-Real World-
Most viewers watching the Sky Screen didn't fully grasp why Nika and the Sun God had been conflated into a single entity. The connection seemed tenuous at best, confusing at worst. The average person watching simply assumed that Kaido—like the other demons that had appeared throughout the broadcasts—originated from a Devil Fruit rejected by the Mother Ocean herself.
After all, the pattern was clear enough.
Medusa. The Sixth Heaven Demon King. Nika. Tot Musica. Four demons whose true names had been revealed, four entities whose existence was now acknowledged fact rather than whispered rumor. The public knew them, feared them, and tried to understand how such beings could walk among mortals.
Beyond the confirmed four, there were also suspected agents—people who seemed too powerful, too strange, to be merely human anymore. Basil Hawkins topped that list. The man had been definitively possessed by the consciousness inhabiting his Wara Wara no Mi (Straw-Straw Fruit)—there was no other explanation for how a mere Supernova could escape from Tot Musica's musical world using his own power. Even King, fighters who vastly outclassed Hawkins in raw strength, had needed external intervention to break free.
If he'd managed it alone, something else must have been piloting his body.
The knowledge of demon names spread across the seas like wildfire carried on storm winds. The Sky Screen had ensured that every island, every ship, every tavern and marketplace now understood the terrible truth: Devil Fruits weren't just tools. They were prisons. Cages. Trojan horses carrying ancient malevolence into unsuspecting hosts.
And this knowledge had consequences.
The fortunate few who acquired Devil Fruits in the months following these revelations began to hesitate. Hands that would have immediately consumed the fruit now trembled, holding the strange produce at arm's length as if it might bite.
The Sky Screen had made it clear that not every Devil Fruit user faced the risk of possession. The gap between genius and mediocrity was wider than the chasm separating humans from dogs. Most people would eat a fruit and gain power, nothing more.
But here was the problem: the lucky bastards who managed to acquire Devil Fruits in the first place were never the type to consider themselves mediocre. Every single one of them had dreamed of becoming a trendsetter, carving their name into history, building an empire from nothing. Self-awareness wasn't a quality they possessed in abundance.
These were people who'd beaten million-to-one odds just to hold the fruit in their hands. Why would they believe themselves to be anything less than exceptional?
Still, doubt was a poison that worked slowly. For the first time in recorded history, Devil Fruit auction prices dropped. Organizers watched in bewilderment as bids failed to materialize, as potential buyers hesitated and withdrew. The decline was particularly severe for ordinary Zoan-type fruits—the kind that granted animal transformations but little else.
Who wanted to turn into a rhinoceros if there was even a one-percent chance a rhinoceros demon might take over your mind in the process?
The legend of Nika and the Liberation Fighters spread further through the promotion of the Sky Screen, reinforced by ancient texts that scholars suddenly found courage to reference publicly. More and more people began to realize something was profoundly wrong with the Five Elders.
Why were they so desperate to suppress knowledge of Nika? What were they hiding? What did they fear?
Rumors took root in remote islands first, spreading through fishing villages and isolated communities where World Government reach was weakest. Whispers became conversations, conversations became declarations:
The Five Elders are demons themselves.
It made a terrible kind of sense. All the suffering in this world—the slavery, the genocides, the pointless wars—it all traced back to those five figures ruling from the top of the Red Line. Celestial Dragons might be the visible face of oppression, but the Five Elders were the architects.
And if they were demons wearing human skin, then every intelligent creature living in these seas was equally enslaved, livestock managed by ancient predators who'd long since forgotten what it meant to be mortal.
-Real World: Little Garden, Paradise-
Two giants rested on the small garden island in the first half of the Grand Line, their massive forms dwarfing the prehistoric jungle that had become their home and battlefield for nearly a century.
They were waiting. Waiting for their companions from the Giant Pirates to arrive with a ship large enough to carry beings of their stature. Only then could they return to the sea after a hundred years of endless, pointless combat.
"Brogy," the Blue Ogre rumbled, his voice like distant thunder rolling across mountains. "Do you think there will be two sun gods in the legend of our giant tribe during this era?"
Dorry sat cross-legged on the ground, continuously pouring wine down his throat from a barrel the size of a small house. The complicated question of Nika and Joy Boy had consumed more of his brain cells than he cared to admit.
Giants, as a rule, were not known for overthinking. Their culture valued straightforward strength, honest combat, and unwavering loyalty. Dorry and his companion Brogy embodied these virtues perfectly, which also meant they were spectacularly bad at navigating complex theological mysteries.
Most giants believed what they saw or heard immediately, processing information with the subtlety of a warhammer to the face. Oimo and Kashii were perfect examples—two warriors who'd believed the Marines' lies about their captain being captured and had served as gatekeepers on Enies Lobby for years without pay, never once questioning whether they'd been deceived.
Brogy, the Red Ogre, was responsible for grilling food beside his companion. The massive chunks of Sea King meat sizzled over an open flame large enough to roast a house. Fresh protein, hauled up from the ocean depths just hours ago. Enough to feed both giants for several days if they rationed it properly—which they wouldn't.
"Luffy extended his body in front of us," Brogy said thoughtfully, turning a piece of meat the size of a carriage. "He possessed some characteristics of Nika from our tribe's history. The rubber body, the laughter, the freedom he embodied. But..."
He trailed off, his scarred face creasing in contemplation.
"But the ability displayed by Yonko Kaido in the Sky Screen may be the real Sun God," Dorry finished, lowering his barrel with a heavy thud.
It was an uncomfortable truth they'd been circling around for days.
The techniques of the giants were sacred combat arts passed down through generations. Few foreign races could learn the giants' skills. Charlotte Linlin had been an exception in the past, a child who'd somehow absorbed their techniques through observation alone. But now Kaido, the King of Beasts, had broken that taboo as well.
And he'd done it in a way that made even the giants feel inadequate.
Brogy and Dorry knew perfectly well that Hakoku required both of them working in perfect synchronization. Two giants, two weapons, one devastating shockwave that could split the ocean itself.
But the future Kaido they'd seen in the Sky Screen could use it alone.
The technique bore the same name, followed the same principles. But the effects were vastly, terrifyingly different. Kaido had created an actual sun above the Sixth Heaven Demon King's head—a miniature star that burned with the fury of a celestial body. The heat alone would have incinerated anything within miles.
That was something the two captains of the Giant Pirates absolutely could not do.
"Is it possible," Dorry mused, tearing into a piece of grilled Sea King with his teeth, "that the moves we learned in our village are merely imitations of the Sun God's techniques? That Hakoku, Ikoku Sovereignty—all of them—originated from the mythical Nika himself?"
It made sense from a certain perspective. Historical evolution followed patterns. Most powerful techniques passed down through the ages could be traced back to specific myths or legends. Warriors didn't create moves from nothing; they inherited them, refined them, passed them along.
If the giants worshipped the Sun God as their only deity, wasn't it natural that their combat style would attempt to mirror divine techniques?
"We're too isolated here in Little Garden," Brogy said, his tone carrying frustration that had been building for years. "Our only channel for information is the Sky Screen. We're cut off from the world, fighting each other while everything changes around us."
He gestured with his enormous sword toward the jungle, toward the sea beyond.
"We need to personally identify whether Kaido the Beast is Nika. We have to do this on behalf of our people—on behalf of all giants."
Both Brogy and Dorry were veterans of the Grand Line's golden age. They'd been fighting in Little Garden for nearly a hundred years, locked in their eternal duel over a long-forgotten dispute. During that time, the outside world had undergone tremendous changes. Strong men had emerged like mushrooms after rain—some rising to prominence, others falling just as quickly.
But most of those warriors were human. Their lifespans, brief candle-flames compared to the giants' enduring bonfires, meant they couldn't survive long enough to remain threats. They died early, consumed by ambition or crushed by the sea's cruelty, while Brogy and Dorry kept fighting.
The two giants were only familiar with one current Emperor of the Sea: Red-Haired Shanks. They'd met him multiple times over the years, shared drinks and stories, established something that could genuinely be called friendship. Communication with Shanks was always smooth, always honest. He treated them with respect rather than the condescending amusement most humans displayed toward "simple" giants.
It had been through Shanks' intelligence network that they'd learned about Kaido being surrounded in the Devil's Triangle. The news had made both the Red Ogre and Blue Ogre anxious in ways they couldn't fully articulate.
If Kaido truly was Nika—truly was their god made flesh—then they couldn't stand by and watch the World Government and Marines tear him apart.
They'd begun urgently summoning the Giant Pirates to converge on the Devil's Triangle. Not to fight Kaido. To help him. To tear apart the conspiracy at once and allow Nika to reappear properly in the world, bringing liberation to all the suffering souls trapped on these cursed seas.
The two current captains sat in worried silence, each lost in thoughts about theology and duty and the uncomfortable weight of divine responsibility.
-Real World: Elbaf, The Giant Kingdom-
Far away from Little Garden, in the towering mountains and vast forests of Elbaf, the same doubts plagued the homeland of the giants.
"Saul," an ancient giant elder spoke, his voice carrying the weight of countless years. His white beard was almost as tall as he was, each strand thick as ship's rope. "You are the member of our tribe who has had the most contact with that blank period of history. Tell me—do you think Kaido, the King of Beasts, is truly Nika?"
Jarul was probably the oldest living warrior in the world. Even giants, blessed with lifespans that could measure in centuries, eventually succumbed to age. Jarul's time was approaching, and he knew it. The question wasn't idle curiosity—it was the desperate need of a dying elder to understand what kind of world he was leaving behind.
Jaguar D. Saul stood before the council, the only giant who had been to O'Hara, the only one who'd encountered Robin—the so-called "Demon Child" of the scholars. He'd also brought back the books and research materials that the historians had thrown into the lake at the cost of their lives, precious texts now housed in Elbaf's most treasured library.
"Robin never told me about the legend of Nika," Saul admitted, his enormous hands spread in a gesture of helplessness. "But we know from the Sky Screen that Joy Boy—the Liberation Fighter from history—was a user of the Nika fruit. The Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Nika."
He paused, considering his words carefully.
"It's possible that one of our own giants was once a Nika fruit user in the distant past. Joy Boy and the giant's sun god may not be the same person, but they could both have been users of the same fruit, separated by centuries or even millennia."
The concept made sense to the assembled giants. Devil Fruits reincarnated when their users died, appearing somewhere in the world to be found again. If the Nika fruit had existed for eight hundred years—or longer—then multiple people could have eaten it across the ages.
Each user would have accomplished great deeds. Each would have been processed through the lens of cultural memory, shaped by artistic interpretation, refined through generations of storytelling until the historical figure became mythological.
A human user might become Joy Boy the Liberation Fighter in human tales.
A giant user might become the Sun God in giant legends.
Different cultures, different names, same power.
"The question," Jarul said slowly, "is whether Kaido represents a new manifestation of Nika, or whether he's something else entirely. Something darker."
The assembly fell into uneasy silence.
Because that was the terrifying alternative, wasn't it? What if Kaido wasn't Nika reborn? What if he was a demon wearing Nika's skin, a parasite that had consumed the fruit's consciousness and twisted it into something monstrous?
The Sky Screen had shown them Kaido creating suns, wielding light that should have been divine. But it had also shown them his cruelty, his willingness to destroy, his transformation from a drunken brute into something refined and calculating.
Which version was real? Which version was Nika?
"We'll know soon enough," Saul said quietly. "The Devil's Triangle confrontation is approaching. When Kaido faces the Marines and the World Government's full might, we'll see what he truly is."
"And if he needs help?" another giant asked.
"Then we sail," Jarul declared, his ancient voice carrying absolute conviction. "If there's even a chance he's our god, we cannot abandon him. The giants will not fail Nika a second time."
The council rumbled its agreement, a sound like distant avalanches echoing through Elbaf's great halls.
Far away, on a small garden island, two giants continued their eternal duel, unaware that the entire Giant Kingdom was preparing to move.
And somewhere in the Devil's Triangle, a man who'd been called both demon and god stood on the deck of his ship, watching the horizon and waiting for the world to come for him.