Since handing Ace over to Shendu, Doflamingo had slipped into the shadows.
He watched in silence — waiting, calculating, and smiling.
Part of him sought the perfect moment to strike.
The other part?
Just wanted to watch the world burn.
When Shendu erupted in fury, unleashing his "tamed" son upon the four legends of the world, Doflamingo's grin widened until it nearly split his face.
"Fufufufufu…"
"Yes, yes… more chaos. Let the whole world drown in it."
A flicker of crimson danced in his eyes —
pure, uncut madness.
The Battlefield
Four of the world's mightiest — Whitebeard, Garp, Sengoku, and Kizaru —
united their strength against one being.
Shendu, unflinching, threw Ace's limp body toward Rayleigh,
then stood tall in front of his son, wings spread, scales scorched, eyes burning.
He didn't move.
Didn't defend.
Didn't flinch.
If his son's "heart-softening" still lingered, he'd use it to its fullest.
"Father—!"
"No!!"
The Demon Dragon's cry split the sky—
but it was too late.
BOOOOOOM!
The world split apart in light and thunder.
The shockwave flattened everything —
rides, trees, buildings — all turned to ash.
When the smoke cleared,
a single silhouette remained.
Shendu.
Still standing.
Barely.
He turned, meeting his son's eyes one last time.
"Ruin them."
Then he fell — straight into the Demon Dragon's arms.
Blood gushed from his scales, his breath ragged. Even if the wounds were shallow, the sight was pitiful.
"Father…"
"I will."
The Demon Dragon laid him gently on the ground — then rose.
The air froze.
His killing intent spilled out, thick enough to choke the rain.
Even Whitebeard realized then that he'd struck the wrong man.
But regret came too late —
the quake's shock could not be undone.
Garp, on the other hand, stood motionless, oddly touched by the sight of the father and son.
"So filial… If Dragon, Ace, and Luffy were like that, I'd die smiling."
Sengoku and Kizaru, meanwhile, shifted their aim toward Rayleigh —
or more precisely, toward Ace in his arms.
Rayleigh snorted.
"Still thinking about capturing him? You should be worried about surviving the day."
The taunt hit hard.
Both Admirals felt that creeping chill — the kind of dread that comes right before a storm.
The Sky Weeps
The clouds turned black in an instant.
Rain began to fall — first soft, then heavy,
until the entire amusement park drowned in thunder and shadow.
The clouds above churned like furious faces,
and from their depths came a voice so cold it made bones tremble.
"I'll make sure you remember today —
for eternity."
The four veterans looked up.
High above, the Demon Dragon hovered, eyes blazing.
He raised one clawed hand to the heavens.
Lightning roared in answer.
Then it fell.
Hundreds of bolts.
Each thick as a man's torso.
Each striking like divine punishment.
The sky itself cracked.
The four legends barely managed to shield themselves —
even they, icons of an era, found themselves on the defensive.
Thunder drowned the battlefield.
The scent of ozone and blood filled the air.
By the time the storm eased,
their bodies smoked, armor charred, and every nerve screamed in pain.
Even the proud Whitebeard staggered.
But the dragon's rage wasn't done.
With a roar, gravity warped.
All four rose into the air, helpless —
then slammed into the ground like broken dolls.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The island itself cracked beneath them.
Amid the thunder's roar, Ace's eyes fluttered open.
His blurred vision caught flashes —
Whitebeard, Garp — both battered, bloodied.
"Dad… Grandpa…"
He struggled to move — but a shadow appeared beside him.
Shendu, standing tall once again.
"They won't die."
"Just a lesson. My idiot son overdid it."
He spoke lightly, but the air around him still crackled with static.
"Without Ronn's approval, I can't go around killing people here."
He smiled faintly, though his claws still twitched with restraint.
"Let's just say… this lesson will last them a lifetime."
Rayleigh's brow furrowed.
"Tch. Should've let him finish it. Maybe then I'd get some peace."
He shot a side glance at the four men — each one connected, in some twisted way, to Roger's legacy.
His tone dripped with sarcasm.
"Father, grandfather, grandson — this family's too complicated for my taste."
Ronn, meanwhile, just watched silently, arms crossed, eyes amused.
This was good theater — and when it ended,
there'd be profits to collect.
Then, the ground began to tremble again.
Cracks spidered outward,
and suddenly, Sengoku, Garp, Whitebeard, and Kizaru were half-buried —
only their heads sticking out.
"Die!"
The Demon Dragon's voice rolled like thunder.
Lightning coalesced in his hand —
a massive spear of pure stormlight, aimed at their skulls.
Just as it was about to fall—
Shendu appeared at his side, clutching his son tight, sobbing theatrically.
"Waaahh—! Son! They've learned their lesson!"
"Please, spare them for now!"
The Demon Dragon hesitated.
Then sighed.
He hugged his father back.
"Are you hurt?"
"All healed," Shendu said with a smirk.
"Horse Talisman worked perfectly."
"Good. Otherwise, I'd have killed them all."
He waved his hand.
The earth rumbled again,
freeing the four from their stone prison.
Whitebeard spat blood the instant he stood, his body cracking like old wood.
Even his monstrous vitality couldn't hide the truth —
he was dying.
The other three staggered upright, breath ragged, faces pale with disbelief.
That creature had just toyed with them.
Lightning, gravity, the earth itself — all bent to his will.
And just as they caught their breath—
A glint sliced the air.
A dagger, impossibly fast,
cut through the rain like a streak of silver light.
Even the air rippled behind it —
so sharp it carved a path through the atmosphere itself.
Its target—
Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
The blade sang.
No warning.
No sound of approach.
Only death, whispering at his throat.
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