Location: Aboard the Oro Jackson, en route to the next island
The sun had returned. Golden rays bathed the sea, and the storm from the day before seemed like a distant memory. The Oro Jackson sailed smoothly across the Grand Line, its crew alive with chatter, laughter, and the rowdy songs only pirates could sing.
But Toni stood alone at the bow, eyes locked on the horizon, silent.
He watched the sea not with wonder, but with awareness. Each ripple, each gust of wind, even the distant cries of sky-birds, registered in his mind. His Observation Haki had been active since the moment he woke up—it never stopped. It never had.
Shanks approached, wiping seawater from his face after a sparring session with Rayleigh.
"You always look like you're meditating or something," Shanks said, flopping beside him. "You don't talk much, huh?"
Toni glanced at him. "Words slow down the mind."
Shanks burst out laughing. "Man, you're weird. Cool, though."
Toni turned back to the sea. "You move like fire," he said suddenly.
Shanks blinked. "Huh?"
"Your aura. It flickers. Jumps. Your energy burns wildly… but you're not sure what to set it on fire for yet."
Shanks stared at him, eyes wide. Then smiled. "That's… the coolest thing anyone's ever said about me."
Elsewhere on the ship…
Roger leaned over a map in the captain's cabin, Rayleigh and Scopper Gaban nearby.
"He's no ordinary boy," Rayleigh said, eyes serious. "Even Gaban couldn't sneak up on him this morning. That haki of his… it's evolved."
Roger nodded. "And that sword style he carries—what'd you call it again?"
"Mythblade Flow." Gaban spoke up, arms crossed. "I've only heard the name once. Supposedly a lost sword school from the Void Century. Legends say their blades could 'cut the will of the heavens.'"
Roger's grin widened. "Perfect. That kind of legend belongs on my ship."
"But there's risk," Rayleigh added. "If the World Government catches wind we've got a Mythblade on board..."
"Then we protect him," Roger said without hesitation. "Just like the rest of our family."
Nightfall – Training Deck
Moonlight bathed the deck in silver as Toni stood at the center, eyes closed. In his hands was the wooden blade, gripped with reverence.
He exhaled slowly.
Then moved.
Each motion was a dance—graceful, fluid, precise. His feet barely made a sound, his blade carving lines through the air as if shaping invisible waves. The crew had gathered in silence to watch. No one dared interrupt.
Even Buggy, normally dismissive, was speechless.
Rayleigh's voice broke the silence.
"Where'd you learn to move like that?"
Toni paused, sweat trailing down his cheek. "I didn't. My body just remembers."
Roger stepped forward from the shadows. "The soul holds truths deeper than memory. You're proof of that."
Toni turned toward him. "You've been watching."
"Wouldn't miss it," Roger said with a grin. "You wanna try that with a real sword?"
Toni's eyes gleamed for a moment—but he shook his head. "Not yet. I'm not ready to hear its voice."
Roger's eyes narrowed curiously. "Hear its voice?"
Toni nodded. "The sword calls to me in dreams. But I don't understand the language. Not yet."
Shanks whispered to Buggy, "He really is from another world…"
Buggy frowned. "Or just crazy."
Roger laughed. "Crazy or not, he's one of us now."
Later that night – Below deck
Toni lay in his hammock, eyes open.
The sea whispered beyond the wood. But within him, something stirred. A pressure. Like a distant heartbeat echoing through time.
Suddenly, his vision blurred—and a flash of light consumed his senses.
⚔️ [System Interface – Dream State Accessed] ⚔️
Memory Fragment Unlocked.
In a land without sky, warriors knelt before a blade embedded in a temple. The sky wept. The wind screamed. One child alone stood, lifting the sword of heaven—Tenryūzan.
A voice spoke:
"You are the echo of the will they buried. Awaken, Mythblade."
Toni awoke gasping. His hand gripped the wooden blade tightly, knuckles white. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Shanks groaned from the next hammock. "You okay?"
Toni didn't answer.
Because in that moment, for the first time—
He heard it.
A faint, distant hum from the blade.
Not wood.
Not steel.
But memory.
And destiny.