The dimly lit war room buzzed with an air of tense confidence as the four top executives sat around a large, enchanted map of the fortress. Outside, the battle raged, but none of them looked particularly concerned.
Selis leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the table with a smirk. "So this is the Aiden everyone's been screaming about?" She scoffed, twirling a dagger between her fingers. "A kid running around with a bunch of fancy weapons, tearing through weakling guilds like they're made of paper. Impressive? Maybe. But dangerous? To us? Please."
Renzo chuckled, swirling a glass of wine. "Oh, I love how everyone acts like he's some unstoppable force. The only reason he's made it this far is because the guilds he's wiped out were barely worth calling guilds. Bottom-feeders. Weaklings." He smirked. "I find it insulting."
Drazen exhaled sharply, eyes fixed on the map. "Varik was saying the same thing." He glanced at the empty seat beside them, then back at the battlefield below. "And where is he now? Bleeding out somewhere because he got humiliated by a damn child."
Selis rolled her eyes. "Varik was an idiot. He had one job—one—and he got stomped like a nameless grunt. If he is the kind of 'strong opponent' Aiden's used to, then I'm even less worried."
Varkas, the largest of the three, cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the room. "Let the brat come. I've been waiting for something interesting." His grin widened. "If he's as good as they say, maybe—maybe—I won't hold back."
Renzo scoffed. "You act like he's going to be some great challenge."
"I hope he is," Varkas replied, standing up and rolling his shoulders. "It's been a while since I got to rip apart someone with real skill."
Selis tapped the map, her tone playful but edged. "Ivory and Ebony—two guns that never run out of ammo, capable of shredding through magic barriers like paper. Rebellion—a sword that looks like it belongs to a demon, yet swings like it weighs nothing in his hands. And Chastiefol—an ever-shifting weapon with a form for every situation." She smirked. "Sounds impressive. On paper."
Rumors of Aiden's fighting style had spread far and wide. Some claimed he was a demon in human skin, his weapons cursed extensions of his will. Others said he never fought the same way twice, adapting so fluidly that even the strongest mages couldn't predict his next move.
Drazen's fingers drummed against the table. "He's not just strong—he's unpredictable. A fighter who doesn't follow the rules of magic or conventional combat. Guns, swords, shape-shifting weapons—he's mastered them all." His voice lowered slightly. "And in the past few months, he's hunted dark guild after dark guild like it was nothing."
Renzo waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please. We're not those weaklings."
Selis grinned. "Drazen, are you scared?"
Drazen's gaze darkened. "I don't fear him. But I won't make the mistake Varik did."
Varkas sneered. "Good. Because I want him to come. I want him to try." He leaned forward, his grin widening. "And when he does, I'll show him what real power looks like."
Renzo raised his glass. "To the kid who thinks he can take us down. May he entertain us before he dies."
Selis chuckled. "I hope he puts up a fight. It's been too long since I had fun."
Drazen said nothing, eyes still locked on the battlefield. His silence spoke volumes.
Then, the heavy wooden doors creaked open.
The conversation stopped immediately.
A tall, imposing figure entered, his mere presence enough to make the three executives straighten in their seats. The air shifted, as if the temperature had dropped. Their guildmaster had arrived.
Dressed in a long black coat, his piercing gaze swept over the room before settling on the enchanted battlefield map. His expression was unreadable, but the silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, he spoke.
"You're all underestimating him."
The words were calm—too calm—but they carried a weight that made even Varkas's smirk fade slightly.
Renzo raised an eyebrow. "With all due respect, Guildmaster, are we really supposed to be afraid of some kid?"
The guildmaster didn't even look at him. "Afraid? No. Cautious? Absolutely." He stepped forward, placing a single gloved hand on the table. "Aiden is not some overhyped rookie. He's a hunter. He doesn't just fight—he eliminates. And he does it efficiently."
Selis scoffed, though there was a subtle shift in her posture. "You make him sound like some kind of monster."
The guildmaster's gaze locked onto hers. "What do you think he is?"
A heavy silence followed.
Drazen, who had already voiced his concerns, leaned forward slightly. "You've seen him fight, haven't you?"
The guildmaster nodded. "More than once." His eyes remained sharp as he looked at them. "And I will tell you this—if you treat him like any other enemy, you will die."
Varkas let out a low chuckle. "Then what do you suggest? Run away?"
The guildmaster's lips curled into the ghost of a smirk. "No. Kill him before he kills you." He turned, his coat billowing slightly as he strode toward the door. "Fight smart. Work together. Or don't—I don't particularly care. But if any of you get yourselves killed because you let arrogance cloud your judgment…" He paused at the doorway, glancing back. "Don't expect me to care."
With that, he left, the heavy doors closing behind him with a resounding thud.
For a long moment, none of the executives spoke.
Then, Renzo exhaled, shaking his head. "Well. That was dramatic."
Selis smirked, but this time, it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Looks like the kid's got the old man's respect."
Drazen simply stared at the map. "Or his concern."
Varkas cracked his knuckles again, grinning. "Good. That means he won't be boring."
—
Makarov stood at the edge of the battlefield, his small frame barely noticeable among the chaos. Explosions lit up the sky, the ground trembled with every clash of magic, and the scent of burning wood and scorched earth filled the air. Yet, despite the devastation surrounding him, his gaze remained steady, his fists clenched.
His children were fighting.
Through the smoke and flashes of light, his eyes found Aiden. The boy moved like a phantom, weaving through the battlefield with an ease that defied belief. Rebellion cleaved through the air, cutting down those foolish enough to stand in his way. Ivory and Ebony roared, precise shots piercing through barriers and armor alike. Chastiefol danced around him, shifting from a massive spear to a swirling storm of blades, impaling enemies before they could react.
Makarov had always known Aiden was strong. From the moment the boy had stepped foot into Fairy Tail, there had been something different about him—something beyond magic, beyond sheer talent. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he looked at the world. He had always been sharp, calculating, and fiercely determined, but there had been a loneliness in him too, a distance he kept even from those who cared for him.
Back then, Aiden had been polite, reserved—almost too proper, like he was afraid to step out of line. He had respected his guildmates, but he had kept himself at arm's length, as if Fairy Tail was something he was part of but not truly belonging to. He had fought with precision and skill, never reckless, never emotional—just efficient.
But now… Makarov saw something else.
Aiden wasn't just fighting. He was fighting for them. For Fairy Tail. For his family. And that made all the difference.
Now, he was reckless, bold—sometimes even arrogant. He didn't hesitate to taunt enemies, to throw himself into danger with the confidence that he could handle it. He had fully embraced what it meant to be Fairy Tail. Yet, beneath that newfound bravado, he was still the same Aiden—compassionate, kind, always watching out for those around him. He fought not just to win, but to protect.
Makarov remembered the day Aiden had come to him about his power. The boy had stood before him, his usual confidence muted, as he explained—carefully, deliberately—what he could do. He spoke of lost magic. And yet, even as he explained, Makarov had known.
He wasn't telling the whole truth.
There had been something in his eyes, in the way he chose his words too carefully, as if holding something back. Perhaps it was caution, perhaps it was fear—fear that Makarov would ask too many questions, that he would push too hard.
But Makarov hadn't. Not then. Not now.
Because it didn't matter.
Aiden was his child. His family. Whatever secrets he held, whatever burdens he carried, Makarov would protect him all the same. Guide him, stand by him, do everything in his power to ensure that, no matter what path Aiden walked, he would never have to walk it alone.
A dark mage lunged toward one of his own—a young girl barely out of her teens. Makarov moved before he could think, his body expanding in an instant, growing into his Titan form. With one hand, he caught the enemy mid-swing, the force shaking the ground beneath him. The dark mage's eyes widened in shock.
"You dare lay a hand on my family?" Makarov's voice boomed, filled with an authority that sent shivers through friend and foe alike. He squeezed, and the enemy's weapon shattered like brittle glass. His other hand swung forward, sending the dark mage flying across the battlefield, crashing into a line of his allies.
But there was no time to breathe. More enemies swarmed, their eyes gleaming with malice.
Makarov exhaled. He had fought in wars before. He had seen the price of battle. He would not let Fairy Tail pay more than they had to.
"Stand your ground!" His voice echoed, reaching every one of his mages. "Protect each other! We fight together, we win together!"
Aiden was already ahead of him. The boy didn't hesitate, didn't falter. His movements were sharp, precise. Once, Makarov had worried about his recklessness, his tendency to shoulder burdens alone. But that wasn't who Aiden was anymore. He wasn't just a lone warrior cutting down his enemies—he was their shield, their spear. He fought not for himself, but for those beside him.
Makarov watched as Aiden turned, his eyes scanning the battlefield, checking on his comrades, ensuring their safety. There was a fire in his gaze, not of rage, but of purpose. The boy who had once kept his distance now fought with everything he had, because he had found something worth protecting.
The realization made warmth swell in Makarov's chest.
Aiden was his child. His family. And he couldn't have been prouder.
A sudden shift in the air—an attack coming. Makarov turned, his massive arms moving to shield his children as a barrage of dark magic rained down. His barrier held firm, the impact shaking him but not breaking him. Behind him, his mages regrouped, rallying under his protection.
He wasn't just their master. He was their shield. Their guardian.
And as long as he stood, none of his children would fall.
—-
I slow my pace as I approach a large structure at the heart of their territory—what looks like their main base. It's built from dark stone, with towering walls and an ominous energy pulsing from within.
This is it.
I step forward, my boots crunching against the dirt. The air here is different—thicker, heavier. I'm being watched.
A sudden gust of wind kicks up dust, and from the shadows of the entrance, four figures step into view.
I felt their magic before I saw them. Thick. Suffocating. My fingers flexed around Rebellion's hilt. NIMO pulsed at my wrist, scanning the area.
Four figures stepped from the shadows, their eyes locking onto me, evaluating. They weren't just sizing me up, they already knew who I was.
The one in the center, clearly the leader, spoke first. "Aiden… I was hoping we wouldn't have to deal with you directly." His voice was smooth, measured. "You've been a thorn in our side for too long."
I smirked. "Yeah? Funny, I don't even know your names. Must mean you're not that important."
The guy to his right scoffed, sparks crackling around his fingers. "Cocky bastard. I've been waiting for this. Let's see if you're still running your mouth when you're in pieces."
I tilted my head. "Oof. That's the best you got? I expected more from people who actually know who I am."
He growled, fists igniting with violent energy. "You won't be so smug when I-"
The woman beside him chuckled, twirling a thin thread of blood between her fingers. "Let him talk. I want to hear him scream later."
I pointed at her. "See, now that's how you make an entrance. Creepy, unsettling, just the right amount of psychotic. Take notes, Sparky."
The brute of the group cracked his knuckles, muscles tensing, but stayed silent.
The leader exhaled slowly. "Enough." He raised his hand, and the air around me grew heavy. The ground beneath me felt like it wanted to swallow me whole, gravity magic.
I barely reacted, rolling my shoulders. "Oh, come on. If you know my reputation, you should know this won't work."
The four of them tensed as I stepped forward, completely unfazed.
I cracked my neck. "So… we doing this or what?"
The leader's magic pressed down harder, the gravity shifting to crush me into the ground. I felt the weight increase, the air growing thick as if the entire world wanted me on my knees.
I scoffed. "Really? You guys know who I am, and this is what you open with? I was expecting something… I don't know, threatening." I stretched my arms, cracking my neck as if I were shaking off a lazy morning stretch.
The leader's eyes narrowed. "You're acting awfully relaxed."
"Because I am," I shot back. "I thought I was walking into a challenge, not a warm-up."
The hothead with the explosive fists lunged first. He blurred toward me, his fists lighting up like miniature suns. "Let's wipe that smug look off your face!"
I rolled my eyes. "Blah, blah, blah, boom."
I side-stepped just as his punch exploded against the ground where I'd been standing. Stone and dust blasted into the air, but I was already moving, Rebellion flashing in my grip. The moment his attack missed, I twisted, slashing toward his exposed side.
He barely managed to raise his arm, and even then, my sword still cut through his sleeve, drawing blood. He jumped back, glaring. "Tch! Lucky hit."
"Lucky? Oh no, buddy, I was being nice. I could've taken your whole arm, but then I'd have to hear you whining about it." I pointed my sword at him. "And I don't think I could handle that."
His fists clenched. "You're dead."
"You keep saying that," I mused, tapping my chin. "And yet, here I am. Still talking. Still standing. Kind of makes you look bad, don't you think?"
The woman flicked her wrist, and thin crimson threads shot toward me. "Let's see if you're still so talkative when I drain you dry."
Blood magic. Great.
I leaped back as the threads sliced through the air where I had been, embedding themselves into the ground and corroding the stone. Nasty stuff.
"Neat trick," I admitted. "But you know what's cooler?" I raised my hand, and Chastiefol shifted into its spear form. The golden weapon hummed with energy. "A magic spear that actually listens to me."
I flicked my wrist, and Chastiefol shot forward. She tried to weave around it, but the spear moved on its own, twisting mid-air to chase her.
"Tch." She barely dodged as it zipped past her shoulder, cutting a deep gash into her arm. Her blood magic reacted instantly, the wound closing unnaturally fast.
"Oh, come on, no fair." I grinned. "I thought we were playing for keeps."
The brute chose that moment to make his move. A low rumble shook the ground, and before I could react, he was on me.
Fast. Too fast for someone that size.
His fist crashed into my ribs, and I felt the impact rattle through my body. Even with my durability, I was launched off my feet, slamming into a broken pillar. Dust exploded around me.
"Alright, credit where it's due," I muttered, rubbing my ribs as I stood. "That actually stung."
The brute didn't say anything. He just cracked his knuckles and charged again.
"Not this time, big guy." I raised a hand, and in an instant, a thousand cherry blossom petals filled the air, Senbonzakura.
The brute stopped, eyes darting around as the glowing pink petals hovered around him.
I snapped my fingers.
The petals blurred, becoming a storm of razor-sharp blades. They slashed at him from every angle, cutting into his skin faster than he could react. He roared, swinging wildly, but he couldn't hit them all.
"You know," I mused, "you might want to invest in some armor. Just a thought."
He growled, blood dripping from dozens of cuts, but he wasn't down yet. His body began shifting, muscles growing larger, his skin hardening like stone.
"Oh, great. A transformation. Because that's never been done before."
The leader finally moved. He raised a hand, and the gravity around me intensified again but this time, he wasn't trying to crush me.
No, he was pulling me toward him.
Before I could react, I was yanked forward at high speed, straight toward his waiting fist.
I twisted mid-air, swapping Rebellion for Chastiefol in its pillow form. The soft, mossy cushion absorbed most of the impact as I crashed into him. The moment we collided, I kicked off his chest, flipping backward and landing smoothly.
The leader glared. "You're starting to annoy me."
"Only starting?" I grinned. "I must be slipping."
The hothead launched another explosive attack, this time from a distance. The fireball hurtled toward me like a meteor.
I raised a hand. Senbonzakura's petals swirled around me, forming a barrier that absorbed the explosion. The blast sent shockwaves through the ruins, but when the smoke cleared, I was still standing, untouched.
The woman tried to sneak attack me with her blood threads again, but I saw it coming. Chastiefol shifted into its second form, a muscular stuffed bear, blocking the strike with ease.
I wagged a finger at her. "Tsk, tsk. You gotta be quicker than that."
The brute lunged, his transformed body now armored like a beast's. He swung at me with enough force to level a building.
I dodged, barely. His fist shattered the ground where I had been standing.
"Okay, that was close," I admitted. "Guess I should stop messing around."
I pointed Rebellion at them. "Alright, folks. You've had your fun. My turn."
Chastiefol transformed into its true spear form, glowing with golden energy. Senbonzakura's petals sharpened, forming a deadly storm. Rebellion hummed in my grip, ready for action.
I grinned. "Let's see if you can handle me when I stop holding back."
They tensed. They knew I was done playing.
And then, I attacked.