Ankhseram, the Cursed God, towered over the speck of existence that was Blake Corvus. The deity was a mountain of rotting robes and divine darkness, holding the scales of judgment that dripped with the black ichor of countless doomed souls.
"You are a glitch," Ankhseram's voice boomed, vibrating through the spiritual fluid beneath their feet. "A mortal soul wielding a weapon from a foreign reality. You have trespassed. Now, you shall be erased."
Blake stood firm on the surface of the black water. His physical body was stone in Earthland, but here, his soul was burning with a white-hot intensity.
He raised True Tensa Zangetsu.
"Trespassing?" Blake smirked, though the pressure of the God's aura felt like gravity had increased tenfold. "I call it a house call. You've been bullying my guild master for a century. I'm here to file a complaint."
"Insolence."
Ankhseram raised his massive bone staff. A sphere of black magic—the very essence of the Contradictory Curse—gathered at the tip. It was enough energy to rot an entire continent. "Perish."
The beam fired. It was a torrent of death, a wave of absolute negation.
Blake didn't dodge. Instead, he widened his stance. He gripped his sword with both hands.
"Anti-Magic Domain: Null Zone."
ZRRRMMMM.
A sphere of colorless, distortion-heavy energy expanded from Blake's body. It wasn't magic. It was spiritual pressure so dense, so heavy, and so fundamentally different from the Ethernano of Earthland that it simply pushed reality away.
When the God's curse-wave hit the perimeter of the Null Zone, it didn't explode.
It vanished.
The black magic dissolved into harmless sparks, neutralized instantly upon contact with Blake's domain.
Ankhseram's glowing red eyes widened in genuine shock. "What? My curse... it was unmade?"
"This isn't magic, Ankhseram," Blake said, his voice echoing with a hollow, metallic timbre. "This is anti magic zone here, you're not a God. You're just a big guy in an ugly robe."
Blake vanished.
Shunpo.
He appeared instantly at eye level with the colossal deity.
"Getsuga Tenshō!"
A crescent of black spiritual energy slammed into Ankhseram's hood.
The God roared—not in anger, but in pain. The attack didn't just burn; it cut. It sliced through the divine protection that made Ankhseram invulnerable to mortal magic.
---
Time in the Void was subjective, but for Blake, it was a marathon of agony.
For what felt like the first day, Ankhseram tried to overwhelm him with physical prowess.
Blake moved like a shadow. He cut through the hands, dancing on the water, his blade a blur of black steel. Every time a curse was fired, the Null Zone erased it.
"You speak of Balance!" Blake shouted on the second day, parrying a strike from the bone staff that shattered a nearby pillar. "What balance is there in torturing Zeref for 400 years? What balance is there in killing Mavis just because she fell in love?"
"Order must be kept!" Ankhseram bellowed, his voice shaking the void. "Life and Death cannot merge! They violated the taboo! The suffering of the few ensures the stability of the many!"
"That's a tyrant's logic!" Blake retorted, slashing a deep gash into the God's robe, revealing the swirling darkness beneath. "You created demons through Zeref! You created wars! The innocent people killed by Lullaby, by Deliora, by the Alvarez Empire—that blood is on your hands!"
By the fourth day, the dynamic had shifted. Ankhseram was no longer attacking with arrogance; he was fighting defensively. He realized that inside Blake's domain, he was vulnerable. God tried to retreat, to widen the distance, but Blake was relentless.
"Why won't you die?" Ankhseram shrieked on the fifth day, frustration mounting.
"I have two wives," Blake grunted, wiping spiritual blood from his forehead. "If I die here, they'll resurrect me just to kill me again for being late. I'm more scared of them than I am of you."
By the sixth day, Blake's Null Zone was flickering. His stamina was draining. Maintaining a domain that rewrote the laws of physics was consuming his soul.
But Ankhseram was worse off. The God was riddled with wounds that leaked black smoke. His staff was cracked. The scales of judgment were broken, severed by Zangetsu.
On the seventh day, the end arrived.
Blake stood on the water, panting heavily. His vision was blurring. He had almost nothing left.
Ankhseram loomed over him, but the God was hunched, his aura dim.
"Finish it," Ankhseram rasped. "Or fall."
Blake took a deep breath. He centered the last dregs of his power.
He didn't raise his sword. He lowered it.
The black energy around him condensed. It didn't expand outward; it wrapped around his blade like a second skin, vibrating with a pitch so high it shattered the silence.
"This is the final move," Blake whispered.
He looked up at God.
"Mugetsu Style: Fate Severing Slash."
He moved.
He didn't teleport. He simply occupied the space in front of Ankhseram in a timeframe that didn't exist.
He raised the blade to the God's exposed neck.
The intent was clear. This wasn't a cut to wound. It was a cut to erase. If this landed, Ankhseram—the concept of Life and Death in Earthland—would cease to exist. The cycle would break. The world would fall into chaos.
Ankhseram felt the cold steel of the blade against his throat. He felt the terrifying void within the sword—a power that devoured gods.
For the first time in eternity, the God felt fear.
"WAIT!"
The voice was desperate. It cracked with terror.
"STOP!"
Blake froze. The blade was a millimeter from the God's neck. The sheer pressure of the stopped attack caused a shockwave that parted the black sea for miles.
"Give me one reason," Blake hissed, his eyes glowing white behind his hair.
"The Balance!" Ankhseram stammered, shrinking back. "If you kill me... life ceases. Death ceases. Your world becomes a stagnant hell of grey! Nothing will be born! Nothing will die!"
"I don't care about your job description," Blake growled. "I care about the curses."
Ankhseram cried out. "I will allow you to remove the Contradictory Curse from Mavis Vermillion! I will allow you to remove it from Zeref Dragneel! I will allow you to sever my connection to them! They can be mortal! They can be free!"
Blake held the sword steady. "And the cost? What's the catch?"
"No catch!" The God shook his head frantically. "Just... spare me. Let the cycle continue. I will withdraw from their lives. I will never touch a member of your guild again."
Blake stared at the massive red eyes. He saw the fear. He saw the truth.
Slowly, very slowly, the black energy around the blade dissipated.
The Anti-Magic Domain flickered and died.
Blake slumped slightly, the exhaustion hitting him like a physical blow.
"Deal," Blake said hoarsely. "But remember this fear, Ankhseram. If you ever look at Fairy Tail the wrong way again... I won't stop the blade next time."
"I... I understand," Ankhseram whispered, humbling himself. "Go. Return to your vessel. The contract is sealed."
The God raised a trembling hand. A portal of white light opened beneath Blake's feet.
Blake sheathed Tensa Zangetsu.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
He fell backward into the light.
The Awakening
Beep... Beep... Beep...
The sound was rhythmic and annoying.
Blake smelled antiseptic and... lavender?
He felt weight. Heavy, warm weight on his chest and his left arm.
He felt a hand holding his right hand so tight it hurt.
He forced his eyelids open. They felt like rusted shutters.
The light was blinding at first. He blinked, adjusting.
He was in the guild infirmary. But it was crowded.
Laying across his chest, fast asleep, was Cana. Her hair was messy, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
Curled up against his left side, holding his arm like a lifeline, was Mirajane.
Sitting in chairs around the bed were Makarov, Gildarts, Laxus, Erza, and a blonde girl who looked distinctly like the First Master, but... solid.
Blake tried to move.
His arm twitched.
"Mmnn..." Cana stirred. She lifted her head when she saw his arms twitch.
She blinked. She looked at Blake.
Blake looked at her.
"Hey," he rasped. His voice sounded like he'd been gargling gravel. "I'm Back."
Cana froze. Her eyes went wide.
"B... Blake?"
Mira shot up instantly. Her blue eyes locked onto his open ones.
"Blake!"
"HE'S AWAKE!" Natsu's voice roared from the hallway.
Suddenly, the room was chaos.
"BLAKE!"
Cana buried her face in his neck, sobbing loudly. "You jerk! You idiot! You were a rock! You were a literal rock!"
Mira was kissing his face all over, crying silent, happy tears. "You came back... you actually came back..."
Gildarts was visibly shaking, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding for sometime. Makarov collapsed into a chair, weeping.
Blake managed to sit up slightly, despite his wives clinging to him like koalas. He looked around.
"How long?" he asked.
"Seven minutes," Erza said, stepping forward. Her armor clanked. She wiped a tear from her eye. "You were a statue for seven minutes. We couldn't move you. We couldn't heal you. Wendy tried everything. Mavis... Mavis said your soul was gone."
Blake looked at the blonde girl. Mavis Vermillion stood at the foot of the bed. She was barefoot, wearing a borrowed Fairy Tail dress. She looked healthy. Alive.
She looked at him with an expression of absolute awe mixed with guilt.
"You returned," Mavis whispered. "How? You went to the domain of Ankhseram. No one returns from there."
The room went quiet. Everyone leaned in. They knew he had done the impossible, but they didn't know the specifics.
Blake smiled weakly. He reached out and patted Mavis's head.
"I bargained with a God."
"Bargained?" Makarov asked, his eyes wide. "With the God of Death? What could you possibly offer him? Your magic? Your lifespan?"
Blake chuckled, though it hurt his ribs.
"No. I didn't offer him anything of mine."
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his family.
"I offered him his life."
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
Natsu's jaw dropped. Gray stared. Gildarts looked like he'd been slapped.
"You..." Mavis stuttered. "You... spared... Ankhseram?"
"We fought," Blake said casually, as if talking about a bar brawl. "For seven days. He realized he couldn't kill me. I had him at sword-point. So, I gave him a choice. Die and let the universe collapse, or let me lift the curses on you and Zeref and let me go home."
He shrugged. "He chose to live."
"YOU THREATENED TO KILL A GOD?!" Cana screamed, shaking him by the shoulders. "AND HE LISTENED?!"
"I have a very persuasive sword," Blake grinned.
"That is..." Mavis fell to her knees, overwhelmed. "That is impossible. But... I feel it. The curse. It's gone. Completely gone."
She looked up at Blake, her eyes shining with gratitude that spanned a century.
"Thank you. Thank you for giving me a future."
"Don't mention it," Blake said softly. "Just... live. That's all the thanks I need."
"Well," Makarov stood up, drying his eyes. "This calls for a celebration. Not just for the S-Class trials. But for the true rebirth of our First Master!"
The Master raised his cane.
"TO THE GUILD HALL! WE DRINK UNTIL SUNRISE!"
"AYE SIR!"
---
The party that night was legendary, even by Fairy Tail standards.
The news had spread. Mavis Vermillion was back. The founder of Fairy Tail was walking, talking, and currently losing a drinking contest to Cana.
Blake sat at his usual table, a tankard of ale in his hand.
Mira sat on his lap, feeding him grapes and occasionally checking his pulse just to be sure.
Cana was on his right, flushed with victory after out-drinking the First Master.
"She's a lightweight," Cana whispered loudly. "One barrel and she's giggling at the ceiling."
"She hasn't had a drink in a hundred years, give her a break," Blake laughed.
Across the hall, Mavis was dancing on a table with Natsu and Happy, learning the lyrics to a vulgar tavern song and looking happier than any human being had a right to be.
Gildarts came over, slamming a heavy hand on Blake's back.
"You crazy bastard," Gildarts grinned. "Fighting a God. You're trying to make me look bad as a father-in-law, aren't you?"
"Just keeping the family reputation up," Blake toasted.
Blake looked around the hall.
He saw Romeo practicing fire magic. He saw Wendy laughing with Chelia. He saw Gray and Juvia actually holding hands under the table.
He looked at his sword, leaning against the bench. The blade was silent. Zangetsu was resting.
He had shattered fate. He had rewritten the laws of the universe.
But looking at the smiles of the people around him, Blake realized that the best part wasn't the victory.
It was the simple fact that tomorrow, Mavis would wake up with a hangover. Tomorrow, Mira would cook breakfast. Tomorrow, Cana would complain about the sunlight.
There was a tomorrow.
Blake wrapped his arms around his wives, pulled them close, and closed his eyes, listening to the roar of the guild.