"What... what happened?"
The second Marine resurrected by Admiral Rosen opened his eyes. His expression was blank, gaze unfocused—much like Subaru when he first returned from the dead.
He stared at his hands. He should have lost them. Now, they were intact. He couldn't tell if he was dead or alive.
It wasn't until a fellow Marine beside him shouted, "You're back!" that the soldier snapped out of his confusion. He wasn't dreaming. He had been resurrected.
"Admiral Rosen!"
The resurrected Marine fell to one knee, voice choked with emotion. His eyes burned with fervor, looking at Rosen like a believer worshipping a deity.
This scene caused the Seven Warlords of the Sea to exchange complex glances.
If resurrecting Subaru was a fluke, seeing a second Marine return from the abyss proved one thing: Rosen could manipulate death itself.
"He can raise the dead," Crocodile muttered, the cigar in his mouth snapping between his fingers. "Is there anything this man cannot do?"
"Is he human?" Doflamingo murmured. The arrogant "Heavenly Demon" looked at Rosen with eyes that had lost their cruelty. The ambition to overthrow the Admiral had vanished. In its place was absolute submission.
Bartholomew Kuma clutched his Bible, whispering to himself, "If a god exists in this world, it is not the Celestial Dragons. It is him. Rosen. The God of the Marines."
Boa Hancock watched silently, desperately suppressing the adoration in her eyes. She remembered Rosen's every word, but she knew better than to let the other Warlords see her weakness.
Gecko Moria trembled. His fear of Rosen eclipsed even his dread of Kaido. To a pirate, Rosen was no savior—he was a demon of despair. If you opposed him, death was no escape. He would just resurrect you to kill you again.
Rosen ignored them. His focus was on his men.
He approached the third corpse. This Marine had been cleaved vertically in two—a gruesome sight. Fortunately, the halves had been collected.
"Double Heaven Return Shield."
Rosen opened his palm. Orange light bloomed, forming a barrier over the severed body.
"I refuse!"
With a shout that trampled death itself, the two halves reunited. An instant later, the corpse was restored.
The Marine's eyelids trembled, then opened.
Rosen dismissed the shield and moved to the next body.
Fourth. Fifth. Sixth.
With each cry of "I refuse," a corpse returned from hell. But with each refusal, Rosen's breathing grew heavier. His aura, usually as steady as the Red Line, began to falter.
When the one hundredth Marine opened his eyes, Rosen's breath hitched. His imposing presence, for the first time, flickered.
"Junior," Borsalino said softly, a chill running down his spine. He had watched Rosen rise from a cadet to the pinnacle of the world. He had never seen him this weak. "Perhaps you should rest."
"I'm fine," Rosen rasped. He adjusted his stance and approached the 101st corpse.
This body was worse than the others. It hadn't been severed or crushed—it had been torn apart by five horses. Or rather, five pirates using horses to rip the Marine limb from limb.
Rosen unleashed the barrier again. "I refuse."
The scattered pieces knit together. The Marine resurrected.
Then the 102nd. The 103rd.
After hundreds of resurrections, Rosen's complexion, usually vibrant as the sunrise, turned ashen. He swayed on his feet.
"Cough!"
As the 200th Marine revived, Rosen coughed violently. His mountain-like frame trembled.
"Enough." Douglas Bullet stepped forward, gripping Rosen's shoulder. The former pirate heir looked at the Admiral with undisguised worry. "Rest. You can revive them anytime."
Douglas Bullet had submitted to Rosen, not the Marines. To him, Rosen was worth more than the entire Headquarters combined.
"No," Rosen said, shaking off the hand.
Douglas Bullet frowned. "Do you remember what you said to me when we left Headquarters for the North Blue?"
Rosen adjusted his breathing, forcing his power to stabilize. "The day we collared Doflamingo?"
"You said using a full Susanoo to tame the Heavenly Demon was a waste," Douglas recalled. "I worried about your stamina then, too."
"And you remember my answer?"
Douglas fell silent.
"Power exists to be used," Rosen repeated his decree from that day. "There is no such thing as 'wasting' it. Our enemy was Doflamingo. It would be shameful if a single one of my subordinates was injured by his threads."
Rosen looked at the sea of resurrected Marines, his voice ringing out, clear and cold.
"The strongest Marine force isn't one that merely defeats the Four Emperors. It is one that achieves zero casualties."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Every Marine present—from the Admirals to the lowliest officer—stared at Rosen with complex, awestruck expressions. It was reverence. It was worship.
"This is your era," Borsalino whispered, removing his sunglasses. He bowed his head. "The name of this era is Rosen. No one can replace him."
Kuzan nodded in agreement, bowing his head lower than he had even when submitting in the New World.
"I will make you King," Sakazuki vowed silently. To him, Rosen was the perfection he could never achieve: a man capable of ending the Great Pirate Era, yet loving his subordinates like his own flesh. A protector of world peace who never harmed the innocent.
Rosen stood tall once more, his breathing steadying, his shadow stretching long across the deck. He looked at his men—his family.
"Stow your weapons," Rosen ordered, his voice carrying over the waves. "We return to headquarters. We have a war to win."
—-
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