Chapter 1. Birthday Keki
Chapter 1. Birthday Cake
#1. A Slice of Life
I was smiling as I licked the last bits of chocolate frosting from my fingers. The remnants of my birthday cake lay on the table, a delicious, colorful mess of crumbs and icing.
"That was the best cake ever, Mom!" I exclaimed, leaning back in my chair, patting my satisfied belly.
Mom chuckled, shaking her head as she began to clean up. "I'm glad you liked it, Jake. You deserve it. Now, how about you head to bed? It's getting late."
I nodded, feeling exhausted after a long day of excitement. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty tired."
I stood up, stretched, and gave mom a hug. "Thanks again, Mom. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sweetie. Sleep well," she replied, kissing my forehead.
I made my way up the stairs, eager to get to bed. The cozy comfort of my bed was calling to me, and I didn't hesitate to answer. I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and finally slipped under the cool, inviting sheets.
As I closed my eyes, I replayed the day in my mind: the laughter, the presents, the incredible cake.
"Best day ever!" A smile crept onto my face as I drifted off to sleep, feeling content and happy.
***🍕🍔🍟🥚🥠🧀🥐🥨🧈***
A strange sensation forced me to open my eyes. At first, my vision was blurry, and I couldn't quite grasp where I was. Everything seemed to be bathed in a soft, warm glow. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. Slowly, the scene around me began to come into focus.
I was enclosed in a spherical chamber, the walls of which looked like layers of cake. The colors were alive and inviting - pinks, yellows, and whites mixed together like a dreamlike dessert. I reached out and touched the nearest wall, my fingers sinking into the spongy surface, releasing a sweet aroma.
"Where am I?" I whispered to myself, my voice sounding oddly muted, as if absorbed by the sugary surroundings.
The chamber felt alive. The walls pulsed gently, almost as if they were breathing. I turned my head and noticed a thick, translucent cord attached to my belly button. It seemed to be made of spun sugar, shimmering with a golden hue. I followed the cord with my eyes, seeing it lead up to the ceiling of the chamber, pulsating with every beat, sending a stream of golden syrup coursing into my body.
A sudden rush of sweetness filled me, a sensation so intense it was almost overwhelming. I felt the sugar being absorbed into my veins, energizing me in a way I had never experienced before. The chamber contracted slightly, giving me a comforting squeeze, and I wondered if I was in some sort of womb.
"What is this place?" I muttered, glancing around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. "Am I... inside something?"
I pressed my hand against the wall again, feeling the gentle, rhythmic pulse. "It's almost like... it's alive," I mused. "But how can that be? And why does it feel like cake?"
The sugary cord continued to pump the golden syrup into me, each pulse sending a wave of warmth through my body. "Okay, let's think this through," I said aloud, trying to stay calm. "I went to bed after my birthday, and now I'm here. This has to be a dream, right?"
I looked down at the cord attached to my belly button, watching it pulse with the golden liquid. "I've never had a dream this vivid before," I murmured. "And why is this thing attached to me? What is it even doing?"
"It's like it's... feeding me," I realized, my eyes widening. "But why? And with what?"
I reached up to scratch my head and froze. My hand was tiny, with delicate, almost translucent skin, and my fingers were webbed. "What the...?" I stared at my hand in disbelief. "Why are my hands so small? And... webbed?"
I held my hand closer to my face, examining the tiny fingers, each one connected by a thin membrane. "This is definitely not normal," I said, my voice trembling. "And if my hands are like this, what about the rest of me?"
I looked down at my body, seeing that it, too, had shrunk. I was much smaller than my usual self, my limbs short and slightly chubby. "Am I... a baby?" I wondered aloud, my mind racing. "No, not a baby. An embryo?"
The chamber gave another gentle squeeze, and I felt an even stronger rush of sweetness. The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. "I'm an embryo," I said, my eyes wide with shock. "And this... this must be a womb."
I glanced around the chamber again, seeing it with new eyes. The layers of cake, the sweet, pulsing walls, the spun sugar umbilical cord - everything made sense in a bizarre, dreamlike way.
"But how can a womb be made of cake?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around the situation. "And why am I an embryo? This has to be some kind of crazy dream."
I traced the cord with my eyes again, following it to the ceiling. "This doesn't make any sense," I said, shaking my head. "Am I really an embryo? No, that can't be right. I'm too aware, too conscious."
I sat up a little, trying to see more of the chamber. "It's so warm and safe in here," I said softly, feeling a strange sense of comfort. "But it feels like... I'm being nurtured."
The chamber then quaked violently as if in objection to my movement. I felt a great deal of discomfort as I was forced to lay back down. A voice echoed in the chamber, but it was an indistinct, incoherent howl. The only thing I could make out was a sharp '-ma' at the end.
"It's not gentle as I thought," I thought, choosing to stay in a fixed position. "But I still feel safe and warm."
The chamber pulsed again, and I felt another wave of sweetness. "But it feels so real," I repeated, closing my eyes and letting the sensation wash over me. "It's stopping to feel like a dream. Maybe there's more to it."
I opened my eyes and looked around one last time. "Whatever this place is, it feels... right," I admitted. "Like I belong here."
I took a short breath, the sweet aroma filling my lungs. "But as comfortable this is, I can't wait to wake up back in bed and tell my mom all about it," I said, a small smile forming on my lips. "After all, how often do you get to be inside a cake womb?"
I settled into the warm, sugary embrace, feeling a sense of peace and acceptance.
***🍕🍔🍟🥚🥠🧀🥐🥨🧈***
In a massive, dimly lit kitchen, the clattering of utensils and the whirring of mixers created a harmonic sense of urgency. The air was heavy with the rich, sweet aroma of baking cakes. A group of chefs, their white uniforms stained with flour, chocolate, and frosting, moved with desperation and haste. They had been working tirelessly for months, driven by an unrelenting task.
"Another batch of eggs, quickly!" one of the chefs shouted over the din, his voice fighting the exhaustion.
"We're running low on milk," another chef replied, a note of anxiety creeping into her voice as she poured the last drops into a colossal mixing bowl. "We're almost out of everything."
The chefs exchanged worried glances. Their storeroom, once overflowing with ingredients, now held only remnants. They all knew what this meant. Another island would have to be sacrificed, its livestock and resources consumed to satisfy their boss's insatiable craving for the perfect birthday cake.
One chef paused, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Do you remember when this all started? It was supposed to be a simple birthday celebration."
"Yeah," his colleague responded, her hands deftly shaping dough into perfect layers. "But then she wasn't satisfied. Not with the first cake, or the second, or the tenth. Each time, it has to be bigger, more extravagant."
"It's been nine months," another chef muttered, measuring out flour with a shaking hand. "Nine months of baking cakes. How can someone crave a birthday cake for nine whole months?"
The head chef, a short figure with a perpetual frown, sighed heavily. "It's not our place to question why. We just have to keep baking. If we don't, you know what happens."
A shudder ran through the group. They all remembered a day when their boss, in the throes of a hunger pang, had destroyed an entire town in her frenzied search for a cake. They couldn't let that happen again.
"We're almost out of ingredients," the chef who had measured the flour continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need more milk, more eggs. But at what cost?"
"At the cost of another island," the head chef replied grimly. "We don't have a choice. Either we bake another cake, or she destroys everything in her path."
They worked in silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts. The cakes they produced were masterpieces, towering structures of confectionery art. But none had been good enough. None had satisfied her.
"I just don't get it," one of the younger chefs said, breaking the silence. "Why a birthday cake? Why for nine months? It's like... it's like she's waiting for something."
The head chef was about to respond when a commotion erupted outside the kitchen. A servant burst through the doors, his face pale and eyes wide with shock.
"She's in the labor room!" he exclaimed.
The chefs froze, their utensils clattering to the floor. "Labor room?" the head chef repeated, his mind racing. "You mean... she's pregnant?"
The servant nodded frantically. "Yes! All this time, we thought she was just... indulging too much. But she's been pregnant! She's about to give birth!"
The realization hit the chefs like a wave. The insatiable craving for a birthday cake, the nine months of constant baking, it all made sense now. She wasn't just craving a cake - she was nurturing a new life.
"She's been eating for two," one of the chefs whispered, awe and fear mingling in her voice. "All those cakes... they were for her and the baby."
"But she has had so many conceptions before..." another shuddered. "None of them have been like this?"
"Is she going to give birth to another like her?" Another completed the thought.
"Another like her?!" All their faces turned pale with imagination. "We are doomed."
The head chef took a deep breath, steadying himself. "We need to finish this cake," he said betraying all sense of calm. "We also need one - for the child too."
The chefs sprang into action, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. They worked harder than they ever did in the entire nine months.
Outside the kitchen, the cries of the newborn echoed through the halls, mingling with the sweet, tantalizing scent of the cake. The chefs knew that they were racing against time, but for the first time in months, they felt a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps, at last, their boss would be satisfied. And maybe, just maybe, peace would return to their world.
"Birthday... Keeeekiiii...!!!" The strong voice of their boss demanding for the cake from the labor room only got them moving with uneasy speed.
***🍕🍔🍟🥚🥠🧀🥐🥨🧈***
I waited and waited, expecting to wake up from this strange dream. Days, maybe weeks, passed, but I never woke up. I remained in the warm, sweet chamber, sustained by the pulsating sugar from the umbilical cord. Time became meaningless. I couldn't tell how long I had been here. The rhythm of the womb was my only constant, a steady beat that lulled me into a dazed existence.
Each day, I wondered about the outside world. Would I ever leave this sugary sanctuary? What was happening beyond these cake-like walls? My tiny, webbed hands had grown slightly, but they were still delicate and small. I felt more aware, more conscious of my surroundings, yet still trapped within this surreal confectionery chamber.
One day, the pulsing rhythm changed. The walls around me contracted, squeezing me gently at first, then more forcefully. The strange sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying.
"What's happening?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The contractions became more intense, pushing me downward. I realized with a shock that I was being born. My tiny body was being propelled through a narrow passage, the sugary umbilical cord still attached, guiding me toward the unknown.
"Is this it? Am I finally waking up?" I wondered aloud and hopeful.
The journey was overwhelming. The passage tightened, then released, squeezing me through with rhythmic precision. I felt a mixture of fear and excitement as I moved closer to whatever awaited me outside.
Suddenly, I was pushed out into a blinding light. The warmth of the womb was replaced by a cool, unfamiliar air. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. I was free, but still disoriented.
"Where am I?" I gasped, struggling to focus.
A pair of strong, gentle hands lifted me, cradling me with surprising tenderness. I squinted up at the face above me, a broad smile framed by wild, curly hair. Her eyes were wide with excitement, and her voice was warm and kind.
"It looks as beautiful as cake," she cooed, her tone soft and adoring. But then, her expression changed. Her eyes widened with a wild, hungry gleam. "Now where is my Birthday KEEEKIIII...?!"
Her shout was deafening, filled with an intense, almost crazed fervor. I recoiled slightly, the sound vibrating through my tiny body. I was held close to her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat.
"Mama... mama," she murmured, her voice switching between gentle and sharp. The second "mama" had a distinct, sharper tone that sent a shiver down my spine.
Recognition hit me like another tidal wave. "Big Mom," I whispered, my mind reeling. "I'm... Big Mom's child?"
I looked up at her in shock. The realization was overwhelming. The cake womb, the sugary umbilical cord, the insatiable craving for birthday cake - it all made sense now. I was born from this twisted confectionery obsession.
"What did I do to deserve this?" I thought, my mind racing. "Why am I here? How am I in One Piece?"
Big Mom, Charlotte Linlin, looked down at me with a mix of adoration and madness. Her eyes, filled with both love and an insatiable hunger, bore into mine.
"Mama's precious baby," she crooned, her voice dripping with sweetness. "But now, where is my birthday cake?!"
"I want to eat my birthday keeekiii..." she drooled, and I shuddered at the thought of her choosing to eat me if the cake got delayed.
The chefs rushed into the room, carrying a gigantic, elaborate cake. Their faces were pale with fear and exhaustion, but they presented the cake with trembling hands.
"Here it is, Mama," one of them said, his voice shaking. "Your birthday cake, just as you wanted."
Big Mom's eyes lit up with glee. She placed me gently in a cradle...- why lie? She thrust me violently aside as if I was an obstacle in her path, her full attention turned to the cake. Luckily, I got caught by one of the people surrounding her with a really long tongue and a weird 'peroli' catch-phrase. He placed me gently on a cradle while calling me brother.
Big Mom tore into the cake with the ferocity of a wild animal that left me stunned, her hunger insatiable. I watched her devour the cake, feeling a both confused and fearful. I was born into this world of sweets and madness, the child of a woman whose cravings shaped my very existence.
"How am I going to survive this?" I wondered, feeling a sense of helplessness. "What kind of life awaits me as Big Mom's child?"
The reality of my situation settled over me like a heavy blanket. I was no longer just Jake. I was a part of Big Mom's world now, a world of endless hunger and confectionery chaos. And there was no waking up from this dream.
And to make matters worse-
"MORE! MORE! I want moree!" Big Mom finished devouring the cake, and her hunger wasn't satisfied.
Then, her hunger pangs started.
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C/N: Currently writing JJK: Endlessly Leveling with Cursed Energy, but could work on this every now and then depending on reader morale.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone