Lucian Thorn's figure disappeared into the golden gate—
and the massive door connecting heaven and earth shattered.
No sound.
It dissolved into countless golden motes of light, drifting away in Whitebeard and Marco's stunned gaze, vanishing into nothingness.
A sea breeze passed by, lifting a few golden flecks and brushing across Marco's face.
He opened his mouth, but his throat was dry as sandpaper. Not a single word came out.
He turned to look at Pops.
The man once hailed as the strongest in the world now stood frozen like a statue, his gaze fixed firmly on the direction Lucian had vanished.
Gone was his usual boldness.
In its place surged a tide of emotions—darker and deeper than the sea itself.
To return to the past.
To witness firsthand what had been erased from history.
To step into that dazzling, legendary age…
It was madness.
It was magnificent.
Perhaps even Whitebeard himself hadn't realized—
there was envy in his eyes.
"Gurararara…"
After a long silence, a deep chuckle rose from the depths of his chest.
"That damn brat…"
He pulled his gaze back and gave Marco—still stunned—a massive slap on the back.
"Come on."
"Let's go drink."
"Quit looking like someone just died. What we need to do… is believe in him."
And besides—
That kid's strength...
Whitebeard grinned wide. A wild, battle-hungry smile bloomed across his face.
"Until he returns—
We hold this family down. You got that?"
At that same moment.
Lucian's perspective was being torn through by a blinding storm of space and time.
This wasn't like his previous jumps.
This was no short hop.
This was a thirty-eight-year journey through time.
A true traversal across eras.
His body plunged into a torrent made of shattered light and chaotic memories.
A straw-hatted youth grinned dumbly as he handed a Supreme Grade blade to a baby.
A grotesque, obese woman devoured souls in madness.
A giant azure dragon roared in the skies above the Flower Capital, its eyes full of pain and confusion.
A young man in a Marine uniform stood atop a burning island, eyes feral, roaring in defiance at a colossal silhouette.
Fragments of God Valley.
The paths of legendary figures crossing on a stage of chaos.
Lucian watched it all like a god peering down from the highest dimension—
witnessing the rise of kings destined to shake the world—or fall, forgotten.
He didn't know how long it lasted.
The soul-shredding current suddenly ceased.
His senses returned.
First came smell.
A stench so thick it nearly made him gag—
gunpowder, scorched flesh, rusted blood—all pouring into his nose.
Then sight.
A crimson sky, choked with smoke and dread.
A floating island overhead cast a dark shadow over the world.
The ground beneath his feet was soft, soaked through with blood.
In the distance—shouting, cannon fire, collapsing buildings, and monstrous roars filled the air.
This was no battlefield.
This was a carnival of war.
Lucian inhaled deeply. The blood-tinged air surged into his lungs.
Every cell in his body quivered in excitement.
He could sense it.
Dozens of monstrous auras saturated the sky. Each one strong enough to terrify the seas of the future.
Some, he recognized.
A vibration like a thunderclap—mountainous, dominant.
Familiar—like Whitebeard's, but younger. Sharper. Wilder.
Young Pops.
And another—deep and grim, like an abyss:
Monkey D. Garp, the Marine Hero, in his prime.
But most of the presences were unfamiliar, yet equally terrifying.
Charlotte Linlin's madness.
Kaido's violence.
Shiki's defiance.
And—above them all—a throne-like aura, vast and foul.
One soaked in pure malice, destructive hunger, and domineering control.
Rocks D. Xebec.
No—
More accurately: Davy D. Xebec.
Lucian's lips curled into a smirk full of intrigue and anticipation.
His golden eyes swept across the battlefield—
Like a top-tier player finally logging into a long-awaited legendary raid.
"What a—"
He murmured, a lazy grin in his voice.
"—what a lively God Valley this is."
BOOMMMMM!!!
A monstrous tremor erupted from the island's heart.
A loud, brash young voice thundered across the battlefield—
Overflowing with destruction and arrogance, treating all heroes of the world as ants beneath its feet.
"Ogorororororo!"
"Gol D. Roger! Monkey D. Garp!"
"You two damn bastards! Where the hell are you hiding?!"
"Get out here and die like dogs!!"
The Conqueror's Haki in that voice was so overwhelming, the red sky shuddered.
But almost immediately—
Another laugh burst out from the other end of the island—
carefree, wild, filled with freedom.
A force that refused to yield.
"Wahahahahahaha!"
"Oi, lads! Forget that lunatic!"
"The Celestial Dragons' treasure is right ahead! Rob every last piece of it!"
Two kings' auras, polar opposites—
yet equally mighty, equally sovereign—clashed beneath the crimson sky.
BOOM!!!
Invisible shockwaves ripped across the battlefield.
Pirates and Marines alike were hurled aside, coughing blood.
Lucian looked toward the voices.
Through thick smoke and chaos—he saw it.
On a leveled plain—
A tall, muscular youth with wild, dark hair
stepped on a Celestial Dragon's head,
laughing maniacally with a giant cursed blade in hand.
And opposite him—
A young man in a captain's hat, cigarette in mouth,
face marked by courage and laughter,
led his crew toward a palace of gold.
Behind them—two flags whipped in the wind.
One: three skulls—the banner of the Rocks Pirates.
The other: the classic straw-hat skull—the Roger Pirates.
The Battle of God Valley—
Had begun.
And Lucian's grin grew wide—
wild with joy and madness.
World Government.
The Marines.
Rocks. Garp. Roger.
And the hidden Imu.
Let me see what secrets you've all been hiding.