The great halls of Pangaea Castle were never silent.
Servants' sandals whispered across marble, nobles' laughter echoed in golden chambers, and the Celestial Dragons' demands rang like shrill bells through the Holy Land.
But today, silence reigned.
In the council chamber, five men sat at a round table carved from the roots of the Red Line itself.
The Five Elders, rulers of the World Government, stared grimly at the den-den mushi before them as the last words of an intercepted transmission crackled into stillness.
"Repeat it," one of them commanded.
The Marine officer on the other end stammered, his voice thin with terror.
"Y-yes, sir. Confirmation: The Delmar brothers stand united. They… they've sworn themselves to a campaign of war against the Government itself. And… and—"
The man's breath hitched.
"…it has been confirmed that their sister, Mira Delmar, has been branded a slave under the household of Saint Garvis , a Celestial Dragon."
The den-den mushi fell silent.
For a long, terrible moment, the chamber was still.
Then, one of the Elders spoke, his tone sharp as a drawn blade.
"So. That boy learns of his sister's chains. A dangerous thread has been pulled."
Another Elder leaned forward, his expression carved in stone.
"The Delmar line was always troublesome. Two sons bred from Marine stock, trained in discipline, forged in war. Now one has broken his chains, and the other has followed. Their blood alone makes them dangerous."
A third slammed his hand against the table.
"Dangerous? They are more than that. Magnus already shattered Impel Down. His Conqueror's Haki shakes the sea itself. If the brothers march on Mariejois with an army of giants and monsters, do you know what that means?"
The air grew heavy. Even the candle flames seemed to bow.
An Elder with a long, scarred face broke the silence.
"It means war not just of swords… but of symbols. If they free a slave from under the World Nobles' noses, others will rise. The fire of rebellion will spread."
The last Elder, who had remained silent, finally spoke. His voice was low, rasping, yet final.
"Then it is simple. Before they reach the Holy Land… they must be erased."
Far below, in the gilded chambers of the Celestial Dragons,Saint Garvis lounged on a throne of silk. Mira knelt at his feet, shackles biting into her wrists, the brand still fresh on her skin.
He tugged her chain idly, laughing as he sipped from a jewel-encrusted goblet.
"To think, the sister of such infamous vermin should belong to me. How fitting. When those dogs come crawling to my gates, I'll remind them of their place… before I hang her collar at my window."
But above him, in the halls of power, the Elders knew better.
The storm was already coming.