Garp stood atop the distant glacier, watching Sakazuki's fading figure.
His body—like a mountain—trembled violently.
The light in his eyes… dimmed completely.
One won—
but looked like a mad dog.
One lost—
and lost everything.
Is this… the justice I wanted?
The wrinkles on the old man's face deepened, like they could crush a mosquito.
He didn't go down there.
He couldn't.
With one last glance at the kneeling figure below, he turned away.
The coat on his back, emblazoned with the word "Justice," fluttered in the wind.
That back…
was filled with indescribable age and sorrow.
The world fell quiet again.
Only the howl of the wind and snow remained.
Punk Hazard.
This place had buried an admiral's future—
and a hero's belief.
At the center of that grave knelt Kuzan.
Head bowed, he stared at what remained of his left leg—
a pitiful, bitter smile pulling at his lips.
The stump was barely frozen shut with his own ice, enough to halt the bleeding.
He had lost.
Betting it all—
and losing it all.
His belief, his pride, his future...
all turned to ash by Sakazuki's magma, along with that severed leg.
His face showed nothing but endless bitterness… and self-mockery.
How…
Laughable.
His body, drained of blood and warmth, was now colder than any ice he'd ever created.
At this rate, he'd die here.
Maybe that…
would be a release.
And then—
A shadow fell over him.
Without warning.
Blocking the last shred of light from above.
Kuzan struggled to look up.
A face—
serene, indifferent.
Golden eyes.
The Time-Space Emperor—Lucian.
Kuzan's dazed pupils narrowed at once, surprise flashing across them, then sinking into deeper bitterness.
Of course…
The man who took down the Four Emperors alone… why wouldn't he be here?
"Ah la la la la…"
A dry laugh scraped from Kuzan's throat like a broken bellows.
"You too… here to laugh at me, Time-Space Emperor?"
His voice held no Admiral's dignity anymore—
only numbness from losing everything.
Lucian shook his head.
He didn't speak down to him like Sakazuki—
nor stay distant like Garp.
He did something that Kuzan never expected.
Lucian squatted down.
Right in front of him.
Meeting the kneeling man eye-to-eye.
No mockery.
No pity.
Not even any emotion.
Just a calm question:
"How does it feel… to lose to a madman?"
Kuzan's eyes widened.
"For a rotting title… for a 'justice' that already betrayed you… to gamble your life and your beliefs…"
Lucian's words were gentle—
but each syllable was a blade, slicing open Kuzan's battered heart.
"Was it worth it?"
Was it worth it?
Those three words slammed into his soul.
The last of his defenses—
that shell of numbness built from failure—
shattered.
Was it… worth it?
The fires of Ohara…
Saul's dying roar…
The guilt of freezing Nico Robin with his own hands…
The turmoil during Marineford…
And Sakazuki's twisted face—
ready to sacrifice everything for "Absolute Justice"...
His "Warm Justice"—
was a joke in the face of that cold, brutal machine.
He had never just lost a battle—
he'd lost to a stronger, darker will.
Kuzan shut his eyes.
His cracked lips sealed into a hopeless line.
Lucian's words burned worse than magma.
"I lost."
After a long silence, he squeezed those words through his teeth.
"Say what you want."
He gave up.
No more resistance.
No more pride.
Kill him, mock him—whatever.
There was nothing in this world he longed for anymore.
But—
The expected blow never came.
Instead, a hand extended toward him.
Holding something.
Not a weapon.
Not medicine.
A small slip of paper—
warm with the breath of life.
A Vivre Card.
"Don't misunderstand—this isn't an order," Lucian said.
His voice had a strange power—calm, steady—
like a pebble dropping into the dead pool of Kuzan's soul.
"It's a boarding pass."
"A ticket… to realize your true justice."
Boarding pass?
True justice?
Kuzan's eyes snapped open—
for the first time, his dim pupils rippled violently.
He stared at Lucian, trying to see what plot hid behind that calm face.
"My justice?"
A bitter laugh broke from his lips.
It was hoarse.
"My justice… was burned to dust."
"No."
Lucian smiled slightly—
a smile of someone who had seen everything.
"You only lost to a more determined evil."
"Your justice… wasn't wrong."
"What was wrong… was choosing the wrong side."
BOOM.
That sentence detonated in Kuzan's mind.
He froze.
Staring at Lucian—
forgetting the pain, the loss, even where he was.
Your justice wasn't wrong…
You just stood on the wrong side.
For decades, no one had ever said that.
They called it laziness.
Weakness.
A flaw.
But not Lucian.
He unearthed that shattered belief from the rubble of Kuzan's soul—
brushed off the dust—
and handed it back.
Lucian saw the shock in his eyes.
Now was the time.
He stood up again, resuming that towering presence—
but his voice was more solemn than ever.
"The World Government is already rotten.
Justice is nothing but a leash for the Celestial Dragons.
Sakazuki's 'Absolute Justice' is their sharpest blade—unthinking, unquestioning, ruthless."
"But your justice, Kuzan…"
"Is human."
"That's why you suffered.
That's why you doubted.
That's why you lost."
His voice was soft, but it echoed far across the dead island of ice and fire.
"I will overthrow the Celestial Dragons."
"And build a world of true freedom and equality!"
"A world where the Marines don't serve nobles—
but protect the people!"
Kuzan's heart pounded wildly.
Overthrow the Celestial Dragons?
A new world?
A mad dream.
Yet…
It came from Lucian—
the man who crushed two Emperors beneath his feet.
His words carried weight.
"I need your strength, Kuzan."
Golden eyes locked onto his.
Inside them was recognition—
and expectation.
"Not as a subordinate…
But as one of the founders of this new order."
Founders of the new order.
That line obliterated the last ice wall in Kuzan's heart.
Lucian wasn't recruiting a stray dog—
he was inviting an equal.
He… acknowledged both Kuzan's power, and his justice.
"In my world, you can keep your 'lazy justice.'"
"Protect who you want.
Crush what you believe is evil.
No one will interfere."
"Just point your blade… at the real enemy."
Lucian painted a vision—
a world with no Celestial Dragons.
A Navy that serves only the people.
A world where Kuzan's belief… could finally breathe.
The world he'd longed for—
but thought impossible.
His breathing became erratic.
Looking at Lucian—this so-called criminal branded by the World Government—
He'd never seen someone who looked more righteous.
Lucian didn't press him.
He gently placed the Vivre Card beside Kuzan's only good hand.
"Think it over.
Come find me… when you're ready."
Then, he turned and vanished.
No sound.
Just golden light scattered on the wind.
Leaving behind—
A single card.
And a lost hero.
The world fell silent again.
In the distance, Whitebeard's loud laughter and drunken shouts echoed faintly.
Kuzan lowered his head.
He stared at the little paper.
It was light.
Yet heavier than a mountain.
It wasn't just paper.
It was…
A new path.
A new choice.
A one-of-a-kind ticket to the world of justice he'd always dreamed of.
His hand began to tremble.
Because yes—
The Navy's justice may have died.
But his justice—
Had not.
He gathered all his remaining strength—
And stretched out his bloodied, frostbitten hand.
His fingers shook violently—
Until finally—
They touched the warm slip of life.
And in the depths of his long-frozen eyes—
A tiny speck of light returned.
Faint.
But burning.
Full of pain, struggle—
And…
hope.