This was an Idea I had after being introduced to Ace in One Piece, I am not fully caught up with the show as a whole, I myself am currently at the end of the Fish man Island arc and I don't want to have too many spoilers for what comes after, please

Also Please be kind to those who have not seen past episode... 400 there will be spoilers down the road, I will give warnings but if you have not seen past around episode 400 please proceed with caution...

Chapter 1: The Weight of Death

The first thing Fila Newgate remembered was her mother's voice—a sharp, commanding tone that rang louder than the crashing waves outside their secluded island home. Her mother's beauty was a weapon, her ambition an unrelenting storm. She had chased power her entire life, seeking it like a treasure hidden in plain sight, and when she found it, she forced it upon her daughter without hesitation.

The Death-Death Fruit.

Fila didn't understand the weight of it at first. She was too young to know the curse that came with the power. She didn't understand why her mother suddenly dropped to her knees, clutching her chest, gasping for air as if an invisible hand had seized her heart. Fila's wide, terrified eyes had locked onto her mother's as she breathed her last words:

"Don't waste it. You were made for greatness."

Greatness. What a cruel, mocking word. Her mother's lifeless body lay in front of her, and the full force of the Devil Fruit's curse settled like a shadow in her chest. At six years old, Fila became the Grim Reaper of her own small world. She didn't know how to control it. She didn't know how to stop it. All she knew was the unshakable truth she carried from that day forward: Death followed her wherever she went.

She spent years hiding from the world, learning to temper her powers and bury her emotions beneath a calm, beautiful mask. Fila had grown into a woman of quiet grace, a serene presence even as her heart carried the weight of countless lives lost. Her hair, a cascade of silver that shimmered in the sunlight, was a stark contrast to her vibrant golden eyes—eyes that had seen too much.

The Navy had found her when she was seventeen, rumors of her power spreading like wildfire across the seas. She didn't resist when they came for her. In truth, she welcomed it. If they wanted her to be a prisoner, so be it. Perhaps their chains could protect the world from the danger she posed. They called her a high-value weapon, a trump card to be used only in the direst of circumstances. She called it penance.

And so, her life became a gilded cage. The Navy allowed her glimpses of freedom—small outings to different bases, carefully monitored strolls through the towns they controlled—but always under the watchful eyes of guards. It was on one such outing that her life changed once again.

The small port town was bustling with life, the salty air filled with laughter and the calls of merchants. Fila walked quietly through the market, her presence drawing glances from the townsfolk. She was used to the stares, the whispers of admiration or fear. It was as if people could sense the power radiating from her, even if they didn't know who—or what—she was.

She didn't stop to browse the wares. There was no point. The last thing she needed was to become attached to anything or anyone. Her life was a cycle of fleeting moments, passing like the tides. Guard to Guard, Village to Village, Port to Port.

"Oi, you look like you've seen a ghost," a voice called out, playful and full of energy.

Fila turned, her golden eyes narrowing as they met a pair of strikingly unfamiliar ones—dark and full of fire. A man leaned casually against a fruit stand, a grin spreading across his freckled face. His black hair was messy beneath the orange hat tilted low over his brow.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Though you do look like someone who could handle herself in a fight."

"I don't fight," Fila said simply, her voice soft yet firm.

The man's grin widened. "Really? That's a shame. You've got the air of someone with power."

Fila sighed, turning to walk away. She didn't have the patience for idle conversation, especially not with someone so... lively. But the man wasn't finished with her yet.

"I'm Ace, by the way," he said, falling into step beside her. "Portgas D. Ace. What's your name?"

Fila stopped, golden eyes locking onto his. She knew that name. She'd heard it whispered by the Navy officers who guarded her. A notorious pirate, the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.

Her father's pirates.

"It doesn't matter," she said, her voice colder now. "You shouldn't be talking to me."

"Why not?" Ace asked, his grin never faltering.

Fila hesitated. She could feel it already—the spark of life that burned so brightly in him. It was intoxicating, dangerous. For a moment, she let herself wonder what it would be like to stay in his orbit, to bask in the warmth of someone who burned so fiercely.

But she couldn't.

"Because I'm not someone you want to know," she said, turning away.

For the first time, Ace's smile faded, replaced by something softer, something curious. "I don't know about that," he said quietly. "You seem interesting to me."

Fila didn't respond. She couldn't. Instead, she walked away, leaving Ace behind in the bustling market. But as she returned to her Navy escort, her heart felt a little heavier, her mind a little more restless.

She didn't know it yet, but that brief encounter would change everything.

The bar was loud with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional off-key singing of drunken sailors. Ace leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table as he nursed a drink. His crew wasn't with him this time—this was just a quick stop while he explored on his own—but the room was lively enough to remind him of home.

Still, his thoughts weren't on the bar or the drink in his hand. They were on her.

Ace tilted his head back, staring at the weathered ceiling as his mind replayed the brief encounter in the marketplace. That woman… There was something about her. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Oi, Ace, you're looking unusually quiet."

Ace blinked, turning to the group of strangers he'd joined for the evening—merchants, sailors, and a few locals swapping stories over drinks. One of the sailors, a burly man with a thick beard, was watching him with a smirk.

"Thinking about a girl, huh?" the man teased, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Ace smirked, taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe. What's it to you?"

The man laughed harder, slapping his hand on the table. "Must've been some girl to have you looking so distracted. Careful, though—women like that can be trouble."

Ace chuckled, but his mind drifted again. Trouble. That was probably an understatement. There was no denying that she was different. She wasn't just some beautiful woman in a marketplace. There was a presence about her, something that made the air around her feel heavy.

And then there were the details that gnawed at him. The way her silver hair caught the sunlight, like the shimmering waves of the sea. The piercing gold of her eyes, so sharp they seemed to look straight through him. And that power—Ace wasn't sure what it was, but he'd felt it in the air, a quiet force that seemed to hum around her like a storm waiting to break.

He couldn't shake the strange sense of familiarity she carried. It wasn't just her features, though they were striking enough to etch themselves into his mind. No, it was something deeper, something instinctive. She reminded him of someone, but who?

Ace tipped his hat back, staring into the middle distance as a sudden thought struck him.

"Whitebeard," he murmured under his breath.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. It wasn't her hair, or her eyes, or even her presence alone—it was the way she carried herself, that quiet strength that demanded respect without asking for it. It was the way the very air seemed to bend around her, the same way it did around the old man.

But how?

"Whitebeard? You mean the Whitebeard? What about him?" one of the sailors asked, snapping Ace out of his thoughts.

Ace realized he'd spoken aloud and quickly shrugged it off with a grin. "Nothing. Just a random thought."

The table moved on to another round of drinks and stories, but Ace remained lost in his own head. Who was she? And why did she remind him so much of the man he respected more than anyone else in the world?

He didn't know, but one thing was certain: He wasn't going to let this go.

She had piqued his curiosity, and Ace wasn't one to ignore a mystery—especially not one as beautiful and intriguing as her.

For now, though, he raised his glass and joined the laughter around him. The seas were vast, but fate had a funny way of bringing people back together. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time he'd cross paths with her.