Reverse Mountain. The Gateway to the Graveyard.
The wind howled like a dying beast, and rain lashed the deck of the Black Eclipse in horizontal sheets. The sea was no longer water; it was a churning, boiling cauldron of white foam.
As the ship breached the heavy thunderclouds, the world ceased to make sense. Ahead, a massive canal of seawater defied the laws of gravity, surging upward along the sheer, crimson face of the Red Line.
"How is the water flowing uphill?! This is insane!" Carina screamed, clinging to the mainmast as the ship tilted at a forty-five-degree angle.
"Hold on! We're riding the surge!" Sabo roared from the wheelhouse. His knuckles were white as he gripped the helm, his eyes burning with a mix of adrenaline and terror.
Buggy was a blur on the deck, his limbs detaching to adjust the sails with superhuman precision. He knew this path. He had walked it with the King.
RUMBLE!
The Eclipse hit the upstream current. A sickening sensation of weightlessness took hold as the black warship was snatched from the ocean and hurled toward the clouds.
Ace stood at the bow. He didn't hold onto a rail. He didn't brace himself. He stood as straight as a spear, his feet seemingly rooted to the wood. As they broke through the mist at the summit, the world opened up. Sunlight fractured through the spray, illuminating the convergence of the four seas.
For the first time, Ace felt a genuine, bone-deep awe. This is it, he thought, the wind whipping his hair. This is the world Roger saw. This is why they all came. In his past life, this was a drawing. Now, it was a roar in his ears and the smell of salt and ancient stone. To not reach the pinnacle of such a world would be a crime against his second life.
"BRACE FOR THE DROP!" Carina yelled.
The Eclipse crested the peak and dove. It sliced through the mist like a falling blade, crashing into the calm waters of the Twin Capes with a thunderous splash.
"We made it..." Buggy wheezed, collapsing onto the deck. "The Grand Line..."
But the celebration died in their throats. Ahead, a massive, black wall of flesh towered into the sky, blocking the horizon.
"A mountain?" Carina gasped.
"No," Sabo said, his hand moving to his staff. "It's alive."
MOOOOOOOOOOO—!!!
A colossal, mournful cry shook the very foundation of the sea. The "mountain" turned. It was an Island Whale of impossible proportions, its head covered in a lattice of gruesome, self-inflicted scars. One giant, soulful eye fixed onto the Eclipse.
"It's going to ram us!" Buggy shrieked, his body splitting into pieces in pure panic.
"Stand down," Ace commanded, his voice a low vibration that stilled the crew.
He walked to the very edge of the bow and looked up at Laboon—the whale that had waited fifty years in silence. Ace didn't draw a weapon. He didn't prepare to fight. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was infused with a thread of Haoshoku Haki, making it resonate across the waves like a bronze bell.
"Stop hitting that mountain, you stubborn whale."
Laboon froze. The giant eye blinked, focusing on the small man below.
"The man with the afro... the one who played the violin every night... he isn't dead."
Laboon's massive body gave a violent shudder.
"His crew fell into darkness in the Florian Triangle, but he is still there," Ace said, his tone as heavy as a blood-oath. "He hasn't forgotten you. He's waiting for a way back."
A low, whimpering moan escaped Laboon, a sound of decades of grief suddenly met with a spark of hope.
"Keep your watch here," Ace said, a small, confident smile playing on his lips. "It won't be another fifty years. When I have rewritten the rules of this sea, I will bring that musician back to you. That is my promise."
The whale went silent. Soothed by the calm, kingly authority radiating from Ace, the giant creature that had been a tempest for half a century miraculously subsided. It sank slowly into the water, leaving only the scarred crown of its head visible, and let out a long, gentle trumpeting of gratitude.
"You... you talked it down?" Carina whispered, her eyes wide.
"I simply told it the truth," Ace replied.
"Truly remarkable."
A raspy, seasoned voice drifted from the lighthouse on the shore. An old man in a floral shirt, with a strange, flower-like crown of hair, stepped forward. He held a morning newspaper, his eyes sharp despite his age.
Buggy froze. His red nose twitched, and his eyes suddenly welled with tears. He scrambled to the railing, leaning over so far he nearly fell.
"DOCTOR CROCUS?!" Buggy wailed, his voice cracking with pure emotion.
The old man—Crocus, the Pirate King's Physician—paused. He peered over his glasses at the ridiculous red nose.
"Oh? If it isn't that bratty apprentice... Buggy?" Crocus lowered his paper, a glint of nostalgia softening his gaze. "I just read about you. Joined a new crew called the 'Eclipse,' have you?"
Crocus's eyes shifted then, moving past Buggy to the man at the bow. He looked at Ace—tall, silent, and radiating the pressure of a deep abyss.
The ship doctor of the Gold Roger Pirates stared at the young man, and for a moment, he felt a ghost of the past brush against his shoulder. He couldn't look away.
Read ahead with 30+ chapters and with daily updates!
@patreon.com/authorzero