The guild was loud as always, but something had shifted. Beneath the laughter, the mugs of ale, and the brawls that usually broke out before noon, there was a faint tension in the air. Whispers carried about Eisenwald—rumors of a dark guild moving in secret, gathering strength.
I sat in my usual corner, notebook open, pen scratching across the page. To the others, it probably looked like I was doodling or jotting down half-baked job notes, but what filled the pages were diagrams of entire defense networks:
Hidden bunkers beneath Magnolia, lined with bedrock walls no spell could break.
Potion chambers where regeneration, resistance, and strength effects could be brewed endlessly.
Modern defenses—turrets, lightning rods, and barriers layered with enchantments stronger than any rune array the Council could design.
Escape portals, disguised as ordinary floor tiles, that could whisk guild members to safety in an instant.
Even when I closed the book, the plans kept racing through my mind.
Because I knew.
The rogue mage we fought before was only a ripple. Something much larger was coming.
And if the timeline really was bending around me, if Fairy Tail's story was already straying from what I remembered, then I had to be ready for anything—Erigor, Oración Seis, even Acnologia sooner than expected.
My hand tightened around the pen. I need to be prepared. For Fairy Tail. For this guild. For the world.
The days blurred together in a haze of training, construction, and research. At night, I would sit in my villa's study, watching as summoned golems laid down foundations for underground tunnels. By morning, the blueprints had already been adjusted, refined with whatever new ideas struck me in my dreams.
Occasionally, guildmates would wander over."Oi, Arashi," Cana teased once, spotting the endless scrolls of notes. "You planning world domination or something?"I smirked. "World protection."She laughed, shaking her head. "Same thing, depending on who you ask."
Even Natsu peeked over my shoulder once. "Whoa… is that a giant… metal snake?""It's called a train, Natsu.""...Can we fight it?""No."
Sometimes, I wondered if I was over-preparing. But every time the thought surfaced, I remembered Lullaby's cursed song. I remembered how fragile this world really was.
One evening, as the sun set and Magnolia was painted in warm hues, Master Makarov called me to his office. The old man sat behind his desk, pipe in hand, eyes studying me with a weight that made the room feel smaller.
"You've been working hard, Arashi," he said, puffing smoke into the air.I shrugged. "Just… preparing. In case things go wrong."He chuckled. "That caution of yours is good. Fairy Tail needs hotheads, but it also needs pillars." His eyes softened. "But don't carry it all alone, boy. Power isn't meant to build walls around yourself. It's meant to protect the ones at your side."
For a moment, I almost told him the truth—about the system, about knowing the future, about how my power was anything but natural. But the words never left my lips. Instead, I nodded. "I understand."
He smiled knowingly, as if he saw more than he let on.
That night, back in my villa, I stared at my endless inventory. Rows upon rows of potions, enchanted armor, netherite blades, Elytra wings, even modern rifles glistening under enchanted lighting.
And among them, tucked neatly at the edge of the screen, sat a single music disc.Not Lullaby. Something else. Something my system had generated without me asking. Its description read:
[Cursed Melody: Silence]Effect: Nullifies all sound-based magic within range.
My breath caught.
It was as if the system itself was adapting to the timeline—anticipating what was to come.
"Eisenwald," I whispered into the silence.
Because whether Fairy Tail was ready or not, the storm was coming. And when it did, I'd make sure the cursed song of death would never play.