The year was 1521 of the Pirate Era. Marineford, the Navy Headquarters, stood tall once more. Thanks to the Umbrella Corporation's relentless supply of resources and the Marines' tireless reconstruction efforts, the island had risen from the ashes of the Marineford War. Three or four months had passed since the scars of battle were erased, and prosperity had returned.
The town gleamed with brand-new buildings, its streets bustling with life once again. Sephiroth, draped in his Marshal's cape, strode to the Marshal Office door. He pushed it open and stepped inside. Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru were seated in a row before the four chairs, while Sengoku sat behind the desk, waiting.
Sephiroth closed the door casually and took his place beside Kizaru. Sengoku clasped his hands together, his gaze sweeping over the four Admirals—each a symbol of the Navy's highest combat power and a force that kept the seas in check.
"I'm 78 years old now," Sengoku began, his voice steady but tinged with weariness. "My health isn't what it used to be. It's time for me to step back. That's why I've called you here today—to entrust the position of Fleet Admiral to one of you four."
Akainu's eyes sharpened instantly, his usual intensity dialed up to a new level. Aokiji's lazy demeanor vanished, replaced by a rare seriousness. Kizaru glanced sideways at Sephiroth, his expression unreadable. Sengoku cleared his throat, breaking the sudden tension.
"As Marine Admirals, you all have the qualifications to compete for this position," he continued. "Your abilities are beyond doubt. Choosing a successor has been... difficult. I've been conflicted for some time."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "After much thought, I've decided to let the four of you compete fairly—through strength. The method is simple: you'll be divided into two groups of two. You'll duel, and the winners will advance. The final victor will become the Fleet Admiral. The winner will have the final say; the losers will accept the arrangement. Any objections?"
Though Sengoku had secretly agreed with Sephiroth a year ago to hand him the position, appearances mattered. Obvious favoritism would breed discontent among the ranks. Sephiroth, confident in his strength, had suggested this method himself. Sengoku had considered it carefully and found it both fair and practical.
Sephiroth had his flaws—dark-hearted, ruthless, arrogant, extravagant, shameless... (the list went on). But compared to Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru, he was the most suitable candidate. He possessed the qualities a leader needed: discretion, decisiveness, balance, and ambition. He was strategic and forward-thinking.
Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru? Their flaws were glaring. One was too extreme, another too indecisive, and the third... well, his shortcomings didn't even warrant discussion. They were excellent frontline Generals, but they lacked the vision and coordination to command the entire Navy.
Therefore, they can be frontline Generals, but they are not suited to be strategists or commanders overseeing the bigger picture. And, of course, there was the unspoken truth: the Marine's finances were now entirely propped up by the Umbrella Corporation.
After reaching their secret agreement, Sephiroth had Sengoku adopt a strategy of delaying and evading aid requests from royal families across various kingdoms—likely to cut off the Marine's retreat. The requests were urgent: "Your country is facing a Revolutionary Army rebellion and is on the brink of collapse! We need the Marine to send troops to suppress the uprising immediately!"
The Marine's response was always the same: "We regret to inform you that our forces are currently stretched thin. We'll dispatch support as soon as we're able." And so, the kingdoms waited... and waited... until they were overthrown by the Revolutionary Army, with no Marine reinforcements in sight.
Meanwhile, powerful kingdoms, sensing the World Government's weakening grip, began to disregard the laws prohibiting unwarranted annexation wars. They turned their ambitions toward neighboring nations, launching armed aggressions and seizing territories for themselves.
Annexation wars erupted across the Four Seas and the Grand Line. Kong and the World Government's higher-ups issued statements urging peaceful negotiations and cautioning against unnecessary conflict. Yet they refrained from deploying the Marine to forcibly intervene and halt the violence.
Many member states of the World Government took note of this anomaly. Some even issued threats, demanding that the Marine step in to mediate. Kong and his associates, however, dismissed these demands, citing the complexity of the situation and claiming that Marine intervention was unsuitable.
The World Government's inaction led to widespread disillusionment. Numerous countries chose to withdraw from the organization, emboldened to initiate their own wars of expansion. The world descended into chaos, with nations turning on one another and conflicts erupting on every front.
As a result, the World Government's membership dwindled to just over forty states, excluding its directly governed territories. Its influence had weakened significantly, casting a shadow of decline over its once-mighty presence. Sengoku paused for a moment, glancing at the four individuals before him. Seeing no objections, he continued:
"Since there are no further opinions, I'll proceed with drawing lots for the groupings later."
At that moment, Kizaru raised a hand casually. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku, hold on for a moment. I have something to say."
Sengoku adjusted his glasses, his expression tinged with confusion. "Hmm? What is it?"
Kizaru's lips curled into a faint smile, one that radiated an air of deliberate annoyance. "Competing for a position... just the thought of it terrifies me. So... I withdraw."
Sengoku stared at him in silence, his expression unreadable.