"Sinbad, I'm sorry I can't see the world you would build. Let the waves guide you to a new dawn… remember, don't follow in Joy Boy's footsteps, to fight against the world, you need help… your greatest enemy would be your ally in this battle." She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as her strength continued to fade. Her weakening hand held onto his smaller one with what little grip she could still manage, trying to convey through touch what words could no longer express.
"What if I'm not the one?" Sinbad asked softly, his young voice trembling with doubt and fear as he looked into his mother's fading eyes.
"Then laugh. Don't let your fate control you; set sail and follow your dreams. Be it through sadness, defeat, loss, and death, laugh. We of the D clan always die with a smile." She said with a genuine grin that lit up her face despite the weakness, her expression radiant even in her final moments. But then her arm went weak and limp, falling away from his hand as the last breath left her body, and she died.
Sinbad violently shook the vivid memory off, nearly crying at the emotional weight of reliving that painful moment. His eyes burned with unshed tears that threatened to spill over.
It became painfully clear to him that although he possessed the mind and knowledge of an adult from his previous life, his thoughts, emotions, and personality were going to be heavily and unavoidably affected by the simple biological fact that he was now inhabiting a child's body.
The hormones, the underdeveloped emotional regulation, the raw intensity of childhood feelings—all of it would influence him whether he wanted it to or not.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath that filled his small lungs, he forced himself to calm down and regain some measure of control over his turbulent emotions. He stepped outside the cave slowly, emerging into the bright sunlight that made him squint.
There, just outside the entrance, he saw his mother's grave—a simple mound of earth marked with stones he'd carefully arranged himself. Today was supposed to be the day he had planned to finally set off and follow his dream, to begin the adventure his mother had prepared him for.
His mother had firmly believed he was Joy Boy reborn, destined to become the future ruler of the world and bring about the prophesied change. But he, of course, didn't fully believe that claim for one very simple reason… well, he had watched One Piece in his previous life and knew the story.
He understood what Joy Boy represented and the weight of that legacy. But as he stood there thinking, he wasn't quite so sure about dismissing the possibility entirely as he thought back carefully to everything that had led directly to his mother's tragic death.
After all, Imu himself—the secret ruler of the world—had personally wanted his death with an intensity that suggested genuine fear. Imu had actually run after them months ago, relentlessly pursuing them across the seas.
During that chase, he had badly injured his mother, who had been heavily pregnant at the time and vulnerable. But his mother, despite her injuries and condition, had somehow managed to escape through sheer determination and willpower. She had found this remote island, a place that wasn't under the direct control or surveillance of the world government.
She had given birth to him here on this island, hidden away from everyone and everything, living constantly out of fear of Imu somehow finding them and finishing what he'd started. She had done the absolute best she could to get him ready for the dangerous future that awaited him since… well, Imu would clearly do absolutely anything to kill him, to eliminate whatever threat he represented.
Although she herself didn't fully know or understand why Imu feared him so much, she believed with absolute conviction that Sinbad was the one who had inherited either Joy Boy's or Davy Jones's will and destiny. She had picked Joy Boy specifically for the simple reason that Sinbad had been such a cheerful, laughing kid despite their circumstances.
Sighing heavily, the weight of responsibility settling on his young shoulders, he looked back at the dark cave entrance one final time. He stood at his mother's grave and grieved for some time, paying his respects and saying a silent goodbye.
As he prepared to leave, he also noticed his tail, which he had not paid any real attention to until now in his preoccupation with memories. But he casually ignored its presence, having the flexible tail wrap securely around his waist like a belt to keep it out of the way, and then he set off down the path away from the only home he'd ever known.
But he didn't manage to get very far down the trail until he was suddenly forced to stop abruptly in his tracks when his enhanced senses picked up on something unusual; someone was walking towards him, which was new.
Oh, he had incredibly powerful senses that far exceeded normal human capabilities. From a remarkably young age, his hearing alone had surpassed the capabilities of someone like Daredevil, able to pick up the faintest sounds from incredible distances, which formed a clear 3d picture in his mind.
His eyes were somehow even more impressive, better than any hawk's vision as he could see clearly both in complete darkness and could focus on far away objects with scary, almost telescopic detail that revealed every minute feature.
His sense of taste alone was so remarkably powerful and refined that even without his eyes or ears functioning at all, he could literally taste the world around him through the air itself. The different flavors and chemical compositions would form a complete mental map of his surroundings in his mind, allowing him to navigate and understand his environment through taste alone.
His sense of smell was somehow even more overwhelming in its intensity and scope, so acute and penetrating that even with all of his other senses completely sealed off, just his nose alone would allow him to perfectly see and comprehend the world around him. The scent molecules carried so much information that he could construct detailed three-dimensional images from smell alone.
Lastly, there was his sense of touch, perhaps the most extraordinary of all his enhanced abilities. The smallest vibration traveling through the ground beneath his feet, or even the most subtle shift in the air pressure and currents around his body, formed an extremely detailed and precise image of the world surrounding him.
Every movement, every presence, every object was mapped out through these tactile sensations. Pretty much, he was all-seeing and omniscient within a certain range, able to perceive everything happening in his sphere of influence through multiple redundant sensory systems.
"What is a small kid like yourself doing here?" An old man's voice suddenly asked from nearby, the speaker appearing seemingly out of nowhere from within the dense forest. He emerged from between the trees and eyed Sinbad with a raised eyebrow, his expression curious but not hostile.
Sinbad felt his heart nearly stop as recognition hit him like a lightning bolt. This was Makarov, the Fairy Tail Guild master from an entirely different anime universe. But that was impossible—wasn't this supposed to be the One Piece verse? How could he possibly be standing in the Fairy Tail verse instead?
"Looks like you live here…" Makarov said after carefully scanning both the modest cave entrance and the freshly dug grave from where he currently stood, his experienced eyes taking in the scene and understanding the situation immediately.
A genuinely sad look appeared in his weathered eyes as he looked at Sinbad for a long moment, seeing the loneliness and loss written on the child's face. But then his expression shifted, and he gave the boy a warm, grandfatherly smile while holding out his wrinkled hand in a gesture of kindness and invitation.
Sinbad made a life-changing decision that day and joined Fairy Tail, beginning a new chapter of his existence. By the way, he was only one year old at the time—an infant by normal standards, though far from normal himself.
It was the year 767, many years before the main hitters and protagonists of Fairy Tail would eventually join the guild and make their names. But Sinbad, despite being only one year old chronologically, very quickly shocked the entire guild with his capabilities and maturity.
[A/N: MC is less than a year old, so every time I say he is blank years old, he is 1 year younger as he turns that age at the end of the year. Also, MC would be a monster. The closest person to rival his talent would be the likes of Oden, who, around a few months or even younger, tried to throw a wet nurse across the room. MC would be that, but on a level that would justify Imu trying to kill him. To give you guys a picture of how strong MC is, he is as strong as Luffy when he started his journey.]
How did he accomplish this? Well, within his first week at the guild, a few older kids had decided they wanted to pick on the new arrival and assert their dominance. But they were easily and thoroughly beaten up by the supposedly helpless infant, their attacks meaning nothing.
Even when their embarrassed and angry parents came to confront Sinbad about hurting their children, demanding he apologize or face consequences, Sinbad wasted absolutely no time in beating them up as well and then calmly going on with his day as if nothing significant had happened.
This incident instantly caught Makarov's sharp attention, his interest piqued by this impossibly skilled child. This led directly to him and Sinbad arranging a sparring match to test the boy's true abilities.
"Ready?" Sinbad asked calmly, his young voice light as he held his small fist before his face in a proper fighting stance. He hopped lightly on his feet, his body loose and prepared, his weight balanced perfectly.
Makarov smiled brightly while nodding his agreement, his own stance relaxed and confident. But that smile froze and paused when he saw Sinbad's expression shift—the boy was suddenly grinning widely, completely unable to control his deep hunger for battle and the primal joy of combat that burned in his golden eyes.
With a single explosive step that cracked the ground beneath him, Sinbad burst forward with incredible speed and threw a devastating fist directly at Makarov's face.
The guild master easily dodged the straightforward attack with decades of experience, shifting his head to the side. But his eyes widened in genuine surprise as a knee suddenly appeared at the exact spot where he had dodged to, perfectly predicting his movement.
Makarov quickly twisted his body to dodge again. But Sinbad pressed his advantage relentlessly, pushed forward aggressively, and took full control of the battle's pace and rhythm. His small body moved with frightening precision and power.
'Is it me, or is he growing stronger as he fights?' Makarov thought with growing amazement, his experienced mind noticing the pattern immediately. Sinbad's movements were literally growing faster and more powerful by the second, as if combat itself was fueling his growth.
The Saiyan heritage was already beginning to show itself. He and Sinbad were approximately the same height due to Makarov's naturally short stature, which made their battle almost comically funny to look at from an outside perspective. That was, of course, only if those watching from the sidelines were actually capable of following the blinding speed of the battle taking place before their eyes.