"Neptune...!!"

Otohime’s scream tore through the husks of the burning and devastated Fishman Island, echoing like the cry of a dying soul. Her slender arms clawed toward the direction of the explosion as the ministers dragged her—forced her—down the passage toward the port.

"Your Majesty, please—!!"

"Queen Otohime, the king’s orders were clear!"

But she thrashed like a woman possessed, eyes wild, hair matted with tears. Her observation Haki, sharp as a blade honed by motherhood and fear, felt Neptune’s life slipping away—like a candle guttering in a storm.

She didn’t know what scared her more—his fading presence... Or the madness she had felt in him moments before the light swallowed the island. She had never sensed Neptune so lost to rage. Never sensed him so willing to die.

"Let me go!!" she sobbed, voice breaking. "LET ME GO TO HIM!!"

But the ministers held her tighter, dragging her backward in desperation as tears streamed down their own faces.

"We understand, Your Majesty..."

"But if you go back—everything he bought for us—everything he sacrificed—will be for nothing!"

Her heart shattered, but she could not break free. Above ground, the world had been rewritten. The battlefield where Neptune had clashed with the Elder was no longer recognizable. The entire section of Fishman Island had been obliterated into a miles-wide crater, its edges jagged like the maw of some titanic beast.

At its center, buried under tons of rubble, lay the corpse that refused to die. Marco descended into the crater, phoenix flames flickering weakly around him. Every wingbeat sent spikes of agony through his battered body. He landed with a stumble beside the half-buried Neptune.

The king no longer looked like a titan. The stimulants had stripped him down to raw meat and cracked bone. Blood pooled under him. His breath came in shallow, broken rasps. Marco tried to speak, but his throat tightened instead.

He spread his phoenix wings—what was left of them—and let the healing flames pour over Neptune’s ravaged body. The flames hissed as they touched him. His wounds were too deep.

His life force was bleeding out. But Marco kept pouring more and more flame into him, even as tears mixed with the ash on his face.

"Come on, King Neptune... please..."

And then—a voice slithered through the dust. "Tsk. How troublesome." The air rippled— And the rubble across the crater exploded outward.

Marco’s eyes widened. Emerging from the dust stood Elder Mars. But not in his monstrous Itsumade form. This was his human shape—or what remained of it. His pristine black suit was shredded, hanging in tatters off his body. His right shoulder and a massive portion of his chest were simply gone, exposing ribs and muscle scorched to charcoal. Half his face had been burned away, leaving a grotesque skull-like hollow on the right side.

Yet—the wounds were healing. Black mist clung to the flesh like hungry tendrils, weaving in and out of shattered bone, stitching sinew, and knitting organs. Pieces of his skull cracked and reformed with the sound of grinding stone. In seconds, the empty cavity on his face filled with fresh flesh. Elder Mars rolled his shoulder, expression flat and bored.

"Well," he mused, "that certainly stung." A cruel smile curled at the corner of his lip. "I truly didn’t expect that overgrown fish to possess such a... delightful stimulant." His eyes flicked toward Neptune’s shattered body.

"What was it called...? A national treasure? A forbidden relic?" He chuckled. "I must take samples. The genius of our scientists could produce wonders—without those pesky side effects."

Marco’s wings flared protectively over Neptune, flames billowing. "You’re not touching him."

Mars tilted his head, amused.

"Hm. Well, I had considered letting you live to spread word of our new laws. But after such insolence..." His eyes narrowed. "...you filthy creatures should be killed; you are far too eager to die."

He began walking toward them—not rushing, not running—just calmly, as if the crater were a ballroom floor. He didn’t need to hurry. His immortality guaranteed the outcome.

Behind Marco, he heard Neptune’s breath faltering—heard the king’s heart struggling—

heard death whispering. Marco braced himself.

But before Mars reached them—the island shook. Not from Mars. Not from the crater. From something else.

Far from the crater, Jozu had his hands full in a different nightmare. Otohime was still fighting—

Clawing at the soldiers, sobbing, trying to turn back.

"Otohime-sama—please!! He bought us time—DON’T THROW IT AWAY!" The right minister screamed while trying to pull at the queen, who was showing surprising strength despite holding the newborn in her arms.

Jozu turned sharply, frustration and grief mingling in his diamond-hard face. "We cannot linger here; we need to get to the ships—carry her if you must! We can’t—"

The ground rumbled violently. Not like an explosion. No—like a mountain was running. Jozu stopped mid-sentence. All color drained from his face. His body reflexively coated in glittering diamond as his combat instincts screamed.

He slowly turned—and froze. A four-tusked boar, towering hundreds of meters high, erupted through the remains of the royal district. The Fengxi. A primal beast of chaos. A living catastrophe. A creature that even ancient giants avoided, if tales were to be believed.

It tore through buildings as if they were dust motes. Coral towers snapped under its weight. Every step cracked the seabed. Rubble was thrown aside like pebbles. It was charging directly at them.

Jozu didn’t hesitate. His entire diamond-coated body turned obsidian-black as layers of Armament Haki wrapped around him. He planted both hands into the coral floor.

RRRRRRRIIIIIPPPPPP—!! —and tore the earth upward, shifting an entire landmass into a towering wall of coral and stone hundreds of meters high. The escaping group gasped in shock.

The wall crashed into place, a man-made continent blocking the Fengxi’s path.

For a moment—silence.

Then—CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASH!!!!!!

The Fengxi obliterated the wall. Stone, coral, debris—all of it exploded outward as the monster rammed through it like it was paper. The shockwave sent soldiers and civilians flying. The titanic boar didn’t slow. If anything, it charged harder. Straight at the queen. Straight at the princess. Straight at the future of Fishman Island.

Jozu didn’t have to think twice as his body moved instinctively. He rushed forward in a blur of diamond and Haki, throwing himself into Fengxi’s path. His roar shook the battlefield.

"OHHHHHRAAAAA!!!"

He slammed shoulder-first into the creature’s tusk—a mountain against a mountain—a titan stopping an earthquake.

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

The impact exploded outward in a dome of force, shattering coral streets, collapsing what buildings still stood, and sending shockwaves rippling across the ruined land. Jozu’s feet dug trenches behind him as he was pushed back—but he held.

For a moment—just a moment—he stopped the monster’s charge. Behind him, the queen gasped. The soldiers scrambled to steady her. Jozu’s diamond face cracked with strain, but his voice thundered.

"RUN, YOU FOOLS!!!"

The Fengxi didn’t slow as it charged again, disregarding the third division commander of the Whitebeard pirates. It towered over Jozu like a living mountain, with four curved tusks the size of warships and eyes burning with a feral, ancient malice. Every exhale was a hurricane of hot, iron-scented breath that scattered rubble and bodies across the ruined plaza.

But Jozu didn’t move. He planted his diamond feet into the shattered coral ground, muscles bulging—then hardened—then blackened with Armament Haki until he was a glimmering obsidian fortress. The beast’s shadow fell over him. And Jozu roared—

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS...!!" The Fengxi came down like a natural disaster. A tusk as thick as a tower came down from the heavens. It slammed against Jozu’s crossed forearms—

BOOOOOM!!

A sound not meant for mortal ears tore through Fishman Island. Metal screamed. Stone cracked. The ocean itself seemed to groan in pain. Jozu was blasted backward like a fired cannonball, carving through collapsing buildings and uprooting coral spires. Diamond fragments shattered off his arms like glittering blood.

But before he could be launched into the far wall of the district— He dug his heels in. The ground split beneath him, trenches gouged deep, sparks bursting under his feet.

And— He stopped.

Jozu stood there, panting, his diamond-coated arms fractured with spiderweb cracks. Blood seeped through the broken lines, flowing like molten ruby. His breath came out ragged. His eyes burned. He roared and charged. Shoulder-first, he slammed into the Fengxi’s colossal leg—

CLAAANG!!

It felt like ramming a mountain made of black iron and divine rage. The Fengxi didn’t even grunt.

Its massive hoof lifted again.

STOMP.

Jozu barely had time to cross his arms—

CRUUUUNCH!!!

The seabed shattered. The entire block collapsed. Jozu was driven waist-deep into the ground, diamond flesh cracking apart, each fracture glowing with pulsing pain. His ribs vibrated as if trying to escape his body. Behind him, the fleeing soldiers and the queen were still running, guarded by the Whitebeard pirates, who were cutting down any world government soldiers who were trying to get to the royal family.

Jozu gritted his teeth until blood poured from his gums. "Come on... COME ON THEN!!"

The Fengxi’s response was an ancient, primal bellow that shook the very dome of the island. The air rippled, glass shattered, and ears bled. The hoof rose again and descended with divine malice.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The ground cratered even deeper, swallowing more of the district. Jozu coughed a fountain of blood. His diamond body, legendary for its hardness, was splitting apart like porcelain under a giant’s hammer. His haki flickered chaotically, sparks dancing across the diamond surface.

But still—he held. Still—he did not move. Still—he stood between the monster and the innocents behind him. Another stomp. Another crater. And Jozu’s left arm shattered completely— A burst of diamond shards spraying like glass grenades.

He screamed, raw and feral, but his legs refused to buckle. The Fengxi snorted disdainfully, bored by the resistance. Its four massive tusks lowered, ready to skewer him like an insect. Jozu saw his reflection in the curved ivory.

I can’t dodge. I can’t block. Then I only have one choice.

He pushed off with his remaining functioning arm, launching himself upward, body twisting violently—

"DIAMOND... AVALANCHE!!"

He became a spinning mass of diamond razors and crackling haki, tearing the air apart—he slammed into the Fengxi’s snout— KRAAAAAA-THOOOOOOM!!

A shockwave erupted outward, splitting the seabed and blowing entire coral towers away. The Fengxi’s head jerked back—an inch. Only an inch. But for a creature that size, it was a miracle.

Its charge faltered, staggered for the first time. And the path behind Jozu cleared. The soldiers carrying Otohime sprinted past the next ridge.

Jozu crashed down again, skidding, bleeding, and shaking from head to toe. His body was failing. His haki was burning out. His diamond form was broken. Yet he planted his feet again.

On trembling legs—facing the monster that dwarfed worlds— Covered in fractures. Dripping ruby-colored blood. And he smiled.

"Round two... you bastard..."

Fengxi’s eyes narrowed as it lowered its head, tusks glowing with primal energy. And it charged. The entire island trembled. The pressure ahead made Jozu’s bones scream. His vision darkened at the edges.

His legs nearly buckled—no.A whisper stirred from deep inside the core of his being. A pulse. A heartbeat that was not his own—Awaken.

The world slowed. The diamond cracks on his body... stopped breaking. Instead, they glowed.

Light flooded them. Energy spiraled through the fractures. His diamond flesh erupted with radiant brilliance—as if a star was being born beneath his skin. The air vibrated. The ground crystallized under his feet.

Jozu’s eyes widened as he felt it—his Devil Fruit... was awakening. The battlefield around him began turning into diamond—the shattered earth, the coral rubble, and the broken walls. All of it crystallized into a translucent, glittering diamond under the influence of his will. Diamond spires erupted around him like a forest of spears.

His voice came out low, trembling not with fear but with power finally unbound.

"So this is... what’s been sleeping inside me..."

The Fengxi thundered closer—Jozu roared, veins bulging, haki surging in obsidian waves—

"DIAMOND... DOMINION!!"

The ground shattered into a tidal wave of crystal. Massive diamond pillars lunged upward, slamming into the Fengxi’s legs, its chest, and its shoulders—each blow causing tremors like earthquakes. But the beast only snarled, breaking diamond spires with brute force, shattering entire formations by stepping through them.

Yet—for the first time—it was slowed. It was forced to brace. Jozu, glowing like a walking star, met the oncoming titan head-on. His remaining arm hardened beyond any diamond he had ever wielded before—a pure crystalline monolith, dense enough to bend the air around it.

He pulled his arm back. The Fengxi lowered its tusks. And the two forces collided—

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

Light exploded. Diamond and divine flesh smashed against each other. Shockwaves tore open the seabed. The dome above cracked with hairline fractures. Every soul on Fishman Island felt the impact.

Where the dust cleared, Jozu was still standing. Barely. Shaking violently. Blood pouring down his chin. And the Fengxi... for the first time... took a half-step back. Jozu spat blood and grinned through broken teeth.

****

A few minutes before Neptune intercepted Elder Mars... The ocean outside Fishman Island was boiling. Not figuratively—literally boiling from the sheer force of the monsters gathering. Dozens of Ancient Emperor Sea Kings, each the size of floating continents, circled the shimmering bubble of Fishman Island. Their scales were jagged continents, their breaths typhoons, their eyes primordial pits of violence.

And beneath them—like a living tide—thousands of lesser sea kings hurled themselves forward in frenzy, clawing, biting, and ramming at the barrier. The whole ocean trembled as if a second moon had fallen into it. At the center of this maelstrom—Whitebeard stood alone.

Back straight. Bisen­tō gripped in one hand. His voice was silent. But his presence alone carved a vacuum in the raging sea. His Observation Haki had been sweeping the abyss for minutes. And what he sensed made his jaw tighten and the veins in his temple throb.

They’re not acting of their own will... Someone’s pushing them.

Something ancient, something deep, something close to the root of the world. His mind flicked back to an old conversation with a man who had changed the world.

Roger.

—There exists a living Ancient Weapon. A mermaid. Poseidon.

—One day she’ll command the Sea Kings themselves.

Whitebeard had scoffed at the time. Not because he doubted Roger—but because the implication was absurd. A mermaid commanding continent-sized beasts? And yet... here he was, surrounded by those very beasts. Driven into a suicidal frenzy.

If Poseidon truly awakened... why attack Fishman Island?

That question gnawed at him—until a surge of energy brushed past his Observation Haki from down below, from inside the island barrier, which still stood intact thanks to him. Whitebeard’s breath hitched. He sensed him.

Neptune.

A familiar presence—one he had shared drinks with, exchanged stories with, and trusted as a fellow kin of the sea, his brother of another race.

What he sensed now from Neptune was not his usual joy and bliss—but pain and collapse. His life was draining like spilled water. Whitebeard’s pupils constricted. Then he sensed another flame: Marco. Fighting desperately, wings flickering, body breaking, protecting Neptune’s fallen body from the Elder.

And another—a blazing, cracked, dying star: Jozu. One arm shattered. Body torn apart. His haki screaming. Facing a monster in the shape of a four-tusked apocalypse. Whitebeard’s teeth ground together. His massive hand tightened around his bisentō.

His rage... began to boil.

A titanic Sea King lunged at him—a whale-serpent with eyes like suns—its maw wide enough to swallow a country whole. Whitebeard pivoted without looking—

CRACK!!

His fist met the monster’s skull, and the sea itself split apart. The shockwave tore open a trench thousands of meters deep, water peeling back as if terrified of touching him. The Sea King recoiled, screeching, several of its fangs shattered. Whitebeard didn’t spare it a glance.

His eyes were still locked downwards—through leagues of water—through the barrier—onto the dying form of Neptune.

"Gurararara..."

But the laugh was empty. Hollow. It shook with grief.

"Neptune... you fool of a fish..." he whispered, voice trembling despite its strength. "I am supposed to be the guardian of your island... the strongest pillar that you could lean on... Why did you risk your life against that damned pigeon-looking bastard...? Why would you let yourself be torn apart like that when you know you cannot harm him...?"

Another Sea King lunged. Whitebeard didn’t even look. He swung his bisentō behind him casually—

BOOOOOOOOM!!!!!

The blade struck the beast’s cheek with a shockwave so violent its skull dented inward, sending it reeling hundreds of meters away, blood spraying like a red storm. Still—he didn’t look at it. His observation haki stayed focused downwards.

Every second he felt Neptune’s life dimming. Every second he felt Marco’s frantic healing weakening. Every second he felt Jozu’s body cracking apart as he fought like a berserk titan.

Whitebeard’s breathing deepened. Regret. Rage. Helplessness. They all churned in his chest like magma.

My sons... my family... and that damned government dares put their filthy hands on them...

His Conqueror’s Haki surged. The sea churned. The beasts hesitated. A moment later—the largest of the Ancient Emperor Sea Kings rose before him. A leviathan so massive its shadow eclipsed the sun beneath the sea. A serpent-dragon with four clawed fins and a crown of bone horns, eyes like swirling storms.

Its massive head leaned down, maw opening, rows of teeth stretching into the darkness of its throat. Whitebeard’s rage finally snapped.

"...I was going to avoid killing you all." His muscles bulged. The veins in his forearm twisted like steel cables. His bisentō hummed with the vibration of annihilation. "But if you’re blocking me..."

"...if you’re stopping me from reaching my sons, from saving my friend..."

"...then I’ll cut down every last one of you."

"GUURAAAA!" Whitebeard vanished in a burst of speed unworthy of a man his size. He soared upward—power coiling around his bisentō like lightning chained in glass. The Emperor Sea King lunged to crush him—too slow.

Whitebeard’s aura consumed him. "Gura Gura no..." He raised the white vibration sphere.

"KABUTO... KIRI!!!"

The ocean turned white. Silence. Then—S H A T T E R.

A single horizontal shockwave cut across the abyss like a divine executioner’s blade. The Sea King didn’t roar. Didn’t thrash. Its head simply... Dropped. Separated cleanly from its colossal body, the cut was so perfect the water hadn’t even entered the wound yet.

The world froze. Then the corpse—larger than islands—fell sideways through the water in slow motion.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

The impact created a localized tsunami even underwater. The other ancient Sea Kings recoiled, instinctively retreating from the monster who had just slain one of their emperors. Whitebeard stood atop the falling corpse, bisentō resting on his shoulder, eyes burning like magma.

"Enough." His voice rolled like a god’s command. "You want to get to my family?" His fist crackled with quake energy. "You’ll have to kill Edward Newgate first."

****

The evacuation galleon creaked as it swayed in the violent tide, lanterns swinging overhead, their orange glow falling over scenes of panic, blood, and desperate hope. Hundreds of fishmen and merfolk were still being ushered aboard by Whitebeard’s men—many wounded, many sobbing, many clutching loved ones who would never open their eyes again.

And among them, on the portside deck where seawater and blood mingled in uneven pools, a young great white shark fishman knelt. Hody Jones, barely a teenager. Barely someone who understood the world. And yet, in the span of minutes, he had lost the entire world he had ever known.

"Nee-chan...?"

His voice trembled as he shook the limp shoulders of the young mermaid lying before him. She had been only a couple of years older. Smart, calm. The one who braided his hair when he was smaller... The one who dragged him out of fights... The one who stole extra food just so he wouldn’t go hungry... The only family he had.

And her body now lay slack on the bloody wooden planks, her head turned to the side, a vacant half-smile still frozen on her lips. The long gash running diagonally across her torso was still bleeding in slow, thick streams—a river of red seeping between the floorboards and dripping down into the sea below. Hody couldn’t breathe. His hands shook violently as he cradled her.

"Sis... Come on... Wake up. We—we made it onto the ship. You said if we got here, we’d be safe. You promised. So get up...!" No movement.

"Sis... PLEASE... The others are watching—please don’t leave me alone!" His voice cracked, dissolving into frantic sobs. The other evacuees turned away out of respect... or because they could not bear to witness grief of this magnitude. A fishman placed a hand on Hody’s shoulder.

"Kid... she’s gone. You need to—"

"DON’T TOUCH ME!" Hody snarled with a feral, broken rage that had nothing to do with strength and everything to do with helplessness. The pirate pulled back quietly, understanding the moment. Hody shook her again. Harder. Harder.

"Get up... GET UP!" He slammed his forehead against hers, tears running freely. "You can’t leave me! You can’t... you can’t..." A strangled, guttural cry tore from his throat as he finally let his weight collapse over her, clinging to her body like he could anchor her soul in place.

Around him, the galleon continued filling. Merfolk children sobbed. Fathers clutched dead sons.

Mothers wailed for daughters torn apart by the world governments’ flames. The deck became a mosaic of grief. And Hody felt every heartbeat, every cry, every broken wail—each one adding to the storm rising in his chest.

Why? Why us? Why always the fishmen? The world trembled with a new commotion.

A group approached—fast. Whitebeard pirates. The fishman and merfolk among them, battered and bleeding, each one holding onto the last straw that might snap at any moment. Behind them, protected within a formation, were the Ryugu kingdom royalty. The two ministers leading the party, the princes, were bruised and shaken, the eldest carrying the newborn princess.

Queen Otohime—dragged by guards with trembling hands. Her body was marred. Her face was no longer serene. Her robe was stained with deep crimson. The moment the evacuees saw her—

Silence fell.

One by one, fishmen lowered their heads. Not in respect. But in biting, seething betrayal.

Someone whispered, "She... she said peace with the humans would save us..."

Another: "She opened the door for the World Government... and they came to kill us."

A third voice cracked: "Her dream... her fault..."

Hody’s head snapped up. His red-rimmed eyes locked onto the queen’s form with an expression twisted between grief and hatred. His sister’s warm blood dripped from his hands onto the deck. He rose slowly. Staggered. But he never took his eyes off Otohime.

"Why...?"

His voice was small at first. Barely a whisper.

"Why did you bring them here...? Why did you trust them...?" Many heard the young teenager but didn’t respond. He only clenched his teeth and glanced around as if looking for something specific. Hody stepped forward, trembling.

"Why... why did you tell us humans would change? Why did you tell us the world would accept us? Why did my sister die because of your dream!?"

His voice cracked into a scream: "WHY DID WE HAVE TO SUFFER FOR YOUR IDEALS!?"

Everyone around was startled by the sudden outburst; even Queen Otohime herself, with a tear-stained face, turned to meet the boy’s eyes, but no answer came. Not from the naive queen. Not from the broken ministers. Not from the three terrified princes. But the silence was an answer in itself.

A poison, a seed. Something ugly twisted in Hody’s chest. Not sorrow anymore. Sorrow had dried. What remained was darker. Hotter. More venomous. Hatred. Raw and radiant.

Hatred for the humans. Hatred for the World Government. Hatred for the Elders who massacred his people. But most of all—

Hatred for the dream that had led to this genocide. The dream of Queen Otohime. Hody clenched his sister’s cooling hand, knuckles whitening.

"She followed you with all her heart... she wanted peace..." His voice shook as he spoke to the queen. "So why are we the ones dying...? While you still stand there without losing anything...?" The wind howled over the ship’s deck as if answering him.