-Real World -
Donquixote Doflamingo stood frozen in his luxurious prison, watching his world crumble piece by piece.
He'd witnessed Sugar's execution with his own eyes—seen that samurai's blade separate her head from her shoulders as casually as one might snip a flower stem. The Heavenly Yaksha's face darkened with a shadow so profound it seemed to consume the light around him. In all his years of treachery, betrayal, and bloody ambition, he'd never experienced such concentrated frustration.
First, the Five Elders had issued their decree: Sugar, exposed by the Sky Screen's revelations of her Hobi Hobi no Mi (Hobby-Hobby Fruit), was to be surrendered to Marijoa immediately. Then Baby 5, beloved by the masses for her selfless devotion, had been added to their shopping list of "required personnel." Both women—his family—were to be stripped from his protection and delivered to those decrepit old men like tribute.
The impotent rage of a fallen Celestial Dragon manifested in violence against inanimate objects. Doflamingo tore through his assigned quarters like a hurricane, reducing an antique chair to kindling against the marble wall. A decorative vase shattered against the floor. The ornate desk splintered under his Haki-enhanced kick. Each act of destruction brought no relief, only highlighted his powerlessness.
This was the great Joker? This was the Shichibukai who'd built a criminal empire spanning the entire underworld? A man who couldn't even protect his own subordinates—his own family—from the very organization he'd once belonged to by birthright.
"Since you've chosen to be so ruthless," Doflamingo whispered to the empty room, his signature grin taking on a quality that would have made hardened criminals flee in terror, "don't blame me for what comes next."
Plans began crystallizing in his mind—dark, treasonous schemes that would make his previous crimes seem quaint by comparison. The Five Elders wanted to use him as cannon fodder against Kaido? Perfect. He'd play along. But when the dust settled, those decrepit old bastards would pay for every humiliation, every indignity, every stolen family member.
Two CP0 agents stood guard outside his door, their presence a constant reminder of his captivity. His Den Den Mushi had been confiscated—even the simple freedom of communication denied to him. But Doflamingo was patient. This imprisonment wouldn't last forever. The Celestial Dragons still needed their attack dog for the coming war against the supposed Joy Boy candidate.
He could wait.
Meanwhile, in Dressrosa itself, the kingdom he'd ruled through fear and deception for a decade began to tear itself apart.
The resistance movement had exploded into open defiance. Citizens who'd once cowered before his officers now gathered in angry mobs, their voices raised in furious protest. Only the presence of Doflamingo's remaining executives—those powerful enough to instill genuine terror—kept the population from storming the palace ruins and demanding justice at sword point.
In the shadows, the Toy Soldier and his dwarf allies watched and waited. The Tontatta had learned patience through centuries of oppression. Captain Leo, counseled his people to remain hidden. Doflamingo's carefully constructed façade of benevolence had shattered beyond repair. He could never again pretend to be Dressrosa's savior king.
"King Riku! Bring back King Riku!" The chants echoed through the streets, growing louder with each passing hour. The citizens had made their calculations—better a kind fool than a clever monster. At least under Riku's rule, they'd been poor but alive. Under Doflamingo, they faced a future of being transformed into mindless titans, their families obliterated in the crossfire of the Young Master's ambitions.
The Donquixote Family itself was crumbling from within. Morale had reached an all-time low. They'd all seen their deaths broadcast on the Sky Screen—watched themselves fall one by one as the Straw Hat Pirates tore through their ranks. Only two officers had confirmed survival in the future timeline: the half-fishman Derringer and the traitorous Vice Admiral Vergo. Everyone else? Dead. Defeated. Forgotten.
The shadow of their predetermined fate hung over them like an executioner's blade, and they all knew it would fall eventually.
-Broadcast-
The Sky Screen's focus shifted, drawing millions of eyes toward a small, peaceful sanctuary hidden within Dressrosa's chaos.
In the flower fields atop the King's Plateau, Violet stood guard over her most precious treasures. The former princess had barricaded herself and her two daughters inside a modest stone cottage—a structure that had once belonged to her deceased sister Scarlett. Flowers bloomed around the property in defiant beauty, a stark contrast to the devastation that had consumed the rest of the island.
But their fragile peace was about to be interrupted.
When Eren Yeager had launched his Rumbling—when he'd commanded his titan army to remove every trace of hardening across Dressrosa—he'd inadvertently freed more than just transformed citizens. Deep within the cottage's cellar, a crystalline prison had stood for hours, its occupant suspended in perfect stasis.
Now, as the hardening crumbled away like sugar dissolving in water, that prison shattered.
Ada Wong gasped as consciousness returned in a violent rush. She collapsed to her hands and knees, immediately convulsing as her body tried to expel the residual liquid that had filled her lungs during crystallization. Clear fluid gushed from her mouth and nose as she coughed with desperate, wracking heaves that shook her entire frame.
"Stay back!" Violet's command was sharp and maternal as she pushed Elsa and Anna behind her skirts. The woman's arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance, her Giro Giro no Mi (Glare-Glare Fruit) ability already active. Her eyes began to glow faintly with power, ready to peer through Ada's body and anticipate any attack before it could manifest.
If this CP0 agent made a single threatening move, Violet would strike first and apologize to the corpse later.
Ada's vision swam as she looked up, taking in her surroundings through tear-blurred eyes. The cottage. The frightened woman. The two little girls peeking out from behind their mother's legs. Nothing made sense. Her memories felt like shattered glass—hundreds of fragments that didn't quite fit together, cutting her mind every time she tried to assemble them.
"I'm... I'm alive?" Her voice came out hoarse, raw from coughing. "How? Why do I have... so many memories that aren't mine?"
The confusion was agony. Ada pressed her palms against her temples, trying to organize the chaos inside her skull. Foreign images flashed through her consciousness—memories of people she'd never met, places she'd never visited, experiences that belonged to someone else entirely.
Then, slowly, the pieces began clicking into place.
She remembered the battle. That black-haired young man—Eren—defeating all three CP0 agents with contemptuous ease. Being brought before this very woman, Violet, who'd used her devil fruit ability to peer into Ada's true past. And then... then the real horror began.
Violet had extracted memories from Ada's own suppressed subconscious—memories the World Government had buried beneath layers of psychological conditioning. Memories of Flevance. Of the White Town burning. Of the Amber Lead Syndrome that had marked her for death alongside thousands of innocents.
Eren had forced those memories back into Ada's conscious mind through Violet's ability, using the most violent form of psychological therapy imaginable.
The truth crashed over her like a tidal wave.
She was from Flevance.
The World Government had destroyed her homeland.
And she'd spent years serving the very organization responsible for her people's genocide.
Ada stood on trembling legs, her usual grace and poise completely absent. As one of the World Government's elite agents, she'd been trained to maintain composure under any circumstance—torture, infiltration, assassination. But this? This was something her training had never prepared her for.
Her entire identity had been built on lies.
"I have no reason to fight anymore," Ada said quietly, her voice hollow. Then she dropped to her knees in a gesture of absolute submission, her head bowed low. "I just need to know... my two companions. Lucci and Kaku. Where are they imprisoned? Please. I have to save them. That's all I'm asking."
Violet's defensive posture relaxed fractionally. She recognized genuine desperation when she saw it—had felt it herself often enough during her years as Doflamingo's mistress. The threat had passed. Whatever fire had driven this woman before, it had been extinguished completely.
"Based on my understanding of Doflamingo's methods," Violet said carefully, "he keeps all valuable prisoners in the palace's underground detention facility. The surface structures have been completely destroyed in today's fighting, but the subterranean levels should remain intact. If your companions are alive, that's where you'll find them."
Relief flooded Ada's features. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
She was out the door before Violet could respond, her red qipao disappearing into the distance like a crimson streak. The former princess watched her go with mixed emotions—pity for the woman's broken faith, relief at her departure, and a nagging worry about what other complications this day would bring.
What Ada, in her desperate haste, failed to notice was the figure observing from the treeline.
An old man in a silver mask stood motionless among the flowers, one hand resting on the hilt of a weathered sword. His attention shifted from the departed CP0 agent to the cottage where Violet and her daughters remained. His expression, hidden behind the mask, was unreadable.
Ada's Geppo (Moonwalk) carried her across Dressrosa's ruined skyline with desperate speed. Her legs pumped mechanically, each step finding purchase on empty air as she raced toward the King's Plateau. The palace—or what remained of it—loomed ahead like a broken tooth jutting from the island's crown.
The fighting had indeed ended. The once-magnificent structure had been literally cleaved in half, creating a massive canyon that split the King's Plateau down to its foundations. Smoke still rose from scattered fires, and the air reeked of blood, burnt flesh, and ozone from discharged devil fruit abilities.
But Ada had no attention to spare for the destruction. Her Mushi Mushi no Mi (Bug-Bug Fruit), Model: Plaga Parasite granted her a unique connection to every parasitic organism she'd created. Through the mother insect nested in her own body, she could sense her "children"—including the larvae she'd implanted in both Lucci and Kaku for tracking purposes.
They were below. Deep underground. And they were alive.
The underground prison had suffered partial collapse, with tons of rubble blocking most of the original passages. But the structural damage worked in Ada's favor—she didn't need to navigate a maze of corridors. She could simply descend through the newly created fissures directly to her companions' location.
In the darkness below, two prisoners had managed to avoid being crushed by falling debris through a combination of skill and luck.
"Lucci, you hear that?" Kaku's voice carried the usual optimism of youth, even in such dire circumstances. His head tilted, long nose twitching as he caught sounds from above. "Someone's up there. Moving around."
"I hear it." Rob Lucci's response was clipped, controlled. Despite the seastone handcuffs sapping his strength, despite the indignity of imprisonment, the man's pride remained intact. His feline eyes narrowed in concentration, filtering through the various sounds until he isolated the specific pattern he was listening for.
A heartbeat. Elevated, indicating physical exertion. Breathing pattern—female, showing signs of emotional distress rather than exhaustion. And beneath it all, a familiar rhythm he'd committed to memory years ago.
"It's Ada," Lucci stated with absolute certainty.
Kaku blinked in surprise. "You can tell just from listening?"
Before Lucci could respond, light suddenly pierced their prison as Ada tore away a boulder from above. Her silhouette appeared in the opening, backlit like some descending angel.
"Wait just a moment," she called down, her voice thick with barely restrained emotion. "I'm coming. I'll get you out. Just hold on."
She didn't wait for acknowledgment. Ada's hands flew through the rubble with frantic energy, employing every technique from the Rokushiki. Shigan pierced through weaker stone. Rankyaku kicked aside larger fragments. Her movements were precise but desperate, efficiency giving way to raw urgency.
Blood began staining her fingers as she worked. Jagged edges tore through her skin, leaving red smears across the pale stone. She'd forgotten to coat her hands with Armament Haki in her haste—a rookie mistake no elite agent should make.