Seven days later—
A headline that could shake the heavens spread across every corner of the sea, carried by flocks of News-Coos gliding through the dawn.
Impel Down—breached.
The fortress once hailed as the iron wall of the world had fallen to chaos.
Though Admiral Kizaru and the Hero of the Marines, Garp, managed to recapture many fugitives in pursuit, several monstrous pirates had vanished into the waves—free once more.
Among the names shaking the world were:
"Red Count" Baroric Ledfield — the vampire of legend.
"World Destroyer" Bundy Waldo — the man whose name once rivaled nations.
But none of these were the world's true focus.
Because that day, a new bounty poster appeared.
The man responsible for the Impel Down Mass Breakout.
A relic of the old age.
The "Illusionary Blade" — Lucian Vale.
Bounty: 850,000,000 Beli.
The World Government buried the truth of Kizaru's defeat.
But the rest—the prison destroyed, the bodies missing, the sea boiling—was more than enough to send shockwaves through the Grand Line.
All over the world, every great power began digging into his name.
Pirates wanted to recruit him.
Revolutionaries wanted to find him.
The Government wanted him erased.
Yet amidst the uproar, everyone missed one peculiar thing:
The territories of the Four Emperors were silent.
Not a whisper.
Not a word.
As if the entire New World was holding its breath.
…
New World — Moby Dick
On the deck of the great white ship, the sea breeze carried the scent of salt and sake.
Whitebeard sat upon his throne, massive jug in hand, staring at the bounty poster. Every so often, he let out a booming laugh that rumbled like distant thunder.
"Gurararara! So it's that brat again!"
Marco, puzzled, tilted his head.
"Pops… you know this guy? Lucian Vale?"
"Gurararara— of course I do!" Whitebeard laughed, slapping his knee. "That brat and I crossed paths plenty of times when the seas still burned with youth!"
His old eyes softened, memories flickering like candlelight.
"So… he's from your era?" Marco asked in disbelief.
The face on the bounty poster was that of a man no older than thirty. How could someone who looked so young have shared an age with legends like Roger and Whitebeard?
"Gurarara! Idiot son," Whitebeard grinned. "Never judge a monster of the old world by his looks."
"That brat was already a top fighter back then—one of Rocks' fiercest swords."
Marco's jaw nearly hit the deck.
"So he really is that strong?"
Whitebeard took a deep swig, letting the sake burn down his throat.
"Marco," he said quietly, "tell all our sons—none of them are to fight Lucian Vale."
"He's an old friend… and I don't intend to make him an enemy again."
Marco straightened immediately. "Understood, Pops. If he's your friend, he's family to us. I'll make sure everyone knows."
As Marco walked off, Whitebeard looked once more at the bounty poster in his hand.
A rare, fond smile curved his lips.
"Lucian Vale… you never were one for peace."
He lifted his jug high, letting the sun glint off the golden liquid.
"Sengoku, Garp… let's see what you do now."
"Gurararara!"
…
New World — Totto Land, Whole Cake Island
Inside the Candy Palace, Big Mom lounged on her sugar throne, devouring a mountain of cake.
Her wild laughter filled the room.
"Ma~ma~ma~ma~! So that little brat finally escaped!"
Her eldest son, Perospero, leaned closer, licking his candy staff. "Mother, is he really someone from your time?"
"Ma~ma~ma~!" Big Mom's grin was wide, crumbs spilling from her lips. "That brat was one of Rocks' favorites. The captain valued him more than most of us."
She tore into another cake, chewing thoughtfully.
"But that was the past. Now I rule the seas. I am Big Mom—the Emperor!"
Perospero chuckled darkly. "Still, Mama, this is quite the spicy headline. The sea just calmed down—and now an old monster returns."
"Chaos is coming again."
Big Mom's eyes gleamed like jewels. She licked the frosting from her fingers.
"Ma~ma~ma~! Perospero, get everything ready. The calm is over. Sengoku and Garp won't sit still for long."
"Yes, Mama!"
The laughter echoed through Totto Land—sickly sweet and thunderous.
…
New World — Wano Country, Onigashima
In the Skull Dome, Kaido sat on his throne, sake flowing from his lips. King and Queen stood before him—Jack, as usual, was missing.
"Kaido-sama," King said coolly, "the World Government must be hiding something."
Kaido didn't answer at first.
He simply stared at the bounty poster, then drained his sake barrel and crushed it in one hand.
"I know this man."
"When I was just a cabin boy, he was already a legend. That bastard doesn't kneel to anyone."
"This sea's about to shake apart."
King's wings rustled faintly. Quinn scratched his head.
"Boss, after all these years, could he still be that strong?"
Kaido's lips curled into a sneer.
"Don't use your weak eyes to measure monsters from the old era."
"He hasn't aged a day—and that alone tells me he's stronger than ever."
King nodded once. "Then what are our orders?"
Kaido leaned back and laughed quietly.
"Do nothing."
"Tell Jack not to provoke him. If that idiot dies, I'll be annoyed."
King and Quinn exchanged a look and left without a word.
The thunder of Kaido's laughter echoed through the mountains.
…
New World — Larvis Island
A winter island blanketed in snow.
At its center, beneath warm light and roaring fires, the Red-Haired Pirates held a feast.
Ben Beckman sat beside Shanks, the bounty poster between them.
"Captain," Beckman said quietly, tapping the parchment, "with this man resurfacing, the balance of the sea will shatter. The world's not ready for another storm."
Shanks' eyes lingered on the poster.
The young face staring back was frozen in time—untouched by age or decay.
"…I'll go meet him."
Beckman's cigarette almost fell from his mouth.
"Captain, are you serious? The World Government's in a panic. Meeting him now could be suicide."
Shanks smiled faintly.
"For me, the risk is worth it."
"No matter what… I need to see him."
Beckman sighed deeply, resignation in his voice. "…Fine. I'll arrange it."
Shanks grinned, slapping Beckman on the back.
"Come on, Beckman! Enough doom talk—drink with me! Tonight I'm drinking you under the table!"
The crew roared in laughter as mugs clashed and music rose to the stars.
The bounty poster fluttered from Shanks' hand, drifting through the firelight.
The man on the paper—unchanged for decades—smiled faintly from the printed ink.
A man who once carried a red-haired boy on his shoulders.
A man that boy once called "Uncle."
The old era had returned.
And soon, the world—would burn.
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