When they arrived at the scene, a wave of sheer panic and dread slammed into them like a tidal force, knocking the breath from their lungs. The tranquil island they had once known now lay in ruins, swallowed by a storm of chaos and fire.
The once-serene shores had transformed into a battlefield, an inferno lit beneath the open sky. Explosions thundered from every direction as cannonballs rained down with brutal precision, tearing into the earth and sky alike. The unmistakable banner of the enemy flapped in the wind above the attacking fleet, an ominous black flag etched with a skull they all knew too well.
The Jolly Roger of the Blackbeard Pirates.
"Teach…"
Smoke coiled thickly into the heavens, blending with the briny scent of the sea breeze, creating a dense, suffocating fog of destruction. Scattered debris from shattered homes and charred ships blanketed the beach like discarded memories. The harsh stench of burning timber and acrid gunpowder choked the air, drawing tears and tightening throats.
"Shit!" Marco hissed under his breath, his eyes narrowing as they swept across the nightmare unfolding before him. Every instinct screamed at him to act.
Within moments, the rest of the Whitebeard remnants had assembled, their movements sharp and urgent. Faces once calm were now etched with unease, bodies tense and ready for the clash ahead. Izo arrived in a rush, his usual poise rattled by the sudden violence.
"They came out of the fog and just started bombarding the island, Marco!" he reported, breathless and grim, urgency lacing every syllable.
"There's no way we can escape now!" Haruta exclaimed, panic evident in his voice as his hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his blade.
"This seems to be the moment we have been waiting for," Vista commented. Despite the chaos, his tone held a bizarre calm as he stepped forward, twirling his blade with elegant precision. He swung once, slicing a cannonball cleanly in midair, sending it arching away before it burst in a harmless explosion of sand and fire. "He even brought half the sea with him."
And Vista was right.
Behind the lead ship, a vast armada stretched across the water like a dark, unending fleet of nightmares. Every vessel bore the cursed flag of Teach and his growing legion. They sailed in a tight, merciless formation that spoke of confidence and overwhelming power. It felt as though the ocean itself had turned against them.
Then something colossal stirred within the waves.
A monstrous silhouette lifted from the ocean, rising like a titan from the depths. A giant, so massive he dwarfed even the largest ships, trudged through the water as though it were nothing more than shallow puddles. Waves crashed violently around him, spraying the air with foam and salt. Each thunderous step he took made the earth quake beneath the defenders' feet.
One of the infamous monsters Teach had unleashed from Impel Down.
"He is walking… he is actually walking through the sea," someone choked out, their voice cracking with horror. Even with half of his body submerged, the giant radiated pure intimidation. His towering form blotted out the moonlight, casting a monstrous shadow across the battlefield.
"This… this is unbelievably bad," another crewmate whispered, their voice trembling. "We are completely outmatched."
"Damn those filthy traitors. Those bastards caught us off guard!" someone roared, their anger barely holding back the trembling fear beneath.
Marco clicked his tongue sharply, his expression darkening. "I didn't think he'd have the balls to come himself," he muttered, voice low and edged with rising anger. His mind worked quickly, trying to piece together a defense, even as chaos swallowed their surroundings.
Ace stood motionless beside him, every muscle coiled and rigid with tension. His fists clenched so tight that the skin over his knuckles had turned bloodless and pale. His face, shadowed by the flickering flames, was a portrait of seething fury.
He growled a single word, low and venomous, like a curse spat into the wind.
"Teach!"
There was no turning back now.
The enemy vessels dropped anchor in the shallows, and one by one, the invaders began pouring onto the island. Grinning faces, weapons gleaming with malice, boots thudding heavily against the sand as Blackbeard's pirates emerged like a flood of nightmares. Their sheer numbers were staggering, and their presence cast a long, menacing shadow over the defenders.
The battle was no longer looming.
It had arrived.
.
.
.
Later.
Two groups stood face to face, the air between them crackling with unspoken hostility and tension thick enough to choke on. It was clear at a glance that one side was significantly outnumbered. Yet, each warrior, regardless of their position or size, was armed with their weapon of choice, be it a gleaming sword, a loaded gun, or simply their own calloused fists ready to break bones.
The smaller force consisted of what remained of the once-mighty Whitebeard Pirates. At the forefront stood Marco the Phoenix, blue flames faintly pulsing around his body like a heartbeat of ethereal fire. He tried to maintain the calm dignity he had always carried, but even he could not fully mask the simmering fury in his expression. To his right and left stood Ace, Jozu, and Vista, each one bearing the weight of the losses they had endured. Behind them, the remnants of their crew straightened their spines and tightened their grips on their weapons. They were battered, grieving, and undeniably exhausted, yet their eyes glowed with an unbroken resolve that refused to bow.
Opposite them was Marshall D Teach, the man who had once been just another nameless crew member under Whitebeard's banner. Now he stood as an emperor of betrayal, shoulders squared and chin lifted with shameless arrogance. His mocking smirk stretched wider the longer he stared at Marco's group, as if seeing them still alive was a personal source of amusement. Behind him sprawled his massive army, an unsettling blend of criminals, pirates, killers, and infamous outcasts dredged up from every corner of the sea. Many were monstrous in physique, others deceptively human, but all shared the same wicked gleam in their eyes that came from pledging loyalty to a man like Teach.
He had gathered them quickly, faster than expected, almost as if the promise of carnage and stolen power had drawn them to him like moths to flame. And instead of avoiding direct conflict, Teach had taken the initiative to hunt them down. The moment he caught wind that the remnants of Whitebeard's crew were searching for him, he saw an opportunity. When he discovered the island they had chosen as temporary refuge, he did not hesitate. He brought his full force and unleashed hell with no warning.
Looking at Teach now, puffed up with bravado and dripping with smugness, the Whitebeard Pirates hadn't expected him to rally such a massive force in such a short time, or to drag the entire lot along for a single battle.
To say the odds were stacked against them was putting it mildly. The Whitebeard Pirates were at a distinct disadvantage in terms of numbers, and that fact alone spelled doom for most battles.
Ever since the death of their captain, the crew's strength had inevitably declined. Many who had joined only for fame, power, or the prestige of flying under his flag had long since deserted. Whitebeard never cared for superficial strength anyway. He welcomed anyone with a heart to call family, whether they were strong or weak, old or young.
What he had sought was a true family, not a mere collection of powerful individuals.
So to say that the current Whitebeard Pirates, even with the might of Ace, Marco, Jozu, and Vista at the helm, still could not hold a candle to their former glory, was no exaggeration.
Teach threw his head back and released a booming laugh that scraped against their nerves like grinding metal. "Zehahahahahahaha! My dear brothers! It has been far too long, hasn't it?"
Ace flared with instant fury, flames igniting up both arms until they danced like raging suns. "Shut your damn mouth! Do not call us brothers! You lost that right the moment you betrayed everything!"
Teach lazily waved a hand, his voice dripping with theatrical mockery. "Oh, don't be so touchy, Ace. We had such good times together back in the day, didn't we? Or wait—" His grin stretched wider, voice soaked in cruelty. "Wasn't the last time we saw each other when the old man kicked the bucket? Zehahahahahaha!"
His crew burst out laughing behind him, the sound like a pack of jackals howling over a carcass, gleefully mocking the memory of Whitebeard's death as if it were some sick inside joke.
Ace's flames flared brighter, the heat visibly rippling around his body. His jaw clenched so hard it was a miracle his teeth didn't shatter. Marco gently placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, though the fury blazing in his own eyes betrayed his thin restraint.
"You don't know how happy I am to see a few of you!" Blackbeard gloated.
His gaze locked onto them, and he grinned wider, his eyes glittering with greed when he spotted Ace, Marco, and Jozu together.
"Yes… those Devil Fruits will be mine," he murmured, unable to hide the twisted delight in his voice.
Marco glared at him with quiet venom. "Even hearing you call us brothers feels disgusting, yoi."
"Heh, come on now, Marco bro," Blackbeard said with a mockingly sentimental tone. "You and I, we go way back, didn't we? We've always been family… haven't we?" As if he had not betrayed every one of them for the sake of a single Devil Fruit.
Lafitte stepped forward gracefully, his elegant stride betraying none of the darkness in his eyes. "I believe it's pointless to have a conversation with them any longer, captain," he said smoothly.
His words sent a visible ripple of tension through the Whitebeard Pirates. Meanwhile, Blackbeard's crew erupted with raucous laughter and eager anticipation, the bloodlust in the air becoming nearly tangible.
Teach roared with manic energy. "Zehahahahaha! You are right! No need for more chit chat!" He thrust his arm upward and bellowed, "Attack!"
And then, all hell broke loose.
Ace reacted first, unleashing a colossal fireball that roared across the open field, engulfing the nearest enemies in a blazing inferno. The two sides collided like furious storms. The sound of clashing swords filled the air with metallic shrieks. Bullets whistled past. Bodies slammed against bodies. Explosions burst like violent flowers of smoke and shrapnel. Dirt flew. Blood sprayed. The ground shook beneath the sheer intensity of the combat.
For the Whitebeard Pirates, this battle was not just survival. It was vengeance. It was the final fight to honor the man they had called father, even if it meant never seeing another dawn.
Win or lose, life and death... None of it mattered anymore!
When they saw Blackbeard fleeing to the backline, sheltering himself behind his own crew like a coward hiding behind shields, Ace and Marco exchanged a single look. Without speaking, they rocketed upward, flames and blue fire cutting through the sky as they flew straight toward their target.
Blackbeard.
Ace surged forward like a comet, fire trailing in his wake, while Marco's brilliant phoenix wings cut through the smoke like blades of divine light.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates fought with unyielding resolve, refusing to back down despite being heavily outnumbered. Each of them was determined to take down as many enemies as they could, even if it meant falling in the process.
Vista was currently locked in combat with Shiryu, their swords clashing violently in a dazzling display of skill and strength. The sharp ring of steel against steel echoed like thunder, the sheer force of their strikes shaking the air around them.
"A traitor like you... is the kind I despise the most," Vista growled after forcing Shiryu back with a powerful swing of raw, brute strength.
Shiryu scoffed and leapt backward, widening the distance between them. "How sentimental," he sneered with a condescending smirk tugging at his lips.
Not far from their fierce duel, Jozu was exchanging bone-crushing punches with Jesus Burgess, their titanic blows sending shockwaves through the battlefield. A gunman from Blackbeard's crew raised his rifle and aimed at Jozu's blind spot—only for a gunshot to crack through the air. The attacker dropped instantly, a bullet lodged cleanly in his skull. Izo, calm and focused, lowered his smoking gun.
"Thanks, Izo," Jozu grunted, not pausing for even a breath between punches.
"I've got your back," Izo replied coolly as he reloaded, firing another precise shot at an enemy attempting a sneak attack. As the designated long-range specialist, his job was to guard the exposed backs of his comrades, and he carried that duty with unwavering precision.
With a quick sweep of their surroundings and seeing that the others were holding their own for now, Ace and Marco made their move. Their eyes locked on Blackbeard, who stood eerily still with his arms crossed as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.
"Be careful, Marco," Ace warned in a low voice. "If he touches you, your Devil Fruit powers will be completely nullified."
"I know," Marco answered grimly.
"Zehahahahahaha! You think knowing what I can do will change anything?" Blackbeard roared with mocking laughter, clearly amused by their whispered strategy. "It's not about what you know! It's about whether or not you have the strength to actually defeat me!"
Ace and Marco said nothing in response. They simply stopped a few meters away from him, maintaining their composure with an eerie calm.
"Zehahahahaha! With the two of you here, I won't even have to waste time hunting you down!" Blackbeard grinned with malevolent glee.
He couldn't have that old man's Devil Fruit, that was fine! He could have these two's Devil Fruits instead!
He still couldn't forget about what that darn woman had done! It was all because of that darn bitch! Looking at Ace, his hatred surged again. This time, he would have his revenge.
"Teach! Today will be the day that you will die!" Ace yelled out, both of his fists were covered in flame as he glared at the man. Eager he may be to kill this bastard, he was also calm enough to not charge forward without any plans. Having experienced what the bastard could do, Ace was well aware that mere flashy movements were not necessarily needed to beat him.
Marco stood beside him, cloaked in ethereal blue fire. His wings flickered with radiant heat, their glow illuminating his hardened expression. The man standing before them was not just a former crewmate, but someone Marco had once embraced as family for countless years. Together, they had sailed under Whitebeard's flag, shared laughter and battles, bled on the same decks, and forged what should have been an unbreakable brotherhood.
Yet Teach had thrown all of that away as if it had meant nothing.
This was the man who had caused the death of the father they all cherished. This was the man who had butchered a comrade in cold blood for the sake of a single Devil Fruit, and who had delivered another into the hands of executioners without a shred of remorse. Everything he had ever done was for power.
Truly, he was a heartless bastard.
Marco clenched his teeth, fury burning beneath his calm stoicism. Whether he survived this battle or perished right here no longer mattered. What mattered was dragging Teach down with him, dragging him to the very threshold of hell and forcing him to answer for every unforgivable sin before Whitebeard.
"Your tyranny ends here, Teach," Marco declared coldly.
"We'll see about that," Blackbeard snarled. He planted his feet wide for balance, then slammed both palms against the trembling ground.