Chapter 8 - Last Draw

Alright! Chapter 8 is out!

I… I did it. Again. Over 10,000 words.

I don't really feel confident in the feelings I conveyed with all of Rias's friends and family watching Venelana shoot her. I hope you all can enjoy it.

I hope the fights are entertaining for you.

I hope you enjoy the sweet lore I picked, adding towards the huge length in this chapter.

I purposely made Rias's dilemma in the situation confusing AF so if you don't get then kudos for me.

I don't own anything related to Fairy Tail, Fate, or Highschool DxD except OCs

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It all first started with a knock.

Not the usual kind either. Not the soft tap tap from a maid checking if I wanted tea. Not the quiet knock from Kiba when he came to ask if I needed help with training. No, this one was heavy. Deliberate.

It was a knock that meant someone important was on the usually other side.

"Come in," I said, trying to keep my voice composed. My fingers were wrapped around a book, though I'd barely been reading it for the last hour. My mind was too busy wandering into realms of freedom that didn't exist yet.

The door opened. My mother stepped in. Beautiful. Regal. Dressed in crimson and silver, the Gremory family colors flowing off her like water. She didn't speak right away, and subconsciously I signaled that as my first warning.

Venelana Gremory always started conversations with warmth.

This one began with silence.

I sat up straighter. "Mother?"

She closed the door behind her gently. Too gently. She even put up a privacy barrier, something I'd only seen used in political meetings.

Second warning.

She finally turned to me. "Rias. There's something I need to tell you."

She didn't sit down. She always sat down when we talked.

Third warning.

I stood up instinctively, the book falling from my lap to the floor. "…What is it?"

Her eyes closed for just a second. When she opened them, they looked… aged. Tired.

"You're to be married."

The words hung in the air like a guillotine.

"What?" I whispered.

"It's been decided by the elders. It's a political union. Your hand will go to Riser Phenex."

I couldn't even process it at first. It didn't register.

Then it hit me.

My first reaction wasn't horror. Or sadness. Or even fear.

It was rage.

"To that peacock?! That smug, flaming ego with wings?" I stormed forward. "You're joking. Please tell me this is one of my father's horrible sense-of-humor moments."

"I wish it were," she replied softly. "But it is finalized. The Phenex family approached us formally. The elders see it as a way to strengthen bloodlines and political ties. Your father agreed."

"And you?"

That made her flinch. A tiny twitch in her cheek, but I saw it. "I voiced my concerns. But it was not my decision to make."

"Of course not." My laugh was bitter. "Because I'm not a daughter. I'm a contract. A vessel with a hole and a title."

"Rias-"

"Don't Rias me! You're giving me to a man who thinks consent is a technicality. A man who treats women like trophies! A man who burns people when they annoy him."

My hands were shaking. I could feel the power building in my chest. Destruction magic flared at my fingertips, and I didn't care. Let it burn. Let the whole goddamn house burn if that's what it took to make them listen.

"I am not some bargaining chip. I'm not some docile little princess you can chain to a pureblood flame like I'm a firewood sacrifice!"

Venelana took a step forward. "Rias, listen to me. I know it isn't fair. I know it isn't right. But in our world, fairness doesn't exist. There are duties. There are expectations."

"I don't care about those," I snapped. "I'll run away. I'll go rogue. I'll live as a human. I'll marry a damn human just to spite you all."

Something flickered in her eyes.

Regret?

Fear?

"Don't say that," she whispered.

"Why not?" I said, chin up. "You've made your choice. Now watch me make mine."

I turned away. Not because I was done—but because if I looked at her any longer, I'd see the sorrow behind her mask. And that would make me hesitate.

I couldn't afford hesitation.

Not if I was going to break the story they'd written for me.

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[Bisca Mulan's POV]

"Venelana!" I shout my old friend's name, seeing her having her feet on one of the new kids.

Her hands are going to fire another shot. I don't have enough time to aim.

Venelana fires the shot, it hits Rias's form as a bright form emits from it, the glow brightens and shines my eyes.

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[ Kuoh Academy, Occult Research Club Room POV]

She screamed.

The moment Rias fell, Akeno screamed so loudly the walls vibrated.

"No! NO!"

Lightning burst out of her fingertips uncontrollably, frying every light in the room. The screen flickered with static but came back just in time to show Rias unmoving.

Kiba stood frozen, unable to move. He whispered her name over and over, like saying it enough times would reverse time.

"Rias...Rias...Rias..."

Koneko clung to the arm of the couch, knuckles white. Her body trembled, her ears flat. She looked so small. So helpless.

"Akeno, Kiba, Koneko calm down." Tsubaki said as she and the others attempted to comfort Rias's peerage.

"HOW CAN I CALM DOWN! RIAS GOT KILLED!" The Queen yelled.

"Look at the screen! She's okay!"

At the mention of that Akeno turns to the screen to find the light died down, Rias was fine!…

… and inside a grandfather clock?

"What the hell!" Not-Venelana? said a she looks at the now

"Safe!" Lucy said as she had appeared just in the nick of time, as she actually only made it just the right range for her spirits to be summoned.

Relief fills Rias's peerage members, thankful

Sona on the other hand was looking directly towards the woman-the criminal!- that they were after, she looked as the woman held near identical, no, ABSOLUTE resemblance towards Rias's mother.

The screen gives a title card, just like it does to a few other times when they meet a new character. And well…

The name was disturbing

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Hired Gun

The Velvet Slinger

Venelana Scarlatina

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[Sirzechs Lucifer POV]

"RIAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

The sound tore out of me before I could think, my voice shaking the very air in the room.

She was on the ground, crimson pooling beneath her, a shade that should never have been there. Not hers.

My body lurched forward, hands braced against the edge of the table, every muscle screaming to move, to break through the screen and drag her out of that cursed fight.

It was like watching my worst nightmare replay, only this time, I couldn't close my eyes and pretend it was just paranoia.

I felt Grayfia's hand clamp down on my arm, the pressure a silent order to stay put. "Sirzechs," she said, low, steady, the voice of reason I did not want to hear right now.

"Grafiya, let me-" I growled, magic crackling off me in waves.

"You can't," she said firmly. "You know you can't. That's a whole another world-"

"I don't care!" My voice cracked, the weight of it rattling in my chest. My little sister, my precious Rias, was bleeding and all I could do was watch.

The image shifted. Light flared on the screen. Lucy Heartfilia's form appeared, Rias's body no longer still. Relief hit me like a crashing wave, but it wasn't enough to stop the pounding in my ears.

I could still see it, everything, the gunshot, the way she fell. The way that woman stood there afterward, weapon in hand, face twisted into that smug mask.

The face of-

My breath caught. My eyes narrowed on the figure.

"…Mother?" The name slipped out before I could stop it.

No, this wasn't her. Couldn't be her.

But the resemblance… the voice…

I clenched my fists so tight my knuckles ached. I didn't know who she was, but I swore to myself right then. If that woman had truly hurt Rias, I would tear through dimensions to make sure she never touched her again.

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[Venelana Gremory POV]

That… can't be possible

I clutch my chest, tears starting to form.

"I…I he-" my words stutter, processing the revelation that just happened.

I heard it before she got shot. How she called for me. Then… then..

THAT BITCH WEARING MY FACE

She has my face! She has my name!

"Grandma? Are you alright?"

I turn to see Milicas walking toward me. My sweet little angel(more so than those real angels and they will never know about it.)

"I'm sorry sweetie, grandma was just surprised to see herself in here."

Millicas looked at the screen, the visage of seeing his aunt shot by his grandmother struck a nerve in him, sliding under his skin.

I went to hug him, comforting him while getting some for myself, I looked towards the screen, hoping that Rias made it out ok.

[Azazel POV — Grigori HQ]

"Damn… this is getting a bit freaky." I said as I was eating a nice meal made from the Grigori cafeteria.

"That person really is Venelana Gremory. Or at least looks like her."

Multiverse theory has been really popular in recent years. I'm a fan of it myself actually. There were actually a few things that Dad made that weren't known. I doubt it was a multiverse in itself but a man can dream.

I mean, a universe where Gabriel is a strip dancer might actually be out there!

"Now's not the time to think about Gabriel." I hear Penemue mutter.

"Come on! I know you're interested in it too."

"I am but for scientific research purposes first."

"So you would use to-"

"Yes, but not now." Penemue was holding a tablet, sliding her finger across it as she began typing in it.

"That makes another entry log to put in." As she puts in the information.

"But still, it was pretty fortunate for us. It would have been terrible if Gremory died." Knowing how Sirzechs will react to it, he'd probably destroy everything

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[Rias Gremory POV]

I start to wake up, blinking out of the memory, I quickly feel around, the pain in my abdomen hurts but I persist, I feel wood, a few seconds to see that I'm in a grandfather clock.

…

…

…

Why am I in a grandfather clock?!

I look up to see…

She's looking towards something, she then looked behind her as bullets came forward as she hops back. Then the next thing I KNOW! The grandfather clock is glowing.

I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH THIS?!

Everything around me stops glowing, no longer in a clock as I'm released from it.

"Rias! Hold on!"

I hear Rossweisse say as she picks me up. When I got on my feet I felt a hand touch where I was bleeding.

"Hold on, I can fix this!" The Valkyrie said resolutely.

"Then get behind cover." This time it was Bisca who said it, looking towards.

My thoughts were jumbled once more as I was dragged behind cover.

"Well then." The Velvet Shooter said, approaching where her hat fell, with the use of one of her legs, kicked her hat up back on her hand. Her hands are drawn like in western movies.

"Show me what you got!"

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[Earthland POV]

An explosion surged through the store as everyone and everything was sent away. Levy tumbled into a roll as she flew to the street. She got up and looked back just in time to see the sword user already charging straight towards her.

"Solid Script: Bullet!"

The word 'Bullet appeared in front of her as bullets shot out in tens of hundred. However, it was moot as he stabbed a sword in the ground and a blastshield was put up, simultaneously blocking the bullets and expanding towards Levy's position. She jumped back as it stopped as soon as it covered her spell.

"STOP RUNNING!" He yelled, giving chase towards Levy, she ran around, dodging more slashes while throwing her own spells. But nothing would stick as every word she did would get cut up by that damn sword of his! Fire, Air, Thunder,Oil, Stone, Snow, Butterfly!

Levy made a turnaround and returned towards the now destroyed toy store. The man had enough and just made a shockwave towards her, far bigger than any he made before.

"Solid Script: Guard!" The word proceeds to do its meaning and block the wave, however it wasn't enough as Levy was pushed back and soon sent flying. The force put her on her back as she fell on top of a skateboard, momentum gained from her sudden fall transferred towards it pushing it out of the rubble and onto the street.

"Damn it! GET BACK HERE!" The man said as he watches Levy get away, he turns to see some of the bandits begin to wake. "Get up you dunderheads! She's getting away, grab the bikes!"

Meanwhile back to Levy.

"Ahhhh?" She said as she's doing her best to adjust herself on the board, making sure not to slip off. "Alright." Levy said as she slowly put her feet down, the ground scraped against the bottom of her shoes." Stop, stop, stop." As she began to lose momentum, a sudden explosion emerged not far from her, the tremor made her lose focus as she was lifted up and was now facing forward. The sudden shift made her wobble the board, making it steer left and right, she managed to gain control and look back, to find not only the sword user, but others as well chasing after her with three motorbikes.

"Move. Move. MOVE!" Levy shouted, repeatedly started to push the ground with her feet, trying to gain speed to get away.

But let's be realistic honestly.

One bike had already managed to drive up to the left side, hand already engulfed in flames.

In a panic, Levy looked around trying to think of anything. She looked towards the wheels of the bike and an idea formed immediately, her hand corresponding to her desires.

"Solid Script: Stick!"

The word 'stick' came to life, the letters etched in wood, though it was only so small that she could grab it with her hand. However, it was perfect for what she needed.

The man fired one fireball, but thankfully he was still trying to drive so his aim was lacking. Levy ducked but in the process leaned a bit too much that the skateboard leered left and collided with the bike causing both to lose control for a moment.

The man was not pleased with that. "Damn bitch!" He was going to shoot another fireball when Levy pushed her stick into the gap in the front wheel. The sudden stop caused the bike to flip forward, completely reversing itself as his face made contact with the pavement the speed dragged him on.

"AHH! I'M SO SORRY!" Says Levy seeing the damage he sustained. Unfortunately, she couldn't pay any more attention as she heard motor sounds from the front. She looked forward to see the other bike managed to get in front of her.

This one had a magic circle out as pieces of earth came out of it. The now once smooth road is now covered with stones.

Levy held on as she stumbled as the skateboard tilted and shook rapidly. Levy's body jeers, she screeches as she holds on. She actually nearly had her body completely leap from the board excluding her hand. Though she landed right back on.

She lets her displeasure be known

"I HATE YOU! I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT I HATE YOU!"

The guy in front of her laughs at her misery, though she attempts to fire a spell, but keeps trembling her fingers, unable to properly write a word.

However, due to focusing so much on the man in front of her she completely forgot about the one behind her.

The sword glows as he fires another slash. It made contact just behind her as Levy was sent flying in the opposite direction. She tossed and turned on the ground, rolling over as the skateboard came along with her.

"AH! OW!" Levy grunts before finally stopping. She attempts to get up, her hands pushing herself off the ground. But then, she noticed that the ground was shaking. Levy looks up to see the man that was in front of her had stopped his bike. The man was charging his magic power to the ground, he raised his foot before slamming it down.

The ground around Levy was raised. The piece of earth was raised past the buildings. She was soon launched into the air.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Levy screams as she looks down to see everything below get smaller. Levy looks around trying to find anything to help, as she reaches her flight apex she looks to find the skateboard she was riding was flown with her. She goes to grab it, making contact with the edge of it. She starts falling as she uses her other hand to write another word.

"Solid Script: Glide!"

Levy wrote the word Glide, the letters forming in midair—pale, feathered, and glowing faintly. Wings unfurled from the sides of the word like folded parchment catching wind.

She kicked it downward, and at the same time, tossed her skateboard beneath her. The enchanted word sank into the board, fusing seamlessly. A shimmer of wind passed underneath, lifting it as the spell took effect.

Levy landed with both feet planted, knees bent for balance, and immediately wobbled—wind magic was not her specialty—but after a few seconds of frantic tilting, she steadied. Her eyes narrowed, arms out like a tightrope walker.

"Okay. Okay, this is—this is fine," she muttered, more to convince herself than anything.

Then she looked up.

And froze.

"...Whoa."

Ahead, the mountains loomed beyond the village, bathed in golden light. The setting sun kissed the peaks with soft orange and pink hues, turning the clouds above into watercolor streaks. From this high up, she could see the entire valley spread out below her, rivers winding like ribbons, rooftops dusted with rubble, fields beyond still untouched by the chaos.

It was beautiful.

For a moment, Levy forgot about the blood on her lip, the stinging in her ribs, the ache in her hands from writing too many spells too fast.

For a moment, it was just her. The wind. The sky.

Until a white slash in front of her tore her away from it.

She did not squeal as it went by and no one can prove otherwise.

Looking down to find the two were throwing chunks of earth and slash beams at her. She swerves left and right, maneuvering out of the way, soon ending up going down in a circle formation.

"This is bad." Levy thinks to herself, turning just in time to move out of an earth spike. "They got me out in the opening, and if I try to attack they have plenty of time to move, along with the cover of the houses. How could I bring them to me?"

As she thinks of what to do, she hears a voice from below. A HUGE ROCK! About three meters long nearly hit her. But that wasn't the only thing that came with it.

"You can't fly forever!" Said the earth mage, riding on top of the huge pile of rock. The sword user was right along with him.

…

…

…

"The hell are you looking at me like that?" He said

"… Nothing." Levy said not even bothering to question it.

She threw the word 'fire' towards them. The sword user cuts the word and sends a slash towards her. She ducks while writing another word, steering hard left while at it.

The earth user takes small pieces of his platform and throws them at her. One nearly got her head as she backed up, too much in fact as she fell off her board. She manages to grab on to the ledge, the board still going. As she tried to pull herself up, she saw the sword user had lunged toward her, his sword raised with intent to cut her in half.

"Solid Script: Gust!" Levy used her spell to create a burst of wind under her, lifting her up. The skateboard spinning as she uses that to avoid the strike and kick the man in the back of the head. She continued to rise as the momentum helped her get back on the board, the sword user wasn't down as flying land caught him.

If Levy was going to win this then she needs that earth mage gone. Thankfully it seems that he can't move much due to controlling so much. As a matter of fact…

"Are you reaching your limit?" She asked, looking down as the gust pushed her above him. She noticed that the rocks were moving less and less. She also noticed that they weren't far off from the ground, a dozen or more meters up.

"SHUT UP!" He said, using major effort to push the huge platform towards her. Levy made another 'Gust' to push herself forward towards him. He throws three rocks. She dodged the first two, but she jumped off the skateboard, onto the final rock and hopped on to where he is.

The Sword user knew what she was trying to do and fired sword blasts at the descending platform, splitting it into smaller pieces. Due to the loss of weight it was easier for the earth mage to lift himself higher while dragging Lev's with her. He used the other pieces to crush her. Once they all collided he then uses his platform to add onto the collision.

"Hahahah, get crushed little brat!"

"FO... HE... OVE… GOD… STO… CALLING… ME… LITTLE!" A small voice was heard as an explosion encompasses the earth formation sending him falling as he was blown off his stretch of land.

As he fell a shadow was seen through the dust as it approached him, it was Levy carrying a huge 'Iron' with her.

"How did you?!"

Well um… she has… less stats applied towards her build.

Plus she comboed with a 'Guard' and a 'Bomb' to keep herself safe.

"HAH!"

THUNK!

Levy bashed his skull with the word as he was knocked out of the fight, thankfully the ground was only a few meters from the ground…

Or well, the roof ceilings but that's not a big deal.

Levy jumps off the 'Iron' as it dissipates as she grabs onto the sides of the skateboard. That's one down, but she's not out of the woods left.

"You're finished, now girl." The sword user said as he landed on one of the roofs, he coursed magic through his sword, glowing whiter than ever as he jumps while simultaneously driving the sword onto the roof. A huge explosion collapsed the building entirely, used for his jump.

"Can't write anymore words to save ya can't you!" He said heading straight towards her. Seeing the danger she moves her legs, trying to get herself up.

As he swung his sword, ready to kill her, Levy revealed one final trick up her sleeve.

"Solid Script: Sword!"

"Huh?!"

His strike slammed into the word 'Sword' a gleaming set of letters now blocking the attack, balanced beneath Levy's feet.

"You wrote with your feet?!"

Levy smirked. She twisted her body, shifting into a handstand atop the board, using the movement to disarm him. The blade clattered off into the distance.

"One more time!"

She dropped back onto the skateboard, fingers moving fast.

"Solid Script: Hurricane!"

The word exploded into motion. Wind howled around them, a vortex swirling with deafening force. The sword user had no time to react—he was swept into the storm's center, buffeted and flailing.

Levy, meanwhile, rode the outer edge, carving through the hurricane like a pro skater on rails. Her hair whipped around her, eyes locked on the man inside.

When she reached the top of the vortex, she dismissed her Glide. The board faltered, and her hand moved one more time.

"Solid Script: Heavy!"

The spell slammed into place. Her body dropped—weight crashing back in an instant. She flipped midair, grabbing the newly enchanted skateboard and hurled it straight down.

Straight at him.

The skateboard struck him square in the face with a crack, snapping his head back before the rest of him followed. He dropped like a stone, unconscious before he hit the rooftop below.

Levy fell right after and landed in a crouch on the same board she'd thrown, knees bent, heart pounding, the wind still whispering past her ears. The wheels skidded across the roof before settling into a steady glide.

For a moment, she just stood there, chest heaving, arms loose at her sides. Then, as the silence settled in, she let out a short, breathless laugh.

And then she winced—ow, yeah, that was gonna bruise.

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On another side of town, two women were running. One in furious pursuit, the other in full-blown retreat.

"Come back here! Where did all that bravado go earlier?" Mickey shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos, sharp and pissed.

"Fuck no! Stay the hell away from me!" Melissa barked back, panting as she sprinted down the street, her tone laced with sheer panic.

Now, you might be wondering. 'Why was Melissa running like a terrified newbie, when not five minutes ago she was all too eager to throw hands?'

Well. Here's the thing.

Mid-fight, Melissa had spotted one of her more questionable acquaintances lurking in an alley. He looked ready to sneak up behind Mickey while her attention was locked on Melissa. Normally, Melissa hated interference, there's nothing ruining a good, clean brawl like some idiot trying to play hero.

But today?

Today she needed the payout.

So she played along. Just this once.

She baited Mickey perfectly, dancing just close enough to make her drop her guard. And her alley-rat pal struck right on cue. He proceeded with a solid kick to Mickey's jaw the moment she turned.

Perfect ambush. Should've been a knockout.

But then came the scream.

Sharp. Raw. Wrong.

Melissa flinched. She wasn't even looking at the alley when it happened, but the sound alone was enough to make her stomach twist. Like something broke. Like everything broke.

She turned just in time to see it.

Mickey stood there, completely unfazed, one hand fisted around the man's entire face.

She lifted him.

And then

SLAM

Mickey dragged him sideways like dead weight and smashed his body into the brick wall. The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing outward. His leg—his left one—was now bent at an angle that legs weren't supposed to bend, and definitely not that short.

Melissa stared for a full half-second.

"…Shit."

Then she ran.

Faster.

Melissa darted down the alley, her breath burning in her lungs, heart pounding hard enough to make her ribs ache.

She needed to lose this chick. Now.

But as she turned the next corner, something caught her eye. A flicker of movement high in the sky

Someone was airborne. It was hard to notice, but it looked like a small child was being sent to the air. The girl was screaming as she soared overhead, flailing midair like a ragdoll.

"What the actual-"

She didn't get to finish.

Her foot caught on a loose piece of stone and the world tilted sharply. Melissa yelped as she tripped and slammed shoulder-first onto the pavement, pain zipping down her side.

"Son of a—!"

She rolled to her back, just in time to see Mickey leap—body arcing like a damn predator, coming straight for her.

"Nononono!" Panic took over. Melissa threw her arm up, shouting the only spell she had the energy for:

"Ironclad!"

A dull shimmer ran across her skin as it instantly turned metallic, gray and gleaming like polished steel. The air shimmered with residual magic.

And then

CRASH

Mickey landed on her, full force.

Melissa's arms blocked her face as they hit, metal skin ringing like a bell under the weight. Sparks flew. The ground cracked beneath them.

It worked. Mostly.

She wasn't dead. That was a win.

But pain still rattled through her bones. The magic stopped the crush, not the impact. Her shoulder screamed. Her legs felt like wet noodles. And her lungs? Fully regretting the decision to exist.

"Nggh—ow. Okay. Okay. That sucked," Melissa wheezed, trying to wriggle out from under Mickey's grip. "You're heavier than you look."

Mickey didn't laugh.

Instead, she slowly looked down at Melissa's arm.

And then grabbed it.

Hard.

The metal skin groaned under the pressure of Mickey's grip, fingers denting the enchantment like it was tinfoil.

"Oh," Melissa muttered. "That's not good."

Melissa didn't think—just swung.

Her fist, still coated in enchanted steel, smashed into Mickey's cheek with a sharp clang.

The force made Mickey's head snap sideways, and for half a second, she staggered.

"Back off!" Melissa shouted, scrambling to her feet. Her muscles screamed in protest, but adrenaline shoved the pain down. She turned and ran again, barely a few steps before-

Thud.

A shadow swept overhead. Mickey landed in front of her, crouched low like a wildcat, dirt spraying from the impact.

Melissa skidded to a halt.

"…Seriously?" she panted.

Mickey stood, brushing blood from her lip with the back of her hand. "You hit harder than I expected," she said with a grin that wasn't remotely friendly. "Guess I don't have to hold back."

Melissa's heart dropped.

Shit.

Mickey lunged.

Melissa didn't dodge. Instead, she clapped her hands together, a quick burst of magic rippling through her frame.

"Ironclad: Full Plate!"

Her body gleamed brighter, the metal over her limbs thickening, interlocking like armor. Her legs braced automatically, feet digging into the ground just as Mickey crashed into her like a battering ram.

They tumbled, fists flying.

Mickey fought like she was built for mayhem, wild, fast, and unpredictable. She didn't care about technique or form. She just hit. Elbows, knees, headbutts, anything that landed, landed hard. Her strength was raw and untamed, each blow a threat to break something.

Melissa gritted her teeth, deflecting most of it, but not all. The reinforced metal dulled the pain, but it didn't erase it. A punch to her ribs rattled her lungs. A kick to her thigh made her leg go momentarily numb.

She struck back, aiming precise, reinforced punches to Mickey's gut, her shoulder, her jaw.

But Mickey kept coming.

Melissa ducked a wild right hook and drove her fist into Mickey's side. The impact staggered her, and Melissa pressed the opening, swinging again, again, hammering with metal-coated fists until

Mickey caught one.

Her fingers clenched around Melissa's wrist, and she twisted.

Pain screamed down her arm. Melissa cried out, her knees almost buckling.

"Your new coat is pretty sloppy," Mickey growled, dragging her closer. "All polish. No depth."

"Says the bitch brawling like she never left the woods!"

She slammed her forehead into Melissa's face. Sparks flared as metal skin absorbed the hit—but the sheer force still rattled her brain.

Melissa shoved her back, spitting blood.

"I don't need depth," she snapped. "I just need to keep you busy."

Mickey blinked, caught slightly off guard.

Just long enough.

Melissa's hand glowed again, charging a spell in her palm. Her mouth twisted in a smirk, blood on her lip. "How about I show you what polish really looks like?"

Melissa's fingers slammed into the ground, her magic pulsing down into the earth.

"Ironclad: Bind!"

The pavement cracked. Liquid metal surged up from the cracks, molten lines snaking like vines toward Mickey's feet. Before she could react, the silver erupted upward—curling around her legs, her arms, her torso. In seconds, Mickey was trapped in a metal cocoon, her limbs fused to the walls, her expression hidden behind a silvery shell.

The street fell silent.

Melissa stumbled back, panting, blood dripping from her brow. Her skin flickered as the armor enchantment began to fade from sheer magical drain.

"Finally," she muttered, breathing hard. "Took you long enough to stay down."

She wiped her mouth and stood a little straighter, giving the encased statue a tired smirk. "You know, I almost feel bad for that forehead shot earlier. Almost."

A low hiss answered her.

Melissa blinked. "…What?"

The metal began to glow.

Not red.

Not orange.

Yellow.

Tiny cracks formed across the cocoon, yellow fire leaking from them like sunlight bleeding through a broken window. The metal hissed and bubbled, softening like wax. It wasn't heat from outside.

It was coming from inside.

"…Oh no."

The cocoon exploded outward.

Chunks of half-melted metal flew across the alley, steam and fire hissing through the cracks. Melissa threw her arms up just in time to block the debris, stumbling back on shaking legs.

And then

Mickey stepped out of the ruin.

Her body burned with a golden flame—not wild and flickering like normal fire, but dense, almost solid. The flames coiled around her fists and calves like gauntlets, pulsing with power. Her eyes glowed the same shade, bright, steady, furious.

Melissa's stomach dropped.

"Yellow Fire…" she breathed.

She'd heard of this. Some mages are able to utilize 'colors' of an element. Phantom Lord had a fire one, pretty sure she heard of one wizard who had red ice, or was it black sand?

Mickey rolled her neck with a pop. Her foot came down on a chunk of melted metal and it shattered like glass beneath her heel.

"You're not the only one who can power up," she said, voice deeper now, almost vibrating with energy.

Then she moved.

Too fast.

Melissa barely got her arms up before Mickey was on her, a glowing fist slamming into her enchanted forearm. The metal cracked and Melissa's arm went numb from the shockwave.

"Shit!" she gasped, stumbling back, trying to cast again, but Mickey didn't let up.

Another punch.

Another.

Melissa blocked as best she could, armor shattering piece by piece under the barrage. Sparks flew. Blood sprayed. Her back slammed into the wall.

This wasn't a fight anymore.

It was a beating.

Melissa staggered, barely able to hold her arms up. Her armor, once gleaming, now hung in fractured plates, blackened and split at the seams. One more hit and it would fall apart completely.

Mickey didn't speak.

She didn't need to.

Her eyes burned gold. Her fists trailed the flame. And her next punch crashed into Melissa's gut like a sledgehammer.

CRACK.

The armor shattered at the point of impact, metal splintering and falling away in molten shards. Melissa doubled over, a choked sound leaving her lips as blood spilled from her mouth, trailing down her chin.

Her knees buckled.

She tried to cast anything, a shield, a pulse, a word. But Mickey grabbed her by the collar and lifted her like a rag doll.

"I told you," Mickey growled, her voice low and molten. "I don't play fair either."

And then she drove her fist into Melissa's jaw.

The sound was brutal. A wet snap beneath the ring of impact. Melissa's body went limp.

Mickey let her drop.

She hit the ground hard, half on her side, one hand twitching before it stilled. Blood pooled slowly beneath her face, mixing with the glowing metal fragments on the cracked stone floor.

For a moment, Mickey just stood there, yellow fire flickering quietly around her shoulders.

Then she exhaled, let the flames fade, and turned away.

Melissa didn't move.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Can I have my hammer back, please?" the man called out dryly, his voice edged with exasperation as he balanced precariously on a thick tree limb. Above him, suspended in a tangled nest of trees that looked more sentient than plant, his hammer glinted in a shaft of dim light. The trees pulsed faintly—as though they breathed.

Around him, the world had changed. What had once been a quiet suburban street was now swallowed by a sudden forest, dense and humid, stretching three, maybe five city blocks. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd just woken up in the heart of a jungle.

Across the clearing, perched on another massive branch with the ease of a panther, Laki stood ready. Her eyes glinted beneath her fringe, and her hands were already weaving intricate shapes in the air.

"Wood-Make: Snake-Way of the Dearly Departed!"

The spell crackled to life. Bark twisted and groaned as a massive serpent-shaped tree uncoiled from the undergrowth. It moved with terrifying grace, bark splitting and healing as it slid like a predator through the newly grown forest, its leafy crown hissing in the wind.

His eyes widened. "Nope. Not today."

With that, he turned and bolted, leaping from branch to branch, barely keeping his balance. Bark crunched beneath his boots. Branches clawed at his coat. Behind him, the wooden serpent gave chase, faster than any spell that size had a right to be.

Too fast.

The strike hit him squarely in the back. A blunt, crushing force that stole the breath from his lungs. Pain lanced through him as he was yanked from the air and hurled into the trunk of a tree. He hit hard, bark splintering behind him, his body flattening awkwardly against the rough surface.

He slid down, groaning. His limbs didn't quite want to move, not yet.

"Alright," he gasped, coughing as he staggered to his feet. Blood flecked his lips. "I need to do something about this."

He raised one shaky hand. A thought, sharpened by desperation and the hammer's handle jolted. It twitched, broke free from the vine's grasp, and shot into the air like a spear. Channeling his magic through it, the handle moved on its own, alive with intent.

It arced across the clearing toward Laki, spinning like a guided missile.

The wooden serpent reared back for another strike, but Laki's eyes flicked upward just in time. A sharp hum cut through the air, a blur of motion streaking toward her.

The hammer handle.

She twisted her body sideways as it whipped past her leg, grazing her thigh with just enough force to make her grunt and stagger. Before she could recover, it looped back around—this time aiming straight for her chest. She dropped into a roll along the branch, bark scraping her arms and hips, the hammer whooshing past just inches from her ribs.

It wasn't done.

The handle spun like a predator denied its prey, rebounding with frightening precision. She threw herself flat, heart pounding as it sliced overhead, so close she felt the air shift along her scalp. If she had flinched the wrong way it would have taken her head clean off.

Laki cursed under her breath, ducking behind the thicker part of the trunk to shield herself, her hands already forming another spell.

Meanwhile, the man crouched low on his branch, gritting his teeth as he extended a trembling hand toward all the bark that still held the hammerhead. His fingers were bloodied from the earlier hit, and pain throbbed down his spine, but he focused past it, eyes locked on his weapon.

Come on…

The trees writhed around the embedded metal as though they sensed his intent, tightening, shifting to resist.

He closed his eyes for half a second, summoning every ounce of strength and magic he had left. The runes etched along the hammer's head glowed faintly, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

With a guttural shout, he yanked.

The trees screamed.

The hammer tore free with a violent crack, trailing shredded greenery and a burst of glowing sap. It flew through the air with the weight of a meteor, spinning end over end—headed straight back to its master.

He reached out and caught it one-handed, the impact nearly sending him off balance. He dropped to one knee, panting hard, but the weapon was finally whole again.

A shimmer of strength flowed back into him through the handle, steadying his stance.

"You're not the only one who can talk to trees, fairy fly." he growled, lifting the hammer and pointing it toward her.

The forest seemed to hold its breath. The hammer glows azure. With his hammer finally in hand, the man didn't hesitate.

He launched himself off the branch, muscles burning, cloak billowing behind him. The head of the hammer pulsed with a fierce azure glow, runes flaring to life across its surface like veins of molten crystal.

As he descended, he twisted midair and brought the hammer down hard on a thick branch beneath him.

The forest screamed.

The impact sent a shockwave through the wood, a deep hum resonating through the roots and trunks. Azure lightning erupted from the point of contact, crawling like veins through the bark, racing outward across every branch and limb connected to the tree system—an explosive web of raw energy.

It surged toward Laki.

She barely had time to react. Her eyes went wide—then the lightning hit.

The bolt struck her directly, her body jerking violently as arcs of electricity wrapped around her limbs, her magic momentarily shorting out in a crackle of green and gold. Her scream was muffled by the roar of the thunder that followed.

She crumpled to one knee, smoking slightly, vision swimming.

But she forced herself up, staggering, teeth clenched. "You-" she managed, lifting her hands to cast a spell.

But it was too late.

He was already there.

His silhouette emerged from the fading lightning like a storm given form, hammer raised high. With a shout, he swung—not for the head, but the side, a blunt impact that struck her clean across the ribs.

The air rushed from her lungs as she was hurled backward, limbs flailing.

She crashed through a thicket of trees, snapping branches on the way down, and then out—tumbling past the final tree into the concrete street beyond the forest's edge. She landed hard on her side, skidding across the pavement before coming to a stop near the curb, her breaths ragged and shallow.

The unnatural forest loomed behind her, the place she'd been forced out of. It pulsed once, quietly, as if aware its influence was receding.

She lay still for a moment, one arm draped across her ribs, her chest heaving. Bruised. Shaken. But not broken.

Above her, the sky was clear again.

Laki groaned as she rolled onto her back, one arm still wrapped protectively around her ribs. Every breath hurts. Her body buzzed faintly from the lightning strike, like her nerves hadn't quite figured out if they wanted to scream or shut down completely.

She pushed herself upright, brushing away splinters and ash from her clothes. "So much for Wood-Make: Enchanted Wonder of Natural Evolution," she muttered bitterly, swiping a strand of hair from her face. "That was supposed to be a trap, not a damn power conduit."

The faint sound of footsteps echoed behind her.

Heavy. Measured.

She looked up, squinting through the shimmering haze of heat still rising from the forest's edge.

He emerged from the tree line like something out of a war legend—burnt cape flaring behind him, lightning still flickering off his shoulders. The hammer in his hand glowed again, deeper this time. The blue had darkened into something colder, something more controlled. Hungry.

Laki's breath caught.

Not because she was afraid of him. No. She wasn't afraid. But that hammer… that thing had almost thought for itself. When it was separated, it hunted her. And when it returned to him, it made him into something else.

It appears that he was simply playing around earlier.

She staggered fully to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pull of a bruised muscle in her side. Her mind was already turning, calculating, remembering every time she'd seen him fight. Not his movements, but the pattern.

The hammer never left him for long.

Even when it flew on its own, it came back. Always. As if it were bound to him.

"Alright," she muttered, voice low, scanning the surroundings. Just a flat street, scattered debris, no trees left to use except…

Her eyes darted to the sewer grate nearby. Now normally, it wouldn't be much use, that was until she noticed how magic powered items were interacting. It was a simple lamp used to light up the area, two had fallen near it, one in and one out, the one in it was off the other vice versa, the bulb not broken and the magic was still coursing through. Meaning, that the gate is magically dead. Causing interference through disrupting the magic coursing, though it can be forced through with enough force.

Though with Holder type magic…

She smiled through her pain.

If she could separate him from the hammer again, and trick it and drag it down into that gap it wouldn't be able to return. Not without help. Not without time. Time she could use.

"Okay." she said, raising her voice as she took a few slow steps backward. Her hands rose in mock surrender, but her fingers were already weaving behind her back, magic beginning to build. "You want to partake in round two? You're getting it."

The hammer glowed brighter.

He didn't answer—just kept walking, the hum of the weapon filling the air between them.

Laki swallowed, her body aching, but her mind clear.

She just needed one clean opening.

Laki took a step back, then another, carefully drawing him away from the trees and toward the wide-open space of the ruined street. Her eyes flicked once more to the sewer grate just to her right. If she timed it right…

"Y'know," she said, forcing a smile as she circled him, "for someone with a magic hammer, your hand-to-hand skills are kind of rusty. Are you always hiding behind that thing?"

He stopped walking.

The glow of the hammer pulsed, but he didn't swing. He just stared at her, jaw tightening. No words. Just quiet anger.

Good.

"Come on then," she goaded, tossing her hair back and letting her magic flare—just enough to look reckless. "Or is your toy gonna do all the work again?"

That did it.

With a snarl, he raised the hammer, then hurled it.

It spun toward her like a comet, blue light streaking behind it.

Laki waited until the last second, then dove to the side right past the sewer grate.

The hammer struck the ground where she'd stood, but instead of rebounding, it tilted and dropped—just enough for her trap to spring. With a whispered spell and a hard kick to a crumbling chunk of concrete, she knocked the grate open, catching the hammer off balance.

It fell.

With a clang, the enchanted weapon slipped through the opening and vanished into the dark void beneath the street, followed by a pulse of runic backlash as its magical tether snapped short. The sewer's anti-enchantment wards flared for a moment, sealing it off.

He froze, eyes wide.

"No," he breathed, stepping toward the grate, but too late.

Laki was already moving.

She launched herself at him, catching him off guard with a punch to the gut. He doubled over with a grunt, and she followed up with a sharp knee to his ribs and a sweeping kick to knock him off his feet. He staggered, recovered quickly, but not quickly enough.

Now it was just them.

No hammer.

No trees.

Just bruised skin and raw instincts.

He lunged, fist aimed for her face but she ducked, slipped under his arm, and slammed an elbow into his kidney. He spun, catching her with a blow across the cheek, the force nearly sending her sprawling. She tasted blood.

"Still got a gladiator's spirit in you," she muttered, smirking through the pain.

He came again, faster this time. His punches were relentless. She blocked, dodged, barely keeping up, her body crying out with every motion. A punch clipped her jaw. Another hit her stomach. Her knees buckled.

But she twisted in the fall, using her momentum to hook his leg and drag him down with her.

They hit the ground hard, rolling across the asphalt. She landed on top and drove her forearm into his throat, forcing him back. He grabbed at her wrist, trying to twist free, but she headbutted him once, then again, dazing him.

Then she slammed her fist into his temple.

Once.

Twice.

He went still beneath her, breathing hard, but no longer fighting.

She rolled off, collapsing beside him, chest heaving.

The street was quiet.

Only the sound of their breath remained.

________________________________________________________________________________

Shots were still flying across the war-torn street, green and brown pellets cutting jagged lines through the haze. Cracks of gunfire echoed like thunder, splintering debris and rattling window frames. In the chaos, Bisca ducked behind a collapsed cart, returning fire with her usual precision, while Velvet Shooter rained down shots from the high ground, cool and methodical.

But at street level, Rias wasn't moving.

Lucy held her close, her arms still around Rias's shoulders, grounding her as Rossweisse knelt at their side, healing magic doing its work. A soft warmth spread over Rias's side where the bullet had struck, the wound knitting together with supernatural speed.

Physically, she was fine.

But her eyes hadn't blinked in too long.

"Alright!" Rossweisse exhaled, rising to her feet. "Wound's sealed! And nothing critical seems wrong. I'm going to help Bisca!" With a flourish, she summoned a magic circle, firing a scatter of shots upward,not precise, but enough to suppress.

Then she was gone, her footsteps lost in the noise.

Lucy stayed.

Still crouched beside Rias, she leaned in, voice low. "You alright? You seem pretty spooked…"

No answer.

Rias's gaze was unfocused, trained somewhere far above the skyline. Her chest rose and fell too slowly. Lucy frowned and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"…Can you stand alright by yourself?"

Rias blinked.

Slowly.

Then finally, she spoke—but not to Lucy. Not really.

"She didn't even hesitate."

Lucy tilted her head. "Huh? Who?"

Rias didn't respond right away. She shifted slightly, her hand drifting toward her side—not because it hurt anymore, but as if she couldn't believe the wound was gone. Like if she pressed too hard, it would bleed all over again.

"She aimed right at me. Looked straight at my face. And she still pulled the trigger."

Her voice was soft, strangely detached.

Lucy sat back a bit, her concern deepening. "Rias… do you know her?"

The question hung between them, a little too close to the truth.

Rias's lips parted. Her answer stalled at the edge of her throat. Something inside her wanted to say it. To explain that the woman who shot her wasn't just an enemy or a mercenary with good aim—that it had been her mother. Or someone so close to her mother that it twisted something in her chest.

But the words never came. Or at least the words she wanted to say.

"No," she lied, quietly. "I don't know her."

Lucy studied her, clearly unconvinced, but didn't push. Instead, she helped Rias to her feet, keeping a hand under her arm to steady her.

Rias stood shakily. The street swam around her for a moment, heat clinging to her skin. Her side didn't hurt, but the phantom pain lingered. Not from the bullet, but from the action itself.

She remembered the last time her mother had hugged her.

How warm her hands had been.

How safe her voice had sounded.

She remembered soft lullabies in ancient demonic tongues, hands in her hair, words whispered against nightmares. That woman—the real Venelana—had once stood between her and a world of danger.

Now her doppelgänger had put a bullet in her ribs.

Without flinching.

Rias stared toward the rooftop, where gunfire still sparked through the smoke.

"…I need to get out there," she murmured.

Lucy looked at her sharply. "Hey, no. You're still shaken. We need to regroup, not rush back into-"

"I need to," Rias said, her voice firmer now. Her magic was beginning to stir, slow at first, crimson and flickering, but building beneath her skin like a storm. "I can't let her get away with it."

Her eyes darkened—not with rage, but something colder.

Conviction.

Finality.

Lucy hesitated. Then slowly let her hand fall away.

Rias took a step forward, her legs steadying beneath her, magic cracking faintly at her fingertips.

Inside, she was still shaking.

But on the outside; she was ready.

Rias broke cover, crimson energy crackling faintly in her wake. Her breath was steady, movements precise, but Lucy could see it, that tightness in her jaw, the slightly unfocused gaze. She was still reeling, still not all there.

So Lucy stayed close.

"Don't fall behind!" Rias called, charging across the open street.

"I was gonna say that to you!" Lucy snapped back, sprinting beside her.

They ducked past scorched debris and broken walls, rushing toward Rossweisse, who had just regrouped near a collapsed archway. But the second they stepped into the clearing, a sickening voice echoed from above.

"Damn rats keep multiplying! Armor P Full Gatling!"

Venelana's voice rang out with a cruel lilt. Her silhouette shifted on the rooftop, hands morphing into barrels, twin magic circles spinning with inhuman speed.

Rias skidded to a stop, eyes widening.

The bullets didn't just come fast—they ripped the earth apart. Concrete exploded beneath their feet as the barrage swept in, tearing a jagged path like something alive. Each shot cracked and lifted the road like a god's hammer pounding from beneath.

"EEEHHHH!" Lucy shrieked, diving at Rias and tackling her sideways, both of them crashing into a narrow alleyway. Rossweisse followed an instant later, slamming into the wall beside them, magic circle raised in defense.

For a moment, silence. Then

BANG!

Shots punched through the alley walls. Not one. Not two. Dozens. Magic-infused metal tearing through stone like wet parchment. Dust exploded around them. Plaster cracked. One shot zipped between Rias and Rossweisse, leaving a molten hole in the wall behind them.

"OH GOD!" Lucy yelped, hands over her head.

"AHH!"

The air shimmered as another round sliced through Rias's shoulder.

She gasped, stumbling, her balance thrown. Pain flared, but it wasn't the wound that caught her off guard, it was Lucy's voice. The invocation of God. The holy weight of it struck her demonic soul like a hammer to glass.

"Rias!" Lucy cried, catching her before she fell.

"I'm alright!" Rias growled, staggering upright. Her shoulder was bleeding again. Nothing more than a graze, but the sting was sharp. Her temples throbbed harder. "Don't… don't say that word next to me…"

Lucy blinked. "What, God-?"

Rias flinched, a fresh spike of pain cutting behind her eyes. "Yes! That! Just-don't!"

Rossweisse pulled them both behind a stack of crates as the wall behind them caved inward. A bullet had punched through not just their shelter, but the buildings behind it. All of them.

She peeked through a jagged hole, jaw tightening.

"How did…?"

From the rooftop, a voice answered, smug and vicious.

"Aw, didn't your best buddy Bisca tell you? My magic bullets can pierce through iron like wet tissue!"

Velvet Shooter stood silhouetted against the skyline, smoke rising from her weaponized arms, her hair swept by the wind. Her expression was calm. Almost amused.

Rias stared up at her, fist balling.

"Are you all ok?" Bisca said.

"Yeah! We're alright!" Lucy called out, her voice firm despite the ringing still in her ears. She stepped out from the alley with Rias and Rossweisse behind her, the three of them regrouping under the battered frame of an old awning.

Rias's hand trembled slightly before she clenched it into a tight fist once more.

Her blue eyes locked on Venelana.

She didn't blink. She didn't speak.

But she felt it.

The moment Venelana saw her again. Saw the burn behind her eyes. The storm still building.

Venelana smiled.

"You got a hell of a glare, little bugger," she said, voice syrupy and condescending, like she was talking to a rebellious kitten. "But do you get the same for your bite?"

Rias didn't flinch. Her voice came out cold and cracked, like it had been frozen under the weight of fury.

"Stop… talking."

Venelana tilted her head, amused. Her fingers shifted, still shaped like weapons but relaxed, as if she wasn't even worried. As if they were just having a casual reunion under slightly tense circumstances.

Meanwhile, the girls readied themselves.

Bisca's rifles never wavered, locked firmly on Venelana's chest. Her stance was solid, but her expression wasn't. Her eyes flickered—not with doubt, but with sorrow. The kind that came from too many memories, too many shared jokes turned bitter with time.

Lucy raised three Celestial Keys, two silver and one gold gleaming in her fingers. Her heart pounded, but she kept her gaze locked.

Rossweisse formed a shimmering magic circle, its layered structure pulsing with experimental energy. Asgardian runes laced with Earthland glyphs. She didn't know exactly what it would do yet, but she wanted to know. And she was ready to risk it.

Then came Bisca's voice.

Soft.

Almost pleading.

"Give up, Vel."

"You're not gonna make it out. Half our team is here now. The other half'll be here soon. And I don't care who you've got watching your back—nobody stops Fairy Tail. Just… stand down. Please."

Bisca's rifle didn't lower.

But her expression did.

"We could talk. Really talk. Catch up. Without all the killing and all?"

Venelana's laugh was short. Bitter.

"Your best friend shows up after all these years, and your first instinct is to send her away after so long?"

Her gaze narrowed, cruel warmth melting into venom.

Bisca flinched.

It was the smallest thing—a twitch at the corner of her eye—but Rias saw it.

She felt it.

And she had no patience for it.

The air around her cracked with pressure, magic flaring like a fire suddenly fed oxygen. Sparks of crimson light licked the edges of her fingers. Her eyes didn't leave Venelana. Didn't blink. Didn't soften.

"You're not her," Rias muttered, barely audible.

Lucy looked over. "Rias…?"

"She's not your friend," Rias said, louder now. "She's not my ... She's just in someone else's skin."

Venelana's brow lifted ever so slightly. But Rias didn't give her time to speak.

Rias's magic surged, raw, furious, and no longer restrained. Her hands pressed together, crimson energy swirling between her palms as her demonic power spiked. The air around her shimmered with heat distortion.

Then she thrust her hands forward, the blast tearing through the air with explosive force. A spiraling beam of red magic screamed toward Venelana.

But she was fast.

Venelana threw herself from the rooftop in a smooth dive, flipping midair before landing hard on the cracked street below, skidding against the debris. Without missing a beat, she dropped to one knee, arms morphing into barrels again.

She opened fire.

A flurry of glowing brown bullets tore through the smoke, but Lucy, Rossweisse, and Rias scattered with practiced coordination, ducking behind debris, conjuring shields, or like Rias—just letting the sheer force of her magic vaporize the projectiles mid-air. The impromptu force, being uneasy, making a huge mass of destruction so malleable.

Bisca was the first to return fire.

Her pistols had been blown from her grasp earlier, but she reached into her belt and retrieved her modified rifle with a fluid motion.

"Spark Shot!"

A crackling arc of lightning surged down the rifle's barrel and discharged, spiraling through the air like a coiled dragon of electricity. The bolt lit up the street, briefly illuminating Venelana's smirking face.

She backflipped away, the bolt narrowly missing and searing a crater into the ground behind her.

But the moment her feet touched the ground, she faced another threat.

"Open! Gate of the Sea Goat:Capricorn!" Lucy shouted, her gold key held high.

A magical rupture tore open beside her, and from it emerged Capricorn. Without hesitation, he dashed forward. For someone his size, he moved fast, his hooves barely making a sound as he covered half the distance to Venelana in seconds.

"Persistent little things!" Venelana hissed as she continued to retreat, firing at Capricorn and the girls without pause.

Rias charged, her crimson magic dancing around her like solar flares. Rossweisse was right behind her, shielded by glowing Asgardian runes as she muttered incantations in ancient Norse.

Bullets flew toward them.

Rias disintegrated the ones in her path, her aura melting them in midair. Rossweisse blocked others with hexagonal shields that rippled under each impact.

"She's backing off!" Rossweisse called out.

Venelana leapt backward again, her boots barely touching the cracked pavement as she lost shot after shot, each one designed more to slow than to kill. Her tactics were clear now—she was trying to buy time. For what, they didn't know.

But Rias wasn't going to let her.

"You're not getting away again!"

She poured more energy into her next attack, her crimson wings flaring behind her like a phoenix in full burn, and launched forward, faster, more precisely.

Venelana's smile finally faltered.

"Hopshot!"

Her hands flattened, palms glowing with pulsing glyphs, then boom, three explosive bursts fired from beneath her, launching her back through the air like a human cannonball. Each blast scorched the ground where she'd just been, doubling as propulsion and suppression.

She was fast, already gaining distance.

But in her focus on the group ahead, she forgot something.

She forgot Bisca's warning.

A shadow dropped overhead. Venelana twisted midair, instincts kicking in, just in time to see the blade descending.

Clang!

Her left hand flared, forming a quick shield of compressed bullet magic,just enough to block the strike. Sparks flew as steel kissed magic. The two forces clashed for a second, and then-

"You again!" she hissed.

Xenovia landed in front of her, sword in hand, eyes focused and cold. Behind Venelana, she could see the others approaching , Lucy, Rossweisse, Capricorn, closing in like a pack of wolves.

"You're all really nothing but rats!" Venelana shouted, fury twisting her features.

Xenovia didn't answer. She just kicked her hard in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs.

Venelana stumbled back

Right into Capricorn.

THWAM!

His massive shoulder bashed her clean off her feet.

She hit the ground hard, bouncing off the concrete just in time for Rossweisse to sweep in from the side.

"Here goes—Aqua Javelin!" Rossweisse cried, slamming her palm forward.

A sharp burst of water shot out, spinning into a high-pressure spiral. Venelana fired a counter bullet reflexively, slicing through the water and dispersing it into a storm of mist, but it left her open.

CRACK!

Capricorn landed a punch to her ribs, driving her sideways, right into Lucy's whip, which wrapped around her arm and yanked her off-balance.

It was a relentless, coordinated onslaught.

And now, Rias stood at the center of the closing circle.

Crimson energy swirled at her fingertips again. Her hair floated with static, her wings spread wide. She stepped forward

Then stopped.

Her breath caught.

Venelana, now on one knee, hair disheveled, eyes burning with defiance… looked up at her. And for a moment

Rias saw her mother.

The real one.

The same look of disdain when she skipped etiquette lessons. The sharp, impatient tilt of her head. The strength in her posture.

Now it was only spit with venom.

Rias's hands trembled, her magic faltering at the edges. Her vision blurred, not from tears, but from conflict. Her body wanted to finish it. Her magic was ready.

But her heart

It faltered.

Just long enough for Venelana to notice.

Her eyes narrowed, seizing the hesitation like a blade.

With a violent jerk, she twisted her arm free from Lucy's whip and turned, arm already snapping up, barrel glowing.

The gun was aimed directly at Rias's face.

A single shot. Cold. Precise.

It would've hit her. It would've gone clean through her if not for the pop of an air bubble intercepting it mid-flight, the blast dispersing into a ripple of harmless force.

Lucy's key shimmered in her hand, Antlia beside her, horn drawn back, breathing heavily.

"Piece of shit!" Venelana snarled, turning her full fury now on Lucy.

"My Lady!" Capricorn shouted, stepping in before she could fire again.

"Armor P Full Gattling!"

It was instant.

The bullets hit Capricorn with a shriek of tearing magic, his massive body shielding Lucy entirely—but paying the price. Sparks and blood burst into the air. Blue, luminous, flecked with gold. His body tore apart in flashes, limbs ripped and chest blown through, his form disintegrating into light piece by piece.

"CAPRICORN!" Lucy screamed, stumbling back, hand still clutching his key.

She knew he wouldn't truly die, not in the way humans did but the sight of his body unraveling, protecting her, again… It burned behind her eyes.

Her knees almost gave out.

And Rias… watched.

Frozen.

Her hands still glowed with that familiar crimson heat, but she hadn't moved. Her feet were planted. Her chest heaved.

Venelana turned toward her again.

And she was smirking.

That same smirk, perfectly sculpted, the kind her mother used when she'd won an argument in court. The kind she wore when dismissing petty nobles or correcting Rias in that clipped, clinical tone.

Except now it was warped.

Gleaming with cruelty.

And Rias's stomach turned.

She felt it. Regret, guilt, rage, all knotting inside her ribs like she'd swallowed coals and they were burning through her.

Her eyes didn't just sting, they ached.

She clenched her fists.

"You're not her…" she whispered, trying to convince herself.

But part of her brain—the part that had lived too long in fantasy, in manga, in stories she once read on rainy days—was whispering another possibility.

What if this is sort of a tragic twist of a cosmic joke? 'Isekai to fight your loved ones Counterparts?'

But this wasn't a manga panel.

There was no author with a happy resolution waiting at the end.

So why did her legs still shake?

Why was her heart still screaming 'don't?'

Why did she hesitate even now?

But… she won't hesitate now.

She never would. So… if there was no author to make a happy ending, then she would do it herself.

So Rias screamed, a sound that tore from her throat more raw than magical, more human than hellish and launched herself forward, devil power roaring in her wake.

The ground cracked beneath her feet.

She didn't fly.

She charged.

Each step was confusing.

Wrath. Bitterness. Love she didn't know how to kill.

Tears pooled in her eyes, but none fell.

Venelana's smirk faltered for just a breath, just long enough for Rias to slam into her like a comet, tackling her out of the circle and into the open air. The impact launched both of them several meters, limbs entangled, crimson magic and bullet sparks crackling between them.

They hit the ground hard, Venelana landing flat on her back with a grunt, Rias atop her, already throwing punches before the dust had even cleared.

"Huh?" Xenovia blinked, watching from the edge of the group. "Gremory seems really angry?"

There was no technique now. No elegance. Just claws and fists and breathless, furious noise.

Rias struck with wild, clumsy force—her fists slamming against Venelana's shoulders, arms, jaw. The hits landed, but there was little strength behind them. Her magic flared with each blow, but it was incomplete—like she couldn't fully commit to hurting the woman beneath her.

Venelana noticed.

"You fight like a sissy!" she barked, grabbing a fistful of Rias's hair and yanking her down. "Thought you had some bite!"

"STOP TALKING!" Rias roared, her voice breaking.

She thrashed and clawed, fingers scraping across Venelana's coat and ripping through the fabric. Her nails tore open the outer layer, exposing skin—smooth, unblemished, and entirely too familiar.

Venelana hissed and retaliated.

"Wanna play it that way, huh!?"

She grabbed Rias by the sleeve and ripped it off, shredding the cloth in one savage pull. Rias's right shoulder was bare now, her school uniform half-torn and clinging, the collar askew.

They rolled again,Venelana was on top now only for Rias to hook a leg around hers and throw them sideways. Dust puffed around them as they grappled, their clothes catching on loose brick and jagged pavement, tearing more with each tangle.

It wasn't graceful.

It wasn't strategic.

It was ugly.

Desperate.

Personal.

By the time the others caught up, both women were breathless, scratched, their outfits in tatters. Rias still had the front of her uniform blouse covering her chest, but most of the sleeves and jacket were gone. Venelana's pants were frayed at the sides, her coat reduced to strips clinging to her shoulders, and her once-elegant hat had long since vanished.

"Are you done whining yet?!" Venelana spat, her lip bleeding. "Gonna cry next, princess?"

Rias's fist clenched.

Her body trembled, not from fear, not from exhaustion, but from rage and something worse: grief.

"Stop…" she whispered.

"What was that?" Venelana leaned in, eyes taunting.

Rias surged upward.

No more words.

No more half-swings.

She lunged forward, head tilting down and with a crack of impact, she slammed her forehead right into Venelana's face.

Both of them cried out. Rias from the jolt of pain, Venelana from the force of it.

They separated for just a moment, dazed, blood trickling down their faces.

And Rias, her voice rough and trembling, eyes wide and glassy, screamed:

"STOP TALKING WITH HER FACE!"

The others stood in stunned silence for a breath.

Rossweisse blinked.

Venelana stumbled, the force of Rias's headbutt sending her sprawling backward with a grunt. Her hands slapped the ground behind her to keep from falling flat, but the impact left her dizzy, her body sagging as she tried to push herself upright.

Blood trickled from her nose. Her smirk was gone.

Breath ragged, she blinked the fog from her eyes only to freeze.

A click.

Cold metal against her forehead.

Bisca.

She stood over her, rifle leveled, eyes sharp not cruel, not furious… but disappointed.

"Don't," Bisca said quietly.

Venelana didn't move.

Her breathing slowed, the twitch of her hand halting before it could reach toward a spell or weapon. She looked up, saw the woman she'd once laughed with across bars, the sharpshooter she'd trained beside, shared war stories with.

"This is where it ends," Bisca continued. "Don't make me pull the trigger. Just… stay down."

Venelana's lips parted.

There was no cocky comeback this time. No smug sneer.

Only silence.

Behind Bisca, Lucy knelt beside Rias, pulling her gently away from the dust and rubble. Rias's breaths were ragged, her face flushed with heat, confusion, blood, and emotion she hadn't fully processed. Her blouse hung off one shoulder, her knuckles were red, and her eyes—though fierce—were shimmering.

She looked over at Venelana.

And for the first time, she didn't see her mother at all.

Just a woman who wore her face like a mask.

Venelana's gaze flicked from Bisca to Rias.

Her jaw tightened.

But she didn't rise.

She slumped slowly back to the ground, one hand bracing her ribs, her body broken more by exhaustion than injury.

"Tch," she muttered. "Figures…"

Bisca kept the gun raised a second longer, then slowly lowered it—just enough to let the pressure ease without fully letting her guard down.

"It's over."

________________________________________________________________________________

The street was cordoned off, Rune Knight battalions sweeping through the wreckage like clockwork, their armored boots clinking in rhythm. Light refracted off their cloaks as magical containment circles flared into existence one by one.

In the center of it all, Cana stood with arms crossed and a single card between her fingers, twirling it with practiced ease. She looked… disappointed.

"Here you go," she said, handing over a fanned-out cluster of cards to a waiting Rune Knight. "Everyone who partook, wrapped up neatly."

The cards glowed with containment glyphs, each one pulsing faintly with the essence of those trapped within.

"Where were you?" Xenovia asked, approaching her with a slight edge in her tone.

Cana raised a brow. "I said I was checking out the cave."

"You were gone for most of the fight."

"Yeah, and? There were a few guys in there, but nothing big." Cana shrugged, clearly unimpressed with what she'd faced. "I was hoping to get my hands dirty, but nah. Didn't even break a nail."

Next to her, Levy stepped in, her expression more serious.

"We did get something, though. One of them kept mumbling about a name. Eisenwald. Might be a person or a guild. They didn't say which."

One of the Rune Knights took notes while carefully sealing the cards in reinforced crystal cases.

"That's good enough intel. We'll send someone to your guild to collect a full report."

Meanwhile, a few meters away—beneath the shadow of a collapsed tower—Bisca knelt beside Venelana, who sat on a chunk of concrete with her hands shackled behind her back. Her hair was tousled, dirt smeared across her cheek, and her expression strangely calm now that the fight was over.

Venelana let out a slow exhale.

"This is gonna suck," she muttered, not looking at Bisca.

Bisca snorted. "Yeah, well… you earned it."

Venelana scoffed softly, eyes still on the ground. "Not gonna sugarcoat it, huh?"

"Nope." Bisca leaned her rifle against her shoulder. "You never sugarcoated things for me, remember?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then Bisca's voice shifted—still firm, but laced with something heavier. Regret. Maybe mourning.

"What did you think was gonna happen, Vel? Seriously. You never listened to orders, never listened to me. But I never thought you'd turn into this."

Venelana shrugged, but her shoulders sagged. "I stopped listening because I realized… none of it ever changed anything. Rules. Orders. Loyalty. All it ever got me was stuck under someone else's thumb."

Her eyes flicked up to Bisca—still sharp, but a little more tired.

"This way? At least I chose who I got to be."

Bisca studied her for a moment, frowning. "You didn't have to become someone who tried to harm innocent people."

Venelana gave a bitter smile. "Innocent's a blurry word in this world, Bis."

Bisca's jaw clenched. "Don't twist this. You got caught. Face it."

Venelana didn't argue. She just looked away again, muttering under her breath.

"Still sucks," Venelana said with a laugh—not a cruel one this time, but low and almost wistful. "I remember when we first met. Just two little girls against the country, promising we'd beat the place that threw us away."

Bisca exhaled through her nose. "Yeah. And then we left said place behind the second we almost died."

Venelana smirked. "We wouldn't have lasted long in Alvarez anyway."

Bisca tilted her head. "One thing we both agree on."

There was a pause. Venelana shifted her weight against the concrete slab, wrists still cuffed behind her. She looked past the knot of Rune Knights and Fairy Tail mages, her eyes briefly catching on the group by the edge of the rubble—Rossweisse, Lucy, and a red-haired girl watching from behind.

Rias met her gaze—just for a breath—before turning her head sharply away.

Venelana's voice lowered.

"But still… Are you really happy with something like this?"

Bisca followed her glance.

She saw the way Rias curled her arms tighter around herself, the shadow in her eyes even now.

She saw Lucy gently resting a hand on Rias's back—steady, quiet, no words needed.

"It has its moments," Bisca said. "Moments that are worth it."

She looked down at Venelana, her voice growing a touch warmer.

"The people even more."

Venelana raised an eyebrow.

Bisca hesitated just a second too long—then added with a small, crooked smile:

"There's a slinger back at the guild. New guy. Real quiet. Keeps to himself. But his aim? Might even be better than mine."

There was a beat.

Venelana's mouth fell open in exaggerated horror.

"Oh my god. You're swooning over a boy?!"

Bisca's face instantly flushed, color rushing to her cheeks as she whipped around to look anywhere but at Venelana.

"I'm not swooning!"

"You're blushing!"

"Shut up, you're in handcuffs!"

Venelana leaned back, laughing—not bitter this time, but light and teasing, as if they were still just two cocky girls sneaking out of barracks to shoot cans off fenceposts.

"Stars above… I rot in hell, and you find love. Talk about dramatic timing."

Bisca shook her head, still smiling despite herself.

But the moment couldn't stretch forever.

A Rune Knight officer approached, clipboard in hand and expression firm. "Time's up. She's being transferred to a holding facility for questioning. You can arrange visitation after the formal report's filed."

Bisca gave a short nod, then looked down at Venelana one last time.

"Well… see you around," she said, voice softer now. "And who knows? Maybe once you get out, you can join?"

Venelana snorted, rolling her eyes as the officer gently helped her to her feet. "With that crazy redhead of yours on the squad? You're out of your mind."

Bisca chuckled. "She's not mine."

"Could've fooled me, the way you leapt in when she froze up."

Bisca looked away for a second—just enough to dodge the comment—and then added, casually:

"Speaking of that… have you two ever met before?"

Venelana blinked, her expression neutral. "What, the kid with the fire and the death stare?"

Bisca nodded. "Yeah."

A flicker crossed Venelana's face—something almost unreadable.

Then she shrugged.

"Never met her in my life. I'd remember someone like that."

The officer started leading her away.

Venelana didn't look back.

But Bisca did.

And in the distance, she saw Rias standing quietly, half-turned, her expression unreadable as she watched the whole thing from the edge of the group.

She hadn't come any closer.

But she hadn't left either.

The Fairy Tail guildhall buzzed with life again. Papers rustled as quests were sorted, drinks clinked on tables, and the sound of familiar laughter and magic-infused gossip filled the space.

Most of the group had returned from the mission and were now gathering around to debrief with Master Makarov.

"Where's Rias?" Kunou asked, tail flicking anxiously as she looked around the room. Her ears twitched in concern. "I haven't seen her since you all got back."

"She went home," Levy answered, not looking up from the notes she was writing. "Said she didn't feel well on the way back. Lucy went with her."

Kunou's ears drooped a little. "Oh…"

"I really wonder what made her act like that today," Rossweisse said, her tone thoughtful. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "It wasn't just the fight. Something got to her."

She stood suddenly, brushing off her coat.

"I should check on her. Just to make sure."

As she turned to leave, Levy glanced up.

"Oh? Well, bye, Rossweisse. And, um… sorry?"

Rossweisse paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. "Huh?"

Levy hesitated, fingers tapping lightly on the table.

"Back when we first went to that village, before all the bigger stuff started, I kind of… left you behind. I am a huge fan of literature. I didn't mean to ditch you, but I wanted to say sorry. I really love Zelon's work, and I got a little caught up."

Rossweisse blinked.

Then she laughed. A quiet, dry chuckle, but not unkind.

"Thanks, I really like that, think we can continue where we left off?."

Levy winced. "Yeah…that's fair."

"But," Rossweisse added, turning back to face her, "thanks for saying it. Most people wouldn't even bring that kind of thing up."

Levy smiled, a little sheepish.

Rossweisse gave her a short nod, then stepped toward the doors.

"I'll let you know how she's doing."

As the door closed behind her, the warmth of the guildhall buzzed on.

But outside, the clouds were gathering again.

Cana sat slumped against the side of the bar, a fresh bottle tilted lazily in her hand. The small pile of empties clinked quietly against each other, stacked around her like a careless tribute, at least ankle high now. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes unfocused. Her laughter had stopped a few drinks ago.

Now it was just silence, and a low humming tension that anyone close enough could feel.

Mirajane leaned against the bar, wiping her hands on a towel, watching Cana carefully. She knew this Cana. The version that drank not for fun, not for flair but to numb.

"Alright, Cana," Mira said gently, stepping out from behind the bar. "I think you've had enough for today."

Cana just grunted in response, not looking up. She raised the bottle to her lips and drained the rest in one slow chug, like it might stop something from reaching the surface.

Mirajane sighed.

She knelt down next to her friend, resting a light hand on her arm.

"Cana… you should stop looking."

Her voice was quiet. Not judgmental. Just tired. Familiar.

"It's been two years."

The bottle in Cana's hand wobbled slightly, her grip unsteady. But she didn't let go.

Mirajane continued, eyes soft. "I know you wish to see them again, I know I do too, but you should-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Cana said, voice hoarse and slurred.

Mirajane stopped.

Cana stared ahead at nothing, her expression unreadable through the haze of alcohol and grief.

"If I stop looking, it means they're really gone," she murmured. "That I turned my back on them. I'm the first one in our generation, I should keep on doing this. Just…I can't stop."

Mirajane didn't reply immediately.

She just sat there with her, in the quiet between bottles.

The sound of laughter, music, and clinking glasses from the rest of the guild faded around them like distant waves. The warmth of Fairy Tail surrounded them, but for Cana, it didn't quite reach.

Not tonight.

"You should be out there," Cana slurred, her words slow but bitter. "I wasn't the only one who survived the S-Class Trials."

She tipped her head back, eyes distant. "Even then, there were survivors who didn't even show up until a year later from its destruction. That bitch Karen from Blue Pegasus was one."

Mirajane didn't flinch, but her gaze sharpened.

Yes. Cana was right about that.

The S-Class Trials that year hadn't been like any other.

Held during the anniversary of the formation of magic guilds, it was meant to be a celebration. A chance to bring all guilds together both big and small for one massive, collaborative test of strength, spirit, and unity.

It should have been the perfect trial.

It was the event that finally pushed Cana to earn her S-Class title.

But it was also the day the mountain cracked open.

Mirajane clenched her jaw and pulled herself back from that memory, from the smell of scorched stone and the names never recovered.

"I understand," she said quietly. "But they wouldn't want you doing this to yourself, Cana. That's why we have to live with the pieces they left us."

Cana let out a rough laugh. A bitter bark that didn't reach her eyes.

"Heh. Ironic."

Her expression twisted, and her voice rose.

"You talk about cherishing what's left, when you only got a little piece of one in that little crib you keep staring at. And it ain't from your sister!"

Mirajane's breath caught, the words landing like a slap.

Cana leaned forward, glassy eyes sharp now. Too sharp.

"You think this makes you good? Makes you right? All this nice girl stuff, you think it hides anything!?"

Her fist slammed down on the counter, shattering the bottle she'd been holding. Glass skittered across the floor. Guild members turned startled, worried.

Mirajane stayed still.

"Wearing your pretty dresses, smiling like it's natural, taking care of the half-dead guy who sleeps through dinner, helping lost cats and crying kids. You think that makes you Lisanna?"

Tears were falling freely now, dripping from Cana's chin to the floor.

"You don't deserve her! You know you don't! So you pretend. You act. Because it's easier to appeal to that brat you popped out!"

"CANA, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Elfman's voice cut through the noise like thunder. He stormed forward, his fists clenched, protective fury in his eyes.

But Cana didn't move to defend herself.

She just kept sobbing, words crumbling now, thick with grief and slurring into incomprehension.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Tense. Even the music had stopped.

Gray appeared quietly at her side. No fanfare. No magic.

Just understanding.

"Sorry, Mira," he said gently, slipping one arm under Cana's. "I'll take her home."

Mirajane nodded once. Her hands trembled only slightly as she picked up the shards of glass with a rag.

As Gray led Cana out, her head slumped, her voice no longer more than a whisper as she muttered something Mirajane couldn't quite hear.

But what she said laid heavy in the air.

And for the first time in a long while, Mirajane didn't smile.

Kunou's ears flicked uneasily as the guild settled back into a strained quiet.

"What… was that about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Cana was… yelling. And crying. Was it about Mirajane?"

Sitting beside her at the long bench, Sento leaned back with a soft sigh, resting one arm on the table. He reached over and ruffled her hair gently.

"Don't know all the details. But it's not something to poke around at right now." His voice was calm, but firm. "Best not to dwell too much, fox-ears. It'll pass. It always does."

Kunou frowned, unconvinced. But she nodded.

Across the table, Levy had gone quiet too. Her eyes lingered on the door Cana and Gray had disappeared through, worry knitting her brows.

"Sorry you had to hear that," she said to Kunou. "It's not… something we talk about often."

A pause.

Then Levy blinked, a realization clicking behind her eyes.

"Oh. That's probably why Cana wanted to organize that girls' trip in the first place."

Kunou tilted her head. "Can you fill me in? Seemed pretty serious." Sento asked.

Levy glanced between them, hesitating for a moment. Then she leaned in just a little, voice dropping.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard about it yet. You may've only been in the guild a week, but… it was big news. Countrywide."

________________________________________________________________________________

Mirajane and Elfman were walking back to their house.

"Listen Mira what Cana said wasn't-"

"No, it's all right, she's not wrong anyway."

"BUT!-"

"Elf…" Mirajane said, looking towards her brother, a calm and gentle look clear as day on her face. Her voice mirrored her face. "She had a point about how I haven't forgiven myself, for both what happened and what came from it."

They reached their house, Mirajane grabbed her keys and opened it. Once they entered, they heard a noise approaching them from upstairs. It was a woman, black hair at shoulder length. Wearing a simple yellow shirt and jeans, a purse slung over her shoulder.

"Hey, you guys are back earlier than usual."

"Yeah, thank you Roxy, I really appreciate your help, and sorry for taking you away from the guild." Mirajane said regretfully, a few jewels in her hand.

Elfman joined in on the short conversation. "Yeah Roxy, you've been a real man today." Surprisingly it went without his usual bravado

"Nah, it's alright, guild life just ain't for me. Besides, it's nice watching the little one. Though, I haven't gotten her to sleep yet ."

"It's ok, thank you once again."

"Sure, bye Mira! Bye Elf!" Roxy said as she left their home heading back to her own house.

"What a nice girl, she is the perfect girl to marry! What do you think?

Elfman blushed at his sister's teasing. "We-we-we'll I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, if that were the case then it would be me doing the caring, because I'm a real man!"

"Alright, alright." Mira said giving up on the ordeal. "Well, I'll be turning in early, I'm not feeling really hungry for dinner."

"Go on ahead, I'll fix something up. Good night sis."

"Good night Elfman."

And with that they both went their separate ways. Elfman went to the kitchen to make a manly dinner and Mirajane went on to her room.

Or rather what's next to her room.

The door creaked open with the hush of reverence, as though even the hinges understood the sanctity of what lay beyond. A gentle pink glow bathed the room, the soft hue warming the walls like a sunrise held in place. Tiny stars—painted, stickered, some softly glowing—were scattered across every surface: drifting along the ceiling like constellations, dotting the walls in uneven patterns, some clustered like galaxies above the crib.

And at the very center of it all, nestled in a pale birch crib with rounded edges and tiny moons carved into the posts, sat the child.

She was humming to herself, little hands wrapped around the rails as she swayed slightly with the rhythm. Her hair was the color of white roses, feathery and soft, glinting in the light like moonlight caught on silk. Her skin was warm brown, sun-kissed, rich with life—and her wide, curious eyes lit up the moment she saw her mother step inside.

Mirajane's breath hitched.

She clutched the doorframe for a moment, steadying herself not because she was unsure, but because the wave of love that hit her was so immense, so sudden, that it momentarily stole her balance. This room—it was everything she'd never dared to hope for. Everything she knows she didn't … never deserved.

The little girl giggled, her tiny voice bubbling up like a spring, arms reaching out with innocent expectation. The mother stepped forward slowly, the floorboards sighing beneath her weight, her eyes never leaving the miracle before her.

She dropped to her knees beside the crib, one hand reaching through the bars to brush the child's cheek. The toddler leaned into the touch instinctively, and the woman smiled—soft, trembling, aching at the edges.

"You're so perfect," she whispered. "So much more than I ever thought I could hold."

The child clutched her finger tightly, strong and sure.

For a fleeting second, a shadow passed over her features. That night, blurred, wild, spun out of control. It lingered behind her eyes. She and Lisanna. Along with Natsu. Too much laughter, too many drinks at the S class exams when they were celebrating from passing the previous trials. The final trial was so insurmountable that the Master and the others gave them all a day's rest. A moment of carelessness, she noticed how close they got to one another.

Being who she once was, she couldn't stand how some little brat got so cozy with her precious little sister. So in her drunken state, went on to 'go and see his worth.' Oh how horrible she was, to do that to her own sister!

And worse of all, she only remembered the day after that thing no. That BEAST came and took them all away, except a lucky few.

And now? Neither of them—neither of the people who should've known—ever did. And they never would.

She exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead to the crib rail.

"I'm so sorry for you Chloe." she murmured. "For how you came into this world. For my sin you'll hopefully never need to carry. I'll be the mother you should've had."

But when she looked up, her daughter's gaze was nothing but clear. Unburdened. Forgiving in the way only the innocent can be. The pink walls held them gently. And in that room, in that moment, regret softened beneath the weight of love—a love that grew despite it all.

A love that would never leave her again.