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His pride, his very nature, would not allow him to back down from a challenge he hadn't even attempted.
If he failed, he would simply try again. Retreat was not in his vocabulary. Even if it was the wrong path, he would see it through to its bitter end.
"Tell me what to do," Arthur repeated, his voice a low command.
"You agree??" Vegapunk looked genuinely surprised.
"To control a fundamental particle of the universe... the difficulty is astronomical. It's a path so far removed from the fruit's obvious applications that you could waste a lifetime and achieve nothing."
"I've already hit the ceiling..." Arthur said flatly. "The old path is a dead end. Whitebeard, Shiki, Redfield, Kaido, Big Mom, myself... we're all just variations on the same theme. We're all trapped at the same level. Why wouldn't I try a new path?"
He had his other plan, the grand hypothesis, but the time for that was not yet here. Why waste the intervening years?
"Good," Vegapunk nodded, his serious, analytical demeanor returning. "Then let us begin with my understanding of electricity."
"First, the principles of natural discharge."
"In nature, lightning is generated in high-altitude cumulonimbus clouds. The tops of these clouds are high, the temperature is low, and ice crystals form. Through processes of friction and fragmentation, a massive electrical charge is generated. The distribution is complex, but generally, the top of the cloud becomes positive, and the bottom becomes negative."
"This creates a potential difference. When that difference reaches a critical point... it discharges. That is lightning."
Vegapunk's tone was that of a professor lecturing a student.
"Nature is wondrous. By understanding it, a man with no power can learn to control it. But Devil Fruits... they are more than wondrous. The Rumble-Rumble Fruit skips the entire process. It doesn't create a charge, it is the charge."
Arthur listened intently. He understood the basics from his old life, but he'd never studied the theory.
"So I'm bypassing the potential difference?? I'm just... creating the electricity itself?"
"Exactly—" Vegapunk said. "All Devil Fruits are powered by the user's stamina. You can control the amperage and the voltage. And since a current is, by definition, the directional movement of free charges, it stands to reason that you can already, instinctively, control the charge."
"Every electron carries a charge, a minuscule one, but it's there. If you can learn to dial back your power, to refine your control to that infinitesimal degree... you can control the charge. And if you can control the charge... you can control the electron."
His explanation was clear, precise, logical...
Arthur just needed to practice. To take his world-shattering power and dial it down, down, down, until it was small enough to touch a single, fundamental particle of reality.
The difficulty was staggering. The charge on a single electron was so small, even Vegapunk lacked the instruments to properly measure it.
'So that's it...' Arthur was mesmerized, a feeling of enlightenment washing over him. He wanted to start. Now.
Vegapunk, sensing his state, backed away from the electron display. "This is your new starting point. When you have truly mastered this... then you will be a true 'God of Thunder.'"
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When a man is truly focused, time ceases to exist.
Arthur returned to Raijin Island. He put all other matters aside and, aided by the island's unique, electricity-infused atmosphere, he dove headfirst into the microscopic world, meditating, practicing, striving to control that single, infinitesimal charge.
Vegapunk, having handed off his other duties, remained at the Thunder God Palace, offering guidance. Jessica, for her part, created new, exotic dishes to keep him fueled, and then simply sat and watched, a quiet guardian of his solitude.
The Thunder God Pirates, following their captain's orders, ceased their wars of expansion and entered a period of consolidation.
For a time, the seas grew quiet.
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One day, a ship breached the storm wall of Raijin Island.
It was a magnificent, domineering vessel, its hull a deep, ominous dragon green. Its length rivaled the Moby Dick. At its bow, a massive, carved dragon's head stared forward, its eyes seeming to challenge the sea itself.
On the deck stood Monkey D. Dragon, his green cloak billowing in the wind, the strange tattoo on his face a stark warning. His eyes were calm as he stared at the thunder-wreathed island.
Behind him stood his chief commanders: Bartholomew Kuma, silent and imposing, clutching his Bible. Ivankov, the Queen of the Okamas, his massive head and garish makeup a bizarre sight—And Inazuma, his face half-white, half-orange, a glass of wine balanced perfectly in his scissor-hands.
The Revolutionary Army. They had come to the heart of their greatest rival.
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On a beach at the edge of the island, a game was in progress.
Arthur sat at a stone table, his eyes closed, his mind lost in the microscopic world. In his palm, a microscopic, barely perceptible arc of lightning sputtered.
Across from him, Redfield, Jessica, and Vegapunk were in the middle of a high-stakes card game, piles of Berries stacked between them.
"Full house," Jessica said, laying her cards down with a grin. "And... one card left."
"Pass," Redfield grunted, looking bored.
"I'll take it," Vegapunk said with a thin smile, laying down a royal flush and sweeping the pot.
As he was raking in his winnings, all four of them stopped, and in perfect unison, turned their heads toward the sea.
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