When Number 8 opened his eyes, he knew he wasn't in the tower. He was greeted with a white tiled ceiling that he knew every inch and facet of. The air was cool yet stale, and he was sitting on a dingy wooden chair, leaning back as he passed the time by counting the indents in the ceiling.

Oh...

He was in a dream.

I must have passed out.

The air mage he had been fighting, Aria, must have won. It wasn't shocking, but Number 8 was bummed that he couldn't at least get a good hit in before he inevitably lost. The most he could do was clip the brim of the man's hat and take enough of the wall to bring the tower down on both their heads.

"Wonder if that got him... probably not."

Number 8 sighed as he looked down from the ceiling, his gaze flickering to the door as it clicked open. His eyes were downcast as he saw Number 7 walk in, this time in memory instead of the fake he'd confronted in the mirror.

"Hey, I'm back!"

Her footsteps were light as she walked towards him with a spotless canvas on her skin. Her uninjured figure let Number 8 know that the practical must have been against a number she could handle easily.

"Did you miss me? It's fine if you did, you know," Number 7 spoke cheekily, her eyes joyous as she stepped over the mattresses and towards Number 8, who only watched her with a hundred-yard stare.

These dreams are the worst...

Number 8 gave a small sigh as she walked behind his chair and moved to his hair that had grown past his shoulders, her hands running through it methodically. Number 8 familiarized himself with the old feeling of her touch as he spoke, "I miss you."

I miss you so much...

Number 8's thoughts were kept to himself as Number 7 chuckled, her voice feather light as she hummed, "That's sweet. Don't worry, though. Today wasn't hard. I fought 13, and you know how 13 is when it comes to magic..."

Number 8 nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back into Number 7's fingers and listened. His breath fell softly as he spoke with a slight, tired reminiscence, "Thirteen was the worst mage in the complex before Vera showed up."

Number 7 let out a small chuckle in surprise, her voice light as she rested her chin on Number 8's head, "Who's Vera? Do you mean the boy they brought recently? I heard he's around your age. Maybe you two could be friends one day..."

Number 8 let out a self-ridiculous laugh, his eyes shut as he felt Number 7's thin arms wrap underneath his chin. The simple hug was something he soaked in, along with the soft wonder laced in every syllable of her words, "Friends are nice to have. I think I got along with the other numbers while they were here. Plus, Number 13 can be fun, you know, once every blue moon."

Number 8 gave a soft snort; his eyes closed as he spoke with a quiet intelligence that hindsight could offer him, "You know you could have just told me Number 13's anger was a weakness if you were worried about my first practical."

Number 8 glanced back through barely opened eyelids, his eyes meeting Number 7's surprised golden ones as she gave a small, sheepish chuckle, "Oh? Was I caught? That's a shame. I figured my acting skills were a little better than that," Number 7 shook her head with a slightly proud expression, "I guess you're just too smart for me to trick now, aren't you?"

Number 8 gave a small huff as he glanced away, his ears tinged red as he muttered under his breath, "I wouldn't say that..."

Number 8 had just learned a bit after dealing with Ultear's shenanigans. Enough to realize that there were quite a few things that Seven had hidden from him to protect him. She played off her worries with stories and ramblings, hiding the lessons she wanted him to pick up under the surface.

"Now, don't say that!" Number 7 said sternly, pulling Number 8 out of his thoughts as she pinched his cheek. Number 8 yelped as he listened to Number 7 speak with a tone that showcased her motherly-sisterly tendencies, "You are smart, and I'll beat up anyone that says otherwise. Then you can beat them up with the maker magic I taught you."

Number 8 huffed as Number 7 let his cheek go, a slight pout on his face as he rubbed his bruised cheek. Number 8 looked up to see Number 7 standing with her arms crossed, her golden eyes shining with righteous fury as he muttered, "You don't like hurting people, though..."

"Well, you're an exception." Number 7 replied instantly, her resolve not wavering as she watched Number 8 look at her wide-eyed before he broke into laughter. His eyes watering as he soaked in the warmth of his memories before catching his breath and meeting Number 7's surprised and slightly confused expression.

"I did become friends with him, you know..." Number 8's words were heavy, his eyes locked with Number 7's as he shattered the small oasis his dream offered him, "He's the one who helped me escape."

After you disappeared...

Number 8 watched as Number 7's eyes widened, her image blurred as he spoke somberly, "I want to tell him my name..."

The one you gave me...

Number 8 watched as Number 7's eyes faded, the dream distorting as he spoke, every ounce of desire and emotion etched in his heart, "I want my name to be more than just a painful reminder of you."

I love it too much to let it fade.

Number 8 watched as Number 7 started to disappear, the vestiges of his dream blurring out of existence along with Number 7's smile. Yet even then, her words ran through his mind like a little goodbye to settle his lingering fears.

"I think that's a wonderful idea..."

Number 8 gulped as the dream faded, his eyes watering as he watched Number 7 flicker in and out of reality, her words ringing with the warmth he could never seem to forget, "You have a beautiful name..."

Number 8 blinked as he watched the room's light flicker on and off, Number 7 vanishing as his waking thoughts echoed the girl who loved him far more than he could ever understand. The one that gave him his name...

"It would be a waste if you didn't use it."

The one that raised him...

"Yeah..."

The one who loved him was gone just as quickly as the first time.

"I think so, too."

Number 8's eyes fluttered open a second later, where he was greeted with a wooden ceiling. The emptiness of the lab faded as he heard Vera speak with a thinly concealed concern, "Hey, you okay?"

Vera leaned back from the nearby couch and watched Number 8 stir himself awake. The first words from Vera's mouth in hours were littered with worry and questions: "You're crying."

Vera stood from his spot in the tiny one-room apartment, his steps taking him to Number 8, who had successfully blinked the memories away. Number 8 rubbed the tears from his eyes as he gave a simple, shaky nod and looked up, meeting Vera's concerned eyes with a reassured grin, "Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine..."

I feel better than I have in a while...

Number 8 felt like a worry had been lifted off his shoulders, and as such, he was ready to make good on his promise. He was prepared to tell Vera his real name, but first...

"Where are we?"

He wanted to know why they were in a single-room apartment and not in a jail cell like he'd somewhat expected, especially since he destroyed the old tower. The fact that he was in new clothes was odd, too: a pair of jeans, a blue t-shirt, and a thin white jacket that he ditched immediately since it was still too warm for his liking.

"What happened after I lost?" Number 8 asked, his gaze flicking over the basic kitchen to the rest of the room, with him on the twin bed. Number 8 glanced at a closed door that was probably the bathroom before turning back to Vera, who shook his head at the question, "It's a long story..."

Vera sighed as he walked over to the kitchen, stealing cereal from the cabinet and making Number 8 a bowl; all the while, he narrated how his past few hours had been, "I woke up a couple of hours ago and talked with Jose, the man that first found us."

Vera glared at the bowl of cereal, his eyes narrowed and his voice dipping into something more vengeful before he looked back at Number 8, who hung onto Vera's every word, "He offered us a deal."

Vera's every bitter word.

A few hours earlier*

Vera woke up with a pounding headache and a slight groan, his eyes adjusting as he sank into something strangely soft and comfortable. A cushion underneath him wasn't what he expected; he figured a jail cell was more up his alley after he collapsed the cellar on Jose's head.

What happened...

Vera shifted himself up, surprised to find himself in an office. There was a large oak desk with a gothic window behind it that took up most of the wall, and the walls to either side of him held a few bookshelves and a couple of paintings, with the wall behind him having the only door in sight.

Oh yeah...

There were strewn letters and a pile of unfinished paperwork on the desk, with a stamp on the desk and a unique logo.

I got caught.

It was a purple ghost.

What happened to eight...

He was sitting alone on a couch facing the desk, his back to the door as he looked around for any sign of eight. A slight worry bit his gut as he failed to find any sign of the blue-haired boy, his eyes flicking towards the closed door with a slight frown.

I need to find eight.

Vera played with his options, which included grinding his magic container on the off chance Sho could be summoned or breaking the window and seeing if he could fly.

'Click'

Neither was feasible once the door opened and threw him out of his thoughts.

"Well, look at that; I can finally talk to one of the little terrorists that destroyed my tower."

Jose Porla walked in with a confident smirk, his mannerisms the same as he saw the boy narrow his eyes. Jose ignored the boy's apparent disdain and caution as the wizard saint strolled past his captive and sat in his spinning leather accent chair, hands folded under his chin as he rested elbows on the desk, "So, care to introduce yourself? I want a name to connect with the runt who made half of Oak Town think the city was under attack."

Vera kept his mouth shut; his eyes narrowed at Jose, who watched with a thinly veiled interest. Vera ignored it as he crossed his arms and leaned back, refusing to address anything Jose had to say before he settled his primary concern, "Where's eight?"

Vera watched Jose raise an eyebrow, a small, amused chuckle leaving the wizard saint's lips as he leaned back in his chair and spoke haphazardly, "Oh, so you call him eight as well? I didn't believe Aria when he said the kid referred to himself as a number, but then again..." Jose flicked his eyes over to the boy; his words dipped in honey as he spoke with a selfish curiosity, "The World's full of surprises."

Unsurprisingly, the boy didn't answer, but he gripped his arms tighter. Holding the boy's barely born anger with a smirk and a dismissive wave, Jose said, "The blue-haired kid is still recovering from draining his magic container. You've both been out for over a day, but he will probably wake up soon since you've already recovered," Jose glanced curiously at Vera, "Quite quickly, if I might add, figured you'd be out for a lot longer."

Vera made it a point not to react to Jose's comments. Jose gave an almost disappointed frown as he returned to his explanation, "Aria will take you to him if you cooperate," Jose pointedly tapped his finger on the table, "Your name, since the other one is calling himself eight, will be a good starting point."

The silence stretched as Jose watched the boy chew over his words with an expressionless mask, time ticking away with Jose's finger until the boy opened his mouth with an apparent reluctance, "Vera."

Vera watched as Jose hummed, mockingly opening his palms placatingly. Jose spoke with the same tone one would use with a baby that learned not to shit itself, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Rude and disrespectful; surprised Isvan didn't suit you and your boorish demeanor," Jose retorted with a sarcastic drawl, his lips quirking upwards as he saw the color drain from Vera's face. Vera buried his shock an instant too late as he narrowed his eyes, controlling his voice as he asked, "How did you know?"

Vera's gaze lingered as Jose scoffed, leaning back on his chair with an air of superiority around him and his snobbish, prickly voice, "How could I not? Two kids with heavyweight winter jackets that were hanging on by threads. You couldn't look more like refugees if you tried."

Jose flicked his finger, a book from one of the shelves flying to him before it laid itself out on the desk, its pages open to show a map of Ishgar for the boy to look over. At the same time, Jose narrated, "When Deliora was running amok in Isvan, refugees flooded into Fiore. More than a few of them ended up in Oak Town," Jose flicked his finger, and the book flew back to the shelf, his eyes lazily glazing over the boy and his guarded expression, "It doesn't take a genius to figure out the rest."

Vera kept his expression neutral, the only sign of his inner turmoil being the slight clenching and release of his jaw. His eyes burned with thinly concealed anger as Jose rolled his eyes and spoke with an unmistakable sense of selfishness, "Now that we've settled how I could tell a street rat from a foreign mouse, let's move on to something important."

Jose's casual demeanor fell at that moment, the air growing thick with his magic and threatening to strangle Vera, who had to do his best not to pass out from its weight. Vera's body was unwillingly trembling as he forced himself to meet Jose's glare and listen to Jose's scathing words, "Why did you come to Oak Town?"

Vera felt his palm start to sweat as he was squeezed under Jose's scrutinizing glare, Vera understanding that he was being questioned now. Not as a stupid kid but as a threat that Jose had to assess, one that had come to his town and destroyed a relic outside the city.

"I didn't want to..."

If Vera lied, his chances of dying increased exponentially. Jose had the credibility and justification to dispose of him and get away with it; lying wasn't an option.

"I didn't want to stop at Oak Town."

That didn't mean he had to tell the whole truth, though.

"So this was a surprise for both of us, huh..." Jose muttered, reeling in his magic pressure as he watched Vera slump slightly in relief. Jose turned his now bored gaze towards the moonlit window that looked over the town, like his one personal kingdom. His eyes lingered on the dismal heap of rubble on the horizon as he spoke with a thinly veiled interest.

"Where were you trying to go?"

Jose heard, rather than saw, the boy stiffen. Jose's gaze turned from the window to see Vera looking at him with what could be considered the height of caution. The boy's muscles were tense as he seemed to mull over his chances of successfully lying...

"Magnolia..."

Ultimately, the boy recognized there was no chance of lying, not to a Wizard Saint.

"We were trying to get to Magnolia."

Although Jose could see why the boy had considered it going off of his answer.

"Magnolia..." Jose growled, his magic unconsciously slipping past his control and wafting over the room. The sickening sound of his ghosts and their scathing anger echoed through the office before he forced them back. His eyes turned to meet the boy who had bit his tongue to keep himself from passing out under Jose's temper, "Now, why would you ever want to go to a place like that?"

The tense silence built as Vera did his best not to squirm under Jose's glare, the silence stretching until Vera initiated the conversation for the first time, a last-ditch effort to change the topic, "Why am I here?"

What's the point of this...

Vera wasn't dumb; he knew he shouldn't be here now. He should be in a jail cell, being interrogated by rune knights for destroying a possibly historical monument. Instead, he was sitting across from Jose, watching as the guild master quirked his eyebrows with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh?"

Jose momentarily allowed the topic of Magnolia to fall to the wayside as he spoke with an amused drawling, "Now that isn't any fun. Come on, you're smart enough to figure it out. Here, I'll even give you a hint," Vera flinched as Jose pointed at him, his words dipped in sarcasm, "Those are on the house."

Vera blinked cluelessly, his eyes following Jose's finger until he saw the new clothes he was wearing. A pair of black sweatpants, a white, long-sleeve shirt with a purple Oak Tree in the front that clung to his bony body like a wet rag, and a thin, lightweight red jacket with a string-laced hood squished between his back and the couch.

"You can't be serious..."

A black Phantom Lord logo was on the back of the jacket, bold and center for everyone to see.

"Dead serious," Jose responded, choosing not to take offense to the instinctive scowl that crossed the boy's face. The boy narrowed his eyes at Jose while his fingers clenched the new jacket sleeves, unable to contain his outrage as he yelled, "You hit your head back at the tower or something!? I tried to set you on fire! How does that equal an invitation to Phantom Lord!?"

Vera fumed, now openly, as he saw Jose roll his eyes and hold a single finger up, "First of all, the fact that you tried anything already makes you more worthy of an invitation than half the people under me. I guarantee 99% of them would have given up and begged if they were in your situation,"

Jose held up a second finger, his voice more professional, "Second, you and your friend have potential. It would be a waste for the two of you to end up in prison for months and stunt your progress," Jose scowled instinctively as the following words fell from his lips, "Or join a different guild that would waste your potential."

Vera gulped as he felt the air chill under Jose's displeasure, Vera sweating as he tried to keep his voice devoid of any sign of panic that had crept in during Jose's explanation, "Prison?"

Jose nodded with a slight grin as he waved his hand dismissively, "Yeah, prison. Believe it or not, that tower was important to Oak Town; the first guild master of Phantom Lord constructed it. The second used it as his study, as did the third, although if you ask me, that recluse was looking for a quiet place to read..."

Jose seemed to stall in his words, his mind drifting with a sad look before he shook his head and continued, "Regardless, you and your friend are in major debt. So much debt that jail time wouldn't be enough, the council might send you to prison to work it off," Jose raised his finger as Vera opened his mouth to argue, silencing the boy with a swift and pragmatic response, "And before you lean on your age for a pardon, you're a mage, age is irrelevant. What you did is under the jurisdiction of the magic council and according to their laws; any act of force similar to what you did to that tower," Jose pointed his thumb back at the window, letting Vera see the heap of rubble and disgruntled wall that had once stood tall in the distance, "constitutes as an act equivalent to that of a mage from a dark guild. By precedence, you'll be sent to jail, prison at the worst, and even if someone from the magic council decides to plead your case, it isn't guaranteed to happen quickly."

Jose then gave a pleasing smile, obviously practiced as it held the air of a seasoned politician or salesman, "Joining Phantom Lord would be a good way to pay off that debt; as the number 1 guild in Fiore, we get the bulk of the job requests, as well as special access to higher paying requests."

Jose watched as the boy swallowed his words with disgust. Jose ignored the frown on the boy's face as he leaned back in his chair with a lazy demeanor, "I'm also willing to offer you and your friend a place to stay, free of charge until you pay off that debt."

Jose noticed how Vera's eyes perked up for the first time since the conversation started, his eyes slightly wide as he spoke with apparent disbelief, "Really? You can give us a place to stay? What, is there a dorm system or something that-"

"No, I shut that down the second I became guild master," Jose replied instantly, his eyes narrowed as he watched Vera look at him with evident surprise. The seconds passed as the boy's expression teetered on caution and curiosity.

Nosy brat...

Jose gave an annoyed sigh as he turned his gaze towards the gothic-style window and spoke with a tone that made it obvious he wanted the matter dropped as soon as possible, "Phantom Lord used to allow mages of all ages to enter; it was a precedent, as long as they were strong anyone could enter Phantom Lord. When I took the helm, I put an age restriction of 14 and sold the dorms to a tenant family near the river."

Jose let out a thin breath, his finger twitching as he glared at the tower with scathing eyes. "There have been no exceptions since I became guild master, and I wasn't planning on making any, but you can say you and your friend have passed my personal requirements to join this guild early."

Jose turned back to the boy, whose eyes were now wide with surprise. The boy's flabbergasted reaction elicited a snort from Jose, who crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "What? You surprised that I don't fancy the idea of having child soldiers in my guild?"

"Yeah, actually..." Vera replied, tensing as he saw Jose's eyes twitch with irritation. Vera wisely decided to cough into his palm and move on to a more pressing topic before he got on Jose's nerves, "What's in it for you?"

Vera wasn't nearly naive enough to think that Jose was offering this out of the kindness of his heart. There had to be something in it for the man, and if Vera went off the way Jose raised a thin eyebrow, his theory wasn't far off, "Oh? What makes you think I'm not trying to be a philanthropist?"

"Everything about you."

"Fair enough," Jose replied dismissively, sighing as he leaned back on his chair and glanced up at the ceiling. His mind wandered as he spoke with an almost empty connotation, "As Phantom Lord's guild master, I said it before: it would be a waste to let you squander your potential," Jose then flicked his hand up, letting a small ghost burst into the air like a firework before he spoke without emotion, "As Jose Porla, let's say you have something that interests me greatly. There is nothing else I'm willing to convey on that matter until you accept the offer I'm so graciously giving you."

Vera frowned as Jose kept his stoic defense, Vera feeling the seconds tick by as he leaned back, his eyes narrowed and guarded as he spit through clenched teeth, "And if I refuse your so kind offer?"

Vera watched as Jose's face lost all sympathy, the man sneering as he spoke with venom, "Well, if you were so stupid as to refuse my offer, normally, I'd use my influence to have you shipped off to Isvan and branded a criminal, maybe even get you a sentence at Black Voxx..."

Vera stiffened as Jose stood up, hands behind his back with a mocking smile on his face as he walked around the couch, circling Vera like a shark, "Although after hearing your original goal, I might have to let you go," Jose then sneered, his words dipped in sarcasm and mockery as he spoke without a doubt in the world, "It would be hilarious to see you crawling back after Makarov rejects you from his guild."

Vera's eyes widened at the declaration, his fear of being found out forgotten as he gnashed his teeth and growled. His temper flared as he glared at Jose; Vera refused to let Jose mock the one thing that kept him sane back in the lab.

"How the hell would you know that!?"

The story of Fairy Tail was the one thing that kept him going when everything else seemed lost.

"Why wouldn't he let me join his guild, huh!?"

Vera refused to let Jose, of all people, drag his dream through the mud, "Fairy Tail would-"

"Accept a murderer?" Jose interjected, his eyes twisting in a cruel delight as he saw the boy stop dead in his tracks. Jose leaned against the back of the couch, his words dipped in honey and tauntingly echoing through the room, "What? Do you think I wouldn't be able to tell? Anyone with half a brain could tell you've killed before just by how you fight. It's one of the most impressive things about you if I'm being honest," Jose silently snickered as he saw the boy turn pale, his eyes hidden behind a tuft of black hair as Jose whispered seductive words into his ears, "It's impressive. Still, not everyone will see it that way. You think Fairy Tail, that idealistic guild full of self-righteous morons, would accept you?"

Jose let his words trickle in the boy's ear, "They wouldn't give you the time of day..."

Because, in the grand scheme of things, that's all he was...

"They'll reject you, and in doing so, you'll return to me."

A boy.

"So go ahead, run off to Magnolia for all I care. It would be a good wake-up call."

Jose laughed, his footsteps carrying him back to his chair as he sat down, his eyes snake-like as he glanced over the boy's emotionless exterior that seemed ever so practiced, "Even with that old bastard and his obsession with taking in every stray, he comes across," Jose let a whisk of dead magic leave his palm, molding it until there was a bobbing skull in his open hand, mockingly dancing at the boy who had a stony expression, "I doubt his bleeding heart could overlook a killer running around in his guild, no matter how young."

Jose waved his hand, dissipating the skull as he met the boy's gaze, this time without a speck of light in the boy's red pupils. Jose sneered as he firmly and eloquently grasped the words that would sink the resistance this boy was desperately clinging to: "Phantom Lord is a guild open to former criminals, one of the few light guilds that does so..."

Jose smirked as he saw the boy's eyes widen a fraction of an inch; Jose's words dipped in honey as he let his offer hang in the air where it would be up to the boy to claim it, "This guild would be an excellent place to cultivate someone of your disposition..."

Jose was confident, though...

"Phantom Lord values results above all else..."

He knew the boy would eventually come around.

"You won't be able to grow anywhere else but here."

Jose had seen those same eyes, young and hungry, hoping for a strength that always seemed just out of reach. The kind of desperation that made a child burn a cellar down rather than submit to their weakness, Jose had seen it all before...

"I will give you some time to think it over..."

At one point, Jose had seen it every time he looked in the mirror.

"In three days, I'll expect your answer."

Yet even his eyes never held the same viciousness that the boy's kept, the same narrowed darkness that made it obvious the boy knew more horrors than some of the adults who pretended to have survived the worst the world had to offer.

"I suggest you choose wisely."

Jose would be dammed if he let those eyes be wasted on an old fool like Makarov.

Present Time*

Vera's face fell as he finished the story, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath to calm his lingering anger. His eyes trailed to the ceiling as he laid back on the couch, the sound of Number 8 finishing his bowl echoing in the tense silence.

"What should we do?" Number 8 asked, setting his bowl on the nearby drawer before sitting on the bed and looking at Vera. Vera took a moment to calm himself before sitting up and meeting Number 8's searching expression with a conflicted one of his own, "I don't know..."

Vera wasn't lying...

"I don't know what to do."

Jose had thrown a wrench into his plans.

"I'm not sure if Jose's wrong," Vera said with a broken laugh, his eyes trembling as he turned to look at his palms. The memory of the doctor and all his shitty subordinates flashed through his mind as he clenched his fists, "I'm not sure what they'll do."

Vera hadn't cared about it then, and he still didn't. If he had to go back, he'd do the same thing a thousand times over; there just wasn't a facet of his morality that told him otherwise. He hated those robes more than anything; if he hadn't killed them, he would struggle to sleep at night.

"I don't know if Fairy Tail will want me."

Vera had believed, foolishly and childishly, that if he got to Fairy Tail, all his problems would be solved. He thought that everything he had been through, and all the damage it left on him, would vanish, and he'd be living the storybook. He'd be a part of Fairy Tail, the guild where everyone was a family and cared for each other. Everything would work out as long as he got to Fairy Tail...

"I'm not sure about anything anymore..."

He'd be living the dream that kept him sane during that nightmare of a year.

"I don't know what to do."

Vera never realized that it was just a dream. The reality was more complicated than getting to Magnolia and joining a magical guild where all his problems would be solved. There were things he had to overcome, and even if they accepted him in the guild, he wouldn't be allowed to operate the same way he had been.

"I don't think what I did was wrong..."

He couldn't join Fairy Tail and keep the same mindset and viciousness he'd learned at the lab. With time or persuasion, he'd eventually lose it, and in doing so, he'd lose an edge over everyone else. He'd lose a part of himself that could help him in the future, the part that Jose wanted to develop into something more...

"Fairy Tail might disagree..."

Something more than just a sharp mind.

"I don't know if I could accept that."

Vera knew it, and it was infuriating because he'd done so much to get to Magnolia. Since he woke up, that had been his dream, and with a few well-placed words, Jose had torn that apart. Every inch he had crawled towards his goal had become useless in hours because he wasn't just some random stray for Makarov to take pity on. His situation was more complicated than that...

Jose had seen that instantly.

"I don't know what to do..."

Now, even if Vera wanted to, he couldn't unsee it.

"What do you want to do eight?" Vera asked, thoroughly drained as he looked over to Number 8, who frowned and looked at his hands. Number 8 created and manipulated a few threads, playing with the threads that could harmlessly stitch a new set of clothes or instantly slice through a grown man.

"I'm not sure..."

Number 8 ran through the words Vera had said because even if he hadn't partaken in the slaughter back at the lab and technically hadn't killed anyone yet, it didn't matter.

"But being a mage is dangerous, isn't it..."

He could do it quickly enough; it wouldn't even be hard. Number 8 had grown up around death; the only difference between a number disappearing and an enemy disappearing is that he'd be the one doing it. There was barely a mental jump for him to make, and if he had to...

"We might have to fight dark mages down the line..."

If he needed to kill someone...

"There might be a time when the mages we fight are stronger than us... like Aria and Jose."

He knew he could do it.

"They might be able to kill us if we fight them..."

He knew he would do it if the situation called for it.

"I don't want my options to be restricted."

Number 8 formed his words, his eyes unbending as he met Vera's tired gaze. Number 8, making sure his tone was soft since he knew how much Fairy Tail had meant to Vera, "From what you said, it sounds like Jose is offering us a chance to start over..."

Oak Town was lovely, and Number 8 hated big cities anyway. In the grand scheme, it made little difference where Number 8 became a mage, but if he had a preference, Phantom Lord looked like a better option. Number 8 already had an understanding with Aria; he didn't mind making this place their home...

"I don't think joining Phantom Lord is the worst thing in the world, but..."

Number 8 liked the idea of joining Phantom Lord.

"If you want to go to Fairy Tail, I'll follow you."

Number 8 would follow Vera's lead because that got him this far. If Vera wanted to take the more challenging route and join Fairy Tail regardless, Number 8 would comply. That's why he held his tongue and waited, watching as Vera mulled over his words silently, taking a deep breath before speaking with a small voice, "Thanks, eight... I think I'll need some time to think it over."

Vera was tired, and since Jose had given him the three days, he planned to use them. There was still the chance that Fairy Tail would accept him, and there was the chance that they weren't entirely straight-laced like they were in the story.

"No problem, Vera..."

Vera only had a story; it wasn't like everything was guaranteed to be exactly how he remembered it. There were bound to be subtle differences since it wasn't like a murky story could be a one-to-one translation of real life.

"...and my name isn't eight..."

His conversation with Jose was proof of that; Jose hadn't been nearly as psychotic as in the story. He was an ass, sure, but Vera could at least understand the points Jose made. That was more than he could say for the story counterpart.

"...Number 8 was just my number..."

The story was just a guideline; Vera's existence reaffirmed that, so he would take a day or two to plan everything out. Mull over the chance that the guild, Fairy Tail, was different from the story depicted, and go from there...

"...I have a real name..."

The world Vera was living in was bound to be more complex than the story he woke up with...

"...It's Siegrain..."

Life was far more nuanced than...

"...my name is Siegrain."

A simple...

"It's nice to meet you, Vera."

Story...

"What?"

Fairy Tail was anything but a simple story.