The wind hummed softly against the Oro Jackson's sails as night fell.
The crew gathered around the communication deck, where Lilith's holographic den den mushi flickered with static.
Ada stood at the center, her coat draped loosely over her shoulders, hair swaying with the breeze. Her expression was calm — but her eyes burned with quiet resolve.
"Lilith," she said. "Send the full record — everything from Mariejois. The truth about the throne, the Five Elders, and Imu."
Lilith blinked. "To who exactly?"
Ada gazed out toward the stars. "Two people who need to see it. Dragon… and Vegapunk."
The crew exchanged glances.
Even Mihawk lifted an eyebrow.
Bullet whistled low from the other side of the deck. "You're handing that kind of truth to the Revolution and the smartest man alive. Bold move, Captain."
Ada's tone didn't change. "They deserve to know. They've been fighting shadows. It's time they saw the monster's face."
Lilith tapped at her console, the sound of gears and clicking shells echoing faintly. "Encrypted signal — double frequency through sky channels. It'll reach them in a few hours."
Ada nodded. "Then let them see what kind of world they're really fighting for."
The machine chirped. The den den mushi blinked twice — transmission launched.
The message began its journey across the world.
The night deepened. The Oro Jackson sailed through calm seas, unaware that its message would soon shake minds across the world.
————————-
Baltigo - Revolutionary Army Base
The chamber flickered with pale light as the transponder snail projected Ada's image.
Dragon stood at the center — silent, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Beside him were Bartholomew Kuma, his arms crossed, Emporio Ivankov, wide-eyed and speechless for once, and Ginny, who watched with trembling hands.
"There is no god on that throne," Ada's voice echoed from the snail.
"Only a demon pretending to be one.
Imu — the false king of the world."
"Davy D. Jones — the first king of the world."
"Joyboy — Nyx D. Joyboy — his enemy.
And I… am his descendant."
Silence.
Only the faint static of the recording filled the air.
Kuma finally broke it, voice deep but unsure. "She said… Imu. The name that appears in the oldest government scripts. I thought it was myth."
Ivankov's makeup cracked as his jaw dropped. "Dragon! Are you telling me the World Government has had a secret ruler for centuries?!"
Ginny, who had been silent, placed a trembling hand over her mouth. "Then everything… the Holy Land, the Celestial Dragons… they're not divine. Just puppets."
Dragon didn't move for a long moment. Then he spoke, voice low and calm. "I always suspected the throne was not empty. But a demon…?"
Ivankov then blinked rapidly, hands on his hips. "A demon on the throne? that's a whole new level of scandal!"
Ginny didn't speak — her eyes were still fixed on Ada's face in the projection. "So all this time… they lied about the Empty Throne…"
Dragon stepped closer, his expression unreadable, shadows cutting across his face. "I always suspected something ruled behind the symbols. Now I know."
He clenched his fist slowly. "A demon masquerading as a god… the throne was never empty."
Kuma tilted his head slightly. "And she said she's Joyboy's descendant."
"She carries the Will of D," Dragon said. "And she's reminding the world what it truly means."
He stepped closer to the image, shadows stretching across his scarred face. "She faced it head-on."
The image shifted — Ada revealing the truth of the bloodlines, her voice ringing with conviction.
"Joyboy — Nyx D. Joyboy — was my ancestor."
"The line of Davy D. Jones lives still, through Rocks."
"Two lines. One of freedom. One of vengeance."
Kuma exhaled deeply. "Two legacies… both alive."
Ivankov fanned himself, pacing dramatically. "This is insanity! History itself is screaming!"
Dragon raised a hand, silencing them. "Listen."
Ada's final words played again, faint but resolute.
"The world won't stay blind forever. Not while I'm still alive."
The room dimmed. The recording ended.
Silence.
Kuma spoke first. "She revealed what the World Government buried for eight hundred years. If they find her—"
"They will," Dragon interrupted. "But they'll never kill the idea she just revived."
Ginny finally looked at him. "What do we do with this?"
Dragon's eyes didn't leave the screen. "We hold it. Not for the world yet — not until the right time. If this truth spreads now, it'll drown nations before they're ready to rise."
Ivankov crossed his arms dramatically. "So what, we just sit on a world-shattering secret? I'm all for chaos, Dragon, but even I'm nervous about this one."
Dragon turned to them, calm but resolute. "We prepare. Because if Imu truly exists… then every war we've fought until now has only been against his shadows."
He looked back at Ada's last image — her eyes blazing, the world government collapsing behind her.
He turned to Kuma. "Double the encryption on this recording. Only the highest clearance. Not a word leaks."
Kuma nodded. "Understood."
He looked out through the cavern's open vents — the cold wind rushing in from the mountains.
"She's lit the match," he said quietly. "Now the world will have to choose whether to burn or rebuild."
———————-
Egghead Island – Vegapunk's Laboratory
Electric hums filled the air.
Screens glowed in pale green light, data streams cascading down faster than the human eye could read.
Dr. Vegapunk stood in front of a dozen screens, each displaying fragments of Ada's broadcast. The lab's hum had fallen silent, save for the low ticking of machines trying to process the encrypted data.
Behind him, Shaka watched silently — the "Good" satellite, his voice steady as ever.
Vegapunk whispered, "Incredible…"
Both men watched as Ada's words echoed through the lab.
"Davy D. Jones — the first king of the world."
"Joyboy — Nyx D. Joyboy, his enemy."
"The throne was never empty. The world you know… is built on a lie."
The feed crackled, ending in static.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Shaka was first. His mechanical voice was steady, but his tone carried disbelief. "If this is genuine — if this Imu exists — then every founding record of the World Government is false."
Vegapunk leaned forward, pressing his palms against the table. "False? No… rewritten. Deliberately."
He exhaled shakily. "The Empty Throne was the symbol of peace after the Void Century. But if a single being sat upon it this whole time—"
He trailed off, running his hands through his graying hair.
"The implications are… catastrophic."
Shaka turned toward the frozen image of Ada on the screen. "And her claim — that Joyboy's true name was Nyx D. Joyboy. If that's accurate, then she holds bloodline data I've never encountered."
Vegapunk began typing rapidly, screens shifting. "Comparing linguistics between early Void inscriptions… yes. 'Nyx' appears in fragments related to the ancient dawn cult. The D. may represent a lineage — a rebellion encoded in history itself."
Shaka's head tilted slightly. "Then Joyboy was real. The first to defy the so-called gods."
"And Davy D. Jones…" Vegapunk murmured, "…wasn't a myth either. He was the first king — the founder of hierarchy. Which means the war between them… was the beginning of everything."
He turned away from the screen, pacing. "And if Davy D. Jones was truly the first king, then Imu must have been his usurper. A being older than the Government itself."
Shaka observed him calmly. "Then the throne was never empty."
Vegapunk looked up, eyes gleaming with a mix of horror and awe. "A demon pretending to be divine. A god-shaped lie."
Shaka's digital eyes flickered. "Two lines — King and Rebel. The blood of both still walk the world."
He sighed deeply, the weight of revelation pressing down. "No wonder they burned Ohara. They feared discovery, not rebellion."
Shaka folded his arms. "And what of Ada?"
Vegapunk smiled faintly. "A survivor of the impossible. The kind of anomaly history produces only when it's about to change."
Shaka's digital eyes dimmed slightly. "You intend to preserve this data."
"Of course," Vegapunk said. "But in silence. For now, this truth will sleep. If it spreads too soon, the world won't evolve — it'll collapse."
Vegapunk turned off the screen and stared into the dark reflection.
"Science can uncover the past," he said softly, "but will… will shapes it."
He smiled faintly, though it was almost sad. "Ada, you've shown me the kind of truth no machine can measure."
The lab fell quiet again, filled only by the hum of servers.
He turned to the window, looking out at the calm night sky above Egghead. "But when that day comes… when the world is ready… this truth will light the dawn again."
But in Vegapunk's private notebook, new words appeared in his delicate handwriting:
The Will of D. is older than history.
And its echo is awakening again.
———————
The Oro Jackson – That Same Night
Lilith returned to the deck, the sea breeze pushing her hair back.
She held a small den den mushi that blinked twice — confirmation signals from both Baltigo and Egghead.
"Messages received," she said. "Dragon and Vegapunk both confirmed."
Ada nodded quietly. "Good."
Fisher Tiger leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "So that's it? You're trusting two people with enough truth to start a war?"
Ada's gaze softened. "They already fight wars. Now they'll finally know why."
Enel tilted his head, lightning sparking faintly along his temple. "And what happens when the world finds out who you really are?"
Ada didn't answer immediately. She looked toward the stars — the same stars her ancestor must have seen centuries ago.
"Then the world will decide what to believe," she said. "But at least this time, they'll be choosing with their eyes open."
Bullet grinned faintly. "Hah. Sounds like you just gave the world homework."
Ada chuckled under her breath. "Maybe it's time they learned something."
Lilith then exhaled, exhausted. "I'll encrypt our logs. If the Government tries to trace the signal, they'll find a ghost trail."
"Good," Ada said. "Let them chase ghosts."
The crew fell into a quiet rhythm — Enel humming softly, Mihawk sharpening his blade, Lilith archiving the last bits of footage, Fisher Tiger staring at the horizon.
—————-
The Oro Jackson rocked gently as the waves caught its hull. The crew slowly scattered, the night air filling with quiet laughter, soft talk, the hum of a ship that refused to rest.
Ada stayed at the railing, alone with her thoughts.
"The world's changing," she whispered. "But maybe this time, it'll change for the right reasons."
Above her, the dawn began to rise — faint light spreading over the water.
And somewhere far across the seas — in the silent halls beneath Mariejois — the name Nyx D. Joyboy echoed again, whispered by the very monster that once tried to erase it.
"The descendants of D rise again…"