Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. I cannot make such a great story for the life of me. Nor can I draw like that. xD

Basil Hawkins thoroughly shuffled his treasured deck of cards, mystified. No matter how many times he divined the fortune of Monkey D. Luffy, the results always came out as "alive"; it was a 100% chance that the young rookie would survive despite the odds. A frown graced his pallid face as he stared at the results. Did this extreme survival rate have to do with "D"?

Slender hands slid the pieces smoothly back and redid the process, this time divining the fortune of another. "Portgas D. Ace," he muttered, "Let us see where you shall end up. Heaven, Hell, perhaps even reincarnation?" His fingers lightly danced across the surface of the deck, feeling each card for the tingle that will inform him of the young man's fate. He drew one out, then dropped it promptly in shock.


His execution was seen all across the world, yet…?

Hawkins narrowed his eyes, wondering if it was his sixth sense fooling his mortal brain, blocking him from understanding the language of the heavens.

Shuffle. Retry. Draw.


His eyebrows knitted the process as he tried again.


How was this possible? Portgas D. Ace was dead; there was absolutely no doubt about it. Hawkins pursed his lips and shoved his beloved tarot cards back into his pocket. How curious.

Fate was indeed a strange one.

Under the ruins of what used to be grand Marineford, several masked surgeons were busy checking a limp form strapped down, hooking different machines to him. They were in a secret laboratory underground, intact despite the harsh tremors inflicted upon the building.

"Sir," asked a timid young soldier, "Are you sure he will survive?"

"Of course," the admiral known as Akainu snapped back irritably, adjusting his marine hat as he watched the surgeons work over the seemingly dead body. The man was strapped in place on the gurney, a gas mask already placed over his nose and mouth. He smiled slightly, triumph spreading as he watched the operation continue. Despite the fact that this plan was horribly costly, in both money and lives, it was worth it, ignoring the factor of starting a new wave of unruly pirates in search of the legendary treasure.

It was fairly simple, of course. Stage Portgas. D Ace's death.

Sengoku, of course, had heavily advised against this plan he called unethical, but the World Government unanimously passed Sakazuki's idea.

Everything had gone according to the plan, for the most part. They had won the War of the Best. Now, the most delicate process of this operation had begun, which was to "revive" Portgas through a series of organ transplants, blood transfusions, and other touchy, messy jobs they left to the most genius surgeons available under the government. Portgas would be a valuable asset, the perfect weapon for the Marines to utilize. He was ideal to experiment on, being the son of the late Pirate King, a well-known and well-loved pirate in both Grand Line and the New World. Armed with a logia devil fruit and elite combat skills, along with a sharp mind, he would have become an amazing marine had he chose the path.

Akainu watched as a surgeon jabbed the near-dead pirate with a large needle filled with a thick, clear serum. Suddenly, his body jolted, but he remained in his coma.

Although the Government had not yet perfected the technology of brainwashing, it would be enough to wipe Ace's mind clean by burying them deep in his subconscious that only a specific trigger they set could unlock them, so that they could use the pirate's precious knowledge against his allies and further understand the One Piece. Surely as Roger's son, there would be some special information they could take advantage of? Of course, the best part of all this was turning Portgas against his friends and family.

The admiral savored in the irony. "Sir!" one of the doctors called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Should we…?" He held up a microchip in his gloved hands.

Sakazuki replied with a curt nod.

It was simply a precaution, in case the trigger for the memories was somehow activated. Portgas had to be kept under control until they could administer another wipe.

"Purupuru, purupuru."

He looked down to see a yellow Den Den Mushi beeping, informing him of an incoming call. "Admiral Sakazuki," he answered gruffly.

"Have you heard yet?" was the lazy voice he recognized all too well, but there was a strange edge to the tone. "Sengoku has filed his resignation. Garp, too."

He didn't take his eyes off the workers as he replied, "Your point is?"

"What you're doing is wrong. It's unethical," Kuzan said matter-of-factly.

"I'm only following absolute justice," Sakazuki shot back, unfazed by the accusation. "This will play a large part in helping us destroy pirates once and for all."

"The Fleet Admiral position is empty now."

"I take it that you're not going to back down for it without a fight."

There was a slight pause. Then Aokiji finally said, "I'll be damned if I handed the Marines to you." He hung up abruptly.

Akainu rubbed a hand against his chin. He hadn't expected things to become like this, but if his rival admiral was asking for a fight, that was what he would get. It would certainly be to his advantage if he became the Fleet Admiral, with the entire army under his command, and direct communication to the World Government. He could reform the Marines once and for all without any interfering people like Garp, who had ties with pirates and revolutionary armies.

Now, back to business… He directed his attention back to the operation once more.

It felt like he was asleep for an eternity when he finally opened his eyes. It was disorienting, all the alien emotions and pain flooding into his mind at once. A panicked hand flew to his chest – but why? – and felt around, only to retract confusedly when he found a mess of heavy stitches instead of something else he had expected. His head was pounding with a mysterious headache, and he felt tired and sore all over as if he just went through some hardcore training. Bandages and gauze stained with blood covered his body.

What the hell happened?

And all these nonsensical emotions of pain, sorrow, fear, panic, and a myriad of unnamed feelings attacked his brain all at once. But no matter how hard he tried to recall, all he pulled out was a large, fat blank. Nothing. Nothing at all. He didn't even remember his own name, and this bout of amnesia was seriously beginning to scare him.

The young man tried to shove all this confusion down as he took in his surroundings properly. Somehow he had landed himself in a dirty and dim cell, with a tiny barred window filtering bright sunlight high above in the corner of the three walls that encircled him. He tried squinting through the heavy bar cells that closed him in and saw nothing but darkness, but he was able to make out a small set of stair cases leading upwards. His neck, wrists, and ankles were all shackled to the wall, cuffed so tightly they cut through the gauze and skin, blood seeping sluggishly out. The seastone was making him feel drained of power, his insides hollow and cold. If he had consumed a devil fruit, he didn't remember it.

Swallowing drily, the man attempted to stand, only to fall unceremoniously into a heap none too gently onto the stone floor. "Okay," he said experimentally to himself, then cleared his throat, surprised to find his voice very hoarse. Gingerly climbing into a sitting position, he adjusted his collar.

First things first, get the heck out of this prison. Then try to understand the situation.

He tugged on the heavy cuffs that restrained his hands and found a strange symbol that resembled a seagull. It struck a sense of anxiety in him, telling that this was bad news, something he should've avoided at all costs. It belonged to the enemy.

But who? He didn't remember.

His head snapped up as he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming from up ahead, steadily growing louder. By the stairs emerged a stern, mid-aged man dressed in a red suit, a bright splash color in the dull cell. A white coat was draped over his shoulders, with a matching cap that had the blue words MARINE written on it.

His body tensed and his fists curled together tightly, and he took in a sharp breath. An irrational combination of fear and hatred shot through him just by looking at this man. Who was he? The young man felt as if someone injected ice into his veins as he stared at the older.

Stay calm, he told himself, but he was beginning to panic anyways. His breathing quickened when the man met his gaze evenly with a cold, piercing stare that frightened him.

"Do you remember me?" the man demanded.

He swallowed nervously and shook his head.

Pleased by the answer, the other allowed himself a small smile. "Good. I am Fleet Admiral Sakazuki of the marines, and from now on you will address me as sir."

He looked blankly back. They were the marines?

The grim man continued, "You are to become the secret weapon of the marines, the best of the best. Your sole goal in life is to serve under me, the fleet admiral, and follow every order, whether to carry out simple duties to capture pirates or to murder."

Killing people? The phrase gave him a sick feeling.

"You will remember yourself by the name Gol D. Ace, but do not give it out to any others."

The name was familiar to him, but instead of being happy that he now knew what he was called, it felt strange, like it didn't exactly fit or belong to him. It just was different.


This man, Sakazuki, was expecting him to be a loyal dog without giving any reasons or explanations. "What if I refuse?" Ace replied quietly, wondering what sort of response he would receive.

Sakazuki did not look amused in the slightest at this answer. He snapped loudly, and within moments six soldiers hurried down from the stairs. They got into a line formation and stood there stoically, awaiting a command.

The fleet admiral turned to his soldiers. "I want him to be prepared by tomorrow," he ordered.

"Yes sir!" they shouted in unison, snapping a salute. Sakazuki left without another word, his jacket billowing out behind him as he slowly disappeared from view.

Ace suddenly had the feeling that he would be better off dead.

Happy New Year's Eve! It's also going to be Ace's birthday tomorrow! Anyways... this plot bunny has being floating around my head and bothering me for a while, so prepare for one heck of a crazy ride, and it's the first time I'm writing yaoi. This story will take place after the two year time skip, but before Punk Hazard so I don't screw up crap since we're still in the middle of the arc. Warning: I'm going to be mean to Ace.

Hopefully I portrayed Akainu correctly, and hope you guys enjoyed the opening chapter! Review, maybe? :D