As Tom descended the long, winding staircase behind Kyle, the air grew cooler and carried a faint, metallic scent. When they finally reached the bottom of the underground facility, the legendary shipwright stopped in his tracks, utterly stunned by the panoramic view before him.
It was a dry dock of unimaginable scale. The cavernous space had been hollowed out from the earth itself, boasting an area easily comparable to several football fields combined. High above, the rocky dome was embedded with countless Light Dials and luminescent stones, flooding the subterranean harbor with a brilliance that rivaled the noon sun.
Around the perimeter, massive cranes, heavy-duty machinery, and precision instruments were organized with military discipline. Some of the tools were familiar to Tom, standard for any high-end shipyard, but others were strange, advanced devices he had never encountered in all his years at Water 7. Yet, despite the impressive array of technology, it was the colossal object suspended in the center of the dry dock that seized his attention and refused to let go.
It was a ship, though calling it a mere ship seemed like an insult.
It was a giant ark, radiating an aura of ancient sanctity and overwhelming majesty. The vessel hung silently in mid-air, defying gravity with an eerie stillness. Enormous golden wings swept back from the hull, and several pairs of large oars extended from its sides like the legs of a slumbering beast. The stern was a complex knot of propulsion devices unlike anything on the Blue Sea, while the bow featured a majestic, golden face of a goddess, her expression serene despite the intimidating size of the craft.
"This... What in the world is this?"
Tom almost dropped the wine glass he had been nursing. His small, round eyes widened behind his glasses, and his jaw practically unhinged. As a Fish-Man who had dedicated his entire life to the art of shipbuilding, he possessed an instinctual understanding of vessels. Just by looking at it, he could feel the sheer weight of technology and power dormant within the golden hull.
It was not designed to be pushed by ocean currents or caught by the wind in canvas sails. It didn't even appear to rely on a conventional steam engine like the sea train, the Puffing Tom. It simply floated there, ignoring the laws of physics, appearing less like a vehicle and more like a self-contained world.
"It... it flies?" Tom's voice trembled. It wasn't fear that shook his deep voice, but the thrill of extreme excitement—the kind an artist feels when seeing a masterpiece.
Kyle stood beside him, watching the shipwright's reaction with a satisfied grin. He looked like a child showing off a secret treasure to his best friend. "That's right. It flies."
"But it's only a half-finished product," Kyle continued, his tone casual. "It barely stays afloat right now with the help of a few Jet Dials, and the main power issue hasn't been fully resolved. I snatched it from a guy who claimed to be a 'god' up in the sky. Of course, the most important thing is... it's incredibly ugly, isn't it?"
"A Flying Ark..." Tom murmured, ignoring Kyle's critique of the aesthetics.
The shipwright moved quickly, his heavy steps echoing as he approached the bottom of the floating behemoth. He stretched out his large, rough hands, stroking the cold, smooth plating of the hull as tenderly as if he were caressing a lover. His eyes gleamed with pure infatuation.
"Incredible... truly incredible design! The structure of these thrusters... I've never seen anything like it! It's insane! This is a ship worthy of a 'Don'!"
Tom ran around the perimeter of the ark like a young apprentice on his first day, tapping the metal plates, inspecting the rivets, and peering into the vents. He constantly exclaimed in wonder, his booming voice filling the dock. "Look at this curvature! And the gold plating... is it conductive? Subarashii! Truly magnificent!"
Kyle didn't disturb him. He simply leaned against a crate and watched with amusement. He knew that for a top-tier craftsman like Tom, discovering a vessel that transcended the technology of the current era was more intoxicating than the finest vintage wine or the largest pile of treasure.
After a long while, Tom finally slowed down, though his enthusiasm hadn't waned in the slightest. He jogged back to Kyle, his face flushed with adrenaline. "Kyle, my boy! What is the meaning of this? Why bring me all the way down here to see this miracle?"
"The meaning is simple." Kyle's playful smile shifted into something more serious. "Uncle Tom, I need you to renovate it. I want you to transform this ark into the strongest, fastest, and most durable ship in the world."
Kyle turned and pointed at the golden ark, his voice imbued with a natural, undeniable Haki that commanded attention. "Power, weaponry, defense, endurance... I want the absolute best in every single category. Money is not an issue. Rare materials are not an issue. Manpower is not an issue. I will give you the highest authority, the best engineering team, and the most abundant resources the world has to offer."
Kyle spread his arms wide, as if trying to embrace the entire dry dock and the future he envisioned. "I want you to build me an ultimate weapon—a flagship that can overturn the world and carry all my ambitions to the very end of the line!"
Tom's heart pounded against his ribs like a war drum.
To surpass the Oro Jackson.
The thought struck his soul like a bolt of lightning. The Oro Jackson had been the pride of his life, a legendary ship built from the Adam Wood that carried Gol D. Roger and his crew to the end of the Grand Line. It was the vessel that realized the Pirate King's dream. And now, Kyle was offering him a chance to create a brand-new legend.
What was a shipwright's ultimate dream? Was it not to use one's own hands to build a ship that would be remembered in history for eternity, praised by generations to come?
"Tahahahaha!"
Tom threw his head back and laughed uproariously, the sound filled with endless pride and fighting spirit. "Kyle! You really know how to challenge a man! You sure know how to give me work to do!"
He pounded his broad chest heavily, the sound reverberating like a gong. "Leave it to me! I, Tom, swear by my name as the world's number one shipwright! I will rebuild this into a ship that even the gods will tremble before! I'll do it with a 'Don'!"
"Very good." A satisfied smile returned to Kyle's face. He could feel that Tom's passion had been completely ignited.
"However," Kyle said, stroking his chin as he changed the subject. "This ship currently has a small problem."
"What problem?" Tom asked immediately, his mind already shifting into work mode. "Is it the keel? The weight distribution?"
"While the design is imaginative, many parts are too crude and impractical for the Blue Sea. But the main issue is the power system... it is a bit unstable," Kyle explained.
"The power system? If it operates on electricity as you implied, is it a generator malfunction? Is the voltage insufficient? Or is the energy conversion rate too low for the thrust required?" Tom rattled off a series of professional questions, his brow furrowed in thought.
"None of those." Kyle's expression became a little strange. "The generator is actually a living being. And he has a terrible temper. Sometimes, he just decides to go on strike."
"A living being?!" Tom was shocked once again, his eyes bulging. "Using a living being as a generator? What kind of fairy tale nonsense is that? That's impossible!"
"Oh, right," Kyle said, clapping his hands together as if he just remembered. "The original owner of this ship, who also happens to be the generator, is being held here. I haven't quite figured out what to do with him yet. How about I take you to meet him?"
A mischievous smirk played on Kyle's lips. He felt that introducing Uncle Tom, a pragmatic and grounded craftsman, to Enel—a man full of delusions about being a divine deity—might produce a very interesting chemical reaction.
"Good! I'll go!" Tom nodded vigorously. "I want to see what kind of creature has the energy output to power a ship of this size!" His curiosity was now fully piqued.
Kyle led Tom away from the ark, guiding him through the massive dry dock toward a more secluded area deeper within the facility. As they walked, the atmosphere shifted. The guards stationed here were noticeably more alert and strict, and the air grew heavy and oppressive.
They finally stopped in front of a heavy containment cell constructed entirely of Seastone.
Through a small, reinforced peephole, they looked into the cell. Inside, a man with remarkably long earlobes sat slumped against the cold stone. He was shackled to the wall with heavy chains made of the same Seastone material. His head was bowed, his expression hidden in the shadows, but the air around him crackled with tension.
As if sensing the commotion outside his prison, the man slowly raised his head.
It was a face defined by extreme arrogance. Despite his captivity, his eyes were filled with disdain, anger, and undisguised killing intent.
"You lowly mortals!"
Enel's voice was hoarse from lack of water, yet it still carried a condescending, majestic tone that demanded obedience.
"How dare you imprison me... I am God! When I get out of here, I will rain down endless lightning upon you! I will turn this tiny island, along with your filthy souls, into nothing but scorched earth!"
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