A lava-coated fist, an ice-shard slash. Each of Ragnar's moves was economical, brutally efficient, designed to end the fight so he could go back to his daughter. Whitebeard, weary but resolute, met him blow for blow, the sorrow of battling a visage of his lost son etched onto his face with every quake-infused strike.
They broke apart for a moment, panting, the ground around them a ruined landscape of steaming craters and shattered ice.
"Seriously, old man," Ragnar said, rubbing his neck. "Just give up already. This is getting tedious."
Suddenly, amidst the cacophony of war, a flash of iridescent color caught his eye. A creature, impossibly out of place in this hellish landscape, landed with delicate grace upon his broad, ice-and-lava-encrusted shoulder.
It was a peacock.
Its plumage was a vibrant tapestry of sapphire, emerald, and gold, and its long train fanned out slightly, each "eye" seeming to hold a familiar gaze. It cocked its head, regarding Ragnar with an intelligent, almost unnervingly calm gaze.
Ragnar froze mid-stance, his warrior focus momentarily shattered by sheer, utter bewilderment. A peacock? Here? Now?
"What fresh hell is this?" he muttered, staring at the bird perched so calmly on his shoulder. "Did one of those Okama from the prison follow me?"
Whitebeard, seeing the peacock and Ragnar's stunned reaction, paused his attack. A flicker of deep, profound sorrow crossed his face. His voice, when he spoke, was softer, laced with a poignant ache.
"Kirin…" Whitebeard rumbled, his gaze fixed on the magnificent bird. "So, he still remembers you, even if you don't remember him." He looked at Ragnar, his eyes filled with a father's pain. "That is Kirin, boy. My gift to you… to Gunnar… after you finally woke. He was your shadow then, just as he seems to be now."
Ragnar stared at Whitebeard, then at the peacock—Kirin—on his shoulder. Woke? Gift? The words were an irritating buzz, phantom memories brushing against the walls of his consciousness. The peacock let out a soft, mournful cry, nuzzling its head against Ragnar's cheek. For a split second, an alien feeling, an urge to reach up, to stroke its feathers, shot through him. He scowled. "Get off. You're messing up my concentration."
Then, the peacock's calm demeanor shattered.
Its iridescent eyes suddenly blazed with an electric blue light. Its body began to shimmer and grow, feathers ruffling and elongating. The delicate peacock erupted into a creature of myth—a Thunderbird of immense size, its wingspan easily rivaling that of a small ship, its plumage now a crackling, storm-grey shot through with veins of lightning.
With a shriek that was pure, concentrated static, the Thunderbird launched itself from Ragnar's shoulder, circled once high above, and then dove with terrifying speed. Its massive, razor-sharp talons, crackling with electrical energy, closed around Ragnar's torso, lifting him effortlessly from the ground.
"WHAT THE—?!" Ragnar yelled, utterly blindsided, his elemental powers failing him, as a thousand volt ran through his body. He was airborne, clutched in the grasp of a mythical bird he didn't even know he owned.
The Thunderbird ascended rapidly, carrying him high above the battlefield. Then, it screeched again, a sound that resonated with the heavens. The sky above Marineford began to darken, not with clouds, but with an oppressive, unnatural blackness.
"It's… it's calling a storm!" a Marine cried out, his instruments going haywire.
The Thunderbird, with Ragnar still helplessly in its grip, tilted its head back. A colossal, blindingly white bolt of pure, concentrated lightning descended from the sky. It didn't strike the ground.
It struck Ragnar.
KRA-KOOOOOOOOOOM!
The sound was deafening, eclipsing even the roar of Akainu's magma. A pillar of white fire engulfed Ragnar and the Thunderbird. He screamed, an agonized, inhuman sound, as millions of volts coursed through him. His ice shattered, his lava armor boiled away, his very being overloaded by the raw, untamed power.
The Thunderbird, its purpose achieved, released its grip.
Ragnar's body, smoking and limp, plummeted from the sky like a stone. He fell, end over end, crashing down onto the already ravaged ice field with a sickening, final THUD.
The Thunderbird let out one last, sorrowful cry that echoed across the stunned battlefield, then dissolved into a shower of fading lightning sparks, vanishing as quickly and mysteriously as it had appeared.
For a moment, all fighting in the immediate vicinity ceased. Whitebeard stared at the spot where Ragnar had fallen, his face a mask of profound, unutterable grief. Akainu, momentarily forgotten, watched with a cold, calculating curiosity. Even Luffy, in his relentless charge, paused, looking up at the spot where the spiky-haired guy had been struck down by a giant, lightning bird.
The war had just delivered another shocking, inexplicable, and tragic turn.
Admiral Kizaru, re-emerging from the barracks Jozu had blasted him into, dusted off his immaculate yellow-striped suit with a lazy sigh. "Ooooh, my… That Jozu-kun packs quite a punch. And now… what was that dazzling light show?" His attention was immediately drawn to the fading sparks where the Thunderbird had vanished.
Before he could fully assess the situation, a screech, like tearing silk combined with a thunderclap, echoed above him. The Thunderbird, Kirin, hadn't entirely disappeared. Now, its storm-grey plumage crackling with residual lightning, its eyes like miniature electrical storms, it dove directly at Kizaru.
"My, my, another feisty pet," Kizaru drawled, his usual nonchalance tinged with a hint of genuine surprise. He raised a hand, light coalescing. "But I'm afraid I'm not really a bird person."
"Yasakani Sacred Jewels!" He unleashed a torrent of light beams.
Kirin shrieked in defiance, fanning its massive wings to form a shield of crackling, concentrated lightning.
KRA-KZZZZZZT! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Kizaru's light beams, which could pierce steel, slammed into the lightning shield. Some were deflected, others seemed to be absorbed and amplified by the raw electrical energy. Kirin was pushed back by the force, but its shield held.
"Impressive," Kizaru admitted, his smile fading slightly. "That's no ordinary parrot."
Kirin retaliated, opening its beak to unleash a focused blast of pure, white-hot lightning directly at Kizaru. The attack was faster, more concentrated than the sky-bolt that had felled Ragnar. Kizaru, for the first time, looked genuinely hurried. He transformed fully into light, attempting to dissipate and avoid the incoming torrent.
ZZZZZZZZZAAAAAPPP!
The lightning bolt struck where Kizaru had been, leaving a deep, smoking trench in the ice. Kizaru reformed a short distance away, a wisp of smoke rising from his normally pristine glove.
"Ooooh dear," he said, flexing his fingers. "That one actually tingled. Such… shocking power."
The Thunderbird shrieked again, preparing for another dive, though its electrical aura was visibly dimmer now. After a few more rapid, desperate exchanges, where Kirin managed to land a few glancing blows that made Kizaru hiss and recoil, the Thunderbird seemed to realize it couldn't sustain a direct confrontation. Its energy was waning fast.
With one last defiant screech, it disengaged. It circled once, its stormy eyes scanning the battlefield, then, with a surprising gentleness, it descended towards the towering figure of Whitebeard.
The Emperor, who had been watching the brief, furious aerial duel with a mixture of sorrow and awe, held out a massive, scarred arm. Kirin, shrinking slightly, its lightning dimming until it resembled the magnificent peacock once more, landed delicately on Whitebeard's offered forearm. It nuzzled its head against Whitebeard's cheek, letting out a soft, mournful coo.
Whitebeard gently stroked its vibrant plumage. "You did well, Kirin," he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "You always were a loyal friend." The presence of the bird, a living link to his lost son, seemed to both deepen his sorrow and steel his resolve.
While this strange interlude played out, Luffy was still relentlessly pushing forward. The chaos had given him a precious few seconds. He was now deep within the plaza, the execution platform tantalizingly close.
"ACE! I'M ALMOST THERE!" he yelled, his voice hoarse.
The Whitebeard Pirates around him, witnessing his insane, unwavering charge, redoubled their efforts.
"Protect Straw Hat!" a commander roared, intercepting a group of Marines. "He's our best shot now!"
Pirates formed a loose, moving perimeter around Luffy, taking hits meant for him, sacrificing themselves to clear his path. A Vice-Admiral with a massive iron mace swung at Luffy. Before it could connect, a Whitebeard pirate with a fish-man karate background intercepted, his Haki-infused fist shattering the mace, though the force sent him sprawling. "Go, Straw Hat-kun!"
Luffy didn't have time for elaborate thanks. A determined "Shishishi! Thanks!" was all he could manage as he ducked under another attack and kept running, his gaze never leaving Ace.
The final, desperate stretch to the scaffold was near.