World stood at the center of the ship's main deck, his massive frame heaving with exhaustion that could no longer be hidden behind bravado. His coat, once a symbol of terror across the Grand Line, now hung in tatters from his shoulders. Blood seeped from dozens of wounds where Kizaru's light-speed attacks had found their mark, each cut precise enough to debilitate without killing.
The years of imprisonment in Impel Down had taken their toll, and even his fearsome reputation couldn't mask the reality that age and confinement had dulled the edge that once made him the most wanted man alive.
But World had not earned his infamy through surrender. His eyes, still blazing with the fury, fixed upon the massive cannon that dominated the warship's forward section. The weapon was a marvel of destructive engineering, a cannon capable of obliterating entire islands with a single shot, its barrel easily large enough.
To him it represented the pinnacle of naval firepower, reserved only for the most dire circumstances.
"You think this is over?" World snarled, his voice carrying across the deck despite the weakness that threatened to buckle his knees. "I am Byrnndi World! I have toppled kingdoms and sent admirals fleeing in terror! I will not be caged again!"
His feet pounded against the deck as he sprinted toward the massive weapon, each step leaving cracks in the reinforced planking. The More More ability still coursed through his veins, and he channeled every last reserve of power into his movement. Speed, strength, size, all amplified a hundredfold as he became a living projectile of desperate fury.
The cannon's massive shell, normally requiring a full crew to load, seemed to shrink in World's amplified grip. He hefted the projectile with ease that defied physics, his devil fruit power making the impossible routine. The shell itself was no ordinary ammunition—packed with enough explosive force to level a small island, it represented enough potential to sink the Groseade and everyone aboard her.
"Island Destroyer: Apocalypse Cannon!" World's roar echoed across the seas as he activated his devil fruit power to its absolute limits. The shell in his hands began to glow with energy as its destructive capacity multiplied exponentially. What had been a weapon capable of destroying an island became something that could potentially crack the very ocean floor itself.
Kizaru's expression didn't change even as World loaded the amplified shell into the cannon's massive breach. If anything, the Admiral seemed slightly amused by the display of desperate power, as if watching an interesting but ultimately harmless gamble.
"Oh my," Kizaru drawled with detached interest. "How frightening. I suppose I should do something about that."
The words were barely out of his mouth before he moved. Light itself seemed to bend around Kizaru as he transformed into his elemental form, becoming a being of pure photons.
One moment he stood casually observing from across the deck, and the next he materialized directly beside the massive cannon.
"Yasaka no Magatama."
The technique was executed with the same indifference that Kizaru brought to all his actions, but its effects were anything but casual. Countless points of light erupted from his fists. The barrage struck the cannon, not seeking to destroy it outright but to disable it in the most efficient manner possible.
Metal screamed as the laser bombardment found every weak point in the weapon's construction. Cooling systems ruptured, firing mechanisms melted, and the massive barrel itself began to warp under the concentrated heat. Within seconds, the island destroyer cannon, had been reduced to an expensive piece of scrap metal.
World's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched his final gambit dissolve before his eyes. The amplified shell, no longer contained within the cannon's firing chamber, began to destabilize as his concentration wavered. The massive projectile tumbled from his nerveless fingers, its destructive potential dissipating like smoke in the wind.
"Impossible," he whispered, the word barely audible above the sound of cooling metal. "That cannon could level mountains..."
"Could being the operative term," Kizaru replied with infuriating calm. His form had already shifted back to solid matter, hands once again tucked casually into his pockets as if he hadn't just effortlessly neutralized a weapon of mass destruction. "Really now, did you think the Marines would send me after you without any concern?"
But Kizaru wasn't finished. His right hand emerged from his pocket, fingers moving in patterns that left trails of golden light in their wake. The photons didn't dissipate as they normally would but instead began to form geometric shapes in the air around World, triangular panels of crystallized light that hummed.
"Yata no Kagami: Prison of Illumination."
The light panels multiplied and connected, forming an intricate cage of pure luminescence around World's massive frame. Each surface reflected and refracted light in impossible ways, creating a kaleidoscope effect that disoriented the senses while simultaneously serving as an impenetrable barrier. World pressed against the walls of his prison, his enhanced strength meaning nothing against constructs made of light itself.
"What is this?" World demanded, his voice taking on the first notes of genuine panic. "Light can't hold me!"
"Oh, but it can," Kizaru replied with maddening composure. "You see, these aren't just made of light, they're made of my light. And my light obeys my will absolutely."
To demonstrate his point, Kizaru gestured slightly, and the prison began to contract. World found himself pressed against the luminous walls.
"More More Amplification: Hundred-Fold!" World roared, channeling every last reserve of power into a desperate attempt to break free. His muscles swelled to inhuman proportions as his devil fruit multiplied his physical capabilities beyond all reasonable limits. The deck beneath the light prison cracked and buckled under the pressure of his amplified might.
But the prison held firm. If anything, it seemed to grow stronger in response to World's struggles, the light panels pulsing with increasing intensity as they absorbed and redirected his efforts.
Kizaru raised his right hand, fingers extended toward his trapped opponent. Light began to coalesce around his fingertips, not the scattered beams of his previous attacks but something far more focused and dangerous. The air itself seemed to thicken with as photons compressed into a single point of annihilation.
"You know," the Admiral mused conversationally, as if discussing the weather rather than preparing a killing blow, "I've always found it curious how criminals like you never seem to learn. You escape from prison, cause trouble, get recaptured, and then act surprised when it happens again."
The light in his palm grew brighter, becoming difficult to look at directly. World pressed himself against the far wall of his prison, his earlier bravado replaced by the cold realization that death was approaching at the speed of light.
"Any last words, old man?" Kizaru asked with polite interest. "I find that defeated pirates often have something profound to say at moments like this."
World's response was a mixture of rage and defiance that would have made lesser men tremble. But his words were lost as Kizaru's final attack erupted forth, a concentrated beam of light that contained all the destructive potential of a small star compressed into a space no larger than a man's fist.
The beam struck World center mass, and for a moment the entire ship was bathed in light brighter than the sun itself. When the radiance finally faded, World's massive form lay crumpled at the bottom of his light prison, unconscious and finally, truly defeated.
The battle was over.
Across the Groseade, the sounds of combat began to fade as the remaining World Pirates found themselves overwhelmed by superior numbers and technology. The Pacifistas, those mechanical marvels of Dr. Vegapunk's genius, moved as they corralled the surviving crew members.
On the lower deck, Vice Admiral Strawberry supervised the restraint of Sebastian, the massive Wotan still unconscious from their brutal confrontation. Seastone chains, specially forged to contain even the strongest devil fruit users, were wrapped around the fish-man's limbs with professional precision. Despite his wounds, Strawberry maintained his characteristic composure as he personally oversaw the security measures.
"Careful with those restraints," he instructed the Marines under his command. "This one has the strength of giants. We can't afford any mistakes."
In the ship's hold, Sentomaru stood over the defeated forms of Gairam and Nightin, his massive axe resting across his shoulders with casual authority. The cube-user had surrendered without further resistance once the futility of his situation became apparent, while the former "Goddess of Kanpo Kenpo" lay unconscious from the combination of Pacifista firepower and chemical exhaustion.
"Two more for the collection," Sentomaru reported into his transponder snail, his voice carrying the satisfaction of a job well done. "The prisoners are secure and ready for transport to headquarters."
The Pacifistas themselves showed no signs of fatigue despite the intensity of the battles they had fought. Their mechanical forms stood at perfect attention, targeting systems still active as they scanned for any remaining threats.
These weapons of the World Government had proven their worth once again, demonstrating that the age of pirates was entering a new phase where individual strength alone was no longer sufficient to challenge the established order.
Kizaru dismissed his light prison with a casual gesture, allowing World's unconscious form to collapse fully onto the deck. Marine officers rushed forward with Seastone restraints specially designed for prisoners of World's caliber, shackles that would not only suppress his devil fruit abilities but also drain his strength to the point where escape would be impossible.
"Time's up, old man," Kizaru remarked as he watched the chains being secured around World's wrists and ankles. His tone remained as detached and conversational as ever, as if commenting on the end of a mildly interesting theater performance rather than the conclusion of a battle that had threatened the foundations of justice.
"Minimal casualties, Admiral," reported the ship's chief medical officer as he approached Kizaru with a tablet containing the full assessment. "Some minor injuries from debris and one case of chemical exposure from the woman's toxins, but nothing that won't heal with proper treatment."
Kizaru nodded with the sort of absent interest he brought to most administrative matters. "And the ship?"
"Superficial damage mostly. The cannon will need to be replaced, and we'll need to patch some holes in the outer hull, but she's seaworthy. We can make it back to headquarters without any problems."
"Excellent." Kizaru pulled out his own transponder snail, the small creature immediately perking up as it prepared to transmit his words across the vast distances of the Grand Line. The connection was established within moments, and the familiar voice of Fleet Admiral Sengoku crackled through the device.
"Kizaru, report," came the authoritative command from Marine Headquarters.
"Mission accomplished, Fleet Admiral," Kizaru replied with characteristic brevity. "Byrnndi World has been recaptured along with his surviving crew members. The threat has been neutralized with minimal collateral damage."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Any casualties on our side?"
"None worth mentioning. The Pacifistas performed admirably, and Vice Admiral Strawberry distinguished himself in single combat against one of their heavy hitters."
"And World himself?"
Kizaru glanced down at the unconscious form of his defeated opponent, noting the steady rise and fall of the man's chest that indicated he would live to face justice. "Alive but thoroughly subdued. I'd recommend immediate transport to Impel Down Level 6, but with its current state..."
"I'd suggest we consider the freezing protocol once again?"
Another pause, this one longer as Sengoku considered the implications. The freezing protocol was reserved for only the most dangerous prisoners that were captured, those whose escape would pose an existential threat to the World Government itself.
It involved placing the prisoner in a state of suspended animation, effectively removing them from the world without the political complications that would arise from execution.
"I'll think about it," came Sengoku's eventual response. "We have to take into consideration how the freezing procedure helped maintain World's strength when he was unconscious."
"Understood, Fleet Admiral. We'll be back at headquarters."
"Good work, Kizaru."
The connection ended, leaving Kizaru alone with his thoughts as he watched the sun begin to set over the endless expanse of ocean. The Grand Line stretched out in all directions, vast and full of dangers that would require constant vigilance to contain. Pirates would continue to emerge, devil fruit users would challenge the established order, and the Marines would be there to meet them with overwhelming force.
But for now, at least, one chapter in the ongoing struggle between order and chaos had come to a close. Byrnndi World, the man who had once declared war on the entire world, would trouble the seas no more.
As the Groseade turned toward Marineford, her engines pushing her through waves, Admiral Kizaru remained on deck. His hands were once again tucked casually into his pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever. To anyone observing him, he might have appeared bored or disinterested, but those who knew him well would recognize the quiet satisfaction that came from a job well done.