The Oro Jackson cut through calm seas as the dawn mist rolled off a quiet, unnamed island in the New World. After weeks at sea, the crew was restless — eager for adventure, or at least a solid meal that wasn't salted fish.
Roger was the first to spot land. "Land ho!" he bellowed from the bow, voice booming like thunder.
The crew cheered.
Rayleigh chuckled as he adjusted his glasses. "Finally. If we went another day without real food, I'd have to fight the captain for his lunch."
Gaban stretched his arms. "You say that every island, Rayleigh."
Ada, leaning against the railing, smirked faintly. "Then maybe this one won't explode when we step on it."
Roger laughed loudly. "Only one way to find out!"
The Oro Jackson dropped anchor just off a small cove. The island was overgrown — vines crawling over half-ruined temples, birds screeching in the canopy, the scent of damp earth thick in the air.
Something about it felt old.
The crew split into teams. Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban led one group inland, while Ada and a few others scouted the temple ruins.
"Keep your eyes sharp," Ada warned. "Places like this are rarely abandoned for no reason."
"Relax, Ada," Gaban called from ahead. "If anything dangerous shows up, Roger will just laugh at it."
Ada rolled her eyes but smirked nonetheless.
As they entered the ruins, sunlight broke through the cracks in the moss-covered roof, painting golden lines across the floor. Strange carvings wound along the stone walls — not quite a Poneglyph, but old enough to make Sunbell raise an eyebrow when he saw them.
"This script's ancient," he muttered, brushing dust off a symbol. "Not from any kingdom we know."
Ada's gaze followed the carvings toward the far end of the chamber — where a single pedestal stood beneath a shaft of light.
Something glimmered there.
"Oi, Ada!" Gaban called, crouching beside the pedestal. "You should see this."
She stepped closer, heels echoing softly against the stone floor.
There, nestled in a carved basin, was a fruit — shaped like a heart but covered in sharp, spiral markings that pulsed faintly with light. Its skin shimmered between crimson and silver, almost as if it were breathing.
The crew stared.
"Is that… a Devil Fruit?" Sunbell asked quietly.
Rayleigh whistled. "Looks like one. And not one I've ever seen before."
Roger's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Well, well! What do we have here? A treasure waiting for a soul brave enough to eat it!"
Ada frowned, folding her arms. "You say that about everything that glows."
"Doesn't make me wrong!" Roger laughed.
Gaban carefully lifted the fruit, inspecting it. "No mistaking it. Definitely a Devil Fruit. The patterns, the color — unique type, maybe even new."
Ada took it from him, her gaze thoughtful. "If it's real, it should be in the Encyclopedia."
She reached into her pack, pulling out a worn black book bound with weathered leather — the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, one she had carried since her days under Rocks.
The pages fluttered under her fingers until she stopped. Her eyes scanned the text — and froze.
Pierce-Pierce Fruit (Piasu Piasu no Mi)
A Paramecia-type fruit granting the ability to manipulate and weaponize piercing energy — capable of projecting concentrated kinetic force through any medium. Said to make the user a living weapon of precision and lethality.
Ada closed the book slowly.
"'Pierce-Pierce Fruit,'" she read aloud.
Roger tilted his head. "Never heard of it."
"It was believed to be lost a century ago," Ada replied. "The Marines had a record of it once. The previous user supposedly pierced through a battleship hull with a single hand."
The crew exchanged wary glances.
Roger's grin returned, wild and fearless. "Sounds perfect for you, Ada!"
She gave him a flat look. "You always say that when something's dangerous."
"That's how you know it's good!" he shot back.
They carried the fruit back to camp, the sun high now, cutting through the clouds. The crew feasted around the fire, laughing and shouting as Roger exaggerated every story. But Ada sat quietly, the fruit resting on a crate before her.
Its surface shimmered faintly, as if calling out.
Rayleigh sat beside her, sipping his drink. "Thinking of eating it?"
Ada didn't answer right away.
"I know what happens," she said finally. "You lose your ability to swim. The sea turns against you. For someone like me, that's suicide."
Rayleigh nodded. "True. But power's never free. The question is — do you need it?"
Ada's eyes flicked to the crew — Roger laughing, Gaban arguing with other members, the ship rocking gently in the cove.
She remembered Rocks' words long ago: "The sea only remembers strength."
Then she remembered her parents' voices, soft and distant: "Never let them take your freedom again."
Ada reached for the fruit.
Roger, noticing, grinned. "Well, Ada, looks like you've decided!"
Ada smirked faintly. "If this kills me, I'll haunt you."
"Fair trade!" Roger laughed.
She lifted the fruit to her lips and bit down.
The taste hit her instantly — burning, metallic, sour, like chewing lightning. Her eyes widened as pain lanced through her chest, her heartbeat hammering like thunder.
The fruit fell from her hand as energy pulsed through her veins — blue light streaking across her skin like living circuits.
Gaban moved toward her, alarmed. "Ada!"
But before he could reach her, a shockwave burst from her palms, carving twin grooves into the sand and splitting a nearby boulder clean in half.
The crew froze.
Smoke rose from her fingertips. Her eyes, glowing faintly blue, focused on her hands — trembling not from fear, but from exhilaration.
Ada exhaled slowly, her heartbeat still pounding in her ears.
"I can… feel it," she murmured. "Like every part of me is alive — every breath, every motion."
Rayleigh's eyes widened slightly. "You adapted that fast?"
Roger was grinning ear to ear. "Ha! You've got talent, Ada! You just made yourself even scarier!"
The crew broke into cheers and laughter, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Ada flexed her fingers. A faint ripple of energy shimmered around her hand — invisible yet sharp enough to slice through the air itself.
"Piercing force," she whispered. "Not just through flesh or steel… through anything."
She turned toward the boulder she'd split earlier, lifting her hand. A thin line of energy formed — silent, colorless — then vanished.
The boulder crumbled into dust.
The crew went silent.
Roger blinked. "…Remind me never to make you angry."
Ada smirked faintly. "Good advice."
As the excitement faded and the crew began packing up, Rayleigh approached her again.
"You've changed," he said quietly.
Ada tilted her head. "How so?"
"When you first joined, you only fought when necessary. Now you're… embracing it."
Ada looked down at her hands — still faintly glowing from residual energy. "Maybe I've just stopped running from what I am."
Rayleigh nodded. "Or maybe you've finally found a reason to use it."
She didn't answer, but the faintest smile crossed her lips.
Later That Night
The island slept beneath the stars. Only the soft crash of waves and the creak of the ship filled the silence.
Ada stood alone by the shoreline, her reflection flickering in the water. She raised her hand — energy crackling faintly between her fingers.
She aimed at a distant tree and released a single pulse. The blast pierced through it like a spear of light, silent and precise.
Ada exhaled slowly. "Pierce-Pierce Fruit… guess we're stuck with each other."
Behind her, Roger's voice broke the silence.
"Looks like the sea found a new weapon tonight."
Ada didn't turn. "You mean you found it."
Roger grinned, stepping beside her. "Same thing."
She chuckled softly, watching the stars. "You know, Captain… power doesn't scare me. Losing myself does."
Roger crossed his arms. "Then don't. You're still you — Nyx D. Ada, the woman who terrifies Marines and makes gods flinch."
Her smirk returned. "You really have too much faith in me."
"That's what captains are for."
The two stood in silence, the ocean wind brushing past them — both knowing that something had changed that night.
The world would soon learn of Nyx D. Ada, the Crimson Shadow—
and her name would pierce history itself.