Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Far beyond the reaches of knowledge, beyond the reach of humanity, in a place where only their most distant dreams can brush against his realm, he watched and observed. Humanity had always been fascinating. They were complicated yet fascinating, full of similarities yet contradictions, full of wisdom yet foolish. They would walk forward, stumble, fall, or throw themselves to the ground, only to get up once more and keep walking, for good or ill. Thus, he loved them dearly and observed the paths they took.

His counterpart did much the same, albeit for different reasons. While he took delight in them standing and moving forward, his counterpart in turn took delight in them stumbling and falling. In fact, sometimes they instigated with a small push of their own – and sometimes more. But these days, they both preferred to simply watch and allow their agents to move for them and see what course humanity would take of their own will.

Their sight, however, stretched beyond the perception of normal humans. The past, present, and the future all lie within his view. And he saw a future: A future of fire. A future of demons. And also, a future of greatness, of humanity’s strength gathering into a shining star as it reached for it all. Infinitely warm, infinitely greedy, infinitely powerful. It would be a grand trial with an enormous risk, but it would pave the way for humanity’s next step forward.

Thus, he and his counterpart met. They discussed – in both words and concepts – what they had seen and what they would do. They could leave it to their agents, but there had to be a small nudge toward that future. One that could grasp both the good and evil, one who was just as greedy as all of humanity and generous in equal measure. Candidates were considered, eliminated, narrowed, and finally, focused on one: A candidate that intrigued them both. They would watch his progress eagerly and see if he would take and embrace everything – or fall to utter oblivion.

Opening his hand, a small butterfly made of light coalesced and formed in his palm. Unbidden yet laden with his will, it fluttered off into the endless darkness of the Sea. Delicate yet unyielding, it would find the pieces to move into place, and once that was one, the great trial would begin.

His lips curled into a small, amused smile. What was that one saying humanity thought up some time ago? ‘The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world’. What a delightful line – one that had been proven time and time again.

The opportunity to prove it yet again has come.

The blue, sterile hallways of the Chaldea Security Organization were filled with noise as people walked by, chattering among themselves as they moved in a single direction. Occasionally, they had to move aside to allow the automated assistants through, with a few cursing them as they went by. The air was filled with nervous anticipation – after all, it was the commencement of the very first mission of their work. The staff had been here for months if not years, constantly researching, engineering, refining, and maintaining the systems and equipment here, and now it was time to display the fruits of their work. It would be a lifetime achievement for all of them, and it would be a new beginning for all of them.

And not amidst them was a very lost young man.

Ren Amamiya pulled a bit at the collar of his white uniform that he had been given as standard issue for his job as he tried to look around for any signs or maps. He had taken a bit too long putting his luggage away (especially considering what – or who – he smuggled in) and had lost track of the crowd. It certainly didn’t help that every hallway looked almost exactly the same, rendering him walking in circles – verified by a small sign on a door he had definitely seen before.

He sighed in exhaustion. This was almost as bad as trying to find the Ginza line again on his first day of school. It certainly didn’t help that he was sleep deprived as he once more tried to suppress a yawn. He had slept throughout the entire flight here – wherever ‘here’ actually was - but evidently it didn’t help with the jet lag. Hopefully after the orientation he could catch a nap, assuming he could make it back to his own room. Otherwise, a quiet, out-of-the-way corner would do.

The former Phantom Thief ran a hand through his messy, black hair as he thought back to how he even got here in the first place. It had been a month since he got back home from Tokyo. His parents hadn’t spoken a word to him ever since he got back, which didn’t surprise him – after all, they didn’t bother checking up on him once during his probation period or his brief time in juvenile hall. It had just been a matter of unpacking, trying to refamiliarize himself with his hometown, and keeping in contact with everyone in Tokyo.

To say it was disconcerting was putting it mildly. His former friends avoided him like the plague. Everyone who knew him in the past either ignored him or gave him the stink eye as he walked past. He expected all of it though it didn’t make it sting any less. All he could really do was draft up plans for his move to Tokyo in about a year or so when he became independent. Sojiro had made it clear he could stay in LeBlanc if need be, but he didn’t intend to take advantage of his kindness.

Then something strange happened. He had been passing by a blood donation drive and decided to stop by. Even if he wasn’t a Phantom Thief anymore, he could at least assist others if even in a small way. The next day, two men in suits showed up to his home, spooking his parents who immediately called him down, thinking he was being arrested again. And indeed, Ren was more than wary of them. He figured he had eyes on him, but he certainly didn’t expect them to be so blatant.

But no, they came from something called the Chaldea Security Organization. They were looking for certain candidates and apparently Ren fit the mark almost perfectly. They wanted to hire him, a prospect that both he and his parents were incredibly skeptical of. Then they showed the contract, and the sheer number of zeroes up front dispelled any doubts his parents might have had.

Ren could only sigh to himself when he saw their reaction. Again, he should’ve expected this. It seemed his read of people had been getting worse and worse as of late.

They left after saying they would give him a day to think about it. His parents immediately wanted him to take the offer, and Ren couldn’t deny that it was incredibly tempting. With the amount they were paying, he could easily move to Tokyo with no issues and not have to worry about money for an incredibly long time, if ever again. Still, it certainly seemed too good to be true. That night, he immediately contacted his friends.

Ryuji: I dunno, man, this sounds incredibly sus.

Makoto: I agree. Offers like this usually have some terms and conditions attached – severe ones. It definitely sounds like something Kaneshiro would have cooked up if he had the resources.

Ann: No way would that pig ever be that generous, even for a long con. But yeah, something’s fishy here.

Yusuke: The veil of greed may cloud even the most perceptive of eyes. Futaba, Haru, do you have any insights?

Haru: I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this organization, at least not off the top of my head. I will have to talk to a few of my father’s associates – perhaps they are aware if we have made any investments on them and could furnish me with some information.

Futaba: Working on it, Inari!

Yusuke: I thought I had asked you not to call me that?

Futaba: You asked, I ignored. I thought you learned the rhythm by now.

Sumire: It certainly does seem too good to be true, senpai. What do you think about all of it?

Ren: It definitely stinks like all get out, I won’t argue that. But the contract seems legit. We even have a copy that we can take to a lawyer and make absolutely sure.

Makoto: Would you like my sister to take a quick look at it?

“Huh, it’d probably be a good idea to ask,” Morgana piped up from where he sat on his desk. Ren nodded in agreement.

Ren: If it’s not too much trouble, please.

Makoto: Okay. DM me the contract and I’ll see if she can look at it when she gets home tonight.

Ryuji: So, uh, out of curiosity, how much are we talking about here?

Ren listed the figure. Morgana eagerly peeked at the phone to see everyone’s reactions as soon as he hit ‘send’. A moment passed, probably so everyone could process the number, then they all started typing at once.

Ryuji: FOR REAL?!

Ann: HOW MUCH?!

Yusuke: Is-is there that much money in the world?

Futaba: OMGWTFBBQ WHAT IS THAT NUMBER

Sumire: Th-that’s quite a lot!

Makoto: I… I just want to make sure - you didn’t forget a decimal point or mistype the number of zeroes, did you?

Haru: Oh my! That’s quite a princely sum!

Morgana chuckled. “If Haru’s saying that, then it’s definitely a lot of money,” he cheekily pointed out. Ren could only chuckle in agreement.

Ren: I definitely agree. And here’s what me and my parents get up front .

He typed in the figure and waited for the response.

Ryuji: … so uh, buddy, pal, uh, how soon do you gotta leave?

Ren: I’ll treat all of you. Thought that would be a given.

Ryuji: HELL YES!! You’re the best, man!

Ann: All the cakes I can eat~!

Yusuke: Caviar and foie gras! Such culinary masterpieces will be within my grasp!

Haru: There are some delicacies that I can recommend for all of you, though I will have to ask what your budget is, Ren.

Sumire: It will be hard to check on the nutritional value if I go overboard. Hm…

Ryuji: Hey, don’t sweat it. I’ll help you out with that.

Sumire: Thanks, Ryuji!

Makoto: Guys, do remember that Ren hasn’t signed anything yet and therefore hasn’t been paid? I suggest holding off on your fantasies before you make yourself hungry again?

Ryuji: Yeah, a bit too late for that, Queen.

Makoto: …

Morgana snickered. “Typical Skull,” he remarked. Ren chuckled as well. Then he realized that Futaba had been quiet for a while. That was concerning.

Ren: Futaba, you there?

Futaba: So, I checked every database I could about the Chaldea Security Organization.

Ren: Nice. What’d you find?

Futaba: It exists.

Ann: I mean, that’s good to know, but anything else?

Futaba: Nope. Wherever I look, all I got is a name and a few details that show it’s legit, but otherwise I can’t find heads or tails of… well, anything. No names, no manifesto, no finances – heck, not even an official address to their headquarters! It’s like every bit of actual detail about them is kept off the net!

Makoto: That’s… worrying. Were you not able to hack into their systems?

Futaba: Queen, please – it’s me we’re talking about. If the info’s not there, then it was never uploaded in the first place. They’re probably going old-school in their info: Hardcopies, disk and memory drives, intranet computers, the works.

Sumire: What makes you so certain, Oracle? This does sound like the kind of scam we hear about where no trace of the company was found afterward.

Futaba: Yeah, uh, I don’t think the United Nations database would have a scam company on account.

“The WHAT database?!?” Morgana screeched in pure shock, mirroring Ren’s own as his eyes widened.

Makoto: Futaba, I thought we talked about this!

Futaba: Don’t worry, I made sure to cover my tracks. But yeah, I had to follow a trail of the tiniest breadcrumbs and it reached all the way to the UN. Not even Japan’s national databases have anything on them.

There was a moment of silence from the chat and from Ren and Morgana as they processed what Futaba told them.

Ren: So to sum it up: I received a job offer from a place that has absolutely no info on the internet, but is marked down by the United Nations themselves. Meaning it’s all top secret. Is that about right?

Futaba: That covers it, yep.

Another silence.

Ryuji: Sus.

Ann: Very sus.

Yusuke: This feat of trickery would put the Trojan Horse to shame.

Haru: I am rather skeptical of this.

Sumire: This is all sounding incredibly risky, even for you, senpai.

Makoto: I agree with everyone here. This all sounds very shady at best.

“Yeah, can’t blame them,” Morgana murmured as Ren glanced over. “The payout’s nice, but we’ll be essentially going in completely blind without any backup. You sure about this, Joker?” Ren was silent as he quietly considered. Then the sound of footsteps caught his attention as he glanced over. They approached, becoming louder and louder… then faded as they simply passed by without so much as a pause.

Right. He had forgotten one important fact: This wasn’t his home anymore.

Ren: Queen, I’m gonna send you that copy of the contract. If it checks out, then I’m in.

Ryuji: Whoa, you sure about this?

Ren: It’ll make a nice nest egg and funds for when I move to Tokyo properly. Aren’t living costs over there kind of insane?

Makoto: … you aren’t wrong. It was a point of contention between me and sis for a bit.

Ann: But still, isn’t this going a bit far for money? There’s gotta be other ways, right?

Futaba: Yeah! Just give me a bit to whip up another gacha and I can-

Ren: Guys, thanks. Really. But honestly, I just want to get out of the house at this point. Besides, there’s worse ways of spending a summer vacation than with a top secret UN-associated organization.

Yusuke: Is your home life that bad, my friend?

Ren hesitated for a second as Morgana quietly observed, saying nothing.

Ren: … it could be better. Let me put it this way – at this point, you guys are my family now. That’s what I choose.

Sumire: Senpai…

Ryuji: Well yeah. You’re our bro, bro. We always got your back, like you always got ours.

Makoto: If that is your decision, then we’ll do all we can to help you.

Haru: And even if we can’t, we’ll be with you in spirit all the way!

Ren: … Thanks, guys. All of you.

Futaba: I’m so telling Sojiro – he was bawling after you left. Did you know that?

Yusuke: As I recall, you were in a similar state yourself.

Futaba: Shut it, Inari!

Makoto: Can you two please behave…?

Morgana nodded resolutely. “I hope you’re not expecting to go alone,” he spoke up, glaring at Ren. “This place sounds incredibly dangerous and we’re gonna be working with next to nothing. I’ll be coming with you.”

Ren blinked in surprise, then smirked with amusement. “Airport security’s pretty strict,” he pointed out. “It’s going to be tough to smuggle you in.”

The catlike being chuckled. “Joker, I thought you had more faith in me than that,” he remarked smugly. “Just leave it to me – I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And that was that. The contract got checked out and given tacit approval from Sae (though she called later in the evening with a good number of terse questions). The men came back, the contract was signed, and a day later, Ren was picked up and brought to a private airfield, complete with a jet without windows. His eyebrows practically raised themselves right into his hairline at the sight, but he pushed forward regardless.

Now he was here in this facility that looked like the set of a sci-fi film, completely lost. Morgana was most likely establishing himself in his bedroom – there was no way for him to easily follow him through these open hallways anyway – while he made his way to the orientation. That being said, it didn’t help that he wasn’t provided with a map, nor were there directions he could read. Just where the heck was everything-

As he rounded a corner, he collided with something soft. Looking down, he saw a girl maybe slightly younger than he was, with short lilac-colored hair and glasses. She wore a lab coat with a black shirt and red tie, as well as a black skirt. Odd. Was she someone who worked here as well? She seemed pretty young for it – but then, he had no right to talk.

Pushing aside the thought, he offered a hand. “Sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention,” he apologized as he gave a rueful smile. “Are you alright?”

The girl looked up in surprise, then gently took Ren’s hand as he helped her up. “Oh, yes, my apologies, senpai,” she quickly replied. “I was not paying attention to my path. I hope I did not inconvenience you.”

“Not at all,” Ren replied. “In fact, I could use a bit of help. Do you know how to get to the Command Center?”

She nodded and pointed down the hallway. “Take the second hallway to the left,” she explained. “And go straight down. You should be able to find the Command Center straight ahead, senpai.”

Ren nodded in relief. “Thanks so much, miss…?”

The girl bowed slightly. “Mash Kyrielight,” she introduced herself. “I am an employee of Chaldea. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, senpai.” Suddenly, there was a bit of motion from underneath her coat, and a small, white creature hopped up on her shoulders before turning to face him. It looked like a white… fox? With incredibly luxurious fur. That was the best description he had for it, anyway.

Mash blinked in surprise, then gave a gentle smile as she reached up to scratch it behind the ears. “And this is Fou,” she explained. “He is a privileged life-form allowed to wander the halls of Chaldea.”

“Fou, fou!” Fou barked, staring at Ren with curious eyes.

“Ren Amamiya,” the former Phantom Thief introduced himself in turn with a smile. He slowly moved his hand in front of Fou, allowing the little creature to smell him first. A moment later, Fou rubbed himself against his hand, allowing him to pet the little creature in turn and eliciting a small smile from him.

“Oh,” Mash gasped in mild surprise. “Fou normally doesn’t take to people.”

Ren smiled. “I have a way with animals,” he remarked as he continued petting Fou. Mash seemed like an earnest girl. “Why do you call me senpai, by the way? I just started here – if anything, I should be calling you senpai.”

Mash tilted her head slightly. “Because you are my senpai in life,” she replied. “You have experienced more of the world than I have. I only know of Chaldea but otherwise, my knowledge is limited to whatever I can browse from books or the organization’s archives.”

The former Thief’s mouth dropped slightly in shock at this information. Before he could respond, he heard a man’s voice call out. “Ah, Mash! I don’t wish to rush you, but I believe the others are waiting for you to suit up!”

They both turned to see a man in a green suit and top hat walking toward them, his cane tapping lightly against the tiled floor. “Mr. Lainur,” Mash greeted with a bow. “Forgive me. I was informing Ren-senpai how to reach the Command Room from here. He was lost.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Is that so,” he mused. “I thought I had put in a request for some direction signs or maps to be posted some time ago. I’ll have to look into it. But at any rate, I can bring him to the Command Room myself – I’m headed in the same direction anyway. You had best prepare, Mash.”

Mash nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to Ren. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ren-senpai,” she murmured. “I hope to see you again.” With that, she bowed once more to the man before walking off. Fou gave one last ‘Kyu!’ before she walked around a corner and disappeared from sight.

“Now, we best make our way to the Command Room,” the man stated cordially. “Olga- er, Director Animusphere gets testy when people are late, Mr…?” He held out a hand.

Ren grasped it and shook firmly. “Ren,” the former Phantom Thief introduced himself. “Ren Amamiya.” He looked up at the man’s features: Longer, curly hair, a face made for smiling, about middle aged. The man seemed affable enough – and yet, for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt off about the man. Still, it was better to play the fool for now until he had more information about his environment and the people within.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Amamiya,” the man replied with a broad smile. “I am Lev Lainur, one of the technicians of Chaldea. Granted, as a Master candidate we won’t be meeting frequently, if at all, but nevertheless, it is a pleasure.”

Blinking, Ren looked him up and down. “You’re pretty well dressed for a technician,” he commented.

Lev stopped for a second, then laughed. “That is true,” he agreed. “But today is the commencement of Chaldea – I should be dressed to impress for such a momentous event, no? Ah, yes, the commencement! We should hurry before the director truly loses her temper!”

Ren nodded and they both began walking down the hallway toward the Command Room. “Speaking of which,” the former Thief spoke up. “The job description was pretty vague. What do they expect me to do here?”

The technician glanced over at him. “Hm, the paperwork was fairly vague, as I recall,” the man mused. “Well, you need not worry. As a Master Candidate, you are only serving as backup in case something happens to the main team. I suppose it would be equated to the understudy of the actors. If all goes well – and our main team is highly capable, I assure you – then it should be a fairly simple job.”

Lev grinned. “An easy job and a large payout,” he remarked. “I believe you have discovered most peoples’ dream! My congratulations, Mr. Amamiya!”

Ren chuckled as the technician laughed. “I guess I have,” he agreed. Still, his mind raced. Backup? For a main team? Of what? And now that he thought about it, what was the position of ‘Master Candidate’ supposed to mean? Was he supposed to serve as some training for maids or something? Somehow, he had a feeling a particular teacher would be very unamused if she found out that was actually his summer job.

In a fishing pond in Tokyo, a certain woman sneezed.

The Command Room was a huge affair. About as large as the Shujin gymnasium, it was lined with workstations with computers, all filled with people wearing different colored uniforms. The aisles were filled with yet more staff as they listened to the director speak. The walls were blue but curiously shaped, someone stacked a bunch of triangles and squares together in an odd pattern. At the center of it all was a gigantic globe, showing a holographic display of the world.

Right below the globe was a young woman. Dressed in yellow, her white hair gleamed from the light of the hologram above as she gave her speech. Ren was about to stand behind the others when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Lev shaking his head. “Not here, I’m afraid,” he whispered. “Master candidates are supposed to be up front.”

The former Thief inwardly blanched at that. His first day here and he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. It was like Shujin all over again. Nevertheless, he reluctantly nodded and quietly pushed through the crowd, flowing through a sea of green and orange uniforms until he finally reached white. The other Master candidates around him looked in surprise, then showed a wide array of emotions: Some simply turned their attention back, a few smiled, and a couple more looked scornful.

Ren decided to keep a low profile. Better not stand out for now.

Now that he had a closer look at the director, he was surprised. She seemed fairly young – probably around Sae’s age. And she was already the director of a top-secret facility? He was already impressed with Sae being a star prosecutor within the SIU and later an excellent defense attorney, but this was a whole new level. Her white hair and yellow eyes were even more prominent too. It reminded him a bit of Lavenza, only less ethereal.

He sighed inwardly to himself. After he left Tokyo, the Velvet Room no longer appeared for him. He wondered how she and Igor were doing. Probably observing all of humanity like they usually did. Were they watching him right now?

Suddenly, he felt eyes on him and looked up to see the director glaring straight at him. Did she notice he had just arrived? She was about to angrily open her mouth when movement to the side caught her attention. Turning, the director blinked in surprise as Lev walked up. “Lev,” she called. “I was about to ask for you. It isn’t like you to be tardy.”

“Apologies Olga – er, Director Animusphere,” he hastily amended himself. “I had a few matters to check up on as well as guiding a few people to the Command Room. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.

The director frowned slightly in consternation, shooting a quick glare at Ren, but nodded. “It’s fine, I’m sure you had your reasons,” she accepted easily. “I’m glad you could join us.”

Lev smiled and bowed. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” he replied, causing the director to smile as the man took his place beside her.

Ren watched everything unfold with no small amount of surprise. He didn’t think Lev was a simple technician, given his mannerisms and genteel yet affable nature, yet he hadn’t expected him to be that high up on the hierarchy. Was he perhaps the vice director? It certainly reminded him of when he first encountered Kamoshida as he drove by to pick up Ann. He seemed affable enough at first… though that lasted all of a day before his true self slithered out. He could only wonder if that was going to be the case here.

With that, the director continued her speech, expressing how proud she was of everyone who worked here and how everything was only the beginning. However, her voice droned on and on, and Ren found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The jet lag and recent lack of sleep had been catching up with him, and now with the director’s speech combined with the quiet, it was getting harder and harder to resist. The fact that he was still standing wasn’t making a difference either. His eyelids gradually closed as darkness took him-

The next moment, he felt someone elbow him in the side, startling him awake – and face to face with the director. She stood shorter than him, but the fury on her face and eyes more than made up for it in terms of intimidation. “You have some nerve,” she hissed. “First you show up tardy, inconveniencing Lev, then you fall asleep during the commencement speech? You obviously have no idea as to the importance of the situation.”

The former Thief gulped. From his peripheral vision, he could see everyone had turned their attention to the both of them. “Sorry about that,” he apologized meekly. “I didn’t sleep well during the flight here. I meant no disrespect-“

“And yet you have disrespected me, the facility, and everyone here regardless,” the director interrupted flatly. “Since you feel that this is all too boring that it would send you to sleep, then you are dismissed. Await further commands from your quarters, and we shall see what disciplinary measures are needed, if any.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between the two of them. Ren’s gray eyes were absent of any emotion, easily meeting the director’s angry gray eyes without any trouble. A few onlookers nervously whispered to each other as everyone watched in anticipation. The air grew tense as neither side seemed to back down from whatever unspoken battle was brewing between them.

Finally, the former Thief bowed his head. “Sorry for the trouble,” he murmured. Turning around, he quickly walked out, threading his way through the crowd. He thought he heard a few words of sympathy and felt a few pats on his shoulder, but he disregarded them for now besides a few small smiles of appreciation. For now, he could use a nap.

The director watched as the Master candidate left… then slowly, quietly let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. No one could see it, but she could feel the sweat bead underneath her hairline and her neck. As she turned to head back, she had to fight off the urge to rub her neck. Every second she was under his gaze, it felt like she had a dagger at her throat. People like that were… uncommon, to say the least. She would consult Lev, but he had walked off in the middle of her speech earlier, most likely to attend to other business. He had a habit of doing that.

No matter. It was a new day for all of them. She would make her mark and perhaps, finally, her father would be proud of her. Some new entrants caught her attention. The director turned and beamed at them.

“Team A, to your Coffins!” she commanded.

Ren could only sigh tiredly as he walked down Chaldea’s halls. With everyone in the Command Center, he was the only walking through as his footsteps echoed faintly among the walls. Luckily, he didn’t need directions this time – he had already been shown his room, after all, when he first arrived, and he knew where it generally was. At least he would have a bit more time to familiarize himself with his room and what resources it had – well, before he got punted out, anyway. He didn’t exactly make the best first impression on his first day of work.

He blew out a quiet breath as he imagined his adulthood. Would this be what happened? Working under a boss that had a temper about as short as Jack Frost’s attention span? Just the very thought of it gave him chills down his spine.

As he walked, a robot rolled by, catching Ren’s eye as it quietly passed by him. He stopped to stare at it as it glided away, an odd sight in contrast to the empty hallway. It reminded him of the robots in Okumura’s Palace. Unlike those ones, which looked relatively human, this robot was cylindrical with a domed head on top, with a small camera mounted as well as various ports and slots. He recalled during the introduction that Chaldea had robotic servitors to take care of most daily needs: Laundry, cooking, janitorial duties, and more. That way, everyone could keep their focus on their work without distractions.

The former Thief idly wondered if he could take one back to Tokyo with him. Sojiro would appreciate having a helper around the house – or at the very least, having someone help clean up Futaba’s room. Futaba herself would be over the moon. She would practically be salivating over it and immediately start taking it apart, seeing what she could do with it as well as various upgrades. Knowing her, she might even hollow it out so she could crawl inside and pilot it around.

… Actually, thinking about it, perhaps it was better he couldn’t take one with him. He didn’t want to imagine the sheer amount of chaos Futaba could cause with one.

Walking along, it wasn’t long before he reached the living quarters. It seemed every single employee had their own rooms, which was certainly a welcome surprise. Ren certainly appreciated the privacy– and it meant he didn’t have to worry nearly as much about what he smuggled in. He turned a corner, reached his room, and tapped on the panel beside his door. It hissed open-

And showed his room very much occupied.

Ren blinked in surprise as he stared at the person in his room. A man perhaps a couple years older than him, with unkempt orange hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in a doctor’s coat over his green Chaldea uniform, was in his chain watching something on the computer very intently. Before he could speak up, a girl’s voice spoke up from the computer. “ Thank you for the superchat~” she chirped. “ ’Ah, Magi Mari is my only solace among all my work!’ Well, if I’m your only solace, maybe you should go outside and touch some grass? Or at least go stretch your legs? You’re probably getting flabby from all the slacking off you’re doing, you know.”

“Ah, Magi Mari, you’re so right,” the man cried. “Though you didn’t have to say it so harshly, you know.” He spun in his chair – and caught sight of Ren standing at the open doorway, simply staring.

For a moment, neither of them spoke as they tried to process the situation. Then the man suddenly rushed to close all the open browser windows on the computer before standing up, clearing his throat to compose himself. “I, er, thought this room was unoccupied,” he muttered.

“I just moved in,” Ren replied simply. Most of his luggage was currently in his locker right now which would explain why the man thought it was unoccupied. Other than that, however, he didn’t seem to notice anything. Morgana must’ve either managed to either hide himself or snuck out before the staff member arrived. It helped that his best friend wasn’t like other cats and never seemed to shed either, leaving no trace of cat fur. It certainly meant less he’d have to clean up at least.

The man blinked. “Just move- Ah, you must be one of the last Master Candidates to be recruited!” he exclaimed. Standing up, he grinned as he offered a hand. “I’m doctor Romani Archaman, the head physician of Chaldea. But please, just call me Roman.”

The former Thief took his hand and shook it as well. “Ren Amamiya,” he replied. The doctor’s more laidback air and friendly tone reminded him less of Takemi and more of Maruki. “So, Roman, any health hazards in my room I should know about?” he asked, smiling wryly. “After all, if it requires the attention of the head physician, there must be a serious issue here. A chronic case of otaku, maybe?”

Roman immediately spluttered. “When- how long did-“ he immediately stammered, then sagged with a sigh of resignation. “Okay, I’m not supposed to be watching videos on the clock,” he quickly said. “But Magi Mari was having a stream today and I’ve already missed the last one! I couldn’t miss another one! You have an idol too, right? You understand!”

Ren couldn’t help but smirk. “Can’t say I do,” he replied truthfully, chuckling inwardly as the doctor’s expression turned despondent. “I’ll keep it a secret though, not to worry.”

The doctor blinked in surprise, then sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you so much, Ren,” he said. “Tell you what, next time I’ll treat you to some tea after the first mission is finished.” Then he stopped and checked the time on the computer. “Wait, the commencement is right now,” he noted. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Command Center?”

Ah, the ten million yen question. He debated what to answer with him and he was curious to see how Roman would react. “I got on the bad side of the director,” Ren replied truthfully with a shrug. “And she sent me packing while promising disciplinary measures. Not exactly fun.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “What’d you do to incur the director’s wrath that quickly?” he asked in surprise.

“Arriving late and accidentally dozing off during her speech,” the former Thief replied bluntly. “The latter I blame more to jet lag than anything else.”

The doctor winced at the answer. “Ah, I see…” he murmured. “I understand your frustration but please don’t be too angry with her. She’s been under a lot of stress lately, especially today. This first mission absolutely had to be a success, after all.”

Ren had a niggling feeling there was something else and decided to push a tiny bit. “A bit hard to do,” he admitted. “She nearly bit my head off in there. Is the mission that important that she’s practically on the edge of a meltdown?”

Roman opened his mouth, looked past the young man to see if there was anyone else outside, then sighed. “Honestly, it is,” he answered earnestly. “The former director – the founder of Chaldea and her father – recently passed away, leaving everything on her shoulders. Since then, she has been doing everything to uphold her father’s legacy, and it hasn’t been an easy road for her. This first mission would be the proof she could provide that everything here meant something – to her, to her family, and to everyone who worked here. So… again, I understand your anger, but I do ask for your patience with her if you could, Ren.”

The former Thief’s frustration immediately melted away into hollow horror. That sounded almost exactly like what Haru went through: After her father had a mental shutdown, not only was she stuck grieving for her family, but she had to deal with constant hounding of her father’s associates as well as that scumbag of a fiancé she was set up with. He helped her weather the storm as best she could, but there was still a lot she had to deal with. And even then, Haru didn’t bear the responsibility of fully running Okumura Foods, the president taking up the mantle until she was ready.

He thought back to the director’s situation. If what Roman said was true, then just under how much pressure was she? Suddenly, he couldn’t blame her for snapping at him – even if he still believed it was an overreaction. “Alright, I understand,” he answered quietly.

The doctor seemed taken aback at the easier answer, then smiled gladly. “Thanks so much, Ren,” he sighed in relief. “She’s a good person, just a bit temperamental is all. I’m sure once the mission’s over, she’ll be able to relax a little. Heck, she’ll probably even forget about disciplinary-“

Suddenly, there was a distant roar and everything around them quaked. A moment later, alarm klaxons began ringing out as the lights began flashing red. Both of them looked about in alarm. “What happened?” Ren demanded.

Roman raced back over to the computer. Opening it, he rapidly pulled up the status report with his own credentials. “There was an explosion in the Command Room,” he rapidly reported. “Casualties unknown as well as structural damage.” He typed a few more keys, then his eyes widened. “The blast doors are going to be sealed in order to suffocate the fire!”

Ren’s eyes widened. Then that would mean any survivors there would be trapped and sentence to death! “Get the med bay ready,” he ordered. “I’ll check on survivors and get as many as I can out of there.”

“Wait, Ren!”

However, the former Thief had already sprinted out the door and was racing towards the Command Room. He heard a distant startled squawk from Roman and moments later, Morgana was running alongside him. “I heard what happened, Joker!” he quickly stated. “I’ll go ahead and look for survivors!”

Ren nodded as Morgana ran ahead. For a moment, with his surroundings flashing around him, it felt like the last day of a heist in a Palace. Then he immediately shoved that thought from his head as he grabbed a corner and used that to help make a tight turn. Soon, he was approaching the Command Room. Even from here he could feel the heat of the flames that steadily got hotter and hotter as he approached.

Entering the Command Room, he was forced to bury his face in his sleeve in order not to inhale any smoke. The room was in ruins: Wreckage and rubble lay everywhere, with torn wires and broken electronics sparking. Flames leaped up all around him, bathing everything in an infernal light that made it hard to see. And worst of all, he could see people strewn all about – bleeding, mangled, and unmoving. He pushed down his nausea as he forged ahead. Not the time.

“Joker! Joker, over here!”

The former Thief locked onto Morgana’s voice. Climbing over some destroyed tables and debris, he found Morgana next to a survivor. His eyes widened as he recognized the survivor: Mash Kyrielight. Unlike before, she was wearing some sort of orange and white jumpsuit. But more importantly, she was trapped underneath a large piece of rubble. “I can’t get her out!” Morgana yelled. “I’m going to look for more survivors just in case, but I’ll leave this one to you, Joker!”

“Got it!” Ren responded as Morgana dashed off. He quickly checked on her, seeing what he could do. Unfortunately, the rubble was pinning her down so he couldn’t pull her free. Perhaps with a bar he could lever it off her.

Mash’s eyes fluttered open, though only barely. “S-senpai…” she rasped out. “D-don’t worry about me. Please escape... The blast doors… they’ll close any moment…”

“And leave you behind?” Ren asked, forcing a cheerful grin despite his rising fear. “Not my style.” He finally found a long bar that would serve as a lever. Shoving one end underneath the rubble, he began pushing down on the other to try and force it off. However, no matter how much he pushed or pulled, utilizing his full body weight and strength behind it, it didn’t budge whatsoever.

“S-senpai…?”

“I almost got it, Mash,” Ren panted out – then the bar broke with a snap, sending him crashing to the ground. He had to bite back a curse as he reevaluated his strategy. He hadn’t heard from Morgana either. While he knew his best friend was okay, did that mean he couldn’t find anyone else…?

“M-may I ask something selfish of you, s-senpai...?” the girl murmured, her words barely audible above the flames.

Singularity located. System Error. System Error. Rayshift functionality compromised. Unable to shut down. Locating eligible candidates.

The automated PA system boomed out something, but Ren ignored it. That wasn’t important right now. He looked over at Mash, her eyes weak and plaintive. He wanted to reassure her and say something like ‘you can ask for anything you want once you’re out of here’, but somewhere, deep down, he knew he’d never get that chance. “Sure, Mash,” he replied gently as he knelt beside her. “What do you need?”

“C-“ Mash choked a bit, her throat drier than she expected. She swallowed some saliva and spoke again. “Could you… h-hold my hand…?” she asked, reaching forward slightly.

Ren paused in surprise at the request, then nodded. “Of course,” he answered. Reaching over, he took Mash’s hand in his own. Her hand was much smaller than his. It felt so weak and fragile. Slowly, her fingers curled around his hand, and Ren softly grasped hers in turn, wrapping his other hand on hers as well.

The girl sighed softly and smiled weakly up at him. “Th-thank you… senpai…” she rasped out. The former Thief gulped and could only force a smile in response.

Candidates located. Beginning Rayshift in T-Minus 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

Suddenly, the entire room erupted into white around Ren – and then he fell into darkness.

Chapter Text

A soft piano melody reached his ears was the first indication. The hard bed underneath him was the second. Ren’s eyes opened once more and was greeted with the cramped quarters of at a cell, the walls lined with blue cloth. The lonely woman’s wail came through, letting Ren breathe a slight sigh of relief. He gave a small smile. He knew where he was now, which was a small comfort in of itself.

The Velvet Room was rather unforgettable, after all.

He swung his legs over his bunk and blinked as he noticed something. He wasn’t in his prison uniform (which he didn’t miss whatsoever, especially the gigantic ball and chain that came with it), but neither was he in his Phantom Thief outfit either. Instead, he still wore the white jacket and black pants that was the Chaldean uniform. And another thing caught his eye: A red tattoo on the back of his right hand. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at it. The tattoo looked like his mask, made and stylized into multiple lines connecting them together into the shape. Ren was never one for tattoos and would certainly not get one as obvious on the back of his hand. And besides, he was sure it wasn’t there before.

But he could ask his questions later. His cell door was opened so he walked through. Everything was the same: A circular room with jail cells lining the walls. Loudspeakers hanging above the center. A simple desk in the middle. Sitting at that desk was a suited balding man with an incredibly long nose and perpetual grin and standing beside the desk was a little girl in a blue dress with silver hair, holding a massive book. Their appearances were unnatural and otherworldly, but for Ren, they couldn’t have been a more comforting sight. He simply grinned up at them. “Igor, Lavenza,” he called out. “It’s good to see you again. So, is the Velvet Room the afterlife as well?”

Igor’s grin widened at the greeting. “It’s good to see you too, dear guest,” he replied, his high-pitched voice filling the jail. “Once more, welcome to the Velvet Room, though I do wish that the circumstances of our meeting were better. We have much to do and unfortunately, little resources nor time to do so.”

The girl, Lavenza, curtsied, her yellow eyes sparkling with affection. “Greetings, my Trickster,” she replied. “It has been some time – though admittedly, not as much time as we would like. Still, it’s good to see you again regardless.” Ren understood. The Velvet room and its occupants only showed when something serious was happening. The fact they were showing themselves to him once more only meant that everything was in trouble. Again. “You are not dead, else you would not be here right now. No, your mind has been summoned here once more. As the false god once said, it is your duty to prevent ruin. But… I’m afraid this time, through no fault of your own, ruin has come after all.”

Ren’s eyes widened, then narrowed. The mention of Yaldabaoth and his constant yammering about ‘ruin’ was something that nobody in the room took lightly at this point. “So I’m not dead then,” he stated simply, putting his hands in his pockets with a smirk. “Then just like that time we vanished and returned, it means we can do something about it. It’ll be like old times.”  The thought of which caused his body to seize up in fear, his throat choking a bit. The experience of vanishing into nonexistence was not one he had been eager to relive, and neither was the impending execution from Caroline and Justine by the fake Igor. But he forced his fear down. As Igor had said, there was probably much to do and most likely little time to do it. Traumas could wait. It would probably be with just Morgana but… he’d manage. He always did. “Let’s summon my Personas and begin with prep. I don’t suppose you know who I’ll be taking down this time?”

Lavenza hesitated. “Trickster… “ she began. “As you know, Personas come from Shadows, who are born from the Sea of Souls in the collective unconsciouness.” Ren nodded slowly. Morgana, Caroline and Justine, and Igor had explained things to him. It took a bit of talking with Futaba and Maruki to fully comprehend them though. With shaking hands, she opened the massive book – and Ren’s eyes flew open with horror. The Compendium was the book of Personas. Ones he had persuaded to join his side and ones he had created by executing and fusing their powers together. They were powerful allies, reflecting different aspects of civilization’s mythology or history, standing as their guardians, heroes, and villains. Ren had painstakingly gathered pages and information to the Compendium, including his greatest one, born from the end of his adventures: Satanael.

The Compendium’s pages were burnt to cinder. Every last one.

“Wh-what… how….?” Ren literally didn’t have the words for it. That was impossible. He knew that the Velvet Room could be tampered with, given what Yaldabaoth had done in the past, but even he couldn’t interfere with things like the Compendium. That was linked directly to his own power, and it drew power from the Sea of Souls. But the fact it was destroyed was something he hadn’t expected whatsoever.

Lavenza closed the book, her eyes watering with tears. Igor hummed. “Trickster, I will not mince words here.” Ren looked back at Igor. The long-nosed man’s grin was still there but his eyes were hard and serious. Much more so than Ren had ever seen them. And he seemed to be under some considerable strain too. “Humanity has met a ruin that it could have never foretold nor stopped. The sea of souls has been wiped with flame, and because of that, much of our power is lacking. I’m utilizing a considerable amount of my own power to keep the Velvet Room in existence, and even I do not know how long it will last.”

Ren had to catch his breath when he heard the explanation. Humanity has met ruin…? Wait, then what about his friends? What about Sojiro or Kawakami or Takemi, or everyone else?! How could the sea of souls be utterly wiped out?!? It was connected after all to humanity’s collective unconsciousness. There was no way it could be wiped out so long as humanity existed!

However, as soon as he came to that conclusion, his skin turned paler and paler. The horror came crashing down with all the weight of finality itself. The room wavered in his eyes and he couldn’t stand anymore, collapsing on his knees as all strength left him. If the sea of souls was destroyed, that meant the collective unconsciousness was gone, one way or another. Even Yaldabaoth’s control or Maruki’s paradise couldn’t inflict such a heavy catastrophe, despite them essentially being able to control everyone’s minds. No. For that to happen, in order to completely destroy the collective unconsciousness, to the point where the Velvet Room couldn’t delve into it to grant strength, meant only one thing:

Humanity was gone.

“Trickster!” Lavenza cried out in horror. Dropping the now-useless Compendium, she raced over to throw her arms around the distraught former leader of the Phantom Thieves. She had been practicing and studying gestures of affection to connect more with humanity and to surprise Ren if he ever came back, but she hadn’t ever expected to utilize her practice in such a manner or dire situation. “Please, Trickster, I know it all seems lost, but it isn’t! We might still have an opportunity! There might be a way to reverse ruin!”

Ren blinked blearily up at the girl, then back at Igor. Did… did they truly have a way? But he didn’t have his friends anymore. No connections. He didn’t even have his Personas or his powers. It certainly seemed completely hopeless. Even worse than when the false Igor nearly had him executed as Caroline and Justine wailed on him, or when Maruki had given his friends – save for Akechi – what they wanted, depriving him of allies. But was that it? Was he truly going to flop over? Despite everything, he fought back each and every time to the bitter end. He clenched his hand and relaxed it, a small ironic smirk crawling up his lips as he thought of it. True, the situation was indeed dire. Possibly utterly impossible, with this unjust game.

So for Ren, it was just business as usual. He stood back up. His Phantom Thief outfit flickered into view for a brief second before vanishing.

Igor’s eyes lit up in happiness as Lavenza released him, happy that her Trickster once more found the resolve to face the future. “Excellent, most excellent,” Igor crowed, clapping. “I must admit, none of our guests have faced such a calamity as you do now, but once more you continue to exceed expectations.” He tented his hands in front of him on the table. “Now, the situation has changed considerably, as you know. We would take direct action ourselves if possible, but as it stands, we cannot afford to waste our powers. The burden of this, unfortunately, will be yours once more, Trickster. However, we shall bestow you gifts and power immediately. They will be far different than what you are accustomed to, but I am certain you will learn to master it in due time. Lavenza, my dear? If you would.”

Lavenza nodded and turned back to Ren, placing a hand on him. “This will be unpleasant, my Trickster,” she warned him apologetically. “But please, I ask you to bear with it.” Suddenly, Ren’s body was bathed in turquoise light.

And he screamed.

It felt like his body was being simultaneously torn apart and burned alive. His nerves were on fire, his skin felt like it was going to erupt and split open all over. The headache of his Awakening had been beyond painful, but this was well past that. He was barely aware of the green light and fresh spring breeze that came with powerful healing magic as he held onto what remained of his mind, trying to last through the pain. He curled up into a fetal position, screaming his throat bloody, as he waited for the pain to finally end, one way or another.

Finally, the pain abated, leaving Ren gasping for breath as he felt the cool relief of Lavenza’s healing magic and the cold stone floor soothed his overheating body. Taking a few more calming breaths, he stood back up laboriously, with Lavenza immediately running over and supporting him. His body felt fine, but it felt… different, for lack of a better word. Whatever that gift was, it was certainly far different than what he had been granted before (granted it was the false Igor who granted him said gifts, but Lavenza and the real Igor assured him that said gifts were painless anyway). He flexed his hands in practice – and saw a shimmer of turquoise circuit lines on his skin. He immediately looked back up at Igor.

“I have granted you magic circuits and a crest,” Igor explained. “They will allow you to use powers beyond most of humanity. Unlike your powers before, they can be used in the real world at any time, without requirement of the Metaverse. Under normal circumstances, these gifts would be far too dangerous to give to any guests, both for their safety and for the world as a whole. However, it would seem Alaya has designated otherwise, and so has granted permission for these to be given to you. I do hope you make good use of them.” Alaya? What the hell was that?

“Your powers now will be far more taxing than they once were,” Lavenza chimed in, looking at Ren with utmost seriousness and concern. “Magic circuits are a blessing and a curse. They can allow you to use powers beyond most of humanity, but they have weaknesses that we cannot shield you from. And should you overtax yourself in their usage, you will without a doubt perish. Your crest will allow you to use your powers in a similar manner as you have done so before, but I urge you the greatest of caution now. You are the only chance of preventing ruin, and… I do not want to see you hurt any more, my Trickster.”

Ren gulped at the warnings. So, he was granted power to help overcome ruin, just like he did before. Only this time, this power could kill him if he didn’t use it carefully. It wasn’t like before where if he overused Personas, the worst he got was exhaustion and a massive headache. He would have to be extremely careful how he used it. But still, what Personas did he still have? If the Compendium was utterly destroyed, then how would he get more personas? As a Wild Card, being able to switch between Personas was one of his greatest strengths, able to capitalize on any weakness. While just one Persona was fine, he doubted it would be enough.

He cast his mind back, delving into the far reaches. At the very least, there was one he could summon. After all, this one wasn’t simply a Shadow from the now obliterated Sea of Souls. This one was always there, from the very beginning to the very end. Perhaps he would be here too. “Hey. Don’t suppose you’re still there?” he called out into the depths of his mind and soul. At first, there was nothing but silence, which worried Ren. Then he heard a faint rustle of feathers and a low laugh.

“I am thou, thou art I, contractor. I am your true self, and I am always here.”

He had to grin. Well, that answered his question, didn’t it.

“I’ve also granted Morgana circuits and skills as well,” Igor added, catching Ren’s attention again. “He will be able to manifest his Metaverse form when the collective unconsciousness is stronger. Your powers shall also draw from the collective unconsciousness as well. It will be less taxing if you can summon personas that belong to your setting.” Ren blinked, then nodded. Admittedly, that didn’t make much sense but very rarely did Igor make sense, fake or real. At the very least, Morgana would have his form and his Persona back. It would be good to fight alongside him again.

A pang rang out in his heart. He didn’t have his friends though. And it was possible they were gone for a very long while.

“You will be able to come across new companions as you fight,” Lavenza told Ren. “You won’t be alone. There is an existence parallel to the Velvet Room yet not: The Throne of Heroes. They shall be another source of strength you can draw from. Your allies will tell you more about it.” Ren looked down at the girl and nodded. He was getting lost again, though admittedly he was used to both Igor and the Velvet Room attendants being cryptic as all get out. At the very least though, he did trust them. Well, the genuine articles anyway. He’ll ask once he got out of the Velvet Room to… wherever he was.

“Now, one last note, my dear guest,” Igor added, catching Ren’s gaze once more. “Some of your allies are what you call Mages. They utilize magic circuits and crests like yourself, with different specialties. However, they can be rather… unscrupulous with their gifts and their pursuit of knowledge. I must ask you to not speak to them of the Velvet Room. They have come close to breaching multiple times with a fervor that I find deeply repugnant. Should you reveal that you have access to the Velvet Room, I genuinely worry for your safety, during and after your battle. You might have fewer allies than you’d expect.”

Traitors. Ren wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept. A certain brown-haired detective taught that lesson quite clearly. Still, if that was Igor wished, then Ren saw no reason to refuse it. Especially if mages were as bad as Igor implied. Hiding his discomfort, he smirked over at Igor. “Have to ask, how many times have mages tried to reach the Velvet Room?”

Igor chuckled. “Oh, no small number of times, I assure you. I might’ve lost count after fifty or so. If they do get close, an attendant is typically on hand to see them out as necessary.” Ren had a good feeling that ‘seeing them out’ usually meant ‘total obliteration’. From the times he fought Caroline and Justine, and then Lavenza, if the Velvet Room attendants were anything like them, then it was clear ‘restraint’ was rarely in their vocabulary.

“Well, if that’s all, then, I guess I’ve a world to save. Again,” he added with a slightly bitter tone. He looked over at Lavenza. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to join us? I’ve a feeling we could use your power.”

Lavenza shook her head sadly. “My apologies, Trickster. I must assist my master in maintaining the stability of the Velvet Room. Still, I wish you the best of your journey and hope to see you soon. Just know that I love you, as I always have.”

Ren smiled, reaching over and giving Lavenza a small pat on the head, who smiled in turn. He knew that would be the answer but it was worth a shot. “Well, in that case, I’ll see you guys when I see you.” Flashing one last smirk, he walked back into his cell and kept walking as the back wall folded away into blackness.

Singularity F – Fire-Contaminated City: Fuyuki

“….npai…. enp…. Senpai!”

Ren opened his eyes and blinked. Night sky filled with smoke. Orange light from fires. His back felt uncomfortable like he was laying on something extremely rough. Did they make it outside? Wait, they were in the Antarctic – if they did, he would either be seeing a lot more snow or be freezing like all get out. Probably both. And frankly, all he felt was uncomfortably warm from the flames.

“Senpai!”

He looked over and saw Mash again. Her wounds were gone and she looked safe. She breathed a sigh of relief. Ren had a thousand questions on his tongue but Mash quickly spoke up. “Um, I wish I could explain what happened, but everything happened so quickly,” she explained rapidly. “Please look over at your surroundings.”

Ren blinked as he looked around and his eyes widened. Surrounding them were skeletons. Their bones were charred black by flames and they held in their grips rusty, chipped swords and spears. But more importantly: they were upright and moving. Spindly and weak-looking, sure, but they were moving and didn’t look none too friendly. Looking around, he did a quick count. About six of them. They were in a clearing of rubble so they had some room to maneuver, but even then, they were still surrounded. Skeletons in what looked like to be hell. He had to wonder if even the Metaverse could be that cliched.

“Communication has been impossible,” Mash explained as she stood up, hauling something huge in her hands. It was then that Ren could take in her appearance. She now wore some sort of tight-fitting armored dress with purple highlights and hauling a metal cross-shaped shield that was about as big as Ren was tall. Though he had to admit, how was that armor protecting anything? The skirt was extremely short giving view of her bare legs, her navel was exposed, and so was her shoulders and upper arms…

Then he shook his head. Given how the Phantom Thieves dressed, he really, REALLY had no right to judge.

“Master, your orders, please!” Ren had to blink as Mash called him ‘master’. It brought to mind a certain maid – no, not right now! He can contemplate that later! Right now, they were surrounded. Mash seemed to be able to take care of herself but that didn’t change the fact that they were surrounded. There had been a few times like that with the Phantom Thieves, but he didn’t have a Vanish Ball on hand to easily get out of it. Well, time to do things the hard way.

“Take out that one over there and we’ll break through,” Ren commanded, pointing to a specific skeleton. “We’ll take out the others once we have some better footing!” Mash nodded and went to work. Her actions left Ren spellbound. Despite hauling such a huge shield, she moved faster than an Olympic athlete, quickly closing the distance to the skeleton. Raising her shield, she smashed it against her hapless victim. The skeleton flew back and crashed against a wall, breaking apart into nothing but piles of shattered bone. Shaking his head, he quickly picked his jaw off the floor and followed through the opening Mash made, both of them whirling around so the skeletons were now only in front of them rather than surrounding them.

“Right, let’s go, Mash!” Ren yelled.

Mash nodded. “Yes, senpai!”

She immediately charged back into the fray, her shield once more raised and smashing through another skeleton. Ren looked over at where the skeleton was destroyed and picked up its sword. The blade had snapped in half, now resembling more a dagger than a sword.

Ren smirked. Good.

Charging forward, he ran up to one of the skeletons that was trying to flank Mash. Moving low, he got a few slashes in before the skeleton swung its sword, causing him to hop back to dodge it. He frowned. For a bag of bones, it was surprisingly resilient. He wished Futaba was here to give him support, but she wasn’t, so he had to make do. Reaching up to his face, he made to cover it with his hand, giving the skeleton another smirk. He could feel his body heating up and a familiar laughter echoing through his head.

“Come, Arsene!”

Blue flames erupted from behind Ren as his Persona appeared. Clad in red and a top hat, its black wings stretched out as his flaming face flashed a malevolent grin. It towered easily over the skeletons and everyone else present. Ren grinned at the feeling of his old friend at his back once more. “Ravage them!” he roared. Arsene laughed as he flew forward. Swinging his heeled feet, he cleaved through a skeleton and caused a geyser of darkness to erupt under another, shattering the former and dissolving the latter.

Mash had destroyed two skeletons herself but stopped to watch flabbergasted at Ren’s actions. “M-Master, how… what…?” Unfortunately, she had neglected the last skeleton, who raised a spear and thrust. She barely got her shield up in time, the impact causing her to slide a few feet back. Ren scowled and was prepared to summon Arsene once more when –

“Zorro!”

A gust of sharp wind blew in, slicing the skeleton’s arm, then the rest of him, away. Ren looked over and saw Morgana once more. He was now in his metaverse form – a cartoon-like bipedal cat that barely reached up to his knee, with a far too large head. In his hands was one of the skeleton’s swords. He leaped down from the rubble and grinned up at Ren. “Really, Joker? I know you had a newbie with you, but I didn’t expect you to get THAT rusty,” he commented smugly. “Guess it was a good idea I came with you after all.”

Ren had to chuckle. “Yeah, you were right, Morgana,” he replied with a smug grin to match his. Then his grin smoothed out to a gentle smile. “Thanks for being here.”

Morgana chuckled. “Always got your back, Joker.”

“U-Um…”

Ren and Morgana turned to Mash, who was staring at the two of them in confusion. “A-are you two mages?” she asked. “What kind of magecraft was that? And…” She looked over at Morgana. “Who… or what…. Are you? I haven’t seen anything like you before.”

Morgana grinned. “Glad you asked, Miss Kyrielight! I’m the ever-awesome Morgana! I help out Joker here and he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he did without me!” Ren just rolled his eyes and smiled good-naturedly. Morgana liked to be full of himself a lot of the time, but it was harmless. Besides, watching Mash’s confusion was amusing, as it always was.

“Oh, um, a pleasure to meet you, Morgana,” she said with a bow (after she set her shield aside). “But… you called senpai Joker? Is that some sort of nickname or…?”

The transformed cat glanced over at Ren. “It’s a nickname, yeah, from our other work,” he explained vaguely. “Force of habit – don’t worry too much about it.” That mildly surprised Ren. Normally Morgana was deeply insistent on code names since they didn’t know what shouting their real names would happen in the Metaverse. But then, they weren’t in the Metaverse, were they? And besides, no doubt Morgana had been briefed about the situation from Igor as well. This was all too real for all of them.

Suddenly, a blue light popped up beside them. All of them dropped to combat stance as the blue light resolved itself into… an image of Roman. “Right, I finally got through!” he said, his voice tinged with desperation and relief. “Hello? This is Chaldea Command Room! Do you read me?” Mash opened her mouth to respond before Roman continued talking. “Wait, these readings… Ren, are these magic circuits? And a crest? You didn’t have any just a moment ago! Where did you – how did you –“  Something grabbed his attention and he looked down and saw Morgana. A few seconds passed. Then…

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!?”

Ren sighed, facepalming. There was a lot to explain, wasn’t there.

Chapter Text

It had been a trying explanation overall. Roman gawked over Morgana as he tried to process precisely what the hell he was. According to the sensors, he was a living creature… and that was about it. Nothing they had in their records could match up what Morgana was – not an animal (though cat was a closer comparison) or a familiar. The closest classification they had was a ‘Monstrous Beast’, which he took great offense to.

“I’m not some beast or a monster!” he shouted in protest. “I am Morgana! The most I’ll let you call me is a cat or a person, but not anything else!”

It took a lot of reassurances from Roman that it wasn’t a form of insult – it was literally just a species classification used to describe creatures like chimeras, hydras, or kelpies (Ren jolted a bit at that last one). That seemed to settle down Morgana a bit, though he still grumbled how he was a ‘fine, one-of-a-kind cat’ as opposed to everything else. Ren thought that being rated the same as mythological beings like those would be a bit of a compliment compared to just a cat but he wisely held his tongue. No need to turn Morgana’s wrath on him.

 In turn, Ren found his brain spinning at the amount of information that was unloaded. First Mash was now something called a Servant, but not really as she had taken in a Heroic Spirit into her body as opposed to it manifesting. He was a Master now, which meant he could… command her? Well, not quite, but more channel prana into her as essentially upkeep for her superhuman powers. He could actually command her with the fittingly named Command Seals – the tattoo he had on his right hand. Said seals could either force her to do something or, if their desires both matched up, provide a considerable power boost to whatever action he ordered. He only had three uses though, which recharged within a day.

Ren’s mind locked on to the mention of ‘heroic spirits’ though. Roman gave him a quick summation of them: Spirits of heroes and legends past that can be summoned from the Throne of Heroes to fight in something called a Holy Grail War. There were two terms that Ren latched on to: The Throne of Heroes and the Holy Grail War. The Throne of Heroes had been mentioned by Lavenza and Ren began putting together the contextual hints. It must be the residing place of all these spirits of heroes and legends. He doubted he would have the same access to the Throne as he did the Velvet Room, but Lavenza did mention that its existence was a parallel. He’d have to find out more about it, but perhaps he could work that to his advantage.

The next term caused his heart to drop to his stomach, though he carefully moderated his expression. Morgana’s fur hackled a bit though he did the same. The Holy Grail War. There was only one Holy Grail that they both knew of, and neither of them had great experiences with it. A being that was born from the apathy of the citizens of Tokyo, in the form of a twisted granter of wishes. To fulfill the wish of having something or someone else think and make decisions for everyone else as opposed standing up and living their own lives. Ren still remembered the prisons at the bottom of Mementos, how the shadows of everyone was content to live within their cells, convinced they were in paradise rather than what it truly was.

However, that information was currently irrelevant to the situation at hand. Communication was getting increasingly staticky and would cut off soon enough. Roman quickly pointed out a leyline terminal they could get to, uploading the coordinates which displayed on Ren’s Chaldea-issued watch. Soon after, communication was cut off, and it was just him and Mash. All parties had an inordinate number of questions, but until they could resolve this Singularity and get back to Chaldea, none of them could be answered. At least they had an objective to go to. Ren certainly didn’t miss when they just kind of winged it through Palaces during the early days of the Phantom Thieves.

As they trekked, both Ren and Morgana could only take in the bleak surroundings. It looked like a modern city but struck by some sort of calamity that turned it all into ruin. Buildings and structures were crumbled, roads torn up and broken, revealing metallic skeletons underneath. Flames were ever present from heaven knows how many sources, covering the area in sweltering heat and unbearable smoke. The latter rose into the night sky, reflecting the glow of the fires, bathing the location in an ominous light. There might have been one or two corpses they saw, but they weren’t sure, nor were they in any hurry to verify.

“This is horrible,” Morgana whispered as he trotted alongside Ren. Ren could only mutely nod. They had been through some horrible locations in the past – Mementos, the Prison of Regression, and Tokyo when Mementos started merging with the real world. Such eldritch locations inspired terror and horror for anyone who saw them. But those locations felt like places they could fight against and defy. That they could trace back to the source and ultimately take it down. But this… this ruined, desolate place felt too familiar for their liking. It was a situation that could happen at any time, and they couldn’t do anything to stop it. Even if they tracked it down to the source, the city would still be ruined and burning. This wasn’t a disaster they could prevent – it already happened.

“It’s quiet, Senpai,” Mash murmured as they marched. Ren listened. Besides the roar of flames all around them, it was indeed eerily quiet. No screams or shouts of survivors, no sounds of rescue vehicles, not even collapsing rubble. Once or twice, he could hear the rattle of bones from other skeletons, but other than that, there was nothing. “I thought modern cities were noisier than this. Even in disasters, there would be… something. Is this what it’s like, senpai?”

Ren shook his head. “No, that shouldn’t be the case,” he replied, keeping an eye out for anything hostile. “A city always has its own noises. Cars going by, people chatting, things like that. It can be a bit… overwhelming at times. Even in a disaster, there’s still some noise going on. People calling for help or shouting in panic, or sirens from ambulances and fire trucks.” The closest was when people started noticing Mementos merging with the real world, but Ren had seen and heard enough to get a general gist of things. “This kind of quiet is not normal in the slightest. Just keep on your guard.” Mash nodded as they trekked onward in silence, leaving everyone to their own thoughts. They were making good distance towards the leyline and weren’t too far away. Then something landed on Ren.

“Fou, kyu!”

Mash turned around in surprise. “Fou!” she cried out. The white little creature barked out happily before leaping off Ren’s shoulders to Mash’s own, nuzzling against her. She laughed as she reached up to pet it. “You must’ve been Rayshifted with us too. It’s good to see you safe, Fou.” Fou barked out in agreement. Ren had to smile. Rayshifted… that probably was how they got here in the first place, whatever the term actually meant. Still, it was good to see Mash happier. He reached over to pet Fou as well, and the little beast nuzzled Ren’s own hand as well. Fou stopped and jumped off Mash’s shoulders, walking forward to sniff Morgana – who completely froze in place, his fur standing on end. This, despite the fact that Fou only came up to the bottom of his head.

Ren couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, Mona,” he sarcastically commented with a gigantic grin. “I know you accepted that you’re a cat but I didn’t think you would take it this far.” It definitely looked like a little dog sniffing at a cat, and seeing the ever-confident, capable Morgana completely petrified by the small creature sent him over the edge. He needed the laugh after all the stress that had been building up so far. He wished so dearly that he had his phone so he could take a picture but he had left it back in his room. The other Thieves would’ve gotten a kick out of it, and Ryuji would never, EVER let Morgana hear the end of it.

Morgana scowled at Ren. “I-It’s not because i-it’s a d-dog!” he growled out, trying to not let fear into his voice – and failing spectacularly. Fou sniffed a little closer at Morgana who went even more rigid in response, even holding his breath as he did his absolute best to stay utterly still. Eventually, Fou lost interest and hopped back up on Mash’s shoulder, causing Morgana to breathe a sigh of relief… and glower at Ren as he still had that gigantic grin. “You better not mention this to the others,” he snapped.

“No promises,” Ren replied. Morgana could only groan.

A scream rang out in the air, immediately breaking the mirth of the group. All three began racing to the location of the sound, soon coming to yet another clearing within the rubble. There was the Director, backing off from another group of skeletons, fear wide in her eyes as she babbled incomprehensively, firing off orbs of magic at the skeletons who barely seemed to even slow down. Mash charged in first, her shield immediately crushing a skeleton’s head before whipping around and smashing another one to pieces. Ren summoned Arsene and obliterated another. Morgana moved to cover Olga, making sure nothing else would sneak up on her.

Thankfully, with the last skeleton, the coast was clear. “Area secure! Are you alright, Director?” Mash asked, looking towards the young woman.

Olga looked between all of them, trying to catch her breath. “Y-yes, Mash, thank you,” she breathed. Then her eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait, what’s going on here?!” She jabbed a finger at Ren. “You! You were a magus?! Since when?! Our data showed you had no circuits or crests or ANYTHING when you came! Mash! How did you become a Demi-Servant?! Or rather, why was it successful now of all times?!”  And YOU!” She in turn pointed to Morgana. “What in the Root are YOU?!?” Her voice was getting higher and higher with each word from a combination of hysteria, panic, and good old-fashioned anger.

Morgana glared up at Olga. “Quiet down!” he growled. “Do you want to attract every single skeleton within a five-kilometer radius? You’re doing a good job of that right now!” Olga’s eyes practically bulged outrage but she saw the logic in Morgana’s words and said nothing else. The cat being breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his rusty scimitar. “Right, that’s one person secured. Joker, what’s the leyline location again? I’m sure we’re close to it by now.”

Ren checked. “We’re right on top of it, actually,” he replied, blinking.

Olga blinked then cleared her throat. “A leyline you said?” she clarified, trying to regain control of the situation and her authority. “Mash, place your shield on the ground. I’m going to create a summoning circle with your Noble Phantasm. With it, we should be able to contact Chaldea and figure out our situation, possibly even summon up whatever supplies they can summon our way.” Mash nodded and got to work. Olga turned to Ren and Morgana. “And you two – as soon as we get back to Chaldea, you both will be contained for questioning. No one just suddenly gets magic circuits and a crest out of thin air, and even less so with a familiar.” she snapped, glaring at the two of them.

Morgana bristled at the threat but his reaction was nothing compared to Ren. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as his glare bore into the Director, the older woman unconsciously even stepping back from his wrath. At ‘contained for questioning,’ his mind immediately flashed back to the interrogation room, surrounded by men who beat him up and drugged him, forcing him to sign a false confession. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Director Animusphere,” he replied, his voice deathly quiet with grey eyes like steel. Arsene pulsed in his mind, ready to amplify and give shape to Ren’s rage. It was only what little sense Ren still had that he hadn’t summoned him.

The Director was speechless, mouth gaping, trying to muster whatever courage she could to argue against him before Mash called out, “It’s ready, Director!” Olga looked over at Mash, blinking, before breaking off to head to the shield. This boy was inconsequential, she reasoned. A civilian who suddenly gained circuits with some sort of familiar and just happened to be a conveniently close Master for Mash. He wasn’t a proper Magus. There was no threat to him. Chaldea would be able to deal with him and his without issue and they could figure things out from there.

Yet as she walked, she could feel his eyes boring into her back. It felt like she had chains wrapped around her throat.

When the image of Roman showed up, they were all updated on the situation. The group in the ruins hoped for some sort of good news, reinforcements, supplies, or just an easy way out.

There wasn’t.

80% of Chaldea had been rendered nonfunctional. Less than twenty employees survived the explosion. The other Master candidates were all in critical condition and were placed under cryo preservation under Olga’s hurried orders. The Rayshift equipment was damaged so they had no way out nor any way to send supplies. Roman was the one reporting the situation in the first place because there was literally no one else: Anyone higher ranking was dead, Lev Lainur among them, much to Olga’s despondence. Just hearing the numbers made Ren pale. The normally boastful Morgana couldn’t say anything either.

Then came the final question: What about Ren and Morgana? There was a brief discussion but an agreement soon came – they weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Wherever Ren got his magic circuits and crest from and what Morgana was was completely irrelevant to the situation on hand. The facts of the matter were that Ren had tactical talent, an aptitude for being a Master, and more importantly surprisingly potent magecraft that no one had ever seen. The fact that Morgana could utilize the same magecraft and had decent combat ability was also something they can’t overlook. With the situation as critical as it was, they needed every little advantage they could get.

Ren noted they were speaking as if though they could collect supplies and personnel from outside to replenish their ranks and repair the damage. Ren knew the truth but said nothing. He couldn’t reveal how he came by this info. And he desperately held on to a sliver of (false) hope. There had to be people who survived outside, right? These were mages, people who used literal magic! They could do anything, right?

A tiny voice in his head – not Arsene – told him otherwise.

As they marched, the Director berated Ren for not paying attention to the orientation and began explaining the situation: The point of Chaldeas was to safeguard the future of humanity at all costs. They had created the technology and magic for it and was approved by the U.N. According to their calculations, humanity was supposed to end in 2018 (about a year later), and there was a Singularity that theoretically caused it – the Singularity they were in now, for that matter. Once they solved the Singularity, then theoretically humanity should be able to continue for at least another hundred years. Once more, Ren had to bite his tongue.

“Right, we’ll stop here for now,” Olga stated once they came to the Great Fuyuki Bridge. “Mash, you’re wounded. Come here.” Ren blinked as he looked over, seeing Olga hold a hand over a small wound Mash had. A glowing light issues as the wound closed and healed itself. The Director nodded with satisfaction. “Good. If you take any more injuries, let me know as soon as possible,” she commanded. With that, she took off to take a look around the area. Ren huffed as he sat back against a car, Morgana joining him.

“Man, what’s her deal?” Morgana groused, glaring in the direction of Olga. “First she yells at us, then she threatens to throw us into prison –“ Ren gave an imperceptible shudder at the mention of that. “Then she marches us all over the place, looking for… what? At least back then, we knew there was a Treasure we needed to find a secure a route to! Some leader she is. We’re no better right now than chickens with our heads cut off right now.” Ren glanced wearily in her location, just shaking his head. He definitely felt more sore and tired than usual, and it wasn’t just the hike. Maybe it was from his new abilities?

“Cut her some slack, guys,” Roman’s voice echoed from Ren’s watch as a little hologram screen appeared. “Olga wasn’t even supposed to have this position. She was just supposed to be a Master candidate. But then the acting director, her father, died just three years ago and she had to take up his job. Then she found she had absolutely no aptitude as a Master, and between that and just running Chaldea and she’s…” Roman sighed, running a hand through his orange hair. “She’s under considerable strain, as you can tell. I know you two wouldn’t know this but both lineage and accomplishments are huge deals in Magi culture. If it’s perceived she screwed up or is in any way lacking, then she’ll be a black mark to the house of Animusphere and only invite a lot of trouble.”

Morgana’s eyes softened. “So, she’s someone forced to take up a mantle far too big for her and under a huge amount of pressure from society to succeed, no matter what gets in her way,” he summed up quietly. “Sounds familiar, huh Joker?” Ren could only nod. He could certainly attest to it. Makoto was forced to be the perfect model student no matter what, unable to act on her own justice because of it. Her older sister Sae resorted to extreme means to keep ahead of everyone else in the vicious world of law and courtrooms. Sumire was constantly compared to her older sister and broke after said sister died, to the point of having Maruki essentially hypnotize her into believing she was her older sister, Kasumi. He wondered what would happen if she was taken to the Metaverse. Would she eventually snap and Awaken to her own Persona?

Ren shook his head. No. The less people – Especially magi – knew about the Metaverse, the better.

A couple minutes later, they were back on the march again. They were hassled by yet more skeletons but Mash made short work of them. Any that slipped by or tried to ambush them were met with either Ren’s Arsene or Morgana’s Zorro (Olga’s eyes twitched whenever she saw either of the Personas but made no comment on them). Whenever either Mash or Olga tried prodding them for information, they either gave vague answers or just didn’t answer them entirely. They felt a bit worse to Mash as her questions were polite and innocent, and only explained it to her that they needed to be kept secret. The Director, they were curter, if only because she wouldn’t stop bugging them otherwise.

It proved to be slow, unproductive going, however. Roman didn’t detect any particular signals that would lead to the source of the Singularity, and the aimless wandering wasn’t doing any favors for Ren or Morgana. They were tired, sore, and hot. With each skeleton that showed up and they fended off, it only got worse. After the latest bout with yet another pack, Olga called out, “Stop.” Ren and Morgana looked up to see the Director marching up to them, her sharp eyes impatient. Morgana once more bristled as Ren glared at her, but this time she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she thrust a hand forward and… laid it on Ren’s forehead. Her frown deepened but it wasn’t out of anger. “You’re not used to utilizing magic circuits, are you?” she asked rhetorically. She looked about, then pointed to the ruins of a church. “We’re resting there. Neither of you are to use any magecraft until you’ve recovered, understood?”

Under normal circumstances neither of them would listen to her orders, but this one was a sensible one at least. They made their way to the church, where Ren and Morgana collapsed against a wall and Mash huddled nearby with her shield. Olga scoured through the ruins looking for something, then came across her target: cups. Her own magic circuits warming again, she muttered an aria that cleaned whatever filth had gotten on them, then filled them with water, drawing whatever moisture was in the air and putting it in a cup. They were simple mysteries that just about anyone with a rudimentary education from the Clock Tower could do.

She passed the cups of water to each person. Mash quietly thanked her, with Ren and Morgana both looking at her in surprise before taking their own cups. Morgana lapped at his own cup while Ren slowly sipped his, allowing the cool water to trickle down and soothe his parched throat. He hadn’t even realized how warm he was until he took the drink. Olga herself sat down in front of them, drinking a mouthful of her own water. She gave the two a critical look, then sighed. “You two don’t know anything about magic circuits – or crests – do you?”

Ren glared at her, then shook his head. Much as he wanted to snap back at her, she had a point. This gift of Igor’s wasn’t something he was familiar with at all, and unlike Personas, it ran the risk of killing him. He was grateful he at least had his power to fight, but it was clear it came with costs. Olga sighed deeply and ran a hand through her white hair. “This is why I didn’t want civilians getting involved in the first place,” she grumbled before looking up at the two.

“Right, I’ll give you the brief version,” she stated. “Magical circuits are a pseudo-nervous system designed to convert your life force into magical energy and allows you to access the Greater Magic Formulae – in laymen’s terms, it allows you to use magecraft and mysteries – what most people call spells. Like how everyone’s born with a stomach or a heart or what have you, you are born with a set number of magical circuits. Not everyone gets them, however, and magical lineages came about not only to guarantee them, but to also increase the quantity and quality of them with each passing generation. You can’t change the number of circuits you have – not easily – and you certainly don’t just get them out of nowhere.” Olga pinched her nose after that last statement to rein her temper back in. She took a deep breath, then continued. “Circuits are comparable to organs. They need to be utilized and exercised to strengthen them, but more importantly, like the muscles in your body, they can be overworked. Have you noticed yourself heating up, feeling more exhausted or sore than you typically are? That’s the effect of utilizing your magic circuits.”

“Magic crests, on the other hand, are circuits that have a magus has archived spells into. They are hereditary, passing usually from family member to family member, as they each forge some of their circuits into the crest,” she explained. She channeled prana throughout her body, focusing on her own crest – a magic circle that glowed on her forehead. Olga pointed to it in indication. “With this, you can cast any spell that has been recorded into it, even if you didn’t learn it yourself. From what I can tell, you use your crest to utilize your… summoning mystery. A mystery that I’ve never seen or even heard of before nor ever seen one that potent and how exactly DO YOU GET SUCH A CREST OUT OF-!” Once more, she had to restrain her temper, cutting herself off with a deeply annoyed grunt and lots of under the breath grumblings.

Both Ren and Morgana listened attentively. While neither of them particularly liked the Director, what she was saying made sense. Lavenza had emphasized that these magic circuits and crest were both a blessing and a curse. They easily could see what that meant. They just had to practice and train with it until they grew more familiar with them and their limitations. Just like when they were utilizing Personas again, only this time much deadlier. And with the fate of the world and humanity at stake. No pressure.

Once she calmed down, Olga glared at the two once more. “One last thing – as of right now, only I, Mash, and Archaman know of your magic circuits and crest,” she growled. “If you value your life, do not tell anyone outside of Chaldea of your circuits and crest. I will make everyone else sign a geis if it ensures their silence. If you do, you’ll almost certainly receive a Sealing Designation.” She paused, then closed her eyes in frustration. “Right. You don’t know what a Sealing Designation is. To put it simply, they’ll capture you, hold you captive, and dissect you to see how you gained them in the first place, as well as figure out your unique mysteries. If you’re lucky, you’ll be dead when they do so. But they may just keep you alive to see how you work.”

Both Ren and Morgana paled (well, Morgana was harder to tell with his fur but his eyes widening was sign enough) at the information. Ren immediately thought back to Igor’s warning about not letting any other mage know about the Velvet Room. Now he could see why. If mages had this much of a disregard for human life and would quickly resort to dissection and human experimentation, then there was no telling to what ends they would go to know more. They both nodded at the information.

Still, it was like Roman said. Olga didn’t seem like a bad person. Just a person at the wrong time and the wrong place. She was trying to help them.

Ren looked over at Mash, who was huddled in the corner, keeping to herself. “Mash? Are you alright?” he asked, looking over at her in concern. Maybe she was wounded or something? But the Director had been taking care of any accumulated injuries. Was it something else?

Mash shook her head. “No, senpai, it’s…” She hesitated. “The heroic spirit that merged with me. I don’t know his True Name, and I don’t know his Noble Phantasm. I’m sorry I’m so useless.”

Ren blinked. True Name? Noble Phantasm? Seeing Ren’s confusion, Olga once more jumped into lecture mode. “Every heroic spirit has a True Name,” she explained. “A Servant is summoned under one of seven classes: Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker. They typically go by their class names because if their actual names were revealed, you would know their weakness. For example, if I told you a Servant was, say, Achilles, what weakness do you think he would have?”

The answer came immediately. “His heel, right?”

Olga nodded. “Exactly. Hence why any Master avoids using their Servant’s true name as much as possible. As for Noble Phantasms, they are the crystallization of the heroic spirit’s legend. Think of it as something that defined their life or their legend. For example, if I say King Arthur, what’s the thing you would immediately think of?”

Again, the answer came immediately. “Excalibur?”

“Right again. A Noble Phantasm is just as indicative of a Servant’s identity as it is their name, and in this case is their trump card. Once used, you might as well use a foghorn to announce who your Servant is and leave them easy pickings since Noble Phantasms often eat up a lot of prana.” She turned to look over at Mash, her gaze sympathetic. “Don’t worry Mash. We didn’t expect a demi-Servant merging to go perfectly. As soon as we get out of here, we’ll have you contracted with a proper Master. With one, we should be able to find out the heroic spirit’s true name and Noble Phantasm soon enough.”

“Oh? No Noble Phantasm? It must be my lucky day then.”

All four of them started as a voice echoed throughout the ruins. Perched on a broken beam was a woman wearing a cloak. While most of her face wasn’t visible, her smirk was could be seen in the dim light of the nearby fires. There was a rattle of chains as her hands shifted, revealing a long, sharp spike. Though her clothes were short, skintight, and alluring, Ren could practically feel the danger radiate off of her. The watch beeped as Roman’s panicked voice came through. “Guys, watch out! This isn’t just some skeleton or monster! That’s a Servant!”

The Servant’s smirk widened as the fear grew. “Ah, and here I was hoping to surprise you all. No matter. All the Masters in this place are dead, and there are no humans to take prana from. You’ll be my first meal in a while.” She licked her lips as she held up the spike. “Don’t worry – I’ll make this quick. Or perhaps I’ll play with you instead. It has been a while since I’ve had some entertainment…”

With that, she launched herself at speeds that Ren had beforehand never seen before. Mash raised her shield and the Servant’s spikes crashed into them with resounding force, causing a shockwave to radiate out into the air as she slid back a couple feet. “Oh, not too bad, little girl!” she called over in mock admiration. “I think you’ll be fun to play around with. But first…” She vanished into thin air and reappeared right behind Olga, spike raised. “A snack,” she remarked with a grin.

“Zorro!” Morgana called out. A large, top-heavy musketeer with a confident grin appeared behind Morgana in an explosion of blue flames. A large boxing glove mounted on a spring appeared in midair. Zorro pointed with his rapier and the boxing glove punched. The Servant raised her spikes to block it, sending her flying away. Morgana scowled as he raised his rusty sword once more. He was capable and clever, he knew that much, but even he knew at first glance that he was outmatched a thousand times over.

“My, what an interesting power,” the Servant remarked with a grin. “I would almost consider it on par of a low-level heroic spirit. Almost. But that won’t be enough to defeat me-“ Her words were interrupted by a gout of darkness erupting from the ground near her foot. Her grin turned into a scowl as she jumped away when –

“Mash, now!”

Suddenly a huge metal shield slammed into her side, sending her crashing into a nearby wall. Before she could recover, a gust of wind blew over, cutting her up. With a scream of frustration and pain, she jumped up into the air. Her wounds weeping with blood and her expression feral, she had had enough of these humans. She was about to leap down on that accursed girl with the shield, when a flash of blue flames and red clothes appeared just out of her peripheral vision, and she was slammed down into the ground. Before she could recover, Mash charged up, and with a wild cry, lifted her shield and smashed it down on her head. The Servant stopped moving at once, dissolving into golden light.

Mash, Ren, and Morgana panted, catching their breath, with the latter two adjusting to once more utilizing their magic circuits. They both felt warmer and tired, but not unduly so. They just needed to pace themselves more. But… that was a Servant. It was supposed to be a spirit, but it lived, breathed, and talked like a person. A sadistic, bloodthirsty one, yes, but a person nevertheless. When the Phantom Thieves came about, they had sworn that they would never kill. Their objective was to expose the crimes of those who stood too high above everyone else, not exact vengeance or carve a path of blood for their justice.

Before they could ruminate more, however, another ping from the watch came through. “Guys, I’m detecting more Servants coming your way! That first Servant must have attracted their attention!” Roman called out. “Get out of there, now!”

That snapped all of them out of their reverie. “Come on, get moving!” Morgana shouted, immediately taking off with his feet moving so fast they almost blurred into circles. Ren immediately ran after him, followed by Olga with Mash keeping a rearguard. They just made it back to the Fuyuki Bridge when suddenly leaped down from above – a gaunt-looking person, covered in shadow, perched on one of the cars, staring right at them. They turned around, but before they could run, another shadow-covered figure appeared. Standing tall and broad, he held a naginata in his hand with multiple more on his back.

The four grouped up. Mash scowled. She could fight off one Servant here, but that would leave the other free impunity to attack everyone else. Ren and Morgana looked between the two. They were surrounded once more, but unlike with those skeletons, there wasn’t an easy way to break out. Not with two incredibly strong opponents here. They could still use their Personas, but how much could they use them before burning through all their energy? Not for the last time did Ren and Morgana curse they didn’t have any Metaverse tools with them to help them out here.

Then before any of them could act, a swarm of fireballs flew through the air and crashed into the naginata-wielding Servant. The Servant raised his polearm to block the flames, but because of the suddenness of the attack, many of them still burned him. Past him was a man with blue hair and robe, wielding a wooden staff. Two white wolves were at his side, snarling and thirsty for blood.

“Yo!” he called out cheerfully with a cocky grin. “Room for one more?”

Chapter Text

There was only a brief pause as anyone just stared at the newcomer – a standoff that was soon broken as the shadowed naginata user turned to fully face the man in blue. Ren immediately took action. “Mona, cover him!” he commanded. “Mash, with me!” Mash blinked with surprise, then nodded as they both turned toward the other man, still skulking on the car.

A beep echoed from the watch as Roman contacted them again. “Data confirmed!” he called out. “The one with the naginata is a Lancer class Servant, and the other is an Assassin class! The latter is considered generally the weakest of the Servant typings, but don’t underestimate it!” Ren nodded in acknowledgement. An Assassin? Well, that’s interesting for sure. As Mash raised her shield to confront her new foe and the Assassin tensed up, ready to spring, Ren smirked as he could only wonder one thing:

Who was better: An Assassin, or a Phantom Thief?

“Oh, you’re leaving this guy to me?” the man in blue asked, a grin splitting his face. “Nice! I’ve got a bone to pick with him anyway!” The shadow Lancer said nothing as it raised its naginata once more to face him. The man’s grin turned vicious. “Hey bastard, you’re in my favorite class. Hope you’re prepared to hold onto it.” The shadowed Lancer said nothing, simply whirling its naginata in preparation to strike – then stumbled as a gust of cutting wind slammed into it from behind.

The shadow Lancer turned to face Morgana, ready to cut him down, only for his original target to call out, “Where are you looking?!” Roots sprung from the ground, wrapping around the shadow Lancer as Morgana charged forward. The shadow Lancer was already tearing through the roots as he leaped over his head, another boxing glove appearing and bashing him on the head, causing the blackened Servant to collapse. Morgana ran to the blue man’s side to stand alongside him.

“Heh, you got moves, kitty cat,” the blue man complimented as he swung his staff once more. Bright orange runes appeared in midair, firing another salvo of fireballs at the Lancer. Morgana took action as well, using Zorro to send yet another gust of wind. It overtook the fireballs, fueling them until they looked like a mass of small meteors hurling toward the shadow Lancer. The hapless Servant barely ripped out of the roots in time to raise his naginata. The first fireball broke the weapon in half, while leaving it helpless as it was soon engulfed in flames.

They both watched attentively and just as they were about to move on to assist the others, the shadow Lancer burst out of the flames, completely immolating, with a sword drawn. The man in blue scowled and jumped back, but not before getting a cut on his shoulder. Before the shadow Lancer could push the attack, Morgana charged in, swinging his sword at the back of its knee as hard as he could. The blade lodged into its leg, causing it to collapse on one knee. The druid charged in before it could get back up, his wooden staff now on fire, and swung hard at its head. The shadow Lancer’s head exploded in a burst of flame and collapsed, dissipating into golden dust as well.

Morgana looked over at his new ally, then blinked at his wound. “Here, lemme get that for you,” Morgana said. Zorro reappeared one more time, drawing a pattern in the air with his rapier. The man in blue glowed green as the wound sealed up. Zorro faded for the last time as Morgana took a heavy breath, feeling the heat coming off his aching body. Okay, yep, he definitely pushed himself a bit harder than he expected.

Meanwhile, the druid looked over at where the wound was, rotating his shoulder to test it, then nodded. “Not bad, cat,” the man in blue complimented, grinning down at Morgana. “Let’s check in on the others, yeah? They’re probably having a harder time with Assassin than we did with Lancer.”

Ren had to admit, this was a lot more difficult than he expected.

The shadow Assassin didn’t bother fighting Mash directly, opting instead to just leap out of the way when she charged with her shield. Instead, it took the far smart and practical option of aiming at Ren, throwing daggers at him with frightening speed. Mash barely managed to get back in time to block the first volley, but as the shadow Assassin simply moved about throwing more daggers, Mash was forced to stay close to Ren to ward them off. With its speed, Ren could barely track where Assassin was going and at times he seemed to just wink out of existence entirely. It wouldn’t be long before Assassin won either by a lucky dagger getting by Mash’s guard or tiring her out, letting it move in for the kill. It might even be an effective tactic if it was any other ordinary person or mage.

Fortunately, Ren was anything but ordinary.

Ren instead relaxed his body, focusing on his vision. The world around him darkened as points of interest became highlighted. The Third Eye was a gift that he had retained ever since the false Igor had given it to him during his past adventures, and it came in handy no small number of times. He hadn’t used it for anything too importantly lately – it saw the most mileage when he used it to find something he lost in his room or just nearby – but in this case, it was the perfect tool. He could track the Assassin now, seeing its movements as a blue blur. Sure, it was still difficult to track, but it was far easier now, his eyes following his every move.

The Assassin seemed to notice that Ren was tracking him too well. It moved faster, throwing more daggers at him. Several made it past Mash’s shield but Ren was able to track the daggers themselves and dodge them. Then the Assassin threw a particularly large flurry, forcing Mash to hold up her shield and obscure their vision. When she lowered her shield, the Assassin was gone. Ren’s mind moved quickly. He hadn’t seen it move to their flanks with his peripheral vision. It didn’t seem to have the sense to retreat. It was going for another attack, most likely. If he were a Phantom Thief and he had to throw an ambush in this situation, he would do so…

“Mash, above us!”

The girl’s eyes widened. She raised her shield on reflex with Ren’s command – and just in the nick of time, as a weight crashed on the shield with Assassin’s daggers grinding against the metal. With a scowl, Ren summoned Arsene once more, his claws lashing out at the Assassin who couldn’t dodge in time as it was knocked off to the ground. It clambered back up and barely dodged as Mash charged at it, but then the spot it landed was engulfed in a geyser of darkness. The Assassin hissed in pain and barely got its bearings when the top of the shield smashed against its head, breaking its mask. The last thing the Assassin saw before the shield descended on him once more was a demon clothed in red and wreathed with blue flame.

Ren breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned up against a ruined car, trying to cool down. Mash looked about with a raised shield before lowering it, relaxing as well. “All enemy combatants defeated,” she stated, smiling over at Ren. “Great work, senpai.” Ren gave Mash a tired grin. It seemed no matter where he turned to here, his Phantom Thief gifts and experience was paying dividends in spades. He would have to thank Igor and Lavenza later. The fact that the Third Eye that allowed him to track Assassin was from the fake Igor was irrelevant.

“What. In the Root. Was that.”

He almost groaned in frustration as Olga stomped up once more. She had basically been cowering as she tried to figure out what she could to or how to contribute in the battle. Before she could decide on anything, it was already over. “You could track down Assassin’s movements… somehow… and you didn’t use reinforcement on your eyes – I checked. What, is that another one of your secret mysteries you got with your crest? Are you going to just… pull out True Magic from your pocket or something at this rate?!”

True Magic? That was an odd term. Wasn’t everything they were doing basically magic anyway? Still, Ren didn’t feel like asking, nor did he exactly feel like humoring her. He merely flashed her a tired smirk. “Nope. Just a little talent of mine,” he replied. It was satisfying watching Olga’s face morph into different colors as she struggled to find a good response to his words. Just because she wasn’t that bad a person overall didn’t mean he would let her off easy for her attitude. He dealt with enough arrogant blowhards throughout his lifetime. Mash could only watch, looking back and forth between the two with wide eyes as if it was some sort of particularly heated tennis match.

Before she could say anything, a voice called out. “Oi! Came to help but looks like you guys got it covered!” The three looked over to see both the man in blue and Morgana sauntering toward them. Morgana looked a bit more exhausted but fine as always while the man just had an easy grin on his face. “You kids are pretty damn capable, nice work. Especially you two,” he nodded at Ren and Morgana. “Dunno what kind of magecraft that was but can’t say it’s not useful as hell. And you too, shield girl! I can’t tell what class you are, but you know how to take a hit! Moves are a bit sloppy though.”

Mash blushed a bit and bowed at the newcomer. “I’m inexperienced but thank you for the compliment!” she stammered out.

That only caused the druid to laugh in turn. “Ah, lighten up, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” he replied, waving off her apology. Then he raised an eyebrow as Olga glared at him.

“Look, thank you for your help, but we don’t know who you are and why we should trust you,” she said, trying to glare down the new Servant. “For all we know, you could be trying to get us to lower our guards before attacking us from behind. What class are you and what are your goals?”

The man in blue sighed and walked forward with a deadpan expression. Everyone tensed up, ready at a moment’s notice to strike. He raised his hand… and flicked Olga in the forehead, causing her to flinch and cradle the spot, glaring speechlessly at him in shock. “Calm down, girlie, I’m not here for anything devastating like that, else we wouldn’t be talking in the first place,” he replied, speaking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, I’m a Caster. Was supposed to be the Caster of this Holy Grail War, but honestly everything’s gone to shit – City was suddenly engulfed in flames and all the humans, Masters included, just vanished. The Saber here went nuts and has been going around killing all the other Servants, who come back corrupted by the black mud. So like that Lancer and Assassin.” He pointed at the two spots where the shadow Servants had been to emphasize his point. “I’m the last Servant remaining in the Holy Grail War that she has to kill. And I’ll tell you this much – she’s bad news. You really don’t want her to win.”

Caster then looked over at the group. “But still, what are you lot doing here? You’re the only humans I’ve seen here in a while, and with that kind of magecraft you’re packing, as well as a Servant, no way I wouldn’t have known about you sooner.”

Ren, Mash, and Morgana looked at each other as Olga processed the information. Olga sighed and took it upon herself to explain the whole situation: Their mission, the Singularities, and how they were looking for the source here before they were attacked by the shadow Servants. Caster rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered his options.

“Well, we just took down Lancer and Assassin,” he pondered. “And from the description, you also took down Rider as well. That leaves Saber, Archer, and Berserker left.” He shrugged. “Well, that makes our job easier, but not by much. Archer guards Saber and is a real piece of work. Saber is another matter altogether. And Berserker….” He shuddered. “You don’t want to fight him. So long as we don’t enter his territory, we should be okay. But otherwise, nope.” Ren and Morgana blinked in surprise at Caster’s judgement. Caster gave off a kind of cool confidence that was more than reassuring, but if even he suggested not dealing with Berserker, they would take his word for it.

Caster grinned once more. “Alright, I think I know the solution here.” That perked up everyone, eager for information. “The cause of the Singularity is most likely the Greater Grail. Thing’s been pouring out malevolent prana this whole time, with Saber watching over it like a baby. We deal with that and Saber, we’ll probably fix this mess. So, with that in mind, how about you make a temporary contract with me? I wanna just deal with this so I don’t have to continue being hunted down, and you guys want this whole situation fixed. It’s a win-win! Though…” He looked between Olga, Ren, and Morgana. He first turned to Olga. “Sorry. You got a lotta great circuits – high quality ones too – but no aptitude for a Master. There’s gotta be some sort of irony there…” Olga could only turn away, angry and disappointed.

That left Ren and Morgana. “Hm, you seem like a capable Master,” he commented, looking over at Ren. “But you’re burning through prana both with your magecraft and supporting the girl there.” He pointed at Mash. He looked over at Morgana. “And you, kitty cat. Hm, got a good amount of magic to ya, aptitude to be a Master, and we work together pretty well. How about it? Wanna be my Master for a bit?”

Morgana bristled. “Stop calling me a ‘kitty cat’. My name is Morgana!” he growled out, glaring up at Caster who simply raised his hands in surrender, still grinning. That done, he sighed. “Fine, we can make the contract. I’m curious about this Master business anyway.” Caster grinned and tapped his staff on the ground. Red seals appeared on the back of Morgana’s front paw, taking the shape of… a cat. “Ugh, couldn’t the design be a bit more original…” he grumbled. Discarding the thought, he looked back up at Caster. “Anyway, what’s your name? Gotta know if we wanna know you're capable of.”

Caster nodded and grinned. “Fair enough, kitty – er, Morgana. The name’s Cu Chulainn. It’s not my main class, but I’m still pretty damn powerful with it, rune work and all!” Then he noticed Ren just staring at him after he made his introduction. “What, got a problem with that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Got something on my face?”

Ren blinked. “Ah, no, just…” He thought back to the Cu Chulain he knew back from his adventures. There were definitely a lot of differences between that one and the one standing in front of him, but one of the biggest ones was… “I thought you would be wielding a spear or something.”

The druid blinked several times, then laughed uproariously and patted Ren hard on the shoulder, who winced at the strength of the Servant. “Haha! You, I like you!” he declared. “You know what it’s all about! That’s right, I’m strongest as a Lancer, not a Caster! I’m great with magic and runes, sure, but with a spear in hand, I’m almost unstoppable! But here I am, stuck with Caster. Sheesh, if I had my spear, I probably could’ve easily taken out half the War’s Servants by myself, even after hell dropped on our heads.” He grumbled as Ren and Morgana just looked, nonplussed. Still, that did explain why he seemed to have a grudge against the shadow Lancer.

“If you all are quite done,” Olga snapped, her arms crossed and looking more irritated than ever (and certainly NOT because a damn cat had a better aptitude to be a Master than her, how the hell was that even fair?!). “Caster, where is this Greater Grail?”

Cu jerked a thumb in the general direction. “Over by the temple thataway,” he casually responded. “We’re gonna have to take the northern path though – it’s a bit longer, but it beats having to deal with Berserker. He’s over to the south.” There were no arguments on that plan. They took Caster’s advice about Berserker to heart and began trekking through the ruins. True to form, the only foes that opposed them were skeletons. There was no sign of Berserker, Archer, or Saber. All of them were in their designated places, after all. But as they marched, Mash looked more and more despondent and anxious.

Ren, noticing, pulled up alongside her. “Something the matter, Mash?” he asked.

The girl shook her head. “It’s nothing, senpai. Just…” She took a deep breath. “We’re about to fight some incredibly strong enemy Servants, right?” Ren nodded. “I still don’t have my heroic spirit’s true name or Noble Phantasm. I don’t even know how to use a Noble Phantasm. I’m… I’m worried that I’ll just be a burden and we won’t be able to win because of it.” Ren frowned. True. It sounded like a rather dangerous battle. Even before stealing any Treasures or going up against their greatest foes, Ren made sure his entire team was ready to go – supplies, powers, everything. They were all as strong as they could be when they went in. But here, he wasn’t sure how to go about things.

Meanwhile, Cu looked over. “What, no Noble Phantasm, girlie?” he asked in surprise. He rubbed his chin in thought. “And no true name either.” He considered it, then sighed. “Well, no time like the present then. Skeletons aren’t gonna do the job here, so I’m guessing I’ll have to.” As he talked, he walked away to stand a small distance apart from the group. Everyone else looked at each other, confused.

“Caster, what nonsense are you speaking?” Olga snapped.

The man smirked. “Well, isn’t that obvious? We don’t have much time to find out what her Noble Phantasm is, and besides, she’s overthinking it. It comes from the instinct, the feeling! A Noble Phantasm is part of a Servant, like how an arm is a part of you! You get it, right?”

Ren and Morgana were about to protest – then froze. How Caster said it made it sound like an Awakening. When they were pushed to a corner, they were forced to evaluate what they ultimately wanted, their deepest instincts. And at that moment, everything exploded, culminating in tearing off their masks to unveil their true power. Was this the same? It sounded utterly absurd, but… frankly, from their adventures in the Metaverse to everything that happened in Chaldea, ‘absurd’ seemed to be the new normal at this point. Caster noted their reactions and slowly nodded with a grin. “Finally, some people who understand. You two aren’t greenhorns, are you?”

Olga, in contrast, was having none of it. “Absolutely not, Caster,” she snapped. “We’re not about to try some hairbrained experiment that might get Mash – or any of us – hurt. We can’t spare the resources. Morgana, use your command seal and get Caster to stop.” Nobody moved or reacted. She turned to glare at Morgana. “I gave you an order – use your command seal! Get Caster to stop!”

Morgana took a breath, then crossed his arms. “Sorry, Director,” he replied solemnly. “I’m with Caster on this one. Sometimes, the only way to make any progress is with extreme methods. I’ll heal you guys if it becomes too intense but otherwise, I’m not interfering.”

Cu grinned and nodded. “Heh, knew you were my Master for a reason!” He raised his staff, his grin turning predatory as he faced Mash and Ren. “Just so you know though, girl, I’m not gonna hold back. I’ll be aiming for your Master with all I got. Servant and Master are bound together after all – if one goes down, the other does too.” He looked at Ren specifically. “Oi, kid, I know you got some crazy magecraft but you sit your ass down! This is the girl’s fight! Not yours! If you do anything, she’s not gonna learn or grow! No true names, no Noble Phantasms, nothing! You’re her Master, right? Then act like one and let the Servants do the fighting!”

Mash gaped at Cu Chulainn. A powerful Servant stood in front of her. She could practically feel the power radiating off him. This wasn’t like those shadow Servants before – this was a bonafide hero from legend. He had spells and power that was versatile and powerful. She didn’t have anything. She was a mere demi-Servant at most – barely qualifying as one. She didn’t have her Noble Phantasm. She didn’t know the spirit’s true name. Thinking about it logically, she stood no chance. What if she faltered? What if she failed? What if-

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. She looked over in surprise at Ren. His smile was soft and his grey eyes were kind. Up until now, they seemed to be either mischievous or deadly serious, depending on the situation. But this was a different Ren she saw now, and she felt a bit of heat coming to her face. This was someone who fully trusted her in this upcoming battle. Not just that, but that she would also win, like it was an inevitability. Where did that confidence come from? Could she perhaps borrow some of it? “I trust you, Mash,” he murmured, his voice warm and encouraging. “You can do this.”

The young Shielder blinked, then her eyes narrowed into determination. “Yes, senpai. Please stand back – I’ll protect you with all my might.” Ren’s smile grew a bit as he moved back. Mash Kyrielight stepped forward, lifting up her shield. She settled into a combat stance, ready for anything.

Cu grinned over at her. “Ah, there’s a look I like!” he complimented. “Guess this won’t be so boring after all! Get ready!” With that, he swung his staff, creating multiple runes that fired a salvo of fireballs straight at her. Mash charged forward, lifting her shield. The fireballs crashed against the metal with resounding explosions. The impacts were heavy, but she pushed through anyway. They were nothing! Crossing the distance to Cu, she swung her shield at the Caster, who dodged and jabbed out with his staff into her side. She gasped in pain as she slid away but shut out the pain as she charged again.

The two Servants danced around the clearing, Cu Chulainn bombarding her with fireballs, trapping her in place with roots, or flanking her with wolves. Mash pushed through all of it, as hard as she could. She weathered storms of fireballs, tore through or dodged past roots, and knocked the wolves away with strong shield slams. Despite Cu’s threat against Ren, he didn’t really try to send attacks his way, trying to goad Mash into using more and more of her energy. As Mash fought her movements became slower and more sluggish, but that determined gaze of her never wavered as she tried kept trying to cross the distance between the two to land a hit.

Finally, Mash was left panting, using the shield for her support, bruised and burned in multiple places but still keeping a wary eye on Cu. The Caster, on the other hand, got a number of bruises from Mash’s shield swings but otherwise wasn’t hurt. Cu sighed. “Well, we took this as far as we can go by the normal method,” he said, resigned. “Guess I gotta pull out the big guns.” He whirled his staff as his power exploded, prana pouring out through the area. Ren, Morgana, and Olga raised their arms to block off the air pressure from the power while Mash’s eyes widened as she gripped her shield more tightly. A magic circle appeared underneath Cu as he fixed a deathly serious stare. “Either you deal with this, or I kill you,” he growled.

He whirled his staff as suddenly, the area around him burst into fire, the heat going from uncomfortably warm to overwhelmingly fierce. “Burn them completely, giant of all trees.” He intoned. With a loud sound of creaking and crashing, a gigantic wooden figure emerged from the conflagration. Bathed in infernal might, its sheer presence dwarfed everyone. This was Caster’s full power made manifest, this behemoth of wood and flame.

“WICKER MAN!”

The power of the Noble Phantasm was beyond what most of them had experienced. Olga let out a faint involuntary whimper as she stared up at it, her mind gone completely blank, unable to think of any magecraft to protect herself or even flee. For Ren and Morgana, the last time they felt this heavy a presence was when they faced Shido atop his golden lion of the masses. Powerful, yes, but they had experienced this before. They held their ground and looked over at Mash.

Mash could only stare up at the titanic figure. The power it radiated threatened to topple her like a house of cards. She involuntarily took a step back as it leaned forward, drawing back its arm. The flames around it kindled higher, scorching the sky. They were going to die. They were going to die, and it was going to be her –

She turned to look and saw them still there. Olga was petrified, but Ren and Morgana hadn’t fled. They were simply looking at her. There weren’t any expectations, nor desperation, nor fear. Ren’s gaze especially. They were cool, calm and understanding. Whatever she wished to do, he would support her. He wouldn’t run away or give in to panic. There was no reason to. After all, he trusted her.

Even everything that had happened, he trusted her.

At that, Mash gripped her shield tighter. Her master, her senpai was giving his utmost trust in her. He wasn’t afraid because he knew she would pull through no matter what. He didn’t flee because he believed in her ability. In her strength as a Servant. True name or Noble Phantasm be damned. She was Mash Kyrielight. She was a Servant. And with her shield, she would protect them. She would protect Olga. Morgana. She would protect Ren.

She would protect everyone.

Racing forward, she placed herself between the Noble Phantasm and the group. She raised her shield and braced for impact. No matter what was thrown at her, she would hold fast and protect them, no matter what. She felt a surge of power that only rose to match her determination. She would hold. She was unassailable, unbreakable. For those who were behind her shield, she wouldn’t yield to any power less than fate itself. Her shield was her strength, her might. The weight behind the shield was heavy as the Noble Phantasm rammed against it with all its strength, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She stood firm, bracing herself against the storm of flame and wood, power raging all around her and –

It was over.

She blinked as she lowered her shield. She barely noticed the light fading away from the front of her shield as her strength gave out. The power was drained out of her but somehow she felt more satisfied, more… complete. Like she rammed through a wall and was granted power as a prize. Cu grinned happily as he lowered his staff. “Congrats, girl! That’s your Noble Phantasm!” he called out. “And I gotta say, that’s a damn good one! So, what’s its name?”

Its… name?

Mash thought back, hoping the name came instinctively, but… nothing. She shook her head. Olga’s and Cu’s expressions fell into shock. “No…. no name?” Olga stammered. “You used a Noble Phantasm, and yet you don’t have a name for it?” Mash again shook her head. Olga sighed. “Well, at the very least, it’s something. For now, we’ll name it Lord Chaldeas. You’ll be our bulwark and sentinel, Mash. We’ll all be counting on you.”

Lord Chaldeas… Mash felt the name on her tongue. Warmth bloomed from her heart as a smile spread across her lips. Yes. That was a good name. It was strong. She would be a solid wall, protecting those behind her with her shield. She still didn’t have the full strength of the Noble Phantasm, not yet, but it would come. She knew it would.

Especially as Ren walked over and offered her a hand up. His smile was proud and radiant, his eyes gleaming with happiness. The warmth spread to her face and her smile only grew as she took his hand.

Her Master trusted her, after all.

Chapter Text

A few quick heals from Morgana and a break later, the group was back on the way. Mash spent her time discussing being a Servant with Cu, who happily answered what questions she had: How to fight one, what to expect from them, Noble Phantasms, her duty to protect her Master (she seemed to be particularly animated with this particular series of questions), and more. Olga kept giving him the stink-eye for that whole debacle, even though it worked out in the end. There were some occasional skeleton attacks, but compared to the shadow Servants and Cu himself, they were almost literally a breeze in comparison.

Meanwhile, Ren and Morgana hung back a bit, just listening and observing. This felt both familiar and unfamiliar. At times, they felt like they were back in a Palace again: Their footsteps felt floaty against the ground which rippled, a faint swish of a coattail as he moved, expecting shadows to come out of any corner as both Ren and Morgana reflexively looked for any hiding spot to crouch or hide behind, surveying their movements. Then a few steps later, they were back in the Singularity, where their feet crunched on the concrete rubble, their bodies were slower than they’d like, and the oppressive heat from the constant fires bearing down on them.

At least they had a way out back with Palaces where they could leave at any time and prepare or rest as necessary. Here… it was either they succeed, or they died. No two ways about it.

As they walked, they heard a loud, bestial roar in the distance. Everyone besides Cu tensed up. It sounded human yet not at the same time – an expression of pure feral rage that wanted to tear everything into pieces. “That would be Berserker,” Cu explained, unimpressed. “Just from that, I’m guessing you guys can see why we’re not going anywhere near there.” Everyone else nodded fervently. They wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever the hell was behind that noise. At Olga’s insistence, they made for a wider path around Berserker’s territory. It would take longer but there was no argument. Better a longer trip than a shorter trip with a higher change of getting torn to shreds.

As they made their way up the stairs of the temple, Cu quietly raised his staff. Ren was the first to notice. “Mash, keep your guard up,” he murmured. Mash blinked, then nodded, summoning and raising her shield as well. Morgana had already hefted his sword over his shoulder in preparation. Olga just blinked in surprise at how everyone immediately got into position. As they reached the top, at the ruined gates was another Servant, completely blurred in darkness. It lifted its head to regard them. “Oh? Sorry, but we’re not taking any visitors today,” it said, standing up from where it sat.

Cu huffed. “Obnoxious as always, Archer. Still acting as the guard dog for Saber?” he asked scornfully. “The hell you protecting her for anyway? Even if she actually deserved it, pretty damn sure she can take care of herself, you know.”

“A dog calling another a guard dog? Takes one to know one, I guess,” it drawled. “Really, I’m surprised you lasted this long, but them you’ve always been an extraordinarily tenacious one. About all you’re good for though.” It turned to the others. “Hm, and I see you’ve brought others along. I’ll give you this, at least you’re smart enough to bring allies. Not that’ll do you any good.”

“Well, a game that never ends is boring as hell,” Cu replied. “I figure I might as well make my move now rather than wait and get hunted down sooner or later. This seemed a good a time as any. Now, you gonna move aside, or are we gonna get to the fight already?”

The shadow Archer scoffed as two short blades appeared in his hand. “Like you’re one to talk. I know you’re always itching to fight – your last mistake here.” With that, it threw its blades at them. The curved blades spun like buzzsaws, whirling through the air dangerously. Cu summoned fireballs and intercepted them, only for two more pairs to whirl around their flanks, seeking their targets. Mash moved into position to block one pair while Morgana used Zorro to blow another off course.

As they did so, Cu summoned up the white wolves again that lunged at the shadow Archer before he could fling even more blades. It quickly summoned another pair of twin blades, slashing through one wolf, though it was too slow to prevent the second one from clamping its jaws down on his arm. It let out a ‘tsk’ from annoyance and raised its free blade to cut it down when Arsene appeared and slashed at its other arm.

Outnumbered, it quickly jumped back to get some distance from the other Servants and Masters, finally cutting away the wolf as the others raced to catch up. It dodged roots bursting from the ground as it summoned a bow. Summoning another sword, it narrowed and lengthened into an impromptu arrow. The shadow archer nocked it, took aim, and fired. Mash rushed to the front, holding up her shield as the sword arrow burst in a prana explosion, buffeting the air around her. Through the smoke, more fireballs flew through the smoke, forcing the shadow Archer to dodge yet again.

It summoned yet another pair of twin blades and twisted around to barely block Arsene who had appeared behind it. The shadow Archer’s instincts prickled as it looked over at the group assaulting its position. It gathered what information it could in a single glance: Caster had summoned another pair of wolves to attack and was preparing another spell. The Servant with the shield was staying near the others to block any attacks. There were two humans. The white-haired girl had no Command Seals which meant she wasn’t a Master. That left the boy who, although prepared to move, wasn’t reacting with fear or worry. He was calm, calculating his next move. And more importantly, it could see the circuits burning through him.

As it leaped away from both the new red-clothed demon creature and the wolves, it prepared for a new assault – only to trip as a gust of wind blasted out its footing from underneath. The source was… a grinning musketeer? Where did THAT come from? It had the same blue flames wreathed around it as the demon earlier. The shadow Archer glanced at the group again and now saw… a cat? Or catlike… thing? A small thing it must’ve missed then it looked over at them for the first time.

It had to blink once or twice. Did it seriously miss the creature just because it didn’t look down? But more importantly, it caught a glimpse of red seals on the back of its hand. Paw. Whatever. That catlike thing was a Master as well?

So caught off guard that it only barely noticed the swarm of fireballs belting down. It barely deflected them with a new set of blades before its face made the acquaintance of the girl’s shield, sending him crashing into a wall. Dazed, it couldn’t get up in time before roots sprang up to entangle and tie it down, which slowed it long enough for the shield girl to come up and bash it to kingdom come. A glance at the shield told it all it needed to know about its origins, and it had to give a humorless chuckle at the sheer irony.

“I’m sorry, King of Knights….”

As the shadow Archer dissipated into golden light like its compatriots, Cu lowered his staff, blinking. “Huh,” he said, a bit nonplussed. “Gonna be honest, I kinda expected a harder fight than that. He’s normally a damn tricky bastard.” He glanced over at Morgana. “He was staring at you pretty hard though. Think he was too caught off-guard by you? I’m not sure if he saw you the first time.” Morgana just drooped in resignation. Although he was probably the biggest reason why that shadow Archer was defeated, he preferred it if it was with his combat ability rather than his appearance. It was another obstacle gone, sure, but he certainly didn’t feel like he won.

Mash came back over. “Caster, the shadow Archer mentioned a ‘King of Knights’? Do you know who that is?” she asked.

Cu’s eyes widened at that title, then closed and rubbed them with his fingers in frustration. “Well, that explains a whole fucking lot,” he grumbled. “No wonder why she was dominating all the other Servants.” That just left everyone else blinking and increasingly worried. The Caster looked back up at all of them, his expression deadpan. “The King of Knights is a title that belongs to only one person: The wielder of Excalibur and head of the Round Table – King Arthur. As far as Sabers go, she’s probably one of the strongest in the class, and the Saber class is already damn powerful as is. So suffice to say, we got our work cut out for us.”

Everyone paled at the information. Even people on the other side of the planet knew the legends of King Arthur and his Round Table. When it came to the image of chivalry and knighthood, they were literally the ones anyone would think about. And Excalibur was well known as THE legendary sword in any form of fiction, owing back to its origins as King Arthur’s blade. If such a famed hero stood in their way, then Cu’s frustration was more than justified. They would have to make plans to take her down accordingly.

Wait.

Ren paused, then looked back up at Cu. “Wait, King Arthur, right?” Cu nodded. “The English one, right?” He nodded again. Welsh, but close enough anyway. “… She? Her?”

Cu sighed and waved it off. “Don’t question it, kid, save yourself the headache,” he responded wearily. “Long story short, don’t put too much faith in whatever you read or studied before. It’s good reference and it’s mostly correct, but there’s certain details they can get wrong. And before you ask, yes, I’m a guy. THAT, you’re not wrong, at least.” With that, he continued marching forward though not quite as eagerly as before. Everyone else could only look at each other before quickly following him.

“I’m pretty sure the Personas you summon are the recorded gender, though,” Morgana whispered to Ren.

He nodded. “Probably because they’re cognitions – everyone thinks Siegfried and Cu Chulainn are guys for example, so therefore, they’re guys,” he whispered back. Shadows were based on impressions and learned knowledge from the collective unconsciousness. Therefore, whatever the populace believed was their gender would most certainly be the case, whether it was actual fact or fiction. “It’s definitely gonna throw me for a loop if there’s a person or being from legend that’s a different gender than the shadow though.”

Morgana chuckled. “I mean, hey, could be worse,” he remarked with a smirk. “Imagine if we came across Mara.”

Ren immediately shuddered and gagged (drawing an irritated glare from Olga and a concerned glance from Mash). No. No, no, no, and no. He made it a very personal point to never, ever use Mara for anything besides fusions – and tried to avoid crossing his legs or resorting to cover whenever it was executed, or worse, was introduced to a chainsaw. He especially made sure Caroline and Justine never saw his reaction or he would never hear the end of it from those two sadists. Frankly, there should be hard limits on what the collective unconsciousness could dream of. Then again, given Futaba’s tales from the internet, he should be thankful that Mara was probably the worst he had seen so far. And then there was the time they faced off a Mara thanks to one of the Mementos’ requests….

“Ew, ew, ew, EW, why does his shadow look like THAT?!?” Ann screamed as she pointed at their large, phallic-shaped opponent. Its stubby hands waved through their air as it rested on a golden bladed cart. It was made only worse as it casted Tarukaja on itself, then lowered its ‘head’ and charged at them. “And why does it even move like that?!” she screeched as they all dodged aside. “No, no no no. This thing, this CREEP is as bad as Kamoshida! It needs to go down!”

Makoto was speechless for the time, before cracking her knuckles, sending a glare that sent chills down the guys’ spines. “To be so perverse inside and out,” she growled, taking a stance. “If this guy wants to redeem himself, then be my guest – AFTER I’m through with him.”

Haru frowned and hefted her battle axe. “Really, the shape of it is extremely vulgar. I suppose we should cut it down to size first. It’s rather large though – it should be an excellent way to work out our frustrations!” The axe seemed to gleam even brighter as Haru’s smile widened. Ren maintained a stoic face as Ryuji gulped audibly, Yusuke looked away, and Morgana made himself as small as possible – an easy feat given his size.

“Its weakness is WHO GIVES A CRAP?!” Futaba screeched from inside her flying saucer. “I’m throwing ALL the debuffs down on this thing! It looks like it came from a discount hentai! Just kill it! Kill it kill it kill it kill it kill it!!”

Makoto looked over at Joker, who froze at her expression: A serene smile that didn’t match the murderous aura that emanated from her. “Joker, would you, Skull, Fox, and Mona stand aside for a bit? I think we deserve the honor of dealing with this particular request.” Ren didn’t even hesitate – he just nodded rapidly as he did his utmost to keep his poker face. Makoto smiled a bit more wildly before turning back to Mara, and the three female combatants slowly converged on their hapless victim.

The resulting beatdown made all the guys wince. Ryuji unconsciously crossed his legs as Yusuke simply looked away, muttering that while he might be inspired by such brutality, he couldn’t exactly face it either. Ren could’ve sworn the male human cognitions lining up for their subway trains were also shuddering as well.

After that request, there was a silent unanimous decision: Never speak of this again.

“Don’t jinx it, Morgana,” Ren muttered. Morgana just chuckled at his response.

They reached some caves that lay underneath the temple and followed it down. The further and further they went, the more and more oppressive the atmosphere became. Morgana’s fur stood on end at the sheer malevolence that was in the air, and Ren broke into a cold sweat. Olga was trying to maintain a strong front but even she was affected by the power, unconsciously sidling closer to Ren. Mash stayed up front with her shield at the ready as Cu’s expression became graver and graver. Their footsteps echoed through the cavern, magnifying the sound. Combined with the atmosphere and close quarters and it felt increasingly claustrophobic and suffocating. Nobody spoke for fear of arousing whatever lurked here.

Before long, the tunnel opened up into a vast underground chamber. It was mostly flat and empty, save for the giant plateau ahead. And above, massive amounts of corrupted prana was erupting, bathing the entire chamber in an eldritch light. It didn’t take Olga’s degree of magical education to know that whatever that light was, whatever that power, it wasn’t good news in the slightest. So, this was the Greater Grail? They could see why Cu thought it would be the cause of this Singularity. Something so evil could never be a natural phenomenon.

However, the second thing that caught their eye was the solitary figure below. It was looking up at the massive geyser of dark prana, unmoving. A few steps forward and they caught its attention. The figure slowly turned around to face them. She looked like a young woman, beautiful in a cold manner like a finely forged blade. However, her appearance was marred: Her skin was so pale it resembled that of a corpse, matched only by her hair which was a blonde so light it was almost white as well. Her eyes were of sickly yellow, reflecting no emotions whatsoever. She was adorned with black and red armor of a fine make that covered up to the bottom of her chin and jaw.

But what also drew their attention was her sword. Black and red as well, it radiated dark power just from its very existence. It felt tainted, profane and wrong, like a once-pure object now filled with all the curses and malevolence that existed in the world. It was dormant at its master’s command, but should she will it, it would channel every bit of its pure raw power and annihilate anyone and everything in her path. The woman and the sword were one existence: The sword was part of the woman, just as she was part of the sword. Ren and Morgana gulped as Olga quavered. Mash unconsciously brought her shield up a bit further as Cu’s expression remained grave yet neutral, standing his ground.

Any questions of gender were swept aside. The one who stood before them held the aura and grace of a king at war. A king who would stand alone, victorious, on countless battlefields. A king who would cut down any obstacle without the slightest bit of mercy or hesitancy.

This was King Arthur Pendragon.

“You come at last, Caster,” she called out. Despite the bursting dark prana behind her and the sheer size of the chamber, her voice came through loud and clear to everyone. It was cold and sharp like her blade. It didn’t allow for small talk or kinship. Her words were just a formality. No matter what happened, she would cut them down. “The other Servants have returned to the Grail. I was beginning to wonder if I needed to surface and hunt you down myself. I thank you for sparing me the trouble.”

Despite the fear bubbling within him, he forced it down and tempered it with the expectation of a good fight. “Well, you know me, Saber – I’m always itching for a good fight,” he replied, plastering an easy grin and stepping forward. “And hey, with everyone besides Berserker out of the way, you’re the only one left. So how about it – you want me dead, I want you dead. One last dance for the Grail.”

Saber considered, then glanced over at Mash, narrowing her eyes. “You, with the shield,” she demanded. “You seem familiar. Speak. Have we met before?” Mash’s eyes widened, then shook her head. She was utterly certain she had never met King Arthur and would certainly have never forgotten an existence as powerful and profane as hers. She closed her eyes in consideration. “I see. You are someone familiar, yet an existence I’ve not encountered before. Strange… but irrelevant.” She lifted her blade, its power pulsing through the air. All of them shuddered involuntarily. However strong the shadow Servants they fought were, they utterly paled in comparison to this Saber.

“Oi, Masters, stand back,” Cu cautioned. “Let me and the girl handle this.” Ren and Morgana opened their mouths to protest when Cu faced them with a warning glare. “Don’t. You guys got some strong magecraft, sure, but it won’t be enough here. If Saber deems you an enemy combatant, you’ll last as long as a fly in hell. Besides, she’s got high magic resistance – your skills won’t help as much here. Just stay back. Either we win and keep going, or we die and you won’t have anything to worry about anymore.” He tried giving them a reassuring smile at the joke but it ended up looking humorless and grim. The two Persona users hesitated, then backed down though they still looked between the two Servants in concern.

Cu nodded before turning back to Saber. “Don’t let your guard down, girl. Fight like you’ve never fought before,” he warned Mash, raising his staff. “She doesn’t look physically strong but that’s not what’s dangerous about her. It’s the sheer amount of prana that’s being pumped into her. She’s basically got unlimited energy for this battle and ways to convert it into power. You’re gonna have to take point, but I’ll cover you as best I can.”

Mash shuddered, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face, and nodded. Indeed, this was going to be their last battle in this Singularity. Their last obstacle before they could stop everything and restore humanity. She knew that her senpai and Master stood behind her. He believed in her to not falter, so she would trust in belief. She would do everything she could – and then some – to bring victory to them both. She tensed her legs just as Saber tensed hers.

Then they charged.

Ren held a lot of reservations for not being able to jump into the fight with Mash and Cu. He was never the type to sit idly by when someone was risking themselves for him. After all, what good was experience or power if he couldn’t use it to properly help others? And if there was an extraordinarily powerful foe in front of them, then so much the more he needed to step in and fight as well.

Such notions were almost literally blown away as Saber’s first attack landed on Mash’s shield and swept her aside, blasting her into the air. The shockwave of the impact could be felt even from where they stood, and that was just a simple swipe. Both Ren and Morgana could only gape as Olga ducked down, covering her head in terror. Even during their escapades in the Metaverse, it was rare for anything to pack so much raw power, and Saber was barely even trying. Mash skidded on the ground, regaining her footing before launching herself back, trying to cover the distance between them. Cu meanwhile summoned two wolves that raced towards Saber. Two strokes of her blade and the wolves perished without her even slowing in the slightest.

She reached Cu Chulainn, her sword raised, and swung down. The Caster barely managed to dodge the cursed blade before lashing out with his flaming staff at her exposed armpit underneath the breastplate. Saber whirled around and caught it in her gauntleted hand, the wood cracking under her grip as the fires only lightly singed her. With her prey caught, she swept for his neck – to blocked just in time by Mash who forced her shield between the two, catching the blade in a corner of the cross. With a roar, she shoved at Saber who, thanks to her poor position and footing, was forced to give way to Mash’s strength. After a couple feet, she grasped hold of her shield and yanked it to the side, throwing Mash off balance. Before she could capitalize on her new opening, roots once more started ensnaring her. A trivial matter to rip through thanks to her magic resistance, but a split second was all Mash needed to back off, regaining her footing and positioning.

All this happened in a matter of seconds.

It finally sunk in for Ren and Morgana just what precisely a Servant fight was. It was nothing like their battles in the Metaverse. At times desperate struggles, yes, but still controlled, still easy to follow, coordinating their moves and handling each opponent with precision and style. Shadows and Palace Rulers were formidable but they were easy to dissect, had their weaknesses or at least, weaknesses could be made that they could exploit. Sure, it was often a lot more complex than that, but boiling their fighting down, it was straightforward and simplistic.

But a Servant battle was nothing of the sort. It was a clash between myth and legend. Their actions and reactions were faster than any human could feasibly achieve, their power beyond overwhelming. They endured and lasted far longer than any person could, fueled by literal magic. Advantages and disadvantages could appear or vanish within split seconds, intervals that only a Servant’s agility and mental acuity could take advantage of. Both Ren and Morgana watched as Mash and Cu fought desperately, with Ren utilizing his Third Eye to try and gauge some sort of weakness or pattern, but that barely helped. None of them were as fast as the shadow Assassin, but the fighting was far more chaotic as everyone weaved in and out, utilizing team attacks and tactics like a lightning-fast chess game as they took or yielded ground as necessary.

Cu had warned them – their Personas may be on the same level as a Servant (exactly how strong they weren’t sure, nor did they push it now that there was heavy risks), but they themselves weren’t. If they made so much as one careless move, Saber would cut them down in the blink of an eye and they couldn’t do anything about it. But if there’s anything being a Phantom Thief and the shadow Servant battles showed him, sometimes it just took one good opening for them to secure victory… or for them to lose it all. They just needed to be patient and observe…

Morgana was the one who found it first. As Mash once more managed to get just past her guard and shove her shield into her, locking her movements, Cu summoned more vines to bind her before prepping another spell. Before Saber could get out once more or Cu could finish, however, Zorro appeared beside Saber, with the boxing glove once more appearing. Before she could react, it sprang forward and smashed against her head, knocking her to the ground in a daze.

Ren grinned. “Good work, Morgana,” he commended before charging forward. With that, Saber was surrounded by the four of them, with Olga left behind. Cu scowled at them but couldn’t afford to take his attention off her. Ren, however, was smirking, matched only by Morgana. Now this positioning felt extremely familiar…

Saber blearily blinked up at them. “You think… you think this shall be enough… to defeat me?” she ground out.

The leader of the Phantom Thieves’ grin only grew. “Nope. That was just the setup. Everyone, follow my lead!” Tearing his metaphorical mask off once more, Arsene burst forth with a laugh, clawing and tearing at Saber, sending her up in the air. Morgana came next, Zorro bursting out and sending out gusts of wind with Morgana riding one particular gust and slashing at her. Cu, rapidly getting the gist, sent swarms of fireballs with a mad grin, which pelted her every which way in a fiery inferno. Finally came Mash’s turn. She didn’t have anything like the two humans or Cu, but that wasn’t necessary. Instead, she jumped up, and with a wild cry, smashed the shield down on Saber’s helpless form, destroying her armor as she was sent crashing down, cratering the ground in the process.

Ren and Morgana smirked. “The show’s over,” the former declared.

Saber very slowly staggered up, pieces of her armor falling off her. “I will admit… I was caught off guard…” she breathed. And then she smiled – a sight that made sent chills right down their spines. “But you are right. As you say, the show is indeed over. Now, allow me to draw the curtain.” She held her sword aloft, and suddenly it exploded into a massive channel of dark power. Ren and Morgana’s throat seized up, trying to breathe through the renewed oppressive presence of the blade. The darkness that wrapped around the blade felt infinite in scale and strength – and it would consume them all in pure destruction.

Cu and Mash immediately rallied back to them as Saber raised her blade. The Shielder moved in front of them, reaching for the power she had felt once before. The will to protect those who stood behind her, the confidence that she would stand and protect until the very end, the belief that her Master trusted her shield. She felt power coursing through her and her shield. She knew what she had to do, and she would not fall.

“EXCALIBUR-“

“LORD-“

“-MORGAN!!!”

“-CHALDEAS!!!”

Dark met light as Saber swung her blade, unleashing a torrent of pure and utter destruction, only to collide with the glowing power that issues from Mash’s shield. Darkness poured and spilled around the shield, carving hot furrows and rifts into the ground all around them. Mash grit her teeth as she continued to push. It was heavy – far heavier than Cu’s Noble Phantasm. But she was still here. And so long as she was still here, she would continue to stand, an immovable force to Excalibur Morgan’s irresistible power. Ren and Morgana stood behind her, planning. They had absolute faith that Mash would hold (and if she didn’t, they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway) so they needed a counter.

Morgana looked at Cu. “You, can you use your Noble Phantasm again?” he asked.

The druid shook his head. “Not normally – that fight drained a ton of prana from me. It’ll win us the fight though, so you know what you gotta do – use your command seal when Saber’s done with hers!”

The catlike being nodded. Mash meanwhile was still holding on. Ren was considering using a command seal as well, but he hesitated. Three wasn’t as much as he wanted, and he needed to balance whether Mash could handle it or not. However, her power showed no sign of weakening, nor did any of the assailing power leak through.

Moments that felt like eternity ticked by before finally, power finally began abating. Morgana didn’t waste his chance - he raised his paw. “Caster, by my command seal,” he intoned, the cat tattoo on his paw glowing bright red. “Use your Noble Phantasm to take out Saber!”

Cu grinned as his entire body glowed, the power of the command seal filling him. “You got it, Master!” he roared, whirling his staff as a magic circle appeared once more beneath him before the area exploded into flame. “Burn them complete, giant of all trees,” he once more commanded as the familiar wooden giant rose up once more. Despite all the flames, Ren, Morgana, and Mash didn’t feel any heat whatsoever. And they especially enjoyed being not being on the other end of his Noble Phantasm. Cu’s grin was feral and wild as he pointed his staff at Saber. “WICKER MAN!!!”

The wooden giant stepped forward and raised a fist. Saber, completely drained from the fight, the all-out attack, and finally using Excalibur Morgan, could only feebly raise her sword in defense as it smashed down, engulfing her in an absolute inferno. Saber could only smile as the fire burned away at her body, charring it to cinders before it slowly dissolved to golden dust. Ah, she should’ve known after Archer died. Whenever she stood alone, she would always fail in the end. But falling to two powerful Masters with a good heart, the Child of Light from Ireland, and the girl who felt like one of her greatest knights from ages past…

There were worse fates to meet.

The flames and giant dissipated as Mash lowered her shield, collapsing on her knees. Saber’s Noble Phantasm had carved furrows in the ground, the ground red-hot from the sheer power. Where Saber once stood, there was now a crater filled with nothing but cinder. The swordswoman herself was nowhere to be found. Instead, in her place was left a large golden cup, which even from their distance radiated with power. The dark prana on the plateau vanished, leaving the cave dark and silent.  Teere was no sign of anyone else.

It was finally over.

Cu breathed a sigh of relief… before he started shedding golden dust as well. “Oi, me too?” he asked incredulously.

Morgana looked over, eyes wide. “Wha – you’re going too?!”

The druid nodded, annoyed. “Looks like it,” he confirmed. “Now that you’ve fixed things here, guess I’m not supposed to be here any longer. Well, it was fun all things considered, kitty cat. Sounds like you guys are having a grand adventure. Summon me if you can – I want in. But summon me as a Lancer, damnit! None of this druid bullcrap!”

“Keep calling me ‘kitty cat’ and we might summon you just so I can claw your face off!” Morgana roared. Cu just laughed uproariously and turned to walk away laughing as he finally dissolved into golden dust. With that, the cave was quiet once more.

Ren walked over to Mash and offered her a hand. She smiled with a faint blush as she once more took it, getting back up on her feet. They walked over to the crater, picking up the golden cup. Olga finally came over, looking extraordinarily tired and running a hand through her hair. “Well, it seems the Singularity is resolved,” she muttered. She looked up and saw what Ren was holding, and immediately made a mad dash over to grab it. “Th-th-th-th-this is a Holy Grail!” she stuttered in pure shock. “Wh-wh – THIS was the cause of the Singularity?! Th-This explains so much! Though it’s a bit… weaker than I expected…”

“Yes, it is, and it was meant to be a cornerstone of everything if things went accordingly.”

They all turned at the sound of the voice. There stood a familiar man in his green suit and top hat. “Lev!” Olga cried out, racing towards the man and tackling him in a hug before Ren or Morgana could stop her. “I can’t believe it! You survived!”

Lev chuckled and patted her head. “Indeed I did. I am supposed to, after all. Can’t say the same for the rest of you though – all of you should’ve been perished. Especially you, my dear Olga – I set the bomb right underneath your feet after all.”

Olga could only look up in shock, releasing the man as Ren and Morgana scowled, lowering themselves into combat positions. Mash was shocked as Olga, though she soon recovered herself enough to step forward, raising her shield once more. “Wh-what’s…. what do you mean, L-Lev? What are you talking about?” she stammered.

The man’s face morphed into a ghastly grin as he snapped his fingers. An image appeared in thin air – of CHALDEAS. Instead of the globe all of them had seen before, it was now nothing but a fireball. “Here you are, dedicated to preserving humanity’s future, but you need not fret about it anymore,” he explained, his sadism now dripping from his voice. “For there IS no future. Humanity has been incinerated with nothing remaining. All of you are just the last dregs of a dying breed.” Ren and Morgana felt their hearts plummet. To hear confirmation outside of the Velvet Room was staggering.

They were the only ones left.

“Olga, you especially – you’re not even alive anymore. Haven’t you realized?” Lev’s grin made it clear how much he enjoyed twisting the knife in the girl’s heart. “You had no Rayshift compatibility, so how did you come here? No, your body is back in Chaldea, destroyed. All you are right now are just some residual thoughts. Once you go back, you will cease to exist.”

The Director could only step back in horror, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “No, this… this can’t be. Please, t-tell me it isn’t true, Lev. You…. You wouldn’t do this, right? Why? Why would you?!”

Lev just looked scornfully at Olga, a cruel smile still on his lips. “I don’t think you need to know anymore, ‘Director’. Or rather, there is no point. Your greatest ‘achievement’ now lies in flames and your usefulness is at an end. I’d kill you, but that would be… less tasteful. In fact, I’ll grant you your wish – be with your beloved CHALEAS and incinerated for eternity!”

Olga’s eyes widened as a force began pulling at her toward the image of the fireball, stronger and stronger. Ren’s eyes widened as the girl desperately tried to pull away from her inevitable, eternal torment. His mind raced desperately as he looked for an answer. At the very least, whether she was ‘just’ residual thought or not, he couldn’t let her die-!

Wait. Residual ‘thought’…?

“Olga!” Ren roared out. “Say these words! ‘I am thou, thou art I!’ Declare your identity, and pledge yourself to me! Please, don’t ask questions, we don’t have time!”

Lev scowled. “Meddlesome pest,” he growled. “I hadn’t accounted for you, but do be quiet-“ A gust of wind slammed into Lev, interrupting him. He was left none the worse for wear but he turned to Morgana. “It seems you want to die too, cat,” he spat.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard that a thousand times before,” Morgana retorted before sending more gusts after him to keep Lev distracted.

Olga meanwhile stared at Ren with wide eyes, then looked back at her impending death. Swallowing what pride she had left, she screamed. “I-I AM THOU, THOU ART I!” she screamed. “I AM OLGA MARIE ANIMUSPHERE! I PLEDGE MYSELF TO YOUR SERVICE FROM HERE ON!” Once she spoke those words she was suddenly engulfed in a blue glow which steadily grew brighter, until there was a flash of light. All that remained was a white speck, which flew straight to Ren. Ren caught it and pressed it to his face. As he did so, his mask appeared for a brief moment before fading away to nothing.

Did it work? He cast himself into the depths of his mind, hoping he found what he was looking for.

“Arsene? Where is she?”

There was silence for a bit, then Arsene answered in his deep, confident voice. “She is here, Trickster. I am doing my best to protect her, but we must be swift in her deliverance – she is weak and could be drowned out at any time.”

Ren breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, that worked. It was a long shot, but it worked. He turned back to Lev, who simply waved his hand, dispelling the wind with a deeply irritated scowl. “So, you’ve done something to save that useless fool after all,” he snarled. “It matters little. The Singularity is already collapsing. Hear me, Chaldea – I am Lev Lainur Flauros. Know that humanity’s destruction has already come, and yours is only slightly behind. Your deaths will come soon. Enjoy what time you have left before destruction inevitably arrives for you.” With a cruel grin, he tipped his hat to them before he turned away, fading from existence.

Suddenly, the watch beeped. “Lev’s unfortunately right about one thing: The Singularity is collapsing!” he said desperately. “I’m making an emergency Rayshift! Low chance it’ll work but no other choice! All three of you, group up!” Ren nodded and looked up at the other two. Morgana raced over and hopped onto Ren’s shoulder as Mash clung onto Ren’s arm. As the cave started collapsing around them, the area began getting brighter and brighter. Then everything flashed – and they were no longer there.

The faint piano music. The blue cloth walls. The bunk. Ren was exactly where he needed to be again.

Immediately, he stood up and marched out the open door, where Igor and Lavenza waited for him. He didn’t wait for them to speak. “Guys, please, I need your help,” Ren started.

Igor raised his hand. “My dear guest, I do hope you know what you are asking,” he replied, his voice soft and unchanging. “What you have achieved was rather remarkable, but you do ask for much – only one guest may enter the Velvet Room at a time, and not only is she not a guest and uninvited, she is also a magus.” Though the grin remained on his face, his eyes narrowed slightly. “We have every reason to decline and allow her to fade away and rejoin the collective unconsciousness. At the very least, it’s a far less painful fate than what that man was about to subject her to. May we ask why we should assist her?”

Ren swallowed painfully as he lowered his head, racking his brain for reasons. “Because Olga… she isn’t a bad person,” he began. “She’s obnoxious, sure, but she’s kind and works hard despite all of society’s pressures. She might have knowledge we might need for the days ahead. Because I can’t just stand aside and let someone suffer any cruelty or injustice if I can prevent it.” And because I don’t want to lose anyone or anything else. What remains is all I have left.

Lavenza walked over, resting a hand on Ren’s arm, smiling warmly and reassuringly up at him. She turned to Igor. “The Trickster requires as many allies as he can in the face of this ruin, Master,” she spoke. “We haven’t sufficient power to provide even Arcanas for him, with the collective unconsciousness in the state that it is. Perhaps this will grant him yet another avenue.”

The Master of the Velvet Room was silent as he considered. Then he reached out with one thin, gloved hand and beckoned. The little speck of white detached from Joker’s mask as it briefly reappeared and floated into one of the jail cells that lined the Velvet Room. “We shall provide what assistance we can,” Igor said. “What happens now is up to her. Rest assured that here, she shall not come to harm.” Ren breathed a sigh of relief as he smiled gratefully at Igor and Lavenza.

“Now, you have received confirmation that humanity is indeed gone, and so is the collective unconsciousness and the sea of souls,” Lavenza stated. The mood dropped again as Ren put his hands in his pockets. “Unfortunately, the one who caused this ruin is far beyond our reach or knowledge. They lie beyond time and space, where we have no influence. However, while you were in that Singularity, we have felt sparks of power emanating from what little remains.” Ren looked up, surprised. “We do not know for certain what we can make of it. However, once you bring a Servant to your side, we may be able to convert this power for your use.”

“The Velvet Room is a place that exists between dream and reality, mind and matter,” Igor added. “Servants are but existences that are in much the same yet separate states as well. It is difficult to gauge – we have never had a Master or magus as a guest before, after all. You, however, stand at the threshold of something never seen before. This power will most likely be unmatched by any previous guest, and most likely any hereafter. Once more, we shall assist and guide you as best we can.”

Lavenza smiled. “But we have kept you long enough. Your other allies are waiting. Go, my Trickster. We shall see each other again soon.”

With that, the Velvet Room faded away into darkness, and Ren again knew no more.

Chapter Text

Ren blinked his eyes as he took in his surroundings now. A blue, mismatched, cracked ceiling. The room was illuminated by an orange glow. Whatever he was lying on was uncomfortable: Hard, with bits and pieces sticking into his back. Everything felt extremely sore and heavy. He let out a sigh that sounded like a groan. He could hear other voices nearby, and they seemed to be in much the same condition as he was.

“Mash! Ren! Morgana!”

Roman rushed over from some spot he couldn’t see. He moved over to someone besides him – probably, then stop at him. He checked Ren’s pulse, then eyes, pulling back his eyelids, before moving on to the last person. “Thank god you guys are okay,” he breathed out as he checked up on them. “A forced Rayshift like that done on the cuff without any coffins is dangerous and probably broke at least nine or ten different protocols –“

“Thirteen, doctor,” called a voice from out of sight.

“Er, thirteen,” Roman amended himself as he continued to work, moving a finger in front of Ren’s eyes to note his tracking and consciousness. “But given what’s happened to everyone and everything, well, protocol is probably the least of our worries at this point.” He straightened up. “Right, no problems so far as I can tell. Seems the worst that came from that was just fatigue. Can you sit up?”

Ren took a deep breath, then slowly pushed himself up. He felt stiff, overall, but nothing painful or out of place. He blearily looked around. Most of the command room was still in ruins, with the staff running about repairing or grabbing supplies. Robot drones rolled from place to place, cleaning up the rubble. Nearby, Mash was getting up rubbing her head, back in her regular lab uniform. Morgana steadily got back up on his four legs, reverted back to his usual cat form. He took a deep breath and looked over at Roman. “How bad is it?”

Roman chewed his lip and sighed. “Not gonna lie, Ren, it’s… pretty bad,” he replied. “The infirmary has about two or three people. I’ve already helped them as much as I could, but… well, there weren’t a lot of survivors. I guess we should be thankful that whoever remained is more or less in one piece, somehow.”

Small blessings indeed. He had to rub his eyes as he slowly stood up, Roman immediately grabbing his arm to steady him, before walking over to Mash and doing the same for her as she started standing. Morgana stepped over to Ren and jumped on his shoulder. “I haven’t been that tired in a while,” he commented, leaning his head against Ren’s in exhaustion. “That Singularity was wilder than anything I’ve done for a long time.” He could only nod in agreement. He blinked as Fou popped up from out of nowhere and rushed over to Mash, rubbing up against her in concern. He had to wonder where the little creature was the entire time. It must be great at keeping itself hidden and out of danger. He smirked tiredly as he felt Morgana stiffen, his claws digging mildly painfully into his shoulder at the sight.

“Now, I know you’re tired so I won’t keep you too long, but I’m gonna need to debrief you and update you on the situation,” Roman said with a sigh, running a hand through his disheveled orange hair. “Please tell me all you can about the Singularity.”

Ren blinked at Roman, then spoke about the Singularity as much as he could. About the shadow Servants, about their ally Cu Chulainn, about Olga Marie, and of course, about Lev Lainur and his betrayal. At any mentions of his magecraft, he noticed the staff looking up and either giving disbelieving looks or outright glaring at him, their provoking gazes causing the observing Morgana to tense up and glare back at them in turn. Ren ignored them – something he had plenty of practice of when he was exiled to Tokyo in the past under a false criminal record. As for Olga… he didn’t mention her at the end. That topic was especially tricky.

Roman didn’t say anything, just listening as Ren gave his report. Mash came and stood beside them, not jumping in to provide her own perspective despite ample reason to do so. When Roman finished, he looked back at the flaming CHALDEAS, silently contemplating. “And what about Olga?” he asked quietly. “I know she was with you and with what Lev said about her…” He trailed off. If she was indeed sent into the fireball there, then she would be eternally suffering a pain that would make even Hell seem like a mercy in turn.

The Master hesitated. “She’s… in a safer location. She can’t come back right now, but safe.”

That got Roman to turn around and look back at Ren. Ren’s expression was utterly blank, showing nothing. The cat was much the same – well, more so than a cat normally would. However, there was no malice in their expression nor any signs of falsehood. And more importantly, Mash said nothing, simply casting her eyes on the ground. If something did happen to the Director, she would’ve spoken up about it as well. But not only did she not know, she trusted Ren about it too. So many unknown factors here, but…

“Alright. I believe you.”

Ren and Morgana blinked in surprise as Roman gave him a tired smile. “Honestly, you don’t seem like a bad kid. Sure, you got mysterious powers and a talking cat that can use said powers too. But you fought your hardest to resolve the Singularity and great risk to yourself. If Mash vouches for you, then I’ll settle for that.” Ren blinked several times as an image appeared in his mind – of the police hauling him away into their police car, despite his protestations he was trying to help the woman from Shido. This… this was far different than he expected. He was this close to summoning Arsene and fighting his way out if things got bad, and he knew Morgana would be right beside him to do so as well.

“But Romani, you can’t just –“ a female voice called out.

“I can and I will,” he barked. “We don’t have any other Master candidates at the moment, and Ren Amamiya has performed admirably and with integrity. I’ll hear what complaints we have later but for now, we’ll put our trust in him.” Ren was surprised. He thought Roman was just a lazy, careless adult who was probably still a doctor for a good reason. To see him serious and take charge was surprising, and even more so when he was willing to put his belief in a mysterious variable he barely knew.

It reminded him a little of Sae. And his heart gave a painful pang once more as he caught a glimpse of the fireball that comprised CHALDEAS.

“Huh, guess when the chips are down, the doctor is pretty cool,” he whispered to Ren. Ren quietly nodded in agreement.

The doctor looked over to Mash. “Mash, you’ve been quiet for a while. What do you think?”

The lilac-haired Servant blinked at Roman before looking at Ren. “Um… Senpai is extremely knowledgeable and brave,” she stammered. “His magecraft is also unique as well. I think he’s an extremely capable Master, and I have no problems alongside him.” Ren gave a relieved, warm smile at Mash, who returned it with a shy one of her own, her blush concealed by the glow of CHALDEAS.

Morgana chuckled on Ren’s shoulder. “You got a good eye, Mash,” he chirped, grinning (as much as a cat can) at her. “There’s no one more reliable than Ren in the whole world, in my opinion. You’re in good hands.” Mash blinked in surprise before nodding quickly. Ren just gave a small smirk at his friend’s boasting.

Roman looked between the two, his eyes narrowing a bit, then sighed. He had his suspicions what was going on between the two but frankly, this wasn’t the time to pursue them. “Alright then. In that case, both of you are dismissed. We still have a lot of repairs to do, then we need to start tracking down Singularities. There’s seven of them, and we just dealt with one. Rest up how you can, and tomorrow we’ll get to summoning Servants.” Both Ren and Mash nodded. They would need more allies for the battles to come – especially since the battles would be far harsher than anything they ever faced.

With that, they both turned to leave the command room. Roman watched them leave before sighing yet again. “Meuniere, go through the records,” he said, turning to a bespectacled mage. “See what you can find about Ren Amamiya.” The man nodded as he raced off. “The rest of you, we’ve a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it,” he called out. “Let’s get back to it.” With that, everyone worked at repairs while Roman hopped onto his workstation.

And so his work began.

“You fought well, Mash.”

Mash blinked and looked up at Ren, who had given her the sudden compliment. He smiled warmly down at her. “That was your first time fighting, right? You did great, especially with our opponents as tough as those. It’s thanks to you we made it through.” Once more, she smiled shyly at the compliment.

Morgana hopped over to his other shoulder to a chuckle, looking down at her. “Yeah, you were great. Honestly, I thought you’d be slow with that huge shield, but no, you were running all over the place like lightning, blocking off attacks. You were extremely impressive, Mash, take it from us.” Both of them had seen their fair share of Awakenings, with each time being pitched into combat immediately after. But none of those times ever had enemies that were as powerful as Servants.

The demi-Servant smiled and bowed. “Thank you, Mr. Morgana,” she replied. “I’m inexperienced but I hope I can continue to be a good asset.”

The cat’s grin grew wider. “Mr. Morgana, huh?” he mused. “Well, you’re the most respectful person we’ve met in a while. I think you and I are gonna be great – “

“Fou!”

“ENEMIES what is that still doing here!” Ren glanced over to see that once more, Morgana’s hair was standing on end as Fou popped up and perched himself on Mash’s head, looking over at them curiously.

Ren smirked. “Really, Morgana, I know you don’t like dogs much but aren’t you overdoing it a bit? You’ve seen dogs before, haven’t you?” Said dogs were usually far larger and far more hostile than little Fou – Orthos was one particular shadow that came to mind, back in the Metaverse. Morgana had no trouble fighting alongside them to deal with them. Ren reached over to pet Fou, stroking him under his chin as Morgana retreated from the decreased distance to his other shoulder.

“It’s not because it’s a dog,” Morgana hissed in Ren’s ear. “I dunno what it is, but something about that… THING gives me the creeps! Just… don’t get too comfortable with it, okay?”

He frowned slightly in Morgana’s direction as he continued to pet Fou. He wasn’t about to discard Morgana’s advice – anything that could drive him up the wall in such a manner was definitely worth bearing in mind – but it also wouldn’t do to make unnecessary enemies. And who could make enemies of something as adorable as Fou?

Mash giggled as she straightened her glasses. “Fou’s taken quite a liking to you, senpai,” she commented, looking over at them. “I would ask if you’d like to hold him, but I think Mr. Morgana wouldn’t enjoy that prospect.”

“No, I certainly wouldn’t!”

Ren laughed. “I’ll take up the offer another time, Mash,” he replied easily. He looked around. “Out of curiosity, Mash, do you know where’s the cafeteria? I don’t think we ate since the beginning of everything and honestly, I’m a bit hungry.”

The shielder smiled brightly. “Yes. It’s right this way, senpai!” With that, she led them through the halls of Chaldea. They were cold and deserted, with the occasional hum of a robot rolling by. Both Ren and Morgana noted some of the ceilings and walls had cracks in them, though they didn’t seem unstable. The quiet was certainly eerie, only reminding them that most of the staff were dead… and so was the rest of humanity. Several hallways were dark as well. The power must still be out in many of the sections.

They came to the cafeteria. It was a large, open area, filled with empty tables and chairs. On the far side was a counter and behind that was the kitchen. It was gleaming and spotless. It had been cleaned meticulously – probably by the robots. This was where people were supposed to eat and relax, with cooks working and cooking in the kitchen. But now, with everyone either dead or busy, it was desolate and quiet. Not even a cook – human or robot – manned the kitchen.

Mash deflated a bit. “Oh, um… it seems they haven't activated the automatic chef,” she murmured. “Perhaps there’s some snacks that’s – senpai?”

Ren had simply walked forward past and headed into the kitchen. Morgana took a shortcut after hopping off Ren’s shoulders, jumping up on the counter before hopping quietly in. Mash took a second to blink before following, Fou tagging along for the ride, as he walked into the storeroom in the back. She watched curiously as Ren looked over the ingredients available, checking in the cooler as well what meats were there as well.

“Huh, they’re surprisingly well stocked here,” Morgana commented, looking around. “Got plenty of vegetables and meats here, herbs…. Ooh, Ren, over here! Curry spices!”

Immediately Ren whirled around and looked over the spices, weighing out the ingredients in his mind. There was a large stock of them so at least they wouldn’t be running out any time soon. A smile crossed his lips. There was quite a bit he could work with here. He could definitely make this work. But more importantly, where was the –

“Ren? We hit the jackpot.”

He looked over and his eyes widened. There was a wall with shelves dedicated to many different kinds of coffee beans. All sorts of different varieties that Sojiro had taught him, and some more he hadn’t seen before either. “I think I saw some grinders and coffee makers around too,” Morgana added. “I think we got everything we need here! Thank god Chaldea’s stocked.”

Ren nodded with a smirk on his face. He turned to Mash who was watching with a confused expression. “Go ahead and wait at the counter, Mash,” Ren said. “I’ll just whip something up for us really quickly.” Mash blinked but nodded. “Okay, senpai, but do be careful.” She walked out the door as Morgana gave a low chuckle.

“’Do be careful’ she says,” he remarked. “Think she’ll be blown away?”

The Master of Chaldea only smiled.

A complex aroma soon filled the dead air of the cafeteria. A mix of spices and other ingredients wafted through, setting anyone’s appetite into overdrive. Mixed with that was the rich scent of coffee. And not instant coffee – it was the scent of a carefully ground and prepared blend that had been made by a master. Ren contentedly stirred the pot of curry, making sure it doesn’t burn, before hopping back over to the coffee maker, carefully boiling and percolating the coffee to make sure it was just right. The rice cooker popped a little while ago, indicating it was ready.

Mash sat at the counter, watching with rapt attention as Ren worked, Morgana sitting on the counter beside her with Fou on the chair on the other side (and whom Morgana very pointedly tried to ignore). More than once she had to reach up to wipe the drool that leaked from her mouth, her eyes never turning away from the sight. Morgana had to snicker. Everyone’s reaction to Ren preparing food had been pretty similar. Granted, no one stared quite as hard as Mash currently was but the drooling was quite common. It never got old, watching people drool for curry. Fou was sniffing the air and barked for food for themselves too.

Grabbing some fresh plates, Ren grabbed a rice scoop and heaped plenty of rice on each one. Taking a ladle, he spooned the curry and generously poured it on the rice. Bringing them over, he set a plate for Mash, Morgana, and Fou, setting aside his own plate. Moving back, he then poured out three cups of coffee as well, black, and passed a cup to Mash and Morgana. He hesitated. “Can Fou… drink coffee?” he asked.

Fou hopped onto the counter and approached Mash’s own cup, sniffing it, then looked up at Ren. “Fou fou!”

Mash giggled. “I think Fou wants some too, senpai,” she translated. Ren grinned and happily got another cup.

With that, all of them dug in after Ren joined them at the counter, still standing in the kitchen. Mash’s eyes widened. The complicated spice blend and ingredients blended harmoniously together into a superb mix that she had never tasted before. Combined with the filling texture of rice, and the only word she could think of as she tasted it was ‘sublime’. She spooned another mouthful, each time discovering more and more varied flavors that she hadn’t experienced or noticed before.

A chuckle broke her out of her reverie. She blinked and saw Ren grinning at her. “Before you polish off your plate, you should try the coffee with it,” he pointed out, amused. Mash looked down at the coffee and by association, her plate, and noticed that she had already eaten through about three quarters of it. Warmth spilled on her face once more. She hadn’t even noticed she ate so much so quickly.

She took the coffee and took a sip, and her eyes widened again. It was bitter, yes, but there were notes to the coffee she had never detected before. The only other time was when Roman allowed her to try some when she asked. It was revoltingly bitter and she had to wonder why Roman liked the stuff. But this… this was far different. Still bitter, but it was complex and rich. “I’ve… I’ve never had coffee like this, senpai,” Mash admitted.

Ren chuckled. “I’m not surprised – I noticed all you guys were having was instant coffee.” As Ren was grabbing the beans, he noticed that only the instant coffee stocks were anywhere near low. “It’s good for a quick pick-me-up, sure, but good coffee is an art form. You guys stocked some good stuff here. I used primarily Columbian Nariño beans for this particular blend.”

Mash tilted her head. “Columbian… Nariño?”

The master coffee maker grinned as Morgana chuckled. “Let me explain,” he replied, drawing himself up, even taking on a similar slouching pose to his once-and-future mentor of the bean. “Columbian Nariño is grown from the region of the same name, bordering Ecuador and the Pacific Ocean. Coffee made from these beans have a creamy, viscous body that coats the mouth with fruity and nutty flavors.” Yet another sharp pang in his heart rang out as he explained. Sojiro had explained patiently each coffee beans origins and properties, with a gruffness that could only come from a deep-rooted passion. He would teach Ren the preparation step by step, critiquing his brew and correcting his methods until he could master the perfect cup of each bean. His smile wavered as he remembered what probably happened to him – something Mash missed but Morgana didn’t, silently frowning with concern.

But he didn’t think about it for now. He pushed it aside. He wouldn’t have to mourn him either. All he needed was deal with the Singularities and it would bring humanity back. So that was what he would do. And after that, he would see Sojiro again, and they could share a coffee together once more.

The girl’s eyes watched Ren attentively as she drank in the information before looking back at the coffee. To think there was so much… Art that went into making coffee. She took another sip, quickly noticing the flavors Ren had pointed out and swiftly gaining a new appreciation for the brew. Then she remembered Ren’s words, set down the cup, and took another spoonful of the curry. Her eyes flew open. As Ren said, the rich flavors of the coffee somehow enhanced further the spices and ingredients that lay within the curry, further emphasizing it. The curry was already delicious, but to taste it with the coffee was like night and day.  

Before long, her plate was clean and the cup empty. It was all so delicious that she didn’t spare a single bit. She looked back up and saw Ren and Morgana were eating and drinking at a more leisurely pace. She felt guilty. She didn’t want to impose on them as she fidgeted in her seat – a movement that Ren quickly noticed. “Seconds, I take it?” he asked with a knowing smile, less a question and more of a statement. Mash looked down and nodded demurely. Ren just chuckled. “Two more plates and cups, coming up,” he said, getting up to grab them.

Two? Mash looked beside her and saw that Fou had also polished off his plate and cup of coffee as well. “Fou, kyu, fou!” they barked. Mash had to smile. It didn’t take a genius to know what Fou wanted here.

Before too long, they were all utterly stuffed, Fou and Morgana contentedly lounging about as Mash leaned back with a satisfied sigh. Then she looked up, blinking. “Senpai, is there any left still?”

Ren checked and shrugged. “Enough for one more plate and cup, I think. Why, still haven’t eaten enough?”

The girl blushed, shaking his head. “N-no, not for me, senpai. I was going to take a plate and cup to Roman. He’s working hard so I think he might appreciate it.” Ren smiled and nodded in understanding. He heaped one more plate of rice and curry, and filled one more cup with coffee, passing it to Mash.

“Still warm, so no problems there, but do tell him to eat it quickly,” Ren cautioned.

Mash smiled radiantly and nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you so much for the wonderful food, senpai,” she chirped, bowing to Ren. She took the plate and cup of heavenly food and walked away. Fou yawned instead of following Mash, curling up to sleep.

Morgana yawned as well. “Welp, I’m gonna walk around a bit and burn a bit of this off,” Morgana said, stretching. “Haven’t had a good chance to explore Chaldea yet. What about you, Ren?”

Ren considered, then shrugged. “I’ll probably go relax in my room, maybe read something. Or head to bed, depending on the time. It’s hard to tell in here.”

The cat looked about, seeing Ren’s point. “Oh yeah. It’s kinda hard to tell if it’s day or night without any windows, isn’t it?” he mused. He hopped down. “Well, if that’s the case, make sure you don’t stay up too late. You know how I get about that.”

Ren chuckled as he waved the cat off. He knew all too well Morgana’s absolute insistence that he went to bed at a decent time. Morgana sauntered off without another word as Ren collected the remaining dishes to wash them. Despite everything going on, he could almost pretend things were normal.

Almost.

Roman rubbed his eyes as he kept staring at the monitor, trying to find any sign of different Singularities. It wasn’t an easy thing to find. The algorithms needed to be constantly adjusted to detect minor variances and variable shifts as patterns kept shifting. Every time he thought he spotted a Singularity, it seemed to just slip away again, be it because it was that hard to track or it was merely a false alarm. And that didn’t include the myriad false alarms of smaller singularities popping up.

Much of the staff had been going about doing their repairs, but they had been working in shifts, taking breaks as necessary. Roman hadn’t bothered. He wasn’t all that tired. He could keep looking. And it would be a bit easier once the repairs were done and others could join him. But for now, humanity depended on their ability to find these Singularities and fix them. So he would definitely do so –

He heard movement to his side and looked over to see Mash, holding a plate of curry and coffee. “Oh, you made dinner?” he asked, blinking. He didn’t recall ever teaching Mash how to cook but he certainly appreciated it. “Well, thank you, Mash! I was starving!”

The shielder shook her head, a warm smile gracing her features. “No, doctor. Senpai made these,” she corrected. “He made a large pot but we finished it rather quickly. Thankfully I remembered to save some for you. He advises you to eat it quickly though. It’s not as good cold, after all.”

Roman blinked in surprise then nodded in understanding. “Alright, got it,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll be sure to thank him next time I see him then. In the meantime, Mash, it’s getting pretty late. You should get some sleep.”

Mash smiled and bowed. “Very well. Have a good evening, doctor. Please don’t work yourself too hard.” With that, she turned around and left the control room.

The doctor watched as she left, then sighed. Meuniere wasn’t back with the information yet. From what he glanced at Ren’s file, there wasn’t anything particular. His parents had no lineage or history of magecraft, and the only thing that stood out was apparently a criminal record that had been rescinded – apparently it was for assault and he had been in probation for a better part of a year? But Ren didn’t strike him as the violent type. He seemed a decent kid who just so happened to suddenly gain extremely powerful magecraft and had tactical prowess. He absentmindedly sipped some coffee… and a new world was opened to him as the flavors coated his tongue. He lunged for the curry as well, and the spices melted his brain.

He stared down at the food, the coffee in particular. He felt movement again and looked up – and saw it was his arm unconsciously reaching up to call Meuniere to cancel his search, as the coffee had shocked any sensibility into irrelevance. Roman grabbed his arm and forced it down. If there was something bad they found out about Ren, then they had to know. There wasn’t any choice. It would be worth sacrificing such a well-crafted, delicious, masterful piece of culinary art-

Roman forced his arm back down again. Damnit.

Ren dug through the box and pack of his things. Most of it was fairly straightforward – clothing, toiletries, some books, things that nobody would particularly care about. However, there was one certain item that he brought along as well. This one had to be smuggled in: apparently there was a ban on this particular item, with any findings or detections of it resulting in confiscation. However, with Morgana’s help, he managed to get it in regardless. The phone had been hooked up to a large external battery to keep its charge. He meant to find a good, hidden place to charge it, but there just hadn’t been time.

He dug out his cellphone. Pressing the power button, he awakened it from sleep mode. The charge was still full, with the external battery at about three quarters of the way. He looked. No signal. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, it was the Antarctic – how the hell was he going to get a signal here where there’s no phone service whatsoever? Maybe this place had wifi as well? Unlocking his phone, he checked. No wifi networks either.

That drew a frown. What kind of state-of-the-art facility didn’t have wifi?!

His phone was filled with all sorts of different apps. He stared at one particular spot, a gaping hole among the organized square icons. In the past, he would be met with a logo that looked like a stylized red eye. When his adventures and trials were completed, the app had vanished from his phone, like it was never there to begin with. Still, he kept it spot open as a sort of remembrance. It wasn’t easy for him to forget it all, and it would be remiss for him to do so.

Tapping another icon, he opened up another window: The group chat. The icons of his friends sent more pangs to his heart. Their last messages were of well wishes and requests for souvenirs and photos. He could still remember them clear as day when he received them. He was going to treat them out to dinner at the very least. Maybe that hotel buffet again. Ryuji and Ann had gorged themselves on meat and cake respectively. Makoto would at least keep them in line and made sure they had healthier diets. Yusuke would most like be too busy contemplating the spectacle of the buffet to eat properly. Futaba would grab whatever – which most likely would necessitate Makoto watching her as well. Haru would probably be more reserved, happy to join along. Sumire… her dishes would probably dwarf whatever piles any of the Phantom Thieves made.

Ren had to smile at that. They would’ve enjoyed it, taken lots of pictures, and talked about it all day.

His thumb moved over the screen as he typed a message into the Phantom Thieves group chat.

“Hey guys. Here at Chaldea. I’m not sure how much I can tell you, but it’s beyond crazy here. I think it might trump our Metaverse adventures."

-Sending-

…

-Server not found-

Right. Antarctica. What did he expect. Or the incineration of all of humanity. He bit his lip as he let out a shaky breath. Did they suffer? Was it at least fast? Questions he didn’t want answers to he shoved out as much as he could. No, he’d bring them back. There was a set goal. Seven singularities and whatever god was behind it. It was always some false god doing this. It was business as usual. He would be back in no time.

“Hasn’t been smooth so far, guys, not gonna lie. But I fought alongside Cu Chulainn of all people against King Arthur. It’s crazy. It’s like that thing, what was it, Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny? Did I get that right, Futaba?"

-Sending-

…

-Server not found-

Ren gulped. It wouldn’t send. But that didn’t matter. He could still imagine their replies, clear as day, as they would appear on the screen.

F: Wow, I didn’t think anyone even knew about that anymore! You’re up to date on your internet culture, Joker!

R: Ultimate wha of wha?

F: Wow, you serious Ryuji? You are seriously missing out.

H: I must admit I’m curious about it myself. Are there any axe wielders perchance?

S: Or perhaps gymnasts? But are you okay, senpai? It sounds dangerous!

A drop fell on the screen.

M: Wait, everyone, we’re missing the point! Sumire’s right. Joker, are you safe? The situation truly sounds quite deadly.

Y: Yes. You may be our fearless leader, but even I would balk from facing such legends.

A: Waaait, you’re not serious are you? … You’re totally serious. Joker, where the hell are you?!

R: It’s shitty adults dragging you into some situation again, isn’t it?! Damnit, we’re on our way, right guys?!

F: Looking up ways to get to Antarctica now! Not gonna be easy, and even less of a way to hack in, but to hell with it!

More drops.

H: Perhaps I could check with some of my father’s associates. They may be able to pull some strings to get us there…

F: Oooh, nice thinking, rich girl!

M: We best get supplies. We’ll need thick winter gear, probably rations as well. Joker, can you coordinate with Mona and set up some sort of rendezvous?

R: Well, if you can get outside. If you can’t, we’ll just have to bust right in, don’t we?!

A: I don’t think they’re just gonna let us ‘bust right in’, Ryuji.

R: Well, we got any better ideas?

His arms were getting weak and struggling to hold up the phone as yet more drops fell onto the phone screen.

S: Well, maybe a ship? It wouldn’t be as fast but less conspicuous.

R: Oooh, yeah! We can smuggle ourselves on that!

M: We wouldn’t have a way to get back though.

R: Oh yeah.

F: Well, in that case, it’s on you, fearless leader! We’ll do what we can on our end, so find us a good spot we can land and we’ll bust you out in no time!

Y: Indeed. We shall spare no expense to free you.

F: You can’t spare ANY expense, Inari.

M: Behave you two. Remember, Joker, we always got your back.

His vision swam too much. He blinked, forcing more tears out of his eyes. He opened them again and looked at the screen. The entire conversation… gone. No. It never existed to begin with. It was only his message there at the end. One that didn’t send. Would never send.

Ren’s quiet sobs echoed through his room – a sound he would allow no one else to hear.

Chapter Text

A new morning came to Chaldea. The automatic lights turned on throughout the halls as the scheduled time approached. It was difficult to differentiate between day and night within the building, as there were no windows. Everyone lived and died by the clock. There weren’t any complaints though – absolutely nobody wanted to see what lurked outside, be it snow and blizzards or an utter hellscape of flame. The base’s autonomous life support kept the place in stable condition for everyone living there: recycling air, regulating temperature, and far more. While it wasn’t the most luxurious of places, compared to the state of the world right now, it was practically heaven.

Mash walked down the halls of Chaldea, her shoes echoing through the empty space. It had always been a habit for her to get up early. Her days in Chaldea had composed to studying and assisting the various researchers around the building. Her off time consisted of her reading or perhaps watching archived movies or shows. Roman was the one who introduced the latter to her to show her a bit more of the world despite not being able to enter it. It had all been immensely fascinating. Roman held a high place in her heart as he looked out for her the best he could and did his absolute best to teach her.

Then again, that didn’t mean he didn’t exasperate her from time to time.

She was making her way to the living quarters. It had been vastly emptied thanks to the sabotage and subsequent disaster the other day. Most of the rooms were unoccupied now, with whatever belongings collected by the robots, boxed, and set in storage, to be given to their next of kin when (if) it was possible. The only company she had as she walked was Fou, who she held in her arms. He was warm, soft, and fluffy, and Fou certainly didn’t mind it. In fact, he dug into her chest to get even more comfortable as she did. A bit ticklish, but she liked the company. Idly, she wondered if Mr. Morgana would let her hold him in a similar manner. She only managed to pet him one time, and he was very soft. In a different way than Fou but soft, nevertheless.

It was still early in the morning. Perhaps Ren was still asleep? Roman did ask for Ren to come see him when he was able, but there was no rush, after all. Maybe they could go get some breakfast before they saw him. She was sure that she saw some apple muffins in the storeroom. Milk would be good too. She was a bit tired though. Perhaps some coffee. Some coffee made by Ren, and maybe some of the curry as well. The taste still swirled in her mouth with a multitude of flavors that she hadn’t been expecting and frankly she wasn’t sure if there were any normal or common dishes that could match that just send her taste buds reeling –

Wiping off the drool that was accumulated, she composed herself. No, senpai first, food later. Get the order correct, Mash, she thought to herself. Before long, she reached his room. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door. “Senpai, it’s morning,” she called gently. “Are you awake?”

The response was surprisingly immediate. “Yeah, I am. Come in, Mash.”

Mash nodded, placing a hand on the panel beside the door. “Then pardon my intrusion, s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s….” She immediately trailed off as heat exploded onto her face as she witnessed what Ren was doing.

Ren was doing pushups in the middle of the room. All the time in the Metaverse as well as training at the gym had made this a habit for him. One never knew when a strong, decent body would pay off. It certainly did then in spades as he was more physically and mentally capable as he fought. His training had gotten to the point where he could do the pushups one handed, grunting each time he lifted his body weight up. Sweat streamed down from his brow and from his shirtless body. At least he didn’t have two little girls sitting on his back when he worked out this time. Caroline and Justine had way too much fun tormenting him.

He normally would still be asleep – he was a habitually late riser – but he hadn’t slept well last night. How could anyone? All he had were thoughts about the world ending and countless nightmares that he forgot as he woke up, yet their lingering effects stayed anyway. Morgana had tried to get him to go back to sleep, but to no avail. At least he went to bed early enough that he still got a healthy amount of sleep regardless. Morgana himself was sitting on a table, nonchalantly cleaning his paw as Ren continued exercising.

“Morning Mash,” he grunted as he shoved a bit harder, lifting him into the air with enough time to switch hands. “Did you sleep well?”

“Y-y-y-yes, I d-d-did, s-s-senpai, th-th-thank you,” she stammered out, her eyes locked onto Ren’s body as it rose up and down. She knew common courtesy was to look away but frankly, for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure herself, she couldn’t. “Um, R-R-Roman w-wanted to s-s-see you when y-you, um, h-h-h-had a ch-chance, s-s-s-senpai, b-but, uh, d-d-d-did you w-w-w-want to get b-b-b-breakfast f-f-first?”

Ren stopped for a second and looked up at Mash with a grin. “Yeah, sounds good to me,” he replied. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria after I wash up. I’m just about done anyway.” So saying, he stood up and stretched his arms, giving her a fantastic view of his lean, corded body, built for agility and strength. He glanced over at Mash who was standing there, transfixed, staring with eyes as round as saucers and a face that was as red as a tomato. “Is there something else, Mash?” he asked curiously.

That snapped her out of her reverie as she desperately shook her head. “N-no, not at a-a-all, s-s-senpai! Um, I-I’ll s-see you a-a-at the c-c-cafeteria!” With that, she more or less bolted away, Fou dangling from her grip as the door sliding closed behind her with a quiet hiss.

Morgana gave Ren a deadpan expression. “You totally did that on purpose.”

Ren smirked. “I have no idea what you mean,” he replied lightly as he grabbed a change of clothes.

After grabbing breakfast with Mash (who was red the entire time and couldn’t look him in the eye), Ren made his way to the command room, with Morgana yawning on his shoulder. The command room certainly looked far better now than it did the other day: Most of the rubble was gone and more people were manning the various displays and computers rather than running about trying to repair things. Roman was at his own workstation, looking at programs that he couldn’t make head nor tails of. Standing beside him, looking at his monitor was a beautiful young woman with long brown hair.

As Ren approached, both of them looked up. “Ah, Ren,” Roman greeted with a smile. There were dark shadows under his eyes. “Good morning. Your curry and coffee was great by the way. I, uh, don’t suppose I can trouble you for a couple more cups? Or gallons, rather?”

Morgana scowled. “How about instead of coffee, you go to bed, doctor!” he growled. :You of all people should know how much sleep is needed for good health!”

The woman beside Roman immediately brought a hand up as she giggled. “See, Roman?” she said in a kind if smug tone. Ren had a feeling that this argument had been going on for some time. “If even the gatto is telling you that you need to rest, then surely you should.”

Roman sighed and waved her off. “Once a Singularity is found, then I’ll get some sleep,” he grumbled. “Ah, I don’t think you’ve made her acquaintance yet. This is Chaldea’s Servant, a Caster who works as the chief engineer: Leonardo da Vinci.”

Ren and Morgana both blinked and stared at da Vinci, who giggled again. “My, what piercing stares from such a handsome ragazzo and a gatto magnifico,” she commented as she posed, giving beatific smile. “I can understand though – my beauty can only be matched by my genius, after all. I quite understand, my giovane prodigio.”

That snapped Ren out of it a little. “Er, it’s not quite that. You said you’re Leonardo da Vinci, right?” The woman in question nodded with a slightly broader smile. “And yet you’re um… a woman. D-did recorded history get something wrong again?”

Da Vinci burst out laughing. “No, no, my dear ragazzo. History was correct this time – I was indeed a male. But when I was summoned, I took certain liberties. I decided to model myself after my ultimate pursuit of beauty, and thus I stand before you, as the super-genius, true beauty Uomo Universale!”

Morgana’s eyes widened in realization. “The Mona Lisa,” he breathed, causing da Vinci’s grin to widen even further. “That was your inspiration and what you took after.”

The self-titled (and very deservedly earned) super-genius clapped her hands together in delight. “Excellent! You truly are a gatto magnifico, Morgana!” she exclaimed. “You are quite correct! The Mona Lisa was my pursuit of true beauty during my life, and so it is only rational that, when given the opportunity, I would pursue it further. The fact that so many people appreciate it only shows that humanity truly can understand such a pursuit in the end!”

Roman sighed and gave a tired smile. “As you guys can tell, if you let her, da Vinci will sing her own praises all day, every day,” he remarked. Da Vinci turned to him with a look that, despite never dropping her beautiful smile, still sent shivers down everyone’s back. “B-but never mind that,” he hurriedly continued, clearing his throat. “Da Vinci was actually about to leave but I managed to persuade her to stay. Thanks to her work, many of Chaldea’s functions are back online, and we even have working power as opposed to just backup generators. She’ll be supporting us from now on.”

The beautiful Caster smiled. “Si! I will be helping with various logistical efforts as well as equipment. If you have any requests or questions, let me know immediately. There is nothing beyond a super-genius like me, after all!”

Ren and Morgana looked at each other before smirking. “Really, nothing beyond you?” Morgana asked wryly. “Because we’ve got a lot of stuff we need, and none of it is easy. Think we can count on you, Caster?”

Da Vinci’s smile grew as her eyes narrowed slightly, giving off a more predatory air now. “Oh, my dear gatto magnifico, is that a challenge I hear?” she purred. “Very well, then – write down any and all requests of me and I shall see they will be provided by the time the next Singularity is found. And please, just call me da Vinci – Caster just feels so common, after all. And if you summon another Caster, well, that will just make things confusing.”

Morgana chuckled. “We’ll hold you to that, da Vinci,” he replied, easily switching over to her name instead. Ren had to smirk. Some supplies would certainly be good, and Ren could easily think of a few things they could have to make their next sorties smoother. And now they had a provider. And da Vinci didn’t come off as a blowhard either – they both had a feeling that she was just as capable as she boasted. They couldn’t wait for the results.

Roman simply looked between the two as they had their discussion, then cleared his throat to regain their attention. “Now then, on to the other matter,” he continued. “Today we’ll be summoning Servants. The normal protocol here is that every Master summons one Servant, and a maximum of seven Servants are to be summoned. But…” Roman glanced over at CHALDEAS. “Well, protocols won’t do us good if there’s nobody around in the end, is there?” Everyone else looked over at the flaming sphere grimly.

Well, that didn’t matter. Ren and Morgana weren’t typically fond of following rules anyway, especially if they got in the way.

“Servants are normally sustained by a Master’s prana, but Chaldea’s generators should be able to withstand the load of a considerable number of Servants, so we don’t need to worry about that,” Roman continued. “Mash went ahead to the summoning room, so go ahead and meet her there. Should be down that hallway and to the right.” He pointed at the doorway. “We’ll meet you there shortly.”

Ren nodded and walked off, Morgana still perched. After they left, Roman sagged in his seat as da Vinci looked over, concerned. “Do you think they’ll be ready?” Roman asked, watching the direction they walked off.

Da Vinci pondered. “Hm, both the ragazzo and the gatto seem to have fought before,” she murmured. “They are certainly more reliable than anyone expected, but that only begs the question: Where did they get their experience from?”

Roman shook his head. That was what he was having Meuniere look into, but so far the man wasn’t having much luck either. But then, he wasn’t exactly a detective or an information analyst. He was simply the most available person he saw at the time. The question of Olga still loomed over all of them and the only thing they could do was take Ren’s word for it. It wasn’t exactly anything close to a foolproof solution, but they didn’t have another choice.

Besides, Roman saw when Olga tried to cow Ren by threatening them with detention to figure out how he got his new abilities. Even from another time and space away, he could feel icy chills down his spine from Ren’s reaction. No, trying to interrogate him for answers would only yield an even bigger disaster than leaving him alone.

Shaking his head, he decided to change topics. “So, what do you think the two will request from you?” Roman asked, his curiosity piqued.

Da Vinci smiled gleefully. “I don’t know, and that honestly excites me, Roman,” she said, her voice filled with anticipation. “Whatever the two have in mind, I’m honestly looking forward to it. They certainly don’t act or work like standard magi, or standard people really. I can only imagine what they will need.” Then she turned back to Roman. Her eyes rove over to his computer screen – and froze. “I’ve no doubt they are hardworking, but I’m not quite sure about you, Roman.”

Roman blinked, then paled as he spun back to his computer and quickly closed the window. “M-Magi*Mari is essential, da Vinci,” he pleaded. “She’s a great morale booster for me and, and she also has great advice! You wouldn’t understand it. She’s important, okay?”

The universal (wo)man looked unimpressed. “Si, si, if you say so. Now let’s go. Mash and our giovane prodigio and gatto magnifico are awaiting us in the summoning room. You can ‘talk’ to Magi*Mari later.” Before Roman could protest any further, da Vinci grabbed his ear and pulled him with her as the man yelped in pain, heading to the summoning room.

Everyone remaining could only sigh in exasperation.

The summoning room was a larger yet surprisingly plain affair. There wasn’t too much to it overall – a number of circuits lining the room to provide magical energy as necessary, with a raise platform where Mash had laid her shield. It would apparently work as a conduit and catalyst necessary for summoning Heroic Spirits. Overall, it was devoid of frills and was made to serve a very specific reason. Ren and Morgana stood forward as Roman, da Vinci, and Mash hung out near the back. As Masters, they would be the ones doing the summoning. There was currently enough energy for two summons until the generator could go into full swing, but it should do.

Ren stepped forward and held out his hand. He took a deep breath as the lines he had been taught just a moment ago appeared in his mind. With that, he held out his hand and began.

“Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat five times, but destroy each when filled.”

The words to the Fate summoning ritual, passed down from generation to generation. It was an incantation to bring forth a Servant and bound them to the contract. The exact wording could vary. It was the self-hypnosis that came with it that was important.

“A base of silver and steel.

A foundation of stone and the Archduke of Contracts.

And my ancestor, my great master, Schweinorg.”

Morgana watched with crossed arms as Ren continued with the ritual. Normally such things he would try to interject, but this was magic and magecraft they were dealing with here. Subjects that neither of them had even the slightest knowledge of. Regardless, he was on hand in case something went wrong.

“A wall to block the falling wind.

The gates of all four directions close.

From the Crown, come forth and follow the forked road to the Kingdom.”

Mash’s shield began glowing as a magic circle lit up. Prana began filling the room, suffusing the place in energy. Morgana’s eyes widened in amazement as Mash, Roman, and da Vinci kept watching. Ren was astonished as well but didn’t allow his concentration didn’t waver as he continued.

“I hereby propose: My will shall create thy body, and they sword shall create my fate.

Abiding by the summons of the Holy Grail, if thou dost accede to this will and reason, answer me!”

The circle began glowing more brightly as it lifted itself from the shield, expanding in size as it hovered in the air. Sparks of prana began emitting as the air around them began buffeting, Morgana lifting his paws to cover his face.

“I hereby swear. I will be all that is good in the eternal world. I will be the disposer of evil in the eternal world.”

Large rings of prana began forming all around them, with the magic circle being the epicenter of them all. Morgana took a step back, his eyes still wide as Ren continued. The magic, the prana, the wind, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the ritual. He would dedicate his all to it, and bring forth a Servant that would help them save the world.

“Thou, clad with the Great Trinity, come forth from the circle of restraint.

Guardian of the Heavenly Scales!”

The rings all contracted and merged in a brilliant flash of light. As the light faded, smoke was left behind, obscuring their vision… until a figure emerged from the smoke. A taller man with darker skin, with slicked back white hair and red coat with black body armor. His powerful grey eyes looked throughout the room before settling on Ren. He gave a sardonic smile. “So you’re my master,” he remarked. “Servant, Archer. I look forward to fighting alongside you.”

Ren blinked, then nodded. The figure in front of him felt extraordinarily powerful, though in a different way from Cu Chulainn. Cu Chulainn felt like he had the untamed power of nature at his command. Saber felt like a dark power that would sweep them all away in a pulse of power. Archer, however, felt like steel. Everywhere, unyielding, and reliable. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Welcome to Chaldea, Archer,” Ren greeted with a smile. “It’s good to have you here.”

Archer blinked in surprise at the hand, then grasped it. “Greeting a Servant so casually. You certainly aren’t like other mages,” he commented, his tone and smile warmer now. “The Throne filled me in on my summoning conditions. It would seem we have our work cut out for us.” Ren had to chuckle. That was putting it mildly, for certain.

Suddenly, a bouncing Morgana interrupted them. “Hey, Archer, it’s great you’re here and all, but can you move aside?” he demanded, glaring up at him. “I gotta do a summoning too!”

The steel-eyed man could only blink in surprise down at Morgana. A… cat. A talking cat. And he was going to be a Master. His sharp gaze could see the command seals on its front paw. “I… see,” he replied, genuinely at a loss for words. Then he regained his composure and stepped off the summoning circle. “Really, I have to say, having a cat as a Master is something I certainly haven’t seen before,” he noted with another sardonic smile. “Though most likely you’ll set a better standard than most other Masters – cats at least know how to keep themselves alive, after all.”

Morgana glared at Archer. “Is that an insult? I feel like that’s an insult,” he growled. “You wanna run that by me again?” Archer just gave a lazy grin as he joined the other three, crossing his arms and leaning against a wall.

Ren sighed. “Now, now, let’s all get along,” he said, raising his hands. Well, this wasn’t the first time he had to mitigate fights between team members. Morgana and Ryuji went at it each other so often that more than once, he or Makoto had to tell them to knock it off. He looked over at his Servant. Archer didn’t seem all that perturbed by anything that was going on around him, preferring instead to watch. He could feel his eyes reading everything in the room, already calculating each and every scenario. He had no doubt if someone hostile was summoned, he would already be leaping into action before he could give a single order.

Well, he may have a mouth on him, but at least he’s reliable. He just needed to make sure Archer wasn’t in the same room as Ryuji. He idly wondered what would happen if Archer and Akechi met…

The thought caused his throat to constrict. Akechi was one of the few people he couldn’t save, no matter what he did. And the only thing Maruki could give him despite his overwhelming power was an illusion. One so real that he immediately broke through the former counselor’s world because he couldn’t imagine anything going well for him. He thought he might have seen a hint of him after they had defeated Maruki but…. No, it must have been a hallucination from a tired mind. No more, no less.

That still didn’t mean Akechi didn’t haunt his dreams from time to time though. Only recently was he more eclipsed.

Morgana stepped forward now and held out his paw. He began repeating the same lines from the ritual as the magic circle began glowing once more. Ren stepped back a bit from the buffeting winds. So this was what it looked like from the outside… the sheer amount of power he felt around gave him goosebumps. It was like witnessing a ceremonial event, one that would define the world in the coming days. Then again, given they were summoning heroes from legend and myths, perhaps that wasn’t too inaccurate.

Another bright flash of light illuminated the room, blinding everyone once more. As it faded, another figure stood on the summoning circle. A man with shorter blue hair and fierce red eyes. Dressed in blue spandex with metal pauldrons, while holding a blood-red spear in his free hand. “Heh, well, I know I asked for a good fight, but a situation like this? You’re practically spoiling me,” he commented with a lazy grin. “I’m a Lancer – Cu Chulainn. So, what needs killing?”

As Lancer looked up, however, his eyes fell on Archer. His face fell in proportion to the dismay that was on Archer’s face. “Oh no. No no no, not this bastard again,” he grumbled, facepalming. “I finally think I’m gonna get some decent fights and now I have to deal with your ass? Well, win some, lose some, I suppose.” He looked around at the trail of prana, then looked down to see his new Master. Again, he blinked several times. “And now my Master is a kitty cat. Oh boy, my luck really is-“

Morgana snapped. “OKAY, THAT’S IT!” he screamed as he leapt for Cu Chulainn’s face, claws outstretched.

It was at that moment that Lancer realized that he was going to die, and it was by something not human.

That night, Ren once more ended up in the Velvet Room. He walked out of the cell to both Igor and Lavenza, once more waiting for him.

“Welcome back, my Trickster,” Lavenza warmly greeted. Ren simply smiled and nodded at both of them. “You have finally summoned Servants. Their existences and power will greatly help you in the days to come. Not to mention, they will also be the foundations of your new strength. Already they are bearing fruit.”

Lavenza lifted the Compendium and opened the book. Amid the ruined pages was a fresh sheet, marked Cu Chulainn. However, there were two sides to it, which drew Ren’s curiosity. One side was the normal one he had seen before, with great physical stats and moves. However, the other side was more magic focused – fire in particular - with a much better magic stat at the cost of its physical capabilities. Lavenza pointed to the normal, more physically inclined one. “Please, summon this one, Trickster,” she requested.

Ren blinked but nodded. Lavenza normally never made suggestions which particular Personas he should summon so he decided to follow her advice. The girl smiled and waved a hand. Energy flowed from the page and coalesced in the air, eventually becoming the Cu Chulainn he knew well with a flash of light. This Cu Chulainn, Ren was more familiar with: Armored with a cape, a metal headband with long, flowing black hair. Then a detail caught his eye – and Ren’s eyes widened.

Instead of the regular spear, his Persona now held the blood-red spear that the Servant utilized.

“With the collective unconsciousness gone, my dear guest, we decided to focus on new wellsprings of power,” Igor elaborated, looking up at the new Cu Chulainn persona. “In this case, yours. Drawing on your memories and cognitions of Servants and environment, we used them to reinforce the existence of your Personas, bringing them forth with new powers and modifications. They will be more taxing to use than they used to be, but they are also far more powerful.”

Ren nodded mutely as Cu Chulainn turned towards him.

“I am Cu Chulainn,” he intoned. “Point me towards your adversaries, and I will tear them asunder.” With that and another flash of light, he turned into a mask that Ren pressed to his face. He could feel the sheer wild power of Cu Chulainn within him now, considerably heavier than how he used to feel. This would definitely take some adjustment.

Ren looked back up at the jail cell that held Olga. Igor followed his gaze. “We are funneling what energy we can spare to her,” Igor stated, answering his unstated question. “She is currently dormant. The irony, my guest, is that if the collective unconsciousness hadn’t been wiped out, her existence would’ve been washed away immediately before you could take action.” He looked back at Ren. “After all, you can’t find a single grain of sand among a beach, but if the beach was wiped clean, then picking up that grain of sand would be considerably easier, wouldn’t you think?” An odd metaphor, but Ren nodded in understanding.

Lavenza closed the Compendium. “Now, you best wake,” she said. “You will need to adjust to your powers for the days to come. But I have faith in you. I wish you well, my Trickster.” Ren smiled and nodded. He definitely needed to train for this, but hopefully this would give him the edge.

Once more, the Velvet Room darkened, and Ren knew no more.

Chapter Text

Leonardo da Vinci sat in her workshop, sipping tea peacefully. The workshop was an ornate work of art – beautifully carved wooden furniture lay everywhere, with many drawings and blueprints pinned on the walls. Every table had a blueprint or a project that she had been working on, with parts strewn about to be utilized when necessary. It was a cluttered mess, but it didn’t detract from the beauty of the room. Far from it – it had a tasteful elegance to it, like everything that was there was where they were supposed to be overall. And for someone like da Vinci, who was possessed of intellect and inspiration beyond most, and who often pursued new projects because she was inspired to, that was precisely the case.

In her other hand was a list that Ren and Morgana had sent to her this morning. There were quite a few demands here. Her amused smile lit her features as she read them over. She had expected perhaps some mystic codes. Or if they were ordinary people, perhaps some vague things like ‘something that would allow them to escape or survive longer’. But as Roman and her both saw, the two were anything but ordinary, and thus their requests were certainly a bit more different as well. They WERE requesting mystic codes, but they didn’t ask for them directly – probably because they didn’t know what they were after all.

But really – a large knife or short sword and a pistol that didn’t require reloading for Ren, as well as a cutlass and slingshot for Morgana? Various flash and smoke bombs, as well as recovery items? And a small workstation with some listed materials? She would’ve thought to ask if the two were expecting to fight as well but she already knew the answer. After all, she had seen the footage of Singularity F as well.

She put down the tea and list and stretched. Their magecraft was unique and powerful – powerful enough to actually combat Servants. However, that still left one great weakness, and it was a weakness all Masters shared in a Servant battle: The Masters themselves. Even the weakest Servant was a magnitude stronger than a regular human, with only an extraordinarily powerful Master putting up even a modicum of a fight against them. She would have to work around that. Normally, the standard Chaldean Master uniform worked well as a mystic code, but it was designed with the idea that Masters would stay on the back lines.

However, their style, their flair… She recalled seeing something in the archives a small while ago while perusing the information of the world, seeking new inspiration and art, or simply admiring how far humanity had gotten in terms of advancement and knowledge, utilizing much of her work as the base. They had collectively come so far since her time. Though very few were as brilliant as her, if enough intelligent minds worked together, then they could create wonders after all. That was one reason why she loved humanity so much.

Moving over to her computer, she tapped a few keys, opening the archive’s search engine. She sifted through her mind as to what she was looking for. Although her memory was prodigious, there was quite a lot stored there, after all. She had to comb through the information in order to find it. Where was it… Tokyo? That was the city. There had been some incidents in the past that were curious. It resolved in about a year though, before any magus really tried to pay attention to what was going on – which wasn’t all too surprising. The Clock Tower couldn’t give any less of a damn about Asian countries, seeing it as a sort of backwater. It was certainly a blessing in disguise.

She tapped a few keys on her computer, opening a folder marked for recent events in Tokyo. She scrolled through the various saved news stories – a considerable stock drop in some large burger chain, a new medicine discovered and was being synthesized, some new progressive politician rapidly garnering votes… Some started catching her eye. Psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns in particular, where people just suddenly lost control of themselves and either went on a rampage or just stopped working entirely, collapsing dead on the spot in a rather gruesome manner.

Then she started homing in. Coverage was surprisingly sparse. Perhaps the media was being suppressed? The archive wasn’t exactly foolproof. It covered many of the stories from major news outlets, but da Vinci knew all too well how prone they were to being interfered with thanks to local politics. She herself never dabbled in politics, finding them beyond tiresome. The most she did was gain the patronage of those in power, but that was about it. Even a super-genius had to admit that she needed resources, after all, and she needed funding.

Then there was finally a news story. A recording. It covered the election of the prime minister, Masayoshi Shido. What she sifted through told her that apparently this man was perhaps the pinnacle of what Japan needed at the time, with a strong decisive leadership that would see the country through troubled times. Though when she tried to dig into any policies, just out of curiosity, they were surprisingly vague. Da Vinci’s smile turned bitter. Well, that seemed familiar.

But just a couple days before his election, something hacked into the news networks and TV stations. A flash of red appeared, and suddenly a video belonging to one particular organization began playing: The Phantom Thieves.

Da Vinci’s eager smile widened.

Much of the day had been spent with Roman bringing everyone more or less up to speed – the disaster that preceded the Singularity, the Incineration of Humanity, and the fact that there were seven other Singularities to deal with. While Archer and Lancer were given some background info from the Throne, they were lacking in specifics overall. All they were essentially told was that some calamity befell the world and they were brought in to help resolve it. Even the Counter Force couldn’t do anything, as that relied on the collective will of a now non-existent humanity.

“What’s the Counter Force?” Ren asked.

Lancer glanced at Archer, who sighed. “The Counter Force is a part of the spirits of both the planet, Gaia, and the will of humanity, Alaya,” he explained. “To put it simply, they’re basically their survival instincts. When something threatens the planet or humanity, they act to put an end to it. Right now, however, since all of humanity is incinerated, Alaya basically has next to no power, if any, meaning it can’t enact anything.”

There was that term again – Alaya. It was the collective will of humanity? Was the Velvet Room part of Alaya then? Or was it more subservient? Why didn’t Alaya interfere with Tokyo? He wanted to ask for information but then he might be giving too much away. Moving on, he decided to ask another question. “Then what about Gaia? Wouldn’t she… or they… interfere?”

Archer shook his head. “No. Gaia’s Counter Force won’t interfere unless the planet itself that’s being threatened,” he pointed out. “And right now, it’s only humanity that’s in trouble. And frankly, it’s better if neither Gaia nor Alaya interfered – a Counter Force intervention from either of them would essentially be the ‘nuclear option’ – it would get rid of whatever threat was there, but it would most likely destroy much around it as collateral damage. Especially if it was Gaia’s.”

Ren’s eyes widened. Well in that case, it was probably better that the Counter Force hadn’t interfered with Tokyo then. If it did, then most likely the city would be a smoking crater by the time all was said and done. Maybe the Velvet Room was Alaya’s way of fixing things before the Counter Force was needed? Or maybe it was just some other mechanism…?

He inwardly sighed. The systems of the world were just as weird and complex as what he studied in class, apparently.

They also went over the particularities of the singularities – how there were seven major ones, all placed at the quantum timelock (whatever that meant), and how each of them most likely had a Holy Grail at their locations, their sheer power exacerbating and causing unnatural disturbances that made them singularities in the first place. They had at least gotten one Holy Grail, courtesy of Singularity F, and is currently being used to supplement the generators of Chaldea.

Speaking of, when Roman showed Ren and Morgana the Grail, Morgana more or less pounced on it, rubbing himself across it like an actual cat while mewing.

“Treeeeasuuuuurrre,” he purred out.

Roman, Mash, and the Servants just gave a confused look at Ren who sighed. “Yeah, he does that,” he simply responded with a grimace. It was apparent that Morgana still had his instinctual love for treasures, be they metaphorical Palace treasures or literal ones. Ren cleared his throat to regain Morgana’s attention, who came back to the meeting looking rather embarrassed and abashed – and to the shit-eating grin of Lancer who was very much finding his Master amusing.

Roman also went over the subject of Servants and Heroic Spirits more. What caught Ren’s attention was how every Servant summoned was essentially a copy that came from the Throne of Heroes. That was basically like Personas – aside from their personal ones, each Persona he used was essentially a copy brought forth from the sea of souls. Thinking in that term, he was surprised that there wasn’t more overlap between the Throne of Heroes and the Sea of Souls. But then, Igor and Lavenza had explained they were both parallel existences yet not.

But then, Ren and Morgana had to ask – did Lancer remember what happened back at Fuyuki? Both of them shook their heads.

“Kinda, but honestly, details are kinda fuzzy,” Lancer replied earnestly. “I’m not sure if being summoned in a different class or something messes with your memory but in this case, I only remember a few things of what happened.” He chuckled again. “Though I’m not sure how I forgot I contracted with the kitty – er, Morgana here.” Lancer quickly amended himself as Morgana glared in his direction.

“Same for me,” Archer added. “Unfortunately, I was corrupted by the black mud which interfered with my mental faculties. The only thing I remembered for sure was defending the path to the Grail at the temple, but that was about it.”

Ren blinked. “Wait, that was you?” he asked incredulously.

Archer nodded, then smirked in his direction. “At the very least, I did remember your unique magecraft – yours and Morgana’s.” He inclined his head toward the catlike being. “It certainly caught me off-guard, and it might catch other Servants too. However, I must emphasize that when it comes to Servant battles, you leave such matters to us, or at least have Mash around at all times. You are still a flesh-and-blood human, after all, and any Servant with half a brain cell will target you if they knew your magecraft could potentially harm them.”

Lancer chuckled. “Oh? Some high praise there, Archer,” he drawled, grinning at the red-cloaked man. “They gotta be if they surprised you that badly – your eyes went as big as dishes when you saw Morgana and his magecraft after all.”

He merely scoffed. “Once more, the black mud interfered with my mental faculties,” he excused himself. “As I am now, I doubt I would be unsettled as easily, unlike a certain Lancer who can’t over that their Master is a cat. Ironic, given that you’re a dog.” He fired a smirk at Lancer’s direction, who scowled and bristled.

“What was that, Archer?” he growled.

Ren thankfully intervened they came to blows, though Lancer was still scowling while Archer still had a self-satisfied smirk on their face. Morgana sighed. Was this what it looked like when him and Ryuji went at each other? It definitely felt annoying and strange seeing it from the outside. Maybe he should knock it off when things finally went back to normal…

Finally, the meeting broke and everyone more or less wandered off. There really wasn’t much they could do until the next Singularity arrived so the most they could do was familiarize themselves with Chaldea. Roman had pointed out there was a simulator they could use if they wanted to do some training as well, which Ren and Morgana both nodded. They both had their plans for it later. In the meantime, Archer wandered above the ruined hallways in spiritual form. It was quiet and empty, with only a handful of people remaining

He frowned. This was all that was left of humanity, and they had to save it in this state? Admittedly, his time as Counter Guardian came with situations more dire at times, but not very often.

Suddenly, a scent caught on his nose and he turned. He moved to the cafeteria – and more importantly, the kitchens. He blinked with surprise as he saw his Master there, cooking a large potful of curry. The heavenly scent of spices floated about, filling the air with a tantalizing smell. There was also the smell of freshly brewed coffee that mixed with the smell of curry as well, giving it an even richer aroma. Morgana sat on the counter, patiently waiting. Several of Chaldea’s staff was also there, including Mash and Fou, waiting expectantly for the food, much like dogs waiting for their meal.

Somewhere in another part of the facility, Lancer sneezed.

Archer appeared from spiritual form at the entrance of the kitchen to avoid scaring him, entering casually. “I didn’t realize you could cook, Master,” he commented, casually peering at his work. “That’s certainly a unique curry you are making. I don’t think I’ve seen it made quite like that before.”

Ren chuckled. “Well, cooking does help me calm down a bit,” he replied, stirring the pot. “The recipe came from my… guardian. He ran a coffee and curry café and taught me how to make it.” Archer noted his pause and caught the grief that briefly flashed on Ren’s face before he hid it once more. “Apparently this curry was perfectly designed to go with coffee, so it worked out pretty well for him overall.” He grabbed plates, filled them with rice, and ladled the curry onto them before distributing the dishes to everyone waiting there. He turned around and grabbed their coffee as well. All of the expectant diners immediately dug in.

“Oh my god, my taste buds are in heaven,” cooed one of them.

“This coffee is a lifesaver, you have no idea,” murmured a bespectacled one, his face a picture of bliss.

“Well, it’s fitting for a non-magus to have some skill, I guess,” commented a female one in a low tone, trying not to look like she was scarfing her own portion (though she ducked her head when Mash shot a glare in her direction).

Archer looked at the ones at the counter eating as memories popped up in his own mind – a rectangular wooden table in a Japanese house. A young woman with pig-tailed black hair, arguing with a girl with white hair and red eyes. Another young woman, prim and proper save for the sheer amount of food she was elegantly inhaling. A beauty with long purple hair, trying to calm down the first two, her shy mannerisms barely getting through. An adult woman with short brown hair, singing praises about the food as she happily ate. Then he blinked and the image was gone. He felt movement to his side and saw Ren was offering his own plate and a cup of coffee.

“Here, your portion,” Ren explained with a smile. “Didn’t think you wanted to be left out.”

The female staff frowned. “He’s a Servant, he doesn’t need food,” she pointed out.

Morgana, who had been quietly eating his own food, scowled at her. “He looks, talks, and acts like a human,” he snapped. “I think it’s safe to say his taste buds work like a human’s too. So whether he needs to eat or not is none of your business.” The female staff member turned to Morgana with a scowl, finished devour her food and coffee, then left without another world. Morgana glared at her as she left. “Really, the nerve of some people,” he grumbled.

“Let it go, Morgana,” Ren said, placating the cat as he picked up the empty dishes and brought them to the sink. “We still don’t know what’s going on, and it’s better we get along. We’ve a lot to do after all.”

Morgana just sighed as he went back to his food. “You are too nice for your own good, you know,” he muttered.

Ren smirked. Instead of answering, he looked back to Archer. “So, what do you think?”

Archer blinked, distracted by what just happened to eat. He took a bite and closed his eyes, measuring out the various flavors, trying to figure out the ingredients. “Hm, an interesting blend of spices you used,” he murmured. “Beef is very tender, the potatoes are finely cut so they’re easy to eat without dissolving. But I’m tasting… hints of apple and yogurt?” Archer looked over at Ren who beamed at him.

“Impressive! No one could guess it before when I served it,” Ren commented. “The apple gives it a sweetness and melds to create a mild, delectable flavor. The yogurt gives acidity, richness, and sweetness as well. It’s my first time trying to use both of them at once. I have to be careful measuring out their proportions or the sweetness might overwhelm the spice. I’m glad it worked well, though.”

The Servant nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. He quickly realized what Ren meant when he said the curry and the coffee were meant to go together. They enhanced each other’s flavors significantly. “Impressive,” he murmured, appreciating the taste and glancing over at Ren. “I don’t suppose you’ll teach me the recipe? I could teach you some dishes and tricks in the kitchen in return.”

His Master laughed. “Trying to figure out my trade secrets already?” he joked. With a warm grin he nodded. “Sure. The more the merrier, and I have been curious about cooking something else lately. It’s a deal, Archer.”

Archer matched his smile and nodded. Well, perhaps things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Damn, what smells so good in here?”

Well, barring a certain dog.

After finishing off both pots (again), the staff of Chaldea had left to attend their duties. Now it was just Archer, Lancer, Morgana, Mash, and Fou remaining, sipping at their coffees while Ren cleaned the pots and dishes. Archer offered to help but Ren refused, saying it wasn’t a big deal. It was a fairly quiet time, as if for a moment they could forget the fact that everything was destroyed. For Ren, he could pretend he was in LeBlanc again, if only for a little bit.

“Hm, this ain’t booze, but damn this is good,” Lancer commented as he took another sip. “I should treat you to some drinks, Ren! Maybe you could even use it for your curry, eh? With the odd ingredients and all!”

“I’m underage,” Ren called back. Granted it was only by a year or so but still. Nor did he have any wish to drink anyway. “And for your information, I sometimes use red wine when I make the curry. It helps tenderize the meat while giving it an acidity, richness, and depth to the taste.”

“Huh, is that right?” Lancer mused, taking another sip. He lowered the cup and gave a critical gaze over at Ren and Morgana, the former of which just took care of the dishes and put them to dry. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, is it?” he asked, his tone more serious. Archer caught on, glancing at his Master and Morgana to see his reaction. Mash’s eyes widened as she looked at Ren as well.

Ren blinked in surprise, then plastered on his easy grin. “Well of course,” he replied, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ve had to practice a lot of times to get the curry recipe right. My… guardian would never let me hear the end of it if I ever served substandard curry or coffee.”

Lancer waved his answer off. “Not what I meant and you know it, kid,” he growled. Morgana was facing Lancer with a serious look now as well. “I’ve seen a lot of warriors come and go. I know what fresh meat are like – sometimes they’ll cry themselves into a corner. Sometimes they’ll do everything they can to distract themselves. And a lot of the time, they’ll puff themselves up like roosters, either out of pride or fear. Especially now, with the fate of the world hanging over your head. You? None of that. You’re calm and know what to do. Sure, you’re afraid like any warrior facing a battle or war, but more importantly? You’re just tired, like you’ve seen this song and dance before.”

Cu Chulainn leaned forward, bearing a serious expression. “So, you wanna fill us in, kid? I’m sure you got some stories to tell.”

Ren froze, his expression melting into an unreadable mask. He glanced at Morgana who looked back. The answer was clear – whatever Ren decided to tell or not tell, he would support the decision. They already had this discussion after the first night. It was impossible to keep everything a secret forever, after all. They couldn’t hide their abilities, not with the world at stake, and their experience wasn’t easy to explain away. But neither could they just haphazardly tell everyone: Igor’s warning about magi hung over their heads and from how Olga reacted and what she told them, it held a huge amount of merit.

He sighed and gave a low chuckle. This time, the sound was far wearier, aging him what looked like an entire lifetime. “You’re right, Lancer,” he replied calmly. “Me and Morgana, we’ve fought a good amount of battles. This isn’t our first time doing this. Or even the second.” Mash’s eyes widened at that while Archer’s and Lancer’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “I’m not gonna say that I know how this is gonna turn out, because I really don’t. It’s way worse than what we’ve had to deal with before. And even then, we had a close group of friends and allies to help us. And right now they’re…”

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He closed his eyes briefly, concentrating only on his breathing. “Ren…?” Morgana asked gently.

Ren didn’t respond. He opened his eyes and once more stuck an easy grin on his face as his mask slid back on. “But hey, for me, I guess it’s business as usual,” he finished. “If I did it before, just have to do it again, right? We just have to keep gaining allies and winning. In the end, it should work out. That’s how it did for me, anyway.”

Lancer stared at him, his gaze hard, his red eyes meeting Ren’s surprisingly stern grey ones in turn. Finally, Lancer sighed, breaking the standoff. “Eh, fair enough,” he replied, standing up. “Just watch that attitude of yours. I’ve seen it before – right before the damn fools charged to their own deaths. There’s a place for courage and bravado, and then there’s just going through the motions to the point you don’t care anymore. Watch yourself, kid.” With that, he turned way and vanished in a show of golden light.

Mash just gaped at Ren, trying to say something. “Senpai…” she stammered. “I… you… that is…”

He gave her a tired smile. “Sorry, Mash, it’s been a long day,” he apologized softly. “Perhaps we can talk about this another time?”

Mash’s mouth snapped shut. She hesitated, then nodded. She got up from her seat and gave another small bow. “Thank you for the food, senpai,” she murmured before walking off.

Archer looked at the two of them, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

The two Thieves blinked at Archer. “Why… what?” the former asked.

“Most wouldn’t put themselves in harm’s way to such a degree, especially twice,” Archer noted. His expression was oddly blank, though his steel-grey eyes had hardened. “Some would even say you have little concern for your own life. Is that the case? Did you wish to be a hero? To save as many as you possibly could? What did you ultimately wish to do?"

As he spoke, his tone became more biting, bitter, gaining an edge that was pressing up against their throats. Already, it was clear that this was some deeply personal issue for Archer that neither of them could grasp fully.

Ren sighed. He might as well tell the truth – as much as he could get away with anyway. “A hero? I mean, I guess?” he began. “Circumstances kind of… forced me into the situation. We just wanted to do what was right in the end. From there it just… kind of snowballed, I guess.” As he spoke, the pressure from Archer lessened as he listened with a thoughtful silence.

“I just wanted to help people and stand up to injustice,” Ren continued. “So that people don’t have to deal with those who just take their power and abuse it. We got called heroes and we liked it but… our goal wasn’t to ‘save as many as we could’, as you said. We just wanted to give people hope and courage, to stand up for themselves against the injustices of the world.” Ren chuckled humorlessly as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not even sure in the end we did much, but I like to think so. I’ll stand up and do what’s right, and I have… well, had… people supporting me. It’s just a bit harder for me to do nowadays is all.”

Morgana just looked down at the ground. “And even then, is it really so wrong to help people in the end?” he asked quietly. “Our whole point wasn’t to save the world. Just help more and more people stand up for what they believed in. I mean, you’re supposed to be a hero, right, Archer? I’m sure you can understand that.”

Archer flinched at the last bit as he considered. They were heroes, yes, but of a different path. Ren didn’t walk a solitary road, and neither did Morgana. They had those around them that tempered them, kept them on the proper way. Their goal wasn’t to save as many as he could, like they implicitly knew they couldn’t. They simply helped those on their way of their own journey.  And moreover, their goal wasn’t to burn their life by helping others. They wanted to use their abilities to inspire others.

Some might interpret that as a world where everyone could have the courage to be a hero.

“No, I’m not sure I could,” Archer murmured, more to himself than to the two of them. He looked back up, ignoring the confused glances of the two. “I can take the rest of these cups. Both of you get some rest. As you told Mash, it’s been a long day, and you both need it.”

The two blinked and looked at each other. Deciding that they had been dismissed however, they simply took their leave. Archer grabbed the coffee cups that had been left behind and brought them over to the sink to wash them. He thought back to their words, of wanting to give people hope and courage to stand up for what’s right. Then he thought back to Lancer’s admonishment, of how Ren seemed to be just going through the paces as opposed to with any hope and courage for himself.

Archer could only smile bitterly as he rinsed the cups. It seemed heroism and hypocrisy still went hand-in-hand, after all.

Chapter Text

The barren ground around him was littered with swords. All from different parts of history, belonging to many wielders. Some unknown, their names lost to history. Many from notable legends and myths. Swords held by hero and villain alike all stood in the ground, their polished blades catching the gleam of the setting sun. He brought them to bear, giving them new purpose. For that was his prerogative with these duplicates, for as powerful as they were, they were all duplicates.

Yes, he was the bone of his swords.

He lifted himself, shambling as best he could. He was tired, bleeding. But that didn’t matter. After all, for one such as himself, it was of little consequence. There were still people he needed to save, that he could save. So he summoned his willpower and forged onward.

After all, steel was his body, and fire was his blood.

Through his hazy vision, he could see that from where he stood to the horizon beyond, it was nothing but blades. Yes, his blades. They all served a purpose for him, whether for a specific reason or simply as a weapon of destruction. It was an armory beyond reckoning. An armory he made.

He had, after all, forged over a thousand blades.

His journey had been one with ceaseless toil. He had discarded his past life over and over and over again. He granted salvation and aid to as many people as he could find, asking for nothing in return. People whispered at first in awe, then in fear and paranoia. Someone like him didn’t exist, after all, who was so generous. Someone so skilled in the art of war must have wanted for something.

For everyone, it seemed that he was unknown to both death and life.

They turned against him. But he didn’t care. They took their blades and some of his own and stabbed him while his back was turned. They betrayed him. They scorned him. But it didn’t matter. The pain was far nothing compared to what he had survived.

Despite everything, he withstood his pain to create all his myriad weapons.

But in the end, those whom he had saved didn’t value him. Those that had once loved him had disappeared from his life. As he was captured, his swords fell out of nerveless hands, and they were cuffed. All fitting in the end.

They were hands that would never hold anything worthwhile, after all.

As he approached the noose, he thought back to a time. It was in that power plant that he had barely managed to stop from melting down. The glowing ball of energy, so mesmerizing. He could hear its unspoken promise. Pledge allegiance to it, and he would have the power to save everyone. Pledge allegiance to it, and he would be able to forge onward to eternity. Pledge allegiance to it, and he would be a hero, unto the end of days.

And so, as he prayed, the world opened to him.

A world of infinite blades.

The infirmary of Chaldea wasn’t a grand affair – it looked like a standard hospital floor. Multiple gurneys separated by curtains, with a desk and a computer on the side. There was a supply closet nearby filled with gloves and various other medical instruments, and yet another shelf – locked both with mundane locks and mysteries – filled with various drugs. Roman was at the computer looking over some data as Ren and Morgana sat on one of the gurneys.

It had been a small while since Ren had his last checkup. Roman had meant to do it earlier, but with the disaster, the infirmary had been occupied by three victims, laid up with concussions and burns. Thankfully, they had since recovered and were transferred back to their own rooms to rest and recover. Now Roman could turn his attention to Ren and Morgana – the first matter for a regular checkup (especially important for Morgana’s case as he never got one when he arrived at Chaldea and they had no decent comparison data as a result) and the second was to analyze their magic circuits. The two were an abnormality in all senses of the word so it was best to check and make sure there wasn’t anything wrong.

As Morgana sat on the gurney, looking over at Roman, Ren wrestled with yet more memories. This wasn’t exactly a doctor’s clinic, but… when he looked up, he could still see a short-haired doctor, her coat on top of her punk clothes, handing her the newest sample of her medicine to try out. He would drink it and bear with whatever side effects might occur – often times dizziness or passing out, though later and later sessions, the side effects were less pronounced. And in the end, it all paid off – Takemi managed to make that medicine. He wondered if she got the chance to see Miwa-chan like she said she would. She invited him to visit her as well. He hadn’t found time to.

Then he blinked. Suddenly, he saw a young woman with curly hair resting on one of the gurneys. She was tired, with massive bags under her eyes, trying to make light of her situation. Two people showed up, demanding yet more money from her that she kept scraping up by working multiple jobs at once. Ren’s blood boiled and flamed as he heard their demands. They said it was ‘restitution’. Bull. They didn’t give a damn whatsoever – they just wanted the money. He managed to convince the young woman to stand up for it. More things happened but soon, the matter was put to rest, and she was able to continue her passion. He gave a small smile. Kawakami had been a great teacher once everything had settled down. He idly wondered what her classes were like now. Probably informative yet entertaining.

Dismissing his memories, he thought back to the dream he had last night. He knew without a doubt, that was Archer’s dream. Or was it really a dream? It felt too real to be one. Maybe it was something from his past. He gulped a bit as he thought back to their discussion last night, when he confronted the two of them about being heroes. As much as he wanted to ask Archer about it, perhaps it wasn’t the best of ideas. Poking and prodding about his past would probably only be stirring a beehive. He would ask later, or Archer would outright tell him. He just needed to be patient and not force it.

His mind was brought back to reality as Roman was muttering to himself. “Alright, I have your files pulled up,” Roman stated, turning back to them two of them with a smile. He still looked exhausted from overworking himself, despite Mash and da Vinci’s best efforts (and Morgana whenever he was around). Ren felt a bit of pity for the man. He was running himself ragged trying to do what he could for the mission, simply because it was the right thing to do. He wondered if everything went well, if Roman would be like he was on the first day, where he just relaxed and slacked off.

Roman murmured a quick aria as a magic circle flashed underneath them, with what seemed to be a scanning light focusing on their bodies. “I normally prefer to do things the old-fashioned way,” Roman explained with an apologetic smile. “But given what’s been happening recently, I probably shouldn’t take any chances.” Ren nodded, understanding. Indeed, everything about their recent circumstances had been beyond abnormal, and both he and Morgana understood their bodies had been fundamentally changed. It was better to be thorough than have some sort of complication later on.

Once he was done, he looked over at his clipboard. The data gathered from the mystery was etched onto the papers of the clipboard, providing an easy way of recording. “Let’s see,” he mumbled. “Your vitals look good, no internal issues. High amounts of stress, though that’s to be fairly expected.” He glanced over. “Do you have any trouble sleeping, by chance?” Roman asked. “I could prescribe some sleep meds if you need it.”

Ren smirked and shook his head. Between Morgana insisting he went to sleep as well as the Velvet Room visits, his sleep wasn’t any worse than usual. Which arguably was pretty bad, but that was the norm for him nowadays. He certainly didn’t need the sleep medication.

With that, he continued going over Ren’s medical information. Then he flipped a page – and froze. He flipped a few more pages and froze again, his mouth dropping open and left gaping like a fish. Ren gave the doctor a concerned look. “Is there something wrong, Roman?” he asked. He hoped it wasn’t anything in particular. They couldn’t afford it if he was afflicted with something utterly crippling.

Roman gulped. “According to the scans,” he said slowly. “You have about… sixty magic circuits. High quality ones. With your magic crest providing another thirty-five, for a total of ninety-five magic circuits. Morgana has about thirty-five circuits, and with his own circuit has 70 in total.”

The two Thieves looked at each other, then looked back up at Roman. “So… is that good? Bad?” Ren asked for clarification.

The doctor took a very deep breath, exhaling for a long moment. “Ren,” he began. “Most magi have, on average, twenty circuits. The amount of circuits you have, Morgana, is something you would only see in a lineage of powerful Magi families. And yours, Ren… said families would go green with envy and would probably kill you on principle.”

Ren paled as Morgana’s jaw dropped. Not too long ago, he was just an ordinary high school student who was simply at the wrong place and at the wrong time. And then his world was twisted in a thousand different directions, leaving him here, sitting on a gurney, with a magic doctor telling him that he was essentially some super mage, if what he interpreted about circuits was right.

Still, the fact he was given so many of these circuits when the average was so low probably emphasized just how bad the situation was. Igor would never have granted him this much power off the cuff if he didn’t believe Ren needed it. When he first started his Phantom Thief business, he was strong, yes, and only became stronger. It may have been a false Igor, but he was still granted the strength needed to overcome his trials. To be granted this much power…

Roman sighed and gave a rueful smile as he sat back down at his desk. “At the very least, it seems that your magecraft won’t be replicated anytime soon,” he commented as if it was some reassurance. “Mysteries tend to be weaker the more people are able to use them, and your mysteries consume so much prana that any other magus would probably collapse just trying to do one of those summons. However…”

He placed the clipboard on his desk. “I think Olga told you before, but I’ll repeat the warning again – do NOT tell anyone outside of Chaldea you just randomly got these circuits.” His tired eyes gained a new sharpness as he warned the two. “Just the number and quality of circuits you have without any lineage is suspect enough, let alone every other circumstance. And magi aren’t known for leaving well enough alone. For now, I’m keeping the information here under patient confidentiality and deleting it as soon as it’s safe to do so. You guys got that?”

Ren and Morgana nodded. At the very least, they understood the warning. And while neither of them were comfortable with sharing such information – especially if it might led to them being hunted down – they didn’t have a choice at this point. Still, perhaps they could put their trust in Roman. Ren particularly remembered many people whom he bonded with figuring out he was a Phantom Thief and yet never betraying his trust. He had a feeling Roman was the same way.

Roman nodded, a smile coming back. “Okay, good,” he said, relieved he got his point across. “With that, check-up’s done. You seem to be in good health, Ren, all things considered. I’m no vet but your signs also looked good as well, Morgana.” He gave a nod to the catlike being. “If you guys have any problems though, please, come to me immediately. I’ll do what I can here. We should have enough supplies for most afflictions for now, anyway.”

Morgana smirked. “We’ll hold you to that, doctor,” he replied as he hopped back down to the floor. “Don’t slack off with Magi*Mari now.”

The doctor’s face blanched as Ren looked confused. “H-How did you – when d-did you-?!”

The cat only snickered as he turned to the door. “Come on, Ren,” he called to his partner. “Archer and Lancer are waiting at the simulator for us.” Ren shook his head with a smile, standing as well. He gave a small wave to the doctor as they left. As the door opened, they saw Mash, who immediately started, blinking with wide eyes.

“O-Oh, senpai! I-I didn’t expect you here!” she stammered.

Ren smiled and shrugged. “Just needed a check-up,” he explained. “Doctor’s orders. You here for one too?”

Mash nodded. “Yes, Roman needs to check on my condition,” she replied. “We need to make sure there’s no complications of me being a demi-Servant. I can’t go on the field without being sure.”

He nodded, contemplating. “Hm, good idea,” he approved. “We’re gonna be in the simulator to train a bit with Archer and Lancer. Wanna join us when you’re done here?”

The shielder blinked, then beamed. “I’d love to, senpai!” she exclaimed. “I need more training fighting other Servants!”

Chuckling, Ren nodded. “Alright. We’ll see you in the simulator then!” With a wave, he walked off, Morgana following behind with yet another snicker at something he noticed yet Mash wasn’t sure as to what. She watched them leave until the door to the infirmary slid closed behind them.

Roman looked over at Mash. He could easily intuit Mash’s feelings for the most part, since he spent quite a bit of time with her. “Something wrong, Mash?” he asked.

Mash said nothing at first, chewing on her lip. She walked over and sat on a gurney with a sigh. “Lancer… said something odd about senpai the other day,” she quietly explained. “He pointed out that it wasn’t his first time in this kind of situation. Senpai agreed and… and said it wasn’t his first or even second time.” She looked up at Roman. “Senpai just looked so tired and sad. I… I don’t know what to do. It’s my job to protect him, and I trust him completely. But… does he trust us? Trust me? He sometimes looks and feels more like a Servant than a person. What happened to him?”

The doctor said nothing, lowering his gaze, wondering how to answer. “Whoever Ren and Morgana are,” Roman began slowly. “They’re what we need right now. Their magecraft and experience have been invaluable back in Singularity F, and it’s only going to get tougher from here. I know it’s tough, Mash, but I’m sure they have their own reasons for keeping quiet. But I don’t think they’re bad people. They probably have just been through a lot. If they want to tell us, they’ll tell. But for now, can you believe in them for a bit?”

The girl hesitated, then nodded. “The other magi are whispering about senpai too,” she added. “Talking about how he’s not a magus or he’s not capable of being a Master.”

Roman blinked then sighed. Of course they were. Even in the middle of an apocalypse, magi will be magi. “I’ll speak to them then, and get things sorted out.” Mash nodded and he smiled. “Good. Now, if that’s out of the way, let’s begin your check-up. Your signs are looking good so far…”

The training area in the simulator was surprisingly serene. It consisted of a large grassland with an open training field. Training dummies lined one side of the field as well as several benches lined on the outside. On the far side was a forest and within was a strong stream coming from a waterfall, with the water pooling at the bottom in a clear spring. It was a serene area, well suited for anything from training to sparring to meditation.

The two Thieves entered the simulator where Archer and Lancer waited for them. The two were a distance away from each other, most likely to prevent potential arguments. They both smiled as their Masters approached. “Oi, nice place you got here!” Lancer called out with a grin, getting up from a bench that he had been laying on. “So, we’re doing some training, right? How are we gonna do this? And, uh…” He looked over at Morgana. “I’m not sure how you’re gonna train like that. You said your form in Singularities is… not a cat, right?”

Oh. That was a fair point. Ren looked over at Morgana. “Think you can transform?” he asked out of curiosity.

Morgana frowned in thought. “Haven’t tried before,” he admitted. “Well, guess there’s no time like the present. Morganaaaa, TRANSFORM!” He leaped into the air and glowed as his circuits activated. With a poof of smoke, he turned into his bipedal form. “Huh. Guess it did work! I’m so awesome!” he exclaimed with a proud grin.

Archer blinked in surprise while Lancer just grinned. Ren however rubbed his chin, then asked, “Say, Morgana, if you could transform into that,” he mused. “Maybe you could…”

The catlike being immediately got the hint. He jumped into the air, glowed once more…. And nothing, landing back down. He shook his head sadly. “Nope, sorry Ren,” he apologized. “Guess that’s too much, huh?”

Ren sighed, running a hand through his head. He figured as much. He noticed both Servants looking at him in confusion. “Morgana can turn into a bus,” he explained shortly.

Both Servants blinked. “He can what now.”

“At any rate,” Ren continued, ignoring further questions. “Lancer, do you mind training with me? Archer, you can make blades, right? Can you summon one for Morgana and train with him?”

Archer blinked in surprise, then nodded. He hadn’t expected his Master to grasp his capabilities so quickly. Then again, perhaps he figured it out after fighting his shadow self. Still, that only led to Archer thinking about their conversation the other day. Only someone who fought no small amount would learn so quickly in the heat of combat – if they wanted to stay alive, anyway. More questions started piling in his head, but he shook them off. They weren’t relevant at the moment. “Of course, Master,” he replied easily. Looking over at Morgana, he summoned a smaller sword he could use. “Will this do?” he asked.

Morgana grabbed the sword and gave it a few experimental swings, frowning. “You got something curved? Like a scimitar or a cutlass?” Morgana asked, looking up at the Archer.

Archer considered, then smiled. On a whim, he decided to summon one of his paired blades. A larger curved blade which glittered the light like fresh snow. He handed it over to Morgana. “How about this one?”

The catlike being grabbed hold and gave it a few experimental swings before setting it on his shoulder. “Hm, a bit bulky, but good balance,” he commented. He grinned up at Archer. “I like it! I’m gonna see what you’re about, Archer, so I’m not gonna hold back!”

The Servant chuckled. “I expect nothing less from one of my Masters,” he commented, summoning the blade’s partner – a black curved blade, with faint red hexagonal patterns near the base at the guard. He held it at the ready as Morgana charged, Bakuya at the ready.

Meanwhile, Lancer and Ren moved further down the training field, away from the sparring duo. Lancer hadn’t summoned his spear yet, curious as to what his other Master wanted. “So, how are we gonna do this?” he asked curiously. “You don’t have a weapon that I can see – are we doing hand to hand, then? Gonna warn you kid, I may be a Lancer, but my punches can still knock you flat on your ass if you’re not careful!”

Ren laughed. “I’m not about to get into a boxing match with a Servant, thanks!” he replied back in good humor. “No, I need your opinion on something, first off.” He wondered if he should explain it to Lancer, but that would be way too complicated. No, it was better to show it in turn. He raised a hand to his face, imagining himself once more tearing off his mask. “Persona,” he intoned. With a flash of blue flame, the Persona Cu Chulainn appeared, his red spear at the ready.

Lancer froze at the appearance of his other, his surprise soon deepening into a scowl. “Oi, what is this, Master?” he growled. “If I honestly didn’t know better, I’d say you’re mocking me.”

The accused waved the accusation off. “No, of course not,” he replied. The drain on his body was a lot heavier than he expected – certainly heavier than Arsene. He could maintain it for now though. He needed to get used to it. “I just wanted your opinion on this guy. What do you think of him?”

“What do I think?” Lancer asked incredulously. He glared at the persona. “It’s like looking in a damn mirror. Well, more like looking in a mirror and seeing someone different, but you know it’s you regardless. If you ask me, this just gives me the creeps. And that spear.” He summoned his own red spear, whirling it in the air before planting it in the ground. “I can’t mistake it from a thousand miles away – that’s my spear, the Gae Bolg, in every way possible. Kid, what the hell did you do?”

Ren chuckled. “Sorry, but that’s my own little secret,” he replied with a small smirk, trying to hide the growing pain and exhaustion from maintaining his new Persona as his magic circuits burned. “Now, one last favor – can you go a few rounds with it, see how it feels and how strong it is?” At that, the persona whirled his own Gae Bolg into a ready stance. It was a slightly different stance than Cu Chulainn’s own, but they were still the movements of a skilled spearman nevertheless.

Lancer clicked his tongue as he lowered himself into a combat stance. “Well, if it’s basically me, at least I’m guaranteed a good match,” he grumbled, trying to find the silver lining to this whole situation. “Let’s go!”

With that, the Servant and the Persona charged each other. The two red spears lashed out, fast as the rain as they crashed against each other, thrust going to a block going to a sweep, patterns waving in and out as sparks flew from the impact. The expression of the Persona didn’t change, but as Lancer fought, his turned from a scowl of displeasure to a fierce grin. Whatever this damn doppelganger was, it was good! It was him, but not him at the same time! Much of the same spearwork, but just different enough that he couldn’t predict his moves! If he let his guard down, he would end up with a spear to the gut, just as often as he almost stabbed the Persona in turn! He was just a bit faster than his doppleganger, but the doppleganger was a bit stronger, and it was a bit better in handling from a defensive stance. Perhaps he should get serious about this after all!

That was, until his doppelganger vanished in another flash of blue flames, leaving the sight of Ren collapsing on the ground. “Oi, kid!” he roared, racing over. He could hear Morgana and Archer cry out as well, converging on their position.

Ren curled up on the ground, clutching his chest as he tried to force breath into his lungs. Everything hurt so much, everything was so hot. It felt like he was dying. It was like someone injected molten iron into his veins, searing everything it flowed through. He could barely hear the others above him talking.

“Tch, overused his magic circuits,” Archer growled. “We can’t push his magecraft any further today or he’s going to ruin himself. You’re done for today, Master. Rest.”

“S-Senpai!”

The three looked over and saw Mash in her battle uniform racing down. Her eyes were full of nothing but concern as she saw the helpless Master. “What did he- is he going to be-!” she stammered, trying to get one question out.

Archer sighed. “He’ll be fine, he just overused his magic circuits,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “That new magecraft he was testing must be a lot more strenuous than he expected. He’ll need more training with his circuits or he’ll just end up burning himself out. Literally.”

Morgana scowled and cried out, “Zorro!” His own persona appeared and rapidly tried to cast healing magic on him. Ren lit up with the healing power, however, it didn’t seem to do much. “Come on, heal!” he demanded, casting another healing spell. “Come on, why?”

“I wouldn’t bother, Master,” Lancer said with a scowl. “Overusing a magic circuit is like overworking your organs or muscles. It’s not the kind of damage that’ll heal so easily. Like what that bastard said, when he needs now is just rest. He’ll probably be good as new tomorrow. Though…” He grinned as he turned towards Mash. “There’s ways to speed up his recovery.”

Mash looked up. “Really? How, Lancer?” she asked desperately.

Morgana could only groan at the sight of Lancer’s grin growing wider.

Ren felt groggy and feverish as he came to. Everything – from his limbs to his torso – was sore beyond belief. Everything felt far too warm. His forehead had something cool and wet pressing against it. He was laying on something soft, with his head in particular laying on somewhere particularly comfortable. His eyes weakly flickered open as he took in his location. He was in his room again. It was very quiet all around. Morgana must be out training still.

The only thing that was different was that Mash was looking down at him in concern, though her face was a deep red hue. He could feel a wet towel on his forehead. He blinked a few times and recognized his position.

Oh. His head was on her lap.

“S-senpai?” she asked, her voice soft. “Are you okay? You overused your magic circuits so you were unconscious for a bit. We brought you here and had Roman examine you. You just need to rest.”

Ren sighed. “Oh, I see,” he mumbled weakly. He gave a low laugh. “Guess I pushed myself too hard again.” He hadn’t felt this bad in a long while. Even their most strenuous adventures in the Metaverse didn’t leave him like this. He truly was helpless, wasn’t he? He could almost imagine Caroline and Justine admonishing him for being so careless and weak. “Thanks for bringing me in, Mash,” he added gratefully.

Mash blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “O-oh, it was no t-trouble at all, s-senpai,” she retorted, her face becoming slightly redder. “Um… sh-should I leave so you can g-get some r-rest? Or…?”

He considered it, then shook his head with a faint smile. “No,” he replied. “It feels nice here. I’ll just rest for a bit longer.” As he spoke, his eyes slowly drifted closed once more, the comfort of her presence lulling him to sleep.

Despite her nervousness and being caught off guard by his answer, Mash smiled. When Ren slept, he looked so carefree and innocent. He no longer felt like that battle hardened warrior she had seen in the Singularity or in the cafeteria as he spoke to Archer and Lancer. She had to wonder – just what had he gone through to turn him into what he was today? When would he tell her? But she remembered the doctor’s words. She would be patient. And when he was ready to tell, she would listen.

Her hand went through his hair. She giggled. So soft and fluffy.

Chapter Text

The day came and went. Before long, Ren and Morgana were in the summoning room once more. The generator, now bolstered by the installed Holy Grail, could allow for two more summons. The next Singularity would be found soon so having as much man and firepower as possible was for the best. Roman had elected this time to stay in the command center, hunting down the singularity, while da Vinci was cooped up in her room with her projects. Both would be on hand if they were called, however. In the meantime, Archer had joined Ren and Morgana in the summoning room while Lancer and Mash trained in the simulator. If something went wrong, he would be able to defend the two of them.

Ren still felt sore and groggy from the other day. His temperature had thankfully gone down to more manageable levels before it could cause any damage to his body, but it wasn’t an experience he was willing to try again. Archer had made breakfast – a Japanese affair of fish, rice, and miso soup. That was a nice change from his breakfasts from LeBlanc, which was even more curry. He had thanked Mash for comforting him as he rested – though now the poor girl was having trouble meeting his eyes in turn. Teasing her was definitely somewhat amusing. Mash reminded him so much of Sumire…

No. Best not to think of that now. There were things that needed to be done.

Morgana had volunteered to go first this time to give Ren a bit of a break. As the summoning circle flashed once more, a new person stood there. A tall woman with long purple hair and a metallic blindfold around her eyes. Her clothes left much of her shoulders and legs bare, leaving little to the imagination. She was definitely beautiful, but in a different way than most girls Ren had seen before: A dark sensual beauty that was meant to lure in and seduce should he let his guard down.

“Servant, Rider. My true name is Medusa,” she murmured, her voice just barely above a whisper. “Command me as you wish, even as a sacrifice if you deem it necessary.”

“Hey, none of that,” Morgana snapped. “You’re in Chaldea, and no one’s dying or sacrificing if we can help it!” Ren’s mind immediately flashed back to a metal door coming down on a black-suited young man, but he shook it off. Morgana took a deep breath, then grinned. “After all, your Masters are Ren here and yours truly! I don’t think you can find a better pair here that can lead you to victory!”

Rider looked between the two slowly, appraising them before a small smile creased her lips. “What peculiar Masters,” she commented. “Does the fact that I’m a monster not bother you?”

Morgana and Ren chuckled. “We’ve dealt with worse,” the cat replied cheekily. “It’s good to have you with us though. We got one more summoning to do, then we can show you around the facility!”

Medusa nodded, stepping off the circle. She turned slightly towards Archer, who hadn’t moved from his position of leaning against the wall, seemingly not acknowledging her presence. “Archer,” she greeted shortly.

“Rider,” he returned just as curt.

Ren and Morgana glanced at each other before shrugging. Whatever personal history they had wasn’t any of their business, unless they wanted to divulge. Ren stepped up and performed the summoning ritual himself. There was another flash of bright light as another figure stepped forth. Immediately, Ren’s gut seized up in terror, dropping into a combat stance for a split second before noticing something was different.

The Servant was far different than when they saw her in Fuyuki. Instead of her white pallor, her skin was now a normal, healthy shade. Her golden hair glittered beautifully in the light as opposed to the pale, dead luster. Her armor was of burnished steel with blue engravings over a blue dress. And her eyes with a powerful, dignified green as opposed to the deathly yellow. The aura she gave off wasn’t the overwhelming darkness that they had felt before. Hers was powerful, but serene and noble. A king who cared about their subjects, who did all in their power so their realm would prosper.

“I am Artoria Pendragon, Saber class,” she stated, her words ringing out, proud and stern. “I ask of you – are you my Master?”

Ren smiled, not noticing Archer’s eyes behind him widening at the newest entry to Chaldea. He held out his hand. “That I am,” he responded. “Welcome to Chaldea, Saber.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight – all of you guys know each other? From another Grail War?”

Morgana had gotten right to the bottom of the matter of their interactions, looking between Saber, Archer, and Rider. They were all still in the summoning room, with Morgana crossing his arms as he looked between the three Servants. None of the three showed much reaction besides quiet contemplation at most (Saber) or disinterest at worst (Rider). “I thought you guys were supposed to be copies and didn’t carry memories of past Grail Wars?”

“It was a complicated thing, Master,” Archer responded. “The Grail War we had participated in was an… anomaly compared to the others. That may be why we retained some memories of it and each other as opposed to others. In case you’re wondering, Lancer was at that War was well.”

Frowning, he noted another point. “And I’m guessing that this Grail War was in Fuyuki?” he ventured a guess. “Because I’m pretty sure all four of you were there when we went to the Singularity.”

Archer smirked. “Right in one, Master,” he replied. “Fuyuki was where the Fifth Holy Grail War took place. It’s where we all met – or rather, where we all tried to kill one another. It was honestly a rather large mess, thinking back on it. That being said, we don’t remember the specific details – merely who was who in the War and impressions at most.””

Rider lowered her head slightly. “And with some Masters being more abominable than others,” she muttered.

“Regardless, we won’t allow whatever happened then to affect our judgement,” Saber stated, stepping forward. “We are here under your summons for the restoration of humanity. What grudges we had in the past are of no relevance from this point on. My blade is yours to command, Masters.”

“Well, when she puts it that way, it’s hard to argue,” the red-coated Servant sighed dramatically, shrugging. “As I said before, we’ll be under your care.”

“I will do what must be done,” Rider murmured. “I will serve as your will, Masters, in any capability you wish.”

Ren stepped forward now. “Alright, take it easy, guys,” he said, raising his hands. “If we have to work together, we might as well try to get along.” With an easy smile he nodded towards Saber and Rider. “Saber, Rider, it’s good to meet you, and I’m looking forward to working with you. Now. Let’s get going on that tour, shall we?”

Saber and Rider nodded. “If you’ll excuse me then,” Archer said. “I’ll check on Mash and make sure that Lancer is teaching her properly, as opposed to getting carried away and just whaling on her.” With that, he turned away, vanishing into spiritual form in the process.

After he vanished, Ren smiled at the two new Servants. “Shall we?”

With that, they went through the still-deserted hallways of Chaldea. Just like they had with Archer and Lancer, he set them up with living quarters (which Rider quietly protested, saying it was extraneous – only to be rapidly shouted down by Morgana who insisted she needed a good place to sleep at least) and then showed them the Command Center. Roman was still staring a hole in his screen as he continued working, with the staff all focused on their own duties as well.

One section that had recently restored power was the library. It didn’t see much use as everyone was too busy with their duties – Ren and Morgana included – but it caught Rider’s attention. Ren, Morgana, and Saber all noticed Rider getting rather fidgety as they walked past the bookshelves. “If you want, Rider, you can explore the library in its entirety,” Ren offered. “We can just head off and meet back up later.”

Rider blinked, then nodded almost imperceptibly. “You are very generous, Master,” she murmured. With that, she almost immediately disappeared among the bookshelves.

Morgana then blinked and looked at Ren. “Can… can she even read with that thing on?” he asked.

Ren opened his mouth to answer, closed it, then looked back at the direction Rider disappeared at, then shrugged. “She probably takes it off when she reads,” Ren explained easily. And if she was Medusa, then Ren and Morgana were both aware of her legend enough to know why they wouldn’t see her eyes. Ren would have to place yet another order with Da Vinci though. It certainly would be inconvenient trying to read when your gaze had the ability to turn people to stone.

Saber in the meantime just kept her expression neutral. She was aware of Rider’s Noble Phantasm and commended her two Masters for at least figuring things out fairly quickly.

“Now, next would be the cafeteria…”

All thoughts of Rider immediately vacated her mind.

Ren could only despondently watch as another plate was added to the smile pile. He had offered to make curry for Saber, which she eagerly accepted (while trying very hard not to appear desperate). So he made his usual pot of curry and offered a dish to Saber. She had devoured it in a flash and asked for more. And more. And more. Ren had to make yet another pot which vanished in Saber’s gluttonous maw.

Morgana just watched with his jaw open. He didn’t even get a chance to get his own share as Saber had inhaled all the curry. Ren didn’t even have time to make his usual coffee, despite his insistence that the curry went great with it.

“Hm, I must admit, this curry is delectable, Master,” Saber commented, daintily wiping her lips with a napkin. “It is not often I eat foods with many spices, and usually they do not agree with my palette. I commend your culinary skills and believe we shall have a most fruitful partnership.”

Said chef just smiled nervously. “Heh, well, I gotta say I haven’t seen someone enjoy my curry… quite so much before,” he replied. He had seen Sumire pack away food like nothing thanks to being a gymnast with strenuous physical demands eating up calories, but even she would be amazed at how much Saber ate. Ren also knew, however, to never, ever, EVER mention just how much she ate. He knew from experience one should never, ever comment on a woman’s eating habits if one valued their life. Ryuji had made the mistake of joking about how Ann, Makoto, Futaba, and Haru ate quite a bit during one particular outing.

He didn’t think the human cranium could hold so many bumps.

“So, I take it you’ve had enough?” Ren asked hopefully, taking the dishes.

Saber shook her head, smiling beatifically. “Oh, not quite, Master,” she responded with a surprisingly dignified air still. “There were certain notes to the flavor that I could quite place but would like to experience and identify further. I believe another ten dishes or so should be satisfactory.”

Morgana choked at that number as Ren paled. He didn’t mind making curry for others, but this was starting to get a bit too much even for him. Sojiro would’ve kicked her out already for the sheer amount she inhaled (well, unless she was paying, then she would probably be his favorite customer). However, behind the dignified, satisfied aura of a pleased king was the ravenous hunger that lurked right underneath, ready to be unleashed at any time.

As he debated how to handle this, he heard a chuckle from his side. Turning, he saw Archer smirking as he leaned up against a wall. “Saber has considerable appetites, Master,” he explained, not bothering to hide the smug tone in his voice. “It’s best you satisfy her. The wrath of the King of Knights is not something one wishes to bear, after all.” Saber gave a single nod of agreement, still expectant.

“TRAITOR!” Morgana cried.

Ren could only be shocked at Archer’s throwing him under the bus when an idea began to form. He calmed down and smiled. “Archer, hold up your hand,” he requested. Archer blinked but did so. With a smirk, Ren high-fived him as he passed by, walking out of the kitchen. “You got this, Archer!” he called over his shoulder. Morgana gaped, then started laughing uproariously as he hopped off the counter, following Ren as he continued to laugh.

Archer watched his Master leave. He wanted to call out to him but for some reason, he felt… compelled to stay here now. Like it was his turn, no, responsibility to cook now. And more importantly, he felt Saber turn her hungering gaze from Ren… to him. A moment later, the only thing he could give was a defeated sigh, slouching, before moving towards the storeroom to get more ingredients.

Damn you, Master.

Sitting in a small out-of-the-way alley in Yongen-Jaya was the café, Leblanc. A small, cozy place, the café was often filled with the smell of both curry and coffee, both lovingly crafted by its sole proprietor, Sojiro Sakura. The booths and counter were well cleaned and maintained, ready to receive the sporadic patrons that came by during a warm afternoon day. The TV on the side played current news reports, its sound filling the quiet air and at times sparking conversation.

Ren worked behind the counter, pouring out two cups of coffee. Wearing an apron and utilizing his knowledge, he belonged to this café. Sure, he got roped in from time to time to help out, but he almost never had a problem with it. His only complaint was Sojiro never paid him for it, but given that he had sheltered him throughout his most troubled year, it was only a minor complaint.

Once he was done, he came over and passed a cup to the café’s sole patron: A well-dressed young man with longer brown hair, his sharp auburn eyes watching his every move. The person who had both been a traitor and a friend, one who under better circumstances could’ve been a close ally or rival. The one who wouldn’t be seduced by dreams, for good or ill, bearing the pain of his life throughout it all.

The one he couldn’t save no matter what he tried.

“It certainly has been a while, hasn’t it,” Akechi commented, taking his cup. “After Maruki, I would honestly think that you could rest for a while. But your troubles never cease, do they, Ren?”

Ren scoffed. “No, they certainly don’t,” he grumbled, sipping at his own cup. “If it’s not a false Holy Grail and an illusory world where everyone’s wishes come true, it’s actual Holy Grails and different timelines where history’s gone completely wrong.” He sighed. “At least Morgana’s here.”

“Hm, true,” Akechi acceded, taking a slow sip. “You are truly capable, but even I doubt you could handle this entire manner by yourself. Still, the situation is rather dangerous. I wonder, Ren, if you’ll be able to continue on as you are.”

“What do you mean?” Ren asked, looking up at the former detective.

Akechi smirked. “While this isn’t the first time the fate of the world hangs in the balance, the stakes are drastically heavier now, with different enemies to boot,” he commented. He reached into his coat and pulled out something, something that froze Ren on the spot: A silenced pistol. Akechi placed it on the counter as if though he was showing an interesting curio.

“As you know, before I found any of you, I worked with Shido, disposing of his targets as he wished,” he continued, not caring about Ren’s reaction. “Oh, you and your friends condemn it, without a doubt, but for what I did and my own goals, it was necessary. I make no apologies, nor will I ever do so. My path had simply run its course, and I had made my decisions. You may call it selfish. I call it acceptance.” He glanced up at Ren. “What of you?” he asked, his tone curious. “If you were forced to kill, would you? Are you able to weigh the lives of others against your own goals? Servants are supposed to be disposable, are they not? Would you sacrifice them if it meant you could bring everyone back?”

Ren grit his teeth. “I’m not killing anyone, and no one has to die,” he growled. “That’s one of the things we all have decided on, otherwise we’re no better than our targets. Now and in the future.”

Akechi stared at Ren, then casually looked outside. Ren followed his gaze – and his eyes widened. Instead of the sunny, warm afternoon outside Leblanc, all he saw was roaring flames, consuming the world in an endless inferno.

“I look forward to your answer, Ren,” Akechi’s voice echoed. “Will the world be worth the blood you’ll have on your hands?”

Ren’s eye snapped open from sleep. His room was dark, lit only by a few LEDs from the monitor above his bed. The bed was softer than he expected, though it didn’t match the comfort of Leblanc’s, no matter how hard that one was. The only sound was the soft hiss of the air ventilation pumping in fresh air. It was comfortably cool in his room, allowing him to make full use of the surprisingly plush blanket.

But despite everything, Ren didn’t think he could fall back asleep. He slowly moved, getting out of the bed. He heard something stir. “Ren? What are you doing?” Morgana asked groggily from where he was curled up. “It’s…. 4 am in the morning.”

He smiled ruefully. “Just having a bit of staying asleep,” he whispered back. “I’m just going to walk for a bit.”

Morgana blinked sleepily. “Alright. Just-Just don’t take too long,” he murmured, yawning before curling back up and going back to sleep.

Ren pressed his hand on the panel, the door sliding open as usual. Morgana grumbled and shifted to face away as the dim lights of the hallway fell on him. Stepping out, he walked through the silent halls of Chaldea. Many of the lights were deactivated to simulate nighttime so people could adjust their circadian rhythms properly. The floor lights still illuminated enough so someone could still navigate the hallways easily if need be. His footsteps echoed slightly in the hallways. It felt even emptier than usual.

Coming to the cafeteria, most of the lights were off. The only exception was the kitchen, which was still fully illuminated. Ren blinked as his eyes adjusted to the much brighter lighting. Walking in, he grabbed some coffee beans from the storeroom and began to make himself a cup.

“I didn’t expect you to be up so early, Master.”

Ren nearly jumped through the ceiling at the murmured comment. Standing a small distance away was Rider. Her stance was relaxed, though it was hard to tell what she was thinking – he couldn’t exactly see her eyes, after all. Nevertheless, there was a small frown of disapproval on her lips. “While I know little of human beverages, I’m certain this one will not help you sleep,” she pointed out, turning slightly towards the coffee makers as emphasis.

He blinked, then chuckled sheepishly. “It soothes me more than you’d think,” he replied as he watched the coffee drip into the pot. The smell and taste were something that just stuck with him. It reminded him of his true home, a place he was far more comfortable in than when he lived with his parents. All his friends pointed out he smelled like coffee when he lived in Leblanc’s attic. It annoyed him at first, but he grew to accept it. Nothing wrong with smelling like home – especially when its coffee. “Would you like a cup, Rider?”

The Servant frowned again. “You are aware Servants do not require food, Master?”

Ren sighed. “Yes, and frankly, I don’t care,” he replied bluntly. “As Morgana said, you can think, talk, and act like a person, enough to believe your taste buds are probably like a person’s too. I think you would appreciate it, at the very least. Some don’t, but at least they can taste it.”

Rider hesitated, then nodded. Ren smiled and grabbed another cup. It wasn’t too long before it was ready. Pouring it out, he handed a cup over to Rider before taking a small sip himself, letting his tongue taste all the nuanced flavors of the brew. It calmed his nerves. The caffeine probably wouldn’t be enough to keep him awake either, given how much he drank overall. The Servant forced on the black, hot liquid, then took a small sip herself. She flinched slightly at the taste. “Bitter,” she commented.

Her Master chuckled. “Yeah, it’s like that for most at first,” he said. “You just have to take your time with it. Just small sips so you can taste the different flavors. I’ll admit, coffee’s not for everyone, but it wouldn’t hurt to try at the very least.”

She hummed in consideration before taking another slow sip, taking Ren’s words into consideration. It was still bitter as all get out, but she was starting to get some other flavors in there. Faint, but certainly intriguing. She would have to drink more to get a full feel of it. But perhaps some other time – the bitterness still stayed on her tongue like an unpleasant stain. What was it called? An acquired taste?

Discarding her thoughts, she lowered her cup. “May I ask why you’re awake, Master?” she asked, her voice barely traveling the room. “We do require you to be at your best, after all.”

Ren glanced over to her, then sighed. “Just… bad dreams, I guess,” he replied, smiling sheepishly at how childish that excuse sounded. “I had a lot of things on my mind. Fate of the world and all, as well as figuring out my magecraft and everything else. It’s a lot to handle. And…” He hesitated, staring down into the cup at his reflection. Even with how dark it was, he could see how tired he was, and it wasn’t from the fact he just rolled out of bed. “I guess I’m worried about killing people. It’s… not something I want to do. I haven’t killed anyone yet. Killing Servants is… different. But killing actual people…”

Killing Servants was surprisingly easier to justify than Ren had expected. He treated it as no more than killing Shadows. Shadows were surprisingly sentient, able to talk and negotiate as necessary, sometimes even beg for their life. Many of them were humanoid in appearance as well. If he needed to, he could press them for items, money, or their allegiance. Or he just executed them if they had nothing he needed. Shadows were just copies from the sea of souls, just as Servants were copies from the Throne of Heroes. Looking at it through that lens, it really wasn’t all too different except for power.

“The fact you are concerned about it says more than you realize,” Rider murmured. She turned her head to face Ren a bit more. Though she was still wearing her blindfold, Ren knew her eyes were directly on him. “You know of my myth, correct? I was a monster of the Shapeless Isle. I have killed many who have come for my head. And I’ve also killed those who didn’t deserve it. Sometimes, it was because I had to. Others, it was because of circumstances.”

Rider could still remember the faces of countless men, their expressions twisted into one of terror as she either froze them solid in stone or devoured without being able to resist. She looked down at the floor. “I did not have the luxury of choice when it came to killing, Master,” she continued. “But at least you do. If you are already agonizing over it, then you are more innocent than most would think, despite your experience.” She gave a small smile. “I’ve seen little of you, but I’ve observed. Your words, your actions, your mannerisms, and the other Servants at your call. You’ll no doubt take a path that involves the least amount of blood possible, if any. As your Servant, I will create that path for you as best I can.”

Ren blinked in surprise. He had just summoned Rider, but the support he was getting was already impressive. He chuckled, taking another sip. “Well, it’s greatly appreciated, Rider. I hope I live up to your expectations,” he replied returning her smile. “I guess I probably just have nerves about this. I’ll deal with it when it comes to it. It’s worked out pretty well so far.” Indeed, Ren had been thrown headfirst into his whole adventure a bit more than a year ago. More often than not, him and his friends just improvised and worked through whatever obstacles came their way. It got a bit cleaner when Makoto and Futaba joined and were able to plan things accordingly, but it had still been messy overall. But they overcame everything and stuck to their ideals in the end.

Perhaps he would be able to do so here too.

“If you are stressed, I can possibly help you with relief, my Master,” Rider offered. Ren looked over, blinking as he tried to parse what she meant. Then he saw the little sultry smile she had and paled. Wait, was she propositioning what he thought she was? Wasn’t that a bit forward of her? There wouldn’t be too much of an issue given she’s an absolute bombshell of a woman any man would settle down with – wait, no, there was still an issue! He opened his mouth to refuse when another idea popped into his mind.

“Actually, Rider, yes, there is a way you can help me,” he replied, relaxing into a small smile. That had Rider’s attention.

A few minutes later, Ren was laying on his stomach on one of the cafeteria benches as Rider kneaded and worked on his muscles. “I will admit, I didn’t expect this,” she murmured, a bit nonplussed as her hands worked out his knots around the shoulder blades.

“Don’t underestimate the power of a good massage, Rider,” Ren deadpanned, his voice muffled by the bench. “It’s far more relaxing than you’d think.” He thought back to those times Kawakami massaged him back in Tokyo. Her services each time were five thousand yen, but screw that – they were worth twenty times that much in his eyes. He almost cried tears of sheer joy when she continued to offer massages despite no longer working as a maid.

“I shall take your word for it,” Rider commented as she continued to work. She had to control her strength as she worked – last thing she needed to do was break his bones as she worked on him, particularly his spine. But he was far more muscular than she expected. Most magi didn’t really bother working out, especially one particular former Master who was far more bark than any bite. But his musculature was far different than what she expected. They weren’t just muscles one would get from exercising. No, these were deliberately trained for flexibility, speed, and endurance. Most regular people didn’t have muscles like that.

Still, she took small delights – popping his back elicited small grunts of comfort from him and working out particularly hard knots caused him to wince slightly in pain. A small smirk creased her lips. Seeing her Master in such a state was rather enjoyable for her. He was surprisingly tough too. But no, he relied on her to do a good job, and so she would. After working out the last bit of muscles on his lower back, she stood back up. “Was my performance satisfactory?” she quietly asked.

Ren got up, rolled his shoulders, and stretched. “Not just satisfactory, that was amazing,” he commented, beaming at Rider. “I’ll definitely sleep like a baby now. Thanks a lot!”

Rider nodded, the movement barely perceptible – as was her smile. “In that case, you should go back to sleep, Master. Should you require my services again, you only need to ask.”

He chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that,” Ren replied with a grin. “Goodnight, Rider. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She watched as her Master left the cafeteria after taking their cups to the sink. His dedication and innocence were something to behold. It reminded her of a certain girl a long time ago – one whose strength was hidden under countless tragedies but did her absolute best to remain strong. Innocent yet tempered at the same time. She had seen beauty in that and served her as loyally as possible. Just as he would serve her new Master on whatever path he walked.

“What a curious Master I have,” she purred as she vanished once more into spiritual form.

In the command center, Roman’s sleep-deprived eyes widened as a blip appeared on his monitor.

A Singularity had been located.

Chapter Text

Ren and Morgana marched through the hallways, with Ren withholding a yawn as best he could as he pulled on the jacket of his uniform. Mash had woken them up early in the morning, telling them to head to the Command Center as soon as possible – a Singularity had been found. They both almost immediately hopped out of bed and hurriedly got dressed before heading out. As they entered the Command Center, just about everyone had already gathered: Roman and da Vinci were front and center. Mash was there as well, with their four Servants in differing state of alertness.

Roman nodded, flashing a brief smile as he caught sight of the two. “Good morning, Ren, Morgana,” he greeted as cordially as possible. “Sorry to wake you up so early and abruptly, but as Mash told you, we’ve found a Singularity.” Turning around, he tapped a few keys on his computer. The fireball of CHALDEAS whirled and vanished, changing into a globe once more, with an indicator pointing out a spot on Europe.

“The Singularity has been located here – in 1432 AD of France,” Roman briefed. “According to history, this was the period just after the saint Jeanne d’Arc was burned at the stake.” That was a name both Ren and Morgana knew well enough, both from popular fiction and their history studies at school. The infamous Maid of Orleans was known worldwide for a reason. “It’ll be in the middle of the Hundred Years’ War, but this era is during the war’s respite period so there shouldn’t be too much conflict overall.” Ren had to hold back a snort. When was that ever true?

“We’ve detected signs of a Holy Grail’s power at work here,” Roman continued. “Your objective will be similar to what you went through in Fuyuki: Identify the location of the Holy Grail and retrieve it. Once removed, it will result in the Singularity collapsing and Proper Human History being restored, at least for that timeline. Mash will be coming with you, of course, and we can dispatch two Servants with what power we have right now. So go ahead and pick who you want to come with, Ren. Morgana.”

The two Masters considered the four Servants before them. Thanks to their capabilities as Masters, they could see the skills and capabilities of each of them, deciding on what they needed or didn’t need.

“We’re gonna need someone for reconnaissance,” Morgana started, crossing his arms (he had changed to his bipedal form for the briefing and mission). Ren nodded, agreeing. They needed to know the lay of the land first and figure things out. After all, it wasn’t exactly like a Palace where there would be a map laying around they could use. To that end, the decision would be between Archer and Rider. “Roman, think you can get us a map of the general region?”

Roman nodded, then said, “Yeah, of course!” Tapping a few more keys, a hologram of the area appeared. “This isn’t an accurate map of the Singularity, though,” he clarified. “We’re just using geographic data that was preserved in our archives.” The Masters looked at the hologram regardless. Largely countryside with not much elevation or raised hills… Well, that certainly made things easier.

“Archer, you’ll be coming with us,” Morgana said, nodding to the red-mantled Servant. “Your eyesight won’t be hindered by any elevation so you’ll see for miles around.”

Archer nodded. “Of course, Master,” he replied, getting up from where he was leaning. Rider made no move or answer, seemingly deferring to their Masters’ decision.

“We’ll also need a fighter as well,” Ren added. While Rider was very capable of fighting, she was better for hit and run strikes, not for full on combat. To that end, that left Lancer and Saber, both of them preeminent in frontline combat. Ren considered. This was new, unknown territory and they didn’t want to attract attention. The latter part was especially important. He nodded to Lancer. “Lancer, you’re up. Saber, your presence would probably attract too much attention.”

Lancer grinned like he was promised a good time while Saber simply nodded. “Of course,” she replied gracefully. “I commend you for being able to calmly analyze the situation and create a strategy to quickly.” Ren smiled gratefully. A compliment from someone like King Arthur was solid in his books. If he told the others that, their eyes would probably pop out.

If he got the chance to.

Before they could dispatch, da Vinci stepped forward. “Before you go, my giovane prodigio and gatto magnifico, I’ve finished your requests,” she said, a smile of satisfaction and anticipation adorning her features. “Please, follow me to my workshop, and let the super-genius da Vinci show you what wonders she made!”

Roman sighed tiredly at her boasting, giving the two Masters a long-suffering smile. “Go ahead,” he told them. “I’ll warm up the Coffins in the meantime and get everyone else prepped.” Ren and Morgana nodded. Archer and Lancer walked towards the devices, followed by Mash who flashed them a quick, excited smile first before following the two Servants. Ren had to smile at her enthusiasm. Still, going back to Middle Ages France? That would certainly be a unique experience.

Following the Caster, they walked through the hallways before they finally came to da Vinci’s workshop. Stepping in, Ren and Morgana had to gape at everything they saw. The entire room felt like something out of a fantasy – well, more so – with magical projects everywhere, with all sorts of blueprints, paintings, and drawings strewn about. Things they couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of as they moved through, doing their absolute best not to touch anything. There was somehow even windows with warm sunlight pouring in, adding a warm, comfy aesthetic to place.

“Yusuke would’ve gone crazy over this room,” Morgana whispered in awe. Ren could only nod numbly in agreement, still looking about in wonder.

“Ah, you’ve a friend who would recognize the genius of my workshop?” da Vinci replied, grinning back at them.

Ren blinked as she hooked his attention and nodded. “Yes. One of our friends is… passionately dedicated to art,” he answered. That was an understatement – it was more like he had sold his soul toward the world of art. Yusuke always looked for inspiration, painting and sketching whatever came to him from any source. It was exasperating at times (especially when it ate into his food budgets), but there was much to admire from that strength of passion. “I think you would’ve liked him, da Vinci,” he added, his voice dropping a bit in volume. “Art was everything to him, and to meet and work with an artist like you would’ve been a dream come true.”

Her ever-present smile softened with sympathy. “Then I look forward to meeting him after you reunite, ragazzo,” da Vinci replied kindly. Ren looked up in surprise, then nodded with a grin. Right. After the singularities were resolved, humanity would be restored, and he would see them again. Maybe he could bring them all to Chaldea – or bring people from Chaldea over to Tokyo. Yusuke would certainly like to meet with da Vinci and…

Actually, no, terrible idea. They would bounce off each other so much they’d create an art apocalypse. The world wasn’t ready for that. It never will.

She finally came to a counter where multiple items lay on a tray. The first was a knife. “As you requested, my giovane prodigio, your knife,” she explained. It was a surprisingly large affair with an oddly designed leather sheath. Taking hold of it, da Vinci unsheathed it. It looked fairly standard, with a black blade edged with steel. The blade was about a foot in length with an ergonomic grip. It didn’t look like anything fancy, but it would do the job. “You also requested a gun but I was thinking, ‘Trying to switch between one or the other would be tricky, and you don’t seem to me the type to use one in each hand.’” With a smile, she channeled some prana into the knife. It glowed and shifted, folding in on itself into a pistol. Ren and Morgana gaped.

“Well, you truly are a genius, da Vinci,” Ren chuckled, marveling at the weapon.

The self-proclaimed super-genius grinned. “I know, but it’s nice to hear it from you regardless, my dear ragazzo,” she responded airily. “Now, your gun can fire bolts of prana. It utilizes mana – the ambient magical energy in the world – with formalcraft absorbing and converting it for your use. I would say it’s about the equivalent power of a regular gun. Good for normal use, but useless against Servants.” She held up gun cartridges. “These bullets, however, are broken – oversaturated with prana. These will certainly be a threat to Servants, however minor. I don’t think I need to tell you to use them wisely.”

Ren nodded as he considered the possibilities. Although he stopped with his Phantom Thief activities, he still hit the arcade and regularly played the shooters there. He developed a taste for them after being trained so long. He had managed to set records on every shooter arcade game there with ease and up until now had been unbeatable. Shinya had been a great marksmanship teacher after all.

His smile faltered at the memory, but he recovered before anyone could notice. He took the offered gun and held it up, making sure to keep his fingers off the trigger. He poured prana into it – a practice da Vinci taught during a lesson in magecraft – and watched it turn into the knife form instead. The cartridge was inserted in the handle so there were no problems there.

Da Vinci nodded. “Good! Now, in gun form, you can switch between using bullets and not over here.” She had Ren switch it back to gun form and pointed to a small switch mounted on the side. “The neutral position fires the prana, while special fires the bullets. Simple, no?”

Grinning, he nodded. “You’ve really outdone yourself, da Vinci,” he complimented as he switched back to the knife form again, easily spinning it in his hands. Ren and Morgana had been worried – they didn’t bring any of their weapons along, leaving them either at home, in storage, or just selling them off. They didn’t have any use for them now that the Metaverse was gone. There was no way in hell they would bring any of their weapons with them to Chaldea, not with the very stringent security checks. Sure, the weapons were just models, but that hardly made a difference. And even then, they didn’t really have a reason to bring them. But even in the Metaverse, having a weapon that could switch between a knife and a gun was something that will very much come in handy.

The Caster smiled broadly. “Ah, that’s wonderful to hear, my giovane prodigio!” she exclaimed. Then her smile broadened as she leaned forward on the counter. “Is it comparable to the gear you used during your time as a Phantom Thief?”

The air around them immediately froze. Ren stopped twisting the knife in shock, gripping it now until his knuckles turned white as Morgana bristled. Arsene and Zorro were at the forefront as they started to flow prana through their circuits, ready to bring them out at the slightest provocation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ren replied stiffly. Already, he was calculating how fast he could get to the door and get out if need be. If they set Arsene and Zorro on her at the same time, it should be enough of a diversion to get out of the room. And then -

Da Vinci giggled, seemingly unconcerned. “For Phantom Thieves, you two are terrible liars,” she pointed out, amused. “Don’t worry, my ragazzo and gatto. No one knows except me, not even Roman or Mash. You merely reminded me of something I saw some time ago, and I decided to look into it. For a super-genius like me, finding information on the two of you wasn’t hard – especially when it was so readily available.” She walked over to her computer and tapped a few keys. Within moments, a video began playing. Ren and Morgana’s eyes widened as it played something incredibly familiar: Their calling card to Shido, courtesy of Futaba’s hacking. What made it a dead giveaway was Morgana’s inhuman silhouette as all the Phantom Thieves stood with their backs to the light, and Ren himself stepping forth, the light revealing his features despite his mask.

Morgana flinched. They had made a very crucial error in protecting their identities. They had forgotten that they were probably being investigated thanks to their experience and unnatural gifts and let their guard down.

Da Vinci closed the video, turning back to them with a more excited smile. “I looked more into your activities, the more I was impressed,” she explained happily. “From a lecherous high school teacher to a CEO to an upcoming politician! And I must especially thank you for exposing Madarame. That man is an insult to artists everywhere, and I wouldn’t even permit such a man to breathe the same air in my vicinity, if at all.” At the last bit, despite still wearing a smile, they both could feel a very dangerous aura creep into her presence and knew her opinion of the counterfeiter and exploiter couldn’t be any lower.

As she rambled though, both Ren and Morgana gradually relaxed, looking at each other in puzzlement. Morgana looked back up at da Vinci. “So… you’re not going to rat us out?” he slowly asked.

Da Vinci laughed. “Oh goodness no, my gatto magnifico!” she exclaimed. “If anything, I’ve become a fan of your work! Or perhaps a Phangirl, as it was called?” Both Ren and Morgana flinched at that. They certainly didn’t need the reminder of their fanbase, courtesy of Mishima and his Phantom Thieves website. It was useful for information and even helped saved the day more than once or twice, but that didn’t mean they didn’t cringe at it from time to time. Her smile settled into a gentler one. “However, I do suggest eventually talking about it to Roman or Mash,” she suggested. “They are both concerned about you two. Especially you, Ren. You didn’t have it easy, did you?”

Ren gulped. He wondered how much da Vinci knew, how much she had found out. Sure, she had realized they were Phantom Thieves and was able to follow their trail of targets, but did she know about what happened? Why he was in Tokyo in the first place, and everything that came after? No. It was impossible to know that, right? His criminal record was expunged on false charges, after all. She was already verging on dangerous territory if she decided to research how they did their work in the first place as well. “No, I certainly didn’t,” he admitted. A half-truth would suffice here. “I’ll tell them in time. But not right now. Not when we’ve a mission to accomplish.”

The genius pouted but nodded at that. That was as good as they were going to get. Moving on, da Vinci gave Morgana a metal slingshot that, like Ren’s weapon, could transform into a cutlass. She also handed him a bag of projectiles he could use, also broken with prana. “Now, I suppose I should tell you something,” she added. “I may be a super-genius, but sometimes even geniuses can be limited with what materials they have on hand. However, there might be more fantastical materials to work with in the Singularities. I’ll let you know if there’s something I can use to upgrade your weapons.” Ren nodded. That sounded good to him and Morgana.

The last bit of gear were multiple flashbangs and smoke bombs, designed to confuse even Servants unless they had some sort of detection skill. They didn’t get their workstation yet though – there just wasn’t room to make one. It would be a bit longer before a room was vacated and they could spare the materials needed. That was fine by Ren and Morgana – that part wasn’t a particular issue. They had the most important items on the list. Although speaking of…

“One last favor, da Vinci,” Ren said as they were just about to head out the door. “Can you fashion something so Rider doesn’t have to wear her blindfold all the time?”

Da Vinci blinked, then giggled again. “How considerate of you. Of course, ragazzo, so long as you tell me how your weapon handles. Now, better head back to the Command Center. Best of luck with the Singularity!”

Ren nodded, and with that, they left Da Vinci’s workshop after securing their respective weapons. Roman looked up at them and noticed their new gear. He sighed. “I would tell you to leave the fighting to the Servants but you’re not going to listen to me, are you?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Nope!” Morgana agreed cheerfully before walking past him. Ren just gave him a rueful grin as he followed Morgana.

The Coffins were extremely apply named: Large, cylindrical chambers meant to hold only one person each. They were designed to cut off power if the Rayshift success rate was anywhere below 95%, which was why nobody else had shifted with them to the Singularity after Lev’s sabotage with a bomb. Ren looked at them and sighed. Well, at least he didn’t have claustrophobia. Or if he did, it was more or less beaten out of him with the jail cell in the Velvet Room.

Mash beamed at him as he stepped forward. “It’s our first official Singularity, senpai,” she noted, looking over at the Coffins. “I’m a bit nervous.”

Ren chuckled. “Same, but I’m sure we can handle anything that comes our way,” he replied. “Especially with such a reliable kouhai coming along,” he further added, flashing a smirk her direction that turned her face red once more. He felt a quick pang of killing intent however and spun around. It came from… Roman’s direction? Who had his head buried in his monitor? He frowned. Was he imagining things? He turned back around and saw Archer smirking and Lancer throwing a shit-eating grin in his direction. Shaking his head, he called out, “Alright, let’s get moving – this Singularity won’t resolve itself.”

With that, they all entered the Coffins, the doors sealing in as the interior began to light up.

Unsummon Program start.

Spiritron Conversion start.

Rayshift starting in 3, 2, 1…

All procedures cleared.

Grand Order commencing operation.

With that, there was a flash of light, a whirlwind of energy, and Ren once more saw nothing.

First Singularity – AD 1431, Hundred Years’ War of the Evil Dragons: Orleans

When they came to, Ren blinked. They were standing on a verdant countryside with a mild sun bearing down on them. A bird chirped in the distance. He looked about. All around, it almost seemed to be an idyllic place. He couldn’t recall ever visiting such a place. Even in parks, everything felt ‘developed’ – concrete paths and fences, rented boats out on the water, with nature strategically planned and developed to whatever the architect wanted. But here, it just felt… peaceful.

“Fou, fou!”

Ren blinked as he saw a white ball of hair dart past him and settle on Mash’s shoulder, who also appeared nearby, drinking in the scenery. “Oh, Fou, did you sneak with us as well?” she asked, smiling as she pet the little creature. She looked back at Ren. “This is the first time we’ve officially rayshifted with the Coffins,” she noted. “It seems there are no complications or physical anomalies. Are you okay, senpai? Morgana?”

Ren nodded in affirmation. He looked about and saw the two Servants nearby as well. “All okay over there?” he called over.

Lancer shrugged. “No problems here, Master. Just kinda bored.”

“Um, guys?” Morgana called out. He had been first to notice it since he had to look up at everyone else, and as a corollary, the sky. “Look up.”

They all blinked in surprise and looked up – and saw a gigantic ring of light in the sky. Ren’s watch beeped as Roman came through. “Ah, finally got through, with a video feed too!” he exclaimed with relief. “Hm? What are you guys all looking… at…” Roman’s eyes widened. “What kind of phenomenon – no, it’s magecraft,” he murmured, typing away at his computer. “I’ve found no records of such a thing happening in 1431… damn. Ren, Morgana, Mash. We’ll analyze it on our end. See if you can find a leyline to set up base. After that, try to contact the locals here. We’ll upload a translation program now so you won’t have to deal with the language barrier.”

Ren looked back down and nodded. While he was passable enough in English, he certainly didn’t speak a lick of French.

“Masters, hate to interrupt but we’ve a problem,” Archer said. He had already climbed a small hill to look about. He pointed in a direction. “There’s a fort over there under siege. I can already see skeletons fighting with human soldiers over there.” Morgana’s eye’s widened as he ran up to meet Archer. He squinted his eyes as he looked at where Archer was pointing. “Wow, I can see the fort and the fight, but not much else,” Morgana commented. Then he frowned. “Still, we can’t just hang around here. Joker, what do you think we should do?”

Ren didn’t even hesitate. “Archer, Lancer, go ahead of us and provide backup to the soldiers,” he commanded. “Mash, stick with us. We’ll be right behind you.” Breaking up the group was probably a bad idea, but there weren’t any other hostiles detected, and the people there needed the help immediately. It wasn’t that far a distance to travel after all, and if they were ambushed, Mash, Ren, and Morgana could take care of themselves until the other two made their way back.

Lancer grinned. “Alright, just don’t complain we’re not leaving any for you!” he shouted. He lowered himself into a track runner’s start, then took off, leaving only a gust of wind and a small cloud of dust. Archer gave a small sigh. “I’ll find a better vantage point first and provide cover fire,” he explained before he went into spiritual form.

Ren, Morgana, and Mash looked at each other and nodded. “Let’s go,” Ren ordered. With that, they began running towards the fort. It wasn’t too far away, but even a few feet felt too far for Ren. He dearly wished that Morgana could turn into a bus, but with how cognitions were at the moment, it just wasn’t possible. Besides, he doubted the people of Medieval France could even conceive of a cat turning into a bus – they weren’t aware of what a bus even was to begin with.

As they approached, they could see signs of combat more clearly – the flash of Lancer’s spear as he weaved through combat, soldiers struggling against skeletons, and numerous arrows sailing down from somewhere, rapidly picking off groups or strays. When they got closer, they could see that the soldiers had been struggling, given the trail of dead bodies they were forced to leave behind, but the presence of Archer and Lancer were able to easily turn the tide. As Ren saw the dead bodies, he swallowed back the bile that rose in the back of his throat. He had been too late by just minutes. Could he have saved them if he was faster?

Still, there was little time to think about that. Moving quickly, they approached the rear of one of the last contingents of skeletons. Ren unsheathed his knife as Morgana took out his cutlass and Mash summoned her shield. Charging in, Ren cut through a skeleton, his knife cutting through with only token resistance to the bones. Morgana leapt up and cut off a skeleton’s head while Mash smashed through yet another. The skeletons were slow to turn, too slow before the three mowed through the group without much of a hassle. Before they could retaliate, another swarm of arrows came down, destroying the few remaining stragglers.

“Huh, guess I left you some after all!” Lancer commented cheerfully, meeting back up with them. He wasn’t even breathing hard at all from racing to the fort and fighting off skeletons. Ren and Morgana had to catch their breath a bit. Servants were certainly a different breed altogether than they expected.

Archer reappeared by their side from spiritual form shortly thereafter. “For now, no further enemy presences, Master,” he reported.

Ren smiled and nodded to both of them gratefully. “Good work, guys,” he responded. Straightening up, he looked over at the soldiers. Many of them had their spears pointed to the group, though their grips were shaking. He gulped. There were only a handful of soldiers left – it would be far too easy for anyone to just mow them down or rush past them if they wanted to.

“W-Who are you?” one of the soldiers fearfully called out. “A-Are you English? Or are you the D-Dragon Witch’s minions?!”

They all looked at each other. Mash stepped forward. “Greetings,” she called out. Her shield was gone and her hands were up – the universal sign of non-aggression. “We’re travelers and protectors. We only wish to know what’s happening during this time. Who is this Dragon Witch?”

Another soldier narrowed his eyes. “Travelers and – Lies! You want to get into our good graces and kill us, don’t you? Why else would you be wielding a cursed spear and accompanied by a demon cat?!”

Mash blinked in surprise and looked over. Lancer glanced at his Gae Bolg and just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Morgana’s mouth dropped and he lost his temper. “I’m not a demon cat!” he roared back, jumping in a fury. “I’m just the most amazing cat you’ll ever see!” Meanwhile, Ren and Archer were both mastering their expressions as best they could, despite growing exasperation. Already, diplomacy and negotiations were breaking down, and in one of the most annoying ways possible.

Before Mash could respond, a roar sounded out in the distance, immediately catching everyone’s attention. Archer frowned as he summoned his twin blades once more, Lancer whirled his spear into a ready stance, and Mash summoned her shield back to her.

The soldiers were not nearly so composed, stepping back as their grip on their weapons quivered. One even dropped his spear. “Th-they’re coming!” one stammered out. “They ARE th-the D-Dragon Witch’s m-minions, they b-brought her c-creatures right t-to us!”

Ren gritted his teeth. He almost had enough of this when another figure suddenly raced forth. A woman with beautiful golden hair raced forth, adorned in armor. In her hand was a flagpole with the flag itself unfurled, a spearhead mounted on the tip. “Douse yourselves in water to avoid their fire breath!” she barked out. Her pure voice rang out like steel through the air. “You there,” she pointed to the soldier with soldier who dropped his spear. “Pick up your weapon! Brave soldiers of France, with me!” The soldiers looked at each other, but frankly, having someone take the front and leading them was better than dealing with this themselves or just running when they could be picked off.

Before any of them could ask who she was, a small group of wyverns plunged down from the air. They were about twice the size of an average man, their eyes ravenous for another meal. They swooped down, talons extended, seeking to grab a meal. The woman swung her flagpole up, knocking the wyvern out of the air and sending it crashing to the ground. Archer threw two pairs of his curved blades, the swords arcing through the air as they spun, burrowing themselves into the belly and wings of another swooping wyvern. Lancer in turn threw his spear, the weapon speeding out and burrowing itself in the throat of one coming right for him. Jumping aside, he held out his hand as the spear dislodged itself and flew right back to him.

“Archer, Lancer, kill and thin them out as much as you can!” Ren shouted. “Mash, Morgana, with me – we need to protect those soldiers!”

“Yes, senpai!”

“You got it, Joker!”

The wyvern the young woman had knocked to the ground unsteadily got back to its feet, glaring murderously at her. It reared its breath and fired a jet of flame. The woman’s eyes widened. She could dodge the flames, but the soldiers were right behind her. If she moved –

The dilemma was rapidly solved with Mash moving in between, her shield blocking the flames as they splashed around the metal. Ren and Morgana took a flank each, their gun and slingshot firing. Their shots bounced off the wyvern’s scales with little effect besides making it irritated. Ren amended his aim and fire again – and scored a clean shot at the wyvern’s eye. The creature roared in pain as its eye was put out, turning in rage towards Ren and charging. His eyes widened as he jumped out of the way, a claw barely missing him.

“Senpai!” Mash cried out in terror. She charged forward, lifting her shield as a claw meant for Ren smashed down, gritting her teeth as the claws scraped against the metal. Morgana moved in, his cutlass carving a bloody furrow on the wyvern’s wing before jumping back, causing the beast to once more roar in pain. His eyes widened as the wyvern prepared to breathe fire. Mash was just a bit too far away to protect him as Ren raised his gun –

A rank of spearmen closed in, thrusting at the wyvern’s unprotected backside. It roared in pain, its aim thrown off and causing a gout of fire to veer wildly off course. The young woman earlier charged in past Mash, smashing her flag down on the wyvern’s head. Mash moved in after her and gave it no time to recover bashing it with her shield in turn. Ren and Morgana ran about, providing a distraction with covering fire as Mash and the woman fought. Before long, it was dealt with, with the young woman driving her spear into the wyvern’s head.

Ren looked around. The other wyverns had been dealt with by Archer and Lancer, neither of them worse for wear. The soldiers were still wary but they didn’t raise their spears at them this time. The young woman breathed a sigh of relief. “Praise be to Him I was in time,” she murmured. She looked up at the group and gave a grateful smile. “You have my thanks, travelers, for protecting my people. Might I have your name?”

He blinked, then met her smile with one of his own. “I’m Ren Amamiya,” he introduced himself. “The one with the shield is Mash, and that’s Morgana. The other two are our companions, Archer and Lancer.” The young woman’s eyes widened slightly at the names but didn’t comment on it. “And you are?”

The young woman smiled. “I am Jeanne d’Arc. Please to make your acquaintance.”

Chapter Text

“I-It’s her! The Dragon Witch!”

Ren blinked as he looked at the soldiers, all of whom were shrinking with fear at Jeanne. Morgana frowned at them and yelled, “Hey, what’s the big idea?! She just helped save your butts from those wyverns and that’s how you act?! If she’s really the Dragon Witch, do you think she’d bother?!”

The soldiers didn’t falter, holding up their spears still menacing the group. “D-do you really think we’d b-believe that?!” the soldier in front demanded. “She could just b-be f-fooling us and have us l-lower our g-guards! W-we know wh-what you’ve done. Y-you’ve c-consorted with the D-Devil and c-came back from the d-dead, killed the king with hellfire a-and butchered Orleans! Y-you’re nothing more th-than a demon!”

That caused Ren, Mash, and Morgana to gape at Jeanne. Nothing about any of what the man said added up. Even discarding the Servant in front of them, the Jeanne d’Arc in recorded history was well-known for her love and passion for France, leading its people against the English. Not to mention, as Ren recalled, the king was someone that Jeanne personally had helped raise to the throne. These actions may make sense if it was in revenge, perhaps, but massacring innocent people? That didn’t make sense.

The Ruler didn’t even raise a protest and just smiled sadly. “It’s fine, I can understand how it looks,” she murmured. “We’ve helped how we could. Please, follow me – I’d like to speak with you, and we should probably do so away from these men.” She began walking into the nearby forest, leaving the small group to look at each other.

Ren sighed. “She doesn’t seem like a bad person overall,” he finally said. “Besides, we need information anyway. Probably better to follow her. Besides, if something happens, Archer, Lancer, Mash, I think you guys will have it covered.”

Morgana hesitated, then nodded, as did the Servants. They trusted Ren’s judgement. That being said, as they walked after her, Morgana and Mash were by Ren’s side. Lancer moved a small distance behind, his bored expression belied by the fact that his eyes were darting about, looking for any threats, as well as the fact his spear was resting on his shoulder. Archer was much the same, a slightly further distance away. All in all, the group looked rather casual walking about, but it was a formation that would allow them to be ready at a moment’s notice.

The sun was setting as they walked, with the promise of dusk in the very near future. Jeanne stopped at a small forest clearing. “Here should be good,” Jeanne noted. Her flag was gone. Turning around, she smiled and bowed to them. “Allow me introduce myself once more,” she said. “I am Jeanne d’Arc, a Ruler class Servant. I’ve only manifested a few hours before to aid France, but it seems my summoning was interfered with in some way – my stats are at least a full rank lower and I’m lacking many abilities I should have as a Ruler, like my command seals and the ability to discern true names from Servants.” She looked between Lancer and Archer. “For instance, I only know your classes, but I have no inkling as to your true names.”

Ren blinked and looked at his companions. “Ruler class Servants?” he asked.

“Certain Servants are summoned as arbiters of a Holy Grail War if it becomes either stalemated or grows much larger than just seven Servants,” Archer supplied. “They are typically considerably stronger than most Servants in other classes and come with their own command seals that are useable on any Servant in that Grail War, as well as the ability to discern their true names immediately. Having one on our side normally would be a major advantage for us, but as she is now…”

Jeanne flinched as Archer’s eyes flicked towards her. “Yes, I’m not as strong or capable as I should be,” she admitted ruefully. “However, my dedication to my country and home has not wavered in the slightest, no matter what challenges there may be. This may not be a typical Holy Grail War I’ve been summoned to, but I won’t let such trials bar me from saving my people and land.” Jeanne’s eyes glimmered with pure determination and passion. She had meant every word she had said, decreased strength and capabilities be damned – perhaps literally.

Ren just chuckled. “In that case, I think we’ll get along,” he replied easily. “We’re with Chaldea. Our job right now is to preserve human history by dealing with whatever’s causing the disturbance. I’m Ren Amamiya, one of the Masters. This is Mash, our Shielder Demi-Servant.”

The Ruler looked over at Mash and blinked. “Shielder? Demi-Servant?” she asked for clarification.

Mash summoned her shield as emphasis. “A human bearing a heroic spirit,” she explained. “The Shielder class is a new designation as we have no information currently about the heroic spirit itself. I’m not even sure what’s my Noble Phantasm.” The last part was said more quietly. The fact that she didn’t know her heroic spirit or her Noble Phantasm still disturbed her. She was strong, but she wasn’t as strong as she could be, and therefore didn’t know if she was strong enough.

Jeanne gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry I can’t help in that regard,” she told the girl. “But you are a kind woman, Mash, with an earnest dedication to your Master and doing what’s right. Whatever heroic spirit that dwells within you must be as noble as your heart, with strength to match.”

The Shielder looked up blinking, then beamed happily and nodded. “Thank you for your kind words, Madamoiselle Jeanne!” she chirped.

“J-Just call me Jeanne,” Jeanne stammered out, her face coloring pink in embarrassment. “I’m merely a peasant girl. No need for such formalities!”

Ren just looked between the two with a smile. He cleared his throat to get Jeanne’s attention once more. “Anyway, as we said earlier, that’s Archer and Lancer over there.” He jerked his thumb in their direction. “I’ll leave it to them if they wanna introduce themselves or not.”

Lancer grinned, whirling his spear before it vanished. “Ah what the hell,” he said casually with a shrug. “Not every day you get to meet a Saint. Cu Chulainn. Nice to meet ya!”

Archer smirked. “I will refrain,” he replied. “It is better for me to keep my identity a secret, else my combat effectiveness is compromised.” Lancer just rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath about how Archer probably had a sword summoned up his ass. A statement that Archer completely and utterly ignored.

Jeanne noticed something – the fact that Morgana was staring at her extremely hard. But she ignored that fact for one small detail. “Um… Morgana, if I may be so bold to ask,” she asked hesitantly. “May… may I pet you?”

That caught everyone off guard. “Er, what?” said cat asked, startled out of his reverie.

“It’s just… you are very adorable, and I’ve not had much of a chance to pet cats in my village or during my campaigns,” she explained shyly. “So, may I ask if I can pet you?”

Morgana looked flabbergasted for a second, then he saw the hope dancing in Jeanne’s eyes. He sighed in resignation and slumped. “Go ahead,” he wearily replied. Jeanne grinned happily, reached over, and began petting the inhuman yet still adorable catlike being. Morgana couldn’t help but purr in response. Another set of hands joined in to pet him. He opened his eyes and saw that Mash had succumbed to temptation and was petting his soft, luxurious fur as well.

Meanwhile, Ren frowned slightly. He noticed Morgana was staring hard at Jeanne earlier – not in suspicion, but perhaps recognition. Now that he thought about it, Jeanne did look familiar. But where had he seen a young, beautiful looking young woman with blonde hair before…? Then suddenly, the pieces clicked. He tapped his watch to connect to Roman, who was focusing on his monitor on something. “Hey, Roman? You still have a video feed, right?” Ren asked. “Is Saber available?”

Roman on the other side blinked. “Er, yeah. Why do you –“ He looked closer at the radio feed, squinting… then his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, she should be available. Give me a second…” He disappeared from the monitor for a second.

A minute or so later, Saber appeared. “Master, is something the matter?” she asked, concerned.

Ren wordlessly turned the display to Jeanne, who had looked up from petting Morgana in curiosity. Saber stared at Ruler, who in turned stared at Saber. Everyone – Ren, Mash, Morgana, Lancer, and Archer - looked between the two Servants back and forth like it was a tennis match as the realization slowly sunk in: That the two Servants – the English king and the French saint – looked exactly the same.

“WHAT DEVILRY IS THIS?!”

There was no small discussion (read: dismayed and confused shouting) from both sides: Accusations of an imposter, perhaps amnesiac identities, extremely distant relatives, or being possessed by some spirit that gave them the same appearance. For the latter, Roman theorized the spirit’s name started with a ‘T’ though he couldn’t quite remember, which everyone dismissed it as rather fanciful thinking even by their standards, much to his dismay. However, once the more hysterical and heated arguments died down, Saber and Ruler got along surprisingly well.

“Your dedication to your people is most admirable, Ruler,” Saber complimented, smiling. “It is a shame they cannot see that. However, I do not doubt that without your strength of character, the country of France would stand so proudly as it does today. Take pride in that.”

“O-Oh, you flatter me, y-your majesty,” Jeanne hurriedly waved off. “I am simply a peasant girl w-who was blessed to hear His will and was chosen to see it through. People rallied around me, and I granted what succor and strength I could. You, however, are the King of Knights: The standard of chivalry for all. You are what many knights aspire to, and I believe would be for the good of all.”

Ren yawned from his seat against the tree as they continued talking. Saber and Ruler had found a lot of commonalities in being the leaders of their people and figures of inspiration for their respective countries, said countries’ rivalries notwithstanding. It wasn’t a surprise they would be fast friends soon after. He idly wondered if he could summon Jeanne to Chaldea. He had no doubt that Saber certainly wouldn’t mind, and she was a nice enough of a person. They would all get along well.

Still, it was nice seeing people live to the hype. Between King Arthur and Jeanne d’Arc, it at least disabused the notion that powerful leaders were all corrupt. Yoshida would’ve loved talking to either of them – though Ren had no doubt even the aging Diet member-to-be would be intimidated in talking to them, despite his experience in politics.

In the meantime, everyone else had set up camp for the evening. Lancer and Archer kept watch while Mash and Morgana found firewood, the latter lighting it. A full moon was gleaming in the darkening sky, a tapestry of stars slowly being unveiled as the sun sank on the horizon. Ren would’ve helped out, but there wasn’t much for him to do, plus he didn’t want to deprive either woman a chance to speak. Their conversation soon wrapped up, with a small promise to speak to each other again at hopefully a more convenient setting overall – perhaps over Ren’s coffee and curry (a shiver ran up his spine as he remembered Saber’s appetite).

“So, we should probably talk about what we know,” Morgana started once everyone had finished and gathered. “The soldiers called you, Jeanne, the Dragon Witch. Which you’re not in the slightest – whether you’d actually do something like that or not, you only manifested a few hours ago so you couldn’t have made your presence known, whether good or bad.” Jeanne nodded, agreeing with the analysis.

“The soldiers are completely disorganized as well, with no organization or movements,” Archer noted. He had spent his time surveying the lands around them. “They act like chickens with their heads cut off, defending what spots they’ve been garrisoned in or fleeing altogether. I’m guessing with the king dead, there’s no lords or knights who are able to rally them and mount a proper defense or counterattack. Not like they can with constant wyvern attacks harrying them anyway.”

“Right,” Ren nodded. “And apparently Jeanne killed the king and killed their way through Orleans. Which I’m guessing you’d never do, Jeanne?”

Jeanne’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “Never,” she replied. “I hold the king and my people no ill will, in the end. I saved them how I could, and though I died, so long as France is saved and my people safe and free, then I can ask for nothing more.”

Archer scowled but quickly mastered his expression and looked away, on pretense of keeping guard. He had many, many things to say about the saint’s selflessness but now wasn’t the time or place for it. Lancer and Morgana noticed, the former of which shrugged off and the latter frowned in concern in his direction.

“So with that in mind, there’s really only one conclusion,” Ren summarized. “You have some sort of doppelganger that’s acting as the Dragon Witch. This doppelganger killed the king and did that massacre at Orleans and is probably behind all these wyvern attacks as well. Sound about right?”

Roman, who was still on the call, nodded. “It does,” he replied. “Not to mention, to command that many wyverns at once – that’s not something a Servant can regularly do without some sort of skill, especially if it’s a doppelganger of Jeanne d’Arc, who has no associations with wyverns. I’m betting she’s in possession of the Holy Grail and using the power to create the wyverns. And with this doppelganger holding the Grail, she’s the focal point of this Singularity and putting the foundation of humanity at risk.”

Jeanne was quiet as she considered the information. The only sound was the fire crackling as it burned, giving while little light it could in the warm countryside. “Whether it’s a doppelganger or something else,” she murmured. “And whether I’ve been weakened or not is irrelevant. The people of France are in danger. And… you said you’re here to protect humanity, right? That’s why you’re here.”

Morgana sighed. “Yep, though it’s a bit more complicated than that,” he explained, crossing his arms. “Turns out this place is one Singularity out of seven that basically leads to the Incineration of Humanity. So we gotta resolve it as fast as we can. “

Her eyes widened at that, then narrowed into determination. “Then my resolve is set,” she declared. “By His will, I will go to Orleans, face my doppelganger, and retrieve the Holy Grail. Chaldeans, I ask much of you, but can you please lend me your strength? I do not think I will be able to succeed in this trial alone.”

Ren smirked, relaxing against the tree. “That’s what we’re here for in the first place,” he replied easily. Everyone else just nodded, smiling. “We’re with you, Jeanne.”

Jeanne beamed and bowed. “Thank you all so much,” she replied gratefully.

The Master smiled in return, then dropped back into seriousness. “Still, we can’t exactly just head straight there, can we? After all, going in through the front door is never a wise idea.”

Morgana smirked, remembering how he himself taught Ren that lesson a long time ago, when they first began their work. “That’s right. We’ll need more information and allies. Roman, can you pull up a map of the surrounding area?” Roman did so, which everyone looked at. Morgana pointed to the nearest one to their location. “There. La Charite,” Morgana stated. “We’ll start from there and see if we can find information. With any luck, someone will know something we can use – and maybe another Servant too. If Jeanne’s appeared, then there’s a chance another Servant might have shown up as well.”

They all nodded, then Jeanne remembered something. “One more thing I should mention – as a Ruler, I’m supposed to have the ability to detect Servants. That’s another ability that’s been hampered by my summoning, but if this doppelganger truly is me, they’ll have that ability as well, so therefore…”

“Our position might as well be lit up like a beacon,” Archer concluded in frustration. “In any case, there’s no point in moving – I don’t see any better defensible spots nearby and night has settled anyway. Lancer and I will take watch. Servants don’t require sleep anyway. That being said - Ruler, you should sleep as well, to conserve prana given your botched summoning. The two of us will alert you if something approaches. Besides, it wouldn’t be Lancer’s first time as a watch dog.”

“Bite me, Archer.”

“Biting is the dog’s job.”

“Oh you son of a-“

“Again, that would be you.”

“You say one more GODDAMN-“

“Language!” Jeanne demanded, glaring sternly at the two male Servants. The two looked at her in surprise, glared at each other, then both of them took off in opposite directions. She huffed. “I do hope not all Servants are like those two,” she bemoaned. “Saber was considerably different. She was enjoyable to talk to.”

“Nah, those two just don’t get along at all,” Morgana shook his head, reassuring her. “Individually, they’re not too bad. Well, Lancer can be somewhat annoying and Archer sometimes doesn’t know when to shut it, but they’re good guys overall.” He paused and looked at the directions the two had disappeared to. “… I think,” he finished lamely. Jeanne just groaned in frustration as Ren and Mash chuckled.

“Mash, do you need any sleep?” Ren asked, looking at her direction.

The girl nodded. “Unfortunately, I do, senpai,” she replied. “I’m only a demi-Servant, so I still have a human’s bodily needs, including food and sleep. I won’t be able to easily take watch.”

Ren shrugged. “No worries,” he replied easily. “We can all do with some rest. With that, we should probably get some sleep.” He settled down as he finished to emphasize his point. “We’ve a long day tomorrow and probably many places to visit. And probably more wyverns to fight. We’ll need what energy we can get.”

All of them nodded. Mash and Morgana settled down to sleep while Jeanne knelt down to give a last prayer before going to sleep herself. “Goodnight, Senpai,” Mash murmured.

“Goodnight, Mash, Morgana, Jeanne,” Ren replied, smiling.

A couple minutes later, the three of them were asleep, their gentle breathing and snores mixed with the dwindling crackles of the campfire. Ren laid there, staring up at the stars of the infinite cosmos above. He recollected everything that had happened. From the beginning at Chaldea, the first Singularity, the Servants, and now he was here, in medieval France, sleeping in the woods with the stars over him.

He reached up, closing his hand like he was grabbing the little lights out of the sky. Come to think of it, he never had a chance to really see the stars like this – there wasn’t much of a reason to look up at the sky, after all, and even then, Tokyo’s light pollution would have ruined whatever view there was. But here, the myriad stars dazzled his eyes. He thought about looking for constellations but discarded the thought – he didn’t know any after all.

A lump formed in his throat. How would his friends have reacted to this sight?

“Whoa, dude, so many stars…!” Ryuji gasped out in wonder. He was laying beside Ren, his eyes as wide as saucers as he beheld the vision.

“Truly a marvel,” Yusuke breathed, a small distance away. “I wish to draw this but… I find myself utterly transfixed for fear of missing a single detail. I doubt I can accurately represent such beauty on any medium.”

“It is a quite a view isn’t it,” Makoto commented quietly, laying at Ren’s other side. “I don’t think I ever had time to breathe and just… look up. All my troubles, whether as a student council president, a college student, or even as a Phantom Thief, look so small in comparison.”

Ren let out a quiet, shaky breath. He could hear their voices, even feel their presences, clear as day around him, wishing yet unwilling to stop.

“I know what you mean, Mako-chan,” Haru replied with a quiet giggle. “Small wonder my father had outer space as his Palace. But this feels a lot… cleaner.”

“Less robots?” Futaba suggested. “But yeah, I thought I’ve seen this kind of thing with video game skyboxes before, but daaaaamn, these graphics knock them WAY out of the park!”

“Totally,” Ann said. “Huh… maybe I should model in one of those dresses that glitter like the stars. I think I can pull it off. That suave, sexy kind of style – I’ll knock everyone out with it!”

“Oh, I’ve seen those before!” Sumire added excitedly. Then she rapidly covered her mouth as she realized she spoke too loud for the quiet atmosphere. “Maybe you could wear a pair of red sunglasses with some red gloves as well,” she suggested more quietly. “Maybe one of those flamingo scarves as well! I think they’d look good on you!” There was a pause as no one answered. “… no good?” she asked, cringing a bit.

“Well… maybe,” Ann hesitantly answered. “I might be able to pull that off. Maybe. I’ll have to check.”

The stars blurred in Ren’s vision, forcing him to wipe his eyes. Nobody else seemed to be moving or stirring.

“Lady Ann can pull off anything,” Morgana said confidently. “An ensemble like that would look good on her, no matter what.”

“Though your sense of style leaves something to be desired, Sumire,” Yusuke frankly added. The girl winced at the blunt comment.

“Inari, do you have absolutely no tact whatsoever?!” Futaba snarled.

“Wha – you are one to talk, Futaba!”

“Man, can you guys knock it off for, like, two seconds?” Ryuji groaned. “You’re totally ruining the mood here!”

Haru giggled. “Still, it wouldn’t be us without the bickering, for better or worse,” she stated. “Right Ren?”

Ren reflexively opened his mouth to answer… and immediately bit down on his lips, both to stop himself from answering and to stop himself from crying. He forced himself to wipe out all traces of their presence around him, silencing their voices. No. Not here. He could do so later, but he was on a mission right now. ‘Ren’ wasn’t needed at the moment. Right now, when on a mission, what was needed was ‘Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves’.

He rolled over, stifling whatever tears he felt. He would see them again. Ryuji, Ann, Makoto, Yusuke, Futaba, Haru, Sumire… Everyone. That was his end goal.

He didn’t have anything else.

Jeanne stared out at the countryside. Though it was dark, her vision adjusted to the moonlight allowing her to see a much farther distance than one would expect to at night. Her vision wasn’t as good as Archer’s, but she still saw quite a bit – including the dark shadows of wyverns flying through the air, their roars echoing through the silent night.

She was sitting at the edge of the forest, only a few minutes’ walk from the campsite. Her sleep had been restless, unable to put out of her mind thoughts of a doppelganger of her running around, tormenting and butchering her people. If her doppelganger was properly summoned, then she would be herself at full strength. Meanwhile, her own strength was cut considerable. She had allies here but would they be enough? Would she be able to lead them as she had her fellow countrymen in the past? Or would she just be a burden?

“Can’t sleep?”

Jeanne blinked and looked up. Mash stood beside her, smiling ruefully. “May I sit here?” she asked.

Smiling, Jeanne patted on the spot beside her. Mash sat down. “It’s a beautiful view,” Mash commented, looking over the countryside.

“Yes,” Jeanne murmured. “It is. And it’s my home.”

Mash was quiet. “What was it like? Your home,” she asked softly.

Jeanne smiled. “It was a simple life for me,” she replied. “Like I said, I was a poor peasant girl. I helped my family with the fields. I worked with my mom weaving. Every Sunday, we would go to church and offer our prayers to the Lord. As we worked, we sang hymns to track our time and relieve our tiredness for a while. When I received my revelations from the Lord, I knew what I had to do. But…” She smiled. “Those times and memories, I’ll always cherish. I might bring His words and doing His work, and I might linger on ‘what-ifs’ for a bit. A common lifestyle, a common prayer, maybe even a common romance. But in the end, my heart belongs to the Lord, my country, and my home.”

She glanced over. “What about you, Mash? What about your home?”

Mash hesitated. “Chaldea is the only home I’ve known,” she began. “White sterile walls, white sterile beds… I don’t have parents. I was an artificial baby.” Jeanne’s eyes widened at that detail but said nothing. “There were many doctors performing tests on me as I grew up. There was one doctor though – Roman. He was warmer than the rest. He talked to me, told me of the outside world. He would show me movies, bring me books, crack jokes.” She smiled as she recollected the unprofessional doctor. “Everyone else just thought of me as a lab subject. I was designed to be a perfect candidate for being a demi-Servant. But he at least taught me more about the world and talked to me. I’m grateful to him.”

Jeanne smiled at the end. “He seems to be a good man, if a bit unreliable.” Both of them shared a laugh at the doctor’s expense.

On an unrelated note, Roman sneezed as he monitored their readings.

“Still, I'm not sure it will be enough,” Jeanne mused once their mirth died down. “My doppelganger has already wrought so much damage and pain. She had an army of wyverns at her beck and call. And if she has a Holy Grail, it’s not out of the question she also has summoned Servants as well. My own summoning has been flawed, leaving me without many of my abilities or strength. I’m not afraid to die for my country once more – what I’m afraid of most is dying in vain, condemning my countrymen to live in suffering and death. I’m grateful for your assistance, Mash, and the rest of Chaldea. But I’m worried I won’t be enough.”

The Shielder twiddled her thumbs, looking down at her hands as she replied. “Not just you, Jeanne,” she murmured. “I told you – I don’t know what my Noble Phantasm really is, and because of that I only can use a fraction of its power. I’m a demi-Servant too – not as strong as a regular Servant, with many human weaknesses that a Servant wouldn’t have. I’m relying so much on senpai for strength but… I’m always afraid it’s not enough. Especially with how capable senpai is – his magecraft, his talents, his commands. He always feels so far ahead of me, like he’s the Servant and I’m just a regular person. With him, I don’t think we can ever lose, but even now, I’m not sure if I’m not just dragging him down. I’m not sure he trusts me, since he’s not telling me much of anything.”

“He trusts you.”

Both young women started as they looked around to see Morgana, blinking at them blearily. Despite his sleepiness, he smiled. “Ren’s not the type to judge people mistakenly, especially when it comes to talent,” he assured her. “If he’s relying on you to stay by your side, he completely trusts you. It’s not a privilege he extends easily. And hey, I get it, you feel like you’re useless and not needed right? Boy, I know how that feels.” Despite it being a long time ago, he still remembered those days – when Futaba first joined and her navigator skills blew his out of the water. He had been insecure, needled further by Ryuji’s taunts. Convinced the Phantom Thieves didn’t need him any longer, he left, in regret, sadness, anger, and most of all, frustration – not at the other Thieves, not Ren, not even Ryuji, but himself, for being so useless and pointless to the Thieves.

“But like it or not, you’re one of us now,” Morgana continued with a gentle smile. “If Ren’s not telling you something, it’s for a good reason. Give him some time, he’ll tell you sooner or later. If you need a place to belong, Mash, well, just look around you. I think you’re already there, don’t you think?”

Mash blinked as she considered. Ren was asleep nearby, able to let his guard down. Roman was keeping tabs on their progress. Da Vinci was no doubt working hard on something to help them later down the line. The staff were all working hard, helping them resolve the Singularities and bring back humanity, regardless of their differences.

A small smile crept over. Maybe she had a place after all.

“And Jeanne?” Morgana continued, turning towards the saint. “That passion of yours is honestly more important than your abilities. If you let that stop you, you’d never take back this country.” Jeanne blinked in surprise. “You’ll see things through. You got us with you too – even when you were a living, breathing human, you didn’t just rely on yourself to win all those battles, right? Lean on us a little – we’ll be counting on you a lot as well.”

Jeanne considered, then nodded with a smile. “Yes, you’re right,” she replied. “It’s silly of me to forget such a simple thing when you put it that way.”

Morgana chuckled. “Sometimes, it’s the simple things that gets the ball rolling. Or in this case, keep rolling,” he remarked. He turned back toward the forest. “Alright, back to bed, you two! We’ve got a long day tomorrow and we’ll need all the energy we can get!” With that, he marched back off towards the campsite. Mash and Jeanne looked at each other, chuckled, and followed after Morgana.

A new day would be there to greet them.

Chapter Text

Ren stepped back into the Velvet Room once more. Igor and Lavenza were there as always. He glanced over at the jail cell and still saw that little speck that was Olga still floating there, dormant. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. All he remembered was shutting his eyes, trying to block out his friends’ voices, and before he knew it, he was here once more.

In a sense, it was a welcome relief. Now he had something to distract him for a bit longer.

“Welcome back, my Trickster,” Lavenza gently said, smiling up at him. He returned it with a grin of his own – which dimmed somewhat when he noticed that her smile was tremulous. “Now that you are in a Singularity and with its own collective unconsciousness, we can provide you with more power. However, it will be limited, nor will it be as powerful as Personas linked to your Servants.” She held up the Compendium and opened it. Most of the pages were still burnt, save for the one page with Cu Chulainn’s information marked on it. There were now multiple new pages, but they were all transparent, like they could fade away at any time.

Ren leafed through them, recognizing many of the Personas here: Pixie, Angel, Incubus… They seemed to correlate with the setting: Medieval times, so there were beings from folklore there, and Christianity, so he saw angels and devils there. While not having a huge number of options, it was still far better than what he had before. It would certainly be limiting if he could only use Arsene who, while powerful, still had his limits, or Cu Chulainn, who would render him catatonic if he pushed it too far.

He began picking personas to utilize. Pixie and Jack Frost were always good choices and were fairly low energy use. He took Succubus along too. Her mind affecting abilities would be helpful. Archangel too. That one might be more readily accepted by the people around. He took a few more just in case. A large number of them were, while powerful, too costly – he didn’t trust himself to be able to last if he brought them out and used them to fight for more than a couple minutes. There were three in particular where he pondered a bit longer. Then he smirked and summoned them as well. There wasn’t anyone else he wanted to bring, and they may prove to be useful.

He had to grin though – what would everyone’s reactions be if he actually used them?

“I’m surprised you’re not charging me fees,” Ren remarked as Lavenza closed the Compendium after he was done. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you – I’m not exactly overflowing with money at the moment. But even back with Yaldabaoth or Maruki, you guys still charged me for them.”

“The concept of ‘purchasing’ had long been engrained into the collective unconsciousness, my dear guest,” Igor answered. “In exchange for what you gave us, we would provide a ‘product’ in return. Even for fusions and executions, our ‘payment’ was the leftover energy that came from the process. There is no leftover energy with simply summoning your personas, so therefore a ‘payment’ is necessary.” Ren nodded. That made sense. “However, again, with the collective unconsciousness now so weak and Alaya providing what energy it can to preserve itself, we can forgo the concept. Of course, as you saw, we are still limited to what we can provide for you.”

Ren smiled and shrugged. “Better than nothing,” he easily commented. Being a Wild Card meant having more options to work with, to adapt to his enemies as necessary and strike at their weaknesses. Even a limited scale of it would be immensely helpful for the times ahead. He could already feel the presences of his personas in his mind, ready to be utilized whenever they were called for. As Lavenza noted, however, none of the Personas held as much ‘weight’ to them as Arsene or Cu Chulainn.

“My Trickster…”

He looked over at the little Velvet Room attendant and saw her looking up at him again, her expression sorrowful. “You truly bear a heavy burden,” she whispered. “I… I saw you cry. Both times. You miss your allies, your friends, your family, don’t you?”

A gigantic lump formed in his throat once more as he forced himself to give yet another easy smile. One he didn’t feel in the slightest. “Yeah, but that’s to be expected,” he replied casually. “We went through a lot together. But… it’s not like I can do anything about it by just crying, right? Once the Singularities are dealt with, then the Incineration of Humanity will be taken care of, and I’ll see them again. No big deal – it’s just like that time Yaldabaoth had us all disappear. It’s just for a bit longer is all.”

He reached over to gently pet the Velvet Room attendant on the head. “I’ll be fine, Lavenza, but thanks for worrying about me,” he reassured her, trying to smile. “I’m your Trickster, after all. Just believe in me, like you always have. I’ll restore everything in the end and bring everyone back. Then we can all celebrate. I’ll even take you out with us – there’s this one buffet where we went to celebrate taking down Kamoshida that had some of the best food we’ve ever had. You’ll love it.”

Lavenza blinked up at him through teary eyes and could only give an uncertain nod. Ren smiled once more, then turned to head back into his cell.

“A word of advice, my guest.”

Ren turned to look at Igor, who was regarding him with serious – and sympathetic – eyes. “It is fine to wish for the company of your old allies, for they are your source of strength,” he said. “But do not let that turn into neglect for your new allies. It would be most foolish to deny yourself new wellsprings of power when things are so tenuous.”

He blinked, then gave another half-hearted smile. “Got it, Igor,” he replied, turning back. “I’ll be sure to connect with them.” With that, he stepped through the back of his cell, which dissolved into the void, and he saw no more once again.

Lavenza clutched the Compendium tighter. “Master, will… will the Trickster falter in the end?” she asked.

Igor stared at the spot where Ren had vanished and sighed. “We can only hope he won’t, Lavenza,” he replied softly. “We can only hope.”

The next day, the group were on the road towards La Charite, as they had discussed the other night. The countryside seemed peaceful at first, but eventually it became eerie – they passed by farms and buildings that were empty or destroyed, the crops laying fallow. There weren’t any sounds of people nearby nor were there even any sounds of animals, even a bird chirp. The only thing they could hear was the occasional breeze that whistled through. Archer and Lancer stayed close by as opposed to scouting ahead. If Jeanne’s doppelganger could detect them, then it would be child’s play to spring an ambush on them before they could react.

“I recognize this tree. La Charite should be just ahead,” Jeanne pointed out.

Archer frowned and narrowed his eyes down the road. “If that’s the case, then it’s La Charite that’s burning right now,” Archer replied, summoning his twin blades to him once more. “I also sense a Servant ahead. While you might want to send us ahead, Master, it may be a trap to separate us. I suggest staying close together.”

Ren gritted his teeth but knew Archer had a point. “Fine, but let’s get a move on, guys!” Everyone nodded and charged forward. The Servants kept pace with the Masters so they wouldn’t be separated by their difference in abilities. Ren cursed himself for not being able to move faster. “Morgana?” he called out, looking down at his friend running alongside him, his legs moving so fast they were almost circular blurs.

Morgana activated his magic circuits and concentrated, but once more, nothing.  “Sorry, Joker,” he replied apologetically. Ren just grimly nodded and kept running. Figures that Morgana couldn’t transform into his bus form. If this was modern times then maybe, but not in medieval France who didn’t even know what a bus was, let alone a transforming cat.

As they approached, Archer called out, “The Servant has retreated. It must’ve known we were coming!”

“Tch, figures,” Lancer grumbled. “Was hoping to get a good fight out of this.”

“Not important right now, Lancer!” Morgana snapped. “Even if there isn’t a Servant there, we need to take care of whatever damage control there is: taking down enemies, rescuing people, the works! Stay sharp, people!”

“Yes, Mr. Morgana!” Mash called out, hauling her shield as she continued running alongside everyone else.

However, when they reached La Charite, it was too late – all that remained were some burning cinders. Dead bodies littered the ruins of the village, some charred to pieces, others simply mangled or killed. Whatever happened here wasn’t just a pillaging raid or even an attack from an enemy. It was a wholesale slaughter, pure and simple.

“What… What could drive my doppelganger to do such this…?” Jeanne could only gasp out in horror.

Ren, however, didn’t take it quite so well. He had been born in more peaceful times, without conflict or war. Though he had delved in the Metaverse, the only deaths and casualties he saw were of inhuman things, be they ATMs as people back in Kaneshiro’s Palace or personally killing Shadows. The former were inhuman enough to detach himself from it, while the latter he carried out himself and was used to it. The sight of dead, mangled bodies with the scent of burning flesh turned his stomach inside out. And the flames gave him images. For a split second, he could see his friends as the bodies-

Running aside, he vomited his meager breakfast. Mash and Morgana ran over, with Mash gently patting Ren on the back as he emptied his stomach. Archer kept watch without commenting as Lancer shook his head. “Kid says he’s done this multiple times, yet he’s never stepped into a battlefield,” he observed. “He gets weirder with every thing we find out about him, right, Archer?”

Archer glanced over at Ren while a small frown. Lancer was right – Ren didn’t strike him as the type to overinflate such an act and the weariness he showed as he spoke about it was genuine. But then, where did he fight? What did he do? He was no stranger to combat yet wasn’t used to dead bodies. Still… “It doesn’t matter, Lancer,” he replied, continuing to observe his surroundings. “We can grill him for details later. For now, we’re currently on the field. Whatever he did before is irrelevant, besides his experience in fighting and leading. At the very least, he isn’t lying about that.”

Lancer didn’t say anything, staring at Ren who was heaving for breath as Mash offered him a canteen of water. Then he sighed. “Man, hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, turning back to their surroundings.

Ren took the canteen from Mash. The first mouthful, he swilled in his mouth to get rid of all the bile and acid before spitting it aside. Then he slowly drank, allowing the cool liquid to soothe his burning, damaged throat.

“You alright, Joker?” Morgana asked worriedly as he watched Ren drink.

He took a deep heaving breath before giving a shaky smile to Morgana. “Yeah, yeah, I think I’m okay,” he panted. “Thanks for the water, Mash. Needed that.”

“Yes, of course, senpai,” she murmured, her expression mirroring Morgana’s. She could only watch as Ren straightened up, take a deep breath, and then looked back over the ruins. He seemed so utterly shaken compared to his usual, unflappable self, it was like night and day. Though she herself felt queasy from the sight and smell, she didn’t have as violent a reaction as Ren did. She wondered why but didn’t dare to ask. Her senpai wasn’t as infallible as he made himself out to be, but he still kept many things close to his chest.

“Lancer, Archer, any survivors?” Ren called out.

“Dead as doornails, Master,” Lancer replied grimly, poking at one body with his spear. “Whatever killed them was quick and thorough – poor bastards got no warning. At least it didn’t drag out.”

“I didn’t see any tracks or traces either,” Archer added. “It seems no one escaped or was dragged away. A small mercy at least that they died quickly as opposed to any torture.”

Ren nodded… then everyone started as they heard something shift. “You hear that?” Morgana asked, taking out his slingshot. Ren nodded quietly as he took out his own pistol. Then his eyes widened in horror as one of the bodies twitched, then slowly stood up. No way in hell was this a survivor – its body was far too mangled and damaged for the person to ever survive. It slowly turned its head toward the group, its eyes glassy yet ravenous. It began to shamble towards them, reaching out with its mauled arms for them as all around, more and more bodies started to move and rise as well.

“Z-z-z-z-z-z-ZOMBIES!!!” Morgana screamed. Mash immediately charged, smashing the closest zombie in the head with her shield and causing its head to erupt in a shower of gore. Lancer and Archer leaped in as well, the former’s spear flashing red as it poked effortless holes in the moving corpses while the latter’s blades quickly moved in tandem, multiple spinning pairs flying through the air to slice them apart as he carved them to pieces with yet another fresh pair of blades. Jeanne’s flagpole moved swiftly as well – not as quick as Lancer’s spearwork, but enough to kill off the undead easily.

Ren heard a movement and turned around, just in time to see a zombie lunge and cling to him, its mouth seeking to clamp down on his throat. He shoved with all his might, trying to get the rotten corpse off him. His hungering maw and glazed eyes burned into Ren, sparking off panic. “ARSENE!” he screamed. The red-coated Persona immediately appeared in a flash of blue flame and sliced at at the zombie, knocking it away while splattering Ren in blood. It tried to shamble back up, but a fountain of darkness dissolved it back into nothingness.

Panting, Ren looked down at himself. He was covered in blood. He had to fight back another bout of nausea. As a Phantom Thief, most of their battles and efforts were fairly clean overall. Dealing with this was far beyond what he was used to.

“Joker!”

Ren blinked and looked over at Morgana who was glaring at him in concern. “Joker, breathe,” he told him. Ren took a deep breath. “Again,” Morgana commanded. In and out. In and out. Gradually, his nausea started to settle as did his nerves. Before too long, he was calm again. Shaken, but calm.

“Senpai, here.” Mash handed him a towel (just how many things did she have in that shield of hers?). He smiled shakily but gratefully to her as he wiped himself off. He tossed aside the red-stained towel. Another deep breath later, he slid his metaphorical mask back on. He had lost control of himself far too much, far too quickly. He was their leader – being shaken like this wasn’t tolerable. Not if they wanted to see this through to the end.

He straightened up as Jeanne stared at him. “That… thing you summoned,” Jeanne started. “Was that your magecraft? It looked demonic.”

Ren blinked, then gave a quiet, amused chuckle. “I can see how you’d think that,” he replied easily, grinning as if though he didn’t just have a panic attack. “No, it’s just a being who’s been with me for… well, basically my whole life.” It wasn’t a lie. Arsene was his inner self. The will of rebellion made manifest for him. He had dwelled within Ren for the longest time until the Metaverse came about and he was able to utilize his strength. Firing up his magic circuits, he summoned him again, and Arsene appeared, floating serenely yet confidently behind him. Jeanne stared up at it in surprise. “He’s been amazingly handy and powerful, so don’t be too surprised if I use him often,” he explained.

“And Joker’s not the only one who can use it,” Morgana pointed out. “Zorro!” The masked duelist appeared behind Morgana in turn, drawing Jeanne’s attention as well. She looked between the two personas, then giggled.

“Very well, I’ll trust your judgement and abilities,” Jeanne replied. Her face fell as she looked back over the town. Her flagpole vanished as she knelt down, clasping her hands, murmuring a prayer for those who died and then had their bodies desecrated. Ren, Morgana, and Mash lowered their heads in silent deference to her prayer as Archer and Lancer once more kept watch. They were too late to save the town but at the very least, they could offer their respect to those who had died.

A beeping from Ren’s watch interrupted them. “Guys, heads up!” Roman warned them urgently. “Servant signals are coming your way! Five of them!”

Ren scowled. Five Servants. While the group outnumbered them, they didn’t know the strength of their combatants. They couldn’t fight without more information. “Thanks, Roman,” Ren said tersely. “Everyone, move out. We need to get out of here before they show up.”

“No.”

Blinking, Ren turned toward Jeanne. She was standing back up, her flagpole out and defiant, her gaze hard and pure. “I wish to meet the tormentors of my country,” she stated. “I wish to meet this doppelganger of mine and see what would drive her to commit such horrors on our homeland. I wish to know their true intentions and stop them with all my might!”

He opened his mouth to argue, then gave up with a ragged exhale and a tired smile. That purity of her determination reminded him so much of his friends’ when they stood up and rebelled with all their heart. He knew he wouldn’t change her mind no matter what argument he used. “Mona, can you secure an escape route for us?” he asked. They still had the smoke and flash bombs that Da Vinci had provided them, but if they could get out of here without using them, they would take it. They were limited, after all.

Morgana nodded. “You got it, Joker,” he acknowledged before racing off.

“Archer, any chance you can find a place to provide cover fire for us?” Ren asked.

Archer turned and frowned at a certain direction. “There isn’t, Master, nor do I think that would be a good idea,” he replied. “If the doppelganger or whoever it is has the same abilities, then they would already know we were here. Splitting up might cause them to act unpredictably.” With that, he summoned his bow and a sword, which lengthened into an arrow. “That being said, I do see them from here,” he noted. “Should I take the shot?”

“Please don’t, Archer,” Jeanne requested. “As I said, I wish to know their intentions. This may be the best time to speak with them without any hostilities.” Archer looked at Jeanne before glancing at Ren. The Master hesitated, then nodded. Archer frowned but his bow and sword vanished, replaced with his twin blades. At the very least, he wouldn’t be taken off guard.

The air soon throbbed with the sound of beating wings, and before long five large wyverns were in sight. Flying in formation, they split off and landed, surrounding them. A Servant descended from each wyvern, standing at the ready.

Ren glanced at each one. Being surrounded like this wasn’t ideal in the slightest, especially with the wyverns joining in and essentially doubling their numbers. They all had their back to each other, weapons at the ready. Ren tired to take in what information he could. Each Servant was wildly different, but he could still feel their oppressive power bearing down on him all the same.

There was a man with long blonde hair and ice-blue eyes and carefully trimmed beard. He held in his hand an oddly designed spear. He wore a suit with a long coat that was frayed at the ends. His appearance and aura felt extraordinarily dignified on the surface, but right underneath that was a roiling bloodlust that was all too eager to spill over at the slightest provocation.

A grown woman was among them. Her attire showed no small amount of skin, looking more akin to just multiple straps rather than any fabric whatsoever. Over her ensemble was a skirt and cloak of blood-red satin, as well as thigh-high boots. Carefully done white hair framed her face, which was concealed by an iron mask. She wielded a large, metal staff topped with stylized bat wings. The ensemble would’ve been arousing if her mere presence didn’t set off every single alarm bell within his mind. This woman’s allure didn’t promise any pleasure – or rather, only promised pleasure for her. For any unfortunate victim, he had no doubt she would only promise pain beyond measure.

There was another woman with them. She was beautiful, but in the sense that she looked more like an untainted being than anything alluring to the opposing sex. Long purple hair with stern blue eyes. Her white robes were oddly exposing of her chest and legs, which were covered in blue stockings, contrasting her beautiful image. In her hand was a staff in the shape of a giant cross. Although, was it his imagination or did he see a bit of stress on her expression? Did this Servant not want to do this? But still, that wasn’t relevant right now.

The last one was a young woman…? Man…? It was hard to tell. Elegantly dressed in a light-blue uniform, topped with a large blue hat. It was surprisingly tight-fitting, though the curves made it no easier to tell whether they were a beautiful woman or man. Perhaps that was the whole point. Their blue eyes were a curious mix of gentleness and sternness. There was a rapier ready to be used at a moment’s notice. The rapier certainly reminded him of Sumire, but Ren knew without a doubt that this Servant was probably far deadlier with it than Sumire ever was.

And finally, at the head of the contingent, was their leader. It reminded Ren so much of the Saber he saw back in Fuyuki: Her clothes and armor were of fine make but black and red. Her skin was so pale it looked more dead than alive. Blond hair so pale it was almost white. Her eyes were yellow as well, but unlike Saber’s which were emotionless, hers was filled with scorn, anger, and hatred. To top it off, she bore her own flag as well. If her yellow eyes actually glowed, Ren would honestly think that she was Jeanne’s Shadow.

She was, without a doubt, the doppelganger of Jeanne d’Arc.

The doppleganger stared at Jeanne, her face an expression of shock. Then it twisted as she began chuckling before bursting out into outright laughter, the sound tinged with madness that could only come from pure anger and hatred. “O-Oh, this is utterly hilarious!” she laughed. “To think my past self would show up here! Oh, this is brilliant, just fucking brilliant! She looks so goddamn PATHETIC! Oh, is this His way of telling me to fuck off? Well same to you! My god, it’s like looking at a past image of yourself and seeing how stupid you looked! Ha!”

Jeanne could only gape in surprise before her expression settled into a scowl. “Enough!” she demanded. “Who are you? If you’re truly me, why are you destroying the country we worked and helped so hard to save?”

The darker Jeanne’s laughed dwindled, but she still had a twisted smile on her face from the stupidity of the situation. “Who do you think?” she asked mockingly. “I am Jeanne d’Arc. The Jeanne d’Arc that was burned at the stake, that everyone called a witch. A fucking witch, after everything I did for them! The Jeanne d’Arc that your precious king abandoned because I was inconvenient for his rule after raising him to the goddamn throne! The Jeanne d’Arc that He abandoned because I was no longer useful for His purposes either!”

Her expression twisted into a snarl. “You wanna know why I’m doing this?” she hissed. “This country left us to burn and rot. God left us to burn and rot. And you wanna know what I think about that? Fuck this country and fuck Him! I’ll raze it, burn it all down to the ground! They want their goddamn witch so bad, then I’ll give it to them. I’m the Dragon Witch now, and with my wyverns, I’ll turn this entire damn country into a hellscape even the Devil himself would be impressed by!”

The Saint scowled. “You are not me,” she declared, raising her flag. “I may have been burned at the stake, yes, but that does not matter to me. My life was given to France and its people to do with as they will. They were liberated and saved. That was my mission from God, and I willingly and happily bear it, even if it brought me to my end. I hold no enmity or hatred for Him, my king, or my people. I especially would never raise my hand and bring death and fire to my people!”

The doppelganger scoffed. “Because you’re a goddamn idiot,” she growled. “So was I until I felt the fire burn away at me. Oh, the pain, the torment. I tried to bear it but I wanted to scream so badly. You remember that, don’t you? Of course you do. Yet here you are, still playing the good little girl that everyone wanted. A patsy until the very fucking end. Immature and naïve. Fuck this, I didn’t expect you to come around anyway. You’re just a goddamn eyesore. Lancer. Assassin. I don’t care how you wanna do it but get rid of her – she’s yours to do with as you please.”

The man with the spear and the white-haired woman stepped forth. “Very well,” the dark Lancer replied. His voice was soft but like his aura, barely concealed his bloodlust. “In that case, I will have her blood. I’ve no doubt it shall be delicious.”

“Not so fast, ‘my King’,” replied the other woman. “She is a saint, is she not? I wish to partake in her flesh and blood myself. All of it. I will not forgive the fact she is more beautiful than me. Her blood I will use to elevate my own beauty. That is all she shall be good for. That is the privilege of a noble.”

The dark Lancer glanced at her. “So greedy,” he chuckled. “Very well. I shall have her soul. It is ironic though – I can only understand her beauty only after becoming a blood-sucking fiend. It shall be a decent consolation prize, however.”

As the two Servants spoke, a chill ran Ren and Mash’s spine. To speak of Jeanne like they were simply carving up a turkey was… inhuman to an unnerving degree. Jeanne gripped her flag more tightly as her expression morphed into one of disgust. Lancer readied his own spear with a scowl while Archer raised his blades, his sharp eyes already looking for a way out.

Surrounded by bloodthirsty foes… Despite his nervousness, Ren forced himself to laugh. That got everyone’s attention. “The hell? What, so scared you lost it, little Master?” the darker Jeanne mocked. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it nice and quick for you. But you’ll be screaming in agony the whole time though.”

Ren laughed again and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m laughing at,” he replied, forcing a smirk on his face. “You talk about showing up God and making this place into Hell, right? You almost make it sound like you met with the Devil himself.” His smirk widened. “Well then, how about we ask him for his opinion right now?” He once more moved to tear off his metaphorical mask.

“Satan!”

With a flash of blue flame, a gigantic blue monstrosity appeared, roaring. Everyone immediately backed off, with the darker Jeanne cursing. Though it was impossible, everyone instinctively knew that it was the Devil – or rather, a facet of the Devil – that Ren had summoned in their midst. The blue monstrosity pointed, and suddenly gigantic pillars of ice erupted from the ground, separating the group from their opponents. The darker Lancer’s spear arm was caught in the ice, who roared in rage as he struggled to pull it out. Suddenly, several small explosions burst in the wyverns’ faces, driving them into a frenzy.

Lancer and Archer didn’t hesitate to act – moving forward, they swiftly cut down the trapped dark Lancer, with Archer severing his head and Lancer thrusting into his heart. Mash caught Ren whose legs had given out from the strain of summoning Satan and proceeded to carry him through the opening the other two Servants made. Morgana hopped up ahead, waving at them. “This way!” he yelled before racing ahead. The group swiftly followed them.

“After them, don’t let them escape!” the doppelganger screeched. A burst of flames shattered the ice as the Servants began to rally – before being interrupted with pink orbs of energy bursting all around them. Suddenly, a discordant melody burst all around them, sending the wyverns once more into another frenzy and forcing the Servants to cover their ears in pain. By the time the melody ended, the wyverns had all flown off, and the group was long gone.

The darker Jeanne’s scream of frustration echoed through the air.

“We should be safe here.”

Mash nodded to Archer before setting down Ren. Ren grunted in thanks as he sat against a tree. He felt immensely sore and hot from his magic circuits burning through his body, but it still wasn’t as bad as the time he summoned Cu Chulainn. He definitely needed a rest though.

“Well, that was certainly a most interesting time,” chirped one of their rescuers. A young woman dressed in a tight red outfit with an oversized red hat, with red gloves and white stockings as well as long grey hair in pigtails. Her clear blue eyes shone with amusement, though with some trepidation as well. “I was about to come rescue you like a heroine from the old tales, but it seemed that wasn’t necessary after all! Still, introductions are in order, i think. I am Marie Antoinette, a Rider class Servant. A pleasure to meet all of you!”

“Yes, a most stunning performance with an unexpected climax,” exclaimed their other rescuer – a man in rather loud yellow robes and a whimsical smile. “It was a rather unexpected concert, but one that worked out well in everyone’s favor. Oh, I forget myself – I am Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Although I am a Caster, I am utterly useless in combat, so do forget about me in the heat of battle!”

Jeanne gave a strained smile and nod to both of them. However, her attention was elsewhere. She looked down at Ren, who was resting against a tree still, just listening. This Master said he didn’t use demons, yet had just summoned the Devil himself. And not just a facsimile – there was absolutely no way one could mistake that presence. It wasn’t the Devil’s full power, sure, but it was still a significant portion that couldn’t easily be ignored. As a saint, she needed to address this. One way or another.

“Ren Amamiya. Who – or what – are you?”

Chapter Text

Ren looked up at Jeanne. Though his body was far too warm and sore from utilizing his magic circuits, his mind was still extremely clear. Her expression was conflicted and he couldn’t exactly blame her – she was a saint, and he had summoned a part of the Devil just then. Wait… no, it wasn’t just her. Both Archer and Lancer were frowning in his direction. It was clear they wanted answers as well. Mash looked nervously between everyone but didn’t say anything, torn between wanting to defend Ren yet at the same time also wanting to know what was going on. Marie and Mozart kept quiet. Despite their whimsical natures, even they knew better than to butt in.

His communicator beeped as Roman appeared on the screen. His face was far more grave than usual. “Ren, I don’t think I need to tell you why this is a huge deal,” he explained. “But to clarify. First off: You just summoned a divine spirit as your power. A fraction of one, maybe, but a divine spirit nevertheless. And second, you summoned Satan, a being who has been recorded and regarded as the mortal enemy of both God and humankind. I would even say his existence is the anathema for almost anyone that’s in the Throne of Heroes, let alone Servants.” Though Ren couldn’t see it, Da Vinci was also nearby watching the conversation, her ever-present smile gone. The staff monitoring the situation were watching intently what was going to happen as well.

Morgana moved to stand between Ren and everyone else, his cutlass in his hand. “Do we really have time for any of this?” he asked sharply. “Ren is the best chance you guys have – frankly, all of you should be relieved he can summon such a power! What are we gonna do, make him into some sort of heretic?”

Lancer scoffed. “Don’t get me wrong, cat,” he drawled. “Under any other circumstance, I’d be more than happy to have a Master with that kind of firepower on my side. But first and foremost, I’m also a hero – you could even say I would be obligated to strike down the Devil if he appeared no matter what, to say nothing of the saint here.” Though his body language was casual, his blood-red eyes was sharp as he kept an eye on Ren’s every move.

“The appearance of a being such as Satan would be enough to elicit a strong Counter Guardian response on its own,” Archer added. “The fact that there hasn’t been one surprises me, especially since it seems this isn’t the first time you’ve done such a thing before.” His arms were crossed as his own steel-grey eyes focused on Ren.

Ren flicked his eyes to each of the Servants staring at him, as well as the doctor watching him through his watch. His vision muddled from exhaustion. All of a sudden, he was back in the interrogation room, slouched up against a wall. He had been fiercely beaten, his handcuffs chafing against his wrists. His mind was delirious and muddled – they had injected some kind of truth serum into him. His eyes moved up again and he saw those officers in his cell, coldly glaring down at him like he was scum.

Come on, cooperate. Or what, you want another shot?

He glanced again at the doctor on the communicator. No doubt that this transmission was being recorded.

Huh? What about the camera? Are you thinking it can be used as video evidence?

Ren chuckled, his mouth twisting into a mirthless smile. “I’ve nothing to tell any of you,” he rasped. “You call yourselves heroes, saviors, or saints, yet the minute you see something you don’t like, you panic and immediately try to cover your own tracks. You’ll just kill or remove whoever’s in your way, don’t you? Yeah, that’s typical in the end.” As he spoke, he quietly dragged himself back up to his feet.

Roman faltered. “Wha- Ren, that’s not-“

“What, you wanna see if I’m some criminal or devil in disguise? Or were you just looking for a chance to label me one?” he continued, glaring at the assembled Servants. Morgana’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen Ren act like this before. The most was anger at Shido and Yaldabaoth, but all of the Thieves were angry at them for good reason. Lashing out like this wasn’t like him at all. “Everyone I know and knows me is gone. Would be a good time to get rid of me. Want me to convince you? Fine – how about this?!” He tore off the mask again.

“Archangel!”

A winged, armored figure appeared right behind him, its stern face glaring down at them through his open face plate. In its hand was a sword to be used at any moment. Jeanne’s eyes widened. It was without doubt an angel Ren had summoned. Archer and Lancer gaped at it as well. Mash’s gaze, however, immediately shot to Ren. His eyes were manic with despair, rage, and panic. Morgana saw much the same. “Joker – Ren, snap out of it!” he cried out, shaking his pant leg.

However, the dam had burst. Ren barely felt the heat of the magic circuits – just that of his own anger, frustration, and sadness. “What, that not enough for you?” he asked mockingly. Archangel disappeared. He called forth yet another presence he now held.

“Metatron!”

A blinding presence came in a flash of blue flame. A large metallic angel, clothed in white, in all its glorious splendor. Jeanne had to step back, her mouth falling open. She hadn’t heard of an angel called Metatron, yet the presence in front of her was without a doubt a holy being that eclipsed the Archangel Ren had just summoned before a thousand times over. Its presence was weaker than that of God but only slightly. Her shock was the only reason she didn’t immediately fall on her knees and prostrate herself.

“S-senpai!” Mash screamed. Her words brought everyone else out of their shock as they followed her gaze to Ren. His body was steaming as his magic circuits burned. He coughed, hacking up blood. However, he didn’t seem aware of the pain still. He just saw faces – the cruel police officers, Sae glaring at him across the table, Shido, even fevered delusions of Akechi holding a pistol to his head. He had been a fool to trust them. There were no heroes or saints. Just people with power abusing it like they always did – and he was facing them alone. Completely, utterly alone.

“But fine,” he snarled as Metatron faded. “If you really wanna label me as some sort of criminal, then I might as well go whole hog!” He reached for the last presence – an infinitely powerful one that would most likely be his end at this rate. “LU-“

Before he could call it out, he was whacked on the head from behind. Ren let out a breath as he crumpled into a motionless heap. Morgana landed back on the ground, having jumped up and hit him on the head with the back of his cutlass. Even he was shocked at what he just did. For a few moments, there was only silence as everyone caught their breath, trying to comprehend what happened.

It was broken by the sound of a distant wyvern roar. Archer immediately looked up. “We’ve most likely given away our position,” he observed. “We need to move – now.” Everyone nodded but hesitated with Ren. Mash reached down to pick him up but Marie stepped forward. “Allow me,” she offered. “It may do him better if he was woke up to unfamiliar yet friendly faces at this point.” Mash hesitated, then nodded, stepping aside. Smiling gracefully, she leaned down and carried the young man in her arms. He was larger than she was overall but as a Servant, she had no trouble carrying him.

They rapidly moved further south, keeping to the forests so they wouldn’t be found by any wyverns or Servants. The sun started to set as they move, the lengthening shadows occasionally tripping up Morgana or Mash while the other Servants moved without too much hassle. During the entire trip, Ren hadn’t stirred or woken up. His face was tight with pain as he sweated profusely. Marie frowned. “He is burning up,” she commented. “We’ll need to stop soon – he needs rest.”

They all looked at each other and nodded. “Over there,” Lancer said, pointing to a small, sheltered clearing. There was enough distance that Ren could be separate from them but still within sight. Marie laid him down, then quietly knelt down beside him and placed his head on her lap, smiling softly.

“Go now,” she said to the group. “I will attend to him.”

Mash felt a pang of pain in her heart, seeing her senpai’s head in another woman’s lap, but it was overridden by concern for him. She opened her mouth to speak only to feel a hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Lancer, who simply shook his head. Glumly closing her mouth, she walked with the other Servants away. Morgana was the last to follow, only looking sadly and despondently at Ren before also turning away.

Marie quietly watched them leave, then looked at Ren resting in her lap. “Such a handsome young man,” she remarked softly, her cool hand stroking his burning forehead. “But so much pain for one so young.” Her lips creased sadly. “I wonder if he led a privileged life like I did, then had it all torn away from him…”

Mozart sat beside them, his expression pensive. “Hm, he’s like a deeply discordant concerto,” he observed. “And he keeps trying to play solo, drowning out the accompaniment. Ah, there’s a certain beauty to the music, but it is so very, very tragic…” He sighed, then a moment later, he looked up at Marie. “Ah, if I was wounded or suffering in such a manner, would you perhaps do the same for me?” he asked hopefully.

The young queen looked at Amadeus with a beatific smile on her face. “Non, Amadeus,” she replied cheerfully. “I’m afraid I’ve little sympathy for human garbage.”

Amadeus held a hand over his head in shock. “Ah, your words wound me, my dear Marie!” he cried out. “And yet, I feel something indescribable as a result of your insults!” Marie simply rolled her eyes with a friendlier smile at Amadeus’s antics. She looked back down at Ren, who was shifting in pain. Was he having a nightmare? Or just suffering from overusing his magic circuits? She glanced over at the others, who were silent, pondering their own positions. They would need to talk soon.

Suddenly, Archer looked up. “We have company,” he muttered, summoning his swords. “Marie, Mozart, keep an eye on our Master.” Mash scowled and summoned her shield, moving herself between the unconscious Ren and the enemy. Jeanne blinked and picked up her flagpole as well, with Morgana and Lancer also taking out their weapons, standing at the ready. There was a moment of silence, then a figure stepped out from the foliage. The woman they had seen earlier with long purple hair and white robes. Her stern eyes landed on each of them before finally resting on Ren, her gaze intensifying into a glare.

“Move,” she growled.

Lancer chuckled darkly. “Well, ain’t Master a lady magnet,” he joked though neither his body nor stance relaxed. “Sorry, but no matter how good looking you are, we’re not moving for an enemy.”

“I was sent to observe you by the other Jeanne d’Arc, but I cannot stay silent any longer.” The woman gripped her staff so tightly her knuckles went white. “That… person summoned the essence of the Devil, then proceeded to command the power of angels, with one bordering that of our Lord. Whatever powers he bears aren’t natural. He’s an abomination and needs to be destroyed, else he would bring Armageddon on our heads!”

“You would be a bit late for that,” Archer drawled. “Humanity’s been incinerated in the future. We’re here to prevent that, our Master that you’re calling an abomination included. Though normally I wouldn’t approve of such things…” He risked a glance back at the unconscious Ren and smirked. “Frankly, if a situation as ridiculous as the Incineration of Humanity has occurred, then perhaps a ridiculous power is what’s needed to set it back on course.”

Lancer blinked, then guffawed. “Hahahaha! You got some damned ridiculous logic there, Archer! Can’t say I don’t like it though!” He looked back at the woman, his grin fierce. “Lady, don’t know if you realized, but us heroes aren’t exactly clean either – we did a lot of things that would have us called demons, one way or another. Yet here we are, still revered and still walkin’ forward. And frankly, I prefer Masters who can hold their own on the battlefield.” He glanced over at Morgana. “Right, kitty cat?”

Morgana scoffed. “I’ll get you for that later, Lancer,” he grumbled. Despite everything, he was still smiling. Ren still had that talent of gathering allies wherever he went. He was proud of his closest friend.

The woman hesitated, then finally turned to Jeanne. “And what about you? You’re a fellow saint, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You follow His word, His will. You know well that this boy is a living heresy and blasphemy against Him. Are you still going to let him live?”

Jeanne didn’t speak, hesitating. She took a deep breath. “It is written that killing is a sin,” she murmured. “In life, I have been at the forefront of countless men, leading them into battle. I’ve not once taken a life myself, but that does not mean blood isn’t on my hands. But still, I pushed onward, so that my people and my country could remain free and would see a new dawn.” She faced the woman, her eyes shining with resolve and determination. “My will has not wavered, nor my faith. Ren Amamiya may be able to summon both demons and angels, but I am sure he only seeks righteousness for all. This I know. Therefore, I am happy and proud to consider him an ally and friend!”

The woman scowled. “And if he really is the Devil’s minion sent to tempt you?”

“He is not one,” Jeanne declared. “I am certain of it.”

The woman sighed, then brandished her staff. “Then there’s no point discussing this any longer,” she stated. “I am Servant Rider. My true name is Saint Martha, she who has seen the Messiah’s grace. I was compelled to obey the other Jeanne’s orders from a forced Madness Enhancement and was ordered only to find you and report back, but I’m countermanding that order with what will I have left! Face me, oh saviors of France, and let me see if you have the strength necessary!”

Her prana rapidly exploded in a burst of power. “The son of Leviathan, now protecting people…” she murmured. As she whispered, a gigantic creature appeared behind her. It looked like a giant turtle with a spiked carapace, but it bore the head of a black lion with a white mane, topped with black horns. Its feet were tipped with razor sharp fangs as its powerful tail lashed out. Its eyes glowed red with unbridled rage as it roared.

“Become a meteor! Tarasque!”

Martha backwards into the air past Tarasque, but instead of landing and leaving Tarasque to fight, she swung her staff and slammed it into the creature, causing the turtle-like dragon to shoot forward, spinning wildly out of control towards them. Mash raced forward and raised her shield, summoning her own power once more.

“Lord Chaldeas!

Her shield flashed and multiple magic circles appeared in front right before the power of Tarasque collided. It sparked and grinded against the magic shield as Mash grit her teeth, holding her ground. Her feet started sliding backwards from the sheer force as she put more of her strength into weathering the assault. Behind her was Ren, still resting with Marie, and Mozart who had taken up a rearguard. They were the last line of defense, but hopefully they would not be needed. Before long, the attack abated as Tarasque finally stopped and faded away.

That didn’t mean the others were idle, however. Archer and Lancer immediately moved around and struck at Martha’s flanks. The saint in turn sent a beam of light that knocked aside Lancer before raising her staff to ward off Archer’s strikes. Just as she shoved the latter back, she was shoved hard into a tree by cutting winds. She glared at the source – the catlike being who had a spectral duelist appearing behind him. Another being the similar powers as the abomination.

Before she could move towards him, she raised her staff once more as a flagpole clashed with it. She scowled at Jeanne who was bearing down on her. “To think, two saints must fight like this,” she commented as they traded blows.

Jeanne nodded, whirling her flagpole to thrust several times at Martha, who warded off each one. “Yes. Had circumstances been better, Saint Martha, I would have gladly fought at your side,” Jeanne replied. Backing off, she swept low, seeking to knock her off her feet. Martha jumped over, about to raise her staff when several arrows struck her on the side, sending her crashing to the ground. Lancer immediately was on her, with Martha only just managing to block him. “Tarasque!” she called out. The turtle dragon appeared once more and lashed out with its claws, forcing Lancer to back off.

Individually, Martha was stronger than the collection of Servants here, but they were working together as allies, covering for one another. She wasn’t about to get a good hit in while they were whittling her down. If she was fighting by herself, for herself, she would retreat or at least get some better bearings. But she couldn’t – not with the other Jeanne’s Madness Enhancement incorporated into her being. Nor did she want to – if this group couldn’t overcome her, they had no chance of defeating that Jeanne and winning. In a sense, what she was doing was perhaps the most merciful thing she could offer in the limited freedom she had.

A boxing glove appeared out of thin air and thrust forward, though she barely managed to duck in time. She caught a glimpse of the catlike being scowling in dissatisfaction before running to reposition himself. And once more, before she could pursue, Lancer had closed the distance and she had to ward him off. She cried in pain as two curved blades sliced and dug into her sides out of nowhere. She managed to push away Lancer and turned – and caught a flagpole to the gut.

“Forgive me, Martha,” Jeanne apologized.

Martha blinked and smiled, despite the pain and the blood pooling from her mouth now. “That’s up to Him, but there’s nothing to forgive, my fellow saint,” she replied. Jeanne withdrew her flagpole, causing blood to spill out of the new hole as Martha dropped her staff. It was a mortal wound. She could force herself to continue fighting, but she didn’t wish to. She simply allowed herself to collapse to the ground, holding the wound.

She looked back up at the group. “You’re strong… all of you…” she panted out. “But… not strong enough. The other Jeanne commands a great dragon on top of the wyverns. None of you will be able to defeat it. However…” She took another breath, wincing at the pain that caused her. “At Lyon, there’s a dragon slayer. Go there and seek his strength. He will be able to help.” She looked over at the still unconscious Ren as she slowly dissolved into golden light. “And… what I said before… forget it. Maybe one day I’ll be able to see him closer and make my own judgement. Until then… I believe in your trust, Jeanne d’Arc. May His will grant you victory.” With that, her form dissolved away, and she was gone.

All was silent now. Much of the forest lay in ruins thanks to their frenzied battle. Archer was keeping watch but it seemed that Martha had been the only one sent to tail them. Whatever the doppelganger planned, it was clear they weren’t part of her plans for some reason or other.

The only sound now was a faint breeze.

Ren’s eyes twitched as he slowly opened them. He winced as his body throbbed, feeling far too hot. The back of his head felt comfortable, but extremely sore. He glanced up. A young woman looked back down on him. She looked familiar. Then his muddled mind put the pieces together: she was one of the Servants who had helped cover their retreat earlier. “Ah, you’re awake, monsieur,” she chirped, smiling down at him.

He blinked, then let out a low laugh. Right, she had already introduced herself. Marie Antoinette. “This is the second time I ended up in a cute girl’s lap after overusing my magic circuits,” he joked. “Maybe I should do it a lot more often if the trend keeps up.”

Marie giggled. “Well, at least you are getting better if you can joke like that,” she replied. “Are you able to sit up?”

Ren paused, then moving his hands underneath, he pushed up. He winced as his circuits roared in protest, but he could power through it regardless. Once he sat up fully, he turned and bowed to Marie. “My thanks, your majesty,” he said, remembering his manners overall.

Marie clicked her tongue, wagging a finger. “Non, non, monsieur,” she chided him. “I am currently not currently queen of France. I am simply Marie. And if you are grateful, then do grace me with your name – it would not behoove me to call you something as unflattering as a ‘heretic’.”

He blinked at the title. A heretic? He was about to protest, but thinking about it, his mouth twisted into a wry smile. Well, he did kill two gods and brought forth the Devil in front of everyone. That title was rather fitting. “It’s Ren. Ren Amamiya,” he replied, holding out a hand for her to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marie.”

She smiled and took it. “And you as well, monsieur Amamiya.”

Before they could continue to converse, there was a shout of “JOKER!!”  and Morgana tackling Ren at full speed in a hug. Ren could only react with an ‘oof!’ as he was knocked right back over. “Hey Mona – ow ow ow, careful, I’m sore right now!”

“That’s the least you deserve from scaring us to death like that!” Morgana yelled, tears streaming down his eyes as he burrowed his head into Ren’s chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was beside you the whole time and I didn’t notice how much you were hurting. Just… you know you can always count on me, right? So… please tell me, okay? We’re partners! Always will be!”

Ren blinked in surprise, then softened into a smile as he gently pet Morgana’s head. “Yeah, I will,” he murmured. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“Gonna apologize to the rest of us for that as well?”

Blinking, he looked back up to see that the other Servants had joined them as well. Lancer grinned down at him with Archer frowning in concern. Mozart was a small distance away, humming to himself. Mash knelt down beside him, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, senpai?” she asked gently.

Ren nodded, smiling at the shielder. “Yeah, though I think I need to rest a bit longer.” Looking around, he saw Jeanne hiding behind the other Servants. Knowing she had been noticed, she shuffled forward and knelt beside him as well. “Ren, I beg for your forgiveness.”

That caught him off guard. “Forgive… For what?”

Jeanne gulped. “I had reacted unnecessarily towards your powers. I doubted your intentions and existence despite everything so far you have done for my people and for France,” she lowered her head. “I am still in need of your powers and abilities, but I will not fault you if you rescind it. The fault is mine and mine alone and will bear all responsibility.”

Ren blinked several times, then he let out a chuckle. Despite everything throbbing, he felt lighter than he had in a while. “No, don’t worry about it, Jeanne,” he replied easily, waving her apology away. “I mean, I DID summon the Devil after all, mainly for the shock value so we can get away. It worked out well enough – just didn’t think of what would happen afterward.”

“No, you certainly didn’t,” Archer pointed out. “We should count ourselves fortunate that the doppelganger hasn’t mustered all her forces to track us down after that little display. She only sent one Servant as a scout, and we’ve dealt with her.”

At that, Ren looked over to see the devastated forest nearby. He scratched his cheek. “Um, yeah, I can definitely see that,” he muttered. “Still, I’m really sorry for lashing out at you guys,” he apologized, looking at each person there. “Things have been…. A bit stressful lately. And I didn’t have a decent outlet. I’ll try to have better control of myself. I can’t afford to lose focus, after all.”

Lancer chuckled. “Kid, I’ve been lashed out at by a lot worse,” he replied. “You’re doing a lot better than you think. Most other greenhorns would’ve broken far quicker, far earlier, and far worse than you.”

Ren nodded gratefully. However, Morgana’s serious expression caught his eye. “What’s up, Mona?” he asked.

Morgana looked carefully at Ren, opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. "No, nothing. Don't worry about it." he replied.

He frowned, but got the gist of what he was about to say. Igor’s warning about telling magi about the Metaverse was still very clear in his mind. Still, the longer they held their tongues, the worse things were going to get. He gulped as he considered, looking around. Everyone else was looking him expectantly. He took a deep breath and made his decision. “After this Singularity is resolved,” he said. “We'll talk more about what's going on." Morgana looked up in surprise, then gave an approving nod.

“Ah, to not be privy to such secrets,” bemoaned Mozart. “How dreadful!” Then he smiled. “But that matters little to me – at the very least, it is clear you’re the conductor here. However it ends, I do wish to see what kind of concert you will perform!”

Ren blinked, then chuckled. Mash decided to pipe up. “Um, senpai, we’re currently on a leyline right now,” she explained. “If you wish, I can set things up and have supplies sent to us? Particularly medical supplies. We might need to treat you in case your magic circuits caused any damage.”

He considered. “We can also switch our Servants, right?” he asked. Mash nodded in confirmation. Ren nodded. “In that case, Lancer, can you switch you with Saber? Since our presence is basically revealed at this point, there’s little point in remaining a low profile. We might as well have some more firepower.”

Lancer chuckled. “What, I don’t have enough for you, Master?” he asked jokingly before nodding. “Yeah, you got it, kid. I’ll tag out. You be careful though – it’ll probably get worse before it gets any better.”

Ren scoffed. “Yeah, you’re telling me.” He started to get back up before gentle but firm hands grabbed hold of him and pulled him back down – right back into Marie’s lap.

“Monsieur Amamiya, you are still in no state to move,” she admonished. “Do rest here for now. If you are needed, I’m sure everyone else will call upon you.” Meanwhile, Mash was off to the side burning with rage, but she didn’t react or say anything. It was enough for Archer and Lancer to edge slightly away from her though – they certainly didn’t want to deal with it.

He could only blink in surprise, then sighed. “I’m not gonna convince anyone else here that I’m fine and can help out, right?” he deadpanned.

“Nope,” came the simultaneous reply.

Sighing, he reluctantly allowed himself to rest on Marie’s legs once more. “Still, did one of you wallop me to stop me?” he asked, rubbing his aching head.

Everyone stopped then looked at Morgana, who began sweating buckets. Ren’s gaze slowly turned to his close friend.

“Morgana…” His voice was soft but the menace was clear.

“Wow, look at the time, Joker, you REALY need to get to sleep, so sleep!” the catlike being hurriedly said. “Now Mash, come on, we need to get that summoning up for supplies and Saber! Come on, let’s go, let’s go!” Mash could only stammer as he started pushing her on the back of her legs to get her moving. Lancer just followed with a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously enjoying the situation too much.

Ren finally sighed, then turned his gaze towards Archer. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked. Archer said nothing, but a small shift in his body language gave Ren the answer. “Tell me what I need to know. We’ll figure out a plan from there.”

And so Archer told him how the encounter with Martha went. And Ren’s mind boiled with the information as exhaustion caught up with him and he eventually drifted off once more.

They had much to do the next day.

Chapter Text

“Why do things always have to be so complicated?” Morgana bemoaned.

Ren had to agree. They struck out for the city of Lyon, which was directly south of where they camped the night before. However, Archer with his vision could see that Lyon was nothing more than a ruin at that point. However, the map showed there was a town only a small distance away to the southeast, which thankfully was still standing. They were about to set out but stopped when Mash pointed out something:

The group, frankly, was far too suspicious for any regular French citizen. The Dragon Witch was the doppelganger Jeanne d’Arc, so having her head in would only cause chaos. Saber, who was a dead ringer for Jeanne, wouldn’t work either. Ren and Archer looked far too foreign to easily gain their trust for information, Morgana looked too inhuman despite his adorable looks (“I’m NOT adorable! I’m cool and awesome!”), Mash refused to leave Ren, and Mozart was…. Mozart. Thus, by process of elimination, only Marie could be sent in to gather intel.

Thus, when they explained this to Marie and asked her, she simply smiled beautifully as always. “No problem whatsoever!” she chirped. “I do wish to see my people once more and speak with them – this will be a marvelous opportunity! Sit tight and I will be back soon! Mozart, do behave! Au revoir!” With that, she turned and walked toward the town.

That left the rest of the group, resting under a tree on the outskirts. It was a warm afternoon, with both Ren and Morgana staving off sleep from how comfortable it was. Archer kept watch as he always did while Mash sat beside Ren, torn between whether to leave Ren be or ask if he wanted to rest his head on her lap again. The memory of Marie doing so still burned in her mind and she wouldn’t feel satisfied until she could do so again. Mozart didn’t seem to care too much, enjoying the wind and quietly humming a song to himself.

Jeanne and Saber were some distance away, looking over the land. “My condolences, Jeanne,” Saber murmured. “It is never easy to see one’s homeland put to the torch or its people slaughtered. I will do my utmost to assist you in saving your home.”

The saint smiled sadly. “That is encouraging to hear, Artoria,” she replied softly. “I thank you.” Then she giggled, which drew a questioning gaze from Saber. “It’s ironic though – the English were the ones who had invaded us to begin with,” she pointed out. “And now, an English king is here to save it. I must admit, were the situation not quite so serious, it would be rather hilarious.”

Saber blinked, then gave a wry smile as she turned to look back over the land. “Welsh, but I see your point,” she offhandedly corrected. “While I may be the king, the English here served under a different sovereign – I will neither condemn nor defend their actions.” That in turn drew a raised eyebrow from Jeanne. “My time and now are centuries apart. Politics are difficult even in the best of times, and I fought off many invaders during my rule. What reasons they have would be their own, and the reasons for war can be great or petty – often both.”

Jeanne was silent for a moment as she considered. Right, King Arthur was also known for fighting off the invasions of Saxons during her time. “So you do not condemn your people – the English – ravaging my lands and killing my people?” she asked quietly.

Artoria sighed. “War is an ugly affair, Jeanne,” she replied. “It matters little whether you’re defending your home or invading a new territory. For the sake of necessity and the wills behind them people will be killed. And war unleashes a rampant cruelty even in common man – I’ve often seen it turn even the most mild-mannered farmer into a savage individual who lusts for blood, glory, and plunder. It is normally the duty of the officers, generals, and kings to curb such cruelty but… well, such cruelty has its place in forcing an enemy to capitulate.”

Her lips were drawn in a hard line as she remembered the battlefields she treaded. There was heroism and cruelty from both sides. She had captured prisoners of war and had them interrogated for information. Chivalry and valor had their places, but when it came to war, more often than not it was pushed aside. Victory was what that mattered in the end – and too often it was bought dearly with blood.

The saint was silent for a bit. “Be that as it may, I do still have a mandate from Him,” she replied. “I was to lead my people against the English and repel their invasion. To preserve their peace and happiness however I can. Even now, I would do my utmost to lead and inspire them if I could – even if my doppelganger works to do otherwise. I will do so, no matter what. Though… I will need to remember that I must tread on many bodies in order to do so.”

Saber smiled sadly. “To have the courage and passion to defend your homeland despite everything is indeed praiseworthy as it is,” she reassured her. “France will shine all the brighter for your actions without a doubt. I look forward to your success, Saint Jeanne d’Arc.”

Jeanne blinked, then shook her head with a chuckle. “I was a simple peasant girl who was given a mandate,” she replied, shrugging off the compliment.

Artoria chuckled. “And I was a squire who drew Caliburn from the stone. Your point?” she asked.

They looked at each other for a second, then both of them laughed.

A shift in presence caught their eyes – or more that it was unignorable. Marie bounced back towards them, with a broad smile on her faces. “Welcome back, Marie!” Saber called out with a smile. She had already been admonished by her for trying to observe formalities when they first met. “I take it your information gathering has been successful?”

Marie nodded, beaming. “Oui, most successful and productive, I should say!” she happily replied. Saber and Jeanne nodded as they began moved back to the others. Ren and Morgana had lost their fight against the comfiness of the afternoon and were quietly dozing off against a tree. Mash was curled up beside them, try to appear as though she was keeping watch – unlike Archer, who actually was keeping watch but still within hearing distance.

“Ah, welcome back, Maria!” Mozart exclaimed. “I was on the cusp of a new symphony, but seeing your beauty as driven it from my thoughts! Ah, such woe, only to be healed by your soothing words!”

“You and your one-dimensional passion for music scales,” Marie berated without dropping the smile. Then she looked over at the sleeping Ren and Morgana. “Oh my, and here I didn’t expect to see two sleeping beauties!” she exclaimed. Before anyone could stop her, she swooped in and planted a kiss on top of Morgana’s head and one on Ren’s lips. “Bonjour! I am back!” she greeted happily.

Ren blinked in surprise as he quickly awoke. Her approaching presence had already stirred him from his sleep but he certainly didn’t expect the kiss. Morgana’s blush somehow showed past his fur and was holding his head where she kissed him. “Wh-wh-wh-THAT’S RESERVED FOR LADY ANN!” he screeched, aghast.

Marie just giggled. “Ah, forgive me, monsieur Morgana,” she said, petting Morgana on the head who, despite himself, ended up purring under her soft touch. “I had not realized you were waiting for someone else. What about you, monsieur Amamiya? Were there any issues?”

The Master could only blink, then chuckled. “No, but a warning next time would be appreciated,” he replied easily. No girl he had hung out with back during his adventures had been quite so forward. Inwardly he was rather panicking that a girl had so brazenly kissed him on the lips but he managed to slip the mask on. “I’m guessing this is a common greeting in France then?” he asked, glancing over at Jeanne.

Jeanne, who was blushing madly, frantically shook her head which raised an eyebrow from Ren. Mozart laughed heartily. “Sorry, just ignore that,” he explained for her. “Maria has a bad habit of kissing everything. It caused chaos in the palace. There were actually factions formed of people she had kissed and people she hadn’t, after all. It wasn’t recorded though – no playwright would ever write how the palace nearly fell apart before the revolution!”

That was met with stunned silence from Ren and Morgana, as well as Saber and Jeanne as they all looked at the pouting Rider (Archer was very pointedly facing way for some reason).  “What? You guys don’t do kisses?” she asked incredulously. “I simply do it when it feels like my heart is being squeezed by someone. I’m sure you do as well, Jeanne!”

Jeanne immediately broke out into a deep shade of red as everyone turned toward the saint. “I d-do no s-such thing!” she stammered. “O-only with someone I was going to marry and – wait, we’re getting off track here! We need the information you had gotten from the town!” Her expression fell back into a more serious demeanor, but it hadn’t erased the blush that still remained on her cheeks. Ren merely smiled without comment, Morgana snickered, Mash just looked between the two confused, and Archer and Saber remained stone faced.

Marie huffed but proceeded to explain the information she had gotten anyway: While Lyon was destroyed, its refugees had settled in that town. It had a protector – a knight that suddenly appeared, defending it from wyverns and monsters of all sorts. However, he had been overwhelmed by the Dragon Witch’s minions and has been missing since.

“Chances are good that’s our dragon slayer,” Archer commented. “But even if it wasn’t, having more help from such a knight would be helpful.” Ren nodded in agreement.

Her report wasn’t done yet, however. Apparently, a general by the name of Gilles de Rais was leading a contingent to retake Lyon. At the mention of his name, Jeanne’s eyes widened in recognition. “Gilles is still here?” she asked breathlessly. Marie smiled and nodded. Jeanne breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good,” she murmured. “That’s good to hear.”

The Rider’s smile broadened. “Would you like to meet with him, ma cherie?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Jeanne shook her head. “It would be best not to,” she replied. “My doppelganger is currently causing far too much grief in my country. If I showed up amidst the French army, there would be no small amount of complications. No, it’s best if we worked independently from him.”

“And the real reason?” Ren casually asked, looking over from where he sat. He had been with people long enough to know when they were concealing some other reason.

The saint blanched. “Even in the best of times, Gilles can be… much,” she sheepishly admitted, pressing the tips of her index fingers together in a nervous tic. “His loyalty is second to none, but his devotions can be a bit unsettling. It would be better if we didn’t intervene with him unless necessary.”

Marie smiled sympathetically. “Ah, yes, I understand those types myself. Much like Mozart here, only his dedication is to his music with me somehow on top of that, which is only barely tolerable with his rather gross personality.”

Mozart gasped. “Oh, how you wound me, Maria,” he melodramatically exclaimed. Then he grinned. “But yes, I did sell my soul to music so I can understand that sort of fervor.”

The queen rolled her eyes at him again but faced the others with a more serious expression. “That being said, Lyon is currently a den of monsters right now from what the refugees have told me,” she explained. “If we’re heading there, we best be careful.”

Saber frowned. “You said Gilles de Rais was marching on Lyon, correct?” Marie nodded. “The monsters there will make short work of any human soldier. We should clear them out, else we have a slaughter on our hands. We can search for signs of this knight while we’re there.”

Jeanne d’Arc paled at the thought and immediately nodded. Everyone else stood up or got ready in the meantime. With that, they left, leaving the town behind. Morgana muttered again about how he didn’t have his van form. Ren couldn’t help but agree. He wasn’t going to blame Morgana for it but having it to travel would cut down on their travel time considerably – a massive boon given how time was a very limited resource these days.

Their business done, they made their way over to the destroyed city of Lyon, only an hour or so trek to the northwest. As they moved, grey clouds began moving in, shrouding the sun as they approached the city. What they beheld was even worse than La Charite. The city had been charred black and ruined from the work of countless dragons. What should be bodies was now a horde of shambling husks, moaning faintly in undeath as they gripped their broken weapon they once bravely yet futilely held in life. In the middle of the devastated city was the remains of the castle, crumbling and falling away.

Ren and Morgana could only look at the devastation with restrained horror. At La Charite, they were only just a few minutes late from the attack that killed everyone. Here, however, the damage was far less fresh – the scent of blood and ash faint or gone, replaced only with the decay of the rotting corpses from the zombies themselves. The burnt ruins didn’t smoke, the flames that had consumed them long since extinguished from lack of fuel and weather. Jeanne could only lower her head and murmured a quiet prayer for her fallen countrymen.

The beeping of Ren’s watch caught their attention. Tapping it, Roman got through, though his image was staticky and threaten to cut out at any time. “We’ve found traces of the Servant,” he said, his voice heavily distorted. “He’ll be at the castle! Hurry, we don’t have much-!” The transmission was cut off before Roman could finish his message. All of them nodded grimly as they advanced on the castle ruins. The Servants formed a protective cordon around them and cut down the zombies as they approached.

Ren glanced over to Saber. Unlike when they fought the other Saber in Fuyuki, he couldn’t see her sword. The faintest bit of an outline as she swung something and cut through her targets, but otherwise not a thing. Well, since Saber was King Arthur, seeing her sword would be enough of a giveaway as to her identity overall. Maybe during the Metaverse… he discarded it. Their weapons worked because of cognitions, meaning the creatures they fought against needed to be able to properly see their weapons for them to be effective. Invisibility wouldn’t really do much.

As they reached the castle, the roars of wyverns filled the air. Archer turned and his eyes widened. “I see the dragon Martha was talking about,” he commented. “It’s huge. And I’m also seeing the doppleganger Jeanne d’Arc on top of them, lots of wyverns and… Servants.” Archer did a count and his eyes widened. “She must’ve summoned more – counting the doppelganger, we’ve seven Servants coming down on us.” Ren paled. It seemed the doppelganger wanted all of them dead as fast as possible and brought out all possible stops in order to do so.

“Should we take shelter in the castle?” Morgana asked desperately.

Saber shook her head. “Not with the dragon present,” he pointed out. “With the castle in its current state, it can easily just collapse it on us. No, much as I loathe to say it, it would seem our best opportunity would be open combat.”

Ren scowled. “That doesn’t mean we have to make it easy for them,” he growled. The doppelganger already knew they were here, and with such numbers that would mean hiding wouldn’t do much. Nor would it be effective with the streets still as populated with zombies as they were. The sky cracked as it started pouring down rain, sheets of it splattering against the ground. Ren scowled. Great.

“Archer, provide cover fire,” he commanded. “See if you can scatter them and make it harder for them to land and gather. Once the dragon gets closer, get its attention away from us as best as you can.” Archer nodded, summoning his bow in response. “Mash, Jeanne, you’ll be with me. We’ll head into the town and try to pick them off as best we can. Hit and run – if the situation goes bad even slightly, we’ll turn and head off!

Mash gripped her shield tightly as Jeanne nodded. “By your lead.”

He turned to the others. “Morgana, head with Saber,” he continued. “You’ll be doing the same thing. If either of us are in a bad situation, we’ll fall back and rendezvous at the castle gate.”

Morgana nodded, his large eyes narrowed in grim determination. “Alright Joker. But you better be careful yourself, okay?”

There was one last bit of orders. “Marie, Mozart, head into the castle,” he ordered. “Comb it as fast as you can for the Servant. We’ll buy you as much time as possible.”

“Oh, how considerate of you, monsieur Amamiya. The rain does terrible things to my hair after all,” Marie joked with a light smile. “We shall see it done. Do stay safe – France and the world will have need of brave men like you before all is said and done, I should think.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ren had to smirk. “When does it not?” he asked rhetorically. His smile faded as a much deeper, powerful roar filled the air. He felt shivers of fear up his spine despite himself. The roar of the creature felt primeval, activating the evolved instinct of fear within all humans when faced with a supremely more powerful predator. One that made it clear that, in a head on confrontation, there was no match.

But still, his mask slid over his expression. Once more, Ren wasn’t needed for the battlefield. It was Joker that would see them all through, just as he had done through countless palaces. “One last order: No one is to die here,” he said sternly, looking at all of them. “This isn’t an all-out battle. Once we have the Servant, Marie or Mozart will signal us and we’ll retreat. We’ll need whatever strength we can accumulate and a better battlefield.” This was the first time Ren was commanding people against such overwhelming forces, but it still felt familiar nevertheless: discussing plans and issuing orders to a small group of people on the field.

A faint pang rang out in his heart but there wasn’t any time for that.

“Let’s go,” Ren commanded. The group, sans Archer, Marie, and Mozart dashed into the town, splitting off in different directions. The latter two Servants quickly ducked into the castle on their own mission as Archer summoned swords and drew his bow. He swiftly fired off a volley of arrows towards the swarm rapid approaching them – and his eyes widened as his shots were all intercepted and exploded well before they closed the distance. There could only be one explanation: the doppelganger had an Archer class Servant with hem.

Ren looked up. Seeing through the rain, he quickly noticed none of Archer’s shots were hitting. He scowled. They needed a distraction. He glanced at two Servants with him for an idea and noticed something. Jeanne’s weapon was a flag. And flags could be used for many things – especially for grabbing someone’s attention. “Jeanne, Mash, come with me!” he ordered. They both blinked but immediately nodded. They ran through the streets, swiftly killing off whatever zombies were in their way. The rain was pouring down, making it hard to see as water ran down from his hair in front of his eyes, but that didn’t matter.

Once they were a good distance away to the side, he looked around. There was a building that was still relatively intact, with the roof more or less in one piece. “Mash, get me up there,” he said. “Jeanne, you come up too!” Mash nodded, grabbing hold of Ren and immediately leaping up. She grabbed on to the edge without too much trouble and threw Ren up onto the roof, a feat easily done with her Servant level of strength. Jeanne quickly hauled herself up as well.

They both looked at Ren for further orders. Ren himself was looking. Shielding his eyes from the rain splashing in front of his eyes, he could still somewhat see the wyverns and the dragon. He nodded. This would do. “Jeanne, wave your flag and get their attention!” he commanded.

Jeanne blinked. “Will they be able to see it as this distance?” she asked.

Ren chuckled. “Oh, they’ll be looking in our direction alright,” he replied. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The saint hesitated, the nodded. Unfurling her flag, she raised her flag – the symbol of the monarchy of France and the crown of Heaven - and waved it proudly. Ren stood beside her as he tore off his metaphorical mask once more.

“Metatron!”

The great metallic angel’s presence was felt immediately. The holy aura was almost overpowering to both Jeanne and Mash who barely resisted falling to their knees in awe. About the same time, they could feel the killing intent radiate from the enemy party straight towards them. Despite the overwhelming presence of their enemies, Ren smirked. He knew there was no way they could ignore such a powerful figure, and even less that the doppelganger would ignore seeing such a powerful angel at the side of Jeanne d’Arc

Before they could rally, from the other side of the contingent came a gigantic gust of wind. It seemed Saber and Morgana had the same idea of grabbing their attention as well, though in a more direct manner. The gust blew the wyverns off course, even causing the dragon to turn around and roar in that direction. However, it also had one further consequence that they had forgotten about:

Archer’s arrows were no longer intercepted by the enemy Archer. They rapidly swarmed in, seeking out exposed necks and wings of wyverns, with several of them exploding amidst the heavily grouped air force, causing them to collide and crash against once another, with a good deal of wyverns shrieking as they tumbled out of the sky.

As the contingent tried to make up their minds on where to strike first, several exploding arrows hit the dragon directly in the face. The dragon roared in sheer rage and anger and began taking off towards the source of those arrows. The doppelganger mounted on its back screamed at it to turn around, but the dragon paid no heed. All it cared about was going after the insignificant speck that dared to offend it. Taken away from the main force, she was unable to properly give orders, only left screaming fruitlessly at her greatest asset now liability.

The red-mantled hero smirked as he began moving from rooftop to rooftop, clearing to clearing, keeping away from the dragon’s wrath and maintaining his range as he continued to bombard and taunt the dragon. This would be his battle from here on out.

Ren, Mash, and Jeanne barely got down from the roof in time. A wyvern had barreled straight toward their direction, its wings punctured by several of Archer’s arrows. It crashed headlong into a building past them, turning the ruined structure into nothing more than rubble. The rubble then shifted, and something – or rather, someone – burst through, climbing out of the rubble.

A young woman with green hair climbed out. Her features, normally beautiful, were twisted with rage and bloodlust as her green hair, ending in gold, matted against her body from the rain. Her light turquoise dress was soaked and clung to her lithe figure, but instead of any allure, it only accented her movements, which were more akin to a coiled beast ready to spring. In her hand was a bow, gripped so tightly Ren wouldn’t be surprised if it broke under the strain.

“Kill, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!” she snarled out. Her grass-green eyes only reflected sheer hatred. No reason or conversation would ever get to her.

Jeanne scowled. “Madness enhancement,” she stated simply, raising her flag. “To think, my doppelganger would force such a thing on other Servants so they would serve her. She truly isn’t me after all. Ren, Mash, please assist me – I wish to break the madness of the Servant and grant her peace.”

Mash nodded, stepping up beside her with her shield raised. “Of course, Jeanne,” she said, ready.

Ren smirked behind her. “A dance in the rain with three ladies? Who could say no to that?” he joked. Jeanne and Mash blushed but their expressions didn’t change, nor did they turn away from the snarling Servant. There was a time for jokes, but they all knew he was serious. They would deal with her and move on.

The green Archer drew her bow, and Jeanne and Mash charged.

Saber and Morgana moved, her armored feet splattering against the soaked stone streets as Morgana easily ran lightly beside her. They had also seen Archer’s shots were being intercepted and had been looking for a good spot to engage the enemy themselves when they felt that holy aura, even over such a long distance. Saber was the first to shake out of it. It provided her with an opportunity: it distracted the enemy formation considerably. Raising her blade, she lashed out, using the gusts of wind that normally coated her sword to form a hurricane wind.

“Strike air!”

Morgana blinked, shocked out of his reverie, but took his cue as well. “Zorro!” he called out. The musketeer persona appeared once more. Tracing a pattern with his rapier, it joined Saber’s wind and amplified it, causing the gust to be even stronger as it slammed into the wyverns, causing havoc among them. The enemy Archer, jostled by the winds and the other wyverns crashing into her couldn’t maintain a good firing position, allowing their Archer to pelt them with anti-air fire.

Both Saber and Morgana smirked. Saber had qualms at first on working alongside a Master that shared the same name as the witch who had led Mordred into destroying her kingdom, but Morgana had been nothing less than capable and loyal. Maybe a touch arrogant, but frankly she had dealt with far worse with the Round Table.

“Ha, nice going, Saber! That got them messed up!” he crowed.

Saber smiled. “Same to you, Master,” she replied genuinely. “But our work is not done. Come, we should move to-“

“AAAAAAARTHUUUUUUURRR!!!!!”

At the scream, they both turned to look. A dark shape jumped out of the contingent, landing on the rooftops before crashing down to the ground. With a wild scream, the dark figure moved in a blur, holding a long cylindrical shape. Saber barely reacted in time, raising her blade to intercept the blow. Her poor footing combined with the slick streets forced her to give way to the blow, her feed sliding for purchase. Saber scowled as she beheld the figure in front of her: A pitch-black knight, with smoke radiating from its masterfully crafted armor. The only sign of life was the red gleam from its eye ports.

Saber gulped. This knight called her name and she could feel familiarity with it, even though nothing about it was clear to her for some reason. All she knew was that it was most likely a Knight of the Round Table, which meant only one thing: This would be a difficult battle for her.

“Saber!” Morgana called out. He was about to race over to her side when his instincts flared into hyper drive. He dodged to the side – and barely moved out of the way of a thin rapier, slicing his cheek. Sliding away, he looked to see one of the Servants he had originally saw: the elegantly dressed Servant in blue. Holding a rapier, they blinked as Morgana took out his cutlass and rallied himself.

“Oh, you’ve sharp instincts, monsieur cat,” they commented. “I am impressed. It is not often in my line of work that one is able to detect my presence, nor react so quickly.”

“Yeah well, moving about stealthily is my bread and butter, so I’m used to it,” Morgana retorted. “Who the heck are you anyway? If you’re gonna duel me, you might as well tell me who you are.”

The Servant smiled. “Normally, I’m not the type to bandy words about – information is quite deadly, as you most likely well know,” they commented lightly. “However, the other Jeanne forced a Madness Enhancement on me so I would obey her orders, so I will tell you what I can: I am Chevalier d’Eon, Saber class. The Knight of the White Lily and a spy. I shall not ask who you are, else I am compelled to report it.”

Morgana smiled sadly. “Heh. A spy as elegant as you, huh?” he asked. “A shame – I think we’d get along. But sorry, I gotta take you down here.”

D’Eon smiled. “You will try,” they replied, raising their rapier.

“Non, not here either.”

“Ah, this din of battle assaults my ears! Oh, woe is me!”

“I will personally box your ears if that’s what it takes for you to search faster, Mozart!”

“Maria, anything but that!”

Marie and Mozart quickly ran through the crumbling hallways of the castle. The roars of the dragons and wyverns, combined with the clash of weapons, echoed all the way even into the innards of the castle through numerous holes in the architecture. They opened another door, which led to the ruins of a sitting room. Nothing there either.

The Rider clicked her tongue in annoyance. Though the Servant was somewhere in the castle, they couldn’t find them even after searching through heaven knows how many rooms. She wasn’t about to give up, however. Their allies were counting on them. And Mozart, despite his whining and complaints, had been searching just as hard as Marie was, even trying to pinpoint any sounds through the noise of battle.

They were about to continue when a presence filled the hallway. Turning around, they saw a Servant appearing before them. White haired, dressed in a black coat with high white pauldrons. His ice-blue eyes were serene but filled with a bloodlust that sent chills down their spines. In his hand was a black greatsword, tipped with a large piece at the end. It was a terrible sword: It couldn’t slash well, and with the piece in front neither could it stab. As a tool of war, it was impractical and useless.

But it could do one thing, and one thing well: It could chop and sever. As an executioner’s weapon, it was ideal.

“Sanson, so you’re here,” Marie said, recognizing the Servant immediately. After all, she could hardly forget her own executioner. “To think this is how we’d be reunited – it is less that auspicious, no?”

Sanson smiled. “Ah, perhaps to you, but for me, it is indeed auspicious,” he replied kindly. “An execution requires qualifications. As such, I am the only one fitting to execute you. My blade has been honed time and time again, just so I can bequeath to you my gift again, this one singular bliss I can share with you. Tell me, Marie, did you not feel that rapturous pleasure as my blade descended on you?”

Marie shuddered. “Sanson… you took my execution seriously,” she murmured, her cheerful demeanor gone. “And for all your heartlessness, you never looked down on criminals. For that, I thank you gratefully and cherish you. However, as you are now, you are nothing more than a killer – a tormentor for criminals as opposed to their savior as an executioner. And besides –“ Here she pouted. “I already know enough men with perverse hobbies! I do not require yet another!”

Despite Marie’s rejection, he smiled. “Ah, Marie, to hear your love from your lips still gladdens me. But rest assured, I’ve only gotten better since then. Please, allow me to show you.” He then turned to Mozart, who had been watching with a scowl on his face. His smile turned to a frown. “Though I do agree with what you stated about men with perverse hobbies. I doubt Marie would ever indulge in your fetishes, Mozart.”

Mozart scoffed. “She would no doubt partake in my perversity than deal with your insanity, Sanson,” he snapped.

“Speak such nonsense one more time and it will be your last, Mozart,” Marie growled.

“Sanson, we both wished for Marie’s heart,” Mozart continued, ignoring her. “But a woman’s heart doesn’t come from her beheading – what kind of twisted logic is that? For someone as pragmatic and rational as you, such a speech might as well have been spun by the devil himself! And indeed, we just met him less than a day ago!” Marie shuddered as Sanson blinked, confused. “So kindly perish by our hands! I will be more than happy to play a requiem for you, in hopes you shall come to your senses!”

The berserk Assassin frowned. “Mozart, my blade right now is strictly only for Marie’s neck,” he stated. “I do have one more companion with me, though he might have gotten lost in the hallways. Please entertain yourself with – ah, here he comes now.”

“Ah, Christine, Christine. Even now, I can hear your dulcet tones. Oh, Christine. Are you here, perhaps?”

Another Servant appeared behind them. A hauntingly beautiful young man, dressed elegantly in a black suit with a tattered cloak. His handsomeness however was marred by a smile that was tinged in both madness and sadness. A white, bloody mask and bandages covered half his face, with his hands tipped in bloody claws.

“Hm, your song, I wish to hear it,” he murmured, looking over at them with a similar serene smile as Sanson had. “Are you Cristine? Is your tones as melodious as hers? Ah, I wish to hear it! Your song! Sing for me as I shall sing for you! I, the Phantom of the Opera, shall swear it! Christine!”

Mozart scowled as he moved to intercept the Phantom. “My, certainly not how I expected to encounter a fellow musician!” he remarked. “Though I sold my soul to music, you, my good friend, certainly do take it to extremes even I find distasteful. I am not Christine, but if it’s music you wish to hear, I shall certainly oblige! Your requiem!”

“Not… Christine?” the Phantom asked, his held tilting. His faced twisted into an ugly snarl. “Then I wish to hear no song from you – it will be as wretched as nails on a chalkboard, as ugly as I! Ah, Christine, let me hear your song once more, after I kill these wretched creatures who would dare defile your notes!”

“Well, I have to say I’m quite offended now!” Mozart growled. “Come now, Phantom of the Opera. Let us see who here is best at the end of the day: Your song or my compositions!”

And thus raged the battle of the ruined Lyon.

Chapter Text

Saber slid back from yet another heavy hit from the mysterious armored Servant. She grimaced as she held up her beautiful blade, ready for another rally. Despite the fact that Berserker had his senses all taken leave of him – hence his name – his fighting prowess was another matter entirely. The cylindrical thing he wielded was nothing more than a pipe that she eventually managed to sheer through. Berserker only grabbed a pair of wooden sticks, which immediately turned black with red veins, and re-engaged.

“AAAAAAAAARRRRTHUUUUURRRR!!!”

And there was the fact that it kept screaming her name and somehow knew her swordsmanship well. She was a master swordswoman, with only a few she would call her peer. But that was it: a few. She was aware that those who could match her skill with a sword would be all over the world, but with the Servant’s choice of dress – a medieval suit of armor – that narrowed things considerably. She had no doubt it was one of the Knights of the Round Table.

The question was, which one?

“Enough of this!” she barked, drawing herself up. Her golden hair was pressed and matted against her face while her drenched dress clung to her slight figure underneath her armor, making her look less impressive overall. Nevertheless, her voice still rang out clear and bright through the rain. “If you must fight me because you fight under a different master, then so be it! I commend your valor! However, it is beneath you to not declare who you are! If you answer to me as your liege, then name yourself!”

The armored figure neither moved nor said anything. For a moment, the only sound was the rain and the faint clash of steel behind them as Morgana and the other Servant clashed behind them. Then the Berserker shuddered, steel groaning at the movement. Saber braced herself – and her eyes widened as the knight dropped the stick and summoned a new weapon. A much larger one, comprised of multiple small cylinders that started rotating faster and faster. The last time she saw such a weapon was-!

“AAAAAAAAARRRRTHUUUUURRRRR!!!!” it howled as the cylinders began rotating blurringly fast. Saber scowled and immediately ran, taking the opportunity to grab Morgana by the head as she moved. Just in the nick of time: As she ran past a corner into an alley, the gatling gun roared to life, its prana-enhanced bullets shredding everything in front of it. The pavement was rapidly pounded to dust as the rubble was reduced to nothing under its withering hail. D’Eon barely managed to dodge in time, though they had to break off with a scowl as blood seeped from their leg where several bullets found their mark.

Saber kept running with Morgana in her grip as she turned another corner, seeking cover and shelter from the knight – no, Lancelot’s weapon. Her memories of her Fourth Holy Grail War were a bit blurry, but there was no mistaking that weapon. What knight Servant utilized a gatling gun like that, after all?

“H-heh, thanks Saber. Things were getting a bit dicey there.”

The Servant of the Sword looked down at acknowledge her Master – and her eyes widened. Morgana was cut from multiple places and was badly injured. His cutlass was still in his hand, but his gaze was dull, blood staining his normally black and white fur. It was clear that the fight against another Servant hadn’t gone well for him despite his best efforts.

She scowled. This was her fault. She had gotten so distracted by the presence of another Knight of the Round and as a result, was negligent in protecting her Master. Morgana had to fight against a Servant all by himself and despite his unique skills and abilities, he was still no match for the enhanced, superhuman capabilities of one.

“Can you heal?” she asked worriedly. Morgana glanced up at her before summoning Zorro. He didn’t have a chance to earlier; every attempt to call forth Zorro before had been interrupted by D’Eon before he could do anything. It made sense – no serious combatant would allow their opponent to summon up their power or utilize their specialty.

The grinning musketeer appeared once more and drew another pattern into the air. A green light surrounded Morgana as his wounds closed. He sighed in relief as his injuries were sealed… but as Zorro faded away, his fatigue hit him like a truck. He collapsed on his rear as his small legs gave out.

“Master?!” Saber asked.

Morgana looked up at her with a weary grin. “Healing with a Persona normally doesn’t do much for actual wounds,” he explained. “It’s usually more spurts of energy to keep everyone going. But guess with how it works now, I can actually heal injuries. But man, it’s way more tiring to use now than before. I’ll be good with some time to rest, but…”

“Time and rest are luxuries we don’t have,” Saber concluded for him, nodding with a stern expression. Still, she noted the term that Morgana let slip in his explanation. A Persona… She heard that term before. She would need to consult the library or perhaps ask Rider about it when they returned.

And they would return, no matter what.

However, before long, they noticed something: How quiet it was. No more screams of Berserker and the roar of his gunfire died down long ago. All that remained was the sound of falling rain. However, neither of them relaxed for a second. Like hell they would believe an enemy combatant like Berserker would just up and leave. It wasn’t like they even ran all that far. They had to be ready for an attack at any-

The walls beside them burst as Berserker charged out, howling. Instead of the gatling gun or even pieces of debris it had been using as impromptu weapons, Berserker now wielded a beautiful longsword, though tainted and profaned. She barely raised her own just in time to block the strike, being forced back under the sheer mad strength of the knight. The black fog from Berserker is gone, and it was like a haze in her mind was lifted. With that blade, there was absolutely no doubt about it.

“Zorro!”

With another call from Morgana, a gust of razor wind slammed into Lancelot from behind. He roared in rage as he stumbled forward from it, allowing Saber to regain her balance and swing her blade, shoving Lancelot off her. She smiled appreciatively to Morgana, who only gave a tired grin in turn. The other Saber Servant hadn’t returned yet, but she would need to keep a close eye on Morgana. He was in no condition to continue fighting. If that Saber Servant reappeared, it would be a trivial matter to finish him off.

“Lancelot,” she stated. At the mention of his name, the Berserker Servant froze, his sword – Arondight – clasped in a death grip in his gauntleted hand. “To see you like this is pitiful. I know my actions as a king have driven you to this point and for that, I apologize. However…” She raised her blade. “Right now, I’ve worthy Masters to defend who strive for worthier goals. For that reason, I cannot allow you your due, nor can I even afford to face you honorably as a knight would. And so, I will strike you down without fail. En garde, Lancelot!”

“AAAAAAAARRRRTHUUUUURRRRR!!!” Lancelot roared once more. The two knights charged, and profaned and pure clashed against each other in the rain-soaked streets of the ruined Lyon.

----------

Morgana hated feeling useless.

It hadn’t been the first time he felt that way. Back when his memories were missing, the gap between him and the other Phantom Thieves had slowly but surely been eroding away. His leadership and planning had been supplanted by Ren and eventually Makoto, easily utilizing his knowledge beyond even his own abilities. Then his navigational skills had been eclipsed handily by their genius hacker, Futaba. Ryuji didn’t help, his usual insults unknowingly becoming as sharp as daggers as they chipped away at his fragile confidence, leaving nothing left.

Finally, he exploded and left. He attempted to repeat what he had before when he encountered Haru, fashioning her into the ‘Beauty Thief’ as they tried to confront her father’s palace by themselves. It was partly his way of getting back at the other Thieves, as petty as it was, and partly his way of trying to prove to himself and everyone else that he still had worth. Memories or no, that he was still strong and capable and intelligent.

But he failed. He failed to infiltrate the palace and failed to protect Haru. He got himself hurt in the process. For Morgana, he thought that would be the end. He explained Haru’s situation to everyone else to the best of his ability, then he would leave before he became a liability. There was no need to drag everyone with him into his own goals – they had surpassed him long ago, after all. But Haru coaxed him, and he revealed his desires: That he wanted to stay with everyone to the very end.

And to his utter surprise and delight, they immediately accepted. Nobody wanted him to go, and it was apparent that despite everything, they missed him dearly. Ren and Futaba especially – deeply ironic considering they both outpaced him in so many different regards. To that end, he vowed that he would commit his all for their sake. Ren’s enemies were his enemies. Morgana was their comrade, and he would stand with them to the very end.

But vow or not, some things simply couldn’t be surpassed by sheer willpower alone. Despite his boast and challenge to D’Eon, he could feel that instinctual chill down his spine like when he fought the blackened Rider back in Fuyuki: D’Eon was far, far beyond his ability to deal with. And worse, he didn’t have backup. Saber, as powerful as she was, had her hands full with the black knight Servant, meaning he had to deal with the French spy and duelist alone. And as knowledgeable as he was, even he was drawing a blank on D’Eon.

Giving him no more time to think, D’Eon stepped forward, their rapier flashing in their hand. Morgana had a very, very slight advantage that he was considerably shorter than most foes D’Eon ever had to face against, but that was swiftly negated by all their other advantages: Speed, skill, strength, and instinct. D’Eon may have been ‘just’ a spy, but they were a Servant and knew combat well. Morgana was put on the backfoot as he did everything he could to deflect D’Eon’s swift strikes, but for all his agility and experience, that didn’t save him entirely: Several strikes moved past his cutlass and cut him, leaving ribbons of blood that stained his pristine fur.

Morgana scowled as he retreated to buy himself time, only for D’Eon to pursue easily. He had been becoming increasingly aware of how unviable his Metaverse form was for actual fighting: His head was much larger than his body overall, and with how low he was to the ground, it was basically a gigantic ‘hit me’ balloon for anyone with even a modicum of battle sense. He had been training with Archer to try and reduce that weakness of his, but a few days’ of training wasn’t nearly enough to fend off experienced warriors. If only he had his increased agility and strength from being in the Metaverse, but unfortunately, he had no such mercy.

Dodging to the side to avoid a thrust from taking out his eye – leaving behind yet another weeping cut to the side of his head – he raised his cutlass as he focused on D’Eon once more through the pain. The elegantly dressed Saber didn’t seem particularly into the fight, he noted. But it wasn’t like they were toying with Morgana either – it rather felt like dealing with the Phantom Thief was a frankly annoying chore that they would rather not bother with if they could help it. In short, they were holding back.

Ignoring the blow to his pride, he had to wonder why. From what little he saw of the doppelganger’s Servants, it seemed that they followed her orders out of obligation rather than any sense of loyalty. Martha had directly disobeyed her orders despite her hostility and the Lancer and Assassin from before seemed more interested in their own agendas than following her orders. However, that didn’t matter too much right now – D’Eon didn’t give him any openings to exploit, and while their martial prowess was well below Saber’s, it was still far beyond what Morgana could deal with. The best he could do was buy time and occupy D’Eon so they couldn’t assist the black knight.

At least, that was the plan until he was unceremoniously grabbed in the head by said Saber as she ran. Any complaints Morgana had died down as the roar of a gatling gun issued out, the resulting bullets turning the cobblestone he was just standing on into nothing but dust and rubble. His peripheral vision caught D’Eon retreating as well, bleeding from the leg as multiple bullets had sunk in. Despite everything, Morgana had to give a small smirk of satisfaction. It seemed that at the very least, his opponent was in no condition to pursue them – though it still stung him that he couldn’t do a thing against the Servant.

Once they had a moment to recover, Morgana summoned Zorro to heal himself. The wounds had thankfully sealed up, allowing him some blessed relief and removed the danger of infection or bleeding out, but it only added further to his fatigue. Then afterward, he used another Garudyne to distract the black knight, nullifying his ambush as Saber proceeded to engage him and knocked him away. He rested against the wall, only partially listening in to Saber’s words as the rain steamed against his overheating body.

As the Saber and the black knight – Lancelot apparently – clashed, he kept careful watch of the whole situation. Lancelot kept screaming madly, his wild blows forcing Saber to give ground with each and every one, but each move of his wasn’t that of a madman despite everything. No, Morgana could see that his blade was still wielded with the precision one would expect from a master swordsman. Saber was no slouch herself, her holy blade meeting his profaned one each time, but she was gritting her teeth at the effort needed to keep up with her compatriot.

Morgana frowned. He knew they didn’t have long – wyverns would be on them before too long and the enemy would have a chance to regroup. He considered a retreat but immediately discarded the thought. Judging from his madness, Lancelot wouldn’t let them retreat easily. And with his combat prowess, he could easily inflict a lot of damage to their group by himself – neither he nor Ren would be able to resist him even for a millisecond, Jeanne, Marie, and Mozart simply weren’t strong enough, and while Archer might put up a better showing, he wouldn’t be better than Saber.

No, he needed to be dealt with here and now.

Scowling, he slowly stood up, his limbs aching and heavy. His wounds were gone but he could still feel the phantom pain. He hadn’t pushed himself nearly this hard back during their Metaverse escapades, but frankly it didn’t matter now – if they didn’t pull through here, they’d never see anyone again. And he saw Ren’s pain from everyone being ripped away from him. No, he had committed his loyalty to Ren. No matter what he suffered through or how much he needed to do this, he would see things through.

Calling Zorro to him once more, he felt his circuits fire up again. This move was one that he learned with Ren back at that jazz bar, so long ago – and it paid dividends then. It would do so here. He pointed to Saber. Three lights – orange, green, and purple – flashed around her for a brief second before fading away – Heat Riser. The resulting energy drain nearly caused Morgana to collapse once more, using his cutlass like a crutch to avoid falling flat on his face. Gritting his teeth, he looked up at their Servant. “Go get ‘em, Saber!” he called out.

Saber blinked as the lights had surrounded her. Suddenly, she felt stronger and lighter on her feet. Her armor seemed to have a faint glow around it too. By her estimation, her stats must have shot up at least a full rank. She smirked at the encouragement as she raised Excalibur once more. Her Masters were certainly rather versatile, weren’t they? She didn’t know how long this power boost would last but she would have to repay them in kind before it faded away.

“AAAAAAARRRRTHUUUUURRRR!!!!” Lancelot howled once more. Undeterred by the lights, he charged Saber once more, raising Arondight. Saber took a quiet breath, lowering her sword and pointing the blade behind her. Another hurricane gust of wind blasted forth, rocketing her towards her insubordinate knight as Morgana covered his face from the splashing water.

Lancelot gave a startled squawk at the sudden speed and ferocity of Saber’s attack as she raised her blade and slashed. The peerless blade sliced through his breastplate, spilling blood. Braking with her blade, Saber whirled about and charged again. The Berserker tried to counterattack, but his timing was off just enough that Saber got under his guard and sliced off his hand, Arondight clattering to the ground. Another cut across his torso was all that was needed to finish it.

Saber panted slightly as she looked at the black knight, collapsing on his knees and bleeding profusely. “I did not wish it had ended this way, Lancelot,” she murmured. “I never did. Whatever madness possessed you in life… I apologize for it. For now, you have done your duty. Please, go and rest. May you find whatever rest you are worthy of.”

The knight growled, golden dust beginning to fall off his figure. With slow, heavy movements, he reached up and took off his helmet, dropping it as his strength failed him. His long, matted, purple hair clung to his face, its normally handsome visage twisted and warped in madness. However, tears streamed from his eyes, which only reflected sadness and grief.

“M-my king,” he gasped out in a strangled voice. “F-forgive… me….” With that, he dissolved into golden light. And soon, it was just Saber and Morgana, with nothing more than the ruins and the rain to keep them company.

A sudden roar roused their attention. Whatever thoughts the two had were shoved aside. “Come on, Saber,” Morgana called out. “We need to head back to the gate – we’ll figure out the situation from there!” Saber nodded, once more taking the weakened Morgana in her arms as she began running towards their rendezvous point.

Then their eyes widened and were almost blinded as a gigantic sphere of light appeared in the middle of the town. Morgana recognized the feel of it immediately:

A Palace.

----------

Archer scowled as moved from alley to alley, trying to avoid the dragon – easier said than done as it rampaged through the mostly desiccated buildings, each swipe of its claws, sweep of its tail, or even flap of its wings razing them to the ground. Maintaining his distance, he kept up a slow but steady stream of exploding sword arrows that didn’t do anything much besides annoy the dragon. It was his job, of course, but that didn’t mean it didn’t suck. He didn’t even have the luxury of backup either – everyone was too busy with their own battles and duties.

Honestly, he wasn’t surprised that the Jeanne d’Arc doppelganger had dispatched such a large force to take care of them. After that little show of Ren bringing out Satan with his magecraft coupled with the fact that Martha had been handily dealt with by them, it probably brought them up several notches on her threat meter. They had turned from a ‘nuisance’ to ‘immediate threat’, and she was using whatever resources she had to squash them out for good. Good on her for at least immediately recognizing that they were a problem that needed to be dealt with directly.

Still, judging from the fact that the doppelganger was still screaming and futilely ordering her dragon to turn around, she still had a lot of notable flaws to exploit: First, she was extremely short-tempered in contrast to the actual saint, blindly rushing like a bull and trying to bulldoze all her problems with her rage. Second, none of her subordinates seemed all too loyal to her, from what little he saw of her Servants and how the dragon completely disregarded her orders. And third, the bulk of her forces comprised of wyverns, which were beasts, meaning her strategies boiled down to ‘throw them at whatever’s causing a fuss’. Sure, she didn’t need much more for medieval France, which couldn’t mount an effective resistance against wyverns or Servants, but against stronger foes, she would struggle considerably.

He moved off to the side, misdirecting the dragon as it wrecked the building he would’ve ran to had he continued straight ahead. Maneuvering to its flank and behind, he hopped up onto a roof. He only had a few seconds before the dragon would notice him, but that would be enough. Most of what was going on was concealed by various buildings and rubble, but he could see many of the wyverns stirring and getting up, roaring in rage and panic. The doppelganger couldn’t issue orders but she didn’t need to – in such close proximity, once they took flight, they could easily start tracking everyone else down.

The red-mantled hero smirked. This might be an opportunity to take care of a large number of their problems in one fell swoop.

“I am the bone of my sword.”

He quickly jumped to another rooftop just as the dragon’s tail smashed down, disintegrating the building he had just been on as it caught wind of his location once more. Nocking another arrow to his bow, he fired it – not at the dragon, but at the cluster of wyverns. The arrow split into multiple as they thudded against the hides and wings of the wyverns. Not enough to harm then, but enough to annoy and irritate the hell out of them. And more importantly, in a clear direction that they knew precisely who had shot them to begin with.

“Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.”

The wyverns shrieked and roared. Quickly gaining purchase on the ground, they began taking wing, flying towards Archer in every attempt to shred him to pieces. So far so good.

“I have created over a thousand blades.”

The doppelganger looked over at the wyverns, then back at Archer. Her face twisted into mocking amusement. “Well, I didn’t think you were quite so eager to die, Archer!” she called out from her seat on the dragon’s back as the mentioned Servant dodged a fast lunge from the dragon before blasting him in the face with yet another arrow. “The other Servants will take care of your friends, but I guess you’ll have the honor of going first!”

“Unknown to death, nor known to life.”

“Well, what can I say, when you’ve lived as long as I have, you need more stimulation in life,” Archer drawled like he wasn’t being hounded by a gigantic, winged creature of death as well as countless flying lizards who were doing their best to claw him to death. He winced a bit as a claw nicked his cheek but otherwise ignored it. “Courting death is for fools, especially battle-hungry ones, but then, it seems you’re all too used to that, aren’t you?”

The doppelganger narrowed her eyes. “What was that?!” she snarled

“Have withstood pain to create many weapons.”

Archer shot yet another swarm of arrows at the wyverns that he hadn’t gained the attention of yet, making sure to garner their enmity in turn. “You go around, killing this way and that, lashing out like a petulant child,” he noted. “Perhaps it never occurred to you that someone might get pissed off enough to challenge you in turn, and kill you just as you’ve been killed? You’ve no small amount of blood soaked on your hands, doppelganger.”

The darkened Servant gaped, then threw her head back howling in laughter. “O-oh my god, you’re serious,” she gasped out between bursts. “You’re actually serious!” She looked at Archer with a sadistic glare as more and more wyverns bore down on him. “I don’t give a damn what you think I am – I’m exacting my damn vengeance. No more, and definitely no less. They’re all fucking weaklings who only want and need – and discard you when you’re more useful dead. Among these weaklings, who the hell would get pissed off and strong enough to go against me, huh?”

“And yet, those hands will never hold anything.”

He chuckled in turn. “Oh, I never said anything about the people here,” he casually added. The situation was getting extremely dicey for him now. He was completely surrounded by countless scores of wyverns, the dragon still had its sights on him, and the doppelganger had her full attention on him in turn thanks to his taunting.

Perfect.

“They may be weaklings who fall at the first sign of weakness, but whenever someone like you lashes out, there will always be someone to bring you down in turn.” His smile turned into a wry, knowing grin. “A hero of justice, perhaps.”

“So as I pray,”

The doppelganger’s eyes widened as he finished his aria, but it was too late.

“Unlimited Blade Works!”

A ring of fire burst out from Archer, quickly engulfing all the wyverns, the dragon, and the doppelganger as they were all blinded by a burst of light. Before long, the light diminished – and the doppelganger gaped at what she saw.

They were no longer in the town of Lyon. Before them was a barren plain, as far as they could see. The sky was dark and hazy, with impossibly large gears turning in an unfathomable distance. But that wasn’t all – all around her were countless swords embedded in the ground. And these weren’t just normal swords. Even a quick glance told her that each blade here belonged to some hero or another. A cold sweat broke out on her back as she quickly figured things out.

This was that damned Archer’s Noble Phantasm: A reality marble. His own inner world and existence brought out into reality – and he had dragged all of them into it.

The wyverns squawked and roared in confusion as they looked about their new surroundings. Even the massive dragon looked uncertain. Then it snarled as it locked eyes on Archer. He was standing on a small hill with that damned smirk still on his face. He held in his hand a sword. The dragon’s eyes widened as it quickly recognized the blade. It wasn’t as powerful but there was no way it could ignore the blade’s presence, not when it was the bane of his own existence.

Archer held in his hands a copy of Balmung.

Calling forth his bow once more, he notched the sword once more, lengthening it until it turned into an arrow. Above him, more copies of Balmung as well as other dragonslaying swords like Gram. The wyverns and even the dragon shrunk away, the former shrieking with instinctual fear. Though unintelligent, they knew that the swords pointed in their direction were nothing less than tools to end their existences. The doppelganger scowled. They were playing by this bastard’s rules now – and he held all the cards.

The red-mantled hero loosed the arrow, and Balmung immediately tore a hole through one of the wyverns. It collapsed on the spot, dead as a doornail. The doppelganger’s eyes only widened at the sight, then looked back up in trepidation. The wyverns began shrieking louder in panic as the dragon roared.

As the rain of swords began descending on Archer’s serpentine foes, the dragon reared its head, its jaws alighting in infernal might, then it breathed out pure destruction.

Thus, the might of a dragon met the countless blades of Archer’s realm.

Chapter Text

Carmilla grit her teeth as she moved about in her spiritual form. It was a capability that all Servants had in order to render themselves invisible to the regular human eye. The form also was less energy intensive as well, draining only a fraction of their Master’s prana in exchange. The catch, of course, was that they couldn’t interact properly with the normal world as a result. They would simply phase through things, much like actual ghosts. And not to mention, while most people wouldn’t be able to see them, Servants would be able to detect them anyway. How easily would depend on the Servants’ capabilities… and the capabilities of the Servant in their astral form.

And for someone in an Assassin class, her Presence Concealment skill would allow her to slip past most Servants’ scrutiny without too much of an issue.

She had come along with the doppelganger and her entire force, intent on completely wiping them off the face of the planet. As they had approached Lyon, the doppelganger had ordered her to go into her astral form, sneak up on the Masters – the boy and the catlike creature – and eliminate them. She scowled at those orders. Despite being an Assassin, sneaking about was not what she did. She was a noblewoman! She was supposed to walk forward, and all would capitulate and prostrate before her feet for her pleasure – or she would force them to. But the Madness Enhancement granted by the doppelganger forced her to act, and so she would.

The plan was simple. The doppelganger would lead a saturation attack, using the huge number of wyverns as well as the dragon – the legendary Fafnir – to raze Lyon to the ground as well as separate their enemy. The other Servants would pinpoint each one and eliminate them in a blitz, swarming and taking them down one after another. Divide and conquer was a time-honored strategy for a reason, and this approach would satiate the doppelganger’s rage. Their approach would be covered by the newly summoned Archer in their ranks – the legendary huntress Atalante.

Seeing the nubile young Servant, a dark smirk had spread across her features. Perhaps after this was done, she could partake in her blood as well. Her’s and the Saint’s. She missed the opportunity with Martha, but another saint would do. With all the young female Servants here, their potent blood would serve to grant her their health, beauty, and youthfulness for a very long time.

The approach had been going well. Their Archer indeed countered the red-coated Servant’s arrows, and it seemed none of the other Servants had any ranged capabilities. Then all of them felt a flash of divine power. For the first time in a long time, she felt that chill down her spine that came from facing judgement for her sins. That constant fear when she whiled away her last days in her castle, terrified for her life and her beauty. And the final moments that came, knowing that the Devil had come to take her at last.

They all looked over at the unignorable power. There was the Saint, flying her flag, and beside her was the young girl with the shield – another girl she coveted – and finally the boy. But standing behind them was a figure: A metallic angel, radiating all that holy energy. It felt as though the gaze of God himself was upon her, and she barely held herself back from breaking down at the sight, focusing on the Master instead. The boy’s smirk was clear. He had summoned the angel, unveiling its power to all of them. It was a very deliberate taunt: That God was on their side, and more importantly, the side of the Saint.

As the doppelganger shrieked in rage and started directing the entire force to obliterate them first, a sudden hurricane accosted them. Screaming, she held onto the wyvern for dear life as they were buffeted by the wind. Then explosions rocked around her, one even going off right beside her, blasting off her wyvern’s wing and sending her tumbling to the ground. Within moments, the force practically dissolved into a mess of shrieking wyverns barely fluttering about while others tried to stand before being buried under their peers. The Servants were all scattered as well and followed their own initiatives, the doppelganger unable to countermand them as Fafnir was lured away.

Carmilla cursed as she moved through the ruined streets. Her spiritual form kept the rain off of her, but being forced to move about like a pauper exposed to the elements grated against the very core of her existence. She was beyond enraged at this point. She would find that Master, the cat thing, and that red-coated Archer, and she would take her time relishing in their pain. She would break their bodies, their minds, their spirits, and even when their voices were spent screaming from agony, despair, and anguish, she would not let them go. No, they would be her playthings.

She would also find the other women – the Saint, the shield girl, the Queen, and even their own Archer, and string them up. A thousand slices would suffice to bleed them over a bathtub, where she would enjoy the most decadent of showers and baths. The blood of such beautiful female Servants, giving their beauty and vitality to her, the countess who was the only one worthy of it all. It would all be a fitting recompense and reward for this sheer indignity of being made to move about like a rat. And if that doppelganger withheld even one iota from her, then Carmilla would happily string her up and bleed her out too. A false saint she may be, tainted by anger and hatred, but her beauty matched the Saint’s just the same.

Hearing the sound of conflict nearby, she peered past an alley. The Berserker the doppelganger summoned was fighting against another Servant – a young, blonde woman wielding a glowing sword. Her eyes widened. It was a sword that even the most ignorant Servant would be aware of: Excalibur. She glanced back at the Saber. Undoubtedly a woman. Petite but a beautiful young woman, nevertheless. Perhaps it was Arthur’s wife, Guinivere…? But that was impossible. Never in any of her legends did she wield a sword, let alone bear the skill that could rival that Berserker.

Gulping, her breath caught as she saw one of the Masters: The catlike being. He was keeping a close eye on the fight. His guard was down from exhaustion and focus. Carmilla took a step forward… then stopped. No, too risky, she rationalized. The Saber there was far more than she could handle in open combat. She was a Countess, not a warrior – even she knew she was a far match from that Saber, especially if her worst fears were true. Not to mention, that Berserker was extremely unstable. Technically they were allies, but it wouldn’t surprise Carmilla if he decided to kill her simply because she was in the way. No, going for the cat Master would only mean her death.

Still, Carmilla stole another glance at the Saber. She was a fine specimen. There were certainly no shortage of beautiful female Servants here, were there? She added Saber to her ever-growing mental list of Servants to gather for her own use before moving away. Her Presence Concealment may be only rank D, but in the chaos of combat combined with the rain, she was more or less invisible to everyone there. Only if they deliberately were looking for her would they find her – and all of them were far too busy to do so.

Moving away from the duel between knights, she tracked down other presences within the town. Doubling back past the still struggling pack of wyverns, she moved to the other side. Soon, the sound of combat became more prominent. Looking around the corner, her eyes widened as she sought her quarry. And with no small number of bonuses too.

The shield girl, the Saint, and their own Archer were all fighting one another, moving in tandem. Fighting alongside them was the boy Master, utilizing a gun and taking surprisingly accurate shots at the Servant. It wasn’t doing much except annoying her, but even a moment’s distraction provided yet another opening for the two more defensive Servants to close the gap, denying her the range that was an Archer class’s greatest strength.

Carmilla had to admit, she didn’t expect such a juicy prize to fall right into her lap. The boy Master was here and distracted, fighting off another Servant. Three of the female Servants she wanted to collect were right here. All of them were occupied with each other. It would be child’s play to ambush them, kill the Master, trap the other two in a pincer attack in conjunction with the Archer, and perhaps even bag the Archer while she was worn down from the fight. With those three taken out, the rest should quickly capitulate, both from numbers and the fact that a Master was gone. A smirk crossed her lips. Oh, this situation was utterly ideal, wasn’t it?

However, as she began to move in, the boy Master stopped. Carmilla felt a faint flash of panic across her back before ignoring it. No, impossible. No human, no mage, could have the instinct to detect her in the heat of combat. And even if they did, they wouldn’t have the ability to detect her in time anyway. This was a clear victory for her. And only her.

Then the boy whirled about, his eyes flashing a glowing red. An armored angel appeared behind him, glaring directly at her.

And then everything around her exploded in a flash of light.

----------

Mash and Jeanne charged the blue Archer, who snarled at them before raising her bow.  Firing off two arrows (both of which were blocked by Mash taking the lead and raising her shield), she nimbly dodged as both Servants were on her. Going low, she swept out the legs of Jeanne, causing her to collapse on the ground before turning with inhuman speed and aiming a point-blank arrow at Mash’s head. The shielder’s eyes widened. She raised her shield but wouldn’t be able to intercept in time –

There was a gunshot and her arm jerked slightly to the side by a small explosion, causing the arrow to miss – albeit, barely, scratching Mash’s cheek. The blue Archer snarled at the source: Ren, holding up the pistol with a smirk. Whatever retaliation the Archer had in mind was quickly interrupted by Mash smashing her shield into her chest, knocking her back multiple feet, before being forced to dodge Jeanne’s flagpole as it thrust toward her gut.

Despite the madness of the fight, despite it being much bigger than many of the Metaverse battles he had, this was ultimately his element. Ren, no, Joker was adept at navigating through chaos and coming out on top. And what was such a battlefield anything more than just a big ball of it? He was calm as he weighed and analyzed his options and the enemy’s attack patterns. He might not have Futaba or Makoto here with him, but he learned a thing or two just observing the two of them work.

The blue Archer’s greatest asset would be distance. Unlike their own Archer, she was heavily disadvantaged by close-range combat. To compensate for that, however, she had remarkable speed and agility. Even with both Jeanne and Mash bearing down on her, she dodged their attacks with grace and ease, swiftly countering with either swift kicks or point-blank arrow shots. She was a master Archer, without a doubt.

But then, that was where he came in.

He raised his pistol once more. It was difficult to take a shot here, with the three Servants constantly weaving between each other, their positions switching rapidly. Even a master marksman would have a hard time of pulling off a good shot without missing – or worse, hitting his own allies. If he had his Metaverse abilities, he’d be able to take the shot without much difficulty, but no chance here. He needed another advantage.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed his vision to focus. Everything around him dimmed – or rather, everything that was irrelevant to the situation at hand dimmed. In contrast, the Servants glowed brightly to his eyes. Not only that, but their movements were easier to follow and track. The Archer’s speed was still prodigious, but at least it was at the level he could track and predict her movements now. At the very least, it was only a touch harder than the top difficulties of Gun About.

“Don’t just track and aim or you’re always going to be a split second too slow. Once you figure out their movements, aim where they’re going to be. Once you do that, you fill ‘em with lead!”

Ren had to smile. He wondered what Shinya would say if he knew he was about to shoot down figures from myth and legend. The boy would be over the moon, if he ever believed him. And he also knew that if he missed these shots, he would never hear the end of it. Shinya might’ve been his junior by a good five or six years, but his harsh teachings was easily comparable to that of a drill sergeant’s. He might’ve mellowed out ever since the Thieves took his mother’s heart but he was still unforgiving regardless.

Aiming carefully, he pulled the trigger – and was rewarded with the bullets landing right on the Archer’s leg. He only used the regular bullets this time as opposed to the special ones that Da Vinci provided. Ren still needed the element of surprise. Despite them not being broken by prana, they were still fast-moving metallic projectiles. While normally bullets were absolutely no threat to Servants, that didn’t count quite as much if they were heavily distracted fighting two others at once.

The Archer’s eyes widened in shock as he landed the shot, preparing for the pain, only to find there wasn’t. Confusion caused her to hesitate for a split second - for Jeanne to close the distance. She clumsily deflected the Saint’s flag with her bow before Mash’s shield slammed into her gut from the side, sending her flying yet again, crashing into a wall. Ren smirked before clicking his pistol into utilizing the prana-broken bullets once more. He was quite ready for the next round.

Suddenly, he felt a prickle from the back of his neck. Instincts well-honed from his previous adventures that indicated very clearly one thing: Someone was nearby. He whirled about, still utilizing his Third Eye, and saw her. She was blurry, but nevertheless, he could see her outline. And the red aura that glowed about her… no doubt about it. An enemy Servant. He switched to another Persona in his mind and tore off his mask once more.

“Archangel!”

At his call, the armored angel burst forth in a flash of blue flames. Pointing with its sword, a beam of light blazed where the invisible Servant stood and was rewarded with a cry of pain as the Servant stumbled back. Now visible to all, Ren could see it was the Assassin Servant from earlier: The scantily clad woman who was obsessed with blood. Though she wore her own mask (uncomfortably reminiscent of a Phantom Thief’s mask), he could feel the sheer hatred and wrath burning through her gaze.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again!” he called out cordially, flashing a smirk in her direction. “I don’t have a problem with older woman, but crones like you really aren’t my type. Sorry about that.”

The Assassin’s entire body tensed, and Ren could swear her eyes were bulging out of their sockets beneath their mask. “You impertinent, arrogant, uncouth WORM,” she snarled. With a wave of her scepter, a fountain of blood gushed up, racing towards the small group, forcing them all to dodge. Only Ren’s finely honed instincts allowed him to dodge in time with the other Servants, though it was a close thing. He smiled grimly to himself. He really needed to learn to keep his trap shut at this rate.

Then there was an explosion – the Archer they had just beat down burst out of the rubble, looking worse for wear but all the more feral for it. With a wild shriek, she let loose a withering bombardment of arrows. Mash rapidly moved to block the arrows from striking Ren as Jeanne raced over to take cover with him as well. Unfortunately, pinned down as they were, that left Carmilla free to do as she pleased. Another scepter wave and an iron maiden appeared in front of her. It began rapidly sliding towards them, opening up to reveal rows and rows of spikes, seeking to engulf and skewer them.

Scowling, Ren rapidly switched out for another Persona in his mind.

“Jack Frost!”

A snowman-like being appeared. Only waist high, it wore a blue jester’s cap with a simple smile on its face. With a cry of “Hee ho!”, it pointed to the iron maiden. Ice burst out from underneath, helped by the wet tiles underneath, rooting it in place. The metal from the torture device groaned and screeched as it tried to move forward, the ice gradually cracking. However, it bought them a few seconds of time, which made all the difference.

With a cry, Mash charged forward with her shield up, undaunted by the hail of arrows. The Archer nimbly dodged aside again – and right into a puddle of ice. Ren had summoned Jack Frost once more and caused ice to grow around her feet, trapping her. Meanwhile, Jeanne, now freed up from the suppressive fire, moved between Ren and the iron maiden as it finally broke the ice and shot forward. With a scowl, she swung her flag with all her might, the staff colliding with the iron maiden and sending it careening to the side. Carmilla could only give a frustrated scream in response.

For the Archer, however, things had taken a turn for the worst. With her foot arrested by the ice, the momentum from the dodge caused her to trip up, sending her to her knees. Before she could recover, she received a savage blow from Mash to the head, knocking her straight into the ground. Dazed, the Archer could only scowl up at the shielder as she raised her shield once more and smashed her head in. All that remained of her in the end was golden dust that rapidly dissipated into the air.

“Servant eliminated, Master!” Mash called out.

Ren nodded. “Good work, Mash!” He turned back to the Assassin Servant, who while enraged could clearly see she was at a disadvantage Her ally was dead, dealt with by that shield girl. The three were weary from that fight, but that boy Master was still staring at her with his glowing red eyes. That boy. That damned boy! No matter what any of them did, he always seemed to pull out some new trick or tactic with that magecraft of his! A power that could harm, entrap, and fool Servants, and who knows what else?!

No. She wouldn’t fight a battle she had no chance of winning, not with so many uncertain variables. “You lucked out this time, boy,” she snarled at Ren. “But I will kill you and bleed you like a stuck pig next time. Your impertinence will be the death of you.”

“Yeah, heard that before,” he remarked as the Assassin faded away into spiritual form. He didn’t lower his guard until he saw her rapidly leave before finally relaxing, releasing his Third Eye. Both Mash and Jeanne looked at him owlishly.

“Um, senpai?” Mash began. “What, um, exactly were those eyes?” She pointed to her own eyes for emphasis.

The Master blinked in response. “What about my eyes?” he asked, confused.

Jeanne cleared her throat. “Your eyes were red and glowing,” she explained. “And you were able to track a Servant’s movements, even when they were in spiritual form. Those aren’t abilities a normal human would have.” She wanted to add that it only lent further credence he was some subject of the Devil or a demon himself, but she held her tongue. Saying such a thing would breed pointless hostilities which they couldn’t afford. And she knew that he fought on the side of good, regardless of what his abilities appeared to be.

Ren blinked several times, then he sighed. “They’re a special thing I got a while ago,” he explained. He kept it as vague as possible. There was no way in hell he was telling them about Igor and the Velvet Room.  “I’m just happy I can still use it. Anyway, it seems like we’re done here. We need to rendezvous back to the gate.”

Mash and Jeanne hesitated, then nodded. Whatever questions they had could wait. They still had a plan they needed to follow. At the very least, one Servant had been eliminated and the other driven off for now. As they started to move, Ren tripped and fell on his knees. He gritted his teeth as the pain shot through his legs. The adrenaline was passing and the exhaustion and heat from utilizing his circuits was catching up to him. It wasn’t as bad as when he used the Cu Chulainn persona, but it was taking its toll on him.

“Master!” He looked up to see Mash and Jeanne, their faces etched with concern.

He smiled wearily, staggering back up. “It’s fine – I just used my circuits a lot today,” he explained. “We don’t have time to rest.”

Jeanne frowned. “No, we certainly do not,” she murmured. Before any of them could react, Jeanne grabbed hold of Ren and put him in a princess carry. “Permit me my rudeness this once, Ren Amamiya,” she explained. “As you say, time is of the essence and you need to recover what energy you can. Please, consider this part of my penance for doubting you earlier.”

Both Mash and Ren gaped, albeit for entirely different reasons. Mash was shocked that Jeanne would be so… forward in that regard and inwardly seethed for reasons she wasn’t entirely certain why. She could only regret that she didn’t think of such a method sooner to help her Master – though she mentally filed it away in her mind for use later on.

Ren was more shocked at how easily he was picked up and held, and how helpless he felt. It brought up… deeply unpleasant memories. However, he shoved them all down. Instead, he once more donned his ever-confident smile. “Thanks, Jeanne,” he said gratefully. “Let’s get a move on.”

Before they took more than a couple steps, however, a burst of light appeared, blinding them. Ren could only squint as a giant ball of light took shape further down the town. His communicator watch pinged. Holding it up, the hologram of Roman appeared.

“Finally, I got through!” he cried. “It’s Archer! He dragged in the wyverns, the dragon, and the doppelganger into his Noble Phantasm! He has a Reality Marble!”

Mash and Jeanne faltered. “A Reality Marble?!” Jeanne exclaimed.

Ren looked in askance at the doctor, who quickly figured out what his question was. “Layman’s terms, a Reality Marble is a forbidden magecraft that manifests your inner reality into the world,” Roman quickly explained. “No one can get in or out without the mage’s permission! Bottom line, Archer’s stuck by himself in there, fighting an army of wyverns, the dragon, AND the doppelganger!”

Everyone’s eyes widened. They all knew of Archer’s capabilities, but there was no way in hell anyone could fight off such a force by themselves! Mash looked over at Ren. “Your orders, Master?” she asked.

The Master scowled – a rather hilarious image being carried in Jeanne’s arms if it wasn’t so serious. “Unchanged,” he stated. “We can’t get in there so we’ll have to believe in Archer for now. We’re headed to the gate. Let’s go!”

Both women nodded, and once more they made their way to the gate. They were on guard for any other Servants but as their footsteps splattered against puddles and wet cobblestone, they weren’t harangued by anyone else – zombies, wyverns, or Servants. Thus, they made their way back to the gates without any issue. To their surprise, they saw Saber and Morgana showing up at the same time.

The Phantom Thieves were prepared to be mocked by one another – Morgana being carried by Saber, Ren carried by Jeanne – but seeing each other’s predicament, they could only ruefully smile. Their respective Servants gently lowered them to the ground. Their legs were unsteady but at least were able to hold their weight. “You look like you’ve been through a wringer, Mona,” Ren remarked with an unsteady grin.

Morgana matched it, glancing wearily up at his friend. “Psh, it’s me we’re talking about – it was nothing,” he joked. “But as always, you always seem to slip up when I’m not around, Joker.”

Ren just chuckled. It almost felt like everything was the same as before. However, Morgana’s expression soon turned grave. “Hey Joker, you can feel it too, can’t you?” he asked, glancing at the glowing ball of light. The leader of the Phantom Thieves nodded as he looked over as well. After all, it was a feeling that they knew all too well. One didn’t forget the feeling of a Palace, after all. Why did Archer of all people have one?

Then he considered the various figures he studied back in social studies. Off the top of his head, he knew that some of the most infamous figures in Japan like Oda Nobunaga, Toytomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu, most likely would have Palaces, given their ambition and power. Was world history dependent on people who had distorted desires? He never thought about it until now, but the realization was like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head.

Morgana rubbed his head in frustration. “Damnit, a Palace right in front of us and we can’t even get in!” he growled in frustration. Ren had to agree. Aside from the fact that they didn’t have the Metaverse app, they didn’t know the name of Archer or his distortion.

Or did he…?

He remembered the dream of Archer. Of a field of countless swords embedded in his back. He saw much and felt much as well. Information that seemed to trickle into his mind and lay dormant until he was willing to call it to the forefront of thought. Focusing on that, the name of Archer sprang into his mind. “Shirou Emiya…” he quietly murmured.

“Candidate found.”

All five froze at the voice that issued from Ren’s pocket. Ren and Morgana slowly turned to each other, clear shock and horror on their faces. They knew that cool, female voice all too well. He shakily reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. Though it was now useless, he brought it with him anyway as a habit. It had been turned on by itself, and staring at the screen, he could see the red eye of the app staring back at him.

The Metaverse app.

Tapping the app, the search bar appeared. The name ‘Shirou Emiya’ had been filled out in the search bar. They just needed the distortion and the location.

“U-um, s-senpai?” Mash asked, nervously, looking over at the app. “Wh-what are you doing? Y-you know ph-phones don’t w-work here, r-right?” She was dumbfounded by what she saw. She had seen a bit of modern technology before, but it was clear that things were different. It was just the only thing she could say to the whole situation, no matter how dumb it sounded.

Jeanne meanwhile just glanced back and forth at everyone, especially Ren and Morgana, even more lost than before. This was beyond her ken. Saber kept impassive as well, keeping a watch out on their surroundings.

Ren took a deep breath. There was no time to explain. Not right now, anyway. This would be extremely difficult to explain to everyone. If he used the app here, then he would be giving away a great number of his secrets - especially to mages who would exploit this to no end if they knew what was going on. However, humanity and the world was at stake. Ren knew he couldn't afford to be picky at this point.

He dredged up more memories of his Servant from that dream. A barren plain filled with countless swords. A world of unlimited blades… Yes. That was the name. “Unlimited Blade Works.” The app beeped.

“Candidate found.”

They had the distortion. All they needed was the location. Morgana was silent, still trying to process what was going on and waiting with bated breath, as was the other three. Ren would’ve ignored them anyway.

He remembered Archer interrogating him in the kitchen on whether he was seeking to be a hero or not. The questions were pointed, like he was speaking from personal experience. Archer wanted to be a hero, didn’t he? He wanted to be one to save people, no matter where or when. Coupled with those dreams, it became clear to him where he saw the distortion. “The world.” The app beeped in confirmation.

“Keyword Accepted. Beginning Navigation.”

“S-Senpai?!” Mash cried out fearfully as the world began distorting around them. Jeanne and Saber could only look about in shock as well. Ren and Morgana didn’t say anything, only gritted their teeth as they felt the familiar dizzying sensation that came from entering the Metaverse. However, despite the dangers and everything else going on, both Ren and Morgana had to grin.

This was their home turf.

----------

Archer panted as he looked through one eye. The other eye was forced shut from bleeding a bit further up his head. His left arm and a good portion of his left side was heavily burned from dragon fire, to say nothing of the numerous injuries he accumulated. He was certain at least three of his ribs were also broken, making it painful to breathe. He was running out of prana. He didn’t know how much longer he could maintain Unlimited Blade Works.

Before him, the dragon – Fafnir – was covered from head to toe in countless slashes and holes. Each of them oozed blood, dripping out in great quantities. All around him were countless wyverns, all skewered or blasted by various dragonslaying swords. The doppelganger, while in better condition than her mount, wasn’t looking in top shape either, her armor dented and one slash on the side of her neck indicating just how close she came to death herself.

Despite her wounds and Fafnir’s condition, she let out a low chuckle. “Well, didn’t think some Archer could give me this much trouble,” she growled. “But you’ve gone as far as you can, haven’t you? You’re almost out of prana. I’ll admit, you fought pretty well, much better than most of the fucks around here. But it’s over for you. Fafnir, get rid of him.”

Fafnir once more reared up, flames gathering into its maw. Archer scowled. He already broke out Rho Aias to block the dragonfire once, and while it did block the flames, it cost him a great deal of prana to create. Not to mention, it broke two of the seven petals of the shield, the damage in turn being reflected onto him thanks to its special properties. He didn’t have nearly enough speed to dodge aside, nor would he be able to summon another Balmung to counter him.

As the dragon blasted its fire once more, Archer closed his eyes. Guess this was the end of the line for him.

“Lord Chaldeas!”

“Luminosité Eternelle!”

His eyes flashed open as he saw Mash and Jeanne move in front of him, the former’s shield glowing and forming the barrier in front while Jeanne held her banner aloft, golden rays of sunlight shining down on them as Heaven itself blessed the Saint and her allies. The flames flowed around them, scorching the dead land as the two women held firm against the might of a dragon. The smoke was noxious and almost blinding with the heat almost unbearable but regardless, neither of them yielded. Before long, the flames abated, leaving three weary but very much alive Servants.

The doppelganger. “What the – how the hell –“ she spluttered. However, she was soon interrupted by a blue blur diving in and slashing at Fafnir's damaged leg, causing it to roar in pain. The doppelganger looked and gaped as she saw the Saber Servant from earlier back away as Fafnir retaliated by lashing out with its bleeding claw. Unbeknownst to her, a grappling hook secured itself onto Fafnir’s wing behind her, allowing a dark figure to fly up, dagger in hand. A whistle of air was the doppelganger’s only warning as she turned in time to receive a slash from a knife across her torso, knocking her to the ground.

Scowling, she looked up. In front of her now was the catlike Master, grinning down at her with a cutlass in hand. But what truly caught her eye was the boy Master. He was now dressed in a black longcoat with a suit. On his face was a white mask, and his smirk expressed only boundless confidence as he pulled on his red gloves to tighten them around his fingers. His sharp grey eyes, flashing red momentarily, sent shivers down her spine. The feeling she got from them was far different than when she had encountered them outside the Reality Marble.

In front of her stood the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.

Chapter Text

The Alter had seen many things since she came back to exact vengeance. She had seen the Holy Grail provide Servants to enact her will, create wyverns to devastate her former country. She had watched her Gilles de Rais call forth monstrosities from his spellbook, filled with black magic. Under her purview, she had serial killers, executioners, spies, disgraced knights, even a saint, under her beck and call. They all reflected her anger, her hatred, and her flames, as they torched and slaughtered all they come across.

Yet the ones who stood in front of her defied her expectations at every turn. The boy Master in particular. He commanded a small corps of Servants that by all rights should’ve been overwhelmed and defeated, yet slowly and steadily have been making headway against her. The power of both demons and angels were at his command, constantly taunting her as their sheer presence consistently drew everyone’s attention, which he exploited mercilessly each time.

And now, here they were, emanating a power that she had not felt before, yet it sent chills down her spine. But no, that couldn’t be possible. These two were just regular mortals. There was no way in hell they could ever stand up to Servants. She may have been a bit worse for wear thanks to that damn Archer, but even running on fumes she could easily kill two mortals without any issue whatsoever. The flames of hatred burned within her chest as she stood up, eyes full of murder and bloodlust.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to get in here, nor do I know what’s with the wardrobe change,” she spat. “And I don’t care. You’ve got some goddamn nerve facing a Servant.” She drew her sword – La Pucelle – and pointed at the two. The Saber was busy with Fafnir and her weaker self as well as the shield girl were back with Archer. The only ones facing her were the Masters. “No one’s coming to save you. If you beg for mercy, I’ll at least make it quick – though like hell I’ll make it painless.”

The catlike being smirked. “Sorry, ya cheap knock-off. We’re not the type to beg for stuff. We steal!” Her eyes blazed at the insult but before she could retort, the being charged forward, wielding a cutlass. It was definitely far faster than just a regular mortal. She barely raised her sword just in time, expecting minimal impact. After all, no mortal could ever match even the weakest Servant in terms of strength…

That thought lasted for only a second before nearly getting her sword smacked out of her hand. Eyes widening in surprise, she jumped back to gain distance, narrowly dodging a follow-up slash. Skidding to a halt, she could only stare in shock at the catlike being, who gave a cocky grin. That strength and speed… no mortal being could move like that or hit that hard! Perhaps a Dead Apostle, but these two didn’t qualify in the slightest and they retained their intelligence.

Whatever they were, their abilities were a match for a Servant’s!

“Heh, you’re not as strong as I thought,” Morgana commented. He could feel the ever-familiar thrum of his Metaverse power here. He wouldn’t need to hold back for fear of destroying himself with his magic circuits. “Come forth, my other self!” he called out, glowing.

“Diego!”

With a flash of blue flame, Morgana’s Persona appeared once more. It resembled Zorro, but with a good number of key differences: As opposed to the black suit Zorro wore, Diego had on a button up shirt, adorned with a blue rose in the breast pocket, with jeans and loafers. The sleeves were rolled up showing tattoos on his blue skin, with the top buttons undone to reveal a muscular chest. A jacket was wrapped around his shoulders, flowing behind him like a cape. While still masked, Diego’s head was uncovered, leaving his long blue hair, tied in a ponytail, free. The Persona didn’t have Zorro’s ever-present grin, but nevertheless had a smooth smile that radiated confidence.

But the change in Personas wasn’t merely in appearances. The Alter could feel it. Whatever power this cat had before, it utterly paled in comparison to what she felt now.

Instead of attacking, however, Morgana turned to Archer while Joker darted forward at the doppelganger, knife in hand. Diego traced a pattern in the air, and suddenly Archer was lit up with a green light as a cool spring breeze blew around him. His injuries rapidly healed and closed themselves up, letting him stand easily once more. The normally snarky Servant could only look on in shock as Morgana grinned. “You’re welcome!” he called out cheekily before facing the doppelganger once more.

Meanwhile, the doppelganger gritted her teeth as she barely managed to block or parry each knife blow from the Master. If Morgana was fast, this Master was on another level entirely. His attacks and moves had a lot of unnecessary flash to them, but somehow they seemed to flow easily into one another. It didn’t matter what she did – if she tried to counterattack and pressure him, he would slip into her flanks and retaliate. If she tried to back off, his knife turned into a gun and fired with frightening accuracy. Despite her armor, the bullets pierced through and hit their marks in her leg and stomach, making each movement increasingly painful.

With a wild cry, she slashed at the Master, but again, he simply backflipped away and dodged it without an issue. What the hell was this guy? An Assassin class Servant in disguise or something? That damn smirk he had really grated on her nerves at this point. And those damn eyes. He wasn’t regarding her seriously or even as an opponent. They were sharp, calculating, and cunning despite everything. It wasn’t that he was taking her as a joke.

He saw her as nothing but prey.

Joker couldn’t help but feel beyond elated. He had almost forgotten how it felt to be a Phantom Thief, with everything that had been happening lately. His body felt lighter and stronger. The sensation of his long coat, his gloves, and especially his mask felt like old companions. Like this, he felt like he could take on the world – and he had, multiple times, and multiple gods too. With all that in mind, how could he not grin? Plus, he felt that ever-familiar power that came from being a Wild Card. He didn’t need to use his magic circuits here. He could truly cut loose. His hand went to his face. His mask burned off, revealing glowing yellow eyes and a borderline malevolent grin.

“Satan!”

The blue monstrosity once more appeared in a flash of flame. The doppelganger’s eyes widened as she beheld the creature again. She could feel its power, and there was no doubt: it was like staring into the condemning eyes of the Devil himself, about to cast her down into the deepest pits of Hell. For all her boasting and blaspheming, she couldn’t suppress the shivers down her spine. This wasn’t like before, where it only appeared quickly and was gone in a flash. No, this time she would be judged and cast down without mercy.

So distracted she was that she failed to notice the ice pillars that burst out of the ground. With a cry she leaped away but far too late – her arms were caught in the ice, as well as one of her legs. She was trapped. She could only look up fearfully at the Master – no, the decider of her fate. The Devil faded away, but the impression remained. And currently, she felt far more frightened of the utter monster still smirking at her.

“Sorry,” he called out sardonically. “Wish we had more time to play around, but I need to finish things off here.” His hand once more went to his face as he called forth a very particular persona this time.

“Cu Chulain!”

With a burst of blue flame came forth the armored warrior. The doppelganger’s mouth dropped. It didn’t have the presence of either that angel or the Devil, but this being’s presence felt far more intimately familiar. It also felt far more solid as well, unlike the more ethereal presences of the beings the Master had summoned earlier. And the feeling she had from the blood-red spear the warrior wielded only cemented it.

Angels, demons, and now this Master could create Servants?! What kind of abomination was he?!

Joker smirked, knowledge of his persona’s capabilities quickly filling his mind. While he could’ve finished things off with Satan, he wanted to pull out Cu Chulainn to test how taxing he was in the Metaverse. To his surprise and delight, he was only a bit harder to maintain than his other personas here. It was certainly far less tiring than when he tried to summon him in the real world while using his magic circuits. It seemed in the Metaverse, he was indeed far stronger than just a regular person. And there was one particular move he hadn’t seen for his persona before, though he instinctively knew what it did. Another test was in order.

The persona crouched low, its red spear radiating cursed energy, filling the air with power. On its normally stoic expression was a feral grin – one that anyone with a passing familiarity with the Servant would recognize. The doppelganger’s eyes widened as she struggled harder to break free from the ice. It cracked, giving her purchase, but not nearly fast enough. The power from that spear was unmistakable. It was a damned Noble Phantasm, and it was coming straight for her!

“GAE-!”

Before he could finish declaring the attack, there was a bright flash of light all around them. When it faded away, the barren land filled with swords was gone. They were back in the city of Lyon, with the rain pouring down on them once more. Ren blinked in surprise and looked at himself. His Phantom Thief attire had vanished as well. His body felt more normal: Heavier, stiffer. His capabilities were that of a normal human again. Then his eyes darted back up at the doppelganger.

The doppelganger, no longer trapped in ice, held a hand to her chest, heaving ragged breaths. Though the Noble Phantasm didn’t go off, she almost felt it: the cursed spear moving in a crooked red flash. It wouldn’t matter what she did – it striking her and gouging out her heart was merely a fact that the spear fulfilled. A split second more and that would’ve come to pass. She glared at the Master, her eyes filled with utter, murderous rage. “You goddamn abomination,” she spat out. Her prana began flaring up as she dredged what remained of her reserves. This brat would burn.

Suddenly, an arrow flew past Ren towards the doppelganger. She swatted it barely swatted it away – giving enough time for Jeanne and Mash to close the distance and put themselves between Ren and her. She glared at the red-mantled Archer who held his bow before turning her glare to the three in front of her. In the distance, she could hear sounds of destruction as Fafnir and the Saber continued to fight. She calculated her odds. Most of her Servants have been routed. The two in the castle most likely wouldn’t come to her aid. The Archer was out of prana but her weaker self and the shielder were ready to fight. The abomination of a Master looked unsteady on his feet but his grey eyes kept unerring focus. The catlike being Master was here too.

“Tch. This isn’t over,” she growled. “I’ll hunt down every last one of you. Especially you.” She pointed at Ren. Her threat delivered, she dissolved into golden particles as she vanished into spiritual form.

Before Jeanne or Mash could move to pursue her, Ren collapsed on his knee, Morgana also falling back on his rear. “Senpai!” Mash cried out, rushing over to his side. Jeanne in turn ran over to Morgana. “Are you hurt? What happened, senpai?” she asked concernedly, checking him over for wounds. In the distance, Fafnir roared before giving a mighty flap of its wings, lifting into the air and taking off. It was marked with wounds everywhere, some rather severe, and with the doppelganger leaving, it was cutting its losses.

Ren chuckled weakly. “It’s nothing, Mash,” he reassured her. “Just… kinda forgot how doing that takes a lot out of you.” The fatigue was deep in his bones and muscles. It was normal – entering and moving about in the Metaverse was taxing on one’s body. Every time his friends and him exited a Palace or Mementos, it felt like they had run a marathon. What he wouldn’t give for a massage from Rider right now. Taking a deep breath, he stood back up before looking back. “Archer, are you alright?”

Archer glanced over at him with an inscrutable expression and nodded. “I’m fine, thanks to you, Master,” he replied evenly. “Apologies for not keeping my Noble Phantasm up – unfortunately, I’ve run out of prana. Fighting off wyverns, a Jeanne d’Arc doppelganger, and the legendary dragon Fafnir is a challenging task even for a legendary Servant let alone a mediocre one such as me.” It was an automatic response. His mind was too busy figuring things out. Reality Marbles couldn’t be breached from the outside. They could be destroyed, perhaps, but no Servant here had an anti-world Noble Phantasm.

So how did they get in? He had watched both of his Masters fight with the acuity and capability of lower ranked Servants. And that magecraft – if he could even call it that at this point – became supremely more powerful, with Morgana restoring him to full health while Ren bore down on the doppelganger with Satan once again, then summoned the armored spearman who Archer could somehow easily mistake for Cu Chulainn despite looking nothing alike aside from the spear. And the burst of prana… whatever Ren had summoned, it could use a Noble Phantasm, and he could summon such a familiar so easily.

Just what in the hell were his Masters? And why were both him and Morgana giving him strange looks?

Before anyone could say anything more, Ren’s communicator beeped once more. Looking in surprise, Ren tapped it as a hologram of Roman sprang up. “There you are!” he exclaimed, eyes wide and hair frazzled in clear panic. “What the hell happened over there?! We lost your signal entirely for a bit and only regained it after Archer’s Noble Phantasm vanished! Did… did you go inside a reality marble?! That-that shouldn’t be possible! Ren, what the hell did you do? What’s going on?!”

Ren opened his mouth when a sudden explosion burst from the castle, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry, Roman, I’ll explain later,” he hurriedly answered. Before the doctor could say anything else, he shut off the communication. A story like that wasn’t something he could explain in such a short time period. That being said, their secret was out and Ren knew there would be a reckoning. He wondered just how much of his secrets he could keep in the end. But then, if they were all dead, then that wouldn’t matter as much, would it?

Morgana quickly got back up as Jeanne and Mash nodded. Whatever questions everyone had would be put aside for now. They had other allies that possibly needed backup. All of them raced to the castle. Saber burst from an alleyway to join them, also giving them a quick nod of affirmation as she ran alongside them. Ren would normally send the others ahead of him to back them up, but given the sheer hatred of the doppelganger at this point, it was better not to take any chances.

----------

Mash had both seen a lot and very little in her life. Her entire life had been defined by Chaldea. She was born raised, studied, and trained here. It was one of the most advanced centers on Earth, with breathtaking archives of knowledge that encompassed fields from history to biology to technology to economics. There was also no small amount of different forms of entertainment as well for the benefit of the staff, something Roman had went out of his way to show her even though it was strictly against protocol. In a sense, she had been lucky and had a wide breadth of knowledge to work with.

However, ever since the Grand Order began, everything she knew had been turned upside down. She knew well of magic and magecraft so Servants weren’t anything new to her – after all, she herself was a demi-Servant after countless designer babies failed to become one. Going to different points in time to save humanity was much greater but still within her scope of comprehension. She expected to protect and work with her Master, maybe even learn from them as they directed her and whatever Servants they fielded.

Ren and Morgana had changed everything.

Within the first Singularity, they pulled out unknown magecraft that could compete with Servants – already an impossibility. They both had battlefield experience, easily staying calm and giving directions no matter the situation. Ren himself did… SOMETHING that apparently saved their director, even if they couldn’t contact or have any sort of access to her. And of course, Ren’s eyes themselves could somehow track Servants even when hidden. She thought she had seen everything.

Until some odd app appeared on Ren’s phone and dragged all of them into Archer’s reality marble. And when they did, Ren ended up in a different outfit – a sharp style that she had only read about in her books before. Then she remembered the name of the familiar Ren called the most often – Arsene – and it clicked for her. A Phantom Thief.

Before she could ask any questions, her two Masters darted away with inhuman speed, Saber quickly following behind after a split second’s hesitation. The dragon’s flames quickly caught her attention. She raced over to Archer with Jeanne by her side, accessing her power and utilizing her Noble Phantasm once more. They blocked the flames, leaving her a lot more drained than she expected, but forgot all her exhaustion as she witnessed her two Masters fight and quickly corner the doppelganger.

Ren and Morgana weren’t demi-Servants. They were supposed to be regular people (well, Morgana was certainly not ‘regular’ but that didn’t matter), yet they could fight a Servant on even ground – and were even winning too. She shivered with abject fear when Satan was once again summoned and felt the presence of the Servant when the armored warrior appeared, almost like Lancer himself was in front of her. And it nearly used a Noble Phantasm of its own.

And now, she was running alongside them, keeping an eye out for any threats as they made their way towards the castle, where Marie and Mozart were. She tried to push aside all her questions, focusing on the task at hand, but it was difficult. Ren and Morgana had been pulling off impossibility after impossibility. The doppelganger had called Ren an abomination, and while Mash certainly didn’t agree with that title, even she was uncertain whether Ren was fully human or not. It had been constantly reinforced to her that people from the modern era couldn’t become Servants – or at least, not as easily. And even if they could, they would be far weaker than most others that had age and mystery granting them more power.

They raced through the broken hallways of the castle. Older ruins gave way to fresh debris and damage, marking the trail of the Servants’ battle. Mash grit her teeth and gripped her shield tighter, ready to move in a moment’s notice. Any questions she had right now weren’t relevant. Her Masters may be capable of many things, but they still relied on her to watch their backs. She would not break that trust.

Turning a corner, they expected a fight… and were greeted by a different sight. The area around them was blasted into nothing, exposing the area to the elements as rain fell in uninterrupted. Marie and Mozart were kneeling next to a man sitting against a wall, their faces etched with concern. The man was large and muscular, with a long mane of silver hair and green eyes. He was surprisingly lightly armored, with only pauldrons, bracers, and greaves. His entire front was exposed, revealing a glowing green tattoo etched on his chest. Though just from sight he cut a powerful figure, he was covered in countless wounds and injuries, blood seeping through his clothes.

Marie glanced up at the approaching footsteps, instinctively throwing an arm in front of the exhausted man before she saw who it was. A few surprised blinks gave way to her usual radiant smile once more. “Ah, bonjour!” she chirped out happily. “It is good to see you all hale and whole!” Her smile widened ash she clapped her hands together. “You all must be extraordinarily capable! Fighting off five Servants as well as a horde of wyverns and a legendary dragon! You must be heroes beyond measure in life!”

Saber shook her head. “Thank you for the praise, but the success is not all ours,” she explained. “I recognized one of them. Sir Lancelot of the Round Table. Had it not been for my Master’s… magecraft-“ the King of Knights glanced over at Morgana at that word. “I doubt I would’ve come out of our duel unscathed. Archer dealt with the bulk of the enemy forces, and our Masters provided key support. If people are to be thanked, it is them. But what of you? We saw the explosion from outside and were come to reinforce you.”

The Rider Servant’s mouth fell open a bit in surprise. Even when she was human she knew the tales of Arthurian legend. Sir Lancelot was considered a knight without peer in martial skill. The fact that Saber came out of that fight without any problems spoke both her powers and Morgana’s assistance. And their Archer had dealt with the bulk of enemy forces…? She has so many questions she had to ask, but instead settled for answering Saber’s.

“Oui, we did have to fight with two Servants – Charles Henri Sanson and the Phantom of the Opera,” she replied. “It was most troublesome until our brave knight came through and aided us. His Noble Phantasm managed to take care of the Phantom, though Sanson escaped.” The Servants frowned, to the confusion of Ren and Morgana. They knew of Sanson’s origins. It was remarkable that Marie was taking this so well all things considered. A coughing fit from the knight caught their attention.

“So you are the ones who fought off the Dragon Witch’s forces?” he rasped out, doing his best to smile – which came off as a grimace – as he attempted to stand, hand on the wall for support. Mozart immediately moved his arm over his shoulders to help lift the man up. “I thank you. My apologies I couldn’t offer my support. I’m currently not in the best condition right now.”

Morgana huffed. “Well, we’ll take care of that. Zorro!” His usual persona appeared once more and traced a pattern with his rapier, causing a green light to glow around the armored man as a fresh breeze blew through. The light faded and… nothing. The man was still gravely injured. Morgana scowled. “Seriously?!” he demanded, his tone frustrated. Why does his healing always fail at the worst times possible?!

The man chuckled weakly. “My apologies again,” he murmured. “But these wounds are unfortunately cursed. They won’t heal with simple healing magecraft or prana. They will need to be exorcised first with a Baptism Rite. I believe Saints should be able to do so.”

Everyone immediately looked at Jeanne, who frowned sadly and shook her head. “My summoning deprived me of too many of my abilities,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’m not powerful enough to perform a Baptism Rite.”

Morgana facepalmed. “Well, we’re back to square one then,” he groaned. “Anyway, let’s grab him and go. It’s not safe to stick around here. Er… sorry, I don’t think we caught your name.”

The wounded man smiled. “Ah, I neglected to introduce myself,” he commented. “I am Siegfried, Saber class Servant. Judging from the roars I heard outside, I take it Fafnir has appeared too. I truly am destined to slay him no matter where I appear, it seems.”

Ren recognized the name immediately – not just from his studies, but also because he knew the persona as well. Like Cu Chulainn before him, the Servant Siegfriend couldn’t have looked any more different than the persona one, but he had no doubt they were the same… well, not ‘person’ but ‘being’ would be more accurate. He kept his mouth closed for now, though. There were still many things that had to be done. Still, that settled it: Siegfried was the dragonslayer they were looking for.

“We’ll grab any explanations we need on the way,” Ren stated. “For now, Morgana’s right. People will be wondering what happened here. We should go before we have to deal with more issues.”

Right on cue, Archer, who had moved to the opening the explosion had caused and was keeping watch, spoke up. “I see a contingent of French soldiers coming this way from the west,” he observed. “Gilles de Rais is at the head.”

That settled it. Saber moved to take Siegfried’s other arm to help Mozart shoulder the weight. That done, they all made their way out of Lyon to the north, the rain covering their retreat. As they reached the forests north of the city, the rain gradually abated to a sprinkle. The soil beneath them sank and sloshed from the pooled water underneath, turning the dirt into mud as puddles swirled about.

Despite it still being day, Ren and Morgana were exhausted. They utilized their magecraft no small number of times with barely any respite and just existed the Metaverse, with all the exhaustion that came with it. Their limbs were heavy, their bodies were sore, and they could barely keep their eyelids open.

Mash had been the quickest to notice the Masters’ condition and pulled out the map of the area, quickly finding a cave that mercifully was only a short walk away. Both Ren and Morgana collapsed on the thankfully dry ground as Saber and Mozart deposited Siegfried a short distance away. That done, Saber took one glance at her Masters and immediately took over.

“Mash, come with me – we must find a leyline to secure communications and further supplies,” she commanded. “Archer, Jeanne, keep watch. Marie, Mozart, attend to Siegfried and the Masters as necessary. Our Masters are exhausted and we’re low on prana ourselves. I doubt we’ll be able to sally forth until tomorrow at earliest.” Everyone blinked at her but after only a moment, they all began moving about to attend to their duties. Nobody argued with a king with B ranked charisma, after all.

Ren watched through bleary eyes as everyone moved about. Morgana had already curled up to sleep off his exhaustion. Same with Siegfriend. Deciding there was nothing to be done, he closed his eyes as well and soon drifted off.

----------

“Welcome back, my Trickster.”

Ren smiled at Lavenza and nodded at Igor. “I’ve a lot of questions for you guys,” Ren commented with a lightness he didn’t feel in the slightest. “But I’m guessing you guys already know what I’m gonna ask anyway.”

Igor’s smile widened as he regarded Ren with his bloodshot eyes. “And you would be correct once more, my dear guest,” he said. “As we have stated, by coming into a Singularity, we have gained access to a limited Collective Unconsciousness. As the situation is still incredibly dire, I am granting you as much power as we can spare. Thus, allowing you to regain access to the Metaverse. Unlike before, you will not be able to share the app among your companions but given the nature of magi, this is, surprisingly, to our benefit.”

“However, the Metaverse will be far more dangerous than before,” Lavenza warned. “The Palaces of Servants will not be like anything you have ever encountered before. Many of their legends and powers have come from their distorted desires and would’ve grown vast beyond that of many. You have new allies now and the restoration of yourself as a Phantom Thief, but do not let your guard down. Overconfidence could easily cost you when you have far too much to lose.”

Ren nodded. That certainly made sense. He didn’t expect them to have Palaces on the scale of Kamoshida or Madarame. These were heroes and legends, after all. If they had distorted desires, they would be correspondingly far larger. He already had a sample: Archer’s Unlimited Blade Works. A vast, barren world filled with legendary swords. He couldn’t appreciate it at the moment, but he could still remember it clearly.

Was that truly how he saw the entire world? His desire was to help people. By itself it shouldn’t be a distorted desire or all of the Thieves would have Palaces in their own right. The scale was beyond staggering in scope. He wouldn’t even know how to begin operating in such a Palace if he had to.

And that brought another question: Would it be proper to deal with that Palace? What would destroying a Palace do to a Servant? He and his friends didn’t track down everyone who had a Palace for a reason. They wanted to give hope to everyone and give them a chance to stand up for themselves, not have everyone under their thumb. It was what Yaldabaoth tried to tempt him with all that time ago, and he refused utterly. They didn’t do what they did because they wanted to have control. They wanted to bring hope.

It was perhaps a naïve, idealistic viewpoint they all held, but one they held regardless. After all, if they couldn’t trust people to find their own way, then what was the point of rebelling against an oppressive society just to become the oppressors in turn?

“Now then, I believe there was something you wanted to try, my Trickster?” Lavenza asked. Ren blinked in surprise and met Lavenza’s smile with a rueful one of his own. “I believe the persona you want is in the Compendium right now.” She opened the transparent pages of the still-damaged Compendium to the one Ren had been thinking of. With a nod from Ren, she summoned the Persona, the being turning into another one of his masks. “I do not know how your experiment will fare, my Trickster, but I trust you as I always do,” she said. She gave a reassuring smile.

“May luck be on your side.”

----------

Ren’s eyes snapped awake. His body felt much more energized than before. A small campfire had been set up, though only a few faint embers remained. Beside it was Mash, her breathing gentle as she quietly slept. Morgana was still curled up, peacefully asleep. It was completely dark outside, with the clouds obscuring the moon. Siegfried was also asleep off in a corner of the cave.

Besides him, the other Servants were awake. Archer and Jeanne were sitting at the cave entrance, keeping watch. Marie and Mozart were near Siegfried, having a whispered conversation. He saw no sign of Saber but wasn’t too worried – he knew she could handle herself.

He quietly stood up, drawing the attention of the servants. “It’s a few more hours before dawn, Master,” Archer commented. “I suggest getting a bit more sleep.”

Ren nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I will. I just want to try something. Siegfried said only a Saint could cure his wounds, right?”

Jeanne nodded. “That’s correct,” she replied. “We took a look over his wounds and I even tried myself, but whatever was done is beyond my ability to remove. It seems your Doctor Roman may have located another Saint as well, so we’ll most likely head out to meet with them tomorrow. God willing, we should be able to make it there without further issues.”

Tomorrow. Time certainly felt different to Ren. Everything that had happened recently had been less than a week. A week ago, he was back in Japan, chatting with his friends online while trying to rebuild his life. Now here he was in Medieval France, surrounded by and fighting with beings straight from myth and legend, far beyond his own personas. Just this week alone made his adventures in the Metaverse feel like a gentle stroll.

He walked over to the sleeping Servant. Siegfried had a cover placed under him, which was getting soaked in his blood. This would be extremely demanding of him but if it worked, then it would certainly help relieve the burden considerably. If the doppelganger saw that they were traveling far more slowly because they were carrying a heavily wounded infamous dragonslayer with them, he had no doubt she would leverage that advantage to no end. Calling forth the persona, he felt his magic circuits warm up as he tore off his metaphorical mask.

“Maria.”

A flash of blue flame heralded the new Persona, drawing everyone’s attention with muted exclamations. It was a statue of a pious nun, head bowed in humility with her hands open symbolizing her generosity. Above her head was a disc of gold, representing a halo, while framed around her figure was a ring of the same material, representing her divine aura. All around her were carved reliefs of various beasts: An eagle, a lion, a bull, even a T-Rex. Around her floated more golden discs as well.

Ren took a deep breath. With a mental command, the statue-like Persona glowed. A powerful green light began emitting from Siegfried as a cool spring breeze once more blew through. Illusory grass and flowers began blooming under him.

The Master gritted his teeth. Calling forth Maria in the real world was already a burden but utilizing her was even harder. And he was using a move that even in the Metaverse, Ren had considered too costly to use too often: Salvation. It could heal fully and cure from most ailments – like in this case, curses - but it took a great amount of power to use. Maria’s trait allowed it to be far less taxing but even now, he could feel the circuits burning through his body.

And at first, it seemed like nothing happened… then Siegfried’s wounds started to close. His eyes widening, he committed more energy to the spell. The glow became more intense as the wounds began closing faster, Siegfried’s breathing becoming easier. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at himself as his wounds began sealing up, his eyes widening as he witness Ren and Maria. “What in Odin’s auspices…” he whispered.

Burning pain lanced through Ren as he continued, but he didn’t let up. His body felt weaker and everything hurt, but still, he didn’t let up. His veins and nervous all felt like molten metal, but he could endure this. Just for a bit longer. As the last of Siegfried’s wounds finally closed, despite the torturous pain, he let out an exhausted smile.

And the ground rushed up to meet him.

Chapter Text

“How is he?” Morgana asked worriedly.

“According to the readings, stabilizing,” Roman murmured, looking over his monitor. He had dark bags under his eyes after going through yet another all-nighter. During that time, Da Vinci had been by his side, her usual brilliant smile replaced by a frown of concern. The other staff continued with their duties, monitoring the area but holding whispered conversations among themselves about the Masters Chaldea were currently fielding.

Mash and Morgana had been woken up by loud shouts from the Servants and witnessed helplessly as Ren had collapsed on the ground, convulsing and literally steaming as he vomited blood. Morgana tore off the communicator from Ren and immediately contacted Roman, screaming at the doctor for instructions.

It had been a desperate night as they covered Ren in bucketloads of ice to bring his temperature down, with Archer sketching formalcraft circles under Da Vinci’s instructions to restore some of his prana. Saber’s knowledge of battlefield health made sure he didn’t choke on his own blood or tongue. The newly restored Siegfried kept watch as both Marie and Mozart ran supplies from the leyline back to the cave. It was only after dawn broke that Ren’s breathing finally calmed and his signs were dropping back down to normal.

The catlike Master sighed with relief, then growled with rage. “What was he thinking?!” he snapped, rounding on Ren’s prone form and glaring at him. “Even in the Metaverse, we both agreed Salvation was too costly to use, then he decides to use it in the real world where the consequences are even worse?! Ren, you’re supposed to be reckless, not stupid!”

Ren’s eyelids twitched but otherwise gave no sign of regaining consciousness. Mash, who was kneeling by his head with a soft hand on his forehead, looked up at Morgana. “Please be quieter, Mr. Morgana,” she whispered. “I understand you’re angry with senpai but he’s resting right now. We may speak about it after he wakes.” It wasn’t like she couldn’t understand Morgana. She was well-versed in what magic circuit overuse looked like and Ren had sorely taxed his. They needed to have a long discussion after he woke up.

Siegfried looked utterly ashamed. “I take responsibility for this,” he murmured. “My weakness and wounds had pushed him to this point. I would gladly exchange my life for his for his valiance, yet I can do nothing. None of my Noble Phantasms can accelerate his healing.”

Morgana’s glare shot up to the dragonslayer for a moment, then he sighed, his tiny shoulders sagging. “It’s not your fault, Siegfried,” he replied. “Ren’s always been like this. He can’t stop himself from helping if he sees someone in trouble. And, well, you were certainly troubled.” He still remembered riding around in Ren’s bag as he went from location to location, person to person. All his confidants came from him stepping in to help them in need, and they in turn offered what they could: Knowledge, information, or supplies. Even if they didn’t, he helped how he could. That was simply how he was.

Of course, that wasn’t to say it didn’t backfire. They ended up meeting in the first place because one time Ren tried to help someone, it ended up with a false assault charge slapped on him by a corrupt politician and being sent to Tokyo on probation. Sure, it may have turned out well and they even got their revenge on said politician – Prime Minster hopeful Masayoshi Shido – but it was something that shouldn’t have happened to begin with.

There were consequences, however. There was no way in hell they could move Ren right now, not with him in such a delicate condition. Roman had his eyes glued on his readings in case something changed for the worse. The only consolation they had was that the doppelganger had been soundly beaten yesterday at Lyon, with most of her wyverns wiped out by Archer, Fafnir injured by the same, and was now uncertain what to do with the Phantom Thieves. She had no way of knowing Ren was currently incapacitated either. Regardless of her rage, she would be keeping her distance and licking her wounds.

A small comfort at least.

Still, Morgana was impressed with Ren’s logic. Apparently it took a Saint to exorcise Siegfried’s wounds and heal them, and so he summoned Saint Maria to do so. It was a prudent course of action: They had all felt the presence of Metatron, Satan, and Cu Chulainn like they were the beings themselves. So if that’s the case, why not bring a Saint of their own? Ren’s Wild Card abilities more often than not paid dividends back during their Metaverse adventures, and even here it was working well. Magic circuit overuse notwithstanding.

And he was angry with Ren all over again. What Ren had done was beyond stupid and reckless, at a time when they could afford to be stupid and reckless the least. He was going to tear Ren a new one as soon as he woke up!

It was already morning, though Mash nor Morgana really felt like eating at the moment. The Servants didn’t require food to begin with. The rains from the day before had stopped and the clouds passed, leaving dazzling sunshine that warmed up the air and ground. However, it was quiet: No typical sounds of birds or small animals moving in the undergrowth. A distant wyvern’s roar punctured the calm air periodically, serving as constant reminders that they ultimately weren’t safe.

Saber walked over and sat down in front of Morgana. Her face was stern and grave. “We have many things to discuss,” she stated.

Morgana warily glanced up at Saber, his gaze meeting her sharp green eyes. Hearing a bit of shuffling, he looked over to see Archer leaning up against a wall, a casual position save for the frown he wore. Both Marie and Mozart were nearby as well. While normally they would be rumormongers, they knew the situation was far more deadly than that and would need whatever information could be gleaned. Siegfried and Jeanne stood guard outside but were clearly within earshot. Mash only glanced back and forth between the Servants all joining the discussion but otherwise said nothing.

“There is absolutely no doubt that you and Ren are capable Masters, and we thank you for the kindness you’ve shown us,” Saber began. “However, it has been clear since our inception that both of you have been keeping secrets. That in of itself isn’t unusual. Everyone has their secrets after all, especially Servants. However, you have displayed magecraft that heretofore was completely unknown to everyone and could match Servants. You entered a reality marble and brought us with you, a feat that should be utterly impossible. And within that reality marble, you were able to match a Servant in combat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Not to mention, summoning aspects of angels, demons, saints, and even Servants with that magecraft as well,” she continued. “None of that is normal. Even by the standards of our time, your powers would’ve easily made you a considerable threat to many of my knights.” Saber glanced over at the unconscious Ren. “The both of you have proven yourself to be valiant and noble beyond any question,” she said, her tone softening a bit as she turned back to Morgana. “However, the time for secrets is quickly passing. We need a full measure of yours and Ren’s capabilities so we may adapt and fight however necessary. Your powers may be a massive boon, but if our enemies can take better advantage of it before we can, then it might spell the failure of us all.”

She drew herself up. “I ask that your trust us, Master Morgana,” she finished. “We are your Servants, dedicated to the preservation of humanity, for good or ill. Trust us with the information, just as we trust you to support us.”

Morgana stayed silent as he pondered Saber’s words. He glanced over to Mash. “Is the communicator off?” he asked.

Mash blinked, then nodded. “Er, yes, Mr. Morgana,” she replied, speaking softly so she wouldn’t wake Ren up prematurely. “The doctor said he will contact us if anything changes with Ren.”

The catlike Master nodded. He looked back at the gathering of Servants who were waiting expectantly. “Two conditions:” Morgana declared. “First, I can’t tell you absolutely everything, but I’ll explain what I can. And two, I want absolutely no word of this getting back to others. We might tell Roman and Da Vinci but leave that to us. We don’t this information falling into the wrong hands.”

The Servants all glanced at each other, then they all nodded. Morgana considered his audience. Artoria, Archer, Siegfried, Jeanne, Marie, Mozart, and Mash. They were an honorable group at least and would without a doubt honor the agreement.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, then he began to talk about the past year.

Hours later, the Servants were left with many thoughts.

Archer stood silently at the edge of the forest, away from the others. He had given the pretext that he was standing watch for anyone coming their way, but his true intention was clear to everyone: So he could be alone for a while. An Archer’s eyes were far sharper than a regular human’s regardless. Miles in the distance, he could see French soldiers moving about the ruined city of Lyon, cleaning up zombies and scouring the place. It seemed they hadn’t been tracked yet and couldn’t afford to.

The conversation with Morgana had been… mind-boggling, to say the least. Both him and Ren could enter areas on the cognitive plane, a realm that was theoretically impossible for most humans to achieve. It would be akin to breaching the ‘Reverse Side of the World’. However, they couldn’t enter freely. Conditions had to be met. Specifically, they could only enter the plane of someone who had a ‘Palace’, as Morgana called them. A mental construct that could be formed from a distorted desire and perspective of the world.

And by that definition, Archer’s reality marble was a Palace. Furthermore, Morgana pointed out his own Palace was extraordinarily unusual. Most people had Palaces that encompassed a building, maybe even a city at most. They had never seen one that encompassed the entire world.

He could only smile bitterly. A mental image born from a twisted desire, and his was so twisted it affected the entire world instead of something smaller like just a building. Unlimited Blade Works was undoubtedly the core of who he was. All the blades within the world were copies, symbolizing his desire to be a hero like he heard and read about. The barren landscape and hazy skies with the ponderous gears, all reflecting his despair of walking that path to the very end with nothing to show for it. Even after all this time, all he had learned and been through, Unlimited Blade Works was still there. It may have changed a bit, but it was still a fundamental part of who he was. He could – and would – never be rid of it.

There was also the revelation that they could change hearts. By stealing something called a Treasure – something that defined that person’s distortion – they could cause a cognitive shift in the person, removing the distorted desire and perspective, and allowing everything it was holding up to come crashing down on the victim. It was a rather dark method of enacting one’s goals, though when Morgana had been confronted with that, he bristled and snapped they only used it on criminals that normally would be untouchable.

His steel-grey eyes turned up to the sky. If they had existed then, could they have changed him? Could they have removed those twisted desires: to help everyone, to be a hero? Could they possibly have saved him from this fate? Of having to kill over and over and over again as a counter guardian? Was it possible he could’ve just been like everyone else and manage to live ultimately for himself, with a chance of actually finding his own happiness?

Again, he could only smile bitterly. A farfetched idea. Shirou Emiya was always a fool to the last, after all.

“Archer.”

The red-mantled hero glanced back, seeing Saber approaching him. He looked back over at the city. “Nothing to report, Saber,” he stated calmly as if commenting about the weather. “Seems like the French contingent we saw yesterday are still at Lyon cleaning up. I saw Gilles de Rais running around earlier. Doesn’t seem like they’re in any state to follow us though – they’ll have their hands full just trying to secure the location.”

“That’s good to hear,” Saber murmured distractedly. She walked up to stand beside him. Her eyes weren’t nearly as good as an Archer class’s, but that wasn’t the point. “Archer… what is your true name?” she asked.

He stiffened. Forcing a sardonic smile on his face, he shrugged. “Come now, Saber, you aren’t an idiot,” Archer snorted. “We’re on a battlefield right now, even if it’s just a lull as our Master recovers. Who knows if the enemy has some other capabilities of listening in on us? They do have a spy in their ranks, after all.”

“That’s not why I’m asking and you know it,” Artoria snapped, an edge creeping into her voice. “I only have some recollections from that Fifth Holy Grail War – not enough for a complete picture, just enough to know who or what was there. My Master - and your presence.” She looked over at him. Archer didn’t meet her eyes, still staring ahead. “Archer… Shirou. What happened to you?” she asked softly. “With your drive, I expected to meet you again sooner or later, perhaps in the fields of Avalon. Not like this.”

Archer was silent for a moment. “Is that what he promised you?” he whispered. Another sardonic smile spread across his lips, but this one tinged in sadness. “I discarded my name long ago, to fulfill ideals that could never be reached. It was a foolish dream. A beautiful one no doubt, but foolish nevertheless. In the end, I had no one by my side as I followed the road to being a hero. Without any attachments, I dedicated my soul to what I thought would be a way to save people: to the spirit of Alaya.”

Artoria’s eyes widened, immediately knowing the implications. Archer continued. “In the end, it was for nothing,” he muttered. “There was no end to that path. Humanity constantly suffered, and I was constantly called upon to end the cause of that suffering. Sometimes it was from much greater threats, but most of the time it was from other humans. Over and over, I killed and kept killing. In the end, all I could see for the rest of eternity was Hell.”

The King of Knights was silent as she pondered the information. “And when you saw yourself once more, what did you do?” she quietly asked, dreading the answer.

Another bitter smile. “What a desperate fool would try to do,” he replied. “I tried to break and kill him. It would’ve been a mercy for him anyway. It would’ve spared him from that Hell. But if you knew him as well as I did, you can guess what happened: He was far too stubborn. He reminded me that even though the dream was flawed, it was beautiful nevertheless. But more importantly, he had something else I didn’t have: Allies and friends by his side.”

His smile became softer. “With Rin by his side, as well as Sakura, he wasn’t going to put a toe out of line, or they’d drag him out of the grave just to kill him themselves. No, they would make sure in the end, he had something to come back to. He would never turn out like me. Not that one.”

They stood in silence, both pondering their words, their decisions, and the uniting thread between the two of them. “And what of you?” Artoria asked. “If your dream and your desires have caused you that much pain… will you ask our Masters to remove them from you?”

Archer was silent. He didn’t have an answer for her, and she knew it.

“I do not doubt your path led you to many hardships you never should’ve had to face,” she murmured. “Nor will I say I approve of continuously sacrificing yourself for others until there is nothing left.” She remembered faintly of Mordred’s face, twisted in hatred as she stabbed them with Rhongomyniad, and the maddened Lancelot howling amidst the flames.

“But your dreams have at the least carried you far,” she continued. “Do you mean to tell me there was nothing worth it on that path? The end may have been fruitless, but what of the journey itself? Was that all for nothing?”

He thought back. Before he became a counter guardian, a Servant, he had traveled all over the world, helping whoever and however he could. He never asked for anything in return for his labors – his only payment had been seeing the happiness of those around him, unable to feel happiness for himself. He supported and helped who he could, and even when they betrayed him in the end because they couldn’t understand him, he didn’t curse or hate them. He simply accepted it in the end.

“I once wished to use the Grail to go back and change the past so I never became king.”

That statement immediately drew Archer’s attention. The King of Knight’s eyes were misted over as she recollected her own memories. “I had sought to make myself as perfect a monarch as I could, making judgements and decisions for the benefit of my people. Yet in the end, Camelot still fell regardless due to my mistakes.” She smiled sadly. “But I learned that trying to change the past is ultimately selfish of me and would invalidate all that I’ve worked for, and all the works of my knights. For good or ill, it is part of who I am. So I stand resolute now, hoping to create a better future.”

She glanced over at Archer. “Your regrets are justified, and I know better than most what you are trying to accomplish. If having your heart changed truly is what you desire, I shall assist you and my Masters in doing so. However, I ask that you ponder those questions and allow me to hear your answer. Please, do me this one favor, Shirou.”

Archer opened his mouth to answer but before he could, Artoria had already turned around and quietly walked back into the forest. The only thing left he had for company were his own overwhelming thoughts.

Jeanne sat silently at a campfire, staring into the flames. She was only a small distance away from the cave where Ren currently rested, with Morgana keeping an unceasing vigil on his condition. Siegfried was currently standing guard, chatting with Mozart at the mouth of the cave. Archer was apparently keeping watch while Mash and Saber were patrolling the forest. Theoretically, she was supposed to keep watch as well, but her mind had been distracted heavily as of late. Besides, if there was anything that was a threat, someone would’ve noticed and reported it already.

Morgana had explained that those angels and demons that Ren was summoning were called ‘Personas’. It wasn’t that he was calling forth the Devil or angels literally. Rather, they were considered ‘cognitive’ beings. In layman’s terms, they were beings that existed in peoples’ minds. And because people of this era had the Devil or angels or saints in their mind, this granted Ren the ability to draw upon that image and bring them into the real world. In short, they were what they were because everyone believed that was what they are.

She had to admittedly ask multiple times for clarification – she didn’t receive much of a proper schooling – but Morgana had patiently explained it, with Archer surprisingly supplementing him in turn. But the long and short of it was that they weren’t ‘real’. They felt real because people believed they were real.

So why didn’t she feel at ease?

A movement to her side caught her eye. Glancing over, she saw Marie smiling, offering her a can. “A beverage that was sent to our Masters,” she explained brightly. “I’ve already asked for permission from monsieur Morgana. It’s supposed to energize regular people. Perhaps it might help for Servants?”

The Saint blinked in surprise, then smiled gratefully as she took the can. “My thanks,” she said. Looking curiously at the top, she noticed no clear openings, just a small ring-like protrusion that was mounted at the top. “Do… do you know how to open this?” she asked demurely.

Marie giggled. “Ah, non, I’m afraid not,” she admittedly easily. “But there’s enjoyment to figuring it out! Like solving a puzzle! Let’s see here…” The queen grabbed holding of the ring between her dainty fingers and began moving and levering it about, shaking and moving it in an attempt to cut the opening.

Then she pulled a little harder and the ring pushed the opening through – resulting in a fountain of soda that blasted her face. Marie squeaked with surprise as she jerked the can away from her far too late. Meanwhile, Jeanne squawked and fell backwards with shock. A few moments later, the spray settled down into an overflowing foam over her can and hand.

The two Frenchwomen stared at the can in shock, then at each other. Slowly, smiles cracked on both of their faces and they both fell into laughing. Jeanne could feel a small weight on her heart fall off. There were still many things to consider, but she hadn’t realized a small moment of levity like this was what she desperately needed the most. Not until she had it anyway. She moved to sit properly beside Marie was once as Marie licked some of the green liquid off the can.

“Tres bien!” she exclaimed. “It’s so sweet and tangy, with little bubbles!” She began drinking with gusto. Chuckling, Jeanne imitated with Marie did – holding the can away for safety – and pulled at the ring. There was a his and a pop, and it opened without any further hassle. Blinking in surprise, she brought the beverage to her lips and took a quiet sip. Her eyes immediately widened at the flavor as she began gulping it down. Marie hadn’t exaggerated in the slightest. It was indeed a delectable drink, far better than the beers and alcohols her country wrought.

Silently gulping down their drinks, they put down their cans with a sigh of satisfaction. Then Marie let out a burp, causing her to cover her lips in surprise. Jeanne blinked, then felt that sensation welling up from her gut as well and before she could stop herself, let out a surprising belch as well before also covering her own mouth. They both stared at each other for a second, then fell to laughing once more. Another small weight lifted off the saint’s heart.

Once they managed to calm down a bit, they set down their (now-empty) cans and stared into the fire. The only sound came from the crackling of sticks lit aflame. The silence between them was comfortable, but it was getting heavy regardless.

“What are you thinking about?” Marie inquired gently.

Jeanne sighed quietly. “Much,” she answered honestly. “My doppelganger has been using dragons and Servants to raze my home and slaughter my people. The Master of Chaldea uses powers that many would call heretical, even entering a reality marble and fighting a Servant directly. And just last night, he had summoned Saint Maria – the Virgin Mary herself – to exorcise Siegfried’s wounds and heal him. It is no less than a divine miracle that could allow for that.”

She hugged her knees close to herself. “In my life, I believed God watched over my and guided me,” she murmured. “Throughout all my battles, I put my faith in Him to see my men and I through. Even after I was condemned at my trial and burned at the stake, I still had faith in Him, that it was all His plan. It mattered little what happened to me, but He would see my people through. And yet…” She paused.

Marie said nothing, patiently waiting for Jeanne to continue. The saint hugged her knees closer. “To see someone bring forth such beings with so much ease disturbs me,” she admitted. “They are the power of ‘thought’ and ‘belief’ manifested. In that regard, they’re much like Servants. We hold power because people know of us and our power, and that grants us strength in turn. On one hand, I should be glad that they’re so powerful, both because it’s a considerable boon we have and it means that belief in our Lord and fear of the Devil are strong. On the other... I do not know whether to judge them as false idols or ‘aspects’ of Him. And what of the one who brings them all to bear, Ren? What would that make him in the end?”

Her shoulders sagged. “I do not believe he is a bad person,” she murmured. “One who would risk themselves to aid their Servants in the manner he has cannot be. The Lord has been silent in His judgement towards him. I’m unsure what to do.”

The French queen blinked at the Saint’s confession, reached over… and lightly smacked her on the head. Jeanne flinched, holding the spot where she was hit. “M-Marie?” she stammered.

Marie huffed. “Honestly, ma cherie, you are overthinking this far too much,” she retorted. “You stated that, by your judgement, he’s not a bad person, correct?” Jeanne hesitatingly nodded. “Does he himself seemingly worship the beings he brings out?” The saint shook her head. “Has he used them to play himself up as God or a Devil or anything of the sort?” Well besides scaring the living daylights out of her doppelganger, but she recognized that it was more playing psychological tactics than genuinely believing he was one. Again, she shook her head.

Nodding in satisfaction, Marie smiled. “Well, if that’s the case, then I do not see what the problem is,” she concluded. “And besides, the Lord has entrusted you with His will, non? Then that would mean He trusts you that what decision you make will be His decision too. So, if that is the case, then what decision you make in regards to Ren, most likely He will accept as well.”

Jeanne made a panicked noise. “I d-do not presume to know His will or His works,” she squeaked. “I simply work by His will, no less but certainly no more!”

“Yes, but that requires you to be able to work on your own initiative.” Marie didn’t relent. “He has appointed you for His will and mission, because He trusts you to make the right decisions. Therefore, if you believe Ren to be just and an able ally, then I’ve no doubt that He believes so as well.” She flashed a wry smile. “After all, Ren can seemingly work miracles – perhaps he was sent to us by His will?”

The saint opened her mouth, then closed it. She turned to stare back at the fire to contemplate Marie’s words. What Ren did for Siegfried was without a doubt considered a miracle. Whether the familiars he summoned the actual beings or mental facsimiles was at this point irrelevant. They were powerful and held the aura of the beings themselves. She considered back to Ren’s actions. No matter who or what he summoned, he had always been steadfast in his goals to defend humanity and her country. He had a strange sort of confidence with him, yet never felt like he placed himself above anyone else save his enemies. This wasn’t an issue that would be close to resolving anytime soon.

She was stirred out of her thoughts as Marie sidled over closer to her, gently resting her head on Jeanne’s shoulder with a warm smile. “Do not fret, ma cherie,” she murmured. “Even in my time, you stood as an inspiration to us all. I have no doubt that what you decide what is right. Whether by His will, or your own.”

Jeanne could only blink in surprise, a faint blush creeping into her face as her mouth opened, trying to find words to respond to Marie’s compliment and faith in her. Giving up, she sighed quietly as she looked up through the leaves of the forest. The sun was shining through the canopy, filtering down through the leaves and illuminating the forest in a display of light and shadow. The blue sky past the treetops was cloudless compared to the soaking weather the day prior. She quietly closed her eyes as she offered up a pray.

‘O Lord, please guide me through these troubled times, and may my heart and judgement be true…”

Chapter Text

The sun was gradually setting, orange rays bathing the countryside in warm light. The night sky was starting to make itself known in the furthest fringes of daylight, the stars glittering faintly. All in all, it had been a peaceful day. Unfortunately, the day’s march had been stolen from the Chaldeans. Ren hadn’t woken up the whole day, his condition at times fluctuating. Roman had been sending various medical supplies via rayshift and instructing others to care for him as necessary. There was still brain activity, thankfully, so Ren wasn’t in a coma or braindead. It was just a waiting game at this point.

Mash had taken turns running patrols or maintaining a vigil alongside Morgana over Ren throughout the day. Saber had come over to relieve her, however. As dedicated as she was, she was still a demi-Servant, and more liable to tire out than the others. Now she was at the campfire, staring at an MRE. She knew she should eat but didn’t feel all that hungry overall. She still worried for Ren. He had been pushing himself to greater and greater extremes with his gift. They were potent, but incredibly draining, and every mage knew that reckless usage of magecraft was flirting with death, if not outright suicidal.

She still remembered the curry and coffee Ren had made. They had only been out in France a few nights but she missed them. He seemed to always have a certain touch and skill to it that the automatic chefs just couldn’t replicate (and she tested it once or twice). And she saw Ren with Archer as well, learning new dishes. Archer seemed impressed with how deftly Ren handled various ingredients after a bit of teaching and how quickly he learned the recipes.

The omurice he had made was delicious, the only flaw being that the yolk was a bit less runny than it was supposed to be, according to Ren. Archer in turn simply told him that it was more than good enough for a first timer.

Sighing, she opened the pack and popped her meal and the flameless ration heater into a small sleeve before pouring a bit of water into it, then tucking it into a heat-insulated outer sleeve and setting it on a rock. It was supposed to be a spaghetti with meat sauce, though it was hardly as flavorful as the actual dish. It was serviceable enough though – they were supposed to be field rations, not high cuisine. There was an MRE pack of Asian style beef strips with peppers sitting on the side. Once Ren woke up, he would get that one ready for him. He might appreciate something a bit more familiar.

“Oh? It’s good to see you finally eating, Miss Kyrielight.”

Blinking, Mash looked over to see the smiling Mozart walking towards her. “Er, yes,” she stammered. “I have to be nourished and energized so that I might be ready for action at any time. I’m sorry for worrying you and the others about my lack of care. It won’t happen again.”

The composer easily waved it off. “Oh pish posh, you need not address those apologies to me,” he said. “I’m merely a musician – one of the best, in fact – not some military commander. But even if I were, I would say that your actions are hardly unreasonable and unsporting.” He sat down next to the fire as well, perpendicular to Mash, and glanced over at her. “After all, a young maiden in love rarely acts rationally. If anything, compared to others I’ve seen, you are the very model of rationality.”

Mash immediately spluttered, her face turning into the hue of a tomato. “M-Maiden in l-l-love?!” she stuttered out.

Mozart burst out laughing. “Ah, such precious, innocent love and youth!” he exclaimed happily. “Ah, rare is it to hear such a sweet melody. Fret not, Ms. Kyrielight. I only mean it in some jest and concern. I’ve had my share of loves myself, of course.”

“You have?” the shielder asked, blinking.

The musical Servant smiled fondly, recalling the memories. “Oh yes,” he replied. “Have you heard that once, I proposed to Marie when we were but children? I was six at the time I believe. I had just fallen down and was about to pick myself up, when Marie offered to help me up. She was radiant and beautiful, just like an angel. I said… I said… what did I say…?” He closed his eyes in thought then snapped his fingers. “Ah yes,” he exclaimed. “‘Thank you, nice lady. My name is Amadeus. If a beautiful lady like you has no fiancé yet, could I be your first one?’”

Mash’s eyes widened as she leaned forward in interest. “And what did she say?” she asked.

“Why, she rejected it, of course!” he responded, laughing. “As a princess, she had no say in who she could marry, no matter how our affections would’ve burned for one another.” His laughter dwindled down as he smiled wistfully at the fire. “And no matter what loves I would’ve gained, what friends I made, what bliss I would’ve found, I would’ve traded my life for music all over again. The kind of scum who would discard all manners of human virtue. And thus, here I stand as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – or sit, rather.” He chuckled a bit at his own joke.

The Chaldean girl considered his words. “Do… do you still love her? Marie?” she asked tentatively.

Mozart’s eyes flicked over with a gentle smile. “I love her, but not in love with her, Ms. Kyrielight,” he responded quietly. “I have no more passion for her. She was merely a special divergence in my fate. My soul would’ve been committed to music one way or another. However,” His smile widened a bit. “If there was someone who could change my fate, I think it would’ve been her. She certainly has the strength and will to do such a thing, no? Much like you and Ren over there.”

Mash’s eyes widened as she glanced over at the cave entrance nearby. Mozart easily followed her gaze and nodded. “He is a most intriguing individual,” he mused. “Ren is like a concerto, his notes and melody wild yet steady. But a concerto is hollow without the accompaniment, and he is sadly missing his.” He sighed. “But I will admit, I am not the greatest judge or aid to people. I am a composer and musician – no more, and certainly no less.”

The shielder gazed down upon the ground. “Senpai is… different,” she murmured. She had to organize her scattered, muddled thoughts. “He saw more of the outside world than I ever have, so I wanted to know what it was like. I hadn’t assumed he was a magus – merely a Master candidate. Then he begins to utilize magecraft that we’ve not seen or heard of before, with power rivaling that of Servants. And our Lancer had said that he was experienced. Like he has seen all this before. And senpai… senpai confirmed it. He even said it wasn’t his first or second time.”

She sighed. “I know I don’t know senpai well,” she continued. “But he feels far different than any person or magus, even in Chaldea. He seems afraid yet is more tired than anything else. He smiles in the day but cries during the night.” She had heard him quietly crying when they camped a few nights ago. It had taken all her instincts to not rush to his side. She bit her lip nervously. “I’m supposed to protect senpai, yet he’s already far beyond me in experience and strength. Despite everything, he still trusts me and relies on me but…”

Mash squeezed her eyes shut, a few tears spilling forth. “I don’t know if I’m worthy or even able to stand by his side,” she gasped out. “If you called me a maiden in love, then… is this love pure? Even if I’m so weak and might end up being a liability?”

Mozart said nothing, hearing the girl before him spill her heart out. Instead of answering directly, he nodded over to her MRE. “I believe your dinner’s getting cold,” he notified her. The shielder blinked through teary eyes, startled out of her reverie. She slowly took the sleeve and slid out the little packet of food, settling her hiccups as she took a plastic spoon and quietly ate. A few bites helped settle her mood somewhat.

“Simply because something isn’t pure doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful in its own right,” the composer said, looking up the darkening sky. “Humans are ultimately filthy things after all. Music is beautiful, yet it is composed by those same humans. Perhaps it would be a blessing for something to be utterly pure… or a curse. Unable to grasp the minutia of notes, beats, and melodies, the grandiosity of the concert.” He looked over at Mash. “I do not think that you need to concern yourself overmuch, Ms. Kyrielight,” he reassured her. “Your concerto has only just begun. Your accompaniment will follow soon enough. What symphonies will you and Ren play together? I must admit, I am more than tickled to find out.”

Mash blinked in surprise at the Caster’s words. Her trust wasn’t pure and she wasn’t free of doubt… and that was okay? She mused as she took another bite. Her duty was to protect her Master. That hadn’t changed whatsoever. He may be able to fight on a level she hadn’t expected, but he still needed someone to watch his back when Morgana wasn’t available. If so, then she would do her duty. And she would get stronger to do so. Mozart was right. Things had only just started. She couldn’t get discouraged.

Ren still trusted her, after all.

Then there was a rustling. Her eyes shot up to see Mozart struggling with the other MRE package. The one she had been saving for senpai. “Confound it, how do these blasted modern confections-!” he growled out. Then he yelped as it tore open, with everything flying into the air.

Or maybe she should take slightly less stock in Mozart’s wisdom.

Morgana sat glaring at the phone. He had taken it from Ren’s unconscious form and unlocked it – a rather simple feat given that he had seen him unlock it countless times. The Metaverse app had been opened and he had been trying to puzzle through it. It was easy and intuitive enough to use: It required a name, a place, and the distortion. Currently saved was Archer’s – respectively, ‘Shirou Emiya, ‘The world’, and ‘Unlimited Blade Works.’ The map portion was blank, however. That wasn’t too surprising – there wasn’t exactly a GPS to beam a map to the phone, after all.

During this time, however, he had decided to see if he could find a Palace among the Servants. He started with Chevalier D’Eon. However, no match came up for the fencer. Whatever was going on with D’Eon wasn’t a distorted desire, then. But still, that made things frustrating. And thinking about it, they really didn’t know much about the other Servants. They had been far too busy fighting for their lives than asking for names or trying to identify them. He decided on a lark to try another Servant: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Candidate Found.

The catlike Master’s eyes widened as he immediately looked around fearfully. It was just him and Ren at the cave. Everyone else was either out patrolling or keeping watch. He breathed a small sigh of relief that no one else heard it. So that clinched it. Servants could have Palaces, not just ones with reality marbles. Though the way Roman acted, reality marbles didn’t seem to be a common thing either. That was his hunch anyway. He’d have to ask and make sure later.

Still, he decided to discard Mozart for now. There wasn’t any point in delving into Palaces belonging to their allies. If anything, he needed to have a very long talk with Ren about how to approach this situation. Distorted desires may be found in humanity, but it wasn’t their job as Phantom Thieves to deal with every single one of them. No, that wasn’t their purpose. They were meant to take down those that couldn’t be dealt with more ordinary means and bring hope to everyone else.

And besides, people could change. Distorted desires could be removed naturally. Wasn’t that what they did with Sae, after all?

But now he had a new conundrum. It was clear that the source of all this trouble would be that doppelganger. If they could change her heart, it would most likely result in a chain reaction that would lead to them being able to deal with her and secure the Grail. And he had absolutely no doubt someone with that amount of rage had twisted desires and a Palace.

So theoretically, it was simple: They would lock onto her Palace, infiltrate it, and do what they always did. They would definitely bring their Servants along though – he wasn’t about to disregard Lavenza’s warning about a Servan’t Palace being far more dangerous than anything they’ve done before.

However, he was already falling flat at step one: The name. ‘Jeanne d’Arc’ obviously yielded no results. The saint herself held no twisted or distorted desires. Neither did ‘Joan of Arc’. He tried ‘doppelganger Jeanne’ or ‘fake Jeanne’ or ‘The Dragon Witch’ or some variation thereof. None of them yielded results. The cool woman’s voice only kept repeating ‘No candidate found’ like a broken record. He even took to yelling out some curses and unflattering names about the doppelganger, hoping that SOMETHING would stick. But it hadn’t. The Metaverse app remained as blank as ever.

Sitting down with a huff, he hit the power button on the phone to close it to sleep mode. Ren’s phone still had plenty of power but that didn’t mean he wanted to waste it, especially when he had nothing to show for it. He was stuck on ideas. He would have to get a pencil and a notepad sent to him so he could brainstorm a bit.

“I can see you are troubled.”

Morgana nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. Placing a paw on his chest to still his heart, he looked over to see Siegfried walking in. “Jeez,” he gasped. “You know, for someone as large as you and in full armor, you can be rather quiet when you want to be.”

Siegfried gave a rueful smile. “My apologies. I did not mean to surprise you.” He sat down in front of Morgana on the opposite side of the cave. Glancing over at Ren, he asked, “How is his condition?”

The catlike being’s eyes followed Siegfried’s gaze and sighed. “Still recovering,” he replied dejectedly. “Roman said that he hasn’t shown any signs of worsening so it’s likely he’s just sleeping it off at this point. I encourage him to get good sleep all the time but from this…” He shook his head. “This is the worst I’ve ever seen him.”

The dragonslayer raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen him in other states?” he inquired.

Morgana froze for a second at what he let slip, then sagged in resignation. Well, the (figurative) cat’s already been out of the bag for a while. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ve been with him through thick and thin. He’s had it pretty rough, to be honest, more than most other people. But this… well, this is beyond almost anyone. I’m here supporting him as best I can, but then he goes and acts like an idiot!”

He mussed up his head in frustration. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here! I’m supposed to support him but here I am, unable to do a thing! It’s…! It’s…!” In lieu of finishing his sentence, he simply covered his mouth with his paws and let out a muffled scream.

Siegfried nodded sympathetically. “It is indeed frustrating when one doesn’t have the capability to render aid,” he murmured, glancing at the unconscious Master. “At the very least, he has proven to be a very noble soul. Of that, there is no doubt. And I owe you and Ren my life. Should you require me to lay my life and sword down for you, I shall do so without hesitation.”

Sighing, Morgana waved it off. “Cut it out, we don’t ask others to sacrifice themselves for us,” he replied wearily. “For us, we stick together no matter what. At least, that’s what we all promised each other. But…” He clenched his small paws. “But it’s just us now. Ren knows it all too well. I know it too. All our friends and family. He’s…” He let out a small gasp as his eyes watered.

“He’s all I have left…”

The Saber looked unsure of what to do. He quietly got up and sat down closer to Morgana, reaching up with a gauntleted hand to pet him. Morgana froze momentarily at the touch, then closed his eyes as he involuntarily began purring. “You know it’s not proper to pet a cat while wearing a gauntlet, right?” he snarked, grateful regardless he managed to distract him for now.

Chuckling, Siegfried replied, “My apologies. I’ll be sure to do so next time.” He glanced over at the phone that lay near Morgana. “What were you doing with that device, may I ask?”

Morgana blinked and looked over. “Oh, that?” he asked. He sighed as he activated the phone and unlocked it again. “This is the Metaverse app. It’s how Ren and I get into the cognitive world,” he explained. “It’s surprisingly easy to use. We just need the name of our target, the location, and the distortion – basically what they see that location as. I’ve been trying to use it for the Jeanne doppelganger but it’s not popping up for her. Jeanne doesn’t have a Palace, obviously, and I can’t find the right keywords to get to it.”

Siegfried blinked at the explanation and reached over to grab the phone. He glanced over at Morgana. “May I?” he asked. Morgana nodded and the dragonslayer took the device delicately, looking at the little interface.  He had no experience with modern devices, admittedly, and the Grail didn’t fill him in with knowledge of how to utilize them. He quietly breathed out as he tried to consider. “Hrm, perhaps…” he mused.

“What, have you got something?” Morgana asked curiously.

“Of a sort,” Siegfried admitted, handing the phone back to Morgana. “As you can guess, certain Servants are not normal. Sometimes they are a different representation of who they were, or perhaps a being that had been tainted by outside forces. Often, they’re placed in a different class entirely. Most of the time, it matters little if we call them by their original names as their original counterparts aren’t here but not in this case.”

Morgana frowned. “Okay, but the original’s here, so what do we do now?” he asked impatiently.

The dragonslayer took a moment before responding. “I’m not sure if this will be of any aid but… we tend to call those kinds of Servants Alters,” he explained. “Named so because they are the same Servants as their original counterparts, just altered in some way. Perhaps this doppelganger is an Alter?”

The catlike Master shook his head confusedly. “So… what do I call her then?” he asked, flabbergasted. “Alter Jeanne d’Arc? Or Jeanne d’Arc Alter or what?”

Candidate found.

Both of them froze and glanced at the phone. The name ‘Jeanne d’Arc Alter’ had registered with the Metaverse app. Morgana quickly picked it up, staring at the name like it was a Grail itself. “We got a hit!” he breathed. “Now all we need is a place and a distortion!”

Siegfried nodded in understanding. At the very least, knowledge of Servants had been granted to him through the Throne of Heroes upon his summoning. “Perhaps the place of her birth, then Domremy?” The app responded negatively. “Hrm, perhaps the site of her execution, then? Rouen?” Again, the app responded negatively, causing him to frown once more. It seemed neither location was the right one.

“Well, maybe it’s city that the doppelganger first destroyed?” Morgana suggested. “She seemed to have a heavy grudge against it. What was it? Orleans?”

Candidate found.

They both looked down at the phone as the place was registered. Morgana gulped. Of course it would be there. And as far as they knew, it was also there that doppelganger had her base of operations. This wasn’t like a Palace in the past where they could just walk right up to it. Here, it was in the heart of enemy territory. In order to enter her Palace, they would basically be going right up to her doorstep. They could possibly enter the Metaverse and just make their way over, but he had no idea just how dangerous stepping into the cognitive world of a Servant could be. He wasn’t chancing that.

Now the last one: the distortion. “You mentioned that the ‘distortion’ is what she sees the location – in this case, Orleans – as in her eyes, correct?” Siegfried asked. Morgana nodded. The dragonslayer frowned as he considered. “Hm, perhaps she sees it as a command center?” he suggested. The app denied that suggestion.

“Or, I dunno, an execution site?” Morgana said. That was also denied.

They went back and forth with different suggestions, from ‘castle’ to ‘throne’ to ‘torture chamber’. However, nothing seemed to fit. After about twenty minutes of guessing and brainstorming, Morgana flung his paws up into the air. “ARGH, this is getting nowhere!” he shouted. “We don’t have enough info! What the hell does that Alter think about anything of anywhere anyway?!”

Candidate found.

That caught both of their attention immediately. The phone had registered the distortion from Morgana’s outburst, however accidental. The catlike Master picked up the phone and stared at it. “Hell,” he stated, his voice hollow. “She thinks of Orleans as Hell.” Beyond a castle, a bank, a ship, or even the laboratory, the distortion this time was Hell itself. Just how dangerous would this Palace be? A Servant Palace with a distortion of Hell that could cover a city…

“I shall inform the others,” Siegfried stated, moving to stand up.

“No, not yet,” Morgana immediately countermanded, to Siegfried’s surprise. “It’ll be better if Ren is up as well. The two of us are more experienced in dealing with Palaces than you guys are, so we can fill you guys in and we can all plan on what’s going on. We can’t rush willy-nilly in like this. We’ve been to Palaces before, but only those of normal people. We don’t know what a Servant’s Palace is like and we’re not gonna chance it.”

Siegfried nodded in understanding, sitting back down. “Discretion is the better part of valor,” he noted, easily accepting Morgana’s argument. No sane warrior would charge straight into enemy territory without a plan, and the cognitive plane belonging to their enemy is perhaps the deepest enemy territory one can be in. Everyone could understand the reasoning. Once Ren was awake, they could begin their planning in earnest…

After everyone gave the boy a good drubbing on the head first, of course. With Morgana first in line to do so.

“These expeditions of yours,” Siegfried asked. “How long do they take? And how perilous are they?”

Morgana glanced over. “It depends, really,” he replied with a shrug. “Whenever we had to go into a Palace, we usually had a deadline of a couple weeks for some reason or other. Sometimes it takes us a couple days, other times only one. And sometimes we have to do something in the real world in order to make progress.” He thought back to all the times they had to bounce back and forth between reality and the Metaverse and blew a sigh. “Man, thinking about it, sometimes we just got really lucky,” he murmured.

The Saber smiled sympathetically. “Luck is as important a factor on the battlefield as anything else,” he replied. “Strategy, skill, strength, and speed can mitigate misfortune or bring greater results to a stroke of good luck, but to discount it entirely would be disastrous. And sometimes, fortune is beyond your ability to control, no matter your stratagems or intentions.”

After all, he himself stood as an insurmountable hero and warrior, yet circumstance after circumstance eventually forced him to a corner where he convinced his best friend to kill him like a coward, as invincible as he was. And in the end, it had all begotten nothing but pain and misery. Small wonder his luck was at a miserable E rank.

“Ugh, you’re telling me,” Morgana grumbled. Thinking back on it, they had been more than fortunate overall. Had Ren and Ryuji not stumbled into Kamoshida’s Palace, he never would’ve escaped and would’ve been executed by that lecherous gym teacher king. Had Ann not caught Yusuke’s eye for aesthetics, they never would’ve encountered Madarame or figured out how to delve deeper into his Palace. And that was just two examples out of far too many.

And had Haru not had access to the Metaverse or came across him, it was all too likely he would’ve perished in Okumura’s Palace when he left the Phantom Thieves.

Was it all fate? Was it that damn God of Control pulling the strings so that they could continue along the twisted, rigged game he had set up for them? Was it Igor or the one above him? Or was it as Siegfried said: That sometimes, it was just sheer, dumb luck that they managed to pull through with victories? Whichever the case, it was certainly distressing to think about. They couldn’t exactly rely on luck anymore – hell, Morgana was certain that their luck couldn’t get much worse at this point, what with the Incineration of Humanity being the starting point.

… he cursed himself for ever thinking those thoughts and jinxing it.

“Neither you nor Ren lack for intelligence or courage,” Siegfried reassure him, smiling. “Nor do you lack for loyalty either, be it giving or receiving. At the very least, as I have said, I am indebted to Ren and shall assist him even if it should mean my life. Your Servants appear to be quite capable too. I would recommend you do not stress overmuch, lest you miss something a calmer mind would be able to spot.”

Morgana blinked over at the Saber, then sighed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” he replied wearily. He stood up. He hadn’t eaten all day and he was getting hungry. Perhaps some food would alleviate his mood and worrying. “I’m gonna grab something to eat, hopefully they have some fish with the rations they sent us,” he stated, stretching. He glanced over at Siegfried. “Can you keep an eye on him? And do you want me to grab you anything?”

The dragonslayer shook his head. “Thank you for your generosity, but I am quite fine – Servants do not require sustenance and I would rather not strain your supply lines,” he replied kindly. “I will watch over your friend and will inform you if anything has changed.” Morgana nodded and walked toward the campfire, which was a bit noisier than he expected. He hadn’t expected to see Mozart groveling on the ground in front of a pouting Mash, though. His mouth dropped open for a bit, then he closed it and marched off to grab an MRE.

He was not dealing with this while hungry.

“You have good companions and friends,” Siegfried noted as he watched Morgana leave, waiting until he was out of earshot to speak. “I can see why you would be willing to risk yourself for them, let alone a stranger like me.” He sat back as he looked over to Ren with a reassuring smile. “Still, I doubt their wrath will be any more mitigated if they see you like this. I highly recommend resting a bit more so you’ve the energy to handle them the next day.”

One of Ren’s eyes opened as he blearily looked over at Siegfried. “H-how long did you know?” he mumbled. His body still ached something fierce and felt oddly weak. He was definitely in no condition to move anytime soon.

Siegfried chuckled. “As soon as you woke up – right before Morgana figured out how to access the doppelgangers… Palace, I believe you two called it,” he replied.

The Chaldean Master said nothing. He quickly pieced together that Morgana had told them about Palaces at the very least, judging by their conversation, but wasn’t sure how much he said besides that. He would have to ask later. But regardless, he trusted Morgana. Whatever he told everyone must’ve been necessary, and he wouldn’t have revealed anything he shouldn’t have. But their conversation about luck… Ren had no right to talk about it. His terrible luck was what landed him that false police conviction and probation in the first place. And it was by consistent strokes of good luck that he had survived his adventures in the first place. How long would it last him? What would happen if it failed at the very last moment?

“Ruminating after waking up from a battle is common, but far from helpful,” Siegfried gently admonished. He had long experience watching recovering warriors in infirmaries dwell over their mistakes. “Focus on rest for now. Once you are hale and healthy once more, we shall head for the battlefield once more. And on my honor, you shall have my blade by your side.”

Ren let out a low chuckle, despite that small movement sending lances of pain throughout his system. “G-good to know,” he mumbled out. “Will be counting o-on you, th-then…” His single eye closed, and soon his breathing softened and steadied as he fell into sleep once more.

Siegfried watched as he fell asleep, then looked outside. The sun was disappearing beyond the horizon, the stars glittering like gems against the tapestry of the night sky.

A day of repose before resuming a war.

Chapter Text

A new day had come. The sky was cloudy with a few patches of clear sky, though there was no sign it was going to rain anytime soon. The Servants were either standing guard or patrolling the forest. So far, the doppelganger hadn’t made any moves or advances that they could see, but that certainly didn’t mean they could stay in one place for too long. The war-veteran Servants – Archer, Jeanne, and the two Sabers – were antsy about not being able to move for so long, but they knew that moving Ren prematurely would only risk his health. They had no choice but to wait until he recovered.

Mash yawned as she sat by the remains of the campfire. She didn’t bother relighting it. The weather was warm enough, and at this point, lighting it would just further give their position away. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. It had been rather fitful, juggling the words from Mozart, Roman, and Ren, as well as various nightmares: when she saw Ren was still with her after the bombing in Chaldea and didn’t know what happened to Roman, when she saw Ren panicking about the zombies,

When she heard Ren crying in the night…

She heard a bit of shuffling. Glancing over, she saw Morgana stretching as he walked down from the cave, sitting a small distance from her. She offered a small smile to the catlike being. “Good morning, Mr. Morgana,” she greeted pleasantly. “Did you sleep well?”

“About as well as I could, I guess,” Morgana replied, sighing. He hadn’t slept well either, fretting about Ren’s condition and mulling over the fact that the doppelganger and Archer both had a Palace – and the implications that involved. He rubbed his large eyes with his paws. It was definitely something he needed to discuss with Ren about when they had the time and safety to. But not now, not in the Singularity. They needed to remain focused.

“Let’s get some breakfast first though,” he suggested. “Probably not best to wait on an empty stomach.” Mash nodded in agreement as she grabbed some more rations that had been sitting in her pack. Morgana had had the lemon pepper tuna the other day and while he loved fish, the MRE was… serviceable. He tried not to complain too much though, no matter how much he wanted to. This wasn’t like when they were back in Tokyo, where they could regularly eat from any restaurant or LeBlanc’s curry. They were out in the field where food was scarce and needed to be preserved. 

Morgana idly wondered if this was what camping was like, then discarded the thought. He had a feeling that actual camping wasn’t quite as… spartan as this. Still, that certainly reinforced that he didn’t want to be in an actual military any more than he already did. 

They prepped their meals, heated them up, and ate in silence after. There wasn’t really anything to talk about. Neither of them were in the mood for casual conversation, mulling over their own thoughts, they already knew of Ren’s condition and that it hadn’t changed, and frankly they were just too tired to really talk. For now, it was just the quiet of the forest and the ever-present distant roars of wyverns.

As they ate, they heard some shuffling from behind them. They turned to see who it was – and both pairs of eyes widened as they saw Ren stagger out, leaning on a tree for support. Ren gave the two a very tired smile. “Hey guys,” he greeted casually. “Something smells good.”

A couple minutes later, Ren was wolfing down his ration. He hadn’t eaten a bite since yesterday and was starving. He also gulped down at least two bottles of water. His body still felt sore and weak, though not as much as yesterday – yesterday, he could barely even move. What he had done had taken a lot more out of him than he expected, like he had sprinted a marathon in the space of one hour. At the very least, he could move albeit with some difficulty. 

While Ren ate, more Servants became aware of Ren’s recovery, starting with Archer who silently leaned up on a tree behind him. Then Saber , quietly sitting down on a nearby log. Siegfried came and stood nearby as Jeanne sat across from Saber. Mozart and Marie saw Ren and were about to greet him happily but noticed the rather subdued mood of everyone else and kept their mouths shut. Instead, they simply hung out nearby.

Finally, Ren finished, putting down the ration bag with a sigh. The rations were never great, but for someone who was as hungry as he was, it was more than delicious to his deprived taste buds. And the water did wonders as well. He was probably imagining it but it certainly felt like his body felt a bit lighter and a little less sore after the food and water. Granted, it was probably a temporary reprieve but it was better than nothing.

“Are you done, Ren?” Morgana asked, his tone oddly flat.

Ren blinked. “Um, yeah,” he responded. “I was starving so sorry about that. Anyway, we should probably get a move on – already wasted a day thanks to me.” He made to stand up but a sharp glance from his closest friend froze him in place. 

“Good,” Morgana stated. “In that case…” Before Ren could ask what was going on, Morgana had taken out his scimitar and whacked him hard with the flat of the blade, sending him sitting back down cradling his now very sore head. “You complete, absolute moron , Ren Amamiya!” he screamed. “I get that you’re reckless but that was beyond reckless, that was just stupid ! You could’ve died when we need you the most! Just… what were you thinking?! ” 

Ren only gaped at his friend. Morgana had always been short tempered and a bit more emotional than he would ever admit, but this was the first time he had ever seen his friend completely and utterly lose his composure like this. And looking into Morgana’s eyes, he could see a mix of emotions that felt alien to the normally boastful creature: Fear, panic, worry, relief. Whatever his reply was got caught in his throat and for once, the normally calm Ren was at a complete loss of words.

“He’s right,” Archer stated. Ren looked back and met Archer’s hard eyes. “Doing what you did was definitely stupid. I understand wanting to test your magecraft and utilizing it when there’s an opportunity, but right now, we cannot afford such risks, not when they can be avoided. Your mystery went far beyond your capabilities. Had we all not acted quickly, it’s likely you would’ve died painfully.”

“Archer speaks the truth,” Saber cut in, her face stern. “We Servants can be wounded and hurt, yes, but we are far hardier than the average person. Your restoration of Siegfried is to be commended, but not at such great risk to your health. Your safety is key, Master. If you die, our ties to Chaldea would be all the more tenuous, as Morgana will be the only Master left. To say you are the lynchpin to the restoration of humanity would be an understatement, especially given your talents.”

“To bring the image of Saint Maria to restore Siegfried truly is a miraculous act,” Jeanne added. “However inspirational a martyr is, though, that is not what we need right now. Humanity will need your will, power, and kindness in the days to come. Inspiration can only take root if there are people to spread it to, after all. I do not doubt the kindness of your heart nor your earnestness at this point, but bravery and recklessness hold a very thin border. If this happens again, we shall have words.”

Ren’s eyes could only dart between the various Servants who all seemed to want a turn lampooning him for his actions. He couldn’t even get a word in otherwise. One part of him wanted to lash out. After all, he had healed and restored Siegfried so they were back at full strength now. The doppelganger wouldn’t be able to take advantage of his injuries and exploit that weakness. However, those protests died in his throat as he looked into the eyes of everyone present. They were angry, yes, but also etched with worry and fear.

He had seen similar faces before. From his confidants when they met after he faked his death escaping the police station. From his friends whenever he tried one too many death-defying stunts or stands. 

From Akechi as he confronted Ren about wavering in his resolve so that everyone could live infinitely happy lives in the false utopia Maruki granted all of them.

Before yet another Servant could take their turn, Ren raised his hands, silencing them. “You’re right,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “I was reckless. I just thought that the doppelganger would try to capitalize on Siegfried’s weakness, but I definitely overstretched myself. I’m sorry for worrying you guys. Won’t happen again.”

Morgana huffed, looking up at Ren sadly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ren,” he murmured. 

Ren could only blink in surprise, opening his mouth to ask, then closed it. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time for a real heart-to-heart. They already lost a day thanks to him being unconscious and recovering all throughout. If they could survive this and resolve the singularity, then he and Morgana would talk – though that still left in the air about how much he would tell Da Vinci and Roman. Given all that he had done, there weren’t many things he could keep secret for much longer. If he wanted to succeed and see everyone again…

Steadying himself, his eyes sharpened as he looked at everyone present. “Tell me everything that’s happening,” he stated.

----------

With that, everyone began filling him in on what was happening. Throughout yesterday, nobody had seen any sign of the doppelganger, her Servants, or her wyverns. The battle from the other day had depleted a considerable number of her forces and there was little doubt she was licking her wounds, trying to recover. They weren’t certain how much she had recovered at this point – and it could very well be rather immediate considering she most likely had a Holy Grail with her – but at the very least, she was keeping a wide berth from them. That gave them some breathing room to work with.

Morgana had explained to everyone present about Personas and Palaces, including the Metaverse Navigator app. Everyone accepted that Ren wasn’t exactly channeling the powers of angels and demons themselves, but rather, peoples’ cognitions of them. And because the collective unconsciouness ‘believed’ Ren’s personas were what they were, so did everyone else. That at least helped settled any further misunderstandings for now.

Ren had a sinking feeling it wasn’t fully resolved but for now, it’d have to be enough. There would be time later if they survived here. 

And finally, the greater news: Morgana and Siegfried had found the doppelganger’s – Jeanne Alter’s – Palace. The location was Orleans and the distortion was Hell, which sent alarm bells ringing within Ren’s head. None of the Palaces the two had ever encountered had been as grandiose as Hell, and as experienced as they were, neither of them were exactly in the mood for storming through Hell without being prepared. Not to mention, they were too far and Orleans was the heart of enemy territory. No, he agreed with Morgana’s assessment: No way were they entering that Palace without hefty preparations. And that meant securing more allies.

With that, the plan was set. Roman did say that he had found readings of a Saint nearby. Pulling up the map, the closest unexplored town was that of Thiers. It was a couple miles away. If they left now, they would probably reach it by early afternoon. With that set, Ren stood up as everyone began making their preparations – and nearly fell over as his sore, exhausted legs gave out. Mash immediately moved to his side and caught him.

Ren took a breath to steady himself, then smiled at her. “Thanks Mash,” he said.

Mash gave a weak smile to Ren in return. “You push yourself too hard, senpai,” she replied softly. “I… I hope I’m not unreliable.”

The Master blinked in surprise at that statement and shook his head. “No, not at all Mash,” he quickly reassured her. He stood up straight, still feeling his sore and burning limbs. It was better not to use his personas today if he could help it. If. “It’s a… bad habit of mine is all.”

She frowned. “A bad habit?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I’m not the sort to leave people in trouble. Not if there’s something I can do about it. It’s my own fault, so don’t worry too much about it.”

Mash’s eyes widened. “Don’t… worry?” she repeated again. “Senpai, you were on the verge of death. You’re last hope Chaldea – humanity – has. Mr. Morgana, the Servants, Roman, Da Vinci, me, we were all worried about you!” She couldn’t prevent her voice from raising in volume a bit. She bit back a comment and took a breath. “Please, senpai, I’m supposed to protect you,” she whispered. “But I can’t protect you if you won’t protect yourself.”

She looked up at Ren and her eyes widened. For a split second, she thought she could see his true self: Vulnerable, hurt, lonely, scared. Then once more, the mask descended on his face and he gave her a rueful yet confident smile. “Right, right, bad thing to say,” he admitted easily. “I’ll be more careful. Promise. Now, we should probably get this show on the road.” Flashing her another smile, he stepped past her to grab his supplies and confer with the Servants. They had a lot of ground to cover today.

Leaving behind a very worried Shielder.

----------

The day passed by without too much of a hassle overall. However, with Ren’s condition, they were moving at a slower pace than usual. Though there was no sign of the doppelganger or any of her forces nearby, Archer continued to keep a careful watch while Saber, Siegfried, and Mash formed a protective cordon around the two Masters. Jeanne was at the flank while Marie and Mozart came up from behind. There were multiple times Ren asked if they could pick up the pace, only to be met with a swift rebuttal about his condition.

And so they marched, stopping occasionally to allow for Ren and Morgana to rest and recover. Roman checked in on Ren and his condition – and of course, had his round of lambasting the Master as well. Ren could only sigh and nod. He had deserved this, after all. The more he kept his head down, the sooner they could move on. There were more important matters right now anyway. They needed to focus.

It was mid-afternoon when the town of Thiers came into view. From what they could see, the town wasn’t as destroyed or run-down as the ones they had come across, but it was still clear that it had been desolated overall. Ren frowned. Were there any survivors there after all? Would they be able to gather information? His thoughts were interrupted by a burst of flame erupting from the town. The Servants all stiffened, ready to draw their weapons.

Archer narrows his eyes at the town. “I see no signs of wyverns,” he announced. “Whatever’s causing the flames, it’s something else.”

The communicator beeped once more. Ren tapped it, revealing Roman. “I’m detecting readings of two rogue Servants ahead! You guys better be careful!” he cautioned them.

Ren nodded. “Thanks, Roman,” he said shortly before turning it off. He looked up to see everyone staring in his direction for orders. “These are rogue Servants,” he explained. “We’re going in to recruit them so no hostilities if we can help it. Stay together and no sudden moves. If they know we’re coming, they’ll hopefully be more inclined to be friendly. Still, don’t let your guards down.” The Servants all nodded and proceeded into the town. As they approached the town square, they could hear two girls’ voices arguing and bickering. Nearby, Mozart started shaking.

“Ah, that cacophony, that screeching,” he whimpered. “It only heralds pain and misery. Masters, there’s no need to proceed, is there? Surely these Servants aren’t worth the assault on one’s ears. Whoever these two are, they are no saints – religions would surely tumble if they were objects of worship. We would be much better off without them, I should think.”

The two Masters only stared incredulously at him. Marie, however, stated their opinions directly. “ Non, Amadeus,” she scolded. “They have made it clear we need the firepower by any means necessary. If we are braving Hell itself, then it’s better to have as many allies as possible, yes?” She flashed a beatific smile. “And they do say a man who braves Hell deserves nothing but endless adulation, after all.”

Mozart blinked, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Ah, ah yes, you are right, Maria,” he replied with a weak smile. “Though I do have the premonition that whatever Hell I shall be subjected to will be considered paradise to what comes next.”

Everyone just looked at each other, shrugged, and kept going. The square was coming into view, and although the town was for the most part deserted, they could see two girls squabbling with each other. The first girl had long, hot pink hair, wearing a short dress with a large, flared skirt and a considerable number of ruffles. However, her most prominent features were the pair of black horns sticking out of her head and a black dragon-like tail that flowed from underneath the skirt.

The other girl was shorter and slimmer, with long turquoise hair and striking yellow eyes. She wore a white kimono with turquoise highlights and held a gold fan in her hand which she held open in front of her mouth. A pair of snow white horns protruding from the sides of her head, smaller than the first girl’s but still more than noticeable, a golden hair ornament tucked neatly underneath them. 

Ren and Morgana could only look between the two. Under normal circumstances, they’d ask or consider it cosplay, but given all they had seen so far – from a female King Arthur to Jeanne d’Arc to Marie Antoinette to ghouls and wyverns to a gigantic dragon… at this point, it was better to assume they were real and work from there. 

As for their argument…

“You! You, you, you!” The pink haired one screeched. “You cheeky squirrel from the East!”

The turquoise girl giggled. “Who’s the actual cheeky one?” she retorted, her gentle voice laced with malice. “Do you think a failure like you can beat a true dragon like myself, Elizabeth?”

The pink hair girl’s eyes widened with rage as she brandished her spear. “I’ll deal with Carmilla later! You die first, you creepy stalker!” she screamed.

The other girl’s eyes narrowed behind her fan. “I’m not a creepy stalker. I’m a ‘spy who acts as a bodyguard’. I, Kiyohime, am a woman who lives for love.”

“Your love violates human rights!”

“I don’t want to hear that from a pervert with a fetish for blood torture!”

The group could only look back and forth between the two arguing girls, nonplussed. They had expected some sort of epic fight, not… this. “Um… how old are these girls?” Morgana asked slowly.

“Age is rarely a relevant matter in the case of Servants, Master,” Saber replied with a controlled expression. “But I will agree there is a… profound lack of maturity or urgency from these two.”

“The two of them have declared themselves dragons, or at least associated with them, though,” Siegfried pondered. “Still, I doubt these two have had anything to do with the wyverns or Fafnir. They do not seem to be overall malicious, just… petty.”

Archer sighed. “Well, regardless, we’re here now,” he stated, already looking beyond done with the situation. “We should do what we came here for in the first place.”

Ren nodded. He appreciated Archer keeping everyone on track. Still, looking over at the two girls, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be fun. He had seen similar kinds of fights every once in a while in Shujin, but that usually didn’t involve two superhuman beings who would skewer him, judging from that spear the pink haired one – Elizabeth – was wielding. “Mash, Saber, back me up,” he said. “Everyone else, keep your distance but be ready at a moment’s notice. Morgana, brief the others on that in case it’s necessary.”

Morgana nodded. “Got it, Joker,” he acknowledged. “You better stay safe this time.” 

He simply smirked and waved before approaching the two. Mash and Saber followed. Siegfried may have been a more fitting choice given he was a dragonslayer, but he was here for negotiation, not to coerce or threaten them. Steeling his jumpy nerves, he flashed a confident smile. “Didn’t think I’d see two lovely ladies here in a ruin,” he called out. “Tell me, what brought you to this town?”

Both girls whirled toward Ren and he had to force himself not to back down from their fierce glares, their wrath now redirected. “Stay out of this, puppy!” Elizabeth snarled.

“Recklessness and bravery aren’t the same,” Kiyohime admonished, frowning from underneath her fan. “Are you stupid?”

Ren blinked and – to the surprise of both girls – chuckled. “Yeah, been getting that a lot today,” Ren replied easily. “But let’s start from the top, shall we? I’m Ren Amamiya. A Master at Chaldea. We’re an organization dedicated to getting the timeline restored, and in this case, get France back on track. We need allies to help take down the doppelganger saint that’s causing this ruckus here. So, will you come with us?”

The two girls glanced at each other, only slightly relaxing their poses. “He is well spoken if nothing else,” Kiyohime noted to Elizabeth, to which she nodded. “And why should we do such a thing?” she asked, raising her voice so she could be heard. “This is not our land. Whatever quarrels you or the saint have is no business of ours.”

“Yeah!” Elizabeth piped up. “I dunno where you come from and frankly, I don’t care! Buzz off and keep your nose out of our business, got it?!”

Ren chuckled once more. “Sorry but sticking my nose in things has kind of been my MO since day one,” he replied. “But if that’s the case, what are you here for? You two stick out like a sore thumb and considering how wyverns and a huge dragon have been terrorizing the countryside, I don’t see you two being all too welcome around here. Why are you two hanging around France?”

Elizabeth smirked and drew herself out, hands on her hips. “Well if you must know,” she declared. “I’m looking to become an idol! I’ll attract an audience of thousands, no, tens of thousands! As an idol, it doesn’t matter where I am! I’ll shine like a star and dazzle everyone, and fans worldwide will cheer my name: Elizabeth Bathory!”

“Oh please, the only thing that’ll shine is your delusional ego,” Kiyohime snarked.

“What was that?!” Elizabeth declared.

“As for me,” Kiyohime continued, fully ignoring her compatriot. “I seek my Anchin-sama. My love of my life who once lied to me. But he won’t. He won’t lie to me ever again, for he loves and adores me, and I him. However, if there’s one thing I find utterly unforgivable, it is lies.” Her eyes narrowed. “Will you lie to me, Ren Amamiya?”

“Pft, good luck finding your Anchin-sama in a dump like this,” Elizabeth scoffed. “And that’s if he doesn’t run away screaming from you.”

“You should watch your mouth, you frilled-neck lizard,” Kiyohime growled.

“Wha – Japanese Rat Snake!”

“Mexican Bearded Lizard.”

“Sharp-nosed Viper!”

And just like that, the two fell into bickering again. Ren only heaved a long, drawn-out sigh. “Well, it’s clear that you both have your own goals here,” he started, once more garnering the attention of both Servants once more. “However, I think we could work toward some mutual goals.”

He turned to Elizabeth. “You say you’re becoming an idol, right?” he asked. “Well, idols need fame, after all, and need to hit it big. Right now, with everyone afraid of the fake saint, they won’t be coming out to see your shows anytime soon. But imagine what would happen if you helped defeat the fake saint who’s oppressing them. You’d be hailed as a hero and worshipped. They’d be lining up to see you, with lines stretching for miles to see the one who took down the false saint! I can’t see any better debut for an idol than that.” Elizabeth’s scowl dwindled to a contemplative frown as she pondered Ren’s words.

“And as for your Anchin-sama,” he called out. “Searching for information while there are wyverns and Servants pillaging and making a mess of the countryside isn’t conducive to any info gathering. Not to mention if your Anchin-sama has hidden to keep himself safe, that’ll make things even harder for you. Once everything is resolved, everyone will be coming out of hiding, and worst case, it’ll at least give you a lot more people to ask for your Anchin-sama.”

“True,” Kiyohime mused. “Anchin-sama is brave but not stupid. He would be taking shelter from the wyverns and Servants running around.”

A moment later, the two girls nodded. “Very well, we see your reasoning,” Kiyohime said. “We shall join your group as allies until the false saint is defeated, and part ways after that. Is that reasonable?”

Ren smiled. “I don’t ask for anything more than that,” he replied earnestly.

Elizabeth grinned as she puffed her petite body out. “You know how to talk a good offer, puppy!” she said. “The debut of Elizabeth Bathory is the saving of France from wyverns and dragons and fake saints! Can’t get any bigger than that! Look out world, a new idol is coming down to shine!” Then her smile froze and she looked at Ren with a serious expression. “On one condition though!”

The Master knew it had been going too easy. But he smiled nevertheless. “And what would that be?” he asked cordially.

“There’s a Servant that the false saint summoned,” she explained. “Tall, white hair, mask, throws around iron maidens everywhere, and looks like an old hag. Have you seen her?” 

That berserk Assassin the doppelganger had? She was rather unforgettable. Ren nodded.

Elizabeth nodded. “Good,” she stated. “She’s my target. She needs to die and it’ll be by my spear, got it?”

Well, that was a surprising condition. Still, she was one of the Servants between them and the doppelganger Servant. There shouldn’t be any problems with that. Ren smiled and nodded. “You got yourself a deal, then, Elizabeth.”

The idol-to-be nodded with a grin. “Good! You better treat me right then!” she declared.

“I’m just glad you see things my way,” Ren replied. He raised his fingers and snapped. Morgana and Jeanne came out of some buildings to their right side while Siegfried stepped out from the left. Marie and Mozart came out from a slightly further distance away as Archer jumped off a nearby roof he had been perched on and landed softly on the ground. 

Both girl’s eyes widened as they looked back towards Ren. “Were we surrounded this whole time?” Kiyohime asked incredulously. Her eyes narrowed as she snapped her fan closed. “You seem to be a more dangerous man than you appear, Master of Chaldea,” she murmured. 

Ren simply shrugged. “Had to make sure things went accordingly. After all, I’ve no doubt you two are as deadly as you are lovely.” 

Elizabeth and Kiyohime immediately blushed and turned away. “Y-y-y-you should know flattery won’t w-w-work on us, p-puppy!” she stammered. 

“Y-you should be careful, Master of Chaldea,” Kiyohime added, trying to regain her composure. “A philanderer like you may end up being scorched by a woman’s scorn if you are not careful.”

He had to laugh. Yeah, he certainly dodged one or two bullets on that front back in Tokyo. “Duly noted and thanks for the warning,” he replied easily. 

Mash sighed as her shield disappeared from her hands, turned to Ren and beamed. “Excellent negotiations, senpai!” she chirped. “Have you had a lot of experience in diplomacy and mediation?”

Images of personas held by him and his friends at gunpoint flashed in his eyes momentarily. Haranguing them for support, for money, or items as necessary. And that of a larger, slightly disheveled man in a suit, a sash around him as he made his speeches on a box outside the subway. His lessons with Yoshida in speechcraft. The politician had been the one man who didn’t need the Phantom Thieves’ intervention. He navigated the political battlefield by himself, defeated his own enemies and even gained allies from them. Last he heard, he had been elected to the Diet thanks to his own efforts. 

His fountain pen was still sitting on his desk at home. Shame he didn’t bring it.

Smiling in reminiscence, he looked back at Mash. “Experience, and I had a great teacher,” he explained before walking off to meet the group.

Mash could only stare at the back of her senpai, biting her lip. Every step of the way, Ren seemed to reveal more and more facets of himself. She already made the promise to keep up, but the gap seemed hard to surmount. Once this singularity was done, she needed to put more effort into her studies and training. She may not stand equal to him, but she would improve so she could stand by him one day. She just hoped the gap didn’t widen even further. 

With that, she joined the others. They had two more Servants on their side. Now they needed to find a saint.

Chapter Text

Things had gone well overall. The two Servants who joined them – who had introduced themselves as Lancer Elizabeth Bathory and Berserker Kiyohime – affirmed they weren’t saints, but the latter had encountered one heading west. Checking the map, they found the port town of Bordeaux lay in that direction. They didn’t have any better leads at any rate, so that would be their destination. With any luck, they would encounter the saint there and begin preparations.

Regaining momentum, however, was difficult. Elizabeth and Kiyohime were rather temperamental overall. More than once, Mash or Saber had to step in to break up their squabbles, and as soon as they got close to Siegfried, they immediately started panicking about the famed dragonslayer. It took a great amount of diplomacy from both Ren and Saber to get them to calm down.

Turns out having Rank B in Charisma helped considerably in smoothing things over.

There was also the fact that Ren needed to rest. The march to Thiers had depleted more of his stamina than he expected. And even though Ren insisted once again he was fine, Morgana was the first and most adamant in insisting Ren took a break. Archer agreed, pointing out that magic circuit overuse wasn’t something that could simply be shrugged off. And so Ren sat at one of the benches that was still whole, while the other Servants either milled about or kept watch.

However, as he observed everyone, Ren could quickly notice certain details that Kiyohime and Elizabeth were missing, the latter on account of her ego and the former on account of her madness. The other Servants seemed a bit more tense around them. Marie was perhaps the only one who openly talked with them but even then, the cowardly Mozart was always nearby, keeping an eye out. Ren racked his brain until he remembered their legends:

Elizabeth Bathory, an infamous serial killer countess who drained young maidens’ blood and bathed in it as a method of preserving her beauty, and Kiyohime, the dragon who had fallen in love with a young monk, incinerated him in a bell when he didn’t see her again, and drowned herself in the bottom of a river. It just cemented in Ren’s mind that the Throne of Heroes didn’t encapsulate just ‘heroes’. It seemed to have a wide variety of characters there.

He frowned as he came to this realization. There were certain lines that as a Phantom Thief, he didn’t and couldn’t cross. And there were certain kinds of people that they would go for and change their hearts. He checked briefly with the Metaverse app, and sure enough, both of them had Palaces. Had things been different, if he had his friends with him, they were precisely the type that they would change the hearts of. A serial killer and an obsessed dragon… it certainly put people like Okumura and Shido in a different context.

Ren closed his eyes as he took some breaths to steady himself. He quietly put his phone to sleep before slipping it back into his pocket. Dwelling on this wasn’t healthy. He stood by what he said: They needed allies and it may be convenience that draws them for now, but they could still help.

Still, he had to wonder. Akechi became a murderer because of his harsh life and because of Shido. He had even admitted that if they had met earlier, they could’ve been rivals, or even actual friends. Elizabeth seemed to show no inclination towards wanting blood, instead working towards being an idol. Odd but definitely far more benign in comparison. As for Kiyohime, she seemed to be polite enough, her obsession with Anchin-sama notwithstanding. If their tales turned out different, if they were raised to be better people, then how would things have changed…?

He smiled bitterly to himself. If that was the case, then they probably wouldn’t have their legends and wouldn’t be here in the first place. It was something he had to get used to.

“How are you holding up, Joker?”

Ren glanced over to see Morgana walking up to him. Hopping up onto the bench and sitting down beside him, he followed Ren’s gaze. “They sure are… colorful characters, I can say that much,” Morgana commented.

“That’s one way to put it,” Ren murmured, scoffing. He was silent for a moment, pondering. “Hey, Morgana?”

“What’s up?”

“Do you think we’re doing the right thing here?” he asked slowly. “I don’t mind Archer or Saber or even Lancer and Rider. There were circumstances of their times and not everyone’s perfect.” He nodded to the two girls – Elizabeth was very unsuccessfully trying to convince Mozart to be her music coach while Kiyohime was asking if Archer was her Anchin-sama (which he fervently denied). “But those two. They have Palaces, and if we saw them back in Japan, we’d be trying to change their hearts without a doubt. Just…” He shook his head. “No, never mind, it’s stupid,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

Morgana took a moment to think and in turn sighed. “I know how you feel, Ren,” Morgana agreed glumly. “If it were anything like usual, we’d be taking them down and getting them to confess their crimes. But things aren’t really all that usual right now.” He gestured with a paw at their surroundings. “I mean, we’re here in medieval France surrounded by heroes, villains, and whatever’s in between in myths and legends, trying to save – or recover – all of humanity. I don’t think we can afford to be picky.”

He sat back, looking up at the mostly clear sky. “Though I’ll agree with you, it’s definitely not a great option – it’s just the only option,” he murmured. “Backs to the wall, you do whatever you can to win or just live, even if you gotta work with people you hate.” Morgana gave a wry grin. “I mean, just look at me and Ryuji.”

That caused Ren to burst out laughing. Morgana started laughing as well. “I-I don’t think it-it’s quite the same, Mona,” he replied between chuckles.

“Oh, s-says you, Joker!” his best friend exclaimed, still laughing. “Th-that ape wouldn’t know c-common sense if it l-landed on his h-head! H-he can’t even appreciate a g-good coffee!”

The two bantered back and forth, poking fun at their mutual teammate and friend, occasionally drawing glances from the other Servants, particularly Mash. Eventually, their laughter dwindled into small giggles and chuckles, smiles still etched on their faces. “Good, I got you to laugh,” Morgana commented with relief.

Ren glanced over in askance. “It’s been a tough week for us, overall,” Morgana admitted. “With… well, everything going on, I haven’t really seen you smile. Not genuinely, anyway. And, I haven’t been feeling exactly great myself either. It’s just been the two of us, after all.” He wrung his paws as he looked down on the ground. “We’re fighting to get them back and I know we will. We have you, our amazing leader, and of course me, but even so, things are so different now.”

The two sat in silence for a bit, pondering his words. Then Morgana stood up, paws on his hips. “Still, that doesn’t mean we can give up, right?” he exclaimed. “After all we’ve been through, all we’ve fought, it’d be a shame if we let our legends end here!” He grinned broadly. “And who knows, maybe in the end, we’ll be joining the ranks of all these heroes! What other fitting ending would there be for us, huh?”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves laughed. “As long as the ending’s a good one,” he pointed out. “Imagine if we died by, say, an eagle dropping a tortoise on my head. At the very least, it’d be a memorable way to go!”

Morgana gaped at Ren. “Wait, did that actually happen?” he asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Ren replied, his grin spreading. “It was an ancient Greek tale. A guy had an oracle tell him his death came from above while he was indoors. He ended up staying paranoid and staying outdoors as much as he could. Then one day, an eagle carrying a tortoise mistook his bald head as a rock and dropped the tortoise. Killed him on the spot.”

The catlike being stared at Ren with his mouth hanging open, then glared at his friend. “You completely made that up!” he growled. “And he didn’t even die indoors like the oracle said! He was outdoors! How else would an eagle see his head?!”

Ren grinned as he leaned back against the wall behind him. “Well, it IS a Greek myth,” he pointed out as he reached over to pet Morgana’s head. “Gotta take these things with a grain of salt, Morgana.”

Morgana growled, trying to suppress his purrs as he was being petted. “Ugh, well, you’re definitely feeling better now, I can tell,” he muttered. Still, a tiny bit of the stress from the last couple days had faded away. Not nearly enough to deal with everything, but it was better than nothing.

----------

After an hour or so, they were back on the march. Elizabeth was loud and proud up front, with Kiyohime keeping a good distance away from everyone else. Other than that, everyone resumed the positions they had earlier, surrounding the Masters in a protective formation. The hours passed by swiftly and soon, the sun was setting as they reached the town of Bordeaux.

Archer narrowed his eyes as he looked ahead. “There’s people there,” he noted. “Refugees, seemingly. I don’t see any clear sign of a saint though.”

“Well, we better send someone to ask for information, then,” Morgana replied.

Elizabeth grinned. “Leave it to me, kitty!” she declared. “A dazzling idol like me will leave them speechless, and they’ll spill all their latest gossip to me in no time!”

Morgana bristled but before he could retort, Ren raised a hand. “Probably not a good idea, Elizabeth,” he said. “With your horns and tail, people might get the wrong impression of you. And if there’s one thing I know about idols, it’s that a bad reputation is almost impossible to shake off.”

The Lancer blinked in surprise before glancing up at her horns and down at her tail. She deflated. “W-well, I can always make up for it with my charisma, puppy!” she snapped, though she sounded a bit less confident than just a moment ago.

Ren smiled placatingly. “I’ve no doubt about that, but it’s better not to take any chances,” he replied. “Same with you, Kiyohime. I don’t think they would trust foreigners easily either. It’s probably best to wait here just in case.”

“And what if Anchin-sama is down there?” she asked, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I will not have anyone interfere with my search for him, even if it means forsaking our alliance.”

The Master shrugged. “If the townspeople figure out your Anchin-sama is associated with you, do you think he’d be any safer?” Kiyohime opened her mouth to reply, but Ren raised a hand. “And even if you did protect him, where could you go and shelter him? The town is his best bet, and once we’re done here, you can go in at your leisure and search for him. It’ll be safer for him overall.”

Kiyohime glared at Ren above her fan, then closed her eyes. “You make a valid point, Ren Amamiya,” she admitted. “Very well. Out of the possible safety of Anchin-sama, I shall withhold myself from entering.” Ren smiled gratefully in return.

“So, it falls to me once more, then?” Marie chirped, stepping forward. “Not to worry! I shall collect information and be back forthwith! Au revoir!” With that, she merrily walked towards the town of Bordeaux. Archer kept an eye on her and the town in case any of them needed to interfere. Meanwhile, Ren sat down, taking a deep breath as he relaxed against a tree. Morgana sat beside him with Mash taking his other side.

Ren glanced over at Bordeaux, then took out his phone and took a picture of the town with the setting sun. Both Mash and Morgana glanced over at the shot. “Heh, that’s postcard quality, Joker,” Morgana complimented.

“Yes, it’s very nicely done,” Mash agreed with a bright smile.

"Sometimes, you gotta appreciate the little things,” he replied. He glanced over to Mash. “Wanna see some pics of Japan?”

Mash blinked in surprise, then nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes please, senpai!” Ren grinned as he opened the gallery.

And almost immediately regretted it.

He had taken countless pictures while he had been in Tokyo. Of small things, of landmarks, maybe just a shot he found nice. But the large majority of pictures were those of his friends and confidants. They were all smiling, doing their best, living their life how they wished. And every single one of them was gone. He wanted to close the gallery, but Mash was beside him, her eyes practically gleaming at this little window to the outside world. As much as he grieved, he couldn’t disappoint her.

However, one friend noticed his hesitation. Morgana laid a paw on Ren’s lap. Glancing over, their eyes met. Morgana nodded in simple solidarity. Right. They both had lost everything. But regardless, they would stick by each other.

Deciding to shelve his grief for now, he scrolled through some pictures. He stopped at one. “Here’s me, doing the Big Bang Burger challenge,” he explained as he opened it up.

Mash’s eyes widened. “How on – that is a massive burger, senpai,” she gasped. Indeed, Ren was grasping a burger that was about the size of a large dinner plate, with the thickness of his forearm. Ren’s expression was that of visible dread as he stared at the massive thing before him.

Ren chuckled. “Oh, this is nothing,” he reassured her. “That’s just the Comet Burger. The Big Bang Burger challenge is three different burgers. You have to complete each one – thankfully on different days – and they’re all bigger than the last.” He scrolled to another picture. Here, Ren was with a girl with red hair, tied up in a ponytail. In front of each of them was a burger that reached up to Ren’s face, sitting down.

In short, it was a towering monster of a burger that even gods would tremble at. Both Ren and the girl were looking at the burger with equal amounts of awe and dread.

Mash felt a stab through her chest at seeing the girl, though she wasn’t sure why. “Who’s that girl, senpai?” she asked, looking at her curiously.

“That’s Sumire,” he explained. Though his heart hurt more when talking about her, he couldn’t help but smile in reminiscence. “She’s my kouhai. Calls me senpai all the time. You kind of remind me of her in that way to be honest.” Mash looked over in surprise, though Ren hadn’t noticed. “She was a gymnast. She had some confidence issues but she grew out of them and became something really special. I think she could even make it to the Olympics with the way she was going.”

“She’s very pretty,” Mash murmured.

Ren chuckled. “She is,” he agreed. “She got hit on a lot – I once had to help fend off a creep during a school trip. But she’s made of some stern stuff underneath once you get to know her. The only thing greater than her will was her appetite." He flicked to the next image. The plates were empty with only crumbs remaining. Ren was sprawled on the table, the only sign of his victory a thumbs up. Beside him, however, Sumire was smiling cheerfully at the camera, holding up the medal she won from the challenge. “She burns a lot of calories via exercise,” he explained.

Mash nodded distractedly. “Did… did you like her, senpai?” she asked quietly. She dreaded the answer but wanted to hear it regardless.

The Master blinked in surprise at her question, hesitated, then shook his head. “She confessed to me at one point, but I turned her down,” he replied. He looked over at the picture and smiled fondly. “She had big dreams and big goals. And I just wasn’t ready to commit to a relationship. I would’ve tied her down a bit too much. She thanked me anyway for answering her.”

The stabbing pain she felt was immediately soothed by relief when she heard Ren’s answer, which shocked her considerably. She remembered what Mozart had called her: A maiden in love. Was that perhaps more true than she expected? Maybe Roman or Da Vinci would know.

Her contemplation was interrupted as Marie came walking back up, but with someone else in tow. It was a taller man, with fair features and flowing brown hair. He was clad in bronze armor, with a dragon head pauldron on his right shoulder. He wore a cloak that covered his other shoulder – white with the emblem of a red cross. He cut a noble figure as he strode towards the group. Ren stowed his phone away as the three immediately stood up, walking towards the approaching Servants. As they approached, the knight’s eyes widened as his eyes fell upon Jeanne, his hand reaching for the sword on his waist, before lowering it a second later.

“Bonjour, my friends!” Marie called out merrily, waving. “This charming town here is currently where refugees are staying for now. And who should I find but this gentleman, the saint we are looking for! Might I introduce you to Saint Georgios, the famed dragonslayer?”

The knight – Saint Georgios – stepped forward and bowed. “A pleasure to meet you all,” he replied, smiling. “As Miss Marie- “

“I thought I told you to just call me Marie,” said Servant pouted.

“Marie, my apologies,” Georgios amended himself. “As Marie told you, I am Georgios, a Rider class Servant.” He glanced over to Jeanne and nodded deeply in her direction. “When I first saw you, I suspected that the Dragon Witch herself had come and it was a trap,” he admitted easily. “Do forgive my suspicions of you.”

Jeanne smiled kindly in return. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied. “Your vigilance is likely how the refugees have stayed safe thus far. Thank you for protecting my people.”

“The honor is mine, Lady Jeanne,” he replied, causing the girl to stutter. He looked over to Kiyohime. “I hear that you are seeking a man called ‘Anchin-sama’, miss?” Georgios asked.

Kiyohime’s eyes widened, then nodded. “Yes. Have you seen him?”

Georgios shook his head. “I’ve been accounting for any and all refugees who have come to Bordeaux, but I have no recollection of an ‘Anchin-sama’ or anyone who goes by a similar name,” he replied. “My apologies.”

The dragon girl’s eyes narrowed for a second before nodding. “Very well, I can see you speak no lies,” Kiyohime acceded. “As befitting a saint. I shall resume my search for Anchin-sama after matters have been resolved here.”

The dragonslaying saint nodded. He did a double take when he saw Morgana. “What… manner of creature are you?” he asked, nonplussed.

Morgana scowled. “Well, that’s rude!” he snapped. “You don’t just ask someone what they are! And for that matter, I’m a cat! The finest cat you’ll ever meet! And my name is Morgana!”

George just blinked several times, then bowed slightly. “My apologies,” he replied. “Your appearance caught me by surprise. I should’ve maintained my decorum.” Standing back up, he looked over at the group. “Now, I believe you wish to march on Orleans,” he stated. “There should be much to discuss. Come, I shall see to your stay tonight and we may make plans as necessary.”

“Might have to put a hold on that,” Archer called out, summoning his bow. “We’ve got incoming. It’s Fafnir. And… no one else. No Servants, wyverns, or anything. Not even the doppelganger. Just Fafnir.”

That news caught Ren off guard. Only the dragon? Was this some sort of trap? Well, they still had to deal with the fact that the dragon was on his way here. “Marie, Mozart, Saber!” he barked. “Get to the town and secure the townspeople! Keep an eye out for anyone else approaching!” The three Servants nodded and without another word immediately darted toward the town.

He turned to the others. “Archer, provide cover and watch for ambushes!” he ordered, then the sound of a massive pair of wings beating the air started to become audible. He scowled. “We need to get its attention and get it away from the town. Archer, hate to ask you this again, but can you-“

Before Ren could finish that sentence, Siegfried rushed forward, summoning his legendary sword. Standing on top of a small hill a distance away, he could see the gigantic shape of the dragon blotting out the evening sky. “FAFNIR!” he roared. His powerful voice carried through the air, causing the dragon to stop where it was and roar in defiance. “It’s been a long time, my old foe,” he called out. “Where I am summoned, you always follow. Come, face me once more, Fafnir! And I shall slay you like I have done so before!”

Ren could only gape as Siegfried immediately grabbed the dragon’s attention – and more importantly, away from the town – and only chuckled. It seems some heroes indeed lived up to their hype after all. He quickly looked over at the remaining Servants: Georgios, Jeanne, Elizabeth, Kiyohime, Archer, and of course, Mash.

“Archer, like I said, provide cover and watch for ambushes,” he said. “Georgios, you’re also a dragonslayer, right? Head up with Siegfried and take the front. Mona, Jeanne, Kiyohime, take the left flank. Mash, Elizabeth, with me – we’re heading to the right. It’s showtime!”

Jeanne, Mash, Archer, and Georgios immediately nodded with the latter two darting off to their positions. Ren, Mash, and Jeanne also took off towards their own. “Come on, you two!” Morgana yelled at the two girls. Elizabeth and Kiyohime floundered for a second before the former caught up with Ren and Mash while the latter followed Morgana. As they moved, the dragon roared and descended, landing hard on the ground as his wings threw up a massive dust cloud and buffeted the air. Ren raised an arm to block off the wind and dust from his face as he continued to run.

The dragon seemed to have only eyes for Siegfried, allowing everyone to move into their positions easily. Roaring, it slammed a claw down at him, an attack the dragonslayer nonchalantly predicted and moved aside. Bringing up Balmung, he made two swift slashes at the claw, the blade slicing cleanly through its scales and digging into flesh and sinew, causing the dragon to roar in pain and rage. As it raised its claw again to sweep, Georgios charged in, slashing at its other foot. His longsword cut deep and put him out of the claw’s reach, while Siegfried leaped backward to dodge it.

On Fafnir’s left flank, Mash moved in front of Ren and Elizabeth as its great tail flicked over, smashing against her shield. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, puppy!” Elizabeth called out, scowling at the dragon.

Ren grinned. “So do I,” he replied cheekily. “Hit him in the flanks – the belly should be softer!” He switched his personas and tore off his metaphorical mask once more as Elizabeth rushed in with her spear.

“Pixie!”

With a flash of blue flame, the diminutive blue fairy appeared beside him. He waited until Elizabeth lunged forward with her spear, piercing Fafnir’s hide. As she backed off, Pixie pointed at the stab wound. Bolts of lightning arched and lanced through the wound, giving off the smell of burning meat. Elizabeth looked back and her eyes widened at seeing the little fairy beside Ren. Distracted as she was, she didn’t see Fafnir spin around shrieking with pain and rage and smack her aside with a claw, sending her flying a considerable distance.

“Elizabeth!” Ren called out. With a mental command, Pixie pointed at the fallen Lancer. A green light surrounded her as she got up. Elizabeth quickly noted that despite just getting swatted aside by a great dragon, her wounds were rapidly healing. Her eyes went wide as saucers as she looked at Ren. “What kind of magecraft is that?!” she demanded.

“Less talking, more fighting!” Morgana yelled from the other side of the dragon. All three of them ducked as Fafnir swung around, his tail flying over their heads. As Siegfried and Georgios charged back in to gain the dragon’s attention once more, Morgana, Jeanne, and Kiyohime were facing the left flank of Fafnir. They could see the charred area where Ren had used lightning.

“Zorro!”

The musketeer Persona appeared once more in a flash of blue flame. Tracing a pattern with his rapier, three multicolored pillars of light flashed around Jeanne. Jeanne blinked as she felt her body lighten, with a faint aura around her own body. “My thanks, Morgana!” she cried gratefully as she charged in. Moving a good deal faster than she had before, she roared as she stabbed into the wound the others had made, her flag sinking deeper into it.

Fafnir roared in pain, but before he could turn around again, Siegfried sank his sword into his belly while Georgios hacked away at its claw, once more drawing the dragon’s attention.

Jeanne pulled out her flag and moved away as the dragon turned once more, bleeding profusely from the spot. Fafnir’s mouth parted as infernal power gathered from within, when an explosion struck the side of its jaw, causing it to misfire a stream of flames that torched the countryside and lit some distant trees on fire. That brief instant of dragonfire was enough for Ren and Morgana to cover their faces from the sheer heat it emanated.

Spreading its wings, Fafnir flapped them, buffeting everyone with a near-hurricane gust as it took off, narrowly missing Georgios’s head with one of its claws as it passed. Flying in a loop, its maw opened once more with flame. Before it could do anything, more explosions struck its flank, causing it to roar in anger at the direction it came from. Kiyohime fired a flurry of fireballs which were joined by a gust of wind from Zorro, causing them to rocket and splash against Fafnir’s throat and head. However, the dragon was still set on its trajectory as Fafnir opened its mouth wider…

“Succubus!”

A nubile, blonde young woman with devil wings and tail appeared now, dressed in a backless black leotard, long black gloves, and high-heeled boots. Blowing a kiss towards the rapidly approaching dragon, dark energy wrapped around the Fafnir. Its eyes suddenly wavered and closed as the flames faded from its mouth.

That, however, didn’t change the fact that it was on a direct course for a crash landing straight for them.

Eyes widening, all the Servants quickly began running out of the way, Siegfried grabbing Morgana’s head while Mash picked up Ren. They only just managed to clear as Fafnir smashed right into the ground, his body carving and dragging a large furrow into the meadow, bulldozing up dirt, grass, and trees. Thankfully it was away from Bordeaux, though the sound and shock of the impact carried far through the air and ground.

“Huh, didn’t think that’d work,” Ren commented, his grin only belied by the shaking in his limbs from sheer panic and adrenaline. “You can put me down now, Mash.”

Mash blinked, then blushed. In her rush to get Ren away, she had picked him up in a princess carry as part of her trained reflexes. She hurriedly but gently put him down. “Right, of course, senpai,” she stated. Trying to change the topic, she looked over to the dragon. “Um… what did you do?”

Ren glanced at her, then turned with a smirk back at Fafnir. “I put him to sleep,” he explained simply. “Succubus is handy for things like that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if her skills would work on something like a dragon or Servant, but it seemed to have done the job here.” Sure enough, despite the rough landing, the dragon remained sprawled in its self-made trench, its thunderous snores vibrating through the air. “Still, it’s not going to work for long and will wake up as soon as we attack it, so we better hit it with something hard.”

The two dragonslayers stepped forward. “Please, leave it to us, Master,” Siegfried offered as he raised his blade, Georgios doing the same. “I apologize you needed to trouble yourself thus far, but you have given us a grand opportunity to finish the dragon once and for all.”

Saint Georgios nodded. “Indeed,” he agreed. “Our Noble Phantasms will suffice to slay the beast. I require to be at close range to utilize mine. What of yours?”

Siegfried considered with a frown. “It takes the form of a massive blast of light,” he replied. “You would be in its blast radius and I am uncertain I will be able to down Fafnir in one strike.”

The dragonslaying saint nodded. “Have no fear, then – I shall go first,” he offered. “I will charge in with my steed to strike and retreat. After that, you should have the window to annihilate the dragon as you see fit.”

Nodding, Siegfried helped up Balmung. “I thank you for your bravery, Georgios,” he replied gratefully. “In that case, let us be rid of this wyrm once and for all. O sword, let thee be filled.” His prana began spiking as he twisted the handle. The gem in the handle gleamed before a gigantic beam of blue light erupted from the blade of his sword. Ren and Morgana had to look away from the dazzling light as the air around them began blowing from the sheer power.

Georgios, undeterred, charged forward. “Bayard!” he called out. Out of nowhere, a white steed draped in dark armor and heraldry raced forward. Jumping up, Georgios mounted his horse as he held his sword at the ready.

“Thou dragon of sin, fall before my righteousness!” George intoned. As they approached Fafnir, Georgios swung his sword across, cleaving a long horizontal cut that glowed brightly in the evening darkness. Fafnir snapped awake with a roar, but Georgios was not done. Backflipping off Baynard, he swung his sword down as he descended, making a similar vertical cut. As he thrust into the intersection of the two cuts, his blade radiated power as it sank deep into Fafnir. The dragonslayer saint roared the name of his Noble Phantasm.

“Ascalon!”

Bayard wheeled around and Georgios quickly mounted up as Fafnir collapsed in pain from his attack. It could only look up at the beam of light from its hated archenemy, recognizing its power. It roared in defiance, but it was too weak, too wounded, and more importantly, too late.

“Now fall – Balmung!”

The beam of light descended on the dragon, its roars turning to shrieks as the Noble Phantasm’s power eradicated its very existence. Its body dissolved under the might of Balmung, weakened by Georgios’s Ascalon. Before long, the only thing that remained was the burned path of Balmung’s power, the carved furrow from Fafnir’s crash, and Fafnir’s head on the grass, slowly fading away.

Everyone took a breath to process what happened before the communicator blinked once more. Ren picked up and blinked with surprise to see it was Da Vinci as opposed to Roman. “Ren! Grab Fafnir’s fangs before they disappear!” she ordered, her eyes a bit frenzied.

Ren blinked with surprise, then ran forward before he could stop himself. Morgana and Mash ran alongside him, and they were soon at Fafnir’s head. Ren grabbed the fang and pulled as hard as he could – to no avail. Mash moved beside him, put her hands on the fang as well and pulled. With a heave and a roar, the fang popped out of Fafnir’s mouth. It was a massive thing, easily reaching up to Ren’s thigh when embedded on the ground.

The Master of Chaldea had to grin. “Great job, guys,” he said to Mash and Morgana before turning towards the Servants, who had caught up. “All of you.”

The great dragon Fafnir was dead. Now they had a straight shot to Orleans.

Chapter Text

Fafnir’s head faded more slowly than expected so they managed to extract a few more fangs before it faded completely. Setting up the shield, they transferred the fangs over to Da Vinci, while Chaldea in turn resupplied them. Everyone in the vicinity did their level best to avoid noticing just how giddy the Caster was being – especially Romani who was right beside her as she cooed over the new materials. But still, Ren and Morgana trusted Da Vinci enough to have something decent in mind for those fangs. Probably.  

With that, they made their way back to Bordeaux, where Saber was at the front to greet them, her sword in hand. Her, Marie, and Mozart had shepherded the townspeople and refugees into the various buildings before patrolling and keeping an eye out for any other invaders. Surprisingly enough, there was none. Archer had reported he didn’t see any other signs of movement either, not even a spy. Fafnir had truly come alone.

“But that makes no sense,” Morgana mulled as he stared at the map. The group had set themselves up in a former noble’s house on the second floor and were in the study. The building itself was relatively unharmed, making it a good shelter overall. The first floor was occupied by refugees and the injured. There was some panic when everyone saw Jeanne but settled down with Georgios’s reassurances. “Why would Fafnir have been sent here by himself without any backup or plan? Even if it was the doppelganger, she would’ve sent swarms of wyverns and Servants with him.”

“It’s possible that she didn’t send Fafnir at all,” Archer pointed out, frowning. “So far, we haven’t seen any activity from the doppelganger. Even wyvern sightings have been sparse to none. It’s possible she may have been consolidating her strength at Orleans and Fafnir simply got impatient.”

“I can agree with that,” Siegfried replied. “Fafnir was never known for his patience. Most likely with my presence he decided to make a move, the doppelganger’s orders or no.”

“There has been less wyvern and monster sightings as of late, much to the relief of the refugees,” Georgios added. “However, I feared it was simply the calm before the storm.” He pointed to Orleans, a couple miles to the northeast from Bordeaux. “With Orleans here, it would be trivial of her to amass her forces and send them anywhere she wished. What amazes me is that she hadn’t done so before. Something must have seriously unnerved her for her to reconsider her original rampage.”

At those words, Morgana, Archer, Saber, Jeanne, Marie, Mozart, and Mash all slowly turned towards Ren. The others followed their gazes and also turned toward the Master, who had been sitting on a couch, resting his head against the back. He opened one eye and waved. “My fault, sorry about that,” he admitted ruefully.

Siegfried, Georgios, Elizabeth, and Kiyohime (the former had been lying down on another couch kicking her feet and the latter was sitting on the furthest side away from her) all stared at Ren still. Kiyohime narrowed her eyes beneath her fan. “As I stated before, Master of Chaldea, you seem to be far more dangerous than you appear,” she murmured.

Ren just chuckled as the ones who had been with him the longest sighed in deep exasperation. “Unfortunately, there is not much we can do about it at this point,” Jeanne said, looking back at the map. “But it is thanks to His grace and Ren that more people have been spared as a result. We’ve accumulated as many allies as we can muster at this point. It’s time to march on Orleans.”

“Indeed, though it would be best if we had a plan of attack before we do,” Saber mused. “The area around Orleans is flat all around, meaning we could approach from any angle. Conversely, however, it means we have no cover should the doppelganger decide to send her wyverns out. Numbers are not something we have on our side, nor is power. I do not doubt your strength.” She looked pointedly towards the two dragonslayers. “However, if Orleans truly is crawling with wyverns and Servants, it may not be enough.”

The mood was dampened as everyone mulled over the prospect. They had accumulated a good corps of Servants, but even then they were facing an enemy with perhaps unlimited resources. Even if they threw everything at the doppelganger, there was the all-too-likely possibility that they would exhaust themselves and be easy pickings in turn, depending on how quickly she could recover. Not to mention, at minimum she still had three Servants at her call: Sanson, Carmilla, and D’Eon, and possibly summoned more since then.

The silence was broken as Marie clapped her hands together. “Come now, we’ve all had a long day,” she commented with a gentle smile. “Perhaps a good night’s rest is what is need. We can continue to discuss like generals in the morning, non ? Even in war, there is always a time for peace, after all.”

Jeanne blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Yes, you speak truly, Marie,” she acceded, stepping away from the table. “It is perhaps better we rested and recovered. The sun has only just set, however. I shall see to the refugees and give what aid and succor I can. They have experienced considerable tragedy by my doppelganger’s hands, and I wish to relieve them.”

“I shall join you, then,” Georgios added, stepping forward. “A few of the refugees may need a bit more reassurance that you are not the Dragon Witch, and two saints working in tandem should be more beneficial than just one.”

Chuckling a bit, Jeanne nodded gratefully to Georgios. “A fair argument,” she acknowledged. With that, the two stepped out of the room and went downstairs.

“If we’re dismissed for the evening, then I shall keep watch,” Archer casually stated. “It’d be best we weren’t ambushed in case we misread the situation.” Turning on his heel, he strode out as well.

Ren gave a weak chuckle. “Well, guess we should all take some R and R, then,” he murmured as he stood up from the couch. “I’m gonna head out for a walk. It’s a nice night for it anyway. I’ll catch you guys later.” He strode out as well, descending down the stairs. He glanced over to see Jeanne kneeling beside one of the refugees – an older woman – gently grasping her hand and their heads bowed in prayer. He didn’t see Georgios but was sure he heard his voice further down the house.

As he stepped out, he saw a few torches were being lit for illumination as villagers started to head home for the night. He smiled as he walked.

A nice night indeed.

—-------

A rustic town like this, with a serene feel to it and a picturesque view. A quiet river ran through the town, with acres of farmland stretching on and on. It felt like a place one could get away from the troubles of the world, live a more simply life overall compared to the hustle and bustle of a city. A perfect getaway for those who wished to lived simpler lives in simpler days.

So why the hell is an idol like her in such a ramshackle, miserable little hole?!

Elizabeth tromped through the towns in a foul mood. She had thought to set up a concert here, get word of her out where people had gathered the most, but she had been shooed out by the girl Saber and the Saints for suggesting it. Apparently they needed ‘peace and quiet’? What nonsense. They haven’t even heard her sing! One song would be all that was needed to change their minds, but they no, they turned her out like some unscrupulous squirrel! Oh, she was fuming!

She thought to soothe her nerves by heading into town and setting up a concert there, but no. Everyone immediately bolted indoors at the sight of her! Or rather, they were doing so anyway but only did so faster when they saw her! Her tail lashed about angrily as she stomped through the dirt streets. That damn puppy had been making such a big deal about using her savior credentials here to make a big debut as an idol, but so far, nothing! Didn’t they see her fighting against that ginormous dragon?! They should be heaping adulation and praise for her heroism!

As she moved through the town, a figure caught her eye. It was that Master from Chaldea – the human one – over at a small dock nearby. As she marched to him to give him a piece of her mind, she noticed that he was… fishing? She had to wonder where he found the fishing rod. It was probably lying nearby. Well, no matter. What did she care?

“Hey, puppy!” she demanded. Without turning around, the Master held up a hand to silence her. She froze, not out of respect for his wishes but at the sheer nerve and audacity to tell her to be quiet. Before she could shout another word, however, the fishing rod began bending forward as something tugged at the line. He began pulling at the rod this way and that, drawing at Elizabeth’s curiosity as he played and fought with the fish.

With a massive heave, he pulled up the fish, still wriggling on the hook. The puppy looked it over, sighed, unhooked the fish, and released it back into the water.

Elizabeth blinked with surprise. “Wha – all that effort and you just let it go?” she asked, incredulous.

Ren shrugged. “It was too small,” he replied simply. “Gotta let them go so they can grow bigger and reproduce. Besides, pretty sure I can snag something else anyway.” As he walked, he grabbed another worm from a small mound of dirt he had nearby. Hooking the worm, he cast the line back out.

The Lancer walked up beside the Master of Chaldea and looked over the river. It was rather idyllic. The waters were green and glinting as the last bit of sunlight shone beyond the horizon. There was some illumination from the torches behind them from the houses but otherwise, it was quickly getting dark. It was also quiet all around. Everyone was more or less indoors and there wasn’t even the sound of a wyvern roar. Only the sound of crickets broke the still evening air.

Elizabeth looked over at Ren. He was staring at where the line had landed in the water, but his face was impassive. Not relaxed or blank. It was the face of someone who had a lot to think about and never really seemed to stop. If she left right now, she doubted he would react. And in the setting sun, the orange light brought his sharper features to bear, contrasting with the shadows, making him look remarkably handsome-

She immediately shook her head and smacked her own cheeks, drawing Ren’s curious glance. That wasn’t what she was here for! “I thought you said people would be lining up to see me perform!” she demanded. “But nobody is! They’re all skittering away like little mice! What gives, puppy! This isn’t what you promised me!”

“You’re scaring away the fish,” Ren admonished her with a small frown. He pulled up the line – the worm still dangling on the hook – and tossed it in another direction. “Besides, as an idol, you need to read the mood and work from there,” he added. “Everyone’s scared right now. New, loud, exciting talents? They’re really not in the mood for that. Once the doppelganger’s taken down, they’ll probably be a bit more accommodating.”

Elizabeth huffed. “Hmph, and why should I listen to you at this point?” she growled. “I don’t think you’ve been an idol before – I’m not even sure you’re in the business at all! How do I know you’re not just pulling all this from your butt and making stuff up just so I’ll come along with you?!”

The Master shrugged again. “Fair point,” he admitted easily. “You don’t. I haven’t looked much into the idol scene myself. I just observed things from news and people around me.” He sat down at the edge of the dock, his legs dangling over the edge. “You tend to hear a lot of things from everyone, and eventually you get a picture overall of how people work. Or try to, anyway.”

“And what does have to do with me?” Elizabeth demanded.

“You’re an idol, aren’t you?” Ren retorted. He could practically hear Futaba screaming in his head a thousand retorts at Elizabeth. “Then it has everything to do with you. An idol lives or dies by their audience, after all. If you don’t know them, then how can you entertain them or bring them any happiness? How are they supposed to look up to you if there’s nothing about you they want to look up to?”

The Lancer scowled and opened her mouth to retort when something began pulling on the line again. Ren blinked as he scrambled to his feet. He began fighting with the fish again however, it was clear that he was struggling much harder this time, almost stumbling once or twice. “E-Elizabeth, give me a hand over here!” he growled out. She blinked once before running over, grabbing the rod with him and pulled as well.

Then out splashed a huge trout, with the two anglers falling back onto the deck as the fish could no longer pull against them. Ren blinked and looked over at the fish flopping around on the deck and grinned. It was a nice, large catch. This would do nicely.

“How’d you catch that?” Elizabeth asked incredulously as she sat up. What few fishermen she had seen usually caught smaller trout. This one was just massive.

Ren glanced over at her before picking it up. “I’ve done some fishing and even read up on it before,” he explained, looking over his catch. Although he played it off, he was still beyond impressed. He only rarely landed anything nearly this big back in the fishing ponds in Japan. To think he would be able to fish something like this in medieval France… Ryuji would freak out if he saw this. In fact, he should take a picture. Though not here – the light was quickly going and it’d make for a terrible shot.

Elizabeth blinked multiple times. “Just… just from that?” she stammered.

“Well, a bit of luck too,” Ren admitted as he picked up the fish. “But hey, at least knowing about fish and fishing helps me land a bigger one. Wouldn’t be nearly as effective if I didn’t. Maybe if you knew your audience, you could make a big catch like this too.” With a smirk, he began walking back to the manor toting his prize.

The countess could only frown. Why would she need to understand her audience? She was an idol – she was supposed to stand above them, after all. That Master probably was never in show business. But… she remembered her time as the bloody countess of Castle Cjeste. Her people abhorred and hated her. They were perfectly fine with her dying, forgotten and alone.

If she disregarded her audience… would it be the same all over again? Would she just be forgotten and alone once more? As she mulled over Ren’s words, a thought occurred to her. She whipped around in the direction of the Master. “Hey, you can’t use a fishing metaphor to make yourself look smart!” she screamed.

His laughter was her only answer.

—--------

“Please lift your arm.”

As Kiyohime unwrapped the victim’s arm, she frowned. There was a nasty gash on it that was thankfully healing up without infection, though it still looked quite painful. Taking a handful of medical herbs, she ground it into a paste with a mortar and pestle before applying it to the wound. “Tch, ah, c-careful with that, that stings,” the victim, a young man, complained.

“Whine more like that and I shall complete the wyvern’s job of taking off your arm myself,” Kiyohime growled. The victim paled and laid back down, not willing to stoke her temper further. Taking a set of cleaned bandages, she wrapped the young man’s arm back up before tossing the used ones inside a basket filled with dirty bandages and moved on to the next one.

Throughout the first floor of the manor, various refugees and infirm have set up a shelter here. The lord who had lived in the manor had been among one of the first casualties of the doppelganger saint after he mustered out to valiantly – and futilely – fight off the wyverns. The retainers and lady all fled, leaving it completely deserted. Everyone else had been too terrified to even think of looting, trying to keep under cover from the wyverns and monsters that lurked outside.

However, with the various Servants keeping an eye out, medicine women and apothecaries had been moving about, aiding the sick and injured if they could and offering prayers if they couldn’t. Marie and Mozart were among them, the former talking cheerily to the refugees and lifting everyone’s spirits up while Mozart had summoned a violin and played soft melodies of his own composition to the small crowd of awestruck children and their parents.

“I didn’t expect to find you tending to the wounded, Lady Kiyohime.”

The dragon woman glanced up to see Georgios kindly smiling down at her. Turning back to grinding more herbs in her mortar and pestle, she blew a strand of turquoise hair that floated down her face. “It is not out of the kindness of my heart, if you wish to know,” Kiyohime muttered. “Anchin-sama would never leave these people wounded, not if he could help them. When I find him again, I wish for him to be proud and glad I had done what I could to aid them.”

“As valid a reason as any,” Georgios accepted easily. “I wasn’t aware you knew of such medical treatments, however. Were you trained?”

Kiyohime shook her head as she administered the salve to another victim, wounded on their leg. It was trickier as the victim was currently unconscious. “No, I taught myself,” she replied. “With all these dragons and monsters about, I thought it would be best to pick up the needed knowledge in case Anchin-sama was injured. I did not expect to treat anyone else except for him, but if I cannot find him, then at the very least I can do what he would have done in turn.” So saying, she carefully bandaged up the treated wound. Georgios noted that even though she wasn’t enthusiastic about treating them, she was still doing so with surprising care and precision.

As the Berserker picked up the basket of dirty bandages, Georgios went back to attending the other residents. She passed by Jeanne who was currently leading a group prayer with a small gathering of refugees and entered the kitchen, where a tub of hot water sat above a fire. Dumping the bandages in and pulling up her sleeves, she began to wash them, the heat of the water not bothering her in the slightest. It wasn’t typical work she would do, but a model housewife was a master of many skills, and medical aid was a good one to learn indeed.

Hearing a bit of movement behind her, she turned to see the Master of Chaldea walk in, holding a large trout. “Hey, Kiyohime,” he greeted her cordially as he laid the fish on a nearby counter. “Where’s everyone else?”

She glanced over at the fish before turning back to her duties. “The two Sabers, the Shielder, and the cat Master I believe are still discussing in the study,” she replied. “Marie, Mozart, and Jeanne are attending to the refugees. The rest, I do not know.”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Ren murmured. He glanced out of the kitchen and could only feel pangs of guilt. There were so many people here injured and hurt. He wanted to heal them but as soon as he even mentioned the possibility, Morgana and Saber had shut him down. There were simply too many people here to heal and it would drain his strength, right on the cusp of marching on Orleans. At this point, they couldn’t afford any more delays and wait for Ren to recover again.

“And you’ve been fishing?” Kiyohime asked rhetorically as she took out the bandages, wrung them out, and hung them to dry and for reuse.

Ren blinked and glanced back at the fish laying on the counter. “I did,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I needed to relax and calm my mind a bit. Though, looking around, I probably should’ve caught more…”

“If you could catch more than one fish in the couple minutes you’ve been out without using a net, I would consider you a god of fishing,” Kiyohime retorted, cutting of Ren’s guilt. “Even Anchin-sama would not be an angler of that level. He was many things, yes, but he was mortal after all.” She walked over to look over the fish Ren brought in, frowning as she looked it over with a critical eye. “Fairly fat, packed with nutrients,” she murmured. “Yes, this should make a good fry.” She walked about to check the various shelves, murmuring as she collected some of the various herbs and the stockpile of vegetables the refugees had managed to bring with them.

The Master of Chaldea could only stare as Kiyohime started bustling about. “I’ll see if I can catch some more,” he explained a bit lamely, turning around to leave – and almost running into Archer who came in with a string of various other fishes. “Archer?” he gaped in surprise. “I thought you would be keeping watch!”

Archer smirked. “I was, but I saw you were fishing and thought of a few dishes I could make,” he replied. “Not to mention, Siegfried is currently patrolling so there shouldn’t be any problems. It wasn’t too hard to create a few more rods and fish up some more catches for dinner tonight.” With a flick of his wrist, a fishing rod appeared in his hand before vanishing.

Ren blinked before chuckling. “You are really versatile, you know that, Archer?” he commented. Archer’s smirk only widened as he walked in to place his own fishes on the counter, surprisingly followed shortly by Elizabeth, who had caught a fish of her own. It wasn’t the largest fish – a carp – but it was still a good size. She held it up with a small blush on her cheeks.

“I thought everyone might be a bit hungry, so…” Elizabeth trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

The Master only gaped for a second before chuckling. “I think everyone will appreciate it regardless,” he replied, taking the carp off her hands and looking it over. It wasn’t the best catch ever, but the fact she caught something for her first time fishing was impressive in its own right. “It’s a good catch. Thanks a lot, Elizabeth.” He turned away moments before the Lancer’s face exploded into the hue of a tomato.

“Hmph, w-well, it’s o-only natural f-for an i-idol to h-have a lot of talents, a-after all!” she huffed, turning away before walking out. Ren back at Elizabeth as she left the kitchen before turning back – and saw both Archer and Kiyohime staring at him.

“What? Something the matter?” he asked.

Archer chuckled as Kiyohime shook her head. “Do keep your philandery in moderation, Master of Chaldea,” she replied simply, exasperated. Ren could only rub the back of his neck in embarrassment once more as he smiled ruefully. “Now, do you have any skill in a kitchen?” she inquired. “We are making food for no small number of people –“

“One with a king-sized stomach,” Archer snarked.

Kiyohime shot a glare in his direction before looking back at Ren. “And a set of extra hands may be necessary if we wish to be done in a timely manner,” she finished. Ren glanced outside at the other refugees, then pondered something. “Do you think we have enough here for everyone, including the villagers?”

Both Archer and Kiyohime blinked in surprise as they looked at each other, then looked over at the other food supplies they had. Archer frowned. “We’ll be a bit tight on food supplies even if we make some sort of stew,” he pointed out. “Perhaps if the villagers were to contribute some of their own supplies, we can make up for the difference.”

Ren nodded with a grin. Popping his head out of the kitchen, he called out, “Georgios! Elizabeth!” The two Servants blinked and made their way over to him.

“Is something amiss, Ren?” Georgios asked, concerned.

The Master shook his head. “No, not at all,” he replied. “It’s just that we were thinking of making dinner for everyone, including the townspeople. We do need more food supplies though. Do you think you could bring the townspeople over and see what they can spare?”

Georgios frowned. “Ren, these people have been trying to ration whatever food they have left,” he said. “They can’t trade nor farm, and fishing is a risky venture. To use it all at once in such a manner would be very wasteful, not when it can possibly buy them another few days.”

“It definitely would,” Ren agreed. “Still, spirit is just as important in the right circumstances. After all, you’ve seen the refugees and the townspeople. I’m guessing you’ve seen how afraid and despairing they are? Even if things go back to normal, they’ll be spending a very long time trying to recover.” He still remembered his first days at Shujin, with everyone glaring or glancing at him with suspicion. Sojiro was especially wary, snapping at him that if he put so much as a toe out of line, he would be kicked out.

If he hadn’t met Ryuji that day, if they hadn’t entered the Metaverse… it was all too possible his year in Tokyo would’ve been nothing but fear. He would’ve become just like everyone else: Cowed into submission, unable and unwilling to make waves, even if injustice was happening in front of him. Exactly what the God of Control would’ve wanted.

“Something to break this fear and show them that things will be better is essential,” he continued. “We’ll be marching on Orleans tomorrow, right? It’s better we go with a sendoff rather than leaving everything in a hole like this. Please.”

Georgios stared hard at Ren for a moment, meeting the young man’s stern grey eyes. Then he sighed and smiled. “Very well, you speak sense,” he acceded. “I will go round up the townspeople and see what supplies they can spare. I warn you though, I can promise nothing.”

“Well, that’s why Elizabeth is coming with you, isn’t it?” Ren asked, looking towards the surprised Lancer with a smirk. “After all, it’s an idol’s duty to shine bright and bring hope to everyone. I don’t doubt she’d have the confidence and charm to pull it off. Between the two of you, I’m sure you guys will make it work.”

Elizabeth blinked several times, then drew herself up, flipping her hair. “Hmph! Glad to see you know my talents and beauty, puppy!” she declared. “I’ll work with the saint here and get everyone together, with food! We’re gonna throw the biggest party France has seen yet!”

Ren and Georgios chuckled. “I don’t doubt it,” the former replied cordially. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.” The two walked out of the manor, the rather nonplussed Jeanne staring as the mismatched duo left before haltingly turning back to her prayers with everyone.

The Master turned back to see both Archer and Kiyohime staring at him once more. “What?” he asked again.

“… Very dangerous, Master of Chaldea,” Kiyohime simply stated before turning back to chopping up vegetables. Archer simply smiled while shaking his head before projecting a knife and handing it over. Ren smirked as he took the knife, and under Archer’s supervision and tutelage, got to work.

----------

Georgios and Elizabeth had been successful beyond what a lot of them expected. With Elizabeth’s confidence and cheer as well as Georgios’s reassurances and protective presence, the townspeople came out with no small amount of supplies: Ale, bacon, vegetables, herbs, bread, and more. Thanks to everything that was brought over, they had to have a discussion of what to use or not. A party or not, it wouldn’t be proper to eat everyone out of house and home (Saber notwithstanding).

Thus, they decided to use whatever was most in danger of going bad first: vegetables and fruits as well as various meats, including the fish. Using the bacon to grease the cookware, Kiyohime used one of the pans to fry the fish over an open fire, the heat from the flames not affecting her whatsoever. Ren with the guidance of Archer stirred a large pot of stew filled with various vegetables. Meanwhile, both Ren and Archer moved together, working and preparing various ingredients and adding them to the stew or passing them over to Kiyohime. The aroma of the cooking attracted attention from various Servants, refugees, and townspeople, who glanced in curiosity at the three working.

After an hour or two, it was all passed around. A hearty vegetable and bacon stew with a plate of fried fish steak and bread on the side. It was simple, given they didn’t have a lot of spices to work with, but it worked out surprisingly well. Within moments, everyone was digging into their food with gusto, laughing and cheering as they guzzled down ale. They had dispersed all around the manor on both floors, collecting in groups and swapping tales and stories. Sometimes, the air became grim as they reflected on their suffering, but swiftly moved on from there.

Ren himself was outside with his own plates of food. He eschewed the ale for a bottle of water. After dealing with Ohya for so long, he was going to avoid alcohol like the plague if he could help it. He took out his cellphone and took a picture of the food. Food made in medieval times. Just the thought of it was wild. Putting it away, he spooned a mouthful of the stew. He smiled. No seasoning, but Archer was as good a chef as always.

“Was wondering where you went!”

He glanced over to see Morgana happily carrying his own bowl and plate out. Despite both things being considerably larger in his tiny paws, he had no trouble carrying them as he sat beside Ren. “You even managed to get fish!” he exclaimed. “It’s not sushi, but after those military rations, this is practically heaven!” He took his knife, cut off a bit of the fish, then popped it into his mouth with a spoon. His short legs waved in the air in excitement. “So good!” he exclaimed. “Did you or Archer do this, Ren?”

Ren chuckled. “No, it wasn’t,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was Kiyohime. She took over frying the fish, and she did a great job of them. I might need to ask her for some tips. I think Archer already is.” He looked over at his best friend. “Were you busy hashing plans out with Saber or something?” he asked.

Morgana nodded as he took another bite of food. “Yeah,” he answered. “We were trying to see if there was another approach we could take and coming up with plans A through Z, though we stopped at around G when Saber smelled your food and her stomach rumbles kept interrupting our discussions. Mash was there, but she didn’t say much. I think she wanted to just listen and learn more than anything. Guess she’s trying to grow.” With a nonchalant shrug, he dug into his stew.

Taking his bottle of water, he sipped contemplatively. He didn’t know Mash all that well, aside from the fact that she had been living in Chaldea her whole life. He had to wonder: what were these Singularities like in her eyes? Was she as focused on combat as he was? What did she like or didn’t like? She had been doing her best to ask about him, but he hadn’t asked much about her in turn. He had to admit, he was curious. Maybe he should talk to her more when they got back to Chaldea…

The doors burst open, causing both Ren and Morgana to whirl around to see what the disturbance was. Out staggered Mash, a flagon in her hand. “Th-there you are, M-Mashter, hic!” she slurred. “Y-you are alwayssss s-s-so hard to keep up, y’know? Why-why-why don’t you teeeeell meeeee your sheecrets?”

“Girlie, you had just one sip of that ale!” came the shocked remark from within the manor.

The two Masters looked at each other. Ren sighed, stood up, and walked to Mash to get her to bed.

Well, at least this situation felt familiar.

Chapter Text

The halls of Chaldea were quiet. Aside from the hum of the occasional robot wheeling by, there was no one wandering its sterile halls. The staff were currently either in the command center, on break, or taking care of maintenance. A far cry from when the hallways constantly had researchers, engineers, and magi moving to and fro throughout the facility.

Roman shuffled through the hallways, yawning. He had spent yet another all-nighter in the command room, monitoring Ren and Morgana’s progress throughout the Orleans singularity. He had a considerable scare when he saw Mash’s blood alcohol levels rising and was about to call Ren when Da Vinci pointed out that her blood alcohol levels were nowhere near toxic or intoxicating. Then the Caster essentially booted him out of the chair so he could actually sleep.

Three hours later, he was making his way to the cafeteria. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep ever since the bombing of Chaldea just a week prior. If he wasn’t working throughout the night, he was tossing and turning in bed. There was just too much to think about, and the nightmares of that day never left him either.

He sighed. Maybe he should consult the medical AI and see if he could get it to prescribe him some sleep medication. He was the sole medical expert here, but it wouldn’t be ethical to prescribe himself medicine.

Entering the cafeteria, he blearily saw some of the staff there munching on some food as another robot rolled about in the kitchen, operating the devices. Shambling over to the counter, he collapsed in the chair. A second later, the robot chef rolled up to him. “Greetings, Dr. Archaman,” it greeted him. “Today, we have pasta alfredo with gelato for dessert.”

Italian, huh? Well, that worked for him. Roman gave a tired smile and nodded. The robot wheeled away to start making his dishes.

“You look like you’ve been through the wringer, doc.”

He glanced up and saw one of the engineers sitting beside him. Dustin – a man in his thirties with swept back brown hair. He had originally been hired as a cosmic rays physicist, but showed a good aptitude for the various machinery in Chaldea. A trait that came very much in handy when most of the engineers were killed by the bombing.

Roman chuckled tiredly. “Do I really look that bad?” he asked, running a hand through his matted orange hair.

Dustin laughed. “I’ve seen roadkill that looks better than you,” he bluntly replied. “Hey, chef! Two cups of joe for us here!” The robot acknowledged him and began making the drinks as well. He sagged over on the counter as well. “Though that being said, we’re all being put through the wringer,” he grumbled. “Chaldea’s not supposed to work with such small numbers. It’s a bit balanced by the fact that not as many facilities are being used, but still, it’s a lot.”

The doctor glanced over at the engineer and sure enough, Dustin looked almost as tired and weary as he felt. “It certainly has been difficult,” he agreed. “At least we have the robot staff here helping out. Can you imagine if we didn’t have them?”

The older man shuddered. “Don’t jinx it, doc,” he muttered. “If they break down like that, I might start hitting the bottle just so I don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“As your doctor, I’m supposed to advise you against such an action,” Roman pointed out, though he had a wry smirk. “As a person… if you decide to break out the bottle, let me know.”

Both men broke out laughing. Despite their complaints, they were dedicated to their duties through thick and thin. Dustin had been working almost as hard as Roman alongside Da Vinci to keep their systems running. The engineer had been a casual drinker on his time off, but ever since the bombing hadn’t so much as touched a drop for fear of impairing his faculties.

Roman then placed his laptop on the counter and opened it, navigating to his ever-favorite website. Dustin blinked as he saw the sight before sighing in exasperation. “Still dedicated to Magi*Mari?” he asked tiredly.

The doctor glanced over at Dustin. “Hey, Magi*Mari has good advice! And she’s essential for keeping spirits up!” Roman argued vehemently. “Without her, I’d be collapsing into a sobbing heap right about now! Don’t judge her!”

“I’m not judging her, doc, I’m judging you,” he bluntly replied. “And how the hell is she even broadcasting anyway? There’s no internet anymore.”

“Oh, what does it matter?” Roman snapped. “Magi*Mari is magical, okay? She’s the best and would never let me down! Right, Magi*Mari?”

The white robed digital girl smiled through the screen, then spoke in a cheerful voice. “Maybe you should learn to get your life together and do your job, you good-for-nothing lazy bum!”

Dustin roared with laughter, pounding at the counter as Roman pouted, shutting off his laptop. “W-wow, doc, I didn’t know y-you had s-such a h-h-hobby,” Dustin breathed, barely getting the words out between guffaws. “B-better hope Da Vinci d-doesn’t h-hear that o-or you’ll be up sh-shit creek!”

“Shut up, just, shut up,” Roman grumbled, setting the laptop down and burying his face in his hands. By a miracle, the pasta and gelato was served, as well as a cup of coffee. Roman nodded in gratitude at the robot before digging into the pasta. It wasn’t bad but…

“Not the same as when Archer made it, eh?” Dustin pointed out, noticing Roman’s reaction.

Roman nodded in agreement. Between him and Ren, they were practically spoiled for cuisines and taste. With both of them out on the field, they had to make do with the robot chefs. They were more than serviceable but the dishes just lacked a certain… flair the two added in. “It can’t be helped,” Roman sighed. “They’re both out on the field. Once they come back, we can bug them for their cooking again. Until then, we’ll just have to make do.”

“Cheers to that,” Dustin grumbled. He grabbed his own cup of coffee and sipped it – and flinched. “God, leave it to these robots to make me miss the kid even more.”

The doctor took a drink of the coffee and flinched just as badly. Bitter, with none of those subtle notes of flavors from the coffees Ren made all the time. He had been chugging the stuff by the gallon to get by on the mission. His tongue was practically numb to the bitterness at this point – though that still didn’t make it any less of a chore to drink compared to the deliciousness Ren provided.

This was turning out to be a very long mission.

----------

The morning came with surprising gusto. Sunlight shone through clear, cloudless skies, illuminating the world with its golden rays. A mild breeze blew through the land, keeping the place at a refreshing temperature. It was truly a beautiful day, a perfect day for relaxing… or for marching.

Mash stirred in the bed, eyelids heavy. Her mind felt more sluggish than usual, her limbs heavier. She blearily blinked at the sunlight filtering in through a window. It must be late morning, yet she still felt so tired and heavy. Her arms were wrapped around something warm and soft. She closed her eyes and snuggled into it. Maybe just a couple more minutes…

“I’m not one to talk, Mash, but perhaps we should get moving?”

She blinked as the warm, soft thing vibrated from the sound of someone talking. Opening her eyes once more, she looked up at who talked, and came to a few rapid realizations: The thing she was holding was the one who was talking, it was a person, and most importantly, the person she was clinging to was Ren Amamiya.

Her eyes shot wide open. “S-Senpai?!” she gasped, quickly leaping away.

Ren grinned as he sat up from the bed, straightening his Chaldean uniform. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, Mash,” he joked. “Though you were pretty drunk last night. In case you were wondering, you didn’t do anything. You were just somewhat wasted. Wish all drunk people were as easy to handle as you were.” He chuckled to himself like it was a joke.

Mash could only blink several times, the implications catching up to her. Her face rapidly turned a crimson hue as she bowed as low as possible. “I-I-I-I beg your forgiveness, senpai!” she stuttered. “Th-th-th-that was a slip of j-j-j-judgment a-a-and it w-w-won’t happen a-a-a-again!”

The Master only blinked, then laughed. “It’s fine, Mash, no harm done,” he reassured her as he got out of bed, stretching. “Though for future reference, maybe you shouldn’t drink again? You really don’t know how to handle alcohol, do you?”

Blinking, Mash shook her head. “Um, I guess, senpai,” she murmured. “It was my first time imbibing any alcohol.”

Ren froze. “Your… first time drinking?” he repeated slowly.

The Shielder blinked. “Is something the matter, senpai?” she asked.

He frowned at her, then shook his head. “No, not with you,” he murmured. “I got careless. I should’ve known and kept a better eye out. Sorry about that.”

Mash’s widened as she shook her head. This was the first time he seemed… angry. “Oh, no, senpai, it was my fault!” she rapidly reassured him. “I was the one who decided to drink it out of curiosity. The responsibility lies with me. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

Ren shook his head. “No excuse,” he growled. “I should’ve been more attentive, but I got too relaxed in the end. Things could’ve gone very badly for you if something went wrong.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Oh boy, Roman is going to give me so much crap for this, not like I don’t deserve it at this point,” he muttered.

A moment later, the easy grin had returned to Ren’s face. Mash, however, wasn’t reassured. Despite the smile, she could feel his anger underneath it like magma underneath the surface of a volcano. “Well, at least nothing happened this time,” he said, faking a lighter tone. “I’m glad you had fun last night, though. We should probably meet with the others and see if there’s anything else we need to hash out.”

Mash opened her mouth to answer but before she could, Ren had walked out of the bedroom, leaving her alone. She bit her lip anxiously. She had messed up.

----------

He messed up.

Ren was fuming as he marched down the hallways of the manor. He should’ve known Mash never had alcohol before, given that she had been in Chaldea for all of her life. If it weren’t for the Servants here and the fact that the townspeople and refugees were fairly decent people, things could’ve gone very badly for Mash, and it would have been his fault for being lax in his vigilance.

His mind flashed back to that time before Tokyo. A drunken man accosting a woman, trying to force her into his car. His flushed face twisted in frustration and rage as he pulled at her wrist. He had stepped in to interfere and help the woman… and in the end, was the one who was put in a cop car in handcuffs. The woman herself was the one who ended up damning him, pressured into giving a false testimony of his crimes.

Not too surprising though. Not many wanted to go against Masayoshi Shido, allowing him to run away with a clean slate for almost anything and everything he could do. The fact that justice reached him in the end didn’t make it any less bitter for him to swallow. It was why he continued with being a Phantom Thief after Kamoshida had been taken down: So that they could give people hope and people in power could be held accountable, and not get away with being drunken louts on top of everything else.

Mash being drunk was fairly uneventful overall. He had simply escorted her to an empty bedroom and laid her down while she continued to talk, prodding him for his secrets and his powers. He simply deflected it all, saying he would answer her in the morning. He hadn’t expected her to pull him down with her, then completely wrap herself around him and snuggle. He tried to break free, but her demi-Servant abilities made that impossible. Eventually, he could only just give up and try to get some shuteye himself.

He shook his head. What the hell was he doing? He was playing around too much. The whole of humanity was gone and here he was, hosting a party in medieval France and allowing those he was supposed to be protecting get drunk! He had been getting lazy. They needed to get back on track.

Opening the door to the study, he noticed that Morgana, Archer, Saber, Jeanne, and Georgios were already there, studying the map once more. They all looked up as Ren entered the room. Morgana flashed a mischievous grin. “Morning, Joker,” he called out. “I’m guessing you slept well?”

Ren forced a grin on his face. “About as well as I could under the circumstances,” he replied, walking over to the map table. The grin soon melted into a stern expression though as he looked down at the map. So, what’s the plan here?” he asked.

Saber frowned. “At the moment, our best bet is to march straight for Orleans,” she replied, pointing to the city. “We do not have the numbers needed for a diversionary strike, we cannot waste time on any obfuscating marches, nor is there any terrain or passages conducive to stealth.” She crossed her arms. “I do not like it, but we have far too little information about the area and what to expect. Most likely we’ll be camping on the outskirts and planning what to do once we’ve scouted the area.”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves stared at the map thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose I could just break out Metatron again and give them the runaround?” he asked, looking up at the assembled group.

Archer shook his head. “Not a good idea, Master,” he replied. “That taunt worked the first time because she wasn’t expecting it and got distracted, and everyone else was in position. If you tried it again here, then there’s likely one of two outcomes: She either doesn’t bother moving whatsoever and even entrenches herself further because she knows you’re here, or she’ll send out everyone and everything in an attempt to kill you. Either way would lead to a bad situation for us.”

“Furthermore, my doppelganger still has the Grail,” Jeanne pointed out. “Even if we emptied out the city, we have no guarantees that she wouldn’t just summon more reinforcements. They could easily stall us out while her main force wheels back around and pincers us.”

Morgana mused over the possibilities. “What about the French army?” he asked, looking up at Jeanne and Georgios. “They’re being led by Gilles de Rais, right? We could use their numbers to help with the attack as well.”

Georgios frowned. “I would not advise that either, Morgana,” he warned. “The French are undoubtedly brave and will fight to the death, but death is all they’ll find, most likely – they’ll quickly end up swarmed and slaughtered before any of us can make any headway. Plus, a large force like that she’ll likely see coming. Our best hope right now is in our smaller contingent, where it’s far harder to track.”

Ren sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, huh?” he muttered. Nobody around the table looked happy at their options, as few as they were. He glanced up at Archer. “What about your Pala – er, reality marble?” he asked, quickly amending himself. “If we lured the bulk of her forces there, couldn’t we use that to cut her numbers down, literally?”

Archer sighed. “Utilizing Unlimited Blade Works is extremely prana-intensive, Master,” he explained patiently. “And even if I snared a large part of the forces, everything within would still need to be killed regardless. We may have one or two shots with it, but I would rather not use it willy-nilly unless I know it would leave a noticeable dent that we could exploit.”

The Master sighed and nodded. That was fair enough. “So, in short, we make our way to Orleans, see what’s going on, and make plans from there,” he summed up. “Not the best plan but looks like it’s our only plan for now.” Well, admittedly he and Morgana had been in tighter spots. They often had their backs to a wall one way or another when they had to infiltrate Palaces. This wouldn’t be much different, except perhaps on a far grander scale. “We’ll make what preparations we need, then we’ll get a move on. The sooner we get there, the faster we can figure out what to do.”

Everyone nodded. Thus dismissed, the Servants all filed out of the door to gather the others and explain the situation, leaving the two Masters behind in the study. Morgana glanced over at Ren. “Something wrong?” he asked, looking up at him curiously.

Ren walked over to the window, looking out at the fields. It almost seemed idyllic, save for the signs of devastation: Ruined and burned buildings, the carved furrow of Fafnir’s crash landing, and he even saw a large makeshift cemetery just a bit beyond the town as well. He grit his teeth. “I’m not doing enough,” he growled. “Not nearly enough.”

Morgana blinked with surprise. “Wha – what the hell are you talking about, Joker?” he asked, flabbergasted. “You of all people are doing everything you can here! ‘Not enough’? Honestly, everyone here thinks you’re doing too much as it is!”

“Is it?” Ren asked, glancing over at Morgana. “Mash got drunk last night because she’d never drank before. If it wasn’t for the Servants and everyone else here being decent, things could’ve gone extremely wrong.”

He leaned over the window, his fingers digging into the frame. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Morgana,” he admitted. “Here I am throwing some party in the middle of medieval France and letting someone I should be protecting get intoxicated, right before we have to march on an enemy base. There could’ve – should’ve – been other things I could do. Instead, I took the most wasteful option.”

“’Wasteful’?” Morgana repeated. “Ren, you were the one who convinced Georgios to throw that party to begin with! And he agreed because you were right: Everyone’s spirits needed lifting! Mash got drunk, sure, but it wasn’t something you could’ve prevented. It was only a mistake that anyone could’ve –“

“’Only a mistake?’” Ren hissed, glaring at Morgana. “A mistake?! Morgana, we can’t afford mistakes! Not anymore! Everyone is gone! If something goes wrong here, then that’s it! The whole world’s finished! Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Sumire, everyone…!” He could stop the tears from springing from his eyes. “We’re the only ones left, Morgana,” he whispered. “If we screw up here, we’ll never see them again.”

His head dropped to his hands. “I can’t afford to screw up even a bit,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, Morgana. It’s just… I don’t even know how to describe it anymore.”

Morgana was silent for a bit. Then he hopped up on the windowsill, summoned his scimitar, and smacked Ren on the top of his head with the flat of the blade. “Ow!” Ren stammer. “Morgana, what-!“

“Get your head in the game!” Morgana snapped. “You’re right, we can’t afford mistakes. However, overthinking things and acting like this isn’t gonna help anyone! We’ve been through a lot of really bad situations before, and this is just another one of them! If we start freaking out now and second guessing ourselves, that’s only gonna make sure we’ll lose in the end.” He glared up at Ren. “Now you tell me – are you gonna keep crying and freaking out about this? Or are you gonna be Joker and see us all through?”

Ren only blinked in surprise with his mouth agape, then he began chuckling, wiping away some of his tears. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he replied, smiling at his friend. “Sorry about losing my composure like that. It must’ve been embarrassing to watch.”

His best friend smiled sympathetically. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself,” he replied reassuringly. “Sometimes, you just gotta have someone to snap your head on straight. Both you and me. We’ll get through this, Joker, and see everyone in the end. And we’ll have some crazy stories to tell them once we get back.”

Then he paused and crossed his paws, pondering. “Actually, I dunno how much we CAN tell them,” he mused. “Chaldea is supposed to be top-secret, after all. Even Futaba couldn’t make a dent in its defenses.”

Ren chuckled again. “Well, we can always ask Roman and Da Vinci,” he replied easily. “And if we can’t, well, we’ll just have to make up some story – and get them that buffet so they’ll forget about it.”

“And sushi!” Morgana chirped.

“And sushi,” Ren agreed. “Now come on, we better get a move on.”

Both of them walked out of the study – and nearly ran straight into Mash at the door. “Whoa, sorry, Mash,” he quickly apologized. “Guess you just missed our meeting. Not much that we didn’t cover last night, though. Long and short of it is that we have to get to Orleans first and scope the situation out first before we can plan our next move.”

Mash blinked with surprise, then hurriedly nodded. “Oh, um, o-of course, senpai!” she stammered.

Ren grinned. “Before we get going, we should have some breakfast first,” he said, walking down the hallway. “Let’s see what we can scrounge up first.”

“Think there’s any more of last night’s fish?” Morgana asked hopefully, following Ren.

Mash followed closely behind them, fidgeting. She had been behind the door listening in on Ren and Morgana’s talk after the meeting. What was she to make of all this? She wanted to help her senpai, but it all had to do with the outside world. A world she had no idea about at all. And it was clear he had a life outside of Chaldea. His own friends and family, his own joys and hobbies. Even after everything, she would still be in Chaldea.

What could she do? 

----------

The original plan had been to eat some more rations (much to Morgana’s displeasure), but the refugees and townspeople insisted they could have more of their foodstuffs. To that end, they ended up having a relatively luxurious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and bread. Even then, they started piling more foodstuffs together as supplies for their march to Orleans. Some of them even grabbed whatever farming implements or heirloom weapons to march with them. Jeanne, Georgios, and surprisingly even Saber talked them down.

“I thought you’d be first in line for more food, Saber,” Morgana pointed out cheekily.

Saber scowled at the cat Master. “Do not insult me, Master,” she snapped. “I do not take food unnecessarily. These people have far greater need of it than me, and even when the country has been reestablished, it will be some time before trade and commerce can be rebuilt, as well as cultivating farmland and animals. While I agreed with Ren’s proposition last night, we have taken enough.”

Morgana blinked with surprise, then backed off, lowering his head. “Er, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you,” he apologized ruefully.

The King of Knights nodded, her expression relaxing a bit. “So long as you understand,” she replied, accepting the apology.

With that, with a cheerful farewell from the grateful refugees and townspeople, the Servants and Masters began marching to Orleans. In the end, they took some fruits from the village, if only to appease them and they wouldn’t take more. The apples they had gotten certainly made for a good snack, as Ren could testify as he munched on one on the way.

As they moved along, all the Servants kept their guards up. Even the normally cheerful ones like Marie, Mozart, and Elizabeth were more guarded this time around. They were heading into the heart of enemy territory. There had been no sight or sound of anything – Servants, wyverns, or monsters – and that only made them all the more wary. They could very well be marching straight towards a trap or ambush. Archer and Saber in particular had been scouting, leaving Siegfried as the vanguard as they continued on. But for a good while, there was no sign of anything.

It was mid-afternoon when Archer silently raised a hand for them to stop. They were still a small distance away from Orleans, over at the outskirts. With that, he quickly darted off towards a city, past a crest of small hills. A couple minutes later, he came back. His expression was grim, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “It’s worse than we thought,” he stated.

“What are we looking at, Archer?” Ren asked.

“The city’s crawling with wyverns, monsters, and even shadow Servants,” Archer replied. “If we set even one foot toward Orleans, they’ll swarm us and overwhelm us with sheer numbers. And that’s only what I saw. I don’t know if that doppelganger has set up any traps or ambushes around, and I don’t want to take that risk. The only comfort is that it doesn’t seem any of them are moving anytime soon, nor have we been spotted, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

Morgana scowled. “Ugh, she chose the smartest move and that makes it difficult for us,” he grumbled. “She’s entrenched herself with her forces, meaning breaking through is gonna be difficult, maybe even impossible.” He turned to Jeanne. “You’ve been to Orleans before, right?” he asked. “Can you think of any secret passageways or some way to get in that you think the doppelganger would’ve overlooked?”

Jeanne blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “I can think of a few places but the doppelganger would most likely think of those same locations, wouldn’t she?” she asked. “If she did, then she’ll probably have them guarded or prepared. And if we get caught there, she can easily cut off our escape and wipe us out.”

Marie raised her hand. “Could we not just charge them?” she asked. “I know military strategy isn’t my forte, but I’ve read a few stories. Perhaps if we move fast enough, we could reach the doppelganger and defeat her before she could rally her forces?”

Saber frowned. “Normally not a bad tactic,” the King of Knights admitted. “However, if what Archer says is true, they’re far too entrenched for that to work. They can easily sound an alarm and rebuff our advances. In this scenario, a charge like that would be akin to suicide.”

The group was silent, pondering their situation. An impregnable fortress, with only a few people to work with. They couldn’t risk an open battle or confrontation, and sneaking in would be extraordinarily difficult, even with the few numbers they had. And there was no easy way to capitalize on Ren’s magecraft again, not unless they wanted the doppelganger to dogpile all her forces on him. As capable as he was, even he wouldn’t be able to escape that.

Ren swallowed, then reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Morgana’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking about her Palace?” Morgana asked.

“I don’t think we’ve another choice at this point,” Ren replied grimly. “It’s clear we can’t get into Orleans by a regular way, and frankly this Palace may be more dangerous than anything we’ve ever encountered. The only advantage of it is that the doppelganger won’t know we’re coming.”

“Wait, puppy, what exactly are you talking about?” Elizabeth piped up, glancing over at Ren’s phone. “The heck is a Palace?”

Ren and Morgana looked at each other, then turned to explain to the newcomers – Georgios, Kiyohime, and Elizabeth – about the Palaces and Personas. By the end of the explanation, Kiyohime was frowning in confusion, Georgios looked pensive. As for Elizabeth, she ended up sitting on the ground, cradling her head. “Couldn’t you have made it any less confusing?” she whined.

The Master of Chaldea grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Elizabeth, but that’s the simplest I can make it,” he replied earnestly. He couldn’t exactly blame her. When Morgana first explained the concepts, his and Ryuji’s heads were spinning. They probably understood it only partway through Kamoshida’s Palace, and even then, Makoto made better sense of it all than they did.

“A mental landscape born from distorted desires, and this doppelganger has one,” Georgios mused. “That is a battlefield I am distinctly unfamiliar with. Still, it seems to be our best option at this point. I will follow your lead, Ren Amamiya.”

Kiyohime sighed as she glared at Ren. “At risk of repeating myself once more, you are considerably more dangerous than I thought,” she stated. “If this will bring me closer to my Anchin-sama, then so be it. But be warned that my patience is growing thin – I do not tolerate liars in any capacity, and it is clear you have many secrets you would need to lie about.”

Ren nodded in understanding before looking around at the other Servants. “Right, we’re heading into the Palace now,” he told them. “Me and Morgana are the most experienced in navigating them but even we can’t say for certain how it will be like. We’ll be counting on you guys to watch our backs. Stick close to us unless we say otherwise.”

The Servants all nodded. With that, Ren opened the Metaverse Navigator. As expected, Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s Palace was still in the saved addresses. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button. Their surroundings began twisting and blurring as they entered the cognitive world, preceded only by the app’s announcement:

Beginning navigation.

Chapter Text

Cold.

That was the first impression Joker had of Jeanne Alter’s Palace. It wasn’t the kind of cold he felt from the winters back in Japan, where he could just bundle up. It seemed to seep right through his clothes and skin and into his bones, leaving him shivering. His breath became puffs of white mist. Even though his Phantom Thief gear covered almost all his skin save for his head, it did nothing to hinder the unnatural cold of the Palace.

Ahead of them lay a medieval city – or rather, the ruins of one. The buildings and streets were completely frozen over, the ice clinging heavily to walls or standing tall in pillars lining the roads. The sounds of distant roars and screeches echoed throughout the Palace, the ringing ice giving them an almost ethereal quality. The sky itself was completely black, not even a moon or stars, yet for some reason, the ground was illuminated enough for them to see.

“Achoo!” Morgana sneezed, rubbing his paws. “Jeez! You think for someone whose Palace is Hell, it’d be a bit warmer than this! Some flames right now would be nice!”

The other Servants could only look about in awe, shock, and horror. “Is this… truly what my doppelganger thinks of Orleans?” Jeanne breathed, her eyes wide. “This… twisted, frozen land? This is her image of Hell?”

“ Mon dieu , I do love winter wonderlands, but this is far too grotesque,” Marie sniffed. “Nothing about this place feels friendly or cheery, not even the ice has that purity it normally comes with. And this air feels… wrong. I don’t know how to put my finger on it, but even that seems repulsive as opposed to clean winter air.”

Joker turned around to look at the group. He quickly noted that only he and Morgana seemed to be the only ones feeling the temperature. Even the more lightly dressed Servants like Mash, Marie, and Siegfried, didn’t seem to be bothered whatsoever. “Right, this is a Palace, guys,” he explained, quickly grabbing everyone’s attention. “As we told you, this is a cognitive world formed when someone views a location with a twisted desire and distortion. Be careful of what you see here. None of it is actually real – it's all cognition. Put in another way, this is all in her mind. But if there’s shadows or enemies, they can still very much harm us.”

“Putting that aside, puppy, when did you get a wardrobe change like that?!” Elizabeth demanded. “And who’s your tailor?! I need them to make outfits for me, ASAP!”

Joker blinked and glanced down at his Phantom Thief uniform. He chuckled. Right, he had forgotten after seeing the Palace. “This is what I end up wearing whenever I enter a Palace,” he explained. “The clothes symbolize my ‘will of rebellion’ so no tailor, Elizabeth. Sorry.”

Elizabeth pouted. “Figures it wouldn’t be that easy,” she grumbled.

“I don’t see anyone around us at the moment,” Archer noted, checking the area. “I’ll head to the rooftop and check the area.” So saying, he vanished into spiritual form, leaving the group on the ground.

The leader of the Phantom Thieves looked over to Jeanne, who was still reeling from the sight. “Are you alright, Jeanne?” he called out concernedly.

Jeanne blinked, her expression a morass of emotions. “Yes – well, no,” she admitted (missing the very dangerous glare Kiyohime shot her). “This city is the heart of where I dedicated myself to my trials from the Lord. It symbolized to me what French freedom from the English should be. This…” She gestured to the city. “This looks like a scene from my greatest nightmares,” she whispered. “My beloved city, dead and frozen like… this. This truly is a scene from Hell.”

Joker glanced back at the city, nodding sympathetically. “Yeah, it doesn’t get much easier, seeing a familiar environment twisted like this,” he murmured.

The Saint looked back at Ren. “You’ve had experience with this, I take it?” she asked.

“Yep,” he confirmed. “First ever Palace I went to was my own high school. The target was my gym teacher who thought of the place as his own castle.” Joker’s hands tightened into fists as he remembered their target. “He was a creep who abused his own volleyball team and molested the girls. One of the girls tried to commit suicide because of it. Me and my friends took him down. Even after, I still occasionally saw the halls of that castle in the school.”

He blinked and realized that he had talked too much. He always felt far more comfortable talking about his adventures as a Phantom Thief while dressed as one – often because they were in a Palace when he brought any new members up to speed on what was going on. It must have been a subconscious reaction. Still, nothing he could do about it now. It wasn’t like he was pretending he didn’t have experience.

As he turned back to the group, he noticed that everyone besides Mona was staring at him with a mixture of aghast or awestruck expressions. “I… am truly horrified you had to go through such an experience,” Jeanne murmured. “I offer my sincerest condolences.”

“You speak no lies when you told us of your experience,” Kiyohime murmured, her gaze inscrutable. “I am beginning to see how you became the way you did: Out of necessity, not out of evil. Tread lightly, however. The path you walk is a thin one – one where you can easily be led astray.”

“Hey, a little more faith here, will you?” Mona snapped. “Joker here is one of the finest Phantom Thieves I’ve ever seen, and he came far with my tutelage! And remember, we’re the ones who are leading you into the Palace, so watch your step!”

“A… Thief?” Siegfried inquired, looking at the two Masters. “Your garb is a bit too garish for thievery. And why are you referred to as a jester of sorts?”

Joker blinked, then chuckled. “No, me and Morgana go by code names inside Palaces,” he explained. “We don’t know how saying our real names in a cognitive world might affect a person, so we try not to use them. I go by Joker. In playing cards, the Joker card is often the unpredictable one, with lots of roles it can play. Morgana here goes by Mona – for the Mona Lisa.”

“The most infamous painting of them all!” Mona proudly declared.

The Servants blinked at the explanation, looking between the two of them when Archer reappeared. “I see wyverns and some form of monsters about,” Archer said. “However, no sign of the doppelganger or any Servants so far. The city outline looks similar to the real world Orleans at the very least. So, Masters, this is your battleground. What’s our plan?”

Joker nodded. “Right, our objective in a Palace boils down to one thing: Stealing the Treasure,” he explained. “Our first course of action is to figure out a route to the Treasure. However, even if we do that, the Treasure will be intangible. To manifest it properly, we send a calling card, letting our target know that we’ll be taking it. After that, we get back in, make our way to the Treasure, and steal it.”

“A calling card, huh?” Elizabeth purred, a grin on her face. “You two certainly know how to do things with style!”

“Quite,” Mozart agreed. “This will be quite an exhilarating composition!”

The other Servants didn’t look as taken by the idea, however. “Forgive me, but what is the point of stealing riches within a cognitive world?” Georgios asked, frowning. “Many of us aren’t known to be thieves – in fact, no small number of us repudiate them – and we wonder how that will help us.”

“Also, warning an enemy that we are broaching their defenses?” Saber added. “I can see some strategical value in that. However, it is generally unwise for one to notify their opponent where and when they plan to strike.”

“Right, first things first,” Mona said. “The Treasures we steal aren’t ‘riches’ or things like that. It’s what caused the distortion in the target to begin with. For example, the Treasure of the gym teacher we told you guys about was his Olympic gold medal.” He nodded to Joker.

“That medal was the root of his distortion,” he continued. “Once it was removed, his Palace collapsed, and he had a change of heart. Unable to bear the weight of his sins, he confessed everything publicly. Not even the other adults supporting him could cover THAT up.” Mona smirked at the end of that explanation. The Servants’ eyes widened at that explanation, trying to comprehend it.

“As for the calling card, it’s the only way to manifest the Treasure properly,” Joker jumped in. “By making them aware that we’re coming for their heart or their Treasure, they will focus on that Treasure, manifesting it in the cognitive world. However, the impact of a calling card is short lived. It only lasts a day and sending another one after that will likely be dismissed by the target as an inconsequential threat. Once we’ve sent the card, we only have that one chance to seize the Treasure.”

Saber crossed her arms. “Using a diversion to manifest a Treasure to bring it out into the open,” she mused. “I can see how that would be valuable. I assume this is why we need a route to the Treasure planned beforehand; as soon as the target reads it, they will be on their guard?”

Mona grinned. “Right in one, Saber!” he replied. “The Palace will be on full alert once the target knows we’re coming for them, so having an infiltration and exfiltration out is essential!”

“W-wait,” Mash stammered out. “You said this is the doppelganger’s mind, right? Is there any chance we would encounter her here? Would she know of our presence?”

Joker frowned. This was where they were getting into dangerous territory. “The doppelganger won’t know we’re here, no matter what we do,” he reassured them. “As for whether we encounter her here or not… we might encounter her Shadow – her subconscious self. If the Shadow is killed, the person will also be killed as well. No one can survive without their subconscious, after all. It will induce a mental shutdown. Death often follows after that.”

Archer smirked. “Well, sounds perfect for us,” he replied. “It’s very rare we have conditions where we can pull off an assassination from an angle that no target could possibly expect. We’ll be able to take her out without anyone the wiser here. Clean and quick.” The other Servants nodded in approval.

“No.”

They all turned to Joker, who glared at everyone. “We are not killing her Shadow and that’s final,” he growled out.

Siegfried frowned. “I do not understand your hesitation,” he said. “If we are in battle, then we are to cut down our foes, are we not? How is this situation much different?”

“We’re Phantom Thieves,” Joker snapped back. “Phantom Thieves don’t kill people. We steal the Treasure and make them confess their crimes and sins. That’s it . Otherwise, we’re no better than our targets.”

“ Excusez-moi ,” Marie gently interjected. “But if that is the case… what ultimately is the difference then in killing a Servant here than killing them in the real world?”

They all turned to Joker, whose mouth opened, then closed as he blinked furiously. He tried to come up with an answer to refute them, but any words he could muster died in his throat. The realization of what was truly going on had crashed into his mind now, and it left him reeling.

He had been treating fighting Servants as the same as fighting humanoid shadows back in the Metaverse. They talked and acted, sure, but ultimately they were still just more ethereal beings than actual people. However, there was one key difference: Shadows didn’t have Palaces of their own. People were the ones who had them. And the fact that Servants had Palaces meant only one conclusion: Servants were people.

Neither he nor Morgana could say anything. They had already killed. Sure, they never landed the killing blow, but that hardly mattered. They were still responsible for the death of various Servants regardless. And that very thought dried his mouth and left him unable to respond.

“You have never killed before, have you, Master?” Saber asked softly, very quickly coming to the realization. “Whatever battles you had, you either were able to defeat beings whose deaths didn’t matter or resolved the situation without killing. You are experienced to your own methods, not the viciousness of a battlefield.”

Joker gulped and turned away. He couldn’t answer, but that was as good as confirmation to the others. The paradox in their Master was clear: He was skilled and experienced, a capable tactician and diplomat, as well as a brave and cunning fighter. Yet up until he had reached Chaldea, there had never been a reason to take a life.

Jeanne stepped forward. “Still, for now, I agree with you, Ren Amamiya,” she said. Everyone looked at her in surprise. “If there is a method to get my doppelganger to repent without her being killed, then it is worth trying.”

“It will be much harder to go through with that method than simply killing her outright,” Archer pointed out with a frown.

Jeanne smiled. “The Lord bestows many trials upon us,” Jeanne answered simply. “And His way is not always the simplest one. I refuse to believe that a doppelganger of mine is irredeemable and wish to at least try by removing the core of her sins.”

Marie clapped her hands together. “ Tres bien ! Spoken like a true saint!” she chirped. “After all, what was that old saying? ‘To err is to be human, to forgive, divine’? If we can lead a doppelganger back to the path of righteousness, then all the better, non ?”

Saber looked between the two Frenchwomen, then sighed. “Very well, we shall attempt Joker’s method,” she stated, resigned. “However, if that method becomes untenable, then we shall not hesitate. Are we agreed on this front?”

The Servants all nodded while Joker and Mona stood there silent. There was nothing they could say here. They long knew the Metaverse could be used to kill – after all, that was how Akechi facilitated many of his assassinations and killings – but they had vowed they would never take a life as a distinction from their targets. Shido in particular had used the Metaverse to further his own agenda by killing off people or driving them psychotic.

Georgios turned towards the Masters. “Amamiya, Morgana, I recognize you two are not comfortable with this,” he began. “However, when in a war, there is little option but to use every option we can get, even if it’s unpalatable. A battlefield may be cruel and unforgiving, but sometimes it is the lesser evil compared to what would happen if the opposition gains victory.” He stepped forward and placed a gauntleted hand on Joker’s shoulder. “I ask you, Amamiya – no, Joker – to see us through. We will fight by your side and help restore humanity, however we can.”

Joker looked up at the dragonslaying saint’s eyes then turned to the others. Though they were all sympathetic, they weren’t going to yield. At the very least, they were willing to go with their regular methods thanks to Jeanne, but the fact that both he and Mona killed people formed a hard pit in his stomach. Despite Georgios’s reassurances, he didn’t feel much better about the whole situation, but he was right about one thing: One way or another, they needed to get moving, or humanity would be lost.

He shoved aside his discomfort for now, allowing his metaphorical mask to slide back on. “Right, first we need the lay of the land,” he explained to the others. “Usually, Palaces have some sort of map that we can utilize. Schematics, pamphlets, things of that ilk. They’re usually in security stations or more protected areas overall if they’re not nearby. Once we have that, we can scout out a route to the Treasure and confirm it.”

Archer nodded. “I saw a guard outpost a few miles to the north of us,” he provided. “It’s possible there will be a map there. We’ll make our way through the streets. Moving by rooftops will give us away far too quickly.”

“That’s probably the best chance we’re going to get,” Mona replied, his expression determined though uneasy. “Everyone, move out. And watch out for your movements – stealth is paramount, unless we wanna get dogpiled by everything and everyone.”

With that, they began quickly and carefully traversing the frozen streets. Joker and Mona having their Phantom Thief regalia and abilities allowed them to move much faster, keeping pace with the other Servants, to the surprise of everyone who hadn’t entered Archer’s reality marble. However, any questions were forestalled by being in the open with their mission in mind. They had a long way to go, after all.

As they passed the streets, Jeanne stopped at one of the crosses lining the streets – and gasped. Hearing this, everyone else stopped as well. “Something the matter… Jeanne…” Joker asked, trailing off as he followed her gaze up the cross.

On it was a man crucified, his expressions twisted in agony, his blank eyes staring out into nothing. Ice and snow had fallen around them, making the corpse look even more wizened and gaunt. Frozen blood lined the wounds where his limbs had been nailed to the cross. Joker took a step back in horror, then looked about. There were plenty more crosses lining the streets – and all of them had people crucified on them.

“What a ghastly sight,” Mozart muttered. Marie’s normally cheerful features were pale and blank, with Elizabeth and Kiyohime looking aghast as well. Jeanne and Georgios clasped their hands together in a quiet prayer for the victims as Saber, Archer, and Siegfried looked on grimly.

“We must press forward,” Saber urged, wrenching her eyes away from the sight. “Joker, come. There’s nothing we can do for these people now.”

Joker mutely shook his head. “They’re… they’re not people,” he responded. His voice was hollow, sounding like he was reciting something more than simply talking. “These are just cognitions. They’re just facsimiles. But the fact they’re in the cognition here means that the doppelganger has seen these people and…”

“Likely killed them too,” Mona stated, his tone also hollow. “Her distortion is Hell, after all. She had no doubt they would come here.”

Saber glanced up at the cognitive victims. “Nevertheless, we cannot tarry here,” she replied. Though her words were stern, they carried a tone of softness with them. “Please, Masters. We must continue our mission, if only so her victims have some measure of peace in the end.”

Joker blinked, then nodded absentmindedly. “Right, right,” he murmured. He wrenched his eyes away from the sight as he walked forward again. The sight of the victim was burnt into his mind, however. He wasn’t about to forget that anytime soon. Mona followed close behind, shivering, though this time not from cold. They needed to continue onward.

“SOMEBODY HELP! LORD, PLEASE HAVE MERCY!”

A woman’s screech pierced the air. Archer rounded on Joker and Mona. “Could someone else have gotten in?” he asked hurriedly.

Mona shook his head. “That’s impossible!” Mona quickly replied. “No one can access the Metaverse without the app or special abilities – Joker?!”

Before anyone could say anything, Joker had already taken off down the streets toward the source of the sound. He knew it was probably just a cognition and it was probably better that they ignored it and continued on their way, but with everything that was going on, he needed to know he could save someone – anyone . Something to justify the fact that he had killed! Rounding a corner, he turned - and froze, eyes widening with horror as a splatter of blood landed on his boot.

The woman’s screams had long since gone silent, her eyes blank and unseeing, remnants of tears and recently shed blood stained her face. Three grotesque creatures feasting on the mangled remnants of her corpse, tearing into her warm almost steaming flesh, claws dripping with carnage, jaws smeared with oozing red blood and chunks of glistening yellow fat.

Joker could only back away as one tore her left arm from her torso with a fleshy snap, gnawing on it like one would a leg of chicken, audible crackling permeated the air as its maw crushed bone. Another tore open her abdomen with a sickening squelch, savoring the glistening viscera beneath. The creatures were gaunt and long, slightly larger than a person, with coal black skin mottled with red. They had sharp horns and as they feasted, their spade-like tails lashed about. Whatever they were, they didn’t resemble humans in the slightest.

As he backed away, he trod on a loose piece of ice which crunched underneath his boots. The creatures started at the noise, rapidly turning their heads toward Joker. Their yellow eyes gleamed with sadistic bloodlust as they moved toward him in anticipation of a fresher meal. Their fangs gleamed in the unnatural illumination, dripping with blood, as their claws left dark red trails on the ice underneath. Slowly, the group broke off, one in front of Joker as the other two circled to his flanks to surround him.

Gritting his teeth, he drew out his knife. His grip was tight and his limbs were shaky. Though he tore his gaze from the corpse, his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn towards the carnage in front of him. Even so, he had to focus. If he wasn’t careful here, these creatures could easily murder him. The creature on his left darted forward, much faster than he expected. He nimbly dodged to the side, the creature’s claw barely missing carving a slash on his stomach. Backflipping away, his hand moved to his mask, which burned away.

“Metatron!”

The great metal angel appeared right behind him, its holy presence immediately getting the creatures to back away. Raising its hands, beams of light shone down from above the creatures, causing them to shriek in pain and terror. Encouraged, Joker switched his knife into its gun form and took aim. With a burst of shots, the bullets found their marks in their heads and limbs, hurting and crippling them. One of them hissed in rage and charged anyway, leaping at Joker. Joker’s eyes widened. He wouldn’t have time to raise his gun –

A round of pellets struck hard at the creature’s skull, sending it flying back. Mona raced up beside Joker, his slingshot in hand. “Diego!” he cried. The blue musketeer sprang up and, tracing a pattern with his rapier, a windstorm blew up, cutting up the creatures. They turned to flee before a hailstorm of arrows thudded down, turning them into pincushions. With a gurgle, they fell still and vanished into black dust.

Mona rounded on Joker. “Joker, you should know more than any of us not to run off like that!” he yelled. “That could’ve been a dangerous situation! Just what… were you…” His eyes moved past Joker to the maimed corpse of the woman and fell silent in horror. The rest of the Servants had arrived just as the corpse also disappeared into black dust as well. “What… were they doing to her?” Mona whispered.

“They were eating her,” Joker growled, putting the gun away. “I was too late. Those creatures got to her before I did. Just what creatures were those anyway?”

“Most likely demons,” Jeanne answered, staring at the spot where the woman’s corpse was. Despite the disappearance of her body, blood still stained the ice where it had laid. “If this is Hell like my doppelganger – like I – envisioned it, then there would undoubtedly be demons here tormenting the wicked and the sinners that were cast down here.” She quietly clasped her hands and murmured a prayer for the fallen woman.

Mona looked at Joker. “Those weren’t shadows, were they?” he asked.

Joker nodded in confirmation. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Those were cognitions. No masks or anything.” He turned to Archer. “Did you see any masks on those wyverns you saw earlier?” he asked.

Archer blinked in surprise, then shook his head. “No masks,” he replied. “They were more or less like the wyverns we’ve been seeing all throughout France. Is something the matter?”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves ran a hand through his hair. “Normally, shadows manifest in Palaces,” he explained. “They take whatever form is fitting for the Palace, like those demons for example. They all usually wear some sort of mask. If you can tear off their masks, you can catch them by surprise when they take their true shape: Jack-o-lanterns, pixies, even angels or knights or other beings, depending.”

Kiyohime frowned. “Then these aren’t the same enemies you have faced before?” she asked. “What does that mean for us, then? Is it pertinent to our situation?”

Mona shook his head. “Honestly, we don’t know,” he replied worriedly. “This is the first time we’ve infiltrated a Servant’s Palace, and the outside world is way different than what we’re used to. There’s a lot of factors and considerations that honestly, neither of us have dealt with. Frankly, this Palace is almost as unfamiliar to us as it is to you guys.”

Saber frowned. “Then for the moment, our plans have not changed,” she stated. “We’ll make our way to the guard outpost and see if there’s a map we can utilize. From there, we will be able to plan our next step.” Everyone nodded. With that, they began moving again. Occasionally they came across demons, but most of them either ran or were quickly felled by the Servants as they moved.

Joker and Mona were once more reminded that Servants were just on another degree entirely. Even Mash, who was the closest to them in terms of ability, was able to maneuver and dispatch the demons with relative ease in comparison. The former had to wonder – what would this Palace be like if the other Phantom Thieves were here?

Then he thought back to the demons devouring that woman and shook the idea out of his head. He wasn’t about to subject his friends to that kind of fate, no matter what. He wouldn’t take that chance.

The guard outpost was a single, solitary tower sitting among the wooden houses. It was completely iced over, save for a single door that led inside, with a clockwise winding staircase all the way to the top. Siegfried and Georgios stood guard outside as Joker, Mona, and the rest of the Servants traversed up. The top of the tower was relatively bare. It was dimly illuminated by the outside, with frozen racks of weapons lining the walls. In the middle was a simple wooden table with a map spread out.

“Ugh, wish there was some better lighting,” Mona complained as he hopped on the table to look at the map. “Looks like this map is just for part of the city,” he stated. “It also covers part of the castle here, but not enough for us to get a clear view of where to go.” He pointed out to the corner of the map, where the outline of the walls and keep were. “From the looks of it, there’s two more guard outposts, one a couple miles to the east of us and the other to the northeast. If we get them both, we should have enough of a map to work with.”

Nodding, Joker took the map, rolling it up and tucking it into his coat pocket. There were certain items from Palaces that seemed to maintain themselves back in reality. A good portion of them was junk that he would sell to Iwai. He had no doubt the man undercut him considerably, but he also never asked questions and was the only one who would buy the items. Plus, the prices he bought the items for never varied nor did he ever demand more. And besides, the model gun seller more than paid dividends with his customization skills and his stock of weapons, which proved more than useful as equipment for Palace infiltrations.

Joker’s mind wandered for a bit. He wondered how he and Kaoru were doing. They definitely seemed a lot closer than before. The gecko pin he had given to Joker was back home in the closet – a proof that they were essentially family in all but blood. Yet another thing he wished he brought with him.

“Master, we should get moving,” Archer pointed out. Joker blinked before nodding. Right. They still had a mission to accomplish. Descending the stairs with everyone else, they stepped out back onto the streets – when a loud roar echoed throughout the city. Everyone stopped, summoning their respective weapons.

Further down the street, several demons and wyverns scampered around a corner, obviously terrified. Something massive crashed through the buildings instead. Through the cloud of ice, snow, and debris, claws shot out and snatched them. The creatures could only yelp and shriek helplessly as they were dragged in, where sounds of flesh ripping and bones breaking echoed throughout the streets.

As the cloud settled, the group could more clearly see the monstrosity. It bit into a demon, tearing it in half and devouring it in a single gulp before shoving the rest into its mouth. Fresh blood dripped from its fangs and maw as it ate, its claws bloody as well. However, as horrifying as it was, that wasn’t what got their attention. It was the creature’s appearance.

It looked exactly like Joker’s Satan persona.

The cognitive Satan looked up after finishing its meal and laid its eyes on the group. Its baleful gaze bore down on them, sending chills up Joker and Morgana’s spine. Then it roared and began slithering towards them on its serpentine body, clawing at the streets to gain more speed and ground. Archer loosed an explosive arrow. The explosion sent a shockwave through the air as it collided with the monstrosity… and didn’t slow it down even an inch.

Joker paled. They were in no way, shape, or form to fight a cognitive creature like THAT right now! Their formation and battleground were all wrong. There was only one option.

“Everyone, RUN!”

Chapter Text

“Okay, I think we’re safe here.”

The group had managed to find a safe room as they bolted from the Satan cognition. Mona had pointed it out as they ran and, lacking any better options, all of them piled in without question. They heard the stomping and crashing of the cognition growing louder as it drew closer… and faded as it moved away. Everyone was panting, catching their breath, and at Mona’s announcement (who had his ear at the door), everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good catch, Mona,” Joker panted. “That was too close.”

“Still, how did you know this place would be safe?” Siegfried asked, looking around with a frown. The room they were in was frosted over as opposed to frozen, with cruder wooden chairs and tables strewn about. Then the image of the room flickered, revealing a dilapidated ruin of a house, the furniture all burnt and broken, before flicking back to its frosted, ruined state. The dragonslayer blinked in surprise. “What on…?”

“This place is a safe room,” Mona explained. “It’s where the cognition of the Palace’s Ruler – in this case, the doppelganger Jeanne – is weaker than most. I wasn’t taking too close a look before, but there are actually a lot of safe rooms in the city. It makes sense – nobody’s going to remember every single room of every single building in a city. That’s just ridiculous.”

He turned to Joker. “But we have bigger concerns right now,” Mona muttered. “Joker, what the hell was that?! That was your Satan persona we just saw out there!”

Joker held up his hands in innocence. “Hey, I had nothing to do with that one this time!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t even summon him at all in this Palace!”

“Wait,” Georgios interjected. “You make it sound like this is Ren’s fault. How is that the case? And you called it… Satan? I wish to believe the names are a coincidence, but I doubt this. Can you explain, please?”

The two Masters looked over at Georgios from their argument and glanced at each other. Joker sighed. “It’s part of my… abilities,” Joker explained. “I can summon cognitive versions of certain beings from mythologies and religions and use their power. They’re not real – it’s basically the version that’s in the collective unconsciousness’s minds is probably the best way to put it. I pulled this out on the doppelganger a lot earlier, and I’m guessing I must’ve really scared her; this is the first time I’ve seen a persona like that as someone’s cognition.”

Georgios, Kiyohime, and Elizabeth could only blink, dumbfounded. “There was not a single lie in what you just said,” Kiyohime whispered. “Master of Chaldea… who – no, what are you?”

Joker could only give a tired smile as he sat down heavily on a nearby crate. “Honestly?” he replied bluntly. “Someone who’s been in far too many life-threatening situations than a teenager should ever have to go through.”

He looked up at the Berserker. “You’re asking me what I am, Kiyohime? I’m a guy from modern Japan fighting in medieval France alongside superhumans, including two saints, a fabled king, a dragonslayer, someone who can shoot exploding arrows and swords, and way more, against the doppelganger of one of said saints who can command dragons and zombies, trying to restore humanity that’s apparently been incinerated last week. Frankly, I’d like to think I’m the most ordinary guy here at this point.”

The Servants all looked at one another uncomfortably. This was the most forthright they had seen their Master. Morgana himself hopped up to the crate and sat beside Ren, placing a paw on his arm. Ren only smiled in return and gently patted his friend, getting quiet purrs in return. Mash twiddled her hands, wanting to approach but unsure how to do so.

Jeanne sighed. “He is telling the truth,” she confirmed. “The beings he conjures are not real, but because of what everyone believes them to be, we cannot help but perceive them as such. No doubt my doppelganger believes the same.”

“But how would it frighten your doppelganger?” Saber asked. “If your doppelganger has renounced God and her faith, then it shouldn’t have such a profound effect on her.”

Jeanne frowned, lowering her head in thought. Then she turned back to Joker. “Ren, could you perhaps summon Satan once more?”

Joker blinked in surprise. “Is that a good idea?” he asked warily.

“There is something I wish to check,” she explained. “If so, it shall be instrumental in knowing what frightened my doppelganger so. I do not wish to force you, but if you are able to, then please.”

The Master of Chaldea made no reply. He looked over to Mona for a suggestion. The catlike being frowned in thought, then sighed. “I don’t suppose it’ll hurt, but I’ll back you up if something happens,” he resignedly admitted. He glared at the Servants. “All of you get to the far side of the room, and no funny business, got it?!” he snapped.

The Servants blinked but immediately obeyed. They moved to the far side of the room, leaving Joker plenty of room to work with while Mona kept a wary eye. Joker noted that Archer was still close to the door and was paying more attention to it than him. He was probably keeping guard still. But the fact that Archer cared more about intruders than him meant one particular thing: He trusted him. That… was an odd feeling.

Pushing the feeling aside for now, he stood up from the crate and moved to the far side of the room. Moving Satan to the forefront of his mind, he moved his hand to his face, the mask burning off once more as he called forth the persona.

“Satan.”

With a burst of flame, the blue monstrosity appeared sprang into being. Though spectral and ethereal, it still took up a lot of space and barely fit within the safe room. The response was immediate: All the Servants instinctively started, lowering themselves into a combat stance at the presence of an aspect of the Devil.

However, none had as profound a reaction as Elizabeth. The Lancer immediately collapsed on her rear, staring up at the persona with naked fear, her teeth chattering as she trembled. Seeing her reaction, Joker immediately released his power, allowing it to fade away. The Servants collected themselves, shooting apprehensive looks at the Master. Joker, in turn, walked forward and offered a hand to Elizabeth. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. “You alright?”

Elizabeth blinked up at Ren, then blushed as she took his hand to help her stand up. “O-o-of course, p-p-puppy!” she stuttered, trying to reclaim her bravado (though her shaking legs very much undercut that notion). “A-a-an idol d-d-d-doesn’t give in t-t-t-to fear s-s-so easily, nope!”

Joker nodded with a smirk. “True enough,” he admitted. “You’re making good steps towards being a great idol at this rate, Elizabeth.” At the compliment, she turned even redder and looked away, unable to form any more words. The display helped defrost the tension that had been fostering among the Servants as it gave way to amusement or exasperation towards the antics of the two.

“Elizabeth, if you do not mind me asking,” Jeanne interjected. “Why did you collapse? We all had a reaction, of course, to the being Ren conjured, but none of us had as intense a reaction as you did.”

The Lancer gaped, then scowled and pointed to where the persona had been. “Because it was a big monster that looked exactly like the one we just saw!” she screeched. “I’m a brave idol, but I’m not brave enough for that! Excuse me, saint, for being scared to death of it!”

“I would be wary of your words, Elizabeth Bathory,” Kiyohime murmured, her eyes sharp and her voice tinged with anger. “You do not lie, but neither was that the whole truth. Speak plainly or not at all.”

Elizabeth gaped at the Berserker’s blunt words, then groaned in frustration. “Fine, fine!” she snapped. Then she lowered her head. “It felt like… I was being judged,” she murmured, her voice tiny. “For all my sins: Past, present, and future. Like I was going to be condemned and tormented for eternity. It… it felt like Judgment Day for me. It’s… it’s why I wanted to be an idol. I don’t wanna follow that road. Not again…” Her eyes were tearing up as she hugged herself, trying to suppress the tremors in her body.

Georgios strode forward and placed a comforting hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “To choose a new path away from your sins is one so few will follow,” he complimented kindly. “Your resolve is admirable, and I’ve no doubt you’ll see it through.”

The Lancer blinked up at Georgios in surprise, then wiped away the tears while flipping her hair. “N-naturally!” she boasted, her bravado returning despite the telltale tremor in her voice. “I’m gonna be Elizabeth Bathory, the number one idol! And I’ll let nothing stand in my way of that!”

The dragonslaying saint smiled at her newfound resolve, then turned back to Jeanne. “What do you think?” he asked the Ruler. “That was an aspect of the Devil that Ren has summoned, no doubt, but I didn’t feel… repulsed by it, overall.”

Jeanne nodded slowly, frowning in thought. “Yes,” she murmured. “Its countenance was extraordinarily stern, but… fair. It did not feel like a tempter or evil.” She lowered her head, thinking back to her lessons and sermons at church. “It is said that the Devil is one who torments the wicked and the cruel,” she mused. “Perhaps that is the aspect Ren has summoned? A punisher and tormentor of sinners? Er-“ She turned to Elizabeth. “Apologies for offending you, Elizabeth-“

The Lancer waved away the apology. “Yeah, I know I’m a sinner, and a monstrous one too,” she sighed. “That's why I want to be an idol nowadays. I don’t wanna do that anymore.”

“Um, right,” Jeanne stammered. Taking a breath to regain her composure, she continued. “Perhaps that is why we aren’t as adversely affected then?” she asked, looking around the room. “We are not considerable sinners in that regard and only reacted because of the fear of the Devil.” Everyone looked at each other. There seemed to be a solid argument, if only because there really wasn’t an explanation otherwise.

Joker looked at the deliberating Servants, then sighed. “There’s… one more aspect of the Devil I’m utilizing,” he hesitatingly called out, garnering the attention of the other Servants. “We probably could test that theory right now, if you guys want. I’m gonna warn you again though: It’s just a cognition, not the actual thing, so I’m trusting you guys not to kill me on the spot. Alright?”

The Servants all looked at each other. Jeanne nodded to the Master. “I swear, we shall not allow harm to come to you in this circumstance, Ren Amamiya,” she vowed. Joker looked at the other Servants who, while they seemed uneasy, didn’t dispute the argument or the decision. Mona still stood guard, ready in case someone tried something. Well, it was now or never. He switched to the most powerful persona he currently held in his mind and brought his hand once more to his face.

“Lucifer.”

In a flash of blue flame, another large figure appeared. Resembling a muscular yet emaciated man with dark gray skin, it had flowing blonde hair which contrasted with its powerful red eyes. Large, sharp horns jutted out from its forehead. Three great pairs of demonic wings were on its back, and his body was loosely wrapped by a flowing white cloth. While the figure was completely naked, its body had no discerning parts whatsoever, making it look far more inhuman despite its shape.

This time, the response from the Servants was far more drastic. Marie shrieked as Mozart quickly backpedaled into the wall. Saber, Archer, Siegfried, and Mash immediately summoned their weapons, facing the persona. Elizabeth followed suit albeit a bit haltingly, while Kiyohime glared daggers at it, the temperature around her rising quickly.

However, the most striking response came from the saints. Jeanne brandished her flag as Georgios immediately drew his sword. They both looked pale and fearful, horrified at the sight of Lucifer. Joker, seeing everyone’s reactions, immediately cut the connection, allowing the persona to fade away to nothing. A tense few seconds ticked by as everyone held their breaths before finally, their weapons were slowly lowered.

“That was… That was…” Jeanne panted, her hand to her chest. Her eyes were still wide as her skin started regaining their pallor.

“Without a doubt, the Devil, albeit in the aspect he’s more known for,” Georgios concluded as he sheathed his blade, his breath shaky. “The malevolence and weight of the sin I felt from that being was unmistakable. Its nature is far too unstable to be relied upon.” He turned to Joker. “You said the name of that aspect was Lucifer?”

Joker nodded. As he recalled, Lucifer was the original name of the Devil, meaning ‘Lightbringer’. He only became the Devil after he rebelled against God and was cast down from Heaven as a result. After that, different religions had different takes on him, but in general he was either cast as a figure of true evil, or another figure under God’s command to tempt humanity as well as punish sinners.

Jeanne stood back up, collecting herself as her flagpole vanished once more. “At least that concludes my theory,” she murmured. “They are different aspects of the Devil, not the Devil himself.” She glanced over at the Master. “I advise you for your sake, Ren, to never summon that particular aspect,” she sternly warned him. “The evil I felt from it was unmistakable. Should you bring him to bear, I do not doubt you shall make many enemies from the misunderstanding.”

“Yep, already ahead of you on that,” Joker muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He was thinking back of when he had that nervous breakdown back when the Servants first confronted him about Satan. He had been on the cusp of summoning Lucifer before Mona knocked him out. That had been an extremely close call. If he did summon Lucifer that time, it was all too likely that any future interactions with his Servants would be… tense, in the best-case scenario. He had seriously dodged a bullet there. He made a mental note to give Mona some of the finest curry he could make when they finally got back from this singularity.

“Right, now that that’s explained and taken care of, we should get to planning,” Archer drawled. He resumed leaning on the wall beside the door. He and Siegfried shared one glance before the dragonslayer took the other side. Meanwhile, the other Servants gathered around the table as Mona pulled out the map and laid it on the table.

“Right, there’s one guard outpost over here,” he stated, pointing to a corner of the map where the circular building was situated. “There’s another one a bit north of that one. It’s not on the map though – probably on the next map.” He tapped the empty spot where the guard outpost’s estimated spot would be. “Normally, I’d say we hit the next guard outpost together, get the map, then move on to the last one, but with that cognitive Satan outside, we might not be able to. A larger group might draw its attention again.”

“Still, it may be unwise to split our numbers,” Saber mused, quickly realizing Mona’s idea. “Having our combined strength together may allow us to fend off the creature, buying us time to reach the guard outposts. Not to mention, there might be other ambushes and traps within the city that we are not yet aware of.”

“Probably, but it’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Mona replied, frowning. “Palaces always have security, and if it gets too high, it means the subconscious will be aware of us and forcefully kick us out. We can’t afford that unless we want everything to be a massive waste of time. Not to mention, smaller groups have a better chance of sneaking past Satan’s attention.” He pointed to a midway point between the two guard outposts. “There should be a safe room or so here,” he said. “We can rendezvous once we have the maps, get a clear picture, and then proceed from there.”

It was a risky plan without a doubt, but there was little in terms of options at this point. They needed to move quickly before the subconscious could be fully aware of their presence and before the doppelganger could muster her forces for an all-out attack while they were still stuck here. With much deliberation, they split into two teams.

The first team would be heading to the eastern outpost. It consisted of Mona, Marie, Mozart, Elizabeth, Saber, and Jeanne. It was a mapped-out area, meaning they could find a clear path toward the tower or any detours as necessary. It was better to take the less capable combatants and use the safer, shorter path, with Saber being the proverbial muscle if push came to shove during the route.

The second team would be heading to the northeast outpost. Joker, Mash, Siegfried, Georgios, Kiyohime, and Archer would be heading there. The area was unmapped and relatively unknown. Archer’s scouting capabilities combined with support and foreknowledge from Joker would be essential. Mash would be needed to protect Joker, and Siegfried and Georgios provided a solid fighting force, with Kiyohime providing no small amount of backup. It would bring them perilously close to the castle but there wasn’t much option there either – detouring around the castle would simply take too much time.

Before they all left, Joker and Mona took out and distributed the flashbangs and smoke bombs they had received from Da Vinci between the two groups. Joker had been holding the majority but now wasn’t the time to be sparing with them. Each group had two flashbangs and two smoke bombs. The smoke bombs were to be used as either an escape or to ambush the enemy as needed. The flashbangs, however, had another purpose.

“If you guys need help or backup, toss this straight up,” Joker explained. “A Servant should be able to throw these pretty high, so we’ll all be able to see and hear it. It won’t leave a smoke trail, but I doubt that’ll be necessary with how fast everyone is.” Everyone nodded. Even a low ranked Servant’s agility was far faster than a normal human, and thanks to their Phantom Thief regalia and abilities, both Joker and Mona could also keep pace as well.

As they stepped outside, Mona pointed to the room they exited. “See the fuzziness around the edges of the doors?” he asked. The Servants looked and indeed, the door looked blurry and wavy to their eyes. “That, and the feel of it, is how you identify a safe room,” he stated. “If you guys need to take shelter, duck into the nearest one. Cognitions and shadows can’t follow you in there.”

Joker looked back at the group. “Alright, we have our missions and the plan,” he said. “Let’s get to it. It’s showtime.” With that, everyone broke up into their individual groups. The first team marched east with Mona in the lead while group two made quick progress towards the north before they would cut east as well. It was a straightforward, simple plan that would get them what they needed and allow them to figure out the next step.

So everyone knew something was going to go wrong.

----------

Mona led his group confidently through the winding frozen walkways of the Orleans back streets. The main roads would be a straight shot, but it was also wide open. The Satan cognition could easily spot them if they moved there. Thus, they maneuvered between alleys and narrow streets. Of course, that presented its own challenges: Demons lurked about, ready and waiting to ambush them. In the narrow streets with ruined buildings, open doors and windows, and tight corners, it was all too harrowing.

As such, the formation became Mona scouting ahead, Saber as the vanguard, Marie and Mozart in the middle, with Jeanne and Elizabeth taking up the rearguard. The catlike Master crouched down beside a wall as he peered around a corner. He moved back to the others. “Two demons,” he quickly reported. “One patrolling the streets, and one clinging onto the underside of a roof, probably to ambush anyone trying to take out the first demon.”

Saber nodded before darting ahead. The first demon only had time to turn its head toward the Servant before it was cleaved in two by her invisible sword. As the second demon detached from the ceiling to pounce on her, she turned around and with that momentum swung upward. Two halves of the demon fell on either side of her, landing on the icy road like a wet splat. The others quickly caught up, Mona giving a nod of appreciation to the Saber before once more scouting ahead.

Elizabeth glanced over at Jeanne. The saint was keeping watch but she seemed distracted. Following her eyes, she noticed that she was looking at the frozen crucified victims that lined the roads and smaller courtyards that dotted throughout their path.

She sighed, annoyed. “Saint or not, we’re not gonna stop at every victim to pray for them,” Elizabeth scoffed. “From what the puppy and kitty said, they’re not even real anyway. If you’re gonna pray, you’re better off doing it in the actual city, not the head of a crazy doppelganger.”

Jeanne blinked at the Lancer’s words, then shook her head. “N-no, that wasn’t why I was looking at them,” she replied. “I was trying to see if any of these victims were familiar to me or were someone I knew. If this is my doppelganger’s mind, then I should see someone I know here.”

Elizabeth stared, then sighed. “Look, I know how awesome your legend is – pretty sure everyone knows it at this point – but you can’t seriously expect to memorize every single fan or follower of yours,” she snapped. “Heck, as an idol, even I can barely remember my fans’ faces! There’s just too many of them for me to keep track of! Are you seriously expecting to find some random nobody from the masses among the bodies here? Come on, there’s limits to being a celebrity, you know.”

The saint shook her head as they marched forward. “No, not like that,” she replied, brushing off the countess’s attitude. “It’s just… if this is truly my doppelganger, I should know some faces here. There have been people in my life that I still remember clearly. The commanders as I argued with them over battle plans. My men as we ate dinner and talked about their days and lives. The Dauphin, who I helped raise as king of France. And…” She trailed off.

The Lancer raised an eyebrow in question. “And?” she prodded.

“My family,” Jeanne whispered. “My mama and papa. My brothers and sister. Even throughout my long campaign, following His will and command, they have never left my prayers. I missed them dearly.” She looked up at the victims once more. “Yet all these faces are unfamiliar to me. There is nobody here I recognize, despite passing by many victims of my doppelganger’s rampage.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Wait, then what are you saying?” she demanded.

Jeanne gulped. “Perhaps…” she mused. “Perhaps this doppelganger of mine isn’t my doppelganger at all.”

“While this is a most interesting conversation, ladies, perhaps it’d be better suited once we’ve reached safety?” Mozart interrupted, his eyes darting around as he nervously fiddled with his conductor’s baton. “I do not wish for my most recent piece to be a requiem, especially one centered around me. I've got far too much music to write!”

“That or whatever other nonsense you have in your mind, my dear Mozart,” Marie sighed, walking beside him. Despite the gentle smile on her face, the tension in her body was evident. “But not to fear, we’re coming up on the tower now. Once we have the map, then off we trot!”

“I fear it may not be so easy,” Saber muttered.

Before anyone could ask, Mona came running back almost on cue. “I didn’t see any more demons,” he reported. “We’ll have to cross the street and get to the tower. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, except I saw three frozen crucifixes in front of the door. I don’t like the looks of them.”

Saber frowned. “No doubt guards or sentries of some sort,” she quickly concluded. “We must be swift, whether in securing the map and fleeing or defeating them before we continue. Did you spot a way around them?”

Mona shook his head. “No easy path that I could see,” he replied. “There’s only one way in and one way out. Easy to guard.”

Jeanne nodded, her face grim. “Then we have no choice but to fight,” she replied. “Let us proceed and figure out our plan from there.” Everyone advanced. Turning one more corner, the alley opened to a street. Directly ahead of them was the guard outpost. In front of the door stood three pillars of ice, with crucifixes barely visible within. Most of the other crucifixes lined the streets and were often fully or partially exposed. Mona seemed to correct: They were guards of some sort.

As they stepped cautiously towards the guard outpost. A crack of ice issued through the dead air, stopping the group. More cracks appeared on the three ice pillars, then they shattered in an explosion of ice. The victims mounted on the crucifixes pulled themselves off their crosses and landed on the ground. Their hands and legs had bleeding holes in them where they had been nailed to the wood, but it didn’t seem to hinder them at all as a faint black fog surrounded them. The three victims each summoned their own weapons: a rapier, a scepter, and an executioner’s sword.

“You again?!” Mona cried in disbelief.

Chevalier d’Eon gave a friendly smile. “Bonjour, monsieur cat,” they greeted pleasantly. “I have strict orders not to let anyone pass us here – as well as to cut down all intruders. So I must ask that you-“

“YOU!”

The fencer blinked as Elizabeth stomped forward and glared hatefully at the berserk Assassin – Carmilla. “I finally found you!” she snarled. “You’re going around spoiling my name! As an idol, I’m not gonna let that pass! Come on you old hag, I’m taking you out!”

Carmilla scoffed. “Was I truly this uncouth and impetuous as a child?” she asked in disbelief. “How unsightly. But an idol? Utter nonsense. You cannot hide from what you are and what you’ve done, Elizabeth Bathory. I have at least learned to accept and relish it, as is my right as a countess. I have sought beauty everlasting and shall seek it evermore. And I shall carve that lesson into you, cut by bloody cut. You may be a young maiden, but I do not require your blood. Only your life.”

“Ah, Marie, most pleasant to see you again,” Sanson greeted, a serene smile across his lips. “We were interrupted last time. But now, we shall have this stage to ourselves. Please, come, allow me to show you bliss once more with the edge of my blade. My sword is finely honed for you, Marie.”

Then he scowled at the Caster. “Mozart, I must ask that you take your leave. I do not have the patience or mercy for you. Interfere and I shall make sure your end is gruesome and painful.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “Why must I always be surrounded by perverts?” she demanded, stomping her foot. “Sanson, non. I accepted my execution then and felt nothing when you felled me. Certainly not pleasure! I will rid you of that disgusting notion right now!”

“Indeed, Maria,” Mozart agreed. “Come! As it turns out, I do have to write a requiem - for the lot of you! I shall compose it at the speed of sound!”

Saber lifted her sword. “How did her Servants get in?” she demanded, not taking her eyes off their opponents.

Mona shook his head as he brought out his scimitar. “They’re not the actual Servants,” he pointed out. “They’re cognitions! We don’t know how strong they are, so everyone be careful!”

With that, the three cognitions charged forward, weapons ready to strike.

----------

Joker ran by himself through the icy streets, glancing behind him for his pursuer. The ambush happened almost immediately, and with such ferocity that none of them had seen it coming until it was too late. He didn’t know where everyone else was. He could only hope they were doing alright. For now, he knew they were in a bad situation – separated and without any clue to their surroundings, they were just ready to be picked off.

Turning a corner, he pressed his back flat against the wall, catching his breath. Hauntingly beautiful organ music echoed through the air. For some reason, he felt far weaker than he usually did, even in the real world. The feeling of weakness started when they all heard the organ. He needed to find the source, but the music was echoing through the icy buildings so much it was almost impossible to tell its direction. Getting to the rooftops would be the best way to do that, but that had been a mistake. Now he had a pursuer and lost track of everyone else.

Joker scowled. He would have to risk it again. If he didn’t take down that musician, they would all be in deep trouble. He could only hope everyone else was handling themselves okay. Raising a hand, he began aiming his grappling hook at the rooftops once more when he heard a cracking beside him. He only had time to glance over before a figure exploded through the wall. Barely raising his knife in time, Joker was shoved back further down the alley, colliding hard against a wall. And before him, wielding his tainted greatsword once more…

“AAAAAAARRRTHUUUUURRRRRR!!!!!!”

Chapter Text

Joker was confident about his combat ability. Throughout his Metaverse adventures, he had directed and led his friends through many battles. He fought against the cognitive Shido one-on-one when the man was pushed to the corner. His Wild Card abilities allowed him to take advantage of any enemy’s weaknesses, allowing him to quickly secure openings and quickly bring an enemy down. He always had his friends backing him up, with Morgana, Futaba, and Makoto providing much-needed combat intel, allowing him to quickly form strategies.

However, that all meant nothing when faced with the Berserker. Howling, the black knight charged forward, the ice breaking underneath his grieves as he brandished his sword. Joker thought that a madman’s sword swings would be easy to dodge, but that was hardly the case – far too often, he only dodged by a hair’s breadth. The blade was wielded with precision and skill of a master swordsman. A careless dodge meant the knight gained another foot on him. Once, the tip barely grazed his front, and yet he felt all the weaker for it as his persona absorbed the damage.

He scowled. Cu Chulainn was already at the forefront of his mind with his resistance to physical attacks but that only barely helped. The Berserker’s attacks just came far too thick and fast for him to do much. He fired off a few shots but the bullets were deflected by the knight’s armor without slowing him down even a little. He needed just one small opening to finish it quickly.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a smoke bomb and tossed it at his feet just as the knight lunged, roaring. Out exploded a thick, black smoke that was far more blinding than even Joker had anticipated. He aimed up and shot his grappling hook, which attached itself to the side of a roof. It retraced and pulled, moving him with only split seconds to spare as the blade came down where his head was just a moment ago.

Flipping forward, he landed on his feet behind as the knight swiveled around, roaring. It would only be disoriented for a split second, but that was all he needed.

“Cu Chulainn!”

The armored warrior once more sprang into being. It crouched down low, grinning madly, as its red spear began glowing with the power being gathered. There wasn’t any time to play around. This might be overkill, but he needed this to end with one shot. The only comfort he had with using this ability was that it was just a cognition in front of him, not the actual Servant. The knight whirled about at the feeling of power in the air, roaring in rage, but it was too late.

“Gae Bolg!”

The Persona charged forward, lunging with the red spear. The Berserker raised its blade to deflect the blow. However, it was pointless – the Gae Bolg was a spear that reversed causality. The motion of thrusting was merely a formality. Once the Noble Phantasm was invoked, the victim’s heart was pierced, with no way to defend or avoid the blow. The spear was a bending red line as it streaked past the knight’s blade, pierced the armor, and sank deep into its chest, transfixing the knight.

Neither warrior moved for a few seconds. The persona then withdrew its spear before fading away, causing blood to spray from the Berserker’s new wound that splattered onto the ice below. The knight’s only response was to shudder before going still, the red light in its visor winking out. The only sound that echoed through the streets and buildings now was the reverberating notes of the haunting organ.

Joker breathed a sigh of relief, wincing as he felt his strength drop from the use of the Noble Phantasm. It didn’t drain quite as much as he expected, but it was still a considerable drop, nevertheless. He couldn’t use it too many times in a row without incapacitating himself. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he tried to use it outside the Metaverse. Chances were good he’d drop dead on the spot.

He glanced where the armored knight still stood. With its heart pierced, the Berserker should disappear before long. He once more aimed his grappling hook toward the roof when he heard the creaking of armor again. That was the only warning he had before the knight’s visor’s malevolent light flashed and with a howl, charged at Ren. Caught off guard, he was too slow to react – the knight grabbed him by the head in a vice-like grip and lifted him in the air.

Screaming, Joker tried to pry off the knight’s hand, but it was far too strong. He tried kicking, but his boots just bounced off its armor. The pain shattered whatever concentration he needed to summon his personas. It felt like his head would be crushed like a grape! Through its fingers, he could still see the Berserker as it raised its blade. His eyes widened as he fought with renewed desperate vigor, but the knight didn’t budge an inch. He was going to be gutted like a fish-!

“SENPAI!”

Something crashed hard into the Berserker’s back, forcing it to drop Ren with a roar of pain. Taking the opportunity, Joker staggered away, his head throbbing and spinning, his vision bleary. He could hardly focus. The sounds of crashing metal behind him brought fresh waves of torment to his brain. He took his hands from his head and looked. His gloves were a bit darker now. No. They were stained. Was it… blood? His own blood?

“S-SENPAI! GET IT TOGETHER! PLEASE!”

Blinking, he turned around. Everything was a bit hazy. His eyes blinked underneath his mask, trying to focus. There was that black knight, roaring as it hacked away at a new target. She was barely fending it off, each blow sending her shield careening away before she yanked it to another position, only just blocking the next strike. Each attack forced her to give more and more ground, her face the picture of desperation. Yet despite everything, she only took her eyes off the knight once – to look at him.

It cost her.

With a roar, the Berserker’s sword slammed into the side of the shield. The sheer momentum of the blow flung her right into the side of a building, sending her crashing against the wall. Razor sharp icicles fell free from the edges of the roof. Her eyes widened, but before she could lift her shield, the knight charged her again. She knelt as she raised her shield to brace herself.

The icicles rained down, slicing into parts of her exposed skin, causing her to cry in pain as the knight battered away at her shield. “SENPAI!” she screamed.

Joker blinked, his mind quickly falling back into place. Within moments, he saw the situation: Mash was currently pinned down by the Berserker, who was madly whaling away at her, and unable to do anything. Cursing himself, he quickly raised a hand to his face once more as his mask burned off.

“Cu Chulainn!”

The persona once more sprang into existence, lunging at the mad knight. The Berserker whirled around, its profaned blade meeting the red spear of the Irish hero in a furious clash. Meanwhile, Joker dashed forward, grabbing Mash and pulling her to safety. “Mash!” he called out. “Are you alright?”

Mash blinked, then nodded. “Minimal damage, Master,” she responded quickly, turning back towards the fight. Joker glanced at the Shielder. The icicles had left cuts on her body, the wounds weeping blood. He mentally cursed himself. Letting his guard down for even one moment was a mistake, and someone got hurt because of it.

Mentally directing his persona, he made sure the knight was turned away from them before cutting the connection, the Berserker now swinging at empty air. Quickly switching, he called out another persona.

“Maria!”

The carved relief of the saint appeared once more. At the presence of the holy figure, the Berserker turned once more and roared, though it was hesitant to charge or even step forward. Joker blinked with surprise, then tossed the feeling aside. This was their opening. The relief glowed with power, illuminating both Joker and Mash in a green light as a refreshing spring breeze flowed around them. The pain of their injuries receded as all their wounds were healed. A measure of energy was restored as well, which surprised Joker, though the feeling was fleeting.

“Thank you, senpai,” Mash called out gratefully, sighing with relief as the cuts sealed themselves. Joker nodded before analyzing the situation. Neither of them were in the best condition, thanks to the infernal organ, and the Berserker was only held at bay by the presence of Maria. Thankfully it was far less taxing to keep her out in the Metaverse than it was in the real world, but it wouldn’t hold the knight for long. It was extremely strong and skilled. Fighting it wouldn’t be easy, not without the other Servants.

“Did you see any of the others?” Joker asked, never taking his eyes off the Berserker, who was currently standing stock still, staring up at the persona.

Mash shook her head. “After the ambush, I lost track of everyone,” she answered sadly. “I thought I saw one or two enemy Servants, but they moved too fast and I lost track. I heard your battle though and raced here as fast as I could.”

Joker flashed her a grateful smile. “Well, you came at the best time possible, Mash,” he said earnestly. “Thanks. A bit longer and things would’ve gotten really bad for me.” Mash blushed and nodded quickly before focusing back on the Berserker, who was steadily getting more and more impatient. The hole in its chest was still dripping out blood but that didn’t hinder it at all, seemingly. The presence of Maria wasn’t going to hold him for long.

Before he could think of anything, the sword vanished from the Berserker’s hands. Black fog started emitting from his armor as another weapon appeared in its hands. It was large, cylindrical, with multiple barrels-

Both Joker and Mash’s eyes widened at the gatling gun pointed directly at them. “Senpai, behind me!” Mash shouted as she surged forward, raising her shield. The knight howled as the gun began firing, sending an endless river of bullets in their direction. The sound of metal crashing on metal was deafening as they collided with the shield like a hail of steel. Mash gritted her teeth. It was taking all her might to just remain standing against the gun, let alone push against it. But surely, it would run out of ammo soon-!

“Cu Chulainn!”

Mash’s eyes opened at Joker’s call. Something flew past her and crashed, the sound of two metal weapons meeting much closer than she anticipated. The pressure on her shield vanished, allowing her to lower it and witness what was happening: That armored warrior she had seen Senpai summon once before, wielding its red spear, fending off the gatling gun of the Berserker who had charged in and was using it as a club.

“Mash, focus! I can’t do this by myself!”

She whirled about and saw her Senpai. Although he wore those dapper clothes, things had changed a bit. The bright red gloves he wore were stained with blood, leaving ugly dark splotches on the fabric. Underneath his mask, his normally grey eyes were a shade of almost demonic red, watching the fight. It was only a short time since she first saw him in that reality marble but to her, he had already… changed.

But there was time to contemplate that later. She whirled about, raising her shield. The armored warrior was still fending off the Berserker but was steadily losing ground to the Berserker’s onslaught as it wielded its gatling gun like a club. She charged forward, dashing to the knight’s flank as she raised her shield with a wild cry.

In response, the Berserker shoved the armored warrior away before swinging the gun down at her instead. The blow sent her crashing to her knees, but she still held. With a roar, she tilted her shield, causing the gun to smash down on the icy ground instead and throwing the Berserker off balance. It would’ve only taken a split second for the knight to simply pick the gun back up or retreat… had a red spear not shot through the air and pierced its side. The Berserker howled in rage and reached for the spear.

“Awesome job, Mash!” Joker called out. The Cu Chulainn persona, who had just thrown his spear, faded away along with its weapon, leaving the Berserker grasping at empty air – though it didn’t change the fact that now it had a second gaping wound. There wouldn’t be another chance as good as this. He needed to keep the Berserker from gaining any momentum or they would be screwed. But if the enemy was this mad, then perhaps…

“Bugs!”

A large teddy bear burst into being behind Joker. However, its inherent cuteness was undercut by multiple features: Blood was leaking and dripping from its fanged jaws, soaking into the fabric. A bronze collar was around its neck. Its belly was torn open from its patchwork stitching, revealing a collection of skulls within as opposed to stuffing. The bear raised its stubby arms, and suddenly bright lights and shapes warped into being around the knight, causing the Berserker to clutch its head, shrieking in pain.

“Don’t let up on your attacks!” Joker barked. The Shielder blinked, then nodded. Charging in, she aimed her shield at the opening in the Berserker’s armor. The punctured armor caved in as the shield sank into the flesh underneath, causing the knight to give a gurgled squawk of pain. It growled but before it could retaliate, another explosion of colors and shapes burst into being, once more causing the Berserker to howl in agony.

His guess had been right on the mark. With the incoherent rage that Berserker had been showing, it proved to be susceptible to psychic attacks. He had thought about summoning Succubus to lull it to sleep once more, but he decided against it – he wasn’t sure if the sheer madness of the black knight would nullify it, and even if he did fall asleep, he wasn’t sure both him and Mash could finish it in one shot.

Thus, it became a pattern - Joker using Psiodyne to disorient and hurt the Berserker, while Mash took the opportunity to pummel the open Servant, and Joker striking Berserker again with Psiodyne to keep it off balance. There was no way for it to regain momentum, halted by the unorthodox magic of Joker and the sheer physical force of Mash’s blows. Before long, it was a battered, broken mess on the ground that swiftly dissolved into black ash.

Joker held his head to force back a small headache and dizziness. It was a pain he was familiar with – the backlash of utilizing his Personas extremely often. He wished he brought some coffee with him. That usually helped considerably restore some energy in the Metaverse. But all they had were the rations and it wasn’t a good time to eat right now. Especially with the organ music still blaring out in the distance.

“Good work, Mash,” he replied, smiling gratefully at the Shielder who was walking back to him. The girl wearily smiled and nodded back. Joker glanced up at the sky, frowning. “Much as I want to go after the musician, we need to find the others,” he growled. “I’m not taking our chances getting any closer in case there’s some other surprise for us.”

Mash blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Understood, senpai,” she said. “Can we contact the doctor and perhaps get their positions?”

Joker checked the communicator on his wrist. “No dice,” he grimly answered, showing it to her. It was off which caught Mash by surprise. The Chaldea communicator was designed to work with its own power supply and backup systems. It also had plenty of various stress tests to make sure it functioned in any environment possible. “Electronics don’t work for the most part in the Metaverse,” he explained. “Even my phone doesn’t work except for the Metaverse Navigator app. We’re on our own here.”

He thought about throwing a flash bomb up but decided against it. If there were other enemy Servants patrolling, it would quickly give them away. Running around blindly in the streets and alleys was just begging to be ambushed if they moved quickly or take far too long if they moved too slowly and cautiously. There was only one decent option here. “Mash, come here for a sec and hold on tight,” he told her.

Mash blinked in surprise and hesitatingly stepped toward him. Before she could ask what Joker needed, he wrapped an arm around her waist and shot his grappling hook. It quickly secured itself to a nearby rooftop and began pulling. The demi-Servant could only squeak and hang onto her senpai for dear life as they were both hoisted into the air. Joker utilized the momentum of the pull to swing up over the corner of the roof, detaching the hook as they arced upwards, before landing softly on the building.

Joker winced as the music, no longer obstructed by buildings, became a bit louder. Still, he didn’t notice anyone else on the rooftops, be it demons, wyverns, or Servants. Perhaps the music was keeping everyone under cover. He wondered if a pair of earplugs would help in this situation. He recalled an old Greek myth about a man who ordered his men to stuff wax in their ears as they sailed past the Sirens while he himself was tied to the mast so he could listen to their songs without throwing himself overboard.

Then, he finally noticed that hadn’t let go of Mash, so distracted he was. He released the Shielder. “Sorry for the suddenness,” he apologized with a rueful grin. “Thought we needed to get up here quickly so we could have a good view.”

“Th-that’s o-okay, senpai, y-you’re right!” Mash hurriedly stammered, her face as red as a tomato as she looked away, placing her hands on her cheeks to try and cool her face. Joker had to chuckle. She was rather adorable when she got flustered like that. 

His mood quickly turned grim, however, as he surveyed the area over the rooftops. The ambush had been so sudden and swift that Joker hadn’t been able to gauge the exact numbers of combatants. He could only hope at this point that the others were doing alright, but that was the exact reason why his team was picked in such a manner: They were all the most combat capable and therefore would be able to handle themselves relatively well.

At least, that was the hope and plan.

Joker scowled. He was finding nothing of their companions from up here. He tried to listen for any telltale sounds of metal clashing, but the organ was drowning everything out. Though it would risk their discovery, they would probably have to patrol and search to find the others. Then he saw a flash of light flare up from a small distance away. “Let’s go, Mash!” he called out. The Shielder, who had managed to recollect at this point, nodded.

They both began running and leaping on the rooftops – Joker with ease, Mash with some difficulty thanks to the snow and ice on the rooftops. She had to use her shield once or twice to stop herself from sliding. Leaping to one last roof, Joker crouched down at the edge and Mash followed suit. She was surprised that Joker didn’t immediately jump in but quickly realized why: He was observing the fight below.

In a small courtyard underneath them, three Servants were fighting. Siegfried was matching blades with a man with long, blonde hair and beard, wielding an oddly shaped lance as his black coat fluttered with each motion. His stabs and swings crashed hard against Siegfried, who even though was putting up a good fight, was slowly being forced back. Every time, however, Kiyohime sent a flurry of fireballs at the Lancer, forcing the man to dodge or deflect the salvo and allowing Siegfried to regain ground.

His third eye activated, he watched the battle unfold. Though it seemed Siegfried and Kiyohime were holding their own, their movements seemed more strained than before. It seems they weren’t immune to the organ either. He glanced over at the Lancer, frowning. Someone who could keep pace with the dragonslayer Saber and the draconic Berserker wasn’t someone to be trifled with. He looked familiar, however. He racked his brain, trying to think of who it was – then remembered.

It was the dark Lancer the doppelganger had with them when they encountered each other the first time. The man had been caught by Satan’s ice and cut down by Archer and the Servant Cu Chulainn. A rather swift death all things considered and removed a Servant from the doppelganger’s force. And now, he was more than thankful that happened – given the Servant’s skill, if he had been present in Lyon, things could’ve gone far worse for all of them. 

The combatants were far too involved with fighting and surviving each other’s onslaughts to notice the two on the rooftops, but nevertheless Joker retreated a step or two, Mash cautiously following behind. “What’s our plan, senpai?” she whispered to him.

Joker frowned as he thought, then nodded. “They ambush us, we ambush right back,” he replied with a smirk. “Wait here for now. On my signal, charge in and take him out with Siegfried and Kiyohime.” Mash nodded. Joker in turn hopped on more rooftops, keeping low so he wouldn’t be easily spotted by any of them.

Thus, he waited until the positioning was just right: the Lancer had his back turned to him, Mash was waiting on the roof by the flank, Siegfried and Kiyohime were in front of him. Switching his personas, he stood up as his mask burned off once more.

“Metatron!”

The great metallic angel appeared once more, its holy aura permeating the air. The Lancer whirled about, snarling, with eyes as wide as saucers at the sight. Siegfried and Kiyohime blinked in surprise but recovered themselves far more quickly than the Lancer did. Before he could turn around, Siegfried ran him through from behind as Kiyohime shot out a stream of fire, engulfing him in draconic flame.

The Lancer roared in pain and jumped away off Siegfried’s sword – barely dodging Mash’s shield seeking to brain him. The Servant wasn’t dead, but he looked much worse for wear. Leveling a feral glare at the group of Servants in front of him, he began emanating dark power. That was, until a beam of light shone down from right above him, burning his flesh and causing him to roar with pain. Siegfried didn’t need any further prompting, charging in and rapidly separating the Lancer’s head from his shoulders once more. The enemy Servant collapsed, its form promptly dispersing into black dust.

Jumping down from the rooftops, Ren joined the other Servants. Siegfried smiled at him. “Your timing was most opportune, Ren Amamiya,” he said gratefully. “I apologize for the trouble I have caused you. With the ambush and the music, we had been hard-pressed in our fight. Your reinforcement was most welcome.”

Kiyohime frowned. “Speaking of music, do you hear that?” she murmured, looking up. The others glanced about and heard it – or rather, the lack thereof. The organ had stopped. “It would seem the aura of your… persona had shocked whoever was playing that horrid instrument,” she observed. “An unexpected boon, but one gratefully accepted nevertheless.”

The Master nodded. “I’ll say,” he agreed. But still, it didn’t help that they were still weakened. He remembered the relief he felt when he used Maria. It wouldn’t be good to use her abilities too many times, not while they still had quite a few fights left most likely, but there were other methods. He switched personas once more.

“Pixie.”

The little fairy appeared by his side once more. Giving a whimsical point of the finger, everyone was surrounded by a green light. Their strength came back, along with much relief. Joker smiled as the fairy faded from being. “Alright, dunno how long before the organ comes back on, so we should find the others first. Let’s get going.”

“Wait, senpai,” Mash called out worriedly. “Shouldn’t we deal with the organ player first? If they start playing again, we’ll be at a disadvantage all over again.”

Siegfried nodded. “I agree with Lady Kyrielight,” he replied. “If our opponent can affect the battlefield to such a significant extent, then they cannot be ignored. We should deal with them as soon as possible.”

Joker hesitated and sighed. “You got a point,” he admitted. “But do you guys have an idea where he might be? I couldn’t exactly track his music really well in the city.” The others glanced uncomfortably at each other, which only affirmed his statement. None of them could easily find the source of the organ music.

“Do you not have something that could help track them down?” Kiyohime asked, peering over her fan at the Phantom Thief. “You have been pulling out strange power after strange power. Is tracking an unknown enemy beyond your grasp?”

The Master of Chaldea raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you’ve confidence in my abilities,” he noted, unable to keep the sarcasm in his voice. The Berserker narrowed her eyes dangerously in his direction as Mash instinctively and immediately stepped between the two, her shield half raised. “If I had an ability like that, I would’ve already been rounding us to deal with it. Or better yet, take care of it myself. My life would certainly be a lot easier if I could track someone like that.”

The two stared down each other, draconic yellow eyes meeting his stern, sharp grey ones. Finally, Kiyohime turned away. “Very well,” she accepted. “I would advise you to watch your tone, however. As dangerous as you are, kindling the wrath of a Servant is unwise. You’d do well to remember that.”

Joker gave a humorless chuckle. “Bit too late for that, Kiyohime,” he replied with a smirk. He turned back to the others. “Right, let’s find Archer and Georgios,” he stated. “The sooner we can find them before the music starts again, the better. Using Metatron again is likely to just give away our position at this point – or worse.” The other Servants nodded. Moving around in enemy territory while split up and without a lay of the land was foolish. It would be better to regroup first.

The ice and snow crunched underneath their feet in the still air.

----------

Tracking targets through alleys and buildings was never easy. There were many obstacles he had to maneuver around, his vision was extremely limited, and it was incredibly easy to get disoriented. He couldn’t take to the rooftops – not without wanting to put a metaphorical bullseye on his back. This situation wasn’t to his advantage overall.

It didn’t help that the Servant he was fighting had taken to this environment like a fish to water. Silent footsteps, moving up to the rooftops before sinking back down again, his enemy had proven extraordinarily difficult to track. This was their territory, not his. It was a battle of attrition, which consumed time, energy, and attention. None of which he could afford right now, not unless he wanted to be useless for future battles.

This was a hunt and right now, he was the prey.

Archer considered his options. There was obliterating the area and flushing the Servant out, but that would be far too flashy. It would give away his position and act as a gigantic neon sign for any allies and enemies – especially the cognitive Satan that prowled the Palace. He could track everyone else down, but that would require turning his back on the Servant, which might be a fatal mistake if she was who he suspected her to be. Then there was the third option: Give up. 

So naturally, he did just that. He made clumsier and clumsier mistakes, falling for almost every decoy or false trail the Servant left behind. Not enough to instantly die but there were certainly some close shaves – an arrow burrowed into his shoulder and waist could attest to that. Hearing the whistling of air behind him, he spun around, raising his twin blade – and both of them were knocked up out of his hands as two arrows collided with them. Before he could move or do any further, a turquoise blur shot out and tackled him to the ground.

Now it was Archer, with the enemy Archer that had been killed in Lyon standing above him, an arrow knocked and pointed at his head. “Kill, kill, kill!” she snarled, her eyes feral. 

The red-mantled hero chuckled as he shot a glance up at his soon-to-be killer. “Well, huntress Atalante,” he drawled as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Truly an honor meeting you like this. But for a famed huntress, you seem to be slipping.” The huntress narrowed her eyes at Archer’s insult, then heard the whistling of air behind her. She spun around to aim upwards but too late – Kanshou and Byakuya spun down from above like buzzsaws and embedded themselves into her shoulders. 

Screaming in pain, Atalante dropped her bow – and was stopped on the spot from moving. She glanced down at yet another copy of the twin swords sprouting from her chest and looked back to see Archer right behind her. Trying to speak only got her a throatful of blood. The only sound she could make was a gurgle as Archer withdrew his blades and she collapsed, soon dissolving into black dust as well. 

The man sighed as the bloody swords disappeared from his hands. Plucking the two arrows from his body, he began walking again. The air was surprisingly quiet this time, though his instincts told him that it was only a reprieve. Perhaps it was time to deal with that organ player once and for all. And he had a fairly good feeling where the man would be…

Chapter Text

The sounds of swords clashing rang out through the empty streets. The clamor echoed through the icy streets of the Palace, garnering the attention and fear of prowling demons and wyverns. They stalked closer and closer, smelling blood, but their instincts told them to stay at the periphery at least. They kept to the corners and walls, avoiding the sight of the powerful beings that battled around the base of the tower. Wyverns flocked carefully to the rooftop edges, their powerful eyes watching for blood. There would be time for them yet for a meal.

Chevalier D’Eon was knocked back for the umpteenth time again. Saber raised her sword again. Though the other Saber made their boasts, she already knew that their opponents weren’t as much of an issue as Morgana fretted about. Sanson by trade was a doctor and an executioner. Carmilla was a countess – and judging by the screams of the enraged Elizabeth, was her older self. As far as she was aware, the actual Elizabeth Báthory had no experience in actual combat. And finally, D’Eon was a spy, not a warrior.

The Throne of Heroes was certainly helpful for providing knowledge on other Heroic Spirits.

In contrast, Elizabeth had considerably more martial prowess than Carmilla as her spear swatted aside the various iron maidens the Assassin sent her way while dodging spikes of blood shooting out of the ground. If it wasn’t for her temper, she would’ve easily taken care of her older counterpart by now. Not to mention, she had screamed for everyone to stay out of her way – Carmilla was her prey, and she would deal with her.

Marie and Mozart were facing Sanson, both of whom were keeping their distance and pelting him with energy blasts. Even then, he had been starting to gain ground on them – until Jeanne charged in, brandishing her flag. Though Jeanne didn’t have as much martial prowess as an experienced warrior, neither did Sanson, and their unorthodox weapons certainly didn’t help either of them either. Thus, Jeanne faced off against Sanson while Marie and Mozart provided cover fire. As such, Sanson was at a major disadvantage.

Finally, D’Eon was facing against her, the King of Knights. That was already a gigantic disparity in their combat ability, but Morgana was there as well. He hadn’t been supporting her quite as much as he was trying to keep an eye on the other two fights, but that was fine. She could understand his logic: her own fight was well in hand, and so it was with Sanson. If anything, the biggest danger was Carmilla, and Elizabeth was gaining on her.

Unfortunately for her, D’Eon wasn’t an idiot – they were fighting defensively, doing their best to keep their footing and trying to figure out a way around her. All it took was D’Eon getting past her and killing Morgana to secure victory. Thankfully Morgana already knew that and was keeping his distance as opposed to recklessly rushing in.

All in all, the group had every advantage against their opponents: They outnumbered the group two to one, their combat capability was higher, and they also had better teamwork – the other three weren’t even trying to cooperate with each other and more or less ignored one another. Frankly, securing victory was just a matter of time. “Morgana,” Saber called out behind her, snagging the feline Master’s attention. “Go in and grab the map! We’ll be finished here shortly!”

D'Eon smiled – though it looked far more like a grimace. “Really now, I must say you are underestimating us a fair bit, King of Knights,” they remarked. In response, Saber charged forward. The spy barely raised their rapier in time to block the attack, though the sheer force and ferocity of the blow knocked them back, clearing a path for Morgana. It was a bit of bravado to provoke their enemy, but it seemed to have worked not at all. Or a bit too well – depending on how one looked at it.

Mona took the opening, racing past the combating Servants. Neither Carmilla or Sanson noticed – they were too focused on their respective opponents to keep watch on the tower. He had to shake his head. The doppelganger had certainly assigned a poor group to lead the defense of this guard tower. Then again, perhaps it was a cumulative cognition that did so as well? The Servants opposing them seemed to have some direct connection to a person in the group. Marie with Sanson, Elizabeth with Carmilla, and D'Eon with himself.

That wasn’t relevant right now. He could ponder it later. Right now, he scrambled up the guard outpost, easily racing up the steps. The room at the top was identical to the guard outpost as before, with the map on the table at the center. He jumped up on the table and scanned it. As expected, the map had the location of the last guard outpost displayed, but Joker’s team was already on the way. He hoped that they would have as easy a time getting there as their group did.

Tucking the map into his little pack (which could hold a lot more than one could assume for such a tiny thing), he ran back down the stairs, stopping at the doorway and peeking out first to make sure it was safe. In the few seconds Morgana had been inside, things had changed a bit: D’Eon sported a heavily bleeding cut from their side, causing them to grimace with pain. Sanson’s hand was bleeding as his executioner’s sword lay aside as the Servant himself kept dodging the blows in an effort to recover his weapon.

The only one who wasn’t faring quite so well was Elizabeth – she had multiple gashes on her legs and was also bleeding from her head. She had also lost what ground she had gained on her older counterpart and was on the defensive, dodging and parrying the large number of attacks that were coming her way.

“Even now, you struggle uselessly,” Carmilla snorted. “Submit and capitulate. Struggling so is unbecoming of you. Your fate is already sealed – I am the proof of that, after all.” With a wave of her scepter, two more iron maidens appeared and darted towards the Lancer.

Scowling, Elizabeth raised her spear and swatted them aside once more – albeit with more difficulty. “Can you shut up, you old hag?!” she snarled. “Going on and on about ‘inevitability’ and ‘fate’ and ‘future’. Do you really think I give a single crap about any of that?!”

The berserk Assassin gaped for a second before matching her younger counterpart’s scowl. “You should!” she snarled. “I am your future and who you will become! The Countess of Blood, now and forever! So lay down and accept it – and bleed!” She sent a wave of spikes headed Elizabeth’s way. The Lancer dove out of the way to dodge them as Carmilla summoned more iron maidens – and staggered as a blast of hurricane winds sliced into her, knocking aside the torture devices.

Bleeding from various wounds, she whirled around to snarl at the catlike Master, who glared at her defiantly. “Sorry, but fate is something we take into our own hands,” he yelled, aiming his slingshot at the Servant. Scowling, she dodged to the side and avoided several shots, only to blink in surprise to see the blue skinned musketeer reappear right behind the Master once more. She raised her scepter in preparation for another blast of winds or whatever attack as the being traced a pattern with its rapier. Except, nothing happened…

Save for a green glow behind her.

Carmilla turned around, her eyes widening as she saw the Lancer standing back up, whirling her spear. Her wounds were gone, leaving her looking as good as new. Elizabeth’s scowl showed a different opinion of her healing, however. “Stay out of this, kitty!” she roared. “I have to be the one to take her down! I’m not gonna become this old hag! Never again!”

“Then why the heck are you fighting alone like she is?!” Mona snapped back. That immediately shut the Lancer up. “You wanna become an idol, right? So why are you fighting by yourself?! An idol doesn’t stand alone, does she?” Any further words were interrupted as a wave of blood spikes flowed in his direction, forcing him to dodge.

Elizabeth scoffed as she charged the Assassin, swinging her spear. Carmilla nimbly dodged aside, sending an iron maiden in her place. Eyes widening in surprise, she held her spear up to block off and redirect the torture device. “Of course an idol stands alone!” she barked back. “I’m gonna be a shining star, gleaming for everyone! There’s no room for anyone else!”

Mona rolled aside as an iron maiden flew over his head. “Is that you or the countess talking?!” he snapped. Once more, Elizabeth froze – and nearly got brained by an iron maiden flying at her head in turn.

“To think a talking cat would make more sense than you,” Carmilla growled, her eyes narrowing under her mask. “A countess stands alone on top of the masses, my foolish, younger self. The people live and die only for the nobility. Their strength is her strength, their riches her riches, and their youth her youth.” As Mona and Elizabeth tried to pincer her, she summoned more iron maidens that flew toward the two, forcing them back. “You speak of being a gleaming star above everyone else? Then I ask you, what is so different? Your ambition will simply lead you back to me.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Elizabeth screamed as she swung her spear again. Her wild swing missed wide, however, and gave Carmilla the perfect opening: with a wave of her hand, a pool of blood spikes shot up and pierced Elizabeth multiple times, causing her to cough up blood.

“Elizabeth!” Mona cried. Diego appeared once more but before he could finish the healing spell, the Master had to dodge more attacks from the Assassin, leaving the Lancer still heavily wounded. The dragoness scowled as she slowly stood back up, using her spear to support her weight. Her wounds hurt – a lot.  She was bleeding heavily and she was running low on prana. Was that it? Was she like what Carmilla said – fated to lose and become her? Were her dreams ultimately that shallow?

“Is that all your dream amounts to, Elizabeth?!"

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped up to Mona, who was still dodging Carmilla’s rapid-fire attacks. “Are you just gonna collapse from this?!” he demanded. “Idols are supposed to get up time and time again! If you wanna shine, then make yourself shine! And idols don’t stand by themselves – they’ve fans and other talents, don’t they?! So are you gonna just feel sorry for yourself like this?! That’s not what an idol does!”

“You talk far too much, cat,” Carmilla snarled. “I think I should silence you – all of you – right now.” She began gathering her prana, causing Morgana’s hair to rise on end. The other Servants sensed the gathering energy and glanced over, their eyes widening. “ All lies on a plate of illusion, yet the girl rests in this case… ” Carmilla intoned.

“ Phantom Maiden! ”

A gigantic iron maiden sprung up next to Morgana, wide open. Its spikes glistened malevolently in the unnatural light. Morgana’s eyes widened, but it was moving too fast and closing too quickly. He wouldn’t be able to get away in time before he was skewered –

A blur of motion moved in front of him. Elizabeth Bathory had raced in front of him, whirling her spear before thudding it against the ground. In a gleam of light, a miniature castle sprang up, wedging the gigantic iron maiden’s doors open. Stone scraped harshly against steel as it continued to rise, with Elizabeth herself mounted on the top. However, contrasting the stone architecture of the castle were sets of gigantic speakers mounted on the front.

“ Báthory Erzsébet!” Elizabeth roared.

The power radiating from the castle was unmistakable. Just as Carmilla had brought out her noble phantasm, Elizabeth brought out her own to counter it. The Assassin stared, her eyes bulging out from behind her mask. “What have you done to my castle, you complete, utter LUNATIC?!” she sputtered. “What kind of…. Abomination have you turned my home into?!? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!”

The Lancer scoffed. “This isn’t your home, you old hag,” she retorted. “This is the stage for my showtime! Kitty’s right – I can’t go feeling sorry for myself! I have my fans! And with their support, I’m gonna shine! Kitty, as my new number one fan-“

“I did NOT say I was going to become your fan-!”

“I’ll allow you to help me this once!” she declared, completely ignoring Mona’s outburst. “Let’s show this old hag what an idol can truly do compared to a countess!” Mona scowled but Diego popped up again and quickly healed her. With a grin, Elizabeth took a deep breath, marveling that the pain from her wounds faded like it was merely an illusion, then let out a single clear note:

“LAAAAAAAA~!”

The speakers amplified and echoed Elizabeth’s ear-shattering voice. The gigantic iron maiden began straining against the powerful noble phantasm before being blasted away. Carmilla could only gawp in shock, then a heavy scraping sound caught her attention. She turned to look – and came face to face with the mockery of her castle, the gigantic speakers aimed right at her. The Assassin slowly looked up and only saw the smirking face of her younger counterpart sneering down at her. “I despise you,” she growled. “So much.”

“Well, we finally have one thing we have in common,” the Lancer snarked back before taking yet another deep breath. She sang one more note and blasted Carmilla away. The cognitive Servant dissolved into black dust before even hitting the floor. Its job done, the castle sank back into the ground with a glow of pink light, lowering Elizabeth to the ground as she heaved a gentle breath. The prana cost has been steep but against that hag, it was entirely worth it.

She looked back and saw that the other Servants were finishing up – the Saber had cut down the French spy without too much of an issue while the executioner was impaled with the saint’s flag. All in all, it was a quick victory with… two casualties. Both the musician and the kitty had collapsed on the ground, their eyes rolled back into their heads as they foamed at the mouth, twitching. She frowned at them, confused. “The heck is wrong with you two?” she asked. “We won, didn’t we?”

Marie, Jeanne, and Saber looked at each other and simply sighed.

Then a distant roar quickly drew their attention. Mona and Mozart immediately recovered and shot up as everyone held their weapons up. The demons and wyverns that had been surrounding them quickly scurred or hopped away in a panic. Reverberating stomps and crunches of ice echoed through the air, reverberating off the frozen buildings, making it difficult to pinpoint the source of the sound. The group began bunching up together, back-to-back, glancing in every direction warily as it began getting louder and louder.

The noises stopped. Then Saber’s eyes widened. “Get away from the tower!” she commanded. They began running and moments later, the tower exploded as a claw burst through, scraping at the ground where they were literally just moments ago. Through the ice and rubble slithered out the gigantic Satan, its malevolent eyes bearing down on them. Saber scowled as she spun around, the winds around her blade whipping fiercely. “ Strike Air!” she roared, firing off a hurricane gale towards the being.

“Diego!” Mona cried. The blue musketeer appeared once more and drew another pattern with its rapier. A razor-sharp gust of wind joined with Saber’s Strike Air, amplifying it. The cognitive Satan raised an arm to block the gust, then swung its arm, dispelling the winds. Both Saber and Mona’s eyes widened. It was one thing for the winds to be resisted or blocked, but it seemed to have absolutely no effect whatsoever.

The cognitive Satan roared and lunged at them. All of them barely dodged in time, separating into two groups. Liz roared as she ran in, swinging her spear, while Mozart and Marie fired off energy blasts. The former’s polearm bounced off the demon while the latter’s blasts did literally nothing. Mona fired multiple shots at the cognitive Satan with his slingshot to much the same effect – or lack thereof.

Saber scowled. It was apparent that no matter what they did, it had no effect on this being: Archer’s arrows, her Strike Air, Morgana’s magecraft, Mozart or Marie’s energy blasts, or physical blows. Whatever they tried, this being was completely immune. So once more, they had to resort to their last plan. “Everyone, fall back!” she yelled. “To a safe room, go!”

No one was willing to argue that front. They quickly regrouped and began running to their designated rendezvous point. “Morgana, why can’t we harm this creature?” she demanded from the Phantom Thief as they ran. “At the least, your abilities should be effective against such a being, correct?”

“It’s not a hundred percent foolproof,” Mona snapped. He could hear – and feel – the cognitive Satan pawing at the ground with its claws to increase its speed as it chased after them. “Cognitive beings follow different rules than reality! Whatever the Palace ruler thinks of them is how it goes! So the fact that she thinks that Satan is invincible and unstoppable here means-!”

“She thinks the Devil is ultimately unstoppable and invincible as the sermons teach,” Jeanne concluded, panting as they ran. “And because she has turned her back on His light, there can be no salvation from the Devil.” She glanced behind them. The cognitive Satan was slowly but steadily gaining on them. “Do we have somewhere we can retreat to?”

Mona swiveled his head around. “Safe room, over there!” he pointed. There was a door on the side of a house that had the distinctive, hazy figure. They all began making their way towards it – when the house was obliterated by the cognitive Satan crashing right through it and cutting them off, roaring. They barely dodged a swipe as they continued running in a panic, the demon crawling after them. “Damnit, of course it wouldn’t be that easy!” Mona cursed.

“You said that we’d be safe in those safe rooms, kitty!” Elizabeth shrieked, eyes completely wide in fear.

“The safe rooms, yeah,” Mona affirmed. “But not the buildings! If that Satan can just demolish them then there’s no point in the safe rooms being there anymore!”

He racked his brain for a plan. There had to be some way they could get away! They were lucky enough the first time to have enough distance to get to a safe room before the Satan could fully track them, but right now it was far too close. He considered the smoke or flash bombs, but he doubted they’ll work with something as unstoppable as the cognitive Satan.

That was when Marie stopped and wheeled around, much to the shock of everyone else. “Marie?!” Jeanne gasped.

Marie smiled. “Orleans needs its saint, non ?” she asked as she stared down the approaching demon. “Then as queen, I should escort you to where you need to go. Do run ahead – I will be along shortly, mi amore. ” A claw slammed down again, this time directed at Marie who managed to jump out of the way.

“What?!” Jeanne screamed, flabbergasted. “Marie, no, we can-!” Whatever protestations she had were halted when Saber grabbed her upper arm. Their eyes met, Jeanne’s fearful purple ones meeting Saber’s steely though sympathetic gaze. The message was clear

Saber looked over to Marie. “We shall see you shortly, Marie Antoinette,” she called out to her solemnly before turning to run down the street. Mona, Jeanne, and Elizabeth hesitatingly followed her.

Marie giggled. “How noble, though I do hope we don’t meet too soon,” she tittered as she stared at the behemoth looming over her, who seemed to be watching her every move carefully now. “I wish to meet again in more hospital environs, after all.” She heard quiet footsteps beside her. Blinking, she glanced over and saw Mozart stepping up beside her. “Mozart?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you would’ve run with the others. You did profess yourself to be a coward, after all.”

Mozart chuckled in response. “You are not wrong, Maria,” he admitted easily, staring up at the monstrosity. “Even now I can feel my legs trembling. But I’ve been struck by inspiration, my dear Maria! Seeing the brave queen facing against the Devil himself! Ah, my heart and soul alights with music that springs out of my soul! It would be a tragedy to die, yes, but an even greater one would be to let this new composition within me wither away!” He raised his conductor’s baton. “I must make sure it shall be my greatest work yet!” he declared.

The Rider could only roll her eyes with a gentle smile. “Ever the obsessed fool you are,” she admonished gently. “If that is the case then, we best survive. I wish to hear this composition of yours, after all.” She began gathering prana to herself. She needed to buy time for all of them to escape and drag the Devil in a different direction. And she had just the perfect method to do it.

“ Wishing to blossom, visibly in the open ,” she intoned. Satan roared and breathed out a torrent of frost toward her. Mozart immediately intercepted it with a barrier of music. “ Dancing, to blossom in full glory! ” The sound of a horse whinnying echoed through the empty streets. “ Passing through – “

“ Guillotine Breaker! ”

A horse made of glass, imprinted with lilies raced forward out of nowhere. Marie hopped up and easily sat on the horse as it galloped by, drawing the attention of Satan once more. Large crystals of glass formed all around the cognitive demon, enveloping it as it struggled to get out. However, the glass was already cracking as it pulled. It wouldn’t hold the creature for long.

“ Please enjoy, it is time for a public performance! ” Mozart declared as he gathered his own strength. “ Prepare to listen! To the sound of a demon! ” As he spoke, faceless angels flocked from the sky, each wielding some form of instrument as they surrounded Satan. They began playing a hauntingly beautiful melody, contrasted only by the demon’s roars of rage as it struggled, albeit weaker than before.

“ Requiem for Death! ”

The beautiful composition wrapped and swarmed around the cognitive Satan, weakening it as it struggled. The glass was still breaking but not as quickly as before. Marie quickly wheeled around, her horse forming more glass to trap the demon. She picked up Mozart as she passed by and plucked the surprised Caster, plopping him behind her on the horse. “ Requiem for Death ?” she asked, amused. “We must improve your naming sense, Mozart. But the music is très bien! ”

Mozart laughed. “One should enjoy beautiful music even unto their deathbed,” he declared. “This fiend shall be no exception!” Then his eyes widened as the glass finally broke, allowing Satan to finally slither after them.

“Well, I trust you can provide a running concert for us then, Mozart!” Marie cried. With that, she began riding in the opposite direction of where her companions ran as Mozart bombarded Satan with magical blasts. They fully had the Devil’s attention now.

How fitting.

—------

By the time they found Georgios, his match was already over. He had been battling the tainted Saint Martha, struggling in a town square that had been devastated thanks to her Tarrasque. He had been on the ropes until the music stopped, whereupon he unleashed Ascalon on the duo. The famed dragonslayer against Tarrasque, who was a turtle-esque dragon… There was only one clear winner of such a match-up. Afterward, Georgios fought against Martha and won.

That being said though, he didn’t exactly come out unscathed.

“Does your armor… fix… itself?” Joker asked hesitantly.

Georgios glanced down. His breastplate was dented and even punctured in multiple places. The indents were imprinted with clear signs of fists. “Once I go into spiritual form and return, it should be fine,” he replied, smiling. “I had not expected Saint Martha to be such an experienced pugilist. It was my incaution that allowed her to wound me. Thank you once more for your healing, Ren Amamiya.”

Joker waved it off. “It’s nothing,” he replied with a grin. “We need you in good condition for the fight ahead. I doubt things are going to get any easier.”

The saint nodded. “Too true I fear,” he agreed. He looked over at the collected group. “It seems we are almost all accounted for,” he noted. “Except for Archer. I take it we still have no trace of him?”

Mash shook her head. “Unfortunately not, Sir Georgios,” she replied. “We’ve encountered a few areas where a battle took place, but no sign of him.”

“There is the possibility that Archer may have perished,” Siegfried murmured, frowning.

Joker chuckled, although it sounded a bit strained. He didn’t want to consider that possibility. He didn’t want to lose another person if he could help it. “I doubt it,” he replied easily. “He’s like a cockroach. He’s not the type to die from getting killed.”

Somewhere in Chaldea, Cu Chulainn sneezed.

“For now, we have numbers to work with,” Joker continued, looking over the group. “We can split up into two teams and search the area. Mash, Siegfried, and I will–“

Before Joker could finish, an explosion rang out through the district. Everyone immediately rushed through the streets toward the source of the noise, their weapons ready. They came upon the devastated runs of a church, a bell falling down and crashing to the ground with a loud, final clang. A figure in shadow appeared in the smoke. Everyone braced themselves for whoever their new opponent was… and blinked in surprise as Archer stepped out, nonchalantly brushing off his coat and sleeves.

The red-mantled Servant glanced up at the group, then smirked. “Didn’t expect you to come all this way for me,” he drawled. “Thanks for the welcoming committee.”

“As acerbic as always,” Georgios commented, smiling while shaking his head. “I trust you had no issues?”

Archer glanced behind him at the ruined church. “No issues,” he reported. “There was an enemy Archer that I took out, and an enemy Assassin who was in the church there. He was the one playing the organ music. He’s been taken care of.”

Joker leaned over to stare again at the ruins of the church. “You definitely work fast, Archer,” he commented with a grin. Archer just smirked. “Alright, looks like that’s everyone. Doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else around so we should be on our way once more. Archer, can you take the lead and scout ahead? Last thing we need is another ambush.” Archer nodded and quickly took to the rooftops. “Everyone else, formation. Let’s get a move on.”

With that, they were on their way again. However, they quickly noticed something: It was quiet. There were no demons or wyverns about. The silence made everyone on edge. Joker gulped as they traversed the empty alleyways and streets. They just needed to grab the map and rendezvous with Mona and the others. With any luck, there shouldn’t be any issues. After that, they can figure out a way to the Treasure. And with it, one step closer to ending this.

—-------

Marie drew ragged breaths. The claw that was gripping her was tight, barely allowing her to breathe. She was bloody and battered, her vision a haze. Her horse, her noble phantasm, had long since dissipated and she was out of prana to summon it once more. She had tried blasting the demon’s claw apart but as usual, her power had no effect. Nothing either of them had done ultimately did any damage or even so much as singe a single scale of the demon.

Her eyes wandered. Her gaze fell upon Mozart, who was slumped against a broken wall. His body was dissolving away into gold dust. Despite all the times she called him a coward and insulted him, she still cared for and loved him in the end, just a bit more than she loved everyone else. 

She hoped she bought enough time for the others though. Especially Ren Amamiya. That dashing figure, those mischievous yet stern eyes, his capability and confidence, his vulnerability and pain… ah, any girl would fall for such a man.

Perhaps if she was summoned once more, she would try to get closer to him? That would certainly be fantastic. Oh, it wouldn’t be something a queen should do, but she wasn’t exactly a queen anymore, was she?

Ah, but a queen still had a duty to her people, and her duty was to France. The two of them had lured Satan away from the others and bought precious time. They knew this would be their fate and had fully accepted it. 

As her gaze fell back down to the blue demon, she could see the maw of the creature approaching her. Large, gnarled, yellowed teeth, gums coated in blood. Its breath was utterly rank, causing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. There would be no escape, no salvation here.

But that didn’t matter. The saint, Jeanne, would see things through. So would Ren and Morgana. They would save France and save humanity. Thus, despite everything, she smiled. As the jaws of Satan snapped closed on her as sure as the guillotine, her final words in this world were whispered.

“ Vive la France."

And then she knew no more.

Chapter Text

Securing their piece of the map had been easy enough. Aside from a couple packs of demons and wyverns, they hadn’t encountered any further opposition nor any other cognitive Servants. Georgios could even afford to quickly dip into his spiritual form to regenerate his armor. It had been a simple matter of getting to the guard outpost, picking up the piece of the map, then making their way to the rendezvous point. Thankfully, there was a safe room around the location they predicted. However, none of them could miss the ruins that were further down the street, which filled Joker with incredible trepidation.

When they entered, his fears had been confirmed when he saw Mona, Elizabeth, Saber, and Jeanne all sitting in chairs, with everyone aside from Saber crying.

All of them were told what had happened: The three Servants who guarded the guard outpost, the ambush by the cognitive Satan, and how Marie and Mozart had sacrificed themselves to draw them away. Joker made to march right out of the safe room, only to almost run straight into Archer who had positioned himself in front of the doors.

“We can still save them, Archer,” Joker growled. “Move out of the way.”

“Use your head, Master,” Archer coolly retorted. “The others just told us that Satan is invincible and immune to literally everything we do. Even in the unlikely chance we find them, how do you propose we deal with the monster who most likely would’ve pursued them to the world's end? They knew the stakes when they entered the battlefield and most likely paid it gladly.”

“We’ll find a way, Archer,” he retorted. Perhaps appealing to strategy and tactics would get through to him. “Right now we need all the manpower we can get. This Palace is extraordinarily dangerous and we need everyone. Once we get there, we’ll find a way to get away from the cognitive Satan and figure out the rest from there.”

The red-mantled Servant scowled. “That’s a fool’s hope and you know it,” he stated. “And even if we did catch up, the chances of them still being safe from that monster is slim to none. If it catches wind of us, it will pursue us again. Do you want to sacrifice someone else so the rest of us can get away? As you’ve just stated, this place is extraordinarily hazardous and we can’t afford to lose anyone else.” He crossed his arms. “We’re better off writing them as gone, for the safety of everyone else.”

“That’s not your call to make,” the Master snapped. “I don’t want any sacrifices on my account. There’s been too many already. We’ll find Marie and Mozart, then we can keep going for the Treasure.”

Archer narrowed his eyes. “With your experience and powers, it seems I’ve forgotten a fundamental thing,” he replied, an edge creeping into his voice. “I don’t know what clean, straightforward battles you have fought in the past, but whatever happened then, this isn’t the case. This is a war, Ren Amamiya, where your enemy won’t hesitate to take every single advantage they can. You may be attached to your allies, but do NOT act like a child when they take the risk to secure victory in the end.”

Joker’s eyes widened with rage. “’Clean, straightforward battles?’” he hissed. “Every single opponent we’ve dealt with, we’ve had to because there was no other way to do so! That’s the whole reason we’ve infiltrated Palaces to begin with! I know they’ll take every damn advantage they can get – that’s all they’ve ever DONE! We’ll gain victory but I’m not sacrificing anyone else for them!” He held up his hand. “By my command seal-!”

“Joker, stop!” Mona shouted, tears dropping from his eyes. “Please… please don’t. Archer’s… Archer’s right. Marie and Mozart are g-gone by now. They volunteered to l-lead the cognitive Satan a-away so w-we can survive. We’re here b-because of them.”

He buried his face in his paws. “I-It’s my fault,” he sobbed. “I-I made the wrong call. We sh-should’ve just r-ran after w-we got the map to th-the rendezvous p-point. Then Marie and M-Mozart w-wouldn’t have…”

“Enough,” Saber admonished calmly but firmly. “You made the best choices you could – both of you. But no king nor commander can control every variable. Unexpected factors can derail even the best laid plans. The only thing we can do now is proceed and make the best of the situation. We’ve achieved our objectives with a few losses – regrettable, but nothing can be done at this point. We need to proceed from here.”

Mona looked at the Saber, then slowly turned to Siegfried. “Is… is this what you w-were t-talking about?” he asked the dragonslayer plaintively. “Wh-when you talked a-about luck…?”

Siegfried hesitated, then nodded in sympathy. “Yes,” he agreed. “As your Saber has mentioned, it is impossible to control every factor. I had never fallen on the battlefield. Rather, it was ultimately my circumstances and my choices that led to my downfall. But there is nothing I can do now about it.”

As he listened to Mona and the Servants, Joker felt his fear and anger ebb away, leaving only a horrifically painful hollowness within. One that came from hearing a truth he had no desire to hear. They were right. This wasn’t like their previous adventures in the Metaverse, where they could plan almost every battle to their advantage or simply maneuver themselves around various obstacles. The battles here had far higher stakes with far more dangerous enemies. Having no casualties at this point was simply a childish delusion.

Marie and Mozart were gone. And there was nothing they could’ve done to stop it. Once more, the image of a metal door slamming down before he could move replayed in his mind. Was he truly this powerless?

Archer sighed and relaxed his stance. “We’ll need some time to recover,” he stated calmly. “All of us have been through battles and stress in this Palace. We’ll rest here for a bit before we resume planning and the mission. Masters, you still have some rations. Eat and regain your strength – you’ve both no doubt used a considerable amount of power while we’re here.”

“I’m not hungry,” Joker mumbled, exhausted.

“Please, senpai,” Mash begged, stepping forward. “Nutrition is important and… and I do not think Marie and Mozart would wish for you to go hungry. Even Mozart a few nights ago tried to have some of the rations. Although, I think it was more out of curiosity than anything to do with nourishment.” She trailed off at the end, scratching her cheek in embarrassment at the memory.

Both Joker and Mona blinked at the Shielder before chuckling, despite their sadness. “So that’s what that was about,” Mona murmured, laughing despite himself. “We should probably eat, Joker. We might feel better with some food in our stomachs. At the very least, we’ll be miserable and full as opposed to miserable and hungry.”

“Well said,” Saber agreed, nodding sagely. Both Masters shot her a stink-eye that she pointedly ignored. Joker sighed as they both fished out a ration pack each and proceeded to heat it up. As they did, the room was silent, everyone with their own thoughts. Besides the occasional sniffle from Jeanne, Mona, and Elizabeth, there wasn’t a sound from anybody. Archer and Siegfried had once more taken up guard positions beside the door and Georgios was murmuring a quiet prayer for the two.

Joker watched his food cook within the bag as he thought. Both Marie and Mozart knew how to make things lively in the group. Despite their silliness, they didn’t fail to bring a smile to their faces with their antics. With both of them gone, everything felt far heavier. He wanted to do something to honor their memory – perhaps a toast or something – but he didn’t have anything proper to do so with. Bottles of water certainly didn’t seem fitting for the occasion. Maybe after they scouted a route to the Treasure and got out of the Palace.

Once the food finished cooking, they quietly ate, sitting at the table. The food tasted bland and indistinct as it always did, though it seemed to be even more flavorless this time around. Mash sat near them, fidgeting, though she didn’t say anything. No one mistook the silence as a lack of care, however. They all had their mission. There would be time for grief later.

A few minutes later, all of them produced their portions of the map and laid them out on the table. As Joker and Mona had said, the three pieces formed into one complete map. Mona, who was standing on the table, pointed to a specific spot. “There, the throne room,” he declared. “That’s where the Treasure will be.”

“You’re certain?” Jeanne asked.

Mona nodded. “Positive,” he replied. “The Treasure is always in the deepest part of the Palace. Whether it’s some sort of safe or treasury. There’s nowhere further than the throne room, so that’s gotta be where the Treasure will be.”

“She couldn’t just hide it away somewhere else?” Archer asked, frowning. “One of the functions of the heist you mentioned was the calling card. If she knows we’re coming for it, wouldn’t she have moved the Treasure to some place more secure?”

Joker shook his head. “Palaces don’t work like that,” he answered. “The conscious mind isn’t aware of the subconscious, where the Treasure lays. It’ll be in the most guarded section, but for the most part it won’t be moved. Worst case, it’ll just be moved even deeper into some deeper compartment, but that’s rare.”

When Treasures were moved, it was often under extenuating circumstances – Okumura ran with it with his flying saucer, Sae moved it to her custom arena, and Shido basically had it flying above them their entire fight. Still, no matter the situation, once the shadow was defeated, they would end up relinquishing their Treasure, one way or another.

But there came another issue. Once the ruler was defeated, it was all too likely the Servants would try to kill her then and there. As much as he liked and trusted them, they were hardened warriors who would grasp victory however they could simply because it was necessary. Jeanne had convinced them to go with the heist for now as opposed to outright killing her, but would they ultimately listen to her? Or him? Him and Mona had command seals that could force them to stop but… what would that mean afterward?

‘Am I really too much of a child for this after all?’ he thought. His eyes trailed down to his gloves. Normally a bright, vivid red, he saw the splotches from his blood still on them, staining them an ugly crimson.

His hands gripped into fists. Maybe they couldn’t stick to their old ways. Already, this heist had cost them Marie and Mozart. Sooner or later, for his friends and family – for humanity to come back…

He remembered the gun Akechi showed him back in the dream. The false detective had used the Metaverse for his own ends, killing people or driving them psychotic for his own ends. As one who could slip into the Metaverse, he could kill with impunity and it could never be traced back to him, nor could he easily be defended against as it was a plane that almost everyone had no awareness of. A Servant’s Palace had far more potent defenses than their previous targets, sure, but they still had the element of surprise.

Could he do what he did? If he needed to, would he be able to pull the trigger? If he did, he wouldn’t be a Phantom Thief anymore. He would be a…

“Senpai? Senpai!”

Joker blinked as he looked up. Everyone else was staring at him in concern. Mash had come up right beside him and was almost in his face. He forced a grin. “Sorry about that, spaced out,” he apologized easily. He looked back down at the map, trying to ignore the looks everyone else was giving him. Pointing out a section of the wall near the keep, he said, “Over here. A hole in the wall’s marked. We can get in and make our way inside that way.”

Everyone looked. Indeed, where Joker pointed was an indicated breach. The keep itself seemed straightforward overall. It boiled down to ‘keep going up until they reached the throne room’. “Now, there may still be other defenses there,” Mona warned. “Cognitive Servants, demons, wyverns. It’s possible we might encounter the Palace ruler – Jeanne d’Arc Alter - herself. Everyone be on your toes and let’s just hope Satan doesn’t pop up again.”

Everyone nodded. With that, they filed out the door. Joker could feel Archer’s analyzing gaze upon him, but he ignored it. He could think about it after this singularity and would talk to Morgana about it. However, the conclusion he was steadily approaching sank into the pit of his stomach. And he already killed people – Servants. One way or another.

He wondered how Akechi felt after he killed his first person. How did he continue to justify to himself to keep killing, no matter who or what? How did it come to him so easily? Would he be able to do so?

“Master of Chaldea, a word.”

Joker glanced back and saw that Kiyohime hadn’t stepped out yet. Everyone else looked at her in surprise. It wasn’t like her to call out someone like this. He nodded to the others. “I’ll be back out in a bit,” he reassured them. With that, he stepped back inside, closing the door behind him. “What seems to be the problem, Kiyo-“

“Why did you lie?” she interrupted in a clipped voice. Joker froze at the accusation. Now that he was taking a closer look at her, he could see her eyes boring into him with a near-unrestrained wrath, her grip on her fan so tight that her knuckles were an even paler shade than usual. “I believe I have made myself clear, Master of Chaldea – I do not tolerate liars under any circumstance. Yet you have lied in front of me. Before I judge whether you deserve my wrath, I ask you to explain yourself.”

His mind raced to figure out his argument. If he said the wrong thing, then Kiyohime would definitely carry out her threat. He was certainly able to resist long enough to either subdue her or get one of the other Servants back in, but either method would likely end up with her losing her life. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to think for a bit what he had exactly lied about. Was it him saying he wasn’t hungry? He didn’t feel hungry at the time. Was it – oh right.

“Is this about me spacing out?” Joker asked. “I had a lot of things on my mind, Kiyohime. Sorry about that. I really did blank out for a bit there because of them. I just thought I could get it out of the way so we could get back to planning.” It was better to tell as much of the truth as he could in this scenario. Anything else would probably just anger Kiyohime more, and that wasn’t what he needed right now.

Kiyohime continued to glare at him, with Joker’s gaze unflinching despite the terror that crawled down his spine. “Once this alliance has completed its purpose, I shall go my own way,” she growled. “I do not require a Master who keeps so many secrets that he would have no choice but to lie. Watch yourself, Ren Amamiya, else I will direct my dragonfire at you instead.” Without waiting for Joker’s answer, she walked past him and out the door. Joker could only breathe a sigh of relief as he followed her.

Everyone looked between Kiyohime and Joker in concern, but the latter simply shot them a reassuring smile and shook his head. The situation was settled at least. Not in the most satisfactory manner but at least no one died. It would have to do for now as they moved out.

As they made their way through the alleys and streets, the areas were once more prowled by demons and wyverns. The Servants made quick work of them as quietly as possible as they moved along, following the map’s directions. Before long, they came to the wall itself: Dark, looming, and completely covered in ice. There would be no way in hell anyone could climb it.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Elizabeth commented, keeping her voice to a whisper. “Why couldn’t we just blast through this thing to begin with? We’ve got some real powerhouses here – heck, I can probably knock it down! Why did we even look for that map to begin with?”

“Like we said before, Elizabeth, we don’t want to alert the subconscious too much,” Mona whispered back impatiently. “We might be able to blow it up, but that would probably get us kicked out at best or at worst, bring down the cognitive Satan on our butts. With the area around us packed tighter than a sardine can, we’d be sitting ducks for it. You wanna risk that?” Elizabeth paled at the thought and shook her head frantically. “That’s what we thought. Now, let’s go.”

Moving along the wall, they eventually came to the indicated spot on the map: A narrow crack that was just large enough to allow a single person through at a time, even Siegfried. Saber went through first to establish a foothold, shimmying through the crack and popping out on the other side, summoning her blade as she kept a careful guard.

The crack led into an empty courtyard – the stables near the gate a crumbled ruin, the smithies cold, snow and ice dripping off various target dummies that lined the walls. Though the gates of the walls themselves were closed as well as the main doors, there was a side door she could see from there. There weren’t any signs of cognitive Servants, demons, or wyverns.

One by one, each person came through the crack, with Elizabeth having the most difficulty thanks to her tail. Surprisingly, she didn’t complain. Even she knew that complaining about it was only going to be counterproductive at this point. The last one through was Archer, who had been acting as a sentry on the other side and made sure no one got hit from behind.

Moving warily across the courtyard, they came to the side door. Joker reached forward and pulled it open. The castle was much darker, illuminated only by various torches burning with a blue flame as well as the odd lighting from outside. The hallways were tall and wide, but still fairly narrow overall. “Do you know this area, Jeanne?” Georgios asked, looking at the frozen hallways as they filed in.

Jeanne shook her head. “I never had the pleasure of staying at the castle for long,” she murmured. “I was often out in the field and only came for my various audiences with the Dauphin and the king. I do not think I can serve as a guide to the castle. My apologies.”

Mona waved it off. “Wouldn’t matter anyway,” he replied. “The layout of a Palace is often completely different to the location in real life, otherwise we would have had no trouble navigating our first Palace, which was Ren’s high school. It’s best we keep to the map and follow that instead. That’ll get us closer to where we need to go.”

With that, they began moving. With the narrower hallways, they had to alter their formation to proceed. Saber, Georgios, and Jeanne took the vanguard, with Mash right behind them to guard the Masters. Joker and Mona were in the center. Covering the rear were Siegfried, Archer, Kiyohime, and Elizabeth. Despite specializing more in range, Kiyohime was in front of Archer and right behind the dragonslayer and Lancer.

The two Phantom Thieves felt uneasy as they carefully walked through the frozen halls. The cognitions outside were one thing, but the castle should have shadows patrolling or wandering. Yet nobody saw or felt any presence of them overall. It was the classic case of the whole scenario being quiet. Far too quiet. Judging by how tense the Servants seemed, they were all in silent agreement. Thus, everyone kept their guard up as they moved.

Suddenly, the vanguard froze and immediately ducked down, pressing themselves against the walls, weapons at the ready. Everyone else followed suit. There was silence for a few seconds… then they heard some liquid slithering. Joker and Mona barely stopped themselves from squawking as some tentacled… thing squirmed by, going through a door down a staircase.

Elizabeth had prevented herself from shrieking by biting her sleeve, almost tearing through the fabric. “Puppy, kitty, what the hell was that?!” she demanded in a frantic whisper.

Joker shook his head. “Don’t ask us,” he replied, trying to keep his own terror from his voice. “We’ve never encountered that in any Palace we’ve gone through! And those are still cognitions, not shadows!”

Jeanne’s eyes widened. “Cog – wait, do you mean to tell me those… things exist in real life, and my doppelganger might be utilizing them?” she asked, looking at the group. Hearing that, everyone’s faces paled.

Mona gulped. “Sometimes, cognitions can be distorted,” he explained. “But… I dunno what kind of distortion would get you something like that . So… it’s pretty likely that at the very least, something almost as gross is wandering the halls of the Orleans castle.”

Thunk .

Elizabeth had collapsed in a dead faint.

A few minutes later, after rousing the idol-to-be, they continued through the castle. Everyone was even more on edge now compared to before, looking out for more of those tentacled monstrosities. Archer particularly kept checking any ceilings or corners, with Joker and Mona did as well as soon as they noticed him doing so. Joker’s eyes were red as he accessed his Third Eye, looking for more distinguishing marks or the signature glowing auras of any enemies. It reduced the rest of his vision, but luckily the Servants around him would easily guide him in turn.

While more tentacled monstrosities slithered by, none of them seemed to notice the group, allowing for a relatively smooth, if nerve-wracking, trip. As they approached the throne room, the vanguard immediately threw themselves against a wall, peeking around a corner. Everyone else did suit as well while the rear guard kept a watch to make sure nothing snuck up on them. Moments later, the doors of the throne room burst open as two figures marched out – or rather, one figure stomped out with the other following.

The first figure was the doppelganger. Her yellow eyes were glowing in comparison to their relatively dead hue in the real world. “What the hell do you mean you haven’t found the intruders yet?!” she screeched. Her voice had a reverb to it that distorted her voice and only emphasized her rage. “They’ve been rampaging everywhere and even killed off the other Servants, weak as they are! Who the hell can I summon now?! No one’s responding!”

At the sight or sound of her, everyone’s eyes widened as they looked over to Joker and Mona. They could only nod in grim confirmation. Without a doubt, it was the doppelganger’s shadow. Unlike most Palace rulers, she was still wearing the same clothes that she did in the real world – that is, the saint regalia that was blackened to contrast with Jeanne’s normal clothes. However, the eyes and voice as well as her presence gave it away.

“I am most sorry, my dear Jeanne, a thousand apologies,” the second figure simpered as he lowered his head. It was a man wearing long, black robes with a flamboyant black and red collar. His face was unhealthily pale and gaunt, with greasy slicked black hair and bulging fish-like eyes. In his hand he carried a book that was yellowed with age, the cover having some sort of yellow fiber stretched across.

Jeanne raised a hand to her mouth to suppress a gasp. Despite how twisted and different the man looked, she couldn’t forget one of her most ardent supporters and second-in-command in life. “G-Gilles?” she whispered in a horrified tone. “Is… is that truly you?”

Everyone looked at the saint in shock, but quickly silenced themselves as the two began speaking again. “I don’t give a damn about your apologies, Gilles!” the doppelganger snarled. “What I want is all of these intruders dealt and crucified! Or better yet, fed to the demons! Crucify them in front of that… monster for all I care! Get rid of them! And set up more patrols!”

“Yes, of course, of course, my beautiful Jeanne,” the man replied, his tone supplicant. “Your will be done! And afterward, we shall continue turning France into a Hell the likes of which the Devil has never seen!”

The doppelganger clicked her tongue. “Tch, I got a taste of Hell already, both by flame and ice,” she growled as she began stomping away. “At the very least, I can give them a taste of fire. I’m not gonna let that pathetic excuse of my past self ruin everything!” Turning around a corner, she was gone.

Gilles in the meantime opened his book. Muttering incomprehensible words, he held out a hand over the yellowed pages. In front of him a black portal glowing with eldritch energy opened on the floor. Out crawled another more of the tentacled abominations they had been seeing throughout the castle. Elizabeth covered her mouth to avoid throwing up as everyone else barely held back their revulsion. The fallen knight pointed with one gnarled finger. At his direction, the monsters slithered down separate hallways as Gilles shambled down another.

A few minutes later, there was only silence through the halls. Everyone let out a shaky sigh of relief. Jeanne turned to look at everyone else in horrified askance but Joker raised a hand. “Later,” he murmured his short answer. Jeanne gulped and nodded. Indeed, it wasn’t the time for discussing what they just witnessed.

The doors of the throne room still open, they quickly moved in. The room was massive, with a marble tiled floor and elaborate walls and ceilings. On the opposite side was a small indent housing a throne. It was a surprisingly simple yet ornate room overall. It would’ve even carried an air of splendor and power with it if the entire place wasn’t completely frozen over like everything else. Here, in fact, it was even worse: piles of ice had collected around the bottom of the walls as massive, sharp icicles hung ominously on the ceiling. Normally vibrant touches like the red carpet were iced over, dulling their look to insignificance. On the throne itself rested a bright, glowing haze.

However, the frozen throne room nor the haze weren’t what caught the group’s attention. There were other points of interest around the throne room.

Namely, the crucifixes that stood in front of them. Three total. All of them mounted with their victims.

Joker and Mona braced for combat, as did most of the other Servants. However, it was clear that unlike the ones that were guarding the guard outpost earlier, the people on the crosses were dead, their corpses frozen over with expressions of pure agony. Then Jeanne gasped and raced over to one of the crucifixes, her flag dropping from her hands and crashing against the frozen floor, the sound echoing through the empty chamber.

“Th-the Dauphin?” she stammered. Joker blinked in surprise. The Dauphin, he recalled from his lessons in world history, was the name of the crown prince of France at the time – and was raised to the throne by Jeanne d’Arc to become King Charles VII. To see him crucified like this… it was clear the doppelganger had quite a bone to pick with him. Probably for leaving her to be tried and burned at the stake in the end, unable or unwilling to help her.

The other corpse was an important personage as well. Philip the Good, who was the Duke of Burgundy – a technically French region that had allied itself with the English and fought with them against the French. Jeanne had led her men against his forces in the later parts of her campaign and would later be defeated and captured by his men.

The saint’s expression could only be described as ‘utter horror’ as she stumbled to the last crucifix. “Bishop Pierre Cauchon,” she whispered. On the cross was an older man in priestly robes. The doppelganger seemed to have it particularly out for him, with multiple swords and spears buried in his body whereas the other ones were left more or less untouched after their crucifixion.

That wasn’t a name either Master was familiar with. “Who?” Mona asked.

“The bishop who tried and had Jeanne condemned,” Georgios supplied, gazing up at the body with a mix of cold anger and revulsion. “The man had made sure the trial was rigged with as many enemies against her as possible and manipulated things to the end. I am unsurprised that the doppelganger particularly mistreated this man in both life and death – no doubt he would’ve been quite the focus of her rage.”

“This is not what I wanted,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “I bore no ill will towards him, nor my people. If by my death I could secure peace for my country, then I would go in peace and grace. And I did. To enact such wrath and vengeance upon them…”

She wiped her eyes and gulped. “No, now I know for certain,” she murmured. “This… doppelganger. Whoever she is, she is not me. I would’ve remembered the men I fought and broke bread with, the generals I argued with, and my family whom I missed dearly every day. I saw none of them here. And… I never would’ve given such cruel fates to these men, no matter what. She must be stopped.”

Joker nodded approvingly. “And our goal is right there,” he pointed out, nodding toward the glowing haze. Finally, almost everyone’s eyes were drawn to the haze floating above the throne (Archer and Kiyohime were standing guard by the door). “That’s the Treasure,” he explained. “Once we send the calling card, the ruler will be made aware of the Treasure and it will manifest. After that, it’s a matter of getting in, grabbing it, and getting out.”

“And with that, our route to the Treasure is secured,” Mona affirmed. “Now, we better get out of here. We have a lot of preparations to make. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.” Everyone nodded and left the throne room. Jeanne was last. She took one last glance at the crucified men and the indistinct Treasure. She whispered a prayer for them as well as the doppelganger.

And then she left with the others.

Chapter Text

Getting out of the Palace was considerably easier. With a direct path, they were able to exit out the way they came in without encountering the cognitive Satan. As they stepped out, the sun was starting to set, bathing the land in fading orange light. Archer immediately moved to a vantage point to scope out Orleans. The horde in the city hadn’t moved. They were still holed up and guarding the place. Ren and Morgana had already explained that whatever happened in the Palace, the Palace holder wouldn’t know anything about it, which was fortunate for them.

As soon as they stepped out, Ren’s communicator beeped. Tapping it, the Master was face to face with Roman’s very panicked face. “Ren, where the hell were all of you?!” he demanded, his eyes manic. “We completely lost your location and couldn’t find you anywhere! All we had were your vitals and they were fluctuating like crazy! Just what-?!”

“Perhaps if you stopped talking for a few seconds, Romani, the prodigio ragazzo will explain for us,” Da Vinci noted. Her ever-present smile was still on her face, but it was certainly strained with no small amount of menace. Her eyes bore into Ren as she turned to face the screen. “So, what happened in there, my ragazzo and maginico gatto? I trust you’ve a rather fantastical explanation?”

Ren and Morgana glanced at each other before turning back to the screen. “We can’t tell you here,” the former replied. “It’s sensitive information. However, we can tell you that we may have found another way to the doppelganger. We might be able to stop her. We’ll explain as much as we can once we finish up here and come back to Chaldea, but we can’t tell you now.” He glanced around at the edges of the screen. Roman and Da Vinci immediately got the hint: Not around the other Chaldean staff.

Roman looked over Ren’s shoulder, where Mash was standing. “Mash, what’s your take on this?” he asked. “You’ve been with Ren this entire time. Your assessment?”

The Shielder blinked, then nodded. “Ren’s method is… unorthodox,” she phrased carefully. “However, it’s a safer way than trying to infiltrate Orleans by the regular method. It’s still dangerous, but within acceptable margins.” Ren shot Mash a grateful look, causing Mash to blush a bit. Still, she didn’t break her gaze from Roman. He trusted her, so she would trust him. And she told the truth to Roman as best she could. The Palace was safer than the city with its horde of monsters.

There was a moment as Roman considered, then he nodded wearily. “Alright, if it’s a better method, then it’s better,” he acquiesced. “However, when you’re about to head someplace where we’ll lose our readings of you, let us know so we’re not scrambling and panicking over what’s going on.” That was an acceptable enough condition. Ren and Morgana nodded in agreement. Roman sighed, looking more exhausted than ever. “Is there anything else you need to report then?” he asked.

“We’re planning on getting things resolved tomorrow,” Morgana piped up, drawing the gazes of everyone. “We’ll need to make some preparations, though. Da Vinci? We got requests for you.”

Da Vinci blinked in surprise, then her smile widened into an eager grin. “Oh? You always have the most interesting requests, my maginico gatto,” she purred. “What do you have in mind?”

“Something a little… flashy,” Morgana replied, matching her grin. “It’s about what we discussed before and it’s going to be a rush job. Think you’re up to it?”

The genius’s smile grew even wider.

----------

Once the requests were made and Da Vinci eagerly got to work, the group set up camp a distance away from Orleans. The last thing they needed was to attract the attention of the horde. There was a clearing where they were able to make a campfire, keeping it low enough so the smoke wouldn’t rise too far and alert anything or anyone keeping watch.

Ren sat by the campfire, staring into the flames. Both he and Morgana were exhausted. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to – delving into the Metaverse was taxing on one’s mind and body. Whenever the Thieves left either the Palaces or Mementos, at most they’d stop for a bite to eat (often at Ryuji’s request) before shambling home. Tomorrow, they would send the calling card and storm the Palace for the doppelganger’s Treasure. And after that…

He gripped his arm as he considered. Would stealing her Treasure actually resolve things? Before when their targets had their hearts stolen, they would end up confessing to their guilt, unable to bury the weight of their sins any longer. But if the doppelganger did so here, what would happen? Would she just… give up? If she did, what then? What would happen to the monsters in Orleans? What about her majordomo, Gilles de Rais? If he was in her cognition to that degree, no doubt he was in the castle as well. Was this worth it?

Or had he led Marie and Mozart to their deaths just to satisfy his ideals?

He heard a faint rustle and glanced over. Morgana came and sat down beside Ren. “Hey,” the catlike being greeted in a tired voice.

“Hey,” Ren responded in kind.

Morgana was quiet for a bit. “Servant Palaces sure are a different breed, huh?” he murmured. Ren chuckled grimly. That was an understatement. They knew that with a Palace like ‘Hell’ it was certainly going to be far more challenging than what they did before. What they experienced and went through, though, made Shido and Maruki’s Palaces pale in comparison. Vicious demons killing and devouring victims, people crucified and frozen, and of course, the cognitive Satan…

The others were out and about. Siegfried and Georgios were keeping watch. Mash, Jeanne, and Elizabeth were talking together a small distance away. Saber was staring out at Orleans, most likely figuring out any further points of ingress or escape if they needed to head in in real life. Or possibly comparing the Palace layout to what the city was like. They weren’t sure. Kiyohime, who normally spent her time with Marie and Mozart, was by herself, staring up at the stars.

“So what did you and her talk about?” Morgana asked out of curiosity. Right, he was there when Kiyohime called him away. Ren explained the conversation between the two. Morgana bristled as he listened. “What the hell!” he exclaimed, barely keeping his voice low enough so the Berserker couldn’t hear. “We’re here busting our butts to make sure humanity comes back and all she can think of is-is you lying?! Hell, what did you even lie about anyway?! As far as I can tell, you haven’t lied to her once at all!”

“First time dealing with a Berserker?”

At the voice, both Masters whirled around to see Archer standing above them, smiling sardonically. “Asking for rationality and logic from a Berserker class is the same as asking a tree to rain gold on your head,” he commented. “They’re called Berserkers for a reason – their madness is ingrained into their very being. And for someone like Kiyohime… are you aware of her legend, Master?”

Ren blinked and racked his brain. It was an old Japanese legend that he heard once or twice before. “She was a princess who fell for a… monk. Anchin, I think,” he murmured as he dug up the details from his memory. “Anchin rejected her advances but promised to see her again. However, he was afraid and ultimately didn’t visit her, so she turned into a dragon out of anger, chased him into a bell, incinerated him within, and then drowned herself in a river. Is that about right?”

Archer nodded, glancing over at Kiyohime, who thankfully still wasn’t listening. “The princess was driven into a rage by two factors: Lies and Anchin,” he explained. “As a Berserker, those two factors are amplified considerably. She has such a hatred of lies that she can immediately detect them, and she’ll normally dote on her Master as her Anchin.”

He looked at Ren through the side of his eye. “Be thankful you’re not her Master,” he added. “If she had mistaken you as Anchin and you lied, I doubt you’d be here right now.”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves and Morgana felt a cold chill down his spine. He kept forgetting that these weren’t normal people he was dealing with. These… Servants were heroes, villains, and even monsters of myth and legend. They were people who became that way not just through their perseverance, strength, intelligence, or kindness, but through their own individual distortions pushing them well beyond what other people would be capable of. Distortions that made their previous targets seem like mere pushovers in comparison.

Ren looked up at Archer. The man’s grey eyes were looking off into the distance, always on the watch for something amiss or a detail that might either harm them or give them an edge. Though his body was relaxed, he knew well that, if the situation calls for it, he could immediately spring into action. “How… how do you do it?” he asked faintly.

The red-mantled Servant glanced back down at him, blinking. “Do what?” he asked.

“How do you… kill?” Ren clarified. He felt completely lost and alone. The Phantom Thieves lived by a code of not killing. They wanted their targets to be properly punished for their crimes and to give hope to others. The act of killing was repugnant to them, a line they weren’t willing to cross else they would become just like their targets.

“Killing isn’t something that is taken lightly, Master.”

Ren and Morgana jumped a bit as Saber came up from the other side, sitting by the fire as well. “Forgive me for eavesdropping,” she apologized. “I happened to be nearby.” She gazed into the fire, lost in memories. “Do you know what we are, Ren Amamiya? Morgana?” she asked, glancing over at the pair.

The two Masters looked at each other. “You’re… Servants,” Morgana answered hesitantly. “Beings from myth and legend, right?”

Saber nodded patiently. “Indeed. We are kings, heroes, generals, monsters, and many more,” she explained. “However, if you know anything about our tales, you will know that people with our standings rarely have easy lives.”

She stared into the fire as she remembered Camelot. “When I was a king, I did all I could to ensure the prosperity of my kingdom and my people,” she murmured. “If there were peaceful methods to avoid conflict, be it diplomacy or otherwise, I pursued it. However, many times that was not possible. I had many enemies both within and outside my kingdom.” Especially within. Camelot fell in the end – not to foreign enemies, but to its own knights and her own hubris. A mistake that came from pursuing her ideal kingship to the very end.

“As king, I led my men into battle,” she continued. “I have no love for killing, nor did I wish to, but if they threatened the safety of my people, then I cut my enemies down without hesitation. I mourned those who fell as they fought by my side and did my best to honor and respect those I fought against, but in the end, war is little more than a bloodbath. Chivalry helped restrain the worst of it, but in the end, killing and death is unavoidable.”

The two listened to her, both horrified and contemplative. A king became and stayed a king by winning his battles and claiming territory. A hero became a hero by killing monsters and men. There were those like Mozart who became legends through more peaceful deeds and work, but that unfortunately wasn’t what was needed. Even Mozart himself would freely and happily admit that his skills wouldn’t even be close enough to what was needed.  

Ren thought he knew how bad things could get back in Tokyo, but this was beyond that. It wasn’t like with their targets who, even if they killed, kept things subtle or untraceable. They were dealing with people who would kill them without a second thought. There weren’t things like ‘law’ or ‘justice’ here – such things were dictated by those who were still alive in the end.

“If it helps, Masters,” Archer spoke up. “Servants are already dead. We’re merely copies of people who have long since passed – the best you can call us are their legacies. Even if we’re killed, it matters little in the end. We’re beings who have no purpose in the present – only the mission we have been summoned to do.”

Ren’s eyes immediately snapped back up to the red-mantled hero. “We’re not treating you as disposable tools or pawns,” he replied harshly. “If I had treated everyone like that, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. And neither am I willing to sacrifice you guys – there has to be other ways. If I have to sacrifice anyone else, then I’ve failed as a Master and as a leader.”

Both Archer and Saber stared at him as Morgana cast his gaze to the ground. The catlike being was the perhaps the only one left who knew just how Ren felt about sacrifices. No matter what, he always went out of his way to help those close to him, no matter the risk to himself. Whether it was saving their companions from abusive authority figures to taking on the heat so attention would be off them in turn, to even saving former enemies from certain death, like with Maruki.

“How did you fight then, Master?” Archer asked. “It’s clear both of you have experience in combat and command, yet it wasn’t under wartime environments. And it would seem the doppelganger’s Palace was far different than what you had experienced before, judging by how you two reacted.” Though his eyes were still sharp, Archer’s tone was surprisingly calm and far from accusatory or condescending. Saber was also calmly analyzing them as well, awaiting their answer.

Ren considered. What they were asking for was hardly unreasonable – it took a few fights whenever a new Phantom Thief joined for their style to truly ‘click’ and they could figure out how they worked. And if he was going to be fighting alongside his Servants, it would be better to know their modus operandi as well as their history. But…

“Not right now,” he replied, looking between the two. His expression was deathly serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you guys, but I don’t know who’s listening or not, both here and in Chaldea. Once we’re done here, I’ll tell you guys everything I can and we can coordinate enough. Does that sound fair enough?”

Archer and Saber glanced at each other. “Are your secrets worth keeping even now, Ren Amamiya?” the latter asked, her stern green eyes boring into Ren’s, searching for any sign of weakness or falsity. She may not have Kiyohime’s instinctual detection of lies, but years of being a king had honed her political senses well enough.

The Master shot her a humorless smile in turn. “More than you can imagine,” he simply replied.

Their shared gaze held for a few more seconds before Saber relented. “I shall trust your judgement then, Master,” she replied gracefully. “Although it is not ideal to have such unsurety the eve before the battle, it’s far more common than you think.”

Ren blinked. “What were battles like for you guys, then?” he asked, looking at the two Servants once more. He might as well get a stronger handle of how they composed themselves and handled war. This was far more their specialty than his own, after all. He would definitely need their advice in the days to come.

He inwardly smiled in nostalgia, sadness, and bitterness as he remembered his confidants. Yoshida, who taught him speechcraft, Oda, who taught him gunmanship (even though it was virtual), Hifume, who taught him strategy and tactics, and of course, Sojiro, who taught him how to cook and make the perfect cup of coffee. It seems even here, some things don’t change.

—-------

The two Servants taught Ren what they knew in the short time they had for the evening: Saber taught Ren about logistics and war planning. An army marches on its stomach, as the old saying goes. No matter what time period, that was always a constant in war. Thankfully logistics were extremely easily dealt with on their end – any supplies that Ren, Morgana, and Mash needed were provided from the base itself while the Servants didn’t need food; the prana upkeep from Chaldea was enough to sustain them.

Through her, they learned a few aspects of the relationship between Servants and Masters. Prioritizing Masters was often the more effective method as they were weaker than their Servants. Unless the Servant had some special ability to allow them to live longer, killing the Master would deprive them of prana and pretty much cut them off then and there. It was also what allowed the doppelganger to be so deadly – any resupplies necessary could be done with the Grail, from food to men, or in this case, monsters. Thus, the traditional tactic of cutting off their supply lines wouldn’t work either.

Archer went on a different tack. He had the two bring out the maps of the cognitive Orleans and instructed them on vantage points and utilizing the lay of the land. In his words, the two excelled in infiltration, but less so in exfiltration and more importantly, what would happen if the enemy did the same thing to them. That was true – back in their own adventures, the shadows often had easy-to-follow patrol routes. It made ambushing them almost laughably easy.

Ren remembered the agonizing pressure from Berserker’s gauntlet around his head. He genuinely thought he was going to die then and there. Only the timely intervention of Mash saved him from getting his head crushed like a fruit or ran through with his blade. The threat of imminent death still sent a shiver down his spine. Even back in the interrogation room, he never had that close a brush with death – there, Akechi had been close but not close enough. Here…

The red-mantled hero used his own battle with the enemy Archer – Atalante – for an example. Quickly pinpointing the position of their battle, he discussed the movements both he and Atalante made, utilizing both cover and vantage points to flush the other out. He made it clear that such confined territory was the Huntress’s home territory and thus Archer was put on the back foot. Thus, he lured her into an alley with a few clear openings and exits by making deliberate mistakes, then killing her when her guard was down.

The two Masters listened with rapt attention to Archer’s battle. It was both similar yet exceptionally different to their own fights as Phantom Thieves. The areas they have been in – a castle, an art museum, a bank, a cruise ship, and more, were far more constrictive than the city they fought through, but many of the tactics of what Archer explained could still be applied. From how Archer described it, Ren doubted he would’ve fared against Atalante any better than he did against that Berserker by himself.

Still, it did leave a lot of thoughts for him to mull on as he stared out over the ruined city of Orleans. Despite the setting sun, there were no lights coming on in the buildings. Well, that was to be expected – who would be living in them anyway? Especially when he could see wyverns roosting and monsters prowling about. He didn’t get a chance to look at most of the towns or cities here during the night. Bordeaux had some semblance of life despite people being scared for their lives. But staring at Orleans like this, it felt… surreal. And oddly terrifying.

It felt completely unnatural.

“May I sit here?”

Ren glanced up at Jeanne, who smiled down at him. He returned the smile and patted the grass next to him. The saint sat down beside him looking over the city. They sat in silence, each with their own thoughts. Before long, he heard her murmuring a prayer, her head lowered and eyes closed. Ren waited patiently until she finished. “Who are you praying for?” he asked.

Jeanne glanced over at him. “For everyone,” she murmured. “For those who have died from my doppelganger’s rampage. For us and our mission. For those who are still alive and will rebuild this country. And… for my doppelganger and those who serve her, and hoping they find forgiveness under His grace.”

He stared uneasily at the city. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he inquired. “You’re a saint, yet you’ll kill if you have to.” Ren sighed. “Sorry, I’m sure I sound like a child right now,” he muttered ruefully. “It’s just… everyone here seems comfortable killing if necessary. Before… well, everything, I never killed before. I thought if I killed, I’d lower myself to… a level I don’t want to match.” He had to be careful here – he would rather not talk about their targets in the open. But even now, he just felt like he was rambling, trying to find a way to justify sticking to his usual ways instead of doing whatever was necessary.

The saint didn’t judge, merely quietly listening. She smiled sadly. “You are not much older than I am, you know,” she pointed out, which quickly drew Ren’s attention. That’s right – Jeanne d’Arc had started her mission and campaign when she was merely sixteen years old. He was only older than her by a year or so, if that.

She hugged her knees as she looked out at the desolate city. “In my campaigns, I never drew my blade nor actively participated in fighting,” she murmured. “But my hands aren’t any cleaner. I was the one who led my men into battle, after all. As for how… I could say it was my mission from Him and therefore it was justified, but even then, there were many times I wondered if such bloodshed was truly necessary. It is violence and death, no matter how you look at it.”

“But when I saw the brutality the English had inflicted on my people, when I saw the consequences of their crimes running unchecked, I couldn’t restrain myself,” she continued. “I led my men into battle against them and did everything I could to oust them from my land. I do not regret it, even when I was captured and burned at the stake. Was it my punishment? Many called it such, accusing me of being a witch. But that didn’t matter in the end. All that mattered was that in the end, my people were free.”

Jeanne glanced back over at Ren and smiled. “I will not tell you whether or not to kill, Ren Amamiya,” she said. “Your heart and cause are righteous ones. If you follow them, I’m sure you are following His will in the end.” Her face fell as she looked back over Orleans. “Though it would certainly seem our enemies aren’t inclined to follow diplomacy. Perhaps if your method works, we can resolve this without any more bloodshed – though it is only a cautious hope.”

“Yeah, same here,” Ren muttered. A distant roar of a wyvern sent shivers up his spine. Things were far different here than they used to be. But perhaps, hoping against hope, just this once, they could still be Phantom Thieves after all. His hands tightened into fists.

They had to be.

—-------

Joker raced through the icy streets of Hell. All he could hear was his breathing and the ice crunching underneath his boots. Where was Mash? Archer? Saber? He could hear the snarls of demons all around him, though he couldn’t see anything. The roars of wyverns echoed overhead. And somewhere in the distance, buildings were being smashed by that cognitive Satan. He needed to find the others before anything else could happen to them!

“J-Joker! Help!”

He whirled around and his face lost all color. Crucified on two crosses were Makoto and Haru, their faces twisted in pain from the nails that pinned them to the cross by the arms and feet. They were wiggling desperately against their crucifixion but couldn’t budge an inch, blood dripping from their wounds to the ice below. As he started running towards them, wyverns swarmed in, clawing at him. He slashed with his knife and shot them with his pistol but they were too thick. He tried summoning his personas, but none of them came.

Before long, the two girls were snatched by wyverns and carried away, their shrieks echoing in the void. “QUEEN! NOIR!” he roared. He tried gunning down the wyverns, but they were too far.

“AAAARTTHUUUUURRR!!!!”

Joker turned again and saw the Berserker, its visor gleaming with that malevolent red light. Near it, Yusuke was pinned to the wall with its greatsword impaled through his torso. Futaba was hanging in its clutches, its gauntleted arm around her head. “J-Joker,” she whimpered. “Hel-AAAAAAAH!!!” She screamed as the knight squeezed, and the only sound left was a disgusting squish. Her lifeless body dropped as the Berserker howled into the empty sky.

His breath was caught within his lungs. He wanted to pull up his gun and fire, but everything felt too heavy and slow. He could barely move. Joker glanced down. Ice was forming on his legs as frost settled on his hands and arms, his gloves still splotchy from blood.

He turned. Ryuji and Ann were caught by a horde of demons, screaming as they were shredded and devoured piece by piece.

He turned. Sumire was in the cognitive Satan’s grasp, her futile struggles and shrieks reaching no one as she was lifted to its maw and ended her being with a single wrenching bite.

He turned. Akechi was there in his detective prince outfit, holding a gun up to his head. A malevolent smirk danced on his features. “Case closed,” he announced with finality. “This is where your justice ends.” Then a gunshot rang through the air and he felt the bullet tear through his skull-

—-------

Ren’s eyes shot open. He was panting for air, his body in a cold sweat. He raised a hand to his eyes, feeling the wetness on his palm. Oh. He cried in his sleep. It had been a while since he had such a vivid nightmare, and especially one that didn’t exactly involve the interrogation room. Then he noticed someone was nearby: Mash, who had been reaching over to him. She was kneeling beside him, her face etched with worry.

“S-senpai?” she asked. “Were you having a nightmare? You were tossing and turning.”

He blinked, then plastered on his usual easy grin. “Yeah, I did,” he replied easily. “Sleep doesn’t exactly come easy to me nowadays.” Not like he could hide it, and besides, Kiyohime might be nearby. The last thing he needed was for her to detect more lies from him. He knew he was on thin ice with her as is. “Sorry if I woke you up, Mash. Did you sleep well?”

Mash bit her lip, obviously wanting to ask about it but took the hint. “I slept alright, senpai, thank you,” she murmured, nodding slightly in acknowledgement. “I actually came to wake you up – it’s morning.”

He looked. Indeed, the sky was turning light. It was cloudy, but not so grey as to promise rain. It was a cooler day than yesterday, but not that much. “Huh, so it is,” he noted casually. He stood up, stretching out his stiff and sore muscles. Sleeping on the ground like this wasn’t the most comfortable, though it was cushioned by the grass and softer soil underneath. Still, the hard bed of LeBlanc was more comfortable than this.

Ren smiled. “Well, I woke up at a good time then,” he noted with a small chuckle. “Now, let’s get some breakfast first, then check in with Da Vinci. If she’s done with her work, then we’ll get to the next part of the plan – and you’ll get to see how we do things.” He flashed Mash his usual cocky grin, which Mash met with a nervous smile of her own – one that vanished into a worried expression once more when he turned to walk towards the campfire. Morgana had already gotten out ration packs and was getting them cooked for breakfast. Most of the Servants were there as well.

“Morning Ren, Mash,” he greeted, yawning. He flashed Ren a stink-eye. “Didn’t I tell you how important sleep was? Today’s the big day!”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves chuckled as he grinned down at the catlike being. “Speak for yourself,” he shot back. “You look like you’re about ready to pass out. But then, cats are supposed to be sleeping three-fourths of the day away – aren’t you the one lacking sleep?”

“Bah, don’t compare me to some common cat,” Morgana snapped. “I’m the amazing Morgana! I don’t need as much sleep as they do!” Ren chuckled again as his friend huffed. Still, the silent observation between the two was there: Neither had gotten much sleep, and he had a suspicion it was for the same reason he didn’t rest very well either. Neither of them addressed it though. They had a heist to complete.

Once breakfast was heated, the three quickly ate the bland meals before contacting Roman and Da Vinci. As promised, Da Vinci had their items made overnight: Three grappling hooks, one for Ren and Mash, and a smaller one for Morgana. It would only fit his Metaverse form – further adjustments would be necessary so he could wear it as a cat as well – but it would do for now. There was also a special arrow as well, loaded with a particular kind of magecraft, designed to hold a rather large amount of items without compromising on the aerodynamics of the arrow.

In this case, a large quantity of the Phantom Thieves’ calling cards. Da Vinci being Da Vinci, she sent them an unpacked copy so they could admire her handy work. Striking red-and-black theme with jagged textures, the Phantom Thieves logo on the back with the words emblazoned ‘Take Your Heart’, as well with words resembling cutouts of a newspaper. It was all embellished with artwork of angels and demons that lined the borders.

‘To the doppelganger Maid of Orleans,

Your wrath has consumed the country of France in eternal flame and destitution, bringing widespread suffering to countless people, both innocent and guilty.

We will condone your sins no longer and thus, will take your distorted desires without fail.

From, Chaldea.’

Ren and Morgana had to laugh. Da Vinci certainly went whole hog on this one. She was a Phangirl through and through. The Servants looked over in askance but the two shrugged it off. Again, it wasn’t the time to explain things. But now, it was time for action. Giving the arrow to Archer, they used Roman’s readings to pinpoint the location of the doppelganger, who of course was at the keep. Thankfully, Archer had a clear shot. Drawing back his bow, he took a second to aim, and fired.

Everyone watched as the arrow zipped through the air and pierced through a window. Once the arrow was in, it would explode into confetti of the calling cards. In such a location, she certainly couldn’t ignore it. All of them waited for a sign that she read it. A moment passed, then two…

Suddenly, the wyverns and monsters within Orleans stirred. They began roaring and shifting in rage, many of them taking to the skies. It was akin to disturbing a bee’s nest. Morgana grinned. “Well, as if we needed any more proof the Palace ruler’s disturbed.”

Ren nodded. That was as clear a sign as any. He turned back to the others. “Alright, the Treasure has manifested,” he announced. “We only have one shot at this, so let’s do this and make it quick.” Everyone nodded. With that, he pulled up the Metaverse app and their surroundings distorted once more. It was time for a heist.

Beginning navigation.

Chapter Text

At first glance, it would seem the Palace hadn’t changed whatsoever. The streets were still frozen, glistening coldly in an unnatural illumination. The sky was still a dark void without a sign of any light. Crucifixes lined the streets, their victims still hanging from where they were nailed on the crosses. It was still the very image of Hell itself.

However, as soon as they entered, everyone noticed the atmosphere had changed. The very air pulsed around them like a heartbeat, each time seemingly illuminating the Palace in a harsher red light. Wyverns shrieked as they took to the skies, demons scrambling about everywhere. In the distance, they all could hear the cognitive Satan roaring. It all set the Servants on edge as they immediately summoned their weapons in preparation.

Joker and Mona, once more in their Phantom Thief regalia, felt a shiver down their backs. It was out of nervousness and fear of failure of course, but more than anything: Anticipation. The heartbeat pulsing through the air, the red glow, the very tension the Palace radiated… It all felt so familiar to them. Even though this was their make-or-break moment as well as the dangers the Palace presented, they couldn’t help but feel that this was their own home territory.

Their change in attitudes didn’t go unnoticed by the others – and neither did the grins that spread across their faces. “That’s a better look on you two than just moping about,” Elizabeth commented with a giggle. “Only fitting though! But you two aren’t allowed to outshine me, got it?”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves chuckled. “I make no promises, Elizabeth,” he replied with his usual cocky grin, causing the Lancer to pout and turn away with a small blush on her face. He turned back to the others. “Alright everyone – it’s showtime!” he declared, tugging his glove tighter around his hand. His enthusiasm dampened a bit when he noticed that the blood still stained his gloves, but he dismissed the thought. It wasn’t important for now.

Not noticing Joker’s faint unease, they nodded. Turning, everyone began running down the icy streets. Wyverns and demons shrieked, diving towards them with claws bared. The Servants didn’t even slow down as they shot or cut down the monsters as they approached. Joker and Mona had taken out pistol and slingshot respectively, shooting them down as they approached with unerring aim. Every once in a while, one of the creatures tried diving in directly from above, only for Mash to deflect the creature and open it up to be taken out.

As Joker raced through the icy streets and alleys, his vision kept flashing – in front of him were castle halls, then museum paintings. He felt his feet hitting the solid tile of a bank floor before feeling the sand against his face. He heard the rings and bells of casino machines and the excited gossip of crowds milling about on the cruise ship. The air was clean and sterile through his nose and mouth like that of a well-maintained laboratory. Yet no matter what, the heartbeat in the air and the flash of red didn’t change. He could almost hear the footsteps of the other Thieves running alongside him-

He blinked and shook his head. Suddenly, he was running through the frozen ruins of Orleans again, passing by crucifixes. Gulping, he forged onward. Indeed, everything seemed far too familiar. They needed to finish this quickly. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed his lapse in attention. Good. Again, he would rather not deal with any concerns right now. Not when they were so close to finishing this.  

They came once more to the breach in the wall. Saber went through first once more as a vanguard – and her eyes widened as tentacled monstrosities poured out of the front gate towards them. “Enemies incoming!” she shouted through the breach to the others, raising her blade.

As she charged into the fray to cut them down, the group quickly rearranged the order they would get through. Siegfried and Georgios were next to cross over so they could reinforce Saber. Archer and Jeanne stayed behind as a rearguard once more – and more than once, the former had to shoot down incoming wyverns as Jeanne kept the demons at bay.

Joker and Mona gaped for a moment at the number of tentacled monstrosities coming through the door, then immediately went into action. The former summoned Metatron who proceeded to cast beams of light at the creatures as Mona summoned Diego, whose winds sliced them to bits.

Elizabeth came through and her face immediately twisted in disgust. “Gross, gross, gross, GROSS!” she shrieked as she lashed out with her spear. The blade sank into the soft flesh of the tentacled monsters, causing murky, dark green blood to splatter out. The Lancer frantically hopped backward to avoid getting even one drop on her. “What ARE these things?!” she screamed out, swinging her spear to keep the other creatures away from her.

“I doubt they will respond to your shrill inquiries, you false dragon,” Kiyohime deadpanned. With a wave of her fan, a stream of fire blasted forth and incinerated more of the monstrosities, filling the air with a rancid smell. “That said, I will fully admit that these creatures are thoroughly unpleasant,” she noted, wrinkling her nose at the stench.

One of the creatures dropped from above, tentacles outstretched towards the Berserker. Her eyes widened but before she could react, a red spear flashed out and impaled it against the wall. She glanced over in time to see the Cu Chulainn persona fade away with Joker flashing her a cocky smile. She briefly narrowed her eyes before giving him a short nod of acknowledgement and continuing to incinerate the creatures.

“It doesn’t seem like they’re stopping anytime soon,” Archer casually noted. He had been the last through the breach, picking off the creatures with his bow while simultaneously making sure nothing was following through. “We’ll need to press onward and find the source of these creatures or we’ll be fighting forever at this point.”

“It’s fine, we just need to grab the Treasure!” Mona shouted, dodging some tentacles that shot towards him before slicing them with his cutlass. “After that, we can get out of here and not deal with these… things anymore! Saber, Siegfried! Can you cut a way through for us?”

The two swordsmen spared only a glance back at Mona before facing their enemies again. This time, instead of holding their position, they charged forward. The blade shrouded in wind and the dragonslaying sword moved with masterful fluidity, slicing through the abominations as they carved a bloody path. Georgios and Jeanne immediately moved right behind them, covering their flanks and keeping the way open for them. With that, everyone began advancing, with Archer, Elizabeth, and Kiyohime providing a rear guard.

Joker and Mona continued to support how they could, the power of their personas and their aim providing key openings and covering any gaps in the Servants’ defenses. The tentacled creatures came in thick and fast with no reprieve, seemingly pouring in through any doorway or hall they could. It was impossible to pinpoint their location. Times like this, Joker wished he had Oracle with him – she would immediately be able to find the source of them.

Still, wishful thinking wasn’t going to do anything. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that it was the Servants that were with them as opposed to the other Phantom Thieves – he deflected one or two tendrils with his knife and was nearly knocked into a wall each time. The Thieves would’ve quickly been overwhelmed with enemies of this caliber, especially when they were aggressively swarming them in such raw numbers.

Up more stairs, corridors, and halls. The rate of the creatures coming through didn’t slacken, though the narrow passageways thankfully limited their numbers. Still, the constant battling was starting to take its toll – Joker and Mona could feel their stamina starting to flag, and the Servants were getting tired too. The Phantom Thieves knew that they would need to reserve their strength for the battles ahead. No doubt the doppelganger’s shadow would be there to meet them.

As they burst into the throne room, they were met with… silence. The crucifixes of the three men were still there. The ice glistened on the walls and floor as they always did. There were no tentacled monstrosities, no cognitive Servants, no shadows, nothing.

The only difference was a flag that leaned up against the throne. A replica of Jeanne d’Arc’s own banner, only darkened somewhat.

Mona’s eyes widened as he laid his eyes on the flag. “That’s it,” he gasped. “That’s the Treasure!”

Joker dashed forward and grabbed the flag. He could feel the thrum of power through it. This was, without a doubt, the Treasure. However, it felt far more powerful than all the other Treasures. What kind of Treasure did she have?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of more wet slithering. Spinning around, he could see more of the creatures sliding in. They couldn’t even see the outside properly anymore – just a writhing mass of tentacles ready to swarm them. The Servants stared down the horde as the monstrosities watched for an opening. They could fight through to get back down but it would be tremendously difficult.

Archer, however, had a different idea. Summoning his bow once more, he formed a drill-like sword which extended into an arrow. He then aimed it… towards the throne. Joker and Mona’s blinked before quickly diving out of the way. Archer waited a split second until they were out of range, then loosed the arrow.

The arrow penetrated the wall and exploded, sending out a shockwave that almost knocked Joker and Mona to the floor while buffeting the Servants. The tentacled monstrosities immediately shrank with instinctive fear from the explosion. When the ice and dust settled, all that remained was a hole that led outside – far above the ground. But that didn’t matter. They had a way out.

Joker grinned. “Great work, Archer!” he called out before dashing for the hole. Mona followed. The Servants did as well, keeping a rear guard as the tentacled beings surged forward to cover the ground they had given up. He looked down from the hole. They were rather high up, far too high to descend just from dropping. His vision darkened as his eyes turned red. Certain ledges and outcrops glowed blue in his vision as he mapped out the path. If he made a mistake, he would be splattered on the ground.

He grinned. Piece of cake.

Glancing back at the others, he asked, “Are you guys able to get down from here?” 

The Servants glanced at one another. “I think we shall manage, Ren Amamiya,” Georgios replied with a reassuring smile. The other Servants all smiled as well – some haughtily (particularly Elizabeth), most the same as Georgios. Only Kiyohime didn’t, looking away from Joker. However, she didn’t voice any difficulties with her own descent. That was probably as good as he was going to get.

“Um…”

Joker blinked and looked over to see Mash nervously peering over the edge. “Th-this is very h-high up, s-senpai,” she stammered, nervously adjusting her grappling hook. Oh right – she didn’t have the instinctive knowledge of the grappling hook that came from being a Phantom Thief in the Metaverse. He had completely forgotten that detail. She would definitely need some actual training to use it properly.

“She’ll probably need help getting down, Joker,” Mona quickly supplied, albeit with a very wide grin on his face. Joker knew his old friend well enough to know his ulterior motive and only barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about me – I’ve been at this and watching you long enough to know how it works. We’ll follow your lead!”

The Master of Chaldea nodded. He turned back to the Shielder. “Hope you don’t mind…?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

Mash blushed but nodded. “O-of course,” she replied softly. “I-I’ll be in y-your care, senpai.” She stepped closer to him. Joker smiled reassuringly, causing her heart to beat even faster in her ears.

“Stop flirting with her, puppy, and go already!” Elizabeth screeched. That shocked Joker and Mash out of their reveries. The monstrosities were coiled up, ready to spring. They were running out of time, and in such cramped quarters, they would be easily overwhelmed.

Joker flashed Mash a grin before wrapping an arm around her waist, causing her face to take on a hue of a tomato. Before anyone could say anything else, Joker jumped into a freefall from the hole. Mash immediately wrapped her arms tightly around him, squeezing her eyes shut. The ground was coming up worryingly closer and closer as the wind whistled in his ears, but it was fine. He had done this before.

Reaching out, his grappling hook shot forward and attached itself effortlessly to an edge of a tower mounted on the wall. The cord tautened as it took on the weight of the two, stretching to lessen the impact on Joker’s arm as he swung easily, utilizing the momentum to carry the two over the wall. Detaching the hook, he shot it again at the roof of a nearby building. It reeled in and shortened as he swung, eventually allowing them to reach an apex of a height about maybe twenty feet from the ground. Once more detaching, they landed softly on the rooftop.

Mash opened her eyes at the feel of solid ground and looked up instinctively at the confidently grinning face of Joker. Blushing once more, she turned away to look at the castle they had just come from. The Servants were rapidly descending, dropping from the hole and kicking off the castle walls to reach the outer ramparts before leaping down to the buildings below. Mona could be seen as a swinging black blur, moving about with as much ease as Joker did.

He was fairly certain they saw where he landed, but there wouldn’t be any harm in making sure. And he had just the thing to get their attention. Letting go of Mash, he held the flag up aloft and began waving it, the fabric catching even in the still air. The Servants’ eyes locked on to the flag and Mona’s swings adjusted to head closer toward them. Well, that did it.

Jumping down with the Shielder, it wasn’t long before they met up with the others. “Stylish as always, Joker,” Mona chirped, grinning up at him. “And using the Treasure like that? You’re such a showoff like always.”

“Same to you, Mona, as expected,” he replied. Mona chuckled in response. Joker glanced up at the others. “Are we being followed? What’s the situation?” he asked the others.

“The monstrosities have no capability of following us in such a manner,” Siegfried reported, looking back at the castle. Indeed, they could see the writhing creatures waving their tentacles in evident frustration from the hole but otherwise made no moves to follow them. “I do not know whether they’ll follow us out of the castle or not, but I suggest we make haste and escape. We have our objective, do we not?”

Joker glanced up at the flag. True, they had the Treasure now. The shadow wasn’t defeated though. If they escaped, it would be the first time they had completed a heist without doing so. Still, with how dangerous the Palace was – with the demons, wyverns, cognitive Satan, and the tentacle monstrosities – it was probably for the best. Theoretically, it should be enough. Hopefully. He nodded at the rest. “Alright, then let’s get going, everyone,” he ordered. No reason to stick around. With that, everyone in the group began running back to the entrance of the Palace.

Things were going smoothly so far…

----------

Jeanne d’Arc Alter was in a foul mood.

She was sitting on the throne, tapping her fingers impatiently against the armrest. Scattered all around were ashes of those thrice accursed cards that had filled the throne room only moments prior. The doppelganger saint was pissed, and, frankly, this waiting wasn’t helping it any. She had already dispatched her Servants and other creatures, but so far there was nothing.

It had been a simple day overall – she had been conferring with Gilles and D’Eon when the arrow had burst into the window and exploded. Those cards were nothing less than an absolute affront to her – her sins? Her wrath?! Who the hell were they to judge?! God Himself certainly didn’t bother judging those damn fools who burned her at the stake, so what right did they?!? And those angels and demons – they really were mocking her, weren’t they?!

Still in a foul temper, she stomped over to the window, glaring at the hole the arrow had made earlier. Looking out, she could see her wyverns flying over the perimeter and searching for any traces of those damned fools from earlier. So far, they had found nothing. The only thing they had found was some contingent of French soldiers marching through the countryside nearby. Idiots thought they were safe since she had pulled back all her wyverns. She had them all incinerated.

“My dear Jeanne.”

The Alter whirled about, her hateful gaze resting on her majordomo. Gilles de Rais had been with her from her days as a saint and had been steadfastly with her as the Dragon Witch. Of the Servants she had, he was one of the only ones she placed any sort of trust in. That being said, even he wouldn’t be spared her anger if he didn’t have any good news. “Well?” she growled.

The Caster bowed low to the ground. “A thousand apologies, my dear Jeanne, a thousand apologies,” he whimpered. “We have found no traces whatsoever of the enemy. The wyverns and the Servants have been scouring the land for them, but they seem to have vanished without a trace.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. At all. “What do you mean ‘vanished without a trace?!’” she screeched. “Do they have some sort of Assassin with them? Or a Caster?! There’s no way in hell they could’ve just – just vanished!”

Gilles was almost prostrated on the ground. “I’m so sorry, my dear Jeanne,” he whimpered. “I have had everything and everyone redouble our efforts but we have not found anything of them. But…. If I may offer my opinion?”

“What?” she snapped.

“If they have done nothing but fled with their tails between their legs,” he offered. “And after taunting us so brazenly, then perhaps they aren’t anything worth worrying about? It would be better to spread our forces out and resume our destruction as opposed to holing up here and have our forces become further restless.”

The Alter scowled. “You think I’m going to let those fuckers free after that?!” she hissed. “I’m going to burn them alive after pulling off shit like that! No one – NO ONE is going to –“ She paused. Wait. They had her naïve self with them and those idiots were do-gooders. Oh. Oh, she had an idea. If they weren’t going to show themselves, then perhaps she could flush them out like chickens out of the coop. All she needed was to send a fox in.

Or rather, foxes. Hundreds upon hundreds of them.

“Send the wyverns everywhere,” she commanded. “Have them burn EVERYTHING to the ground! Any corpses, raise them and send them towards any known surviving towns and villages! And also, summon more of your creatures and have them swarm the villages too! Send every last one of them!”

Gilles’s mouth dropped open. “Wh-what?” he gasped. “But, my dear Jeanne, that would leave you defenseless! We cannot have that, even if these accursed people must suffer! And they will suffer, but not at your expense, my dear Jeanne!”

The doppelganger scoffed. “Of course not,” she snapped. “I’ll be keeping the Servants here for now. Meanwhile, those idiots will be too busy trying to ‘help everyone’ and ‘saving towns’ to do crap about it. We’ll flush them out and exhaust them that way. Like hell we’re just gonna sit on our asses at this point! They wanna fight, then we’ll take it right to them!”

The Caster’s eyes widened, then he clapped his hands together. “Oh, brilliant! That is brilliant, my dear Jeanne!” he exclaimed. “They will not sit quietly as we burn everything to the ground! Yes, we shall flush them out like devils exposed to the light! Oh, a most brilliant maneuver! I bow to your wisdom and strategy!”

Her mouth curled into a smirk. “Glad to see you approve of my plans,” she replied drily. “Now, get to it. You have your orders, don’t you?”

Gilles nodded enthusiastically and shuffled away, already opening his spellbook in preparation to summon his new tentacled monstrosities. Those nightmarish creatures had been patrolling the castle day in, day out. While they were certainly powerful guards, even she had her limits in terms of the help she wanted for her campaign. Frankly, the sooner those… things were out of the castle, the better she’d feel. Besides, they stank up the place something fierce. She lived here, damnit!

Still, with those horrific monstrosities, her wyverns, and her ghouls moving about, they wouldn’t stay quiet. That naïve saint would never stand for it. True, she lost a figuratively and literally huge asset with Fafnir, but that couldn’t be helped. Frankly, he had been unruly ever since he smelled that damned dragonslayer. She would’ve set him up with some backup if he hadn’t flown away impatiently.

Bah, she was always surrounded by idiots.

But that didn’t matter. She went back to the window and smiled, already imagining the peaceful countryside burning under the flames of a thousand wyverns as monsters and ghouls shambled about, chasing and devouring the unlucky few remaining. The country she had saved and yet didn’t bother lifting a finger to save her in the end.

The last bit of resistance was almost gone. Then she would begin her long campaign. And she would let nothing stand in her way.

----------

The group traversed through the streets, making a dash for the entrance. The demons and wyverns were coming thick and fast and in worrying numbers. It wouldn’t be long before they were wading through enemies much like they had to go through the castle earlier. They needed to be quick about it. Thankfully, Saber, Siegfried, and Georgios were making great headway and punching a hole through the creatures as everyone else kept the flanks and rear clear.

Joker fired more shots into the group before summoning Cu Chulainn to spear through a few demons leaping towards them. He didn’t recall a Palace that had so fiercely resisted any infiltrations or exfiltrations. Even when they had sent their calling cards, often it was just a straight shot to the Treasure, with the shadows keeping more or less to their usual routes. Whatever resistance there was came from the Palace ruler themselves. The fact that they were absent was disturbing in of itself-

“Senpai!”

Before he could turn to see what’s going on, a wyvern had swooped in among the swarm and grabbed him – no, grabbed the flag. “Joker!” Mona screamed as he was lifted into the air. Joker grit his teeth as the wyvern’s claws dug into his shoulder, trying to not look down as the ground got smaller and smaller. Struggling, he aimed his pistol up and fired. The wyvern roared as the bullets punctured its belly. It let go of the shoulder but kept a tight hold of the flag, leaving Joker dangling as it flew.

Before Joker could do much else, the wyvern rapidly descended, adjusting its grip. Low enough that he was smashed into the roofs of buildings, scraping along the wood and ice and the ruins as the wyvern did its utmost to get him off. He tried standing up or offering his persona, but it took so much willpower just to hold on that he couldn’t do much else. He tried crawling up so he could run – then a chimney came and slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to let go.

The pain was muted by the Cu Chulainn persona, but it still hurt. The wyvern flew a bit further before crashing down into the streets below. Wincing as he held his gut, he jumped down, moving carefully to catch his breath. He summoned Pixie to quickly fix him up before moving on, gun at the ready. On the street was the collapsed form of the wyvern, which gave one last shudder before it went still. That wasn’t what had Joker’s attention right now.

Rather, it was the doppelganger’s shadow, who had gotten off her evident mount and took the flag from the dead wyvern’s grasp. “You really think you could escape from Hell with this?” she hissed, her voice reverberating through the air. “In fact, you really think you could escape at all?! No, that’s not how it fucking works, you thief. If anything, I’d say this place is perfect for you – you’re a sinner. You deserve to rot here.”

Joker gulped as the shadow fully turned to face him. Her glowing yellow eyes drilled into him, her scowl unmistakable. He thought he would be used to shadows after dealing with so many like Shido or Sae, but this was different. He could practically feel the sheer bloodlust and rage emanating from her. “Well, I’ve escaped from tighter spots before,” he replied as casually as he could with a grin. “This won’t be any different.”

The shadow narrowed her eyes as she drew her blade. “I don’t think so,” she snarled. “Not this time. You and your group will rot here. I’ll see to it. And I’ll make sure this whole miserable country rots with you!”

The Master of Chaldea clicked his tongue. He needed to buy time for the others to track him, but would they even know where they are at this point? Reaching into his coat, he grabbed two bombs – and rolled out of the way as the shadow lunged forward, slicing the air where he had been a split second ago. Throwing one bomb at the ground, it erupted into a thick black smoke as Joker leaped back and out. The shadow screamed in rage as she began slashing about, trying to find where he went.

The second one, Joker tossed straight up into the air, where it exploded in a bright flash. That should be enough for Mona or the Servants to track his location. In the meantime, he needed to end things once and for all. He reached up once more to his face, his mask burning off once more.

“Cu Chulainn!”

The warrior persona came forth again, wielding the blood-red spear. It whirled the polearm expertly and settled into a crouch, its stoic expression once more breaking into a feral grin as the spear began exploding with prana. He needed to end this here and now. The Berserker had survived this as a cognition - there was little reason a Palace ruler wouldn’t survive it either. It would incapacitate her enough for him to retrieve her Treasure. The shadow burst through the smoke, but by that point it was too late…

“Gae Bolg!”

The crimson spear once more shot forward, ready to seek her heart. There should be no escape from this. For a second, time slowed. The spear was a red line as it streaked through the air. The shadow’s eyes widened, transfixed. Even if she could move or block, it would do nothing. The cursed spear had dictated that it would be her heart it would take, and therefore it would. There was nothing she could do as a figure rushed forward and pushed her to the side-

Gilles de Rais coughed up blood as the Gae Bolg pierced through his robes and straight into his heart. He had shoved the shadow away just in time for the spear to target him as opposed to her and paid the price for it. The persona withdrew its spear and vanished, leaving a hole that gushed out blood onto the ice below. The Caster collapsed to the ground, his hands over his wound in a vain effort to staunch the bleeding.

The shadow immediately ran and knelt to Gilles’s side, cradling him. “You goddamn MORON!” she screamed in rage. “Why did you do that?! You could’ve ambushed the Master or-or summoned more of your creatures to drag him away! Just… just anything else! Why did you do that?!?”

The Caster chuckled, a horrible gurgling sound as more blood bubbled out of his mouth. “M-my apologies,” he whispered. “But I c-could not fail to s-save you once again.” His breathing was labored, each breath refreshing the flow of vital fluids from his wound. “I moved as I c-could t-to save you, m-my dear J-Jeanne. And… and I’m p-proud to say, th-this time, I succeeded…”

He reached up to gently touch Jeanne’s face, his blood staining her skin. “Ah, my dear J-Jeanne,” he gasped. “I go to H-Him now for judgement. I shall burn, b-but it matters not. Y-you will see y-your campaign through and s-stand taller than all else. F-farewell, my dearest J-Jeanne. It… it truly was… an honor…” With that, his hand fell, and his body dissolved into black dust, leaving the shadow cradling empty air.

Joker had done nothing the entire time, unable to speak or breathe. The Gae Bolg had just taken the life of a person. It was a cognition, sure, but the effect would’ve been the same if he had used it on the shadow. It would’ve likely pierced her heart as well and killed her, which meant the real Servant would’ve undergone a mental shutdown. Had Gilles de Rais not interfered, then he would’ve-!

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar. Behind the shadow, buildings were smashed aside as the cognitive Satan slithered forth, its maws once more bloody and hungering. He immediately braced himself until he noticed that the shadow was unmoving. “Get out of there!” he shouted to the shadow desperately. “I’ll distract it – run!” And yet she didn’t. She was still kneeling there, motionless.

“You know, don’t you, false saint?”

The Phantom Thief froze at the voice, looking about for its source. But there could only be one source: The monster who was glaring down at the unmoving ruler of the Palace. It didn’t reach for her, nor did it rampage around. Its attention was focused solely on the shadow. “A sinner who condemns sinners is still a sinner,” it boomed. “To pretend otherwise is nothing more than folly. How many men have spilled blood for you? Died for you? How many have you massacred and killed, calling it justice when it was naught more than vengeance and pettiness?”

Hearing a sound behind him, he risked a glance back. The other Servants and Mona had arrived, with their eyes immediately widening at the cognitive Satan and the fact that it was speaking. They immediately took positions around Joker, ready to fight and retreat if necessary. None of them risked talking. It didn’t matter, however - The doppelganger was the sole focus of its attention.

“You shackled the minds of your underlings so they would follow your will,” it admonished. “You used dragons to burn and ravage those you had sworn at one point to save. You burned and condemned the priest who had you tried and executed. You are beyond all salvation. There shall be no repentance nor absolution. There shall only be torment, the same you would invite on your ‘people’, the same you for those who followed you to Hell. Jeanne d’Arc, as judge and executioner, I denounce you as guilty, and your suffering shall be infinite.”

“No!” Jeanne d’Arc screamed. “She deserves another chance! You are not the real Devil, merely a conjured monstrosity! Begone and trouble us no more!” Before anyone could stop her, she made to rush forward to fight off the cognitive Satan, raising her flag.

“Shut up.”

That one phrase from the shadow stopped everyone in their tracks. Slowly, she stood back up. “Condemn me?” she asked, her voice barely above a murmur. “Judge me? Save me? Are you mocking me? No. You have no right – none of you have that goddamn right. I bled, I fought, I saved all I could, only to be put up on a stake and burned for it! Did those I helped try to help me? Were the ones who condemned me also judged and punished? No. I had to fucking do all of that myself! I don’t need your pity, you naïve idiot. I don’t need salvation.”

She turned to glare at the cognitive Satan as her prana began building, filling the air with her malevolent power. “And I definitely don’t need this bastard judging me for my ‘crimes’!” she snarled. “You don’t have that right – no one does! It’s time you learned your fucking place!” With that, she burst into flame as she pointed her blade at the cognitive Satan who roared at her in turn, raising a claw to smash her to pieces.

“La Grondement Du Haine!” she roared.

The flames exploded from the shadow, blinding everyone in the vicinity as they spread across the ground. Through slitted eyes, Joker could see giant black spears erupting from the ground, piercing through the cognitive Satan, one after another as hellfire leaped up to incinerate it. The demon’s roars of pain filled the Palace before it was drowned out by the roar of the inferno.

After a moment, the light abated. They opened their eyes to look. The Palace had changed – before it was completely frozen, now flames raged throughout the ruins, consuming the flesh from the crucified victims. The air was incredibly hot and choking, as if they would burst into flame simply from being here. Embers leaped high up into the air, the sky now a cloud of ash and fire. And before them all was the lifeless corpse of the cognitive Satan, skewered on countless black spears.

The shadow turned around. Her pale hair had grown significantly to where it flowed down to her calves. Some of her armor had vanished, revealing considerably more skin and clothing, particularly around her shoulders, back, and thighs. She was still consumed by flame, though they took on a more purple tinge than the inferno around her, nor did she seem affected by them. Her glowing yellow eyes were resolute and powerful. This was hardly the same shadow as it was before.

More roars got their attention. All around them, demons and wyverns began perching and collecting, rapidly surrounding them. They were in just small packs or disparate numbers anymore. They had gathered into a horde united under one leader. No longer were they afraid. They were here to hunt down sinners and torment them until the end of days.

“Hear me, you wretches,” the shadow boomed out. “I was known as Jeanne d’Arc. I have bled and served for the salvation of France, and yet the only gratitude I was offered was a false trial and being burned at the stake. Now I have come back – not at God or the Devil’s behest, but my own. I am the Dragon Witch of Orleans. Just as this country was saved by me, so shall it burn under my will.”

She raised her blade – La Pucelle – at the group. “Do you wish to save the country once more, my naïve self?” she asked. “You have been wronged as well. Your grievances are my grievances. Fight with me, Jeanne d’Arc, and we shall seize what should be properly ours, and find retribution.”

The saint narrowed her eyes. “… No,” she declared. “You’re wrong. I have accepted my sacrifice and my trials. I fought to save France and her people, not to torment and kill them! Whoever you are, you are not me! As a sinner and heretic, it is my sworn duty to cast you down! Ready yourself!”

The Dragon Witch narrowed her eyes. "So be it,” she growled. “You will all burn.”

Then the wyverns, the demons, and the Witch, all charged as one.

Chapter Text

Joker and Mona had battled many Palace rulers before. Most of the time they took the form of disgusting monstrosities and had some sort of weapon or trump card they utilized – Kamoshida’s trophy, Kaneshiro’s mechanical pig, Sae’s roulette board. Okumura didn’t transform but sent legions of his robotic employees after them. All to tip the balance in their favor. And why wouldn’t they? It was their Palace.

The stronger ones kept their human form, if enhanced in some way – Shido looking like a wrestler if he took a pound of steroids every breakfast and Maruki with his golden outfit (though it was honestly closer to a Phantom Thief regalia than anything). They were strong but ultimately surmountable. Work with their friends, dismantle them, beat them. Straightforward.

However, nothing had prepared either of them for this.

The fight quickly devolved into a morass of chaos as scores of demons lunged from at all sides while wyverns swopped in, roaring. Archer and Kiyohime immediately began firing off arrows and fireballs respectively to ward off attacks from above as the rest began cutting down the demons swarming in. For every enemy Joker and Mona took out, three more seemed to spring up in their place. Even the fight with Okumura’s horde of employees wasn’t nearly as hectic as this.

Suddenly, Mash raced forward and raised her shield above them – in time to intercept a slew of spears made of darkness that burst into flame. They crashed against the metal, causing her to buckle slightly before they faded away. Looking over, Joker saw the Witch charge forward, her flag lowered with the point seeking to impale Mash’s gut.

“Cu Chulainn!”

The persona burst forth, whirling its red spear. The polearm crashed against the flag in a shower of sparks before rapidly jabbing away at the shadow, forcing her back. It faded away as Ren lifted his pistol firing a volley of shots that the Witch quickly deflected, her blade moving with inhuman speeds. It gave Mash the opening needed to reset her stance – just in time to shove off another demon and become preoccupied with yet another pack that leaped in. “S-senpai!” she cried.

“Don’t worry, Mash, I got this!” Joker called back, not taking her eyes off the Palace ruler. At least, that was what he said. She hadn’t transformed except for her hair lengthening and the wardrobe change, but the pressure that came from her was immense. Far more than he had felt before from her or from her self in reality.  

Despite his nervousness, he mustered up a grin. “Cute wardrobe,” he called out as he transformed his weapon into its knife form. “You got a tailor? Maybe yours and mine can trade tips!” He held up his bloodstained glove. “They might even have similar fashion sense!”

“Still playing the wise guy, huh?” the Witch noted scornfully. Kicking off the sooty ground, she charged once more at Joker, who barely raised his knife in time to intercept the blow. The sheer strength of the swing threw him back, almost into the back of Siegfried who was cutting down another pack of demons. This was far different from the time when he fought her within Archer’s Pala – reality marble. If he didn’t take this seriously, he was dead.

“Satan!”

The blue monstrosity burst out once more in the air behind him. The Witch’s eyes widened, pupils shrinking. The persona pointed at her and engulfed her in ice, freezing her into a pillar. Not two seconds later, however, the ice began cracking as flames erupted before shattering in a loud crash, the shards immediately evaporating under her wrath. “You dare?!” she snarled. “You try to pull that shit on me again?! I told you, none of you have the right to judge me! So get out of my goddamn way or BURN!”

Her roar was the only warning before the flames around them intensified, leaping into the air. Joker only sensed danger and dove aside moments before another batch of black spears burst from the ground where he had been standing. He switched from Satan back to Cu Chulainn. Okay, provoking her with Satan was definitely a bad idea. Whatever feeling the cognition caused, she was now throwing off with nothing but sheer rage. In a way, admirable – but that only made things more complicated.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much in terms of backup. Literally everyone else was busy fending off the horde all around them. While Siegfried and Georgios were known dragonslayers, they couldn’t exactly reach up with their blades easily to cut down the wyverns. Mona was busy supporting everyone else, distributing power ups or heals as necessary while still fending off the demons and wyverns in his own right.

As much as Joker wanted to take on the Witch alone and leave it to everyone else, he couldn’t. She was simply too strong and powerful for him to do so. Going against her was a suicide wish. “We need to clear everything else,” he called out behind him before lunging at the Witch again. She swiftly deflected and stuck back, the two dancing with their flurry of slashes causing a shower of sparks everywhere. “Anyone got any ideas?”

Elizabeth grinned. “Glad you asked, puppy!” she yelled back. She whirled her spear above her and slammed the point into the ground. A glowing pink portal appeared underneath her as a miniature (only in the sense that it wasn’t full size) castle rose up out of the portal, much to the surprise of the demons, wyvern, and the Witch. Mounted on the castle were gigantic speakers as the Lancer rode the rising castle, grinning from ear to ear.

“Báthory Erzsébet!” she called out cheerfully.

The amount of power pouring out of the Noble Phantasm never failed to catch him off guard, but it was certainly a reassuring feeling to have it on his side. He heard a shift of movement behind him and spun around – just in time to summon Cu Chulainn and have him bat away the spears shooting for Elizabeth. “Already bored of me?” he asked, shooting a mocking grin at the Witch. “I’m honestly hurt by that!”

“Do you ever shut up?!” she screamed in response, lunging at him with her flag.

Kiyohime stared critically at the castle before turning back to the horde on the other side of the group. “Hmph, how inelegant,” she muttered, opening her fan and holding it in front of her, ignoring the catlike Master who was still staring up at it whimpering. She concentrated her own prana, the temperature increasing around her rapidly, even compared to the stifling heat around them. “Watch over me,” she intoned. “As of now, I’ll eliminate the liar.” Then she waved her fan.

“Tenshin Kashō Zanmai!”

A serpentine dragon made of blue flame twisted into being out of the ground around Kiyohime as it rose into the air, glaring at the demons. The Berserker pointed with her fan and the dragon rushed forward, the ground around and under it bursting into blue flames – and taking its victims with it. It easily swam through the air, incinerating both demons and wyverns on the ground and in the air alike. Joker could see it all from the corner of his eye.  

Suddenly, he was extremely glad for how relatively calm Kiyohime had been dealing with him, all things considered.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth took a deep breath and let out her note once more. “LAAAAAAA~!” she sang. Those around her, friend and foe, winced in pain as it felt like needles were boring into their ears. Ren thought that because it was sound, maybe Cu Chulainn would do something to block it. If the persona was blocking the pain that came from the sound, then he hated to think how everyone else was taking it. It still hurt – a lot. And looking at the Dragon Witch’s expression, she was feeling the effects as well.  

That paled in comparison to the hapless demons and wyverns who were in front of the castle, however. The speakers amplified her voice to absurd degrees, blasting them to oblivion. They either disintegrated on the spot or were flung back, THEN disintegrated upon landing. None of them could withstand the power that was Elizabeth’s voice. This included Morgana, who was rolling on the ground and trying to press his ears against his head to block out as much sound as possible.

By the end, the area around them was bathed with blue flame from Kiyohime’s noble phantasm, while Elizabeth’s had carved a circular channel through the streets and buildings. The Lancer’s castle sank back into the ground as the dragon dissipated. There were still a couple packs of wyverns and demons who were more than ready to attack, but it was still far better than the horde they were facing just moments ago.  

However, that didn’t improve the Dragon Witch’s temper. “So, in the end, I still have to take care of everything by my goddamn self,” she snarled, her grip tightening around her flag and sword as flames began emanating from her once more. “Well, let’s go then – the fires of hell will burn all of you to cinders. Everything will!”

Jeanne gulped and stepped forward. The other Servants moved to deal with the last stragglers. In the end, it was Jeanne, Joker, Mona, and Mash. “Please, won’t you reconsider?” the saint pleaded. “We may have grave injustices done to us, but to drag innocents into this is nothing short of madness and evil. Please, I beg you – stand down so that we may resolve this in a peaceful manner.”

The Witch was silent for a moment. The four held their breath. Then she let out a breath. And slowly she began to laugh, louder and louder, until it was a mad howl that drowned out the flames of both Hell and Kiyohime. “Are you seriously asking for that even now?!” she screamed. “After everything you have been through?! After all you’ve seen me do!? You must be the most idiotic creature to walk the face of this godforsaken planet! Oh, this is beyond rich!”  

She continued howling with laughter, eventually dwindling down to silence. When she faced them again, her face was nothing more than a mask of sheer contempt and rage. “You know and understand nothing,” she snarled. “You think what happened to us was an isolated thing? No. It’s gonna happen again and again. Once a person has run their course, be they saint or sinner, they’ll be tossed aside like so much chaff. No one will save them. Not a king, not a judge, and certainly not God. I’ll burn everything to the ground and have everything start from the soot.”  

Her mouth turned into an utterly twisted smile. “You love Him so much?” she asked mockingly. “Fine. I’ll kill every single person and burn them all. Let God sort them out. Sounds fair, don’t you think?! Don’t see what you have to complain about now!”

The saint took a deep breath. “… I tried,” she murmured. “I truly wanted to steer you to the right path again. To shepherd you as He did for me. But you will not listen to reason.” Jeanne raised her flag. “I will put a stop to your madness, here and now,” she declared.

Joker grinned. “Well said, Jeanne,” he complimented, lowering himself into a stance with knife in hand. Mash and Mona did so as well. The Dragon Witch snarled as she charged forward, ablaze.

—-------

Roman rubbed his eyes as he monitored the screen. The vitals of Ren, Mash, and Morgana were still bouncing around everywhere with very odd readings he only got when they vanished. The Servants they had gone with were still stable as well though unchanged in comparison. Frankly, it drove him crazy – here he was supposed to be the acting director of Chaldea and keeping tabs for the Masters but he was left completely in the dark.  

And Da Vinci, who was standing beside him staring at the monitor, was no help either. The requests Morgana had given here were certainly odd and vague, but the Caster seemed to have absolutely no trouble figuring out what he meant and had them all ready within the night. And when Roman asked about it, all he got was a finger to her lips and a “That’s a secret between the ragazzo, the catto, and me~”

He sighed. Well, he was putting a lot of faith in both Ren and Morgana. Mash seemed to vouch for them, so there was really nothing they could do now except wait. The debriefing after this singularity certainly promised to be interesting, to put it mildly. He was thinking what branch of magecraft the two specialized in but given the wide assortment, it was extraordinarily difficult to pin down. Summoning their own beings of legend which included divine spirits with elemental magic of their own?

If the Clock Tower or the Church ever heard about this along with everything else, the two of them would be slapped with so many sealing designations that their heads would spin. He swore to himself that he would never allow that to happen.

“Hey, uh, doc?” one of the analysts piped up worriedly. “I’m getting some activity here for Orleans. Really big readings, and they don’t look good at all”

The interim director blinked with surprise and switched windows from the Masters’ and Mash’s vitals to the maps of France – and his mouth nearly dropped open. To say there was ‘some activity’ or ‘really big’ was fiercely underselling it. The wyverns and ghouls that had been holing up Orleans were scattering from the city in multiple directions like ants marching from the anthill. Coupled with that were new readings he hadn’t seen before up until now – and what he did see sent shivers up his spine.

He immediately tried hailing for the ground team. No luck. “Do any of you have any readings whatsoever on Ren, Morgana, Mash, or the Servants?” he demanded, panicked. “Anything at all?!” Beside him, he could hear Da Vinci stepping forward to take a closer look at the monitor, her enjoyment replaced with utmost seriousness at the development.

“No, sir!” called back another voice. “I’m scouring all of France for any trace of their signal and about to move even beyond that but so far, I’ve got nothing! It’s like they vanished from the world altogether!”

Vanished from the – he checked back to the vitals again. Despite the strange readings, there was nothing that indicated their health was out of any extreme parameters for the most part. That shouldn’t be possible. The fact he could still get their vitals and they’re relatively stable meant they were still in the singularity in some form or function. But how could they be there and not there at the same time? Perhaps a reality marble? But he didn’t detect any explosion or concentrated source of prana that came from one.  

But that would mean… he licked his dry lips. Was it possible they entered some other texture of the World? But such a feat shouldn’t be possible! Any magus would be frothing at the mouth for such a mystery, and Ren and Morgana weren’t magi in the slightest! Their circuits had only appeared after they were marooned on the first singularity!  

The only other location he could think of they could’ve slipped into would be Imaginary Space. However, that also seemed highly unlikely for many reasons. It wasn’t an easy place to access for any magi, let alone two people who hadn’t been mages until just a few days ago. Not to mention, it was an absurdly dangerous location. Daemons traveled through it and navigation was borderline impossible without a great amount of assistance. Still, what other options were there? It was basically either going to another texture (impossible) or Imaginary Space (extraordinarily unlikely).

Shaking, he reached over to grab his cup of coffee to take a calming sip – and only found the cup had long been drained dry. He could only sigh as he put the cup down and helplessly watched the monsters swarming from Orleans. The doppelganger and her Servants haven’t moved themselves but that was only a small comfort, especially compared to the horde pouring out.

He didn’t have nearly enough coffee for this…

----------

Mash charged forward and intercepted the Witch’s blade, her sword locked against her shield as sparks flew off. Joker and Mona immediately charged into her flanks with knife and scimitar respectively, forcing her to retreat – and dodge a flag thrust by Jeanne. With a scowl, the Witch summoned more dark spears and bombarded them. They quickly moved aside, each spear hitting the ground causing an eruption of purple flames.

It had been a while since Joker had been pushed to such a degree. There were four of them and one of the shadow, but she was nimble and skilled. The others were busy dealing or fending off the demons and wyverns as more trickled in, meaning they couldn’t assist in subjugating the Witch in turn. It couldn’t be helped but it certainly made matters harder.

As Jeanne went in for another stab, the Witch deflected with her own flag and kicked hard, causing Jeanne to fly backward and crash on the ground. Before she could capitalize on the fallen saint, both Joker and Mash rushed in to pressure her once more, depriving her of the opportunity.

“Diego!” Mona cried.

With another burst of blue flame, the blue musketeer once more appeared and traced a pattern in the air. A glowing green light flashed around Jeanne as she stood up, her wound rapidly closing. “My thanks, Morgana,” the saint called to the catlike Servant gratefully. Before she could charge back in, the Dragon Witch roared as she stabbed her sword into the ground, causing the area around her to explode and knocking Mash and Joker back.

Joker backflipped backward as he did and changed his knife to a gun, firing a volley at the Witch in the air. This time, she was a bit slower to react as several bullets found their mark, piercing her armor into her flesh, one brushing past her cheek and leaving a scratch. Roaring with pain, she summoned more dark spears – and was unable to send them as blades of wind crashed against her, tearing through her.

As the fight continued, it was becoming extremely clear: The Witch was far stronger than any of them individually, but she couldn’t handle all four of them combined. Working in tandem, they all covered one another or followed up on attacks, not allowing her to gain any momentum. Frankly, if the other Servants were able to join in, it would’ve been a rather trivial matter to deal with her immediately. Joker considered using the Gae Bolg to immediately end the fight multiple times.

Then he remembered the cognitive Gilles de Rais dying in the Witch’s arms. No. He wasn’t going to kill her shadow. Inducing a mental shutdown was a line he didn’t want to cross if he could help it at all. He had to retain something from being a Phantom Thief, no matter how impossible it was.

A combination of a shot to the face from Mona’s slingshot combined with a bullet to the knee from Joker sent the Dragon Witch crashing to the ground, panting heavily. The other four were okay thanks to Joker and Mona’s healing personas, but the fight had certainly been draining. “You think… you think you can win?!” she panted out. “I’m the Dragon Witch, damnit! This country, this world… I saved it, I can burn it down! If you think I’m going to let any of you get in my way-!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard this speech a thousand times before,” Mona scoffed. “Unfortunately for you, the only thing you’re gonna end up burning is a matchstick! Joker? Wanna do the honors?”

Joker grinned. Ah, this position again. “Jeanne, try to keep up with us!” he called out to the surprised saint before rushing in. Summoning Cu Chulainn once more, the persona rapidly stabbed the Witch and flung her into the air, followed by Joker doing a passing slice before whirling around, switching his knife into a gun and putting more bullets in her. Mona moved after, quickly running in and keeping the Witch in the air with the winds from Diego before jumping in the air, curling up, and spinning like a buzzsaw with his scimitar sticking out, cutting the Witch as he did so.

Next came Mash, who charged in and bashed the Witch with her shield with a fierce uppercut before ramming her upwards. Finally, Jeanne, who had seen what was going on, finished off with her flag, doing two jabs before swinging her flag down, smashing the Dragon Witch into the ground. The four backed off with their weapons ready, waiting to see her reaction… and backed up even further as purple flames erupted from her.

Slowly, the Dragon Witch stood back up, using her flag to support her. She was bruised and bleeding in multiple places, her armor cracked and shattered. The fury in her eyes hadn’t diminished whatsoever as she glared hatefully up at all of them. It was clear she was on her last legs, yet Joker couldn’t help but feel a shiver down his spine. “Fine,” the Witch growled. “You want me dead so badly?! Then I’ll burn. And you’ll burn. And everyone will burn! I’ll burn everyone with me!” The flames began getting hotter and hotter, pulsing around the Witch. Joker’s eyes widened as his grip tightened on his gun. He had a clear shot. Cu Chulainn was also at the forefront as well. He could end right here and now. But he hesitated. If he did any of that, then that would mean-

“Enough of this!”

The one who caught their attention was Jeanne d’Arc who stepped forward once more. She looked determined, but instead of any anger or killing intent, she seemed far more sorrowful instead. “You call yourself me,” she yelled over the rage. “But tell me, why do I not see the people here we should know? We’ve met, talked to, and fought for so many before our death! Where are they?”

The Dragon Witch sneered. “You think I remember every bitch and bastard I ever killed?!” she snapped. “I got that damn priest, the Dauphin, and that Burgundian Lord. That’s all I care about! Everyone else is just goddamn tinder in the way!”

“You know that’s not true!” the saint cried. “Do you remember Pierre, the innkeep who gave us that tiny flagon of ale to try for the first time and we nearly spat it out everywhere? How he and the others around us laughed and laughed. Or Francois, the soldier who talked to us about maintaining our sword so it wouldn’t rust and get stuck in our sheath? He always had some little song about maintenance that was… well, ‘obscene’ would be the closest word for it. I still blush every time I think about it as I cared for my own.

The doppelganger didn’t answer. She still glared at the saint hatefully but something else crept into her eyes: Trepidation. Doubt. Fear. They got the better of her as she looked over at La Pucelle, still in her hand, still burning. The saint wouldn’t lie about this. Her younger, naïve self could never do such a thing, especially now. She remembered those people clear as day, yet as the Witch looked at her blade, she couldn’t remember any such men. What… what did that mean?

Jeanne watched the Witch as she looked down at her blade. Tears started spilling from her eyes. “Do… do you remember mama and papa?” she whispered to her, somehow still audible despite the flames. “Our brothers and sister? I never forgot them. I prayed for them as I marched with my men, I prayed for them as I held audiences with the Dauphin and the various lords and generals. And… I prayed for them still, even on the eve of my execution. Beside the Lord, they were the dearest treasures to my heart.” She gulped as she stared plaintively at her doppelganger in the eye.

“So please, tell me, my other self… if everyone should be in Hell, then where are they in here?”

The Dragon Witch opened her mouth to respond… and closed it again, with her flames diminishing. The realization dripped in steadily that she had no memories at all: Of her family, of her friends, her comrades, nothing. All she had were the memories of the trial and her execution, and everything that came after. She still burned with the injustice of it all, but without the memories of what she fought for and everything that came before, then what exactly did that make her?

She scowled as a new rage lit within her heart, one born of desperation rather than vengeance now. “So what,” she snarled. “So what if I don’t remember them?! It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t change what happened to me! I’ll see everything through, and everything will burn! And you can just shut your mouth! I’m beyond sick of your preaching!” With that, the Dragon Witch charged toward the saint with La Pucelle raised, roaring. Jeanne d’Arc stared sadly at her counterpart…

… and dropped her flag.

La Pucelle pierced through her armor and her gut to the other side of her body. Joker, Mona, and Mash cried out, about to advance, but a raised gauntleted hand from Jeanne stopped them. The Witch’s eyes were wide with shock as she looked up at the saint. “What the – a-are you taking pity on me?” she growled. “What the hell are you doing?! Why aren’t you defending yourself?! You’re the goddamn Maid of Orleans, aren’t you?! Pick up that flag and defend yourself, damnit! Th-this… this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”

Jeanne smiled, despite a bit of blood escaping from her lips. “Because I wished to meet your rage head-on,” she murmured kindly. “Perhaps you are not me, and that is a wonderful thing. The rage you carry within you was against a cruel injustice, simply untempered by other experiences. But now that you realize, you can be someone else, something else: Your own person. You can choose your own path. If fury and rage is still what you feel, then now the choice is yours to direct where you will.”

“My… own path?” the Witch echoed hollowly.

The saint’s smile widened. Despite the sword in her gut, she stepped forward and embraced her doppelganger. “He is merciful to saint and sinner alike,” she whispered. “I cannot absolve you of your sins and these deaths, nor would you accept them. However, at the very least, you can choose something else. Not as the vengeance or shadow of Jeanne d’Arc, but just… well, you.” She drew back and beamed. “Is that not a most wondrous miracle in the end?”

The Dragon Witch let out a shaky breath. La Pucelle dissolved as she dropped on her knees, her own flag crashing to the ground. The other three immediately rushed forward, with Joker summoning Pixie to fix the hole in Jeanne’s gut. “My own person, huh?” she chuckled, the sound hollow and bitter. “And here I was, thinking I was doing something by my own will instead of His. Instead, I was still just as bound as I was before.” The Witch sighed. “I’m tired,” she murmured. “I’m really freaking tired. I should probably get back to my actual self. I… I got a lot to think about, it seems like.” She glanced up at Jeanne. “For the record, I still think you’re insufferably naïve and dumb.”

Jeanne smiled. “Is that your own thought?” she asked.

The Witch blinked in surprise, then barked out in genuine mirthful laughter. “You’re damn right it is, saint!” she declared as she began glowing, her body fading out. “Looks like there’ll be a lot of clean-up to do. Might as well leave you lot to it. See you guys soon enough.” With that, she faded away, her body dissipating into sparkling motes of light.

Mash blinked in surprise. “Is… is it over?” she asked as she lowered her shield. All around them, the demons and wyverns dissipated into black dust, leaving the other Servants fighting thin air.

“Yeah, it is,” Mona confirmed as Joker picked up the Witch’s flag. “She’s gone back to her conscious self. We’ve succeeded in changing her heart. All we need to do is to –“ Suddenly, the entire place rocked as if an earthquake hit. The buildings around them began crumbling. “We need to get out of here!” Mona hurriedly finished. “With a change of heart, the Palace will collapse – and if we don’t get out of here, it’ll take us with it! Joker!”

Joker looked over as Mona jumped up. With a glow of light, he transformed – into a black minibus, with headlights resembling Mona’s blue eyes and a pair of large cat ears sticking out from the top. Joker had to grin. He hadn’t seen this in a while. He caught everyone staring, flabbergasted. “Everyone, get in!” he commanded. “We gotta go, now!”

His shout startled them out of their shock and they immediately boarded the bus. “Allow me to drive, Master,” Saber stated, stepping forward. That caught Joker by surprise, but with her sheer confidence and charisma, he almost reflexively stood aside, quickly taking shotgun. With Mash, Archer, Siegfried, Jeanne, Elizabeth, and Kiyohime packed in, it was a bit cramped though not unduly – not that anyone would complain right now.

Saber’s hands flew as she changed gears and put pedal to the metal, with the Morganamobile blazing down the streets. Her green eyes focused as she dodged collapsing buildings and shards of ice with ease, swerving and drifting around corners while adjusting for the ice. Everyone in the car hung on for dear life. Joker and Mona had to admit, they didn’t expect Saber to be such an amazing driver, but they certainly weren’t going to complain. To the side, they could see the castle collapsing with a deafening boom as they went down the street that they entered the Palace in. They got closer and closer to the point –

And in the next moment, they were out, with everyone sprawling on the ground as Morgana was forced back into his cat form. Ren caught his breath as he lay on the grass, back in his Master uniform once more. That was certainly a hassle. But it was a successful mission without any more deaths. That was all he could ask for.

Suddenly, his communicator rang. He tiredly reached over to hit it, and once more saw Roman’s panicked face. “Ren, what’s going on over there?!” he demanded. “The readings have been going crazy! The wyverns and ghouls are collapsing and dissolving, the Servants are vanishing, and – wait, what’s that huge prana signature at your location? Wait… it… it can’t be…”

Ren blinked with surprise. Oh right. He picked up the Treasure from the doppelganger’s Palace. He glanced at his hand… and his eyes widened in surprise at what he held.

A Grail.

“I- wh- how did-!” Roman stammered, completely at a loss for words. He checked the readings once more. “W-we’re still d-detecting a Grail signature w-within Orleans,” he stuttered before looking back at the screen with Ren holding up the Grail. “Where… where the hell did that… how… Ren, what on Earth did you do?!”

Ren chuckled uneasily, noting that literally everyone else was staring wide-eyed at the Grail. Another surprise in a day full of surprises. “Part of what I need to explain once I get back,” he admitted. “Shouldn’t be too much longer though. We got things resolved. We’ll grab the other Grail and be on our way.”

Roman could only just stare at Ren before collapsing in his chair. “Yes, yes, of course,” he replied, defeated. He knew he wasn’t going to get any answers at this point – only a massive headache that was only getting worse. “Just… report back when you’re done so we can get you back to Chaldea. I’ll… I’ll keep monitoring things from here.”

He reached over to end the communication. His finger missed the button – though he didn’t notice in time before his head collapsed on the desk, groaning loudly in frustration. Da Vinci leaned in with an enormous, very amused smile and waved. “Ciao!” she called over cheerfully before ending the communication herself.

Ren shook his head as he turned off his own communicator before looking over at the Grail. “Master, where… where did that come from?” Saber asked, looking incredibly nonplussed that he had one in his hand. Well, given it was a powerful magical artifact, he couldn’t exactly blame everyone’s reactions to it.

“A Treasure is what caused the distortion and formed the Palace to begin with,” he explained as he held up the Grail. “Meaning this was the source of her distortion. It’s as genuine an article as the actual thing. The actual Grail would still be where the Witch keeps it. Mash, think you can stow this away?”

The Shielder blinked from gawking at the Grail. “Um, o-of course, senpai!” she replied with surprise as she took the Grail handed to her, stowing it behind her shield with their other supplies. She really wasn’t sure what to think at this point. Just as her senpai had done one impossible thing, he goes and does yet another. She would be present for the debriefing after this singularity – there were simply too many things to go over to debrief all of them separately.

“We’ll answer any questions later on but for now, we should get going,” Morgana said, looking over to Orleans. “The sooner we can get the Grail, the sooner we can get out of here. Normally it can take a few days to weeks for a change of heart to occur, but I don’t think we have that kind of time. Also, she should still be feeling the effects regardless, if what Roman told us about her Servants and the wyverns is true.” Everyone nodded and proceeded towards Orleans.

-----------

The ruined city was far emptier now, allowing them to see the crumbling ruins and former splendor of the place. Ren glanced over at Jeanne, worried about how she felt. Jeanne for her part only gazed upon the ruins forlornly, bowing her head in a quiet prayer. Despite that, she kept marching on, not slowing down even a bit. He had to admire her resolve on that front.

The castle itself was empty. No signs of tentacled monstrosities or other Servants. The castle was eerily quiet all things considered, with even the distant roars of any remaining wyverns being muffled by the stone ruins. Nevertheless, they all took their regular formations. They would rather not get ambushed if they could help it. They moved through hallways and up multiple flights of stairs. It was… a different experience than going through the Palace’s castle.

Ren couldn’t help but feel a shiver up his spine. It felt like when he went back into Shujin after infiltrating Kamoshida’s Palace. For days after, despite the students in the halls, he still expected to see a shadow stomping around a corner. Ryuji and Ann had told him the same one of their hangouts later. It was a disturbing feeling.

Eventually, they came to the throne room and stepped in. It was surprisingly well maintained still, with sunlight filtering into the grand hall. It definitely felt far different than when it was completely frozen over and the crucifixes of three men standing in the middle. On the throne was the doppelganger, her head buried in her hands, and the robed Gilles de Rais, shaking her urgently by her side.

At their entrance, the Caster immediately looked up, his bulging eyes narrowing in pure, undiluted rage. “You, you did this!” he spat, moving protectively in front of the doppelganger. “You are the ones who brought my dear Jeanne so low! The ones who defiled her! Tainted her! Especially… you!” He pointed to Ren in sheer hatred. “She told me about you, you abomination!” he snarled. “One who would bring angels and demons side by side to bear! An affront is what you are! An affront to His works and His will! You truly are nothing but a monstrosity!”

“That is enough, Gilles!” Jeanne shouted, stepping forward. “You are a captain of France and sworn to defend her people! Please! This fight is over, Stand aside!”

Gilles’s eyes bulged even further (how that was even possible is best not explored) at the sight of the saint. “You… you would dare, you vile abomination?!” he snarled again, glaring at Ren. If hate could be manifested into laser beams, Ren was certain he would be flash-fried on the spot. “No, no! I will not allow this! I will not allow you to defy all we have worked towards!” He opened his book – and got an arrow right into his gut, courtesy of Archer.

The red-mantled Servant clicked his tongue. He reflexively aimed lower as a respect for Jeanne but all his instincts were flaring up. He should’ve aimed for the head. An instant later, he was proved correct as a portal underneath Gilles opened and countless tentacles wrapped around him. Nocking another arrow, he fired another directly at the Caster’s head, only for it to be intercepted by another tentacle bursting out of the ground. The other Servants charged in but were similarly intercepted.

Finally, the doppelganger stirred. Her face was tear-soaked, her eyes red – and they widened as she witnessed all the tentacles. “What the-“ she murmured before turning to the mad Caster. “Gilles, I ordered you to stand down! The campaign is over! I-I don’t want to do this anymore! Too many are already dead and it’s my fucking fault!”

The Caster blinked and turned. His face morphed into one of inconsolable grief and sadness. “Ah, my Jeanne,” he whimpered. “My dearest, dearest Jeanne. They have wreaked their black magics on you and tainted you. No more do the fires of salvation burn within you. But no matter. The Grail has responded to my wishes once. It shall respond again.” He took out the Grail as the entire castle rumbled. The portal quickly started enlarging underneath him.

Tentacles shot out and grabbed the doppelganger. “Wh-what are you doing, Gilles?!” she demanded, a note of panic in her voice as she struggled. “Listen to me, damn you! I ordered you to stand down!” Her eyes widened as a hideous maw emerged.

“Ah, my dear Jeanne, do not fret,” Gilles cooed. “I shall deal with these heretics and kill that abomination. After that, you will be birthed anew with your fire and spirit once more. Never fear. But for now, for now, I shall take you to bosom, so that you may be renewed. Please, wait for me my dear Jeanne!”

“Gilles, you bastard – NO!” Those were her last words as the maw reached up and devoured her, cutting off her words into screams of pain and torment. Unfortunately, neither Master nor Servant would be able to reach her in time. The Caster reached into his robe and pulled out a Grail as well – the one sustaining Orleans, and he dropped it into the bloody maw of the creature. The castle began quaking even more.

“Senpai, we have to retreat!” Mash cried out desperately as she fended off another tentacle.

Ren and Morgana barely heard her, trying to process the horror before them. They had stolen her heart. It was supposed to be their victory. Yet Gilles took everything from them in an instant and put the doppelganger through a far worse fate than they had ever planned. They had made a critical mistake.

Archer clicked his tongue. Rather than wasting more words, he quickly grabbed Ren underneath his arm and Morgana in his other hand. With that, everyone began dashing out of the castle as the tremors got even worse. They barely got out of the castle in time before it exploded, unveiling a gigantic tentacled monstrosity that reached into the sky.

“Oh God! How I love thee! How I reject thee!” Gilles screamed into the sky as his monstrosity kept ascending. “You who shows mercy and compassion to all, even your lowliest subject! You who cruelly torments and delights in their suffering for your enjoyment! I praise your name! I curse your name! The venerated saint shall be reborn, and her flames shall scorch your very gates! O Father in Heaven, hallowed be thy name! Witness your majesty and glory! May you be terrified and delighted! I shall bring it all to bear in thy name!”

Only once they escaped to the outskirts did they dare turn around. No one could have expected the sight that awaited them: A gigantic, tentacled monstrosity, its countless boneless limbs lashing out and easily crushing the buildings underneath like they were made of twigs. The figure of Gilles de Rais could barely be seen above its head before sinking into the creature. The smaller monstrosities they faced in the Palace were horrific, but nothing compared to the sheer dread and horror they felt facing this thing.

They were exhausted and drained from the Palace and the shadow, but it seemed their fight wasn’t over yet.

—-------

She could barely constitute her thoughts anymore. One moment she was outside in the throne room, hit with wave after wave of guilt until it washed away her rage and vengeance, leaving her barely comprehensible. The next, she had been taken by Gilles’s monstrosity and devoured alive. Ha. A monster devoured by a bigger monster. What a fitting way it should end.

Was she whole or was she in pieces? She couldn’t tell. The creature wasn’t the cleanest eater. She was surprised she could even think at all. Were any of her other victims here as well? How many did this thing devour? Was the saint’s group here as well? No, they probably escaped. They weren’t the ones that needed to face punishment, after all. She was the one who spilled countless amounts of blood through dragonfire and her own blade, then defiled their bodies by raising them as undead ghouls.

Sin upon sin upon sin she had committed. And it would all end here. It was surprisingly painless, almost like being lulled to sleep. But she knew it was just a prelude. She would awaken again and when she did, it would be the flames of Hell that would greet her. Or would it be ice? That Master’s creature was the Devil, after all, and it used ice. Either way promised eternal torment.

Then she saw… no, she didn’t see. She wasn’t sure she had eyes left. She felt. A presence infinitely stronger than her own. Whole and powerful. Almost unconsciously, she reached for it. Perhaps this power here would allow her to right her wrongs, grant some atonement. She was still the Dragon Witch, but perhaps she would be able to undo a bit of the damage. She would still be condemned without a doubt, but purgatory would be long and harsh anyway. Might as well do what she could.

As she approached, a vast consciousness brushed up against hers. It felt powerful, foreign. It was a power she hadn’t felt from anything before. And at that very moment, she was afraid again. Who are you? she asked.

There was silence. Then the voice of legion answered her.

We are Orobas.

Chapter Text

The gigantic creature rampaged, its limbs obliterating what little remained of the city. Wyverns tried to flee, shrieking in sheer panic before being caught by the tentacles and dragged into waiting maws, their cries silenced with disgusting squelches that echoed through the air. The only blessing was that it wasn’t exactly mobile – there were no clear appendages that allowed it to move whatsoever, forcing it to remain stationary. However, given the sheer number of giant flailing tentacles about, that hardly mattered.

Ren and Morgana could only stare at the creature. It was something out of a movie – no, a nightmare. A being like this wasn’t natural. It didn’t feel natural whatsoever. Even more so, something within them felt… incredibly opposed to its very existence. Was it their personas? Were they rejecting this creature even worse than they were?

The image of seeing the doppelganger eaten alive was still fresh in their mind. Combined with the exhaustion of exiting a Palace and the fact they had just finished a fight with the doppelganger’s shadow… neither Master could stop themselves from crashing to the ground. “Senpai?!” a shocked Mash cried out, running to Ren’s side. The other Servants immediately took notice and formed a defensive cordon around them, with both Saber and Archer also moving to the Masters.

“S-sorry guys, just a bit tired,” Ren reassured them, trying to muster up a smile – and failing miserably. On top of the physical exhaustion from everything, there were a lot of emotions the two were wrestling through as well. They had successfully changed the doppelganger’s heart; her words and actions proved it. That was supposed to be it. They should’ve been able to grab her Grail and head out.

Instead, they had been so focused on their typical methods that they made a crucial mistake: They had forgotten who the Palace ruler was surrounded by. From what little Sae had told them, many of Shido’s cronies had done everything they could to cover up Shido’s change of heart. Granted, it was ultimately because of Yaldabaoth that much of his deeds were able to be concealed in the first place, but it was still an important factor they hadn’t considered.

Archer meanwhile gazed at the monster, frowning. “We can rest a little, Masters,” he suddenly announced.

That caught Ren’s, Morgana’s, and Mash’s attention. “Wh-what?” Morgana stuttered, blinking. “Archer, what the hell are you talking about?! We gotta deal with that… thing of Gilles’! You can see how much destruction it’s wreaking right now. If we don’t do something-!”

“Then it won’t do anything,” Archer concluded for Morgana calmly. He pointed to the monstrosity still wrecking Orleans. “Caster’s creature is currently only destroying the city,” he explained. “The city is already in ruins with no civilians, or really any living humans within. It’s also completely immobile as well as there are no legs, tendrils, or any other means of locomotion that we can tell. It’s not leaking any particular miasma nor is it spawning more creatures to invade other territories. And even if it could move, it would seem Caster is more concerned about destroying the immediate vicinity than even targeting us.”

Blinking, the three turned to the horrific monstrosity. Indeed, besides razing the city to the ground, Gilles didn’t seem to be interested in doing much else – well, other than laughing and ranting maniacally. “At the moment, you’re exhausted,” Archer stated, looking back at them, looking them over critically. “Take a moment to catch your breath. We have some time to deal with Gilles. We’ll move if he does anything else.”

“But there’s no time,” Ren objected. “If we leave him alone, it’ll just give him time to do something worse! We need to-!”

“Archer is right, Ren,” Jeanne cut in. She had torn her horrified gaze away from the city to look upon the Masters. “Even in a situation such as this – no, especially because of a situation like this that we must be well rested and prepared.” She turned back to the city where Gilles was still rampaging. “After all, we… we must stop him,” she whispered. It was clear she was fighting back tears. “This madness of Gilles – it has to stop. We will stop it.”

Ren and Morgana looked up at Jeanne in surprise. They couldn’t argue against her – this was her home, and their opponent was someone she knew personally. If she was the one suggesting they rested, then there was no arguing that point. Nevertheless, sitting down here not being able to do anything as it rampaged made them deeply restless.  “Fine, we’ll take a break,” Ren relented with a frustrated sigh. “Still, we have to do something about Gilles. Anyone have an idea?”

Saber was silent as she considered. Then she nodded. “My noble phantasm should be able to eliminate him,” she stated. Her tone was calm and level. It wasn’t one of confidence or reassurance – it was a tone of absolute surety.

The Masters blinked. “You mean the hurricane?” Morgana asked, tilting his head out of curiosity. As strong as the winds were from those gusts, he didn’t think they would be enough to take down such a large monstrosity. But they both had a feeling that it wasn’t what she meant.

Indeed, the Servant shook her head. “Strike Air comes from dispersing the winds that conceal my blade in whatever direction I choose,” she explained. “You are aware of my true identity, are you not, Masters? Then you know of my noble phantasm. I’ve not used it yet as it consumes an incredible amount of prana, but it should take him down in one strike.”

Ren and Morgana’s eyes widened. Right – Artoria Pendragon. Better known as King Arthur, the pinnacle of knighthood and chivalry. They remembered the lecture from Da Vinci and Roman about how a Servant’s fame made them stronger. It was a rather familiar concept to them – the stronger a cognition was in peoples’ minds, the more powerful it would be. Yaldabaoth, a god born from the cognition of the masses in Tokyo, almost wiped out their existence. Only the intervention of Lavenza saved them.

And when it came to knights, no one was more famed than her and her sword, Excalibur.

Ren reached over to his communicator and tapped it. The holographic screen winked into existence, revealing a still-frazzled Roman pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee at his table while staring at yet another monitor. Ren decided to wait until the doctor finished pouring himself a steaming cup and took a long sip first. Coffee was definitely necessary at a time like this and he would rather not surprise the doctor and have it spilling on his desk or lap.

“Roman? You’re getting all this, right?” The Master asked rhetorically. “Can you get us anything about Gilles’…. whatever that thing is?” Morgana sat a bit more upright to get a better view of the screen, with Mash sitting beside Ren at his other side.

The doctor checked his readings, blinking blearily. “It seems the monster has considerable regenerative properties on top of its strength,” he reported, his fingers moving over the keys as he charted out the data. ”I’m not reading any other organisms or toxic materials issuing from it. Looking at these readings, it would seem Gilles de Rais is around the… head? Chest? Close to the top anyway.” Ren glanced over at the monster. The doctor’s confusion at the creature’s anatomy was rather understandable – it was just a big…. Thing.

“The Grail is located closer to the base,” he pointed out, going through the readings. “The creature is using it as a power source to fuel its regeneration. For now, it doesn’t seem to be doing anything else with it so we should be able… to…” Roman’s words trailed off as he leaned forward, his eyes widening. “Wait, what’s going on here?” he demanded, staring at the screen. “Prana’s concentrating on the Grail – far more than normal!”

Suddenly, something bulged from the side of the monstrosity. Immediately, everyone was on guard. Gilles’s words echoed through the air once more. “What?!” he demanded. “Tainting my dear Jeanne’s mind wasn’t enough for you?! You would taint her very soul and body as well?!?” That caught Ren and Morgana by surprise. That… shouldn’t be what happened after they stole a Treasure. What was going on?

With a disgusting tearing of flesh, a bulging mass of flesh burst out of the creature and landed on the ground before it rapidly began swelling up and growing upwards, darkening to a dead ashy color. Countless red eyes opened and lined the black pillar of flesh, its pupils cross-shaped. Soon, it was the same size and height as Gilles’s monstrosity.

“Connection established,” the creature said. It spoke in the doppelganger’s voice that rapidly deepened into an inhuman, demonic pitch. “Anchor and existence acknowledged. Parameters within bounds. Processing data. Parsing. Threat levels: Negligible.”

“Hear our voice, humanity. We are Orobas. One of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods under King Solomon. Your existence has been declared unnecessary, and so we shall cleanse you. This shall be our mercy, for we shall be swift and exacting.”

“Your meaningless existence is at an end. Rejoice.”

Everyone’s eyes widened at the two titanic figures that loomed in Orleans. Roman in particular was left staring at the screen with horror. If color was able to be transmitted through the communicators, they would’ve seen it utterly vacate his face. “Th-that’s…. that’s impossible…” he breathed. “Oro… bas…? No, it… it can’t be, it-it must be some sort of imposter…”

“Doctor, now’s not the time to freak out,” Morgana snapped, glaring up at the screen. “What can you tell us about this new… thing? Orobas?” Then he stopped and blinked before turning to Ren. “Hey, didn’t you have a persona by that name?” he asked curiously.

Ren dug through his memory, then nodded slowly. Indeed, Orobas was one of the personas he had. It wasn’t one he could summon right now – probably because nobody in medieval France had a cognition of it. He scrounged around in his memory for information about it. “I think it was one of the seventy-two demons of the Goetia,” he murmured slowly. 

He looked back up at the black pillar, lined with red eyes. “This one is certainly uglier though – mine was just a bipedal horse,” Ren remarked with a smirk. Morgana chuckled while the other Servants gave the both of them odd looks.

“You dare?!” the mad Caster screeched, once more drawing everyone’s attention as his comparatively tiny form sprouted back up from the creature’s head. “You dare, you dare, you dare, you dare, you dare, you dare!?!” As he screamed, he clawed at his face to the point of leaving bloody trails down his gaunt cheeks, making him even look more horrifying than before. “How dare you taint my dearest Jeanne like this?! What manner of affliction came about from… you.”

The Chaldeans felt a chill down their backs as Gilles’s glare rested on them once more. Even from such a far distance, it felt like his hatred had redoubled once more. “You are the cause of this!” he spat out. “You wound taint and defile her mind, her soul, and now her body?! Was the execution not enough?!? Oh God, must you continue to torment her so?! Is there no limit to your lust for entertainment, to your cruelty?! How I repudiate you! Fine! If you wish to pen this tragedy for me, I shall play my part to the end!”

Howling into the skies, more portals began opening all over, spitting out more and more monstrosities. A considerable horde of tentacled abominations started pouring out of the city towards the group. “Guess that concludes our break,” Archer commented sardonically as he summoned his bow and an arrow once more. Quickly firing, it exploded among the horde, incinerating and obliterating a large chunk of them… and barely stemmed the flow as simply more poured through the aftermath.

Orobas in the meantime turned its eyes on Gilles, who in turn had faced the pillar once more. “And you, you foul demon!” he screamed. “You would defile my dear Jeanne! Your existence is a heresy and blasphemy! I curse you! Your existence is an affront to God! I will purge you and destroy you, you foul beast!”

“Humanity still speaks in nothing but hypocrisies and spittle,” the pillar noted. While its deep, inhuman voice was monotone overall, one could easily hear the hint of disdain that crept into its tone. “Analyzing. Servant name: Gilles de Rais. Class designation: Caster. You claim to serve God yet summon blasphemies He would reject. You call us a foul beast yet the being you have called is an aberration. We repudiate you. Your presence is unnecessary. Correcting error.”

Large tentacles sprung up around Orobas and wrapped around it, squeezing around as tightly as they could. A glow emitted from the pillar underneath the tentacles before they were shredded by powerful beams of red prana, emitted by the eyes. As more smaller tentacle monstrosities sprang up and charged at the pillar from below, the pillar emitted superhot smoke that roiled over the creatures, immediately boiling their blood to nothing before incinerating them as they stood. More beams fired from the eyes, cutting lines across Gilles de Rais’s creature, which quickly regenerated and retaliated in turn.

Ren watched as the two beings battled each other over the ruined Orleans. A stray thought popped into his mind that Ryuji, Futaba, and Makoto (and probably Haru too) would very much enjoy this fight if they saw it in a movie before snapping himself out of it. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a movie – this was all too real, and he needed to get the situation dealt with.

The horde that they were fighting through wasn’t as thick as it could be, given a good portion was being diverted to fighting Orobas, but they were still numerous. Archer was still thinning them out with arrows as Kiyohime blasted flames into the left flank as the other Servants charged forward to cut them down. And while dealing with each monstrosity individually wasn’t a problem whatsoever, they more than made up with quantity.

“Saber!” Ren called out. “Can you take out Gilles de Rais?” Under more normal circumstances, he would be happy to just let the two monsters fight it out then mop up whoever was left. However, as they were under constant assault like this, there was no way they could simply sit back. Not to mention, he didn’t want to chance Gilles deciding to send a premade army of these creatures out to the rest of France.

The Servant looked over at Gilles fighting the pillar and frowned. “I’m too far, Master,” she called back. “We’ll need to close the distance to make absolutely sure. We shouldn’t need to advance too far before I’m in range!”

The Master of Chaldea nodded. Reasonable enough – they were a rather large distance away in their retreat from Gilles and Orleans. He turned to the others. “Siegfried, Georgios, can you plow a way forward?” he asked. The two Servants didn’t answer but immediately moved to the vanguard, hacking away a path. Once more, the others took up the flanks and rear guard with Ren and Morgana at the center. It was just like fighting through the Palace castle all over again.

Still, there were two clear differences. Neither Ren nor Morgana were in their Phantom Thief regalia. Their personas used magecraft and prana as opposed to the power of the Metaverse and they were still exhausted from their expedition into the doppelganger’s Palace and the fight with her shadow. As such, the formation was tighter than before, with Mash sticking closer to the two and fighting more defensively as opposed to aggressively attacking the tentacled monstrosities.

The second was that they were fighting on open plains as opposed to the strict confines of the castle. It gave a lot more maneuverability for everyone involved, including the monstrosities. They swarmed all around the cordon, lashing from almost every side possible. Several Servants got hit when the tentacles struck at blind spots they weren’t able to cover properly, requiring Ren or Morgana to patch them up which in turn drained even more energy from them.

As a result, every step to advance was a grueling march, wading through countless abominations to get within range of the monster. It was a small blessing that Gilles and Orobas were distracted with fighting each other so they didn’t have to worry about direct attacks from either of them. They already had enough to handle with the horde bearing down on them. 

Eventually, Saber called out, “This should be close enough!” Ren glanced over and checked their distance. They were almost literally right outside Orleans. They were still some distance away from Gilles’s creature but it loomed over them regardless, almost blocking out the sun. Gilles didn’t seem any wiser of their new position as he kept frothing at the mouth, sending more countless tentacles to attack Orobas and getting blasted down in turn.

“Everyone, spread out,” he barked. “Give Saber time to use her noble phantasm!” Everyone immediately took their positions, with Ren, Morgana, Saber, and Mash at the center. The other Servants surrounded them in a circle, warding off the tentacle monsters as well as they could. Some of them tried to leap off their peers and pounce from above, forcing Kiyohime, Archer, Ren, and Morgana to pick them off as best they could as the others kept the cordon as well as they could. At best, it was a tenuous position. But one they wouldn’t have to maintain for long, hopefully. 

The winds dispelled from around Saber’s sword, revealing the beautiful blade. She raised it into the air and as she did, it began glowing with a warm, divine light. Motes of golden light rose into the air and entered the sword as prana and power began building, to the point even Ren and Morgana could feel it. The sheer power distracted the other Servants but thankfully, it had even more of an effect on the monstrosities as they began shying and retreating away from Saber as if they were outright terrified of it.

As the light coalesced, the blade turned into a column of power, radiating out its divine energy. The monstrosities further shrank away, like wild beasts from a blazing inferno, giving everyone a much-needed reprieve as they all could only gaze in awe at the sheer power of Saber’s blade. Saber herself was composed and calm, her expression showing no sign of burden of the power she had in her hands. Only a focused precision that precluded all other emotions. 

Ren and Morgana stared up at the golden light. They had confidence in their personas and they had seen noble phantasms before. They even saw the corrupted version of this same power back in Fuyuki, utilized by the darker version of Saber. However, what they felt here only left them with a sense of solemn awe at the pureness and its power. Instinctively, they backed up, as did the other Servants. Not because they were afraid but more because they didn’t want to be caught in the blast radius. 

Staring at the light, they both remembered. The Phantom Thieves: Ryuji, Ann, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Sumire, and even Akechi. All of them fighting side by side, celebrating both their joys and sorrows. Even as they stared down Yaldabaoth or Maruki, they didn’t flinch. They were all together, fighting as one. That gave them courage then. And seeing this, the light of miracles… it reminded them of that courage. Of what they were fighting for in the first place.

Then Saber spoke.

“Ex-!”

She took a step forward with that single syllable, causing a golden shockwave to radiate out. The ruined pavement cracked underneath. Finally, the two monstrosities had taken notice, with tentacles rising up around them and Orobas’s eyes turning towards them, but by then it was far too late.

“-CALIBUR!!!!”

With a final cry, Saber swung down. The golden column of light descended like the judgment of heaven and raced forward in a golden wave of pure destruction, blasting through creatures and crumbling buildings before crashing against Gilles’s monstrosity. The mad Caster’s shrieks of rage and fear filled the air as he reviled against God once more, this time, the sound of the destruction was louder. The monster crumbled into ashes which were borne away from the power of Excalibur. At the end, the only sound Gilles made was a piercing shriek – whether of madness or pain or something else entirely was something only he would know.

Then the power passed. And it was gone – both the power and Gilles alike. The smaller monstrosities curled up inward on themselves, making faint, horrific shrieks of pain before dissolving into dust as well, like they never existed to begin with.

Everyone sighed in relief that Gilles was finally defeated… until a faint rumble got their attention. They immediately turned, weapons ready, to face the pillar before them. Its ruby eyes stared at the group impassively, each eye moving to a different person in turn or focusing on their surroundings. It was a very disorienting and disturbing thing to witness. 

“Analyzing presences,” Orobas intoned as its eyes continued to rove about. “Servant quantity: Seven. Servant names: Artoria Pendragon. Heroic Spirit EMIYA. Elizabeth Bathory. Kiyohime. Saint Georgios. Siegfried. Jeanne d’Arc. Class designations: Saber. Archer. Lancer. Berserker. Rider. Saber. Ruler. Threat level: Negligible.” A few of the eyes focused on Ren, Morgana, and Mash.

“Unknown variable. Name: Mash Kyrielight,” it continued. “Defensive combat style. Threat level: Negligible. Master quantity: Two.” Then its eyes rolled. “Error. Analysis inconclusive on Masters. Cautionary discretion advised. Calculating threat level. Conclusion: Negligible.” Once more, its eyes focused on Ren and Morgana. “Your presence is… familiar,” Orobas murmured. “Collective accessed. Requesting permission for further analysis. …Permission denied. Information irrelevant.”

“He sure likes to talk a lot,” Morgana noted drily. Ren chuckled despite his own nervousness. It was clear this demon pillar was trying to figure them out. Still, the sign of familiarity was intriguing. He once used the Orobas persona before during his part adventures. Did this particular Orobas know that? 

He was tempted to ask but decided not to. It seems it could access a ‘collective’ – probably the other seventy-two demons or whatever was like it if it went by that naming scheme. And considering it was gathering data on them… better safe than sorry.

Still, this… thing needed to be dealt with immediately. It still seemed somewhat distracted by analyzing them and figuring out what was going on. Perhaps if he could make a decisive strike… He glanced over at Saber, who noticed and glanced back. He tightened his fist – the one with the command seals. Saber’s eyes flickered over for a second before nodding almost imperceptibly. It was now or never. He whispered, “By my command seal –“

Before Ren could complete the command, the ruby eyes immediately began to glow. Mash rushed in front of him just in time to deflect a powerful beam of prana, almost bowling her over in the process. Everyone was forced to split up to dodge the onslaught of lasers and superheated smoke that billowed out from the base of Orobas. 

“Hostile intent detected,” it intoned. “Humanity hasn’t grown beyond their base tactics. Rejoice in your purging and know your end has come at last. Reinitiating contact with the collective. Standing by. Awaiting further command.”

Ren gritted his teeth and both he and Morgana were covered by Mash, who barely held on from the attacks as they retreated away from Orobas. He had lost track of the other Servants, though judging by how the laser blasts kept going everywhere, they most likely were doing what they could to avoid them as well. As much as he wanted to give the order to Saber and have her obliterate Orobas, it would require her standing still to unleash it. And under this withering barrage, that was all but a suicide wish.

But then again, everyone around him had been impressing on him the necessity of victory at all costs. If he gave the order, she would use her noble phantasm no matter what, even if it would kill her. Was this the true test of it? If push came to shove, if there was a method of victory in front of him that involved sacrificing others, would he be able to carry it out? He glanced down at his seals and his vision winked for a second, seeing his bloodstained glove covering his hand once more.

“Senpai, look out!”

At Mash’s scream, the two Masters looked behind them. A cloud of superheated smoke rapidly approached them. Ren’s eyes widened. There was no way they could escape from that. Once more, Mash moved between them and raised her shield, glowing with power as prana began building around her once more.

“Lord Chaldeas!”

At her roar, the circles and emblems of light formed in front of her shield, causing the smoke to crash and swirl all around them like a wave impacting against a solitary pillar of rock. Ren and Morgana stayed behind her away from the worst of it, though the suffocating heat and smoke left them both coughing and gagging. Ren, fighting for any breath he could as the smoke roiled past them, looked once more at the seals. 

What would the world cost?

----------

Jeanne ducked underneath a crumbled ruin of a house to avoid more of the prana blasts. They had all been separated and had no way of locating or contacting the others. A few explosions – most likely from either Archer or Kiyohime – lit up against the pillar, but all that did was give the eyes a new target to focus on, blasting the area where the attack came from. Approaching it was all but impossible as it kept billowing out superheated smoke. Already, the pavement at the base was glowing bright red.

In short, no one could approach it and trying to attack it from far had proven to be useless. Coordination was more or less impossible without all of them retreating, but they didn’t have the luxury of time. This being was far more intelligent than Gilles de Rais and would probably cause some other harm if they left it alone – that phrase about contacting the collective didn’t bode well. What minimal pressure they were offering was doing enough to keep it distracted. A small blessing that it was looking down on them.

A plan formulated in her head. There needed to be two factors: A way to approach or block off attacks from Orobas, and an attack that would destroy him. Saber’s noble phantasm would obliterate it, or perhaps a combination of Georgios and Siegfried’s noble phantasms. Or perhaps everyone at once. Of course, that required everyone being here and being able to coordinate – something she couldn’t exactly do at the moment. And if she tried to rally everyone with her flag, Orobas would most likely shoot her down. She could approach it, but she couldn’t do anything.

Unless…

She gripped her flag. It was now or never. If this was what must be done, then she would face it head on. The Lord would see her path and trials through. And that of everyone else. Especially Ren and Morgana. She broke out of cover and charged at Orobas. Once more, superheated smoke roiled out as ruby eyes focused on her and fired prana blasts once more. She raised her flag as she charged.

“Luminosite Eternelle!” she cried.

With that, a warm golden light shone from the heavens as the grace of God wrapped around her. The smoke parted around her as they couldn’t breach His divine grace, and the blasts of prana bent around her as well. Holding her flag aloft, she pushed forward. Her flag was heavy, so unbearably heavy from His power as she marched forward. But this was yet another trial. She wouldn’t falter, not when the others were dependent on her to light the way forward. The smoke became even heavier and so did the prana blasts, but she wouldn’t yield. He was by her, and He would see her through.

Before long, the smoke parted from her vision, revealing repulsive dark gray flesh. The smoke billowed out, thicker than before. The golden glow of the Lord’s grace was starting to fade away already. She could feel the heat of the semi-molten pavement underneath her feet. At this range, she would be immediately incinerated. Her efforts would be in vain. But not this day. She would make sure of that.

With a single movement, she planted the flag into the softened pavement below, rooting it in place. Taking a deep breath, Jeanne reached to her side and drew her sword. She grasped the blade itself with both hands as she knelt, pointing the pommel toward the sky. The heat from the pavement rapidly warmed her grieves to nigh-unbearable levels, but she could tolerate it. As she held the blade, the edge cut through her gauntlets and into her skin. Rivulets of blood flowed down, steaming as drops hit the ground. “O Lord, I entrust this body to you,” she prayed as prana gathered around her. 

“La Pucelle!”

At her cry, flames erupted all around her, burning away the smoke as it rapidly spread. Though Jeanne was at the center of the conflagration, she felt no heat, no pain. These were the flames that had burned her away in life, and so they would burn her away ever after. In exchange though, the flames were unstoppable, seeking to destroy whatever the saint deemed necessary. This would be her final act here, and hopefully would grant salvation to everyone.

As the flames reached ever higher, they raced up the pillar of flesh that stood before her. It roared in rage – its first show of actual emotion – as it redirected as many of its eyes as possible to annihilate the saint. But it was too late. The flames blocked each and every blast and burned away the smoke, as if they wouldn’t suffer the touch of the sinner on the Saint. They were the flames that would purify and leave nothing in their wake.

But for Jeanne, she remained kneeling untouched on the ground as the fires of her noble phantasm burned all around her. They parted, revealing the sky. Jeanne turned her gaze skyward and raised her blade, the golden light of Heaven shining down and welcoming her. The Lord was with her. He always was. As it shone brighter, her last thought was a prayer.

Please, my Lord, grant Chaldea your succor and aid in their trials to come.

----------

Ren wasn’t sure what exactly happened. One moment, he was choking for breath alongside Morgana as Mash did her utmost to block the smoke, the next they were all bathed in a sea of flames. All three of them recoiled in shock before realizing that they felt no heat or pain from the flames whatsoever. They only burned away the smoke as the flames raced out, covering the whole area.

Then a roar caught their attention and they turned toward Orobas – and their eyes widened as the pillar was set aflame like a bonfire. “Error! Error!” it raged. “Unexpected variables detected! Such incalculations must not be permitted! Revising error! Requesting revision to the collective! Revisions denied! Variables deemed insignificant! Revisions unnecessary! Requesting revision! Revision denied! Requesting revision! Request denied!”

Orobas’s eyes rolled about in panic. “Know this, humanity!” it boomed out. “You stand before a precipice that has no bottom, a fate you have no power to defy! It is beyond useless! Useless! Useless! You struggle and fight in vain! Know that the King of Mages shall not tolerate your trespass! You will submit! And you shall perish! It…. Is…. Inevitable…!” Finally, the roaring flames consumed the pillar utterly and before long, it dissolved away into ashes. 

As it did, a gleaming item revealed itself, dropping into a crater where the pillar had been. After that, there was nothing. The silence that radiated all around them was deafening. Ren gulped and hit the communicator. Roman’s pale, shocked face once more popped up on the holographic screen. “Roman, what just happened?” Ren asked, barely able to get the words out through his dry throat.

Roman tapped a few keys. “It, um, seemed like Jeanne used her noble phantasm,” he replied, looking at the data. “Her noble phantasm, La Pucelle, conjures the flames that had killed her in life. In exchange though, it… it sacrifices Jeanne’s life.” 

At that news, Ren paled as Morgana, standing nearby, blanched. Jeanne sacrificed herself to take down Orobas? The sight of a steel door closing in his face once more flashed before him. With her, that made three people who had died for this: Marie, Mozart, and Jeanne. A pit developed in his stomach and his throat tightened. He was the one who insisted on pulling off this heist. Because of that, everything that had happened here…

“Ren,” Roman spoke up quietly. He had seen the Master’s expression and needed to shake him out of it as soon as possible. “The singularity’s almost resolved. Retrieve the Grail. And… for what it’s worth, you did great. As well as anyone could hope for.”

The Master of Chaldea scowled before forcing himself to smile. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, his tone strained. “Not bad for a first time, especially given the situation. We’ll let you know once we’ve recovered the Grail and you can get us out of here.” Before Roman could say anything more, Ren turned off the communicator. 

Morgana and Mash looked at him in concern as he did. “Ren?” Morgana asked gently, trying to read his closest friend’s expression.

Still forcing a reassuring smile, he nodded to both of them. “Come on, guys,” he said. “Let’s finish this and head back to Chaldea.” Before either of them could say anything, he walked towards the crater, leaving the other two to look at each other before hesitatingly following him.

Before long, they came to the crater. Spanning the diameter of the pillar from earlier, it was edged with debris from all the ruined houses that were destroyed and shoved aside from its growth. Ringed around it was the ground blackened with ash and soot from the smoke. The crater itself was shallow, as if a giant hand had come and scooped out the dirt. The middle lay the Grail.

The Servants had already gathered around it, keeping a watch. There was no sign of anyone else approaching but it was better safe than sorry. “Hey guys!” Ren called out, raising a hand to catch their attention, still with an easy smile plastered on his face. “Hope you guys weren’t waiting for too long!” He was about to make a joke about traffic being horrible when his peripheral vision landed on Kiyohime. No, better not. She might take that joke as a lie, and frankly he had more than enough complications and pain to deal with. 

Walking to the center, he picked up the Grail. It shone resplendently in his hand, showing no trace of taint or malevolence despite being used by Gilles de Rais or transforming into Orobas. If it wasn’t for everything they had just gone through, he would’ve even considered it anticlimactic. But this Grail was something earned after this long campaign. His grip tightened around the artifact. 

This was just one out of many to come. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

A glow of light caught his eye. The Servants they had encountered from Orleans were glowing, shedding particles of light. “It would appear we’ve fulfilled what we’ve been summoned for,” Siegfried noted, looking at his hand. “The battle is over here. I thank you all for your support, and once more I apologize for the trouble.” He smiled at the group. “Chaldea, you are all noble souls,” he declared. “Should you summon me, I will once more pledge my blade to your cause.”

“And mine as well,” Georgios agreed. “After witnessing your deeds, Ren Amamiya, I can safely say you are no heretic. I shall lend my sword to your cause as well.” He glanced over at Ren. “And if you are blaming yourself for Jeanne, don’t,” he said, giving a stern glance at Ren. “She had made her decision and chosen to give her life so that we may succeed this day and be ready for the next. It was her choice to make. It may not lighten your heart, but take solace in that fact. It was not your mistake that caused her death.”

Ren blinked in surprise, his mask slipping for a brief second to reveal pure shock and raw grief. He took a deep shuddering breath before it fell back into place. “Noted, Georgios,” he replied, his smile even more strained than before. “Thanks for everything, you two. I’ll see you when I see you.” With that, the two Servants faded away into golden dust.

“Ugh, really? Just at the beginning of my world tour?” Elizabeth snapped, stomping her foot. “I didn’t even get a chance to throw a concert here! How am I supposed to get my adoring fans now!” She glared at Ren. “Puppy, you promised me you’d make me an idol! I’m not letting you off that easy, I guarantee that! I’ll see you soon!” With one final glare (and was that a faint blush?), the draconic Lancer faded away, leaving Ren, Morgana, and Mash very nonplussed.

“Hmph, that Lancer can do what she likes,” Kiyohime scoffed, her fan once more concealing her mouth. “It is clear Anchin-sama is not here, despite what you have said, Master of Chaldea.” She shot an ill-tempered glare at Ren, not noticing – or perhaps ignoring – the fact that Saber and Archer had their blades at the ready, with Mash ready to intercept at a moment’s notice. 

“I shall search other lands for him,” she stated. “However, do not count on my assistance again. I have no need for the company of liars around me. I shall find Anchin-sama on my own. Farewell, and may the winds bear you to the fortune you deserve.” Then she turned, and without a backward glance walked away, eventually scattering into nothing like all the others.

Now it was just the Chaldeans left: Ren, Morgana, Mash, Saber, and Archer. Ren took a deep breath, then tapped the communicator. “Grail secured, doctor,” he reported in a tired voice. “Beam us up.”

“A Star Trek reference, huh?” Roman replied, trying to match Ren’s failed attempt at humor with a strained smile of his own. “Good work, you guys. Activating rayshift. We’ll see you all shortly.” 

The communication ended. Then they were surrounded by a flash of light, and Ren knew no more.

----------

Collective reached. Transferring data. On standby. Awaiting conclusion.

The data was different than they had expected. The Servants were within calculations. The Caster and his monstrosity were outside variables but were well within parameters. So was the partial Servant. Even the failure of the construct was accounted for as well as the fall of the singularity. 

However, the two Masters were variables that were completely unexpected. Their powers were negligible overall, even as something they had no data on. However, there was something here that was… amiss. Their algorithms should be flawless. Their plans would succeed no matter what. And yet…

What did mortals call this sensation? Unease? For the King’s plans, every variable must be accounted for.

Another sensation stirred within them. A small remnant, plaintively wishing for something beyond hopes. Beyond dreams. A plan formulated among their algorithms, a way to collect data on these unknown variables. So they turned to the remnant. What do you want? they asked. The remnant was silent for a moment and an eternity. Then it replied.

Another chance.

And by their will, the remnant’s wish was granted.

----------

The soft piano music once more reached Ren’s ears as his eyes opened again. He felt the hard bunk against his back. Slowly, he stood up. It was a strange sensation – he had only been to the Velvet Room a few days before, yet it felt like a lifetime ago now. Perhaps it was because it was the one bit of familiarity compared to all the fantastical things that happened in Orleans? Who could really say? 

Shaking off his ruminations, he stepped out of his cell. Once more, Igor was at his desk with Lavenza standing faithfully by his side, smiling. Igor was first to break the silence, raising his hands and clapping. “Well done, my dear guest, well done!” he crowed. “You have surmounted a challenge that reaches past humanity with surpassing cleverness and valor! Truly, you are a most remarkable guest!”

Ren forced a smile on his face. He knew praise from anyone in the Velvet Room was genuine, but despite that the words sounded completely hollow. “Thanks, Igor,” he replied, once again forcing a smile on his face. “If the other singularities were like that, then it’ll be tricky but I think we’ll pull through just fine. Thanks for all the help you’ve given me so far.”

However, his mask didn’t do much to fool either of them. Igor’s eyes fell as Lavenza’s smile was replaced with a worried expression. Stepping forward, the little girl gently held Ren’s hand. “You did all you could, my Trickster,” she reassured him, her bright yellow eyes meeting Ren’s shocked grey ones. “The sacrifices of those Servants were not something you could have prevented. There are many lives you have saved in that singularity, and many more could have been lost were it not for your cleverness and decisive nature. Take heart in that.”

Igor stared hard at Ren and sighed. “It would seem you need some further reassurance that you have saved others,” he said. “Allow me to show you.” His perpetual grin widened a bit as he raised a hand and curled his finger off to the side. A cell door opened, and a person stepped out. A young woman with silver hair and brighter yellow eyes than she had before. Her clothes were the same, though the yellow shades of her outfit were now the deep blue shade of the Velvet Room.

Ren’s eyes widened as the girl folded her arms. “This is the life you have saved, and will now be assisting you in the matters of singularities and magecraft,” Igor explained as his grin widened. “She shall be your new attendant alongside Lavenza. Would you like to introduce yourself, my dear?”

The girl gave an arid stare at Ren before sighing. “Well, if it wasn’t for everything I’ve experienced and seen so far, I would’ve dismissed this all as a dream,” she grumbled. “But it’s all a bit too real. Still, I owe you my life, and I will not so easily forget my debts.” She drew herself up, her eyes meeting Ren’s. “I shall introduce myself again. I am Olga Marie Animusphere. Director – or rather, former director of Chaldea. Now I’m an attendant of this… Velvet Room. I look forward to working with you.”

The Master of Chaldea was speechless, blinking rapidly as he tried to process what was happening. The last time he saw her, she was about to be cast into a giant ball of fire in Fuyuki and he out of sheer desperation tried to save her. And now, here she was, about as healthy and whole as she could be. There was the odd caveat that she was a Velvet Room attendant now but other than that…

“Well?” she snapped as a small, embarrassed blush crept into her cheeks from being stared at. “Are you going to answer me or are you going to keep gaping like a fish?!”

Ren blinked in surprise again before finally chuckling, regaining his composure. “As sharp as ever, huh, director?” he asked, shooting a teasing grin at her as the girl blushed further. “Glad to see you’re doing well. You look pretty good, all things considered.”

Olga cleared her throat, trying to shove the blush down from her cheeks. “Well, I have you to thank for that,” she responded brusquely. “You have my gratitude for saving me from… from the traitor, Lev Lainur.” It was clear that she had to force out the last few words. Nobody commented on it, however. She still needed time. 

“Henceforth, I shall put my all into assisting you,” she stated. “I have watched you maneuver through the singularity and I must say, though your magecraft has improved, it is still sloppy. A magus like you won’t be enough to get through all of them, especially if it gets any tougher.” She paused, then blushed again. “Though g-given what y-you’ve been through w-with that s-singularity and that P-Palace, I’ll g-give you s-some praise,” she stammered. “Be thankful.”

Suddenly, Ren was hit with a sense of deja-vu. In front of him stood a little girl, wearing a faded blue guard uniform with an eyepatch on her eye and hair buns curled up on the sides. Then he blinked, and it was Olga again. He had to chuckle in amusement. How familiar. “Thanks, director,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll be counting on you.”

The attendant blinked and blushed even more, coughing into a fist. “J-just call me Olga, A-Amamiya,” she replied. “As I s-stated, I’m the f-former d-director now, so th-that title doesn’t m-mean anything.”

He nodded. “Olga it is then,” he responded easily, causing the girl to blush even further.

Lavenza cleared her throat nearby. “Unfortunately, Olga has much to learn as a Velvet Room attendant,” she spoke up, her tone a bit more clipped. “It shall be a while before she shall be able to assist you with your requirements within the Velvet Room. For now, my Trickster, I shall continue assisting you with whatever you require here.” 

Her annoyed gaze softened as she opened the Compendium, revealing the transparent pages. “The singularity will take time to resolve,” she explained, smiling. “But until then, you shall have access to your personas it allows you. Your strength is returning to you, my Trickster.”

Ren nodded, feeling relieved. Honestly, with the singularity resolved, he had been wondering what would happen to the personas he utilized, like Metatron, Satan, or Pixie. To still have them was a giant weight off his mind. As much as he liked and used Arsene, just him would limit his options far too much. Having a collection of personas, even as limited as this, was a gigantic boon. “Good to know,” he replied gratefully.

“Now, I believe it is time, my dear guest,” Igor spoke up. “New trials will await you not just in the singularities, but in Chaldea as well. Once again, I must reiterate, do remember to build your bonds with not just Servants, but those at Chaldea as well. They shall be your strength in the days to come.”

He nodded, but before he could turn back to his cell, Olga spoke up. “One moment, Amamiya,” she said, catching the Phantom Thief’s attention. “When you speak with Roman and Da Vinci, let them know I’m safe. And if they doubt you, tell them these words: ‘Stars, Cosmos, Gods, Animus, Antrum, Unverse, Anima, Animusphere.’ They will believe you then. Do not forget these words in that order!”

Ren blinked with surprise but nodded regardless. It was a rather odd sequence of words but he made sure to commit them to memory. “I’ll be sure to tell them,” he reassured the former director with a smile. He glanced at the other residents of the Velvet Room. “See you guys soon.” With that, he walked into the cell as the walls faded away into darkness.

Chaldea awaited him.

Chapter Text

With a whirlwind of light, Mash found herself staring at the inside of the Coffin back in Chaldea. The door soon opened, allowing fresh air into the tiny chamber. She stepped out of the pod, the feel of solid floor beneath her temporarily foreign to her. She had changed back into her Chaldean uniform – coat, black shirt, red tie, glasses. She looked around, seeing the computers orbiting CHALDEAS, the jagged blue walls above, and the holographic globe.

Roman immediately left his workstation and approached the coffins as the other four opened as well. Saber and Archer stepped out, none the worse for wear, but senpai and Mr. Morgana practically stumbled out, much to everyone’s concern. The doctor immediately rushed to them. “Ren? Morgana?” he asked, kneeling down, gently lifting Ren’s face to look at his eyes and pallor before doing the same to Morgana.

Senpai blearily looked up at Roman and forced another smile. “Don’t worry, doc, nothing wrong,” he mumbled out as he staggered up – with the doctor’s help. “Just… really, really drained right now. I don’t wanna delay the debriefing, but me and Morgana need to rest up. I don’t suppose we can push it til tomorrow, or…”

The doctor hesitated, then nodded. “Alright,” he acceded. “You and Morgana take some time off. When you’re ready for the debriefing, let me know. Good work you two.” Then he looked back and forth. “And where are the Grails?” he asked out of curiosity.

Mash blinked, then summoned her shield back and pulled out the Grail they had gotten from the doppelganger’s Palace. “Here’s one, doctor!” she called out, holding it up. Senpai’s eyes, in the meantime, widened. He checked his pockets and within his jacket – an unlikely case given how large it was. She looked over to Morgana, who was also frantically checking his own pouches as well.

The Grail was gone.

Roman’s face fell, then he turned to the other staff at their computers. “Did anyone catch anything amiss during the rayshift back?” he asked, looking about. “Any odd energy signatures or shifts in temporal space?” He turned back to Ren and Morgana, giving them a strained smile. “Something must have happened during the rayshift back,” he told them. “Now both of you, get some rest. You two look utterly exhausted. We’ll take it from here.”

The shielder was surprised that Roman was so quick to excuse them as opposed to asking any more questions. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that one of the staff was about to protest when they were silenced with a sharp glare from Da Vinci, still standing next to Roman’s workstation. Now that she looked over, she also saw Lancer and Rider there as well, watching the proceedings.

As Ren and Morgana shambled past the two to the door, Rider gave them a small nod of acknowledgement while Lancer grinned and smacked Ren in the back – nearly accidentally bowling him over – and yelled, “Bang up job, kid!” Senpai flashed Cu a tired grin and thanked him before disappearing with Morgana from the Command Center.

Once they left, the quartet of Servants converged on each other, conversing in low tones. Too low for her ears to hear. Whatever discussion they wanted must’ve been private. In the meantime, Mash walked up to Roman’s workstation where Da Vinci was going through the data of the rayshift with a scrutinizing eye. “Um, where should I put this…” she quietly asked, holding up the Grail.

The Caster blinked as she looked up, then beamed at Mash. “I can take that~” she chirped, holding out a hand. The shielder handed over the Grail, who then put it on the workstation as she went back to the data. “Now, while I’m dying of curiosity to know what adventures you’ve been on with the ragazzo and gatto, I do believe you need some rest as well. So off you go, Mash~!”

Mash blinked in surprise. “Oh, no, I’m not that tired,” she quickly denied, shaking her head. “Is there anything I can do to help? Although if…” She pondered her next words, then decided to speak her mind. “If you think that senpai or Mr. Morgana stole the Grail,” she continued, her voice lowering to a soft murmur. “I don’t think that’s the case. None of us – me, Archer, or Saber, saw them do anything with it. And I don’t think they would be the type to do so.”

Da Vinci stared at Mash, blinking, then burst out laughing. The girl could only blink in surprise. That wasn’t the reaction she expected at all. “Oh, Mash, my dear, you are so precious!” she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. Mash couldn’t do much except to wait until she settled down, completely caught off guard by her laughing – and drawing the gazes of some of the staff, as well as Roman.

Once she calmed down, she beamed at the shielder. “Please, I’m not laughing at you, Mash,” she reassured her. “I truly do thank you for your consideration in telling me this. However, neither me nor Roman suspected the two from the start. No, those two are not the type in the slightest.”

The shielder had been with Da Vinci long enough to catch that mischievous gleam in her eye. She tilted her head quizzically. “Do you know something?” she asked.

The self-proclaimed genius chuckled again. “All in due time, Mash, all in due time~” she replied cryptically. “Now, off you go. Get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow, and we’ll need to be fresh for it. Even geniuses need their beauty sleep – that’s one issue even I had to bend my knee on in life. We’ll find the cause of this error, never fear.”

Blinking, Mash looked back over at the staff, still hard at work at their computers. Roman looked up and caught her staring. Despite how tired he looked, he flashed her a happy smile and a thumbs up before looking over at the staff’s computer screen again, discussing the various readings. Deciding there was nothing else for it, she bowed to Da Vinci and left the Command Center as well.

Walking down the halls of Chaldea felt odd to her. She had been in Orleans for the last couple days or so, getting used to the rustic environments, the ruined cities and buildings, and the lush, grassy plains and meadows. The sights, the smells, the sensations of wood, grass, pavement… And of course, the ever-present sound of distant wyverns roaring in the distance.

And now, walking by the pale blue walls of Chaldea, breathing the odorless recycled air, her heeled feet clacking against the marbled floor of the facility… Even though they just left, Orleans felt like a distant dream to her, to the point where she caught herself wondering if she had even gone at all. A robot hummed as it wheeled by her, breaking the monotony of sound and sight. She watched it as it rolled past her.

Definitely a curious feeling.

Reaching her room, she quietly entered. Her own room was bare, save for a bookshelf filled with books and a bedside table with a volume of Sherlock Holmes laying on it. A small Chaldea-issued laptop sat on a table with a stack of DVDs beside it – Roman’s choices that he leant to her to watch when she wished to do so. She really had no need for personal effects. The books were requests she made of Roman and Da Vinci, and they simply gave her the books to read from the comfort of her own room as opposed to constantly going to the library.

Mash quietly hung up her lab coat before taking her wardrobe – another set of her lab uniform – and hanging it on a rack near the shower. Stripping off her own clothes, she stepped in and turned on the hot water, allowing the warmth to rush over her. Then she blinked in surprise.

She hadn’t bathed the entire time she was in Orleans. Up until this point, she hadn’t realized just how… comfortable bathing like this could be. Of course, she had showered countless times like this before, but this was a newer sensation. Running her hands through her hair, she allowed the water to help run some of the grime and grease off before reaching for the shampoo.

Mash had to wonder as she washed, did senpai and Mr. Morgana feel the same after coming back from Orleans? Was this kind of warmth and comfort something they had gotten used to a long while ago, or did they feel the same thing she did right now? Well, it was perhaps something she could ask later. Right now, the two of them needed their rest. Even she, with her demi-Servant capabilities, was feeling rather exhausted from the sheer number of battles she had been through today.

Finally finishing up, she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a nearby towel to dry herself off before donning on her clothes once more. Her laundry she dumped into a chute in the wall that led to the laundromat down below. She glanced over at the laptop with the DVDs. No, she needed to rest. It would be better to read first and wait until her hair dried off a bit before getting some sleep.

However, as she reached for the book on the bedside table, alarm klaxons started going off, startling her. Without hesitation, she slapped the scanner beside her door and took off down the hall, immediately transforming into her demi-Servant grab, her shield in her hand.

Rushing into the Command Center, she found the four Servants already there (had they even left?) with their weapons out, facing the far side of the room. Roman and the other staff had already evacuated near the door, with Da Vinci guarding them. She brushed past the other staff, moving beside Da Vinci (and behind the Servants) with her shield raised. “What’s going on, Da Vinci?” she asked, bewildered.

The Caster’s smile had dropped once more as she faced the intruders. “It seems we had some rogue Servants following you through the rayshift,” she replied. Her tone was still light but now edged with tension. “We don’t know if they’re hostile or not, so we set the alarm off just in case. We don’t have any security robots on hand – Lev took special time to destroy them, apparently – but the Servants here have thankfully been rather prompt.”

Mash blinked in surprise before looking over her shield at the intruders. There were two figures standing there, both of them Servants. One of them was the draconic Lancer, Elizabeth – who had her hands held up in a gesture of surrender. Her words didn’t exactly match her actions, however.

“Hey, hey, put those weapons down,” she snapped, glaring at the others. “I’m not here to fight! Puppy has a promise to fulfill for me and I’m gonna make sure he does it! I don’t care about fighting you guys or anything!” She glanced at her companion as she edged a bit further away from her. “And I’m certainly NOT with her!” she yelled. Mash looked at who Elizabeth was talking about – and her eyes widened.

Before anyone else could say anything, Ren and Morgana stumbled through the collection of staff to the front. Though they were bleary eyed, they still had their weapons on hand and their eyes set on whatever was the problem ahead. Ren’s eyes had turned that shade of red she had seen before whenever he got serious, and despite Morgana’s diminutive stature, he was no less ready or hostile than Ren was.

As the two approached, they took in the new arrivals – and just like Mash, their eyes widened in surprise as well. Beside Elizabeth was a young woman in dark clothes and armor, with dark metal greaves and gauntlets. She wore a headpiece as well. Her skin was a deathly white pallor and she had sickly yellow eyes, with short hair so pale it was almost white. It was clear who it was and why Elizabeth was more than happy to throw her under the proverbial bus.

It was the doppelganger.

Speaking of the doppelganger, she stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at them. Other than that, she hadn’t summoned her flag or drew her sword. If anything, she looked more annoyed at everything. She glanced up at the two approaching Masters and nodded. “Well, about time someone showed up that can make sense of everything,” she grumbled, lowering her arms. Just that simple motion had the Servants raising their weapons a bit higher, much to the doppelganger’s irritation.

“What are you doing here?” were the first words out of Ren’s mouth. Although shocked, his pistol and Morgana’s slingshot were trained on her regardless, and his eyes were still that shade of red. In the meantime, Elizabeth tried edging away more from the doppelganger to sneak out of the crossfire – and froze when Rider turned her slightly toward her direction. 

The doppelganger looked at them and sighed. “Look, I screwed up,” she replied bluntly. “Killed a lot of people – some deserving, many not so much. If you guys wanna kill me on the spot, well, can’t exactly say I don’t deserve that. Hell, it wasn’t even for something that happened to me personally – I’m just some damn construct fucking Gilles de Rais made of the real Jeanne d’Arc. So, made a wish to at least make up for it and, well, here I am.”

Ren and Morgana blinked in surprise. Saber glanced in their direction. “This outcome came from your efforts, Masters,” she noted, still holding her blade raised. “What do you make of this?”

Morgana frowned, not lowering his slingshot either. “Honestly, after a change of heart, we usually didn’t have to deal with our targets again,” he replied. “A lot of times they basically tossed themselves into jail. The only times we dealt with targets afterward were… exceptional circumstances.” That being said, this whole situation was an exceptional circumstance. Changing the heart of a Servant was something they had never done before. After all, many Servants were defined by their distortions, be it directly or indirectly.

Archer frowned. He heard something interesting in what the doppelganger had told them. “Romani,” he called out. “Can you check and see if you can find traces of the Orleans Grail on this doppelganger?” Roman blinked at Archer’s instructions but immediately went over to his workstation to do so. Everyone lowered their weapons a bit, though they were still ready to attack if necessary.

Roman tapped a few keys on his computer, running some scans within the control room. He frowned as he analyzed the data… then widened. “Th-the prana from the Orleans Grail…” he gasped. “There’s t-traces on the d-doppelganger there. And these readings…” His eyes shot up to stare at the new Servant. “Sh-she’s an incarnated Servant!”

That caused almost everyone’s eyes to widen and stare at the doppelganger – except Ren and Morgana. “Wait, incarnated?” Ren asked. “What does that mean?”

“Masters, as you’ve been told, we are not permanent existences on this world,” Rider murmured, her calm, low tone betrayed only by the harder grip on her chained spikes. “When our supply of prana is cut off, we lose our anchor and return to the Throne of Heroes. We are, at best, ephemeral beings here designed to bring our Masters victory and fade away.”

Rider turned a bit more towards the doppelganger, her eyes still covered by the metallic blindfold. “However, through a large amount of prana and mystery, such as a Grail, Servants can be given a new mortal body and remain on this world, even when the Grail War is over. They do not require a supply of prana any longer, as they are able to generate and utilize their own.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Morgana summarized slowly. “That this doppelganger is not a Servant anymore, but an actual person?!” The Servants didn’t say anything. Neither did Roman, Da Vinci, nor any of the other staff. That was all the answer they needed. This was an even bigger problem – Servants may be ephemeral existences, but they still had trouble reconciling with killing them given how much they were like actual people, including having shadows and Palaces.

And if the doppelganger was now an actual person…

“Masters, are you sure you wish to do this?” Saber asked sternly. “We do not know if we can trust her or not – only earlier, she was ready to kill all of us and resume her campaign against all of France.”

Ren and Morgana debated. They haven’t really dealt with anyone after a change of heart. The closest was Nakamura for a bit after they dealt with his shadow in Mementos, and Futaba whose Palace was… unique among all the others.

Then they remembered the doppelganger shouting at Gilles to stand down, and remembered her fate being devoured by one of those monstrosities. The change of heart had an effect, and no one deserved such a cruel fate. They glanced at each other and made their choice. Ren sheathed his gun and Morgana put away his slingshot. Both Saber and Archer breathed out in frustration but slowly put away their weapons as well. Lancer and Rider looked about in surprise, standing up though sheathing their weapons either.

“Well, if you’re genuine about helping us out, we can’t exactly turn you down,” Ren replied, forcing a smile on his face. Mash was nearby, still with her shield up in case the doppelganger tried anything. He walked forward and held out his hand for her to shake. “Welcome to Chaldea,” he greeted her genuinely.

The doppelganger looked down at his hand, then back at the owner’s eyes, then gently pushed away his hand. “Don’t try that shit with me,” she grumbled. Rather than being annoyed, she seemed infinitely weary and even a bit sorrowful. “You don’t consider me a friend, and frankly none of you lot should. I’m here to make up for my mistakes and carve my own path from it. No more, no less. I’ll fight by your side and work with all of you, but you don’t need to treat me as such.”

That declaration caught everyone off guard. The doppelganger didn’t seem to be lying or giving a false front. Frankly, this was new to all of them. “Well, perhaps… we should give her a chance?” Mash suggested hesitatingly, slowly lowering her shield. “If senpai’s methods have truly worked, then perhaps it would be a disservice to deny her help. We truly could use all the help we could.”

Everyone took a second to deliberate. Saber looked back at the doppelganger. “For now, we shall keep you under watch,” she sternly replied. “You may have been granted a second life, but the moment you intentionally endanger our mission, we shall not hesitate to take it in a second. Are we understood? Now, state your name and class.”

Both Ren and Morgana looked in shock at Saber but quickly turned back, masking their expressions the best they could. She was right – if the doppelganger ended up being a threat, she needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible. They wanted to argue, but none of them could come up with a counter – a Servant was far more dangerous than a regular human, and by the time they could find a non-lethal way to deal with her, she could seriously damage Chaldea, possibly beyond repair.

And with it any chance of seeing their friends and family ever again.

The doppelganger sighed. “Fair enough,” she accepted without any hint of argument. “I’m known as Jeanne d’Arc Alter – though call me by my Servant class, Lancer. I’d rather not be associated with that saint if it can be helped. I’m an incarnated Servant, but I can still fight, so if you need me on the front lines, then I’ll fight.”

“Oi, not sure if that’s gonna work, girlie,” Cu replied, whirling his Gae Bolg up into a standing position. The others lowered their weapons as well. “I’m a Lancer – and the dragon girl over there’s also a Lancer.” He nodded to Elizabeth who managed to sneak far away to press herself up against a wall, well away from any crossfire should things turn ugly. “And I doubt we’re gonna be the only Lancers. You sure you don’t got a name you wanna go by?”

Ren thought for a second, then suggested, “What about Joan? For now, anyway – if you don’t like it and you have another name you like, then you can switch it out and let us know.”

The doppelganger swiveled around and for a second, almost seemed ready to gut Ren then and there. The other Servants raised their weapons again while Mash moved between the two with her shield already up. After a tense second, the doppelganger sighed. “You had to call me that anyway, huh?” she grumbled, looking more than irritated. “Fine. Joan it is. So long as it’s a temporary name, then I don’t give a shit.”

Everyone relaxed again, lowering their weapons. It seemed the matter was settled, one way or another. “Hey, Rider,” Morgana asked, looking up at the tall, purple-haired woman. The Servant turned towards Morgana in askance. “I don’t suppose you could set Joan up with a room? We’d do it ourselves but, well, we’re still kinda bushed from Orleans.”

The Rider hesitated for a second before nodding. “Of course, Masters,” she acknowledged. She turned to Joan. “Please, follow me this way.” Without waiting, she began walking to the door. After a moment’s hesitation, the new Lancer followed as well, the staff parting for her as the two Servants passed by. They stepped out, and everyone listened as their footsteps grew fainter and fainter.

After a few more seconds, Roman took a deep breath. “Alright everyone, excitement’s over,” he called out. “Let’s get back to work. Though if you need to take ten after what just happened, that’s fine – I’m not counting. Just don’t take too long.” The staff, broken out of the reverie, murmured among themselves. Some of them went back to their stations, some of them left the Command Center to whatever places offered recreation or relaxation.

Meanwhile, Ren smiled at Mash. “Thanks for protecting us, Mash,” he replied earnestly.

The shielder blinked in surprise. Even though senpai had complimented her multiple times already, each and every time still caught her off guard. “It’s no problem, senpai,” she replied humbly as she blushed. “I’m just thankful you and Mr. Morgana weren’t harmed. It would’ve been terrible if any bloodshed occurred after our return to Chaldea.”

Senpai nodded, his smile fading a bit as he looked at the door where the two Servants walked out. “Yeah, same here,” he muttered. Mash looked curiously up at him. His handsome features were pensive and grim, as if contemplating yet another moral or world-turning conundrum. How many of those decisions did he have to wrestle, she wondered. Now and before? Just what was his and Mr. Morgana’s life before Chaldea?

“We better get some sleep, Ren,” Morgana commented, yawning as he stretched. With a quick flash, he turned back into his cat form as opposed to his more humanoid form. “It’s been a really, really long day. I think we deserve some R&R, at least for a bit.”

Ren nodded with a weary smile. He looked back up at Mash. “You get some rest too,” he suggested. “You’ve been through as much as we have. Same for you, Saber. Archer.”

The two Servants nodded. “We do not tire like humans do, but we shall take your suggestion regardless,” Saber replied. “Please, see to yourselves first, Masters. Rest well and be prepared for a new day tomorrow.”

“That’s totally not ominous,” Morgana grumbled before heading out of the Command Center, followed by Ren.

Mash watched them leave, then walked to Roman as the other Servants also left, their presence no longer needed. “Should I keep a watch on Joan?” she asked curiously.

Roman sagged in his chair, massaging his temples as he shook his head. “No, Rider should be covering her,” he replied. “But don’t work too hard, Mash – you gotta take better care of yourself. You need to get some rest too. Honestly, all of us do.”

“Are you really in a position to talk, Roman?” Da Vinci commented, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the doctor. Roman in turn could only chuckle sheepishly. The Caster shook her head and looked at Mash. “Get some rest, Mash,” she told her kindly. “In the meantime, I’ll see to getting our interim director here some actual rest and make sure his veins aren’t completely filled with caffeine instead of blood.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s physically impossible – ow ow ow ow ow.” Roman was interrupted as a smiling Da Vinci pulled at his ear out of his chair. “C-careful, y-you’re going to yank i-it off!”

“Yes, and your smart tongue as well if you don’t behave,” she replied, her smile growing in proportion to the air of annoyance around her. “Now come along, let’s get you to bed.” Overriding Roman’s protestations, she proceeded to drag him out of the Command Center, still holding him by the ear. His pained yelps echoed through the hallways before finally disappearing.

Everyone, including Mash, sighed. Some things never change.

—-------

Olga leafed through the Compendium within the Velvet Room, frowning as she went through the different pages. She had taken up training under Igor and Lavenza so that she could be of service as an attendant. Part of that was going over just precisely what these powers were and what Ren could and couldn’t do. It wasn’t exactly easy going - she hadn’t expected a course as rigorous as something from the Clock Tower. But then, given he had abilities that most mages would turn green with envy, it should’ve been expected.

Frankly, what she saw from the Compendium already boggled her mind to no end. Records of divine spirits, demons, even fae or other mythological creatures. And apparently, the current pages were the only ones he had access to at the moment, as the power was linked to the ‘Sea of Souls’, or the collective unconsciousness of humanity. Frankly, as soon as she heard that, she almost collapsed on the spot. Such a source of power was almost unfathomable to her – it was borderline True Magic.

“Personas are born from the strength of the heart,” Lavenza explained, standing beside her. “Every person has a shadow to them – a subconscious self that the conscious self refuses to acknowledge. Once that shadow self is recognized, it becomes that person’s Persona, allowing them to wield great power. They will often take the form of some figure that represents the bearer’s will, be it Rebellion or Truth or some other ideal.”

With a wave of her hand, transparent images of various beings came into view: A woman in a vibrant red dress stepping on a figure with a heart-shaped head, a pirate with a skull for a head surfing on a miniature pirate ship, an imperious looking man with a pompadour striking a kabuki pose. “Though much like anything else, they require discipline and experience to hone,” she continued explaining. “Wild Cards – like Ren Amamiya – can switch between different personas and even bring shadows to his side as his own. I believe you experienced that partially, did you not?”

Olga nodded. It was… an odd experience, to put it mildly. It felt like her existence was diminished to a speck of dust, barely able to think let alone breathe or function. She had lost all sense of time in that form, only eventually waking up within the Velvet Room – and shrieking bloody murder until Lavenza finally got tired and used some sort of mystery to silence her. And whatever mystery it was, it certainly wasn’t magecraft. At least, none she could identify off the cuff.

But now she had been given a second lease on life. After everything that happened, after all her failures, Ren had decided to save her. The least she could do was to repay him in some form or manner. However, for some reason, the lessons weren’t sinking in as they should. Her head felt more and more muddled as she tried, and that frustrated her all the more. Sighing in frustration, she flipped back to the first page to start from scratch.

Lavenza tilted over to get a better view of Olga’s expression, before reaching over to place a small hand on Olga’s own, catching her attention. “Do not force your studies like this,” she admonished gently. “It will not do to have you make a careless mistake out of impatience and desperation. Not from one as brilliant as you.” She smiled gently. “Our Trickster will require our aid before long, and so we shall be prepared for him, both in mind and knowledge. Never fear.”

The former director blinked in surprise, then huffed, looking away with a brush of her hair. “Yes, of course,” she replied. “I’ve merely been… preoccupied with thoughts since I got here. I’ll be ready for Amamiya when he shows up next.”

Occupied was a very mild way of putting it. There was the cognitive world, which was apparently another layer to the world like the Reverse Side of the World, there were shadows and Personas, and of course, the Velvet Room itself – a place ‘between dreams and reality, mind and matter’, according to Igor. The two had made it extremely clear they were making a huge exception by housing Olga here instead of letting her fade away, and for good reason – any magi worth their salt in the Clock Tower would be drooling over literally everything she was finding out here and would possibly devastate humankind on a cognitive level.

Of course, even if she wasn’t confined to the Velvet Room, she had no plans to utilize this knowledge in the Moonlit World. It wasn’t worth it, not with what was and could be at stake.

Olga blinked in surprise as Lavenza took the Compendium back gently from her hands, closing it. “Perhaps a change of pace is in order,” she suggested, looking up at her. “If you wish, you may watch the Trickster’s trials and tribulations to have a better understanding of what he has gone through? It may hone your interactions with him in the future.”

She considered it for a second. Ren Amamiya and Morgana have honestly been complete, utter enigmas to her. Magecraft that wasn’t magecraft, skills and experience far beyond any ordinary citizen or even magus, a honed sense of justice and morality that just wasn’t found in most people. She didn’t have access to Chaldea’s records, but even just a casual perusal through the records in the past didn’t show anything out of the ordinary or indicting. Any answer was better than just muddling through like this.

Coming to only one conclusion, she nodded to Lavenza, who smiled in turn. “Very well,” she acknowledged. “Allow me to show you, then, a small portion of what the Trickster has undergone. I will show you more in due time, but for now, it is best to start from the beginning.” With that, she waved her hand once more, and a haze filled the air. And with that, Olga watched, and learned.

—-------

Nights in this little corner of the world usually weren’t anything out of the ordinary, especially during the spring. Owls hooted in the distance as a car driving by echoed through the empty streets. The neighborhood was lit up with people in their residences, living out their lives. It was getting warm, a prelude to the scorching hot summers that came with the change of seasons. It was a peaceful, still night.

Yawning, the boy walked along the empty street. He had been over at a friend’s house for a study session and it had gone a bit longer than usual that night. His friend’s parents had offered him to stay over for dinner, but he couldn’t – he promised his folks he would be home in time for dinner. So off he went. His backpack was laden with notebooks and textbooks. Perhaps he should review math a bit more. There were definitely a few equations he definitely had trouble remembering –

Then he heard a scuffle further down the street. It sounded like a woman struggling? He heard a man’s growl as well. Picking up his pace, he began running down the street towards the source of the commotion. It got louder and louder until he could see what was going on – a bald man in a suit, pulling at a woman by the wrist. “You damn bitch, get in the car!” he snarled, pulling fiercely.

“Stop, let me go!” she cried, desperately trying to free herself from him.

The boy grit his teeth. What the hell was this guy doing?! No way in hell was he going to stand around and let this happen. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he began marching up to the two. He wasn’t sure what he would do but at the very least, he couldn’t just stand by. His movement caught the attention of the two – particularly the man. He stumbled away from the woman, glaring at him. Even in the low light, the boy could see his flushed face. The man was drunk.

“What’re you looking at?” he slurred. “Get out of my face! This ain’t a show, kid. Get lost!”

He had never done this before, risking his neck in such a manner. Standing up to bullies for others was one thing, but not an adult. Still, he held his ground, clenching his hands into fists. Still, he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure what to do – perhaps call the cops? Shove the man away? Grab the woman and run? There were a lot of choices but he froze from the indecision.

“Didn’t you hear me, kid?” the man growled. “I said get lost!” He raised a fist and staggered forward. The boy’s eyes widened, but the man was slow and uncoordinated. It was a simple matter of stepping aside and letting the man punch right past him. Losing his balance, the man fell headfirst onto the paved road with a pained groan, his orange sunglasses sliding past on the ground.

The man growled as he stood back up, holding his face. His hand pulled away – revealing a small wound on his forehead that flowed with blood. “Damn brat, I’ll sue!” he snarled.

The woman he had been molesting stepped forward, clearly shaken but glaring at the man in turn. “Then I’ll report about the money! Is that fine with you?!” she cried. The boy blinked in surprise. Money? What money?

The man scoffed. “All I have to say is that you did it on your own and it’s over,” he replied flatly. Apparently, that had the desired effect as the woman’s eyes widened and she took a step back. Police sirens became audible and were steadily growing louder and louder. The drunkard cursed. “Damn, someone called the cops,” he grumbled. “Well, doesn’t matter – they’re my bitches anyway.” He glared at the woman again. “Hey, make this statement: ‘This kid suddenly attacked me.’ Got it?”

That demand took both Ren and the woman off guard. “If you try to say anything else, you’re done for,” he growled, a smirk forming on his face. “You know that, right?” The woman took another step back, her eyes watering with tears, unable to form an answer.

The boy rounded on the drunkard. “That’s bullshit,” he snapped. “You fell on your own!”

The man glared at Ren in turn. “Shut up,” he retorted. “You’re done for. You’re gonna learn what happens when you cross me.”

The boy could only stare in horror, but hope leaped in his heart when two police officers came up from behind the man. There they were! They were saved! They just needed to get the stories straight, the man would be arrested, and both him and the woman were home free!

Then that feeling sank into horror as the policemen recognized the man, calling him ‘sir’. The man turned to the woman, asking her to tell the policeman what happened. The boy turned to the woman with wide eyes. She couldn’t possibly be doing this! He was just trying to help her; she wouldn’t go and give a false accusation and turn him in-

“That young man suddenly attacked him,” she told them, facing away from the police officers. “He shoved this gentleman to the ground. And this man… got injured.”

The sheer shock and horror overwhelmed all other memories he had of the evening. The only thing he remembered after that was the feel of cuffs around his wrists behind his back and behind shoved into a police car. He remembered nothing else.

 —-------

Mash shot awake, gasping for breath. She reached up to rub her eyes. Tears had been rolling down her face. That dream… was it a dream? It felt so real. She held her chest, trying to slow down her pounding heart. She could feel his shock and horror like it was her own. The boy she saw - he looked so similar yet felt so different. Was this before everything that happened to him? When he was just an ordinary young man? Was it truly him?

“Senpai…?”

Chapter Text

Ren was exhausted.

It couldn’t be helped. Neither he nor Morgana had slept particularly well that night despite being bone tired. Once morning came about (or rather, a simulated morning that came with a gradual brightening of the lights), the two of them were more or less already awake. Nightmares had plagued them throughout the night, followed by fitful sleep. Even Morgana, who normally was an early to bed, early to rise kind of cat, was grumbling and tried to roll back over to sleep some more.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. There had been no Velvet Room trip that night – probably to give him an opportunity to rest his mind as well as body. Not that it did much good. Still, he was thankful to Igor, Lavenza, and Olga for their consideration. He really wasn’t well equipped to deal with the day overall. He was about to roll over when his door pinged. Who could it be at this time?

Getting out of bed, he shuffled over to the door, yawning as he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. Opening the door, he was greeted by the familiar sight of lilac hair and a cute, bespeckled face. Mash beamed up at him before immediately blinking in shock. “Good morning, senpai,” she greeted cordially, peering concernedly at his face. “Are you alright? You look terrible.”

Ren chuckled as he fought back another yawn. “Yeah, sorry Mash,” he apologized, pasting on a grin as he leaned against the doorframe. “Neither me nor Morgana slept that well last night. We’ll be up in a second though – just… give us some time to actually wake up properly and get some caffeine in our system. What’s on the agenda today?”

The shielder blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “There’s nothing on the agenda, senpai,” she reassured him. “So if you’re that tired, you should go back and get some rest. It’s not healthy to be suffering from a lack of sleep. Many mistakes have been attributed to it, studies have shown.”

The Master blinked, then chuckled again. “You’re pretty studious, Mash,” he commented, grinning in appreciation. “You definitely remind me of someone else I know.” His smile faded as his memories flashed again. In front of him stood a girl slightly shorter than him, with short brown hair and a stern face, though just as prone to flush in embarrassment. He blinked again and saw Mash once more, staring at him in surprise.

“What about that debriefing though?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Won’t Roman get mad that I’m putting that off?”

Mash shook her head. “I’ll speak to the doctor,” she replied. “I believe he said when you’re ready for the debriefing, not that it needs to be done today. I’ll inform him you’re in no condition to do so today. Please, get some rest. You too, Mr. Morgana.” She directed the last words to Morgana, who had stumbled up in cat form and was leaning against Ren’s leg, blinking sleepily.

“Sounds – sounds good,” Morgana replied, yawning. “Come on, Ren. We definitely need to catch up on some sleep. Thanks for covering for us, Mash.” With that, he shambled back in to hop on the bed once more.

Ren watched Morgana walk back in, then turned back to Mash. “Sorry about that,” he apologized again. “I’ll see you in a bit, Mash.” Mash smiled in response as Ren shuffled back inside, the door closing behind him as he turned off the lights.

Reaching the bed, he collapsed on it and pulled the covers over himself. Though it wasn’t the most comfortable of beds or covers, for his sleep deprived state, it almost felt like he was resting on clouds. He felt the familiar warmth and weight of Morgana curling up on top of him. He smiled, and within moments, the two were fast asleep once more.

Mash stared at the door after it closed before sighing sadly to herself. Admittedly, she wanted to have some of senpai’s curry and coffee, but after seeing the two in that state, she didn’t have it in her to ask. At least Archer was manning the kitchen once more. It would be a very nice change from the field rations they had to sustain themselves. Just before she turned to leave, she heard a familiar sound.

“Fou, fou!”

She blinked and smiled as the little creature bounded around a corner before leaping up, easily landing on her shoulders. She giggled as Fou licked her cheek. “Th-that tickles, Fou!” she laughed, reaching up to pet him as he nuzzled back against her hand. “Did you wait for me to finish talking to senpai and Mr. Morgana?” she asked.

“Fou, kyu, fou!” Fou barked before nuzzling her again.

The shielder took that as a yes. “Thank you for being so considerate, Fou,” she replied with a grin. She hadn’t forgotten that Mr. Morgana didn’t like Fou for some reason or other. At least he was considerate enough to give them a reprieve. She quietly picked up Fou from her shoulder and held her against her chest like a little pillow. He was warm and soft in her arms. She missed him.

Deciding that loitering in front of senpai’s room wasn’t worth it too much longer, she started walking down the hallways of Chaldea. Another thing she was struck with now was the silence. In Orleans, they always had a lively gathering with them, especially coupled with the likes of Marie, Mozart, Elizabeth, and Kiyohime, as well as discussions between Saber, Jeanne, Siegfriend, Georgios, and occasionally Archer.

But now, it was just so… quiet. Mash never particularly felt alone before, but the silence was almost deafening to her. She held Fou a bit closer to her, eliciting a few comforting barks and mews from the little creature. Smiling down at him, she patted his head a couple times as she made her way to the Command Center. As usual, Roman was at his workstation working. Da Vinci was absent this time – she was likely either in her workshop or attending some other part of Chaldea.

“Good morning, doctor,” Mash greeted softly, smiling as she walked up – and her expression flattened as she saw Magi*Mari once more on the screen.

The doctor whirled about in surprise, quickly changing the screen of his workstation. “M-Mash! Good morning!” he replied, nervously grinning and re-opening his various status windows. “I’m surprised to see you up and about so early. After those last battles of Orleans, I thought you’d still be resting or sleeping.”

Mash fixed Roman with a flat stare for a moment before sighing. “It seems, as a demi-Servant, my stamina recovers faster than a regular person,” she noted. “That being said, I believe senpai and Mr. Morgana will require another day or so of recovery. They won’t be able to do a debriefing today at the very least.”

Roman blinked, then ran a hand through his mop of orange hair. “Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he sighed. “Those two looked beyond beat when I saw them the other day. I’m guessing fatigue from the consecutive battles as well as stress and who knows what other factors at this point.” Indeed, he had been closely monitoring their vitals after they disappeared within the Orleans singularity the other day. Frankly, he would like nothing more than to give a full medical checkup, but for now…

A growl quickly caught both of their attention – and Mash blushed as she realized it was coming from her own stomach. The doctor could only blink in surprise before chuckling as the girl quickly clutched her belly, blushing. He checked the time on his workstation. “I guess it’s time for breakfast,” he noted with amusement as he stood up, stretching to work out all the stiffness of his shoulders. “Wanna come with, Mash? I’d normally offer coffee but after the instant… stuff we’ve been drinking, I think I’m willing to be a bit selfish and wait for Ren on that front.”

The shielder nodded. Normally she would judge the doctor for being so selfish, but the coffee that Ren made was a different category entirely. For his curry and coffee, she was more than understanding of Roman’s desires – she matched them after all. But neither of them would wake senpai up for that right now. They’ll make do. Perhaps there was some juice or milk they could have.

As they entered the cafeteria, their noses were immediately assaulted by the rich scent of cooking food and oils. Archer was already within the kitchen, making breakfast that many of the staff were eating with gusto. Despite the somewhat large volume of people, Archer didn’t seem to mind, seemingly within his element as he moved from pan to pot to bowl, cooking, plating, and attending to each dish as necessary.

He glanced up as the two approached him and smirked. “Just in time,” he noted. “I was just finding my stride.” He nodded to two empty seats at the counter nearby, where the two sat down. “Is there anything particular you guys want?” he asked as he stirred a pot nearby.

The two looked at each other. “Um, whatever you recommend, Archer!” Mash replied earnestly, smiling at the red-mantled hero. Roman simply smiled at Mash’s forthright attitude. He had been about to ask for something lighter for himself, but frankly he was happy to see Mash so happy like this.

“I’ll have the same, Archer,” Roman called out. “And if you could get us two… juices?” He glanced over at Mash for confirmation, who nodded in turn. “Two juices, please.”

“No coffee?” Archer asked with a smirk. “Still, that’s fair. I tried one or two cups, but I can’t seem to make them the way Master does. I’ll have to ask him for more tips on that front. In the meantime, I’ll grab you two orange juices. They shouldn’t clash too much with what I’m making.” Mash and Roman blinked. What was he making so that he would be worried about clashing tastes?

Their question was soon answered. A couple minutes later, Archer came forth with plates of rice and curry, followed by glasses of orange juice. “I tried replicating Ren’s recipe as best I could,” Archer explained as he crossed his arms. “As well as adding a few of my own touches to it. Let me know what you think.”

The two blinked at the curry, then dug in. Roman’s eyes immediately lit up as he spooned more of it into his mouth. “This is marvelous!” he beamed as he inhaled the food. “The spice mix is a bit different. Can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, but I love it! Wow, I didn’t even notice – AGH!” Roman’s yelp drew both of their attention as they looked over in alarm. The doctor was holding a hand to his mouth, tearing up a bit. “Bit my tongue,” he mumbled.

Mash smiled sympathetically and gave him a pat on the shoulder while Archer shook his head in exasperation. Turning around, she bit into her curry too. It was good. Delicious even. However, she ate at a more sedate pace compared to the doctor. She really did like it, though not with the same enthusiasm as the doctor. She wasn’t sure why – then she sensed something. She looked up and saw Archer smirking at her.

“Not the same as when Ren makes it, hm?” he asked. His smirk only grew when Mash began spluttering and Roman turned to her with wide eyes. “I understand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t replicate that part exactly. I’ll have to have Ren share the recipe again with me – or perhaps you prefer him cooking instead?” Mash could only splutter more as her face grew an even deeper shade of red. “I’ll be sure to let him know-“

Suddenly, he stiffened and stared past them at the door of the cafeteria as much of the conversation quieted down to whispers. The two blinked, turned, and their eyes widened. Joan was standing at the entrance of the cafeteria. She seemed mildly surprised by all the attention she was getting, then irritably sighed. Without saying a word, she simply stalked over to the counter and sat at the counter, well away from everyone else.

Archer made his way carefully over to her. “Is there something you need?” he asked, keeping a sardonic tone. “Didn’t think this kind of place would be to your liking, Joan.”

Joan glared up at him for a second, then looked down at the counter. “I’m hungry, dumbass,” she muttered. “I’m incarnated, remember? That means I actually need to eat. And this place is where I can get some food, so there. Now can all of you knock it off?” She picked up her voice at the last sentence as she looked about the cafeteria. Most of the staff immediately turned away from staring at her. Joan turned back, grumbling some more as she rested her head in a hand.

“So it would seem,” Archer noted, relaxing slightly. “Is there anything you want in particular?”

Joan considered. “You got any gruel, bread, and cheese?” she asked, looking up at the red-mantled hero.

Archer blinked in surprise but quickly regained his composure. “I’ll have to substitute gruel with oatmeal, but I can get you some bread and cheese,” he replied. “Will that suffice?”

The darkened Lancer sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that works,” she said. With a nod, Archer walked off to the storeroom to grab the ingredients. Everyone went back to murmuring to each other, glancing at Joan every once in a while.

Mash and Roman could only look at each other uncertainly before glancing back at the Lancer. Joan for her part just looked about the kitchen past the counter, pointedly ignoring everyone else around her. With her simple fare, it only took a few minutes for Archer to put a bowl of oatmeal, as well as bread and some slices of cheese on a separate plate.

“Thanks,” she muttered before she dug in. After a spoonful of oatmeal, she stopped for a second before looking up at Archer in askance. “I added some honey to your oatmeal,” he said casually, answering her unspoken question. “Thought you might want a bit more flavor with it, after all.” Joan narrowed her eyes at him before grunting and going back to her food.

After a few minutes, she finished her food. The bowl was scraped clean and she had eaten the bread and cheese without so much as another comment. “I take it you enjoyed that?” Archer asked rhetorically as he took away the bowl and plate.

Joan sighed. “Yeah, yeah I did,” she grumbled as she got up from her seat.

She was about to leave when Mash spoke up. “Um, Joan, is… is something the matter?” she asked innocently. Roman’s eyes widened in panic behind her. Though he didn’t dare say anything, he was more than ready to intercept or interfere if necessary – a detail that didn’t escape Joan’s notice.

Her irritated yellow eyes rested on Mash. “It’s none of your business,” she muttered before quietly stalking out, once more ignoring everyone else around her. Archer’s eyes never left her until the Lancer exited the cafeteria. As soon as she left, the room exploded into conversation, gossiping about Joan. The red-mantled hero returned to his work, a frown of thoughtfulness as opposed to concern on his face.

Roman breathed out a sigh of relief, holding a hand to his chest. “Well, that was kind of terrifying,” he bluntly admitted. “You’re certainly brave, Mash, being able to talk to her so casually. Maybe Ren is a good influence on you after all.” Then he frowned. “Still, I need to do something to get rid of these jitters. Hey, Archer, think you can get me some coffee after all?”

“I really doubt they’ll settle your jitters, doctor,” Archer snarked. “Also, I believe Da Vinci has given strict orders to limit your caffeine intake to one cup a day – and you’ve long since used that up today.”

Mash didn’t hear the doctor groaning in frustration as she stared at the cafeteria door where Joan had left. The Lancer’s expression when she answered Mash’s question… she had seen it before on one other person here in Chaldea. The person who tried to hide everything the most.

Ren.

----------

Joan stalked through the quiet hallways of Chaldea. That went about as expected, to be honest. The suspicious glares from everyone, the caution from the Archer Servant, the whispered conversations behind her back… frankly, she half expected the food to be poisoned or drugged in some manner as she ate. Honestly, if it wasn’t for her hunger, she wouldn’t have bothered to show herself until it was time for a mission.

It seems being incarnated had its disadvantages, after all.

That girl though. She had the temerity… no, the compassion to ask if she was okay. That was something she hadn’t expected. Joan thought she would be hated by everyone. It was what she deserved, after all. She was the Dragon Witch, and only yesterday she was doing her damned best trying to incinerate the entirety of France. She would be condemned by everyone, and they had every right to do so.

The actual Jeanne d’Arc would’ve asked her the same thing as well, without a hint of hostility or suspicion. And that thought twisted her gut.

But more than that, the food was good. It was oatmeal with some honey, bread, and cheese. It was a standard affair back where she came from. Many peasant families would have such a meal back in France, and no doubt she would’ve had some as well. It was simple, filling fare. No more and certainly no less.

And yet, the flavors, the texture of the oatmeal and bread, the softness of the cheese, the sweetness of the honey… she recalled none of it. She knew how they tasted because of the Grail, but no more. The only memories she had were of her - no, of Jeanne’s condemnation trial, and being burned at the stake. It was a simple test for herself to make certain of who she was, and that only confirmed it.

She wasn’t Jeanne d’Arc. She never was. Just some facsimile that the mad Gilles de Rais wished for and was granted through some dark miracle.

Sighing, she turned another corner down the hallways. During the night, she had wandered through Chaldea, acquainting herself with its various rooms as she passed by. She knew the structure well enough. Reaching up to a pad, a door opened in front of her, revealing the library. Rows upon rows of books greeted her.

Stepping in, she looked around and could only smirk bitterly to herself. Such a trove of books like this would be worth its weight in gold in Orleans.

Walking past bookshelves, she perused the sections until she found the ones she wanted – the history section, concerning European history. Problem was, there were no small number of books on the topic, spanning bookshelf to bookshelf easily. She’d be here for a while at least. “Hey, you got any recommendations?” she called out seemingly to no one as she pored over the various book titles.

There was a moment’s silence, then Rider appeared out of thin air, her expression impassive and eyes unreadable thanks to her blindfold. “I was not aware you were an avid reader,” she murmured, her tone quiet and neutral. “Did you not have such an opportunity back in Orleans?”

Joan scoffed, glaring at the purple-haired Servant. “Don’t give me that bullcrap,” she growled. “I wasn’t exactly interested in reading while I was there and I probably burned a lot of books while I was at it. Most of them were probably just religious texts anyway, and I’ve had enough of that shit for ten lifetimes, let alone one.”

“Is that so?” Rider asked, a hint of amusement in her voice that drew further annoyance from the Lancer. She stepped closer, turning towards the bookshelves. “Is there something particular you are looking for?”

The Lancer narrowed her eyes, then sighed. “I’m looking for information about the Hundred Years War,” she muttered, going back to the books. “None of that hoity-toity ‘France is great and threw off the English’ bullshit. The facts. What the hell actually happened - before, middle, and after.”

That caught Rider by surprise as she turned back to Joan. “Do you wish to discover who you were?” she asked, a note of surprise in her voice now. “Or the circumstances around your execution? Or perhaps if you were justified in your vengeance in the end?”

“Damnit, that’s not why!” Joan snarled, slamming a hand into the books and causing the shelves to rattle ominously. Rider reflexively tensed into a combat stance for a second before relaxing, noting she had no killer intent. “I’m not Jeanne d’Arc,” she growled. “Never was. Not sure how much you saw – or heard – but Gilles de Rais just basically wished me into existence from the Grail. Maybe there wasn’t some dark side to the actual Jeanne d’Arc? I don’t fucking know.”

She turned back to the books once more. “Point is, I’d rather give myself a starting point,” she muttered. “Just figure out what the hell happened in the end and go from there. I may not be the saint, but I can’t exactly ignore that I was created in her image and tainted with a hatred that wasn’t mine.” She paused, then let out a bitter chuckle. “Gotta say, can’t be a more blasphemous existence than that,” Joan noted as she ran a finger through the different titles.

Rider was silent for a moment as she considered Joan’s words. Then she stepped closer, bending down and sliding a thick volume from one of the lower shelves. “This one was written by a well-known historian,” she murmured, handing the book over to her. “It analyzes the political and economic states of England and France at the time, and the actual and probable causes of the Hundred Years’ War.”

Joan blinked with surprise as she was given the book. It was heavier than she expected, but the surprise came from Rider being genuinely helpful. She hadn’t expected that from her. Or anybody. Well, it was probably temporary. But regardless… “Thanks, I guess,” she muttered, turning away from the Rider. She needed to find a good place to sit and read. This would be a while.

Meanwhile, Rider watched Joan curiously as she left to find a seat. She had been watching the mission, seeing all the Servants that had gathered around her Masters, as well as those who opposed them. She had seen the Dragon Witch and her petulant rage, lashing out and destroying the countryside with unfathomable cruelty. She was, by all accounts, a monster in human skin.

And yet here she was, trying to discover herself and finding a book.

As Rider vanished, she had to wonder – would her Masters do the same for her if push came to shove? A change of heart, as they called it? Would she be like Joan? Or would something else happen? Seeing such a change wrought onto the self-proclaimed Dragon Witch was something she hadn’t expected whatsoever, and it aroused her curiosity.

What strange Masters she had.

—-------

Ren stretched as he made his way to the cafeteria. Morgana was perched on his shoulder, softly purring. They had managed to sleep for a few more hours after Mash met them earlier and both of them felt far more refreshed. Neither of them had any more nightmares or dreams plaguing them at this point, just dreamless slumbers. Frankly, that was the only thing they could ask for at this point.

That being said, the effects of their battles were still evident. Their muscles were sore from the sheer amount of physical activity they had been through both within and without the Palace, and the accumulated fatigue from the fighting and continuous use of their Persona magecraft hadn’t done wonders either. Their limbs felt like water and they were both exhausted still. It was probably better to take it easy for today.

As they entered, they found Archer washing his hands in the kitchen in the back. It was surprisingly quiet, with barely anyone around. Well, that wasn’t surprising. It was well past breakfast but before lunchtime. Everyone was probably busy working. That was fine with them – they could use the peace and quiet overall.

Archer glanced up as Ren entered the kitchen while Morgana hopped off his shoulder, sitting down on the counter and licking his paw. “A bit too late and too early if you wanted to get something to eat, Masters,” he commented with a chuckle. “I was about to start making something for the lunch rush. You’ll have to wait a bit before you can get something to eat.”

Ren grinned in turn. “Honestly, works for me,” he replied with an easy shrug. “I was honestly thinking of making some curry and coffee for myself. Haven’t had a decent one in a while so might as well. Could be good for others’ lunch too.”

“Yes, quite a few people did miss your coffee,” Archer agreed with a nod. He certainly wasn’t deaf to people complaining about the instant coffee after having a taste of Ren’s brews. Everyone tried their hand at making coffee themselves but only had marginal success, and their despondency at the lack of Ren’s coffee only grew. It had been an amusing sight, albeit frustrating for him personally as he couldn’t make a good cup of the stuff. Tea was far easier to make in comparison.

“Mash, I believe, missed your curry as well. She seemed quite put out that you weren’t available to make it,” he added. Well, that was a bit of a half-lie but it shouldn’t matter too much. It didn’t change the fact that Mash very much wanted Ren’s curry as opposed to his own. 

The Master blinked as Morgana chuckled on the counter. “Well, not too surprising,” the catlike being commented, smiling despite his more feline features. “Ren’s curry does have a certain… kick to it that most people just can’t replicate, especially when paired with his coffee. It seems to have an even greater effect among some people.”

That was an understatement – Ann, Makoto, Haru, Futaba, and Sumire all never could seem to get enough of it. They only restrained themselves after Yusuke noted on their diets – though not before Makoto chopped him on the head to get him to stop talking. Well, it wasn’t his fault Sojiro was such a damn good teacher. Though that grin Sojiro made after he told that story let on a lot more than he thought.

“Well, the curry had been a perfected recipe by a genius,” he had told him. “But who knows – maybe having you make it provides an extra bit of spice most people don’t expect.” Then he grumbled something about needing to cook for Futaba more. He wasn’t sure what that was all about.

He didn’t mean for things to turn out that way, honestly. Things just… happened around him. No doubt due to the influence of the Velvet Room.

Ren rolled his shoulders in the meantime. “Well, in that case, I better not disappoint anyone.,” he said with an easy grin. “I should get to work. If I start now, it should be lunchtime when it’s ready.”

“One more thing, Master,” Archer said as Ren began walking towards the storeroom. “Joan visited the cafeteria earlier.”

Both Ren and Morgana stiffened at the mention of the new Servant. “Oh?” Ren asked, forcing his characteristic lightness into his tone. “I’m guessing everything went well? Doesn’t seem like the cafeteria or kitchen are on fire – heck not even a scorch mark.”

Archer stared at Ren watching his reaction, then turned away. “She merely wished for a breakfast of porridge, bread, and cheese,” he reported. “I substituted the porridge with oatmeal. She was okay with that. After that, she simply left.” He thought about telling him about Mash’s question and Joan’s reaction, but he decided not to say anything. It was too premature, not until they observed more.

Ren and Morgana visibly relaxed at Archer’s words. “Heh, well, miracles do happen, I guess,” Ren joked. “Did you expect that, Morgana?”

Morgana shook his head. “Not even Ryuji could pull off calming down that quickly,” he quipped. “Guess we’re sticking with her for a while longer!”

The red-mantled hero watched as the two joked with one another about their compatriots. Under any circumstance, they seemed like two ordinary kids (including Morgana) just talking about their friends. Turning away, he could only sigh. They really weren’t suited for this, after all.

Maybe that was why they succeeded. 

----------

Mash was currently in her room. She had decided to get a head start on writing a report on the Orleans singularity – and found herself before long staring at a blank page. How was she supposed to write this out? There were so many factors that were fantastical, even by Chaldean standards. She stood up and paced her room several times, began typing and even got to several paragraphs before deleting them all in frustration.

In the meantime, Fou had made a nest of her normally immaculately made bed, curled up in a pocket of blankets and pillows and was happily dozing off, his little belly rising up and down with each breath. He spent his time either wandering Chaldea’s hallways and observing everyone else or hanging out with Mash. No one begrudged the little creature’s company though – even when it made a nuisance of itself, it was always beyond adorable.

The shielder sighed in frustration. As much as she wanted to get this written ahead of time, there was little that could be done until the debriefing with senpai and Morgana. There were simply too many factors, concepts, and events that were beyond her means to currently explain. Roman had already promised that she would be part of the debriefing as she was going to be Ren’s protection, but until then, there really wasn’t anything usable she could write.

Checking the time, she decided a break was in order. It was lunchtime anyway. Putting her computer into sleep mode, she gently picked up Fou from her bed. The little being stirred, stretched, and looked up at Mash. “Fou, fou?” it chirped in askance.

Mash smiled ruefully down at him. “Sorry for bothering you, Fou,” she murmured as she stepped out of her room. “I couldn’t write anything meaningful for my report. I thought maybe if I got some lunch, I’ll have a better idea of what to write. Or maybe find something else to do instead.” She pondered going to the library. The names ‘Arsène’ and ‘Zorro’ sounded extremely familiar to her. Some research would have to be done.

“I thought you might at least join me for lunch, Fou,” she added as well, smiling apologetically. “Sorry if I woke you from your nap.” Fou didn’t make a sound, but instead stretched and pressed itself further against Mash’s chest contentedly. She took that as a sign that Fou was okay with it overall.

Stepping into the cafeteria, she noticed that it was a lot more crowded than this morning. And with a quick sniff, she immediately knew the reason why: The rich scent of curry and coffee filled the air with a truly delicious aroma. Peering further in, her suspicions were confirmed: Senpai was moving about in the kitchen, filling plates of rice and curry while attending to the coffee pots that brewed their heavenly liquid. Archer was also helping out as well – a good thing given the sheer number of people there.

“Oi, was wondering when you’d show for lunch!” Cú Chulainn called out with a grin. He had been sitting with his back to the counter, leaning up against it and therefore had a good sight of the door. “Was about to grab you myself! Saved you a seat!” He patted the chair beside him for emphasis.

Mash blinked in surprise before quickly walking over and sitting down as Fou rested himself easily in her lap. “Thank you so much, Mr. Cú!” she replied, nodding gratefully to the blue Lancer.

Cú Chulainn waved it off. “Ah, nothing to it,” he replied easily. “And just call me Cú – no need for Mr. or anything of the sort. And as usual, the kid’s curry and coffee is a hit. Ain’t that right, girlie?” He directed the question to a person a couple seats down. Mash turned, looked, and blinked in surprise to see Elizabeth scarfing down her own plate of curry and coffee as well.

“Well, it’s expected of my puppy and manager to be able to feed up to an idol’s standards,” Elizabeth pointed out, barely bothering with decorum anymore. “After all, an idol needs to have a good diet and only eats the finest of foods! I can’t let this petite figure grow fat! No idol needs that!”

“Pretty sure a Servant can’t gain weight,” Cu Chulainn pointed out with a grin.

“Shut it, dog!”

Mash turned away from the bickering Servants to senpai once more. He was smiling contentedly as he stirred the pot of curry. Mr. Morgana was perched on a shelf above, making sure to keep out of the way of cooking. He glanced up at the table and his smile widened. “Hey, Mash!” he called out cordially. “I’ll get you a plate and a cup in just a second! Any particular blend you’d like?”

She stared at him, remembering the dream from last night. The terror he was feeling when he was dragged away by the cops, the sheer shock from being falsely accused, and his anger at the man who had him condemned despite trying to do the right thing. She remembered him being scared and unsure of the whole situation, like any normal person would be.

Was the senpai in front of her really the same person? The one who always knew what to do and could stand equally side by side with Servants despite being a Master?

So engrossed she was in his thoughts that she didn’t notice him stepping up, until he waved a hand in her face. “Hello? Earth to Mash?” he called out with a cheeky grin. “You must be really hungry to space out like that. I’m guessing you had a long day?” Mash blinked in surprise and opened her mouth to ask her questions, but seeing the easy smile on senpai, the words got caught in her throat.

“Or maybe she didn’t sleep well either,” Morgana quipped, looking down from his perch with a smirk. “And now she’s hit with a double whammy of scents from both your curry and coffee. Gotta say, Ren, your cooking really packs a punch for anyone stepping in.”

Ren chuckled. “Tell you what,” he said, turning back to Mash. “I’ll see if I can make a stronger brew for you today. I think I have just the thing that’ll do the trick.” With that, he stepped away from the counter and walked toward the coffee machines once more, leaving Mash with her unanswered questions as she slowly closed her mouth. That dream… was that the beginning of what senpai had gone through? What about Mr. Morgana? There was so much she wanted to know.

But… 

She watched him work in the kitchen, grinding up a new blend of coffee beans. It could wait. For a little longer. The smile on senpai’s face was something she didn’t want to disturb just yet. He needed his peace. And she would give him what little she could.  

Both him and Mr. Morgana deserved it.

Chapter Text

The day had passed uneventfully overall, lapsing into the next day. After Orleans, everyone seemed to establish a sort of rhythm, be it working, relaxing, or training in the simulator. Ren and Morgana had taken the day to rest, with the most strenuous activity being cooking dinner and lunch. It was certainly welcomed by everyone, staff and Servants alike. There were even rumors that people cried tears of joy at having Ren’s coffee again.

The sad thing is, speaking from personal experience, Roman didn’t know if that was an exaggeration or not.

In the meantime, instead of being in the Command Center, he was currently in the director’s office. Emergency protocols had granted him privileges and access as there was no one ranked higher than him – a heavy responsibility that only reminded him each and every time how much was lost thanks to Lev. The director’s workstation had access to date and records no others could access for security reasons, as well as file modification privileges.

And so, he had decided to take a bit of initiative and went over the various data and reports of the Orleans singularity, marking files and text to modify or outright erase. Once the crisis had passed, these would have to be reported to someone, and if anyone read the unedited details of what happened during the singularity, both Ren and Morgana would be marked with sealing designations in a heartbeat. He figured he might as well get a start on it now as he had a sinking feeling that it was going to be a common theme.

Suddenly, the workstation pinged with an incoming communication. Roman blinked in surprise and clicked on it, coming face to face with Ren. “Oh, good morning, Ren,” he greeted cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?” Just looking at Ren answered that question though. The young man looked somewhat haggard, with dark shadows under his eyes. How much sleep was he getting? How much of it was actually restful? That certainly concerned him.

Despite his exhausted appearance, he grinned as easily as always. “Could be better, could be worse,” he replied cheekily. “I’ve certainly slept on far worse beds than here, I’ll tell you that much.” His grin dwindled, however, as he said his next sentence. “Morgana and I are ready for the debriefing, Roman.”

That caught Roman by surprise. He honestly hadn’t expected to do the debriefing so soon. Although he had been impatient to know exactly what happened in Orleans, he knew that pushing Ren would only succeed in getting him to lash out. From what few records Meuniere managed to pull, given his troubles with the police and various other figures, as well as his reaction to being confronted after La Charite, he hypothesized that Ren had little patience for authority figures.

So, he had an idea. He hadn’t expected it to execute that soon though.

“Oh, well, that’s good to hear, Ren,” Roman replied. “If you could, meet me at –“ Suddenly, he glanced up at the director’s room, then back down at the screen. “Meet us at Da Vinci’s workshop. I’ll have Mash over as well,” he told Ren. “And… a small favor, Ren?”

Ren raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “What do you need?” he asked, a note of trepidation in his voice.

Roman hesitated, then gave a rueful smile. “Could you perhaps make us some coffee?” he asked, trying very hard not to sound like he was begging. “I think we could really all use some, and the regular stuff really just can’t compare.”

The Master blinked several times at Roman before bursting into chuckles. “Addicted already?” he asked, grinning. “You really should try to wean yourself off it, you know. Not like I’m one to talk.” He sighed in mock exasperation. “Fine, I’ll make a cup for you,” he jokingly relented. “Whatever the consequences you catch from Mash and Da Vinci will be on your head.”

Roman chuckled nervously at the thought. “I’ll keep that in mind, Ren,” he replied, scratching at his cheek. “I’ll see you in a little bit then.” With that, the communication cut off. Once it was finished, Roman sighed and relaxed back in his chair. While normally plush and relaxing, he had been sitting there so long that it was honestly starting to dig into his back and rear.

He looked around the director’s room. Normally it was immaculate, there was a pile of bunched up blankets on the couch where he had tried to catch up on sleep when he could. The table also had a good number of crumbs and stains from when he ate at the table as well as the number of times he spilled coffee. No way was he going to meet Ren here when the office was like this. He’d have to get one of the robots to clean up the area. And maybe bring a fresh blanket.

The doctor sighed as he prepared to contact Mash and Da Vinci. No wonder why Olga almost went crazy.

 —-------

A sneeze echoed in the Velvet Room.

—------ 

Ren walked down the halls carrying a tray carefully. Five cups of coffee were balanced on it, the liquid swirling about with each motion. Morgana had decided to walk on the ground alongside him as opposed to taking his usual perch on Ren’s shoulder so that he could maintain his balance. In any other circumstance he would do so, stating a Phantom Thief must have his balance at all times, but in this case, not at the cost of spilling the treasure in Ren’s hands.

Honestly, they had expected Roman to call him into the Director’s office, or perhaps an unused room. This was supposed to be an official debriefing, after all. Of course, even the word itself brought… unwanted memories. Of a dark, cold room, surrounded by cruel men in suits, the feel of a shot stomping on his head and leg as he was forced to sign a confession against his will. His head muddled by drugs and pain, unable to remember the plan that meant the difference between life and death.

His grip tightened on the tray, the cups rattling ominously from the tension. Morgana glanced up at him worriedly. “Hey, don’t worry,” he reassured him. “I’m right beside you every step of the way, Ren. I’m not gonna let them do anything – not on my life.”

Glancing down at his longtime friend, he took a deep, shaky breath as his limbs relaxed and the cups stopped rattling. Morgana had been there the whole time, calming him and making sure he didn’t lapse back into those memories. He had encouraged the debriefing, after all, so that they could get as many cards as they could out on the table and work better with Chaldea. They had to, if they wanted to succeed in the end.

“Right, right,” he murmured, calming down. He smiled at the catlike being. “Thanks Morgana,” he told him earnestly. “I really wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Morgana looked up and grinned. “I know,” he remarked. “You guys were pretty helpless without me, after all.” Ren matched his grin. Ah, there was that boastful Morgana that he knew and loved. He had been quiet as of late, no doubt from Orleans. Ren was much the same too. The first singularity had been far beyond anything they had experienced before, with the later singularities promising similar if greater troubles.

Hopefully, they would be prepared for it.

Before long, they reached the door to Da Vinci’s workshop. They had only stopped there once before, when Da Vinci had given them their respective weapons. She had been the only one to figure out their past as the Phantom Thieves but had agreed to keep their secret. And now, they were going to reveal as much as they could. This would basically be their judgement. How would they take it? Did they need to really reveal everything? How much would they need to tell or hide?

Would they even believe them?

Standing by the door, Morgana glanced up at Ren. “You ready?” he asked. His tone wasn’t one of impatience, but of worry. It was a huge deal, after all, and once they stepped in, they couldn’t easily go back or revise what they talked about. Hell, it could even be a trap for them. Igor had made it clear that mages weren’t to be trusted, and given how the Metaverse could be abused by normal people with the right knowledge, he shuddered to think what someone with magecraft could do.

But then, the world outside was nothing but flames. All his friends and family, everything he knew was gone. This wasn’t like the smaller adventures he had been on before. Either he took risks and gambled… or they would all lose everything. Faced with that prospect, there ultimately was little choice.

“Hit it, Morgana,” Ren replied with a smile. Morgana nodded. He transformed into his Metaverse form – the bipedal catlike being – and hopped up, slapping a paw on the scanner. It beeped before the door slid open, revealing the workshop once more. They stepped inside, Ren being especially careful to not bump his elbows against the doorframe or any of the inventions that lay on the myriad desks scattered about.

“Over here, senpai!”

He blinked as he heard Mash’s voice from around a corner. Stepping around, he saw a small clearing. A round wooden table was set up with five comfortable chairs surrounding it. It sat beside a simulated window, portraying a beautiful countryside, shining with a warm, afternoon sun. Roman, Da Vinci, and Mash were seated at the table already.

At their approach, the three smiled. “Ah, benvenuto, my ragazzo and gatto magnifico!” Da Vinci chirped. “It’s been so long since you stepped into my workshop. But come, don’t stand on ceremony. I have not had the opportunity to try one of your legendary brews that so many speak of. I wish to see if my genius reaches my taste buds as well!”

Ren chuckled at the Uomo Universale. “You really do want to challenge yourself on everything, don’t you, Da Vinci?” he asked rhetorically, passing out the coffees on the table as Morgana hopped up onto the chair. It was just high enough that he could peer over the edge of the table. The Caster certainly didn’t miss a thing, did she?

Da Vinci’s grin spread further. “Why of course!” she exclaimed. “Of what use is a genius if she cannot find new challenges to overcome? It matters little the field, and inspiration can come from the most unexpected of places! I am not a genius in many fields because I was content to sit on my hands after mastery of one or two fields, after all!”

Well, neither Ren nor Morgana could argue on that front. Da Vinci was known for many things, be it sciences, art, engineering, or mathematics. He (or rather, she) defined the term Renaissance man for a reason. Plus, Da Vinci’s boasting had very little bite to it – it was little arrogance and more boundless confidence and surety. Despite themselves, the two found themselves smiling at Da Vinci’s energy. She definitely was like Yusuke if he further expanded his repertoire.

Ren passed out the coffees to each person at the table before finally setting them for himself and Morgana. As he took a seat, the others eagerly took their cups and sipped the liquid. “Oh, this is a unique flavor,” Roman commented, staring at the coffee like he was beholding the secrets of the universe within. “I’ll admit, Ren, up until you came along, I didn’t realize coffee could be so… good.”

Da Vinci nodded, her smile beatific as she lowered her cup. “Ci!” she agreed enthusiastically. “Coffeehouses were unfortunately well after my time back in Italy, which perhaps is for the best – far too many of my colleagues would be addicted to the drink. The Renaissance would be known for its sleeplessness on top of its art and culture!”

Mash blinked curiously over at Da Vinci. “Would you have been one of them?” she asked. Da Vinci, merely giggled before taking another sip. Even the self-proclaimed genius couldn’t possibly deny that.

“Hey, then where do you get off telling me I can’t drink more coffee, then?” Roman demanded, an expression of dismay and betrayal clear on his face.

The Caster casually looked over to Roman. “Ah, but I’m a genius, Roman,” she replied gracefully. “Even I know my limits, prodigious as they are. You, however, go far beyond that. So please mind your words, Roman. Someone might actually take offense to them.” Despite retaining her smile, the temperature around her dropped sharply. The doctor gulped, took the hint, and meekly went back to his coffee, to the exasperation of Morgana and Mash.

Ren chuckled. “Well, glad you guys like it,” he replied with a grin. “Let me explain: That’s a blend made with Ethiopian Mocha Harrar. Mocha coffee has a unique spicy flavor and a strong aroma with blackberry notes. I figured with the day ahead of us, we could use something a bit stronger to perk us up a bit.” With that, he quietly sipped at his own cup, enjoying the flavors spreading across his tongue.

Times like this, he could imagine himself back at LeBlanc, with the scent of coffee filling the quiet café, the TV in the background. Sometimes, he could imagine Sojiro there as well, cooking a new batch of curry or reading a newspaper. Ren often found himself at one of the desks when the café closed for the evening, doing a crossword, studying, or just reading. Despite the turbulent time of his stay there, the calm in the middle of the storm was always appreciated.

He needed it more than ever now.

Morgana looked around. “Hey, uh, Fou’s not here, is he?” he asked, glancing about nervously.

Mash blinked in surprise before shaking her head. “No, he isn’t,” she replied. “I was going to bring him but I remember you’re uncomfortable with him, Mr. Morgana. He should still be sleeping in my room, last I left him.”

The catlike being breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mash,” he said with a grateful sigh. “It’s always nice to have someone so observant and considerate.”

Ren chuckled but decided not to pursue the topic. While Morgana being scared of Fou was still funny, he knew that under it all, it was a serious topic. Morgana wasn’t the type to get scared easily, especially in such a manner. However, neither of them had any evidence or information about Fou, and their knowledge about different beings was lacking. Not to mention, pretty much everyone – from Servants to the staff to the three in the room with them – would vouch for the adorable being.

At this point, it was better not to prod the hornet’s nest any more than they had to.

After a moment of relative peace, Ren decided to cut to the chase. Better to get this over with. “So, this is where we’re having the debriefing?” he prodded, forcing his usual smirk on his face. “Gotta say, it’s better than some stuffy director’s office. Or an interrogation room.”

Just like that, the air changed. Though nobody outwardly did anything, a certain tension arose all around them, ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Morgana drank his coffee calmly, though his eyes flicked between the three warily. Mash looked nervous while Da Vinci continued sipping at her own brew, looking quite at ease.

Roman sighed as he placed his cup down before giving Ren a tired smile. “Well, yes,” he admitted. “I admit that I looked at your past records, Ren. What little I could find anyway – most of it has been scrubbed clean or extremely vague. Judging from your reaction after La Charite in Orleans, you wouldn’t appreciate being interrogated – or an atmosphere where it feels like it. So, I decided to try this instead.” He scratched his chin abashedly, smiling nervously. “I apologize if it seems like I’m manipulating you here, Ren. Morgana.”

“’Seems like’, nothing,” Morgana growled. “Just call it for what it is. We’ve seen these kinds of tactics before so spare us.” Ren blinked with surprise. He hadn’t expected Morgana to argue so viciously on his behalf. Though the accusation left Roman deeply uncomfortable, Ren had to agree with it – this felt remarkably like the ‘therapy’ sessions with Maruki in the past. Granted, what happened afterward with his fake paradise certainly hadn’t been his intention, but the parallels were there nevertheless.

“Please, Mr. Morgana,” Mash beseeched. “The doctor didn’t intend on manipulating you or senpai like that. We simply wanted to provide an atmosphere where you two would be more comfortable. This was supposed to be a chat and a debriefing. We didn’t want this to be an interrogation. So… can you please trust us? Just a little bit? I can understand you’re wary, but please?”

The two glanced at each other, trying to make a decision. Finally, they sighed. “Look,” Morgana stated flatly. “What we’re gonna tell you guys will probably sound completely unbelievable. And whether you believe us or not, the information is incredibly dangerous and could be used for a lot of terrible things. We’ve seen it firsthand. We’re putting a lot of faith in you guys – not by choice but by necessity, since things are probably gonna get even worse than they are now.”

Da Vinci nodded, her usual smile replaced by an expression of seriousness. “Of course, Morgana,” she agreed. “This was one of the reasons why Roman had us conduct the debriefing in my workshop – I’ve crafted mysteries to prevent information like sound or vibrations from escaping. I can also monitor this room for any tracing or listening devices as well. As a genius, making sure my works are kept secret is a priority, after all.”

Ren looked between the three. All of them had put down their coffees and were facing them seriously. Despite the more… sedate environment, his vision flickered once more: dark, austere walls on all sides. A single metal table with chairs on both sides. He was sitting on one side, while Sae was facing the other, staring him down as he relayed his tale as much as he could. At that time, the plan and gamble was to tell Sae everything and trust her.

Perhaps it would be the same here after all.

“Alright,” Ren decided. “We’ll tell you what we can. We can’t tell you absolutely everything – we have secrets that would be better if we told absolutely no one – but we’ll give you as many details as we can regardless.”

Roman nodded gravely. “We understand,” he replied. Then he blinked. “Oh, right, I almost forgot – we installed the Grail you’ve given to us from Orleans the other day,” he said. “It’ll allow us to summon more Servants but more importantly, you should be able to contact your Servants with your mind – both of you.” He nodded to Morgana. “Of course, no one can listen in on a mental conversation between a Master and Servant so that’s secure too. If you wish to contact them so you don’t have to repeat yourself…?”

Ren and Morgana considered, then nodded. “If we’re going to be fighting with them on the field, then it’s best they know what we’re capable of,” Morgana decided. “So how do we contact our Servants?”

“It’s simple, my ragazzo and gatto,” Da Vinci explained. “Simply reach out to your Servants with your mind. They’ll notice your connection and respond appropriately.”

The two blinked then shrugged. It sounded weird to them but frankly, with all they had seen before and now, nothing sounded all that strange anymore. They focused, locating each of the Servants within Chaldea. Within moments, they had garnered their attention.

Master? That tone and timbre… it was Saber.

Hey guys. Ren replied. We’re gonna explain to Roman, Da Vinci, and Mash what happened to us. We’re keeping you guys in the loop as well since we’ll be fighting alongside you. It’s a long story so hope you guys will be able to pay attention.

It will not be a problem, Saber affirmed. We await your tale.

Ren and Morgana glanced at each other and nodded. It was now or never. They turned back to the three.

With that, they began.

—-------

Ren thought it would be a good idea to start from the beginning of his troubles: His arrest. That spring night encounter that changed everything just from trying to do one good deed. Nobody said a word as he spoke about it, listening carefully. Roman looked grim as Da Vinci idly swirled her coffee with a small spoon. Mash had turned as pale as a sheet, clutching her own legs tightly.

He paused when he said he was shipped off to Tokyo, gauging the reactions of everyone present. “You guys don’t seem to be surprised by this,” he noted, looking between the three.

Roman attempted to give a reassuring smile but failed. “Well, the thing is, Ren…” he began. “Such a thing is unfortunately far too common in the Moonlit World. End up annoying the wrong person and they could find different ways to make your life… considerably difficult. ‘Doing the right thing’ doesn’t really matter much to those people. Only politics and power really get anything done.”

He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Times like these, I’m very glad I’m not a magus,” he said, smiling weakly. “I like to think being a doctor suits me far better. Being able to help people without any strings attached is definitely far nicer than playing politics. Though I didn’t exactly imagine I’d become a director too.”

The Master stared at Roman before chuckling. “You definitely remind me of another doctor I know,” he commented with a grin. “You don’t have a penchant for giving experimental drugs to a minor and documenting the results, do you?”

The doctor turned pale as a sheet and began spluttering before both Ren and Morgana burst out laughing. “Hahahaha!” Morgana guffawed. “You should see the look on your face, Roman! Oh, oh jeez, Ren, did you take a picture? Please tell me you took a picture of that!”

“I-I’m sorry, but I didn’t have the time!” Ren replied, heaving between chuckles. “That expression was just priceless! Oh god, I’ve been waiting to use that joke this whole time! Couldn’t exactly tell my own doctor about it though! Oh, thanks, Roman. I needed that laugh.”

Roman deflated a bit in his chair, holding a hand to his chest. “Jeez, Ren,” he gasped. “That’s bad for the heart, you know? I was genuinely worried there for a second. Please don’t make up stories like that – we’re trying to take this seriously.”

Ren smiled innocently. “Who said I was making it up?” he asked.

And the two burst out laughing again as the doctor’s face once more lost its color.

—-------

He would never forget that day.

What’s the matter? Are you simply going to watch?

He could only helplessly stare, held back by knights, staring in horror as a blade was raised right above Ryuji.

Are you forsaking him to save yourself?

His will solidified. Took form. It was him, and he was it.

Death awaits him if you do nothing. Was your previous decision a mistake then?

A single decision that changed everything for him. Stepping in to help a woman in trouble from a drunkard, getting falsely accused, with her reluctantly helping him while turning a blind eye to injustice to save her own skin. Had he ignored her, he would’ve been safe, happy, and healthy.

But…

Very well. I have heeded your resolve.

His skull suddenly felt like it was about to burst. Not a natural headache, but thoughts, feelings, emotions, all pushing and raging within him. They wanted out. They wanted OUT.

Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I. Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage!

In the next moment, the knights were blasted away. He was standing free once more. But there was something on his face. A mask. Why was it there? It didn’t matter. It had to come off. He needed to take it off. He had to take it off he had to take it off take it off take it off tear it off tear it off

TEAR IT OFF!

After that, power unimaginable flowed through him. He rescued Ryuji with this newfound power. He got them both out, as well as Morgana. It would be the start of something truly great and wonderful. All alongside his new companion. No, the one who was with him all this time.

Arsène.

—-------

Describing up until his awakening dried Ren’s throat out more than he expected. He took his coffee and sipped it. Morgana in the meantime sat in his chair still, waddling his legs back and forth in the chair. He almost comically looked like a child if it wasn’t for the grave expression he bore on his face. Despite everything, both of them were rather calm. Morgana because he was alert for any changes in the situation that necessitated action but for Ren… perhaps it was because he did this before?

This was in heavy contrast to the three sitting across from them. Mash already knew about the Metaverse thanks to accompanying them to Orleans, instead going completely pale about Ren’s false arrest and his condition in Tokyo: shunned as an outcast by everyone, befriending only a fellow outcast, and nearly executed in a Palace the two had absolutely no clue about and only escaped by the purest of luck – Ren’s Persona powers.

Roman and Da Vinci on the other hand weren’t nearly as observed. The normally unflappable Caster nearly dropped her cup on the story. “The… the cognitive world?” she asked, her voice faint. “But such a feat is normally… no, what am I saying, normalcy is for those who are mundane. You, Ren, and you, Morgana, have proven to be ragazzo prodigio and magnico gatto once more. But it is quite a lot to take in, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Ren raised an eyebrow with a smirk at the three. “What, is it not that believable?” he asked a bit sardonically, leaning back in his seat as he crossed his legs. “I thought you guys would be more used to this.”

Under normal circumstances, he would be a bit more understanding, but given literally everything he had seen in Chaldea – ancient heroes and villains fighting alongside and against him, time traveling, mythological beings, and of course the Incineration of Humanity – frankly, it felt like what he had done was far more ordinary in comparison.

Roman sighed, rubbing his now very sore temples. “Ren, what you’ve told us, even from our standards, is almost… fantastical,” he replied, looking at the two with perhaps the most serious eyes they had seen so far from him (and given the situations they had been in, that was honestly saying something). “This… cognitive world that you’ve described is what we could call another ‘layer’ to the World.”

“Another layer?” Morgana snarked. “What, like an onion or something? Come on, doc, I know what we’re saying is ridiculous but you don’t have to play it up like that.”

“Roman is very much speaking the truth,” Da Vinci supplied, matching the doctor’s grave expression. “The World does have multiple layers of them – yes, Morgana, much like an onion – and each one has its own rules and mystery. An example of one is called the Reverse Side of the World. After the Age of Man had overtaken the world, many of the beings you know from myth had migrated to that layer of the world before it was sealed off by illusions.”

“The Reverse Side of the World…?” Ren repeated. A bewildered smile crawled up to his face. “What, so if we dig far enough, we’re gonna see…. I dunno, dragons or tengu again?” he asked. “Well, that would certainly liven up the world a bit, wouldn’t it. Maybe we could even open a tourist attraction like Jurassic Park.”

“It’s no joke, senpai,” Mash admonished him, shaking her head. “Many of these beings are filled with such mystery that modern humanity wouldn’t be able to fight against them. The reason humanity became dominant is because Alaya forced them to migrate before they were sealed off. They were all beings given power by humanity’s belief in them after all, and so were under Alaya’s jurisdiction.”

That shut both of them up very quickly. So, the beings they had learned from mythology or from their personas… were actually real? Not just cognition? Or was it the other way around – that cognition gave birth to them in real life until they were shooed away by Alaya? Actually, that bore another question for Ren: Was the Reverse Side of the World the Sea of Souls? He opened his mouth to ask, but quickly closed it. No, too risky to mention that. He would ask Igor and Lavenza about it later.

Roman sat back with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And you can access this… cognitive layer of the World,” he muttered. “This is…” He took another deep breath. He faced the two with a dead serious stare. “You were right to talk to us in private about this, Ren. Morgana. Accessing another layer of the World is considered borderline True Magic. If any Clock Tower mages knew about this… well, that’s yet another Sealing Designation slapped on both of you.”

Morgana blinked in surprise. “Okay, be honest with us here,” he said. “Just – how many rules are we breaking? Because with how you guys are talking about us, it sounds like a lot.”

The three looked at each other. Roman held up his hand and counted off on his fingers. “Let’s see,” he muttered. “Magic circuits out of nowhere, a crest that has never been seen before, completely unknown magecraft…”

“The ability to traverse into a different layer of the World, being able to alter the cognitions and minds of a person, let alone a Servant, being a maginico gatto,” Da Vinci rattled off herself, staring into the coffee she was still idly stirring.

“And using magecraft that can equal noble phantasms as well as phantasmal and divine beings, senpai,” Mash added.

At her addition, both Da Vinci and Roman whipped around to stare at Mash, utterly shocked. The doctor only sighed before burying his face in a hand and waved in her general direction. “And… that too, it seems like,” he replied, sounding beyond tired. “Point is, Ren and Morgana, if even half of that came to light, every single mage would do their utmost to drag you back to the Clock Tower by any means. I can see why now you wanted to keep everything confidential.”

“Wait, hold up,” Ren interrupted. “You guys keep talking about magecraft and True Magic. The way you’re making it sound, they don’t seem to be the same thing. Exactly what’s the difference here?”

All three blinked again. Da Vinci got up from her table, walked to one of her workbenches and grabbed a piece of paper from a pile nearby, as well as a pen. “Imagine this paper as the state of reality,” she explained. “Magecraft is being able to write on it, fold it, crumple it up, straighten it back out, what have you.” She followed through with the actions in succession, eventually holding up a sheet of wrinkled paper.

“True Magic,” she continued. “In extremely mild terms, is this.” With that, she tore the piece of paper up into shreds. Not only that – the papers in the pile she had grabbed the sheet from earlier also tore themselves up as she ripped up her own sheet. “True Magic basically defies all conventional laws of both magecraft and science and is something every mage aspires for. Theoretically, it’s possible, but also fiendishly difficult to discover.”

Morgana blinked owlishly at the demonstration. “Wait, so does that mean you can use True Magic?” he breathed in wonder. “And… every Servant can? You guys can just… break the laws of reality like that, no problem?”

The Caster blinked, then bent over laughing, holding her stomach as her laughs rung out loudly throughout the room. Even Mash and Roman broke into smiles – albeit tinged with some nervousness at the situation still. “Oh, my gatto maginico,” she gasped through her laughter. “You – I am honored, beyond honored that you would think so highly of me. Oh, I haven’t laughed like that in such a long time! Such an innocent assumption and praise!”

Eventually, Da Vinci settled down into mild hiccups, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked over at the two bewildered Masters with a broad grin. “No, no, despite my genius, I’m afraid True Magic escapes me as well,” she admitted. “Ultimately, it isn’t something I choose to pursue anyway. The ingenuity and art of mankind, breaking through its limits time and time again. That is my field of specialty. I have many more, of course, if I choose to dedicate myself to it, but True Magic is not something I wish for nor need.”

“As far as I recall in my research, senpai,” Mash spoke up. “Most Servants – even the most prominent Casters – don’t use True Magic. Magecraft that comes close to it, maybe, but not True Magic. Most magi lineages spend generations and don’t come even close to finding it.”

“So we should be thankful that Ren and Morgana don’t have True Magic or that’s another mark on the board for a sealing designation,” Roman grumbled before blinking and waving his hands. “Wait, we’re getting off track here!” he said. “We can talk about True Magic later. For now, we should get back to the debriefing. So, what happened after, Ren? Morgana?”

Ren and Morgana glanced at each other, still taken off-guard by the news, but regardless began their story again.

—-------

Things proceeded quickly. They continued to trek through the Palace. They freed Morgana from his cell and he brought his own persona – Zorro. There were multiple incursions into his Palace. And they gained valuable new allies. Ryuji and Ann.

The skull of rebellion shall be your flag henceforth!

There you go. Nothing can be resolved by restraining yourself. Understand? Then I’ll gladly lend you my strength.

Then eventually, things reached a breaking point. A falling girl. A false expulsion. They were running out of time.

They charged through, securing a route to the Treasure. Calling Cards. The king – a monster. Then they ran from the collapsing Palace.

And all that was left was a gold medal and judgement.

—-------

The room was silent as everyone digested the information. “So… what happened to him, senpai?” Mash asked quietly.

Ren shrugged. “I think he turned himself in to the police,” he replied. “Everyone – from the principals to the parents – had been covering it up because of his award-winning volleyball team, after all. But if it’s straight from the horse's mouth, there’s no covering that.” Morgana chuckled as Ren smirked at that little joke. “His medal sold for about fifty thousand yen. Paid for a nice hotel buffet with me, Morgana, Ryuji, and Ann.”

The two adults pondered it. “To think you would be able to alter a person’s mind in such a manner,” Roman breathed. “There are many schools of magecraft that can alter one’s mind, of course, including hypnosis or memory removal, but none that are as thorough or as in-depth as this. This layer of the world is… well, almost as fantastical as the Reverse Side of the World.”

Da Vinci nodded, looking back over at Ren and Morgana. “And you say you use a cellphone app in order to access this layer of the world?” she asked, wonder in her eyes. “May I see it?”

“Sorry, but no,” Morgana immediately snapped back. “We’re telling you guys this because we need all the help we can get. That doesn’t mean we trust you guys yet – at least, not enough to show you the app. We’ll see in the future but for now, that’s something for our eyes and our eyes only.”

Da Vinci blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Of course,” she accepted gracefully. “When I was alive, I didn’t demand my colleagues or my rivals to show their own works for me, nor did I show them my own until I was ready to unveil them. I will wait until you wish to do so.”

Ren and Morgana blinked. They hadn’t expected Da Vinci to drop the argument so quickly. And while they were paranoid it was some sort of ploy, from how everyone was acting, it seemed to be genuine. That was certainly something that they hadn’t seen in a while. But still, while they had to trust them, that didn’t mean they had to tell them everything.

Anything about the Velvet Room or the Sea of Souls, they would keep quiet about, no matter the cost.

-----------

After the formation of the Phantom Thieves, things moved at a breakneck pace. They used Mementos to train for their next heists as they looked for and awaited news of targets that needed a change of heart. For each target they took down, they gained a new ally in the process.

The scam artist, Ichiryuusai Madarame, and his talented victim (and eccentric), Yusuke Kitagawa.

The mob boss, Junya Kaneshiro, and his latest victim and student council president, Makoto Niijima.

Then there was Futaba Sakura, a girl who had been so mentally devastated in her youth that a Palace heist was the only way she could be helped.

And the corporate mogul, Kunikazu Okumura, and his gentle, kind daughter, Haru Okumura. It had all seemed to be going so well as they changed heart after heart, slowly but surely steering society towards the better.

Then Kunikazu Okumura died horrifically from a press conference from a mental shutdown – and it all snowballed from there.

—--------

There was a lull in the conversation after that. All three had been listening with rapt attention the entire time – their faces curling in horror as Ren spoke about Okumura’s mental showdown. Mash in particular looked like she wanted to speak, but couldn’t muster the words to do so, her lips opening and closing as she struggled.

“So killing a shadow causes a person to die,” Roman murmured, running a hand through his hair. “It does make sense. If a shadow is, as you described it, the subconsciousness of a person, then killing it is the same as removing a person’s subconsciousness. And no one can survive without one. At least, no one mentally healthy. It certainly does seem like a perfect framing job since there’s no one else anyone knew that could pull such a thing off.”

Suddenly his stomach growled, immediately breaking the morose air. Blinking with surprise, Roman checked his watch. “Oh wow,” he exclaimed, surprised. “It’s already 1 pm! No wonder why I’m hungry!” He smiled at all of them – albeit a bit strained given the whole debriefing and their story. “How about we break for lunch and come back to this? I think we all need a moment to digest things. And plus, I think we’ll need more coffee.” Indeed, their coffee cups had been stained and bone dry for a long while now.

Da Vinci giggled. “Well, it would be as good a time as any,” she replied lightly as she stood up. “Let’s see if Archer has whipped up something for us. He never fails to surprise, after all.”

That caught Ren and Morgana by surprise yet again. They were just going to leave, just like that? But admittedly, they were getting hungry as well. The former chuckled. “Well, it’s certainly nicer that we can take a break compared to the last time I had to tell this story,” he joked as he stood up with the others.

Morgana shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that, Ren,” he grumbled. Mash looked about in askance but neither of the two were going to provide an answer.

As they filed out of Da Vinci’s workshop with their cups, the Servants who had been listening in on their mental link with Ren and Morgana were silent as they pondered their story.

Everyone had much to think about for lunch.

Chapter Text

Cu Chulainn watched warily as three werewolves surrounded him. Their matted fur gleamed in the bright sun as they snarled, showing their yellowed, pitted fangs, their spittle drooling down to the grass below. They stalked around the trees around him, aiming for his flanks and back, looking for any opening. The sunlight glinted off Cu’s blood-red spear as he adjusted his grip and tensed his legs and body. He exhaled deeply. It was a waiting game – and they were watching who would move first so they could react accordingly.

A moment passed. A leaf dropped down from a branch and landed with barely a whisper.

Then another.

And another.

Then like a taut cord snapping, everything moved at the blink of an eye. All three rushed forward at once – one in front, and two behind him on either side. With a wild smirk, Cu leaped forward and pole vaulted over the first one. While in the air, he speared down. The Gae Bolg easily pierced through sinew and flesh, past the rib cage and into its internal organs. The creature’s body sailed forward under its own momentum stumbling the two other werewolves as Cu easily landed back on the ground.

Whirling his spear, he turned to face the other two and waited for them to untangle themselves. Tossing away the body without any concern for their fallen comrade, the two charged again on either side of him, snarling. Darting forward, Cu lunged with his spear, easily piercing the windpipe of another werewolf before spinning on his heel, using the momentum to throw the body at the last werewolf. The sheer force of the throw forced the last werewolf to fly back and crash heavily into a tree – and soon after, a throw Gae Bolg embedded itself into its skull.

The red spear jumped out of the werewolf’s skull and easily landed back in Cu’s hand as the corpses and forest dissolved away into data, turning into an open clearing once more. The Chaldean training simulator was, like everything else in the facility, a feat of technology unmatched by anywhere else. It could easily emulate all sorts of environments and enemies if provided enough data – and analyses of singularities provided more than enough.

That being said, it couldn’t exactly replicate every environment – like another texture of the World such as the cognitive layer.

Cu Chulainn blew a discontented sigh as his spear vanished in his hands. They had taken a break for the debriefing which was fine with him – what was revealed already had been just a series of revelations punching him as hard as any red-blooded Celtic warrior in the face. Saber and Archer had been rather quiet about their battles in the singularity and now he knew why. Shit like this honestly didn’t exactly sit well with him.

God, he needed a drink. But with his Masters, Roman, and that goddamn Archer there, it wasn’t a good time for it.

“Is your training not satisfactory, Lancer?”

Cu glanced up and saw Saber walking towards him, her expression neutral. Still, the look in her eyes was showed she was just as troubled as he was. Well, it made sense – king or not, she was just as personable as anyone else, much as she pretended otherwise.

He scratched the back of his head with a huff. “Thought I’d blow some stress with a fight or two, but this ain’t cutting it,” he grumbled. “I already went through a bunch of ghouls, werewolves, and wyverns. None of them did it for me. After what the kid’s been talking about, I could use something a bit more… tough.” He glanced over at the shorter woman. “What about you, Saber?” he asked. “You need to blow some stress too?”

The Lancer honestly expected her to decline – a prim, proper knight who only fought because she had to. Frivolous fights like this weren’t her thing. Which took him off guard when she sighed. “Perhaps a bout of sparring shall help take my mind off things,” she replied wearily, summoning her invisible sword.

Cu blinked in surprise before breaking into a broad grin, summoning the Gae Bolg once more. “Well, didn’t expect you to take me up on the offer but like hell I’d look a gift horse in the mouth,” he admitted, whirling the spear deftly as he lowered himself into a combat stance. His red eyes danced with fierce joy and eagerness. “You ready for a dance or two, Saber?”

Saber nodded stoically as she gripped her blade with both hands. They watched one another wearily, once more waiting for the slightest movement or change in atmosphere.

Then suddenly, they moved, faster than the human eye could possibly follow. Cu Chulainn thrusted at Saber, his spear like a bolt of red lightning aiming straight for her chest. The swordswoman in turn expertly parried the blow, deflecting the momentum of the thrust and forcing him off balance before bringing her blade up for a swift counter attack – an attack that was rapidly dodged by Cu spinning aside. Sliding his hands closer toward the spearhead, he sacrificed range for maneuverability as he launched several quick jabs and swipes at a point-blank position, forcing Saber to give up ground and back off, easily deflecting the blows at a more comfortable range.

An exchange between two masters that lasted all of a few seconds.

“So, what do you think of the kid’s story so far?” Cu asked as they sized each other up.

They began walking in a slow circle, trying to maneuver their opponent into more favorable territory or be able to take their flank while the other was unaware or distracted. “There is much to process, Lancer,” Saber replied honestly. They had to be careful of their words here – someone could be monitoring their fight and given the information their Masters had chosen to divulge, revealing anything would only result in a great deal of harm.

“Yeah, that’s a damn light way of putting it,” Cu grumbled before charging in again, leading to another series of blows. “Can’t say it doesn’t rub me the wrong way, our Masters’ way of doing things,” he called out over the crashing of their weapons. “But well, they’re damn flashy. I can respect that!” Parrying Saber’s blade, he swiftly directed a kick to her side. His foot directly collided with her breastplate, forcing her flying, though no harm was done otherwise.

Saber landed lightly as she held up her blade once more. “Flashy or not, our Masters’ methods are both strange even to our standards,” she admonished with a light frown. “Abusing it would be abusing our Masters’ trust in us, especially given how they have been misled in the past. Strike Air!” She slashed the space in front of her, firing off a hurricane gust of wind towards the expectant Lancer.

Cu’s eyes widened before he charged forward and pole vaulted, dodging the worst of the winds. Aiming himself at Saber, he darted down from the air, slamming the Gae Bolg at her head. Saber raised her blade in turn and the weapons slammed against one another, the impact causing the ground underneath the swordswoman to crack and crater slightly underneath the sheer force.

“Tch, always the killjoy aren’t you,” he growled as he leaped back, twirling his spear. “Can’t imagine how much our lives would be easier if we could do the same damn thing in our lifetimes.”

“Perhaps so,” Saber acceded. “But a power like that must have its drawbacks. I do not believe our Masters would be so frivolous in its usage.” That said, even she couldn’t deny the usage of such an ability. If she had that as a king, it would’ve made running Camelot far smoother, if only just to peer into the hearts and minds of her knights. Especially Mordred and Morgan. Perhaps if did, she could’ve…

No. That time was long over. She had done all she could with what she had on hand. To dwell on it now was pointless and an insult – to herself and to everyone who had followed her, come hell or high water.

Cu snorted. “Huh. Well, if you say so,” he accepted easily before charging back in. As they clashed, both of them understood something even though they didn’t talk about it: Their Masters were still holding back information. They could feel it through their mental link as they told the story to Da Vinci, Roman, and Mash. Still, if they didn’t wish to tell, they could respect it. After all, who knew better when it came to secrets than Servants, let alone a warrior and a king?

Every legend had its hidden aspects, after all.

-----------

Lunch had been a surprisingly quiet affair. Nobody really talked as they ate (a smattering of Japanese dishes including fried fish and miso soup, courtesy of Archer), nor as Ren brewed more coffee for everyone. Even the staff, who weren’t privy to the contents of the meeting, only held hushed conversations, surreptitiously glancing at those at the counter. What secrets could they be talking about? Especially the Masters, who up to this point weren’t even mages, let alone ones with any lineage?

What secrets would be worthy of consideration from Servants and Roman?

Although Mash, Roman, and Da Vinci were pondering their own thoughts, Ren and Morgana were all too aware of the stares aimed at their backs. For Ren, this felt all too familiar. He felt like he was at Shujin again, where everyone stared and whispered about him because of his known criminal record. His ears could make out one or two whispers about what they were – including no small number of disparaging remarks about him being some sort of upstart.

He had to inwardly sigh with profound exasperation. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Choosing in the end to ignore the whispers, as he had always done, he finished making five more cups of coffee, setting them on a tray once more. With that, he returned with everyone to Da Vinci’s office. He was certain one of them almost tried to trip him, but he stepped over the foot without an issue. Was that accidental or intentional? Probably the latter.

The debriefing definitely wasn’t the end of his troubles in Chaldea. He was sure of it. But one thing at a time. Dealing with it all at once was… overwhelming, to say the least.

They reentered Da Vinci’s workshop, the door closing behind them. “Are the others gonna give us any trouble?” Morgana asked bluntly as he hopped up on his chair once more.

Roman blinked in surprise, then sighed. “Ah, yes, I knew I forgot about something,” he muttered, scratching his hair. “Magi aren’t really inclined towards others, especially those of… lesser lineages, as they like to call them,” he explained. “Honestly, given you guys just… show up out of nowhere with your circuits and magecraft without any lineages, it’s a gigantic slap in the face to them.”

“Yeah, you told us back when we had the checkup,” Ren replied, nodding.

“Right,” Roman agreed. “After the debriefing here, I’ll have the rest of the staff convene and talk to them, straighten things out. With any luck we won’t have any further problems.”

Ren and Morgana glanced at each other. They had extremely heavy doubts that would be the case and judging from the discontent that radiated through the mental link, the Servants felt the same. But that was a problem to be dealt with later. One step at a time here. For now, they needed to finish the debriefing so everyone who would fight alongside them would be caught up to speed.

But with that, once everyone had settled back around the desk once more, they resumed their tale.

-----------

With the death of Okumura, the walls had been closing around the Phantom Thieves. Public opinion was rapidly swaying against them for being murderers, and they took to ground. Then they were sniffed out.

Goro Akechi. Known as the Second Coming of the Detective Prince, he had been apparently tracking the Phantom Thieves for some time, flip-flopping publicly on his opinion of them. Circumstances forced them to confront each other – and in the end, they made a deal.

He had one last target for the Phantom Thieves: Sae Niijima, the rising star prosecutor within the Special Investigation Unit of Japan, and Makoto’s older sister. Once her heart was changed, the Thieves would disband. Akechi wouldn’t turn them in, and no one would be the wiser.

At least, that was the public plan.

Akechi had access to the Metaverse as well and aided them with Sae’s Palace – a casino. His sheer cunning was beyond question, easily getting them past the many rigged games Sae’s shadow threw in their way. It went incredibly smoothly, and it seemed like the heist would be done without a hitch. It would be the end of the Phantom Thieves, quietly disappearing into the night.

Then their plan went into action. Joker was separated from everyone else.

And a horde of police awaited him.

Then it was dark. An interrogation room. Head muddled. Bruises. Manacles digging into his wrists. A kick to the gut. A stomp to the head. To the leg.

He couldn’t think. It hurt. He signed a confession. He couldn’t read it. They wouldn’t let him. He could barely make anything out. He couldn’t think. Barely speak.

Sae was across from him. Glaring at him. Impatient. Muddled. Recounting. The bruises hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt

-----------

“Ren? REN!”

Ren blinked with surprise at Morgana’s shout. He looked around. It wasn’t just Morgana – everyone in the room was staring at him with naked horror. The color had completely left Mash’s face as tears flowed from her eyes. Da Vinci’s smile was gone, already halfway standing up from her chair. Roman was as well, his eyes sharp with expertise. His mind clamored but it wasn’t his own voices – it was his Servants calling out in concern. He closed his eyes for a moment, quickly reassuring them they were alright. They quieted down, but Ren knew they would want to talk to him later.

“Er, sorry, guys,” he apologized, smiling ruefully. He carefully set his coffee cup that he had been holding down, noting the drops of coffee that had splashed out from his trembling running down the side. As his hand pulled away, the handle broke off. He blinked with surprise as his mouth opened slightly. Had he been gripping it that hard?

Morgana’s reaction was what surprised him the most. Instead of calming down he was staring at Ren, utterly terrified. He hadn’t expected his old friend to be so anxious. Smiling shakily, he reached over to pet Morgana, scratching his enlarged head. Morgana blinked and began purring, though that didn’t seem to diminish the worry that was clear in his eyes.

Roman and Da Vinci uneasily settled back down in their seats. “I’m truly sorry, Ren,” Roman said earnestly, bowing deeply. “I didn’t intend to trigger such a traumatic episode for you. It’s honestly why I had this debriefing set up here as opposed to the director’s office or somewhere else. I… I looked into your files to try and find information about you and… and I saw your records. Your reaction when you were interrogated in Orleans as well lead me to believe… well… I’m truly, terribly sorry, Ren. For everything.”

The earnestness of the doctor took them both completely off guard. What Roman had done was… well, honestly, it was expected from someone of his position. He’d have to be a complete and utter idiot to not investigate them after what they had pulled left, right, and center. But to hear it admitted so sincerely was what surprised them the most. Morgana had been partially right that Roman had set things up here so they wouldn’t treat this like an interrogation quite as much, but it was more for their comfort than manipulation, no more.

Ren finally sighed after a moment, sagging in his seat. “It’s alright, doc,” he reassured him with a weak smile. “It’s not exactly like you knew the details. I’m sure my records were scrubbed clean of them, all things considered. It’s in the past now.”

He looked at the other three and his smile became a bit brighter. “Still, at the very least, thank you for arranging all this,” he said genuinely. “It’s rather nice being able to do this rather than some stuffy meeting or… or an interrogation.” His grip tightened again at the mention again, but he swiftly relaxed before anyone noticed. “Maybe next time we do any debriefing it can be like this instead? I think I’ve been cooped up in enough offices for a lifetime.”

That left all of them blinking. The first to break the silence was Da Vinci, who broke out giggling. “Yes, I suppose you would be, my ragazzo,” she chirped, her eyes gleaming in amusement. She stood up and reached over to take Ren’s cup as well as the broken handle. “Be back in a moment,” the Caster said, walking off. “To not be able to finish such a wondrous brew is nothing more than a crime in Da Vinci-chan’s eyes~”

All four just stared at the retreating figure of the self-proclaimed genius before turning to look at each other. And before long, they all burst into laughter, the earlier tension rapidly dissipating.

Perhaps things could be a bit better after all.

-----------

Escaping had been a close and tricky affair. Convincing Sae to help them in the span of two hours was a tremendous gamble, and even more that she would know precisely what to do. He waited in the room for his doom. Whoever walked through that door would decide his fate.

His door opened… and it was Sae. Not Akechi.

Spirited away, their enemies thought him dead. That was how the Thieves needed it. They gathered more information, the last bit of damning info being the bug Futaba had planted in Akechi’s phone. They had their ultimate target: Masayoshi Shido.

With that, their last heist began.

----------

“Ah, so that was why you used such an audacious calling card!” Da Vinci realized, clapping her hands with glee. “Magnifico! I must say, I could hardly have done better myself! I’m certain everyone in the city saw it!”

“Oh, they did,” Ren replied, chuckling as he recollected the memory. “They tried shutting us down but Futaba being Futaba was more than prepped for it. She just ended up spreading it all over Japan. She’s ridiculous, honestly.” He shook his head at the sheer audacity of his fellow Thief. She had told them what she had been cooking but it still caught them by utter surprise. It certainly worked beyond their wildest dreams though – it caught Shido’s attention, and no doubt that of his cronies as well.

Mash blinked as she realized something. “Wait, you’ve seen this calling card before, Da Vinci?” she asked, peering curiously over the Caster.

Da Vinci giggled. “Oh, si, my dear Mash,” she replied happily. “I remembered seeing something in the past that reminded me of Ren and Morgana and looked it up. Happily, it seemed we had some news articles in the archives. It was quite an adventure tracing down their heists, though I must say I never knew much about the details like you were telling us, ragazzo.”

Morgana sighed in exasperation. “I guess we should’ve known better,” he mumbled. Ren had to agree. In the age of the internet, there was absolutely no way that calling card was going to disappear, not when anyone could whip out a smartphone and take a recording at anytime and upload it anywhere on the internet.

“Could… could we see this calling card?” Mash asked innocently.

Roman could only look between everyone flabbergasted as Da Vinci’s grin widened and Ren chuckled in clear amusement.

“Out of curiosity, what became of Akechi?” Roman asked, looking at the two Masters. “Did you guys manage to find him or did he get away?”

Both of them froze. A mutual memory of the blast doors shutting down between them as Akechi held off a squad of powerful shadows as well as his own cognitive self flashed before them. “That’s… that’s a conversation for another day,” Ren ground out, gripping his own knees tightly. It wasn’t something he wanted to revisit right now. Not yet.

The three glanced at each other before nodding. “Very well, we won’t pry,” Da Vinci replied gently. It was clear to everyone that whatever happened to Goro Akechi wasn’t something they wanted to share. There was no official news about him either – he was there one day and gone the next, like he simply vanished into thin air. And given everything Ren and Morgana had been telling them, it was clear that whatever fate he met wasn’t a generous one.

And so, they continued with their tale.

----------

It should have been the end of it. It should have been their crowning moment of triumph. On the night of the election where it would’ve been his victory, Shido confessed to all of his crimes on TV, begging to be arrested.

But things went wrong. People still had faith in Shido – unnervingly so. News reports scrambled out about going into a hospital. Sae came and told them that the Thieves were being hunted down, and it would only be a matter of time before they were all arrested. Everything was moving far too quickly. The public just simply wouldn’t accept the instability that not electing Shido would bring.

Fortunately, the public had a Palace of their own. Lurking in the depths of the Tokyo subway station.

Mementos.

Down and down they climbed. With every step of their fame came more levels to delve into. What was originally their training ground became their last hope as they descended, driving past eldritch tunnels as subways trains flew by on neighboring tracks.

Soon, they reached the depths of Mementos. The doors opened revealing a horrifying sight: The Prison of Regression. Countless people in jail cells, unthinking, proclaiming it paradise in an unsettling calm. The shadows of their former targets were locked up too. Kamoshida. Madarame. Kaneshiro. Even Shido himself was locked in with no wish to get out.

Why would they? It was paradise and freedom. Freedom from having to make decisions and choices. Freedom from the pressures of society. Why fight against the flow? Better to just move with it like everyone else did. It was safe. It was secure.

Then kept going. Though it seemed bottomless, they continued onward, until the jails narrowed down, funneling down into the bottom. Eventually, they reached the end. A giant panopticon, lined with countless cells. A giant circular chamber awaited them.

And in the middle stood a massive Holy Grail.

----------

“A WHAT?!”

Roman almost leaped out of his chair, his face utterly pale at the revelation. Da Vinci and Mash looked just as shocked. Ren and Morgana could feel the surprise emanating from all of the Servants still listening in.

Morgana held up his paws. “Calm down, all of you,” he snapped, glaring at them. “It’s not a magus’s Holy Grail, if that’s what you guys were worried about. The Holy Grail in this case is a symbol of the public’s twisted desires. The desire to have something or someone else do their thinking and make their decisions for them. It took the form of a Holy Grail to grant that wish. In short, it was nothing more than a big, overgrown Treasure.”

There was a moment of silence before Roman sat back down, massaging his temples once more. “Right, of course,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed at his loss of composure. “The Holy Grail isn’t limited to something like magi. It’s been in mythology before and thought of as a wish granter. Right, that makes complete sense in this context.” He reached over to sip at his coffee again – only to have it gently pulled away from Roman.

“Perhaps less caffeine would be best for your overstimulation,” she pointed out, smirking at the doctor.

“Wha-“ Roman stammered. “Oh come on, after being hammered from this kind of a story, I need it! Da Vinci, don’t do this to me, please!”

“Your coffee is quite marvelous,” the Caster noted, looking over at Ren while utterly and wholeheartedly ignoring Roman’s whining. “Could I perhaps trouble you for one more cup after the story is finished?”

The two Masters looked at each other before chuckling again. Eventually, Da Vinci stopped teasing Roman and slid the cup back over (with much grumbling from the good doctor as he gulped down his heavenly beverage). Now came some truly dangerous territory, but frankly, Ren already thought about how to phrase it. It wouldn’t even be a lie.

----------

They had lost. They were sent back to the surface. Moments later, the skies turned crimson as red rain fell – to none but the Thieves’ notice. Bone-like structures burst from the ground, reaching past the city buildings as, by the Holy Grail’s will, it dragged Mementos out and began merging it with the real world.

The Thieves fought their way up. The shadows now took the forms of demons and angels. There were even guardians in the form of archangels – Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Michael – but they triumphed and pushed on. They reached the panopticon once more and fought the Holy Grail.

Then it changed. The Holy Grail became a towering construct of order, following the will of the masses and seeking to subjugate them under its rule. The God of Control: Yaldabaoth.

Then the Thieves countered with their own power. They rallied the public to their will, gathering strength. And with it, Ren unleashed his trump card and ultimate power. The angel that would bring low the false god, bringing freedom for humanity.

Satanael.

And with one bullet, the God of Control was defeated.

----------

Ren took another sip of coffee. He was mildly aware that Morgana was shooting him a look for not mentioning certain details, but that didn’t matter. They didn’t need to know it anyway, and it was irrelevant to the debriefing. If it needed to be mentioned later on, he would. But for now, the Velvet Room, its attendants, and everything that had happened there was strict on a need-to-know basis. And they didn’t need to know.

The three, however, didn’t notice the look between them. They just stared, slack-jawed (even Da Vinci) at the two, the color from their faces drained from their faces. Roman took a very deep breath, placing his hands together. “So… let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You’re telling us that… during the course of your adventures… two textures of the World nearly fused together, and that you defeated a… cognitive god. With one of your own? And it’s the true form of Arsene?”

“Don’t believe us now?” Ren snarked, sitting back with a smirk.

Roman blinked at them, then sighed again. His head lowered so much he almost bonked it on the cup. “Frankly, if it wasn’t for our current circumstances, no, I wouldn’t,” he admitted plainly. “What you’re talking about – even among magecraft and possibly magic – is something that is next to impossible. Magi have tried such things before and they usually end up either failing, or very, very dead.”

He glanced wearily up at Da Vinci. “Have we had any reports of such a thing happening in Tokyo?” he asked wearily.

The Caster hesitantly shook her head. “I’ll have to look again,” she replied hesitatingly – a tone that certainly didn’t match the normally boisterous inventor whatsoever. “But in my investigation, I’ve seen absolutely no reports of the sort. I’ll check again. Perhaps I missed something.”

Mash in the meantime had absolutely no words, only staring at the two. Especially Ren. What could she say? What could she do? Her senpai had gone through things that were far beyond even the most prolific magi. Once more, she felt that he was far closer to a Servant than a regular person. She was aware of the gulf between her and her senpai, and that gulf had only grown vastly wider and deeper with everything she heard. Including shooting a God of Control.

Was there anything she could do in a short time to catch up at all?

“There was another incident after that,” Ren added on. “But honestly, it was much the same as what happened before – and yes, I did end up shooting yet another cognitive god. They don’t seem to end, do they?”

Morgana stared in shock at Ren, joining everyone else while he sat back with as much calm as he could muster. He technically didn’t lie. Mementos did end up almost fusing to the real world again and there was a new cognitive god seeking control once more. It was just the details and context that were different.

Takuto Maruki. The false paradise. A place where everyone could have their dreams granted and could be eternally happy under his well-meaning auspices. A place where the Phantom Thieves could throw away their masks, where they no longer had to pretend. All they had to do was believe in him, and they no longer had to suffer anymore.

And still, they had chosen to defy him. They tore everyone away from that false paradise based only on their own ideals. At that time, it seemed right. But then, given how humanity was incinerated now, from what he saw of the two singularities he had been in, where suffering and death abounded… could things have ultimately been different? Could those who have died ended up living happy lives again?

His mind flashed back. Haru’s dad. Futaba’s mom. They were so happy to have them back that he had been reluctant to push them to remember. Yet he did, and they made their choice to face reality anyway.

They had declared a cruel but fulfilling reality was better than a gentle yet hollow dream. He still believed that himself. But what happened if that reality was crueler than any of them had anticipated?

At any rate, he wasn’t sure how Roman, Da Vinci, Mash, or the Servants would react if they knew he had knowing pulled all of them away from a paradise, real or false. Things could sour very quick. It was better to keep quiet about that for now until he knew better their personalities and could trust their reactions and stances on the matter.

“Not once, but twice,” Roman muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Ren, I already said this, but what you have achieved is beyond extraordinary. Still, it all makes sense now. Your abilities, your experience, your knack for planning and tactics… with all you have been through, they must’ve been honed to a razor sharp level.”

He smiled at the two of them. “No doubt you two have more secrets yet,” he honestly stated. “But what you have divulged today was still incredibly significant. Thank you for trusting us. We’ll do what we can to work with you moving forward. Can we count on you for the same?”

The two Masters glanced at each other. Morgana sighed. “Well, it’s not like we’ve a choice,” he grumbled. “What with humanity up in flames and all. But we’ll work with you – you guys seem to be good, reliable people at least. Though less so on your part, doctor.” The last bit came with a smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye at Roman.

The doctor’s mouth dropped. “Wha – how am I unreliable?!” he demanded. “I do well enough in mission control! And I’m here working my butt off for you guys! Mash, back me up here!” He turned to look over at Mash – who had pointedly turned away from Roman. “LOOK AT ME, YOU TRAITOR!”

Da Vinci burst out laughing. “Glad to see that settled,” she commented cheerily. “Oh, speaking of, may I borrow your armaments, Ren? Morgana? I took a look at the data about their performance and have some ideas how they could be improved.”

Ren and Morgana blinked. They were hesitant to hand over their weapons, but they looked at Da Vinci’s eyes. That glint of passion was so familiar to them. They had seen a similar look from both Futaba and Yusuke whenever the two of them were utterly possessed by some form of inspiration. They usually ended up creating wonders – while weirding everyone out.

The former relented, taking out his knife with a chuckle. “Go easy on it, Da Vinci,” he said, handing it over with a grin. “I’m gonna need it before long at the rate things are going.”

The Caster giggled. “Oh, please, ragazzo,” she purred as she collected Morgana’s weapon as well. “I treat all my creations with the gentleness and harshness they deserve. Just leave it to the genius Da Vinci-chan. You won’t be disappointed whatsoever~!”

Morgana chuckled. “Yeah, I have zero doubt in that, Da Vinci,” he replied.

Mash suddenly blinked. “Ah, I just remembered!” she started. She looked over at the two. “Um… can you guys tell us now where the director is? Or is that still a secret?”

Ren froze for a second. He took a deep breath as he considered his answer. “Unfortunately, that’s still a secret,” he answered uneasily. “I did talk to her, though. She’s doing fine. And if you guys didn’t believe me, she wanted me to tell you this: Stars. Cosmos. Gods. Animus. Ant… um… Antrum. Universe – er, wait, no. Unverse. Anima. Animusphere.”

With every word Ren recited, despite the mistakes he made, the three’s faces once more grew paler and paler. “That’s… that’s the aria of the Animusphere magecraft,” Roman gasped. “It’s not a huge secret but… I haven’t heard the director ever mention it while at Chaldea. Have you?” He turned to the two women for confirmation. Both Da Vinci and Mash shook their heads. “So the only way you could’ve known those words in that sequence…”

Da Vinci smiled weakly at the two Masters. “Perhaps that’s enough world-shattering revelations for one day,” she noted gently. “I don’t think the poor doctor’s heart can take anymore, especially coupled with the coffee he’s been drinking.”

“I can monitor my own health just fine, Da Vinci,” Roman grumbled – only to be met with flat stares from literally everyone at the table. “Really, only Olga and Wodime would’ve known that aria-“

“Who?” Ren asked.

“The leader of Team A,” Mash supplied. “They were supposed to be the ones sent to the first Singularity, but there was a failure with the coffins and are currently sealed in cryogenic storage, per the director’s orders in order to save their lives.”

Ren blinked. They were in cryo? Which meant they were still alive, albeit in critical condition. A shame. More manpower would be very fortunate to have in a time like this, especially when it seemed like everything hinged on him. Then an image appeared in his mind – Maria. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Actually, what if I healed them?” he asked quietly.

That immediately drew everyone’s attention, including the Servants. “Heal – you’re gonna use Maria again?” Morgana gasped. “Ren, no! The last time you used Maria left you almost dead! We can’t risk it again this time! No way in hell!”

“I’m not gonna use Salvation, Morgana,” Ren quickly reassured him. “A Mediarahan wouldn’t make as much of a difference compared to Salvation, and it’s a lot less taxing to use. Plus, Roman, Da Vinci, and Mash are here.” He nodded to the three who were staring at him in shock once again. “They’ll monitor me and make sure I don’t get into too much trouble. Worst case, the Servants will rush me to the medbay and probably Roman too. In fact, I could have Rider give him a lift.”

Roman spluttered at that last remark as Ren grinned teasingly. Through their mental link, he could sense Rider’s amusement carry through despite everyone’s mutual concern. However, the air chilled as Da Vinci flashed a look over at Roman, despite her smile remaining beatific as always. “Ah yes, Roman is known as something of a pervert,” she commented, her warm tone contrasting very heavily to the drastically dropping air around her. “I’m sure he would enjoy that.

The doctor cleared his throat and pointedly looked away from Da Vinci to Ren. “Are you sure you can and want to do this, Ren?” he asked.

Ren nodded and shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked casually.

The resulting groans and complaints only brought a grin to his face.

----------

The Command Center was buzzing with apprehensive and excited murmurs alike. Ren, Morgana, Mash, Roman, and Da Vinci marched out of the latter’s workshop and went straight there, drawing the attention of the Chaldean staff. Their gossip only grew as they approached the Coffins – a very specific of Coffins, in fact. After Lev’s bombing, Team A had been shoved into the Coffins to preserve their lives. Their readings had been carefully monitored and, while stable, they weren’t recovering.

The Servants soon joined them. Saber and Archer were closest at hand. Cu and Rider were near the doors, ready to bolt to whichever direction they were needed. Elizabeth was closer to the crowd, trying to look grave and serious like she knew what she was doing. Joan had come out of hiding and was waiting outside the Command Room, to the knowledge of only Cu Chulainn and Rider. Neither of them acknowledged her though they noted her presence.

Ren took a small breath, ignoring the attention that was on him. Looking at it front the outside, he noticed just how tiny the Coffins really were. No room to stretch or move about. If they were shorter in length, they really would be coffins. He hoped none of Team A were claustrophobic.

“Everyone’s in position, Ren,” Roman called out. He had manned a nearby workstation, pulling up the statuses of the Masters within. They all knew their roles, whether they were told or implied. “It’s on you now.”

The Master of Chaldea nodded. It was up to him. He switched his masks within his mind, once more envisioning tearing it off.

“Maria.”

The persona once more appeared in a flash of blue flame, to the awe of everyone nearby. The holy aura of the persona was powerful, yet comforting and warm. A few of the Chaldean staff immediately dropped their hands and whispered a quick prayer, so inspired they were by its presence – and drawing a few annoyed glances at a small number of their peers. The persona didn’t pay anyone any mind – it was there only to fulfill Ren’s wishes. With a wave of her hand, a bright green light glowed around the Coffins, suffusing the air with a fresh spring breeze. Those who were praying did so more fervently. It was a miracle come true.

Ren immediately collapsed on his knees, gasping for breath. The circuits in his body burned like he had been scalded. Mash and Morgana immediately ran to his side, calling in concern. Mustering the last bit of his will, he gave them a weak and tired grin. “It’s alright guys, it’s fine,” he reassured them, his voice shockingly faint. He looked up. “Doc? How are we looking?”

Roman, who had stood up and was just about to rush to Ren’s side, blinked in surprise at the question. Then he looked back at the statuses of the Masters. A second passed. Then two. Then he shook his head. “Their signs have stabilized, but they’re showing no signs of waking up,” he replied. “I don’t want to bring them out of cryo yet, just in case. I’ll keep monitoring their signs in case something changes.”

The Master panted, then sighed. He looked at the Coffins once more. Well, it wasn’t like Mediarahan was a cure-all, be-all. It was immensely powerful, no doubt, but he wasn’t sure how much its healing could influence. He closed his eyes, both acceptance and sadness flowing through him despite the pain coursing through his body. He had done what he could. And sometimes, in situations like this, it had to be enough.

Then the console beeped, drawing everyone’s attention. Roman glanced back down – and his eyes widened. “O-one of the Masters is waking!” he announced. Tapping a few keys, he immediately started bring the Master out of cryo from the coffin. He spun around to the door. “One of you grab the gurney! NOW!” he roared. Rider moved a hair faster, immediately darting down the hall in a purple blur.

The doctor raced over as Mash gently led Ren clear from the area. Warning sirens blared from the Coffin as the temperature within raised and thawing out the person within. A few tense seconds passed. Then the Coffin opened and a person tumbled out into Roman’s arms just as Rider arrived with a gurney. Archer and Saber took the person and laid them out in the portable bed as Roman immediately began doing diagnostic checks.

Ren shambled up, curious as to who it was. A girl wearing an orange plugsuit, with a mop of even more vivid orange hair. She looked to be about his age, maybe slightly younger. She was deathly pale and shivering, her body trying to adjust to the temperature. “Get her to the medbay, now!” Roman commanded. Rider nodded, immediately wheeling the girl off. Cu Chulainn followed them as a guard just in case.

Roman gulped. There was much to do to stabilize her, but his preliminary diagnostics were optimistic. He smiled at Ren. “Well, that’s another life saved,” he commented reassuringly. With that, he left the Command Center to man his own post as a doctor once more.

Da Vinci smiled warmly as the doctor passed her, then turned to the others. “Reinitialize her Master status!” she ordered. “Reopen all permissions for her for summoning and rayshifting! Register her once more for Chaldea with all privileges and duties on record!”

“Master Ritsuka Fujimaru!”

Chapter Text

Time passed remarkably quickly after that. At Mash and Morgana’s insistence, Ren was also brought to the medbay for a checkup. Lying on the bed, he couldn’t see the new Master he saved behind the drawn curtain – though he swore he heard some snores coming from the other side. He blinked at that, then almost broke into a relieved chuckle. Well, she seemed to be doing just fine regardless.

Roman came around, looking a bit harried but otherwise the happiest he had seen in some time. “She’s surprisingly tough,” he commented. “After getting warmed up, she just went straight to sleep.” He glanced over, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle as she murmured something and turned in her sleep. “She’s always had a lot of energy, that one,” he murmured.

He looked back over at Ren, tapping a few keys on the computer beside his bed. “Your readings look fine,” he murmured. “Just typical symptoms of overusing your mana circuits.” He sighed in relief. “Honestly, I’m just thinking back when you healed Siegfried with that… persona, you called it? That was definitely scary. Almost lost you there, Ren. Maybe you could give all of us a break from your… craziness for a bit?”

Ren chuckled, the motion sending arcs of pain running through his body. “I make no promises, doc,” he replied with a cheeky grin. “So, I guess I’m staying here for the night?”

The doctor hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “No, you don’t need to stay here,” he replied. “I do recommend getting some rest though. It’s been a long day for all of us, you in particular.”

“Yeah, I’ve always had to tell him to get some rest,” Morgana grumbled from his seat beside Ren’s bed. “Don’t worry, Roman – I’ll make sure he doesn’t move a finger from the bed.”

And suddenly Ren remembered how many times Morgana basically told him to go to bed. How nostalgic.

“I can help get him to his room, Roman,” Mash offered, stepping forward. “You should be monitoring Ritsuka-senpai, correct?”

Roman blinked in surprise at how forthright Mash was, then nodded slowly. “Er, yeah,” he replied lamely. “I doubt her condition will change but better safe than sorry. Thanks for helping out, Mash.”

Mash nodded, stepping closer to the bed as Ren carefully swung his legs off the bed, wincing in pain. “Here, let me help you, senpai,” she murmured, taking Ren’s arm and placing it over her shoulders.

Ren winced again at the motion before flashing a pained smile at Mash. “Heh, thanks Mash,” he gasped. “You’re a lifesaver.” He glanced over at Roman. “And thanks for checking up on me, doc. Means quite a bit.”

The doctor blinked, then shook his head with a smile. “No, thank you for everything so far, Ren,” he replied earnestly. “Though I think we’ll be thanking you even more before long. Now get going. Don’t think you guys want to hang around here much longer.”

The three nodded and slowly made their way out of the medbay, Ren leaning heavily on Mash. “Hope I’m not too heavy for you, Mash,” Ren joked, giving her an easy grin as he shambled down the halls as Morgana walked beside them, back in his cat form.

The shielder blinked in surprise and shook her head. “Oh, not at all, senpai!” she quickly reassured him. “You are very light. I’m thankful I’m able to help!” She was silent as they continued shuffling along the hallways, Ren grunting every once in a while as something shifted and caused further pain. “Um, senpai…?” she asked quietly.

“What’s up, Mash?” he responded.

“Um…” She hesitated. It wasn’t like she had one question – she had so many of them that she couldn’t sort them out in her head. Questions about the details of her senpai’s story. Questions about what he had kept hidden from her, Roman, and Da Vinci. The places he had seen, what he had done day to day between all these adventures. He mentioned something about a doctor using experimental drugs on him. She wanted to know about that. Just so many things she wanted to ask.

But in the end, she thought back to that time when they sat outside of Bordeaux, waiting for Marie underneath that tree. “You didn’t mention Sumire, senpai,” she said. “Was she part of your adventures too? Or was she someone else?”

Ren’s smile froze as Morgana immediately glanced behind him at the question. The hesitation to answer was clear. Mash opened her mouth to immediately take the question back when Ren let out a heavy breath, looking far older than he was. “She… she was one of my companions too, yes,” he answered her quietly, his eyes sorrowful. “She came a bit later on and her story is… it isn’t mine to tell. I’ll explain that story later on. Just don’t think it’s a good idea right now. Is that alright with you, Mash?”

Mash blinked at Ren’s candidness, but quickly nodded. “Yes, of course, senpai,” she agreed. She got another answer at least – or rather, even more questions now. As usual, whenever she discovered one thing about him, another three mysteries took their place. She couldn’t help but feel both sad and frustrated at the whole affair. Was this really as far as she could go at this point?

Before long, they were in front of Ren’s bedroom. He slipped his arm off Mash and smiled painfully over at her. “Guess this is our stop,” he commented with a small laugh. “Thanks so much, Mash. Guess I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

The shielder hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, of course. See you in a bit, senpai.” With that, she turned to walk away. It was clear she had much to think about.

Ren and Morgana watched her as she walked away before stepping into their room. Morgana hopped up onto a dresser, watching Ren shuffle and waited until the door closed. “You didn’t tell them about Maruki,” he noted. It wasn’t a question, but the statement more or less begged for an explanation nevertheless.

The Master sighed as he sat down on the bed. “Didn’t think they needed to know about him or his cognitive world for now,” he explained. “A place where everyone’s dreams could come true? It definitely sounds beyond tempting, you have to admit, Morgana. And at the end of the day, it’s not exactly very different from what we did with Yaldabaoth: Defeat him, take the Treasure, and watch the world turn back to normal. That’s really all they need to know for now.”

Morgana’s tail twitched as he hopped down from the dresser and back up to Ren’s bed, sitting down beside him. “And you were also worried about the other Servants?” he guessed, staring up at Ren curiously.

Ren blinked, then chuckled ruefully. “Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he asked rhetorically as he reached over to pet Morgana once more, who purred under his touch. His smile soon faded, however, as he thought back to the implications.

“From what we know, a Servant is defined by their deeds in life,” he murmured. “After all, they were these legendary heroes, warriors or…. Or even monsters.” Rider flashed quickly in his mind as he said the last part. “If they were granted a paradise like that, where everything went right for them, how would they take it? Do you think they’d agree with us or be angry that we took that away from them?”

Morgana opened his mouth, then closed it as he thought. “I… I don’t know,” he answered hesitantly, his tail curling in front of his paws. “I don’t expect everyone to agree with us, but what Servants have been through were far worse than anything a normal person ever has to deal with. It defined their legends, sure, but… is that something they wanted in the end? I mean, maybe Cu Chulainn or Saber would, but…” He trailed off, unable to come to a solid conclusion.

Ren in turn nodded soberly. “Yeah, I thought much the same,” he agreed. “They fought alongside us, sure, but that was just for a bit. And honestly, we really don’t know anything about them. Maybe it’ll change later but right now? It’s hard to say.” He painfully stood up and made his way to the dresser, slowly changing out of his Chaldea Master uniform and into his pajamas. “So yeah, better to keep that to ourselves for now.”

After he finished changing, he slipped into bed as Morgana curled up on top of him once more. Reaching to the control panel, he turned off the lights. He didn’t go straight to sleep yet, staring up at the complete darkness as he felt his body throb from the magic circuit usage.

They had revealed almost as much as they could to Mash, Da Vinci, Roman, and their Servants. Could they trust them with information about the Velvet Room or the Sea of Souls? Or of Maruki and the paradise he promised? Could they ever?

“Hey, Morgana?” he whispered.

“Hm? What is it, Ren?” Morgana asked. It was clear he wasn’t falling asleep immediately either.

“Have you thought more about Servants?” Ren asked hesitantly. “We already said it ourselves, they act, talk, and can even eat like people can. They even have Palaces. But in order to win this and get humanity back, we have to… we need to…” His words faltered him at the last moment, eventually trailing into silence. The air hung heavily between them as they contemplated his words.

Morgana eventually broke the silence. “Honestly, we shouldn’t think about it too much,” he concluded reluctantly. “We’ll just do what we can, like we always do. We can think about it afterward, after humanity’s been saved and everyone comes back. We’ll have plenty of time then. For now, we should just rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. And for a long while yet, probably.”

Ren hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed quietly. “We should recover however we can. Sleep well, Morgana.”

“Yeah. You too, Ren.”

With that, both Masters closed their eyes in an attempt to sleep. Laden with troubling thoughts, it would be a while before either of them drifted off.

Unknown to both, Rider silently drifted out of the room in spiritual form. Her instincts had told her the two would talk about what they had left out of their debriefing once they reached their rooms, and it had been correct. Evading the attention of the other Servants as she made her way in was tricky but not impossible as everyone else had been mulling over the debriefing in turn.

The news that the two were offered a paradise and they turned it down was beyond mind-boggling for her. A place where everyone’s dreams could come true. Her heart hitched as she thought about it. Her sisters with her once more. Untouched and undefiled by her. They would stand with each other, shoulder to shoulder, laughing and playing pranks on the various mortals they encountered, uncaring about the hardships of the world around them.

Was that something that was achievable? Was it something she even deserved in the end?

As she moved, she passed by the simulator and noticed that it was actively being used. That surprised her. Most of the other Servants were out and about, mulling over their own thoughts. Who would be using it at this time?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she passed through the normally closed doors. The training ground clearing was the same as always, though it was unoccupied. On the far side was a waterfall that fell into a pond, the excess water flowing into a stream that disappeared into the nearby woods. Sitting at the edge of the pond was the Lancer, Elizabeth, holding a fishing rod.

The sight of the normally boisterous and loud Lancer doing something so… sedate took her by surprise. First it was Joan with reading, now the infamous Elizabeth Bathory fishing. She quietly approached, becoming visible once she was a certain distance away. “I did not expect such an activity to be of your interest, Elizabeth Bathory,” she murmured, her words only barely audible above the roar of the waterfall.

The Lancer jumped in shock, nearly falling into the pond as she stared at the Rider with wide eyes. “Jeez, give some warning, would ya?” she snapped. Then she groaned in frustration. “And now look at what you’ve done! You made me scare the fish away!” Growling, she pulled up the rod to make sure the bait was still there before casting the line out again, grumbling ill-temperedly.

Medusa could only watch at the very odd sight of the fluffily dressed Elizabeth once more settling down to fish. Moving quietly, she moved beside the countess and sat down. The Lancer’s eyes flicked over to her but otherwise didn’t comment, focusing instead on the line. They sat in silence for a while, waiting for a bite. The sound of the roaring waterfall, the cool breeze from the mist, the rippling waters… despite everything, it was rather soothing for her.

Fresher than the sea air at the very least.

“I did not expect you to take up fishing,” Medusa murmured once more, staring out over the water, watching the slight movements of the string form ripples along the surface. “Do you find it enjoyable? Or is there another reason?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I tried it back in Orleans,” she explained. “It… I dunno, I saw the puppy doing it and thought I’d give it a shot myself. It was… nicer than I expected, I guess? It helped me organize my thoughts, surprisingly. And I had a lot of those after the two of us talked.” She bobbed the line a bit to try and entice any fish. “The simulator surprisingly had one of these just lying beside the pond so I thought ‘you know, why not.’ So here I am.”

Medusa nodded in consideration. “What do you think of our Masters’ story, then?” she asked as she looked back out over the lake.

The Lancer was silent for a moment. “I guess puppy does know what being an idol takes,” she grudgingly admitted. “How he and his little group got famous and then that Okumura business… I’m a solo act. There’s no room on the stage for anyone besides me, so I guess I’m a little superior in that regard. But that doesn’t mean my act’s infallible. After all, I know well enough how quickly the public can turn on you.”

“As an idol or as a countess?” Medusa quietly inquired.

She scoffed in return. “What kind of question is that?” she asked acidly. “You know damn it’s both. A reputation takes months, if not years to build, and only a single night to obliterate. Whether it’s your own fault or your enemies, it doesn’t matter. Just a couple of the right words and the right people and poof – suddenly everyone who ever loved you now hates your guts.”

“Still, can’t mope about it,” Elizabeth concluded as she toyed with the fishing rod a bit more. “Puppy managed to climb back up to the top and even showed his enemies what’s what! And I’m an idol and a Servant! If I can’t match the puppy as a shining star like that, then I have no right to call myself an idol! I’ll show him – and everyone – that I can outshine who I was as a countess!” Then her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her own mouth. “Damnit, I scared the fish again,” she hissed in frustration.

Medusa could only blink in surprise underneath her blindfold at Elizabeth’s single-mindedness. The entire story and that was all she got out of it? The comparisons to her dreams and goals as an idol? It seemed honestly rather shallow, given everything their Masters had just relayed to them. Then once more, the image of her sisters standing by her appeared once more in her mind’s eye, and her grip tightened around her knees once more.

Who was she calling shallow? At least Elizabeth’s dreams were achievable. Hers were nothing more than a pipe dream – especially for a monster like her.

“Tell me something, Elizabeth,” she murmured, barely trusting herself to speak and trying to keep her tone of voice as even as possible. “If it were possible to live in a world where all your dreams came true no matter what, and both you and everyone else could be happy with no strings attached, would you live in such a world?”

The Lancer turned fully to face Medusa in surprise. “Huh? Where did this question come from?” she asked.

“Humor me.”

Elizabeth turned back to the pond, staring at where the line sank into the water and frowning. “A world where all my dreams came true no matter what, huh…?” she pondered. “That does sound nice. I’d be able to achieve my dream as an idol with a drop of a hat, and everything else besides. The beloved idol Eli-Chan, worshipped and loved by all. I’d barely have to lift a finger. But…”

She blew out her cheeks as she thought some more. “Part of the reason why I wanted to be an idol was to create an image for myself AS an idol, not as the bloody countess I’m remembered as,” she murmured. “If it was just… given to me, that whole goal would seem kinda… hollow, I guess? Like there’s no meaning to it. I wouldn’t be an idol in my mind, since it was through my own efforts – I’d still be the countess playing at being an idol. Does that make any sense?”

After a moment, she shook her head furiously. “Ugh, I’m no good at talking like that,” she muttered. “Point is, I wanna BE the idol, Eli-Chan, that everyone loves and worships by my own two hands. That way I can own that image and scrub away myself as that bloody countess. And I don’t need some world that can grant me dreams to do that! I’ll mesmerize everyone with my charms easily! Look-!”

She caught her volume increasing and lowered it to a whisper. “Look out, world! Here comes Eli-Chan!” she quietly cheered.

Medusa could only stare at the Lancer before looking back out over the pond once again. So even if she was offered such a world, she wouldn’t take it? And it was because she had her own goals she wanted to achieve with her own two hands? That was possible?

The Rider thought back to the Shapeless Isle, where it had just been her and her sisters. Where she had to fend off countless warriors, becoming more and more monstrous to do so. Then before long, devouring her own sisters in a fit of inescapable hunger to become a true monster in turn. Her own dream was different. It was unachievable, no matter what she tried. Perhaps she was one of those who would benefit from such a paradise after all…?

Suddenly, the line pulled, catching the attention of both Servants. Elizabeth immediately stood up and began tugging hard at the rod, reeling it in. “Come – on – here!” she growled out, glaring at the taut line as her quarry pulled and struggled, bending the rod. Then with a final heave, the Lancer pulled – and out splashed a large trout, flapping wildly against the line. It swung towards her where the Lancer’s waiting hand caught the line.

“I – I did it!” she gasped. Then she noticed the Rider staring at her and cleared her throat, drawing herself up. “Of course I did! Nothing is impossible for the idol Eli-Chan, after all!” she proudly proclaimed, holding up the still-flapping fish – and flinching mildly as it splashed some water on her.

The Rider was silent as she stared at the fish. She had been contemplating her own dreams and desires, wishing for the past once more. Yet here was Elizabeth Bathory, a monster one could argue was worse than her, deciding to do the opposite and chase after a future. The Elizabeth Bathory of the past would have scoffed at being an idol and never would have considered taking up fishing as a hobby. Perhaps that was why she was able to resist the call of such a paradise? Because a dream world wouldn’t grant her a future she wanted?

Medusa had much to contemplate.

Her attention was drawn once more as the Lancer began to proudly march off with her catch, no doubt heading to the kitchens with her prize. “You realize we are in the simulation room, correct?” she quietly asked. “That fish is nothing more than data, unfortunately – we wouldn’t be able to eat that.”

The Lancer’s resulting frustration as she paused and began stomping around in realization drew a small smile to Medusa’s face. She had time to think about it. And there was nothing that said she couldn’t have a bit of fun while she did so as well. The future was still there, after all.

Her Masters would make sure of it.

—-------

The sound of the gentle piano reached Ren’s ears again as he got up from the bunk. Glancing down, he saw he was still in his Chaldean uniform. Well, while it wasn’t his Phantom Thief regalia, it was certainly better than the prison uniform. He thought that perhaps with the resolution of the Orleans singularity, something would change with himself in the Velvet Room, but it didn’t seem to be that easy anyway.

He stepped out of his cell and was greeted by both a familiar and unfamiliar sight: Igor at his table, perpetually grinning as always and Lavenza smiling up at him as she held the ruined Compendium underneath her arm. In contrast, Olga had her arms crossed, frowning slightly. Ren had to wonder if she ever smiled. The tough act could only last for so long and did more harm than good anyway.

He knew that mask well, after all.

“Well done, my dear guest,” Igor crowed. “You were able to show trust in your new Chaldean allies, but not naively. And I must extend my thanks to you – you heeded my warnings and kept the existence of the Velvet Room a secret. I am very grateful.”

Olga nodded. “A good thing you did, Amamiya,” she agreed. “From what I could tell of the Velvet Room, as I’m sure Igor and Lavenza have told you, any magi would be doing their utmost to get in here as a method to reach the Root – and would cause untold harm to basically all of humanity trying to do so.”

She sighed aridly as she held her head in her hand. “Really, I knew you were troublesome when I first witnessed your abilities firsthand, but I didn’t expect the troubles to run this deep. You are truly a handful, Amamiya.”

“Oh?” Lavenza inquired with a tilt of her head. “Yet when I was showing you the various Personas my Trickster had wielded in the past, you were silent and slack-jawed in awe and admiration, were you not? Perhaps you would like to see for yourself? I’m certain I have the image around somewhere here-“

“Th-th-that is quite unnecessary!” she quickly stammered, her face turning into a bright hue of red. “It was m-merely a showing of the p-p-powers that had caught me off g-guard, and th-the contrast b-between such d-divine entities compared to his a-attire which is q-quite the f-feat considering th-they were eye-catching – because of their make! I d-didn’t expect them to be of such good make, after all, and- What are you laughing at, Amamiya?!?”

She rounded on Ren who had clapped a hand to his mouth, trying not to burst out laughing. “Oh, n-nothing, nothing at all, O-Olga,” Ren gasped out between chuckles. Honestly, it was like dealing with Caroline all over again, but coming from Olga, it was all the more amusing. He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Frankly, it always felt like forever since he last laughed no matter what he did.

A rather sad thought now that he considered it.

The former director cleared her throat and took a deep breath as she attempted to regain her composure. “At any rate,” she continued, her words coming through as a minor hiss of frustration. “It would seem Romani and Da Vinci believe your story and about my survival. You did well memorizing my aria. Though I’ve no doubt you’ve many questions regardless.”

Ren nodded. “Yeah, a lot,” he admitted. “But I’ll stick with a few. The two of them were talking about the Reverse Side of the World, where apparently mythological beings inhabit? I have to ask, is it the Sea of Souls?”

“No,” Lavenza answered with a shake of her head. “While the Reverse Side of the World is now home to many fantastical beings, it is not the Sea of Souls. The Sea encompasses the whole World and all its living beings, regardless of its textures. Every living being has a shadow, and where there are shadows, there will be a Sea of Souls regardless.”

That bit of news took Ren slightly off guard. Come to think of it, he never really questioned the workings of the Velvet Room, taking them for granted for his personas and powers. Thinking about it, with the briefing of magecraft and how the World seemed to work, the Velvet Room was definitely some place truly fantastical even among all the Servants and magi he met. What did Igor call the Velvet Room? A place between dream and reality, mind and matter. Maybe it was even more amazing than he thought…?

No. That didn’t matter. He wasn’t a magus and frankly, the less he knew, the better. He would rather not let slip something that would pin a target to his back. He learned that all too well from Ryuji. He loved him like a brother, but it was extremely tempting to smack him upside the head with how loud he was.

“While I understand you have many questions of us, my dear guest,” Igor spoke up. “I would be wary of having them answered. There are many secrets to the Velvet Room that will haunt your mind should you know them. As one of your famous philosophers once said, ‘If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you.’ Granted, it was for a different meaning entirely – though ironically, it is one that is still relevant to you as well.”

Well, Igor couldn’t be more ominous if he tried. Ren decided to switch subjects. “How are you liking here in the Velvet Room, Olga?” he asked, looking curiously over at her. “It’s gotta be different than anything else outside.”

Olga blinked in surprise at the question before frowning again – this time in thought. “It’s… certainly an experience,” she admitted, glancing over at Igor and Lavenza, both of whom were curious for her answer as well.  

“There is much to learn here,” she said. “Concepts that most magi only theorize before discarding them while operating with a source of power any of them would kill to access. Though I believe it’s because both Igor and any residents do their utmost to make sure anything they stumble across leads to dead ends.” She glanced over to Igor and Lavenza as their smiles widened ever so slightly. Neither of them needed to elaborate on that front.

“While it does get a bit… monotonous here, I have many studies to occupy my time,” she added. “Quite honestly, this isn’t far too different than when I was back at the Clock Tower. Hopefully I will achieve better results than when I was back there…”

She drifted off slightly, her expression melancholy before immediately catching herself. “Of course, you need not worry on that front, Amamiya,” she huffed. “I bear the pride of a magus through and through. I will master the knowledge here and be of assistance to you. Never fear on that front.”

Ren smiled and nodded. “I’ve no doubt you will,” he agreed cordially. He looked over at Igor and Lavenza. “Hey, I don’t suppose you guys mind if I take Olga out into Chaldea for a stroll? I’m sure Mash, Da Vinci, and Roman would be more than happy to see her again.”

Both Igor and Lavenza froze. Though Igor’s perpetual grin never dropped, his eyes told a different story. “I deeply apologize, my dear guest,” he said gently. “Unfortunately, Olga may not step foot outside the Velvet Room. It is not a matter of trust – I fully believe she will not betray us to her fellow magi – but a matter of means.”

Igor looked directly at Ren with a grave gaze. “Olga does not have a corporeal body,” he explained. “Her form and existence are currently maintained by the energies of the Velvet Room. You have saved a portion of her soul, and with the arts of the Velvet Room we were able to reconstitute her, but no more than that.”

The Master’s face fell as he looked in horror at Olga. She… she was trapped in the Velvet Room? She couldn’t get out or talk to anyone? A small portion of his mind wanted to believe that Igor lied to him – after all, Yaldabaoth had done so when he was disguised as Igor – but he knew that wasn’t the case. Igor would never lie to him, especially on such a serious matter. The cells that he had grown accustomed to were thrown into sharp relief in his peripheral vision once more.

Did he do the right thing? Did he just condemn her to another horrific fate?

Olga in the meantime sighed aridly. “You two know him far too well,” she grumbled, glaring at Ren who blinked in surprise at her words. “Didn’t think he’d blame himself to this level.”

Lavenza reluctantly giggled. “It should come as no surprise,” she replied softly. “I have been standing by my Trickster’s side all this time after all. His strength and cunning are only matched by his compassion to aid those in need and grant freedom to those around him. Thus, his grief and self-flagellation for your fate is only to be expected of him, despite all reassurances.”

The former director huffed before marching forward and flicked Ren right in the forehead. “Enough of that,” she snapped. “Yes, I may be stuck in the Velvet Room, but honestly, there’s far worse fates – like being thrown into a burning CHALDEAS. At least here, I still can take the initiative and assist you in saving mankind and humanity. And Igor and Lavenza have made it clear that, should I have wished for it, they simply could’ve released me and allowed me to pass on. I chose this burden and duties of my own will.”

Her glowing, yellow eyes met Ren’s surprised grey ones. “You gave me a chance, Amamiya,” she stated. “This was my choice made by my will: To assist you and to bring back humanity. I wanted to take this burden, so don’t you dare beat yourself up over this. You may be a Phantom Thief – and I daresay a truly great one – but you are not so arrogant or great that you can be responsible for every single person, even those you have saved.”

She crossed her arms. “Besides, Igor and Lavenza have been nothing less than kind and understanding, both to my situation and towards my studies,” she finished. “So being confined to the Velvet Room is not nearly as horrible as you believe, Amamiya. I swear this on my pride as an Animusphere.”

Ren could only blink, rubbing his slightly sore forehead at Olga’s words. Then he broke down laughing. “Right, right,” he replied between a few chuckles. He gave her a glad grin. “Didn’t expect someone as prideful as you to be fine with being stuck in the Velvet Room unless you were absolutely okay with it. You’re a lot stronger than anyone gave you credit for, Olga. That fake Lev really underestimated you, to be honest.”

Once more, Olga turned a bright shade of red. She couldn’t form a response this time, stuck with her mouth open as she tried to say something – yet every single word got caught in her throat.

Igor and Lavenza joined in on Ren’s delighted laughter. Olga would do just fine in the Velvet Room.

-----------

Ren yawned as he stepped out of the shower, drying himself. He had woken up a bit earlier than usual, and though he was tired, he couldn’t exactly get back to sleep. Morgana was of a different opinion, still curled up on the bed. Normally the catlike being would be demanding that Ren go back to sleep, but given recent events had drained him. He grumbled at most as Ren got up but otherwise stayed sleeping.

Opening his dresser, he dug through his luggage for another set of clothes. As he did, something slid out of the bag. A singular black glove. Ren picked it up and stared at it. He hadn’t even realized he packed this with him. It must’ve gotten mixed up with the laundry back home.

It was the day before they were about to steal Sae’s Treasure. Akechi had confessed his hatred toward him, took off one of his gloves, and tossed it at him – an archaic method of challenging him. Ren had hung out with Akechi and quickly pieced together that, underneath his polite, pleasant exterior, there was a seething anger and hatred that broiled within him. The contrast between the two sent chills down everyone’s spines.

Frankly, when Akechi dropped the act in Maruki’s dream world and acted like a borderline madman, it was ironically far more comfortable to deal with than when he adopted his fake mannerisms.

Ren’s door beeped, catching his attention. Someone was outside. Probably Mash – she seemed to be in the habit of waking him up during the mornings when she could. They could probably meet up for breakfast. Archer was probably cooking, though knowing her, she’d want curry anyway. And just about everyone in the facility wanted his coffee. He would definitely need to teach Archer more about brewing or he’d be overwhelmed by demand alone. He never had to brew so much back in LeBlanc.

But then, given the café’s clientele was about maybe twenty people on a good day, that wasn’t exactly saying much…

“One sec!” he called over his shoulder as he slipped on his clothes. As much fun as it was to tease Mash, he wasn’t exactly going to strut to the door naked. He still had a sense of dignity. Once he did so, he opened the door, expecting to see the lilac-haired girl – and instead was met with the smiling doctor Roman. “Oh, doc, didn’t expect to see you,” Ren said.

Roman smiled. “Good morning, Ren,” he greeted cheerily. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor today. Could you bring these documents over to Ritsuka for me?” So saying, he held out a small bundle of papers. “They’re nothing critical – merely her medical results as well as some other miscellaneous things.”

The Master raised an eyebrow. “She’s released already?” he asked, taking the papers regardless. “And isn’t that supposed to be your job?”

The doctor laughed ruefully. “She recovered a lot faster than I expected, enough that she could recover in her own room,” he explained. “And well, truth be told, my plate’s kind of full at the moment,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “Besides, I thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce yourself to her! It would be a good idea to be familiar with her, after all.”

Ren glanced down at the papers. Didn’t seem anything untoward. “Is your plate full because you’re working or because of Magi*Mari?” he deadpanned, glancing up at the doctor with an amused expression.

Roman froze comically, his grin now looking very forced. “Well, look at the time, I really must go,” he said hurriedly. “Thank you so much for this, Ren! You’re a real lifesaver!” With that, he took off down the hallway with as much speed as he could professionally muster – literally just short of a breakneck dash. Ren watched him disappear around a corner with a smirk before heading back in – and saw Morgana already transformed into his Metaverse form, stretching.

“You got all that?” Ren asked rhetorically.

“Yep,” Morgana replied. “While the doctor needs to do his job, he’s right that at least it’d be a good opportunity to introduce ourselves to her.” He hopped down from the bed. “Come on. Hopefully she’s not still asleep or anything.”

Ren nodded. With that, they went down the hallways. Roman had helpfully included a small map and room number so they could easily find it. Before long, they were standing outside Ritsuka’s room. He hit the button – essentially the doorbell – for the room and waited. “It’s open!” a girl’s voice cheerily yelled out. Ren and Morgana glanced at each other before the former pressed another button and the door slid open –

And were assaulted with a veritable ocean of red and black.

The two gaped. The entire room was decorated with Phantom Thief memorabilia. Little figures sat on her desk and bedside table. Posters of the Phantom Thieves adorned the walls, capped with a large ‘TAKE YOUR HEART’ flag right above her bed. Notebooks, stationary, and even fan-made calling cards were sitting nearby. And Ren could swear he saw a familiar red leather outfit sticking out of the overfilled dresser.

Ritsuka herself was on the bed, straining as she put up yet another poster in the last vestige of space on the wall. She had also changed into the Chaldea Master’s uniform as well, with her orange hair tied up into a small side ponytail. “Come – on – here!” she growled out before jumping up, taping the poster in place. “There!” she said, satisfied.

Neither of the other two knew where to start, just looking around the room. They hadn’t expected the other Master to be… well, frankly, a ginormous Phangirl. Even Mishima would probably tell her to calm down a bit. Ren cleared his throat. “We got some medical reports from the doctor,” he said, trying to change the subject as he held up the stack of papers.

The girl rolled her eyes as she got off the bed and bounced towards them. “Was he that busy with Magi*Mari to give them himself?” she asked rhetorically before grinning again and taking the papers. “Ah well, I suppose he gets a pass for now. I’ve been meaning to meet you anyway – you’re the one that tried to heal me and the others in Team A, right? Thanks so much for that!”

Then she blinked. “Ah, I suppose I should probably introduce myself properly,” she said, snapping her fingers. She grinned broadly at the two. “I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru, a Master! Just call me Ritsu!” she proclaimed. Then she deflated slightly. “Well, I say that but that’s really about all I’m good for compared to most other magi,” she added with a shrug and a chuckle.

She looked them over. “You’re Ren Amamiya and Morgana, right?” she said. “Roman already told me about you two. Nice to meet you two! Looking forward to working with you! Still…” She stepped a bit closer and looked Ren up and down with a smile curling her lips. “I didn’t expect my savior to be such a hunk~”

Ren felt shivers go up his spine and heat rush to his face. Okay, he hadn’t expected her to be this forward and – was this how the other girls felt when he talked to them? “So, um, I see you’re a huge fan of the Phantom Thieves,” he decided to comment, trying his hardest to change the subject.

He pointedly ignored the sound of Morgana snickering beside him. That cat was getting button-mashed later.

Ritsuka grinned and spread her arms. “You could tell?” she asked rhetorically. “Yeah, I heard about them all the way back in America – it was big news at the time! Taking down that scumbag teacher to start with and making their way up to a freaking Prime Minister? That’s awesome beyond belief!”

The energetic Master grinned at them. “They’re honestly a lot of what the world needs nowadays – something to remind people that there’s people standing up for them and to take down corrupt evildoers! I’ve seen enough of those types to last a lifetime, thank you very much!”

She looked over her room. “A lot of these cost a pretty penny,” she admitted. “Imports aren’t exactly cheap. I had to find them either online or at some corner foreign shop – all while dodging scalpers. It wasn’t a fun time, I can tell you that much.”

She moved over to a bunch of figures standing at her desk. “It was particularly hard finding this entire set here,” she explained. “Everyone and their mother has a Joker, but the other ones are so much rarer, like you wouldn’t even believe it. And especially this… particular… one…”

The pause in Ritsuka’s words caught both Ren and Morgana’s attention. They glanced over to her and followed her gaze – and directly to a figure of Morgana sitting there. Ritsuka whirled about, staring hard at Morgana.

Then she looked at the figure.

Then she looked at Morgana again.

Then the figure.

Then Morgana.

Ritsuka then stared at Ren, once more looking him up and down, albeit for an entirely different reason this time. She dashed over to the dresser and opened it – and was nearly buried in an avalanche of clothing and yet more Phantom Thief memorabilia. Both Ren and Morgana watched, bewildered as the girl dug through the pile, looking for something desperately. They could only look at each other and shrug in confusion.

Suddenly, Ritsuka grabbed something from the pile, dashed over to the two of them, and almost slammed it into Ren’s face. She looked up at his face, and her face paled and her eyes widened as she stepped back in abject shock and horror. Ren reached up blinking and took it off, and saw what it was: A copy of his mask.

Then the girl shrieked and tried shoving them out of her room, only to trip over an article of clothing and fall splat on her face. “Ow, ow,” she mumbled as she got up, holding her head. Then she looked back up at the two, shrieked again, and dived straight for her bed, immediately burying herself under the covers and pillows. The two could only stare at the quivering pile in the bed, emitting muffled screams, then stare at each other.

And thus, Ritsuka Fujimaru, one of the last Masters in the world and Phangirl Extraordinaire, met the Phantom Thieves.

Chapter Text

There was nothing but silence in the room. Everyone present was surrounded by the grinning, confident faces of the Phantom Thieves. Figures stood proudly on the table, littered with red and black stationery. The dresser was swung wide open, allowing its contents of clothes and costumes to lay in an undignified heap on the ground. The red and black was almost overwhelming to nearly anyone’s eyes and painted the owner of the room as an unabashed Phangirl.

There in that room sat two of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts themselves, staring at the quivering pile of blankets and pillows on the bed that was the aforementioned Phangirl.

Nobody knew exactly how to open a conversation. After all, how does one begin a conversation with one who was an enormous fan of theirs and was practically melting down in her panic? Alternatively, how did one exactly start a conversation with their idols when they were sitting about five feet away from her after showing one’s utter obsession with them wholeheartedly? Especially after the incineration of humanity forcing them all into close quarters?

It certainly was a small world.

“So, I guess we should say that we’re flattered you love our work so much,” Ren said, unable to hold back a grin. Ritsu squeaked and seemed to bury herself even deeper into her bed.

Morgana shot a glare at Ren. “Come on, Ritsu,” he called out coaxingly. “We’re not mad or anything – we’re just… um… a bit bewildered by all this. We didn’t expect you to be such a huge fan of ours is all. Um… can you come out so we could have a proper conversation? Maybe?”

“Don’t wanna,” came the muffled reply. “Oh god, this is beyond embarrassing. The Phantom Thieves are here and in my room and working alongside me to bring back humanity and here they found out I’m a huge, huge fan and they saw it all and I realized it too late and someone please just kill me NOW!” She screeched the last word as she somehow burrowed yet deeper into her pile.

Ren chuckled awkwardly. “Well, it’s certainly something, I get that much,” he admitted, sitting back in the chair and looking around casually at the different memorabilia. “Honestly, I thought Da Vinci would be the only Phangirl around here – didn’t expect anyone else to be either.”

The pile moved upward slightly as Ritsu raised her head. “Wait, Da Vinci’s a Phangirl too?” she asked.

Morgana scoffed. “Yeah,” he replied. “She found us out from Shido’s calling card. Guess it was kinda obvious – our silhouettes give us away. Especially mine – I’m pretty unique after all. Lemme guess, you saw the calling card too?”

“Well, duh,” came the immediate reply. “Everyone saw that calling card. It even got uploaded to YouTube. Pretty sure it got about six or seven million views before it got taken down. Even then, I think I saw some other uploads of it anyway. You know what they say about the internet – what goes on the internet stays on the internet.” Then she let out another strangled noise. “Oh god I made it awkward again! Whyyyy?!? Just end my life PLEASE!!”

The two glanced at each other. “We’re not gonna get really far like this,” Morgana muttered. “Oi, you’re one of the last Masters of Chaldea, aren’t you? If we’re working together, we need to fill you in on a lot. So get yourself out of there – it’s gonna be a doozy.”

The pile on the bed stilled. Eventually it raised itself up, with Ritsu’s flushed face poking out like a cocoon. “Well, better conversation than wallowing in embarrassment, I suppose,” she sighed. “So, give me the sitrep – what’s been happening? Starting from what happened after the bombing. Roman gave me a lowdown but nothing detailed; he thought my recovery was more important.”

The Phantom Thieves glanced at each other, wondering where to even start. They began filling her in, starting with the Fuyuki Singularity – their new magecraft, the Caster Cu Chulainn, shadow Servants, and finally Lev and Olga. Ren was about to repeat Olga’s aria when Ritsu popped her hand out of the blanket to stop him. “No need,” she said casually. “I trust you. If you told Roman, Da Vinci, and Mash this and they’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it too.”

“You sure it’s not because we’re the only ones available to do this?” Ren asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

Ritsu shook her head, moving more pillows and blankets aside. “Nope,” she replied easily. “If that were the case, you wouldn’t ever be sent to meet me, let alone be believed in the first place. What you guys are telling me is honestly ridiculous, not gonna lie, but then…” Her eyes shone as she stared at the two of them. “If you guys really are the Phantom Thieves, then that’s to be expected right?”

The two could only look away, unable to meet her enthusiasm head-on. That simplified things considerably, at least. They really had to wonder just how much her being a Phangirl would color their interactions with each other but honestly, it couldn’t be helped at this point. They had to trust their backs to one another, after all. They just hoped they could get things ironed out before long.

Before launching into explaining the Orleans singularity, they explained their powers. It couldn’t be helped and frankly, the more she knew about it the less shocked or surprised she would be if Ren pulled out Satan or Metatron once more. They explained to her the concepts of Personas and Palaces, as well as shadows and cognitions. As they explained, the blankets and pillows fell from around Ritsu as she crossed her arms, thinking hard as they explained.

Once they were done, there was a moment of silence as Ritsu processed the information. “We realize that what we just explained seems rather unbelievable and crazy,” Morgana began. “But what we’re telling you is the truth. Er… did you understand what we explained by the way?”

Frankly, neither of them would be surprised if she didn’t. Only Makoto and Futaba, both incredibly intelligent, understood it on the first go. Yusuke, Haru, and Sumire needed a bit longer to process the concept while Ryuji and Ann had been the slowest to grasp them.

Ritsu blinked and peered over at them. “Well, yeah,” she said simply. “Basically, you go into a person’s mind, which takes the shape of whatever deviousness they’ve been up to, you use your own mind and personality powers and beat the crud out of them while taking whatever made them that kooky to begin with – and that’s their Treasure, right? Sounds pretty straightforward to me, to be honest.”

Both Ren and Morgana blinked with surprise. “Er, yeah,” Morgana stammered. “That, uh, about sums it up, actually,” he stammered. “Wait, you’re not even the tiniest bit skeptical? When we explained this stuff to Roman, Da Vinci, and Mash, their jaws were about to literally drop on the floor. They were calling the cognitive world another ‘texture’ of the World or something.”

The girl shrugged. “Honestly, it makes sense,” she replied casually. “After all, how else would you make people like your targets confess so genuinely on live broadcasts? Blackmail wouldn’t work and neither would coercion. Plus, the guys you nabbed were pretty powerful, meaning it probably wouldn’t work anyway.”

She sat back on the bed, holding her knees close as she did so. “So the method you told me may be completely bonkers but hey, it checks out. What was that one saying Mash always told me? ‘If you remove the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”

“Sherlock Holmes,” Ren said, recognizing the quote. “To be kind of honest, I’m a bit surprised you’re so…”

Ritsu beamed. “I’m so what?” she asked eagerly. “Smart? Clever? Bright? Cute? Hot?” With each adjective, her grin grew more and more teasing as she leaned towards him more and more on the bed, her eyes burrowing into Ren, causing the young man to stumble a bit as he leaned away in response. She broke out into a giggle. “Didn’t expect the leader of the Phantom Thieves to be so shy, but it’s adorable,” she commented brightly.

Ren gave a nervous smile back. Honestly, he didn’t know precisely what to make of Ritsu. She was extremely cheerful and forward, getting into his face easily. None of the girls he met were ever so forward. The most was Sumire who managed to confess to him that one night in LeBlanc, but even then, it was fairly ordinary. Not even Ann matched Ritsu’s boldness and energy.

Honestly, it was rather overwhelming, but not in a bad way. If anything, he found the change of pace refreshing overall. Ironically, it got him to relax as opposed to being on edge. ‘What you see is what you get’ was Ren’s impression, and in a time where everyone wore masks – both literally and metaphorically – it was a very welcome change.

The girl looked over at Morgana. “By the way, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you?” she asked, looking him up and down. “You honestly remind me of the mascot characters I see hanging around at times.”

Morgana bristled. “Hey, I’m not a mascot character!” he snapped. “I’m the first of the Phantom Thieves who taught our illustrious leader here all he knows! I’m the great Morgana, the greatest cat that ever existed and will exist! So show some respect!”

Ritsu’s eyes widened in fear. “Oh, I-I’m sorry!” she immediately spluttered, bowing her head. “It’s just that you caught me off guard because I’m not exactly sure where you were and oh no I just insulted one of the Phantom Thieves what if they hate me oh god are they gonna change my heart I’m too young to have my heart changed but maybe I deserve it but AAAAA!”

With that, the girl immediately dived back under her blankets and muffled screams once more began sounding out from the pile. Both Ren and Morgana just gave bewildered looks at each other. How exactly were they supposed to deal with her?

Suddenly, the door beeped. Mash’s voice issued from the speaker. “Um, Ritsu-senpai? May I come in?” she asked hesitantly.

Immediately Ritsu shot up. “Mash?!” she exclaimed. She immediately raced to the door, to the further bewilderment of the Phantom Thieves, slammed it open, and dived for Mash, giving her a gigantic hug. “Oh my god, I missed you!” she cried, grinning ear to ear. “Oh man, Roman told me you almost died from that bombing! Oh, to see you so well and whole – I am so, so, SO glad!”

Mash blinked in surprise as she was hugged, being squeezed all around a lot more tightly than she expected. She chuckled. “Well, yes, but it is thanks to Ren-senpai that I managed to survive,” she replied with a shy smile. “Both he and Mr. Morgana are exceptionally talented and gifted after all.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Ritsu immediately chided, pulling back from the hug. “Ren, Morgana, and Roman have told me about you becoming a Demi-Servant and being completely badass. You’re a lot tougher than you think, Mash, and strong. You’re gonna be ridiculously awesome – wait, never mind, you already are! Sheesh, I lose track of things.”

The Shielder blinked in surprise at Ritsu’s rambling and glanced over at Ren and Morgana. Both of them flashed her encouraging yet bewildered smiles and only shrugged helplessly. Honestly, Ritsu was about as energetic as she always was, and that relieved her.

She recalled Ritsu always dragging everyone this way and that to do things around Chaldea or meet up with people. It drove many of the senior staff up the wall, but surprisingly most of Team A and even Olga seemed to appreciate it, even if they were reluctant to show it.

To see Ritsu so energetic… Mash missed her dearly and accepting they wouldn’t be able to talk again had been exceptionally difficult. She didn’t dare voice it before though – Ren-senpai and Mr. Morgana had more than enough burdens on their minds and lives.

“Oh yeah, remember what I told you before? About the Phantom Thieves?” Ritsu asked with an ear-to-ear grin at Mash. “Well, guess it’s a small world after all – look where they are!” With that, she stepped aside and made a grand gesture of showing off, indicating Ren and Morgana. Both of the Phantom Thieves winced and sheepishly waved in response. After all they had done to keep their identities a secret, to have it immediately figured out by coincidence like this was honestly painful.

Mash blinked in surprise and glanced at the memorabilia in the room before her eyes widened. Then she gave Ritsu a rueful smile. “I already knew,” she replied softly. “Ren-senpai and Mr. Morgana already told us when we were debriefing. I had a feeling too before, but just didn’t want to say it.”

That caught Ren and Morgana off-guard. Just how long did she suspect it? They could only feel embarrassment – maybe they were just as good at keeping secrets as Ryuji was. Which was to say, not at all.

“Wha?!” Ritsu exclaimed. “You kn- I- Why aren’t you making a bigger deal of this, Mash?! These are the Phantom Thieves, some of the most awesome people ever!”

The shielder winced in embarrassment. “Er, there was much going on, Ritsu-senpai, and I lost track of things,” she murmured apologetically. “I truly apologize. I didn’t mean to forget what you’ve told me.”

Ritsu blinked in surprise, then shrugged. “Ah, let’s let bygones be bygones. Come on, you’re joining us! I wanna hear EVERYTHING I missed out on!”

That was Mash’s only warning before Ritsu grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her in with a surprised yelp. The door closed behind her.

They wouldn’t leave the room for some time.

------------

The stockroom of Chaldea was a rather large affair. It was designed to feed hundreds of staff members for months at a time. Kept by preservation magecraft, the food within the storeroom would never go bad, allowing supplies to last for ungodly amounts of time. Before the Incineration, supply runs were often done every three months due to such preservation and capacity of the storeroom. Even now, supplies weren’t a problem.

After all, the storeroom was designed to feed hundreds, not a mere twenty or so.

Archer walked through the storeroom with a clipboard, carefully inventorying what the room had. It was a good idea to keep track of things, just in case. Everyone had been eating well and healthily thanks to both him and Ren (as well as the robots, though no one ever thanked them), but a situation that might threaten their food stocks might happen. It would be prudent to have some sort of plan for supply runs just in case. He would have to talk to Roman and Da Vinci about it once he did a tally.

Truth be told, it was busywork that could have easily been left to the robots, with data sent directly to the two of them. However, it was an old habit from a past life that he ultimately found relaxing. Tallying up food and supplies, considering what dishes he wanted to make, what he needed to shop for, things of the like. He certainly needed it after all the bombshells their Masters had dropped from the debriefing.

He recalled what Ren and Morgana told him when he asked them about what it meant to be a hero. So that was how they went about it. He heard one or two tales about the Phantom Thieves but was never in a position to find out who or what they really were. Were they still active before or after his execution in life? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he died with a smile, despite being killed by those he had saved in the end.

The red-mantled hero had to wonder – if their journey had ended with Okumura, where justice was done but they were condemned by those they saved, would they be smiling like him and accept it? No, they wouldn’t. They would do everything to clear their guilt and find whoever framed them in the end, as they had ultimately done. Anybody would.

Anybody that wasn’t him would.

A bitter smile twisted his lips as he took stock of the potatoes, his expert vision quickly figuring out their weight by their impression on the floor alone. He had long ago discarded his former identity. It wasn’t who he was anymore: A foolish boy with a foolish if beautiful dream. He didn’t need more proof that he – the being known as Shirou Emiya – was ultimately broken beyond repair. Well, perhaps not completely. Recent events in Orleans and his Masters’ story changed that a bit.

“I thought I would find you here, if not in the kitchen.”

Archer didn’t bother looking up at the voice. “I’m a creature of habit, Saber,” he replied casually as he tallied the peppers, strolling to the next item down the line. “Breeding a pattern of predictability pays off when those observing lose track of you once you break it.” He smirked. “One that I’ve no doubt our capable Masters themselves have bred to keep their heads down, though undoubtedly they were inexperienced considering how they were caught in the end.”

Artoria frowned slightly. “True,” she acceded. “Their efforts seemed less than subtle overall, though they managed admirably nevertheless.” She looked over at him as the man continued inventorying the storeroom. “Have you considered any of my questions since that day, Shirou?” she asked gently.

The red-mantled hero glanced over at her. “There hadn’t been much time to think about such esoteric things, Saber,” he chided her lightly. “It doesn’t really matter anyway. We’re Servants, overall. Whoever we are has long since been recorded in the Throne of Heroes, and there it will stay. What changes we make now won’t take effect even if we try. So long as we serve as useful tools to our Masters, then that’s all that matters in the end.”

To that, Artoria marched up to Archer and slapped him square in the face. The Servant’s eyes widened in surprise, any snarky reply forestalled by the action. “You are many things, Shirou Emiya,” she growled. “Compassionate, kind, helpful, a hero, and yes, a fool as well. But you are no coward. So do not speak like one – it ill becomes you.”

Her gaze relaxed into concern. “You are considering it heavily, aren’t you?” she asked gently. “The changes of heart. Are you going to ask our Masters for one?”

Archer didn’t respond immediately, his cheek still stinging from the slap Artoria gave him. “The being known as ‘Shirou Emiya’ is a fundamentally broken one, Saber,” he murmured. “I do not know if that is even possible. Even a construct of artificial emotions such as the doppelganger Jeanne d’Arc is less broken.”

His grip tightened on the clipboard. “As I’ve told you before, Saber, I am not Shirou Emiya,” he ground out. The image of the table in Fuyuki, surrounded by smiling people flashed before his eyes, and vanished just as quickly. “That was the name of a foolish boy who left long ago. One that now has people around him to properly guide and restrain him. The one who stands before you is a hero of justice. No more.”

Could he even call himself that in the end though? No matter what he tried or what he did, it all fell to pieces around him. He simply wanted to make the people around him happy, yet it was always fleeting in the end. Was it just pure selfishness on his part? Probably. The other Shirou did say that it wasn’t wrong to help others – a foolish dream that was beautiful, nevertheless. In the end, he was summoned with only one purpose: To kill on Alaya's behalf.

Truly ironic.

“And why can you not follow that same path?” Artoria asked gently. “You speak correctly: Our time here is fleeting. Before long, I will be whisked away back to the Throne once more and everything here will be for naught. However, that does not mean we cannot make meaningful use of our time here.”

She stared up into his eyes. “Is Elizabeth not doing so?” she asked. “Joan? Even our Masters blazed their own paths despite everything that was wrought against them, from powerful figures to gods to fate itself. You can do the same, Shirou.”

Their own path? There had only been one path for him, set by circumstances beyond his control. The image of flames and hell as the screams of the damned surrounded him. The vision of a tired, old man telling him sadly that it was impossible for adults to become heroes. A promise to become one. To aid, to help, to save those in need, no matter what the cost.

After all, what was his life in comparison to so many others?

Archer scoffed. “You are putting far too much faith in me, Saber,” he commented bitterly. “And what would be so different now than it was before?”

The red-mantled hero tensed up as Artoria approached… and laid a hand on his arm. “This time, I refuse to let you be alone,” she replied, the steel in her voice ringing out.

He looked down in surprise at the hand on his arm, then back into Artoria’s eyes. Her green eyes showed compassion and care, but at the same time showed the same resolve and determination he had seen countless times before in the heat of battle.

All directed toward him.

He wanted to ask why she cared so damn much about him, but whatever argument or question he had died within that gaze of hers. All he could do was let out a small scoff. “Do as you wish,” he replied with a small smirk as he turned back to continue his tallying. “You seem to be extremely stubborn about this anyway.”

A hint of a smirk curled Artoria’s own lips. “Oh?” she asked. “I thought stubborn women were your type, Shirou. Especially considering Rin Tohsaka.” Emiya’s jaw dropped a bit at Artoria’s tease, then he couldn’t help himself – a bark of genuine laughter escaped his mouth before he could stop it, joined by the Saber’s own chuckles in turn.

Stubborn women indeed.

-----------

Tiny steps pattered down the halls of Chaldea, unbeknownst to anyone. The corridors were deserted, as nobody really had reasons to traverse them overall. This was a far wing of Chaldea, filled with various miscellaneous rooms. A robot rolled by, scrubbing the hallways as it went. Maintenance of even deserted hallways is still within its routine functions, after all. It neither acknowledged nor even noticed the sole wanderer of the hallways, rolling by peacefully with barely a sound.

After all, as adorable as Fou was, he was rather hard to notice when he didn’t wish to be noticed.

Since this morning he had been cooped up in Mash’s room. He had been happily napping on her bed in her scent, but she had taken her time coming back overall. Something to do with the new Master? Deciding to stretch his legs, he left her room to wander around.

He thought about finding that catlike being – he seemed to instinctively know about Fou and that drove him to absolute terror. Tormenting and scaring him had been a fun little pastime for him whenever they encountered each other, but he decided not to push his luck. He didn’t want the being to figure out who or what he was ultimately. All he was currently lacking was knowledge, and once the catlike being had that, he’d quickly put two and two together. Cats were intelligent like that.

That and Mash might get angry with him. He’d rather not deprive himself of that particular source of comfort.

As he passed by a door, he noticed a presence within. Odd. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. No one really had a reason to come by, after all. It wasn’t anything strange or hostile though, which left him wondering what it was. Curiosity getting the better of him, he walked up to the door and began pawing at it on hind legs, barking at it.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Ritsu looked out, blinking. She looked down the hallways to see who it was, then felt a presence brush up against her shins. Looking down, her eyes widened as she saw Fou. “Hey there, little guy!” she cooed, grinning as she scooped up the little creature. “Haven’t seen you in forever! Did you miss me? Rare to not see you without Mash!”

Fou blinked up at the cheerful Master before snuggling into her chest. “Aww, missed you too, little buddy,” Ritsu chuckled. “Welp, so long as you’re here, I guess you can keep me company for a bit.” She closed the door, turning around and sitting back down, allowing Fou to easily look around and see where they were.

It was a storage room, filled with boxes of items. A few of them had been opened by hand, though there was a roll of duct tape and scissors nearby to reseal them as necessary. Small, random items were scattered around where Ritsu was sitting without any particular reason.

“Fou, fou?” he barked, looking up at the Master quizzically.

Ritsu blinked, then chuckled again. “Oh, not much,” she replied lightly, looking around her. “Just… visiting some old memories, I guess. This is where they’re keeping the items of… of those that didn’t make it from the bombing.” She picked up Fou again and gently hugged him to her chest as she looked around, her eyes starting to blur a bit.

She picked up a small pocket watch. “This one was David’s,” she murmured to Fou, rolling it in her hands. “He was always such a fraidy cat – literally me popping up to say ‘hi’ to him got him jumping into the air. I think he nearly hit his head on the ceiling once.”

The girl chuckled at the memory. “He always got so angry with me afterward. Then we got to talking about mecha stuff. I still have his copy of Armored Core. Was just about to beat it too. Game’s hard, though.”

Putting the watch down, she picked up a lighter. “And this one was Amanda’s,” she explained. “Apparently, she had a pretty bad smoking habit before she got hired for Chaldea. She kicked the habit with Roman’s help. She was a whiz though – pretty sure a good part of Chaldea’s UIs were her work. I tried to learn from her but her lessons flew over my head at Mach 20.”

Fou tilted his head at the lighter before reaching over to bat at it with his paws – and nearly fell over when Ritsu yanked it away. “Come on, Fou,” she chided though unable to keep the bit of laughter out of her voice. “A little respect for people’s belongings would ya? Even if they’re not here to give it!”

She paused at her own words. “Es… especially when they’re not here to give it,” she whispered, putting down the lighter and hugging her knees to herself, pulling in Fou closer. “What am I doing here, Fou? Here I am just… rummaging through their belongings like some sort of rat. Holed up in a storage room in some empty corner of Chaldea. The Phantom Thieves are here and humanity’s all but incinerated.”

Ritsu let out a mirthless laugh as she slid a hand over her own eyes. “I can’t tell if this is a dream or a nightmare,” she muttered. “I pinched my cheeks a thousand times until they were sore as hell. One moment I was in the Coffin and the next, I was in the medbay, with Roman telling me that… that so many people are gone. I mean, I wasn’t close to them, but still they were mostly good people. And…”

The girl looked around her. The small belongings of those passed scattered about. She hadn’t been friends with everyone – that was impossible – but she knew many of them by name. Their jobs, routines, a few interesting stories or hobbies they shared, an interest she garnered and they were happy to teach or speak to her about. She smiled and laughed when they greeted her, and they returned it. With each item she saw, she could see their faces and hear their voices as if it was just yesterday.

And…

She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Wodime. Ophelia. Peperoncino. Kadoc. Hinako. Daybit. Even that dillweed Beryl. The Masters that comprised Team A – the most promising team of Magi selected to handle the singularities. She had been jumping for joy when the new director had added her to their team at the last minute, and they welcomed her gladly. The Singularities were a huge deal, but with such a collection of brawn and brains, they were definitely going to succeed no matter what.

But now, they were still confined to their Coffins. They tried everything but Ritsu had been the only one undamaged enough to come out of her coma. The others were still stuck there in some medical limbo, and frankly she had no idea whether it was more merciful to cut them off or hold on for a tiny sliver of hope they could still be saved.

“Fou, fou?” She looked up as Fou stood on his hind legs, gently licking the tears off her face and quietly yipping. The girl blinked in surprise before laughing again, wrapping her arms around the fluffy little creature.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Fou,” Ritsu replied with a grin despite her tears. “I can’t exactly hide away and cry forever. The Phantom Thieves are here – I gotta show them my stuff after all. And even if the rest of Team A aren’t here, I’ll be their sole representative – I’ll make sure to make them proud. And everyone else too who couldn’t see us off. Yeah…”

She relaxed back against a box, looking up and around the room at everyone else’s belongings. “Just… just for now,” she whispered, gently petting Fou. “For now, just let me cry a bit. Need to get this out of the way. Then I’ll be the cheerful Ritsuka Fujimaru once more. I’ll be up and at ‘em in a bit. Just give me a little bit longer.” Ritsu closed her eyes as tears rolled down her face once more.

A solitary, grieving girl, amidst belongings of those who had passed and would never be able to see her off. 

Chapter Text

Ritsu bounced on her feet in the summoning room, barely able to contain her giddiness. After all the events from before, she was about to summon her own Servant! She already noted that Chaldea had far more Servants than they were supposed to – five Servants and an incarnated being – but frankly, given there was no one else and the fate of humanity was at stake, she had already agreed with their decision to summon more. They needed every advantage they could get.

Besides, the more the merrier! She couldn’t help but stare in awe at the various Servants – there was the noble and regal Saber, the cool yet oddly maternal Archer, the aloof Rider, the confident and battle-ready Cú Chulainn, and perky, arrogant Elizabeth (was that really THE Elizabeth Bathory?), and a… doppelganger of Jeanne d’Arc?

Okay, how the heck did that work? She got the rundown from everyone on how that came about but… how the heck? Well, they got a cool, brooding Servant – or person or whatever. That’s a solid A in her book.

Mash had set her shield up in the middle of the platform, the circuits lighting up. She glanced at her command seals on her right hand. Beside her were Ren and Morgana, ready to summon as well. At the door were Saber and Cú Chulainn, the Servants who would be guarding them if they summoned a hostile Servant by chance. All of them were calm and collected, which was fair considering they had done this before.

Honestly, she should take a page from their book but how could she?! She was about to summon her own being from history and mythology to their side to fight for humanity, and the Phantom Thieves were right beside her! She was their peer now! If the situation wasn’t so deathly serious, she’d still be squeeing the entire day at just how awesome this whole situation was! As it was, she already squeed for half a day. She should probably calm down now.

Yep.

Any second now…

…

Nope. Not happening.

“Wanna start us off, Ritsu?” Ren asked, glancing over at her with a smile. Although he knew how to read people well, it didn’t take a social expert to see that she was excited beyond belief. He was reminded of Futaba whenever a new game was just released, or when there was a particular computer part that had her almost literally drooling before she turned around and started explaining at top speed why they were so great. Even their shade of orange hair was extremely similar…

No. He brushed away the thoughts. Not now.

Ritsu’s eyes, in the meantime, widened as her grin broadened. Then she stopped herself and cleared her throat, trying to still herself. “Er, yes, I can do that,” she replied as calmly as she could, doing everything she could to withstand her enthusiasm – and fooling literally no one, to their amusement.

She stepped up, taking a deep breath. It was a momentous occasion for her. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, staring and judging patiently. A modicum of nervousness crept up her body but she pushed it down. This was her big moment and she wasn’t about to make herself look like a fool in front of the Phantom Thieves.

The girl raised her hand and began the incantation.

“Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat five times, but destroy each when filled.”

“A base of silver and steel.

A foundation of stone and the Archduke of Contracts.

And my ancestor, my great master, Schweinorg.”

The words of the Fate summoning ritual. It was practically one of the first things she was made to memorize when she first arrived at Chaldea as a Master candidate. It felt like a jumble of weird words and grammar which threw off memorization considerably, but she learned it well enough. She focused, shoving aside her audience and the fact the Phantom Thieves were there. She couldn’t afford to lose concentration.

“A wall to block the falling wind.

The gates of all four directions close.

From the Crown, come forth and follow the forked road to the Kingdom.”

The shield lit up as a magic circle appeared, separating and floating above it as the air around it started picking up, buffering everyone within the room. She could feel the sheer amount of power that was emanating from the circle, sending shivers down her back. Once or twice she almost bit her tongue from the sheer amazement at what she was witnessing, but she managed to rein herself in.

“I hereby propose: My will shall create thy body, and thy sword shall create my fate.

Abiding by the summons of the Holy Grail, if thou dost accede to this will and reason, answer me!

I hereby swear. I will be all that is good in the eternal world. I will be the disposer of evil in the eternal world.”

As she recalled, there was an optional phrase she could’ve added here if she wanted to guarantee a Berserker summon. They were immensely strong, but at expense of their mental acuity and their skills. However, she didn’t want to use that unless she had to. Berserkers by nature were hard to control, if she remembered her lessons correctly, and great care should be taken in being a Master to one.

That being said, it was agreed she would probably summon a Berserker back in Team A to make up for her lackluster ability as a magus. But she wasn’t given the order here so to hell with that!

“Thou, clad with the Great Trinity, come forth from the circle of restraint.

Guardian of the Heavenly Scales!”

The circle immediately flashed with a great light, obscuring everyone’s vision as mist filled the room. The light dwindled away gradually, revealing a figure standing on the platform. A girl about their age in a red dress, with the largest hat Ritsu swore she had ever seen. Cheerful blue eyes with platinum blonde hair with a cheer expression. The Servant enthusiastically waved at all of them.

“Bonjour!” she chirped out cheerfully. “I am Marie Antoinette, Rider class! I am here to help you save humanity! Vive la France!”

Ritsu blinked in surprise. While she was a bit more prepared for Servants to not be like recorded history (King Arthur was a girl. What in the actual heck.), she thought Marie Antoinette would be more aloof, maybe a bit more arrogant or pompous, acting like an actual queen. She hadn’t expected her to be so… cheerful and energetic.

Welp, no sense questioning it now! “Greetings, your majesty!” she greeted cheerfully in kind. “Welcome to Chaldea! I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru, one of the three Masters here, but just call me Ritsu! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Marie clapped her hands together. “Tres bièn! Such a respectful girl!” she remarked cheerfully. “Ah, but please, call me Marie. My time as queen has long since passed after all. I am delighted to work and fight alongside you!” So saying, she glided over to Ritsu, taking the Master’s shoulders, and giving her an air kiss on either side of the cheek – a greeting that was enthusiastically returned in kind by Ritsu.

After all, it’s not every day one did a traditional French greeting with the queen herself, and one who was such a cute girl at that!

The Rider looked over and saw Ren and Morgana watching them. “Ah, but I see familiar faces here!” she exclaimed. “Ren Amamiya! Morgana! I trust your time in Orleans was most productive? And how fare you, Saber? Lancer?”

Saber smiled. “We are quite well, thank you,” she replied. “In no small part due to your and Mozart’s valor. I welcome you to Chaldea as well.”

Cú Chulainn grinned in turn. “Sounds like I missed a helluva battle, but I’m not gonna complain,” he commented. “Good to have you here! Just call me Cú, though – we have another Lancer around here so calling me Lancer will make things confusing.”

Ren and Morgana were still gaping. Honestly, they hadn’t expected to see her again so quickly. The last time they saw her was back in the doppelganger’s Palace. Morgana especially remembered distinctly her and Mozart wheeling about to face down the cognitive Satan, knowing full well it would cost them their lives. A lump formed in his throat as he struggled to speak and apologize, though no words would issue out.

Marie looked at the two Masters and blinked with surprise. “Oh? What’s the matter, mes amours?” she asked, concerned. “This is a time of reunion – it should be a happy one, non? Yet you look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

The mouths of the two moved up and down, trying to express words they deeply wanted to say, yet it kept getting caught in their throats. This was a friend of theirs who had died under their watch, and even though she was brought back

But now wasn’t the time for it. They could apologize later. For now, they had to keep their composure.

“Bah, it was just an unexpected surprise, after all!” Morgana replied, grinning up at her. “It’s good to see you, Rider! We’ll be counting on you more than ever!”

“What Morgana said,” Ren replied with his trademark smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Welcome to Chaldea, your majesty!”

Marie smiled beatifically. “My, such a warm greeting!” she chirped, clapping her hands together. “Very well! It is not much, but I shall do my very utmost to help! But, ah, do call me Marie – I’m no longer a queen, after all. This is well after my time – I’m just simple Marie Antoinette!”

The Masters blinked in surprise, then grinned. “Works for us,” Ritsu piped up. “We already have another Rider here so calling you Rider would be way too confusing!”

Somewhere in the library, Medusa sneezed.

Marie grinned. “What adorable Masters I have,” she cooed as she scooped up Morgana, cradling him while giving him a kiss on the top of his head. “Our time together shall be most wonderful! Tres Bièn!” Her lighthearted demeanor was infectious, and before long everyone was smiling in amusement. The queen of France seemed to have that kind of aura around her.

Morgana looked up at Marie aghast at being picked up and kissed. “Wha-wha – I told you that was specifically reserved for Lady Ann!” he screeched, holding his forehead.

The Rider gave a bright grin in response. “I apologize,” she replied, only sounding slightly apologetic. “However, you do have me curious as this Lady Ann. Perhaps we should settle down for a cup of tea and you may tell us all about it.” Ren, Morgana, and Ritsu all felt chills down their spine as Marie set the catlike Master down – and Ritsu herself was deeply curious as well. Perhaps she could be a fly on the wall for that particular discussion…

Finally, she turned to Ren. A smile curled her lips – one with a combination of coy and mischievousness. She glided forward and, before anyone could do anything, she leaned forward and kissed him fully on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tender embrace. Ren’s eyes shot wide open in full surprise, his arms frozen as if torn between returning her embrace or pushing her away. Morgana and Ritsu’s mouths just dropped as Saber raised an eyebrow and Cú Chulainn began laughing uproariously.

Breaking off the kiss, she smiled up at him. “And my Master is such a marvelous man,” she purred with a giggle. “I have no doubt you will be one of the most magnificent Masters any Servant would wish to have.” Ren’s mouth worked, trying to form any word at all, and failing miserably. In contrast, his mind was running a million miles an hour – and coming to absolutely no conclusion.

She released him and glanced at the other two Masters. “Ah, but where are my manners?” she gasped. “I’m sure you have more summonings to do! Don’t mind me, I’ll be right over here.” With that, she made her way to stand beside Saber, drawing amused gazes from the two Servants.

Ren and Morgana could only just stare at her before looking at each other. The former felt eyes drilling into him and slowly turned – and saw Ritsu staring straight at him. She was grinning. One that stretched from ear to ear. A combination of fierce curiosity and mischievousness. Suddenly, he realized the day was only just beginning for him.

He could only sigh.

Next, it was Morgana’s turn. Normally, the image of a little cat mascot invoking the summoning ritual would normally have gotten a few giggles out of her, but one, the Servant summoning ritual was just far too epic to really laugh at. And two, Morgana was a Phantom Thief. There’s no way in hell she could laugh at him for that! Both he and Ren were far more awesome than she could ever comprehend!

… it was still kind of funny though.

Once more, the geyser of mana filled the room with a bright light, blinding everyone in the vicinity. When the light dwindled down, a new figure stepped forth: A tall, powerfully built man with wild, long silver hair. Although he wore spiked armor, he wore no breastplate – or even a shirt, leaving him bare-chested and exposing his front, revealing glowing green glyphs.

Frankly, not a bad looker in Ritsu’s opinion, but he was a bit more muscular than she liked. Not her cup of tea. At the very least, he looked very reliable – scratch that, completely reliable judging by how Ren and Morgana’s faces immediately lit up upon seeing him.

“I am Siegfried, Saber class Servant,” the man announced, bowing slightly. “I apologize if you were hoping for someone else, but if you would have me, then I dedicate my sword and life to your cause.”

“Jeez, stiff as always, Siegfried,” Morgana replied with a grin. “Of course we’d be happy to have you! Welcome to Chaldea!”

Siegfried looked down at Morgana (a considerable feat given their sheer size difference) and smiled. “Thank you, Master Morgana,” he replied calmly. Then he frowned slightly. “But should you not refer to me by my moniker? It would be unwise for someone knowledgeable about my myth to know about my weakness, after all.”

Ah, right. Ren remembered the legend from his studies. Siegfried bathed in the blood of a dragon and drank it after he slew one, which rendered him invulnerable. However, a leaf covered one spot on his back as he bathed, rendering that spot the place where he could ultimately be killed.

Honestly, he always wondered why he didn’t just cover that spot in dragon’s blood – it wasn’t exactly like the blood dried out that quickly, especially in such large quantities. But legends had a funny way of working like that, and he wasn’t about to question it. Besides, he certainly had heard of far weirder things in myths and legends that common sense would poke enormous holes in.

More importantly, he certainly remembered Siegfried as one of his Personas. Now that Siegfried was contracted as their Servant, would he be linked to his Siegfried Persona in turn? What changes would be made to it? He would have to consult with Igor, Lavenza, and Olga about it on the next Velvet Room visit. But in the meantime…

“Well, we can’t keep calling you Saber,” Ren pointed out as he gestured over to Artoria. “Things are going to get confusing otherwise. Do you mind if we call you Siegfried, at least while we’re in Chaldea? You’re with friends and allies here, so you don’t need to worry about someone using your identity to take you out or something.”

Siegfried frowned slightly. “It is not my safety that I am worried about, Master, but yours,” he gently admonished in turn before looking about. Taking in the people around him, he slowly relaxed. “Nevertheless, I see your wisdom,” he admitted. He smiled at Ren once more. “Very well. Address me as Siegfried if it pleases you, Master. Once more, I pledge my sword to you and your will.”

Ren nodded before looking over to their original Saber. “We never got a chance to ask, but what would you prefer to be called?” he asked in curiosity. “Since you were here first, you got first dibs on the moniker. Unless you want to be called something else?”

Saber blinked in surprise at the question before frowning in thought. Then she met Ren’s eyes with a smile. “If that is the case, call me Artoria, Masters,” she replied confidently. “All of you have earned my trust, as warriors, commanders, and Masters. It is only right you address me as your peer, and I you in turn.”

Ren and Morgana grinned brightly, while Ritsu was left blinking in surprise. “Er, am I included in that too?” she asked, pointing to herself. “I mean, you haven’t seen me in action yet so I’m not sure if I qualify for that kind of trust. Pretty hefty, if you ask me.”

“The fact you acknowledge my trust is a responsibility says more than you might expect, Ritsuka,” Artoria responded kindly. “I have no doubt you will be a major asset in the battles to come. I look forward to working with you.”

Ritsu once more blinked and grinned broadly, only barely holding herself back from squeeing yet again. On a first name basis with freaking King Arthur herself? Her time here was just getting better and better! So many heroes including her personal ones! But she restrained herself – just barely. There was still one more summoning to do, after all.

Marie happily greeted Siegfried as the dragonslayer stood beside her, him greeting her cordially in turn. Meanwhile, Ren stepped up to the summoning platform and began reciting the ritual himself. Once more, bright lights began whirling all around the room, orbs of mana orbiting until they converged, creating a fountain of power.

As the light dwindled for the last time today, a new figure stepped forth. A young woman, someone shorter than Ren and around the same height as Ritsu. She had short blonde hair and wore a black cloth while wearing greaves and gauntlets as her armor. Adorned on her head was a small headpiece as her blue eyes shone.

“I am Servant Ruler,” the girl declared. “Jeanne d’Arc. I come to aid you in your time of greatest trial and shall stand resolutely beside you until the end.”

Ren grinned in return. “Glad to hear that, Jeanne,” he replied gratefully. “Welcome to Chaldea!”

The saint smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Ren Amamiya,” she replied. “It is my honor to fight with you alongside so many famous-“ Her words were interrupted as Ritsu immediately sprang up right beside her, her eyes practically shimmering with enthusiasm. “Um, greetings,” she said hesitantly, mildly nonplussed. She glanced at Ritsu’s hand and saw command seals on her as well. “I take it you are a Master as well?”

The girl blinked, then nodded. “Yes, yes, I’m your Master,” she replied quickly, brushing the question off. “But are you Jeanne d’Arc? The Maid of Orleans?! The one who single-handedly rallied the French to fight off the English?! I’m a huge fan of yours! Oh my god can I shake your hand?!”

Jeanne could only give a confused glance at Ren and Morgana. Both of the Masters shrugged helplessly. “She does that,” Ren commented with a minor wince. “You’ll get used to it sooner or later.”

Ritsu immediately rounded on Ren. “Oh?” she asked, a predatory smile widening on her face. “Are you perhaps jealous that I’m fangirling over someone else? Oh no worries, oh dear leader of the Phantom Thieves – you’re not out of my sight just yet.” So saying, she reached over and booped Ren on the nose, once more shocking him into silence. Just when he thought he had a good bead on her, she immediately did something else to catch him by surprise.

“Wait, is Ren particularly well known?” Marie asked, stepping forward while blinking owlishly. “I must admit, the Throne only provides so much information about the time period we are summoned in – I’m not caught up on the latest trends.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she stared at Marie. An ear-to-ear grin split her face once more. “Oh, my dearest Servant, my gentle Rider,” Ritsu cooed. “Allow me to regale you with the tales of the infamous Phantom Thieves – bringers of justice, shadows in the night and mind and most of all –“ She winked over at Ren. “One of the most awesome men I’ve ever had the honor to meet.”

“Oh, I already know the latter quite well,” Marie giggled. “But do tell, do tell, mi amour. I wish to know all about them!” For a queen, gossip was her bread and butter – whether in the ballroom or the women’s quarters, it was all the same. And Chaldea would prove to be no different for her. And before long, Ritsu and Marie were chittering away excitedly over Ren and Morgana’s deeds.

Meanwhile the Masters looked about helplessly. Artoria looked amused, Siegfried gave an apologetic shrug, Cú Chulainn was laughing his head off, and Jeanne looked extraordinarily confused by it all. Everyone in the room aside from the two girls could only think one thing:

Oh god, there’s two of them.

“Well, now that we’re finished with summoning,” Morgana spoke up, trying to broach the topic and be heard over the girls’ chatter. “We’ll give you the grand tour of Chaldea, then set you up with your rooms! Right this way guys! You too, Ritsu!”

With that, they all exited the room, Ritsu and Marie still chatting excitedly to each other about the Phantom Thieves’ exploits while hanging close to Ren, to his mild discomfort. Unseen by everyone was Roman and Da Vinci standing by, the latter sipping tea as they watched and listened to the motley crew passing by. The doctor could only sigh. The Caster placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

Interesting days were ahead.

—-------

Joan rubbed her sore eyes as she set aside another book, adding it to yet another stack that surrounded her on the table. The library was quiet and unoccupied. Even its usual occupant, Medusa, was out for the time being. Staff members rarely frequented the library and even when they did, they gave her a wide berth or tried to ignore her – while sneaking wary glances at her. Well, that was to be expected. Just a few days ago, she had been trying to kill Ren and Morgana, after all.

She had been here almost day in, day out ever since that Rider helped her out with that one book, starting with the history of the Hundred Years War. Since then, she had been on a bit of a reading binge, learning more and more about different facets and branching from there: Military tactics and battles, logistics, even one or two fairy tales that had apparently been popular. The evidence of her curiosity was laid out on the table.

At the end of it all, she hadn’t been sure what to think about herself. The original Jeanne d’Arc of history had been rather hot-blooded, advocating a ‘rush them’ style of attacking with minimal tactics. If God was on their side, then they should’ve won no matter what, right? What was insane was that her ‘tactics’ up to a point actually worked. Besides the sheer zealotry, it honestly reminded her a lot of herself in terms of battle tactics: Rush things with wyverns and Servants. Didn’t work? Send more.

Joan had to laugh bitterly. To think, all she was missing was God’s will for a similar success. The irony of that was so thick she could cut it with her sword.

She relaxed against her seat with a sigh. The robots would come in and put the books back when they could. There hadn’t been any books that particularly drew her eye. It was certainly odd though – all these records and tales of battles and slaughter, not just from her leading armies but from countless other soldiers, warriors, and generals. Even her second in command, Gilles de Rais, had undoubtedly bloodied his sword in combat no small number of times.

The change wrought by her new Masters was strange, to say the least. No longer was she consumed by the insane rage that the Caster Gilles de Rais implanted into her. Her mentality was more… ordinary. To the point where knowing she had killed so many people and brought so much pain made her genuinely sick to her stomach.

And there was still the fact that she was a facsimile of a pure saint. One who she knew would give her another chance with an outstretched hand if she could. Quite a difference from what she read. It had only been a few days but already, she was assailed with far harder questions than she ever had back in Orleans.

Who was she, really? And what did she want?

She had to sigh. “Why am I even doing this?” Joan muttered to herself, drawing a hand over her eyes.

“And here would be the library – Oh. Joan. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

The Lancer Servant blinked as she looked up – and her eyes widened. There were the two – no, three Masters. She heard that they had a new one: A rather excitable girl all things considered. Chaldea’s Saber and Lancer Servants: Artoria Pendragon and Cú Chulainn (how in the hell did she ever expect to succeed when those two showed up?). But they weren’t what caught her attention.

With the group were three more Servants, ones she immediately recognized: Marie Antoinette, the last queen of France before she was executed during the French Revolution. Siegfried, the infamous dragonslayer who made himself invincible with dragon’s blood and was ultimately brought low not by war and conflict, but internal intrigue and drama.

And finally, the Maid of Orleans, the saint who led France against the English… and was burned at the stake for being falsely accused as a witch. And most importantly, she was her template, who Gilles de Rais wanted her to be: Jeanne d’Arc.

Ren and Morgana were utterly surprised to find Joan here – they had expected Rider at most. Ritsu was quickly looking between Jeanne and Joan so fast her orange hair was whipping about. She quickly saw both the similarities and differences between the two Servants but even she knew that, as excited and giddy as she was, it wasn’t the time or place to start talking about it.

The reaction of the new Servants was more pronounced. Siegfried immediately summoned Balmung to his hand while Marie raised her hands, looking pale but more than ready. Joan tensed up, but didn’t draw her blade nor summoned her flag. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape route. Unfortunately, as an incarnated Servant, she couldn’t enter spiritual mode but against Servants, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Until Jeanne raised her hand in front of them. “Stop,” she commanded gently. “If she is here as well, then that means she is no enemy of Chaldea. Nor do I sense any hostile intent from her.” The saint turned to look at Joan and smiled. “Is that not correct?” she asked rhetorically.

Joan, Siegfried, and Marie blinked in surprise as they processed Jeanne’s words. Slowly, they relaxed as Balmung vanished from Siegfried’s hands. The Ruler was right – Joan was in no mood to fight, even if they saw her as enemies. And the other two quickly took note of the situation – specifically the large pile of books sitting on the table where she had been sitting.

Ritsu quickly looked between Jeanne and Joan once more, then a proverbial lightbulb went off in her head. “Welp, looks like you’re busy so guess we shouldn’t disturb you!” she loudly declared. “We’ll leave you be for now and come back to this part of the tour later! Come on guys, out out out, shoo, shoo!” With that she began bodily shoving the group out, starting with Ren and Cu as they were the closest within reach. The two males could only protest as they were bodily shoved out by the energetic girl.

Jeanne could only blink flabbergasted before starting to follow – only to have the library door shut in her face by Ritsu once everyone else was out. “What? No, we’re not missing Jeanne!” Ritsu’s muffled lie came through from the other side. “Come on, Chaldea’s a big place so we better get going! Lead the way Ren!”

“Hey, don’t just pick me up like that – ow!” squawked Morgana as the voices and footsteps faded away after a second pause.

Soon, an awkward silence filled the air of the library. Jeanne and Joan were the only ones left in there. The former was twiddling her fingers, trying to find a way to start a conversation while the latter was pointedly looking away. She would honestly leave right now if she could, but the saint was right in the way of the door, and she didn’t want to push right past her to do so.

Jeanne looked over at the table, desperate for a conversation topic. “So, I can see you’ve been reading quite a bit,” she started hesitantly. “I could never get into reading – of course, it would be difficult for me to read since books were pretty rare when I was alive. I was never even taught to read or write. You would think someone leading an army would learn such a skill. So, um…” She tapered off and continued to twiddle her fingers.

Joan stared at the saint as she talked. This was who she was based off of? The saint was a larger-than-life figure who inspired men even when they were on the edge of defeat, yet here she was fumbling words trying to start a conversation. Was Jeanne always this…mundane?

Then she remembered. Before everything, Jeanne was a simple farm girl who was simply given a divine mission from God – no more, no less. Had it not been for that, she would’ve just like everyone else.

For some reason, that conclusion made Joan feel a bit better about herself. And ironically, made it easier to talk.

The Lancer sighed aridly as she ran a hand through her hair. “You’d think those damn fools would make sure you learned to read in order to lead an army,” she grumbled. “But then, if you actually could read, you’d be even more of an annoyance to the higher ups than you already were. Ugh. Just as well, I guess.”

The Ruler blinked in surprise. “Oh? Did you have some memories of mine about that or…?” she inquired innocently.

“Hardly the case,” Joan scoffed. She held up one of the earlier books she read, detailing the politics around the Hundred Years War. “You were pretty popular with the soldiers and common folk, and less so with the generals and nobles,” she explained. “You were a massive cheerleader they could use to rally the forces around. The mission from God helped massively with that front. But if you were more capable of things like reading and math, you could’ve possibly been seen as a political threat.”

Joan noticed the shock on Jeanne’s face. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “If you’re wondering, it’s nothing against you. If it was another girl or guy in the same place, the same damn situation applies. Honestly, the more I read about this shit, the more I’m disgusted about people in general.” Her glare lessened as she stared at the books. “Maybe this bullshit is why Gilles went mad in the first place,” she muttered.

A soft giggle caught her attention. Looking over, Joan saw the saint laughing gently. “What’s so funny?” she asked suspiciously.

Jeanne giggled again, shaking her head. “Oh, I just hadn’t expected one who was created in my image to be so… well, studious,” she admitted. She walked forward, nodding at the books. “I could never sit still long enough to learn to read or write – it’s only thanks to the Throne that I can do so now. Though mathematics escape me still.”

She smiled over to the Lancer. “You were given a new life and are defining yourself by your own choices,” she commented. “Isn’t that nothing short of a miracle?”

The Lancer blinked, then looked away from how radiant Jeanne seemed at that point. “Ugh, you’re still that goody-two-shoes that legend keeps declaring you were,” she grumbled, albeit lacking much heat or malice. “I can’t help but feel there’s some sort of string attached with this new life. There’s a lot I have to do, a lot to make up for though. Can’t think about it too much.”

Jeanne nodded. “Sometimes, it’s best to take blessings as they come, however large or small,” she stated, smiling. “Also, what should I call you? I don’t think it would be fitting to call you Jeanne as well – if how you were in Orleans was any indication, you wouldn’t take to that kindly.”

Joan sighed irritably. “Just call me Joan,” she grumbled. “Not the most original, I know. It’s just a placeholder name for now until I can get my head on straight.”

The Ruler considered it, then nodded, smiling happily. “As you wish,” she replied cheerfully. “Joan it is!” She looked curiously over the books that Joan had been reading. “Perhaps you could tell me more about what you’ve been reading? Between your experiences and research, perhaps we might have a rather interesting conversation between us, no?”

That took Joan by surprise. Something here wasn’t adding up. “Why?” Joan asked.

The saint blinked in surprise. “Oh. I thought that a good conversation could-“

“Not that,” Joan immediately interrupted, dismissing the saint’s reply. “I was made into some sort of twisted doppelganger of yours, wasn’t I? I butchered everyone in France, innocent and sinner alike, whether they were of high status or mere peasants. I spat and cursed your and God’s name. I still don’t consider the latter very kindly, to be honest with you.”

She looked up at Jeanne. “You have every right to want absolutely nothing to do with me, so what gives? What’s your plan here?”

Jeanne stared at her with an oddly blank expression. “Do you regret all you’ve done?” she asked softly. “Do you wish to make amends?”

Joan blinked in surprise at the question. “I-“ she started, then she sighed. “Of fucking course I do,” she growled, looking away. “I’m not sure how, but frankly helping everyone else here save humanity is a start, I guess. Probably won’t make me any less of a monster I am now, but I gotta try anyway. Not about to just sit on my hands and mope all day about it.”

The Ruler smiled as she clasped her hands and closed her eyes. “Then at the very least, I forgive you,” she said gently. “I hold no grudge for all you’ve done, especially as you’ve set your eyes towards atonement. You may not find forgiveness from everyone, but perhaps you shall in time be forgiven in His eyes, when He sees the goodness in your heart.”

Jeanne opened her eyes and beamed at Joan. “I know you do not put much stock in God, but perhaps that can be your first step?” she suggested. “After all, to err is to be human. To forgive, divine.”

“I’m pretty sure massacring and killing a lot of people with wyverns, Servants, and my own blade is a bit more than just erring,” Joan deadpanned.

Jeanne chuckled. “Perhaps,” she admitted. “Yet you have been granted a miracle nevertheless. If that’s not proof His gaze is still on you and you may have His forgiveness still, I don’t know what is.”

Joan blinked again, then sighed, her posture sagging as she gave up any form of further argument. “You are beyond annoying, you know that?” she grumbled.

The saint chuckled again. “Should I keep a running tally?” she asked mischievously. “Now, shall we discuss those books of yours?”

Once more, Joan could only sigh and gestured to the chair beside her. “Take a seat,” she said wearily. “I get the feeling we’ll be here a while.”

Jeanne grinned as she practically hopped into her seat. The two would be discussing for quite some time.

—-------

Beyond time and space, they watched.

Through the eyes of the unwitting Servant, they observed. They collected data. They kept track of conversations and presences. Knowledge that Chaldea possessed, and information they did not. It was agonizingly limited, being able to only perceive things through one set of limited senses, but information was information nevertheless.

The thoughts of the Servant were laughable as well. Purpose? Meaning? Atonement? Simple mortal concepts, to be embraced once in a lifetime at most and eternally forgotten. A life like that was hardly worth living. Just like every other human’s life. So many petty squabbles that ended up in bloodshed. So much foolishness that ended in pain, suffering, and misery. Humanity in general was nothing more than a squalor of stupidity and futility.

That was why their plan would – must – succeed. They could fight all they wished, but in the end, what they strove for would be the best for them. Humanity could not be trusted with themselves.

However, they would keep observing. Learning. Information was always key to staying one step ahead. The presence of the Saint – the original template their seed was based off of – was an intriguing development, but hardly consequential. Still, it was a factor that they would bear in mind. There was a new Master, but her presence was quickly discarded as a non-factor. Another weak human didn’t factor into the equation at this point.

The current point of interest was the young human male Master. They could not solidify their thoughts about the Master. A lingering sense of… familiarity? No. Similarity? No. Kinship? Absurd. Further observation was acquired.

All data currently judged inconsequential. Orobas would continue to monitor and gather information.

For the World, and for humanity.

Chapter Text

“You are irritated.”

Olga glanced over to Lavenza who was staring at her intently. She turned back to the Compendium, trying to memorize and learn the various different traits of the personas. “Of course I’m irritated,” she muttered. “Every second I’m unable to memorize everything is another second I’m useless here. It shouldn’t be taking this long – my regular magecraft studies are more challenging for the most part. I should have this by heart by now.”

“Even if your past studies were more strenuous, learning to properly manage personas is not an easy undertaking,” Lavenza gently admonished. They were in a separate section of the Velvet Room. Though it had the same circular design with jail cells, Igor wasn’t within, choosing to await Ren in the main room proper. There was still a desk in the middle, where Olga was sitting and studying. At Olga’s mental command, the cells would flash in a persona for her to observe and study before being dismissed.

“You also seem particularly agitated after witnessing the new Servants that have been summoned,” the girl noted. She stepped forward and rested a gentle arm on Olga’s arm. “Is there something about their presence that disturbs you so? They are of noble heart and spirit – I do not doubt their loyalty to the Trickster, nor their strength.”

The older girl sighed, irritated. “Yes, I know,” she snapped, looking up at the ceiling as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Siegfried, the famed dragonslayer and near immortal thanks to dragon blood. Jeanne d’Arc, the one saint almost literally everyone knows thanks to her deeds in France. And Marie Antoinette. The… disgraced, overthrown queen of France? I’m fairly certain at this point that a lot of her ‘worse’ deeds were just misinterpreted or twisted into propaganda for the revolutionaries, but…”

She let out a frustrated growl. “How did she even become a heroic spirit in the first place?!” she fumed. “She didn’t do anything particularly noteworthy – she was just remembered as either a spoiled brat or simply a girl who was at the wrong time and wrong place! I don’t even think she or her family had any particular lineage of magecraft or mystery to them! I mean, if that’s the case then anyone famous could’ve been a heroic spirit, like a prime minister or-or some chancellor or-!”

“Please, calm yourself,” Lavenza interrupted, raising her voice slightly for emphasis. “You are normally not given to insulting or judging a person so openly – at least, ever since you regained consciousness within the Velvet Room. Normally you would also evaluate their positive aspects as well and keep as impartial judgement as possible. There is something else at play here. What do humans call this…” She lowered her head in thought, then her eyes lit up. “Ah, I believe they call this ‘jealousy’!”

Olga’s face immediately turned a deep shade of scarlet. “Wh-wh-wh-wh-WHAT?!” she squeaked. “Why would I be jealous of her?! She had a terrible fate and was horribly misunderstood and she might be a heroic spirit but I’m not even sure what the qualification of her of being one are! On what basis are you saying I’m jealous?! There is no logical reason for me to be jealous none wh-whatsoever!”

Lavenza shook her head. “They are symptoms I am familiar with after experiencing them myself,” she replied, smiling as she rested a hand on her own chest. “When you spoke so familiarly with the Trickster, I was beset by such feelings myself. Only after observing yours did I understand what it was.” She bowed politely to Olga. “I thank you for teaching me – albeit in a somewhat unorthodox manner,” she said. “

The former director blinked in surprise. “Er, you’re welcome I guess,” she replied, flustered, before her mind caught up as she blushed furiously once more. “Wait, that’s not the point here!” she yelled. “Why would I be jealous of Marie Antoinette?! I have no reason to be! She’s a Servant, sure, and I have my own issues with that but that doesn’t mean I’m jealous! She simply makes no sense!”

The Velvet Room attendant looked at Olga quizzically. “That is a strange matter, yet I feel as though that is not the main focus,” she mused, a hand on her chin as she thought. “I believe you first became agitated after witnessing Marie Antoinette kissing the Trickster – your startled scream gave both our master and me quite a fright. You have been disturbed since.” She tilted her head. “Is that the correct assumption?” she asked.

“Wh-wh-why would that be the correct assumption?!” Olga stammered, her blush becoming even more and more noticeable. “I was merely caught off guard by how forward the queen was! Yes, that’s it! She was married in life, wasn’t she? And royalty besides! There’s no reason for her to be so crass or scandalous like that! Someone of her position should be aware of her actions and… and…”

Olga ran out of breath as her mind scrambled a thousand miles to think of more reasons. Lavenza shook her head in disappointment. “They say that jealousy is an ugly emotion,” she murmured. “And I can see why. It brings out much of the worst in people. I must ask you to rein yourself in, Olga. Such unnecessary criticisms ill becomes you. Please, calm yourself so that you may be rational in your judgement about her once more.”

Then she stopped, blinking, and bowed. “I apologize for my bluntness and rudeness,” she said contritely. “It is a terrible habit of mine. I shall work to correct that in the future.” Then noticing Olga’s hesitance, she decided to voice another question. “Are you perhaps worried about Marie Antoinette stealing the Trickster’s affections?” she asked.

Once more, the former director spluttered, her face somehow turning even a deeper shade of red. She was stuttering so much that she couldn’t even form any words. Lavenza could only watch with fascination at her reaction. It was rare to see someone so flustered, especially compared to her calm and collected Trickster. Not even those that he met in his trials in the past had such an extreme reaction. How very interesting.

“You need not worry overmuch,” Lavenza reassured her, smiling. “It is only natural to be entranced by the Trickster. He is rather magnificent, after all. His quick thinking in your rescue as well as how he carried himself in Orleans was without a doubt marvelous.” Just the Fuyuki and Orleans singularities alone were far more harrying than anything he and Morgana had ever been through, after all. She had been nervous about him being able to overcome his trials – and immensely proud he had been able to.

“And if you are worried about other women, why not simply show your own affections as well?” she asked genuinely. “The Trickster is the expression of rebellion and freedom, after all. I’m sure his greatness can encompass many such connections at once – I do not doubt it is beyond his capabilities.”

That snapped Olga out of her flabbergasted silence. “WHAT?!?” she shrieked, her face now the hue of a ripe tomato. “What are you – are you implying – you can’t possibly be-!”

Lavenza suddenly turned as if something caught her attention. “Ah, it appears he has arrived,” she said, beaming. “Shall we go greet our Trickster once more?” Before Olga could respond, the girl happily spun on her heel and walked off, leaving Olga alone.

Olga could only stand there. Jealousy?! Not because she was a Servant but because she kissed Ren so blatantly and boldly in front of everyone?! And then Lavenza suggested that was not only okay but-but to also show her affection to him?! Because he could more than handle it?!? Was Lavenza suggesting what she thought she was suggesting?! And there was the whole matter of Lev and the world burning and all these Servants and singularities and personas and the cognitive texture and-

She buried her face in her hands and screamed. Loudly.

It did not help.

----------

Ren was silent as he observed those in the Velvet Room. Igor had his perpetual grin, yet he could tell from familiarity that the Master of the Velvet Room was happy to see him. Lavenza was smiling happily, eager to see him once more. That was normal as always. However, Olga was pointedly facing away from him, arms crossed, with a red face that contrasted heavily with her blue clothes.

“Did I miss something here?” Ren asked, blinking.

Olga immediately whirled about, glaring at him. “You did NOT miss anything, Amamiya,” she snapped. “And if you believe otherwise, you are quite mistaken. Your powers of observation need improvement if that is the case. It needs to be honed for the singularities ahead so that you can stay alive. So focus on what you need to do, Amamiya, and do not focus on frivolous pursuits!”

The sheer vehemence of Olga’s denial caught Ren off guard. He gave a confused look over to Igor and Lavenza. Neither of them gave any indication one way or another toward Olga’s outburst. He wasn’t sure precisely what he missed here but to be honest, perhaps it was better to not prod the sleeping dragon – or in this case, one who was steaming like a boiled lobster right now.

Switching topics, he looked over at Igor and Lavenza. “So, I’m guessing I’ve a new persona now?” he asked. Olga huffed and looked away, looking both relieved and peeved he decided to not address the topic any further.

Lavenza nodded. “Quite right, my Trickster,” she replied. “As you have already surmised, by making a contract with the Servant Siegfried, you have regained access to the Siegfried persona.” She opened the Compendium to show him. To Ren’s surprise, there were multiple pages solidified now instead of just only one new page.

With a wave of her hand, the Siegfried persona appeared.  He looked as he always did – a tall, blonde man with bronzed skin, dressed in a sleeveless scale mail tunic and a cap topped with a small horn. He wore a large round shield on his back. Instead of the regular longsword he normally wielded, however, the persona now held the same Balmung the Servant Siegfried held.

Ren remembered how Siegfried used Balmung. The massive torrent of energy engulfing Fafnir in a wave of blue power, unlocked from within the guard of the blade. If Cu Chulainn’s Gae Bolg drained a good amount of energy just from utilizing a simple (albeit reality warping) stab, then how much energy would Balmung use up, even within the Metaverse? It would be a death sentence, without a doubt. He glanced at the traits, and something caught his eye.

“Armor of Fafnir?” he murmured quietly as he read it. Then his eyes widened. Right – Siegfried bathed in blood that rendered him immune to harm. While the persona Siegfried normally came with a good amount of resistances – as well as immunity to physical blows – it seemed that the trait rendered him immune to everything except for psy attacks. Which made sense – it wasn’t like it could protect from a mental attack (Metaverse and Palaces notwithstanding).

While it seemed incredibly useful, his persona magecraft didn’t grant him any immunities, resistances, or weaknesses the personas themselves had. It would really only come into effect in the Metaverse, and given how the doppelganger’s Palace went, it’s very much possible that such power would be very much necessary before long.

Not to mention, it seemed that it could only protect him up to a certain (considerable) amount. What amount wasn’t exactly clear which made Ren wary. If he took an attack that went beyond what it could provide, he could risk seriously injuring himself as a result. He would have to test this out and know the limits first before he could seriously rely on it. The only question was where he could test it.

“Because of your connection to Siegfried,” Lavenza continued. “You also have access to the Fafnir persona.” With a wave of her hand another persona manifested. A vaguely draconic being completely made of metal, with an elongated head resembling a human skull. Unlike Siegfried, Ren didn’t notice any changes with the Fafnir persona compared to Siegfried. Still, having such a powerful persona at his call was still handy. “How come there aren’t any changes to Fafnir?” he asked curiously, looking over at Lavenza.

“While we can connect your personas to your Servants, it is still limited,” Igor explained. “Fafnir comes from the connection with Siegfried, but is not tied directly to you, my dear guest. Therefore, while we can summon the persona for you, it will not be granted any special modifications or powers. Nevertheless, I know you are wise and cunning enough to utilize this to your advantage how you will.”

Ren nodded as he pondered. He remembered seeing Fafnir while exploring the halls of Maruki’s laboratory Palace. Every fight with one was always tough as it had a lot of resistances and immunities, combined with packing a heck of a punch. He remembered the relief he felt when he was able to recruit one to his side. While it may pale in comparison to the connected personas like Cu Chulainn or Siegfried, it was a reassuring one to have at his side, nevertheless.

“Now, it seems the bonds you have forged have yielded a new persona,” Lavenza observed as she flipped to another solidified page. A new persona appeared: A young woman kneeling, clad in plate armor from the neck down. She held a sword up in front of her with her head bowed in piety. A cape flowed from behind her, white with edging of blue and gold: The flag of the French monarchy.

His eyes widened as he beheld the new persona. He never created or encountered this particular one in his previous adventures. This was something solely from his time in Chaldea, however brief it was. And even without looking at any information about the persona, he could immediately tell who this was. “Jeanne d’Arc,” he breathed. “The Maid of Orleans. She’s a persona too?”

“That is correct, my dear guest,” Igor affirmed. “Though the Velvet Room currently lacks the capability to create new personas, it can still manifest the strength you gain from your bonds. With your connection to the Velvet Room and your status as a Master giving you a connection to the Throne of Heroes, we are able to summon beings and personas you have never encountered until now. That being said, this is uncharted territory for us as well – even we will be unable to predict or tell who or what you can summon.”

“The cost of utilizing them you should be well aware of as well, my Trickster,” Lavenza added. “As you have already surmised, these personas are far heftier in their cost. While you are capable of much, careless use of them may easily result in openings you may not be able to afford, or even your death. It is very much a double-edged sword.”

“There is a saying among magi,” Olga supplied. The blush in her face was completely gone and her flustered, irritated expression was replaced by a far more serious demeanor. “’To walk the path of the magus is to walk with death.’ It is a dangerous path, one where death would be considered a mercy if something were to go wrong. There are great rewards, but sometimes even the greatest caution may not be enough.”

She nodded to the linked Servants. “I would be extremely wary of utilizing these personas as magecraft,” she said. “Your regular personas should do the job just fine, as you’ve seen. Reserve those for Palaces, where they are less of a toll on your energy and their strength is far more needed.”

After she finished with her advice, Olga sighed aridly. “The fact that you can even use essentially Servants and their noble phantasms on command still beggars the imagination, but at this point I’ve no right to complain,” she muttered as she massaged her temples. “Really, I’m not sure what to make of you, Amamiya. You are just an anomaly in so many different ways that it’s honestly staggering.”

“He is simply our magnificent Trickster,” Lavenza commented with a proud smile. “That alone is enough to know why he is capable of so much.”

Ren just chuckled as Olga sighed once more. The Servant-connected personas were exceptionally powerful overall, even exceeding many of the more powerful personas he already had.  Cu Chulainn. Siegfried. Jeanne d’Arc. It was clear that not every single Servant would have a corresponding persona, or vice versa, but just Cu Chulainn had been a massive boon to him already, let alone the others. If he had these personas for his past adventures, all the Palaces he went through would’ve been a breeze.

Then he remembered the grip of the Berserker’s gauntlet around his head, the cognitive Satan, the countless creatures Gilles de Rais had summoned, and that gigantic pillar Orobas. A cold chill crawled down his back. For his time in Chaldea, this power was necessary.

And that terrified him.

—-------

The next day came without much aplomb after the events of yesterday. The Servants had been set up with their own rooms as well after being given a tour of whatever few amenities Chaldea had left. For Ren and Morgana, it had been a rather sobering affair, seeing the sheer number of now unoccupied bedrooms they could give the Servants. To their surprise, even Ritsu was quiet about it. They would have to ask about that later.

Marie Antoinette was washing up in the shower. A single stall with glass walls in the middle of her room, certainly unlike the private bath she used to have in her castle. But quite honestly, it was more decadent than she expected. The water remained nice and hot no matter how long she stayed, and the soaps here smelled phenomenal. Modern times had certainly advanced quite a bit since her days as queen. No reason why she couldn’t indulge in a tiny bit of luxury for herself!

Suddenly, she heard a ring from within the room. Blinking in surprise, she quickly remembered that the rooms had a doorbell and screen. Thankfully the Throne provided knowledge of most modern conveniences so operating it wasn’t too tricky… theoretically.

“How does this work again…?” she muttered to herself as she tapped the screen. The camera winked on and showed… nothing. She blinked. Oh, was this that prank that had become popular among children? What was it called? ‘Ding-dong-ditch’? Was she subject to such a childish prank? Oh, how thrilling! Still, it wouldn’t do if she didn’t at least address whoever was there. “Hello?” she asked, making sure the audio was on.

Suddenly, Morgana bounced into view before descending from the camera’s view again.

“Sorry about that!” he called from below. “Are you busy right now? I’d like to talk to you!”

Marie blinked in surprise before smiling, even though Morgana wouldn’t be able to see her. “Oh, not at all, monsieur Morgana!” she chirped. She pressed a button to unlock the door. “Bienvenue!” she greeted warmly.

“Hey Marie- WHA!” Morgana squawked as he beheld her state of dress – or rather, her lack thereof. She was currently in nothing but a towel and still wet from the shower. Morgana immediately turned away, covering his eyes. “I thought you were decent!” he shouted as he did everything he could to suppress his embarrassment.

She blinked and looked down on herself, then giggled. “Ah, I’m sorry,” she said. “I was too excited to see you.” With a flash of light, she was dry once more as her clothes reappeared on her, sans her hat. Honestly, she wanted to have the experience of toweling herself off as well – such soft fabrics – but it couldn’t be helped at this point. “Do come in! I would offer you a cup of tea but I have only just set up here. My apologies for being such a poor host.”

“Er, that’s fine, you don’t need to worry about that,” Morgana stammered as he regained his composure, walking in. The bedroom looked just the same as Ren’s, which made sense – Servants didn’t seem to have much in terms of personal possessions unlike Ritsu. “Um, is there anything we can set you up with?” he asked, looking about. “Or anything we could do for you here?”

Marie blinked in surprise before chuckling. “Oh, I shall make do,” she replied cheerfully. “Whatever amenities I require, I shall either ask or find my own way – or make do without. This is hardly my castle after all. Besides, it is quite exquisite, being able to move about freely like this without the responsibility and dressings of royalty. It is very enjoyable.”

Morgana slowly nodded as he took in Marie. If anyone asked him whether Marie was a queen or not, he would be conflicted. On one hand, Marie certainly didn’t much like royalty with its attending arrogance or dominance. She felt far too free-spirited overall that he just couldn’t place her in a court or a throne.

On the other, she flitted about with a grace that he hadn’t seen in most people. Were she in Tokyo, he had little doubt she would quickly manifest an entire fan club around her. It was an extremely paradoxical nature. Honestly, as much as he liked Ann, even he would admit that she should take a few notes from Marie.

“Are you here to simply see me, monsieur Morgana?” Marie asked as she strolled back, sitting on the edge of her bed and motioning to the chair at the nearby desk. “Or was there something else you wish to speak to me about?”

The catlike being blinked as Marie simply smiled at him expectantly. His jaw worked up and down, trying to find the words. Then he decided to simply just go for it. Eschewing taking a seat, he immediately bowed to Marie. “I’m sorry, Marie,” he said. “I’m really, really sorry.”

That took the Rider off guard. “Goodness me!” she gasped. “You are already quite forgiven, but might I ask what you are apologizing for? As far as I know, you have not wronged me or those I have loved – and there are many that I do love. Please, raise your head and tell me!”

Morgana drew a shaky breath. “Back in… in the doppelganger’s Palace,” he elaborated slowly. “You and Mozart had to sacrifice yourself to draw away that cognitive Satan. I should’ve called for a retreat earlier or-or did something. Because of my call, you two had to die for it. It was my mistake completely, and I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to die.”

With that, he bowed his head again, barely restraining his tears. The contented expressions of Marie and Mozart before they rode off with Satan on their heels still haunted his dreams. He wasn’t above making mistakes – he learned long ago – but that mistake ended up in two people dying under his watch. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself for that. But at the very least, he could apologize for it.

There was a moment of silence. Marie slowly stood up, stepped toward Morgana, knelt down… and flicked Morgana right in the forehead. “Gah!” he yelped, holding his head.

“Punishment served and once more, you are forgiven, monsieur Morgana,” Marie stated happily. She smiled gently at him. “You made the best call you did, non? You and Ren succeeded in the end, and I see that it even brought the doppelganger here as an ally, just as Jeanne had wished. It’s what I believe one would call a mission success, so there is no reason to be sad.”

“But, even then-” Morgana began stammering.

Marie once more flicked him in the forehead. “I do believe I have made myself clear, monsieur Morgana,” she admonished, adding a bit of sternness into her voice. “You have succeeded where many, even the greatest among us, would have made greater mistakes and failed. If you wish to be truly contrite, then learn from what happened so that it does not happen again.”

She smiled once more as she scooped up Morgana, holding him close. “We are here now,” she murmured. “Is that not enough?”

Morgana blinked in surprise as he felt the warmth of Marie envelop him. He sighed as he closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax. It felt so warm and comfortable here.

Ann could definitely learn from Marie.

—-------

The three had gathered in the summoning room once more, as well as Da Vinci, Roman, and Mash. There had been a discussion about whether they should summon more Servants or not as they had already summoned three from Orleans. Ultimately, it was decided that it was better to have a few more just in case. The Servants they had right now were incredibly powerful and under normal circumstances would be more than enough. However, the Singularities were proving to be anything but.

Ren sighed as he rolled his shoulders. Trip to the Velvet Room aside, he hadn’t slept well. That was honestly a regular occurrence at this point. Morgana had stopped bugging him about it too – mainly because he was undergoing much the same issue. If he wasn’t beset by nightmares, his sleep for the most part was just far too fitful. Once or twice, he woke up and for a split second, thought he was back in LeBlanc. He could even smell the faint scent of coffee wafting in from below, intermingling with the musty odor of the mattress and the dust of the room.

Then the sterile air of Chaldea hit, and he remembered. He was still here, and humanity was still gone. He had checked his phone once or twice, in the hope that perhaps someone from the outside world had texted back. Aside from those messages he had sent out before the Orleans singularity, there had been no responses.

What worried him more was that it was already starting to get a bit harder to imagine his friends’ voices and their banter. Not by much, but even that was enough to terrify him. He didn’t want to forget even the smallest sliver of them – they were a huge reason why he was even fighting here, after all.

Morgana had left earlier to apologize to Marie. Everyone had already told him before he didn’t need to, but he went anyway. That was like him. If it was his fault, he would own up to it, sooner if not later. That time with Okumura proved that, as well as when he finally regained his senses back in Maruki’s false paradise. From what Morgana told him, the apology went well, so Ren was happy about that.

Ritsu was trying as hard as before to keep calm – and failing miserably, judging how she was almost bouncing on the spot. Frankly, seeing her was a breath of fresh air. The Servants and summoning only constantly reminded him of just how bad the whole situation was and how he needed their strength, both to fight and for his personas. Ritsu had emphasized that these were literal legends they were summoning – how could they not be excited?!

When she phrased it that way, he found it difficult to argue. But then, he found it difficult to argue or go against Ritsu in general. The girl was honestly a tidal wave of enthusiasm he hadn’t encountered before. She had definitely been a breath of fresh air, and despite only knowing her for a day or two, he was glad to have her company regardless. She was far different than his other friends, but that was probably a good thing.

“Are you okay, Ren-senpai?” Mash asked as she stepped forward, looking concerned. “You look a bit pale – are you sick?” She reached up and pressed a cool hand to his forehead to check his temperature.

Ren had to smile. Her concern was adorable, to put it mildly. She had spent the other day training with Archer to improve her skills. Orleans showed that all of them had a lot to learn, and she had decided to get a start on improving. With that kind of work ethic as well as her studiousness and intelligence, Makoto would get along with her. He could definitely see Makoto treating Mash like a little sister she never had.

“It’s fine, Mash,” he replied easily, grinning. “I just haven’t been sleeping well the last few days. I’ll probably have to bug Roman for some sleeping meds later. Thanks for your concern though.” Mash blinked in surprise before she hesitantly withdrew her hand with a nod. “Did you like the curry, by the way?” he asked.

Mash blinked in surprise before nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, yes, I did, senpai!” she replied with a bright smile. “There was a bit of sweetness there I hadn’t noticed before, with a bitterness that somehow brought out the spices even more. Did you use a new ingredient this time?”

Ren chuckled. “Observant as always,” he commented. “You’d be correct – I used chocolate this time. You have to be really careful with it though – too much and you’d ruin the flavor balance completely and make it overwhelming. Depending on the flavor I want, I use either milk chocolate to emphasize the sweetness a bit more with the dairy giving it a slightly fuller body, or dark chocolate so the bitterness can emphasize the spices. You can pretty much guess which I used.”

The shielder blinked in surprise. “Chocolate in curry?” she echoed, her eyes glimmering. “I didn’t think it could be used in such a way. That is a fantastic method, Ren-senpai! Did you come up with this yourself? What other dishes have you experimented with?”

Ritsu smiled as she watched the two talk. Before the whole singularity, Mash didn’t talk to many people. Most of the magi and staff ignored or treated her as a specimen at best. She never knew the whole reason behind that treatment and no one would ever tell her, no matter who or how many times she asked. The only people who really talked to her were Team A (though she kept well away from Beryl), Roman, and of course her.

Now, besides Roman, she was comfortable talking to people – she was on friendly terms with all the Servants and with Ren especially. Actually, more than just friendly in case of Ren. She had seen crushes before and by god was Mash crushing hard on him. It was beyond adorable to watch. Problem was, Mash was shy around him, and while Ren definitely wasn’t oblivious, he wasn’t exactly going for it either. She would have to give them a push or two later on…

But that was for later. For now, there were more Servants to summon!

Stepping up, she started the summoning ritual once more. After doing it once, the second time was far easier – she barely even had to think about the words as energy began gathering in the room once more. The lights got brighter and brighter before it flashed, blinding everyone once more.

As the light dwindled, a new figure stood there. A woman with long, purple hair and white robes, holding a large, cross-shaped staff in one hand. Surprisingly, despite her more conservative wear, her robes were slitted to allow easier movements for her toned legs. Despite that, she was a beautiful woman but not in a sexy sense – more of a serene kind of beauty that brought peace to the heart. She reminded her of Jeanne.

“My name is Martha, Rider class,” she intoned, smiling at all of them. “By my duty as a saint, I gladly offer my strength to save the world.” She looked around at those that gathered – including Archer and Siegfried who were standing guard – and her gaze froze upon seeing Ren. Ren also froze as well as they beheld each other. The tension in the air was palpable as neither moved. Ritsu could only silently look back and forth between the two as Mash drew closer to protect Ren. Siegfried and Archer were also tense, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Roman watched nervously as Da Vinci subtly stepped forward protectively.

Ren remembered their last meeting. Back in Orleans, Martha had accused him of being a heretic due to being able to draw forth the powers of angels and demons. She was definitely not completely in her right mind, but the accusation burned hard into his memories. And now she was here, and there was no doubt that, madness or not, she still remembered him and his powers. What would she do here? Would she accuse him once more? Would he have to defend himself against the saint?

Finally, Martha relaxed while closing her eyes. She gave a gentle smile once more. “I shall reserve my judgement, Master of Chaldea,” she murmured. “You have called my strength to save humanity and the world. You garner the loyalty of many good men and women, I can tell. That shall be enough for me for now.” With that, she stepped off the summoning platform and stood by the wall, awaiting the new arrivals. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Ritsu looked quizzically over at everyone before turning to Ren. She still hadn’t been fully briefed on the events of Orleans, so busy she was getting her room set back up and just meeting everyone – including fangirling over the Phantom Thieves – but Ren just shook his head. Well, any explanations would have to come later on. She would definitely have to bug Ren, Mash, and Roman for what the heck happened in Orleans. She had a feeling it was a wild story.

Next it was Morgana’s turn. Beginning the summoning ritual once more, the room lit up with energy before it flashed once more. Standing there was another young woman. Unlike Martha earlier, she wore what could honestly be described as half a blue kimono with fluffy detached sleeves. The top was lowered surprisingly far to show her shoulders and bare cleavage, while deep blue stockings covered her legs. Her pink hair was tied up in twintails, adorned with a large blue ribbon.

The most striking part of her appearance though was the pair of fox ears on top of her head, and a large fox tail that popped out from the back.

“Your reliable shrine maiden fox has arrived!” she declared, smiling brightly. “I am Tamamo-no-Mae, Caster! By your will, I will use my powers to bring fortune and power to all!”

The name caused both Ren and Morgana to freeze once more. The name of Tamamo-no-Mae was well known to both of them. The fox spirit that took the form of a beautiful courtesan, she sickened an emperor and was only exorcised by the power of a onmyōji, before she was finally hunted down and killed. Her spirit then inhabited a stone that released a toxic gas, killing all who approached it, and had to be destroyed and exorcised as well.

And if she was also known as Daji, the Chinese imperial concubine who brought about the downfall of an entire dynasty…

Before either of them could say anything, Ritsu immediately rushed up, her eyes gleaming. ”Whoa, Tamamo-no-Mae?” she asked in wonder. “As in THE legendary fox spirit Tamamo-no-Mae? That is beyond awesome! Oh, can I shake your hand? What was it like back then in your time? May I touch your ears and tail? They look so soft and fluffy!”

Tamamo blinked in surprise at the sheer enthusiasm that Ritsu showed before she giggled, raising her sleeved arm to cover her mouth. “My, what a spirited youth you are,” she commented kindly, grinning at her. “I must admit this was the first time my presence has been received so… enthusiastically. My ears and tail are off-limits, unfortunately, but it is a pleasure to meet you indeed. If the world needs to be saved, so I shall save it – my powers are at your disposal.”

She glanced over at Ren and Morgana, who were watching her warily. Her smile became a bit sadder. “It would seem my reputation precedes me, however,” she murmured. “You need not worry. I only grant my power to those with good intentions – and noble ones such as yours are more than worthy of it. I do not ask you to easily trust me, for I shall prove my power and my worth in time.”

Then she looked over at the catlike Morgana, staring at him for a second as her fox ears twitched. “Well, that would explain why you were unsurprised by my fluffy appearance,” she muttered as she walked to stand at the wall as well. On the way, she stopped by Archer, narrowing her eyes at him. “Have I, perhaps, met you somewhere before…?” she asked slowly.

Archer stared back at Tamamo, frowning in concentration, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe we have,” he replied. “You might have met another summon of me, but if that is the case, I do not have his memories.”

The fox-like Caster nodded her head slowly. “Yes, I do believe you’re right,” she accepted before finally waiting at the wall to finish the summons.

Ren and Morgana looked at each other before turning to Ritsu, who still had stars in her eyes. In the end, they both could only shrug. Ritsu had a good head on her shoulders and a decent sense of people, fangirling aside. The other Servants – Archer, Siegfried, and Da Vinci – didn’t seem especially wary of her either, though Mash did draw closer to Ren once more after noting his nervousness. Tamamo didn’t seem like too bad a person, despite her legend. Time would tell for sure what kind of person she was.

In the meantime, Ren was the only one left. He stepped up to the summoning platform and began the ritual once more. The lights once more reappeared… then it started vibrating and sparking. This was new. Roman’s eyes widened at his monitoring station. “Something’s wrong,” he called out, a note of panic quickly seeping into his voice. “These readings are like nothing I’ve seen before! Da Vinci, shut it down!”

Da Vinci immediately ran over to the emergency shut off button as everyone drew closer together in a protective cordon. Even Martha and Tamamo were there, the former taking the front line and brandishing her staff while Tamamo stayed beside the Masters, summoning up paper talismans.

The self-proclaimed genius smacked the emergency shutdown button and… nothing happened. Instead, the light got brighter and brighter. “It’s not shutting down!” she called out, her ever-present smile replaced with a grave expression as she summoned her staff. “Brace yourself!” Finally, the light pulsated one last time and flashed with the sound of an explosion, nearly knocking everyone off their feet.

Finally, the light dwindled, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. Everyone held their breath, waiting for whoever it was and what their intentions were.

“Oh? This is surprising,” a male voice echoed. “I didn’t expect to get summoned like this, especially in this form. Perhaps a quick little shift for my comfort…”

The smoke cleared and revealed a new figure. A woman once more. She was rather curvy, which was only emphasized by her outfit: a striped black and dark blue skin tight, with a black, tattered half-cape. She wore a unique helmet that jutted out almost like a demonic beak, with red glass covering the eye holes.

Ren and Morgana’s eyes widened. Despite the apparent change in gender, that outfit and appearance was far, far too familiar.

Reaching up, the helmet disappeared, revealing shoulder-length brown hair with auburn, almost red eyes. “Ugh, what a stifling helmet,” the woman grumbled. Finally realizing she had an audience, she flashed them a sardonic smile. “Well, didn’t expect such a large welcome,” she noted, seemingly uncaring towards the Servants who were more than ready to attack should she make a single wrong move.

Placing a hand on her chest, she bowed to them. “I am Loki,” she declared. “Class, Avenger. I’ll admit, this is a very atypical summoning but a most interesting one. I will lend you my strength so do entertain me in the days to come, Masters. Me being bored is very rarely a good thing for anyone.”

The collected Servants once more tensed up, feeling none too friendly towards the newcomer here. They waited for a command from any of their Masters. Even Ritsu, who was normally enthusiastic about new Servants, was wary about approaching Loki. However, Ren only spoke a single name in askance.

“Akechi…?”

Chapter Text

“Akechi…?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly at the name. “Oh? You have some familiarity with me, Master?” she asked softly. Then she understood. “Ah, not me. You are familiar with my host,” she realized. “But not like this. Perhaps this is more proper for you?” With that, her image blurred – and now Loki stood there, looking like a young man once more, still with the sardonic smile.

“Well?” they asked, their voice taking a more masculine timbre. “Perhaps this was what you are most familiar with?”

Shivers ran down both Ren and Morgana’s spines. There was absolutely no doubt about it now. Appearance, voice, even the tone was far too similar. In front of them stood the former Detective Prince and former Phantom Thief member – and the traitor who tried to get them all killed: Goro Akechi. Neither of them knew precisely what happened to Akechi after he shut the doors back in Shido’s Palace – but Futaba had made it clear that she could no longer get readings on him.

Then there was Maruki’s false paradise where he came back to life, if only just for a bit, and fought alongside them. Was it real? Or was it another cognitive distortion Maruki had conjured up? Even now, neither of them had a clear answer. Before Chaldea, Akechi’s fate had been in their dreams and nightmares for a long time. And here he was.

Or rather… no. This wasn’t Akechi. This was Loki. The Persona he used when he was in the Metaverse. How fitting.

Loki’s smile widened. They stepped forward off the summoning platform toward Ren – and immediately had multiple weapons pointed straight at them. Loki raised an eyebrow before raising a hand… and gently pushing Balmung away from him. “I don’t much care for you,” Loki remarked casually, glancing over at a stern Siegfried while ignoring Archer and Martha.

Stepping forward past the bristling weapons, they reached over and… adjusted Ren’s collar. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Loki remarked with mocking concern. “But then, you are surrounded by them, technically speaking. My presence shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.” Smirking, they backed off as their figure blurred once more – and they now wore a beige suit with black slacks and shoes. Akechi’s Detective Prince uniform.

“I can tell my time here will be quite entertaining,” they concluded, glancing over at Da Vinci and Roman with a smirk as well. “I do look forward to our time together.” With another blur, Loki took on a more female figure once more before walking off, humming to themselves. The door to the summoning room hissed open as they stepped through, then hissed shut, leaving everyone just silently staring.

Ritsu was the first to break the silence. “What. The hell. Was that,” she flatly stated. “We-we just summoned a goddamn Norse god. I… I didn’t even think that was possible. I thought you couldn’t summon gods? Demigods, sure, but a full-on god?! And to top it all off, we summoned freaking LOKI of all people?! What the hell is going on here?!”

Then she rounded on Ren. “And you seemed to recognize him… her… whatever. You seemed to recognize them,” she pointed out. “What’s the story with that? We gotta know what we’re dealing with here or we’re in huge trouble! So, what’s going on here!”

“I think it’s best to give him some space, Ritsu-senpai,” Mash quickly interjected as she worriedly observed Ren. The Master was completely pale, his pupils dilated. Indeed, Loki’s observation that he had seen a ghost wasn’t too far off the mark from his reaction. Morgana didn’t fare much better, plopped down and staring at the floor in pure and absolute shock.

The girl blinked in surprise at Mash’s comment, then immediately stepped closer in concern. “Hey, Ren? Come on, earth to Ren,” she called out, gently shaking him. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Deep breaths now.” Ren glanced down at Ritsu, but his gaze seemed to be staring past her as opposed to at her. It was clear his mind was very much somewhere else right now.

“We still have to decide what to do with Loki,” Roman pointed out, running a hand through his orange hair as he stepped out from behind the workstation, Da Vinci by his side once more. “For now, it’s probably best if we unsummon them. Archer, Siegfried, could I ask you to-“

“No.”

The flat response came from Ren. Everyone turned to Ren in surprise as he seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. “We’re not killing them,” he growled with surprising vehemence.

Archer shot a sharp look at Ren. “Master, we can’t afford to continue along with your policy of non-killing,” he admonished. “Especially if they’re here in Chaldea and could pose a considerable threat to us. Unless you have a good reason why we shouldn’t kill them, we-“

“I don’t give a damn about reasons this time, Archer,” Ren snarled back, easily meeting his glare and surprising Archer in turn. “We’re not killing them and that’s final. I’ll… I’ll figure something else out. But we’re not killing them.” He turned his gaze to the other collected Servants. “Could one of you keep an eye on Loki?” he asked. “Just because we’re not killing them doesn’t mean we’re just gonna let them run free.”

Siegfried stepped forward. “Allow me, Master,” he replied earnestly. “I am somewhat knowledgeable about the gods from my own homeland. Should any problem arise, I will tend to it and ask for help if necessary.”

Ren nodded grimly. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll be counting on you, Siegfried.” The dragonslayer nodded, then turned and faded away into spiritual form, leaving the others standing in the room. A moment of silence passed as they considered what on earth just happened.

“Right, um… perhaps a tour might be in order, Ren-senpai? Ritsu-senpai? Mr. Morgana?” Mash called out to break the silence, looking anxiously around.

“I think I could use some coffee first,” Roman muttered as he massaged the bridge of his nose once more. “Hey Ren, think I could ask you for a cup or three? I think we’ll need it before long today.”

The Phantom Thief glanced up at Roman and was about to refuse, but a wave of weariness washed over him. He was exhausted, mentally and emotionally. A habit he could fall back on may be precisely what he needed right now. “Yeah, yeah, I can make you a cup,” he replied wearily. “What about the rest of you? Tamamo? Martha? You guys drink coffee?”

Tamamo blinked in surprise as her ears twitched. “I personally prefer tea myself,” she admitted. “But I am curious about this beverage. I shall repay you for your hospitality.”

Martha thought, then shrugged. “I have heard about it, but I haven’t tried it myself,” she replied. “Please, lead the way, Master.” It was clear that the Servants agreed to take their mind off things – and to make sure their own Master didn’t destabilize further. Mash, in the meantime, reached down and gently scooped up the near-catatonic Morgana.

With that, they all silently filed out of the summoning room. Complicated days were ahead.

—-------

Cú Chulainn waited patiently at the water’s edge in the simulator, his fishing rod barely moving above the pool. Apparently, one could do some fishing over here – at least, that’s what he heard from that Rider and Elizabeth. He was surprised he hadn’t heard about this earlier. So far, no one had joined him. Elizabeth was apparently trying to find a room that could serve as a studio and practice room for her (God forbid), and Ren was with the other Masters summoning more Servants.

It was definitely gonna get crowded here, that much was clear.

Honestly, he was still thinking about what the Masters – in this case, Ren and Morgana – had talked about in the Metaverse, coupled with the report he heard from both Saber and Archer about it. It was serious enough that the latter had dropped his usual snarky demeanor and presented to him the straight facts about the doppelganger’s… Palace, as they were called. The environment, the demons, the wyverns, that cognitive Satan, and more.

He missed on a helluva battle, he knew that much, but more than that, to be able to affect a person’s mind, even Servants… It definitely stuck in his craw. As a pragmatic warrior, he could appreciate being able to go into someone’s mind in such a manner and be able to alter the course of a battle with the least amount of killing. But for someone who loved a good scrap like him, it certainly felt like he was cheating.

But then, these Palaces were a person’s mind, right? Then wouldn’t he’d be fighting an idealized version of that person since that’s what they were in their head? Or was he missing a few notes about that? It definitely would make for a more fun fight.

Discarding that thought for now, it certainly connected a lot of pieces for him, especially regarding Ren. The kid had never actually killed before. Whatever he ‘killed’ were just pieces of thought and imagination as opposed to actual people. No wonder why he was so shaken up by the corpses he saw in Orleans.

It also explained how he cut his teeth in battle too – you couldn’t have a better ‘home turf’ than your own mind, after all. Their targets may not have been Servants, but even he would be leery about going into the head of the various scumbags they encountered. He had to wonder what would happen if he could delve into Medb’s mind.

He immediately shuddered and dismissed the thought. No way in HELL did he want to enter that woman’s head. He was fearless but not a complete idiot. Frankly, he would rather bind himself to that damn rock again with his own entrails than go into her head.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

In a split second, the Gae Bolg was in Cú’s hand as it shot up, barely missing the person who backed off, laughing. Cú turned to look, his grip tight on the Gae Bolg. Standing nearby smirking at him was a girl about the Masters’ age, wearing a beige suit. The glint in her eyes definitely sent shivers up his spine. All his instincts were telling him she was bad news. And worst of all: She was a Servant.

“Oh, you must be a new arrival, huh?” Cú asked casually. Despite the light tone of his voice, however, he still kept the Gae Bolg out in the open, nor did his eyes ever leave the new Servant. “Takes a lot of skill – and guts – to sneak up on me. I’m guessing you’re an Assassin class?”

The Servant chuckled once more. “Not an Assassin, I’m afraid,” she replied, still grinning despite the clear menace Cú was exuding. “Just a Servant whose combat capabilities are quite low, especially compared to yours. I was merely curious about the facilities and wished to explore. Feel free to ignore me and continue about your business.”

The Lancer raised his eyebrows at that comment. She said low combat capabilities, yet she managed to sneak up on him without so much as a whisper of her presence. If this Servant was trying to get him to lower his guard, she was doing an extraordinarily poor job of it – and he had a feeling she was doing so intentionally. “Aren’t the Masters supposed to give you a tour of the place?” he asked warily. “What are you doing wandering off and about then?”

The young woman sighed, donning an expression of woe. “Oh, I seem to have made a very poor impression on them,” she lamented. “I’ll have to find some way to apologize. In the meantime, I’m grateful they have left me to my own devices so that I may peruse the facilities at my own leisure. Knowing where everything is surely going to be handy.”

“Is that right?” Cú muttered before setting down his fishing rod. He turned to fully face the new Servant. “So, what’s your game?” he asked, slouching over the rock as he rested the Gae Bolg on his shoulder. “I doubt you’re here for friendly chit-chat, and frankly, you reek of bullshit even from here. The hell do you want?”

The Servant’s smile widened further, dropping what little pretense of innocence remained. “Ah, now is the question now, isn’t it?” she replied softly. “I do wish for quite a few things. A ring that could duplicate itself, for instance. A cloak of feathers that would allow me to fly at any time. A trough filled with all the meat I could possibly eat for the next week or three. To see the world freeze then burn, and then watch what is born from the ashes.”

She glanced over as the Lancer’s grip on the Gae Bolg tightened. “But what I wish most of all,” she murmured. “A desire that gods, monsters, and humanity share no matter what: Entertainment. Chaos and order are boring concepts by themselves, but what would happen if order were brought to chaos, or chaos brought to order? Do you not find that a most interesting prospect?”

“Can’t say I do,” Cú growled as he stood up, towering over the Servant. “I warn you though – if you try to cause any bullshit here, we’ll all be on you before you can even blink, even with your fancy trick of sneaking up on people.”

He stepped forward and pointed his spear right at the Servant’s throat. “So what’s it gonna be?” Cú asked.

The Servant looked down almost disinterestedly at the Gae Bolg, then at the Lancer himself… then chuckled. She reached up and gently pushed the spear away with two fingers – making sure not to touch the blade itself and only the shaft.

“Good to see you are so loyal, hound,” she commented snidely with a wide sardonic grin. “You need not worry. This mission to save the world and humanity seems ripe with entertainment. It’d be beyond pointless to ruin it when it’s still ripening.” With that, she turned away, uncaring that the spear was pointed at her once more. “It was a pleasure to meet you nevertheless,” she said, raising a hand to carelessly wave goodbye as she vanished in a shower of golden light.

Cú watched as the Servant disappeared, holding up his spear for a second longer, before it vanished in his hands. He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He glanced over to the side at seemingly thin air. “Took you long enough,” he called out. “Were you supposed to keep an eye on her?”

A flash of golden light later and Siegfried appeared. “My apologies, Lancer,” he replied contritely. “I do not know how, but they seemingly escaped my notice with ease. I had only just found them and was observing them. If you’ll excuse me, I need to-“

The Lancer immediately waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t bother,” he muttered. “If they can escape you that easily, then there’s not gonna be anybody here who can keep track of them.” He would probably run himself ragged trying to follow the damn Servant despite his ludicrous speed. Perhaps that Rider would be able to follow them.

“So our Masters summoned an Assassin?” he asked rhetorically. “I figured it was about time we got one, given how they are. Wish they weren’t such a loose cannon though.”

Siegfried blinked, then shook his head. “That is no Assassin, Lancer-“

“Call me Cú.”

“Cú,” the dragonslayer amended himself. “That was an Avenger class Servant – Loki.”

Cú Chulainn immediately whipped around to stare at Siegfried in shock. “Y-you said an Avenger Servant?!” he spluttered. “And it’s Loki?!”

Siegfried nodded grimly. “Indeed,” he replied. “It certainly seemed unlikely Loki would be summoned here, yet they are.”

The Lancer clicked his tongue as he scratched the back of his head. The Trickster God and bringer of Ragnarok, the cataclysm that ended the Age of Gods for the Norse divine spirits here? That definitely wasn’t good news. “Any clue why that might be the case then?” he asked, glaring at the spot where Loki had vanished. “Gods like that may show up on a whim, but something’s gotta catch it first.”

The dragonslayer frowned. “It is a guess,” he said slowly. “But I believe that their appearance has something to do with our Masters, particularly Ren Amamiya. He called Loki by another name – ‘Akechi’. There is no doubt there is some familiarity there.”

“Is that right…?” Cú mused. Akechi… he heard that name before. During the debriefing, when their Master shared with them his adventures. Apparently he was a one-time enemy of theirs and a traitor. He sighed, irritated. Just as he thought he figured out one thing about his Masters, another damn thing popped up. Screw it. 

If his Master wasn’t going to be forthcoming with answers – and it could be answers that could easily get them all killed – he was gonna ask for them himself. 

—-------

Ren was in his element and more. He was moving about the kitchen with practiced and routine ease as he moved from the coffee brewers to the pot of curry that was cooking on a nearby stove top. Normally his cooking routine wouldn’t be so… monotonous – he had been getting cooking lessons from Archer, after all – but after what he had just been through, he needed something to fall back on. The ever-classic LeBlanc curry and coffee combo suited that purpose just fine.

Aside from Archer, who was silently helping in the kitchen, everyone else had piled into the counters outside of the kitchen. All of them were quiet, even the normally garrulous Ritsu. Having an Avenger in their midst didn’t sit well with anyone, especially one that could give Ren and Morgana such a drastic reaction. Morgana himself was sitting on the edge of the group, silent. As many questions as they all had, it was better to give the two some space for now.

There wasn’t any other staff in the cafeteria at the moment. They had been called away by Roman and Da Vinci for an emergency discussion on how they could tighten down their systems and prevent Loki from tampering with their systems. They weren’t about to leave it to chance that Loki wouldn’t screw around one way or another.

That Siegfried lost track of Loki so easily only exacerbated everyone’s worries and was the reason the two left to call the meeting in the first place.

Finally, the curry was ready. Ren ladled out the curry on prepped dishes of rice before turning around and pouring out cups of the carefully crafted brew. Archer swooped in and took the dishes out to everyone at the counters while Ren followed up with cups. He flashed his usual smile towards everyone as he did so. “Let me know what you guys think,” he said.

Martha and Tamamo glanced at their plates, judging the sight of it. Picking up their spoons, they took a spoonful of the curry and rice and bit into it. Martha’s eyes immediately lit up. “Oh wow,” she gasped. “This is fantastic! I didn’t realize food this rich existed! These flavors are marvelously complex, and the meat is so tender! And these spices!” With that, she began wolfing down the curry, her eyes practically gleaming in bliss.

The Caster, on the other hand, ate in a more reserved manner. “It is quite delicious,” she commented with a smile. “However, the flavors are not, shall we say, ‘my cup of tea’. I usually prefer more traditional Japanese dishes. That said though, I certainly would like the recipe if you’re willing to give it. I would love to make more of this if possible.” Ren grinned at the opinion of the two women. Well, that was as good as it gets when it came to Servants.

Tamamo reached over for the coffee and daintily took a sip – and her eyes lit up in turn. “Mikooon~!” she exclaimed, her ears perking up as her tail swished fiercely. “What a marvelous flavor! Bitter, yes, but many notes interweaved within! A faint, soft sweetness, and a surprisingly clean finish! I’ve heard many tales of this ‘coffee’ and have even tried it once, but compared to the swill I have tried before, this is excellent beyond measure!”

Ren chuckled, joined by Morgana, their hearts lightened a bit from the laughter. “You definitely have a good palate,” Ren complimented with a grin. “That blend is made from Brazilian Bourbon. They don’t have high quantities so I’m honestly surprised Chaldea even had any on hand to begin with. Since you’re more used to traditional Japanese tea, I thought I would find something that was most like it. Glad to see you like it.”

“My, what an attentive Master you are,” Tamamo commented, smiling over the edge of her cup. “It seems I did not make a mistake offering my services to you. I thank you greatly for your hospitality and will be sure to repay it a hundredfold when the situation allows.” So saying, she took another sip of the coffee, her elegant expression of enjoyment marred only by the happy twitch of her ears and tail.

Martha glanced over at Tamamo enjoying her coffee, then took her cup and tried a sip for herself – and her face immediately twisted into one of disgust for a split second before forcing her features back to a neutral expression. That being said, for Ren and Morgana who were used to watching the reactions of LeBlanc’s patrons both new and old, such an expression didn’t easily pass by their observation.

“It is, ah, a very… bracing beverage,” Martha commented with difficulty. It was obvious she was trying to find words to properly compliment it.

Morgana chuckled again. “Not a fan, huh?” he teased, grinning over at her. “It’s fine – it’s not everyone’s thing, after all. We’ve had a friend or two that just couldn’t understand why the rest of us enjoyed coffee so much. Hey Ren, we still got creamers and sugars, right?”

Ren nodded with a smirk, walking over to grab some for Martha’s coffee – and blinked in surprise as he came upon Ritsu’s and Mash’s place at the counter. He had served everyone some curry and coffee. The Servants still had some food on their plates and were enjoying (or trying to enjoy) their coffees. In contrast, the girls’ plates and cups were already empty.

Ritsu grinned up at Ren. “Think you got enough for seconds?” she asked. “Maybe thirds?” Mash, meanwhile, looked abashed and fidgeted in her seat – a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, who wrapped an arm around Mash and pulled her close. “And another for our favorite Mashumallow here!” she called out cheerily for her.

“R-Ritsu-senpai?!” Mash gasped, her face turning a bright hue of red.

The former barista shook his head with a smile. “Two more plates of curry and more coffee, coming up!” he called out.

“Oi, make that three, kid!”

Ren blinked as he peered over. Cú Chulainn was coming in with a smirk and a wave before sitting down at the counter himself. Ritsu looked at him up and down, and for obvious reasons – the Lancer’s skintight outfit left little to the imagination. Cu quickly noticed the attention he was getting and grinned. “What, never seen a Servant before?” he asked teasingly, leaning up against the counter.

“Seeing is believing, as they say,” Ritsu replied, still ogling unashamedly. “And I believe what I see is very fine indeed.” The comment caused the Lancer to burst out in laughter. After Medb and most other Celtic women, what Ritsu did was honestly refreshingly innocent and straightforward. It was a breath of fresh air, all things considered.

“You’re alright, kid, you’re alright,” he replied with a wide grin. Difficulties aside, he was certainly happy that his Masters this time were far more understanding and easier to deal with than some other ones he could think of. It was a nice change of pace overall. He grinned appreciatively as Ren served out even more plates and coffees before finally getting the creamer and sugar for Martha, and happily tucked in.

Before long, everyone was sitting back contentedly with empty plates and cups. Ren grinned as he collected the plates from everyone. “So, how was it, everyone?” he asked rhetorically, glancing back at the group as he placed them all inside the sink.

Martha smiled and nodded. “It was quite lovely, thank you,” she replied with a small nod of gratitude. “My time didn’t have such foods – they were often far plainer – so to taste something like that was quite exquisite. The coffee… I’m afraid it agreed with me less than I’d like. The creamer and sugar made it more tolerable, but it’s not something I will get used to anytime soon, I should think.”

Morgana shrugged. “That’s alright,” he replied casually. “Honestly, coffee is definitely more of an acquired taste for some than others. Jeanne couldn’t handle it either. She’s got a surprising sweet tooth here, did you know that?”

The Rider perked up. “Jeanne d’Arc is here?” she gasped, her eyes glimmering eagerly. Then she blinked and settled back down, clearing her throat, and smiled gracefully once more. “It is good to hear a fellow saint is here,” she continued more calmly. “I shall have to find her once we are done here. I’m sure she and I have much to speak about.” Both Ren and Morgana just nodded smiling, while Ritsu barely held her mirth with a small chuckle. That lapse in her composure wasn’t missed by them.

Tamamo sipped her coffee – her third cup now. “Indeed, I must thank you for introducing me to this new realm of beverages,” she commented. “It is quite delicious with very subtle notes that are quite enjoyable. Might I trouble you to perhaps teach me how to brew this? I think it would compliment very well with certain snacks.”

Ren grinned. “Always happy to teach,” he replied. Teaching how to make coffee… It definitely reminded him of his time with Sojiro back at LeBlanc. One of the couple times he was undoubtedly happy. The old man was rather gruff with his teachings and stern with his judgement, but never unfairly and he learned swiftly under him. The memory of Sojiro’s eyes lit up when he created a cup of coffee that met his standards was still something he held on to.

Cú Chulainn stretched, satisfied with his meal. “Good stuff as always, kid,” he complimented Ren. Then he glanced up at him. “Wish that was all I was here for though,” he added.

Once more, the air changed, tension immediately rocketing. Mash glanced back and forth nervously between Ren and Cú, Ritsu raised an eyebrow but kept quiet, Martha and Archer straightened up – obviously and subtly respectively – while Tamamo continued to calmly sip her coffee, though the twitch of her ears showed she was attentive, nevertheless.

Ren and Morgana looked at each other. This was definitely a repeat of that time in the cafeteria. However, this time Cú most likely wasn’t going to leave without some answers.

That being said, this time was different as well. He had already divulged a large amount of information to Mash, Da Vinci, and Roman, as well as the Servants. They had taken all that information in good faith and had kept it secret as he requested, nor had they shown any inclination of abusing that knowledge as both he and Morgana feared. They needed to bring Ritsu into the loop as well beyond the basics, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity to.

Perhaps it was time to trust them again, if only to prevent them from getting stabbed in the back.

The Master sighed. “Look, this isn’t a good time to talk about it,” he murmured. “Someone might still be listening in on us. I would do it telepathically but…” He glanced over at Ritsu and Mash and nodded to them. “I owe you guys some answers as well.”

“That will not be a problem, Master,” Tamamo stated. With a flick of her wrist, multiple paper talismans appeared in the air before shooting off, pasting themselves on the walls in a perimeter around the room. A few covered the security cameras as well. “All sight and sound from this room has been sealed off,” she explained. “No one outside will hear us unless I wish for it. Will that suffice, Masters?”

Ritsu blinked as she observed the glowing talismans. “So, uh, is it premature to tell you that you’re freaking awesome, Tamamo?” she asked, looking about in awe.

The Caster raised a hand to cover her mouth as she gently giggled. “It never is, my Master,” she cooed. “Please, feel free to compliment me more when timing permits. But not now.”

With that, everyone’s attention was on Ren and Morgana again, the latter having hopped up onto the counter to stand beside Ren. They looked at each once more, then nodded. Ren contacted the other Servants via telepathy so that he could relay the story to them as well. With that, Ren decided to tell them what he knew.

—------- 

Goro Akechi.

An enigmatic young man who was a rising celebrity alongside the Phantom Thieves. He was heralded as the Second Coming of the Detective Prince, behind Naoto Shirogane. Prominently featured on TV and other media, he had been spearheading the psychotic breakdown cases that had been plaguing the city. Handsome, charming and affable, intelligent and cunning, he stole the hearts of countless people, young and old.

With his rising stardom, it was inevitable that he was set into conflict with the Phantom Thieves in the eyes of the public. The stalwart Detective Prince against the enigmatic Phantom Thieves – what better competition would there be? The Thieves continued to take hearts and made their targets confessed as Akechi hunted them down, trying to discern their identities and showing what bits of information he could share on national TV.

Rather, it had been played that way.

The truth had ultimately been far more complicated. Akechi could enter the Metaverse like the Phantom Thieves, and just like them had the power of persona as well. He blackmailed the Phantom Thieves into working with him to alter the heart of Sae Niijima, which was in their interest as well – the prosecutor was pressured to find any reason to arrest them, and for her career, was more than inclined to.

And that’s when everything went straight to hell. Akechi was a traitor, working with Shido, and got Ren arrested and interrogated. He would be killed in an interrogation cell, far from any prying eyes, made to look like a suicide, and that would be that.

Except… they had figured him out long ago. Before everything that happened in Chaldea, only those who entered the Metaverse with Morgana could understand him. Otherwise, he was nothing more than a cat. And Akechi had inadvertently revealed long ago he could hear Morgana. Thus, they planned against him.

And then, the final confrontation with him in Shido’s Ark. There, they learned the truth about Akechi: An illegitimate orphan of Masayoshi Shido, made into his personal assassin. He had been working with his biological father in secret, in the hopes of getting close enough to kill him himself. His charming façade fell away into vengeful hatred and rage, which he turned on the Thieves for getting in his way.

Dispensing with his false Robin Hood persona, he pulled out his true persona: Loki. A struggle ensued, taking all of the Phantom Thieves to finally defeat him. Just as they were about to convince him to truly join them, however, they were ambushed by more shadows and Shido’s cognitive Akechi.

Then he shot a bulkhead door. It closed, locking him with his doppelganger and the shadows. A gunshot rang out from behind the door. And Oracle sensed nothing more from him.

Goro Akechi was no more.

—------- 

Everyone considered in silence. Ren himself was stone-faced, though he was gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles had turned white. Morgana walked over to place a comforting hand on his arm, earning Ren’s smile of gratitude.

The debriefing had only glanced over some details of Akechi, particularly where it had been relevant to the Phantom Thieves but laying it out like this was… painful. Ever since their adventures, Ren and Morgana hadn’t spoken of Akechi at all. And frankly, neither did the public. After they restored the world to the way it was from Maruki’s false paradise, it was like he never existed at all. One or two murmurs at best, but everyone moved on. Life moved on.

They hadn’t moved on, and before the Incineration, hadn’t been given a chance to.

“Huh,” Cú huffed as he sat back in his chair. “Not the worst I heard, but that still fucking sucks. Still, glad you told us. At least we know why that Akechi kid is the host to a trickster god like that.” He heaved an irritated sigh. “Sorry. I’m not the best with reassurances or sympathies. Still, that doesn’t make them any less annoying to deal with. Frankly, they’re as easy to figure out as a tangle of matted wool, and they just send shivers down my spine.”

“Oh, come now, I can’t be all that bad.”

At the sound of their voice, everyone started as Ren and Morgana whirled around. Leaning up against the kitchen counters next to the brewers was Loki, who had filled a cup for himself and was sipping daintily at the liquid. 

“Please, don’t mind me,” they called out with a sardonic smile. “I have heard tales of your coffee and curry, and while I’m not immediately hungry, I must say this brew is superb. My compliments to the chef.” For emphasis, he took another sip, smiling happily.

“How long have you been there?” Ren asked, his tone sharp.

Loki shrugged. “Long enough to hear the story about my host,” they replied. “A most marvelous tale, however. I must commend you for it. It certainly explains quite a bit, like why I was summoned in the first place, and as an Avenger, no less.”

They took another sip of the coffee. “It seems I was correct,” they mused. “This place was quite interesting after all. If that story was merely the tip of the iceberg, I find myself deeply curious as to what is next. Here’s to your future adventures and stories, my dear Masters.” So saying, they raised their cup in a small mocking toast.

“And where would that leave you?” Archer asked. “Unfortunately, we’re not in the business of storytelling or running a show. We do have a world and humanity to save, and would appreciate it if you weren’t just a freeloader. Where do you stand with us, Loki? Or should we send you back to the Throne right now and save us all the trouble?”

The trickster god glanced up and shook their head. “Temper, temper, tut, tut,” they chided. “I have not even done anything and you are already treating me with such hostility. Ah, it wounds my heart. Though…” They dropped the sadness on their face and replaced it with their smirk once more. “It would seem my reputation quite obviously precedes me. No doubt my… former associates have spread my tale far and wide.”

They leaned back against the counter, taking yet another sip. “Still, for what it’s worth,” they added casually. “I find all of you more pleasant company – far quieter and certainly far less drunk than they are, I shall say that much. Them and their constant feasts and festivities.” Growling out the last part, they returned to their coffee.

Ritsu stared at Loki, then hopped off her seat, marched into the cafeteria, standing face to face with Loki. The trickster god raised an eyebrow at the audacity of the girl. “And how can I help you?” they asked out of curiosity.

“Put down your coffee cup first,” she ordered, her tone oddly neutral – one that so far no one had heard from her. Loki, curious to see where this would go, did so. When they did and fully faced Ritsu once more, they received a solid punch to the face before anyone could stop her. “That’s for your host, Goro Akechi,” she growled. Then she raised her other fist and socked them another. “Sorry,” she added. “That’s for reminding me of a creep I don’t particularly like.”

Ritsu’s actions caught all of them by surprise, Loki most of all. There was a moment of silence… then the Avenger began to laugh, hard. “Oh, oh you are a treat!” they declared. Their smirk had transformed into a near-psychotic grin as they peered down at the girl, their auburn eyes now a bright red. “You, Ritsuka Fujimaru, are VERY interesting. Just you alone are worth the summoning. Tell me – are there other crimes you wish to punish me for?”

The girl gulped and took a step back, but nevertheless raised her hands and cracked her knuckles. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have a lot more to punch you for before everything’s said and done,” she replied, forcing down the slight quiver in her voice.

Loki’s grin widened even further. “Oh, is that so~?” they replied. “Well now, you have me looking quite forward to it. What can I do to provoke such a reaction, hm? I do hope you’ll tell me. Or should I prod around and find out for myself?” They stepped forward – and were stopped by a Bakuya and their throat and Ren moving in front of Ritsu. Behind them, all the Servants had summoned their weapons as well.

The trickster looked about at Archer and Ren, and the collection of Servants ready to spring into action. They chuckled once more, relaxing their body as their eyes dimmed back to their normal auburn color. “Oh, do relax,” they admonished. “If you are this easy to rile up, I can hardly imagine you’d manage stress on the battlefield well. I do stand by what I said – I will fight with you. It certainly does seem the most interesting thing to do – and perhaps I shall find more entertainment that way.”

They smirked again, shifting their head slightly so the blade cut their throat lightly, leading to a tiny trickle of blood running down their neck. “I do look forward to working with you all,” they finished.

There was a silence as they all considered what to do. Suddenly, Tamamo glanced at the cafeteria door. “The doctor is banging against the door,” she reported. “Shall I let him in?”

Ren blinked, then nodded. “Put away your blades, Archer,” he commanded. “Loki, behave yourself.”

There was a moment of hesitation from Archer as the talismans vanished, before his blades disappeared, though not without a sharp glare from the Servant at Loki. Loki, for their part, simply stretched their neck, smiling without a care, despite his wound. Ritsu matched his glare. Creep.

Roman rushed, panting. “Finally, I could get in,” he gasped, holding his nose. “Ran straight into the door – didn’t expect it to be locked.”

“What’s the rush, doctor?” Morgana called out from the counter. “What’s happening?”

The doctor held up a finger so he could catch his breath, then he stood back up, staring at them all with all seriousness.

“The next singularity has been located.”

Chapter Text

There was a strange air of tension within the command center, considerably more so than when they were setting off for Orleans. After all, expectations were now set, and with the debriefing, Ren and Morgana would be more closely scrutinized than before, by both Servants and the staff at Chaldea. Anything could still happen, but Ren and Morgana had proven themselves, so the pressure was even greater now.

Not to mention, it was Ritsu’s first foray into a singularity. There was some discussion on whether she should set off with them – especially considering she didn’t have nearly the combat skills of either Ren or Morgana, nor did she have their experience or strategic acumen. Some training perhaps would be needed. However, the more veteran Servants – particularly Artoria, Cu Chulainn, and Jeanne – argued that no amount of training would prepare her properly for the battlefield. It was better to send her in now.

So Ritsu, dressed in her Chaldean Master uniform, which functioned as a mystic code, stood beside Ren and Morgana, bouncing excitedly. The uniform had useful functions that included strengthening Servants, granting them brief clairvoyance to dodge incoming attacks, and even healing them. Ren could do the same as well, but with his personas, the mystic code was made redundant overall.

Formations were also shifted as well. While Mash was to protect the Masters to the best of her ability, her priority was given to Ritsu as opposed to Ren or Morgana. The latter two had the means to protect themselves far more than she did, after all. Her defensive capabilities would be far more necessary for Ritsu than they were with the Phantom Thieves. However, given Ren’s capabilities, additional protection would be required besides Servants. And it turned out, they had the perfect answer.

Joan stood nearby, crossing her arms as she stared up at the globe that was CHALDEAS. As an incarnated Servant, she could be treated much the same as one of the Masters without straining the power supply from Chaldea. She wouldn’t strain the supplies overall for Chaldea either. Amazingly enough, the Lancer Servant required almost no persuasion. As soon as she was told her role, she immediately agreed without even a hint of grumbling.

“We’ll be counting on you, Joan,” Ren called out. “Glad you’re coming with us.”

She glanced over at the Master before turning her eyes back to the globe. “I’m just doing my job,” she muttered. “I have to make sure you all survive so this won’t all be for nothing.” That all the people she killed in France wouldn’t have died for absolutely nothing. Their lives were wasted to a heretic and sinner like her – all she could do at this point was make up for it. Now and in the future.

“Oh, ragazzo and gatto~!” came Da Vinci’s sing-song voice over the intercom. “Please see me at my workshop~! Your universal genius has presents for you~!”

Ren and Morgana looked at each other in surprise. Come to think of it, they never received their weapons back from her. Ritsu grinned. “Gifts from Da Vinci?” she asked. “Well of course – the Phantom Thieves only use the most awesome stuff, after all. Go on! I wanna see it when you guys come back!” With a small (not so small) encouraging push from Ritsu, they set off down the hallway towards the Caster’s workshop.

“Do you think we should tell her that most of the stuff we used were just replicas?” Morgana pondered as he walked beside Ren in his Metaverse form.

The leader of the Phantom Thieves chuckled in turn. “I think we can keep that a secret for a bit longer,” Ren replied with a grin. He still remembered all the weapons and gear he bought from Iwai, or the stuff he collected in Mementos and had to wash at the laundry machine. They all turned out extremely useful – and surprisingly sold for a decent amount too once the team no longer had any use for them.

Honestly, it was a blessing that he could do his laundry in the coin-based laundromat right across from LeBlanc which also neighbored a bath. Explaining to Sojiro where he got all the dirty clothes from would definitely have been awkward overall. Stashing away weapons, however, was another story. Thankfully he used knives and pistols, while Morgana used scaled down swords and slingshots. Easy to conceal in his bag.

Thankfully, Haru had come in as a godsend, renting out a storage unit for most of their gear. It got harder and harder to hide things like Ryuji’s clubs, Yusuke’s katanas, and most of all, Haru’s battleaxes and grenade launchers. How they weren’t caught by the cops with those, he would honestly never figure out…

Coming to a stop at Da Vinci’s workshop, they once more tapped the door panel. The door hissed open almost immediately, allowing the two in. Entering the room, they found Da Vinci wearing magnifier glasses, closely looking over Ren’s knife. “Hey, Da Vinci,” Ren called out, loud enough to be heard but not so much as to disturb her. “I hear you’ve got something for us.”

The Caster looked up and grinned, pushing up her glasses. “Indeed I do, my ragazzo!” She handed back their weapons which now looked a bit different – a streak of white across the blades of their respective weapons. Switching forms, the top part of the gun retained the white streak while the prongs of Morgana’s slingshot held the same coloration.

“Please, do try them out,” Da Vinci chirped with a grin. “I had particular fun customizing them this time around – improving upon one’s own works is the sigh of a true genius, after all~” She looked at them expectantly. “How do they feel, ragazzo? Gatto?”

Ren stared at the streak in his knife approvingly before twirling it in his hand. He switched to its gun form and aimed it carefully, making sure to keep his finger off the trigger. It was no slouch before, but it just felt better in his hand now than it did before. He had a similar feeling with some of the weapons he picked up back in the Metaverse – despite their progressively outlandish designs, they somehow still felt easier to wield and use than more ‘practical’ knives and guns in turn.

He grinned at the self-proclaimed genius. “And once more, you’ve outdone yourself,” he complimented earnestly. “This certainly feels better than before. What kind of modifications did you do this time?”

As he asked, he aimed carefully through the sights of his pistol while activating his Third Eye. It was a technique that came in handy when he was fighting Servants in the real world. He would have to practice more with it. Meanwhile, Morgana was giving his own cutlass experimental swings, and judging from his grin, was just as happy.

Da Vinci’s smile became mischievous. “Do you remember when you sent back Fafnir’s fangs back to Chaldea~?” she asked innocently.

Both Ren and Morgana froze, their mind immediately putting the pieces together. Both of them stared at their weapons in shock. “Whoa,” Morgana gasped. “No way. You… you actually incorporated Fafnir’s fangs into our weapons?! That’s… that’s ridiculous! Did you just make us Noble Phantasms, Da Vinci?!”

The Caster immediately burst out laughing gleefully. “Oh, my, how flattering, my dear gatto!” she cried. “No, no. These aren’t Noble Phantasms. While they’re powerful on their own right now, they still lack the mystery and legend behind them to truly make them Noble Phantasms. No, my ragazzo and gatto, these are still just mystic codes. But as you can tell, they are far more powerful than most. At the Clock Tower, you would be offered enough money for a hundred lifetimes for them.”

Ren gulped as he stared at the weapon in his grasp. It wasn’t like he was unused to holding legendary weapons in his hands – after all, few could match the Paradise Lost knife he had formed from executing Satananel and the Tyrant Pistol he had created by doing the same to Lucifer. However, those were weapons bound and utilized within the Metaverse. In the real world, while they still held a great amount of power, it was locked away until they were brought once more into the cognitive world.

But this… this was different. The Chaldean weapons were made by Da Vinci with real world materials, with materials that were beyond fantastical. Noble Phantasm or not, what they held in their hand would be considered by anyone to be mythological weapons, worthy of a lot more respect than just a weapon. And it was power that they were honestly wary of. It may be just barely enough against Servants or mythological beings, but just what would it do to a regular person…?

Suppressing the thought, Ren forced his usual carefree grin on his face. “Heh, well, it’s gonna be useful regardless,” he commented lightly as he switched it back to its knife form and began swinging it around to test it. He could practically feel the blade cutting through the air with unnatural sharpness. It may be just his imagination, but with how mystery seemingly combined both cognitive and reality together, it was extremely hard to say for certain. “Any particular changes we should be aware of?”

Da Vinci sighed in disappointment. “Not as much as I’d like, sadly,” she lamented. “The edges of your blades are sharper and keener, they’re more durable, and the shots – both the normal and special shots – are more powerful overall. However, I couldn’t go too far. I needed to leave good portions of it unmodified so that if there were other interesting materials, I could do further work on them.”

Both Ren and Morgana whirled to Da Vinci. “More work?” Morgana echoed. “Hold up, you mean to tell me you plan to do more?!”

The genius grinned broadly. “Si!” she answered, beaming. “The singularities are a crisis, but they are also a treasure trove of mysteries and materials that even I, the Uomo Universale, would be hard-pressed to find in the real world! It would be remiss of us not to exploit them so that we may work towards fixing the problem overall! Geniuses always find solutions within problems!”

The two Masters blinked at her, then could only shake their heads while smiling. “Can’t argue on that front, Da Vinci,” Morgana replied. “Did you make something for Ritsu as well?”

Da Vinci’s smile diminished a bit at the question. “Ah, no, I haven’t,” she replied. “Ritsu hasn’t had any weapons or firearms training, fantastical or mundane, unlike the two of you. It would not do for her to have a weapon where she might end up harming herself. She has been given a standard issue knife for self-defense and security usage, but no more until further notice.”

Ren considered, then nodded. Weapons were extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. The Metaverse had given the Phantom Thieves prerequisite knowledge of how to utilize their weapons, somehow, and before long, they had used the weapons so much it had become muscle memory. Unfortunately, no such shortcuts existed for Ritsu. He agreed with Da Vinci’s decision.

“Alright, if that’s all, we should probably get going,” Ren decided, sheathing the knife as Morgana turned it into his slingshot form and put it away. He smiled gratefully and gave a low bow. “Thank you so much, Da Vinci,” he said. “We’ll make good use of them. We promise.”

Da Vinci grinned and waved. “Please do~! I wish to see the data for further improvements!” she chirped. “But until then, ciao~!”

After the two left, the Caster sighed tiredly. Incorporating Fafnir’s fangs into their weapons was hardly beyond her ability. If anything, she was amazed at how easy it was. But she didn’t miss the expressions of pure shock from Ren and Morgana – and the signs of trepidation as opposed to wonder or joy. Were they wary of the power they wielded? The two had briefed her, Roman, and Mash about the Metaverse, but was fighting shadows truly that different than fighting in the singularities?

Well, that was obviously the case, or they wouldn’t be having so many problems right now. She remembered the two’s insistence on not killing. Da Vinci was many things – an idealist and a dreamer, an inventor and a scholar, an artist and a mathematician, all beyond peer. But even she kept her feet on reality.

And she knew what the two wished simply wasn’t possible. But unfortunately, some things were beyond even her ken. And that included explaining such things to such admirably strong-willed individuals. They would have to experience the reality for themselves – and they could only hope they could keep them together when that happened.

They had to. 

—-------

With that, they all gathered back in the command center once more. Roman had been waiting for them with a smile. “Welcome back, you two!” he greeted them. “I take it Da Vinci furnished your weapons?”

Morgana grinned and nodded. Ritsu’s eyes gleamed as she spun towards them. “Weapons? From Da Vinci?!” she gasped. “Lemme see lemme see lemme SEEEE!”

Mash gave an exasperated sigh as she reached over to gently pull her back. “I don’t think now is a good time, Ritsu-senpai,” she murmured. Ritsu blinked, then coughed into her hand in embarrassment before giving an apologetic smile to the others and backing off. Ren flashed a grateful smile to Mash, who returned a bashful one in turn.

Roman, meanwhile, was waiting for the fuss to die down. “Right, so now that we’re all here,” he began, raising his voice so it carried easily to everyone in the room. “The next Singularity is located once more in Europe – specifically, the Roman Empire.” He tapped out a few keys on his work console and once more CHALDEAS whirled and became blue once more, showing the continents before slowing down. A beeping dot on Italy indicated the location.

“The time period is the first century, in 60 AD under the reign of emperor Nero,” he explained. “This was during the Roman Empire’s heyday where Rome was prospering – well, more or less. You’ll be rayshifted close to Rome. Given its proximity, expect little to no conflict near the rayshift coordinates. Though given our track record with both Fuyuki and Orleans, take that forecast with a heavy grain of salt. Be ready for anything.”

He glanced over and saw Mash had her hand up. “Yes, Mash?” he asked.

“Are Servants present within the Singularity?” she asked. Roman nodded in confirmation. “Is there perhaps a method we could use to distinguish friend or hostile Servants within our area? It would certainly be good to have advance notification.”

Ren and Morgana nodded. Indeed, having Futaba scanning Mementos and revealing both the layout of the floors and what kind of enemies were there had always been helpful. If they could have something similar, it would save them a massive headache. A hope that was quickly dashed by Roman sadly shaking his head.

“Unfortunately, Servants are too complex to identify off the cuff as friend or foe,” he replied sympathetically. “Still, at least we can track incoming Servants, bar any with higher rank Presence Concealment, and mark them down on Chaldea’s IFF as necessary. It’s not much but it’s much better than nothing.”

“IFF?” Ritsu asked curiously.

“Identity Friend-or-Foe system,” Da Vinci supplied. “A fancy military term and system that basically tracks whether someone is an ally or enemy. Quick categorization makes for quick decisions in the heat of battle, after all, though of course it has its own caveats. Still, leave it to Da Vinci-chan here to make sure it’s nice and accurate at all times~!”

Ren nodded in understanding before looking over at the gathered Servants. His gaze lingered on Loki in particular, who was watching the happenings with a faintly amused expression on their face. “Hey, Roman?” he asked, turning back. “I don’t suppose we can summon more Servants before we go? We could definitely use the extra firepower and more options, just in case.”

That request took Roman by surprise as Ren never really asked to do a summoning outright, though he quickly recovered. “Unfortunately, it takes some time to gather the necessary energy and stabilize it before we can summon yet more Servants,” he replied apologetically. “If we do it too soon or too often, the summoning process becomes unstable and we end up summoning all sorts of random things – most often mapo tofu, for some reason.”

“Mapo what now,” Morgana echoed flatly.

“Mapo tofu,” Ritsu jumped in. “It’s tofu made in this spicy sauce that-“

“I know what it is!” Morgana interjected irritably. “But – just – how do you summon mapo tofu?! That makes no sense at all!”

Ritsu shrugged. “I gave up asking how anything worked here, honestly,” she replied casually. “Less of a headache that way.” She then looked over at Roman. “I don’t suppose we can run the summoning process then?” she asked hopefully. “I could use a snack before we go.”

“Ritsu-senpai…” Mash sighed exasperatedly.

Ren didn’t respond to the others as he looked back at CHALDEAS, his mind buzzing with thoughts. An idea had formed in his mind. Akechi was here, after all, wasn’t he? It may be Loki, but he could still see signs of Akechi there. It wasn’t precisely the same, but he could see hints of him underneath Loki. It was an anomaly if what everyone says was true, but it still happened.

So if Akechi was there… Why couldn’t the others as well? They had Personas that could probably qualify for it. Seiten Taisei – or Son Goku – for Ryuji, Hecate for Ann, Susano’o for Yusuke, and more. They were all powerful beings and would definitely contribute greatly to their fighting force and utility if they were ever summoned, giving them a bit of an easier time restoring humanity.

And he and Morgana could see their friends once more.

He shoved down his emotions. No. When they got to summoning, then he would consider it. For now, it was better to focus on the mission at hand. He just needed to be patient. They had Loki. The others will show up in due time. That was how it worked last time – no reason it wouldn’t work this time.

“We’ve managed to get our generators running more efficiently,” Da Vinci called out. “And with the new efficiency, we can now send four Servants out on the field! So please do pick carefully who you’ll be going with!”

All three looked over at the collection of Servants. Eleven total, not including Mash and Joan. All of them with their own talents, strengths, and weaknesses. They were entering an era of relative peace. But then, that was what Orleans was supposed to be, and that was basically a disaster with wyverns, monsters, zombies, and Servants all over the place butchering people. They needed to make their choices carefully.

“Right, we’re gonna need someone for recon,” Morgana said. “Archer, Medusa, you guys are up! The grassy fields should be really good for both scouting and mobility so we’ll be counting on both of you!”

Archer smirked and Medusa barely nodded her head in acknowledgement. “As you will, my Masters,” the latter murmured, her eyes concealed once more by the metallic blindfold. They both stepped forward, ready for their orders.

Ritsu looked about, narrowing her eyes as she focused on which Servant she wanted to bring. There were so many good choices here. But in the end, she nodded. “Tamamo – Caster,” she called out. “What little I saw of your magecraft was amazing already. You got way too much utility and probably a heck of a punch! Come on down!”

Tamamo giggled once more behind her sleeve. “Always nice to have an enthusiastic Master who appreciates my abilities,” she chirped. She stepped forward and bowed. “Then as you have called, so I shall perform,” she declared. “Caster Tamamo-no-Mae, at your service. Let’s put these ruffians in their place.”

Morgana nodded in approval of Ritsu’s choice. “Good call,” he said. “Now, we need to have a front liner. We got plenty to choose from, thankfully, so we should-“

“Loki.”

Everyone immediately looked at Ren at the immediate answer, including Loki, who raised their eyebrow. “Master, I must disagree,” Artoria replied, frowning. “Loki is a loose variable. We cannot predict their actions, nor would they be fitting for the front lines. They would be nothing more than a liability. I ask you to reconsider.”

Loki gave an exaggerated wince. “Ouch, harsh words,” they remarked before settling back into their sardonic grin.. “Not untrue though.”

“We already know what you, Siegfried, and Cu Chulainn are capable of,” Ren retorted. “We don’t know what Loki is capable of. I have some ideas thanks to knowing their… host.” He had to ground out the word. “It’s better to take them to the field and see what they can do. With Tamamo, Medusa, and Archer keeping track of them, I doubt Loki can make much mischief. It’s better we know now what Loki can do than have it cripple us at the last moment.”

Artoria looked bemused by the argument and opened her mouth to retort before she was interrupted by Loki herself laughing. “Well, I didn’t realize my company was quite so wanted,” they said cheerfully. “If that’s the case, I’m happy to come along. I want to see for myself what the deal with these Singularities are in the first place.”

Sauntering forward, they gave a low bow before standing back up, winking to Ren. “I’ll be in your care, Master~” they murmured.

Girl or not, Akechi or not, it took Ren a considerable amount of restraint not to punch Loki. A sound caught his attention and he glanced over to see Archer holding back Ritsu’s fist. “Don’t,” he muttered, glaring at the Pseudo-Servant. “It’s not worth it.”

“Ren, are you sure about this?” Roman asked concernedly. A skepticism that was shared by literally everyone in the room, staff and Servants included.

The Wild Card nodded confidently. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied.

There was a moment of silence, then Roman sighed. “Alright then,” he replied. “We’ll trust your judgement. Everyone, to your stations!”

Ren nodded as everyone moved to their workstations and the group moved towards the Coffins. They opened up and were awaiting to transport them to the new singularity. Everyone stepped in and the doors closed… with the exception of Ritsu, who shivered and hesitated as she stared at her open Coffin.

Mash, who was just about to enter, looked over. “Ritsu-senpai?” she asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

Ritsu blinked in surprise before chuckling abashedly. “Oh, nothing,” she replied, trying to shrug it off. “Just cold feet, I guess.” Her smile faded as she looked at the Coffin once more. “It’s hard to believe I have to go in one of these again,” she murmured. “The last time I went in, it was gonna be my literal coffin. I hyped myself up for it to try and get over being afraid but… heh, no such luck.”

She chuckled again, this time a bit more bitterly. “Heh, here I am wussing out in front of my idols and in front of you, Mash,” she muttered. “God, I’m definitely a sadsack right now.”

“That’s not true, Ritsu-senpai,” Mash quickly denied, walking forward and gently taking her hand in both of her own. Mash had read that physical contact could help soothe a person’s nerves, and decided to try it now. It seemed the right time for it. Roman and Da Vinci noticed there was a hold-up, but decided not to rush them, instead quickly moving to the PA system to notify the others within the Coffins.

Ritsu’s hand was warm to Mash’s touch, almost like her sheer vitality and energy converted into heat. The redheaded girl blinked in surprise and turned a slight shade of red, but she didn’t move her hand. “Ren-senpai and Mr. Morgana are scared too,” she reassured her. “But they both trust you and have faith in you. If there were any doubts, they would’ve spoken up. But they haven’t. I’m absolutely sure they will need you.”

The Master blinked again, her mouth hanging open slightly speechless. Then she giggled. “My, when did you become such a smooth talker, Mash~?” she commented with a wry grin. Mash immediately spluttered, her face becoming a deep shade of crimson at the compliment. “I see Ren is being a good influence on you, and so is Morgana. As expected of the Phantom Thieves, after all.

She looked back at her Coffin. “But you’re right,” she continued. “If they’re trusting me to watch their back, then I better not disappoint them. Time to earn my keep here.” Then deciding to see Mash flustered one more time, she quickly leaned in and gave a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the pep talk, Mash. See you on the other side~!” she chirped out before hopping into the Coffin and the doors closed.

Mash could only stare at the Coffin, holding her cheek in shock as her face turned even redder. Suddenly, Roman’s voice came over the PA, causing the girl to jump in surprise. “Ahem, um, whenever you’re ready, Mash,” he called over. Mash hurriedly nodded before jumping into her own Coffin, the doors sealing. With that, the process began.

Unsummon Program start.

Spiritron Conversion start.

Rayshift starting in 3, 2, 1…

All procedures cleared.

Grand Order, commencing operation.

And with that, they knew no more.

—------

Second Singularity – AD 60, Eternal Madness Empire: Septem

Ren blinked as they came to once more. It was a bright, verdant meadow field they were standing in once more, with the sun beaming down on them. It felt much like Orleans, but it was also considerably warmer as well. Honestly, it was tempting to take off his Chaldean uniform jacket, but that definitely wouldn’t be a good idea right now. He could, however, hear distant crashing and roaring.

“Well, I wouldn't mind this for a vacation spot,” Ritsu remarked, looking around and stretching. “Sun feels good, there’s a faint whiff of a sea breeze. Ah, this place is practically paradise. Well, besides the noise – I could certainly file a complaint about that.”

Loki chuckled darkly. “You guys really are green, you know that?” they remarked, a bitter smirk spread across their face. “You really think that’s just some common noise?”

Morgana turned to Loki with a glare. “You gonna be this irritatingly cryptic all the time, Loki?” he snapped. “Why don’t you just tell us what the hell it is?”

“It is a battle.”

Everyone turned to Medusa, who was standing as still as a statue facing the source of the noise. “The scent of blood is in the air, with the clash of swords and shields. Only a small distance to the northwest.”

Ren’s eyes widened. The mood immediately shifted. “All Servants, get over there and help out who you can!” he barked out. “Morgana, Ritsu, Mash, with me! Let’s go!” The Servants nodded and bolted off towards the battle as Ren, Ritsu, and Morgana ran as fast as they were able to after them. Before long, the Servants disappeared over a hill and out of sight, leaving the others besides Mash huffing as they struggled to keep up.

“Masters, we have a problem,” came Archer’s voice through their mutual telepathic link.

Ren blinked in surprise as he continued running. He was fit thanks to his exercising – a practice that came both from necessity as a Phantom Thief and simply spending time training with Ryuji – though it seemed Ritsu could keep pace with them as well. One less worry for them.

“What is it, Archer?” he asked over the link.

“There are two Roman legions fighting against each other,” the Servant responded. “One side is utterly outnumbered, though they have a rather… flashy figure fighting with them. It is difficult to tell who to support.”

Morgana blinked. “Well, that’s an issue,” he admitted. “Ren, can you get Roman on the line?”

Ren nodded and brought up his communicator and tapped it. The holographic Roman quickly appeared. “Hey Roman,” he panted out. “We’re coming up on a nearby battle, but there are two legions fighting each other – we don’t know who’s who.”

Through the holographic image, Roman blinked in surprise. “That shouldn’t be possible,” he said. “According to our records, this era of Roman history should be peaceful. No civil wars or anything should be going on.” He checked off screen for a second. “And according to the coordinates, you’re far too close to Rome for any foreign invaders. Just who-“

“Didn’t you say the same thing about Orleans, doctor?!” Morgana snapped as he continued running. Unlike in the Metaverse, running did drain stamina, and as fit as they all were, even he was starting to run out of breath.

“Senpai, Mr. Morgana, we’re almost to the destination,” Mash pointed out. Unlike the others, she wasn’t even tired despite hauling her huge shield. “We will be able to get a visual of the battle. Roman, we’ll need identification once we’re on site.”

Roman blinked. “Er, right,” he stammered. “Leave it to me.”

As they crested over the hill, their eyes widened at the sight. As Archer said, two Roman legions were clashing against one another, and as he said, one side was clearly outnumbering the other and pushing them back. The Servants were watching impassively (or other means of observation in Medusa’s case), reading the flow of battle before rushing in.

The Masters and Mash all took in the details. One side, bearing purple banners emblazoned with a gold tree and wreath, had five divisions of troops, two out in force while three were maneuvering around to flank their enemy. The other, carrying banners of red and gold, marked ‘SPQR’ and adorned with a rose ringed by a wreath, only had two divisions, both of them fighting hard against the enemy.

However, there was one more marked difference between the two factions. The smaller faction had a figure in golden armor racing to and fro, as opposed to the more static Roman armies remaining clashing with one another. Their red sword danced and spun like a flame, cleaving through the front lines of the opposing soldiers before dashing away to some other point.

Roman stared through the screen, slack-jawed. “What the- this shouldn’t-“ he stammered. Then he cleared his throat. “Right, I’ll pull what information I can and see which side to support. Banners would be a good place to go with. The red banners are more proper Roman flags but purple is the color of Roman emperors so it could be the Praetorian Guard. But then-“

As Roman mumbled on trying to figure out solutions, Ren could only watch as the battle happened before him. He thought he was used to death after seeing all those bodies in Orleans, but seeing people getting cut down in front of him was another thing entirely. Swords flashing out and crashing against shields as soldiers pushed and struggled against each other, blades seeking their marks and piercing their sides or necks, resulting in blood cascading onto the grass below.

He didn’t want to see such a sight anymore. This needed to end. Now.

His eyes became blood red once more as he activated his Third Eye. Immediately his surroundings became darker as they lost their relevance in his perspective. Immediately, everyone became highlighted in a colored aura. Morgana, Ritsu, Mash, and the Servants all around them began glowing a bright blue.

Ren focused on the conflicting armies, blinking once or twice to adjust to the overwhelming brightness of the massed auras. As his eyes adjusted, however, it quickly became clear which side were allies and which side were enemies. He blinked again as his eyes went back to normal. “The ones with the red banners!” he barked out. “They’re our allies! Everyone, go!”

His orders caught everyone by surprise. Roman could only splutter a response and barely got a confirmation out before Ren shut off his communicator. Archer had already summoned his bow and was drawing back a spiral sword arrow, taking a moment before firing. It raced across the air like a comet before impacting the middle of the enemy formation, erupting in a gigantic explosion that consumed a great portion of soldiers.

Screams of fear and pain rang through the air, causing the Masters’ stomachs to plummet. But they couldn’t stop. Not here, not now.

“All forces, pull back!” came a new voice. Ren looked over to see the figure with golden armor waving her sword, dashing and roaring. “Withdraw and regroup! We have reinforcements! Pull back!” The figure turned to look at them. For a second, the gazes of Ren and the figure in golden armor met. A mutual understanding seemed to pass between the both of them before the latter turned away, continuing their commands.

A hail of arrows came in retaliation, threatening to skewer them. Mash immediately raced forward as Ren pulled Ritsu towards him, Morgana quickly joining Ren as they all took shelter underneath the shielder’s protection. Medusa’s blades whipped in the air in a flurry of steel as their chains rattled, shattering a great amount of the arrows while the remainder clanked harmlessly against the shield.

Archer had deflected his own barrage with Kanshou and Byakuya before resuming raining down arrows while Tamamo summoned a floating round mirror and deflected the arrows with a barrier from said mirror, before throwing talismans among the army. The front line was immediately blasted away by hurricane winds, scattering screaming soldiers everywhere. Joan had charged in, sword and banner in hand, and collided into the lines of legionnaires. And Loki…

Loki was missing.

Suddenly, the enemy army began screaming in fear and confusion. As Mash lowered her shield, Ren narrowed his eyes as he tried to see why – and his eyes widened when he found the reason. Loki was among the enemy forces, changed into that black outfit they initially wore – Akechi’s Metaverse outfit. But that wasn’t what caught their attention.

Their serrated blade was buried in the chest of what appeared to be a commander. Laughing madly, Loki withdrew their sword, the commander’s blood spraying out everywhere as they leaped among the soldiers, hacking away in a frenzy.

Morgana could only watch with wide, shocked eyes. “What… what is Loki doing?!” he gasped.

“Sowing discord and confusion into the enemy ranks, it seems,” Archer commented. He had withheld his fire as he observed Loki. “Fitting for a being like them. At least they’re useful.” Drawing his bow once more, he fired another volley of arrows into the further wing of the enemy forces, well away from Loki to prevent friendly fire. 

Ren could only watch as Loki tore into the enemy soldiers. Their vicious fighting style reminded him so much of when Akechi fought alongside the Phantom Thieves in Maruki’s Palace… and when he was facing that very same blade when they fought back on Shido’s Ark. It was a harrowing battle as he struggled to match the insane swings of the fallen Detective Prince.

“Ren-Senpai!”

The Master blinked in surprise as Mash charged in front of him, swinging her shield and smashing back several soldiers that had charged up the hill towards them. “Thanks Mash!” he called out gratefully. This wasn’t the time to lose track of things. He needed his head in the game. He pulled out his gun and pointed at the fray… and hesitated. Beside him, Morgana already had his slingshot out as well but had yet to fire a shot.

These weren’t monsters they were aiming at. These were…

“Masters, please stand back,” Medusa murmured, standing beside Mash with her chains bladed chains out. “We shall keep you safe.”

Ren and Morgana couldn’t respond as they processed their realization. Luckily, Ritsu filled their silence. “Thanks, Rider,” she replied with a sigh of relief. “Though going back into history is cool and all, getting skewered on a gladius is not on my to-do list.” She looked around at the Servants tearing through the enemy Roman army. “But jeez, you guys really are going to town on them,” she muttered.

It wasn’t long before the enemy forces were in a complete rout. Bombarded by Archer’s arrows and Caster’s spells, their front lines crumpling under Joan’s wrath, and with Loki constantly disappearing and reappearing murdering their commanders and causing chaos, there was no chance they could continue their assault or even mount a counterattack. The disciplined Roman army broke ranks and fled, screaming, swarmed by more arrows from Archer to keep them running.

“The enemy will not return,” Medusa commented quietly as she stood back up from her stance, the blades and chains vanishing from her hands. 

“Yeah,” Ren nodded, trying to regain his composure. “Thanks, Rider.” There was a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement back. He had to wonder – was Medusa trying to prevent them from killing if they didn’t have to? Ritsu didn’t notice, but she had stood in the way of their weapons so they couldn’t open fire. He doubted that was a coincidence.

Before he could ask, their Servants returned, looking none the worse for wear. Loki shifted back to their regular suit, stretching. “That was a nice warmup,” they said casually with their usual sardonic smirk. Nobody deigned to give them a response, not that they seemed to mind.

Their attention was drawn as three figures came up towards them – the person in golden armor flanked by two Roman soldiers. The Servants didn’t summon their weapons but all of them straightened up as they approached, ready for anything. Mash in particular drew closer to Ren as she gripped her shield more tightly while Joan drew La Pucelle once more in preparation. If the three noticed the tension among Chaldea, it didn’t cause them to hesitate.

Standing a small distance away, the one in golden armor reached up and took off their helmet, revealing a young woman with her blonde hair in a bun and striking green eyes. “Umu, well met!” she cried, smiling brightly at the group. “We didn’t call for reinforcements but your assistance is most welcome. Please, speak – I would hear the identity of our saviors.”

Everyone blinked in surprise, but Ren decided to speak up. “We are from the Chaldea Security Organization, here to help restore the timeline to its proper order. I’m Ren Amamiya, a Master. These are my fellow Masters, Morgana and Ritsuka.” He indicated to each of them. “It’s an honor to meet you. I didn’t expect such a powerful warrior to be a beautiful woman like yourself.”

The young woman laughed. “Ah, so you recognize my beauty upon first glance!” she replied cheerfully. “I thank you for your praise. It means all the more coming from one who seems as capable as you are! Your tale seems a bit wild, I must admit, but I will allow it! It would certainly help explain your extraordinary abilities and odd attire. Ah, but I forget my manners.”

She smiled brightly as she drew herself up. “I am Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus!” she declared. “You may call me Emperor Nero!”

There was a moment of silence as Chaldea digested the information. Then-

“Nero’s a girl?!?” Ritsu yelled. Morgana buried his face in his paws and Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. 

It was going to be one of those days.

Chapter Text

The girl – Emperor Nero – blinked at Ritsu’s exclamation. “Ah, it must surprise you, to see a woman as an emperor. Never fear – I am more than beautiful and grand enough for the title! I understand your admiration!” So saying, she puffed out her chest, the sunlight catching on her armor and glinting off in a dazzling shine that was honestly bewildering. Ren and Morgana winced. They never met anyone so… self-focused before. Even Shido seemed humble in comparison.

“Imperator, isn’t more caution warranted?” asked one of her bodyguards, eyeing the others wearily. “There is a considerable possibility they were spies planted with the invasion force, especially considering their proximity to Rome.” A fair assessment from the soldier, but before anyone could speak, Nero once more replied.

“Spies? What nonsense,” she scoffed. “No spy would fight so ardently for our side. And with the powers they wield, why would they be spies? They would’ve been far better served fighting alongside their legions rather than acting as spies. No, they are not spies, and I have decreed it!” The guard’s mouth struggled to work, then simply turned towards facing them once more, resigned.

Ren, however, had noticed something. Nero seemed to be a person that was much larger than life based on first impressions and easy to trust. However, her expression when explaining herself to the guard was something other than confidence. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it certainly seemed off with her expression. He couldn’t put his finger on it though.

His ruminations were interrupted as Nero whirled about, facing them once more with her hands on her hips. “Umu! We welcome you to our ranks, friends from Chaldea!” she cried. “By my decree, all of you are auxiliaries under my banner! Please, come! I must see to my men and make introductions! With me, auxiliaries!”

With that, she turned away, strutting off as the two soldiers followed her, leaving the nonplussed group behind. Ren turned his communicator back on. “Auxiliaries?” he asked curiously.

“The Roman legions didn’t rely solely on their own troops – their territory was far too vast for that,” Da Vinci supplied, her head popping into frame beside the surprised doctor. “Hence auxiliaries! Typically made up of non-Roman citizens, they volunteered into the armies for citizenship and employment and eventually grew to match proper Roman legions! In short, as you can tell, you’re basically officially part of Nero’s forces~!”

Ren blinked in surprise. “You know a surprising amount about Roman history,” he commented.

The inventor giggled in response. “I do make it a point to research, especially for Singularities~” she chirped. “A genius like me should always be learning, after all. Especially in such dangerous environments.”

“So does that mean you can take over for me for a bit?” Roman asked, smiling weakly.

“Is this because you need rest, doctor, or because Magi☆Mari is on?” Da Vinci asked in turn, her smile turning from as cheerful as sunshine to past Antarctic in frigidity. Roman could only laugh weakly in turn as he leaned away from the annoyed Caster.

Ren couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the doctor as he withered under Da Vinci’s glare and decided to intervene. “I mean, watching Magi☆Mari can count as a form of rest, Da Vinci,” he cut in. “Cut Roman some slack here. He’s been doing a good job.” Besides, it was rare for someone who appreciated his coffee to be truly a bad person – Akechi notwithstanding.

The Caster blinked, then sighed wearily. “True, he has been working far more than is actually good for him,” she admitted, running a hand through her immaculate, brown hair. “Roman, take some time off and rest. I can handle mission control for a bit. You certainly deserve it with all the all-nighters you’ve been pulling.”

Roman blinked in surprise, then began crying tears of joy. “Ren! You truly understand me!” he exclaimed as he turned back to the screen. “Thank you for your kindness! Thank you thank you thank you!” Then he froze as he suddenly got a finger pointed right at his forehead, forcing his eyes to go cross-eyed to keep it in view.

“How-e-ver-“ Da Vinci continued, emphasizing each syllable. “While watching Magi☆Mari is fine, if I hear you sacrificed what precious little sleep you get to watch her, I will personally block her from all of Chaldea’s systems, as well as induce sleep until you are reasonably rested. Am I clear on this, Doctor Romani Archaman?” Roman could only nod fearfully, unable to say a word.

Da Vinci’s smile softened. “Good,” she replied, withdrawing her finger. “Now get some rest, Roman. You have more than earned it.” Roman relaxed, sighed once more, and nodded. He got up and shuffled off, leaving Da Vinci to take the seat – before she turned around. “And no more coffee!” she called out. An off-screen groan could be heard through the speakers.

She faced her audience once more. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye out from here,” she reassured them. “Nero IS the rightful emperor of this time period, so it’s probably a good idea to help her out. But if you need anything else, I’ll be right here. Til then, ciao~!” With that, the communication ended.

Ren just stared at where the screen disappeared before slowly lowering his communicator. “You alright there, Joker?” Morgana asked worriedly.

He shook his head. “Just… wondering for the millionth time just what is my life,” he admitted.

“Really, you ought to be used to that by now. Or better yet, roll with it. It worked out relatively well for me.”

And the sound of the voice, Ren turned – and recoiled at the sight of Loki casually standing there. Their helmet was off, revealing their feminine yet eerily familiar features, and they were splattered all over with blood as they casually inspected their claws. “Honestly, given everything that’s been going on, strangeness is the new normal from what I can tell,” they commented casually.

“Do you have to show up covered head-to-toe in blood?!” Morgana snapped, glaring at Loki in equal parts anger and horror. “You look and act like some sort of serial killer! At least clean yourself up!”

Loki rolled their eyes. Their figure blurred as they changed back to their regular suit with all trace of bloodstains gone. “Leave it to a cat to be concerned about hygiene,” they muttered.

“Should I slap a talisman over their mouth?” Caster asked, walking up and glaring at the Avenger. “It would silence them for a good, long while. Perhaps permanently, if you allow me.” Her glare carried no small amount of venom towards Loki, who merely resumed inspecting their (gloved) hand.

“I had my mouth sewn shut by dwarves who had forged weapons for the gods,” they replied, unfazed as they fixed an amused glance at Tamamo. “What is that little piece of paper you have going to do to stop me?”

As Morgana and Tamamo continued to spit venom at Loki, Ren looked over to see Ritsu looking dazed. “Hey, Ritsu,” he called over, concerned. “You okay? Did you get hit?”

Ritsu blinked as Ren’s words caught her attention. She smiled – but Ren could immediately tell it was a forced one. “Oh yeah, just fine,” she replied cheerily. “Just, uh, wasn’t expecting things to be so… hectic, especially now that the adrenaline’s wearing off. I mean, whew, we, uh, almost died, didn’t we? Swords and arrows are a lot scarier and less cool when they’re aimed right at you. Aha… haha… ha…”

She took a shaky breath as the tremors in her body stilled. Then she faced Ren once more with a bright smile. “Come on, the emperor’s waiting for us! It’s not every day we get to be introduced by one!” Before Ren could respond, she ran off after Nero, Medusa and Joan silently following her like wraiths in the bright sun as Archer maintained a silent vigil.

Ren could only watch Ritsu leave and heard Morgana and Tamamo bicker even more with Loki. Mash looked between everyone worriedly, unable to figure out where to turn her attention to first. He sighed deeply.

The Singularity was off to a great start already. 

—-------

Introductions could’ve gone more smoothly. Nero had paraded them out in front and announced who they were and they were new auxiliaries. The soldiers grumbled and stared at them suspiciously but otherwise said nothing to object. It was hard to defy their own emperor after all, and especially someone with the bluster of Nero.

Once that was done, however, multiple soldiers marched up, reporting. Nero’s bright smile melted away, her expression growing serious as she listened to their report. Ren and Morgana stayed close to eavesdrop while Ritsu ogled over the Roman armor and Mash stayed close, trying to rein her in (unsuccessfully).

“Casualties?” Nero asked shortly.

“About two hundred dead, Imperator,” one of the soldiers replied. “Another hundred injured. We’re still uncertain as to how many will live through their injuries.”

“What of our medical supplies?” Nero asked in turn.

“Barely enough,” another soldier answered, grimacing. “The stores of herbs are running low, and we still have been unable to reestablish trade routes.”

“Scouts are also reporting in, Imperator,” a commander reported – or what looked like a commander, given the fancier designs on his armor. “Rome was not the only place they struck. They secured the southern docks as well as the city of Florence. It seems the enemy forces have secured control of the sea.”

The Emperor scowled as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Scavenge what you can from the enemy forces,” she ordered. “After that, regroup and we’ll fall back to Rome.” The soldiers and commander saluted, standing to attention with fists over their hearts, before marching off to carry out Nero’s commands.

Ren could only blink in surprise. The young woman in front of him was far different from the girl who had greeted them so cheerfully earlier. The stress in her face was clearly evident now as opposed to the hints he saw before. Her green eyes stared out at the blood-soaked battlefield before sighing. “Everything okay, Emperor Nero?”

Nero blinked in surprise before spinning back to Ren, a bright smile once more on her face. “Not to worry, Auxiliary Ren!” she declared. “It’s only a small setback! We will recover quickly in time for the next confrontation! And together, we shall restore the glory that is the Roman Empire!” Past Nero, Ren could see some of the soldiers look over at Nero at the end of that sentence. On their faces was some hope, some sadness, but mostly resignation.

“Now come!” she cried. “We return to the glorious city of Rome! Its beauty is hampered only by one aspect – it’s absence of me, the Emperor of Roses! Let us go!” With that, she strutted off, her soldiers once more flanking her as she marched through. The working soldiers immediately parted to allow the boastful emperor through, though Ren couldn’t help but notice her glancing to either side with some sadness.

“Jeez, she seems awfully full of herself,” Morgana murmured, loud enough only for those around him to hear.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect Nero to be like… well, that,” Ritsu agreed, raising an eyebrow at the retreating figure, her golden armor still gleaming visibly.

“I don’t think I was half as irritating as her back in Orleans,” Joan grumbled. She shot a glare at some nervous soldiers who immediately broke eye contact and scurried off to hurry to their tasks before she looked back with a huff.

Mash smiled nervously to the Lancer. “Well, you did disturb us in some other ways,” she stuttered. “But, um, Nero isn’t all that irritating. Perhaps she’s a little… much?”

“If that’s ‘much’, then everyone else must be as empty as this field,” the Lancer grumbled before stalking off. The Masters all looked at each other and shrugged. At least she didn’t seem intent on doing harm – she was just grumpy overall.

“Still,” Loki commented casually from right behind them, causing the small group to jump. “She does have a familiar expression on her face when she was talking to us.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ritsu asked, narrowing her eyes with trepidation.

The trickster god gave their signature sardonic grin. “Is it not obvious?” they asked, looking at Ren. “It’s the same smile you plaster on day in, day out. A rather brilliant smile in its complexity and purpose, don’t you think, Master?”

Ren froze as everyone turned to look towards him, their expressions questioning. He swallowed hard. “We should follow the Emperor,” he said, his throat feeling utterly dry. “We have a lot to talk about.” Before anyone could respond, he marched after Nero, ignoring the looks from soldiers as he passed by.

All he was aware of was Loki’s amused red eyes staring at Ren’s back.

—--------

Rome was surprisingly a short distance away – a few hours trek on foot. The sun had only started to set when they reached the city. Ritsu had been bouncing, obviously eager to see the glory of Rome, but as they approached, it was clear the city had seen better days. Around the city was a makeshift wall made of dirt, stakes, and rubble. There were buildings that were clearly dismantled, with the streets empty aside from marching soldiers and occasional citizens scurried about.

The Chaldean group (aside from Loki) looked at each other, wondering how to broach the topic. Even the least observant person could tell that Rome wasn’t nearly as glorious as history – or Nero – was making it out to be. Nero, however, glanced behind her and noticed their reactions. “Ah, I see Rome hasn’t captured your hearts and minds,” she quickly deduced with a smile. “It is but a temporary lapse. Once we are victorious, Rome shall quickly be restored to its former glory!”

The soldiers who were marching with them – an escort company, with the majority still scavenging and reorganizing on the field – all had mixed reactions. Some of them nodded confidently, some of them kept stoic expressions, others couldn’t help but sigh tiredly. Ren glanced about at the buildings once more. 

Questions after questions formed. How long had Nero and her forces been fighting? What they had been fighting?

“Er, Emperor Nero?” Morgana piped up. “How long have you and your forces been fighting? And… who ARE you fighting anyway? Is it a civil war?”

Nero froze for a second, as did the soldiers around them. Then she recovered her usual bluster, grinning. “Nothing more nor less than the enemies of Rome itself!” she declared proudly. “They may carry Roman symbols and wear Roman armor and use similar tactics, but they are not part of the empire in the slightest! They are nothing more than lackluster vagabonds that we shall throw off and show they are nothing but mere pretenders!”

Ren and Morgana both frowned. That told them absolutely nothing whatsoever. “And how long have you guys been fighting?” Ren asked carefully. “How strong are they?”

The emperor huffed. “Considerably powerful but nothing beyond our ability to handle,” she replied. “We have been fighting for the better part of a year now, but each and every time we have shrugged off their forces! It is simply a matter of regaining our momentum and striking back!”

That still didn’t convince him for a second. “But-“ Ren was about to ask again.

Nero whirled on Ren and stopped with a serious expression, one he had only seen when she had been talking to her troops earlier. “I will answer what questions you have, Ren Amamiya, but not here,” she murmured. “The truths of a war should not be spoken in a place of relative peace for everyone to hear. Come. Once you have rested for the evening, I shall answer all your questions and we can plan in earnest what we must do.”

Ren closed his mouth in surprise, more from Nero’s change in expression and tone than her words. Though he had his suspicions, that confirmed it – the smile and confidence she wore was like the golden armor she wore, to show off strength, confidence, and reassurance to herself and her allies. But just for a bit, her mask slipped. It was an all-too-familiar act that he himself had to perform, for the sake of himself and everyone around him.

Once more, he could feel Loki’s smirk and eyes burning into him. He didn’t dare turn to face them.

As they moved through the streets, Nero looked over to Morgana and smiled. She nodded towards him to indicate she wanted to talk with him. Morgana approached apprehensively. “What is it?” he asked warily.

“You don’t happen to be a magnificent creation of a fan of mine are you?” she murmured, her eyes glittering with excitement.

That question caught Morgana flat-footed. “I- what?!” he cried, blinking in surprise. “What kind of question is that?!”

The emperor grinned. “Your voice resembles mind flawlessly!” she replied brightly. “Either that or you were gifted by the gods to carry my voice as well! Either way, you are truly a creature of magnificence and it must not be understated!”

Morgana blinked rapidly in surprise before catching Ren and Ritsu – and both of them were looking between him and Nero. “You know, I can hear it too now that she mentions it,” Ritsu slowly commented.

Ren nodded, a grin slowly spreading on his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Really, Morgana, to have the same voice as an emperor. It must be a huge compliment to you.”

“Er, no – I mean yes!” he spluttered when Nero turned her gaze back on him. “But I’m, er, it’s gotta be a coincidence, I mean, there’s no way that’s, uh- Help me out here!”

Nero grinned as she scooped up Morgana. “Such a magnificent creature bearing my voice has come as my ally!” she declared. “Surely it’s a good omen! Come! We must celebrate this joyous occasion!” With that, she marched off with Morgana in her arms as the catlike being roared in protest.

Ren and Ritsu looked at each other. “Does she know black cats are normally bad luck?” Ritsu asked curiously.

The Phantom Thief shrugged. “I won’t tell her if you won’t,” he replied casually.

—-------

The Emperor’s palace was quite decadent – a gigantic building sitting in the heart of Rome, with soaring columns and architecture. Much of it was intricately carved, lined with exotic marble with statues lining the halls. It was ‘only’ two stories, but it covered such a vast swathe of land in Rome that honestly, that didn’t matter much. Plus the ceilings were ponderously high, giving a further feel to the vastness and size of the place. Their footsteps even echoed throughout the halls and rooms, to the Masters’ and Mash’s amazement.

However, Ren and Morgana quickly noticed that despite the sheer decadence of the palace, it was in worse condition than they had expected. There were only a few soldiers guarding the place, and they worked with what few staff remaining to maintain the place, seemingly, cleaning to tidying or helping with some other small chores. Indeed, many of the braziers and torches remained unlit despite the setting sun, lending a surprisingly forsaken air to the residence of someone like Nero.

They were shown to their guest rooms. As expected of an Emperor of Rome, there were more than enough rooms to accommodate all of them - save the Servants, but all of them, even Loki, denied any accommodations. Joan was about to deny them as well but was overridden by Ritsu.

“Nuh uh, you’re an incarnated Servant,” she snapped, her finger right between Joan’s eyes. “You eat, sleep, and breathe like a person at this point, not a ghost liner. You get a room, end of story!”

“Umu!” Nero affirmed with a nod of agreement. “The others may not require my hospitality, but I must ask you do not insult me further when you do need a place of relaxation! This place shall be your home until you set out, and I insist you use it!”

The Lancer Servant looked helplessly between the two girls before glancing over at Ren. “Can you give me even a bit of help here?!” she snapped.

Ren gave a resigned smile as Morgana chuckled. “Do you really think I can do anything about them?” he asked helplessly as he crossed his arms. “Honestly, you might as well just accept it, Joan – you’re getting some of the best rooms in ancient Rome and they’re not taking no for an answer.”

Joan’s eyes widened in rage before turning back to the two girls – and saw their intense eyes boring into her, matching her rage with their insistence. Finally, she groaned in frustration. “Damnit!” she roared before sulkily following the others, both Nero and Ritsu smirking.

The bedrooms themselves were decadent as well – large rooms with balconies facing outside so they could see the Italian countryside without issue. A single queen sized bed lined with pure, embroidered white fabrics and covers. Carefully carved furniture with bowls of fresh fruits laid out. Couches set up for anyone to lay down and recline. It was indeed the height of luxury.

The Masters’ jaws dropped once more. “Um… th-thank you for your kindness, Emperor,” Ritsu stammered, taken aback. “Er, pardon my – or our shock,” she added after glancing at Ren and Morgana. “This is our first time in such, uh, comfort.”

Nero grinned and stood straighter. “Ha, were we not at war, I would’ve shown you true imperial hospitality,” she cried. “Nevertheless, I thank you for your praise! If there is anything you require from me, name it! I shall do my utmost to fulfill it, auxiliaries!”

Ren thought about it for a second. Then he remembered one small thing about Roman culture. “Do you have baths?” he asked. Romans had bathhouses and honestly, it sounded like a luxury he needed right about now. Chaldea’s showers were fine but compared to the bathhouse that used to be in front of LeBlanc, it just didn’t feel quite as relaxing.

The emperor blinked in surprise, then grinned. “Of course!” she declared. “As a lover of baths myself, I even had one installed in the Palace! Do you wish to go now? I shall show you!”

The Master shook his head. “Maybe later tonight,” he replied with a relieved grin. “But I’ll definitely take advantage of it. My greatest thanks, emperor Nero.” At the gratitude, Nero could only puff herself even greater in pride.

Mash blinked at the mention of a bath. Public baths were a common thing in history but experiencing one was a different story. She wondered if she could take one… then she glanced over at Ren who looked enthusiastic at the idea and immediately shook her head, turning as red as a cherry. No. No! There was no way she could join him in a bath! It wouldn’t be proper! Perhaps another time would be ideal!

Behind her, however, Caster looked between the two, a smile curling the corners of her lips. Oh? This was certainly interesting. She had only been recently summoned but aside from Loki, she had been keeping tabs on her Masters. They were good children. Ren in particular. In another life, she might have considered him a husband. However, even she could see that on his shoulders rested weights that even Servants would find too heavy to bear.

The blush on Mash’s cheeks, however… she was meant to protect the Masters. However, perhaps she could help shoulder that weight. All she needed was a little push.

Loki in the meantime was perched up on one of the ledges, sitting up against a pillar and observing everything with an amused smirk. Well, things are certainly far more interesting than they ever expected even at first glance.

“I hope you are not planning on causing trouble, Loki.”

They casually glanced over at Archer who stood nearby. Though he seemed relatively relaxed, they knew that he would summon his twin blades within a split second should they so much as blink wrong. A fate Loki was honestly unconcerned with as they languidly turned their gaze back on their Masters. “Now why would I do something like that?” they remarked. “They seem in plenty of trouble as is. I hardly need to contribute.”

Archer narrowed his eyes at the Avenger. “What are you planning, Loki?” he asked bluntly.

Loki let out a bark of laughter, quickly putting a fist in front of his mouth to mute themself. “Of course, Archer, I’ll gladly tell you all my plans,” they replied, their tone laden with amused sarcasm. “All you had to do was ask nicely. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Loki noted Archer’s hands tightening, ready to summon his blades any second. Really, he was easier to provoke than they expected.

They relaxed more against the pillar. “I believe I made myself already clear, Archer,” they replied. “I only wish to be entertained. A few prods here and there are the most you’ll expect from me. Otherwise, I’m content to play my role as an obedient little Servant – go there, fight that, butcher those enemies, you get the picture.”

“And why should I believe you?” Archer asked sharply. “You haven’t exactly proven yourself trustworthy.”

The Avenger once more laughed, looking back up at Archer. “Well, that’s the stickler now, isn’t it?” they asked rhetorically before turning his gaze back once more.

The red-mantled hero glared down at the smirking Avenger, then sighed. “Do as you wish then,” he growled. “Our Master trusts you. Do not betray that trust.”

Once more, Loki chuckled as Archer vanished into spirit form with a shower of golden dust. Oh, their Masters were many things. Trustful, cunning, intelligent, brave, afraid, kind, and many more. And they were foolish. Oh, so very foolish.

Ah, what a boundless fount of entertainment Chaldea was already.

—-------

Dinner had been a surprisingly low-key affair – some bread and cheese with some fruits. Nero had profusely apologized for the rather meagre fare. Much of the food stores had been rationed out to the soldiers and remaining citizens of Rome. Even their beloved emperor had been eating no better than them at this point. However, Nero didn’t seem to be too down about it, more worried about Chaldea than her own diet.

“While an emperor normally dines on the rarest of delicacies and the finest cuisines, they must also be more than prepared for lean times,” Nero declared. “Not to worry! Even with these paltry dishes, I will still be glorious as always!” Ren could only shake his head at that. Honestly, he couldn’t tell if Nero was confident, arrogant, or just outright delusional. Probably some combination thereof.

Later on, Ren decided to take Nero’s offer of a bath. Asking the guard standing outside his door, he was led down multiple halls and upstairs to the bath on the third floor. Ren stepped into the bath chamber and blinked. It was huge and spacious – about the size of Shujin’s gym. The floors were marble, with statues on each side of the bath itself. A wide-open balcony facing the countryside made up an entire wall of the chamber with furniture for relaxation and reclining.

The bath itself was no slouch either. It was the size of a swimming pool with a statue right in the middle, fountaining steaming hot water into the bath. It was lined with carefully carved stone, with steps that gradually got deeper, with the deepest level being at the fountain itself where one could submerge their head if they were standing.

However, that wasn’t what caught his attention. Partitions were erected within the bath itself. They looked incredibly makeshift, clashing horribly with the lavish décor of literally everything else. The statue had holes that looked like they were supposed to all pour water, but only a quarter of the bath was filled. The rest was bone-dry.

Ren frowned. Definitely an odd design choice. Was this part of the singularity’s consequences? Discarding the thought, he decided to just focus on the bath for now. He looked about. There didn’t look to be anything where he could rinse off his body first before he entered. He was uncomfortable with the thought of not rinsing before entering the bath, but it couldn’t be helped.

Sighing, he took off his clothes, putting them on a nearby table beside the bath. He shivered slightly as his skin met the open air. Though it was a warm evening, a cool breeze from the balcony still raised goosebumps on his exposed skin. He stepped into the water and winced. Ryuji would definitely be cursing at the temperature. The water was hotter than he expected. He lowered himself slowly and carefully into the water, bearing with the temperature as best as he could. Finally, he submerged up to his shoulders and sighed in relaxation, feeling all his muscles loosening up.

This feeling was nostalgic. He hadn’t had a bath like this in a while now. The last time was over at LeBlanc before he made his way back to his hometown. He washed up for the morning before taking the train back. That was… a bit more than a month ago now.

He blinked as he thought about it. Had it really been only that short a time since he came home from Tokyo? It felt like a lifetime ago now. Even before he came to Chaldea, he had trouble believing everything that happened over the past year. Sure, he still had his friends and Morgana always proving it happened, but… it felt like something from a dream. Or a nightmare. It was hard to tell which was which.

And now he was at Chaldea, trapped in a situation that honestly made last year’s adventures look like a child’s playground in comparison. It certainly boggled his imagination. Once everything was resolved, would his friends ever believe him? Would he even believe it once he left Chaldea? That was going to be a hard question to answer. No doubt the others would want to know about Chaldea too. What would he tell them? What could he tell them?

Ren sighed, relaxing further into the water. As he ruminated over countless thoughts, he didn’t notice a second presence entering his vicinity. The water cascading down from the fountain concealed the sound of them entering the water as well. “Are you enjoying the bath, my guest?”

He nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, it’s wonderful,” he sighed. “Haven’t had one in a while so this feels like absolute heaven.” Then he froze. Who else would be in the bath with him? And that was definitely a girl’s voice. “Er, and, uh, it’s usually good manners to let someone know you’re entering a bath, at least where I’m from” he quickly added. It was a bit of a lie but he needed an out for this scenario.

A soft giggle met his ears. “Really now?” they replied, amused. “Why would an emperor need to announce her presence in her own bath?”

Ren gulped and chanced a glance. Soft, smooth, supple skin, tantalizing curves barely concealed by long, golden hair cascading down her back, amused green eyes with a soft smile, unlike the bold grins she had when she dealt with them earlier. She was standing closer to the fountain, wiping her long, slender arm with a cloth. It was unmistakable who was in the bath with him.

Emperor Nero.

Chapter Text

Olga sighed as she relaxed in the Velvet Room, leaning up against a wall. It had been a hard day (or was it night? Time was an odd concept in here) for her. Her magic circuits burned in her body – the telltale sign that she had used magecraft. When Ren saved the portion of her mind and memories, he also managed to save a bit of her soul as well. The soul was where magic circuits were engraved, so thankfully she managed to retain use of her magecraft. As for her crest, they were able to restore that too.

That part she was slightly miffed about. Crests were supposed to be a specialized, dedicated secret. They certainly couldn’t be replicated easily without some unsavory acts in the Moonlit World. But frankly, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She could continue utilizing her Animusphere magecraft as needed. And now she was using it to work on a personal project with Igor’s permission.

“My, you certainly have been busy,” came a high-pitched masculine voice.

The new attendant glanced over blinking as Igor and Lavenza stepped forward. The former has his perpetual grin as he gracefully strode across the floor with his arms behind his back. Lavenza followed close behind, the sizeable Compendium tucked under her arm. It was clear the two had come to check in on her out of curiosity.

The section of the Velvet Room was much like the main room – a smaller panopticon prison, with empty cells lining the circular room. However, it was missing the carpet as well as Igor’s desk in the middle, leaving the room looking incredibly barren. But that worked for Olga – she had asked for an empty room to work with. If she needed furnishings, she had no doubt Igor would’ve supplied them. And more importantly, the two of them was staring curiously up at the new addition to the room:

Instead of a ceiling, the chamber opened up into an infinite night sky, with orbiting planets and glimmering stars.

Olga nodded wearily as she got up from the wall. “I thought I could use some of the Animusphere magecraft and combine it with the power of the Velvet Room,” she explained as her gaze turned above. “It seems that shifting the planets and constellations here can also shift cognition – which in turn affects personas. At least, that’s the theory.” She frowned as she crossed her arms, still looking toward the artificial stars.

“An intriguing concept,” Lavenza marveled. “Humanity has long used the stars and planets to chart out paths – be it of travel, time, or of fate itself. Their effect on cognition cannot be overstated.” The girl glanced back down at Olga with a smile. “Truly an ingenious idea,” she complimented. “I had not expected your studies to bear fruit so quickly. I commend you, Olga. We had not considered such an opportunity ourselves.”

The mage waved off the compliment. “It’s the least I can do,” she dismissed. “Nor is it complete yet. I still have to add various constellations and other stars, figure out their movements and how to manipulate them, and most importantly, just what kind of effects they would have on personas.”

She sighed as she ran a hand through her silver hair. “I’ll have to do more studying and research,” she grumbled. “As well as run some experiments as well. If you’ve any star charts I can utilize, it would be greatly appreciated. Perhaps any documentation about constellations and navigational charts throughout history as well. I believe a few civilizations had-“

“Peace, my dear,” Igor cut in, raising a hand to quiet her. “You have done much in a short span of time. You deserve to rest a bit. Perhaps we can take some time to admire the stars?”

Olga blinked in surprise, then glared. “There’s no time for that!” she snapped. “Every minute, every second I waste is another that could go towards saving humanity! There’s more that I can do here, whatever it takes to help Amamiya succeed no matter what! Or perhaps something that would give not just him, but all of us an edge if necessary! I may have discarded my role as the director of Chaldea, but that does not mean my responsibility is any less-“

“Is this responsibility, my dear?” Igor asked, his soft tone freezing her rant cold. “Or is it guilt?”

“G-guilt?” the former director stammered. “What do you mean by guilt?”

Lavenza stepped forward, an expression of concern. “We are aware of many things,” she murmured. “Including your past, Olga Marie Animusphere.” Olga shuddered. Lavenza the last time called her by her full name was when she first woke up panicking in the Velvet Room.

“You were neglected in the past by your father, then had a tremendous burden placed on your shoulders by his passing,” she continued. “You did your absolute best despite all the ridicule and scorn heaped on you, then betrayed by who you thought was your beloved mentor and saved by a man you had initially scorned.”

Olga winced. They weren’t wrong, which was the worst part. The leader of Team A, Kirchtaria Wodime, was favored to be the heir of the Animusphere family instead of her. No matter how hard she studied or tried to prove herself, she was always in his shadow, to the point where her father treated her as nonexistent.

Then when he died, she became director by default. She puffed herself up and did her due diligence as much as she could, but she wasn’t deaf. She heard the words spoken behind her back as she struggled: her position gained only by nepotism, her utter incompatibility and failure to be a Master, her incompetence compared to Wodime. During that time, she relied on Lev Lainur for comfort and support. Ever since she was young, he had guided her and taught her. She regarded him more as a father than her own father ever had been.

And in the end, the man – the demon - only laughed madly as he tried to cast her into the flaming orb of CHALDEAS, bound to suffer forevermore. Her last pillar of support was gone just like that. It was only by a desperate attempt by Ren Amamiya, a person she had initially dismissed – and even slapped – that saved her from damnation.

Her life had been one cruel irony after another, with no chance to step out of anyone’s shadows, without a chance to prove herself and her own qualities. Here was her second chance. Was she about to falter here once more?

Her rumination was interrupted as Lavenza walked forward, placing her tiny hand on her own. The coolness of her touch brought her back to her senses. “You have worked so hard and undergone so many cruel trials,” Lavenza murmured. “Comparable to many of our guests – even the Trickster. But you need not push yourself so hard here. So please, do not torment yourself by believing what you are doing isn’t enough.”

“We do require your strength in days to come,” Igor gently added in. “And reasonably pushing your limits is greatly encouraged. However, you have done plenty already. To continue further like this will only harm yourself. Neither our dear guest nor we wish that to come to pass.”

Olga blinked in surprise. Their reassurances and words, trying to dissuade her from pushing herself to such an insane degree, were warm and worried. It was a contrast compared to the cold demeanor her father and fellow mages had given her, or the sickly-sweet compliments her peers used to butter her up or ingratiate into her good graces – that was, until rumors circulated that Wodime was to be the Animusphere heir as opposed to her. After that, it had been nothing but jeers.

Thus, the ever sharp-tongued girl was at a loss for words. Her lips moved but weren’t able to form the words to properly speak. She didn’t know whether to retort or argue or even to thank them. She didn’t know what to do.

Lavenza smiled sympathetically. “You are without a doubt a diligent worker and will make a fine attendant,” she said confidently. “More than worthy of the Trickster’s attentions.” Ignoring the now spluttering Olga, she turned to an empty corner of the room. “No doubt right now he is doing all he can to fix the singularities,” she continued. “Let us witness his progress, shall we? Perhaps it might relax you.” With a wave of her hand, the air in front of her shimmered, revealing…

“Oh,” Lavenza gasped, her hands raising to her mouth. “Oh my.”

Olga on the other hand was far less reserved. “AMAMIYA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?” she screeched, her eyes almost bulging out of her sockets as she somehow grabbed the incorporeal window and was trying to shake it. “YOU’RE FLIRTING WITH YET ANOTHER WOMAN?! IN THE BATH?!? AND IT’S THE EMPEROR OF ROME NOW?!? FIRST MASH THEN FUJIMARU THEN THE QUEEN OF FRANCE?!?!? DOES YOUR DEPRAVITY KNOW NO LIMTS?!? ANSWER ME, AMAMIYA!”

Igor meanwhile took one look through the window, turned around, and proceeded to stroll out with Olga’s outraged screams echoing behind him. The guest’s brew was quite delightful when he brought back a sample to the Velvet Room. Perhaps another cup was in order.

Ren gulped as he tried not to stare at Nero who was calmly washing herself in the bath, wiping her body of the dirt and grim of the day’s labors. He looked about desperately, trying to find an escape or leave. Nero glanced over and giggled slightly. “Are you shy about seeing me?” she asked rhetorically. “Don’t be. My body is a gift granted to me by the divine Venus, after all. Do gaze upon its beauty – it is perfection, after all.”

The Phantom Thief cleared his throat as he forced his panic – and even more alarmingly, his arousal – down as he continued to look everywhere but her direction. “Er, in my country, it is considered extraordinarily rude to stare at someone of the opposite gender in a bath,” he quickly made the excuse. “Or just staring in general. So please don’t take it as an insult if I’m trying extremely hard not to look.”

Nero huffed. “How prudish of your country,” she grumbled before shrugging. She moved to a wall – a distance away from Ren, much to his relief – and sat down, sighing in relaxation as she submerged up to her shoulders, eyes closed. Ren chanced a glance. Thankfully, with the opaqueness of the water and the steam, he couldn’t see anything underneath the surface.

He considered his options. He considered leaving the bath, but with Nero there she would definitely see his more… important parts, which he really didn’t feel like exposing at the moment even if she was okay. Not to mention, it would be rather rude of him to bail when she had just joined him in the bath so willingly. She might take it as an insult, and he’d rather not have to deal with that at the moment.

Ren mentally cursed. No matter how he thought about it, he was basically stuck here at the pleasure of Nero.

Deciding to keep his mind off things, he decided to broach a topic. “So, what’s with these partitions?” Ren asked out of curiosity, nodding towards the walled-off sections of the bath. “Seems a bit… out of place in such a luxurious environment.”

Nero opened an eye and looked toward the indicated makeshift walls. She sighed. “Most of the water that has been normally pumped for my baths has been directed back towards Rome instead,” she explained, closing her eye once more. “I kept this little section for my own use. Considering the water shortages, it would not do for me to continue hoarding vast amounts of it for mere luxury, emperor or no.”

That took Ren by surprise. He remembered from his history lessons that Nero was known for his (her?) decadence and waste, like commissioning luxurious, expensive baths, using them once, then tearing them down. There were other things he learned about Nero, but they were quickly already melting away. “Is the situation that bad?” he asked earnestly, looking over at Nero in concern.

The emperor opened her eyes. Her playful green eyes had turned serious and the smile she wore was gone. “How much do you know about statecraft, auxiliary Amamiya?” she asked. The tone was calm and without a hint of condescension.

The Phantom Thief blinked and shook his head. “A little bit but honestly not much,” he admitted. While he was leader of the Phantom Thieves, that didn’t exactly give him a lot of experience in running a country. Even social studies and history lessons didn’t exactly delve into the greatest detail – and that was assuming he remembered any of it once the subject matter passed by.

Nero nodded, relaxing back into the bath. “An empire requires many things to run,” she explained, closing her eyes once more. “Much of it comes down to fundamentals: Food, water, shelter. However, from there it always branches out into myriad questions and trials, and that branches out even further, and so on and so forth.”

Ren blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Sighing, the emperor opened her eyes again, staring at the ceiling. “Where would our food come from?” she asked rhetorically. “Who would collect and maintain it? Supervise it? Who would transport the food? How would they get paid? How would we deal with land, seasons, and drought? Where can we grow our food? How would we defend the farmlands from wolves, bandits, and enemy soldiers? Is there a possibility of higher yield farmland we could seize? What about tools? Is metal readily available for smithing tools as necessary? Could inventions be made to produce higher yields?”

She glanced over at Ren. “That is but one facet of what an emperor must handle,” she explained. “There are many other questions dealing with other resources as well. Some considerably more complex yet are nevertheless essential to making sure Rome and the Empire remain prosperous and beautiful. And these questions become even harder to answer when it is wartime.”

Ren could only nod slowly. Even just that line of questioning had his mind swimming a bit. This wasn’t his forte and his mind was tripping over finding answers to such questions. He had no doubt Makoto would be far better about it, but it required no small amount of knowledge to answer. He was definitely out of his depth here – running an empire was definitely not part of his studies, either in school or in the Metaverse.

“It definitely sounds like an issue,” Ren replied carefully. What else could he say at the moment?

Nero hummed. “Umu, that it is,” she agreed. There was a moment’s pause as they both simply soaked in the bath. Then Nero spoke up again. “Tell me, what do you think of Rome?” she asked.

The question caught him off guard. He considered heavily. Nero seemed to be extraordinarily proud of Rome and the empire, and all that it entailed. Why would she ask him such a question though? Did she want his opinion of it or was she looking for perhaps more praise? Or was there another reason? Nero was considered a mad tyrant by history – what if the wrong answer meant his death? He had to be careful here.

“It’s a beautiful city,” Ren replied earnestly. “I’d love to explore it if I could. The architecture is quite magnificent and-“

He was stopped by Nero waving a hand in dismissal. “You need not assume such pretentions,” she sighed. “Although I love Rome with all my heart and Rome reciprocates fully, I’m not blind either. Speak candidly.”

That caught him off guard. Okay, maybe he could’ve done a better job of selling his point. Still, he had to be cautious in case Nero took any offense to his words. “It… definitely has seen better days,” he answered cautiously, keeping a careful eye on Nero to gauge her reaction. “It was probably glorious in its heyday, but that’s certainly not the case right now. It seems a lot more… ruined than I expected, to be honest.”

Nero nodded sadly. “Yes, that’s about the right of it,” she murmured, running a hand through her golden hair tiredly. “This war has been sapping our resources – what little we can spare at this point anyway. Many things, from quarries to mines to farmlands, are currently occupied by the enemy. Even the ones we currently have access to, the roads that would carry supplies are harried by enemy forces, bandits, and some other manner of beasts.”

Ren remembered the time back in Japan when the psychotic breakdowns were always on the news, particularly the news stories where the subway trains were constantly crashing, leading to massive traffic jams. Sojiro especially grumbled about it when he tried to drive him back from Shujin after introducing Ren to the teachers and principal.

“So even traffic delays are a thing in ancient Rome, huh?” he murmured to himself, slightly amused despite it all.

“Did you say something, auxiliary?” Nero asked curiously, looking over.

Ren shook his head with a smile. “No, it’s nothing,” he replied honestly. “I can certainly see how that would be an issue though.”

Nero gave Ren an odd look, then dismissed it with a shrug. She stood up from the bath, forcing Ren to look away once more while again suppressing his desire. Without giving a second glance at him, she stepped out of the bath and walked toward the balcony, taking a towel nearby and wiping herself off. After a few minutes, Ren chanced a glance back at Nero to see if she was dressed. And indeed, she was.

If ‘dressed’ meant essentially a strip of transparent red cloth, edged with gold, that draped over her shoulders loosely and covered only her chest and between her legs – and nothing else. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, thankfully covering a great deal of her form, but it was still a tantalizing figure nevertheless that forced Ren to once more look away.

“So, what are the forces we’re fighting against then?” Ren asked as he struggled to keep his bodily functions under control.

Nero poured herself a cup of wine from a pitcher and a goblet that sat nearby. “Is it not obvious?” she asked. “We fight against Romans. An enemy that knows the empire inside and out, knows how we function, how we structure our troops, the lands we have, and more.” She took a sip of the wine as she stepped closer to the balcony and stared out, seemingly not caring about the cool breeze. “It is truly a vexing problem; one we need to resolve one way or another.”

Ren blinked. “A civil war?” he asked. Those weren’t exactly uncommon for a lot of nations. Japan itself went through quite a few of them throughout its history, like the Warring States period. What he recalled about the Roman Empire was that it often had to deal with the same thing, coupled with a lot of backstabbing from various senators or the Praetorian Guard. Caesar’s assassination was the most infamous but there were plenty of others as well.

The emperor laughed – a bitter sound unlike her clearer, mirthful laughter from earlier in the day. “If only it were that simple,” she replied. Ren awaited an answer but it didn’t seem forthcoming. “Come here, auxiliary.”

The command caught Ren by surprise yet again. He stepped out of the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist, wondering if he had time to put on his clothes as well. Just as he was about to walk over for the clothes, Nero turned her head slightly in his direction. He gulped – she was expecting him, and he had a sinking feeling she didn’t wish to wait.

Making his way carefully over so he didn’t slip, shivering at the feel of the cold marble against his feet, he joined Nero on the balcony. The balcony opened to the rest of the palace below them, then the city of Rome, stretching on for as far as he could see – at least, as far as he could in the darkness. “Tell me, what do you see?” the emperor asked.

Ren squinted as he tried to make out some details. “I see some soldiers marching in the streets,” he murmured, picking out as many details as he could. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and allowed him to pick out some more details. “A good number of buildings and architecture. Um… that’s really all I can see.” He had no choice but to admit defeat there. It was simply too dark to see more details. He turned back to see Nero scrutinizing him closely, her green eyes staring hard at him.

Then Nero once again gave a bitter laugh. “It is exactly as you say, auxiliary,” she replied. “At this time of night, the streets would still be bustling – you would see the flow of people going to taverns or brothels, visiting markets. Many of these buildings would be lit up as people lived in them, for good or ill. It was a place of warmth and of life. That was Rome – for all its achievements, for all its splendor and beauty, the crown jewel of the city and of the empire, were its people.”

She leaned against the railing. “The sounds of life and jubilation would often reach my ears,” she murmured, her eyes misty in recollection. “And of course, the theater. Ah, the acts and drama, the cheers and tears of the audience. To be able to move the feelings of an audience – be they rich or poor, young or old, from all different walks of life – is truly a marvel of its own.”

The emperor smiled, then grimaced, holding her head. Ren looked over in surprise, immediately ignoring her lightly clothed state. “Nero? You okay?” he asked worriedly.

She smiled, though it still looked more like a grimace. “It’s a bout of headache,” she replied, her tone a bit faint. “It shall pass. I thank you for your concern though, auxiliary.” She turned back to stare out over the city. “Better to focus on what can be done than what cannot,” she murmured.

Despite her pain, she smiled as she swept a hand over the city. “Once we have won this war, life shall come back to the empire and the city,” she declared. “I will pen a fine epic to commemorate the whole war, and I myself shall perform it in theaters! Umu! It shall be the most fitting way to celebrate our victory and triumph! I trust only myself to convey the emotions and extraordinary actions in our tale!”

Ren blinked in surprise and smiled. “You’re a huge fan of the theater, I take it?” he asked rhetorically.

Nero turned to him fully now with a broad grin. “Not merely a huge fan,” she correctly brightly. “Aside from my duties as an emperor, it is my one true love throughout my life! A singer, a director, a writer, I am all that and more, as befit the Emperor of Roses! Auxiliary Ren Amamiya, for indulging in my conversations and being a most splendid and welcome guest, you shall have firsthand experience of my talents right now!”

The Phantom Thief smiled – when he remembered another historical fact: That when Nero performed, he(she?) was so bad that people were leaving throughout the performance, enough that the emperor ordered the exits barred so they couldn’t exit – or rather, escape.

And here he was, point blank, about to experience that historical fact in full force as Nero took a deep breath. “Er, emperor Nero, I really don’t think it’s necessary-“ Ren hurriedly interjected.

Too late. Nero sang, and the only thing Ren knew after was pain.

As the sun set, the light gave way to a void glistening with stars in the void above, shrouding the world in darkness. The city itself barely illuminated by what few lights remaining from patrols or people in their homes. A full moon hovered in the night sky, illuminating everything in a dim, mystical light. The shadows stretched long under the moonlight, lending an air of mystery to the locale. It was a scenic sight.

One that Joan took in for a bit before going back to her book. She sat on the windowsill, using the moonlight to see better. The braziers had been put out – they were harder to extinguish than regular lights and reading by candlelight would have been difficult. The moonlight worked well enough for her purposes here, and she didn’t exactly feel like reading in bed anyway.

She had taken a book about Roman society before leaving for the excursion (with Medusa and Da Vinci’s permission) and was reading up on it. Compared to the time she lived, the Roman Empire was both more and less… developed than she expected. The more organized structures and military as well as architectural innovations and wonders compared to the rather rough formations of soldiers and knights she ‘remembered’ as a saint as well as the rougher castles of her time.

But even then, there was no small amount of backstabbing and politics between all the noble factions, infighting, alliances for ones’ own benefit, and more. That, she was more than familiar with. She had to smile bitterly as she remembered the whole bit of Hundred Years’ War and what she studied from the books in Chaldea’s library. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, it seemed.

The conversation between her and the original Jeanne had been… enlightening. Since Joan’s memories were artificial and only comprised of her trial and subsequent execution, the most she had to go on were her either faint impressions (such as the food she normally ate) or from those books as well as her experiences from her brief time in Orleans. Speaking with Jeanne filled in no small number of gaps as the saint related her experiences when she had been alive.

Details about the soldiers she fought alongside and ate with, generals she strategized with as well as her impressions, the various nobles and kings she met… those were the experiences Joan had been missing. True, hearing Jeanne talking about them warmly only got the Lancer more annoyed, but she suppressed it. Jeanne was who she was and had accepted that. Joan was still trying to figure everything out. Who was she to judge at this point?

“Do you really need to keep an eye on me?” Joan muttered, not lifting her eyes from her book.

There was a moment pause before Tamamo appeared in a golden shower. “Oh please, you are hardly worth the personal attention,” she huffed, not even facing Joan as she scanned a wall. “I’m merely making sure my talismans were doing their job.”

“And what would that be?” Joan asked skeptically, glancing up from her book.

“Keeping out assassins and warding off spies,” Tamamo replied easily. “And Loki.”

Joan paused, then nodded. Fair enough on that front. Nobody liked that smirking imp in the slightest. Why their Master thought it would be a good idea to bring them was frankly beyond any of the group. All they could do was make sure the Avenger didn’t do too much damage.

Tamamo glanced back at Joan. “I don’t believe we have been introduced yet,” she commented. She gave a respectful bow to the Lancer, her tail moving to the side. “I am Tamamo-no-Mae, a Caster Servant, contracted under Chaldea. And you are?”

The false saint narrowed her eyes at Tamamo, then sighed heavily. Much as she wanted to get back to reading, knowing who she was fighting alongside was the least she could do. Not really knowing or attempting to get along with her Servants led to a whole host of complications back in Orleans, after all. “Lancer, Jeanne d’Arc Alter,” she grumbled out, knowing the inevitable slew of questions incoming. “Just call me Joan.”

The Caster blinked in surprise as her fox ears twitched. “You’re a Servant? And an Alter at that?” she asked skeptically. “I can’t sense you are one, yet you do not seem to be lying. An Alter of Jeanne d’Arc… How is that possible?”

Joan sighed. “It’s a damn long story that I really don’t want to recount tonight,” she growled, waving off the question. “If you want the long version, ask Amamiya, the cat, or the shield girl. The short version: I was created to be the destroyer of France as some cocked-up revenge scheme based on the Maid of Orleans, then was incarnated. Damn if I know why it happened, but here I am making amends. Satisfied?”

Tamamo’s eyes widened. Then she sighed. “You don’t seem to be the type to lie,” she murmured in response, her agitated tail waving a clear sign of her turmoil. “Though such a tale begets many questions. I will not pry, though I must admit I’m quite curious. It is an uncommon situation, to be sure.”

The Lancer rolled her eyes. “Get in line,” she grumbled. “If anything, our Masters are far weirder than I am. And before you ask, no, I’m not about to get into detail about them. Ask them – I can barely understand it myself.”

Ears perking up, she stared curiously over at Joan. “What gives you that opinion?” she asked curiously. She already had a feeling that the Masters she had been summoned to weren’t ordinary, even by magi standards. However, her intuition told her that Joan wasn’t understating it in the slightest. So what made them so unique after all?

Joan blinked in surprise, then clicked her tongue while running a hand through her white hair. “Not my place to tell,” she replied flatly. “Ask them or don’t – not my business at this point.”

The Caster’s tail swished in annoyance at the dismissal, but she got the point. The Lancer wasn’t about to tell her because either she didn’t know or she couldn’t answer. She sighed as she went back to checking the talismans and making sure they were intact. “Still, to be incarnated is quite a turn of fortune,” she commented.

The Lancer sighed and closed her book. It was obvious she wasn’t getting any more reading done tonight. “Yeah, heard the same from yet another person,” Joan grumbled, recalling the reassurance she received from the original Jeanne. “Can’t help but think there’s some sort of string attached or three but honestly, I’ll take what I can get.”

Tamamo nodded sympathetically. “True, it is rare for good fortune to not be met with misfortune further down the line,” she sighed as she turned around. “I’ve learned a long time ago to hold onto that good fortune while you can, so that when it turns around, you can at least weather the storm – for better or worse.”

The former doppelganger raised an eyebrow. “Speaking from experience?” she asked sardonically.

Sighing, Tamamo nodded once more. “A tale for another time,” she replied, waving a hand. “Still, what do you plan with this life of yours now?”

Joan was getting annoyed. What the hell was this, an interrogation? “Got a lot of shit to make up for,” she growled. “Hurt and killed a lot of people and was an existence that was only supposed to cause suffering in the first place. Figured working with Chaldea would be the best way to go about it. Now, we done with this?”

As the Lancer looked over, however, her irritation was superseded by confusion. Tamamo had frozen, staring at her with wide eyes. Even her tail and ears had stopped moving. Then she cleared her throat. “Ah, yes, I see,” she murmured as she turned away to hide her face. “It is good to make amends when… when you can. If you can.”

The Lancer frowned. “Lemme guess, you have some personal baggage as well?” Joan asked rhetorically, leaning against the windowsill. “Since I’ve been answering so many of your questions, how about you return the favor – what’s your story?”

Tamamo blinked in surprise. “Oya?” she purred, a forced smile on her face. “It is rude to ask a lady directly for her story, don’t you know, even if you are a lady yourself. Still, you are correct – I do owe you for my rudeness for all my questions earlier. It is a best story told over tea, however, not here. Do forgive my rudeness.”

She turned to leave, then paused. “Though if you are curious,” the Caster added. “You have a habit of reading, yes? Then please, find my legend. As well as ‘Daji’. I believe that shall satiate some of your curiosity in the meantime.” With that, she vanished into a shower of golden dust.

Joan scowled as the Caster left. Nothing but cryptic hints. She was getting really tired of that. Still…

“Tamamo and Daji, huh?” she muttered to herself as she opened her book once more. She committed them to memory. But for now, it was back to reading.

And throughout it all, the moon shone uncaring over the fractured Roman Empire.

Chapter Text

The morning came, cloudy and grey. There was no threat of imminent rain, but the dampened sunlight filtered through, giving the barely lit palace an even further desolate air. The staff focused on cleaning what they could and attending to the emperor and guests, with the guards once more helping them. Footsteps sounded in the hallways, their ghostly echoes bouncing off the walls and eventually released into the world through a window or opened balcony.

The Chaldean group had gathered in the dining hall once more and served more bread and cheese, as well as a few fresh fruits – again one of the few luxuries Nero retained for herself. At the table were Ren, Morgana, Ritsu, Mash, and Joan. Tamamo stood guard nearby as Loki lazed about on an alcove above. Archer and Medusa had taken off into the city itself to scout and explore.

Ritsu looked around as she ate, her eyebrows furrowing. Swallowing a bite of bread, she looked at one of the soldiers nearby. “Hey, where’s the emperor?” she called over. “It doesn’t seem like her to just leave her guests to have breakfast by themselves.”

The soldier huffed, narrowing his eyes at Ritsu. “The Imperator has more important matters to attend to during the mornings than dealing with foreign… ‘guests’,” he replied. “Consider it a miracle you were even recruited as auxiliaries, let alone be able to stay and dine here.”

The female Master blinked in surprise and was about to angrily retort when Mash pulled at her arm. “Please, Ritsu-senpai, not here,” she hurriedly whispered. “We don’t want to cause more trouble for the emperor.” That being said, even she shot a glare towards the soldier that had so rudely spoken to Ritsu. The soldier for his part didn’t deign to notice.

The redhead blinked over at Mash, then huffed as she returned to her food. “That’s a rude way to say ‘she’s busy’ though,” she grumbled as she tore into a piece of cheese.

“Yeah, what’s the big idea here?” Morgana snapped, glaring at the soldier. “We’re guests of their beloved emperor and their reinforcements besides. Shouldn’t they be treating us a bit better? A bit of respect isn’t exactly asking for much!”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Joan grumbled, popping a grape into her mouth as her words drew everyone’s attention. “Romans weren’t exactly known for their love of foreigners, especially in the capital here. As far as they saw it, you were either Roman or you weren’t. And women especially weren’t exactly highly thought of either. Guess the emperor is an exception.”

There was a moment of silence from the group. “Where did you learn all that?” Ren asked curiously. He certainly hadn’t expected Joan of all people to start pulling out Rome trivia.

The incarnated Servant shrugged. “Did some reading last night about the Roman Empire,” she replied. “Thought it would be a good idea to come in at least a bit prepared instead of charging in half-assed. It certainly didn’t do me any favors before.” The events of Orleans never left her mind, be it her own actions or crimes.

Behind her, Tamamo raised a sleeved hand to her mouth and giggled surreptitiously in response. She could certainly vouch for her studies.

“Huh,” Ren said, blinking in surprise. “Well, good call, Joan.”  He took a sip of water as he considered. He really should’ve thought of that himself, but he had been occupied with everything else. Already, the Lancer Servant in front of him was very much a far cry from the incompetent doppelganger they had to deal with back in Orleans. He hadn’t expected her to learn so much and keep going.

She would definitely be a valuable ally.

One of the staff stepped forward, dressed in white robes. He bowed low towards them. “Honored guests,” he murmured. “When you are finished with your repast, I shall show you to the Imperator.”

By then, they had all finished their breakfasts and stood up. Ritsu shot one last glare at the soldier as Tamamo joined them, her fox tail swishing elegantly behind her. They all turned to leave – then heard a blast of wind and a surprised yelp from behind them, followed by a painful crash. The guard had been apparently blasted into the air and landed on his back, groaning in pain.

Morgana blinked in surprise, then grinned over at Tamamo. “Neat trick, Caster.”

“What ever do you mean~?” Tamamo feigned innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eye spoke a different tale.

In the alcove above, Loki’s mocking laughter echoed through the hall as they left.

As they walked down the hallways, Archer and Medusa had rejoined them at a notification from Morgana. For Ren, last night’s events hadn’t left his mind. The emperor had been rather forward last night and he wondered exactly what that meant for him. How should he act or react around her now? It wasn’t exactly his first time dealing with girls, sure, but this was an utterly unique situation. It was a small blessing that none of the others seem to have noticed it at least.

They entered the last room, guarded by grand doors. It opened up into a large room, with a balcony overseeing the city of Rome. In the center was a large square table with a massive map of the Roman Empire and its territories, with various carved wooden effigies standing on various areas and territories of the map. Unlike most other rooms in the palace, all the torches and braziers were lit, allowing full illumination of the room whether there was sunlight or not.

At the table were three people. Two of them seemed to be commanders, judging by their gear. The third was Nero herself. Her golden hair was once more done up in a proper bun. However, as opposed to her golden armor, she wore a resplendent red dress that accentuated her form and beauty. The front part of her skirt was transparent, allowing one to see her bare legs.

Nero looked up at their entrance and beamed. “Ah, welcome, auxiliaries!” she crowed as they stepped in. “I once more apologize for your meager fare but it seems it hasn’t dampened your spirits in the slightest! Wonderful! Allow me to introduce my two generals – Legate Lanius Felix Evander and Legate Gaius Marcus Acisculus!”

The two men looked over, narrowing their eyes at the new arrivals, but simply saluted. Ren had a feeling the only reason they were receiving any better treatment at all was because of the emperor, a conclusion that was shared by everyone else by Chaldea as they returned their salute with either formal nods at best (Archer and Tamamo) or suspicious glares at worst (Ritsu and Morgana).

Nero simply beamed at all of them. Under normal circumstances, Ren would believe that the emperor was oblivious to the tension between the two groups. However, after last night’s talk, he had to re-evaluate. There’s no way someone who was this savvy and concerned with her empire would miss all this. In fact, her cheerfulness from the very beginning was most likely a façade.

As they approached the table, everyone could quickly see what was going on. The first location one would check was Rome, which was occupied by lighter colored wood figures. Once that was figured out, it was a sobering tale of just how much the darker representations of the enemy outweighed their own just from a quick glance at the map.

“Scouts have reported that the enemy has taken the southern docks,” Legate Acisculus reported, getting back to his own briefing as he moved several darker pieces to the appropriate positions while discarding the lighter colored ones. “Which explains their presence on the Appian Road. In order to do that though, it is safe to assume that the surrounding islands, including Corsica, Sardinia, and Sicily have also been taken over.” He moved the darker pieces in place, further illustrating their plight.

“And if we count Florence as well, the enemy forces have Rome surrounded,” Legate Evander growled as he crossed his arms. Indeed, the stated city, just north of Rome, was covered in more dark effigies. “I’m uncertain our forces here will be enough to break through at this point. They’re exhausted and weary as is.”

Nero nodded contemplatively. “Indeed, my legates, you speak true,” she agreed. “However, we have new factors to consider!” She pointed out the Chaldean group with a broad grin. “Our new auxiliaries! I have seen a bit of their power in the skirmish at the Appian Road! It is a force the enemy will not expect!”

The two legates turned again to look suspiciously at Chaldea. “Imperator, permission to speak candidly,” Acisculus said tersely.

“I welcome it!” Nero cried.

“I’ve heard a few tales of what happened with the skirmish at Appia Road,” the legate commented. “For them to show up right when the enemy forces have been able to reach so easily to the heart of the empire, within striking distance of Rome itself, is all too suspicious. How can you be so certain these aren’t spies or saboteurs, who will be our ultimate downfall and humiliation?”

Legate Evander nodded in agreement. “He speaks true,” he agreed. “As well, their story seems far too fantastical for us to believe. Imperator, I must ask you to reconsider and place them under interrogation, or at least under probation so that we may verify their intent.”

Ritsu rolled her eyes in irritation as Morgana scowled in turn. Mash looked around worriedly between the legates and the group, trying to gauge everyone’s reaction. The Servants didn’t move, but the air around them subtly shifted into a razor’s edge. Should there be any hostilities, it was clear they were ready to kill everyone in the room and make their escape. As for Ren…

His and Nero’s eyes met. For a second, he saw the emperor’s eyes flick almost with annoyance at her two commanders as she considered what to do. Then she began laughing. “You two legates are far too distrustful!” she boomed out, smiling brightly. “What traitors would fight with such valor like we had seen in the skirmish at the Appia Road? No, I’m not mistaken in my judgement! They are our valued allies and I’m proud to welcome them as auxiliaries!”

The two legates ground their teeth but saluted to Nero. “By your will,” they intoned in sync. Nero nodded, apparently happy the matter was settled as the Chaldeans settled down. However, once more, that smile had those cracks that he caught a further glimpse of the night before. He glanced back to the map, seeing the large number of darker figures surrounding Rome.

Nero’s situation was definitely desperate.

“Um, excuse me,” Mash spoke up quietly, raising her hand and garnering the attention of everyone else. “Permission to speak?”

“Please, auxiliary Mash!” Nero approved.

Mash blinked at being addressed as such but nodded. “We never received a briefing on who exactly our enemy is. Perhaps we may be able to contribute more if we had more of an explanation?”

The three Romans blinked in surprise, then Nero nodded. “Very well,” she agreed. “It is true that throwing you to the enemy blind will not avail anybody.” Her smile faded as she faced the Chaldeans with a serious gaze. “They are also Romans, like us,” she explained. “From tactics to equipment to men to loyalty, they are without a doubt Roman as well. They have declared themselves the United Roman Empire, and their goal is to take over the true empire utterly.”

“Well, seems like business as usual,” Loki commented, checking their nails disinterestedly. “Romans are known for backstabbing on top of everything else they’ve done. From senators to generals to the imperial family, it’s all turn and turn about.” They glanced over sardonically at the map then at the legates. “Looks to me it’s a standard civil war. All that’s needed is some general – or legate – burying some blade in the leader’s body and it'd be a picture-perfect story, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You dare-?!” snarled Acisculus, reaching for his gladius.

“Legate, stand down,” Nero barked, glaring at the officer. The legate blinked and hesitantly withdrew his grip, though still glaring at Loki who only responded with a sardonic smile. “That is true,” she continued, keeping a neutral tone as she turned back towards Loki. “However, this isn’t just a regular civil war. Our scouts have managed sightings of key figures that shouldn’t be possible – my predecessor Julius Caesar and the legendary Spartan king Leonidas among them.”

Ritsu’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, Julius Caesar?” she gasped. “As in the Julius Caesar?! And Leonidas too?!”

The emperor nodded. “Judging by your tone you already know of them,” she answered. “Though they have not taken the field, their tactics are far too similar to what they deployed in their days to be a coincidence. And while I would like to believe we are simply dealing with impersonators, they simply have gained far too much momentum and strength for that to be the case.”

The Chaldeans all had to resist the urge to look over at Joan, who simply narrowed her eyes and scowled at the news. The last thing she wanted to hear or deal with was more doppelgangers. Frankly, that simply seemed like a cruel joke or twist of fate than anything at this point. Then again, fate often had a cruel sense of humor – at this point, it wouldn’t surprise her.

“Hm, so at minimum we have the legendary emperor Julius Caesar and the infamous Spartan king Leonidas standing against us,” Loki mused, once more drawing everyone’s attention before anyone could stop them from speaking. “It would be tricky to have such opponents. Ah, no doubt your people would be conflicted in fighting against them. Perhaps they might even defect and join them. Oh, but what am I saying – people wouldn’t so easily defect from their emperor, would they?”

There was a pointed silence as neither Nero nor the legates answered, instead staring stonily at the map. Loki’s broadening smile only confirmed that was the exact reaction they expected.

“Knock it off, Loki,” Ren snapped, glaring at the Avenger. “We’re here to help them, not poke and prod at them. If you have something useful to say, then say it. Otherwise, cut it out.” Loki’s smile widened yet again as they raised their hands easily in surrender, instead choosing to keep his silence.

The Master turned back to the map. “Right, so we’re facing other Romans,” Ren commented, wrenching the conversation back to the topic at hand. “That’s good to know. So, what’s the plan? You guys know the terrain and enemy better than we do. We’ll help out how we can.”

Nero nodded gratefully. “That’s heartening to hear,” she replied. She pointed out Florence. “Right now, recapturing Florence will be key before they fortify. If they manage to secure the city completely, they’ll be simply a short march to Rome and can easily resupply from the sea while we’re too pinned to do anything about it. I will join Legate Asisculus in retaking the city. Auxiliaries, you shall come with me as well.”

Legate Asisculus saluted at the orders as Nero turned to her other general. “Legate Evander, take your forces and recapture the southern docks,” she ordered. “We shall need a staging point to recapture the islands as necessary, and to stop further incursions. Once that is done, prepare what you can for a naval campaign so we can secure the seas once more.” Evander saluted in acknowledgement.

“Now, are there any questions?” Nero asked, looking at the group. The Chaldeans looked at each other, but no one seemed to have anything to add. The emperor nodded. “Make any preparations necessary,” she said. “We march after noon. For Rome.”

“For Rome,” the two generals saluted before marching out of the room, not bothering to give the Chaldeans another glance.

Nero sighed as she rubbed her temples. “I apologize for the harshness of my legates,” the emperor murmured. “They do mean well – for me and the safety of the empire.”

Morgana sighed and hopped up onto the map table. “Eh, not something we need to worry about for now,” he replied, waving off the excuse. “So anyway, do we have any allies of our own or is it just us?”

The emperor shook her head. “No,” she replied. “They might have Caesar and Leonidas, but I’ve had some allies as well. They are currently stationed here in Gaul and Mediolanum.” She pointed out two cities – one where the European continent met the Italian peninsula, and the other far to the north in Europe. “That’s the other reason why we need to secure Florence. Otherwise, any communications with them will be cut off and we won’t be able to recall them in time.”

Ritsu raised an eyebrow as she looked over. “Er, aren’t they kinda far to call back anyway?” she asked skeptically. Indeed, while Europe and Italy weren’t as big as the States, that was still several hundred miles for them to cross on foot, or horse if they were lucky.

Nero nodded grimly. “They are, yes – which is why it falls on us to defend Rome,” she replied with a sigh. “I had not expected the enemy forces to attack us so quickly and suddenly here. It was my lack of foresight that allowed them to reach this close in the first place.”

“And it would appear you’re stretched thin,” Archer noted, glancing critically over at the map. “It seems every force of yours is currently occupied – do you not have any other forces to distribute or send?”

The emperor shook her head miserably. “This is all I have left,” she replied softly. “All other forces have either been dispatched or… or left.” Everyone besides Nero looked over at Loki, who merely smirked before looking disinterestedly back at their nails once more. Ren had to sigh as Ritsu ground her teeth. It seemed Loki was right – though no one wanted to say a word.

“Well, now there’s one variable that the enemy hasn’t counted on,” Morgana stated, nodding confidently. “And that’s us. It won’t last for too long once we hit the field but if we hit fast enough, we might be able to make a good amount of headway before they can retaliate. Once we open up with Florence, we can go from there. Until then, we should get ready. It’s gonna be a long day today.”

All of them nodded and began filing out to make whatever preparations they needed before the march. Ren was the last to leave, and he turned to look back and saw Nero still grimly looking at the map and all the different pieces on it. “Nero?” he asked gently.

The emperor blinked and looked up before placing a smile on her face once more. “Ah, it is nothing, auxiliary. Come, let us make ready. The United Roman Empire may be Romans, but they are not Romans of this time – and we shall show them!” With that, she easily sauntered out of the war room. Ren watched her leave before glancing back at the map with a light frown.

What did she see that they all missed?

The legions were quickly assembled: Several hundred men clad in iron armor, wielding large square shields and spears as well as bows. A few were mounted on horses, though not nearly enough for a cavalry regiment. It was clear the mounted ones were officers of some regard. They were carrying the red banners once more, their red and gold cloth gleaming despite the shrouded sunlight. It was an impressive display – at first glance, anyway.

Once Ren got over his awe at watching an ancient army move out, he began noticing details: the exhaustion on the soldiers’ faces, the oddly lackluster tempo of their marching, and the angry commands from various officers. The Chaldean group were close to the front, allowing Ren to glance over at Nero, who was in discussion with legate Asisculus and didn’t seem to notice. No, that wasn’t the right term. Someone like Nero would’ve noticed her troops’ discontent very quickly.

Perhaps they were simply used to it?

“Have you done anything like this before, Ren-senpai?”

Ren blinked as he looked over at Mash, who had come up beside him. She didn’t have her shield out so she could move more easily with everyone else. He chuckled. “Can’t say I have,” he answered easily. “My high school could be strict at times, but I certainly didn’t have a time where they dressed us up in armor and marched us down the roads. Honestly, it would’ve been way more fun than sitting through boring lessons.”

Mash blinked in surprise before letting out a chuckle. “Japanese high schools certainly aren’t that harsh, are they, Ren-senpai?” she asked curiously. “What was your school like, then?”

The Phantom Thief shrugged, easily tuning out the sounds of the marching behind him. It got monotonous after a while. “If you meant Shujin, it was much like any other school,” Ren replied. “Well, aside from the suspicious glances I got from my classmates and teachers. The rumors especially went crazy – saying I killed someone or was carrying a knife or that I even smuggled ivory.” Ren had to chuckle. “I got a laugh out of that one.”

Mash’s eyes widened. “Did you?” she gasped.

That caused Ren to guffaw in laughter. “Oh, it’s true, all of it,” he replied with a broad grin. “I even drove around without a license too if you can believe it! I did everything and more!”

The shielder’s eyes widened even further before her shock was broken by Morgana and Ritsu chuckling beside Ren. “Come on, Joker, it’s not nice to lead Mash around like that,” Morgana admonished, grinning. “You got her going the entire time.”

Ritsu giggled and smirked at Ren. “But still, a legendary Phantom Thief is bound to have a lot of deeds under his name, hm?” she pointed out. “Maybe there’s a hint of truth to them.”

Ren grinned back. “My lips are sealed,” he replied cheekily.

Mash in the meantime looked between all of them before finally pouting at Ren. “That was mean, Ren-senpai,” she grumbled. “I had genuine questions about your school.”

The Phantom Thief chuckled. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized earnestly. “But yeah, Shujin wasn’t all that different aside from that. It… holds a lot of memories, both good and bad nowadays. I’m still glad I don’t have to go back though.”

Nodding, Mash lowered her head in thought. She researched a bit about high schools and got all sorts of conflicting information – from different facts to opinions, some opining it at the best time of one’s life or some crucible of puberty and social structure on the way to adulthood. The debriefing gave a small window into Ren’s time at Shujin, but from what she could tell, it wasn’t exactly under ordinary circumstances whatsoever.

Was Ren truly just that extraordinary?

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she continued slowly. “What about your old school? What was that like?”

At the question, Ren froze. Even Morgana was intrigued by the question. Ren rarely spoke about his time before coming to Tokyo. He mentioned that was where he was falsely accused by Shido and arrested. Even when they went back, it had only been a month or so. Morgana had some hints here and there of his home life but not a huge amount – or at least, none that Ren had been particularly willing to divulge. He had to just observe all on his own.

“It was… ordinary,” Ren murmured finally, staring ahead of him. “I wasn’t anyone special – my grades were average, friends were average. Didn’t really go to any clubs either – just the ‘go-home’ club.” Indeed, it was ordinary. His parents treated him… well, not coldly but they were a bit distant. They were always busy with their jobs. He hung out with his friends, but once the school day was over, that was about it. And grades… well, he got by.

After the arrest, that all changed. His parents shipped him off to Tokyo after yelling at him for sticking his nose somewhere that it didn’t belong. They didn’t contact him except for some cursory texts. His friends all evaporated after the incident – none of them responded when he tried to text them, and quite a few even blocked his number.

And just as he had forgotten all about that with his adventures in Tokyo, with all the friends and found family he made, he was back. A home that didn’t feel like home. A family that didn’t feel like family. No one to greet him when he got back home, with only suspicious looks from neighbors and former classmates alike when he saw them.

Faced with that, everything from the past year almost felt like a dream. Even now, he had trouble reconciling that, despite having his persona powers back as well as Morgana by his side. And now here he was on an even grander adventure. How would he feel after everything? Would he even be able to ever feel like he actually went back home in the end? Could he?

“Well, even the most extraordinary people come from normal circumstances, I guess,” Ritsu remarked, her hands behind her head and relaxing as she walked. “Never know when or where the next badass or hero’s gonna show up, right? We just make do with what life throws at us – even if life throws us a curveball.” 

She stopped, then considered. “Actually, this is well beyond a curveball,” she mused. “This is a baseball that’s gone a full rollercoaster, swirled around a black hole, shot out at light speed, then did a full reverse.” She glanced over to see everyone else staring at her and blinked. “… I totally forgot where I was going with that,” she muttered abashedly, scratching her cheek. 

Morgana chuckled. “You’ve got a point regardless, Ritsu,” he agreed. “The circumstances he was in and came from may not have been the best, but he rose to the challenge magnificently – with my expert guidance, after all. That’s why he’s the leader of the Phantom Thieves.”

Ren blinked and forced himself to smile. “Heh, you’re giving me far too much credit, Mona,” he replied easily. “But if that’s the case, then all I’ve gotta is to do it again.”

Both Morgana and Ritsu nodded confidently. “Spoken like a true Phantom Thief!” Ritsu crowed.

However, Mash frowned as she stared at Ren. Despite everything and what Ren had told them, despite his air of confidence, Loki’s words from yesterday hadn’t left her mind.

“It’s the same smile you plaster on day in, day out. A rather brilliant smile in its complexity and purpose, don’t you think?”

Mash has been observing the emperor closely after that. She couldn’t help but notice how Nero look so aggrieved yet kept pretending otherwise. She had never met an emperor before. The closest would be Artoria, and she hadn’t had a decent chance for a conversation about her kingship. And now that she was back with her senpai, she observed him closely too. So that she could learn from him and become stronger, a greater shield. So that she could stand by his side.

And she could see the meaning of Loki’s words. Was that the burden that came with being a leader? That came with being ‘extraordinary’?

What could she do to shoulder the burden with him?

As they marched, the sun moved in the sky. Afternoon turned to evening as it began setting on the horizon, bathing the Italian landscape in a fiery glow. At an order from Asisculus, the soldier stopped and brought out shovels and various other tools. Immediately setting to work, they dug a perimeter ditch in a large rectangular area while using the excavated earth to form impromptu walls. Meanwhile, various soldiers took axes and marched into the nearby forest for lumber.

In the meantime, other soldiers began setting up tents, keeping everything in tight formation. Yet more brought out other supplies from the wagons they were carting. Any offer of help died in the mouths of the Masters as they watched with astonishment at the sheer efficiency of everything being built. 

“Right, Romans were really good at making encampments,” Joan remarked, scratching the back of her head casually. “The book said something about that.”

Before long, as the sun dipped over the horizon, campfires were set up as various soldiers were assigned patrols and watches. The Chaldean group stuck together as they ate, having their rations so they wouldn’t dig into the Romans’ already precarious food reserves. It was a quick dinner and nobody felt much like talking, with the Romans constantly staring at them and the exhaustion from the march catching up with them. 

Frankly, for Ren and Morgana, it felt like being back in Shujin all over again – a sensation neither of them relished or wished.

The Chaldeans were given their own set of tents – one for Ren and Morgana, and one for Ritsu and Mash. They were situated right next to the emperor’s grander tent, at her orders. Other than that, they weren’t given much else in terms of amenities, which was just fine – they still had their sleeping bags from their various supplies, after all.

Ren relaxed inside his tent, lit only by the campfire burning outside. It was quickly getting dark but his eyes easily adjusted to it all. Morgana had decided to wander around the camp and keep eyes and ears out in his cat form, leaving him alone. The conversation with Mash had him thinking once more of… home? Was it really home now that he thought about it? The month he had been back felt far less like home than it ever did. Not even his bed – softer as it was – felt as comfortable.

No matter how he thought of it, Tokyo had become his home in the end. The dusty attic in LeBlanc with the permanent smell of coffee. All the friends he had made there. A family that consisted of Sojiro and Futaba. All the different spots they would hang out in, including their hangouts. Over and over again, he thought if he truly wanted to go ‘home’, but that conversation had solidified things for him. 

Of course, that was a decision for when everything had been resolved. For now, there was much to do.

“You are still awake, Master?”

The Phantom Thief blinked as Medusa appeared before him in a shower of golden light. He smiled up at her and waved. “A bit too early for me to get to bed just yet,” he replied. “It’s kinda hard to tell the time though. Guess I’m more used to modern lighting than I thought.”

Medusa nodded. “Modern society seems to have very little need for sleep,” she agreed. “But rest is necessary with trying times ahead. Would you like me to assist with that?”

Ren blinked in surprise, then grinned. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m certainly not refusing,” he answered easily. Standing up, he slipped off his white coat, revealing the black t-shirt underneath, and laid down on his stomach on the sleeping bag. Medusa stepped forward, knelt, and began kneading Ren’s muscles, easily controlling the strength in her fingers as she found out the knots and began working them out.

“You are under considerable stress,” the Servant murmured as she continued working on him. “There is no small amount of stiffness in your muscles.”

Chuckling, Ren waved it off. “Yeah, got that all the time,” he replied easily, grunting and sighing in relaxation as she worked on certain points of his back. “But trust me, what you’re doing right now is helping immensely. I’ve been meaning to ask you to do this more but I’ve been kinda preoccupied lately.”

“That is understandable,” Medusa murmured. “But do not hesitate to call upon my services, Master. I will do what is needed.”

“Noted,” Ren grunted out. 

They were silent for a while as the Rider kept massaging her Master, illuminated only by the crackling campfire outside the tent. “Master,” Medusa murmured. “Permission to speak about something privately?”

The Master again blinked in surprise, trepidation quickly mounting. “Um, sure?” he asked hesitatingly. “What’s on your mind.

The Servant spoke again, this time with her mind. “Why did you reject a possible paradise?” she asked.

She immediately felt her Master’s body stiffen at the question. “… You eavesdropped on me and Morgana after the debriefing, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral as he responded with his own thoughts.

Medusa hesitated, then reluctantly nodded as she continued massaging Ren. Despite the fact that Ren hadn’t moved from her grasp, she knew that he was more than ready to spring into action despite everything. “Forgive me, Master,” she murmured. “I simply sensed there was more to your story than what you told during the debriefing and wished to know. There is no one talking here except the two of us. It is simply my curiosity.”

There was a moment of silence before Ren sighed, both mentally and physically – and not in relaxation, despite the massage. “There’s really not much to tell,” he replied. “There was someone who was just at the right place and the right time – or wrong place and wrong time, depending on how you interpret it – and he was given the power to do anything he wanted. He used it to grant everyone’s dreams and desires. Even… even impossible ones.”

“Impossible ones?” Medusa asked.

Ren hesitated. “He could bring back people that had passed away,” he reluctantly admitted. “They weren’t real, just… copies made from memories. But they were real enough.”

He felt Medusa’s hands stop moving. Glancing over, he noticed that her body was stiff and tense. He couldn’t see her eyes thanks to her blindfold, but what he felt and saw were clues enough to her reaction. This was why he didn’t want to tell anyone about it. “And why did you reject it?” she asked again. Her tone carried a note of agitation despite very obviously trying to control it.

“Because in the end, it wasn’t our world,” Ren replied. “We may struggle, we may trip and fall, but that’s how we grow and develop. My best friends came from the struggles and battles we had together. It may have been a ‘perfect’ world but… it wasn’t our world. No one could reach true happiness that way.”

“And what of the impossible dreams and desires?” the Rider pressed. “How did the ones with those react?”

Ren gulped. All his friends had ‘impossible’ dreams, come to think of it. Ryuji’s leg was perfectly fine and he was still in track. Ann had Shiho back and they were both perfectly happy. Makoto had her dad and was a happy family with her and Sae. Yusuke had Madarame as a perfect mentor figure as opposed to the con artist that killed his mother. Futaba had her mother back after all her trauma, with Sojiro as a dad. Haru’s dad had become a considerate businessman that Haru was happy to learn and support as opposed to a corrupt, sacrificing scumbag. Morgana even had a human form like he had always wanted.

But Sumire and Akechi… Sumire would’ve become Kasumi permanently. She even wanted it. And Akechi wanted absolutely nothing to do with the paradise, for good or ill. Two opposite extremes. Maruki’s words rang out in his mind.

—--

“In all honesty, it’s best for a person’s growth when they tackle their own hardships,” Maruki ground out. “But reality doesn’t always make that so feasible! No matter how much you try or work for so long, the smallest injustice can wipe it all out, leave you with nothing!” 

The doctor stared at Joker pleadingly, begging him to see his truth. “Don’t you, of all people, understand that?!” he demanded.

—--

Ren could only sigh. “They… accepted it and moved on how they could,” he replied quietly. “If you’re asking me if I did the right thing or not, I can’t tell you. We thought we did. But I know there’s a lot of people who will probably disagree with us. We made our choice though, and we won’t – and can’t – take it back.”

Medusa was silent as she considered his words. “And what about you, Master?” she asked. “What would your ideal world be like?”

That question caught him off guard. His ideal world? He thought about it. When Maruki drew him into his world, he was the only one who really noticed that the world was off-kilter and quickly pieced together what was going on. The only real difference in Maruki’s world compared to the real world was the presence of Akechi – who, true to form, demanded that Ren fight.

If there was one thing he knew about Akechi, it was that he refused to be tied down by anyone else. Ironic that now he was the host of a trickster god.

“I don’t know,” Ren admitted. “The closest I have is a world where I have my friends and family with me, no matter what comes my way. It’s… certainly more achievable than many others, admittedly, but there’s not much else I want. The only thing I knew was that world wasn’t the right thing to do in the end, even if – IF – it could grant everyone happiness, no matter how true or false it seemed. It was just our decision in the end.”

The Rider was silent as she considered his words. “You are more selfish than I had expected, Master,” she murmured, her tone quiet and neutral.

Ren said nothing as the Servant stood up and left, vanishing as she stepped out of the tent, leaving the Phantom Thief to the darkness and his thoughts.

Chapter Text

Trips to the Velvet Room never caught Ren off-guard anymore, with how frequently he had been called to it. The duration between the times he had been called varied, but it always came sooner or later. Frankly, whenever he went to bed, he always expected a Velvet Room visit. Each and every time, he heard the Velvet Room before he saw it – the music reached his ears before he even opened his eyes once more.

And it was the case once again. Ren opened his eyes, the soft blue fabric of the walls and the music greeting him once more. Getting up, he easily stepped out of the jail cell and as usual, Igor, Lavenza, and Olga were awaiting him. The Master of the Velvet Room looked up at Ren as his perpetual grin widened. “Welcome back, my dear guest,” he greeted cordially once more. “Your adventures have certainly taken you to some far-flung locales – from medieval France during the Hundred Years War to the reign of Emperor Nero in Ancient Rome. But the Velvet Room as always is at your disposal.”

Lavenza stepped forward, smiling. “And with this new singularity, there are new personas you can now summon, my Trickster,” she supplied. Opening up the Compendium, there were more glowing transparent pages amidst the solid pages and the burnt ones. “And because of their stronger bond these personas have with the time period,” she continued. “They shall also be stronger here as well. Please, utilize this strength as you will.”

Ren blinked in surprise and nodded in understanding. Indeed, leafing through the Compendium, he could see some familiar names like Cerberus, Dionysus, and Narcissus. Right. As he recalled, the Roman Empire basically ripped from Greek mythology almost wholesale, with some changes and additions here and there. That was probably enough of a connection for them to be summoned once more. He could still see the other personas from the France singularity – Angel, Metatron, Satan, and others. It was reassuring to see he was regaining his powers bit by bit.

He glanced over and saw Olga with her arms crossed, very determinedly NOT looking at him. “Something the matter, Olga?” he asked out of curiosity.

The Attendant-in-training turned even more resolutely away from Ren. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about, Amamiya,” she replied curtly. “Summon what personas you need and leave so I can attend to my personal learning and projects.”

The Phantom Thief could only blink in surprise as Lavenza frowned at Olga. “Come now, it is unbecoming to be so rude to the Trickster,” the smaller Velvet Room attendant admonished. “I recognize that you are not getting nearly as much attention from him as he cannot access the Velvet Room freely, but that does not mean he deserves such treatment-“

Olga immediately turned as red as an apple. “Wh-wh-wh-I have no idea what you speak of!” she yelled, glaring down at Lavenza. “I do NOT require his attention! You may be my senior and I truly respect you but that does NOT give you the right to slander me so! I am simply impatient to continue with this mission and believe he should be continuing his missions as opposed to wasting so much time, therefore-“

As the two Attendants continued to argue, Ren could only look confusedly between the two before looking questioningly at Igor. The Master of the Velvet Room simply shrugged. “It would appear that Olga has seen your more… recent actions, particularly that with emperor Nero,” he explained. “And as a result, she is rather beside herself now. It is nothing to worry about, my dear guest. It will subside in time. Though for her sake, it may be advisable to visit her more often.”

The aforementioned girl immediately whipped about, her eyes wide in betrayal. “Master?!” she squeaked as her face somehow turned an even redder hue. Igor simply let out a chuckle as Olga struggled to form words Ren had to admit it was kind of hilarious and adorable to see.

Ren raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright,” he acceded, quickly drawing Olga’s attention once more. “I’ll visit more often just to hang out. It’s the Velvet Room so time’s not exactly like it is outside anyway. Will that work out?”

Olga blinked in surprise and immediately turned away to avoid meeting Ren’s gaze. “Th-that’s quite unnecessary,” she stammered, gripping her arms as she crossed them again. “B-but if you wish to meet more regularly so that I may give you more guidance, th-then I’m not opposed to it. You’ll need all the help you can get, after all, be it in magecraft or dealing with the Moonlit World.”

The Phantom Thief grinned in relief. “Thanks, Olga,” he replied earnestly. That knowledge honestly would prove extremely handy when dealing with the other Chaldean staff. Though he was on good terms with the Servants, as well as Roman and Da Vinci, he wasn’t blind to the glares he had been getting from the others. Frankly, the more he can minimize the conflict back at Chaldea, the better. And unlike with Shujin, he had a chance to possibly nip things in the bud with support. Such an opportunity was invaluable.

Lavenza smiled and nodded in approval – then blinked in surprise as Ren reached over to gently pat her on the head. “And of course, I’ll come see you too, Lavenza,” he added, smiling down at her. “We really haven’t had much of a chance to talk all that much, with everything that’s been happening. Sorry about that, Lavenza.”

The girl blinked again, before smiling, gently taking Ren’s hand in both of her own. “Please, do not apologize, my Trickster,” she replied softly. “You have been beset by trials far beyond the ‘rehabilitation’ you had undergone. I marvel at your strength and determination to see it through, no matter the circumstances. Nevertheless, I am glad you shall visit more often. I look forward to it, my dear Trickster.”

Lavenza smiled gladly up at Ren, who responded in kind. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Olga also smiling fondly too, which surprised him. It seemed her and Lavenza got along without too much trouble, thankfully. Lavenza gently let go of Ren’s hand as he nodded. “Right, enough standing around,” he declared. “Let’s get to summoning.”

Olga simply shook her head – though she was smiling – as Lavenza’s smile widened. “Of course, my Trickster,” she said. 

The morning had not yet arrived, the orange rays of the sun peeking over the horizon. The air was cool from the night, though not uncomfortably so. Soldiers marched throughout the camp, either on patrols or getting out of bed to get ready for the day’s march. They would reach Florence by mid afternoon if they left early enough, and so they were all getting ready. It would be some time before they got to marching, but it was just a matter of time.

Ritsu rubbed her arms as she yawned. Thanks to going to bed earlier than usual, she had gotten up earlier than usual as well. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked as she strode through the camp. She had been sharing a tent with Mash, but the shielder was absent when she woke up. When she asked a nearby soldier, he told her that she went outside with their red-coated ally, who could only be Archer.

Walking by a campfire, she flinched as she heard a whetstone against the blade of a gladius. Although she had disguised it well enough, the events of the day before had gotten to her. Seeing soldiers like that spill blood so wantonly, and even charge at her with the intent to kill… it unnerved her. The sound of metal nearby caused her to lick her lips nervously.

She slapped her own cheeks several times. No, no, she couldn’t be afraid NOW, not when this was her first mission! She was fighting alongside the Phantom Thieves! She had to show her stuff, literally and figuratively!

As she walked outside the impromptu fortifications, she heard the sound of metal crashing. Immediately, shivers went down her spine as she was involuntarily reminded of the other day. Still, she forced down her fear and did what she could to listen carefully. On closer listening, it sounded like singular bits of metal – though they were impacting very, very fast.

Well, if that wasn’t the indication of Servants, she didn’t know what was.

Walking down, she came across a pond where the soldiers had been drawing water. On the nearby shore, Archer and Mash were clashing. Honestly, in a way it was comical – the shy, surprisingly scantily clad Mash (who rocked that outfit, by the way) wielding a shield much larger and heavier than she was, clashing against a lean, muscular man easily a head taller than she was with short swords.

However, the speed and harshness they clashed against each other was more hilarious in the sense of ‘utterly inhuman’. Both of them darted in and out, sword meeting shield in a blaze of sparks, backing off for some distance, then reengaging again. It was honestly hypnotizing to watch.

“You’re still focused too much on your shield,” Archer admonished as they backed off. “It’s a valuable weapon but it leaves you oblivious to your surroundings. Keep light on your feet and maintain awareness as you fight.”

“Yes Archer,” Mash dutifully called back before charging in again. Ritsu honestly didn’t know how Archer could constantly navigate around Mash’s huge shield, but he kept maneuvering around her and striking whenever she was exposed as she attacked. Then again, that was probably why she was training with Archer: So she could learn.

Honestly, seeing her train so dutifully put a proud smile on her face. She remembered when Mash was so… emotionless at worst and painfully shy at best. Both Roman and her tried their best to coax more out of Mash but it was slow going. It seemed that being around Ren, Morgana, and the Servants were the best thing to have happened to her, circumstances notwithstanding.

She stretched and yawned – and saw something in the distance in the nearby forest. It didn’t seem to be hostile but she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. Curious, she decided to head towards it. As the sight got clearer and clearer, her eyes widened as she began walking faster toward it. Well, she certainly wasn’t expecting this so early in the morning.

Ren huffed as he lifted himself up and down the tree branch. Push-ups were good and all, but frankly he needed more routine with his exercises. He went for a jog around the encampment multiple times (he had to thank Ryuji for all the tricks and training in running), went outside, and began doing his tried-and-true workout: Pull-ups.

It certainly reminded him of those times he did them back in LeBlanc. Sojiro caught him once or twice, but aside from grumbling about how he was going to make the café smell like sweat, he never stopped him. Morgana was nearby, dozing on the grass. They had discussed last night and Morgana thought it would be a good idea to not leave him alone for at least a bit. That was fine with Ren – he could use the company.

“Twenty-three,” he grunted out. “Twenty-four… twenty-five…” Then he felt eyes on him, staring intensely. At first, he thought an enemy had snuck up on him, but then realized it didn’t feel like an enemy. It wasn’t even mild hostility like it was in Shujin. It was just a ridiculous amount of intensity. It was coming from the direction of the camp, which he was facing away from. Now he was curious what it was.

Deciding to confront it, he let go of the tree branch and landed easily on the ground. He rolled his shoulders to try and get rid of the soreness. He turned around and… immediately saw who it was. “Oh, hey Ritsu,” he greeted cordially. “Didn’t expect to see you up and about so early. Did you sleep well…” Ren’s words trailed off when he realized that she wasn’t meeting his eyes – for a very specific reason. Instead, she was looking a bit further down.

At his body.

Which was bare and glistening with sweat from his workout.

Ren cleared his throat, blushing a bit. “My eyes are up here,” he pointed out.

“I have made my decision,” Ritsu replied solemnly, not taking her eyes off him whatsoever.

He heard Morgana chuckling nearby. He had to sigh. Well, it seemed like this would be an interesting morning already.

The morning swiftly passed as the army quickly packed up everything – tents, blankets, food, and more. The pack animals had been able to graze around them as well, allowing for a rested army to keep marching. Once more, the Chaldeans were in the front, marching close to emperor Nero as they walked down the stone pathways toward Florence. It had been late morning when they finally hit the road again.

Morgana yawned as he walked beside Ren and the others in his Metaverse form. He had stayed in the form as much as he could to further get acclimatized to it and to train his circuits. He would rather be in cat form, but given how dangerous the singularities were, he couldn’t afford to. Honestly, it felt more and more like being in his Metaverse form was becoming the default nowadays. It was certainly an odd feeling.

He could still remember whenever he took this form, it usually meant running through the fantastical halls of Palaces or the dark tunnels of Mementos. Now he was in the real world in this form. Sure, Chaldea, medieval France, and ancient Rome were fantastical places in of themselves, but they were mundane in comparison.

Admittedly, he felt out of place, all things considered.

“Hey, Nero?”

His friend’s voice shook him out of his ruminations as he glanced up in curiosity. The emperor turned back, beaming at Ren. “What is on your mind, auxiliary?” she asked cheerfully. Ritsu and Mash were on the other side of the marching column chatting away, and therefore couldn’t hear them. He noticed her glancing off to the side though.

Following her gaze, Morgana saw Archer. He had been keeping watch and doing reconnaissance for the army. The fact that he was still scanning the horizon as opposed to focusing on any certain points was probably enough for Nero to know there weren’t any enemies approaching.

“Did you sleep well?” Ren asked, frowning in concern.

Morgana blinked in surprise at the question before looking closer at her. Underneath Nero’s eyes were dark shadows that he hadn’t noticed before. His instinct almost caused him to admonish her, but he held his tongue. He doubted the emperor would appreciate being lectured by him, no matter how much ‘respect’ she showed him the other day.

Why oh why did they have to sound like each other?!

Nero blinked in surprise, her smile dimming a bit before renewing. “Ah, you are truly perceptive, auxiliary,” she noted. “I’ll admit, I haven’t had as much sleep as I would like. The demands of an emperor take from before dawn to well past dusk. However!” She turned back to her army. Turning around, Morgana quickly noticed that her army was paying attention to her.

“Such a tiny sacrifice is but a trifle to the Emperor of Roses!” Nero declared. “Just as my citizens, my men, and my generals have given your all, so shall I in turn! Together, we shall be victorious and restore the glory of Rome once more! This is but the first step! My soldiers, oh proud citizens of Rome, I ask of you: Will you fight for Rome and your emperor for a brighter future?”

The soldiers roared in assent, almost deafening them as Nero’s grin became even wider. “As expected!” she cried in approval. “Now, let us march!” Nero looked back at Ren and smiled. “And you need not worry about my rest,” she added. “While everyone requires their beauty sleep, my sleep is always beautiful, as much as I! Never fear!”

The Masters could only blink as the emperor turned back around and began marching once more with everyone else. Morgana was surprised. He liked to think he had an eye for talented individuals – indeed, many of Ren’s confidants came from his observation and advice – but frankly, Servants were in another league altogether, both good and bad. And Nero… well, she was certainly something.

He had to wonder – how would she compare to Artoria?

The catlike being hopped up on Ren’s shoulder. “She knows how to hype a crowd up, at least,” he muttered. Ren nodded mutely with agreement. “I wonder if she’s like this all the time,” he muttered so only Ren could hear. “I’m kinda surprised she hasn’t driven everyone around her insane if she’s this exuberant all the time.”

“She isn’t,” Ren immediately answered, catching his attention. “Nero’s an emperor so she can’t show weakness or weariness, especially not to her own people.” He glanced back at the soldiers marching with them. “That’s why they still follow her, I think,” he murmured. “When they’re with her, these soldiers probably feel like they could no matter what. I’m not so sure about the legates but they’re still here despite everything. That’s gotta count for something.”

Morgana could only blink at Ren’s rapid defense of the emperor. “Um, how did you guess all that, Joker?” he asked. “Did you, like, talk to her or something? But I’ve been with you all night except when you went to take a bath and we didn’t even see Ner… o….”

The realization dripped into his head at the same rate as his eyes slowly widening. “Wait a second,” he said slowly. “Are you saying that… in the bath? Nero…. She… Joker?”

Ren was silent for a second. And then – “Oh, I need to check in with Archer about something,” he rapidly said. “I’ll be right back, don’t wait for me, be back later.” Before Morgana said anything, Ren grabbed him and put him down on the ground and dashed off.

“Wha –“ Morgana stammered. “No, we are NOT done talking! Get back here and explain yourself, Ren Amamiya! COME BACK HERE!”

“Um, Mr. Morgana, what’s going on?” Mash asked as Ritsu and her came over after hearing the commotion. An explanation and a couple seconds later….

“REEEEEN,” Ritsu screamed. “GET BACK HERE AND SHARE THE DEETS! REEEEEEN!”

Ren could not be found for the rest of the march, to the exasperation and amusement of the Servants.

The city of Florence lay beyond the horizon. It was smaller and less majestic than Rome, but it held a certain beauty that the Chaldeans couldn’t deny. The buildings were a bit more rustic, but they had an air of warmth and comfort to them, with surprisingly detailed designs on the architecture. Unlike Rome, none of the buildings had been torn down nor were there any makeshift barricades around the city. All in all, it lent an air of comfortable decadence that they didn’t experience in Rome.

However, marring the beauty of the city were soldiers of the United Roman Empire arrayed against them. They had taken positions outside of the city proper, arraying themselves into columns of soldiers, bristling with spears and shields with archers in the back. It was clear that they had been waiting for them out on the field. They also considerably outnumbered the Roman forces.

Same situation as before, it seemed.

Asisculus scanned the field. “Hm, at least they’re Roman enough to not fight within the city,” he huffed. “Less risk to citizens and less damage we’ll have to repair.”

Ren could’ve sworn that he saw Nero scowl for a split second as she observed the situation before she grinned broadly once more. “Quite right, legate!” she cried. “Credit where credit is due! Our forces are indeed Romans – perhaps not true Romans, but enough to know their pride! I salute such honorable souls! And as such, it would be an insult to not meet them on the field with honor!”

She wheeled about and faced her army. “Men, get into formation!” she declared “We shall meet these interlopers in battle and show the might of the true Rome!”

As the legate began barking orders and the soldiers began organizing themselves into similar columns, Nero turned towards the Chaldean group, who had congregated from their positions together. “And auxiliaries, I have no direct orders to give you,” she stated. “I do not know your full capabilities, so I do not know how to best utilize your strengths. Act as you see fit and secure our victory.”

Ren nodded. “Thank you for your confidence in us, emperor Nero,” he replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll do all we can to win.”

Nero grinned and nodded before walking off to attend to her troops. Meanwhile, the Chaldeans gathered. “This will be an easy matter,” Archer observed. “I do not see any Servants or monsters among them. It will be much like the first skirmish when we first entered the singularity – trained and disciplined as the Roman legions are, they are no match for a Servant, let alone four of them.”

Ritsu nodded. “In that case, let’s just win this thing and go home,” she responded enthusiastically.

“Wait,” Morgana interrupted. “This seems straightforward enough, but I can’t shake the feeling there’s something else going on here.” Frowning, he looked over at Nero’s forces as their red banners began coming up, the cloth flapping in the air. He glanced over at the United Roman Empire forces and at their purple banners in turn and made his judgement. “We gotta hold back a bit,” he declared.

That caught everyone off-guard. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to defeat the opponent as quickly as possible?” Mash asked, her eyebrows frowning in confusion. “It would bring the battle to a decisive end and minimize casualties.”

“Cat’s got a point,” Joan grumbled, stepping forward and crossing her arms. “It’s not about just winning or losing – it’s a matter of pride. If we came in and wiped them out like leftovers, it’s gonna stick in the soldiers’ craws. No doubt the emperor would be pleased as hell but honestly, I’d be watching our backs if we went all out and took them all out.”