—Real World —
When Garp, Dragon, and Shanks appeared simultaneously as prisoners confined to Still Water Prison's third floor, the revelation triggered an immediate whirlpool of public opinion across every sea. The Sky Screen's casual display of three legendary figures reduced to cellmates sharing smuggled sake generated shockwaves that rippled through every power structure worldwide.
The sheer improbability—the historical weight—of these three specific individuals imprisoned together staggered observers attempting to process the implications.
Monkey D. Garp: Marine Hero of the same generation as Pirate King Gol D. Roger, the man whose fists had cornered Roger himself countless times, whose legendary strength had shaped entire eras of maritime history.
Monkey D. Dragon: The Revolutionary Army's founder and first leader, designated by the World Government as "the world's most dangerous criminal," the man whose ideology threatened the entire global order's foundation.
Red-Haired Shanks: Former crew member of the Pirate King who'd grown into Yonko status through personal charisma and strength, one of the Four Emperors who dominated the seas through sheer presence rather than territory.
Three completely different paths—Marine, Revolutionary, Pirate—each achieving the absolute pinnacle of their respective spheres. Three men whose names alone commanded respect or terror depending on the speaker. And the New Marine had imprisoned all three together in a single cell, treating them as mere criminals stripped of their legendary status.
Artoria Pendragon demonstrated either extraordinary boldness or catastrophic arrogance trusting Still Water Prison's security so completely. Confining three such dangerous individuals in proximity represented either supreme confidence in containment capabilities or invitation to disaster should they ever coordinate escape attempts.
The revelation that Still Water Prison's highest authority wasn't Magellan but rather an undead creature named Thresh generated its own controversy. When the World Government received this intelligence, the Celestial Dragons behind the institution finally released breath they'd been holding—the future underwater prison wouldn't exist completely under the Marine Fleet Admiral's exclusive control. The information represented mixed blessing: supernatural oversight suggested security but also introduced variables beyond conventional understanding.
—Real World—
Marineford
The senior Marine officers assembled at headquarters already reeled from explosive revelations, but this latest information struck with devastating personal impact. Multiple officers sat frozen in their seats, faces drained of color, eyes glazed with disbelief as they processed what the Sky Screen had casually displayed.
Several blinked repeatedly, convinced they'd misinterpreted the images or that the broadcast had malfunctioned somehow. Their minds refused accepting the fundamental wrongness of what they'd witnessed: How could the New Marine dare imprisoning Monkey D. Garp?!
Red-Haired Shanks and Monkey D. Dragon suffering defeat by future Marine forces generated shock but maintained internal logic—powerful enemies captured after battles, imprisoned according to institutional protocols. The Sky Screen had previously mentioned both men going missing after major conflicts. This revelation provided explanation and demonstrated reasonable approach: confining extraordinarily dangerous prisoners in maximum security facility designed specifically for that purpose.
But Garp?! What conceivable fault justified not merely stripping the Marine Hero of his status but imprisoning him for what appeared to be his entire remaining lifespan? Was this treatment fair for a man approaching ninety years old, someone who'd dedicated his entire existence to the Marine's service?
The injustice burned like acid in officers' minds. Had Garp committed some irreparable mistake during the Battle of Marineford—an error so catastrophic that even his lifetime of legendary merits couldn't offset the sin? Seemed impossibly cruel condemning a Marine Hero to spending his final years rotting in prison darkness, strength failing, dignity stripped away.
Admiral Kuzan—normally composed, maintaining professional detachment even during crises—could no longer restrain his emotional response. The nostalgic Admiral's carefully constructed calm shattered completely as he processed his beloved teacher's fate. His hands slammed against the conference table with enough force to crack the wood, ice crystals spreading from the impact point as his Devil Fruit abilities responded to unconscious distress.
"Why go to such extremes?!" Kuzan's voice cracked with barely suppressed anguish, years of accumulated respect and affection for his mentor pouring out in desperate protest. "Even if Garp made mistakes, just expel him from the Marine! He's earned that mercy through decades of service! This—" His gesture toward the Sky Screen conveyed helpless rage at the cruelty displayed. "He can't endure this! Nobody could!"
The mathematical calculation generated additional horror. If timeline projections held accurate, Mister Garp would be approximately eighty-two years old six years into the future broadcasts. He should have retired comfortably long ago, enjoying peaceful final years surrounded by respect and gratitude. Instead, they'd imprisoned him and seemingly intended letting him die of exhaustion within those suffocating walls—body failing, spirit crushed, legacy tarnished.
How unspeakably cruel, Kuzan's thoughts screamed. This man shaped generations of Marines, inspired countless officers, embodied the institution's highest ideals—and they repay him with indefinite imprisonment?
No wonder Admiral Aokiji six years future frequently sent Den Den Mushi communications into Still Water Prison checking on his teacher's wellbeing. The encoded calls represented desperate attempts maintaining connection, ensuring Garp possessed sufficient courage enduring another day. Kuzan lived in perpetual terror that one morning, he'd call and receive notification his teacher had finally surrendered—dying alone in darkness, his body buried in some unmarked location without ceremony or recognition.
The tragedy of it—the sheer waste—threatened breaking Kuzan's normally unshakeable composure completely.
"What exactly transpired during the Battle of Marineford?" Vice Admiral Tsuru's analytical voice cut through the emotional chaos, her weathered face displaying the concentration of someone assembling puzzle pieces from fragmentary evidence. "Two institutional pillars collapsed simultaneously: Fleet Admiral Sengoku lost his Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Daibutsu and descended into vegetative state—though he fortunately regained consciousness after the Dressrosa incident, allowing him to sit upright in a wheelchair. And Garp... imprisoned for life despite showing no visible physical injuries."
The mystery consumed Tsuru's tactical mind like an unsolvable equation. Garp's exposed skin displayed no scars or disfigurement in the broadcasts—he simply appeared older than his current self, aged six additional years. Whether he could exert even half his legendary prime strength remained questionable, but the physical degradation stemmed from age and imprisonment rather than battle wounds.
Fortunately, the old man maintained relatively good spirits despite circumstances. He consumed senbei crackers sent by his devoted apprentice daily, occasionally delivered iron fist discipline to his imprisoned son, and made sardonic jokes at Red-Haired Shanks' expense. This twilight existence could neither be described as good nor categorized as truly terrible—just... diminished. A legend reduced to comfortable prisoner awaiting death.
"Coby's name appeared again in those conversations," Tsuru continued, her sharp eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What did that boy do during the Battle of Marineford to cause Garp's life imprisonment? The connection remains unclear but undeniable."
The strategic analyst's mind catalogued known variables systematically. The Whitebeard Pirates would attend Marineford—their participation seemed inevitable given Ace's execution as catalyst. Some faction might also participate and the Blackbeard Pirates who ultimately benefited from the chaos, scavenging power and territory from the conflict's aftermath.
If comparing pure hard strength objectively, the Marine absolutely wasn't inferior to these three pirate groups combined. The institutional advantages seemed overwhelming: three Admirals at peak power, several Seven Warlords of the Sea providing auxiliary combat support, and both Garp and Sengoku holding the final defensive line as living legends. Such three-ring defensive formation couldn't be easily breached from external assault.
If calculating timeline accurately, Coby would have become Garp's disciple only recently before Marineford—a matter of months, perhaps a year at most. Even if the boy represented Blackbeard's undercover agent embedded within Marine ranks, his developmental level hadn't matured sufficiently to pose serious institutional threat. Such a weak, underdeveloped mole definitely couldn't cause catastrophic damage to the Marine's defensive capabilities.
The notion that Garp's legendary reputation would collapse after accepting a single disciple seemed ridiculous—unless Coby's betrayal triggered consequences far beyond his individual power level. Perhaps his actions created cascade failures, domino effects that multiplied minor treachery into catastrophic institutional damage.
Senior Marine officials had previously assumed Garp's absence from Sky Screen broadcasts meant he'd died during battle or perhaps become paralyzed like Fleet Admiral Sengoku—losing mobility but maintaining technical survival. But the Sky Screen had slapped everyone's comfortable assumptions with cold reality's harsh backhand.
Garp himself remained silent throughout the conference room's emotional chaos. The Marine Hero sat motionless in his designated seat, weathered face displaying calm acceptance rather than distress or protest. He simply watched everything unfold with the philosophical detachment of someone already half-buried in earth, understanding that pursuing answers or demanding justice carried no practical meaning at his age.
However, beneath that stoic exterior, Garp felt surprising satisfaction contemplating one particular aspect of his future imprisonment. The thought of continuing his son's education through Iron Fist of Love delivered across decades generated dark amusement that tugged at the corners of his scarred mouth.
I've wanted teaching Dragon proper lessons for years, Garp mused privately, his internal voice carrying grim humor. That troublesome, disappointing son who abandoned perfectly good Marine career—gave up everything I'd built for him—insisting on quitting the institution to start his revolution. Such ungrateful rebellion deserved punishment I never delivered because he fled beyond my reach.
Now the revolution remained incomplete, and Dragon himself occupied a prison cell, becoming his father's literal cellmate in cosmic irony that forced outsiders witnessing their interactions. A loving father and filial son, finally reunited! The absurdity generated sardonic satisfaction.
Could it be possible, Garp's thoughts continued down increasingly dark paths, that Luffy might also face imprisonment someday? A family of three—grandfather, son, grandson—appearing in Still Water Prison simultaneously, three generations of Monkey D. bloodline locked together?
When Garp contemplated that hypothetically nightmarish scenario, the corners of his mouth couldn't help rising into something approaching a genuine smile. His two fists clenched unconsciously, already eager for the opportunity teaching these unfilial descendants proper respect through the family's traditional educational methodology: overwhelming physical violence delivered with paternal affection.
The mental image of beating sense into both Dragon and Luffy while they couldn't escape or resist generated warmth in Garp's chest that exceeded any emotion he'd experienced in years. Perhaps imprisonment wouldn't be entirely terrible if it meant unlimited access to my disappointing relatives.
The Red Hair Pirates' emotional response proved far less restrained than Marineford's professional military atmosphere. The crew members surrounding their captain erupted into simultaneous heated discussion, voices overlapping as they processed the devastating revelation of Shanks' future mutilation and imprisonment.
"Damn that Garp and his son!" Yasopp snarled with uncharacteristic venom, his normally cheerful demeanor completely evaporated. "The Captain's already so catastrophically disabled—both arms severed, completely helpless—yet they still have the heart bullying him! Making him dependent on Dragon for something as basic as drinking?!"
"Who broke the Captain's other arm?" Lucky Roux wondered aloud, his perpetually jovial expression replaced by grim speculation. "The Marine during whatever battle captured him? Or perhaps Kaido during some confrontation? The Sky Screen showed three claw marks across his eye—that injury predates the arm loss, but from whom?"
"At least the Captain's still alive," Benn Beckman observed with forced pragmatism, though his hands trembled slightly around his rifle. The first mate's voice carried hollow quality suggesting he was trying convincing himself more than others. "That represents better fate than us dead ghosts who apparently don't survive whatever catastrophe destroys the crew."
The casual acknowledgment—us dead ghosts—hung in the salt air like funeral shroud. Every crew member present understood the implication: Shanks survived their complete annihilation. The Red Hair Pirates would be wiped out so thoroughly that only their captain endured, reduced to disabled prisoner subsisting on smuggled sake and dark humor.
Shanks himself didn't join the crew's anxious discussion. The Yonko sat apart, his gaze sweeping slowly across each companion's face with intensity that seemed to physically burn their features into his memory. He wanted remembering this scene with perfect clarity—these men still whole, still alive, still free to sail and laugh and breathe salt air.
I must make early plans and preparations for what future holds, Shanks' thoughts raced through strategic calculations even as his expression maintained characteristic calm. If I know the crew's destruction approaches, perhaps I can arrange alternatives. Hidden escape routes, emergency protocols, ways to ensure at least some survive even if I cannot.
When discussing taking life and death lightly, current Shanks recognized he fell far inferior to his future imprisoned self displayed on the Sky Screen. That version had achieved almost supernatural acceptance—finding genuine happiness in stolen moments, maintaining optimism despite losing everything. Current Shanks still cherished present time too desperately, clinging to these precious days traveling with his crew.
These moments represented the second-best period of his entire life. The first had been sailing under Captain Roger, learning from the Pirate King himself, witnessing that legendary man's final journey. Everything since paled by comparison—but this came closest to matching that golden era's significance.
I miss my old captain, Shanks thought with sudden fierce longing. Roger would know what to do. He always understood how to face impossible futures with that insufferable optimism.
"Luffy's mysterious situation attracted my attention," Shanks announced suddenly, redirecting the crew's spiraling anxiety toward actionable questions. "The broadcast mentioned Chopper—the Straw Hat Pirates' ship doctor—experiencing some complication that delayed their planned route. Could it be the reindeer hasn't regained consciousness since the major Dressrosa incident?"
The question generated immediate crew focus, grateful for tangible mystery rather than dwelling on their own apocalyptic futures.
"That would explain deviation from expected trajectory," Benn Beckman contributed, his analytical mind engaging with the puzzle. "If their doctor remains incapacitated or requires specialized treatment, Luffy would absolutely prioritize his crew member's welfare over any prior commitments—even agreements with someone like Kozuki Momonosuke."
"But where are the Straw Hat Pirates actually going?" Yasopp wondered. "What location possesses medical facilities or expertise capable of treating whatever afflicts Chopper? And does this deviation impact Luffy's ultimate goal? "
Shanks' expression turned contemplative as he considered that final question. Monkey D. Luffy abandoning his dream seemed fundamentally impossible—the boy's conviction burned with intensity that transcended rational calculation. But circumstances could delay dreams without destroying them. Temporary detours didn't necessarily indicate abandoned destinations.
"Luffy will become Pirate King eventually," Shanks stated with absolute conviction, his voice carrying certainty that silenced doubt. "That boy inherited Roger's will more completely than anyone I've met—including myself. Whatever delays him now represents temporary obstacle, not permanent defeat. He'll reach Laugh Tale eventually, just perhaps not along the expected path."
The crew absorbed their captain's confidence, drawing strength from his unwavering faith in their shared protégé. If Shanks believed in Luffy's eventual triumph, perhaps their own futures—however grim the Sky Screen suggested—might contain hope for unexpected survival or redemption.