Biscuit Army, Charge! On to the Sabaody Archipelago!

A secret hospital.

The smell of disinfectant mingled with blood and medicine, hanging heavy in the cramped room.

A thick lead door shut out the outside world—and any hope with it.

The last pillars of the Marines were being treated here, but defeat had left the place steeped in despair.

Akainu Sakazuki slammed a fist onto the metal table. IV bottles rattled, and hot magma seeped through the bandages around his fingers, scorching the specially made surface with a hiss.

"Enough! How long are we going to hide here and nurse our wounds?!"

He growled, veins bulging at his temples. Beneath the bandages on his chest, the charred scar left by Divine Punishment ran deep enough to expose bone. It throbbed faintly, and every breath seared his pride.

"We have to strike first! Gather everyone who can still breathe, find that bastard, and wipe him out before he overturns everything! Now!"

His bandaged fist trembled with the force of his grip. Defiance burned in his eyes, but cold reality made his resolve seem feeble.

"Strike first?"

Kuzan leaned against the cold wall, wrapped in bandages from head to toe and radiating a chill. He raised his head, his one visible eye weary but sharp beneath his eye mask.

He slowly lifted a hand. Rather than point at Sakazuki's face, he aimed straight at the hideous scar on his chest. "Sakazuki, look at yourself. Look at that scar. Then look at us."

His gaze swept over the silent Garp, the half-reclining Kizaru, and the many more gravely wounded men lying in hospital beds.

"That mark came from a casual strike by the Fifth Emperor. Strike first? With what? The likes of us, who can barely get out of bed?"

Kuzan could not hide the defeat in his voice. "Unless we can