The sound of the door opening drew their attention once more, with Mira motioning for Carla to join Wendy in the treatment room. As they watched the lone female exceed disappear behind the curtain that blocked their view, Mira pulled them all closer to where the Connells were still seated, so they wouldn't need to strain to hear the update. The sooner to get Asuka home to a real bed.

As she turned to face them all, the red and puffiness around her eyes didn't instill a lot of hope.

"The grafts failed," she said with no prelude, "The damage was too severe, and infection was already setting in. We had to remove them completely. He'll have to start all over again, with all new grafts. It'll be at least a month before he can even get the starter grafts… Um, he also has a lot of bruises and some burns, and he breathed in a lot of smoke. He got sliced up a lot. It took a while to stitch everything closed. The wounds in his hands were pretty deep, and he won't be able to use them much, or the stitches will tear, so…"

"That won't be a problem. Natsu, Wendy and I will make sure one of us is always there until he can Gesture again," promised Loke. He made a mental note to approach Laxus next time he saw him, to see if he could lip read as well. Wouldn't hurt to try.

"Are you okay, nee-chan?" asked Lisanna.

"*sniff* I'm fine. It could have been so much worse. Losing the grafts was hard. We knew it was a lost cause as soon as we got a good look at them, but still… And I know it's not the end of the world. He can get new ones. But it's so frustrating! It's like he's starting all over again!"

"He's not gonna take having a hole in his chest again very well," said Cana.

"It's worse than that. I'm pretty sure he's had nightmares about that very thing," said Lyon, reminding Natsu and Happy of that nightmare they'd witnessed not that long ago.

"Can we see him?" asked Lucy.

"Yes. We're gonna keep him in there for privacy, but you all can stay with him all you want. Porlyusica is talking with Master now about arranging for more surgeries and other treatments. She also suggested that someone go to his house and bring Joy over to stay with him. She says it would help."

Lisanna quickly volunteered, enlisting Happy's help in bringing along anything a young kitten would need for a prolonged stay in a strange place.

"You should also bring his meds, and any items you think he'd want for comfort," said Loren, "A favorite blanket or an item of clothing. He's limited to touch and sound at the moment. He'll be on oxygen until the morning, but perhaps by then, you can bring in a fragrance he likes as well. Anything that would engage his senses, but not in an overwhelming way, could help draw him out from wherever he is right now."

"Snow drops!" Lyon exclaimed, "It's one of his favorite scents. I'll go to the nursery tomorrow morning. A live plant would be better than picking them from the garden. Also, you should bring his Frosch pillow. He always keeps it close when he's feeling down. Happy, you remember where the meds are. Bring the whole box. And also… please feed his fish."

"Aye, sir!" Happy yelled as he raced out the door, Lisanna close behind.

"I'm afraid I must leave now. I've already missed my train home, but I may still be able to catch another one before more snow comes. I truly wish I could stay, but I have other appointments tomorrow," Loren said.

"No, of course. You have other responsibilities, and we wouldn't dare ask you to put yourself out more than you already have. We can't thank you enough for all you've done. Please have a safe journey. We look forward to your next visit, Loren-san," Erza said with a slight bow.

"Mira and I are going home. We'll walk you to the station. It's on the way" offered Elfman. They'd also be able to get a better description of that mysterious mage from him as well.

As everyone was about to enter the treatment room, Lucy noticed the Connells were getting ready to leave, a still sleeping Asuka held snuggly to Alzack's shoulder while Bisca gathered their things.

"You're going home, then?" whispered Lucy.

"We are. We wished we could see him now, but we think it'd be better to wait until he's a little better. If Asuka were to wake up in there, and he's still… She'd already thought the worse had happened when you were bringing him in. She saw all the blood, and before that, all the fighting… I... I had to wash his blood off her hands. It's still in her clothes... in her hair... There was so much... "

Her voice having gone more quiet with each sentence, she had to shake herself from those dark thoughts in order to continue, "*Ahem* We're just afraid seeing him like he is now would be too much for her," said Bisca.

"I understand. More than I wish to. Don't feel bad. He'd want you to do what you think is right for her, too. I'll let you know if anything changes. Good night."

When Lucy returned to the others, she found they had waited for her. Natsu grabbed her hand in support, and she discovered she truly needed it. Who knew Natsu could be so perceptive?

"You ready?" he asked.

"... No. Never. Let's go."

As they all filed in, they took up spots throughout the spacious room. Lyon was quick to take the chair across the bed from Wendy's, and reminded himself that this was not the worst shape Gray had ever been in.

He'd been stripped of all his clothes, and laid covered only by a thin sheet from the waist down. Mira had done a good job of washing the blood, soot, and ashes off of him. Thick wads of gauze, already spotted with blood, were packed into the all too familiar chest wound, and held in place by tape and bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulder. There were lines of stitches or large bandaids strewn all along his arms, and across his torso, while a long row of stitches began precariously close to his throat, before disappearing below the dressings. Amazingly, none of those wounds appeared over the seals on his abdomen.

No one had even yet considered what would have happened if that swordsman had managed to nick the seals in such a way as to change the rules that governed them. The results could have been minor, or absolutely catastrophic. It was a testament to Erza's training and to Gray's defensive skills that no harm had come to them.

Both of his hands were wrapped in bandages, with wads of gauze held firmly against each palm by those wrappings. The knuckles were bruised and battered, with small burns evident as well. In fact, there were small burns all over his neck and shoulders. At least they weren't serious, but would that fact comfort him? Most of them doubted.

The worst were his eyes. They were open, but so lifeless. If he heard them, his eyes gave no clue to that fact, never moving to follow the source of any noise in the room. They'd always held a vacant look to them since he'd lost his sight, but at least before, they were alert and conveyed emotion. Scarred as they were, even the hardiest among his friends had never been able to keep eye contact with him for very long, not unless he wore his sunglasses. Now it was hard to pull away from that empty gaze.

Wendy hadn't looked up from Gray's hand, which she held in both of her smaller ones. She absentmindedly stroked his knuckles, and the scarred sides of his fingers, a throwback to how several of them had done the same for him in his early days at the hospital in Iris. To Lyon, it looked as though she did that more for herself than for Gray. He couldn't help but to remember the young girl who had shown up at his guild almost two years ago. For the sake of his brother, he had taken a personal responsibility for her, and had watched over her as she'd made new friends, and regained a confidence she had lost along with her former guild.

The Wendy he saw now reminded him of the lost little girl from back then.

"Wendy?" he asked.

Still looking down, she sighed, then quietly replied, "I pulled two bullets out of you today. I closed your wounds in moments, and moved on to helping Porlyusica-san patch Natsu back together. He was up and walking around in minutes. Then we came here, and I was treating people left and right. Guild mates and citizens alike, they came in hurt, and I sent them away good as new… Then Lucy and Loke came in with Gray, but instead of helping him, Porlyusica-san told me to stay out there, to heal the others. And she was right. Everyone else needed me. But so did he. And I couldn't do anything for him. I can never do anything to help him—"

She broke off as Erza kneeled beside her, pulling her into a comforting hug. She hadn't noticed the warble in her voice, or the tears dripping down her face, but Carla found her way onto her lap and let the young girl hug her close. The young girl. So often, everyone in this room had forgotten that the strong, capable, and reliable warrior and healer was also the youngest among them. She was just a young girl. How could they have missed the fact that she had taken so much onto her shoulders? What must it feel like to have such an awesome gift, the power to heal, but to be unable to use it on one of your closest friends?

"How can you say that?" asked Natsu, "Except for Lyon, you've done more for him than any of us. I never could have sat still long enough to be able to learn all the stuff you've been learning. Do you know how hard it is for a wizard to not use magic? Most people would have given up and passed the problem on to someone else, but you stuck with it, and worked hard, and got way stronger, too. There's more to a wizard's strength than just their powers."

"*Sniff* I know. And I know it's foolish, and that I helped out a lot today, and saved so many people. But I can't help that I feel like a failure, because of the one man I couldn't help."

"Don't say that. Don't even think it, cuz that's a damned lie," Cana added, "You do so much more than you even realize. When's the last time you went on a mission outside of town? You think we haven't noticed? You always make sure you're around, not just for when Gray needs you, but for all of us. And you were a freakin rock star in Calla Valley, you know that? I saw how you handled yourself with all those old doctors. Porlyusica was right to send you, and you know she wouldn't have sent you on your own if she didn't think you could handle it."

Lucy added, "That's so true. You've really done so much for him these last few months. You took charge right away when we found him passed out in his backyard last November. And when he had that heart attack? You were so calm, and knew exactly what to do. I couldn't have held myself together the way you did. You saved his life that day.

"Your dedication is amazing, and you should be proud of what you're already able to do. Don't be sad. Just remember that most people don't have the benefit of knowing someone who can instantly heal them. I think we've been spoiled, and we've been taking your powers for granted. We're sorry if we may have put a lot of expectations on you. You're more than capable of helping him, even if it's not in the way you'd prefer."

Wendy didn't bother correcting her in saying he'd had a heart attack. The sentiment would have been the same, regardless. She just nodded, and pulled away from Erza, giving her a small smile in gratitude. If only that little pep talk had been able to ease everyone else's guilt. There was not one among them that didn't feel a sense of unfairness right now. There they all now stood, having survived a fierce battle, now unscathed. Completely healed for the most part, rested and refreshed.

All of them but Gray. It just wasn't right.

Cana, eager for something more productive, asked, "So is this all we can do? Sit around moping, and feel sorry for ourselves? I thought we were gonna do something about those jackasses who attacked us."

"Is that really what you want to do right now?" asked Erza.

"Hell no! All I want to do right now is get stupid drunk, sit in that chair over there, and tell embarrassing stories and dirty jokes until he cracks a smile. But someone needs to go after those bastards. They have to answer for putting the lives of kids in danger, just to get to us. We need to find out what they were really after."

A quiet consensus was met. But who would go, and who would stay? Now they waited for someone to make the first move.

Clearing his throat, Loke tossed his still blood soaked suit jacket into a corner, removed his already loosened tie, draping it around his shoulders, pulled up another chair, and sat. As he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, he began, "You know, I never got the chance to finish telling you about my Christmas date with Aries. Did I ever mention how much we appreciated your gift? She's absolutely a sight to behold when she blushes…"

Natsu and Lucy decided they'd join Cana, Lucy grabbing Loke's jacket on the way out to wash later. As they left, Erza rose as well, intending to see if Lisanna needed any help in corralling Joy or carrying anything, before she would seek out Master to talk about some concerns. She didn't fail to send a silent warning towards Loke, her eyes promising swift retribution if he didn't keep his story appropriate for Wendy's ears, to which he returned with a humored smirk and a shrug. She wasn't sure if she could accept that as an acknowledgment, but knew Carla wouldn't fail to keep him in line.

Lyon settled in, listening to Loke's calm, soothing voice as he recounted what sounded to him more like exaggeration than not, but one couldn't always tell with the Lion Spirit. He watched as Wendy, quietly murmuring something about Gray having not blinked since she'd arrived, and needing to keep his eyes from drying out, preceded to tape them closed. To Lyon, it made little sense to worry about those eyes suffering even further damage, but he wasn't a trained healer, so who was he to say? He grinned softly nonetheless. She really had grown as a healer, being able to observe such a minor detail, and to determine the right course of action with no need to ask her mentor first. She really sells herself short. No one else had even seen that need. She then kept herself busy noting any changes reported by those familiarly strange, non-magical machines that were feeding Gray purified air, and keeping tabs on his heart rate and oxygen levels. What great foresight somebody'd had in the need for acquiring those things. They never would have guessed how often they'd need them.

And Gray just laid there, listening (or not) to Loke's story with as much interest as a man in his state could have. They could only hope that he really could hear them, and that their voices and very presences would be enough to rouse him from this deep stupor. There was nothing more they could do but wait.

-Elsewhere-

It was dismally cold where he was, and he was surrounded by a vast expanse of white. He was held aloft over a fathom he couldn't comprehend, seeing only the whiteness, understanding that a depth existed only by the harrowing emptiness he could sense from below. Strange how he'd assumed there'd be more sounds of wailing and gnashing of teeth in this place.

There was only silence.

Had he known Hell would be so antithetical to what he'd always expected, he'd had strived to prolong his miserable life just a little longer, maybe even had considered making overtures of repentance for his misdeeds, instead of wasting so much time and effort on his fool's folly of a revenge scheme.

He'd always hated the cold.

"Your denial is unbecoming for a 'Great' and 'Mighty' sorcerer such as yourself."

It's returned. It had no form, just a presence. How long had it been? There was no sense of time in this place. No day or night. No rhythm. No pattern. It came and went, and there was no telling how long ago it was here last, or when to expect it's return again.

"I see you've discovered my duplicity, judging by the fact that I'm still here."

"You had succeeded in keeping the existence of the other seal from me."

"Of course I did! Did you think me a worthless, inexperienced amateur? I'd spent decades developing the art of cajoling and manipulating the weak minded into giving up their most guarded secrets. Even in death, they could hide nothing from me. Did you actually believe I wouldn't have prepared counters to my own long-perfected skills?"

"Your actions served the demon slayer, whom you once sought vengeance against."

"I served only myself! You forced me into this empty void. This cold, white vastness. This approximation of an endless grave, a place I'd sought to avoid countless times! Then you dared think to use me and my knowledge! My secrets! My powers! I would never stand for such insults! Your plans have failed! I know they have. That's why you're still trapped inside my decrepit old body, I'm most certain. How does it feel to be bested by a mere mortal, you devil!"

"I have no more use for you."

"You foul demon. Do you think I fear you? I've commanded hordes of far more frightening masses of evil than you could ever imagine. You've taken my body, my life, my very soul! What more could you take from me?"

"Your Truth."

"What do you mean, my truth?

"You who cling to life are such pitiful, desperate creatures. You devise hopeless means of sustaining facsimiles of order amid ever encroaching chaos. So long as you live, such order reigns. But when you are removed from the equation, order is lost. Man-made structures are lost to time and decay. Cleared fields are reclaimed by encroaching forests. Peaceful co-existence gives way to strife and war over the pettiest disputes."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You create your own Truths. You seek out teachers who will tell you pretty words and beautiful lies, any and all that will conform to your version of reality. Every action you take, every decision you make, is driven and tainted by these false 'truths' you choose to base your world view upon."

"You speak nonsense."

"I speak what IS. I give no opinion. I need no unnecessary concepts of right or wrong. Everything IS or IS NOT. I am, or I am not. Truth does not falter. It is pure. Undeniable. Objective. It IS."

"And what is my 'Truth'?"

"You deny your own sin. You claim your thirst for vengeance condemns you, while in reality, you are the true instrument of your fall."

That struck a chord with the necromancer, and an all too familiar rage took hold.

"You sought after power, not recompense. Your greatest sins were avarice and pride, and you curse yourself for your failings. You cry out for your own foolishness. You seek wrath against yourself."

A heavy sensation came over him, one he'd felt off and on throughout his time spent in this abyss. It was as if an unknown, unnamed energy was flowing out of him, pooling into the endless depths below him. He wasn't fooled, nor did he think this…creature was trying to keep any secrets concerning those depths from him. He'd already figured out that the draining sensation only occurred when he was angered or frustrated. Or any number the other negative emotions he'd stockpiled since appearing here.

The creature was collecting his rage to fuel its powers.

And though he tried in his stubbornness to deny its desires, he fell right into it's trap once again.

He truly was a foolish mortal.

Well, if this was all he had to look forward to for all eternity, at least he could have some small bit of petty revenge in sticking it to the sanctimonious creature before him.

"Heh, heh. So what you're really saying is that you're sore at your own loss, and you have me to blame for it? Ha! What can you do? You're stuck with me, now! You'll never acquire the body you truly want! Not even I can undo those seals! If I am doomed to eternity in this void, you are also doomed to carrying around my frail, decaying husk until it withers away!"

The satisfied smirk on his face fell as soon as the entity spoke its next words.

"Once more, you create your own truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Only the knowledge of the existence of those seals is sufficient. I now lack nothing. My purpose will be fulfilled. But now, I am compelled to punish you for your transgressions. Your ancient scriptures admonish you to fear not that which kills the body, but destroys the soul. Had you been forthright in your knowledge, you would be safe from this wrath. It is your treachery that condemns you now."

"...Heh, heh. You're joking. You must be. You just said you didn't need me anymore! That even without my knowledge, you still figured it out! You would have learned of both seals eventually. So why?! You, who can't form opinions, who couldn't care one way or the other if I cooperated or not. Why punish me?!"

"I do not. YOU do."

"What?"

"I seek not vengeance. I feel no wrong. I feel nothing. I am. Or I am not."

"That's right! Those are your own words! Your own Truths! You're incapable of feeling anger or malice, or anything that would cause you to seek punishment against me. So why would you bother?!"

"Because you seek it. I AM. But you cannot BE. You are, AND you are not. I am me, and you are you. But we are now one. I am you, and you are me. I seek not vengeance, but YOU do. This is your doing. You will be the victim of your own wrath. It is what you would do to one who would wrong you."

"What about my body? You can't go far, or for too long, without a host! You need one that will hold curses! You've already failed to acquire the demon slayer's. He's the only one who could contain you. Those seals are permanent! You'll never be able to take him!"

"That is your truth. It is not mine."

A dread unlike any he'd ever felt took hold, and he struggled in vain to escape his invisible bonds. His fears increased the volume and rate in which whatever was taken from him flowed into the chasm beneath him. He was beyond trying to control his responses now, beyond caring how much of his essence was drawn away from him.

He would soon be forced to confront the one thing in which he could never deny his fear and awe, in all his decades of evading it, of researching and experimenting ways to control it, to gain mastery over the one power that none may defy...

Death.

"Please, at least tell me. I know you don't care about mercy or grace. You don't even care if I'm punished or not. But you're a logical creature, and there's no logical reason to deny my request. Just please tell me what comes after. Is there existence after this? Am I destined to the pits of Hell from which you came? If you would just take the mystery away, please!"

Because he knew Heaven had no place for him. But whether he ceased to exist, or would spend eternity in torment, at least he could leave this life with that brief assurance. Simply knowing what would await him afterward would be enough.

"You think me a denizen of Hell? Your truth in this is skewed. I am not a demon. I have no knowledge of your fate."

That was a tremendous shock. If this creature wasn't a demon, then…?

"...What the hell are you?"

"I have no designation. I am, or I am not. Humans deign to give name to my existence. It relieves them to have a name for their fear. I do not live. I do not die. I exist. Humans, in times past, called me the Undying One."

In that moment, something within Atticus Wolfram Montagne broke. This couldn't possibly be. The chances of this confrontation, this meeting between him and this vestige of ancient days, this personification of power that only existed in legends, this being of which he'd had the pure hubris to take on it's name, couldn't even be calculated.

"Heh, heh. No. It's impossible. This...this couldn't happen. This...heh…this is a lie! A joke! Heh, heh, heh. You can't be! You Can't BE! NO! Heh! Heh, heh. *sob* heh. How could the fates align like this?! *sob* WHY?! HOW?!!! Hehehehe *sob* hehehehe!"

As the necromancer teetered on the edge of insanity, he could only hold onto the one lone comfort that at least none but the creature would witness his descent into madness.

...

Except…

…

…

…

…' You poor, wretched soul. Such foolishness. It truly was all in vain…'

…

…

Next Chapter: Laxus' team helps in any way they can. Also, there's a carousel.