Luffy was no longer a man. He was a titan of obsidian rubber, his skin a sheen of armament Haki. His torso was a barrel of coiled muscle, his arms laced with intricate, tribal patterns of pure, hardened will. His hair flamed up, wreathed in the same steam as his body. He was half again as tall as Doflamingo, but his legs were lean, his feet tapping the ground with a rhythmic, terrifying thump-thump-thump .
" "
Luffy’s crew, his friends—their cries were distant echoes. He’s not getting up. He used too much Haki. King Riku’s voice was a grim prophecy.
" "
The air on Dressrosa had become a suffocating blanket of pressure. Not from the heat of the sun, but from the sheer, oppressive will of a monster. Doflamingo, suspended in the sky by his spiderweb of strings, laughed a hollow, rattling laugh.
A shockwave rippled outwards, shattering the remaining windows of the palace. The steam became a vortex. When it cleared, the ground was scorched in a perfect circle.
He raised one finger, pointing down into the abyss.