The sound of heartbeats.
The sound of breathing.
The sound of stones crumbling.
And the roaring, endless sound of darkness devouring everything.
Sharn listened to it all.
Slowly, his world grew quiet.
His body was gaunt, his limbs trembling — but alive.
He tore himself free from the stone wall, and at last, the pain in his soul faded.
His torn flesh touched the ground again, and for a brief moment, he felt the illusion of survival.
If only there was food — he could heal faster.
But his body was no longer fit for battle.
The moon had not yet vanished.
The sun was already climbing from the east.
Sharn stood alone in the ravine.
Sunlight poured into God Valley like orange juice filling a glass.
Sharn was the first to taste it — its warmth soaked into him, dizzying.
But in front of him, half the valley was swallowed by a colossal sphere of darkness.
Inside it was silence; only the tearing, crushing sounds of the world being destroyed echoed around it.
The Kurozumi clan conspirators lowered their barriers, staring, terrified.
The sea was calming.
Waves receded.
Marines and pirates alike landed again, stepping over corpses — some alive, some not —
and marched toward the center of the battlefield.
"Look! A starving survivor of God Valley!"
A Marine shouted, spotting Sharn.
"Leave him! Our orders are to protect the Celestial Dragons!"
"You sure anyone's still alive in there? That black sphere swallowed everything!"
"Our mission is to rescue the Celestial Dragons — nothing else matters!"
They charged forward.
Pirates slipped among them, hoping to plunder treasure in the chaos.
Sharn knew better.
Every one of them was already dead — they just didn't realize it yet.
Because the monsters of this age were about to rise again.
"Sis—they're not dead!" cried Kurozumi Semimaru, summoning a barrier.
"It's useless!" said Kurozumi Higurashi, her body trembling behind her brother's shield. "In front of Rocks, Devil Fruit powers don't work!"
Sharn walked through the valley without fear.
Bullets flew, blades swung — he dodged effortlessly, barely even looking.
"Kid!" yelled Wang Zhi, ever the coward. "When the captain releases his darkness, everything gets blasted apart! You'd better stay put!"
"I'm hungry," Sharn muttered. "I don't care about pain."
He ignored him completely, looking for food.
"Bread. The Celestial Dragons' storage vault," a voice slurred.
It was Captain John, sitting atop a massive oak wine barrel, raising an enormous mug of ale to the morning sun.
Sharn glanced up — a fellow glutton.
One for drink, one for food.
Under John's barrel were crates filled with rations.
Sharn dove headfirst into them, devouring everything in sight.
"Drink! Drink till the world ends!" John laughed, raising his mug high.
As the first sunlight pierced the black fog of God Valley,
Sharn felt the earth tremble beneath him.
Then — a surge.
A crushing shockwave roared from behind.
Rocks had unleashed his darkness.
Everything trapped within was expelled at once —
a blast that tore through the entire valley.
The Marines who had just rushed in were thrown into the air like leaves.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Rocks' voice echoed through the blackness.
"I told you — no one is exempt!"
"If you want to live—stand till the end!"
His words reverberated through every survivor's skull.
When the sunlight reached the core, everyone froze.
Buildings shattered.
Stones, gold, bodies rained from above.
Saint Saturn of the Five Elders was struck before he could awaken.
Saint Figarland Garling fell from the sky, along with the God Knights and their Celestial patrons.
The Navy's proudest warriors — their "pillars of justice" — were broken, bleeding, or dead.
Whitebeard and Golden Lion stood among the wreckage, soaked in blood.
No one escaped untouched.
Only one victor could walk away.
Rocks knew many among them still held grudges, secrets, doubts —
but so what?
He would crush them all.
His Dark-Dark Fruit smothered every hope,
and his ambition burned brighter than ever.
"Run!"
The last fragments of hope collapsed.
The Marines and pirates who had just landed turned to flee.
Everything was gone.
Death awaited them all.
The seas—and the world itself—belonged to Rocks D. Xebec now.
"You think you can leave? Did I say you could?"
Rocks' madness flared.
From him burst the other side of the Love-Love Fruit's power —
a tidal wave of petrifying energy.
Everyone still standing on the island froze mid-motion,
transformed into statues of horror — faces twisted in struggle, fear, and despair.
Outside the valley, on distant warships, the final Marines watched in terror.
Their scalps tingled; their hearts pounded.
They had never imagined fear could feel this real.
Before them, God Valley had become a forbidden land.
Mountains of corpses.
Countless stone statues.
Debris raining from the heavens.
Legends, heroes, monsters—all maimed, broken, or dead.
"What kind of creature is Rocks?!"
"I just wanted to go home alive—was that a crime?!"
"Please… turn the ship around! I want to live!"
Despair devoured their courage.
This was Rocks' way — crushing hope until nothing remained.
That's why he was called King of the World.
Wherever he went, despair followed.
The end had come.
All the world could do was hold its breath and pray death would be quick.
"Shut your mouth, Rocks!"
A roar shattered the silence.
From the ruins, Garp staggered to his feet, blood running from his forehead to his feet.
His fists bled too, but his eyes burned bright.
"You better watch closely!"
"Justice doesn't fall so easily!"
"I—Monkey D. Garp—will smash everything with these iron fists!"
He rose, barely conscious of his words.
All that remained was the will to fight.
In the face of despair, a true warrior must strike the impossible.
"Hey, Rayleigh."
Roger stood on broken stone, shattering the ground beneath him.
Blood dripped from his blade.
Behind him, Rayleigh, who had taken Rocks' blow, steadied his breath.
"I told you I'd turn the world upside down," Roger said, smirking.
"And I told you—I will never die."
He turned toward Rocks.
His presence flickered—then vanished.
Perfect Haki control; even with eyes open, none could sense him.
"Of course," Rayleigh grinned faintly. "We're aiming for the same dream."
"Roger—let's knock him down one more time!"
He lifted his sword in salute to his captain.
Behind him, the battered crew of the Roger Pirates did the same.
No reinforcements, no admirals, no armies—
just a handful of wounded men who believed in freedom.
They would face Rocks together.
"Rocks!" Roger called, voice like thunder.
"This will be your darkest hour!"
He wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled.
At the heart of God Valley, only three men could still fight—
Rocks D. Xebec, Monkey D. Garp, and Gol D. Roger.
On one ridge stood Whitebeard and Golden Lion, holding their ground.
On another, Sharn and Captain John watched.
Fate had separated them—two sides, two generations.
Sharn, finally full, felt warmth returning to his body.
He looked up.
Through the orange light of dawn, Roger turned back.
He had the beginnings of a beard now, but nowhere near the grand mustache he'd one day wear.
Blood slid down his jawline under gravity's pull.
Their eyes met.
Captain John sat quietly, watching, saying nothing.
"Kid," Roger said, smiling faintly,
"your eyes are still full of confusion."
"If the sea has no home for you—come aboard my ship."
"After all, the Rocks Pirates are about to crumble to dust."
Roger's grin widened — confident, bright, unshaken.
This time—
the battle would decide victory or death.
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