Sengoku and Kong had summoned Momonga from the North Blue to report in person.
Darren's heart gave a single, heavy thud. For an instant, surprise flickered across his face—but just as quickly, it was gone. His expression returned to its calm, unreadable mask.
Outwardly composed, his mind raced.
If Sengoku had called Momonga in, it could only mean one thing: he wanted the full story behind the North Blue battle. The truth.
Sengoku was too sharp, too perceptive to believe Darren had defeated the Golden Lion single-handedly. Even among the Marines' top brass, there was no one who didn't understand how powerful Shiki had been in his prime.
So what was Sengoku's intention? Suspicion? Curiosity? Or had he discovered something more dangerous?
Darren's brow furrowed.
The secrets of the North Blue Fleet could never be exposed. That fleet was his ultimate safeguard—his hidden blade against the unpredictable tides of this world.
A flying armada, capable of long-term operations and devastating military power, was a weapon no other force could match.
And after incorporating Germa 66's advanced technology, the fleet had evolved beyond even his expectations. They no longer relied solely on Darren's Magnet-Magnet Fruit for flight—their propulsion now ran on mechanical engines, powered through Momonga's Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
That breakthrough changed everything. The North Blue Fleet could now operate freely, even without Darren's presence. Its reach extended across oceans, its strength unbound by distance or dependence.
The Golden Lion hunt had proven just how unstoppable that force could be.
Equipped with heavy artillery, advanced weaponry, and unmatched mobility, the fleet was no longer just a military branch—it was a strategic deterrent, a power capable of influencing the balance of the entire Grand Line.
And now that Golden Lion's death had left the skies empty, Darren's fleet stood as the only Flying Fleet in the world.
He didn't distrust Sengoku as a man.
He distrusted the institution itself.
The Marines were a branch of the World Government, and the Government's shadow stretched endlessly over them all. No matter how high one climbed, that truth never changed.
He might hold prestige now—his name rising through the ranks, his reputation shining brighter than ever—but how long would it last?
One misstep. One careless slip. The truth of his crime—the murder of a Celestial Dragon—could surface at any time.
And deep down, Darren knew himself too well. That wasn't the last Celestial Dragon whose blood he would spill. Sooner or later, his blade would be raised against them again. It was inevitable.
When that day came, no amount of loyalty, merit, or power would save him.
Even a man like Zephyr—once a pillar of the Marines—had been betrayed, broken, and discarded by the very institution he'd devoted his life to.
That was the fate of those who trusted the system too much.
Which was why the North Blue Fleet had to remain hidden. His final trump card. His contingency for the day the world turned against him.
Still, Darren forced himself to breathe, to think clearly.
No… Sengoku isn't being malicious. Not this time.
At least for now, his strategic foresight and results were still invaluable to Headquarters. The questioning of Momonga was likely a matter of protocol—a cautious inquiry, not an inquisition.
Even so, he couldn't let Momonga face Sengoku and Kong's combined scrutiny alone.
Momonga had become more worldly, more politically adept since taking command of the North Blue—but those two? They were living embodiments of authority. Their very presence could crush a man's resolve.
I need to divert their attention… and fast.
His decision was made in an instant.
Though a thousand thoughts swirled through his mind, outwardly, Darren's smile was calm, almost amused. "If Admiral Sengoku wanted to ask about the North Blue, he could have done so directly," he said lightly. "Why trouble Momonga to come all this way—"
But before he could finish, the color drained from his face. His words cut off as his body convulsed, and a violent cough wracked his frame.
He doubled over—then a torrent of thick, dark blood burst from his mouth.
It splattered across the crisp white sheets, spreading like crimson ink through snow.
His face twisted in agony, his breathing faltered, and the life monitors beside him began to shriek.
"Hey! Darren, what's wrong?! Somebody get the doctor—now!"
Tokikake's voice cracked in panic, his eyes wide with horror. "He's coughing up blood! I think he's dying!"
Then, absurdly, his voice rose in despair. "If he kicks the bucket, I'll lose my VIP card privileges!"
The alarm blared louder, echoing through the ward.
Within seconds, the door burst open and a flood of doctors and nurses stormed in, shouting orders over one another.
"The patient's vitals are crashing!"
"Quickly, start the IV!"
"His wound's reopened—blood pressure unstable!"
"Get the sutures ready!"
"What?! The needle won't go in—his skin's too dense!"
The staff froze in disbelief for a heartbeat before diving back into the chaos.
"Vice Admiral Darren's condition is deteriorating—fast!"
"His EKG's all over the place! I've never seen readings like this!"
The screen beside the bed flickered wildly, the lines spiking and plunging erratically, pulsing with an unnatural rhythm.
"Impossible…" whispered one of the surgeons. "These vitals make no sense. What is happening to him?"
Darren's body shuddered. His eyelids fluttered, lips trembling, pupils dilating. Another gush of blood escaped his mouth, staining his chest.
"Vice Admiral Borsalino, please step back," barked the chief surgeon. "We need space—he's in critical condition!"
"No problem at all…"
Borsalino's drawl drifted lazily through the tension. He stepped back, that same unreadable smirk curling on his face as his gaze lingered on Darren.
Then, as if struck by a passing thought, he turned to the frantic Tokikake. "Commodore, you might want to inform Admiral Sengoku. Quickly."
Tokikake froze, eyes wide, then nodded so hard his cap nearly fell off. "Y-yes! I'll tell him right now! Vice Admiral Borsalino—you'll vouch for me, right?! I didn't do anything!"
"I just came here to sneak some fruit, that's all. Whatever's happening to Darren—it's got nothing to do with me."
With that, Tokikake bolted off like a streak of lightning, sprinting straight toward the Fleet Admiral's Office.
As he ran, he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the corridor—
"Darren's dying!!"
To be continued...