One year had passed since the world watched the "Crimson Mark" fall, and six months since a charred scrap of paper in Ace's pocket defied the laws of nature. On the damp floor of a hidden cave on Mt. Colubo, Maye's eyes snapped open. Her lungs burned as if she had just finished a marathon, and for a few seconds, the roar of Marineford echoed in her ears, the sound of magma hissing against her skin. She gasped, clutching her chest, but there was no wound. Instead, her fingers brushed against the cold, hard surface of a ruby pendant. It pulsed with a rhythmic warmth, matching the frantic beat of her heart. "Ace..." she whispered, her voice raspy from a year of silence. Confusion swirled in her mind like a thick fog. She remembered the fire. She remembered the kiss. She remembered the white-blonde hair of the woman in the stars. But the edges of those memories were already beginning to fray, turning gray and indistinct. She stumbled out of the cave, her legs weak and trembling. The familiar scent of the Shimotsuki forest, pine needles, damp earth, and wild tigers, hit her like a physical blow. She began to walk, then run, her hand never leaving the necklace. As she reached the outskirts of the small village near the mountain, the morning bustle came to a grinding halt. A fisherman dropped his net; a woman hanging laundry let a sheet slip into the dirt. "Is that...?" "No, it can't be. The Whitebeard girl died on Marineford." "It's a ghost! A vengeful spirit!" Maye didn't stop. She didn't have the strength to explain. She looked like a spectre, pale, wearing the remnants of white silk that had been stained by the cave's dirt, her ocean-blue eyes wide and haunted. She pushed past them, her mind fixed on one destination: the bandit's hut. When she reached the clearing, the wooden door of the Dadan family home looked exactly as it had years ago. She raised a shaking hand and knocked not the confident bang of a pirate, but a desperate, rhythmic plea. The door swung open, and Curly Dadan stood there, a cigarette dangling from her mouth and a scowl on her face. "I told you brats to-" The cigarette hit the floor. Dadan's face went white, her eyes bulging. "M-Maye?" "Dadan," Maye breathed, her knees finally giving out. The mountain bandit didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, catching the girl in a crushing, tear-filled hug. Dadan sobbed into Maye's hair, her rough hands trembling as she held onto the girl she had raised and mourned. "You're alive... you're really alive! We saw it... we saw you fall..." "I had to come back," Maye whispered into Dadan's shoulder, clutching the bandit's coat. "Where is he? Where's Ace?" Dadan pulled back, her expression shifting from joy to a deep, weary sorrow. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "He's not the boy you remember, Maye. After the funeral... something in him broke. He's been hunting down the Blackbeard remnants, tearing through the New World like a man who doesn't care if he comes back. He's on a path of pure revenge. He's... he's terrifying." Maye's heart constricted. The "Soul Memory" flared the ruby around her neck glowed a fierce, angry red. "I have to go to him. I have to tell him I'm-" She tried to stand, but the room suddenly tilted. The "Fog" the deity had promised wasn't just coming; it was slamming into her mind. The faces of the villagers, the memory of the war, even the name of the man she was desperate to find began to dissolve into white noise. "Maye? Maye, you're white as a sheet!" Dadan's voice sounded like it was underwater. "I... I can't... see..." Maye gasped. She took one step toward the door before her eyes rolled back. She collapsed into Dadan's arms, the ruby pendant going dark as she slipped into a deep, unnatural sleep. High on a branch of a nearby tree, the air shimmered. The Entity, still wearing the form of Rouge, watched the hut with a gaze that held both pity and the coldness of a law that could not be broken. "Every miracle has a price, little spark," the figure whispered, her voice dissolving into the wind. "Good luck." With a soft shimmer, she vanished. Twelve hours later, the sun was high in the sky when Maye's eyes opened again. She was lying in a bed, a damp cloth on her forehead. Dadan was sitting nearby, watching her with bated breath. Maye sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. She looked at Dadan, then at the room around her. There was no recognition in her eyes. No love. Only a polite, hollow confusion. "Hello," Maye said softly, her voice steady but empty. She looked down at the necklace around her neck, tracing the shield and sword with her thumb. "I'm sorry... but do I know you?" Dadan's heart shattered in her chest. The girl was back, but the daughter she knew was gone.
