The Grand Line was quieter than usual — but it was the quiet of tension, not peace.
Roger's final words had shaken the seas. Pirates rose, empires trembled, and the world's balance teetered on the edge of chaos.
The Oro Jackson, scarred by the salt and time, drifted through open waters under a bleeding sunset. The world was still reeling from Roger's final words, and yet here, the air was quiet. Only the sound of waves and the creak of the mast filled the silence.
Once the ship of the Pirate King, it now carried only two souls — Ada and Mihawk.
For months, they had trained together, blades clashing at dawn and dusk, their duels painting the coastline in silver and fire. Mihawk's precision was absolute, but Ada's strength lay in unpredictability — a mixture of elegance and lethality honed by years under two of the greatest captains the world had ever known.
Ada leaned against the rail, the dying light casting her shadow long across the deck. Her coat fluttered slightly in the sea breeze — a lone figure framed by the horizon. Her eyes, crimson in the fading sun, were fixed on something distant — something only she could see.
Mihawk, seated cross-legged near the mast, watched her in silence. The younger swordsman had grown sharper in presence, his movements more refined. For weeks, they had trained, tested, and pushed one another to the edge. But now, something heavy hung between them — the question neither had asked.
Finally, Mihawk broke the silence
Mihawk leaned against the railing, eyes catching the moonlight like twin golden blades. "So what now, Ada?" he asked quietly. "You've seen the end of one age. What comes next for you?"
Ada stood at the prow, coat swaying in the wind. Her gaze traced the horizon — the same endless horizon she had chased under Rocks, and then under Roger. Her voice, when it came, was low but steady.
"I think…" she said slowly, "it's time to make my own crew."
"Your own crew?" he echoed, half in disbelief. "You've already sailed under legends. Why start again?"
Ada's lips curved faintly — not a warm smile, but something sharper, like the edge of a blade glinting in moonlight.
"I've sailed under two captains," she said. "two men who shaped the world in their own image. I learned from both — and both are gone. Now it's time to see how I will shape it."
Mihawk's usual composure flickered with a trace of intrigue. "Two captains? You mean Roger and…"
He paused, already suspecting the answer.
"Who was the first?"
Ada's lips curved faintly — not quite a smile, but a shadow of one.
"Have you ever heard of the Rocks Pirates?"
Mihawk's eyes narrowed. "Rocks D. Xebec… the man who challenged the world itself. They say that crew had monsters — Whitebeard, Big Mom, Kaido…"
"And me," Ada said softly, cutting in. "I was there too. I was the Vice Captain"
For a moment, even Mihawk — the man who feared nothing — fell silent. The sea itself seemed to hush around them. The idea that the quiet, composed woman before him had once stood among such titans was staggering.
"You were part of that crew… and also Vice captain?" he said finally, his tone half disbelief, half respect.
Ada interrupted softly, her gaze returning to the horizon. "I followed him because I thought he could change the world. Then I followed Roger because I realized only those who understand freedom truly can."
Ada looked up at the stars — constellations reflected in her crimson eyes. "I was young then. Hungry. Clouded by revenge. I wanted power. Under Rocks, I learned ambition. Under Roger, I learned purpose."
She turned back to Mihawk, her voice gaining weight. "Now, I'll build something of my own — not for greed, not for glory, but to shape the age Roger left behind."
The moonlight gleamed across her sword as she drew it slightly — just enough for the blade to catch the night air. "The world is heading for darkness. Maybe it's time someone uses the night itself as a weapon."
Mihawk's gaze sharpened. "And what will you call this crew of yours?"
Ada looked up again, the moon haloing her in silver. "The Nyx Pirates."
The name rolled through the air like distant thunder. Mihawk repeated it quietly.
"Nyx, huh…"
He paused, then frowned slightly.
"Why Nyx? Isn't that your name?"
Ada finally turned toward him, her expression unreadable — though something subtle moved behind her eyes. A flicker of meaning. Memory.
"It has another meaning," she said softly. "Nyx isn't just a name. In the old tongue… it means night — the mother of stars and dawn."
She rested a hand lightly on the ship's worn railing.
"Darkness isn't always destruction. Sometimes, it's what gives light a place to return to."
Mihawk was silent for a moment, then gave a small smirk — almost approving.
"A poetic name for someone who's anything but gentle."
Ada's lips curved faintly, her tone dry.
"That's why it suits me."
—————
One evening, Mihawk paused mid-swing, his sword inches from Ada's.
"You mean to challenge the World Government," he said. "Not just sail."
Ada's blade pressed back, unflinching.
"Not challenge," she replied. "Expose. Tear away their false peace — make the world remember what it means to be free."
Their swords separated with a ringing clang. Mihawk gave a faint chuckle.
"Then perhaps I chose the right person to train with."
Ada sheathed her blade and looked out at the sea, her tone quiet.
"Be my right hand, Mihawk," Ada said plainly. "Vice-Captain of the Nyx Pirates."
The words hung in the air like thunder — quiet but heavy with meaning.
Mihawk's expression barely changed, but his eyes sharpened. He wasn't a man easily moved, but this… this was different.
Someone offering him not just command, but trust.
"You're serious."
"I don't waste words," Ada replied. "You seek mastery — and I seek a future. Together, we can build something that neither Roger nor Rocks ever could."
The sea wind howled between them. Mihawk looked out across the horizon, thoughtful.
He'd always believed solitude was strength — that the path of the sword was one walked alone.
And yet, standing before this woman who had sailed with legends, he felt something stir. A challenge. A purpose.
He smirked faintly.
"If I say yes… I don't take orders."
Ada's lips curved just slightly.
"Then I won't give any — unless you need them."
There was a long silence. Then Mihawk finally gave a small nod.
"Fine. I'll sail under your flag… for now."
Ada's gaze softened for a fleeting second.
"That's all I need."
—————-
Morning after morning, their blades clashed — Ada's precise strikes against Mihawk's growing intensity. She taught him Observation Haki, how to feel the breath of an opponent before the strike.
In turn, Mihawk pushed her to sharpen her swordsmanship again — no longer fighting as a follower, but as a leader.
At night, Ada would sit by a deck, drawing new maps of the seas, sketching out routes untouched by the World Government.
Mihawk would meditate, honing his will until even the trees seemed to bow before his focus.
Days later. The wind shifted. Ada walked to the center of the deck and unsheathed her sword fully, raising it to the night sky.
"This ship was once the vessel of legends," she said, her voice carrying over the waves. "It carried the Pirate King to the ends of the world. But now, it will carry me into a new age."
She drove her blade into the deck lightly — a symbolic mark, not of defiance, but of renewal.
"The Oro Jackson sails again — under a new flag."
Mihawk watched as she unfurled a dark banner she had been working on for weeks. It was simple. A black flag with a skull and a white crescent moon in the back crossed by a sword and a pistol — the mark of the Nyx Pirates.
Ada tied it to the mast herself. The wind caught it immediately, and it fluttered like a shadow come alive.
"So this is it," he said, looking up. "The flag of the Nyx Pirates."
"The Nyx Pirates," Mihawk said under his breath. "A name the world won't forget."
Ada turned to him, eyes glinting like molten gold. "Not for a long time."
Ada then adjusted the mast rope, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
"A new night," she said softly. "For a world still asleep."
Ada stood there for a long time, the moonlight outlining her silhouette — the lone captain of a new dawn cloaked in night.
Finally, she whispered to the sea, almost to herself:
"Rocks… Roger… I've carried your legacies long enough.
Now it's time to write my own."
The waves rose, the sails filled, and the Oro Jackson — reborn under a new flag — turned toward the horizon.
The age of Gol D. Roger had ended.
The age of Nyx D. Ada, captain of the Nyx Pirates, had begun.