Rain fell in a soft drizzle over Magnolia, turning the cobbled streets into mirrors of blurred lantern light. The usually rowdy Fairy Tail guild was subdued tonight, most members quietly gathered indoors, enjoying warmth and company. But Ren sat alone on the back steps, his cloak damp, the scent of wet earth heavy in the air.
He was staring at his hand—pale fingers veined with the faint shimmer of his Anti-Magic, still reacting from the vision days earlier. The crystal, the ruins, the whispered phrase:
> You are not the only one.
It had settled in his mind like poison.
"Brooding doesn't suit you," a quiet voice said behind him.
Ren didn't turn, but he smiled faintly. "Wasn't brooding. Just… contemplating."
Erza sat beside him, her scarlet hair catching the lamplight. She didn't speak for a moment, simply pulled her knees to her chest and stared into the misty alley beyond.
"Do you think you were meant to be here?" Ren asked finally.
She raised an eyebrow. "In Fairy Tail?"
"In this world."
She was quiet. Then: "No. Not at first."
That surprised him. "You've always been strong. Respected."
"I was also enslaved. Tortured. Raised in a prison where names were stolen, and only fear had power." Her voice didn't tremble. "I wasn't 'wanted' anywhere until I chose to be."
Ren's throat tightened. "I didn't know…"
She glanced at him. "It's not your past I'm talking about. It's your eyes. You wear the same look I used to. Like you're waiting for someone to call you a mistake."
He turned away, shame flickering across his features.
"I was reborn here," he said. "Dropped into a world I only knew from stories. I should be grateful. But this magic inside me—it's not Fairy Tail. It's something else. Something wrong. It destroys. Unravels."
Erza placed a hand over his.
"You're not the only one who's felt that way."
---
Earlier that day, while the storm had still brewed in the distance, Ren had walked through Magnolia's outskirts, trying to clear his head. That's when he saw her—a girl no older than ten, alone on the bridge near the eastern gate, throwing stones into the river.
She looked like she hadn't eaten in days. Her clothes were torn, and her arms were covered in bruises that hadn't healed properly.
"Are you lost?" Ren asked gently.
She flinched. Her eyes glowed a strange yellow for just a second. "Don't come near me."
"I won't hurt you," he said.
"You can't," she whispered. "Nothing can."
Ren stopped in his tracks.
"Because I'm cursed," she continued. "My magic kills. That's why they abandoned me."
He knelt a few steps away. "What kind of magic?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she reached into her cloak and pulled out a shard of glass. With a single breath, she whispered something—and the glass vibrated violently, then shattered into dust.
Ren felt it instantly. The air bent. Time hiccupped. Reality strained.
Distortion Magic.
The same kind of aura he felt in the Ruins.
"You're like me," he said softly. "Your magic isn't from this world."
She looked at him, fearful. "Then you'll leave me, too."
"No," he said. "Because I know what it means to be unwanted."
---
Back on the guild steps, Erza nodded when Ren told her the story.
"She has a piece of the same energy we found in the ruins," he said. "It's like a virus... infecting people. Warping them."
"Or binding them," Erza said. "You, her… others, maybe. The scroll said 'Sealbearer.' If there are others—"
"There are," Ren said. "The crystal showed me. I'm not the only one carrying this curse."
Makarov's voice echoed suddenly from behind them. "Then it's time we stopped calling it a curse."
The old Master stepped into the light, leaning on his cane. "Ren. You were brought here for a reason. I don't believe in coincidences, and I certainly don't believe a magic like yours just slips through the cracks."
"I didn't ask for this power," Ren said.
"Most people don't," Makarov replied. "But we decide what to do with it."
He placed a sealed scroll in Ren's hand.
"This came today. Another one. From the same writer."
Ren opened it, heart thudding.
> To the Sealbearer:
You are not alone.
Come to the Ashen Peaks.
The Second Awaits.
Beneath the message, an image—drawn in rough charcoal. A figure in a dark cloak with glowing yellow eyes… and behind them, a dragon made of smoke and bones.
"The Second?" Erza asked.
"Another Anti-Magic user," Makarov said grimly. "And if the first was found through a crystal that nearly broke you… we need to be ready."
Ren looked down at the girl's face in his memory. Her magic, her eyes—she was tied to this.
"I want to find her again," he said. "Help her. Like Fairy Tail helped me."
Makarov smiled. "Then you're already one of us."
Erza stood, armor glinting. "We go at first light."
---
That night, as the storm faded and the stars blinked through silver clouds, Ren felt something he hadn't felt since arriving in this world.
Hope.
Not because the darkness was gone, but because—for once—he didn't have to face it alone.