I perched above the chaos like a hawk, my boots planted on the slick wooden rail of Newgate's ship. Below, the sea roared with the echo of cannon fire, the clash of steel, and screams of men. Salt burned my eyes, but I didn't blink. Not yet.
The first wave of Rock pirates' commanders — John and Silver Axe — were mid-battle, pressed against Xer's unrelenting force. John moved with a precise, calculated efficiency. Every strike, every step, minimized losses. He was the sort of fighter who weighed consequences like a chess player — deliberate, methodical.
Silver Axe, in contrast, threw himself into every swing with raw, unbridled force. Every ounce of strength poured into each attack, leaving nothing in reserve. He was chaos incarnate, the perfect counter to unpredictability, and a dangerous complement to John's restraint.
And Xer? He was a predator in the field, calculated yet brutal. Every parry, every strike, every step crushed plank and bone alike. He pressed them back, but not enough to kill — yet. Only enough to remind them that they were out of their league, mere toys in his grasp.
I didn't intervene. My interest was elsewhere. I tested a bullet, heating it slowly, feeling the metal pulse under my fingers. Golden light shimmered across its surface, clashing with the corrupt Black Heaven energy that warred inside me.
I let the first shot fly. It grazed a Marine, burning his arm as he lunged at one of Newgate's men. He screamed, dropped, scrambled away. A second shot tore through a railing, detonating a ladder and sending men tumbling into the sea. Chaos rippled in slow, deliberate waves.
Good. I noted their reactions. Fear spread faster than coordinated orders. Even elite Marines faltered, their discipline cracking under invisible pressure.
Xer's focus, however, never wavered. His gaze moved like a predator sensing prey. He had felt the heat, the intrusion, and subtly adjusted his Haki to detect the source. He wasn't aware of me yet — not fully — but his attention had shifted, his instincts screaming that something was there.
"Why are you here?" Xer's voice carried over the frontlines. John and Silver couldn't answer. They only had orders from Rocks, and they had no clue what they were facing.
John gritted his teeth, swinging at Xer's incoming fist. Xer sidestepped, counters precise and crushing. John was sent skidding backward, ribs colliding with a broken mast. Blood mixed with sweat on his brow.
Silver Axe roared, swinging again, a desperate flurry of power. Xer deflected, stepping in, driving him back with the blunt force of a seasoned New World combatant. Each blow left him bleeding, bruised, arms trembling.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the heat of my next round. I wasn't aiming to kill Xer, only to test timing, precision, and my control over the Devil Fruit. My body remembered every failure, every scrape, every death I had survived. This was instinct, raw and unrefined, yet disciplined by countless survival loops I had endured.
The Marines, meanwhile, began faltering under the chaos. Cannons misfired, decks splintered, and screams echoed as bullets I fired struck without warning. Each strike burned, displaced, terrified. They had no clue where the attacks came from, only that fire and chaos were raining down on them.
From above, Newgate's laugh was quiet but distinct, carrying across the waves. He hadn't seen the shots directly but could sense the experiment unfolding. No killing intent, I imagined he thought. Just control. Obsessed with precision and timing.
Sengoku's fleet pressed in, elite flanking units moving methodically. Tsuru coordinated, her calm voice slicing through the confusion, covering the gaps, repositioning squads. "Sengoku, the flanking units are holding, but casualties are mounting. We underestimated the rear guard."
"I see it," Sengoku replied, jaw clenched. "Hold the pressure. We'll force them into retreat."
Below, John faltered again, staggering under Xer's relentless hammering. Silver Axe roared a final swing, blood streaked across his face, sweat mixing with saltwater. They fought for survival, not victory. Their resilience was remarkable, but the battlefield belonged to Xer.
I let another bullet heat, golden and humming. The energy pulsed in my chest, the struggle between my golden crow energy and the corrupt Black Heaven Ki tangible. I fired a shot, grazing another Marine, igniting a small explosion. Panic surged across the deck, Marines screaming and diving for cover.
Xer's head flicked in the direction of the shot. He had sensed it — heat, energy, timing. His minor Haki flared, deflecting a grazing bullet that could have killed him had it hit even slightly off. His gaze narrowed, seeking the source, tracing the invisible tremor I left in the air.
"Focus," I whispered to myself. The golden heat hummed along the barrel. I wasn't ready to kill, only to test limits. The next shot would be precise.
Sengoku's fleet pressed forward, but even the disciplined sailors faltered at the chaotic frontline. The Marines were seasoned, elite, but the clash with New World veterans exposed their fragility.
Then it happened. The moment I had been waiting for. The heat pulsed perfectly. I fired.
The bullet screamed across the battlefield.
Xer's Haki flared. He intercepted it, deflecting the shot from his temple. A faint burn grazed him — enough to be painful, a warning, a mark that could have killed any human. Time froze for a heartbeat. Ships slowed, Marines blinked in disbelief, John and Silver faltered mid-strike.
Xer's eyes scanned the battlefield, pinpointing the invisible source. The boy — myself — perched above it all.
Newgate's quiet laughter rippled through the air, his amusement palpable. He hadn't seen the shot directly but guessed exactly what had occurred. I remained still, detached, the battlefield alive beneath me.
Tsuru exhaled softly. "He's alive… he's here. And he's not part of the main force."
Sengoku's gaze hardened. "Keep him under surveillance. Do not underestimate him."
Then the golden light tore across the horizon. Shiki had arrived.
Instinctively, the Marines began retreating. Even elite squads faltered, abandoning flanks, leaving positions open. Shiki's presence was enough. He didn't fight yet, but that didn't matter — fear was enough.
I lowered my rifle slightly. My experiments had concluded for now. I had learned timing, control, the delicate dance between my energy and the corrupted force inside me. The battlefield would not forget this day.
Newgate's Fishman helmsman moved decisively, retrieving John and Silver from the frontlines, ensuring they wouldn't be trapped. Chaos reigned, but survival was possible.
I remained perched, detached, watching as the last of the Marines fled. Xer's gaze lingered on me, knowing I existed, sensing danger but unaware of my full potential. The battlefield, shattered and scarred, seemed to breathe.
And I knew, from this height, from this vantage, that everything I had tested, every near-miss, every pulse of heat, was only the beginning.
The sun dipped low, casting long shadows. The world was changing, the New World waiting. And I, perched above it all, silent and golden, was ready.
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