The Fall of the Dragons

The news of Franz and Duval's audacious act spread like wildfire across the Sabaody Archipelago, quickly reaching the ears of the residents and visitors alike. Whispers of the Purple Demon and his companion, the man who bore the misfortune of a striking resemblance to Sanji, echoed through the streets, mingling with the murmurs of shock and disbelief. The world had been shaken to its core, for the Celestial Dragons, the untouchable figures who had held absolute power, had been slain.

In the heart of the commotion, a crowd had gathered in a spacious plaza, their eyes fixated on the lifeless body of a World Noble, Charlos, who lay sprawled on the ground. The once-proud figure, adorned in extravagant garments and surrounded by an air of entitlement, was now a mere lifeless shell. Blood stained the pristine white marble beneath him, a stark contrast to the opulence that surrounded the scene.

Franz, his face partially concealed by his signature mask, stood tall and imposing, radiating an aura of determination and defiance. Next to him, Duval, his features hidden beneath the transformed appearance granted by Franz's water manipulation, exuded a simmering anger that had long been repressed by years of persecution.

The crowd, a mix of awe, fear, and admiration, stood frozen in disbelief. The oppression they had endured at the hands of the Celestial Dragons had been etched into their lives, breeding resentment and despair. And now, before their very eyes, two individuals had shattered the illusion of invincibility that had surrounded the World Nobles. Franz and Duval had become symbols of hope, of resistance against a corrupt system that had held them captive for far too long.

Amidst the stunned silence, a murmur began to ripple through the crowd, growing into a chorus of voices expressing gratitude and praise for the unlikely saviors. Whispers of freedom and justice filled the air, intertwining with the faint sounds of celebration. It was a moment of collective catharsis, a spark of rebellion ignited by the actions of the Purple Demon and his enigmatic companion.

As the news reached the ears of the Supernovas scattered across the island, it invoked a range of reactions. Some, aware of the consequences that would inevitably follow such a brazen act, made the swift decision to depart from Sabaody Archipelago, seeking safety and anonymity elsewhere. The impending arrival of Admirals loomed over them, a threat too significant to ignore.

Yet, a few curious and defiant souls chose to remain, drawn to the unfolding chaos and uncertain of the outcome. For them, it was an opportunity to witness history in the making, to gauge the true extent of the government's response and, perhaps, find an opening for their own ambitions.

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of the Marines, the news reached Fleet Admiral Sengoku, a figure known for his measured composure and unyielding sense of justice. Irritation flashed across his face, his brows furrowing as he absorbed the magnitude of the situation. Franz's audacity had struck at the very heart of the World Government's control, challenging their authority in a way few dared to.

Without hesitation, Sengoku issued his orders. Two Admirals, accompanied by ten Vice Admirals and a fleet of thirty battleships, were to be dispatched immediately. The Purple Demon and the remaining Supernovas had become priority targets, their capture deemed essential to restore the government's waning grip on power.

Within the confines of his office, Sengoku paced restlessly, his mind consumed by the gravity of the situation. He knew that capturing Franz and the other notorious pirates would not only be a matter of upholding justice but also a way to reaffirm the might and influence of the World Government.

As the Admirals and Vice Admirals mobilized, the purple hue of twilight descended upon the Sabaody Archipelago, casting an ominous shadow over the chaos that unfolded. The hunt for the Purple Demon and the Supernovas had begun, a clash of wills and powers that would shape the course of events to come.

In the midst of the turmoil, Franz and Duval retreated into the shadows, their identities once again shrouded in secrecy. They understood that their actions had set in motion a chain of events that would test their resolve and push them to their limits. But the flame of rebellion burned bright within their hearts, propelling them forward on their quest for freedom and justice.

As the Admirals closed in, and the fate of the Sabaody Archipelago hung in the balance, the stage was set for a confrontation that would redefine the balance of power in the world of One Piece. The battle lines had been drawn, and the Purple Demon's presence would continue to resonate, not only as a symbol of defiance but also as a beacon of hope for all those who dared to dream of a better world.

Deep within the hallowed halls of the World Government, the Five Elders gathered in a solemn chamber, their presence commanding respect and fear. Their aged faces etched with lines of wisdom and treachery, they deliberated over the recent turn of events, the audacious act that had shaken the world—the killing of a Celestial Dragon by the enigmatic figure known as Franz, the Purple Demon.

Among the Five Elders, one stood apart, his countenance twisted with a mix of rage and disbelief. Sword Elder, known for his unwavering loyalty and devotion to the World Government, felt his wrath simmer within him like an inferno. The audacity of Franz's actions had struck a nerve, challenging the very foundation of the world order they had worked so tirelessly to maintain.

His eyes ablaze with fury, Sword Elder clenched his fists, his mind consumed by thoughts of retribution. The Purple Demon had become an enemy of the state, a symbol of rebellion that could not be tolerated. With each passing moment, his resolve solidified, his determination to bring the full force of the World Government down upon Franz burned with an intensity matched only by his unyielding loyalty.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the Florian Triangle, the enigmatic pirate Gecko Moria, once a Warlord of the Sea, sailed through the mist-shrouded waters aboard his massive vessel, Thriller Bark. A gluttonous figure, Moria reveled in the pursuit of power and the manipulation of shadows. News of Franz's exploits had reached his ears, stirring a twisted mix of curiosity and contempt within him.

As the ship creaked and groaned beneath him, Moria's bulbous eyes narrowed, his expression one of cold calculation. The Purple Demon's actions threatened the delicate balance of power, a balance he had exploited for his own gain during his tenure as a Warlord. Franz's audacity was an affront to the world Moria had crafted, a world where shadows danced and the weak were forever subjugated.

But amidst the storm of rage and gluttony, both Sword Elder and Moria found themselves united by a common thread—their unwavering commitment to their task. It was a task bestowed upon them by the enigmatic figure known only as "IM," whose influence stretched far and wide within the world's shadows.

Sword Elder's thoughts returned to the mission assigned to him by IM, a mission that demanded swift action to protect the fragile facade of the World Government's authority. The Purple Demon had become a thorn in their side, a threat that needed to be eradicated to restore order and maintain control.

Moria, on the other hand, reveled in the prospect of the chaos that lay ahead. Franz's actions had thrown the world into disarray, creating a power vacuum that he saw as an opportunity for his own rise to supremacy. His gluttonous appetite for shadows grew insatiable, craving the power that lay within Franz's grasp.

As Sword Elder and Moria set their sights on the location where Franz was rumored to be, their minds became consumed by the task at hand. They pushed aside their personal emotions and desires, focusing solely on the duty that had been assigned to them by the enigmatic IM.

With each passing moment, the tension grew, and the fate of Franz, the Purple Demon, and the world itself, hung in the balance. The clash of wills, desires, and power approached its zenith, a storm that would shape the course of the future. Sword Elder and Moria pressed forward, their resolve unyielding, for they were the instruments of the World Government's wrath, and they would not rest until their mission was complete.