The tavern door creaked loudly as Adam pushed it open.
Warm light spilled onto the wooden dock outside before the door swung shut behind him, muting the laughter and sea shanties back into a muffled sound.
The night air hit him differently now.
He stood still for a moment,
Ships rocked gently along the piers. Massive hulls creaked. Sailcloth fluttered overhead. Lanterns swayed in soft arcs, And above it all
Gigantic mangrove trees around the island.
Adam's breath caught.
They weren't just trees.
They were colossal. Towering pillars of living mix of wood and greenery rising impossibly high, their roots twisted into the ground.
And from their bark,
Bubbles.
Transparent spheres drifted lazily upward, reflecting light in rainbow hues before floating off toward the sky.
His pulse began to pound.
The streets beyond the harbor were bustling despite the hour.
Merchants pushing carts.
Marines in patrol groups.
Shady figures in long coats whispering in alley corners.
A pirate crew arguing over supplies near a bubble-coated ship.
Adam's red eyes scanned everything.
Too much, Too familiar.
"I know this world far too well…" he murmured.
His gaze slowly lifted to one of the massive mangrove trunks nearest him.
Carved into a metal plaque bolted onto the bark were bold letters.
'GROVE 27.'
Adam's stomach dropped.
"No way…"
The name formed on his lips before he could stop it.
"I am in Sabaody Archipelago…"
As soon as he said it,
Something snapped inside his skull.
A sharp, violent pain stabbed behind his eyes.
He staggered backward.
"Ah!"
The world tilted.
He grabbed his head, fingers digging into his red hair.
It felt like something was forcing itself into place. Memories.
Not his. Not from his own reality.
Flashes tore through his mind.
Cannons firing.
The sky above Marineford split by monstrous attacks.
The ocean frozen solid in an instant.
A towering man with a white mustache roaring while the world itself was breaking around him.
And Screams, lots of screams.
Smoke and blood.
Marines charging, marines retreating, Marines executing wounded pirates who were already defeated.
A battlefield soaked red. And so much death.
Adam dropped to one knee.
"I… I remember it all now."
The headache pulsed one last time before settling into a dull ache.
And with it, complete clarity.
He wasn't just an isekai outsider anymore, he had lived here. he had stood on that battlefield.
The summit war of Marineford.
He had been eighteen back then.
Just eighteen.
A recruit thrown into the greatest war of the era because they needed everyone capable there.
He remembered gripping his rifle with shaking hands as men who could split the sky clashed above him.
He remembered watching fellow Marines cheering after victory,
And then hunting down fleeing pirates long after the outcome was decided.
He remembered the execution platform.
The chained man kneeling there, and the crowd calling it justice.
But something about it had felt wrong for him. Executing a man for the sins of his father.
While monsters who committed unspeakable crimes rotted safely in Impel Down, kept alive for "Justice.", the system had felt twisted, unnatural.
He remembered standing there in uniform, rifle in hand, watching chaos unfold and thinking:
'This isn't justice.'
'This is not why I joined the Navy.'
He remembered the bloodlust. the celebration.
The blind obedience. It had disgusted him and confused him.
And after the war, the drinking started.
Bars in Grove 12.
Grove 24.
Grove 33.
Every night almost.
For a year and a half.
Trying to drown the images.
Trying to drown the questions.
Trying to drown the guilt of surviving.
Adam sat heavily on a wooden crate near the harbor edge.
The waves lapped gently beneath the docks.
He pressed a hand against his forehead as if that would hold everything in place.
"That's a lot to take in…"
His breathing slowly evened out.
"But I remember everything.."
He exhaled shakily.
"My name here is Adam too…"
He stared at his hands.
Was this body real?
Had this been a real Marine named Adam?
Or was this just a vessel crafted by that god?
An avatar.
A convenient insertion point.
"Was this even a real person…" he muttered quietly, "or did that thing just transfer my soul into some empty slot… the memories are too vivid to be fake.."
The thought made his skin crawl.
He pushed himself to his feet.
No answers would come from standing here.
He took a step forward.
"..There you are."
Adam turned.
A Marine stood a few meters away, hands resting on her hips.
She looked around his age, maybe a year older. Short ash-brown hair tied into a low ponytail. Sharp grey eyes that always looked mildly unimpressed with the world. A small scar cut across her eyebrow, giving her an almost permanent look of irritation.
Her Marine coat was slung over her shoulders instead of worn properly, sleeves hanging loose, not overly formal.
She exhaled slowly through her nose.
"I've been looking for you for fifteen minutes," she said. "If the Captain finds you drinking again, you're dead."
Adam blinked once.
The name surfaced naturally.
'Anna.'
'Right...'
'Not Anna.'
'Yeah definitely Anna, I need to get used to this..'
His unit partner.
Reliable, covering him while he goes to drink himself stupid, Sharp-tongued and annoyingly responsible.
He exhaled quietly.
'Right. I'm part of the captain's unit here…'
"Yeah…" Adam said, straightening slightly. "What's going on now… Anna, right?"
She froze mid-step.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Right?" she repeated flatly.
Adam's brain caught up a second too late.
She stepped closer and leaned in slightly, squinting at him like he was a suspicious package.
"How much did you drink idiot? Can't you just get over it yet?"
Adam gave a weak half-smile.
"Not enough, apparently."
She stared at him for a long second.
Then she rolled her eyes.
"Unbelievable."
But there was something else under the irritation. She was concerned about him.
She'd seen him after the war.
She knew why he drank.
She just didn't approve of it.
"Never mind," she muttered, adjusting the rifle strapped to her back. "No time for this."
Her tone shifted.
Serious now.
"Trouble started again in Grove 50. Pirates. A full crew this time."
Adam's posture instinctively sharpened.
"Grove 50…" he repeated quietly.
"We're holding them until the Pacifistas arrive," she continued. "Captain already mobilized half the unit. And if we're late because you decided to nap in a tavern, I'm blaming you if we get punished!"
Adam adjusted the rifle strap on his back.
"Fair."
She studied him for a second longer.
Her gaze lingered.
"You good Adam?" she asked, more quietly this time.
It wasn't a formal question.
It was personal and Adam met her eyes.
His expression was steadier now.
"I'm good."
She searched his face for signs of doubt.
Whatever she saw must've satisfied her. "Alright then," she said, turning sharply toward the inner streets. "Try not to black out mid-fight. I'm not dragging you again."
"Again?" Adam muttered.
She shot him a look over her shoulder.
"You don't remember that either?"
Adam quickly corrected himself. "I do. I do."
She looked at him skeptically saying "Grove 50, Let's go." and they started walking toward the inner streets of Sabaody, bubbles floating lazily overhead, the sounds of shouting and distant chaos slowly growing louder, Adam felt it all settling into place.
Marine. Sabaody. Post-Marineford War. A unit. And a partner who clearly didn't hate him.. just tolerated him aggressively.
And somewhere inside him, at least that's what he thought
A power.
Bound by this world's rules.
Adam glanced at Anna walking slightly ahead of him,
"Alright…" Adam muttered under his breath.
"Let's see what perspective looks like."