Age of Pirates, Year 1536. The coast of Foosha Village.
The morning sea breeze carried the sharp, damp scent of salt, and the waves shattered against the jagged rocks with rhythmic violence.
Fourteen-year-old Luffy stood at the edge of the cliff, his head tilted back. His eyes were wide, filled with an undisguised mixture of envy and longing. Standing before him were two figures that looked less like boys and more like iron towers.
After the final two years of Garp's systematic Haki grinding, seventeen-year-old Ace had reached a height of two and a half meters. He wore an open, dark red sleeveless coat that showcased a torso carved with anatomical perfection. His broad shoulders and long, powerful limbs cast a shadow that seemed to stretch across the very heart of the village.
Beside him, Sabo stood at a staggering 2.4 meters. He wore an exquisitely tailored deep blue tailcoat, a garment that balanced the elegance of an aristocrat with the menace of a street-bred fighter. The simple water pipe he once carried had been replaced by a custom long-staff forged from a high-strength alloy.
"We're leaving, Luffy."
Ace lowered his gaze. His voice was calm, steady, and carried the weight of a man who had already conquered his own soul.
"I know! In three years, I'm coming for you! Don't you dare get caught before then!" Luffy clenched his fists, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Ace nodded once. There were no more words needed. He reached out with a broad, calloused palm and pressed it heavily onto Luffy's straw hat, pinning the boy's dreams to his head.
"See you on the sea."
He turned and stepped away.
There were no tearful goodbyes or exaggerated theatrics. Under the awestruck gazes of the villagers, Ace and Sabo stepped into a small rowboat and pulled toward the horizon, leaving the shore of their childhood behind forever.
Half a day later, within a massive sea cavern hidden somewhere along the East Blue coastline.
When Ace and Sabo stepped into the gloom of the secret shipyard, the Master Shipwright—who had been dozing in a rocking chair—nearly choked on his pipe. He scrambled to his feet, his hands trembling.
The old man looked up at the black-haired youth. At 2.5 meters, exuding the cold, heavy pressure of an apex predator, Ace didn't look like the boy who had brought him a suitcase of cash four years ago. He looked like a god of the sea in human skin.
"Is she ready?" Ace's voice was deep, the resonance echoing through the cavernous space.
"Ready? She is... she is the masterpiece of my life!"
The shipwright snapped out of his trance and threw his weight against a massive chain. With a roar of turning gears, a giant canvas shroud fell away, revealing the vessel beneath.
She wasn't a bloated, lumbering warship. She was a streamlined, lethal teardrop of engineering. Thirty-five meters long, two decks, and a two-mast configuration designed for speed and stability.
"The keel is high-density 'Iron Pine'—the hardest wood on the black market," the shipwright said, his voice reaching a fever pitch of fanaticism. "The hull is wrapped in anti-corrosion steel plating. She's built to ram through reefs and laugh at cannon fire. And the curves... they minimize every ounce of resistance. If the wind is with you, nothing in the East Blue will even see your wake!"
Sabo stepped onto the deck and pushed open the door to the living quarters. A flash of pure satisfaction crossed his eyes.
The interior was a mobile palace. A temperature-controlled wine cellar, a hall laid with silk carpets, deep-seated leather sofas, and a bathtub carved from a single piece of polished gemstone. This wasn't a boat for surviving the sea; it was a throne for ruling it.
"Perfect."
Ace stepped onto the deck, the sturdy timber holding his massive frame without a single creak. He ran a hand over the smooth gunwale, feeling the soul of the ship. Eighty million Berries—it was worth every cent.
"Raise the sails. Weigh anchor."
Ace walked to the bow, issuing his first command as Captain.
"Understood, Captain."
Sabo took the helm. The massive, pure white mainsail caught the breeze instantly. The Black Eclipse—a sharp, dark sword of a ship—sliced through the water and slipped silently out into the vast, open ocean.
The sharp, wave-breaking bow cut through the rolling swells with impossible stability. The black-painted hull glided across the surface at a speed merchant ships could only imagine.
"From today, she is The Eclipse," Ace declared.
He stood at the bow, hands resting on the railing. His dark red coat billowed in the wind, his curly black hair whipping around his face. He watched the horizon with the absolute composure of a king.
"She's incredible," Sabo said, walking out of the pilothouse with two glasses of chilled sake. "Ridiculously fast, and the chassis is so stable I can barely feel the waves."
"For eighty million, she'd better be," Ace took a glass and drained it in one gulp.
For the first two weeks, they simply drifted with the wind, testing the ship's limits and letting a decade of tension bleed out of their muscles.
"Ace, where to?" Sabo spread a detailed sea chart across the deck table. "South takes us to Orange Town. East leads toward Shells Town and the Marine 153rd Branch."
Ace didn't answer. He closed his eyes.
His innate Observation Haki, honed to a razor's edge, expanded outward like an invisible radar. He heard the gulls crying above the clouds, the deep-sea currents shifting miles below, and the faint, distant screams of a pirate skirmish leagues away.
The "Voices of All Things" gathered in his mind like fine silk threads.
Suddenly, his eyelids flickered. He heard it—a faint, rhythmic summons coming from a direction no chart had marked.
Ace snapped his eyes open. His gaze pierced toward the southwest.
"Sabo. Full rudder to the southwest."
"Southwest?" Sabo frowned, looking at the blank space on the map. "Ace, that's a dead zone. The merchants say the fog never lifts and the currents are a chaotic mess. They call it the 'Sea of No Return.' Nothing comes back from there."
"A dead zone?"
Ace turned toward the bow, a sharp, dangerous grin hooking at the corner of his mouth.
"Then let's go see if a 'dead zone' has what it takes to stop The Eclipse."