Chapter Text
It’s not a myth; or at least that’s what Ritsuka said to herself after the end result.
The whirring of the Guardian Heroic Summoning System permeated throughout the room. One would think of this as another usual day for calling on additional Servants to Fujimaru Ritsuka’s arsenal – had it been done on a socially accepted time to be awake.
The clock ticked 2 AM in the morning.
Electricity crackled – none too dangerous – loudly, thus signaling that a Servant was being brought forth. Da Vinci had a wonderful suggestion of rolling a catalyst past the wee hours of midnight, saying something along the lines of “having a better chance of getting a stronger Servant.” Upon noticing the rainbow-colored sparks surging from the machine, Ritsuka braced herself for the upcoming summon. “Well, she isn’t wrong about that,” the lone Master did not want to admit that out loud.
It could only mean one thing: underway was a new Servant – and hopefully an amicable ally.
Lights danced through the walls, and culminated with a bright flash at the center of the system’s core. On the platform, a maiden with knee-length teal hair stood before their midst. Her long fringes covered half her face, but the somber expression could not be hidden. Lavender pupils readjusted its gaze on the orange-haired master. Posture remaining still, her mouth opened. The words freely flowed out.
“Brynhildr. My class is… Lancer. Please do not be kind to me, Master.”
Her tone was barely audible, but Ritsuka still flinched in surprise as she heard the forlorn voice of the summoned Servant. She noticeably felt her heart pound quicker – remembering that name all too well. “You surely get surprised easily, Master,” Emiya, who had volunteered to observe the summoning process, snickered at how nervous the aforementioned girl had looked. He too could not forget such an encounter with that Brynihildr. Mash, her ever-reliable kouhai, patted her tense shoulders.
Realizing that this Brynhildr was not like the one they had dealt with months ago, Ritsuka released a sigh. The Valkyrie tilted her head in confusion.
“A-Ah, sorry, I just recalled something,” a goofy grin plastered on the orange-haired Master.
“…”
A beat passed before things started to get awkward. Fortunately, Ritsuka had already dealt with almost every kind of summoning – from rebellious, hot-blooded knights, to haughty demi-gods. Surely a soft-spoken Valkyrie would pose no problem for her. Reaching for the timid woman’s hand, Ritsuka met those melancholic eyes with a smile from ear to ear.
“Welcome back to Chaldea, Brynhildr.”
“Thanks to you, Master, I’ve had a good time.”
“I told you to blame me for not being a good one.”
“The emotions… fictional backstory… we began from there, and fell in love with you along the way.”
“I don’t need your excuses, just curse me as I am!”
“It pains me to say it, but this is the end for me.”
“How… how can you still smile like that?!”
“Goodbye, Onee-sama.”
Outside the mighty fortress of Chaldea, a snowstorm brewed mercilessly. The fortified walls kept its frost barrage muted, acting as the perfect fodder for those who wanted an uninterrupted sleep. Besides the light rapping of hail at the windowpanes, the interior of the facility remained still and tranquil. Only the faded din of the summoning system rung at a distance. Besides such, nothing could disturb the several slumbering occupants of Chaldea – save for its lone Avenger.
“Why,” she mumbled, grasping the remnants of her ephemeral dream.
She hadn’t expected an answer. She learned never to do so in the first place.
Like the relentless winds outside, the roaring of resentment continued to batter at her blackened heart.