The Aftermath (I)

In the twenty years I've lived in this world, I've never wanted a devil fruit for myself. My sword was the only tool I needed to grow stronger. To me, that was enough. Yet, as I watched the scene unfolding in front of me, I felt an ugly, familiar emotion rise from the pit of my stomach. I knew this feeling very well. After all, this feeling had been a constant companion to me in my previous life.

Envy.

But my resolve wasn't that fragile. I pushed the feeling aside and refocused, intent on enjoying the show before me. Fire and darkness clashed in a chaotic dance, and I realized these two had surpassed their original selves. Though Blackbeard had "won" the battle of lost limbs, the true victor in strength and growth was Ace. In just fifteen minutes, they had pushed themselves to a level beyond anything anyone could have expected.

While I've never seen a Yonko's full strength up close, I could say with confidence, These two are the closest to a Yonko right now. I doubted even King could match these monsters in their current state. I couldn't speak for Benn Beckman, so I left that comparison alone. But whoever emerged victorious today, the real impact would be in the legacy they were forging. History was being made, and the future would be reshaped because of this battle.

In this world, the influence of a single powerful person can easily determine the fate of thousands. But two powers nearing Yonko level? That's on another scale entirely. After today, people would remember the day Mock Town was erased from existence. The temperature from Ace's flames was vaporizing the sea, and Blackbeard's darkness consumed the very earth. By the time their fight ended, the town would be gone, and this island would be uninhabitable for years.

And what was I doing, you ask? I was sitting atop a mountain on the island's edge. Doc Q had pulled a 'Netero' on me. And the worst part was, just like Netero, his bomb was also full of poison. The only reason I could stand right now was because I had used my Black Lotus style and sliced the explosion before it hit me. I thought that was the worst of it—until my sword broke in half. It was nearing its end, but couldn't it have lasted just one more day?

It almost felt like something, or someone, was actively preventing me from interfering in this fight. I shook off the thought. Paranoia was a dangerous slope. First, you might think only the big events are being manipulated; next, you'll wonder if even your own thoughts are your own. No, I wouldn't go down that rabbit hole.

This wasn't my stage—it was theirs. My part in today's events was over, and all that was left was to watch. As the explosions reshaped the very landscape, I took an anti-poison pill, staying seated as the dust finally began to settle.

Standing at the epicenter were two pirates. Blackbeard had been dealt the worst hand in today's fight. The makeshift leg he made using darkness was now gone. The right side of his face and his right hand were thoroughly burnt. His right hand was burned so badly that even his bones were showing. It can be fixed up, but there will be scars—deep, ugly scars. Ace wasn't doing that well either. His right arm was broken; it was bent in an unnatural way. His lungs were punctured, and multiple bones were broken for sure.

For ten long seconds, they stared each other down. Then, finally, Ace collapsed, utterly spent.

The fight was over.

The victor: Marshall D. Teach of the Blackbeard Pirates. It seemed fate had other plans for him after all.

I stood up from my seat and used Blooming Steps to reach Ace quickly. This was the perfect moment to end Blackbeard and save Ace—a chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Then, to my surprise, Blackbeard grabbed the flintlock pistol that he carried with him all the time and put it directly against Ace's temple.

Was he going to kill Ace? That shouldn't happen—what the hell?

"You, in the shadows! Show yourself!" Blackbeard shouted.

I understood immediately and stepped into the light, away from the lingering fire and darkness. It seems that he hadn't forgotten about me. My shirt was in tatters from the explosion, and Blackbeard stared at my scars in brief surprise. However, his interest was clearly on my face, and unfortunately for him, my mask had somehow survived.

"Don't come any closer!" Blackbeard warned, grinning wickedly. "One step, and I'll blow his head off!"

I halted, not wanting Ace to die. Over the last few days, we'd become... friends of a sort. But more importantly, he was a crucial piece in this world. He had a role far bigger than this one fight.

Seeing as I had stopped, Blackbeard's grin widened. "Zehahahaha! Now, slowly remove your mask. I want to see your face."

In response, my gaze turned ice cold as I unleashed my conqueror's haki to the fullest as the ground shook violently.

"Color of the Supreme King!" Blackbeard exclaimed, taking a wary step back.

"Don't think for a second that this is a situation where you can start making demands!" I warned, my voice like steel. "The only reason I'm not cutting you in half right now is because I don't want to anger Whitebeard. So tell me, Blackbeard—what do you want? And remember, one wrong answer, and you're dead."

Blackbeard, ever the clever one, chose his words carefully.

"All I want is my life, for two hours."

I smirked. Still as shrewd as ever. I considered his proposal, then nodded.

"That, I can do." Turning, I began to walk away. "You've grown strong, Teach. Far stronger than I expected. But next time we meet, I'll kill you."

"Right back at you, masked man," he snarled.

"Thank your crew. They're the only reason you're alive." Those were my last words before I faded into the shadows once more.

I could have waited the two hours and assassinated him. Or I could have broken my word, killed him here and now, and maybe stopped the Marineford War from ever happening. Perhaps a lot of lives would be saved.

But I didn't care about that. My plans were never to prevent Ace from getting captured after all. Although I've be kinda become friends with him, I wasn't going to disrupt my plans for him. Besides, I heard that the lowest level of Impel Down wasn't bad. He'll be fine.

I took off my mask and looked at the sky. The sky didn't care that an island had been decimated in the last hour; it was simply too vast, too powerful to care. I wanted to reach that level someday. But right now that was just wistful thinking.

I wanted this war to happen—I needed it. This war would put the wheels of great change into motion. It would mark the start of a new era, a world-shaking event that would be remembered like Gol D. Roger's last words twenty years ago.

Above all, this war would usher in chaos, shattering the fragile peace that blanketed the world. Chaos that would transform everything, for better or for worse. What I truly desired was that chaos to unfold.

After all, chaos is just a ladder.