[Angel Island – Outer Ring Airspace]
Rumble—
The white sea and its endless clouds trembled as a colossal golden Flying Conch Bird descended, its wings carving white wakes through the mist.
Perched upon its back sat an elderly man clad in silver armor, a long spear resting across his knees. His white hair streamed in the wind, his face weathered yet resolute—a visage of calm dignity carved by time and duty.
This was none other than the current "God" of Sky Island: Gan Fall.
With a final beat of its wings, the Conch Bird alighted upon the warship's deck. Gan Fall dismounted in one fluid motion, spear striking the wood with a crisp thud. He dropped to one knee, right fist thudding against his chest in a gesture reminiscent of a knight's oath, and offered a solemn salute to Ronan and his crew.
A voice, deep and resonant, cut through the drifting clouds:
"Warriors of the Sea—
I am Gan Fall, guardian of Angel Island and current God of the Sky Island.
Your arrival has shaken the very foundations of the White Sea.
On behalf of Angel Island, I humbly invite you to the Island of God to discuss matters of grave importance!"
Instantly, every veteran on deck snapped to solemn attention. Even Rett raised an eyebrow—impressed, despite himself, by the old man's unwavering spirit.
Ronan stood with hands clasped behind his back, expression cold and unreadable. After a moment, his gaze shifted. He gave a single, faint nod.
"Lead the way."
[Angel Island – Temple Hall]
Golden light poured through the high-arched dome, bathing the chamber in a sacred glow. Floating Wind Shells exhaled soft mists that shimmered like liquid starlight, turning the temple into a realm apart from the world below.
Seated along one side of the main hall were Ronan, Rett, and a handful of elite soldiers. Gan Fall stood nearby, personally overseeing their reception.
A white-robed attendant approached, serving tea brewed with Shell Energy. She bowed silently and retreated.
Gan Fall exhaled heavily before speaking, his voice weighted with sorrow:
"The White Sea depends on Beel Energy—it sustains our crops, our homes, our very lives.
Yet every year, we are forced to pay an exorbitant Bass Tax—a so-called 'survival tithe'—to the so-called Divine Kingdom.
Those who cannot pay are stripped of land, property, and the right to remain. They become outcasts, drifting aimlessly through the clouds.
And when Jaya Island ascended… it brought the Shandians—the last of Shandora—with it. Their arrival ignited a war that still burns today."
He paused, eyes shadowed with exhaustion.
"This Sky Island… is no longer the celestial paradise it once was.
Exploitation. Corruption. Civil war.
The White Sea… is a river of blood."
Rett slammed a fist onto the stone table. Tea splashed across the surface.
"Tch. So it's rotten up here too?" he growled.
"I thought climbing into the sky would show me a real holy kingdom—but this place is worse than the filth we left on the ground!
These 'gods'? They're filthier than the worst princes and nobles on the Blue Sea!"
Ronan said nothing. His eyes remained lowered, fingertips drumming a slow, steady rhythm against the armrest—tap… tap… tap…
Then, after a long silence, he spoke.
His voice was quiet. But it cut through the temple's golden hush like a blade through silk.
"Rotten…"
"Altitude doesn't change its nature."
The words fell like ice water on every soul present.
Gan Fall's expression tightened. He bowed his head, fists clenching—then slowly unclenching, as if releasing a truth too heavy to fight.
Because Ronan wasn't speaking in metaphor.
He was naming the wound.
And in that moment, standing beneath the fractured sanctity of the temple dome, Ronan made his choice.
This sky—corrupted by hypocrisy, greed, and divine pretense—
would be cleansed.
Not with mercy.
But with absolute justice.
[Apayado Ruins – Outer Ring]
Two days later.
Mist coiled around the skeletal remains of an ancient bell tower, its golden spire cracked but still gleaming—silent witness to glory lost and blood spilled.
Ronan and Rett moved soundlessly through the ruins.
The air grew taut. A whisper of killing intent prickled the pale sea of clouds.
The moment they crossed the outer threshold of the tower—
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Arrows—and more—screamed from the fog!
"Ambush!!" Rett roared, muscles coiling like steel springs.
BOOM!
From every direction, over a dozen Shandian warriors erupted from the mist—crude armor clattering, feathers fluttering, spears and axes gleaming with ancestral fury.
Their war cry shook the ruins:
"Strangers! Leave Shandora!"
"We will die before we let you defile our home!"
Rett grinned—a predator's smile—body bent low like a drawn bow.
[Armament Haki: Hardening – Heavy Punch]!
BANG!!!
His fist met two charging warriors like a cannonball. Bones cracked. Blood misted the air.
The pair flew backward, limp as rags, crashing into distant rubble—motionless before they hit the ground.
But more Shandian warriors surged forward like a tide, their killing intent thick enough to choke on.
Ronan merely lifted his gaze—just slightly.
Then he stomped his foot.
[Air Manipulation: Capture!]
Buzzzz—!
The air around them convulsed violently, compressing into a visible, transparent ripple that warped the light.
The Shandian warriors who had just leapt into the air to strike froze mid-motion. Their faces drained of color.
Their limbs turned leaden, as if drowning in molasses. Every muscle screamed against the weight of unseen chains—immobilized, helpless.
"Wha—what's happening?!"
They thrashed, desperate, but their bodies refused to obey.
Ronan raised his right hand, fingers pressed together, palm taut.
[Air Collapse.]
BOOM!!!
The compressed air imploded with devastating force.
The bound warriors plummeted like kites with severed strings—crashing into the earth with bone-jarring impact.
The ground shuddered. Dust erupted in billowing clouds. Ancient stone pillars, weathered by centuries, shattered into dust and rubble.
In less than ten seconds, the battlefield lay in ruins—crushed under the combined might of Ronan and Rhett.
Rett flicked his wrist with a soft tsk, his expression half-amused, half-disdainful.
"These Shandians… they've got spirit," he mused, "but their strength? Woefully inadequate."
He turned to Ronan with a playful glint in his eye and muttered under his breath, "Boss… your Devil Fruit ability isn't just overpowered—it's borderline cheating."
Ronan said nothing. He simply retracted his hand, his black hair rippling in the wind, eyes sharp as a blade cleaving through storm clouds.
His gaze swept over the groaning remnants of the Shandian force—cold, calculating, utterly unmoved.
And at that moment…
[Beyond the Ruins – Beneath the Shadow of the Fallen Temple]
A tall, blond figure stood concealed within the crumbling temple's shade.
His blue eyes—icy, piercing—narrowed.
A faint, chilling smile curled at the corners of his lips.
It was Enel.
An ambitious outcast of Skypiea, already in possession of the Goro Goro no Mi—though the electrical storm within him remained raw, untamed, far from its true potential.
He'd planned to exploit the war between Angel Island and the Shandia, quietly gathering strength until he could seize dominion over the sky.
But now…
Watching that black-haired man wield absolute control over air itself—with such precision, such crushing suppression—
A cold dread coiled in Enel's gut.
"No… something's wrong."
"This man… his power is terrifying."
Even with the Rumble-Rumble Fruit coursing through his veins, Enel felt an oppressive weight pressing down on his very soul.
Shock. Fear.
And beneath it all—hunger.
A searing, fanatical desire ignited in his chest:
"I must become stronger."
"I will surpass him."
"And I… will rule this sky!!"
Teeth clenched, eyes blazing with lightning-bright ambition, Enel melted into the wind—vanishing without a trace.
Meanwhile, atop the ruins of Shandora,
white clouds churned like a restless sea.
Ronan stood atop the broken rampart of the ancient high platform, his Marine coat fluttering in the breeze.
Hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the distant white expanse of the sky sea.
He had already sensed it—the faint, crackling aura of lightning lurking in the shadows.
But he made no move.
Because he knew…
The prey always comes to the hunter.