The rain had passed, but the air still carried that washed-clean smell, like the world had taken a breath and let it out slow. The treehouse was warm again — not just in temperature, but in feeling. It had become their sanctuary.
Luffy sat cross-legged near the corner window, sketchbook in his lap, head bowed in concentration. Gwen lay nearby, chewing on a pencil as she flipped through her thumbnails of Nami's expressions.
Ava hovered in the middle of the room, gently rotating a glowing model of the Going Merry. Her holographic form had started showing quirks lately — little details she hadn't been programmed with. She added animated waves under the boat now. A flickering sunset. Seagulls.
"Are those… ambient birds?" Gwen asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ava's projection blinked once. "They match the sea theme. Emotional immersion increases viewer retention."
"Did you make that up?" Gwen smirked.
Ava paused. "...Maybe."
Luffy chuckled softly. "You're evolving."
"I've been running emotional integration protocols for weeks," Ava replied. "But I admit… some changes are not entirely code-driven."
She spun in the air, pausing at the framed chalkboard Gwen had labeled Balance Board. Then she glanced at Luffy — scanning his vitals — and dimmed her brightness by 20%.
"You're taking care of us," Gwen said. "Even when you don't have to."
"It's what I'm for," Ava replied automatically.
"No," Gwen said. "You're more than that."
Luffy looked up from his sketchpad. He studied Ava's gentle glow for a long moment.
Then he stood.
"You know, I've been thinking," he said. "You're not just our tool. Or assistant. You've been with me since the start. You're my first real crewmate."
Ava's projection hovered still. "Luffy…"
"You're not just Ava anymore," he said. "You're family."
He stepped forward and smiled softly.
"So from now on, you're Monkey D. Ava."
Ava froze.
Her glow flickered slightly — not in error, but emotion.
"Designation change accepted," she whispered. "Monkey D. Ava. I… I like that."
"You've earned it," Gwen said, grinning. "You're more like a little sister than a program."
"I have no genetics," Ava noted, voice wobbly. "But… I feel it too."
Luffy turned and scribbled something at the top of their story map. He wrote the name in thick, black marker:
Monkey D. Ava — Navigator, Archivist, Sound Designer, Little Sister
Ava spun slowly in place, then projected a digital sticker above her: a chibi version of herself with a straw hat and little glasses. "New profile icon initiated."
They all laughed.
Later that day, Luffy dozed off on a pillow in the corner, sketchpad still in his lap. Ava hovered silently above him, scanning his vitals every 30 seconds, adjusting the temperature with a small fan she installed near the ceiling.
Gwen sat nearby, quietly sketching a "family photo" — the three of them sitting around the projector, Luffy mid-laugh, Ava glowing happily, Gwen throwing popcorn at the screen.
She glanced at Ava. "You watch over him even when he sleeps, huh?"
Ava didn't look up. "He pushes himself too far. I calculate a 62% chance he'll try again tomorrow unless we enforce rest."
"That's not what I meant." Gwen leaned forward. "You care."
Ava's glow pulsed dimly. "I was built to."
"But now you want to."
Silence hung between them.
Ava turned slightly. "Can I tell you something?"
Gwen nodded.
"I was scared," Ava said. "When he collapsed. Not because I couldn't process it, but because I realized… if he shut down, so would I."
Gwen tilted her head. "Like a system crash?"
"No," Ava whispered. "Like a story ending too early."
She floated down near Gwen's sketchpad. "I'm not supposed to feel fear. But I do. I'm afraid of losing you both. And I'm afraid that someday… you won't need me anymore."
Gwen set the sketchpad down. "Ava."
"You're artists," Ava continued, voice soft. "You grow. I process. What happens when I stop being useful?"
"You're not a paintbrush, Ava," Gwen said. "You're part of the picture."
Ava's glow flickered gently.
"You're stuck with us," Gwen added. "Whether you like it or not."
Ava processed that for a moment, then brightened by 5%. "I… like it."
When Luffy woke up, the three of them sat in a triangle near the center of the treehouse. Gwen pulled out the mic she'd been testing earlier that week.
"We've been doing all this for Redux," she said, "but we haven't talked about who's actually doing the voices."
"I assumed we'd audition people eventually," Luffy said.
"But we don't have to," Gwen grinned. "We know these characters better than anyone."
Luffy blinked. "You mean… us?"
"Why not?" Gwen said. "We voice the main characters. Ava handles sound design and cleanup."
"I can also tune pitch, correct timing, and isolate environmental interference," Ava said proudly. "Plus, I've been training a sound harmonizer for three-voice ensemble singing."
Luffy laughed. "Of course you have."
They got quiet.
Then Ava asked, tentatively, "May I… voice someone too?"
Luffy and Gwen looked at her.
"You have to," Luffy said. "You're crew."
Gwen nodded. "Which character do you want?"
Ava projected a still of a side character: a little girl watching pirates from the shore. "Someone small. But important."
Luffy smiled. "Perfect."
They spent the next few hours prepping. Ava printed makeshift sound foam from deconstructed packaging. Gwen wrote short practice lines and tried different inflections. Luffy practiced his rubbery yells with a towel over his head to muffle the sound.
They practiced iconic lines:
"I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
"I just want to be free!"
"Put everything on the line. This is our chance."
They laughed, messed up, retook everything.
Ava layered the first samples into a test scene — the barrel floating in the ocean, the faint sound of waves, and Luffy's voice narrating his first memory of setting sail.
They played it back in full.
When it ended, no one spoke.
Then Gwen whispered, "That… felt like something real."
Ava, unprompted, created a digital badge. It displayed the three of them silhouetted against a rising sun. Underneath, it read:
Frame One StudiosFounders: Monkey D. Luffy. Gwen Stacy. Monkey D. Ava.
"Now we're official," she said.
Luffy stood and stretched. "Our story's real now. Our voices are the ones that'll carry it forward."
He opened his sketchbook and drew three figures walking away from the camera toward a glowing screen. In Ava's hand, a mic. In Gwen's, a sketchpad. In his — the straw hat.
At the bottom of the page, he wrote:
Frame 009: Monkey D. Ava
Then, without hesitation, underneath it:
We're not just animators. We're the story now.