The world of pirates Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
In the pitch-black dungeon where daylight never reached, Kael Draven sat quietly, listening to the wails echoing from nearby cells. Each cry of pain carved into his heart like a knife.
It had been less than a month since he crossed into this world. Trapped in the body of a young boy, Kael had been sold off by traffickers on Sabaody Archipelago and bought by the Celestial Dragons as a slave.
"Damn it… what kind of rotten luck is this?" he muttered to himself.
Everyone else who transmigrated got systems, cheats, or some kind of golden finger. But him? He was about to be branded with the mark of the Celestial Dragons the infamous Hoof of the Soaring Dragon.
Yeah, that'd make one hell of a souvenir.
The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, thick and nauseating. Kael's body tensed up instinctively. Even though he had endured years of hardship in his past life, this situation this helplessness was something he couldn't stay calm through.
In the neighboring cell, three girls around his age sat quietly. Compared to Kael, they looked eerily calm, as though they had already accepted their fate.
Each sister had distinct hair colors the eldest had black hair and an unmistakable aura of authority; the middle sister had green hair and a sturdy frame; while the youngest, tall and slender, had brown hair that shimmered even under the dim torchlight.
The black-haired girl glanced at him and spoke in a low, steady voice. "You're new here, right? Listen carefully. If they take you out later, no matter what happens, don't scream. Don't fight. If you make them angry, you'll wish you were dead."
Kael nodded slightly, acknowledging the advice. The girl's stern expression softened a little.
As the screams outside gradually faded, the oppressive silence lifted. The girls began talking to Kael, perhaps trying to distract themselves.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Kael Draven. And quit calling me kid. You don't look that much older than me," he replied dryly.
"Kael Draven?" The black-haired girl frowned. "What a strange name. Hard to say. I'm Boa Hancock but you can call me Big Sister Hancock, kid!"
She emphasized the word "kid" again, clearly to get under his skin. But Kael didn't rise to the bait. His mind was spinning for another reason entirely.
Boa Hancock?! The future Pirate Empress?
He looked at the young Hancock in disbelief. She was still a slave now meaning this was more than a decade before the start of the main One Piece story. By his estimation, around thirteen years before Fisher Tiger's legendary assault on Mary Geoise.
That meant escape was nearly impossible.
The Celestial Dragons' Holy Land was the most heavily guarded place in the world protected by Marines, Admirals, and the monstrous agents of CP0. The thought of running made Kael's expression darken.
The idea of being completely at the mercy of others, powerless to decide his own fate, twisted like a knife in his gut.
Just as he was about to ask Hancock for more information, footsteps echoed from the corridor heavy, deliberate, growing closer.
The jailers were coming.
It was time for his branding.
Hancock's expression tensed. "Kael, whatever happens, endure it. You must survive this."
Kael managed a strained smile.
With a loud bang, the cell door flew open. A towering man in black uniform stepped inside, his face hidden behind a dark hood. He looked like an executioner straight out of a nightmare.
Kael inhaled deeply and forced himself to appear calm, though every instinct screamed at him to run.
Without a word, the jailer grabbed him by the collar like a chicken and dragged him out of the cell.
Hancock's gaze followed them, her hands clenched tightly. She had seen this before. Many slaves had been tortured to death for the guards' amusement especially ordinary humans like Kael. Other races were "valuable," but humans? Disposable.
In the dim torture chamber, Kael was hoisted into the air. The furnace beside him burned with roaring heat. Within it, an iron brand glowed red-hot, spitting sparks.
The jailer lifted the iron with a cruel grin and approached.
Kael's eyes locked onto him feral, burning with defiance. All the fear inside him condensed into raw fury.
The jailer smirked. "I've seen that look before. None of them lasted long."
He pressed the glowing brand against Kael's chest.
The pain was immediate, blinding. His muscles seized, his entire body shaking violently as the stench of scorched flesh filled the air. But Kael didn't scream. He refused. His lips bled from how hard he bit down.
The jailer's confidence wavered as he met Kael's bloodshot eyes eyes that glowed with hatred, almost… madness. For a brief second, he felt fear. He pulled back instinctively, lowering the brand.
When he looked again, Kael had passed out.
"Tch. So much for that tough look." The jailer sneered.
But while his body lay motionless, Kael's consciousness drifted elsewhere drawn into a vast, ancient palace.
Massive stone pillars stretched toward a ceiling lost in shadow. The air was thick with the scent of age and decay. Dozens no, hundreds of thrones lined the hall, most of them broken and crumbling. Only twelve near him remained intact, two of which glowed with an ominous red light.
A lone figure sat upon one of them.
As Kael approached, the figure stood. In that moment, both of them froze eyes wide in disbelief.
They looked identical.
An overwhelming sense of familiarity surged through Kael, something beyond recognition connection. They were the same person. Two souls from the same origin.
Memories not his own flooded his mind memories of a different world, of chakra and jutsu and shinobi.
"So, there's another me… who crossed into a different world."
"Our souls must have split during transmigration," the other Kael said slowly. "This palace it must be our shared spiritual realm."
The two exchanged what they knew, piecing together the fragments of their strange existence.
"You ended up in the world of shinobi?" Kael asked, astonished.
"Yeah," the other replied with a wry smile. "But I arrived too early. Way too early. I've lost my advantage of knowing the story."
Kael gave a bitter laugh. "Same here. I arrived thirteen years before everything began. And now I'm a slave in Mary Geoise."
"At least you have a timeline," the shinobi Kael said, sighing. "I don't even know how early I am. The hidden villages haven't even been founded yet."
Kael's eyes widened. "Wait you're in the Warring States period?"
"Exactly," the other said grimly. "In that world, I'm known as Senju Kael."
For a long moment, the two stood in silence, the enormity of their situation sinking in. Two versions of the same soul, trapped in different universes both far too early for the stories they knew.
Both, it seemed, had arrived too soon.
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