Under the cool shade of a coral-laden archway in the heart of Fish-Man Island, Jinbe sat in quiet meditation. His breathing was steady, deliberate—grounding himself as he always did in moments of calm. But this calm felt... unnatural.
The rhythmic hum of the ocean's currents was as familiar as the blood in his veins, yet something about it felt off. It wasn't as soothing as it should have been. It was as though the entire sea held its breath.
His brows furrowed in concentration as unease crept into his chest. Slowly, Jinbe opened his eyes.
"This… This isn't right," he muttered, his deep voice laced with confusion.
He looked around, expecting to see the bustling activity of Fish-Man Island's vibrant marketplace or the grandeur of Ryugu Palace, but instead, he found only the quiet expanse of his meditation alcove.
"Fish-Man Island..." he whispered to himself, clutching his chest as his mind raced. "Why am I here?"
For a moment, Jinbe wondered if it was all a strange, vivid dream—a trick played by his weary mind. He pressed a palm against his face, the ridges of his calloused skin brushing over his brow as he tried to shake off the disorienting thoughts. The last thing he remembered was the storm and the overwhelming certainty of his crew's presence. Now, they were... gone?
"No, this can't be real," Jinbe muttered, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
Jinbe's feet echoed softly on the smooth coral pathways as he walked deeper into Fish-Man Island. The weight of the world seemed to press down on him with every step, but his thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. His chest tightened with the unanswered questions that gnawed at his mind, but there was no escaping them. The images of Whitebeard, Ace, and Luffy—his brothers, his captain—felt distant, unreal, like fragments of a shattered memory.
The realization began to settle like an anchor in his stomach: this wasn't right. The strange stillness in the air, the lack of urgency, the absence of the events that had once felt like a fire in his soul—it all made sense now. Jinbe wasn't just lost in thought; he had lost something far more fundamental.
Was he dreaming? Had he… gone back in time?
A cold shiver ran down his spine as he made his way toward the heart of the island, seeking answers. There had to be someone who could explain. The bustling marketplace was filled with Fish-Men and mermaids, laughing and chatting as they went about their daily lives. It looked like any other normal day, yet it felt so wrong.
Jinbe spotted a familiar face—Kanjuro, the fish-man who used to help run the fish markets near the Ryugu Palace. He was chatting with a group of younger fish-men and tossing some fish into a basket. Jinbe hesitated for a moment, then approached him.
"Kanjuro," Jinbe began, his voice firm but betraying the deep confusion in his heart. "Tell me, do you know if Whitebeard is still alive?"
Kanjuro froze mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing with bewilderment. "Whitebeard? Who's that? Wait, are you talking about the big guy from the New World?" He let out a hearty laugh, scratching his head with his webbed hand. "Nah, Jinbe, he's not dead. Never heard anything like that. You've been hitting your head too much? Maybe you're still groggy from that last fight you were in, huh?"
Jinbe's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean, not dead? You're telling me Whitebeard is still alive?" His voice wavered despite himself.
Kanjuro gave him a strange look and shrugged. "Of course he's alive! What are you talking about? He's not even close to dying, Jinbe! You gotta rest up, my friend. Seems like the heat's gotten to your head." With a final chuckle, he turned back to his basket, clearly unconcerned by the strange question.
.