The White Brush Ichimonji settled into Rosen's grip, its ink-stained tip glowing with ethereal power. He had already painted Monkey D. Dragon black with the blade's influence—now, using the Revolutionary Army leader as his canvas, Rosen executed two elegant characters with flowing, decisive strokes.
Navy.
The pale kanji branded themselves across Dragon's chest, burning with the weight of absolute authority.
"Consider this my duty fulfilled to Vice Admiral Garp," Rosen stated, sheathing the brush-katana.
Killing Dragon would have been trivial—a single strike from Uranus could erase him entirely. But Rosen chose this path instead. Garp had dedicated his entire life to the Marines, fighting pirates while his own family rebelled against him. The old vice Admiral deserved more than the agony of burying his son.
Even before ascending the Red Line, Garp had braced himself for a final confrontation with Dragon. But Rosen offered him a better ending—one where he wouldn't have to mourn.
"What did you do to him?" Im demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.
Dragon remained motionless, but his aura had shifted. He was still the same man—the same lethal combatant—but his allegiance had been rewritten.
"Return to the Marines," Rosen ordered.
The command rippled through the battlefield. Pirates and Revolutionaries alike stared in shock as Dragon's eyes snapped open, burning with a new, cold resolve.
"Having spent years as an enemy of the Marines," Rosen continued, his voice cutting through the chaos, "you now owe every Marine here an explanation. Former leader of the Revolutionary Army... and now, Monkey D. Dragon of the Marines."
Without hesitation, Dragon vanished.
He reappeared before Emporio Ivankov, who was still locked in combat with Gild Tesoro. Before the pink-haired commander could react, Dragon clamped his iron claw onto Ivankov's shoulder, shattering bone with a sickening crunch. A fist coated in Conqueror's Haki followed, driving into Ivankov's face with enough force to crater the ground.
Boom.
Ivankov collapsed, broken and unconscious.
The Revolutionary Army commanders froze.
"Dragon... is attacking his own?"
"What the hell? Did Rosen's brush actually rewrite his mind?"
"This is madness!"
Chaos erupted. Belo Betty, the Liberation Army commander, shouted orders for immediate retreat. "Everyone! Evacuate! Dragon has been compromised!"
She didn't get far. Dragon appeared before her, unleashing the same brutal Dragon Claw Fist technique he'd perfected over decades—now turned against his own army. The iron fist, wrapped in Conqueror's Haki, struck like a meteor. Belo Betty was sent flying, crashing into the Red Line's surface with bone-breaking force.
"You know what must be done," Rosen said calmly, watching the carnage. "You built the Revolutionary Army. Now, you'll dismantle it. I don't want to hear another word about this organization existing in this world."
"I am Monkey D. Dragon of the Marines," the former revolutionary stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "By order of Fleet Admiral Rosen. Any Revolutionary Army member who resists will be executed without mercy."
With a nod, Dragon became a whirlwind of destruction, hunting down his former comrades with terrifying efficiency. He was already Admiral-level before Rosen's intervention—now, augmented by the Ancient Weapon Uranus, he was unstoppable.
The Revolutionary Army remnants had no chance.
"Monster," Im whispered, watching the leader of the revolution devour his own movement. The sight sent a chill through every survivor present.
"Your turn," Rosen declared, turning his gaze to the shadowy figure.
"You've won," Im admitted, giving Rosen a long, calculating look. "So be it."
Rosen raised an eyebrow. "Surrendering?"
Im laughed—a cold, bitter sound. "You are nothing but a mortal. How long can you live? A century from now, you'll be dust while I remain. If you want the throne so badly, take it. I'll reclaim it in a hundred years."
She descended from the sky, her body shimmering as she transformed back to human form. She looked... resigned.
"A clone?" Rosen's eyes narrowed.
"Do you know why Joy Boy failed despite being stronger than me?" Im asked, black flames beginning to swirl around her form. "Because he aged and died. I don't."
Her body began turning to ash, similar to Saturn's execution—the ultimate self-destruction technique.
"Goodbye, Rosen. I will return."
Each word carried the weight of an 800-year-old will.
Rosen didn't move. He simply watched the ashes scatter, then spoke a single, devastating phrase.
"Shatter."
The word cracked through the air like thunder. Im froze as her vision shattered, the illusion crumbling like glass. She saw herself—not the clone she thought she'd left behind—but her true body, standing exposed in the ruins of Mary Geoise.
"No..."
"Impossible."
She had already left. She had used Observation Killing to mask her presence. She had—
"Your sword," Im whispered, her voice trembling. "When?"
"When I first set foot in Mary Geoise," Rosen answered, his voice calm. "When you watched from the shadows."
He raised the Mirror Flower, Water Moon—the ultimate hypnotic Zanpakutō.
"I offered you a greeting gift. You accepted it."
Im's mind reeled. "That was months ago! How could the hypnosis last that long?"
"Mirror Flower, Water Moon's complete hypnosis is flawless," Rosen explained, his blade gleaming. "Once seen, it controls your five senses permanently. It can induce hallucinations at any time, in any place."
"You thought you escaped the Red Line. But you never left. You've been standing right before me the entire time."
He turned to face her true form, the illusion fully shattered.
"So. Do you understand now? You cannot defeat me. You cannot escape."
Im screamed, turning to flee—but her vision blurred, then cleared. A cold edge pressed against her throat.
The Ichimonji.
"Another illusion?" Im's pupils constricted.
"No," Rosen said. "This is real."
The blade slashed diagonally, leaving a trail of black ink that stained her body. The ink spread like a curse, erasing her power, her Haki, even her immortality.
Im's eyes widened in horror. She could feel it all slipping away—the power of the World King, the legacy of 800 years, the divine protection of her lineage.
"Don't worry," Rosen said, raising the white brush. "I won't make you join the Navy. We only recruit elites."
He pressed the brush to her stained skin, writing a single character:
Ant.
"No—" Im's voice cut off as her ability to speak vanished. The word itself became a curse, reducing the World King to nothing more than a common insect.
All her power, all her authority, all her divinity evaporated. She was no longer Im, the shadow ruler of the world. She was an ant—nothing more, nothing less.
"Then," Rosen said, extending a single finger, "goodbye."
He pressed down with force sufficient to crush an ant.
A black dot remained where Im once stood—no different from any insect smeared beneath a boot.
The World King was dead.
Across the Red Line, the last remnants of resistance fell silent. Rayleigh, Shanks, and the others who had clung to life through the battle finally succumbed, collapsing into pools of their own blood. The Red Earth Peak was now a graveyard of legends.
Only the Marines remained.
Rosen stood atop the ruins of Mary Geoise, his silhouette framed against the setting sun. He stepped over the remains of the World King, over the shattered relics of 800 years of tyranny.
"From this day forward," he declared, his voice carrying across the continent, "I shall stand at the pinnacle."
The dawn of the Naval Age had begun.
---
The scene was broadcast live to every Marine headquarters across the world. In the command center, kings and leaders of nations watched in stunned silence as the World King—no, the former World King—was reduced to nothing.
The screen went dark.
Rosen had spoken his final word. The era of pirates was ending. The age of the Marines had arrived.
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