Most of Erza's party members walked through the hollow, empty tunnels confidently and purposefully. Natsu and Zeref? Not a chip on their shoulders. Lucy, however, was the giveaway. Her steps were halted and she nervously twisted her keys through her fingers. Jellal was right, there was something going on with the Den. She checked over her shoulder. Only tunnel. And ahead. The same. If there was an ambush, it wasn't here.

Erza realized she was being left behind. "Wait!"

"No time, keep up."

Erza flexed her grip on her gun and lengthened her steps. She had both Zeref and Natsu in her sights and Jellal's words were spinning through her mind. Kill Zeref then Natsu. Because of the two, Zeref was the more unpredictable one. She had no illusions, she'd have to kill Natsu shortly after, but she might have a chance at that.

And then what about Lucy? She didn't want to think about that fallout. Or what Lucy might do to avenge her beau.

Zeref stopped by a large metal door and listened through for a moment. He waved Natsu over and fire spun in the centre of Natsu's palm. Erza felt the heat from it and wondered if Jellal was wrong—if she shouldn't kill Natsu first. Burning alive seemed like a terrible way to die.

The smell of smouldering iron filled the air, pungent. Erza watched silver runners of molten metal streaked down the door and puddle on the floor where it could cool and reharden. In no time, the lock was melted away and Natsu pushed the door open. On the other side was a tray of food, half-eaten, a mostly-empty bottle of whisky, and the smell of burning skin; it clung to the walls and filled Erza's nose.

"Ultear," Natsu said. "And Laxus."

Zeref nodded and turned on his heel, shoving past Erza. She caught herself on the door that still held most of the heat from Natsu's fire. She stood immediately and avoided getting burned. "Where are you going?"

"If they're not in here, they're in the ring," Zeref said. He looked more agitated than usual.

"Together?" Erza asked.

"Of course."

Natsu swore and broke into a run. His urgency was catching. Erza fell into step behind him and behind her was Lucy and Zeref.

The hallway sloped, making her footsteps seem exaggerated and staggered. Erza didn't dare slow; she didn't want to be left behind.

Natsu seemed to know exactly where he was going, making a sharp left down a much smaller corridor, at the top of which was two guards. Erza saw flames spark in Natsu's hand and watched it catch the guards from the hem of their pants and up. Despite the fire, they started shooting. Most of the gunfire went wild, but one bullet smacked into the wall beside Erza's ear, so close, she felt bits of concrete hit her skin and was momentarily deaf. That seemed to stress Zeref out more. Dark magic came from his hands and tore the guards apart without mercy. There were no more shots after that.

Erza stared at the mess numbly. Lucy was sweat-slicked and pale. Natsu took her hand and grimly promised, "Bullets next time."

"Hurry up." Zeref walked through the macabre scene without a second thought and pushed the doors open.

Bright light hit her eyes and the sharp ring of a gunshot hit her ears. She lifted her gun and squinted to see. First, her eyes focused on Laxus standing on the stage with the gun Jellal had given Mira in his hand, Ultear beside him, clenching the ropes of the ring, next her attention was snagged by a falling man. Makarov Dreyar, with a small hole in his forehead. The backside of his head would look worse if the spray of blood on Precht was anything to go by.

There was a pregnant pause and then the room erupted in chaos. People started running in every direction. Erza was pushed back against the wall by a very large and sweaty man and kept there by a sea of bodies rushing to vacate the stadium. More gunshots were fired. Erza tried pushing ahead to see who was firing at whom but any time she tried, she was jarred. The last time she met with someone's shoulder, she was pushed to the ground and stepped on by what felt like a hundred feet.

She knew the danger immediately, she was going to get trampled to death, but she couldn't see a way out. All around was stomping feet. Someone kicked her temple and Erza saw stars.

Desperate, she fired her gun upwards in hopes of scaring people away. It worked for a moment. She looked backwards and saw Lucy against the wall. She had out her keys and her eyes were closed. There was a flash of golden light and then Erza felt herself getting picked up and transported. She was dropped back against the wall by a massive goat-man.

"Thank you, Capricorn," Lucy said loudly and dismissed him. "Are you okay?" she yelled in Erza's ear; Erza barely heard her over the noise.

"Yes." Nothing was broken, anyway, and she wasn't dead, so how could she complain? And the crowd was dissipating. What was left was barren stands full of garbage, floors slicked with drinks and two trampled bodies, one of a boy no older than sixteen, and one of a woman who had surrounded herself with furs. There were others dead, too, men that Erza assumed had been Precht's guards, though those had efficiently been shot in the head or chest by Dragneel bullets.

She looked back at the ring. Laxus had dropped down behind it and was holding his gun with the nose pointed to the ceiling, listening and watching for enemies. He glanced at Erza, Lucy, and then Natsu and Zeref on the other side of the room, and Ultear behind him, telling her, "Go."

Ultear shook her head. Laxus hissed at her again and she hunkered down lower, making her stance.

Erza watched him dismiss her and refocus. When he lifted his voice, it was so loud, it made Erza jump. "Come out, Precht! I know you're still in here. Show yourself."

"Was that Miss Scarlet I saw out there?" Precht's voice came from nowhere Erza could discern.

Laxus glanced back at Erza. "She's here."

"As per my agreement with your mother, Miss Scarlet, you may leave. Walk out of this place with immunity for as long as your mother and I are allies."

"I don't condone what my mother's doing." Erza was glad her voice came out strong. "I don't need the immunity or favours."

"If you decline and you remain, you give me no choice but to treat you as my enemy."

"So be it."

The pressure in the room changed and the hair on the back of Erza's neck stood on end. She hunted for the source and found it in the form of a massively growing ball of magic. She lifted her gun and aimed and squeezed off three shots. Her aim was perfect, she knew, but her bullets didn't go anywhere. It was like they hit a barrier and fell to the ground, useless.

The ball of magic burgeoned and swelled and the first of what was many magical projectiles erupted from its core.

"Get down!" Natsu yelled and everyone dropped to the floor. Erza pulled Lucy behind the stadium and together they huddled in hopes of outlasting the barrage. It went on for what felt like minutes and when finally, it was over, the north corner of the fight ring broke apart. That wasn't the only casualty. A piece of the stadium fell to the floor, something wooden croaked, one of the lights overhead swung on its last wire and then crashed to the ground in a gush of glass.

Then silence. Eventually, it was punctuated by a voice. "Come out, Laxus, if you can."

Erza peeked around the edge of the stadium. Laxus and Ultear were still huddled behind the ring. Laxus was gripping his bleeding leg and looking pale. Ultear asked him a question. He tried to stand and his leg gave out.

"Laxus?" Precht goaded. "Are you dead?"

Laxus lifted his voice. "Not a chance, old man."

"Then you're feeling cowardly?"

Laxus muttered something to Ultear and she gave him a drab look. She held out her hand. She wanted Laxus' gun. He shook his head. While they silently argued about that, Erza peeked around the stadium again in an attempt to spot Precht. She couldn't see him but thought the corner space by the back exit was a little darker than everywhere else.

Erza aimed her gun and fired. Immediately following the rapport, whatever had been hiding Precht dissipated and he clenched his arm. He had no problem zeroing in on Erza's location. She squeezed off more rounds in an attempt to disrupt whatever it was he was going to do. Once again, her bullets went nowhere useful.

Erza reloaded. She was locking the clip in place when something cold punched through her chest. It didn't hurt, exactly, it just felt wrong. She looked down and saw the sharpened edges of a chain of what she could only call light, and then felt her body get jerked away from a yelling Lucy.

She was pulled over broken glass and dragged through sticky pop and crumbs of popcorn and spent cigarette butts, and then she was lifted into the air and slammed against the wall hard, twice.

Dazedly, she slipped to the ground. The chain of light disappeared from her chest and everything got incredibly cold. Does that mean I'm dying, she wondered and blinked to try to clear her hazy vision.

She saw ice. At first, she was confused because she didn't see Gray but then Ultear slipped into view trailing ice crystals. Nothing was much clearer after that but she figured that that wasn't the cold grips of death closing on her, at least not yet.

Another barrage of magical projectiles filled the stadium. Erza curled in on herself and turned toward the wall for protection. Ultear yelled something incomprehensible. Black tendrils and fire joined the fray. The air soaked in magic and then

Everything stopped.

Someone stepped over glass to her right. "Well. This is not the evening we talked about."

Her mother, the showstopper, had arrived. Erza peeked through her lashes. Eileen had her hand extended to catch a projectile that would have assuredly skewered Erza to the wall. She squeezed and the magic vanished. "You surprise me, Erza. I thought you would have been with Jellal. And you, Zeref. The last time we spoke, you informed me that you would be with the group going to see Acnologia."

"They changed plans last minute," Zeref said from somewhere to Erza's right. "I couldn't get word."

"To throw us off, no doubt. That Fernandez boy is tricky." Eileen smiled the smile Erza didn't recognize. "Now we have to rely on Rogue and Juvia and Acnologia to do their jobs, and Anna to not interfere."

Zeref stepped from behind the stadium on the other side of the room. "They'll pull through."

"You're working together?" Erza blurted.

"We have a common goal," Eileen replied. "Topple the king."

"And to topple the king, we have to take out his pawns. I know it's unsavoury business, Eileen, but step aside and let me finish here," Precht spoke.

"You're no longer part of this pact," Eileen said simply.

"Pardon?"

"Everyone has agreed, you've violated our agreements one too many times and you're too unpredictable. Like Acnologia must, you will die tonight. What's left of Grimoire will be signed to us by your beneficiary, Ultear Milkovich. She, of course, will get a small profit, too."

"You can't—"

"I can. Anna agrees. This is a better deal."

Precht's neck muscles flexed when he clenched his jaw. "I never knew you to be such a traitor."

"I'm not typically. I made a special concession for this occasion because you're such a bastard."

"How dare you?" Precht lifted his hand. Erza tensed, thinking he had a gun or something, but he pulled his eyepatch from his eye. She couldn't look away. There was a void there and not the regular eye-is-missing sort. The kind that led to beyond. Magic sloughed off him in sickening waves.

"Enough." Eileen only lifted her hand and Precht's eye exploded in blood. He gasped and clapped his hand over it, staunching the flow and whatever magic he was summoning.

"Do you know why no one deals with you, Gaebolg?" Eileen queried calmly. "Why Makarov sold to Jellal and not you? Why, when I asked Zeref to renege on his deal, he did gladly, why Anna was willing to stab you in the back once she was in the position to take back control of her life?" She hardly gave him a moment to sputter and huff. "It's because you're a bastard. You've broken every deal you've ever made once you thought you had control over the participants, you betrayed every friend you ever had. You threw your own daughter in a fight ring with a man twice her size, for god's sake, as punishment. You're an animal. I mean, Laxus would rather shoot his own flesh and blood in the head than give you a means to control him.

"I imagine you knew somewhere in that thick skull of yours that this would catch up with you, but you tried to play the odds. Sometimes, it works, and other times, you lose everything. Today, I'm here to collect. The first order of business is, I promised the Dragon's Den that their members would be safe with us but Sting is dead by your man Bluenote's hand, so…" She snapped her fingers and Bluenote appeared out of thin air, looking dazzled and confused.

"What—"

"You're here to pay retribution for your careless act when you ran the Dragon's Den off the road." Erza thought her mother looked like some kind of red goddess then, commanding and handing out punishments as she saw fit, waving her ringed fingers toward Bluenote impatiently. "Go ahead, Zeref. Take your revenge so we can move past this."

Zeref stepped out completely and stood in front of Bluenote. The air around him glittered with malevolence. "Very well. I'll leave you the way Sting was left."

Erza tried to close her eyes, she did, but was frozen as shadowy blades as corporeal as any steel formed and cut Bluenote in two at the middle. His legs fell forward; his torso fell back so all she could do was peek into a gushing red mess. Bile scalded her throat. She swallowed.

Eileen was unaffected. "Good. Your other men are already either dead or loyal to me, which brings us to our last bit of business. You, Precht." She looked back at Erza. "I would do the honours myself but I know I, at least, would appreciate the chance to kill the man that tried to kill me. Go ahead, he won't fight back." She did something then and it was like Precht was paralyzed, staring wide-eyed at Eileen and jittering. Erza could feel him reach for his magic again and again but there was nothing there.

"Erza?" Eileen asked.

Erza gathered her meaning but could only stare.

Ultear was less forgiving. "If you won't do it, I will." She swayed to Erza's side and wrenched the gun out of Erza's loose fingers.

"Ultear," Precht said. "Don't."

In direct defiance, Ultear stalked forward with purpose and hit Precht hard in the gut without warning. He bent double and Ultear pushed him to his knees and wrenched his head back by his thinning grey hair. Her gun she shoved against his teeth so hard, he had no choice but to open his mouth. "You'll never make me feel this way again."

Just like before, Erza couldn't look away while Ultear pulled the trigger.

It had been a long time since Jellal was on good enough terms with Precht to frequent this place but his memory was excellent and brought him through tiled hallways lit with lights dangling from the ceiling by chains. Everything was very put together, underground, yes, but tidy. There was nothing to suggest that these tunnels had been dug for the purpose of examining bloodthirst. There was nothing to suggest that men, and, on special nights, women, had been dragged by the elbows through these very tunnels by burly men because they were too badly beaten to stand, let alone walk. Everyone that lost was thrown out in the alley behind the leather shop. Only some had people waiting to take care of them.

People died like that, and when they did, Precht had his goons take their bodies and dump them someplace they wouldn't be a bother to him. There was a lot of times when the bodies were found, those deaths were ruled muggings or assaults. It was hard to tell how much the police actually knew and how much was purchased ignorance.

The fighters that won were taken care of in another room, patched up so they could fight again at a later date.

The sound of a gunshot made Jellal tense.

Juvia said, "It came from the rings."

"Do you want me to look?" Rogue offered.

"No," Jellal said. "We stick together." He made a left down a long concrete corridor and at its terminus was a set of stairs. At the top was a viewing room he thought he'd find his father in. He'd want to stand vigil above the fight rings and see everything first-hand.

Distantly, Jellal heard more gunfire and the grounds shook with a barrage of some kind. His anxiety rose. Was that Erza's gun going off? There was no way to tell, of course, but his imagination was good. Good enough it made him antsy.

Two men appeared out of nowhere. Juvia sliced one's neck open with an attack that soaked the ground with blood and water, and Rogue's shadows grabbed the other and forced him back against the wall so hard, his head burst open.

Jellal's shoes splashed through the bloody water and the feeling of superiority was catching. He felt like he had before his mother and father arrived from Alvarez. Back when he was in charge and everyone catered to his whim. Back when people tripped over the opportunity to do business with him and no one dared to cross him. You are your father's son, Jellal thought ruefully as he started on the steps that would lead him to his prize. Full of too much hubris and pride.

He mounted the carpeted stairs without taking the mahogany handhold, wanting both hands free. He moved quietly and was glad when, at the top, he saw two more guards standing in front of a single door. They spoke in low voices and didn't notice him immediately. He lifted his gun, aimed, and fired without mercy, one bullet in the one on the left, two for the one on the right because he moved to pull his own weapon out and was shot in the shoulder instead of the chest.

With Rogue and Juvia as an entourage, Jellal topped the stairs, coming onto a small square of a landing now pooling with blood, and stepped over the bodies of the fallen. There was a door waiting to be opened. He grabbed it with a hand that was a little too sweaty for his liking and opened it slowly, barrel of his pistol going in first.

The sound of the chaos happening in the fight ring below was completely drowned out by cement walls and a thick pane of glass. Crackling fire made up the sound in the room; a fire was burning in a hearth and in front of that was a long, dark wood table where his father knelt with his elbows propped, hands clasped around dark prayer beads, head bowed. When he was young, Jellal disturbed his father's prayers and left with his hide tanned. Now he was a man and, somehow, ridiculously, no less fearful of interrupting. He waited patiently for his father to acknowledge they were there.

Finally, Acnologia lifted his head and stood, using fingers that were wrinkled with age and curled like claws. He looked old just then. "You succeeded in your mission then?"

"He's unharmed, as promised," Rogue said.

"Good. Leave us."

"Signor," Juvia began. "He's—"

"My son. I know better than you what he's capable of," Acnologia said. "Leave. Quickly now." There was urgency in his voice.

Juvia backed out with Rogue's wrist clenched in her fingers. The door slapped closed after her. Jellal took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Seems I was right to be cautious of Zeref's loyalty."

"Your madre has learned a few tricks in our years of marriage," Acnologia said. "I'm almost proud of her for buying your rivals loyalty with your own money."

"Yes, well, that makes one of us," Jellal muttered.

"Come." Acnologia moved from the table to a stuffed chair by the windows. Jellal followed and put himself down in the matching chair opposite. Like civilized men, Acnologia adjusted his waistcoat and then took up the decanter of scotch he had and pulled up the crystalline cap. Two glasses were poured. It wasn't Haig's Gold Label, as Laxus claimed Precht was so fond of leaving out, this was something much finer. Jellal wasn't surprised, Acnologia enjoyed the best of things and never would have settled for anything less, despite what Precht said.

"You made it sound urgent."

"It is, but I will make time for this." He handed Jellal the drink and sipped his own. "Neither of us will leave this building as the men we entered, and if it is up to the Sorceress, we won't leave at all. Especially not after you brought the Scarletta."

"She's an excellent shot, I couldn't imagine leaving her at home."

"Like you couldn't imagine sending her away."

"It was love," Jellal said glibly.

"Love makes fools out of us and dooms us."

"I can't tell if you're stalling for time or trying to bore me with wisdoms."

"Neither, I want to tell you how I've made the best out of an… interesting situation," Acnologia confessed.

"How about instead you tell me why you've lowered yourself to playing second fiddle to a man like Precht?"

Acnologia laughed. "Precht, too, is a puppet. All of us, puppets in your Madre's theatre."

"Go ahead then." Jellal sat back and waved his father on. "Dazzle me with a wondrous tale."

Erza was breathing fast enough, Laxus thought she'd pass out. Ultear, too, was noisy, though he suspected that her elevated breathing was a result of elation rather than horror. She was a different breed of girl altogether, cold, once the shock of being hit by a truck had worn off and she had stopped bleeding and was given the means to extract some revenge.

"Thank you, Miss Milkovich," Eileen said. "I don't suppose you'll give us trouble about the signings?"

Ultear shook back her lopped and matted hair and rubbed her hand over her blood-dotted brow. "I'll sign but I want a portion of the profits turned. Twenty-percent."

"Ten," Eileen said.

"Eighteen," Ultear bartered back, "Or no deal. I die, Grimoire, Vesper, Sentence Six, it all gets claimed by the bank and you have to scrounge up the profits to buy it."

"You're shrewd," Eileen said with a smile. "Very well."

Erza used the wall to get to her feet. "You can't—"

"People have been telling me that my whole life, my love. I'll tell you what I tell them. I can. Zeref, if you would?"

Laxus tensed when Zeref crossed the room to Erza and took her by the wrist. She punched him in the face and in the gut and he took both without letting her go.

"Don't be too rough with her," Eileen warned a moment before Zeref stepped into shadow with a struggling Erza and disappeared.

"Where are they taking her?" Laxus asked foolishly. Honestly, he thought himself smart enough to just slink away but apparently not.

"Somewhere safe while this storm passes," Eileen said. "Natsu, as promised, you and Lucy are free to go. Use the back entrance, policemen are coming and I imagine they'll be here soon."

"Thanks," Natsu said and took Lucy's hand. She said something to him that Laxus missed but he caught her meaning well enough. She wasn't entirely comfortable with this. Which meant he, Laxus, certainly wasn't.

Laxus took a step, two.

"Not so fast," Eileen said and then Laxus was at the mercy of another abrupt change of scenery. It was so disorienting he fell to his knees on a floor he was familiar with—porous concrete, cold, soaked in blood and filthy with the leavings of bandages and wraps, scissors lay just feet away, opened, cotton stuck between its jaws, his tray full of cold food, the leavings of his breakfast.

Eileen weathered the magic well. She leaned against one grey wall, a splash of colour in the otherwise drab room, her red hair and a silvered sword that glittered by the lightbulb.

Laxus picked himself up from the ground, thinking if he was going to die, it wasn't going to be on his knees.

"Mister Dreyar." Eileen's voice still gave him chills. Or was it the scrape of her sword's tip over the ground? She came to stand centimetres from his toes and he still hadn't gotten up. Her matted lips moved again. "Before you start fighting for your life, I have a proposition for you."

Jellal tapped his fingers on his knees in irritation. "They've thought of everything."

"Yes. As I said, your mother was cleverer than I gave her credit for. And more heartless."

The doorway to the hallway opened and Anna entered. She'd done herself up like she was going out, a small white hat on her golden hair, cheeks rouged, a pink ascot around her throat.

"Madre." Jellal couldn't help but see her in a new light. The woman she used to be had died but he couldn't pinpoint when. That, above all else, bothered him.

"Piccola Stella." Fingernails painted pink moved through his hair. Jellal closed his eyes and could actually feel it. That and her lips pressing into his cheek just in front of his ear.

"Is she dead?"

"Your Constable? No. She's safe, her mother has seen to that."

Jellal waited for relief. It didn't come and he recognized why—his mother was a liar. Who was to say she wasn't lying about this, too?

Anna's next words were directed at Acnologia. "Is it as we thought?"

"Of course. He is my son," Acnologia said.

That didn't feel like a compliment.

"And does he understand?"

"Yes."

"Does he like it, though? No," Jellal answered. "No, he does not. This is underhanded."

"Maybe. But I'm doing this because I love you."

"You have a strange way of showing it, Madre."

Her mouth twitched; her breath, hot, brushed against his cheek. "Love shows itself in a great many weird and fantastic ways."

Nothing about this felt fantastic.

"Step back, il mio amore. I will do it," Acnologia commanded.

Anna put one more kiss on Jellal's temple and squeezed him tight around the shoulders, and then she was gone and Jellal was looking down a pistol's barrel. It was disappointing how little Acnologia hesitated in pulling the trigger.