Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
In the most secret chamber known as the Room of Flowers, within the deepest recesses of a vast and silent palace, stood a lofty dais with an empty throne carved from ivory‑white stone. It was high, cool, serene, and untouched — yet at that moment, nobody occupied it.
On the polished marble floor below, five figures knelt in perfect alignment, their faces solemn and grave.
If this scene were ever exposed to the outside world, it would shake the oceans to their core.
Because these five men kneeling with reverence before nothing were the highest authorities of the World Government, the revered and feared Gorosei, known to the world as the Five Elders — the ultimate power behind global order as far as public knowledge was concerned.
Yet here they knelt in fear.
The hush inside the chamber was so complete that even a single pin drop would have shattered the silence. Moments passed with that oppressive stillness, until finally, loud footsteps echoed across the vast hall.
A figure enshrouded in swirling mist ascended the red‑carpeted steps toward the empty throne. Its form was obscured, indistinguishable as male or female, moving with a cold grace. At the top, it turned and seated itself upon the vacant throne, its presence commanding and dreadful.
"Greetings, Imu‑sama," the five Elders intoned in unified devotion, voices low, reverence shaking in every syllable as they kept their foreheads pressed to the ground.
Imu's voice emerged from the shadows of the throne, calm and chilling, impossible to attribute to any gender, yet radiating supreme authority.
"How much time has passed?"
"Reporting to Imu‑sama, twenty years," the Gorosei with short golden hair replied respectfully, his voice steady but humble.
"What disturbances have arisen in the seas recently?"
The figure rested a mist‑shrouded hand on a chin no one could see clearly, left leg crossed over the right in an expression of lazy authority.
The bald Elder answered with bowed head, "Currently, Marineford is…"
Imu waved a hand, and instantly a live view of Marineford materialized in mid‑air, displaying the relentless, savage war raging with white‑hot ferocity.
"Whitebeard Pirates, Revolutionary Army," Imu observed in a voice that betrayed no emotion.
"The Marines remain useful for now. Clean them up."
"Yes."
The Gorosei did not raise their heads, bowing deeply as they exited the grand hall, each step echoing with obedience and fear.
Rumble.
Whoosh whoosh.
Marineford remained a landscape of tragedy, fragmented and broken.
Blood stained the ground, flowing into rivulets that vanished into newly forming fissures. Corpses lay in tatters, severed limbs and internal organs scattered like grim confetti.
With Ethan's departure from the battlefield, Silver Dragon had freed himself. This turn of events posed a devastating problem for both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Revolutionary Army, tipping the balance of power inexorably toward the Marines.
And indeed, that was the case.
As one of the Marine's strongest Admirals, Silver Dragon had moved with unbelievable force. Even with just a handful of movements, his raw destructive capability branded itself into the very memory of the world.
Crack.
Silver Dragon hovered above the battlefield, his entire body shimmering with crackling energy. Sparkling electrical currents danced around him as wind seemed to crest like waves in the air, tension radiating outward.
He swept his focus across the landscape before raising his right hand high toward the sky.
Powerhouses on the battlefield and observers alike gasped.
The last time Silver Dragon had done this, Marineford had nearly been erased from the map. The entire sky, thick with thunder and lightning, seemed to tilt on an axis, spinning like a black hole. Energy condensed at its center rose with ceaseless fury.
Those who witnessed it felt their scalps prickle, horror filling their expressions.
A nightmare had returned.
Aokiji and Kizaru, who were locked in combat with Whitebeard, felt hair stand on end. Without a word, they abandoned Whitebeard's side and retreated swiftly, fear driving their movements.
Silver Dragon's target was unmistakably Whitebeard.
"Raijin."
Amid a dense downpour of lightning bolts, a massive, sky‑blotting black sphere plummeted like a meteor. The surrounding air shattered with crackling splinters, as though reality itself was fracturing under impossible force.
"Defense, defense!"
"Retreat, retreat!"
"Quickly, fall back!"
Marines, pirates, and Revolutionary Army forces alike pulled back. Memories of Silver Dragon's last devastating move made them instinctively seek safety.
He had started with full force.
No one who had witnessed it before would underestimate him.
Whitebeard's chest was riddled with fresh scars, each telling a story of battles fought. Facing four Marine Admirals in succession and enduring waves of pressure had worn heavily on him. Injuries accumulated, pain etched on his features.
Of the four Admirals, Silver Dragon was the most intimidating. Aokiji and Kizaru were visibly battered, their pale faces streaked with blood. Akainu was the most unfortunate — unable to land a decisive blow on Luffy and struggling to remain upright.
If anyone else had been in Whitebeard's place, they might have fallen long ago. But Whitebeard was something else entirely.
Buzz buzz.
Clenching his fists, Whitebeard unleashed the white pressure shield that vibrated the surrounding atmosphere. Heavy gaze locked upon the falling Raijin, he pulled downward with resolve.
The air seemed to tear like gossamer, then spin and collapse, unleashing a devastating wave of power that radiated in brilliant white across Marineford.
The world seemed to close its eyes.
Every living being in Marineford felt an icy chill snake down their spine. Silence held their breath as unseen people vanished into dust without a sound.
The sea surface, once frozen by Aokiji, fractured again, towering icebergs soaring into the clouds, deep chasms snaking outward, earthquakes and tidal waves erupting like volcanic fury, disasters cascading without end.
Bang.
Brilliant electric light condensed into focus. Enel appeared before Whitebeard, grinning with cruel, bloody teeth, and then delivered a thunderous kick from his right foot.
The air itself exploded.
Whitebeard spat blood repeatedly, his right hand clashing with Enel's thunderous strike. A ring of pressure spread from their contact point as the center of force.
"Ice Age!"
A tsunami of snow and shards surged from every horizon. Marineford had long since ceased to exist as an island — the entire battlefield was now laid low under Aokiji's continuing Ice Ages.
Looking upon this apocalyptic landscape, only Aokiji remained calm. Anyone else without overwhelming power would have perished.
Now, from a high vantage point, the terrain lay frozen solid.
Canyons of ice wound like serpents, grotesque and vast, as though this place was the surface of an alien world.
"Light Speed Kick!"
Seizing a chance, Kizaru appeared behind Whitebeard, his right foot blazing like a golden sun as he delivered a searing kick. Whitebeard tilted his body, causing the attack to miss.
A massive explosion erupted in the distance, raising yet another mushroom cloud.
Whitebeard's evasive move created a perfect opportunity for Silver Dragon.
The lightning in Silver Dragon's hand formed a spiraling trident that he drove into Whitebeard's chest.
Yet there was no joy in his eyes — only shock and disbelief.
"Damn it."
Whitebeard's voice was a roar of pain and defiance. His right arm bulged, veins throbbing, and he slammed it into Silver Dragon's head from close range. It was intentional — a complete exchange of damage, an old warrior's resolve burned into every strike.
There was no hesitation.
Elemental defenses were too late, Shinra Tensei too late.
Crack.
Silver Dragon felt his head crush under the blow, blood spraying from all seven orifices as his eyes rolled back. His body transformed into an azure electric light that shot across a field of icebergs before collapsing motionless, soaked in blood.
At the same moment, a sharp sting filled the air — a golden glowing blade protruded from Whitebeard's chest. Kizaru, blood staining his form, held the Ama no Murakumo, plunging it deep into Whitebeard's back.
Whitebeard swayed under the blow, but his momentum did not stop. In that instant his elbow — unstoppable as a raging river — slammed outward.
Even though Kizaru had begun elementalizing, he was forced out of his body before completion. Spitting blood, his form dissolved into golden light, triggering a series of explosions that followed Silver Dragon's grim trajectory.
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Patreon = _Zeph