Golden Lion's figure vanished completely beyond the distant horizon, leaving behind only the howling wind and the choking stench of smoke drifting over Marineford G-3 Base.
Sakazuki and Zephyr stood where they were, their gazes fixed on the lone figure ahead of them.
Gern Reginald Sigmar still stood upright, his posture rigid. The black blade Bahuang pointed diagonally toward the ground, its once-rampant violet-black lightning now fully extinguished.
"Gern…" Zephyr murmured, his brows drawing together.
Something felt wrong.
Too still.
Too stiff.
Like a statue frozen in time.
Sakazuki narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low voice, "Hey… Gern. Golden Lion's already gone."
No response.
A chill crept into Zephyr's chest. He strode forward quickly and reached out, placing a hand on Gern's shoulder.
"Gern, you—"
The instant he touched him, Gern's body collapsed backward like a puppet with its strings severed.
"—!"
Zephyr caught him just in time.
Gern's eyes were shut. His breathing was faint—barely there.
"He… passed out?" Sakazuki muttered, a rare hesitation creeping into his voice.
Zephyr lowered his head to examine him, his expression dark and complicated.
Gern's palms were torn open, skin split from the strain. The muscles in both arms had suffered severe tearing from overload.
That final strike—Godfall—had drained nearly everything he had.
And yet… even now, his body still clung stubbornly to a battle stance. Even the blade Bahuang had not loosened in his grip.
"From the moment he released that slash… he lost consciousness," Zephyr said quietly."What you saw afterward was just instinct holding him upright."
Sakazuki's pupils shrank slightly.
His gaze drifted to the black blade in Gern's hand. The violet-black patterns along its surface were slowly fading, yet the oppressive aura lingering in the air had not fully dissipated.
"Just… an unconscious body, and a blade moving on instinct…" Sakazuki muttered under his breath."And that was enough to scare Golden Lion into retreating…?"
His voice trembled faintly.
"How terrifying… was that slash really?"
He had never imagined that the man he often joked with, the one he casually bantered beside, could unleash such monstrous power when pushed to the brink of death.
"The reinforcement units will arrive soon."Zephyr hoisted Gern onto his back and turned toward the interior of the base."Contact the medical teams in the evacuation zone."
Sakazuki followed silently, his mind replaying the image again and again—
That moment when Gern swung his blade.The terror in Golden Lion's eyes.That violet-black arc tearing through the heavens.
"Zephyr-sensei…" Sakazuki suddenly spoke."That sword… what exactly is its origin?"
Zephyr slowed slightly—but did not turn back.
"…What are you thinking?" he replied calmly. "Isn't it just Gern's sword?"
Then, his voice hardened.
"And Sakazuki… since obtaining the Magma Fruit, you've grown weaker."
The wind howled violently, sweeping dust and ash across the ground.
"Zephyr-sensei, I—" Sakazuki tried to speak, but Zephyr cut him off sharply.
"Don't let the power of a Devil Fruit blind you."
He continued coldly:
"Look at your Armament Haki. Your Observation Haki.When I arrived—if not for Gern suppressing Golden Lion's Devil Fruit ability—you would've already lost."
Sakazuki's pupils trembled violently.
Memories surged forward—
A sixteen-year-old version of himself kneeling in a dojo, a freshly forged blade resting across his knees.The day he split a massive reef with a Haki-coated slash during graduation.
Those memories overlapped with the scorched magma craters at his feet now.
His hand trembled slightly as he raised it, staring at the calluses—long ignored—of a swordsman.
"You abandoned your blade," Zephyr said quietly, "but that doesn't mean you get to stop walking forward."
"I taught you that, didn't I… Sakazuki?"
Watching Zephyr walk away with Gern on his back, Sakazuki remained rooted in place.
He said nothing.
But deep inside, something long buried began to stir again.
Meanwhile — Inside a Secure Zone of G-3 Base
A man in a gray trench coat slowly lowered his camera. His fingers trembled, sweat beading across his forehead.
As a senior reporter for the World Economy News, he had seen countless major events.
But what he had just witnessed…
Left him breathless.
He had only come to G-3 Base expecting a routine scoop—another pirate capture, maybe a headline-worthy arrest.
At first, he thought it was just the capture of "Island-Splitter" Dorg.
Then Golden Lion attacked the base.
That alone would've been front-page news.
Then Zephyr joined the battlefield.
Still manageable.
But when Gern raised his blade and forced Golden Lion into retreat…
The reporter knew.
What he had just captured wasn't news.
It was history.
He lowered his gaze to the image on his camera.
Frozen within it was the moment Gern swung his blade—violet-black lightning ripping through the heavens, Golden Lion's eyes rolled back in terror as though staring death itself in the face.
"…Did I really… capture this?" he whispered hoarsely.
His throat felt dry.
Slowly, he pulled out a golden Den Den Mushi and dialed a private line.
"Hmm? Did you get anything worthwhile at G-3?"The sleepy, chewing voice of Morgans came through the line."Don't tell me you wasted film on cafeteria food again."
The reporter didn't answer.
"Hey! Talk!"A loud clatter echoed through the receiver—Morgans slamming something down."I told you, if it's not explosive news, don't waste my—"
"Shut up."
There was silence.
The Den Den Mushi's expression shifted sharply as the sound of leather creaking echoed—Morgans sitting upright.
"…What did you say?"
The reporter took a deep breath. His voice trembled—but not with fear.
"With anticipation."
"Chief… prepare to rewrite history."
"This time… the main character isn't a pirate."
A pause.
Then, in a low, trembling voice:
"The world… is about to change."