Chapter 56: New Plans, New Possibilities

The eerie quiet that had fallen over Thriller Bark was unsettling. The massive shadowy zombies were gone, and Moria was defeated, but the weight of the battle still hung heavy in the air. Blood and sweat covered the battlefield, and the air was thick with tension and fatigue.

Vulcan, Smoker, Brook, and the remaining Marines stood in silence for a moment, staring at the bodies of their fallen comrades.

"We did it..." Brook murmured softly, his bony hands resting on his cane. "But at what cost?"

Vulcan knelt on the ground, placing a hand on one of the fallen recruits. The young Marine's eyes were closed, his face peaceful despite the carnage around him. Vulcan's jaw clenched tightly as memories of the battle flashed through his mind—Moria's laughter, the sight of blood splattering on the ground.

Smoker stood beside him, his face grim as he stared at the fallen soldiers. He inhaled deeply from his two cigars, the smoke swirling around him in the dim light. "We need to recover their bodies," he said, his voice rough but steady. "Give them a proper burial. They deserve that much."

Everyone nodded, too drained to say much more. The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, and the pain from their wounds was becoming more apparent.

As they sat down, beginning to treat their injuries, Brook—ever the strange mixture of somber and comedic—leaned back, crossing his skeletal legs. "Yohohoho... well, now that we've had our fill of excitement, what do we do next? I suppose we're not just staying here, right? This place doesn't have the best ambiance. Yohohoho!"

Vulcan looked over at Brook, shaking his head slightly, but a small smirk tugged at his lips. Even after everything they'd been through, Brook's ability to lighten the mood was almost admirable.

Smoker exhaled a long stream of smoke, his expression contemplative. "Next? The first thing we need to do is contact HQ and report everything. What happened here is way above any of our pay grades, especially considering who we just took down. Then we'll arrange to transport Moria to Impel Down." He took another drag of his cigars, clearly lost in thought.

Vulcan, still bandaging his arm, narrowed his eyes at Smoker. "You didn't mention anything about the ship."

Smoker looked at him, clearly taken aback. "The ship?"

"Yeah," Vulcan said, glancing around at the massive, eerie structure that was Thriller Bark. "This thing is huge. And it can move."

Smoker rubbed his chin, glancing around at the massive ship that was floating in the middle of the Grand Line. "I... I hadn't really thought about it. What do you even do with something like this?"

Vulcan shrugged. "We could make it a new Marine base. A base that can move."

Smoker's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he didn't respond. He stared at Vulcan as if the idea had never crossed his mind before. "A moving Marine base... That's... not a bad idea."

Brook raised his hand, his skeletal face grinning as usual. "Ah, a floating fortress of justice! Quite the idea, don't you think? I'd love to stay aboard, though I have no stomach for the food... Yohohoho!"

The recruits and other Marines who had survived the battle exchanged glances. It was an outlandish suggestion, but the more they thought about it, the more it made sense. Thriller Bark was an enormous ship—far more than just a pirate's hideout. Its sheer size and mobility could be a massive asset to the Marines.

But before they could discuss it further, something strange began to happen.

Brook, who had been laughing moments before, suddenly stood still, his bony frame trembling. His hollow eye sockets widened in surprise as his body stiffened.

"What's happening...?" Brook gasped, his usually cheerful voice filled with a strange mixture of hope and disbelief.

A swirling shadow materialized in front of them, dark and wispy, twisting and reforming like smoke. It moved with a slow, deliberate grace, and then it darted toward Brook with alarming speed. The skeletal musician's form was engulfed in the swirling darkness for a brief moment before the shadow slipped seamlessly into his body.

Brook stood silent for a long second, his skeletal jaw trembling slightly before he suddenly raised his arms high into the air.

"Yohohohoho!! My shadow has returned!" Brook laughed, dancing in place, his bony frame moving in a wild, joyous celebration. "I can feel it! I'm whole again!"

Vulcan grinned, watching Brook with amusement. "So, Moria finally let it go, huh?"

Smoker chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Seems like he's given up completely."

Brook continued to prance around in excitement, his sword-cane raised triumphantly. "Yohohoho! I've waited so long for this! I can stand in the sunlight again, without fear of turning to dust! How thrilling!"

The mood lightened slightly as Brook danced around, but the tension of the battle still lingered. The cost of their victory was heavy, and Smoker wasn't about to let them forget it.

Smoker took out a Den Den Mushi, the snail-like communication device, and dialed in to Marine Headquarters. After a brief conversation with an officer on the other end, the Den Den Mushi was patched through to a superior. Smoker adjusted his coat and then held the device up as it connected.

"Smoker, reporting from Thriller Bark. We've successfully defeated Gecko Moria, and we need to arrange immediate transport to Impel Down for him," Smoker began, his voice formal.

The voice on the other end of the line was slightly surprised but professional. "Moria's been defeated? That's a big deal, Smoker."

Smoker exhaled deeply. "That's not all. We've also recovered Thriller Bark, Moria's ship. The crew sustained heavy casualties, but the ship is intact. It's… big. Really big."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then the voice came back, hesitant. "What are you suggesting, Smoker?"

Smoker glanced over at Vulcan and gave a small nod before answering. "We're considering turning Thriller Bark into a moving Marine base. It could be an invaluable asset in the Grand Line."

Another long silence. The idea was too unexpected, too radical. But before Smoker could explain further, the Den Den Mushi shifted, and a new voice cut through the silence—one filled with authority and impatience.

"What is this about Thriller Bark becoming a Marine base?!" the unmistakable voice of Fleet Admiral Sengoku boomed through the Den Den Mushi.

Smoker flinched slightly, his usual stoic demeanor breaking for just a moment. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku, sir. We were discussing the possibility of turning Thriller Bark into a mobile base for Marine operations in the Grand Line. Given the ship's size and mobility, it could—"

"WHATTT?!" Sengoku's voice thundered, filled with disbelief. "You're telling me you not only took down Gecko Moria, but you want to turn his pirate ship into a Marine base?! Are you out of your mind, Smoker?!"

The entire crew stared at the Den Den Mushi, their faces a mixture of surprise and concern. Even Brook, with his ever-present grin, raised an eyebrow at Sengoku's outburst.

Smoker sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Sir, it was just a suggestion. We have the ship, and rather than leaving it to rot or allowing pirates to reclaim it—"

Sengoku cut him off again, his voice still booming. "You better have a damn good reason for this idea, Smoker! Explain it to me, and it better make sense."

Vulcan, sitting nearby, smirked at Sengoku's reaction. He had expected the Fleet Admiral to be shocked, but this level of surprise was almost amusing.

"Looks like we made a splash," Vulcan muttered with a grin.

Smoker gave Vulcan a side glance before continuing to explain. "Sir, Thriller Bark is massive and mobile, a floating fortress. If we station Marines here, we can monitor key areas of the Grand Line, secure dangerous zones, and prevent pirates from using this ship as a base again. It's a tactical asset."

Sengoku was silent for a moment, considering the idea. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer but still firm. "I'll discuss it with the higher-ups. For now, secure the ship and bring Moria to Impel Down as planned. And Smoker—don't make decisions like this without direct authorization again."

Smoker gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. "Understood, Fleet Admiral."

But just as Smoker was about to hang up, Sengoku's voice called out again, sharper this time. "And one more thing, Smoker."

Smoker paused, holding the Den Den Mushi to his ear. "Yes, sir?"

"I want to meet the people who pulled this off," Sengoku said, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity and authority. "Bring them to Marineford. I want to hear directly from the ones responsible for taking down a Shichibukai and suggesting we turn his ship into a Marine base."

The crew's eyes widened in surprise at Sengoku's request, and for a brief moment, even Smoker seemed taken aback. But the Rear Admiral quickly composed himself, giving a small nod.

"Understood, sir," Smoker replied, his voice steady.

The connection ended, leaving the crew in an uneasy silence. Smoker put the Den Den Mushi away, exhaling a long stream of smoke from his cigars.

"Well, that went about as well as expected," Smoker muttered.

Vulcan chuckled, shaking his head. "Could have been worse."