The young dragon slayer was brilliant.

He was donned in flames hotter than the sun and wrapped in seven dragons' souls, shining like a falling star, piercing the darkness and dim. The hopes and powers of those who entrusted too young a man to a formidable task were his armor, their fury his bite. Magic crackled in the air around him, spewing from his lungs and roaring like the dragon slayers who lay discarded, and the dragons that had been felled long ago. The last of the dragon slayers were in sorry states, holding their wounds, drained of energy and magic - magic they had lent to their last hope and their savior who stood despite it all.

Natsu Dragneel, donned with the full power of the last dragons Acnologia had to slay, hurled his fist at the Dragon King. He came quickly, fiercely, with all the power righteous vengeance afforded him. And Acnologia smiled. The great Dragon King was weak, in the end: unable to stop it. Unable to move, save himself, or defend the crown he'd owned for eons.

He was too slow. Too shocked. Too... mystified. 

The approaching slayer's soul screamed for his destruction, and the magic of the seven slayers' ensured it, and yet... and yet, he felt strangely wonderful.

The fist connected like a meteor, the magic culminating in a shock wave that shattered every bone in the king's body. It ripped through his core, shaking in his blood as the beasts he'd spent his existence exterminating screamed from his soul. Millions of deaths echoed out from his presence, rumbling through his core as his mind began to shatter.

It was a release as millions of souls fled to a void of rest. A final shockwave Acnologia could impart on the world. And then he fell. His very essence began to crumble, years of longevity and the strangeness of the Space Between Time taking away any chance he had to rest as a bloody corpse - he had no right to die as humans did. He'd fade into nothingness; disintegrate until there was no evidence of his life or death. He'd vanish, as monsters do.

Weak and helpless and inhuman, he collapsed. Fragmenting into memory, all he could do was pass along the mantle he'd rightfully lost... just as it had been passed to him. There was only one fate for the Dragon King - one of death and gore and loss. He had finally met that end.

He had raged against draconic kind for so long, and yet not enough. He had not done it. He had not fulfilled his mission. He'd lost, and so dragon kind would live on. Their teachings included. He fell, and so the title of King was to be passed to the victor...

"King? Thanks, but no thanks."

Those were the last words he heard, muttered by Igneel's son. The boy who'd killed the Black Dragon. Who'd now avenged his fiery father, bested the dragon king, and was now denying the right of the mantle. Even near-death Acnologia felt something in him break at the thought.

To denounce the status of Dragon King. To disregard it? In all his hate for dragon kind... that had never been a thought he'd dared to grace.

It was a strange notion, but he didn't have a lot of time to consider it beyond forced acceptance. He had no power anymore, no sway in life or history. There would be no Dragon King after him if Igneel's son kept his word. If that was what the next generation had demanded, that was what it would have to be. No more Kings. 

He let out his final breath, a small wisp of relief that escaped his lips and freed his lungs. Free... he was free...

Death was no stranger. He knew it well, dealt with it, summoned it, bathed in it. He'd never experienced it. He fell into nothingness; void of sensations or presence. He had no form, no thought, no recollection. But he knew something... 

He wasn't dead. Not yet...

"Aconologia."

It was a startling presence that broke through his vacuum of space. The king's eyes flew open and he found himself taking human form, surrounded by the mists of the Space Between Time. The stone was cold beneath him and the air was deathly still. There was no sign of the battle he'd waged against the slayers: The crystal pillars stood tall without fracture. The ground was smooth to the touch, devoid of craters, cracks, or impacts. Even the sky seemed content in its rest.

He lay on the ground, gazing up at the starless expanse as mist mulled mindlessly around him. For a moment, he just lay there, relishing the silence... the peace. Nothing hurt. Nothing ached. Nothing screamed. 

He reached to run a hand down his face before jolting into a sitting position as two limbs obeyed.

He had two hands.

Two. Hands.

He stared amazed, albeit dumbly, admiring his returned arm. He remembered losing it to Igneel's jaws, the teeth of the mighty fire dragon digging in while the last of the Fire King's strength tore it free. He remembered that very clearly - it had hurt. The fiery pain that had hissed through his form, dulled in the moment by adrenaline and the foggy mind state that had become his normal state, but the memory of it lingered.

And yet, his arm was back, attached to him. He could move his fingers, flex his wrist, bend his elbow, and touch his shoulder. There was no scar nor sign it had ever been anywhere but his side.

He chuckled a bit to himself as he admired it. He'd missed the limb more than he had realized. More to it than a simple regrown limb, though. His body was younger, distinctly so. The older aches and pains he'd grown used to were gone and scars he'd come to know well had strangely vanished.

Despite the circumstances, he found himself... relaxed? The familiar rage churning under his ribs was dead - just as he was supposed to be. It was also so... so quiet. His mind was silent, echoing in this expanse of nothingness. No voices screamed from his head; long-dead dragons roaring for their vengeance or violence. He held it all still for a moment, so utterly transfixed with the peace. It was quiet...

Was it supposed to be this quiet?

"Acnologia." From behind him.

Someone was behind him. A fool? Or a pest? He looked over his shoulder, not too quickly, but still tensing at the closeness of the stranger. There was no stranger. 

There was Anna Heartfilia.

Acnologia was on his feet in a moment, whirling to face her as his breath caught in his throat. She still stood tall, as she always had, her chin held high and her shoulders square even before she had to look up at him. Her smile was bright... smug almost. There was a sternness to her face - an anger or perhaps a rage.

It had been a long time since he had tried to decipher her expression.

"Anna." It was a breath and a curse. A question and yet always an answer.

Her smile didn't widen, but he couldn't expect it to. He felt that rageful tide begin to froth again within his chest. His blood quivered and her eyes steeled, as if she sensed it.

"It's been a long time," she supposed, looking out to the Space Between Time. The casual tone fed his growing reminders, every heartbeat bringing with it that constant pumping of hate, pain, power, and violence - the four pinnacles of his life.

He bared his teeth: "Why am I not dead?"

It had to have something to do with her. It always did.

If she was fazed, Anna did not show it. In fact, she seemed incredibly uninterested in anything he had to say. She found something on the horizon that made her blink before looking back at him with a narrowed gaze.

"I am... sorry, Acnologia," she managed finally. Though there was no regret in her tone, there was something guarded, firm.

Regardless, Acnologia scoffed; there was no other sound to convey the hate he had for those words. Those pointless, pointless words.

"For what?" he demanded in a low tone. "Which part?"

Anna's brow didn't falter, her lips didn't quiver. She stared him down incredibly coldly for someone offering remorseful words.

"For many things. And yet, for only a few. Mostly, for how it all turned out. This isn't the ending either of us wanted."

"It ended as it always would," Acnologia muttered, pulling his cape around his shoulders and looking around with an innate desire to leave. To escape. To abandon. This was a waste - a pointless waste.

"...I know I hurt you," Anna's voice faltered for a moment and Acnologia refused to look at her. His teeth grated against each other as he set his jaw.

"I am Acnologia, King of the Dragons. No human could hurt me."

"A human boy just killed you." That was a jab.

"A dragon killed me," Aconologia snarled. "If I am even dead."

"Sonya hurt you." And that was disgustingly personal.

Rage flared in Aconologia's soul as his head snapped back to stare her down. She did not flinch as all usually did under such a murderous gaze.

"You dare?"  Of all the people to use Sonya against him -

"Of course I dare," Anna answered viscerally, raising her brow. "I lost her too. And I've seen you cry and scream and hate and kill - Acnologia, I of all people know that you can hurt."

"You dare." He took a step closer, towering over her. But, she had never stayed in his shadow, and so she did not falter. She was starlight - built to thrive in the darkest of settings, and so, standing before his intimidation, she only seemed more blinding.

Anna stepped closer, meeting his gaze, jabbing a finger in his chest: "Yes, I dare. You can't do anything anymore Dragon King. You've lost."

And that was... true. He stood there and found an incredible wealth of apathy towards that fact. He was dead-ish. Dead-ish. A dragon slayer had killed him. It was over.

The thought of his end, however, wasn't terrible. Perhaps Anna saw such thoughts in his gaze. She took a step back, closing her eyes and taking a breath to collect herself. When their gazes met again it was not as cold as before, but it wasn't forgiving. They were inches away from each other, listening to each other's breaths and watching the smallest of movements in the other's expressions. There was a language to be found there, one they'd both been fluent in... long ago...

"That being said," Anna continued carefully: "I believe we both hold some regrets - I did what I had to do. That hurt what part of you I still care for."

"Yes, I am certain it pained you to leave me," Acnologia growled, his disgust poorly hidden in his whisper.

"It did. And if you question that, then it only proves that I made the right choice. I'd do it again."

His hate erupted in a snarl as he ripped away from their closeness and paced angrily in the dirt, circling and staring her down like a caged beast.

"What do you want? Why are you here!? To torment me? Make me pay for my sins!?"

"I'm trying to talk to you," Anna answered, anger tinting her voice as she watched him cautiously. "I came to try to amend -"

"What is there to amend?" Acnologia snarled. "I lived my life - I did what I wanted; I lived how I wanted!"

At his words, the mist began to shift. He walked back and forth in a semi-circle around the celestial mage, the mist dancing in his wake. Images danced around the duo like shadows in their periphery. Dragons screamed and roared, clashing with a familiar silhouette of a black-scaled beast. An island fell to his mighty roar. A red dragon's ribs were torn from his chest. Wizards and kingdoms and beasts fell to his claws and each dragon corpse offered blood to bathe in.

The great black dragon always vanished in Acnologia's shadow. Rightfully. Pridefully. Righteously!

"How you wanted?" Anna challenged coldly, her eyes following him with an ice-cold gaze.

"Of course," Acnologia raised his chin and found a grin curling on his face as something twisted and warmed in his chest. "I slayed every dragon I came across - up until the very end. I exterminated that wretched species, I was the strongest beast to walk this earth and will be until the end of time."

"You're starting to sound like someone else we knew," Anna scorned.

"Zeref never reached the level he sought. His pathetic search for self-destruction was feeble and pointless -"

"I wasn't talking about Zeref." She crossed her arms and scowled.

The old dragon slayer stopped dead. His throat dried at the implications and his being trembled as cold shock and warm anger warred within him.

"I am nothing like -"

"You are him. Or at least the very weapon he tried to form you into. His pride is your own: you are the epitome of your Master."

"I am Acnologia!" He roared. "King of the Dragons! The Dragon of the Apocalypse!  Slayer of the Dragon King! The Dragon's Bane! I have slaughtered the kingdom he so desperately defended and massacred what was left of his species. There are no dragons left to mourn him because I killed them all -"

"Yes, how noble," Anna supposed. "Baseless genocide."

"Baseless!?" Aconologia seethed against her cold tone - the condemnation. He was a sinner, he'd never deny that. But after everything: "Have you forgotten what they did - what we watched them do!"

"Do you forget why I had to go to Zeref?" she questioned coldly, brushing his words away. "Listen to yourself and ask why I had to find a way to stop you."

"Had to!?" he hissed. "Or wanted to."

She blazed with a familiar temper: "What I wanted was impossible! It was a pipe dream for a lovesick girl! You may have changed but I did not! And I would not  - could not - stand by as some tragic memory in the wake of your sins!"

"You were why I did it!" 

"Do not try to pin this on me!" she scowled darkly, fury staining every word. "You did it for yourself."

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Their voices still strained in the air which had grown oh so still. Acnologia's chest felt terrible empty of hate and Anna's brow had begun to tremble.

"I watched you..." she admitted, rage and grief crashing in her voice. "I watched you slay... thousands. Indiscriminately. You bathed in their blood - mutilated the corpses you created. You weren't a man or a dragon - you were just a monster. We spent our lives protecting people from monsters."

"And Zeref was all too happy to help put me down," the slayed supposed. He tried to rekindle that anger - that hate. He'd spent eons cursing her name and roiling in malice, promising that if he ever miraculously saw her again, he'd kill her.

But now... he was so, so empty. Killing her didn't have any of the appeal it used to. It wouldn't satiate anything, if anything it would dig old claws into older wounds.

"He planned to send the dragon slayers to the future, give them a chance to grow in a time beyond your bloodshed, free from your ceaseless hunt. All he needed was a celestial wizard up for the task."

"I thought you died," Acnologia spat. "After I accepted your betrayal, I mourned your death!"

"If it's any consolation I will die, in a time far removed from us," she mused. "Displaced yet... fulfilled, I hope."

There was no relief to be found in the thought. Condemning herself to such a life, after everything she'd sacrificed... alone, in a time that was not hers...

"Oh, that's what brings you regret?" Anna scathed. "The thought of my peace!?"

"No." And that was true. He stared at her and finally, finally let himself take a long look. She was not all that different than he remembered. The bags under her eyes were familiar, and while he'd never seen that sneer of disgust aimed at him, he couldn't exactly blame her for it now.

"Then what's with the face?" she huffed.

It had always been difficult to admit defeat, but she'd made it easier... long ago. Perhaps she still did: "I... suppose you are not the only one with a few regrets."

She looked back at him, setting her jaw as she took in his visage. The mist twisted again: colorless figures dancing in their peripheral... this time made of softer, fonder memories.

Two teenagers were sitting under a tree, star gazing. Familiar silhouettes held hands, danced to silent music, laughed, kissed, and held each other.  Aconologia looked towards the closest figures he had, the two blue silhouettes running to each other from across a battlefield, slamming into each other with such power - but holding each other with surprising tenderness. An Acnologia long gone held Anna close and, maybe, for just a moment, he remembered that she'd laughed then, blood clinging to her hair and an eye near swollen shut... something about how terrible they both looked.

Anna stared at the images for a long moment, her jaw still set but her expression... heavy.

"When you stopped thinking of mercy - of life and its sanctity - I knew you couldn't be the man I loved, once," Anna murmured, and the figures faded away. "The moment you exterminated nests - little hatchlings - with no remorse, I knew...  I knew."

Acnologia met her gaze, frost in his blood. He had no anger left to fuel him, no souls left to scream at him. She had plenty.

"So you decided to kill the monster," he supposed.

"Yes."

"And this is to be my trial?" 

"There is nothing to condemn. You are not a monster anymore.".

"Of course I am," Acnologia smiled ruefully. "You cannot bathe in the blood of thousands of dragons and call yourself human."

"You lost your mind."

"I gained much more," Acnologia denied, but it was soft. "I did it - I won."

"You won nothing - you gained nothing," Anna stated, her voice cracking momentarily with icy fury. "You lost yourself. You know you did. Now? You're the man I remember - you can't deny it. Feel it, recognize it, remember it: this is who you were before it all."

"What does it matter!?" Acnologia felt himself seething, but not against her. Not against anything - perhaps against reality: against the hopelessness and emptiness that was slowly consuming his form.

Because his mind was empty. His chest was light. The hate and rage and violence and pain were fading alongside the tormenting racket that had been his existence. Whatever was left echoed ever so painfully.

He turned on his heel and began to stride. Where? He had no idea. He wanted to get away, to escape her voice and her gaze and the painful void that was starting to consume him. So many years of aimless hate and sick lust for brutality left his ribcage unbearably empty after death. Memories and clarity were curses to a mind long-plagued with dulled senses and millions of voices.

"It matters!" she was behind him, just a few steps, scolding him. "It matters because you mattered and I mattered and - and goddammit  Acnologia look at me!"

"It does not matter: I am dead. That was always going to be my violent fate; at least let me die in peace!"

"No! You don't get that right!"

She said it in that voice - that voice that meant she'd already done something. She'd already taken down a dragon, or set a trap, or gone off solo, or talked Zeref into a new plan, or - or something. He stopped and looked at her. She had her arms crossed and her deep eyes were stern again.

"What do you mean; no?" Acnologia asked knowingly.

"You asked if this is a trial!? It's not - your fate has already been decided. I'm not going to let you die in peace. It's the least you can do after the hell you've caused. You don't get to rest."

"Anna -"

"I had my own plan. I had my reasons for listening to Zeref."

"Which were?"

A familiar smile played on her lips. "Well, celestial mages are well equipped with different dimensions - we toy with the celestial realm our whole lives. Passing through the Space Between Times wasn't nearly as difficult for me as it was for the dragon slayers."

"So you... planned... to stay?" Suspicion was flowing thick in his tone.

"I learned." She answered simply. "As I always do. I learned how this dimension worked, what it did, its limits, and its purposes. I left a part of myself here after passing through the gate - that's how we can speak to each other."

"So this... this is just a sliver of you," Acnologia guessed.

"It's me," she answered softly. "Just the me that existed before I left this place. I don't know everything that happened afterward, but I knew that one day I'd find you here. I knew one day, we'd meet again. I ensured it."

"How?"

"Zeref's original plan for the gate was to go back in time and destroy himself. I figured eventually he'd try to go through with it, and you, ever the determined one, would stop him."

"That... isn't what happened."

"So you didn't devour the bonds of time?"

"I... well..."

She was far too proud of herself. He looked away with a huff near unbecoming - he was not that predictable.

"There you go then," Anna snickered - snickered! "Here you are anyway. Sounds like fate to me."

It shouldn't have been impactful - if anything it should've irked him, but at that moment something in Acnologia's chest hitched, forcing him to look away less he broke in a way he could not recover from.

"Why?" he managed. "What was the goal?"

Anna gestured to the Space between Time and let out a small breath. "The Space Between Time remembers everyone who passed through it. It keeps a sliver of them - but unlike those echos of minds, I am a conscious entity, as are you."

At her words the mist contorted and figures appeared to flank the celestial mage. Five small children were on her heels, holding hands with each other nervously. A young woman with a similar figure to Anna stared up at the sky, her hair done up in a bun and a long dress hanging around her ankles. Another blonde walked with a dark cloak wrapped around herself, a sorrowful presence hanging over her shoulders. A lone figure, missing an eye and part of his soul, strode heavily away as seven dragons followed him.

"They cannot act. They cannot change the path they walked," Anna continued softer as she watched them all turn and walk in the same direction. "Unlike them, I can use the Space between Time, manipulate its power, and utilize its strengths."

"Use?" Acnologia echoed.

She looked at him and a sly smile danced on her face. "I can make you do it again. Send you back."

The world may have well fallen out from under him.

"Send me back!?" he nearly choked on his cry. "What!? Anna - I am the bane of this world's existence - you have just finished condemning me for my sins! What do you mean; send me back!?"

"I mean, I can send you back to set this right. I can fix this - You can fix this."

"No!" He closed the distance between them, catching one of her hands in his as that nothingness in his chest began to tremble in a growl.

She looked startled but didn't pull away.

"Anna," he began slowly, forcing himself to breathe through the ringing in his ears. "You are right... you're right. I did lose myself and I am... I am me again..."

"I know."

"If you know, why would you send me back? Why... Anna please."

They looked at each other for a long while, Anna's crueler look melted into something softer... sadder.

"You can do better," she explained softly. "We can undo it all - fix it all."

"No..." Acnologia denied it blindly. "It is over. It is done. We can rest now... It can end."

"No. It's not."

"Send yourself back then - you fix it."

"I cannot, I do not have a physical form anymore -  Only a part of me stayed here. It must be you. You are the only one I can make it work for... unless someone else dies in this place."

"Please, Anna. It has been so long, and it can be over. I want it to be over -"

"And I don't. It's not over. I won't let it be."

"Why!?" he was desperate now.

"I will not let it end like this. I will not let you end like this; I will not let you give up that easily!" She was certain, holding his hands with hers as she leaned in closer, anger and grief crying out from her tone. Cold certainty too.

"I am alright with this," Acnologia assured. "I am alright - if this is how it ends if..." 

"I don't quite care if you're alright. You lost that right to a peaceful rest, Acnologia. This is about more than just you-"

"The dragons are dead, peace has been achieved, the title of Dragon King is no more - they have a happy ending. The world has peace..."

"But you do not," she answered in a broken rage. "And neither do I!"

It was instinctual at first. He leaned down to press their foreheads, pausing as he caught himself. They were not lovers. They were not even friends. What had once been only existed in the memories and the lingering instincts - in the compulsive movement of a man who had calmed her storms before. In the hitching breath of a mage who had forgotten how gentle he once was.

And yet she closed the distance, their crowns pressing together gently in a way neither had forgotten, but hadn't quite remembered to miss. They stood there for a while, aching in their matched breaths and heartbeat.

Rage melted into something... broken. Anna's whisper only confirmed that:

"The Acnologia this world knows is cruel and terrible. This world knows you as a monster. It will never know a dragon's song again. It will never speak of us with anything other than regret." She closed her eyes, but it could not hide the water resting on her lashes.

All those years later, all they had gone through, all that had torn them apart, and yet watching her cry carved up the stone between his lungs... 

"You can do so much good for the world, I know it," she told him. "You know it too."

"I do not want to..." he admitted firmly.

"Acno," she laughed with pain and spite. With all the hate he deserved and all the lingering warmth he didn't.

"I cannot go back," he pleaded. "I cannot. I cannot do it all again -"

"You can."

"I do not want to. Not again... to lose it all again. Lose you again."

"I'll be there..."

"But it will not be you... it will be you from before... it will not - she will not know -"

"Then tell her," Anna smiled. "Tell me. Do you know what I would've given to help shoulder your burdens back when I... loved? Instead of watching them destroy you. Don't you understand?"

He was crying, it was cold against his skin and it ached. It had been so long...

"I - I will bathe in blood again: I have to win the war - I will lose it all again. What makes you think I will change? That I can? That I want to? No matter what you change I will always be me -"

"You'll find a way," she assured him. "There has to be a way to gain the dragon's power without gaining their fractured souls." 

"Anna, I just want to rest..."

"No," she said, and this time there was remorse in her voice. "I can't let you do that..."

"Please." He clenched her hands, the beg catching in his throat. He was never supposed to plead again - never supposed to feel so weak. "I will not change... I will do it all again. It is who I am, it is what I am, and you cannot change that. It is what I was made for."

She squeezed his hand near vengeful: "I don't believe that."

"... How can't you?"

An aching silence rested between them both, one filled with similar memories. It strangled him.

"Then we'll meet here once more," Anna breathed softly through his empty threats. There were no more tears in her eyes, only a frozen determination he found he'd missed. "You lose yourself: I stop you, and I send you back. We'll try again. And again. And again. Forevermore until the end of time. That is your punishment. That is your fate."

The world began to tremble, Anna's presence glowing as stars peeked through the nothingness above them, glimmering with spiteful cheer. The crystals began to fracture as Anna's magic condensed on itself, growing denser with every moment.

"This space will collapse in a few moments," she explained gently. "You devoured this power. Without your life force, they'll fade, us with them. Their last breaths mark a new start - a true breath of life."

Acnologia watched as her hair began to sway with the sheer force of magic energy exuding from her form. He didn't dare step away.

"Let them collapse. Let it die. Let me die," he breathed in a prayer. 

She pulled away from his hands, shaking her head, a fire in her gaze.

"I cannot restart your life completely, I can only go back to a clear time in your mind, and from there, I'll leave you. From there, you must change the future..."

"No!" he pleaded.

"You can cause the most change, do the most good. If you are anything like the boy I met on the hill, you'll want to."

"Anna -"

"Remember the battles, remember Zeref; the colosseum, the village, and the gate."

"Please - please, just let me stay -"

"And remember, back then, I loved you," she vowed, her voice ringing with grief... and hate. "And that now, I do not."

The words broke him but he could not deny their truth. The pillars of crystal were crashing to the ground around them, the mist retreating to the furthest outskirts of the horizon.

"I do not deserve to be loved," he breathed. And then, weaker; "I loved you. I - I never deserved  to - you should not have -"

She silenced his stumbling with a cracking cruel laugh and a shake of her head.

"Good luck then," she chuckled wearily. "Foolish Dragon King."

He was ripped from her, darkness collapsing around them as Anna, ever the brilliant force in the universe, glowed like a nova, shooting into the sky and tearing a line into the collapsing dimension. Acnologia was shunted out of that tear, bursting into a tsunami of senses and life.

He gasped as he erupted to life.

The air was damp and cold - dark. He was in a cave. The air hummed with danger and his presence pulsed with magic energy much weaker than what he'd grown used to. Dripping water pierced his eardrums. The smell of mildew, stone, and stale air suffocated him. Four dragons paced before him, snarling at his presence that was still far beyond their own. They gave him a wide berth and he... he stared at the corpse-strewn a few feet away.

Sonya.

Oh... She'd... she'd sent him here. Was this the earliest, clearest memory of his life? This!?

"Die, BʟOᴏDᴛHɪEꜰ!" the first dragon hissed as it lunged.

Acnologia's mind snapped to the present as his body acted without his consent. This younger him glowed with exuberance and desire - a sheer instinctual want to fight and survive. Unwilling to resist it, he turned on his heel, his hands catching the jaws of the beast cleanly, hands nestled between the beast's fangs.

She'd sent him to Sonya's death. Why? What was he supposed to change!? Why this!? This younger body was aching with a grief he'd never forgotten.

His arms strained as the dragon tried to clamp down, Acnologia's nails digging into the exposed flesh of the beast's gums. Predictably, the dragon's throat began to glow with a lime-colored power that smelled of sulfur and Acnologia acted quickly. These dragons were always so easy to outthink: he inhaled, his lungs burning with power as he kept the dragon's jaw held firm. With a bellow he roared into the dragon, the beam of destructive magic tearing through flesh and bone, silencing the dragon's breath and leaving it a heap of flesh on the ground, a new hole in the back of its throat.

The blood began to pool around Acnologia's sandaled feet and he could hear the whispers - the voices that came with dragon's blood and power.

Ah... that would be it then. Avoid the blood. Noted.

Two other dragons lunged and they were dealt with in equal swiftness. He ripped the wing off one and blinded the other before slaying them. The fourth was well armored, but Acnologia's magic was a destructive force, even before he gained the ability to shift his skin to scales. His wing attacks tore through its crystals and scales regardless of armor.

The fight was easy. He still had his years of prowess; his capability. His magic was weaker - nothing compared to what he'd been, but he was still one of the strongest dragon slayers of his time. He almost always had been.

He stood amidst the corpses, looking over the carnage and feeling that familiar pull to the draconic blood.

He'd bathed here, in his past life. Tearing two of the corpses open to drown in their blood, absorbing their magic and potential in a vengeful retribution for the girl they'd murdered. 

Sonya...

He turned and saw her still lying there. Solemnly, he walked over to her, crouching at her side. She was as young as he remembered - the bright little girl who played in the field and waved goodbye when her mother called her home for dinner. Three years old? Five? Four? Two? He'd long forgotten ages - he'd never been good at them anyway.

She was not the first corpse he'd seen, even in his first life. She would not be the last - he knew it to be so. The pain was fading -  it all felt like a distant memory. There he was standing before the young girl he already lost centuries ago. It felt cheapened - disrespectful - but he couldn't muster any more grief... he'd already watched her die once...

She coughed and Acnologia froze.

She was... alive? Desperately he knelt at her side and listened. A heartbeat - breathing - so faint. Of course - his senses were weaker now than he was in the past. But she was alive! Had she lived in the past? Had he left her here before - still breathing - in pain as he'd indulged in his thirst for dragon blood? Had he been so blind!?

"Sonya?" he whispered as he tried to pick her up, something foreign in this old, forgotten body. No... this young, familiar form.

She wheezed out a breath as her young eyes opened, recognizing him, though distant and foggy with pain. A smile of relief took her and Acnologia felt his heart clench, not of his own volition. Her lungs were pierced by her many broken ribs, and her chest cavity half-collapsed. Her heart was pumping blood fruitlessly, most of it leaving her fragile form - he couldn't fix this.

Even if he could transform, he wouldn't get her to safety in time. Even if he was fast enough, picking her up would worsen the bone shrapnel in her lungs - it may even kill her faster. He couldn't treat her. He couldn't save her.

She would still die. 

"S' you," she whined. "Hurts..."

Acnologia knelt there for a moment, his mind tumbling over itself to try to rectify what would happen. Why would Anna send him here if he couldn't save her? Why would she make him relive this? What was he supposed to change!?

Surely she'd sent him here to change it. Had he already failed then?

Or was this the beginning of his righteous punishment? Anna couldn't be that cruel... or maybe she could. He'd made her suffer enough - maybe this was just... justice.

"M... ms s-scared..." she cried weakly, her voice catching in pain. Her small hand tried to reach out and he caught it. It was small, much smaller than his, covered in the youth's blood.

They'd toyed with her - like cats. They'd probably laughed as they chased her, scaring her from one claw to another like a little desperate mouse. At least until one slammed her into a wall just a little too hard. His chest clenched with renewed rage as he remembered just why he had exterminated their species. Monsters - they were monsters.

But he'd been too... A bigger, better, stronger monster.

His rage died with the memories. So clear - his mind was so clear without the dragon's blood scratching at him constantly. It almost killed him how clear it was - how lost he had been. 

Sonya's eyes filled with tears and Acnologia's hate caught in his throat. There had to be a reason - there had to be a reason. Anna's fury was fierce but he doubted she'd willingly allow this to happen again if she could've helped it. Perhaps this was just his own torment - a painful reminder that the last sane moment he had was one of his many failures.

He held Sonya's hand and sat, it wasn't long before Sonya was rasping out a humm - some sort of soothing mechanism to ease through the pain. It was a familiar tune... Anna would sing it to the children at the village... she'd sung it to Sonya before.

It was brighter in his memory, his new body supplying him with vivid imagery of the life he'd pushed behind him. Anna and her laugh. Sonya and her giggle - the way she demanded to be picked up with big eyes and a pout. Maera, plucking Sonya up with a cackle: "Don't look so sad, Sonya, you'll scare him!"

He knew this song. He knew this girl. He knew this...

He was no singer, but as he whispered the words, Sonya's crackling hums faded away, her expression softened as her trembling body relaxed. She squeezed Acnologia's hand once... a strange sort of peace taking over her smile. He got to the second verse and listened to her heartbeat a final time. Her last breath was a painful one, but she was smiling, tears of pain and relief coloring the blood on her face, painting rivers into her scarlet-stained skin.

Then all was still. He knelt beside the corpse for a moment. His sigh watered as memories of his two lives clashed in his mind. He hadn't changed anything... he hadn't saved anyone...

A younger him seethed. An older him stood with apathy.

There was a movement to his left and without thinking he lashed out with a single-wing attack, decapitating the armored dragon that had fallen but survived. No longer. Its crystal hide collapsed, not an ounce of life to be found under its scales. So a dragon had lived in his last life too. He'd been sloppy when he was younger... and distantly he wondered how many had paid the price.

The dragon's blood began to seep towards Acnologia as if called to the slayer who summoned it. The temptation existed only for a moment - the whisper worming into his ear like a parasite. He scooped up the small body and began to walk for the exit, leaving the whispers to scream their disappointment.

He felt disconnected, in a body he'd once possessed with too many memories and too much life in his mind to match. The blood behind him cried in vain for his attention, trying to promise the power he'd once possessed. The power to win. To avenge. To best all those responsible.

What was he supposed to do?

The moonlight was cold on his skin and cruel to his eyes; Sonya could've been slumbering for her appearance. She looked so peaceful despite the scarlet that caked her form. He relied on muscle memory alone, his mind trying to contextualize it all as he wandered for the village in the distance that his new body remembered well though his old mind had long forgotten. He'd made it halfway down the mountain when someone called his name.

"ACNO!" his head shot up and there was Anna, racing towards him desperately, stumbling once on the rough path.

"Anna," he breathed in shock. Her hair was wild, bangs slipping through her updo from some fight. Her left side was stained with dirt as if she'd been thrown, and there was the smell of sheep's wool around her - she must've summoned Aries then.

So many details... and yet none of them mattered. He took an unconscious step back as she approached.

The woman stopped a few feet from him, seeing the girl in his arms. She knew instantly that Sonya didn't slumber. A terrible cry emerged from her lips as she rushed forward, gently crashing into them as she wailed at the stillness, brushing her hand through the girl's blood-caked hair.

Her cry did something, disarming Acnologia's knees as they both collapsed, Anna holding him and Sonya as she wept. He tried to speak and found himself choking on memories and sensations.

"I - I could not - I did not fix it," he managed in an apology she wouldn't understand. Anna only held him closer.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. It was as if she were trapped, staring at the dead girl's corpse, unable to move save for her shaking hands.

"She - I did not save her," he looked at the child in his arms and numbly felt his eyes overflow with warmth. There was a juvenile wail in his throat as his mind began to match his body. The apathy was fading, the older wisdom growing distant as memories disconnected from his form.

Desperately, he tried to hold on. He needed to remember. He couldn't lose himself... and yet this was a different sort of 'losing'.

"Don't blame yourself," Anna begged. "Don't you dare blame yourself!"

"I -"

"They came while we were gone - there was no way we could've known." Anna seethed. "It doesn't even make sense why they'd -"

"Punishment," Acnologia murmured knowingly. "He ordered this... he knew I would be too late. This happened to her because of me. They were supposed to kill everyone. Sonya was just... just unlucky -"

His last life told him that much. His master had laughed at such things right before Acnologia ripped a scream out of his filthy throat.

"No!" Anna snapped. "You know that's not true - you know it!"

She hugged him firmly and he couldn't do the same. She wasn't the same Anna... well... she was still Anna. He knew her... but she didn't know him. She didn't know. She didn't know...

"Anna... I need to tell you something," he breathed desperately as his new body and mind crashed under the weight of adoration. He'd been so young - they'd been so young. Two and a half decades, raised in war and violence, and yet... and yet... this him felt so prepared. So mature in such a naive mind.

She pulled away, her eyes still red and puffy from the tears and his words caught in his throat.

"Let's bury her first," Anna offered gently, looking back to the child. "Next to her mother."

He grimaced at the implications, his heartbreaking again. Maera... at least, she didn't have to see this... At least... at least...

He couldn't explain it, but it felt like there was a claw around his throat, squeezing.

"The village?" he pleaded breathlessly.

"Zeref directed the survivors to the South, dragon slayers will protect them there," Anna explained softly. 

"How many died?".

She didn't answer, she only pushed some of his thick hair from his face and cupped his cheek with her palm.

"We'll get that bastard," she swore, a vehement hate slipping through her guilt. "I promise you we will."

Acnologia nodded and looked down at the child, his thoughts growing a little clearer as older memories grew fainter and fainter. He was young again, his old life fading into little more than a terrible dream, but that dream's lessons branded themselves firmly onto his mind.

He could not lose himself this time. He would not mess this up. He avenged Sonya... He would avenge the rest of them. He would become Acnologia, King of the Dragons... but he would not become what he had been. That was why Anna sent him here. He leaned forward and the two of them pressed their foreheads together, breathing in tandem. It was so familiar to him... to this him.

Almost as if he'd never been anything else.

[ALRIGHT FOLKS, BUCKLE UP! HERE WE GO AGAIN!! REWRITE TIME! It is the same story and yet... quite different I think. The differences will come later... feel free to tell me what you think :D

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