One Piece: Rise of Valoria

The ocean had been a merciless companion, and for days, William drifted aimlessly under the blistering sun and the icy grip of the night. His body was battered, his mind swimming with fragmented memories of Ohara. Days blended into nights, and the vastness of the sea seemed infinite. He had lost track of time and direction, but his heart clung to one unrelenting purpose: survive.

The waves rocked his flimsy raft as a distant shape appeared on the horizon. At first, William thought it might be another cruel trick of the sea, but as it grew larger, hope flickered in his chest. It was land.

His lips cracked, dry from dehydration, and he barely had the strength to row toward the island. With each stroke, his muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't stop. The sight of solid ground gave him the last bit of strength he needed to push forward.

After what felt like an eternity, his raft bumped against the shoreline. His legs wobbled as he stood, and he nearly collapsed onto the sand. His body felt alien to him after so long at sea, his limbs sluggish and weak. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright. He had made it. He had survived the hellish ocean.

The island was a desolate place. Jagged cliffs framed the shoreline, and dense forests loomed ahead, hiding any sign of civilization. The air was humid, thick with the scent of earth and salt, and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the silence.

William limped forward, his body aching with every step. His clothes were tattered, hanging loosely from his lean frame. He needed food, water, and a place to rest, but more than anything, he needed to heal.

---

Two months passed, and every day felt like a battle.

The island provided some resources, but not without challenges. William had found a freshwater spring deep within the forest, and there were fruits and small animals to hunt, though he had never needed to fend for himself like this before. His injuries from Ohara had left him weakened, and without any medicine or proper care, his wounds healed slowly and painfully.

He fashioned makeshift bandages from tree bark and leaves, wrapping them around his chest and arms. He had suffered a deep gash along his side from the explosion that had separated him from Robin, and though it was healing, the scar it left behind served as a constant reminder of his failure.

Every day, he forced his body to move, pushing through the pain as he hunted and gathered whatever food he could find. The isolation was maddening at times, the silence of the island broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional animal call. He spent long hours sharpening wooden spears, constructing a shelter from branches and vines, and training his body despite its protests.

Though he was healing physically, the scars of Ohara weighed heavily on his mind. His dreams were haunted by the faces of the scholars, the terrifying sight of Akainu's magma, and the burning refugee ship. But most of all, it was Robin's face that stayed with him. Her wide, tear-filled eyes as she was dragged away from him, her cries echoing in his ears.

**I wasn't strong enough.**

That single thought consumed him. He replayed the events over and over, cursing his weakness. He had failed her, failed Ohara, failed everyone.

As the days bled together, William's determination hardened. His body grew stronger, and the wounds, while still painful, no longer held him back. He would survive this island, and when he was ready, he would find Robin. And this time, he would be strong enough to protect her.

---

It was late afternoon when William's life changed again. He had been hunting for food, tracking a small boar through the forest, when he heard voices. Human voices.

His heart leaped in his chest. For two months, he hadn't seen another soul. Was it possible that there were others living on the island?

Curious but cautious, William crouched low and moved toward the source of the sound. His instincts, honed from his time on the island, told him to stay hidden, to observe from a distance. As he approached the voices, he peered through the thick foliage and saw a group of men.

They were large, gruff-looking, and armed to the teeth. Swords hung from their belts, and they wore mismatched armor and ragged clothing. Something about them felt off. They didn't look like ordinary travelers or settlers. Their laughter was cruel, and the way they handled their weapons suggested they were used to violence.

William's instincts screamed at him to turn back, but before he could retreat, a twig snapped under his foot.

The group froze.

"Did you hear that?" one of the men asked, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the trees.

William cursed under his breath. He had been careless.

"Someone's out there," another man said, gripping his sword. "Check it out."

Before William could react, two of the men charged toward him. His body, still not fully recovered, was sluggish. He tried to run, but his legs gave out, sending him crashing to the ground. The slavers were on him in an instant, pinning him down with brute strength.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the leader of the group sneered as he approached. He was a tall man, heavily scarred, with a wicked grin. "Looks like we've caught ourselves a stray."

William struggled against the men holding him down, but his strength was no match for their numbers. His body screamed in protest as they tied his wrists together with rough, heavy chains.

"Let me go!" William growled, his voice hoarse.

The leader chuckled darkly. "Oh, we'll let you go, alright. But not before we get a nice price for you." He leaned in close, his grin widening. "You see, kid, you're gonna fetch us a good sum on the slave market. Strong body, tough lookin'. You'll be worth a fortune."

William's heart pounded in his chest as the weight of their words sank in. Slavers. He had heard of such people—men who kidnapped others to sell them into lives of brutal servitude. He thrashed against the chains, but it was no use. He was trapped.

The leader laughed as William continued to struggle. "Keep fighting, boy. It'll only make you more fun to break."

As the slavers dragged him toward their camp, William's mind raced. He had survived Ohara, he had survived the ocean, and he had survived this forsaken island. But now, he faced a new nightmare.

For the first time in his life, William realized that the world outside Ohara was far darker and more dangerous than he had ever imagined. And now, he was a captive in that world.