The chasm Whitebeard had torn through Marineford was a stark, physical representation of the war's turning point. On one side, a desperate, scrambling retreat; on the other, the full, regrouping might of the World Government, and the opportunistic evil of the Blackbeard Pirates.
Sengoku, his golden form radiating fury, bellowed the order. "DO NOT LET THEM ESCAPE! WIPE THEM OUT! CHARGE!"
The Marines, their discipline reasserting itself, roared in response. They surged forward, a tide of white and blue, but their charge was now divided.
Half, under the direct command of furious Vice-Admirals, charged towards the lurking, grinning forms of the Blackbeard Pirates, seeing them as traitors of the highest order. The other half, their faces a mixture of terror and grim determination, charged towards Gunnar, the newly awakened cataclysm who stood as a lone.
Gunnar watched them come, his expression unreadable, the wind whipping his red and white hair. He glanced at Smoothie, who gave him a sharp, appraising nod, then his gaze fell upon Kirin, the magnificent peacock still perched on his shoulder.
"Kirin," Gunnar said, his voice low but clear amidst the chaos.
The peacock trilled, nuzzling against his cheek.
"It's time," Gunnar murmured. "You know what to do. Take Pops. Get him out of here."
"I will not go." Whitebeard's voice, though weak, was iron. He had taken his bisento back and stood, a monument of defiance, leaning heavily on the weapon. "My grave is here, Gunnar. My sons need a rear guard, not a runaway king."
"You've done enough!" Gunnar countered, his voice sharp with desperation. "You're dying, Pops! Your sacrifice is meaningless if it doesn't ensure our future! Let me do this!"
"No!" Whitebeard roared, but the sound was cut short by a violent, wracking cough. He clutched his chest, his one good eye widening in agony. The gaping, magma-seared hole in his torso seemed to steam, and his massive frame trembled. The stress of the war, his wounds, the emotional turmoil of Gunnar's return and rebellion – it was all culminating in a final, catastrophic failure of his legendary body.
"Pops!" Gunnar cried out, taking an instinctive step forward.
"Stay back!" Whitebeard commanded, gritting his teeth against the searing pain. He looked past Gunnar, his gaze finding Ace, who was still trying to shepherd the unconscious Luffy. "ACE! That is my final order! Get everyone on the ships! Make sure they escape! That is your duty now! As a commander! As my son!"
"But Oyaji—!" Ace began, his face a mask of torment.
Gunnar ignored them all. He looked at the magnificent bird on his shoulder. "Kirin, I'm not asking. Forgive me, Pops… but I'm overriding your authority." His voice was steel. "He is your master. Protect him. NOW!"
Kirin seemed to understand. With a piercing shriek that sounded like a thunderclap, the peacock erupted in a flash of iridescent, electrical light. It transformed, not into the smaller Thunderbird from before, but into a truly colossal beast of storm and lightning, its wingspan casting a vast shadow over the plaza.
Before Whitebeard could protest further, before Ace could move, the Thunderbird dove. Its massive talons, crackling with contained lightning, were surprisingly gentle. One set of talons carefully, securely, wrapped around Whitebeard's colossal, wounded torso. Another scooped up Ace and the still-unconscious Luffy.
"GUNNAR, YOU DAMN FOOL!" Whitebeard roared, struggling weakly as he was lifted into the air. "I AM YOUR CAPTAIN! I AM YOUR FATHER! YOU WILL OBEY ME!"
Ace screamed in protest, "LET US GO! GUNNAR!"
But the Thunderbird, obeying its true master's final, desperate command, beat its massive wings and began to ascend, carrying the hope and the history of the Whitebeard Pirates into the war-torn sky.
"Ooooh, a grand aerial escape?" a lazy voice drawled from below. "How very… dramatic. But all flights must be grounded."
Admiral Kizaru, his body a streak of brilliant yellow light, shot into the sky after them, faster than a cannonball, a "Yata no Kagami" light path already forming to accelerate his pursuit.
But he was intercepted. Marco the Phoenix, with a desperate cry, launched himself into the air, his blue flames reigniting with a final, defiant surge. He met Kizaru in a clash of blue fire and yellow light, a dazzling, deadly duel in the clouds.
"Get out of the way, Phoenix!" Kizaru's voice echoed.
"I won't let you touch them, yoi!" Marco retorted, his attacks furious but growing weaker.
Kizaru, with a sigh, ended it. He feinted with a light-beam, and as Marco dodged, Kizaru reformed, his hand shooting out a jab of light on his jaw.
"MARCO!" Ace screamed from above.
But he didn't fall far.
A shadow, colossal and swift, blotted out the sun.
Gunnar, seeing Marco near tired state to barely hold a fight, had made his move. He roared, and in a heart-stopping eruption of steam, ice, and lava, he transformed once more into the 219-foot Ymir titan.
He didn't bother with the Marines on the ground. His massive, lava-veined hand, imbued with a terrifyingly dense Busoshoku Haki, shot upwards and grabbed Kizaru out of the sky. The Admiral, a being of pure light, was physically caught, his form solidified by the sheer force of Gunnar's Haki.
"What?!" Kizaru's usual calm finally shattered into genuine shock.
"Get. Away. From. My. Brother," the titan growled, its voice the grinding of glaciers and the roar of volcanoes.
And with a surge of unimaginable strength, Gunnar threw Kizaru downwards, not just releasing him, but flinging him like a stone from a catapult. The Admiral crashed into the Marineford headquarters with an explosion that shattered an entire wing of the fortress.
The Ymir titan then turned its blazing golden eyes, filled with a terrible, sorrowful resolve, towards the retreating pirate ships and the Thunderbird ascending in the distance.
"EVERYONE!" the titan's voice boomed, a command that was both a plea and a promise. "RETREAT! GET OUT OF HERE, FAST!"
He then turned back, planting his colossal feet amidst the ruins of the plaza. He now stood alone, a giant of fire and ice, a king of a broken throne, facing the full, remaining might of Marineford. Before him, the furious, magma-wreathed Akainu and the grim, frost-covered Aokiji were already advancing. To his side, the Blackbeard Pirates were rising, their captain laughing with avaricious glee.
The pirates behind him, their hearts filled with a mixture of terror, grief, and a newfound, desperate hope, began their full retreat, heeding the call of the son who had taken his father's place as their sacrificial shield.
The Ymir titan, Gunnar, stood as a lone, colossal monarch over a kingdom of ruin. His defiant stand had bought a precious, chaotic moment, but the combined fury of the World Government's legends was now aimed squarely at him.
"You may have inherited your father's power, boy," Sengoku thundered, his golden Buddha form radiating an immense, holy pressure, "but you lack his experience, his restraint! Your recklessness ends now!"
"I'll bury you myself, for the pain you've caused my family, you whelp of a bygone age!" Garp roared, his voice a torrent of furious grief, his fists already glowing with the black, hardened sheen of Busoshoku Haki.
The two legends charged. Garp, a blur of pure Haki-infused power, launched his "Galaxy Fist," a punch that seemed to carry the weight of a star. Sengoku, from the other side, thrust his massive palm forward, unleashing a devastating golden shockwave, a "Buddha's Palm of Judgment."
They aimed to crush the titan between them, a pincer movement of legendary force.
Gunnar, his golden eyes blazing, didn't flinch. He met them head-on. He roared, a sound of grinding glaciers and erupting volcanoes, and brought his own two colossal fists together. The air around them shimmered and cracked, imbued with the raw, untamed power of the Gura Gura no Mi.
"GURA GURA NO... WORLD BREAKER FIST!"
Titan fists met the fists of legends.
KRA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The resulting explosion was not one of fire or ice, but of pure, annihilating force. The ground beneath the three titans simply ceased to exist, vaporized into a massive, expanding crater. The shockwave was a physical wall, flattening everything for hundreds of meters, sending even distant Vice-Admirals tumbling. Gunnar was thrown back, his massive form skidding, his elemental armor cracking under the combined assault. Garp and Sengoku were also forced back, their own Haki-wreathed arms trembling from the sheer, raw power they had met. It was a stalemate, but a stalemate that was tearing Marineford apart at the seams.
While the titans clashed, the desperate escape was in full, chaotic motion. High above, the Thunderbird Kirin, carrying Whitebeard, Ace, and Luffy, beat its massive, storm-wreathed wings. It saw Marco, his powers neutralized, plummeting towards the ice. With a sharp, intelligent cry, Kirin swooped. Its talons, which had so gently cradled an Emperor, now shot out with pinpoint precision, snagging Marco by his clothes, halting his fall and pulling him up towards the growing group of escapees.
One by one, the remaining Whitebeard commanders and key allies, seeing Kirin as their rallying point, began a desperate flight. Vista, using his swordsmanship to leap from falling debris; Jozu, using the last of his strength to make a prodigious leap; Ivankov and Jinbe, fighting their way to a clear spot – they were all gathering, a ragged, battered family trying to obey their father's last wish.
But their escape was not unnoticed.
"You think you can just fly away?!" Akainu roared from below. He launched a colossal magma fist, a "Dai Funka," into the sky, a volcanic eruption aimed at the ascending Thunderbird. Kirin shrieked and veered sharply, the magma passing just beneath it, the intense heat singeing its tail feathers.
From another direction, Blackbeard, now recovered, laughed his obnoxious laugh. "Yami Yami no Mi: BLACK HOLE!" He slammed his hands onto the ground, and a swirling vortex of pure darkness spread, attempting to create a gravitational pull, to drag the Thunderbird and its precious cargo back down from the sky.
The escapees were being pursued, a pincer movement from the ground. It seemed hopeless.
And then, the unexpected happened.
Admiral Aokiji, who had been methodically freezing the battlefield, suddenly appeared directly in the path of Blackbeard and his entire crew. He was no longer fighting pirates; he stood as a barrier against the forces of darkness.
"Ara-ra…" Aokiji drawled, his breath misting, his expression colder than ever before. "Teach. I have no intention of letting Whitebeard's crew escape. But I have even less intention of letting you vultures pick the bones of this battlefield and seize his power for yourselves."
Blackbeard's grin faltered. "Zehahaha! Out of my way, Aokiji! Or do you want to be swallowed by the darkness too?"
"Try it," Aokiji said, his voice flat. He slammed his hand onto the ground. "ICE AGE!"
A colossal, jagged wall of ice, hundreds of feet high and thick as a fortress, erupted from the ground, physically separating the entire Blackbeard crew from the rest of the battlefield. It was a declaration. Aokiji, for his own reasons, for his own "lazy justice," had deemed Blackbeard a greater, more immediate threat to the world's balance than the fleeing, broken pirates.
Shiryu drew his sword, a sadistic smirk on his face. "Heh… looks like the frozen bird wants to play."The entire Blackbeard crew faced off against the lone Admiral, a new, unexpected battlefront opening amidst the ruins.
Gunnar, witnessing this from the heart of his duel with Garp and Sengoku, felt a flicker of grim satisfaction. He had bought them time. He had held the line. His father… his brothers… they had a chance.
He looked at the two legends before him, their faces masks of rage and grief. He looked at the chaos he had wrought, the island groaning its last. He was exhausted, his titan form straining.