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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Slowly watching the light begin to fill my room from the radiant Sunlight Tree Eve, I turn my head to the ceiling. These past few days have been...difficult, to say the least. The tears had long dried up, but the pain—a gaping void of emptiness—refused to leave, overstaying its welcome and sapping the energy from me, leaving me feeling numb.

The worst part is I don't know what to feel. Sadness at the fact that the world seemingly tries to brush over Fisher Tiger's death? Or anger at myself because I was too afraid to even broach the subject of telling someone the information i held? Whatever it was, I was all out. As I was entrenched within my thoughts, I noticed movement within the bed. Looking down, I see Silas slithering up towards me.

His cool scales against my skin snap me back to reality. I gently stroke his head, grateful for the silent comfort he provides. The weight of knowledge—both from my past life and the future I foresee—had pressed down on me, and it cost dearly. Fisher Tiger's death isn't just a personal loss; it feels like a slap from the world itself, a reminder of the sword that hangs over our heads, threatening to sever our blood. The sword that is sometimes swung or accelerated by others we bump into on this crazy road we call life.

I knew that already of course, as the familiar ten-ton weight returned to my chest. The feeling that I was strong enough, yet too weak. Whether it be literally, where a lightning strike took my past life, or the weakness of having to stay back while the dojo fought invading pirates, or even the mental weakness—the fear of what telling Fisher Tiger might mean for me.

This feeling, it's not new, but i didnt enjoy it anymore than last time. I've always known about the injustices of this world, the threat of death. But knowing and experiencing are two different things. Fisher Tiger's death has made it all too real, too immediate and it's happening here, now, to people I care about.

And what have I done with this knowledge? Have I truly made a difference? Or have I been too cautious, too afraid of changing things? The guilt gnaws at me, a constant companion to the grief. Could I have saved Fisher Tiger if I'd spoken up? Or would that have just hastened his demise and furthermore put my own life or my family at risk?

These questions swirl in my mind, a tempest of doubt and regret. But beneath it all, there's something else stirring. A fire swirling so deep within my gut it feels like it's coming from my soul itself. I can't change the past, no matter how much I want to throw up the bitter pill of regret. Nonetheless, the future that still lies ahead of me is something I can shape.

The light that was Fisher Tiger, snuffed out by this cruel world—I will carry that torch. I'll show him, from his watery grave, that I will achieve the difference I promised. As king of the world, I'll reignite the flame Fisher Tiger tried to light, and I'll make it burn brighter than ever before.

A soft knock at the door breaks my reverie. "Lucian?" my mother's voice calls gently. "May we come in?"

I sit up, Silas coiling around my arm. "Yes," I respond, my voice slightly hoarse but steadier than it's been in days.

My parents enter, concern etched on their faces. They've been giving me space, but I can see the worry in their eyes. My mother sits on the edge of the bed, while my father stands nearby, his hand on her shoulder.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" my mother asks, her voice soft and filled with concern.

I take a deep breath, considering my words carefully. "I'm... I'm not okay," I admit. "But I think I'm ready to start moving forward."

My father nods, a mix of sadness and relief in his eyes. "Fisher Tiger's death... it's hit all of us hard. He was a hero to many, including you."

"He was more than that," I say, feeling a lump form in my throat. "He was hope. Hope that things could change, that they could be better. And I don't want that hope to die with him."

My mother reaches out, taking my hand in hers. "And it doesn't have to, Lucian. That hope lives on in those he inspired, in those who believe in his dream."

Her words strike a chord within me, echoing my own thoughts from moments ago. "You're right," I say, squeezing her hand. "And I... I want to be part of that. I want to carry on his fight, in my own way. It's what he would have wanted."

My father steps closer, his expression serious but supportive. "That's a noble goal, son. But it's also a challenging one. The world... it's not always kind to those who try to change it."

I nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. "I know. But staying silent, doing nothing... that feels wrong too. Fisher Tiger showed us that change is possible, even if it's difficult."

My parents exchange a look, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, my mother speaks. "You're growing up so fast, Lucian. Sometimes I forget how thoughtful you are." She pauses, then continues, "We'll support you, whatever path you choose. But promise us you'll be careful. That you'll think before you act."

"I promise," I say, feeling a warmth spread through me at their understanding and support. "Thank you... for everything. For giving me space, and for being here now."

My father smiles, gently squeezing my shoulder. "That's what family is for, son. Now, how about some breakfast? Grandmaster Namur sent word. He'd like to see you today if you're feeling up to it."

I nod, a small spark of determination kindling within me. "Yes, I'd like that. Both breakfast and seeing Grandmaster Namur. I think it'll be good for me."

Heading to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast rises to greet us. Within me, the pain lingers, the loss still raw, but alongside it, a quiet resolve flickers to life. It's a determination to act, to make a difference—to move forward not only for my own dreams but in honor of Fisher Tiger's memory.

Settling at the table with my parents, Silas nibbling at his own meal nearby, I contemplate my next steps. The time has come to start truly harnessing the knowledge at my fingertips and grow stronger. For this, I'll need a secluded training ground. Even though Seimei Kikan allows me to train mentally, the gulf between mental and physical practice remains vastly different. The Sea Forest emerges in my mind as the perfect location—a place where I can begin to shape my future and, perhaps, influence the destiny of Fishman Island and beyond.

As I savor each bite, I acknowledge the long, challenging road ahead. Yet, for the first time in days, a spark of readiness ignites within me. I'm prepared to face whatever comes, one determined step at a time.

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The familiar scent of salt water and incense greets me as I enter the dojo. Today, a solemn quiet replaces the usual bustle of training. I make my way to Sensei's personal dojo and out into the open, where Grandmaster Namur's private rock garden awaits.

I find him there, carefully raking patterns into the sand. His weathered hands move with practiced precision, creating intricate swirls around the carefully placed stones. He doesn't look up as I approach, but I know he's aware of my presence.

"Lucian," he says, his voice the steady mountain it always is, but tinged with a weariness I've never heard before. "Come, sit with me."

I kneel on the wooden platform bordering the garden, watching as he completes the pattern. The silence between us is heavy but not uncomfortable.

Finally, Grandmaster Namur sets the rake aside and turns to face me. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, seem slightly dimmed, but there's still a fire burning within them.

He takes a deep breath, the sound filled with a quiet reminiscent tone. "Fisher Tiger was more than just a student to me," he begins, his voice thick with emotion. "He was like a son. From the moment he stepped into this dojo, his eyes were always looking to the horizon, filled with wonder and curiosity. He would often talk about his dreams of sailing the open waters, of seeing the world beyond the depths we know."

Namur's eyes glisten with a hint of moisture as he continues, "I remember the day you declared you wanted to make a difference. Fisher Tiger was there, and I saw the same spark in his eyes as he listened to you. He believed in your potential, in your ability to shape your own destiny."

He pauses, picking up a small pebble, turning it over in his hand. "Do you see this garden, Lucian? Each stone, each grain of sand, has its place. But the beauty comes not from their individual existence, but from how they interact, how they create something greater together."

"Fisher Tiger was like this pebble. Small in the grand scheme of things, but capable of creating ripples that change the entire landscape."

He drops the pebble into the carefully raked sand, and I watch as the impact sends tiny waves across the surface, disturbing the perfect patterns.

"Some might see this disruption as destruction," Namur says, his voice low. "But I see it as the beginning of something new. The garden will never be the same, but perhaps it will be even more beautiful for the change."

I nod, taking in his words. "Change is necessary," I say, my voice firm. "We need to forge a new path, a better one."

Namur's eyes meet mine, a glimmer of approval in their depths. "Indeed, Lucian. Fisher Tiger's life, and his death, have altered us all. But just as there are pebbles, there are mountains—those whose impact is profound and enduring. Roger, Whitebeard, The World Government—these are the titans and many others that came before who have reshaped our world."

He continues, "Whitebeard, with his declaration of Fishman Island as his territory, protected us from the onslaught of pirates. Roger, the Pirate King, whose legacy echoes through the seas. Or finally, the World Government, whose influence has grasped the six seas within their palms. These are the mountains against which all our efforts are measured."

I absorb his words, the wisdom he imparts settling into my bones. "And what about me, Sensei? I want to be more than a ripple. I want to be a tsunami."

Namur smiles, a gentle, knowing smile. "You, Lucian, have the potential to be whatever you choose. Whether a pebble or a mountain, your impact will be felt. The key is to nurture your spirit, to let it grow without hardening. Be like the strongest current that adapts to the stones in its path."

I bow deeply, feeling the weight of his words settle into my core. As I straighten, I see a new determination in Namur's eyes, mirroring my own. The path ahead is uncertain and daunting, the difficulty of my ambition looming large. It's a strange feeling, to have someone expect so much of me, not for their own benefit, but because they genuinely believe in my potential. Despite my reservations, I'm resolved to not just meet but exceed the trust Sensei Namur and Fisher Tiger have placed in me. I will become the person they believe I can be, and perhaps even more.

I take a deep breath, meeting Namur's gaze with newfound resolve. "Sensei, your wisdom and Fisher Tiger's legacy will be my guiding stars. I promise to carry the flame of his dream, to be a force for change in this world. Thank you for believing in me."

Namur's expression softens, a mix of pride and melancholy in his eyes. He places a weathered hand on my shoulder. "Lucian, remember this: the greatest honor we can give to those who believed in us is to become what they saw in us. Now go, forge your path, and let the ripples of your actions become the waves of change."

As I leave the garden, the weight of responsibility and the warmth of their faith in me intertwine, propelling me forward.

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Departing from the dojo, the weight of Sensei Namur's words lingers with me. The streets of Fishman Island, usually bustling with life and energy, seem subdued. Fisher Tiger's death has cast a long shadow over our home.

I pass by the town square, where a makeshift memorial has sprung up. Pictures of Fisher Tiger, surrounded by flowers and trinkets, serve as a stark reminder of our loss. Merfolk and fishmen alike gather around it, their faces etched with sorrow.

The usually cheerful marketplace is quieter today. Vendors speak in hushed tones, and even the children's laughter seems muted.

As I make my way towards the outskirts of the city, I overhear snippets of conversation. Some speak of fear, worried about what Fisher Tiger's death means for relations with humans. Others talk of anger, their voices tight with suppressed rage. But there are also whispers of hope, of carrying on Fisher Tiger's dream of equality and freedom.

Finally, I reach the border of the Sea Forest. As I enter, the transformation is breathtaking. The somber mood of the city gives way to an otherworldly beauty that never fails to amaze me.

Massive, ancient trees stretch upwards, their branches swaying gently in the currents. Schools of vibrantly colored fish dart between the trunks, their scales glittering in the filtered sunlight. In the distance, I spot the graceful form of a whale gliding peacefully through the water.

But what truly captures my attention is the light. Streams of sunlight from the Eve tree pierce through the water, creating shimmering beams that dance among the sea flora. The entire forest seems to glow, bathed in a soft, ethereal radiance that makes the colors more vibrant, the shadows deeper, and the entire scene more magical.

I float there for a moment, soaking in the serene beauty. The contrast between the subdued mood of the city and the vibrant life of the Sea Forest is stark.

With a deep breath, I steel myself for the training ahead. The Sea Forest beckons, its luminescent beauty a perfect backdrop for the task at hand. I push off, swimming deeper into the heart of this underwater paradise.

As I glide through the water, I take in the sights around me. Towering kelp forests sway gently in the current, their fronds creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Schools of iridescent fish dart between the giant roots of the mangrove-like trees, their scales catching the filtered sunlight and scattering it in rainbow hues.

I weave through natural archways formed by intertwining coral structures, marveling at the intricate patterns etched by time and tide. The deeper I go, the more I feel a connection to this place – a sanctuary untouched by the troubles of the world above.

Finally, I come upon a clearing. It's a perfect circular space, as if nature itself had carved out this training ground just for me. The seafloor here is smooth, covered in a fine, pearl-white sand that seems to glow in the diffused light from above.

I settle in the center of this natural arena, my feet touching down on the soft sand. Closing my eyes, I reach deep within my mind, searching for the memories of my past life within my mental library. Like a faded photograph slowly coming into focus, I see them – my grandparents' backyard, the old, worn boxing gloves, the patient smile on my grandfather's face as he teaches me proper form, the heavy and weighted thump of the gloves against the punching bag.

A wave of nostalgia washes over me, bittersweet and comforting. I can almost hear my grandmother's laughter as she watches us, smell the scent of her famous lemonade wafting from the kitchen. For a moment, I'm transported back to those simpler times, when my biggest worry was perfecting my jab.

Shaking off the reverie, I refocus on the task at hand. I shift my stance, muscle memory from another lifetime guiding my movements. My fists come up, elbows tucked, shoulders relaxed but ready. The form feels both foreign and familiar, like reuniting with an old friend after years apart.

As I throw my first punch, cutting through the water with surprising ease, a smile spreads across my face. It's a dual sensation – the joy of rediscovering a long-lost skill, and the warmth of cherished memories. Each jab, cross, and hook feels more natural than the last, my body remembering what my mind hadn't forgotten.

Time seems to lose meaning as I train, the rhythmic motion of my fists through water becoming a meditation of sorts. The Sea Forest around me fades into the background, my world narrowing to just this – the push and pull of muscles, the resistance of the water, the steady beat of my heart.

I stop to finally pause to catch my breath, I realize with a start how much time has passed. The light filtering through the canopy above has shifted, painting the clearing in different hues. The rhythmic movement of the water around me seems to echo the steady beat of my heart as I cool down from my training.

My gaze wanders around the forest, taking in the ethereal beauty of my surroundings. Seeing and basking within this light though brings a memory to surface - a conversation with my father about our Mink tribe's Sulong ability. I recall the regret in his voice as he explained why he couldn't train me yet, the depths of Fishman Island denying us access to the moon's grace.

I had been regretful as well, though not as much as I was when I went to the surface later on. I could train then, even if it was very late in my life. But what if I didn't have to? The light shining on me from the Sunlight Tree Eve—if my memory serves me right, which it obviously does—is the same light that the moon reflects onto us at night.

Moonlight, which triggers our mink transformation, is not produced solely by the moon itself but is instead merely a redirection of the sun's rays. This begs the question: is seeing the moon actually an essential component for using Sulong, or is the light that comes from it the only real requirement?

My heart starts to race as I consider the implications, looking around at the light permeating the forest before I close my eyes and begin to focus on the warm rays caressing my skin. I reach out with my senses to hone in on the process of transforming into my Sulong form, as my dad had taught me, despite not being able to use it yet. At first, nothing happens. But despite doubt trying to creep in, I stay steadfast, determined to follow through on my possible theory.

But then, I feel it—a surge of power unlike anything I’ve experienced before. My body begins to change, strength flooding through my veins. I can feel the overall enlargement of my height and the size of my body; my claws unsheathed and elongated, becoming like obsidian knives. Although I cannot see it, I feel my hair whitening, electrified as if it were living whips of lightning.

Electricity begins arcing across my blue skin, the sensation both foreign and exhilarating. With Seimei Kikan, I was able to analyze the process internally, feeling every shift and adjustment as my body transforms. Each cell seems to vibrate with energy, aligning perfectly with the newfound power coursing through me.

As the power begins to course through me, I feel it grip not just my body but my mind as well. The backlash of madness that accompanies this immense power arrives alongside the benefits like a dark cloud. However, I easily squash it. With the Life Return technique on top of my mental scape, my mind is a fortress, built not on shaky ground but solid foundations. Thus, the potential loss of mental faculties that may come with the Sulong transformation is effortlessly negated.

I open my eyes, marveling at my transformed state. The Sulong form feels both foreign and natural. I stretch and flex my improved body before spreading my wings wide. Crouching down, I powerfully beat my wings and blast off the sea floor like a torpedo, speeding through the water and propelling myself through the forest.

Even with Seimei Kikan, it takes me a minute to maneuver this temporarily improved speed within the forest, but luckily I don't crash into anything. The speed and power are beyond exhilarating, my enhanced senses taking in every detail of my surroundings with crystal clarity as I weave between the trees, my tail providing perfect balance and control. I push my new form to its limits, performing acrobatic maneuvers, I can’t help but smile. A joyous laugh escapes me, fueled by the sheer thrill of my newfound capabilities.

Finally, as the excitement begins to ebb and fatigue sets in, I allow the transformation to fade. Returning to my normal form, I float in the center of the clearing, my mind racing with the implications of what I’ve just achieved.

The fruits borne from my theory were juicy indeed, not only because of the ingenious and, frankly, dangerous possibility of using Sulong both day and night, but also because I felt I could go even further. With the exceptional control i have over y body I could feel, down to the cellular level, how Sulong affected me. Perhaps one day, I might be able to use Sulong without a single iota of light in sight. But that is a challenge for another day. For now, I am content with the progress I’ve made.

As the last rays of sunlight filter through the canopy, signaling the end of the day, I make my way back towards the edge of the Sea Forest. My body is tired, but my spirit is soaring. Today, I've not only reconnected with skills from my past life but also unlocked a power unique to this one.

Swimming towards the edges of the forest, I can't help but feel that I've taken a significant step forward on my journey. As I reach the outskirts of the city, the last thought that crosses my mind is one of determination. Tomorrow, I'll return to the Sea Forest, to train harder, to push further and move towards those things i haven't touched with a ten foot pole yet with both hands on.

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Authors Note: 

Sorry about the late chapter actually been on a road trip today on top of this chapter being somewhat of a doozy 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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