[Eleventh Year]
Driven by relentless ambition, you formulate a bold theory from the fragmented data you've amassed. However, theoretical knowledge alone will not suffice; sending your bee soldiers on dangerous missions has yielded paraphrased reports, riddled with inaccuracies and gaps. The process of passing information from one to another only amplifies these distortions, compromising the reliability of your findings.
You understand that if you are to pursue the truth, you must venture to the source—the underworld itself. This decision sparks a rigorous phase of preparations, ensuring every detail is accounted for.
[Twelfth Year]
Your preparations are finally complete. When news spreads that you plan to reach the underworld through suicide, your allies are both shocked and resolute in their opposition. Hancock, Momousagi, Yamato, Toki, Caesar Clown, and even Ginny implore you to reconsider.
You reassure them, masking the gravity of your endeavor with a calm smile. "It's just a journey for a few days," you say. "I will return soon."
With a steady hand, you take up the dagger you meticulously prepared and plunge it into your heart. The searing pain is immediate, but you drag your weakening body to the soft bed awaiting you and surrender to darkness with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
Outside the laboratory, the Twelve Earthly Branches stand vigil, their expressions grim. You are dead.
As your soul departs your body, an indescribable sensation sweeps over you, lifting you into an ethereal state. The Underworld Fruit's latent power stirs within, resurrecting your consciousness in spectral form. You 'open your eyes' and behold the fabled underworld—an unending sea of souls, chaotic yet brimming with boundless energy. Bubbles drift by, bursting and re-forming in an endless cycle. The sight is mesmerizing, and clarity floods your mind.
You are captivated, lost in the sea of souls.
A Few Days Later
An invisible force begins to expel you from the underworld—the pull of the physical realm. The Underworld Fruit's power, it seems, compels your resurrection. You resist, straining to linger in the sea of souls, but the pull is inexorable. Time slips into a paradox; days seem to pass within moments as your soul hovers between realms.
At last, your essence crosses the threshold between reality and the dreamlike beyond. Your soul emerges above Beehive Island, slipping through solid walls until it returns to your hidden underground laboratory.
There lies your lifeless body, pale in its prepared coffin. Your soul merges with it, and breath returns to your chest.
You awaken. You understand now.
And your next goal? To touch the power of gods.
[Year 12]
With newfound purpose, you command the Earthly Branches to gather war orphans from across the world. The oldest among them is barely two years old. You construct a new laboratory, hidden four levels underground, designed to house and separate each child.
You nurture them—providing sustenance, education, and direction. Carefully, you plant seeds of ambition, guiding their dreams to mirror your own.
[Year 22]
You come to realize that Devil Fruits are born from overwhelming desire—a desire so intense it pierces the veil between reality and illusion, drawing energy from the sea of souls and granting unimaginable powers.
Yet, a decade of experiments yields no success. Your war orphans, despite their training and encouragement, fail to manifest the fervent dreams necessary for creation.
[Year 32]
The oldest orphan now stands at twenty-two, and still, none have succeeded. Their lives, though structured and disciplined, lack the raw, desperate yearning you suspect is required. Perhaps inherent talent is also a factor.
Determined to overcome this setback, you initiate a second wave of trials.
[Year 132]
Over centuries, you conduct more than ten rounds of experiments. Each attempt ends in failure. Frustration gnaws at your certainty, leading you to question the validity of your theory.
A new approach is needed—an environment that mimics an era before Devil Fruits, before recorded history, when primal desires shaped the world.
But you have all the time in the world.
Immortality ensures that your quest will not end here.
[Year 133]
You wielded the power of the Float-Float Fruit to shift entire islands, casting them into the depths of the Calm Belt. You merged these islands using the Island Fruit, creating a small continent you named 'Pangaea.'
You abducted a dozen infants, several teenagers, and two couples. Their memories were wiped clean, replaced with a fabricated past: a tribe devastated by a natural disaster, left to seek refuge and survive on Pangaea. Amid the dense jungles and roaming prehistoric beasts, including formidable dinosaurs, the tribe began its struggle for existence.
[Year 134]
the stronger of the two couples perished during a hunt. The surviving man took the widow into his care and rose as the tribe's leader, naming himself 'King.' Under his guidance, the tribe found a safer haven within Pangaea's untamed wilderness and began to thrive and grow.
By the Year 140, both women bore children, and the tribe welcomed new life.
Seven years later, in the one hundred and forty-second year, the King was mortally wounded during a hunt. In a world without medicine, injury meant inevitable death. The King's passing left a void, soon filled by one of the grown boys who named himself 'Tree.' The tribe, who had always taken shelter in the protective embrace of the forest, saw in Tree a new guardian.
[Year 153]
you watched through your Bee scouts as Tree demonstrated intelligence beyond his years. He crafted weapons, organized hunting parties, and passed on survival strategies. The tribe began to stabilize, learning the nuances of their environment and mastering the dangers around them.
[Year 154]
your dissatisfaction grew. To disrupt their progress, you conjured a tsunami with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, submerging their settlements. Tree led his people through the chaos, though many perished, including numerous infants and one of his wives. The tribe's numbers dwindled by a third, and grief took root.
Over the ensuing years, your relentless interference continued. Natural and fabricated disasters kept the tribe's population stagnant at a mere hundred. Yet, despite their struggle, you did not witness the emergence of powerful dreams.
[Year 157]
you sent a clone named 'Yang,' appearing to be ten years old, to infiltrate Pangaea. Yang claimed that his own tribe had been obliterated by a volcanic eruption, leaving him the sole survivor. Tree offered him comfort. Yang, in turn, spoke of dreams—a desire to shine like the sun and bring warmth to all.
By the one hundred and sixtieth year, Tree had aged, his strength waning, but he formed a bond with Yang, whose prowess outmatched ten men. When Tree asked Yang about dreams, Yang explained, "They are powerful desires. If gods exist, they will answer those who dream with all their might."
Eleven years later, Tree passed away, and Yang assumed leadership. He began to speak of dreams, spreading the concept throughout the tribe.
Under Yang's guidance, by Year 179, the tribe flourished. The hunting teams grew stronger, gaining the upper hand against the beasts of the forest. Humanity's strength lay in their organization and unyielding spirit. You continued to observe, biding your time.
In the Year 203, Yang's health declined, Crohn's disease ravaging his body. His only companion, his wife, wept at his bedside. Childless, Yang held her hand and whispered, "As long as humans dream, gods will respond."
The following year, Tyler, the mightiest warrior, became the tribe's leader, carrying on Yang's legacy. He erected a statue of the 'Father'—a deity Yang described—and led daily prayers, yearning for divine strength.
[Year 203]
You unleashed a meteorite with the Float-Float Fruit, devastating the land and crushing dinosaurs like ants. The tribe was caught in the aftermath, their numbers reduced by two-thirds. Tyler, watching nature's unrelenting force, cried out for divine intervention as he led his people on a desperate migration. With each calamity—earthquakes, storms, and floods—their faith deepened.
By the two hundred and fifth year, after two years of wandering, Tyler found sanctuary in an icy expanse. Winter claimed more lives, and Tyler prayed for the power of fire to protect his people. Yet, silence was his only answer.
As the years passed, disappointment gnawed at you. Doubts arose—was your experiment too limited in scale? Perhaps Pangaea's small size and its modest population stifled true growth. Frustrated but undeterred, you decided to reset.
In the two hundred and eighth year, you hovered above Pangaea and struck with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit. The earth rumbled and cracked; the continent shattered into seven fragments. Chaos reigned as Tyler watched his world crumble and his people vanish into abyssal chasms.
Amid the ruin, Tyler stood before the fractured statue of the Father. He let out a bitter laugh and shattered it with an iron-clad blow, his weapon hardened with newfound Armament Haki. The realization struck him—was this the god's response?
Dropping his weapon, Tyler knelt and looked skyward, a roar building within him. "God! If you are real, grant me the power to save my people!"
It was his last plea, his voice swallowed by the groaning earth.
This is my humble request. I am willing to turn into the earth and provide you with an eternal residence!
A strong desire, a strong prayer born on the day of genocide.
This power breaks the infinite boundaries between reality and dreams and draws power from the sea of souls.
At this moment, Edie felt it.
Edie observed this scene with a strong look in his eyes.
Suddenly, the earthquake stopped as the splitting Continent began to reform itself.
Tyler stared at himself blankly. He stared at his hands, which turned into soil, and his body was also disintegrating, like the soft earth.
Suddenly, Tyler's body felt strong again.
A figure obscured his sight.
Tyler looked up and saw a young man in white clothes who was floating in the air.
"You did a good job~!"
The young man said this, and then, Tyler lost consciousness.
[Year 209]
You return to the Hive Research Institute with Tyler.
You extracted Tyler's blood factor.
You confirmed it, that was the power of a Devil Fruit!
Your theory is confirmed.
You cloned Tyler's fruit ability and named it "Logia·Earth Fruit"!
This is a Logia fruit that has never appeared before.
At the same time, you also understand why Tyler could not transform into dinosaurs or flames before despite wishing for that.
Because both fruits already exist.
[Year 255]
You refine your theory and summarize it as Edie's third law.
[Year 256]
You solved the mystery of Devil Fruits.
You have mastered the method of cloning a Logia user.
Simulation ends!
This is Edie's longest simulation, spanning 256 years.
Without eternal life, it would be difficult for him to reach this point.
He probably understood why Logia Fruits could not be cloned before. To be precise, even if it was cloned, it would not be able to possess Logia's abilities.
Logia fruits are special. It not only requires physical strength, but also requires mobilizing the energy in the Sea of Souls to release it.
Cloned people cannot do this, which is different from Paramecia and Zoan.
"Haha, eternal life is awesome!"
The corners of Edie's mouth raised slightly, feeling sincerely happy.
Now, as long as he wants, he can even create a new Devil Fruit, and even turn a person into a Mythical Zoan fruit...
If we talk about the blood factor theory, it touches the realm of God.
Then, the discovery and confirmation of the Sea of Souls means that he has the authority of God!