Capítulo 125: Chapter 125: A Choice!
The Shichibukai knelt, their resistance shattered in an instant.
They were utterly unprepared—seven streaks of red Conqueror's lightning descended without warning, leaving no room for reaction. The abrupt appearance of their target in the very meeting convened to discuss capturing him left everyone stunned.
A collective thud echoed as they fell to their knees.
Hawkeye Mihawk was the first to break free, his eyes narrowing with solemn resolve as he rose to his feet.
"I'm impressed by how far you've come, Hawkeye," Edie said, a faint smile gracing his face.
Maintaining the pressure of Conqueror's Haki on seven formidable foes simultaneously had pushed even Edie to his limits. Shortly after Hawkeye, Doflamingo and Crocodile also stood, regaining composure.
"Fufufufu… You never cease to surprise me, Doctor," Doflamingo sneered, feigning hostility. His grin masked the unease that coiled in his chest.
From the doorway, Fleet Admiral Sengoku observed the unfolding scene, his unease palpable.
Edie's appearance in the heart of Marineford—the nerve center of the Marines—was audacious and unnerving. His arrival in the conference room where the Shichibukai and Vice Admirals gathered sent ripples of tension through the air.
"I just heard that you Marines are looking for me," Edie said, his voice laced with amusement as he strolled into the room. His relaxed demeanor contrasted sharply with the palpable unease of everyone else present. "So, I decided to stop by and satisfy your curiosity."
Sengoku's frown deepened into a glare. The very sight of Edie, the man who had destroyed Mariejois and openly defied the World Government, standing here without a shred of fear, set his teeth on edge.
"You who destroyed Mariejois and show up here openly—don't think you'll leave easily!" Sengoku's voice carried authority, but there was an edge of frustration.
In an instant, the Vice Admirals surrounding the room drew their weapons. The tension in the air thickened as Edie found himself encircled by ten battle-hardened Marines, their resolve visible in their postures.
The Shichibukai shifted uncomfortably. Crocodile retreated to a safer distance, his features unreadable, while Mihawk's piercing eyes studied Edie with detached curiosity.
Doflamingo, however, grinned, his trademark laugh echoing in the tense room. "Fufufufu... Did you really come alone?" His tone carried both mockery and intrigue. "Knowing you, there's no way you'd waltz in here without some kind of trick up your sleeve."
Sengoku was about to give the order to apprehend Edie, but Vice Admiral Tsuru, ever the voice of reason, interrupted. She leaned forward, clasping her hands, her eyes fixed on Edie.
"Wait a moment, Sengoku," she said calmly. "Let's hear what he has to say first."
Sengoku hesitated, glancing at Tsuru. Her wisdom had guided him through countless crises, and he grudgingly deferred to her judgment. With a deep breath, he addressed Edie.
"Speak. What do you want to say?"
Edie's lips curled into a sly smile. "Oh, it's quite confusing, isn't it, Sengoku? On one hand, you're here to capture me because of the Five Elders' orders. On the other, you're clearly curious about my little visit." His tone was light, but every word dripped with derision. "It's almost as if you're all puppets in a comedy show."
"Enough!" Sengoku's fist slammed onto the table. "If all you're here for is to mock us, there's nothing left to discuss."
Edie raised a hand, silencing the room with a simple gesture. "Mock you? I'm just reminding you of your history. Let me refresh your memory."
The atmosphere in the room shifted as Edie began recounting the atrocities of the Celestial Dragons in excruciating detail.
"Sea Circle Calendar 1484," he started, his voice even and chilling. "The Celestial Dragons set their sights on the Valley of the Gods. They turned it into their playground—a grand killing competition. A hunt. Thousands of innocent lives sacrificed for their twisted amusement."
Gasps rippled through the room. Edie's words were like daggers, piercing the thin veneer of justice the Marines wore.
"And you, the so-called protectors of justice," Edie continued, his gaze sweeping across the Vice Admirals, "what did you do? You sealed off the island to ensure their prey couldn't escape. How many such competitions have been held in 700 years?"
The Vice Admirals were visibly shaken. For most of them, these revelations were entirely new. Vice Admiral Momonga, one of the more steadfast among them, felt his grip on his sword falter.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku..." Momonga's voice wavered as he turned to his superior. "Is this true?"
Sengoku's expression hardened, but he couldn't deny it. "It's true," Tsuru interjected, her voice heavy with resignation. "The Valley of the Gods incident is a dark chapter we've buried. But it happened."
The confirmation sent a shockwave through the room. Vice Admiral Momonga lowered his sword, his resolve crumbling. "I... I can't fight for this," he muttered, stepping back.
Edie, ever observant, seized the moment. "Confused, are we?" he asked, his voice smooth and inviting. "Don't deceive yourselves. A sword wielded in doubt cannot harm anyone."
One by one, the other Vice Admirals followed suit, their weapons lowered. The morale of the Marines was shattered without a single blow exchanged.
"Is this your game, Edie?" Sengoku asked, his voice trembling with restrained anger. "To come here and sow discord among us?"
Edie chuckled. "History is a little girl who can be dressed by anyone. The truth is malleable, Sengoku. But hearts—ah, those are much harder to mend once broken."
As if to hammer in his victory, Edie turned to leave. Sengoku called out, "Why? Why did you attack Mariejois? What's your endgame?"
Edie paused, glancing back. "My purpose? To dethrone the one who sits on the Void Throne. Saint Nerona Imu."
The name sent a ripple of disbelief through the room. Even Tsuru, known for her composure, couldn't mask her shock.
Edie smiled faintly at their reactions. "If you don't believe me, ask the Five Elders. Oh, wait—you can't. Imu's been exiled, courtesy of me."
He walked to the edge of the room, his figure poised to disappear. With a final glance, he said, "When the World Government falls, I'll give you Marines a choice. Until then... think carefully about what justice means to you."
And with that, Edie vanished, leaving behind a room full of shaken resolve and unanswered questions.
Vice Admiral Tsuru quietly entered Sengoku's office, her steps measured, her expression unreadable. The weight of Edie's words lingered like a storm cloud over their heads, and the room felt suffocatingly silent. Tsuru crossed her arms, her sharp eyes piercing through Sengoku's contemplative demeanor.
"I'm afraid his purpose was to alienate," she said, her tone as sharp as a blade. "And I must say, he succeeded masterfully."
Sengoku leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of stoicism. His hands clasped together tightly, but the slight tremor betrayed his inner turmoil. "Because what he said was an irrefutable fact," he muttered. His voice carried a bitterness that even years of discipline couldn't mask.
He reached into a drawer and retrieved a classified file, its edges worn from frequent handling. Flipping through the pages, his eyes scanned the text with practiced precision. The familiar name he was searching for soon leaped off the page. With a heavy exhale, he picked up his Den Den Mushi and dialed.
The line rang several times before it connected. The familiar voice on the other end immediately eased some of Sengoku's tension.
"It's me, Sengoku," he said, his tone unusually soft.
"Fleet Admiral…" came the voice from the other end, uncertain but warm. "It's me, Rosinante. I apologize for the long silence. Is everything all right?"
"It's fine," Sengoku replied. "I just need to confirm something."
There was a pause on the line. Tsuru watched him intently, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of her chair. Sengoku took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the Den Den Mushi.
"Rosinante," he began, his voice measured, "the Op-Op Fruit you secured... You gave it to a child named Law, correct?"
The silence that followed was palpable. Rosinante's voice came back, cautious. "…Yes. He's here with me now. We've been living quietly."
Sengoku's brow furrowed, his grip tightening on the receiver. "And the fruit's ability... the Immortality Surgery. It's real, isn't it?"
Rosinante hesitated, the weight of the question hanging heavily over him. He knew that admitting the truth could mean endangering Law. But his trust in Sengoku outweighed his fears.
"Yes," Rosinante finally said. "It's a technique that grants immortality… at the cost of the user's life."
Sengoku leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The confirmation hit him like a tidal wave. The implications of Edie's earlier claims began to crystallize in his mind. He didn't need to ask the Five Elders to confirm it now. The existence of Saint Nerona Imu—an eternal ruler hidden in the shadows—was no longer a mere theory.
"I see," Sengoku said, his voice heavy. He closed his eyes for a moment, his mind racing through the years of service, the countless battles, and the injustices he had witnessed but could never challenge.
"Rosinante…" he said after a long pause. "Thank you for confirming this. From now on, I want you to focus on living a peaceful life with Law. You're relieved of your duties."
The line went silent for a moment, and then Rosinante's voice came back, tinged with confusion. "Fleet Admiral… you mean I'm dismissed?"
Sengoku's voice softened, almost fatherly. "Consider it a reward for everything you've done. Take care of that boy. Keep him safe."
With that, he disconnected the call and placed the receiver back on the desk. His shoulders sagged, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He looked up at Tsuru, who had been quietly observing him throughout the exchange.
"Imu exists," he said simply, his voice a mix of resignation and disbelief. "Eight hundred years… hidden in the shadows, pulling the strings."
Tsuru's gaze didn't waver. "So, what now?" she asked. Her tone was calm, but the undercurrent of concern was evident.
Sengoku leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and clasping his hands together. "Now, we decide if we're willing to keep performing on the stage they've built for us… or if it's time to tear the curtains down."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of the choice before them loomed large, a silent reckoning that neither had the courage to face fully.
Tsuru broke the silence. "Whatever path we choose, we'll need to tread carefully. If Edie's words are true, the enemy we face isn't just the World Government… it's history itself."
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