"Purupurupuru... purupurupuru..." The Den Den Mushi with him came to life.
"Kacha! Sengoku!" came Vice Admiral Tsuru's voice, sharp as a knife. "Got movement in the water! Something big's coming up from the seafloor, it's them alright!"
Exactly on schedule.
"When will they break surface?"
"Two minutes, tops! Got those visual distractions in place like you ordered. Pacifista units all positioned in that new formation. Waiting on your word to lock this battlefield down."
"Hold for sixty seconds," Sengoku replied. "Once their main ship pops up, start Shellfall! Target their leaders first, knock them down and split them up."
"Understood."
Sengoku lowered his hand and took one last look at the seemingly peaceful sea.
So it begins.
He didn't need to see the enemy yet. He knew them. Intimately. Their habits, what makes them tick, where they fall short in a fight.
Whitebeard, the strongest man alive, terminally ill but running on pure willpower and loyalty to his "sons." Too stubborn to back down, too big a name to die in a corner.
Marco the Phoenix, the brain and the bandage of the crew, keeping spirits high.
Diamond Jozu, the human shield! Tough as his namesake but easily distracted by the right bait.
Vista, Thatch, Ace's old squad—all reliable, all predictable.
And trailing behind them, pure chaos: a mishmash of New World pirate crews, each captain itching to prove they belonged with the big fish. A perfect recipe for falling apart when the pressure blows!
And pressure? "I'll give them PLENTY!" Sengoku grinned.
He barked commands again. "Get the CP net ready! I want those commander-level pirates marked the second they touch land! Keep our counter-forces in reserve where they're likely to land! Tell Aokiji to box them in and slow them down, don't chase after them! Kizaru should hit fast and vanish, no taking on multiple commanders at once! As for Akainu..."
He paused.
Akainu had turned his head slightly, as if aware of the attention.
Sengoku continued, calm and firm.
"...We will unleash him when the third wave begins. Give him plenty of room and priority to torch the most crowded areas. Let him run wild where it will hurt them most!"
Akainu's lips pulled back in what wasn't quite a smile.
It wasn't a grin of humour. It was a predator baring teeth.
"Perfect," Sengoku thought. "Use your monsters, don't fight against their nature!"
**************************************
The sea exploded.
BOOOOM.
The bay floor ruptured as Moby Dick tore through the surface, water surging around its hull. Two more ships followed, masked by the rising mist and backlit by the morning sun. The world held its breath as Whitebeard appeared at the front of his ship, his massive frame unmistakable even from afar.
Gasps echoed across the plaza. The Whitebeard Pirates, in full strength, now stood revealed — ships, commanders, allies. The Grand Line's fiercest rebels, drawn together beneath the banner of the world's most powerful man.
Sengoku stepped forward. His voice, amplified by the Den Den Mushi, thundered across the battlefield:
"WHITEBEARD."
Across the bay, atop the figurehead of the Moby Dick, stood the titan himself.
Edward Newgate.
A man larger than life. His bisento rested at his side, and his eyes — fierce, bloodshot — locked on the execution platform.
With a groan like the splitting of mountains, he stepped forward.
"Gurararara… Sengoku, you old relic. Still wearing that smug look, eh?"
Sengoku didn't flinch. "You stand before the gates of justice. There will be no retreat."
Whitebeard smirked. "I ain't here to run."
**************************************
As soon as the Moby Dick fleet breaches, Aokiji rises from his seat with a sigh, bones cracking.
"Well... time to cool things down a bit~"
He lifts a single hand toward the sea and whispers:
"Ice Age."
In seconds, the entire bay flash-freezes. Ships lock in place. Pirate reinforcements attempting to surface from below get trapped in ice. Escape routes vanish. A pristine glacier stretches from the harbor mouth to the first line of Marine ships.
The pirates find themselves on a frozen battlefield, hemmed in by walls of ice—perfect for vertical flanks by Marine snipers and ambush squads.
And Sengoku raised a hand, still calm.
"FIRE!"
From the walls surrounding the battlefield, hidden artillery batteries unleashed hell! Dozens of shells screamed through the air—not regular cannonballs, but specially designed concussion bombs! Flash charges erupted mid-air with blinding light, throwing the pirates into confusion, forcing Marco to shield his comrades with phoenix flames, making Jozu transform early into his diamond form, and causing Vista to yell for a temporary retreat.
The pirates stumbled, not from wounds, but from pure chaos! The attack wasn't meant to kill. It was meant to control.
He took a step forward.
The Marines looked to him, waiting for their cue. They saw a golden-robed Buddha, but inside that powerful form moved something different. Not just a warrior, not just a paper-pusher.
A mind sharper than the finest blade. A machine of absolute war.
"SOLDIERS OF JUSTICE!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield like thunder. "This is not a battle of vengeance! It is not a spectacle! This is a reckoning!"
The crowd fell silent.
"For too long, we've let these pirates run wild under their flags! Men who speak about 'freedom' while leaving nothing but towns in ruins! Today, the world answers back! Today, we burn this disease out once and for all!"
His eyes scanned the pirate fleet.
"Let the seas know: The Marines aren't just defenders anymore! We're the HAMMER OF JUSTICE! And justice won't beg for peace—it'll TAKE IT!"
He turned to the platform behind him, eyes cold as steel.
"BEGIN!"
The air crackled with tension. The pirates, still reeling from the first attack, started to regroup, Marco taking to the sky in a blaze of blue flames, Whitebeard raising his massive bisento. The air itself seemed to crack as the old man prepared to unleash his quake powers.
But Sengoku moved first.
"HHHNNNNNGGGAAAAAAHHHH!" Golden light erupted around him as he launched himself from the platform, his body expanding to its full Buddha form in mid-leap. The entire plaza shook when he landed with the force of a meteor, sending a massive shockwave in all directions!
The shockwave wasn't wild—it was controlled, focused. Marines behind him stood protected. Pirates at their ships were knocked flat on their backsides, weapons flying from their hands! Whitebeard's commanders scattered like leaves in a storm!
"HOLD YOUR POSITIONS!" Sengoku roared, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.
Then it came.
A thunderous wave of Conqueror's Haki erupted from Whitebeard; raw, untamed, full of rage. It surged across the bay like a tsunami of willpower. Marines staggered back in instinctive terror; the skies above seemed to ripple, and entire units crumpled to the ground in convulsions. A few of the pirate allies fainted where they stood. Even the execution platform groaned under the weight of that pressure.
But on the battlefield, standing like a pillar of history, Fleet Admiral Sengoku did not move.
His massive golden frame radiated absolute stillness.
Then, his eyes narrowed, and a pulse of something older than violence beat through the air.
It wasn't rage. It wasn't even aggression.
It was divine serenity.
With a deep exhale, his own Conqueror's Haki swept outward—not like a blade, but like a golden lotus blooming in slow motion, petal by petal. Where Whitebeard's haki roared like a beast, Sengoku's descended like a heavenly truth, serene yet undeniable. The air shimmered with golden light as his aura pressed back the chaos—not crushing it, but calming it, containing it, transcending it.
A perfect circle of stillness emanated from Sengoku. Within that radius, Marines rose to their feet, steadied by the spiritual gravity of a man who stood not as a warrior, but as Justice incarnate.
Whitebeard's haki faltered for a breath.
His mustache twitched. He stared at Sengoku across the battlefield, and for just a moment, his grin returned—not mocking, but acknowledging.
"So that's what you've become, Sengoku. A wall that doesn't shake."
Sengoku's golden eyes did not blink."And you're still trying to batter it down with your fists."
Around him, elite Marine squads charged into the gap he'd created.
And as the battle exploded into full chaos, he felt no hesitation. No nostalgia. No fear.
This war wouldn't end in some dramatic stand-off where both sides limp away.
It would end with the Marines rising from the smoke and blood—not just victorious, but UNSTOPPABLE!
He would make it happen. No half measures. No legendary heroes. No Joyboy nonsense. ONLY JUSTICE!