The jungle gave way to the beach, and Siren's eyes widened as she took in the enormous ship anchored in the bay. It was unlike anything she had ever seen-white as the clouds above, with towering masts and sails bearing a crescent-shaped emblem.

"What is that?" Siren asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"That," Marco said with a small, proud smile, "is the Moby Dick. Whitebeard's ship. Our home."

Siren tilted her head, letting the name roll through her mind. Moby Dick. It felt important somehow, as if just hearing it carried weight.

They reached the smaller boats at the shore, where a few pirates waited, watching the newcomers with guarded expressions. Jozu stepped forward to explain, but their suspicion was clear.

"Who's the girl?" one of them asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"She's coming with us," Jozu said gruffly, not offering further explanation.

"That's for Pops to decide," another pirate muttered.

The short ride to the Moby Dick was tense, the salty breeze doing little to ease the palpable wariness among the pirates. Siren sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the enormous ship as they approached. As soon as they climbed aboard, her attention was pulled in every direction-pirates bustling about, ropes creaking, the faint scent of rum and seawater mingling in the air.

And then she saw him.

Whitebeard sat in a massive chair at the center of the deck, a towering figure with an aura that demanded both respect and awe. His white mustache was as grand as the ship itself, and his sharp eyes gleamed with curiosity as they fell on the group.

"So," Whitebeard rumbled, his deep voice carrying across the deck, "who do we have here?"

Before Siren could speak, Jozu stepped forward. "Captain, this is Siren. We found her on the island. She's... unique."

Vista added, "She gave Marco a Devil Fruit. Said it was meant for him."

Whitebeard's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze shifting to Marco, who held the fruit tightly in his hands. Then his attention returned to Siren, studying her closely.

"And why would a child give away a Devil Fruit?" Whitebeard asked, his tone curious but cautious.

Siren straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Because it wasn't for me. It was for him. The island grew it for him."

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "The island grew it? You're saying it spoke to you?"

Siren nodded, her forest-green eyes unwavering. "I hear The Voice of All Things. It told me to leave my home, to find you, and to give him the fruit. So I did."

The deck fell silent, the crew exchanging uneasy glances. Some of them whispered to one another, skepticism written across their faces.

"That's quite a story," Whitebeard said, his tone measured.

"It's not just a story," Siren replied firmly. "It's the truth."

As she spoke, Whitebeard felt a strange sensation-a deep, thrumming energy, almost like the sea itself was whispering to him. He couldn't explain it, but it resonated with something deep inside him.

"She's not lying," Marco said quietly, stepping closer to Siren. "I can feel it too. The island, the trees, the animals-they were all connected to her. It's real."

Whitebeard studied the boy for a moment before turning his attention back to Siren. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But spirit alone doesn't make you part of this crew."

Siren crossed her arms, her red hair catching the sunlight. "I'm not here to prove myself to anyone. I'm here because I belong. And you know it."

The crew erupted into murmurs again, some of them chuckling at her audacity.

Whitebeard let out a deep, booming laugh, his mustache twitching with amusement. "You're a bold one, aren't you?"

"Bold, smart, and right," Siren said with a faint smirk.

That earned her another round of laughter from the crew, though some of them still eyed her warily.

"She's given your boy a Devil Fruit," Vista said, stepping forward. "A strong one, by the looks of it. She hasn't done us any harm yet, Captain."

"And what's your plan now, girl?" Whitebeard asked, his voice softer but no less commanding.

"To stay," Siren said simply. "To learn. To grow. To protect what matters."

Whitebeard leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. The thrumming sensation in his chest grew stronger, and he felt a strange certainty settle over him. "You've got a sharp tongue and a strong will. And if what you say is true, then the world sent you here for a reason."

He turned to his crew, his voice rising. "She stays."

The crew exchanged glances, some nodding, others still skeptical. But none dared question Whitebeard's decision.

Siren looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and determination. For the first time, she felt truly seen.

"Welcome aboard," Whitebeard said, his tone warm but firm. "You've got a lot to prove, little one. But something tells me you'll do just fine."

Siren nodded, her heart swelling with purpose. This was where she was meant to be.

...

Vista, who was still youthful in his early twenties, gave a knowing smile and clapped a hand on Marco's shoulder. "You've got yourself a strong fruit there, kid," he said with a wink. "But be careful with it. That's no small power."

Marco nodded, still adjusting to the weight of the Devil Fruit's power. But before he could respond, Vista continued.

"Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on you. We've got a few younger lads and lasses who'll be looking up to you soon enough."

Siren, still standing at the edge of the deck, felt her pulse quicken. She knew that for the first time in her life, she was part of something real. But then, she felt a presence behind her-Jozu, a towering figure of strength, no more than16years old, though he carried himself with the authority of someone much older.

Jozu, still developing his remarkable power, gave Siren a measured look, the faintest smile curling at his lips. "You've got a long road ahead of you, but I've seen enough to know you're not just talk."

Siren nodded, the thrill of belonging coursing through her veins. She wasn't sure how yet, but she was determined to prove herself.

"Jozu's one of the best fighters we've got," Vista explained. "But you're right-he's still young. He'll get his chance to lead, just like you will."

She glanced at Jozu, noticing the quiet confidence in his eyes. "I'll do my best," Siren said softly.

"Good," Jozu rumbled, his voice deep for someone so young. "I like people who don't waste words."

Before they could talk further, an older voice rang out from the shadows of the ship.

"Vista, Jozu, get back to work. And you-" The gruff figure stepped forward, his face lined with age and experience. "What's your name, girl?"

Siren turned to see a seasoned, middle-aged man with a scar running across his cheek, his stance exuding authority. This was one of the division commanders of the crew, who had been with Whitebeard since the early days. He must have been in his late 40s, perhaps even early 50s, his body worn from years of battle.

"Siren," she answered, her voice steady.

"Well, Siren," he said, eyeing her carefully. "You've got a lot to prove to this crew. You'll have to show us you're more than just words. If Whitebeard trusts you, we'll give you a chance. But don't expect us to go easy."

Siren's gaze never wavered as she met the captain's intense stare. "I don't want easy."

The commander gave a short nod, a silent approval in his eyes. "Good. You're gonna need that resolve."

"My name is Trust. You're going to report to me in the morning."

"Yes sir." She nodded politely.

...

Later that night, as the crew gathered around for dinner, Siren found herself seated with the younger members of the crew, sharing stories and laughter. It was a far cry from the loneliness she had known before, and her heart swelled with a sense of belonging. She could feel the connection, the familial bond that Whitebeard had cultivated over the years.

As the night drew to a close, Whitebeard himself came over to where Siren sat, his presence commanding yet gentle. His eyes were warm, but there was something more behind them-a sense of pride in his crew.

"You've done well today," Whitebeard said, his voice deep but not harsh. "But remember, the road ahead won't be easy. We've all lost something, and we fight not just for ourselves, but for each other."

Siren nodded, her resolve strengthening. "I understand, Captain. And I'll prove that I belong here."

Whitebeard's eyes softened for a moment, and he gave her a slight smile. "I think you will."

He paused, his gaze steady and full of warmth. "And from now on, you're one of my daughters, Siren. You're family now, just as much as any of them."

Siren's breath caught in her throat. Her chest tightened, emotions welling up that she had never known how to express. For the first time in so long, she felt like she truly belonged. Tears stung her eyes as she stood, a lump forming in her throat. Without thinking, she crossed the short distance between them and threw her arms around Whitebeard, holding him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I won't let you down, Father."

Whitebeard, ever the towering figure, let out a soft chuckle, his large hands resting gently on her back. "I know you won't, little one. I know you won't."

The rest of the crew watched from a distance, a quiet sense of pride swelling in their hearts. The bonds between them were unspoken but strong, forged not by blood but by the shared struggles, victories, and the knowledge that in this family, they would always have each other's backs.