"You're late."
Uta's voice carried from within the inner hall.
Aizen passed between the kneeling Celestial Dragons without even glancing their way, his smile calm. Behind him, Charlia halted at the threshold. She too bent her knees, joining her father Roswald and brother Charloss in prostration before the chamber.
"No matter how many times I see it, it's still terrifying," Uta murmured as Aizen approached. She looked past him at the rows of nobles and CP agents kneeling in perfect obedience. "Kyōka Suigetsu… such a dreadful ability. If you can control them all through complete hypnosis, why not simply take over the World Government directly?"
As the adopted daughter of Red-Haired Shanks, Uta had known suffering since childhood. In the future, she would even dream of using her Devil Fruit to plunge the world into a false paradise, trapping everyone in eternal song. Hypnosis didn't repel her. To her, it felt too slow that Aizen had bent only Roswald's household.
"Uta," Aizen said, his gaze fathomless, "those who rush are the first to fail. The World Government is not as fragile as you imagine. Wait quietly. The moment will come."
Though her lips curled in frustration, she could only nod. Because it was him—because it was Aizen.
She remembered the ruins of Music Island, the hand he had extended to her, and the promise that had changed her path.
"…Fine. As long as we follow your plan." She folded her arms, a touch of tsundere pride coloring her tone, before glancing aside. "But what's with this man you dragged here?"
In the corner, Lafitte hovered in midair. His white wings beat furiously, yet he had not advanced an inch.
In his mindscape, he soared over an endless ocean. The sea breeze whipped at him as his brows knitted.
"What's going on? I remember there should've been an island here."
But it had vanished.
A memory struck him—that dreadful aura from earlier.
"No… something's wrong. Has he followed me?"
Drawing the blade hidden in his cane, Lafitte turned warily. "Did you come for me, sir? For what purpose?"
No reply came. Just as his patience began to fray, a single word whispered in his ear.
"Release."
The ocean fell away. Suddenly Lafitte stood within a palace of gilded brilliance. Two figures stared down at him, their eyes unreadable.
That Vice Admiral…
He staggered back instinctively.
"Why retreat?" Aizen's voice was smooth, almost mocking. "If you meant to fight, you'd come forward. Or are you afraid? Distance matters only when strength is equal. Between us, it means nothing."
Seated upon the throne, he gazed down, his contempt as clear as daylight—or was it indifference?
"Heh… so it's you," Lafitte forced a smile, though his guard rose higher. "What business do you have with me, Vice Admiral?"
He knew the truth: to be drawn here without noticing, the man was either impossibly cunning or monstrously powerful. Against such, resistance was meaningless. The chill from before still gnawed at him.
"What made you believe you'd ever left this place?"
"Left?" His eyes widened.
Turning, he saw three Celestial Dragons in their glass helmets kneeling outside the palace doors.
This… this was Mary Geoise?
Ice gripped his heart. In his own mind, he had flown for hours—yet he had never departed. He had been led here, bound step by step.
To Lafitte, Aizen now seemed like the shadowy hand behind the world itself—mysterious, terrible, even the Celestial Dragons kneeling at his feet.
What kind of existence could wield such power?
"What do you want from me?" he asked, voice taut with a gravity he had never felt before. He could not believe such a man would waste time on a minor figure like him.
Not even his captain, who harbored countless secrets and dreamed of wielding two Devil Fruits, seemed worthy of this one's notice.
"Stand at my side, Lafitte."