Levy, Jet, and Droy are barely alive.

All three of them were pinned to a tree by their wrists, iron shackles chafed against their wrists, a single nail in the middle of their forearms crucifying them in place. Blood flowed heavily down the tree, their head a sickly sight, red bleeding through Levy's head, down the stained, torn bandanna.

Someone carved a mark on Levy's stomach, presumably with a knife. The mark of Phantom Lord.

"What the FUCK is going on?!"

"Holy— someone get them down!"

"Who would do this?!"

Cana rushes in, but there's already a crowd. She passes Erza, and stops when she sees the ones exclaiming the loudest in the front of the crowd, demanding an explanation.

Natsu, Gray and Mira were home, the blood in their veins boiling. Natsu clearly bites back the fire that turned his saliva into magma, his fists clenched tight. Gray doesn't look any better, the grass beneath his feet shivering in glaciers.

Cana sees what they see and she can't breathe.

She hears a choked cry beside her, and it's Lucy, her hands thrown up to her face as she crumbles to her knees, whimpering a weak call of Levy's name.

It's her fault. It's her fault.

Cana falls to her knees beside Lucy as she breaks into sobs. "I– I," Lucy couldn't even speak, clawing at her hair, "I shouldn't have— it's my—"

Cana pulls her closer and sets a firm look upon Natsu and Gray.

"Phantom," it's a single, poisonous word.

Natsu is consumed by way too many things at once.

Hargeon had been fine, but once they made it to the station, their way home was plagued by people ushering their children away, averting their gazes, and keeping a wide berth. They've been avoided as troublemakers and a bad crowd before, but they've never received the monster treatment before.

Mirajane squirms, uncomfortable, and Gray hides her from the view of the street. Natsu makes his way through the town at an added pace.

Something unsettled him, in the town. It smelled wrong, foreign— no, it really did. Something smelled different.

(Someone who wasn't supposed to be here came and made their presence known.)

And then they hear the news of what happened at the town square, and they drop everything to get there immediately.

Phantom is the only word that can really explain this situation.

Natsu feels the blood rush right to his head. They really came and picked a direct fight? He doesn't care for the situation or whatever provoked this. You don't just attack a member of Fairy Tail without facing the consequences. Every member of Phantom knew that, and yet, they willingly picked a fight?

They must be suicidal.

That, or…

Ah.

Natsu walks over to Erza and Wakaba, who are desperately working to apply first aid. Laki makes wooden steps to safely bring them down, and Natsu climbs one of them, to Jet's arm, where they were trying to remove the nail pierced into his flesh.

"Do it carefully, Natsu, don't—!!"

"There's no easy way around it, just do it quickly while he's unconscious!"

Jet howls when Natsu yanks the shrapnel out of his arm, and Krov curses. Jet is too groggy to stay awake, so Krov just sends a disapproving look at Natsu's way before shifting Jet onto his back and hurrying down the steps.

Natsu stays up there, inspecting the iron pick.

This is it.

This is something he knows.

"This was done by a dragon slayer," Natsu says. Everyone within hearing distance pauses for a moment in surprise.

"What?" Gray is first to react.

"Wait, Natsu, are you sure?" Bisca asks.

Mirajane enters the conversation as well. "This was definitely done by Black Steel Gajeel. There's no official confirmation he's a dragon slayer, though. He doesn't exactly fight like you, and he doesn't exactly advertise himself."

"...Gajeel," Natsu says. It's been so long, the name's completely foreign on his tongue. It doesn't even sound right. He's always been the Gearhead to Natsu.

"You should really read up on them sometimes."

Natsu ignores that remark. He steps down, back onto the grass, the nail in hand. He didn't expect their reunion to be like this.

But that guy most likely smelled him, too.

"You're calling dibs?" Gray asks. "Forget it. Cana called it first."

"No, he's mine," Natsu says immediately. "I'll talk to Cana. But Gajeel is mine to fight."

Gray doesn't retort. Natsu's eyes are dead serious, and he smoulders through the nail in his arm, bending it in a melted half.

"That punk thinks he's hot shit," Natsu says, his voice just above a low growl. "Do you know what it means for a dragon to cause trouble on another dragon's territory?"

Heat boils off Natsu's skin, bubbling irately.

Gray doesn't answer. None of them do, for the explosive pressure of Makarov's aura overwhelms them all.

Makarov steps up, wearing his Saint Wizard coat for the first time in a very long while— and everyone knows, instantly, exactly what that means.

"We've tolerated long enough, children," he says, and the fury contained in his leveled voice sends shivers down Cana's spine. "They are after Lucy. We will not give her to them. If this is how they want to fight, then we will take it."

There isn't a single soul that refutes what he says next.

"We go to war."

Natsu doesn't really care why they're fighting.

He roars the doors of Phantom Lord open, and Fairy Tail declares their presence with a loud demand for vengeance.

"GEARHEAD, YOU PIECE OF RUSTY GARBAGE!" he howls, three steps into the building. "GET OUT HERE AND FIGHT ME!"

His declaration shocks everyone, Phantom and Fairy alike. The Fairies laugh, amused by his enthusiasm. They don't ask over it— they follow his lead, charging right past him, plunging fists into faces and magic into torsos, calling for the Element Four and Jose to answer their warcry as one.

Erza shreds through the crowd. Alzack and Bisca have a shootout, amidst everything. Laki turns half the guild hall into wooden monstrosities, and Max decorates it, dusting castles of sand and building upon the insane art gallery in their wake. The more physical types charge in with Elfman's lead, shattering people and furniture and floors, tossing them, intending on creating similar damage to what Phantom wreaked upon them.

Natsu stands firm, exactly where he is.

"I can smell you," he warns. "Get the fuck out here, child of Metalicana, you disgrace!"

"Now now, insulting my dad's a bit of a low blow, don't you think?" Gajeel snorts from above, standing upon one of the wooden beams high aboveground.

Natsu grinds his teeth. "You dishonor the Warrior of Steel."

Gajeel barks out a laugh. "Funny! The only morons that ever cared about dumb shit like honour were the Fires!" He dove down, steel at his foot, plunging straight down into the ground a mere meter beside Natsu, cracking the bedrock at its core.

He straightens, arms lifted tauntingly.

"You're fighting a Mineral," Gajeel grins. Elementals cared for pride. But Minerals— they only care for raw power, the greatest, sturdiest weapons. There's a reason why Igneel and Metalicana hated each other, and their children really inherited that will. "Get a clue, you preachy stuck-ups."

Natsu's fists tighten over his side.

He's wanted this for so long. He wanted to meet him again. It's not as if they adored each other, or anything like that. Their brotherhood was lost with time and they all acknowledged that bitterly as something inevitable. But they were once a flight, they were still a flight, and meeting him again was something Natsu had long craved.

He missed him, so much.

And yet.

"So, Spitfire," Gajeel grins, and Natsu hates that he only feels pure fury at the sight of it. "Been a while. How've you been?"

Natsu throws his fist straight forward, scorching.

Gajeel snags it before it reaches his face, steel coating over his hand, shivering from effort but so, so amused.

"I'll bury your head into the ground," Natsu whispered, filled with rage. This is not his brother. This is just the despicable criminal that strung up his family to a tree, put them on sick display, for amusement . He knows. He can smell the genuine joy. He wants to throw up, trying to decipher them. "Tear off your scales, one by one."

I'll kill you. And then I'll mourn you. As dragons do.

(To dragons, battles were a part of life, and death was occasionally a part of that process. They don't particularly wish each other harm, but if it happens, they accept it as a parcel of their long lives.)

(It is something of the greatest honour, to die at the hand of a friend.)

"Bring it on, punk," Gajeel grins smugly. "Just like old times, eh?"

Is it really? Natsu didn't know. He couldn't think straight. Maybe it was. Maybe it's always been like this— one-sidedly murderous, utter tomfoolery. Maybe that's why Igneel hated the absolute crap out of the Minerals.

Natsu grounds out a blast of fire in his face, and Gajeel coughs, shooting back with a wince. A steel sword swipes Natsu in the side, and Gajeel churns it right into a chainsaw, shredding through Natsu's arms, face, shoulder—

—Natsu cringes, howling as he drags himself apart from it.

"Was it just to pick a fight with me?" Natsu grounds out, assessing the damage to his limbs and determining it's fine. He burns the ground with his feet, dragging it forth as he swung sharply, right into Gajeel's sword. "Destroying the guild hall, hurting Jet and the others."

"Hmm? Ah, not at all," Gajeel says, parrying expertly, flicking Natsu upward before forming a steel pillar in his other hand and plunging it straight into Natsu's stomach. "Haven't you heard? Your guild members kidnapped a rich little lady, and her daddy wants her back. So Phantom's playing the hero right now, serving justice in the name of saving the sweet princess from the cruel and despicable Fairy Tail guild that brainwashed her into custody. Or something."

Natsu grinds his teeth, getting back on his hands. "What's that bullshit?"

"Right? Hilarious, isn't it?" Gajeel grins. "I would've said a fuck no, but then there was just something so interesting, you know, about this Lucy chick."

Something's wrong. Natsu feels sluggish, and he can't move well. He's usually much more dexterous than this, but somehow, his fight with Gajeel feels one-sided.

"Lucy?" Natsu asks. That's the new girl. He caught a glimpse of her just now at the plaza. She had blonde hair.

"Lucy Heartfilia ," Gajeel says. "She looks exactly like her, you know?"

Natsu's eyes widen. "Anna-sensei's…?"

Gajeel socks Natsu right in the cheek, interrupting his thoughts. Natsu briefly recovers, bringing his knee up to score Gajeel right in the jaw. Natsu catches himself on his hands before grasping a chunk of a broken table, throwing it at Gajeel.

Gajeel reacts, punching it, shattering it into sawdust. Natsu slinks right past him, getting behind, his elbows burning.

"Fire Dragon's Talons!"

Gajeel is sent plunging right into the wall.

"Fire Dragon's Roar!"

Natsu sears through the walls, sending Gajeel out of the building. Natsu breathes heavily, winded from the furious fight.

But if Lucy really was Anna's descendant… then…

Honestly, Natsu didn't know how to feel about it. No one knew where Anne went, after the Eclipse. Whether she was dead or alive, or if she even made it to the same timeline as they did.

His memories at that time were a fog, a mess of getting separated in the churns of time, and desperately trying to find his way back to the others, ultimately in vain.

But Anna left them alone in this new environment, and while it was extenuating circumstances, Natsu wouldn't blame any of them for holding a grudge. Especially Gajeel, who could vividly remember and truly understand how bad things could've gone.

"I won't let you take Lucy," Natsu says.

His next step is cut short by a new hand grasping at his ankle. Taken by surprise he trips, flailing facefirst into the rubble under him.

Startled, he looks back— and there are two hands now, emerging from the shadows and grasping both his ankles. Natsu could light his feet on fire and burn the offending appendage away— but he couldn't.

He couldn't. He can't do that to the kids .

"Ryos?" he whispers, disbelieving.

Is that why his body's been weird this whole battle? The shadows. Natsu had been so preoccupied with Gajeel, he didn't even notice another smell in his shadow.

Gajeel laughs. "What a shame! Usually I'd have a hard time fighting ya, but not today!" he runs forward, steel forming into a weapon in one arm as he charges, a crazed smile on his face. "You Fires were always too prideful to tag team."

Gajeel's advance is harshly ceased by a magic circle sprouting before him. Contact deactivated his iron transformation, and Cana leaps forward, a club in hand swinging forward, momentum and a tactical strength-enhancing card allowing her to face the first head on, throwing Gajeel back at a startled pace.

Natsu lifts his head in surprise. Cana stands firm.

She's holding a spiked club— Natsu recognizes it as part of Erza's Purgatory set. It's not a weapon that suits Cana's lithe physique, but she sure does like swinging it.

"I don't know your history, but I gotta say, your logic's got some flaws," Cana taunts.

Gajeel clicks his tongue. Natsu takes the chance to growl at the boy in the shadow, and Ryos jumps, startled enough to meekly slink back into the darkness, aware that he'd been moments away from burnt hands.

"Stay down there if you know what's good for you," Natsu sneers. "I'll deal with you later."

Ryos obediently does not do anything else.

Natsu hops back onto his feet, and just for this moment he feels small.

Cana holds the club before her like a cane, raising a card to set up temporary magic buffs. "You're super lame, Natsu!" she chides, "declaring war so boldly and then losing because you got ganged up on."

"Shut up, Cana," Natsu hisses.

"This is a private affair, skank," Gajeel grounds out.

"This stopped being private when you nailed our fairies to a tree, bitch," Cana beams, "also, I had fucking dibs on your ass."

Mirajane and Gray stay home with Lucy. They take shelter in the nearby clinic, who's very willing to give them solace as Team Shadow Gear recuperates.

"It's my fault," Lucy whispers, still curled up into herself. "If only I—"

"Lucy, that's enough," Mirajane says. "It's no one's fault but Phantom's."

"My father probably commissioned a job from them," Lucy says. "Because he knows about the rivalry. Master refused to entertain him, so he turned to Phantom. My father knows who to take advantage of to get his way. It's because of me, I was stubborn. If only I just went—"

"Enough, Lucy!" Gray raises his voice.

No one blames her. She understands that, and she needed to stop that, because it really wasn't solving a thing.

"Just calm down," Loke says, entering the clinic with some groceries. "Being this gloomy won't help. Lucy, how about we go take a walk, for a change of pace?"

"Seriously, you're offering?" Mirajane raises a brow. "What happened to your aversion to Celestial Spirit Mages?"

Loke balks," I know how to read the mood, okay…"

"If you do, then you would know now isn't the time for walks ," Gray grinds out, evidently frustrated. If he didn't worsen his injuries in Galuna, he'd be able to go too. But as it is now, he's under the same recovery restrictions as Macao.

"Please go easy on me, I will cry," Loke says, putting the groceries down and handing a bun to Lucy. "We're all upset, Gray."

Gray huffs.

Lucy mulls into the bread in her hands. It's raining, all the more diminishing the mood in the entire building.

It's melon bread, baked cutely into the shape of a sun. Or maybe it was a lion. She's not sure, and it doesn't matter. It's like her. Indecisive and fated to just be eaten as baseless nutrients, no matter how much creativity was put into the process.

Mirajane's a pacifist, so she's here. Gray is injured. Macao is home, cursing his paraplegic state. And Loke hasn't gotten new rings yet, so he can't fight either.

She's weak. That's why she's here, waiting vainly for everyone else to fix the problem for her. They're all weak, and Lucy hates that she can't confidently say she's an upstanding member of Fairy Tail right now.

(Nothing's changed.)

(Lucy's still a child that just wants a prince to save her.)

Mirajane sighs into the lacrima ball before her. "What's Laxus up to, that he's just not picking up?" she groans, "at the very least, Happy should respond, but…"

"He was in the area, wasn't he?" Loke says, "He's not the type to destroy things unnecessarily, since Natsu's not with him."

"Think someone else picked a fight with him?" Gray suggests, taking a bite out of the chocolate cornet in his hands. "He'll come home when he hears about what Phantom did—"

Gray stops strangely in his sentence. Loke and Mirajane lift their heads at once, and Lucy does so a second later, confused by the sudden attention.

It all comes at once.

Loke lunges for Lucy. Mira stands up, not caring for the lacrima that shatters as she drops it, and Gray tosses aside the bread in his hands, a buildup of magic in his hands.

"Ice Make, SHIELD!"

Lucy squeezes her eyes shut when the entire building quakes , and she barely registers the spear of— water?— that plunges into the building, crushing through the wall like a swipe of a monster's hand, taking a huge chunk of the building with it. The second floor of the clinic is a gaping wound, an engorged building in the wake of disaster.

"Ah, there, there," a man fuses through the ground, lifting in a mound of earth as it formed into the shape of a human— "there, with the blonde hair. That there, is our target, sweetie."

"Acknowledged, Monsieur Sol." The girl stood upon another earth mount, dressed in thick blue, holding a pink parasol. "Juvia determines the others to be of no threat. The target will be captured. Drip, drip, drop."

There's a scream. The shopkeeper.

"What's going on?! We're getting attacked!"

"I told you it was a bad idea to associate with Fairy Tail! They bring nothing but trouble!"

"My building!"

"Evacuate other patients, hurry!"

Mira curses, leaping down the broken flooring. There are other guests as well— thankfully, the sitting area is further in and no one's hurt— but the broken building is definitely unsafe.

"Loke!" Gray yells.

In her shocked stupor, Lucy only vaguely notices herself being pulled into Loke's arms before she's being carried right off, Loke leaping expertly onto the window, dragging himself up a roof, and leaping to the next building in a hasty escape.

Gray forms a barricade of ice behind him, fencing off Levy, Jet and Droy from the water-wielding woman. He doesn't need more words, and Loke doesn't look back as he escapes.

"Wait!" Lucy yells, grasping at his shirt, "we can't just leave them behind! Gray's injured, and Levy and the others are—"

Loke cuts her off, "Lucy, just focus on running. Once they get you, it's all over!"

"Then all the more reason for me to stay!"

But that's a moot point. They're protecting her. Securing the injured, protecting the civilians, and making good on their promise to protect Lucy. It's the more tactical way to go, even if it's the strategic equivalent of abandoning your friends for the greater good.

(Why was she so useless?)

(Why couldn't she protect anything?)

(Did she really deserve to be a mage like this?)

"Lucy, can you get my glasses off? The rain's getting in my–"

An unnaturally raised block of earth hooks over Loke's leg, and he stumbles. He catches himself on a shaky tile and stumbles . He finds nothing to catch, and can only wrap his body around Lucy as they fall from the roof.

But Loke bites his tongue and, despite Lucy's terrified gasp, doesn't falter. Keeping Lucy safely in his lap, he spins back around just in time for a very painful hero landing on the bricked path.

"Oh my god," Lucy whispers, still clinging around Loke's neck as he bites his tongue and tries his best not to make the world's most pathetic whine of agony. No broken ankles, but damn did it hurt.

"That was disappointing," Monsieur Sol says, emerging from the ground beside them as Loke rests a hand on the ground, still holding onto Lucy with the other. "I expected a worse fall."

Loke chuckles, pained, "well what kind of cat would I be if I didn't land on my feet," he hissed, just under his breath and not meant to be heard, but he didn't quite care if anyone did. "Don't run, Lucy. They'll just chase. We have to fight."

Lucy hurries to get out of Loke's arms, taking his hand to bring him back up. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, and she sticks to him, wary.

It doesn't last long. The ground beneath them spikes, a jagged rupture right between them, forcing them apart. Loke hisses, reaching back out for her— but Sol reaches her first, malleable earthen body coiling around Lucy's figure, across her torso, and anchoring over her neck.

"T-" Lucy bites her tongue, terrified, "Taurus! Taurus, h–!!"

She realizes halfway through her words that none of her keys are reacting. That didn't make sense. Sure her hands were barely on her keys, but she was sending magic through them, they'll respond. Taurus would respond.

…was she really sending magic through them? She's been doing it instinctively so far, she's suddenly forgotten how to consciously do it.

(It's the panic.)

"Oh dear," Sol's face lifts from a rock formation beside her. "How peculiar. I can't feel any magic from you, Mademoiselle."

Lucy felt weak.

Right now, she just wanted to run. To escape and be nothing, to curl up and hide in her isolated corner, because she was nothing and had nothing left.

"Why?" her voice breaks, desperate, "why isn't anyone responding? Cancer! Virgo!" she calls, desperate, Taurus, Aquarius! Anyone, just–!" Sol covers her mouth, and she screeches. They were supposed to save her. To help her, to come and protect her, so why wasn't any of them responding?

Loke's eyes widen, because he recognizes this.

He can see it. Her magic— running frazzled, flickering dangerously, her emotions running deep into fear and despair, so much it forgets how to work.

It's the same thing that happened to Mirajane. If Lucy uses any magic now, what happened to Karen would happen to her too. That's why no one is reacting, that's why no one hears her. It's magic's failsafe system, cutting the connection to protect her from herself. If she forces her magic through this, then there's a high chance she'll—

He has to stop her. Loke curses, hands lighting up with Regulus.

"Let her go!" he demands, lunging forward. His claw misses when Sol swerves aside, bringing Lucy with him, jerking her around as a shield as he laughs. "You coward!"

Loke can't hit him like this. Not when Regulus would shred Lucy apart first.

"We've got our target," Monsieur Sol reports, slowly sinking into the ground as Lucy screams in fear, her voice muffled through the soil arm that gagged her. "We'll be taking our leave, then."

"Wait—!!" Loke's words harshly cut off when the entire world trembles, and his body seizes, vision going black for a dangerous second. He stumbles, barely catching himself. Not now. Not now. A broken noise rips out of him as his chest tightens painfully, squeezing further, ripping itself out from inside—

"So, no hard feelings, young man…"

Loke sees the magic circle open under his feet. But he can't do anything as the earth fissures under him, bends of earth shooting forward in sharp protrusions.

Gray breathes heavily. The rain's horrific, way too heavy on his wounds. Juvia stands before him, water lashing forward mercilessly, searing a new wound upon his barely healed one.

Mira's evacuating the other visitors of the clinic. Gray has to deal with this on his own.

He tears off his shirt and Juvia actually jumps in surprise. She stares, very blatantly, cheeks reddening. Gray raises a brow at that reaction and Juvia squeaks, averting her eyes almost politely.

Gray straightens. "What?"

"J- Juvia is in disbelief," she says, "men can be so immodest."

Gray can only weakly repeat, "... what?"

"You will catch a cold in this rain without clothes. No, no, Juvia is not worried! But Juvia is curious why a man would subject himself to that risk."

"Uh… I don't catch colds, I'm an ice mage."

"O-Oh. That makes sense. You and Juvia are similar in that regard, then," she says, almost contemplatively. "How peculiar. It is not a trait of elemental mages, since Totomaru-kun isn't impervious to heat…" She covers her mouth, thinking deeply. Then, seemingly realizing her position again, "wait. You are an enemy, Juvia cannot be distracted!"

She holds her cheeks, embarrassed.

"You are a vile man, trying to sidetrack Juvia in this manner," Juvia grumbles, hands held out. "Juvia is serious in her mission. You will not get in the way any longer."

Gray has to repeat for the third incredulous time, "woman. What. "

Juvia raises her arm to attack, but Mirajane emerges from the roof, finally returning from evacuating the nearby people. She swings, a demon's foot on dark wings, launching forward with a flying kick.

To everyone's surprise, Mirajane kicks right through her, Juvia's body giving way to water as it splashes apart into intangible particles. Mirajane crashes into the shattered wall beyond them, getting up frazzled.

Juvia smiles, her face slowly reforming in the water droplets.

"Juvia is the rain woman. Her body is made of water. Drip, drip, drop."

They've met elemental mages before, even transforming ones— but never one whose body was made of their element. How did that even work? How far did the effects go? They didn't know.

"Ice Make: Saucer!" Gray spurs forth a bladed disk, but it phases right through her too, splitting her in halves that reform shortly, rainwater fusing into her body and repairing her in an instant. "Darn."

Mira gets back on her feet. There's no way they can win against water in the rain. If she was still in top condition, she could possibly part the sky and bring the sun back— but as they are, they're in Juvia's watery terrain, and they all know how hopeless it is to fight an elemental mage in the palm of their hands.

"Juvia, sweetheart. We've fulfilled our agenda. We shall take our leave."

"Oh?" Juvia turns when the ground reforms beside her, and Sol emerges, a head on the ground. Juvia straightens, setting her hand down and closing her eyes with a content nod. "Juvia will comply. Drip, drip, drop."

Gray and Mira immediately react, "WAIT—!!"

But Sol melts into the ground, and Juvia instantly dissolves into nothing more than a puddle in the already streaming streets.

Just like that, they were gone.

"They… they got Lucy?" Mira asks.

Gray's stomach falls in dread, lifting his head toward the direction they'd last seen the other half of their group. "What happened to Loke?!"

The raid on Phantom Lord goes well, at least until Master falls from the upper floors, suffering severe Magic Deficiency, barely capable of standing up on his own.

"We need to retreat. Everyone— listen!" Erza orders. "Retreat!"

It wasn't ideal, but they had to. They belatedly realize Jose wasn't in the building, their morale was cripplingly low with Master Makarov's defeat, and people were injured and outnumbered.

Cana curses. Before her was Gajeel, wrapped in bonds of light, the shackles slowly dissipating as her magic weakened. The Death card is upside down in her hand, trembling from effort.

"Darn it, I almost had him," she whispers.

That's tough talk. They were in a stalemate, not on a winning run. Furthermore, Natsu's arms were stuck in the shadows. He'd plunged them in to get to Ryos and failed, ending up shackled to the ground and no fire helped.

"Retreat," Cana decides, casting a Dispel upon Natsu and setting him free. She quickly grabs him by the shoulder, and he curses. "Listen, Natsu! We are retreating ."

Her warning was stern. Natsu knew better than to defy it.

He turns back, meeting a tightly-bound Gajeel in the eye. They don't say a word, but their eyes are filled with anger, promising uninterrupted violence in their next encounter.

Natsu runs, picking up a collapsed Max and helping him forward as the guild evacuated from the building.

He's nearly at the entrance when he hears it.

("So?" Gajeel groans. The magic holding him in place had dispelled. There was a new guy, large and blindfolded, beside him. "Aria, we got the Lucy chick?")

("Yes," Aria says. "She is with Master Jose now, at headquarters.")

Natsu sees red.

"That fucking bastard ," he hisses. He shoves the unconscious Max at Elfman.

"Where are you going, Natsu?" We're going home!" Elfman warns. "Don't blame me if you make the others mad!"

"A detour," Natsu simply says.

He doesn't elaborate.