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The metal door warped like a mass of soft clay, liquefying under an unseen force. Through the newly forged breach, the six intruders stepped into the subterranean laboratory—a place of cold steel and futuristic design that felt centuries ahead of the world above.
Gildo Tesoro's eyes lit up as he realized the significance of the man standing before them. "If my guess is correct," he said, a smooth smile spreading across his face, "you must be the man whose intellect is said to be five hundred years ahead of humanity. The scientist whose bounty is second only to the Thunder Emperor himself within his crew—Dr. Vegapunk?"
The bounties of the Thunder God Pirates had long since transcended common sense. Between Arthur, Vegapunk, and Shiliew, the combined total approached a staggering 10 billion Berries. Of course, the number was academic—there wasn't a soul alive brave enough to try and collect it.
"Indeed, that is me," Vegapunk replied. He nodded, his composure unshakable. No matter the circumstance, he remained clinical and detached—outside of a theoretical breakthrough, very little could cause his pulse to quicken.
"Gyaralalalalala! Then we're in the right place!" Mad Treasure laughed savagely. "Arthur must have left some Pure Gold with you. Hand it over now and save yourself some agony!"
"Pure Gold? You mean this?" Vegapunk reached up and pulled a necklace from beneath his collar. At its end hung a shard that pulsed with a blinding, ethereal light. His voice held a note of genuine regret. "A pity, really. This substance was the result of a perfect accident. The original manufacturing method has been lost to time, and with my current resources, I have yet to replicate it perfectly."
"Gyaralalalalala! No wonder the Luck-Luck Fruit led us straight here! The Pure Gold is in the hands of a frail old scientist? Luck is truly on our side!"
"Dr. Vegapunk," Tesoro interjected, his voice trembling with a mix of greed and excitement. "Hand the gold to us. I can guarantee these men won't harm you. After all, we cannot afford to face the Thunder Emperor's wrath if you are killed. Besides, a single shard is a pittance—he surely has plenty more!"
To Tesoro, Pure Gold was the ultimate treasure—something said to be valuable enough to buy the entire world.
"I remember now... You're one of the Warlords the Marines recently assembled, aren't you?" Vegapunk mused.
"You want it? Very well." Vegapunk nodded with an eerie calm, as if he were facing children rather than world-class killers. "If you can survive long enough to stand before me again, the Pure Gold is yours. I'll even guarantee that Arthur won't come looking for your heads."
"What do you mean by that?" Tesoro's heart skipped a beat. That gnawing sense of dread was back, stronger than ever.
"Perfect experimental subjects for a combat trial... I believe that's what you are," Vegapunk said, his glasses glinting under the lab lights as he pressed a single button.
.............
SHATTER!
The sound of breaking glass echoed, followed by the heavy splash of liquid hitting the floor.
The six intruders spun toward the sound. As a figure slowly stepped out from the shadows, they nearly lost their ability to speak.
"The Thunder Emperor??"
Emerging from the darkness was a naked silhouette. He stepped out of a shattered creation tank, nutrient fluid dripping from his body as an automated system fitted him with a high-tech combat suit.
The figure stood about 2.2 meters tall, possessing a frame of corded, powerful muscle. His black hair fell wildly over his shoulders. But it was his eyes that were most terrifying—they were cold, devoid of emotion, like a machine of pure slaughter.
He was a perfect physical replica of Arthur.
The "Pure Gold Alliance" was paralyzed by shock, but the nightmare was only beginning. One by one, the lights in the laboratory flickered on, illuminating the vast, darkened perimeter. Thousands of creation tanks lined the walls as far as the eye could see. Inside each one, another "Thunder Emperor" slept in silence.
"I am aware that these Lineage Factor Soldiers lack Arthur's combat instinct," Vegapunk said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing lab mice. "However, their Devil Fruit abilities are identical, and their physical durability is roughly the same. I should think one would be more than enough to crush a 'Warlord'."
"I'm a man of my word. Be good little test subjects. If you survive an encounter with even one of these soldiers, I'll let you leave. I won't break my promise."
"..."
"This place... no wonder it didn't need guards," Mad Treasure whispered, cold sweat pouring down his face. He backed up against Tesoro, his voice cracking. "Did Doflamingo actually see this coming? I... we..."
"RUN!!" the six of them roared in unison, sprinting toward the exit at the absolute limit of their speed.
.............
The Battlefield.
Meanwhile, the war between the Thunder God Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates had entered its most violent phase.
It was a total collision: Captain against Captain, fleet against fleet. This was the first time in the New Era that two Hegemon-level crews had clashed with their full might. Thousands of men and over a hundred ships became a chaotic tide of steel and blood.
Shiliew was a whirlwind of carnage, the metallic scent of blood following him like a shroud. No one dared ignore his presence as he took on three Whitebeard Captains at once, including "Flower Sword" Vista.
HRAAAAGH—!
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard cast aside his bisento. He dropped into a slight crouch, the muscles in his arms bulging like coiled serpents. He reached out with his massive hands, his fingers clawing at the empty air as if he were grabbing hold of a physical fabric.
With a gutteral roar, he unleashed a strike that seemed to tear the very dimensions apart.
CRACK—SHATTER!
The ocean began to vibrate violently, as if a world-ending tsunami were brewing. In the next instant, the sea before them literally fractured. The water was sliced into massive, rectangular blocks that tilted and swayed, threatening to capsize everything in sight.
The pirate ships were tossed about like autumn leaves in a hurricane, helpless against the divine wrath of the "World's Strongest." A strike of this magnitude could bury both fleets at the bottom of the ocean in a heartbeat.
"Worried that my Captains will slaughter your sons? How unsightly, old man!" Arthur shouted. He and Whitebeard were now separated by the entire length of the island-ship.
That one move had shattered the sea as far as the eye could see—a true cataclysm. Whitebeard merely looked on with disdain, not deigning to answer. To him, the battle between the Captains was like children squabbling—if the "parents" had to intervene constantly, it would be a disgrace.
"ROOM."
Arthur opened his palm. A translucent, spherical dome erupted from his hand, expanding at a dizzying speed until it blanketed both the sky and the sea.
Maintaining a ROOM of this magnitude was an incredible drain on his stamina. Even with Arthur's monstrous reserves, it wasn't a state he could maintain indefinitely.
Destruction was easy, but restoration required finesse. The Thunder God Grand Fleet was unprepared for the ocean itself being tilted—they had no way to counter it. Arthur had to step in.
He possessed six Devil Fruit powers, but in this moment, the versatility of the Op-Op Fruit was the most awe-inspiring of them all.
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