Marine Headquarters, Marineford
"Report to Fleet Admiral Sengoku!" The Marine lieutenant's voice carried a tremor of uncertainty as he delivered intelligence that defied comprehension. "Identical reports are flooding in from every Marine base across the four seas and the Grand Line. This... Sky Screen phenomenon isn't localized to any single region. Every soul in the world can witness it simultaneously."
Fleet Admiral Sengoku massaged his temples, his initial assumption—some elaborate Devil Fruit prank—had crumbled within hours as reports confirmed the global scope.
"Bwahahaha! Sengoku, you look more constipated than usual!" The booming laughter belonged to only one man brave enough to mock the Fleet Admiral to his face. Vice Admiral Garp slouched in his chair, nose-picking with shameless abandon while pilfering another rice cracker from Sengoku's personal stash. "Maybe I should stay a Vice Admiral forever. Much less headache-inducing responsibilities!"
"Garp, you glutton!" Sengoku lunged forward, snatching his precious senbei from his oldest friend's grasp and cramming them protectively into his mouth. "Where exactly does your Vice Admiral salary disappear to each month?"
"Living expenses, you know how it is," Garp replied with mock innocence, already reaching for another cracker. "Why don't you petition the higher-ups for a special allowance? I'm practically working charity wages here."
"Absolutely not." Sengoku's refusal was instant and sharp. Keeping Garp at his current rank and pay grade required delicate political maneuvering with the Five Elders. Having the Revolutionary Army's supreme leader as a son made Garp a walking diplomatic nightmare—the fact that he remained a Marine at all was miraculous.
After their usual exchange of insults disguised as friendship, the conversation shifted to the true concern. "This Sky Screen is completely unprecedented," Sengoku continued, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "Global communication access, real-time messaging visible to everyone. Even the Yonko crews are participating in the chat functions."
Garp's expression sobered as he recalled his earlier experiments. His fist, reinforced with advanced Armament Haki, had passed harmlessly through the ethereal display like striking mist. "My iron fist couldn't even scratch it. Sakazuki followed up with his 'Daifunka' (Great Eruption), and his magma sailed right through without leaving a mark."
"It completely ignores physical interaction," Sengoku mused. "Whatever technology or ability created this surpasses conventional Devil Fruit capabilities."
The office doors burst open as Vice Admiral Tsuru stormed in, her usually composed demeanor cracked with visible frustration. A mountain of documents slammed onto Sengoku's desk with enough force to rattle his tea cup.
"Sengoku, this is absolute madness!" Tsuru's normally measured tone carried an edge of exasperation. "Ninety percent of the Sky Screen chat is mindless pirate drivel—boasting, threats, and verbal sparring that accomplishes nothing. My intelligence staff is drowning in useless information. Reassign this surveillance to someone else before my analysts lose their minds completely."
Ten days had passed since the Sky Screen's sudden appearance, and Tsuru had diligently followed Sengoku's orders to catalog its properties and monitor pirate communications. The workload was crushing her department's morale.
Through meticulous analysis, Marine intelligence had identified three critical characteristics: First, all messages displayed the speaker's real name, preventing anonymity. Second, only truthful statements appeared—lies were automatically filtered out. Third, the system ignored all spatial limitations, allowing communication from anywhere in the world.
This third feature created an information chaos that taxed even Tsuru's organizational abilities. Messages ranged from heartfelt searches for missing family members to pirates inadvertently revealing their locations through careless boasting, leading to swift Marine raids. The platform had become a double-edged sword of unprecedented scale.
More troubling were the accusations flooding the chat. Citizens openly condemned Celestial Dragon atrocities, exposed corrupt kingdom practices, and revealed pirate crew secrets with impunity. The world's opinion of the World Nobles was deteriorating rapidly, explaining why the Five Elders had demanded immediate investigation and potential shutdown of the system.
"Tsuru, I understand your frustration," Sengoku replied diplomatically, his tone far gentler than the gruffness he reserved for Garp. "Please maintain surveillance for just a few more days. Something tells me this situation will resolve itself soon."
Tsuru's contributions to Marine justice rivaled even Garp's legendary status, but unlike the reckless Vice Admiral, she never created additional problems through rogue behavior. Such dedication deserved respect, not dismissive orders.
As noon approached, the three veteran Marines headed toward the cafeteria together. Government-funded meals represented one of the few perks their positions offered, and every free meal felt like a small victory over bureaucratic budget constraints.
"Look at the sky!" Tsuru's sharp eyes caught the change first, drawing her companions' attention upward.
The Sky Screen, previously cluttered with endless chat streams, had gone completely silent. No new messages appeared, and the background shifted from its usual pale blue to an ominous black void. Against this darkness, blood-red text materialized with dramatic flair:
Tomorrow, witness the revelation of Devil Fruit users whose powers shall reshape the world's destiny. Each represents the pinnacle of oceanic might. The Sky Screen pierces through time itself, revealing past and future. Prepare for comprehensive analysis: life histories, hidden abilities, driving ambitions, and crucial impacts on tomorrow's world. Exclusive footage of legendary battles awaits. All inhabitants of this world—prepare yourselves for truth!
"Predicting the future..." Garp's usual jovial demeanor faded as the implications sank in. "Even I'm curious about what lies ahead, though I'm no fruit user myself."
The weight of the announcement settled heavily on all three Marines. Their generation had fought desperately to maintain justice in an increasingly corrupt world, with the Shichibukai system representing a particularly bitter compromise.
"Sengoku," Tsuru's voice carried decades of weariness. "Have you ever encountered a Devil Fruit with prophetic capabilities?"
Her concern wasn't personal—age had taught her to accept her own mortality. But the future of the Marines, of her protégé Peacock, of justice itself hung in the balance. If the Sky Screen revealed truly dark futures, how would current forces respond?
"Damn it all!" Sengoku's composure finally cracked. "Can't even eat lunch in peace anymore. Tsuru, summon all Headquarters Vice Admirals for an emergency meeting."
Despite possessing the wisdom of Buddha through his Devil Fruit, the challenges ahead transcended anything in his considerable experience. Whatever future awaited the Marines remained shrouded in uncertainty.
Global Reactions
The announcement rippled across the world like a tsunami of anticipation and dread.
Within the holy land of Mariejois, the Five Elders abandoned their usual composed discussions for urgent deliberation. Eight centuries of vigilance against Joy Boy's prophecy had never allowed them true peace. Could this Sky Screen phenomenon connect to that ancient threat? The name that had haunted their ancestors' nightmares?
Across the seas, pirate crews large and small ceased their current raids and battles to throw impromptu celebrations. Being featured on the Sky Screen's review would grant global recognition—fame beyond any bounty poster could provide. For pirates who lived for notoriety and legend, no greater honor existed.
Hidden within oppressed kingdoms worldwide, Revolutionary Army cells received encrypted orders from their supreme commander, Dragon. All subversive operations were temporarily suspended. The winds of change carried whispers of revelation that could reshape their entire movement.
The world held its breath, waiting for tomorrow's promised truths to unfold across the Sky Screen's endless expanse.