The battlefield at Port Obsidian had become a nightmare—an apocalyptic ruin ruled by one towering, unstoppable force.
Ymir-Gunnar, the 219-foot titan of ice and lava, moved with cataclysmic power. Every step shattered the ground. His roar echoed like thunder across the island, shaking stone and sky alike.
Amidst the chaos, Ace surged forward, reignited by the shift in momentum. The flames trailing his fists were no longer defensive—they were furious, precise, vengeful.
"You like messing with people's ages, witch?" he snarled.
With a searing arc, he unleashed "ENJŌMŌ!" (Flame Fence!), a blazing ring of fire that ignited around Ain. She dodged desperately, sweat soaking her pink hair, her calm finally cracking. From within the inferno, spears of white fire—Shinka: Shiranui—lanced toward her, forcing her into a panicked retreat. For now, she was cornered, overwhelmed, her focus shattered.
That left Momonga and Bastille facing the impossible: the titan.
It wasn't a battle. It was survival.
Bastille charged, his massive shark-slicer sword gleaming with Haki, only to clash with a descending swipe of Gunnar's icy fingers. The collision sent tremors through his bones and cracked his blade. He was launched backward, skidding like debris across the beach.
Momonga fared better—barely. Using Soru, he darted through crumbling rock and crashing ice. He struck at Gunnar's ankle with razor-quick, Haki-infused slashes. It earned a rumble of pain, but his blades barely nicked the elemental armor. He was a mosquito biting a mountain.
And then, amid it all, stood Zephyr—isolated. He had dodged the initial assault, reading Gunnar's movements through sheer instinct and experience. But the rules of engagement had changed. The scale had changed. And now, for a heartbeat, he was alone.
Ace saw his chance.
With Ain struggling to recover, and the others occupied, Zephyr stood exposed.
"ZEPHYR!" Ace roared, bursting from the ring of fire like a cannonball. Jets of flame erupted from his limbs, launching him toward the former admiral like a living missile.
Zephyr turned, his Battle Smasher humming with power.
"You should've stayed down, Fire Fist," he growled, bracing.
Ace didn't go for finesse. No feints. No tactics.
Just everything he had.
He collided with Zephyr full force, a meteor of fury, his fist driving straight into Zephyr's chest—right over the heart. At that moment, he released it all.
"DAI ENKAI: ENTEI!" (Great Flame Commandment: Flame Emperor!)
It wasn't a punch. It was an eruption. A sun, born of vengeance and desperation, burst from his hand in a deafening blast of fire and pressure. Zephyr's eyes widened. His seastone arm wasn't positioned to block it. The inferno engulfed him, lifting him off his feet.
The blast hurled Zephyr backward, a charred silhouette framed by the explosion. He tumbled through the air, over beach and forest, vanishing into the volcanic heart of the island.
Ace didn't stop.
Trailing fire, he streaked after Zephyr like a guided missile, flames crackling around his body.
"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY!" he roared, voice raw with exhaustion and adrenaline.
Both vanished over the ridge, leaving only the fading echo of their passage.
---
With Ace and Zephyr gone, the battlefield fell under the shadow of Ymir-Gunnar.
Ain, scorched and gasping, stared up at the colossal titan with dawning horror. This was beyond training, beyond imagination.
"This... this is an abomination!" Bastille shouted, staggering to his feet, helmet crooked. With a battle cry, he charged again, aiming for the titan's knee.
Gunnar flexed.
The air shuddered with kinetic force. The shockwave flattened Bastille mid-charge, hurling him like a ragdoll.
Momonga barked orders even as he dodged falling debris. "Ain! His joints! We target the legs—bring him down! Bastille, aim for the same point!"
But Gunnar only laughed—a deep, grinding sound like glaciers colliding.
"BRING ME DOWN? YOU PATHETIC ANTS!"
He raised his molten arm—not to strike, but to engulf. Lava poured from his palm like a river, surging toward Momonga. The Vice Admiral barely evaded, Soru and instinct saving him by inches as the heat scorched the ground.
Ain spotted an opening. Gunnar's focus was on Momonga.
She dashed forward, hand glowing with her aging touch, aiming for the icy armor at the back of his ankle.
She never made it.
A shriek split the sky—Kirin, the great bird, swooped down in a blur. A lightning bolt, thick as a ship's mast, slammed into the ground before Ain with a blinding crack. The shockwave blasted her back, tumbling across the scorched earth. The bird circled overhead, crackling with storm energy, guarding its master.
"GOOD BIRD!" Gunnar bellowed, amused.
Then he turned on Momonga.
His icy hand slammed down—not to crush, but to trap. A jagged wall of frost exploded from the ground, hundreds of feet high, encircling the Vice Admiral.
Momonga leapt, using Geppo to reach the top of the unstable ice.
He stood, sword drawn, silhouetted against the chaos below, face grim.
This wasn't a fight anymore. It was defiance in the face of a god.
And Vice Admirals didn't back down.
---
Meanwhile, deep in the heart of the island...
Zephyr crashed through a grove of petrified trees, his body tearing a gouge into the volcanic terrain before finally skidding to a halt in a storm of dust and fractured rock. Smoke curled from the cracks in his armor, his Battle Smasher sputtering with sparks. Ace's Flame Emperor had landed clean, bypassing Zephyr's Seastone defense through sheer intensity and proximity.
Groaning, Zephyr pushed himself up. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
A streak of flame slammed into the earth in front of him. Ace landed hard, knuckles still smoldering, breath ragged, but eyes blazing with relentless fire.
"No more running, old man," he panted, body aching, Bastille's earlier blow still throbbing in his side. But this—this moment—was his. Zephyr was alone.
The former Admiral stood tall, his one good eye narrowing with murderous cold. Wounded. Humiliated. Furious. But unbroken.
"You persistent little ember," Zephyr rasped, voice gravelly. "You'll regret leaving me behind."
Ace bared his teeth in a grin. "That was the idea. No distractions. Just you and me. Let's see if your brand of 'justice' can handle Whitebeard's hellfire at full burn."
Flames ignited around him—hotter, tighter, more focused. Pain fueled him. Humiliation fed the blaze. And the thought of his brothers fighting for their lives turned it into an inferno.
Zephyr's Battle Smasher roared, electricity arcing between its fractured plates. His other fist clenched, black with Haki.
The scorched clearing became their arena—two legacies colliding: the aging titan of justice versus the firebrand son of pirates.
The air sizzled with heat and fury.
"You fight for a corpse's dream!" Zephyr bellowed, lunging. The Battle Smasher came down like a meteor. "Whitebeard's era is dead!"
Ace met him head-on, roaring, "KAIKA: HIBASHIRA!" A vortex of flame burst to life, swirling into a flaming pillar. Zephyr's Seastone-laced fist plunged into it, slowing in a shriek of grinding metal.
Ace pivoted. His leg snapped out, wrapped in fire. "ENJŌ: KICK!"
The kick slammed against Zephyr's side armor, staggering him. The older man retaliated instantly, Haki-infused fist striking at Ace's throat.
Ace ducked. Flames surged up. "HIRYŪ: KAEN!" A dragon-shaped uppercut roared skyward. Zephyr leaned back just in time—but his chin singed. He countered with a crushing overhead swing.
Ace dematerialized into embers, reforming behind him. His hands flared. "HOTARUBI: HIDARUMA!" A swarm of fireflies exploded toward Zephyr's back, peppering him with tiny, stinging blasts.
Zephyr snarled, swatting at the barrage. "Parlor tricks! That's all the Whitebeard's son has?!"
"I'm not Roger's son!" Ace thundered. "I'm no one's Son!"
He charged, fists blurring. "JUJIKA!" A cross-shaped blast screamed toward Zephyr.
The Battle Smasher came up in defense, groaning under the pressure. Sparks flew as Ace poured in more flame, trying to break through.
Zephyr grimaced. "Your fire… it's evolved…"
"It's not just mine!" Ace roared. "It's every dream you've tried to crush!"
Then—click.
Zephyr's arm opened with a hiss, firing a volley of Seastone-tipped darts. They struck Ace's arms and shoulders with surgical precision.
Ace cried out, staggering as the weakening effect took hold. His flames flickered.
"Cheap tricks—!"
"There's no such thing in war!" Zephyr barked. He surged forward, Haki fist burying itself into Ace's ribs.
Bones cracked. Ace dropped, coughing blood. His fire dimmed.
Zephyr stood over him, breathing heavy, the Battle Smasher sparking. "It's over."
Ace lifted his head, eyes burning with something deeper than fire.
"Not yet…"
He slammed both fists into the earth. The ground pulsed.
"KYOKAEN!" Fire erupted from the volcanic rock itself, exploding into a geyser beneath Zephyr's feet.
The old Marine was launched skyward, screaming as his armor split apart, scorched and cracked.
Ace rose after him, a phoenix reborn, flying straight into the sky.
"THIS—IS EVERYTHING!"
His body ignited, golden and white-hot. Arms wrapped around Zephyr mid-air. "DAI ENKAI: ENTEI – MAX OUTPUT!"
A sun bloomed in the sky.
The explosion was nuclear—flattening stone, vaporizing moisture, blinding the horizon. It scorched the island itself.
Then, silence.
Two figures fell from the heavens.
Zephyr hit first, a blackened wreck. His Battle Smasher was slag. Armor shattered. He didn't move. His eye stared at the sky, blank.
Ace crashed down moments later. The fire was gone. Blood soaked through torn clothes. Darts still pierced him. He lay on his back, barely breathing.
But he had won.
With effort, he turned his head. Far beyond the peaks, he saw the towering form of Ymir-Gunnar, still fighting.
A weak smile touched his lips.
"Heh… hell of a show, Gunnar…"
Then his eyes rolled back, and Fire Fist Ace—slipped into unconsciousness beneath the shattered sky of Port Obsidian.