Fairy Tail:Celestial Tempest

The silence of the void was, if possible, even louder than usual.

"A million years... seriously?" Rimuru Tempest, the entity who had long ago surpassed the concept of 'strongest,' groaned, his form sprawled languidly across a nebula that shimmered like a forgotten dream. He wasn't actually on a cloud; it was more like a solidified sigh of cosmic dust, but the effect was the same. Utter, soul-crushing boredom. "I swear, if I have to witness one more supernova just to feel a flicker of something, I'll permanently transfigure myself into a slime-shaped couch cushion for the next eon."

With a flick of his wrist, dimensions rippled around him like water, images of countless worlds flashing before his disinterested eyes. "Anything...?" His voice was a whisper that echoed across galaxies. "Just… ANYTHING interesting?"

Then, one image snagged his attention, pulling taut like an invisible thread. His eyes, usually alight with a playful curiosity that had dimmed over millennia, widened. "Earthland?!" A jolt, sharp and unexpected, shot through him. "Hold on… Fairy Tail?!" The name resonated, a forgotten echo from a life lived an eternity ago, a life as Mikami Satoru, an ordinary human with an extraordinary love for manga and anime. "Wait just a darn minute… Lucy Heartfilia? But… that's not how it's supposed to happen! What in the seven hells is going on?!"

The scene sharpened, pulling him closer.

The Heartfilia mansion, a grand edifice of stone and sprawling gardens, stood bathed in the warm afternoon sun. It was a symbol of immense wealth, yet today, its grandeur seemed to mock the vibrant joy contained within its grounds. Laughter, bright and pure as a bell, danced on the breeze. Little Lucy, all of five years old, her sunshine-yellow dress a blur, chased a butterfly with wings like stained glass, her small hands outstretched.

"Mama! Papa! Look!" she cried, her voice bubbling with delight, her eyes sparkling with a brilliance that outshone any gem.

From the shade of a rose-laden trellis, Layla and Jude Heartfilia watched their daughter, their faces alight with a warmth that mirrored the sun. Layla's gentle hand rested on Jude's arm, a silent testament to their shared happiness. "She's so utterly precious, Jude," she whispered, her voice soft as a summer breeze, brimming with a mother's boundless love.

Jude's gaze, fixed on his energetic daughter, softened with an almost painful adoration. He covered Layla's hand with his own. "Just like her mother," he replied, his voice thick with affection.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy, a chilling stillness descending upon the idyllic garden. The joyous melody of Lucy's laughter faltered, then died, replaced by an unnerving, fearful silence. The butterfly, sensing the shift, fluttered away into the now-ominous sky.

"Layla..." Jude's voice was a low growl, his smile vanishing, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the ornate sword he always wore, a relic more for show than use in these peaceful times.

Layla's eyes, moments ago sparkling with joy, were now wide with a dawning terror. "Something's… terribly wrong," she whispered, her breath catching. With trembling fingers, she unclasped a golden locket from around her neck – a heart-shaped treasure – and pressed it firmly into Lucy's small, suddenly clammy hands. "Lucy, darling, listen to me very carefully." Her voice was strained, urgent. "Stay here. Hide in the rose bushes. And no matter what you hear, no matter what happens, don't make a sound. Do you understand?"

"Mama? What's going on?" Lucy asked, her lower lip trembling, big blue eyes welling with confused tears. The sudden shift in her parents' demeanor terrified her more than any childhood monster.

"Just... hide, sweetheart," Layla urged, her voice cracking as she gave Lucy a desperate, fleeting hug. "We'll be right back. I promise."

They turned and rushed towards the looming entrance of the mansion, their silhouettes stark against the bright doorway before disappearing inside. Lucy, left alone, her small body shaking like a leaf in a storm, clutched the locket tightly. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of fear. Hesitantly, she crept towards the large bay window of the drawing-room, peering through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains.

"How dare you trespass in the Heartfilia home?!" Jude's voice, usually calm and measured, roared from within, filled with a righteous fury she'd never heard before. It was followed by the sharp, ringing sound of steel being drawn.

A cruel, grating voice sneered in response, "Your pathetic wealth is meaningless, fool! You'll pay for your arrogance, and for what she did!" The words were followed by a chilling, inhuman laugh that made Lucy's blood run cold.

"Papa!" Lucy choked out, her tiny fists pounding silently against the thick, unyielding glass. "No!"

The sounds that followed were a terrifying blur – the clash of steel, grunts of exertion, the crash of breaking furniture, and dark, guttural incantations. Jude, for all his determination, was a businessman, not a seasoned warrior. He fought with the desperation of a father protecting his family, but he was outnumbered, outmatched by shadowed figures wielding dark, sinister magic. Lucy saw a flash of her father, his face contorted in pain, as he was thrown across the room, landing heavily. He tried to rise, but a figure loomed over him.

"JUDE!" Layla's scream tore through the air, a sound of pure, unadulterated anguish. Lucy saw her mother rush towards her fallen husband, a desperate, protective instinct driving her forward.

"Too late, little sorceress," the scarred leader of the intruders sneered, his face a mask of cruelty. He raised a hand, dark, swirling energy coalescing around his palm. It shot forth, engulfing Layla. Her eyes, wide with horror, slowly dimmed, her body collapsing bonelessly to the polished floor beside Jude.

Lucy's breath hitched, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Her small hands flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to erupt. "Mama... Papa..." Tears streamed down her face, hot and fast, blurring her vision of the nightmare unfolding within.

The intruders, their vile task seemingly complete, began to ransack the house, their greedy voices echoing through the grand halls. "Find everything! Every jewel, every piece of gold! Leave nothing!"

They missed her. In their avarice and haste, they overlooked the small, trembling child hidden by the roses in the garden, a silent, traumatized witness to their brutality.

An eternity later, when the monstrous sounds had faded and a deathly quiet had settled over the estate, Lucy finally stumbled out of her hiding place. Her legs felt like lead, her heart a shattered ruin in her chest. She pushed open the heavy front door, the scent of blood and dark magic assaulting her senses.

"Mama...? Papa...?" she whispered, her voice broken, raw, almost unrecognizable. She found them in the drawing-room, amidst the wreckage. She knelt beside her mother's still form, her small, trembling hand reaching out to touch Layla's cold, pale cheek. The locket, still clutched in her other hand, felt heavy, a painful reminder. "I… I won't forget," she choked out, the words a ragged vow. "I'll find them. The ones who did this… I'll make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for what they did to you!" Her tiny fists clenched, her eyes, once so bright with joy, now burned with a grief so profound it was terrifying, and a nascent, chilling flicker of vengeance.

Rimuru, watching this unfold from his vantage point beyond dimensions, felt a wave of raw, unfiltered pain wash over him – not just observation, but a deep, empathetic agony. "No… No way," he muttered, his voice laced with a disbelief that mirrored Lucy's own shock. "This isn't how it's supposed to go! This can't be! Lucy… her parents… Layla… Jude… dead?"

Memories, sharp and vivid, from his life as Mikami Satoru flooded his consciousness. Fairy Tail. The vibrant guild, the Nakama, the epic battles. "Lucy was always my favorite character…" he breathed, a surge of unexpected, fierce anger bubbling up within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in millennia kicking in with the force of a collapsing star. "All that potential, her journey… and this?! This grotesque, horrifying deviation from the original storyline! It's… it's just WRONG!"

He couldn't just watch. Not this time. The boredom that had plagued him for ages evaporated, replaced by a burning sense of purpose. "I can't let this happen. I won't."

In an instant, he was there. Not as a cosmic entity, but in his familiar human form, materializing silently in the ravaged garden, the scent of rain starting to mingle with the lingering metallic tang of blood. His eyes, now filled with a compassionate sorrow, landed on Lucy's small, tear-streaked face, her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs as she knelt by the window, having just made her vow. The rain began to fall, as if the heavens themselves were weeping.

He took a gentle step forward, his voice soft, trying not to startle her further. "You seem… terribly troubled, young one."

Lucy flinched, whirling around, her eyes red-rimmed, swollen, and filled with a wild, hunted look. Seeing a stranger, her immediate instinct was fear. "Who… who are you?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, clutching the locket tighter, ready to bolt.

Rimuru knelt, bringing himself to her eye level, offering a kind, disarming smile despite the grim circumstances. "My name is Rimuru Tempest," he replied, his voice carrying a strange, soothing resonance. "I… I know what happened. I saw it."

Her face crumpled further, fresh tears spilling. "They… they killed them," she sobbed, the words tearing from her small chest. "My Mama… my Papa… They hurt them! I… I'll make them pay! I have to!"

Rimuru's smile softened into an expression of deep empathy. "Revenge…" he sighed, the word heavy on his tongue. "It's a heavy burden, Lucy. A path paved with more pain." He paused, his gaze intense yet gentle. "But… what if I could help you? Not just with revenge, but with something more? What if I could give you the power to protect yourself, to ensure something like this never, ever happens to anyone you care about again?"

Lucy's tear-filled eyes widened, a tiny, almost imperceptible flicker of something other than despair – hope, perhaps? – igniting within their depths. "Help… me? How?"

"I'll train you," Rimuru said, his voice firm, yet kind. "I'll teach you. I'll give you the strength to face anything this world, or any other, can throw at you. And maybe," he offered a small, genuine smile, "just maybe, along that path, you'll find something beyond just vengeance." He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling faintly. "Because you've got guts, kid. I can see it. And"… (well, because seeing this happen, as a long-time Fairy Tail fan, is just plain wrong! You deserve a much, much better story than this, Lucy Heartfilia).

Lucy stared at him, this strange, kind man who had appeared out of nowhere, offering an unbelievable lifeline. Her grief was a raw, gaping wound, but within it, the seed of her earlier vow for retribution pulsed strongly. His words, his offer of strength… it resonated with that burning need. She looked from his outstretched hand to the ruined mansion, then back to his compassionate eyes. Her small chin firmed.

"Yes," she said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tears still tracing paths down her cheeks. "I'll do it. Train me."