For one fragile moment, Jellal looked like himself.
He clung to Erza as if she were the only solid thing left in the room.
His body shook.
His fingers tightened against the back of her torn shirt.
“You came,” he whispered.
Erza held him closer.
“Of course I came.”
Jellal closed his eyes.
Alastor stood in the doorway, watching.
The reunion should’ve felt like a victory.
The guards were down.
Jellal’s chains were open.
Rob’s sacrifice had given Erza the power to break through the prison levels.
Somewhere above them, the other children were moving toward the outer yard and the supply docks.
They’d reached him.
They’d changed something.
Maybe.
Then Jellal smiled against Erza’s shoulder.
Alastor’s hope died.
Zestial saw it too.
He shifted his grip on the sword Alastor had given him, but his arms were trembling too badly to use it properly.
His earlier prototype armor had drained nearly everything he had.
He leaned toward his brother.
“Something’s wrong.”
“I know.”
Erza pulled back.
“We have to move.
The others are heading for the docks.”
Jellal looked at her.
“The docks?”
“There are supply ships.
We can take them to the mainland.”
“You want to leave?”
Erza stared at him.
“Yes.”
Jellal’s eyes drifted toward the open cell door.
One of the defeated guards groaned in the corridor.
“We’re free,” Erza said.
“The guards are running.
Everyone fought back.”
“Free,” Jellal repeated.
Something about the way he said it made Zestial’s skin crawl.
Erza didn’t seem to notice.
“Grandpa Rob said there’s a guild on the mainland.
Fairy Tail.
We can go there.”
Jellal looked at her blood-soaked bandage.
“What happened to your eye?”
Erza’s hand rose toward it.
“They punished me.”
His expression tightened.
For an instant, real anger appeared.
Then something colder settled over it.
“Who?”
Erza looked toward the corridor.
“The guards.”
Jellal stood.
His legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he caught the wall.
Erza reached for him.
“We’ll deal with them later.
We have to go.”
“No.”
She froze.
Jellal stepped past her.
The two guards lay outside the cell.
One was unconscious.
The other was trying to crawl toward his sword.
Jellal stopped beside him.
The guard looked up.
His face went pale.
“You.”
Jellal tilted his head.
“You hurt her.”
The guard grabbed for the sword.
Dark magic flashed.
The man’s body jerked.
Then he stopped moving.
Erza stared.
“Jellal?”
The second guard stirred.
Jellal raised his hand again.
Erza grabbed his wrist.
“Stop!”
He looked at her fingers around his arm.
“He tortured us.”
“He’s already down.”
“He took your eye.”
“That doesn’t mean you kill him!”
Jellal’s expression became strangely calm.
“It means exactly that.”
Erza released him as if his skin had burned her.
“No.”
Jellal looked toward the remaining guard.
Darkness gathered around his hand.
Alastor moved.
He knocked Jellal’s arm aside before the spell could fire.
The magic struck the ceiling.
Stone exploded overhead.
Zestial raised the borrowed sword.
“Back away from him.”
Jellal slowly turned toward Alastor.
The room seemed to grow colder.
“Who are you two?”
“Alastor and Zestial.”
“You shouldn’t have followed her.”
“I hear that a lot.”
Erza stepped between them.
“Jellal, listen to me.
Whatever they did, it’s over.
We can leave.”
“Leave for what?”
“For freedom!”
Jellal laughed.
It was soft.
Empty.
“There’s no freedom out there.”
Erza stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“The world beyond this island has rulers.
Councils.
Guilds.
Laws.
Everyone obeys someone.”
“That’s not the same as this.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No!”
Jellal walked into the corridor.
Broken chains and fallen weapons surrounded him.
“The guards called themselves our masters.
The cult calls itself Zeref’s servant.
The kingdoms kneel to councils, and the councils kneel to fear.”
He spread his arms.
“Everyone is a slave.”
Zestial’s old memories shifted.
Words.
Images.
A boy twisted by a voice pretending to be Zeref.
A tower that became a promise of freedom while consuming everyone who built it.
He swallowed.
“Alastor.”
“I remember.”
Erza heard him.
Her head turned.
“Remember what?”
Neither brother answered.
Jellal smiled.
“They know.”
Erza looked between them.
“Know what?”
“They’ve been watching me like they’re waiting for something.”
Alastor’s claws began pressing against his fingertips.
“We’re waiting for you to stop sounding like a cultist.”
Jellal’s eyes sharpened.
“You carry beasts beneath your skin, yet you think you can judge me?”
“Constantly.”
“Alastor,” Zestial warned.
“I know.”
Jellal looked at Zestial next.
“And you.”
Zestial forced himself to stand straighter.
“What about me?”
“Armor that appears from nothing.
Weapons you’ve never trained with.
A creature that obeys your thoughts.”
“It doesn’t obey my thoughts.”
“Then what is it?”
“A Palico.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Jellal stepped closer.
The air tightened around him.
“You don’t belong here.”
Alastor smiled without humor.
“We noticed.”
“No.” Jellal’s gaze moved between them.
“There is something very wrong about you two.”
Erza’s left eye widened.
Zestial went still.
Jellal had seen too much.
Or the thing inside him had.
The torchlight bent.
A presence pressed against the room.
Alastor couldn’t see it.
He could feel it.
Cold fingers against the inside of his skull.
A voice hiding behind Jellal’s voice.
Jellal looked toward the Tower above them.
“I heard him.”
Erza shook her head.
“Heard who?”
“The one this place was built to receive.”
“No.”
“He showed me the truth.”
“Jellal, there’s no one here.”
“Zeref is everywhere.”
The name turned the corridor silent.
Erza’s fingers tightened around her sword.
Jellal smiled.
“The Tower isn’t a prison.
It’s a doorway.”
“It’s a grave,” Alastor said.
Jellal ignored him.
“The R-System will restore the one person powerful enough to destroy every false master in this world.”
Erza’s voice trembled.
“You want to finish the Tower?”
“We’re going to finish it.”
“We?”
“All of us.”
“No.”
Jellal’s smile vanished.
Erza raised her sword.
“We’re leaving.
Sho, Simon, Wally, Millianna—everyone.
We’re taking the ships, and we’re never coming back.”
Jellal watched her.
Then he began laughing.
“What?”
“You think they’ll leave with you?”
“They already are.”
The laughter stopped.
Jellal lifted one hand.
Magic pulsed through the floor.
Far above them, the Tower answered.
Stone groaned.
A distant explosion rolled through the corridors.
Erza flinched.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing that can’t be undone.”
Zestial felt the blood drain from his face.
“The exits.”
Jellal looked at him.
“The main gates are sealed.
The supply docks remain open.”
“Why?”
“So Erza can leave.”
She stared at him.
“Just me?”
“You and your strange companions.”
Alastor stepped forward.
“We’re not leaving the others.”
Jellal’s magic slammed into him.
Alastor flew backward and struck the cell wall.
Pain burst through his ribs.
He dropped to one knee.
“Alastor!”
Zestial let the borrowed sword fall and reached for his magic.
Nothing answered.
He tried again.
Armor.
Shield.
Anything.
A faint blue-white circle flickered beneath his feet.
“Requip: Chainmail Armor—Prototype!”
Three broken sections of chainmail appeared around his torso.
One gauntlet formed.
The rest collapsed into sparks.
Jellal watched with interest.
“You’re empty.”
Zestial’s incomplete gauntlet vanished.
“Not completely.”
It was a lie.
Jellal knew it.
Alastor forced himself upright.
Golden light spread across his shoulders.
His body tried to become too many things at once.
Fur.
Scales.
Claws.
A tail that appeared and vanished before it fully formed.
The transformations tore at one another.
He screamed and dropped back to the floor.
Zestial grabbed him.
“Stop.”
“He hit me.”
“You’re tearing yourself apart.”
“I can work with that.”
“No, you can’t.”
Erza moved before either brother could continue.
She crossed the corridor and swung at Jellal.
He caught her wrist.
Not with strength.
With magic.
A dark band coiled around her arm and stopped the blade inches from his face.
Erza strained against it.
“Let them go.”
“You’re still protecting everyone.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you’ll never be free.”
Jellal threw her aside.
Erza struck the floor and rolled.
Her sword slid away.
Several fallen weapons trembled in response to her anger, but her new magic was exhausted and unsteady.
One sword lifted before clattering back down.
Jellal walked toward her.
“I’m offering you freedom.”
“You’re threatening our friends.”
“They’ll live if they accept their purpose.”
“They’re not tools!”
“They’re builders.”
“They’re children!”
“So are we.”
Erza stared at him.
For half a heartbeat, pain crossed Jellal’s face.
The real boy surfaced beneath the darkness.
“Erza…”
She reached toward him.
“We can still leave.”
His hand trembled.
“Together.”
The pressure in the corridor weakened.
Alastor held his breath.
Zestial tightened his grip on his brother’s arm.
Jellal looked at Erza’s outstretched hand.
Then the torchlight bent again.
A shadow passed through his eyes.
His expression emptied.
“No.”
Erza’s hand remained extended.
“Jellal.”
“That name belongs to a weak child.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“He believed escape would make him free.”
“You believed that.”
“He was wrong.”
Erza’s hand slowly lowered.
Jellal raised his own.
A dark magic circle formed beneath Erza.
Chains made from black light erupted from the floor and wrapped around her arms and legs.
She cried out.
Alastor lunged.
Magic caught him around the throat and lifted him from the ground.
Zestial reached for him.
A second force drove Zestial to his knees.
Jellal stood among them.
A bruised child in torn clothes.
A prisoner who’d mistaken control for freedom.
“You’ll leave this island,” he told Erza.
“You’ll tell no one what happened here.”
She fought against the bindings.
“I’ll come back.”
“If you do, Sho dies first.”
Erza stopped.
Jellal crouched in front of her.
“Then Millianna.”
Her face went white.
“Then Wally.
Then Simon.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I’ll do whatever the Tower requires.”
“No.”
“Bring a guild, and they die.
Bring the Council, and they die.
Return alone, and they die.”
Tears filled Erza’s left eye.
Jellal leaned closer.
“You’ll carry their lives with you.
That’ll keep you obedient.”
Alastor clawed at the invisible force around his throat.
Jellal looked at him.
“You understand, don’t you?”
Alastor forced the words out.
“You’re scared.”
The pressure tightened.
“What?”
“You’re scared they’ll choose her.”
Jellal’s face hardened.
“You need hostages because nobody would stay otherwise.”
Magic hurled Alastor across the room.
He struck the wall and collapsed.
Zestial crawled toward him.
“Al!”
Alastor coughed.
“Still right.”
Jellal looked at Zestial.
“And you’ll leave with her.”
Zestial placed himself between Jellal and his brother.
“Why?”
“Because your magic doesn’t belong in my Tower.”
“Your Tower?”
“Yes.”
“The children built it.”
“They built it for me.”
“No,” Zestial said.
“They built it because people like you kept them in chains.”
Jellal’s magic struck him.
Zestial hit the floor beside Alastor.
Neither brother rose.
Erza stopped fighting the dark bindings.
“Enough.”
Jellal looked at her.
“I’ll leave.”
Alastor lifted his head.
“Erza—”
She didn’t look at him.
“I’ll leave.
Let them go.”
Jellal smiled.
The bindings vanished.
Erza collapsed forward.
“Good.”
She remained on her hands and knees.
Jellal walked back into the cell and picked up one of the broken shackles.
“Freedom needs sacrifice.”
Erza slowly stood.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“This isn’t freedom.”
“You’ll understand one day.”
“I won’t.”
She retrieved her sword.
For a moment, Alastor thought she might attack again.
Part of him wanted her to.
Zestial knew better.
They were exhausted.
Erza’s magic had barely awakened.
Alastor couldn’t control his transformations.
Zestial couldn’t summon a complete armor set.
And Jellal held every child in the Tower hostage.
There was no victory left in the room.
Only survival.
Erza helped Zestial stand first.
Together, they pulled Alastor upright.
He leaned against them, breathing through clenched teeth.
“I can walk.”
“You’re standing because we’re holding you,” Zestial said.
“Technicality.”
Jellal watched them reach the door.
“Erza.”
She stopped.
“When they ask why you left, what will you tell them?”
Her shoulders tightened.
“The truth.”
Jellal raised one hand.
Somewhere above them, a child screamed.
The sound cut off abruptly.
Erza went rigid.
Jellal’s smile returned.
“What truth?”
She couldn’t answer.
“Go.”
They left the cell.
The corridor outside felt colder than before.
Erza walked in front.
Zestial supported Alastor.
No one spoke until they reached the stairwell.
Then Alastor whispered, “We can’t actually leave them.”
Erza stopped.
“I know.”
“We need another route.”
“I know.”
“Scout’s still with them,” Zestial said.
Erza turned.
He closed his eyes.
The connection was faint but present.
Moving through the upper levels.
Urgent.
Afraid.
Still guiding children.
“I can feel it.”
“Can you talk to it?” Alastor asked.
“Not from this far away.”
“Can it feel you?”
“I don’t know.”
Erza looked toward the stairs.
“If Scout gets them outside—”
“Jellal controls the docks,” Zestial said.
“He’ll let us leave because he wants you gone.
He won’t let everyone else follow.”
Alastor wiped blood from his mouth.
“Then Scout hides whoever it can.”
Zestial looked at him.
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
Alastor forced himself upright without their help.
“But it’s something.”
Erza stared up the stairs.
Sho.
Simon.
Wally.
Millianna.
The younger children.
Every person who’d followed her because she’d promised them freedom.
“We get as many out as we can,” she said.
Zestial nodded.
“Quietly.”
“No fighting unless we have to.”
Alastor frowned.
“You looked directly at me.”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough.”
They climbed.
Behind them, Jellal stood alone in the punishment corridor.
The surviving guard began to stir.
Jellal looked down at him.
Dark magic gathered in his hand.
High above, the rebellion continued.
Children ran toward exits that were already closing.
Scout guided them through passages the guards had forgotten.
And beneath the Tower, a boy who’d once dreamed of freedom began building a kingdom from chains.