Chapter 59 - 37) EXTRA // War

ACE IS ALREADY DEAD AND AKIRA WILL NOT REMEMBER THE FURTHER PLOT.

I AM WRITING THIS TO GIVE THIS PART A PROPER ENDING 😀 😀 😀 😀

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Seven hours had passed since the explosion.

Seven hours since the world had changed.

Now—approximately thirty Marine warships floated in grim formation before the Red Line.

Or rather… before what remained of it.

The place where Marijoa once stood was gone.

Not destroyed.

Not ruined.

Evaporated.

The Red Line itself had been split cleanly in two—an impossible scar carved into the spine of the world. Where sacred land once connected heaven and sea, there was now only a vast, yawning void. The two halves of the Red Line faced one another across empty air, severed by annihilation.

On the flagship of the Marines, silence weighed heavier than iron.

Sengoku stood at the front deck.

Beside him—Garp.

Tsuru.

Aokiji.

Akainu.

All five stared at the massive rupture in the Red Line, their expressions frozen in disbelief.

By all logic, it shouldn't have been possible.

The core of the explosion—Ace's final detonation—had only spanned two to three kilometers in radius. That alone should never have been enough to cleave the Red Line itself.

But that was only the center.

What followed—the shockwave—had been something else entirely.

A force nearly ten times wider than the core.

Ten times more devastating.

It had struck the Red Line like a divine hammer, pulverizing stone older than recorded history. The land hadn't cracked—it had failed. And with that failure, the world's geography had been rewritten.

Akainu was the first to break the silence.

His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked ready to shatter.

"That damn bastard… Ace," he spat, magma simmering beneath his skin. "An evil pirate to the very end. Sinful blood of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger."

His eyes burned with hatred as he looked at the void.

"He deserved to die a thousand times over. But even then—he had to drag others down with him."

The moment the words left Akainu's mouth—

Garp's mood darkened further.

It was already bad.

Now, it became suffocating.

But Garp said nothing.

His fists trembled at his sides, veins standing out beneath weathered skin, but no words came. None that could untangle the storm inside his chest.

Because Ace wasn't the only one who had died.

Marijoa had been filled with Marines.

Thousands of them.

And among the dead—

Kizaru.

An Admiral.

Though Garp hadn't been particularly close to him, they had fought together. Bled together. Served under the same flag for decades.

Comrades.

And knowing that Kizaru had died—especially by the hands of his own grandson—

Twisted something deep inside Garp.

His expression became unreadable.

What was he supposed to grieve?

Ace—

the boy he had raised, scolded, protected, failed?

Or Kizaru—

a fellow Marine who had stood on the battlefield beside him for years?

Or the thousands of Marines stationed in Marijoa, erased in an instant?

Or—

The tens of thousands of slaves.

People whose names would never be remembered. People who had died without ever tasting freedom.

For Garp, even the deaths of countless Celestial Dragons—

even the fall of powerful figures within the World Government—

Could never compensate for the more than ten thousand lives that had been lost.

The scale of it crushed him.

And so—

Garp stood there, staring into the void, saying nothing.

Because there were no words left that could carry that weight.

---

Just when Garp stood in silence—lost somewhere between right and wrong, duty and blood—

Footsteps echoed across the deck.

Fast.

Unsteady.

A Marine messenger came running in, breath ragged, sweat pouring down his face. His eyes were wide with panic, as if the sky itself were about to collapse.

Akainu turned.

The moment he saw the Marine's disorderly state, the air around him thickened.

Magma seeped from his boots, sizzling against the deck.

"Act like a Marine," Akainu growled, voice low and lethal,

"or die."

The messenger froze.

Fear struck him harder than any fist ever could.

He swallowed, forced his breathing to steady, then snapped into a rigid salute—though his hands were still shaking.

"M–Marine Headquarters… Fleet Admiral Sengoku!"

That alone made Sengoku's eyes sharpen.

"Due to the explosion at Marijoa, all Den Den Mushi communications across the world were severed. We were completely cut off," the messenger continued quickly.

"Only moments ago… the global network was finally restored."

Sengoku felt a chill crawl up his spine.

The broadcast.

The execution.

The explosion.

The entire world had seen it.

His face darkened.

"…What happened?" Sengoku asked.

The messenger hesitated—just for a second.

Then spoke.

"Yamato—companion of Fire Fist Ace, who had been traveling with him for the past two years—was present at Onigashima at the moment of Ace's death."

Every Admiral reacted.

Aokiji's eyes narrowed.

Akainu's magma pulsed violently.

"She confronted Kaido," the messenger continued. "The battle lasted six hours."

Garp slowly lifted his head.

"…And?"

"With Kaido's defeat," the Marine said hoarsely. "Kaido publicly declared Yamato as his successor."

Silence crashed down like thunder.

"…What?" Akainu said sharply.

"Yamato has now become the captain of the Hundred Beast Pirates."

Shock rippled across the deck.

They all knew Yamato was strong—strength worthy of a pirate with a bounty in the two to three billion range.

But a Yonko?

Kaido?

Defeated?

Sengoku closed his eyes briefly.

Then opened them.

"Continue," he ordered.

The messenger swallowed hard, gathering what little courage he had left.

"The Hundred Beast Pirates… have declared war on the remnants of the World Government and the Marines."

The atmosphere changed instantly.

If moments ago the Marines had been solemn—

Now they were cold.

Black.

Fury simmered beneath disciplined exteriors.

The World Government hadn't even fallen for a single day.

And already—

Everyone was baring their fangs.

Sengoku's jaw tightened.

"…Go on."

The messenger nodded rapidly.

"The Hundred Beast fleet has already departed. Estimated arrival time—three days."

He paused.

Waited.

Then spoke—slowly, heavily.

"The Whitebeard Pirates have also declared war."

That hit harder than the rest.

"They announced that they will drown the remaining forces of the World Government in blood… to avenge Portgas D. Ace."

No one spoke.

The Marine officer continued, voice hoarse from delivering nothing but disasters.

"Marine Headquarters has confirmed further movements," he said. "The Big Mom Pirates and the Red Hair Pirates have both departed from their territories in the New World."

That—

That made the silence absolute.

"Our intelligence division tracked their routes," the officer went on. "Their destination has been predicted and verified."

He raised his head slowly.

"They are also heading toward the first half of the Grand Line."

Toward here.

No one spoke.

All four Emperors were on the move.

Two of them—Whitebeard's remnants and the Hundred Beast Pirates—had already declared open war on the Marines and the remnants of the World Government.

Big Mom?

There was little doubt.

She would follow.

As for the Red Hair Pirates—

That was the problem.

They were the anomaly.

But trusting Red-Haired Shanks had never been an option.

Not now.

Not after everything.

The Marine officer faltered, hesitation flickering across his face.

Sengoku noticed immediately.

"…Continue," he said, even though every instinct in his body screamed not to hear the rest.

The officer nodded.

"Reports indicate that hundreds of pirate crews, large and small, from across the entire world—are converging on this location."

His voice dropped.

"There is a rumor spreading among pirates. That after the destruction of Marijoa by Portgas D. Ace… the World Government no longer exists."

The words hit like a blade.

"They believe there is no ruler of the world anymore."

A pause.

"And after seeing the movements of all four Emperors, they have declared—"

The officer swallowed.

"—that the next ruler of the world will be decided in three days."

Location—

"The place where Marijoa once stood."

Silence.

This wasn't just war anymore.

This was the collapse of order itself.

If the Marines failed here—

The world would become hell.

Rage finally erupted.

Akainu stepped forward and slammed his fist into the air.

Magma roared outward, forming massive burning fists that tore across the sky and smashed violently into the exposed edge of the Red Line. Molten rock exploded, chunks of ancient stone collapsing into the abyss below.

The sea trembled.

Akainu's breath came out heavy.

Sengoku closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Then opened them.

"…Continue."

The Marine officer obeyed.

"Six hours ago," he said, "the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army—Sabo—launched an attack on Dressrosa."

Everyone stiffened.

"We received confirmation two hours ago. Donquixote Doflamingo has been killed by Sabo."

Akainu's eyes widened slightly.

"He was publicly hanged in front of the royal palace."

The officer continued rapidly, as if afraid to stop.

"The true former king of Dressrosa—who was believed dead—has been found alive. The truth about Dressrosa has been revealed to the world."

Tsuru's fingers tightened.

"Doflamingo's subordinate's Devil Fruit—the Hobi Hobi no Mi—was exposed," the officer said. "Its ability: anyone touched is transformed into a toy, and all memories of their existence are erased from everyone."

A chill spread.

"Thousands were freed—civilians, pirates, kings, Marines, even CP agents. All victims of that ability."

He took a breath.

"The Revolutionary Army intervened and stabilized the situation. Dressrosa has officially joined the Revolutionary Army."

That was the breaking point.

"And it doesn't end there," the officer said.

"Across the East Blue, West Blue, North Blue, South Blue—and the first half of the Grand Line—reports are flooding in."

He raised his head, eyes filled with dread.

"Dozens of kingdoms have withdrawn from the World Government and pledged allegiance to the Revolutionary Army."

Sengoku's expression turned grim.

"Our intelligence agency has reached a conclusion," the officer finished quietly. "The attack on Marijoa by Portgas D. Ace… the battle at Onigashima… the fall of Dressrosa… and the uprisings across multiple nations—"

He hesitated.

"All of it was planned from the very beginning."

The deck felt colder.

"And Portgas D. Ace… was connected to the Revolutionary Army."

Silence crashed down.

Slowly—

Everyone turned.

Their gazes settled on Garp.

Dark.

Heavy.

Unreadable.

Everyone there knew the truth.

Ace was Garp's grandson.

Dragon led the Revolutionary Army.

Sabo was Dragon's right hand.

All paths—

Led back to him.

Garp didn't move.

He didn't speak.

But for the first time—

Even the Hero of the Marines looked like a man standing at the center of a storm he could no longer control.

---

Sengoku took a few deep—measured—breaths.

Only then did he realize something important.

The messenger had stopped speaking.

No more trembling words.

No more disasters piled atop one another.

For the first time in hours—

There was no new bad news.

Sengoku let out a long sigh.

He wasn't sure whether he felt relieved because there was nothing left to hear—

Or because now, at last, there was only one thing left to do.

Fight the entire world.

He straightened.

His voice, when he spoke, was calm—too calm.

"So," Sengoku said, eyes sweeping across the deck, "this is not the time to play the blame game."

No one argued.

"In theory—or rather, in reality—the greatest war in history will take place here," he continued. "And the Marines will be part of it."

Sengoku turned slightly.

"Summon all high-level Marine officers. Every Vice Admiral, every elite unit—have them gather here within three days."

Akainu's lips curled.

"Recall the retired Marines as well," Sengoku added. "Anyone who can still fight."

Garp's eyes flickered.

"Summon the Seven Warlords of the Sea," Sengoku said next. "Order them to report here immediately."

Aokiji frowned but said nothing.

"All remaining nations still loyal to the World Government—issue a full mobilization order. Demand soldiers, supplies, weapons."

His gaze hardened.

"And give them an ultimatum."

"If they refuse to support the Marines, then we will no longer guarantee their safety."

"They will be left to the pirates."

The words were brutal.

Necessary.

For a moment, Sengoku was silent.

The wind swept across the deck, carrying the smell of salt and ash.

Then—

He spoke again.

"Spread a rumor among the pirates."

Everyone turned.

"Announce that the Whitebeard Pirates and the Hundred Beast Pirates are the closest to becoming the new rulers of the world."

Akainu's eyes widened slightly.

"And if the rest of the pirates want the throne," Sengoku continued, "they must unite and challenge the Four Emperors."

Another pause.

"Make it clear that the Marines are already heavily damaged."

"That we are not an obstacle."

"The final battle is between the pirates… and the Emperors."

Silence followed.

Sengoku turned to the Marine officer.

"Convey this information to Marine Headquarters immediately."

He exhaled.

"In two days, we will hold the final high-level meeting of the Marines."

The officer snapped to attention.

"Yes, Fleet Admiral!"

He saluted, turned, and hurried away.

The moment he disappeared below deck—

Everyone exhaled.

Slowly.

Heavily.

None of them had expected that declaring war on the Whitebeard Pirates would unravel the world so completely.

And yet—

Here they stood.

At the edge of the greatest war the seas had ever known.

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