Six to three. The proposal passes.
The last hand fell, and the vote regarding the Etherion proposal came to an end.
Six in favor, three against. Not exactly an overwhelming majority. Compared to the brilliance of the original timeline's eight-to-one victory, it felt lacking—but here and now, it was enough to decide everything.
"We should repent…" Ajima muttered, his face heavy with sorrow. He slammed his fist onto the table, stood up abruptly, and left the chamber.
"But it is necessary. If Zeref is resurrected, the destruction that follows will far exceed anything Etherion could cause."
Jellal—no, Siegrein—rose to his feet, answering Ajima's words before striding out in the opposite direction.
"One hour from now, Etherion will be fired. I suggest everyone prepare themselves."
Ultear smiled faintly, giving the other councilors a polite nod before excusing herself.
Most of those still seated remained silent.
Opposing the motion did not mean they wanted Zeref revived—it simply meant they felt no choice they made could truly prevent the tragedy.
Supporting the motion didn't mean they were heartless toward the innocent lives that would be consumed by Etherion, either.
Someone's gaze drifted briefly toward the direction of the control room for the "Orbit" array, before returning quietly to the table.
Tower of Heaven.
"It worked."
Jellal crossed his arms, his expression devoid of joy or sorrow as the council's decision reached him. "But… not completely."
Rising from his throne, he turned a cold glare toward the three assassins of the Trinity Raven who had come before him.
"So, you intend to betray me?"
"Lord Jellal, you must be joking," the spiky-haired guitarist sneered, strumming a note as his fingers brushed menacingly across the strings. "We know well the extent of your power and cunning. How could we dare betray you? We only wish you would reconsider…"
CLANG!
The air rippled, light twisting violently—revealing Simon and the others, their faces vacant and lifeless, exactly like when Erza had been struck before.
For an instant, Jellal's focus wavered.
That instant was all Ikaruga needed.
Her mind and blade became one, her strike absolute. The razor-edge cut through everything—even thought itself. Space split, and in that heartbeat, Jellal's consciousness was severed.
Buzz.
Darkness bled into vision. On the throne, the figure once brimming with absolute dominance grew still. His breath steadied, and the light in his eyes faded away.
"Did… we succeed?"
Ikaruga's voice trembled with disbelief. To think that someone of Jellal's level could be felled so cleanly in a single strike, even if it was by ambush.
"Your swordsmanship has improved again."
"Impressive."
Her two companions praised her in awe.
First Erza, and now Jellal. One is nearly Saint-level, the other a member of the Ten Wizard Saints themselves. Both were brought down in succession. Even if only through surprise attacks, it was still extraordinary.
But Ikaruga's brows furrowed. She ran a hand slowly over her scabbard. Something felt… off.
The sensation of cutting Jellal was strange. For someone with such immense magical power, the resistance of his body should have been entirely different from that of low-level mages. Yet her strike felt almost similar to cutting through one of those weaker beings—though with just a hint of strength beneath the surface. Contradictory, inconsistent.
"…So, what now? How do we proceed with the ritual?"
The spiky-haired man voiced the obvious. They had struck first, betraying their master to ensure their safety—but now? Jellal had never shared the full details of his plans.
The promise of resurrecting Zeref and ruling the world was right in front of them… yet they had no idea how to unlock it.
To stand before treasure yet lack the key—it was maddening.
"There is no need to rush. Surely Lord Jellal prepared for this long ago."
Ikaruga cradled her blade in her arms like a mother with a newborn child, her voice strangely gentle.
"Huh? What do you mean?" asked the long-haired one. Owl twisted his neck a full one-eighty, equally confused.
"The Tower of Heaven… look at its construction."
Ikaruga's tone was casual, but her words struck like a revelation.
"It's built mostly from ordinary stone and timber. Only a few places contain traces of magic."
"That's… impossible." The long-haired man froze, realization dawning. "A structure built from mere brick and mortar—even as massive as this—would be useless! At best, just a pile of pretty stones!"
Only a structure infused with magic could channel the miraculous effects required of the R-System.
The true Tower of Heaven could not be like this.
Otherwise, why bother gathering so many laborers, wasting time and resources? A skilled mage could have simply carved a grand magic circle and achieved far more with far less.
This meant one thing: what stood before them was incomplete.
The R-System had a hidden flaw. Something is still missing. Something is waiting for the right trigger to reveal itself.
"And who better to know that truth than Lord Jellal?" Ikaruga continued. "Perhaps even the Council's response was accounted for in his designs. Perhaps he has even placed pawns among them, to cooperate with his plan."
"Exactly." She nodded once. With the intelligence they had, this was the only conclusion.
Now, all they could do was wait.
"Owl." Ikaruga glanced toward the owl-like man.
Understanding instantly, Owl scooped up both her and the long-haired man before soaring into the skies.
Mid-flight, the long-haired one reached a hand back toward Jellal's body. A corpse of a Wizard Saint would fetch a price—or serve as a powerful asset.
But Ikaruga stopped him.
"Leave him. If I am wrong, he dies here. If I am right… It doesn't matter where he lies."
"…Fair enough."
"Then let us see, Lord Jellal—what grand design you've hidden."
The Tower of Heaven shrank beneath them as they flew, and Ikaruga's eyes shone with growing excitement.
"Those traitors… how dare they."
In the Etherion control chamber, council staff worked in feverish rhythm, pouring magic into the core. Siegrein—his projection—watched from the second floor.
Suddenly, his knees buckled, nearly sending him crashing to the ground.
"Lord Siegrein!" Ultear rushed to his side, catching him. "Are you alright?"
"I feel… unwell. I'll return to rest." He steadied himself on her shoulder, forcing composure. After a pause, he offered the gathered mages an apologetic nod.
"You—… tsk, fine. Go."
Org clicked his tongue in irritation, clearly displeased at Siegrein withdrawing right before Etherion's launch. But he waved him off regardless.
"…I'll be going, then."
The moment Siegrein turned, his face became stone—cold, expressionless, his heart seething with rage at the Trinity Raven.
If not for his true body sharing the damage through special magic, if not for the fact that this was merely a Thought Projection, different from flesh and blood… he would have been erased by that strike.
The humiliation burned in him. To think that in the final moments of his perfect plan, such a disgrace would occur.
Unforgivable.
Behind him, the councilors and staff paid him little mind, throwing themselves back into the work at hand.
"Magic charge: 100%."
"Calibration complete. Target locked."
"…Etherion is ready for firing."
The lacrima monitors glowed fully green.
The councilors' faces were grave.
"Everyone… pray. Pray for the lives we are about to take."
Org stepped forward, spreading his arms as though to embrace the heavens, sorrow etched into his face. Then his voice hardened.
"But this is necessary. To prevent the resurrection of the most evil dark mage, Zeref—to avert a catastrophe far greater—we must bear this burden."
"The Council will face condemnation for this. When it comes, I trust each of you will remember your duty… and hold fast."
"Ten seconds of silence. Then fire Etherion."
The chamber fell still. One by one, they closed their eyes.
Among the stars above, a colossal magic array unfolded, stretching kilometers across. Layer upon layer spread outward as atmospheric magic gathered in torrents.
Even the great "Orbit" itself was pulled into resonance, drawing the watchful gaze of Precht.
A searing light burst forth—like a pillar connecting heaven and earth.
Skies split, storms howled, waves surged. In an instant, all in its path was obliterated.
The beam struck the Tower of Heaven.
Infinite light.
Infinite heat.
Infinite dust.
The world exploded.