The last thing Zoku remembered was sitting in his room, engrossed in the final chapters of One Piece. He had marveled at the world Oda had created—the pirates, the Devil Fruits, the mysteries of the Void Century. It had been his escape from the monotony of everyday life. Then came the accident. A sudden, blinding light, a jolt of pain, and darkness.
When Zoku's consciousness returned, it was different. His mind was hazy, his senses overwhelmed. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, and his vision was blurry. Everything felt... new. Like a fresh slate. His body was tiny and fragile, but there was an odd warmth surrounding him, a comforting heat that seemed to cradle him.
As days passed, Zoku slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying on a beach, the sand warm beneath him, the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling the air. Above, the sky was a vivid blue, with a blazing sun hanging high. Despite the brightness, he didn't feel any discomfort from the heat. In fact, the warmth felt natural—like it was a part of him.
He tried to make sense of his situation, but his infant body made everything difficult. His limbs were uncoordinated, his cries feeble. Yet, every time he felt frustrated or upset, the flames would come. At first, it was subtle—a flicker of warmth on his back. But as his emotions flared, so did the fire. It wasn't until his reflection in a shallow tide pool caught his attention that he began to understand.
The tiny figure staring back at him had golden eyes that gleamed even in the dim light. Small, black-feathered wings protruded from his back, and the flames that danced around them were unmistakable. Zoku had been reborn as a Lunarian.
The realization hit him like a tidal wave. He wasn't just in any random world. He was in One Piece. The fiery wings, the resilience to heat, the legendary Lunarian traits—it all pointed to one thing. Somehow, he had been reincarnated as one of the most powerful and mysterious races in the series.
But with that power came challenges. The flames on his back were unpredictable, flaring up whenever his emotions surged. Even the smallest frustrations, like trying to crawl or reach for something, would result in a burst of fire. It scared him at first. The heat was intense, even for him, and controlling it was impossible. The beach bore scorch marks from his outbursts, and his tiny body often felt drained after these episodes.
Over time, Zoku began to experiment. He couldn't walk or speak yet, but he could observe. By focusing on his breathing, he noticed the flames would calm. If he let his emotions spiral, they'd grow wild and untamed. It was a slow, frustrating process, but each day brought a little more control. He learned to flare his wings slightly, creating small bursts of fire to keep himself warm when the ocean breeze turned cool.
Food was another challenge. The beach offered little in terms of sustenance. Washed-up seaweed and the occasional tide pool crab were his only sources of nourishment. Crawling toward them was an ordeal—his body was weak, and the sand made movement difficult. But the more he pushed himself, the stronger he became. His tiny muscles began to adapt, and soon, he was able to pull himself upright, using nearby driftwood for support.
One day, as he ventured closer to the shoreline, he was greeted by a sight that took his breath away. The ocean stretched endlessly before him, its surface glittering under the sun. In the distance, he could see islands rising from the water, their silhouettes dark against the horizon. This wasn't just any beach. This was the world of One Piece, vast and full of possibilities.
Zoku's heart raced. He remembered snippets from the manga about the Lunarians, how they had been driven to near extinction, their history shrouded in mystery. If he was here, then he was truly alone. No family, no allies—just a baby with the memories of a past life and the daunting task of survival in one of the harshest worlds imaginable.
But Zoku wasn't one to back down. Even as an infant, he felt a spark of determination ignite within him. The flames on his back burned brighter, as if mirroring his resolve. If he was going to survive, he'd have to master his abilities, learn to navigate this unforgiving world, and become stronger. This was no ordinary second chance—it was an opportunity to carve out his own legend in the world of One Piece.
Days turned into weeks, and Zoku's progress was slow but steady. He practiced controlling his flames, using them to keep predators at bay and even cook the crabs he managed to catch. He began to crawl faster, then pull himself up to stand. The sandy terrain toughened his tiny feet, and his golden eyes grew sharper, observing every detail of his surroundings.
One evening, as Zoku sat near the edge of the beach, watching the sun dip below the horizon, he felt a surge of hope.