Shadows and Promises

Axel did not rush after him. Instead, he began to advance slowly, step by step, each movement steady and deliberate. His breathing was heavy but controlled, and his eyes—those same eyes Lucy and Laxus thought they knew—glowed with something foreign, something more.

Lucy and Laxus stood frozen, unable to move, their minds struggling to catch up with what their eyes showed them. It wasn’t just Axel. The figure walking before them carried the weight of another presence, a shadow of someone they both remembered all too well. The way his silhouette shimmered in the faint light… it wasn’t the Axel of this world.

“...It’s him,” Lucy whispered, her voice trembling, but no one replied.

There was no time. Tyfo groaned and forced himself back to his feet, fury twisting his face. His movements were erratic, desperate. He lunged forward with raw speed, aiming a punch straight at Axel’s face. For a heartbeat, it seemed impossible for Axel to react in time—yet he did.

With a quick sidestep, he let Tyfo’s fist cut through empty air. Before Tyfo could recover, Axel’s hand slammed against his stomach. The blow was clean, merciless. Tyfo’s body bent under the strike, his breath ripped away as he collapsed to the ground once again, coughing violently.

But Axel didn’t stop there. He raised his hand, extending his index finger as though mimicking a gun. The gesture was strange, almost playful, yet there was nothing lighthearted about what followed.

A faint glow began to shine at the tip of his finger. At first, it was just a spark, but within seconds, it had grown into a blinding blue light. Sparks of energy danced wildly, converging into a compact sphere of power that pulsed with a dangerous hum. The glow painted Axel’s face in shades of cold blue, his expression unreadable.

Then, without hesitation, the sphere of energy shot forward like a bullet of pure light.

The blast slammed into Tyfo before he could move. The explosion of force knocked him back, hurling him across the ground, leaving him sprawled and motionless. Smoke curled up from his body, and silence fell over the battlefield.

Axel lowered his hand slowly, his chest rising and falling. His eyes softened slightly as he turned his head. Lucy and Laxus were still standing there, staring at him with wide eyes, unable to process the scene.

When Axel spoke, his voice carried both warmth and authority, the tone of someone who was himself yet also more.

“Lucy. Laxus. Take care of him.”

The words struck them deeply. The way he said “him,” as if he wasn’t speaking for himself, but through someone else.

And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the aura surrounding him vanished. The glowing silhouette faded like smoke in the wind. His body swayed once, twice—then collapsed forward, completely drained.

Before he could hit the ground, a blur of motion cut through the silence. The man with the eyepatch moved swiftly, catching Axel in his arms just in time. He lowered him carefully, protecting him from the harsh earth.

Lucy and Laxus remained frozen, their minds unable to move as quickly as reality. Silence stretched for several heartbeats, until Lucy finally found her voice.

“...Laxus,” she whispered, still staring at Axel’s unconscious body. “What was that? That was him. That was really him.”

Laxus’s jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed, but he did not look away from Axel. “I don’t know what happened,” he admitted. “But yes. That was him.” His voice dropped, quiet yet firm. “I didn’t trust this plan before… but now I’m more convinced than ever. We need him.”

Lucy’s lips parted as if to argue, but she found herself nodding instead. There was no denying it. She had seen it too.

Laxus exhaled sharply and glanced down at Axel. Carefully, he shifted the boy’s weight and handed him over to Lucy. She blinked, startled.

“Take him home,” Laxus said.

“What? But—”

He cut her off with a single look, then pointed to the bodies scattered across the ground. Tyfo, unconscious but alive. The debris of the fight littered around them. Lucy understood. Laxus needed to stay behind and erase every trace.

Reluctantly, she nodded, tightening her hold on Axel. “Alright,” she murmured, her tone unsteady. “I’ll take him.”

An hour later, the storm had passed.

The house was quiet, filled only with the faint ticking of a clock and the slow, steady breaths of Axel as he lay asleep on the couch. His face looked peaceful now, almost childlike, as if none of the chaos from earlier had touched him.

Lucy sat nearby, her hands folded on her lap, her gaze never leaving him. Laxus stood by the window, arms crossed, his figure rigid, his one visible eye sharp and thoughtful. They had spoken already, weighed their options, and their decision was firm.

At last, Axel stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, heavy and confused. He groaned softly as he pushed himself up to sit, his body sluggish. His head turned left, then right, catching sight of Lucy and Laxus watching him.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The silence pressed against the walls, until Axel finally broke it.

“So… I didn’t dream it, huh?” His voice was hoarse, uncertain. He rubbed his temple as if to chase away the memory, but it clung stubbornly. “...One question. What happened?”

Lucy and Laxus exchanged a glance, an unspoken conversation passing between them before Laxus answered.

“I took care of both of them,” he said simply. “You collapsed from the stress of the fight. It wasn’t a situation we wanted you involved in.”

Axel listened quietly, his gaze lowered. His fingers curled against the couch, and he spoke again, his voice heavier this time.

“No matter what I say… you’re going to take me, aren’t you?”

The weight of his words hung in the air. Lucy’s heart clenched, and she forced a soft smile, her voice gentle despite the truth she carried.

“Yes. We’d prefer not to kidnap you, you know?” she said, trying to lighten the moment, though guilt lingered beneath her tone. “But… we don’t have another choice. I’m sorry.”

Axel exhaled slowly, lowering his head. For a second, it seemed he might resist—but instead, he surprised them both.

“Alright,” he murmured. “But at least let me pack a suitcase. I don’t want to leave without… some things, you know?”

The small request pulled at Lucy’s chest. Laxus was the one to answer, his voice steady. “Fine. Tomorrow morning, we leave. Tonight, we rest.”

Axel leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. His thoughts were a storm, each crashing into the next, but there was one thread pulling him forward, a quiet instinct that refused to be silenced.

I don’t know what I’m getting into… he thought, fingers tightening against the cushion. But something tells me I have to go.