Ritter moved soundlessly through the ruins of Marineford.
Only the three Admirals remained on the battlefield. Blood mist coiled around his feet, perfectly masking his presence, while a thin white fog slowly seeped into every corridor and chamber of the shattered headquarters.
In the distance, Marine soldiers were busy treating the wounded and clearing debris. No one noticed the crimson shadow slipping deeper into Marineford's heart.
That convenience came courtesy of his younger self. Back then, Ritter loved flooding the battlefield with heavy fog, and before it had fully dispersed, it spared his older self a great deal of effort.
His objective was clear: find the two Marines directly responsible for Gol D. Roger's execution.
"I remember your faces…"
Ritter's pupils tightened in the shadows as the image resurfaced in his mind, Roger kneeling at the execution platform.
Those two Marines, swords in hand. They had used bayonets in reality, but swords felt more fitting, more brutal.
Ritter would never forget their faces. This was not justice. This was rage. He had once had the chance to kill them and chose not to. Mercy, in that moment, had been a gift they never deserved. Do not tell him they were just following orders. Who held the weapons? Who struck the final blow?
Blood mist surged at his fingertips, responding to its master's killing intent.
In Marineford's logistics zone, two Marines leaned against a wall, smoking.
"Hey, did you hear? I wonder who'll handle the execution this time. That's the Pirate King we're talking about," one of them said from a stretcher. He had only just returned from the battle.
"Heh, that'd be one hell of an achievement," the other replied, rubbing his hands together. "Though that arrival was something else. I got hit by the aftershocks. Pretty embarrassing. Still, if the two of us were the ones to take down the Pirate King, we might even get promoted…"
"Promoted?" A chuckle followed. "I doubt you'll get the chance."
A cold voice drifted out of the shadows.
They spun around. All they saw was crimson mist spreading silently across the ground. In the next instant, invisible hands closed around their throats. Their pupils shrank, but no sound escaped.
Ritter emerged slowly from the fog, blood-red eyes looking down on them.
"Don't be afraid. I'm not killing you. Not yet," he said softly, his voice gentle enough to freeze their blood. "You're still useful."
The blood mist poured into their mouths and noses. Their vision blurred, then snapped back into focus, though a faint crimson glow lingered deep in their pupils.
"Remember this. On the day of the execution…" Ritter leaned in and whispered a few quiet words into their ears.
The two Marines nodded stiffly, like puppets with their strings pulled.
Satisfied, Ritter withdrew the mist and melted back into the shadows.
"Captain Roger. This time…" His voice vanished into the wind.
His figure faded from the ruins, the blood mist retreating like a receding tide. He cast one final glance at the two Marines under his control, a cold smile tugging at his lips.
"Time to see the captain."
His body dispersed into ash, blending into the smoke still hanging over the battlefield. Patrol lines, surveillance Den Den Mushi, roaming guards. Under the cover of blood mist, all of it might as well have not existed.
Impel Down.
Once hailed as an impregnable fortress, the great prison was nothing more than a joke in Ritter's eyes. He stood before the Gates of Justice and slipped through as a cloud of mist. As long as the prison was not completely sealed, he had countless ways in.
"Level Six. I'm coming."
His mist drifted through Impel Down's dark corridors like a crimson specter.
Magellan stood at the entrance to Level Six, speaking with Vice Warden Hannyabal. Poison dripped slowly from his boots onto the stone floor.
"Tomorrow at noon, the Golden Lion, Shiki, will be transferred here," Magellan's voice echoed through the empty halls. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku personally ordered him imprisoned in the deepest part of Level Six, alongside those so-called legends."
Hannyabal rubbed his hands together, ambition flashing in his eyes. "Warden, don't worry. I'll make sure to give this legendary pirate a very warm welcome."
"Tomorrow, Shiki will be brought in," Magellan repeated flatly. "High command wants him locked in the deepest cell of Level Six."
Hannyabal's eyes lit up. "Oh! What an incredible achievement! When I become Warden…"
He clamped a hand over his mouth, too late.
Magellan sighed. "Hannyabal, you again…"
"I'm sorry, Vice Warden. I always…" Hannyabal waved his hands frantically, failing to notice a thin wisp of blood mist sliding past his feet.
"I am the Warden."
"Understood, Warden!"
Ritter smiled quietly. Nothing had changed. One obsessed with promotion, the other unable to control his own poison. As they talked, blood mist crept through the ventilation shafts toward the depths of Level Six.
Magellan frowned suddenly and turned toward the shadows. "Strange. I feel like something is watching us."
Hannyabal tensed, scanning the area. "A Level Six inmate escaped?!"
Shiryu's hand settled on his sword hilt as his Observation Haki spread outward.
Ritter let out a silent chuckle and withdrew his mist along the ducts. Magellan's instincts were sharp, unfortunately for him.
Ritter's form reassembled in the darkness of Level Six, standing before a single cell.
He waited until everyone had left.
Thin mist spread silently through the level, a transparent veil covering the lens of the surveillance Den Den Mushi. To the guards monitoring the feed, Roger still hung his head, a lifeless shell. What they did not know was that the real Roger had lifted his head, surprise gleaming in his eyes.
"You can speak."
Ritter raised a hand in reassurance.
"We meet again, young Ritter!"
"That presence…" Roger's lips curved upward. "So you finally came, kid?"
Blood mist condensed inside the cell as Ritter stepped forward. He dropped to one knee, his voice low and restrained.
"Captain…"
Roger burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "Hahahaha! That face of yours is awful! What, did I die particularly badly in the future?"
Ritter did not answer. His fists clenched, blood mist roiling violently around him, on the verge of breaking free.
Even though he had experienced this once before, seeing his captain like this still made his chest ache.
Roger's laughter faded.
"Hey, hey. Don't make that face. I chose this. You know that."
"I know!" Ritter snapped, looking up, fury blazing in his eyes. "But those Marines, those idiots, they don't understand anything! They think killing you will end this era?"
His voice trembled, thick with anger that refused to fade.