Chapter-23: Understanding
A massive army marched through the narrow mountain range, their numbers swelling into the hundreds of thousands. At the head of this imposing force strode one man, his aura commanding respect and fear alike.
Invel Yura, the Winter General.
His sharp eyes scanned the towering walls of the canyon on either side, a strange unease settling in his chest. Something was off. The air carried a peculiar tension, heavy and foreboding.
Invel came to a halt, raising a hand to stop the advancing army. The soldiers stilled, their footsteps silenced as an eerie calm swept over them.
"Who goes there?" Invel's voice rang out, cutting through the stillness and echoing ominously off the canyon walls.
Thunder growled in the distance, followed by sporadic flashes of yellow and red lightning streaking across the sky. But the air... it was unnaturally cold. Bone-chilling. The kind of cold that seeped deep into the earth itself, freezing the very soul.
Too cold.
Suddenly, an impossibly frigid gust of wind surged from the depths of the canyon, barreling toward them with ferocious intent. Invel stood firm, his body untouched by the wave of frost, his mastery of ice shielding him from harm. But the soldiers nearest to him were not so fortunate.
In an instant, the closest battalion was frozen solid, their bodies encased in crystal-clear ice, their expressions frozen in terror.
Invel turned his head slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder at the carnage behind him. A thin smile curved his lips.
"Interesting…" he murmured, his voice carrying a faint trace of amusement. "You must be Gray Fullbuster."
SSS-Rank 'Rebel' Mage
Successor of Blitzgor
Winter Harbinger
Demon of Frost
Gray Fullbuster
The Ice Devil Slayer
Invel turned his head back, locking eyes with Gray, who was mere feet away, his mask still active, his steady breathing the only sound he made.
"Was I supposed to flinch when I turned around?" Invel asked calmly, his voice cold and measured.
Gray tilted his head slightly, his stance unyielding. "If you want it that way… you should've been on your knees, begging for your life."
"Quite the threat," Invel replied, his tone unbothered.
Gray said nothing, thunder and lightning still rumbling in the distance—courtesy of Laxus.
"I take it that's Laxus Dreyar," Invel remarked casually.
Gray remained silent, his gaze unwavering.
Invel sighed, gesturing dismissively. "I have business to attend to. I don't suppose you'd just move aside, would you?"
Gray scoffed, crossing his arms. "They lost. The Dragon Division's gone. Even if they weren't, you're insane if you think numbers would matter against Natsu and Gajeel."
"I suppose so," Invel admitted with a nod. He turned slightly, as though preparing to walk away. "Well then, I'll be off."
Gray's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Who said you can leave?"
Invel stopped mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder. "And what makes you think you can stop me?"
Gray's tone was sharp and demanding. "You have something to tell me, Invel Yura."
Invel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Gray's eyes gleamed momentarily with rage, though his mask hid his expression. "Where have Lucy and Wendy been taken?"
Invel narrowed his eyes, frost emanating faintly from his body. "And what makes you think I'll tell you?"
"What makes you think you have a choice?" Gray retorted, his voice edged with venom as he reached behind his back.
A sudden thud echoed through the canyon, drawing Invel's attention downward. Raze's severed head rolled to a stop at his feet.
"Interesting," Invel mused, his expression still composed. "So Raiden was right about your strength." A faint chill rippled through the air, emanating from him.
Gray cracked his knuckles, his voice icy. "Talk."
Magic swirled around them, thick with tension, but Invel was faster.
"Ice Slave!" Invel unleashed a beam of icy magic, designed to subjugate and control Gray.
But the attack was swatted aside like an annoying fly, Gray's hand batting it away with ease.
Before Invel could react, Gray's hand clamped around his throat with crushing force. Despite this, the Winter General's expression remained stoic.
Above them, a blast of lightning struck the soldiers who had begun to mobilize. Laxus stood on a nearby cliff, his right hand extended, arcs of lightning dancing around him.
"You're going to answer my questions," Gray growled, his voice distorted slightly by the mask. "Or we'll take you back and have our information specialists pick your brain clean. Hell, we'll even find out how old you were when you last pissed the bed. Got it?"
Invel glared at him, calculating his options. He exhaled a slow breath, closing his eyes briefly. Better to control what they know than let them take everything.
"Who took Lucy and Wendy?" Gray demanded.
"Raiden Volk," Invel answered, his voice clipped.
"Why did he take them?"
"He was under orders to capture Lucy Heartfilia. Wendy was not part of the plan, but I assume he took her because of her Dragon Slayer Magic."
"Where did he take them?"
"Ravenholt."
Gray's grip tightened. "What's that?"
"The main base of the Asgard Division. Cain's personal fortress."
"And where is it?"
"I don't know. It moves."
Gray's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"The fortress isn't built on land," Invel elaborated.
"So it's a ship?"
"You could say that," Invel replied with a faint smirk.
"How do we track it?"
Gray loosened his grip slightly, enough to give Invel the opening he needed.
A sudden explosion of icy magic erupted from Invel, forcing Gray to leap back.
"I'm going to break both your arms for that!" Gray snarled, his fists clenching as he scanned the area.
But Invel was gone.
"He used a Teleportation Lacrima," Laxus said, landing beside Gray. "He had no plans to stay and fight."
Gray growled, his anger simmering as he tightened his fists.
"Gray, drop the mask," Laxus instructed.
Gray blinked, realizing he still had it on. "Oh… forgot about that."
"This was the first time you used it in an actual fight, right? How long did you have it active?"
"Not long," Gray replied, removing the mask and exhaling deeply. "I think maybe half an hour? After I activated it, I took Raze down quickly. Then Lisanna told us about Invel, and I came here. Maybe an hour tops."
Laxus nodded approvingly. "You handled yourself well."
"I didn't feel much strain… probably because by the time I used it, Raze and I had already fought for nearly a day," Gray admitted.
"You must be running on fumes. Let's go. Juvia's going to bite my ear off if you're not whole," Laxus joked, clapping him on the shoulder.
Gray chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah. What about Natsu and Gajeel? Did they get back to Velmorra?"
"That's what Lisanna said. Come on, let's move."
With a flick of his hand, Laxus activated a magic circle beneath them. The runes scanned their magical signatures before glowing brightly, teleporting them away in a flash of light.
P.O.P.C
Back in Velmorra, everyone had gathered in the palace's grand dining room.
Amaris sat confidently on the throne at the head of the table, her expression serene yet calculating. Erza stood beside her, her posture rigid and alert, while Natsu paced restlessly across the room, clearly agitated.
Gray leaned casually against a pillar, his arms crossed, while Juvia perched on a nearby chair, eyes occasionally darting to him.
At the table, Laxus, Mira, Levy, Gajeel, Ultear, and the rest of their allies sat in silence, waiting for the meeting to progress.
"Status?" Natsu finally asked, breaking the tension.
Lisanna, also pacing, spoke up. "The Divisions are gone. You've all dealt with most of the mages. As far as we know, the only survivors are Sting, Minerva, and Raiden."
"I have Milianna, Jenny, and Evergreen monitoring some of the Imperial towns on Earthland," she continued. "The Empire's on high alert, and Freed and Bickslow are accompanying Hisui to rally more rebels."
Natsu nodded, acknowledging the update. "What about Ravenholt?"
Lisanna paused, her brow furrowing. "Nothing yet. We know it exists, but not where. We've tried to locate Lucy and Wendy again, but their location is well-hidden. It's like they've vanished off the map."
Ultear spoke up, her voice calm but filled with a sense of urgency. "Could Lady Amaris contact them through their dreams?"
Amaris gave a small nod, her fingers gently resting on the armrest of her throne. "I'll attempt it, but it's likely they'll have defenses in place. The Empire is aware of my authority over dreams and may have countermeasures."
"We've also learned that a ship from Alvarez is heading toward Ishgar," Lisanna added. "We tracked it to Seven, but then it disappeared off the radar."
Natsu's expression hardened. "It could have gone to Ravenholt?"
"That's my theory," Lisanna agreed.
"Any notable presence detected?" Natsu's gaze sharpened.
"None that we could sense," came the reply.
"So what's the plan?" Gray asked, crossing his arms.
"We need to find Ravenholt, get in contact with Lucy and Wendy, and figure out why they were taken," Levy added. "Let's recap our info."
Natsu scratched his chin, thinking. "Gajeel and I got nothing. We know Raiden's been called to Ravenholt." He glanced at Gajeel. "Sting gave us nothing either."
"Neither did the other Dragon Slayers," Gajeel added. "They seemed clueless about it."
"Invel said Raiden was only supposed to take Lucy, not Wendy," Gray interjected. "He also mentioned that Ravenholt is the main base of the Asgard Division—Cain's personal fortress, in fact. And that it's not on land, and it moves."
"So it could be a Lacrima-powered ship?" Ultear asked, before shaking her head. "No, it can't be that simple."
Mira spoke next, her tone thoughtful. "Considering it's called a fortress, I'd wager it's much larger than just a ship. A flying city, maybe? And since it's the Asgard Division's main base, it must house a lot of their forces."
Ultear nodded. "Back when the Balam Alliance was still around, there were rumors about Tartaros having a giant cube-like base—almost like a small planet. Nearly impossible to track. And then there's Nirvana, which was a whole walking city."
Natsu furrowed his brows. "Makes sense. It's definitely possible. The problem is… what kind of defenses and magic does the fortress have to remain completely hidden from us? It must be as defended as Vistarion—and that's excluding the members themselves."
Erza's voice was steady but firm. "What do we know about them?"
Lisanna flipped through her notes. "We've heard from Tenebrae Sususri about a few demons from Hell. Alastor and Azazel are the only two names confirmed, aside from Cain."
Natsu clicked his tongue. "Cain… he's much more powerful than I thought."
"How much more?" Erza asked, her brow raised.
Natsu exhaled sharply. "We didn't fight him directly, but he managed to send me and Gajeel flying in an instant. Gajeel had his Iron Will maxed out, and I was entering Sin Devil Trigger. We weren't at full power, but still… I'd say he's at least on the same level as Irene and August."
Gajeel growled low in his throat. "So what's the plan now?"
"Until we find Ravenholt," Natsu replied, "we get even stronger."
"Sooo, we're upping the training?" Gray asked. "Got any new ideas?"
Natsu's lips curled into a mischievous smirk—one that hadn't been seen since his younger days. "As a matter of fact, yeah."
Laxus folded his arms. "And what would that be?"
"Simple," Natsu said, cracking his knuckles. "We're gonna beat the shit out of each other."
"Based," Gajeel grinned, raising his glass. "Dibs on Sparkles."
"The fuck you want, Metal Head?" Laxus shot back with a smirk.
"To beat the shit out of you."
Laxus scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Big talk for a rust-bucket."
Gajeel slammed his drink down and grinned. "Yeah? Let's see if you can back that up, Thunder Boy."
Before the two could get into it, a folded notebook smacked Gajeel on the head—courtesy of Levy.
"Take this seriously, dummy! Plans first, destruction later!" she scolded.
"Yeah, yeah… I got it, Snips."
Levy glared.
"…Sorry, Levy."
Natsu clapped his hands together. "Now that Gajeel just got folded by his girlfriend—"
"We-we're not together!" Levy stammered, her face turning red.
Lisanna leaned forward with a smirk. "Everyone here saw you two sneaking around Velmorra. No point in denying it."
Levy looked ready to combust, while Gajeel, in contrast, seemed entirely unbothered.
"Why aren't you reacting?" Levy demanded.
Gajeel shrugged. "Natsu already pulled this stunt on me. Middle of the damn Battle Royal back in Crocus."
"Hey, hey, I was just congratulating you on your tastes," Natsu said, grinning. "Ass over boobs works fine—"
He barely dodged another flying notebook.
"ERZA! Do something about your man!" Levy shouted, mortified.
"To be fair, an ass like yours more than makes up for—" Erza added, flashing Natsu a matching grin.
"NOT YOU TOO!"
P.O.P.C
The room was a strange contrast—chilly yet strangely comforting. Moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow on the bed.
The bed was queen-sized, draped in a plush red fur blanket with large pillows piled at the head. In front of it lay a massive fur carpet. To the left of the bed was a large window, with a desk positioned beneath it. Pens, books, and scattered papers cluttered the surface, and an extremely comfortable chair sat in front of it.
On the right side of the room was a dresser, overflowing with dresses, cute clothing, jewelry, and all kinds of shoes. The room was everything she had when she was young, back when she was still with her father and mother.
It was impeccable, nearly perfect. And that was exactly why Lucy hated it.
She tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. This was her first night in Ravenholt.
Raiden had dragged her and Wendy back to their rooms, forcing them to wear those damn necklaces. After he left, servants arrived with dinner, filling the rooms with an abundance of clothes and all sorts of things.
But Lucy couldn't sleep. Wendy, in the room next door, was already curled up in bed, fast asleep under the blankets. Her room, on the other hand, looked like a disaster zone, thanks to the tantrum she'd thrown earlier. Wendy had tried using her Dragon Slayer magic to break out, but the necklace suppressed her power, and the building itself was nearly indestructible. Still, the little Dragon Slayer hadn't stopped until her magic had run dry, at which point Lucy had placed her in bed.
The order Raiden gave kept Lucy from staying with Wendy or even taking her to her room.
Lucy buried her face in her hands, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "This is awful."
She sat up in bed, pulling her knees to her chest, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer some form of relief or answer. The moonlight streaming through the blinds felt almost mocking, its calm, peaceful glow at odds with the chaos swirling in her mind. It was hard to reconcile the tranquility of the room with the overwhelming sense of helplessness consuming her.
She could hear Wendy's steady breathing through the thin walls—calm, unaware, and completely at peace. It should've been comforting, but instead, it only reminded Lucy of how trapped they both were. How powerless they were.
Her fingers traced the cold surface of the necklace around her neck, its weight much heavier than it appeared. It pulsed faintly, a constant reminder that they weren't free to leave. Not that they had any real chance of escaping anyway—not with the fortress of Ravenholt standing like an immovable mountain around them.
The fortress felt suffocating, its oppressive presence pressing in on her from all sides. She had tried to calculate her way out, to strategize, to find some kind of weakness—but all her plans crumbled the moment she realized escaping this place wasn't a matter of will or strength. It was a matter of being trapped in a web with no way out.
Her gaze drifted toward the window, her eyes scanning the dark landscape outside. The moon was high, casting long shadows across the distant horizon. Beyond those walls, there was nothing. No one to hear her, no one to rescue them.
"The moon," her eyes widened slightly, "Night... Dreams... Amaris? Could it work?" Lucy whispered to herself, the faintest spark of hope flickering within her. "I... I need to sleep."
She fell back on the bed, her breath slowing as she tried to calm herself. "Sleep... sleep... sleep... and dream," she whispered repeatedly, grounding herself in the rhythmic cadence of her words.
At first, it was just sleep. But then, something else—something more—began to stir. Not just sleep, but a presence, subtle and unexplainable, as though it was calling to her.
And with that, Lucy surrendered to it, allowing herself to fall asleep, following that quiet pull, wherever it might lead.
P.O.P.C
"Hello?" Lucy called out into the dark void. "Amaris? Natsu? Anyone?"
"Lucy," a voice replied, soft yet resonant.
Amaris materialized before her, the Goddess's appearance one that Lucy knew well. Her voluptuous figure, draped in a long, dark purple dress that accentuated her curves, was an ethereal sight. Her long hair flowed around her, deep midnight blue at the roots, fading into night black and soft silver tips. Her Galaxy Irises glowed softly, casting a faint light that made her form appear almost divine. Amaris was gigantic, holding Lucy gently in the palm of her hand, her smile kind and reassuring.
"Are you well?" the Goddess asked.
"We're okay for now," Lucy replied. "We've been taken to Ravenholt. Raiden's keeping us in a private apartment."
"And the necklace?" Amaris inquired.
"Raiden forced us to wear them… after we tried to break out for the fourth time."
"Atta girl," Amaris chuckled, her voice laced with approval. "What can you tell me about where you are?"
Lucy shook her head. "It's... unreal. It's a massive flying island with a palace on it, and there are dozens of smaller islands surrounding it. We haven't seen much of the palace; we were caught every time we tried to explore."
"And Wendy? How is she?" Amaris asked, her tone gentle.
"Asleep. Exhausted. After Raiden used the necklace to command her to go to her room, she tried to break the walls with her Dragon Slayer Magic. But the necklace restricts her power, and the building itself is incredibly durable, so she exhausted all her magic and fell asleep."
Amaris nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I will slowly form a link through your dreams so we can get a better sense of your location. Do you know what the Empire wants with you?"
Lucy hesitated before answering. "I got Raiden to tell me some things. He found it amusing that I was trying to get information out of him, so he spoke. He said they want to speed up the unsealing of the Demon Realm and control it. They need to get into the Celestial Spirit Realm because it has Space-Time Magic and Primordial Magic. They want to use it as a substitute for the Yamato."
Amaris's eyes darkened slightly. "Yes… the Yamato's previous form was used in the sealing. It's practically the biggest and most important key to the seal."
Lucy's mind raced. "So that means they're not confident enough to try to take Natsu's power directly, right?"
Amaris nodded solemnly. "The Yamato would likely not respond to anyone else. They would simply not be able to access the necessary level of Space-Time Manipulation without it."
"They'll most likely try to brainwash me," Lucy added grimly. "I'm not going to open the gates of my own accord."
"I know that," Amaris replied. "I'm going to do what I can to shield your mind and soul from their magic, but it's already proving difficult to make contact. Ravenholt seems to be shrouded in a Primordial Magic Barrier."
Lucy's gaze hardened with resolve. "We're preparing for the battle, then."
Amaris gave a small, reassuring smile. "Yes. We are. I'll be with you, Lucy. Just stay strong."
Lucy nodded firmly. "I'll try to get as much information as I can."
P.O.P.C
Erza sat on the edge of Velmorra, her legs dangling over the abyss. Beneath her, a cosmic river of crystal-clear water flowed, cascading from the waterfalls and forming immense rivers that circled the massive island. The barriers surrounding the realm gave her a breathtaking view of Earthland and its moon, distant yet vivid against the void of space. Far beyond, she could even see the sun, its golden radiance stretching across the celestial expanse.
A soft smile touched her lips. That massive star reminded her of her own mischievous 'sun'—the one who shined so brightly in her life.
She felt a shift in the air. From beneath the island, a blur emerged, gliding effortlessly over the rivers, skimming the surface of the water before ascending toward her.
Erza's smile widened, and she opened her arms playfully. "Hello~"
Natsu slowed his flight, his black wings flaring slightly as he came to hover in front of her. His hands found purchase on the ledge beside her, bracketing her in. With a soft hum, Erza reached out, her delicate hands cradling his face before she pulled him into a gentle kiss.
"Hello, love," Natsu murmured, pressing a soft peck to her forehead before settling beside her. His presence was warm, comforting. "Are you all right?"
"I am… just thinking."
"About what?" he asked, brushing a loose strand of her crimson hair past her ear. As he pulled his hand away, a rose suddenly appeared between his fingers. He winked, twirling the flower before offering it to her. "For you."
Erza giggled, taking the rose. "You flirt."
"I aim to please," he teased, giving a mock bow, his left wing curling around her protectively.
"Fluffy."
"Oh? Would you like more?" he mused, tilting his head. "I could summon all my wings."
Before she could respond, two more pairs of wings unfurled from his back—identical to his original black feathered wings, their silver-tipped edges shimmering under the starlight.
Erza leaned into his shoulder, idly spinning the rose between her fingers. "You're not exactly disproving those 'incubus' allegations, my dear."
Natsu laughed, the sound deep and rich. "Well, if both a Dragoness and a Goddess believe it to be true, then who am I to argue?" He smirked, but his voice softened as he tilted his head to look at her. "But enough about me, love. What about you? Do you want to talk about your battle?"
Erza let out a long sigh. "It's… confusing."
Natsu's gaze sharpened. "...Jellal?"
"No." She shook her head, her voice steady. "I don't care about him. He had his second chance, and he blew it. He's not worth our time, nor my sympathy." She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the rose. "It's about Raiden… what he said."
Natsu's expression darkened slightly. "What did he say?"
Erza exhaled slowly. "...He claimed to be my brother. He called me 'Little Sister.'"
At that, Natsu's eyes flickered with surprise, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"I asked Lisanna about him," Erza went on, her voice growing more measured. "The records say he's known as the son of Irene Belserion. And we both know who she's supposed to be." She turned to meet Natsu's gaze, searching for his reaction. "If what he said is true… that all but confirms it. Irene Belserion is my mother."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the weight of the revelation settling in the air.
Natsu finally spoke, his voice thoughtful. "Hmm… The part about Irene being your mother? I think that could be true." His wings shifted slightly, adjusting against the breeze. "Bayle called you a Belserion back when we first fought him. And when I went to Alvarez… I didn't pay much attention at the time. I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind." His voice dipped slightly, the memory clearly not a pleasant one. "But her appearance… it matches yours. Before you got your own Dragon Power—the same brown eyes, the same scarlet hair. She looked just like you… just older."
Erza's fingers absently twisted the stem of the rose, her thoughts a whirlwind of contradictions. She had never known anything about her biological family. Fairy Tail—Natsu—was the only family she had ever truly needed.
But now—this truth. A confirmation of something that had always been a whisper at the back of her mind.
What did it mean? What did she want it to mean?
Finally, Erza let out a quiet breath. "I don't know what to do with this, Natsu." Her voice was softer now, stripped of its usual steel. "I've never needed to know who my parents were. I never let it define me before. So why does it feel so… heavy now?"
Natsu tilted his head, considering. "It's a hard feeling… finding lost family… then realizing you're on opposite sides. It's a lot."
She glanced at him, knowing he spoke from experience. "Did you feel the same when your memories came back? When you saw Zeref?"
"Yeah… similar," he admitted, his gaze distant for a moment. "But I was more angry about what he did in the past."
Erza sighed softly. "You had a past with him. My problem isn't as big as yours."
"Hey." He reached out, lightly turning her face toward him, his touch warm and grounding. "Don't belittle your own feelings just because mine were different. You matter to me. Everything about you matters to me, my love."
Erza smiled, her heart easing just slightly. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You and your way with words… I love you, dear."
She exhaled, her expression growing serious again. "If Raiden really is my brother… if Irene is really my mother… then why?" Her grip on the rose tightened, thorns pressing into her palm, but she didn't seem to notice. "Why did she abandon me? Why am I only hearing this now?"
Natsu frowned, his sharp eyes catching the way her fingers trembled. Gently, he reached out, prying the rose from her grip before she could hurt herself. "That's not something you should be asking yourself, Erza. That's something they should have to answer."
Erza blinked at him, surprised by the quiet intensity in his voice.
He rolled the rose between his fingers before tucking it carefully behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment. "No matter what, you're still you. Erza Scarlet or Erza Belserion. My Erza."
Something in her chest eased, just slightly. She leaned into his warmth, resting her head against his shoulder as the cosmic river shimmered below them.
"Thank you, Natsu."
"Always."
Soft, warm hands enveloped them both, a gentle yet undeniable presence.
"Well, I think 'Erza Dragneel' has a much better ring to it than either of those. Don't you agree, sugar?" A sultry voice purred beside them.
Erza turned just as Amaris cupped her face, tilting her chin up with a teasing slowness before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek.
"Hey, Amaris," Erza greeted, her voice carrying a newfound lightness.
The Goddess winked before shifting her attention to Natsu. With playful boldness, she grabbed his face, her fingers tracing his jaw before pulling him into a kiss—this one rougher, more mischievous.
"Someone's excited," Natsu smirked, eyes gleaming. With a swift flick of his wings, he flipped Amaris over, catching her effortlessly in his lap.
Amaris only laughed, completely unbothered, her arms draping over his shoulders. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in toward Erza again, this time brushing a kiss against her lips—soft but lingering, a silent promise wrapped in warmth.
"We're with you, dear Erza," Amaris murmured, her voice silk and certainty. "Don't ever forget that."
Erza chuckled, warmth blooming in her chest as she laced her fingers through Amaris's, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I won't."
Amaris smiled, her expression softening before she leaned into Natsu's neck, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath his jaw. "I spoke with Lucy."
Natsu's gaze sharpened. "The Dreamscape worked? Perfect. How are they?"
"They're unharmed, but…" Amaris's tone darkened slightly. "Raiden forced them to wear enchanted necklaces—tracking devices that can also enforce commands. Wendy tried to break free until she exhausted herself. Lucy had to put her to sleep to stop her from hurting herself."
Erza's expression hardened. "Damn him."
"That's not all," Amaris continued, her voice edged with concern. "Lucy managed to get some information out of Raiden. They're after the Celestial Spirit Realm."
Natsu frowned. "The Celestial Spirit Realm? What for?"
"They want to use it as a substitute for the Yamato."
Erza's brows furrowed. "How would that even work? We figured they'd be after something in the Demon Realm, but the Yamato is supposed to be irreplaceable, right?"
"Yes," Amaris confirmed, her voice laced with concern. "But the Celestial Spirit Realm contains both Space-Time Magic and traces of Primordial Magic. According to what Raiden told Lucy, Cain and Zeref believe they can manipulate and enhance that power, shaping it into a replacement for the Yamato—since they can't get it from Natsu."
Natsu's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "So they're desperate… but I don't get it. Why? Why are they so hell-bent on getting into the Demon Realm? Cain and the other demons just got out seven years ago. What could Zeref possibly want by opening the Demon Realm again?"
Erza's voice was tight with suspicion. "Something doesn't add up. Zeref has to have a reason. He's been playing this game for over 400 years."
Natsu nodded gravely. "Ever since he and Acnologia attacked Igneel…" His eyes turned towards Earthland, his thoughts a heavy weight on his mind. "Speaking of him…"
He let the words trail off as he stared into the distance.
"Where the hell IS Acnologia?"
P.O.P.C
Black wings beat the sky, a massive form of pitch-black scales adorned with blue markings blurring through the air.
In this apocalyptic world, it seemed the Black Dragon of the Apocalypse had finally revealed himself.
But where, exactly, was Acnologia heading?
"Such chaos… from ones so young," he mused, his voice echoing like thunder. "Five thieves... yet four true Dragons battle upon the earth. The Son of Skiadrum, the Son of Metalicana… and the Son of the White Dragon? Weisslogia hath granted one his power? Intriguing... Yet, if Igneel did so as well, could Weisslogia have chosen a monster of his own, as Igneel hast?"
He paused, sensing the air shift with a familiar presence.
"Speaking of which… I sense thee, Natsu Dragneel. Thou art the first to wound me in four hundred years. Thy power hath risen to unimaginable scales, young one… and to think, thou hast barely begun to fight."
Acnologia's voice rumbled, a dark, unsettling presence hanging in the air as he continued.
"Thou hast escaped me seven years ago… but I shall have my fight, Silver-Eyed."
His wings beat faster, and his form picked up speed. But then, something caught his attention. He halted, a beam of crimson fire descending from the sky, barely meters away from where Acnologia would have been.
"You?!" he snarled.
A man floated down towards him, golden eyes gleaming with malice, a wicked grin stretched across his face, filled with contempt. His dark orange hair whipped in the wind.
"Yo," the man mocked. "Going somewhere?"
Acnologia growled, his eyes flashing. "Thy dare impede my hunt?!"
The man repeated in a high-pitched, mocking tone, "'Thy dare impede my hunt?!' Oh, fuck off! Get your black-scaled ass back to whatever nasty hole ye crawled out of, ya bitch."
Acnologia roared, his anger rising. "Ye dare mock me, Dragon of Destruction?! I shall slay thee here and now, Ignia!"
Ignia, undeterred, mocked the roar with exaggerated theatricality. "'I shall slay thee here and now!' Oh, wow, how scary. Now back the fuck up, Scales. It's not time for the show."
Acnologia's eyes blazed with fury. "I decide when the war starts!"
Ignia tched, his grin never fading. "No, no you don't," he retorted, crossing his arms. "You're just trying to get rid of those that could rise to the same level we have. Zeref's been clawing his way into our league ever since his empire took over, and you can't deny it, no matter how much you despise your old pal."
Ignia's grin widened. "And who knows what Zeref's got planned for Weisslogia's kid?"
Acnologia's eyes narrowed, but Ignia wasn't finished.
"You got scared, Natsu spooked you, and now you're trying to get rid of them before they grow to challenge you. 'Cause the truth is, you're not the top alpha anymore."
Acnologia's jaw tightened, his massive wings flaring with an almost deafening snap as the air around them trembled with his fury.
"Thy words are meaningless, Ignia," he growled. "Thy attempt to provoke me shall be thy undoing."
Ignia chuckled, unfazed, as he lazily floated in the air, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I've hit a nerve, haven't I?" His grin twisted into something more predatory. "It's all right, Scales. I get it. You've been the Great Dragon of Apocalypse for far too long, haven't you? But now, Natsu's here, growing stronger every day, and you can feel that, can't you? He's becoming a real threat."
Acnologia's eyes flared with a fire that matched the fury in his voice. "Natsu is but a whelp compared to my power! He cannot hope to challenge me!"
Ignia's voice, colder and more cutting, sliced through the tension. "Could've said the same about you, didn't they? After all, you weren't born with that power, were you? You stole it… the power that once belonged to Bayle."
Acnologia's nostrils flared, his scales shimmering with rage. "I have made it my own!"
Ignia nodded slowly, his grin widening with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I'll give you credit for that. But the point is… you were a fucking nobody. A human. And now you've become this... But you know it's possible for others to reach this level, don't you? The fact that it's already happening, barely 400 years after you did it, terrifies you. All this thy and thou crap, and yet, you're just a brat of a Dragon, aren't you? Not even a thousand years old…"
Acnologia's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Age has nothing to do—"
Ignia cut him off with a sharp, mocking laugh. "Exactly. Age got nothing to do with it. The world is on high alert, and the shitshow from 400 years ago—the one that made you and Zeref—doesn't even compare to what's coming."
Acnologia growled, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated the air. Ignia's grin only deepened, unfazed by the dragon's fury.
"I'd be glad to tear you limb from limb," Ignia said with a sickening smile, "Natsu's not the only one pissed about the old man's death. It'd be personal for me too. But I'd much prefer to wait for the war."
Acnologia's fury boiled over. His massive chest expanded, the air around him cracking with power as he roared, "Thou dost not understand! I decide when the war begins!" The Black Dragon's body began to ripple with dark, swirling magic, energy pulsing in his chest like a storm ready to unleash.
Ignia's grin never faltered as he leaned back, mocking Acnologia's posturing. "Is that so?" He puffed his chest out, a taunting challenge hanging in the air. Then, in a split second, both dragons opened their mouths wide, unleashing their full fury.
"Apocalypse Dragon King's Roar!" A beam of raw, apocalyptic dark blue energy erupted from Acnologia's maw, tearing through the air with an unrelenting force.
"Destruction Dragon Monarch's Roar!" In perfect unison, Ignia countered with his own devastating roar, a torrent of raw, destructive dark red energy crashing forth with equal ferocity.
The two beams collided, creating an explosion that shook the very heavens. The surrounding air crackled with the raw force of their power, distorting the atmosphere in a shockwave that rippled out, rattling everything in its path.
The world held its breath as the two dragons stared each other down, their roars still echoing in the aftermath of their cataclysmic clash.
P.O.P.C
A hooded man gazed down at the projection of Earthland, his eyes drinking in every moment—the curses placed upon Alvarez by Natsu, the battle between Dragon Slayers, and the confrontation between Ignia and Acnologia.
And he laughed.
His amused chuckle echoed through the dark chamber, a sound both sinister and intrigued. Dressed in pitch-black clothing, strands of long dark hair, streaked with gray, slipped from beneath his hood. His hands were locked together, elbows resting on the armrests of his throne, his chin balanced against his knuckles. Tattoos stretched from his fingers, winding up his arms and disappearing beneath his garments, reaching as far as his neck.
"How interesting… Acnologia finally makes his move, and Ignia chooses to stop him?" His voice carried a smooth, calculating tone. "So, the Dragon God wants the events on Ishgar to play out? I suppose… Ignia would want his younger brother to reach his level."
His attention shifted toward the projection of Alvarez. A smirk tugged at his lips.
"And the curses placed on Alvarez… they seem to be crumbling. Not much time left… but Zeref will need to heal his forces before retaliating." He chuckled again, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's see... Metalicana's son, Belserion's daughter, Blitzgor's heir…" His grin widened. "These three already possess immense power… and now Natsu and his goddess seek to elevate them even further? To mold them into beings of the same level and existence as Natsu himself?"
A low, intrigued hum left his lips. "Interesting. Such anomalies will no doubt bring… delectable chaos."
His gaze flickered back to the others shown in the projection. "The others possess potential as well, but not to the same degree." He leaned back slightly. "Still, potential is a dangerous thing in the right hands."
Then, a thought made his smirk return. "And Cain and Zeref's scheme… how very intriguing. Oh, I do believe this shall shake Earthland—especially Natsu—should it succeed."
Rising from his throne, he folded his arms behind his back, his train of thought momentarily pausing.
"So much entertainment," he mused aloud for the first time.
With slow, deliberate steps, he turned and disappeared into the darkness. And for a fleeting moment—just before he was fully consumed by shadow—his eyes flared.
Eyes of Silver.
"Yes, I do believe this should do."
P.O.P.C
Sting groaned as the morning light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the infirmary bed. His body ached. His ribs burned. His eyes snapped open, and he instinctively jolted upright—only for sharp pain to lance through his torso.
"Argh—" He clutched his bandaged ribs, feeling the dried blood against his fingertips. His body was wrapped in fresh wrappings, though some were still stained crimson.
"What… what happened?" he muttered to no one in particular, his mind foggy and disoriented.
"You were defeated," came a calm, almost friendly voice.
Sting's gaze shot toward the source.
Cain sat in a chair at the bedside, watching him with an unreadable expression. His posture was relaxed, yet there was something calculated in the way he observed Sting.
Sting's eyes widened. "L-Lord Cain." He tried to force himself up, struggling to bow despite the pain, but Cain lifted a hand.
"Do not move, child. You are far from healed."
Sting hesitated, then slumped back against the bed, panting. His mind raced, trying to piece together his last memories.
"W-what happened? Why am I here?"
Cain regarded him with a measured look before answering.
"You fought Natsu Dragneel."
The words hit like a sledgehammer. And then, memories came flooding back. Rogue—falling. His own body breaking under the weight of Natsu's power. The desperate activation of Duel Mode—and still losing.
His breathing grew heavier. "Where's Rogue?"
Cain didn't respond immediately.
Sting's chest tightened. "Where is Rogue? And the others?"
Cain finally met his gaze, his voice steady. "They are dead. All of them."
A cold, suffocating silence filled the room.
"What?" Sting's voice cracked. "N-no, that can't be—"
"It is." Cain inwardly smiled at the sight of the boy's trembling hands. "After you fell to Natsu… Rogue attempted to fight him. But Natsu simply erased him. Not even a body remained—just ashes in the wind."
Sting shook his head violently, his breath quickening. "No—no, Rogue wouldn't—"
"And the others? Darius, Lumin, Kara, Sylvia, Kaden…" Cain let out a mock sigh, shaking his head. "They were slaughtered by Gajeel."
Sting's stomach twisted violently.
"They were mutilated beyond recognition," Cain continued, his tone laced with just enough sorrow to sound genuine. "We had to burn their remains."
Sting's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. His entire body trembled, not just from pain—but from the overwhelming surge of emotions crashing through him.
Rogue. Darius. Lumin. Kara. Sylvia. Kaden.
Gone.
Tears welled in his eyes, but beneath the grief, something darker began to fester.
Hate.
Cain leaned back slightly, watching as the seed took root.
"Only you survived," he murmured, letting the weight of those words settle over Sting like a suffocating shroud.
And as Sting sat there, his body wracked with pain and loss, his grief twisted into something else entirely.
Something Cain could use.
Sting sat frozen, his breath shallow. His mind screamed at him to deny it, to call Cain a liar—but the way his body trembled betrayed the truth his heart already knew.
They were gone.
Rogue. His partner. His brother.
Darius, Lumin, Kara, Sylvia, Kaden—his comrades. His fellow Dragon Slayers.
Dead.
His stomach twisted, nausea rising in his throat. His fingers dug into the sheets, his nails biting into his own skin.
"It's not… possible," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Cain observed him carefully, his sharp silver eyes drinking in every flicker of emotion. He had seen it before—the moment grief twisted into something useful.
Hate.
Cain stood, walking to the window, gazing out at the vast city below. His voice was almost wistful as he spoke.
"You are not to blame, Sting. No one could have expected Natsu Dragneel to become such a monster." He sighed, shaking his head. "But it is the truth. Your friends are gone. Your division is shattered. And the man responsible walks free—stronger than ever."
Sting gritted his teeth.
Cain turned back, his expression somber. "They were warriors, just like you. They fought bravely, but in the end, it wasn't enough. And now…" He gestured around the empty infirmary. "Here you are. Alive. Alone."
Alone.
The word sent a dagger through Sting's heart.
He clenched his fists. "I should have died with them."
Cain's expression darkened. "No. That would have been a waste."
Sting's head snapped up, startled by the sharpness in his tone.
"You survived for a reason, Sting," Cain said, his voice calm but firm. "Do you think fate is so cruel as to leave you alive just to suffer? No… it has given you a gift. A chance."
Sting swallowed thickly. "A chance…?"
Cain smiled ever so slightly. "A chance to make them pay."
A cold silence stretched between them.
Cain slowly stepped forward, his presence towering over Sting's weakened form. "Natsu Dragneel. Gajeel Redfox. The ones who stole everything from you. Do you intend to let them go unpunished?"
Sting's breathing was ragged now, his nails digging so deep into his palms they nearly drew blood. His body trembled—not with grief anymore, but with something else.
Rage.
Cain saw it. He felt it. He welcomed it.
"You don't have to answer now," Cain continued smoothly. "But when the time comes… when you are ready to make them suffer as you have suffered…"
He placed a hand on Sting's shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"I will be here."
With that, Cain turned, walking toward the door.
As he reached the threshold, he paused. "Rest, Sting. Gather your strength. Remember this rage. Remember the hate. Because you will need it."
And with a whisper of his cloak, he was gone, leaving Sting alone in the suffocating silence—his grief drowning beneath the boiling storm of vengeance.
P.O.P.C
Yukino stepped carefully, her usual gentle presence feeling almost fragile in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The faint scent of medicine and bandages clung to the air, but beneath it, she could almost sense something else—something dangerous.
She stopped beside the bed, her hands clasped together. "Sting?" she called again, softer this time.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers.
The warmth that once lived in his sky-blue eyes was gone. In its place burned something cold, something sharp—something wrong.
Yukino's heart clenched.
She had seen grief before, but this… this was something different.
She swallowed. "How are you feeling?"
Sting scoffed, a bitter sound escaping his lips. "How do you think?" His voice was hoarse, hollow.
She lowered her gaze, fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeves. "I heard what happened…" she murmured. "About… Rogue. The others."
Sting flinched, his jaw clenching. His fists tightened in his lap. "They're dead." His voice was flat, but the barely restrained fury beneath it made her shiver.
Yukino hesitated, then slowly reached out, placing her hand over his clenched fist. His body tensed at the touch, but he didn't pull away.
"You're not alone, Sting," she said softly. "I know it feels like it right now, but you still have people who care about you. You still have me."
For a moment, silence.
Then, Sting exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Care?" he repeated, voice tinged with something bitter. He let out a hollow laugh. "Caring doesn't bring them back, Yukino. It doesn't fix anything."
Yukino tightened her grip. "No, it doesn't," she admitted. "But carelessly throwing yourself into revenge will only kill you too."
Sting's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together. "And what if that's what I want?" he muttered, his voice low, dangerous.
Yukino's breath hitched. "Don't say that," she whispered.
"Why not?" Sting snapped, his gaze finally meeting hers. His eyes were raw with fury and grief, a storm raging behind them. "What else is left for me, Yukino? My best friend, my team—my family—they're gone! And the ones responsible are still out there, walking free!"
Yukino refused to look away. "And if you go after them like this, you'll die too."
Sting scoffed. "At least I'll take them with me."
Yukino's grip on his hand tightened. "And then what?!" she pleaded. "Do you think that's what Rogue would have wanted? For you to throw your life away like this?"
Something in Sting's expression faltered. A flicker of pain, of doubt.
But it was gone in an instant, replaced by cold resolve. He pulled his hand away from hers, his fingers curling into a fist. "You don't understand," he muttered.
"Then help me understand," Yukino urged.
Sting let out a slow breath, his shoulders trembling. "I can't just sit here and do nothing," he admitted, voice thick with emotion. "I won't."
Yukino's heart clenched, but she knew she couldn't reach him—not like this.
Not yet.
She took a step back, her gaze never leaving his. "Then promise me one thing," she said.
Sting looked up, wary.
"Don't let Cain turn you into something you're not," she whispered. "Because that is a path I cannot follow you on."
Sting didn't answer.
And that silence told her everything.
She turned around and walked away, stopping at the door.
"Does my love for you not matter?"
Sting remained silent.
Yukino closed her eyes and walked out.
The door clicked shut behind her, and with it, something inside Sting felt like it was breaking apart.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His heart pounded, his chest aching in ways he didn't know how to describe.
"Does my love for you not matter?"
The words echoed in his mind, louder than the grief, louder than the rage.
But he didn't stop her.
He couldn't.
Because if he did—if he let himself hold onto her—he might hesitate. And hesitation was something he couldn't afford.
Not now. Not after everything.
So he sat there in silence, staring at the spot where she had stood, until the weight of her absence became unbearable.
P.O.P.C
Lucy walked out of her room still in her pajamas and headed to the apartment's kitchen. To her annoyance, Raiden was there, coffee in hand, reading some reports with interest and amusement.
"Good morning, Lucy," he said, not even bothering to look up.
Lucy glared at him. "Nothing good about this."
Raiden smirked. "Coffee?"
"Is it drugged?"
"I have no intention of having my way with you, and if I did, I wouldn't need drugs." He took a sip from the mug and pushed it toward her seat.
"What are you reading?" Lucy asked. Raiden looked at her, his dark blue hair pulled back, his sharp storm-grey eyes locking onto hers.
"Fishing for information?"
Lucy didn't respond, and Raiden chuckled. "The Battle at Crocus ended yesterday. Sting is the only survivor."
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Did you expect them to actually take down Natsu?"
Raiden smirked, setting his coffee cup down and leaning back in his chair, still watching Lucy with an unreadable expression. "Expect? No. But I can't deny I find it... fascinating." He tapped the papers with his fingers. "How quickly things can spiral out of control when emotions get involved."
Lucy folded her arms, her gaze hardening. "You sound like you enjoy it."
Raiden's lips twitched, almost in a smile. "I find the chaos... entertaining," he admitted, his tone laced with something dark and amused. "But I also find it useful."
Lucy's eyes flashed with suspicion. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, leaning forward to pour himself more coffee. "Oh, it's just a matter of time before the pieces fall into place. Zeref's schemes are unraveling, and new players are entering the game. Don't you feel it, Lucy? The shift in the air?"
Lucy's grip on the counter tightened. "You sound like you already have a plan in motion. What's your angle?"
Raiden's storm-grey eyes flicked over to her, a spark of amusement dancing in them. "My angle? I'm just an observer, Lucy. Watching as everything burns. And maybe... making sure it burns in a way that benefits me." He raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know what happens next?"
Lucy bit back her retort, but she wasn't naive enough to trust him. "You're playing a dangerous game."
Raiden's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Dangerous games are the only ones worth playing."
He sipped his coffee again, watching her carefully. "But I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you, Lucy?"
"What about you, Lucy? How do you feel knowing your friends decimated hundreds of miles of land and even killed people? This right here says Natsu killed Rogue and thousands of soldiers as collateral, with the rest being killed by Gajeel? Even the Second Generation Dragon Slayers?"
Her mind raced as Raiden's words sank in, but Lucy's expression remained unreadable, even as his sharp gaze seemed to pierce through her.
"You really enjoy this, don't you?" she muttered, trying to steady her breathing. "Twisting everything—"
"I'm not twisting anything," Raiden cut in, his voice calm and unbothered. "I'm not even calling what they did wrong. They had their reasons."
"Then what's your point?" Lucy snapped, feeling a familiar heat rise in her chest.
Raiden leaned back in his chair, studying her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. "I just want to know your opinion. We all know Natsu, Gray, Gajeel, Erza, Laxus, and the rest of them long since abandoned the idea of being heroes. What about you, Lucy? Do you fight for everyone? Only for yourself? Or just for the few you call friends and family?"
Lucy's jaw tightened. She knew exactly what he was getting at, but she wasn't about to let him manipulate her thoughts.
"For my friends and family," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.
Raiden's eyes glinted as he tilted his head, unfazed by her response. "And what about the lives destroyed in the process?"
Lucy hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. She wasn't about to let Raiden use his words to make her question her convictions.
"What about the lives your empire destroyed?" she shot back, her tone biting. "How many innocents have fallen because of your ambition?"
Raiden's smile twisted into something sharper, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in slightly. "A good answer, truly. We're the 'worst,' aren't we?"
Lucy's grip on the counter tightened, her knuckles whitening as her fury simmered beneath the surface. "Then why fight for the empire?" she asked, her voice quieter, but the raw edge of anger still clear.
Raiden mirrored her posture, leaning in just a fraction, his tone shifting into something more probing, more dangerous. "Then why fight for the empire?" he repeated, almost savoring her discomfort. "Tell me, Lucy... do you think that if you had been born in Alvarez, you'd still hold the same values? Do you think if you had joined a different guild, you'd be the same person? What if Fairy Tail had been a Dark Guild back when it still existed? Do you think you'd still have those same values?"
Lucy froze for a heartbeat, the weight of his words sinking deeper than she cared to admit. Her mind raced, flickering through possibilities—what if she had been born into a different life? What if she had chosen a different path? Would she still be standing here, arguing for the same ideals?
Raiden watched her, reading her silence before speaking again. His voice was calm, measured, as if explaining something inevitable.
"What I'm trying to say, Lucy, is that not everything is black and white. Your friends understand this—Natsu especially. He draws power from that very understanding. Would you call the curses he placed on Alvarez righteous? Strategically, it was the best move he could make. Morally?" He tilted his head. "Was it really?"
She didn't respond, so he continued.
"Good and evil are just two sides of the same coin. I think you understand that. What one person sees as good, another sees as evil. And the closer you get to the truth, the more you realize that neither is absolutely right or wrong. They simply are."
He let the words settle before answering her question.
"Why do I fight for the empire? Because it is what I know. I have been part of it for as long as I can remember. It shaped me. It gave me purpose."
Lucy's eyes narrowed, and this time, her words came sharp and unwavering.
"But is that what you want? To serve? Is that all you ever aspired to? To be strong just so someone else can use your power?"
Raiden's expression remained unreadable, but she pressed on, stepping closer.
"We fight for each other, yes—but our power is our own. Natsu's power is his. Erza's power is hers. Gray's, Gajeel's—mine. No one commands it but us. We don't fight for each other because we're forced to. We don't fight for each other because it's expected of us." She met his gaze head-on, her voice steady.
"We do it because we choose to."
For the first time, Raiden's smirk faded ever so slightly. His storm-grey eyes studied her, searching, as if measuring the weight of her conviction.
Then, after a moment, he chuckled. Low. Amused. But there was something different in it this time.
"You really are something, Lucy," he murmured. "But tell me… when the time comes, when the weight of your choices bears down on you, will you still stand by those words?"
Lucy didn't flinch.
"Yes. And it will be my choice, not the will of another."
The two fell into silence, each sipping their coffee, the quiet tension between them thickening.
Raiden finally broke it, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "You are… far from the entitled rich girl I expected."
Lucy raised an eyebrow, keeping her gaze steady. "And what exactly were you expecting?"
Raiden smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Someone who believes the world owes her something. Someone who'd crumble the second things got hard."
Lucy's lips curled into a faint, almost bitter smile. "I don't crumble."
Raiden studied her for a moment, his eyes flicking over her features with something like amusement. "No. You don't. But I'm curious… Where does that strength come from?"
Lucy didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took another sip of her coffee, savoring the warmth before responding. "It comes from knowing that the world doesn't owe me anything. But that doesn't mean I'll just sit back and let it take everything from me, either."
Raiden chuckled, a low, almost approving sound. "I see. So you're a fighter after all."
Lucy's gaze didn't waver. "Always."
P.O.P.C
In the other room, Wendy's bed was disturbed as a head of blue hair emerged, her blanket wrapped tightly around her small frame. She glared around the room, eyes narrowing at the destruction.
"Hm," Wendy muttered under her breath as she jumped from the bed, surveying the mess. Her eyes darted toward the kitchen, where she heard Lucy's voice, mingling with the unmistakable tone of Raiden.
"Grrr," she growled softly, her irritation building. She grabbed the nearest object—an old chair leg—and quickly enveloped it in sharp, fast-moving wind. Taking a few measured steps back from the door, she readied herself.
With a swift motion, she dashed forward, her movements fluid and precise.
"HYA!" Wendy shouted as she kicked the door open with a fierce force, the wood splintering upon impact. Without hesitation, she raised the chair leg high above her head, a determined look crossing her face.
"HYAAA!" Wendy shouted again, pouring all her strength into the strike aimed directly at Raiden's head.
Raiden, however, wasn't surprised. He had heard Wendy's approach long before she'd shattered the door. With a slow, deliberate motion, he extended his finger and tapped Wendy's nose, stopping her momentum without inflicting harm.
She stumbled backward, landing on her backside. The chair leg dropped from her hand, and she instinctively reached up to her face, checking for any signs of damage.
After a brief moment of panic, she found no blood. Still, she glared at Raiden, her expression comically exaggerated as she let out a low growl, the Dragon within her enraged at being treated so casually.
"Nice try, little one," Raiden mused, his voice dripping with amusement.
Wendy's growl deepened, a fierce, determined sound as she stared him down. "Grrrrr…"
Raiden leaned toward her, his posture subtly shifting. Then, he let out a growl of his own—low and menacing, a sound that seemed to reverberate with power.
"Grrrrrr…"
Despite the intimidating rumble of his voice, Wendy didn't flinch. Her resolve held strong, and she leaned forward, baring her teeth, ready to leap at him, her growl rising in pitch as she refused to be intimidated.
Raiden's storm-grey eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched Wendy's determination. His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. He knew the Dragon Slayer wouldn't back down, not that easily.
But before either of them could make a move, Lucy's voice cut through the tension in the room, calling out firmly, "Wendy! Stop!"
Wendy froze, her fierce growl still simmering in her chest, but she didn't take another step toward Raiden. Her eyes flicked over to Lucy, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed with a knowing, exasperated expression.
"Seriously?" Lucy said, raising an eyebrow. "This is how we're doing things now?"
Wendy huffed, her face flushed with both embarrassment and frustration. "He—he—he touched my nose," she sputtered, as though that was an unforgivable crime.
Raiden's smirk only widened, and he glanced back at Lucy. "I was simply defending myself."
Lucy shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You've got to stop provoking her. She's a dragon, not a toy."
Wendy growled again, but this time it was softer, more like a disgruntled kitten than a fearsome dragon. "I'm not a toy," she muttered, crossing her arms.
Raiden chuckled under his breath. "No, you're not. But you're definitely feisty."
Wendy glared up at him, though the anger in her eyes was now tempered by a reluctant amusement. "You're lucky you didn't hurt me. Next time, I'm really going to—"
Raiden raised a hand, cutting her off with a calm, almost lazy gesture. "I'm sure you will. As long as you don't go back to biting... If you do, I'll make sure to put you in an actual cage."
Wendy's eyes flared, and she stomped her hands down on the table, her voice sharp with frustration. "Just try it!"
Raiden's hands shot forward in a blur of motion, flicking her nose lightly, a gesture so quick and effortless that Wendy barely had time to react.
Wendy jerked back, a mix of shock and comical fury crossing her face. "You, you—"
"Act like a kid, get treated like one," Raiden responded nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips.
"Well, she is a kid," Lucy remarked dryly from the side, crossing her arms.
Wendy's face turned bright red with exasperation as she exploded into an irritated huff. "I'm not scared of you!"
Raiden chuckled. "Good. Most men are. It's fun to know a small girl is not."
Wendy growled, the sound more like an angry cat than a dragon. "Grrrr!" With a sudden burst of speed, she launched herself over the table, determined to tackle Raiden.
"WENDY!" Lucy shouted in warning, but it was too late.
Raiden, still smirking, effortlessly caught the small Dragon Slayer with one hand. In a smooth motion, he spun her around, his grip firm but not harsh. Before Wendy could protest, he encapsulated her in a bubble of wind, sending her spinning inside it.
Wendy's surprised shout turned into a dizzying mix of frustration and confusion as she spun in the bubble, unable to get her bearings.
"Having fun?" Raiden asked, his tone amused as he watched her spin.
"Let me out!" Wendy cried, her voice muffled as she tried to steady herself, but the wind's swirling force kept her off balance.
Raiden tilted his head, the smirk never leaving his face. "You were the one who wanted to play. Now, you're just going to have to enjoy the ride."
Wendy growled again, though the sound was now tinged with dizziness. "This isn't over!"
"Put her down," Lucy sighed, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I'll handle her."
Raiden chuckled, his amusement evident in the sound. "Fine." With a snap of his fingers, the wind bubble burst, dropping Wendy to the floor in a dizzy heap. She landed on her backside, but despite her disorientation, her spirit remained unbroken.
"You—" Wendy sputtered, pushing herself to her feet, her legs unsteady but her anger clear. "I'm gonna—"
Before she could finish, a small blast of water hit her square in the face, soaking her hair and cutting off her threat.
Raiden stood there, a finger outstretched in her direction, his voice taunting. "Gonna what?"
"Gonna—" Wendy gritted her teeth, ready to retaliate, but another blast of water hit her, sending a chill down her spine. Her growl deepened as her resolve hardened. She was not backing down.
A third blast shot toward her, but Wendy's reflexes kicked in. She leaped sideways, landing lightly on the kitchen counter, a safe distance from the oncoming water.
She stood there, her hair dripping, but her eyes blazing with determination. "Nice try, but I'm not done yet!"
Raiden just watched her, his smirk only widening. "You're a persistent little one, aren't you?"
Raiden's smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the challenge. He flicked his wrist, and before Wendy could react, a fine mist of water sprayed from his fingers, hitting her directly in the face. It was like he was treating her like an annoyed cat, the water cool and relentless as it splashed over her.
"Stop it!" Wendy shouted, shaking her head as she wiped the water from her eyes, her frustration mounting. "I'm not a—!"
Raiden sprayed her again, the mist swirling in the air before landing on her hair and face. His voice was light, almost mockingly sweet. "You're acting like one. Maybe you should just take a bath."
"Raiden, stop it!" Wendy growled, her cheeks flushed red, but the water kept coming, each spray a little more aggravating than the last.
Just as Wendy wound up for another angry leap at him, Lucy stepped forward, shaking her head with a sigh. "Alright, that's enough," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the playful tension. "Wendy, come on."
Wendy paused mid-pounce, glancing at Lucy, still dripping wet and with her hands clenched into fists. "But—"
"Now, Wendy," Lucy said with a mock sternness. "Before you get yourself even more soaked." She extended a hand toward Wendy, who hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat.
Raiden's amusement was still evident, but he raised an eyebrow at Lucy's intervention. "Taking the fun out of it, Lucy?"
Lucy gently pulled Wendy back. "Sometimes, the fun gets a little too one-sided." She looked down at Wendy, who was still grumbling under her breath. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Wendy shot Raiden one last glare, but the determination was fading from her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, still trying to hold on to her stubbornness, but the water dripping from her hair made her look a bit defeated. "Fine," she muttered, shooting a final look at Raiden. "But this isn't over."
Raiden chuckled, not at all worried. "I'll be waiting, little one."