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"What a terrifying energy signature," Kizaru's voice broke the silence. "It's so small… but if unleashed, it could easily destroy Dressrosa."
"Vegapunk and Tom's skills are truly remarkable," Arashi chuckled. After quietly observing the spherical energy source for a moment, he finally looked away.
The blue pearl before him was like a sun compressed a thousandfold. From its core to its surface, endless energy fluctuations shimmered, while impossibly complex fusion reactions unfolded every second.
Looking down, Arashi could clearly see a massive water filtration system—and above it, a specialised power unit that purified the molecular structure of water.
Through a unique process, this purified matter was converted into stable energy, then condensed into the miniature blue sun floating before him.
It was indeed nuclear fusion—but its technology and structure were unlike anything Arashi had ever known in his previous life. Otherworldly nuclear fusion—a fitting name for the technology powering Pluton.
Even without testing, Arashi already understood how fearsome this warship truly was. If it unleashed its full might, it would rival a nuclear weapon in this world.
Every cannon was akin to an intercontinental missile, capable of catastrophic destruction and with its incredible energy conversion speed, its ammunition was virtually limitless.
Terrifying.
Even with his current strength, Arashi couldn't help but feel impressed.
"Borsalino," Arashi called suddenly.
Kizaru, who had been examining another section of the ship, turned his head. "Oh?"
"Do you think this ship could destroy Mary Geoise?" Arashi asked.
Kizaru froze. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his usual smile grew stiff. "You must be joking, sir."
"Mary Geoise sits atop the Red Line. Its size is unimaginable, and it houses a vast number of Celestial Dragons." He hesitated. "Besides… we still don't know the full capabilities of Pluton."
Hearing this, Arashi nodded. "True. Whether it can or not… We'll only know once we try."
With that, he strode out of the cabin and onto the bow, leaning against the railing as he looked down at the flag officers assembled below.
"Issue my Fleet Admiral's order!" His voice thundered across the entire dock. Kizaru appeared silently behind him, his expression grim.
He looked like he wanted to speak, but in the end, he only sighed. He already had an idea of what Arashi was about to do.
"Order all Admirals of the five regions—and every officer of commissioned rank and above—to enter full combat readiness!"
The command struck like a hammer. The powerful voice left everyone present trembling.
"What…?" The flag officers stared in shock at the man before them.
"The final war has begun," Arashi declared with a smile—one that carried a bone-chilling coldness.
Kizaru stood beside him, sighing softly, his expression saying everything: I knew it.
The restoration of Pluton had reignited the Fleet Admiral's long-held ambition. The plan he had nurtured for years was finally in motion.
A dead silence blanketed the inner harbour. After a long, stunned pause, realisation struck the officers like lightning.
World War was about to begin.
Mobilising forces from all five regions could mean only one thing: open war against the World Government. Doubts surfaced—were they truly ready?
But then again… if the Marines weren't ready, was the World Government? No war ever begins when everyone is fully prepared. Wars erupt at unexpected moments.
That very afternoon, an encrypted military order was transmitted from Dressrosa to the other four Marine districts. Within hours, countless elite troops began to assemble.
The Marines of today—bolstered by countless islands and diverse races—were far stronger than when they first entered the New World. Their scale was staggering.
By the first day, fifty thousand elite soldiers had gathered. By the third day, their number exceeded one hundred and fifty thousand.
And on that very day, Arashi took the Thunderer and soared toward the Sky Prison, ten thousand meters above the sea.
"Are you serious about this?" Kizaru asked grimly. "Once these guys are out and unshackled, catching them again won't be easy."
"This is the final battle, Borsalino," Arashi replied, his voice calm but resolute. "And the Sky Prison will be the greatest turning point in this world's history."
He paused, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Even if they do betray us and vanish, I'll take full responsibility… and personally drag them back." His eyes softened slightly. "But deep down… I still trust them."
"Then I hope your trust isn't misplaced," Kizaru sighed.
He understood well—if these prisoners fought on their side, Marine casualties would plummet, and victory would come far easier. But pirates and revolutionaries would always remain wild cards.
Ten minutes later, on the ninth floor of Sky Prison, Sanji's eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Arashi approaching—with Kizaru, Kuma, Kuina, Doflamingo, Smoker, and other top-ranking officers in tow.
The cigarette slipped from his lips, scattering sparks on the cold floor. "Sanji, quick! Show respect!" his colleague hissed, pale with panic.
This lineup was the pinnacle of Marine authority—the men whose words could decide the fate of nations, the very figures every soldier idolised.
Footsteps echoed as the group drew near. "Fleet Admiral, sir!" the patrolling officers shouted, saluting nervously.
Arashi returned the salute, then fixed his gaze on Sanji. The young man stood stiff as a board, the fallen cigarette butt glaringly out of place at his feet.
"Vinsmoke Sanji," Arashi said softly, "as a recruit… you're woefully unqualified."
Sanji's scalp prickled. He didn't dare breathe a word.
"However," Arashi continued, "your presence is required for the meeting. Come with me."
Without another glance, Arashi turned and walked ahead. Sanji hesitated, his expression shifting, then took a deep breath and followed.
Ten thousand meters above Dressrosa, the Sky Prison loomed—a fortress born in the aftermath of the Onigashima War, built to contain the great pirates captured during the twilight of the Pirate Era.
The Blackbeard Pirates. The Beasts Pirates. The Big Mom Pirates. All had been thrown into its depths.
In the past two years, even scattered remnants had been hunted down and imprisoned here—Edward Weevil among them, his recent capture by two Admirals still fresh in public memory.
And it wasn't just pirates. The Revolutionary Army, the Whitebeard remnants, and even the Straw Hat crew had swelled its cells.
Other infamous figures—like Patrick Redfield—remained at large, but compared to this new age, their significance had withered. Many more had abandoned piracy, fading quietly into obscurity.
On the ninth floor, in a vast hall, a single chair stood upon a dais. Along the walls, countless Marines stood rigid, their faces solemn.
"Bring them all in," Arashi ordered as he settled into the chair.
Behind him, Sanji stood among the officers, bewildered. What in the world is happening? The Fleet Admiral himself—here? And with such a lineup of power that could topple nations?
The atmosphere was crushing. Even Kizaru was silent, his face unreadable. The other officers looked grimmer still.
Then came the sound of rattling chains. Sanji's head snapped up—his pupils shrinking at the figure who stepped into view. "That's…!"
Charlotte Katakuri. One of Big Mom's most formidable children.
As Katakuri entered, every high-ranking officer turned their gaze upon him. Arashi, too, raised his eyes—only to glance once and look away, his face calm.
Sanji studied him closely. After the torment of Sky Prison, Katakuri bore dark circles under his eyes; his spirit dulled. Yet, upon seeing the officers present—especially Arashi—he straightened as much as his weary frame allowed.
Soon after, the rest of the Big Mom Pirates' core members arrived: Perospero, Daifuku, Oven, Cracker, Smoothie… even Pudding. They shuffled in with dazed expressions, barely conscious, their feet dragging against the cold steel floor.
It was clear that the relentless cycle of day and night on the ninth floor—seemingly mild yet brutally cruel—had driven them to the brink of exhaustion.
"Heh… heh…"
"The Big Mom Pirates," Arashi chuckled, his voice cutting through the tense silence and drawing the attention of Katakuri and the others.
"Fleet Admiral Arashi," Katakuri said through clenched teeth. "What business do you have, summoning us here?"
"No need to rush," Arashi replied with a faint smile. "Not everyone has arrived yet."
It was obvious this gathering wasn't limited to a single pirate crew. After a brief wait, the clinking of heavy chains signalled the arrival of another group.
"King the Conflagration… one of the All-Stars!"
Katakuri and his men froze in shock, confusion rippling through their ranks. The presence of two former Emperor crews in the same room was enough to unsettle even the most hardened pirates.
Marine dominance was on full display. Soon after, the other two All-Stars—Queen and Jack—were brought in, followed by several Beasts Pirates.
Despite their fatigue, the pirates forced themselves to stay alert, whispering in hushed, tense tones. But no one had answers.
Then came another group, their shackles dragging across the steel floor. Though smaller in number, their arrival froze the room.
"Even them?!"
Kizaru's expression shifted as his eyes flicked toward Arashi. The Fleet Admiral remained unshaken, his calm an unbreakable mask.
Sanji's gaze landed on the man leading the group—a figure with crescent-shaped hair.
Something about him felt oddly familiar, like a shadow of the Red-Haired Emperor himself.
"The God's Knights…" someone muttered.
Sanji felt his blood run cold. He had read enough reports over the past two years to know what that name meant.
The God's Knights were the Celestial Dragons' personal enforcers—a terrifying force led by one of their own.
Saint Figarland Garling slowly raised his head, his eyes locking on Arashi. For a brief moment, something flickered in them before vanishing.
His oversized prison uniform left scars exposed—harsh reminders of the Onigashima War. Though he had survived, his defeat was absolute, his end humiliating.
Then came yet another group.
"It's the Red-Haired Pirates!" someone exclaimed.
"And the World's Greatest Swordsman… Dracule Mihawk!"
Sanji's heart sank. These were legends—names that once shook the seas. For nearly two years, they had vanished, only to reappear now, in chains.
The hall grew heavier with tension. Aside from the Marines, every presence here was a monster—each capable of toppling nations alone.
Shanks' gaze swept the room before settling on Arashi. His eyes narrowed, then curved into a faint smile.
"We meet again, Arashi."
"It's been a while, Shanks," Arashi replied, calm but edged with meaning.
Shanks' smile faded as his eyes darted toward the other pirate crews and the God's Knights. His voice dropped. "You didn't bring us here for idle talk."
"Indeed," Arashi said softly, his expression unreadable.
Moments later, another figure entered—Dragon—flanked by his commanders, Sabo among them.
"Quite the lively gathering," Dragon said with a dry chuckle.
"It's about to get livelier," Arashi replied lightly.
Despite their calm words, the air was suffocating. Old rivals now stood side by side, their fates twisted together by Marine hands.
Sanji stood frozen, his face grim. Before him were the most feared names in history—each one a calamity in its own right and then, the Straw Hat Pirates walked in.
"Luffy! Zoro!" Sanji's voice cracked as his eyes darted to familiar faces.
"Robin! Nami!"
Confusion clouded the Straw Hats' faces as they entered, but their tension broke when Luffy's eyes locked onto the red-haired man across the hall.
"Shanks!" Luffy shouted, his voice bursting with joy.
"Luffy?!" Shanks blinked, his expression hardening as his gaze shifted to Dragon and the others. Clearly, much had changed during his absence.
The room fell silent. The whispers died, replaced by a chilling realisation: this gathering was no coincidence. Something monumental was about to happen.
Soon after, the Whitebeard Pirates appeared, led by Portgas D. Ace, his presence commanding attention.
Behind him came Marco and Vista, their bodies worn, faces marked by fatigue.
"Looks like all the big names are here," Shanks murmured under his breath.
"Which means the Marines are about to make their move," Benn Beckman replied, his tone sharp.
Finally, Arashi rose from his seat. His calm, steady gaze swept across the hall.
"Everyone's here," he said softly. "Then we can begin."
All eyes locked on him. Dragon's expression hardened, and Shanks' jaw clenched as they waited for the truth.
"Just get to the point, Arashi," Shanks said coldly. "Why gather criminals, enemies, and ghosts of the old era in one hall?"
Arashi's faint smile returned. "To go to such lengths to bring you here… of course, there's a reason."
He paused, letting the silence weigh on them before speaking—each word sharp as a blade:
"I have one question. Do you truly wish to rot in this prison for the rest of your lives?"
The hall stirred. Faces hardened. Suspicion and faint hope flickered in countless eyes.
"What do you mean?" Katakuri demanded.
Arashi's voice was calm, resonant. "The Sky Prison stands ten thousand meters above the sea, anchored over the new Marine Headquarters in Dressrosa."
"Guarded by Borsalino and our strongest forces, escape is impossible. Even if the unimaginable happens…"
His tone turned cold. "…I will personally hunt you down and drag you back."
The weight of his words hit like a tidal wave. Cruel, unyielding logic left no room for doubt. In this era, none could challenge the man standing before them.
"But now…" Arashi's voice softened, an eerie smile curling his lips, "…I offer you all—those who have lost everything—a chance."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"A chance to reclaim your freedom… and see the world beyond these walls once more."
Shock lit countless eyes.
"You're going to let us go?!" Jack blurted.
"Naïve," Mihawk said flatly, his voice dripping disdain.
Jack glared, but before he could speak, Arashi's voice sliced through the air.
"Let you go?" Arashi laughed, the sound cold and empty. His eyes locked on Jack like a predator's. "You're quick for someone so slow-witted… but your guess isn't far off."
Gasps spread as Arashi continued, smooth and merciless.
"As long as you agree to one condition… You may walk free."
"What condition?!" Perospero barked, desperation cracking his voice.
The crushing monotony of prison had worn down even the proudest wills. Any price felt worth paying for freedom.
"Become Marines," Arashi said simply.
The hall froze. Silence pressed like iron.
"…What?"
Even Perospero stood dumbstruck. None of them could have imagined this.
"If we join the Marines… we're free?" Katakuri asked, his voice taut with disbelief.
"Correct," Arashi said, nodding with a smile devoid of warmth.
Queen scoffed. "I don't believe for a second you'd do this out of kindness. What's your real game, Fleet Admiral?"
"You're sharp," Arashi said approvingly.
His gaze swept across the hall, lingering on Dragon, Shanks, and Ace, who remained silent but tense. Then he spoke again, his voice like a drumbeat.
"Let me explain the state of the world beyond these walls."
The room fell still. Even the chains ceased their faint clatter.
"The Marines have conquered the entire New World. Upon its seas, we have forged an empire of equality and justice—where all races live side by side, free of prejudice. Prosperity thrives."
He paused, his next words heavy with foreboding.
"At the same time… we have obtained the Ancient Weapon, Pluton."
Shock tore through the room like a storm.
"And today…" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, cutting through the silence like steel. "We have made our final decision."
His eyes blazed as his voice thundered:
"We are declaring war on the World Government."
(T/N: Please give me some power stone, I hope it can at least reach the top 100)
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