📅 July 4, X791
📍 Mercurius Castle and the Streets of Crocus
The moon watched Crocus from high above like an unsleeping sentinel, its silver glow draping the city's rooftops and casting long, wavering shadows across silent streets. The distant echoes of the Grand Magic Games still pulsed faintly—laughter drifting, drunken songs murmuring—but beneath the surface, the city trembled with something older. A tension coiled under pavement and wall, sleeping until the right moment to awaken.
Inside Mercurius Castle, just beyond the throne room, three Dragon Slayers stood in stillness heavy with unspoken warnings. Natsu's fists were clenched so tightly that embers curled and vanished on his skin. Gajeel leaned against the cold stone, arms crossed, eyes tight and watchful. Wendy hovered at the archway, hand to chest, breath shallow and trembling in fear of what she sensed.
From deeper in the corridor came muted voices—Lucy, Mirajane, Arcadios, Princess Hisui, even Future Lucy's soft breathing. Their presence offered comfort and purpose, but the air around the Dragon Slayers felt charged with something else.
Wendy shivered. Her eyes widened as she turned toward the high arched window at the corridor's end. A faint metal taste seemed to cloud her breath.
"This magic…" she whispered. "It feels… heavy. Like something's pressing down on my lungs."
Gajeel's eyes cracked open fully, his expression sharp. "Yeah. There's pressure in the air—thick like iron. Cold as steel."
He pushed off the wall, iron glinting along his arm without intent. "Feels like a predator's sizing us up."
Natsu sniffed, breath turning slow and steady. His eyes flickered amber—then ignited with flame.
"I feel it too. Like a dragon watching from the shadows."
His glare shot toward the distant window where moonlight danced on glass. "It's like… being stared down by a beast."
Outside on the balcony above stood Teresa—still as marble in moonlight, her armor polished, cloak sweeping behind her like winter's breath. Her Requipped sword was removed, perhaps for comfort, but her posture remained unwavering. The black Fairy Tail emblem marked her back like an emblem of stillness and resolve.
Though separated by stone and stories, she sensed their shift. The Dragon Slayers' instincts pulsed like markers in dark waters—their power responded to her presence, ancient dragon blood stirring at her touch. That subtle acknowledgment made a ghost of amusement flicker at her lips.
"So even instinct recognizes me," she murmured low, hand drifting to the cool railing beneath her fingers.
Back in the hallway, Wendy stumbled forward. Natsu caught her by the waist, eyes blazing with protective fire.
"I… I can't move right," she gasped. "My magic feels... swallowed."
Gajeel's jaw clenched. "It's her. That woman. She's not human."
Natsu slammed a fist against the stone wall, blister crawling beneath his knuckles. "If she's trying to scare us—she can shove it!" His flames flared, heat spreading across the corridor.
Nearby, Future Lucy stared up through tears of confusion at their intensity. "Who… is she?" she asked, voice breaking. "In my future…I didn't know anyone like her."
Lucy knelt beside her, gentle and serious. "You wouldn't. She wasn't there."
Future Lucy frowned. "Then… she's a shadow broken from time. A blade without echo."
Outside, across the balcony's curve, Teresa heard the words. The sentence sliced clean through the air, straight into memory.
"A blade without echo…"
So concise. So isolating.
Her faint smile slipped. She pressed her fingers to the railing—her inner tautness breaking with tremor she rarely allowed. Not scorn. Not vanity. Something more primal: an ache at the absence of a bond.
"Perhaps," she murmured, "the purest description yet."
She lingered longer, eyes dark, distant. Then she turned, pale hair drifting. The whispering wind carried away her silhouette into the castle's labyrinth.
In the corridor, Natsu exhaled. The fire in his chest receded. The tremor of instability remained—but tension yielded to purpose.
Wendy nodded slowly, fingers still shaking. "We stick together. We trust each other more than ever."
Natsu gave a slow, honest nod. "Yeah… you're right."
Lucy looked at Future Lucy. "You're with us now. Even if the future you remember fades, we'll make something new."
Future Lucy bowed her head. "Thank you. Even if I vanish when this is done… I'm grateful I saw you like this—for real."
The faint glow of remorse and renewal glinted in her eyes.
Above, the moonlit figure paused. Teresa assessed the group below—different times, same resolve, voices entwined instead of severed. She inhaled the thick warmth seeping through the walls, tempered by fear and hope.
"They tremble… and still burn," she thought. Beyond curiosity lay envy—quiet, painful, honest.
Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smile—unsent, unexpected.
Then she faded into darkness.
Beneath the city, gears turned. Messages flashed across noble districts. Rune Knights mobilized. On every square, citizens felt the ancient hum of fraying magic, as though the old bones of Crocus stirred under silent invocation.
The streets glimmered with unsteady rune lights. Somewhere far beneath the palace, the Eclipse Gate pulsed, breath drawn. Stars overhead flickered like signals between fractured worlds.
Within the corridor, Dragon Slayers and allies stood firm. The weight pressed down—but none bowed.
For in that moment, the tremor meant not endings, but heralded resolve.
They had each other.
And in the unrest beneath—and the gate growing hungry—they would endure.
Tonight was no lull before chaos. It was the heartbeat of defiance.
And somewhere behind the portal's looming crack was time itself, waiting to be rewritten—or destroyed by echo and choice.