The morning mist had yet to lift. Moisture hung thick over Pangaea Castle.
The dense, milky fog only vaguely outlined the contours of the massive city.
Shadowy figures loomed—more and more of them, vague and grey in the haze...
Tap, tap…
The sound of footsteps crunching on broken stones echoed faintly. A man sneaking about stiffened in alarm and turned around abruptly.
"Tch. And they claimed they weren't interested in the treasure."
Seeing the gray silhouettes in the mist, a flicker of disdain flashed across his eyes.
But in the next instant, that disdain was replaced by sheer horror.
Black cloaks. Blood-red markings. Beneath the enormous hoods were cold, stern faces—each expressionless, each oppressive.
Tap tap tap tap...
The footsteps grew louder as the group drew nearer.
Staring at the merciless faces one by one, the man collapsed onto the ground, trembling.
Yet the group of cloaked figures walked past him without even sparing a glance, eyes fixed forward.
"If you want to see tomorrow's sunrise, get lost."
One of them—tattoos marked on the left side of his face—paused at the end of the line and coldly warned:
"Tell everyone in Mary Geoise that from this day forward, this place is forbidden to all."
"Ah!!"
The man's heart pounded wildly under the glare of those vicious eyes. Letting out a scream, he scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the refugee camp.
His terrified shriek shattered the stillness of the dawn like an alarm clock tearing through dreams.
Whoosh~
Within Pangaea Castle, King Ghidorah stirred. As if sensing something, he exhaled a blast of hot air from his nostrils and slowly opened his massive eyes.
"…Monkey D. Musend (OC)."
Looking at the trembling old man leading the group, a faint smile curved Ghidorah's savage dragon mouth.
"Uncle Ghidorah…"
At his words, tears welled in Musend's eyes. His aged face lit up with the smile of a child reuniting with a long-lost parent.
"You're finally back. I knew you wouldn't abandon us!"
"For centuries, we searched the world—but never imagined you were locked away in Impel Down."
"It wasn't until a few years ago that young Dragon suggested sending people to investigate there…"
As the old man's tears streamed freely, Ghidorah cut him off mid-sentence.
"It's all in the past."
"Don't worry. The pain we've endured, the hatred we've buried—all of it, I will repay."
Musend dropped to his knees and wept like a child returning home after years of suffering.
Behind him, the clan members looked on—startled, unsure how to react. Even their elder had lost all composure.
No one interrupted. No one dared to.
Only after a long time—after centuries of anguish had poured out—did Musend realize how disgraceful he must have looked.
He quickly stood and straightened his robe, bowing apologetically.
"Forgive me for showing such a shameful display."
"No… It's good to finally release what's been buried all these years."
Ghidorah curled his lips in a smile and slowly stood with a thunderous rumble.
"Welcome back to Paradise. From this day forth, Pangaea Castle belongs once again to the Clan of D."
"Go now, Musend. Retrieve every treasure from the vaults. This will be our starting capital—for the revival of the Clan of D."
"It won't be long before the Great Kingdom rises again to its former glory."
"At once!"
Hearing this, Monkey D. Musend stood tall despite his frail frame, his face solemn.
Then, as if recalling something, he turned and gestured toward a middle-aged man behind him, introducing him to Ghidorah.
"Uncle, this is the hope of the Monkey D. family."
"Dragon—this is the great guardian of the Clan of D I've told you about…"
At those words, Dragon removed the hood from his head, revealing a face marked with tribal-like tattoos reminiscent of Native American designs. He bowed deeply and respectfully.
"Monkey D. Dragon—greetings, Ancestor."
Seeing the tattoos on Dragon's face, Ghidorah's golden eyes flickered with a hint of nostalgia.
After a moment, he said, "Mythical Zoan type… That's that fruit, isn't it?"
Startled, Dragon nodded. "Yes."
"Don't waste its power. It's not merely the wind and thunder you think it is. After all, it was created with the intention of forging a God of the Skies…"
Ghidorah paused, realizing he might be saying too much, and rephrased.
"Forget it—you wouldn't understand even if I explained. Just cultivate it well. Someday, you'll rule the skies."
"My powers are nothing compared to yours," Dragon said humbly, lowering his head.
"Heh… No need for that with me."
Ghidorah narrowed his massive golden eyes and said with a faint grin:
"Besides… I've already seen it in your eyes—the unwillingness, the longing."
"Since that's the case… then go ahead and raise hell according to your will."
"Remember: in this world, nothing can stop the ambition of the Clan of D—not even the Twenty Kings of old…"
Hearing this, Dragon's pupils trembled. He looked up instinctively at the colossal beast before him.
As time passed, Musend led the clan to excavate the hidden treasure vaults. Dragon, meanwhile, remained behind with Ghidorah.
Although Dragon's "Revolutionary Army" had gained some strength, in the coming events, they would still be far too weak.
That's why Ghidorah had kept him back—to teach him the revolutionary theory stored in his memories.
As their discussions deepened, Dragon's eyes widened with each passing moment. Eventually, he gazed upon Ghidorah with eyes full of awe.
The beast's words had opened a brand-new world to him.
Especially theories on New Democratic Revolution, Socialist Revolution and Construction, the building of revolutionary forces and military strategy, policy and tactics, ideological and cultural work, and Party building—each one brimming with originality and vision.
To Dragon, it was like a long-lost treasure of knowledge.
By the end of their conversation, Dragon was practically treating Ghidorah as a divine being.
Seeing the reverence in his eyes, Ghidorah couldn't help but feel a little smug.
Good thing I've got an excellent memory. I still remember everything I once studied!
His throat dry from all the explaining, Ghidorah waved Dragon off to help the others dig out the treasure.
Dragon, now treating him as a god, of course obeyed. But just before leaving, he stopped and turned back.
"Ancestor… During my investigations, I came across a lead regarding the 'Sky Lord Rodan.'"
"Rodan?"
"What news?" Ghidorah asked.
"After your disappearance, Rodan apparently attacked the early World Government, wreaking havoc. He was eventually wounded by the Twenty Kings and fled—but he didn't die. His current whereabouts are unknown."
Dragon explained.
"Heh… If he's not dead, that's good news."
"Knowing that guy, he wouldn't stray far from volcanoes. Once I have a list of volcanic island locations, I'll search personally."
Ghidorah murmured to himself.
A being who thrived in fire would never wander far from volcanoes.
As long as he lived—he would be found.
"Understood. I'll instruct the Revolutionary Army to compile the data. If you need—"
"No, this isn't something your people can help with. It involves entering active volcanoes."
"Oh, right—if there are any promising individuals in the Revolutionary Army, especially those without Devil Fruit powers, you can recommend them to me."
"After all, I don't use Devil Fruit abilities myself."
Recalling the vast manpower needed in the coming days, Ghidorah decided it was time to begin nurturing powerful individuals.
For others, this might be a monumental task.
But for him?
It was just something to do while taking a nap…
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