The year was X788.
The winds of Tenrou Island were warm, carrying the scent of sea salt and ancient magic. The great Tenrou Tree stood as it always had, a silent sentinel watching over the passing generations of Fairy Tail mages.
This year, the island had once again become a battlefield. The S-Class Mage Promotion Trial had concluded only an hour ago. The air was still thick with the residual ozone of lightning, the scorch marks of fire, and the twisted metal of battle.
"Gihi!" A raspy, metallic laugh echoed through the clearing near the base of the Great Tree. "Finally! It's about time the Council recognized true power! The era of the Iron Dragon is here!"
Gajeel Redfox stood with his arms crossed, his iron-studded body battered and bruised, but his grin wide enough to split his face. He wore the vest that marked him as the newest S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail. Beside him, Pantherlily was bandaging a cut on his arm, nodding with solemn pride.
"You got lucky, Metal-Head," Natsu Dragneel grumbled from where he was sitting on a root, nursing a swollen cheek. "If the trial was just about punching stuff, I would have won three years ago!"
"Aye," Happy sighed, eating a fish. "But the Master said you have to use your brain, Natsu. You tried to solve the 'Riddle of the Silent Cave' by shouting at the stalactites until they broke."
Gray Fullbuster, sitting next to Natsu (and shirtless, despite the jungle humidity), groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't remind me. I can't believe I lost points on 'Critical Analysis of Magical Ethics.' Who puts a written exam in the middle of a monster hunt?"
"Winners adapt, losers make excuses," Gajeel sneered, puffing out his chest.
The guild had seen a surge in elite power over the last three years.
In X785, Freed Justine had finally ascended, his mastery of Jutsu Shiki proving insurmountable in tactical warfare.
In X786, Brandish μ—Laxus's formidable partner—had swept the competition, her size-altering magic making the trials laughably easy for her.
In X787, Juvia Lockser had shocked everyone with a display of sheer, terrifying dedication (mostly fueled by her desire to stand on equal ground with Gray), claiming the title.
And now, in X788, the Iron Dragon Slayer had joined the ranks.
"You all fought well," Master Makarov said, walking into the clearing with his cane. He looked older, but his eyes were bright. "The S-Class title is not just about power. It is about judgment. Gajeel showed restraint and strategy today. Natsu, Gray... you showed that you are excellent at destroying property."
As the guild members laughed and bickered, a small, ethereal figure floated down from the branches of the Tenrou Tree.
Mavis Vermillion, the First Master.
Since the incident with Acnologia years ago, her spirit had become more active, often appearing to the guild members.
"Congratulations, Gajeel!" Mavis chirped, clapping her hands. "It was a wonderful trial! The way you utilized the terrain was very clever!"
Blake stood slightly apart from the group, leaning against the trunk of the Great Tree. He was dressed in his black trench coat, his long hair tied back. Now he was in his absolute prime. His wives, Mira and Cana, were chatting with Erza nearby, but Blake's eyes were fixed on Mavis.
"First Master," Blake spoke up, his voice cutting through the chatter.
The clearing went quiet. Blake rarely spoke with such serious intensity unless a threat was imminent.
Mavis turned to him, her green eyes curious. "Yes, Blake?"
Blake pushed off the tree and walked toward her. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, Tensa Zangetsu.
"How long do you plan to stay like this?" he asked. "A ghost tethered to a crystal?"
Mavis's smile faltered slightly. A shadow of an ancient sadness passed over her face. "You know why, Blake. The Curse of Ankhseram. The Contradictory Curse. If I were to truly awaken... if I were to walk among you... My love for this guild would kill you all. It is my fate to remain between life and death."
The guild members looked down. They knew the story. They knew of Lumen Histoire—Fairy Heart—and the terrible price Mavis paid for her immortality. Zeref and Mavis, two victims of a cruel god.
"I can lift it," Blake said.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the birds stopped singing.
Makarov dropped his cane. "Blake... do not joke about such things."
"I'm not joking," Blake said calmly. He tapped the black sheath of his Zanpakutō.
"The curse is divine, Blake," Mavis said gently, shaking her head. "It comes from the God of Life and Death himself. Zeref has tried for centuries. I have analyzed every spell in existence. It cannot be broken by magic."
"That's the point," Blake said. "This isn't magic."
He gripped the hilt.
"This sword... Zangetsu... doesn't follow the laws of Earthland. When I use my Bankai now, it doesn't just increase my power. It changes the nature of my existence."
Blake looked Mavis in the eye.
"My Bankai has a final ability. It isn't just about cutting flesh or energy. It can sever concepts. It can cut the chains of causality. It has the power to shatter fate and overcome impossible obstacles."
Gajeel's eyes widened. "Shatter fate? Is that even possible?"
"If your fate is to be stuck in that immortal body, suffering for eternity," Blake said, his voice hard as steel, "then this sword can shatter that fate."
Mavis floated there, stunned. For a hundred years, she had accepted her penance. She had accepted that she was poison to the world she loved.
"But..." Mavis whispered. "The risk. To challenge a God's curse..."
"We challenge dragons," Blake shrugged, a small, confident smirk playing on his lips. "We challenge empires. Why not a God? Besides, I promised my wives I'd make the world safer for our kids one day. A curse that kills people for loving them doesn't fit in that world."
Cana and Mira walked up to him, flanking him.
"He's stubborn, First Master," Cana grinned, placing a hand on Blake's shoulder. "If he says he can cut it, he can cut it."
"We believe in him," Mira added softly.
Mavis looked at Makarov. The old man was trembling, tears in his eyes. To see his mother figure, the founder, truly alive again?
"Let us try," Makarov whispered.
Mavis looked back at Blake. She saw no hesitation.
"Very well," she nodded, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes for the first time in a century. "Let us try."
---
The journey back to Magnolia was tense. The celebration of the S-Class trial had been replaced by a heavy, focused anticipation.
Upon arriving at the guild hall, Makarov ordered a complete lockdown. Only the S-Class mages and those who knew the secret of Lumen Histoire were allowed to stay.
They descended the hidden stairs behind the bar. Down, down into the cool, damp air of the secret underground chamber.
The room was illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow.
In the center of the room, encased in a massive, jagged crystal, floated the body of Mavis Vermillion.
It was a suspended animation of infinite magic power. Fairy Heart.
"Everyone, stand back," Makarov ordered. "Form a containment circle. If the energy of Fairy Heart leaks out uncontrollably, it could wipe out Magnolia."
Laxus, Erza, Gildarts, Mira, Gajeel, and the others took their positions around the room. They flared their magic power, creating a multi-layered barrier of defense.
In the center, Blake stood before the crystal.
The ghostly projection of Mavis stood beside him.
"I am ready," Mavis said, her voice trembling slightly.
"Go," Blake commanded.
Mavis closed her eyes. Her spirit form dissolved into particles of light, flowing into the crystal, merging back into her physical vessel.
Inside the ice-like suspension, the tiny girl's eyelashes fluttered.
Blake reached out with his right hand to his sword.
"Bankai."
BOOM.
The air in the room became heavy, crushing. It wasn't just magic pressure; it was spiritual weight.
Black and crimson energy erupted from Blake, swirling around him like a tornado.
When the energy settled, his appearance had changed.
The long black coat with the tattered hem. True Tensa Zangetsu in his arm.
He raised the black blade.
He didn't aim at Mavis. He aimed at the space around Mavis. He aimed at the invisible, choking chains of the God's curse that bound her soul to the cycle of death.
He focused everything. Every drop of Reiryoku. Every memory of his coma, his rehabilitation, his wedding.
He poured his life force into the blade.
"Tensa Zangetsu..."
The blade hummed with a sound that wasn't of this world. It sounded like a bell tolling in reverse.
"...Unmei no Wari!"
He swung.
It wasn't a fast slash. It looked agonizingly slow to the onlookers.
The blade didn't emit a beam of energy.
Instead, a thin, black line appeared in reality itself. It cut through the air, through the protective barriers (which parted like water), and through the crystal of Lumen Histoire.
CRACK.
The sound was louder than thunder. It was the sound of a law of physics breaking.
The black line passed through the crystal.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, a scream echoed—not from Mavis, but from the void. A disembodied, divine shriek of anger.
The black aura of the Ankhseram Curse that surrounded Mavis's body shattered like glass. The dark mist evaporated instantly.
The crystal of Lumen Histoire began to glow.
Brighter. Brighter.
"Shield your eyes!" Erza shouted.
A blinding white light consumed the room. It was warm, pure, and filled with life.
The containment barriers shattered. The guild members were knocked back against the walls by the sheer force of the displacement.
---
Slowly, the light faded.
Dust motes danced in the air.
The crystal was gone.
Lying on the stone floor, in the center of the room, was a girl with long, wavy blonde hair. She was wearing a simple white dress.
Her chest rose. Then fell.
She took a deep, ragged breath, coughing as fresh air filled her lungs for the first time in a century.
"First Master!" Makarov cried out, scrambling to his knees.
Mavis pushed herself up. Her hands touched the cold stone floor. She looked at her palms. They were pink, flushed with blood. She felt the beat of her own heart.
"I..." Mavis whispered, her voice raspy. "I'm... alive? The quiet... the death... it's gone."
She looked up, tears streaming down her face.
"It worked! Blake! It work—"
Her voice died in her throat.
The room fell into a horrified silence.
"Blake?" Cana's voice was small, trembling.
Standing where Blake had been was... something else.
He was still in his Bankai pose, the sword extended at the end of his swing.
But the black coat was gone. The color was gone.
He was entirely grey.
His skin, his clothes, his hair, even the blade of Zangetsu.
He had turned to stone.
Not just petrified. It looked like the color had been drained from his existence. He was a statue of perfect, agonizing detail. His face was frozen in a mask of intense concentration, his eyes wide and blank.
"NO!" Mira screamed.
She scrambled forward, ignoring the residual heat. She grabbed his arm.
It was cold. Colder than ice. It felt like touching the void.
"Blake! Blake, answer me!"
"He's not moving," Gajeel whispered, his dragon senses finding nothing. "There's... there's no heartbeat. No scent. It's like he's not even there."
Cana fell to her knees, the bottle in her hand shattering on the floor. She crawled to him, grabbing his leg. "You promised! You jerk, you promised you wouldn't leave us!"
Mavis stared at the statue, horror dawning on her.
"He shattered fate," she whispered, her hands covering her mouth. "He broke a God's law. To rewrite reality... the universe demanded an equivalent exchange."
"Fix him!" Gildarts roared, grabbing Mavis by the shoulders, his grief making him reckless. "You're the Fairy Tactician! Fix him!"
"I... I don't know how!" Mavis sobbed. "His soul... it's not in the statue. It's gone."
The Realm Between
Blake Corvus opened his eyes.
He expected the white world of Zangetsu. Or maybe the guild hall.
He saw neither.
He was standing on a surface that looked like black water, perfectly still.
Above him was a sky of shifting, purple nebulas and dying stars.
It was a place of absolute, crushing silence.
He looked down at himself. He was in his human form, but he was translucent, fading at the edges. Tensa Zangetsu was in his hand, but the blade was chipped.
"You have a lot of nerve, mortal."
The voice didn't come from a direction. It came from everywhere. It vibrated in Blake's marrow.
Blake looked up.
Rising from the black water in the distance was a figure.
It was colossal, easily a thousand feet tall. It was draped in robes of rotting grey cloth that flowed into the dark water. Its face was hidden within a hood of infinite darkness, but two burning red eyes, size of suns, stared down at him.
In one hand, the entity held a staff made of white bone. In the other, a set of scales that dripped with black ichor.
Ankhseram. The God of Life and Death.
Blake swallowed hard. The pressure was unlike anything he had ever felt. Acnologia was a lizard compared to this. This was the concept of Death itself given form.
"So," Blake said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I assume you're the one who put the curse on Mavis."
"I am the Balance," the entity rumbled. "She sought to conquer death. I gave her the contradiction. You... you sought to shatter my judgment."
The giant entity leaned down, its face filling the sky.
"You used a blade forged from a soul outside my jurisdiction. You cut the thread I spun. That is a transgression that warrants erasure."
Blake tightened his grip on his chipped sword. He stood his ground.
"She suffered enough. It was a cruel punishment."
"It was Law," Ankhseram intoned. "And now, you are here. Your body is stone in the mortal realm. Your soul is in my grasp. You belong to me now, breaker of fate."
Blake smirked, though sweat was running down his back. He pointed his sword at the God.
"I don't belong to anyone. I have two wives waiting for me, and I promised I wouldn't be late for dinner."
Ankhseram let out a sound that might have been a laugh or a tectonic plate shifting.
"You think you can fight me? Here?"
"I think," Blake said, his Reiatsu flaring, turning the black water white around his feet, "that I didn't come here to die. I came here to negotiate. And if you won't listen..."
Blake settled into a stance.
"Then I'll just have to cut you too."
The God raised his staff.
Blake raised his sword.
The battle for his soul began in the silence of the void.