The year was X791.
Three years had passed since the incident in the Soul Realm—since Blake Corvus had shattered the Curse of Ankhseram and returned from the brink of erasure. Three years of peace. Three years of rebuilding.
The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains of the master bedroom in the Corvus household. It was a large, comfortable room, a sanctuary of warmth and quiet. Blake lay sprawled on the mattress, one arm hanging off the side.
He was just drifting into a deeper cycle when reality arrived.
It didn't arrive with a knock. It arrived with a localized earthquake.
OOF.
The air left Blake's lungs in a rush as a small, dense projectile launched itself onto his stomach.
"Daddy! Daddy! Wake up!"
Before Blake could even process the impact, two small hands began drumming a rhythmic, insistent beat on his pectoral muscles.
"Breakfast is ready! The sun is up! You're sleeping too much!"
Blake groaned, a sound vibrating deep in his chest. He cracked one eye open.
Staring down at him, straddling his chest with infinite energy, was a miniature version of himself.
Alphonse Corvus.
The boy was nearly two years old, possessing a shock of unruly jet-black hair and eyes as dark and intense as obsidian. He had his father's coloring but undeniably carried his mother, Cana's boundless, chaotic energy.
"I'm awake, I'm awake," Blake mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "You have a mean right hook, Al. You been training with Gajeel?"
"Uncle Gajeel showed me how to punch iron!" Alphonse beamed, puffing out his chest.
"Great," Blake sighed, rubbing his face. "Just what we need. More property damage."
Blake reached up, his large hands easily encircling the boy's waist. With a playful grunt, he lifted Alphonse into the air, causing the toddler to shriek with laughter, before setting him down gently on the mattress beside him.
"Alright, menace," Blake sat up, stretching his arms until his spine cracked satisfyingly. "Where is your sister?"
Alphonse bounced on the bed springs. "She's in the kitchen! She's helping Mommy cook! She made a volcano!"
"A volcano?" Blake raised an eyebrow. "That sounds... messy."
He swung his legs out of bed. He was wearing loose pajama pants, his torso bare, revealing the faded scars of his past battles. But the muscles were relaxed now, not coiled for war.
He picked Alphonse up, settling the boy onto his hip. Alphonse immediately grabbed a handful of Blake's long hair to steady himself.
"Let's go assess the damage," Blake said, walking out of the room.
---
The Corvus household was a blend of modern comfort and magical utility. As Blake descended the stairs, the smell hit him—crispy bacon, freshly baked bread, and the rich aroma of coffee.
He walked into the kitchen.
It was a scene of domestic bliss teetering on the edge of disaster.
Mirajane was at the counter, humming a soft tune. She wore a simple yellow sundress with a white apron tied around her waist. Her magic was subtly active; a wooden spoon was stirring a pot of porridge on its own, while she manually whisked eggs in a bowl.
Beside her, perched on a high chair that had been magically reinforced to prevent tipping, was Celeste Corvus.
She was the spitting image of her mother. She was younger than Alphonse by a month; she had a mop of soft white hair and large, shimmering blue eyes that could melt the hardest heart.
Currently, however, those features were somewhat obscured.
Celeste was covered in flour.
It was in her hair, on her nose, on her eyelashes, and plastered all over her pink pajamas. She held a small wooden mixing spoon in one hand and a bowl of flour-water paste in front of her.
"Mix, mix, mix!" Celeste chanted, aggressively stirring her sludge.
"Good job, sweetie," Mira cooed, not looking up from her eggs. "Make sure you get the lumps out."
Blake leaned against the doorframe, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Morning, beautiful."
Mira turned, her face lighting up. "Good morning! Did Al wake you up? I told him to be gentle."
"He used the 'ground pound' technique," Blake chuckled. "I think he's been watching wrestling with Elfman."
At the sound of his voice, Celeste's head snapped up. Her eyes went wide.
"PAPA!" she squealed.
Overcome with excitement, she threw both hands in the air.
"Up! Up!"
In her enthusiasm, she forgot the laws of physics. As her hands went up, the bowl of flour-paste on her tray was knocked forward.
Time seemed to slow down.
Blake watched. Mira turned. Alphonse gasped.
SPLAT.
The bowl hit the floor. The white goop exploded, splattering Blake's boots and covering the kitchen tiles in a sticky, white mess.
Silence descended on the kitchen.
Celeste looked at her hands. She looked at the floor. She looked at her father.
Her lower lip began to tremble. Her big blue eyes filled with tears.
"Uh-oh..." she whispered.
Then, the wail began. A sound of pure, unadulterated heartbreak.
"Oh, no, no, no," Blake was moving before the first tear fell.
He set Alphonse down (who immediately ran to inspect the goo) and scooped Celeste out of her high chair.
She buried her flour-covered face into his bare shoulder, sobbing. "Papa... mess! I made mess!"
"It's okay, sunshine," Blake soothed, rubbing her back, not caring that he was getting covered in paste. "It's just a little flour. We can clean it up. Look, Papa isn't mad. Mama isn't mad."
He walked her around the kitchen, bouncing her gently. "See? Magic makes it all go away."
He glanced at Mira. Mira smiled warmly, snapped her fingers, and a small cleaning spell swept the floor clean in an instant.
"See?" Blake whispered to Celeste. "All gone."
Celeste sniffled, pulling back to look at the floor. "Gone?"
"All gone," Blake kissed her forehead, tasting flour. "Where's Cana?"
Alphonse was trying to poke the now-clean floor.
"She went to the market," Mira answered, plating the eggs. "We were out of milk. And... other essentials."
"Beer," Blake translated dryly.
"And juice!" Mira added quickly.
Blake sat at the head of the table, placing Celeste on his lap. She was calm now, happily chewing on a piece of bacon he handed her.
"So," Blake addressed his children, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone. "I was on a quest yesterday. I missed all the fun. What did you two do?"
Alphonse scrambled into his chair. "We went to the guild! Uncle Laxus was there!"
"And Arthur!" Celeste chirped, mouth full of bacon.
"Yeah!" Alphonse nodded vigorously. "Arthur has new toys! He has a soldier, and Aunt Brandish made it BIG like this!" Alphonse stretched his arms wide. "And then Asuka shot it with her magic gun!"
Blake chuckled. Arthur Dreyar—Laxus and Brandish's son.
And Asuka, Alzack and Bisca's daughter, was already a sharpshooter with her toy magic gun.
"Did you play nice?" Blake asked.
"Yes!" Alphonse said. "I punched a table!"
"That's... well, that's very Fairy Tail of you," Blake sighed.
Just then, the front door slammed open.
"I'M HOME!"
A familiar, husky voice echoed through the hallway.
Both kids' heads snapped toward the door.
"MOMMY!"
Cana Alberona walked into the kitchen. She looked fantastic, wearing a bikini top and an open shirt tied at the waist, carrying two massive grocery bags in one hand and a crate of 'supplies' in the other. Her hair was windblown, and she had a grin that spelled trouble.
"Hey, munchkins!" Cana dropped the bags on the counter and immediately swept Alphonse and Celeste into a group hug, flour and all. "Did you miss me? I was gone for twenty whole minutes."
"I missed you!" Alphonse yelled.
"Me too!" Celeste added.
Cana stood up, walking over to Blake. She leaned down, kissing him deeply, tasting of mint and mischief.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," she smirked. "You look like a bakery exploded on you."
"It was a tactical flour strike," Blake wiped his cheek. "Get anything good?"
"Eggs, milk, bread," Cana listed, then tapped the crate. "And the good stuff for the road trip. It's a long drive to Crocus."
"Grand Magic Games," Blake's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Grand Magic Games," Cana confirmed, her grin turning feral. "Time to remind everyone why the Tiger shouldn't poke the Fairy."
---
An hour later, the Corvus family was ready.
Blake stood by the garage door, dressed in his guild attire—black combat trousers, a fitted grey shirt, and his signature high-collared coat. Tensa Zangetsu rested at his hip.
Mira looked stunning in a deep blue gown that was battle-ready but elegant, while Cana had switched into her classic turquoise pants and bikini top, her card pouch strapped to her thigh.
The kids were dressed in miniature guild outfits—Alphonse in a black t-shirt with the Fairy Tail emblem, Celeste in a cute white dress with the same mark.
"To the URUS!" Alphonse cheered, running toward the sleek green vehicle.
Blake strapped the kids into their magical car seats in the back.
"Are we gonna fight bad guys?" Celeste asked, kicking her legs.
"We're going to win games," Blake corrected, starting the engine. The magic-mobile purred with a deep, predatory growl. "But if bad guys show up... yeah. We might fight a little."
The drive to the guild was filled with music and the kids singing along to popular radio tunes. When they pulled up to the guild hall, the energy was palpable even from the parking lot.
Banners were flying. People were shouting.
This wasn't just a tournament this year. It was a crusade.
Fairy Tail had taken a backseat after winning the Grand Magic Games the first time it was organised. They had let other guilds have their moment.
But Sabertooth...
Sabertooth had won the last Games. And their Guild master, Jiemma, had made public comments calling Fairy Tail "a relic of the past" and "a guild of weaklings who rely on friendship rather than power."
The insults had not gone down well.
Blake walked into the guild hall, his family flanking him.
"BLAKE!"
"MIRA!"
"CANA!"
The guild was buzzing.
"Arthur! Asuka!" Alphonse and Celeste bolted toward the play area in the corner, where the other guild children were gathering under the watchful eye of Kinana.
Blake watched them go, then turned his attention to the podium.
Standing there was Mavis Vermillion.
The First Master—now the Current Master—looked radiant. Since regaining her life, she had grown slightly, looking more like a young woman in her late teens than a child, though she retained her youthful charm. She wore the Master's mantle with a natural authority.
Beside her sat Makarov Dreyar. The old man was drinking tea, looking ten years younger. He had resigned a week after Mavis was freed, citing "old age," but everyone knew he just wanted to watch his 'children' grow without the paperwork. He looked at the guild with watery, joyful eyes.
"Attention, everyone!" Mavis's voice rang out, amplified by magic.
The hall went silent.
"Today, we depart for Crocus!" Mavis announced. Her green eyes weren't just kind today; they were sharp. They were the eyes of the Fairy Tactician.
"I'M ALL FIRED UP!" Natsu screamed, his fist engulfed in flames. He wasjust promoted to S-Class, and was now looking fiercer than ever.
"Calm down, flame brain," Gray muttered, though he was smirking, spinning a piece of ice in his fingers. "Save it for our enemies."
"Sabertooth has insulted our honor," Mavis continued, her face serious. "They believe strength is solitary. They believe the weak should be culled. We are going to show them that true strength comes from the bonds we share!"
"YEAH!" The guild roared.
Blake walked up to the bar where Erza, Laxus, and Gajeel were waiting.
"Ready to stomp some tigers?" Gajeel grinned, his iron studs gleaming.
"I hear Sting has been bragging he can beat a Dragon," Laxus scoffed, crossing his arms. "I might have to teach him a lesson."
"We stick to the plan," Erza said, ever the disciplinarian, though her hand was resting on her sword. "We win every event. We dominate every battle. We leave no doubt."
Blake nodded. "Sabertooth woke up the wrong guild. It's been quiet for six years. I think I'm ready to make some noise."
---
The logistics of moving the entire Fairy Tail guild to the capital of Fiore were a nightmare that only Mavis could organize.
Three massive, magic-powered buses waited outside. They were painted in the guild's colors.
Blake, Mira, and Cana boarded Bus Three, along with Alzack, Bisca, Laxus, Brandish, and the other parents. It was the "safe" bus, though with Arthur and Alphonse on board, "safe" was a relative term.
Bus One, however, was already a disaster zone.
"I feel sick..." Natsu moaned, hanging out the window before the bus even started.
"Troia isn't working as well as it used to!" Wendy panicked.
"Fight it, Natsu!" Elfman yelled. "Motion sickness isn't MANLY!"
As the convoy rolled out of Magnolia, the townspeople lined the streets.
"Go get 'em, Fairy Tail!"
"Bring the trophy home!"
"Show them who's number one!"
Blake sat in the back of the bus, Celeste asleep on his chest, Alphonse playing a card game with Cana in the seat next to him. Mira was leaning on his shoulder, reading a book.
He looked out the window at the passing countryside. The green hills rolled by, peaceful and bright.
He thought about the past. The darkness of the tower, the fear of the dragon, the silence of the coma, the cold void of Ankhseram.
He looked at his hand. It was warm.
He looked at his family. They were happy.
"What are you thinking about?" Mira whispered, noticing his distant gaze.
Blake turned to her, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Just thinking," Blake said softly. "Sabertooth is worried about being the strongest. They want power and dominance."
He looked at Celeste's sleeping face, then at Alphonse laughing as he beat Cana at cards.
"They don't understand," Blake smiled, a dangerous, confident glint returning to his eyes. "We don't fight for a title. We fight for this. And that's why they're going to lose."
Up ahead, the capital city of Crocus appeared on the horizon, its towers gleaming against the mountains. The Grand Magic Games were waiting. The world was watching.
And the strongest guild in Fiore was coming to take back its crown.
Blake rested his head back and closed his eyes.
"Wake me up when we get there," he murmured. "I have a feeling it's going to be a loud week."
The buses roared down the highway, carrying the noise, the chaos, and the heart of Fairy Tail toward their next great adventure.