Ace lay on the deck of the Moby Dick, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the sky. A few days had passed since his most recent "attempt" to take down Whitebeard. His bruises were healing, but his pride took a little longer.
And yet, for the first time in a while—he felt… calm.
"Why don't you stop trying to kill Oyaji and just hang with us?" Marco asked one evening, handing him a drink. "You clearly ain't leaving."
Ace grunted. "I didn't ask to be adopted into this lunatic family."
Thatch leaned over from the other side. "Too bad. We adopted you anyway."
The crew chuckled. Ace sighed, unable to hide a small smile. It was the first time he felt something close to belonging.
Weeks turned to months. Ace slowly stopped trying to assassinate Whitebeard and started understanding him.
He began rescuing his crewmates during raids, helping towns the Whitebeard flag protected, and defending their territory like it was his own.
And then, one day—without fanfare—Whitebeard called him to the front deck.
"Brat," the giant man said, looming like a mountain, "You got fire. You protect my sons. You hold no fear in your heart. From this day on, you lead the Second Division."
Ace's mouth dropped. "Huh?"
The crew roared in celebration. Marco clapped his back. Vista saluted. Even Jozu grinned wide.
Ace blinked. And then—he bowed his head deeply. "Thank you, Oyaji. I won't let you down."
Still, even with new bonds, old memories haunted him.
Luffy. Vihaan. Sabo.
He would wake up some nights, clutching his hat, wondering if they were okay. If they were out there chasing their dreams.
"You'll meet them again," Marco once said, watching him stare at the sea.
Ace didn't respond, but deep down—he hoped.
Until then, he burned brighter than ever. His flame wasn't just his power. It was his promise.
To his brothers. To Whitebeard. To himself.
A few months after joining Whitebeard's crew, Ace took a detour to Wano. He had heard rumors of an oppressed region suffering under the hand of a cruel emperor—Kaido.
The ship docked at the broken shores of Kuri. With only a small scouting team, Ace ventured into the village.
Hungry children. Ruined homes. People whispering the name "Oden" like a prayer.
Ace's fists clenched. "I'll tear this Kaido apart someday."
While gathering information, Ace was ambushed by a cloaked figure wielding a massive kanabo. It was Yamato.
"You shouldn't be here," she growled.
They clashed—Ace's fire against Yamato's sheer brute strength. But unlike with Kaido's men, Ace didn't fight to kill.
"Wait, you're not like the others."
Yamato's eyes flickered. "You… you're not scared of Kaido?"
"I don't fear anyone," Ace smirked. "I came here because I heard of Oden."
Yamato's posture relaxed. "You know about him?"
"I've read his logs. He was incredible. But you…"
She looked down. "I'm Oden. I will open Wano!"
Ace blinked. "You're… Oden?"
Yamato turned away, almost shamefully. "Kaido says I'm insane for wanting to be him."
Ace placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Listen… you don't have to be Oden. You can be like him. Inspire others. Carry his dream forward in your own way."
She turned to him slowly.
"You mean… I can still honor him?"
Ace grinned. "You're Yamato, daughter of Kaido. But you've got the heart of a samurai. So become the female Oden—strong, proud, free."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you."
They spent several days together. Yamato showed him the secret spots of Kuri, and Ace helped villagers in need, giving them food and hope.
Before leaving, he gave her a Vivre Card.
"Someday, I'll come back. Or maybe someone even more interesting will."
Yamato held it close.
"I'll be waiting. And I'll be even stronger by then."
As Ace left the shores of Wano, he looked back one last time, the wind tugging at his hat.
"That girl… she's gonna change this country. I just know it."
After days of goodbyes and a heartwarming farewell from Yamato and the villagers of Amigasa, Ace stood at the cliffside overlooking the sea. The wind whipped at his cloak, his hat hanging behind his back.
He clenched his fist, a resolve burning in his eyes. "It's time."
He had no ship anymore—his last one had been destroyed on a stormy island weeks before he even arrived at Wano. But that didn't matter.
Ace wanted something new.
Something that would carry not just his flames… but the stories and memories of everyone who believed in him.
In the port near Wano's secret exit, Ace gathered wood with the help of the locals. He had sketched out a basic design: a small, sturdy brig sloop—lean and fast.
He worked with his shirt off, sweat pouring down his back as the hull took shape. For weeks, he chopped wood, hammered iron, carved symbols, and tested sail rigging with his own hands.
At night, Yamato would come watch him. Sometimes they shared silent moments, watching the stars from the unfinished deck. One night, she left him a carved figurehead: a roaring flame, wrapped around a smiling face.
"For your will," she said softly, "that burns even the sea."
Ace smiled. "I'll name it Striker."
The vessel was sleek, with flame-patterned sails, a dark red hull with orange trim, and a mast tall enough to rival small marine ships. The front flame masthead shone in the sunlight.
As he christened it in the water, flames licked around the bow—but didn't burn it. The ship seemed to glow with pride.
"This is my journey," he whispered, climbing aboard. "Not just for me... but for Luffy, Sabo, Vihaan... and the ones still waiting."
The wind caught the sail.
And Fire Fist Ace… sailed again.
Ace's sails caught the wind as the Striker glided smoothly through calm waters, Wano fading behind him. With new purpose in his heart and the sound of Yamato's encouragement echoing in his ears, he looked forward to the future—stronger, sharper, and more resolved than ever.
But fate, as always, had other plans.
A few days into his journey, Ace stopped at a small Whitebeard division base on Sphinx Island. The atmosphere was grim. No celebration, no cheers. Only silence.
Marco was waiting at the dock, arms crossed, his usual relaxed demeanor gone.
"Ace," he said softly, his voice unusually restrained. "You need to come with me."
Ace raised an eyebrow, following him silently into the war tent at the heart of the base. Inside, several division commanders stood with somber faces. The air was heavy. And then…
"Thatch is dead," Marco said.
Ace blinked. "What?"
Marco didn't repeat it. Instead, he handed Ace a bloodstained logbook.
"He found a Devil Fruit. A special one—the Yami Yami no Mi. But before he could report it to Pops, he was stabbed… by Teach."
The name hit like a brick to the chest.
Ace's breath caught.
"…Teach? Our Teach?"
Marco's jaw was tight. "He broke the code. Killed his crewmate. Stole the fruit. Then vanished."
Ace's fists clenched slowly, veins bulging, steam rising from his arms. "No one betrays the Whitebeard Pirates."
He turned around, flames flaring from his back.
"I'll find him. I'll deal with this."
Marco tried to stop him. "Pops said not to chase him alone."
Ace's voice was calm—but cold. "Then Pops can punish me later. But no one kills a brother… and walks away."
Back on the Striker, Ace stared at the sea, his gaze harder than stone. The night wind howled, but he felt nothing but the heat rising within.
"I thought you were a fool, Teach. Turns out… you're a traitor."
He lowered his hat, eyes shadowed beneath the brim.
"I'm coming for you."
The flames on the sails burned brighter as the ship vanished into the night—driven not just by wind… but by vengeance.
THE 2 BACKSTORIES I WANTED TO COVER ARE OVER WITH THIS CHAPTER , WE WILL BE RETURNING TO OUR MAIN CREW ON THE NEXT CHAPTER. I WILL BE MASS PUBLISHING THE ENTIRE LOGUETOWN ARC IF I GET 10 POWERSTONES.
I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE LIKING THE STORY AND PLEASE COMMENTS EVERY NOW AND THEN , HELPS ME KEEP MY INTEREST IN THE STORY TOO.
PS:I AM DONE WRITING TILL CHAPTER 72 SO I WILL BE RELEASING 4 CHAPTERS DAILY