Skypiea, Upper Yard.
Sakazuki and Cricket stepped out of the shrine, the heavy doors groaning shut behind them.
The air outside was fresh, tinged with the earthy scent of the ancient land around them. They began walking across the island, now transformed over four centuries into something both sacred and scarred.
"Mister, when are we going to the Shandian camp? Do you really think peace is possible?"
Cricket's uncertain voice broke the silence.
Back in the shrine, Sakazuki had accepted Gan Fall's request to deliver his message of peace to the Shandians. But whether peace was truly possible—that was another matter entirely.
Even as a child, Cricket had understood one thing: hatred nurtured over four hundred years wouldn't disappear just because someone asked it to.
"No rush," Sakazuki said. "First, we find the Shandora ruins. And the Light of Shandora. Four centuries of bloodshed won't vanish overnight. But if we can reignite that light, we might give them a reason to talk."
He activated his Observation Haki, scanning the area. His eyes narrowed slightly as he began to move forward, Cricket following close behind.
It was ironic. The Skypieans had lived on this island for centuries, believing it to be divine land, and yet they'd never even realized there were ruins buried beneath their feet.
It wasn't until Enel came that the truth surfaced. He had discovered the hidden city and stripped it of all its gold to build the Ark Maxim.
"Is that so," Cricket murmured.
"Found it," Sakazuki said abruptly.
"What?!"
Whoosh!
Before Cricket could react, Sakazuki grabbed him by the collar. In a flash, the two vanished.
...
The City of Gold, Shandora.
They reappeared in a flash of movement, landing amidst the golden remnants of an ancient city.
Scattered structures shimmered faintly under the light, the soft gleam of weathered gold catching in the gaps of broken stone. Though impressive, something felt incomplete.
Cricket looked around, frowning. "The gold buildings are amazing, but… is this really the Shandora people talked about?"
"Of course not," Sakazuki replied. "The real Shandora is below."
"Below?"
Boom!
Still holding Cricket, Sakazuki slammed a foot into the ground. A powerful, invisible shockwave blasted downward, shattering the surface. The two dropped through the opening. Moments later, the clouds above filled in the gap.
As they fell, the hidden city revealed itself—an entire city made of gold. Everywhere the eye could see glowed with golden brilliance. At its center, a giant vine pierced through the heart of the city.
Around the vine stood four towering golden spires, enclosing what used to be the city's core. Without the massive vine, the center must have once held the legendary Light of Shandora.
Behind the vine stood a sky-piercing altar. The scattered golden buildings they'd seen before were just the topmost edges of this buried monument.
Below, countless golden structures—some intact, others crumbling—covered the land.
Everything here was made of gold.
A heavy, ancient atmosphere settled over them. Standing there, it was easy to imagine how majestic and thriving Shandora must have been 800 years ago.
Sakazuki set down the speechless Cricket, who was still stunned by what he saw, then walked toward the massive vine. Near its base lay broken golden tablets etched with square-shaped writing. Just as he expected...
"Can't read it," he muttered.
Still, he didn't look disappointed. The Poneglyphs only recorded what had already passed. They were relics of a lost age. After wandering a bit more, he found Cricket scribbling notes.
Seeing Sakazuki approach, Cricket looked up and said, "Mister, I don't see the Light of Shandora anywhere. Wasn't it supposed to be here?"
Sakazuki grabbed him by the collar again.
"The Light of Shandora isn't down here. It's in the sky."
Then he launched himself upward, a volcanic burst of force erupting from his feet as he soared toward the top of the massive vine. Beyond the cloud cover above, that's where the golden bell was waiting.
...
Meanwhile, in the White-White Sea.
On a small island to the southeast, known as Birka.
Unlike other sky islands that had developed a more castle-like architecture over time, Birka retained a simple and solemn design. Its buildings were quiet and ancient, carrying the weight of history in every line and carving.
The patterns on the walls felt old and sacred, almost untouched by time. The air was heavy. It seemed like even raising your voice here would be a kind of sin, as if this place had once been a holy land.
But that was only the first impression. The island wasn't as cold or distant as it looked—thanks to its people, there was warmth and liveliness. For example...
"That brat Enel! Where did he go? Find him! He stole my apple! I'm gonna beat him up good!"
"You! You four, go that way! And you two, come with me! Bring him to me!"
A five-year-old Birkan child, wings fluttering, charged through the streets like a tiny general. Behind him, a pack of three- and four-year-olds scrambled into formation, marching off in search of their rogue target.
Once the group wandered far enough, a fluffy white cloud behind a flower bed suddenly shifted. It lifted slightly, revealing a small head poking out—Enel.
Unlike the others, the three-year-old Enel had no wings on his back.
Crunch!
He took a huge bite from the apple in his hands. Looking in the direction his pursuers had gone, a smug grin spread across his face.
"Hmph, idiot. Think you can catch me? Just wait till I get stronger, then you'll be sorry."
Crunch! Crunch!
"Hmm?"
Enel ducked down again.
Far off, about a hundred meters away, someone turned a corner and walked by. But they passed without noticing the little boy hidden in the flower bed.
Crunch, crunch…
...
Skypiea, Upper Yard, summit of Giant Jack.
At the very peak of the great vine stood the legendary Light of Shandora—the enormous golden bell.
Four centuries of wind and rain had passed, but its luster had never faded.
Two massive golden columns, each eight meters thick, stood tall on either side. Suspended between them hung the giant golden bell itself.
It was a Poneglyph. It was the island's fabled song. It was the signal that marked the beginning of a war that had lasted for four hundred years.
"Should we ring it?" Sakazuki asked.
Cricket stared at him, confused. "Huh?"
Standing beneath the bell, even Sakazuki's nearly three-meter-tall frame looked small.
"To the Skypieans, it marked the beginning of war," he said quietly. "But it can also mark its end.
"To the Shandians, it was a promise to Noland. A regret Kalgara took to his grave."
He looked up at the bell, then back at Cricket.
"The war has lasted four centuries. Generation after generation has fought and died. If the bell rings again, it might finally give both sides a reason to speak.
"But it all depends on whether their leaders are willing to become the sinners. The sinners who bear the weight of four hundred years of hatred. If we don't ring it, we go to the Shandian village now. Fulfill your ancestor's wish. Deliver Gan Fall's hope for peace.
"Because not many have the courage to shoulder the burden of that hatred."
Cricket stood frozen, unsure of what to do. As Noland's descendant, he could become the bridge between the two parties.
But he had no right to decide on behalf of the Shandians. His gaze stayed locked on the bell, heart pounding.
"I..."
...
The Moon.
Underground Ruins, Birka.
The layout here was nearly identical to that of the Sky island in the White-White Sea. It was as if the entire place had been copied—but it was utterly lifeless.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
A lone mechanical scout wandered the ruins, still patrolling. But it was running out of time. There was no energy left. After more than a thousand years of waiting...
Thud...
It finally collapsed.
The last of the underground city's energy had been spent. It fell to the ground, its gaze turning upward—toward the ruins above.
As if its eyes could pierce through layers of stone and cloud... and glimpse that distant blue planet.
The light in its eyes slowly faded to nothing.
**
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