May 1510, Marineford experienced a heavy snowfall.
The temperature plunged more than twenty degrees. The world was a vast sheet of white—frost-covered, icy winds whistling through the air.
A patrol team of Marines, assigned to this shift, trudged along the Crescent Bay. After enough time in the cold, their hands and feet inevitably went numb.
"So cold…"
A skinny new recruit, recently transferred to Headquarters, rubbed his hands together and blew into them, complaining, "The weather this year is way too abnormal. Snowing this heavily in this season…"
As he spoke, he instinctively glanced at the burly petty officer leading the team, his face full of envy.
"Captain, are you really not cold at all? You're not even wearing a padded coat. If I dressed like you, I'd freeze to death!"
"Hahaha, silly kid, I'm from the North Blue just like you. I've been used to this since I was a brat. Besides, with my physique, this little drop in temperature won't affect me."
The old Petty Officer lit a cigarette, clapped the recruit's shoulder, and laughed as he encouraged him:
"That's why, Drake, you've gotta work harder during training. Once you reach my level, this 'harsh winter weather' becomes nothing."
"Reach your level?"
The skinny recruit named Drake scratched his head. "That feels really far away… Captain, you're so strong. I don't know if I can ever catch up in this lifetime."
"Useless brat. Can't you have a little ambition? At the very least, surpass your old man."
The Petty Officer exhaled smoke. "Strength like mine isn't much in Headquarters. I don't even qualify to participate in the upcoming war."
"Huh???"
Drake's eyes widened. "No way—you're not qualified?!"
"What did you think? The ones going to this war are only the elite of elites. The lowest rank among them is Ensign."
The Petty Officer chuckled helplessly and pointed to the row of docked warships in the distance. "See that row of ships?"
"That is…"
Drake looked in that direction.
"Those are elites dispatched from major branches these past two days! From the Four Blues to the New World. And this is only the beginning."
"More and more elite forces from every region will continue to arrive at Headquarters. This war is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime colossal battle!"
The Petty Officer grew increasingly excited, his eyes blazing:
"The fate of Marines and pirates—the direction of the world and this era—will be decided by this war!"
Almost as if responding to his words, a piercing buzz came from the harbor loudspeakers, followed by a clear announcement:
"Marineford Notice: Two large standard-model warships from G2 Branch have arrived at port. Total personnel: 2,300. After disembarkation according to port instructions, proceed to Headquarters Camp No. 23 for assembly."
"…Repeating: Marineford Notice, G2 Branch large standard-model warships, two units, have arrived—total personnel 2,300. After disembarkation, proceed to Headquarters Camp No. 23."
…
Looking northeast through the heavy snowfall, two massive white silhouettes—no smaller than Headquarters-standard warships—were slowly sailing in.
"Oh! Mr. Kizaru has arrived!"
The Petty Officer froze for a moment, then perked up, cigarette bobbing at his lips as he grinned. "Mr. Kizaru is here! Other than Garp, he's the strongest Vice Admiral in the entire Marines! Hey, boys, want to follow me over to take a look?"
"Of course!"
"Let's go, Captain!"
The Marines behind him grew excited as well. Kizaru had shaken the seas for years, his reputation towering. Even though he was still only an Admiral Candidate, in the eyes of Headquarters' Marines, he was no different from a full Admiral.
It was rare for them to return to Headquarters, and many of the new recruits in the patrol team had never seen this legendary figure before. Naturally, they wanted to go take a look, to satisfy their curiosity and admiration.
Drake instantly forgot the cold and quickened his pace, following the others toward the northeastern shore.
But before he had run far, he suddenly noticed that the old Petty Officer had fallen behind. Turning around, he saw the officer had somehow stopped walking. He was staring blankly at the southwestern sky—so dazed he didn't even notice the cigarette falling from his mouth into the snow.
"What's wrong, Captain?"
Drake asked in confusion. "Didn't you say you'd take us to see Mr. Kizaru?"
"Go see Mr. Kizaru?"
The sound of his voice snapped the old Petty Officer out of it. The latter suddenly grabbed Drake's shoulders, his eyes shining with an excitement Drake had never seen before.
"C–Captain…?"
Drake stammered. It was the first time he'd ever seen the normally steady Petty Officer lose his composure like this.
"See what Mr. Kizaru? You think we have time for that right now?!"
The Petty Officer jabbed a finger toward the southwestern sky, practically shouting in wild laughter:
"Lightning! Look! Drake—there's blue lightning coming this way!"
"Do you know what that means?!"
Lightning?
Blue lightning?
Drake froze for a second. Then his eyes shot wide open as he suddenly understood. He looked up sharply, hardly daring to believe it.
"You mean—!"
"That's right, Drake!"
"It's White Dragon! Mr. White Dragon has finally returned to Headquarters!!"
…
RUMBLE—!
Rolling thunder approached rapidly from the distance. Under countless focused gazes, a streak of azure light halted above Marineford Harbor, revealing Nao's figure.
"Marineford…"
Nao looked at the majestic white fortress ahead and smiled lightly.
"It's really been a long time."
He reached out a hand, watching snowflakes fall onto his palm and melt instantly. His eyes softened with nostalgia.
If he remembered correctly—the first time he ever left the East Blue and came to Headquarters to report, it had also snowed this heavily.
Counting carefully, it had now been exactly ten years.
"Ten years already, huh…"
Nao let out a faint sigh.
A full decade.
If he closed his eyes, the memories from ten years ago felt like yesterday, overlapping perfectly with the snowy scene before him.
The only difference was this:
Ten years ago, he had been a nameless boy from a remote East Blue town, standing on Marineford soil for the first time, gazing up at the towering Headquarters fortress with nothing but yearning.
But now—
Ten years later, in a blink—
He was the White Dragon whose name shook the four blues, a powerhouse standing at the very peak of the world.
And beneath him, inside that same fortress, were countless Headquarters elites eagerly awaiting his return—and a long-prepared Admiral's seat.
A faint commotion rose from below. Nao looked down to see the massive Marineford plaza gradually filling with Marines who had spotted him. Ecstatic, they waved up at him, and when his gaze met theirs, they straightened and saluted with trembling excitement.
And this was only the beginning.
Within a few hours at most, the news of Nao's return would spread across all of Marineford, igniting a wave of uproar.
Nao smiled and waved downward, then without lingering, turned once more into a streak of azure light, shooting toward the Headquarters fortress.
…
Atop the Headquarters fortress, a high-level meeting was underway. The moment they sensed Nao's presence rapidly approaching, nearly everyone exchanged glances—and then rose from their seats, unable to hide their excitement.
Thus—
When Nao stepped through the conference room doors, he was immediately surrounded on all sides by a crowd of familiar faces.
"Mr. White Dragon!"
"Nao! You bastard, you're finally back!"
"Hahaha, you brat! I've missed you so much! Come here, let this old man give you a hug!"
…
"Hey hey hey, isn't this a bit exaggerated?"
Nao casually pushed away, evading Garp's large hand that had just been picking its nose. Then, under the old man's resentful gaze, he smiled and looked around at everyone
"I mean, guys, I was only gone a few years. Why are you acting like we've been separated for decades?"
"You still have the nerve to say that!"
Before he finished, he got kicked from behind. Turning, he saw Gion, who had appeared without warning, her almond eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Hey, didn't you say yesterday that you wouldn't make it back until Monday? Why did you show up several days early?"
"Because I missed you too much, Rear Admiral."
Nao leaned in and planted a light kiss on her beautiful cheek. Pulling back with a smile, he shrugged.
"So I sacrificed all my rest time, traveled day and night at full speed, and finally—"
"Still spouting nonsense."
Gion rolled her eyes, annoyed.
"Go, go—look at the situation! Acting all mushy when we've been like an old married couple for years already. Aren't you embarrassed?"
"Oh? Then tonight I'll stay with Bellmère and Shia. You can sleep with Nami and the others."
"You dare!"
"Alright, enough! Take your seat quickly!" Aokiji suddenly punched Nao's shoulder and scolded jokingly, "I had enough of you two shoving dog food down my throat back at Headquarters. Finally had a few years of peace, and as soon as you're back, you're force-feeding me again, is that it?"
Amid laughter, everyone took their seats again. Compared to three years ago, the annoying Fleet Admiral Veil had been kicked out, and the few old veteran Vice Admirals who used to dislike Nao had retired. Now, everyone qualified to attend the highest council was someone close to him.
Of course, there were a few new faces.
For example—
"Onigumo? Momonga?" Nao noticed the two sitting in a corner and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. You two became Vice Admiral too?"
"Yes, Mr. Nao."
Both Momonga and Onigumo nodded quickly, then exchanged a knowing smile—clearly remembering the days aboard the Thunder Hawk, following Nao into countless battles.
Those days were unforgettable…
Without that period of hardship, without Nao's guidance, they would never have grown so fast—surpassing their peers and becoming part of the new generation of Headquarters Vice Admirals.
"Alright, back to business."
Once the room settled, Nao looked toward Sengoku at the main seat.
"Continue the discussion. Where were you?"
The seat he took was the only empty one in the front row—clearly left for him—right beside Sengoku's right hand.
Across from him, on Sengoku's left, sat Akainu.
Aokiji, Garp, Tsuru, and the others sat even farther back.
"You really are as impatient as ever…"
Sengoku shook his head with a helpless laugh, then let out a sigh as his expression turned serious.
"Fine, let's continue. We were discussing preparations for the upcoming war. All major branches are fully cooperating with the Headquarters' request for elite deployment, but the Seven Warlords of the Sea…"
"They're not cooperating?" Nao raised an eyebrow.
"…Yes."
Sengoku gave a bitter smile and nodded.
————————--
On Amazon Lily, in the Kuja Palace.
"The Marine Headquarters has issued the Seven Warlords summons?"
After listening to a middle-aged female warrior's report, Elder Nyon—who had just woken up and was washing up—jerked her head up in shock.
"Why now of all times?"
"Yes, Elder."
The middle-aged warrior looked miserable.
"What should we do? Because there's been no news about Mr. Nao in the papers for so long, Lady Snake Princess' mood has gotten worse and worse. These past two days have been the worst of all. If we bring this up to her now, I doubt she'll agree at all…"
"Be more confident—remove the 'I doubt' part."
Elder Nyon snorted, her expression darkening.
"That stubborn girl is hard enough to persuade on normal days, and now the Marines comes adding fuel to the fire…"
"But the Marine Headquarters already said that if Lady Hancock doesn't arrive on time, she'll be removed from the Seven Warlords and placed back on the wanted list."
Worry covered the warrior's face.
"If that happens… the safety of Amazon Lily will…"
If this were more than ten years ago, because Amazon Lily sits in the Calm Belt, this country of women wouldn't need to worry about the Marine at all.
But after the once-in-a-millennium genius Dr. Vegapunk invented the method of coating Marine ships' hulls with Seastone, the Calm Belt's natural barrier became useless against the Marine.
Now the only thing protecting Amazon Lily is the Empress' position among the Seven Warlords. If Hancock loses that because of her stubbornness, the country's future is easy to imagine.
"We can't expect much… but we still have to try."
After frowning for a long while, Elder Nyon finally sighed, grabbed her cane, and walked toward the door.
"Make sure to have a few people wait outside the palace windows. If the Snake Princess throws me out again, you must catch me. These old bones can't take too many more crashes…"
A few minutes later—
With a scream, Elder Nyon flew out of a window like a cut kite and landed in a haystack.
"Where are you all! Why did no one catch this old one again!"
…
Somewhere on the Grand Line, inside a gothic castle.
"The Seven Warlords summons?"
Hawk-Eyes Mihawk frowned, silent as he listened to the voice on the other end of the den den mushi.
"Yes, Mr. Mihawk."
The Headquarters Rear Admiral chose his words carefully.
"We understand your personality and that you don't like getting involved in such matters, but this time it's different. The situation is critical, and you must—"
"Has Mr. Nao returned to Headquarters?"
Mihawk asked coldly, cutting him off.
"Well… not yet, but—"
Before the officer finished, Mihawk hung up with a sharp click, shook his head, and walked out of the room.
"Boring."
Dim light spilled through the castle's window lattice, stretching the shadow of Mihawk's figure as he walked down the corridor with the black sword on his back.
A Marine Headquarters without Mr. Nao…
Was it even worthy of him traveling thousands of miles to risk his life for?