The water still steamed from the eruption of the Moby Dick and her sister ships when the second wave of Marine countermeasures began to fall into place.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, golden and immense in his Buddha form, stood like a divine sentinel at the forefront of Marineford Plaza, eyes blazing as he surveyed the battlefield. Flames of justice burned in his presence, not metaphorically, but literally. The divine power rippling off his form distorted the air, creating a halo effect that made subordinates shield their eyes when they approached him.
The first artillery barrage had done its work. Smoke clung to the bay's surface, masking visibility and disrupting formation cohesion among the pirate fleet. Even now, some commanders were reeling from the sonic flash grenades launched seconds before impact. Pirates stumbled on their decks, disoriented and vulnerable as the carefully orchestrated Marine assault continued without pause.
"Initiate Phase Two," Sengoku growled into the Den Den Mushi embedded in his palm. "Shellfall is green."
The world began to move like clockwork.
Three enormous steel compartments opened along Marineford's harbor walls. What emerged were not men but machines, a constellation of artillery barrels that gleamed in the morning sun. Each cannon was longer than a Buster Call warship, their muzzles aimed at precise coordinates across the bay.
Vice Admiral Onigumo, positioned at the central control tower, received Sengoku's command with a grim nod.
"All batteries, prepare for synchronized volley! Target zones seven through twelve!" His voice carried across the communication network. "Fire on my mark!"
Below deck, Marine gunners moved in unison, loading specialized shells into the massive cannons. These weren't ordinary munitions, they were Dr. Vegapunk's latest innovation. Sea Prism-tipped explosive rounds, designed to nullify Devil Fruit abilities upon detonation.
"Three! Two! One! FIRE!"
The harbor wall erupted with blinding light as dozens of cannons discharged simultaneously. The shells arced high over the battlefield, trailing smoke like vengeful comets.
Aboard the Moby Dick, Haruta, Whitebeard's Twelfth Division Commander, spotted the barrage first. Her eyes widened as she calculated the trajectory.
"INCOMING!" she screamed, drawing her sword and pointing skyward. "THEY'RE TARGETING OUR FLANKS!"
Whitebeard himself looked up, his weathered face creasing with concentration. With a growl, he raised one massive hand, preparing to shatter the incoming shells with his quake powers, but the rounds were already splitting in mid-air, breaking into hundreds of smaller projectiles.
"It's a cluster attack!" Marco shouted. "They're forcing us to disperse!"
Too late. The shells detonated in a devastating pattern across the pirate alliance's forward position. Sea Prism dust rained down, causing Devil Fruit users to falter and weaken as they inhaled the particulate. The carefully maintained formation that had survived the first barrage now disintegrated into chaos.
Marco rose like a phoenix from the inferno, wings aflame with blue fire. His keen eyes scanned the aerial field; too calm, too ordered.
Something's wrong.
Then came the beam.
A line of golden light sliced past his shoulder, barely missing his neck. His body twisted midair, the wound already sealing as he turned with a snarl.
"Kizaru."
Borsalino hovered above the southeast tower, boots light on the air itself, a glimmering beam forming in his fingertips. "Ooooh~ you're fast, birdie~ But are you faster than light?"
He vanished. Marco barely dodged the next beam. But he wasn't the target.
From below, a shock echoed through the smoke-cloaked plaza.
CRACK!
Diamond Jozu, hulking and plated in glittering diamond armor, skidded back as another Pacifista, hidden until the last moment, unleashed a barrage of repulsor blasts. A coordinated ambush, timed and brutal.
Vice Admiral Yamakaji stepped up behind the defensive barricades, barking orders to the incoming Marine reinforcements. "Keep suppressive fire on the eastern slope! Push them toward the ice front!"
Sengoku had made his call: Marco would be distracted. Jozu would be neutralized.
The plan was working.
Jozu roared in defiance, transforming his entire right arm into diamond. Light refracted off his crystalline form as he charged the mechanical weapon. The Pacifista adjusted, calculating the optimal firing solution, but Jozu was already airborne, a gleaming missile of indestructible carbon.
"BRILLIANT PUNK!"
His diamond forearm connected with the Pacifista's chest, the impact creating a shockwave that cleared the smoke for fifty meters in all directions. Metal crumpled inward, synthetic flesh tore, and circuitry sparked, but the machine wasn't destroyed. Instead, it grabbed Jozu's arm with both hands, laser charging in its maw at point-blank range.
That's when Vista's rose-petal blades severed the Pacifista's head in a whirlwind of steel.
"They're coordinating too well!" Vista shouted, landing beside the diamond man. "Every move we make, they've prepared for it!"
Jozu nodded grimly, flexing his diamond hand. "Pops knows. We need to.."
Another golden beam lanced between them, separating the commanders as Marco crashed into the plaza deck nearby, smoke rising from his regenerating form.
"They're herding us," Marco snarled, wings reforming in azure flame. "Kizaru isn't fighting to win, he's controlling the air, forcing us to move where they want us."
Above them, Borsalino reappeared, finger pointing lazily downward. "My, my~ Such perceptive birds~"
On the eastern flank, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Namur, the Eighth Division Commander and fishman warrior, found his aquatic forces cut off from the main assault. A wall of ice had materialized without warning, separating his specialized underwater troops from supporting the main push.
"Aokiji," Namur hissed, webbed hands clenching into fists as he spotted the languid Admiral standing on a newly formed ice bridge.
Kuzan regarded him with half-lidded eyes. "Nothing personal, fish-man. Just the tides of justice."
He touched his palm to the water's surface, and another wave of ice spread outward, encasing three pirate ships and their crews in an instant glacier. The fishman pirates dove beneath the surface, but even there, tendrils of freezing water pursued them like hungry predators.
Namur narrowed his eyes. Aokiji wasn't usually this aggressive or precise. Something had changed in the Admirals' tactics, all of them seemed sharper, more focused than in previous encounters.