"From today onward, Impel Down will be under the control of the New Marine!!!"
The deafening proclamation, broadcasted with the force of a cannonade, exploded over the still, dead waters surrounding the fortress.
It was a thunderclap that reverberated through every cold, damp corner of the great prison, from the fiery pits of Level 5 to the frozen hell of Level 6.
"What?!"
The guards of Impel Down, men hardened by a lifetime of overseeing the world's most unspeakable horrors, instantly turned pale.
Their blood ran cold.
They looked around wildly, their eyes wide with a dawning, suffocating terror.
The handful of old Marine battleships that had been their protective perimeter had turned.
Now, they were joined by new warships, all bearing a stark, unfamiliar red flag
A dense formation of steel behemoths now surrounded Impel Down, their dark, massive cannons gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen, all aimed inward.
It was the gaze of death itself.
Every guard's heart leaped into their throat.
Their legs trembled uncontrollably.
'Was this… was the Marine rebelling?!'
"Creeeeaaaak—"
With a groan of protesting metal, the massive, skull-faced gates of Impel Down slowly opened.
A bare-chested man with an unusually large, round belly stepped out, his brow bones protruding like the horns of a lesser demon.
He wore a yellow-and-green pharaoh-style headdress and held a long, double-ended iron trident.
It was Hannyabal, the perpetually ambitious Vice Warden.
He led a contingent of guards from within the prison, his face a mask of what he hoped looked like righteous fury.
"Such audacity!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and cracking.
"How dare you surround my Impel Down! What is the meaning of this?!" A barely detectable tremor ran through his words.
"Thud—!"
Gangplanks simultaneously lowered from two of the largest warships, slamming heavily onto the stone entryway and kicking up clouds of dust and grime.
Elite, heavily-armed soldiers in unfamiliar red-and-white uniforms began to file out in perfect, orderly, terrifying rows.
At the same time, the warships that had originally been assigned to guard the prison disgorged their own waves of soldiers, all of whom now sported the new insignia.
In an instant, Impel Down was completely, hopelessly surrounded.
A murderous, disciplined aura filled the air, so thick it was hard to breathe.
"..." Hannyabal took in the scene.
Beads of sweat instantly broke out on his forehead, rolling in large drops down his cheeks.
'This… this scale… they're serious!'
Instinctively, he turned his head, searching for his pillar of support, the true master of this fortress.
A massive, demonic figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the gate.
Standing nearly five meters tall, he towered over everyone, exuding an overwhelming pressure.
Two long, twisted horns protruded from his head.
It was the Warden of Impel Down, Magellan, the user of the Venom-Venom Fruit.
"Marines, this isn't how things are done," Magellan's voice was a low, gravelly rumble.
"Even if you intend to take full control of Impel Down, there are procedures. Paperwork. Coming here with such overwhelming force… are you rebelling?"
"Procedures?!" A fiery, irate voice roared back, a voice that seemed to make the very air boil.
"Magellan, the rules of this sea have already changed!"
Admiral Akainu stepped onto the gangplank.
The steel beneath his boots seemed to tremble and glow red-hot under his weight.
A scorching aura, the signature of the Magma Fruit, rushed toward them, twisting and blurring the air with its intense heat.
Following leisurely behind him, as if out for a casual stroll, were Kizaru and Kuzan.
At the sight of this, the pupils of every single guard in Impel Down contracted to pinpricks.
'All three…'
'All three Marine Admirals…'
'They're all here. In person.'
This was not a negotiation.
This was a hostile takeover.
Warden Magellan… he probably couldn't stop them.
All eyes, terrified and pleading, turned to their warden.
"..." Magellan's expression darkened, his face a warring mask of duty, anger, and dawning comprehension.
Beads of sweat formed and trickled down his demonic visage.
He could clearly sense the raw, undisguised killing intent radiating from Akainu.
It was a warning. It was a threat.
As the Warden of Impel Down, he knew better than anyone the strength of the three super-monsters before him.
One-on-one? He might be able to hold his own for a short while, poison be damned.
But all three at once? He would be annihilated in seconds.
If a conflict truly erupted, Impel Down would fall, and everyone in it would die.
"What… do you want?" Magellan growled, his eyes fixed on Akainu, trying to find some leverage, some sign of weakness.
But the admiral's face, illuminated by the red glow of his own magma, showed only cold, indifferent resolve.
"Take a look," Kizaru's lazy voice cut in.
He stepped forward and pulled two contracts from his coat, handing one to Magellan and one to Hannyabal.
When he passed the contract to the Vice Warden, Kizaru gave him an extra, curious glance.
A flicker of genuine interest flashed in his eyes.
He remembered the meeting.
This unremarkable, big-bellied man had been specifically praised by Mike, called a "warrior who truly upholds Justice."
A man who hated pirates not for breaking the law, but for harming the weak.
According to Mike's new directive, this man was to be the new Warden.
"..." Magellan and Hannyabal silently accepted the contracts, their eyes scanning the pages.
The only sound was the sharp rustle of paper in the oppressive, heavy silence.
With every page he turned, Magellan's expression grew grimmer.
His heart, already heavy, sank into a pit of despair.
The Marines… had achieved independence from the World Government, completely, and in total secrecy.
What did this mean for the world? He didn't dare to think.
Resistance was meaningless.
The tide had already turned.
Hannyabal, meanwhile, had reached the last page of his own contract.
There, at the bottom, was a line of text, clearly written by a hand of great strength and confidence.
'To protect the bright future of the weak and innocent, the New Marine needs you. —Mike.'
The handwriting wasn't elegant, but every stroke carried an indescribable power, an unwavering conviction.
And that conviction… it resonated deeply with the sense of Justice Hannyabal had secretly, truly upheld his entire life.
He thought of the innocent civilians, the families torn apart by the very pirates he was tasked with guarding.
He thought of his own ideals, the ones he'd always pursued, the ones that had always been mocked.
"Warden…" Hannyabal's voice trembled, his eyes wide.
He looked at Magellan, unsure.
"No. Not anymore," Magellan spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle.
He raised a massive, webbed hand and patted Hannyabal's shoulder.
"You are the Warden now. I am the Deputy Warden."
He picked up a pen and, without the slightest hesitation, signed his name on the contract.
Hannyabal stared, momentarily at a loss for words, as he watched Magellan sign his own demotion into effect.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Swallowing his shock, his gratitude, and a thousand other emotions, he picked up his own pen and, with a solemn, newfound dignity, signed "Hannyabal" on the line.
With that, the world's greatest prison was officially handed over to the New Marine.
Kuzan stepped forward, pulling a neatly folded list from his coat.
"These are the prisoner we're taking with us."
Hannyabal took the list.
"Portgas D. Ace… Emporio Ivankov… 'Lightning' Inazuma…" He scanned the names.
"Yes, I understand. I will arrange their transfer immediately."
"As for the remaining criminals…" Akainu's voice rang out, hot as molten magma.
He pulled out a thick, official document from his own coat.
Its cover was emblazoned with a crimson title, a document representing the New Marine's highest, and most final, decree.
He handed the document to the new Warden.
Hannyabal received it with both hands and slowly, gravely, opened it.
Inside was a dense, multi-page list of names.
Each name represented a life steeped in irredeemable sin, crimes against the innocent that went far beyond simple piracy.
"This is…" Hannyabal's voice trembled, but this time, not with fear.
He could feel the terrible, necessary weight this list carried.
He could feel the New Marine's resolve.
"The Execution List."