When a lofty, invincible, supreme, and majestic image of "God" is shattered again and again—when that once untouchable being is dragged from the heavens and exposed to the world's gaze—then "God" ceases to be God.
And in the instant that false divinity falls, the "peace" the Government has propped up with it will collapse as well.
Rebellions would ignite.
Anyone with even the faintest spark of ambition would find it impossible to resist the urge to move.
That was human nature.
After all… who could resist the intoxicating thrill—the primal hunger—of "slaying God"?
As the thoughts raced through him, Kong felt something heavy and bitter rise behind his eyes, as if he could already see the world swallowed by war—endless fire, endless blood.
"Enough about resignation, Kong," Saint Warcury said, authority ringing in every syllable. "The Government still needs your strength."
He clapped Kong on the shoulder, voice deep and grave.
"The times are treacherous. The winds of change are howling. As long as you can shoulder the responsibility of upholding justice and safeguarding world peace…"
Kong exhaled silently and nodded.
"Yes, Saint Warcury," he said. "I was too rash earlier."
"If there's nothing else, I'll return to my duties. Reassuring the representatives of the Member States, coordinating with the news agencies, sealing sensitive information, handling personnel—everything is urgent."
"Hm. Thank you for your efforts," Warcury replied blandly.
Kong straightened, snapped a crisp salute, and turned to leave with brisk steps.
Watching him go, Borsalino couldn't shake the feeling that Kong's broad back looked a touch more worn than usual—his posture somehow more stooped than the rigid, cold bearing he was known for.
The Gorosei watched until Kong disappeared, their eyes narrowing slightly, gazes flickering with quiet calculation.
"Looks like there's nothing left for me to do here either," Borsalino said with a shrug, spreading his hands.
He was just about to disperse into light when Saint Saturn's harsh voice stopped him.
"Borsalino. One more thing."
Borsalino froze mid-motion and turned back.
"How far has Vegapunk gotten," Saturn asked, "with the development of… that?"
All five gazes converged on him. The same oppressive weight Kong had shouldered settled onto Borsalino's shoulders.
He scratched his head, annoyance leaking through his usual drawl. "My apologies, Your Excellencies… Dr. Vegapunk's experiments have entered the final critical phase, but there are still several key technical breakthroughs needed."
"…By his own assessment, fully mastering the technology will require more time."
"Tell him his time is running out," Saturn said, voice grim. "We can't afford to wait. He must produce a prototype for preliminary testing as soon as possible."
A sharp glint flashed behind Borsalino's sunglasses. He nodded, putting on a practiced smile. "Understood. I'll convey your urgency and press Dr. Vegapunk immediately, Your Excellencies."
"Hm."
Saturn flicked a hand, dismissing him.
Borsalino's body dissolved into light and vanished.
And then an arrogant silhouette drifted down from the sky.
A pink feathered coat snapped in the wind as Doflamingo landed, clicking his tongue and letting out a cold laugh.
"What a spectacular farce, you old geezers."
Saint Mars's sneer sharpened.
"Doflamingo, don't stand there running your mouth. We haven't settled accounts with you yet for what happened just now. Why didn't you attack Rogers Darren? You're the Vice Commander of the Knights of God!"
"Heh heh heh heh heh!!"
Doflamingo burst into laughter so hard his shoulders shook, like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.
"Hey, hey—don't be ridiculous," he said, pointing at his own face as if the very idea was absurd. "Me? Attack Rogers Darren?"
"I don't feel like ending up like that idiot Garling—losing an arm for nothing." His grin widened, sharp as a blade. "Besides… I don't have your freakish 'regeneration,' do I?"
Saint Nusjuro's eyes darkened with malice, his voice rasping as he stared Doflamingo down.
"So what? You just stood there and watched? Aren't you worried we'll start questioning your loyalty?"
By the final word, the killing intent in the air was unmistakable.
A chill slid down Doflamingo's spine.
He understood perfectly.
This was the last test.
If he couldn't give them an answer they found satisfactory, he wouldn't be leaving Mary Geoise alive.
He narrowed his eyes. A scornful sneer twisted his mouth.
"Stop testing me, you old geezers…"
"If I attacked that bastard and still managed to survive, that's what would look suspicious, isn't it?"
"I'm not a fool like Garling. I know better than anyone how terrifying that man's methods are."
Hatred blazed in his eyes, veins standing out across his forehead like writhing worms.
"I've suffered plenty at his hands back in the North Blue…"
"Rogers Darren…" His voice fell, cold and sharp. "I'll deal with him eventually. Just not today."
"Charging in without a plan because of some idiotic impulse—what's the difference between that and being a brainless dog?"
The Gorosei fell silent.
Then, as one, they smiled—knowing, satisfied.
"Excellent. We haven't misjudged you, Doflamingo."
"Though noble blood runs in your veins, you've maintained remarkable composure and prudence. You haven't let status inflate your ego."
"From this day forward, you may access all training resources within Cipher Pol."
"Grow stronger quickly, Doflamingo…"
"The King of God Valley may be a legend for the history books, but a rising star like you is equally worthy of anticipation."
"Do not betray our trust—"
"Spare me the empty talk," Doflamingo sneered, cutting them off. He turned on his heel and rose into the air, leaving with the arrogant grace of a flamingo taking flight.
On the ruined platform, only the Gorosei remained.
"Kong has grown old," Saint Saturn murmured, his voice hoarse.
The five turned and began ascending the shattered Stairway to Heaven, their expressions hardening into cold resolve.
"But there's no better candidate at present."
"Indeed."
"We must act quickly."
"Even if Vegapunk hasn't succeeded yet."
"Report to His Excellency."
"Deploy the last of our resources."
"Agreed."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
…
A violent wind tore through the broken debris, snapping their black cloaks.
Step by step, the Gorosei climbed, their figures seeming to stoop further with each ascent.
"For the reign of the Celestial Dragons."
"For the stability of the World Government."
"For the eradication of absolute evil."
"For eight hundred years of unchallenged authority."
"For the world's… peace."
Their eyes darkened. Murder gathered in their gaze.
"Erase that bastard…"
"Completely."
To be continued...