Naval Headquarters — atop the war-torn battlefield.
"Roger, you bastard! The dead should stay in their graves!"
Fleet Admiral Sengoku roared, his voice trembling with rage and disbelief.
"Hahaha! Don't be so harsh, Sengoku!" came the hearty reply. "Even the dead deserve to come out and stretch their legs once in a while!"
For the first time since his resurrection, Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King, finally spoke.
Moments ago, he had absorbed the information passed to him by Sugisawa Yuuto, the mysterious mage who had brought him back. Now he understood everything—why he had returned, what this war was about, and the chaos that had engulfed the seas.
And yet, rather than fear or confusion, his response was laughter—pure, unrestrained, joyous laughter that echoed like thunder across Marineford.
"Hahahahahahaha!!!"
The sound was infectious, bursting through the heavy tension that blanketed the sky.
Standing at the edge of the battlefield, the man known as the Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh, felt tears blur his vision.
Rayleigh had cried only a few times in his life—so rarely that he could count them on one hand.
The first was over twenty years ago, the night the Roger Pirates disbanded, when he and his crewmates drowned their parting sorrows in drink.
The second was the day Roger was executed at Loguetown, when the greatest man he'd ever sailed with met his end smiling.
And now—this was the third time.
Because before him stood Roger, alive again. His brother. His captain. His dearest friend.
"Roger… my brother… it's been far too long!!!"
With a choked cry, Rayleigh charged forward and wrapped his old friend in a fierce embrace.
"Oi, oi, Rayleigh! Don't start crying on me now—you were never the crybaby type!" Roger teased, grinning wide.
"Shut up! I'm not crying, I just… got some sand in my eyes!" Rayleigh snapped back, his voice trembling.
"Jee ha ha ha ha ha!"
Their laughter—wild, unrestrained—rang out above the chaos of war.
"Roger! You old fool! Of all the surprises, this one takes the cake!"
The voice came from above—a booming, familiar tone laced with arrogance and fury.
Golden Lion Shiki, the airborne pirate, grinned down at him, eyes blazing with emotion he refused to show.
"Ahahaha! Shiki, I heard about what you did back then—storming Marine Headquarters for me, eh? That was really touching!" Roger laughed heartily.
"Don't flatter yourself, idiot! I didn't do it for you—I wanted to kill you with my own hands!" Shiki barked back, though his voice wavered ever so slightly.
"Ku la la la la! Shiki, you sound embarrassed, old friend!"
The deep, booming laugh of Whitebeard, one of the Four Emperors, rolled through the air.
"Huh!? What nonsense are you spouting, Newgate!?" Shiki snarled, his face red with frustration.
Whitebeard ignored him completely. His eyes—old, sharp, and heavy with memory—locked onto Roger.
And Roger, smiling softly, met his gaze.
No words were needed.
Two titans of an age long gone stood across from each other once more.
The seas of the old era—ruled by the Roger Pirates, the Flying Pirates, and the Whitebeard Pirates—had been defined by these men. Rivals, equals, and, in the end, friends.
Every clash between Roger and Whitebeard had ended not in bitterness, but in laughter—feasts under the stars, cups of sake exchanged between warriors who respected one another more than anyone else.
For Whitebeard, Roger was not merely a rival. He was a man worthy of admiration—a friend he would never forget.
When Roger was executed twenty-two years ago, Whitebeard sat alone upon the cliffs of his homeland, staring out over the sea. For the first time in decades, he had felt the ache of loneliness.
Men like Roger, he thought, were not meant to die so soon.
He had believed that they would only meet again in the depths of the afterlife—over drinks in hell itself.
And yet here he was.
The impossible had become reality.
Because on this sea—anything was possible.
"It's really him… the Pirate King!!!"
"Gol D. Roger!!!"
"That's the man who started it all!"
Across the battlefield and the live broadcast screens of the world, shockwaves rippled through the hearts of all who watched.
Robin, Nami, and Vivi stared up in awe, their voices trembling.
"The Pirate King… the man from Oden's logbook… Ace's real father…" Nami murmured. "I can't believe I'm actually seeing him with my own eyes."
Tears welled in Yamato's eyes as she clasped her hands together. "To think I'd ever see Roger in person… the man who changed everything. It's… it's incredible!"
Meanwhile, Wendy, who had come from the world of Fairy Tail, tilted her head in confusion.
"Pirate King Roger? Is he… stronger than our Guild Master?" she asked innocently.
"How could anyone be stronger than the Guild Master!" Lucy snapped, puffing her cheeks.
"Exactly! No one could ever surpass the Guild Leader!" Levy, Perona, and Cana chimed in, their loyalty unshaken.
"Even if he's the Pirate King, the President is still the strongest!" declared Runti, crossing her arms with conviction.
Their voices rose together, defiant and proud, even amid the spectacle of legends reborn.
But the shock spreading through Marineford was far from over.
Because among all those watching in disbelief, none were more shaken than the man who bore Roger's blood—
Portgas D. Ace.