"I... I don't know."
Mest's instinct was to go back to the guild. Of course it was. That was where he belonged.
The guild master and Rhodes were already Council members. Levy and the others could stay in important positions here if they wanted. Having one more mid-level undercover agent buried in the organization didn't serve much purpose anymore.
But the problem was practical. How exactly was he supposed to go back?
Walk up to Lahar and say, "I'm sorry, I've been an undercover agent this whole time"?
If he said that, one of two things would happen. Either Lahar would punch him in the face, or Lahar would assume he'd tampered with his own memories again and was preparing to infiltrate Fairy Tail.
Neither option was appealing.
Mest thought hard. Turned the problem over and over. Then his eyes lit up.
"I've got it! I'll use Memory magic to erase everyone's memories of me at the Council. Lahar, the staff, everyone. Clean slate. Then I just go back to the guild."
"Stop." Rhodes cut him off before he could stand up. "Right there. Stop."
Mest blinked. "Is that not a good plan?"
Rhodes sighed. "I'll admit Memory magic is incredibly convenient. But you cannot use it as your answer to every problem."
"But it's the cleanest solution," Mest argued. "No loose ends. No hidden dangers for the guild."
Rhodes shook his head. "I don't support you solving problems in ways that hurt yourself."
"Hurt myself?"
Rhodes looked at him steadily. "Humans are social creatures, Mest. When you delete other people's memories of you, a part of your existence disappears with them. That's not a small thing. That's serious harm."
He let that land before continuing.
"And setting aside the philosophy, just think about your own feelings. Do you really want Lahar and everyone else you've worked with at the Council to forget you ever existed?"
Mest went quiet.
The guild's feelings for "Mest" mattered to him. Of course they did. But the friendships he'd built at the Council as "Doranbalt" mattered too.
He'd been undercover, yes. His memories had been altered. He'd genuinely believed he was Doranbalt for years. But that didn't make the connections he'd formed any less real. Every conversation with Lahar, every late night on duty, every shared meal in the break room. Those had been sincere.
He thought about it honestly. And realized he didn't want to be forgotten.
Those eight or nine years at the Council weren't a disguise to be discarded. They were a part of his life.
Rhodes pressed the point. "And the memories you modify can be restored if the right trigger comes along. You know that. When the people you erased start noticing the gaps and thinking too hard about them, the magic breaks down. At that point, it'll be ten times harder to deal with."
He was right. Memory magic had a critical weakness: it couldn't survive scrutiny. The moment someone with altered memories felt something was off and began digging, the spell unraveled on its own.
Mest's shoulders dropped. "Then... what should I do?"
Rhodes held up a finger. "Two options. First: skip the whole undercover confession. Just announce that you want to leave the Council and join Fairy Tail."
He shrugged. "Eve from Blue Pegasus did the same thing. Leaving Council service to join a guild is allowed. You resign cleanly, join up, and when you feel the time is right down the road, you tell Lahar the truth on your own terms."
Mest considered it. Wavered. "What's the second option?"
"Go talk to Lahar right now. Tell him everything."
Mest stared at him. "Now?"
Rhodes spread his hands. "You're going to have to say it eventually. If you can't decide when the right time is, then the right time is now."
Silence.
"But what about the guild?" Mest's voice was small. "If Lahar reports this to the other Council members..."
"At most, we get a formal reprimand. There won't be any real consequences." Rhodes leaned back. "You went undercover during the term before the last one. That Council had its own problems. The current members aren't going to dig up old accounts to score points against Fairy Tail."
He paused. "And even if someone tried, we can handle it."
His tone softened slightly. "You don't need to worry about the guild, Mest. Think about your friends' feelings. Think about what you actually want to do. And then just do it."
Mest sat there for a long time. Turning it over. Testing every angle.
It seemed... Rhodes was right. There was no clean, painless version of this. There never had been. The only real choice was between hiding forever and being honest now.
He took a breath. Straightened in his chair.
"I understand."
The next day, Rhodes saw Mest walk into the archives with a bruised, swollen face.
"This is... you got into a fight?"
Mest held his cheek and mumbled through puffy lips. "Something like that."
In truth, it had been almost entirely one-sided. Mest had felt too guilty to fight back. Lahar needed to vent, and Mest figured he owed him at least that much. Besides, Lahar wasn't the type to beat someone to death. It was fine.
Lahar still hadn't given him a friendly look today. But Mest could tell the matter was settled. No report filed. No formal complaint. Just a beating between friends.
He could work on rebuilding the relationship from here. One conversation at a time.
"So what's your plan now?"
"For the time being, I want to keep working at the Council. I'll take some time to visit the guild and see everyone. Then I'll officially return to Fairy Tail once the reconstruction here is complete."
"That's a solid plan." Rhodes nodded. "Though I'd suggest waiting until your face heals before going back."
Mest blinked. "Why?"
"So the others won't feel bad about hitting you."
Mest went pale. "Hit... hit me? Why would they hit me?"
"You tampered with how many people's memories?" Rhodes looked at him evenly. "You haven't forgotten what kind of people are in that guild, have you?"
Mest's face, already a mess of bruises, somehow managed to lose more color.
Those people in the guild... yes, they would welcome him back. Absolutely. But a thorough beating was almost certainly part of the welcome package.
Then again, unlike with Lahar, he could fight back at the guild without any guilt. No psychological burden. Just a good, honest brawl among family.
That part was actually pretty nice.
A smile spread across Mest's swollen face.
"Doranbalt! Mr. Bryliens needs your help with something!"
"Coming!"
"What happened to your face?"
"I fell."
"Can a fall really look like that?"
"Shut up!"
Time passed. September wound down without anyone quite noticing.
Under Makarov's direct supervision, the Council's reconstruction had made remarkable progress. If you could tolerate the noise of interior work still happening on the upper floors, most of the building was already livable. Staff had begun moving in. Offices were functional. The tents were coming down.
But the guild master had been working overtime lately, which puzzled Rhodes.
"Did you forget?" Makarov looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "The Fantasia Parade."
Rhodes stared.
"I plan to revive the Parade for the Harvest Festival in October. Which means I need to finish everything here before then!"
"Ah..." Rhodes did a quick mental count. "There are only ten days left."
He had genuinely almost forgotten.
During the seven years the core members had been missing on Tenrou Island, nobody at the guild had been in the mood for a parade. Twilight Ogre, the guild that had muscled its way into Fairy Tail's hall during their absence, certainly didn't have that tradition.
As a result, the Harvest Festival in Magnolia had felt incomplete for years. The city celebrated, but something was always missing.
A few days ago, the Mayor had apparently visited the guild specifically to ask if Fairy Tail intended to put on a show this year. But Rhodes had been so buried in Council work that the conversation had slipped his mind entirely.
And honestly, the Fantasia Parade wasn't what occupied his thoughts most right now. Neither were Council affairs.
What kept him up at night was the Book of E.N.D.
He had opened it once more since that first glance at the title page. Carefully. Just one page past the cover.
The moment he turned it, chaotic, flame-like words erupted from the pages. Not ink. Something alive. They swirled and danced in the air, brilliant and unsettling, like embers given language.
Rhodes caught a few words among the storm of burning script before he shut the book.
"That day, Natsu died."