Prologue/Chapter 1: The Sunflower Field

When I died, I was sure that was it. Sure, I'd been more than a bit disappointed that my life had been cut short rather abruptly– by a stupid mistake, if you can believe it– but I accepted it. It was how it was. Everyone dies eventually; I just happened to cross the border a little sooner than expected.

Mind you, I've never been the religious type. So when I opened my eyes to find myself in a vibrantly yellow sunflower field and a clear blue sky above me, you could say that I was a little surprised.

It definitely felt real. There was rich, brown dirt under my toes and a warm breeze tickled my face as it whispered by. The sunflowers whistled softly, ruffled by that same breeze, and it all smelled of light and warmth. Ironically enough, I felt more alive here than I ever did while I was alive, when I was entrapped by the chaotic concrete jungle that we humans call a city.

I'd been there a few hours, I think, but I couldn't really be sure since the sun hadn't moved an inch from its spot high in the center of the sky. I was just thinking to myself that I honestly wouldn't have minded spending eternity in this place (except maybe with a library) when there was the sudden crackling of static from all around— the type that you hear when you're at school and the loudspeakers come on to make an announcement.

I jumped as a high-pitched voice with an English accent seemingly spoke from behind me. "Hello~!"

"What–?!" Whipping around, I saw nothing but the sunflowers.

"Oh, silly, don't worry about trying to find me. Because you won't. So just listen~!"

"But–!" I start. I didn't know about this guy, but my mom taught me not to listen to random sketchy-sounding, disembodied voices in sunflower fields. Then I remembered I was supposed to be dead. I figured that arguing could probably wait a moment.

"Aha, good choice, Mr. Wren!" laughed the voice, somehow knowing my name, "Now, listen here; you died, no?"

I paused. Was that a trick question? "Uh… I think so? I mean… I'm pretty sure I did, if you mean the time I, uh— well, y'know."

There was an applause, like the one you hear on comedy T.V. shows. "Yes, yes, I do know! And correct! You did die, and I dare say rather admirably, no?"

I grimaced, "I was just stupid. It wasn't really that–"

The voice interrupted me again, sounding annoyed. I had a feeling if whoever it was had a body, their hands would be on their hips. "Mr. Wren, you tackled the suicide bomber who was going to kill at least half your school and managed to keep him from fully arming the bomb until the police arrived. You saved lives. The only reason you died was because–"

"Because I made a stupid mistake while playing the hero, yeah, I know," I muttered, looking down. There was a sudden gust of wind that made the sunflowers roll like the waves of a golden ocean, and in the horizon I swear I could see black clouds approaching at an alarming pace. I shivered.

"No. It was because you believed it was safe until the accomplice who helped the bomber get into the school stabbed you in the back. Or," it added with a snort, "Rather, the neck."

"Listen, I knew them both!" I snapped, "I knew the stuff they got up to— I should've realized that if they did something like what they did, they would do it together! But I thought he was the only one, didn't watch my own back, and I got stabbed for it. So yes, a stupid mistake."

"Aw, shut up already, will you?" said the voice, "You didn't realize, their good old mates didn't realize, no one realized! Don't beat yourself up over it." There was a short pause, then: "If you think it was so stupid, why not try again?" asked the voice as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

I frowned as the wind picked up more than before. Bits of dirt were beginning to be picked up, and petals were plucked from the sunflowers. "What do you mean, try again? I'm dead, if you haven't realized. Also, is this storm normal?"

"Of course not," said the voice, "You're a cheeky one, aren't you? That'll certainly be fun… And about that… You do know there's such things as second chances, don't you?"

"Not at life! And what the hell do you mean, 'that'll be fun'?!" The gale was getting progressively stronger and faster, and the storm clouds, which had moments before been on the horizon, were nearly overhead.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough. And second chances don't usually happen, you're right, but… ah… let's just say you won the lottery of life this time around. Otherworldly beings have to have some sort of entertainment, you know, it gets dreadfully bland otherwise. So… Pure luck, Mr. Wren. What good fortune!"

"But–!" My words were torn away by the wind, and my went wide as I watched sunflowers be ripped from their roots and whirl into the now dark grey sky.

"Oh, and another thing." Despite the chaos, I could hear the voice clearly. "It wouldn't be… fun… if we just let people back into life just like that, you get me?" The voice seemed to stifle a snicker, "No, we like to… ah… mess with them a bit."

What the hell did that mean? And what was we?

"For example, you, well, we can't just send you back to the world you were living in, you get me? That would end in quite some confusion and it always turns out happy in the end. Boring, am I right? Chaos, for a time, is much more entertaining. Also, it wouldn't be exactly the easiest thing to, ah, start over, per say, at the age you are now. It's not easiest to blend in."

"What the hell!" my protest was dragged away by the wind. There was no sound other than that and the voice by now, but I could feel and see it; the ground around me was beginning to crumble away, falling into an unseen abyss somewhere far, far down below. I had no idea what to do other than keep listening to the voice.

"I think an age re-adjustment of, say, nine years will suffice?" the voice wondered to itself as if creating a grocery list, "Oh, and I have no doubt that you'll recognize the world you're about to be thrown into– that is, if you are to retain your memories." There was a dramatic sigh, "Unfortunately, the Fall can have a catastrophic impact on the mind. You'll probably forget most of everything, though I have no doubt you'll get a particularly annoying— but most likely useful— recurring sense of déjà vu. Your memory will recover, but with some effort, I'm afraid. How you do it, I haven't the slightest idea, but that's the fun!" I could almost hear the smirk the voice's next words. "Don't worry, I'll take the liberty of sewing your name on your clothing or something so you don't forget that, at least."

I was left speechless. But you know, what could I have said? I sure as hell had no clue— at least, not until the crumbling ground began deteriorating faster and I could feel myself begin to drop with it. Then came the ever-intelligent "AHHHHHH!" response. The voice laughed once more. I would probably hear that thing in my nightmares for the rest of my unnatural life.

"Have fun, Mr. Wren, and don't die too soon!"

The last thing I knew, as I spiralled down and down into oblivion, was a blinding brightness, wind whistling in my ears, and finally, darkness.

Chapter 1: Beware the Fist

Location: Sabaody Archipelago

A hefty older man with greying hair and a large, curved scar around his left eye sat behind a large desk, muttering under his breath as he sorted through a monstrous– and entirely unorganized– pile of papers.

"Stupid paperwork... Should be out going after pirates, but noooo... I'm stuck here in the office..."

He reached out and snatched a rice cracker from the box teetering dangerously at the corner of his desk, and the cracker made a satisfying 'crunch' as he took an angry chomp.

"No, he says, you've got to do more paperwork..." He glared half-heartedly out the window, where he could see the all-too-familiar tree-sap bubbles floating up from the ground. "You're stationed in Sabaody for a while, he says..."

The man continued muttering under his breath as he finally finished organizing the stack and began the tedious task of signing official documents and handwriting orders. It was at times like these when the man could see at least one- but only one!- solid argument in favor of his grandson's aspiration.

Damned paperwork.

He nearly jumped from his skin when the den-den mushi rang.

"Purupurupurupuru. Purupurupurupuru."

The man grunted as he reached for the receiver, hoping silently that it wasn't a call from that dang Sengoku that more paperwork was being sent his way.

"Yes, hello, this is Garp." Garp answered, sniffing loudly and crunching on another rice cracker.

There was a long sigh from the other end. "Garp." There was a pause, and Garp could feel the judgement seeping from it, but he elected to ignore it. "How many times have I told you that when you answer the phone you need to do it according to protocol? Do it again. Correctly."

"Ka-cha." The den-den mushi went back to sleep as the other side hung up. Moments later, it was ringing again, and he picked up the receiver.

Garp scratched his chin. "Really, Sengoku?"

There was silence.

"Bah, fine." He cleared his throat. "This is Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp. I enjoy eating rice crackers and punching idiots. I also like hunting pirates."

"Garp."

"I customized it."

"Garp."

"Sengoku."

"Goddamn it, Garp. Never mind that for now."

Garp grinned to himself and grabbed another rice cracker, munching on it victoriously.

Sengoku continued. "I called you for a different reason. As you already know, Sabaody has always been crawling with pirates, but there's been an increase these past twelve years ever since that damned Roger set off the 'pirate age.' It's only been getting worse, so nowadays the marines have their hands full. Especially the ones there- except you."

That's right; he was supposed to be banned from fieldwork for the next week because he had 'broken too many walls and needed to 're-evaluate' his life choices.' Garp crossed his arms. "So, what, you want me to take out some pirate?"

"No, not exactly. Well, perhaps. We're not quite sure yet what it is, since the crater is still billowing up dust and the other marines haven't been able to reach it."

"What?"

"I only know this because I was contacted directly– heaven knows why." Sengoku frowned. "But from the reports, something landed in the Sabaody Amusement Park around an hour ago right beneath the Ferris wheel. The operator didn't sound too happy about it."

"So you want me to check it out."

"You're the only one I know of that's available."

Garp shrugged, grinning. "Alright. It seems interesting enough. Though it's probably some poor bastard that got beaten and chucked that way."

Sengoku hummed in agreement."Probably. Although you never know out there; it's the final island before the New World, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'll be careful." He waved a hand dismissively.

"Good luck. Report back once it's over. My curiosity is getting the better of me, I'm afraid."

"Doesn't it always?" Garp snickered.

"For the better or for the worse…"

The vice-admiral rolled his eyes. He didn't need Sengoku getting all mystical and shit when he finally had something interesting to do, so he just hung up. He then rose from his seat, cracking his knuckles. "Heh. Let's go see what this thing really is."

The walk to the amusement park was interesting in itself. Pirates, of course, had gotten word that 'Garp the Fist' was walking around as soon as he stepped foot outside, and didn't hesitate to scatter and hide like the cowards they were, or, as Garp liked to put it, either had balls of seastone (since steel was much too soft in this matter) or were complete numbskulls that wished for death. Meaning, they had boldly (or idiotically) stood in his way, challenging Garp to a fight, either hoping to raise their bounty and therefore infamy by defeating them, or were just hoping to test their skills.

It began happening less so after they spotted the ever-growing mass of chained pirates within the cage his trainee was dragging along behind him. (Good training).

After a pit stop by the local jail, Garp finally reached the amusement park, where there was a large crowd and a certain very sweaty Ferris Wheel operator, who was wringing his hands and trying his best to quell the rambunctious gathering of people. At the sight of Garp approaching, the man threw up his hands and hurried over.

"Garp the Fist, sir! It's an honor, it's an honor!"

Garp grinned. "Ah, thanks. So, what happened?"

The man paled. "Oh, it was crazy, sir, crazy, even for this place! I was just running the wheel as usual when suddenly there's this light–" he made an odd exploding motion with his arms,"Brighter than the Sun, you know, and then there's this 'BOOM!'" The man screamed, (Garp had to disguise a cringe as a cough), "And then there's a crater next to the wheel and it's raining dirt and sunflowers! Sunflowers!"

Garp hummed to himself. "Sunflowers? That's weird."

"You know it, sir!"

"Okay, move aside, I'll take care of this," He held out his hand to his trainee– a good young fellow of twenty-two who went by the name Dart. The blond-haired man gave a curt nod and handed him his megaphone. Damn he had that brat trained well.

"Good," Garp said simply before turning back to the crowd, clearing his throat, "LADIES AND MEN, STEP ASIDE; I REALIZE A SMOKING CRATER IS SERIOUSLY COOL BUT ALL OF YOU BASTARDS NEED TO MOVE."

It worked like a charm (for the most part) and in a few moments the area was cleared, leaving the smoking crater in clear view. The operator had been right about the dirt and the sunflowers; the oddly rich-looking earth was everywhere, and there were countless sunflowers- probably hundreds- strewn about, some trampled by the crowd. The hole itself wasn't the largest Garp had seen. It looked only about fifteen to seventeen feet in diameter.

"Hmm." Garp cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and after that, his toes. Because why not? And if anything, it seemed to impress– if not terrify– the younger marine and the operator, who had stayed behind. "Alright, time to see this punk," he smirked to himself, making his way into the crater.

The dust and the dirt in the air was still fairly thick, and Garp struggled to see even two feet in front of him, but thankfully had his haki to compensate. Ever since he'd arrived to the park and the people cleared out, he could sense that whoever had the misfortune to land here was still alive– but that was about as much as he could tell.

Garp liked to think of himself as "middle aged," but the truth was, well, he was old. Not old enough to keel over and die, of course, but old enough to have had experienced enough that he knew a bit about this and that. When this sort of thing happened, when he didn't know shit, it made him feel like a rookie again. He didn't like that.

To put it simply, Garp was baffled. Usually, with a regular person, when he observed their 'voice' he would at least be able to tell their sex, general age and at times, such as in battle, a general idea of what they were about to do a split second before they did it. But for this person…

Everyone had their own tone of 'voice.' Their own sound; some were quiet, some loud, some harsh, some soft. They were auras screaming 'I AM ME!'

He had never really thought about it before until now, but even with those distinctions between them, those 'voices' were pretty damn similar. There were those, of course, that stood apart from the rest for inexplicable reasons, but those were really still similar enough to be able to blend with other's 'voices' in a large group of people, rendering anyone but the most skilled observation users- or the ones who knew them best- be able to pick them out.

He was pretty sure that someone barely beginning in haki would be able to find this person in a goddamn hurricane of people.

It was odd; in all the decades that Garp had sailed the seas, he had never encountered someone with an accent to their 'voice,' such as one one could obtain in their speaking one by simply having grown up differently or in a different country. In fact, it was so heavily accented that it was damn near impossible to decipher- meaning Garp couldn't even get a reading of this person's basic information.

That was when Garp, so lost in his speculations, (surprisingly), stepped on said person.

"Ah, my bad," he said, bringing his foot back up from the person's face– a kid, by the look of it. Garp frowned and peered more closely, eyes narrowing when he noticed that the boy seemed to be just a year or two older than Luffy, who had just turned seven a few months previously. The boy had creamy blond hair and was wearing an aviator's jacket, (Garp snorted at that– it was suitable for someone who had apparently been flying through the sky), shorts, and… a red name-tag stuck to his chest?

'Hello! My name is: ELIAS WREN,' read the sticker in bold lettering. Garp's eyebrows rose. The situation was getting more intriguing by the moment.

"Vice Admiral Garp, sir!" called Dart from outside the crater. "Are you alright?"

Garp snorted. "You're one hundred years too young to be asking me that question!" He shouted back, nonetheless grabbing the kid and slinging him over his shoulder. It wouldn't do good to worry his charge more than he had to. Plus, he had an odd, nagging, feeling it was best to get the kid- Wren, apparently- away as quickly as possible, and Garp wasn't one to ignore his gut, whether it was about danger or rice crackers. Or doughnuts. Possibly both.

When he emerged, Dart and the operator's eyes bugged as they caught sight of the child. "A KID?!"

"Bwahahahaha! Don't be so surprised. You should have already seen weirder, being here." Actually, Garp himself hadn't, but he was counting on his status that they wouldn't ask. Plus, they- or at least the operator, (what was his name again? Whatever, it didn't matter.)- didn't know there was more to it than it seemed. Last island before the New World or no, it was still Paradise.

The operator's head dropped. "Unfortunately, sir."

"Sure, sir…" said Dart, scratching the back of his head.

Garp nodded as he walked by them, Dart immediately falling into step a little ways behind as they headed back to the base. They moved in moderate silence for a few minutes until Dart spoke up and voiced the question Garp had practically felt eating at the trainee since their arrival at the crater.

"Sir… That boy's 'voice'…" He trailed off.

Garp shot the kid a glance. "It's weird, I know. I think referring to it as an 'accent' would be the best way to go right now."

"But–"

"You've never seen something like it before? Neither have I, bwahahahaha!"

Dart made a strangled noise. "What do you mea–"

"Oh, but don't tell anyone I said that, okay?" Garp interrupted, "Sengoku will most likely want to keep this a secret."

Dart paled, probably due to the fact that Garp had said something like that so easily, and that he now knew something that the Fleet Admiral wouldn't want getting out. Unheard by Dart, Garp snickered to himself.

Minutes later, they arrived back at the base, and Garp made no stops until he reached his office again. He then lugged the boy off his shoulder and pushed him at Dart, who took him off his hands with an apprehensive look. He then wasted no time in reaching for the den den mushi, knowing that by now Sengoku was probably getting fairly antsy.

As expected, the other side picked up halfway into the first ring. Sengoku's voice filtered through, sounding irritated. "Took you long enough. Report?"

Garp began picking his nose, much to Dart's disgust. "You're too damn curious. And it wasn't my fault a bunch of idiots decided to try and challenge me."

"Not my problem. And I can tell you're picking your nose. Stop it. Report?"

Shoving his finger deeper, as he had a reputation to keep up (and he still had yet to reach that really annoying booger he could feel), Garp frowned- though to anyone else, it may have looked like a pout. "You know they attack me every time I go out. It wasn't my fault."

The den den mushi's eye twitched. "Fine! It wasn't your fault. Report?!"

"Uh-huh. It was a kid."

"And?"

"His name's Elias Wren, apparently."

"What, he's conscious?"

"No, his name tag said."

"Damn it Garp, just tell it all to me!"

Garp shrugged and finally managed to pull the annoying booger out of his nose. He flicked it away, and the slimy, green nugget managed to land right on Dart's face, who began to scream silently, caught between trying not to interrupt an important conversation and having a mucus blob from a vice admiral land on his bare skin. Garp gave him a blank look for a second before responding to Sengoku.

"His 'voice' is really weird…" Garp explained the details, leaving the other marine silent on the other end. After Sengoku still hadn't responded in a few moments, he prompted, "Well? What do you think?"

"I think…" Sengoku said carefully, "You need to find a place for that boy to stay. Away from Sabaody, away from the Grand Line; somewhere where it's hardly likely he will encounter anyone that can use color of observation."

"Is it that serious?"

"Deadly."

"Enlighten me, then."

There was a long silence, and finally a sigh at the other end. "I've heard only stories, of course, rumors— but they're from long ago, so long that they're only just ancient legends. It's nothing we can worry about, now, though— it's best to get a move on, Garp; you never know who could end up on that island. And you know how much I hate it when kids get hurt."

Garp shot the boy in Dart's arms a look, then frowned. "I guess it is that serious. Fine. We're going to talk when I get back, though, Sengoku. I need more than that. I'll be risking a lot."

"I know."

"I have a place where I can take him, but I'm gonna need at least a month's leave, and that'll be cutting it close," Garp continued, "I know I just got back a few months ago, but…"

"Just do it, Garp. I'll take the fall; don't worry about anything else for now."

"Understood," he replied, and he hung up, the den den mushi going back to sleep.

Exhaling heavily, he stood up and cracked his back, wondering at his luck. The son of Gol D. Roger, the son of Dragon the Revolutionary, and now an odd kid with a voice that could get him killed, if Sengoku's extreme caution was anything to go by. Who would have known?

Well, if there was one thing for certain, Garp thought to himself, grinning, it was that Dadan was going to have her hands quite full from now on.

EDIT: This was edited August of 2017. A little has been changed, mainly grammar and some wording. Thank you for reading!

A/N: Hello, readers! Thank you for making it this far, I honestly truly appreciate it. So- new story! I have quite a bit in mind for this one. Though I haven't absolutely made a decision on which way this story will go, one thing is for certain: it will not be a re-write of what happens in canon! Although those type of stories can be enjoyable, it's really not my style and I'd rather not go through the entire regular story again (even though it's kick-ass). Though there will be some things that happened in canon that absolutely must happen, (such as the recruitment of straw hats), this story will take its own twists and turns. I will keep everyone as in character as possible.

Also- I love to hear from you guys! If you ever have any ideas, feel free to PM me and share! (I'd rather not have anyone say any ideas in the reviews as to keep things a surprise). And if you don't have any ideas, feel free to leave a review! Please tell if you spotted any grammatical errors (as I currently don't have a beta) or just want to comment on something, like what you think so far or what you think may happen next!

Anyway, thank you very much, and I'll post the next chapter ASAP!