The fire over Grey Terminal was supposed to burn everything that didn't belong — the poor, the forgotten, the trash of the Goa Kingdom.
But the flames were not spreading as they should.
From the forest ridge above the inferno, Ada stood silently, her cloak fluttering against the gusts that began to twist through the valley. The air was thick with smoke and ash, yet the wind was changing direction — unnatural, purposeful.
She narrowed her eyes. That wind… it's familiar.
The sea breeze from the coast shifted suddenly into a roaring gale. The tongues of flame bent backward, choked by a wall of air that swept in from the west. The fire that should have consumed the entire terminal began to die, snuffed out by bursts of controlled gusts.
From within the smoke, silhouettes appeared — tall, cloaked figures carrying the weak and wounded away from the ruins.
Banners marked with a simple symbol — R.A — fluttered on their backs.
Ada's expression softened, a small, knowing smile touching her lips.
She murmured. "So you're here too, Dragon."
A deeper shape moved at the center of the group — a man with a calm but commanding presence, his cloak shifting like a shadow in the wind.
Even before he stepped fully into view, Ada knew that aura.
Dragon.
The Revolutionaries were moving fast.
Orders cut through the noise — quick, disciplined, efficient. Men and women guided survivors toward the waiting ships at the edge of the bay.
Beside Dragon walked Kuma, his massive frame carrying two unconscious children like they weighed nothing, and Ivankov, whose massive head and striking blue hair were unmistakable even in the dark.
Ada pulled her hood lower and descended quietly, heels sinking into the ash. She passed bodies, burned-out carts, and the smell of ruin. But there was also life — the sound of commands being shouted with purpose, not panic.
"Get the injured to the second ship!"
"Keep the path clear!"
"Watch for soldiers — we move in five!"
When Ada stepped out of the smoke, the nearby soldiers froze. Rifles were raised, blades drawn. They didn't recognize her, but her aura made their instincts scream danger.
"What the hell—!?" one soldier gasped, stumbling back.
"Who is she?!" another hissed. "Her presence— it's suffocating!"
But Dragon didn't flinch. He lifted one hand. "Stand down."
The soldiers hesitated.
Ivankov blinked once, then her huge eyes went wide. "Nyx D. Ada!?" she gasped, voice carrying over the crackle of dying flames. "Ohhh, sweet mama of miracles — what are you doin' here, darling?! You're supposed to be in the New World, not waltzing around here in the East Blue like a goddess from hell!"
Ada tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me, Ivankov."
"I am happy, darling — but the Marines won't be when they find out!" Ivankov threw her hands dramatically into the air. "If they catch even a whiff of your perfume here, the whole world will go ka-boom!"
Kuma's voice came out low and metallic. "Calm yourself. She wouldn't be here without reason."
Ada's hood dipped in acknowledgment. "You always were the sensible one, Kuma."
The Revolutionary soldiers exchanged nervous glances. None of them knew who she was — only that she had just walked through a wall of fire without fear, and Dragon himself hadn't drawn a weapon.
Dragon finally spoke, voice low and steady. "She's with me."
That was all he said.
And that was all it took.
The soldiers hesitated a moment longer before lowering their weapons, confused but obedient. They hurried off to continue the evacuation.
Ivankov crossed her arms and muttered under her breath. "The poor kids won't sleep for a week after feeling your aura, darling. You really do know how to make an entrance."
Ada chuckled softly. "Old habits die hard."
When the last civilians were carried out of the burning slums, Dragon turned toward her. "Walk with me."
They moved together through the scorched path, past the dying embers.
For a while, neither spoke.
Finally, Ada broke the silence. "You always did arrive when the world was falling apart."
Dragon's expression didn't change, but his tone carried the faintest humor. "And you always seem to be standing in the middle of it."
She smiled faintly, the firelight painting gold along her jawline. "Someone has to make sure it doesn't burn too long."
They stopped near the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. From here, they could see the Revolutionary ships below — dozens of rescued villagers being loaded onto boats, the flames dying behind them.
Dragon stood beside her, arms crossed, cloak rippling.
Ada tilted her head toward him. "How long have you been operating here?"
"Long enough to know this kingdom's rot runs deeper than its nobles," he said quietly. "The fire was meant to erase the poor — make it look like an accident. But we were already here."
Ada looked at him — really looked. The determination in his eyes hadn't changed since the day they'd met. It burned quietly, like the heart of a storm.
"You always were drawn to impossible causes," she murmured.
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Says the woman who declared war on the World Nobles and burned Marie Geoise."
That earned a low laugh from her. "Fair point."
The smoke thinned around them. The fire's fury was gone, replaced by the soft murmur of the sea. Ada's voice fell into a hush.
"I saw him, Dragon."
He turned his head slightly. "Luffy?"
She nodded. "He's alive. Loud. Reckless. Stubborn. But… his eyes."
Her tone softened, like a breeze over water. "They're yours."
For a long moment, Dragon said nothing. Then his hand lifted slightly, brushing soot from her shoulder. "Did he see you?"
"A glimpse," she admitted. "He fainted before he could ask questions."
A quiet hum from him. "Maybe that's for the best."
Ada leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "I wanted to tell him. But… it's not time yet."
Dragon's voice was almost a whisper. "He'll find his own path. Just like we did."
She smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded. "I know. Still… it's hard not to reach out."
The silence that followed was gentle — not cold, not heavy. It was the silence of two people who had long since stopped needing words to understand each other.
"You've changed," Dragon said finally.
Ada chuckled softly. "Motherhood tends to do that."
He exhaled — almost a laugh. "And here I thought nothing could."
Ada lifted her gaze toward him, smirking. "Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not," he said simply. "I'm proud."
———————-
By dawn, the fire at Grey Terminal was nothing but smoke and ash. The surviving villagers were safe aboard the Revolutionaries' transport ship anchored at the far edge of the bay.
Inside the ship's medical ward, doctors and medics moved rapidly, treating burns and injuries. The air smelled of antiseptic and exhaustion.
Ada followed Dragon through the rows of beds, silent and observant. Kuma stood at the far wall, massive arms folded, while Ivankov fussed over a group of children with his usual flair.
Dragon stopped beside one of the cots. "He was the last we pulled from the wreck," he said quietly.
Ada's gaze followed his.
A young boy lay unconscious, his face bandaged, blonde hair matted with soot. His breathing was shallow but steady.
Ada's eyes widened slightly. "Sabo."
Dragon turned to her. "You know him?"
Ada stepped closer, brushing ash from the boy's sleeve and whispered to Dragon. "He was with Luffy and Ace. They called themselves brothers."
Dragon's eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "Brothers?"
"Yes." Ada's voice softened. "Not by blood, but by will. They drank sake and made promises only children could keep."
Dragon's voice was quiet. "He doesn't remember anything. The trauma — the blast from the ship that tried to kill him — took his memory."
Ada frowned softly, studying the boy's face. "Then it's good he's with you. He'll find a new path here."
Dragon crossed his arms. "You think he'll remember?"
Ada smiled faintly. "Someday. Those kinds of bonds don't disappear."
She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Sabo's forehead, her expression turning warm and distant. "He'll find his brothers again, when the time is right."
—————-
Later, as the Revolutionaries made final preparations to leave, Ada stood on the deck beside Dragon, watching the faint light of dawn rise over the smoke-stained horizon.
Ivankov fluttered nearby, still exasperated. "I still can't believe you Ada! Sneakin' into the East Blue like a thief in the night! If the Marines find out the two of you are together again — hoo! — the world will implode!"
Ada smirked. "Relax, Ivankov. I came quietly."
Ivankov's jaw dropped. "Quietly!? You walked through a wall of fire like it was a summer breeze! That's not 'quiet' at all!"
Kuma rumbled lowly, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. "It was effective."
"Effective, yes," Ivankov huffed, throwing her hands up. "But now the soldiers are whisperin' about some goddess of death followin' Dragon around, and I have to clean up the rumors!"
Ada chuckled. "Tell them she's just passing through."
Dragon gave her a sidelong glance. "Are you?"
She looked at him for a moment before answering. "I have to go back soon. My crew's waiting."
He nodded. "The New World's moving fast. The Marines won't ignore Mihawk's new position for long."
Ada's eyes flickered with amusement. "I trust him to keep things interesting."
Then her tone softened. "But before I go… thank you, Dragon. For saving those people. For saving him."
He looked out toward the sea. "You'd have done the same."
"Maybe," she murmured, "but I doubt I'd have done it as cleanly."
The two stood side by side, the wind between them steady and warm.
Finally, Dragon said quietly, "Will you come back?"
Ada turned toward him, her expression unreadable. "You know me, Dragon. I don't stay where I'm expected."
He smiled faintly. "Then maybe I'll start expecting the unexpected."
Ada's laugh was soft, almost tender. "That's cheating."
When the Revolutionary ship reached open waters, Ada stood at the stern beside a small rowboat. Her hood was up again, her expression calm.
Dragon stood a few steps away. "The world's shifting," he said. "The balance can't last much longer."
Ada nodded. "Then let's make sure it breaks the right way."
He hesitated for just a moment. "Be careful, Ada."
She smiled, stepping into the small craft. "Always am."
Ivankov leaned over the railing, waving dramatically. "Next time, send a letter, darling! My heart can't handle the shock!"
Ada grinned back. "No promises."
Kuma's deep voice carried after her. "Safe travels."
The ropes were released, and the small boat drifted away.
Dragon watched silently as her figure faded into the mist. The wind picked up again, carrying the scent of ash and sea salt.
Ivankov sighed beside him. "She's somethin' else, huh?"
Dragon's gaze stayed on the horizon. "She always has been."
Kuma rumbled low. "And she always will be."
The ship turned north, the rising sun glinting off the water.
And somewhere ahead, Ada sailed alone across the calm East Blue, her heart heavy but full.
She looked once toward Dawn Island, where three boys once swore to be brothers, and whispered to the wind.
"Grow strong, my son. The world's waiting for you."
Then she turned the rudder eastward, toward the open sea — and the waiting shadow of the Oro Jackson.