Chapter Text
The blonde moved swiftly through the bustling crowd, her expression taut with urgency. Her eyes scanned every face, every alleyway, the spark of fear in them growing brighter with each heartbeat. She was searching for something – or rather someone.
Someone who might already be too far ahead.
Around her, Magnolia's citizens remained oblivious. Their lives continued as if the city weren’t on the brink of devastation. A few spared her irritated glances, recognizing the Fairy Tail emblem on her right hand and dismissing her rush as just another one of their episodes.
They’d grown up with this guild, after all. Having had the guild in their town for several generations already. Their market days had always been peppered with minor explosions and mages careening through fruit stands. For them, this was a normal day of the week, a regular occurrence and part of their life.
Some even recognized her specifically and offered warm, familiar greetings: a “Good to see you, Lucy!” here, a wave there. Any other day, she would’ve stopped, smiled and exchanged pleasantries.
But not today. Not when lives, innocent ones at that, were at stake.
Scumbags, absolute scumbags!
Her jaw clenched as she shoved through the crowd, mind spiralling back to the confrontation in Begonia Square. The sting of the woman’s voice still echoed in Lucy’s ears – mocking, venomous, gleeful in her cruelty. She and her group, Invigo, weren’t just aiming to settle a score, they were aiming to leave a scar on the city itself. Get them where it would hurt most.
And all of this, over a lost mission? A single defeat? Years back?
It was laughable if it weren’t so cruel.
And worse they seemed to see it as their personal right to get revenge at all cost.
Fairy Tail took pride in defending the wronged. Vengeance wasn’t foreign to them, whether it was for a civilian or a wronged comrade. They would do everything in their power to take revenge, bringing no mercy. But never – under any circumstances – did the guild condone to violence against civilians or innocents.
And this was exactly what they had planned: retaliation not with strength or courage, but with cowardice and chaos. Civilians as pawns, bombs planted where families gathered, fear used as a weapon.
A knot of rage coiled in Lucy’s stomach. She pushed harder through the throng, eyes sweeping the colorful chaos of the farmer’s market.
Vibrant canopies flapped above stalls lined with goods, their fabric dancing in the summer breeze and paper lanterns swayed gently, casting playful shadows across cobblestones. The air was thick with the smell of grilled fish and fresh bread. Children’s laughter chimed through the street, mingling with the calls of vendors and the steady murmur of people milling between booths.
To her right, a sunny yellow stall stretched down the block, the scent of sizzling meat curling around the long line of waiting customers – children, grandparents, couples holding hands. Lucy barely spared it a glance, though her chest twisted. She could practically see Natsu and Happy shoving their way to the front, mouths watering, hands already reaching for skewers.
This could all vanish in an instant.
They’ll hit places like this, she thought grimly. Places where it’ll hurt.
Her instincts screamed louder than ever. The most likely targets were those with the most foot traffic. The church in the city’s center, the train station, the streets of the market – their destruction would echo across the city. Not just causing damage but also sending a message. A message they were all too eager to carve into the city.
Lucy picked up her pace, weaving between shoppers with apologetic mutters, ducking past a cart of oranges and then breaking into a faster jog as soon as the crowd thinned. She was just about to veer into a side alley to shorten her route towards the imposing church in the cities center when a scream tore through the air. Her head snapped toward the sound and she slid to a halt, her breath catching in her throat.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
A small group of children, none older than twelve, stood clustered at the edge of an alley, eyes wide. At their feet lay the twisted body of a large rat – its fur matted and chest grotesquely split open. But it wasn’t the gore that chilled her.
It was the blinking light nestled deep in the creature’s chest, pulsing in rhythmic intervals from its body.
One of the “little presents”.
Lucy’s stomach dropped and not a second later she was sprinting. “Move!” She barked, urgency sharp in her voice as she darted forward. “All of you, get behind me!”
The kids flinched at her voice but obeyed. Lucy positioned herself in front of them, her stance protective and shielding while her gaze flicked from their pale faces to the rat’s body. Her breath quickened as she crouched to inspect them quickly for wounds.
“Are you all alright?” She asked, her voice tight with concern but steady enough to reassure. “Did anyone touch it?”
A round-faced girl in a pink hoodie gave a shaky nod, clutching the sleeve of the boy next to her. “We didn’t! I promise - we just saw it!”
Lucy exhaled, tension loosening slightly from her shoulders.
“I’m Lucy,” She said quickly, crouching slightly to meet them at eye level. “a mage from Fairy Tail. Can one of you tell me when you found the rat?”
The oldest-looking boy - green-haired and wiry – perked up at her words. “You’re really from Fairy Tail?” His eyes lit up like someone had set a firework off behind them. “Whoa! That’s so cool!”
Lucy offered a strained smile.
“Like, for real? Do you know Natsu and Erza and Laxus and them?” Another kid asked, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. A chorus of whispers broke out among the group, full of names she knew well, spoken with awe.
They were still kids, after all.
The boy from earlier puffed up his chest, clearly eager to impress. “We were playing hide-and-seek. I was winning, obviously,” he added smugly, “and Douglas found the rat. Screamed like a girl, too.”
“I did not!” Snapped the youngest – a short, round-cheeked blond boy. He scowled, arms folded, and his cheeks puffed in indignation. “I just yelled a little. Normal yelling.”
“Normal?” The older boy snorted. “You nearly fell over. We thought a ghost got you!”
“Did not!”
“You did too!”
Lucy almost laughed. Gods, he looked so offended, with his chubby cheeks flushed and his scowl so serious. For a moment, the overwhelming urge to ruffle his hair and call him brave swept over her but the blinking light in her peripheral pulled her back quickly.
Before she could speak the older boy continued, his expression growing slightly more serious. “We thought it was just, y’know… gross. A dead rat. But then it started blinking, like… like the stuff at magic circuses. Right before the fireworks go boom.” He sounded more impressed than frightened.
Lucy’s pulse quickened. They had no idea how much danger they were in.
I need to get them away from here, fast. But if I scare them, they’ll panic.
She straightened and took a deep breath, forcing her expression into something calm. Normally Lucy used tricks like this on way younger children, but sometimes this even worked on Natsu and Happy – not saying that, at least mentally, they weren’t – so it was worth a shot.
“Hey,” She said, voice lowering conspiratorially, “do you think you could help me with something?”
Instantly all their heads snapped up. The green-haired boy’s chest puffed out again and Douglas blinked eagerly, practically bouncing.
Lucy gave them a warm, reassuring smile. “So, here is the deal. I’ve got a bit of a problem right now. I need to get everyone off the streets and back into their homes, but I also need to stay here… and keep am eye on that rat.” She motioned to the rat carcass, then gestured towards the crowd beyond the alley. “Think you could handle that for me? I need people who are fast, clever and brave.“
The children nodded enthusiastically, their faces lighting up with determination.
“Totally!” Said the green-haired boy, nearly saluting.
“We’re on it!” Douglas added quickly, his earlier pout forgotten.
“Leave it to us, Miss Lucy!” the little girl in the hoodie chirped, already grabbing one of the others by the wrist.
And like that, they scattered – racing off into the crowd, ducking between legs and shouting cheerful warnings as they went. Lucy watched them go, heart aching and grateful all at once.
With a steadying breath, she turned back to the rat carcass.
One problem down. Now for the other.
Her fingers brushed over the smooth metal of her keys, each one warm with familiar presence. “Any of you equipped for stopping an explosion?“ She asked quietly, letting her magic thread gently into the keys.
Communicating with her spirits just through their keys was something she’d been working on for a while now. At first, she had only been successful with three of her spirits; Grandpa Crux, Loke and Virgo – four if she counted Plue, though his answers usually came in enthusiastic waggles and “puu-puun”s.
She suspected that it was related to their ability to pass through their gates freely, the ones as attune to her emotions as her magic. So, she had worked with her other spirits on that exact ability with rather modest results. Only three of her other zodiac keys – Gemini, Capricorn and Cancer – had been able to appear by their own will. For her silver keys it looked even poorer with only Horologium being able to come and go freely.
Luckily a tip from Capricorn to simply open their gates a small gap had helped her onto the right path. Over time, they had worked on using less and less magic for it. And now, with focus and just a whisper of magic, Lucy could communicate with them without having to drain the magic needed for a full summon.
A soft hum stirred in her mind, followed by the faint, familiar tick-tick of gears sliding into place.
“Miss Lucy,” Horologium’s voice echoed in her head, calm and polite as ever. “I regret to inform you that the only celestial spirit you are currently contracted to with the ability to directly neutralize an explosion... is on vacation and unavailable for summon.”
Lucy blinked and there was a brief pause before he continued. “While there exist constellations possessing such abilities – such as Scutum, Antlia, or Mensa – they are either contracted to another summoner or remain unclaimed, their keys scattered across the continents of Earthland.”
The information hit her in two waves - first, disappointment. But then... curiosity. Part of her felt the flicker of excitement at the idea of other keys and unexplored potential, somewhere out there, just waiting for the right mage to find them – but that did little to help her now. Not with the dead rat blinking beside her feet. And the other bombs they had placed throughout Magnolia.
Lucy’s fingers hovered over Aries’ key. There was always the option to just summon her. She knew that the ram wouldn’t just ignore her call for help, but the gentle spirit had never once asked for a break in all their years together. And this one time, Aries had finally requested a few vacation days. A vacation she had earned.
She bit her lip, torn between obligation and loyalty. I could summon her anyway. She’d come. Without hesitation. But even thinking it made her stomach twist.
Before she could dwell on the decision, Horologium’s deep, resonant voice echoed from within his key.
“However,” He continued. “as the young Miss may recall, celestial magic is... diverse in application. While direct interventions from our realm may be limited, offensive and defensive spells are available to special individuals deemed worthy by the Celestial Spirit King. Summoners of high privilege may even channel the power of the Zodiac spirits for their own use.”
“The star-dresses…” Lucy murmured.
Her hand drifted unconsciously to the chain around her neck, fingers brushing against the broken remains of Aquarius’s key, edges worn smooth from frequent touch.
As if understanding where her thoughts had gone Horologium’s tone gentled. “That connection granted access to divine resonance – one not easily broken, nor replicated. It was... an irreversible transaction, but it opened a new conduit within you. One unique to your soul. You have grown, Miss Lucy.”
A pang rippled through her at the mention of Aquarius. No matter how much time passed, the ache didn’t dull. Not completely. Losing Aquarius had felt like losing a part of herself – like something had shattered clean through her ribs and never quite healed right. It had hurt her the same way her mother’s death had.
She still dreamed of her sometimes. Of turbulent water and impossible strength. Of kindness hidden in impatience. Of love, hard-earned and fiercely given. Now, the only time she felt truly close to her anymore was when she donned Aquarius’ star dress. Wrapped in the last remnants of the Water Bearer’s magic – the final gift she had left behind – sharp, cold and alive. A feeling that had comforted her through many tearful nights in Crocus.
The loss had scarred her – but it had also changed her. Given her something more.
Aquarius’s sacrifice had opened a door. One that allowed Lucy to stop relying on her spirits to protect her. One that pushed her past one of her oldest fears: that without them, she was powerless. That she was nothing.
That fear had clawed at her during Fairy Tail’s disbandment. There were nights when loneliness wrapped around her ribs like chains, and silence became a cruel reminder that everything she loved had scattered.
She had thrown herself into modeling and later editing gigs – anything to stay busy, anything to stay useful. It was serving as a distraction from the resentment and hurt that had built. But it had never been enough. Not really.
Her spirits, though, had stayed.
Her magic had stayed.
They had never abandoned her.
They were her anchor, holding onto the light for her when she had no longer been willing to. And sometimes she thought that had she not had her spirits and this new magic to master she might’ve fallen into a far deeper hole.
She looked down at her keys once more – at the gold and silver that had been with her through everything. Her thumb slid over the splintered edge of Aquarius’s key, the shard pressing into her skin, grounding her.
She exhaled slowly and another voice stirred gently in her mind, old and patient.
“In the diary you encountered yesterday,” Came the slow scholarly cadence of Grandpa Crux. “lies a concealed incantation that permits sealing off objects within an indestructible barrier.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes, recalling the battered, leather-bound volume sitting on her apartment desk. “The one Levy gave me yesterday? I haven’t had time to look into it yet. I thought it was just… a family heirloom.”
When she’d flipped through it briefly in the guild there had just been elegant diary entries or stylized drawings of celestial spirits, and one full-page portrait of a striking brown-haired woman that she hadn’t lingered on for more than a heartbeat. She’d realized the subject was entirely naked before she even finished registering the facial features. Her cheeks had flared and she’d slammed the book shut with an embarrassed yelp.
Definitely not something to look at in public.
“Not exactly young Miss. While it may seem like just a diary at first, there are secret spells engraved in some of the book’s pages. I stumbled upon them by accident. Had I not served under Lady Eleanor myself, I would not have noticed her handiwork. She always had a predilection for hiding things in plain sight…“ He trailed off for a moment, murmuring to himself as if lost in memories.
That kind of trickery reminded Lucy of her first real mission with Natsu; stealing that book from Duke Everlue. A smile crossed her face and a slight warmth spread through her. That mission had brought Virgo into her life and had been the start of everything.
Her moment of nostalgia was cut short when Crux’s voice returned, clearer now and she made a mental note to look into the diary later on.
“I have conferred with the Celestial Spirit King. His Majesty has granted me permission to transfer the knowledge of the barrier spell to you – but under a singular condition.”
Lucy tensed. Time was slipping away, and if her guess was right the next bomb was due to detonate in under three minutes. “And that would be?”
“That you finish an errand for him.”
She nodded, confused on why this transfer of seemingly simple knowledge brought such harsh conditions. “I’ll do it. But what exactly is that errand?”
“That,” Crux replied gently, “I am not permitted to reveal yet. His Majesty was quite insistent. But do not worry young Miss you will know soon enough. Now for the spell…”
He instructed her to lay her fingers on his key and gently pour some of her magic into it.
A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her skull, quick and blinding. Her face twisted, breath hitching but before she could cry out, it was over. She staggered slightly, then froze. The knowledge was there. In her mind. Fully formed and crystalline – like she'd always known it. The sensation was uncanny, like a familiar song she hadn’t realized she remembered.
It was a quite intricate spell and had she not spend so much time with Freed huddled over old manuscripts of seals and runes, she would have been at a loss of what to do. Luckily, this wasn’t her first time handling magic above her pay grade.
While she may have been excelling in decoding and erasing runes, she wasn’t quite as good as Freed or Levy in casting spells. But smaller ones she could handle without a doubt, so the size of her target was welcome.
First, she needed to define the containment field. The smaller the radius, the stronger the seal.
She moved quickly. Fingers glowing, she traced the outer symbols in luminous arcs across the cobblestones. Then, concentrating, she sketched the central rune – an unfamiliar spiral – directly above the rat’s body. The moment she completed the final stroke, the runes ignited, first white, then red and out of caution, she took a step back. The rats body began to expand. Skin split down the middle as its abdomen swelled unnaturally, fur stretching tight across rupturing tissue and with a wet, tearing sound it burst.
The explosion hit the barrier like a meteor.
Blood and viscera splattered against the invisible walls, spreading in sickening streaks across the dome. Pulverized bone rattled inside like shrapnel, tiny shards lodging into the seal’s surface with dull, metallic thunks. A chunk of spine struck with enough force to leave a spiderweb crack in the magical field. The impact of the explosion gouged a crater beneath the rat’s remains, sending shockwaves up Lucy’s legs and forcing her to stumble back another step.
Her ears rang and the coppery tang of blood was sharp in her nose. She stared in stunned silence, chest rising and falling.
That… had been one bomb.
Just one.
She swallowed hard, a cold pit forming in her stomach. If that had gone off in the market… if those kids had still been there…
She shut the thought down quickly. She couldn’t afford it, not now.
Erza was still fighting the other four members of Invigo – the same vermin who had helped orchestrate all of this. Lucy knew them. They weren’t especially powerful, but they were ruthless, dirty fighters. Cowards who clung to every advantage they could steal. She’d seen what they were capable of.
And so, despite everything, a flicker of worry clawed at her.
Erza was strong, frighteningly so. But even someone as formidable as her wasn’t invincible.
Still, dwelling on that fear wouldn’t help. Lucy shoved the thought aside with practiced precision. Erza would pull through – because that’s what she always did.
Besides she had her own task to focus on: finding the other bombs.
She couldn’t just trust her luck to stumble upon them per accident as she did with the last one. A map or general direction of their location would be ideal.
She bit her lip and then slid her hand over her keys – a nervous habit Lucy had picked up some time ago – stopping at a particular one. Her lips curved into a smile. “Hey… it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
The key shimmered in her hand, and in a soft flash of golden light, a waist high, winged creature appeared before her; round bodied, gleaming downy feathers and a softly glowing compass embedded on its head.
“Pyxis.” She greeted softly, her voice full of affection. She hadn’t called on it for way too long.
“Piku-!” The spirit chirped, spinning once mid-air in greeting before dropping to the ground. It gave a proud little wiggle, beak clicking as it tilted its head to peer up at her.
Lucy reached out and gently stroked the feathers on its head. “Think you can do more than just give directions this time? I need the exact locations of these bombs. You allowed to do that?”
She felt hesitance over Pyxis‘ bond but then the bird nodded. It extended its wings toward the key in Lucy’s hand, gesturing for it. The moment its feathers brushed the key a radiant golden light flared to life, bursting through the alley she was in and causing her to momentarily close her eyes. When she looked again, Pyxis was holding a blank white card between its wings. Slowly, shimmering lines of blue ink began to crawl across its surface, forming winding streets and clustered rooftops: Magnolia, drawn in exquisite detail.
Lucy watched with interest as the compass on Pyxis head started to spin rapidly and then still the next second. With precise motions the spirit pointed to a small spring near the town center. The location glowed gold, and a shimmering cross marked the spot. Pyxis repeated this process six more times till seven locations were transcribed on the map.
Finished, the spirit scuttled toward her and placed the map in her hand with a happy chirp and a sharp little salute. Lucy laughed softly, her heart swelling with affection. “You did amazing. Thank you…”
She reached out and patted the compass gently. It gave a delighted hop in response, followed by a trill of happy chirping before Pyxis vanished in a burst of warm light, its work done. The warmth of its magic lingered a moment longer, like sunlight on her skin.
She tightened her grip on the map and turned on her heel, heading back toward the main road.
Now there were only seven left to go. Not a really comforting thought… but it was something.
“Miss Lucy,” Came Horologiums formal voice, interrupting the steady rhythm of her steps. “Pyxis requests the young Miss be informed that the enchantment upon the map shall expire in precisely twenty-five minutes, so you should hurry. Furthermore, does it report that, in accordance with the terms of its contract and celestial law, it will be unable to render additional aid for a period of no less than twelve days due to magical overextension.”
Lucy nodded, mentally sending a wave of gratitude back through their bond. “Got it. Please thank Pyxis for me.”
She pulled the map open again, changing her course to the nearest location: the orphanage.
“Twenty-five minutes,” She murmured to herself. “No time to waste.”