The sun was low in the sky, its light shrouded in smoke from the distant fires that burned. The waters of Dressrosa, once clean and clear, seethed dark with the leaving fleet of the World Government.
A dark, untamed beauty spread on the battlefield.
Earlier on, the Rear Admirals stood tall and resolute, commanding platoons of soldiers with iron will. Now, however, that pride was being eroded, trampled under the relentless siege of Dressrosa's new army — of soldiers who fought not in duty, but in loyalty towards home.
Rear Admiral T-Bone stood with sword raised and with blood streaming from a cut of shallowness on his forearm, bellowing rough commands in the chaos.
"Hold the line! Reform at the second defense—!"
A deafening crash cut him off, a cannonball slamming into the ground inches from him, shredding shrapnel and bodies through the air. His voice was lost in the screams and the chaos of gunfire.
Rear Admiral Stainless cursed beside him, cutting down a swordman charging towards him.
"They're not breaking… these peasants aren't breaking!"
Rear Admiral Dalmatian, his blood-red fur tangled at the joints of his hybrid frame, growled deep in his throat. Even his trained instincts could sense it — the battle was slipping away.
Along the blackened streets and broken alleys, the lower-grade Marines — there were thousands of them — began to falter. Some dropped their rifles and ran. Others struggled to maintain their positions, but the weight of Dressrosa's fury bore down more with every pounding heart.
Behind the palace walls, Milo stood atop a reinforced wall, rifle clutched in his hand, his sharp eyes scanning the retreat.
"They're breaking," he panted, hardly believing.
To his right, Kael reloaded his own weapon methodically, face set.
"No mercy. If they board the ships, they'll come back with more."
Milo nodded.
"Give the order."
The word went up — a solitary flare arcing across the sky in a burst of red light.
In seconds, a unified burst of gunfire boomed out of the Dressrosan defenses. Cannonballs and bullets poured down upon the retreating Marines, cutting through their ranks. Some men leaped into the sea, trying to swim to their ships. Others fell where they stood, trampled by their own men in the stampede.
The piers were a sheer chaos — a whirling mob of bodies, smoke, and shattered hopes.
During the tumult, Itachi moved as a specter.
A trickle of blood dripped from the end of his blade as he towered over Vice Admirals Onigumo and Doberman's unconscious forms. The battle had been intense — harder than he had expected — but in the end, they had not been able to hold a candle to him.
His newly awakened Armament Haki flowed through his arms, making the air before him distort imperceptibly, like heat haze. The fruit of months of brutal training.
Itachi slowly drew out his sword, eyes shining as he watched the battlefield from atop a crashed bell tower.
He saw the fear, the panic, the slaughter.
And felt none of them.
This was war — and war had no mercy.
Without a word, he turned and began to move down the street of rubble, a quiet sentinel marching toward the docks where the final stand would be made.
In the heart of the battlefield, where power itself seemed to distort the very air, Solian and Admiral Ryokugyu — Green Bull — engaged in a raging storm of energy.
Each blow quaked the earth, sending ripples through the rubble that surrounded them.
Solian took a deep breath, feeling the strange tinging pressure at the back of his eyes. It had started early in the fight — a flicker at the beginning, barely noticeable — but now it was growing by the second.
The future.
Tiny flashes. A jerk of the hand a fraction of a second before it happened. A shift of stance before the punch arrived.
Four seconds — maybe five — but in a monster fight, even that fraction of a second mattered.
When Green Bull bore down on him with a forest of needle-sharp spears, Solian dodged to the side almost lazily, the charge sweeping past inches from his nose.
When the Admiral charged again, the whiplashing vines, Solian ducked underneath them before the motion even began.
Green Bull's eyes grew narrower.
"You." the Admiral growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're seeing it, aren't you?"
Solian didn't answer. He was too focused — too deep in the flow of battle.
Instead, he moved forward, his fists cloaked in Armament Haki, delivering a crushing blow that sent Green Bull skidding backward across the broken plaza.
The Admiral slammed into a toppled fountain, shattering stone and sending water spraying high into the air.
Green Bull was seen for the first time. reserved.
Solian spat blood from his lips and stepped forward with no reserve.
The tide was turning.
At the wharfs, the other 10,000 Marine troopers fought to reach their ships. Gunfire rained down upon them from behind the city walls, defended; the sea flowed red with blood.
Rear Admiral T-Bone shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to mobilize the troops.
"To the ships! Fight to the last! For the honor of—!"
A bullet fired by a sniper struck him in the shoulder, causing him to spin around and fall to the knee.
Stainless and Dalmatian managed to lift him up, but even their own strength was faltering.
The realization crept into their bones like ice: they were losing.
Ships retreated from the quays half-full, leaving behind soldiers who were running, swimming, or fighting to survive in the sea.
Chaos. Suffering, crushing chaos.
And yet the shooting went on, relentless, pitiless.
Itachi stood still on a hillside overlooking the harbor, cloak billowing with the ocean wind.
He watched the retreat in silence, the power of Storm-Storm Fruit churning dimly around his hands.
He needn't have lifted a finger.
Dressrosa's warriors had learned. They had become strong.
And they would defend their hometown with no compassion.
Meanwhile, in the center of the city, Solian and Green Bull's battle became more fierce to a frenzy.
Roots and vines erupted out of the ground, trying to hold him back — but Solian had foreseen it. He unleashed a blazing Solar Rift blast, igniting a path through the Admiral's attack and making Green Bull leap aside.
The Admiral landed heavily, breathing hard.
"You should surrender," Green Bull said through gritted teeth. "You can't fight the whole world."
Solian smiled coldly, his Observation Haki thrumming, showing him the Admiral's tensed muscles, the tiny shifts in weight that preceded an attack.
"I'm not fighting the world," Solian said. "I'm building a new one."
He charged forward, fists ablaze, and the Admiral met him head-on.
Their struggle echoed as thunder through the broken city — but it was clear now.
The scales had swung.
Solian had won.
And Dressrosa still stood.