North Blue, waters near an independent island.
The sky was clear, and the sea shone a pristine blue.
White seagulls soared freely through the cloudless skies, gliding toward the distant horizon.
A Marine warship slowly cruised across the waters, leaving a long white wake in its trail.
"How much longer until we arrive?"
Standing at the bow of the ship with arms crossed and a lit cigar clenched between his teeth, Darren spoke. Behind him, his pristine white Marine cape fluttered in the wind.
"About a few minutes to the rendezvous point," came the reply.
Standing beside him, Momonga held an Eternal Log Pose in his hand, guiding their heading.
"Germa 66's movements have always been erratic. As a mobile military nation dubbed the 'Army of Evil,' they don't have fixed territory."
Darren nodded and turned his head toward the far side of the deck, where two figures trained relentlessly, drenched in sweat. A faint smile crept onto his face.
Noticing his gaze, Momonga sighed with a wry smile.
"Lieutenant Commanders Gion and Tokikake seem to be pushing themselves hard. Ever since the incident with the Celestial Dragon, they've been training like mad."
"It's for the best. At least it's been quiet around here lately," Darren said coolly.
The Celestial Dragon affair had hit the two prodigies from Marine Headquarters hard. The impotence of the Marines, the despair in the face of authority, and the guilt of being complicit—any one of these could shatter a Marine's belief in justice.
In the original timeline, Aokiji (Kuzan) was a perfect example during the Ohara incident—from the burning justice to a lazy one, a transformation rooted in disillusionment.
"Maybe you should talk to them?" Momonga suggested cautiously, clearly hesitant.
He had seen Darren's knack for breaking down people with his insight into human nature. No one saw through others quite like he did.
"I'll leave lecturing to Sengoku. I'm not here to raise kids."
Darren's eyes left the pair. His voice remained calm. "If they can't make it past this hurdle, maybe they were never meant to be Marines."
Momonga sighed. Darren was always brutally perceptive—so much so that it could feel cold.
Darren's deep voice snapped Momonga out of his thoughts. He looked up.
In the distance, through the sea mist, massive shadows began to emerge.
Dozens of massive warships, pulled by giant snails, plowed through the waves, leaving wide, churning trails.
The Germa 66 war flag waved atop the largest battleship. At its center flew the proud cross-hawk sigil of the Vinsmoke family.
With a single command, the entire fleet began assembling. Tracks and gears connected, forming a singular mobile fortress.
"Impressive as ever... no wonder the world fears the War Nation."
Momonga's eyes gleamed with awe.
Though he had bested Germa 66 in the past, it had been due to his Devil Fruit's direct advantage against their tech. Germa was anything but weak. Their military strength ranked among the world's top powers.
Advanced weapons, combat suits, clone soldiers, modular territory—along with the rare ability to traverse the Red Line...
If Darren could acquire their military technology and apply it to his growing North Blue fleet, he'd be unstoppable. His forces would breach into the Grand Line—or even the New World—without resistance.
Of course, his ambitions stretched beyond technology.
"Prepare for boarding."
His voice was calm, but his eyes shimmered with depth.
Momonga raised his hand in signal. Marines on deck moved into position with precision.
The helm turned, steering their vessel smoothly into Germa's mobile port.
Gion and Tokikake finished their training and quickly readjusted their uniforms, moving to the front lines of the formation.
Their eyes drifted to Darren's towering figure. Guilt clouded their expressions.
Ever since Admiral Sengoku had left Batiya Island, they had avoided Darren like the plague, unable to face him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A sudden burst of cannon fire snapped both officers out of their thoughts.
Tokikake instinctively stepped forward, shielding Gion with his body. "Don't worry, Gion! I'll protect you!"
He struck a valiant pose, ready to strike a dashing figure—only to realize all the other Marines were looking at him like he was an idiot.
Brilliant fireworks burst into the air, painting the sky with dazzling color.
Light sparkled across his dumbfounded face, making him look like a clown.
...Ceremonial salutes.
Tokikake gaped, speechless.
"Relax, Lieutenant Commander Tokikake."
Darren chuckled, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder before stepping down from the ship.
On Germa's metallic soil, rows of ceremonial salutes erupted, coloring the sky with celebration and peace.
"Hahaha! Welcome, Captain Darren. Your presence is an honor to all of Germa 66."
Striding out from a phalanx of elite troops, Vinsmoke Judge wore his formal robes and golden mane proudly, beaming as he extended his hand.
"The honor is mine. Germa's grandeur never fails to stir the blood, no matter how many times I witness it."
Darren smiled as they clasped hands firmly.
Behind them, Gion and Tokikake watched with twitching expressions.
To think the two men laughing before them had nearly brought Germa to the brink of destruction not long ago...
If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they'd think these two were long-lost brothers.