Sitting in my office, I was cursing the local structure of magic.
Given my genetics background from my previous world, it might seem strange that it took me several years of research before I could properly read and interpret the DNA of the people here. But there was a solid reason for that.
The culprit: mages, and for the strong ones this is basically inevitable, don't have a standard double helix. Ethernano particles literally weave themselves into the chromosomes, forming a third, magical helix, which makes the whole thing exponentially more complicated to study.
And because of that, powerful mages gradually stop being classical Homo sapiens. Their human DNA, even if they were born to completely ordinary people with zero mages in the family tree, gets diluted by magic. Every great mage slowly mutates into their own unique micro-species, perfectly tuned to their specific type of Ether.
It gets even more interesting with dragon offspring, that being us, me and Erza. The Dragon Seed that takes root inside a mage, something Natsu has, and something our parents probably had too, works like a biological archive. It carries hundreds of adaptive variants: fire scales, iron lungs, venomous claws, spatial hearing, and so on. As it turned out, we each inherited different scraps of that archive from whichever parent it came from. Not half their genes, just a sliver. Erza got more of the physical strength side, I got less. As for me, it eventually became clear I'd received a lot of junk, fragments that without complete gene chains did absolutely nothing and just sat there as dead weight.
But now, with both of us having developed our magic to a pretty serious degree, Erza especially, our genes have diverged even further. Having gone down the path of magical power somewhat less far, I'm now genetically closer to random strangers than to my own sister. Which leads to a kind of funny conclusion: blood-mixing between us, inbreeding that is, is biologically impossible. We don't share the same recessive disease alleles that could go dominant in any hypothetical offspring. Really, we don't have harmful genes to begin with, because whatever wasn't working right, good old Ether cheerfully patched up. That last part honestly doesn't surprise me at all, not when you look at what the locals sometimes do to their own bodies. Mira absorbing and wielding demonic energy, for instance. If Ether, guided by its host's subconscious will, couldn't partially repair genetic damage and cushion the impact of the locals' more extreme stunts, there'd be a lot fewer people walking around. Though even Ether isn't omnipotent in that regard. Otherwise, my experimental subjects would survive at a much higher rate, and I wouldn't need nearly as many trial runs to figure out what kills them and what doesn't.
As for the open question of how mages manage to reproduce at all given the genetic chaos, that remained unsolved. More tricks of Ether and willpower? Probably. But I didn't particularly care about that right now. What interested me was how genetic changes would actually show up in people over time.
Research was all well and good, but I'm not the type to just sit and observe. I need to do something. And while Ether gave both me and the local biologists a considerable leg up in that department, I still had zero interest in using myself as a test subject and risking my own hide. So, having prepared a hidden laboratory well in advance, underground, far from Magnolia, in the finest tradition of a certain snake-like vivisectionist, I set about finding some candidates for my benevolent experiments. Well, not exactly. I hadn't completely lost it. Obviously I wasn't going to touch my own people, unlike that snake, or random innocent civilians. But this world, for all its cheerful surface, was crawling with parasites whose disappearance would leave everyone better off.
And so, my holding cells ended up with a perfectly ordinary group of perfectly ordinary bandits who'd made a career out of burning down villages.
In a hidden underground lab, outfitted just as well as my main one, all equipment teleported in, I was running an experiment on my first human subject. The number 1 was written on the bound man's forehead, clearly marking his designation.
"So then, where to start," I said, turning my back to the subject in the spacious chamber and running my fingers over the small lacrimas arranged on the table. Each one had a prepared spell sealed inside, weak but functional, replicating the properties of various magical plants and materials I'd studied before. "I think we'll start with the most basic thing. Regeneration!"
I grabbed one of the spheres, and a scalpel glinted in my other hand as I approached the man. He had a blindfold on, so he couldn't see what I was about to do. He felt it soon enough though.
"Ahhhh!!!" Subject One screamed as I cut into him. "Please, I'm begging you! Spare me! Have mercy, Master Mage!"
"Hm. Gag him," I said, flicking the hand that held the scalpel. My magic sealed Subject One's mouth shut, leaving him able only to grunt. "And I suppose anesthesia... Actually no, the effect might skew the results. Then again... a well-restrained patient doesn't need anesthesia, does he?"
In response to my musing, the subject started thrashing even harder, straining against his restraints.
"Though I can always try it both ways later," I muttered, nodding to myself. I continued the experiment, directing the lacrima's magic at the incision. The wound on his chest began closing at a decent pace. "Not bad, not bad. Some specimens showed greater responsiveness, but it works on humans well enough. And what if I combine it with this?"
The scalpel in my other hand was swapped for a second lacrima, which I started using alongside the first.
"Mm, the effects aren't compatible," I noted, watching the healing wound knit back together crookedly and messily under the subject's thrashing. The simultaneous use of the second lacrima, which was supposed to eliminate scarring, was interfering. "So, same as with the primates, sequential application is necessary. Or a specifically modified version."
The lacrimas in my hands kept changing as I cycled through effect after effect.
"Alright, this one works..."
"This one too."
"Oh. This one compromised DNA integrity across a massive cluster of cells..." I remarked, when one of the lacrimas failed to reattach a limb and instead caused tumors to spread rapidly across the tissue. "And if I use this one... Damn. Yeah, he's definitely done."
Getting caught up in the more interesting experiments, I hadn't noticed when I killed Subject One. His death cooled me off, and I got serious.
What I'd just done was rush through a quick preliminary check, just eyeballing things and using my magical sense to see what happened. After that I slowed way down, brought out the full analytical suite, and actually started understanding the processes.
That immediately cost more time, but it saved subjects. My goal was a detailed study of everything happening under my influence, not outright murder. Tracking every vital process in real time let me take preventive measures when I needed to, which brought the mortality rate down considerably.
So, as time went on, my research found its rhythm. Breakthroughs came. Failures came too.
One of the failures involved a series of experiments around an interesting formation in humans near the Magic Origin, a structure that resembled a Second Origin.
Forcing it open, however, caused subjects to begin voraciously absorbing Ethernano from the air and dying in excruciating agony.
After losing three people, including two mages, neither of them particularly strong, I shelved that line of inquiry. Even with medical support, mages couldn't survive having that formation forcibly opened. And since my primary objective was precise genetic manipulation, I wasn't about to scatter my focus across half a dozen directions at once. Chase two rabbits and you catch neither, you just end up with bruises in every direction. If you want real results in genetic engineering, you focus. You don't circle around the issue.
So I focused, sinking deeper into the field I loved most.
It was hardly surprising, then, that my work eventually got busted.
"Lian, what are you writing down so furiously?"
Erza and I were sitting in one of the rooms of our estate, working through a plate of freshly made sweets from the cooks, when she noticed the text scrolling across the holographic display beside me. I was using the Archive magic branch, an incredibly useful form of spellcraft for exactly this kind of record-keeping, convenient for storing and transcribing information directly from thought.
"Hm? Oh, just a thought that popped up. Writing it down so I don't forget. Don't mind it, just work notes. You'll ruin your appetite."
"Ruin my appetite?" She gave me a strange look. "Show me."
"Well. I did warn you."
"'Subject 87, engage effect combination... Acceptable damage threshold: critical. Acceptable mortality: 100%.'" Erza's eyes went wide. "Lian, these aren't work notes!"
And the reason I got "busted" was that I hadn't actually been hiding anything.
"No, they really are work notes... If you mean these 'subjects,' they're just scum. Slave traders, common bandits, that kind of crowd."
"But Lian... You can't do this."
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely not getting it.
"Their deaths will always leave a mark on you! You're going to—"
"Unlikely," I cut Erza off before she could really get going. "I don't register them as people. To me they're just numbers that keep going up. They were a drain on humanity, us included. They kill and sell people like us. The same kind of people who—"
"I know!" Her voice cracked. She stood up, stepped around me, and pulled my head against her chest. "I hate them just as much as you do. But Lian... You remember Jellal? He decided the same thing, that some people were just tools for a 'greater purpose.' That their lives didn't matter. That the ends justified the means."
"I'm... not Jellal."
My hand came to rest against Erza's stomach, a quiet sign of my care.
"Not yet. But your limits... they'll start shifting. Today it's slave traders. Tomorrow it's ordinary innocent people. The day after, anyone who gets in the way. You won't even notice it happening, Lian. But I will. And I won't let you become that."
"Hff." I let out a pained sigh. "Did you get that from a novel? Writers and their favorite themes... morality, morality..."
"I'm serious. You could genuinely lose your mind..."
"Where exactly have you seen a sane person in this world?" A smirk crossed my face, but then I closed my eyes and pressed closer to her. "Alright, sis. I'll stop actively hunting for test subjects and switch to experiments on artificially grown tissue and limbs. They won't be sentient, so I think that fits your vision of how things should go. Even if it does take longer."
"We're not in any rush," Erza said softly, running her hand through my long hair.
"However, unfortunately, I can't hand over the ones I've already taken to the government. They could disclose information that would get us labeled as criminals."
"That's... acceptable," came the sad sigh above my head. "But..."
"But I won't go looking for new ones."
And so I reached an agreement with my moral compass, the one named Erza. I hadn't brought up the fact that we weren't actually blood relatives; no good moment had come up. Besides, the way we lived... well. Relatives don't usually live like this, and there's typically a lot more distance between them. But those minor genetic technicalities hadn't put a dent in the years we'd spent together, and as far as I was concerned, they shouldn't affect our relationship in any negative way.
As for my morality, I genuinely needed to stop relying solely on myself in that department. Because, as I could observe, my actions had drifted pretty far from anything I might have done back when I was an ordinary person in my first world. Killing tens of thousands in experiments, the way my base self had done; could that ordinary student have ever imagined that in less than two decades he'd grow, or fall, depending on how you look at it, to that scale?
But returning to morality: when you drift too far from it, it pushes people away. And I didn't want to lose the warmth between me and Erza.
The power I chase so relentlessly, it exists precisely for that warmth. For enjoying life. For love, as corny as that sounds.
That's what separates me from Jellal. From what I'd heard, he wanted to achieve his ambitions first and only then find satisfaction in life. Resurrect Zeref so Zeref could supposedly make everything wonderful for everyone. My life, on the other hand, is already good right now. And power is what I need to keep it that way, and make it even better.
This world is full of people who would love nothing more than to trash the perfectly decent life I've built. Lovely bunch.
And so, wrapping up that phase of my work, I shifted my ongoing experiments to artificially grown tissue.
My knowledge and skills had grown enough through the earlier subjects to actually do that. As for manipulating cellular division limits, I'd been doing that since my last life, and I'd managed to adapt that technique to local methods. So while growing the material took some time at first, supply stopped being an issue pretty quickly.
Months passed, as they do, while I was busy with my less-than-reputable work. The world was full of events, like the Alvarez Empire from a neighboring continent declaring war and attempting to invade Ishgar, the continent where Fairy Tail is located. But as quickly as the war started, it ended. The Magic Council deployed their ultimate tactical weapon, Etherion, firing a spell from a satellite capable, by some accounts, of wiping entire nations off the map.
Why exactly the empire had shown up, I never fully understood. The reasons they stated, something about the Council's overreach and the injustice of certain Ishgar nations' conduct toward Alvarez generally, felt thin. But since Fairy Tail wasn't dragged into the chaos, I had neither the opportunity nor the real motivation to dig into it all. Though it did make clear that beyond Fairy Tail's little corner of the world, events of genuinely epic scale were unfolding.
As for what touched the guild directly, our ranks kept growing. A certain Mystogan had joined relatively recently, a solitary, tight-lipped guy, fairly powerful, who relied on artifacts. From what little I'd observed, and I'd crossed paths with him maybe twice, he had a reasonable shot at making S-Class by the end of the year.
Additionally, Gildarts had departed on a Century Quest, and we weren't expecting him back anytime soon.
But in the midst of all this, unfortunately for all of us, Fairy Tail was dealt one piece of news that cast a shadow over everything.
One afternoon, while Erza and I were looking over the S-Class mission board on the second floor, Mira and Elfman came back to the guild. They looked absolutely destroyed.
Noticing that they had nothing left on their faces, I pulled myself away from the board and dropped down to the main floor.
"Did something happen, Mira, Elfman?" I asked carefully, stepping closer.
In response, the girl grabbed at me with both hands and nearly collapsed, her legs going out from under her as tears poured from her eyes.
"...Lisanna. She's gone."
At those words, the guild's constant noise cut out instantly into dead silence.
"...What?" I blinked, catching her by the arms.
Behind me came a cough, the sound of someone choking on their beer. Well, not "someone." That was Makarov.
"Let's go to my office... If you can talk about it," he cut through the silence.
"It was... It was me," Elfman muttered. He hesitated a moment, like he was debating whether to help me carry Mirajane, then pulled his hands back and just walked.
Something sharp twisted in my chest at the thought that the little girl I'd watched playing with Natsu was gone. But I got a hold of myself quickly and kept my face neutral.
"Hell of a thing," I said, carrying Mira like a princess through the master's office door. The old man followed, then Elfman, with Erza bringing up the rear as moral support.
We locked the door so that the two of them, clearly deep in grief, wouldn't have to endure a dozen overly curious guildmates who, sympathetic as they might be, wanted to know every single detail. Our small group gently, carefully began piecing together what had happened to the Strauss family.
Slowly, we managed to pull out some of the story. Setting aside the sobbing and the self-blame, Mira blaming herself for taking the job and bringing her younger siblings along, making Lisanna's death her fault; and Elfman blaming himself for absorbing a beast and losing control over it too late, so the fatal blow was his; what came out was a strange picture. Specifically, the strange part was that at the moment of her death, the girl had vanished in a flash of white light.
As a certified killer, former life but still, I know that when people die from a monster's blow, they end up bloody. They don't disappear in white light. So the whole thing struck me as deeply suspicious right away. And judging by the looks around the room, everyone else had arrived at the same conclusion, except the two Strauss siblings who were currently in no condition for critical thinking.
Since a situation this delicate, namely the site of a death, didn't allow for delay, we collectively decided: Erza would go to Mira and Elfman's home and try to be there for them, while I, as the teleportation mage, would jump directly to the scene and take a closer look.
With the plan settled, we moved out of the office. And though Makarov's dark look kept most people from blocking our path, that "most" wasn't quite "everyone."
"How could Lisanna die?!" Natsu roared, eyes red, tears and snot all over his face. "How could this even happen..."
But Erza didn't let him get any further. One punch, clearly reflexive at this point, sent the kid flying into the wall, where he slumped against it.
"I'll take care of Mira and Elfman. Don't take any unnecessary risks," my sister said.
"Of course. I'll try to be back by evening."
We exchanged a nod and parted ways.
I didn't head straight for the site, though. Instead, I made my way toward the mage who could locate people through her prophecies.
Cana. The girl who'd done a lot to introduce me and my sister to this guild, and who, by the way, had no small amount of magical potential. Unlike Mira, though, I'd failed to get her to push herself with everything she had. Instead, Cana had spent the past several years drinking heavily, occasionally going quiet with something weighing on her. She refused to share what it was.
Some things are out of my hands. And apparently, this arrangement suited her, or at least she acted like it did.
"Could I ask you something..." I approached Cana, who was currently attached to an enormous barrel of booze.
The barrel was set down, and a somewhat vacant gaze settled on me.
"Already done. Lisanna isn't in this world," she said, spreading a row of cards across the table in front of her. "Want some?"
She nodded toward the barrel.
"No. You know I don't drink."
"Right now's not a bad time to start."
"I'll pass, thanks. And thank you for the help."
"Hey... She was one of us. Fairy Tail. You didn't even have to ask," Cana sighed, picked up the barrel, and went right back to it.
I left without saying goodbye.
Out on the street, my magical reserves took a significant hit, and in the next instant my body crossed several hundred kilometers in a blink, arriving in the town nearest to where the Strauss siblings had taken their job.
"Time to find out what actually happened out there," I said to myself, taking in the people moving around me.
Few of them paid any attention to my arrival. Then I broke into a run, moving as fast as I could toward that spot.