Mystogan was annoyed.

He wasn't angry, nor was he disappointed. He was the slightest bit sad, but that had more to do with the lack of intelligence being displayed by his opponents, rather than the situation they had forced upon him.

One of those lizard creatures was attempting to sneak up on him. Mystogan allowed his weapon to make his displeasure known, apparent through the application of the stave scratching the back of its throat. The reptile would have objected, but that would require a head to think of said objection and subsequently voice it, which was an option no longer available to it.

As its head had been separated from its body. And then used as a projectile that carved holes through three of its brethren and finally exploded upon a crowd of Shades.

Mystogan absently flicked what looked to be a reptilian finger off his forehead after it had landed there in all the carnage, raising his stave and flicking it to the side. A torrential wave of water rose from the lake beside him - sustained by the other four staves hovering about it - where it reformed into an accurate depiction of a large skull toting an exquisite crown.

The skull's jaw fell open. The beam of light that erupted from it was enough to halve the numbers of Shades swarming the coast, and draw the attention of the reinforcements that had just arrived solely to him.

All thousands of them.

And thus the cycle would begin anew. Reinforcements would arrive to help him, run out of magic, and be forced to retreat to the safety of the Guild to recoup. He, with his zero latent magical presence and superhuman level physique, would hold the line with his staves; weapons that had automatically recharging Lacrimas for a power source. Weapons that took in ethernano from the atmosphere to remain functional.

The atmosphere that had housed the Fairy Tail Guild, and its ensemble cast of ridiculously powerful figures that casually bled enough ethernano to run the entirety of Edolas for a good long while.

Mystogan wasn't angry. He wasn't tired. He wasn't disappointed. He wasn't even amused.

He was a little bit worried, though, considering the massive robot that was lounging out in the middle of the lake was currently drawing what anyone could recognise at the beginning of a magical circle.

The Lizardmen were easy. Just from his brief observations and battles against the magic of his comrades, he had their abilities figured out. Unfortunately for them, he had no magic of his own, and didn't seem capable of copying the many applications of his staves.

The Shades were slightly trickier. Blasting them apart would only bring them pause for however long it took them to regain whatever form they'd had before from any surrounding darkness. Coming into contact with one had no adverse effect on him in particular, but they could still be solid whenever they wanted to slap him around, and their numbers would only keep increasing so long as whoever was creating them was capable of doing so.

The Council would have called it Dark Magic.

Mystogan preferred the term 'rude'. Hence, he was annoyed.

So annoyed, in fact, that he promptly pulled out his communications Lacrima and started sorting through the extremely short contacts list.

The reasoning for this was quite simple. Every S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail had each other's contact information, in case a coordinated defence or assault ever became necessary. The idea had been Ur's, upon the realisation that Fairy Tail (or at least three key members of it) was probably the best bet Fiore would have in the event of a wide-scale conflict. He could say whatever about the differences between people and places from Earthland to Edolas, but the government structure was disturbingly similar, thus why he had agreed upon it being proposed to him rather than denied and returned to staking out on his lonesome.

So now he would be placing a call to the propagator of the system, and politely asking her if she could please knock Jose unconscious so he could return to hunting Animas because who else in Phantom Lord honestly had the magical capacity to sustain so many Shades at once?

Mystogan had only returned to the Guild hall to pick up a new job to use for a cover and maybe ask Silver if he knew why the number of Animas seemed to be going down instead of up. If there was any indication that he would end up fighting in a war, he would have endeavoured to get a bit more sleep last night.

Two other names flashed up on the small Lacrimas' screen; so Ur was in the middle of a conference call, at a time like this? Rolling his hidden eyes, Mystogan pressed down on the portion of screen that was green, an indication that he wished to proceed with this call regardless. Normally it wouldn't have worked, but the beauty of the system was that he was on a list. A very short list of nine, to be exact.

His demands finished, Mystogan brought the Lacrima up to his ear- and his blood ran cold.

"That is the beginning of the Abyss Break, the most powerful weapon Phantom Lord has at its disposal."

…Jose was fucking insane.

Who would cast the Abyss Break on a populated town? Who would cast the Abyss Break in the direction of any people at all?

Who would cast the Abyss Break in the first place!?

A swipe at Mystogan's neck earned the attacking Lizardman a series of caved-in ribs. The man wasn't even paying any attention to the life or death struggle he was a part of, too busy eyeing the circle being drawn out in the middle of the lake and running a series of calculations in his head.

It took him less than a second to come to a conclusion. The disgust that came along with that conclusion bolstered his reaction time, his lips curving downwards beneath his mask. A circle that large could and would take out Magnolia. Whether it managed to make it to Hargeon or not would depend on the strength of whoever was fuelling it.

What was Phantom Lord's alignment again?

The chatter from Silver's end of the connection was muffled, negligible at best. No noise was coming from Laxus that he wouldn't have been able to hear without the Lacrima, and Ur had gone worryingly silent. All in all, he probably wasn't going to get a better chance to interject than now.

"Did he just say Abyss Break?"

You know, maybe he'd just misheard. After all, he'd met a few Phantom Lord mages in his time. They seemed like the right sort of folk, not all that evil or homicidal. Hell, Jose was a Saint. They didn't just give that sort of thing away.

…If your name didn't end in Fullbuster.

"…Who the Hell is that?"

Mystogan would have answered, truly, he would have, had he not been distracted in that moment by the two purple magic circles blossoming on either side of his head. His body broke into a cloud of mist on instinct, but not before whoever had managed to sneak up behind him spoke a single word.

"Metsu."

A golden glow began to emanate from the mass of fog Mystogan had become, growing bright enough to blind him before he could even think of moving. There was a great rush of air, and then…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened to him.

The man - as his voice suggested - behind Mystogan let out a grunt, likely of confusion. He then let out a second grunt, this time of pain, as five staves flew through Mystogan's smoky body and promptly began to pummel the shit out of him. Sliding into one of the stances he'd learned and perfected before leaving Edolas, Mystogan reformed, spinning on his heel with the intent of throwing out a right hook that was calculated to cave his foe's throat in-

Before flinching backwards at the sheer oddity of him.

A top hat? A coat-cape?

…Was that a blindfold?

"Sad, so sad…!" Mystogan took a step away, cocking his head to the side as the man… burst into tears. The downpour coming from underneath his blindfold - oh dear it was actually a blindfold - actually succeeded in knocking his staves away. "For my Metsu not to work… For you to have no magic power of your own… So, so sad!"

Mystogan's skull stave slammed down onto the man's forehead. It did absolutely nothing beyond making the flow of tears larger.

"…Who is this clown?"

The tears streaming down the man's face had disappeared in the blink of an eye. With a flicker that was barely noticeable, he had disappeared from his position on the ground, plunging a fist through the back of Mystogan's head. Rolling his disembodied eyes, Mystogan's hands reformed around the handle of his trident stave, which faced marginal success in dispersing the gust that had followed the man as he melted back into the atmosphere.

"Zetsu," an ethereal voice murmured from behind him, which had the likely adverse effect of giving Mystogan plenty of warning before a swarm of airy spheres peppered his now-previous location.

Hey, at least it managed to take out a crowd of Lizardmen.

Hooray.

XxX

"Is nobody going to let me know who that was?"

"That's Mystogan." A quick glance around the room told Silver that yes, everyone was already paying attention to him. If not for the fact of who he was, then perhaps because he had frozen his hand to his ear the moment he'd taken his seat, and then connected that ice to a frozen, hollow tunnel that ran the length of his face and covered his mouth. It wasn't subtle in any way, but it was better than letting the Council know that Fairy Tail was currently embroiled in a Guild war.

They would find out eventually, but hopefully not before Fairy Tail was able to drum up some plausible deniability… was that Ultear hiding around that corner?

Silver narrowed his eyes at the entrance of the room. A single hair follicle chose that moment to float in front of his face, and by the time it had moved on, the oddly familiar woman was gone.

The room he'd found himself in was depressingly familiar. Rectangular in shape, barely a few meters across, with a set of doors on either side leading into a maze of corridors. On one end was a large pair of doors leading into the Magic Council's Chairman's office, and on the other – where he typically elected to sit – was a row of seats that everything else in the room, including the reception desk nestled into the corner, was facing. Chairs dotted where the boundaries of walkways ended, though given their propensity to move around in between Silver's visits, he didn't actually know where those walkways were. He just sat in his safety seat; a chair that had been found in and subsequently turned further towards a corner.

"Mystogan can talk?" Ur's voice shook Silver from his thoughts; a tiny hole opened up in the ice covering his face in order to replenish his air, closing a few moments later. A few steps away from exasperated, Silver glanced towards the number being displayed on the Lacrima hanging above the reception desk, and then to the small slip of paper he'd taken upon arrival.

…43 was not 45.

Damn it.

"Well, it appears we are both at a disadvanta-"

Silver cocked as eyebrows as the unfamiliar voice entered his ear. It wasn't being shouted over howling wind or… whatever was going on with Laxus, so that only left Ur's connection. Though judging from the falsetto shriek that cut off whatever was being said, he doubted he wanted to know any further.

"OH DEAR GOD NOT THE FACE!"

The Lacrima was still right beside his ear.

Ow.

"HELLO, GUILT FREE TARGET!"

Silver glanced around, slightly green in the face. Seeing as everyone was looking at him, it wasn't difficult to establish eye contact with a young lad wearing a cap with a pinwheel atop it, a lollipop in his mouth and his missing front teeth proudly on display for the world to see.

He looked ridiculously impressionable.

An easy target if Silver ever saw one.

"No, please! It's Master Jose you wa-"

Silver slammed a hand down on the speakers. Pushing himself out of his seat, Silver marched past the child's parents, ignoring their star-struck gazes as he unfroze the Lacrima from the side of his head and held it out to the child.

"Listen to this," he ordered, with all the finality of a general commanding his troops into a battle they had no chance of winning, "give it back when the screaming stops."

The child stared up at Silver with wide eyes.

Silver stared down at the child expectantly.

Hesitantly, the boy reached out and took the Lacrima from Silver's hands. Holding it up to his ear, his expression froze over completely, his jaw slackening enough for the bottom to start hanging open. Whistling innocently, Silver made his way back to his seat, settling down with his legs crossed underneath him as he pretended to look busy.

Somewhere beyond his sight, a clock was ticking. Around the corner, a water fountain trickled against its marble container. Screams of pain were faintly audible from the other side of the waiting room, which Silver did his best to ignore.

Someone walked past him, their neck remaining affixed as they travelled. Silver could have sworn he could hear their spine cracking as they walked through the door.

A minute passed by in relative silence. The faint screams were echoing around the room with far less frequency than they had started out with. Humming absently to himself, Silver pushed his head up and to the side, reading a sign on the wall about… safety precautions in the bathroom. Of course.

"E-excuse me, Glacier-sama?"

For a split second, Silver contemplated not turning around and ignoring whoever owned the voice that had just spouted out his sobriquet. It would have been very easy, too, considering he was currently looking in the complete opposite direction, he didn't want to have a conversation, and there was currently nothing in his hands to play with and subsequently hold his attention. Unless the girl decided on a less polite means of getting his attention, in which case he would then hold all the sympathy, thus cementing his moral superiority.

With those cheery thoughts in mind, Silver closed his eyes, looking for all the world like a man who would have an unfortunately sore neck upon waking.

…Wait a moment.

He knew that voice.

Silver's 'neck twitched at the interruption and sent his forehead into the wall beside him'. Of all the people he had to come across while here, why did it have to be her?

He needed a new plan; there was no chance he could time Ultear out. He'd tried before. Many times.

Silver's sigh was lost to a shriek of agony, courtesy of the communications Lacrima across the room. Lifting his head from the wall, he slowly turned in his seat, willing his brain to give him something- anything to abort this conversation and allow him to escape.

"I'm not Silver Fullbuster."

Naturally, it came up with something completely brain-dead stupid.

Silver - along with almost every other man and quite a few of the women in the room - watched on as Ultear's brow creased minutely in confusion, her face smoothing over a moment later as she shook her head and let out a light laugh.

"Very funny, Glacier-sama, but I can sense your magic. I know-"

"My name is… Revlis Retsublluf." Ultear's eyes glazed over for a moment, before she blinked and was back to paying Silver her full attention, "I have trained my magic to the point where I am able to match my biological twin, Silver Fullbuster, perfectly in combat and no further because then I wouldn't be able to get away with dastardly acts and pin them on my brother. Not me. Brother. Not Gray either, the other one. Y'know… Silver. Not me."

Ultear blinked down at him. From the corner of his eye, Silver could see more than one person opening their mouths. They soon found a hand comprised of ice clamping down on the lower half of their faces.

"Yes, I am the evil twin of Silver Fullbuster, Revlis Retsublluf! Again, not Silver Fullbuster! Formally thought to be lost in the cold, expansive tops of Iceburg's mountainous regions, it was during a Winter colder than any other-"

"Pardon me for a moment, Revlis-sama…" Ultear glanced off to the side and sniffed lightly, her face turning a dangerous shade of red. "Does this mean… there is more than one Glacier-sama in the world?"

"Indeed." Silver nodded without the slightest hint of hesitation or shame.

Ultear turned back to him so quickly that her hair left a noticeable mark on her cheek after it whipped across her face. Opening her mouth a few times, nothing managed to get out except a muted, gargling rattle, followed shortly by a series muffled giggles.

She then hopped around and staggered drunkenly towards the doorway, her legs noticeably shaking as they carried her. 'Revlis' watched on with crossed arms as she bumped into the doorframe, apologised to it profusely in the form of a bow, and ended up smacking herself in the forehead all over again.

A man with blue hair and a large red tattoo over half of his face showed up a few seconds later. Catching Silver's eye, his lips turned upwards into a knowing smirk, the expression lasting all the way from him gently taking Ultear by the arm to him leaving the room with her in his grasp.

And just like that, the room returned to silence-

DING

-Until the Lacrima hanging above the reception desk clicked over another number. On to 45, to be exact.

Firmly ejecting the last few minute's events from his mind, Silver pushed himself out of the chair, waltzed across the waiting room, retrieved his communication Lacrima from a little boy who looked far too happy for the world's good, and threw the double doors leading into Crawford Seam's office like he owned the place.

And the soundtrack to go along with such a series of events?

"AH! MY FUTURE PROGENY!"

Absolutely glorious.

XxX

"Is it really a good idea to stay here?"

Zancrow levelled Rustyrose a flat stare. "Are you actually asking that?"

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't expecting to almost be stepped on by a Dragon made of lightning when I woke up today!"

"Whatever, man. Leave if you want." Zancrow snorted, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side. "Find that damn car and retire early, that's my plan."

"And the Dragons?" Azuma inquired, not sounding the least bit interested.

"God beats Dragon. Everyone knows that."

General murmurs of assent rose throughout the forest clearing.

"…What about the giant robot?"

"Nothing beats giant robot." Said giant robot's left arm chose that moment to fall off, but none of them paid it any attention. "Therefore, it's useless to worry about the fact it exists. That's actually science."

For a brief moment, every present member of Grimoire Heart bowed their head in reverence. Once that moment ended, they were back on the hunt, weaving through the vegetation and jumping on everything that looked even the least bit like metal.

Needless to say, they were not having the greatest of luck in that regard.

XxX

Crawford Seam's office was a fairly organised space.

The carpet flooring was clean. The three trash bins lining the walls were half-filled at most. Every filing cabinet was mirrored on the opposite side of the room by one of its fellows, the only difference between their appearances being the window the one of the left was seated before. The only thing that could be considered dirty was the desk that they all surrounded, flanked by three chairs on the visiting side that had been knocked out of alignment and stacks upon stacks of otherwise neat papers. One pile bore the Chairman's signature, while the one he was systematically taking from did not.

This was the world that Silver Fullbuster entered with all the subtlety and grace of a wrecking ball.

"Ur, what have I told you about targeting the b-"

Silver stopped dead in his tracks as the sound of fracturing (or rather, disintegrating) glass reached his ears. Crawford Seam, seated behind his desk on the opposite end of the room, had frozen as well, one hand raised in greeting as the other kept a filled teacup perfectly balanced atop a saucer. The look of confusion on his face indicated that no, he probably wasn't playing along for kicks, but rather to avoid setting off the mage in front of him, whom had been graced with… a reputation in regards to the Magic Council, let's say.

Silver, of course, took no notice of this. Hatred was a strong word, and it applied near perfectly in this particular exchange, for both sides of the equation.

"Ur…" Silver fell into the only free seat in the room, accepting the saucer from Seam's hands none too gently. Sniffing it suspiciously, he shrugged to himself, brought the cup up, carefully blew on the liquid within, and tipped it back. With that done, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, setting the cup and saucer off to the side behind a vast pile of what looked like unfinished paperwork. "…Did you just throw someone out of a window?"

"Answering those in order; you've told me don't do it, and I've already apologised to Loki. He understands that a stripping habit does not for wanted attention make, and accepted that. It's ancient history." Silver was having a hard time hearing her over the terrified screams coming from the device. He had a sneaking suspicion that Ur may have been the one causing them. "And also, yes I did. Because while we are very high up and I'm marginally worried that I may have hurt him, the fact remains that he willingly took part in a plan to unleash Abyss Fucking Break on an ENTIRE FUCKING TOWN!"

Silver removed the Lacrima from his ear with a slight hiss. Rubbing soothing circles over the appendage, he nodded in agreement as Seam covered his own ears and winced. "Um-"

"Are you done with whatever it is you're doing yet, Silver?" Ur's words were accompanied by a crackle of static, likely courtesy of Mystogan's distant voice as it shouted out the names of various spells. "This shit-show needs to end, now."

Another tumultuous crash echoed through the Lacrima, getting quieter and quieter as Silver lowered the device's volume until it was muted. Holding it to his ear, a strap of ice looped around the small phone, securing it in place with an infinitesimal chime.

"Your friends sound very… busy."

Silver sent a dark glare Seam's way, which had very little effect. Constant exposure built up resistance over time, after all.

"Getting attacked by mechanical Dragons, trying to punch air, climbing a massive robot, throwing people out of windows… You know, typical Guild stuff." Silver crossed his arms and settled them against the table, shooting a quick glance at the clock that was hanging on the wall beside him. "You've got… three and a half minutes of me being civil, but after that I'm afraid I will have to leave. You understand, of course."

It wasn't a question.

"Oh, yes, of course. We're all busy nowadays, with something or another." Seam shrugged, retrieving a teapot from one of his desk's drawers and holding it out to Silver. "I shouldn't have to keep you too long, but before we get to that, would you like a refill?"

Silver curled a finger around the pot's handle, inching it closer in order to sniff through the spout. His lips twitched downwards as he set the teapot down on the desk, coating an index finger in ice and using it to push the offending metal away. "You know how I take my tea…?"

"You are currently the person the Magic Council wishes to irritate the least." Seam tilted his head to the side, his eyes indicating that somewhere beneath the blanket of snow he called a beard, he was smiling. "In fact, you have held that title for the last six years. Congratulations."

"Honoured." Silver's mouth set itself into a thin line, suggesting that no, he wasn't actually feeling honoured. What a dirty rotten liar he was. "Now for the reason I'm here; Demon attacked. It was dead before I got a chance to properly see it. No, it was not a planned assault. No, it is not a sign of the end times. No, I'm still not willing or able to take on students for Devil Slaying Magic. And yes, so long as a Demon is a threat, I will continue to slaughter them, provided they provoke rather than exist in peace."

Seam nodded along, taking down everything that had been said in a notebook that he'd pulled out somewhere between 'honoured' and 'now'. The scratching of his pen filled the otherwise silent office, second ticking by as Silver stared out of the office's single window and attempted the find some shapes in the clouds.

After a while, he clicked his tongue, narrowing his eyes on the unfortunate form of the Magic Council Chairman. "So am I allowed to leave now, or would you like to make some more threats against my Guild?"

The pen in Seam's hand stilled. After a moment, the man holding it sagged down somewhat, looking every bit his advancing age. The mere sight made Silver want to stick needles of ice through his… everything.

"I truly do wish you would refrain from the hostilities." With a heavy sigh, Seam dropped the pen back into the drawer he'd taken it from, sweeping the notebook to join the stacks of papers that had yet to be looked at properly. "Very well, I thank you for your attendance. Unless you have any questions, our business is concluded."

Silver was out of his seat before Seam had even finished speaking. With a curt nod, he turned around, his fingers brushing against the desk as he began to make his way towards the door, one hand being shoved into his pocket after the first step.

His feet brushing against the carpet may as well have been gunshots into the silence. Silver cracked the knuckle of his index finger, causing Seam to jump ever so slightly and leave a messy line going across the page he had just been signing.

A few more steps, and Silver's hand was closing around the door's handle.

In that moment, he stilled. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Come to think of it, I do have one question."

Seam looked up from his work, halfway through a nod before all the air in his lungs decided it would be a better idea to be literally anywhere else.

Silver turned to face him fully at a sluggish pace, his sclera devoid of light. Holding Seam's gaze within his pure white irises, Silver pulled his hand out of his pocket, his eyes flinching down and causing Seam's to do the same.

Seam's face lost any semblance of colour as a lump of frozen tea slowly slid out of the cup in Silver's grasp, falling to the carpet and bouncing twice. It ended up directly at his foot, and he couldn't kick it away fast enough.

"Whatever could have made you think…" In the entropy that was Silver's eyes, something flashed. It was pale blue in colour and enormous in presence, and Seam had to wonder if he really had just swallowed his tongue as it continued to grow outwards, "…that trying to poison me was a good idea?"

To say that Silver's magic exploded outwards would be to rob it of its rightful recognition. Rather, Silver's magic expanded outwards, filling the surrounding atmosphere with nothing but itself. Seam remained quite literally frozen to his seat as wave after wave of power more potent than any he had felt before lashed out against him, his body and mind stuck somewhere between shock and terror.

But even then, he had no hope of grasping just what he was experiencing.

Because Silver hadn't bothered to keep it contained to the office. Already, there were workers attempting to break through the ice holding the door closed. Already, there was a particular member of the Magic Council lying numb as she basked in the pressure invaded every sense. Already, a great sphere of pale blue was spreading over, in, under, and above the land, dropping temperature and changing climates in the time it took a heart to beat.

And here Crawford Seam was, with a front seat view to it all. To the experience that only intensified as black patterns began to spread out over Silver's entire body.

"You are currently the first person in the world that I have used this technique on." That most certainly was not Silver's voice talking to him. Unable to swallow, unable to even breathe due to the ice covering his orifices, Seam could do nothing but let out a terrified, muffled scream as Silver Fullbuster took a single step towards him. From across a room, and with a desk still in between them.

It was the eyes that did it. The empty pits that had been carved into a human body, sucking all he had inside into the void.

Crawford would have fainted in that moment, but the sharp instrument poking at the back if his neck let him know how bad that idea would be in execution. He blinked, and Silver was right before him, leaning over his desk and leaving him with nothing to stare at but emptiness and despair.

"In fact, you will hold that title for the rest of all time."

Silver grinned. It was all teeth.

"Congratulations."

XxX

As Laxus lay on the ground, he reflected on how his day had been so far.

It had started so long ago. Long enough that he couldn't even remember when he'd woken up. He'd gone to the Guild, been forced into doing a job he would never have chosen for as long as his family name continued to live, and had been locked in combat with a robot Dragon for… minutes? Hours? Days?

He just didn't know anymore.

The revelation that the insane bitch he was fighting (because there really wasn't any other way to refer to her) was keeping kids inside that massive Dragon was disturbing. He'd been attacking with every opportunity given to him by his disobedient weapon, which had only lead to a lifelong hatred of people who were smarter than him and knew how to apply it.

The thing healed itself. It was damn near impossible to break regardless. The last time he'd managed, he'd copped some sort of security laser to the face when he'd tried looking in and seeing if he couldn't maybe perform a rescue and stop having to worry about children in the cross-fire. But of course, he couldn't be that lucky.

His mouth had been open and everything. How he was still alive after a laser went down his throat, he had no clue, nor did he especially want to think about it. Maybe it had something to do with magic shenanigans, he could just ask Gray about it when he got back.

So far, his day had been shit. Easily the worst one this week. There was still the chance of that being beaten out by the fight with this mechanical Dragon exceeding twenty-four hours, but even the thought of that made his jaded and thoroughly deadened heart ache.

So here he lay, looking up at a mechanical Dragon that seemed oddly reluctant to just grant him the sweet release of death while a megalomaniacal scythe laughed at him from his own head. The Lizardmen were surrounding him, and he could do absolutely nothing about it, because what was the point? They would just throw his own magic at him, and he was immune to Lightning.

He hated it. He hated that he could no longer fight properly. He hated this woman that had seen fit to attack his Guild. He hated these mutants that kept coming at him with his own magic. He hated the kids inside the Dragon just a little bit, for being there in the first place. He hated Silver for his part in this. He hated Ur for taking his coat. He hated his grandfather for being knocked out so easily in a time of need.

He… he…

He hated everything.

Laxus blinked at the revelation, a hollow giggle escaping his lips. It was almost uplifting, in a way. To finally find a method of articulating his thoughts. He laughed once more, far more openly this time, as the pessimistic words repeated themselves in his head.

He hated it all. Silver, the Guild, his enemies, himself.

But he would keep fighting anyway. Because everyone else was, and that wasn't something he could turn off with pessimism.

He was listening to it all, through the headphones still attached to his ears; Mystogan's fight with an opponent as vexing as his own, Ur's rampage through the halls of Phantom Lord, Silver's meeting with the Magic Council Chairman, if it could even be called that.

He felt his blood boil as Silver proclaimed the attempt on his life. His hands clenched hard enough to crack the unfortunate rock that had been between the fingers of one of them. The first waves of familiar magic washing over his position worked somewhat well to calm him, the cold slowly seeping into the fire that had begun to consume him entirely.

But it was when he decided to finally push himself back to his feet that it became apparent to him. As he took in his opponents and they all stared back, spiked air atop their heads and tattoos curling along all their bodies. As one, they opened their eyes to showcase the emptiness within the sockets, and Laxus just felt something inside himself shatter.

A giggle escaped his lips. Then another. A snort came next, then a quiet guffaw, and before he knew it he was laughing out loud, his body shaking as a scythe burst through his chest, bringing with it this time a hefty amount of blood.

It had happened again. Even if unintentionally, his best friend had fucked him over once again.

Muscles burst out across Laxus' body, swelling it to the point of closing the gaping wound on his chest. Lightning arched off him, lances large enough to be visible out on the ocean, loud enough to tear the branches from the trees. A Lizardman was foolish enough to approach, and got vaporised down to the molecular level for his trouble.

Laxus held his scythe in trembling hands. The metal was bending beneath them, the screeched sounding more pained than it should have.

"Fuck everything."

And with that whisper they converged, surging onwards from all angles. Left, right, before, behind, up, even down.

Laxus grinned openly, unaware or uncaring of the crimson trails running down his cheeks.

XxX

A/N: *Teletubbies voice* Uh Oh!