Beneath the glittering sea of stars, the emerald sphere gleamed brightly.
Zooming in, glaciers, mountain ranges, rivers, and lakes came into view in crystal clarity.
Closer still—at the feet of icy peaks and across vast plains—countless specks of life scurried about. Among them, one group was launching a surprise assault.
"Fairy Tail. Just a dark guild. Does it really take this much effort? Does command have nothing better to do?"
A young airborne officer lounged comfortably inside his command tent, both boots propped up on the desk. He glanced at the report in hand, then casually tossed it into the brazier.
What could a mere wizard guild possibly stir up in front of the Kingdom's regular army? Only those useless bureaucrats in the capital would waste time on such small fry. Utterly meaningless.
"Report!"
A shadow appeared outside the tent, voice booming.
"Enter," the officer said lazily, still staring at the tent ceiling as if his gaze could pierce through the fabric to see the blue sky beyond. "What's the matter? Did those Fairy Tail brats actually come charging out?"
"Sir, our magic artillery regiment has completed a saturation bombardment on the Fairy Tail guildhall. Target confirmed hit."
The reporting soldier stood like a spear, reading out the words from his notes.
"Mm. Good. Anything else?" The officer finally lowered his boots from the desk and feigned attentiveness.
"Yes, sir. In fact, during the last volley, nearly one-tenth of our magic cannons malfunctioned. Many soldiers were also injured by the explosions."
"That's it?" The officer leaned back again, reverting to his cavalier attitude, as if he hadn't heard the gravity of the issue.
"Sir, this is an extremely serious incident. If we can't find the cause, our artillery division will soon be crippled."
The soldier remained patient, carefully explaining the situation to this "parachuted" officer here merely to pad his résumé.
This was no small mishap. If the problem lay with logistics—supplies being tampered with—the entire department would be purged, its officers executed by firing squad. If it were an error in command or operation, none of them would escape punishment either. At best, they'd be stripped of rank and rot in prison for life.
In other words, it absolutely could not be their fault.
"You done? Get out," the officer snapped.
"Sir…"
Crack!
A crystal lamp smashed into the soldier's face, knocking him to the ground. Blood streamed from his forehead, leaving a deep dent where the blow landed.
"Someone drag this fool out," the officer barked toward the entrance. Several men quickly rushed in and hauled the injured soldier away.
Only then did the officer's expression change—his carelessness vanishing, replaced by cold calculation.
"So it really happened… just as Headquarters predicted. A miracle indeed."
A full tenth of the magic artillery exploding in a single volley? Of course, he knew how serious it was. Normally, he would have deflected blame as the soldier suggested—but command had already briefed him about this matter. And the secrecy level was sky-high.
"Since that's the case… time to put this little toy to use."
He gripped his left wrist with his right hand and twisted it. With a click, his entire left hand came off. At the socket, faint light shimmered.
It was a prosthetic—crafted with advanced magitech far beyond what the magic-starved world of Edolas should possess. Even more shocking, it functioned seamlessly: plug-and-play, no hindrance at all. In Aslant, such cutting-edge mechanical limbs were rare. Here in Edolas, they were practically unthinkable.
And yet one had been given to a so-called "resume-building officer."
"Input passcode: Eternal Magic."
At once, the prosthetic hand began to shift. Cracks opened along its surface, spilling bright blue light.
Then—boom!—the limb exploded outward into countless fragments. But a blue force field immediately activated, binding the fragments together. They swirled, recombining until they formed a glowing sphere suspended in the air.
Patterns etched themselves across its surface: oceans, continents, mountain ridges. Running a hand over it, one could feel every ridge and groove.
To anyone who had ever seen Edolas from orbit, the resemblance would be uncanny. It was a perfect scale model of the planet.
But such magitech shouldn't exist here. With mana so scarce, Edolas couldn't even afford large-scale magical engineering—let alone planetary modeling.
"Mind Armament. Target lock: (x115.89, y28.68). Third-tier activation. Engage."
The sphere floated upward, rotating slowly as it bathed the land below in emerald light.
At first, it seemed harmless—a special effect, nothing more. Even monsters roaming nearby ignored it.
Until it reached Fairy Tail.
In less than the blink of an eye, the emerald radiance swallowed the guild.
Beneath the guild, in the underground shelter, core members clustered around Levy, urging her to finish the evacuation spell.
Then—everything froze.
Every face grew serene, expressionless.
"Miss Lucy—what a close call that was!"
A golden glow wrapped Lucy Heartfilia just as the green light fell. When her vision cleared, she found herself inside the hollow base of an enormous clock. Above her, the clock's face bore the gentlemanly visage of a man with a neat mustache.
"Horologium?! How are you here? What just happened?" Lucy cried, terrified.
"The Celestial Spirit World connects to many realms. As long as we hold the keys, we can manifest in any of them. But the magic cost falls on us, so we can't stay long," the Clock Spirit explained warmly.
His face lit with joy as he added, "The Spirit King recently loosened restrictions. That's why I was able to come and save you, Miss Lucy."
"Thankfully, Spirits aren't bound by Edolas' laws. Otherwise…" Horologium's eyes flickered with unease. Edolas truly was an uncanny place.
In most worlds, even if mana was thin, at worst, spells grew weaker. But to forbid magic entirely? That was unnatural.
"Everyone—wake up!"
Lucy's scream broke through her thoughts. In the crowd of blank-eyed guild members, only two figures still had their wits: Dorachion and Edowendy.
A faint white aura clung to them as they shook their comrades desperately. Dorachion seized Edolucy, shaking her shoulders.
For a moment, hope stirred—some guild members began to stir.
But then Dorachion's face froze.
The "awakened" guild members turned in unison. Their eyes were void, lifeless, reflecting only the figures of Dorachion, Edowendy, and Lucy.
"You three… so you're the ones our lord seeks. Hmph. Don't look so special to me."
The voice belonged to the young officer—now speaking through Edotroi's body. He ignored Dorachion's furious question and barked an order:
"Seize them!"
At once, Fairy Tail turned against itself.
Swords, axes, and hammers struck with deadly arcs. Wands spat fire and frost. Vines burst from the ground. Ghostly afterimages of footwork blurred as guildmates attacked their own.
The onslaught hurled Dorachion and Edowendy back. Only Lucy, protected by Horologium, managed to hold her ground.
"Horologium! Let me out! Summon the others—now!" Lucy shouted, panic rising as waves of magic attacks slammed into the clock's barrier.
"As you wish."
After clothing Lucy in a protective robe, the Clock Spirit vanished. Lucy darted forward, racing straight toward the possessed Edotroi.
(Author's Note: In the original canon, only Lucy—after eating an Ex-Ball—could use Celestial Spirits in Edolas. Spirits themselves, however, were never described as eating the ball, yet could still use magic. So here, I've set it that Celestial Spirits can act freely. Please don't nitpick too hard.)