The office of Fleet Admiral Sakazuki smelled of ash and hot stone.
Magma veins pulsed through the walls—not the decorative kind, but the kind that responded to his mood. Today, they glowed a deep, simmering orange, casting long shadows across the black marble floor. The desk was simple: dark wood, scarred, functional. A single transponder snail sat in the center, its shell polished to a dull sheen.
Sakazuki sat behind the desk, his massive frame filling the chair. His red suit was immaculate. His Marine cap sat on the corner of the desk, revealing his scarred face—the deep burn that pulled at the corner of his mouth, the hard line of his jaw. His fists rested on the armrests, knuckles white.
The transponder snail's eyes shifted. Its mouth moved in the shape of Aramaki's lazy grin.
"Sakazuki-san. You rang?"
Sakazuki did not return the greeting. "Egghead was a disaster. Vegapunk's satellites are gone. The Seraphim are compromised. And you were nowhere near the operation."
"That wasn't my assignment." Aramaki's voice carried a casual shrug. "I was handling the New World. Keeping the peace."
"Keeping the peace." Sakazuki's voice dropped lower. "Is that what you call losing Kushi Island?"
The snail's grin faded.
"I didn't lose Kushi."
"You lost Kushi." Sakazuki rose from his chair. "An island that had been under Kaido's protection for two decades. An island with no standing army. An island defended by a handful of Coast Guard sailors and a girl who wasn't even a pirate a year ago."
"The Dracule girl." Aramaki's voice tightened. "She's not—"
"She is Mihawk's daughter. She commands a Void Century submarine. And she ran you off her island." Sakazuki walked to the window, his back to the snail. "You, an Admiral of the Navy. Defeated by a rookie."
"I wasn't defeated—"
"Then what would you call it?"
The snail's eyes narrowed. Its mouth curled into a sneer.
"A tactical withdrawal. The island's defenses were... unconventional. There was some kind of ancient mechanism. The Sigillum. It activated. I blacked out. When I woke up, my forest was gone."
"Your forest." Sakazuki turned. "You mean the forest you grew to terrorize civilians and crush enemy ships. Gone. Because a twenty-something girl with a cursed sword decided you didn't belong there."
"You're enjoying this."
"I am not enjoying anything." Sakazuki returned to his desk. He placed both palms flat on the surface and leaned forward. "I am trying to understand how an Admiral of the Navy lost to someone who wasn't even in the bounties a year ago."
"She had help. The Red Hair Pirates put their flag on her ship. Shanks is involved."
"Shanks was not on that island. The Red Hair Pirates were not on that island. It was you and her. And you lost."
The snail was silent for a long moment.
Then Aramaki's voice came through—harder now, defensive.
"You weren't there, Sakazuki-san. You don't know what it was like. The Sigillum—it wasn't just a weapon. It was alive. It responded to her. And when those bells started ringing..."
"Bells."
"Nine bells. Like a funeral. And then the reapers appeared. Nine of them. Tall as giants. Their scythes cut through my branches like they were paper." Aramaki's voice dropped. "I've faced Yonko commanders. I've fought in wars. I've never felt anything like that."
Sakazuki's jaw tightened.
"Excuses."
"Observations."
"Excuses," Sakazuki repeated. "The Dracule girl is a threat. We knew that when we learned she had the submarine. But we treated her like a curiosity. An anomaly. Something to monitor." He slammed his fist on the desk. The magma veins in the walls flared brighter. "Now she has an island. Now she has a flag. Now she has a reputation. And you—you gave her that reputation."
"I—"
"You gave her a victory over an Admiral. Do you understand what that means? Every pirate in the New World is talking about her. Every revolutionary is looking at her. Every Celestial Dragon is asking why the Navy can't protect them."
The snail's eyes widened.
"That's not fair—"
"Fair?" Sakazuki's voice rose. "Fair has nothing to do with it. You are an Admiral. You are supposed to be the Navy's strongest weapon. Instead, you became a stepping stone for a girl who wasn't even a blip on our radar six months ago."
"What was I supposed to do? Stay and die? The Sigillum—"
"You were supposed to adapt. To overcome. To find a way." Sakazuki pointed at the snail. "That is what Admirals do. That is what you are paid to do. Not retreat. Not make excuses. Not black out while a rookie plants a pirate flag on an island you were ordered to secure."
Aramaki's voice came through colder now.
"You know, Sakazuki-san, not everyone can be you. Not everyone can turn everything to magma and call it justice. Some of us have limitations."
"Is that what you call them? Limitations?"
"I call them reality."
Sakazuki's eyes narrowed. "You refused orders at Wano. You went after Luffy even when I told you to stand down. You acted on your own. And now—now you want to talk about limitations?"
"That was different."
"How?"
"Because I was right." Aramaki's voice rose. "Luffy was vulnerable. The alliance was exhausted. If I had captured him then, the whole war would have ended. But no—you ordered me to retreat. To wait. To play politics while the next Emperor of the Sea sailed away."
"And if you had been defeated? If Kaido's remaining forces had rallied? If the samurai had—"
"If, if, if." Aramaki's laugh was sharp. "You sound like the Five Elders. Always worried about what might happen. Never willing to take a risk."
Sakazuki's hands curled into fists.
"I take risks every day. I sent you to Kushi because I trusted you to secure it. And you failed."
"I didn't fail. The island was cursed. The girl was—"
"The girl was a rookie."
"The girl was Dracule Mihawk's daughter!"
"And that makes her invincible?" Sakazuki leaned forward. "Mihawk himself was a Warlord. Beatable. Contained. His daughter is not her father. She is a child playing pirate. And you let her win."
The snail's eyes blazed.
"You want to talk about winning? What about Egghead? What about Vegapunk? What about the Seraphim that got stolen right under your nose?"
Sakazuki's jaw tightened.
"That is not—"
"It is exactly the same." Aramaki's voice dripped with contempt. "You're so focused on my failure that you're ignoring your own. The World Government is losing, Sakazuki-san. Egghead. Kushi. And soon, Amiso—"
"Amiso is why I called."
The snail's expression shifted. Curiosity replaced anger.
"Amiso?"
"The Celestial Dragons are hosting an event there. A demonstration. A chance for them to remind the world of their... divinity." Sakazuki's voice dripped with disgust. "The World Government wants additional security. Your fleet is the closest."
"You want me to babysit Celestial Dragons."
"I want your fleet to provide support. I want you to return to headquarters."
A pause.
"Return? Why?"
Sakazuki walked to the wall behind his desk. A map of the world stretched across it—the Red Line, the Grand Line, the four Blues. Red pins marked trouble spots. Black pins marked losses. Egghead. Kushi. A dozen others.
"Because you are compromised, Aramaki. Your judgment is questionable. Your performance is unacceptable. And I need you where I can watch you."
"You're demoting me."
"I am reassigning you." Sakazuki turned. "Your fleet goes to Amiso. You come to headquarters. You will assist with strategic planning. You will not leave Marineford without my approval."
"This is ridiculous."
"This is necessary."
"I am an Admiral—"
"You are an Admiral who lost to a rookie." Sakazuki's voice was flat. "Until you prove otherwise, you will follow my orders. Do you understand?"
The snail's eyes burned.
"And if I refuse?"
Sakazuki walked back to his desk. He picked up his cap. Turned it over in his hands.
"Then I will consider your refusal an act of insubordination. And I will treat it accordingly."
A long silence.
"...Fine." Aramaki's voice was tight. "I'll send the fleet to Amiso. I'll come to headquarters. But I want it noted that I'm doing this under protest."
"Noted."
"And I want a better office."
"You will take the office you are given."
"You're impossible."
"Justice is not about being easy."
The snail's mouth curled into a bitter grin.
"Enjoy your victory, Sakazuki-san. But remember—the sea has a way of humbling everyone. Even Fleet Admirals."
Sakazuki reached forward and pressed the receiver.
"Sakazuki—"
The connection ended.
Sakazuki sat alone in his office.
The magma veins in the walls pulsed slower now. The shadows stretched longer. The transponder snail retracted into its shell, its job done.
He picked up his cap. Placed it on his head. Adjusted the brim.
Outside his window, the sun began to set over Marineford. The harbor glittered. The ships rested at anchor. Somewhere out there, in the vast blue expanse, enemies gathered.
A girl with her father's eyes and a ship from a forgotten age.
A boy with a rubber body and an unbreakable will.
And somewhere in the Holy Land, Celestial Dragons prepared for an event that would showcase their power—oblivious to the storms gathering on their horizon.
Sakazuki stood.
He walked to the window.
He watched the darkness fall.
The magma veins glowed one last time—deep red, like blood—and then went still.
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