Just as Orca Groups 1 and 2 prepared to engage the Baroque agents, a sudden shift in the wind stole everyone's attention.
It began as a whisper — a subtle breeze brushing across the battlefield. Then it grew. Fast.
Within moments, a violent gale swept across the sands, howling like a beast awakened. Off in the distance, a massive tornado spun high into the sky, twisting violently as it tore across the desert toward Alubarna's outskirts. Sand swirled in its wake, painting the sky a murky gold.
"W-What is that?!"
"A tornado?!"
"Everyone run! Disperse!"
Panic erupted. The battlefield, moments ago locked in deadly conflict, descended into chaos once more — but this time, from fear rather than fury. Soldiers from both the Royal Army and the Rebel Army dropped their weapons and sprinted for cover. Everyone is retreating back to their own camps in terror.
The Orcas quickly pulled back as well, instinctively regrouping from the unnatural threat.
Gin shielded his eyes against the sand, his expression tense. "Why the hell is there suddenly a storm here?!"
Creed, squinting through the gusts, narrowed his eyes on the approaching vortex.
"No," he said, voice calm. "That's not nature. That's Captain Zino."
Hibari blinked. "Zino?!"
Binko's jaw dropped. "Wait—he's *driving* the storm? Is that even possible?!"
"What is he doing bringing such disastrous wind here?" Stev asked, sweating as he watched the incoming storm.
Gin glanced toward the scattered armies. "I think he's not just showing off. He's forcing everyone to stop fighting. Look at them."
The Orcas turned. Sure enough, both armies had fully disengaged. Rebels and royals had returned to their respective camps, confused, windblown, and visibly shaken. Even the planted agents had fled back into the crowds, their cover momentarily forgotten in the face of the looming storm.
"Tch. Cowards," Gin muttered.
As the storm finally reached the edge of the battlefield, something miraculous happened.
The towering tornado began to shrink. Slowly, deliberately, it coiled in on itself — the swirling sands collapsing inward, folding like curtains around a solitary figure.
When the dust settled, he was there.
Zino.
Standing tall in the heart of the battlefield, his coat billowed behind him, and wisps of residual wind curled around his boots. His steps were calm, casual even, as if he had merely strolled in from a quiet walk — not descended upon them as a living tempest.
Then, with a single deep breath, he spoke.
"HELLO, EVERYONE!"
His voice boomed across the desert, enhanced by air pressure and possibly laced with raw Conqueror's Haki. The shockwave rippled outward like a cannon blast.
Soldiers staggered. Knees buckled. Dozens dropped to the ground unconscious — not dead, but completely overwhelmed.
Silence followed, thick and stunned.
Zino stood between two armies, alone but commanding. And now, all eyes were on him.
"Listen to me. All of you."
Zino's voice was calm — too calm. It carried across the silent field like distant thunder before the storm.
"If anyone makes a sound... if I so much as hear a cough, a sneeze, or even a fart — I'll let you taste the wrath of the storm I rode in on."
A tense silence followed. No one moved. No one breathed too loudly.
Zino's eyes swept across the two armies, and he continued, voice sharpened like a blade.
"You've all been dragged into a war that should've never happened. Rebels. Royals. You're not enemies. You're pawns."
He let the words hang before dropping the truth like a guillotine.
"The one who orchestrated all of this... is none other than Sir Crocodile — one of the Seven Warlords."
A wave of gasps rippled through the ranks. Shock, confusion, denial.
"W-What?!"
"That's not possible!"
"He's the hero of Alabasta!"
"He saved the capital from pirates!"
Zino's eyes flared.
"SILENCE!"
The shout hit like a cannon blast. A burst of pressurized air exploded outward. Dust flew. Soldiers reeled, hands clapping over their ears. Some dropped to their knees, unable to endure the weight of his Conqueror's Haki-laced presence.
The battlefield fell quiet once more.
Zino's voice lowered again, cold and unwavering. "I don't care if you believe me or not. I didn't come to win your trust."
His gaze hardened. "I came to tear the roots out. The Baroque Works agents Crocodile planted among you — they're here. Disguised. Watching. Stirring the flames on both sides."
Confused murmurs began to rise again, but were quickly silenced by a single look from him.
"You stand beside them. You eat with them. And now, some of you will die because of them."
Panic started to bloom in the eyes of a few soldiers. Hidden agents shifted nervously in their ranks, trying to suppress the thundering in their chests.
Zino smirked faintly. With his Observation Haki active, the battlefield was an open book — every flicker of fear, every spike of adrenaline, every heartbeat that stuttered in panic.
He could feel them.
The hidden agents.
Terrified, tense, and trying their best to look composed.
He raised his hand slowly.
"Let's start with…"
His gaze turned sharply, locking onto a man disguised among the rebel ranks. His eyes narrowed.
"…You."
Boom!
A burst of compressed wind exploded from his palm. The wind bullet struck the agent with bone-cracking force, launching him into the air. He slammed to the ground, unmoving.
Gasps erupted through both armies. Soldiers flinched. The impact had been fast — surgical. The fake rebel didn't even have time to scream.
Zino stepped forward, voice calm but thunderous.
"Next…"
He pointed again. "You. You. You. And you."
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each name was punctuated with a blast. Four more agents were hurled back like ragdolls, crashing into the sand with stunned groans. The facade shattered.
The agents' eyes widened in pure terror. They couldn't pretend anymore.
"He—He's picking us off!"
"Run! RUN!"
Panic spread like wildfire.
The Baroque agents broke rank and bolted, discarding weapons and masks, scattering in every direction.
Zino's eyes narrowed. His voice thundered like a hurricane:
"*Capture them! Don't let a single one escape!*"
His voice carried across the field, reaching both sides — Royal and Rebel alike.
At the rear lines, the two Orca groups perked up.
"Did you hear that?" Usopp asked, already reaching for his slingshot.
Sanji lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke. "Loud and clear."
Nojiko didn't answer. She was already sprinting like a shadow, claws glinting in the sun.
Pell took flight without hesitation, transforming mid-run into his falcon form. He swooped low, grabbed a fleeing agent by the shoulders, and soared high into the sky.
"NO, NO, NOOO—!"
The man's scream echoed before Pell let go.
He plummeted.
Hard.
Back on the ground, Binko cracked his knuckles. "Guess the warm-up's over."
Creed rolled his shoulders, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Let's hunt."
As Zino took point, the Orcas burst into action. What had moments ago been a battlefield drenched in confusion and bloodshed was now transforming — not a civil war, but a purge. The true enemies had been unmasked, and the storm had changed direction.
"Th-There really were spies among us!" a rebel soldier stammered, his voice trembling.
Another rebel shouted, "I saw that guy in our ranks all week — I knew I didn't recognize him!"
On the royal side, the same realization spread like lightning. Shock rippled through their formation as they watched several so-called comrades throw away their helmets in panic and bolt for safety.
"Their faces... they're not even familiar!" one royal soldier exclaimed.
Chaka's eyes hardened. His voice cut through the ranks like steel. "All soldiers — remove your helmets! Anyone suspicious or unfamiliar is to be detained immediately!"
Without hesitation, the royal army followed his command. Helms clattered to the ground as true soldiers revealed themselves — and the agents, now exposed, panicked.
Not a single infiltrator obeyed. Instead, they ran.
On the rebel side, Koza didn't need to speak. His men had already acted on instinct. Helmets were tossed off, agents were singled out — and every last one of them turned tail.
The shock of betrayal hit hard.
Rage followed.
The rebels and royal soldiers — who had been at each other's throats just moments ago — now turned their fury on the fleeing Baroque agents. All hesitation vanished. The battlefield shifted again, as soldiers from both sides lunged to capture the traitors who had driven them to the brink of civil war.
Panic-stricken Baroque agents scattered in every direction — but there was nowhere left to run.
With both armies tacitly agreeing, what followed was swift and merciless. The hidden agents were hunted down, beaten black and blue, and bound tightly with cuffs and heavy chains. Rage, betrayal, and humiliation surged through the ranks as former comrades turned out to be enemies in disguise.
Once the dust settled and every infiltrator had been subdued, Zino stood tall before the divided armies. His voice carried like thunder, firm and unquestionable:
"Leaders of both camps — it's time to talk peace."
With a wave of his hand, Zino summoned a structure of impossible beauty and power: a towering ice palace, glistening under the desert sun, rising right at the center of the battlefield. Gasps echoed from both sides — not just from the unnatural cold in Alabasta's heat, but from the awe of this man's sheer elemental command.
Koza, Chaka, Pell, and Princess Vivi were invited inside, along with the full Orca crew. No one dared protest.
Before they entered, Zino gave two sharp, simple warnings:
1. "No fighting between either camp."
And keep your eyes on the captured agents. No slip-ups."
Neither side had the nerve to defy him.
Inside the ice palace, a surreal calm settled over the gathering. The cold air sharpened minds dulled by war and heat. Everyone sat — rebels and royal guards alike — separated by nothing more than a frozen floor, under shimmering crystal-blue light.
Zino stood at the center, his gaze sweeping the room.
"Let's skip the formalities," he said flatly. "Here's the deal. I want both sides — Royal and Rebel — to agree to end this war. Right here. Right now. Do you agree?"
A heavy silence followed.
Koza glanced at Chaka. Chaka looked at Pell. No one spoke. No one dared object. No one wanted to test the wrath of the man who just tamed a battlefield with wind and ice.
They could only nod.
The Orcas exchanged knowing glances — some with smirks, others with impressed looks. Their captain's directness wasn't just bold, it was overwhelming. But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what these two sides needed.
After all, sometimes only a storm could bring silence to a battlefield.
Zino stepped forward again, voice steady. "Your enemy isn't the royal army or the rebels. Your true enemy was Crocodile — and he's already been captured by Marine Captain Smoker."
"What?" Pell, Chaka, and Koza spoke almost in unison, eyes widening.
"He's in custody?" Koza asked, disbelieving.
Zino nodded. "Yes. However, many of his agents are still active. A particular team is out there right now… planting a bomb that can destroy the capital city."
"WHAT?!"
Shock rippled through the room — not just from the leaders, but even among the Orcas.
Vivi turned pale, her voice trembling. "Wait… a bomb that can destroy the entire capital?"
Zino nodded grimly. "If it's not disarmed, yes. And it's likely already ticking as we speak."
"Th-this isn't the time for talking!" Usopp exclaimed, his voice breaking. "We need to stop that bomb right now!"
For once, no one argued with him.
"Do you know where it is?" Nami asked urgently.
"I have intel that says it's hidden inside the clock tower," Zino replied.
"Clock tower?" Vivi repeated, eyes snapping to Koza. He returned her glance, realization dawning.
"I know that place," Vivi said quickly. "It's the tallest structure in the capital."
"I know," Zino replied, waving slightly. "The Marines have already been dispatched to deal with it."
"They're already on-site?" Koza asked. "Can they disarm it?"
Zino shrugged. "Hard to say. I'll go check on their progress shortly. But before that—"
His tone grew firm again.
"I need the leaders of both armies to begin withdrawing your forces from the capital. If that bomb explodes… I don't want more unnecessary deaths."
A tense silence followed as Koza, Chaka, and Pell exchanged heavy glances. The peace talk was a success. Now however, they needed to retreat from the capital.