Five years.
On the sea, that span of time is little more than a few tides rising and falling.
The deck of the Oro Jackson was still bathed in sunlight, but the source of its noise and laughter had long since changed.
"Idiot Shanks! I told you the north side's the end of the Grand Line! You don't even know that?!"
"Shut up, Buggy! Captain Roger said the end of the adventure can't be measured by logic! What if it's in the east?"
Two kids barely tall enough to see over the railing were in the middle of a heated argument over a question that didn't even have an answer.
One red-haired, one blue-haired. Both as loud and restless as a pair of overcharged seagulls.
Kael leaned in the shadow of the main mast, slowly polishing his beloved weapon. The blade shimmered under the sun, reflecting a chill gleam.
Listening to their bickering, he couldn't help but smile faintly.
Five years had passed. He was nearing thirty. Roger had grown into his iconic mustache finally entering his "classic skin."
The world itself had changed since the Battle of God Valley.
Garp had ascended to the rank of legend in a single day. Though he stubbornly refused the promotion to admiral, the Marines honored him with a title instead Hero of the Marines.
A name that now carried even more weight than an admiral's.
As for the remnants of the Rocks Pirates who had escaped that day, they had all become monsters of their own right in the New World.
Whitebeard. Golden Lion. Big Mom.
Once fugitives, now rulers of their own seas.
The ocean had never been more chaotic or more exciting.
Not far away, Rayleigh sat on the steps, reading the latest newspaper with a furrowed brow.
"Zeffar, huh… retired to the sidelines," he muttered, voice low with regret. "Losing his family to pirates broke him. I can't blame him for stepping away."
Kael's hand paused mid-polish.
"Black Arm" Zephyr once a Marine admiral of pure conviction betrayed by the very justice he upheld. A tragic irony if there ever was one.
He set down his blade and glanced at the paper.
In a small corner of the page, barely noticeable, were two names: Sakazuki and Borsalino.
Reportedly the top prodigies of this year's Marine training camp.
Ah, so the "red dog" and "uncle yellow" had finally shown up.
History's wheels kept turning, rolling forward at their own pace.
"Hey! Big bro Kael!" Shanks ran up, puffing out his cheeks. "Buggy says treasure's more important than adventure! Tell him he's wrong!"
"Wrong?! You're the one who doesn't get it!" Buggy followed right behind, pointing an accusing finger. "Without treasure, how are we supposed to buy food?! Or weapons?! You're just a daydreaming fool!"
Kael looked down at the two pint-sized future Emperors of the Sea one a dreamer, the other a realist.
Ah, idealism versus capitalism. Classic combo.
He raised two fingers and flicked each of them squarely on the forehead.
Thwack! Thwack!
Two dull pops later, both brats were squatting on the ground, clutching their heads.
"If you've got that much energy, go scrub the deck. A hundred times."
"A hundred?!" Buggy wailed. "That'll kill us!"
"Then make it two hundred."
Buggy's mouth snapped shut instantly. Grumbling, he grabbed Shanks by the arm, and the two trudged off with buckets and brushes in hand.
Of course, it wasn't long before they were yelling again this time over who was invading whose "territory."
The crew burst out laughing at the familiar sight.
Leaning against the railing beside Kael, Gaban smirked. "You handle those two pretty well. Funny, I remember you being twice as much trouble when you first came aboard."
"Eh? Really?" Kael raised a brow. "Because I distinctly remember someone getting knocked through a bulkhead by Roger the first time we met."
Gaban's face turned red. He coughed twice and quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, where the hell did you pick that Buggy kid up from? I swear, one moment we're resupplying at some abandoned port, next thing I know, you're bringing back that snot-nosed brat."
Kael's mind drifted back to two years prior.
Back then, Buggy had been a ragged street kid scavenging for food among the trash heaps scrawny, quiet, almost invisible.
Kael had brought him aboard mostly out of pity. He never imagined that loudmouthed blue-haired brat obsessed with treasure would one day become… the Emperor of Luck himself.
That realization didn't hit until a certain "accident."
Roger had come back from an expedition, hauling a chest stuffed with glittering treasure. The crew gathered around, ready to divide the loot.
Naturally, Buggy was the first to dive in, hugging a golden goblet bigger than his torso with drool practically dripping from his chin.
Shanks, on the other hand, ignored the gold entirely, digging deeper in search of weapons or adventure clues.
One grabbed outward, the other crawled inward and bam! The heavy lid slammed shut.
A piercing shriek echoed across the deck.
When everyone frantically lifted the lid, they found Buggy clutching his face, tears streaming down his cheeks.
His nose had been pinched swollen, round, and red like a ripe cherry.
In that moment, Kael froze.
No way… the Red-Nosed Emperor himself!
"Hey, Buggy! Look up there!" Shanks' voice brought him back to the present.
Buggy instinctively glanced skyward.
And in that split second, Shanks dumped his entire bucket of dirty water right over him.
Splash!
Buggy stood dripping, stunned for two whole seconds before exploding.
"Shanks!!! You bastard! I'll kill you!"
The two immediately lunged at each other, rolling around the wet deck in a tangle of limbs.
"Kuhahahaha!" Roger's hearty laugh boomed from the captain's quarters. Watching the two brawling kids, he slapped his knee and roared, "Full of energy! I love it!"
Rayleigh sighed, folding his paper. "Roger, if you don't stop them, they'll break the ship in half."
"Kids fight to bond! Builds character!" Roger waved him off, then turned to Kael with a grin. "Speaking of which Kael! Let's spar! My muscles are getting rusty!"
"Are you also a kid?" Kael sighed, standing up and lifting his long polearm.
Five years had changed more than the world it had changed him too.
His mastery over the Wave-Wave Fruit had grown sharper and more precise. His body and Haki had evolved through countless duels with monsters like Roger and Rayleigh.
Resting the blade against his shoulder, Kael smirked. "Alright, but if I win, that barrel of rum you've been hoarding is mine."
"Kuhahahaha! Win first, then we'll talk! And you don't even drink!"
They stepped to the center of the deck. Shanks and Buggy immediately stopped fighting and joined the circle of cheering spectators.
Roger drew his sword, Ace, and swung it casually. A ripple of Conqueror's Haki spread outward, freezing the air with its intensity.
Kael lowered his polearm, its tip brushing the deck.
He didn't use Haki. Instead, he infused the blade with a deep, pulsing resonance.
Then, with no warning, he swung down.
The slash didn't tear through air it sang.
A shrill hum pierced the silence, and the space along its path trembled like the surface of disturbed water before detonating in a thunderous blast.
A shockwave shaped like a phoenix with wings of sound roared toward Roger.
But Roger didn't flinch. His sword blazed with black Armament Haki as he swung down to meet it.
"Divine Departure!"
BOOM!!!
The collision of their powers sent a hurricane of force tearing through the deck. Crewmen were blown off their feet.
Shanks and Buggy went tumbling like rolling barrels, crashing into the mast with a thud.
"Th-that was awesome…" Shanks' eyes sparkled as he stared at the two figures locked in battle, admiration overflowing especially for Roger's legendary move, Divine Departure.
Buggy rubbed his sore backside, glancing from Kael's gleaming blade to Roger's powerful stance… then down to his own mop. For the first time, the boy felt a flicker of interest in something other than gold.
Kael grinned, gripping his trembling weapon tight.
Sunlight. Sea breeze. Loyal crewmates. Two bickering brats. And the strongest opponent he could ask for.
What more could a pirate want?
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