Dragon watched Sabo cry as memories came flooding back. The joy of seeing his second-in-command whole again was real, but it couldn't erase the shadow forming in his mind.
Ace and Sabo... brothers.
That changed everything.
Sabo would want to go to Marineford. Of course he would.
And Dragon knew, he knew that Sabo also understood that he didn't have the strength for that war. But even so... he would want to go.
And that was the problem.
Sabo wasn't needed in Marineford.
But he was indispensable in the three bridges operation.
Dragon frowned, trying to organize the flood of concerns. He looked at Jason, who was talking calmly with Robin, explaining that Luffy's suffering in Impel Down was part of his growth, a cruel but necessary refinement of the will of a D.
Dragonn trusts Ivankov and his almost miraculous abilities.
He believed in them.
And he believed even more in Luffy's indestructible stubbornness.
Luffy won't die.
He knew that.
But that didn't ease the weight that now crushed his shoulders.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
And then the truth hit him like a punch in the stomach:
They were too weak.
He always knew that the Holy Knights were dangerous, perhaps stronger than admirals, perhaps comparable to Yonkos. But immortal? Unlimited regeneration? Beings that, even when destroyed, could reconstitute themselves?
His own strategy, his own predictions...
They were all flawed.
And worst of all:
It wasn't exactly his fault.
But that didn't make the burden any lighter.
The idea of facing monsters he couldn't hurt with his own haki gnawed at Dragon inside.
The helplessness... the irritation... the growing sense of urgency.
I need to become stronger.
I need to master Ryou first.
I need to transform my Haoshoku into a weapon capable of hurting the soul... or I'll just be leading my men to slaughter.
He opened his eyes and looked at Jason again.
Jason... his only ally capable of facing those beings as an equal.
The man who talked about the secrets of the World Government as if he were commenting on the weather.
The man who treated the Holy Knights and the Gorosei as pieces on a board, not threats.
It was frustrating.
It was humiliating.
And at the same time... it was a relief that someone like that was on their side.
Dragon then realized something obvious and uncomfortable:
This alliance was absurdly more valuable to the Revolutionary Army than to Jason.
And everyone in the room knew it—
Dragon knew it.
Sabo knew it.
The commanders knew it.
Robin knew it.
Jason had made it clear from the start:
This alliance existed only because they shared the same goal.
Nothing more.
When the World Government fell...
Jason would go his own way.
Dragon took a deep breath.
He couldn't ask any more of someone like Jason.
But he also couldn't allow the revolutionaries to remain so fragile.
It was time for a change.
And fast.
Jason then opened his mouth to say something:
"I'm leaving for now. Those damn Goroseis are desperate, can you believe they sent a holy knight to escort Ace to Marineford? They're desperate, hahaha."
Jason said, laughing while everyone at the table looked at him in disbelief. He showed no fear, but rather amusement at a holy knight escorting Ace.
"Oh, yes, take good care of my Robin until I come back for her."
Jason finished, tucking a few strands of hair behind Robin's ear and kissing her forehead, leaving the archaeologist speechless.
Before anyone in the room could react, Jason took a step toward the door and his body began to slowly disappear, until his presence vanished completely from the room, leaving only silence and reluctant admiration.
Everyone was silent for a few seconds, but Dragon quickly showed why he was the leader and came up with a plan of attack, aiming to first attack the bridges' communications, leaving them completely cut off from the outside world.
Robin remained in the room after Jason left, perhaps because she had already heard everything from the beginning, or just because Jason said Robin was his. In any case, no one cared about that, and the strategy meetings lasted a few more hours.
==
Impel Down — Level 5.5
The mysterious Newkama Land never followed the rules of Impel Down.
Created by a prisoner who mastered an Akuma no Mi capable of digging tunnels, the place was a vibrant refuge hidden among the horrors of the prison.
There, everyone lived their own way: dancing, laughing, celebrating small freedoms within the world's greatest abyss.
But on that day, the routine was abruptly broken.
A colossal screen materialized in the center of the underground hall, illuminating the shocked faces of the prisoners.
No warning. No explanation. Just the raw, unvarnished truth, broadcast directly from the outside world.
They saw everything.
Every image.
Every word.
Every fall.
Jason appearing at the Celestial Dragons auction.
Jason executing one of them in front of everyone.
Jason freeing slaves in Tequila Wolf.
Jason destroying the entire bridge with a single snap of his fingers.
And his speech...
That speech pierced through the stone floor, passed through the makeshift lamps, and struck the souls of all who had ever been subjugated by the World Government.
Especially Ivankov.
He had experienced slavery.
He knew oppression.
And recognizing a man who fearlessly defied it... that ignited even the hearts of the most extravagant okamas.
When the screen disappeared, Ivankov's informants on the other floors filled in the rest of the picture:
riots everywhere, guards killed, levels in absolute chaos, executions to contain disorder.
Newkama Land continued to try to maintain its usual cheerfulness, but the mood had changed.
Something big was happening upstairs.
And then Inazuma appeared—carrying two unconscious bodies on his shoulders.
Silence fell like ice.
One glance was enough to recognize the boy in the straw hat... or rather, the near-corpse.
His skin was purple around the veins, covered in chemical burn wounds and trembling with spasms.
Pockets of poison burned beneath the flesh, and even the strongest okamas gulped at the sight of his condition.
"It's Magellan's poison... the worst of the worst..." murmured one of them, covered in tears.
Ivankov acted before fear spread.
With a face as serious as stone, he approached Luffy's body and, with a determined look, injected the hormones directly into his heart to further facilitate treatment.
"If he wants to live... he'll have to fight."
And Luffy's will... would be put to the test.
Hours passed.
Now, the entire 5.5 Floor reverberated with soul-tearing screams.
Cries so deep that even hardened veterans trembled.
Outside the room, Bon Clay remained on his knees, hands clasped, tears streaming down his face, as he shouted in time with Luffy's chaotic spasms:
"Hang in there, Mugi-chan! You can do it! You're strong! You have to live!"
With every passing minute, Luffy's blood splattered across the door, dripping onto the cold floor.
He struggled.
He suffered.
He screamed.
But above all...
He didn't give up.
And everyone could feel it.
The boy was fighting alone, but at the same time, he was not alone.
All of Newkama Land held its breath with him.
As everyone shouted, cried, and yelled to cheer Luffy on, the air shook.
A spatial distortion opened in the darkest corner of the cave, tearing through space as if it were paper.
Jason emerged from there, his steps steady, his eyes calm, his clothes ready for combat.
His presence made the entire environment compress, as if the air recognized something much greater than anyone there.
He watched everything calmly:
Luffy behind the chained door, screaming until his throat was raw...
Magellan's poison burning his life from within...
And time was running out, too fast for someone who needed miracles.
If Luffy continued like this, he would survive.
But he wouldn't recover in an hour.
And he certainly wouldn't arrive before Ace's execution.
Jason began to walk, slowly, unhurriedly, like someone who had already decided what to do.
As he moved, he noticed something strange...
The prison had returned to an artificial calm, and Shepherd Sommers was no longer in sight.
Jason frowned slightly.
He had seen EVERYTHING:
Sommers torturing Ace mentally with that repulsive calmness...
The taunts about Whitebeard dying because of him...
The thorns piercing Ace's skin, invisible to the human eye, designed to pass on pain to anyone who touched him.
Emotional pain amplified by the connection.
The more love for Ace... the more suffering.
Jason sighed.
"I hope he shows up at Marineford... the more he shows his face, the better."
His voice broke the silence:
"Do you think Luffy can get better in an hour?"
Ivankov's eyes widened. The question came so out of the blue that he needed a second to process it.
"Probably not!" Ivankov replied honestly, frowning.
"Magellan's poison is one of the most potent in the world! If he manages to get rid of it, it will take FIVE to TEN hours! My hormones aren't miracles! They just reinforce what the person already has, they don't create anything from scratch! If the boy faints... it's over."
Jason took a deep breath, as if accepting something inevitable.
"By then, the war will be over. Ace will already be dead."
He raised his head.
"I'll have to interfere now."
Ivankov and Inazuma turned toward the voice, ready to complain, argue, or ask what that intruder was saying.
But when they saw who it was, the world stopped.
A tall man.
Blue eyes as deep as the raging sea.
Tense muscles and the posture of someone who fears neither hell nor Magellan himself.
A face they had seen repeatedly on the big screen, in the newspapers, and in recent world legends.
"Y-Y-Y-YOU...!"
Ivankov shouted, pointing with a trembling hand.
His reaction was so exaggerated that his face almost turned into a living caricature, eyes bulging, mouth opening as far as his jaw would allow, legs shaking like jelly.
"J-J-JASON!!!"
With a dramatic yell worthy of the Newkamas, Ivankov jumped back and FLYED toward a wall, almost climbing the rock like a frightened lizard.
Jason laughed softly.
It was strange to see that live.
On screen it seemed exaggerated... but seeing Ivankov react like that in real life was even more entertaining.
Jason completely ignored Ivankov's antics and headed for the sealed door. As he passed Bentham, he placed his hand on his shoulder—a firm, warm touch, full of comforting energy.
Wounds closed, the poison burning inside Bon Clay's body began to dissipate, and vitality returned like a breath of fresh air.
Bentham's eyes widened, feeling energy restore even what he didn't know he had lost.
But when he saw Jason's back heading toward the door, emotion overwhelmed him.
He fell to his knees.
He rested his forehead on the floor.
And he begged—begged with his heart wide open—for Jason to save Luffy from that hell.
Jason paused for a moment.
That raw display of loyalty... he respected that.
He had seen many people die for honor, for loyalty, for a beloved leader—even enemies preferring death to disrespecting the boss who had died for them. That kind of devotion carried weight. Real weight.
For Jason, this was one of the greatest proofs of someone's leadership ability: when people choose to stand by them until the end.
It was impossible to mock that.
Jason vibrated his own body and walked through the door.
The smell hit him like a wall: coagulated blood, melted flesh, pus, acid, poison.
The scene inside the room was brutal—much worse than the anime could show.
Luffy was... devastated.
Naked, because the poison had devoured even his clothes.
His skin was raw, melted in places, his tongue and mucous membranes burned, his breathing labored.
His whole body was shaking—but he was still holding on.
"You must be suffering, kid."
Jason said softly.
Deep down, there was something strange and almost ironic about that situation.
When he was still human, a teenager lying in bed, eyes glued to his cell phone, Luffy was one of the characters who made him smile the most. A simple, charismatic, stubborn protagonist with a big heart. Jason grew up watching every episode, cheering, laughing, and getting excited about the straw hat's crazy antics.
And now...
Now he was there.
In the world that once existed only on screen.
Facing the same boy who had inspired him so many times, but now fallen, mutilated, and on the verge of death.
To have the chance to enter that universe and others that marked his childhood... and to be able to tamper with the gears of history, change courses, mess with destinies?
Of course he wasn't going to waste that.
But at that specific moment... it wasn't about changes or "messing things up."
It was just about saving the kid who was once part of his life.
"...A... Ace..."
Luffy choked, each word seeming to tear at his throat.
"Let's heal you first, kid."
Jason knelt down, placed his hand on the boy's chest, not caring about the poison or blood touching his hand.
A warm, almost maternal light spread throughout the boy's entire body, burning away the poison, reversing the damage, restoring his vitality that should have been sacrificed.
The poison evaporated into purple smoke.
The burst blisters on his skin closed.
The deadly air in the room was purified.
And new clothes covered Luffy.
Jason then looked away to the corner of the room... and almost laughed at the irony.
The legendary straw hat, symbol of dreams, promises, and legacies that spanned generations, was now there, half melted, twisted, barely recognizable.
It seemed like a joke.
In the anime and manga, that hat survived everything: storms, battles, monster punches, even the King's Haki seemed to have no effect on it. There was always someone sewing it, mending it... but destroyed? Never. It was as if Joy Boy, Roger, and Shanks had placed divine protection on that piece of straw.
But in the harsh reality before Jason...
The straw had melted like any other object treated with Magellan's poison.
Now, it was no longer a hat.
It was just a deformed piece of memory.
Jason sighed, carefully picked up what was left of it, and raised his hand. A blue energy coursed through the air, and the broken straw glowed as fibers reconnected, reinforced by his restoration magic.
In a few seconds, the iconic hat came back to life, flawless, new, almost radiating meaning.
"This is better," he thought.
Some things simply deserve to be preserved.
Two minutes later, Luffy's eyes opened.
First, confused.
Then... remembering.
His body trembled.
His breath caught.
His hand slid over his own skin, now intact, but remembering the pain from minutes ago.
When he looked up, Jason was there.
Steady.
Motionless.
Silent.
A pillar.
Luffy stood up unsteadily, like a child still learning to walk.
He took two faltering steps.
And then... his face broke.
He approached slowly...
And rested his head on Jason's chest.
His clenched fists trembled.
His eyes closed tightly.
A muffled sob escaped, so restrained that it felt like a knife twisting inside.
And then Luffy cried.
Silently.
Heavily.
Deeply.
There was no pirate captain there.
Nor the future Yonko.
Nor the heir to Joy Boy's will.
It was just Luffy.
A 17-year-old boy who almost died in pure agony.
Jason raised his hand and placed it on his head, not as a father, not as a commander, but as someone who knew how to recognize pain and courage.
It was a simple gesture.
But one laden with meaning.
Luffy collapsed there, without screams, without drama, without theater.
Just that tight, swallowed cry that escapes between faltering breaths...
The kind of cry that only comes when someone is finally safe.