Noise.
Too loud.
Too much.
He couldn't breathe—
"Don't look back!"
A woman's voice. Shaking. Breaking.
He was looking back.
Fire swallowed the sky.
Screams—high, sharp, endless.
Gunshots cracked like thunder.
The ground trembled with every distant impact.
"What—what is this—?!"
His voice came out small.
Wrong.
Not his voice.
Not his body.
His vision bounced violently—up, down, up—arms wrapped around him, tight, desperate.
He was being carried.
Running.
No—fleeing.
"Please—please—just a little further—"
The woman holding him stumbled.
Barefoot. Bleeding.
Her grip tightened like if she let go, the world would end.
"Mum—?"
The word slipped out.
He froze.
Mum?
No.
No no no no—
Another explosion.
Closer.
Heat washed over them.
The woman screamed—but didn't stop.
"Don't look! Don't look back!"
Too late.
He looked.
And saw him.
A man standing in the distance—
No.
Not standing.
Dominating.
The battlefield bent around him.
Men—strong men—were rushing him.
Pirates. Marines.
Doesn't matter.
They were nothing.
He moved—
And the world broke.
Bodies flew.
The ground cracked.
Someone screamed his name—
"ROCKS—!!"
His heart stopped.
No.
No way.
That name—
Rocks D. Xebec
"…No."
His voice shook.
"…no, that's not—"
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't a memory.
This—
This was One Piece.
His breathing hitched.
Fast.
Too fast.
"I'm dreaming—I'm dreaming—I'm dreaming—"
He wasn't.
He knew he wasn't.
Because dreams don't feel like this.
Hot.
Loud.
Real.
Another scream tore through the air.
The woman stumbled again—harder this time.
They hit the ground.
Pain shot through his body.
Small.
Weak.
Useless.
"Get up—get up—please—!"
She was crying now.
Hands shaking as she tried to pull him back up—
A shadow fell over them.
Heavy.
Cold.
Wrong.
He didn't want to look.
Every instinct screamed not to.
He looked anyway.
Rocks stood there.
Up close—
Worse.
Far worse.
Not just strong.
Not just dangerous.
Unnatural.
His eyes landed on them.
No hesitation.
No recognition.
No warmth.
Just intent.
"Move."
The word wasn't loud.
But it crushed everything around it.
The woman froze.
"…please…"
Her voice broke completely.
"…he's your son—"
Silence.
Takaba's mind shattered.
Son?
Rocks' gaze didn't change.
Not even a flicker.
"Then he'll survive."
He moved.
The woman screamed and grabbed Takaba—turning, running, body pushed past its limit—
"WAIT—!"
Takaba didn't know why he shouted.
Didn't know what he expected.
Behind them—
Impact.
The ground exploded.
They were thrown forward.
Hard.
Everything spun.
Sound warped.
He couldn't think.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't—
[System Activated]
Everything… slowed.
Not the world.
His mind.
"…what?"
[Host Identified]
[Objective: Ascension]
"…No—no, not now—what is this—?!"
[Stabilizing Cognitive State]
His breathing slowed.
Not naturally.
Forced.
Artificial calm.
The panic didn't disappear.
But it… organized.
Thoughts stopped colliding.
Started lining up.
"…System?"
[Affirmative]
"…I died."
Not a question.
A statement.
Flat.
Images flashed—
A room.
A screen.
Endless scrolling.
Unfinished life.
"…and now I'm here."
[Correct]
His eyes lifted.
The battlefield snapped back into focus.
Still chaos.
Still death.
Still impossible.
But now—
He was thinking.
"…Teach."
The name came to him.
Heavy.
Wrong.
Marshall D. Teach
His body.
His life.
"…and him…"
His gaze flicked back—
Just in time to see Rocks D. Xebec tearing through another group like they didn't exist.
"…that's my father?"
[Confirmed]
Silence.
Then—
A shaky laugh.
"…that's insane."
Another explosion.
Closer.
People running past them now—slaves, soldiers, pirates—
No one cared.
No one stopped.
Good.
"…Okay."
His voice steadied.
Barely.
"…okay, think…"
He looked at his hands again.
Small.
Weak.
Looked at the battlefield.
Monsters.
Looked at Rocks.
A force of nature.
"…I can't fight."
Obvious.
Pathetic.
True.
"…I can't stay."
Even more obvious.
"…so I survive."
Simple.
Clear.
Correct.
[Logical Conclusion]
"…shut up."
But he didn't reject it.
Because it was right.
Elsewhere — God Valley
"Move! Move! Get them out of here!"
A young man's voice cut through the chaos.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Monkey D. Dragon moved through the burning streets, grabbing civilians, pulling them away from collapsing structures.
Children.
Families.
Slaves.
Didn't matter.
If they could move, he moved them.
If they couldn't—
He carried them.
"Don't stop!" he shouted. "Head for the ships—now!"
Another blast shook the island.
Stronger.
Heavier.
He looked up.
And saw them.
Two figures standing against the storm.
Facing something worse.
Gol D. Roger
And
Monkey D. Garp
And between them—
Rocks.
Even from this distance—
The pressure was suffocating.
"…monsters," Dragon muttered.
But his hands didn't stop moving.
Didn't stop saving.
Because that's what mattered.
Not legends.
Not battles.
People.
Back to Takaba
"…Roger… Garp…"
He whispered the names like they might stabilize reality.
They didn't.
Nothing did.
But something else did.
Understanding.
Not of the world.
Not yet.
But of one thing.
This wasn't his story.
Not right now.
This was theirs.
And if he stepped in—
He'd be erased.
"…so I watch."
His eyes sharpened.
Just slightly.
"…and I learn."
Behind him—
His mother struggled to stand again.
Bleeding.
Shaking.
Still trying.
Takaba looked at her.
Really looked.
Not a character.
Not background.
A person.
"…we move," he said quietly.
Not panicking now.
Not frozen.
Still afraid.
Still overwhelmed.
But thinking.
And in a world ruled by monsters—
That was the only thing that might keep him alive.