ONE PIECE: Lone Sails

White waves crashed against the sky, their frothy crests gleaming under a dome of endless blue. The beach shimmered in the sunlight, its sands strewn with shells that glittered like scattered pearls. Among them, a handful of white-shelled sand crabs scuttled cautiously toward a heap of food lying just beyond their reach, their tiny claws clicking against the shore.

High above, vultures wheeled in lazy circles, their sharp eyes fixed on the same prize. Their shadows flickered over the sand, dark omens of hunger poised to swoop down and claim their share.

Suddenly, the crabs froze mid-step, then darted back to their burrows in a frantic retreat. The vultures, too, faltered in their flight, a glint of frustration flashing in their beady eyes.

"Huh? What's happening?"

The mound of "food" twitched, then rolled over with a groan. It wasn't a meal at all—it was a teenage boy, his skin bronzed by the sun and his clothes tattered from the sea. The blinding light forced his eyes shut, and he squinted against the glare, struggling to make sense of his surroundings.

"Huh… cough…" His voice rasped, dry as the sand beneath him. Who am I? Why does my body ache like this?

A sudden jolt of pain seared through his skull, and his eyes flew open, wide with fury. Veins bulged on his forehead as he clutched his head. "Ahhh!"

It felt as though a molten iron rod had been plunged into his brain. Memories—chaotic, fragmented, and overwhelming—swirled within him, crashing and melding into a tempest of recollection. Despite his exhaustion, his body thrashed involuntarily, rolling across the beach more than a dozen times. For ten agonizing minutes, the torment raged, until at last, the pain ebbed away, leaving him breathless and trembling.

"Huh… huh…" His chest heaved as he forced his eyes open, staring blankly at the azure sky where the vultures still circled, patient and relentless. Crossed the East Sea? One Piece? Roger?

A name emerged from the chaos, sharp and clear. Noah. Carnegie Noah. "From today onward, I am Carnegie Noah," he whispered to himself. "As for the name I once bore… let it drift away with the wind."

He lay still on the beach, the reality of his situation sinking in. He had crossed into another world, another life. Silently, he began to sift through the jumble of memories—those of his past self and those of the boy whose body he now inhabited. Both were vital, pieces of a puzzle he needed to survive.

His name was Carnegie Noah. Thirteen years old, standing 184 centimeters tall and weighing 88 kilograms. He hailed from Starfish Island, part of the Pole Star Islands, a cluster of landmasses near the infamous Rogue Town. Three years ago, his parents had been slain by pirates, leaving him an orphan. Since then, he'd survived on their modest inheritance and the fish he caught from the sea.

Today, he'd been fishing when a sea monster attacked. His small boat had shattered under the beast's fury, but fortune—or fate—had spared him. While the monster battled another of its kind, the current had swept him to this deserted shore.

Exhausted, Noah dragged himself toward a cluster of coconut trees nearby. The cool sea breeze and the shade they offered shielded him from the relentless sun. Leaning against the rough trunk, he gazed out at the horizon. No ships, no signs of rescue—just the endless expanse of water and sky.

He reasoned he was still near Starfish Island. An ordinary boy like him couldn't have survived a long drift across the open sea without being devoured by fish or beasts. If I'm here, I'll make peace with it, he told himself, forcing his mind to settle.

It was the year 1501 in the Hyalinian calendar, the morning of May 7 when he'd "died." The sun still hung high, suggesting it remained the same day. His family history was simple but tragic. Three years prior, during the dawn of the Great Pirate Age, the Marines had clashed with pirates near Rogue Town. One band of fugitives had fled to Starfish Island, and in their rampage, they'd killed his parents.

Beyond them, he had two living relatives: his cousins, Carnegie Joseph and Carnegie Joshua, both fishermen on Starfish Island. Joseph, in particular, had supported Noah after the tragedy, helping the ten-year-old orphan find his footing. Uncle Joseph will notice I'm missing soon, Noah thought, staring at the sea. They often exchanged greetings during their fishing trips. If he didn't return by evening, Joseph would know something was wrong.

Starfish Island lay 168 kilometers north of Rogue Town's Jiuxing Island, the heart of the Starfish Islands—a chain of three inhabited isles and sixteen deserted ones. Given his surroundings—untouched sands, no fishing boats, only seagulls and clouds—this was likely one of the uninhabited islands. The absence of human activity confirmed it was off the busy trade routes.

For now, he rested, letting his mind organize the flood of memories. Half an hour later, his strength returned enough for him to stand. Spotting a three-meter bamboo pole abandoned on the beach, he seized it and approached the coconut tree that had sheltered him. More than a dozen green coconuts dangled from its branches, promising sustenance.

After twenty minutes of awkward prodding, two coconuts thudded to the sand. Noah licked his parched lips, gathered them, and smashed them against a nearby rock. Bang! Crack! The shell split, and he tilted it to his mouth, gulping down the sweet, cool juice.

"Ha… refreshing!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then drained the second coconut. His stomach felt pleasantly full, a small victory against the odds.

He scanned the coastline. More than twenty coconut trees dotted the beach, their green fruit a lifeline until he found fresh water. After resting another half hour, he gathered a few palm-sized stones, tucked them into his pocket, and gripped the bamboo pole. It was time to explore the small woods beyond the shore.

Though a deserted island was unlikely to harbor large predators, Noah remained cautious. He tossed a stone into a bush ten meters ahead, then swung the pole through the grass and shrubs, startling any hidden creatures. His vigilance paid off—a green snake slithered from a bush, fleeing into the undergrowth.

In this untamed wilderness, danger lurked in the form of snakes, insects, and poisonous plants. After crossing a twenty-meter mangrove forest, the terrain rose, giving way to a bamboo grove. No large beasts appeared, but neither did the fresh water he desperately sought. Disappointment gnawed at him, but he pressed on.

Two hundred meters into the bamboo forest, his eyes caught a glimmer of hope. Ahead lay a rugged mountainside, its rocks split by a thin trickle of water. He approached cautiously, tapping the surrounding vegetation to ensure no surprises awaited. Kneeling by the spring, he scooped a handful of water and tasted it with tentative licks.

Fresh water! Relief flooded through him. With this, he could endure longer on the island. Coconut water alone wouldn't sustain him indefinitely.

Using the stones from his pocket, he hammered at the rocks until he'd fashioned a sharp-edged tool. Returning to the bamboo grove, he selected a sturdy stalk and struck it with the stone. After ten minutes of effort, the bamboo split with a satisfying crack.

As the pieces fell, Noah's eyes widened. In the distance, through the trees, he glimpsed something—something that made his heart race with a mix of fear and curiosity.