The laughter lingered.
It no longer tore through the island the way it had when he first arrived, but it hadn't disappeared either. It clung to the air, softer now, as if it had settled into the space itself.
He bounced again.
The ground bent beneath his feet and pushed back, lifting him slightly before setting him down with a gentle recoil. The motion didn't feel strange anymore. If anything, it felt natural—like his body had already accepted it as the correct way to exist.
Another bounce followed.
A little higher this time.
"…okay…"
His voice came out uneven, his breath still catching as he raised a hand to his face again. His fingers brushed across his cheek, pressing lightly.
It gave.
Not resisting. Not holding its shape the way it should have.
Still wrong.
Still real.
He exhaled slowly, then again, forcing himself to settle as the laughter faded into something quieter.
Thought pushed through.
"…what just happened…"
He bounced again, less intentionally now, the motion continuing beneath him as his attention shifted outward.
God Valley.
The name settled properly this time.
He looked around.
The battlefield hadn't changed. Smoke drifted upward from shattered structures, curling into the fractured sky. Bodies lay scattered across uneven ground. Marines and pirates remained spread across the island, weapons still in hand.
And yet—
something felt off.
He landed again, the ground dipping beneath him before lifting him back up.
"…this is it?"
His eyes moved across the battlefield more carefully now, taking in the scattered movement—the hesitation, the distance people were keeping without realizing it.
"…wasn't this supposed to be bigger?"
His brow furrowed slightly.
He remembered what he had expected—what he had imagined. Legends. Chaos on a scale that didn't make sense. Monsters clashing without restraint, the kind of battlefield that reshaped the world itself.
This—
felt smaller.
Quieter.
Held back.
An explosion rolled across the island.
He turned toward it instinctively.
The sound reached him strangely, stretched and dulled, as if it had been pushed further away before arriving.
Another followed in the distance.
Gunfire echoed after it.
That was how it was supposed to sound.
His gaze lingered there for a moment.
Then shifted back.
Back to the people around him.
Marines.
Pirates.
All of them watching him.
Not fighting.
Not advancing.
Just… holding.
"…huh."
Another bounce lifted him slightly.
"…why did everyone stop?"
No one answered.
A Marine tightened his grip on his rifle, knuckles whitening as he forced himself not to lower it. Another swallowed hard, taking a half-step forward before stopping himself. One man's weapon slipped entirely from his grasp, hitting the ground with a dull clatter that sounded far too loud in the tension.
A pirate closer to the edge of the battlefield muttered under his breath, voice tight.
"What the hell is that…"
"That's not any Devil Fruit…"
"They're trying to contact the Gorosei—nothing's going through…"
"Hold the line—don't break formation!"
The order came out strained, louder than it needed to be, as if saying it louder would make it true.
They didn't understand what they were looking at.
But they were trying.
Trying not to move.
Trying not to run.
"…oh."
He bounced again, slightly higher.
"They're waiting…"
The realization settled in.
His grin returned.
"For me."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA—"
He landed again, the ground bending deeper beneath him before snapping back outward, sending a ripple through the terrain. A Marine lost his balance entirely this time, falling backward as the ground shifted beneath him, while another had to brace himself with both hands just to stay upright.
Nothing was stopping him.
Not the ground.
Not the air.
Not even the space between things.
His fingers spread slightly, as if feeling something invisible again.
"This…"
He breathed it out slowly, steadier now.
"…this is what freedom feels like."
Another bounce lifted him.
His grin widened further.
"I can do what I always dreamed of…"
He paused for half a second, eyes drifting across the battlefield again.
"…nothing is stopping me."
The words settled differently.
Heavier.
Truer.
"Welp…"
His stance shifted slightly, the bouncing beneath him no longer uncontrolled, but not fully gone either—just guided.
"…let's see what I can do."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then—
someone fired.
The shot cut cleanly through the air toward him.
He didn't move.
It hit.
Or should have.
The bullet flattened slightly against his face, his cheek pushing inward before snapping back as the bullet deflected away at an impossible angle.
He blinked.
Then slowly pulled a face at the Marine.
"…really?"
Another shot followed.
Then several more.
Each one reacted the same way—bending, flattening, bouncing off him like they weren't sure what they had hit.
A Marine hesitated mid-reload.
Another took a step back despite himself.
A third tried to shout another order—but his voice caught before it came out.
His grin widened.
"HAHA—"
"…okay…"
His hand came up in front of him, fingers spreading as he looked at it with growing interest.
"…let's try something…"
He flexed it once.
Nothing happened.
"…huh."
He pushed something into it again.
His arm stretched slightly.
Then snapped back.
"…no, that's not it…"
The Marines held their ground—but barely.
"Keep firing!"
"Don't let him move!"
The command lacked conviction.
"…think…"
His grin widened again.
"Oh—"
He grabbed his arm near the wrist with his other hand and, without hesitation—
blew into it.
Air rushed in.
His arm expanded.
Not smoothly.
Not evenly.
Wrong.
It swelled outward, exaggerated, uneven, far larger than it should have been.
Several Marines flinched.
One took a full step back before catching himself.
Another simply froze.
"…what the hell—"
His eyes lit up.
"HAHA—okay—"
He glanced at it briefly, clearly pleased.
"…I should name this…"
The Marine formation in front of him wavered—not breaking, but close. Some stepped back. Others froze completely. One man lowered his weapon without realizing it.
He saw it.
And his grin widened.
"…right—"
"Gum-Gum…"
He pulled his arm back.
"…Big—"
The ground beneath his feet dipped, tension building beneath him as the surface compressed unnaturally.
"…fucking—"
The line broke.
"…HAND!"
He swung.
The arm didn't move normally—it stretched further, and further, the already oversized limb expanding again mid-motion into a massive, uneven shape that blotted out everything in front of him. The air warped around it, the sheer scale turning the motion into something closer to a collapsing wall than a punch.
It wasn't aimed at one person.
It was aimed at all of them.
"MOVE—!"
Too late.
The fist hit.
The ground compressed first—deep and violently—before everything snapped back at once. The impact folded into the island itself and rebounded outward, the terrain bending unnaturally before surging back with force that tore through the battlefield.
The island bounced.
The ground rippled outward in a wide elastic wave, launching Marines off their feet as if gravity had been briefly removed. Bodies were thrown upward and outward, some crashing back down, others skipping across the ground. Weapons scattered. Commands broke apart mid-shout.
A second rebound followed—smaller, but enough to finish breaking what little structure remained.
The ground settled, still shifting faintly beneath everything.
Where the strike had landed, the earth dipped unnaturally before slowly pushing itself back into place.
No one spoke.
A rifle slipped from trembling fingers and hit the ground with a soft, final clatter.
For a moment—
no one even moved.
Then—
"HAHAHAHAHAHA—"