To anyone reading or following this story, I apologize for the very slow updates. I am, unfortunately, a grown person with social obligations and long work hours. That's French for "I'm busy". Don't believe me? Fine. *Pouts and glares through screen.*

I profess! I do not own One Piece. That pleasure belongs soley to Oda-sensei.

Chapter 2

Darkness. That was all Marco's mind could register at the moment.

'Finally', he thought.

Finally everything would be over for him. No more pain or suffering. No more wallowing in despair over his pitiful existence.

As he continued to sink further and further into the depths, his life began to flash before his eyes. His childhood passed in the blink of an eye. Then his enslavement by the World Nobles. His following rescue from that nightmare by his soon-to-be family. His Oyaji. Marco was the first. Then came the rest. Namur, a fishman with a chip on his shoulder, rejected by human society. Izou, an okama with attitude and a fashion sense. Thatch, a prankster with a knack for cooking and a heart of gold. They were the first of many more to join. Then came Ace. A young man plagued by his father's legacy, a legacy that would eventually kill him one day. A day that unfortunately came too soon, and that took the life of not only the young man, whom Marco had quickly fallen for, but also his Oyaji. His heart had broken that day, but he had been forced to move on, for the sake of the others. Then came his, and many others', alliance with the Strawhats. The subsequent defeat of the World Goverment that had been the scourge of many's existence. The years of restoration and change that followed, led by Dragon and the Revolutionaries. Then came the unthinkable; an act of absolute devastation, caused by an outraged noble bent on revenge.

The complete destruction of that world. His own death, and his rebirth into a new world full of hate. The purges. "Cleansings", they had called them. The pointless killings, until only humans were left. With no one left to kill, humans began to turn against each other over previously inconceivable differences. The disgusting inbreeding that followed, validating the concept of 'race' amongst humans. Overall, thousands of years' worth of history lost in a blind devotion to fanaticism. The years began to blur by. The rediscovery of basic inventions created in the previous world. The rise and fall of countless empires, whose predecessors all thought would last forever. All the Monarchical societies recently falling out of fashion in favor of more inclusive and equal government. All the wars, massacres, and injustices enacted throughout human history. All the lives lost, as if they never amounted to anything.

Marco was tired. He just wanted it to end. A part of him knew he should at least try to attempt to guide humanity on the right path, being the only one even remotely capable of such a feat. But he'd already tried that countless times, and at this point he just didn't care anymore.

The world could burn for all the shits he gave.

As the world around him began to fade, he noticed his lungs were starting to burn, so he decided he'd speed things up a little.

He didn't have all day, ya know.

Just as he was about to breathe in the seawater that would kill him instantly, the sensation of arms pulling at him assaulted his senses. He couldn't even struggle or resist against the hold he was now caught in; as a devil fruit user, he was an anchor in water, and would be completely unable to even so much as move a pinkie finger. So he could do nothing as he was dragged helplessly to the surface, where a bright light clouded his vision momentarily.

'Stupid sun', Marco thought bitterly.

His lungs burned from the lack of air he'd felt previously, and he had a massive headache for that same reason, so he found himself unable to protest as he was quickly brought to shore.

"Hey, you alright?" He heard a concerned voice ask, panting slightly too from the sound of it.

'I was doing just fine, thank you very much!' Marco snarled internally, pissed at having been interrupted. He was waiting to catch his breath now, so he could beat this idiot senseless.

'That'll teach him to learn to mind his own business', Marco sneered to himself.

Just before Marco could get the chance to jump his would-be "savior", the other man turned to face him, so that Marco could see him more clearly.

Any thoughts of "reprimanding" his savior suddenly shriveled up and died as quickly as they came. Marco's breath hitched and caught in throat as all he could do now was gape openly at the young man whose face he had recognized instantly. It was a face he would always remember, even if 20,000 years were to pass.

He found himself staring at the face of none other than Portugas D. Ace.

So, to answer some of the readers' questions, YES, this is a largely Marco-centered story, mixed in with some alternating viewpoints.

Marco IS a phoenix zoan, meaning, unless he is physically killed before he dies of old age, he can can be reborn over and over again. Being a phoenix that can regenerate himself also makes it almost impossible for him to be killed, and healing others with his Devil Fruit Awakening ages him, so he always dies of old age and is thus reborn again. Also, the only way it is possible for him to die both quickly and permanently is to drown himself, as he is a devil fruit user and has all of the devil fruit weaknesses. In addition, the way his reincarnation is different from the other characters' is that he remembers everything and still has all of his abilities.

Some of you might be wondering that if Marco had died when the world ended, how is he still around today. That, my friend, is a secret. I won't be revealing that until later on.