Enrai Island, normally serene, seemed to hold its breath.
Not a gust moved. Not a leaf fluttered.
Even the ocean, which usually crashed playfully against the cliffs, had gone quiet—as if the entire world was holding a sacred pause.
And in the heart of this stillness sat a two-year-old boy with silver eyes that seemed to reflect the sky. Allen D. Walker.
His tiny hands gripped a stone he had smoothed against the ground, but his gaze wasn't on it. He was staring at the sky—quiet, focused, unnervingly still for a child his age.
Like he was listening.
Not to a sound, but to a memory that hadn't happened yet.
A pulse ran through the earth beneath him, subtle and deep, like a beast rolling in its sleep far below.
---
A short distance away, Serena stood in the garden, humming a lullaby as she watered her lotus plants. She was thinking of dinner, of Allen's favorite fruit pastries, when her Haki snapped awake—sharp and mother-deep.
Her breath caught. Her hands froze.
That wasn't danger.
It was... change.
She turned slowly toward her son.
Allen hadn't moved. But his aura had shifted—only slightly, like a candle flame flickering—but to her, it was unmistakable.
She dropped the watering pot and ran.
---
Far beneath the island, buried under ancient stone and rootwork older than civilization, something old stirred.
Encased in a jagged prison of amber and obsidian veins, a single object pulsed once—white, then gold.
The shape of a fruit.
Not a known fruit. Not cataloged, not passed down, not traded on the black market or whispered of in pirate dens. No books spoke of it.
Because it was the first.
The one that came before names.
Not born. Not created.
Formed.
In the breath between light and darkness, in the moment the One Piece world was still shaping itself, this fruit was woven into the fabric of existence like a final stroke of divine ink.
It had waited through eons. Waited as the first humans rose, as pirates sailed, as gods fell and devils climbed into thrones.
Waited for him.
---
Allen blinked.
A shimmer passed over his eyes like light on still water. His hand dropped the stone. His heartbeat slowed.
He didn't understand it. He couldn't explain it. But something was inside him now—a rhythm he hadn't noticed until this moment.
It didn't speak in words.
It pulled.
It remembered.
A flash: black wings above golden cities.
A broken sword in a child's hand.
A throne of light. Empty.
---
Serena reached him, panting, eyes wide. "Allen?"
He turned slowly, his head tilted, like he'd woken from a dream inside a dream.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Her breath hitched. He had spoken—in full, clear words. Not babyish, not murmured. His voice was calm, curious, far too mature.
"I... what did you hear?" she asked, kneeling, cupping his cheeks.
He blinked again. "Nothing. But it felt like a heartbeat. Like... something big is underneath us."
Her stomach sank.
Hades appeared behind them without a sound. His face was hard, but his eyes betrayed it—he'd felt the same tremor. His Observation Haki had gone white-hot for a second.
"I felt it too," he muttered. "Like something blinked beneath the world."
Serena looked to him, then back to her son.
He wasn't glowing. He wasn't floating. He was just sitting.
But something inside him had shifted forever.
---
That night, Allen didn't sleep.
He lay in bed beside his little sister, Aira, who had fallen asleep mid-laughter after a pillow fight with him. Her chubby hand still clutched a corner of his shirt.
Allen didn't move. He watched the ceiling.
The visions kept coming. Not memories of his past life—those were locked in a quiet room in his mind.
These were older.
A figure with six wings—half light, half scorched shadow—standing before a gate of stone and flame.
A voice, like a cracked bell in the sky:
> "You were not chosen.
You were born."
He felt sweat on his forehead.
Not fear.
Awe.
---
Back beneath the ground, cracks spread across the amber casing of the fruit.
White fire spiraled through ancient symbols along its surface. Glyphs no human could read now lit the stone walls.
And one whispered word, old as creation, echoed into the soil:
> "Allen."
---
Somewhere far beyond Enrai Island, in a land untouched by chart or current, a figure cloaked in celestial white looked up.
His eyes narrowed.
He had felt that pulse.
"The First Breath..." he whispered. "It has begun."
Another voice—low, hollow, and vibrating like a drum—spoke from behind a curtain.
"You said it would never return."
The white figure smirked. "I said it would wait. And it did."
He looked down at a map scorched into the bones of a sea king's skull. At the center: a sketch of a fruit with twelve wings behind it—six of light, six of dusk.
---
Meanwhile, on Enrai Island…
Serena stood on the veranda, arms crossed, looking at the stars. Hades joined her, two mugs of hot sake in hand.
"He's changing," she said softly.
Hades didn't answer immediately. He handed her the cup.
"He's still our boy," he said. "But yes... something old is waking inside him."
Serena took a slow sip. "I don't want him to lose his childhood. I want him to laugh. To play with Aira. To steal fruit from the pantry and lie about it badly."
"He'll do all that," Hades said. "But don't forget who we are."
She closed her eyes.
They were monsters once.
And their son was something beyond even that.
---
Back in their room, Aira turned in her sleep, letting out a little snort and hugging Allen's side tighter.
He smiled faintly.
And then, in the final second before sleep claimed him, his breath slowed.
And the Devil Fruit far below the earth exhaled.
---
The air shimmered faintly over the cliffs.
On a flat ledge, high above the sea, a stone tablet flickered into existence—one that hadn't been seen in centuries. Its words glowed dimly:
> "When the First Fruit awakens,
The world shall fracture.
And the heavens shall kneel."
---
Somewhere far away, a crow made of shadows burst into flame.
---
And Allen?
He dreamed again.
Of himself, older—standing on a battlefield of clouds.
His back turned to the world. No wings. No sword.
Just presence.
The kind that made gods falter.
---
To be continued in Chapter 10: "The Fruit and the Flag"
---
Let's GOOOO 🔥