Inside the villa's council hall.
Kael Grylls sat alone at the head of the long table, eyes closed. His fingers tapped an unconscious rhythm against the polished surface.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
In a room so silent it felt dead, that monotonous sound became the only source of noise. It landed on everyone's heart like a hammer.
Moria had even suppressed his trademark laughter. A rare gravity settled over his pale face.
Mihawk sat upright, posture razor-straight. The red tea at his side had long gone cold. His hawk-like golden eyes were lowered, as if weighing something in silence.
Caron sat respectfully to Kael's left, breathing so lightly it was as if he feared the air itself.
Everyone here was core. They knew their boss too well.
Most days, Kael could be lazy enough to sleep on a lounge chair for an entire day. He could throw a tantrum at Mihawk over what to eat. He could joke with anyone, no airs, no distance.
But when he became serious like this…
It meant something big enough to shake the world was about to happen.
Creeeak.
The heavy wooden doors opened, snapping the stillness in half.
A figure strolled in, wrapped in a flamboyant pink feather coat, a rebellious grin carved across his face.
Donquixote Doflamingo.
In recent years, Kael's "free-range management" had almost made him forget there was still a master above his head. Under the protection of the Warlord title, the Donquixote Family's underground business expanded smoothly, and with it, the arrogance rooted in his Celestial Dragon blood quietly grew back.
Until yesterday.
A top-secret order from Sabaody tore him out of his comfortable nest in the North Blue.
"Fufufufu… what is it?" Doflamingo swaggered into the hall, forcing his usual arrogance over the unease twisting in his gut. "Calling me so urgently… did you run into trouble?"
The moment the words left his mouth, three cold gazes fell on him at once.
Mihawk raised his eyes. The look was sharp enough to cut, as if it could peel open a soul.
Moria turned his head. In the shadows, his massive frame radiated pressure without even trying.
Even Caron, the so-called "combat trash," fixed him with the kind of authority that comes from years of managing people from the top.
Three completely different auras braided together.
Doflamingo's grin stiffened. His throat felt like an invisible hand had clamped down.
He forced himself to remain calm, pulled out a chair, and sat.
Alarms screamed in his head.
Something was wrong. Not just wrong. It was the kind of wrong that was twelve parts out of ten.
Then the tapping stopped.
Kael slowly opened his eyes.
In that instant, Doflamingo felt as if the light in the room dimmed, swallowed by those deep golden irises.
There was none of Kael's usual laziness. No teasing. No play.
Only calm, like the deep sea.
And beneath that calm, a madness hot enough to burn the world to ash.
Kael's gaze swept over everyone, then settled on Doflamingo.
His voice was soft, but it struck like thunder inside every mind.
"I'm going to…"
He dragged the words out on purpose, savoring the moment everyone held their breath.
"…storm Mary Geoise."
The council hall became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Time seemed to freeze.
Caron's face flushed, an almost delirious red. His breathing turned rough, fists clenched tight, eyes blazing with fanatic heat.
To him, Kael's words were scripture. Forget storming Mary Geoise. If Kael told him to end the world right now, he would not hesitate.
Moria's huge mouth fell open slightly, his shock fossilized on his face.
"Kishi…" He tried to force out his trademark laugh to break the absurdity, only to find his throat so dry no sound came.
Was this a joke?
That was Mary Geoise.
Mihawk was the calmest of them all. He merely lifted a hand, idly stroking the short beard he'd grown over these years.
In those hawk eyes there was no fear.
Instead, there was a glint… of anticipation.
He was evaluating. Calculating feasibility.
And, more importantly, what kind of opponents he might meet.
As for Doflamingo, his mind went completely blank.
He doubted his own ears.
Storm Mary Geoise?
Was this a dream?
Or had this man finally gone insane?
He stared at Kael, desperate to find the slightest hint of a joke.
There was none.
Kael's seriousness was terrifying.
It was the absolute confidence of a man who toys with the world in his palm.
The pure madness of someone who treats rules like dust.
He would do it.
He really would.
That thought struck Doflamingo like lightning, numbing him from scalp to heel.
Fear surged up from the deepest part of his soul, crushing his arrogance and tearing off his mask.
Only then did he remember.
This man was a monster who once walked into Marineford alone.
A lunatic who slaughtered Celestial Dragons in broad daylight.
"Kael…" Doflamingo's voice came out dry and hoarse. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat refused to form words.
Kael ignored his shock and began issuing orders. His tone returned to calm, but the authority in it allowed no debate.
"Caron."
"Yes!" Caron snapped straight.
"You stay and hold Sabaody." Kael's composure was frightening. "Once this happens, our underground network will become the World Government's first target for venting their rage. Use every resource to stabilize the situation. If something must be cut loose, cut it loose. Better to lose territory and keep people than lose people and lose everything. Remember. Sever the tail to survive. When I come back, I want a place to stand."
"Yes! I will defend Sabaody with my life!" Caron dropped to one knee, voice ringing like iron.
Kael nodded and turned to Moria.
"Moria. Leave half your shadow army to Caron. Keep order. Keep defenses up."
"…Understood." Moria pulled himself out of the shock and answered in a low voice.
Finally, Kael's gaze fell on Mihawk and Doflamingo. He lifted a finger, tapping Moria, then Mihawk, then pointing straight at Doflamingo's bloodless face.
"You three. You come with me."
"To… to Mary Geoise?" Doflamingo's voice trembled.
Kael's mouth curved into a cold arc. A hint of amusement flashed through those golden eyes.
"What? Afraid?"
"I…" Doflamingo's body went rigid. That casual question hit like a sledgehammer to his pride.
He snapped his head up, meeting Kael's teasing gaze, and a vicious heat surged up inside him.
Afraid? So what?
Did he even have a choice?
"Fufufufu…" Doflamingo let out a dry laugh. He braced a hand on the table and stood, adjusting his feather coat.
Fear on his face twisted into a sick, feverish excitement.
"What an interesting proposal, Kael-san. I didn't expect this day to come so soon. If you want to play big, then why shouldn't I accompany you to the end?"
He wanted to see with his own eyes how far this man could throw the world into chaos.
He wanted to witness the day those Celestial Dragons, his so-called kin, were dragged down from their altar.
Kael watched their reactions with satisfaction. He rose and walked toward the towering glass windows, gaze fixed on the distant horizon, as if he could pierce the clouds and see the Holy Land sitting atop the Red Line.
"Fisher Tiger has already departed," he said lightly, like it was nothing.
"We can't fall behind."
At the same time, beneath the Red Line.
A small skiff rested quietly on the blue sea. Empty.
Fisher Tiger stood alone on the shore, staring up at that crimson cliff wall that rose like a god's boundary.
It split the world in two.
It separated light from darkness.
His gaze seemed to pierce through ten thousand layers of rock, locking onto the city at the summit.
Mary Geoise.
The nightmare land of countless fish-man brethren.
The end of his journey.
There was no fear in his eyes. No hesitation.
Only flames.
Flames fierce enough to set this false sea ablaze.
Baltigo, Revolutionary Army headquarters.
The council hall was so oppressive it felt hard to breathe.
All commanders were present along both sides of the table. No one spoke.
"The East Army ran into a massive World Government force… almost wiped out…"
"Army Commander Ginny… captured…"
Someone finally broke the silence, voice hoarse and dry.
Bartholomew Kuma's mountain-like body trembled.
The thick Bible he'd been holding slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a dull thud.
He didn't pick it up.
He only lowered his head, fists clenched so hard his joints cracked.
"Ginny and the others were taken to Mary Geoise," the intelligence officer said with difficulty.
"Damn it!" A hot-tempered commander slammed the table, roaring. "Then what are we waiting for? We storm it and bring them back!"
"Calm down!" Another snapped back instantly. "That's Mary Geoise! With our current strength, charging in is suicide. To save a few, you want to bury the entire Revolutionary Army?"
"So we just watch our comrades get turned into playthings by those Celestial Dragon scum…"
"This is for the bigger picture!"
Arguments erupted. The hall devolved into chaos.
Then, as if by instinct, every gaze gathered at the head of the table.
Monkey D. Dragon.
The mysterious tattoo on the left side of his face looked even deeper in the dim light. No one could see his expression under the shadow.
In Dragon's mind, two voices clashed violently.
One was cold and cruelly rational.
The bigger picture comes first. For the revolution's fire to survive, we must endure. Ginny's sacrifice is necessary. You cannot destroy what countless comrades built with blood because of a moment of impulse.
The other voice howled.
Why did we raise the flag in the first place if not to prevent sacrifices like this? If today we abandon comrades for the "bigger picture," then tomorrow we can dissolve the entire Revolutionary Army for the bigger picture.
Balance. Cost. Future. Sacrifice.
Thoughts churned until it felt like his sanity might tear apart.
Then, without warning, a figure intruded into his mind.
A black coat.
Unruly golden eyes.
That lazy posture that treated the world's rules like nothing.
Aaron Kael.
What would that man do?
Dragon didn't even need to think.
He would go.
He would flip Mary Geoise upside down, drag those so-called gods off their throne and grind them beneath his heel, just to bring back the person he wanted.
The "bigger picture"? The costs?
In that man's eyes, perhaps such things never existed at all.
The fog in Dragon's chest was cleaved apart in an instant.
Yes.
When did he become someone who weighed a comrade's life like a piece on a board?
A revolution that can't even save its own people is a joke.
Dragon slowly lifted his head. The struggle and confusion in his eyes melted away, replaced by steel.
"I'll go personally."
His voice wasn't loud, but the entire hall fell silent immediately.
"Ivankov. Kuma."
The two men looked up at once.
"Prepare yourselves. We infiltrate Mary Geoise and bring Ginny back."
Kuma's hollow eyes finally lit with the faintest spark.
Bang.
The council hall doors burst open. An intelligence officer stumbled in, face full of terror and disbelief.
"D-Dragon… sir!!" He gasped, slamming an urgent report onto the table. "Red Line direction… something… something's appeared!"
Dragon picked up the report. After one glance, his pupils shrank sharply.
The officer's voice shook as he forced out the words that made everyone's scalp prickle.
"It's Kael's ship! He… he's secretly bringing people in. His target… is the Holy Land Mary Geoise!"
The last light of sunset gilded the summit of the Red Line in sacred gold.
Mary Geoise, the city standing at the world's peak, looked like a jewel dropped from a god's hand in the dusk.
Pristine white palaces.
Elegant gardens.
Every brick reeked of power.
Its lights blazed. The Celestial Dragons' nightlife was only just beginning.
Inside a hall wide enough to fit an army, a rare white bear fur carpet from the South Blue covered the floor.
The young Saint Charlos lay bored atop a "sofa" made of living people. His bloated body pressed the slaves beneath him until they let out muffled groans of pain, yet none dared move.
"Boring. I'm bored to death, yoi!"
Saint Charlos grabbed a crystal grape and stuffed it into his mouth. He chewed once, then spat it out with a wet sound, purple juice splashing across a female slave's pale face.
"Ptoo! Not sweet enough! Drag them away. Bring a new batch!"
His signature snot still clung near his mouth as he spoke, shrill and spoiled.
Guards stepped forward immediately, expressionless, dragging the trembling slave and the priceless plate of grapes away together.
"Father, I want new toys!" Saint Charlos whined, turning toward the man seated at the head.
Saint Rosward sipped wine, watching the "performance" in the center.
Slaves in collars were forced to crawl like dogs, biting each other to fight over a meat bone thrown on the floor.
Celestial Dragons around them laughed, the sound warped and tinny beneath their glass helmets.
"My dear son, don't rush," Saint Rosward drawled. "A fine batch of 'new stock' arrived today. I hear there's even a Revolutionary among them. Very interesting."
"Oh? A tough one?" Saint Charlos's eyes lit up.
His favorite thing in the world was taking a so-called tough bone and grinding it down piece by piece.
Soon, a new group of slaves was shoved into the hall.
Most were in rags, eyes hollow, faces numb with despair.
But within the crowd, one figure stood out sharply.
A woman with striking short pink hair.
Even in prison clothes, even with Seastone cuffs on her wrists, her back remained straight.
Her face was smeared with grime, but there was no fear in her eyes.
Only a suppressed fire, ready to erupt.
Ginny, the captured commander of the Revolutionary Army's East Forces.
"Ohoho, is that her?" A Celestial Dragon noblewoman fanned herself, studying Ginny with interest. "Just a filthy commoner, but what a fierce look. I like it."
"Bring her out!" Saint Charlos scrambled off his human sofa, excited. He waddled up to Ginny and reached out a fat finger to pinch her cheek.
Ginny snapped her head aside and dodged.
"Hm?" Saint Charlos froze.
The hall's laughter died instantly.
All Celestial Dragons turned their attention to her.
A slave.
Refusing a god's touch.
"Interesting. So interesting, yoi!" Saint Charlos didn't get angry. He got more excited. His fat jiggled as he laughed. "Father! I want to play the 'hunting game' with her!"
"Granted," Saint Rosward said lazily, waving a hand as if deciding something trivial.
Guards rushed forward, ripping Ginny's cuffs off with brute force.
"The rules are simple," one guard said coldly. "Run from here to the white wall at the end of the courtyard. If you survive Saint Charlos's gun, you live one more day."
Ginny didn't answer.
She rolled her bruised wrists, then swept her eyes across the faces behind those helmets.
She saw cruelty. Stupidity. Rot sunk to the bone.
"Run! Run, toy!" Saint Charlos already held a customized pistol.
It was one of their favorite games.
Watching prey run in pain and fear, not dying too quickly, satisfying their sick amusement to the fullest.
Ginny inhaled once. No hesitation.
She turned and sprinted toward the courtyard.
Bang. Bang bang!
Several shots rang out. One bullet caught her in the calf.
Pain ripped through her. She stumbled, nearly falling, but she bit down hard and made no sound, limping forward and forcing herself to keep running.
"Ohohoho! Hit her! Hit her!"
"Go, Charlos-brother!"
Cheers and jeers rose in waves.
Ginny's figure looked tiny in the enormous courtyard.
Behind her, mocking gods.
Ahead of her, the hopeless white wall.
Night grew deeper.
Mary Geoise still sang and danced, lost in its illusion of eternal daylight.
They had no idea that beneath them, deep in the ocean cut off by the Red Line, a storm capable of overturning heaven was quietly gathering.
On the crimson cliff, a towering red fish-man climbed in silence, eyes locked on that "holy" light above.
And on a distant sea, Kael stood at the bow, facing the wind. The sea breeze snapped his coat like a banner.
Behind him, Mihawk wiped down his black blade.
Moria let out a low "kishi" under his breath.
Doflamingo pushed up his sunglasses, wearing a twisted smile laced with fear and fanatic hunger.
In the darkness, the outline of the red continent stood clear as a blade.
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