The dying glow of the sunset spilled across the decks of the warships, staining the steel in shades of crimson. Marines hurried back and forth, carrying the wounded, the air thick with the mingled scents of blood and saltwater.
"So… it's finally over…"
A tall, powerfully built man stood at the bow. His short purple hair bristled in the wind, his sharp, resolute features carved like stone. Beneath the sleeveless Marine uniform, his muscles were tightly coiled, veins faintly visible beneath tanned skin. A pristine white coat draped over his shoulders, the kanji for Justice snapping sharply in the sea breeze.
This was Vice Admiral Zephyr.
"Vice Admiral Zephyr!!" A Marine hurried forward and handed him a list. "These are the confirmed casualties from the operation."
Zephyr's brow furrowed as his gaze swept across the chaotic deck. Most of the names on the list were already crossed out.
God Valley had been far more brutal than anyone had anticipated.
"…I see. Prepare to withdraw," he said heavily.
"Yes, sir!"
Just as the order was about to be relayed—
"Wait! There's someone still alive!" a Marine shouted, pointing toward the shoreline.
Every head turned.
A lone figure staggered forward from the beach, drenched in blood. A body hung limply over his back.
His Marine uniform was in tatters, but his spine remained straight, as though he were forcing himself to stand through sheer will alone.
Zephyr's pupils narrowed.
"That is…?"
Each step Gern Reginald Sigmar took left a deep imprint in the sand. His breathing was ragged, his face smeared with blood, yet he refused to fall.
Derrick's "corpse" hung over his shoulder, arms dangling lifelessly, swaying with every step.
A murmur spread across the deck.
"Someone actually made it out of that hell…"
"That's Derrick from the West Blue branch… I know him…"
Zephyr strode down the gangway, stopping directly in front of Gern. His gaze was sharp enough to cut steel.
"What happened?" he demanded. "State your name."
"Gern Reginald Sigmar."
As he lifted his head, Gern felt a pressure like a mountain bearing down on him.
So this is Zephyr… the embodiment of justice itself.
Even so, he didn't forget his purpose.
His voice came out hoarse, barely audible."Lieutenant Derrick… he stayed behind to cover my retreat. He was killed by remnants of the Rocks Pirates… Whitebeard…"
Zephyr's brows knitted tighter.
"So that's why you're this late."
Gern said nothing. Instead, he dropped to one knee, his head lowering as if overwhelmed.
"I… I promised him," he choked out. "I promised I'd bring him home…"
The memories surged—years of suffering, despair, and humiliation since his transmigration. The pain was real enough to tear genuine sobs from his chest.
The deck fell silent, broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the hull.
Zephyr glanced down at the casualty list again. His eyes paused.
"Second-class soldier… West Blue Branch?"
"Yes," Gern nodded. "I begged Lieutenant Derrick to bring me. I thought… a real man should see the world, fight on a true battlefield…"
His voice broke.
"I never imagined… I never imagined this would happen…"
Zephyr believed him completely.
Because in the casualty records, Derrick was indeed listed as Gern's beneficiary—and Gern as Derrick's. A bond only sworn by soldiers who trusted each other like family.
Zephyr placed a heavy hand on Gern's shoulder.
"You did well," he said quietly. "The Marines never abandon their own."
Gern's shoulders trembled slightly. His face remained lowered, hiding the faint curl of mockery in his eyes.
"Yes, Vice Admiral."
Around them, hardened soldiers looked on with reddened eyes. To them, Gern was a tragic hero.
Soon, medics covered Derrick's body with a white cloth. When they examined him, one of them froze.
"T-this… his internal organs are completely shattered. But there's barely any external damage!"
He looked up in disbelief. "This looks like damage caused by internal shockwaves."
Zephyr's eyes sharpened."Shockwaves?"
"Yes… consistent with Whitebeard's Devil Fruit."
Zephyr fell silent.
His gaze drifted back to Gern, who still stood there, head lowered in apparent grief.
"…How many young lives are lost every time the World Nobles play their games?" Zephyr muttered bitterly. "A mother raises a child for over twenty years… only for them to die in seconds before monsters like those."
His fist slammed into the railing.
"Record the casualties. Prepare to return."
Night fell.
The warships cut through the dark sea, moonlight trailing like silver behind them.
Gern stood alone at the stern, staring into the black water. Moonlight traced the sharp contours of his face.
Crack.
A faint sound echoed beneath his feet.
The wooden deck beneath his boots splintered in spiderweb patterns.
Gern stared at the vibrating particles, then smirked faintly as the tremors faded.
So… this is power.
Just hours ago, he was a disposable soldier, someone who could be betrayed and erased without consequence.
Now, he could crush a man as easily as an insect.
"This is power… the power to decide fate itself."
His fingers curled. The air hummed faintly.
But this was only the beginning.
A Devil Fruit alone was not enough.
If he wanted to stand at the top of this world—without cheats, systems, or divine blessings—he would have to climb step by step.
First, mastering his ability.
Then… Haki.
His fingers brushed the hilt of the blade wrapped in cloth at his waist.
And his thoughts turned toward one man.
Zephyr.
Of all the figures in the Navy, only he still had the heart to nurture soldiers rather than exploit them.
Sengoku was consumed by politics.Garp chased Roger across the seas.
But Zephyr—the future "Black Arm"—was different.
And if Gern remembered correctly, after God Valley, Zephyr would soon rise to the rank of Admiral.
Earning his trust now would change everything.
"Heh… Black Arm Zephyr," Gern murmured.
He raised his hand, white vibration energy gathering in his palm. The air screamed softly as it fractured.
"So this is what 'justice' really is…"
His fist clenched, light exploding between his fingers.
The waves roared.
The warship vanished into the darkness.
Author's Note (Lore Reference):Zephyr lived to the age of 74.The God Valley Incident occurred 38 years before the current timeline.Thus, during this event, Zephyr was 36 years old.
He joined the Marines at 14, first saw combat at 18, mastered Rokushiki by 28, earned the title "Black Arm" at 34, and officially became an Admiral at 38.