"Wait a minute," Ace said, the realization dawning on him. "I ate a Devil Fruit. Does that mean... I'm an anchor now?"
Before anyone could answer, he reacted in the most Ace-like way possible. With the confidence of a seasoned sailor and the grace of an Olympic diver, he took a running start and launched himself into the surf.
"Haha, it's fine, it's fine! That fire must have been an illusion! I'm totally—glub... glub...!" His triumphant shout was cut short as he sank like a beautifully thrown rock.
After a frantic and exhausting effort, Jerry and Deuce managed to drag his sputtering, dead-weight body back onto the shore. He coughed up half the ocean and was back on his feet in seconds, his recovery just as instantaneous as his sinking. The weakness had been terrifyingly real.
He stretched out his fingers, and a small, hesitant flame danced to life on his fingertip.
"So it's true," he said, staring at the little flame, his usual boundless energy replaced by a rare seriousness. "I'm a hammer in water. If I fall in, I'm done for..."
His worry was justified. In a world that was mostly sea, for a man who dreamed of being a great pirate, losing the ability to swim was a catastrophic weakness.
Jerry clapped him firmly on the shoulder. "Relax. So you're an anchor now. That's what your friend is for." He grinned. "We've got your back."
"Haha... you're right!" Ace's smile returned, brushing the worry aside. What was done was done.
Deuce, who had been pacing and muttering to himself, suddenly froze. A brilliant flash of inspiration lit up his eyes. "Ace!" he shouted. "That flame! Can you control it? Can you produce it at will?!"
"Eh? I guess so," Ace answered, a little confused by his sudden intensity. The power felt like a part of him now, an extension of his own will.
"Then we have it!" Deuce yelled, his voice filled with joyous relief. "We have a way to leave! Fire is energy! We can escape this miserable island!"
He excitedly pulled a worn piece of paper and a pen stub from the small, waterproof bag he'd salvaged. He began sketching furiously, his hands flying across the page. "We build a small paddle wheeler. The flames turn the gears, the gears turn the paddles, and the ship gets a propulsion force that can ignore the wind and currents!" he explained, his passion reignited.
Jerry peered at the design. It was clever, practical, and vaguely familiar. So that's how he built his first boat, the Striker, he realized. "That's a brilliant plan. Let's get to work."
The next few days were a blur of productive labor. Deuce, the meticulous architect, finalized the blueprints for all the main components. Jerry, the resourceful handyman, led the scavenging missions, finding the perfect pieces of wreckage for their new ship. Ace provided the raw muscle and, thanks to his new ability, an endless supply of fire for their nightly campfire, over which Jerry grilled the strange but edible roots and grubs they found in the bird's hoard.
Their bond, forged in crisis, was now tempered by shared work and warm meals. A few days later, their ship was complete. It was a small, sleek, single-person paddle boat, ingeniously crafted from the scraps of giants. Deuce, with a proud flourish, christened it the Vanguard. It sat on the shore, gleaming in the sun, a testament to their shared hope.
"Alright! She's finished!" Ace shouted excitedly. "Before we go, let's have a party! Let's eat all the food we have left!"
"Finally! I'm starving!" Jerry cheered, already reaching for their supply bag.
"Hey!" Deuce rationally intervened, slapping his hand away. "That's our food for the voyage! We can't eat it now!"
"Okay, fine..." Jerry sighed dramatically. He grabbed three makeshift bottles filled with fresh water. "Then we'll have to make do with this. A toast, with water instead of grog!"
The three raised their bottles, the plastic clinking together in the quiet bay. They drank deeply, the cool water a balm for their hard work.
With a whoop of excitement, Ace leaped onto the stern of the Vanguard. "Let's go! Get aboard!"
Jerry and Deuce loaded their precious supplies into the small storage hatch and took their seats on either side of Ace.
"Haha! Set sail!" Ace yelled.
A brilliant plume of fire erupted from his feet, blasting backward and hitting the paddle mechanism. The wheels began to turn, slowly at first, then faster. The Vanguard surged forward, cutting a clean white wake through the turquoise water.
"Full speed ahead!" Jerry shouted, pointing towards the open sea. "If you're going to say goodbye, do it now! This island is about to be just a memory!"
Ace laughed, pouring more power into his flames. The ship shot away from the coast like an arrow leaving a bow, easily breaking through the treacherous currents that had held them prisoner.
"It's working! It's so fast!" Deuce cheered. "This sea can't hold us anymore!"
Just as the elation of their escape washed over them, a sharp, familiar shriek echoed from the sky. The three looked up. The giant bird was back. And this time, it hadn't come alone.
It was leading an army.
From dozens of cave openings dotting the island's cliffs—holes they now realized were nests—countless giant birds poured into the sky, a living cloud of screeching fury that blotted out the sun.
"What?! How can there be so many?!" Deuce panicked. They were still close to the shore, with no way to outrun such a massive flock.
"Looks like the cafeteria just opened for dinner," Jerry quipped, his voice tight with nerves, but he refused to show fear.
Ace, however, just grinned. His fists were already wrapped in blazing fire, his body humming with fighting spirit. "You think you can win just because you have numbers?"
"Don't be impulsive, Ace!" Deuce pleaded. "If you fight here and fall into the water, you're finished!"
"But you two are still here, aren't you?" Ace replied, his smile calm and unshakable. It was the ultimate expression of trust. The strange birds were closing in, but he remained perfectly composed. He looked at his two companions, his expression turning serious for a moment.
"It's a rare fate that brought us together on this island," he said, his voice quiet but clear over the growing roar of wings. "I came out here looking for adventure, but I never expected to find partners like you. So, from now on... you're sailing with me. Let's climb to the top together!"
His voice grew louder, filled with excitement and conviction. "This is our first voyage! And to celebrate..." He turned his gaze to the sky, his grin turning wild and feral. "...let's start with some fireworks!"
He drew back his arm, channeling all his newfound power into his right hand. He roared, a sound like a volcano erupting, shaking the very air.
"FIRE FIST!!!"
An immense fist made of pure, incandescent flame erupted from his hand. It soared into the sky, a crimson dragon that incinerated the front line of the bird flock in an instant. The shockwave and heat from the blast sent the rest scattering in terror.
He stood on the deck, wreathed in embers, his silhouette framed against the fiery sky. This was his declaration. He was announcing his arrival to the world.
"Fire Fist" Ace was born.