We ran.
Well, the verb "to run" is perhaps a little too generous for my situation. Erza ran. I… I was carried. Like a sack of potatoes. An ancestral, powerful, and deeply humiliated sack of potatoes, but a sack of potatoes nonetheless.
And yes, it was as dignified as it sounds.
"I can walk," I protested for the third time, my voice muffled against the fabric of her clothing as my face swung dangerously close to her waist with every hurried step. She had thrown me over her shoulder without the slightest ceremony after my legs, in an act of absolute betrayal, had decided to turn to jelly after exactly three steps.
Three. Steps.
"No, you can't," Erza replied, her voice firm and not at all breathless, despite carrying me and running at full speed through a collapsing tower. What a show-off.
"I technically can—"
"You fell flat on your face, Azra'il."
"It was a tactical and strategic trip," I argued. "A distraction manoeuvre."
"You stayed there. Motionless. For five seconds."
"…I was assessing the structural integrity of the crystal," I lied blatantly.
"With your face on the floor?"
"It's an underestimated angle for terrain analysis."
(Eos, this is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me in this incarnation.)
[Technically, in your thirty-fourth life, when you were accidentally turned into a flamingo by an incompetent mage—]
(I said IN THIS life, Eos. Try to keep up.)
[Ah. In that case, yes. Statistically speaking, being carried like a "sack of potatoes" by your beloved while you are temporarily incapacitated is probably the lowest point of dignity recorded in your current existence. My congratulations.]
(I hate you.)
[You always say that, but your biometric readings indicate otherwise.]
The worst part, what made the whole situation a thousand times more embarrassing, was the view. From my angle, hanging over Erza's strong shoulder like a particularly pathetic catch, I had a privileged and rather intimate view of her rear. And of the white and silver hanfu she was still wearing. And of the way the silk fabric moved gracefully as she ran.
Under any other circumstances, I would have, for sure, appreciated the view with a purely… academic interest, of course. But in this specific circumstance, with Simon running right behind us and the tower collapsing, I just wanted a hole to open in the crystal floor and swallow me whole.
"Can you please, at least carry me in a slightly more dignified manner?" I asked, my voice muffled.
"This way is faster and more efficient."
"This way makes me look like a dead fish being taken to market."
"A very light dead fish. You should eat more."
"Erza, I swear by all the gods that I will—"
"Azra'il. I am running for our lives." Her tone brooked no argument.
Beside us, Simon kept pace, his heavy footsteps echoing on the crystal that was cracking under our feet. At least he, in his kindness, had the decency to pretend he didn't see me being carried like an unwanted piece of luggage.
"The others have already left the tower," he said, panting, his eyes firmly focused on the corridor ahead, avoiding my humiliated gaze. "We managed to get everyone on the boat. They are waiting for us in a safe location, on the outskirts of the tower."
"Good," Erza said, leaping nimbly over a large fallen piece of crystal that was blocking the path.
I swung. Like a pendulum. A very, very humiliated pendulum.
"It was a struggle to get Natsu on the boat," Simon continued, and there was a clear tone of trauma in his voice. "He wanted, at all costs, to come after you two. We had to hold him down with five people."
"Typical of Natsu," Erza said, and I could hear a faint smile in her voice.
"And he bit Gray. Twice."
"Only twice? He's losing his touch."
"And he nearly set fire to the boat when Millianna, in a moment of desperation, tried to tie him up with a rope."
"Ah, the classic incendiary panic attack. Good times."
I huffed, or at least I tried to. It's surprisingly difficult to huff properly when you're upside down and all the blood is in your head.
"In the end," Simon said, with a tired sigh, "Lucy had to solemnly promise that he could punch Jellal's face when you got back."
"That's going to be a bit difficult to fulfil," I muttered, my voice muffled against her armour. "Considering that Jellal, by now, is probably going to become a permanent part of this tower's décor."
Simon, at last, looked at me. Which meant he looked at my face hanging at the level of Erza's arse. Which, somehow, managed to increase my humiliation by approximately three hundred per cent.
"Are you… uh… are you alright down there?" he asked, with the delicacy of an elephant.
"Never been better, big man. I love being carried like a sack of potatoes while the entire tower collapses around me. It's my life's dream."
"She's fine," Erza translated, with an irritating tranquillity. "She's just being a bit dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic. I am justifiably indignant at my current situation."
"It's the same thing."
The tower trembled violently, a tremor that came from the foundations and shook every crystal. Erza, to balance herself, adjusted her grip on me, which meant she basically held my arse firmly so I wouldn't fall.
"Erza." My voice came out a little strangled.
"W-what is it now?"
"Your hand."
"I-I'm just holding you so you don't fall!"
"Yes, I know, but your hand is right in the middle of my—"
"I KNOW WHERE MY HAND IS!"
I didn't need to see her face to know, with all the certainty in the universe, that it was redder than her own hair. Her voice went up at least two octaves, which was delightful to hear.
"You're… uh… squeezing."
"…I'm sorry."
Her hand relaxed a little. But, curiously, it didn't move. And I could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks through her clothes.
Simon, who had apparently heard the entire embarrassing exchange, was now staring fixedly ahead with the expression of a man who suddenly, very much wanted to be anywhere else in the universe. A wise decision on his part.
Crystals the size of cars began to fall from the ceiling, turning our run into a deadly dance. The walls were cracking and fragmenting, and the entire structure was groaning under the pressure of the unstable magical energy it could no longer contain.
And, even upside down, I could feel it. The energy. Accumulating. Growing. About to explode.
(Eos, status. Now.)
[Approximately 5 minutes until total structural collapse and the subsequent energy release.]
(About the Etherion explosion… What's the blast radius going to be, more or less?)
[If the energy is released in an uncontrolled and omnidirectional manner, the primary destruction radius will be approximately tens of kilometres. With significant secondary damage extending even further.]
All the humour, all the embarrassment, everything vanished from my body in an instant.
(Tens of kilometres. The boat. The others.)
[They are currently approximately 3 kilometres from the tower. Well within the primary destruction radius.]
(Bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger.)
"Erza, stop."
She didn't stop, leaping over another chasm that was opening in the floor.
"ERZA. STOP. NOW."
Something in my tone, the cold and absolute urgency, must have registered, because she stopped immediately, in the middle of a corridor that looked a little more stable than the others.
"What is it, Azra'il?"
"Put me down."
"But, Azra'il, you can't—"
"Erza, for the love of the gods, put me down."
With a visible hesitation, she carefully placed me on the floor. I immediately leaned on her to keep from falling, my legs still feeling like jelly. Brilliant. Very dignified.
"We have a problem," I said, my voice serious. "A much bigger problem than just this tower falling on our heads."
Simon and Erza exchanged a worried look.
"The Etherion explosion…" Erza said, her face paling. With her magical sensitivity, she was probably also already feeling the chaotic energy accumulating in the lacrimas.
"Yes, we know the tower is going to explode, Erza. But the question is: do you know the size of the explosion?"
The tense silence that followed was answer enough.
"If all this energy is released at once, without any direction, the blast radius will cover tens of kilometres."
And I saw the blood drain completely from Simon's face.
"That much… impossible…" he choked out. "But the boat… the others…"
"They are right on the outskirts. They will be directly hit by the explosion."
The colour, which had just returned to Erza's cheeks, vanished again.
"The others," she whispered, her voice full of a newfound horror. "Natsu… Lucy… Gray… all of them—"
"Will turn into magic dust," I completed, bluntly. "Unless… unless someone directs all that energy somewhere else. Upwards. Away from them."
And Erza's eyes met mine. And I saw, with a painful clarity, the exact moment she connected all the dots.
"No." The word left her lips as a whisper, but it carried the force of thunder.
"Erza, it's the only—"
"NO." Her voice, now, was pure steel. "You can barely stand, Azra'il! I had to carry you like a… you can barely STAND!"
"Yes, I'm aware of that. Thank you for reminding me of my humiliation."
"You used that… that thing! That strange power of yours! And you almost collapsed in the process!"
"Yes, I'm aware of that too."
"So how, in the name of everything, do you expect to do anything in the state you're in?!"
"Because, my dear and overly concerned little red, I know exactly what I am doing."
My answer came out calm. Confident. Perhaps a little more confident than I actually felt inside, considering the lamentable state of my body. But Erza didn't need to know that.
"I am not suicidal, Erza. And, for the most part, I am definitely not stupid." I met her eyes, and held the contact, letting her see my conviction. "If I wasn't absolutely sure that I can do this and come out alive, I swear to you, I would have already jumped from this tower and swum away."
She hesitated. And I could see the struggle going on behind those beautiful and stubborn brown eyes of hers. The overwhelming desire to protect me, battling fiercely against the cold and inescapable logic of what I was saying.
"Do you… do you promise?" Her voice, suddenly, came out smaller, more vulnerable than I expected. "Do you promise me that you're not just… sacrificing yourself?"
(Ah, Erza. Always so noble. Always so worried about others.)
"I promise," I said, and a small, genuine smile touched my lips. "And besides, do you really think I would let you see me die in such a dramatic way? You would never, ever let me forget it. It would be terribly embarrassing."
And she blinked, confused.
"That… that makes no sense."
"It makes perfect sense. You'd be angry with me for the rest of eternity. 'Azra'il, how DARE you die in front of me in such a melodramatic fashion?!'" I imitated her voice, with a commanding tone. "I can even hear you."
"I don't sound like that!"
"You do, a little."
"I do not!"
"Little red, you literally shouted at me for five minutes straight last week because I called your strawberry cake 'just okay'."
And her face, to my absolute delight, turned red.
"That cake was PERFECT, you just have a palate that is too refined…!" She stopped mid-sentence, realising that she was, inadvertently, proving my point. "…This isn't fair."
"Life, my little red, is rarely fair." I shrugged, with a lightness I did not feel. "But, even so, I intend to keep living it. Anyway."
[Approximately 4 minutes until structural collapse,] Eos's voice sounded in my mind, ever so timely to spoil a moment.
The tower trembled again, more forcefully this time, but I kept my gaze fixed on hers.
"And," I said, my voice suddenly growing a little softer, more serious, "there is another very important reason."
"Which is?"
"I… I still haven't taken you on a real date."
And Erza, the great and powerful Titania, simply froze in place.
"W-what did you say?"
"A date. You know, that strange thing that people who, apparently, fancy each other do? It involves dinner, maybe a walk under the moonlight, and, with any luck, a dessert… if you behave, of course." With an effort, I tilted my head, trying to look casual. "I have plans, Erza Scarlet. Plans that, for your information, involve you, a restaurant with ridiculously large portions of food, and me, finally, managing to impress you without a cursed tower collapsing around us. It would be a pleasant change of scenery."
"You…" Erza seemed to be having genuine difficulty processing my words, connecting the current situation with the concept of a "date." "You… you are talking about dates while the entire tower is literally EXPLODING?"
"I am talking about motivation, Erza," I smiled, and this time, it was a genuine and slightly silly smile. "And, at the moment, my main motivation is to survive this mess. Because I, Azra'il Weiss, am not, under any circumstances, going to die before I take you to dinner. It would be a terrible waste of good planning."
"You are…" and Erza, the woman who faced demons, monsters, and armies, shook her head in pure and absolute disbelief. But I saw it, I saw the corner of her mouth tremble, fighting against a smile. "You are completely impossible."
"I prefer the term 'highly determined'."
"Silly." The word, when it left her lips, was soft. Almost… affectionate. "You are a complete silly, Azra'il."
"Your silly, apparently. If you accept the dinner invitation, of course."
And Erza looked at me. For a long, long moment that felt like an eternity. The tower was trembling around us. Crystals were raining from the ceiling. Time, literally, was running out.
And then, to my total and absolute surprise, she did the last thing that I, in all my lives and with all my wisdom, had expected.
She kissed me.
It wasn't a long or passionate kiss; we didn't have time for that. And frankly, I don't think she would have known how to do that properly at the moment. It was quick, it was firm, it was a little clumsy, and totally, completely unexpected. Her lips, soft and a little salty from the sea, pressed against mine for perhaps three glorious and paralysing seconds before she pulled away, her face now completely red.
But those three seconds?
Ah, those three seconds were worth more than millennia of battles and conquests.
"That," Erza said, her voice now firm, despite her flaming face, her brown eyes shining with an intensity that took my breath away, "is so you have even more reason to come back. And quickly."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
(My brain… I think my brain has stopped working.)
[Azra'il, your vital signs indicate an unprecedented peak of neural and cardiovascular activity. Should I infer that—]
(Shut your bloody mouth, Eos.)
[…Understood. Logging the event as "gay panic in a critical moment of existential crisis."]
"I…" My voice, when I finally found it, came out strangely high-pitched and utterly unworthy of an ancestral entity. "I… I am definitely, with all certainty, coming back now."
"Good," she said, with a nod.
"Like. Very, very, very definitely. Without the slightest doubt."
"Brilliant."
"And that restaurant, Erza? It's going to serve the biggest portion you've ever seen in your entire life."
And Erza, my Erza, laughed. A small, slightly desperate, but genuine and absolutely beautiful sound, that echoed through the collapsing corridor.
"Then go, you silly," she said, with a softness that made my heart give another lurch. And, with a gentleness I hadn't expected, she gently pushed me towards the pulsating Lacrima in the centre of the tower. "And come back to me, Azra'il. Please."
[3 minutes remaining until collapse.]
Simon, the gentle giant who had silently witnessed this entire incredibly embarrassing and romantic scene with the expression of someone who desperately wanted to be anywhere else in the universe, finally cleared his throat.
"I… I think I'll go on ahead. To prepare the boat," he said, already walking backwards. "Good luck there. With the tower. And with… uh… with the other things too."
And, with a speed I didn't know he possessed, he practically fled. A wise decision.
Erza was still looking at me, her face still red, but her eyes now filled with a fierce determination and a silent promise.
"If you, by any chance, die here, Azra'il," she said, her voice now serious, "I swear I will resurrect you, somehow, just so I can have the pleasure of killing you again myself."
"Noted. And fair."
"And then," she added, with a glint in her eyes, "I will resurrect you one more time so you can finally pay for that dinner."
"Even fairer."
With one last, firm nod full of meaning, she finally turned and ran after Simon, leaving me behind with my heart beating wildly and a silly smile on my face.
I watched her go, my lips still tingling with the memory of the kiss.
(Eos?)
[Yes, Azra'il?]
(I, under no circumstances, can die now. That would be terribly anticlimactic.)
[I completely agree. It would be, statistically speaking, the worst and most unsatisfying possible timing for a death.]
(It's not about the timing, you heartless rust bucket.)
[I know.] And there was a pause, before her voice sounded again, this time with something I could almost mistake for… affection. [Good luck, Azra'il.]
I turned to the pulsating Lacrima, the silly smile still stubbornly stuck on my face.
(Time to save everyone. And to ensure I get my dessert.)
[Approximately 2 minutes and 30 seconds remaining.]
With an effort that cost me dearly, I walked, or rather, I pathetically dragged myself to the Lacrima. Which was deeply irritating, considering that the amount of energy contained in that giant crystal was not even close to the most powerful thing I had ever had to manipulate in my many and varied lives.
2.7 billion Ideals was, indeed, a colossal amount of energy for an ordinary mage.
But for me? For me it was just… a particularly busy Tuesday.
The real problem, I knew, was not the amount of power. The problem was the deplorable and frankly shameful state of my current body.
(Eos, give me an honest analysis. And be quick.)
[Your physical body is currently operating at approximately 12% of its normal combat capacity. Your magical and Ki cores are intact. However, your magical channels and meridians are in a lamentable state, almost in tatters, and the physical structure that supports them is severely compromised by exhaustion and the use of cosmic energy.]
(Okay, now translate that into a language a stupid mortal can understand.)
[You are, essentially, a high-performance racing car, with the perfect and indestructible engine of a god, but all your tyres are flat, your radiator is leaking oil, and someone, for some reason, has torn out the steering wheel and replaced it with a mouldy loaf of bread.]
(That's a terrible image.)
[You asked for normal language, Azra'il. Not an optimistic and flowery one.]
(Fair. Very fair.)
[Approximately 2 minutes remaining.]
With one last sigh, I stopped before a gelatinous wall of Lacrima. The energy within it was pulsing with an almost palpable urgency, unstable, desperately searching for an outlet, for any outlet. For any other mage, even for Master Makarov in his Titan form, to touch that would be an act of suicide. To touch 2.7 billion uncontrolled Ideals would fry a normal person's body and soul in less than a second.
But I was not at all normal.
And the energy that, at that moment, I kept carefully sealed and chained within my own soul, made all the energy contained in that giant Lacrima seem like a mere and insignificant candle, compared to a volcano in full and glorious eruption.
The problem, as always, was not the power. The problem was convincing my small, exhausted, and stubborn body to cooperate with my plans.
(Eos, tell me what the real risk is here. Without metaphors about cars and mouldy bread, please.)
[The risk is not the tower's energy overwhelming you. You can manipulate that amount of power with ease, even in your current state. The risk, Azra'il, is your own physical body collapsing during the redirection process. If you lose consciousness before you complete the channel, the energy, without a guide, will disperse chaotically and uncontrollably. The explosion will happen just the same.]
(So, in other words, I need to hold on for how long, exactly?)
[Approximately 90 seconds for a complete and safe transfer of all the energy, according to my projections.]
(Ninety seconds. A minute and a half. I… I can do this. I have to.)
[Your current vital signs suggest that this experience will be… extremely and profoundly uncomfortable for you.]
(And when is it not, Eos? When is it not?)
I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes. And I touched the crystal.
The energy flowed into me. And, as I had expected, it was almost… easy to control.
To direct the concentrated power of the Etherion was, for me, like guiding the course of a river. The energy, in its essence, wanted to go somewhere; it was desperate for a path, for an outlet. And I, with my vast experience, simply… showed it the way. Upwards. Through the structure of the tower. Towards the open sky and the distant stars.
The problem itself, as Eos had predicted, was my body.
Every nerve, every fibre, every cell of my being began to scream in a chorus of pure agony. Not because the tower's energy was too much for me. But because my exhausted muscles, my aching bones, my physical structure completely destroyed by having used, even for a brief instant, the cosmic and overwhelming power of the Phoenix, was now being forced to serve, once again, as a conductor for a colossal amount of energy.
It was like trying to run a marathon with two broken legs. Not because you don't know how to run, or because you don't have the necessary stamina. But because your body, simply, can no longer obey you.
[60 seconds remaining. Energy transfer at 73%. Your vital signs are, as predicted, deteriorating rapidly.]
(I know, Eos. I can feel it.)
My vision, slowly, began to darken at the edges. A creeping darkness, caused not by magic, but by the purest and simplest exhaustion. My body was, literally, beginning to shut down, in a desperate attempt to protect itself from me and my stubbornness.
But I couldn't stop.
I wasn't going to stop.
Not now.
"That's so you have even more reason to come back."
Erza's face. The kiss. The silent promise in her eyes.
(I will not faint. I will not fall. I will not… fail…)
[45 seconds. 89% of energy transferred.]
And my legs, at last, gave way.
I fell to my knees on the crystal floor, but with one last effort of will, I kept my hand firmly pressed against the pulsating crystal. The energy continued to flow. Upwards. Away.
[30 seconds. 94%. It's almost over, Azra'il. Hold on.]
(Eos… I… I don't think I'm going to be able to stay conscious for much longer…)
[Your body is wrong. And you know it. You are far, far stronger than it is.]
[15 seconds. 97% transferred.]
Everything around me was dark now. I could no longer see anything. I could no longer feel my legs, my arms, nothing but the connection to the tower's energy.
And, in the midst of that darkness, a single voice echoed in my head, like a beacon in a storm.
"Come back to me."
[5 seconds remaining.]
[4.]
[3.]
[2.]
[1.]
[Energy transfer complete. The tower is safe.]
With a final sigh, I let go of the crystal.
And the world, at last, disappeared.
-------------
💬 Author's Note
------------
AND WELL… IT HAPPENED.
After almost 120 chapters...
THEY FINALLY KISSED.
First of all: congratulations to my patient readers who survived this slow-burn romantic combustion 😂
I know that compared to many fanfics, the romance in my stories takes quite a long time to truly happen. Usually in a lot of fanfics, the protagonist already has a harem by chapter 15, and by chapter 20 there's already SMUT happening on top of some random table.
But personally, I like building the relationship first.
Especially with characters like Erza and Azra'il. It wouldn't make sense to me for them to just suddenly fall in love out of nowhere and that's it. I wanted to develop trust, intimacy, companionship, genuine concern, and that feeling of "this person became way too important to me before I even realized it."
So yes, it took a while.
A LONG while.
But they finally stopped dancing around their feelings like two emotionally compromised idiots and took a huge step forward.
And honestly? Erza choosing to kiss Azra'il in the middle of an exploding tower is probably the most Fairy Tail thing possible.
Normal romance?
No.
Gay panic during an extreme life-threatening situation.
Much better.
Now there is officially a date waiting to happen, a promise to come back alive, and one dangerously in-love redhead.
Azra'il genuinely cannot die now. The situation has become serious.