The tension hanging over the pier had become suffocating, the kind that made even seasoned warriors feel the weight of the moment. Doflamingo's chilling laugh rang out again, sharp and mocking.
"Fufufufu… So, Elder Saturn," he said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, "how do you plan to resolve this situation? You see, while I never cared for titles, one has been bestowed upon me. And as an Emperor of the Seas, I cannot—will not—allow the World Government to trample on my generosity without consequence."
His words carried an undercurrent of danger that made even the most stoic of the Cipher Pol agents shift uneasily. The severed heads in the chest already screamed a message of absolute dominance, but now Doflamingo was pushing further, daring Saturn to respond.
"You are pushing things too far, Donquixote," one of the Cipher Pol agents finally spoke, his voice sharp and unyielding. He stepped forward slightly, as if his words could somehow tilt the balance back in the World Government's favor. "You need to know your place—and who you are addressing. If you truly value your life and your position, I suggest you take a step back."
"Indeed," the Cipher Pol leader added, his tone calculated and firm. "It would be in both our best interests to let this matter rest here. Prolonging this… conflict will serve no one."
But Doflamingo's attention never wavered. His piercing gaze remained locked on Elder Saturn, as though the other voices were no more than whispers in a hurricane. To Doflamingo, they were irrelevant—mere background noise. His smirk widened as he caught the subtle tremor of Saturn's knuckles gripping his staff tighter.
The elder tapped his staff against the stone-paved pier with a resounding crack, the force of it sending tiny fissures skittering across the surface. The noise cut through the whispers and murmurs like a thunderclap, momentarily silencing everyone. Saturn was visibly reining in his fury, his jaw tight and his shoulders rigid.
"What do you want, Doflamingo?" Saturn finally asked, his tone icy but controlled. "In exchange for letting this matter slide?" The admission grated against his pride, but Saturn was no fool. He understood the gravity of the situation. Imu-sama's orders were absolute. Ensuring the Donquixote brothers' attendance at the upcoming Reverie was paramount, even if it meant swallowing this bitter insult.
Doflamingo's eyes gleamed with triumph at Saturn's words, but his expression remained that of a predator who had yet to decide whether to pounce. "Fufufufu… Now that you ask," he drawled, his voice laced with mockery, "let me think…"
His gaze drifted lazily to the chest with the severed heads before snapping to the crowd of World Government agents standing stiffly behind Saturn. His smirk curled wider into something wicked. "You know," he continued, "three has never been my lucky number. I think I'll take a fourth. Let's call it... balance."
With a deliberate, almost theatrical movement, Doflamingo raised his hand and pointed toward one of the seemingly unremarkable agents near the back. At first, the choice seemed arbitrary—just another pawn in the larger game. But as the Cipher Pol leader followed Doflamingo's finger, his expression froze, then darkened.
It can't be… the leader thought, his mind racing. Of all people, why him?
The agent Doflamingo had singled out was no ordinary operative. He was one of Aegis' hidden trump cards, a wielder of a rare and highly coveted Paramecia Devil Fruit—a space manipulation ability so dangerous that it was only to be deployed in the most extreme circumstances.
His presence here had been a carefully guarded secret, his role concealed even from most of the contingent. He had been placed among the regular agents deliberately to blend in and remain a hidden safeguard for Elder Saturn.
But Doflamingo's grin widened as though reading the Cipher Pol leader's very thoughts. He had known. Somehow, he had known all along.
The Cipher Pol leader's thoughts spiraled. How does he know? How could he possibly have identified him?
Unbeknownst to the World Government, Doflamingo had anticipated this exact move. His alliance with Shyarly, the clairvoyant seer of Fish-Man Island, had ensured he was forewarned. Allowing an enemy with spatial powers to roam freely within Dressrosa was tantamount to suicide, and Doflamingo had acted accordingly.
"You have one minute to decide," Doflamingo announced casually, his voice dripping with indifference as he turned on his heel and strode back toward his group. He didn't even bother to look back as he continued. "If we can't come to an understanding, I'll consider you hostiles and deal with all of you... accordingly."
Issho, standing a step behind Doflamingo with his blade sheathed and his demeanor calm, gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval. The rest of the Donquixote Family core stood ready, their expressions ranging from eager bloodlust to quiet resolve. The sheer confidence radiating from their side only deepened the sense of foreboding among the government contingent.
Elder Saturn's jaw clenched tighter. Even the subtle act of negotiation felt like bending a knee to this maniacal upstart. Yet, there was no denying the razor-thin tightrope he now walked. Doflamingo was no ordinary fallen noble or pirate. He was an Emperor of the Seas, and today he was demonstrating why the title fit him so well.
*****
Heavens Gate, Skypiea
The Heavens' Gate loomed ahead, an ethereal structure suspended high above the sea, its grandeur enough to make even the most seasoned sailors pause in awe. The massive gates were framed by clouds so thick and pristine they seemed carved from marble.
Their towering size made their purpose unmistakable: this was a threshold between worlds. Intricate golden patterns adorned the gate, reflecting sunlight in dazzling bursts that shimmered like divine fire. Above it, massive winged statues perched on either side, their expressions both serene and watchful. The faint sound of distant bells echoed, carried by the warm breeze as if announcing the arrival of something sacred.
"Woooow, is that the Heavens' Gate, Ross...?" Dora exclaimed, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief. She leapt up and down on the ship's deck with such force that it rocked dangerously. The giantess' infectious enthusiasm seemed to infect even the crew as she gawked at the gateway, her eyes wide with wonder.
I couldn't help but smirk at her unbridled joy. This was Dora, through and through—boundless energy and an obsession with power. She had declined the Devil Fruit I'd recently offered her, though I hadn't been surprised.
"Can the fruit's power help me sink islands like you do with a lightning pillar?" she had asked, her expression deadly serious.
Her words stuck with me. As a giant, her blood burned for war and dominance, and she seemed to measure everything in terms of raw destructive potential. While the fruit had its value, her goals were clear—she wanted nothing less than to match the devastating power I wielded.
Lucci broke the silence, his tone calm but laced with curiosity. "Master, if our plans brought us to Skypiea, perhaps Robin should have come with us. She would love it here—this place must be rich in ancient history."
His words had merit. Robin's fascination with the past and the mystery of lost civilizations would make Skypiea her paradise. But her absence wasn't unintentional.
"She needs to be in Dressrosa when the Elders arrive," I said firmly, my gaze lingering on the distant clouds that formed the Skypiean sea. "Robin's consumed the Nine-Tails Fox fruit. You know what that means. Her presence is crucial there when the time comes."
Lucci nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. I could see the gears turning in his mind. Whether his bond with Robin was one of budding camaraderie or something deeper, I couldn't tell—but his concern for her was evident.
Dora, who had been fidgeting excitedly at the wheel, turned toward me with a grin. "Ross, wasn't the plan to head straight back to Dressrosa? Not that I'm complaining…" She chuckled and leaned into the wheel as if her enthusiasm alone would speed our journey.
"I need answers, Dora," I said, my voice steady but firm. "Answers that might provide me with clarity. Skypiea has always been part of my plans. It's more than a safe haven—it's the perfect place to establish a hidden force. Anywhere below, on the seas, our movements can eventually be discovered. But up here... here we can build something untouchable."
The ship edged closer to the gate, the swirling clouds parting to reveal even more of Skypiea's wonders. The floating islands above gleamed like polished ivory, connected by cascades of glittering water that seemed to defy gravity. Golden sunlight bathed the clouds, making them glow with a surreal brilliance.
"A hidden force, Master?" Lucci pressed, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Yes," I confirmed. "And a place to train in peace, away from prying eyes. Skypiea might be the perfect place for me to fully understand my Devil Fruit's power."
He frowned slightly, folding his arms as Hattori flew ahead toward what seemed like a floating toll booth perched at the gateway. "So we're not returning to Dressrosa anytime soon? What if the World Government takes action? And what about the Reverie?"
"Doffy will manage things down there for now," I replied, my tone unwavering. "As long as they don't know my location, they won't make a move. They're too wary of our family. They still believe our bluff—that we hold an Ancient Weapon. Without concrete proof, they won't risk an all-out attack. As for the Reverie… Doffy has already decided to attend it himself. Trying to dissuade him would be pointless."
The ship slowed as we approached the Heavens' Gate, the clouds thinning to reveal a tollkeeper. She was an elderly woman with white wings, her serene expression betraying no emotion as she glanced at us. The faint hum of the toll bell reverberated through the air, a sound that seemed to welcome travelers and warn them in equal measure.
The Heavens' Gate stood as a testament to the mystique of Skypiea, its massive structure radiating an ancient, unyielding aura. The ship slowed as we approached, the looming gate framed by swirling clouds that reflected the golden light of the sun. Above the gate, ethereal winged statues stood sentinel, their watchful gaze a silent reminder of the trials one must overcome to reach this domain of gods.
An elderly tollkeeper emerged from her booth, her appearance as unassuming as her voice was melodic. Her wings, faded with age, fluttered slightly as she squinted at the approaching ship. The sheer size of it seemed to intrigue her momentarily, though she quickly masked her curiosity with a stoic demeanor.
"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying the peculiar harmony of someone who had seen countless travelers but never ceased to regard each with measured intrigue. "I take it you've come from the Blue Sea below? The passage to Skypiea requires a toll. May I inquire as to how many sailors crew this ship?"
Her tone was polite but formal, her pen already scratching across a weathered ledger.
Lucci answered promptly, his voice crisp. "We have a total of 57 sailors aboard."
Her hand froze mid-scribble, her sharp eyes snapping up to scrutinize the towering ship once more. For a moment, the tollkeeper's expression betrayed disbelief as her gaze landed on the childlike figure of a young cabin boy leaning casually on the railing. Clearly, she doubted such a behemoth could be manned by so few.
Still, it wasn't her place to argue. If there was a discrepancy, it would be for the island's security forces to resolve. Her job was simple—collect the toll and document arrivals. She adjusted her glasses and continued writing.
"That will be one billion extol per person," she declared without so much as glancing up, her voice calm. "A total of 57 billion extol."
The announcement was met with a stunned silence that spread across the deck like wildfire. The crew's jaws collectively dropped as the sheer scale of the toll registered in their minds. Whispers and muttered curses followed, escalating into a chaotic uproar. The figure was astronomical—beyond comprehension for even the wealthiest pirates among them. To them, 57 billion was akin to being told they owed the moon.
"What kind of scam is this?!" a burly deckhand growled, his hand tightening on his cutlass. "We're pirates, not bankers! We don't pay tolls—especially not for a price like that!"
Dora, ever the firebrand, was ready to leap off the ship and charge the tollkeeper herself, the deck creaking ominously under her shifting weight.
The old woman, unperturbed by the commotion, raised her pen once more. "Of course, you are free to enter Skypiea without paying the toll," she said casually, not even bothering to look up. "Though, if you do so, you will be deemed intruders and treated accordingly." Her words hung in the air like a thundercloud.
I stepped forward, the faint crackle of static energy accompanying my movements as I gazed at the old woman with a calm smile. "We'll pay the toll," I said, my voice slicing through the noise. "Let's keep this encounter harmonious."
The crew turned to me, stunned into silence. Lucci, ever sharp, gave a curt nod before vanishing in a blur of motion. He returned just as swiftly, carrying a sleek black suitcase that he placed on the deck with practiced precision.
The crew's disbelief grew louder. "Captain! That's insane! Even if we sold everything on this ship, we couldn't scrape together enough to pay that toll!"
Lucci, already piecing things together, asked a pointed question. "What's the exchange rate between berry and Skypiea's extol?"
The tollkeeper's lips curved into a faint smile, as though amused by the question. "One berry is equivalent to 10,000 extol," she replied smoothly. "Gold and other precious cargo are also acceptable."
I chuckled, my body vanishing in a flash of lightning. In the blink of an eye, I reappeared at her booth, setting down the suitcase before her. "That should cover it," I said evenly, my gaze meeting hers with unwavering confidence.
The tollkeeper's sharp eyes studied me for a moment before she began counting, her fingers working with practiced precision. She paused briefly to wet her fingertips with her tongue, continuing her task without missing a beat.
"You have unusually strong mantra," she remarked without looking up, her tone carrying an undertone of curiosity. "Or haki, as you Blue Sea dwellers call it. I've lived a long life, but I've rarely encountered a vitality as overwhelming as yours."
She paused, as if recalling something. "There was one man, long ago… He was close. But you surpass him comfortably."
Her words piqued my interest. "And what did that man do?"
The tollkeeper gave a faint chuckle. "He was a pirate too. And he laughed… quite oddly."
The crew stilled, her cryptic remark hanging in the air. She finished counting, snapping the suitcase shut. "Everything is in order. Your ship and crew are free to proceed. However," she added, glancing at the ship's massive frame, "a regular shrimp won't suffice for a vessel of this size. I'll arrange for a King Shrimp to escort you up through the clouds."
Her pen scratched against the ledger once more, marking our passage. "Wait a few moments for the King Shrimp's arrival."
As she spoke, I turned my gaze upward to the endless sky above. Skypiea awaited—a land of gods, secrets, and boundless potential. Whatever mysteries and challenges lay ahead, I was ready. Here, among the clouds, I would solidify my plans and begin carving a future that no force, not even the World Government, could touch.
*****
Skylark Island, New World
Lily trembled as she pressed her bare back against the cold stone wall, her breaths ragged and shallow. Her chest heaved, droplets of blood trailing from the corner of her mouth. The room was dimly lit, the flickering lantern casting ominous shadows on the faces of the Black Market goons encircling her. Their lecherous grins and mocking laughter filled the air, thickening the suffocating tension.
Her cover was blown. Months of painstaking infiltration had come undone in the blink of an eye. She had known the risks—had steeled herself for this possibility. But she hadn't expected it to happen so soon, not before she could secure the information she'd sought.
The Poneglyphs. The whispers of ancient knowledge hidden in this den of scum had drawn her here, but now that ambition felt like a distant memory. Her focus narrowed to one desperate question: how to survive?
"Cough... Cough...!" Lily spat blood onto the floor, her defiant eyes locking onto the hulking figure in front of her. The Black Market leader, a towering man with scars like battle trophies, grinned despite the knife buried deep in his shoulder.
Blood dripped from the wound, pooling at his feet, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes roamed over Lily's half-exposed form, his grin widening, filled with sickening malice.
"Ha... ha... HAHAHAHA!" His laughter boomed, sending shivers down her spine. "Who would've thought the infamous Demon of Ohara was hiding right under my nose? Nico D. Lily... a vixen in disguise. My, oh my, what a prize you are." His voice oozed menace as he licked his lips.
"I was keeping you around to ripen... to savor you in my own time. But now? Now I'll have my fun, and when I'm done, I'll claim the bounty on your head. Two hundred million berries, give or take. You're worth quite a fortune, aren't you?"
Lily's mind raced, calculating her odds of escape, but the walls of the room seemed to close in on her. The leering faces of the goons offered no reprieve. Her body was battered, her stamina drained, and the cruel glint in the leader's eyes told her he wouldn't stop until he broke her entirely.
She crossed her arms over her chest, as though shielding herself from his predatory gaze. Then, in a whisper so faint it was nearly swallowed by the tension, she said: "Seis Fleur."
With a burst of energy, six arms sprouted from the leader's torso, twisting and grappling him with an iron grip. His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his smug demeanor.
"So that's how you took out the men I sent to shadow you," he muttered, his grin never faltering.
"A Devil Fruit user. Clever little fox, aren't you? I should've realized sooner. Guess I let my... appetites dull my instincts."
Lily didn't waste a second. Her voice rose, filled with desperation and fury. "Clutch!"
The six arms twisted violently, attempting to snap his bones in a single, decisive move. But the sound of snapping joints never came. Instead, a dark, metallic sheen spread across the leader's body. Lily's summoned arms froze in place, powerless to move him even an inch.
"What...?" she gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief.
The leader's grin grew even darker. "You underestimate the New World, little girl." He chuckled, his body now shimmering with the unmistakable sheen of Armament Haki. "This thing is not something you would find in those books you like to read so much. It's what separates men like me from prey like you. Let me show you how it's done."
With a savage motion, he grabbed the spectral arms and crushed them, the petals dissolving into the air. Lily staggered, her last trump card obliterated. She stared at him, her mind refusing to process the futility of her situation. Desperation clawed at her chest. She pressed her back harder against the wall, gripping the knife in her hand.
Her thoughts turned bitter. Is this it? she wondered, tears welling in her eyes. Am I really going to die here? No. She wouldn't let herself be a victim to this monster. If death was her only escape, she would claim it on her terms. Her trembling hand tightened around the hilt of the blade, angling it toward her heart.
The leader laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. "You're done, girl. But don't worry... I'll make you beg for mercy before the end. Broken toys are no fun in bed, after all."
But then, as he stepped closer, the air shifted.
The laughter died.
A dry, cold voice, sharp as desert wind, echoed from the shadows near the room's entrance.
"Desert Spada…!"
The leader turned sharply, his instincts flaring, just as a bladed storm of sand roared through the air. The attack slammed into him with devastating force, sending him flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall, leaving a deep crater in the stone. Dust and debris filled the air as the goons turned toward the entrance, panic overtaking their faces.
Emerging from the shadows was a figure cloaked in a long, flowing coat. His presence radiated authority, his golden hook glinting ominously in the flickering light. Smoke curled lazily from the cigar clenched between his teeth, the acrid scent cutting through the stale air. His piercing eyes, colder than death itself, surveyed the scene with disdain.
"C-Crocodile!" one of the goons stammered, his voice cracking with terror.
Crocodile's gaze landed on Lily, lingering for a moment before shifting to the crumpled form of the Black Market leader. "Pathetic," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "You let your guard down for a little girl. How disgraceful."
The leader groaned, pulling himself from the rubble, his face twisted with fury and fear.
"Crocodile... What the hell are you doing here?! This is my territory!"
Crocodile ignored him, stepping further into the room. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of impending doom. "Your territory? It stopped being yours the moment I walked in. You've overstayed your welcome in my world. And as for her..." He glanced at Lily, his expression unreadable. "You're not dying here. Not today."
The leader roared, surging forward, but Crocodile merely raised his hand. The room filled with a howling storm of sand, swirling with such intensity that it left the goons scrambling for cover. Lily, still trembling, clutched her knife tighter, her eyes locked on the man who had just turned the tide.
In that moment, hope flickered in her chest. The storm had come, and with it, her salvation.