The journey from the Red Force was a heavy, silent affair. Shanks's revelation had settled over their small, high-speed ship like a physical weight. Zeff was unusually quiet, his eyes on the horizon, lost in thoughts of a bygone era and the sheer, insane scale of the new one. Bullet was radiating a new level of intense, focused anger, disgusted by the very concept of a "chosen one." Kuzan was silently contemplating the sea, the political implications of a living Sun God turning over and over in his mind.
Ace stood at the helm, his mind a whirlwind. In his pocket, the strange, red-green fruit he'd retrieved from Dawn Island felt heavier than a mountain. The Cell-Cell Fruit. He had thought of giving it to one of the commanders, a way to bolster their strength. But now...
He thought of Blackbeard. Of Big Mom. Of Akainu, and the silent, ever-present threat of Imu. They needed more than just strength. They needed a miracle. He looked at his own hands. He needed someone who could fix what was broken. Someone with the medical knowledge to fully cure Whitebeard, to bring the legend back from the brink not just for a minute, but for good.
As they approached the Grand Line's entrance, the colossal Red Line loomed before them. And with it, a sound.
A long, mournful, and unbelievably loud cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the sea.
"Ara ra... what's that?" Kuzan asked, his lazy posture straightening.
They rounded the corner of the Twin Capes and saw it. A whale of impossible size, its head covered in scars and a strange, painted lighthouse, was repeatedly slamming itself against the unyielding red rock of the continent.
Ace froze. Laboon. The name surfaced from Kenji's memories with a jolt of pained recognition.
Before they could react, a cannonball shot out from the lighthouse on the whale's head, landing harmlessly in the water near their ship. "GO AWAY!" a gruff, old voice yelled. "CAN'T YOU SEE WE'RE BUSY?!"
The ship's hatch on the whale's head opened, and an old man with a flower-petal-like hairstyle emerged, looking furious. "I am the lighthouse keeper of the Twin Capes! My name is Crocus, and I am also a doctor! I've been living inside this whale for some years now, and..."
He trailed off. His eyes, magnified by his glasses, widened as he finally got a good look at the man at the helm of the ship. He saw the face. The freckles. The set of his jaw. The fury drained from his expression, replaced by a deep, shock.
"...Roger's?" he whispered, his voice cracking with an emotion that was fifty years old.
"You're the man who kept him alive," Ace said, his voice quiet, respectful, and cutting through the old man's shock. "We're in need of a doctor."
The conversation that followed was a reunion of ghosts. Ace explained everything—Whitebeard's sickness, the war, the desperate need. Crocus, the man who had kept the Pirate King alive long enough to conquer the world, listened in stunned silence. He saw not just a boy, but the living, breathing legacy of his captain, making the same impossible demands.
"Join your crew?" Crocus finally said, his voice rough. "To save Newgate? Hah! Kid, I'm retired. And besides, I have a patient. One I can't leave." He gestured to the massive whale beside them.
"I know," Ace said. He reached into his satchel and presented the Cell-Cell Fruit. "I have this. I don't know its full power. But I know it can manipulate and regenerate cells."
He held it out, a desperate plea. "Rayleigh told me you were the best doctor in the world. He said you were the only one who could hold back my father's illness. I have another father who is dying. I'm asking you... if you had this... can you save him?"
Crocus took the fruit, his hands trembling slightly. He looked at it, his doctor's mind racing with the impossible, miraculous potential. He looked back at Ace, at the desperate hope in the boy's eyes. Without a word, he took a bite.
The taste was, by all accounts, atrocious. He coughed, sputtered, but as the power settled into him, a new, sharp light shone in his eyes. It wasn't god-like confidence; it was the sharp, sudden realization of a master surgeon who had just been handed the perfect, impossible tool.
"Yes," he said, his voice firm. "Yes. I believe I can."
He then looked back at the massive, mournful whale. "But I have one condition. I'm not leaving him. Laboon comes with us."
"That might be a problem," Ace said, looking at the colossal red continent.
It was then that Ace's mind, with knowledge of two worlds, made the final, crucial connection. Laboon. The Rumbar Pirates. The promise. The musician. A brilliant, joyful smile lit up his face.
"Laboon!" Ace yelled, his voice infused with Haki to carry across the water. "I have a message for you! From a friend!"
The giant whale, who had been ignoring them, suddenly froze. Its massive eye, the size of their ship, slowly turned to focus on Ace. A low, questioning rumble vibrated through the water.
"A very tall, very skinny musician with an afro!" Ace laughed. "He's alive! His name is Brook, and he's waiting for you on the other side of this mountain! Your friend is alive!"
Laboon let out a cry. It was not the mournful, heartbreaking sound from before. It was a cry of pure, unadulterated joy that echoed to the heavens. He was no longer a prisoner of his grief. He had a reason to cross the mountain.
"Well," Kuzan drawled, adjusting his glasses. "That solves one problem. Now, how do we get a mountain-sized whale over a mountain?"
Ace just grinned and turned to the two powerhouses on his ship.
Kuzan sighed. "Ara ra... I suppose that's my cue."
What followed was a feat of strength that defied all logic. Kuzan created a massive, miles-long slide of slick, frictionless ice that stretched up and over the peak of Reverse Mountain. Douglas Bullet, with a roar of pure, bored frustration ("This is the dumbest thing I've ever done!"), used his Gasha Gasha no Mi powers to assemble a colossal mechanical "pusher" from the wrecks of old ships at the bottom of the sea.
With a groan of straining metal and a triumphant cry from a very happy whale, they pushed. Laboon slid up the ice ramp, a living island surfing a glacier, and gracefully descended into the waters of the Grand Line.
The journey to the Moby Dick was a blur. Laboon, now pulling their small ship with a tow rope, was a biological torpedo, his joy propelling them at a speed that made the sea boil.
They arrived at the rendezvous point in record time. From the deck of the Moby Dick, Marco and the other commanders stared in utter disbelief. There, racing towards them, was their captain's ship... being towed by a giant, scarred, joyful whale with a lighthouse on its head.
On the deck of Ace's ship, they could see the new arrivals: the legendary doctor of the Pirate King, the grumpy chef from the Baratie, the Demon Heir.
Marco just stared, his mouth hanging open, not sure which part of the scene was the most impossible.
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