The flames of heaven refused to die.
Smoke poured from the ruins of Pangaea Castle, curling into the bruised sky like a funeral shroud. The once-holy city was nothing but ash and broken marble, the throne of the gods cracked and bleeding red light from its foundations.
The power Ada had summoned lingered above, lightning clawing at the clouds — as if the world itself couldn't accept what had just happened.
At the heart of it all, Ada walked.
Her crimson dress fluttered in the wind, torn and blackened at the edges. Blood streaked her temple. Her crimson eyes had dimmed, no longer blazing with fury, but heavy with something deeper — the weight of knowing she had faced the truth and survived it.
Behind her, the Nyx Pirates followed — battered, staggering, but still alive.
Mihawk walked in silence, his blade chipped but still gleaming faintly under the red sky. Bullet's steps were uneven, his muscles twitching from exhaustion.
Enel floated weakly, lightning flickering faintly around his arms like dying fireflies. Fisher Tiger's hands were soaked in his own blood, but he refused to fall. Lilith stumbled, clutching her cracked denden mushi close like a wounded child.
The only sound was their footsteps — slow, hollow echoes against the shattered marble of what used to be the Holy Land.
"Captain," Bullet finally growled, his voice like grinding stone. "Why're we walking away? He was on his knees. That monster knelt before you."
Ada didn't turn. Her tone was soft, calm — too calm.
"I made him kneel," she said. "But I couldn't make him break."
Enel's brows furrowed. "He trembled. I saw it. Even that demon flinched at your haki."
"He trembled because he remembered," Ada said. "Not because he feared me."
Her words hung heavy in the smoke.
Mihawk's eyes narrowed. "Then what did he see?"
Ada stopped walking. The wind brushed her hair across her face. "He saw Joyboy," she whispered. "My ancestor. The will he thought he killed Eight hundred years ago."
For a long moment, no one spoke. The flames crackled behind them.
Fisher Tiger clenched his fist, his voice hoarse. "Then why not finish him off? Why let that thing breathe another day?"
Ada finally turned to them. Her gaze was tired but fierce. "Because if I stayed another second," she said, "none of you would've left this mountain alive."
Bullet scowled. "You think we care about that? We came here to end the gods—"
"And I won't trade your lives for my pride!" Ada snapped, her voice cracking like thunder.
The crew fell silent. Even the wind seemed to pause.
She took a slow breath, her expression softening. "We're pirates," she said quietly. "Not martyrs."
As they descended the ruined steps of Marie Geoise, Lilith finally spoke, her voice trembling.
"Captain… back there, when you called him a demon — were you serious? He looked human."
Ada's eyes darkened. "He was human. Once."
Her voice lowered. "Imu is no god. He's a demon hiding behind divinity — a parasite wearing a crown."
Fisher Tiger gritted his teeth. "A demon who ruled as a god…"
Ada nodded. "Eight hundred years ago, when the first kingdom fell, Imu rose from the shadows. He called himself the arbiter of peace — but what he really wanted was to bury the truth."
Lilith's hands tightened around her denden mushi. "The truth… about Joyboy?"
Ada looked at her. "And about Davy D. Jones."
That name sent a shiver through the group.
Bullet blinked. "The sea devil? That's just a sailor's tale."
Ada's lips curved faintly. "That's what the World Government wanted you to believe. Davy D. Jones — the first king of the world. The man who ruled before there were even 'World Nobles.'"
Fisher Tiger frowned. "The one Rocks was descended from…"
Ada nodded. "Just like Rocks D. Xebec carried Davy's bloodline… I carry Joyboy's."
The wind howled between the broken walls.
Enel whistled low. "So what, Captain? The gods… the pirates… they're all just family feuds?"
Ada looked up at the sky. "No. They're echoes. The first light and the first shadow. Both lines still live — mine, and Rocks'. Joyboy and Davy. The two storms that never ended."
———————-
Below the mountain, the freed captives ran through the broken gates of heaven.
Hiyori, Okiku, and Perona led them through the debris, shouting directions. Lilith's remaining drones hovered above, projecting light through the smoke, guiding the weak and wounded toward the sea.
"Keep moving!" Okiku shouted, pushing through the crowd. "The marines are gone! This is your chance!"
A little girl tripped — Hancock — clutching her sisters' hands. Okiku caught her and lifted her up, smiling gently. "You'll see the ocean soon, little one. Don't stop."
Perona's ghosts drifted overhead, carrying those too weak to walk. "We're clear to the west," she called. "The ships are waiting!"
Hiyori looked up toward the burning palace. "Captain…" she whispered. "Please be alive."
A moment later, a flash of light split the sky — lightning streaking down like divine judgment.
And from it, they came.
The ground trembled as Enel descended in a burst of static, lowering the others carefully to the earth.
Ada stepped forward, bloodied but upright, her eyes still burning faintly gold.
The crowd gasped — thousands of former slaves staring at the woman who had burned the Holy Land.
"Captain!" Hiyori cried, rushing forward.
Ada caught her and smiled weakly. "We made it back."
Fisher Tiger dropped to one knee, panting. "Heh. Thought I'd never see the sun again."
Lilith knelt beside him, quickly patching his wounds. "Hold still. You'll tear the muscle again."
Ada glanced at her. "Lilith. The recording?"
She held up the cracked snail. "Still alive. Everything's here — Imu, the Five Elders, the truth."
Ada's eyes softened. "Good."
"But…" Lilith hesitated. "The broadcast failed. The world didn't hear."
Ada's smile widened slightly. "That's fine."
Bullet frowned. "Fine? You're saying we went through all that for nothing?"
Ada looked at the sea below. "Not nothing," she said. "Seeds don't bloom the moment you plant them."
Her crew fell silent.
"The truth will spread," Ada said. "When the world's ready to hear it."
———————
High above, the ruins of the Empty Throne glowed faintly red.
The Five Elders knelt among the rubble, trembling, their blood staining the marble.
On the broken throne sat Imu, shadowed and still. His robes were torn, his skin cracked with black veins that pulsed faintly under the dim light.
"She carries his will," Imu whispered. His voice was soft, but it rippled through the chamber like a curse. "The blood of Nyx… Joyboy's heir."
Saturn lifted his head weakly. "Your Majesty, shall we—"
"No." Imu's voice turned sharp. "Let her run."
The Elders froze.
Imu leaned forward, his eyes glowing faint crimson. "She cannot defeat me. Not yet. But the world will remember what it saw. Fear will do what the gods cannot."
He then spoke without looking at them.
"Rebuild it."
The word rolled through the chamber like thunder.
The Elders looked up, startled. Saturn swallowed hard. "Rebuild… Marie Geoise, Your Majesty?"
"Yes." Imu's voice was low, hoarse, but unyielding. "Every tower. Every wall. Every gilded step. Let the world see that heaven cannot fall — even when the devils strike it down."
Nusjuro wiped the blood from his mouth. "And the people? What of the nobles, the guards, the slaves—"
"Replace them," Imu said flatly. "Raise new saints from the blood of the old. Rebuild the illusion. The world must not believe it lost its gods."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Finally, Saturn dared to speak again. "And the girl, Your Majesty… the one who recorded it. Lilith of the Nyx Pirates. What if she broadcasts it?"
Imu's gaze shifted slowly toward him, eyes glimmering faintly red.
"Nyx D. Ada is not a fool," he said. "She knows the time isn't right."
The Elders glanced at each other, uneasy.
"She will keep it," Imu continued. "Hidden. Waiting. Because even she understands what that truth would unleash."
Mars frowned, his voice shaking. "Then she intends to use it later?"
Imu leaned back against the cracked throne, the stone groaning beneath him. "Perhaps. When she thinks the world can bear it. But by then…" His lips curled into a faint, cruel smile. "There will be nothing left worth saving."
Saturn bowed his head. "Then… this isn't over."
Imu's eyes flared brighter. "No. It has only begun."
He looked toward the ruined ceiling, where the smoke parted enough to reveal the faint light of dawn breaking above the clouds.
"Rebuild the Holy Land," he whispered. "And when it stands again, I will remind the world why gods must be feared."
"And the bloodlines?" Saturn asked carefully.
Imu's mouth twisted. "Find the descendants of Davy D. Jones. If Joyboy's line lives… so does his rival."
Thunder rolled above the ruined sky.
————————-
By nightfall, Ada and her crew reached the sea.
The freed captives huddled around makeshift fires, singing songs that hadn't been heard since the Void Century. The air smelled of smoke, salt, and hope.
Lilith sat on the sand, repairing her tech. Enel was sprawled nearby, recharging in silence. Bullet watched the waves with crossed arms. Mihawk stood at the edge of the water, polishing his blade — every scrape slow and deliberate.
Ada stood apart, staring out at the dark horizon. The sea was calm now, as if waiting.
Fisher Tiger joined her. "You freed them, Captain. Every last one."
Ada's lips curled faintly. "No. They freed themselves. I just broke the locks."
Tiger exhaled. "And Imu?"
Ada's voice dropped low. "Still breathing."
"Then we go back."
She shook her head. "Not yet."
He frowned. "Why not? The longer we wait—"
"Because I'm not the one meant to end him."
Tiger blinked. "Then who?"
Ada looked at the sea, her reflection shimmering under the moonlight. "Someone else. Someone who still believes in the world's goodness. I've seen too much to be that person."
Lilith approached quietly, holding the denden mushi. "Captain… it's stable now. The entire battle's recorded."
Ada took it gently. The snail blinked weakly.
"Should we send it?" Lilith asked.
Ada stared at it for a long moment. "No. Hide it."
Lilith frowned. "Hide it?"
Ada nodded. "When the seas rise again — when the world starts to question its gods — that's when you release it. Not before."
Lilith hesitated, then bowed her head. "Understood."
Perona floated over, crossing her arms. "So that's it? We just leave? No revenge? No finale?"
Ada smiled faintly. "This isn't the end, Perona. It's the echo before the storm."
As the crew prepared the ship, Ada sat alone by the water.
The waves whispered softly, as if carrying voices from another time.
In her mind, she saw two figures standing side by side in an ancient memory — Davy D. Jones, with hair like the sea, and Nyx D. Joyboy, with a smile like dawn.
Brothers in will, rivals in dream.
She heard Joyboy's voice echo faintly.
"The world doesn't change with hate. It changes with memory."
And Davy's laughter followed:
"Then let the sea remember me forever."
Ada opened her eyes. The waves glowed faintly under the moon.
"Your descendants still walk, both of you," she murmured. "And one day… they'll finish what you started."
The crew boarded their ship — its hull scarred, sails half-burnt, but still standing proud.
The Oro Jackson cut through the waves as the first light of dawn touched the horizon.
Mihawk joined Ada at the bow. "You knew it would come to this," he said quietly. "You fought knowing you couldn't win."
Ada smiled faintly. "Winning isn't always surviving. Sometimes it's being remembered."
He studied her face. "You think the world will remember?"
Ada's eyes glowed softly. "The world never forgets the ones who defy gods."
The wind picked up, filling the tattered sails.
Behind them, the Red Line burned — the throne of heaven now nothing but smoke against the sunrise.