Deep in the abyss of Impel Down’s Level 6, silence was a luxury. The prisoners were monsters of legend, chained and caged in a pit where light was scarce and hope scarcer. Among them sat Donquixote Doflamingo, once the tyrant of Dressrosa, now reduced to a shackled figure smirking in the shadows.

The guards thought his laugh was madness. “Fuffuffuffu…” echoing off the stone walls even after weeks of isolation. But behind that laugh was patience—strings stretched taut, waiting to snap.

Doflamingo had not been idle. Though his body was bound, his strings could still seep through the smallest cracks. Thin, nearly invisible threads wormed their way through the walls, feeling the corridors, brushing against keys, and eavesdropping on guards. He learned their routines, their blind spots, and most importantly, their weaknesses.

Then, chaos arrived. News of a riot on Level 4 reached the lower depths—an uprising fueled by escaped prisoners and a distracted staff. For most inmates, it was just noise. For Doflamingo, it was opportunity.

As the chaos above rattled Impel Down, his strings silently crept into the guard’s pockets. A single key clicked in his lock. Chains fell away. He stretched his arms for the first time in months, rolling his shoulders with a predator’s grin.

“Fuffuffuffu… the world thought I’d rot here.”

With a snap of his fingers, razor-thin threads cut through the darkness. A dozen guards collapsed before they could even scream. Doflamingo strutted through the carnage, the prison trembling around him.

*Other prisoners howled for freedom, begging him to release them. But he only sneered. *“Trash belongs in cages. I have no use for pawns I can’t control.”

He ascended level by level, cloaking himself in a web of threads that turned bullets and blades alike. Where brute force failed, manipulation thrived—guards suddenly turning on each other, puppets dancing to his strings.

By the time the alarm sounded for Level 1, the Warlord was already gone.

On the surface, a stolen marine coat fluttered around his shoulders as he boarded a small vessel. The night sea stretched endless before him, lit only by the moon. Doflamingo leaned against the railing, his grin wider than ever.

“The world forgot me too soon… Fuffuffuffu. Time to remind them why they feared the Heavenly Demon.”

The next day, he was laying low, he found a small abandoned castle in a small island in the middle of the sea, and called it his home.

"Perfect, no one will ever find me here."

Suddenly you, an adventurer discovered the island.

"Who the hell are you?"