What if the power to reshape reality lay not in strength, but in belief?
You watch as Zoro, the eternal wanderer, faces a foe that should be his perfect counter—an enemy whose arrows guide movement, whose power dictates direction. But the greatest flaw in their plan is Zoro himself. What if a man who never knows the right path is immune to being led astray? What if his curse is, for once, his salvation?
Loki stands, battered and broken, his bravado flickering. “Looks like I’m going to lose this round,” he mutters, but you wonder—did he foresee this? Did the liar king, the trickster, glimpse his own defeat before the battle even began? If so, why does he not resist? Does he know something no one else does?
And then there’s Usopp. The liar, the dreamer, the one who spins grand tales of victories he’s never had. But what if, just this once, his stories became real?
You see it now—the impossible taking shape. The power of the dream fruit is no mere nightmare conjurer; it is the force of imagination made manifest. Usopp, whose entire life has been built upon the fictions he weaves, may be the perfect wielder. If dreams can shape the battlefield, then Usopp’s mind—filled with towering warriors, legendary battles, and the hero he always wished to be—becomes the greatest weapon of all.
And what of the Holy Knights? They came with power, with purpose, believing themselves unstoppable. But what if they never stood a chance? What if their enemy is not just muscle and might, but the boundless creativity of a storyteller who has never stopped believing in the impossible?
Yet, a darker truth lingers. If dreams do not vanish upon waking, then what happens when the nightmare does not end? What happens when fear becomes a permanent part of reality?
The pieces move, the game unfolds, and you can’t help but wonder—was Elbaf always meant to be saved by warriors? Or was it always a land waiting for a storyteller to bring its legends to life?
