"Waaah! Nami's gone mad!" Usopp clutched his head and scrambled backward in panic.
"Extremely dangerous!" Franky even forgot to retrieve his wig in his rush.
Robin calmly closed her book, as if this were all perfectly ordinary.
Chopper had completely retreated into the cabin, only the tips of his antlers and his crooked blue wig peeking out. "Monsters! They're all monsters!"
The lightning had been too fast, too sudden! Nami had barely swung her clima-tact when the strike was already almost upon them!
Garp struggled just to press Luffy's straw hat back onto his head.
The terrifying roar of thunder reverberated through the sky.
Even his hair stood on end.
Everyone expected the next instant to be filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh.
At this critical moment, Garp didn't even blink.
He simply moved as if casually reacting to the aroma of the bisque, his mouth twitching slightly at the corner.
At the same time, the hand resting on Luffy's straw hat instinctively reached toward the edge of his Marine pants pocket. There, a half-exposed, worn golden object reflected faintly under the lightning.
It was unmistakably an old Marine honor medal, engraved with a soaring seagull in relief.
"Ah-choo!"
An utterly casual sneeze, thick with nasal resonance.
From that tiny motion, an almost imperceptible shockwave radiated from his nose and mouth. The space around him rippled as if a stone had struck the surface of water.
Hiss!
The half-exposed medal seemed to be gently nudged by the shockwave. Then, in an incredibly strange and precise arc, it shot upward.
Its path positioned it directly in the trajectory of the destructive lightning.
And then! Something impossible happened.
When the blazing white lightning, fierce enough to melt gold and cut steel, struck the rebounding dark gold medal, the anticipated spectacle of sparks and molten metal never came to pass.
The small medal absorbed the impact in an instant. Its surface was illuminated by countless, wild, ghostly blue arcs of electricity, like a hungry black hole or a suddenly activated superconducting core.
It forcibly contained, compressed, and absorbed the immense energy of the lightning within its tiny metal structure.
The surrounding air ionized violently, glowing with a dazzling blue-white light and filling the air with the sharp scent of ozone.
Even this red medal could not fully contain such a terrifying surge of power.
Then, a narrow, intensely concentrated beam of white light shot out from the finely carved edge of the medal, bright enough to be blinding, like a sword piercing the heavens.
It silently aimed upward toward the roiling thunderclouds Nami had just summoned, disappearing without a trace into the clouds.
A brief silence followed, lasting less than a tenth of a second.
Rumble, rumble, rumble!
A deep, muffled roar echoed across the sky, as if an immense force had torn open the clouds from within, resonating with chilling power.
The entire sky churned violently, dark clouds twisting and warping as though ripped by an invisible giant hand.
Where the searing white light vanished, a massive swirling black vortex instantly formed, over a hundred meters wide, forcing the surrounding clouds outward with brute strength.
Pure, dazzling sunlight poured down like a divine spotlight, illuminating the entire area below with precision.
The previously thunderous, storm-laden sea instantly cleared.
Bright sunlight fell unimpeded on the deck, highlighting the spilled seafood bisque and the crew's bewildered faces.
Silence engulfed the air, broken only by the gentle slap of waves against the ship. The artificial clarity of the sky created an almost eerie tranquility.
On deck, everyone's mouths formed perfect "O"s.
Garp touched the edge of his pocket as if something were missing, then bent down with precise control to pick up the medal from the still-steaming bisque. It was scorching to the touch, but the medal remained intact. Even the intricate arc patterns on its surface now seemed more mysterious. He casually wiped it on his pants and returned it to his pocket, muttering, "Tsk, this piece Sengoku gave me is surprisingly durable."
Bang!
Nami's weather rod slipped from her hand, and she herself fell backward in shock.
Sanji caught her hastily, abandoning all his anger.
"The… the sky's clear? Where's my thunder?" Nami whispered weakly.
"Sunshine? After a thunderstorm?" Usopp pinched his long nose in disbelief.
Chopper shivered in fright. "Could it be… the ship doctor now needs to study meteorology?"
Robin, holding her still-warm thick rice cracker, looked up at the artificially cleared sky.
Then she turned toward Garp, hands on hips, looking triumphant as he scolded Luffy for spilling the bisque. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile appeared on her lips, blending the curiosity of a scholar with a deeper understanding.
She cautiously bit into the rice cracker. Its soft, savory flavor melted in her mouth, carrying an ineffable taste, as if it had been aged for years. She whispered softly, like a footnote in history:
"It seems… the pen that writes history must ultimately be held by the living."
The night was pitch black, the New World's ocean spreading silver under the moonlight. The sun, like a gentle cradle, had long since set. The crew's laughter and chatter faded as most fell asleep.
On the edge of the second deck's observation post, Garp's tall silhouette stood firm like a rock.
Moonlight traced the weathered lines of his face. Between his rough fingers, he held a pure white life card, edges worn, radiating a steady warmth.
The paper was thin but carried immense weight. His gaze pierced the card, fixed on the unseen darkness of the distant sea, swirling with complex, inexpressible emotions regret, anxiety, and a nearly obsessive determination to alter certain fates at all costs.
"Ace…"
A silent roar echoed in his chest, tinged with rust and blood.
Last time, he could only stand below the execution platform, listening to his grandson's dying cries, watching life extinguish before his eyes.
That helplessness haunted him day and night, gnawing like a venomous snake.
"This time…" His rough thumb traced the warm edge of the life card, feeling its faint but stubborn pulse. Garp's eyes sharpened, like a blade forged to perfection. "Even if I tear the sky apart! Even if I sink the Red Land into the sea! I will never let that cursed execution hammer fall! No one! Must! Die!"
His footsteps were light, like the night breeze brushing the deck.
Robin silently approached, offering a cup of steaming black coffee, the warmth of her fingertips still lingering on the cup. "Captain Garp," she said, her voice calm and gentle, like a whisper under moonlight.
Garp didn't turn. Carefully, he placed the life card close to his heart in an inner pocket, the faint warmth clinging like a small spark against his skin.
He took a deep, salty breath, accepting the scorching coffee. His rough fingers traced the warmth of the cup, the heat flowing through him like a current easing the chill deep in his chest.
He said nothing, yet the heavy, protective, and resolute will he carried radiated silently, mingling with the salty sea breeze under the moonlight.
He lifted the cup and drank the dark coffee in one gulp. Hot and bitter, yet with a trace of subtle sweetness, much like the thorny path he had chosen.
Robin's gaze swept over his clenched fists and the lines of his profile, now resolute. She understood the unspoken vow.
"History… is always rewritten by the living, isn't it? No matter how heavy the past."
Garp's hand tightened imperceptibly around the empty cup.
Under the moonlight, the depth of his weathered eyes solidified like cooled lava. He was no longer merely the Marine hero bound by rules; he had become Monkey D. Garp, wielding the power and will to rewrite the future.