Enies Lobby – Secret Summit Room
The meeting hall beneath Enies Lobby was constructed behind layers of justice—both literal and symbolic. Each wall was forged from stone stolen from defeated kingdoms. The great table was made of petrified seastone. No windows. Only glowing chandeliers made from giant firefly corpses dangling from the ceiling.
A place where monsters played diplomats.
And I was finally invited.
Not as a guest.
But as a threat.
Invitation by Blood
Two days after I left Drum Island, a Marine vice admiral personally delivered the invitation.
He didn't say a word—just knelt on one knee and left the golden scroll in my hand.
The seal?
House Figarland.
My father's cousins. The same clan rumored to have celestial blood even older than the Tenryuubito name.
Their words were never friendly.
But always important.
And that's why I came.
Raisa and Mireille remained behind for this meeting. This was not a place for girls—yet.
I needed quiet cruelty, not loyalty.
The Masks
There were seven others.
Each wore a mask.
It was tradition for private gatherings like this—every noble had to wear one from their ancestral lineage. A courtesy that preserved plausible deniability should someone die in the room.
The first wore a wolf mask. The Roswald representative, no doubt.
The second had a sunken lion mask made of obsidian. Likely a Donquixote cousin.
A third wore a golden veil shaped like angel wings.
A woman. Quiet. Dangerous.
And then there was me.
I wore no mask.
Because I wanted them to know who I was.
The Offer
Lord Figarland himself stood.
Tall. Handsome. Ageless. With blond hair that refused to gray and eyes that had seen kingdoms burn like paper.
He spoke like wind cutting through bone.
"Lucien. You've been busy. Drum Island now flies your banner. Even without official sanction."
"I didn't ask for permission."
A chuckle. From the lion mask. "And yet here you are. Sitting at our table."
I leaned back, lips curling. "Perhaps I came to see who deserves to die first."
Murmurs. One woman gasped.
But the man in the angel-wing mask laughed softly. "He's like the old ones. Like the originals."
Lord Figarland raised a gloved hand. Silence fell.
"Why are you here, Lucien?"
I didn't hesitate.
"To offer something none of you have: vision."
The Proposal
I dropped a scroll onto the table.
On it: a map of the world—but with red marks across zones of conflict, corruption, and resource collapse.
"You lot feast on stagnation. You call yourselves gods, yet you've built nothing in centuries. You let pirates run rampant because fear keeps the masses humble. Admirals die for your mistakes. Kings bribe your silence. And while you sleep in bubbles…"
I tapped the scroll.
"…I've been building a dynasty."
The angel-winged woman whispered, "You wish to challenge the council?"
"No," I said. "I want to replace it. But not by force."
More murmurs.
"I'll create order. A Celestial Empire that doesn't hide in Mariejois but rules openly from the ashes of nations."
"And what do you need from us?" the lion asked.
I smiled slowly.
"Nothing. I came to warn you. This is happening—with or without your blessing."
Intermission – Private Chamber
Later, Lord Figarland summoned me to a deeper chamber. Alone.
"Bold words. Dangerous ones."
"I learned from the best. Your House slaughtered nine other noble lines in the century of cleansing. I'm just more honest about my goals."
He studied me.
Then tossed me a ring.
A seal. His family's.
"Use it once. Only once. If you're cornered and must call in blood."
"Why?"
"Because you remind me of myself before I started lying to keep power."
At the Docks
When I emerged from Enies Lobby, night had fallen.
Raisa was waiting with Mireille at the ship.
"Did they try to kill you?" she asked, adjusting her gloves.
"No. They tried to understand me. Which is worse."
Mireille handed me a glass of spiced wine.
"And?" she asked.
I looked out at the sea, cold wind pulling at my coat.
"They've accepted the inevitable."
Interlude – Cipher Pol Archives
Two days later
A Cipher Pol 0 agent knelt before the archive chief.
"Report," the man ordered.
The agent whispered, "Subject Lucien has declared an intent to establish a formal empire under his personal flag. No formal declaration of war, but his movements suggest long-term world destabilization."
"Any alliances?"
"None yet. But his name was whispered in Alabasta. And in the skies above Skypiea."
The chief closed the folder.
"Let him play king. For now."