Vista, the Flower-Sword, stood as a bulwark before the infirmary doors, his twin sabers a silver blur. Opposite him, on a treacherous bridge of his own creation, stood Charlotte Perospero, a smug, sadistic grin plastered on his face.
"Your loyalty is admirable, mustache man," Perospero drawled, licking a drop of candy syrup from his thumb. "But it's also pointless. That's my sister in there. This is a family matter."
"The moment you declared war on this ship, you forfeited all claims of family," Vista replied, his voice as sharp and clean as his blades. He settled into his stance, rose petals seemingly materializing from thin air to dance around his feet. "You will not take another step."
Perospero chuckled, a high, grating sound. "We'll see about that! Candy Wave!"
He thrust his staff forward, and the candy bridge beneath his feet liquefied, surging toward Vista like a massive, sticky tsunami. It was a wave designed not to crush, but to engulf and immobilize.
Vista didn't retreat. With a spin, he launched into his signature attack. "Rose Rondo!"
He became a whirlwind of steel and petals. His blades moved with impossible speed, not striking the wave head-on, but dicing it into thousands of harmless, sticky cubes. The candy deluge fell around him like a useless, sweet rain, leaving him untouched in the eye of the storm.
From the corner of his eye, Vista saw Jozu, a glittering behemoth, slam into a horde of Cracker's Biscuit Soldiers, shattering them like pottery. In the sky, Ace's fireballs clashed with the spectral form of Daifuku's genie in bursts of heat and ethereal energy. The entire world was chaos.
"Cute trick," Perospero sneered, already forming a new weapon. "But can you dance your way out of this? Candy Maiden!"
From the deck, a torrent of syrup rose, shaping itself into the horrifying form of an iron maiden, complete with glistening, razor-sharp candy spikes on the inside. It lunged forward, its sugary jaws gaping wide, intending to swallow Vista whole.
Vista's eyes narrowed. He coated his blades in shimmering black Haki. Instead of dodging, he met the attack with breathtaking precision. He didn't try to shatter the construct; he targeted its structural weak points. With a series of fluid, lightning-fast thrusts and slashes, he severed the candy "hinges" and "joints" holding the maiden together. The terrifying trap collapsed into a pile of inert, quivering goo at his feet.
"Your confectionary creations lack a swordsman's grace," Vista noted coolly.
Perospero's grin finally faltered, replaced by a scowl of pure frustration. He was Big Mom's eldest son, a man whose bounty exceeded 700 million. He was not used to being thwarted so elegantly. "You talk too much!"
He abandoned constructs and opted for pure offense, sending a volley of hardened candy arrows whistling through the air. Vista moved, a phantom of grace. He flowed across the deck, parrying each arrow with an effortless flick of his wrists, the tink-tink-tink of steel on sugar a deadly counterpoint to the roaring battle around them. He danced forward, closing the distance, turning Perospero's own candy bridge into his personal dueling ground.
High above, the clash between Whitebeard and Big Mom sent another reality-shattering shockwave across the sky. The ocean recoiled, and for a moment, the very stars seemed to tremble. It was a battle of gods, a reminder of the stakes.
Vista pressed his advantage. He was on Perospero now, their duel becoming a close-quarters dance of death. Perospero formed a long candy spear, thrusting wildly, but Vista was always a step ahead, his twin blades a mesmerizing, impenetrable defense that bled into a terrifying offense.
"You rely on your Devil Fruit," Vista said, his blades weaving a cage around Perospero. "It has made you powerful, but it has also made you lazy. You lack the refinement of a true warrior."
Above them, Katakuri and Marco continued their dance in mid-air, blue flames clashing with white mochi tendrils hardened like iron.
On the other end of the ship, Jozu hurled meteors back into the sky, his diamond-coated fists smashing boulders to powder. Pirates yelled, cannons boomed, and the sea raged under the force of gods clashing.
At the center, Big Mom and Whitebeard circled each other. Their laughter, roars, and clashes sent tremors across the battlefield.
With a burst of speed, Vista ducked under a wide swing and scored a deep gash across Perospero's chest. The candy minister cried out, stumbling back, his coat stained with red.
"It is time to end this," Vista declared, raising his swords as a storm of Haki-infused rose petals erupted around him, each one as sharp as a shard of glass. "Rosarium Requiem!"
The petals swirled into a vortex, a beautiful, deadly tornado that converged on Perospero. He frantically erected a thick Candy Wall, but the petals sliced through it like paper. They enveloped him, a thousand tiny cuts opening all over his body, shredding his clothes and his confidence.
The whirlwind dissipated. Vista stood before a kneeling, bleeding Perospero, the tips of both his Haki-coated swords resting gently against the man's throat. The battle, at least here, was won.
"It's over," Vista said, his voice calm, final.
Perospero stared up, defeated, sweat and blood dripping from his face.
And then, a single, impossibly bright glint of light appeared in the corner of Vista's eye.
He felt it before he saw it—a prickle of danger on his skin, a distortion in the air. The sounds of battle seemed to warp and slow down. He started to turn his head…
"Ooooh my…"
The voice was lazy, stretched-out, and dripping with condescending amusement. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
A figure materialized from pure, golden light, standing casually on the ship's railing as if he'd been there the whole time. He wore a yellow-and-white pinstriped suit, his hands tucked nonchalantly in his pockets. Admiral Kizaru.
"Am I interrupting something important?" he drawled.
Vista had no time to react. No time to even process the threat.
Kizaru was no longer on the railing. In less than a heartbeat, he was in front of Vista, his leg raised in a slow, almost mocking arc that was moving at the speed of light.
FWWWOOOOSHH—BOOM!
The kick connected with Vista's side. It wasn't a named attack. It wasn't flashy. It was a simple, insulting kick, delivered with the kinetic force of a meteor. The sound was a deafening sonic boom mixed with the sickening crack of breaking ribs.
Vista's eyes went wide with shock and pain. He was launched sideways, a human cannonball, flying across the entire deck. He smashed clean through the Moby Dick's main mast, the colossal timber exploding into a shower of splinters, before finally crashing into the far railing with a sickening crunch. He slumped to the deck, unconscious and broken.
The entire battlefield fell silent for a single, stunned second.
Perospero, still on his knees, stared in disbelief at the admiral who had saved him, a slow, malicious grin of relief and opportunity spreading across his bloody face.
High above, the apocalyptic struggle between the two Yonko ceased.
Whitebeard, his bisento locked with Big Mom's sword, turned his head. His eyes, already blazing with a father's protective fury, widened. The rage intensified, morphing into more absolute.
"BORSALINO…!" His roar was pure, unadulterated hatred.
Big Mom, equally shocked, recoiled. "The Marines?!" she shrieked, her eyes wide with confusion and fury. "What are they doing here?! Damn Marine Bastards!"
Kizaru ignored them all. He stood where Vista had been, a calm pillar of golden light in the heart of the hurricane. He adjusted his sunglasses, his gaze falling upon the infirmary door.
"My apologies," he said to the chaos around him, his lazy voice carrying over the wind. "Fleet Admiral's orders are absolute."
He raised a glowing finger, a miniature sun forming at its tip.
"The party… is over."