Chapter 1: Not Ready Yet
The Thousand Sunny swayed rhythmically on the expansive waves of the Grand Line, cradled in the stillness of a serene night. Despite the tranquil surroundings, an undercurrent of unspoken tension coursed through the Straw Hat Pirates. They stood at the precipice of history, with only a single day separating them from reaching Laugh Tale.
Nami had meticulously charted their route, ensuring each detail of the long and arduous journey was accounted for. The path that had brought them here was far from straightforward. They had vanquished powerful adversaries, liberated oppressed kingdoms, and overturned despots. Along the way, they had freed the enslaved and alleviated hunger—most notably their own captain's, as some might jokingly add. Every trial and triumph had led to this singular moment—the final stage of their quest for the One Piece.
The legendary island loomed ahead, shrouded in mystery and anticipation. Its treasures were beyond mere material value; they held the weight of a legacy. For Monkey D. Luffy, this journey represented the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, one ignited in his heart since childhood.
Yet, on this still night, an unfamiliar heaviness settled upon him. Despite the clarity of the sky and the crispness of the air, an intangible weight pressed on Luffy as he sat cross-legged on the Sunny's figurehead. His straw hat hung loosely from its string, and his gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, where unspoken thoughts churned beyond his grasp.
—
Below deck, the usual lively energy of the crew was subdued. The boisterous camaraderie that typically defined them was absent, replaced by a quiet anticipation that electrified the atmosphere.
Sanji leaned against the galley door, a cigarette perched between his fingers, as he muttered to himself. His mind was consumed with thoughts of the meal he would prepare for tomorrow. "It can't be just any meal," he said softly, exhaling a thin cloud of smoke. "It has to be a feast worthy of the Pirate King's crew—a banquet fit for gods."
Nearby, Zoro sat cross-legged with his swords placed carefully beside him. His head was bowed, his breathing steady, almost as if meditating. However, the faint crease in his brow hinted at his inner thoughts. Even Zoro, who rarely dwelled on the past, could not completely ignore the weight of what lay ahead.
At the helm, Nami clutched her maps tightly, her instincts as a navigator whispering warnings despite the calm appearance of the sea. Her lips moved faintly as she recalculated their route for the fifth time that evening. "It's too quiet," she murmured, her eyes flickering toward the horizon. "It's like the ocean is holding its breath."
Robin sat under the mast, her gaze fixed on the stars above. While her expression remained serene, her thoughts were a whirlwind of anticipation and questions. Her lifelong search for the truth behind the Void Century had led her to this juncture. Clenching her fists, she wondered, Will I find it? Will the answers we've fought so hard for finally come to light?
At the ship's railing, Usopp and Chopper whispered excitedly to one another, their voices laced with awe. "What if it's a city of gold?" Usopp speculated, gesturing animatedly. "Or a treasure so vast it can't even fit on the Sunny?"
"Or ancient texts that reveal unimaginable secrets!" Chopper chimed in, his eyes wide and glimmering under the moonlight.
Even Brook, usually the ship's jovial spirit, was unusually subdued. He sat cross-legged with his violin resting on his lap, idly plucking at its strings to produce a haunting melody that drifted across the deck.
Franky busied himself with the Sunny, tightening bolts and polishing every surface until the ship gleamed. "You're going to shine like a SUPER star tomorrow!" he said with a grin, patting the Sunny affectionately. Despite his upbeat tone, there was a slight edge of unease in his voice. "Fit for the Pirate King's crew."
—
Amid the subdued buzz of his crew's thoughts and activities, Luffy remained lost in his own. His eyes stayed fixed on the endless ocean, his mind turning to the people who had shaped his journey. Shanks—the man who had given him his iconic straw hat and sparked his dream. Ace and Sabo—his brothers always willing to sacrifice themselves for him. As memories of their sacrifices and encouragement swirled within him, his ever-present grin faltered.
"This is it," he murmured, his voice almost lost in the gentle rhythm of the waves. His hand gripped the figurehead tightly as he added softly, "Tomorrow… we'll finally know what's at the end."
"You're unusually quiet tonight, Captain," came a deep voice from behind.
Luffy turned to see Jinbe climbing up to join him. Despite his massive frame, the fish-man moved with surprising grace as he perched beside Luffy on the figurehead. Jinbe's steady presence exuded a calm that grounded the moment.
"I can be quiet if I want!" Luffy retorted, though his signature grin returned as if by instinct.
Jinbe chuckled, his laugh resonating like distant thunder. "You can," he replied with a nod. "But it's not your usual style."
For a moment, the two sat in silence, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Then Jinbe spoke again, his voice thoughtful. "It's only natural to feel the weight of it all. Laugh Tale isn't just another island—it's the culmination of a journey that began long before most of us joined you."
Luffy tilted his head, his expression serious. "I don't think it's the weight," he said slowly. "It's more like… I keep thinking about Shanks. About Ace. About everyone who helped me get here."
Jinbe gave a solemn nod. "They'd all be proud," he said simply. "You've gone farther than anyone ever imagined."
Luffy's grin returned, broader this time. "Yeah. You're right."
—
The tranquil night began to shift. Nami looked up from her maps sharply, her instincts as a navigator tingling with unease. She clutched the log pose in her hand, scanning the dark horizon. "Something feels off," she muttered, her voice cutting through the ship's quiet.
Zoro opened one eye, his sharp gaze locking on her. "What kind of 'off' are we talking about?"
Before Nami could reply, the wind picked up suddenly, whistling low and ominous. The waves, which had been calm, started to swell and churn restlessly. Clouds rolled in faster than seemed possible, obscuring the brilliant stars from view.
The crew gathered instinctively on the deck, their earlier quiet giving way to tension. Usopp's earlier excitement melted into unease as he clutched the railing. "Uh… does it feel like the weather's angry at us?"
Brook, his skeletal form illuminated eerily by the moonlight, tilted his head. "Yohoho… The air does feel vengeful, as if it bears a grudge."
Sanji discarded his cigarette, his sharp gaze fixed on the darkening horizon. "This isn't just weather," he said grimly. "Something's coming."
Golden streaks of lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the ship in brief bursts of brilliance. The wind howled with a fierce intensity, tugging violently at the Sunny's sails. The ship rocked under the growing force of the waves, its frame groaning in protest.
"What's going on here?!" Franky shouted over the escalating chaos, gripping a mast for balance.
"This isn't natural!" Nami yelled back, her voice tinged with urgency. Her wide eyes darted to the horizon as she added, "The storm—it's not random. It feels like it's targeting us!"
Despite the chaos, Luffy stood firm at the figurehead, seemingly unfazed by the raging storm. His straw hat was secured tightly, and his hand gripped the lion-shaped figurehead with unwavering determination.
Amid the chaos, an unfamiliar sensation gripped Luffy's chest—a strange pull that neither fear nor excitement could explain. It was something deeper, something he couldn't quite name.
The golden lightning intensified, streaking through the darkened sky and converging ominously above the Sunny. The air thrummed with energy, dense and suffocating, as if the very atmosphere was charged with anticipation.
"Get down!" Zoro bellowed, drawing his swords instinctively. The crew barely had time to shield their eyes as a final, blinding flash of golden light erupted from the heavens.
When the light faded, a haunting stillness enveloped the ship.
—
Zoro blinked as his vision adjusted to a strange and unsettling scene. The world around him was eerily familiar, yet distorted. Jagged rocks jutted from barren earth, silhouetted against a dull, overcast sky. Sparse vegetation broke the monotony of the desolate terrain, adding to the bleakness. In the distance, a small pirate crew stood huddled together, their forms battered and trembling with despair.
"I know this place…" Zoro muttered, his voice low and tense. His sharp gaze swept over the defeated pirates, recognition striking him like a blade. These were faces he knew—a ragtag group of marines-turned-pirates with insignificant bounties that he had once collected. The memory surfaced vividly, undeniable in its clarity.
Instinctively, Zoro's hand reached for Wado Ichimonji, his grip tightening on the familiar hilt as if to anchor himself. His breath quickened. "This is… before," he murmured, the weight of realization sinking in. This wasn't merely a memory—it was tangible, vivid, and impossibly real.
The defeated pirates shuffled nervously, their fear palpable as they stared at him. Zoro took a step forward, his voice a low growl. "What the hell is going on here?"
—
Nami jolted awake, her senses overwhelmed by the unmistakable scent of tangerines. For a fleeting moment, the aroma was comforting, evoking memories of home. But as her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, the sight before her shattered any sense of peace. Her old orchard stretched endlessly around her, its vibrant green leaves swaying gently in the breeze. In the distance, the dark and looming silhouette of Arlong Park rose against the horizon.
Her heart raced as the fortress came into focus—a cruel reminder of chains, tears, and her darkest days. Instinctively, she reached for her shoulder, her fingers brushing against a mark she had thought erased from her life. The familiar texture of the tattoo, once a symbol of her enslavement, burned against her skin like an accusation.
"No…" she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. Her hand lingered over the mark as dread seeped into her chest. "This isn't real. It can't be." The words felt hollow, as if they might shatter against the overwhelming reality of the scene before her.
Her gaze swept frantically over the orchard, searching for anything to break the illusion. But the tangerine trees stood defiant, their leaves whispering memories she had long buried. The crashing waves in the distance mocked her with their rhythmic roar.
Her whisper grew louder, tinged with anger. "No. I've fought too hard to come back here."
A surge of defiance rose within her, like a storm gathering strength. She had faced down sea kings, challenged warlords, and resisted the tyranny of the World Government. This place—the symbol of her torment—could not hold her anymore. Her hands balled into fists, nails digging into her palms. "I won't let this drag me back," she said fiercely, her voice steadier now, filled with the strength she had earned.
—
Usopp found himself standing atop a familiar hill, gazing out at Syrup Village. In the distance, Kaya's mansion stood bathed in the soft hues of dawn, its grand outline stark against the serene landscape. Nostalgia struck him hard—a bittersweet mix of warmth and unease. This hill had been a place of refuge, a vantage point from which he had woven tall tales and dreamed of faraway adventures.
But as the realization of his surroundings settled in, unease turned to dread. Everything looked exactly as he remembered—the gentle rustle of leaves in the morning breeze, the quiet stillness of the village—but it felt too real to be a dream.
"This has to be some kind of illusion," he muttered, gripping his head with both hands as if to steady his racing thoughts. "But it feels so real… too real."
He turned toward the village, his eyes tracing the familiar paths and buildings. His heart sank as he remembered the events that were about to unfold. The treachery of Klahadore, the fight to protect Kaya, and the life-or-death battle that had once defined his resolve.
"Klahadore… Kuro," he muttered, his voice rising with frustration. "Why am I back here?" He clenched his fists as memories surged—of battles fought, friendships forged, and a journey that had carried him far beyond the borders of this small village.
Each step forward was weighed down by confusion and unease, but one thought burned bright in his mind: This isn't where I belong anymore.
—
Sanji blinked as the cacophony of Baratie's bustling kitchen surrounded him. The clatter of pans, the hiss of sizzling food, and the gruff commands of impatient cooks were all painfully familiar. Every sound, every smell brought him back to a time he thought he had left behind. The rich aroma of freshly prepared dishes hung in the air, mingling with the fiery passion and chaos that had always defined the floating restaurant.
His heart raced as his eyes landed on a figure at the center of the storm. Zeff, with his imposing presence and bushy mustache, barked orders with the same authority as a captain commanding his crew. Seeing his old mentor filled Sanji with a strange mix of warmth and confusion.
"Why the hell am I here?" Sanji muttered under his breath. He looked at his reflection in one of the hanging pans, inspecting his face closely. He looked younger, smoother—untouched by the countless battles he had fought alongside the Straw Hats. The scars he had earned through his journey were absent, leaving his face unmarked and alien to him.
"This… this is before everything," he whispered, realization dawning like a slow, crushing wave. "Before Luffy, before the crew, before the Thousand Sunny…"
The sounds of the kitchen pulled at him, each one tugging at memories of long hours spent honing his craft under Zeff's relentless gaze. He remembered the camaraderie of the Baratie's crew, their rough camaraderie forging bonds like tempered steel. But now, standing in the heart of his past, a gnawing sense of displacement consumed him.
"This isn't right," Sanji murmured, his jaw tightening. His thoughts turned to his crewmates—to their laughter, their struggles, and the shared dreams that had carried them across countless seas. His gaze hardened as he steeled himself against the pull of nostalgia. "I don't belong here anymore."
—
Chopper opened his eyes to a world painted white with snow, the icy air biting at his fur. Drum Kingdom stretched out before him, its frosty landscape unchanged from his memories. The sight of Drum Castle standing tall against the gray sky sent a wave of nostalgia and unease rippling through him. Each crunch of snow beneath his hooves felt all too real, a sensory reminder of the harsh winters he had grown up in.
In the distance, the unmistakable voice of Doctorine rang out, her sharp tone cutting through the chill air like a beacon. For a moment, a sense of comfort flickered in Chopper's heart. This place, this world—it had once been his entire life. The sights and sounds of Drum Island were woven into his earliest and most formative memories.
But as the familiarity of the scene settled in, so did the unease. "Why am I back here?" Chopper asked aloud, his voice trembling. His breath misted in the cold air, adding to the surreal weight of the moment. "Was it all a dream? The Sunny? Luffy? Robin?"
The idea of his adventures with the Straw Hats being nothing more than an illusion struck him with a pang of despair. Yet his memories were vivid—too vivid to be mere fantasies. He looked down at his small, furry hands and remembered the times they had healed his friends, the times they had fought for a future worth believing in.
"Doctorine!" he called out, his voice tinged with hope and desperation. The old woman's commanding presence had always been a source of strength for him. If anyone could help him understand, it would be her.
As he trudged through the snow, his thoughts turned to his crewmates. He remembered their faces, their voices, their unwavering belief in each other. The contrast between those warm memories and the cold isolation of Drum Kingdom only deepened the sense that something was terribly wrong.
—
Robin opened her eyes to an all-too-familiar sight: the endless desert sands of Alabasta stretching to the horizon. The dry heat pressed against her skin, the air heavy and still, with faint gusts carrying grains of sand that pricked at her face. Around her stood the ruins of an ancient civilization, their weathered stones whispering secrets long buried.
Her heart tightened as her gaze locked on a dark silhouette in the distance. She knew it well—Crocodile. His presence loomed ominously, stirring memories of deception and desperation.
Robin's fingers twitched instinctively, her body preparing for a fight, but she froze, her breath catching. This wasn't just a memory. It was too vivid, too real. She clenched her fists, trying to suppress the wave of unease that threatened to engulf her.
"This isn't real," she said softly, her voice steady but laced with tension. She turned slowly, taking in the familiar contours of the ruins. Everything felt alive in a way memories shouldn't. The weight of the past bore down on her, heavy and unrelenting, yet she wasn't the same person who had once lived through these events.
"I'm not the same," she reminded herself firmly. The woman who had allied with Crocodile in her desperation was gone. In her place stood someone who had fought for truth and trust alongside the Straw Hats. And she refused to let this specter of the past define her again.
—
Franky blinked as the unmistakable sounds of machinery filled his ears. The clang of hammers, the buzz of saws cutting through wood, and the hum of welding torches formed a familiar symphony. The sight of the Franky House, with its loud and colorful design, came into focus, and around him, familiar faces bustled with energy. Mozu, Kiwi, Zambai, and the rest of his family worked in perfect harmony, just as they had in the old days.
"What's going on?" Franky muttered, his mechanical fists clenching at his sides. The weight of their steel grounded him, a stark contrast to the surreal moment he found himself in.
"This… this doesn't make sense," he added, his deep voice trembling slightly. He scanned the faces of his companions, all of them seemingly untouched by time, their laughter and shouts filling the workshop as if no time had passed since he had last been here.
But something was wrong. This was before the Thousand Sunny, before he had joined the crew, before he had crafted his masterpiece—a ship that was more than wood and metal. The Sunny was his pride, his dream brought to life, and being here, in this moment of his past, felt stifling.
Franky slammed a fist against a nearby beam, the loud crack echoing through the workshop. "This ain't right," he growled. His thoughts turned to the Straw Hats—their bonds, their shared victories, their unshakable trust in each other. That was where he belonged now, not here.
"I've moved on. I don't belong here anymore," he said, his voice filled with conviction.
—
Brook found himself standing aboard a ghostly, silent ship. The decaying wood creaked beneath his feet, the tattered sails flapping softly in the windless air. A dim, eerie light illuminated the deck, casting long shadows that seemed to dance mockingly. The haunting silence pressed down on him like an old, unwelcome companion.
"The Florian Triangle," he murmured, recognizing the ship instantly. The years he had spent here, adrift and alone, felt like a lifetime ago. Yet now he was back, surrounded by the very stillness that had been both his solace and his torment.
"Was it all a dream?" Brook whispered, his skeletal fingers tightening around his cane sword. The memories of his time with the Straw Hats were vivid in his mind—their laughter, their kindness, the camaraderie he had come to cherish. Could it all have been an illusion?
His hollow eyes scanned the desolate ship. The solitude that had once defined his existence now felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the warmth of the Sunny and the family he had found aboard it.
"Luffy… the crew…" he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. The thought that his cherished memories might be nothing more than figments was almost unbearable.
—
Jinbe stood on the deck of a ship he knew intimately—the Sun Pirates' vessel. The creak of the wooden planks beneath his feet and the rhythmic crash of the waves felt achingly familiar. Around him, the faces of his old crew bustled with energy and purpose. Aladine and the others moved with the camaraderie and strength that had once been Jinbe's anchor.
His heart twisted as he took in the scene. These were his brothers and sisters, the family he had fought beside, the crew who had shared his dreams of freedom. The sight filled him with a bittersweet mix of pride and sorrow.
"This isn't right," he said aloud, his voice resonating with quiet authority. His hands clenched into fists, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on him. He remembered the battles they had fought, the sacrifices they had made, and the bond they had shared.
But his journey with the Straw Hats had forged something new—something just as powerful. He thought of Luffy's unwavering determination, the crew's laughter, their shared purpose. These memories burned brightly within him, contrasting sharply with the scene before him.
—
When Luffy opened his eyes, he wasn't on the Sunny. He stood in a vast, golden expanse, the ground beneath him glowing faintly with an ethereal light. The horizon stretched endlessly, blending into the golden haze that surrounded him. The air hummed with energy, each vibration resonating deep within him, filling him with an unexplainable sense of anticipation.
In the distance, a figure began to take shape, its form massive and radiant. As it drew closer, Luffy could make out a wide grin and a crown resting atop its head. The presence exuded both warmth and power, an aura that was equal parts comforting and overwhelming.
"Joy Boy…" the figure's deep voice rumbled, each word heavy with ancient wisdom and sorrow.
Luffy clenched his fists, his jaw set with determination. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice echoing across the vast expanse.
"You are not ready," the figure replied, its tone sorrowful yet firm. The words carried an undeniable weight, as though they bore the accumulated knowledge of countless lifetimes.
"Not ready for what?!" Luffy shouted, frustration flaring in his chest. "We've come so far! We're going to Laugh Tale!" His voice rang out with all the resolve he could muster, defying the figure's declaration.
The figure's grin softened, radiating an almost parental compassion. "The journey to Laugh Tale is not just about the destination. It is a crucible—a series of trials meant to prepare you for what lies beyond. You must return… and learn what you still lack."
—
Luffy awoke with a start, the earthy scent of grass and saltwater filling his senses. The familiar smell grounded him as he blinked against the soft morning light. The landscape around him was bathed in the warm hues of dawn, the sky painted in pinks and oranges as the sun began its slow ascent.
In the distance, a windmill turned lazily, its blades creaking with each rotation. Children's laughter echoed faintly from a nearby village, the carefree voices weaving through the peaceful stillness.
His heart pounded as realization dawned. "Foosha Village," he whispered, the name catching in his throat. This was the place where it all began—the village where he had declared his dream of becoming the Pirate King.
He stumbled to a nearby puddle, the reflection staring back at him stopping him in his tracks. The face was younger, rounder, untouched by the battles and hardships he had endured. His hands trembled as he touched his chest, searching for the scar that marked his journey. It was gone.
"This is… before I set sail," he muttered, his voice filled with confusion and disbelief. The words of the golden figure echoed in his mind: "Go back… and learn what you lack."
Luffy's initial shock began to dissolve, replaced by a growing resolve. He didn't understand the why or how of this situation, and the mention of Joy Boy remained a mystery. But one thing became clear—this was an opportunity, a second chance to strengthen himself for the trials to come.
He rose to his feet, determination burning in his eyes. With a final glance at his reflection, he clenched his fists and took a step forward. This was his chance to learn, to grow, and to ensure that his crew would reach Laugh Tale and achieve their dreams.
Author notes: Hello there! You probably haven't seen me around before. Although I've been reading fanfics since 2018, I'm new to writing them. I'm only giving it a try because I've been looking for a certain kind of story and haven't been able to find it. So, here's my attempt to write what I'd like to read. Reviews are always welcome!