Fallen Flag: Heaven Kneels, I Rise One Piece

A Lone Flame Beneath the Stars

The stars were glittering high above the dense tropical forest, bathing the foliage in pale blue light. Night had fallen over the island, but Allen D. Walker's body moved as if it were midday. He stood shirtless, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. Steam rose from his shoulders like mist off a volcano, glistening with the sweat of hours upon hours of ceaseless training.

With every swing of his wooden training sword, the ground beneath him cracked just a little more. He wasn't holding back—not anymore. This wasn't training to survive. This was training to transcend.

Nearby, the ever-vigilant Verys, the guardian who had once served Hades himself, stood with arms crossed, observing. His hawk-like eyes followed every movement with a silent intensity. He no longer gave Allen instructions—not because he had nothing to teach, but because Allen was evolving in ways that no textbook, no mentor, no ancient scroll could guide.

Rika, now equally intense and covered in sweat, mirrored his movements in tandem. Though she lacked the raw destructive power Allen possessed, her grace and control were breathtaking. Like water to his fire.

Boros, sprawled across a tree branch with a vine of bananas lazily hanging in his hand, let out a yawn loud enough to scare a flock of tropical birds.

"Oi! Flame-breath, you're gonna punch through the planet if you keep slamming the ground like that," Boros snickered. "Trying to piss off the planet gods now?"

Allen ignored him. His arms trembled, but he didn't stop.

Rika glanced over. "He's not training for strength anymore... he's training to hold it back."

Veyr nodded slightly. "He's preparing to control what should not be controlled."

And then suddenly, without warning, the training ground exploded in a pillar of white and black flame. Rika was blown back, Boros fell out of the tree with a loud thud, and Veris simply narrowed his eyes.

Allen stood at the center, untouched, eyes glowing faint gold.

The Aether within him... was evolving.

---

Whispers Among the Elite

High atop the Red Line, within the Holy Land of Mariejois, a meeting room carved from crystal echoed with cold silence. Around the divine table sat cloaked figures, each a silhouette of power and malice.

"The boy... Allen D. Walker," one of them hissed, ancient parchment in hand. "The child of him."

"The Flame has returned," said another, voice venomous. "His presence disrupts the order of things."

A third, more composed voice interrupted, this one colder. "And if he continues to grow unchecked... he will eclipse even the Sun God Nika."

There was a long silence. Then the highest among them—hidden in deeper shadow than all the others—spoke slowly.

"And who do you suggest we send to observe?"

"Send no Holy Knights," the composed one warned. "They'll die."

A silver-haired figure stood up at last. His voice calm. "Let me speak to my son."

Gasps echoed through the room. For the first time in centuries, the voice of one of the original Holy Knights spoke.

"Even Imu once feared the D. Walker bloodline. If that boy truly is his heir… then Heaven itself may burn."

---

Garp Hits the Sea

Back on Marine HQ, Vice Admiral Garp was shoving an entire tray of donuts into his mouth while Sengoku read reports with increasingly furrowed brows.

"He beat Dregg with one hit," Sengoku muttered. "He's not even a pirate yet—just a brat with no bounty and a surname that scares half the Cipher Pol."

Garp laughed. "Sounds like my kinda brat."

"Garp... I want you to bring him in."

Garp paused. Then grinned.

"You mean bribe him with food, knock him out, and drag him back like usual?"

"No!" Sengoku snapped. "You invite him. With respect!"

Garp shrugged, cracking his knuckles. "If he gives me a good fight, I'll consider it respect."

---

Serena D. Walker stood at the edge of her garden, eyes narrowed as her youngest daughter ran up holding a newspaper.

"Mama! Mama! Look! It's Allen

Serena gently took the paper, scanning the article. Her lips curved into a soft, knowing smile.

"That boy's making waves already... my little flame."

Hades D. Walker, lounging on the porch and drinking black coffee, chuckled darkly.

"He's being subtle for once. Only one island blown up."

Their daughter blinked. "Papa, that's not subtle!"

"Compared to me? It's modest," Hades replied with a grin.

---

The Calm Before The Storm

Allen stood on a cliff overlooking the sea, sweat still dripping from his hair, Aether still humming beneath his skin. The stars above didn't judge him. They simply watched.

Rika sat beside him, hugging her knees.

"You think the world's watching now?"

Allen didn't reply at first. Then—

"They always were. Now they just remember why."

Behind them, Veyr lit a small campfire. Boros rolled over and muttered, "You better not go all philosophical again. Last time I got a migraine."

Allen smirked. Then his eyes locked with the horizon.

"The world wants a monster... I'll give them a legend."

END OF CHAPTER 23