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zorossugarmama · 26 days ago

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Story: Daughter of the Whitebeard Pirates

Chapter: 36

Word count: 7063

Summary: chapter excerpt from my fanfic on AO3.

In a powerful, dream-like vision, you find yourself immersed in ancient, fiery energies, awakening your Haki and reigniting the full strength of your Devil Fruit powers. When you awake in the infirmary, Marco realizes your newfound intensity, and together you face Whitebeard in the war room.

Whitebeard tests your resolve, challenging both your loyalty and your brother Newt's allegiance. Despite his skepticism and the weight of his authority, you stand firm, passionately defending Newt’s value to the crew and your commitment to family. Whitebeard ultimately relents, accepting your alliance. As the crew readies for war, you and Newt share a silent promise to face whatever comes—together.

Haki dreams are weird. It had been ages since Whitebeard had last made you succumb to his strength. Granted, you did break protocol and embarrass him, so his wrath was a little warranted. As the world around you twists and warps, pulling you into a swirling void. You realize you're not fully awake—but you’re also not in the realm of your own soul either, a place between that and something greater. The air is thick with a power that hums against your skin, something far greater than anything you've felt before. Haki, the intangible force of will, has wrapped itself around your mind and pulled you into this surreal vision.

Suddenly, a blaze erupts around you. The fire roars to life in a violent storm of red and gold, forming a towering pillar that stretches into the void above. But even with the fire raging around you, you feel no searing heat, no fear. Instead, you stand calm in the eye of the storm, your breath steady. Your eyes catch a glimpse of your arms—your skin glowing faintly, as if ignited from within. Scars that once marked your body now pulse with a soft, radiant light, like embers from a flame long forgotten. Each mark tells a story, and now, they seem to hum with a purpose beyond the battles that gave them to you.

The sound of whispering, echoing voices begin to swirl in the fire, overlapping and blending into one another, like a chorus of ancient tongues. The words are strange, yet familiar, as if they’ve always been there, waiting for you to hear them.

"As old as the first stars... older than the first sea... destined beyond tides..."

The voices speak of things lost to time and things not yet born. You can’t tell where one thought ends and another begins. Their words flow like a river of forgotten knowledge, sweeping you up in its current.

"...Be wary of time... when lightness and darkness become one..."

As they speak of an eclipse, you see it in the fire. The sky darkens as the sun and moon align, an omen suspended in the heavens. Night and day converging, their borders blurring until they are indistinguishable. The fire flares higher as the voices speak in unison, growing louder and more urgent.

"...A chosen path... A gods’ will..."

Despite the intensity, you remain still, calm amidst the chaos. Your scars continue to glow, brighter now, as if reacting to the words, as if they understand something you don’t. The weight of their meaning presses down on you, not like a burden, but like an invitation. An understanding seeps into your bones.

The voices fade into nothingness as the words "The path of the Gods chosen right will be open..." lingering in the air like smoke.

And then, silence. The fire still burns, but it no longer rages. It crackles softly, a beacon rather than a storm. You stand there, glowing softly in its light, knowing what lays beyond is yours by right.

As the fire around you begins to fade, the flames twist and coil like snakes, slowly unraveling into thin tendrils of ash and shadow. They drift upwards, disappearing into the darkness above, leaving you standing alone. The silence that follows is heavy, but it’s not oppressive—it feels like the calm after a storm. You inhale deeply, the air cool against your skin as the last remnants of the blazing pillar dissipate.

Your eyes adjust to your surroundings, and you realize you're no longer in the place between darkness and lightness– the haze. The charred ground beneath your feet is real, as is the ring of pillars surrounding you—the very same pillars you tore down not long ago. Their once imposing forms are now nothing more than crumbled stone, shattered ruins. These were the pillars inscribed with runes that had bound you, locking away your devil fruit, suppressing the power that surged beneath your skin. Now, only remnants of their power linger, cracks in the stone flickering faintly with fading light.

You step forward, each footfall echoing in the silence. And then you see it—looming before you, like a shadow rising out of the rubble.

Your devil fruit.

Once, it had been a small chick, fragile and unassuming. But now, it stands before you, massive and ominous, its shape larger and more foreboding than before. The air around it seems to hum with energy, a power that feels ancient and untamed, almost as if it has been waiting, growing in the shadows, for this very moment.

Your breath catches in your throat as the form shifts and stirs. From the ashes at its base, the little chick that once bloomed—small, delicate, and fragile—has transformed. It’s no longer the vulnerable creature you had cradled. Instead, a large bird emerges, its wings wide and proud, its feathers shimmering with a soft orange glow, like the embers of a dying fire. The tips of its feathers burn with a radiant red, brighter than anything you've seen before, as if the very flames that had surrounded you were now part of it.

The bird trills, a sound that resonates deep in your chest, not unlike the voices from your vision. It’s a call, a reminder of the power that has always been yours. Its eyes, glowing faintly, meet yours with an intensity that makes the ground beneath your feet feel unsteady.

Then, without warning, it spreads its wings and takes off into the sky. Its powerful form ascends swiftly, each stroke of its wings stirring the air like the rush of a storm. You watch, entranced, as the bird rises higher and higher, a beacon of fire against the darkening horizon, until it becomes a distant point of light.

You stand in the remnants of the ruined pillars, the silence pressing in once more. But this time, it feels different. The binding runes are broken, the dream has passed, and the power of your devil fruit has awakened, larger and more fearsome than ever before. The path ahead feels uncertain, yet the air buzzes with possibility.

“Holy fucking shit…” You mutter as you watch your awakened devil fruit fly through the air. You race through the brush a huge grin plastered on your face as you reach the beach that laid before the island. Your bird was huge and it glided through the air effortlessly as you stood amongst the sand. It rounded a couple times in the setting sun before it perched itself behind you, on the edge of the forest line. It ruffled its feathers and it stared at you.

Where you stood now, you had come to call it your soul's core. It was where you had come often during Shanks training trying to reach past the raging sea and into that void where your soul fire stood. As you looked back at your devil fruit you thought it was odd, that it hadn’t grown its usual soft brown feathers but that wasn’t high on the list of things you were worried about. You noticed that it never stopped looking at the sea in front of it. You could feel it assessing, thinking, but you didn’t know what of. You combed your hands through your hair and sighed. You tried waking but it was no use, he had knocked you out cold. So you just sat at the edge of the beach looking out into the horizon. Languid clouds drifted by and the sea was rather calm.

The rising sun was slowly casting hues of reds and oranges across the sky.

If you were going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future you would at least try to practice getting to that void that was below the sea. Standing up you looked back at the bird and then back to the calm seas. This sea was a challenge. You scowled and smiled widely as you began to undress. You wondered briefly if the clothes really mattered but you were already stripping down to your underwear. The bird spoke in a singular high pitch trill at you softly and you smiled even wider— at least it was talking to you now. It had been silent ever since you dropped down into this realm.

“I will tame this sea if it is the last thing I do…” you muttered quietly as you discarded the last of your clothes. You took a step forwards and the cold touch of the water set a tingling feeling up your spine. The water was different this time, you continued to step further into the icy waters and that same tingling feeling seeped into your skin and licked at your bones. It felt familiar, like it was the same feeling that coursed through your body when Whitebeard tried to calm your aching nerves, or the feeling of his command when he was done with your antics. It was like this sea was infused with his command.

“It can’t be…” This water was infused with Whitebeard's command, it tingled and forced your conscious to step out of the waters. Was this the effect of a command on the soul? It had to be…

But, if this was the effect of a command on the soul then why was it only allocated to the waters? Your mind was racing now. You had thought that this entire place was your soul, yet, haki commands were directly tied to one's soul. If that were to remain true…

“It is, isn't it?...” You spoke quietly as you stepped back.

This raging sea, this turmoil of chaos and fury. It had to be your soul. Your fists balled as you screamed. It all made sense now, why you could never reach the void. This sea, this vastness of pure rage was your soul. You kicked and you thrashed at the sand. Your fury is mirroring itself within the raging sea before you.

“Fucking hells below, I am such a fucking idiot!” you screamed. The tension within the sea grew higher and higher with each scream. You were falling apart. It was such an easy thing to figure out how, how could you have been so stupid to miss it.

The bird behind you chirped and cawed in response. Yet you paid it no mind.

You stepped out of the waters and back onto the sandy beach. You needed to calm down, it wasn’t going to help you, your rage. The bird behind you cawed once more as if to disagree.

You sighed deeply and pushed aside the anger and looked at the bird.

“What is it?” you asked it.

It ruffled its feathers again. You felt it within you, a sort of patience that wafted from the bird. It could not speak but you had been with this devil fruit for your entire life that you could essentially understand what it was saying.

“Patience isn’t really an option right now, we’re headed into war and I’m stuck here like a child in time out…” You grumbled. You were drifting between emotions again. The happiness you felt while running through the brush had instantly dissipated into nothingness as you threw a tantrum at the sea. You needed to get a grip. The bird before you lowered its head and trilled at you again. For the first time you saw a glint of something more motherly in its gaze.

The tension in your shoulders lifted as you sighed again. You walked up to your bird and placed your hand on its head. It was so warm to the touch.

You needed to have faith that by whatever cruel joke the Gods decided to play on you that it was for something far greater than you could ever imagine. That your life was worth so much more than what you had originally thought. For fuck sakes, your haki, your devil fruit, your fucking will for seas sake was back. It was back with a fervent passion that it boiled in your body and filled you with a conviction that you hadn’t felt before. It was a conviction that despite it all you would see the end of the horizon, no matter the cost.

You thought back to the first time you were hit with what you now realize was a weapon filled with the sedative that Caesar Clown had used on you, it had nulled your haki for a short period of time that it rendered you useless on the field long enough for you to get your ass beat. It didn’t help that those damn bastards also stuck a fucking sea-prism stone javaline pole through your shoulder to keep you from flying away. Your shoulder ached at the thought but that was ages ago. It was when you first encountered the change in warfare between pirate crews. Fuck even the marines could stand to use those weapons to achieve the chance of creating a world in their vision. It was then in those few moments on the field, far away from everyone else that you experienced what it was like to feel utterly hopeless for the first time since leaving Mary Geoise. It was from then on you devoted yourself, unconsciously, to feel freedom wherever you could. However, Whitebeard after seeing you ravaged on the field had grown worried, and riddled with guilt for letting his only daughter get hurt that he had kept you on board the ship. Without care of your own desire to be free. Now, after the same, but exceptionally worse, incident with the clown you had consciously devoted yourself to find your freedom, despite the unwillingness of your captain. That was another hurdle you needed to get over.

For a time you mind whirled with pathways, trying to figure out the best course of action, but you never were the best tactician. Always running headlong into the fray without worry; reckless. Maybe you should just take your faults in stride and carry them with the same conviction rather than trying to change them? Instead of seeing them as failures, to see them as a means to bolster your strength? Yeah, that was a good start.

As you stood in front of your bird it leaned down and nudged your cheek carefully, it was like a hug. You smiled and you leaned into it softly.

I am the counterpart, the peace, the wisdom of your soul. A voice trilled as the devil fruit powers radiated from your bird– like an agreement made at first dawn. While you are the counterpart, the rage, and recklessness of your soul. You gasped softly as you felt the slow pulse of power radiate from your bird, like it too had its own source of haki– but it wasn’t haki, it was raw power, strong, and unyielding.

Together we are the lightness and darkness, life and death itself. You laughed as you tried to understand what it was saying. You wanted words to drift from your mouth as the bird stood tall before you. Yet, you came up short.

“Together, we are the breath of resistance and the air of freedom.” You muttered softly as your bird flapped its wings, the sand wafting into the air with the gust of wind it generated. You didn’t need to understand, you just needed to trust that this would work. It felt right, so you went along with it.

You turned towards the sea once more and smiled wide, a hearty laugh escaping you, as you took in the rising sun. The words you spoke next bubbled within you as you stared at the dawn with a surge of power you haven’t felt before. This was your start. Your beginning. A new dawn.

“I call to the heavens, the divine celestials of my time, hear me and bear witness as I show you the strength of your God's chosen right!” You yelled into the air as your bird took off with one push and glided across the sea. Under it the raging sea parted and you ran forwards towards your festering and fiery will that was locked below the sea. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face as you rushed towards that void. Without fear you dropped in, the jagged and sharp edges melting away as you dived towards those flickering flames. It was like the dimensions themselves collapsed into nothingness as you fell? Floated? You drew close and once you touched those burning hot flames it was like your consciousness shifted with a steady pure and radiant ring of light that expanded outward and calmed the raging sea above and blew away the clouds. Leaving behind a calm, flat sea above with a light blue sky that stretched on for ages. The flame that was locked below the surface of the sea seeped into your skin as you were pulled to the surface. You weren’t scared, or worried about where the flame had gone because you could feel it burning within you.

You were the manifestation of your will. For once, it wasn’t an unattainable entity locked away.

—

You woke with a sharp gasp, your chest rising as if you'd been pulled from the depths of some unseen ocean. The infirmary around you slowly came into focus—the sterile smell of medicine, the quiet creaking of the ship beneath you. But something deeper stirred inside, a heat that pulsed through your veins, coiled and restless. It wasn’t just Haki—no, this was something far more profound. You could feel it, the sweltering power that had been locked away for so long. Alongside that sweltering power you could also feel your fruit and the slow lick of haki along your bones.

Before you could make sense of it, the infirmary door swung open with a crash. Marco stood in the doorway, his usually calm face stricken with shock, eyes wide and breath coming in short, uneven bursts. He didn’t speak, just stared at you as though he was seeing something that shouldn’t be possible. There was a swirling surety in his gaze as he stepped forward, each footfall slow and measured.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice steady, even as your mind raced. You dangle your feet over the side of the medical bed, feeling the cold hardwood floors beneath your feet. Your heart was pounding, that was when you felt something tug within you softly, towards Marco.

Marco’s voice was barely a whisper, tender and trembling. “You’re back…”

“I never left,” you replied, frowning slightly, a tight laugh escaping you. Though subconsciously you understood. You understood that you werent the same anymore. That this heat, this sweltering urge within you was in the place where you had felt rage before. You tried to remember the dream before waking up, you tried, but it swiftly carried away by the slow rocking of the sea.

His blue eyes, usually so composed, flickered with emotion as he moved closer. “Your fruit... it’s back.”

You blinked, the realization settling in like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river. Marco cupped your face, his hands warm and trembling slightly as he gazed at you with an intensity that made the world seem small and quiet. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was searching, feeling the truth for himself, as though even now, he didn’t quite believe it.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his voice barely louder than the creaking of the ship.

“I think... it awoke,” you murmured, your voice distant as you looked into his eyes. The raw power, once stifled and bound, now burned beneath your skin, a living thing that pulsed with a rhythm of its own. "It feels much stronger now."

As you stared into Marco’s eyes, something tugged at you, a feeling unlike anything you’d ever known. It was soft, but strong—laced with a power that hummed with a shade of blue, almost familiar, like the flames that Marco himself wielded. The air between you thickened, charged with an energy that made your pulse race.

“What’s this feeling?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. It was as if the very power you wielded resonated with him, tugging at something deep inside.

Marco released you, stepping back, his breath steadying but his gaze still far away, as if something beyond you both had stirred. “We should head back up…” His voice trailed off, as though his mind was elsewhere, lost in the same unease that had gripped him when he entered the room.

You felt it too, that distant pull of something greater, something waiting on the horizon. The fire inside you was no longer a quiet, slumbering ember—it was awake, and with it, a raging passion that had only just begun to unfurl. Your start was here.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the strange, electrifying feeling crawling beneath your skin when you looked at Marco and nodded your head. The surge of power was hard to ignore, but you pushed it down, focusing instead on the present. You slipped off the medical bed, your feet hitting the cold floor with a soft thud.

"Yeah, you're right," you said quietly, following Marco out of the infirmary. It felt all too familiar—walking behind him, always just a step behind. There was comfort in it, but also a sense of inevitability, like your place had always been in his shadow. As you trailed him, thoughts of your brother gnawed at the edges of your mind. He was on board, last you’d heard, but the uncertainty twisted at your gut. You couldn’t help but wonder if Whitebeard had finally gotten what he wanted.

The thought made your Haki simmer, the familiar energy of your fruit swirling restlessly inside you. The flames that had come to life in your vision flickered, as though feeding off your unease. You quelled them with an ease you hadn’t had before. The sea is now under your control.

“Everything is fine, don’t worry,” Marco’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, a quiet coo meant to soothe. His tone was calm, but you could feel the weight behind his words, the tension that still lingered. He hadn’t looked back, and yet, it was as if he knew exactly where your mind had gone.

You nodded, though the feeling didn’t fully leave. Things were changing — too quickly, in fact. You couldn’t shake the idea that this sudden shift in your power, the awakening of your fruit, was linked to something deeper. Was it your will? Your desire to start fresh, to claim a new future for yourself? It felt like your determination had taken root inside your fruit, forcing it to evolve alongside you.

"You sure?" you asked, forcing a small laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. "I haven’t been knocked out like that in a while."

Marco chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well... you never do things quietly. But your brother is still here. Whitebeard wasn’t impressed, but he didn’t kill him.”

Relief washed over you, and for the first time since you woke, you let out a real breath. The smile that stretched across your face was involuntary, the kind that came when a weight had been lifted from your chest. Your brother was alive—and part of the Revolutionary Army, no less. To think that that same little boy who coward behind you was out there still, and a part of something bigger no less. Though, your heart still ached for the boy who couldn’t help.

"He was the one who helped me when I was in Caesar’s lab," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It was strange to speak of it now, that dark chapter of your life mere weeks ago, but it felt right somehow. The swirling energy of your fruit trilled softly within you, as though it were responding to your memories, to the thoughts of your brother and the fire that still burned within both of you. You remembered Shanks had told you when you were still on the Red Force; of a man who looked eerily similar to you. You had pushed it from your mind in hopes that you wouldn’t dwell on it, and now, it was all but confirmed for you.

Marco’s shoulders stiffened at your words, and he stopped walking. His posture told you everything—you didn’t need to see his face to know that the mention of Caesar struck a nerve. He turned slightly, eyes flickering with something unspoken, as if he could sense the power of your fruit radiating from you now, stronger and more alive than it had ever been.

As you walked through the lower deck of the Moby Dick, the familiar creak of the ship beneath your feet grounded you, even though your mind was still clouded by the intensity of what you'd just experienced. You looked over at Marco, your thoughts still muddled from the dream-like realm you’d been trapped in. “How long was I out for?”

The question lingered in the air as you tried to make sense of the fragmented images—the sea of your soul, the void beneath, the sun rising and setting over what felt like hours of battle between yourself, your devil fruit, and the raging sea . You had touched something profound in that space, something raw and ancient, it coursed through you now in the form of your bolstered haki and awakened devil fruit.

“You’ve only been out for an hour,” Marco replied, his voice steady, though he didn’t turn around. "Pops is waiting for us in the war room. Every commander is there, along with the Red-Haired Pirates... and your brother, with his advisors."

His words struck like a lightning bolt, and you couldn’t help but tense. The war room. Whitebeard. Shanks. And Newt. You weren’t just stepping back into the fray—you were about to be tested, and you could feel it in the weight of Marco’s words. He hadn’t looked back, but the tension in his shoulders hadn’t left since you woke. Something hung between you, unspoken but heavy.

“You’re to make your case before him and everyone else,” Marco added. “Why should you let Newt join our fight?”

Your mind whirled as you tried to piece it all together. Make your case—the words sat heavily in your chest, as if the odds were already stacked against you. You scowled, crossing your arms as the frustration began to seep in. Was Pops testing your loyalty, your strength? It felt like he wanted you to fail, to stumble before the commanders and the other pirates, to fall short when it came to defending your brother.

“Such short notice…” you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure closing in. Your head buzzed with thoughts on how you could even begin to present your case.

“I know,” Marco said softly, his tone gentler now. “But Shanks and Newt have already given their report on what happened to you in the facility. You just need to recount how you know him.”

How you knew him. Your brother. It seemed so obvious to you—Newt was the one who stitched you up in Caesar’s lab. He was the one who handed you off to Shanks, saving you from whatever nightmare you’d been dragged through. What more could there be to say? You were siblings, bound by blood and the same fire that raged within both of you.

But it wasn’t about the simple facts. Whitebeard was testing you, seeing how you’d navigate this. He was watching to see not only the knowledge you held, but the strength of your conviction, of your determination to stand by your brother’s side. You could feel it in your gut—this wasn’t just about Newt. It was about you. You were being challenged. So you solidified within yourself to give Whitebeard the best fucking defense you could.

You took a deep breath as you approached the war room, the weight of the coming conversation settling over you like a thick fog. Your thoughts swirled, but in the midst of the uncertainty, there was something burning deep within you—the same fire that had awakened your fruit. You would have to harness it, to prove not only to Whitebeard, but to yourself, that you were ready for whatever lay ahead.

Stepping up beside Marco, you square your shoulders. “I can do this.”

The tension hit you like a wave the moment you stepped into the room. The round table stretched before you, hollow in the center like an arena waiting for the next clash of wills. At the head of it sat Whitebeard, his massive frame practically vibrating with the weight of his presence. His gaze snapped to you, and you could feel the force of his Haki immediately—heavy, oppressive, the kind that made your bones tremble even as you stood tall. It was clear: he was pissed. More so, he was thinking, waiting, possibly hoping that you would come out of this with the same sense of conviction he saw in you all those years ago. The same conviction that was smothered by the celestial dragons and their cruel games.

The Whitebeard commanders lined either side of him, faces grim and unreadable. To your left, Shanks lounged in his chair, a calm contrast to the storm brewing around you. To your right, Newt sat with his advisors, his expression neutral but his eyes flicking toward you. Both Shanks and Newt nodded, subtle acknowledgments, but their presence was like a ticking clock—a reminder that this wasn’t just about you anymore. They were watching, and waiting.

Marco had slipped from your side and taken his place at Whitebeard’s right, the very picture of a proper first son and commander. He didn’t need to say anything—his stance alone conveyed his loyalty to both you and his father, but the unspoken message was clear: this was your battle to fight.

“Step to the center, child,” Whitebeard’s voice rumbled like thunder, shaking the air and rattling through your bones. The sheer weight of his command made the room feel smaller, his Haki wrapping around you like a vice. There was no denying it—he was challenging you, testing your resolve.

You gave a stiff nod, a formality more than anything, and stepped forward. The heat in your veins simmered, your fruit swirling under your skin, but you kept it in check.

Minutes passed, and you found yourself locked in a verbal battle with Whitebeard. What began as a calm exchange quickly escalated as the tension snapped. You had tried to keep your temper in check, to hold back the fire building inside you, but Whitebeard was relentless. His words were sharp, his accusations biting. He didn’t just question Newt’s worth—he doubted your judgment, your resolve. He pushed and prodded, testing you in the way only Whitebeard could, his towering presence demanding answers, demanding to see if you would crack.

Your voice rose, frustration boiling over as you shouted at him, your composure slipping just enough to reveal the fire you’d tried to suppress. “Newt’s information is worthy! He saved me! He’s not just some outsider—he’s my brother!” you barked, your words laced with emotion you hadn’t intended to show so freely.

Whitebeard didn’t flinch, his eyes hard as ever. “Blood alone isn’t enough. Trust must be earned, and right now, I see no reason to trust him. Or you.” His voice cut through the room like a blade, making the tension even thicker.

There it was. The test you’d known was coming. In the past, his words would have shattered you. You would have stormed out of the room, furious and reckless, desperate to prove yourself through action rather than words. You would have flown out into the open sky, letting your temper guide your fists, doing something impulsive just to make a point.

But not this time.

"Newt is not an enemy of the Whitebeard Pirates! He’s willing to cooperate with this alliance and share everything he’s learned about Blackbeard and his plan to erase Devil Fruit powers from the world," you said, your voice ringing with conviction.

But Whitebeard’s glare remained cold, unyielding. His next words hit you like a gut punch, cutting deeper than you expected. "You expect us to take the word of a man who comes from the same blood as you." It wasn’t just a question of trust in Newt. No, this was a direct challenge to your loyalty, your worth as a whitebeard pirate. A shot at every failure you’d had, every mistake you’d made since joining the crew.

"You’ve shown me time and time again that you’re untrustworthy," Whitebeard continued, his voice heavy with disappointment. He lifted a hand, gesturing toward Newt, whose face had paled from the sheer pressure of Whitebeard’s Haki. "Where’s the proof that I can trust you? And by association, him?"

You could feel the weight of Whitebeard’s Haki pressing on the room, an overwhelming force that made it hard to breathe. Newt wasn’t pushing back with his own Haki, that much was clear—he wasn’t trying to challenge Whitebeard head-on. But you? You couldn’t just stand there and let this accusation go unanswered.

"You don’t need proof!" Your voice rose, defiant, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the tension in the room shift as you spoke, your words cutting through the oppressive silence. "The fact is, it doesn’t matter what we perceive him to be. The men here, the ones willing to fight, came onto this ship without arms. They brought no means of escape. They came with nothing but a singular vessel, carrying only the men necessary to support our cause."

You gestured to Shanks, who was sitting calmly, listening but not intervening. “To put it plainly, Shanks was the one to meet with him. And Newt—he helped me when Shanks couldn’t. That’s an irrefutable fact.”

Your voice was loud, unwavering, echoing in the war room. For the first time in your life, you felt something surge inside you—a rush of excitement and nerves, a heady mix of determination and fire that burned brighter with every word you spoke. This was it. This was the moment you would stand your ground, even against Whitebeard himself.

Whitebeard’s gaze shifted to Shanks, his eyes narrowing, searching for any hint of deception. But Shanks, ever the calm in a storm, only smiled, nodding in confirmation of what you’d said. He gave you a brief look of approval, a silent acknowledgment that you were standing on solid ground.

But Whitebeard was unmoved. His expression didn’t soften, his judgment still heavy and unrelenting. You could see something dark flicker behind his eyes—guilt, perhaps, or the weight of his own past mistakes. He wasn’t just questioning you or Newt. He was questioning himself, his own judgment, and the consequences of keeping you on board when you should have been allowed to grow from your mistakes.

"You’ve been reckless before," Whitebeard rumbled, his voice lowering. "Why should this time be any different? You speak of trust, but trust isn’t given freely—it’s earned."

You straightened, meeting his gaze head-on, the fire inside you refusing to be snuffed out. "I’m not asking for blind trust. I’m asking for a chance. A chance to show you that this time, I won’t let you down. Newt won’t let you down."

The silence that followed was deafening, every eye in the room locked on Whitebeard, waiting for his verdict. His Haki still pressed against you like a wave crashing against the shore, but you stood firm, refusing to bend. You had buckled to a raging sea before, you would never do the same again.

Whitebeard’s voice boomed through the war room, his words as fierce as the crashing of waves against jagged rocks. "I will not be swayed by the voice of a child!" His Haki roared, shaking the air around you, filling the room with his unyielding will. "For too long, you’ve allowed yourself to tread a thin line on my crew. You are my daughter, and I will not watch you succumb to your own recklessness."

It cut deep, the weight of his words hitting harder than any physical blow. You knew what this was—this wasn’t just about Newt or the alliance. It was fear. Pops was terrified of losing you, just as he’d lost so many before. His Haki radiated with that fear, thick and suffocating, wrapping around you like chains. This was a father’s fear, the guilt that weighed on him. You could see it in the way he stared at you, his jaw set, his eyes aflame with something far deeper than anger.

But you weren’t backing down. Not now. Not when everything was on the line.

"I am a Whitebeard pirate," you shouted, your voice ringing with defiance, "and I have dedicated my heart to live freely among my family! I will die for this cause if it’s the last thing I do! Newt is my family, and if we use his men in the fight ahead, our victory will be undeniable!" You stood tall, your chest heaving with the fire surging through you. "For the sake of this world, for the sake of my freedom and my family’s, I will advocate for his strategic value!"

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, one of the commanders spoke up, his voice cautious but firm. "Whitebeard, their words are worth considering. We don’t know what power Blackbeard holds. If their capture with Caesar is any indication of the threats we face, it would be wise to listen to their brother."

Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed, his voice like thunder again as he silenced the commander. "Quiet. As captain of the Whitebeard Pirates, I swore a duty to protect my family from any danger that may come upon them! I will not be swayed by the voice of a child."

A child. The word stung, but you wouldn’t let it tear you down. You were no longer that reckless kid who sought validation through chaos. You had faced your demons, conquered the sea within your soul, and stood stronger because of it. You weren’t going to let him dismiss you so easily.

"I am no longer a child!" you roared back, stepping closer, your Haki flaring in response to his. "I know I fucked up! I know I was careless while serving under you! But you need to listen to me. Newt is a valuable asset for our fight—for victory!"

Your blood pounded in your ears, your heart racing with a wild, unstoppable energy. This was it. The moment that would set you on a new path.

You took a deep breath, your voice steady and resolute. "Let this be the action that sets me forward on a new path. I will challenge anything—anyone—that stands in my way of freedom. My freedom belongs with my brother, with my family, and with myself. I will do anything in my power to attain that freedom."

You locked eyes with Whitebeard, unflinching, daring him to see you as more than the reckless child he once knew. You weren’t asking for permission anymore. You were demanding it. Demanding that he see you for who you had become.

For a moment, the room was silent, the air thick with tension. Whitebeard’s gaze bore into you, fierce and unrelenting. But you didn’t waver. This was your fight, your stand, and you would not yield.

Finally, Whitebeard sighed, the fire in his eyes flickering as he leaned back in his chair. "Very well," he rumbled, his voice quieter now but still heavy with authority. "You’ve made your stand. Let’s see if you can back it up."

As the door to the war room burst open and the pirate from Marco's division shouted, "The allies have responded, we are headed to war!" your heart jumped in your chest. The tension that had been simmering exploded into action. Marco was already on his feet, taking the paper from the pirate's hands. His eyes scanned the letter, and then he nodded toward Whitebeard, confirming the inevitable.

Whitebeard’s voice boomed with command, “Man your posts, we leave now.” The room stirred immediately, every commander springing into action. This was it. The fight was on, and you had stood your ground. Despite the odds, despite Whitebeard’s resistance, you’d earned your place in this battle.

As the room emptied, Shanks approached you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His familiar smile was warm but knowing, his gaze filled with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. “You’ve certainly outgrown that woman I knew before. I’ll see you out on the field,” he said softly before walking away, leaving you with the weight of his words and the promise of the fight ahead.

Then Newt stepped forward, his presence a sudden anchor to the flood of emotions rushing through you. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, it felt surreal. It had been so long since you’d last seen him—the brother you’d left behind all those years ago. The boy you remembered was now a man, wearing the weight of his responsibilities like armor, but there were still traces of that child in his face, the soft roundness of his cheeks, a shadow of the past.

“We have lots to talk about,” Newt said, his voice steady, but you could sense the unspoken emotions between the two of you. His words were heavy with both affection and the burdens of the life he had led without you. It felt almost unreal to see him here, alive and standing before you, when you’d once thought you’d lost him forever.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yeah, we do," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. There were so many questions swirling in your mind, but now wasn’t the time for them. The battlefield loomed ahead, and everything else had to be put on hold.

But the promise lingered. After this war, after the dust settled, you would have that conversation. You’d make up for the lost time. For now, though, you had a war to fight—together.

Newt’s eyes softened, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through the hard mask he wore. "We’ll survive this," he said, as much for himself as for you. And though you couldn’t be sure, you nodded again, your resolve hardening. You had to believe that.

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