Escape, Unload, Arrangements

"We put on these uniforms and carry this flag not to look impressive, but to shoulder responsibility! We lost plenty of men today, and plenty were wounded, but those Whitebeard bastards didn't get off easy either! We hurt them! We scared them! The whole world has its eyes open and watching! The Marines didn't cower! Our bones are still hard!"

Garp bent down and picked up a filthy military cap from the bloodstained ice at his feet. It was torn in several places and soaked through with blood.

He smoothed it out roughly with his palm, then placed it squarely on his head and stood straight.

"The battle is over. Those who needed to cry have cried. Now straighten your backs."

His booming voice echoed through the bay. "Brothers who survived, remember this day. Remember this humiliation. Remember this fire in your hearts! Those who didn't fall today must stand even taller tomorrow."

He let out one final roar. "Now, we will send off our fallen brothers with dignity! And we will save every one of those still breathing!"

At first, there were only a few scattered, choked responses. "Yes!"

But soon, voices rose from every direction, growing louder and more unified.

"Get moving!"

"Don't just stand there! Count the men! Identify our brothers!"

"Medical teams! Where the hell are the medical teams?! Save the wounded!"

At last, this deathly silent ruin regained a faint trace of life.

Garp watched it all, but the heavy stone in his heart did not lighten in the slightest.

A sea breeze swept through, blowing off the bloodstained cap he had just put on. It rolled across the ice.

He looked up at the gray, gloomy sky.

The wind at sea really was... getting stranger and stranger.

Meanwhile, on the beach of an uninhabited