One Piece: Winds of Rebellion

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The black mist refused to dissipate. Instead, it merged with Alan's innate abilities, expanding his perception to encompass the entire island.

In an instant, the villagers' conversations reached his ears.

"What do we do now? The ominous moon is coming. Are we all doomed?"

"Don't worry. The High Priest said he'd sacrifice the demon to appease the gods and calm their wrath."

"That monster who can read people's hearts? It's better if he's gone. Someone like that has no place in this world."

"But Alan's abilities have helped us many times!"

"Helped us? Would you dare to live alongside someone who can see your every thought?"

"Ahem… By the way, are sacrifices even effective? I've never heard of this before."

"Who knows? But the High Priest wouldn't lie to us."

Alan's expression remained calm. Though no one dared to voice their disdain directly, he had always known how the villagers truly felt about him.

His perception stretched further, projecting the conversations in the temple into his mind as though he stood in the room himself.

"It's such a shame about Alan," the clan leader said. "With his talent, I had hoped to train him into the strongest warrior of our people."

"Clan Leader, we both know the truth," the High Priest replied gravely. "Our strength has dwindled too far to resist the pirates that prowl these seas. We can't wait for him to grow. Even if he's born with the power others call Observation Haki, what good is it if he doesn't serve us?"

"I know," the clan leader sighed. "Such wasted potential. I've traveled the seas for years and have never seen such a gift. Even more remarkable, despite being feared and rejected for his ability to see into others' hearts, Alan never strayed from helping others."

"Fate has never been kind to us. We've protected the world from the cursed Seven-Star Sword for generations, and this is our reward? Annihilation? If we're doomed either way, we may as well sacrifice Alan to the sword. If we harness its power, our clan could rise to rule these seas!"

"High Priest, I've thought it through," the clan leader hesitated. "We can't control a weapon like the Seven-Star Sword. It's darkness incarnate. Coveting it will bring only ruin."

"Turn back?" the High Priest laughed coldly. "It's too late for that. If Alan ever finds out we sold his sister to a slave ship, his kindness won't save us. He'd kill us all."

The mention of the slave ship struck Alan like a thunderclap. His soul wavered, trembling like a candle in a violent wind.

And still, the voices from the temple continued.

"I regret it," the clan leader admitted, his voice heavy. "Selling his sister was a despicable act. Maybe if we apologize, Alan's good heart will forgive us."

"Apologize?" the High Priest sneered. "Don't kid yourself. I can barely face him now without breaking. I had to hypnotize myself to keep him from reading my guilt. There's no way I'd survive that terror a second time."

"Slave ship... my sister..." Alan's voice cracked as blood and tears spilled from his eyes. He collapsed, clawing at the ground in anguish, leaving deep grooves in the stone beneath him.

The black mist's voice slithered into his mind again. "Take the sword from the sarcophagus. It will give you the power to take your revenge."

Alan rose like a man possessed, staggering toward the sarcophagus. His trembling hands gripped the Seven-Star Sword and pulled it free.

A storm of malevolent energy erupted, shattering his soul in an instant. But the belief burning within Alan's fractured spirit kept the sword's darkness from consuming him entirely.

Then, across the boundaries of time and space, another soul entered his broken body, merging with Alan's remnants. Together, they wrestled for control, driven by shared hatred and the primal will to survive. Slowly, they fused into something new.

Boom.

The temple doors burst apart violently.

The clan leader and High Priest froze as Alan emerged from the shadows, the Seven-Star Sword clutched in his hand. His eyes burned with an insatiable thirst for vengeance, radiating a killing intent so potent it felt like death itself had entered the room.

"T-That sword... The Seven-Star Sword…" the High Priest stammered, his voice trembling.

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