The island chosen for the "Grand Union" was a neutral speck of land in the New World, transformed overnight by the combined, if reluctant, efforts of the Whitebeard and Big Mom pirate crews. It was a spectacle of forced festivity. One side of the island was a chaotic, boisterous sprawl of makeshift taverns and roasting pits, echoing with the sea shanties of the Whitebeard Pirates and their various allied crews – hardened, scarred men and women who eyed the other side of the island with suspicion.
That other side was a whimsical, unnerving wonderland of towering wedding cakes, rivers of chocolate, and candy-striped pavilions, all pulsating with an almost aggressive cheerfulness. Homies, animated objects with unsettlingly wide smiles, flitted about, serving bizarrely sweet concoctions to the equally bizarre array of Big Mom's children and the various underworld figures she had deigned to invite. It was less a wedding venue and more a surreal, sugar-coated battlefield where two opposing ideologies clashed in a silent, frosting-covered war.
At the center, on a slightly elevated platform built to withstand the weight of at least two Yonko, stood a massive, flower-and-candy-bedecked wedding arch. This was where the unlikely union of Gunnar Newgate and Charlotte Smoothie was to take place.
Gunnar, dressed in surprisingly well-fitting, formal attire (a combined effort of a flustered Izo and a grumbling Thatch who'd found some surprisingly fine silks), felt impossibly small and out of place. He stood near the arch, Marco and Jozu flanking him like grim-faced, diamond-hard bodyguards.
Then, a new commotion arose near the makeshift "Whitebeard" docks. A Marine battleship, stark and imposing, had dropped anchor. And striding down its gangplank, munching on a senbei cracker with infuriating nonchalance, was Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp.
"GARP!" several Whitebeard pirates roared, hands instinctively going to their weapons. "What's that old lunatic doing here?!"
Marine soldiers, looking distinctly uncomfortable, fanned out behind him. Garp, however, just waved a dismissive hand. "Bwahahaha! Relax, ya scallywags! I'm not here to pick a fight today! Got an invitation, see?" He brandished a frilly, candy-edged invitation card that looked utterly ridiculous in his massive, calloused hand.
Marco stepped forward, his expression wary. "An invitation? From who, Garp-san?"
"From your little groom, of course!" Garp boomed, grinning. He then spotted Gunnar. "Oi, Whitebeard's-Brat! Didn't think I'd miss your big day, did ya? Sengoku grumbled about it, said it was 'highly irregular,' but even he agreed someone from the Marines ought to be here to… observe this… unprecedented mess! Bwahahaha!"
Gunnar, surprised, managed a small smile. He had, in a moment of childish impulse and he liked Garp from manga and thought he would like to join so he just sent it on a whim, with also a strange sort of respect for the man who had clashed with his father so many times yet always seemed to possess a bizarre kind of integrity. He hadn't actually expected him to come. "Garp-ojiisan," he said, using a surprisingly familiar term. "I'm glad you could make it. You are my guest."
Garp ambled over, clapping Gunnar on the shoulder with a force that nearly sent the boy sprawling. "Good lad! Got guts, I'll give ya that! Marrying into that crazy family! Bwahahaha! You'll need 'em!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "So, this Smoothie gal, she as scary as they say? Heard she can squeeze the juice outta anything!"
Before Gunnar could answer, a deep rumble announced Whitebeard's arrival. The Emperor, looking frail but resolute, his IV drip discreetly managed by a nervous nurse, made his way to the platform. "Garp," he acknowledged, his voice a low growl. "Still causing trouble wherever you go, I see."
"Bwahahaha! Someone's gotta keep you pirates honest, Newgate!" Garp retorted, though there was a flicker of something akin to respect in his eyes. "Though 'honest' and 'wedding to Big Mom's daughter' don't usually go in the same sentence."
Just then, the ground trembled slightly, and a wave of cloying sweetness announced the arrival of the other matriarch. Big Mom, Charlotte Linlin, made her grand entrance, carried on her personal cloud, Zeus, with Prometheus, the sun homie, blazing beside her. Her many children fanned out behind her, a formidable, colorful, and deeply unsettling entourage.
"MAMAMAMAMA!" Big Mom's laugh boomed across the island. "Newgate! Garp! What a delightful little gathering! Like a reunion of old fossils!" Her eyes, sharp and predatory, swept over the assembly, lingering on Gunnar, then on Whitebeard.
"Linlin," Whitebeard rumbled, his gaze steady. "You made it. I trust the journey wasn't too… bumpy."
"The only bumps will be the ones I put in your head if you try any tricks, old whale!" Big Mom retorted, though there was a grudging sort of festivity in her tone. This was, after all, a power play she felt she was winning.
Garp, ever the agent of chaos, grinned. "Well, well, Linlin! Lookin'… round as ever! Bwahahaha! So, you two finally decided to tie the knot, eh? Figuratively speakin', o' course. Though with you two, one never knows!"
"Watch your tongue, Marine cur!" Big Mom snapped, though a ghost of a smile played on her lips. Garp was one of the few individuals who could insult her so brazenly and live, perhaps due to their long, violent history. "This is a momentous occasion! The joining of two great families! A new era of… cooperation!"
Whitebeard snorted. "Cooperation, Linlin? Or just a more… elaborate way to try and stab each other in the back?"
"Details, details, Newgate!" Big Mom waved a dismissive hand, her eyes gleaming. "The point is, your blood son marries my powerful daughter. A new generation, born of our strength, will rise! And they will know who their true allegiance belongs to!" Her gaze fixed on Gunnar, a possessive glint within it.
"We shall see about that, Linlin," Whitebeard countered, his hand resting protectively on Gunnar's shoulder. "The boy has a will of his own. And a rather… persuasive family already on his side."
Garp watched the exchange with immense amusement, munching loudly on another cracker. "Bwahahaha! This is better than any play! Two old sea monsters growling at each other over a little guppy! And the whole world watching! Priceless!"
The tension between the two Yonko was palpable, a silent war waged with veiled threats and loaded pleasantries. The underworld figures watched with keen interest, sensing the shifts in power. The pirates on both sides remained on edge, ready for the forced smiles to shatter and the real festivities – the violent kind – to begin.
Gunnar stood between them, a small, fragile figure at the heart of this titanic power struggle. He looked from his ailing father to the rapacious Big Mom, to the amused, chaotic Garp. This was his wedding day. And it felt more like the prelude to a war than the beginning of a peaceful union.
***
Suddenly, a new, distinct presence rippled through the assembled crowd. It wasn't aggressive, not overtly, but it was undeniably powerful, carrying a familiar, almost laid-back authority that nonetheless commanded attention. Heads turned towards the makeshift docks on the "neutral" side of the island, where a sleek, crimson-hulled ship had silently, almost unnoticed amidst the other vessels, dropped anchor.
The Red Force.
And strolling onto the island as if he owned the place, a scar on his eyes , followed by his core crew – Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux (already eyeing a towering croquembouche with avaricious intent), and Yasopp – was none other than "Red-Haired" Shanks.
A collective gasp went through the assembly. Another Yonko? Here? Uninvited?
"Shanks!" Garp boomed, his grin widening even further. "Bwahahaha! Now the party's really starting! Didn't peg you for a wedding crasher, Red-Hair!"
Big Mom's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, her saccharine facade cracking. "**Akagami…** What is the meaning of this intrusion?! This is a private celebration!"
Whitebeard, though surprised, had a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. Of course, Shanks wouldn't miss such a monumental, chaotic event.
Shanks walked calmly towards the platform, his crew fanning out behind him, not aggressively, but with a quiet confidence that was just as intimidating. He stopped a respectful distance away, his gaze sweeping over the scene – Gunnar, Whitebeard, Big Mom, Garp, the tense commanders, the uneasy crowd.
"Yo," Shanks said, his voice casual, yet carrying an undeniable weight. "Heard there was a wedding. And knowing the guest list," his gaze flickered pointedly between Whitebeard and Big Mom, "I figured it might be… lively. Wouldn't want to miss the fireworks." He then focused on Gunnar, a genuine, warm smile gracing his lips. "Congratulations, kid. Though, I gotta say, you've got some guts, marrying into this particular circus."
Gunnar, remembering Shanks', offered a small, grateful nod.
"This is a private affair between the Whitebeard Pirates and the Charlotte Family, Akagami!" Perospero interjected, trying to regain some control, though his voice lacked its usual confidence when facing another Emperor. "You were not on the guest list!"
Lucky Roux chuckled around a stolen cream puff. "We make our own guest lists, candy-man!"
Benn Beckman, rifle slung over his shoulder, simply lit a cigarette, his gaze cool and appraising.
"Now, now, Linlin, Perospero," Shanks said, his smile turning a fraction sharper. "No need to be inhospitable. I just came to offer my… felicitations. And perhaps ensure things remain… relatively civil." His gaze lingered on Big Mom. "Wouldn't want any… misunderstandings to spoil such a joyous occasion, would we? Especially with so many… impressionable young pirates around." The unspoken threat was clear: don't start anything you can't finish.
Whitebeard let out a rumbling chuckle. "Gurarara! Always one for a dramatic entrance, Shanks. Pull up a barrel, why don't you? Though I doubt Linlin has any sake strong enough for your palate."
"You wound me, Newgate!" Big Mom huffed, though a flicker of grudging respect, or perhaps just wary calculation, entered her eyes. Having three Yonko and Garp in one place was a recipe for unprecedented chaos, even for her. She knew Shanks wasn't here just for the canapés. He was a balancing factor, a wild card. "If you're here to cause trouble, Akagami, even I might find my appetite spoiled!"
"Trouble, Linlin? Me?" Shanks feigned innocence, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm a man of peace. Mostly." He then looked at Whitebeard, a more serious note entering his voice. "Though I must say, Newgate, this is quite the… bold move. An alliance with Mama? Didn't see that one coming."
"The seas are ever-changing, Shanks," Whitebeard replied, his gaze steady. "Sometimes, even old sea dogs have to learn new tricks."