Sea Cricle Calendar Year 1499
The sea was calm — too calm.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath as the Oro Jackson sliced through the Grand Line, carrying the Roger Pirates toward the unknown.
For years, they had followed clues carved into indestructible stone, chased voices only a few could hear, and crossed seas no sane man dared to dream of.
Now, only one stretch of ocean remained.
But fate, as always, had its own sense of humor.
"Buggy! You're burning up again!" Shanks shouted, kneeling beside his crewmate, who was shivering under a blanket.
Crocus knelt down, pressing a hand to Buggy's head. "Hmph. Fever, mild dehydration. He's fine — just afraid of the unknown."
Buggy groaned dramatically, nose redder than ever. "I-I told you not to sail through cursed waters! This is it, I'm dying! You guys go on without me—!"
Shanks crossed his arms, shaking his head. "You're hopeless."
"Don't be stupid," Shanks then snapped, though his voice softened. "I'll stay behind and look after him."
Roger crouched down beside them, grinning, though his eyes held a trace of understanding. "You sure about that, Shanks?"
Shanks nodded, serious for once. "I'll see it myself one day. The final island. The truth. But for now… I'll wait here."
Ada tilted her head, watching him. "You've got a good heart, Shanks. That'll get you far… if it doesn't kill you first."
Rayleigh smirked. "That's a promise, huh?"
Shanks smiled faintly. "Yeah… I'll keep it."
Roger laughed, the sound echoing through the sea air. "Then guard this fool well, Shanks! We'll bring back a tale the whole world will remember!"
As the Oro Jackson sailed away, Shanks stood at the edge of the island's shore, the wind whipping his hair. Buggy snored loudly beside him.
Shanks' gaze followed the retreating ship until it became no more than a speck on the horizon.
"One day…" he whispered. "I'll go there myself."
————-
The Oro Jackson cut through the waves, guided by the four rubbings of the Road Poneglyphs — their paths converging at last.
The closer they sailed, the stranger the sea became. Lightning danced in the distance, yet the waters remained mirror-smooth. The Log Pose spun wildly before locking in one direction, glowing faintly.
Rayleigh adjusted the Log Pose, his brow furrowed. "It's locked on… but it's glowing. I've never seen anything like this."
Ada's golden eyes shimmered faintly. "It's reacting to something ancient. The world itself might be calling."
Roger's grin widened. "Then we'll answer it!"
The sea suddenly broke into motion — not a storm, not a whirlpool, but a spiral of light and wind, pulling them forward.
And when the light faded… they saw it.
And then, before them — a massive shadow emerged from the mist.
An island untouched by time.
The island, vast and untouched, bathed in sunlight that seemed to fall from every direction. The air shimmered with warmth. The horizon curved around it as though the world itself ended there.
Golden sunlight spilled across it, reflecting off ancient ruins and endless forests. The wind carried laughter — not from the crew, but as if the world itself was laughing.
They had reached it.
The final island.
Roger stood at the bow, coat billowing, eyes wide with childlike wonder. "So this is it… The end of the Grand Line."
The crew disembarked, awe-struck.
They found remnants of a civilization older than memory — cities turned to stone, vast carvings stretching across the land. But no people. No life. Only echoes.
Still, there was warmth in the air, as if the island itself welcomed them.
No words could describe what they saw — towering ruins covered in moss, enormous stone symbols carved into mountains, rivers that glowed faintly under the sun.
There was no treasure in sight. No weapons, no gold — only remnants of a forgotten world that once dreamed too big.
Crocus knelt beside an ancient engraving, running his hand along it. "These markings… they're older than anything I've ever seen."
Oden's eyes widened as he traced a wall filled with ancient text. "This script… it speaks of joy and sorrow. Of a man… of a promise left unfulfilled."
Ada walked beside him, her steps slow, almost reverent. Her eyes scanned the stones, her fingers brushing faint etchings long worn by time. "So even here… the echoes of the past remain."
Rayleigh's voice was barely a whisper. "This place… it feels alive."
Oden moved ahead, eyes locked on a colossal structure in the heart of the island. "There are words here… ancient ones."
Ada followed him, silent, her gaze scanning the markings that covered the stone walls. Her fingers brushed across the writing — smooth yet heavy, as though it carried the weight of every century since its birth.
Roger stood beside them, staring in quiet reverence. "So this is it…" he murmured. "The end of the Grand Line… the truth of the world."
The air seemed to hum, and the crew gathered close — Gaban, Crocus, Rayleigh, and the others. Oden's voice trembled as he read what was written, the meaning dawning on them all.
Their faces shifted — disbelief, then shock, then awe.
And then—
Roger broke into laughter.
At first, it was small, almost a chuckle. But soon it grew — booming, unrestrained laughter that echoed through the island.
Rayleigh stared at him in confusion, then slowly began to laugh as well.
Oden followed, clutching his stomach. Even Crocus's laughter joined theirs, tears glimmering in his eyes.
Even Ada, who had stood silent for so long, couldn't hold back a small, knowing smile — the first in a long while.
The air was filled with joy, disbelief, and something indescribable — a mix of sorrow and wonder.
Ada then stood a little apart, her eyes fixed on the horizon. A faint, almost reluctant smile curved her lips. "So that's it," she whispered. "That's the world's greatest secret."
Roger turned toward her, still laughing through the tears. "Isn't it perfect, Ada? To come all this way… and find this?"
She looked at him for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh of her own — soft but real. "Perfect? Maybe. Or maybe it's just… fate's cruel joke."
Roger wiped his eyes, still grinning. "Hahaha! Then let it be a joke the whole world will one day share!"
Roger caught his breath, wiping a tear from his cheek. "Ahh… Joy Boy, I wish I could've lived in your time. To see what made you laugh like this."
Ada's eyes softened, her voice low. "Maybe fools are the only ones brave enough to dream this big."
Roger grinned at her. "Then that makes us fools too, doesn't it?"
Ada crossed her arms, smirking faintly. "Speak for yourself."
They laughed again, though this time, the sound was tinged with something deeper — the ache of understanding. The weight of history resting on their shoulders.
What they found on that island was the truth.
The truth of everything.
And they laughed.
———————
When they finally returned to the Oro Jackson, the sun was setting — painting the sky in streaks of red and gold. The island glowed behind them, fading into the mist as if it had never existed.
Roger stood at the bow, wind in his hair, eyes closed. "We made it. The final island… the end of our journey."
Oden smiled quietly. "So what do you think, Roger?"
Roger didn't answer right away. Then, softly, he said, "It's more than I imagined… but it's not the end. It's the beginning."
Oden leaned on his swords, wiping a tear from his cheek. "We truly were born too early to see it, huh?"
Rayleigh smiled faintly. "Maybe that's what makes it beautiful."
Roger then looked out toward the endless sea. The horizon burned gold as the sun began to set.
He turned to Oden. "What do you think, Oden? About that island."
Oden grinned, arms crossed. "It's more than I ever dreamed. I understand now why Wano must open its borders. The world needs to know."
Roger nodded, then looked toward Rayleigh and Ada, his tone softer now. "And you two? What do you think?"
Rayleigh leaned against the railing, a rare seriousness in his eyes. "It's too grand for one age to understand."
Ada's gaze was fixed on the horizon, her expression unreadable. "It's not our time yet. The will that built that island — it wasn't meant for us to finish."
Rayleigh leaned on the railing beside him. "And what now?"
Roger smiled, eyes gleaming. "We'll name it."
The crew looked at him curiously.
Roger spread his arms wide. "When we saw what was there… when we understood it all… we laughed, didn't we? Then that's what it'll be called — Laugh Tale!"
The words echoed across the waves — and in that moment, a legend was born.
Ada smiled faintly, standing beside him. "You always did have a flair for names."
Roger turned to her, his grin softening. "Tell me, Ada… what do you think?"
She looked out at the endless sea. "That we're too early. The world isn't ready for the truth we found."
Roger nodded, almost wistful. "Aye… too early. But one day, someone will find it again — someone who'll change everything."
Rayleigh raised a brow. "And who'll that be, Roger?"
Roger chuckled, hands on his hips. "Maybe my son."
Ada arched an eyebrow. "You don't even have a son."
Roger's grin widened. "Then I'll make one before I die!"
The whole crew erupted into laughter again — loud, genuine, unstoppable. The kind of laughter that could shake the heavens.
Even Ada, despite herself, laughed quietly beside them. "You're impossible, Roger."
——————
When the Oro Jackson returned to the island where Shanks and Buggy waited, the two young pirates ran down to the shore.
As the ship drew closer, Buggy's voice rang out, shrill as ever. "About time you came back! You left us here forever, you bastards!"
Shanks grinned, tears already gathering in his eyes. "You really made it, huh?"
Roger jumped down from the deck with his usual swagger, laughing. "We sure did."
Shanks looked up at him, trying to hold back his emotion. "So… you really found it?"
Roger smiled, not answering. His silence said more than words ever could.
Then, without a word, he gave his old straw hat — that same worn, sun-bleached hat — and placed it gently on Shanks's head.
Shanks froze. "Captain…"
Roger's grin softened. "Carry it for me, until the day you find your own answer."
For a moment, even the sea seemed to go still.
Buggy sniffed, trying to hide his own tears. "D-don't go making this all sentimental!"
Ada watched from the railing, her voice low but firm. "You two — keep that fire alive. The world's gonna need it."
Shanks nodded silently, hand gripping the brim of the hat.
Roger stepped forward, resting a hand on his head.
"Shanks… you'll surpass me one day. I know it."
He placed the straw hat onto the boy's head, its shadow falling over his eyes. "Carry this dream until it's your turn."
As the ship set sail once more, Shanks stood at deck of the ship, clutching the hat as the wind blew across the sea.
The sun rose behind the Oro Jackson, casting its shadow long across the horizon — a symbol of the era it had just created.
Thus, the Roger Pirates became the first and only crew to reach the final island of the Grand Line.
The island where everything began — and where the world's greatest laugh was born.
Its name… was Laugh Tale.