Rocks still did not turn around. His waving arm stopped in midair, and his hand slowly closed, his thumb and forefinger lightly touching to form a circle.
His other three fingers extended loosely into the air, making an "OK" gesture.
Tears and snot had long since covered Loki's entire face. He wore a brilliant smile as tears kept flowing out from beneath his bandages and rolling down his cheeks.
Only this time... it was not from sadness, but happiness.
His gaze followed those retreating figures, as though he were using his eyes to carve that grayish-white scene into his mind.
He looked forward to that day arriving as promised.
He looked forward to becoming a member of the Rocks Pirates.
He looked forward to standing beside those figures, becoming one of them, and then helping Rocks ascend that highest throne with his own hands.
Ahead, amid the gray haze, the figures of Rocks, Ron, Whitebeard, and Linlin grew more and more distant.
The lingering light of the Underworld traced their figures in hazy outlines, as though they were walking into an unfinished painting.
Loki vigorously wiped the wet trails from his cheeks. He stared ahead, his gaze settling on those figures walking almost abreast. "Someday, there'll be a place for me there, right? I'll wait for you, 'King of the World.'"
At a harbor on an island in the New World.
Sunlight spread across the harbor's stone paving, stretching the shadows of the moored ships and passing pedestrians.
The Kuja Pirates' ship had only just entered the harbor when those on deck noticed something was wrong.
There were far too many pirate ships moored in the harbor. Pirate flags of all sizes fluttered from the masts, as though someone had thrown together a pirate gathering here.
Normally, unless a