The figure slowly turned around, moonlight illuminating his wrinkled yet still rugged face. It was Garp.
He was not wearing his signature Justice Cloak, only a simple black suit, yet he seemed more weighed down than ever.
"You're here." Garp's voice was hoarse, betraying neither joy nor anger.
Lorne walked up to the broken wall and met his eyes. The lingering scent of blood and gunsmoke on him spread through the cool moonlight.
"You were waiting for me." Lorne's tone was calm, as though stating a fact.
"Waiting for you to tear Marineford down to the last brick, you little bastard." Garp snorted and jumped down from the broken wall, rubble crunching beneath his feet. "Had enough fighting? Enjoyed all that killing?"
Lorne did not answer. His gaze passed over Garp's shoulder toward the distant bodies, some covered with white cloth, others not yet covered. Marines, Pirates, and Holy Knights lay together in a bleak expanse of gray and white beneath the moonlight.
"This wasn't what I wanted." Lorne withdrew his gaze, his voice low. "But it was necessary."
"Necessary?" Garp's voice suddenly rose. He seized Lorne by the collar, suppressed fury burning in his fierce eyes. "You call this necessary? Look around you! This is Marine Headquarters! A place countless officers and soldiers gave their lives to protect! And now? It's a pile of rubble! You even killed Celestial Dragons! Do you know what that means?"
Lorne did not resist, allowing Garp to hold him. He could feel the old man's hand trembling with anger, disappointment, and, above all, anguish.
"I know," Lorne said slowly. "I know everything I've done is an unforgivable crime in your eyes and Fleet Admiral Sengoku's. But Mr. Garp, I want to ask you something."
He raised his hand and pointed to the distant