The Marine warship crossed the final wave to reveal a scene of destruction. Debris from the World Government transport floated across the water's surface, splintered wood, twisted metal, and the unmistakable signs of catastrophic damage. At the center of the wreckage, the Groseade sat like a predator beside its kill, smoke still rising from its recently fired cannons.
Admiral Kizaru stood at the bow of his vessel, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the scene with characteristic nonchalance. Despite the destruction before them, his expression remained maddeningly calm, as if witnessing the aftermath of a mere training exercise rather than wholesale slaughter.
"Oh my," he drawled, his voice carrying across the bridge with that distinctive lazy tone. "It seems we're a bit late for the party. How troublesome."
The wind carried the acrid scent of gunpowder and burning wood across the water.
Behind him, the ship's intelligence officer approached with urgent reports clutched in his hands. Lieutenant Commander Hayes, a sharp-eyed analyst who had been tracking World's movements since his escape from Impel Down, cleared his throat nervously before speaking.
"Admiral, we've confirmed the transport was carrying critical supplies to Mariejois," Hayes reported, his voice tight with concern. "Medical equipment, rare materials from Fish-Man Island, and several high-ranking officials returning from diplomatic missions. The casualty count is estimated at over two hundred personnel."
From the ship's communication center, Sentomaru's distinctive voice boomed across the deck with the authority of someone accustomed to commanding lethal weapons. "Pacifista deployment ready, Admiral! PX-1 through PX-5 are armed and awaiting orders! Energy cores at maximum capacity!"
The Science Unit captain's massive frame filled the doorway as he emerged onto the deck, his traditional Japanese clothing somehow managing to accommodate his imposing physique without restricting his movement.
The sumo-styled outfit, combined with his fierce expression, created an intimidating presence that commanded immediate respect from every Marine present.
Behind him, five towering figures stood in perfect formation; the Pacifistas, their Bartholomew Kuma-based appearances creating an unsettling uniformity as they awaited activation. Each cyborg's artificial eyes glowed with a faint yellow light, and the subtle mechanical sounds of their internal systems created an ominous harmony of whirs and clicks. Their identical faces, modeled after the former Warlord, stared forward with emotionless precision.
Vice Admiral Strawberry stepped forward, his distinctive facial hair bristling with indignation as he consulted the tactical display on his portable screen. "Admiral, the Groseade is maintaining position. They're not attempting to flee, it's almost as if they're waiting for us. There is increased activity on the deck."
Kizaru's lips curved into the faintest approximation of a smile, though whether it indicated amusement or anticipation remained unclear. "How considerate of them. It would be rude to keep them waiting any longer, wouldn't it? After all, punctuality is such an important virtue."
Through the bridge's powerful telescopes, they could see figures moving on the enemy ship's deck with purposeful urgency. Byrnndi World stood prominently at the bow, gleaming in the sunlight as he gestured to his crew with commanding authority.
Even at this distance, his commanding presence was unmistakable, this was a man who had once terrorized the Grand Line and clearly intended to do so again. His crew, a mixture of hardened criminals and desperate men seeking fortune, moved with the efficiency of those who knew their captain's reputation for brutality toward failure.
"Distance to target?" Kizaru inquired lazily, though his posture subtly shifted into something more combat-ready.
"Eight hundred meters and closing, Admiral," the navigation officer reported, sweat beading on his forehead despite the ocean breeze. "Within effective range for both conventional artillery and Pacifista deployment. Current wind speed and direction favor our approach."
"Excellent." Kizaru stepped to the railing, particles of light beginning to dance around his form like captured starlight, creating an aurora effect that reflected off every surface nearby. "Strawberry, take command of the ship. Sentomaru, prepare your Pacifistas for immediate deployment. Coordinate with our gunnery crews, I suspect we'll need supporting fire before this is over."
The officers nodded grimly, each understanding their role in the coming engagement. They'd worked together before, their combined experience creating a seamless tactical unit that had proven effective against even the most dangerous pirates. The coordination between them spoke of countless battles fought side by side.
As Kizaru's form began to shimmer with increasing intensity, the air around him growing warm from the energy buildup, Strawberry stepped forward with tactical concerns.
"Admiral, what are your rules of engagement? The Fleet Admiral wants World alive, but his crew poses a significant threat to civilian shipping lanes if they escape."
Kizaru paused, his usual lazy expression taking on a harder edge that transformed his entire demeanor. "Byrnndi World is to be taken alive for questioning. His knowledge of the old era could prove... illuminating. His crew..." The admiral shrugged dismissively, his gesture somehow managing to convey both casual indifference and absolute lethality. "Use your judgment. Pirates who massacre government personnel have made their choice."
Before anyone could respond, Kizaru's form exploded into pure light, streaking across the water at incomprehensible speed. The beam of energy arced through the air like a golden comet trailing particles of radiance, covering the distance between ships in milliseconds before reforming on the Groseade's deck with a flash that temporarily blinded several pirates.
The transformation from light to flesh happened instantaneously, Kizaru's tall form materializing among World's crew with his hands casually tucked into his pockets as if he'd simply stepped through a doorway.
Several pirates who had been preparing weapons stumbled backward in shock, their minds struggling to process the Admiral's sudden appearance. The temperature on deck rose noticeably from the residual energy of his transformation.
"Good afternoon," Kizaru said pleasantly, as if he'd just arrived for a social visit rather than boarding an enemy vessel. "I hope you don't mind the unannounced arrival. You know how it is with official business, so many appointments, so little time."
The first pirate to recover from his shock reached for his pistol with trembling hands, but Kizaru's finger was already pointing in his direction with casual precision. A beam of concentrated light, no thicker than a pencil but containing devastating power, pierced the man's chest before he could complete his draw. The pirate collapsed without a sound, smoke rising from the perfect circular wound that had cauterized instantly.
"Tsk, tsk," Kizaru clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head with mock sadness. "Such poor manners. Didn't your mother teach you not to point weapons at guests? I'm quite disappointed in your hospitality."
Chaos erupted across the deck as World's crew finally processed the threat in their midst. Pirates scattered in all directions, some diving for cover behind the ship's various structures while others attempted to bring their weapons to bear on the Admiral.
Their shouts of alarm mixed with the sound of boots on wooden planks and the metallic clicking of weapons being readied. Their efforts proved futile against Kizaru's overwhelming speed and precision.
Light beams flashed across the deck with mechanical regularity, each one finding its target with surgical accuracy that spoke of years of combat experience. Pirates fell one after another, their screams cut short by the deadly efficiency of Kizaru's attacks. Within seconds, a dozen men lay motionless on the blood-stained planks, their weapons scattered uselessly around them.
"MARINE BASTARD!" Byrnndi World's voice boomed across the deck. "So they finally send someone worth my attention, an Admiral! Thirty years I've waited for this moment!"
World stood at the ship's center, his crew's terror and death meaning nothing to him beyond the tactical disadvantage it represented. His cold eyes, hardened by decades of imprisonment and burning with the desire for revenge, assessed the Admiral with the calculating gaze of a predator evaluating a rival threat. The muscles of his arm flexed with deadly purpose, a testament to his determination to reclaim his place as one of the Grand Line's most feared powers.
"Oh my," Kizaru replied, his tone remaining infuriatingly casual despite the violence surrounding them, particles of light still dancing around his form. "Byrnndi World, the famous World Destroyer. You know, I was beginning to think you were just a legend. How disappointing to discover you're merely another aging pirate with delusions of relevance."
World's scarred face twisted with rage, but his voice remained controlled, speaking to the iron discipline that had allowed him to survive three decades of imprisonment. "Thirty years in hell taught me patience, Admiral. Today, you'll learn what real power looks like."
World's arm extended toward the ship's primary cannon, his Devil Fruit power activating with visible distortion in the air around him. The atmosphere itself seemed to bend and warp as his ability took hold. "More More, Size Enhancement!"
The cannon shell, already loaded and primed for firing, began to grow at an exponential rate. What had been a standard artillery round became a projectile the size of a small building, its metal surface gleaming with destructive potential. The transformation continued until the shell dwarfed everything around it, a monument to World's multiplicative abilities that defied the natural order of physics.
"Fire!" World commanded, and the massive cannon erupted with a sound like thunder that shook both ships.
The enhanced projectile streaked toward the Marine warship with devastating velocity, its size and speed creating a whistling roar that echoed across the water and sent seabirds fleeing in terror. At normal proportions, such a shell would have been formidable; magnified by World's power, it possessed the destructive capability to sink even the largest vessels.
Aboard the Marine ship, Sentomaru's voice cut through the chaos with practiced authority, his commands carrying across the deck with military precision. "All Pacifistas, defensive formation! Target the incoming projectile, coordinated laser barrage!"
The five cyborg weapons stepped forward in perfect synchronization, their movements mechanical yet fluid, each step calculated for maximum stability and firing accuracy. Each Pacifista raised its hands, palms opening to reveal the complex machinery that generated their primary weapons. Energy began to build within their systems, creating a high-pitched whine that signaled impending discharge.
"PX-1 through PX-5," Sentomaru continued, his voice carrying the weight of absolute command, "fire!"
Five beams of concentrated energy lanced out simultaneously, their combined power creating a web of destructive force that met World's enhanced projectile head-on. The collision generated a massive explosion that lit up the sky, shockwaves rippling outward from the point of impact as metal and energy contested for dominance.
The flash was visible for miles, and the thunder of the impact rolled across the ocean.
The enhanced shell, despite its enormous size and velocity, couldn't withstand the concentrated firepower of five Pacifistas working in concert. It disintegrated in a spectacular display of light and force, fragments raining down into the ocean as harmless debris, creating splashes that rose like geysers around both ships.
"Impressive," World acknowledged, though his expression showed no surprise at the defensive success. "The World Government's new toys have some bite. But one shell was merely a test, marine. A way to measure your capabilities."
He gestured toward his ship's remaining cannons, his Devil Fruit power activating once more with even greater intensity. "Let's see how they handle a proper barrage."
Multiple cannon shells began expanding simultaneously, each one growing to tremendous proportions under World's influence. The Groseade's deck groaned under the weight of the enhanced ammunition, but the ship's reinforced structure, modified specifically to handle World's powers, held firm. Within moments, a dozen building-sized projectiles were ready for launch, each one capable of devastating destruction.
Kizaru, still standing among the corpses of World's crew, observed the display with mild interest, his hands remaining casually in his pockets. "My, my. Such impressive firepower. It's almost enough to make me take this seriously."
Light began to coalesce around the Admiral's form once more, particles of energy dancing across his skin. The temperature on deck rose noticeably as Kizaru's power prepared to manifest in its full destructive glory, and the very air began to shimmer with heat distortion.
"Unfortunately for you," Kizaru continued, his lazy drawl taking on an edge of genuine menace that transformed the atmosphere entirely, "light travels faster than anything your cannons can produce. And I've been looking forward to some exercise."
The standoff had reached its critical moment. On one side, the World Destroyer with his multiplicative powers and arsenal of enhanced weaponry, backed by decades of hatred and the desperate fury of a man with nothing left to lose. On the other, the Admiral of Light with speed that defied comprehension and destructive capability that had earned him his rank among the Marines' most feared officers.
Between them, the wreckage of the World Government transport served as a grim reminder of what was at stake, not just this battle, but the larger struggle for control over the post-Marineford world order.
Lieutenant Commander Hayes' voice crackled over the ship's communication system as he coordinated with the bridge crew: "All hands, prepare for evasive maneuvers."