Marine 321st Branch – Marine Hospital
The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as the middle-aged doctor carefully examined Darren's body, eyes narrowing behind his thin-rimmed glasses.
Scars crisscrossed the Marine's skin like a battlefield map—some faint, some still pink and new. They itched, but the pain had long since faded.
"Hmm… the wounds are healing well. No real complications." The doctor clicked his tongue and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Your body, honestly... it's monstrous."
He'd treated Darren for years and had long grown accustomed to his inhuman recovery rate. Still, the sheer resilience was always shocking.
"Appreciate it, Doctor Wells," Darren said with a wry smile. "I guess I've just gotten used to being injured. Habit's a scary kind of strength, isn't it?"
Doctor Wells gave a tired chuckle and began packing away his tools. "If I told you to stop throwing yourself into fights, that'd be stupid, wouldn't it?"
Darren shrugged. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but… some things aren't really my choice. Trouble just keeps showing up."
He buttoned up his shirt.
"And besides… for a Marine, getting hurt is as routine as eating or sleeping."
"Is that so?" Wells murmured, shaking his head. He knew better than to argue with someone like Darren.
Still, he paused before adding, "Try to avoid anything too intense for the next few weeks—by which I mean life-or-death fights or one of your 'near-suicidal training sessions.'"
"I'll try," Darren said, grinning.
As the doctor washed his hands at the sink, he asked casually, "I heard you're heading to Marineford?"
"Yeah. Time for training. I've spent enough years here in the North Blue."
Darren slung his coat over one shoulder, paused, and gave a slight bow toward the doctor's back.
"Thanks for taking care of me all these years."
The running water seemed to quiet for a second. Doctor Wells didn't turn.
"Go on, kid," he finally said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "All those wounds, all those close calls I dragged you back from... wasn't it all for this moment?"
"Now go show those Grand Line bastards what a real man from the North Blue looks like."
Darren let out a laugh as he tossed on his Marine cloak and headed out the door.
"That's the plan!"
---
Morning, after the rain.
The sky was brilliant, streaked with golden beams breaking through scattered clouds. Shafts of sunlight filtered down like heavenly spears, painting the sea with glimmering trails of light.
"Any idea how long until the ship from HQ arrives?"
Darren stood at the edge of the dock, his Justice cloak fluttering in the salty breeze. He stretched with a satisfied groan, soaking in the fresh air.
"Shouldn't be much longer," said Momonga, glancing at the horizon.
He turned to Darren. "Doctor Wells cleared you?"
Darren chuckled. "He did. Told me to avoid 'intense movement.'"
Momonga raised an eyebrow. "Reasonable advice."
Of course, Darren wasn't exactly the type to avoid trouble.
Momonga said nothing, but his eyes lingered on the endless ocean—its shimmering surface dancing beneath the rising sun. There was a hunger in his gaze, a quiet yearning.
"I'll speak with command," Darren said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Next time, you're going with me."
Momonga exhaled, slow and steady. "The North Blue needs someone reliable."
Darren's face turned serious.
"Momonga... I know the North matters. But your growth matters more."
"Rank, fame, wealth—those things don't mean anything in the end. Out here, strength is everything."
"A lot of people never understand that. But I know you're not one of them."
Warmth flickered behind Momonga's calm expression. He clenched his fist and nodded.
Darren smiled again. "I wonder who HQ's sending this time?"
Traditionally, before training camps began, Marineford would dispatch a high-ranking officer to escort new cadets from the Blues to ensure safe arrival.
Momonga smirked. "Hoping for Rear Admiral Sakazuki, are you?"
Darren cracked his neck. "He always kicked my ass. Even back when we were both in the North Blue."
"And now that he's graduated... yeah, I definitely still can't beat him."
A cold voice cut in from behind them.
"So you're stupid enough to want another beating?"
Gion strode up, looking as sharp as ever, her heels tapping against the dock. Behind her trailed Tokikake—half-awake and yawning like a lazy cat.
Darren laughed. "Hey, getting beat up is a skill too. Besides, lying in bed for days? I'm starting to rust."
Gion opened her mouth, but Momonga interrupted.
"They're here."
All eyes turned to the horizon.
A massive Marine battleship crested the gold-lit sea, slicing through the water like a floating fortress.
Then—
WHOOOSH!
The wind roared to life. Waves crashed violently against the harbor. Flags whipped like gunshots, and the entire dock shuddered beneath the force of a sudden, inexplicable storm.
"What the hell's going on?!"
"Is this a storm front?!"
"Why is the weather changing so fast?!"
The Marines on patrol stumbled as the gale hit, barely staying on their feet.
Darren narrowed his eyes.
A gloved hand pierced through the greenish stormfront, reaching straight for his face.
But Darren was already moving.
He was smiling.
He sidestepped the strike, energy flaring through his body as he snapped forward, elbow thrusting like a bolt of thunder.
WHOOSH!
The arm vanished midair.
Behind!
Darren twisted his hips, dropped low, and punched backward without looking.
BANG!
Fists collided. A deep, concussive blast rang out, sending shockwaves rippling behind them. Their cloaks flared out like wings in the storm.
"I heard a monster in the North Blue was strong enough to rival Sakazuki," came a booming voice.
"That he killed Byrnndi World, the living legend."
"Now I see—it's not just a rumor."
The storm peeled back like curtains as the man revealed himself.
Long, black hair whipped in the wind. He had no eyebrows. His face was sharp, stormy—commanding.
He stepped forward, lowering his fists with a smile.
"First time meeting, Commodore Darren. Forgive my directness."
He offered a salute, formal but filled with vitality.
"Your reputation made it impossible not to test you."
"I'm the one assigned to escort this year's cadets from the North Blue."
"Rear Admiral, Marine Headquarters… Monkey D. Dragon."
---
To be continued...