My name is Chris.
Like a lot of people in stories like this, I died in a way that was… painfully cliché.
I had just graduated from college at the age of 23, finally stepping out into the world with my degree in hand. That night, I decided to celebrate — alone, of course. I mean, it's not like an otaku like me had any real friends to party with. So there I was, walking down the street, excitement bubbling in my chest as I made my way toward a bar I'd been wanting to try.
Everything felt so normal.
Until it didn't.
Without any warning, everything around me went black. Not the usual kind of darkness — it was deep, absolute, like the world itself had been erased. No sounds, no lights, no feeling… just an endless void swallowing me whole.
And that's the last thing I remember.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't on the street anymore. I wasn't even in my own body.
I had been reborn — a three-year-old child, stranded in the middle of an unknown island.
No one was around.
No voices, no people — just the distant, haunting echoes of beasts roaring deep within the forest.
It didn't take me long to realize the truth:
I had been reincarnated.
But something felt off.
Where was the truck that usually sends people to other worlds?
Where was the stereotypical god who grants you three overpowered wishes?
Why the hell was I just… here? Alone, weak, and in the middle of nowhere?
As confusion gnawed at me, I stumbled toward a puddle of water glinting under the soft light filtering through the trees. I leaned over and caught my reflection—and immediately froze.
Even as a child, I was… striking.
Soft, porcelain skin without a blemish. Sharp, noble cheekbones that gave my young face a strange, regal sharpness. My hair was a wild, thick mess of jet black strands streaked faintly with white, like lightning had touched it. And then there were my eyes: one a piercing gold, the other a stormy silver, both shimmering faintly with an unnatural light.
There was a calm weight to my gaze, something far too heavy for a three-year-old. I didn't just look like a normal kid.
I looked like someone destined to change the world.
If this was the body I'd been given, then the seas better prepare themselves.
Because this child wasn't meant to stay small for long.
I pushed myself to my feet, the forest around me suddenly feeling a little less overwhelming. That's when I spotted it—something half-buried under a pile of fallen leaves.
A name tag.
The letters were clear, somehow glowing faintly, almost like they were waiting for me. The moment I laid eyes on it, something clicked deep inside my mind:
"Ravro D. Flare."
I didn't know how I understood it.
I just did.
And with that realization, another one hit me like a punch to the gut:
I knew exactly which world I had been thrown into.
One Piece.
And not just anywhere in it. The "D" in my name meant I was tied to the Will of D, a name whispered in fear and awe across the seas. Those who carried it were enemies of the so-called "gods" of the world—the World Government itself.
I let out a slow, shaky sigh.
Of all the universes out there… it had to be one of the deadliest.
I didn't even know the timeframe.
Was Gol D. Roger still alive?
Had the Great Pirate Era already begun?
Was the World Government already hunting people like me?
I was thrown into the middle of a living storm, and I had no idea when or where it would strike.
Just as my mind started to spiral, a sudden mechanical chime rang out inside my head:
[System Integration: In Progress…]
I blinked, stunned for a moment.
A system…?
Maybe things weren't completely hopeless after all.
Maybe this world hadn't thrown me here just to die.
Gripping my tiny fists tighter, I turned back toward the endless forest stretching before me.
I had been given a second life — a second chance.
And this time, I wasn't going to waste it.
Ravro D. Flare would carve his name into the seas — no matter what monsters, marines, or gods stood in his way.