One Piece : Brotherhood

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*****

Elder Saturn's voice rumbled through the transponder snail, thick with fury and menace.

"Rosinante...!" he growled, his rage palpable even through the crackling connection.

Doflamingo, seated with his feet propped on the table, chuckled darkly. "Fufufufufu! Little brother, meet one of the esteemed Elders of the World Government, Elder Saturn." His voice was light, playful even, though there was an edge beneath the amusement.

"And Saturn... I don't think I need to introduce my little brother to you, now do I? After all, it seems you've recently increased both his bounty and mine by quite a significant amount."

Doflamingo's tone shifted, the jovial mockery replaced by something more dangerous, more venomous. "Tell me, Saturn, do you take me for a pushover?"

What began as a conversation between Rosinante and Doflamingo had now become an impromptu three-way confrontation, with Elder Saturn caught in the web—and clearly not pleased. His irritation was barely contained, and his frustration was boiling over.

"You think you and your brother are untouchable?" Saturn's voice thundered, his authority shaking the air as if he could reach through the snail and crush them both.

Doflamingo yawned, pressing a finger lazily into his ear as if to block out the Elder's voice, mocking the threat with his nonchalance.

"Fufufufu… Elder Saturn, you really ought to calm down. It's bad for your heart. And besides, are you sure you want to pick another fight right now? From where I'm sitting, it looks like your plate's already overflowing." He leaned back, the smirk never leaving his face.

"We could turn this into a full-blown war if you'd like, but are you prepared for the consequences? You've already lost half your face... Care to wager the other half?" Doffy's laughter echoed, cold and biting.

On the other end, Elder Saturn's brow furrowed in rage. How did Doflamingo know about that? The punishment from Imu-sama—the horrific scar across his face—was something known to only a handful of individuals in the upper echelons of the government. Yet here was the little bastard, throwing it in his face like a taunt.

But that wasn't what unnerved Saturn the most. It was the way both brothers spoke—so calm, so collected, almost dismissive of the catastrophe that had engulfed the world. They claimed no responsibility, but the timing, the scale of the attack on the World Government's authority—it pointed straight to them.

Only a few organizations had the resources, the wealth, and the influence to pull off such a grand-scale operation. And at the top of that list was the Donquixote family. They weren't just pirates—they were power brokers, controlling over eighty percent of the Grand Line's weapon trade, with an empire built on blood and steel.

And worse still, even the World Government bought weapons from them in bulk. The sheer wealth and influence they wielded made them dangerous—far more dangerous than the typical pirate.

"You kids," Saturn spat, the venom in his voice thick, "have no idea what happens when the world truly descends into chaos. You think this is some game? That you can toy with the balance of power without consequences?" He was fishing for information, trying to discern whether they were behind the bounties.

He didn't believe for a second that they weren't involved, at least indirectly. Morgans had vanished, and the Donquixote family's reach into the underworld was deep—if anyone had an idea who was behind it, it would be them.

"Fufufufu… kids? You still call us kids, Elder Saturn?" Doflamingo's laugh had a sharp, mocking edge. His eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping on the table with growing irritation. "How naive of you. After all this time, after we've beaten you at your own game time and time again, you still think we're children?"

His voice lowered, but the menace in it was unmistakable. "Perhaps you've forgotten what happens when we're provoked. Maybe it's time I remind you. What do you think, Elder Saturn? Should I cleanse the New World of Marines? Turn every corner into a battleground? Watch your precious forces crumble?"

Saturn's silence was heavy, the tension between them stretching like a taut wire about to snap. He wasn't accustomed to being spoken to this way, let alone by a former Celestial Dragon, a traitor, no less. But the truth gnawed at him—Doflamingo wasn't bluffing. He had the means, the influence, and the audacity to back up his threats.

"You—" Saturn's voice broke through, filled with fury, but there was a note of something else in it too. Uncertainty. He had never expected the situation to spiral this far out of control. The chaos was beyond what even the World Government could manage, and now, in the midst of it, he was locked in a power struggle with two of the most dangerous men alive.

"You're in over your head, Donquixote," Saturn snarled. "This isn't about petty grudges. You have no idea what forces you're meddling with."

Doflamingo's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with that familiar hunger for chaos. "Fufufufu… oh, Saturn. You think this is the worst it can get? You haven't even seen the beginning of what's coming."

I, who had been silent until now, spoke again, my voice calm but chilling. "Elder Saturn, I suggest you tread carefully. Because from where I stand, the world is already on fire. The only question left is: who gets burned the most?"

Elder Saturn's voice crackled through the transponder snail, heavy with menace. "I didn't reach out to exchange pleasantries, Donquixote. I'm here to warn you—if you had nothing to do with this chaos, stay out of it."

Doflamingo's lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with delight at the Elder's attempt at intimidation. "Fufufufu... Or what, Saturn?" His voice was laced with amusement.

"Are you going to threaten us by blowing up Dressrosa? Or maybe—just maybe—you'll grace us with a personal visit?" He paused, his laughter bubbling to the surface. "Oh, I can't wait to see which one you pick!"

Elder Saturn's fury simmered over the line, his patience wearing thin. "Donquixote... if death is what you seek, I can grant it. Maybe I will make that wish come true and pay a personal visit to Dressrosa." His voice dropped into a sinister chuckle, the promise of violence clear in his tone.

Doflamingo snickered, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of excitement and disdain. "Why don't you try it, Elder Saturn? In fact, let me up the stakes." His grin widened as he leaned closer to the transponder snail.

"I wonder what would happen if I descended on the Holy Land. How many Celestial Dragon heads do you think I could lop off before making my escape?" His words dripped with lethal intent, and the threat hung in the air, daring Saturn to respond. "Care to wager who can cause more damage? Me... or you?"

A tense silence followed. On the other end of the line, Saturn's anger was palpable, but beneath that fury, a flicker of hesitation crept in. He had never faced open threats like this—especially not from someone who had once been a part of the Celestial Dragons.

Dofflamingo's boldness had always been dangerous, but this time it felt different. The elder couldn't shake the unsettling realization that Doflamingo might just be willing to follow through with his insane threat.

It was then that I, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke, my voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "Why don't we both do what we do best, Saturn?" I said the elder's name with a deliberate slowness, letting it sink in.

"You had the audacity to target my little brother, but I don't think you fully understand what that means. You've all been far too comfortable these past few years, thinking you're untouchable." Doffy's tone darkened. "It's time you started watching your own backs. You never know when the axe might come crashing down."

The line went quiet again, Saturn likely fuming in frustration, unable to act on his threats as quickly as he would've liked. It was a dangerous game of brinkmanship, and both sides were testing how far they could push the other.

Doflamingo broke the silence, his voice still dripping with dark amusement. "You see, Elder Saturn, you've spent years thinking you're invincible. But the world's shifting, and if you haven't noticed... we're not playing by your rules anymore."

The elder snarled, his voice low and menacing, but it was clear the brothers had gotten under his skin. "Don't think you can bluff your way through this, Donquixote. You don't know the forces you're meddling with."

Doflamingo's eyes glinted with that familiar hunger for chaos, and Rosinante's voice cut through, sharp and final. "We know exactly what we're meddling with, Saturn. And we'll be seeing you soon."

The call ended with an abrupt click, leaving the tension hanging thick in the air. The brothers had made their stance clear: they wouldn't be intimidated, they wouldn't be manipulated, and if the World Government wanted to provoke them further, they were more than ready to return the favor—tenfold.

******

Marie Geoise, Red Line

As Elder Saturn disconnected the call, his brow furrowed even deeper. The room, known as the Chamber of Authority, was thick with tension. The other elders—men who had ruled the world from the shadows for centuries—sat silently, their eyes fixed on Saturn, awaiting his response.

More than half of his face was now marred, twisted like ancient, withered bark. If he were an ordinary man, he might have hidden such a disfigurement beneath a mask or shroud. But Saturn wore his scar proudly, a symbol of his survival—a mark to remind both himself and his fellow elders of the cost of complacency.

"We've grown soft," Saturn thought, his eyes narrowing. Imu-sama had been right. They had lost their edge, fooling themselves into believing that they were merely stewards of the balance. But the World Government was the balance—no, it was the authority that governed the balance.

They had forgotten the ruthless truth: when anyone dared challenge their rule, destruction, not negotiation, should be their first course of action. Their power wasn't to be maintained through dialogue or diplomacy; it was to be upheld through fear, dominance, and swift annihilation.

Elder Nusjuro broke the silence, his voice shaky with unease. "Do you think it's them?"

The others in the room shifted slightly. Morgans had vanished without a trace, and Cipher Pol had proven ineffective, as if the once-feared shadow operatives had become ghosts, their claws dulled. Nusjuro's words seemed to hang in the air, but Elder Saturn dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand.

"It's not them," Saturn said with cold certainty. "If it were Doflamingo, he'd make sure we knew. His arrogance, his pride—those are his weaknesses. No, this is someone else... someone far more cunning."

Elder Ju Peter leaned forward, his doubt clear in his voice. "Maybe that's what the two brothers want us to think. Maybe they know we'd suspect them and are playing the long game, masking their involvement to confuse us."

Saturn's eyes blazed with sudden intensity. "Are you questioning my judgment?" His calm, typically unshakable composure had eroded, replaced by something sharper. The near-death experience had rattled him to his core.

For centuries, they had manipulated the world like puppet masters, pulling strings from the shadows, never needing to fear direct confrontation. But now, the strings were fraying, and the puppets were moving on their own.

Elder Warcury clenched his fists in frustration, the veins on his arms bulging. "Then, if not Donquixote, who? When was the last time someone dared put us in such a position? It's been centuries since we were toyed with like this. And now, we're left in the dark."

"It's someone who knows our secrets," Saturn replied, his voice cold and measured. "Someone bold enough to challenge us head-on, yet wise enough to remain hidden. They're creating chaos to weaken us. They know that in disorder, power slips through our fingers. They want to fracture the World Government, bit by bit, before making their move."

Saturn mused aloud, his voice dark and foreboding. He crossed his arms, gripping his staff as if drawing strength from it. "They've set the world ablaze with these bounties, sowing chaos to buy themselves time—time to weaken our forces, spread disorder, and achieve their objectives. Whoever this is, they know us, they know our system, and they know how to dismantle it."

"Whoever it is, they're confident," Elder Ju Peter added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "To put such bounties on our heads… they're sending a message."

"And it's not just about the money." Saturn's eyes narrowed as he reached for the stack of bounty posters on the table. Each one had their names—real names—with no titles, no pomp, just cold, bold statements of intent. "Look at this. No titles. No 'Elders,' no 'World Nobles.' It means whoever did this doesn't fear us… or the Celestial Dragons."

Warcury let out a long, exasperated sigh. "So, what do we do? Sit here and watch the world burn? We don't even have a single clue about who's pulling the strings!"

Saturn's gaze sharpened as he turned toward the stack of papers in front of him. "Maybe we do. Maybe we just haven't looked close enough."

At the center of the table lay a pile of bounty posters, a peculiar sight. These weren't the usual posters seen across the seas. These had the portraits of the Five Elders themselves. The resemblance was uncanny, though imperfect, as if sketched from memory. Each poster bore a price on their heads—a bounty higher than any pirate currently alive.

The others leaned in, studying the bounties that matched their names:

[WANTED]

[JAYGARCIA SATURN]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[5,032,000,000 BERRIES]

[WANTED]

[ETHANBARON V NUSJURO]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[5,017,000,000 BERRIES]

[WANTED]

[SHEPHERD JU PETER]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[5,012,000,000 BERRIES]

[WANTED]

[MARCUS MARS]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[5,009,000,000 BERRIES]

[WANTED]

[TOPMAN WARCURY]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[5,003,000,000 BERRIES]

"Whoever drew these has seen us before," Saturn remarked grimly, breaking the silence. "But look closer. The names—plain as day, without our titles. Whoever made these doesn't fear us. Not the World Nobles. Not the Government. They despise us."

He pulled out a particularly intriguing poster and laid it flat on the table, his gaze hardening. The Elders gathered around, their eyes widening at the sight of a name they hadn't expected.

[WANTED]

[FIGARLAND GARLING]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[4,200,000,000 BERRIES]

"Garling's strength has been a well-kept secret, hidden from the world even more than our own. The only ones who knew his true power were there at God Valley." Saturn's voice grew darker.

"Whoever put this bounty knows the truth. Back then, Garling fought Whitebeard and even managed to hold him back. He wasn't just another Celestial Dragon—he was a monster among our ranks. And there is only one name that crosses my mind." Elder Saturn's voice echoed

The room grew colder. Elder Mars gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white with tension. "Xebec... There's no way he survived." His voice was low, almost a growl. "God Valley was razed to the ground to bury that monster. He died with the island, along with his grand ambitions. How could he be alive?"

Elder Saturn's expression darkened. "Garling's strength is known only to those who were at God Valley. He stood toe-to-toe with Whitebeard—held him to a standstill. Whoever put this bounty out knows the true measure of his power."

Mars shook his head, rejecting the possibility. "This has to be the work of Whitebeard or Kaido. They were there at God Valley. They know about Garling. Maybe they're trying to stir up old ghosts."

Saturn's eyes flicked to another poster, the one that carried the highest bounty. He placed it in front of them, his voice grave.

Saturn remained calm, but the others could sense the gravity of his next move. He placed another poster on the table, one with a name that made the air in the room grow cold.

[WANTED]

[MONKEY D. GARP]

[ONLY ALIVE]

[5,564,800,000 BERRIES]

The number struck them all. It wasn't random—it was deliberate.

"The exact same bounty as Roger's," Saturn whispered. "This means that whoever's responsible sees Garp and Roger as equals. And notice—the poster says 'Only Alive.' This is more than a price on his head. It's a demand. Either they respect him, or they want him alive for something far worse."

The elders exchanged uneasy glances. The implications of this poster were chilling. To place Garp above even the Five Elders was a calculated insult, an open defiance of their authority.

Elder Nusjuro, still rattled by the information, pressed on. "What if this is a distraction? They might be using Garp's name to throw us off, to lead us down a false trail while they continue to scheme in the shadows."

Saturn nodded but did not soften his tone. "Perhaps. But we cannot dismiss the possibility that the man is still alive. If that man had survived… if any remnants of the old era linger, they could unravel everything we've built. We must act swiftly."

For the first time in centuries, the Elders felt truly vulnerable. Their enemies had finally stepped out of the shadows, but the World Government was no longer in control. The game had changed, and the stakes were higher than ever.

The room fell into a tense silence. For the first time in centuries, the Five Elders felt something unfamiliar—doubt. The idea that Xebec or someone connected to that dark chapter of history was still alive sent a shiver through even the most hardened among them.

Elder Saturn stood, his voice heavy with finality. "We must prepare for the worst. If Xebec or any remnant of his legacy has returned, then the chaos we've seen so far is only the beginning."

Elder Warcury let out a sharp breath. "What if we are all wrong? What if, like I said earlier, this is a distraction? A ploy to turn our attention to some old ghost who might already be dead? Meanwhile, the true mastermind stays in the shadows."

Saturn's gaze hardened, his grip tightening on his staff. "It's possible, but we can't rule out the other possibility—that this is all connected to God Valley. And if it is, we need to face the terrifying reality that there may be forces in play we've long thought buried."

The Elders exchanged grim looks. The world was changing, and for the first time in their long reign, they didn't control the winds of fate. Someone else did.

And that someone might just be the ghost of a legend—a name they had buried long ago, a name that had nearly torn the world apart.

Rocks D. Xebec.

If that ghost was rising from the ashes of God Valley or even someone related to him, then the true storm had only just begun.

*****

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