Fish-Man Island fell into a deathly hush.
The sea of clouds split apart.
Hanging overhead was a sky-piercing demon blade, a colossal black sword as wide as a medium ship and so long it vanished into the heavens. Its razor tip pointed straight down at the Oro Jackson.
It hung motionless, and yet dread poured off it in waves, a suffocating terror that pressed on every chest.
"Th-this…" King Neptune stared upward, heart hammering as the impossible scene filled his vision.
He wasn't alone.
Across the island, millions of Fish-Men stiffened in collective panic.
They recognized it.
All of them did.
The same demon blade that had speared Golden Lion's floating island in the Marineford battle.
"We're doomed…" Neptune swallowed, fingers shaking around the Golden Trident.
What if… what if it pierced through?
A vision seized him: Fish-Man Island impaled; the protective bubble bursting; the deep sea crashing in—a deluge, and then silence.
"Annihilate them, Enma."
The voice was flat, like judgment handed down by a god.
Zzzzz…
Blue arcs of electricity crawled along Enma's vast edge. The sky rumbled. Driven by a boiling magnetic field, the colossal blade began its mad descent toward the Oro Jackson.
Friction reddened the air around it. Then the red went to flame.
A god's verdict.
A strike born to crush hope.
"Hahahaha! Young Darren, you actually pulled off something like this?!"
Roger's big, rolling laugh shook the air.
Boom!
A crimson storm erupted from him. Black-red lightning wove into a net that seemed to cover the sky. Wrapped in that Haki-fueled gale, Roger vaulted from the deck like a vengeful ghost, eyes locked on the falling blade, resolve carved into his face.
His long sword dragged a tail of black-red current as he roared with laughter and swung up into the oncoming mass.
Against Enma's celestial plunge, he was a moth diving into a flame.
And yet the force pouring off his joy and his will rose to meet the Blade of Judgment, and for a heartbeat even awe-struck eyes could not decide which was greater.
Roger met Enma head-on.
Boom!
The shockwave rippled in rings that swept the island, sending sand and stone flying. All across Fish-Man Island, people dropped to their knees, faces twisted with fear.
Enma's fall faltered.
"I stopped it!" Roger shouted, laughing as he gripped the hilt in both hands.
The laugh died.
"No, I didn't!"
Power beyond understanding surged through the giant blade, slammed into him like a tide, and drove his small body back, inch by inch.
But it was enough. Enma's angle shifted, its momentum bled away.
Instead of punching through the Oro Jackson, the blade raked along her side, tearing off planks, splintering the deck. The ship's coating shook near to shattering, and dread clawed through the crew.
"Now!" Rayleigh roared, eyes bloodshot.
"Here it comes!" Gaban barked.
Men grabbed whatever they could, clinging on by instinct.
A massive cannon barrel rose from the stern, swirling with white light.
A rope snapped across the deck, looped Roger's neck with ridiculous precision, and yanked tight before he could blink.
BOOM!
The air cannon fired. The Oro Jackson lunged forward, smashed through Fish-Man Island's shattered gates, and plunged into the deep.
Behind them, Enma's titanic blade slammed into the ground. The impact rolled the earth, coughing up a wall of dust that spread like a second shockwave.
---
Deep Sea.
The fairy-tale colors of Fish-Man Island dwindled behind them, swallowed by the endless black.
The Oro Jackson steadied, threading the depths.
"Hahahaha! We made it again!" Roger collapsed onto the deck, tearing the rope from his neck. Dancing on the edge of death had left him giddy, alive down to the marrow.
Around him, men lay where they fell, chests heaving, dignity forgotten—shipwreck survivors in all but name.
Too close.
The memory of that sky-splitting strike replayed in their minds—helplessness and dread pooling in their eyes.
If Roger hadn't met that blade, the Oro Jackson would have been splinters in a heartbeat.
No ship meant no escape from Fish-Man Island.
And when the Marines arrived, the net would close.
"I never want to see that Marine again… He's scarier than Garp!" Buggy whimpered, crouched with his arms over his head, trembling so hard his teeth clicked. Other opponents could be faced. That Marine struck to kill. Every time.
Beside him, Shanks pressed cracked lips together, silent, grim.
"Oden, what is it?" Rayleigh asked, catching the wrongness at a glance.
Everyone froze.
Oden sagged, gray with blood loss, eyes tight with pain. His fist clenched until the knuckles blanched.
"My sword… Ame no Habakiri…"
They stared. His scabbard was empty. Lost in the chaos?
Before anyone could answer, Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban stiffened. A crimson glint flickered in their eyes as they swung toward the dark ahead.
A hard white searchlight speared the deep. A dog-headed Battleship, coating gleaming, shouldered through the current.
A towering figure stood at the prow, arms crossed, cape snapping. The force rolling off him was raw and absolute.
"Bwahahaha! Roger! Finally caught you, eh?!"
The Marine Hero… "Fist" Garp!!
To be continued...