Loguetown Stronghold

Inside the submarine's captain's cabin, the lights were dim.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Dawn sat before the porthole, holding a glass of red wine. The liquid swayed gently within the glass, reflecting the glowing fish drifting through the deep sea outside.

Just yesterday, news of Fleet Admiral Kong's "death from illness" had spread across the world. Compared to being killed by a powerful enemy, headquarters had chosen the more dignified explanation. The world needed stability, the Marines needed morale, and the truth was sometimes too heavy.

The figure by the bed paused slightly. Gion grabbed her Justice coat, covering the skin exposed to the air.

"I can't completely cut myself off. Even knowing the World Government's darkness, even seeing what those high-and-mighty Celestial Dragons are truly like... I didn't put on this uniform just for them."

"There are still countless people in the Marines like me. They believe in justice and are willing to give their lives for it. If even we leave, then the Marines will truly be nothing but the Celestial Dragons' lapdogs."

Dawn set down his wineglass, rose, and walked to the bedside. He reached out and gently stroked Gion's cheek. The gesture was so tender that she nearly abandoned the thought of leaving.

Gion closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his palm.

"I won't stop you. But remember, be careful in everything."

The next morning, on a secluded coast somewhere in East Blue.

Gion boarded the ship returning to Marineford alone. She did not look back. The sea breeze lifted her long hair, and her Justice coat snapped behind her.

Dawn stood on the shore, watching the ship vanish beyond the horizon. His face showed no expression, save for the complicated emotion that flickered through his eyes.

Several more days passed. While undercurrents still churned