Back at her apartment, Lucy sits at her desk, her pen frozen above the page. “Fuck,” she mutters. “What am I even supposed to do? I can’t hide this forever. Erza will notice. Natsu… definitely. Eventually.” She closes her eyes, trying to feel the signature of the spirit. Nothing. Just static—like something’s hiding from her. Masking itself. “Fucking key!” She slams her hand down on the desk. “Why can’t I feel you? What are you?!”
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