-Real World: Devil's Triangle-
Deep in the perpetual gloom of the Devil's Triangle, Gecko Moria was drinking with Kaido as had become their unfortunate routine. But today, something felt different. Wrong. His eyelids twitched involuntarily, a nervous tic he couldn't suppress. An indescribable sense of dread settled into his bones like cold water seeping through cracks.
Something big was about to happen. He could feel it the way sailors felt coming storms.
"The Marine surveillance ships haven't shown up in a while," Moria said, keeping his tone casual despite the anxiety churning in his gut. He was trying to sound out Kaido's mood, gauge how the Yonko would behave today. "I really want to vent some anger on those bastards. Break something, you know?"
Over the past weeks, Kaido had talked about Nika incessantly—obsessively, really, to the point where Moria had wondered if the man was going mad. But ever since witnessing the battle between the Two Kings on the Sky Screen—that apocalyptic clash between Kaido and Blackbeard at Elegia—the topic had ended abruptly. Kaido no longer mentioned it deliberately, and Gecko Moria was tactful enough not to open that particular wound.
A man didn't poke at fresh scars if he valued his life.
The entire Devil's Triangle was dead silent. Not the comfortable quiet of rest, but the oppressive silence that preceded violence. The kind that made your skin crawl and your instincts scream. Even the wind blew without sound, carrying nothing but a hint of unnatural cold.
The sky in the distance was gloomy, dark clouds gathering like bruises spreading across skin. The whole scene resembled a dull, lifeless painting—all grays and blacks and the promise of storms that never quite broke.
A tense atmosphere hung in the air, pressing down on the hearts of the Thriller Bark Pirates with suffocating weight. Every crew member felt it, that premonition of disaster crawling up their spines. It was as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
People's moods soured in response to the unnatural tranquility. An indescribable unease surged through hearts and minds, manifesting in nervous glances and trembling hands. Moria's crew members walked with exaggerated caution, feet placed carefully as if the deck might shatter beneath them. They were afraid to break the eerie silence, terrified of what might answer if they did.
Every step was measured. Eyes roamed constantly, searching for signs of safety that weren't there. But there was only the endless, suffocating silence and the faint undercurrent of threat that permeated everything.
No one spoke. Only heartbeats echoed in ears, growing louder with each passing second. The cadres exchanged glances with each other but couldn't read what their companions were thinking. Anxiety and fear intertwined in their chests, making it hard to breathe properly.
The silence here felt like invisible oppression, creating a desperate urge to escape while simultaneously offering nowhere to run.
After what felt like an eternity, Kaido threw away the sake bottle in his hand. The glass shattered against the deck, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet. He muttered, his voice carrying an edge of grim anticipation:
"What's coming has finally come. I've waited too long for this."
The captain and crew of the Thriller Bark Pirates stared at him in confusion. None of them had learned two-color Haki—observation or armament—so they couldn't sense what Kaido could. His words made no sense. Was the Yonko drunk again? Had he finally lost his mind completely?
However, the slap of reality came very quickly.
Black fog rolled across the vast sea like a living thing, stretching ahead like a mysterious barrier designed to hide terrible secrets. And then, without warning, the veil was torn aside.
Hundreds of ships descended from the sky.
They appeared through the black fog like divine soldiers materializing from nothing—warships of massive size and intimidating construction, their hulls cutting through the mist with mechanical precision. Each vessel bristled with weapons and armored plating. Each one was manned by capable people who radiated killing intent like heat from a furnace.
Some ships bore the Marine flags on their sides, white and blue cloth fluttering in the wind, demonstrating their supposed majesty and justice. Others displayed the World Government's emblem hung high on masts, symbolizing order and rule and the authority of the celestial dragons who sat atop the world.
The ships cut through the waves with frightening speed, racing against each other as if competing to be first to spill blood. They looked like a pack of ferocious beasts breaking through the black fog, eager to tear apart whatever prey waited on the other side.
Water splashed high as the bows cleaved through the sea. The spray caught sunlight—what little of it penetrated the perpetual gloom—and formed shimmering halos in the mist. Rainbows appeared and vanished like ghosts, beautiful and ephemeral against the backdrop of approaching war.
Sailors moved with practiced efficiency across every deck. Steering, pulling sails taut, loading weapons, turning massive cannons toward their target. Final preparations for the upcoming battle unfolded with mechanical precision, every man and woman moving in synchronization born from years of training.
The sea breeze whistled through rigging. Flags snapped and fluttered. The air itself seemed to thicken, growing harder to breathe as tension filled every available space.
A war was about to break out. The Devil's Triangle was about to witness a battle that would determine far more than just one Yonko's fate.
The members of the Thriller Bark Pirates were almost scared to death.
In search of any sense of security—any illusion of safety in the face of overwhelming force—the Three Mysterious Generals all gathered around their captain, Gecko Moria, like children clustering around a parent during a thunderstorm.
Absalom, the stitched-together splicer who spent most of his time leering at women, was trembling so badly his whole body shook. Even his voice stuttered when he spoke, words tumbling out in a panicked jumble:
"The...the th-three Admirals of the Marines are really coming! Is it...is it too late for us to escape now?!"
Perona hadn't even needed to use her Negative Ghosts yet, but her companions—and the gothic lolita girl herself—were already drowning in despair. Her normally haughty expression had crumbled into something approaching genuine terror.
"We're Shichibukai!" she protested weakly, as if the title might serve as a talisman against what was coming. "The battle between the Admirals and Kaido shouldn't affect us! We're supposed to be protected!"
Hogback's panic was written across every line of his face. The unethical doctor held his beloved Cindy in his arms—his greatest creation, his obsession—and simply gave up. Resignation settled over him like a funeral shroud.
"If Cindy can rest here with me," he said with theatrical melancholy, "then I'll die without regrets."
It's not that bad yet! the other crew members thought desperately. Don't make your last words now, you dramatic bastard!
But the complaints remained internal. No one had the energy to voice them. They all felt profoundly, cosmically unlucky.
Brook, who'd joined more recently, felt like he'd boarded a ship sailing straight to hell. The skeleton musician was already dead, technically speaking, but that didn't mean he wanted to experience a second death at the hands of the world's strongest warriors.
Is it too late to run away? he wondered frantically, trying to calculate his odds. How do I pretend to be dead convincingly enough to fool them?
Before the Sky Screen's revelations, Brook might have had a chance. He could have hidden behind something, dug a hole, buried himself with dirt covering his bones. Played dead underground where no one would notice one more skeleton in a place littered with corpses.
But the Sky Screen had exposed everything. It had revealed that he was the user of the Yomi Yomi no Mi (Revive-Revive Fruit)—a Devil Fruit that granted manipulation of the Six Paths, communication with the gates of Hell itself, and the terrifying ability to resurrect the dead.
This "monster" had been placed directly on the World Government's target list. They viewed him as more dangerous than a resurrected devil. Brook wasn't even given the option of surrendering peacefully.
There would be no mercy. No quarter. No chance to explain or negotiate.
Just execution.
Meanwhile, Kaido—who looked perpetually drunk but was in fact completely sober and aware—showed no panic whatsoever. The burning fighting spirit in his eyes was fully sensed by the cadres standing near him.
"They want to keep us in the Devil's Triangle forever," Kaido said, his voice carrying grim satisfaction. "The Shichibukai and three Admirals. This time the Five Elders really spent a fortune. I should feel honored."
Flame Disaster King stood beside his captain, already having made peace with his fate. The last surviving member of the Lunarian race had long since disregarded his own life and death. As long as he could stand with Kaido, fight beside the man who'd saved him from that government laboratory, he didn't mind dying anywhere.
If this was where it ended, then so be it.
The Lunarian people would fight Kaido's battles to the very end. That was the debt King owed, the loyalty he'd sworn, the only family he had left in this world.
The Marines had even dispatched the exclusive flagship of the Fleet Admiral.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku and former Marine hero Garp stood on the deck, elevated above everything else, looking down at the terrifying three-masted sailing ship that served as Thriller Bark. Their presence alone—these two legendary figures from the old era—was enough to boost morale among the Marines fighting on the front lines.
Two men who'd shaped the world. Two symbols of an age drawing to its close.
"Kaido really is confident," Garp remarked, his tone carrying a mixture of respect and disapproval. "Surrounded for this long without even attempting to run. He's just like Rocks was."
The old Marine hero had experienced the Battle of God Valley firsthand. He'd fought alongside Roger against Rocks D. Xebec and his crew. Young Kaido had been there too, but already showing the stubborn determination that would define him decades later.
Now Kaido was as intractable as his former captain had been. Perhaps he'd face the same fate as Rocks—defeat and death becoming an unknown footnote in history, erased and forgotten by those who wrote the official records.
Still, something bothered Garp. He glanced at his old friend and noticed the tension in Sengoku's shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. Even with their overwhelming lineup, Sengoku was nervous.
Garp found that deeply confusing.
Even with this force, we can't defeat Kaido with one hundred percent certainty?
Three Admirals of the Marines. Six Shichibukai. Sengoku himself. Garp. Support vessels carrying thousands of elite soldiers.
If another Yonko appeared here then this assembled force could kill them. They could destroy a full-strength Emperor's crew completely. There should be no doubt about the outcome.
So what was Sengoku worried about?
They'd even deployed signal jamming ships throughout this entire sea area, creating a technological dead zone to prevent the outside world from learning about the battle. The embarrassing disaster of Loguetown—where their fight had been broadcast live to the entire world—could never be allowed to happen again.
Every precaution had been taken. Every advantage secured.
"We should stick to the original plan," Sengoku said quietly, his eyes still fixed on the distant Thriller Bark. "Fight quickly and decisively. End this before complications arise. If the battle is prolonged, variables multiply. We can't afford unexpected interference."
Garp frowned, following his friend's gaze. But Sengoku wasn't looking at Kaido or the ship.
He was looking up at the sky in the distance.
Watching. Waiting.
Wondering what—or who—might be watching them in return.
The wise Fleet Admiral had learned long ago that the most dangerous enemies weren't the ones you could see. They were the ones lurking in shadows and fog, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And in this world transformed by the Sky Screen, where futures could be seen and fates could be changed, Sengoku no longer trusted anything to proceed according to plan.
The crushing operation against Kaido was about to begin.
But whether it would end the way the World Government intended remained a question that hung in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~