Fairy Tail's Anti-magic Mage

May 21, 2104.

It was a cold silent night. The moon, the only entity in the dark sky, shone brightly at the dense forest.

Amongst the bushes was rustling, followed by hasty footsteps. Several silhouettes walked in the dark. Even with just a little moonlight, their appearances remained undistinguished. As they moved stealthily through the woods, they stopped.

Standing on a grassy area, exposed to the moon, their forms became clear. There were seven men, armed with guns. They all wore green helmets and gauntlets, and black vests with pockets filled of bullets and grenades.

Among them, Jack Miller looked at the horizon with sharp stern eyes, observing. His focus landed on something smaller from his view. Taking out a pair of binoculars, he adjusted the lens and zoomed in.

"Alright team, our target is just up ahead," he said, after discerning the shape of the said target, and put his binoculars into his bag.

He turned to his surbodinates behind him, adding, "and remember, no casualties. We need this man alive."

Loading their rifles, they resumed their initiative as they ran in a stealthy silence. With their distance from their target decreasing, they saw a wooden hut up ahead.

As they went closer, he heard audible sounds. They seemed to sound like giggles, but there was another voice behind all the laughter which contained a happy tone.

This made Jack furrow his brows.

According to the task given by the military, they were supposed to capture Aarabisk Bukhari, one of the ISIS leaders who tried to bomb New York last month. General Warren have repeated to them more than ten times, ordering them to not issue a kill attempt on the man and take him back to HQ for interrogation.

This ISIS leader, in which everyone greatly confirmed, took refuge in an American hut in the woods of California after a failed attempt in bombing New York and was now laughing and flirting merrily with a woman?

If this was during his prime, Jack would have second thoughts about intruding into someone's privacy. But this was different.

He was already 29 years old, and has a fair share of experiences of being scammed and tricked by stingy merchants and sly terrorists. He also became an official US war veteran just recently, and this responsibility weighing on his shoulders was enough to motivate him.

The USA is his homeland. As a civilian and soldier of this land, he serves not only the president but the country as well. That was what he was told during his younger years in military training as a recruit.

And now, look where he has gotten himself to, pursuing the ISIS leader who is the key to end this war. Just imagining the merits he would receive and his reputation reaching into bigger heights, he couldn't help but feel excited.

But it also gave him determination. He calmed down his aching heart and proceeded, knowing that he shouldn't stand idle and daydream during such an important mission.

There were things that he wanted to go back to after this, but hasting their current progress would come a heavy price. For now, all he had to do was to do things slowly-- and not mess up this opportunity.

Making a silent hand motion to his squadron, two of his subordinates nodded and snuck silently to the right which was the back of the house.

He nudged his head to the rest of the team and they moved for the front door. The journey there was pretty much long and more difficult than he expected. It would have been easy if it weren't for the opened windows, and there were no curtains currently blocking the view of the outdoors.

*Crunch*

One of his surbodinates stepped on a branch, making a crunchy sound. He and the rest froze in their spots, their faces paled.

He could hear a woman's voice coming from the hut.

"What is it, honey~?"

His face turned even more white when he recognized her tone. It sounded like she was in a delusion, and more close to ecstasy as if she was influenced under some kind of pleasure.

He heard another voice. It sounded hoarse and deep, unlike the seducing tone from the woman.

"Nothing."

That voice was no doubt their target, Bukhari.

The next thing he knew, he heard loud panting and heavy moans. He grimaced; his eyes widened when he heard a new sound. It sounded like a cracking whip.

"Beg, you American slut! Beg!"

*Crack whip*

"Oh I beg you! Please give me more! Give me more of--"

He looked back to his surbodinates, finally noticing their expressions. Just beneath their brows were eyes filled with disgust and hatred.

As for himself, he too showed rage unlike anyone has ever seen before. Except for his squad.

Ever since the start of the third Cold War, no country has thrived fairly as they once were ten years ago. Yes, the war lasted for a decade! It was nothing like the four year civil war. These ten years led to populations decreasing rapidly, and the death rates have passed the average percentage. Even poverty began to increase as well, and without the conscience of the government, they were too late to protect their respective citizens. The ISIS terrorists beat black and blue on reasonable men, raping innocent women and killed younger children. They even forced several toddlers, who they thought has potential, to become terrorists.

Just when he thought about children, he remembered his wife Jenny.

He made a silent prayer. He prayed to God that he will end this madness. He prayed that he will come back alive no matter what, just to see his wife still breathing with air.

He prayed for guidance and safety.

"Wait for me, Jenny. I'll be home soon," he whispered.

He didn't know when or how long he was standing there, while facing the front door.

But it didn't matter to him anymore. He was already there.

A silent buzz sounded from his comm.

*"We're in position, Commander."*

After three seconds of silence, he spoke.

"Good."

Reloading his rifle, he pointed the tip towards the doorknob and pressed the trigger.

-------------

*Bang!*

The gunshot brought the naked man and woman back to reality.

*Wham!*

When the man saw the door being knocked down by a man in military uniform, he instantly knew that he was screwed.

"US Military!" Jack shouted, aiming his rifle on to the naked man.

"I didn't mean to do this!"

The man quickly pushed the lady off of him, not caring how his heart ached for more pleasure. What he only cared right now was himself!

"Say that to the court."

Jack eyed on the woman who laid on the floor naked. She struggled to lift herself up and looked at him.

"You came... You really came..."

He felt pain in his heart when he saw tears coming out of her eyes. He couldn't imagine how long she was tormented while waiting for help.

He motioned one of his surbodinates to assist her, and told the rest to cuff the terrorist.

But the man tried to resist, "I swear! I didn't mean to do this!"

He gave a quick glare at him, allowing his killing intent to be exposed to the vulnerable man who shivered in fear.

"Aarabisk Bukhari, you are under arrest for killing innocent people and bombing--"

"I am not Aarabisk Bukhari! My name is Dally Bill!"

Jack was taken aback by the man's outburst, and out of his expectations, he sounded like he was pleading to him.

Aarabisk Bukhari was known to have a will of iron. According to a report which was based on his personality, he was a very stubborn man and never pleads for mercy.

Could this man be acting? If he really was, Jack would have given him an award for best actor for being realistic.

But when he looked closely at the man, he noticed his facial appearance appeared chubby. Not to mention his body, it looked like they weigh the same pounds of a baby elephant. He was very fat!

From our intel, Bukhari have an athletic body and deep toned muscles, he thought. Jack remembered seeing a picture of him as well, and he wasn't this fat!

"Who gave you the right to say anything bastard!" One of his surbodinates smack the fat man on the head, causing the latter to land face splat on the floor unconscious.

"So this is Aarabisk Bukhari? He was supposed to be fierce and bolder like what everyone told us."

"Because this is not Bukhari," Jack said his thoughts out loud.

His surbodinates turned their attention to him in shock. They were about to ask him, until they notice slight movement behind their commander.

Jack could also tell as well, when he felt his hairs on his neck raised in alarm. In less than two seconds, he turned and grabbed what seemed to be a gun as the attacker pulled the trigger.

*Bang!*

Jack suddenly felt the gun becoming heavier, and later realized that Bukhari let go of the gun. He then experienced a stinging pain in his left tigh.

"Ah!"

Gasping, he fell to his knees. He touched his left leg until he saw a knife sticking into it with blood smearing on his pants.

He made eye contact with the offender, and saw a hard face of an Islamic man with eyes full of killing intent.

It was Aarabisk Bukhari.

"Commander!"

Before they could do anything, Bukhari made a sprint towards the kitchen.

"John!" Jack called.

*Wham!*

They heard the backdoor being knocked down, along with clatters of several utensils and broken glasswares.

"We got him, Commander!"

Walking out if the kitchen was Bukhari's figure backing away, followed by two surbodinates. One of them, whose name is John, have his gun pointed at Bukhari's chest.

"Raise your hands and remain silent!" John ordered.

Bukhari chuckled lowly, and out of everyone's expectations, he began to laugh so loud as if he have gone crazy.

Everyone only looked confused and annoyed at the man, except Jack.

For some reason, hearing that laugh just made him feel... threatened.

That was when he saw Bukhari raised his right hand, holding something. Next, his other hand took off half of his black jacket.

Fear struck in his eyes when he spotted a round black object on the man's upper left shoulder. There were several others on his body as well, and all of them have blinking red digits.

When Bukhari finally spoke, Jack snapped back to reality.

"If you want me alive, you can all see me in hell."

Jack abruptly stood up and made an ear-piercing scream.

"NOOO!!!"

Bukhari pressed the button.

*BOOM!*

------------------

Pain. That was all what Jack felt at this very mmoment. He could feel it vibrating throughout his entire body; mostly somewhere in his bottom part.

He also saw nothing but darkness. This pure void was not like the dark sky with the bright moon he saw during his mission.

Wait...

Mission...?

"..."

"..."

He finally remembered something. The explosion...

The house on fire...

Dead bodies everywhere...

"..."

"..."

Bukhari pressed the button.

*Beep*

"NNOOOO!!!"

With a jolt, he sat straight up. The pain in which have been influencing his mind, suddenly spiked a deep strain on his whole body.

"Agh!" Jack screamed in agony.

He felt like his sides were stung by a swarm of fire ants.

His eyes became open, and they started to garner tears around his eye sockets.

It hurts so much...

"Quick! Inject the tranquilizer on him!".

A voice rang in his head. He couldn't guess who it was because he did not recognize the stranger.

Then something, or someone touched him physically.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!!"

By wild instinct, he flailed his arms and punched something. But he couldn't see what exactly. He still haven't adjusted his eyes to the light at all. Everything looked hazy.

"Hold him down!"

As if his words seemed to fall deaf, he felt several hands grabbing on his arms and shoulders. Jack tried to struggle but the more he did so, the more painful he felt in every part of his body.

He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle this pain. He needs someone to get rid of it. Anyone, please.

That was when an image of a woman with dark brown hair came to his mind. Her vibrant emerald eyes gazed at him.

"Jenny!" He cried out in pain once more.

Finally, he felt a needle pierced his skin.

After a minute of wailing in pain, he arms fell weak. His brain felt somber as if he was entering into a deep sleep.

Before his eyes closed themselves, he whispered in a pleading tone.

"Jenny, I need you..."

-----------

February 14, 2119.

Jack sat on the bed, staring at three envelopes which he held in his hands. Hearing a slight cough, he quickly glance to Dr. Stickler, who was holding a med board.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" He said, expressing an apologetic look.

Dr. Strictler couldn't help but sigh helplessly, and asked.

"Do you want to take a rehabilitation, Mr. Miller?"

Jack paused at the question, looking at him in confusion.

Seeing this, Dr. Strictler tried to explain, "Both of your legs are severely damaged, and we couldn't risk you getting infected. So we had no choice but to cut them off."

Jack nodded, understanding what he was implying. Speaking of his legs, he couldn't help but look down and winced slightly.

What was left of his legs were his tighs. Both of his knees were heavily wrapped in bandages, and Jack took note of the big brown stains. Dr. Stricler have explained that the explosion severely damaged his blood veins, and as a result, becoming a "messy" state even anyone would puke at first sight. They have to change his bandages twice a day while he was in a coma. Two sprained legs would have been better, Jack thought.

"So, what does this have to do with me going to rehabilitation?" He asked, turning back to the doctor.

"Bionic legs."

Jack raised a brow at his response.

Dr. Stricler explained further, "You want to walk right? All you need is a new pair of legs. I'm sure you have heard of the Helping Arm, right?"

Jack nodded.

Helping Arm was a tech company capable of replacing fractured human parts. They started the company with a small program which was around fifty years ago and due to their full assistance, many disabled people today became free from worries and retired soldiers who lost limbs and arms often get the full order they wanted. The only downside here was the costs of bionic parts which were considered pricey.

"With your status, I'm sure you can afford the legs without any problems. But since you are going to use those legs, you need to learn how to walk."

"However, whether you want the rehabilitation or not, it is all up to you."

Dr. Stricler glanced at the clock, and turned back to Jack who seemed to be in deep thought.

"I'll be going now. I have a meeting today and it'll take longer than usual. Just use the bell in case you need anything and Nurse Angela will assist your needs."

When he was about to leave, Jack suddenly asked, "Did any of my relatives visit while I was comatosed?"

The doctor stopped in his tracks. He didn't look back when he repeated his question, "Relatives?"

"Like my father and mother. Oh, and my wife too. Did she come to see me before?"

After Jack finished his question, he only received silence. The doctor hasn't spoken a word yet, making Jack feel nervous and anxiety eating at his poor heart.

"..Did something happened to them?" Don't tell me they were--!

Before he could jump to conclusions, Dr. Stricler finally responded.

"Just read those letters."

Without saying any further, he closed the door behind him leaving a confused Jack alone in his room.

He repeated his words over and over again.

"Letters? Did he mean these?"

He looked over the envelopes, and noticed their dates. These were dated thirty years ago, he narrowed his brows in thought.

As he deeply gazed at them, he couldn't help but feel hesitant. Should I read them? Of course I should! They could contain the answers I'm looking for!

He didn't have to worry about his parents though. As their son, he have grown accustomed to their long absences and always knew that they prioritized business first before any trivial matters.

He have been in a comma for fifteen years since his "incident." There must be something that his parents wanted to tell him but didn't want it to be personal. Especially his wife. He felt clueless to why she hasn't visited him yet even after he was already awake for full two weeks.

Putting that aside, he picked an envelope which was addressed from General Warren.

"He never send letters to anyone," he muttered. He never send one to an injured soldier, unless it is about rewards or--"

He paused.

Or--

Could it be...

He ripped the envelope apart, not caring if he made a mess and took out the paper with trembling hands. It was his personal profile. He skimmed through the texts until he spotted a few words printed in red.

"As a result of failing to acquire the mission's target and the deaths of six best candidates, you are now identified as an ex veteran and will no longer serve the military."

He stared in shock. I'm banned from my service?!