Marineford, Marine Headquarters. The living room of a dilapidated residential building held a tense silence as Sephiroth laid out the photos from the God Valley massacre. Sengoku's face turned ashen, the weight of the images stripping away any pretense of composure. His usual commanding presence crumbled.
When it came to the Ohara incident, Sengoku could still rationalize it. He told himself the Marine's destruction of Ohara was necessary to maintain world order and stability. But the God Valley massacre? There was no justifying that. Even he couldn't spin it into something palatable. Kong glanced at Sengoku, then cleared his throat and spoke.
"I've served as a high-ranking World Government official for decades. I know exactly how rotten the system is, how corrupt the Celestial Dragons are. But the world needs order and stability—even if it's built on compromises." He paused, his voice firm. "That's why I've dedicated myself to reforming the World Government from within."
"Now that the Celestial Dragons are gone, along with Holy Land Mary Geoise, reform is within reach. I believe the Marine can truly embody justice." Kong's words hung in the air, earnest and hopeful. Clap! Clap! Clap! Sephiroth's sharp applause cut through the room. "Well said, Commander-in-Chief Kong!"
Then, with a smirk, he delivered the cold, hard truth.
"Ideals are beautiful, but reality is brutal. You want the Marine to uphold justice, but it all comes down to one thing—money. Without it, your lofty goals are nothing but empty words." He leaned forward, his tone cutting. "Money isn't everything, but without it, you can't do anything. Surely you understand that, don't you?"
"The Marine's salaries are due soon. Is your treasury still solvent?" Kong's face flushed with embarrassment. He shifted uncomfortably.
"Cough! We've discussed this. We're preparing to request financial aid from various nations..."
"The tenryuubito tribute was just paid. Now you're asking for more money?" Sephiroth's voice dripped with mockery. "How many countries do you think have funds to spare? And this isn't a one-time expense. You'll need astronomical sums every month, indefinitely."
"The Marine's annual budget consumes the lion's share of the tenryuubito tribute. How many more families will be destroyed under that burden?" His eyes narrowed. "Commander-in-Chief Kong, do you honestly believe you can practice justice with money soaked in blood and tears?" Kong remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.
When no one spoke, Sephiroth pressed further.
"Even if the Marine begs for funds, there's no guarantee the World Government Member States will comply. This sea can't function without the Marine..."
"There may be compromises, but we'll secure the necessary funding," Kong muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "Oh? And what if I use the Umbrella Corporation's influence to release these photos? What if I expose the Marine's role in God Valley to the world?" Sephiroth's smile turned icy. "A discredited Marine—how will the people view it then?"
"Is such a Marine still trustworthy? Wouldn't they consider forming a new organization to replace it?" His voice was calm, but the implication was deadly. Sengoku's fists clenched, his eyes blazing as he stared at the silver-haired man before him. "You!" he growled, his voice trembling with rage.
"I'm here today to negotiate a business deal with all of you." Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, his voice calm but edged with steel. "Whether it's a conspiracy or an open plot makes no difference to me. As long as it achieves my goals, I don't care about the methods. If I can't control the Marines, I'll destroy them completely. Controlling the Marines is merely one option among many in my plans, not a necessity."
He steepled his fingers, his gaze sharpening. "Let's consider the current state of affairs. Pirates run rampant across the seas. Nations rely on the Marines for protection, but they don't necessarily need this version of the Marines, do they? A fresh organization, untainted by past failures, would inspire far more confidence than the current Admiralty."
Sephiroth's tone shifted, growing colder. "Allow me to outline the consequences of rejecting my terms. The Umbrella Corporation controls thirty-two percent of the world's Berries. We can manipulate the entire market at will. If I choose, I can devalue the Berry overnight, widening your funding gap to insurmountable levels."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Beyond that, the Umbrella Corporation has overt ties with twenty-seven nations and covert alliances with nine more. If I wished, I could unite them all to publicly condemn the Marines for their past misdeeds."
Tsuru placed her hands flat on the table, her expression unreadable as she met Sephiroth's gaze. "The World Government consists of one hundred and seventy-two member states. While thirty-six nations under your influence is impressive, it's far from a majority. We still have opportunities to rally support for the current Marines."
Sephiroth chuckled softly. "No, no. Thirty-six is more than enough. You see, thirty-one of those nations are strategically located in the first half of the Grand Line, East Blue, and South Blue. To preserve the Marines, you'd only manage to persuade fifty-one out of eighty-two remaining nations to maintain their faith in your organization."
Sengoku's brow furrowed sharply. "What are you implying? What about the other ninety nations? Are you planning something against them?"
Sephiroth's smile deepened, enigmatic and unsettling. "No. I won't lift a finger against them, and neither will your Marines. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't. Those nations are scattered across the latter half of the Grand Line, West Blue, and North Blue."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Three pairs of eyes widened as the implications sank in. Without a word, Sephiroth reached into his suit jacket and tossed a freshly printed newspaper onto the table. The sharp scent of ink filled the air.
Morgans, ever the sensationalist, had been preparing to headline his next edition with the deaths of two Sea Emperors following the Marineford War. But a tip from one of his sources had delivered an even more explosive story. Holy Land Mary Geoise, the seat of the World Nobles, had been obliterated. All that remained was a gaping, bottomless crater in the sea.
The self-proclaimed gods had fallen in a catastrophe unlike anything the world had ever seen. This single event overshadowed even the deaths of two Four Emperors, pushing their news to the second page.
"Holy Land Mary Geoise and Fish-Man Island were destroyed, leaving behind craters similar to Enies Lobby's chasm—gaping wounds that severed the connection between Paradise and the New World." Sephiroth's voice was calm, almost conversational. "With Kaido of the Beasts and Whitebeard Newgate gone, the seas have plunged into chaos."
The three men stared at the newspaper, their expressions dark. Sengoku's right fist clenched with an audible crack. His jaw tightened as he growled:
"That bastard Morgans. How dare he publish such baseless rumors?" He slammed the paper down. "How can he claim the pit can't be filled? Does he have any idea what kind of chaos this will unleash across the world?"
The World Economic News article effectively declared that the Red Line now divided Paradise from the New World, splitting the globe in two.
Previously, the World Government's control over the world relied not just on its global influence, but primarily on the bubble high-altitude elevator system. This allowed troops to safely and efficiently traverse the Red Line.
Now, with Mary Geoise and Fish-Man Island destroyed, and a massive canyon carved through the Red Line, the bubble elevator had lost its upper anchor point. Transporting people across the Red Line was no longer possible. As for installing new elevators elsewhere...
The bubbles used by the high-altitude elevator were produced by Yarukiman Mangroves. While specially treated to maintain integrity far beyond their natural climate zone, these bubbles would still burst after a certain period.
Rebuilding the elevator system would require transplanting a significant number of Yarukiman Mangroves to both ends of the Red Line—no small undertaking. But even that was just the first step.
To restore the World Government's control over both sides of the Red Line, they would need to construct a fortified castle and station a substantial military presence there. Even working at maximum capacity, completing this project would take at least two to three years.
By then, given the current chaos across the seas, it might already be too late. The World Government itself might not even exist anymore.
Breaking the heavy silence, Sephiroth spoke up:
"Marshal Sengoku, since the destruction of Holy Land Mary Geoise, has the pit been filled? How can you be certain it won't end up like Enies Lobby?" His gaze sharpened. "Perhaps you've already guessed the pit might be unfillable, but you're clinging to unrealistic hopes. Am I wrong?"
The three men remained silent.
"For old times' sake," Sephiroth continued, "I've said everything—what should be said, and what shouldn't. The rest is up to you." He rose from his seat. "I'll give you one day to consider. By this time tomorrow, I expect your answer."
He moved to the door, hand reaching for the handle. As he prepared to leave, Kong's voice stopped him:
"Sephiroth, is your ultimate goal to rule the world by bringing the Marines under your control?"
Sephiroth paused, his hand resting on the doorknob. He looked up at the starry sky beyond the doorway and murmured:
"Rule the world? If you mean just this planet beneath our feet... then you're mistaken." His voice grew softer, almost reverent. "Conquering this world is merely a stepping stone. My true goal lies beyond—in the endless sea of stars."
"While you're still squabbling over this planet's petty conflicts, aliens have already landed on the moon." The silver-haired man's voice cut through the night. "I've fought them. And in the coming years, they'll reach Earth. Their technology outpaces ours by centuries."
His cloak billowed as he turned away. "When they descend and find us still playing these childish planetary games? We'll become another colony. I'd rather play StarCraft than house with you people."
Silence.
Three figures stood frozen as the young man dissolved into shadows. The night air hummed with unspoken questions.
Sengoku finally broke the stillness, rubbing his temples. "Aliens? You're telling me we're worrying about pirates when there are—" His voice cracked. "Are we supposed to believe this?"
Kong stroked his beard, eyes narrowed. "That brat's always been theatrical. You think he'd invent something this absurd just to mock us?"
Tsuru lifted her teacup with steady hands. The porcelain clinked as she set it down. "They exist." Her voice was quiet but certain. "I've seen fragments in the Celestial Dragons' archives. Redacted reports. Ship schematics that weren't human."
She met their stares. "But aliens aren't today's problem."
Sengoku drummed his fingers. "What if we send Gion again? She got Sephiroth to cooperate last time—"
Kong's scoff cut him off. "He only joined because of his grudge against Kaido. Didn't you notice?" His finger jabbed the table. "That boy could've crushed Whitebeard and Big Mom's crews during the war, but he focused entirely on the Beasts Pirates. Let the others weaken us."
"Now, there is a direct conflict of interest between the Marine and him, and Gion probably cannot interfere with his decision again..."