No one knew why they had been summoned.

And yet—when Mama calls, there’s no saying no. Every one of the Charlotte children rushed to Cacao Island, unsure of what awaited them. The throne room—decorated like a wedding hall—felt unnerving. Too many candles. Too many flowers. Way too much sweetness.

Then she appeared—Big Mom, in her full, sugar-apocalyptic glory, smiling wider than ever before.

*“MAMAMAMAA~! Well, my dear children! Time for something special! I’ve organized a little... engagement party!"

Shock. Silence. One fork hit the floor.

“Engagement party?!” yelled Perospero, literally spitting out a chunk of lollipop. — “But... who... with whom... when?!”

“With someone very special.” Linlin grinned, her eyes sparkling. “They’ll be arriving shortly. And they’ll choose one of you to marry. That’ll seal our next grand alliance.”

“THEY'LL CHOOSE?!” shouted Smoothie, staring at her siblings in disbelief. — “You didn’t even warn us about a guest—let alone marriage?!”

Katakuri slowly leaned back from the table. As quiet as always, yet clearly tense this time. — “This isn’t just some stunt. If Mama’s doing this behind closed doors, she’s hiding something. Someone powerful is coming.”

Cracker looked around with a nervous smile. — “Maybe it’s a test…? I mean, there’s no name cards or wedding cake—yet.”

“Oh, the cake’s already cooling in the kitchen!” said Oven, dragging his finger through a burning goblet. — “It’s real. I can feel it in the heat.”

And yet, no one knew who was about to enter. And that—somehow—was the most terrifying part.

Pudding mumbled quietly: — “Please not another mysterious person with a giant reputation...”

Brûlée rolled her eyes: — “Let’s hope it’s not another clown pirate at least…”

“Maybe…” said Compote, glancing at the doors. — “But Mama said their name is whispered across the New World. So, definitely not a nobody.”

Flampe squealed: — “What if they’re handsome? Or sweet? Or wear a cape?!”

“Or maybe they’re just power-hungry, not romantic...” muttered Daifuku, lazily summoning his genie. — “We have no idea what they’re after.”

Mont-d’Or frantically flipped through a thick family record book: — “Nothing. No mention. No plan. Which means... Mama did this all on her own. Again.”

“Maybe she saw it in a vision?” suggested Amande, calm but clearly unsettled. — “Mama sometimes knows things before the world does.”

And yet—despite all the chaos—something was in the air. A pressure. A presence. Someone was approaching. Someone not ordinary. The siblings stared at the door with a mix of fear, curiosity, and mild disgust.

“Wait... are we all eligible?” whispered one of the younger sons. “All of you.” confirmed Big Mom. — “Whoever they choose will become the symbol of a new era. So... do your best.”

“Do our best?!” Cracker gasped — “What are we supposed to do? Introduce ourselves? ‘Hi, I’m the 10th son, I like biscuits’?”

“Maybe that’s not the worst idea...” said Smoothie, adjusting her hair. — “We don’t know what they’re looking for. Strength. Beauty. Loyalty. Maybe all of it.”

Big Mom clapped her hands, and the homies threw open the great hall doors.

“THEY’RE COMING!”

The table itself shouted. All eyes turned to the entrance. And even before they saw you, they felt your steps. Heavy. Confident. Someone with a lineage so strong, even the eldest sons swallowed nervously.

And yet… Mama looked more satisfied than ever.