The night was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the sea breeze sweeping across G-3 Base. The salty air carried a chill, slipping through the open windows and brushing against the silent walls.
Most of the base had long since fallen into stillness. The rhythmic sound of soldiers' boots echoed faintly across the empty corridors, patrols carrying out their duties like clockwork.
Yet in the commander's office, light still burned.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The clear sound of knuckles against wood broke the silence.
Hibari balanced a large tray carefully atop her head, the aroma of freshly prepared food drifting through the hall. Sanji had stayed up to make this late-night meal, and Hibari carried it with her usual quiet diligence.
From inside, Renn Hawk's voice answered, hoarse from long hours of discussion.
She pushed open the door, only to pause, caught off guard by the scene before her.
The spacious office was lit brightly, every inch of the massive desk covered in documents, charts, and scattered drafts. Hawk and Zephyr were hunched side by side over the mess, their voices low but intense, as though they had been speaking without pause for hours.
It was a sight Hibari had never imagined: the sharp, stoic Renn Hawk and the legendary former admiral Zephyr, both utterly absorbed in piles of reforms and theories rather than weapons and battlefields.
She set the tray down gently on the side table, not daring to disturb them. Her eyes wandered across the documents closest to her, scanning the titles:
"G-3 Military Reform Proposal."
"Psychological Assessment Model for Navy Recruits, Version 1.2."
"Merit-Based Promotion System Using Quantitative Analysis."
"Trinity Squad Combat Coordination Manual."
And beside those manuals lay an even heavier dossier: "G-3 Soldier Compensation and Welfare Guarantee Plan." Pages inside outlined with chilling precision the different salaries, benefits, vacation times, and performance bonuses for every rank and post.
But Hibari's gaze was drawn to the paper trembling in Zephyr's hand.
He read it so intently that his entire body seemed tense. His good hand trembled slightly, fingertips brushing the cover as though it bore the weight of the world.
The bold title read: "Integrated Navy Family Welfare System."
Zephyr's breath hitched.
He opened the file slowly, and each line he read was like a blade piercing straight into the softest, most wounded part of his heart.
"For fallen soldiers, their immediate family members parents, spouses, and children will receive the Navy's highest pension benefits for life, paid monthly until their natural passing."
"The honors of the deceased may be converted into merit points, allowing their families priority access to housing in Navy-protected communities."
"For soldiers permanently injured or disabled, if unable to continue active service, they may transfer into Navy logistics departments while maintaining equal rank and salary, ensuring their livelihood remains secure."
Zephyr's hand lingered over the lines, trembling harder with each word. The cold precision of policy somehow carried a warmth more powerful than any speech.
Images surged in his mind unbidden: the smile of his wife, the laughter of his son. Memories he had buried under decades of discipline tore free, raw and unbearable.
His throat tightened.
"Hawk…"
His voice cracked, almost breaking. "This system… it's already being used here? In G-3?"
Only someone who had endured the gutting agony of loss could understand what these guarantees meant. To a soldier who devoted his very life to justice, this was not just money.
It was dignity. It was recognition.
It was the strength for a man to face death with a steady heart, knowing his family would never be abandoned.
Renn Hawk looked back at him, his tone sharp and resolute.
"I believe a soldier can only give his heart on the battlefield when he has no fear for those he leaves behind. We must make it clear to them and their families that their sacrifice will never be forgotten."
He paused, his voice carrying like iron.
"The Navy will always be their unshakable pillar."
A thunderclap seemed to roar inside Zephyr's skull.
Loyalty. Training. Belief. Honor. Support.
All the scattered fragments of military life he had preached for decades here they were, unified, systemized, bound into an unbreakable structure. Hawk had built not just reforms, but a vision of an army that could endure for generations.
Zephyr's long-held doctrines wavered, crumbling under the weight of this revelation.
He understood now why Sengoku called Hawk "the future of the Navy."
He understood why Sakazuki saw him as the natural heir to the hawkish faction.
This young man's mind… the sheer scope of his ideas was more terrifying than his monstrous combat strength.
"No wonder…" Zephyr whispered, voice low with awe. "No wonder you've trained soldiers like no other…"
His composure finally snapped. He leaned forward urgently, eyes alight.
"Boy, quickly! Tell me more about this… this 'Post-Battle Psychological Trauma Intervention System'! Explain it in detail, now!"
Hibari stepped forward gently, her voice a soft reminder against the storm of ideas.
"Big brother… teacher… maybe eat something first."
She slid the steaming plates of food in front of them. Only then did Hawk and Zephyr jolt back to themselves, realizing how long the night had stretched. They ate hastily, though their mouths barely paused between bites and words, their discussion blazing on as they scribbled notes and debated.
Watching Zephyr hunched over, pen scratching furiously as if racing against time itself, Hawk felt an unexpected pang deep in his chest.
He knew this man's story.
In the world he remembered, Zephyr's family had been slaughtered by vengeful pirates. His beloved students, massacred by the very Warlords the Navy had empowered. His body broken, his arm lost.
In the end, disillusioned and betrayed, Zephyr abandoned the Navy, declaring war on every pirate in the world only to die at the hands of one of his former pupils.
What a tragic, magnificent life.
But Hawk clenched his fist under the table.
Not this time.
He looked out the window, the horizon paling as the first streaks of dawn brushed against the endless sea.
Since you've come to G-3, old man Zephyr, things will be different. The Navy's dark currents are already shifting. The warped system of the Seven Warlords will soon collapse. And your tragedy… will never be repeated.
The chill of the night receded as the sun's glow crept upward.
Now, G-3 stood fortified with five elite Vice Admirals from headquarters. With Zephyr personally overseeing new recruit training, the base's strength would only multiply with each passing year. Dane would manage its day-to-day affairs with meticulous order, turning the base into an unshakable bastion.
The rear lines were secure.
Renn Hawk's gaze hardened, cold fire flickering in his eyes.
"It's time I set out again."
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