The sunlight filtered lazily through the wooden slats of the small hut, golden beams dancing on the floor like ripples across a pond. Birds chirped in strange, rhythmic patterns outside, nothing like the ones Amy remembered from home. No pigeons, no sparrows. These birds sounded… tropical. Alien. And loud.
A groan broke through the morning calm.
Amy or Aiden, as the villagers called him now, sat up groggily. He clutched his head with one hand and wiped the drool from his chin with the other. His temples throbbed with the familiar ache of a hangover. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice raspy and deep, completely masculine. "I told myself—no more sake."
He swung his legs over the edge of the makeshift bed and winced as his heel hit the cold floor. It had been six months. Six long, surreal months since he'd washed up on this island and decided that surviving here meant becoming someone else. The male body he'd shaped for herself had become second nature now. She didn't feel the weird disconnect anymore when she flexed a muscle or glanced at her reflection in the water and saw a chiseled face staring back. If anything, it was easier. There were no hormonal crashes, no cramps, no paranoia walking alone at night.
Living as a man had dulled the edges of vulnerability.
He looked around the small hut. It was modest and crafted from palm wood and stone, patched with woven leaves. But it was his. Or rather, it was Aiden's. Aiden had become a respected figure here. The quiet, stoic young man who helped when no one was looking. Fruits grew sweeter in the forest. Roots turned edible. The abundance of flora and fauna all of a sudden. Fish near the shore growing fatter and more abundant. It was all thanks to subtle nudges from Aiden.
Amy had structured her life around anonymity for the instance, using her powers in invisible ways. She'd manipulated seeds to yield better harvests, coaxed fruit trees into bearing extra fruits and making them sweeter, and bioengineered moss to repel disease-carrying bugs. But no one suspected Aiden. After all, he worked just like everyone else—farming, fishing, hauling water from the stream.
But today… today felt heavier.
Amy rubbed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "Six months… no capes. No New Wave. No Vicky."
Her heart clenched as the last name crossed her mind. Victoria. She hadn't stopped saying that name aloud since she arrived. She couldn't. It would hurt too much.
She missed everything. The loud, chaotic energy of Brockton Bay. The smell of Vicky's hair when she hugged her from behind. Carol's cold glares, even. Hell, she missed the whiny buzz of her old high school classmates complaining about assignments.
She hadn't even realized how much noise her old world made until this one got so quiet.
Amy—no, Aiden stumbled outside and squinted into the sunlight. The village was already awake. Children ran past him, laughing in their strange dialect, while old fishermen pulled nets from boats. The smell of grilled fish and fermented rice drifted through the air. It wasn't unpleasant. Just… unfamiliar. Though, she had to admit, she was growing on it.
He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. The same villagers who once eyed him with suspicion now waved when he passed. Aiden was the outsider who had become part of them. And Amy? She was a ghost now. Present only in the mind of Aiden.
She walked past a group of chatting villagers and offered a polite nod. One of them, a lanky man with tanned skin and a goofy laugh suddenly shouted, "Aiden! You look like you drank a whole barrel last night!"
Aiden only gave him a dry smirk. "Feels like it too." The people already knew that he was a heavy drinker. Afterall, none in the village had ever defeated him when it came to drinking.
Laughter followed him as he made his way to the edge of the village, where the trees loomed tall and the ocean could be seen crashing far off in the distance. There was a cliff there, one that Amy often sat upon to think.
She climbed it in silence and sat at the edge, legs dangling off the stone. The sea below was an endless stretch of cerulean blue, wild and unknowable. Just like this world.
It hit her again. The feeling that everything familiar had been stripped away, leaving her in a brightly colored world filled with absurd creatures and larger-than-life people.
She had tried everything. Checked blood samples. Examined animal DNA. Modified her eyes to read minute atomic differences. But there was no mistake. This was not Earth Bet. This wasn't even Earth Aleph or Earth Gimel as the PRT called the unfamiliar Earth's. This was just weird.
It was something else.
A world of pirates and monsters. A world with no capes… and yet people still shattered logic and reason with every breath. It was terrifying and fascinating. The biology of this world was yonky and overly odd. She had never seen people having builds with such weird bodily proportions and somehow they still lived happily.
Amy exhaled slowly, her breath shaking as it left her lungs. "What the hell happened to me?"
She had changed so much. Not just her body—her thoughts, her reflexes, her instincts. She no longer hesitated to use her power. She didn't freeze at the sight of blood. She didn't hold back when manipulating something down to the cellular level. And that scared her, in a way.
Was she becoming something else?
Her mind wandered again to Victoria. That old, poisonous thought crept back—if I stayed a man… would she love me then?
It was wrong. She knew that. But it still lingered. Because no matter how much she changed, she was still Amy Dallon underneath it all—still broken, still yearning, still aching for something she could never have.
The wind picked up, blowing his hair back as the sun climbed higher.
Somewhere out there, beyond the sea, lay answers. Maybe a way home. Maybe not. But staying here, rooted in safety and routine, wasn't what she wanted forever. She hadn't gone through hell to become something more just to hide on an island.
___________________________________
The afternoon sun glared down on the cobbled paths of the small island town, casting sharp shadows across the buildings. Aiden walked with a lazy stride back toward the small hut he now called home. The lunch had been mediocre, just grilled fish and steamed roots from the forest he'd "enhanced" secretly a few months ago. Still, it filled the belly and kept him functioning. His shirt hung loose, flapping in the salty breeze, and his face wore the mild, absentminded expression of someone who'd gotten used to solitude and silence.
He had taken no more than five steps past the into the village when he felt the tension. It was like someone had laced the wind with unease. Conversations died mid-sentence. The sound of chairs scraping against wooden floors was drowned out by the quiet rise of frantic whispers.
Her ears which were modified for acute perception twitched slightly. He didn't even need to try hard the word 'Tenryuubito' passed from lip to lip like a plague.
Celestial Dragons.
He slowed his walk, pretending not to notice the whispers around him. He passed by a cluster of fishermen, their faces pale as they talked in hushed tones. Some were already rushing to hide their children, others gathered their best clothes like they were preparing for a royal inspection. One old woman was even kneeling by the side of the road.
Aiden exhaled sharply through his nose, his lips curling in a faint sneer. "Right. The so-called gods," he muttered under his breath.
He'd learned about the Celestial Dragons, World Nobles, descendants of the so-called founders of this world's government. From what the villagers had said in terrified tones, they were untouchable monsters in silk and arrogance, riding atop slaves and considering everyone else beneath their boots.
Amy had met real-world monarchs back in her old Earth Bet. The Queen of England, multiple presidents, and global dignitaries had once bowed their heads in thanks – not because of her bloodline, not because of power plays or divine rights, but because she had healed their children, their wives, their soldiers. Even when she hated herself, the world called her Panacea — a miracle, a saint. She had saved lives, rebuilt bodies, and walked through warzones like a quiet god who touched broken flesh and made it whole.
And now these bastards thought they were better than everyone simply because their great-granddaddies made a pact with blood and steel eight centuries ago? It was honestly absurd. Heck if she was in her own world. These nobles would be messaging her day and night to secure appointments with her. Such had been her power and necessity.
"Fuck that," Aiden growled, his pace quickening.
He had no interest in kneeling before false gods. She had already too much in her plate. This world was wrong in their justice. Even the marines or the good guys served under these false Gods. It seriously didn't sound well to her ears. The entire good side would be deteriorated if these Celestial Dragons controlled the marines. Afterall, the word of these Celestial Dragons would be only considered justice. But, this was just the reality here. No wonder, this world was fucked up.
She looked towards the ocean. She could see the shimmering ocean far beyond the trees, and on its blue surface, cutting through the waves, was a massive ship trimmed with gold and white. The flag of the World Government flew proudly. The villagers would already be kneeling seeing it approaching. Some rich brat with ancestral money would then laud over them.
She could almost hear Victoria's voice in his head. "Don't pick a fight. Don't be reckless."
But what was she supposed to do?
She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere anymore. And it was getting harder to care.
She rubbed her temple and softly muttered, "I should sleep this off."
But she didn't move. She didn't even want to.
Because curiosity, that old gnawing thing, whispered to her like it always did. What if this was the chance? A ship that big — maybe it had information. Technology. A map. Coordinates. Some secret knowledge to some parallel world.
His eyes narrowed as he frowned upon the last thing. Since these Celestial Dragons were the top cream of the world. It was bound that they would have some secret knowledge of certain things. If she wanted something which could help her to get out of this world, maybe they were the ones who had it.
"…Maybe I'll pay them a visit after all," she muttered softly. Not to kneel or praise them. Instead, simply find a way to go away from this world.
Her thoughts were immediately stopped when she saw an old man walking urgently towards his hut.
"Aiden san." The old man called to her or more specifically him. Aiden blinked as Kazi stepped into his path, the old man's cane thudding lightly against the cobblestone path. The man was one of the respected ones in the village. He also had a loving family and his son was a marine. She had even heard that Kazi had been a marine too.
"Where are you going, boy?" Kazi asked, his voice weathered by the years, like the rustling of paper-thin leaves on a winter branch.
Aiden tilted his head, caught off guard by the sudden interruption. "Back to my hut," he said simply, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his loose trousers. "Nothing to do. Nothing I want to do."
Kazi narrowed his eyes. "You sure about that?"
Aiden raised a brow. "Pretty sure. I just ate enough to put a bear to sleep. I'm not in the mood for chit-chat."
The old man didn't budge. Instead his body seemed to tense as he looked at him. "Then maybe you ought to change your mood, lad."
Aiden exhaled slowly. This was odd. Why was the man being so cautious now? "What are you getting at, Kazi?"
Kazi's voice dropped suddenly. His eyes sweeped around them to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "The Celestial Dragons are coming. And they're not like the other nobles you've heard of. These ones—" he paused, tapping the cane against the ground twice, "—they look at us like we're less than livestock. We don't even register on their radar unless we give them a reason."
Aiden frowned. A warning to him then. He found it odd though. Why warn him? "So don't give them one. That's simple enough."
"If only it were that easy." Kazi's eyes met his. "They expect tribute. Flattery. Fear. Even the smallest thing that makes them feel like gods among mortals." He took a slow step closer, his voice lowering even more. "We don't have gold. We don't have weapons. All we have is fruit and fish—and lately, fruit that's become sweeter than anything we've ever grown before."
Aiden's eyes flickered, his jaw stiffening. He didn't respond. Could it be?
Kazi's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "I may be old, but I'm not blind. You think no one noticed? One month, a tree bears fruit barely edible. The next, it's growing mangoes sweet enough to make a man weep." He shook his head with a light chuckle. "No, I don't think it's magic. I think it's you."
Aiden looked away, his gaze dropping to the pebbled street. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Kazi leaned forward slightly. "I've seen the way you walk among the trees. The way the animals avoid you but never run. The way the plants respond when you pass by. I don't know what kind of devil's fruit power you have—or if it's something else entirely. But you have it. And I believe you've used it kindly."
Aiden clenched his fists inside his pockets. The old man wasn't wrong. And part of him, the stubborn, grieving part, wanted to say 'no'. Wanted to disappear back into his hut and curl up in the dark, away from this world and its madness. Away from the politics of false gods and colonial empires. But another part—the part that remembered hospitals, remembered screams, remembered helpless hands reaching for hers—couldn't look away.
Kazi's voice softened. "I'm not asking you to fight them. Not unless it comes to that. But if we can offer them something—anything—to make them pass over our island without leaving a trail of corpses behind… we have to try."
Aiden looked up at him, his expression unreadable. The breeze tousled his hair again. In his mind, he heard the laughter of Victoria. Her bright voice, her ever-glowing smile. Then the silence that followed when she looked at her with pain, pity, fear.
"Why should I help?" Aiden said finally. "Why should I care what happens to this island?"
Kazi studied him for a long time. "Because you already do," he said simply. "You never would've done what you did to our land if you didn't."
Aiden felt something tighten in his chest. The man wasn't wrong. She—he—they had done it without thinking. Out of habit, perhaps. Or guilt. Or because, deep down, Amy Dallon had never stopped trying to atone.
She closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath. The truth was simple. Even if she didn't want to admit it—she cared. And she couldn't stand the idea of these people being hurt for something as arbitrary as a noble's passing whim.
"I can give you fruits," Aiden said at last, voice clipped. "Ones so sweet they'll think the gods themselves grew them. But if that's not enough…"
His eyes opened—cold, dangerous, glowing faintly with something too old and sharp for his youthful face. Amy was dead serious. She would have hesitated to fight. But with her new found powers, she knew, they wouldn't stand a chance. No one would. Not with the secret weapons she had been working on.
"…then I'll deal with them."
Kazi flinched slightly at the look. He was clearly afraid by his tone. "That won't be necessary, I hope."
"Yeah," Aiden muttered softly, beginning to walk toward the fruit trees at some distance from his hut. "You better hope."
As he walked, his posture changed. His shoulders squared and his spine straightened. He could feel the low thrum of his power beneath his skin, alive and ready, pulsing through every fiber of his engineered nerves. It was a gift. A curse. A weapon. It was everything to her.
And it all depended on her. How she would use it?