"Navy."
"Pirates."
"World Government."
"Even the Celestial Dragons."
"Everything must submit to the power of God!"
Under Gild Tesoro's furious and ambitious roar, the golden giant raised his arms toward the heavens. With a single sweeping motion, he stirred the very air itself.
A violent gale surged across the battlefield, roaring like a storm as though the sky itself were bowing to his will.
"You are no exception!"
The declaration was thunderous, domineering, the cry of a man who wished to rewrite the order of the seas. His golden arms gleamed as armor solidified around them, bursting with dazzling brilliance as though burning with an immortal flame. Then, with terrifying weight, the golden giant clenched his fists. A blazing radiance ignited, like molten fire condensed into divine metal.
"Golden Karma Fire!"
The giant fist descended. Its momentum was monstrous—an earth-shattering strike that could crush mountains and split the sea. This was no ordinary blow; it was Tesoro's very dream embodied.
His defiance against the Celestial Dragons. His ambition to seize their throne. His vision of a god born not from blood, but from wealth and hatred.
Yet Rosen did not move. He stood calm, unmoved, his dark coat swaying only slightly in the gusts stirred by the golden colossus.
No Susanoo surrounded him. No fruit ability crackled at his side. He simply watched the giant fist descend, the weight of a mountain poised to annihilate him.
At the final instant, Rosen lifted his hand. Two fingers rose. He snapped.
Bang!
The collision of finger and fist unleashed a brilliance that blinded the sky. For a heartbeat the heavens turned gold, the earth drowned in light. Then the force exploded outward, a shockwave rolling in all directions, scattering rock, soil, and trees like fragile leaves.
The very island quaked under the strain, its surface rippling as though it were water under the lash of a storm.
When the dust began to settle, the truth emerged.
The golden titan, towering and immense, still loomed above. His gigantic fist remained poised above the ground, trembling with halted momentum. It hung there, a mountain suspended by a thread, never descending that final four meters to strike the earth.
"Move!" Tesoro's roar shook the confines of his golden prison. "Move, damn it! Why can't I bring it down?"
In the silence that followed, the truth burned into his soul. His golden flame, his awakened might, the posture of a god himself—everything had been checked by a single finger.
Rosen's voice cut through like steel. "God?" He tilted his head upward, his eyes cold and sharp. "You call yourself that so easily. Arrogance without foundation is nothing more than noise."
From his fingertip burst a violent purple light, condensing into a radiant cross. The energy flared and released in a thunderous blast.
Boom!
The golden giant reeled as though struck head-on by a Sea King of unimaginable size.
His massive body staggered backward, colossal feet tearing trenches into the ground. Tesoro's titanic form crashed into the central mountain of the island, collapsing stone as if it were mere sand, before finally halting, battered and gasping.
"This… this can't be!" His voice cracked across the battlefield.
"This fist carries the power to topple the Celestial Dragons! This is the authority of a god! How could it be brushed aside like nothing?!"
Rosen's reply was cold and merciless. "Be silent."
The words were not shouted, yet they fell with the weight of an executioner's blade. The very air stilled. Tesoro's roars, his thunderous cries of disbelief, were cut short. The island itself seemed to bow under Rosen's presence.
Tesoro's golden visage contorted. His disbelief was carved into his features, but no denial could change the truth.
He had been broken with the same ease as all who stood before this man.
"It's difficult to accept," Rosen continued, his voice low, carrying finality.
"Then allow me to show you more. After this, you may understand that your so-called godhood amounts to nothing."
He extended his hand. From the air itself, steel coalesced. A Zanpakutō materialized, dark blade gleaming as he leveled it at the fallen golden giant.
"Block it," Rosen whispered, voice resonant as a tolling bell,
The atmosphere shattered.
From Rosen's body erupted an overwhelming storm of Haki. It burst outward like magma breaking free from a volcano, a torrent that seared the heavens. The sky, once clear, darkened in an instant. Clouds twisted into a suffocating mass of dark green, churning as if the sea itself had been pulled into the heavens.
Crash.
From the bloated heavens came rain—cold, endless, merciless. Sheets of water poured down, veiling the battlefield in a curtain that erased horizon and earth alike.
Thunder bellowed.
Boom!
From the blackened clouds split jagged streaks of crimson-black lightning, arcing through the storm with fury. They fell like divine punishment, rattling the island with each strike.
Tesoro, towering though he was, found his golden armor crumbling beneath the deluge. His godlike form groaned and cracked. His knees buckled, sinking under the crushing weight of Rosen's unleashed will.
Finally, with a thunderous crash, the Golden Emperor was forced down onto one knee.
The earth splintered beneath him, exploding into dust.
Even Donquixote Doflamingo, standing aloof at the edge of the battlefield, was not spared. Though his innate Haki allowed him to endure better than Tesoro, the pressure still tore at his body, forcing his threads to twitch defensively.
His grin tightened, though his pride remained intact.
"This pressure…" he muttered. His eyes turned skyward, where the clouds writhed, dyed a deep green by Rosen's will. Lightning fell again, illuminating the rain-soaked battlefield.
"Can this even be called Haki? This storm… it is too vast, too crushing. Is this still man's will, or is it nature itself bending before him?"
Rosen's presence filled every inch of the island. The downpour, the lightning, the oppressive air—it was not weather, not chance, but the embodiment of his Conqueror's Haki unleashed without restraint.
He had colored the sky.
He had summoned the rain.
He had bound the earth beneath his will.
And all who witnessed it—pirate, warlord, or self-proclaimed god—could only tremble before him.