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Chapter Text

(Kintsugi) Side Story: Leto’s Suffrage

Between Chapters 17 and 18

Eight. Years. 

Eight. Literal. Years. To a God, it was meant to be short, wasn’t it? The passage of such trivial years is a blink to the undying. Yet, here she was, feeling the weight of that supposedly short time. Her smile was stretched thin, like her patience, as she placed a delicate touch on Hephaestus’ chest. It damn near singed her finger, being so close to him. He was sweating a bit, the cracks of his skin overflowing with his power. If not for her own strength, the raw heat of his forge would have overwhelmed her. Some say that was the reason he lacked nymph attendants…save one. 

“Hard at work?” she whispered. 

She rolled her tongue just enough to give that lilt to her voice, her perfect eyes hooded just enough to tease him from the corner of his eye. Her chest pressed into his back, her arms laced over his shoulders. Her fingers danced some circles on his chest as she leaned near his ear. 

“I’m almost done,” he smiled softly, “I appreciate such delicate work you’ve given me over the years. Most just want spears or swords.” 

His hands were a searing red, the heat allowing him to hold and twist the glass finery he was working with. The quartz glass was an azure blue in color and to the gods and humas that had never seen glass, it was beauty personified. She adored this stained glasswork as he called it and requested something that was still transparent while having a colored hue. 

Thus far he didn’t disappoint…at least not fully.

How many times was she here, just watching and waiting. Teasing and lusting. Even Aphrodite gave her some blessings to better grab his focus and nothing! She had been more forward that she had ever been in her life, and this lumbering Olympian simply smiled and welcomed her as always. 

If she didn’t know better, he was just ignoring her advances. 

But she was Leto, the Titan of Motherhood. She was a divine beauty even Zeus could not resist. If she said kneel, they would kneel. 

Which is precisely what made her want him more. Him and Pallas…both refused to bend the knee. Even if Zeus never bowed to her, he never said no. Bent to her whims whenever she felt them. 

The power of it was…intoxicating. It was one thing to BE the storm. It was another to be able to beckon it at your whim. Her fingers danced on Hephaestus pectoral, giving soft circles as she hummed her approval. 

She was feeling the raw muscle beneath it, biting her lip at the way he inadvertently tensed. Zeus and even Pallas lacked this…firmness. They were soft, no matter how large they may have been visually. Yet, Hephaestus was there! If she poked and prodded, his muscles would firm up. There was a hardness to him that no God could emulate perfectly. Humans were close, as the one human lover she tried could attest to, but they lacked the stamina of a God. 

If before she just had a passing fancy. Now…oh now it was a damn near obsession. It wasn’t just a sexual need but an outright hunger. She needed it. She needed him to heed her, lust for her, love her. That utter feeling of control as she rode him would be devastating. 

BOOM!
She shivered, scowling out of her revelry as she turned to the source of the explosion. Walking out of the fire of one of the machines was a tall woman. She was solidly built, with long red hair. It was pulled into a bun at the back, with two long bangs framing each side of her face. In her mouth was a long black stick of what she could only assume was charcoal. It was thin, with a small flame lit at the end of it. 

She was wearing god knows what. The chiton of the gods pooled around her waist. Her bare torso was free save for a thick width of black clothe covering her breasts. She scowled as the only fire nymph in existence (as she knew of) walked around the forge without a concern. She wasn’t actively involved but the flaming red locks and sadistic scowl irked Leto something fierce. Any normal nymph she would have smited for such smugness. 

Sadly, a river of the underworld was far from normal. Last she heard the nymph never left her river. Yet, now here she was being a flaming bitch alongside Hephaestus on Olympus. She was carrying stacks of burning material, globs of azure liquid that was suspended above her hand. She tossed a couple into the fire, leaning forward to ignite a piece of straw that was in her mouth. It exhumed a noxious fume she hated, but this was not her domain. 

“Yet,” she smirked inwardly. 

The river of pain said nothing, grinning away. 

“Still here huh? Just that excited for a piece of glass hmm?” 

A vein throbbed on her skull as she closed her eyes and smiled. 

“Of course, his work is highly praised. Just watching is a privilege.” 

The rude woman scoffed, crossing her arms. 

“Not really a privilege if anyone is welcome, hmm?” 

She glared at her, Phlegethon just grinning even wider as Hephaestus focused on his work. Leto leaned even further, rubbing her nose into his shoulder. 

“He smells divine,” she thought. 

For a moment the delusions wafted through her eyes, the idea of him beneath her, him above her, and a multitude of various positions. It lasted only a moment, a small spark singing her arm. 

“DAMN YOU!” she yelled. 

“Phlegethon,” warned Hephaestus without turning. 

“Hey, this forge burns hot, not my problem if she isn’t strong enough to take the heat.” 

His eyes darted from his work, narrowing in warning. That only made her grin turn more sadistic, her eyes narrowing in the twisted pleasure of watching Leto fume. 

“That is not--” 

“Phlegethon,” he groaned. 

“Fine fine, I’ll leave you two to your…whatever the hell this is.” 

She turned. She took a single step and her teeth peaked out through the tips of her lips with how wide she smiled. 

“Ah, Heph.”

She waved at him to follow as he finished the glasswork. 

“Your celestial silver cracked again.” 

“Damnit Phlegethon, how many times have I told you to stop hiding the energy signatures! It’s not funny, the metallic, fine.” 

He stood abruptly, carefully untangling himself from Leto. 

“My apologies,” he said, “I have to fix this before it cascades into worse problems.” 

He absorbed the heat from the glass vase that he made, handing it to Leto. 

“For you. Again, I'm sorry about this. Which blast furnace was it?” 

“Number eight,” she snarked, watching him leave. 

Leto was sputtering as she held the vase, the third that she requested. She obviously wanted to say more, but Phelegethon waved her goodbye, mocking her as turned. THe powerful Titaness growled, stopping away. The mood was dead anyway. The moment she did, Hepahestus’ forge shuddered, sealing itself from outside influences. 

He said it was for safety. 

It was not. 

“She’s gone?” he asked, his voice echoing. 

“Yup.” 

He appeared, a crack piece of silver ore in his hand. 

“I hate how random this things cracks.” 

“I hate how you just keep pretending like you don’t know what she’s doing,” snickered Phlegethon, “that scared of her?” 

“Honestly…yes,” he muttered. 

He shivered a bit, her smirk growing as she saw his discomfort. 

“Pallas has warned me all about her. Better to string her along and just let her desire sputter out…I hope.” 

The idea of Leto was not…all bad. She was beautiful, that was true. Yet, when he looked at her all he saw was Artemis and worst of all Apollo. Literally it was like seeing a female Apollo and that ultimately killed whatever possible desire he had for her. 

“Phlegethon…please stop antagonizing everyone.”

She only snickered. 

He sighed, cringing a bit as the woman gestured to herself. 

“It’s just too much fun, besides your brother enjoys my…what did you call it? Oh yea, my caustic nature.” 

She bit her lip, giggling. Both in memory and the grimace on her… 

“...what is he to me?” she thought. 

She didn’t really know. Didn’t really care all that much either. She just knew how fun it was to make him squirm. 

He waved her off, only for her to suddenly appear beside him, slinging her arms across her shoulder. Her sharp words always made him slightly regret freeing her, just the way she liked it. 

He may not be rid of Phlegethon, but at least Leto’s desires would one day fizzle out…

It would.

It definitely would. 

…right? 

-Time Skip: The Modern Day-

Leto was decked out with all the works. Her hair, make-up, and her dress was at its best. Her once curly blonde hair has become straightened in her modern iteration and her hips melded beautifully with her love handles. 

She liked the way some men described her. Thick as they called it. 

Her cleavage was on full display, her smirk growing at the way some of the occupants couldn’t stop staring. Her eyes shone with the opacity of jealousy, vicious emeralds that drew any who looked upon her in. Just for the fun of it she winked at a young man, making him drop his phone and sputter. 

She was sitting in a nice chair near the front desk, eyeing the man who stood at the desk. 

“Have you called him yet?” 

“Aye miss. The superintendent is on his way. Just finishing up a few jobs.” 

She tapped her foot relentlessly, her patience wearing thin. Today was the day she could feel it! She let their distance simmer his desire for the last thousand years, but when he saw her, he’d be completely blown away. 

She smiled, her entire body feeling the weight of his quiet divinity. It was easy to overlook if you weren’t looking for it. It was…glorious. All the Olympians in this age have developed to their full maturity, her own children having eclipsed her several times over. 

It was the greatest bit of pride for her. 

Now, she would have one at her beck and call…or at least between her legs. Either or would be--

“Leto?” 

She smiled, turning to eye him. 

He was ravenous. A pair of jeans with brown loafers and a black belt. His hair was rather long for men in this generation, his locks curling around his nape. He was as muscular as she remembered, yet aged. He still looked to be within his mid-twenties, yet there was a hint of time to him. A few strands hung over his nose, his hand weaving through his hair to pull it back. 

The best part? 

The glasses. He was wearing glasses for whatever reason. They dulled his glowing eyes, yet their illustrious hue was still breathtaking either way. His fashion sense had improved a bit as well. A beige shirt paired with a dark brown khaki jacket. 

She smiled a bit, remembering how he only wore red for so long. Then just black. Oh, don’t even get her started when it was red and black. 

“Hello darling.” 

Her words were as drenched as she was, soaking in the desire she had fermented for so long. She smiled at his impassive glance. Before he would shy away slightly, yet now he seemed entirely unaffected. It was cute how he pretended. 

“I…it’s good to see you. I’m surprised you knew I was here?” 

She merely smirked at his questioning gaze. 

“Still playing hard to get?” she thought. 

“Well, Artemis owed a little favor. Don’t be concerned she wasn’t exactly thrilled with it.” 

That was an understatement. She was outright disgusted by it. Though her words made little sense. What sort of daughter laughed at their mother muttering good luck? 

“I know she told you I live in the area. Not here.” 

She wilted a bit. 

“Am  I…bothering you?” 

“Your company is never a bother, just unexpected. Unfortunately I had plans with--” 

The woman that came down the stairs was inhuman. Leto meant that literally. She also knew who this woman was. Her eyes widened, recognizing the artist. 

“Hey Heph, whose this?” 

“This is Leto, Artemis’ mother. Now B--” 

She grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into a deep kiss. She added tongue just to slam her point across. Everyone was gob smacked as the woman licked her lips. She turned, her gaze downwards, as if belittling Leto. 

“This ones mine. Get your own. Let’s go, we’re going to be late.” 

It wasn’t that kiss that did her in, it was the lovesick dopy smile that followed. 

“Of course dear. We can’t have that. I promise you Leto, give me a day and I’ll make time for you, we can catch up--” 

“Stop being polite and get your ass over here! Time is love Heph and I want to make a lot of it!” 

He blushed horribly. 

“Damn it woman! This is a public space! Have some decency!” 

He followed after her, lecturing her with a smile on his face. The woman turned, her sharp eyes ripping into Leto. 

Said Goddess was stupefied, only brought out of her laments by a cold seeping into her bare arm. She turned to eye the male receptionist. He smiled, his face filled with pity. He held a soda to her. 

“That’s rough buddy.” 

She wanted desperately to just kill everyone here out of embarrassment…but she of course swore to her daughter not to react negatively. Now she knows why. 

“That…fucking brat,” she wept internally, “you could have at least told…me…” 

Her face melted into a rather intrigued one. Hephaestus’ love life was entirely unknown, even to his wife…yet…her daughter knew? 

Oh…she was getting to the bottom of this. 

Either that or the Olympians were far more private than she ever gave them credit for. Even the lovesick eyes of that man weren't enough to get her going. She pouted, leaving with a broken heart…for however long that lasted. 

“Lucky bitch,” she whimpered, dispersing into blue petals. 

-End-

Alas, such is Leto’s lament. Woe is her. 

Oh well, moving on now!

Chapter Text

As requested by one of the three winners of the anagram! I'm hoping to have the next Side Story uploaded in the next couple of days! it's proving to be rather stubborn overall.

Elseworld (Kinstsugi): The Nameless Forge.

When Gudako summoned Hephaestus of all servants, she was ecstatic! Who wouldn't be with a GOD servant! To say that she was unhappy about her summoning would be way off…though…to say she wasn't weirded out was another matter entirely.

It wasn't that he was weird…it was that he wasn't.

Every servant she had was just straight up nuts, weird, or had a quirk to them that made them stand out to her. Arturia saber was a glutton of a woman who wouldn't stop eating for example. Yet, Hephaestus was just…chill.

Helpful, kind, and easy to work with. That was the best she could say about it. Even EMIYA of all servants didn't have a bad thing to say!

Speaking of, she found herself looking for him again. He made grinding for those god awful materials far easier for everyone involved. Bringing him and EMIYA made sniping from a distance stupidly easy. Unlike other servants, the two could alter their ammunition as needed to merk whatever mooks she came across. She giggled madly, already swimming in all those excess summoning materials. Sure, other servants were more powerful, but in raw efficiency, they were the best!

A fact she kept securely to herself. Ain't no way she was letting anyone know that…especially Gil.

She hummed, skipping along as she approached her lancer. She smiled at the taller blonde woman, the King of Knights looking at her master with a calm demeanor.

"Greetings master."

"Hey Arturia! Do you happen to know where Hephy is by any chance?"

The queen of Knights stilled for a moment, making the red haired master giggle inwardly.

"I…have not seen him at all, master."

She wiggled her eyebrows, making the more mature Arturia scowl.

"I. Have. Not. Seen. Him."

"Fine fine," she sighed, "I get it. Just wanted to go hunting again…hey, what's with the look?"

The grimace on her face was not just hers alone. Other servants passing by all scowled at the mere mention of his name. For the last two weeks since he had been summoned, he had been the only servant Gudako had taken with them. There was no new mission or lost belt to hammer themselves into yet, so her excursions were the only means for them to stretch their limbs and go full throttle. An opportunity the God of smiths had taken from them.

It hurt even worse when Gudako was able to do several hunts in a row with him without pause, escalating her obsession with summoning servants. Gudako ignored them. Each of them had gotten her attention countless times over their long journey together. So what if she had been blitzing all those boring missions with someone new!

She spent two months with Gawain and now the dork looked like he was on the verge of tears!

The servants were weird.

"Fine, I'll find him myself."

Her nose twitched, the smell of roses fluttering across her nose. She had only sensed this when that woman was near. She turned, eyeing the ginger haired woman badly hiding behind a corner.

"Is she still trying to talk to him?" she muttered gloomily.

"It's more difficult than you think. Hephaestus has proven a rather difficult person to talk to and also hard to get alone time with."

"What!? Nah, you just gotta talk to him and he'll open right up!"

Lancer Arturia grimaced. That wasn't entirely true. The man was solitary, proving to remain in his own company. In the library he kept to himself, finding a secluded space that nary anyone could find him in. The phoenix that rested on his shoulder kept most away from him as well. He wasn't dangerous, it was just…awkward. There was no history they could draw from, no means of starting the conversation. Not to mention that Gudako was really the only one that seemed able to find the man at all.

Well…until today anyway.

Running down the hall was Mordred of all servants, her mouth salivating as she approached Gudako.

"You got to see this! Hurry up master, let's go!"

Before she could say anything she was hefted over the servant of the sword's shoulder. Her vision blurred as she was tossed about until they reached the most holy of places within Chaldea. So great was its vocation that the servants that ran it needed to shift duties, so ravenous for this place were.

It was the kitchen. Here only a handful of servants could deploy their hand earned skills to feed the mass of servants. Many had attempted to join their ranks, with many falling entirely. Some could only do a few things well. Some could only bake. Others…well…they were given titles like "King of Potatoes" for a reason.

For the first time in what felt like years…a new servant was behind the counter. She blinked, beaming at the sight she saw. His hair pulled back in a pony tail, sleeves rolled up, was none other than Hephaestus!

He was wearing a simple beige t-shirt, the buttons undone near the collar. He was currently breaking bits of cauliflower beneath his fingers, placing them in a bowl. It was a standard pace, nothing as strenuous or quick as the others.

Which made sense, considering he was alone. Gudako's bright smile dimmed as the thought slammed into her.

"He…got permission right?" she thought.

It wasn't that early, but the others had specific times that they opened their little kitchen restaurant…and Hephaestus was a solid thirty minutes earlier than any of them. He looked up, smiling softly at Gudako. Was it funny, the way she felt when he looked at her? It wasn't the way that some of the servants lusted for her or thought that she was cute. There was a greater depth there, a weight that she couldn't rightly put her finger on. Like a memory that he cherished whenever he saw her.

"Hello master," he said.

Mordred brought them to the edge of the counter, taking one of the four high rise seats. The front house seats, as they had been nicknamed, were difficult to get. Difficult enough that servants regularly fought over them.

"What brings you here?"

His raspy voice made him sound young but brought a sense of weariness to him that didn't exactly match his youthful vibe. He barely looked older than his late twenties after all. He cracked the last of the cauliflower in his hands, running them over water.

"I apologize. The kitchen was rather empty and I made use of the situation. I've made extra for you and others if they wish.
Mordred grinned, her animalistic senses making her giddy for whatever the man was cooking up.

"I'm definitely down for that you old geezer! What you got for me!"

"Mordred."

The tone was firm, solid, and most of all damning. The betrayer froze, their face scrunching into a blitz of guilt, rage, and embarrassment. Lancer Arturia had followed them, entering the seat beside Gudako in front of Hephaestus. She turned to the God, nodding.

"I apologize for my knight's rudeness. She–"

He chuckled softly.

"Children are children. I understand completely. I know they meant no offense."

He turned to her and Gudako felt her jaw drop. The rebellious Mordred, the ever screaming rampaging Mordred, was stunned silent.

"If you're anything like Arturia…you'll have quite the appetite. I'll make some more. It's a simple meal though, so if you continue to be hungry, wait for dinner."

He reached, grabbing another head of cauliflower. Gudako eyed it, narrowing her eyes at Hephaestus. There was not a chance he had only taken enough cauliflower for himself from the beginning. She noted the bowls of spices he had ready as well, seeing that there was far more spices than a single bowl's worth of food could ever be…she hoped anyway.

99% of the servants that stepped foot into this kitchen SUCKED. Hephaestus was so good at everything else…she kind of hoped he was bad at this too.

"Then again," thought Gudako with a smile, "I could throw him at a guitar and see what happens."

Lost in her own thoughts of how to embarrass her newest Heroic Spirit, Arturia looked like someone bit her, as she clenched her jaw and tightened her fists. Not many overlooked her when it came to the complicated relationship between her and Mordred. Nor did they effortless reduce Mordred to silence.

There was a heaviness here now that Gudako rarely sensed with Hephaestus. When it was just the two of them, or even with EMIYA in the group, the conversations flowed so readily. Yet…now her mouth felt heavy, her tongue slick. Still, she wasn't the master of Chaldea for nothing! A little bit of tension wasn't enough to keep her down damnit!

"So, what are you making, hmm?"

"I'm making some Kounoupidi Kapama."
She blinked.

"Greek Cauliflower," he said simply, "that and I'll be making some salad for myself."

She noted a full bowl of salad already. It was filled with Lentil beans, tomatoes, red peppers, onions, cucumbers, olives, herbs, and some cheese. It looked colorful from where she was standing…and also abundant. The bowl was larger than her arms and carried enough food to feed half the human staff of Chaldea! Probably. Certainly looked like it.

"He's full of shit," she thought, smiling.

Only feeding himself? Yea right. Mordred looked rather down, noting nothing but vegetables. He took some oil out from a bottle, heating the pan on medium for a time. He worked silently for a bit, chopping some more vegetables and other ingredients.

"So…you're hungry?"

"Of a sort. It's an old habit you see. Today is a special day," he said.

It was obvious he wanted to keep it to himself…but Mordred wasn't one for reading a room. Nor caring about said room for that matter.

"What sort of shit day do you celebrate with vege–URK!"

She shivered down, the savage light from Arturia's eyes and even Gudako's making her shrink back. The tension popped as loud as Hephaestus laughter. It was a small thing, soft and light. He turned to Mordred, a crinkle to his eyes.

"You remind me of Theros, oh sorry, Colt. He had trouble keeping his thoughts to himself as well."

His smile was wide, but his demeanor was soft, a faint smile intertwined with a memory none of them could see.

"These were my daughter's favorites," he explained, "She enjoyed them greatly. Every year on her birthday, I make sure to make enough for me and her. She had quite the appetite as well!"

Gudako blinked, her eyes near bulging as she stared at Hephaestus.

What God made human food for their divine children?

"I thought Gods didn't eat?" muttered Mordred carelessly.

"She was human of course."

Oh now that was bullshit. She wanted to know more and while she hated herself for it, Gudako hoped Mordred put her shoe in her mouth again and just kept yapping. Instead, the berserker seemed to grow a brain and nodded.

"Hey, who's in the kitchen, huh?"

They all turned to face Muramasa, who was coming in behind EMIYA. The taller of the two stared at Hephaestus, as the man sifted the vegetables in his pan. He nodded towards him, gesturing to his ensemble.

"I'll be done shortly."

Others began to pile in, with Hephaestus neatly cleaning the tools as the last of the cooking took place. EMIYA and Muramasa entered, their usual debate going on.

"I thought the elderly should at least take a break every now and again," muttered the Nameless Hero.

"I'm fine you damn brat, look at me! I can keep making blades for hours longer."

EMIYA finally noticed Hephaestus, his eyes narrowing slightly at the infringement of his domain.

Hephaestus nodded his head.

"Seems someone didn't get the rules broken down quick enough," muttered Muramasa.

"Rules?"

"Well," chuckled Gudako, "the kitchen is unofficially split between a couple of servants. Today is EMIYA's day."

"Ah…I apologize. I'll make sure all the tools are clean."

He took a bowl of each of the dishes he made, quickly eating them. The dishes were already clean, along with most of the utensils used. He seemed lost in his own world, smiling away as he enjoyed the flavors.

The others ate too…and Gudako almost teared up. The flavours were not intense by any means. If anything they felt earthy with pangs of sweetness and spice. Her mouth flooded with the various vegetables and beans. It was a mild flavour but still diverse. Mordered shivered, the taste hurting her mouth for a moment before she could enjoy it.

"...Uh…thanks old man," muttered Mordred.

"Of course. Though, I'm sure the cooks here are more skilled than myself."

Muramasa narrowed his eyes. The lazy gaze of the God of smiths somehow irked him more.

"So…you're the god of smithing hmm?"

"Of a sort," supplied Hephaestus, "nothing I would say is worth mentioning."

"Is that right? Must not be worth much if you don't have pride in your blades."

EMIYA blinked, turning to Muramasa with narrowed eyes. There was a reason he was called the demon smith. It wasn't just his obsession with swords.

It was his noxious competitive nature. The man had spent his entire life attempting to surpass another smith after all, only to finally achieve his goal after he died. Now there was another smith, a divine one. A true way to test his mettle.

Yet, the God of fire merely shrugged.

"I have nothing to prove."

Muramasa rolled his eyes.

"Didn't think that would work. Heard you were new. So, you're a forge god without a forge eh?"

Hephaestus' gaze turned to the side, narrowing slightly as his finished cleaning in silence.

"I mean if all you do is mystic it up, not much of a craftsman are ye?"

It was as obvious to everyone that Muramasa was trying to instigate a conflict, a means of getting Hephaestus to actually forge something, all to compare to his own. It was one of the few things that could turn the old man's gruff nature sour.

"Says the man possessing a young mage's body. You're not much better."

Gudako swallowed, quickly realizing she had forgotten one key factor when it came to having multiple servants.

Some don't clash. EVER.

Muramasa whistled.

"Scathing," he muttered uncaringly, "thought for sure that would work. Got a better reason you won't compare yourself to me?"

"You've already trespassed into the realm of the divine," stated Hephaestus, "there's no need to compare."

"...I wouldn't exactly say I've done that."

It was a sore point for Muramasa. While it was his skill that was needed to craft his noble phantasm, the problem came from the means it was done. In his living life there were smiths that had delved into the realm of the divine, crafting blessed blades. Yet, he was only able to do so when he had effectively died and possessed the perfect material?

It rang in his head constantly, that the swords he made were not truly his own when he activated his noble phantasm. Yet, here was an opportunity to really compare actual skill. Unfortunately, it was convincing the God to participate that was the problem. Muramasa could tell that the usual way of getting servants to act wasn't going to work. Insults and petty words wouldn't get him the result he wanted here….though…there was a connection between them. Maybe it was the hair? But he had a feeling this might work.

"Look," he grumbled, "I genuinely just want to gauge myself alright? I've been told I have the skills to match any god, but let's be honest, who the hell is there to compare here?"

The cause of that rumor looked away, a slight blush to his face. He had stated that Muramasa was the greatest artisan in the world. Though, EMIYA lacked any true experience with the divine to ascertain that as a certainty.

Gudako tensed her shoulders, but relaxed when she saw Hephaestus sigh.

"Is it that important?"
"To me? It's everything."

"...what are the terms?"

The old man grinned.

"Abolsute best. Any magic is allowed. Even your divine what you call its you can use. Chaldea's got a space, messes with space and whatnot. That will make sure to contain any of our fallout. We each get seven days to craft our very best. What do you say?"

"...seven days…very well."

So they went, the first servant that Hephaestus was actually interacting with. Gudako smiled, enjoying the sight of him seemingly bickering with Muramasa. Yet, when she turned to EMIYA, he seemed more worried than glad. If anything, the man looked about a moment away from bursting after them.

"They're not gonna kill each other EMIYA, so relax," she said smiling.

He tried to smile for her benefit, but his eyes were glued to the door as the two smiths left. His hands were as efficient as ever though, the sound of sizzling meat bringing Mordred to a drool.

It wasn't going to be that bad…right?

-7 days later-

Gudako frowned a bit, her worried expression having developed into a fullblown clusterfuck anxiety attack.

It wasn't because bad things had happened.

It wasn't because Hephaestus and Muramasa started fighting each other to the death…it…it was because.

It was because they were crafting.

"HARDER YOU IDIOT, PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!"

Gawain and a few other servants were holding the line, their backs braced against the double doors of room. The dragon slayers Sigurd and Seigfried were on either side of Gawain, with Karna on the far end. Each were absorbing the heat and pressure as best they could.

Though…why the wall around the door wasn't breaking she didn't rightly know.

"They're breaking the Hyperbolic time Chamber!" cried Gudako, tears beginning to form from the heat that was spreading.

The room's door was steaming a cherry red, numerous servants all clustered around it, eyeing the glowing sparks that erupted from the cracks every now and again. A chaldea technician was crying her eyes out along with another, the two working tirelessly to contain whatever was happening. It was fruitless of course.

"Make them stop Gudako!" cried the man, "they're gonna wreck it at this rate! AND STOP CALLING IT THAT!"

Gawain and the others were effectively fire proof…or at least should have been. Gudako gawked at the sight of Gawain actually sweating, the man's face having veins bulging at his immense effort.

Various servants were buffing them as well, even Merlin. Said wizard was staring blankly as he casted his various magicks.

"How long has this been going on?" whispered Gudako.

"This is the third day master!" grunted Gawain with a smile, "don't worry this is-GRK!"

The doors shuddered as a force blew her off her feet. She shook her head, having a new respect for the gallant Gawain. The man's clothing was burning away, some third degree burns echoing across his body.

"ARE YOU ALMOST DONE!?" he yelled.

"They're crazy?" muttered one servant eating food, "friggen crazy."

"YOU CAN HELP YOU KNOW!?"

"Alright!" said Gudako, "I know I was gone for a few days getting mats but I'm here now! By the power of my command seal–"

Then it stopped. Everyone eyed it, waiting for another colossal boom. When it seemed truly over, Gawan and the others slumped to the floor, their bodies steaming. The various buffs on their bodies rapidly healed them. They all stood, moving away from the door, but ready to slam back into it, just in case.

"Finally, they're done," muttered Sigurd.

The doors slowly opened, with Muramasa leaving the room drenched in sweat. The entire room was baked black, not a spec of space freed from the scorching flame. He chuckled, his arms shaking.

He smiled at the sword he carried. A simple Katana, with a beautiful wave pattern across the spine. It cracked and he shook his head.

"Another failure. Damn."

As Hephaestus left however, his was an entirely different ensemble. If before he had been wearing normal clothes, now he was simply decked in a black toga draped around his waist. His upper body was bare, showing the numerous cracks along his body. Slung over his shoulder was a strange blade.

It reeked of power but the blade itself was rather odd. It was thick with jagged protrusions, with each segment screaming a crimson color and radiating an ungodly heat. He smiled at Muramasa.

"I must admit, your talents are above and beyond Muramasa. I can firmly say that you are indeed equal to divine smiths."

Muramasa only shook his head, smirking.

"Says the God that's above them."

That made everyone quiet. Hephaestus placed his sword against his shoulder. The cracks widened a bit, absorbing the blade and as such the heat dissipated.

"I thought you would be happier with our collaboration."

"To think we'd both finish within a day."

"Wait what?" muttered Gudako.

The two men seemed to finally notice everyone around them. Muramasa looked between his feet, grimacing at the scorch marks.

"Jeez, what were you brats doing out here?"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!"

Both smiths turned to the chaldea technician. The poor woman was on the verge of a breakdown as she looked in the room. She couldn't utter another word, for her eyes widened. In the center was a blade.

It shimmered with a slightly blue hue, the blade ethereal and pure. Muramasa eyed it, turning to Hephaestus.

"You showed me it was possible…but I still got a ways to go it would seem."

"It is difficult to weave concepts together," admitted Hephaestus, "it's a practiced skill rather than a purely learned one. I can teach you the concept all you like, but it will be your efforts that develop it."

He held his hand out to Muramasa.

"It was a pleasure, young man."

For once, Muramasa couldn't argue.

"It sure as hell was. Can't believe we recreated the Tsumukari here…I can't wield the damn thing. You might as well take it."

The blade floated to Hephaestus, resting comfortably in his hands.

"Having this in my early years would have solved a lot of problems," admitted Hephaestus. "Don't sell yourself short. Out of all the divine smiths I've known across my life…only two could be compared to you."

That made Muramasa smirk.

"How were they compared to you is the real question…"

Hephaestus looked to the side, unwilling to peer into his peer's knowing gaze.

"Hmph, knew it. They were dog water compared to you, weren't they."

"That is not at all true," he muttered.

"Bullshit. Anyways, I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

"We should clean the–"

"Hell no. I broke that room the last time and got chewed out for fixing the damn thing! Let them handle it."

The sword radiated power and much like the other one was sealed in Hephaestus' body. The large shirtless god stopped, eyeing a woman that had tried to meld with the crowd. He blinked, disbelief growing.

"You're?"

The woman seemed to shrink, her face turning red as Hephaestus towered over her. His arms crossed as he smiled.

"Ah, you must be Aphrodite."

She sputtered a bit…and disappeared.

"...was it something I said?"

-End-