Fallen Flag: Heaven Kneels, I Rise One Piece

The sea was glass that morning. Not in calmness, but in sheen — every ripple catching the first breath of dawn, every wave kissing the island shore like it mourned a coming farewell.

Allen D. Walker stood barefoot on the docks, the cool mist curling around his ankles. His eyes glimmered like dew-soaked embers. His lips twitched as Boro tiptoed behind him with the grace of a drunk crab.

"BOO!"

Allen didn't flinch. Boro's jump-scare attempt failed miserably — again. The boy flailed dramatically instead, tripping over a coiled rope and crashing into a crate of dried starfish.

*Clunk. Rattle. SPLAT.*

"Boro, one day those things will get revenge," Allen chuckled, arms crossed, eyes still glued to the ship waiting before them — *The First Flame*.

Boro emerged from the crate with a starfish stuck to his face like a cursed seal. "I swear they moved. I think they're alive. I heard one whisper 'traitor'!"

Allen squatted beside him and yanked the sea creature off. "If you die from a starfish curse, I'll put that on your tombstone. 'Here lies Boro, the only man bested by seafood.'"

The two burst into laughter, so carefree it could've lit the sky.

Behind them, the island watched silently. The Walker family, cloaked in morning mist and emotion, stood near the edge — Serena, holding little Serene in her arms, tears brimming but unspilled; Hades, arms behind his back, expression unreadable; and their close kin forming a respectful line.

Allen turned back, eyes misty.

Then… the sound of stone grinding. A low hum, like the earth itself exhaling.

A figure emerged from the forest.

He was massive.

Cloaked in a mantle of dark grey fur, his body wrapped in bronze-black muscle that seemed carved from mountain itself. Tattoos of swirling suns and swords etched across his shoulders and back. His eyes were molten gold — not glowing, not blazing — just endlessly deep. Watching.

Allen squinted. "Who's that rock with a beard?"

Boro whispered, stunned. "That's not a rock. That's the GUARDIAN."

The man stepped forward, each footstep heavy like a war drum. But there was no menace — only presence. A stillness, like a mountain watching a storm.

Serena's voice cut the silence, reverent. "His name is Veyr. We never told you. But he watched you grow from the shadows. Now he'll walk beside you in light."

Veyr stopped before Allen, towering.

He lowered to one knee.

"Allen D. Walker. You carry the breath of Yomi and the soul of fire. By your father's order… by your mother's prayers… and by your own will… I swear to be your guardian, your trainer, and your blade. Until you no longer need either."

Allen blinked. Then scratched his head. "Uh… you sure? I'm a bit of a gremlin in the mornings."

Veyr didn't smile. But his eyes softened. "Then I'll train you until even gremlins kneel."

---

### Aboard *The First Flame*

The ship gleamed like prophecy. Dark Yomi wood that shimmered with layered firelight. Etchings — ancient and almost celestial — pulsed softly beneath the surface. The bow curved with grace, crowned by the carved dragon whose golden maw spilled into crystal. The sails, deep crimson, shimmered with inked calligraphy in languages older than memory.

Allen stepped on board. And the ship… breathed.

Not literally — but Allen felt it. Like a silent shiver. A connection.

He pressed a hand to the mast.

It was warm.

"She knows you," Veyr murmured behind him. "She's not just wood. This ship was carved from sacred trees fed by the island's core. Her keel forged where only gods dare to sleep."

Allen looked up. "She's... beautiful."

Boro added, mouth full of mangoes, "And huge! So many rooms! I call dibs on the one with the window shaped like a butt!"

Allen narrowed his eyes. "You found that room in like ten minutes?"

"You think I wouldn't? I got *butt-sense*, captain."

"You're not even an official crewmember."

"EXACTLY why I gotta mark territory early."

---

### Training Begins (Sorta)

On the upper deck, Veyr stood like a statue.

"First lesson. Haki."

Allen blinked. "Isn't that… way too early?"

Veyr stepped closer. "You have touched the breath of the sea already. The Haki in you stirs every time your will refuses to break. Let's begin."

*CRACK!*

Allen barely dodged the incoming wooden staff Veyr swung at his temple.

"HEY!"

Veyr didn't wait. He moved with silence and wrath, his strikes like falling trees.

Allen backflipped, tripped, rolled, and then jumped into Boro who was chewing sugar cane on a crate.

"Boro! Help! He's trying to kill me!"

Boro looked over. "Nah bro, you got this. I believe in you."

"You're eating fruit!"

"Training fruit. Spiritually empowering."

Veyr stepped forward. "Lesson one: The enemy won't wait for you to feel ready."

Allen huffed. "Yeah, well, lesson two — never fight on an empty stomach. I've read that in a *shonen* manga!"

Then Allen's fist glowed — for the briefest second. A flicker of his own Will.

Veyr froze.

He smiled.

---

### A Shadow Over the Island

As training continued, something else stirred in the horizon.

Smoke.

Allen stood at the bow, squinting. "That's not our island... right?"

Veyr joined him. "That is. Look closely."

Through the spyglass — a pirate flag.

Crude, sloppily drawn skull. Slashed mouth. Twin blades crossed like broken wings.

Boro whimpered. "Oh come ON. We just left!"

Allen's hands clenched. The ship rocked gently. The ember-etched rails glowed faintly.

He turned.

"We're turning back."

Veyr raised a brow. "Already giving orders, captain?"

Allen stepped up beside the wheel.

"I'm not leaving anyone to burn. Not when I just left that home. Not when I carry its fire."

Veyr nodded once. "Then your training continues… in fire."

And *The First Flame* turned.

Toward smoke. Toward battle. Toward the future.

---

**\[To Be Continued…]**