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The room was dimly lit, a heavy silence hanging in the air. A large round table dominated the space, around which sat an eclectic group of people, each an iconic figure from different corners of the world. Shanks, Sengoku, Garp, Big Mom, Katakuri, Perospero, Kaido, King, Whitebeard, Marco, and Izo. Their faces reflected a mix of confusion, suspicion, and unease, as they exchanged uncertain glances. In the center of the table, a hologram screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow over the scene.
Big Mom, her immense frame towering over the table, furrowed her brows. "What the hell? Why am I here?" Her voice boomed, filled with frustration.
The hologram screen pulsed, then projected an image of a weathered stone with intricate carvings. A voice, mechanical yet strangely authoritative, echoed through the room.
"You are here because, back in the day, Roger, before his death, discovered a rock that was no ordinary stone. It was an artifact, and Roger, ever the trickster, jokingly spoke to it, saying, 'Gather a bunch of people and play a game about revealing a future.'"
The voice paused, as if savoring the absurdity of the situation. "And now, you are all gathered here. You will remain for the next ten hours."
Kaido grunted, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Even dead, Roger still manages to stir up trouble."
The screen flickered again, this time showing an image of the stone as it slowly began to crack, revealing a swirling, ethereal light.
"The game," the voice continued, "is simple. Each of you will choose one word. In return, I will reveal a scene from the future connected to that word. There is no limit to how many times you can ask. Choose wisely."
Marco leaned back in his chair, skepticism painted on his face. "A future? But if you reveal it now, won’t it mess with the future itself? Things won’t turn out the same way."
King, his sharp eyes narrowed, added, "Yeah, if we see a future now, won’t it be the future that the screen shows? That means it’s already set in stone."
Big Mom scoffed. "So, this 'future' thing isn’t even reliable. What a load of nonsense."
Shanks sat quietly, his brow furrowed as he processed the implications of the game. Revealing a future…? he thought, the weight of the situation pressing on him. There might be a chance to uncover something that could change the course of everything... but at what cost? He couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of unease.
And among all these people, I certainly have my own secrets. Shanks clenched his fist, knowing that the game would reveal more than just futures—it would reveal pieces of their pasts, too. This is going to be a headache.
Shanks furrowed his brow, the weight of the situation settling deeper within him. Choosing a word and having the screen reveal a future related to it... His thoughts raced. That’s pretty vague. There’s no way to know exactly what the screen will show or how it will interpret a word. Its definition could stretch across meanings, opening doors to scenes I’d rather not witness. A harmless word could reveal something terrible…
He couldn’t afford to play recklessly. His mind shifted gears quickly, formulating a strategy to find out more about the artifact.
He leaned forward, addressing the screen. "So, what is your purpose, then? What’s the reason you exist?"
The screen pulsed once more, its voice reverberating with mechanical certainty. "My purpose is to reveal the truth."
"Truth?" Shanks muttered, deep in thought. That’s an interesting answer.
"How are you going to reveal the truth?" he asked aloud, hoping to push for more details.
The screen responded without hesitation. "I will show a scene that happens in the future."
Shanks’ mind turned, processing the implications. A scene? He nodded slowly, but the suspicion gnawed at him. There was something off about the whole situation. He needed to dig deeper.
"That scene in the future..." Shanks continued, his tone more probing now. "Are you going to reveal it from one person's point of view? Through the lens of one individual?"
The screen responded with unwavering clarity. "Yes."
Shanks stiffened, a cold shiver running down his spine. That’s dangerous... He knew exactly what the artifact could uncover. If it showed events through someone’s perspective, that meant their thoughts, their intentions, their private revelations would be exposed to everyone in the room. What if it reveals my own thought process? What if it shows everything about the Holy Knights?
His eyes narrowed, realization hitting him like a brick. His secrets, his most guarded beliefs—everything about his role in the Holy Knights could be laid bare. The intricacies of his plans, the depths of his loyalty, everything he worked so hard to keep hidden would come to light.
Shanks exhaled sharply, his voice calm but resolute. "Then that’s not the truth," he declared.
Izo's voice cut through the tension, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, 'it’s not the truth'?" he asked, clearly trying to understand Shanks' reasoning.
Shanks leaned back slightly, his hands resting on the edge of the table, his tone measured but firm. "Showing only one side of a perspective isn’t the full picture. It’s not the truth; it’s just a biased perspective," he explained. His gaze never left the flickering screen, as if searching for some flaw in its logic.
He turned back to face the screen, narrowing his eyes. "So, what do you think truth actually means?"
The screen pulsed again, as if processing the question carefully. "The truth encompasses all that happens in the future—both the bad and the good. It is a balance of the universe."
Shanks smirked, though it was tinged with unease. So, this thing is trying to paint a picture of 'balance,' he thought. But that balance could mean one person’s good fortune and another’s ruin.
"So basically," Shanks said aloud, "the screen will show a scene from the future based on one person’s perspective... and in that scene, good things might happen for some, while bad things happen to others. You’ll never see a completely good future, just fragments of it through the eyes of one individual."
The room was silent for a moment as everyone processed the implications of Shanks' words. Kaido, his usual indifference softened by surprise, was the first to speak. "I didn’t know you were this smart, Shanks," he said, his tone laced with genuine respect.
Shanks shrugged casually, his expression unreadable. "This is just common sense," he replied. "Is this your first time living in the Grand Line?" His voice carried the weight of experience, as if to say that navigating the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line required understanding the balance of fate and free will.
Kaido grunted, clearly unamused but slightly impressed. "Hmph. I’ve been around long enough to know that nothing is ever that simple."
Izo crossed his arms, his expression still skeptical as he processed Shanks' words. "So, what’s the big deal? If we’re careful with it, what harm could this screen really do?"
Marco, who had been quietly listening, spoke up with a touch of concern. "This thing has the potential to air some dirty laundry, you know. It could expose things we’d rather stay hidden."
Big Mom, ever blunt, scoffed. "If you’ve got nothing to hide, you don’t need to worry about anything."
But Garp, ever impatient, slapped his hand down on the table. "Let’s just get over this. We’re wasting time. Let’s choose a word already."
Shanks sat there, his mind working furiously as he weighed the situation. It’s impossible to convince everyone not to use this screen, he thought to himself. Even if the secrecy of the Holy Knights isn’t a concern here, knowing the future like this is dangerous. Even if you understand that it’s a biased perspective, you’ll still be subconsciously influenced by it. You’ll try to change all your decisions to cater to that future, forgetting that it's not guaranteed to happen. You’ll lose sight of the bigger picture. That’s the consequence of knowing the future—it’s not just the future itself, but how it changes you, how it distorts your decisions.
He felt a deep unease settle in his chest. This thing shouldn’t exist. It can destroy people, distort their perception of the world. Even if it shows a future based on multiple lenses of perspective, the principle remains the same. You’ll be chasing a future that might never come. It’s better to destroy it. Knowing the truth isn’t that simple—it’s a dangerous path, and if you’re not ready, it can destroy you and everyone around you.
The voice of the screen suddenly cut through his thoughts, its mechanical tone carrying an almost mocking edge. "Shanks, you want to destroy me?"
Shanks smirked, meeting the screen’s gaze. "You can read my mind? Then you must be able to read everyone’s mind in this room."
The screen was silent for a moment, as if considering his words. "Why do you think I should not exist?" it asked, its voice tinged with a hint of something that could almost be interpreted as curiosity.
Shanks leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with resolve. "Simply put, you’re just a tool. You’re not alive. You’re not human. And the consequences of your existence won’t be felt by you. But they’ll be felt by us—the people who are foolish enough to rely on you."
The screen’s response was almost immediate. "No, I was created to reveal the truth. I have a reason to exist."
Shanks shook his head slowly, his gaze hardening. "A tool is a tool, no matter how much you justify your existence. Tools don’t feel the consequences of their actions. People do." He paused, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the room. "And when those consequences destroy us, you won’t be there to pick up the pieces. No one will. That’s why you can’t exist."
The screen’s voice carried a hint of sarcasm, its mechanical tone almost amused. "How curious," it said. "It’s rare to meet a human like you. Most people would scramble to use me for their own gain. No one cares how the truth will affect others, only how it benefits them. Humans are selfish individuals after all."
Shanks leaned back slightly, his gaze unyielding. "You still want to let humans use you, despite knowing they’re selfish?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.
The screen responded in its usual detached manner, "Their bad consequences are because of them, not me. I’m just a tool."
Shanks' eyes narrowed, a sharp edge to his tone. "A tool doesn’t have a sense of responsibility."
The screen seemed to pause for a moment, as if considering his words. "I’m just doing my job, fulfilling the purpose of my existence," it replied, almost as though it were trying to convince itself.
At that, Sengoku spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension. "I didn’t know you were this philosophical, Shanks," he said, his tone tinged with amusement, though there was a trace of seriousness beneath it.
Shanks turned his eyes back to the screen, his voice calm but pointed. "How long have you existed, anyway?" he asked, genuinely curious despite the tension in the room.
The screen's voice was as detached as ever. "I have existed since the Void Century."
Whitebeard, who had been silent up until now, raised an eyebrow. "Void Century?" he muttered, not sure whether to press the issue or leave it.
Shanks' smirk deepened, a glint of mockery in his tone. "So you're that old already. Aren’t you tired of just… existing?"
The screen responded almost mechanically, as though the question had no weight to it. "As long as I have my purpose, I will continue to exist until I achieve all my purpose."
Shanks leaned forward, his gaze unyielding. "Achieve all your purpose?" he echoed, a challenge in his words. "Your purpose is so abstract. How would you even know when it’s ended?"
The screen seemed to pause, its response slightly slower, as though grappling with the concept. "My purpose is to reveal the truth, and to show what is to come. It does not end until the truth is fully understood and accepted."
Shanks' expression remained firm as he looked at the screen, his voice cutting through the tension. "It does not end until the truth is fully understood and accepted. And how many people so far have fully understood and accepted your truth?" he asked, his tone skeptical.
The screen answered, its voice unwavering. "None so far… except you."
Shanks blinked, caught off guard by the response. "Me? How come? I don’t even use you," he retorted, a bit of confusion lacing his words.
The screen responded almost matter-of-factly, "You already understood the weight of truth even before it was revealed."
Shanks stood tall, his eyes locked onto the glowing screen as his voice cut through the tension, "Can you be claimed?"
The screen responded, its eerie light flickering briefly, "I am only worthy of those who prove themselves deserving."
Shanks, undeterred, smirked. "So, have you ever met anyone worthy? Do they accept ownership over you?"
The screen's reply was almost regretful, "All the worthy beings I have met have refused to claim me."
Shanks tilted his head, his tone curious yet confident, "Do you think I'm worthy of you?"
Kaido, growing impatient, bellowed from across the room, his eyes narrowing. "What’s the meaning of this, Shanks? You want to claim this thing for yourself?"
But Shanks ignored Kaido, his focus still on the screen. "I promise I won't destroy you if I claim you," he said firmly, his words carrying a promise of respect.
The screen paused for a moment before its voice, almost reluctant, responded, "Alright, I accept your claim of me."
A slight grin spread across Shanks' face, the excitement of the unknown surging within him. "So, can you get us all back to our timeline now?"
The screen’s response was calm, yet final. "I can transport you all to one place at the same time."
Shanks’ gaze swept over the group, the weight of their situation pressing in. "Transport us to a random uninhabited island in the middle of Paradise," he instructed, his voice unwavering.
The screen flickered once more, and with a hum of energy, the air around them shifted. The world blurred, and before anyone could protest, they found themselves hurtling through time and space, landing with a soft thud on the unfamiliar island. The chaos of their current world seemed far away now, replaced by the stillness of the remote location.
The island stretched before them, untouched by the hand of civilization, its lush greenery and unspoiled beauty a stark contrast to the world they had just left behind.
Shanks stood there, the eerie stillness of the island surrounding him, his mind racing. He thought to himself, Well, I managed to avoid the disaster of the Holy Knight secrecy getting revealed… for now. He glanced at the rock in his hand, holding it up to the sunlight, its surface rough and unassuming. "Eh, you certainly look like a simple rock," he muttered, his words tinged with humor.
But before he could contemplate further, Big Mom’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory. "You, Shanks! How dare you claim that treasure for yourself? That thing can reveal the future... I can use it to avoid a bad fate!"
Kaido, his usual confidence cracking into anger, snarled from beside her. "You, Shanks... how dare you claim it for yourself... I didn’t even get the chance to use it."
Shanks' eyes narrowed as he held the rock up between them, his voice dripping with disdain. "You two aren’t even worthy of this thing. Why are you even bothering?"
Big Mom, not one to back down, retorted fiercely, "Worthy or not, I still have a chance to use it for ten hours. That’s more than enough!"
Shanks grinned, his hand tightening around the rock. "You two really want this artifact, huh?" His voice dropped to a low growl. "Then come and fight me for it."
A heavy silence fell over the group, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere, Shanks unleashed a wave of Conqueror’s Haki. The island seemed to tremble under its force, the sheer pressure of his will crashing down on everyone present.
The tension on the island was almost unbearable, as Shanks’ Conqueror’s Haki filled the air like a storm ready to unleash. On the sidelines, Sengoku, Garp, Whitebeard, Izo, and Marco watched in a mixture of confusion and awe, still reeling from the sudden event that had unfolded before them.
Marco, his eyes fixed on Shanks, let out a soft sigh. "Shanks is certainly bold."
Garp, arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face, narrowed his gaze toward the confrontation. "How curious," he muttered. "It’s like Shanks has things to hide... by claiming that artifact, no one aside from him, or by his permission, can use it to see the future."
Sengoku, who had been silently observing, furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it all. "What’s there to hide?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with suspicion.
Whitebeard, his massive frame looming, chuckled softly. "And that brat... all this talk about the consequences of truths. I never pegged him as someone so philosophical." He paused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "And he even understood that artifact's true nature by merely asking a few questions. He's sharper than people give him credit for."
Izo, ever the observant one, nodded slowly. "I’d say he’s too sharp," he said, his tone edged with awe. "I mean, he managed to see through that artifact’s real facade in such a short amount of time. He even wanted to destroy it earlier, but... well, that didn’t work."
Marco smirked. "But he couldn’t destroy it because Big Mom and Kaido certainly wouldn’t agree to that. So, he tried to claim it instead... and it worked. Because he’s the only one who understands the weight of knowing the truth. Even the artifact said so."
Sengoku frowned, his mind turning the pieces over. "So, he truly knew what he was getting into. He wasn’t just trying to claim power—he was trying to control it, to protect himself from the consequences of what it could reveal."
Garp’s expression darkened as he observed Shanks’ unwavering stance. "What’s he trying to hide that he doesn’t even mind fighting Big Mom and Kaido like this?" he muttered under his breath, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and growing concern. "What’s his deal? He looks like he doesn’t even mind sacrificing his life to protect his so-called secret. As long as that artifact that can reveal the future doesn’t fall into anyone else’s hands..."
Sengoku’s eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm as he processed Garp’s words. "Shanks is not one to throw his life away recklessly," he remarked, his voice calm but firm. "If he’s willing to go this far, then there’s something even deeper at play here. He’s always been the type to weigh the cost of his actions carefully. If he’s putting himself at risk like this, it means the stakes are higher than any of us realize."
Whitebeard's rough chuckle rumbled through the group, his massive form unyielding as he watched Shanks. "The brat’s got guts, I’ll give him that," he said with a wry smile. "But this isn’t about guts, it’s about understanding something most of us can’t even begin to grasp. That artifact—whatever it is—holds more power than even Kaido and Big Mom realize. Maybe more than Shanks is willing to admit. He’s not doing this because of some treasure. He’s doing it to protect something far bigger."
Izo glanced at Whitebeard, his expression thoughtful. "So, you’re saying Shanks understands the consequences of knowing the future, that it's not just about power?" His voice was filled with skepticism but tinged with respect. "That artifact could change everything... if it’s used the wrong way."
Marco spoke up, his voice a mix of admiration and concern. "Shanks doesn’t just want to protect the artifact. He wants to protect everyone from what it could show. Some truths are better left hidden. If the wrong people get their hands on it, they could change the course of history. And Shanks knows that."
Garp’s eyes sharpened as he considered the situation more deeply. "You know," he said, his voice low, "I think there’s something deeper at play here. I don’t think Shanks is merely aware of the consequences of truth and is willing to fight Big Mom and Kaido over it. There’s something he’s hiding... something personal to him. He doesn’t want that secret revealed by that artifact. He doesn’t want anyone else to know."
Sengoku tilted his head, the gears in his mind turning as he processed Garp's words. "A personal secret, huh?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. "That could change things. If it's something personal, then it might be tied to his actions, his motives... something that defines him. That’s why he’s so protective of it."
Izo, ever the perceptive one, looked toward the confrontation, his mind working through the implications. "What kind of secret is he hiding?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "This doesn’t seem like the kind of secret that’s about dirty laundry or past mistakes. It’s more... it's like it’s connected to his goal or his conviction. Something that would be ruined if outsiders knew about it. Maybe something so integral to him that it would shatter his foundation."
Marco crossed his arms, staring at Shanks as if trying to see into the depths of his soul. "If it’s something like that, then it’s more than just pride. This isn’t about ego or reputation. Shanks is usually open about his ideals, but this... this is something he’s willing to die for, just to protect it from falling into the wrong hands."
Whitebeard, his voice rumbling like thunder, spoke again, his gaze never leaving Shanks. "A conviction so strong, so personal, that he’s willing to face Kaido and Big Mom. That’s the kind of thing that changes a man. Maybe even defines him." His massive fist clenched, the veins on his hand bulging. "You’re right, Izo. This isn’t about power or treasure. There’s a reason Shanks understands the consequences of this artifact... and maybe it's tied to something deeper than any of us realize."
Garp’s eyes flicked back to Shanks, still standing firm, his presence unwavering even in the face of two of the world’s most dangerous individuals. "Whatever it is," Garp said with a grim smile, "Shanks isn’t just guarding a secret. He’s guarding something that could shatter everything he believes in if anyone else learns about it."
Sengoku frowned, his expression tightening as he glanced between the Yonko and Shanks. "And if that’s the case, then we might not be the only ones who want to know what that secret is. Kaido and Big Mom, they don’t just want the artifact—they want what it can reveal about the future. And if they’re after Shanks’ secret, that could be the real catalyst for this fight."
Izo turned his gaze back to the confrontation, his expression troubled. "If that’s true... then things are about to get a lot messier. Because if Shanks is protecting something personal—something connected to his very being—then no one will stop him from keeping it hidden, even if it means going to war."
The air around Shanks crackled with a tension that seemed to weigh down on the entire island, his Conqueror’s Haki radiating out in waves that made it almost impossible for anyone to move without effort. The sheer pressure was unlike anything Kaido and Big Mom had ever experienced. Each breath felt heavier, each step more labored, as if Shanks' will alone was crushing them underfoot. His movements were deliberate, precise, and unlike the usual relaxed, carefree nature they had grown accustomed to.
Kaido, who had faced the fiercest of battles, narrowed his eyes in disbelief as he staggered under the force of Shanks' Haki. His massive frame, usually unyielding to any form of intimidation, now seemed to struggle. "You really gonna eliminate both of us?" he growled, his voice tinged with an edge of genuine confusion. "For a mere artifact that can see the future?"
Big Mom, who had been relentless in her pursuit of power, stared at Shanks with a mixture of frustration and growing concern. "This is getting ridiculous, Shanks!" she shouted. "That artifact can benefit everyone! Imagine the power it holds—why fight us over something that could change the world?"
But Shanks didn’t respond. His eyes locked on them with an intensity that neither of them had ever seen before. There was no time for words. His strikes were faster than lightning, each one precise, calculated, as if his every move was a promise of destruction. His blade cut through the air, sending shockwaves that threatened to knock them off balance.
Kaido swung his club with a ferocity born from years of dominance, but it was blocked by Shanks’ sword with an almost casual ease, though the force of the collision sent a violent tremor through the ground. Big Mom launched a barrage of powerful energy blasts, but Shanks dodged effortlessly, moving with a grace and speed that seemed to defy his usually laid-back demeanor.
"Shanks... this isn't you," Big Mom shouted, her voice shaking slightly as she launched another attack. "You’ve always been reckless and carefree. What’s really driving you now? What’s in that artifact that makes you act like this?"
But Shanks didn’t answer. His eyes were filled with a cold determination, his every action speaking volumes more than any words could. The power he wielded wasn’t just from his Conqueror’s Haki—it was the resolve to protect something, something personal and untouchable. He was fighting not for power, but to guard a secret that could tear apart the very foundation of his existence.
Kaido let out a roar of frustration as he attempted to unleash his full strength, but even his usual overwhelming presence seemed diminished under the weight of Shanks’ will. "You really think you can keep this up?" Kaido bellowed, his voice filled with incredulity. "Against both of us? You’re not even fighting like a pirate anymore!"
Shanks' response was nothing more than the silent fury in his eyes as he moved once more, every strike infused with the will to prevent that secret from being exposed, no matter the cost.
The two Yonko, accustomed to overwhelming their foes, now found themselves struggling just to keep pace with Shanks' intensity. His usual lighthearted nature had been replaced by a ferocity that was utterly terrifying. This was a Shanks neither of them had ever seen, and it was more intimidating than any threat they had ever faced.
The tension in the air continued to mount as the battle raged on, with every movement from Shanks sending ripples of pressure that threatened to level the entire island. The ground cracked under the force of his blows, and the sky above seemed to darken with the weight of his will. Even those on the sidelines—Garp, Sengoku, Whitebeard, Izo, and Marco—struggled to stand firm, their bodies trembling under the intensity of Shanks’ Conqueror’s Haki.
Garp, his face set in a grim expression, gritted his teeth as he tried to steady himself. “Damn brat... he’s serious,” he muttered, his hands tightening into fists. The air around him vibrated with Shanks’ overwhelming presence, and for a moment, even the legendary Marine vice-admiral found himself second-guessing his own stance.
Sengoku, his mind racing with the gravity of the situation, took a deep breath and quickly reached for his Den Den Mushi. His voice was sharp as he barked into it. “We’ve got a serious situation here. Shanks is going toe-to-toe with Big Mom and Kaido. We don’t know how this will end. Get the backup here now.”
On the other end of the line, a Marine officer’s voice came back, frantic. “Understood, Fleet Admiral! We’ll send reinforcements immediately!”
Meanwhile, Whitebeard, standing tall as ever despite the oppressive pressure of Shanks’ Haki, narrowed his eyes in thought. “Is that brat really going to eliminate Big Mom and Kaido here?” His voice, though deep and rumbling, betrayed the uncertainty he felt. Even he, with all his strength and experience, could sense the immense danger in Shanks’ movements.
Izo, standing at his side, shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve never seen Shanks like this. Sooner or later, this island will be destroyed if this keeps up.”
Marco, his wings spread slightly as he fought to stay upright against the onslaught of willpower, glanced at Whitebeard. “We need to get out of here,” he said, his voice strained. “This is bigger than we thought.”
A quick decision was made. Marco called out to Whitebeard’s other ships, ordering them to move toward the island. “Get the ships here now, we need to leave!” Marco’s wings flared with urgency as he adjusted to the pressure, struggling to maintain his balance.
At the same time, on the other side of the island, King, Perospero, and Katakuri stood off to the side, watching the fight unfold with a mix of disbelief and frustration. King’s eyes flicked to the others, and with a sharp motion, he pulled out his Den Den Mushi. “Get our ships here now,” he ordered coldly, his voice tinged with worry. “We need reinforcements, and fast.”
Perospero, his usual smirk replaced with a rare look of concern, did the same, contacting his forces. “Mama and Kaido are fighting Shanks... the situation is too unstable. Get here, now!” His voice was laced with urgency, his normally composed demeanor shaken by the intensity of the confrontation.
But despite their efforts to call for backup, it was clear that the situation was far beyond anyone’s control. Shanks’ sheer resolve and overwhelming Conqueror’s Haki were making even the mightiest of beings like Kaido and Big Mom appear weak in comparison.
The sky above them seemed to crackle with energy, the tension palpable, as Shanks' next move loomed closer. The island shook with each strike, each clash of wills, as the battle between the three most powerful pirates in the world escalated further.
The tension on the island had reached a boiling point. The forces of the Marines, Beast Pirates, Big Mom Pirates, and Whitebeard Pirates were all scrambling toward the island, aware that a war was brewing—one that could shift the balance of power in the world.
On the battlefield, Shanks stood tall, his presence an unyielding force. Beneath him lay both Kaido and Big Mom, sprawled on the ground, their immense bodies trembling as they struggled to rise. The power of Shanks' Conqueror's Haki was suffocating, pressing them down, making it impossible for them to move. It was as though the very weight of his will was holding them in place, their once unassailable pride reduced to nothing.
Kaido's golden eyes burned with fury, though they were dulled by the oppressive pressure surrounding him. “Damn you,” he growled, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “What’s so important about that artifact anyway? What are you hiding?” His fists clenched, but he could do nothing more than lie there, helpless under Shanks' crushing aura. "Eliminate me if you dare.”
Shanks' eyes darkened, and a sinister calm spread over his features. He began walking slowly towards Kaido, each step purposeful, as though he was walking towards an inevitable end. “You think I wouldn’t dare?” he said in a low, eerie voice. His presence grew even more imposing with each step. “You’re not that important, Kaido. You can be replaced. Do you want to be replaced?”
Kaido’s heart skipped a beat. The words felt like ice, cold and unyielding. He stared at Shanks, realizing that the man before him wasn’t the carefree pirate he once knew. There was no warmth, no camaraderie, just a relentless will. The tension between them crackled, and the sheer force of Shanks’ gaze was enough to make Kaido reconsider his stance. For the first time in years, he felt something resembling fear.
Meanwhile, Big Mom, who had been trying to rise alongside Kaido, could no longer hide the terror that gripped her. She had been many things—fearsome, ruthless, invincible in her own right—but facing Shanks in this moment was unlike anything she had ever encountered. His presence was suffocating, and his gaze was that of a predator closing in on its prey. The way he had spoken to Kaido, as though dealing with something beneath him, had made Big Mom realize just how out of her depth she truly was.
Her voice faltered as she looked up at Shanks. “Alright... I admit defeat,” she said, her usual bravado replaced by an unwilling submission. “I won’t come after you for the artifact.”
Shanks didn’t even spare her a glance. His gaze remained fixed on Kaido, who was still struggling to move beneath the weight of Shanks’ will. It was as if the battle had already ended, and now Shanks was waiting for Kaido to make his next move. The air around them thickened with an unnatural silence, as though time itself had frozen, and Shanks was the only one in control.
Big Mom’s words had barely registered to him. In his eyes, Kaido was the only one who mattered now. The island trembled once more as the air around Shanks pulsed with an eerie, palpable tension. It was as though he were a ghost, waiting for Kaido to make the wrong move—a wrong move that would seal his fate.
Kaido glared at Shanks, trying to rise one more time, but the pressure from Shanks’ Conqueror's Haki kept him down. His pride, his fury, and his immense strength all came to nothing against this one man. The battle was lost. He had been beaten not by force, but by sheer will.
The world seemed to hold its breath as Kaido stared into the unblinking eyes of Shanks, knowing that one wrong move could be his end.
Shanks' unblinking gaze remained fixed on Kaido, his presence an impenetrable wall of overwhelming will. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the island itself were holding its breath, waiting for the next move. His voice cut through the silence, cold and devoid of any mercy. “You can go, Big Mom.”
The moment the words left his lips, Big Mom, who had been frozen under Shanks' Conqueror's Haki, suddenly felt the weight lift. The suffocating pressure released its grip, and she could finally move again. Her eyes flicked toward Kaido one last time, but she wasted no time in turning away, her usual prideful demeanor replaced with a pragmatic decision to escape. Without further ado, she made her way toward Perospero and Katakuri, quickly regrouping with them. In a flash, Big Mom and her crew disappeared from the battlefield, leaving Kaido alone.
Kaido’s eyes widened in disbelief, his heart filled with a searing anger as he felt Big Mom’s departure. Her sudden retreat was an insult, a betrayal in his eyes. The weight of the moment sank in—the ruthless way Shanks had made her back down, and now, the silence in the air left him with a hollow sense of abandonment.
Shanks took a deliberate step closer to Kaido. His voice, low and ominous, rang out once more. “You only have Wano,” he said, his words slicing through the tension like a blade. “Wano is not that important, Kaido. It never breached the gates to the world. It’s a closed-off land. Whether you exist or not, things would remain the same. You’re not Big Mom. You’re not Whitebeard. You have no influence in this world.”
Kaido’s heart sank with each word. He had always prided himself on his strength, on his claim to Wano, and on his dream of conquering the world. But now, here he was, helpless beneath the weight of Shanks' will, with his own significance being torn away with every sentence. There was nothing left for him to say, nothing that could repair the crushing reality of Shanks’ words.
Shanks leaned in closer, his voice becoming even more chilling. “Should I eliminate you? Tell me, Kaido... do you want to die this much?”
Kaido’s breath quickened, his defiance now reduced to something distant. The rage in his chest boiled, but it was laced with a new kind of fear—the fear that he had underestimated the strength of Shanks, the fear that he had been nothing more than a pawn in a game he could not understand.
The battle, the pride, the fury—it all felt insignificant now. Shanks had broken through the layers of Kaido’s defense with nothing more than his words, his will, and his presence.
Kaido was left trembling beneath the weight of Shanks’ gaze, knowing that any moment could be his last.
The Marine's Den Den Mushi surveillance system had been carefully monitoring the chaos unfolding on the island. The moment Shanks' words to Big Mom rang out and the pirates’ retreat began, the system captured every detail—Shanks’ calm dismissal of Big Mom, the oppressive aura he unleashed, and his chilling confrontation with Kaido. The words he spoke were undeniable, broadcast for all to hear, and the impact of them spread like wildfire through the Marine ranks.
“You only have Wano,” Shanks’ voice echoed through the comms, clear and authoritative. “Wano is not that important, Kaido. It never breached the gates to the world. It’s a closed-off land. Whether you exist or not, things would remain the same. You’re not Big Mom. You’re not Whitebeard. You have no influence in this world.”
"Should I eliminate you? Tell me, Kaido... do you want to die this much?"
The message was crisp, its implications massive. Sengoku and Garp, already preparing to board the Marine's backup ship, received the transmission almost immediately. Both men exchanged a look, their expressions grim. The words Shanks had spoken were damning, not just for Kaido but for the entire pirate world. Shanks wasn’t simply making a point to Kaido—he was openly asserting dominance over the very fabric of the pirate hierarchy, dismissing Kaido’s claim to power with brutal finality.
“What the hell is Shanks doing?” Sengoku muttered under his breath, his voice tight. The Fleet Admiral was no stranger to the weight of power, but the implications of Shanks’ behavior were something altogether new. There was a certain eerie calmness to Shanks’ words that made it clear he wasn’t just interested in battle; he was interested in reshaping the very structure of the world.
Meanwhile, on the approaching backup ships, Whitebeard, Izo, and Marco had managed to hijack the Marine's Den Den Mushi feed. The Marine forces had underestimated the cunning of the Whitebeard Pirates, and in this moment, they found themselves watching the same scene that Sengoku and Garp were witnessing.
Whitebeard, his face stern, leaned over the deck of his ship, eyes locked on the scene where Shanks stood towering over Kaido. His massive form trembled slightly, not from the pressure of Shanks' aura but from something else—recognition. He understood that this wasn’t just a fight between two pirates; this was something much larger. Shanks was making a statement, one that could alter the course of everything.
“Damn that man...” Whitebeard muttered, his voice barely above a growl. "He’s playing a dangerous game."
Izo and Marco exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension in the air. The Whitebeard Pirates were known for their loyalty and camaraderie, but even they could feel the weight of what Shanks had just done. The betrayal that Kaido must have felt would be nothing compared to the coming ripple effect. Shanks had just dismissed one of the most powerful pirates in the world with a few words, and that could lead to far-reaching consequences.
As Big Mom scrambled to her ships, her crew already sailing far from the island, her eyes were wide with an unusual fear. She hadn’t expected Shanks to act so decisively, so coldly. She had retreated, but she was not relieved. Her hands clenched into fists, the truth of Shanks' words ringing in her ears. She had been beaten not by strength, but by willpower, by a man who understood that the real battle was fought in the mind, not the body.
Big Mom watched the screen of her Den Den Mushi, which had somehow been hijacked by Whitebeard’s forces. She saw the same recording, and it confirmed what she feared most—Shanks was in control.
On her ship, Perospero and Katakuri exchanged glances, their faces hard. They had seen their captain retreat many times, but this felt different. They understood the power of a pirate’s pride, and it was clear now that Shanks was someone whose ambition could not be ignored.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Perospero muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the horizon. “Shanks... is a force unto himself.”
Back at the Marine’s Den Den Mushi station, Garp, always the man of action, slammed his fist on the table. "So he’s making a move now, huh?" he said with a smirk. "Shanks... he’s something else."
Sengoku looked contemplative. “This isn’t just about Big Mom or Kaido anymore. Shanks is trying to make something bigger happen. He’s sending a message to the world.”
Garp snorted, glancing at Sengoku. “You think so? It’s clear he’s not interested in just being another pirate. The world’s going to have to reckon with him sooner or later. Just hope he doesn’t push too far.”
As the broadcast continued, all eyes were on Shanks, Kaido, and the forces that had been pulled into this escalating struggle. Whitebeard, Big Mom, the Marines—all of them knew that Shanks had just made a monumental declaration, one that would change the course of history.
On the island, Kaido remained motionless beneath the weight of Shanks’ will. His heart raced, his pride shattered. “You...” Kaido’s voice was strained, his words barely a whisper. “You think you can change everything with your words?”
Shanks remained eerily detached, his gaze fixed on Kaido, unblinking and unwavering. His words were calculated, cold, and carried the weight of a man who had seen the truth behind the facades of the world.
"Tell me, Kaido..." Shanks' voice broke the silence once again, the words dripping with a chilling certainty. "What do you have that Big Mom or Whitebeard don't? You’re just a man who got lucky. You think your strength makes you special? You think your claim to Wano gives you purpose? No, Kaido. You just got lucky that Oden was naïve enough to trust you."
Kaido’s eyes sharpened, a dangerous glint flickering within them. How did Shanks know about Oden? The question gnawed at him, but he couldn’t afford to show any weakness. Oden had been a vital part of his rise, a fool who had trusted him, and yet... to have it laid out like this, so matter-of-factly, stung in a way Kaido wasn’t accustomed to.
Shanks seemed to notice the shift in Kaido’s expression, the subtle change in his demeanor. He crouched down, his eyes locking onto Kaido’s with an almost predatory gleam. He tilted his head, studying Kaido with an unsettling calmness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the situation.
"Aren’t your dreams to die in glory?" Shanks asked, his tone almost playful, but with a layer of something darker beneath. "In a battle, a grand, final battle. You’ve been looking for that, haven’t you? I can give you one, Kaido. What do you think? A glorious death at the hands of a stronger man. I can make it happen."
Kaido's heart thudded in his chest, the weight of Shanks' words sinking in like a slow, painful poison. The dream he had clung to for so long—the dream of an epic death in battle, of being remembered forever—was being dangled before him like a cruel joke. Kaido’s hands clenched into fists, his pride gnawing at him, threatening to crack under the pressure.
"You think you can just..." Kaido's voice was hoarse, a mix of fury and disbelief. "You think you can just dictate my fate?"
Shanks' lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "I’m not dictating anything, Kaido. I’m offering you the end you’ve been craving. I can give you that final battle. But I won’t just give it to you out of pity. I’ll make sure it’s something worthy of your dreams. So tell me, Kaido..." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you want to die this much?"
The air around them was thick with tension. Kaido’s mind raced, his pride, his dream, his desire for power all crashing together in a storm of fury and uncertainty. He had long believed he could achieve greatness through strength, but now, Shanks was forcing him to confront something deeper, something far more dangerous than mere physical power—his very worth, his place in the world.
Shanks stood slowly, his posture unchanging, his gaze still locked on Kaido, as if waiting for an answer, though he knew that Kaido might never give one.
The world, in this moment, seemed to pause—suspended in the space between words, between choices. What would Kaido do? Would he accept Shanks’ offer of a glorious death, or would his pride force him to fight on, even if it meant his ultimate destruction?
Marco’s voice cut through the tension, his eyes never leaving the Den Den Mushi feed. He exchanged a glance with Izo, both of them processing the scene unfolding in front of them. The words from Shanks were sharp, calculated—each one a calculated jab at Kaido's deepest desires.
“Shanks is taunting Kaido’s dreams,” Marco observed quietly, the weight of the statement sinking in. His voice was tinged with both awe and concern, for he understood the gravity of what Shanks was doing. To poke at someone’s deepest, most cherished dream was to invite danger. But this wasn’t just a man confronting a pirate—it was Shanks, wielding his own brand of power with cold precision.
Izo, ever the stoic, clenched his jaw. "He’s playing a dangerous game," he muttered, his eyes flickering with unease. "Kaido’s not one to take that kind of taunt lightly."
Whitebeard, standing at the edge of the deck, his massive frame a testament to years of war, didn’t look away from the screen. His face was a mask of stoic contemplation, but his grip on the rail tightened just slightly. "Aye, Marco. Shanks knows exactly what he’s doing." Whitebeard’s voice was low but carried a weight that made those around him listen closely.
He was a man who understood strength, pride, and the price of a battle fought with more than just weapons. He knew the toll that words could take, especially when they were aimed at a man like Kaido. But Shanks was no fool—he understood that too. To taunt a man like Kaido, to offer him a death that would feed into his pride, was as much a weapon as any sword.
“This will either break him or make him,” Whitebeard added. "I don't know which."
Back on the island, Kaido’s hand twitched slightly, his breath shallow. Shanks’ words, each one calculated and cruel, rattled him in a way he hadn’t expected. Kaido had spent years building his empire, his reputation, and his dreams around the idea of a glorious death in battle. The prospect of someone offering that, so casually, felt like an assault on his very existence.
"Glorious death, huh?" Kaido's voice was rough, as if struggling to find the words. "You think you can give me that? You think I’d let you decide when I die?"
Shanks didn’t flinch. He simply stared, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a guillotine. “I’m not deciding anything, Kaido. I’m offering you a chance to die the way you’ve always dreamed. But not on your terms—on mine. Can you handle that?"
Kaido’s eyes blazed with fury, but there was something else there too—a flicker of doubt, a hesitation. For the first time, Shanks had made him question everything he had built. Kaido’s entire life had been about controlling his fate, about being the one who decided when and how he would fall. But now, Shanks had placed the power to decide his end in Kaido’s hands, forcing him to confront a question he hadn’t wanted to face: Was his dream of a glorious death worth the price of his pride?
From the sidelines, the Marines, Whitebeard Pirates, and Big Mom Pirates all watched in a tense silence, knowing that this moment would change the course of the future.
Sengoku’s eyes narrowed as he processed what was happening. "Shanks is turning the tide," he muttered, his hand clenched into a fist. "Kaido might not survive this. And if he does, he’ll be a broken man."
Garp grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and challenge. "Shanks always knows how to make things interesting. I don't know whether I want to laugh or worry about the mess he’s making."
On Big Mom’s ship, Katakuri and Perospero stood still, watching with growing concern. Perospero spoke first, his voice a mixture of disbelief and irritation. "Is this how Shanks plays? By breaking Kaido’s will before even drawing a sword? That man is... unnerving."
Katakuri, ever the strategist, leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Shanks. "He’s showing Kaido something that’s far worse than defeat: the idea that his dream, his reason for existing, is worthless. That’s the real blow."
Big Mom, her rage still simmering beneath the surface, clenched her fists. "Shanks... He thinks he can control everything. He’s becoming a threat to us all. If Kaido falls to him..." Her voice trailed off, a dangerous look flickering in her eyes.
Back with Whitebeard, his gaze remained unwavering as Kaido stood at the precipice, his pride and his dreams clashing in the storm of Shanks' words.
"The world will have to choose soon," Whitebeard said, his voice quieter now, yet carrying the weight of all his experience. "And if Kaido falls to Shanks, the balance will shift. All of us will have to make a move." He looked at Marco, then at Izo. "I’m not sure Shanks understands the mess he’s about to make... but this game is no longer just about pirates."
The silence was thick, the tension palpable, as the stage was set for the inevitable conflict, and the world watched, waiting for Kaido’s answer. Would he take the offered end, or would his pride lead him into a battle he might not survive?
Shanks’ voice cut through the air again, eerily calm and detached, as he crouched lower, his eyes locked onto Kaido, who was still struggling against the weight of the Conqueror's Haki that kept him pinned to the ground. His body trembled, the pressure relentless as Shanks' words sank into his consciousness.
“Are you thinking about Wano, Kaido?” Shanks' voice was soft, but it carried a chilling certainty. "About your Beast Pirates? All of them... your empire, your dream... You know, if you die in glory fighting me..." He paused, letting the weight of the words settle, his smile never wavering. "Don’t worry... they’ll remember you the most. Your name will live on forever in their hearts. You will never die, Kaido. You’ll be immortalized. Everyone will remember you.”
Kaido’s eyes widened, his hand instinctively trying to push himself up, but the force holding him in place was crushing. His chest heaved, the suffocating pressure from Shanks’ Haki making it difficult to even breathe, let alone rise. Kaido, the self-proclaimed strongest creature alive, was powerless before the red-haired man’s gaze. The weight of Shanks’ words cut deeper than any wound.
“You will die gloriously,” Shanks continued, his voice now a quiet whisper, the venom of his words more insidious than ever. "Why not take this chance, Kaido? Fight me. Will you die gloriously, achieving your dreams, or will you not die... and never get to achieve them?"
Kaido’s hand trembled as he reached for the ground, trying to push himself up again, but it felt as if his own body betrayed him, as if his strength was slipping away. His pride screamed, his dream of a glorious death—the one thing he had held onto for so long—was now taunted by the one person he couldn’t defeat. His mind was a battlefield, his thoughts warring against each other.
Was this the moment? The one he had longed for? The final, epic battle he had envisioned in the deepest corners of his soul? But was it really worth it if Shanks was the one controlling how it would end?
The weight of Shanks’ words, coupled with the crushing pressure of his Haki, made it difficult for Kaido to think clearly. His dreams, his ambitions, were slipping through his fingers like sand. Was this how it would end? Would his legacy be reduced to a single moment of weakness, or would he rise again to take control of his fate?
Shanks’ smile deepened, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he saw the hesitation in Kaido’s expression. He knew that Kaido’s pride was the only thing keeping him from accepting the challenge. And yet, Shanks had already laid the groundwork—planted the seed of doubt that would continue to fester in Kaido’s mind long after the confrontation.
“You can’t even get up, Kaido,” Shanks continued, his voice as cold as the steel of a blade. "Your dreams... they’re slipping away from you. The glory you sought is just a whisper now, a fleeting moment that can slip through your grasp forever. Will you let it?”
Kaido’s muscles strained, his body screaming in defiance, but the more he struggled, the tighter Shanks’ grip became. His vision blurred, not from physical pain, but from the weight of his own failing will. The dream that had once defined him—of a death in battle, a glorious end—was now overshadowed by the reality that he might never achieve it.
Kaido’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening in frustration. His pride burned brighter than ever, but Shanks had touched something deeper. The fear of dying without fulfilling his dream, without achieving that glorious death, gnawed at him like an insidious poison.
The world seemed to stretch in that moment, time slowing to a crawl as Kaido fought against the pressure, his body and mind warring against each other. Would he take the chance to die gloriously, or would he die a forgotten man, his dreams and his empire crumbling in the wake of his failure?
Shanks’ smile grew colder, more detached, as he crouched down further, his eyes never leaving Kaido’s strained form. The pressure of his Conqueror’s Haki was relentless, and Kaido’s every attempt to rise only seemed to make the invisible weight more unbearable.
“Hmmm, are you worried about others, Kaido?” Shanks mused, his voice eerily calm, like a grim reaper making its final offer to a soul on the verge of passing. “How others will live when you finally manage to achieve your dreams? Don’t worry, Kaido…” He let the words linger in the air like a chill breeze. “When you finally achieve your dreams, dying in glory by me…”
His gaze shifted briefly to the Den Den Mushi feed, as if addressing the world. “Others will live happily. Wano will rejoice at your glorious death. The people will be free from the terror you’ve brought. The Marines will celebrate, finally grateful that you won’t be there to crush them any longer. They’ll be rooting for you, Kaido, wishing for your final victory, the one you’ve dreamed of for so long.”
He leaned closer to Kaido, his words dripping with a strange sweetness. “Big Mom will shed tears for you, Kaido. She might even reconsider taking care of Wano in your stead… Look at Totto Land. She has the best government structure among the Yonko. Your Wano will be safe in her hands.”
Shanks paused, his eyes glinting with a subtle amusement, as if savoring every word. “Whitebeard… He’ll remember you as the bravest man in the world, Kaido. The man who faced his end with unwavering resolve, the man who achieved his dream. He’s already accomplished his dream, his family, and he’ll be proud of you when you join him, knowing you too have reached your dream.”
He paused, the eerie calm in his voice never faltering. “The World Government will lament your death, Kaido. They’ll lose the precious sea stone deal they’ve had with you. But don’t worry, Kaido... Big Mom is magnanimous. She’ll surely continue the deal with them. They’ll all remember you for your sacrifice.”
Shanks’ gaze returned to Kaido, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But what about me, Kaido? What do you think will happen to me when you finally achieve your dreams?” He leaned in closer, his voice softer, yet no less chilling. “It’ll make me so happy too, Kaido, when you die in glory fighting me. You’ll have achieved your dream... and I can finally achieve mine.”
He let that hang in the air, before adding, his tone more insistent now. “But if you don’t die in glory, Kaido... If you defeat me and walk away... Everyone will hate you. They’ll no longer celebrate you. It’s important, Kaido. People need to like you. If not, the next time you fight someone else to achieve your dream of dying gloriously, they’ll curse you. You’ll be forgotten. Your death will be nothing but a tragedy. You can’t let that happen, Kaido.”
He gave Kaido a final, almost pitying look. “You need to fight me now. You need to claim your dream now, Kaido. Before it slips away from you forever.”
Shanks’ smile lingered, still cold and calculating, as he subtly relaxed the grip of his Conqueror’s Haki. The weight that had pinned Kaido to the ground lessened, allowing Kaido the chance to rise, but the moment the pressure was lifted, Shanks’ words continued to echo in Kaido’s mind.
Kaido’s body trembled with a mixture of rage and confusion as he slowly pushed himself up. His vision was blurred by the weight of his own thoughts, the conflicting emotions swirling inside him like a storm. His once unshakable resolve was faltering. He had been brought to this moment, this confrontation with Shanks, by his own dream of dying gloriously—of facing his end in battle, his name etched into history. But now, standing on the precipice, he was faced with the undeniable truth that Shanks was more than just a mere opponent.
I can do this… I can… Kaido’s internal monologue was frantic, his body strained as he rose to his feet, towering over the man who had already defeated him mentally. But what will I do? His thoughts were disjointed, the weight of Shanks’ words seeping into his consciousness.
Defeat Shanks? Kaido thought. But that will never lead me to my dream. No... I would be forced to fight for more... forever. If I defeat him now, there is no finality, no glory. I’ll have won, but I won’t have achieved what I came for. Not truly...
A dark shadow crept into his mind, threatening to swallow him whole. But if I don’t defeat him, if I don’t go all out... if I don’t give my everything… I’ll never feel like I’ve truly fought for it. And if I don’t fight with all my strength… if I don’t risk it all, what meaning does my dream even have?
Kaido’s fists clenched, his whole body trembling from the internal turmoil. The idea of a death without purpose, a fight without meaning, terrified him. He had always believed that true strength came from the willingness to lay everything on the line for his dream. If he didn’t go all out against Shanks, what would that mean for his legacy? Could he live with the knowledge that his death had been meaningless?
Shanks, standing calmly before him, watched the internal battle unfold in Kaido’s eyes. He had known this moment would come—the moment Kaido would have to confront the true cost of his dream. His challenge was no longer physical; it was philosophical, psychological, and Shanks knew that Kaido would have to reconcile with his own pride, with the essence of who he was, and what he truly sought.
Kaido’s mind was a battlefield, his thoughts crashing against one another like thunderclaps, threatening to tear him apart. He could feel the weight of his own ambition pressing down on him, suffocating him with its intensity. What use is living if I cannot achieve my dreams? The thought echoed, its bitter truth gnawing at his core.
His knees buckled, and Kaido fell to the ground, his fists hitting the earth with a dull thud. Are my dreams that flimsy? His mind screamed. Why do they seem impossible to achieve? The comparison to Whitebeard clawed at him. If Whitebeard can achieve his dream, why can’t I? The thought crushed him further. What does he have that I don’t?
Kaido’s breath came in ragged gasps as the weight of his own failure suffocated him. The image of Roger flashed in his mind—dying at the hands of the Marines, yet his death had been monumental. If Roger can die a meaningful death, even when he was executed... why can’t I?
Kaido's hands gripped the earth beneath him. The thought of dying without meaning, of fading into nothingness, felt like the greatest form of failure. What if I got executed like Roger? The idea of dying gloriously, remembered by the world, seemed almost like an answer to all his suffering. It would be a glorious death, people would remember me.
Yet, there was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind, something that held him back. But not fighting for my death… it doesn’t feel right. Kaido’s body trembled with the realization that the only way he could fulfill his dream was through his own strength, through fighting with everything he had. But that would mean confronting Shanks—someone whose power felt insurmountable in this moment.
Shanks is so strong right now… Kaido thought, his mind spiraling. He’s more capable than me. His Conqueror’s Haki alone rendered me useless... The despair seemed to reach its peak. If I fight him, going all out, I will certainly lose. But in doing so, I would achieve my dream…
A deep, guttural growl tore itself from Kaido’s throat as he rose to his feet. His muscles were heavy, his body bruised and battered, but the fire in his heart flared to life once again. His resolve solidified into something far stronger than before. His eyes locked on Shanks, a wild glint in his gaze. His dream, his fight, everything was riding on this.
“I can’t die without fighting!” Kaido roared, his voice shaking the very ground beneath them. He surged forward, his body like a storm unleashed, fueled by the fury of his broken thoughts and the desperation to achieve his dream. He didn’t care that Shanks was stronger. He didn’t care that the odds were against him. His mind was clear now, focused only on the fight ahead. The battle he had sought his whole life.
Kaido’s hands clenched into fists as his immense will pushed him forward, a massive, destructive force that threatened to overwhelm the landscape around them.
Shanks, standing unfazed, regarded Kaido’s approach with a mix of calm and calculation. There was no fear in his eyes—only the cold certainty that this was the moment Kaido had been waiting for. He was about to take everything he had, charging headlong into what could very well be his final confrontation.