No one expected her like this.

The door opened and Erza Scarlet stepped through, but the armor was gone. Fishnets clung to her thighs, silver platforms lifted her, and the thin straps of the top did almost nothing. She walked to the center of the room, turned, and dropped into a wide squat without a word—knees out, heels planted, everything on display. Both hands rose in casual peace signs. Her face was flushed, mouth open, tongue just visible, the blue Fairy Tail mark still bright on her arm.

For a second no one spoke. The proud knight, the Titania who requipped through battles, was unrecognizable. The armor that had always defined her sat somewhere else. What remained was just Erza, legs spread, smiling like she had chosen this on purpose.

“I’m back,” she said, voice low and amused. She rolled her hips once, slow, and stayed open. “And I’m not putting it back on yet.”

The room stayed quiet. She didn’t look away. The Erza they remembered had walked in, dropped the armor, and spread—and she looked like she had no intention of stopping.