One year before the world would erase the very name God Valley—
The island still breathed.
Sunlight poured across white marble streets, sacred gardens blooming beneath the feet of gods who ruled from above. Laughter echoed from distant halls, champagne flowed freely, and the world pretended it was eternal.
At the edge of that paradise—far from the thrones and divine feasts—stood a small, forgotten home.
Inside lived a woman holding her newborn twins.
Two boys.
One slept soundlessly, crimson hair shining like the first light of dawn.
The other did not sleep.
His eyes were open—sharp, alert, unnaturally aware. They reflected the world as if judging it.
"Shanks… Shamrock…" the woman whispered, pressing her lips gently to their foreheads.
"No matter what this world becomes… you must live."
Her hands trembled she knew she had always known.
Children born with that blood were never meant to grow old in peace.
The sky trembled not with thunder but with authority.
Heavy footsteps echoed as armored figures descended upon the settlement. Their presence crushed the air itself, bending weaker men to their knees. The sunlight dimmed—not from clouds, but from fear.
At their head walked a man whose very existence radiated judgment.
Cold. Absolute. Unquestionable.
Figarland Garling.
A Holy Knight.
A blade wielded by the Celestial Dragons.
His gaze fell upon the twins.
Silence followed.
"…Two of them," Garling muttered. "An unnecessary complication."
The woman stepped forward, spreading her arms, shielding the children with her body.
"Please," she begged. "They're innocent. They haven't even learned to speak."
Garling's eyes did not waver.
"Innocence has no meaning in bloodlines."
Steel flashed.
The woman collapsed.
Blood stained the sacred stone as she fell atop her children, cradling them with her final breath.
Shanks screamed.
A raw, piercing wail.
Shamrock did not cry.
His tiny fingers clenched—nails biting into his own flesh—as something ancient and burning ignited within him.
Garling turned away.
"Erase this place."
Flames answered his command.
And paradise burned.
.
.
.
The Day of the God Valley Incident———
The sky was clear
Too clear.
Screams filled the air as slaves ran through shattered streets, chains clattering against stone. Among them was a boy—no older than eight—tears streaming down his face as he stumbled forward.
Behind him—
Laughter.
A Celestial Dragon raised his gun.
The boy fell.
The trigger tightened—
BANG.
The Celestial Dragon collapsed, blood spraying across the ground.
A young man stood there—seventeen at most—wearing a Marine uniform. His hands shook, eyes wide in disbelief at what he had just done.
Justice…?
What kind of justice is this?
"Run!" he shouted.
The boy scrambled away.
But fate was cruel.
Moments later, the child ran into another group—slaves desperate, panicked. They shoved him, kicked him, trying to silence him before the Celestial Dragons noticed.
Then—
"Hehawwww!"
"Hehehehe!"
Two voices echoed through the chaos.
A flamboyant boy and a sharp-eyed girl emerged from the shadows.
"Name's Ivankov," the boy grinned.
"I'm Ginny," the girl said calmly. "If you want to live, follow us."
They had a plan.
Ginny spoke quickly. "The Celestial Dragons brought Devil Fruits. Rewards for their sick little game. They're stored in treasure cabins."
Ivankov laughed. "So we steal them."
They reached a hidden cabin.
Inside—two Devil Fruits rested on velvet cushions.
One was gray, patterned like paws.
The other shimmered azure, scales etched across its surface like a living dragon.
A shadow loomed over them.
"Mamamamama…"
A massive woman grinned down at them.
"Oy, rats. Hand those over."
Her hand closed around the azure fruit.
Ginny froze.
Ivankov shouted, "Kuma—eat the other one! NOW!"
The boy hesitated only a moment before biting into the gray fruit.
Power exploded.
With no understanding—only instinct—Kuma slapped Ivankov and Ginny.
They vanished.
Elsewhere on the island—
War erupted.
Pirates clashed with God's Knights. The land shattered beneath overwhelming power.
Rocks D. Xebec roared as he fought, rage blazing in his eyes.
"I'll tear this world apart if I have to!"
A massive, spider-shaped figure descended—its presence suffocating.
"Oh?" a voice sneered. "The rat king finally shows himself."
The other figure sneered back, eyes burning with contempt.
"So tho are thy Davey Jones..."
Above them—
God Valley screamed.
And history prepared to bury the truth.
"Thanks for Reading".....