Buzz!

A deafening explosion rang out as a massive repulsive force erupted from the tip of Chiga's staff, engulfing all of Mary Geoise in a single, terrifying instant. Buildings, towers, monuments—everything was reduced to dust.

This was no ordinary Shinra Tensei.

This was Super Shinra Tensei—a technique at the peak of Six Paths power.

When the dust settled, the land that once held the grandeur of Mary Geoise had become a smooth, lifeless plain, glimmering like polished glass. Only one structure still stood far in the distance: a lone palace protected by a straw-hat-shaped energy shield. The protective light shimmered erratically, indicating it was barely holding on.

Only one person remained alive amidst the destruction: the Kimono Five Elder.

He lay in a pool of blood, his left arm and everything below his waist missing. Glaring upward at Chiga, he seemed pitiful—broken, dying, and yet conscious.

Swish!

Chiga appeared in front of him, floating silently. He cast a glance toward the distant palace and asked coolly,

"Im is in there, isn't he?"

A twisted smile formed on the Kimono Elder's face. He gathered the last of his strength and screamed hoarsely,

"Uchiha Chiga! This is your grave! Im-sama will never forgive you!"

But no sooner had he shouted than his expression froze in confusion. His eyes began to reflect the same ripple-pattern seen in Im's gaze, and then—suddenly—his demeanor changed.

"Lo… Lord Im?" he muttered, bewildered.

Chiga's eyes narrowed.

He had sensed it too—a surge of mental energy, a backlash. The Kimono Elder had snapped out of a Genjutsu. His body trembled, and he vomited a mouthful of blood.

"Im… you monster… truly heartless."

He looked at his ruined body and gave a miserable smile. Chiga raised his staff, preparing to finish him off quickly, but the dying elder spoke again.

"Uchiha Chiga… you need to leave this place. Im-sama… he doesn't want to kill you—he wants to feed you to that thing. If he succeeds, he'll gain powers beyond imagination. This world... will end."

For a brief moment, Chiga hesitated.

Though he had no intention of running, the elder's tone was not that of a man trying to stall—he sounded sincere, almost regretful.

The Kimono Five Elders continued. His voice grew faint, but his mind was still lucid.

He had once been considered the most trusted of the Five Elders, a warrior among cowards, a man who still retained some shred of humanity. But that humanity had been Lord Im's target all along—his mind constantly violated, his will slowly twisted. A puppet. A tool.

He remembered it all. Even when he didn't want to obey, his body moved on its own. He was the one who killed the blond-haired Elder against his will. He was conscious, screaming inside—but powerless.

Now, for the first time in years, his mind was his own again. His body, however, was broken beyond repair.

He turned his gaze to Chiga one final time.

"You must know... Im raised you on purpose. You're a key to his plan. If he wins—" he coughed more blood, "—this world will become nothing but scorched earth.**

Chiga remained silent.

The elder reached for a samurai sword that lay beside him. With his only remaining arm, he raised it, offering it to Chiga.

"Give this... to Mihawk. Tell that brat... that not everything I did... was my will. Tell him not to hate me." His voice trembled.

"If fate had been kinder... I'd have liked to hear him call me just once... 'Father.'"

His voice faded, his breath vanished, and silence followed.

The sword remained raised—his final act of will.

Chiga, moved but composed, stepped forward and accepted the sword. As soon as he did, the elder's arm dropped, lifeless. His eyes closed peacefully.

Chiga gently exhaled, summoning a stream of Yomi Chill, encasing the elder's body in a crystal-clear coffin of ice. The frozen casket shimmered faintly, and with a motion, Chiga sent it drifting into the Door-Door Space for safekeeping.

Despite everything, Dracule Mihawk—the "Strongest Swordsman in the World"—was someone Chiga respected. A warrior with clarity of purpose. A true swordsman. Chiga intended to personally deliver the sword and the elder's remains to him.

Just then, a flash of motion caught his eye.

From the distance, Sengoku, Aokiji, Kizaru, Akainu, and Gion arrived, their figures casting long shadows on the polished wasteland that had once been the seat of the Celestial Dragons.

Sengoku's face was grave as he surveyed the devastation.

He already knew who was responsible.

Aokiji crouched, touching the ground with his fingers.

"…Smooth as frozen sea," he whispered. "He actually wiped them all out…"

Kizaru adjusted his yellow-tinted glasses, his usual smile slightly cracked.

"Kowai ne… this is way above the usual paperwork level…"

Akainu said nothing. Beneath the brim of his hat, his lips were pressed tight. Compared to the destruction Chiga had just unleashed, even his Meteor Volcano had been nothing more than a spark.

And yet, there was no resentment in his expression—only resolve.

Gion, however, noticed something different.

Chiga stood still, unmoving, as if deep in thought.

She stepped forward quickly, worry clear in her voice.

"Chiga, are you alright?"

He turned and gave her a tired but gentle smile.

"I'm fine… but this is far from over."

Gion blinked. "What? But you just destroyed Mary Geoise. Could anyone survive that?"

Chiga chuckled lightly. "It's hard for people to survive, yes. But…"

He narrowed his Rinnegan, turning his gaze toward the straw-hat-shaped barrier in the distance.

"…what if they're not people?"

As he finished speaking, a ripple surged through the shield.

Then, three figures stepped out from behind it.

Sengoku and the others rushed to Chiga's side, their eyes locking onto the figures approaching from the fading barrier.

Even Sengoku, usually stoic, gasped in disbelief.

"This… this can't be possible."

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