After Whitebeard's departure, the bustling, carefree atmosphere aboard the Moby Dick had shifted. The crew, accustomed to the steady hand of their beloved captain, now found themselves grappling with the sudden appointment of a leader they mainly knew by reputation.
Still, the Whitebeard Pirates were nothing if not adaptable.
Standing before the assembled captains, Lucas wasted no time laying down his priorities. "Listen up. Starting today, you need to focus on strengthening your Haki, refining your Devil Fruit powers, and preparing yourselves and your crews for battle. A war is coming."
His words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
"Water Buffalo" Atmos, the ever-optimistic captain of the 13th Division, draped an arm over Lucas's shoulder. "War? Relax, Lucas. First, we should celebrate your promotion with a banquet. It's tradition!"
The captains chimed in, their playful banter lightening the mood.
"Yeah! Dad will be mad if we don't throw a proper party without him!"
"Gurarara, let's drink to his absence!"
Laughter rippled through the group, their camaraderie evident despite their cheeky remarks.
Lucas, however, remained stoic, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "This isn't a time for banquets. I'm not joking. The war is real, and Dad's life is on the line this time."
The laughter died instantly.
Marco stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What are you talking about, Lucas? War? Dad's life? Explain."
Lucas nodded, his voice grave. "The Marines have captured Ace. They're planning to execute him at Marineford publicly. This isn't just an execution; it's a trap—a declaration of war against us."
Gasps and curses erupted from the captains.
"Ace was captured?!"
"Marine bastards! How dare they?!"
"They're targeting us, using Ace as bait!"
Lucas raised his hand, silencing them. "The execution will take place in the heart of Marineford. It's a battlefield designed to crush us. Sengoku and his forces are preparing for an all-out confrontation with the Whitebeard Pirates. This is a battle we can't avoid."
Marco clenched his fists, his expression dark. "A fight on Marine turf… They want to bury us there."
The other captains exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier levity replaced with determination.
The usually reserved Izou, captain of the 16th Division, spoke up. "Lucas, is that why Dad left? To prepare for this war?"
Lucas nodded. "Yes, but I can't disclose the details. I can tell you this: when Dad returns, the war will be upon us. If you want to survive and protect our family, use this time to push your limits. Train your crews. Hone your skills. And most importantly—be ready to face hell."
The captains fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. One by one, they nodded, dispersing to relay Lucas's orders to their divisions.
As the deck cleared, Lucas exhaled, retreating to the cabin Whitebeard had designated as his quarters. Inside, the makeshift studio awaited—a stack of blank papers and ink ready for his next masterpiece.
"Six months," he muttered, picking up his pen. "Six months to break through to Admiral level… I have to make every panel count."
His focus was razor-sharp as he began sketching. Every stroke of the pen felt like a step toward destiny, and each line was imbued with the resolve to protect the crew that had become his family.
However, as he settled into his rhythm, a heavy knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Lucas called, annoyed at the interruption.
The door creaked open to reveal "Diamond" Jozu, the hulking captain of the 3rd Division. His diamond-covered arms sparkled faintly in the light as he stepped inside, his expression unreadable.
"Lucas," Jozu began, his deep voice steady but tinged with curiosity. "I've got questions about this 'war' you're so sure about. Mind if I sit?"
Lucas set his pen down, sighing. "Make it quick, Jozu. Time isn't on our side."
Jozu chuckled lightly, pulling up a chair that creaked under his weight. "You're an interesting guy, you know? Dad trusts you enough to leave you in charge, but most of us don't know a thing about you. Yet, here you are, talking about war like you've seen the future. So tell me—why should we believe you?"
Lucas met Jozu's piercing gaze without hesitation. "Because I have no reason to lie. Everything I've said has been to prepare us for what's coming. You can doubt me all you want, but if you ignore my warning, you'll regret it."
Jozu leaned back, folding his massive arms. "Fair enough. But if you're so confident, prove it. Help me figure out a way to make my Diamond Fruit even tougher. I want to be indestructible if we're going into a war."
Lucas smirked. "That's more like it. Fine, I'll help. But in return, you'd better work harder than anyone else on this ship."
Jozu grinned, standing up and extending a hand. "Deal."
Lucas couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope as they shook on it. If the captains took him seriously, maybe—just maybe—they'd stand a chance in the coming storm.