"Master Doffy… should we increase the security around Green Bit?" Senor's voice broke the heavy silence. His usually carefree demeanor was gone, replaced with the tightness of a man who knew the weight of what they faced. The Donquixote Family was already on full alert, every gear in motion. Whoever had dared to trespass into their home was no ordinary adversary.
Rosinante was already at Coral Port, and Issho had been dispatched there as a precaution—to secure the evacuation zone and prevent the city from becoming a battlefield. But still, Senor's unease lingered.
Doflamingo lounged in his seat, a tall shadow draped in silk and arrogance. The light from the chandelier caught the sharp edges of his sunglasses as he twirled a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn't drinking it—merely watching the amber liquid spiral like a storm contained in crystal.
"No, Senor," he said finally, his voice calm, deliberate. "If we move to reinforce Green Bit, all we'll accomplish is dragging our guest's attention there. And that… is the one thing we cannot afford. That island is far too important. One mistake, and centuries of work are undone."
The words struck like a guillotine, cold and absolute. Senor hesitated, but the question burned too hot to stay unspoken. His jaw tightened before he forced it out.
"Master Doffy… is that really him? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? So how…?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. Then, a sound like threads snapping in the dark.
"Fufufufu…" Doflamingo's laugh slithered through the room, low and mirthless, a predator's chuckle. He leaned back, the glass tilting lazily in his hand, the golden liquid catching the dim light like captured fire.
"This world we live in isn't as simple as you think, Senor," he said, voice dripping with conviction. "Even after everything we've clawed from its depths, after all the truths we've stolen, we've barely brushed the surface. The things we know… the things we believe we know… are nothing but the tip of an iceberg so vast it swallows history itself."
He raised the glass, staring into it as though it held the reflection of that abyss.
"If Rosinante says it's him," Doflamingo continued, his tone sharpening like a blade, "then it's him. No illusions. No tricks."
For a heartbeat, even Senor forgot to breathe.
"But what interests me more…" Doflamingo's grin spread wide, cruel and curious, "…is how. How does a man erased by the World Government, a man buried so deep that even his name was meant to rot in silence… walk back into this world?"
The glass clinked against his teeth as he finally drank, the sound ringing like the toll of a death knell.
****
The room was suffocating. No one spoke, no one dared breathe too loudly. The air itself seemed heavy, as if the walls of Shakky's bar strained beneath the weight of the silent auras pressing against one another. The polished counter between us gleamed in the dim light, a fragile line of civility holding back the storm.
Clang.
Xebec downed the glass of liquor in one gulp and slammed it onto the counter. The sound cracked like a cannonshot in the stillness, making even the glassware on the shelves tremble. His eyes—feral, burning with a madness that once sought to devour the world—bored into me, a predator's grin carving its way across his face.
"Never would I have expected this…" His voice rumbled low, edged with mockery and old scorn.
"A day where a Celestial Dragon bares his fangs at the World Government. Vohahaha… quite the surprise indeed. And yet, here you stand—two brothers who've managed to survive far longer than anyone should have."
With deliberate calm, Xebec placed his saber on the counter. The steel rang as it touched the wood, followed by the heavy thud of his flintlock pistol. He set them down next to my sheathed blades—Akatsuki and Shusui—as though offering silent acknowledgement. At least, until the talks were done, there would be no blood spilled.
Linlin's glare was a storm all its own, daggers of malice in her eyes, but I ignored her entirely. She was not the danger here. My attention remained fixed on the man across the counter—the embodiment of chaos, Rocks D. Xebec.
I smirked back, lifting my own glass as if the weight of his killing intent meant nothing. "Everyone has their reasons for what they do. I imagine you had yours too… when you chose to challenge the World Government back then."
For a heartbeat, the grin on Xebec's lips widened. Then, it vanished. His face hardened into a mask of pride and fury, his aura surging like a tidal wave pressing down on the entire room. The shelves behind Shakky rattled; the glasses quivered as though they might shatter under the strain. Even Rayleigh, standing silently at Shakky's side, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
"Vohahahaha!" Xebec's laughter exploded, raw and thunderous, shaking the air. But it wasn't amusement—it was challenge, contempt wrapped in sound. His gaze sharpened, cutting into me with the weight of his legacy.
"So you think yourself clever, brat? A know-it-all who can peer into history and weigh the choices of men who shook the heavens?" His voice dropped, venomous now, pride like fire in every syllable.
"You don't know the first damn thing about this world. You and your ilk—you're nothing but headless chickens, running blind. North, south, east, west—you grasp at power with no understanding of the truth that lies beneath it all."
The air crackled. It felt as though the bar itself might split apart, unable to contain the collision of wills. Shakky's cigarette burned low, smoke curling upward like the last thread of calm holding everything together.
And still, I met Xebec's fury with an unshaken smirk, the storm in his eyes crashing against the silence in mine. A powder keg, waiting for a single spark.
The man seated across from me radiated an aura of overwhelming dominance, his mere presence bending the atmosphere like an oppressive storm. His sharp gaze never wavered, eyes gleaming with the hunger of a predator who had long since forgotten what it meant to doubt himself. This was no ordinary pirate. This was a monster of an age gone by, and he had the audacity to appear in my domain, in my home, sitting there as if the world belonged to him.
"Xebec…!" My voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. "Let's skip the theatrics. I'm not comfortable with someone like you sitting here in my home, staring down at us like we're some upstarts begging for scraps. So either you tell me exactly why you're here… or you get the hell out."
I refused to play this back-and-forth game he seemed to enjoy. Whatever schemes churned in that twisted mind of his, I wasn't about to dance to his tune. Did he truly believe we were naïve? That we were just fools chasing after power, pawns scrambling for crumbs under someone else's hand?
His lip curled into a mocking smile. "Rude brat… but I'll humor you, since you've at least got the courage to bark in my face." He leaned forward, his tone lowering into something sharp and commanding. "Join me, Rosinante. Join me in my grand design—my dream of bringing this entire world to heel. By the time this is done, we will walk this earth as gods. Absolute. Unchallenged. Eternal."
There was no sincerity in his voice. Not even the faintest shred. His words weren't an invitation, but an order—a master commanding a subordinate, as though the choice was inevitable.
A laugh tore itself from my chest. At first a chuckle, then a shrill crescendo that filled the room and bounced off the walls until the entire bar seemed to shake from the sound.
"Hahahahaha!"
I rose to my feet, eyes narrowing as my laughter faded into scorn. "Do we look like mutts to you, Xebec? Do you think we'd wag our tails and bow to your scraps of promises? Or maybe…" My grin widened, sharp as a blade. "…maybe you've started to overestimate yourself."
I leaned forward, letting the words cut deep. "So tell me—what if I say no? What then? What exactly do you think you're going to do?"
The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive, broken only by the faint creak of wood beneath us. Then came his response—low, dark, and dripping with malice.
"Vohahahaha… brat, I think you've misunderstood something." His gaze sharpened, his voice like a serrated blade dragging across bone. "I didn't come here to offer you a choice. Do you really want to know what happens if you refuse me?"
He leaned back casually, as though my home was his throne room. "Tell me, Rosinante… would Dressrosa still stand when I'm finished? How many of your precious family would crawl out of the ashes alive? You think too small. Those weaklings outside, those toys you call citizens… they're not the only ones I can reach. Family, blood, bonds… they are weaknesses, and you have many. Sooner or later, you'll start receiving little pieces of news from the farthest corners of this sea. That one less family member is breathing. Then another. And another."
The threat was blatant, sharp, and cruel. The kind of cruelty that comes naturally to someone with nothing left to lose.
I understood perfectly. Even if Xebec couldn't take me down directly, he could still strike where it hurt. My family, my home, my people—they were easy prey for a man who saw morality as nothing but shackles to be broken. And in that moment, I should have burst into rage, screaming, ready to carve him apart for daring to threaten what I hold dear.
But I didn't. Instead, I inhaled deeply, slow and steady. The silence was deafening as I stood, hands moving with calm precision. Shusui and Akatsuki glimmered faintly in the dim light as I secured both blades at my waist. Then I spoke, my voice low, dangerous, and dripping with disdain.
"How low you've fallen, Xebec."
His eyes twitched.
"For a man who once walked into Mariejois itself and challenged Imu face-to-face. For a man whose first act as a rookie was slaying an Admiral…" My voice rose, steady, storm-like. "…you've fallen pathetically far. Since when did you lose your spine?"
The words struck like thunder. A taboo broken, a wound reopened. His expression faltered. For the first time, Rocks D. Xebec looked shaken. Because I said it. I said that name.
Imu.
He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected me to know. That this brat standing before him, in this ruined bar, was already crossing blades with the invisible god of the World Government.
"What's wrong, Xebec?" I sneered. "Did you think I wouldn't know about Imu? Did you think you were the only one with the knowledge of the secrets of the World Government? I know much more than you imagine…much more than you could possibly imagine, Rocks D. Xebec…or wait…should I call you by your true name—Davy D. Xebec?"
The words detonated in the air like cannon fire.
The stool beneath him shattered as he shot to his feet, fury igniting in his eyes. His hand darted toward the saber at the counter, intent on silencing me before I could say another word. But I was already moving.
Before his blade could clear its sheath, my hand slammed down on his, pinning it to the counter. My eyes bore into his with a cold fury.
"And I'm not the only one with a family, am I, Xebec?" My voice was calm, almost whisper-soft, but it carried the weight of thunder. "What makes you think I won't sever your son's head and gift-wrap it for you? We can play this game too, Xebec. So don't you dare threaten me with my family ever again."
The moment the words left my mouth, the world shattered. The air ruptured as Xebec's rage exploded outward in an overwhelming burst of Conqueror's Haki. The entire upper floor of Shakky's bar tore itself apart, wood splintering and walls crumbling as his will tried to devour everything in its path.
A secret he believed buried for eternity had just been dragged into the light by a so-called brat—and then I had threatened his blood. It broke something inside him. For the first time in decades, Rocks D. Xebec lost control.
But I did not falter. From deep within me, my own will surged outward, a monstrous wave of Conqueror's Haki roaring to life with equal ferocity. Our powers collided violently, shaking the heavens themselves.
In an instant, Shakky's bar ceased to exist, disintegrated in the maelstrom of our clash.
Rayleigh, Shakky, and even Linlin reacted instinctively, retreating hundreds of meters away with weapons drawn, their instincts screaming at them to stay clear of the battlefield.
The sky above Dressrosa split open, black clouds spiraling into a vortex as lightning carved across the heavens. The sea trembled violently, waves crashing against the shores as if the ocean itself sought to flee from the battlefield.
Two forgotten powers of the old age had risen once more, colliding head-on in a storm of pure willpower. The gods of old had returned.
Our domains of supreme Haki clashed ruthlessly, each wave pressing, tearing, and devouring the other. It was no longer a contest of strength, but of existence itself. To the world, at this moment, only two beings remained—myself and Xebec.
Every weak-willed civilian in Dressrosa collapsed instantly, foaming at the mouth, unable to comprehend the force pressing down upon their souls. Soldiers and pirates alike fell to their knees, clutching their chests as though the very essence of life was being strangled out of them.
Above us, the heavens screamed. Below us, the seas shuddered.
"Does it anger you, Xebec?" I roared, voice carrying through the storm. My eyes burned with unshakable defiance as my will pushed against his. "Tell me! How does it feel when someone threatens your family?!"
The collision of our conqueror's wills reached its peak, a clash so immense that the very world seemed to bend under the weight of it. The storm above Dressrosa was no mere weather—it was the herald of gods at war. And in that storm, we stood—two titans of the old and new ages, daring the world to witness.
****
The ground trembled beneath the titans gathered at Coral Port. The air stank of steel and will, the cries of collapsing civilians still echoing from the earlier clash.
"Mamamama!" The laughter boomed like cannon fire, shaking windows from their frames. Charlotte Linlin's enormous frame towered above the wreckage, her saber already unsheathed, gleaming with a vicious golden light. Soul-flame danced along its edge, merging with her Armament Haki until it looked less like a blade and more like the very judgment of hell itself.
Her hungry gaze fixed upon Xebec's back further away as she roared. "So then, you don't mind if I burn this island to ash, do you, Xebec? You and that brat seem… occupied." Her voice was syrup and venom, thick with bloodlust.
But when her eyes drifted across the battlefield, her grin faltered. Rayleigh stood calmly with his blade already unsheathed, his posture relaxed yet absolute, like a wall between her and her chosen prey.
"You bastard…" Linlin snarled, tightening her grip on her blade. "We've got old scores to settle, you and I."
Yet even as she spoke, something tugged at the edge of her senses. Her Observation Haki flared, tingling at the base of her skull. Something vast… something immense was coming. She wasn't the only one who felt it—every warrior in Coral Port suddenly faltered. Even the remnants of the Donquixote underlings, hardened killers all, began retreating like rats sensing a flood. The blind swordsman, the only one whom she considered a decent challenge, who had been lingering at the periphery, bowed his head, quietly stepping back.
Then they all understood.
The air warped as thousands upon thousands of threads shot outward, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. From the heavens they rained down, anchoring themselves into the earth, into the sea, into the very bones of the port itself.
In seconds, Coral Port was no longer a port—it was a cage.
A massive dome of strings encircled the town, stretching high into the clouds and plunging deep into the earth, each thread humming with lethal intent. The Birdcage. Every path of escape sealed. Every breath monitored by the puppeteer above.
Linlin blinked, then laughed, a booming, guttural cackle. "MAMAMAMA! A cage? A fancy little net? Do you think this can stop monsters like us?!" Her saber flared, eager to carve through.
But her laughter halted as she noticed Rayleigh. The Dark King exhaled, sliding his blade fully into its scabbard. His eyes softened, his stance relaxed. He wasn't preparing for her anymore.
Linlin frowned. "What is this? Giving up already, you bastard…?"
Rayleigh smirked, his lips quirking into a small, almost amused smile. "Heh. Your opponent isn't me, Linlin."
Both his and Shakky's gazes shifted past her, to the shattered street behind. The ground trembled.
Then—crack.
The cobblestones split apart, red lightning crawling across the pavement in jagged veins. Each step was slow, deliberate, heavy with intent, shattering the earth beneath his heels.
From the smoke and ruin emerged a figure.
Donquixote Doflamingo.
His presence was suffocating. His body wreathed in purple-black flames that curled and danced like the tongues of some unholy inferno, each flicker hungry to consume. Flames rippled from his fingers, razor-thin yet glowing with a sinister energy, cutting faint gashes into the very air around him.
But it was his hands that drew every gaze.
His fists blazed with searing fire, the knuckles clad in jagged gauntlets of condensed seastone essence—spiked, gleaming, and humming with murderous promise. Carefully wrapped, insulated to avoid his own devil fruit's bane, but designed to crush those who relied on powers beyond the sea's mercy. Each movement of his fingers dripped with lethal precision.
He was no longer a man. He was a demon.
And he walked forward with the arrogance of one who already owned the battlefield. The flames roared louder with every step. The pavement cracked and collapsed in his wake, purplish-black flame lashing outward like serpents eager to bite. His sunglasses caught the flickering firelight, reflecting back only emptiness.
He stopped only a few paces from Linlin, towering in his own right, and tilted his head, that signature grin stretching wide.
Rayleigh's hand hovered near his blade, but he didn't move. Shakky's eyes narrowed, her cigarette trembling just slightly between her lips. The underlings scattered further back. Even Linlin's soul-flame flickered uneasily for a moment.
"Mamamama…" she chuckled, though her grin was tight now, her fingers flexing around her saber. "So you finally decide to show yourself. I was beginning to wonder where you were hiding."
The flames around Doflamingo surged higher, red lightning spiraling into the air.
Linlin's eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "So, you think you can beat me, do you? Last time, I'll admit, I underestimated that little brat. That cursed brother of yours, and that blade… tch." Her grin widened into a beast's snarl. "But this time? I'll carve that smile off your face myself. Serving your head on a platter to your brother might just sate my anger."
She turned fully to face him now, saber raised, her soul-flame roaring. And Doflamingo stood before her, wrapped in strings and hellfire, spiked gauntlets gleaming, red lightning shattering the world beneath his feet. Not a man. Not even a pirate. But a demon descended to the mortal realm.
"DOFLAMINGO!"
Linlin's roar shook the heavens. Her titanic frame surged forward, every step exploding the earth beneath her heels. Golden soul-flames wrapped her entire body, rising like the wrathful pyre of some forgotten goddess. With each stride, her Conqueror's Haki poured outward, an unrelenting tsunami of will that threatened to drown everything in its path. The very air quaked under her presence, suffocating, absolute.
But before her, unmoved and unyielding, stood Doflamingo.
The purplish-black flames wrapped tighter around his body, climbing higher and higher until they blotted out the stars above him. His aura was no wave, no fleeting storm—it was an anchor. An immovable, immovable force, a mountain of will that refused to bend. His Conqueror's Haki erupted outward, dense and sharp, colliding with Linlin's in a storm of screaming energy.
The heavens ruptured.
Where their wills collided, the sky cracked open in streaks of red and pink lightning, splitting clouds and tearing a massive crater into the port. For hundreds of meters in every direction, the earth ruptured inward, stone and steel collapsing as if the island itself had been punched by the gods.
"DIIIIE!" Linlin bellowed, swinging her weapon down in a crushing arc. Her saber, wreathed in golden fire and black Armament, sang with death itself. But it did not find flesh.
Instead, it met a fist. A fist clad in fire and Armament Haki, jagged with spiked seastone knuckles, wrapped in purplish flames that shrieked like tortured souls. The collision was apocalyptic.
BOOOOOOM!
The shockwave tore through Coral Port, flattening entire rows of buildings, uprooting ships from the harbor and hurling them skyward like toys. The earth beneath their feet splintered into a yawning chasm, swallowing the streets whole.
And in the center of it all stood two monsters, locked in deadlock, neither yielding an inch.
Doflamingo's grin widened, savage and unholy. His laughter cut through the chaos, high-pitched and venomous. "Fufufufufu… Let's see it then, Linlin. Let's see if I can truly grant you the gift of death today!"
Their auras began to shift. Linlin's soul-flame surged higher, wrapping around her like molten gold until her Conqueror's Haki took form. Behind her, rising from her aura, the silhouette of a colossal figure materialized. A giant. No, an ancient giant of the old, towering, armored in fire and shadow, each movement rattling the heavens. Its eyes glowed like suns, its roar shaking the very bones of the island. It mirrored Linlin's every movement, its massive saber cleaving down alongside her own.
And opposite her, Doflamingo's aura contorted into something far more sinister. The purplish flames wrapped into a skeletal crown, a burning skull rising above his shoulders like the visage of a hell-lord. Blackened wings of sinew and flame unfurled, their edges dripping with sparks of crimson lightning. His ethereal form was that of a demon king, a ruler of the abyss itself, each step sending ripples of dread through the battlefield. Its skeletal grin burned with fire, its claws clenched into fists of molten fury.
The Giant of the Old and the Demon of Hell clashed above their masters, their colossal weapons slamming together in an ethereal storm that mirrored the battle below. Their roars shook the seas, their strikes carved the air itself. The sky itself split open.