The sea had never been so quiet.
No cannon fire.
No screams.
No Marines — only silence.
The Oro Jackson drifted over a quiet stretch of sea, her sails torn but proud, her hull scorched with the marks of cannon fire. Smoke still clung to the masts — the last breath of the storm that had torn heaven down.
For the first time in hours, there were no explosions, no screams — only the soft rhythm of the tide against the hull.
The storm had passed.
Heaven had fallen.
And the world above would never forget the name Nyx D. Ada.
⸻——————-
Ada stood at the prow, silent. Her dress was tattered, her hair still dusted with ash. The moon's reflection rippled against the blade she held loosely at her side, the faint hum of her Pierce-Pierce Fruit still flickering around her fingertips.
Her crew was scattered across the deck behind her — battered, bruised, but alive.
Douglas Bullet sat cross-legged beside a barrel, bandages wrapped around his knuckles, still smirking like a man who'd just fought the gods and come out breathing.
Bullet let out a low whistle. "Heh. You know, Captain, if you told me this morning we'd storm Mariejois and walk out breathing, I'd have called you crazy."
Mihawk, sitting cross-legged nearby with Yoru across his knees, replied without looking up. "She didn't promise we'd walk out breathing. She promised we'd win."
Bullet grinned. "Fair point."
Enel floated overhead, a soft hum of electricity crackling around him as he lazily drifted on a small thundercloud. "Win, lose, whatever you call that — we made a mess that's gonna echo for centuries."
"Mess?" Lilith muttered, typing rapidly into a portable den den mushi screen as she replayed fragments of the battle footage. "That 'mess' is history, Enel."
Enel lounged on a small thundercloud, hands behind his head. "You saw those admirals, right? Toasted like morning bread."
"Your lightning didn't even touch Akainu," Perona snapped, floating by with her arms crossed. "You just screamed a lot of powerful moves."
That earned a round of chuckles. Even Ada smiled faintly, her gaze still locked on the endless horizon.
⸻————-
Near the railing, Gild Tesoro crouched, staring at his own hands as if they belonged to someone else. Tiny flecks of gold shimmered across his palms, glittering in the light.
"…The hell?" he muttered, rubbing them together. Instead of wiping off, the gold spread — crawling across his skin in a thin, metallic sheen.
Lilith glanced up from a set of broken Den-Den parts. "Uh, Tesoro? You're glowing."
He turned to her, alarmed. "You think I don't see that?!"
Fisher Tiger laughed from the helm. "Guess you ate somethin' shiny, huh?"
"I thought it was just a weird fruit!" Tesoro barked. "Didn't even taste that good!"
Enel floated down from his cloud, grinning. "Another one who eats random things they find. You people never learn."
Perona snorted. "Yeah, says the man who once got electrocuted by his own reflection."
"Shut up, ghost girl!" Enel shot back, sparks crackling.
Mihawk's voice cut through the noise — calm, precise. "Gold-Gold Fruit."
Everyone turned to him.
Mihawk nodded toward Tesoro's hands. "That's what it looks like. I've read about it. A Paramecia-type — allows the user to control and manipulate gold."
Tesoro blinked. "Control it?"
Ada stepped closer, folding her arms. "Try it."
"Try what?"
"Call to it," she said. "Not with words. With intent."
He hesitated, then extended a hand toward a few scattered coins lying on the deck. They trembled — once, twice — and then shot upward, swirling into the air like fireflies. The crew stepped back as the coins merged into a molten stream, flowing around his arm like liquid light.
"Holy—" Tesoro's eyes widened. "It's listening to me."
Bullet grinned. "Looks like we found our new ship decorator."
Perona floated closer, eyes sparkling. "Do me next! I want a gold ghost house!"
Lilith rolled her eyes. "Not how it works, Perona."
Tesoro frowned, staring at the glimmering metal that moved like it was alive. "I never asked for this. I just… took the fruit from one of the burning castles at Marie Geoise. Ate it before anyone else could."
Ada's expression softened slightly. "Then maybe it chose you."
He looked up. "Chose me?"
She nodded. "Power finds the desperate. But only the strong decide what to do with it."
For a long moment, Tesoro didn't speak. The gold receded from his arm, melting back into the coins that clattered softly to the floor.
"Guess I'll have to figure out how to use it," he muttered.
"You will," Fisher Tiger said. "Every power's a tool — even the cursed ones."
"Especially the cursed ones," Ada added quietly.
Tesoro smirked, the old arrogance returning to his face. "Then maybe I'll make this ship shine again. Turn the Oro Jackson into the Golden Age reborn."
Enel stretched lazily. "As long as you don't make my cloud gold."
Perona grinned. "Or my ghosts. I don't want tacky ghosts."
Mihawk smirked faintly. "You all speak of aesthetics, not utility."
Bullet cracked his knuckles. "I speak of power. That fruit's gonna make you useful, rookie."
Tesoro arched a brow. "Useful? Please. I'm already worth more than you'll ever lift."
That got the whole deck laughing. Even Bullet grinned wider, leaning forward like a challenge. "Careful, gold boy. Keep talking and I'll see how well gold dents."
"Try it," Tesoro said coolly. "You'll break before it does."
Ada stepped between them before it escalated. "Enough. He's one of us now — even if he doesn't know the ropes yet."
Tesoro crossed his arms but didn't argue.
Lilith looked up, half-teasing. "So, officially part of the crew then?"
Ada nodded once. "He fought for freedom when he didn't have to. That's all the test I need."
Tesoro blinked, caught off guard. "…Freedom, huh?"
Ada met his gaze. "Then you're in the right place. We're all rich in the same thing — rebellion."
For a second, Tesoro didn't say anything. Then he grinned, gold teeth glinting faintly in the light. "Fine then, Captain. Guess I'll make rebellion shine."
Ada smirked. "Just don't make it tacky."
That drew another round of laughter, breaking the tension.
Fisher Tiger called from the helm, "Alright, enough noise. Let the man breathe before he turns the whole deck into treasure."
Bullet chuckled. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."
Enel shrugged. "I'd prefer silver, personally."
Perona gasped. "You have no taste."
As the crew bickered playfully, Ada turned back toward the sea, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. For a brief moment — amid the laughter and the glimmering gold — the Oro Jackson didn't feel like a warship or a legend.
It just felt alive.
And for a crew born of storms and fire, that was enough.
———————-
Hours Later
Below deck, the air was thick with the smell of medicine and seawater. Fisher Tiger sat cross-legged beside several freed slaves, wrapping their wounds with steady hands. His face was unreadable — somewhere between grief and pride.
"You're safe now," he said quietly to a trembling human boy clutching a chain collar. "The surface can burn for all I care, but you— you get to live."
The boy nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks.
Behind them, Okiku, Hiyori, and Perona tended to others. The young Kuja sisters — Hancock, Sandersonia, and Marigold — sat huddled near the wall, still trying to understand what freedom even felt like.
Perona floated above them, her ghosts carrying bandages and small plates of food. "Eat. Don't just sit there, you'll faint."
Hancock looked up slowly, her voice small but clear. "We… we don't have to go back?"
Okiku smiled softly. "No one's ever going to chain you again."
When Ada entered the cabin, the entire room seemed to straighten. Even the ghosts fell silent.
She looked over the group — the weary, the wounded, the newly freed — and her expression softened for the first time in days.
"Tiger," she said. "How are they?"
"Alive," he replied simply. "That's what matters."
"Is it true?" Marigold asked softly. "The Celestials… they're all gone?"
Fisher Tiger, sitting on a crate nearby, nodded. "Their city's ashes now. The ones still breathing won't dare show their faces for a while."
Hancock looked down at her hands — still bearing faint bruises from shackles. "Then we're… free."
Ada nodded, then turned to the corner where the three sisters sat. "You girls… you're from Amazon Lily, aren't you?"
Hancock blinked. "You know our home?"
Ada smiled faintly. "I do. I knew your former empress — Gloriosa. She and I sailed once under the same flag."
Hiyori looked up in surprise. "You knew the Pirate Empress before her time?"
Ada's eyes softened, remembering. "She was as fierce as any man on the Grand Line. Smarter too. I owe her a favor — one I plan to repay."
She then crouched down to meet Hancock's eyes. "When you're ready, I'll take you home."
The young girl stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "You'd… do that?"
Ada nodded once. "You don't owe me anything. Just live free. That's all the repayment I need."
The young Kuja blinked rapidly, fighting tears. "Th-thank you…"
Perona's ghosts sniffled exaggeratedly. "Ugh, why do you always have to make everything emotional?"
Ada smirked. "Because it works."
Even Fisher Tiger chuckled. "You haven't changed, Captain."
Behind them, Mihawk leaned against the wall. "And what of the girl's promise?" he asked. "You said you'd take those Kuja home."
Ada nodded. "We will. But not immediately. The world's watching every current, every wind. We'll wait until the sea settles."
"Good," Mihawk said, looking up at the night sky. "I could use some quiet."
"Quiet?" Bullet barked a laugh. "Don't tell me the great Mihawk's getting sentimental."
Mihawk glanced at him coolly. "Only about silence."
Perona floated by, sticking her tongue out. "You two are both impossible."
Enel laughed from the rigging. "Hey, impossible's the whole point. We're the crew that made gods bleed."
Ada's voice came low, steady. "Not gods, Enel."
They turned to her. The moonlight caught her eyes — sharp, burning, alive.
"Demons," she said. "Demons hiding as gods."
For a moment, no one spoke. Even the wind seemed to still.
Lilith finally broke the silence. "So what now, Captain? We rest? Or do we start planning round two?"
Ada looked toward the horizon — where the Red Line was nothing but a dark scar on the world's edge.
"There will be a round two," she said softly. "But not yet. The world isn't ready."
Fisher Tiger crossed his arms. "And what about us?"
Ada's gaze swept across her crew — battered, strange, broken, yet bound together by the same fire.
"You rest," she said. "Heal. Laugh. Remember what it's like to be human again — before the next storm comes."
Bullet grinned. "That's an order I can follow."
Perona twirled in the air. "Does that mean I get to haunt the others again?"
"Not the injured," Ada said without looking back.
Perona pouted. "You're no fun."
"Discipline," Mihawk murmured, sheathing Yoru. "Even ghosts need it."
Ada smiled faintly, then leaned against the railing, watching the moon ripple over the sea.
She then spoke quietly, almost to herself.
"The world thinks this is victory. But this… is only the beginning."
Lilith adjusted her camera, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "You're still going to release the footage, right?"
Ada nodded slowly. "Yes. But only the part they need to see. The rest stays hidden… for now."
"Until when?" Lilith asked.
Ada turned, her expression unreadable. "Until the next child of the sea is ready to rise."
The crew exchanged glances — none of them quite understanding, but all of them trusting her.
Fisher Tiger looked up at the stars. "That could take years."
Ada smiled faintly. "Then we wait."
The sea breeze brushed past them, carrying the scent of ash and salt — the scent of endings and beginnings.
As dawn began to break, the Oro Jackson sailed on — its tattered black flag catching the first light of morning. Beneath it, the crew gathered around a small fire on deck, sharing stolen bottles and quiet laughter.
Bullet bragged about punching an admiral through a wall. Enel mocked him for getting caught in his own lightning. Mihawk pretended not to listen while secretly smirking. Perona pestered Lilith for more snacks. Hiyori and Okiku braided each other's hair in the corner, while the Kuja sisters watched in quiet awe — trying to understand what it meant to belong somewhere again.
And through it all, Ada stood apart — watching, listening, smiling faintly.
The world was changing.
And the ghosts of the past had begun to stir.
She whispered under her breath, the words lost to the wind.
"Roger… I finally started it."
Above them, the sun rose — red as blood, bright as hope — and the Oro Jackson sailed toward its next horizon.