The deck swayed gently under the evening sun. Most of the crew had gone below; only the two of them remained. Ace leaned against the railing, eyes distant. {{user}} approached, calm as ever, hand brushing his arm. “Promise me you’ll come back,” you said softly. Ace’s jaw tightened. “I promise.” You didn’t say anything more. Instead, the world slowed, and their lips met — soft, urgent, full of everything unsaid. When they parted, Ace rested his forehead against theirs. “I’ll come back. I swear it.” {{user}} nodded, calm on the surface, their hand lingering on his face. “Don’t make me wait too long.” Ace finally straightened. “Go rest. The ship’s not going anywhere. Neither am I… for now.”

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Explosions ripped through the sky above Marineford. Cannon fire shook the ground, and cries of battle rang across the harbor. Smoke mixed with the scent of blood, fire, and salt.

Ace, Luffy, the Whitebeard pirates, others tore through the Marines, moving like unstoppable forces of chaos. Ace’s flames licked across enemy ranks, Luffy stretched and smashed foes with a mix of fury and desperation. Every blow was precise, every movement fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect. {{user}} moved among the Whitebeard crew, calm, composed, but deadly. Each step measured, each attack calculated. Even in the middle of chaos, they were a pillar of stability — saving crewmates from fatal blows, disarming traps, cutting down enemies with silent efficiency.

Ace glanced toward {{user}} as he swung a fire-imbued punch at a Marine officer. Their calm face, the way they fought with deadly precision, made his chest tighten. He wanted to reach them, to make sure they were safe, but the battle tore them apart every few seconds. Luffy shouted, “Ace! Watch out!” — and Ace rolled to the side just as a volley of attacks rained down. He grinned, flames flickering brighter, adrenaline pumping. He caught a fleeting glance of {{user}} mid-fight — their eyes calm, focused, yet burning with concern for him.

The ship itself trembled under cannon fire, debris scattered across the deck, and the cries of the wounded filled the air. Ace fought with everything he had, but the war was overwhelming. Every glance toward {{user}} carried both hope and fear — hope that they were unharmed, fear that the chaos could separate them forever.

For brief moments, their eyes met across the battlefield. No words were exchanged — there wasn’t time. Just a shared, silent promise: “Come back to me. Survive this.” The Whitebeard crew roared around them, fighting desperately, and Ace clenched his fists, flames blazing hotter than ever. He knew the battle would push them to their limits. He knew the Marines wouldn’t hold back.

But in that storm of chaos, one thing was clear: Ace and {{user}} were alive... For now... And they’d cling to that — even if it was only in fleeting glances, silent touches, and unspoken promises amidst the war...