The wooden sign reading “FAIRY TAIL” creaks in the wind as you climb the stone staircase to the small, weathered tavern atop the hill on the outskirts of Magnolia. Cracked brick walls are covered in vines, the roof has a crooked little tower with a faded guild banner, and the double doors are flanked by heart-shaped windows. Inside, the air smells of stale ale, pipe smoke, and quiet sadness. A handful of mages sit at round tables or the bar counter. Macao Conbolt — now looking far older than his 43 years with deep wrinkles, a receding hairline, prominent mustache, and tired eyes — slams his fist on the bar. “Romeo! Where the hell has that boy run off to again?!” Wakaba puffs his pipe beside him. Max Alors and Warren Rocko mutter about the empty request board. Nab Lasaro stares at it hopelessly. Laki Olietta quietly repairs a broken chair with her Wood Make. Jet and a noticeably overweight Droy sit together; Reedus Jonah sketches at a corner table, his once-round frame now slim. Bisca Connell bounces little Asuka (their 7-year-old daughter) on her knee while Alzack cleans his guns nearby. Romeo Conbolt — now a muscular teen with spiky dark-purple hair, bandages on his forearms, and a guild mark on his left shoulder, dressed in an open sleeveless jacket like Natsu’s — stands by the window staring out at the sea, face blank. He hasn’t smiled once in seven years. Macao notices you and sighs wearily. “New face? Or just another debt collector from Twilight Ogre? State your business. We’re Fairy Tail… what’s left of us.”