Chapter 1
It was cold. Smell of gunpowder mixed unevenly with sweat and dirt as a convoy marched forth through a fallen city. Once a crowded district laid barren, its buildings now ruins and its streets worse than neglected roads of corrupted nation's countryside.
One of many teenagers cladded in beige camo tightened his grip to his rifle, an act he only dreamed of when he was but a child, young and naive. He felt non-existent hand reached to his heart, wet and cold like drenched cotton. He was young, but he wasn't so oblivious. He knew the possibility of what lied ahead, in the void silence between rubbles filled only by rattling sound of vehicles.
Death.
His eyelids dropped like a vertical curtain as he tried his hardest to stop shaking. He didn't believe in gods and religions. Nonsense, lots of them, but where no money could buy and fear ran rampant, he found himself swayed by the beauty of miracles.
He didn't want to die.
His life was best described as normal. He was just a middle-schooler. He loved to play, hangout, and lax around, but not all were fun. He grimaced when faced against formidable homeworks and exams, and rolled his eyes when his parents gave him troublesome chores.
Funny. How those exams and homeworks he often stressed about appeared so insignificant, so irrelevant, as he sat here where death's door could be found at any corner.
A roar of combustion snapped everyone aware, but nothing could be done for the truck in front. Curses, shouts, and cries mixed into one. Some acted, dismounting their vehicles as fast as they could. while the rest froze on their seats as machine gun shredded upon them.
Most of them, including him, were conscripts who had no prior combat experience, and in the suddenness of danger, rational thinking went straight out of the window.
It was a massacre, an outcome expected for mere cannon fodders. His life flashed in his mind as he desperately moved to the closest cover, negligible and memorable, from the most shameful to proudest.
Pain came late when he hit the rough pavement below, drowned in wetness of blood which was his own. Oh, how much he yearned. To get all dirty as he cleans up his father's treasured garden, to watch cringy anime with his brother, and to bring his mom a glass of water.
"Mom..." he hoarsely called the one who loved him the most, whose affection he had taken for granted. His eyes teared as his pride and arrogance torn away from him. The horror of a war, the boring school hours, the mundane life, it all held no meaning to him. Not anymore. His thought was that of home, one he would never return to.
His head fell, and his light taken away from him.
Pain, soreness, and blurred noise were all he sensed in his half-conscious state. His head felt no different than a cracked egg, and the cold wet surface he laid on didn't help in the slightest.
Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes to his dark surrounding, too tired to groan when unsettling stench and body odour struck his nostril, an unfamiliar setting from where he should have been.
"You are finally awake."
He turned his head towards the voice, and found himself a shirtless elder looking back, whose eyes filled with grandfatherly kindness. "Child, are you alright?"
Said child didn't answer, too tired to respond while tidying up his jumbled memories. What had happened? Was he saved by his fellow soldiers, or perhaps—
In a blink, he sat up and winced. His eyes nailed to his bruised form which was too small to be his own. Alive, but painful. This was obviously not his body, considering his had been shot beyond repair.
That's right; he's supposed to be dead, soon to be six-feet-under in a mass grave at no man's land, buried and forgotten
How could he still be alive, in a kid's body no less?
What the hell is going on?
"Child?"
"Ah..." he managed, hissing when jolt of pain struck him the moment he moved his arm, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"It's alright," the old man softened, his slit-eyes lowered. "Are you okay? Those guards didn't seem to hold back when they hit your head."
'Guards?' "It hurts. Where—" he took a proper look around him, to his moist cell of bars and stone along with those who shared it with him. Buckets of pungent biological waste at one of the corners, away from grimy inmates who hugged their knees to keep the cold at bay. Their eyes were empty, and some muttered incoherent words and whimpered, voices barely heard under the noisy sound of metallic strikes in the background.
"Where am I?"
It was inhumane even for low standard of war prisons. 'No,' he inwardly denied; there were children among them. Wherever he was, he wasn't in a war prison.
The elder looked at him with understanding, as if his case wasn't new. The man turned towards what laid beyond the metal bars, where garbed men with strange masks electrocuted a begging man without mercy.
"They call this place Tower of Heaven, and to those dark mages..." he turned towards the child whose eyes were wide as his situation sunk into his mind, tainted by a sight no children should see. "... we are nothing but slaves."
"Hlurgh!" the teen — boy — gagged, running as fast as he could to the provided buckets before filling one of them with acid inside his empty stomach.
"It's alright," the old man placed his hand comfortingly on top of the boy's shoulder whose head dangled weakly. He led the younger male away from rain puddle which took a fifth of the cell's floor before he spoke once more, "I'm Rob. What's your name?"
"Je... Jellal," he muttered halfway to where he was, already seeing the reflection from murky water beneath. A boy with blue hair and dark red tattoo around his right eye. "Jellal Fernandes...?"
It was more of a question than answer.
No matter how insane it sounded, the boy knew where he was. Tower of Heaven, a place which only existed in a shounen show with excessive fan-services and power of friendship.
Fairy Tail.
Jellal pressed his palms to his ears, a futile attempt to escape distant sound of moaning, clapping of flesh, and perverted laughters. For a show that mentioned slavery and mass murders, he knew the much darker elements were pressed down to make things friendlier for younger audience. However, this world was now his reality, and reality was cruel.
Minutes later, the voice died down and the laughter turned to blissful sigh.
Dead or alive, he didn't know which one was better, not when the worse itself was waiting for him. Reincarnation, reborn, and all that mainstream isekai terms didn't matter to him. What mattered was that he got stuck as a child-slave in the accursed Tower of Heaven. Not just as any child, but as a godforsaken Jellal Fernandes whose body he now wore as his own.
He only watched the show as a tag-along when his sweet lil' brother enjoyed himself on that anime channel years ago, meaning he only had the rough lining of what was going on till the 7-year-to-the future stuff. However, he knew the gist of what would happen to one unlucky Jellal. Enslaved in Tower of Heaven, brainwashed to complete the building which would never work, ass-whiped by the power of friendship, found and sealed by the 6-member guild, lost his memories, jailed, and broken out of jail to play vigilante with the woman who brought this whole crap in the first place.
He desperately pulled his legs with his sore muscles to keep the cold away, his eyes stared at the cell window above, the only source of light in the dim public cage of his.
Beyond the cylinders made of rusty iron were bright glowing stars. So many of them, like glitters spilled on top of dark carpet. It was a beautiful sight, unfound in light-polluted earth, but as meismerizing as it might be, it did little to calm the storm inside his mind.
He, now Jellal Fernandes, was terrified.
Hell no. Jellal didn't want any of that. He didn't want to be a slave, nor brainwashed and hunted down as a dark mage. He is in Earthland; he wanted to join a light guild, cast great spells, obtain well-earned money from missions, get some genuine friends to adventure with, and so much more.
If this world truly was based on the work of Fairy Tail's author, then canon might be in tow like a prophecy known only to him, and following it out meant his new life would be a horrendous one.
But what could he do? While the Jellal Fernandes had immense magic potential, he didn't know how to use it. More than that, escaping bore extreme risks. Erza had lost her eye doing just that in the show, and he didn't want to lose body parts from half-baked scheme. However, he didn't want to sit his butt scared for eternity either. Jellal wanted out, away from slavers and brainwashing spell, and to do that, he needed to come to a solution with lowest cost and greatest outcome.
How did Erza pull out a successful revolt again?
... Fuck.
He remembered that scene quite well. An untrained 10-ish years old child successfully wrestled a spear from adult and proceeded to beat them all in a single wide swing without magic? Hell, he hadn't included the build-up yet. It required Sho to make an escape plan, got them all caught, Erza to torture chamber, him rescuing Erza by stealing a sword and killing at least three of armed guards somehow.
Right. As if he could trust some stupid shounen plot to save the day, leave alone his ass.
"Jellal?" voice of a child called to him. "What are you doing?"
"Eh, probably 'just thinking'," another spoke with annoyance not three feet from Jellal, arm acted as makeshift pillow and face towards the wall, trying to get sleep from cold and hard stone. "Nothing new there, Sho."
The tanned blond boy who called him was Sho and the black-haired boy was Wally. The first arrived in the same trip as Jellal, and the latter much earlier. He didn't know when the rest of the crews arrive, but Erza and Simon should be in the last batch.
Sho was reluctant of what to do, and Jellal's demeanour might play a part in it. Unlike the young Jellal from the show, he wasn't as cheerful. He had spent most of his time scheming instead of socializing to fellow kids in the shittiest environment possible.
However, it would do him no good to isolate himself further from his peers. Children were open to escape ideas unlike the broken adults, and he surely couldn't escape alone.
"I'm thinking how to get out from here," Jellal whispered.
His words garnered Sho's attention, even Wally sat up and turned his way.
"Real—"
"Sshhh... you are being too noisy."
Sho gulped before he moved closer. He was eager, enticed with idea regaining freedom. "Tell us!"
"We've only been here for days, Sho, but..."
He told them the things he had found out about the Tower, its interior of the Tower accessible to slaves, the path to the docks and all hindrance he knew about. It wasn't much nor impressive, but 10 years old were very impressable with insight beyond their box.
"Sho, Wally," he said. "If we want to be free, we have to do this together."
Jellal knew he got them in when both of them grinned. No matter the world, no children could resist the temptation of jailbreak and big secrecy.
It had been a week since 'Jellal' arrived in the world of magic, discussing plan which tighten his relationship with Sho and Wally. Their ideas were often amusingly nonsensical, but it was all expected from children and their wild unrestricted minds. Mostly, they were familiarizing themselves with the Tower's interior and guard patterns, searching for abusable weak points.
"E-everyone," Sho sniffled, scared and uncertain, "can we... can we really get out from here?"
Jellal could understand why. A group of children from another sector had been caught sneaking into the docks and their grotesque bodies had been openly displayed in the middle of Tower as a message.
"I don't know," the blue-haired answered honestly. Probably not the brightest idea, but he wasn't a good liar to begin with, "there's only one way to find out."
"How could you be so calm about this?!" Wally questioned with indignation. "Kids like us are dying out there!"
"Calm?" Jellal frowned, staring dead at Wally's eyes. "Hell no. I'm also scared like you, but—"
"Hey!" Wally spluttered "W-who said I'm scared?! I'm not scared!"
"Pfft. Could have fooled me, bro. You were rattling like a twi—hoekh!"
Sho giggled as his friends went on another wrestle. Antics like these weren't uncommon between them, but nowhere good enough, never enough to overcome the dread inside this wretched tower.
The more they learnt about the Tower and its inhabitants, the harder it seemed for them to escape.
The dock was the only non-magical way to depart from Tower of Heaven and it's heavily guarded. Additionally, there were guards stationed at the upper floors who could spot suspicious movement at the dock, making it impossible for them to sneak into the ship without being bombarded by magic. He hadn't even mention the hounds and possible magical security measure such as alarm and all that.
"If only we can use magic," Sho muttered.
Sho's words stopped Jellal and Wally dead at their tracks.
Magic. It was one of the first things that struck into their mind when they pondered about escaping. Regardless of the power of a spell, magic is magic. Even beginners would have significant advantage against those who could not use magic, and this would be the only hope children like them to even the odds against adults with weapons and magic.
With magic, they might have a real chance to spark a revolt, and revolt has higher chance of success compared to stealthily escaping an out-of-nowhere island filled with dark mages and guard dogs. Even canon had proven this correct; revolt had succeeded where stealthy escape had not.
"Yeah," Jellal agreed easily, "Too bad gramps can't help us."
They had talked to Rob, but the old man couldn't give. Not because Rob didn't want to, but because the guards intentionally starved him to prevent retaliation. They knew Rob was a light guild wizard, but instead of eliminating him, they used him as a message to break down ideas of retaliation. If Rob, a wizard, couldn't escape, what hope do magicless civilians have?
Adding old age, physical work, lack of rest, and flashiness of offensive magic into the mix, it's not possible for the elder to properly teach them.
No literature to read on, no practical demonstration, and no supportive environment. Their chance of learning magic from old man Rob was as good as none.
"Ah! P-please, stop!"
"Damn you! Release us you damn prick!"
SLAP!
The trio winced. Harsh stomps of boots approached their cell followed by adults, entering their sight with a crying child roughly shoved towards the cell followed by two others.
There were two girls of their age, the younger girl had a face which somewhat reminded them of a cat while the older one had brown eyes and scarlet hair. Last but not least was a tanned boy with black hair.
"A-are you okay?" Sho was the first to approach the newest additions of their cell, an action closely followed by Jellal and Wally
Millianna, Erza, and Simon had arrived at Tower of Heaven.
"SLACKER!" shouted a guard as he whipped Jellal like no tomorrow "You can rest when you are fucking dead, you hear me? DEAD!"
Jellal let him, taking all the lashing while pulling a large stone brick with rope over his shoulder. He ignored ear-ringing barks of the hounds, moving forward where the ground elevated towards upper floors with worn-out body.
Every hint of delay was swiftly punished by cracks of whip, whether men, women, or children. It was half a day later until he was returned to his cell along with his fellow child-slaves. Getting beaten was normal. No matter how hard-working the slaves were, no one could work nonstop and when the time comes, the whips would crack.
At the very least, the dark mages saw value in proper food distribution. The slaves weren't fed like meat to piranha for one, allowing children like them to have their shares.
Other than that, the dark mages were quick to make example of slaves who tried to assert dominance over others, turning them to laughingstock as they did. According to the dark mages, the only top dogs around here were them and no one else. How ironic, to play goodies while they themselves were the ones who enslaved people.
They bit into their stale and slightly mossy bread. Erza, Millianna, and Simon had puked when they had their first lunch, but it had been a long while since then.
It had been three months since orphans of Rosemary arrived. The last-name conversation had happened not long after, resulting in 'Scarlet' as Erza's last name. Other than that and their jailbreak project, not much interesting things had happened.
They had learned from the previous group of children who were 'moved to another sector'. Escaping wasn't meant to be rushed, and so they took their time to work things out, to gather the necessary contrabands and pick out the forgotten wall that led to biological-waste dump where the waves clean up the rest.
It was a wall mining operation, a very dangerous flag to meddle with. Jellal didn't want to resort to it, but due to limited resources and simplicity of Tower of Heaven's interior at its early stage, the gang couldn't come up with any other feasible plan. Different from canon however, it was Jellal instead of Sho who proposed the idea, with much deeper consideration than 'break the wall and hope for the best at the other side'.
Suprisingly, the plan came together but not without a cost. There were hallways no slaves should pass through and to map them out, they had to pay the price through painful whippings.
Jellal shook his head to shrug off the horror. It had already passed. It didn't matter anymore. They got the info they needed. In fact, after months of patience, the beaten path was already open and now, they did what they did best. To observe the docks' routine and shipments before finding the perfect opportunity to strike.
"I'm done."
A boy spoke in their now children-only cell as the adults had left for their bigger shifts.
Millianna timidly turned towards the speaker, "Wally?"
"Like, seriously." Wally seethed. His hands clenched as he turned to look at Jellal, "Why are we still here anyway?"
Sho gulped. "But—"
"Oh, come on!" the boy pushed on, looking all over their group for support, "You know I'm right. We've got everything we need weeks ago. We don't have to suffer anymore!"
"Wally, not so loud," Simon hissed.
It might seem forcing, but Jellal understood the reason of Wally's shorter fuse. Jellal had been a child soldier and gardener, Wally had been a potato farmer, and Simon had been a crate loader. While not equal to that of labour slaves, they weren't new to strain of physical work, but the same could not be said for Sho, Millianna, and Erza who received more daily lashes than them.
Out of his group, Wally had been enslaved the longest, and it hurt him to see his friends suffer on the hands of dark mages. Seeing Sho depressed had grinded Wally's gears, and hearing Erza and Millianna crying themselves to slumber had unsettled him more than before.
"But he's right, Jellal," Simon added, turning to the blue-haired boy. "We've skipped three shipments now and nothing changed between them. What are you waiting for?"
The ganged boy was silent, his face stiffened as he pondered. Before he could say anything, Erza Scarlet beat him to it.
"Can... can ojii-san come with us?"
That out-of-nowhere question was enough to halt their conversation and instill calmness to their patience. They remembered Rob, the old man who had been so kind to them, who gave them comfort and hope when life was too much to bear and when no other adults would care. Earlier plan design accounted Rob into consideration, but after better insight to the environment, adapting their plan and lowering the bar was unavoidable.
Truth to be told, Erza had been secretly holding this question for a while now, convincing herself that her deduction was wrong, that they wouldn't leave Rob behind. Now that they were about to give what they had been working for a go, Erza couldn't help but ask.
"Y-yeah," Millianna, despite her natural dislike for heated argument, put aside her shyness to follow Erza's lead. "We can't just leave him here."
Cat's out of in the open and everyone looked at each other. What are the odds of succeeding if they bring an old man who could hardly walk after his shift, who had trouble sneaking around due to his slower and larger figure?
"Jii-san won't fit through the wall," Erza turned to Simon in betrayal. His implication made clear by his next words. "He can't come with us."
She turned to Sho who lowered his head, to Wally who didn't dare to look, then finally, to the boy whose opinion she feared to learn the most, the main reason of her procrastination.
Raven met hopeful brown eyes, and Jellal found his conviction shaken. As the one who had contributed the most in their escape plan, he knew full well that Rob couldn't come. He wanted Rob to get out with them too, but they were just magicless children. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and the early batch had long since come to terms with it.
And then Milliana and Erza arrived with Simon. They who were so innocent and caring, whose smile brightened their days and reminded them of kinder side of the world before their gruesome days at Tower of Heaven. Like Wally, the boys wanted to protect their brightness, and they found their resolves shaken every time they remembered what should be left behind in order to escape. However, the pain and spite imbued by the guards could steel even the softest heart, and this held true to who had been enslaved the longest.
"We can free everyone later," Wally desperately reasoned, not only to Erza and the rest of the group, but also to himself. "The Magic Council will help us."
Magic Council were the goodies and they would surely free the slaves in the Tower. None of them denied this, but at the same time, they were children, and children had deep moral against abandonment. All of them turned towards one Jellal Fernandes, the mastermind of their plan who had been silent all this time.
"It's hard, I know, but if we want to save ojii-san, we have to get out first," Jellal said, more specifically to Erza and Millianna to convince their minds. They were still worried, but he could see them easing up a little.
"Remember what the guards spoke hours ago? The new batch coming two days from now. Everyone in?"
There was no disagreement, only reluctance from few.
Ever since Jellal had come here, star gazing had been his favourite pass time when sleep didn't come for him. In his mind, the sky represented outside world, the freedom, and the stars were sweet golden apples he sought to obtain.
Jellal sat down in front of the barred window of their cell, sighing in disappointment. It was saddening that the sky was exceptionally cloudy that night.
Two days from now, they would put their plan in motion. Their first attempt to get out and hopefully, the last.
No. They only had one shot at this. Failure would only result in them being another deterrent message for the whole Tower to see.
He wiped the wetness of his palm to the fabric of his dusty green pants, gulping down the anxiousness which had been clouding his mind since his kickstart prior. Even before his time as Jellal, he hadn't been the bravest, nor the smartest and most confident. However, he had trusts placed on top of his shoulders, and failure was not an option.
Jellal Fernandes was scared. Different possibilities of what could go wrong and how to solve them endlessly simulated in his mind, an effort to calm down his nerves, but only for it to do the opposite as what could go wrong most often had no solution than the otherwise.
Could he do it? Could he defy what fate had in store for him?
"Jellal?"
Soft footsteps slowly approached him, but his eyes remained fixated towards the window as he spoke, "You can't sleep?"
"Mm," she replied, "How about you?"
He turned his eyes towards the small figure who seemed to shrink as his gaze landed on her, a different kind of beauty compared to that of night sky, but a beauty nonetheless. She whose smile as bright as the stars, whose cheerful voice as warm as cloudless summer morning.
His eyes lowered as he closed his lips. What was there to say, that he was scared? Afraid that their months of planning and suffering ended up crashing down on top of their heads? He couldn't. He needed to be confident, he needed to be strong for himself and everyone else.
She didn't say anything in return, merely sat down beside him. The silence stretched on without both of them saying anything, the silence which Jellal broke.
"I don't know, Erza," he said, his eyes slowly closed as drowsiness slowly took him. "I don't know."
Everything could happen, everything could go wrong, and the same couldn't be said for the opposite. Even if they manage to sneak into a departing ship, who said that they would be able to escape the transportation unharmed? What if they got blasted out by mages? Sniffed out by the dogs? Hunted down by animals in the forest, or bandits, or another band of slavers?
Anything could happen, and if it did, it would be game over. Everything would be for naught. He would have his life taken out of him again, his sight darken like burning candle at the end of its thread.
He almost jolted when skin touched his pinkie finger, before a hand placed itself further on top of his own with forced bravery. He looked up to a very flustered Erza whose face colour matched her hair.
"I'm sure we'll be fine, so don't worry too much, okay?"
The boy looked downward towards his caressed hand. Erza did the same before squeaking, but before she could retract her hand out of embarrassment, he gently took it into his calloused grasp.
"J-J-Jellal?" she stammered, her cheeks as pink as a boiled shrimp, mind too numb in embarassment to properly form coherrent words.
"We will get out from here," he whispered, his haunting fear and anxiety dissipated. "I promise."
He would end their suffering. He would bring them all to vast land and open ocean with freedom in their hands.
She pursed her lips which stretched into a smile, A smile which should never belong in Tower of Heaven. "Mhm!"
But fate was rarely so kind.
"Wake the fuck up!"
Out of nowhere, loud metallic bangs echoed repetitively inside the prison block, jolting everyone out from their restless sleep.
"Wake up! Get on your feet, you disgusting lots!"
It was the guard captain, his hand slamming the closest metal bars with a bat. More of the dark mages entered the prison block, each unlocking the cell before herding the slaves outside.
"What's going on?" Simon asked with a tint of fear, quickly silenced by a handful smack.
The slaves were herded outside of their cells towards the ground floor of still roofless main Tower of Heaven, now much cleaner with minimum debris. They were circled by guards and their dogs, and at the upper floor were magicians with the commander himself in the midst of them.
From a familiar route, three guards walked towards the center, one of them carried a small crate which he soon placed on the ground
"Today, we've gotten ourselves some interesting findings," exclaimed the commander, his voice audible despite the large distance between them, no doubt amplified by magic.
Cold. That's what the children felt when the crate's content unceremoniously poured towards the floor. A makeshift rope, a smuggled pickaxe, a dirty white shirt with map drawn out of coal, and multiple shivs for bar-cutting and self-defence.
"I applause whoever smartass among you," mocked the obese man. "To think you could abandon your duty to this holy tower."
"No…" Wally whispered, his hope came crashing down on him.
If they found their secret stash, they must have snuffed out their work as well. All those suffering, all those time spent scrapping the old wall...
Gone.
It was a fact that the gang didn't accept straight away, blinded by believe that all their efforts would amount to something, denial that's slowly torn apart as the head-slave continued his awful monologue.
"Let's give the spotlight to our witness, shall we?"
From another angle, the guards stepped aside to allow a person through, a man with clean white shirt and green short pants, his skin free from grim and dirt.
A familiar slave. A snitch from next cell pointed to them with a victorious grin. "Those children! I heard them scheming their foul escape in the afternoon!"
The snitch's words served as freezer to said children's core, especially the one who had been the loudest. All other slaves moved away from six mentioned children like plagues, for they didn't want to be in the way of what twisted plan the slavers had concocted in mind.
"Bastard..." hissed Simon through gritted teeth as the guards closed in on them, herding them further away from the crowd. "Oi, what should we do—"
The tallest boy stopped dead at his track when his sight landed on a fellow black-haired, whose eyes were dead and skin pale as moon, muttering words he couldn't hear.
"It is very impressive. To think a bunch of kids can go so far," the evil adult praised, clearly enjoying his sick theatrics. "Because you lots amused me, I'll be very generous this time. Only your big boss will be punished, the rest can go scot-free. Am I not nice?"
Jellal clenched his teeth, his mind replaying what had happened in canon, of his fate, a catalyst to black smog of fear which soon filled his lungs, his heart, and his mind.
"If you guttersnipes refused to spill, well... you know what happened to other naughty children, aren't you?"
Erza moved to Millianna's side, drawing comfort from each other. Simon stood straight beside Jellal, refusing to budge. All of them were scared, but they refused to spill.
In success and failure, they were in this together.
The blue-haired boy steeled his cold-drenched heart. His heart was touched by his friends loyalty, but he couldn't just stand still.
While his body was that of a child, he was the oldest. His short life had long since ended in that war, and his pride wouldn't let his fear dictate his action any further for survival. Less so using his friends as a shield to protect himself.
It was all over for him.
There was no way out from here and he sincerely hoped it only applied to him. The slave-leader might be lying through his golden teeth, but miniscule chance is better than no chance at all. And so Jellal decided.
"It's m—"
"JE-JELLAL!" A hoarse shout rang in the wide-open construction, a familiar voice whose owner was his de facto second-in-command, the boy he considered as a brother, now crying his eyes out. "I-It's him! His f-fault! HE PULLED US INTO THIS!"
If the ex-conscript said he wasn't affected, he would be lying. He felt like he was being barraged by bullets again, but deep down, he couldn't bring himself to blame Wally. He was just a child, a child who had too much on his plate.
"WALLY!" Simon shouted in rage towards the boy who seemed to have his soul sucked out from him, "HOW COULD YOU—!"
"He's right," the condemned didn't turn, nor did he deny. He raised his head towards the fat slob above, his voice loud and clear. "I'm their boss. It was my idea."
"Oh...?" Jellal swear, in all his life, he had never seen a man with such an evil grin. With a hand signal Jellal didn't understand, two of the guards who circled them move closer to detain him, but only when they moved pass him did he notice something was wrong.
"What are you doing!?" the tattooed child shouted as the guards dragged Wally to the centre of the circular hall, "It's me! I'm the one you want! Not him!"
One of the guards who surrounded Wally activated his electric rod, its tip pointing down towards the hollowed child's neck.
"STOP!"
What followed was a loud, piercing scream.
No matter how much Jellal tried to free himself from the grasp of his captors, he couldn't. His retaliation grew stronger the more Wally wriggled, but greatly receded when the electric rod stopped its magic flow, heralding the end of seemingly unending screech.
"Aa...h," the bluenette whimpered, shaking himself from the vice-like grips which slowly loosened. His wobbly legs tripped on themselves midway, but it didn't stop him from dragging himself to one of his first friend in this new world. "Wally…!"
"… Je... lal...?"
"Shh," he hold the black-haired boy in his arms. "You're going to be fine. We will get out from here remember? Find your big bro together?"
In his delirious state, Wally didn't seem to hear him, his vocal cord barely working, and life slowly faded from those raven eyes of his.
"Nii...chan"
The guards sneered and his friends cried behind him, but all Jellal heard was silence from the tongue of the one in his arms.
"... Wally?"
There was no response.
From the middle of the roofless tower, Jellal heard nothing but silence.
No motion, no breathing, and no sound. In his embrace was but a burnt body emitting bitter smoke, and in this stillness did he hear words from his deepest consciousness.
"How useless."
"Take them away," said the head-slaver as he gave a shooing motion, now bored that the climax of the show had passed. His loyal followers wordlessly obeyed. One of them extended his arm to Jellal, but stopped halfway through.
"—?!"
They looked above, moved by sudden illumination from the sky, and found that the clouds were punctured, leaving a giant hole that revealed the moon and countless stars. The once dark hall was illuminated, showering the boy who silently cried in the middle of Tower with their presence.
Yellow light softly shrouded the mourning boy who softly laid down the dead and only now did everyone became as silent as the boy perceived them to be, both slaves and slavers, men and canines.
Everyone saw him raised his arm, palm directed to the traitorous man who sold them out, who didn't understand the meaning of such gesture before a yellow ray sprung and speared his heart.
The commander shouted before the snitch hit the ground, voice filled with surprise and unhidden greed. Those closest to Jellal moved to apprehend him. Their sinful hands closing towards the exposed limbs of the boy, only to be knocked back by invicible force. The young slave perished, leaving a trail of yellow light as he flew upward to the sky, towards the one who called for Wally's death.
A knee connected to the head-slaver's chin, mangling his head before his large body fell in a loud thud. Broken out from their stupor, The magicians hurriedly lit up their staffs, but against the boy who moved as fast as a falling meteor, they could do nothing.
Guards below watched helplessly as ball of light slaughtered their magicians above. Their captain tried to regain control over the growing disorder, but was completely caught off guard as burst of fire swallowed him and a few others whole.
After years of cruel attempts to separate him from his magic, Rob forced his old bones to its utmost limit. He had fought and he had been broken. Helplessness had long subdued him to inaction, but no longer.
A child had been murdered in front of him and he had done nothing.
Rob had had enough. No matter what happened to him, he refused to stand idle any longer.
"What are you waiting for?!" the elder shouted with anger forgotten by his fellow slaves, more than enough to reignite the smouldering embers within their heart. "Freedom is in our reach! Fight for it!"
The slaves roared as Rob took the dead captain's sword, and so the long awaited revolt truly began.
Lacrima alarms rang from all corners of the Tower of Heaven. With the absence of their commander, the slavers' highest form of leadership was split between captains of each sectors who were arguing whether to attack or defend their advantageous ground.
Contrasting the impression they gave towards the slaves, there were only few magicians among them, and all of the high-rankers were summoned to the commander's side for intimidation purpose. All of them were believed to be dead by now, and the death of high-rank magicians didn't only serve as a huge blow to the slavers' manpower, but also their way to communicate to outside world, namely to the dark guild they were working under.
"We've lost contact with sector six!"
"Bastards! To the depths of hell, all of them!"
"Where are the mages?!"
"They are trying to find another way to contact Grimoire Heart. We must hold them off! Do not let them get to the ship—!"
They snapped their head towards the end of dark hallway, where yellow light fluttered from the corner, growing bigger in stupendous rate.
"Shit! Formation! QUICK—"
They froze when a light-imbued sword struck one of their chests. The rest of the patrols raised their spears in panic only to go down in similar fashion.
"Jellal, wait! Don't go alone, idiot—?!"
Jellal turned towards the tanned boy who gulped down after seeing their enemies around his blood-stained ally, broken and bleeding. The rest of the slaves soon caught up to where they were.
"We have to secure the docks as soon as possible." Rob exclaimed. Being a mage and the oldest among them, Rob took it to himself the role of leadership.
"What about other slaves?" a young man spoke.
"We are going nowhere without a ship! Get moving!"
"UOOHH!"
The dock was in the horizon. Their freedom was in sight and their morale at its highest. Strength of numbers were with them, and they plunged themselves towards the opposition's vanguard.
"Fucking trash! You think you can win?!"
"Die dogs!"
Blood was spilled from both side. Limbs dismembered and torsos ripped. Scream of triumph and agony all mixed into one. It was hell, hell which would soon come to an end for the slaves of sector six, and that promise alone was enough to prevent them all from breaking down on the spot. There was only one option and that was to keep going. They would have their freedom either in life or death.
"JELLAL!"
It all happened in an instant. So suddenly and out of nowhere. All the blue-haired perceived was Simon throwing himself at him before both of them were blasted away in magical explosion.
Everything was ringing and blurry. Jellal pushed up his injured body to his knees and looked around, ignoring the dust which prickled his eyes before he finally found what he was looking for.
Simon's backside was blown off, and his face was forever etched with frozen terror.
Just like that, Simon was dead. Removed from realm of living like a nameless character, another corpse in the stack. All because Simon wanted to protect him.
Jellal felt himself raised from the ground, dragged away to safety by someone he couldn't name. While it happened, he saw a glimpse of Erza crying down beside a dead body of Rob, glowing in emerald light as discarded weapons around her floated into the air and aimed down on the newly arrived magic squadron.
The slaves' reinforcement had been dispatched with no survivors. It was over in a matter of seconds, allowing the slaves to check on everyone who survived, him being prioritized the most due to his capability of magic.
"... Jellal!" a few moments later, a face with scarlet hair covered most of his sight, wistful, terrified, and desperate. "No...no no no! Please! Not you too…!"
"I… I'm okay," he whispered hoarsely. "Simon... he—"
She yelped when he began to cough a bit of blood.
It was painful. Seeing someone much younger than him in verge of breakdown. Jellal had seen it a lot but it never got easier. He wanted to extend his arms, to hug her like he did when she was plagued by nighmares, but his arms no longer had the strength to move. Instead, she was the one who did it.
"To the ship!" Erza shouted, "We are getting out from here!"
No one disagreed with what she had said. Two of their mages were shut down and their numbers had been cut short. There was no more sign of enemy reinforcement but they knew it wouldn't last. No doubt the slavers from other sectors would be on their way after getting themselves together. Staying around would only spell their doom.
"Where...?" he asked Erza who carried him with his arm hung on her shoulder. "Where are they?"
She stiffened.
"Sho...?" he told himself that it was just him imagining things, that she wasn't trembling "Millianna...?"
Erza didn't answer. She couldn't bring herself to answer. Another slave came to them, offering to carry Jellal in her stead only to be refused with a very defensive no. She held back from sniffling, trying her hardest to appear strong. "W-when I found t-them... they—"
"...they," tears stained both of her cheeks once more, her front slowly crumbling apart, "they are gone."
Got a random idea and seeing no OC isekai story inserted as Jellal, I decided to give it a go.
MC's isekai circumstance is not based on any real-life events. Truck-kun is too overrated and I wanted to write it a bit differently. That's all.
MC was a 16 years old dude before kicking the bucket, replacing Jellal Fernandes when he was 12 years old. For comparison, Erza was 11 years old when she escaped Tower of Heaven. He's not Gary Stu so he will have his share of mistakes.
MC isn't based on me, so it's not a self-insert story. MC only watched the show until early part of GMG, so he's not a know-it-all. This is why he viewed Jellal Fernandes as a cursed character in his inner monologue.
The first chapter might seem a bit too dark, but it's Tower of Heaven. The purpose of this is to remind MC that Earthland isn't as kind as depicted in the show. Because MC came out with more coordinated jailbreak despite failure, the revolt happened at different time than in canon, leading to Ultear being elsewhere. The following chapters shouldn't be as heavy or dark.
I didn't want to spend too much time on Tower of Heaven, so I suppose it kind of felt rushed.
Pairing is yet to be decided. I don't intend to go harem route because it's very hard to write properly, so I suppose no harem is better than sloppy harem. Therefore, pairing would be 1-on-1. Because MC ended up as Jellal, Erza would be the logical way to go, but again, it's not set in stone yet. I guess I'm one of those heathens who prefers to play around non-vanilla pairing.
Anyway, I'm open to constructive input that helps me write better. English isn't my first language so if you find grammar mistakes, please let me know.
Thank you for reading.