The sky above Marineford vanished, replaced entirely by a blinding, apocalyptic sphere of golden light.
Light Yagami surged directly into the blinding light.
He propelled his body at a maneuver that defied comprehension. He twisted through the golden light, his pitch-black, obsidian saber raised.
Sengoku's eyes widened in shock as the False Deity materialized directly in front of his face, entirely unscathed by the blast.
"Sengoku!" Light's voice pierced the deafening roar of the explosion.
'I must succeed!'
Light channeled the absolute maximum output of his Internal Destruction Haki into the flat of his blade. He didn't aim to cut. He aimed to displace. He swung his saber like a baseball bat, slamming the flat of the dark steel directly into the center of the Buddha's massive, glowing chest.
KRA-KOOOOOOOM!
The impact was cataclysmic. Light engaged his Force Authority at the exact moment of connection, compounding the kinetic recoil of Sengoku's own shockwave with his own hyper-dense strike.
SLASH-KA-BOOOOOM!
"GAAAHHH-!"
Sengoku the Buddha let out a booming gasp of agony. The sheer, impossible force of the blow lifted the colossal Fleet Admiral off his invisible Geppo footing.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
He was blasted backward out of the sky for more than just a kilometre.
To the pirates on ground, it was like watching a shooting star pass by.
Sengoku plummeted toward the earth like a falling golden star, trailing a comet-tail of blood and dissipating Haki.
CRASHHHHH!
He crashed violently into the ruined, tilted plaza of Marineford, tearing a massive trench through the bedrock before finally slamming into the colossal, fallen debris of the Marine Headquarters building.
The thousand-ton boulders shifted, collapsing over the Fleet Admiral, temporarily pinning the supreme commander of the Navy under a mountain of his own shattered fortress.
He had put everything he had for that attack. Light floated alone in the clear, empty sky. He exhaled frantically, lowering his saber. Fortunately, it connected.
"HA... HA..HA..."
'Not... alert enough! Sengoku!'
Light had already seen it.
An end he did not want.
So he would fix it.
[Meanwhile, a few dozen seconds ago: ]
"GRRRAH!"
Down on the frozen, blood-stained permafrost, a completely different kind of monster was clawing his way back to the surface.
Deep within the bottomless, black chasm that Whitebeard had carved into the island, the darkness was violently giving way to a bubbling, terrifying red glow. The bedrock of the cliff face actively melted into slag, dripping into the churning ocean below with a furious hiss.
GRAB!
A hand, composed entirely of dripping, white-hot magma, slammed onto the edge of the abyss.
Admiral Akainu hauled himself out of hell.
The Red Dog was a horrific sight. His crisp, crimson suit was entirely incinerated. The left side of his ribs was visibly caved in—a devastating testament to the point-blank quake-punch Whitebeard had buried him with. He was coughing up thick globs of blood, his breathing a wet, ragged rattle.
"HA... HA... "
But his eyes… his eyes were the eyes of a fanatic who had entirely severed his tether to his own humanity.
Akainu dragged himself onto the tilted ice, his magma violently bubbling and churning to cauterize his own catastrophic internal injuries. He looked across the shattered plaza.
Fifty yards away, Admiral Aokiji was locked in a brutal, desperate melee with an almost dead Edward Newgate.
'Whitebeard...', he thought.
Give it a couple of minutes and he would die a natural death.
'That won't do!'
Aokiji was avoiding the lethal arcs of the supreme grade blade, constantly firing Ice Block: Partisan spears to force Whitebeard to exert his Haki to shatter them. Aokiji's face was bruised, a trickle of blood frozen to his cheek, but his focus was absolute.
The pirate was dying, but he was like an undead. Even when he smelt off the guy's kidney he only laughed Gurarara and had punched him into the underground.
They both knew how this would end but...
Akainu felt a surge of unadulterated, volcanic hatred boil up in his throat.
"NEWGATEEE!" Akainu's roar tore through the freezing air, a demonic, gargling sound of pure malice.
Whitebeard, currently locked in a brief clash of strength with Aokiji's Ice Gloves, heard the roar. The Emperor's golden eyes flicked toward the edge of the chasm.
"Gurararara! Back already?"
Akainu erupted. He transformed his entire lower half into a surging river of molten rock, propelling his broken body forward with suicidal speed. His right arm expanded, the magma densifying and superheating until it glowed with a terrifying, blinding white radiance.
Aokiji, seeing his colleague's relentless charge, instantly understood the assignment.
The ice-man retreated. He completely abandoned his own defense to create the perfect, inescapable opening. Aokiji slammed his hands onto the ice directly beneath Whitebeard's feet.
"Ice Age!"
The permafrost violently surged upward. It didn't just freeze the ground; it rapidly climbed the Emperor's massive legs, encasing Whitebeard's boots, calves, and knees in a hyper-dense, unbreakable block of sub-zero ice.
Simultaneously, Aokiji lunged forward, grabbing the thick shaft of the bisento with both hands, using every ounce of his remaining strength and Devil Fruit power to freeze the weapon in place.
'This is it...?'
Whitebeard was anchored. He couldn't step back. He couldn't swing his blade.
"GO TO HELL, YOU WRETCHED RELIC!" Akainu screamed, his face twisted in a mask of absolute, hateful triumph.
"MEIGO! (Dark Dog!)"
Akainu thrust his white-hot, magma-infused fist directly toward the center of Whitebeard's skull.
Time seemed to slow to an agonizing, microscopic crawl.
From a distance, the retreating Whitebeard Pirates, having paused at the edge of the bay to look back, watched the red comet descend upon their immobilized father.
"POPS!" Marco shrieked, his voice tearing completely.
Whitebeard did not close his eyes. He did not flinch away.
The World's Strongest Man looked directly into the blinding, molten heat of the Admiral's fist. His expression was not one of fear, nor was it one of defeat. It was an expression of absolute, terrifying calm.
THWACK!
The sound of the impact was dull, heavy, and sickeningly wet.
Akainu's Meigo connected.
The apocalyptic heat of the magma did not simply burn; it annihilated. The blindingly hot volcanic rock struck the left side of Edward Newgate's face with cataclysmic force.
TSSSSSSSS!
The Emperor's iconic, crescent-shaped white mustache instantly caught fire and turned to ash. The flesh of his cheek, his jaw, and his temple boiled and vaporized in a fraction of a second. The molten rock bored inward, violently searing the bone of his skull, melting his left eye entirely within its socket.
A third of the Emperor's head was simply erased, replaced by a smoking, cauterized ruin of blackened bone and boiling blood.
Any other man—any other creature on the face of the planet—would have died instantly. The central nervous system would have collapsed. The body would have gone limp, crumpling to the ice as a lifeless husk.
Suddenly.
Through the blinding, unimaginable agony of having half his head melted away, Whitebeard's remaining right eye widened, burning with the wrath of a besieged god.
"Light candles... on birthdays, magma-brat!" Whitebeard's voice was a horrific, distorted rasp, echoing through the smoking ruin of his own throat.
"Gurara..."
Akainu's eyes widened in profound, absolute terror.
"...raraRA..." His fist was still buried in the smoking crater of the face.
"...RARARARARA!!!!!!!"
The Emperor violently ripped his bisento free from Aokiji's icy grip, shattering the ice-man's hold with pure, unadulterated brute strength. But Whitebeard didn't aim the weapon at Akainu.
"Ara... ar-"
"... what the fuck old man!"
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!
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A/N: I'm supposed to grind DSA y'all i wanna kms.