Location: Somewhere in the middle of the vast sea, inside a random but lively tavern.
At a corner table sat five people, two men and three women, surrounded by plates of food and half-empty mugs of drinks. They had been there for hours, eating, drinking, and chatting quietly among themselves. From time to time, curious glances were thrown their way by other patrons who found it hard to ignore the group's striking presence.
The reason? Their appearance as a group was simply too striking to ignore.
One man leaned toward his companion and whispered, "Hey, don't you think those folks look kind of familiar?"
"Huh? I don't recall seeing them on any bounty posters or in the news, but now that you mention it, yeah… there's something weirdly familiar about them," the friend replied while scratching his head in thought.
Several others in the restaurant shared similar uneasy feelings toward the mysterious group. But even so, none of them dared to approach the table. There was just an undeniable aura about those five that practically screamed, don't mess with us, leaving everyone with enough common sense to keep their distance.
The main reason for this caution was likely the presence of one of the two men. A towering figure who looked more like a walking mountain than a man. His massive, muscular frame alone took up the space of three regular-sized people, forcing his companions to sit closer together just to fit around the table.
He wore a plain grey shirt stretched across his broad chest, dark loose pants held by a crimson sash, and a pair of solid black boots. A jagged scar ran across his face, a mark that gave him an even more intimidating look. His head was completely shaved, and a serious expression rested on his face as he calmly sipped his beer. Every few moments, his sharp hawk-like eyes scanned the room, observing everyone with quiet intensity. Anyone who accidentally met his gaze immediately felt a chill down their spine, instantly losing any thought of walking over to that table.
Beside him sat a man of leaner build, though no less impressive. He was tall and well-toned, his sleeveless black shirt showing off sculpted muscles. His dark purplish hair gave him an easy charm, and his dark eyes carried a mischievous twinkle. Dressed in loose white pants and casual sandals, he seemed far more approachable than the giant beside him. His bright, charming smile had already caught the attention of several women in the room, not that he seemed to notice or care.
Next to him sat a young woman whose beauty was as serene as moonlight. Her long, wavy silver hair flowed gently down her back, and her baby-blue eyes held an unreadable calmness. She wore a simple yet elegant blue dress paired with pristine white heels. Though she looked fragile and graceful, there was something subtly unsettling about her vacant stare, as if her body was present, but her mind was far away.
The fourth member was another beauty, though of a completely different kind. Her short brown hair framed sharp hazel eyes that carried a sense of pride and cool arrogance. She wore a crisp white tunic shirt tucked neatly into high-waisted, tight-fitting pants that accentuated her shapely figure. Tall black boots reached up to her knees, and a slender sword hung from her belt, adding a dangerous edge to her refined appearance.
Finally, there was a radiant blonde whose lively presence seemed to lift the heavy atmosphere around the group. Her long hair shimmered like gold under the light, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with vitality, darker than the silver-haired girl's pale gaze but equally mesmerizing. Three faint whisker-like lines adorned each cheek, adding a playful charm to her already striking features. She wore an unzipped black jacket with orange stripes running down the sleeves, revealing a dark shirt beneath, and short black pants that showcased her long, well-toned legs.
This radiant blonde was none other than Naru, the same Naru who had left the East Blue a decade ago. Seated around her were her most trusted companions, individuals she had met and gathered throughout her tumultuous journey over the past ten years.
The colossal man was Barlow, the eldest of the group at the seasoned age of forty-seven. The easygoing man with the purple hair was Nikolas, a charming fellow who was a year older than Naru and had been the second to join her adventures. The delicate silver-haired girl was Nalan Yue, the youngest member at just nineteen years old. Lastly, the cold and prideful woman wielding the sword was Yuzu, the first person who had pledged her loyalty to Naru when she initially set foot into the chaotic Grand Line.
Though they appeared relaxed, the five were actually listening to the conversations swirling around them. The restaurant was buzzing with excited chatter about the latest shocking news that had shaken the world.
"I still can't believe it!" someone exclaimed nearby. "They actually caught one of Whitebeard's commanders!"
"Yeah, and they're planning to execute him! The Marines must be out of their minds to announce that so openly!" another said in disbelief.
"They're insane! Whitebeard's a Yonko! Do they really think they can take him on?"
"Please, the old man's past his prime. He's not as strong as he used to be," someone scoffed confidently.
"Even so, you can't underestimate his crew. Marco alone is said to be second only to Whitebeard himself!"
"Either way, this war's going to make history, mark my words."
While the tavern filled with shouts and drunken theories, Nikolas lazily lifted his mug of beer and took a long sip. His eyes flicked toward Naru, who was calmly flipping through a newspaper, her expression unreadable.
After a moment, he finally asked, "So, boss… when exactly are we going to get your brother? Considering where we are now, it might take some time to reach Impel Down. But with your powers, saving Ace before his 'big day' should be easy, right?"
It had been several days since news spread about Ace's capture and imprisonment in the lowest level of Impel Down. When they first heard, Naru had been in the North Blue attending to personal matters. Later that same day, she ordered her crew, who were resting on an island they called home in the New World, to prepare for departure.
Three days ago, she gathered them together, and now, here they were, eating lunch in a random tavern somewhere in the South Blue.
When her orders first came, every one of them thought the same thing, that they were going to break into Impel Down. After all, it was her brother's life on the line.
But instead of heading toward the infamous prison, Naru brought them south, far away from what anyone expected.
They knew her well enough to understand how deeply she valued her family. There was no doubt in any of their minds that she would move heaven and earth to save her brother. Yet this sudden detour left them full of questions.
If not Impel Down, then what? What was she planning?
Finally, Nikolas spoke the question everyone was thinking about.
And Naru, without hesitation, replied calmly, "We're not going to Impel Down."
Nikolas nearly choked on his drink. "Wait, what? You're serious?"
All four of her companions stared at her in stunned silence.
"Then where are we going?" Yuzu asked, her voice cool but laced with curiosity.
"Centaurea," Naru said lightly, as if the word itself carried no weight.
In that instant, realization hit them.
Nikolas leaned back, finishing his beer in one long gulp before slamming the mug down. "I heard the Revolutionary Army took over a kingdom by that name not long ago. You're saying we're here to get that guy?"
Naru smiled faintly and laid the newspaper on the table. "You're right."
"He must've begged you to come get him," Yuzu remarked confidently.
"I wouldn't say begged… but yes, something along those lines," Naru said with a teasing grin.
"So we pick him up, then what?" Nikolas pressed, watching her carefully. "You do have a plan, right?"
There was a brief silence before Yuzu spoke again, her tone certain. "Impel Down was never your real target."
Naru's lips curved into a sly grin, the kind that made even her closest allies uneasy.
"Whatever happens that day," she said with a gleam in her eyes, "it will be a moment the world never forgets."
Rising slightly from her seat, her voice turned sharp with determination as she declared, "The time has come. The world is about to know who we are."
.
.
.
Several days later, the time had finally come for the prisoner to be transported to Marineford.
Under the relentless watch of Vice Admiral Oniguma and a host of seasoned marines, Portgas D. Ace was dragged onto the deck and forced into a chair placed starkly at the center, like a grim centerpiece for the world to behold. Thick Sea Stone chains wrapped mercilessly around his limbs, suppressing every ounce of his strength and leaving him entirely exposed. Unlike the calm, almost indifferent demeanor he had displayed days earlier when confronting Garp—or the stoic patience he had maintained while enduring the icy solitude of his cell—today Ace's expression was anything but relaxed. Tension carved deep lines across his face, grimness etched into every contour.
The marines stationed around him, ever vigilant, could not help but exchange uneasy glances, their thoughts almost unanimous.
So even the infamous Fire Fist Ace feels fear as the end approaches.
Yet their assumption was completely mistaken.
Ace was not, and had never been, afraid of death.
The storm in his heart was not born of self-preservation. Instead, it stemmed from something far more agonizing, a weight unrelated to the execution that awaited him.
Just two days earlier, Ace had received an astonishing visit from an unexpected figure: Boa Hancock, the Empress of the Kuja, a woman whose reputation for despising men was legendary. Her very appearance had been startling, but the message she brought was even more incredible.
She told him something he would have never dared to imagine.
His younger brother, Luffy, had recklessly broken into Impel Down in an outrageous attempt to rescue him.
At first he did not dare to believe in the words that came out of the mouth of Boa Hancock, because why would he? There was nothing going on between him and the Snake Empress, and there was no way that she, who was rumored to despise men, was kind enough to tell him about this sort of thing, or did she have too much free time in her hands that she was willing to come to the prison and prank him for no reason instead of preparing for the war against his crew?
Or was it a tactic from the marines to let the woman use his little brother's name to mess with his head and break his spirit?
If the latter were true, it meant they had already uncovered his family background.
Ace's skepticism persisted until he heard about Luffy's fight with Magellan. Then the truth became undeniable, and panic gripped him like nothing had since the day of his capture.
When the day of his transfer arrived, Ace's stomach sank as he overheard the startling news, that his little brother had been subdued in Level Six, the very place where he himself had been held.
Dozens of scenarios had played through his mind during his imprisonment, yet none had included Luffy storming into enemy territory to save him. That fool!
Vice Admiral Oniguma noticed Ace staring blankly ahead and remarked with a cruel satisfaction, "Take a good look at the sky for the last time. Once you reach the execution platform, you will never see it again."
The sky was clear and calm that day, yet Ace's heart raged like a tempest.
It was not death he feared.
It was the thought of losing Luffy.
Despite every instinct resisting it, Ace knew he must accept the worst possible outcome.
Darkness clouded his eyes. His teeth sank into his lower lip so fiercely that blood welled instantly, metallic and bitter on his tongue.
If anything happened to his brother…
The World Government would soon know true retribution. Their sister would not sit idly by, and the world itself would burn under her wrath.
Yet for now, Ace remained shackled and powerless. The Sea Stone chains drained his strength, turning every attempt at resistance into a cruel joke. He could not free himself. He could not return to Impel Down. He could not even let his fury erupt in the heavens.
All he could do was sit. And wait.
Several hours after leaving Impel Down, as the sun climbed to its zenith, the ship finally docked at Marineford.
The stage for his execution was now prepared.
The appointed hour of his death loomed only three hours away.
Dragged forward like a spectacle for the crowd, Ace was led up the long, imposing staircase toward the execution platform. Two marines gripped the chains connected to his shackles, treating him no better than a rabid dog. He climbed with steady, measured steps, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him stumble, until one sneering marine kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to collapse hard onto the platform.
Even then, Ace remained silent. No curses. No pleas.
Instead, he adjusted his position, settling into a seated posture with his legs crossed, his eyes cold and unreadable as they swept over the massive crowd assembled before him.
There was no trace of fear in his expression.
For the first time in Marineford's storied history, the plaza below the platform teemed with thousands of elite soldiers, summoned from every corner of the seas. Towering siege weapons stood ready. Countless marine vessels ringed the island, forming a wall of iron and gunpowder.
The strongest fighting forces in the world had gathered. Marines, allies, and the remaining Warlords of the Sea, each legendary in their own right, stood poised for the inevitable battle.
Seated just beneath the execution platform were the three Admirals, the apex of Marineford's power. Aokiji. Kizaru. Akainu. Together, they formed a near-impenetrable barrier, the final bulwark to prevent Fire Fist Ace from escaping his fate.