The familiar embrace froze Doflamingo where he stood.
Once, he had believed he had moved past that grief—but the moment he saw her, he knew he had never truly left it behind.
He had been trapped at the age when his mother died. Always.
If there was one person in this world whom Doflamingo trusted completely, without reservation, it was only one.
His mother.
Unlike the other Celestial Dragons, his mother had displayed kindness and compassion from his earliest memories, leaving Doflamingo puzzled and conflicted.
While other parents would execute disobedient slaves without hesitation, his own parents rarely punished theirs.
They even provided medicine when slaves fell ill.
When slaves made mistakes, they weren't punished—instead, they were comforted and reassured.
As a child, Doflamingo couldn't understand his parents' ways.
But seeing the smiles on the slaves' faces and his parents' own joy, he lacked the awareness to question it, only mimicking their behavior subconsciously.
Yet unlike his parents, Doflamingo found no real happiness in the slaves' gratitude.
The only joy he felt came from his mother and father's approval and praise.
His kindness towards slaves made Doflamingo unable to fit in with the other Celestial Dragons.
When he was bullied by other Celestial Dragon children, it was his mother who gently tended to his wounds, holding and comforting him.
His mother would even personally cook lavish meals for him.
Memories of his mother were always warm and unforgettable.
Whether he was sick, injured, or wronged, as long as his mother was by his side, everything seemed bearable—there was a place where he could rest peacefully.
But all of this was destroyed by his own father!
He renounced his status as a Celestial Dragon, willingly descending to live among the lowly commoners.
His foolish father believed he could reform those commoners, but what did they receive in return?
Hatred, curses, venomous resentment, endless humiliation!
Their money was snatched away by the frenzied mob.
His mother and father were insulted and beaten, while he and his younger brother were hoisted like trophies on steel pitchforks, paraded in triumph.
When he and his brother cried out, his mother was the first to rush forward.
She desperately pulled them down from the pitchforks, then wrapped her soft arms around them.
In his mother's embrace, he watched helplessly as those damned commoners trampled over her body.
His mother suppressed her pain, refusing to cry out.
Instead, she kept her gentle gaze fixed on him and his brother, soothing them with tender words.
By the next day, after the frenzied villagers had left, his mother was barely clinging to life.
She still held them, her back drenched in blood.
His father lay on the ground, covered in wounds.
But he paid him no mind.
He only carried his mother, searching for a quiet place where she could rest.
Life afterward remained harsh, but as long as his mother was there, he didn't feel as much despair.
Yet all of this ended when Doflamingo turned eight.
His mother, weakened by years of malnutrition and the abuse from the commoners, finally succumbed.
She fell ill.
Doflamingo wanted to get her treatment, but because of his father's choices, they had abandoned their Celestial Dragon status—they didn't have a single coin to their name.
Ignoring his father's wails, Doflamingo silently left the house to seek out the slaves his mother had once helped.
But when he arrived at their doors, something unexpected happened.
Even when he pleaded in the most humble and sincere tone, they mercilessly beat him before throwing him out.
One, two, three, four—all of them the same!
It was as if they had forgotten the kindness they'd received in Mariejois.
As Doflamingo watched their faces twist with satisfaction while they struck him, his heart filled with bitter resentment.
In the end, he returned with nothing but wounds, dragging himself to his mother's lifeless body.
At that moment, Rosinante stood weeping by their mother's bedside.
Through tears, he told him that their father had gone to find a doctor—but he had been gone for two days and still hadn't returned.
Until her last breath, their mother had longed to see their father and him one final time.
Doflamingo didn't know if he had cried at that moment. He only knew he had grasped his mother's hand.
It was so cold, so bitterly cold that it seemed to freeze all the blood in his body.
From that moment on, Doflamingo had already made up his mind—he would make everyone pay!
And he succeeded.
He killed his own father, the source of all tragedies.
He also killed those slaves as punishment for their ingratitude.
He also killed those civilians as retribution for their humiliation of him.
But after Doflamingo had done everything, looking at his younger brother who fled from him in fear, he felt an inexplicable emptiness in his heart for some reason.
And it wasn't until today that the missing piece in his heart was finally filled by that embrace.
The proud flamingo shed scalding tears at this moment.
Gazing at the familiar figure before him, his voice choked with emotion.
"Mother... is it really you?"
Seeing her two sons who had changed so much, this great mother didn't say much.
She simply held them tightly in her arms, her voice as gentle as it had been years ago.
"I'm sorry, my children. It was mother's fault for not protecting you well enough..."
Her voice carried unspeakable sorrow and pain.
Doflamingo then opened his arms and gently embraced his mother.
"I've missed you so much... mother."
Holding her two children, she was already weeping uncontrollably.
A soul so pure could be briefly summoned to this world by Jake's ability.
At this moment, Jake looked at Doflamingo and sighed.
This was what he had promised Rosinante - to give Doflamingo one final moment of warmth before death.
About ten minutes later, Doflamingo's heart stopped beating with a smile on his face, his body gradually growing cold.
Rosinante held his brother cold body while shedding one last tear.
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