Aching joints... That stubborn pain deep in my lungs with every breath... And that emptiness. Portgas D. Ace. My son. Shanks' warning echoes in my ears: "Chasing after that boy will set the world ablaze." But can a father abandon his son to the gears of fate? *Gurararara!* Even my laugh isn't the same; hollow, filled with anxiety. I was on the captain's deck of the Moby Dick, staring out at the endless sea of the New World, these thoughts gnawing at me. I miss Ace's fiery warmth, his rebellious grin. Saving him... If I were at my peak, I wouldn't hesitate. But now? Me, the "World's Strongest Man," fighting the betrayal of my own body.
Then... a flash. The blink of an eye. But this was unlike anything I knew.
For an instant, I found myself in an unfamiliar place, in strange clothes, with a mind filled with strange thoughts. Cartoons moved on screens – *me*, my sons, Ace... The execution platform. Marineford. My death. My helplessness. Was this... a dream? Or someone else's memories? The passion, the despair, the *"If only he were in his Prime!"* sigh of a "fan"... This foreign consciousness seemed to fuse with mine. An explosion happened. In my mind, my body, my soul.
When I opened my eyes, I was still in the Moby Dick's deckhouse. But everything... was *different*.
First, silence. The familiar creaks of the ship, the slap of waves against the hull, the distant murmur of the crew... All gone. As if the world held its breath. Then, a wave of energy. A kind I'd never felt before. Surging from within me, from every cell – pure, uncontrollable might. My cloak disintegrated and scattered around my elbows. Beneath my skin, the forgotten power of youth boiled like a volcano. My muscles expanded, tightening, shedding years of weariness; the pain in my bones replaced by an almost uncomfortable solidity. My lungs drew a deep, resonant breath; no congestion, no cough. Just pure, invigorating air.
"What... what is this?" I murmured, my voice familiar but emerging with a forgotten depth, a resonance. I flexed my fingers. Muscle fibers tensed like iron cables. I bent my elbows. Joints worked silently and flawlessly like a new machine. I stood up – my rise was a single fluid motion, as it once was. I looked around. The world shone with sharpened detail, vivid colors. I could feel the faintest breeze, the finest grain of sea salt.
And my mind... That foreign consciousness was now an inseparable part of me. All that "fan's" knowledge of the One Piece world, all their passion, all their fears were mine. I *knew* Ace's fate, the catastrophe at Marineford, the fall of my sons, the World Government's schemes. And that consciousness brought another gift: *Prime*.
I understood instinctively. This wasn't a Devil Fruit power. This... was a divine intervention, a paradigm shift. I could bring myself instantly to my "highest potential." As I was now. And not just myself. *Anyone* I chose. The only limit was that person's own inherent potential. And this upgrade... was permanent. A door swung open forever.
"Gurarararara!" This time, the laughter rose from the depths of my chest, a true thunderclap that shook the ship and made the sea tremble. The windows rattled. "Now I understand! Now I see!"
The door burst open. Marco stood there, face a mixture of concern and shock. "Oyaji! Are you alright? Felt like an explosion, the whole ship shook and..." His words froze. His eyes were fixed on me, on my *changed* state. The tattered remnants of my cloak, my bare, massive, muscular torso, but most of all, the expression on my face – the wisdom of age overlaid with the unmistakable power and irrepressible joy of youth. "O-Oyaji? You... you look different? Your voice... Your power..."
"Marco!" I boomed, unable to suppress the fervor in my voice. "My son! Come in and close the door!"
Marco, bewildered, obeyed, unable to take his eyes off me. As he approached, he saw the difference more clearly: the tautness of my skin, the spark in my eyes, the almost visible energy field around me. "What is this? Some new Devil Fruit power? Or..."
"No, Marco," I cut him off, stepping forward and placing my giant hand on his shoulder. At the touch, I felt that cosmic energy flow within me again. I *saw* Marco's potential – beyond Yonko level, the true, boundless power of the legendary phoenix. "This is a gift. An unexpected, magnificent gift. And you, my first son, will share it."
"Share it? What...?" Marco's question caught in his throat.
I told him about Ace's capture, the Marineford threat, Shanks' warning, the *fate* I knew. His face darkened first with shock, then anger, and deep worry. "Ace... We have to save him, Oyaji! But your power..."
"*My power* is no longer the issue, Marco," I smiled, a spark igniting in my eyes. "Nor will yours be. Ready? This... might be intense."
Marco looked into my eyes. Years of loyalty, trust, erased any trace of hesitation. He nodded sharply. "Always, Oyaji."
"Gurarara! Then... *REACH PRIME!*"
It was like pressing a cosmic button within me. I focused on Marco, visualizing his highest potential. A beam of energy shot from my chest, piercing straight into his heart. Marco's eyes widened for a moment, his mouth silently agape. Then, a whirlwind erupted.
*Vuuuuum!*
Blue flames – of an intensity never seen before, like a sapphire furnace – engulfed him instantly. The air in the deckhouse trembled with a powerful shockwave. Marco's body lifted into the air, arms spread wide, head thrown back, a silent scream escaping his lips. His wings – no longer just blue flames, but massive wings woven from solid, shimmering pure energy – exploded from his back, licking the deckhouse ceiling. Their feathers seemed studded with crystals glittering like stardust. His eyes, lost in frilled blue flames, were replaced by pure, electric blue light. The air around him shimmered and warped with the intensity of the heat.
It lasted seconds. Then, the energy explosion imploded, sucked back into Marco's body. He landed lightly back on his feet, wings giving a soft flap. The flames vanished, but now a blue glow pulsed beneath his skin, in his muscles, even in the air he breathed. His eyes opened. They held not just wisdom and loyalty, but an overwhelming *power*, a glint of divinity. He looked at his hands in disbelief, then back at me. His eyes held the pure wonder of a child flying for the first time and immense gratitude. "Ace... They stand no chance now, do they Oyaji?" he whispered, his voice carrying a newfound confidence, a new anger.
"*None*," I confirmed, my voice steel-edged. "But Ace is just the beginning. This world... this world of injustice... will change. And we, the Whitebeard Pirates, will change it. All my sons will attain the power they deserve. We are a family. And family... protects its own."
A smile of determination spread across Marco's face. His blue eyes blazed with the same intensity as his blue phoenix flames. "Where do we start?"
"First," I said, turning towards the Moby Dick's deck, "let's inform the other captains of this... *development*. Vista, Jozu, Izo... I swore before Thatch's ghost, we will not lose Ace. I will lose *no* more sons now."
I stepped out of the captain's deckhouse. My footsteps, lighter yet more powerful than before, echoed on the deck. Marco was at my right, seeming not to walk, but to *glide* with his new energy. The crew working on deck bowed their heads at first in habitual respect. Then, they looked up.
Movement stopped. All sound ceased. Shock, disbelief, and pure awe appeared on their faces. They saw me: the wisdom of the old Oyaji, but the physical majesty of my Prime and the overwhelming presence of my unleashed power. And Marco... The Marco beside me shone like the resurrection of a legend. "MY SONS!" I roared, my voice echoing in every eardrum, every heart, reaching every corner of the ship, perhaps even the ocean, without any amplifier. "LISTEN AND BE AMAZED! THE TIMES HAVE CHANGED! FATE HAS BEEN SHATTERED!"
All eyes were fixed on me. Fear for Ace mingled with a new hope. The sky of the New World seemed to shine brighter, witnessing the dawn of a Golden Age.