Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1521 — January 1
After long preparation and relentless promotion by the World Government, the long-awaited Investiture Ceremony was finally held under the gaze of the entire world—officially in the Holy Land of Mary Geoise.
Of course, the so-called "World Nobles," who fancied themselves as gods, had no intention of allowing common mortals to glimpse the true heart of the "Land of the Gods."
Thus, though the ceremony was proclaimed to take place in the Holy Land, the actual venue stood merely on the vast platform before the entrance to the colossal upsurging sea current passage that connected the Red Line to the G-1 Marine Base below.
It was still within the jurisdiction of Mary Geoise. Grand enough. Imposing enough. More than sufficient to display the majesty of the World Government—while neatly avoiding the true inner sanctum.
Even so, the scale of this ceremony and the level of attention it commanded shook the entire sea.
Those invited to attend in person were without exception figures of immense weight.
The upper ranks of the Marines were nearly all present: Fleet Admiral Kong, the man known as "Steel Bone"; Admiral Sengoku; the three Admirals—Kizaru, Aokiji, and Akainu; former Admiral Zephyr; the Hero of the Marines, Monkey D. Garp; Chief of Staff Tsuru; along with numerous elite Vice Admirals from Headquarters.
From the underworld came its emperors—"Big News" Morgans, the Shipping King, the Loan Shark King—titans who controlled the economic arteries of the world's shadowed side, appearing in person to display the reach of the World Government's influence.
Kings and aristocratic representatives from member nations of the World Government gathered as well, impeccably dressed, forming a sea of regal finery.
Most astonishing of all, the ceremony was being broadcast live to the entire world through image-transmitting Den Den Mushi, arranged jointly by the World Government and Morgans.
At this very moment, no matter where one stood—
In the Four Blues and along the Grand Line, town squares filled with ordinary citizens staring up at massive screens, watching what they were told was a "sacred" moment.
Pirates—common crews in taverns, the Seven Warlords in their domains, and even within the territories of the Four Emperors in the New World—
Kaido. Big Mom. Shanks and his officers.
All watched in cold silence.
Within the hidden strongholds of the Revolutionary Army, leader Monkey D. Dragon and his commanders studied the spectacle with grave expressions, dissecting the political implications hidden beneath the pageantry.
On a certain island in the New World, a man who had only just clawed his way back from the brink of death forced his eyes open.
Wrapped in thick bandages, Marshall D. Teach glared at the projection with naked hatred.
Even the Straw Hat crew, undergoing grueling training somewhere along the Grand Line, paused to watch this world-shaking event unfold.
On this day, it was as if the entire world had pressed pause.
...
Investiture Stage — Platform at the Edge of the Red Line
The ceremony grounds were magnificent and solemn.
But the atmosphere was anything but celebratory. An invisible weight pressed down over everything.
To one side of the stage sat the Five Elders—the highest authority of the World Government—present in full at last, seated with composed yet heavy expressions.
Behind them, faintly visible, stood agents of CP0 in white uniforms and members of the God's Knights, rigid as statues, guarding the venue.
Beyond certain curtains, one could even glimpse figures clad in space-like suits—the Celestial Dragons—faces steeped in arrogance.
All these figures who stood at the pinnacle of the world now wore dark expressions—some scrutinizing, some wary—waiting silently for one man to appear.
The air felt charged, like the stillness before a storm breaks.
"Tap… tap… tap…"
Clear, steady footsteps approached from afar, unhurried yet perfectly measured—landing squarely on the rhythm of every heartbeat present.
All eyes turned.
At the entrance of the passage, where the light dimmed briefly, several silhouettes emerged and stepped onto the stage that commanded the attention of the entire world.
At the forefront—
Gern.
Today, he did not wear his customary coat of Justice. Instead, he donned a perfectly tailored Marine formal uniform—solemn yet imposing, nearly on par with that of a Fleet Admiral.
At his waist rested Bahuang.
Golden aiguillettes and epaulettes gleamed beneath the sunlight, accentuating his upright, unyielding posture.
Behind him stood the force that made the New World tremble—
The "Heavenly Calamities."
Douglas Bullet swept his gaze across the crowd with a savage grin.
Bartholomew Kuma remained silent, immovable as ever.
Enel rested his golden staff on his shoulder, eyes dripping with disdain.
Gild Tesoro stood calm and unreadable.
Perona chatted cheerfully with Lipo and the Snake Princess Toritoma.
Off to the side, alone, Dracule Mihawk stood with the black blade Yoru on his back, observing everything with cold detachment.
This terrifying inner circle forged by Gern himself needed only to stand there for an invisible domain to form around them—claiming half the stage.
On the opposite side stood the Five Elders and the God's Knights.
The divide was unmistakable.
And yet, beneath the surface—
It felt like confrontation.
"For me…" Gern's gaze slowly swept across the luxurious setting, the sea of powerbrokers, the global broadcast relayed through Den Den Mushi.
There was no trace of nervousness on his face.
Instead, a smile curled across his lips—equal parts mockery and satisfaction.
"This really is… extravagant."
Whether he was praising the spectacle, ridiculing the political games behind it, or simply declaring that the stage suited him—
No one could tell.
In that instant, every eye, every thought, converged on the platform at the edge of the Red Line.
On the man who stood without a hint of fear, smiling as he prepared to receive the so-called "highest honor."
"Heavenquake" Gern Reginald Sigmar.
...
"Enough."
"Now, I'm here…"
His voice carried across the entire venue—and through the broadcasting Den Den Mushi—into every corner of the world where people stared at their screens.
Before the host could proceed to the next segment, Gern stepped forward alone.
He paid no attention to the varied gazes from Marine officials, kings, nobles, or underworld emperors at either side.
Under the convergence of countless eyes, he walked with casual ease toward the very center of the venue—the most sacred and exalted part of the stage where the investiture would take place.
The spotlights followed him instinctively.
He stopped.
His gaze swept slowly over the Five Elders seated in the honored section.
Over the God's Knights lurking in the shadows.
Through the curtains—toward the Celestial Dragons who dared call themselves "gods."
Then, before everyone.
Before the entire world watching live.
A calm yet fiercely aggressive smile appeared on his face.
He slowly raised his right hand.
Under the suddenly contracted pupils and undisguised shock of the Five Elders—
His finger, sharp as a blade and dripping with naked provocation, pointed directly at them.
And then—
His voice detonated like thunder.
"So…"
"Which 'god'…"
He emphasized the word with deliberate, unmistakable contempt.
"…dares to bestow this honor upon me?"
The word dares exploded with Conqueror's Haki.
This was not a question.
It was a demand.
A challenge.
A public stripping away of the World Government's self-proclaimed divinity—dragging their façade into the open before the entire world.
It was a king standing before "gods" and asking—
Who dares step forward?
For a heartbeat—
The entire venue fell into deathly silence.
The Five Elders' faces turned ashen.
Their previous hesitation and deflection had been seen through—and now exposed in the most humiliating manner possible.
The global broadcast zoomed in, capturing everything in merciless clarity.
This man had arrived with the "Heavenly Calamities" at his back.
He stood at the pinnacle of world power.
With a single finger, he confronted the so-called gods—utterly fearless.
And the world erupted.