Inside the Hall of Authority at Pangaea Castle in Mary Geoise, the afternoon light streamed through the tall windows overlooking the sky above the clouds. There were five chairs.
Four seats are occupied. Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, the Warrior God of Defense and Science, sits with both hands resting on his staff.
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, the Warrior God of Agriculture, sits leaning back in his chair with his fingers interlaced in front of his chest.
Saint Topman Warcury, the Warrior God of Justice, sat upright in a military posture, both hands flat on the table, his thick mustache twitching.
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, the Warrior God of Finance, sat at the end of the table with a sword leaning against the side of his chair, his eyes half-closed.
The fifth chair was empty. Saint Marcus Mars, the God of the Environment, stood near the window as usual. His tall figure cast a dark silhouette against the afternoon light streaming through the glass. His arms were folded across his chest, his eyes gazing into the distance.
"Starting with the Admiral's seat," said Saturn, his voice breaking the silence.
Warcury tapped the table twice with his knuckles. "Since Admiral Nyamuk died in the Reverie incident, one Admiral's seat has never been properly filled. Kong was promoted to Fleet Admiral. Falcon is still on duty guarding the New World. But Falcon is old. His performance is declining."
"Falcon can't be relied on for the next few years," Mars added from the window without turning his head. His voice was heavy. "The New World is growing increasingly unstable. New powers are emerging every year."
Saturn nodded slowly. "Then there's Gin, who's stepped back into the rear ranks as an instructor. Practically speaking, we only have one active Admiral left who's still fit for combat." His eyes shifted to Warcury. "Your suggestion?"
Warcury didn't hesitate. "Zephyr. The Alternate Admiral with the longest and most consistent track record. He should have taken that seat years ago, but he always refused. This time, there can be no refusal."
"Agreed," said Ju Peter without lifting his gaze from his clasped hands. "Zephyr has strength and loyalty. He isn't ambitious, which makes him easy to direct."
Nusjuro opened his eyes. "Then the second seat?"
A moment of silence hung in the air.
"Garp," Mars said from the window.
Saturn shook his head slowly before Mars finished speaking. "Garp is the strongest fighter in the Navy after Kong. No one doubts that. But that man doesn't submit. He hunts pirates as he pleases, ignores direct orders, and shows no respect for the Sky Dragon."
"Promoting Garp to Admiral is just giving him more power to do foolish things," Ju Peter added flatly. "That Mad Dog also brings along young soldiers just as uncontrollable as he is."
Mars snorted softly from the window but didn't argue.
"Sengoku," Saturn said. "His achievements aren't as great as Garp's, but his loyalty leans toward us. He understands the chain of command. He follows procedure. And most importantly, he can be controlled."
Warcury nodded. "Sengoku as Admiral, placed to fill the vacancy. Not the ideal choice, but a safe one."
"Then it's decided," said Saturn. "Zephyr and Sengoku are promoted to Admiral. Zephyr is stationed in the First Division. Sengoku guards Marineford. Falcon remains in the New World until his successor is ready."
The five elders signed nothing. There was no official vote. In this room, verbal consensus was already the highest law.
----
The topic shifted.
Mars pulled out his chair and sat down. His fingers tapped the armrest rhythmically, a habit that surfaced whenever he was thinking about something that made him uneasy.
"The latest report from the Knights of the Gods," he said. "Garling, Sommers, and Maffey have returned to Shangara, wounded."
Nusjuro opened his eyes fully for the first time since the meeting began. His hand touched the hilt of the sword at his side. "Wounded? All three of them?"
"Not just wounded," Mars continued. "They were hurled from the Sabaody Archipelago all the way to Red Port. Hundreds of miles. By a single person."
A silence different from before fell over the room.
Saturn clenched his fingers around his staff. "Identity?"
"The Junior Admiral who once fought Garp and held out long enough despite losing," Saturn said, answering his own question. He had read the report before the meeting began. "Quentin Seven."
"The Red-Eyed Kid," Mars muttered.
Ju Peter released his grip and leaned back. "I've delved deeper into this case than the standard report. Data from the spies we placed in Marineford, plus Sommers' testimony I received this morning when I visited the Shangara Shrine."
Four pairs of eyes turned to him.
"According to Kong, Quentin Seven's Devil Fruit is a Mythological Zoan called Susanoo, known as the God of Destruction." Ju Peter raised a finger. "Kong says Quentin Seven hasn't maximized his Devil Fruit yet. He hasn't even fully awakened it."
"Not fully awakened and already hurled three God Knights hundreds of miles?" Warcury narrowed his eyes.
"More than that." Ju Peter raised a second finger. "Reports from spies in Marineford state that Seven initially fought on equal footing with Vice Admiral Garp before eventually losing." He paused briefly. "Sommers reported even more. In addition to summoning a giant skeleton he calls Susanoo—named after his Devil Fruit—Seven can create massive-scale fire, evade physical attacks like a Logia user, teleport instantly, and finally..."
Ju Peter lowered his hand onto the table. "...Conqueror's Haki. Infused into his attacks."
The room froze.
Mars stopped tapping his armrest. Nusjuro straightened his back. Warcury stared straight at Ju Peter. Saturn didn't move, but his knuckles turned white on the staff.
"Conqueror's Haki imbued into an attack," Warcury repeated, her voice low. "At such a young age?"
"Only a handful of people across the seas have mastered Conqueror's Haki," Saturn said slowly. "And even fewer are capable of imbuing it. Rocks D. Xebec, who is gathering a crew in the New World. Gol D. Roger, who sailed the Grand Line with Rayleigh and Gaban by his side. Harald of Elbaf, who is trying to join the World Government. Shirohige, Shiki, and Linlin, who have just joined under Rocks' banner. Those hiding in the depths of the New World." Saturn paused for a moment. "Sengoku and Garp—Garp is a cause for concern. Sengoku's sense of justice still leans toward us, and he can still be controlled. But Garp..."
Saturn shook his head slowly without finishing his sentence. Everyone at the table understood without needing words.
"People with Conqueror's Haki are hard to subdue," Nusjuro continued. "They hide great ambitions. Always."
"And now there's another one emerging from the Navy's own ranks," Mars added.
Ju Peter wasn't finished. "There's more you need to hear."
He took a short breath. "From intelligence records before Quentin Seven was transferred to Marineford and stationed at the Sabaody Archipelago," Ju Peter glanced briefly at Mars, who clenched his jaw at the mention of the archipelago's name—everyone at this table knew the chaos Seven had caused there—"there's one ability not listed in any official report. Black fire."
"Black fire?" Nusjuro tilted his head.
"Fire that never goes out," said Ju Peter. "Several eyewitnesses from islands that were once attacked by pirates and cleansed by Quentin Seven reported the same thing. A pitch-black fire that kept burning even as rain fell. A fire that reduces its target to ash. Seawater cannot extinguish it."
The four chairs at the table creaked almost simultaneously as they shifted.
"An omen?" Mars said, his voice suddenly sharp.
"Like Her Majesty's ability?" Warcury added.
Saturn and Nusjuro exchanged glances.
Ju Peter raised his hand. "Different. I've verified it. Her Majesty's black fire is a manifestation of Dominion, from a binding pact. Quentin Seven's black fire lacks those same characteristics. It's an ability that originates entirely from his Devil Fruit."
The tension in the room eased slightly, but didn't disappear entirely.
"A Mythological Zoan Devil Fruit that independently generates eternal black fire," Nusjuro muttered, his fingers running along the hilt of his sword. "That alone is a top-tier ability."
"That's not all," Ju Peter continued. "Quentin Seven can also attack enemies with illusions. His victims reported being trapped in a nightmare that felt real for hours, even though in the real world it only lasted a few seconds."
Warcury shook his head slowly.
Ju Peter continued. "One more thing. Near the Kingdom of Alabasta, Quentin Seven once fought Gol D. Roger."
This time, all movement in the room came to a complete halt.
"The outcome of that battle is not officially known," said Ju Peter. "But by word of mouth, rumors circulating among Navy soldiers and local residents say Roger appeared to be in pain when facing Seven."
Mars slammed his palm against the armrest of his chair. "Gol D. Roger was in pain because of a Junior Admiral?"
"Rumors," Ju Peter emphasized. "But consistent rumors from several different sources."
A long silence filled the room. The candles on the walls flickered softly, the shadows of the five elders swaying on the white stone.
Saturn was the first to speak.
"Summarize." His voice was flat, but there was an unusual weight to it. "One person. A Mythological Zoan Devil Fruit of the Susanoo type. A giant skeleton capable of withstanding attacks and striking back. Black fire that never goes out. Ordinary fire with extremely high temperatures, like a Logia-type fire Devil Fruit. Teleportation. A body impervious to attacks like a Logia. Illusions. Conqueror's Haki that can be layered onto attacks." Saturn looked at his comrades one by one. "A Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit with abilities this versatile?"
No one answered.
They were all thinking the same thing.
A Devil Fruit that makes the user's body like rubber. A Devil Fruit that allows the user to create anything from their imagination.
A Devil Fruit the World Government has been trying to control for eight hundred years. A Devil Fruit they renamed Gomu Gomu no Mi to erase it from history.
Hito Hito no Mi, Model Nika. Mythological Zoan: Sun God. The most absurd and most dangerous power in the world.
That fruit has not yet been discovered by anyone. It remains hidden somewhere in the ocean.
But the appearance of another Mythological Zoan with abilities just as versatile, just as absurd, made the five people in this room feel something they rarely felt.
Especially one bearing the name of a God. It made them uneasy.
"We can't ignore this," Warcury finally said. "But we also can't act rashly. Rocks is gathering strength. Roger's Pirates are currently giving the Navy a headache. Shiki and the others who've just joined Rocks. If we remove a competent Navy Rear Admiral in the middle of a situation like this, we lose a pawn who's still useful."
"Monitor," Saturn said. "Keep monitoring his movements. Every new ability that emerges, every contact he makes, every step he takes. I want a report from Cipher Pol."
Four nods.
Saturn stood from his chair. His cane tapped the stone floor once.
"There's one more thing we must do today."
The five elders moved in unison. They left the round table, passed through the heavy door at the back of the room, and entered a long corridor. The air in the corridor changed—colder, heavier, filled with a silence that felt alive.
They walked toward the forbidden place on Mary Geoise.
The place where the Ruler of the World awaits.
----
The Sabaody Archipelago, one week later.
A gentle morning breeze blew in from the sea. Bubbles rose from the roots of a giant tree, reflecting the morning sunlight in a rainbow spectrum of colors.
At the edge of a small pier behind Grove 66 Naval Base, Quentin Seven sat cross-legged with a fishing rod in his right hand. A cup of green tea, steaming lightly, sat beside him on a wooden tray alongside a plate of onigiri.
Beside him, a small, deep-blue cat with blue flames blazing across its body sat curled up—far smaller than its true form, which stood hundreds of meters tall—but its presence was enough to send the Sea Kings around the pier scattering in fear.
Matatabi yawned widely, revealing a row of fangs that glinted blue. His twin tails swayed gently.
"No one's going to bite your bait while I'm here," Matatabi growled.
"True," Seven replied without turning his head. "But I'm not fishing for fish."
Matatabi snorted. The blue flames on his body flickered once.
A peaceful morning. Clear skies. Soap bubbles drifting by. The sound of waves and the chirping of seagulls.
Then the Den Den Mushi in the pocket of Seven's coat rang.
Purupurupuru. Purupurupuru.
Seven picked it up.
"Seven." Kong's voice came through the communication snail immediately, without preamble, though his tone was slightly lower than usual. "I managed to cover up half of what you did in the Sabaody Archipelago."
Seven didn't answer. He waited.
"Gin-san is helping from here too. We're framing the incident as a large-scale pirate nest cleanup involving a battle with an unknown fugitive. The official report doesn't mention third-party involvement from above." Kong's voice paused for a moment. "But that won't last long, Seven. They have eyes and ears everywhere. Sooner or later, they'll figure out the whole picture."
Seven stared at the shimmering surface of the sea in the morning light.
"So, Seven. Go to the New World."
Seven's eyebrows raised slightly.
"You have to make a big name for yourself there," Kong continued. "A name so big they can't touch you. A name too big to erase without causing chaos—one that makes them think twice before acting."
Seven fell silent.
By then, he had already mapped out the worst-case scenario. Leaving the Navy. Building a new force from scratch.
A Revolutionary Army that had never existed in this world, since Dragon himself hadn't joined the Navy and established a Revolutionary Army. He had mentally prepared himself for that possibility.
And now Kong was offering him another path.
The corners of Seven's lips slowly turned upward. He held back his laughter.
"Alright, Brother Kong," he said, full of enthusiasm. "I'll go to the New World."
After a brief pause, Seven added, "By the way, did Brother Zephyr finally receive his promotion to Admiral?"
"He had no choice this time," Kong replied. "Zephyr was assigned to the First Half. In the New World, there's Falcon."
Seven nodded silently, then saluted even though Kong couldn't see him. An old habit.
"Understood. Thank you, Brother Kong."
Click.
The Den Den Mushi fell silent again.
Seven stared at the fishing hook in his hand for a few seconds, then smiled faintly. The Sharingan pattern flashed briefly in his right eye. The fishing hook, line, and all the fishing gear were sucked into a small vortex that opened in his right eye, vanishing into the Kamui dimension.
Matatabi lifted its head, its blue flames blazing a little brighter. Without a word, the cat slowly shrank into a bluish-glowing shadow that reentered Seven's body through his left chest.
Seven stood up. The sea breeze ruffled his cloak of justice.
The New World.
The farthest seas. A place where only the strongest survive. A place where the strongest pirates gather, where power and madness coexist without bounds.
And there, there must be plenty of Devil Fruits.
His excitement was hard to hide. For the first time in a long while, Quentin Seven felt pure anticipation. Not caution.
But the joy of a man who knew that at the edge of that sea, his power would grow even stronger. Every Devil Fruit he absorbed would awaken the Bijuu still slumbering within him. Saiken. Chomei. Gyuki. And finally, Kurama.
But behind that joy, a cold shadow lurked in the corner of his mind.
The World Government won't stay silent forever. They possess weapons that, even in the future—in an era yet to come—are capable of erasing a kingdom from the world map in the blink of an eye, causing the sea level to rise every time one is activated. Uranus. A destructive force that makes a Buster Call look like fireworks.
If they decide that Quentin Seven must be wiped out, they won't send an Admiral. They'll send something far worse.
So he had to be faster. Stronger. All the Bijuu had to awaken before that moment arrived.
Seven picked up his teacup, took a sip of the remaining green tea that had gone cold, then set it back on the tray.
"Sakazuki. Borsalino."
Two voices answered from within the base.
"Ready, Brother."
Seven turned to face the base. His dark eyes stared straight ahead.
"Prepare the ship. We're setting sail for the New World."