— — — — — —
Meanwhile, in the New World—on a seemingly insignificant island—a storm of power was gathering.
Chosen Pirates from every corner had assembled, but all eyes were fixed on the four figures atop the stage: 'Pirate King' Gol D. Roger, 'the world's strongest man' Whitebeard, 'the Golden Lion' Shiki, and 'Red the Aloof' Patrick Redfield.
Roger stood tall, his voice steady but commanding. "Thank you all for coming. I called you here for one reason. I need your help."
He let the silence stretch, then dropped the bomb. "We're going to overthrow the World Government."
The crowd erupted. Even these battle-hardened pirates, men who feared nothing on land or sea, gawked at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Roger!" a pirate bellowed from the crowd. "I don't mean to underestimate us, but you know how strong the Government is. We don't have the numbers to make a dent in them, let alone topple them!"
Shouts of agreement rippled through the mob. Eight hundred years of unshakable rule weighed heavily on everyone's mind.
"Quiet."
Whitebeard's voice thundered like an earthquake, shutting them up instantly. His sheer presence pressed on them like gravity.
When the crowd fell silent, Roger spoke again. "You're right. We can't do it alone. But I've found allies—strong, trustworthy allies. With them at our side, overthrowing the World Government isn't just a dream anymore. If we stand together, we can make it real."
"Why should we care?" another pirate scoffed. "Government falls, I'm still a pirate. What's in it for me?"
Roger's gaze sharpened. "You're really satisfied with just being a pirate? Tell me—why did you take to the seas in the first place? Was it truly because you love being hunted, hated, and despised? Do you want your children and grandchildren to spit on your name, to curse you as nothing but a criminal?"
A heavy silence spread. For all their bravado, the truth hit hard. Very few here had chosen this life willingly. Most had been driven into piracy by circumstance—poverty, persecution, survival. The bloodthirsty maniacs were the minority. Most just wanted freedom, a life worth living without chains.
At last, one pirate called out, voice steady. "Roger… I'll admit, your words stir me. But it's not enough. If you want my blade, then tell us—what is the Pirate King's treasure? What is the One Piece?"
The words electrified the crowd. Every pirate raised their head, eyes burning with hunger. Even Shiki, Whitebeard, and Redfield turned toward Roger with interest. After all, this was the dream they all pursued.
Roger drew in a deep breath."So you want to know? Fine. If that's what it takes, then I'll tell you…"
...
Eight hundred years ago, the world was home to a vast, prosperous kingdom. At the heart of its capital stood a colossal tree that reached the heavens, revered as the Sacred Tree. The city had been built beneath its sheltering branches, and the tree bore countless fruits. Whoever ate them would gain extraordinary abilities.
Thanks to this miraculous tree, the kingdom birthed generation after generation of powerful warriors, growing stronger with each passing age. But disaster always comes without warning.
One day, people from the moon descended. They brought with them technology unlike anything the world had ever seen—unimaginably advanced, devastatingly powerful. Nations began to fall one after another under their onslaught.
It was then that the great kingdom called upon the world. A united summons went out, gathering every nation's strength to stand against the invaders. Though the moonfolk's technology was overwhelming, humanity fought with everything it had. At last, together, they managed to drive them back.
The great kingdom had played the most vital role in this victory. But the price was staggering—nearly every one of its champions was mortally wounded. Of the countless mighty warriors they once had, barely a fraction survived.
And that was when ambition reared its head.
Twenty schemers joined forces. Betraying the very alliance that had saved the world, they turned on the wounded kingdom.
They took the battleships originally built to fight the moonfolk and used them to blast apart the Sacred Tree that had sheltered the kingdom for centuries. With one of the ultimate weapons stolen from the moonfolk, Uranus, they slaughtered what remained of the kingdom's defenders.
The kingdom's injured warriors fought desperately, but they were far too weakened. In the end, they fell.
From beneath the uprooted tree, the leader of the twenty unearthed a fruit that granted him a power so terrifying it seemed hopeless to resist. The traitors hurled the fallen tree's trunk into the sea, crushed every kingdom that opposed them, and forged a new order: the so-called World Government.
They then commanded the erasure of all records, eradicating any trace of the truth and burying history itself beneath lies.
But not everyone perished. One man survived. He sought out his old comrades, and with their help, carved into indestructible stone the truth of what had happened.
To keep it safe from the World Government, he placed the final stone—the one that held the whole story—on an island that could never be found.
To guide the worthy, he created four stones pointing the way, leaving behind the hope that one day someone would uncover the truth, reveal it to the world, and topple the government built on betrayal.
(A/N: Chill, OP fans! Yeah, yeah, I know everything here is totally BS. But hey, no matter how wild our guesses get, only Oda-sensei holds the real answer… for now.)
...
"That's the treasure you've all been chasing," Roger said, his voice heavy. "The truth of history itself."
His words left the gathered pirates in silence.
"So you're saying," one of them finally muttered, "that the World Government was built by traitors? And those so-called Celestial Dragons, with their 'noble bloodlines'—they're nothing more than descendants of backstabbing bastards?"
"Well, isn't that rich." Redfield stroked his chin with a smirk. "The world's been ruled for eight centuries by a pack of traitors. That's irony at its finest."
"Tch. And here I thought those pompous fools were untouchable."
"Haha, 'gods who created this world,' huh? More like mongrels," Shiki scoffed. Even among pirates, betrayal was despised—and these so-called Celestial Dragons had the gall to take pride in being the descendants of traitors?
"When I first uncovered this," Roger admitted, shaking his head, "I was just as shaken as you are. But now you all know what the Pirate King's 'treasure' really is. So tell me—what will you choose? Will you rise up against this so-called World Government, founded by damned traitors, and build a world worth living in? Or will you stay the same, skulking as hunted pirates every day of your lives?"
For a long moment, silence hung in the air. Then voices began to rise, one after another.
"Down with the World Government!"
"Cut down the traitors!"
"I'm here to avenge my family anyway."
"Those bastards are dead!"
"The Celestial Dragons' debt is long overdue!"
As the shouts spread like wildfire, Roger couldn't help but smile. Things were moving exactly as he'd hoped.
Then, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Whitebeard studying him.
"Roger," Whitebeard rumbled, "this fruit you spoke of—the one from under the Sacred Tree. What exactly was it?"
Roger's face hardened. "The Time-Time Fruit… an ability so broken it's almost impossible to counter. There are actually two fruits with the same name, but this one's on a whole other level, a real god-tier. I even suspect the man who ate it never truly died. If he mastered it… he might have reached immortality."
"What?!" xN
Gasps erupted from the men closest to him. If what Roger said was true—if there really was someone who'd lived over eight centuries, wielding dominion over time itself—then they were facing an enemy beyond imagination. Someone nearly unbeatable.
Just how strong would his Haki be?
"Don't panic," Roger reassured them, though his gaze grew distant. "Someone will deal with him."
"Who?" Whitebeard asked.
"Rimuru's ally," Roger replied. "A man named Guy Crimson. Another Demon Lord."
.
.
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