The next morning dawned bright, a thin haze lingering in the air, and under the gentle sunlight, Marineford seemed like something out of a dream. The entire fortress glowed with life and promise.
White stone paths reflected the light softly, and distant voices echoed with discipline and purpose.
Standing in the small courtyard outside Vice Admiral Tsuru's residence, Atticus surveyed his surroundings with quiet wonder. The air felt sharper, the spiritual energy richer than anything he remembered from his previous life. No wonder people here could become powerful — perhaps Devil Fruits weren't the only path to strength, maybe with proper training even normal people could reach greatness.
The sensation made his blood stir faintly, as if his body itself was responding to the environment.
He glanced at Tsuru, determination lighting his eyes.
"Let's go. I can only lead you through the door. After that, you'll have to rely on yourself."
Atticus nodded sincerely. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."
Tsuru offered a small, enigmatic smile. No one could read her thoughts.
She began walking ahead, explaining as they moved along a broad road. She told him about the Marine Academy, which had existed since the earliest days of the Marines. Its purpose was to cultivate talent, to select obedient enforcers for the might of the World Government.
Her tone was calm, but the meaning behind her words carried unmistakable weight.
"The current principal is Fleet Admiral Kong. Admirals like Sengoku and Zephyr, plus Vice Admiral Garp and others, sometimes serve as instructors. Young man, you will feel proud of this decision before long."
Atticus listened quietly, mentally piecing together the timeline. If Kong was fleet admiral, then Gol D. Roger had not yet become Pirate King. That meant there was still time before the major events unfolded — time he might use to grow strong.
Time was the one resource he could not waste.
They soon reached the academy, a vast campus standing tall in the eastern district. Above its great gates were the bold characters "Marine Academy," a testament to its prestige and the Marines' future ambitions.
The gates alone radiated authority, as though daring the unworthy to step inside.
Tsuru explained the structure. The Academy was divided into three levels: elementary, intermediate, and advanced. If Atticus wanted a voice within the Marines, he would need to aim for the intermediate or advanced level.
Atticus nodded calmly. Strength was the only truth in this world.
They entered the grounds just as a rough, familiar voice called out.
"Yo! Isn't that little Tsuru? What brings you to the academy today?"
A middle-aged man ambled over, casually picking his nose. It was Garp. Atticus froze for a moment — the reputation of the man before him was legendary. If he could receive even a fraction of his attention...
The pressure Garp gave off was not refined, but it was overwhelming in its own way.
Beside Garp stood a young man whose presence struck Atticus instantly. His composed, icy aura contrasted sharply with the heat simmering within Atticus.
"Aokiji?" Atticus realized. The young man's calm eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment Atticus felt a jolt of excitement. If he trained under someone like him...
Garp glanced from Aokiji to Tsuru, then toward Atticus. "So this is the fellow?" He smirked. "I picked up an amazing youth on the journey. Brought him here to train." His gaze landed on Atticus, and his tone changed to one of mild surprise. "Hey... when did you wake up, kid?"
Tsuru rolled her eyes, then nodded toward Atticus. "Your real savior should be this old geezer," she said. "He snatched you from Golden Lion's hands."
Atticus stepped forward without hesitation, bowing respectfully. "Thank you very much for saving my life."
Garp laughed heartily, slapping Atticus on the shoulder so hard that the young man nearly staggered. Pain and shock ran through him, but he caught himself and steadied his posture.
Noting Atticus's reaction, Garp grinned. "Not bad, not bad," he said. Then he gestured to Aokiji. "You two should get to know each other. Comrades from now on."
Aokiji stepped forward, extending his hand in greeting. Despite his calm, Atticus sensed caution — the young man's sharp eyes studied him intently, as if weighing his worth.
Atticus matched the gesture.
As their hands met, an electric chill surged from Aokiji, while intense heat radiated from Atticus's body.
The ground beneath them cracked under the sudden temperature extremes. Ice formed in swirling patterns, and white mist rose as heat waves collided with cold air — red and white clashing, two opposing forces in balance.
Garp watched with excitement. "Little Tsuru, where did you find such a monster? Is he a Logia-type user?"
Tsuru shook her head. "Not Logia. Ancient Zoan- Phoenix." She studied the scene without blinking, thinking that the flames' intensity rivaled that of known Logia users.
(That's what he told her, his fruit is a Mythical Zoan.)
"Phoenix?" Garp muttered, skeptical. "Never hear of it."
Tsuru only sighed. "Devil Fruits are weird, unpredictable. Who knows what strange types or ancient powers still exist?"
Garp laughed, rubbing his chin. "True. This is becoming more interesting by the minute. I want to see what sparks fly between Akainu, Kizaru, and these two kids during training. Too bad my boy is off on a mission." He glanced in the distance. "Has Dragon returned yet?"
Tsuru frowned slightly but didn't reply.
Aokiji let go of Atticus's hand. He was calm, serious. "You're strong," he said quietly.
Atticus returned the steady look. "You're not bad either. If we fought seriously right now, I might still lose."
Aokiji shrugged with mild amusement. "Perhaps."
Atticus was aware of the truth: even fully transforming into the Great Sun Golden Crow would not guarantee victory over someone like Aokiji. He lacked experience, and his transformations were still unrefined.
Garp slapped his hands together loudly. "Good, good! Let's go to the academy proper. Let Fleet Admiral Kong, Sengoku, Zephyr and the others see the surprise I brought."
As they walked — Aokiji, Atticus, Tsuru, and Garp — the young men felt soreness spreading through their shoulders from Garp's rough greeting.
Their irritation flared when Garp, in record insensitivity, resumed picking his nose, then casually wiped his fingers on their clothes, leaving smudges for them to find later.
At once, both Atticus and Aokiji activated their abilities.
"Flame Pulse." Atticus crossed his arms, and compressed flames rippled outward in a scorching wave.
"Ice Blade." Aokiji summoned a blade of ice that cut through the air with a crisp edge.
Heat met cold. Flames roared, frost clenched, the ground shook as rocks and dust spiraled around them. Sand and stone flew, the air trembled; chaos erupted in an instant.
Garp roared with laughter. "Alright, so you two want a short lesson in pain! I'll give it to you!"
But the clash ended as quickly as it began. In mere moments, both Atticus and Aokiji collapsed heavily to the ground, bruised and battered, their energy spent.
Lying there, Atticus closed his eyes tightly, teeth clenched. He felt the gap between himself and those who had real power — the pain, the defeat — and it stung deep. He swore inwardly to climb higher, grow stronger than Garp, stronger than anyone.
Garp smirked as he helped them sit up. "If you're not dead yet, get up. We're heading to see the Fleet Admiral and the rest. I'm guessing they got wind of this little show."
Atticus nodded, pushing himself up slowly. He moved to Aokiji and offered a hand. Thanks to the recovery boost from his Zoan fruit, he stood with only minor difficulty; Aokiji was slower to gather himself, but in time he sat up too.
Aokiji rubbed his head, giving a dry, rueful laugh. "This feeling... isn't good."
Atticus watched him, expression steady. "No matter. If I can become stronger, I'll give everything I have."
And with that, he followed Garp and Tsuru toward the central halls of the Academy, each step heavy but firm.
Aokiji watched him go, muttering softly, "What a terrifying man…"
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