BOOM—!
A terrifying sonic blast exploded beside Lucian Thorn's ears.
The world in his vision stretched and twisted, then blurred into streaks of color retreating rapidly behind him.
He only managed to catch a glimpse of the aged Whitebeard's towering frame below, along with a battle-ravaged island reduced to a wasteland, both shrinking rapidly in his view until they became no more than a tiny black speck.
And then, even that speck was swallowed by endless blue.
This—was the full-speed flight of the Phoenix Marco.
Even most Devil Fruit users couldn't dream of catching up to Marco's speed.
Lucian clung tightly to the warm, jade-like feathers on Marco's back, his whole body nearly torn apart by the terrifying inertia.
The fierce wind was no longer air—it was a barrage of invisible, unbreakable walls slamming into him one after another.
Now he understood why Marco had told him to hold on tight.
At this speed, forget regular people—even a tough Vice Admiral of the Marines would be flung off in an instant and shredded by the high-altitude winds if they slipped up for a moment.
"How're you holding up, kid?"
Marco's voice rang clearly in his ears.
Lucian was stunned to realize that a thin, flickering blue flame surrounded him like a bubble, shielding him from the majority of the lethal wind pressure.
Marco had used the properties of his Blue Flames of Regeneration to create a small protective cocoon around him.
"I-I'm fine!"
Lucian squeezed the words through gritted teeth, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.
He slowly lifted his head, and as he began to adapt to the unbelievable speed, a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle unfolded before his eyes.
They were soaring above the clouds at ten thousand meters.
Below them stretched an endless sea of white, with golden sunlight gilding the edges like a frozen, golden ocean.
Occasionally, gaps in the clouds revealed the vast ocean beneath—like a flawlessly polished sapphire, calmly lying there.
One island after another appeared in their view, only to be left behind in the blink of an eye, like green bullets flying past their eyes.
The distant horizon was no longer a straight line, but curved slightly—evidence of the immense scale of this world.
"Heh... what an exhilarating plan."
Marco's voice carried a hint of emotion.
"But for some reason, I feel fired up now more than ever."
"That's because we're making history, Marco."
Lucian grinned.
"No—we're changing history!"
"Changing history, huh?"
Marco repeated softly, his gaze turning firm and resolute.
"Well said!"
Man and phoenix fell silent.
They became a streak of azure light, defying distance and space, blazing straight toward the first half of the Grand Line.
Meanwhile, aboard the Moby Dick—
The massive figurehead still stood proud, but the deck was filled with an unusual atmosphere—subdued, but tinged with unrest.
Early the next morning.
When the captains discovered that Marco, the 1st Division Commander, and Lucian had vanished overnight, the ship was thrown into commotion.
"Marco's gone?"
"And that kid Lucian too!"
"Where the hell did they go?
Did they run off scared of the upcoming war?"
"No way! Marco would never abandon Pops or his brothers!"
Jozu, the burly 3rd Division Commander, was the first to find Whitebeard, who sat alone on the ship's prow, silently watching the sea.
Worry and confusion were written all over his face.
"Pops, where did Marco and Lucian go?"
"Marco and that kid went to find reinforcements," Whitebeard replied without turning around. His voice was calm, but held an undeniable weight.
Jozu fell silent instantly.
Behind him, Vista, Izo, and the other captains who had hurried over all froze in place, exchanging glances.
Whitebeard slowly turned his massive head, his world-wise eyes sweeping across the sons he trusted most.
"To save Ace... we alone are not enough."
His deep and powerful voice spread across the deck, instantly silencing all chatter.
Reinforcements?
That word stunned all the captains.
With the might and reputation of the Whitebeard Pirates, who in this sea could possibly qualify as "reinforcements"?
"Pops, what kind of reinforcements?"
Vista couldn't hold back and asked, his hands tightening around the hilts of his twin swords.
"Yeah, Pops! Are we not enough?"
"With your command, we could flip the entire Navy Headquarters upside down!"
The crew shouted with passion.
To them, their Pops was the strongest in the world, and their pirate crew was second to none.
"Gurararara!"
Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, but beneath it was a complex emotion his sons couldn't understand—expectation mixed with something deeper.
He knew better than anyone the strength and loyalty of his sons.
But he also knew better than anyone the true nature of their enemy—this war would be catastrophic, the culmination of an entire era's power.
Not to mention... his own body...
"Just trying to make things a little more lively."
Whitebeard casually gave an excuse, a mysterious smile curling on his weathered face.
"As for who we invited..."
He paused, intentionally leaving everyone hanging.
"That's a secret for now."
"When the time comes, you'll all be stunned."
With that, he turned back to the horizon, ignoring the stunned expressions behind him.
The captains exchanged uneasy looks. Though they were full of questions, since Pops had made the call, they would trust him without question.
Still, none of them could have imagined—
The "surprise" their Pops spoke of, the one that would shock them to their cores... would be nothing short of world-shattering.
No one noticed.
After uttering that "secret," Whitebeard's free hand—the one not holding his Naginata—quietly clenched.
Within his aging body, a tyrannical force long suppressed began to stir—like a slumbering volcano slowly awakening.
His gaze seemed to pierce space and time, locking onto that blazing blue streak racing across the edge of the sky.
Rayleigh…
Garp's grandson…
And… the me from my prime…
Gurararara…
Ace.