The salty wind blew harshly against the cliffs of a secluded island somewhere in the New World. A solitary figure stood at the peak, his long cloak billowing violently behind him. His dark eyes stared out at the horizon, lost in thought.
"Gol D. Arkan... a name long forgotten by the world," murmured the man softly to himself. It had been many years since he'd last heard his real name uttered aloud. The burden of secrecy weighed heavily on his heart, but he knew the cost of exposure was far greater.
Below, the sea roared restlessly, mirroring his turbulent emotions. The world had changed dramatically since his father, the legendary Pirate King Gol D. Roger, was executed. Arkan had watched silently as the balance of power shifted, pirates rising and falling, marines growing stronger. Yet, he remained unseen, observing the tides from the shadows.
A faint, familiar sense stirred within him. It was faint yet powerful, like the heat of a distant flame. A smile tugged at his lips.
"Ace... you've grown stronger," Arkan whispered proudly, picturing his younger brother, Portgas D. Ace, setting out on his own journey. Despite the distance, Arkan had never truly left Ace's side, intervening subtly to protect him from dangers his brother never even knew existed.
Arkan's thoughts were interrupted by the soft rustle of footsteps behind him. Turning slowly, he found an old friend standing there—a figure he hadn't seen in years.
"Rayleigh," Arkan greeted softly, acknowledging the older man with a respectful nod.
"Arkan," Rayleigh responded warmly, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "The seas are changing rapidly. Are you certain staying hidden is still the best course?"
Arkan sighed deeply. "For now, yes. My presence would disrupt the balance further."
Rayleigh stepped forward, joining Arkan at the cliff's edge. "And Ace? Do you still intend to watch from afar?"
Arkan's jaw tightened slightly. "Until the moment demands otherwise. But make no mistake, Rayleigh—should Ace ever need me, no force in this world can stop me from reaching him."
Rayleigh nodded slowly, recognizing the resolve in Arkan's voice. "Then let us hope that day never comes."
After a moment of silent contemplation, Rayleigh broke the silence again, "You've sensed it too, haven't you? The storm brewing on the horizon?"
Arkan's eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed into the distance. "Yes. An unprecedented clash is coming, and many threads of destiny will intertwine. It will shake the foundations of the world itself."
Rayleigh placed a reassuring hand on Arkan's shoulder. "Whatever happens, the world needs a guardian, someone who can protect it from descending into chaos."
Arkan turned his gaze towards his old friend, resolve firm in his eyes. "I will do whatever it takes."
As Rayleigh departed, Arkan turned back toward the sea, his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. Deep within his heart, he knew that day was rapidly approaching, and he would soon have to step out of the shadows—whether the world was ready for him or not.
Arkan descended the cliffs, his footsteps firm but quiet, making his way into the hidden alcove where he lived in isolation. The cavernous hideout was filled with ancient artifacts, maps, and treasures accumulated over years of secret voyages. Among them, a portrait of a young Ace smiled brightly, a reminder of why he had chosen this path.
"Soon," Arkan whispered gently, brushing his fingertips across the picture, "soon the world will know that the bloodline of Gol D. Roger has not faded."
Arkan spent the evening preparing his weapons and honing his haki, each strike and swing reinforcing his unyielding determination. He knew the battles ahead would demand every ounce of strength he possessed. But he was ready—ready to face the world, ready to protect his brother, and ready to fulfill the legacy his father left behind.