Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1500.
In this year, the pulse of the sea convulsed violently.The torrent of history surged forward, dragging every soul's fate along with it.
At the start of the year, a single transfer order from Fleet Admiral Kong sent Gern Reginald Sigmar—along with every member of his "Natural Disaster" faction—into the New World, granting him absolute command autonomy.
With that one stroke of the pen, this force known as "Natural Disaster" was formally positioned directly opposite the Whitebeard Pirates—
like a Sword of Damocles suspended above the head of the man known as the World's Strongest.
As a result, in just a few short months, Gern and Whitebeard clashed no fewer than fifty times throughout the New World.
However, not long after Gern's fleet arrived in those seas, a world-shaking ambush shattered the fragile balance.
The Lonely Red, the "Red Count"—Patrick Redfield, one of the last surviving titans of the old era—
in a move no one had anticipated, launched a solo assault, single-handedly striking at Fleet Admiral Kong, who was on inspection near Marineford.
For five days and five nights, the battle between these two apex monsters raged without pause.
In the end, it concluded with Kong grievously wounded and defeated...
Yet Redfield himself, utterly exhausted, failed to escape.He was captured by the arriving Garp and thrown into Impel Down.
At the very same moment this incident unfolded, the World Government's response to the Navy's power transition was swift to the point of suffocation.
While Kong still lay unconscious, he was promoted to Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces.Sengoku immediately donned the Fleet Admiral's coat and took command of Marineford.
And on the seventh day after Sengoku's succession—
the world was shaken by the Ohara Incident.
The "Poneglyph Research Expedition"—the very group Gern had once secretly spared—met total annihilation.
A fleet led by Vice Admiral Jaguar D. Saul blasted their ship into fragments.Only Nico Olvia survived.
When CP agents uncovered decisive evidence from the wreckage and the crew's remains,the World Government formally launched a Buster Call, encircling Ohara with a fleet of destruction.
At the same time, Vice Admiral Jaguar D. Saul, upon witnessing the World Government's interrogation of Olvia—
and overhearing Spandine's conversation with the higher authorities—
hesitated in the face of this so-called "justice."
Thus, the giant officer charged toward Ohara with Olvia in his arms—
only to arrive in time to watch his homeland reduced to scorched earth beneath naval bombardment...
And as the frost sealing Saul's body had yet to dissipate,Kuzan, gazing at the eight-year-old Robin fleeing by small boat, finally turned away—
silently permitting that act of betrayal.
That day, the flames of Sakazuki's artillery that incinerated the refugee shipdid more than burn away Saul's hot-blooded resolve—
they froze the last remnants of Kuzan's faith in justice.
Several months later, before Ohara's ashes had even sunk into the sea,Vegapunk encountered Dragon, who had also come to mourn, amid the ruins.
Beneath the shattered Tree of Knowledge, the two spoke through the night.
At dawn, Dragon departed with the resolve to inherit a will.
Two months later, during the complete liberation of the Sorbet Kingdom,he encountered Kuma and Ginny—
and through Ivankov's introduction, the two joined his cause.
Thus, the Revolutionary Army was formally founded,its banner flying across the skies of the sea for the very first time.
Meanwhile, deep within the lowest level of Impel Down—
the Golden Lion, at the cost of severing both his legs, broke free of his Seastone restraints, reclaimed his twin blades, and shattered the so-called "impregnable fortress."
After leaving Shiryu with a chest-piercing scar, he soared into the heavens.
And beyond all this clamor—
an infant crying softly in Garp's arms was quietly sent to the East Blue.
The name Portgas D. Ace, along with his lineage,was buried deep within the forests of Goa Kingdom, inside the wooden hut of the mountain bandit Dadan.
That year, the old era shed its final drop of blood.
And yet—
the heartbeat of the new age was already deafening.
...…
Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1501. January.
Marine Headquarters—Marineford—remained shrouded in the solemn atmosphere of its new ruler.
"Bang!"
The heavy doors of the Fleet Admiral's office were shoved open without ceremony, slamming into the inner wall with a dull crash.
Gern Reginald Sigmar, draped in a Justice cloak trimmed with black at the cuffs, strode inside.A nearly provocative smile hung on his face.
A document was clenched in his hand.
He walked straight up to the massive desk and slapped it down in front of Sengoku with a sharp smack.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku," Gern said, his voice dripping with undisguised sarcasm,"doesn't this seem a bit off?"
"You give me an Admiral's position—then strip away my independent fleet, my independent strike authority, my independent operational command."
"This deal… isn't it a little too lopsided?"
Seeing Gern, Sengoku's expression froze for a moment.
Only then did he slowly close the file he had been reviewing, lift his head, and calmly push up the frog-shaped glasses on his nose.
"Gern," he replied evenly, no emotion in his voice."The fact that I allowed you to retain the core elements of 'subordinate autonomy'—namely independent decision-making and independent appointments—"
"is already the result of fully respecting Fleet Admiral Kong's final orders before stepping down."
"You must understand: the position of Admiral carries greater responsibility and a broader perspective—not unlimited freedom of action."
"And furthermore…"He paused, his tone sharpening.
"You left your New World frontline post and returned to Headquarters without authorization.That alone is a serious breach of discipline."
"What about the pressure from the Whitebeard Pirates?If they made a move while you were gone, who would bear that responsibility?"
"Relax," Gern snorted.
He casually dragged over a sofa, sat down, and crossed his legs—
but his gaze turned instantly cold, like polar ice, stabbing straight at Sengoku.
"The wound I left him before departing isn't healing that fast."
"For the time being, he neither has the energy nor the inclination to stir up trouble."
Sengoku did not doubt this.
After all, Gern's clashes with Whitebeard the previous year had dominated headlines for nearly the entire year.
As Sengoku prepared to speak again, Gern leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with him, and asked each word deliberately:
"Don't try to change the subject, Fleet Admiral Sengoku."
"..."
"You cut a deal with those five old bastards in the World Government, didn't you?"
"Otherwise, how could they have agreed so readily to my promotion to Admiral?"
"You traded away my frontline autonomy for a more stable power structure for your Fleet Admiral seat—"
"and for the World Government's temporary peace of mind regarding the Navy's internal 'troublemakers.'"
"For you, this deal was pure profit."
The air in the office seemed to freeze solid.
Sengoku's expression darkened.His hand on the desk clenched slightly.
"Gern!" he snapped, his voice carrying the unmistakable authority of a Fleet Admiral."Watch your language—and your position!"
"Your promotion to Admiral is recognition of your strength and accomplishments!The corresponding adjustments in authority are for the coordination and balance of the Navy as a whole!"
"There is no filthy bargain like the one you're imagining!"
"Is that so?"The cold smile on Gern's face deepened—clearly unconvinced by the official rhetoric.
"The one losing power is me."
"And the one who ultimately benefits—who can more fully enforce your will—"
"isn't that you, Fleet Admiral Sengoku?"
"Gern!" Sengoku barked again, his tone heavier.
But looking at Gern's unyielding expression—clearly here to negotiate rather than be suppressed—he knew that brute authority alone would accomplish nothing.
Sengoku took a deep breath, forcibly tamped down his anger, and softened his tone, carrying the faint hint of compromise.
"Even if, as you say, some of these adjustments are not ideal for you…"
"I will compensate you in other ways."
"And the authority and resources of an Admiral are far beyond those of a Vice Admiral."
The moment the word "compensate" left Sengoku's mouth,the provocative smile on Gern's lips shifted into a subtle, satisfied curve—
as if he had been waiting for precisely that sentence.
"Oh?"He leaned back into the sofa, his posture once again lazy—
yet his eyes remained razor-sharp as he calmly stated his demand.
"Fine. Then I want people."
"People?"Sengoku blinked, momentarily stunned.
The tension in his expression eased slightly—he even let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief.
If it was just personnel, that still fell within the Navy's system.At worst, it was an exchange of interests.
With that thought, Sengoku nodded without hesitation, adopting the generosity of a Fleet Admiral allocating resources.
"Very well. Vice Admirals from Headquarters—take your pick—"
Before he could finish, Gern's voice cut in—
calmly dropping a name that instantly froze the air in the office.
"I want…"
"Douglas Bullet."