Lucian Thorn's quiet voice instantly snapped Marco's frozen mind back to life.
Standing before him now—his father—was no longer weak or worn from injuries.
Whitebeard without injuries.
Though his age had long reached the point where he could live as he pleased, somehow… he still radiated the same grandeur as his younger self.
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard strode forward, and even the floor of the captain's quarters seemed to tremble.
His massive palm slammed down hard on Marco's shoulder.
"Gurararara! My son's soul is back! Now it's your turn!"
His laughter was filled with a power and joy unlike anything before.
That slap nearly sent Marco stumbling—but it also jolted him out of his shock.
Marco lifted his head sharply, and the once-lazy look in his eyes had turned to flame.
That was desire.
The will to become stronger.
"I…"
He had just opened his mouth when Lucian shook his head with a smile.
"Not here."
He glanced around the bedroom.
"It's going to get a bit loud. I'd rather not demolish the Moby Dick."
Before Marco could even respond, Lucian was already beside him.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
A soft, irresistible force wrapped around him.
Marco had no time to react.
The world—the laughing face of Pops, the familiar room—twisted and broke apart before his eyes, dissolving into brilliant golden light.
The next instant, everything stopped.
His feet hit solid ground.
Marco stumbled forward to steady himself.
When he opened his eyes…
He was no longer on the Moby Dick.
This was a barren island.
Underfoot was coarse, dark-brown volcanic rock, stretching all the way to the horizon.
The island was lifeless—no grass, just jagged boulders and dead volcanic craters. Like the remains of an ancient beast.
"This place…"
Marco turned to Lucian.
"Did we… teleport here?"
"Just a small ability," Lucian replied casually, hands clasped behind his back, speaking as easily as if he were commenting on the weather.
"It's quiet enough, and sturdy enough. Doesn't matter how much noise we make."
Marco forcefully shoved aside the turmoil in his heart.
He stopped thinking about anything else.
He locked his eyes onto Lucian with an intensity he'd never shown before.
Lucian gave an approving smile.
Instead of acting right away, he began pacing slowly across the black stone ground.
His voice rang out.
"Marco, before we begin, there are a few things you need to understand."
"Your fruit—the Phoenix form—its core is life force and regeneration, correct?"
Marco nodded firmly.
"Your Flame of Regeneration can heal any wound—even your own."
"But its nature is recovery, not offense. That's why your flames don't burn enemies, and why you couldn't do anything about the internal injuries Pops carried for decades."
That was true.
His blue flames were more like a healing tool—not a weapon.
"One of the powers I wield… is the Solar Divine Flame."
Lucian stopped walking and turned around.
He held out his right hand—and a small flame of pure gold ignited at his fingertips.
"Your blue flames are, in essence, a lower manifestation of the Fire of Life. They originate from life—so they cannot surpass the limits of life itself."
"Lower… form?"
Marco repeated those words slowly.
A door he'd never even considered… had cracked open.
"Exactly."
Lucian's tone allowed no room for doubt.
"The Fire of Life, the Flame of Regeneration—they're just shadows of something higher. What I'm about to give you… is the original essence. The source of Divine Flame."
Divine Flame.
Marco's heart thudded hard.
He looked at the golden fire in Lucian's hand—and this time, it wasn't submission that surged from his soul…
It was desire.
"What I'm going to do… is use my Solar Divine Power as a catalyst, along with some evolutionary materials, to forcibly embed a strand of the Sun God's flame essence into your body. It'll merge with your Devil Fruit genes… and force a transformation that no one's ever attempted."
Lucian's expression grew grave.
He stepped toward Marco, each stride falling in sync with his heartbeat.
Those golden eyes of his held the cold detachment of a god staring down at mortals.
"But Marco, I need to warn you."
"This process will be extremely painful."
"It means using overwhelming force to shatter your Devil Fruit factors—pulverizing them completely—and then rebuilding them, piece by piece, with higher-dimensional power."
"Like throwing scrap iron into the sun, and forging it into divine steel."
"Your body, your will, your soul… all of them will undergo the fiercest tempering by the Solar Divine Flame. I promise—every second will feel like you're burning in hell."
Lucian stopped less than a meter in front of Marco.
He could see the sweat beading on Marco's brow—feel his trembling body.
"If your will falters—even for a moment…"
Lucian's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Your body will be severely damaged."
"Or worse…"
"You'll die on the spot."
He stared at Marco, waiting for his answer.
Would he back down?
Or step forward?
Marco's breathing grew ragged. His chest rose and fell violently.
A war raged in his mind.
But…
Power.
He needed more power.
Not just a Flame of Regeneration that could only patch wounds behind Whitebeard's back—
But a strength that could stand at Whitebeard's side. One that could share his burdens, tear enemies apart, and protect this family.
Fear and hesitation vanished from his eyes.
In their place burned the fury of a volcanic eruption.
He wasn't scared.
He was ignited.
All of his pride—all of his blood—blazed into action.
"Heh…"
Marco chuckled.
He raised his head and met Lucian's gaze head-on, baring a wild grin.
"For Pops… for the Whitebeard Pirates… I'd throw this life away in a heartbeat!"
"Pain? Bring it!"
BOOM!
The moment he finished, blue flames exploded skyward—engulfing him completely!
The fire parted.
And in his place stood a majestic phoenix, wings of brilliant blue spreading wide as gales howled around them.
He looked at Lucian and nodded firmly.
In those sharp bird eyes—there was no longer a hint of doubt.
"Come, Lucian!"
His piercing phoenix cry split the sky—resolute, undaunted by death.
"Show me the power of your Divine Flame!"
Lucian smiled.
Now that's more like it.
That's the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates—Marco.
"Good."
Lucian nodded and slowly raised his right hand.
Buzz——
This time, it wasn't a small flame.
It was a sun.
A golden orb of energy, as if someone had plucked the sun from the sky and compressed it a billionfold, ignited in his palm!
The moment it appeared, the entire island's air twisted and boiled.
The ground groaned under the pressure—cracking in all directions with Lucian at the center.
Inside that sphere, monstrous energy howled and churned.
Even the slightest leak of aura made Marco's phoenix body begin to melt.
This—this was the source of Divine Flame.
This was the key to pushing his power even further.