The winds over the New World blew warm and restless — as though the sea itself could sense the nearing of something extraordinary.
On the Oro Jackson, the Roger Pirates gathered around a table in the captain's quarters. The walls were plastered with maps, rubbings, and scattered notes written in Oden's bold handwriting.
They had three Road Poneglyph rubbings.
One from Elbaf.
One from Wano.
One from Zou.
But the fourth — the last piece of the map to the final island — was missing.
Roger tapped his sword's hilt against the table. "We've scoured every legend, every rumor, every whisper from the underworld… and still nothing."
Rayleigh leaned over the maps, brow furrowed. "It's as if the last stone doesn't exist anymore."
Ada stood beside them, arms crossed, her gaze distant. "Or perhaps it's somewhere no one dares to look. The world hides its truths behind fear."
Oden slammed his palm on the table. "Then we'll find it ourselves! Every sea, every island — if we must!"
Roger grinned at that, a wild light flaring in his eyes. "Exactly, Oden! We'll sail the Grand Line again — from one end to the other! If the stone's out there, it'll hear us coming!"
Shanks laughed, slinging an arm over Buggy's shoulder. "Guess that means we're back to square one, eh?"
Buggy groaned. "Square one?! I didn't sign up for this again!"
The room erupted in laughter — but underneath it, excitement thrummed.
The last great voyage of the Roger Pirates had begun.
Months Later
The sky stretched wide and golden as the Oro Jackson tore through the first half of the Grand Line once again. The seas they had once conquered now greeted them like old friends.
Every island they visited felt like a memory — a ghost of the past reborn in laughter and discovery.
The Oro Jackson rocked lazily under a cloudless blue sky. The sea was calm — too calm — as the crew huddled around the ship's log pose.
Rayleigh frowned, tilting his head. "That can't be right…"
The needle wasn't pointing forward. It wasn't pointing east, west, or even back toward the last island.
It was pointing straight up.
Buggy squinted at it. "Maybe it's broken? Yeah, it's gotta be broken! There's no island in the sky!"
Shanks elbowed him, grinning. "Maybe there is. What if it's an adventure calling you, Buggy?"
"Adventure my foot! You go fly first if you're so brave!" Buggy snapped, clutching the mast.
Oden leaned closer, eyes narrowing with curiosity. "The log poses never lie. If it points upward, then the next island must be up there."
Ada crossed her arms, her tone skeptical but intrigued. "An island in the clouds… sounds ridiculous."
Roger's laughter erupted like thunder. "Ridiculous? Then it's perfect!"
He snatched the log pose, holding it up to the sunlight as if it were a treasure itself. "If the sea wants to point us to the sky, then that's where we're going!"
Rayleigh sighed, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You realize there's no ship alive that can just 'sail up,' right?"
Roger's grin widened. "Then we'll find one that can."
Ada shook her head with a small smirk. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Roger said, eyes gleaming like the horizon, "but if there's even a sliver of truth — if the world hides an island above the clouds — I want to see it with my own eyes."
Crocus glanced up at the endless blue above them. "Then let's hope the heavens are feeling generous today."
And as if in answer, the wind shifted — a deep rumble echoed across the sea.
Waves began to churn, the air trembling.
Roger turned toward the horizon, his grin fierce and certain. "There! The sea's moving!"
Rayleigh muttered, "Don't tell me…"
"The Knock-Up Stream," Ada whispered, eyes widening.
Roger laughed, wild and unrestrained. "Then up we go! To the sky!"
———————
Moments Later
"Are you sure this is a good idea?!" Buggy shrieked, clinging to a rope as the sea began to boil beneath them.
Shanks laughed, his red hair whipping in the wind. "You don't question adventure, Buggy!"
The ocean suddenly split apart — a deafening boom erupted as a massive column of water shot toward the heavens.
Rayleigh grinned. "There's our ride!"
"Ride?!" Buggy screamed. "That's a death sentence!"
But Roger only laughed — wild, fearless laughter. "Hold tight, boys! The sky's waiting for us!"
The Oro Jackson hit the Knock-Up Stream head-on. Water exploded around them as the ship rocketed upward.
Waves crashed like thunder. Men screamed, the sails tore, and the clouds swallowed them whole.
For a blinding moment — silence.
Then the world burst open.
The ship broke through the clouds and soared into sunlight, riding a sea of white foam.
Buggy hung over the rail, pale and gasping. "We… we made it?!"
Above them stretched a blinding white sea — the White Sea, floating miles above the world below. The crew stared in awe at the islands built of clouds, the air crisp and shimmering.
A man on a winged steed descended from the sky, lance in hand, armor gleaming gold.
"I am Gan Fall, God of Skypiea!" he announced. "You're from the blue sea, are you?"
Roger smiled broadly. "We're travelers — pirates, if you like! But all we want is to see the world above!"
Gan Fall studied them for a moment, then chuckled. "You have the same look as the first man who came here long ago."
Ada's gaze sharpened. "So the stories were true… about Sky Island"
Guided by Gan Fall and the Skypieans, the Roger Pirates followed the clouds to a forgotten land — overgrown with vines and crumbling ruins.
The Golden City of Shandora.
The towers still glittered faintly beneath layers of moss and dust. Giant statues watched in silence, their eyes carved in ancient reverence.
Oden knelt beside a crumbling wall, tracing his fingers along the stone carvings. "This writing… it's the same as the poneglyphs."
Rayleigh's voice was low. "So the sky itself holds a piece of history."
Deep within the city, they found it — a massive Poneglyph of deep blue stone, half-buried beneath roots and gold.
Oden brushed away the dirt and began to read.
"It speaks of an ancient weapon," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "A being born to rule the sea… Poseidon."
Ada's eyes widened faintly. "The same name as the ancient weapon beneath the sea. It's a warning — and a guide."
Roger stepped forward, resting a hand on the stone. "Then this… connects the sea, the earth, and the sky."
Oden nodded. "A message for those who can hear the voice of the world."
Roger's grin softened — something quieter, almost reverent. "Then maybe it's our turn to add to it."
Following the carvings, they reached the city's heart — where the Golden Bell hung high above, its massive frame shining even through centuries of dust. It loomed above them, carved with waves, suns, and ancient letters.
Gan Fall stood beside them, his face solemn. "They say this bell once rang to signal the dawn of freedom — to reach those below the clouds."
Roger gazed up at it, the reflection of the bell glowing in his eyes. "Freedom, huh…"
Oden approached, resting his hand on the bell's base — and froze.
There, carved into the gold, was another line of ancient text — left long ago by someone who knew the same truths they sought.
Ada's voice trembled slightly. "Another message… it's connected to the poneglyph. The one that says where Poseidon sleeps."
Roger stared up at the bell, the wind tugging at his cloak. "Then let's make sure those below the clouds know we were here too."
He turned to Oden, his tone gentle but firm. "Oden — write this for me."
Oden blinked. "You want me to inscribe something on the bell?"
Roger grinned. "A message. So that one day, someone who can read these words will know that we were the ones who found the truth."
Ada raised an eyebrow. "What words would you leave to history, Roger?"
Roger looked at her — that wild, fearless smile lighting his face. "The ones that matter most."
As the sun broke through the clouds, Oden climbed the bell's golden frame, carving each stroke of the ancient language with his blade. The bell's metal shimmered, reflecting light like fire.
His voice carried through the silent city as he spoke the words aloud, one by one.
"I have come here and will lead this passage to the ends of the earth.
— Gol D. Roger."
Roger stood below, his cape billowing in the rising wind.
He looked up, laughing softly. "Let the world hear it."
And then, as if in answer, Roger drew his sword and struck the bell's base.
A single, deep gong echoed through the clouds —
a sound that carried down, down, through the sky to the blue world below.
The Bell of Shandora rang again for the first time in 400 years.
Gan Fall bowed his head, tears glinting in his eyes. "The bell rings for freedom once more."
Oden descended, breathing hard, his face glowing with pride. "It's done."
Oden then clapped Roger on the shoulder, laughing. "You've just written your name into history, Roger!"
Ada stood beside them, watching the clouds drift by. "The voices of the world will remember this sound."
Roger grinned at her. "Then let them. We're not ghosts yet."
The bell continued to ring as they boarded the Oro Jackson again, its song fading slowly into the horizon — a promise, an echo, and a declaration.
They had left their mark in the sky.
And soon, they would follow the world's voice to its very end.
—————-
Weeks later, the Oro Jackson glided smoothly along crystal-blue waters, sunlight dancing on the canals that crisscrossed the city like veins of gold.
White seagulls soared overhead. The air smelled of salt and sawdust — the scent of Water 7.
"Ahhh…" Roger stretched his arms wide, breathing deep. "It's been too long!"
The city rose in layers, each island tier built upon the other — aqueducts gleaming, carpenters shouting orders, saws humming in unison. The rhythmic pulse of hammers echoed like music.
Buggy leaned over the railing, eyes wide. "This place is insane! It's like a whole city floating on water!"
"Because it is," Rayleigh said with a smirk. "Built by the best shipwrights in the world."
When they docked, workers immediately recognized the famous ship.
"O-Oro Jackson!? That's Tom's masterpiece!"
"Wait, that's the Roger Pirates!"
Excited murmurs spread across the docks as the crew disembarked. At the far end, a towering figure stood, arms crossed, wide grin already splitting his broad face.
"ROGER!"
"Tom!" Roger bellowed back, his laughter booming across the harbor.
The two men met halfway, clapping forearms in greeting — a sound like a cannon shot.
"It's good to see you alive, you madman!" Tom roared. "Every time I hear your name, it's tied to some new legend!"
Roger grinned. "And every time I sail her, I'm reminded she was built by the best damn shipwright on the seas."
Tom's deep laugh rumbled like thunder. "Flattery won't fix your keel, but I'll take it!"
Tom eyed the Oro Jackson proudly. "Still sturdy. You treat her well."
"Better than myself," Roger replied with mock sincerity.
Ada stepped down the gangplank, taking in the bustling city — the architecture, the people, the noise.
"Impressive craftsmanship," she murmured.
Tom turned toward her, curious. "Ah, so you're one of Roger's crew, eh?"
She nodded. "Ada. You built the Oro Jackson?"
"Aye." Tom wiped his hands on his apron. "She's one of my finest works. That ship's got a will of her own."
Ada tilted her head slightly. "Then she suits her captain perfectly."
Roger grinned. "Heh. I'll take that as a compliment — to both of us."
From behind Tom, a small voice muttered, "Hmph. All that noise over a ship."
They turned. A young boy stood with arms crossed, spiky blue hair wild and eyes half-lidded with boredom.
Tom scowled. "Franky! Mind your manners!"
"Tch. They're just pirates," the boy replied flatly. "I build better ships in my sleep."
Gaban laughed. "Oh really? You planning to outbuild the man who made the Oro Jackson?"
Franky shrugged. "If I wanted to. I just don't care."
Buggy leaned toward Shanks and whispered, "What's with this brat?"
Shanks grinned. "I kinda like him. He's got guts."
Roger crouched, eye level with the boy. "What's your name, kid?"
The boy gave him a look like he was unimpressed. "Franky."
Roger's grin widened. "Well, Franky… keep building, even if you don't care. The world always needs ships that can sail where others can't."
Franky looked away, pretending not to listen. "Whatever."
Ada watched quietly, something faintly amused flickering in her eyes. "That one's got a rough edge," she said softly.
Tom sighed. "Aye. He's all temper and talent. But someday he'll build something the sea itself won't sink."
The Roger Pirates spent the rest of the day in the docks.
Rayleigh and Gaban worked with Tom's men to repair the Jackson's hull, while Roger swapped stories with the local shipwrights. Laughter echoed through the canals, blending with the hammering of tools.
As evening fell, the city glowed in orange light. The waters shimmered with reflections of lanterns and molten sun.
Roger leaned against the railing, gazing out over the skyline. Ada joined him, silent for a moment.
"Places like this," he said quietly, "make me believe people can shape their own future."
Ada followed his gaze. "A city built on water, surviving the tides. Maybe that's what the world should be — people adapting, not dominating."
Roger chuckled softly. "Heh. Spoken like someone who's seen too many tides."
"Maybe," she said, eyes glinting. "But I've never seen one that didn't eventually calm."
When it was time to leave, Tom and his workers gathered by the dock.
"Take care of her, Roger," Tom called. "The Jackson's more than a ship — she's a promise!"
Roger grinned, lifting his hand in salute. "And I keep my promises!"
Franky stood beside Tom, pretending not to care — but his eyes lingered on the ship as it drifted away.
Rayleigh waved from the deck. "We'll be back, Tom!"
Tom's booming laugh followed them over the waves. "Then I'll be waiting!"
Ada looked back one last time, the glow of Water 7 fading behind them. "This city will stand for a long time," she murmured.
Roger nodded, hands on the wheel. "Aye. Built on hope — and craftsmanship strong enough to defy the sea."
And with that, the Oro Jackson sailed toward the horizon, chasing the next island, the next mystery… and the last Road Poneglyph that would bring them closer to the world's end.
—————
Months later, the Oro Jackson sank beneath the waves like a dream.
Its coated hull shimmered in the filtered light, bubbles spiraling upward as sunlight fractured through the surface into long ribbons of gold and blue.
The deeper they went, the quieter the world became — until all that was left was the creak of the ship and the sound of the sea breathing around them.
"Man…" Shanks said, nose pressed to the glass. "We've gone under before, but this still gives me chills every time."
Buggy crossed his arms, muttering. "That's 'cause last time, we didn't stop! We just passed through to get to the New World. This is madness—what if the pressure crushes us!?"
Rayleigh chuckled, leaning on the rail. "Relax. The coating'll hold. Besides, think of it — we've been here a dozen times, and not once did we actually see the place."
Crocus nodded, smiling faintly. "Aye. We always used Fish-Man Island as a passage between seas, never as a destination."
Roger, standing at the prow, grinned over his shoulder. "Then it's about time we did! The world's too big to keep rushing through it."
Ada's eyes softened as she looked out at the shimmering glow ahead. "Sometimes the places we pass by are the ones with the most to say."
Rayleigh smirked. "Spoken like someone who listens to everything — even the sea."
Roger laughed. "GAHAHAHA! Well said, Ada! This time, we'll listen!"
"Man…" Shanks whispered, pressing his face to the glass. "It's like sailing through the sky… but upside down!"
Buggy's teeth chattered. "T-this is worse than the sky! If this coating pops, we're fish food!"
Rayleigh smirked. "Then you'd finally be useful to someone."
Laughter echoed through the cabin — even Roger's booming voice shaking the air.
Ada stood near the bow, gazing into the vast blue. "It's quiet here," she murmured. "Too quiet. The kind that remembers."
Roger glanced at her, the reflection of the ocean's glow dancing in his eyes. "Aye," he said softly. "The sea keeps every secret. Even the ones we haven't learned yet."
Hours later, light bloomed ahead — bright, colorful, alive.
"Whoa…" Gaban leaned over the rail. "Look at that!"
Before them lay Fish-Man Island, glimmering like a jewel beneath the waves — coral towers, glowing gardens, and wide stone gates shaped like spirals. Schools of fish darted through the streets. Jellyfish floated like lanterns in the deep.
"It's beautiful," Ada whispered.
Crocus smiled faintly. "A kingdom beneath the sun — untouched by war, yet bound by its shadow."
As the ship neared the entrance, guards emerged — fishmen clad in coral armor, spears gleaming.
A giant, broad-shouldered fishman stepped forward, his long orange hair tied back, his trident resting easily in one hand.
"State your name and your purpose," he said, his voice deep and regal.
Roger stepped down from the deck, grinning. "Name's Gol D. Roger! We're pirates—but don't worry, we didn't come to cause trouble."
The Fish-Man guards tensed, their hands instinctively tightening on their spears. The word pirates carried weight even down here. But before any could speak, the tall, broad-shouldered merman at the front raised a hand. His scales shimmered a deep cobalt beneath the lights.
"Gol D. Roger…" he repeated, his deep voice calm but firm. "I've heard tales of you. I am Neptune, Prince of this kingdom."
Rayleigh whispered to Gaban, "A prince greeting pirates himself? Either he's bold or curious."
Ada smiled faintly. "Maybe both."
They were welcomed cautiously into the palace — its halls vast and adorned with shells, murals, and lights that mimicked sunlight.
Roger's laughter filled the corridors. "You've got style, Neptune! Not even the nobles up there could match this!"
Neptune chuckled, clearly amused by the pirate's unfiltered energy. "Our home is the ocean's gift. We only shape what it gives."
Ada's eyes traced a massive mural depicting the Sea Kings. "You honor the sea well," she said softly.
Neptune nodded, pride flickering in his eyes. "It sustains us — and someday, I hope, it will bring our worlds together."
Roger's grin turned thoughtful. "Maybe sooner than you think."
Roger then stepped closer to Neptune, the sea breeze tossing his hair. His grin was easy, but his eyes carried the weight of countless adventures.
"Neptune," he said, voice calm yet commanding, "we're looking for something here — a stone, a Poneglyph. It holds knowledge we need to reach the last island."
The young prince's eyes widened. "A Poneglyph…? Why would pirates care about them?"
Roger shrugged, leaning on the railing. "Not just any pirates, Neptune. We're seeking the truth the world has hidden. And we've come a long way to find it."
Neptune's fingers drummed nervously against the table, his gaze flicking between Roger, Ada, and Oden. The hall was silent, save for the distant sound of the sea tapping against the coral walls.
"I… I know where it is," he said at last, voice low but steady. "The Poneglyph you seek… it lies beneath the central palace. It's been here for generations, guarded by my family and those before me."
Roger's eyes lit up, the corners of his mouth curling into a grin. "Beneath the palace, huh? Sounds like exactly where we'd expect to find something important."
Ada, standing slightly apart, tilted her head, studying Neptune with that same unreadable expression. "And you're certain of this? No one else has moved it or hidden it elsewhere?"
Neptune nodded firmly. "Certain. The archives are protected — not by traps, but by knowledge of those who serve this kingdom. Only someone worthy of understanding the Poneglyph's history may approach it."
Oden's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Then we must go carefully. The sea has led us here for a reason, and we cannot waste this chance."
As they were shown through the palace, a small mermaid child swam into the hall — wide-eyed, carrying a seashell orb that shimmered faintly.
"Ah, Shyarly!" Neptune greeted warmly. "Where have you been, little one?"
The girl blinked at Roger and his crew, curiosity and uncertainty in her eyes. "Papa says they're pirates," she said softly.
Ada crouched down, her expression unreadable, voice calm and steady. "He's right," she said. "We are pirates."
The child's eyes widened slightly, expecting threat — but Ada's gaze stayed cool. "But that doesn't mean we're here to hurt anyone," she added, almost as an afterthought. "We came to see this place. That's all."
The little mermaid hesitated, then asked, "Even the sea above?"
Ada's lips curved just faintly. "Especially the sea above."
Shyarly's gaze drifted past Ada's shoulder, her pupils shimmering suddenly with light. Her tiny hand trembled. "The sea… it's singing."
Roger and Oden stiffened. Ada's expression shifted — that strange resonance again deep within her.
Neptune frowned. "Shyarly, what is it?"
The little girl's lips parted. "A princess… a princess will be born soon. She'll speak to the kings of the sea."
The hall fell silent.
Roger's grin faded into awe. "Poseidon…" he whispered.
Neptune's head snapped toward him. "What did you say?"
Roger met his gaze — steady, respectful. "Poseidon. The one who can command the Sea Kings. It's a power that sleeps in your blood, Prince Neptune."
The prince's expression darkened slightly — uncertain, wary. "You speak as if you've seen fate itself."
Roger chuckled. "Not fate. Just the path it takes to find you." He smiled knowingly. "Maybe in a few years, you'll have a daughter."
Ada added quietly, "When she's born, protect her. The world above will one day depend on her voice."
Neptune looked between them, torn between disbelief and the strange certainty in their tone. "You speak in riddles… but your words feel like the tide — hard to resist."
The group moved toward the palace corridors, the tension palpable — a mix of anticipation, curiosity, and the silent weight of the final Road Poneglyph awaiting them.
—————
Later, guided by Neptune himself, they ventured deep beneath the palace — to an ancient cavern archive carved in coral and stone.
There, in the heart of the chamber, a towering monolith of crimson stone stood half-buried in the seabed, untouched by time, its surface glowing faintly even in the deep gloom.
Oden exhaled in awe. "Another one… this makes four."
Roger approached reverently, hand brushing the air near its surface. "So this is it. The last path."
Ada closed her eyes. For a moment, she felt a pulse — faint, steady, ancient.
"It's waiting," she whispered. "It's been waiting for someone who could listen."
Oden stepped forward, pressing the rubbing paper against the surface. The sound of chalk echoed through the cavern.
Ada's eyes were locked on the inscriptions. "The final piece," she murmured.
Neptune's voice echoed softly through the chamber. "It has been here since long before my grandfather's reign. None of us know who left it, only that our kingdom was chosen to protect it."
Roger ran his hand lightly along the Poneglyph's edge. "You've done well keeping it safe."
Ada stepped closer. The faint light shimmered on her face, revealing a mix of awe and restraint. "The script hasn't faded," she said. "Kozuki's stonecraft endures even under the sea."
Roger's grin returned, bright and fierce. "Now the path to the world's end is open."
Ada said nothing. She reached into her coat and pulled out a long sheet of paper — specially treated to withstand water.
"Rayleigh," she said flatly. "Hold this steady."
Rayleigh obeyed, pressing the paper carefully against the ancient stone. Ada uncapped a small stick of graphite-like material and began to move it with precise, confident strokes. The sound of scraping filled the chamber — rhythmic, almost ritualistic.
Buggy, watching from a distance, whispered to Shanks, "She's done this before, hasn't she?"
Shanks nodded. "A lot of times."
The rubbing slowly revealed the words and shapes — the lost script emerging like ghosts on paper. Ada's movements were methodical, her expression unreadable. But when she finished, she stepped back and looked at the copy for a long moment before folding it carefully.
Neptune, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke. "You intend to find what this stone speaks of… the true history?"
Roger nodded. "Aye. The world's waiting for someone to hear its voice."
Neptune's eyes softened. "Then may the sea guide you. But… be warned — the world above fears what these stones hide."
Roger grinned. "That's what makes the journey fun."
—————-
When the Oro Jackson submerged again, the glow of Fish-Man Island fading behind them, Roger stood at the bow — silent, thoughtful.
Ada joined him, the currents whispering past. "You hear it too, don't you?" she murmured.
He nodded slowly. "Aye… voices."
Oden turned from the railing, eyes wide. "You mean the ones we heard back there?
Roger's expression softened. "They're alive… talking to each other. The Sea Kings."
Ada closed her eyes. "They're calling to something. Or someone yet to be born."
Roger looked upward — toward the distant light of the surface. "Then the sea's already waiting for her."
For a long moment, no one spoke. The ship drifted in quiet reverence — three souls listening to a world that few could ever hear.
And in that silence, beneath miles of water and history, a promise was made — that one day, those voices would rise again.
——————-
As the Oro Jackson broke the surface, sunlight spilled across the waves, gilding the ship in gold. Ada stood at the bow, her dress fluttering in the wind, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Roger leaned beside her, grinning, his hands resting lightly on the railing. "Four stones," he murmured, voice low but filled with wonder. "All the pieces we need… and now, the sea itself is calling us onward."
Oden glanced at them both, awe and excitement mingling in his eyes. "The final adventure… it begins here."
From below, the crew stirred, laughter and chatter filling the deck, unaware of the quiet weight of the moment. Ada's gaze remained steady, cool, yet faintly reflective.
Roger's eyes sparkled. "Then let's sail. The Grand Line isn't going to wait for us."
And with that, the Oro Jackson surged forward, cutting through the waves — carrying the Roger Pirates toward the final path the world had long hidden.
The voices of the world whispered faintly beneath the waves, and somewhere, far away, destiny smiled.