THWACK. BONK!
The sound was shockingly loud, carrying a dull, heavy resonance that completely shattered the apocalyptic tension of the moment.
Portgas D. Ace's eyes crossed. His mouth snapped shut, his teeth clacking together violently.
He didn't leap across the chasm. Instead, his knees instantly buckled, and he face-planted directly onto the hard permafrost with a pathetic, undignified smack.
"GYAHHHH!" Ace cried out, rolling over onto his back, violently clutching the top of his head with his shackled hands. A massive, comical, and rapidly swelling red lump was already forming amidst his messy black hair.
Silvers Rayleigh stood directly behind the fallen Fire Fist.
The Dark King hadn't used his sword. He held the scabbard of his blade in his right hand, having just delivered a ruthless, perfectly placed, Haki-infused bonk directly to the crown of Ace's skull.
Rayleigh's face was utterly devoid of sympathy. His eyes, usually carrying a hint of retired amusement, were narrowed in profound, fatherly disappointment.
"Are you an idiot?!" Rayleigh scolded, his voice carrying the heavy, reprimanding tone of a disappointed uncle.
"SHITTY GEEZER!" Ace howled in pain, tears springing to his eyes from the sheer physical force of the blunt-force trauma. He glared up at the silver-haired legend, rubbing his throbbing head.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! He insulted Pops!"
"And what exactly were you going to do about it?" Rayleigh asked, completely unbothered by the insult, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You are shackled in Seastone. You are half-dead from starvation. Were you going to headbutt an Admiral made of magma?"
"I don't care!" Ace yelled, his pride still blinding him.
"I won't let him talk about him like that!"
Rayleigh's expression hardened. He took a step forward, towering over the fallen Fire Fist.
"Listen to me, boy," Rayleigh stated, his voice dropping an octave, "Do you think Edward Newgate split this island in half so you could throw your life away over the cheap, pathetic barking of a Marine dog?"
Ace flinched, the words striking him harder than the scabbard had.
"Your father, Roger, suffered from the exact same fatal flaw," Rayleigh continued, his eyes briefly flashing with the painful ghosts of the past.
"He would never walk away from an insult directed at his crew. He would destroy an entire nation's military just because someone insulted a friend."
"It was his greatest strength, and it was his greatest curse."
Rayleigh reached down, grabbing the thick collar of Ace's dirty shirt. He effortlessly hoisted the Fire Fist off the ice, holding him eye-level.
"Whitebeard is buying your future with his own life," Rayleigh growled, his Haki flaring just enough to make the air vibrate around them.
"If you turn back now to satisfy your own fragile pride, you are not defending his honor.!"
"YOU ARE SPITTING DIRECTLY ON IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!!"
Ace stared into the Dark King's eyes. The feral, unreasoning rage that had blinded him slowly began to evaporate, violently replaced by the crushing, agonizing realization of his own stupidity.
He looked past Rayleigh, seeing Luffy standing there, shaking, his face pale from exhaustion, having nearly watched his brother die all over again.
Ace's jaw trembled. He lowered his gaze, the fight entirely draining out of him.
"...I'm sorry," Ace whispered, the shame suffocating him.
"Good," Rayleigh huffed, releasing Ace's collar and letting him drop roughly back onto his feet.
"I'll work on your brain later."
"Luffy-kun, grab your idiot brother. We are leaving."
"Right!" Luffy nodded frantically, quickly throwing Ace's arm back over his shoulder.
"Thank you, old man," Zoro muttered, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
"Let's move before the magma freak tries something else," Sanji added, already pivoting toward the bay.
Across the chasm, the psychological warfare had ended in a complete, anti-climactic failure.
Admiral Aokiji, standing a few yards behind Akainu, watched the Dark King physically drag the Fire Fist back into the retreat. The ice-man exhaled a long, freezing sigh, his hands still encased in his Ice Gloves.
"Well," Aokiji deadpans, his voice completely flat, lacking any inflection.
"That didn't work."
Admiral Akainu was vibrating with unadulterated fury. The veins in his forehead looked ready to burst. The perfect trap, the infallible psychological bait, had been entirely dismantled by an old man with a scabbard.
"SILVERS RAYLEIGH!" Akainu roared, the magma dripping from his arms violently igniting the bedrock.
High above the chasm, floating amidst the tearing clouds, Light Yagami briefly paused his relentless, supersonic assault on Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
The False Deity looked down, his Level 5 Observation Haki having captured the entire exchange. Light let out a short, genuine chuckle, effortlessly parrying a golden, Haki-laced palm strike from the Buddha.
Down on the ice, Akainu turned his burning, fanatical eyes away from the retreating pirates. If he could not reach the sons, he would entirely obliterate the father who stood in his way.
Akainu looked sideways at Aokiji. The Red Dog's face was a mask of absolute, uncompromising dogma.
"Kuzan," Akainu stated, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that carried the weight of an execution order. "The world is watching. For the sake of Absolute Justice... there is no other choice."
It was time to finish the fight.
Right here.
Right at this instant.
Whitebeard had to die.
Aokiji opened his eyes, the lazy demeanor permanently erased, replaced by the cold, unforgiving reality of deep winter. He and Akainu locked eyes for a single, silent moment.
The two Admirals turned their gazes back to the towering, bleeding monolith that was Edward Newgate.
For some reason, it was immediately clear to any veteran observer that Aokiji was intentionally taking the backseat. The ice-man was yielding the vanguard, playing the role of the perfect, flawless support, creating precise, lethal openings purely so Akainu could deliver the killing blows.
For some, it might look like Aokiji wanted to let Akainu get the credit. In reality, Aokiji just didn't want to deliver the finishing blow to the man who just wanted to have a family.
Whitebeard gripped his bisento, feeling the shift in the Admirals' intent.
He was getting slower and only had minutes at most left in him.
'Time to die!'
"GURARARARA!"