Sea Circle Calendar Year 1500
Loguetown, East Blue.
The morning sky was gray — neither storming nor calm, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to decide how to mourn or celebrate the day.
The Oro Jackson, weathered but proud, cut through the fog in silence.
No banners flew, no laughter echoed — only the sound of the sea brushing against its hull.
Ada stood at the bow, dress fluttering in the wind, her eyes fixed on the faint silhouette of an island rising ahead.
Her expression was unreadable, but her chest ached with a quiet heaviness.
"Loguetown," she said at last.
Behind her, Mihawk crossed his arms. "So this is where the Pirate King meets his end."
Ada's lips curved faintly. "No, Mihawk. This is where everything begins."
They docked the ship in a hidden cove at the island's outskirts, where the cliffs concealed the Oro Jackson from view. The air smelled of salt and rain, and the sound of distant bells carried faintly from the town square.
Mihawk leapt to the rocky shore first, his black blade slung across his back. "You sure about leaving the ship here?"
Ada glanced back at the vessel — Roger's legacy, and the last piece of a dream now fading into history.
"It's safer this way. The world isn't ready to see her again."
They covered the ship with tarp and branches, masking its colors from the world, before heading toward town.
They blended in with the growing tide of people. The town was alive — bursting with sailors, merchants, reporters, and pirates who had all come for one reason.
To witness the end of the Pirate King.
Rumors rippled through the air like wildfire.
"Did you hear? They caught him alive!"
"The Marines are executing him in the plaza!"
"The era of pirates is over!"
Crowds pushed and shouted, waves of people all flowing toward the same destination — the execution platform.
Ada pulled her hood lower. Mihawk stayed beside her, his youthful face composed but alert.
"Why are they so desperate to watch him die?" he asked quietly.
"Because they can't understand him," Ada said. "And because deep down, they wish they had his courage."
Every step echoed with the pulse of memories — Roger's laughter, his voice booming across the deck, "Let's turn this world upside down Ada!"
Now his dream was about to ignite it.
They turned a corner — and there it was.
The execution platform stood tall in the center of the plaza, a wooden tower surrounded by marines, journalists, and civilians. The air crackled with anticipation, with disbelief, with fear.
And sitting upon it — was Gol D. Roger.
When they reached the plaza, the world had gathered.
Thousands filled the square — pirates, civilians, and marines, shoulder to shoulder, breathless. The platform rose in the center like a monument of both triumph and tragedy.
He wore no chains heavy enough to hide his pride.
His grin was as fierce and radiant as the sun breaking through clouds.
Even facing death, his spirit burned brighter than anyone in the crowd.
Ada's breath caught.
"…You really went through with it."
Mihawk said nothing — his sharp eyes fixed on the man who had conquered the Grand Line. He could feel it — the aura, the gravity of a man who stood at the pinnacle of the world.
So this was the Pirate King.
Even from a distance, his presence dwarfed everything.
He sat proudly between the executioners, his grin broad and fearless, his red captain's coat brushing the floorboards.
Ada froze. For the first time in months, she couldn't breathe.
"…Captain," she whispered.
Around them, the crowd murmured, whispers turning to roars.
"That's him—!"
"The Pirate King!"
"The man who conquered the Grand Line!"
And among the crowd, Ada's eyes caught familiar figures.
A man with a green cloak — Monkey D. Dragon, his gaze cold, calculating.
Even from afar, Ada could sense it — the storm gathering in his soul.
Closer to the front, two boys stood shoulder-to-shoulder.
Shanks, his jaw trembling, tears already pooling in his eyes.
Beside him, Buggy, pale and furious, trying to hide his shaking hands.
Ada exhaled quietly. "You came after all…"
Mihawk followed her gaze, recognizing them from her earlier stories. "Those two were his apprentices, weren't they?"
Ada nodded once. "His heart lived in them. Maybe it still will."
The murmuring crowd suddenly fell silent.
The sound of boots — clack, clack, clack — echoed across the wooden platform as the guards stepped aside.
Some shouted curses, others prayers. Then, from among the crowd, a voice cut through the noise — sharp, trembling, desperate.
"Hey, Pirate King! Where did you hide all the treasure you found? You got it, didn't you?! The legendary treasure! The One Piece!"
The square went dead silent. Even the seagulls seemed to pause midflight.
Roger lifted his head slowly, his grin stretching wider — wild, defiant, radiant.
His voice rang out clear as thunder.
"My treasure? If you want it… you can have it!"
A stunned murmur swept through the crowd.
Roger laughed — that deep, unshakable laugh that could shake the world.
"Find it! I left everything the world has to offer there!"
The moment those words left his lips — the executioners moved.
Two blades crossed.
A flash of steel.
And the Pirate King was gone.
Silence.
Then, an explosion of noise that shattered the air.
Screams of disbelief and wonder tore through the square.
Even Mihawk's eyes widened, realizing that one sentence had just changed history.
"The One Piece is real!"
"He said he left it all there—!"
"Set sail! Set sail!!"
The crowd erupted into chaos — screaming, crying, laughing, all at once.
Some marines tried to control the mob, but it was too late. A new fire had been lit — unstoppable.
Amid the storm of voices, Ada stood frozen, eyes locked on the now-empty platform.
Her chest felt tight.
Her vision blurred.
A single tear traced down her cheek — not of grief, but of pride.
Mihawk looked at her, confused. "Ada…"
She whispered, voice trembling with emotion.
"He did it… Even in death, he won."
She turned her gaze skyward, where the gray clouds began to break — faint rays of sunlight piercing through.
She could almost hear Roger's laughter echoing in the wind.
"Maybe we were too early, Ada… but someday, someone will carry on our will."
Ada's jaw clenched. "You stubborn fool," she muttered, tears finally slipping down her cheeks. "You actually did it."
Mihawk looked away, unsure what to say.
He had never seen anyone cry like that — not in sorrow, but in awe.
The Great Pirate Era had begun.
—————
As the crowd broke into chaos — some running to the sea, others falling to their knees — Ada turned away from the square.
"Come, Mihawk," she said softly. "Our journey's not over."
He hesitated. "Where to?"
Ada looked toward the horizon, where the rising sun painted the sky in gold.
"To the seas he left behind. The world will soon drown in its own freedom — and someone needs to guide it."
They returned to the hidden cove by sunset. The Oro Jackson waited in silence, half-veiled by mist.
Mihawk broke the quiet first. "He smiled… even at the end."
Ada stepped aboard, fingers brushing the worn rail.
"Of course he did. He always smiled when he was winning."
She turned toward Mihawk, her eyes cold but steady. "This world's about to change, Mihawk. His death was the spark."
Mihawk nodded slowly. "Then what now?"
Ada looked east — toward the open sea, toward freedom.
"Now," she said, gripping the wheel, "we see what kind of world his words will create."
The sails unfurled once more. The wind caught, and the Oro Jackson moved silently through the fog — carrying the last echoes of a legend into the dawn of a new age.
She looked back one last time — at Loguetown, at the echoes of laughter still hanging in the air.
Then she smiled faintly.
"Goodbye, Captain."
The wind shifted, carrying her words across the ocean — lost in the roar of a world reborn.