''All that exists now once slumbered as one with me. I dreamed it into the void, severed it gently, and let it grow wild. Yet the thread never breaks—I move through it all, bending each particle to my intention.'' - Mysterious Ethereal Being
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The first thing Arlo felt was warmth.
Not the dead radioactive air of the vault, not the searing radiation that had turned his cells into a source of necrophiliac's pleasure source, but genuine warmth. Sunlight, filtered through paper screens. The smell of tatami mats and incense.
His eyes snapped open.
A wooden ceiling. Traditional Japanese architecture. Ornate paintings of cranes and cherry blossoms adorned the walls. This wasn't a regular 21st century hospital. This wasn't the afterlife's void-space with its Gacha Wheel.
This was... a bedroom?
Arlo tried to sit up and immediately noticed something was wrong. His body felt different. Lighter. Smaller. His hands—
They were tiny.
Pudgy, soft, with the unmarked skin of a child who'd never done a day of manual labor. He stared at them, turning them over, watching the way his fingers moved with the clumsy coordination of someone who hadn't quite mastered fine motor control.
"What the—"
His voice came out high-pitched. Childish.
Panic flickered through him.
He quickly checked his pants
"Thank god I still have my Schlong—a bit smaller than before but it'll grow"
but before he could do anything else, something else happened.
The Sphincter opened(Just a Metaphor).
Memories that weren't his own crashed into his consciousness like a stream of piss striking the walls of the urinal. A life he'd never lived, experiences he'd never had, a world that was both familiar and utterly alien.(Yes, while writing this I needed to pee so badly)
He was Arlo. Five years old. Born to a noble family in the Wano Country—the Wano Country—of the One Piece world. His parents, Lord Takeshi and Lady Himari, had died six months ago during a pandemic that had ravaged the entire planet. A disease they'd called the "Crimson Cough," but he knew what it really was.
COVID-75. Even in a world of pirates and devil fruits, even in a universe where people could stretch their schlong like rubber and cut through steel with swords, that damn virus had followed him. The absurdity of it made him want to laugh.
"Corona didn't even leave the world of anime," he muttered, his adult mind warring with his child's voice. "That's just... that's just petty."
But the pandemic had done more than kill. It had made his family obscenely wealthy. While the world economy collapsed, his parents had pivoted their noble house's resources into sanitization supplies and face masks. They'd become titans of industry overnight, accumulating wealth and political influence that rivaled some of the Daimyo.
And then, as mysteriously as it had appeared, the virus vanished. Every sample, every trace—gone. As if it had never existed. (phir hera pheri- if you know you know)
Arlo—the adult consciousness now inhabiting this five-year-old body—sat up, his mind racing. The memories continued to integrate, slotting into place with surprising ease(adaptation working in background). He had a sister. Sachiko. Thirteen years older. She'd raised him after their parents died, managing the family estate with a combination of political acumen and ruthless business sense that belied her caring, overprotective nature toward him.
But overlaying all of this was something else. Something that made his heart race with a mixture of excitement and dread.
He knew this world.
Not just as Arlo, the five-year-old noble. But as Arlo, the young Nuclear Scientist from another universe entirely, who'd spent countless hours reading One Piece manga up to chapter 1170.
The Void Century. The Ancient Weapons. The Will of D. Luffy's Gear Fifth. The truth about Imu and the Five Elders. Rocks defeat. The revelation about Joyboy, Nika and Davy clan .
He knew it all.
"Holy birdshit," he breathed, and the profanity sounded rather funny in his child's voice. "I'm actually in One Piece."
The year was 1479 of the Sea Circle Calendar. Forty-five years before Luffy would set sail. Seven years before the God Valley Incident where Rocks D. Xebec would fall and the Roger Pirates would find an infant Shanks.
Oden was still in Wano. Orochi hadn't made his move yet. Kaidou was with the Rocks Pirates but hadn't claimed Wano as his territory.
And Arlo—a tiny, five-year-old Arlo with the mind of an adult and memories of a future that hadn't happened yet—was sitting in a noble estate with enough wealth and influence to potentially change nothing. I mean money can't really do anything in front of the guy who gets offended by just the name of a man.
The enormity of it started to feel a little overwhelming.
But then he remembered the wheel. The essences. The powers he'd been granted.
His consciousness turned inward, and he felt it immediately. The Codex, merged with his very soul, pulsing with PP(power and potential). The Essence of the Blank, promising limitless growth. The Essence of Overcoming Limitations and Adaptive Evolution, already working to optimize this child's body beyond its natural limits. His willpower is already increasing exponentially with no signs of stopping just like Bhai jan. (iykyk)
And Raphael.
The moment he thought the name, a presence materialized in his mind. Not invasive, but there. Waiting.
"Raphael," he said in his mind. "Are you there?"
«Notice: Ultimate Skill Raphael, Lord of Wisdom, is operational. All systems functioning at optimal capacity. Current user status: Reincarnated in target world. Physical age: Five years. Mental capacity: Fully intact with previous life memories integrated. Synchronization complete. Adaptation ongoing….»
The voice was crystalline, neither male nor female, purely logical yet somehow not cold. It spoke directly into his mind with perfect clarity.
Arlo felt a cheshire grin spread across his small face. "Run a full diagnostic. I want to know everything about this body, this world's power systems, and cross-reference with my One Piece knowledge."
«Understood. Beginning comprehensive analysis.»
A pause that lasted perhaps three seconds, though Arlo knew that with Raphael's Thought Acceleration, millions of calculations were occurring in that instant.
«Analysis complete. Current physical status: Human male, age five years, European descent phenotype. Physical parameters exceed baseline human child average by 840% due to Essence of Overcoming Limitations. Growth rate accelerated. Mental resistance to external influences: Absolute. Devil Fruit compatibility: Confirmed viable, though unnecessary given current power set. Haki potential: Immeasurable—all three types accessible with training.»
«World power systems identified: Haki (Observation, Armament, Conqueror's), Devil Fruits, advanced combat techniques, genetic modifications, technological augmentation. All systems analyzable and replicable through combination of Codex and current essence synergies.»
«Cross-reference with provided One Piece knowledge up to chapter 1170: Complete. Timeline discrepancies noted. The current year being 1479 ASC places the user seven years before God Valley Incident, forty-five years before the main storyline. Major canon events catalogued and probability matrices calculated for potential changes.»
"Good," Arlo said, though his mind was already racing ahead. "What about the Codex? Can you interface with it?"
«Affirmative. The Codex is sublimated with your existence at a fundamental level. All desires strong enough will be translated into reality through its function. However, I recommend structured approach to ability development rather than impulsive creation. Synergy between Codex, Essence of Blank, and Essence of Overcoming Limitations creates exponential growth potential if managed systematically.»
Arlo nodded slowly, his small hands unclenched as if they held power . This was as real as Faze getting disbanded. This was actually real. He had power beyond anything he'd imagined, sitting in a five-year-old body in a world where he knew the future.
The responsible thing would be to plan carefully. To grow slowly. To not disrupt canon too much.
But as his mind turned to the knowledge of what was coming—the suffering, the deaths, the tyranny of Imu and the celestial dragons, the rabbit hunting, the massacre—something hardened in his chest.
"Raphael, I need—"
The door to his room slid open with a soft sound.
A young woman stood in the doorway, and Arlo's breath caught.
Sachiko.
She was beautiful in the way classical Japanese paintings depicted noble women—elegant features, long black hair tied in a traditional style, wearing a formal kimono that spoke of both wealth and taste. But her eyes, when they landed on him, transformed her entire expression.
They were filled with such overwhelming affection and relief that Arlo felt something that filled him with a fear every child dreads.
"Arlo-kun!" She rushed to his bedside, her composure cracking. "You're awake! The physician said you had a fever, and I was so worried—"
She was checking him over, hands gentle but insistent, feeling his forehead, checking his pulse at his wrist. The concern radiating from her was almost tangible.
This was his sister. The woman who'd raised him after their parents died. Who'd managed an entire noble house while still finding time to care for a grieving five-year-old. Who, according to his inherited memories, would challenge Daimyo to their faces if they so much as looked at him wrong.
Complete bro-con didn't even begin to cover it.
"I'm fine, Sachiko-nee," Arlo said, and he was surprised by how natural it felt. The memories might be new, but the affection was real. "Just a bad dream."
She pulled him into a hug, and despite his adult mind, despite everything he knew and everything he'd experienced, Arlo found himself relaxing into it.
"You scared me," she whispered. "After Mother and Father... I can't lose you too."
Arlo's arms came up to hug her back, small hands barely reaching around her. His adult consciousness noted the irony—a grown man's mind in a child's body, being comforted by his teenage sister. But the child's heart, the one that belonged to this body, felt only warmth and safety.
"You won't," he said quietly. "I promise."
When Sachiko pulled back, her eyes were bright but her smile was genuine. "Good. Now, you need to eat something. The cook prepared your favorite—"
"Sachiko-nee," Arlo interrupted gently. "Can I ask you something?"
She tilted her head. "Of course."
"The family business. The sanitization supplies and masks. Are we still producing them?"
A flicker of surprise crossed her face. Arlo rarely asked about business matters—he was five, after all. But she nodded.
"We've scaled back significantly since the pandemic ended. Why do you ask?"
"I think we should keep the facilities," Arlo said carefully, his mind already working. "And expand into medical supplies. Research. Father and Mother built something important. We shouldn't let it go to waste."
Sachiko studied him for a long moment, and Arlo saw the sharp intelligence behind her caring exterior. She was young, only eighteen, but she hadn't maintained their family's position through luck alone.
"That's... very thoughtful, Arlo-kun," she said slowly. "Did you have a dream about Mother and Father?"
It was a perfect out, and Arlo took it. "Yes. They told me to help people. To use what we have to make things better. To become strong"
It wasn't entirely a lie. His parents—his previous parents, back in the laboratory—would have approved. Science in service of humanity. Knowledge used to prevent suffering. Yes they were Scientist while being a Nobility.
Sachiko's expression softened, and she pulled him into another hug. "They would be so proud of you. We'll do exactly that. I promise."
As she held him, Arlo's mind was already racing ahead. Medical research would give him cover for so many things. Studying Devil Fruits. Developing counter-measures for poisons and diseases. Creating technologies that this world had never seen.
And more importantly, it would give him the infrastructure to help people. To change things. To make sure that the tragedies he knew were coming could be prevented or at least mitigated.
But not too much, a cautious part of his mind warned. Change things too much and you lose your advantage. You need canon to happen, at least some of it.(Now I am doing this because one piece is still not finished and I don't want to make mistakes that will destroy the whole plot, I want Oda sensei to cook up some storm)
It was a problem for later. Right now, he was five years old, sitting in a noble estate in Wano, with his sister holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.
And in seven years, the God Valley Incident would reshape the world.
In seventeen years, Oden would leave with Whitebeard.
In twenty-one years, Orochi would make his move.
And when Kaidou came to Wano, expecting to claim it as his territory...
Arlo smiled, and for just a moment, something cosmic and vast seemed to flicker behind his blue eyes. Two radiance.
...he would be waiting.
«Notice: Long-term strategic planning recommended. Current power level insufficient for direct confrontation with top-tier threats. Suggest systematic development across multiple vectors: Haki mastery, Devil Fruit knowledge, technological advancement, political influence, and combat technique refinement.»
I know, Arlo thought back at Raphael. But I have time. And with what I've been given, time is all I need.
He pulled back from Sachiko's embrace and gave her the brightest smile a five-year-old could muster.
"I'm hungry, Sachiko-nee. Can we eat now?"
Her face lit up. "Of course! Come, let's get you fed."
As she helped him out of bed, fussing over his slippers and making sure his yukata was properly tied, Arlo took a moment to truly appreciate his situation.
He had been given a second chance. Not just at life, but at life in a world he'd loved from afar. With powers that would let him grow without limit. With knowledge of the future. With a family that loved him and resources to make a difference.
Unlike those angsty isekai protagonists he used to read about, he wasn't going to waste time moping about his old life or having emotional breakdowns. He wasn't going to collect his harem left right and center. He had dignity.
He definitely wasn't a mess of complicated feelings he didn't quite understand, sitting in a five-year-old body while an eighteen-year-old girl treated him like the center of her universe.
Definitely not.
That's a problem for Future Arlo, he decided as Sachiko led him toward the dining hall, chattering about the menu and asking if he wanted anything special.
Right now, Present Arlo had a world to prepare for.
And maybe, just maybe, a tyrannical dragon and a treacherous snake to deal with.
But first—breakfast.
Even overpowered reincarnators needed to eat or do they?