Saul turned to Olvia, his giant, rugged face softening with an earnest plea. "He's right, Olvia," he said, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "Robin is just a little girl. She needs her mother. Let us be the shield. You must be the one to guide her to safety."
Olvia looked at the giant who had sacrificed his life for her, then at the impossible hero who had just laid waste to two Navy warships. She saw the unwavering resolve in their eyes. This wasn't just a plan; it was a promise. A promise that they would hold the line, no matter the cost.
"Alright," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. With a final, lingering look at the two warriors who were about to face down the wrath of the world for her daughter, she turned and sprinted back toward the burning heart of Ohara.
Saul watched her go, then turned to face the sea, a grim shadow falling over his features. He stood side-by-side with the small, costumed figure of Captain America, two lone sentinels against a fleet of destroyers.
"It's just us now," Saul said, the words heavy with the weight of their decision. "We are Ohara's last wall."
"Then we will not break," Captain America replied, his gaze fixed on the eight remaining warships. His fist tightened, the knuckles of his gloves creaking. "Let's give them a fight they'll never forget."
Aboard the fleet's flagship, the atmosphere was grim. An officer held a chirping Den Den Mushi, his face pale. Purupurupuru… Gacha.
"Yes, Admiral Sengoku," the man on the other end of the line said, his voice a lazy, bored drawl. "I understand. A man in a blue… theatrical costume. Yes, I see him." He sighed, a sound of profound annoyance. "Understood. I'll take care of it." He hung up the Den Den Mushi with a click.
Vice Admiral Kuzan leaned back in his deck chair, the very picture of apathy. He wore a deep blue shirt under a white, unbuttoned suit vest, a sleeping mask pushed up onto his forehead. He stared out at the burning island, a deep frown creasing his features.
"Man, what a drag," he muttered to himself. "First, my long-awaited vacation gets cancelled. Then, I have to fight an old colleague." He sighed again, a plume of cold air misting in front of his face. "And now this. Some lunatic in a costume single-handedly sinks two warships and forces a Vice Admiral like Yamakaji to swim for his life. This guy is making way too much paperwork for me."
He stretched, his joints popping. "And of course, Sakazuki just had to report it directly to Admiral Sengoku. You know how he gets. 'Absolute Justice' this, 'thoroughness' that…" He finally, reluctantly, pushed himself to his feet. "Guess there's no getting out of it. Time to go to work."
The man who would one day be known as Admiral Aokiji, one of the three great powers of the Navy, stood at the railing of his ship. "All ships," he commanded, his lazy voice suddenly carrying the unyielding weight of authority, "cease your bombardment. From now on, you follow my lead."
He placed a hand on the railing. The wood frosted over. He touched the sea.
The ocean froze.
A path of solid, clear ice shot out from the flagship, a shimmering highway stretching all the way to the shores of Ohara. Without another word, Kuzan began to skate along the path he had created, his movements casual, fluid, and impossibly fast.
On the island, Riven and Saul watched in stunned silence as the cannons fell quiet. A moment of hope bloomed, only to be instantly crushed by a new, creeping horror. The sea itself was turning to ice before their eyes.
Then, they saw him. A lone figure, gliding toward them on the frozen water.
Riven's blood ran cold. He knew that lazy posture. He knew that power. "Kuzan?!"
Aokiji. The future Admiral. He's a Logia user. Ice. The tactical part of his brain screamed the truth at him. I can't touch him. I don't have Haki. This is a fight I cannot win.
"Saul, listen to me!" Riven said, his voice urgent. "They know who they're up against now. That's why they sent him. This is my fight. You need to go! Get to Olvia and Robin! Help them escape!" He was desperate to change this one, critical detail of the story. He knew how this encounter was supposed to end for the kind-hearted giant beside him.
But Saul didn't move. He just looked down at Captain America, and for the first time, a look of true, deep understanding crossed his face. "No," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "If you stay here, you'll be the one who dies, Riven."
He knew. Somehow, the giant had seen through the transformation.
"Dereshishishi!" Saul let out a soft, rumbling laugh. "You think I didn't recognize those eyes? You're a terrible liar, my boy. But you are a very, very good friend."
Riven was speechless. The secret was out. All pretense fell away. "Then you know why you have to go!" he pleaded. "I can create an opening! A chance! It's the only way!"
Saul just smiled, a wide, sad, but utterly content grin. "Dereshishishi! All my life, I questioned the Navy's justice. But here, at the end of the world, I've found true friends. Olvia, little Robin… and you, Riven. A boy with the heart of a hero." He placed a hand the size of a boulder on Riven's shoulder. "I could not ask for a better way to die. I am proud to make my final stand with you."
The words struck Riven with the force of a physical blow. He looked from the giant's resolute face to the approaching Admiral, and his own fear was burned away by a surge of shared, defiant courage. "So be it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Then we fight to the end. Even if an Admiral stands in our way, we will hold this line."
As they stood together, two friends ready to face their doom, the Digivice on Riven's wrist blazed to life. A brilliant, blinding white light erupted from it, a silent promise of new power.
It's… it's activating again? Riven thought, a surge of wild, desperate hope flaring in his chest. A new transformation? NOW?!