"Extinguish!"
Rocks was pleased — more precisely, the demon inside him was pleased.
Good. This was perfect. Human greed, the will to possess everything: that was the true engine of the sea's madness. It was precisely why Devil Fruits born from bloodline factors existed. The fruits' limitless permutations were the offspring of human imagination.
Boom!
The throne exploded. Rocks sank into the black seat; God Valley was suddenly laced by ravenous tendrils that reached, absorbed, and drew everything in… grinding all life down to nothing. Life existed only for an instant. Rocks intended, before his death, to drain every last ounce of his fruit's power — to show his final worth.
"Darkness is everywhere!"
Rocks opened his mouth, and from God Valley rose a monstrous dark demon. It towered larger than giants; even the transformed Saturn Saint could not match it. The narrow gorge now felt swallowed by that creature. Rocks had offered himself to the demon; at that moment his life burned and was destroyed.
The darkness detonated everyone's bloodline factors. Devil Fruit users were hit first, as if struck by thunder.
"Damn! It burns!"
Kaido swore never to forget Rocks — the damned captain had to ruin his crew even as he died. His organs churned. He collapsed, racked by pain. Streusen drove his sword into a cliff from pain. Linlin screamed for dismemberment; her steel-ball resilience repeatedly cracked under this targeted torment. Gold Lion spat curses as he found himself fixed to the ground for the first time, forced to keep blood down lest things worsen.
"Fruit power depends on development. He must have been an unprecedentedly perfect host for this Devil Fruit," Whitebeard said, still on his feet, blade gripped. It hurt, yes — but what else could they do? Wangzhi and Silver Axe would have liked to take a few swings at Rocks.
In truth, Rocks's own crew suffered the most. Roger's gang were largely unaffected; Marine HQ's heavy hitters like Sengoku, Tsuru, and Garp were shielded by others — Zefa and the like. Even if gravely wounded, they'd have rescuers. Captain John gave up resisting and lay down; he felt he could not withstand Rocks's final, supreme strike. Skin seeped blood; dark erosion gnawed at bloodline factors.
"Sharn — why are you fine?" John asked, surprised to see Sharn leaning on a barrel.
"It hurts, but I'm too lazy to complain," Sharn replied casually. In truth, he felt no pain at all. Was Rocks targeting him deliberately? Why?
No — Sharn's eyes fixed on the dark giant that Rocks had become. Now Rocks resembled the demon; the voice earlier in the dark might have been Rocks, but the decision — perhaps — was not wholly his. The demon-spirit of the Dark–Dark Fruit? Instinctively, the invasion bypassed Sharn. Why?
Sharn hefted the barrel and drank deeply of wine. Suddenly the ground tore. Gravity yanked everything away — the wine bottle too — and Sharn was dragged upward. He punched a hole and grabbed at a fissure. Rocks looked down: everything was a thicket of darkness to him. Stone statues, living beings — all were swallowed. From outside, the dark whirlpool condensed rapidly, then violently. The sensation at sea was not a tremor like a quake fruit but a ripping, a devouring.
A colossal vortex at sea sucked a warship Buckin had taken; it slid toward sinking. She stared at God Valley and thought none could survive. Let it all be destroyed — that would be liberating. Without Marine HQ, she could live more freely, though without Rocks's gang as shelter she would be adrift again — a bitter thought.
As she watched, seawater washed her face; in its reflection she saw God Valley. The gorge had swelled and then condensed in under a second — and then it burst. Destruction. Buckin's mind leapt to the worst-case scenario. Then the vortex slowed; gravity disappeared. The darkness vanished. God Valley returned to a semblance of normal: utterly razed, only shattered rock and tilt-bent cliffs remained.
"What happened there?" people asked. "Did Rocks win? Was that his attack? I thought the world was ending!"
But within God Valley the scene was different. Figures fell from the sky: Sharn slammed into a cliff. The few surviving strong fighters turned and felt a chill run down their spines. A strange light blew through the gorge; their Kenbunshoku and instincts screamed that Rocks had not died.
Impossible — no life should remain. Yet Sharn, bruised and barely standing, turned and saw — at the very heart of the valley's abyss — a living human: Rocks.
His eyes glowed with a crystalline clarity, like a newborn's. Hearts thudded. How could this monster still be alive?
"You all are so afraid," Rocks said, eyes bright, smiling. A surge of frenzied Haki erupted from him — a dark, night-like Conqueror's Haki that rolled like titanic ocean waves. "To think you could kill me is delusional! I am Rocks, the world's king! Hahaha — I am immortal!"
He laughed madly as skin cracked and flaked across his body. The Haki was suffocatingly intense; it made breath difficult. Sharn pressed against the blast and stared, deeply shaken. Roger and Garp staggered to their feet again, preparing to fight. They had no answer if Rocks truly still lived.
Rocks planted one foot forward; he fixed his gaze on Sharn and pointed. "You must have felt it — the darkness's favor for you. It cannot be escaped: great Devil Fruits seek hosts. Wherever it is reborn, it will find you! That is the wonder of fate! Sharn — darkness has already marked you. What choice will you make?"
His voice thundered into every ear. Then, abruptly, Rocks's Haki faded. He walked to Sharn and halted; the demonic power slipped away, and his three-color Haki was drained. He froze mid-step — in the final moments of life, his body made a cracking noise. He petrified where he stood, mouth still split in a maddened grin, hair frozen like a banshee returning from hell.
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