Shirohige's Requiem

Whitebeard POV:

The battlefield was a storm of chaos and devastation, yet at its core, two titanic figures faced each other, locked in combat. Whitebeard, the world's strongest man, stood tall, his body bearing the ravages of age, wounds, and exhaustion. Across from him loomed Sengoku, the Fleet Admiral of the Marines, in his golden Buddha form. Their clash had long reached its peak, the ground beneath them splintered and broken, and the air around them charged with the echoes of their immense power.

To the rest of the world, it seemed as if Whitebeard was winning. He still stood, unyielding, despite the damage he had suffered. But Whitebeard himself knew the truth. His body was screaming in agony, and his insides were barely functioning. Most of his organs had stopped responding even before he has entered Marineford. Now, after facing wave after wave of admirals, vice-admirals, and countless Marines, his survival was a testament to his indomitable will.

Pain was an old companion to Whitebeard. It had been with him for decades, through countless battles and hardships. He had earned the title of the world's strongest not by avoiding pain, but by enduring it. For him, pain was a reminder that he was still alive, a signal that he could still fight. And so he fought—not for glory, not for survival, but for something far greater.

He fought because his family was watching. He fought so his sons, his crew, could see him standing tall, a proud father protecting them one last time. He fought to buy them the chance to escape Marineford and live their dreams. But more than anything, he fought because that's who he was: Whitebeard. A father. A protector. A conqueror. A man who had shown the world that kindness and strength could coexist.

But amidst his selflessness, there was a selfish desire burning within him today. He didn't want to die alone. He wanted his family by his side, to feel their warmth as he took his final breath. Yet the Marine forces, led by Sengoku, stood in his way. And he'll do what he has done his entire life when faced against an obstactle.

He'll crush it to the ground and achieve his goal by stepping on it.

He tightened his grip on Murakumogiri, his legendary naginata, and turned his gaze to Sengoku. The golden Buddha radiated blinding light, his size growing as he prepared for the final clash. Whitebeard steadied himself, his massive shoulders heaving with labored breaths.

"You're a stubborn old fool, Edward," Sengoku said, his voice sharp but tinged with a strange respect.

Whitebeard let out a low chuckle, though it was strained. "You don't get to my age without being stubborn, Sengoku. Now, let's finish this."

Before the two titans could engage, Whitebeard noticed movement in his periphery. Two figures emerged from the battlefield's chaos: Aokiji and Kizaru, two of the Navy's most powerful admirals, closing in from behind. Whitebeard's eyes narrowed. He could see their intent clearly—to strike him from all sides, weaken him just enough for Sengoku to deliver the killing blow.

"Cowards," Whitebeard muttered under his breath. He had known the Navy's hypocrisy for decades, but this was another level of ruthlessness.

He braced himself, prepared to endure the onslaught, but just as Aokiji's ice and Kizaru's light surged toward him, a massive wall of flames erupted behind him. The fire split into two distinct hues—one blue and one red—forming an impenetrable shield that stopped the admirals' attacks cold.

Whitebeard turned in shock, his eyes widening as he saw the source of the flames: Marco and Ace.

"Marco! Ace!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield. "What are you doing here? I told you to go back to the ship!"

Ace spoke, tears streaming from his eyes,

"We're family, aren't we? Pops?"

Whitebeard was taken aback by the question, but he answered without hesitation, his voice filled with pride. "Of course you are! You are my sons, and I will not have my sons die here!"

Ace's voice cracked as he replied, his words trembling with emotion.

"What kind of sons would we be if we let our father die? You've protected us for so long, Pops. Please… please let us protect your back, just this once! Let us fight with you! For one last time!"

Whitebeard's heart clenched. He wanted to yell at them, to tell them to leave, to escape while they still could. He wanted to tell them that he didn't need their help, that he could handle this alone. But then he paused, memories flooding his mind.

He remembered a time when he had been truly alone, a time before he had found his crew. He remembered the cold emptiness of those days, the loneliness that had driven him to the seas in search of something greater. He had set sail not for treasure or power, but for the warmth of a family.

And now, looking at Marco and Ace standing defiantly before him, he realized something profound. He had succeeded. He had found the family he had always yearned for. These two stubborn fools, willing to risk their lives for him, were proof of that.

A warmth spread through Whitebeard's chest, not from the flames but from something deeper. Tears welled in his eyes, and for the first time in decades, he allowed them to fall.

Whitebeard steeled his resolve further as he spoke,

"It seems that my sons have grown up, Sengoku. It's quite funny if you think about it. You know, Roger came to me twenty years ago before his execution. I have always found that man to be a cryptic one. He spoke to me about a future generation. A generation of pirates who'll surpass us. A generation of pirates who'll change the world. I laughed at him then. How can someone know the future? But, now seeing the world around me I realize that he was right." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "Today is the last day I'll ever raise my weapon. That means that my position of Yonko will be opened up for a new and better candidate." His voice rose to the highest as he spoke, "Ace, Marco, my stupid sons; Zephyr the enigmatic swordsman, and even my traitorous son, Teach! One of you will fill my seat in the future. Become stronger. Become so strong that you have the title of Yonko beside your name. But don't stop there. Don't stop until you have reached the finish line!"

The weight of his words hung in the air, a declaration that shook the very foundation of Marineford. Sengoku's expression darkened. He knew what was coming.

"For those around the world who yearns for freedom, don't lose your hope. Roger did not lie twenty years ago! I have never wanted it myself. But I know the truth. The truth about why the World Government tries to subdue your freedom. It's because they're afraid. Afraid that another person might find that treasure. One Piece....IS REAL!!! So go forth and set sail. Because the one who holds the One Piece decides the fate of the world."

Gasps erupted across the battlefield. Whitebeard's proclamation reverberated far beyond Marineford, reaching the ears of countless people across the seas.

"And as a parting gift, let me show you what the World's Strongest truly looks like."

As he finished speaking Whitebeard gripped Murakumogiri with both his hands. His opponent was a golden Buddha that was as tall as the giants of Elbaph. The Fleet Admiral of the whole Marine. 

Whitebeard took a single step forward, and the ground beneath him shattered, a massive crater forming in his wake. Dark red lightning poured out of his body, crackling through the air as an overwhelming pressure descended upon Marineford. Reality itself seemed to bend at the tip of his naginata as he raised it high. Whitebeard felt youth return to his body once again, a fleeting return to the strength he had once known. He felt every single emotion he had felt all his life. This attack would carry everything—his strength, his will, his very soul.

In that moment, Whitebeard defied the very logic that held the world together. It was because of his love. For the love of his family, in his final moments, he surpassed his own limit and became the strongest he has ever been.

The naginata swung with all its might.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing.

And then the whole world changed.

-------

The power Whitebeard unleashed defied comprehension. The sky darkened as if mourning the devastation, and the sea roared in agony. Marineford was gone, reduced to nothing but a void. The ground where the fortress of justice once stood had been erased, leaving only the portion of the island behind Whitebeard intact. An entire was erased from existence by a single moment.

I watched in stunned silence, Blackbeard and I both pausing our battle as the aftermath unfolded. The sheer magnitude of Whitebeard's attack was beyond anything I had ever seen. It was monstrous, unparalleled—a force of nature given form.

Garp appeared, his expression grim as he tried to pull Sengoku away from the point of impact. But even Garp's immense strength couldn't fully save him. Sengoku's entire left side was gone, his golden form shattered.

And there, at the center of it all, stood Whitebeard.

His coat was gone, revealing his scarless back and the proud tattoo that marked him as the head of his family. He held Murakumogiri in his right hand, his body still and his eyes closed. A small smile graced his face, a smile of satisfaction, of peace.

I found tears forming in my eyes. I wanted him not to die today. But who was I do decide the fate of a great man like him? He lived the way he wanted and died the way he wanted. He really didn't need to choose. He has taken everything.

Whitebeard's legend was complete. He had lived as he wanted, fought as he wanted, and died as he wanted, with his family standing behind him.

Everyone was silent. It seemed as if they have lost their words. My eyes darted around and found Blackbeard. His eyes contained admiration for his former captain as well as an enormous greed. I started to prepare myself if he decided to attack any further. I wasn't exactly sure if I had the strength to fight at my fullest.

But I didn't need to intervene as the sound of a footstep broke the silence. His words cut through the tension,

"It seems that I wasn't really needed here." His red hair showing his identity well enough. "Whitebeard has changed the world today," Shanks continued. "For better or worse, that remains to be seen. But I don't think anyone here has the will to continue fighting. If you still want a battle, though…" His gaze swept across the remnants of Marineford. "I'll be your opponent."

Shanks's words were true. No one had the energy, or the desire, to continue. Even Blackbeard seemed hesitant, his usual bravado subdued.

Even if I wanted to kill Blackbeard right now, I don't actually have the confidence to go against Shanks. His presence also meant that Blackbeard was not getting the power lf Gura Gura no Mi.

That was a small win for me.

I sheathed my sword and sat down on a piece of rubble, my body exhausted. The storm clouds above mirrored the turmoil within me. The sky itself had felt threatened by the power Whitebeard has shown in his last moments. Truly extraordinary. There was a quote back on Earth that "A person dies when they are forgotten."

Whitebeard might not have life left in his body. But he's not dying anytime soon. His will lives on in his family. He's going to be remembered as the great man he is.

The War of Marineford is over.