A/N: In which Erza repays the kindness one last time. (Erza-centric)
She was dying. She knew that much.
With a ragged gasp, she tried dragging herself across the floor, painstakingly aware of the way the world beneath her was shaking. This is the end.
She was giving up, her body shutting down, but all of that stopped as the thought of a blue-haired mage flitted across her mind. Jellal. She had to stay strong for him. She owed him that much; she owed her guild that much, didn't she?
Her desperation began to fade away, giving room to the determination brewing deep within her. No, the fate of the world rested on her shoulders. She would not fail. Could not fail.
The world around her was burning, lighting up the skies with varying hues of red, orange, and yellow. But none of the licks of heat dancing around her were brighter than the newly reignited flame in her heart.
It could be the last thing she did, but she would save the lives of those who were precious to her. Save those who had saved her. Save him. They had come to terms with their friendship, with their affections, and Erza would stay true to the love she held for the man who could not forgive himself. The keeper of the hearth in her chest, the one who kept her fireheart forever alive.
She raised her upper body off the ground, her muscles screaming in agony as she raised her sword. Higher, higher, higher above her head, before bringing it down upon the device in front of her. A metallic screech echoed through the air, loud and liberating.
A final smile graced her lisp as she finally succumbed to her wounds, grateful to the gods for allowing her to save her friends, and lover, one last time.
Even in death, Erza's fireheart flickered and danced wildly, burning brighter than ever before.