Aokiji noticed a faint layer of mist rising from the sea, but he assumed it was caused by the cold air from freezing the surface nearby. Without dwelling on it, he rushed back into the forest.
"Plunderer, Shirogai Yamikuro… I really underestimated you before," Aokiji muttered.
When he returned to the battlefield, Kizaru and a group of Marines who had climbed up from the ground were the only ones there. Shirogai was nowhere to be seen.
Hovering in the air, Kizaru peered down at the forest below with his usual lazy grin.
"Ooh~~ Shirogai, hiding already? Did you run out of stamina?"
"Hm?" Aokiji frowned. Something was wrong. He distinctly remembered freezing all of their subordinates earlier—so how were these Marines free?
"Arara… that's not right," he murmured, his instincts prickling.
He approached the group of Marines and called out in a deep tone, "Oi, how did you get out of the ice?"
But none of them answered. They didn't even seem to notice him.
"Where is this place?"
"What a strange city…"
They looked around in confusion as if Aokiji wasn't there at all. The mist thickened, swallowing the trees and twisting their surroundings into something else entirely.
"Where are Admiral Kuzan and Admiral Kizaru?" one Marine asked nervously.
"I don't know. Last thing I remember, Admiral Aokiji froze us."
"These buildings… they look ancient, covered in dust."
"The fog's so thick. Everyone stay close. Don't get separated!"
Aokiji remained silent, his eyes narrowing. Strange city, ancient ruins, unsettling mist… It was unmistakable.
"Shirogai, what ability did you unleash this time?" he muttered, scratching his head.
He lifted his gaze toward Kizaru. "Borsalino, do you see this too?"
But Kizaru didn't respond. Instead, he muttered in his drawn-out voice, "Oooh~~ terrifying. When did this old man leave the island and end up in this city?"
Hovering lower, Kizaru studied the streets below. "Strange style, isn't it? These buildings look like they've walked out of history itself." He dodged something unseen in mid-air, his tone losing its usual teasing edge.
Aokiji sighed. "Looks like he's caught in it too."
Moments later, frost spread across a nearby window, forming crystalline letters.
"I am next to you," it read.
Kizaru adjusted his sunglasses and chuckled grimly. "So, I'm still in the forest. An illusion, huh?"
"Yes," Aokiji's icy words spelled out.
"Even with Armament Haki, this illusion won't fade. How troublesome…" Kizaru muttered.
"What do you see?" Aokiji's words asked.
Kizaru looked at the misty streets, his face unusually grim. "An ancient city… lavish, full of history."
But then he froze. On a nearby doorway sat a small puppet of a girl, her head bowed. His body trembled.
"No way…"
His gaze darted around, recognizing fragments of something he had buried deep in memory. Musical banners fluttered across the streets, engraved scores carved into walls—songs etched into stone.
"This can't be…"
His face darkened as realization struck. "The Dusty Singing Kingdom… but that was erased by the Buster Call decades ago."
Suddenly, a soft, childish voice floated through the air, accompanied by song:
"Dance, sing… may this world be free of sorrow. Passing ships, stay and enjoy our music…"
Kizaru's eyes widened. His smile had vanished completely. He muttered with rare severity, "Impossible… it was destroyed twenty-six years ago. I was there. I… oversaw it."
The illusion shifted, and before him appeared a cheerful little girl with a wooden puppet in hand. Her smile was bright, her voice gentle.
"Uncle, are you here for our singing competition too? I'll be competing. Let's both do our best!"
In the distance, a man's voice called out, "Ya, come back. It's time to head to the front."
The streets filled with joyful singers, tens of thousands of voices blending together in celebration. They sang of peace, of beauty, of their beloved kingdom—unaware that the World Government had already sentenced them to death.
Kizaru remembered it vividly. The Buster Call that followed turned songs into screams, music into wails. The kingdom of song was obliterated, reduced to ashes. He himself had walked among the ruins, where he found that same girl's lifeless head staring up at him.
Now, in the mist, she appeared again. Her eyes lifeless, her smile twisted.
"Uncle… let's sing together."
Rotting bodies emerged from the fog, broken limbs and crushed heads still singing in eerie unison.
"Sing! Dance! Celebrate this beautiful kingdom!"
Their voices grew louder, vengeful and haunting.
Kizaru shut his eyes, his voice low. "…Terrifying."
Meanwhile, high above the sea, Shirogai Yamikuro stood calmly, his figure shrouded in smoke. He bowed slightly, his voice carrying like a whisper across the waves.
"Welcome, righteous Marines… to the Land of Finality."
[Smoke-Smoke Fruit · Demon-Modified Fifth Form Awakening: Land of Finality]
A forbidden ability—one that resurrected nations erased by the World Government and Celestial Dragons, dragging their ghosts back into the living world through mist and memory.
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