The courtyard shook beneath their feet.
Green Bull, World Government Admiral, loomed tall and terrible, his body half-transmogrified into a monstrous fusion of man and plant — huge vines wrapped around his arms, his face shadowed by the writhing leaves that crowned his head. His green-tinted sword cut with lethal grace, each strike powerful enough to cleave stone.
Facing him was Solian.
Panting. Hands scorched. Chest heaving.
But his eyes. his eyes burned brighter than ever before.
Green Bull bellowed again as he rushed forward, earth tearing beneath the power of his momentum. Solian moved by instinct — or at least, it's what he once was.
Now, something within him stirred.
A spark.
The world paused, just for an instant. Out of the corner of his eye, Solian caught a glimpse of the future — three seconds into the future.
The green blade would come down from the right, attempting to cleave his shoulder. If he went left, a tendril would spear up out of the ground, impaling him.
He exhaled forcefully.
And went right instead, ducking under the blade by a hair's width, spinning low and sending a blistering burst of solar plasma into the side of Green Bull.
The Admiral grunted in annoyance — not pain — but it was a hit nevertheless.
Solian stumbled back, heart pounding. His Observation Haki faltered and broke, and he was left winded. It wasn't perfect yet. The future he saw was a glittering, unstable thread — hard to grasp, harder to hold on to.
But it was something.
And in a fight, something could mean the difference between life and death.
A smile tugged at the corner of Solian's mouth. His body ached, his Solar Rift Fruit sapped his stamina with each heavy strike — but for the first time since the fight had begun, he glimpsed a way forward.
Green Bull's face clouded, his mouth twisting beneath the twisting vines. "You're getting arrogant, kid."
Vines erupted from the ground again, this time more pointed, faster — a forest of death blooming in seconds.
Solian did not step back.
He moved through them like light through glass, walking between each thrust and slash, each snarling whip and jagged root. Another close future vision seared before his senses — a vine wrapping around his ankle. He jumped early, somersaulting in midair, his heel brushing the trap instead of being caught.
Above the battlefield, the clouds broke, sunbeams stabbing through the chaos.
Solian inhaled, consuming the light as a starving man at a feast. His Solar Rift powers answered — warmth waved down his arms, afire with gold.
This time, he fought back.
A focused beam of plasma erupted from his hand, searing a tidy hole through the vine wall and into Green Bull's chest. The Admiral rocked backward slightly — not hurt badly, but forced to acknowledge that this boy was no minor upstart.
The rhythm of the battle shifted, imperceptibly at first.
Green Bull's swings grew tighter, more defensive. Solian's movements grew sharper, faster. It wasn't domination — not yet — but it wasn't a slaughter anymore, either.
They were fighting.
Actually fighting.
And around the courtyard, others were finding their own rhythms.
Kael ducked beneath the swing of a broadsword, blood streaming from a gash in his temple. He fired a series of small bombs at his opponent's shield, creating an opening just big enough to drive his fist into the man's belly. The Rear Admiral gasped and fell, stunned for the moment.
Kael fell to one knee, gasping, but grinned through bloodied teeth.
Nearby, Vance yelled like a madman, shoulder-blocking a soldier twice his size into a shattered wall. His fists were crimson, knuckles broken and bleeding, but still, he swung, punching down foe after foe like a human avalanche.
Smoke and dust hid the battlefield.
Screams, the clang of steel, the boom of gunfire.
Through it all, the crew Solian had gathered — his future commanders, his future brothers-in-arms — fought not like trained soldiers, but like cornered animals refusing to back down.
And somewhere, deep in Solian's chest, a new belief took root.
They were winning.
Not easily. Not without cost. But they were winning.
A heavy vine lashed out again — this one faster, edged with cruel thorns. Solian anticipated the future unfolding before him: a thrust to the ribs. No opportunity to avoid entirely.
He swayed just enough, the thorn tearing his side instead of spearing him. Pain seared through his body, but he didn't hesitate. Instead, he forged forward, fists ablaze with sunfire.
Green Bull's sword struck him with a crashing boom.
Shockwaves radiated outward, flattening the courtyard. Splinters of broken stone and dust and leaves burst into the air.
Solian stumbled back a few feet, boots gouging channels into the dirt. But when the smoke cleared, he was still standing — bleeding, breathing, burning.
And Green Bull. Green Bull's eyes tightened, the first hint of frustration seeping onto his face.
The tide was turning.
Slowly. Agonizingly. But it was turning.
Solian raised his head, wiping blood from his lips.
"I'm not. finished yet."
The sunlight above burned brighter, answering his prayer.