The Marine battleship cut smoothly through the endless blue, its hull gleaming under the afternoon sun.
Darren stood at the bow, cigar between his lips, hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. The sea breeze tore at his justice coat, sending it whipping behind him like a banner of defiance. His sharp gaze swept the distant horizon, where sky and water bled into one unbroken line.
"Vice Admiral Darren, sir! What are our next orders?"
A young Marine Lieutenant approached at a brisk pace. His uniform was immaculate, his salute crisp. Though still green, his eyes shone with unshakable admiration for the man before him.
Darren turned, his expression softening into a wry smile. "You seem awfully eager, Arthur."
"Yes, sir!" the young officer said earnestly, his excitement barely contained. "It's my first time serving directly under your command!"
Darren chuckled. He'd grown rather fond of the kid—Arthur's energy reminded him of Dragon, back before the fire of rebellion had consumed him. Bright, idealistic, brave to a fault.
Arthur had proven himself during the Coin Island incident against the Charlotte brothers, showing both grit and intelligence. Darren had remembered that, and after the war, personally requested his transfer from Sengoku.
"This mission may not live up to your expectations," Darren said with an amused smirk, clapping the young man's shoulder. "Still, give it your all. I'll be watching."
Arthur's face lit up scarlet. He saluted so fast it nearly threw him off balance. "Yes, sir! I won't disappoint you!"
As the young Lieutenant dashed off to resume his duties, Darren's low chuckle drifted out over the waves.
Then—brrring—the Den Den Mushi in his pocket buzzed.
He raised an eyebrow, plucking it free. "Momonga?"
The snail's face molded into his comrade's stern features. "Have you returned to the North Blue yet?" Momonga's tone carried a tension Darren didn't often hear from him.
"Not yet. Why?" Darren asked, frowning.
"There's been… a development." Momonga's voice lowered. "After thinking it through, I decided it's best you handle this personally."
That alone was enough to set off alarm bells in Darren's mind. "Go on."
"One of the individuals on your list has shown up in the North Blue," Momonga said grimly. "He attacked one of our smaller bases—not a single death so far—but he's made his intentions perfectly clear."
Darren's brow furrowed. "What intentions?"
The snail mimicked Momonga's uneasy grimace. "He's demanding a fight with the so-called 'King of the North Blue.' He's been shouting it for hours."
Darren blinked, caught between surprise and amusement. "You're telling me someone sailed into my territory just to challenge me?"
Momonga's answer was flat, dead serious. "Yes. Gekko Moria."
Darren fell silent.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
He exhaled a long, smoke-filled sigh. "Before his humiliation at Kaido's hands, he already had a death wish."
"Well," he muttered after a beat, flicking his cigar into the sea, "guess he's saving me the trouble."
---
North Blue — 327th Marine Base.
The harbor was a wasteland. Three Marine battleships lay in ruin, their hulls cracked and smoking, blackened masts jutting out of the sea like bones. The scent of charred gunpowder hung heavy in the air.
Amid the wreckage, a monstrous figure lounged atop the remains of a fortress turret, his legs crossed leisurely.
He was massive—nearly seven meters tall—with long, wiry limbs and skin as pale as death. Jagged horns curved from his temples, and his fiery crimson hair rose in sharp points like flames. Dressed in an elaborate gothic outfit, his open-collared shirt and flared cuffs fluttered in the wind.
Resting against his shoulder was a grotesque, serrated greatsword nearly as tall as he was.
His grin was wide. Too wide.
"I've made the call," Momonga said flatly, lowering the Den Den Mushi. The faint hum of electricity flickered between his fingertips, his patience visibly thinning. "Darren's on his way. Now, return their shadows, Gekko Moria."
The towering pirate's grin widened, revealing sharp fangs. "Kishishishi… what's the rush, Vice Admiral?"
A pool of pitch-black shadow rippled beneath him, coiling like smoke. It rose and twisted into eerie shapes, distorting the sunlight that fell over the ruined base.
"You Marines really don't know how to have fun, do you?"
Momonga's expression didn't change, though the blue arcs around his fingers flared brighter. "Fun isn't exactly part of my job description."
Moria ignored him, his eyes glinting with manic amusement. "The 'King of the North Blue'—I've heard that name whispered even back in West Blue," he sneered, his voice dripping with derision. "A Marine who killed Golden Lion Shiki. I've always wondered—what kind of man could do that?"
His laughter echoed off the shattered walls.
"I was born in West Blue," he went on, gesturing lazily with his sword. "I carved my way across the seas—through blood and shadows. I conquered West Blue. I conquered Paradise. And just before stepping into the New World, I heard the news…"
His grin sharpened. "That the man I'd always dreamed of fighting—Golden Lion Shiki—had been killed."
The pirate's crimson eyes gleamed.
"By him."
He leaned forward, voice rising into a manic cackle. "Kishishishishishi! So tell me—before I claim my rightful place among the greats, why shouldn't I first conquer the sea ruled by the man who stole my fight?"
The shadows behind him writhed violently, swelling into a monstrous silhouette that blocked out the sun.
Momonga's jaw tightened. Around him, his subordinates cowered in the shade of crumbling walls, avoiding even the thinnest beam of light. Their bodies trembled—not from pain, but from the knowledge that a single step into the sun would reduce them to dust.
That was the curse of Moria's Shadow-Shadow Fruit.
Their lives—every breath they took—belonged to him.
Momonga's voice dropped, cold and even. "You've made a mistake coming here, Gekko Moria."
The pirate only laughed louder, throwing his head back. "Kishishishishi! Oh, we'll see about that. Let the so-called King of the North Blue come—I'll carve his crown right off his skull!"
The sun burned above, cruel and bright, as the sea wind carried the echo of his laughter across the smoking ruins.
To be continued...