Our story begins on a distant, forgotten island called Sixis, lost in the endless waters of the East Blue. This patch of land, surrounded by an infinite ocean, was a place rarely touched by human feet. The island was a strange mix of life and emptiness: though its surface was covered in dense forests, not a single tree bore fruit. Only tough leaves and thorny branches, as if nature itself refused to provide sustenance to those who dared to settle here.
But the most striking feature of the landscape was the enormous mountain towering at the center of Sixis. Its slopes were riddled with countless caves—dark and mysterious, like a giant labyrinth carved by ancient forces. The wind, howling through the narrow passages, sounded like a hungry beast, and deep within the caves, strange noises sometimes echoed—whether just the wind or something else that preferred to remain unseen.
It was here, in this godforsaken place, that our heroine had lived for eighteen years.
She had no name.
No one had named her at birth, whispered a kind word, or given her anything but the cold breath of solitude. She had grown up among stones and shadows, learning to survive where even life itself seemed against her.
The girl was short, thin, but tough—years of struggle had hardened her body. Her skin, touched by sun and wind, was covered in small scars, and her tangled, long hair resembled the mane of a wild beast. Her clothes were made of tattered fabric scavenged from old skeletons—the pitiful remains of those who, like her, had once ended up on this island but failed to survive.
She didn't know how to speak. Why would she? There was no one to hear her.
The only thing that eased her loneliness was the Bird.
Enormous, three and a half times her size, it looked more like a monster than an ordinary bird. Its wings, when spread, cast a shadow over the ground, and its sharp beak could slice through a tree trunk with a single strike. The Bird's yellow, piercing eyes saw everything—every movement, every step.
Long ago, the Bird had flown here, drawn by the scent of prey. It had intended to eat the girl—small, defenseless, the perfect victim. But something went wrong.
Maybe the Bird was struck by her persistence. Maybe it saw the same hunger, the same will to live in her eyes. Or maybe it just couldn't catch her—she was too fast, too agile.
Either way, the Bird stayed. And over time, they became… not quite friends. More like strange allies.
This was supposed to be an ordinary day.
The girl woke up at dawn, as usual. She slept in one of the caves—dry and relatively safe. The Bird sat at the entrance, its massive body blocking the way, protecting her.
She stepped outside, feeling the cold stone beneath her bare feet. The wind tousled her hair, and the sun, just rising over the horizon, painted the sky pale pink.
She headed to the shore—sometimes the sea washed up something useful: pieces of wood, scraps of nets, and etc.
But today, the sea brought something greater.
First, she saw the wreckage.
Planks, torn sails, some crates—all bobbing on the waves, slowly drifting toward the shore.
And then…
A person.
Unconscious, washed ashore with the remnants of a ship.
The girl froze.
She had never seen another human before.
She crouched in the thick foliage, her fingers digging into the bark of a tree, her narrow, cautious eyes fixed on the stranger. She didn't know who he was. Didn't understand why he was here. But something inside told her—he wasn't a threat.
She watched.
The man lay on the sand, his body still trembling from the waves' assault. Water dripped from his clothes, leaving dark stains on the pale sand. Minutes passed—and then he stirred. First weakly, then more sharply, as if fighting his way out of unconsciousness.
Finally, he opened his eyes.
The first thing anyone would notice was his hat.
Bright orange, with two "Jolly Rogers"—one smiling, the other frowning, as if reflecting the duality of the world. Long threads hung from the brim, twisting into a massive bull skull medallion at his chest. Beneath it dangled an orange tassel, and around his neck—a string of red beads, like frozen drops of blood.
His jacket, simple but sturdy, reached his hips, slightly worn by the sea but still durable. A second belt, short and unfastened, bore a silver buckle with a large letter "A."
The man slowly stood up, swaying slightly. His dark, wary eyes scanned the landscape—sand, rocks, dense forest, the distant mountain.
—Where am I…?
His voice was hoarse but firm. He turned his head, as if expecting to see someone else, but there was only the wind and the sound of the surf.
Then he decided to explore the island.
He walked along the shore, his feet sinking into the sand, but he didn't stop. His gaze searched for anything familiar—traces of people, boats, signs of life. But Sixis was merciless in its solitude.
The forest greeted him with a wall of thorny branches. No fruits, no berries—just dry leaves underfoot. The caves in the mountain gaped like black maws, but he didn't venture inside—instinct warned him not to seek refuge there.
Soon, he realized:
—There's… no food.
His voice sounded hollow, almost hopeless.
And then, she appeared before him.
Silently, like a shadow slipping from the greenery.
The man flinched—he hadn't heard footsteps, hadn't seen movement. One moment he was alone, the next—the girl stood before him.
Small. Wild. Eyes like the island itself—empty and full at the same time.
—You… who are you? —he asked, stepping back slightly.
The girl didn't answer.
Instead, she held out a fish—fresh, still wet from the water.
He froze, looking from her to the offering. Then slowly took it.
—Thank you… —he muttered, then straightened and added: — Name is Ace.
His tone was polite, almost courteous, despite the circumstances.
The girl just stared.
The sun dipped toward the horizon, staining the sky crimson and violet. Long shadows stretched across the ground, as if trying to grasp the last rays of light. The air grew cooler, and the wind, once playful in the leaves, now rustled with a hint of unease.
The girl suddenly turned and made a barely perceptible gesture—part pointing, part beckoning. Then, without waiting for a response, she walked away from the shore, deeper into the island.
Ace paused.
—Hey, wait!
He hadn't expected her to just leave. But something in her movements—confident, swift—made him follow.
They moved through thick undergrowth where branches snagged at clothes and roots jutted unevenly from the ground. The girl moved effortlessly, as if she knew every stone, every twist of the path. Ace had to hurry to keep up.
—Where… are you taking me? —he asked, but of course, got no answer.
Soon, the mountain loomed ahead, its dark silhouette towering over the forest. At its base yawned the entrance to a cave—wide, almost hidden by hanging vines.
And then—
From above, with a roar that split the air, a massive creature swooped down.
Ace instinctively leaped back, his hand reaching for his belt (where he likely kept a weapon), but stopped.
The Bird.
Enormous, with wings wide enough to cast a shadow over the entire clearing. Its yellow eyes gleamed in the dim light, its beak, sharp as a blade, glinted in the dying sunlight.
But the girl didn't even flinch.
Instead, she raised her hand—and the Bird lowered its head, letting her fingers brush the stiff feathers at its neck.
Ace stared.
—You… tamed that?
The surprise in his voice was genuine.
The girl slipped inside the cave, and Ace, after a moment, followed.
Warmth.
The first thing he noticed was the temperature difference. The stone walls retained the day's heat, and deep inside, a small fire burned, its light flickering on the walls, casting strange shadows.
The space was lived-in.
In one corner—a makeshift bed woven from flexible branches and lined with leaves. Nearby—a pile of odd items: broken planks, coiled ropes, a few shells carefully arranged against the wall.
—So this… is your home? — Ace slowly turned, taking in the cave.
The girl didn't answer. She crouched by the fire, her eyes reflecting the flames.
Ace sighed, took off his hat, and ran a hand through his hair.
—Alright… Guess I got lucky you found me.
He sat down opposite her, glancing at the entrance where the Bird's massive shadow blocked part of the light.
Morning on Sixis greeted them with a cool breeze and the distant cries of seabirds. Ace woke first, his body slightly sore from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangements, but his mind already clear. He stretched, surveying the cave. The girl and her giant bird were gone—only the embers of last night's fire remained.
Stepping outside, he saw her sitting on a rock near the entrance, gazing at the sea. Her eyes were empty yet intensely focused.
Ace approached, clearing his throat to get her attention.
—Listen… — he began, catching her gaze. —Do you know if ships pass by here?
The girl stayed silent.
—Ships, — he repeated, making wave-like motions with his hands, then mimicking sails. —Big boats. People.
She only tilted her head, as if he were some strange animal making noises.
Ace sighed.
—Okay...
He searched for a flat surface—a rock, a piece of wood. Finding a suitable stone, he pulled a charred stick from the fire.
—Look. —he said, though he knew she wouldn't understand.
With the charcoal, he drew a crude ship with sails. He pointed at the drawing, then at the horizon, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
The girl froze. Her eyes narrowed, as if seeing such an image for the first time. Then she abruptly stood and gestured for him to follow.
They ventured deeper into the island, where the caves grew darker and more winding. The air was damp, smelling of old wood. The girl navigated the narrow passages effortlessly, her bare feet never missing a step.
Suddenly, the tunnel widened.
Before them lay a vast cavern, and in its center—like the skeleton of an ancient monster—were the wreckage of a ship.
—Holy… —Ace whispered.
It was a large vessel, possibly a warship—the remnants of its hull still bore traces of black paint, and among the broken planks, the outlines of cannon ports were visible.
Ace immediately began inspecting the wreckage.
—If there's anything intact here… maps, tools, —he muttered, flipping over debris.
The girl watched from a stone ledge, her bird perched beside her, its eyes glowing like coals in the dim light.
Chests. Several of them, most broken or rotted. But one, reinforced with metal, had survived.
Ace pried open the lid. Inside, among decayed fabric, lay…
A fruit.
Unusual, unlike anything he'd ever seen.
It was segmented, resembling tongues of flame woven together. The stem curled into a spiral, like a tiny whirlwind. The fruit fit in his palm, its surface smooth and warm to the touch.
—Huh… Well-preserved, —he muttered, turning it over.
He glanced back to show the girl, but she was already gone—only a faint rustle in the far tunnel betrayed her departure.
—Eh…
He tucked the fruit into his bag. I'll eat it later, he decided.
Now his mind was elsewhere.
The ship's remains.
—If I gather everything still intact… maybe I can make a raft, —he mused aloud, sorting through planks.
He set to work, selecting the sturdiest pieces. Every now and then, he glanced at the cave entrance, expecting the girl to return.
But she didn't appear.
And the fruit in his bag quietly waited its turn.
By sunset, Ace had finished his "creation." He leaned back, wiping sweat from his brow, and proudly surveyed his hours of labor.
— There, seaworthy enough. — he muttered, though his "ship" more closely resembled a pile of boards lashed together with a crooked sail made of rags.
He nudged it with his foot—it creaked but held.
—Perfect.
Ace turned. The cave where he'd spent the night now seemed as distant as the rest of this strange island. The girl had vanished right after leading him to the wreckage, and even her giant bird, usually watching from above, was nowhere to be seen.
—Shame I didn't say goodbye, —he sighed, then waved it off. —Ah well, time to go.
He grabbed the rope tied to the "ship's" bow and dragged it toward the water.
The shore was empty, only waves lazily lapping the sand. Ace was about to push his vessel into the water when suddenly…
—You're seriously planning to sail on that?
The voice was sharp, laced with disdain.
Ace spun around.
On a rock a few paces away sat a stranger.
Deuce
A man in a mask.
A lean, almost predatory figure. Hair sharp as blades. A long coat, open to reveal a thin but wiry chest. A diagonal belt, strange pink patterns on his pants. And most striking—a dark mask covering his eyes but not hiding the cold smirk on his lips.
Beside him, legs crossed on the sand, sat her—the girl from the island. Her usually empty eyes now watched Ace with curiosity.
—Oh! —Ace grinned as if meeting old friends. —You two met!
Deuce scoffed.
—She doesn't say anything. Just sits and stares.
—Yeah, that's her, —Ace nodded, as if this were perfectly normal.
Ace reached into his bag.
—By the way, found something interesting. Wanna try?
He pulled out the strange fruit—the one with flame-like segments. He split it into three and held out the pieces:
—Here.
The girl took hers cautiously, as if handed something fragile. Deuce just raised an eyebrow but accepted it.
—What even is this? —he grumbled.
—No idea, —Ace admitted. —But looks tasty.
And he took the first bite.
At first, nothing.
Then—warmth.
Then—fire.
—W-what the… —Ace clutched his head.
His hair… no, not just his hair—his entire head suddenly burst into bright flames. The fire licked his face but… didn't burn.
Deuce leaped back.
—Did you just eat a Devil Fruit?!
Ace touched himself in disbelief. The fire was part of him.
—Guess… so?
Deuce cursed.
—Idiot. You didn't even know what you were eating?
Ace laughed, his head blazing like a torch in the dark.
—Now I do!
Deuce sighed, looked back at Ace's ship, and crossed his arms, the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betraying a suppressed sneer.
—And you call this a ship? —He kicked the rickety construction, and a plank snapped off. —This isn't even a raft.
Ace just laughed, scratching the back of his head where embers still smoldered.
—Eh, good enough for starters!
—Start of what? Your suicide? —Deuce sighed, but then his gaze lingered on the fiery aura still flickering around Ace. His masked eyes narrowed. —Though…
—You've got Devil Fruit power now, —Deuce muttered, circling the "ship" like an engineer assessing a hopeless project. —Fire… that's pure energy.
Ace raised an eyebrow:
—And?
—And we can use it, —Deuce turned sharply. —You don't just wanna drift like a log, do you?
—Well, I was gonna use the sail…
—The sail?! —Deuce rolled his eyes so hard it was visible through the mask. —We're making an engine.
The girl, who'd been silently watching, suddenly stood and headed for the cliffs.
—Hey, where's she going? —Ace wondered.
—No idea, don't care. —Deuce grumbled, already breaking old planks and stripping bark.
But soon, she returned—dragging a massive stone fragment, once the bow of the ship. Despite her frail appearance, she handled the weight effortlessly, as if it were a twig.
—Whoa… —Ace whistled, impressed.
—Alright, that's useful, —Deuce admitted, inspecting the stone. —Shape's perfect.
Work began in earnest.
Deuce, surprisingly, was a skilled engineer—his long fingers deftly tied planks, reinforced the frame, and fitted parts. Ace, with his fiery power, burned holes and fused metal fastenings. Xiao wordlessly brought whatever they needed—vines for ropes, scraps of canvas, even resin for sealing.
By sunset, their creation was complete.
The "Striker"—a crescent-shaped boat with a streamlined stone prow to cut through waves like a blade. At the stern, an improvised engine: two small paddlewheels, meant to spin from Ace's flames directed into a chamber.
—Looks ridiculous... and yet, I like it! —Deuce muttered, but pride tinged his voice.
—Looks amazing! —Ace beamed, glowing like his own head when his powers first ignited.
A small passenger space sat in the center, and behind it—a tiny sail, more for show than function.
While waiting for the resin to dry, the trio settled by the fire (which Ace lit with a snap).
—Y'know, I've got a brother, —Ace said suddenly, watching the flames. —Luffy. He ate a Devil Fruit too — now he's, like, rubber.
Deuce snorted:
—Sounds even dumber than your flaming head.
—He wants to be King of the Pirates, —Ace continued, ignoring the jab.
—They all do, —Deuce grumbled, but then added unexpectedly: —I set sail just… to see what's beyond the horizon.
The girl, sitting between them, just looked from one to the other, as if trying to understand their words.
At dawn, they launched the "Striker" into the water.
—Well then, —Ace stood at the stern, ready to direct flames into the engine. —Let's go?
Deuce just nodded, settling in. Xiao, to their surprise, jumped aboard—her Bird screeched and took to the skies, following them.
Fire shot into the chamber, the wheels spun, and the "Striker" surged forward, leaving a sparkling wake.
Sixis faded behind them.
Ahead lay the sea.
And endless possibilities.