Beneath The Crimson Tides

Disclaimer:

"One Piece" and all related characters, settings, and concepts are the intellectual property of Eiichiro Oda, Shueisha, Toei Animation, and any other entities associated with the creation and distribution of the original manga and anime series. No copyright infringement is intended.
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The chaos of battle gave way to an eerie calm as Whitebeard's presence settled over Fishman Island like a heavy blanket. I stood there, my body aching from countless cuts and bruises, watching as the legendary pirate effortlessly turned the tide of battle. The blood on my hands had long since dried, a stark reminder of the life I had taken earlier—my first, but in this world of pirates and power, likely not my last.

As the Whitebeard Pirates surged forward, led by their formidable commanders, I found myself rooted to the spot. The sheer scale of power on display was overwhelming. Marco's phoenix form soared overhead, azure flames trailing in his wake, while the other commanders carved through the enemy ranks with terrifying efficiency. 

My parents regrouped beside me, their expressions a mix of relief and awe. "Lucian, are you alright?" my mother asked, her eyes scanning me for injuries, her voice tinged with concern.

I nodded absently, my mind elsewhere. "Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered, unable to tear my gaze away from the unfolding spectacle. The words felt hollow, inadequate to describe the turmoil of emotions and thoughts swirling within me.

As the remaining pirate invaders were rounded up or fled in panic, I found myself drawn towards the center of the action. Whitebeard stood there, his massive frame dwarfing even the largest fishmen, an immovable mountain of a man. King Neptune approached him, gratitude evident in every movement.

"Edward, my old friend," Neptune's voice carried across the square, rich with emotion. "Once again, we are in your debt."

Whitebeard let out a booming laugh that seemed to shake the very foundations of the island. "Gurararara! Think nothing of it, Neptune. No one threatens my friends and gets away with it with their life." His words, though jovial, carried an undercurrent of steel—a promise and a warning rolled into one.

As I watched their interaction, a realization began to dawn on me, illuminating my mind like the first rays of sunrise. This was more than just raw power on display. It was leadership, influence, the ability to shape the world around you. Whitebeard hadn't just won a battle; he had changed the entire political landscape of Fishman Island with his presence alone. With a single action, and more to come when he takes this island as his territory he had rewritten the future of an entire nation.

Just like Roger had so long ago, setting off a era with his final words uttered before death that would affect the world for years to come.

This is what it means to be at the top, I thought, my mind racing, heart pounding with a mix of awe and nascent ambition. This is the level I need to reach.

But even as the thought formed, doubt crept in, a shadow threatening to shut down my budding aspirations. The gulf between my current self and these titans seemed impossibly vast, a chasm too wide to bridge. And yet...despite the immense challenge it posed. i had confidence in myself. Even normal humans like Garp have reached the highest echelons with just their bodies and haki. If they could do it, why couldn't I strive to go even further beyond?

As if sensing my inner turmoil, my father placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding me in the present. "Quite a sight, isn't it?" he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "Men like Whitebeard, they're in a league of their own."

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "Yeah, they are," I managed to reply, the words barely scratching the surface of my thoughts.

Who exactly would I be in this world of monsters and legends? The question that had plagued me since witnessing Roger's power years ago now demanded an answer with renewed urgency. I know with power comes the responsibility of how you use it—a lesson from my past life that felt more relevant than ever. These men weren't just powerful; they were leaders, shapers of destiny. They were...

Kings, the realization hit me like a thunderbolt, electrifying every fiber of my being. They're kings in all but name. Moreso Whitebeard, who has gained the title of "Emperor." With him and others such as Kaido or Big Mom basically running the New World, taking territory for themselves, their impact is immense. Whitebeard especially—his legacy would echo through the ages, long after his death in Marineford.

As the implications of that thought unfolded in my mind, I knew that simply becoming strong wouldn't be enough. Sure, becoming something like the greatest martial artist in the world or history akin to Mihawk with his swordsmanship would be a great achievement, but ultimately, I would be forgotten with the tides of time as a new generation comes and someone inevitably surpasses me.

To truly make my mark, to etch my name above even these legends, I needed to aim higher. I needed to aim so high that my hand would touch the skies themselves, grasping at heights never before reached.

But what throne could possibly put me above the likes of Whitebeard and Roger? If they're the kings and rulers of the seas, then what about...

And then, in a moment of breathtaking ambition that surprised even me, the answer came, clear as day yet almost too audacious to voice. The world itself. I'll be the king of the entire world.

The enormity of the goal I had just set for myself was staggering. It was stupid crazy and almost literally impossible yet it felt....right. Part of me wanted to laugh at the audacity of it, while another part thrilled at the challenge. It was madness, surely—and yet, in this world of impossible dreams and larger-than-life figures, was it truly so far-fetched? If i am to live again to live in a new world what would be the point of it all, if i took the already trodden route instead of grasping for the stars albeit however far they may be?

As Whitebeard and his crew prepared to depart, leaving behind a changed Fishman Island, I stood there, my mind alight with possibilities, my soul feeling almost alight with newfound purpose. The path ahead would be long and fraught with danger, but for the first time since my rebirth, I felt the full weight and potential of this second chance at life.

I clenched my fists, a new fire burning in my chest, its heat spreading through my veins. In that moment, I made a silent vow, not just to myself but to the very fabric of this world or whatever else that had given me the grace of a second chance:

I will reach higher than anyone ever has before. I will rewrite the very history of this world. And when I'm done, my name will be etched not just in the annals of history, but in the very bedrock of this world itself.

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The celebrations erupted across Fishman Island almost as soon as the last enemy pirate was gone. The relief of survival, coupled with the honor of hosting the Whitebeard Pirates, transformed the recent battlefield into a vibrant festival. Laughter and music filled the air, a stark contrast to the screams and clashing of weapons from just hours before.

I found myself swept up in the tide of revelers, my body moving on autopilot while my mind still reeled from the day's events and my newfound ambition. The dried blood on my hands had been washed away, but the weight of my first kill still pressed heavily on my conscience. Yet, even that somber thought was momentarily drowned out by the infectious joy surrounding me.

Whitebeard's crew had fully integrated into the festivities, their boisterous laughter and incredible drinking capacity adding fuel to the already roaring fire of celebration. I watched, fascinated, as these powerful warriors who had seemed like forces of nature during the battle now laughed, danced, and made merry with the citizens of Fishman Island.

As I navigated through the crowd, a flash of blue caught my eye. There, perched casually on a piece of rubble that hadn't yet been cleared away, was Marco the Phoenix. His usually lazy-looking eyes scanned the crowd, a slight smile on his face. Before I could stop myself, my feet had already carried me towards him.

"Enjoying the party-yoi?" Marco asked as I approached, his unique verbal tic catching me off guard despite my memories from my past life.

I nodded, suddenly feeling very small in the presence of Whitebeard's first commander. "It's... incredible," I managed to say, inwardly cringing at how inadequate the word sounded.

Marco's smile widened a fraction. "It always is after a battle. The joy of being alive, of having protected what's important - there's nothing quite like it."

His words struck a chord within me. "Is that why you fight?" I asked, curiosity overcoming my nervousness. "To protect what's important?"

Marco regarded me for a long moment, his eyes seeming to peer into my very soul. "That's part of it-yoi," he said finally. "But it's more than that. We fight for our family, for our freedom to live as we choose, and for the dreams we each hold dear."

Family. Freedom. Dreams. The words echoed in my mind, each carrying a weight I was only beginning to understand.

"But what about power?" I pressed, thinking of my newly formed ambition. "Surely that's part of why you fight too?"

Marco's expression turned thoughtful. "Power is a means to an end-yoi, not the end itself. Pops is one of the most powerful men in the world, but that's not what defines him. What defines him is not how he uses his immense strength or who he fights but instead us his family that is there with him for the journey across these seas."

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Marco held up a hand, his gaze shifting to something behind me. "I think there's someone else you should be talking to right now, yoi."

Confused, I turned to follow his gaze. There, in the midst of the celebrating crowd, were my parents. They stood hand in hand, their eyes scanning the throng of people. Looking for me, I realized with a start. Despite everything that had happened, despite my grand new ambition, they were worried about me.

A lump formed in my throat as I watched them. In my past life, I had died with regret, lamenting the fact that i had not been able to spend as much time with my grandparents as i shouldve before they were gone . And here I was, gifted with a second chance, a loving family, and I had been so caught up in my own thoughts and ambitions that I had nearly forgotten them.

"Go to them," Marco's voice came from behind me, gentle but firm. "In this world, family - whether by blood or by choice - is the greatest treasure you can have. Don't forget that-yoi."

His words hit me like a physical blow. Tears welled up in my eyes as the emotions I had been suppressing since the battle finally broke through. Without another word to Marco, I pushed through the crowd, my vision blurring as I made my way to my parents.

"Mom! Dad!" I called out, my voice cracking.

They turned at the sound of my voice, relief washing over their faces. In that moment, seeing the love and concern in their eyes, I felt something shift within me. My ambition was still there, still burning bright, but it was no longer all-consuming.

If i am to achieve my dream i dont want it to be a lonesome one, not just with parents but friends i might make along the way i want them to be right there next to me sharing in the glory together.

As I fell into their embrace, tears streaming down my face while giving muffled apologies and assurances, No matter how high I aimed, no matter what heights I reached, I would never forget this moment. I would never forget the importance of family, of love, of the connections that make life worth living.

In the background, I could have sworn I heard Whitebeard's distinctive laugh, a sound that seemed to approve of this moment of realization. As I clung to my parents, surrounded by the joy and relief of post-battle celebrations, I felt more alive than I had since my rebirth into this world.

The high path i set for myself to becoming the king of the world was still before me, a daunting and nearly impossible challenge. But now I understood that it wasn't a journey I had to make alone. And somehow, that made all the difference.

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The celebrations had wound down, and a comfortable silence enveloped us as we made our way home. The events of the day weighed heavily on all of us, but there was a warmth in the air, a sense of relief and love that seemed to cushion the burden.

As we entered our home, my father - his goat-like features softened in the dim light - gestured towards the living room. "I think we all need to talk," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

We settled onto our worn but comfortable couch, my mother on one side of me, my father on the other. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, my mother broke the silence.

"Lucian," she began, her webbed hand finding mine, "we saw what happened today. Your first... your first kill."

I tensed, the memory flashing vividly in my mind. The pirate's face, frozen in a sense of shock and pain, the feeling of my claws slicing through his throat and he drops to the ground hopelessly trying to save himself, staining the ground with his life blood.

My father's hand came to rest on my shoulder. "It's okay, son. We understand what you're going through."

I looked up at him, surprised. "You do?"

He nodded, exchanging a glance with my mother. "We were bounty hunters before we settled here. We've... we've taken lives before."

"It's never easy," my mother added, her voice soft. "And it shouldn't be. But sometimes, in this world, it's necessary."

I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I... I don't regret it. He would have killed me if I hadn't... but it feels..."

"Heavy," my father finished for me. "It feels heavy. And it should. That weight, Lucian, is what separates us from monsters. It's what keeps us human... or mink, or fishman," he added with a small smile.

My mother squeezed my hand. "We've noticed how hard you've been pushing yourself since the attack on the dojo. And now this... We want you to know that it's okay to feel, to process this."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

"As martial artists," my father continued, "we have a unique responsibility. Our bodies are our weapons. When we fight, when we... kill, it's intimate. Personal. There's no distance between us and our actions."

"How... how do you deal with it?" I managed to ask.

My parents shared another look. "We honor those we've killed," my mother said. "We remember them. We dont hesitate and we do not shy away from it either."

"And," my father added, "we look into their eyes. It's a last courtesy, a recognition of their humanity. It helps us remember the weight of our actions."

We talked for hours, about life and death, about responsibility and power. They shared stories from their bounty hunting days, the lessons they'd learned, the weight they carried. As the night wore on, I felt the burden on my heart lighten, not because the act of killing became easier to bear, but because I understood it better.

Finally, exhausted but somehow lighter, I retired to my room. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind raced with thoughts of the day, of the future.

The kill still weighed on me, a palpable presence in my mind. But I accepted it, understood it as a necessary step on the path I'd chosen. With my dream of becoming the king of the world, I knew it wouldn't be my last kill. Not by a long shot.

I would honor my parents' teachings. I would look into the eyes of those whose lives I took, carrying that weight with me. I wont spare their lives but they are no inconsequential they are real and I would avoid killing innocents at all costs. Afterall my path to the top will inevitably be built on a mountain of corpses from the bodies of my enemies by the end of it, but I wouldn't let it be stained with the blood of the innocent though i had a sneaking suspicion that sentiment may be one i will not be able to meet no matter how i feel or planned as a side effect of my actions.

As sleep began to claim me, my mind turned to the future. With fresh eyes, I truly saw  it in its entirety the monstrous dream I had taken up. Pulling down the World Government and the Celestial Dragons from the pedestal they had so self righteously placed themselves on wouldn't be easy. They definitely wouldn't come off their throne without clawing and biting all the way through.

Nonetheless, I would rip them from it, even if I had to take their cold, dead hands with it. But to do that, I needed to get stronger—much stronger. But Strength alone wouldn't be enough. I needed knowledge, influence, allies, resources, and a plan using the knowledge I have of this world if I want to take them down.

There are many things I'll need to do to get all that, but the first step would be deciding who I am to this world as I walk this path. My conversation with my parents today, besides the philosophical resolutions, had also shined a light on how I'll do that. Obviously, being a pirate is out. Despite how much I admire Whitebeard or Roger, a pirate's life isn't for me. As tempting as the freedom is, it also comes with restrictions— the main factor of not choosing this route is the constant hunting from marines but also the limited reach in other things regarding legal or public.

Working for the government is out too. I can just have someone infiltrate for me if I need to peer deeper into their inner workings and being under constant scrutiny or restricted on where i go would be a unnecessary challenge i wont put myself through. Then there's other paths such as the Revolutionary Army. While our goals are somewhat similar, our methods and my plans for after taking them down are too different to join them, though I can definitely work with them in some way.

The route I'll take is being a bounty hunter, just like my parents. From hearing their stories, it seemed to perfectly fit my goals and situation. It would give me the freedom to travel, build my reputation as a formidable fighter, and capitalize on the turbulent times we're in. With the upsurge of pirates courtesy of Roger, hunting them down would allow me many benefits such as place myself in the public's good graces, gather resources like money and subordinates, and gain combat experience.

For now, though, the finer details of my plans can wait. Tomorrow, I will start planning in earnest and begin my path to the future.

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Authors Note: 

Was a little shorter than usual but it felt right to end it here anyway thanks for reading the chapter :) If you have any thoughts/criticisms you'd like to share or ideas for the story be it ideas for powers/techniques, characters, plot points or anything else let me know in the comments, ill try to get to them. Also for any if interested this is Crossposted on webnovel, scribblehub, AO3 and fanfiction.net though webnovel is the one i mainly use and have in mind. ill try to post images for characters or gifs for techniques on the sites that will let me. Anyway Bye!

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