-Real World-
Admiral Raizumi Kennen's battlefield performance had been objectively remarkable—his mastery of lightning manipulation displaying tactical sophistication and raw destructive potential. However, Enel, currently residing on Skypiea at this precise moment in history, felt profoundly uncomfortable witnessing the display.
That hateful electric rodent was committing blasphemy against God himself.
Enel's rage reached such intensity he couldn't suppress the outburst. "Isn't that my technique?! What did that Queen do to me—forcing fusion with two inferior creatures?!" His voice echoed across Skypiea's golden architecture, disturbing the perpetual clouds. "I am so unwilling to accept this fate!"
The self-proclaimed deity—a man suffering from considerable overconfidence regarding his place in the cosmic hierarchy—had learned through the Sky Screen's revelations that other individuals with Logia abilities existed throughout the outside world. He was not, in fact, the sole entity possessing divine electrical authority.
However, this arrogant man still insisted on calling himself God. In Enel's theological framework, there should naturally exist many deities across this vast world. It would be the strangest cosmic joke imaginable if he alone represented the only Thunder God in existence.
Through various mental gymnastics and self-reinforcing delusions, Enel had become even more determined in his divine identity. He'd constructed an entire pantheon: Sakazuki possessed the divinity of the Fire God, that underage girl Elsa embodied the Ice and Snow Goddess, Admiral Gin served as the Rain God. In essence, any Logia Devil Fruit user could find their corresponding divinity within his expanding mythology system.
Enel's sanity had deteriorated to such concerning degrees that even his most loyal priests attempted to avoid him whenever possible. They feared this capricious deity would rain down divine punishment for imagined transgressions, electrocuting them into charred corpses on a whim.
What Enel found absolutely unacceptable—beyond the apparent theft of his abilities—was the Sky Screen's documentation showing how that Straw Hat Boy would eventually defeat him during their inevitable confrontation.
The opponent wields only a Paramecia-type Gomu Gomu no Mi, Enel thought with furious incomprehension. How can mere rubber withstand the Thunder God's lightning?
Even granting that rubber possessed certain insulating properties, once voltage exceeded critical thresholds, most substances would be reduced to ash under sustained electrical assault. The physics should favor overwhelming divine power.
Therefore, Enel concluded with absolute certainty, the Sky Screen must have displayed incorrect information at that particular segment. How could an underage Straw Hat Boy defeat God himself with nothing but mortal flesh?
Moreover, the battle would occur on Skypiea itself—Enel's home territory where he possessed every conceivable tactical advantage. Even using his toes to contemplate the scenario, the Thunder God couldn't imagine any plausible path to defeat.
Yet the Sky Screen had shown him eventually falling into Yonko territory, becoming experimental material for some evil scientist. His soul and flesh merged horrifically into a purple Mink body. Enel wouldn't even serve as the primary consciousness—instead becoming a mere appendage of "Admiral Kennen's" dominant personality.
This represents the most unacceptable outcome imaginable.
The perpetually unhappy Thunder God needed outlets for venting these overwhelming emotions. His solution involved sending down random divine punishment from Skypiea's highest points, arbitrarily selecting "lucky" individuals for electrocution. If someone ventured outside only to be transformed into charcoal by lightning from clear skies, they could only blame their own catastrophic luck.
Marine Headquarters - Strategic Analysis Division
The Marine organization felt considerable satisfaction with Admiral Kennen's demonstrated abilities. The Goro Goro no Mi (Rumble-Rumble Fruit) truly proved outstanding in terms of offensive capabilities and tactical flexibility.
The only unfortunate element involved the opponents Kennen had encountered—all of them proving somewhat too formidable for straightforward victory.
The dramatic shift from hostile confrontation to tactical alliance with Boa Hancock proved unacceptable only to a relatively small number of senior Marine officials. For the broader organization, the concept of Adventure Groups as practical tools entered mainstream Marine consciousness for the first time.
Originally, many personnel had dismissed the Adventure Group framework as fundamentally useless. Once a pirate, always a pirate, conventional wisdom insisted. This parasitic class of unproductive bandits could never qualify as trustworthy partners. Marine cooperation with pirates represented little better than criminal collusion—becoming accomplices to the very scum they'd sworn to eliminate.
However, nobody had anticipated that five years into the future, Fleet Admiral Artoria Pendragon would successfully control Adventure Groups and deploy them against hostile pirates en masse. This strategy wouldn't merely reduce Marine casualties—it would catastrophically weaken the overall strength of pirate organizations, keeping maritime criminal elements under institutional control.
Even Marines who maintained blood feuds with pirates—including radical factions devoted to Absolute Justice—found themselves reconsidering whether the Adventure Group methodology might prove feasible in the current strategic environment.
The pirate problem resembled locust infestations: impossible to completely eliminate through conventional means. Populations would surge unpredictably, with massive outbreaks occurring in certain years despite previous suppression efforts.
A substantial portion of blame rested squarely on Gol D. Roger's shoulders. The Great Pirate Era he'd initiated through his final words had transformed countless individuals who shouldn't have become pirates into deadly executioners prowling the seas. Too many lives had been catastrophically altered by one man's selfish declaration.
"Regarding Marco's miraculous survival," Admiral Sakazuki began, his voice dripping with contempt as he addressed his colleague, "Borsalino, this really demonstrates your characteristic style of operation. No wonder you sustained the least injuries during the Battle of Marineford."
The magma-wielding Admiral couldn't suppress his sarcasm. He increasingly felt something profoundly wrong with Borsalino's sense of justice—sometimes the corruption seemed even worse than Kuzan's sentimental weakness.
During the Battle of Marineford—a confrontation defined by absolute existential stakes where survival demanded eliminating enemies without mercy—Admiral Kizaru had apparently released Phoenix Marco, First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. This transcended mere negligence or tactical error. It represented outright betrayal of the entire Marine organization and constituted a vicious insult to fallen soldiers whose deaths had supposedly served strategic purpose.
Although Marco had provided only one-sided testimony, and the Sky Screen had merely hinted at various implications rather than showing explicit footage, everyone who'd watched the broadcasts understood Borsalino's fundamental character with crystal clarity.
It would be genuinely strange if Kizaru fought desperately for Marine victory during such conflicts. Releasing opponents or deliberately underperforming represented his authentic operational methodology—the expected behavior pattern rather than shocking deviation.
Feeling cold stares from numerous Marine colleagues boring into him like physical pressure, Borsalino experienced profound sense of grievance. Why should they assign blame for something that hasn't even occurred yet? he thought with genuine frustration. Admiral Akainu is engaging in malicious slander! This constitutes defamation!
Sitting in his current position, Borsalino actually shared emotional kinship with Koby languishing in distant prison cells. Both men found themselves trapped by future prophecy, condemned for actions they hadn't committed. Fellow sufferers united by unjust persecution.
"While I certainly appreciate efficient time management and maintaining reasonable work-life boundaries," Kizaru protested with unusual earnestness, "my loyalty to the Marine organization is absolutely unquestionable and beyond reproach."
Admiral Borsalino couldn't help making excuses for himself. After all, people needed to maintain basic dignity in civilized society. Being perpetually looked down upon by Marine colleagues represented something no psychologically normal person could tolerate indefinitely.
Borsalino can't endure this ongoing humiliation, he thought desperately. Don't they understand that?
Setting aside that relatively minor interpersonal drama for the moment, attention shifted toward analyzing Marshall D. Teach—the Blackbeard whose broadcast appearance had stunned everyone present.
Every observer had catastrophically underestimated the Trinity Emperor's strength. They'd underestimated what possessing three Devil Fruits simultaneously could accomplish when wielded by someone with genuine strategic brilliance.
"Appearance manifests from internal character," Vice Admiral Garp observed, his aged voice carrying weight of experience. "This level of Conqueror's Haki—completely enveloping an entire island with sovereign pressure—demonstrates power approaching Whitebeard's prime years."
As one of the few remaining relics from the previous golden era of piracy, Garp's assessments still carried tremendous reference value. Even if Edward Newgate himself refused to acknowledge the uncomfortable truth, Marshall D. Teach likely qualified as Whitebeard's most accomplished "son" in purely objective terms.
The Whitebeard Pirates had essentially been playing house across the seas, raising a parasitic creature within their supposedly loving family structure. This revelation genuinely surprised many viewers watching the Sky Screen broadcasts.
The unique properties of the Yami Yami no Mi (Dark-Dark Fruit) gradually became topics of fascinated discussion—dinner conversation material spreading across taverns and Marine mess halls alike.
Users of the Dark-Dark Fruit couldn't transform into elemental darkness for defensive intangibility. They had to endure doubled damage from all attack categories—suffering twice the agony and injury from identical strikes that other combatants could shrug off.
Yet this single overwhelming advantage—the capacity to deprive or completely nullify other Devil Fruit abilities—outweighed every tactical disadvantage combined. Marshall D. Teach had become the natural predator of Devil Fruit users universally. In combat scenarios lacking advanced Haki techniques, Whitebeard's most rebellious son was functionally invincible against supernatural opponents.
With such an exceptional Devil Fruit as his ultimate objective, no wonder Marshall D. Teach had remained dormant within the Whitebeard Pirates since childhood. He'd played along with the family-bonding charade, pretending affection while patiently awaiting the precise moment when the Yami Yami no Mi would manifest somewhere within their territory.
Decades of false brotherhood. All for one perfect fruit.
The cold calculation involved inspired equal parts horror and grudging admiration throughout the watching world.