[FF] Grail Works, Ltd.: Fate/Anarchy (Type-Moon/Scion crossover)

[Kieran]

Honestly, come to think of it, I would be happier to have the sword in question be a plot hook for a later story. I hope that's alright for you guys.

Certainly - and we're a bit behind schedule, with a few changes to our IRL stuff, but should hopefully have something ready by next week . . . Even if it's just the "Bad End."

[Xamusel]

Hoo, boy... this doesn't bode well, does it?

Still, with all our luck combined, we'll be able to live long enough to see the end of this setting's story.

[hatori]

Oh yes. Almost nearly forgot.

Happy Birthday Takara!

[Kieran]

Indeed.

[RanmaBushiko]

Yeah, we're working on writing, though we're both a bit slow right now. Most of Kieran's writing wound up being on his days off, though. With how we had to change around when we'd play our weekly D&D game, though, it got moved to the day when he's most available for writing.

At the same time, I've finally plowed through the writer's block, so you all get the Scathach Interlude!

Sidestory: Lancer Of Red






July 2nd, 2004
Day 1 on the Wolfen



I sit, one hand on the newest bottle of alcohol that Touko's given me, as I watch over the young woman beside me, in her new body. She sleeps, for now.



It's easy, to take a sip. Enjoy the alcohol, and savor it's taste. Far more easy to focus on the burning of each new type, rather than focus on things. For a while, I just savor the taste, before changing the channel.



So few channels here are in anything I understand. Though, I understand enough of English that it seems to be easiest...



"Scylla? Would you have any channels for other shows, besides this?" I speak up, softly.



"Not a problem, Miss. Would you like entertainment? Perhaps a cooking show?" The Scylla's voice resonates softly in the room.



"Perhaps entertainment, then cooking next? Is there anything your creator has made, perhaps?"



"Ooh, that tends to be quality entertainment! Yeah, lemme pull up Episode 1 of that first series for you..."



I settle back, sipping on my drink, and enjoying the burning going down my throat, as the television shifts to... a bunch of black and white, with a hissing noise, for a moment.



Then it shows a long hangar, with lots of boxes, machines and other random equipment within.



"Good EVENING folks! And this is the very first episode of our new show, MECHA MANHUNT HIDE AND SEEK!" Erik's voice echoes over the speakers, even if it's softly.



"And tonight, we have one lucky contestant, trying to hide from a giant war mech out to find them. I've been blindfolded, for this event, because my dear, lovely wife has worked to set this up for us, and it's a surprise to even me."



Erik rises up from the floor, to my amusement, blindfolded. He's right in front of the giant mech that looks like an animal, too.



"Oh, definitely, dear! Now, tell them the rules!" Tamamo's voice echoes, much to my slowly growing smile.



"Definitely, my love! The rules are as follows! First. The Hider has to go from the beginning to the end, but can hide wherever they want. Second. The Seeker must get out of the war mech and chase the Hider, and if they fail to get to the Hider, they must return to the war mech, and try to catch up before the Hider can find a new hiding spot. Third, the war mech cannot be used to tag the Hider. The Seeker must tag the Hider personally. No stomping on contestants, folks. It's not very fair. Fourth, radar isn't allowed. You have the war machine's flashlights, and that's it. No Infrared, no Nightvision."




Erik pauses, slowly, at the sound of the war machine firing up close to him. "Dear...? Why am I in the hide and seek area?"



"Why, dear. Did you really forget that Kitsune are pranksters? If you're going to get other people to join in on this, you first need to set an example, don't you?" Tamamo's voice echoes out of the war machine's speakers, even as I smile.



Even if this is contrived, this is definitely still amusing.



I watch, bemused, as Erik takes his blindfold off, throws it to the ground, then pouts at the war machine his wife is in. "Fine! Fine. I'll be the first one. YOU get to be second, though."



Tamamo's voice is full of glee, as she retorts. "Oh, of course, dear! And when you get your hands on me, I'm sure we've got plenty of options for things to do, hmm?"



Erik pauses, then laughs, one that sounds more amused than normal. "Oh, of course. Of course, love. Now, shall we get started? Go to the far end, so I have a chance."



It's fascinating to watch the following chase, as Tamamo uses the war machine to carefully check boxes, as well as behind cover, using height to her advantage to search for her husband. Darting from place to place, hiding under or in boxes, at one point even hiding on the ceiling by clinging to several ladder rungs as the machine passed below him.



I can see how he uses cover well. It's all rather quite fascinating.



Eventually, it all comes to an end, as Tamamo sees her husband beside the point where he has to reach, to win. She stares, then laughs loudly, before chasing after him anyways. "Of course my handsome husband figured out how to beat me! Now, next episode, folks! My husband is going to be the one chasing me! Will the Wolfson be the one to capture the Fox? Or perhaps this Fox will outsmart the Wolf? Tune in next time!"



I can't help but giggle, at the byplay at the end. It's much like an episodic play.



"How about that cooking show, Scylla?" I smile, as I ask. "This was interesting, but I'm curious to see how cuisine fares, too. Is it the same for Gods, or has it changed...?"



"No problem! Glad to give you something to enjoy! And the Boss has modern cuisine tastes, while his wife is decidedly more Japanese in nature. But this should be interesting."



The Television changes, again, showing a scene of two boats on what looks like a lake. Or perhaps an indoor pool? With a sign saying "The Iron Chef Tamamo Versus Norse Chef Erik! The battle begins!"



One boat looks much like Viking Raider boats did, if with a shack on top of it that looks decidedly Viking in Nature. The other shows an elaborate boat, with what looks suspiciously like a house made of Wood and Paper on it.



"AHA! We meet again, my rival Chef!" Erik steps out from the hut, war paint on his face, as he points at the other boat. "Come, let us do battle by cooking! I shall show you my newest meal! Venison stew!"



Tamamo leaves her 'House' on her boat, smiling. "Come now. We both know that I've won every time for this, dear 'rival' of mine. Why not settle down, and enjoy my cooking forever? It'll be healthy for you!"



A wood sign, in the background, appears out of the water, showing a drawn lightning bolt, as Erik glares at Tamamo, to the sound of Thunder.



"Never! I shall always try to triumph!" Erik shouts, with glee.



Tamamo opens a fan in front of her face, smirking. "Oh, I think you'll fail after a while of trying. And anyways. Venison stew? I'm sure you'll love my Sushi more..."



Erik pauses, then sticks his head in. "Wait... where IS the venison! Here, venison! I hunted you last week, I KNOW I still have some of... huh. Rats, and no venison. Well, then! I shall prove you wrong! With ratatouille. MADE WITH REAL RAT!"



With those words, Erik rushes in, while Tamamo giggles behind her fan, before eloquently walking into her own home, and pulling out a fishing rod.



Cue the scene of her happily sitting in front of an aquarium, her fishing rod inside, and obviously plastic fish swimming inside, then her pulling the fishing rod out, with a real fish "hooked" onto her fishing hook.




"Oh, a nice Salmon! I'll be eating hearty tonight, unlike my self proclaimed rival!" She smiles, as she works to prepare the fish, along with easy to reach ingredients in her kitchen.



In Erik's kitchen, on the other hand, screams of rage come from the outside of the shanty on the boat, as he chases down rat after rat. It eventually shows him staring at 10 recently deceased rats.



"Ah, rat meat! Now, to prepare you, and make the food! AHAHA! She'll never beat this! Now, let's see... He pauses, then mutters under his breath. Tomatoes... yeah. Got plenty of those. Sauteed garlic... no issues there. Onions? Not a real problem. Zucchini... yeah, that too. Aubergine? Oh, right. Eggplant. Yeah, I've got some of that too. Bell Peppers, no issue... Fenil and Basil? I've got enough of that. Perfect! NOW, TO COOK!"




Scathach pauses, then fast forwards, using the remote, scrolling through the preperation time, before putting it back on play for the actual segment of when the food is done.



"Ah, yes! Now, with all that done, I just need to leave this on the coals to cook, and my dish shall be delicious! Now, to hunt for any remaining rats!"



Erik grins, as he leaves the ratatouille, heading deeper into the boat. "AHA! A GIANT NAKED RAT! TIME TO DIE!"



Much ranting, and shouting occurs as he starts attacking the giant rat, with no response from it. "Come, fight me already! What, are you dead already, or something?"



With no reply, Erik pauses, poking at the rat, with his langsax, to reveal that it's the Venison, with a fur cloak on it. "Oh damn it, and that was my GOOD fur coat, too! It's a pity I didn't find this BEFORE the cookout... wait. What's that smell?"




Erik pulls up the venison, looking underneath it, to find dozens of rats having gotten inside the venison carcass, staring back at him. "By Odin's Hairy Beard! They stowed on board in my venison, eating my meat! Filthy rats! And they crapped in it, too!"



Outside, he can hear a shout of "I can fix that meat for you, if you wish to split it with me, half and half!", which leaves him frowning.



"And what section would you get out of it? The section with more fat, perhaps?" He shouts back, glaring at the meat, before bringing it out.



"Isn't that what they'd go after first? I mean, really." Tamamo smirks at him. "Rats, hmm?"



Erik glares, then sighs, sitting. "At least you'll likely enjoy the food I prepared."



Tamamo laughs at her counterpart, before rowing her boat over with bemusement on her face, using one hand to row, and the other to hold the fan before her. "A demure maiden like me? Liking ratatouille with real rat? My."



I can hear faint giggling from the bed next to me. Kairi's daughter has one eye open, and she's staring at the TV with bemusement in her eyes, mixed with a lot of pain.




“Are you okay, little one? Do you want me to turn it down?” I gently touch her hand, focusing with my magecraft to check on her body.




“I'm okay right now, even though it hurts. The TV is fine. Where... are we?” It's a quiet whisper, but she's aware, which is far better than when she was first resurrected.



“You're on some sort of flying ship, called the Wolfen. It involves two very odd Gods that showed up for this thing I'm stuck in. My Master has asked me to ensure that her partner's wish comes true.” I smile at her, gently, as she blinks up at me.



“Your Master's partner?” She studies me, taking my face in. She probably can barely make me out, the poor thing.



“Your Father teamed up with my Master for a Holy Grail war, and teamed up with help from someone named Zelretch to both ensure I'd be a Servant for it, and that you would be able to be healed up, little one. It's taken all of my skill to help you recover, though.” I study her, gently, as she looks up at me, smiling.



“Wait. The rats were illusions?! The poop was illusions?! That Kitsune trickster tricked me! AARGH! BY ODIN'S BEARD, I'LL MAKE HER PAY FOR THIS!” Erik, on the TV, shouts.



At that, Kairi's daughter giggles softly. “He's easily fooled, it seems?” An involuntary giggle escapes my lips. “Those are two of the Gods that run this ship, and own it.”



She just blinks at me, then at the television. “Gods are strange, aren't they?” For a moment, she pauses, then frowns. “Daddy didn't look the same, earlier... I died, didn't I?”



I can only nod, and pat her hand. “He loved you enough to work to find a way to bring you back, little one. Rest now, okay?”



She smiles up at me, then gently holds my hand, before nodding as her eyes close. It's only moments before she falls deeply asleep again.



Faint clapping reaches my ears from behind, as well as the smell of cigarette smoke to my nose. “Good job with dealing with her, my Servant.”



I turn and then nod towards Touko, who's walking into the room. “I'm glad you approve, Master.”



“WHY HAVE YOU MADE ILLUSIONS OF RATS EATING MY BOAT'S FLOOR, YOU FOUL ILLUSIONIST!” Erik's voice speaks up on the TV, leaving Touko glancing at it with a raised eyebrow.



I glance back at it, showing his houseboat slowly sinking in the water, him desperately trying to hack away at rats, and not working at all on fixing his boat.



“Why would I make illusions of rats eating at your boat? It's actually happening, after all. You should take better care of your things, and save yourself and your food before you drown! Oh well! Tah tah!”



Tamamo sails away, leaving a screaming Erik desperately chopping at rats. Touko smirks, and turns the television off moments later.



“Their entertainment is interesting, isn't it Master? If a little low budget.” I cool down my drink with a rune, and study her as she smokes, and studies Kairi's daughter.



“Indeed. I just thought I'd step in and check on you, before meeting with Tamamo Ulricsonr and learning how to refine the cloning process, repairing the equipment, and the like. Is our patient faring well?”



Nodding, I study my Master. “She's more aware, and was conscious that time passed between when she last saw her father, and now. It's not perfect, by any means, and she's still barely stable, but it's showing dramatic progress.”



Touko smiles, as she finishes her cigarette. “Kairi will be here to watch over her soon, so you can get some rest. Thank you for caring for her for so long. Would you be keen on talking about immortality in a few days, when we're not working so much?”



“Yeah. I don't mind that at all.” With those words, I finish my drink, then lean back to relax.






July 3rd, 2004
Day 2 on the Wolfen



Mordred smiles, as she sits across from me. It's easy to offer her a drink, but she shakes her head, and relaxes instead. "So... You've been drinking a lot of that stuff, huh?"



I sigh, settling back. "Indeed, and for good reason, too." I pause, glancing over at my patient, my eyes narrowed as I check her over again, before looking back at Mordred. "At first, it was pretty pleasant in the Realm of Shadows. Then things just kept getting worse."



She narrows her eyes, studying me. "Go on, please. I'd like to know."



"At first..." I pause, working out how to word it. "At first, everything that existed here, existed there. Food, most types of shelter, drinks, alcohol, fruits... but then, as less and less people came, more and more of the land started drying up. Having issues."



I sip on my drink, enjoying the pleasant burn, then continue, studying her. "In the beginning, most of the livestock died. Then the fruits went with them, followed by the trees, the bulk of the crops... eventually, it came down to be wheat, water, and sheep. Not goats. SHEEP."



I let myself breathe, as I calm down, even as I study Mordred's wide eyes. "Can you imagine, Mordred? Wheat. Mutton. Water. For hundreds of years?" She shudders, at my words, as I continue, driving the point home. "A thousand years of the same tasting food, and fighting every day. A thousand years, of wondering if you'll ever get a new student, or someone to show up that can actually kill you so the suffering stops."



I shake my head, and settle back. "It nearly drove me mad. It should have driven me mad. Duty alone kept me from going mad, but I miss cattle. I miss boars, even! It's just been one long fight, year after year, with no reward except my continued existence. Well, that, and dumb sheep.”



Silently, I cool my drink using a rune, while I think over how to explain things better to Mordred. Perhaps that would do?



“Have you ever gotten so bored, Mordred, that you've tried to teach a sheep how to act like a horse, for the purpose of training to learn how to Joust on a sheep?”



“No, I don't think I've ever quite gotten THAT desperate, to be honest.” She smiles a bit, as I nod, and continue.



“Well, imagine being so bored, that in between battles, you try to breed sheep to act like horses. And, 3 centuries in of breeding the ones that actually move when you're wanting them to move forwards, they all get eaten by the monsters that invade daily.”



Mordred winces, then rubs her forehead. “The place you lived in makes my brain hurt. That HAD to have sucked, though. I'm sorry to hear that.”



She pauses, then sighs. “I wish I could talk more, but I've gotta go. I've taken some time out to ensure we could talk, but I need to visit Erik about some stuff my Master helped me remember. It's a bit past noon, so I'll be off. Talk with your Master more about it when you can, okay? She might have ideas on how to help you out.”



With those words, Mordred gets up and leaves the room.

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and TYPE-MOON, along with whomever they’ve happened to license them to, such as Geneon, Funimation, A-1 Pictures and Netflix.
This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.




Millennia Fortress
Trifas, Romania
July 3, 2004








Fiore was learning to dread the ringing of her cell phone—of late it never seemed to herald anything good, however necessary it might be to hear.

. . . Sadly, this time seemed to be no exception.

“The Hanging Gardens are active and on the move,” Frid said tightly, “and they’re a bloody flying fortress, Fiore. It’s at least the size of your castle from what I can see, and it’s moving faster than anything that big has a right to. I assume it’ll pick up Kotomine first, but it’ll undoubtedly be heading your way. So, if you’ll forgive the colloquialism, fort up—grab everyone and everything you can lay hands on, and get ready for a full-on attack.”

“. . . Thank you for the warning,” she said at last. “I’ll pass it on.”

“There’s more,” Frid said quickly. “We’ll be coming to help—Ruler’s awake, and she’s not at all pleased with either Kotomine’s actions or his intentions. So a truce has been declared; and if the Gardens prove to be too much, all you have to do is hold out, all right? Backup’s on the way.”

That final sentence was said so fiercely that Fiore was left shivering in a—not-unpleasant way. The last time she’d heard him use that particular tone, after all, was shortly before the Sophia-Ri family began their sudden and very terminal decline . . .

In all honesty, Fiore had mixed feelings about that particular event. She disliked the violence of it, to begin with; as distasteful as the situation had been, to go that far was unnecessary, she thought—even if it wasn’t all that out of line, by magus standards. After all, if it had been employed against a “lesser” family, like her own (Forvedge or Yggdmillennia), the Clock Tower wouldn’t have been at all disturbed by the brutal and total elimination of a magus bloodline. That was what they had the Enforcers—or freelancers like the Magus Killer—for, after all

On the other hand, she couldn’t deny that the message—and that was what it had been, above all else—had been effective. Fiore had been treated with far more politeness, if not sociability, during her the rest of her stay in London, after all. Her peers among the students had not wanted to make her uncomfortable, lest the “obsessive barbarian” lurking in her shadow emerge once more and make another example, after all.

And while the Lords of the Clock Tower might not have cared about the unspoken threat of Godafrid, they also held themselves to be above “petty student politicking”—it would have been a gross error on their part to publicly acknowledge it at all . . . Which was not to say that it hadn’t been obliquely noted by a few professors, of course: Reines El-Melloi Archisorte, for example, had proclaimed him “someone of interesting potential,” in explaining why she had chosen to argue his case before the Lords.

(And upon hearing that, Lord El-Melloi II had quietly advised Fiore to make sure that the two never met.)

Similarly, Fiore was annoyed at the sense of being coddled; the reminder that she needed protecting—because she was paraplegic, or “too soft-hearted” for a magus, or because . . . Well, there always seemed to be a reason for someone to try and metaphorically wrap her in cotton wool. She suspected that even Caules did it, from time to time—and she was the older sibling! That was her job in regards to him!

Needless to say, it was intensely irksome to her pride, and never more so than when she was forced to admit that it was necessary—and in the case of the situation with the Sophia-Ri, it might have been. Grandfather might have tried to help her, but given the relative status of the Yggdmillennia at the time . . .

Fiore thought that he certainly would have been no less ruthless in his methods, if he felt that action was required, but whether or not he’d have been able to act in time was an open question. Godafrid, obviously, hadn’t liked the answer he’d come up with, and acted accordingly—which brought Fiore to the conflicting part of her feelings about the whole situation. He had gone to those lengths for her; to protect her, absolutely—strike terror into future threats against her, certainly—but all that, because he cared, both for and about her.

. . . Was she a bad person, if she found that romantic, in a sense? And the fact that she had inspired it flattering, in a way? Or maybe, that she found such fierceness—such passion—to be the tiniest bit arousing, perhaps . . .?

And in addition to those doubts, it was embarrassing because, once again, it meant she was reacting like a girl, not a magus. But Fiore was nineteen, and not exactly the most social of people. She really couldn’t help it—

“Master?” Chiron interrupted her thoughts, his tone polite but grave, as always. “I take it the call brought unpleasant news?”

“Ah!” Fiore gasped, once again berating herself for being distracted. “Yes, Chiron . . .” She took a breath, and collected her thoughts. “Yes, it is very bad—we should speak to Grandfather at once.

“And Chiron,” Fiore added, as she reconsidered what she’d been told, “for the purposes of the coming battle, you can consider my previous order suspended—we may very well need your Noble Phantasm.”

It was to the centaur’s credit that a slight freezing of his expression was the only indication of surprise.

“. . . I understand, Lady Fiore,” he said at last—and as she rolled away, towards Grandfather’s study, her ears nevertheless caught his muttered addition.

“Very bad, indeed . . .”








Battleship Wolfen
Outside Sighișoara, Romania








Jeanne regarded the device in her hand with some amazement; such things, while not outside Laeticia’s knowledge base, were outside her experience. A sheltered, traditional country girl had little reason to interact with such things as “cell phones,” even if she did know they existed . . . Much in the same way, she admitted, that a peasant girl from Domrémy had never taken a sailing ship to Rome, or other faraway places that she knew existed, but had never seen—though this was a device that far outstripped such things in terms of the fantastical.

“I know it is not magical,” she admitted, “and certainly not an act of the Lord; in my day, however, only He and His angels could have communicated so.”

“Interesting,” the magus remarked. “Most Servants I’ve met are too self-contained to show surprise or astonishment at this sort of thing, even if the Grail’s information package has conditioned them to be adjusted to it. You’re probably the first to be honestly amazed that I’ve encountered . . . Barring Mordred,” he admitted, “but she’s getting excited over things that are definitely not modern.”

“It is possibly due to my irregular summoning,” Jeanne admitted, carefully leaving the frequent cries of astonishment and childlike excitement that echoed through the corridors unremarked-upon. “Or possibly my position; a Ruler is not meant to interact with the world, merely keep it separated from the War. As such, I should not require the same ‘information package,’ as you put it—though in my particular case, Laeticia’s knowledge is a help.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, and Jeanne added, in a lighter tone than she truly felt the situation deserved, “However, even she cannot help me explain all of the oddities of this situation—and perhaps most especially, you.”

Blue eyes blinked, and for a brief time, true incomprehension was visible on the man’s face. “You’re on a ship built by a Norse deity that belongs firmly in the realm of science fiction, and I’m the really odd part, Lady Ruler?”

“I am no more a lady than I am a saint,” Jeanne corrected modestly, “and yes.”

“. . . I don’t know whether to be flattered or flabbergasted,” the magus muttered. “And what, pray tell, is confusing you?”

There were any number of answers to that question, Jeanne mused idly, and all of them would be accurate. For example, she might mention that he always seemed sad, looking at her, and inquire why that would be so. Or the fact that her True Name Discernment revealed something from him, as it had from Tamamo-no-Mae, but that information appeared indistinct to her eyes, wavering like summer heat in the morning air . . .

As though not even he was certain of who he was, somehow.

“. . . How is it, Monsieur,” Ruler said at last, “that you are the most forthright of traitors I have ever seen, and yet remain untouched for the crime?”

“. . . Probably because I haven’t talked about it around anyone who actually cares,” he admitted. “Short of Mordred, Touko, and her Servant, most people here either have a means of achieving their desires without the Grail, or just flat-out weren’t interested to begin with. For example, XX, so far as I know, was looking for something else entirely when she popped up, and I’m just here to limit the fallout of things as best I can.

“. . . Of course,” he added thoughtfully, “that only explains the second aspect of your question. As to the first . . .” With a shrug that was very nearly Gallic, he concluded, “I’m probably just a terrible liar.”

Jeanne’s eyes narrowed as she focused on him. Her True Name Discernment might be having difficulties, for reasons she couldn’t understand, but it didn’t change the nature of the Skill itself. To know the truth of something was the fundamental element at its core—and so far as she could see, that was the truth . . . And a joke, at that last part. Possibly.

“. . . You are a very strange man,” she admitted, and was surprised when he laughed.

“That is probably the politest way I have ever heard it put,” he said, smiling. “You may claim to be no lady, and admittedly aren’t, by birth—but your conduct marks you as nobility in the brightest sense of the word, Miss Jeanne.”

“It’s nothing, really,” she insisted, abashed. “I am merely showing simple courtesy, that’s all.”

“‘Simple,’ perhaps,” he countered. “But these days, courtesy is nowhere near as common as it ought to be—and I, sadly, am as guilty as any in that regard.” A sad smile accompanied that, and his concluding, “Which makes your conduct far more than ‘nothing, really.’”

“A pity,” Jeanne commented solemnly. She tilted her head inquisitively. “. . . You also seem remarkably interested in conversing with me, rather than preparing for the battle ahead.”

She was answered by another shrug. “I’m not a technologist, so there’s nothing I can do to render this ship flight-worthy any faster than the people already fixing it can—and for what combat techniques I’ve got, it’s generally required the enemy to be within visual range, if not necessarily in sight. So, until we actually get to the battlefield . . .” He sighed. “And honestly, I’m not sure how much use I’ll be there; I’m not actually much of a fighter.”

Jeanne frowned inwardly. That statement, to her ears, had the ring of something that both was and was not true. How it could be so . . .

After a moment’s thought, she guessed that either he had a highly specialised fighting style, with severe limitations to its use, or he had access to potentially devastating techniques that he hadn’t actually tried in combat situations. The latter, she believed, did fit what she knew of magi. But still, it itched at her, as though it was still an untruth—

“As to the conversation,” the magus continued, oblivious to her thoughts, “how often does one actually get an opportunity to speak to a pivotal historical figure?”

“From what my host knows of France’s history following my death,” Jeanne answered in a deadpan tone, “I would dispute that.”

“My ultimate background is Irish; I can sympathise to an extent,” he answered dryly. “Even if I don’t happen to share the historical animosity . . . But believe me, Lady Jeanne—there are hordes of people out there who would be thrilled to be as physically close to you as I am right now.”

Jeanne looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I believe that you are speaking the truth, Monsieur . . . And also that you are having fun at my expense, somehow.”

He held up a thumb and forefinger, fractionally apart, and answered with a grin, “A little bit, Lady Jeanne—but more at the expense of the aforementioned hordes, I assure you.”

His expression upon saying that was so self-satisfied; she couldn’t help but giggle at it, at least a little.

“. . . In any case,” he admitted, “assuming you’re well enough not to need help or company right now, I suppose there is at least one thing I ought to do . . .” He sighed. “I fear that this conversation will be far less pleasant, though.”

“Nevertheless, if it is necessary, then it must be done,” Jeanne said firmly, before softening a little. “It is better to have no regrets, if one can accomplish such, after all.”

“I bow to your expertise,” he said lightly, bowing nonetheless. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

“Nothing I cannot accomplish,” she assured him, “and I would be loath to give you an excuse for malingering in dealing with your appointed task.”

“And I fear nothing more than a beautiful young lady’s disapproval,” he said blithely. “One in particular, above all—but it is a fairly-encompassing phobia.”

Truth, Jeanne decided.

“. . . I will say it again,” she said seriously, torn between amusement and exasperation. “You are a very strange man.”

“I was probably somebody’s court jester in another life,” he answered. “Or perhaps I simply wanted to be . . . In any case, take care, Lady Jeanne—and Mademoiselle Delacroix as well, of course.”

With a smile and a nod, he left, leaving Jeanne bemused—or perhaps that was Laeticia, partially roused and confused by being directly addressed.

“. . . A very strange man,” she repeated, not at all certain what to make of him.








Out in the open corridor, some distance away—and hopefully, out of earshot of Jeanne—Frid addressed the empty air, inwardly remarking that this was becoming a habit again.

“Tamamo-sama? If you’re free, at present, then I think we need to talk . . .”








Millennia Fortress
Trifas, Romania








“. . . And so Ruler has declared a ceasefire,” Darnic mused aloud, staring at the flute of amber liquid in his hand, before he glanced across the table. “Your thoughts, my Lord?”

In truth, he would have preferred a red wine to white; but his Servant’s hatred of the legend which had crystallised into his second Noble Phantasm was so profound that he refused to entertain anything which encouraged it. And thus, he was at present restricted to the lighter vintages . . . Though Darnic did amuse himself at the thought of what he’d seen in that recording young Caules played within his room, given Lancer’s present appearance: near-slouched upon a throne, and idly toying with a goblet. Had he known of the recording, no doubt Lancer would have unintentionally re-enacted the scene by throwing his goblet to the floor in a rage.

His gaze smouldering, Vlad Tepes responded, “As a matter of pride, I despise fostering the impression that we would need assistance in dealing with Assassin of Red and her Master . . . But as a matter of honour, I am bound as a combatant within this Holy Grail War to abide by the Overseer’s edict—and doubly so, when the Overseer who asks is Saint Jeanne herself.” After a moment, a smirk stretched across his face, and he added, “And as a matter of strategy, I have never found that having my enemies fight one another is a terrible thing.”

“Indeed,” Darnic agreed. “Far better to have them waste their strength against the rogue Servants”—and wasn’t that a surprise, to find that the priest was a Ruler, himself—“than to have it available to turn against us.”

“Indeed,” Lancer agreed. “. . . And you believe the priest is a Servant, then? I admit, I do not think that Ruler would lie, but it is an outlandish enough claim that I could believe that she was misinformed.”

Darnic shook his head. “I told you that I did not engage the boy to Fiore solely for his bloodline—but it was never a trivial portion of the reason, either. It’s said that the Fairy Eye can discern all manner of hidden things; that it can decipher the workings of magecraft simply through activation. And while there is undoubtedly some exaggeration in the claims, magi being as they are, what little I’ve uncovered indicates that it’s true enough. Between that and Ruler’s neutrality, I am inclined to believe what we were told—even discounting what we’ve already discussed regarding the boy and his loyalties.”

“Mm,” the Servant grunted thoughtfully. “. . . And that means that the claim of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon being a Caster’s territory—and unconnected to my own, by nature—is likely also true.”

“If anything, I would find that even more readily believable, Milord,” Darnic said seriously. “That kind of secret is exactly the sort of thing that the Fairy Eye is said, and meant, to uncover—and with the size and speed of the Gardens themselves? He would likely need only a glance to realise it.”

“In this, I will concede to your expertise in magecraft, Darnic,” Lancer yielded. “The warning is all the more appreciated, then; to discover such in the midst of battle might’ve undone our strategies entirely. Now, assuming our enemy counts upon our ignorance, we have a chance to redress the imbalance, at least in part.”

“. . . And with an eye towards the changes in circumstances,” the magus said smoothly, “both in regards to our resources and in our strategy, I must ask of you: does this knowledge alter your resolution not to use your second Noble Phantasm?”

Pale fingers tensed, and while the goblet was hardly tempered steel or something similarly durable, it was still somewhat impressive to hear it deform through sheer physical strength.

“No!” Lancer growled. “Even weakened, I will fight—and triumph— as myself, and not that WRETCHED MOCKERY!”

“So be it,” Darnic said readily, bowing in acceptance. Such displays cost him nothing, after all, when he had access to the Command Spells to enforce his will when it truly mattered—and they kept his Servant placid, and largely compliant, in the interim.

The Servant fixed his Master with a brooding look. “. . . Given, as you say, our present circumstances—and the fact I would demand an answer no less fiercely, were our positions reversed—I can be magnanimous enough to let the insult pass. However, for your own sake, Darnic, do not bring it up again. I cannot, and will not, abide the mention of that insult to my good name.”

Scowling, even as he raised the now-deformed cup to his lips, Lancer muttered fiercely, “If I could afford to waste the Grail’s power so frivolously, I would slaughter that drunken Irishman before he ever conceived of that miserable tome . . . I may do so anyway . . .”

The head of Yggdmillennia politely ignored his Servant’s brooding, his mind focussed on the battle to come. While Millennia Fortress had been conceived of and reinforced to withstand a siege, the earlier struggle against the self-proclaimed “god” and its aftermath had depleted their resources. Particularly the latter: being unable to access the homunculus tanks severely restricted their ability to distribute power to the Servants, or replenish the losses of their cannon fodder.

Still, Darnic mused, there was a way to offset those losses . . .

It would involve collateral damage on a massive scale, true, and was not without its own drawbacks; but as a final resort, it was still an option. Only as a final resort, though. In the meantime, it was far better to see what advantages could be gleaned from this ceasefire—either in furthering his knowledge of his enemies’ capabilities and resources, or in depleting them. In the end, though, he would resort to it, if it became necessary. He had not spent a literal lifetime pursuing the Root, after all, only to baulk at the cost of the final step.

. . . But that was a consideration for the future—his present concern should be, and was, for the here and now.

As such, the elder magus considered how best to set things up so that Yggdmillennia could fight defensively, with minimal potential losses—and injured pride on the part of their Servants—so that the Red Faction would be forced to expend the maximum amount possible of their own strength in the battle to come . . .

[Arbitrarity]

That is a substantially more thorough omake than I was expecting, Ranma, so thank you for writing it! I was definitely not expecting it to have quite this much interaction, direct and indirect, with the other cast members. Erik's melodrama and choice of deliberately low-budget special effects (lightning bolt glare) are pretty funny.

Is our patient fairing well?

Should be "faring" (derived from "how do you fare"). I don't think "fairing" is actually a word, except maybe in a context of enjoying a fair or something.

Amusingly, Scathach could have made vodka with wheat. However, she didn't really have the technology for distilling, so she'd more likely get some fairly weak beer. I'm not entirely sure how her leaving the Land of Shadows works with regards to the Throne though. If she dies out here, is she just dead/moved to the Throne? She definitely doesn't seem to be an instance like most Servants. If she's not an instance, and can bring stuff back, giving her a still might be a nice gift.

Kieran's stuff!

I'm a bit surprised Reines is an actual professor at the Clock Tower. I don't think that's mentioned in her material, she gets taught by Waver, and is younger (Waver is 29ish as of Apocrypha). She definitely counts among the Lords though.

It's a bit confusing about who Jeanne is talking to in the second part, and you only sort of get a solid hint when True Name Discernment is acting up.

“but she’s getting excited over things are definitely not modern.”

Missing a "that" after "things".

I do wonder what sort of combat abilities Godafrid has, now that you mention it. They're probably not Servant-caliber, but he clearly did SOMETHING to the Sophia-Ri, so he probably has something useful. We've seen it mentioned he can handle fast movements with his Mystic Eyes, but nothing about actual combat.

Heheh, gotta reference those legions of otaku.

I do wonder what Frid is going to talk with Tamamo about. I remember something about him talking with Erik before and making arguable lies that he was sure she would pick up, so it seems likely he's going to be asking about that.

Telling Vlad about Castlevania does indeed seem like a bad idea. I'm amused that Frid's meta-knowledge is being passed off as stuff the Fairy Eye can see, though that does seem feasible. I suspect Darnic is just straight needling Vlad here though. Ritual is likely to be something involving mass human sacrifice and probably animation, at a guess. Or Command Seal-ing Vlad to go Legend of Dracula and make a bunch of spawn, which seems more likely.

I was unaware that, like color/colour and armor, the British can spell "balk" as "baulk". And I'm Canadian, so doubly surprised.

[Kieran]

Kieran's stuff!

I'm a bit surprised Reines is an actual professor at the Clock Tower. I don't think that's mentioned in her material, she gets taught by Waver, and is younger (Waver is 29ish as of Apocrypha). She definitely counts among the Lords though.

Yes, which is why she had the clout to argue - I'm sorry for giving you the impression that she's part of the staff.

It's a bit confusing about who Jeanne is talking to in the second part, and you only sort of get a solid hint when True Name Discernment is acting up.

I was trying not to over-focus on Godafrid, at the start - with mixed success, even I'll admit - but as I went on, I kind of liked the conceit of it.

Missing a "that" after "things".

Oops - I'll fix it. Thanks.

I do wonder what sort of combat abilities Godafrid has, now that you mention it. They're probably not Servant-caliber, but he clearly did SOMETHING to the Sophia-Ri, so he probably has something useful. We've seen it mentioned he can handle fast movements with his Mystic Eyes, but nothing about actual combat.

I'm still working it out myself - from what I've read about Fairy Eye/Glam Sight, I interpret at as being an analysis tool: he can unravel Bounded Fields, spells, and secrets by looking at them. It makes him absolutely terrifying when dealing with any kind of magical defences, because comprehending them - and locating weak points - might as well be outlined in neon.

In a one-on-one situation, though? Still working on it.

Heheh, gotta reference those legions of otaku.

If I can't poke fun at myself, I'm doing this wrong.

I do wonder what Frid is going to talk with Tamamo about. I remember something about him talking with Erik before and making arguable lies that he was sure she would pick up, so it seems likely he's going to be asking about that.

Sort of . . .

Telling Vlad about Castlevania does indeed seem like a bad idea. I'm amused that Frid's meta-knowledge is being passed off as stuff the Fairy Eye can see, though that does seem feasible. I suspect Darnic is just straight needling Vlad here though. Ritual is likely to be something involving mass human sacrifice and probably animation, at a guess. Or Command Seal-ing Vlad to go Legend of Dracula and make a bunch of spawn, which seems more likely.

Odds are good you'll see.

I was unaware that, like color/colour and armor, the British can spell "balk" as "baulk". And I'm Canadian, so doubly surprised.

*Shrugs* It's not like it's a commonly-used word . . . Even I was surprised when it came to mind.

[RanmaBushiko]

That is a substantially more thorough omake than I was expecting, Ranma, so thank you for writing it! I was definitely not expecting it to have quite this much interaction, direct and indirect, with the other cast members. Erik's melodrama and choice of deliberately low-budget special effects (lightning bolt glare) are pretty funny.


Should be "faring" (derived from "how do you fare"). I don't think "fairing" is actually a word, except maybe in a context of enjoying a fair or something.

Amusingly, Scathach could have made vodka with wheat. However, she didn't really have the technology for distilling, so she'd more likely get some fairly weak beer. I'm not entirely sure how her leaving the Land of Shadows works with regards to the Throne though. If she dies out here, is she just dead/moved to the Throne? She definitely doesn't seem to be an instance like most Servants. If she's not an instance, and can bring stuff back, giving her a still might be a nice gift.

Kieran's stuff!

I'm a bit surprised Reines is an actual professor at the Clock Tower. I don't think that's mentioned in her material, she gets taught by Waver, and is younger (Waver is 29ish as of Apocrypha). She definitely counts among the Lords though.

It's a bit confusing about who Jeanne is talking to in the second part, and you only sort of get a solid hint when True Name Discernment is acting up.


Missing a "that" after "things".

I do wonder what sort of combat abilities Godafrid has, now that you mention it. They're probably not Servant-caliber, but he clearly did SOMETHING to the Sophia-Ri, so he probably has something useful. We've seen it mentioned he can handle fast movements with his Mystic Eyes, but nothing about actual combat.

Heheh, gotta reference those legions of otaku.

I do wonder what Frid is going to talk with Tamamo about. I remember something about him talking with Erik before and making arguable lies that he was sure she would pick up, so it seems likely he's going to be asking about that.

Telling Vlad about Castlevania does indeed seem like a bad idea. I'm amused that Frid's meta-knowledge is being passed off as stuff the Fairy Eye can see, though that does seem feasible. I suspect Darnic is just straight needling Vlad here though. Ritual is likely to be something involving mass human sacrifice and probably animation, at a guess. Or Command Seal-ing Vlad to go Legend of Dracula and make a bunch of spawn, which seems more likely.

I was unaware that, like color/colour and armor, the British can spell "balk" as "baulk". And I'm Canadian, so doubly surprised.

*Chuckles* Yeah, I thought you might get a kick out of that bit. Low budget, but funny. As for the interaction, yeah. This was about 11 pages worth of writing. It's a pity that open office, no matter what I try to do, doesn't give me a proper spell check or grammar check, though.

As for Scathach's situation, the Irish Potato Famine was a thing. In this case, what she went through was far worse than a famine. Between disease, and daily monster issues? Add in several centuries of constant breeding of viruses, and the like, which is why I portrayed things as I did for her.

Giving her a still is ONE option, but there should be others, too. Even still, centuries of weak beer? Ugh.

I'll change faring after I finish writing this up, though. Thanks for pointing that out. (Though, online spell check says it's okay, oddly enough.)

As for Kieran's part, it's rather interesting, isn't it? You'll see, sooner or later, most likely.

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 34: The Deeper, Thickening Mists



6:50 PM
The Wolfen



Alarms ring over the massive ship, as an earthquake rattles several windows on the ship. In the distance, Erik can see the Hanging Gardens slowly float upwards into the sky.



"God damn it. Giant things hanging in the air is MY shtick!" Erik snarls, as he stares at it, before pausing at the feeling of the link to his Servant flaring with power.




Moments later, words slam into his head, telepathy from his Servant. "Son-in-Law! We've just lost the truck due to the four-way fighting, leaving us stranded—any options for help, or backup?!"



It takes a moment for him to figure out how to reply, before he focuses on answering. "...Damn it all. The Hanging Gardens just went airborne, too! I'll grab backup and be there when I can, Amaterasu. Just gotta figure out what the hell I can take to get over to you."



Amaterasu's voice responds to him, moments later. "...Understood, Son in Law. We'll try to hold as long as possible, but this one seems to be Jack the Ripper, and with this fog increasing and decreasing, Shirou Kotomine as well as Saber of Black's interference makes this rough, as it is. I'm not sure how much longer we can defend the truck."



Erik narrows his eyes, as he thinks over it. "Detonate it, then. There's a self-destruct switch in the glove compartment. I'll be there when I can."



"Thank you. I'll see you soon, my Son in Law." With those final words, Amaterasu's link fades to normal.



Erik snarls at what he's heard, much like a wolf, before he focuses. "Scylla! What the hell do we have that can get to Bucharest, ASAP, while getting the others out?"



"Boss?! Give me a minute. What's the rush?" The Scylla's voice replies, as it thinks, working furiously.



"It's a four-way clusterfuck between Shirou Kotomine, Siegfried, Assassin of Black, apparently Jack the Ripper, and our people, one that just took out that truck we let them use."



"Didn't that thing's cab survive your Mark 3 Metal Gear Rex stepping on it without issues, Boss?" The Scylla sounds worried now.



"Yes. Yes, it did. But if you glance at the footage, we might be able to figure out why it's wrecked." Erik speaks, even as he thinks over his options for getting to them in time.



"...Oh, yeah. That went bad. It was a lucky hit to the rocket boosters AND the ammunition storage in the back. The attack from Siegfried cut the rockets in such a way that the rocket fire went straight into the ammunition supply, and the extra rocket fuel mix tanks, while carving open the protective covers for both. Looks like the cab came out relatively okay, for surviving everything behind it detonating, but it's upside down, and there's no way in hell it's going to start up again, much less take another attack on that level." For one moment, the Scylla pauses, then continues. "Looks like you're going to need a couple dozen of the Mecha Fafnir line, Boss, unless you want to try one of the prototypes and hope for the best. Still, considering how many you sent, it's going to be a good chunk of the Mecha Fafnir line."



Erik pauses, and then blinks. "You're right, a prototype might work. Bring Special Projects 2 up the elevator shaft, to the main hangar, and have the Legion of Coal cut the compressed wall up so we can get a prototype out!"



"No problem, Boss! Gonna take an Arwing out?" The Scylla asks, with a bit of humor in its voice. "Or maybe that Wolfen fighter?"



Erik smirks. "The Millennium Falcon prototype. Mysterious Heroine XX mentioned that what I built can work as a power source, if I use it on ships, or power armor. I just need to be able to launch the damned thing in time to help them."



For a moment, Erik pauses, considering. "Call for Rin and EMIYA, will you, Scylla? Get them to join up, possibly Godafrid as well, if he feels like coming along. I'm running too low on Legend for to use Rainbow Bridge to get back, but I've got enough to make a jump to Bucharest once we get the ship powered... But I'm going to likely need EMIYA's help to ensure that the reactor will power this properly. God or not, this thing is new."



"Gotcha Boss, he'll be there in 3 minutes, from what he said." The Scylla replies, and then pauses. “Boss? Are you sure you're going to take it out? We never were able to test it for long term durability, with the dual gravity system. Considering the damned price tag on that dual gravity system, as well...”



Erik snorts. “We don't have anything else I can use Rainbow Bridge on, right now. And yes, that damned system was expensive. 160 billion dollars down the drain, just on that prototype system? It blew out our entire budget for 3 years. And the Prototype's three times bigger than ship was in Star Wars, as a result of how big the dual gravity test system had to be. But it'll be fun to pilot, anyways.”



“Boss? Get a quick recharge from the Gem of Power, maybe a sixth of your tank, anyways. You're running damned low, and we don't want you disappearing with what Gaia seems to be pulling, constantly. Plus, it'll let you get them in and out quick.”



Erik sighs, and nods. “Gotcha. I'll do that, to be safe, then. With those words, Erik breaks out into a run.



It's a matter of a few moments, to recharge his Legend when he reaches the Gem of Power, before he's running again to the hangar.



“What's the rush, Erik?” Archer's words reach Erik from the hangar wall.



“I need to test the reactor on an old prototype, see if it'll fly. Amaterasu, Mash, Olga, and Mordred just had the truck blown up on them.” Erik shouts, before helping his Legion of Coal carve away the wall of metal.



“Let me loosen it up a bit.” EMIYA, with those words, focuses, before hundreds of blades impale the wall. Between his work, and the lasers, the wall quickly falls over.



“What IS that, anyways?” EMIYA glances down, studying the thick wall, before pausing and looking. “. . . Is that what I think it is? Did you seriously build the Millennium Falcon?!”



Erik glances over, nodding at EMIYA as he moves forwards to the ship. “None of my reactors would POWER the damned thing, though. I couldn't make them small enough to fit, while still being strong enough to work. Hopefully with this, we'll be able to...”



As Erik steps in, he blinks at the ship lighting up.



“Well. That's certainly convenient.” EMIYA smirks at Erik.



“Can you check if it's powering it enough so it'll work?” Erik glances back, and then sighs. “I might not need your help after all, if it's going to work. Though, if you don't mind taking the lower guns...”



EMIYA smirks, and nods. “Not a problem. I always liked those movies, anyways.”



Erik smirks back. “You need to check out my theater, then, once we're back. We've got all the movies, including the prequels and sequels... even if I dislike the third trilogy.”



Bucharest, Romania



“Fuck. Okay, we're out of the truck and we've hit the self destruct. Now what, Alter Ego? This damned mist, combined with us being sitting ducks? I don't like this one bit.” Mordred growls, as she turns her head, left and right, carefully peering through the mist.



“Be on your guard, Saber, Shielder. She fell away from the bottom of the truck, but she'll come for us soon enough. That's obvious from how thick the mist is.” Carefully, Amaterasu maneuvers herself, adjusting her walking pace so that the three Servants keep Olga safe.



“Mommy actually thinks I should save you for last!” Jack the Ripper's words echo in the distance. “First, I think I need to deal with that Saber of Black that was shooting at me. Then I'm going to enjoy hurting you all. You don't have anything to protect yourself from me anymore, nothing but that shield.”



Mash narrows her eyes. “Fou? Can you smell her anywhere near?”



“Fou...” Fou looks around, sniffing into the air, then carefully peers in a direction, looking like he's thinking. He carefully shakes his head. “Fou.”



“Would... the spot you just looked at, be where she just was, Fou?” Mash glances at him, carefully, while keeping the area covered.



“Fou!” Fou nods, then jumps onto Olga's shoulder, looking like he's standing guard.



“Okay, then. Let's keep moving. See if we can't hole up until we can get a ride out, then.” With those words, Mordred adjusts her sword in one hand, the prototype light saber in the other, and moves into the fog.






“You blew up their truck, Saber.” Gordes glances at his Servant, while carefully watching everything around him.



“To be fair, Master, would you rather we had that thing coming at us NEXT?” Siegfried almost growls, before he sighs. “My apologies. This is incredibly irritating, Master. This fog below us smells like it has hints of poison or something within it.



“Just because we're in the highest place we could reach... Well, thank you for that, Saber. I owe you my life for saving me, familiar or not.” Gordes narrows his eyes, wiping the sweat off his face. “Still, this is irritating. Do you have any idea where any of them could be at? Assassin of Black alo... Why can't I remember her face?”



“It's... blurry. I can barely remember it, either, Master. I think she has some sort of skill to ensure people can't remember it.” Siegfried narrows his eyes, looking at the few other buildings rising above the fog like the one they're on top of, before pacing the rooftop's edge.



The sound of the knives is almost silent, but Siegfried's ears catch them early enough that he can interpose himself and his body between his Master and the knives.



“Aww. You're still able to keep me from hitting him? Hmm—I just need to raise the fog HIGHER then, don't I?!”



Siegfried's eyes narrow. “Come out, and fight me, Assassin of Black! Be fair, and attack me rather than my Master.”



“Mommy insists I stay in the fog, sorry! But if you come down, I'll be nice and make it a bit easier for you! I promise!”



“A bit easier how, Assassin of Black?” Gordes narrows his eyes, wiping the sweat off his forehead again.



“Mommy says that I'll have to not poison you with it, if you go in!” Jack the Ripper's words echo in their ears, as the fog deepens below, going from a light mist to a deeper cloud.



“You promise to not poison my Master with the substances in your Fog, if we go into it?” Siegfried's eyes narrow in contemplation. “Master, this has to be a trap of some form.”



“Don't I know it . . . But it's better than dying to whatever poisons she might add to it. Fine—Assassin, we agree.”



With Gordes’ words, the mist lightens below them. It's a moment's effort, for Siegfried to pick up his Master, and descend into the fog below.



“She's right... it’s not nearly so bad.”






Elsewhere in the fog...



“Mommy? The Noble Phantasm's wearing down. Do you want me to continue to overload it and cover the city? If so, at this rate, I'm going to need a Command Spell. You said you wanted to ration them, so...”



Her master smiles at her, through the mental link. “Do you feel you need it, at this rate? It appears you can't as7|24|_IZ3... Or hear me say that last word.”



“My bad arm's still useless, Mommy. I think I'm going to need it. And no, I still can't hear that word, or understand its meaning at all. It sounds like a bunch of letters and numbers, and—lines, to me.” Jack's eyes narrow, as she checks her arm.



“So be it, then. By the power of this Command Spell, my darling daughter—bring out your Noble Phantasm out, at full power! Deal with these enemies one way or another, find your ally, then leave!”



“Yes, Mommy!” With that shout, the mist deepens, deepening more and more, twisting the visions of the streets as the mist stretches out. In the span of minutes, most of Bucharest is covered by the Noble Phantasm.



And, as one, every person in the city starts to suffocate that's within the boundaries of the fog, even as a massive part of the city itself warps, to appear to be the streets of London as they were in her day and age.



Within the bounds of the mist, Jack the Ripper smiles, and stalks for the Master of Saber of Black once more.



Even if words are normally necessary, they don't matter, as she sends four daggers through the fog, glowing with her Noble Phantasm. Though the target isn't female, and it isn't night, yet, it being misty is more than enough to definitely make it hurt.



“BALMUNG!”



Jack the Ripper dodges, barely, as the knives are countered by Siegfried's Noble Phantasm. It's easy for her to move into the ever deepening mist, however.



“Oh? You seem a bit out of breath, there. A bit like a pig again, I see.” Jack smiles, moving through the mist and the shadows. “Won't you sacrifice yourself, so I can deactivate my Noble Phantasm? Or, perhaps, help me with those mean women first?”



“Why would I ever do that, Assassin of Black?” Gordes snarls, while desperately staying behind Siegfried. His eyes frantically look left and right; staring at the changed city they're in.



“You haven't realized it yet? My fog kills people. You're a mage, or whatever, aren't you? You aren't bad off, even if your magic is hard to use in it. But everyone else in the city...”



“‘Everyone else in the city’ what, Assassin of Black?” Siegfried's voice comes out, as he narrows his eyes, his grip on his sword tightening.



“Everyone else is suffocating, that has no magic! How long do you think they can last in this fog, hmm? Thirty seconds? A minute? Three? Every life in this city is in my hands, to kill, or to spare. What will it be?”



Siegfried goes horribly, terribly still, even as Gordes freezes up, staring in horror at the mist surrounding them.



“Mommy ordered me to do it with a Command Spell! So I can't shut it off without ensuring that those other ones are dead! Won't you help me kill them! Then I'll shut off all this fog and all those people can live! What do you say?”



In the foggy mists, Jack the Ripper smiles at her foes.









“Oh fuck, the fog's deepening,” are the first words out of Mordred's mouth, before she glances at Olga. “You okay, Olga?”



“As an Animusphere, this is nothing to me! But... Sapphire? Is this fog bad?”



“It has a lot of nasty poisons in it, Mistress! But it seems that your Servant has a resistance to poisons, which is carried on to you, as well!”



“Thank you, Mash!” Olga smiles at her Servant.



“Mistress! Incoming person! I can't tell who or what they are, but...!” Sapphire shouts, before footsteps approach.



“Interesting methods to avoid my Black Keys there. Would any of you be willing to work with me, to save Humanity?” Shirou Kotomine, once known as Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, smiles as he says those words.



“Honestly, I've got a pretty decent deal with my Master right now, no offense.” Mordred smirks, studying him, while adjusting herself.



“Um... I've already done it once from extinction, so I'm capable, but... What from?” Mash narrows her eyes, studying him.



“From death itself—saving them so they never have to fear loss, or death, or pain again, using the Holy Grail to bring about a true miracle of Salvation.” Shirou smiles at her, walking forwards more. “If you truly are one that has saved humanity from extinction once, would that not save it again?”



Mash's eyes narrow, as she stares at him, pulling herself up fully as she grips her shield tight.



“Saving them how, exactly?” Her words echo in the fog.



Shirou smiles at her. “By directly manifesting the soul, of course—with that, all can be fixed! It will be a miracle of true Salvation, one that allows all to be happy and live life without pain, or fear, or agony—forever.”









“Did I ever tell you my wish, Master?” Siegfried's voice echoes in the fog, as he searches for Assassin of Black.



“No, you did not. With what I read and studied of you, though, it looked to be to live your life better, was it not? To not die as you did?” Gordes replies, as he narrows his eyes, watching everything in the hopes of spotting their foe. “Your tale ended in tragedy. Was it not to make your life better? To live longer?”



Siegfried shakes his head, slowly. “It was never that. My life was my own. I died well, saving others. But...” his voice trails off a moment, before he continues. “I never saved someone of my own volition. It was always others asking me to save them—never me stepping up to save them without first being asked, or begged. Even though I was always a hero, one seen as selfless, I could never save without being asked to save, first.”



Siegfried pauses, his eyes narrowing as he watches the fog carefully, scanning its depths for any sign of their foe. “And yet, no matter how much I searched, I could never find someone to save. I always had to be approached. Bad luck, perhaps, but it was something I always loathed and hated about myself.”



“And here you are, able to save the city if you help me deal with the others, aren't you?” Jack the Ripper smiles in the fog, the mists obscuring her location. “Won't you save them by killing those fighters working for the side of Red? They hurt me rather badly, but with us teamed up...” Her voice trails off, meaningfully.



“It would save them, wouldn't it? I can't blame you on that, Saber. However... If she can do this once, she could blackmail you, again and again, into saving people by forcing you to kill someone else.” Gordes pauses, wiping his forehead off once more, before continuing. “Is it really saving people, if you save them by helping the one that puts them into danger in the first place?”



For a long moment, Gordes shivers as he watches his Servant, carefully. “Saber. I know I haven't let you tell our allies your true name. I know I haven't used it, to keep you safe from those that could identify you and kill you, enemy and ally alike. I know that hasn't endeared you to me. But if you really want to save these people, you need to kill her before she can kill all of us. If you do what she says now, she'll just take hostages again whenever she wants you to work with her.”



For one long moment, Siegfried grits his teeth, as he lowers his blade silently. He stares over each building, studying each of them in turn.



“Oh? Have you realized that I'm not wrong yet, then, Saber of Black?” Giggling erupts from the fog, as Jack the Ripper smiles, moving her way through the fog easily.



“Master. This may be draining. Use a Command Spell on me, to ensure I win.” Siegfried adjusts his grip on his sword, then focuses, as he turns, swinging towards the location of where he heard Jack the Ripper's voice. “Oh sword, let thee be filled!”



“As you wish, Saber! Saber, by this Command Spell! DEFEAT HER!” Gordes shouts, with a grin.



“BALMUNG!” His Master's words are followed by his action, as his sword's power flares outwards in a shockwave, massive amounts of prana being pushed through the legendary blade like a hot knife through butter. Around him and Gordes, the shockwave from the release of True Ether alone craters the street, vaporizing the fog's effects in a radius around himself and his Master. And then he pulls the sword down.



Reality ripples, breaking down in front of them, as he pulls the sword down, then swings horizontally, rapidly spinning around in a 270 degree slash that barely misses Gordes, while carving apart the mist and the illusion of London within the fog.



“That's not fair! You weren't supposed to be able to hold it long enough to do that!” With that shout, Jack the Ripper throws knives at Siegfried, as well as Gordes, desperately trying to force Siegfried to cover his Master, so she can escape back into the slowly reforming fog. The knives turn to powder against the released energy still wrapped around Balmung, leaving her staring for a brief moment as he dashes in to finish her off.



It takes her only a moment to recover, but her speed lets her interpose a knife between her and his sword. “You weren't supposed to be able to blow away my fog at all!” Jack the Ripper shouts, as her knife meet Balmung in a desperate attempt to counter him. Swinging, and cutting, she strikes.



But, to her growing consternation, each knife she uses does nothing to his sword, or to his body. Not the throwing knives. Not her scalpels. Not her preferred knives. Nothing works, either to harm him or drive him back.



One useless hand weakens her, leaving her getting thrown around by every strike he does with ease, as she desperately tries to hold him back. Slowly, her eyes narrow as she realizes that there is no victory here for her. Not with one hand badly hurt like it is.



“No! I won't die here! You'll have to catch me first!” With that shout, she runs for the fog.



“After her, Saber!” Gordes shouts, as he desperately tries to catch up to Siegfried, even as his Servant chases after Jack the Ripper.









Mordred stares at the man before her. Her eyes narrow, and then widen slightly, before she snorts. “Sorry. I'm going to have to tell you to take your offer, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine, asshole.”



Crackle, Hiss



The sound is Shirou's only warning, as she lunges for him, a new sword crackling with light. Even as he moves to parry, his eyes widen in surprise and shock.



Clang



Both Shirou and Mordred stare at the now missing tip of Shirou's katana, before Shirou slowly looks down. “He gave you a lightsaber? Seriously? That God is a pain.”



Mordred just grins widely back. “Oh, he makes such WONDERFUL toys. I love them, I have to admit.” With those words, she dashes forwards, lightning crackling along the ground as she moves to attack, Clarent's blade converting extra prana into electricity flaring around her.



Ka-whump



The sound barrier cracks as her Mana Burst kicks in, pushing her further forwards towards him.



“You seriously can move this fast?! I'm impressed, Saber! And with that armor of yours, I can't tell who you are at all!” With those words, Shirou flings the damaged Katana forwards, and throws himself backwards.



Bzzt



Mordred narrows her eyes, as the lightsaber in her left hand flickers out, then slams back into place as she hits the activator again, right before the sword carves through the thrown Katana. The pieces clatter behind her, as she glances behind herself at her allies.



“Tch. Hiding in the fog like that damned Assassin, eh? Oi, Olga! Can Sapphire track him? Or Fou?”



“Fou...” Fou shakes his head, as well, trying to show that he can't tell.



“Analyzing... Even with my new upgrades, I can't get much out of this. This fog is a Noble Phantasm of some sort. However... Something's coming, though I can't tell what, or where, easily. It's like ripples in the mist. Mistress, stay close to your Servant, please!”



“Yes! Mash, please shield me, and keep me safe!” With those words, Olga clings closer to her Servant, half hiding behind one of her Servant's legs.



“Alter Ego? Any clue as to where he or that brat of an Assassin is hiding?” Mordred glances back at Amaterasu.



Amaterasu narrows her eyes, concentrating, and then shakes her head. “Unfortunately, most of my power is keeping up an illusion to ensure that Assassin of Black can't astralize, Saber. Otherwise I'd have a good shot with the laser rifle Erik gave me.”



The sound of whirling blades hits their ears, as Black Keys fly out of the mist and shadows, even as the streets grow darker and dimmer.



The hiss of the lightsaber in Mordred's hands is the only thing she hears, as she swings and carves them in half with ease.



“Come now, Saber of Red. Do you really think I'm going to just let you easily kill me?” Shirou's words reach out of the fog, as Mordred's eyes narrow.



“Fuck this. I'm going to deal with you here, and now!” With those words, Mordred stows the lightsaber, before her helmet starts pulling back, uncovering her face.



“CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!” With those words, she swings, and reality before her is carved with a blood red beam of pure, compressed rage. Then, in that one perfect moment of clarity, she sees everything before her, in slow motion.



She can see Shirou in the fog, eyes wide in shock, desperately dodging the beam. It catches his robes.



And above the beam, is Jack the Ripper, her good knife glowing with her own Noble Phantasm, having jumped the beam, and used Mordred's own Noble Phantasm to hide the activation of hers—the knife is going straight for her neck.



Squelch



“So this is how I die, huh? Sorry, Father...” Her throat is slit, but she still manages to whisper those words, as she stares up at a smiling Jack the Ripper.



“Looks like Mommy will get the sword, after all! Now, where did you put... Ooh, more victims!” Jack the Ripper smiles, pulling her knife out of Mordred's throat, as she dashes towards Mash.



A wave of power—and a pulse of light—flickers from Amaterasu, before Mordred blinks as her wounds suddenly HEAL, leaving her awake and blinking, but exhausted. “. . . The fuck?” She rolls, desperately, as her helmet reassembles itself over her head and neck.



“Hey! No fair healing those that I kill! MARIA THE RIPPER!” Jack the Ripper screams, as she dashes towards Amaterasu.



“Obscurant Wall of Chalk!” With those words, the attempt to attack Amaterasu misses as the Noble Phantasm used by Jack the Ripper cleaves through where Amaterasu should be, yet isn't.



“Eh?! Hey, no fair making her impossible to hit! How did you do that?!” Jack the Ripper glares, as she moves to attack Mash, only to find that her shield hits far harder than it should.



It's a moment of shield against knives, as her massive shield is brought into battle, clanging against Jack the Ripper's knives, and bashing her in the face repeatedly with its blunt edges.



Jack the Ripper starts glaring, more, before she turns. “Mommy said to finish the others off, first! But maybe I'll just kill your Master?” With those words, she throws scalpels at Olga.



Yet, they swerve to hit Mash's shield, instead, as she focuses, briefly glowing with prana, and dashes forwards to meet Jack the Ripper in combat once more. For that moment, as her shield reaches to slam the Assassin in the face, Jack scowls. “Why can't I stop attacking you?! Oh, it's some sort of ability, huh?”



With those words, Jack disengages, seeking the fog around them once more. Mash moves back, covering Olga, and doing her best to cover a badly weakened Mordred as well as Amaterasu.



The hissing sound of swords flying through the air belies Shirou's presence as Black Keys slam into the shadows of Amaterasu, as well as Mordred, however.



“It's a pity you didn't want to help me, isn't it? I suppose this is where it ends for you all then. Finish the paralyzed ones off, Assassin of Black, and quickly!” Shirou Kotomine shouts.



“For Mommy's new toy, the healer goes first! MARIA THE RIPPER!” As Jack the Ripper runs forwards, slightly stumbling from overuse of her abilities, Mash's eyes narrow.



“I might be tired, but I can still do this!” With Mash's shout, a thick wall of snowflakes forms around all of them. It's the only thing that saves Amaterasu from dying instantly, as one arm flies off, the blade sinks an inch away from her spiritual core, sending Amaterasu flying to the ground, and a gleeful Jack the Ripper smiling as she turns towards Mordred.



“BALMUNG!” Siegfried's Noble Phantasm slams into Jack the Ripper, sending her flying, and flipping through the air, as she desperately tries to twist and bleed momentum from the grazing hit.



“Enough of this—if I have to deal with all of you now, so be it! By the power of my Command Spell—” Shirou stops abruptly, blinking, and glances up at lights from above. “Wait, what?!”



A blaze of laser fire is introduced to his general area, sending him running back into the mists, as a massive copy of the Millennium Falcon lands, taking up most of the room in the parking lot they'd unknowingly found themselves in.



“Get in, damn it! And you, there, Master of Saber of Black! Ruler's declared a truce until Assassin of Red, and her Master, is dealt with!” Erik shouts over the speakers, while several gun turrets start opening fire from below, shooting lasers in the general direction of where Assassin of Black disappeared to.



“I'm not going to let them leave so easily! By the power of my Command Spell—bring yourself and the Hanging Gardens to me!”



With the shout from Shirou Kotomine, the sky turns pitch black as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon appear overhead. Gordes wastes no time in running into the ship, as Mash and Siegfried help carry the wounded, and injured, on board.



Shirou Kotomine glares at the Millennium Falcon copy, and then breathes out. “Assassin of Black! Get your Master and bring them here, then we'll go after them. They won't get away so easily!”



Shirou's eyes narrow, as he watches the replica Falcon raise itself up using jet thrusters, then fly off into the distance. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face.



“They're using jet fuel for that thing, hmm? It means they can't get that far before Assassin of Black's Master is here. And then we deal with them all in one fell swoop.”
With those words, he smiles.









Author's Notes:
Technical Specifications involving the Millennium Falcon copy:
23.4 meters/76.77 feet high
76.83 meters/252.07 feet wide
103.11 meters/338.29 feet long
(Yeah, it's pretty massive. Has the pros of a huge capitol ship to launch out of and return to, though.)
Armor: 15
Meteorite Iron/Lead combination
Health Points: 40,000 (With larger ships, especially in this case, there's a lot more superstructure to work with, and thus, a lot more systems. With Erik's bulky construction work, backups, etc., the sheer bulk of the superstructure and safe sections, a lot of super massive construction like this has more Health than normal. Especially in the case of this copy. It's about half of the size of the Wolfen as it was originally built, which had a whopping 100,000 hp.)
Equipment:
Two Quad “Blaster” Laser cannons, that are lasers adjusted heavily.
Speed: 3 seconds, 3 x 4 aggravated damage (second shot is 4x4 on the same target)
Two Quad Railgun Cannons
Speed 1-12, 2-13 lethal damage with penetration, 5,000 rounds.
This is a nasty surprise, hidden in the mount for the Laser cannons, set to deploy if anything goes wrong with the lasers.
5 drop down laser turrets
Speed: 6 seconds, 1 aggravated damage
Built like the Millennium Falcon's own, this was a prime case of “having extra is a good thing”, especially with the sheer size of this machine compared to the original.
4 Missile Launchers
Speed: 6 seconds, 100 lethal damage, 10 less damage for every 10 feet of range. 8 rounds each.
Radiant Wave Surger “Shields”:
Speed: 0 seconds, 50 ammunition front, 50 ammunition back



This Millennium Falcon copy was, originally, intended for being an easier, cheaper ship for testing new technology, as well as being a long distance freighter for shuttling equipment between planets.
In the case of the shields, this ship was a test for to see if shields would be possible as a result of the Radiant Wave Surger technology that Erik developed on the fly. Sad to say, the sheer size of the system involved, and the emitters passing through to the outside hull resulted in this massive system taking an extra 2 meters worth of thickness on top of the hull.

As for the weapons, he tried to equip it mostly with the traditional equipment, but hid in extra weapons in case the main laser cannons were damaged. Due to the sheer bulk, however, he snuck in a few extras to ensure the ship would be safe while on the ground.
Unfortunately, there weren't any reactors capable of powering the ship that would be small enough to fit, considering the small height, resulting in Erik having to swear, and put it in storage until he could develop the technology he desperately needed.

[Xamusel]

Hmm... I have to wonder. How likely are you guys going to finish this by the end of the calendar year?

[Kieran]

Possibly . . . Is there a deadline we're unaware of?

[RanmaBushiko]

Hmm... I have to wonder. How likely are you guys going to finish this by the end of the calendar year?

Possibly . . . Is there a deadline we're unaware of?

Hmm. Let's see now... the first "Arc" is done, with character introductions, journeying to Romania, getting set up near Trifas... the second arc is done with the first major fight scenes, and Erik gradually moving back to leave Mordred as a main character. We're just finishing off the "Jack the Ripper's first appearance, followed by the Hanging Gardens showing up" arc as well, with this next chapter being either the last, or one of the last two chapters involved.

We've got 3, maybe 4 more story arcs to go. And trust me, with how the story has changed from canon, we've got quite a wild ride still coming up.

To be honest, we've talked, argued, and chatted about world building a whole hell of a lot for this, gone over MANY plot routes that could happen, and we've chosen a rather interesting setup for the arcs to come. At the same time, getting the chapter to feel just RIGHT can be a pain sometimes. Chapter 34 was a long time in coming, partially because it wound up being a whopping 22 pages long, but it also took a good chunk of time to get everyone's thought processes, dialogue, and reactions to feel like it would in canon Fate/Apocrypha, as well as Canon Fate/Grand Order.

Add in that I binge-read the entirety of Kara no Kyoukai to get Touko's personality as well as I could for this? There's a lot of research, etc. going on behind the scenes, to make sure things will read well, flow smoothly, etc.

[Arbitrarity]

I'm actually a bit surprised Gordes cares about the normal people of Trifas. Though they might contribute to the leylines and Vlad's power, indirectly, somehow. Reasoning with Siegfried isn't exactly what I expect to be his forte either. I suppose since he's going to be on the Falcon, he can't be completely unsympathetic.

I am greatly amused by Shirou attempting to tempt Mash, since that's got some lovely parallels with her existing arc already.

Ah, Amaterasu's Noble Phantasm. Good thing Erik recharged at the Gem, though that's likely to have some consequences.

[RanmaBushiko]

I'm actually a bit surprised Gordes cares about the normal people of Trifas. Though they might contribute to the leylines and Vlad's power, indirectly, somehow. Reasoning with Siegfried isn't exactly what I expect to be his forte either. I suppose since he's going to be on the Falcon, he can't be completely unsympathetic.

I am greatly amused by Shirou attempting to tempt Mash, since that's got some lovely parallels with her existing arc already.

Ah, Amaterasu's Noble Phantasm. Good thing Erik recharged at the Gem, though that's likely to have some consequences.

In this case, it's not Trifas alone, though he's effectively one of the local leaders as long as he's part of Yggdmillenia. Jack the Ripper's holding the entire Capitol City of Romania, Bucharest, hostage here. He'd likely give plenty of excuses for it. That all his stuff is in Romania, so of course he wants it safe! Or perhaps that losing the Capitol City would lead to massive investigations into Magic and Magecraft, with it possibly being revealed.

Really, though, when it comes down to it? Even if he's biased against Homunculi, and not exactly trusting of Servants, he still wants humanity to live. Plus, he's getting to have more characterization than Fate/Apocrypha shows in the anime, that's for sure.

Yes, the whole "Shirou attempting to tempt Mash" was hilarious, in that regards. Unfortunately for him, anything he can offer, Erik already has. Poor, poor Shirou Kotomine. No Mash for you!

As for Amaterasu's Noble Phantasm? Yeah. Definitely going to be issues, and consequences. And hilarity. Can't forget the hilarity. Because with Rin, Gordes and Godafrid in the cockpit with Erik, how do you THINK the conversation is going to be?

[Xamusel]

Okay, question... how do you guys define story arcs, then? I tend to think like in a long-spanning manga/anime in most cases.

[RanmaBushiko]

Okay, question... how do you guys define story arcs, then? I tend to think like in a long-spanning manga/anime in most cases.

You're lucky that I've been having problems sleeping, and caught this.

In this, I'm defining arcs as "the smaller sections of the overall major plot".

If you'd rather I write it down, I can do it like this:
"Introduction of Characters", "The First Few Fights", "Jack the Ripper, as well as the Hanging Gardens", "----------", POSSIBLY yet another arc here, but it's a coin toss, considering how short it's likely to be between all the action, leaving this chunk as more of a sub story arc, "------------", "-----------", "-----------", Epilogue(s), depending, and preparation for sequels.

Roughly, that is. Yes, we've mapped it out. No, you're not getting more than that.

Calling them sub-plots doesn't feel right. Calling them mini-arcs makes it feel like power rangers with their usual one to two episodes of one plot before jumping to something else.

So if you have a better phrase for it, feel free to tell me.

[Xamusel]

Hmm... that sounds an awful lot like how I'd define it in a different style of story I'm working on. Personally, though, I set up arcs in this universe to have stories within them... kinda hard to explain that one, really, since I was thinking along the lines of anime/manga and how it has multiple books in an arc at times. I guess if you think of how the Naruto manga handles it, like the Sasuke Retrieval arc, then you've got it right.

[Arbitrarity]

Yes, the whole "Shirou attempting to tempt Mash" was hilarious, in that regards. Unfortunately for him, anything he can offer, Erik already has. Poor, poor Shirou Kotomine. No Mash for you!

Not just that, but also given the plans of the Part 1 antagonist in FGO and Mash's reaction to them, offering everyone immortality isn't really something that jives well with her.

[Kieran]

I'm actually a bit surprised Gordes cares about the normal people of Trifas. Though they might contribute to the leylines and Vlad's power, indirectly, somehow.

There's a certain level of noblesse oblige involved - Romania is Yggdmillennia territory, so he does bear some responsibility for the people's well-being, if at several removes.

Reasoning with Siegfried isn't exactly what I expect to be his forte either.

No, not at all - but desperation can make great inspiration, and considering the situation . . .

I suppose since he's going to be on the Falcon, he can't be completely unsympathetic.

To be fair, even the anime paints him that way; he's a pompous ass with a certain narrow worldview, and certainly less likeable than say, Fiore or Caules, but he's not a monster (like, say, Darnic or Celenike). No, he doesn't treat the homunculi particularly well, seeing them as tools (with the justification that he made them for this particular purpose) - but neither does he go out of his way to mistreat them, either.

I am greatly amused by Shirou attempting to tempt Mash, since that's got some lovely parallels with her existing arc already.

Not just that, but also given the plans of the Part 1 antagonist in FGO and Mash's reaction to them, offering everyone immortality isn't really something that jives well with her.

Undoubtedly.

Ah, Amaterasu's Noble Phantasm. Good thing Erik recharged at the Gem, though that's likely to have some consequences.

Oh, almost certainly.