One piece: Celestial dragon - Miracle of the Void Throne

The central command tower of Marineford trembled—not from enemy assault, but from the force of Fleet Admiral Kong's fist slamming into his own desk.

CRACK!

Wood splintered. Papers flew. The heavy iron-rimmed table buckled and split down the centre.

"IS ROCKS RETALIATING?!"

Across from him stood three sweating intelligence officers, saluting stiffly. Not one dared blink.

"Get every unit on alert! Mobilise the entire New World Marine Bases! I want a full sweep—deploy the nearest divisions to reinforce the attacked installations! NOW!"

One officer stammered out confirmations, while another scribbled transmission orders. A third held a list of losses with shaking hands.

In the corner, calmly seated with a single bead of sweat on her forehead, sat Vice-Admiral Tsuru.

Her voice, quiet but piercing, broke the frenzy: "These pirates are not renowned for their brains. Nor are they allies of Rocks."

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

"Strange, indeed. Sanjuan Wolf is the greatest threat—but the DeathInk Pirates and Long Arm Scream Pirates? They're New World rookies. Reckless. Easily subdued."

Kong growled. "So they were bait. Distractions. Allies of the real culprit—or worse… pawns."

Tsuru nodded. "The coordination, the precision of timing across multiple bases—this was not luck. It was calculated. Terrifyingly so."

Kong covered his face with his massive palm, breathing heavily.

"How the hell do I report this disaster now..."

A silence fell over the room.

Then he lowered his hand and muttered, "All vacations are cancelled. Especially Garp's. We are now in a state of war."

He looked at Tsuru. "What's the status of Vice-Admiral Macaron?"

"Already en route to Firs Island Base. Estimated arrival in a few hours—he was midway through his sea patrol when the alert went out."

Another officer stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"Admiral Sengoku and Vice-Admiral Zephyr successfully captured the DeathInk Pirates. They ceased pursuit of Rocks to do so—but interrogations have yielded nothing."

Tsuru added, "Not even the torturers could pry answers."

The officer continued: "The DeathInk captain claims they heard a rumour. That one of our bases was left defenceless… and held a great treasure. So they took a chance."

Kong exhaled slowly, his temple throbbing.

Minutes passed before another intelligence officer entered at a brisk pace and saluted.

"Report! The Long Arm Scream Pirates have been subdued and captured! But… they claim our base was stockpiling multiple Devil Fruits—and ancient Long Arm tribe treasures."

Kong nearly laughed.

"Are these pirates completely brain-dead?! Being manipulated this easily?!"

Tsuru's eyes closed briefly.

"No. But it seems… our hidden thieves know their desires very well."

On the bloodied shores of Firs Island, the pirate swarm showed no signs of slowing.

Marines shouted formations, desperate to reorganise against the overwhelming assault. Explosions rocked the broken perimeter. The enemy poured in—cutthroats, cannoners, berserkers with rusted blades and jagged tattoos.

Amid the chaos, two voices rose above the din:

"Sleepy Joe, don't you lose to these weaklings!" laughed Donald, the Duck Zoan pirate, swooping through the air in erratic zigzags.

Joe—the Cheetah Zoan—scoffed as he blurred past a flurry of bayonets. "Don't embarrass yourself first, Ducktard!"

Together, they converged on Captain Moro.

Moro gritted his teeth, sabre at the ready, already bleeding from three cuts. "You two freaks…!"

He barely had time to parry before Joe flashed behind him with clawed speed, raking across his back. Moro twisted and slashed back, only to be struck by Donald's Haki-coated divebomb.

The captain fell, armour split. Blood soaked the ground beneath him.

"Another Marine fossil bites the dust!" Donald whooped midair. Now dancing with his fists raised.

Joe snickered, licking a bloodied claw. "Told you I'd win."

But their celebration was short-lived.

A new voice bellowed from the smoke:

"YOU TWO WONT POLLUTE THIS WORLD ANY LONGER!!! DIE!!"

A fist of molten magma blazed through the air—Sakazuki.

His punch connected squarely with Donald's side. The Duck Zoan's Armament Haki dampened the blow, but not enough.

BOOM!

Donald screamed, sent hurtling backwards through a row of pirate raiders.

"SLEEEEPYYYYY JOOOOEEEE!!!" he howled mid-flight.

Joe snarled and counterattacked. He lunged, claws tearing through the air, landing slashes across Sakazuki's chest. But his hands—where they touched magma—sizzled and smoked.

"Tch—!! Damn magma bastard! "

Donald regained control mid-air, flapping once before folding into a dive. He coated his sharp beak in Armament Haki and plummeted toward Sakazuki with killer intent.

"QUACK YOU, MARINE SCUM!"

The flames burned hotter as Sakazuki met him head-on.

Donald's beak struck forward—faster than a bullet—but Sakazuki raised his magma fist and caught the blow. Steam hissed as molten rock met hardened Haki.

"Not even worth burning," Sakazuki growled.

He twisted and slammed Donald into the stone floor, sending cracks spidering outward. Dust and debris exploded around them.

Joe, the cheetah Zoan, zipped in at a very fast speed. "Donald! I'm flanking him—don't screw this up like always!!!"

Donald coughed, grinned through broken teeth. "It's always your fault to begin with!!!"

Joe blurred around Sakazuki, aiming his claws low. Donald came from above with a wide spiral dive. Their combo had slain a dozen officers earlier.

But Sakazuki didn't move. Instead, his shoulder erupted in lava—a jet of molten fury catching Joe mid-dash.

"AAARGH!" Joe screamed, his claws sizzling.

Donald struck—but Sakazuki turned, grabbing him mid-air again.

"Not fast enough", he muttered.

He threw Donald with such force that the duck-man crashed through two flaming barrels, rolling into a line of stunned pirates.

Magma spilt around Sakazuki's feet. Parts of the base began to smoke. Even a few marines nearby were forced to back away as the heat surged unpredictably.

"He's… he's losing control!" shouted one.

Another musketman's weapon burst into flame.

"Hold formation!" barked a Lieutenant.

But chaos reigned.

Donald rose, beak cracked and wings trembling. "Y-you damn monster…"

Joe panted, his fur blackened. "This guy… he's not normal…"

"Bring down the tower!" someone yelled.

Pirates lit fuses near a support beam. The structure began to collapse toward Sakazuki.

He didn't flinch.

He turned and punched upward.

A column of magma erupted from his arm, blasting through the falling rubble and sending it skyward like a volcano.

The Marines watched in awe.

"He… punched through a tower…" one whispered.

Another began to rally. "He's fighting two of them! Help him!"

"No way—we'll die!"

"THEN DIE STANDING!" screamed a grizzled Lieutenant, charging with sabre drawn.

More Marines joined, forming a line behind Sakazuki. Not many—but enough.

Donald stumbled back, eyes wide. "This… this ain't right, Sleepy Joe."

Joe's claws trembled. "He should've died…is magma logia this powerful?! DAMN! It's so hot around here... I want an ice cream!"

Sakazuki stood in the rising flames. His body steamed, face unflinching.

"Don't worry, you will soon stop thinking about these things", he said. "After I punch your brains out of your miserable existence, VERMIN!"

Just then, Donald's eyes darted toward the horizon—where Sanjuan Wolf still lingered offshore, his colossal hand clutching his wounded eye.

"Forget this! Flying's best—every pirate for himself!" Donald laughed, flapping his wings and soaring away from the battlefield.

"Sleepy Joe, good luck! Hahaha!"

Joe blinked. "You—YOU TRAITOR! Donald, you son of a—!"

He turned to flee, his Cheetah Zoan speed giving him the edge—but Sakazuki was already moving.

"RUNNING?!" the magma Marine roared.

With relentless fury, Sakazuki pursued, ignoring the other pirates. Magma burst beneath his feet as he launched forward, striking down every pirate in his path.

Meanwhile, deep within the facility, Jonathan sprinted down smoke-filled corridors. He knew this base better than most—knew where the ventilation shafts connected.

He lobbed a tear gas grenade into one shaft, then a fragmentation grenade down another.

On the other side, pirates were hammering a reinforced door.

"Why's it gettin' hard to breathe?! COUGH—AGH!!"

"GAS! IT'S A GAS—!"

But Jonathan didn't linger. His boots pounded the tile as he turned down another hallway—only to hear gunfire behind him.

Another pirate crew. Rogue or lost—

They fired. One bullet grazed his cheek.

Jonathan ducked into cover and returned fire with his pistol. Running - Strategic retreat.

He skidded into a narrow corridor—and froze.

Government agents. Four of them. Down.

He crouched, checking their pulses.

None breathing.

Something twitched in the shadows. A faint glint.

Jonathan snapped his head up.

A mask. Pale. Featureless. Watching from the far end of the hall.

And then—it was gone.

"…Am I seeing things?" he muttered.

But he couldn't stop. Gunfire again. Pirates were close.

And then—

A sound. Mechanical. Grinding. Like gears turning. Getting louder.

Jonathan backed into a wall, pistol raised.

The pirates came charging—

And an explosion ripped through the corridor.

Fire, smoke, and bone scattered. The pirates were gone.

Jonathan's heart slammed against his ribs.

"…What the hell… just happened?"