The waters around Doragonzo Island.
Calendar, February 11, Year 1475.
Weather: cloudy skies, light winds.
"The Holy Island feels a little deserted lately. Why are there so few people?"
A pirate from one of the guild crews stepped onto Madagascar Island, one of the Eighteen Hell Islands. This island had once been the stronghold of Diger Sparrow, an overlord of his era. Even now, Madagascar remained more prosperous than its neighbors—second only to the jewel of the Hell Islands, Doragenzo Island.
"Maybe everyone went up to Sky Island," another pirate muttered, scratching his head. "I heard only the official members of the Hell Pirates can go there. With how much Lord Brook and his crew plundered in those last two battles, they're probably throwing a festival in the sky right now."
The man's tone was half envy, half resignation. Their captain had refused to pledge loyalty to Brook, choosing instead to register their crew under the Hell Pirates' guild system. Without that protection, they wouldn't even have the guts to dock here. The Hell Pirates were too powerful now—untouchable.
"Hm? What's that up there in the clouds? Is it Golden Lion Shiki dropping another island?"
One of the men pointed. A glimmer of light flashed across the overcast sky. It wasn't unusual—Shiki's floating fleet was always rising and descending, dragging islands with it. None of them thought much of it.
"Maybe it's a concert," another joked. "The Hell Pirates love their theatrics. Look, the light's getting brighter!"
But the next second, harsh alarms wailed across every island of the chain.
"What's going on? Some kind of show?"
"Shut up! That's no show!"
Before panic could spread, the shadow in the clouds blazed, unleashing a blinding energy beam. Galle Island—once called Ten Kings Island—vanished in a flash of light.
"BOOOOM!!!"
The shockwave tore through the skies, flattening everything in its path. Buildings toppled on Madagascar, though it was spared the brunt of the blast. A towering tsunami, more than ten meters high, surged outward, smashing across the coasts.
"Run! Someone's attacking the Hell Pirates!!"
Cries of terror spread like wildfire. Had they been on Galle Island, they would have been vaporized instantly.
"That power… it destroyed an entire island in one shot! Don't tell me… Uranus?"
An old pirate's voice cracked as he screamed. "The World Government! They've finally made their move!"
Everyone knew it. For eight hundred years, the World Government had reigned supreme. And now, Brook's rise had provoked retaliation.
"No! Look—it's coming this way!"
Above Yindu Island, the colossal shadow descended again. Its glow turned white, brighter and brighter, until the pirates screamed in despair.
"No escape… we're finished—!"
The beam fell. The island was erased in silence, swallowed by light. Pirates, homes, forests—everything reduced to ash. The blast scoured even the bedrock, shearing away a thick layer of earth until nothing remained.
Had it not been conserving energy, the Celestial Dragons' "national treasure" could have shattered the island entirely, sinking it beneath the sea.
Inside the weapon, a man laughed.
"Haha! Glorious! These vermin deserve annihilation!"
The God Knight Zebai's face was flushed with excitement. Yet confusion soon replaced his glee. Two islands had been destroyed… and still, the Hell Pirates had not appeared.
"Lord Imu!" Zebai shouted. "Let us strike Doragonzo Arlan Island itself! Crush their main stronghold and drag Brook out!"
As though answering his plea, the "national treasure" banked in the sky, angling toward Doragenzo—the most prosperous and fortified island of Brook's empire.
"No! Not the Holy Island!"
From neighboring coasts, pirates wailed. Doragenzo was treasure-laden: air-shell cannons, seastone weapons, forbidden ES serums, even black-market "murder pills." If the island was destroyed, all of it would vanish with it.
Some cursed their own helplessness. If only they had the strength to plunder a little before its doom.
Above the island, the heavens blazed white. The end was seconds away.
"Damn you—IMU!!!"
Just as the energy beam roared forth, another blast tore from the horizon. A titanic wave of power slammed into the "national treasure," knocking its colossal frame back. The beam veered, tearing into the ocean and sparing Doragenzo by a hair's breadth.
The shock nearly threw Zebai to the ground. Machines sparked around him, alarms shrieking.
"Warning! Warning! Shield integrity down ninety percent! Replenishing now!"
"Shields restored! Remaining energy reserves: 4.2 layers!"
The God Knight staggered upright, bewildered by the jargon. Far away, in the Holy Land of Mariejois, Imu narrowed his eyes.
Only one thing could unleash such power.
"…Pluton."
"BOOM!!!"
The second strike landed. The "national treasure" shuddered again.
"Warning! Shield integrity down eighty-nine percent! Replenishing!"
"Shields restored. Remaining energy reserves: 3.9 layers!"
Through its sensors, Imu saw the impossible: Pluton, rising from the skies.
"How…?!" Imu's composure cracked. "Even I could never find it! And a pirate—Brook—dared to steal it from under me?!"
His fury simmered. Not even the World Government had recovered Plutom's blueprints, let alone the weapon itself. And now it floated above the sea, borne aloft by Shiki's Float-Float Fruit, dueling his most sacred treasure.
Unforgivable.
The "national treasure" turned its cannons toward Pluton. Beams clashed midair, explosions rocking the seas.
On the islands below, pirates cowered and gaped in awe.
"What… what are we seeing?"
Two flying warships dueled in the skies, their beams carving daylight into the clouds. One, a steel monstrosity born of ancient legend. The other, the hidden weapon of the Celestial Dragons.
It was like a scene from another world—like something out of myth or a storybook.
For pirates who still sailed in wooden ships, it was a vision both terrifying and unforgettable.
------------
A feathered serpent burst from the flying fleet, diving straight toward the Celestial Dragons' "national treasure." All the cadres of the Hell Pirates unleashed their strongest attacks against the massive weapon.
"Warning! Warning! Shield energy decreasing. Activating protection mode. Recharging automatically."
"Shield replenished. Remaining energy: 3.7 layers."
"…3.5 layers."
"…3.4 layers."
The mechanical voice echoed again and again, each announcement making the God Knight Zebai's unease grow.
Where was the overwhelming dominance he had imagined?
Why… why did the Hell Pirates also command an ancient weapon capable of standing against the Celestial Dragons' ultimate treasure?
"Zebai! Pay attention!" Imu's voice thundered into his mind. "Brook is coming for you. Stop him."
The knight jolted as if struck. He had almost forgotten his mission: to prevent Brook's soul from invading the "national treasure."
Without hesitation, Zebai raised his hands, erecting a barrier within the shield itself, layering his fruit's defense atop the weapon's own protection.
Brook, meanwhile, had mounted the Seven-Star Demon Sword Quetzalcoatl, his eyes burning with desire. If he could strike with his soul again, perhaps he could seize the weapon outright.
He soared forward and let his spirit tear from his body, hurling it at the enemy fortress.
"BANG!!"
Brook recoiled as if smashing into an invisible wall. His soul scattered in pain.
Imu had anticipated it. A laser turret swiveled with deadly precision, a beam of pure destruction screaming toward Brook's disoriented soul.
Too slow.
Just as the beam was about to pierce him, the Seven-Star Demon Sword flipped in midair, dragging its master away. Brook tumbled back onto its hilt, breathless but alive.
"This master is useless," the sword's spirit mocked. "Always relying on me to save him."
Brook gritted his teeth. He'd been careless. Against an ancient monster like Imu, the same trick would never work twice.
On Pluton's deck, chaos reigned. Kozuki Oden staggered, pale as death, blood drained from his body. Around him, the leaders of the Hell Pirates pushed themselves to their limits.
Redfield's lightning split the heavens.
Shiki's slashing waves carved the clouds.
Charlotte Linlin hurled storms of fire and thunder.
Kaido roared, his heat breath scorching the air.
Beside them, the imitation Pluton cannons fired their energy blasts, joining the desperate onslaught.
"Warning. Energy reserves: 3.0 layers… 2.9 layers…"
The voice inside the "national treasure" ticked downward, but the shield still held.
"No matter how you struggle," Imu whispered coldly, "you cannot outlast me."
It was true—the sacrifices he had made of the Nefertari clan had filled the weapon with power. Even this ferocious assault couldn't pierce it.
Pluton's attacks waned. Smoke billowed from its hull. And the "national treasure," relentless, gave chase.
Eight centuries ago he had failed to destroy Pluton. Now, Imu vowed, there would be no mercy.
Brook's face twisted with fury. He had thought he understood the "national treasure's" strength. He had underestimated it. That first clash had been nothing but luck—a dead cat meeting a dead mouse.
He streaked across the sky, landing on the hull of the "national treasure" itself. Ghostly generals surged behind him. With every strike of the Seven-Star Demon Sword, he chipped at the barrier, point by point.
Inside, Imu watched calmly as Pluton bled smoke and fire, tumbling toward the sea.
"Warning. Energy reserves: 2.0 layers… 1.9 layers…"
Even if Pluton was destroyed, the "national treasure" would be drained nearly dry. Still, Im showed no hesitation. Destroying Pluton was worth any cost.
"Finish it," he commanded.
The weapon's turrets flared, building to a cataclysmic charge.
On Pluton, Vegapunk's scientists screamed. Red warning lights flared across every console.
Brook, still hacking at the shield, felt despair gnaw at him. His gambit had failed. Vegapunk, his crew, even Oden—they were all about to be annihilated.
He cursed himself. He had underestimated the enemy. He had gambled Pluton's life too soon.
Imu's voice, cold and certain, drifted across the distance.
"Let Pluton be destroyed here. That fool Brook drags it like a toy into battle, ignorant of how to awaken it. A wasted weapon. A wasted age."
The "national treasure's" cannons fired.
Then—
A radiant barrier flared into existence around Pluton, intercepting the blast. The energy struck, shuddered, and dispersed, leaving the battleship smoking but intact.
Imu froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"They… blocked it?"
Inside Pluton, miracles and blood had bought them one last chance.
Kozuki Oden collapsed against the console, blood streaming from his wounds. Beside him, Kozuki Sukiyaki gasped for air, his robes soaked crimson.
And in the corner, the ship's doctor Crocus swayed, his hair turned white. He had burned his lifespan itself, wielding the forbidden power of the Healing Fruit to drag Oden and Sukiyaki back from death.
They had shed their blood twice—once to empower the cannons, and again to shield Pluton itself. And still they clung to life, sustained only by rare blood-crystal dandelions.
On the deck, Brook and the others gaped.
"They're alive?! Pluton still stands?!"
Shiki's laugh cracked the air. Newagte bellowed in relief. Even Redfield's stern face softened.
"It's Abefu and the others," Redfield explained, his voice calm amidst the storm. "They returned with Sukiyaki at the last moment. That's why Pluton endures."
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