"Sengoku, it's time."
In the Fleet Admiral's office, Vice Admiral Tsuru, her silver hair tied neatly into a ponytail, spoke softly yet firmly.
Sengoku stopped writing, the tip of his pen hovering over a half-finished document. After a brief pause, he stood, straightening his coat before heading for the door.
"Tsuru," he asked quietly, "do you think… I made the right decision?"
For a moment, the usually unflappable strategist hesitated. It wasn't doubt in Ezra's strength it was the enormity of what this day symbolized.
Tsuru smiled faintly. "Sengoku, let it go. You did the right thing."
Her voice was calm, but there was steel in it. "There are new monsters rising among the pirates like that Marco from the Whitebeard Pirates. If the pirates have young prodigies, then the Marines must have their own. The world must see that justice still has its future."
Her words struck true. Sengoku's eyes softened, the weight on his chest easing just enough for him to smile again.
"You're right… The times are changing, and we're getting old."
He exhaled, his gaze distant. "Let's see what kind of storm this boy will bring."
…
Meanwhile, inside his quarters, Ezra was seated cross-legged on the floor, his sword resting across his knees as he practiced silent meditation a state he called Sword Zen. The faint hum of energy resonated around him like distant flame.
A gentle knock came at the door.
"U-um… Commodore Ezra! Your new uniform has arrived!"
Ezra opened his eyes, his crimson irises gleaming faintly, and rose to open the door.
Standing there was a young woman with soft pink hair that brushed her shoulders. Her expression was a mix of professionalism and nervous excitement.
"Hmm? You're… Tina, right?"
The girl blinked, clearly not expecting him to recognize her. Then, a shy smile broke across her face.
"Ah! Commodore Ezra actually knows who I am? Tina's so happy!"
Ezra chuckled. "Of course I do. The famous beauty of the Marine recruits how could I not?"
Tina's cheeks flushed a light pink, and she fumbled with the uniform in her hands.
"C-Commodore, you really shouldn't say things like that… Tina's embarrassed!"
She handed him the folded uniform, gave a quick salute, and practically fled down the hall in flustered haste.
Ezra watched her go, smiling in amusement. "Cute girl… still a bit clumsy at this stage."
Closing the door, he unfolded the uniform carefully.
"Let's see…"
He slipped into the black pinstripe suit, its fabric tailored perfectly to his frame, the sharp lines accentuating his lean yet powerful build. A pair of polished leather shoes completed the look, and finally, he pulled on his custom dark-red gloves.
In the mirror, the young man who stared back looked nothing short of commanding.
Beneath the tousled black hair, his scarlet eyes glimmered like molten rubies, reflecting both youth and danger.
"Hmm… handsome as ever," he murmured with a grin. "Just like the audience watching this scene, I bet."
Satisfied with his own reflection, he swung on his crisp white Marine coat its back emblazoned with the word Justice and stepped out into the sunlight.
…
By the time he arrived at the main square, the massive courtyard of Marineford was already packed.
Thousands of soldiers stood in orderly ranks, their uniforms gleaming under the midday sun. Anticipation rippled through the air every eye fixed on the stage where two figures stood waiting: Sengoku and Tsuru.
"Everyone, quiet down!" Sengoku's powerful voice echoed across the square, instantly silencing the crowd.
He glanced across the sea of Marines veterans, recruits, and officers alike each of them standing at attention, breath held.
"I know you've all been waiting for this moment," Sengoku said with a hint of pride. "So let's not delay. Ezra D. Vale, step forward!"
A rhythmic clack… clack… clack rang out as Ezra ascended the stage, his polished shoes tapping against the platform.
At six-foot-three, he cut a striking figure. His black pinstripe suit, pristine white justice cloak, and calm, self-assured gaze made him look like the embodiment of discipline and strength.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"So that's him… Ezra D. Vale…"
"The youngest Commodore in Marine history…"
Ezra's expression remained composed. His usual lazy grin was gone today, he was solemn, collected, and proud.
Sengoku nodded approvingly, then fastened the new insignia to Ezra's shoulders the twin stars of a Marine Commodore gleamed under the light.
"From this day forward," Sengoku declared, his voice booming, "you are an official officer of the Navy. You carry the will of justice and the future of the seas."
"Welcome to the family, Commodore Ezra D. Vale."
"OOOHHHHHHHH!!!"
The crowd erupted.
"Commodore Ezra!!"
"Long live the Marines!"
The roar shook the very foundations of Marineford. Cameras flashed wildly as journalists captured every second of the ceremony.
Within hours, the headlines would spread across the world.
…
New World Somewhere on the Grand Line
A colossal ship shaped like a whale sailed steadily through the waves the Moby Dick, the flagship of the Whitebeard Pirates.
"Hmm? The newspaper's early today," murmured Marco, the newly appointed First Division Commander, as a seagull swooped down to drop a rolled paper into his hands.
He tossed the bird a few Berries as payment, then unfolded the front page.
His eyes widened.
[The New Face of Justice!]
[The Youngest Commodore in History!]
[Ezra D. Vale The Navy's Rising Star!]
"Old man! You gotta see this!" Marco shouted, sprinting toward the bow.
Whitebeard was there, sitting cross-legged with a massive jug of sake beside him, the sea breeze tugging at his white mustache.
"Marco," he said in a deep, rumbling voice. "How many times must I tell you not to panic?"
"It's not panic, old man! This is huge!" Marco held up the paper. "The Marines have a new monster!"
Whitebeard took the newspaper, skimming the headline. Then, that thunderous laugh burst from his chest.
"Gurararara! Sengoku, you sly old dog… looks like you found yourself quite the prodigy!"
His eyes narrowed with a mix of curiosity and respect.
"Marco, tell the others to train harder. I won't have my sons falling behind."
Marco grinned confidently. "Hah! Like I'd ever lose to some upstart kid. Next time I see him, I'll knock him flat!"
Whitebeard chuckled again, a deep, knowing sound.
"Careful what you wish for, Marco… the seas are changing."
Little did Marco know, his boast would come back to haunt him again and again in the days to come because every time he met Ezra D. Vale after that… he would lose.
And somewhere, across the four seas, the legend of the Flame Admiral began to smolder, one spark at a time.