Sabaody Archipelago was a paradise built on rot.
Bubbles shimmered like pearls above sprawling streets, drifting lazily over slave auctions, black-market trades, and the sound of gold changing hands. The light here was beautiful — and cold.
The lights flickered through the mist like scattered fireflies — vibrant, hollow, and humming with sin.
Music from the groves spilled into the air, clashing with the shouts of auctioneers and the clang of metal gates. Beneath the roots of the massive mangroves, the underworld pulsed like a beating heart.
Nyx D. Ada moved through the crowds like a ghost in red.
Her dress — a crimson silk that caught every glint of sunlight — drew stares from sailors and brokers alike. But her eyes, calm and cutting, warned them not to come closer. A pistol rested at her thigh; the sword strapped across her back hummed faintly with dormant Haki.
Ada stepped onto the worn planks of Grove 1, her crimson heels tapping softly against the damp wood.
The crowd parted slightly — whispers trailing in her wake.
Even here, in a place where bounty hunters and pirates mingled freely, her presence carried weight.
Every step echoed a purpose.
"If no one else can cure him," she thought, determination hardening in her eyes, "then I'll find someone who can."
It didn't take long to find the first trail — the underworld always knew more than any doctor.
She slipped into a shaded alley behind Grove 4, where laughter and whispers shared the same space as screams.
"Nyx D. Ada," rasped a familiar voice from behind a half-lit desk. The man was thin, pale, and missing two fingers — one of the underworld brokers she'd crossed paths with back in the Rocks era. "Didn't think you would stroll into my den again. What's a woman like you looking for?"
Ada tilted her head slightly, lips curving faintly. "Disappointed I'm not here to kill you?"
The broker gave a nervous chuckle. "Depends… on whether my name's on your list or the bounty board."
She slid a pouch of gold across the counter. The coins clinked sharply in the silence. "Relax. I'm not here for blood. I need information — a doctor. Someone not owned by the World Government."
He whistled. "You looking to patch someone up or bring 'em back from the dead?"
Ada's gaze hardened. "The second, if possible."
He laughed — until he saw she wasn't joking. "You're serious."
"Do I look like someone who jokes?"
He leaned back, studying her. "You've got guts walking in here alone. People would sell your location for a bounty."
Ada's hand fell idly to the hilt of Rocks' old sword — the gesture subtle, but enough to make the man swallow.
"Do you think I'd walk in here without a reason?" she asked quietly.
He chuckled nervously. "Point taken."
He swallowed. "There's talk of a man — travels the seas, cures the incurable. Used to be a mercenary, they say. But he's… hard to reach. Rumor says he's somewhere near Reverse Mountain. Maybe."
Ada's brow furrowed. "Reverse Mountain…?"
The broker nodded. "But even if you find him, getting there means surviving the Government patrols. And with your name? You'd have to be invisible."
Ada smirked faintly. "I can manage that."
She turned to leave, but the broker called after her, "You're still chasing after the world, Ada. People don't beat the world."
She didn't look back. "They said that about Rocks too."
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"And… Ada."
She looked over her shoulder.
His eyes flicked nervously toward the upper groves — where the slave auctions still ran. "You should be careful. The Celestial Dragons are here this week. They brought guards — stronger ones. The kind that don't bleed easy."
Ada's expression didn't change. "Neither do I."
And with that, she vanished into the smoke.
Night fell over the Archipelago. The bubbles glowed softly in the dark, drifting through lantern light and sea mist. Ada walked the quiet paths along the docks, her heels clicking softly against the planks.
The night grew darker, the air thicker with tension. The world above — the nobles, the Marines, the brokers — turned a blind eye to the cruelty below. It was a place built on chains and blood.
And Ada walked through it like a ghost that had come back to haunt its makers.
She stopped at a narrow street, her instincts sharpening.
A flicker of movement — someone following her.
Not a bounty hunter. Too quiet for that.
She turned, one hand brushing the grip of her pistol.
She sensed the presence before she heard the voice.
"Didn't think I'd see you again," a calm, deep tone said behind her.
Ada stopped mid-step.
The air shifted. The faint scent of smoke and salt brushed past as she slowly turned.
Standing there, half-hidden by shadows, was Monkey D. Dragon.
Eight years had changed him — the boy she'd saved at God Valley had become a man with a storm behind his eyes. The wind seemed to move with him now, carrying quiet power. A long cloak flowed around his shoulders, worn but commanding.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Dragon then stepped from the smoke — black cloak, green sash, and the same piercing eyes she remembered from eight years ago.
"Dragon."
He inclined his head slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "It's been a while, Ada."
Then Ada smirked faintly. "Still alive."
Dragon stepped closer, his gaze sharp. "And you haven't aged a day."
She crossed her arms. "Careful — flattery makes people suspicious."
He smiled just slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "You'd know."
The tension between them felt almost electric — not hostile, but wary, like two blades testing distance.
Dragon broke the silence first. "You're far from Roger's ship. What brings the Crimson Shadow to Sabaody?"
Ada's eyes glinted. "Information. A cure."
"For Roger," he said quietly.
She didn't reply, but her stillness was answer enough.
Dragon's expression softened — just a fraction. "You care for your captain."
Ada exhaled. "He laughs through pain. Pretends it's nothing. I can't watch that."
"Then you're not as cold as you pretend."
She shot him a look. "Says the man who used to believe nothing mattered."
He smirked faintly. "I still don't. Not for myself."
Their eyes met again — sharp, but not unkind. Two people who had learned how cruel the world could be, standing in the same shadow for different reasons.
Dragon took a slow step forward. "You're looking for doctors. I might know a few — not Government dogs. People who treat quietly, for the right cause."
Ada raised a brow. "And what's the price?"
"No price." He looked at her directly. "Call it… paying back an old debt."
Ada's gaze narrowed. "Still remember that night?"
"I never forget people who save my life," Dragon said softly. "Or the ones who make me question what I believe."
Ada tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "And what do you believe now?"
He paused — the wind catching the edges of his cloak. "That the world's rotten to its core. And maybe… it needs people like you to remind it of that."
Her smirk returned. "Careful, Dragon. You're starting to sound like a revolutionary."
He met her gaze. "Maybe I already am."
They moved through the lower groves together — shadows slipping between the cracks of the Archipelago's glamorous surface. Dragon led her to a hidden compound built into the roots of a mangrove tree. Inside, dim lights revealed a clandestine clinic.
Men and women worked quietly under oil lamps, tending to pirates, slaves, and runaways. The smell of medicine and blood filled the air.
A tall woman in a tattered coat looked up. "Dragon," she greeted, tired but sharp. "You brought company?"
"She's… an old ally," Dragon said carefully.
Ada's tone was even. "I'm looking for someone who can treat a disease. Something beyond normal medicine."
The woman frowned. "There's a man in the East Blue — a traveler named Crocus. He's said to be a miracle worker. If anyone can treat something like that, it's him."
Ada's eyes flickered with focus. "Crocus," she repeated quietly. "Reverse Mountain."
The woman nodded. "Aye. But the Navy watches those waters close."
Ada turned to Dragon. "You have contacts, don't you?"
"I can get you a ship," he said. "And a clear path. But after that, you're on your own."
"I prefer it that way."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "You haven't changed."
Ada smirked faintly. "Neither have you. Still think too much."
Dragon chuckled softly. "Someone has to."
She stepped closer — just enough for her voice to lower. "You're building something, aren't you? You wouldn't be here otherwise."
He met her gaze squarely. "The world's falling apart. Someone has to stand against it."
Her expression softened — almost imperceptibly. "Then maybe next time, we'll be on the same side."
He gave a quiet laugh. "You always did pick strange times to sound noble."
Ada turned toward the door, her dress whispering against the wooden floor. "Don't mistake resolve for nobility."
Dragon followed her outside, stopping under the glowing bubbles. The air hummed faintly between them — unspoken tension and shared history.
"You'll find your doctor," Dragon said finally. "And when you do… tell him the world's greatest fool is still laughing.
Ada looked back at him, her crimson eyes catching the light. "I will."
She turned to leave, the wind stirring around her like a living thing. Dragon watched her go — the echo of her heels fading into the night, the crimson shape dissolving into mist and light.
For a moment, he stood still, eyes following the horizon.
"Still chasing impossible dreams…" he murmured.
A faint smile crossed his face. "Maybe that's why the world fears her."