The sun bore down upon Marineford like an angry Sea King, casting long shadows from the execution platform that stretched over the plaza below. Beneath it stood thousands of Marines, rows upon rows of white and blue uniforms, their expressions a mix of determination, fear, and resolve as they gazed toward the churning seas.
Atop that platform stood Fleet Admiral Sengoku... or rather, someone else wearing his skin like a borrowed coat.
His breath was deliberate, deep and measured. The weight of his new body, its power, experience, and authority didn't throw him of balance. It grounded him. The mind now inhabiting Sengoku's form took in his surroundings with frightening clarity.
Marineford. The day of the Paramount War. The pivot point of the world.
Somewhere deep inside, the man who once lived in another world: a place of smartphones, internet forums, and armchair strategising, felt something like pure amazement. But it faded quickly into cold analysis, sharper than a sea-stone blade.
He wasn't just Sengoku anymore. Oh no! He was something far more dangerous!
The massive plaza hummed with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. Marines shuffled nervously. High above the bay, the three Admirals lounged on their raised chairs- Aokiji sprawled lazily like he might nod off any second, Kizaru buffing his nails with an absent-minded "Ooooh~", and Akainu sitting ramrod straight, his face carved from volcanic stone.
To Sengoku's left stood Vice Admiral Garp, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, jaw locked tight. Between them, weighed down by sea stone shackles and forced to his knees, was Fire Fist Ace, the man whose bloodline and execution would set the whole world ablaze.
Sengoku's gaze lingered on Ace. The memories, the original Sengoku's, rose unbidden, laden with years of frustration, political compromise, moral fatigue. But the new mind inhabiting this body sifted through them with surgical detachment. He saw the pattern. The warning signs. The strategic threat.
Ace is a trigger. Not the disease.
He turned slightly, eyes sliding to Garp's weathered face. For all his legendary strength, the man who once cornered the Pirate King himself, Garp was a big softie at heart! A relic from days when having mighty fists was enough, without needing the brains to match. A loyal Marine who refused to climb higher up the ladder.
Sengoku's voice, when it came, was even. "You knew about him for years."
Garp didn't answer right away. His jaw clenched.
"I did," he finally grunted.
"And you kept your mouth shut this whole time."
Garp grunted. "Did what I thought was right."
Sengoku's eyes returned to the crowd of Marines before them. "That's the problem with 'right.' Everyone has their own version."
The comment passed without rebuttal, but the silence between them grew colder.
Sengoku stepped forward, letting his arms fold behind his back. The movement was casual, authoritative. Natural. He felt the weight of command settle on his shoulders like armor. The soldiers looked up to him as their guiding star, the unwavering beacon in their chaotic world. In this world of chaos, he was supposed to be the one constant, firm, reliable.
But the old Sengoku was too soft. Too reactive. Too busy playing politics! He gave Garp way too much freedom. Let pirates become legendary heroes in the public eye. Let troublemakers like Straw Hat Luffy become symbols of rebellion!
"NOT ANYMORE!" he thought with iron determination.
"ATTENTION!" Sengoku's voice boomed across the execution plaza, silencing even the nervous whispers among the Marines. "Today, the entire world watches as JUSTICE takes its course!"
He pointed dramatically at the kneeling prisoner. "This man before you... Portgas D. Ace! You know him as Commander of the Second Division of the Whitebeard Pirates! But that is NOT his only crime!"
The Marines stared up in rapt attention. Even Garp's face darkened further.
"I shall reveal to the world his TRUE LINEAGE!" Sengoku declared, his voice thundering. "LISTEN WELL! Portgas D. Ace's mother was Portgas D. Rouge, who performed a miracle and held him in her womb for a full TWENTY MONTHS to hide him from the World Government!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd like waves.
"And his FATHER..." Sengoku's eyes blazed with righteous fury "...was none other than GOLD ROGER himself, THE PIRATE KING!"
The shock hit the crowd! Marines' jaws dropped, some even taking steps backward as if Ace had suddenly become more dangerous just sitting there in chains!
"THAT'S RIGHT!" Sengoku continued, building to his climax. "We searched for that child with everything we had! On that island... in the Baterilla region of the South Blue... we examined EVERY SINGLE newborn, every mother-to-be, and every woman who might be carrying Roger's child!"
He slammed his fist against the railing, making the whole platform shake.
"But his mother, through sheer willpower, hid the truth until Ace was born... at the cost of her own life! And that child grew to hate his father, taking his mother's name instead!"
Sengoku pointed accusingly at Ace, whose head remained bowed.
"He was found and raised by Garp! Yes, OUR OWN Hero of the Marines! But even that couldn't tame the blood of the Pirate King that flows in his veins! He set out to sea and became a fearsome pirate in his own right! Until he met... WHITEBEARD!"
The name hung in the air like a challenge.
"He was offered the chance to become the Pirate King himself... but instead chose to make WHITEBEARD the King! He bears the mark of the Whitebeard Pirates on his back with PRIDE! And now Whitebeard, who calls this criminal his 'son,' is willing to risk EVERYTHING to save him!"
Sengoku's eyes swept across the battlefield, taking in every Marine, every camera, every watching eye across the world.
"THIS is why this execution cannot be stopped! The bloodline of the Pirate King MUST NOT continue! It is a threat to the peace of the ENTIRE WORLD!"
The crowd below reeled from Sengoku's revelation, whispers erupting across the rows of Marine soldiers like ripples in a shaken pond. But up on the raised platform, discipline held firm, if barely.
Vice Admiral Doberman let out a sharp breath through clenched teeth. His eyes narrowed into slits, and his jaw locked tighter than his fists. "The Pirate King's son… right under our noses all this time?" he muttered, as if the idea personally offended him.
Onigumo, ever the zealot for absolute justice, clicked his tongue in disgust. "Should've been strangled in the womb. Mercy's the real crime here."
Momonga didn't speak, but his face betrayed a rare moment of uncertainty. He looked toward Ace, then toward Garp, and back to Sengoku. He'd served the Marines his entire life, followed orders without fail, but this? This felt... personal.
Yamakaji, for once, removed the pipe from his mouth. "Garp… what were you thinking?" he whispered under his breath, his usual half-smile faded into a grim line.
Strawberry turned to Tsuru, voice low and unsure. "Did you know?" he asked. Tsuru said nothing. Her eyes remained on Sengoku, sharp and calculating.
Dalmatian growled softly, his Zoan instincts stirred.
Bastille, behind his iron mask, tensed visibly. "If this boy dies… the world will burn hotter than it did for Roger."
Ronse, silent as ever, simply let out a grunt. But even that, from a man of few words, spoke volumes.
Amid them stood Gion, brows drawn slightly, lips tight in a rare display of discomfort. She gave Tokikake a sideways glance.
"He carries the blood of the Pirate King," she said quietly. "But he doesn't wear it."
Tokikake let out a soft whistle. "A child of fire born from the King of the Sea. The world just got a lot messier."
Not far from them, the Warlords showed varying shades of reaction:
Boa Hancock's lips parted in a silent gasp. It was dread. Portgas D. Ace… that was the man Luffy had sworn to save. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
Dracule Mihawk raised one brow, expression otherwise unchanged. "So… this is the child Shanks wept for," he murmured. "The seas stir for a reason."
Doflamingo burst into gleeful laughter, shoulders shaking with mirth. "Fufufufu! A son of the Pirate King, raised by a Marine Hero, dying for the Yonko he chose to call Father. Delicious irony!"
Moria scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Bah, what does it matter? Bloodlines don't matter when you're dead. The only thing I care about is how many shadows I can pull from this war!"
Kuma said nothing. His lips didn't move, but for those who knew, his silence was more than absence, it was restraint.
Sengoku stood unmoved by their reactions, the storm behind his eyes deepening.
Let them be shocked.Because Ace wasn't just a condemned pirate. He was proof that legends never truly died. Not unless someone killed them completely.