The sky above the Navy Fortress churns like a dark sea, clouds twisting from the sheer pressure of power gathered below. The air is heavy. Silent. Expectant.
At the center wall, the Supreme Admiral Uruma stands unmoving, his cloak unmoved by the wind, his expression carved from stone.
Finally, his voice breaks the stillness.
Uruma (low, quiet):
"This is where you die, Tremor Man… Arata."
Down on the war-torn coast, Arata Kuro steps forward, the ground trembling slightly beneath him, cracks trailing from his feet.
Arata (smirking):
"Long time no see, old man."
Uruma:
"Talk about yourself."
A sudden BOOM hits the shoreline as a massive figure leaps down from the Tremor Pirates' ship, smashing into the stone dock like a meteor.
Soldiers (shouting):
"I–It's him! The Stone Eater — Boros!!"
Boros cracks his neck, grin wide, dust swirling around him.
Boros:
"Took you some time, kids."
A light step touches the deck beside Arata. A white coat flutters like wings. A woman with long silver hair raises her rifle, her expression bored and precise.
Soldiers:
"She's— White Crow Sharpshooter, Elira Voss!"
Elira (soft, confident):
"I deserve that praise."
Another shadow falls. No— crashes.
The island shatters under the weight of a sword the size of a ship's mast, cleaving a trench straight through the stone.
Soldiers (voices cracking):
"T–That's the Black Guillotine— Drayden Holt!!"
Drayden slides the blade onto his shoulder, eyes half-lidded with disinterest.
Drayden:
"Don't care. I'm already planning to sink this island."
A tremor ripples. The Supreme Admiral raises a single finger.
A command.
No words.
The navy erupts forward like a tidal wave.
The Tremor Pirates charge to meet them.
Thud.
Clang.
BOOM.
Steel and fists collide. The very earth shakes.
The war of the era has begun.