Marine Headquarters, Marineford
The Navy Headquarters had never been so alive.
In the corridors, soldiers ran with urgent news, officers wore expressions of exhilaration, and even several vice admirals couldn't help but pound their desks with laughter.
"Have you heard?! Vice Admiral Gern really captured Roger!""Not just vice admiral anymore! With a feat like this, he's bound to be promoted to admiral!""Admiral?! That means he might surpass Admiral Zephyr and become the youngest, fastest-rising admiral in history!""Impossible to argue with that. The Pirate King's bounty alone was 5.5 billion!"
"Don't forget—Vice Admiral Gern is escorting the Pirate King personally back to headquarters!"
Cheers, exclamations, and incredulous murmurs merged together, rattling the glass of the HQ building itself.
The Marshal's Office
Steelbone Kong slammed his fist onto his massive oak desk. The surface cracked in a spiderweb pattern.
"Seal off every last one of these rumor channels immediately!" he bellowed, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed barely contained joy.
Think about it—here he was, about to retire as Fleet Admiral, and suddenly someone captures the Pirate King. Steelbone Kong could now be certain of his next step: World Military Commander of All Forces.
"War—Warship Sengoku, speak honestly. Forget the admiral promotion… since when did I say I'm retiring for Gern?"
"Fleet Admiral Kong, it's natural that everyone's excited," Sengoku said, standing by the window, his eyes behind the lenses fixed on the harbor.
The ship escorting Roger slowly sailed into the inner port. And on its deck, the figure in the coat of justice was unmistakable.
"But… Fleet Admiral Kong," Sengoku's voice was rough, "we may have… underestimated him."
"Underestimated?" Steelbone Kong chuckled, taking a sip from his cup."The destruction of the South Blue's Shinning Death Ruins is so extreme that no one dares approach it even now. You call that 'underestimating'?"
At that moment, the harbor erupted once more with a tsunami of cheers.
"Heavenquake!!!""The Navy Legend!!!"
The soundwave shook the chandeliers in the office.
At the docks, rookie soldiers pressed against railings, craning their necks to get a glimpse.
"That's… the Heavenquake who captured the Pirate King?"
In the front, young Smoker clenched his cigar between his teeth, unbothered as ash fell. His eyes reflected the scene before him:
Gern Reginald Sigmar walking steadily across the central plaza, the black blade Eight Desolations slung at his waist. The wrappings on the sheath were shredded, revealing the dark edge beneath. His uniform jacket hung casually on his shoulders, the black shirt underneath clinging to his lithe, hardened body.
Most oppressive of all was the aura of authority surrounding him.
He hadn't activated Haki, yet Marine officers instinctively parted to give him space.
"Hey…" someone swallowed hard. "His eyes…"
Under the sunlight, Gern's pupils glimmered a strange pale hue, like residual aftershocks of his power.
"Gern… why insist on this walk?" Lipo murmured, watching him push through the pain.
"Your wounds are severe. My Devil Fruit can only keep you conscious…"
"You don't understand, Lipo," Gern said quietly. "Everything I've done… is for this moment."
With that, he clenched his left arm through the agony coursing through his body and shouted, "Justice!"
Instantly, waves of cheering erupted from the crowd.
Inside the office, Steelbone Kong watched as Gern was surrounded by fervent Marines, sunlight forming a dazzling halo around him.
"That reputation… he's literally the embodiment of 'Navy Spirit!' No one—not even the World Government—can touch him now."
Three Days Later – Impel Down, Level 6: Infinite Hell
The cell was dim, torchlight flickering across damp stone walls. Heavy chains clanked in the deathly silence.
Roger leaned against the cold wall, hands and feet bound in custom Seastone shackles. Once the spirited Pirate King, he now resembled a lion stripped of its fangs, only exhausted breaths remaining.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor.
"Vi… Vice Admiral Garp! What are you doing here?" a guard called, voice tinged with awe. "Wait, the Fleet Admiral… you can't—"
"Enough!" Garp's deep voice rolled through the cell. "I'm just outside. I need to say a few words."
The guards exchanged wary looks, then reluctantly opened the heavy gate leading to the innermost chamber.
Garp strode in, his steps echoing across the empty hall. He stopped in front of Roger's cell—not unlocking it, but sitting cross-legged on the floor. From his pocket, he pulled out a small bag of senbei.
"Want some?" Garp offered with a grin. "Might be your last meal."
Roger slowly lifted his head. Beneath messy hair, his eyes remained clear.
"Heh…" he rasped, a hoarse smile forming. "Still the same, Garp."
On opposite sides of the Seastone bars, one sitting, one leaning, it felt like old times chasing each other across the seas.
Garp bit into a senbei; the crunch was unusually loud in the silence.
"Why?" he suddenly asked, voice low. "Why let that brat Gern capture you?"
Roger paused, then chuckled softly.
"You saw it coming…"
"Of course I did! We've been clashing for nearly a lifetime!" Garp crushed the senbei in his hand. "Even dying, you wouldn't lose to some kid not yet fully grown!"
Roger didn't answer immediately. He lowered his gaze to the shackles, the Seastone gleaming coldly against his haggard face.
"Garp…" he whispered. "What do you think the ending of a 'King' should look like?"
Garp's fists clenched, knuckles cracking.
"At the very least… not like this!" he roared. "You're still…"
"The Pirate King?" Roger suddenly laughed. But in his laughter was a certain serenity.
"I didn't want this either. My plan from the start was to surrender… haha."
He lifted his head, eyes shining with a light Garp had never seen before.
"But… whatever the case, I lost now." Roger smiled faintly.
"You lost…" Garp's pupils constricted.
He realized Roger's words weren't just about the fight with Gern.
In an instant, Garp leapt up, smashing his fist against the bars.
"Roger! What are you trying to do?! You're not just trying to make that brat's legend with your death, are you?! What did you see on that island?!"
Roger didn't answer, only calmly watching his old friend's fury.
"If you get the chance, see it for yourself…" he said lightly, shaking his head. "But you're wrong about one thing."
The shackles rattled with his movement.
"Gern didn't rise because of me… I gave my all in that fight. At that moment, he—" Roger's gaze seemed to pierce the walls, reliving the cataclysmic scene, the awakened Devil Fruit tearing the skies, a young man suspended midair, godlike.
"Any other person would have fallen… or died. Simply put, someone with that kind of power was destined to end—and mark—the era I ruled."
"What are you trying to say?" Garp's breath caught.
"Garp… whether Rocks or Gern," Roger returned his gaze to Garp's, heavy and solemn, "that blade… will never choose the wrong master."
Silence returned. Only the crackling of torches echoed in the dark.
After a long pause, Garp grabbed the remaining senbei, shoving them into his mouth with a crunch.
"Madmen," he muttered, muffled. "You're both insane."
Roger laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of Impel Down, waking countless sleeping criminals.
"Yes!" he laughed, coughing as a trace of blood slipped from his lips. "But this… is the kind of era that's worth living in!"
Garp stared long and hard, then sighed and turned for the exit.
"Hey, Garp," Roger suddenly called.
The Navy hero stopped but didn't look back.
"I'm going to be a father…" Roger's voice was uncharacteristically gentle.
"And why tell me this? I'm the Navy, Roger! That child… with you as blood, and the woman… the World Government wouldn't let her—"
"That's why I trust him. I trust you. After all… we've fought together for years. Protect him!"
Garp's shoulders stiffened, then he waved it off.
"Nagging."
The heavy gate slowly closed, sealing two legends apart—one in light, one in shadow.
..
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