10,000 Meters in the Sky
Bathed in sunlight, a golden warship gleamed with a blinding brilliance.
The yellow glow radiated wealth and arrogance, as if the ship itself sneered at modesty.
Even the clouds dared not block its path.
This was no ordinary vessel. Every plank, every rail, every screw was forged from solid gold.
This was the Ark Maxim—or rather, its current name: Golden Thunder.
A ridiculous name, and only one person could've come up with something so flashy.
On the deck, Kaelen and Robin sat at a table, casually enjoying their lunch.
"Back so soon?" Robin said, a hint of regret in her voice. "I wouldn't have minded spending more time on the moon."
Kaelen raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "What's there to enjoy in a place like that? You can't even find a ghost out there."
Sure, the first visit had novelty. But once that wore off, Kaelen had no intention of returning to the moon. No food. No civilization. The air was stale, and hostile creatures roamed freely. It was the perfect exile ground for prisoners, really.
But for someone like Robin, a quiet, desolate place like the moon had a strange charm—perhaps because of her past.
"I liked it," Robin said gently. "No one to interrupt me. I could read, study, and explore freely."
She smiled faintly. "It would've been perfect if I could've brought back a few of those rabbits. They were cute."
At the mention of rabbits, Kaelen nearly choked on his drink.
Cute?
Those things had murder in their eyes. They were more savage than the average pirate in the New World. If Robin hadn't gotten stronger, she'd probably be the one kept as a pet.
"If you really want rabbits, I'll catch a few once we're back at sea."
"Make sure they're the right breed," she added lightly.
Kaelen rolled his eyes and didn't bother replying. He stood and walked over to the edge of the deck, gazing downward.
From this altitude, the world below looked surreal. Through gaps in the clouds, the ocean shimmered like an endless sapphire, dotted with whitecaps that glistened like pearls.
Robin joined him, stepping up beside him. "I wonder where we'll land."
"It doesn't matter," Kaelen replied calmly. "Anywhere's fine."
To him, the Four Seas, the Grand Line, or the New World made little difference. He came and went as he pleased.
As Golden Thunder descended, the scene below began to come into focus.
Soon, two curious sights came into view.
First was a massive pirate ship—grand, luxurious, almost palatial. Whoever built it clearly spared no expense.
A few miles away, a Marine battleship was charging across the waves in its direction.
And to the side, slicing through the sea like a silent predator, was a sleek black coffin-like ship.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That coffin ship... looks familiar. Hawkeye?"
He folded his arms, tapping his chin with interest.
As far as Kaelen knew, Dracule Mihawk, the World's Greatest Swordsman, rarely left his castle unless something intrigued him.
It could be a new swordmaster on the rise. Or maybe a mission from the Marines. Either way, Hawkeye preferred solitude, sword practice, and growing vegetables in peace.
---
Below
On the coffin ship, Mihawk suddenly paused in his meditation.
He sensed something… a presence watching from above.
Slowly, he looked up. His hawk-like eyes gleamed with piercing focus.
"A golden object in the sky…?"
From his angle, all he could see was the underside of the Golden Thunder. It was too distant to make out clearly.
To him, it looked like a giant brick of gold floating in the sky.
On the Marine battleship nearby, another man also looked upward.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his square-jawed face was calm despite the situation. A white coat with the word Justice flapped behind him. His eyes remained closed, but his senses were sharp.
Two long scars crossed over each eye.
This was the new admiral—Fujitora.
"A ship descending from the sky," he muttered. "Whether it brings fortune or disaster… remains to be seen."
He sighed softly, unwilling to jump to conclusions.
---
Aboard the Great Tiger
"World, give it up," came a weak voice from within.
"We've received intelligence. The Marines have dispatched warships. Other Warlords are moving in as well."
The speaker was a frail old man—small, hunched, his eyes cloudy with age. An IV hung from his arm, gently swaying.
This was Binjack, World's older brother and chief strategist of the World Pirates. Once regarded as one of the wisest men on the seas.
He looked at World with deep concern, trying to reason with him.
But the man before him was beyond reason.
"Give up?" World barked, eyes wild with fury. "They locked me away for thirty years! Thirty!"
His voice boomed like thunder, his rage rolling off him in waves. Even Binjack, who knew him best, flinched.
World's time in frozen confinement had been beyond inhumane. Sometimes conscious, sometimes not. No speech. No sound. No light. Just endless, crushing silence.
It was enough to drive any man mad.
Even three days in a dark cell would make most people break.
World endured thirty years.
A horror worse than death.
Seeing the fire in his brother's eyes, Binjack fell silent.
He understood.
This was no longer the same World who once chased dreams of freedom.
The man before him was something else.
Someone bent on vengeance, no matter the cost.
---
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