Even Whitebeard, a man who had faced down the entire world, felt a tremor of fear at the sight of that destructive force.
But through that fear, his strategic mind saw the truth.
"They're bluffing," he growled. "If the Marines are willing to use a weapon that will destroy their own holy land, it means they have nothing left! They've reached their limit!"
But unlike the veterans who were weighing their options, Douglas Bullet was consumed by pure, primal terror.
He looked up at the falling missiles, and his expression twisted into a mask of horror.
He was the only one on the battlefield who had actually survived a direct hit from a Nuclear.
The memory of that searing, all-consuming power was a scar on his soul.
It had taken him a month of recovery, and he still wasn't the same.
His three Devil Fruits had been useless against it then, and they would be useless now.
Without a second's hesitation, he turned and fled.
Seeing a monster like Bullet running for his life sent a wave of panic through the pirate ranks.
The other commanders, sensing the absolute and inescapable doom contained in the missiles, needed no further convincing.
A silent, tacit agreement was reached.
They abandoned the attack, the glory, the victory, and sprinted for their lives.
The only thought in their minds was to escape.
Get off this cursed island.
As long as they could outrun the blast, they would be safe.
The Marines, knowing full well that the weapon did not distinguish between friend or foe, were already in a full-scale evacuation.
In a bizarre twist, both armies were now united in a desperate, frantic retreat.
....
Meanwhile, in a top-secret laboratory deep beneath Mariejois, Garp and Sengoku stood guard on either side of a reinforced door.
"Hey, Sengoku," Garp said, stuffing his face with rice crackers.
"How's the kid doing in there? Any progress?"
Sengoku peered through the small viewport in the door, his eyes filled with a desperate hope.
"The entire world is fighting and dying to buy him this precious time," he said quietly.
"We have to believe in him. He's all we have left."
Inside the lab, Leon, his hair a chaotic mess like a bird's nest, suddenly threw his hands in the air with a triumphant shout.
In his hand, he held a vial of dark green reagent that shimmered under the laboratory lights.
"Success!" he cried. "I've cracked it!"
He immediately administered a drop of the liquid to a small white rabbit in a cage.
The rabbit, which had eaten the Rabbit-Rabbit Zoan Fruit, instantly shimmered and transformed back into an ordinary, non-powered animal.
It had worked.
The fruit's power was sealed.
This meant the Marines now had a way to fight back.
Without a moment's pause, Leon transmitted the completed formula and a message of his success directly to the Five Elders.
...
In the highest chamber of Pangaea Castle, the atmosphere was grim.
"Was it truly necessary to use all three of our remaining nuclear missiles?" the white-haired Elder asked, his voice heavy.
"We had no other choice," the blond Elder replied with a helpless sigh.
"Without their Devil Fruits, our forces are finished. Our only hope is that Dr. Leon can develop a countermeasure in time."
"So we sacrificed our ultimate deterrent," the bald, sword-wielding Elder stated, his voice laced with disbelief, "all to buy the boy a few more minutes?"
"That is the reality of our situation, yes."
A wave of powerlessness washed over the five most powerful men in the world.
They had bet the fate of their eight-hundred-year dynasty on the genius of a ten-year-old child.
Just then, the special Den Den Mushi connected to Leon's lab opened its eyes.
"The formula is complete," Leon's calm voice announced. "I have sent it to all relevant Marine departments. I suggest you begin mass production immediately."
The Five Elders shot to their feet, their faces lit with ecstatic relief.
The blond Elder slammed his fist on the table in triumph.
"He did it! He actually did it! We can finally seal their powers too!"
"As expected of Dr. Leon! He is the key to our survival!"
"Excellent! Issue the order! Every department in the entire World Government is to give Dr. Leon's production efforts their full and unconditional cooperation!"
As the highest order in the world was issued, the colossal machine of the World Government roared to life.
But Leon wasn't resting on his laurels.
In his lab, dozens of other critical projects were nearing completion.
In front of him, the azure blue eyes of a unique suit of red and gold armor lit up.
"The prototype is ready," Leon murmured to himself.
"Contact my brother. It's time for him to come over."
Beside the armor, in three large cultivation tubes, three brand-new, even more advanced Adamantium Seraphim opened their eyes.
Leon wasn't interested in restoring the balance of power.
He was going to ensure the Marines reigned supreme.
....
Back on the battlefield, the fleeing pirates looked up at the sky in horror.
A churning mass of dark clouds had gathered around the three falling missiles, blanketing the sky and blotting out the sun.
The Nuclears had reached their optimal detonation altitude.
The terrifying, world-tearing energy within them pulsed, pressing down on the hearts of every living thing for miles around.
The end had arrived.
"AHHHH!"
"Help us... please!"
Panic and horror ripped through the pirate armada.
"My lords, save us! We don't want to die here!"
"Captain Rocks, help!"
The rank-and-file pirates screamed for their leaders, but their pleas fell on deaf ears.
Rocks, the Golden Lion, and the other great pirates had already fled to the absolute edge of the battlefield without a moment's hesitation.
They had no intention of risking their own lives for cannon fodder.
"Are you kidding me?" Kaido sneered as he flew away at top speed.
"Like I'd die for a bunch of weaklings!"
Watching the legends they had admired abandon them to their fate, the remaining pirates finally understood the cold, hard truth.
They weren't comrades.
They weren't even soldiers.
They were just pawns, ants to be discarded at a whim.
From a safe distance, Rocks and the others watched as the three Nuclear slammed into the center of the battlefield.
BOOOOOOM!
There was no sound at first, only a silent, blinding flash of white that bleached the world of all color.
Then came the shockwave, a physical wall of force that tore space itself apart.
A wave of unimaginable heat followed, incinerating everything in its path, turning the very bedrock of the Red Line to ash.
Three colossal, smoking craters were carved into the holy continent, scarring it forever.
A mushroom cloud of dust and debris rose into the sky, a grim monument to the thousands of pirates who had been erased from existence.
Even from miles away, the sheer power of the blast made Rocks's scalp tingle.
If they hadn't retreated, they would all be dead.
There was no blocking that.
Not even with the power of three Devil Fruits.
"So," Shanks said quietly, breaking the stunned silence.
"The Marines used their ultimate weapon... just to push us back to the edge of the battlefield?"
The question hung in the air.
It didn't make sense.
To use such a powerful, self-destructive weapon for such a minor tactical gain seemed insane.
"If that's their plan, the price they paid is far too high," Whitebeard added, his eyes narrowed in thought.
"Tch! It's a scare tactic, nothing more!" Bullet spat with contempt.
"They think that just because they made a big bang, we'll run away with our tails between our legs! Idiots!"
Rocks agreed with Bullet.
The Marines had played their final, desperate card.
They had bought themselves a measly ten minutes.
And what could possibly change in ten minutes? Could the remnants of their shattered army magically reverse their fate? It was laughable.
"Enough talk," Rocks commanded, striding forward into the still-smoldering wasteland.
"They've shot their bolt. Now, we finish this."
At his command, the great pirates charged once more.
Shanks transformed into a crimson bird, Kaido a colossal azure dragon, Big Mom rode her thundercloud Prometheus, and the Golden Lion soared forward on a massive floating warship.
The legends of the sea descended upon the ruins of the battlefield like vengeful gods.
On the other side, the remaining Marine forces felt a wave of profound depression wash over them.
Their enemy was just too strong.
Akainu was critically injured.
Aokiji was on the brink of death.
Ryokugyu and Fujitora were unconscious.
The only one left with any real power, Kizaru, had been recalled to the rear ten minutes ago.
There was no one left on the front lines who could stand against even one of the monsters charging toward them.
"It's... it's impossible, Vice Admiral Onigumo!" a young Marine recruit stammered, his body trembling.
"We can't fight them! We have no chance!"
Vice Admiral Onigumo, his eight-limbed spider tattoo seeming to bristle on his back, slowly turned to face the boy.
His eyes were hard as flint.
"I know you're scared, recruit," he said, his voice a low growl. "But we are Marines! If we run, if we surrender, who will be left to stop these animals from burning, killing, and looting their way across the world? Who will protect the innocent people who depend on us?!"
He drew his swords, his voice rising to a defiant roar.
"WHO WILL UPHOLD JUSTICE IN THIS WORLD?!"
His words cut through the despair like a lightning bolt.
The fear on the young recruit's face was replaced by a grim, tear-streaked resolve.
"The Marines... must win!" he screamed, raising his own rifle.
A grim smile touched Onigumo's lips.
"Then there's no more time for hesitation," he shouted, turning to face the oncoming storm.
"We fight for every second, for every inch of ground! We may die here today, but we will die as Marines!"
With a final war cry, the veteran Vice Admiral took his place at the front, a living embodiment of the eagle standard on his back.
"Vice Admiral!" the recruit cried out, taking his place beside him.
Inspired by their courage, the remaining Marines—hundreds against thousands—formed a thin, desperate human wall.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, a tiny bastion of order against an overwhelming tide of chaos.
They all knew the truth.
Their strongest commander, Vice Admiral Onigumo, wouldn't last a single blow against an Emperor.
But they stood their ground anyway.