Chapter 36

In your five year, After Akainu became Fleet Admiral and Aokiji left the Marines, you were promoted to Admiral. Marines also initiate a World Military Draft to recruit two new admirals, marine need four Admiral in order to be able to compete with pirates, especially the four emperors.

In your sixth year, upon learning Kuma has become a slave-to-rent for the World Nobles as punishment for aiding the Straw Hat Pirates, you are furious and point towards Mary Geoise, only to be stopped by Kizaru and Akainu.

Instead of Fujitora, you demanded Akainu send you to assist Doflamingo. However, Akainu, unwavering, forced you to hunt the Blackbeard Pirates. Undeterred, you leveraged your Admiral rank to visit Doflamingo in the chilling depths of Level 6 Impel Down. You violently subdued the prison guards, seizing the sea-stone key with a clear intent: to free Doflamingo. This act of defiance was preceded by a pact, a clandestine collaboration forged in the shadows. Before making your escape, you cunningly used your Devil Fruit ability to create a perfect clone of Doflamingo, ensuring his continued confinement when the guards regained consciousness.

During the tense Levely, your allegiances shifted as you secretly cooperated with the Revolutionary Army, your shared goal the liberation of Kuma. Following the tumultuous end of Levely, Doflamingo, fulfilling his part of your agreement, unleashed his formidable abilities to ensnare Pangaea Castle, a desperate gambit to prevent the Five Elders from interfering with your audacious plan: the assassination of a Celestial Dragon and God's Knights. Tragically, your ambition was ultimately thwarted; you fell in battle against the formidable leader of the God's Knights and met your end.

Ding!, your Attribute before death: Endurance 882, Strength 910, Agility 840, Spirit 1232.

Ding!, You Battle Skill before death: Sniper (Expert), Six Styles (Expert), Helmsman, Hand to Hand Combat (Expect), Swordman (Master)

Choose one Attribute or Battle Skill to retain.

Isshin Dojo's teachings could only take me so far. I knew that well. So, to rise to the level of master after becoming a disciple there… it was something I carried a quiet, genuine gratitude for.

Doflamingo...

I remember what happened twenty-seven years ago. The first face I saw when I opened my eyes in Mary Geoise… was his father's.

A kind man.

Back then, I didn't know his name, didn't know where I was or why I was there — just a lost, half-starved child, surrounded by cold faces and empty stares. But he saw me. He spoke softly. Gave me food. Let me rest. When the world refused to even acknowledge my existence, he reached out a hand.

For a month, I lived with him and his family. A gentle woman. Two sons — both older than me. I remember their faces even now. One boy had cold, cruel eyes. The other carried a heaviness, a burden in his gaze even then. I didn't know their names, their bloodline, and none of it mattered. They were simply people who took me in.

And during that time… I found myself following the older boy. The one with sharp, commanding eyes. I didn't know who he was, but to a child like me, he looked untouchable — fearless, like the world itself couldn't lay a hand on him. I admired him. Watched how he spoke, how he moved. Wanted to be like him. I didn't see the darkness behind those eyes. I couldn't understand what kind of person he'd become. Back then, he was someone to look up to. Just like his quieter brother, Rosinante.

For the first time in my life, I sat at a table and ate warm meals. I slept without fear of the dark. I heard laughter instead of screams. I didn't question it. Titles, power, bloodlines — none of that meant a thing to me. All I knew was that someone cared enough to help.

Then, one day… the man made a choice. He abandoned everything — wealth, status, the so-called divine title of 'god.' Took his family to live as ordinary people. But before he left, he made sure I wouldn't be forgotten. Found me a home with kind, good people. A family that gave me a life like heaven compared to what I'd known.

For years, I remembered him only as that kind man. I didn't know his name.

And to this day… I still don't know where I come from. Who my parents were. But sometimes, I wonder. Was I the child of a Celestial Dragon and a slave? Is that why I was discarded, unwanted by the heavens and unwelcome among the people below? It's just a theory — but it would explain why no one ever came for me.

Then one day, years later, while digging through the bloody history of the Celestial Dragons… I found him.

Donquixote Homing.

And his two sons — Donquixote Doflamingo and Donquixote Rosinante.

The truth crushed me. The man who saved my life had been a Celestial Dragon. One who'd turned his back on that twisted world because he saw its rot for what it truly was. And then… I learned his fate. How his own son, Doflamingo, murdered him. The boy I'd once admired… the one I'd followed like a fool… had become a monster.

That's where my hatred was born.

And now, this future — where I'm told I'll ally myself with Doflamingo… it makes my blood boil.

Right now, I have no desire greater than seeing him brought to justice for his countless atrocities. The thought of making secret pacts or forging alliances with him is revolting. Maybe, in this future, some catastrophic event forced my hand. Maybe he possesses some vital knowledge or ability too valuable to ignore, a key to preventing something even worse. Or perhaps… I lost my way. Perhaps my future self fell prey to a cruel pragmatism — where the ends justify even the vilest means. Whatever the reason, it's a betrayal of everything I believe now.

And the memory of my defeat still gnaws at me.

By then, I was a master swordsman. Faster, stronger, sharper than ever. By all rights, I should have had the advantage. The God's Knights were formidable, yes — but I could have killed them all. So why did I lose? Why was their leader stronger than me?

I keep turning it over in my mind. Maybe it wasn't just power. Maybe the butterfly effect had shifted the world in ways I couldn't see. Maybe their leader had gained knowledge, abilities, or experience that should never have been his. Or perhaps… it was the field itself. An unseen trap. A fatal moment of hesitation. Or the hand of a third party, hidden in the chaos, tipping the scales.

Victory isn't determined by strength alone. It's timing. It's circumstance. It's the invisible threads that weave together a battle's fate.

And somewhere along the way… my thread snapped.