Countdown
Marineford, Marine Headquarters.
The light in the Fleet Admiral's Office never went out that night.
Sengoku sat behind his desk with a Den Den Mushi) record sheet spread out in front of him. The sheet contained intelligence briefings compiled from various naval divisions over the past three hours.
The content is quite varied.
The East Blue branch reported a fourfold increase in the number of civilian gatherings, with the central issue being the Ohara Incident exposed by the Sky Screen.
The South Blue Division reported that at least three Affiliated Nation within its jurisdiction that have voting rights in the Reverie submitted letters of inquiry to the naval embassy, questioning the historical legitimacy of the World Government.
Reports indicate that pirate activity on several major islands in the first half of the Grand Line has increased by 30%, but conflicts between pirates have actually decreased.
They no longer attack each other.
They are waiting.
Stay tuned for the next roundup from Sky Screen.
Sengoku pressed his finger against the edge of the recording paper, leaving a faint fingerprint on the surface.
Staff Officer Tsuru stood to the side of the desk, holding a cup of tea that had been steeping for a long time; the tea was so dark it could be used as ink.
"What's on your mind."
The Sengoku did not see a rise in prominence.
"I wonder if the Den Den Mushi in this office will all ring at the same time when the list of the Twenty Kingdoms Alliance is announced seventeen hours from now."
"It definitely will."
He placed the teacup in the corner of the table.
"It won't just be the Den Den Mushi that rings then."
"The entire naval belief system will resonate."
Sengoku's fingers left the notepad. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a spot on the office ceiling.
"Crane."
"Um."
Do you think Aokiji will come back?
The crane remained silent for four seconds.
Kuzan left without taking any personal belongings.
The coat is still in the closet, and the sleep mask is still hanging on the headboard of the bed in the dorm.
He will come back.
"But I'm not sure if he'll still be wearing his navy coat when he comes back."
Sengoku closed his eyes briefly.
You mean he might resign?
"I mean, he might do something even worse than resigning."
Crane's voice was devoid of any emotion, but what she said made Sengoku's fingers tighten slightly on the armrest.
For example.
"For example, after the list was announced by Sky Screen, they stepped forward and made a public statement."
What stance should be taken?
"The Navy should not continue to serve a regime built on genocide."
The air in the office seemed to thicken after that sentence.
The fingernails of the Sengoku embedded themselves in the wood of the armrest, leaving several shallow, curved marks.
"He dares."
"He is Kuzan."
Crane's fingers twirled the teacup on the corner of the table.
He's capable of anything.
"Especially after he saw the images of Ohara with his own eyes."
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, their rhythm rapid, like those of a forced march.
There was a knock on the door three times.
"Your Fleet Admiral."
The voice outside the door belonged to the communications soldier.
"Admiral Akainu requests an audience."
Sengoku's fingers loosened their grip on the armrest.
He and the crane exchanged a glance.
"Let him in."
The door opened.
Akainu walked in differently than usual. Normally, he walks with long strides, each step covering about 1.3 times the distance of an average person. But today, his strides were shorter, with a slight pause between each step, as if he were controlling something.
His arms were exposed outside his sleeves, and the brand on his arms glowed a faint dark red under the office lights. It was the "Slaughterer's Fire" mark applied by the Sky Screen, and an extremely faint sense of burning permeated the surrounding air.
The communications soldier, walking three steps behind him, unconsciously shrank back, an instinctive reaction to the fear and despair carried by the mark.
Akainu stopped two steps away from the desk.
"Sengoku"
"Sit."
"I'm not sitting here anymore."
Akainu's voice came from deep in his throat, and it was rougher than usual, as if his throat had been worn down by something.
I have a question for you.
Sengoku remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"Did you know beforehand that the list of names Sky Screen would be announcing next?"
"What's the meaning."
"The Twenty Kingdoms Alliance"
Akainu clenched his fist and then released it, the mark on his arm glowing a deeper dark red during the movement.
"Twenty kingdoms that will establish World Government."
"Before establishing World Government, they joined forces to destroy a civilization."
"Were you informed of this before you became Fleet Admiral?"
Sengoku's palm rested flat on the table.
"I know part of it."
Which part?
"Knowing that the Void Century exists and its research is prohibited, and knowing that the establishment of World Government involves joint action by multiple countries."
"But we didn't know that the nature of that action was genocide."
Akainu stared at Sengoku's face for three seconds.
You are telling me the truth.
"Yes."
What about the Five Elders?
"They know everything."
Akainu clenched his teeth, and the outline of his masseter muscles bulged beneath the skin of his lower jaw.
"I have upheld justice my whole life; the word 'justice' is written on that flag."
His voice lowered, so low that even the fingers holding the teacup tightened slightly.
"If that flag is built on a war of genocide."
"Then what about all the justice I've upheld in my life?"
No one in the office answered the question.
Because no one can answer that.
Akainu stood there, the dark red of the mark on his arm slowly fading back to its original intensity, and his breathing rate dropped from nineteen breaths per minute to sixteen.
"I didn't come here to argue with you."
He spoke, his voice regaining some of its usual rough texture.
"I'm here to ask you, what will the Navy do after the list is released?"
Sengoku's finger moved slightly on the table.
"I have no idea."
"You are the Fleet Admiral."
"Even Fleet Admiral doesn't know everything."
The Sengoku raised his head.
But there's one thing I can tell you.
"The Sky Screen has changed so much. Whitebeard has returned to his peak, Blackbeard has been crippled, Dragon's strength has been revealed, and the power structure of the Four Emperors is being reshaped."
"After the list was released, the Navy faced not only a public opinion crisis, but also a chain reaction at the military level."
"If countries begin to question the legitimacy of the World Government, the membership system will crumble."
"With the alliance system loosening, the Navy's funding, supplies, and manpower will all be affected."
"At that point, the Navy will need to make a choice."
Akainu looked at Sengoku.
"What choice?"
"It's about continuing to be the sword of the World Government."
The Sengoku period paused for a beat.
"Or let it become the Navy's own sword."
Akainu's pupils contracted slightly after those words.
He didn't speak immediately.
The silence in the office lasted for about seven seconds.
Then Akainu turned around and walked towards the door.
His hand paused for a moment when it touched the doorknob.
"If that day comes."
He didn't turn around.
I will do what I believe is right.
"Regardless of what's written on that flag."
The door closed.
The footsteps faded into the distance in the corridor, the pauses between each step shorter than when they entered.
Crane stood still for five seconds, holding the cup of tea that had turned the color of ink.
He's wavering.
"No."
Sengoku drew a line on the table with his finger.
He never wavered.
He has always done what he believes is right.
"It's just that what he believed to be right previously overlapped with the World Government's orders."
"They no longer overlap."
The countdown numbers on the Sky Screen shone through the office window onto the desk, the golden light blending with the warm yellow of the lamplight, casting a blurry shadow on the surface of the recording paper.
Sixteen hours and five minutes.