Author’s Notes: I should really stop deluding myself by thinking “small” scenes will actually stay at their (< 2000) allotted word limit. If it does seem like I’m focusing on the OC too much, please note I hadn't planned on this. This entire night scene was supposed to be one chapter instead of three. My writing has a way of expanding and growing on the fly. Anyways, the next few chapters should be some Shirou, Rin and Caster action. Assuming small scenes stay small... oh crap...
=====
- Threads of Fate -
- Chapter 8 -
- Nightshift II -
Another blue shell fell into the ever growing pile of shotgun shells at McNab’s feet. Pumping his Kel-Tec KSG, McNab shouldered the shotgun and aimed down the sights at his next target. He pulled the trigger and watched as another enhanced Dead sprawl backwards, a smoking crater where its ribcage used to be. Static flashed in his view as his glasses’ Low-Light Vision Enhancement attempted to counteract the sudden flash of light on his right from Sable’s Magecraft.
Firing off another shot, his shotgun clicked empty and he took cover back behind one of the parked cars on the side of the road. He knew it was silly, taking cover when none of their enemies even used projectile weapons, but old habits died hard. He flicked the switch to the second tube of his shotgun. Seven in the gun and seven in reserve. If he’d known they were going to be fighting through this many undead he would have brought bigger hardware.
Beside him stood Sable, her M1911 delivering pinpoint shots to any of the Dead that got past his gunfire. He recognized from the focus in her eyes and the way her muscles were drawn taut that she was using reinforcement to steady her grip and improve her aim.
As much as he enjoyed laughing at how technologically backwards most Magi were, he couldn’t argue how effective their spells were at the moment. With reinforced muscles, Sable was able to hold her M1911 in one hand with the accuracy of a veteran marksman. With reinforced eyesight and hearing, she could detect threats long before he could. With a simple channeled spell, she could annihilate a field of opponents that would have taken him an entire magazine.
Her other hand held a faint glow of white as she prepared a spell. Finally gathering enough prana, the blonde agent let loose a blinding beam of light that sliced through a wave of advancing enhanced Dead; the asphalt igniting and melting under the extreme heat. Unable to feel the damage to their bodies, the Dead continued charging forward and their momentum carried the top halves of their body to the ground. Some stayed down while others crawled forth leaving a trail of crimson behind them, their lust for blood overriding any other concerns. Several pulls of the trigger on Sable’s M1911 put them out of their misery.
“I knew we should have taken another street to get to the car,” she said. She ejected the spent magazine from her M1911 before slamming home a new one and racking the slide.
“Could we not argue this right now, Ma’am?” he yelled. The sheer amount of firepower he’d put down range was starting to make him deaf. “Besides, wasn’t it ‘your’ idea to take a right at the intersection?” Sable shot him a glare but before she could snap back with a witty remark, her attention shifted and she looked behind her shoulder.
“Leaper!” she yelled.
McNab turned in time to see one of Sable’s spells shredding an enhanced Dead in mid leap. He watched the corpse float in the air for a moment before it came crashing downward. He leapt to the side in order to avoid the shower of blood and gore that splattered where he was crouching a moment ago. The Leaper’s corpse landed on the car, denting the hood and cracking the windshield into a hundred spider webs. That was close. Blood was always annoying to clean off, even if you ignored the fact it made for awkward conversation with civilians and police officers.
He looked at the battlefield around them. Dozens of corpses covered the city street, their bodies immolated from “Holy Fire” rounds or burnt and smoldering from Sable’s spells. The scene reminded him of those futile charges on the bloody fields of Passchendaele. Blood splattered the asphalt road and pooled around the corpses, the runoff disappearing into the shadow of city drains. In the air, he could smell the sickly sweet smell of Holy Fire oil burning.
It didn’t matter. In a few moments, all the corpses would be sand and after a few more minutes there wouldn’t even be a physical trace of them at all; like smoke disappearing with the wind. With the road now devoid of any immediate threats, McNab took the time to reload his shotgun. However, halfway through inserting a new shell a thought occurred to him.
“Ma’am, we have names for these things now? Why are we calling them Leapers?” he said turning towards his partner. He inserted the shell and reached for several more from his pouch.
“Well... yup. They have big meaty legs and they jump really far. What else would you call them?” she replied quizzically, as if the answer was obvious. His reply was to simply roll his eyes.
“And what about our cheerful friends over there?” He said. He was referring to the other type of enhanced Dead they’d encountered tonight. The skin around their sharp jagged teeth had receded, leaving with an unsettling and permanent macabre grin.
“Slashers of course. Look at those mean looking claws on their arms. Hold on,” she said, before aiming and firing two rounds into a Slasher that was still twitching. The body stopped moving afterwards..
“One classified by movement method and the other by armament. Seems like a messy way to label our enemies,” McNab said with a shrug. He reached down into his ammo pouch only to find to find it empty. That left him with seven remaining shells and his sidearm.
“I think it sounds ‘cooler’ this way,” she replied.
They were in an organisation created to deal with bloodthirsty undead creatures that could consume an entire city and Sable wanted to do something because it was “cool,” which would also explain the sports car and her Hayabusa. Forget the Dead and the vampire, he was going to go insane from Sable’s prattling. Closing his eyes, McNab sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as Sable chuckled at his frustration in the background. Luckily, the streets were still empty and devoid of people despite the gunfire mere moments ago. That saved him a headache.
He wasn't sure how the Magus Association had managed to hide the Grail War from the people in this town, but but he was damned happy that Magecraft also extended to their vampire hunt tonight. Normally, dozens of people would have been outside watching them and fixing that public incident would have involved miles of paperwork and Agency assets. To avoid that, he would have gladly taken on another dozen Dead. He hated paperwork probably more than Dead Apostles themselves.
“Come on, let’s go. The car is this way,” he said, trying to ignore what she had just said. He continued walking forward towards the cul-de-sac where he’d parked his car.
“Her car,” he mentally corrected himself. In the long years working with the Agency, he would have never gotten a car that stuck out so much. After they were done this observation mission, he’d have to have a word with her and cool things, although he doubted it would change much. His partner was especially stubborn that way.
“Right-O!” she replied cheerfully, falling in step behind her partner.
They had made it to the center of the cul-de-sac when an unnaturally warm wind blew around them and he stopped in his tracks. The wind rattled windows and forced him to raise his hands to shield his eyes. He looked behind and saw Sable had conjured her black cap from somewhere and was trying to use it to shield her face, like a welder’s mask, with questionable success.
Behind them, the bodies of the fallen Dead flew together, combining and melted together like a nauseous human omelette with numerous arms and legs protruding from the sides.
“Ew... now that’s gross,” said Sable, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“ Eh, you get used to this sort of thing after a while,” McNab commented with a shrug. Reaching into the depths of his suit jacket, he took a swig from his flask.
From the pile of flesh, a pair of large misshapen legs sprouted forth and the newly birthed monstrosity took its first steps towards them even as its form continued to grow. Two thick muscular arms burst forth from the golem and a mutated head finally appeared at the top; its row of shark-like teeth baying for blood. The grey mass of flash was now easily taller than a semitrailer and could have filled a room all by itself. McNab wasn’t sure where it had gotten all its extra mass, but he had a hunch the vampires magecraft was to blame. Of course, that was also the explanation for damn near everything the Agency investigated. Why couldn’t they just deal with swamp gas or weather balloons for once?
“So... what are we going to call this thing, Sable?” McNab asked her, not taking his eyes off the creature.
“Hmm...” said Sable in thought. She raised her knuckles to her chin and pondered the question over. “How about Fattie?”
“Probably not. That’d be insensitive to overweight people,” he replied. “How about Tank?”
“Nah. That doesn’t really fit that well... How about Pudge?” Sable suggested.
“Let’s... let’s go with that for the moment. Call it a work in progress?” he replied.
“Sounds good,” she replied. “So... I guess our break’s over...?”
“Yup...” he said.
They glanced at one another for a moment before raising their weapons as one and opened fire. High explosive slugs mixed with .45 caliber bullets and pulses of blinding light as the duo cut loose against the aptly named Pudge. Sable’s magecraft sliced through the numerous layers of flesh and fat like a surgeon’s scalpel, slicing pieces of flesh off the Pudge’s body. Holy Fire slugs penetrated the massive bulk before detonating inside, slamming the creature backwards with each miniature explosion.
McNab’s shotgun clicked empty at the same time Sable’s M1911 slide locked open. Silence permeated the street as their target simply tottered on its toes... at least he thought the streets were silent. He couldn’t quite tell at the moment with the ringing coming from his ears. When he’d decided to bring this much ammo, he hadn’t actually planned on using it all.
The Pudge took one final step towards them before toppling dead to the ground in front of them. Fires simmered and smoke floated from the plethora of wounds along its body. The smell of rancid flesh and melting fat oozed from the body and began to permeate the air.
“Ha! Victory!” cheered Sable, thrusting a fist into the air. “How about a victory sandwich after all this?”
“Only if it’s not mine,” McNab replied as he shouldered the empty shotgun to his back and drew his Sig P229.
“No promises,” his partner replied as she re-loaded her M1911.
A childish voice called out to them from behind.“But it’s still dark outside. We have so many games to play tonight.” They turned around to see the Dead Apostle Amarante perched atop a streetlight, her small hands clasped together behind her.
Their first two bullets missed the target as the raven haired girl dodged by leaping high into the air before landing on the asphalt road; right into the Shin’i agent’s trained gunsights. The next eighteen bullets did not miss. Running dry on their weapons, they reloaded their pistols before heading to their downed target. Oddly enough, McNab noted there was no blood on the asphalt where Amarante lay. Staring down at their target, the loli vampire’s eyes shot open and began a shrill laugh. Scary for the uninitiated but that might have scared both of them if they hadn’t been through similar jump scares before. Dead Apostles always had a weird obsession with theatrics. McNab gave Sable an inquisitive look.
“Too small of a magical presence. It’s not her,” she said, shaking her head. “T’would seem like she sent a fake to watch us.”
“Great. A bloody photocopied familiar,” muttered McNab as he threw his hands upward in annoyance. “Knew it was too easy.”
The bullet-ridden familiar continued maniacally laughing, the entire situation a big joke to her. Amarante’s head turned and her unblinking red eyes staring towards them. “You’re all going to die a horrible death when I'm through with you,” the head said with a chilling smile.
“Go to sleep, kid, it’s past your bedtime,” said Sable before raising her pistol and pulling the trigger. A clean hole appeared in the copy’s forehead before the body withered and turned into ash. “Ha! My first decent one-liner since forever!”
McNab rolled his eyes although he couldn’t help but smile. Sable did have a point, her attempt at one-liners had been filled with horrible puns and eye-rolling jokes on their last operation. Reaching into his suit, he fished out a plastic vial before kneeling down and scooping some of the Dead Apostle’s ash inside. He sealed the lid before tossing the vial to his partner which she almost dropped.
“Think you can trace where Amarante is from those remains?” he asked her. He’d seen other Shin’i agents trace Dead Apostles the same way, although normally they’d have a full team of Magi on hand instead just one magus.
“Maybe... Although, without her actual blood I’ll only be able to narrow it down to a certain area,” she said. She stared into the vial. “It’s weird though. Those clone familiars are expensive to make. They’re not something you just throw around willy nilly.”
“Really? Huh... I wonder why...” said McNab.
The sound of rending metal answered their unasked question. Turning around, they saw the Pudge back upon its feet, wielding a lamppost as a makeshift weapon. Flesh bubbled and wounds scabbed over its previous battle damage. Even as they watched, the area around one of the Pudge’s wounds boiled over before healing back together with scar tissue. The monstrosity had regenerated all the damage it had taken quite literally when their backs had been turned.
Roaring in anger, the Pudge hurled its impromptu weapon towards the duo.
“Down!” yelled Sable.
His partner pressed her palms outward, and a flowing wall of air formed in front of them. The lamppost slammed against the magical barrier before the air wrapped around it like a transparent blanket. Lifting her arm upwards as if she were wielding an invisible spear herself, she mimicked a throwing motion and the post rocketed forward, impaling the creature through the chest and embedding the streetlight into the road behind it.
Sable began to fall and McNab rushed to catch her. Grabbing her under the arms, he helped keep her steady.
“Heh... sorry Nab. Looks like I may have burnt myself out with that,” said Sable with a weak smile. Pressed against her, he could feel the heat radiating from her body through his suit and smell the slight hint of that annoying perfume she wore. Carefully, he draped Sable’s arm over his shoulders and sat her next to one of the cars on the side of the road.
“Still that little kid from all those years ago. You still don’t know how to manage your prana,” he said while wiping the perspiration from her forehead. Her t-shirt was soaked with sweat and her body felt hot despite the cold winter air, the strain of magecraft on her body.
“What are you, my dad?” she muttered.
“No, that’d be Instructor Sagara. Besides, didn’t he explicitly warn you about blowing all your prana in one battle? Kind of like what you did?” he said.
“Shut up, dad,” Sable replied. She narrowed her eyes at him and pouted at him. Despite the hulking death standing at the end of the street, he gave Sable a grin.
“Come on, get your pistol back out. Your dance partner is coming back,” he said.
Having tried and failed repeatedly to pull out the protruding lamppost sticking out of its chest, the Pudge’s brain chose the second simplest option. With a sickening squelch that would have brought shivers to trained soldiers, the Pudge simply ripped the post through the side of its body, spraying bits of flesh, fat and droplets of blood across the road and turned the asphalt into a butcher’s cutting board. Finally freed from its confinement, the Pudge trudged forth and grabbed an unlucky neighbor’s car before lifting the metric tonne of steel above its head.
“I’m running low on juice. Don’t suppose you have something to block that?” said Sable while glancing towards him. He shook his head.
They both leapt in opposite directions, just in time to avoid the Honda slamming where they had just been taking cover. Briefly checking to make sure they each other was alright, the two agents opened fire with their sidearms, their bullets slamming into the Pudge’s body. The massive monster gave a primal rage before shuffling over and grasping the body of a small white pickup truck. Holding the vehicle by the front, it hurled the truck high into the air towards them.
A rush of wind blew past McNab and his eyes registered a blur of something blue leaping into the air. Whatever had just passed by him was fast; insanely fast. There was a glimpse of red before the truck fell to the ground short; the vehicle bisected into two distinct pieces. A blue-clad figure landed between the pieces, knees bent and arm down in a three point stance. Skin tight cloth armour covered the warrior’s body. The man’s eyes were closed and several locks of blue hair lay in front of his face; having escaped his hairband and ponytail. Held behind him, locked in his elbow was the crimson spear, Gae Bolg.
“You two really should leave this stuff to the real heroes,” said Lancer with a cocky grin. With a lightning fast twist, he shifted his spear atop his shoulders and casually hung both arms on the long weapon. To his right, McNab thought he heard Sable muffle a sound that was a mix between an eek and a squee.
The roar of the Pudge interrupted Lancer’s entrance and the Servant clucked his teeth in annoyance. “Tut, business before pleasure,” he said with annoyance.
Lancer turned around in time to duck under the motorcycle the Pudge had thrown at him, the edge of the front tire rustling the top of the Servant’s hair. He took two steps and leapt into the air before using the next thrown car as a stepping stone and propelled himself forth. His body spun like a professional acrobat in the air before landing in a crouch. He then took off in a sprint before leaping sideways into the air to avoid the Pudge’s thrown lamppost; the long pole whirling towards Lancer like a scythe. His muscles grew tense as Lancer arched his back and pulled his legs upwards and over the thrown weapon in a graceful backflip, always body always a hairbreadth from hitting the metal. Once over the pole, he landed back down on the ground in a three point stance.
“Show off,” muttered McNab.
“Heh, you’ve got a nice throwing arm but is that truly the best you’ve got? I’m getting bored over here,” said Lancer, both arms open wide in challenge.
Either maddened by Lancer’s taunt or its own failure at killing his opponent, the Pudge grabbed a nearby truck and hoisted it above its head. As they watched, its body warped and transformed. Where there had been simply fat and flesh turned into rippling muscle that bulged outward and flexed to support the truck’s weight above its head. The Pudge, its name no longer an accurate description, now looked like a towering bulked-up bodybuilding Atlas the way it carried the truck above its head; a sort of undead ubermensch. The creature took two tentative steps forward before breaking off into a run, its size belying its speed. First with a hop that cracked the pavement, the Pudge then leapt into the air towards Lancer with the large vehicle still in its hands.
“It can fly that high?” muttered Sable, her face a mix of confusion and amazement.
“Technically, it doesn’t have wings so it’s not flying...” McNab muttered in response.
Pudge brought the truck over its head and slammed it down on Lancer; merging the cabin and the engine into mass of mashed steel and plastic. Glass tinkled to the ground as the pavement cracked under the blow. Silence descended upon the scene as the Pudge surveyed its handiwork for a moment. Satisfied with Lancer’s death, the Pudge turned and focused its eyes on its original targets.
“And here I thought I’d actually find a challenge tonight,” came Lancer’s voice from the night sky.
The Servant of the Lance materialized in the air above his target and drove his lance downward. Gae Bolg, the cursed spear, impaled the Pudge from spine to sternum. With a forceful pull, Lancer eviscerated the Pudge from stomach to groin, spilling organs and meat to the ground below, before leaping over its head. He gave a toothed smile before revealing a rock he had procured from a nearby lawn. Etched on the rock was a single rune that glowed molten hot. Tossing the rock up and down as if he were a kid with a baseball, Lancer threw the stone high into the air before batting it forward with his spear.
It was a testament to the Dead Apostles mastery of reinforcement that the Pudge still stood standing despite missing half its abdomen and torso. In the next second, it would probably would have wished to stay down. Lancer’s stone slammed into the Pudge’s gaping chest wound and detonated like a grenade, wreathing the Dead in flames. Even without Gae Bolg’s curse against healing, the rune itself would have been enough to kill it.
An inhuman roar issued from the Pudge as the flames engulfed its body. Flesh melted off its body in large rivulets like butter yet the creature still stepped forward, advancing towards the blue Servant.
“Sorry, playtime’s over,” said Lancer before slashing the crimson spear downward and finished off his original work. With two thumps, the monster’s flaming body collapsed to the asphalt floor; finally dead.
With the Pudge now nothing but a burning pile of ashes, Lancer returned his attention to the two of them still hiding behind cars. Lancer swung his Noble Phantasm over his left shoulder and strolled over towards Sable, who was, despite her best efforts, failing to burrow herself further into the side of a Toyota’s hood. In between the hood and Sable’s cap brim he thought there might have even been a person there.
Eventually, Lancer stood in front of Sable, waiting; her eyes about level with his waist. With nowhere left to hide, she stood up and faced the Servant.
“I... I... Uhh... h... hi, Lancer?” she said, stammering.
Lancer stared at her with an amused smile before catching her in a smoldering kiss that caused the blonde to lean backwards. Sable’s back arched as Lancer moved forwards even as his arm wrapped around her back, pressing their bodies together. They held the kiss for a moment before Lancer pulled back, licking his lips and enjoying the taste of the kiss.
“I believe it’s customary for the hero to receive a kiss from the lady after the battle?” Lancer said. McNab wasn’t sure if it was possible, but that shit-eating grin Lancer wore on his face had grown even bigger. Also, if Sable’s face grew any redder he thought she’d start glowing like a stoplight.
“You know, you rem...” Lancer began to say.
Jumping into the air, Sable’s legs latched onto Lancer’s waist while she encircled his muscular body with her arms. Locking lips with the Irish hero, her tongue intertwined with his as she gave him a sweltering, passionate kiss. One of her hands traced the taut muscles of Lancer’s back while the other ruffled his dark blue hair.
McNab’s jaw dropped open. “What th... what was she... Is she nuts?!” Looking at Lancer’s expression, he’d been just as surprised as McNab was.
After what McNab thought were several long and, for him, rather awkward moments, his partner released her prey from her clutches and stumbled backwards several steps. He could see her breathe in the winter air as she panted from her kiss.
“Then I guess that means you owe me a favor for that one,” she said, her voice husky and out of breath.
Despite her forceful kiss McNab could tell by the way her hands fidgeted together and the way she was trying to grind imaginary pebbles under her feet into dust that she was nervous. All grown up and yet still a scared kid on the inside.
Lancer simply stood there, a slightly dazed expression on his face at what the blonde agent had just done, before giving a hearty laugh.
“You remind me of my old Master. Mmm, more forceful but just as cute too. I think I could get used to bumping into you at night,” he said. Lancer turned away from them, as if he heard someone call him, before squinting in annoyance. “Tsk. Seems like my Master wants me to return home just as it was getting good. Anyways, maybe I’ll see you again.”
With a single leap, he twirled twice in the air before landing upon the light across the street. The Servant turned back towards them, as if he’d forgotten something, before saying, “Hey, cap girl. What was your name?”
“Sable. Like the animal,” she replied.
“Then it seems I owe you a favor in the future, Ms. Sable,” Lancer replied.
With a final wave goodbye, he leapt into the air once more before disappearing into the darkness. Sable stared towards where Lancer had stood, hand still up in the air like some love-struck girl, before eventually turning back towards McNab. She saw her partner leaned back against a nearby car, an amused smirk plastered upon his face.
“What?” she said inquisitively.
“Oh, nothing. If you’re finished mouth diving into all the Servants in the war, I’m all out of ammo and some of us actually have some work to do in the morning,” said McNab, pushing off the car. He’d have to admit that only half of his voice was ire; the other half was amusement and wonder at how far he’d be able to goad Sable regarding her kiss tonight.
“B... but... I did th.. I mean, I was just distracting him! Yeah...” she said. She muttered something about alliances and allies under her breath.
“Uh huh. Uh huh,” McNab said, unconvinced. “Well maybe you can distract Saber and Caster the next time they're around. Anyway, I’ll be waiting in the car.” Ignoring the several flustered comments coming from his partner, McNab headed in the direction of his car.
“Her car,” McNab reminded himself again.
=====
- Thoughts of Fire and Words of Steel -
Rin Tohsaka stared into the bright fireplace, embracing the warmth that it brought to her chest and face. Besides the sound of crackling firewood and the clink of fine china, the house was silent. Rin placed the empty china cup down onto the silver tray. She didn’t normally use the houses fireplace, the houses heating normally being sufficient, but on this cold winter night it seemed appropriate.
She had modified her three friends’ memories after finding them in the bathroom. It had taken her long moments and a considerable amount of her own prana, but she had done it with enough time to escape while the sirens were still in the distance. The memory alterations had take a lot of energy out of her, but the alternative would have been...
Blood. Blood draining down the drain. Blood splattered against the bathroom tiles. Blood on the curtains and blood stained against their clothes. It was everywhere...
Tohsaka shook her head to clear the images from her mind. It wasn’t real. She knew Makidera, Himuro and Saegusa were safe; she’d seen to that. However, she knew they had been lucky. Without the intervention from those two strangers, Rin knew things could have been much worse. The illusion she saw could have been reality. And for what? Because some Servant might ambush them? She was the best. Let them come and damned be the consequences. She would kill them all.
One of the blocks of wood collapsed in the fireplace, sending cinders into the air and shooting flames even higher upward. The sudden motion distracted Tohsaka and she unclenched the fist she hadn’t known she’d been making. Taking one of the blocks, Rin tossed it into the fire. She found an odd catharsis in watching the wood slowly being consumed by the fire.
Tohsaka’s mind wandered to a conversation several days ago. Archer had been talking to her about what her wish would be. Her response was that she had none for the Grail. She wasn’t in this war for any wish, she was in it to win. Victory was the objective and the prize. People often asked why men and women climbed mountains and risked their lives to reach Everest’s peak. “Because it’s there,” a climber had said. Her response was no different... and yet... this victory wasn’t everything.
Archer had asked her before about using her wish to ‘rule the world’ instead of letting it go to waste. “The world is just another word for the things you value around you, right? In that case, I’ve ruled the world ever since I was born. If you’re telling me to rule the world, I already do,” was what she had said.
She already ruled everything in her world. It was perfect. However, what happened if something dared to attack her world? Even destroy it? Her mind wandered back to the image of her friends, sitting in pools of their own blood... To the girl who was now orphaned, without a sister, father or mother to guide her. What if that had been Ayako? Or Taiga? Could she live with herself if she could have stopped their deaths and did nothing?
The clinking of china interrupted Tohsaka’s thoughts once more as Archer laid a new pot of tea on the table while removing the empty old one. It was the third pot Archer had made. “Rin. It was already late when we returned home. I think you should sleep or else you’ll be tired if we’re forced to fight a Servant tom...”
“Archer, you said you knew a lot about hunting down vampires, right?” Rin asked, cutting her Servant off. For the first time since she returned, Tohsaka made eye contact with Archer.
“Uh, yes. Why do you ask, Rin?” Archer said.
“Back when we were on the skyscraper in Shinto, you were right. I’ve been ignoring this Dead Apostle for far too long, handing off the responsibility to Kotomine when it’s obvious he’s too busy with the Grail War. I am the supervisor of Fuyuki. It is my responsibility to oversee the people’s safety from these threats. From tonight onward, we change our night patrols,” she said. Her gaze returned to the flickering fire.
“How so?” said Archer. A small crease of worry bent his brow.
“It’s simple. We’re going to hunt this Dead Apostle down. We’re going to find her and corner her until there’s nowhere left for her to hide. And once we do, We. Will. Kill. Her,” Tohsaka said, her words clad in steel.
Archer watched the light and shadows of the flames dance across the room and reflect in Tohsaka’s aquamarine eyes. The Servant had fought demons and vampires of staggering might without hesitation in his previous life. However, at the moment Archer felt a shiver of fear run up his spine.
=====
Originally Posted by NewAgeOfPower
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
