The carefully orchestrated plan to eliminate Eren before he could transform had failed spectacularly, and the implications of that failure were only beginning to sink in among the surviving enemy. The supernatural resurrection they had witnessed defied every conventional understanding of Devil Fruit abilities, raising uncomfortable questions about what other impossible power their target might possess.
"Eren," Nami said, her voice still shaky as she processed what she had witnessed, "I saw your brain matter scattered across the snow. There was a hole completely through your skull. How are you even standing here, let alone talking to us normally?"
The navigator's medical knowledge was limited, but she understood enough about human anatomy to know that the injuries she had observed should have been instantly and permanently fatal. The sight of grey matter mixed with blood and bone fragments would haunt her dreams for weeks to come.
"My Devil Fruit ability allows me to transfer my consciousness throughout my body," Eren explained, his tone carrying the weight of someone who had learned to live with extraordinary circumstances. "As long as the damage doesn't destroy me instantly and completely, I can survive injuries that would kill normal people. It's a technique I developed through... previous experiences with life-threatening situations."
The explanation was deliberately incomplete, skirting around the complex metaphysics of his true nature while providing enough information to satisfy immediate curiosity. He had indeed learned this particular survival technique from observing the Armored Titan's tactics during their confrontations, adapting the consciousness-transfer method to his own unique physiology.
"You could say my awareness is scattered throughout my body.," he continued. "Instead of keeping all my vital functions centered in obvious locations like the brain and heart, I can relocate them throughout my body. Snipers target what they assume are critical points, but my actual vulnerable areas shift constantly."
The implications were staggering. Traditional assassination methods would prove useless against someone who could relocate their consciousness at will, making Eren virtually immune to conventional surprise attacks.
"Does that mean you're immortal?" Chopper asked with a mixture of fascination and concern, his medical mind struggling to reconcile this information with everything he had learned about biology.
"Not immortal," Eren replied honestly. "If someone destroys enough of my body simultaneously—say, with overwhelming explosive force or total incineration—I'll die just like anyone else. But single-point attacks, even to supposedly vital areas, won't stop me."
The sound of approaching combat grew steadily louder as thousands of Baroque Works operatives made landfall along Drum Island's coastline. The sight was genuinely intimidating—wave after wave of armed bounty hunters, mercenaries, and career criminals flooding onto the winter island with military precision.
"There are so many of them," Usopp groaned from his position propped against a snowbank, his injured shoulder making movement difficult. "Even if we fought non-stop for hours, we couldn't handle a fraction of these numbers."
His pessimism was understandable given their tactical situation, but it also threatened to undermine the crew's morale at a critical moment. The sight of thousands of enemies would intimidate anyone, but dwelling on the impossibility of their situation wouldn't help them find a solution.
"Leave the rank-and-file soldiers to me," Eren said with quiet confidence, his hand already reaching for the bag of Rumble Balls that Chopper had provided. "With these, I should be able to become something powerful enough to level the playing field."
He began separating the spherical pills from the bag, his expression growing more serious with each one he selected. "Everyone needs to get as far away from me as possible. What I'm about to do... it's going to be dangerous for anyone in the immediate vicinity."
The warning carried enough gravity to make even Luffy take notice. Their rubber-powered captain had seen Eren's attack titan form in action and understood that any enhanced version would involve exponentially greater destructive potential.
"How far is 'far enough'?" Zoro asked pragmatically, already calculating evacuation routes while keeping one eye on the approaching enemy forces.
"Several kilometers at minimum," Eren replied, causing everyone's eyes to widen with alarm. "This isn't going to be a precision strike—I'm about to become something that exists primarily to cause massive area damage."
Meanwhile, the leading elements of the Baroque Works assault force had begun spreading across Drum Island's snowy landscape with the confidence of soldiers who believed numerical superiority guaranteed victory. Their casual conversations revealed the typical mindset of mercenaries who viewed this operation as easy money rather than a serious military engagement.
"Hope these Straw Hat Pirates don't run away before we get our hands on them," one bounty hunter called to his companions while checking his weapon. "I need the reward money to pay off some gambling debts."
"Did you see those women on their ship?" another added with obvious lecherous intent. "Maybe we can have some fun with them before turning them in for the bounty. Been too long since we had decent entertainment."
"The big shots can handle the high-value targets," a third mercenary agreed. "Plenty of smaller fish for us to split amongst ourselves. This is going to be the easiest payday we've ever had."
Their crude banter reflected the fundamental mistake that many criminals made when facing the Straw Hat Pirates—underestimating their targets based on bounty amounts and crew size rather than actual combat capabilities. The tragedy for these particular mercenaries was that they would never live long enough to learn from their error in judgment.
Van Augur, whose sniper instincts made him more perceptive than his allies, suddenly raised his rifle toward the sky with sharp focus. "Movement incoming from above. Single target, airborne approach."
The assembled criminals followed his gaze upward, many assuming they were about to witness Eren's titan transformation as he attempted some kind of aerial assault. The strategy seemed flawed—even a twenty-meter giant couldn't effectively engage thousands of dispersed enemies, and once surrounded, he would become vulnerable to concentrated firepower from multiple directions.
What they failed to understand was that Eren had no intention of engaging them in conventional combat.
High above the battlefield, Luffy's "Gomu Gomu no Bazooka" had launched Eren toward the center of the enemy formation with tremendous force. The impact of the rubber-powered attack had likely broken several of his ribs, but that physical damage was irrelevant compared to what he was about to unleash.
As he flew through the frigid air, Eren placed three Rumble Balls into his mouth and bit down decisively. The enhancement drugs dissolved on his tongue with a bitter, medicinal taste that immediately began triggering radical changes throughout his physiology.
As he tore through the frigid air, Eren shoved three Rumble Balls into his mouth and bit down without hesitation. The bitter, medicinal taste spread across his tongue, triggering rapid, violent shifts in his physiology.
The truth, however, was that he didn't need the Rumble Balls at all. This was Kaito's design. His master had calculated the psychological impact of the performance, ensuring that the spectacle of Eren consuming Chopper's enhancement drug would draw shock and awe. Enemies would assume that this artificial catalyst was essential for his transformation, never realizing it was nothing more than misdirection—a carefully planted weakness meant to mislead them.
In his mind's eye, he could see the faces of fallen comrades from another world—Armin Arlert, whose strategic brilliance had helped humanity survive against impossible odds; Bertholdt Hoover, whose mastery of the Colossal Titan's power had once terrorized his enemies but ultimately served a greater purpose. Their memories and experiences flowed through him, providing the emotional foundation for what was about to occur.
"Forgive me," he whispered to the wind, knowing that what came next would haunt him regardless of its tactical necessity. "But some battles can only be won through overwhelming force."
The transformation began while he was still airborne, golden lightning crackling around his falling form as his body underwent changes that defied every law of physics and biology.
Instead of the familiar twenty-meter Attack Titan, something far larger and more terrible began to take shape.
A miniature sun seemed to ignite in the sky above Drum Island as the Colossal Titan's emergence released energy that had been building for months within Eren's supernatural physiology.
The flash of light that accompanied the transformation was visible from hundreds of kilometers away, a golden brilliance that briefly outshone the actual sun before resolving into something far more ominous.
The mercenaries closest to the transformation's epicenter simply ceased to exist. The initial energy release vaporized everything within a two-kilometer radius, turning human beings into component atoms before they could even register what was happening to them. They died without pain, without fear, without any awareness that their lives had ended.
Those farther from the center faced a more prolonged but equally inevitable fate. The expanding shockwave that followed the initial flash carried enough force to shatter bedrock and boil seawater, creating a expanding ring of devastation that consumed everything in its path.
The explosion's roar was audible across half the Grand Line, a sound like the world itself screaming in protest against the unnatural forces being unleashed. The mushroom cloud that rose from Drum Island's transformed coastline resembled the aftermath of the most powerful weapons ever conceived, a pillar of fire and steam that climbed toward the stratosphere.
Even the Straw Hat Pirates, positioned several kilometers away from ground zero, found themselves struggling against hurricane-force winds that threatened to sweep them into the ocean. They pressed themselves against rock faces and tree trunks, shouting unheard warnings to each other as debris rained down from the sky.
"What kind of monster did we just unleash?" Sanji yelled over the howling wind, his words barely audible even to himself.
"I can't see anything!" Nami screamed back, tears streaming from her eyes as she struggled against the overwhelming sensory assault.
The devastation continued for nearly ten minutes before the immediate effects began to subside, leaving behind a transformed landscape that bore no resemblance to its previous appearance. Where pristine snow and rocky coastline had existed moments before, a scene of apocalyptic destruction now stretched toward the horizon.
When the smoke and steam finally began to clear, a figure of impossible size stood at the center of the devastation. The Colossal Titan rose one hundred meters into the air, its massive frame dwarfing anything the assembled criminals had ever imagined possible.
The creature's appearance combined familiar elements of Eren's Attack Titan with terrifying new characteristics. Pointed ears marked it as unmistakably his transformation, but the sheer scale defied comprehension. Each of its fingers was longer than most buildings, and its footsteps left craters deep enough to serve as small lakes.
Steam continued to rise from its exposed musculature, creating an aura of heat distortion that made the titan appear to flicker between dimensions. Its eyes, each the size of a ship's sail, surveyed the devastation below with an expression that seemed almost sorrowful despite the destruction it had caused.
"Armin," the Colossal Titan spoke in a voice that resonated across the entire island, "is this the scene you witnessed in your memories? The price of freedom written in fire and blood?"
The landscape below told a story of complete annihilation. The entire coastline had been carved away by the explosion, leaving behind a steaming crater filled with superheated seawater. What had once been hundreds of ships was now floating debris scattered across an area measured in square kilometers.
Of the five thousand elite bounty hunters who had landed with such confidence mere minutes earlier, not a single intact body remained. The weaker individuals had been completely vaporized, while even the strongest had been reduced to scattered fragments that provided no hope of identification.
The forest fires ignited by the blast created a sharp visual contrast against the pristine snow of the island's interior, painting the landscape in alternating bands of orange flame and white powder that seemed to represent the fundamental opposition between creation and destruction.
Yet even in the face of such overwhelming devastation, some had managed to survive.
Movement in the shattered landscape caught the Colossal Titan's attention—a growing patch of sand emerging from beneath the blast-scorched earth. The sand spread quickly, covering an area more than fifty meters across before disgorging its hidden passengers.
More than a dozen figures emerged from the subterranean sanctuary, their clothing torn and singed but their bodies largely intact. At their center stood Crocodile, his Logia Suna Suna no Mi (Sand-Sand Fruit) having provided salvation for himself and his most valuable allies during the critical moments of the explosion.
"Damn it," the Shichibukai cursed, sand still pouring from his reformed clothing as he assessed the complete destruction of his organization's forces. "I managed to pull everyone underground just before the blast hit, but the heat through the sand nearly cooked us alive."
His Devil Fruit ability had allowed him to transform himself and the surrounding area into sand, dragging down the key members of both Baroque Works and the Blackbeard Pirates to depths where they could survive the initial devastation. However, sand's natural properties as a heat conductor had made their underground refuge almost as dangerous as the surface explosion.
"Boss," Robin gasped, her archaeological robes reduced to charred rags that barely preserved her modesty, "how many people did we lose?"
"Everyone except us," Crocodile replied with bitter pragmatism. "Baroque Works is finished. Years of recruitment and organization, destroyed in a single moment by one enemy."
The psychological impact of witnessing such complete annihilation was visible on every survivor's face. These were individuals who had built their reputations on violence and intimidation, yet none had ever encountered destructive power on this scale.
"Zehahaha!" Blackbeard's laughter echoed across the wasteland despite the dire circumstances. "What incredible power! If I could claim that Devil Fruit ability for myself, I could reshape the entire world!"
His crew members looked at him with expressions ranging from admiration to concern. Captain Teach's obsession with acquiring multiple Devil Fruit powers was well-known, but his enthusiasm in the face of such overwhelming opposition bordered on madness.
"That explosion was comparable to ancient weapons," Van Augur observed, his sniper's trained eye calculating the blast radius and energy requirements.
Doc Q coughed weakly while examining his scorched medical supplies. "The biological impossibility of surviving such a transformation... the research opportunities are fascinating, assuming we live long enough to study them."
The Colossal Titan's attention turned toward the small group of survivors, its massive head tilting downward to focus on what appeared to be insects from its elevated perspective. The movement was deliberate and predatory, like a giant considering whether to step on bothersome pests.
"I see some of you managed to survive," the titan's voice rumbled across the devastated landscape. "That's... unfortunate. I was hoping to end this conflict quickly and cleanly."
One enormous foot began to rise, casting a shadow the size of a city block across the surviving enemies. The threat was unmistakable—the Colossal Titan intended to finish what its explosive emergence had started, crushing the remainder of their forces beneath its overwhelming mass.
But the assembled criminals had not built their reputations by accepting defeat gracefully.
"Eren!" Blackbeard called out, his voice carrying surprising warmth despite their antagonistic relationship. "Why don't you join my crew instead? Your power combined with mine could rule these seas!"
As he spoke, darkness began flowing from his body like living shadow, spreading across the ground with supernatural speed. The Yami Yami no Mi's gravitational properties created a zone of absolute void that seemed to devour light itself.
"Kurouzu!" (Black Hole)
The darkness reached the Colossal Titan's descending foot and immediately began exerting tremendous pulling force. Instead of crushing his enemies, Eren found his massive form being drawn downward into Blackbeard's supernatural void.
The sensation was utterly alien—like being grabbed by invisible hands that could reach through any physical defense. The darkness climbed up the titan's leg like living smoke, its gravitational pull growing stronger with each passing second.
Eren realized with growing alarm that his hardening abilities were completely nullified within the darkness's influence. The Anti-Titan hardening that had made him nearly invulnerable to conventional attacks simply refused to manifest when in contact with Blackbeard's Devil Fruit power.
The pulling force continued to intensify, threatening to drag the entire hundred-meter titan into whatever dimensional pocket served as the darkness's destination. Fighting against it seemed futile—the more he struggled, the more thoroughly the void seemed to envelop his massive form.
Left with no viable alternatives, Eren made a painful tactical decision.
Steam erupted from the Colossal Titan's nape as he severed his connection to the massive body, abandoning the hundred-meter form rather than allow himself to be consumed by Blackbeard's darkness. The sensation was like cutting off a limb—part of his supernatural essence was lost forever when he relinquished control.
Without his consciousness to maintain its structure, the Colossal Titan began to vaporize rapidly. Its flesh and bones dissolved into superheated steam that mixed with the darkness, creating a hissing, chaotic mixture of opposing supernatural forces.
Eren's human form tumbled from the dissipating titan's nape, his body smoking from the tremendous heat generated by the emergency disconnection. He hit the ground hard, rolling across the scorched earth before coming to rest near the edge of the blast crater.