Explosions ripped across the battlefield. Screams, cannon fire, and the roar of monstrous powers filled the sky. Pillars of smoke danced against the ash-gray heavens as titans clashed below. The war was teetering—neither side yielding.
Golden eyes swept at the massive hole between chest of Whitebeard.
Then, the ground beneath Marineford cracked.
And he appeared.
Gunnar.
He descended like a comet from the heavens, crashing into the square with such force the very icee recoiled. It was as if the ocean recognized what had arrived—and feared it.
Bare-chested, monstrous in size, his frame was sculpted in war and fury. The right half of his body pulsed with molten magma, glowing veins creeping up his torso like hell's vines. The left side shimmered with glacial frost, every breath trailing a mist so cold it froze droplets mid-air.
One eye burned crimson.
The other — an icy frost-blue.
The moment his boots struck the ruined ground, it split.
One foot froze the earth.
The other melted it.
Silence fell across the battlefield—only broken by the low hum of his Conqueror's Haki, pressing into the souls of every Marine nearby. Men collapsed. Knees buckled. Some couldn't even scream.
And at the heart of this silence… stood Admiral Sakazuki.
Akainu.
Magma hissed from his fists. His jaw clenched, voice like stone dragged through fire.
"Another brat with power far beyond what he deserves," he growled, stepping through fire and corpses. "You threaten justice… you'll be eradicated."
Gunnar said nothing.
He walked forward, each step a chorus of frost and flame, as if the elements themselves bowed to him. Ice and lava sang through his blood in perfect harmony.
And then—
THE SKY CRACKED.
Akainu didn't wait. He surged forward like a volcanic meteor, his right fist warping into a magma-wolf the size of a ship.
"MEIGOU!!"
The beast roared, boiling the air as it soared toward Gunnar—
SLAM—!!
It collided—and vanished.
The lava was absorbed into Gunnar's molten skin. The frost-half of his chest instantly neutralized the blow. Steam exploded from the impact.
He didn't flinch.
He smiled.
Then—
BOOM!
Gunnar moved.
Faster than wind. He was in front of Akainu in a blink.
With a single punch, coated in brilliant Ryuu-enhanced Armament Haki, he flattened the Admiral through three steel towers defenses.
"This is for my Father!"
The towers collapsed behind Akainu like paper.
But the admiral roared back, his body shifting into full volcanic fury, skin dripping with molten stone.
"YOU LITTLE—!"
He launched another barrage—but Gunnar saw it all.
His Observation Haki stretched, predicting every movement, every thought.
Gunnar caught Akainu's arm mid-strike. The temperature around them warped—ice cracked, magma bubbled. He snapped the admiral's elbow sideways, magma and bone breaking with a sickening crunch.
Akainu screamed.
Gunnar kicked him into the sky like a ragdoll.
BOOOOM!
Then flash-stepped above him, fists glowing with divine fury—one lava, one ice.
"Heaven & Hell: Daðrahringur."
TWIN FISTS descended.
CRACK—!!!
Akainu was driven from the clouds to the icy sea. The impact melted the ice, and again froze half the ocean—and set the other half ablaze. Water turned to steam. Ice cracked. Fire danced across frozen waves.
Akainu crawled out, body wrecked, one eye swollen shut, uniform shredded, jaw slack with disbelief.
"W-What the hell are you…?"
Gunnar walked toward him slowly, footsteps echoing like a countdown to judgment.
"You burn in the name of justice," he said. "I burn in the name of vengeance."
Then—a blade formed.
Forged from pure Ryuu Haki, glowing like celestial steel made of Ice. He pointed it at the fallen admiral.
"I am what happens… when hell refuses you."
Then it came.
CRACK—!!!!
A titanic burst of Conqueror's Haki erupted from Gunnar.
Red and black lightning exploded outward in a violent cyclone of raw willpower—shattering buildings, splitting warships in half, and knocking out marines by the dozens. The air twisted into spirals of pure pressure, and even seasoned commanders staggered as the sheer weight of Gunnar's presence crushed the battlefield.
The sky itself cracked—splitting open in a jagged tear, like the heavens dared not look down upon what was about to happen.
Akainu rose with fire in his lungs, magma foaming off his fists. "You think Haki makes you a god? You're just another fool with power he doesn't deserve."
Gunnar tilted his head, eyes burning cold.
"You speak of justice," he said, voice rumbling like an oncoming avalanche, "When the innocent suffer in the act of punishing of the wicked."
He stepped forward.
His fist clenched, and an eerie silence fell.
Then—
SHRRAAAAK—!!!
His arm was coated in blazing Conqueror's Haki, veins of red lightning racing across his bicep and forearm. The haki roared like a living thing, alive with wrath and resolve. Lava twisted around it, and ice crawled over his knuckles—both elements bowing to his will.
He raised his fist.
"You want power?"
"I'll show you what power hates." Akainu lunged with a snarl, magma arm drawn back, glowing brighter than the sun. "DIE!!"
They clashed.
BOOOOOOOM—!!!!
A sound beyond thunder.
The moment their fists collided, the world fractured.
A seismic blast erupted at the point of impact, ripping apart the ground in concentric rings, leveling towers, and launching entire marine warships into the sky like toys. The sky cracked again, this time a clear black rift splitting the clouds apart like a wound carved across heaven.
The sheer pressure parted the sea of ice.
Marineford broke.
The walls of justice shattered.
Admirals and warlords alike stopped—Kizaru's smile faded, Aokiji narrowed his eyes, and even Mihawk's blade paused mid-air.
"What… is that power?" whispered Vice Admiral Tsuru, shielding her eyes from the winds of annihilation.
"That's not haki… that's not a man… that's a calamity," muttered Marco, struggling to hold the sky steady under his wings.
Cracks split the very air as reality itself reeled from the blow.
In the center of it all—
Akainu, coughing blood, eyes wide, body steaming from a fracture across his chest.
And Gunnar—still standing, arm extended, steam rising off his skin, as half of his body melting into one piece of lava body.
"Sakazuki!" Gunnar growled, stepping forward slowly, his voice deeper, his presence more crushing. "I see why—my brothers fell to you."
He clenched his fist again.
"But I am—not my Brothers!"
"You're not the monster I feared," Akainu said, stepping closer. "You're the reason monsters like me are born."
Then, with a final breath of frost and flame, he raised his arm skyward—
The clouds above split completely. A shaft of golden light pierced the cracked heavens, illuminating him like a god of judgment.
Gunnar looked down on him—l gazing upon Akainu, cold and filled with scorn.
Marco barely held his ground, wings flaring wide as wind and debris whipped past him like razors. His breath caught as he observed shift in the atmosphere around Gunnar and Akainu again.
"T-That pressure… That haki… Just like Pops"
He looked toward the epicenter — through flame, smoke, and shattered sky — and saw Gunnar standing tall, half his body glowing with divine fire and glacial light.
"Oi… Gunnar…"
His voice trembled, soft and stunned.
"When did you get this strong…?"
The battlefield was chaos, but Marco saw none of it. Just his younger brother, the kid he once teased and flew with. Now standing like a god of calamity, bringing admirals to their knees.
He gritted his teeth, wings folding with reverence.
"You really became a monster… to protect us, huh?"
Whitebeard stood atop the war-torn battlefield, bisento in hand, blood on his face, wounds deep.
But his eyes—those old, battle-hardened eyes—watched Gunnar like he was seeing sunlight after a storm.
The quake had stopped.
The world had gone still for a breath.
And Edward Newgate exhaled.
"That boy…"
He smiled, wide and unafraid.
"My son."
His voice boomed, filled with cracked pride.
"THAT'S my son!"
He slammed his bisento into the ground, laughing even as tears streaked the corners of his eyes.
"Show them what it means to carry our name, Gunnar!!"
On the execution platform, Ace's head jerked up.
The sky above him had split — he had felt it. The chains around his wrists burned cold and hot at once. Dust and energy filled the air.
But that voice, that power, that presence…
"No way… no way…"
His eyes filled with disbelief and awe.
"Gunnar…?"
A single tear rolled down his cheek—not out of fear, but from something deeper.
"Finally, Thank you…"
He clenched his fists.
"You're burning the world down… for me…"
And somewhere, deep within his soul — the fire of hope lit again.
Sengoku's cape flapped violently behind him as he shielded his eyes, teeth grinding.
"What is that boy?!"
He looked over, watching Akainu buried beneath ice and molten rock, bloodied and unmoving.
"That's not just a pirate…"
He hissed.
"That's a natural disaster. A walking weapon."
The Fleet Admiral's heart sank. As he clenched luffy harder on his grip.
"Did we… let another Whitebeard grow right under our noses…?"
Garp – Silent Thunder
Beside Sengoku, Garp didn't speak.
He just stared.
Fist clenched so tight his knuckles went pale.
"This kid…"
Garp exhaled through his nose.
His voice was a whisper.
"…might just be the storm the world needed to disrupt it's balance."
Again, The Marineford trembled.
Not lightning. Not magma.
Will.
An invisible, suffocating pressure radiated from Gunnar like a tidal wave of spirit, rippling outward with terrifying intensity. His hair, now split—half fiery red, half stark white—shimmered with a spectral glow. His golden eyes, once clouded by confusion and rage, now burned with a terrifying clarity. The Conqueror's Haki that had repelled Akainu was only the beginning.
"Dad…" Gunnar repeated, his voice hoarse but resonant, vibrating with emotion that made even hardened warriors shiver.
He turned fully, no longer facing Whitebeard with conflict, but standing before him as a shield. His gaze swept across the battlefield—Ace, chained and wide-eyed with hope; Marco, faltering mid-flight; Jozu, bleeding but unbowed; Vista, Squard, the remnants of his family, still fighting.
And then he saw the Marines.
The Admirals.
The executioners.
The war.
The betrayal.
The years lost.
The pain.
He inhaled deeply.
And then—
He unleashed.
It wasn't a scream.
It wasn't a strike.
It was an Order.
"ENOUGH!!!"
The word tore through the battlefield like a divine decree. A tsunami of Haoshoku Haki erupted from Gunnar, not wild, but focused—controlled, devastating, and absolute.
The effect was instant.
Marines froze mid-charge. Their eyes widened in terror as they flipped upside down. Then, like dominoes, they collapsed—one by one, then dozens, then hundreds. Foam frothed at their lips. Bodies spasmed, then went limp. Rifles dropped. Swords clattered. The roar of war was replaced by a spreading, eerie silence.
Even seasoned officers stumbled. Some clutched their heads, others dropped to their knees, their wills shattered. Pacifistas sparked and short-circuited, their targeting systems overwhelmed by the psychic surge.
Vice-Admirals braced themselves. Momonga gritted his teeth, knuckles white. Doberman snarled, sweat dripping down his brow. They didn't fall—but they felt it. The pressure.
The Admirals reacted.
Akainu, blown back by the initial blast, staggered. His magma flickered. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. His eyes, always burning with conviction, now held a flicker of understanding of how big of a pirate he was dealing with.
"…That's not a Warlord," he muttered. "That's a Monster."
Aokiji paused, his ice attacks faltering. "Ara-ra… That's the real deal," he murmured. "He wasn't holding back. He was broken."
Kizaru stopped mid-zip, his lazy smile gone. "Ooooh my… That's quite the aura," he said, stepping back. "Much stronger than before. This party's getting dangerous."
Isshin Ashina, braced himself. "Such power… to command the wills of others so effortlessly. This one… he is truly a king."
But the most dramatic reaction came from Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
Still in his colossal Golden Buddha form, he held the unconscious Luffy by the neck.
The wave of Haki slammed into him like a battering ram.
Sengoku, a master of Haki, withstood it—but the sheer force stunned him. His golden form flickered. His grip faltered.
And in that moment—
Luffy slipped.
He tumbled from Sengoku's fingers, landing with a soft, rubbery thud on the damaged platform, perilously close to the edge—but free.
Sengoku barely noticed.
His golden eyes were locked on Gunnar with Shock. First Akainu clash, then this release, Just How high was this pirate's level.
"Impossible…" he whispered. "Such Haoshoku… from him?!"
Gunnar stood amidst the fallen, his chest heaving, the violet-black aura of his Haki pulsing like a living storm.
The silence that followed Gunnar's Conqueror's Haki blast was suffocating.
It wasn't peace.
It was the breathless pause before a storm.
Only the groans of fallen Marines and the distant, horrified gasps from the broadcast Den Den Mushi broke the stillness. The world was watching. And what it saw was a man reborn.
Gunnar stood tall, his red-and-white hair shimmering like a war banner, his golden eyes burning with a clarity that was both terrifying and divine. The battlefield had bent to his will. And now, it would witness his truth.
Then came the sound.
Not a roar.
Not a cry.
A laugh.
Low at first. A guttural chuckle. Then rising—swelling into a manic, unhinged cackle that echoed across the plaza. "Heh… heheh… HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Charlotte Smoothie, watching with a mix of pride and possessive hunger, glided to his side. Her long fingers brushed his arm, a gesture both intimate and territorial.
"Now that's more like the Gunnar I remember," she purred. "Unleashed. Unpredictable."
Gunnar's laughter faded, but the wild light in his eyes remained.
"So much… wasted time," he muttered, voice low, bitter.
Vice-Admiral Momonga, shaking off the effects of the Haki blast, saw an opening. Gunnar was distracted. Focused inward.
"You won't terrorize this battlefield any longer, Warlord—or whatever you are!" he shouted, charging with his Haki-infused katana. "I will finish today, What I couldn't years ago!"
Gunnar didn't flinch.
He didn't turn.
His hand, the one not touched by Smoothie, casually brushed his own side.
FWOOSH! BOOM!
A controlled eruption of lava burst from his torso, slamming into Momonga mid-strike. The Vice-Admiral was hurled backward, his blade clattering away, his uniform scorched, a howl of pain ripped from his throat.
Gunnar didn't even glance at him.
"Insects."
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, still reeling from the Haki blast, suddenly realized—
His hand was empty.
"STRAW HAT!" he roared, eyes snapping to the platform.
But Luffy was gone.
In the chaos, Ivankov, with Jinbe covering him, had seized the moment. The unconscious boy was now slung over Ivankov's shoulder.
"HEE-HAW! Tactical retreat, darlings! Our precious cargo is secure!"
Then, with a flutter of iridescent feathers, the Thunderbird Kirin descended once more. Restored to its majestic peacock form, it landed gracefully on Gunnar's shoulder—the one untouched by Smoothie.
It nuzzled the white half of his hair, trilling softly.
Its true master had returned.
Sengoku stared at the scene. Gunnar, flanked by a Big Mom Commander and a mythical bird, radiating an aura of Zoan. Lava at his fingertips. Haki that could crush armies.
The pieces clicked.
Far more dangerous.
He had to warn the world.
His voice, amplified by his Buddha form and the Den Den Mushi, boomed across Marineford and out to every island tuned in.
"PEOPLE OF THE WORLD! MARINES! WITNESS THE TRUTH OF THIS MAN!" Sengoku bellowed, pointing directly at Gunnar.
"THIS IS NOT MERELY THE FORMER WARLORD RAGNAR! THIS IS A NIGHTMARE FROM THE PAST, REBORN!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"THIS IS EDWARD GUNNAR! THE TRUE BLOOD SON OF THE EMPEROR WHITEBEARD!"
Shock. Disbelief. Awe.
"BUT THAT IS NOT ALL!" Sengoku continued, voice rising. "THROUGH SOME ACCURSED TWIST OF FATE, HE HAS NOT ONLY HIS OWN DEVIL FRUIT BUT ALSO POWERS STRIKINGLY SIMILAR TO THE GURA GURA NO MI!"
Cries of alarm. Panic. Confusion.
"HE IS A WALKING CATACLYSM! A HYBRID OF UNIMAGINABLE DESTRUCTIVE POTENTIAL!"
He turned to Smoothie, fury in his eyes.
"THIS MAN WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ELIMINATED FOUR YEARS AGO BY THE BIG MOM PIRATES—BY CHARLOTTE SMOOTHIE HERSELF!"
Smoothie shrugged, unconcerned.
"EDWARD GUNNAR! SON OF WHITEBEARD! WIELDER OF QUAKE-LIKE POWER AND HIS OWN UNHOLY DEVIL FRUIT! THE PRESUMED-DEAD HUSBAND OF A BIG MOM COMMANDER!"
Sengoku's voice reached a fever pitch.
"HE IS A THREAT ON A SCALE WE HAVE NEVER BEFORE IMAGINED! HE MUST BE STOPPED—AT ALL COSTS!"
The world reeled.
From Sabaody to the New World, the name Edward Gunnar echoed like a cannon blast. Citizens stared at broadcast snails in stunned silence. Pirate crews whispered in awe and dread.
"Whitebeard's son… with powers like that?"
"Another monster has awakened."
Even the Emperors, wherever they watched, felt the tremor in the balance of power. Marineford was no longer just a battlefield—it was the epicenter of a new era.
But Gunnar didn't hear the world's reaction.
His golden eyes, wild yet lucid, were fixed on one man.
Whitebeard.
The towering figure of his father stood bloodied, broken, and burning with the last embers of his strength. The gaping hole in his chest, the countless wounds, the exhaustion etched into every line of his face—each one struck Gunnar like a blade to the heart.
He stepped forward, Smoothie and Kirin moving with him like shadows.
The manic laughter faded.
In its place, sorrow.
"Pops…" Gunnar whispered, voice trembling. His hand reached out, fingers crackling faintly with residual Haki. "What have they done to you… what have I done…"
Memories surged—attacking Oars Jr., clashing with Marco, even striking Whitebeard himself. Each one a dagger of guilt.
Whitebeard looked down at him.
His one good eye, clouded with pain, softened.
"Gunnar…" he rumbled, voice weak but warm. "My boy… you came back to us."
Gunnar dropped to his knees.
The titan, the Warlord, the awakened force—now just a son, broken by remorse.
"I'm sorry, Pops," he choked. "For everything. For forgetting. For hurting our family. For standing on the wrong side. For… for this…"
He gestured to Whitebeard's wounds, unable to speak through the weight of shame.
Whitebeard's massive hand, trembling but gentle, reached down and rested on Gunnar's head.
"Shhh…" he murmured. "You were lost. Not by choice. The sea… she takes what she wants. But you're here now. You remember. That's enough."
He coughed, blood spraying onto the ice, but his smile remained.
"To see your face again… it's a gift this old man never thought he'd receive."
Gunnar looked up, tears streaming.
"But your wounds… Akainu… Ace…"
He stood, resolve hardening in his eyes.
"No more."
He placed a hand on Whitebeard's arm.
"Pops… I swear to you. You will not fall today. Not while I still draw breath."
His gaze turned to the execution platform.
To Ace, whose tearful eyes met his.
"And neither will Ace," Gunnar declared, voice ringing with unshakable conviction. "I failed you all once. I won't again. I'll tear down these walls. I'll silence their cannons. I'll bring my brother home."
He turned back to Whitebeard, his voice softening.
"And you… you'll live to see another sunrise."
A single tear traced a path down Whitebeard's weathered cheek, glistening like saltwater under the battlefield's fractured light. He looked at the man before him—not the confused enemy who had once raised a weapon against his own crew, but the son he had mourned, the son who had returned, awakened and whole.
And then, against the backdrop of war, Whitebeard did something he almost never did.
He leaned down, his massive frame trembling with effort, and pulled Gunnar into an embrace.
It was awkward—his body battered, Gunnar's smaller form pressed against his bloodied chest—but it was real. It was raw. It was love.
He buried his face briefly in Gunnar's hair, breathing in the scent of sea salt, blood, and something uniquely his son. For a moment, the battlefield faded. There was only this.
"My son… my foolish, brave son…" Whitebeard murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You always did have a taste for the impossible."
He pulled back slightly, one massive hand resting on Gunnar's shoulder. His gaze, though clouded with pain, burned with pride.
"Then go. Show them. Show the world what it means to be a son of Whitebeard. Protect your family."
Gunnar nodded, tears still streaking his face, but his expression was now carved from steel.
"I will, Pops. I swear it."
He squeezed his father's arm one last time, then turned. His golden eyes swept across the battlefield—toward the execution platform, toward the enemies who had dared to harm his blood.
Smoothie glided closer, her immense height still casting a shadow even over his formidable frame. Kirin, perched on his shoulder, let out a soft, questioning chirp, its feathery head tilted.
"Smoothie," Gunnar said, his voice low, measured, the emotional imbalance from his reunion with Whitebeard now banked, though the embers still glowed fiercely within him.
Her lips curved into that familiar, proprietary smile, though her eyes held a new intensity, watching him as if seeing him truly for the first time in a long while. "It's good to see you back, hubby. It's… a magnificent sight."
He met her gaze, unflinching. "Four years, Smoothie. The life in seclusion, with our daughter and away from pirate world. It was your doing." It wasn't entirely an accusation, more a heavy statement of fact.
"I ensured the safety of our daughter," she purred, one long-fingered hand reaching out, almost touching his magma-scarred arm before pausing. "Still that doesn't change the loss you faced because of that. I am truly sorry, and will accept whatever punishment you have stored for me."
Gunnar's jaw tightened slightly. He looked towards Ace, then back at Whitebeard. "I'm beginning to understand some of your reasons. Or at least, the desperation that might drive such a choice." He let out a slow breath, steam hissing from his frost side. "But my father is on the brink. My brother is about to be executed. The debt I owe them, the family you took me from… that comes first. Right now."
He locked eyes with her, his golden gaze unwavering. "Whatever exists between us – the past, the reasons, the future, if there even is one for us – it will have to wait. There's a war to end, and a family to save. After that…" He let the words hang. "After that, we will talk. Properly."
Smoothie's smile didn't falter. If anything, it widened, a flicker of something akin to excited anticipation in her eyes. "Of course, my dear. Settle your… outstanding affairs. I wouldn't dream of interrupting such a passionate display of familial loyalty." She gestured with a graceful sweep of her hand towards the chaos. "Besides," she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I'm rather looking forward to seeing what else you're capable of now that you're truly… awake. And then, yes. We will have a very, very long talk."
Gunnar gave a curt nod, his attention already shifting back to the battlefield.
His golden eyes, framed by the red and white of his hair, burned with a nihilistic light. Kirin perched on his shoulder, Smoothie at his side, and the battlefield trembled beneath his feet.
He turned to face the might of Marineford.
"SENGOKU! ADMIRALS!" Gunnar's voice boomed, amplified by his awakened Haki. "You parade your justice, but you hold back. You all do. Because you know—if you truly unleashed your power, this island would cease to exist."
A ripple of unease passed through the Marines.
"Dad won't do it." Gunnar's voice dropped, laced with scorn. "He's too noble. Too burdened by the weight of his era. But me?"
He grinned.
"I. Don't. Care."
The grin widened, manic and terrifying.
"You tried to kill my brother. You made me fight my own father. You broke me. Now I'll break everything."
His voice rose to a roar.
"I WILL DRAG THIS ENTIRE ISLAND INTO THE SEA IF I HAVE TO! EITHER YOU ALL DIE—OR WE BOTH DO!"
Sengoku, still in his Buddha form, felt a chill.
"HE'S LOST HIS MIND!" he bellowed. "ALL FORCES—CONVERGE ON EDWARD GUNNAR! STOP HIM BEFORE HE DESTROYS US ALL!"
But Gunnar wasn't waiting.
He raised both hands.
The air shimmered.
Not with lava. Not with ice.
With fractures.
The signature of the Gura Gura no Mi.
But this was different. Wilder. Untamed. Amplified by Gunnar's Burst of violent surging Haki.
"You wanted power?" Gunnar snarled. "Then witness devastation."
He didn't punch the air.
He grabbed it.
And then—
GURA GURA GURA! KRA-KRA-KRA-KOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The world tilted.
Not just the plaza.
Marineford itself lurched.
The frozen waves Aokiji had created shattered—not into chunks, but into dust, atomized by the quake's vibrations.
The ice field cracked, buckled, and erupted. Acres of frozen terrain launched skyward, carrying Marines and pirates alike, their screams drowned by the roar of the earth.
The sea became a maelstrom. Whirlpools formed. Tsunamis rose—not elegant waves, but jagged mountains of water that crashed into Marine battleships, tossing them like toys.
The foundations of Marineford groaned. Cracks raced across the plaza, swallowing cannons, towers, and men. Buildings collapsed. The Siege Wall crumbled like paper.
Gunnar wasn't just shaking the island.
He was ripping it apart.
He wasn't wielding the quake.
He was the quake.
Smoothie braced herself, her usual calm replaced by flickers of alarm.
Kirin shrieked, feathers ruffling, clinging to Gunnar's shoulder.
And Whitebeard, watching from the center of the storm, felt a mix of horror, pride, and sorrow.
"Gunnar… my son…" he whispered. "You truly intend to end it all…"
The age of cataclysm had begun.
[A/N: 4k Words long chapter. Hope you liked it.]
[A/N: Guys Anything I am missing to add that you might want to see.]