Whitebeard couldn't help but be worried even as he stood and watched his son and his son's rookie brother slowly making their way back across the battlefield. It almost seemed too perfect to be true, although the monumental efforts it took to get this far weren't something to dismiss as a simple feat. It was just that he had the feeling that something could go horribly wrong at the last possible minute. In his experience, the sea was a fickle beast that answered to no master and favored none; fate was much the same way. So he kept his guard up and prayed that Ace would do the same.

Being freed from his sea stone shackles meant nothing if he never returned to his family safely.

When Ace bowed to him and asked a question to which he really should have known the answer, dread rose in the old captain's gut.

His worries quickly turned out to be founded as Akainu spat nonsense about Whitebeard. He stared in horror as Ace gave in to Akainu's taunts and turned around to face his demise. That wasn't a fight his son could win, yet Ace didn't seem to care.

Didn't he know that Whitebeard's name and pride meant nothing in comparison to his family's safety and happiness. Had he not drilled that important lesson deep enough into Ace's thick skill?

Or had this whole experience been too much for his son to handle emotionally?

Either way, Whitebeard stared hopelessly at the confrontation that he was almost certain would lead to his son's gruesome demise.

But just before Akainu went on the offensive, an object crashed into the ground between them. The battlefield froze at the sudden arrival, staring in surprise at the small crater that was created by the collision. Whitebeard tensed, wondering if this was another one of Sengoku's schemes. Risking a glance up at the Fleet Admiral, the Yonko quickly realized that he was equally caught off-guard.

A small groan—only audible because of the still silence that rapidly spread through the battlefield—emerged from the crater. Whitebeard couldn't help but give it his full attention. That object had actually been a person? But which side was this person on? And where did they come from? How did they manage to arrive without garnering anyone's attention? It was an absurd thought, regardless of the chaotic nature of battle, all the major players were on high alert. And yet, here this person was.

As the person shifted to their feet, Whitebeard could only ponder their origin. They certainly weren't one of his own allies, perhaps they had arrived with Strawhat? But then what had this person been doing so high up in the air, falling so quickly that either he had been thrown to the ground or had been falling from a great height?

The figure stood to their full stature (which wasn't much to speak of, slightly shorter than even Strawhat) and looked around as though they were surprised by their surroundings. It almost seemed as though the man was confused, but it was difficult to tell with the strange outfit that covered him head to toe. Reluctantly, Whitebeard attempted to feel for the stranger's intentions with his Observation Haki, which was a challenge, as he had always been bad at sensing anything more specific than the presence of a person.

The only thing he picked up from the man was a hint of confusion, which given Whitebeard's less than impressive ability to sense emotion, implied that this stranger was all but drowning in it.

At the very least, the new arrival made everybody hesitate, so nobody was in any danger from allowing their attention to divert towards the new arrival. The battlefield was silent, all combatants practically frozen in place as they took in what was merely the latest surprise in a large line of other dramatic surprises that had been revealed throughout the conflict.

The stranger took the opportunity created by their hesitation to take in the scene around him in its entirety. The man glanced behind him, noting the injured Strawhat and Ace who stared back at him with what was probably equal confusion.

The man quickly looked back towards Akainu, who was quickly brushing aside his shock in preparation to attack. The stranger stole one last glance at the rest of the battlefield before nodding. It appeared that the man had come to a decision, as he shifted into a defensive stance.

As if a switch had been flipped, Akainu went on the offensive again, reaching forward to slam his magma fist into the stranger for getting in his way. Instead of pulling away or dodging, the man met the punch with one of his own. Instead of getting melted through instantly (as everyone must have been expecting), the man's punch sent shockwaves strong enough to push the opposing fist out of his way, splattering the magma that made up Akainu's arm all over the pavement behind him.

Some of the splatters hit other marines, but Whitebeard paid them no mind. All of his own children were out of the way of the magma, but he was concerned at the sight of Ace and his brother being blown back by the shockwaves that had decimated Akainu.

He watched Akainu's surprise from the corner of his eye, focusing on the way that Strawhat struggled to get back on his feet after he'd been knocked off of them. Ace's lips were pulled back in a vicious snarl, but one look at his younger brother was all it took to keep him from attacking the admiral or accosting the stranger.

Marco took this as his cue to launch into action, flying towards the brothers in hopes of dragging them away from what was sure to turn into a bloody fight. Whitebeard frowned as Ace protested the retreat, reluctantly returning his attention to some pitiful marines who dared to attack him while he was distracted.

He cleared out the horde in front of him and briefly returned his attention to the stranger. The stranger was staring at Akainu, gently shaking his hand before re-adjusting his stance. They stood at a brief standstill as the admiral reformed his arm and glared at the short man. Whitebeard was conflicted on whether he should assist or not, however it didn't seem to matter much as the stranger seemed to decide something and readied himself to go on the offensive.

The new pose was decidedly odd, as the man braced himself with his legs, rotating his torso so that his right shoulder was more aligned with his body as he outstretched his right arm in front of him. Akainu took a step forward, readying himself for another punch as the stranger brought his left arm up to brace the right and positioned his fingers as though he were about to flick them.

The admiral surged forward, but in the blink of an eye, a huge blast of air sent his entire body splattering even further than before. Not a single part of the admiral's body remained intact, all broken apart into little puddles of magma that sizzled on the surrounding ground.

Whitebeard stared in shock at the sight of such a small man easily overpowering the notoriously dangerous admiral. The Yonko couldn't help but wonder if this was the result of a devil fruit or if this man was simply that strong. He couldn't even begin to guess what type of devil fruit would manifest in this way, but then again, Strawhat's devil fruit was a prime example of using seemingly useless abilities in an incredible way.

Either way, Newgate was grateful for the distraction. Marco had almost made it back to the one of their retreating ships with the two brothers. His other sons were deftly cutting off any marines that dared to make chase, meaning that this war was about to end, one way or another.

The captain let himself breathe deeply for a moment, building his resolve to make what he had been slowly figuring out would be his final stand. He would proudly protect his children with his last breath.

His heart ached at the thought of leaving them, but he had made peace with his inevitable death long ago. He would gladly give his life for his children, his only regret was that he hadn't gotten his affairs in order. But such was family. He trusted them to take care of it for him.

Whitebeard takes one last glance at the stranger who had saved his son's life, intending to warn him to get back and retreat, but in that moment of weakness, a new presence appeared.

An overzealous laugh immediately clued him in as to who it was.

The back-stabbing traitor, Teach.

No… Blackbeard.

"I'm surprised," the bastard commented, stopping to laugh once more, "You actually managed to save the Commander! I'm impressed."

Whitebeard grit his teeth, trying to hold back the anger that instantly bubbled up in his gut. That anger began to boil as the traitor turned his attention to the stranger, whose full attention was locked onto Blackbeard in return.

"And who is that? A new recruit? You always were a sentimental, old fool."

"Sentimental maybe, but I'm hardly a fool. You're no longer my son," Whitebeard proclaimed, hoping to take the bastard's attention off of the stranger.

"Ah, no matter. You're weakened, which means that this is the perfect opportunity I was looking for!"

Newgate scowled and struck Blackbeard with one of his shattering punches, to end his disgusting existence for good, but instead of splintering the traitor's skull into a million pieces, he was met with a strange black vortex that appeared to nullify his attack.

"How do you like being unable to use your power? It's terrifying, isn't it?" Blackbeard goaded.

Instead of dignifying his taunts with a response, Whitebeard shifted tactics and struck the bastard with his weapon.

The bastard, in between pained grunts, demanded, "Would you kill your own son?"

"As I said before, you are no son of mine!"

Blackbeard shouted in pain, "Kill him, men! Don't hold back! I want his devil fruit! Its power will be mine and nobody can stop me!"

Whitebeard's breath caught in his throat, his rage freezing in his veins as he realized just what would happen to him. Dozens of projectile weapons were pointed at him, prepared and ready to fire at near point-blank range. The captain didn't even bother mentally calculating how much ammunition they had, the dread building up in his gut as he realized all it would take was one well-placed hit and the sheer number would become irrelevant.

He braced himself for the inevitable onslaught, still putting all of his strength into his attack on Blackbeard. As long as he could just kill that bastard, Newgate would be satisfied with all that he had come here to do. In a moment of weakness, hearing the familiar clicking of guns, the captain let his eyes slip shut, awaiting their fire.

Yet instead of bullets, a blast of air pressure almost knocked him over. His eyes shot open, unsure of what to expect as he was met with a moving blur.

As he adjusted his stance to keep from falling onto his back, Whitebeard stared at the scene in front of him. The stranger appeared in his line of sight inhumanly fast, green sparks of lightning surrounding him. The light illuminated his body, revealing that the fabric he was wearing was stained with something, making it seem much darker than it likely was.

Whitebeard watched in awe as the stranger kicked the open air, sending another shockwave towards the traitor's subordinates, effectively knocking them off their feet and sending them flying into the distance.

Blackbeard, however, was a different story. The monster of a man groaned before quickly delving back into his grating laugh despite his pathetic position on the ground.

"Incredible! Perhaps your power is worth more than Whitebeard's. I spent a lot of time researching devil fruits, yet I have no idea which one you possess! Perhaps it's an artificial devil fruit? Either way, I'll be sure to make good use of it! Zehahahahahahaha!"

The stranger—who appeared much more menacing up-close—didn't dignify the bastard with a response, merely crouching in preparation for another attack.

Whitebeard grinned a bit as he positioned himself to go on the offensive alongside this stranger that had proved to be their ally. Yet the man chose this moment to finally speak with a scratchy—yet somehow still soft—voice, taking the Yonko by surprise.

"I can handle this. You should go."

"I thank you for your help, but this is not your fight, boy," Whitebeard replied, neither of the pair removing their gaze from Blackbeard's injured body.

"You have people to live for, don't you? Can't you hear them? Go after them. Protect them."

The old man flinched, finally registering that his children were all pleading for him to retreat now that everyone else was ready to go.

"I'll cover you, so get a move on!"

Reluctantly, Whitebeard conceded and began to retreat, relishing in the relieved cheers of his children. He allowed himself one final glance back at the traitor and the stranger just in time to see what he had initially assumed to be strange, thick cloth strands flare out for a second, giving the stranger a split-second appearance of a monster.

But Whitebeard couldn't help but think that the real monster was the traitor, not the stranger. Besides, no real monster could have a voice as kind as that stranger's.

Just as quickly as the monstrous look appeared, it was covered by a sudden burst of purple smoke flaring out from the stranger. The captain pushed his surprise down in favor of continuing his retreat, yet that didn't stop him from wondering how all of this was possible from the same power.

Perhaps it was some mix of a devil fruit and the techniques the marines used.

He supposed it didn't matter, so long as the stranger made it out of this conflict alive. Whitebeard wasn't sure if he could forgive himself for allowing a stranger to take his place in this fight if it resulted in certain death. He would be forever grateful, but there was a part of him that had hoped he would go out with a big show, in a way reminiscent of Roger.

This was a big show, for sure, but if he wasn't going out with it, there were some serious consequences to their actions that might create bigger threats for his family.

Once Whitebeard made it to one of his children's ships that he had sensed Ace on, he immediately ordered their full retreat. His children began fluttering about to follow his instructions, clearly relieved that his previous final orders did not turn out to be his last. As he stood on the deck, he turned around to bear witness to the fight he had abandoned in favor of his family.

It was difficult to see what was happening, as the smoke covered at least half of the battlefield at this point, but the screams of marines and the enraged shouts of Blackbeard made it clear that the stranger was holding his own quite well.

Whitebeard reluctantly turned around as he registered a powerful presence appear beside the ship.

"Brat," he greeted, "You're a little late, don't you think?"

"Me? Late? Perhaps. But I believe protecting your territory from Kaido was a just cause, don't you think?" Roger's former cabin-boy chuckled.

"As you say," Whitebeard reluctantly conceded.

"I see you and my anchor did a fine job of rescuing Ace. I'm glad," the red-haired emperor's easy-going attitude quickly dried up, "I think it's time I bring an end to this war."

"That would be for the best."

"We'll catch up later then."

Whitebeard watched as Shanks made his way to the battlefield, wondering if he would make it in time to save the stranger. Perhaps he should do something to help as well.

As if his first mate had read his mind, Marco appeared by his side and shot him a knowing look.

"Could you please retrieve that stranger. I'd like to thank him for all he's done."

Marco huffed, "Don't act like you don't also want to adopt him, Pops."

"Gurahahahahaha! You're getting cheeky, brat."

"I'll be back before you know it."

Hopefully with the stranger alive, neither of them said, but both of them thought.


Midoriya wasn't entirely sure what had just happened.

The last thing he remembered was being overwhelmed by a crowd of civilians that were being controlled by the third assassin sent by All for One. If he was being honest, Midoriya wasn't entirely sure how he would get out of the predicament without hurting any civilians. He had left UA to protect not only his classmates, but the citizens of Japan as well, yet here he was, failing them.

It crushed him from the inside out, but he was much too tired to let himself feel those emotions. As soon as he let them in, it would be like a dam with a small leak. It would be insignificant at first, but then it would rapidly deteriorate and eventually lead to the dam bursting. Everything he had been holding back for weeks now would come crashing down on his head.

That was the last thing he needed in the middle of a fight.

And to be honest, it had been days since he'd had the chance to rest. It was one fight after another. There was no rest for the wicked; as such, there was no rest for him either.

But then, in a flash, his vision turned white, a searing light burning his eyes. Just as he slammed them shut in a pitiful attempt to drive away the agony, a new pain blossomed in his lungs. It felt as though the air had suddenly become thinner, leaving him with less oxygen to breathe. Before he knew it, the weight of the civilians bearing down on him vanished entirely, replaced by the familiar feeling of wind rushing past him. He could feel gravity tugging him down, but he had no explanation for how that could have happened.

Perhaps one of the civilians had a teleportation quirk and used that to assist him. He couldn't be sure, but he internally promised to thank them when he was done fighting.

Midoriya could feel the wind pushing against him with increasing force, so he readied himself to land. He tried to peel his eyes open, but he was only able to open them into a squint. It wasn't that it was too bright outside—although for some reason, it was much lighter outside and it had suddenly stopped raining—it was that danger sense was repeatedly sending stabbing pains through his skull.

He had grown used to the sensation consistently making itself known, but he hadn't felt it like this ever. It was almost as if it was telling him that he was surrounded by enemies on all sides, all with killing intent and the capability to cause him harm.

It was agony.

But he had to land somehow, so he forced himself to keep his eyes open just a sliver, if only to see how far he was from the ground beneath him. As he righted himself mid-air and braced for impact, he hoped that the blobs of color that were most likely people had the sense to stay out of his way. He couldn't be sure whether his landing (and the crater that it would likely create) would affect the closest of them, but it wasn't as if he could do much about it in the mere seconds before he crashed into the ground at full force.

Midoriya grimaced, trying and failing to stifle a groan as he settled his hands just above his bent knees. His legs wobbled for a moment as the shock from landing shot sharp pains through his ankles and knees until it made its way up into his hips. A strange relief washed over him as he struggled to stand; his mouth guard hid his facial expressions so, at the very least, no one would bear witness to his weakness as he took a moment to overcome the strain that his landing put on his tired limbs.

As soon as he rose to his feet, Danger Sense intensified. Each stab of pain felt left echoes that rattled in his skull, lingering even as he did his best to ignore it. He could see why the Fourth User had chosen to live in a secluded area if he had to deal with this when surrounded by danger.

The affliction from Danger Sense was incredibly distracting but he knew that he couldn't let it keep him from taking stock of his surroundings. It hadn't escaped his notice that everything had gone still and silent after his landing. Given how loud it had been just moments prior, despite the wind rushing in his ears, Midoriya was already wary of what circumstances he would find himself in. Reluctantly, he raised his head, only to be met with thousands of people in various states of injury and exhaustion. He wasn't sure how he'd found himself in the middle of a bloody battlefield—surrounded on all sides as Danger Sense continued to send pain shooting through his brain—but there was no denying that he wasn't in the plaza with All Might's statue anymore.

Midoriya let his chest expand, ignoring the ache of unhealed injuries in favor of taking a deep, calming breath. He did his best to focus on the crowds of people, scattered about yet frozen in place. All of them seemed to be watching him.

The reaction made sense, given that he was a stranger that crash landed in the middle of what looked to be a warzone. However, Midoriya hesitated to think he had a grasp on what about him had captivated them. He scanned the area in front of him, a softer throbbing settling around his eyes as he squinted to make out details despite his blurry vision. He took a moment to glance behind himself as well, taking in the posture and positions of groups as they stood still as if frozen mid-battle.

He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but it was clear that the group behind him was on the defensive while the group in front of him, all in some kind of uniform, was the aggressor. Midoriya glanced at the angry man in front of him and then at the two heavily injured men (teens?) behind him.

It was as if a switch in his mind had been flipped; he immediately knew what he had to do. The angry man that had been standing in front of him seemed to regain his bearings, no longer stuck in place by the surprise of Midoriya's arrival. As soon as he began to advance, Danger Sense rattled off another series of warnings. The man's movement seemed to shatter the faux tranquility on the battlefield, reinstigating the fights all around them.

Midoriya frowned, feeling the dull weight behind his eyes lessen as he squinted nervously. This man was clearly a big threat. He couldn't be sure if it was power or killing intent that set Danger Sense off, but with the way that the others in uniforms did their best to get out of his way despite being on the same side (or so he assumed based on their outfits), Midoriya figured the distinction didn't matter.

He shifted his feet a bit wider apart, bracing himself and lowering his center of gravity in preparation to strike. The older of the two black-haired teens behind him yelled at him to be careful. Midoriya simply flexed his hand before preparing his fist to strike.

Once the man was only a few paces away from him, he surged forward with an arm stretched back. Midoriya couldn't help but scoff at how he telegraphed his intention to punch. It clearly wasn't a feint with the way he twisted his body and braced his legs to launch himself forward. And even as the man rushed him, he was nowhere near fast enough for his obvious coordination to be irrelevant.

He was surprised when the man's arm turned into magma, but he still wasn't too worried. The teen simply met the man's punch with his own, letting about thirty-five percent of One for All build up in his arm as he braced his legs with about eight percent.

He couldn't help his wince when the air pressure from his punch sent the magma splattering behind the man. Despite his instinctive reaction to punch back, Midoriya was very worried as to whether his counterattack had permanently ripped the man's arm off. Not to mention, he was concerned about the people in uniforms that hadn't gotten out of the way fast enough to escape the backlash. But he was definitely too tired to be concerned with the small drops of magma that had burned tiny holes into his gloves and burnt red spots into his knuckles. The teen simply shook out his hand, hoping that the pain would simply fade into the background like the rest of his injuries.

Luckily for Midoriya's conscience, the magma man quickly reformed his missing limb. Unfortunately, blowing his limb off appeared to only piss the man off even more.

Just his luck.

Midoriya heard a slight commotion behind him, but forced himself to ignore it in favor of paying attention to the menacing threat right in front of him.

What had he gotten himself into?