The air within Marine Headquarters was charged as three striking figures held court before the imposing presence of Fleet Admiral Sengoku and the legendary Garp.
There was Admiral Kizaru, physically at ease yet practically radiating power from beneath the deceivingly composed facade. His speech patterns and mannerisms were almost an eerie mimicry of someone far older, significantly slower, in nature—a genetic oddity so strong it was absolutely par for the course for him.
On either side of Kizaru stood his colleagues: the grim-looking Akainu, who was Kizaru's right-hand man, and the suave Aokiji—their former protégé but now their equal. Together, and together alone, they forged a triumvirate of incomparable strength—with Kizaru standing secretly above them all to a chosen few.
"You three," growled Sengoku, behind his glasses, his glare matting down their hair, "explain to me why the Rocks Pirates walk the land as free men. With your combined strength, by now, they would be naught but a memory."
The admirals shot glances at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. Kizaru, his voice drizzling with feigned boredom, spoke first.
"Ooh, Sengoku-san, the future is such a delicate thing, ne? Sometimes, the smallest pebble can cause the largest ripples."
Akainu, his face a picture of stern resolution, added, "The world is a chessboard, Fleet Admiral. Every piece, no matter how insignificant it may seem, has its role to play."
Cooler than ever, Aokiji concluded, "time will take care of it, sir. Until then, we will leave it to the tides of time."
The three admirals stood still confident; their cryptic answers met with awed confusion between Sengoku and Garp.
Sengoku grew patient with the trio again. This time, he locked eyes with Garp for a moment; the years of experience spoke volumes in that one silent gesture. It was the voice of the Fleet Admiral—sharp, cutting through the vague answers.
"This is enough crap," Sengoku snarled as his fist pounded the table. "Garp, it seems we have been given no other choice. You will need to take down Rocks by yourself to bring an end to this foolishness."
Kizaru's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, the only flicker of surprise on his almost impassive face. "Ooh, Sengoku-san," he drawled his voice a lazy contrast to the weight of the situation. "Rushing into the future like that might lead us down a daaaaark path, ne?"
Akainu chimed in, his face set into stone. "If I might be so bold, Fleet Admiral—changing things now could have unforeseen repercussions."
The cool cat Aokiji just nodded his head, still with a far-away stare passing through the room's walls.
Sengoku's eyes narrowed a fraction further, his patience finally breaking. "You three will assist Garp in this mission. That's an order, not a request."
The three of Admirals exchanged glances, the silent conversation between them quite evident. Kizaru, his handsome features arranged into a mask of feigned concern, spoke up. "The future, Sengoku-san, it's like a house of cards. One wrong move, and… poof!" He made a gesture with his hands, mimicking an explosion.
Sengoku slumped his shoulders, the weight of the position visible in the lines of his face. He shooed them all away with a wave of his hand, heavy with disappointed tones in his voice. "Get out of my sight—all of you—I expected better."
As the three Admirals filed out, Kizaru in the lead with his yellow suit catching the glare, Sengoku couldn't help but feel like they knew something he did not—something that made even the world's strongest fighters take a step back.
The door slid shut behind them, leaving Sengoku and Garp in the darkness of the room, lost in their thoughts, with the nagging feeling that the future was going to be more than either had bargained for.
As the door to Sengoku's office clicked shut behind them, the three Admirals strode down the hallway, their faces masks of practiced indifference.
Once they were safely out of earshot, it was Kizaru's lazy drawl that broke the silence. "Ooh, that was a close one, ne? Thought for sure the old man had caught on to our little. extracurricular activities."
Akainu's chiseled expression softened just a hair with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his stern features. "Indeed. It's a good thing he remains fixated on the Rocks. Our other endeavors remain safe for now."
Aokiji's face remained placid, and he gave a simple nod. "The puzzle begins to fall into place, well as we've thought out."
The handsome face of Kizaru twisted into an over-the-top expression of mock concern. "Those poor, poor Celestial Dragons," he said, oozing sarcasm from his voice. "What a shame they keep meeting such unfortunate ends at the hands of those nasty pirates."
His companions glanced knowledgeably at each other and smiled, for they knew of the web of intricately woven fictions they had set at play.
It was all the magnificent mind of Kizaru behind it: every step they took, every move they made. With the coups of Lex Luthor, the might of Goku, the intuition of a Jedi, he had masterminded a flawless plan—so sinister that not even the cream of the World Government would catch wind of it.
Akainu's voice dipped into a whisper, darting his eyes about to make sure they weren't overheard. "The Celestial Dragons are a cancer upon this world. We may be Marines, but even we have our limits."
Aokiji nodded solemnly. "No one else had the guts to do it. It fell to us."
They could be heard mumbling among themselves as they went deeper into the corridor. These three Admirals were, at one time, the pride of the Marines but now trod a dangerous path, for they had become something more than just protectors of justice: they were the silent arbiters of a new world order.
Leading the way was Kizaru, whose laid-back exterior belied a fierce brilliance and power that resided within his very mind.
Echoed walked and now quieting, the footfalls faded; Kizaru found himself stomping within the labyrinthine gait of the Marine headquarters alone. His languid gait belied the storm of thoughts brewing behind half-lidded eyes. At stake was the weight of their clandestine mission against the proud dragons, the Celestial Dragons, but something else always nagged at the edges of his consciousness.
He craned his neck with a casual glance looking for anyone around, and with that, Kizaru's till-then-laid-back demeanor tensed into a keen focus. In his mind's eye, a shimmering interface materialized: the Store System, a power so arcane as to defy the very laws of their world. It was here, in this ethereal marketplace of abilities, that Kizaru's true strength lay hidden from even his closest allies.
As his eye drifted lazily over the spectral menu, something glinted his eye: Kaiju-Kaiju Fruit: the Black-Yellow Winged Godzilla. Its very existence seemed to mock the basic principles of Devil Fruits, promising power that could coexist with his Glint-Glint abilities. Kizaru grinned his biggest grin, the flicker of genuine excitement something one hadn't exactly seen in quite a while.
And with the thought, the fruit flickered into his hand. Its weight was that of untold power. "Ooh, how interesting," murmured Kizaru under his breath, though his voice did nothing to suggest the gravitas of the moment. Just like that, the strongest individual in all of the world became stronger than any living person in existence, and not one soul would ever be the wiser.
Through it all, immaculately sharpened plans took form within the very brilliant mind of Kizaru, unsheathed behind that lazy demeanor as sharp as a razor. Training would be required, of course, in order to harness such a new monstrous power. But most of all, secrecy would be paramount—Not even Akainu and Aokiji, his partners in his shadow war against corruption, were to know. Not yet, anyway. If Blackbeard could somehow do it, there was every chance Kizaru could be connected to that madman later down the line—and something he desired to at all costs avoid.
Mariner Haven was like most other port towns—swarming with life, a sprawling maze of weathered buildings and salt-stained docks. The three Admirals mingled into the passing throng; for an instant, that flicker in Kizaru's lazy gait made it seem as though an irresponsible human had momentarily forgotten his responsibilities.
"Ooh, Aokiji-kun," Kizaru drawled further, voice laced with an unusual weight, "this is where Akainu and I spent our younger days. Quite the nostalgic trip, ne?"
The former settled for a nod, only the sternness of his jaw having softened as he continued to view the familiar sights.
The three stopped at an intersection, worn by weather and redolent of brine and memories not quite near enough. Kizaru's voice, ever light, was now serious. "It's been years since we've set foot here, not since."
Akainu finished the thought, his voice husky with feelings he kept valiantly in check. "Not since your father passed, and Solara."
The change in atmosphere was noted by Aokiji; he raised his eyebrow. "Solara?" he asked in a quiet voice. Kizaru's response was slow and ponderous, each word being dragged from the depths of long-buried pain. "My childhood friend. She and my father. They fell to a pirate. Hellfire Hank, they called him.
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Continuing on their way, the familiar sights and sounds of Mariner Haven greeted them. For Kizaru and Akainu, it seemed every step took them back in time, back to days of innocence far removed from them now.
It hung heavy in the air—the weight of their shared yesterdays, of the tragedies that had made them.
Kizaru's slow drawl cut through the ambient noise of the port town. "Oh, Akainu-kun, have you noticed? The place's not quite like it was in our youth." His green eyes, half-lidded by nature into a constant expression of disinterest, now flicked around with unaccustomed acuteness.
"As you all know," he droned, his voice as cracked and sagging as ever, though the weight behind every word carried its own urgency, "Pirate activity has come to a screeching nonexistence, globally dropping by a whopping 98%." He made a wide gesture at the marketplace's bustle, the normally placid docks—there was a time when the air around here felt like the grim reaper gave it a pass. "Quite the change, ne?"
"It's been years of relentless pursuit, but we've finally brought order to these waters." The unspoken cost of this peace hung heavy in the air between them, a shared burden of their chosen path.
Aokiji, all calm and collected, yet boiling with thoughts inside, regarded them. The laughter of children, the easy conversations of merchants, the absence of constant vigilance that once defined life in a pirate-infested port—his voice, when he spoke, carried a weight that belied his usual nonchalance.
"If our brand of Absolute Justice had been in place from the start," Aokiji mused, his eyes far away, "perhaps you two's tragedy would never have occurred." The words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the losses that had shaped their shared past.
Akainu's agreement came swiftly, one of those rare moments when the three Admirals clicked into perfect alignment.
"True," he growled, fists tightening by his side. "We can't afford to let these horrors happen again." Kizaru kept his smile on his face as they walked through the changed Mariner Haven. The deep, real Kizaru churned away behind the mask of the amiable, lazy admiral with his brilliant brain whirring. He got new power, set new plans in motion—everything to achieve the life goal of Absolute Justice.
The three Admirals towered over two weathered gravestones, their great figures stretching long across the ground as the light waned soft and distant. Kizaru's always-grinning face finally fell, his lazy gaze stopped upon the etched names of his father and Solara. It was like the air had thickened around them, heavy with words unsaid, loaded with grief and memories put into thought.
Akainu's face, usually harsh lines, softened almost imperceptibly as he took in the loss of his best friend and his own as well—however short-lived he knew them to be. His fingers twitched as if in a desire to clench into that fist of retribution, the one which had become his trademark. The calm look on Aokiji's face was in stark contrast to the scene as it played out before him; his detachment at least matched by the contrast of emotions roiling inside of his person.
Kizaru's voice, when it finally broke the silence, was barely above a whisper. It had within it the weight of years of suppressed anguish. "Ooh, it's been so long, ne? Yet it feels like yesterday." His hand, normally one to move with loose casualness, touched against cold stone with a slight tremble.
As the sun dipped westward, filling the graveyard with long shadows, the thoughts of each admiral were their own. However, below those individual reflections, there ran a common current—deep and strong: pursuit of Absolute Justice, the dream of a world free from the chaos that claimed these lives and countless others.
Kizaru's eyes blazed in anger, the passion that flamed within him never shown to the world, but for the power he now held—one he had kept from his most trusted allies—a silent promise to the fallen pulsed within him.
Akainu's visage only hardened further into the set determination.
Aokiji stood silent in unspoken agreement, a burning conviction masked by his cool face.
As they turned to leave, the weight of what lay ahead sank into the three Admirals like a mantle. And in that moment, that brief lull of seconds, these three Admirals stepped forward as more than fellow arms or even friends. They became guardians for a future yet to be forged—tying loss with burning vision for justice that would never let go. And as they walked away from the graves, literally giving the backs of dead reminders to each other, there was Kizaru with his grin slowly coming back into place.
As they walked away from the graveyard, the weight of their shared past hanging heavy in the air, Kizaru's languid voice broke the somber silence. "Ooh, you know. I've been thinking, ne? Perhaps it's time for a little break."
Akainu frowned, confusion etched into his stern features. "A break, Borsalino? We are right in the middle of a critical mission."
Aokiji with his usual icy coolness displayed a hint of curiosity. "What kind of break did you have in mind, Kizaru-san?"
The perpetual grin widened just a bit, a sparkle of something impish dancing in his eyes. "Maa, maa. I'm talking about a break from this world, you see."
Akainu narrowed his eyes dangerous fashion. "What are you saying, Borsalino?"
"Oh, just that I'm thinking… how shall I say this… a bit of jaunt to another world, maybe. Or perhaps another universe."
Kizaru's lazy gaze drifted between his two shocked comrades as his grin never wavered. "Impossible? Maa, maa… you'd be surprised at what's possible, ne?"
He did not mention his Store System or the underlying mechanism that might make such a journey possible. Behind this careless face of his was veiled power and hidden secrets undecipherable to his closest of aides.
Akainu and Aokiji exchanged a glance— one of those exceedingly rare moments of perfect comprehension between the two of them. Both Admirals knew Kizaru well enough to tell when he was being serious, no matter how lazy the marine sounded.
"You're not truly jesting with me, are you, Borsalino?" Akainu's voice rumbles darkly.
Kizaru came back in his usual evasive manner. "Jest? Ooh, that would be quite the intricate prank, now wouldn't it?"
Kizaru's words began to settle in, and a strained silence fell over the three. Hanging unspoken in between them was a question: If Kizaru were truly capable of moving between worlds, what did that mean for their shared dream of Absolute Justice?
Aokiji broke the silence, his voice carefully flat. "And what about our mission, Kizaru-san? What about justice?"
For a moment, Kizaru's smile almost seemed to sharpen. "Justice? Now, that is a really interesting question, ne? Maybe true justice does require one to think over a wider angle."
He felt the grand halls of Marineford shake and resonate with heated voices as Kizaru faced his fellow Admirals, Fleet Admiral Sengoku, and the legendary Garp. He kept that same trademark grin upon his face, even as he reiterated his hyperbolic proposition.
"Ooh, just a little sabbatical, ne? A few years, give or take," Kizaru drawled, his usual easy tone nowhere near the grim turn the conversation was taking.
Sengoku literally clenched his fists at his sides, that composed mien shattering. "Years? Borsalino, are you out of your mind?"
Garp was propped against the wall behind him, arms crossed and laughing boisterously. "Ha! Always knew you were an odd one, Kizaru, but this takes the cake."
Akainu's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What about Coruscant?" he said venomously. "How can you possibly know when it's 'finished' if you're on this… break from the world?"
Kizaru grinned at him also cockeyed amusedly. "Maa, maa… I have my ways, you see." His vague response only served to deepen the furrows in Akainu's brow.
But Aokiji, being the reasonable voice, stepped forward. "Kizaru-san, deshou, you must understand our concerns. This is... unprecedented."
Even as the debate raged, Kizaru carried on a separate, silent one. His mind reached out, connecting across vast distances, to Nyon.
"My love," Nyon's thoughts resonated in his mind tinted with worry and obsession. "Are the tales true? Will you really be gone?"
Kizaru's mental voice was as lazy as his spoken one. 'Ooh, just for a little while, ne? Don't fret, my dear. Our connection will remain, even across worlds.'
Sengoku's face could not be more unknown. Patience had all but fled from him. "Borsalino, this is insanity. We need you here more than ever."
Kizaru's response was maddeningly casual. "Maa, the world will keep spinning without little old me for a while, ne?"
As Akainu opened his mouth to further protest, Kizaru held up a hand. "Now, now, let's not get all worked up. I'll be back before you know it."
'But how will I know you're safe?' Nyon's frantic thoughts thrust directly into Kizaru's mind with the force of an arrow.
'Our telepathy, my dear. It will bridge any gap, any world,' Kizaru reassured her silently.
The tension in that room was palpable, with glances bouncing off each other. They knew him enough to realize that there was steel in that lazy frame.
Garp was the first to break the silence. "Well, I'll be damned. You're really serious about this, aren't you, Borsalino?"
On his part, Kizaru was unrepentant in his grin. "Ooh, as serious as I've ever been about anything, Garp-san."
With a heavy exhalation that was almost a groan, Sengoku's weariness flowed outward until it was visible in the drop of his shoulders. "And there's nothing we can say to dissuade you?"
"Afraid not, Fleet Admiral," Kizaru replied, his tone almost there.
With that, there was no way to feel appropriate inevitability by now at the end of the meeting. Inevitability no longer lay in the 'if' of Kizaru's going away but in the 'when'.
'I shall be waiting, my love,' Nyon's thoughts whispered in Kizaru's mind.
'And I shall always be with you, in thought if not in body,' Kizaru responded in silence as his external demeanor betrayed nothing of both sides of the intense exchange.
As he turned to leave, Kizaru's grin took on an enigmatic quality. All the power he held, the mystery he was embarking on, and the secrets he took pains to hide were all simmering just under the nonchalant exterior he put forth.
Kizaru stood at the edge of Marineford, staring out at the endless horizon. Power lay as a heavy burden on his shoulders, unmatched and unmatched. "Being the strongest really can be a bore," he drawled to no one in particular.
The sun began descending, bringing in its wake shadows so long they cut the bay in two. Only now could Kizaru consider the possibilities lying beyond this world. A place for a real challenge, a new day, and a world most likely full of divine beauties, he contemplated with a lazy grin across his face.
Unbeknownst to his comrades, Kizaru did have one secret of his own. Unconsciously, he thought of the Store System—the power that was there since he could remember to offer a world-hopping quality like that of the gods. "'Maa, maa," he muttered to himself, "'tis about time I took it for a spin, ne?"
He accessed the system with only a thought, scrolling through countless worlds and realities until he found where he was headed: Greek Mythology—the real version. That was what he was looking for, and his eyes were lighting up. "Ooh, now that looks interesting," he chuckled.
Before it had to happen, Kizaru made one last purchase from the Store System: a power under the Notification branch. "Can't leave my dear comrades completely in the dark, now can I?" he reasoned, setting up notifications for all pertinent or related matters in the world of One Piece.
As the sun set behind him, Kizaru called his compatriots to join him at their last moment. Akainu's seemingly permanent scowl deepened. "I still think this is madness, Borsalino."
Kizaru's grin firmed up. "Ooh, madness? Yes. But then again, a little sprinkle of mad is what makes life interesting, ne?"
Aokiji, ever the pragmatist, took a step forward. "How long will you be gone, Kizaru-san?"
"Maa, who can say? Time flows differently between worlds, you know," Kizaru said with a wink.
As the stars started popping in this darkening sky, Kizaru turned back and looked at the others one last time. "Well, it's been fun, ne? Don't let the world fall apart without me."
Akainu's fists clenched at his sides. "Borsalino… if you're really doing this… just… come back in one piece."
Kizaru's laugh echoed around the bay. "Ooh, was that a pun, Sakazuki? How very unlike you."
With one last lazy wave, Kizaru closed his eyes. Mentally he turned on the Store System, verifying his destination. "Greek Mythology, here I come," he murmured.
And then, in an instant, he was gone. No flash of light. No dramatic thunderclap. He was just… suddenly... gone. One moment he was there, his yellow suit bright as actual sunlight against the darkness of the night sky, and then… nothing.
The shocked Akainu and Aokiji stared at the very place their companion had disappeared into. Suddenly, the One Piece world seemed a little emptier, a little less bright. And somewhere, in a realm of gods and monsters, an exceedingly handsome young man dressed in a striking yellow suit was about to make his grand entrance.