Dressrosa, Palace Heights
As the name suggests, a vast complex of palaces stood on a hilltop, elevated above the entire kingdom.
Towering over the land, this stronghold suited the taste of its ruler—arrogant, opulent, and untouchable.
Inside the main palace, several cadres of the Donquixote Family, along with their young leader Doflamingo, were gathered for a regular strategic meeting.
As a major underground force, the family's operations were far-reaching, touching all corners of the world. Coordination was essential, and every few weeks, plans had to be restructured, realigned—and most importantly, expanded.
At the head of the banquet table sat Doflamingo, grinning like a serpent in silk. On his left sat Diamante and Pica. On his right, Trebol took the first seat, followed by Monet, the Snow Woman.
Behind them stood the rest—Senior Pink, Baby 5, silent but observant.
"Hee hee hee, young master, Vergo has successfully climbed the Navy ranks. We can now accelerate the plan," Trebol cackled, his nasal voice full of smug satisfaction.
As one of Doflamingo's earliest followers, Trebol was part of the original four—alongside Diamante, Pica, and Vergo—who had rescued Doflamingo in his youth and armed him with the Devil Fruit that would define his path.
Their bond ran deeper than blood.
"Fufufufufu. I didn't expect Vergo to move so fast. What about Caesar—is he holding up?" Doflamingo leaned back, clearly amused.
A few months ago, he had struck a crucial deal with Kaido of the Beasts, and Caesar Clown was the linchpin of that arrangement.
"Ah, Caesar's the same as always," Monet said with a half-smile. "Greedy, lustful, and obsessed with surpassing Vegapunk."
"Surpass Vegapunk?" Doflamingo snorted. "Still such a naïve dream."
Though he didn't mock Caesar outright, the disdain in his tone was unmistakable. Everyone at the table felt it.
Vegapunk—chief scientist of the World Government and undisputed genius—was said to be five hundred years ahead of his time.
Doflamingo valued Caesar not for his brilliance, but for one reason: he had reverse-engineered a method to mass-produce artificial Devil Fruits—SMILEs.
Even that was just a discarded footnote in Vegapunk's vast library of research.
Caesar's ambition to outdo Vegapunk was laughable.
"Dover, there's also news from the North Blue," Diamante reported grimly. "Our operations there have taken a serious hit from Germa 66. Losses are mounting."
"Germa 66..." Doflamingo's grin faded. He drummed his fingers on the polished table.
Germa 66—also known as the Warmongering Science Army—was infamous across the world. A floating empire with no permanent land, its army had been mythologized in comics and feared in reality. Their brutality was matched only by their advanced technology and ruthless efficiency.
Worse, their base of power was the North Blue—the same territory the Donquixote Family had been trying to dominate.
"Vinsmoke Judge is not someone to take lightly," Doflamingo muttered. "Send word—pull back our operations from the North Blue. There's no need to clash with the Vinsmoke family just yet."
Though the Donquixote Family was slightly stronger overall, a full-scale conflict over a single territory wasn't worth the cost. Doflamingo, a cunning broker and strategist, knew when to make sacrifices for long-term gains.
Despite some murmurs of discontent, no one voiced opposition.
Germa 66 was mobile, savage, and emotionless. Picking a fight with them wasn't just dangerous—it was suicidal.
---
Time crept by.
Within the grand hall, the Donquixote Family continued their deliberations.
Outside, the bright sky had quietly darkened. Thick clouds rolled in, wind howling through Dressrosa like a vengeful spirit.
At the base of the hill, three figures strolled leisurely toward the palace.
Kaelen Tsukishiro walked at the front, hands in his pockets, taking in the scenic beauty of the floral gardens without a care in the world.
"The world's changing," Kaelen said, glancing up at the brewing storm overhead. A faint, wild grin tugged at his lips. "Seems like even the heavens are rolling out a welcome mat for me."
"Keep talking like that and you'll get struck down," Robin muttered dryly beside him.
Boom!
Crack!
Almost as if in response, a bolt of lightning tore through the clouds and struck the ground just inches from Kaelen's feet.
"Holy—!"
Kaelen froze, eyes wide, then turned slowly to Robin like she was some divine being.
"Did you just... curse me with your mouth?"
He scowled, stepping away from her cautiously, arms crossed. "I don't feel safe standing next to you anymore."
Even Aokiji raised an eyebrow.
"Heh. Guess that's what you get for piling up bad karma," Robin said coolly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her tone was calm, but her eyes flashed with something sharp—unspoken memories, perhaps.
"...Tch."
Kaelen sighed, muttering under his breath. "Smart men don't argue with women."
Without breaking stride, the trio continued up the path, heading straight toward the palace atop the hill.
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