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

[Xamusel]

Oh, Kieran, never change.

[Arbitrarity]

This is fascinating. Three sections, and a lot of reveals.
Definitely appreciate the choice of Sakura for the Grail Works interlude. The confluence of magic systems that comprise Godafrid is definitely messy enough to give anyone a headache, but taking a non-Rin perspective on Rin's outbursts is a good way to frame it. Also celebrating Spring Song?

Very interesting that this is literally the threat we expected from the start of the story and thought we stopped, Caster of Black's Golem Keter Malkuth with the Heart of Winter. It's the most reasonable explanation of giant arms, and I feel vindicated in my paranoia that the Heart of Winter was not destroyed. I'm a bit surprised about the Golem being both finished and remaining after Avicebron was killed, admittedly. I definitely did not perceive that being the case. Of course, this might be a narrative misdirection concealing some other threat, given the mild uncertainty Godafrid had.

I can definitely see getting some value out of Excalibur's planet-defending properties. It's interesting, because we've never really seen Artoria make use of the seals on Excalibur, but I've heard it likely applies.

Godafrid's perspective is also extremely interesting, because he has the best view on the meta-system effects that are likely to be in play. Lord Camelot... might be able to protect against Reality Marble-type effects? It did some work against Nega-Genesis, anyways. I have to love his attempt to invoke Alaya, it's like tempting fate, but in your favor. As per usual, only negative outcomes come from trying to tempt fate.

I do not understand the reference to Glories of the Most High except that it's an Exalted sourcebook. There are a few ideas that come to mind, since Olga is the focus of his interest after that thought. We know young Olga has some ability to summon a meteor shower, and may have other Astromancy abilities. Were Godafrid a Sidereal, there might be some exploits involving Divination and Astromancy. The much more interesting possibility is Gnosis, since we're mentioning Gaia a few times. That would be... I don't even know what that would be, but it would definitely be a clusterfuck. Just summoning a big meteor shower might suffice, but I can't help but feel like the mention of Glories must be somehow significant, I just don't know why yet. It could just be an obscure Charm I'm not thinking of, but I'm not sure how Olga would help with that.

[Kieran]

Oh, Kieran, never change.

You had fun, then, I take it?

This is fascinating. Three sections, and a lot of reveals.

Thank you.

Definitely appreciate the choice of Sakura for the Grail Works interlude. The confluence of magic systems that comprise Godafrid is definitely messy enough to give anyone a headache, but taking a non-Rin perspective on Rin's outbursts is a good way to frame it. Also celebrating Spring Song?

Mostly my trying to give the neglected of the four Fate heroines (at least, in my writing) some screen time, and try to nail down At least some of what happened in the Works' Grail War . . .

As I've noted before, unless there's a specific reason for something not to have happened once an event has been detailed (as with Darnic possessing the Greater Grail in the F/GO Apocrypha event), I see no reason it wouldn't recur (like it did here). Likewise, while the Greater Grail might have been pure by the time the Works' War rolled around, events in Fate/Zero have to have played out as they do in canon. As such, Sakura was almost certainly implanted with that (tainted) Lesser Grail's remains - which, with a bit of suspension of disbelief, explains Rider's presence with the existence of a purified Holy Grail.

As this is (theoretically) the "Ilya" route, things having gone the full plot of "Heaven's Feel" is unlikely; but the existence of Dark Sakura is at least a possibility. Heck, given the existence of BB and Kama in the wider Fate multiverse, Dark Sakura manifesting as a separate entity here is not impossible . . .

Very interesting that this is literally the threat we expected from the start of the story and thought we stopped, Caster of Black's Golem Keter Malkuth with the Heart of Winter. It's the most reasonable explanation of giant arms, and I feel vindicated in my paranoia that the Heart of Winter was not destroyed. I'm a bit surprised about the Golem being both finished and remaining after Avicebron was killed, admittedly. I definitely did not perceive that being the case. Of course, this might be a narrative misdirection concealing some other threat, given the mild uncertainty Godafrid had.

As said in-story, from my understanding, the thing is at least partially comprised of physical components, rather than simply conjured or summoned wholesale. As such, the Heart of Winter found its structure - along with the material and energy of Yggdmillennia's homunculi - a suitable foundation to begin its efforts to rebuild the Titan Ymir . . .

I can definitely see getting some value out of Excalibur's planet-defending properties. It's interesting, because we've never really seen Artoria make use of the seals on Excalibur, but I've heard it likely applies.

So far as I've heard, Excalibur as we know it from the VN and related adaptations is about halfway unsealed; what I'm not sure of is how each seal scales in terms of power release. It might be a percentage, it might be a multiplier, it might be an exponent - but I'm sure the results will be impressive.

Godafrid's perspective is also extremely interesting, because he has the best view on the meta-system effects that are likely to be in play. Lord Camelot... might be able to protect against Reality Marble-type effects? It did some work against Nega-Genesis, anyways.

Good to know, thank you.

I have to love his attempt to invoke Alaya, it's like tempting fate, but in your favor. As per usual, only negative outcomes come from trying to tempt fate.

Yup.

I do not understand the reference to Glories of the Most High except that it's an Exalted sourcebook.

Glories of the Most High are a series of sourcebooks related to the deities of Exaltation. They give descriptions, history, relationships with the mortal Realm and their Exalted, stats on avatars (if you're crazy enough to use them), and a list of Charms (and/or rituals) for those Exalts who have an Essence of 6 and up.

There are a few ideas that come to mind, since Olga is the focus of his interest after that thought. We know young Olga has some ability to summon a meteor shower, and may have other Astromancy abilities. Were Godafrid a Sidereal, there might be some exploits involving Divination and Astromancy. The much more interesting possibility is Gnosis, since we're mentioning Gaia a few times. That would be... I don't even know what that would be, but it would definitely be a clusterfuck. Just summoning a big meteor shower might suffice, but I can't help but feel like the mention of Glories must be somehow significant, I just don't know why yet. It could just be an obscure Charm I'm not thinking of, but I'm not sure how Olga would help with that.

We'll have to wait and see - interesting ideas, though.

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 74: Wherein the Fan is hit by a Dump Truck Full of Shit


3:55 AM, July 5th
The Ruins of the Hanging Gardens

The first sign something was wrong, Scylla admitted to himself, was the running of the Servants past the few mecha that remained, while calling out to “Run or give covering fire”, no less. Mash outright screaming to “Kill it, before it could get them too!” was a rather dangerous cause for concern.

The second sign was the massive golem, far bigger than the bulk of Erik’s coming after them, tearing through everything in its path while using a giant flat chunk of faintly familiar metal as a makeshift weapon. The last remaining Basmu that Semiramis had summoned, still remaining out of sheer spite alone did nothing to the damned golem either.

The third sign that something was wrong was the plasma cannon doing jack shit to the thing. That’s the moment he brought the problem up to his boss.

“Erik, we’ve got a problem. Giant rampaging golem going through the Hanging Gardens, and tearing through our mechs like a hot knife through butter. The plasma cannon’s only singed it, and we don’t have much weapons left.” Scylla reports using what internal speakers are left.

“Shit. Pull us back so the others can run onto the hull, then pull us back further, will you? I’m on my way!” Erik replies quickly.

“To where, boss?!” Scylla retorts. “We’ve got the railgun, sure, but what’s that going to do to that thing?!”

“Have one of the Legion of Coal move the nuke into the railgun as a safety measure. I’ll be at the bridge in a minute.” Erik retorts, sounding more out of breath than normal.

Moments later, he arrives, the power armor shaking as he shakes his head slowly. “Wonderful stuff, but the blood loss for the Cosmoreactor is irritating.” Erik mutters, before looking at Scylla. “What’s our status?”

“We’ve still got heavy damage to decks 5 and 6. They aren’t open to air, but we lost most of the air purification systems when they were taken out.” Scylla reports.

Erik nods, rubbing the chin of his helmet, before briefly frowning. Then he looks closer, narrowing his eyes at the sight of a large lump rapidly traveling through the wreckage of the Hanging Gardens. “That’s it, then?”

A nod from Scylla is the only answer Erik gets, leaving Erik more pensive.

“Any reports from our units inside about what it’s using?” Erik asks, starting to pace.

“Ice. Ice like yours at your best.” Scylla replies, quietly, leaving Erik wincing.

“We’re good on ammunition for the missile launchers, but do we have any rounds meant for fighting ice opponents left?” Erik muses, thinking.

“Aside from Radiant Wave Surgers? No.” Scylla admits.

“Have the rest of the units switch over to lasers and explosives only that are in the Hanging Gardens. Mordred, if you can hear me? Get ready to drop from above with your Radiant Wave Surger, might be one of the only shots we have for this.” Erik orders.

“Got it, Erik. No problem.” Mordred’s voice cuts out a moment later, as the mech she’s in flies higher.

Erik’s eyes narrow, before he nods. “Get ready to pull us back once they’re on board, Scylla. Bring us down so we can get the top guns aimed at the entrance, as well as the plasma cannon.” Erik pauses, thinking. “Now where’d my Wolf Wing go?”

Erik goes still as his wife’s arms wrap around him from behind. “We’ve got your back, dear. I know you can get us through this.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared, though.” Erik quietly admits. “Looks like this was what Zelretch warned us about.”

“Your hoverpod’s on the secondary bridge, Erik.” Scylla speaks up after a moment. “I had it moved there for repairs, after the clusterfuck in Trifas. It’s still pretty banged up though, so the flight systems are inoperable even if most everything else is.”

“It’s just stuck in the bigger mode due to damage, so it can’t leave the secondary bridge, right?” Erik mutters, then nods. “I’ll be heading there then to help with the guns.”

Tamamo turns him around, kissing him hard on the lips. “Be safe, my husband.”

“Always, my wife.” With those words, Erik leaves, racing to a functional elevator.

Scylla sighs softly, nodding, then glances around the ship. “Eta 30 seconds before the opponent is out of the tunnels!”

The rest of the people on the bridge perk up, as an exhausted Fiore arrives from a lower level. “Getting back up was a horrible mess, so I’m sorry for taking so long.”

Scylla glances over, and nods. “No worries.”

Sparks arise from a console, leaving Scylla looking at it sharply, before blinking at the PA system on the ship suddenly playing music. “A glitch from the damage? Wait, why am I hearing boss music?!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SG76TykH_k (The Crown of War)

To the eyes of everyone on the bridge, the massive titanic form of the ice coated golem comes out, screaming in rage as he pursues the foes before him, one arm holding a massive, if thin, chunk of metal as a makeshift sword. Ahead of him, the remaining Servants sent in desperately run for their lives from the massive monstrous golem, rushing towards the safety of the Wolfen.

The massive golem throws the makeshift sword at them, as Mash glances behind. Moments later, the familiar shape of a massive shield slams into existence around her own, sending it flying high up into the sky… then embedding far back in the Wolfen’s top hull.

Above, Mordred attempts to fire her rifle, before frowning at it coming in on empty. Moments later, she tries the grenade launcher, with a bit more success, before frowning at that coming up with an empty clip as well.

“Scylla, do you have any spare weapons for me? Melee perhaps? I could really use a laser sword or something right now…” Mordred half shouts over the communications system.

“Don’t you have the melee nuke weapon in the fist? Use that for now.” Erik’s voice hits her, before she grins widely. “Wait until they’re on the hull, then come down like a divinely forged fist, in my name. I’ll give backup with the top guns soon enough.”

“Oh, you say all the best things, Erik, and give me all the best toys, too!” Mordred smirks, as her fighter slams higher into the air for extra damage to her next blow.

Right as Mash and the other Servants cross the gap over to the hull of the Wolfen, Mordred smiles, hearing Erik’s voice again in her head. “Finally at my Wolf Wing. Now to pull up outer cameras, and…holy SHIT he’s huge. Normally I’d be out supporting you in Metal Gear Rex MK3, but some of the subsystems are still coming up with issues right now after that last fight.” Erik admits. “Even still, I’ve got you covered. I’ve slaved all the guns on the top deck to my controls, and I’m aiming to fire the moment he tries to board, while Nestor’s backing us up.”

Mordred nods, then focuses. “Got it, Erik. Watch out, though. I’m not sure how durable he is, and I’ve taken a beating already. Got any laser swords I might be able to use, on that note? The gunpod is empty of ammunition.”

Erik thinks for a moment, then nods. “Top deck, left side. You should see a couple outcroppings of oversized laser swords there, and there’s a couple normal sized ones. They’re not as good as my Raika, but they’re still potent.”
With a loud, massive roar, the titanic golem, rapidly coating itself with more ice leaps, then lands on top of the Wolfen’s deck. Then, the eyes of the massive golem narrow, as it starts searching for something.

The eyes narrow further, to slits, as it stares straight at the cafeteria built within the Wolfen, before opening back up in surprise and a touch of recognition, right before Mordred’s mech she’s been riding slams into him at just upwards of mach 3, one arm glowing with a raging red of radioactive light as she hits him.

He doesn’t move an inch from it. It isn’t that the hit didn’t land. No, his armor is boiled off, where her blow struck. A huge rent in his skin underneath is opened up, showing massive damage.

No, he simply doesn’t care. Or so it seems, as the massive golem frowns at the shapeshifting fighter below him.

Then bats Mordred out of the way, looking once more at the Servants running away from him with a darker frown.

A wall of ice slamming into existence ahead of them is his reply to their running, leaving them wide eyed and turning to face him. A slow, menacing grin covers his face, as he moves to step forwards, a massive icy blade forming in one hand as he does so.

Then the deck guns open fire, lasers carving through the ice wall like a hot knife through butter while the railguns try to push him off the Wolfen’s hull.

“Erik! Our Servants are exhausted from all the fighting, we simply don’t have much power left for to help you out with that thing! We need some time to recover! Can you give us it?” Touko’s voice echoes in the room he’s in.

“Got it, we’ll try our best. We’re running low on mecha that can fight that thing, though…” Erik replies, trying to angle the guns to do the most amounts of damage to the massive golem foe.

Mordred dashes in again, swinging her mech’s gauntlet covered arm, glowing bright with radiation, as she pushes the war machine to its limits. A flicker of warmth rushing through her as she grips the controls tighter, wishing for one moment that the Radiant Wave Surger won’t go out so quickly, that it will hold… and doesn’t notice, as her new ring glows softly.

Crunch

The massive sound of her mech’s arm punching through the golem’s armor leaves her grinning, but not nearly as much as the glow of radiation staying.

“Oh, hell yes!” Mordred whispers, with a grin. “I’ve got you now, you bastard!”

Mordred flings the war machine forwards, pushing it into melee combat once more. The groan and crunch of her war machine’s blows hitting the massive golem, sending it backwards fills her with glee as she constantly puts pressure on it.



The sight of the Servants running into an opening in the hole, and getting into the ship leaves Erik grinning.

“Pull us back, Nestor, then get ready to flip the ship on it’s side when you can!” Erik orders over the PA system. “Let’s drop it on the ground, before hitting it with the plasma cannon!”

Erik frowns at a cold blizzard slowly forming around the massive golem, snow and ice flowing towards the golem rather than snowing everywhere on the Wolfen.

The Golem looking towards the ship itself with an expression of irritation, before it pauses, and looks towards Erik himself somehow.

Then the look of irritation turns to surprise, and no little… happiness? Glee? Joy?

It’s hard for Erik to recognize it, as he continues firing the top side guns at the massive golem.

Moments later, the Golem stares at the Wolfen with a look that screams “understanding”, before adjusting itself to fight Mordred, instead.

The massive armor of ice forming around it leaves a feeling of terror slowly forming around Erik’s gut. The massive sword forming in one hand, made of ice, leaves the feeling of terror growing wider. He’s used those skills himself, after all. If it’s consciously using them…





What advanced towards them was a living glacier, or maybe avalanche, with the golem’s presence a mere shadow in its reflective depths; a blur or imperfection that suggested a humanoid form buried in the core of the ice. Not quite the Titan of myth, let alone the “moon-sized entity” of Scion lore, but certainly something that evoked the primeval, primordial being in both concept and presence.

Even the memories taken from his magus identity didn’t really have a reference point for something this scale—a TYPE, maybe, if he considered what he’d read of them—otherwise, a full-sized Kingprotea or Sefar was the closest he could think of, and even they were undersized by comparison. And its size was gradually but steadily increasing as he watched. Not just the zone around it, as in the way the golem’s abilities were supposed to work, but the actual entity itself . . .

Was it an effect of Ymir’s heart, he wondered, or a sign of something worse? Adam Kademon’s inherent ability, as he recalled, was akin to a Reality Marble, but it transformed the world into “the Garden of Eden”—which, in theory, Gaia wouldn’t suppress like it might any other Reality Marble. It was contrary to the world as it worked, true, but was ultimately a preferable state of being forthe Planet. And looked at from a Biblical point of view, the primordial first man had been given “dominion over the Earth,” which might help tilt things on a conceptual level.

Of course, with the mind and will of a Greater Titan (what little they had of such things) driving those factors—again, the closest thing Gaia or Alaya had to a peer—it meant that the Will of the Planet might not be able to suppress it even if it wanted to. Which meant their window of opportunity to interfere was probably closing faster than they thought . . .

Which means this had better wo—

“You want to WHAT?!”

Olga Marie Animusphere’s shriek cut through his ruminations, as well it should—not only was she just as high-strung now as she was in her twenties, what her barely-pubescent form lacked in relative lungpower, it more than made up for in shrillness.
“I need to borrow Sapphire, if both you and she will allow it,” he repeated.

“. . . Is it time for that ‘final plan?’” she asked, more than a little fearfully.

Frid shook his head. “Not yet—and if this works, you may not have to use it.”

It was a little difficult to let himself be heard over the thundering of exchanges between the Titan and the combined Faction remnant, but he was used to having to speak up; the fact that he hadn’t until now had just been a welcome change. Still, it was gratifying to see Olga’s expression relax, however slightly, from what he’d said.

(Not that he blamed her in the slightest. That contingency plan, if it worked, could likely beat even Ymir; but using it would also mean that literally everything had gone to hell and a catastrophe on par with “the Incineration of the Human Order” was incoming—anything less than that was likely a welcome alternative.)

“For what purpose, sir?”asked the Kaleidostick politely.

Frid had already decided that he had to give her the truth; it was the only way for this to work properly. But even so, it still had to be couched in terms that Sapphire could grasp . . .

“There’s a Mystic Code grafted to my soul,” he began. “It has potential abilities that, in some ways, are almost specifically designed for this kind of fight—but it isn’t possible for me to utilise that potential right now. It needs at least a century of experience, if not twice that or more, to be able to access the levels of power and applications that could make it a threat to that thing . . . But if what I’ve heard of the Kaleidoscope is correct, then maybe you can provide that? I’m told one of the Wizard Marshal’s favourite pranks is to download someone into an analogue of themselves from another facet . . .”

Sapphire drooped, her ribbon wings folding apologetically across the star that served as her “face.”

“Unfortunately, sir, my functions are primarily restricted to operating within the parameters of the ‘magical girl genre,’”she said. “Even if I bent them to allow such a ‘transformation sequence’ as you describe, it would require the inclusion of an exterior catalyst—”
Like the Class Cards, Frid realised.

His ersatz Exaltation wasn’t enough by itself, any more than a Magic Crest would be—the Exaltation was the subject of the transformation, and the Kaleidostick the medium through which it was achieved . . . But neither of those things would serve as the source itself.

A surprisingly low chuckle suddenly resonated in the back of his skull, and it was only by observing the expressions of those around him that Frid realised it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Such despair—truly, Maestro, how could possibly believe that such a supreme performeras I would miss her cue . . .?”

“You have a talking Mystic Code, too?” Olga Marie asked excitedly, even as Mash mouthed “NERO?!” with eyes wide enough to justify using the all-caps in Frid’s mind (not that he blamed her).

“Indeed!” the Heroic Spirit proclaimed, Aestus Estus seeming to gleam brighter at the prideful tone. “And worry not, for I am well-aware of precisely what my Maestro speaks of; if catalyst you require to unlock his true power, then surely, no better one than I can exist! Indeed, ‘twas for this very moment that I was made!”

Nero, are you serious?

“I will admit that I was hoping for a longer vacation,” the Heroic Spirit admitted, and as she continued, Frid became aware that this was directed at him alone (Mash wasn’t freaking out nearly enough to indicate that she was hearing it). “But do recall, Maestro, that I am here in my entirety—along with, as can only be expected, the knowledge of every possible instance of myself summoned from the Throne of Heroes. While I may lack the mechanism to alter my own Saint Graph, at present, I know precisely how your equivalent may be used.”

Olga Marie blinked. “Really? But how would—?”

“Erik has a habit of being ridiculously prepared, and his wife’s no slouch when it comes to divining the future,” Frid said simply.

He couldn’t remember off-hand if Tamamo actually had the Mystery or Prophecy Purviews, but she did have the Magic one, and it dealt with manipulating Fate (and Fatebindings) directly. Between that and her sense of humour, Aestus Estus being her idea in the first place wouldn’t have surprised him.

“. . . It is not an unworkable idea,” Sapphire allowed. “But I am bound to Mistress Olga Marie—”

“I know how to make temporary contracts,” Mash volunteered—which made sense. Dealing with all those Event Servants had to be good for something, Frid supposed . . .

“Even so,” Sapphire stressed, “while I can provide prana to operate whatever functions are necessary while transformed, your own reserves will still be responsible for maintaining the transformation itself. If you intend to match the intensity of these signatures, it will not last long, and at these levels, may cause severe damage to your Mystic Code—or Magic Circuits.”

“The alternative is literally watching the world freeze to death,” Frid pointed out. “If there’s a better reason to pull out the final transformations and suicide attacks, I don’t want to know what it is.”

“. . . That is a very ‘magical girl’ way of thinking—it will likely help,” Sapphire said. “Mistress, will you allow it?”

Olga started. “Wha--? Of course!” Though caught by surprise, she reverted to the prideful noble mask of her adulthood with depressing speed. “After all, it’s the duty of the Animusphere to safeguard humanity!”

“Understood, Mistress,” Sapphire responded. “Detaching to begin emergency operation . . .”

“And if this helps further,” Nero added—and he could hear the sly smirk in her voice, damn it—“while not strictly ‘magical girl’ in nature, I can assure you that it’s very Japanese . . .”





The return to blows comes quick, as Mordred pushes things faster in an effort to win right here and now while her Radiant Wave Surger still has fuel. It comes down to Mordred’s Radiant Wave Surger, a melee nuke weapon, versus the golem’s ice sword.

As the ice blade shatters from the heat of her melee attack, Mordred simply grins.

Another rush of heat flows through her, as she flings herself at the massive golem. Chunks of ice melting instantly, as the clawed gauntlet of her mech tears into it, over and over again.

Carving through the armor in the exact same spot, as she pushes in, and through the ice armor, struggling to carve into the golem. For one moment, she grins, before the golem screams in agony and sends her flying backwards.


Minutes pass, as the Wolfen slowly limps away from the ruins of the Hanging Gardens, Mordred constantly fighting the massive golem with support from the topside guns. Then the ship abruptly tilts to one side.

Mordred’s grin of glee is replaced by horror as the golem slams into the ground, only to rapidly start to grow, as the ice builds up far, far faster than before. A new arm growing out of ice leaves her glaring.

“Erik… I think we may have just fucked up by letting it touch the ground…” Mordred sends, before moving her new war machine to grab a laser sword from where Erik directed her to, before, and looks down.

The echoing roar of the plasma cannon is Erik’s reply, as he opens fire with it. Swarms of missiles and mortars barrage the ice armor, as Erik tests things out personally.

When it treads out of the smoke, it’s looking up at the Wolfen in surprise, even as ice flows to repair the damaged armor. A huge hole in it’s impromptu-formed shield, a massive gash in it’s armor, and a slowly regenerating golem within is what they’re greeted with.

Then the look of surprise is replaced by amusement, as it starts to grow faster.

In retaliation, the Wolfen opens up with everything it has. Constant streams of lasers and railgun rounds from the top hull whenever the Wolfen is angled correctly, streams of mortar rounds and missiles all slam into the massive golem, with the occasional plasma cannon shot mixed in for good measure.

Mordred meanwhile fights from behind, attacking with sword and gauntlet in her mech. Flying glancing hits to the top, whenever the smoke lets up enough for her to stab or claw. For long minutes, they attack like this, before the Wolfen’s weapons go quiet, the barrels glowing red hot.




Meanwhile...
Tertiary Launch Deck, Battleship Wolfen
Ten minutes later




“Can you repeat that back to me, please, Scylla?”

“You’re going to need a minute to build up and do your thing, and then try to open up a hole in its defenses—even if it’s just by depleting its reserves through recovering,” the ship’s AI repeated. “Once you’re clear, the Boss can unleash holy hell on the bastard—and you hope that you’ll have wrecked it enough for that to do the job.”

“More or less,” Frid admitted.

This wouldn’t be his first “Hail Mary” (and hopefully not his last), but its working depended on a fair bit of luck, some coincidence, and no small amount of faith—both in metaphysical concepts, and in Nero, to know what she was talking about . . . And oddly, he had less trouble with that last part than one might expect; the various TYPE-MOON media might portray her as foolish, but never about a fight—and she was endearing enough to overlook or tolerate most of her foibles as they stood.

. . . I would be angry, but I am reminded that you do not know me as I know you—to the point that I can say much the same in return.

Her mental voice was about as dry as when she referred to Artoria as the “hungry King of old” in Fate/Grand Carnival; Frid couldn’t help but smile.

That’s better, she murmured. Smiling faces are always preferable . . . Are you ready, my Maestro?

Frid took a deep breath. “Here goes everything.”

Then let our performance commence—!

“Sapphire . . .” he commanded.

“Install/Install!” cried two as one.

The light show was impressive, but unlike most such operations of a Kaleidostick, little physical change was shown. Oh, there was some element of refining his physical form, but Exalts, and Celestial Exalts especially, showed very little of age’s effects. The most visible change from Frid’s prior form—aside from the visage of “Godafrid” being dismissed (which, as previously noted, was very close to his “normal” form to begin with) was the vanishing of Aestus Estus from his hands, as well as the sudden appearance of his tattoos.

Mentally, however, the sudden addition of a millennium of experience, and all the skills and abilities developed therein, was a bit more intense, and he needed a minute to get it sorted in his head.
“. . . All right,” he said at last. “Open the bay doors, please—it’s time to get going.”

So saying, he loped towards them in a ground-eating stride, timing it just so to dive headfirst through the gap as it was barely big enough to permit someone of his dimensions to pass through, arcing through the air like an arrow—and he maintained that position, minimising wind resistance so that he would fall faster, mentally calculating the distance required to not hit the Wolfen when he came back up, while not injuring himself when he hit the ground.

That was only part of his focus, however; the rest was split between observing the battle as it was ongoing and marshalling his Essence. This effort would require everything he could muster, and at best, he’d have two shots, and no more—
But he absolutely intended that to be enough.

When his mind was fully prepared, and his body had reached the ideal point in space, he reached deep into that pool of divinity, and unleashed its ultimate expression.

[GOD-BEAST TRANSCENDENCE]

Once more, as the smoke clears, the Golem appears. Not unscathed, they can see. But slowly regenerating damage inside the ice armor, as it’s reality marble counters it. A smile upon its massive face, as it looks at the Wolfen.

Then it brings it’s hands together to clap at the performance from both.

“A̴̔͜s̴̗̒ ̶̻̓e̴͈͋ẍ̸̡p̶̦̽ȩ̶̈́c̵͙̈́t̸̲͆ȇ̸̠d̴͖̽ ̵̰͆ơ̶̬f̴̢͘ ̸̞̕t̶̝̚ẖ̸̚e̴̱͒ ̷̘̈́s̷̻̓u̴̩̿p̴̧͒e̸̞͝r̸̥̿n̴̘͒á̴̳t̸͚̀u̵̗͘r̴̤͗ä̵̘́l̵͠ ̼ ̵̙̃s̵̛̫e̸͓̅r̵̦̐v̶̺͑à̸ͅn̵̘̏t̶͕͊ ̸͉̽o̶̦̍f̴͚̎ ̷͈͑o̴̼͒n̴̮̅e̷̘̍ ̸͖͛o̴̙̊f̶̬̈́ ̶̣̀m̵̖̂ẏ̸̪ ̴̟̇d̶͕̚ḙ̸̓ś̷̮c̵̥͒ḙ̵͐n̴̥͐d̷̙̊a̵̻̓ň̸ͅt̴̡̃s̷͇͐,̸̏ ̖ ̶̦̒a̶͔͑n̶̨̈́d̵̲̉ ̴͉̈ḿ̸̗y̵͕͘ ̴̥̊o̷͚͋ẁ̵͍ṇ̴͠ ̵̹͆d̶̖̿e̷̛̻ṡ̶̼c̵̥͝é̷͕n̶̬͂d̵͌ͅă̶͉ṋ̵̄ẗ̶̜.̷̾ ̺ ̷̩̀ ̸͎̈Q̴̹͐u̸̠͗i̵̞̔t̶͓̀ȇ̷͉ ̶͔͌a̸̡̽ ̵͉̓f̷͉̐a̷͚͒ṣ̷͘c̴̹͐i̴͕̔ṅ̵͈ā̴̗t̴͓͒ï̴̘ṉ̶͑g̸̹̐…̴͊ ̰ ̷͕͗b̷̥̌õ̴͓ạ̸͝t̸̆ͅ?̸͈̇ ̶̩͂ ̷̺̎T̶̤̀h̸̩͠ä̴̭́t̵̨͑ ̷̟͗y̷̙͂o̵̦͌u̷̒͜ ̸̭̈́h̸̫̔ȧ̶͖v̵̼͠e̸̬̚ ̶̲̽ṭ̵̇h̸͓͑ĕ̵͔r̶̜̐è̷̖.̴̼̓ ̵͍̌ ̶͖͌G̶̛̰r̶̘͛a̷̲͂n̷̤̂d̴̰̿s̷̥̽o̸̖͊n̸̼͂,̸̗͑ ̷̖̑p̸̤͆ė̴͔ȓ̷̝h̸͓̅a̶̬͌p̵̨͌s̴̬͗?̶̹̆ ̴̖͂ ̴͓́Ó̴̭r̴̓ͅ ̸͈̆g̶̣̚r̵͈͊ë̴̢ä̵̦́t̵͕͂-̶̣́g̶̳̾r̴͈̈a̴̩͌n̶̫̽d̴̜́s̷̼̕o̶̰͑ñ̴̻?̸̜̀” The golem smirks from under it’s icy armor. “̴̭̓T̵̼̅r̶͙̈́u̷͎̅l̷̼̈́y̸̭͒,̷̗̊ ̴͎̈́a̵̦͌ ̶̛̩g̷̟͌r̵̯͒ä̴̪n̶̢͒d̸̨̑ ̵̙̈́s̶̡̃h̷̖̋o̶͓̽ẉ̷̒ ̷̬̔w̶̥̕ǫ̵̋r̴̭̀t̵̥̐ḧ̶͖ỳ̵̥ ̶͇̾ò̸͉f̴͉̓ ̷͎̆a̶͔̓ ̴̼̾d̴̯͋e̴͜͝s̸̳̔ċ̸̬e̸͉͂ǹ̸̢d̶͚͊a̶̝͠n̶̟͒t̵͊ͅ ̵̅͜o̴͖͆f̷͠ͅ ̸̟͛o̷̳̒n̷͎̐e̸̗͒ ̵͍͂ơ̷̼f̵͕̆ ̷̦̚m̴̫̏y̷̱͂ ̸̲͆o̴̘̓w̵̟̔ṉ̷̚.̵̱̆”


Mordred’s throat clenches with slow, dawning horror, as she pulls her mech up higher, even as the Radiant Wave Surger gutters out. A glance over at the controls showing it running on empty leaves her wincing in understanding.

“̴͕͝I̴̩͊ ̷̘̿ḛ̴͆x̷̙̌p̶̝͑e̴͎̓c̵̢̋t̴͈͑e̵̊͜d̵̞̑ ̴̠̀y̸̹͑ö̷̠ǘ̴͔ ̵̡̒t̷̤̆ọ̴̊ ̷̺̆b̶̞̃ȅ̵̦ ̶͎̂w̶̟̏ȏ̶̡r̷̹̈́t̷̯̏h̴͚̏ẙ̶̻ ̴̮̊o̶͚͗f̶̳̉ ̵̬͘m̸̙̉y̶͍̅ ̷͓̍t̶͍̽i̸̖̚t̵̨̿l̸̲͛ë̸͉,̴̧͝ ̸̼͒t̸̃͜ǫ̸͂ ̵̻͗t̸͓̅a̵͔͂k̵̟͠e̵̤͌ ̷̘̔ỏ̵̰n̸̠̒ ̷̙́m̸̺͒y̴͇͋ ̷̨̓ō̸̝ẅ̸̳́n̸̡̄ ̶̟͆m̶̛̻a̵̱͌ǹ̸ͅt̶͓̕l̵̻͋e̸̙̍.̶̥̂ ̶͎͑ ̵̳̒Ȋ̶̪n̸̟̂s̸̖̏t̵͚̍e̷̠͐a̴̢̎ď̴̥,̶̟̎ ̷͈̏I̵̠̔ ̸̥̈́f̶̩́i̶̡̽n̷̻̿d̷͔̔ ̷̛̦y̷͎̓ơ̷͔u̶̠͆ ̴̨̎ò̶̪n̵̢̋ ̷̩̒t̵̜͝h̵̻̽e̴͓͋ ̴̩̑v̸̞͌e̴̛͖r̷̹͊g̴̫̍e̴̺̚ ̸̰͋o̷̅ͅf̸̛̝ ̴̗͋ŷ̵͕o̵̺̽ụ̶͊r̵̗̅ ̴̣̃ọ̶̇w̴̲͘n̷̛̗,̸̳͐ ̷̞̔c̵̙̐a̵̲̍p̵̳̋a̴̚ͅb̸͓͗l̵̜͌e̶̢̐ ̸̧̌o̸̯̎f̵̝́ ̶̼̈b̷̫̈́ȩ̵̏c̸͇͛o̶̟̒ṁ̶͙i̴̦̿n̸̙̾g̴̨̊ ̷͓͘á̸͚n̸͔͋o̶̡̐ṱ̶̇h̴̹̃e̴̫̐r̴̡̋ ̷̝̂l̴̗̈́ḭ̷̓k̶̯͒e̷̗̐ ̶͓́m̸̭̏e̵̠͐ ̵͎̒o̷̤͐u̶̕͜t̷̝͒r̴͇̋i̵͉̔g̶̢͗h̸͝ͅt̶̝́!̵̥̀ ̸̣̕ ̴͖̈C̸̠͒ȍ̵͍n̸̦̓ḡ̶̳r̸̦͝a̶̻̔t̵̪̿ǘ̸͕l̶͇̀ä̷ͅt̸̜̍i̷͝ ̜ò̶͖n̶̬̑s̶̜̓,̵̧̀ ̷͉͗m̷͙͒y̴̼̿ ̶̙̀d̴̫͒e̶̘͑s̸͈̋c̸̡̑e̸͖̐n̵̲̕d̴̙̓ä̶̲ń̶͎ṯ̸̏,̷̕ ̤ ̸͕̊ÿ̷̘ö̸͖́ṵ̴̇ ̷̟̿ṁ̵̱a̵̘͌k̷͖̉e̶̞͒ ̸̦͠y̵̲͘õ̵͜ư̷̪ŕ̴̻ ̷̤͘g̵̜̐r̸͈̃a̵̛̬n̷̥̉ḏ̷͑f̴͈͘à̷͉t̸͎̒h̵͂͜e̶̘̽r̸͂ ̭ ̴͈̅p̸̨͆r̵̲͠o̸̭͒ù̶͍d̵̤̀!̶͔̏” The massive golem smirks up at Erik’s location.



The first warning was the footsteps, of course—but with the Titanic golem rampaging around, to say nothing of the sheer volume of firepower being thrown around, missing a second set of rhythmic shockwaves was almost forgivable. The same was true for the light—but the heat was a different matter entirely. Prior to this point, the air had been consistently below freezing; the freezing point of water, certainly, but it had been plunging rapidly to the point that it threatened to freeze the gases in the air, as well.
Therefore, the sudden bloom of a thermal spike—such that ordinary, untreated (read: not divinely-manufactured) steel began melting in its general vicinity—was definitely noticeable, to put it mildly. Snow hissed into steam for metres around the object generating it; and the scale of the object was no small thing in itself, matching the entirety of the golem’s blizzard in size.

It looked as though someone had decided to make a Godzilla sculpture mostly out of lava, somehow—its entire body was glowing in red and gold, with black shadows serving as definition—but he could tell that it was definitely an actual living creature. What something like that was doing out of Muspelheim, though

Erik blinked. “Where, how who and why the HELL did we get a fucking KAIJU for this fight? Dear . . .?”

“It’s not my doing,” his wife assured him. “And it’s not quite accurate to Gojira, though it’s certainly cl—”

A low rumble began filling the air, and as bolts of energy crackled the wicked-looking dorsal plates began lighting up, going from the tip of the tail to the top of the creature’s head, in a very familiar pattern—

What followed, however, was not a stream of radiation, but a visible pulse, like someone had condensed the entire concept of a sunrise, the most primordial concept of “fire” in existence, into the shape of a blooming rose. Its golden radiance swept over the battlefield, its brilliance shining across the glacial form of the Titan; and being further refracted and reflected through it, becoming a thousand million sparks that cut into the very core of its nature . . . And outright disintegrated two-thirds of its mass in the process.

The agonised scream that echoed in response was a wall of pure noise almost too horrifying to be considered sound—

“Uh, actually Boss,” Scylla informed him, sounding embarrassed (and causing Erik to realise he’d actually spoken that last bit aloud), “that was from the whatever-it-was attack.”

“I think my ears are bleeding,” Erik muttered, even as he watched the golem regenerate itself in a fraction of a second; looking, again, as though it had never even been scratched—

So naturally, the ersatz Godzilla-wannabe chose that moment to hit it again, with a pulse that was even brighter, hotter, and louder than before.

The force of the noise rattled his craft, and sent cracks through his viewscreen—and if there was a piece of glass intact anywhere within twenty miles of here, Erik would become give up engineering to become the Norse God of Flower Arranging—but despite the pain and confusion he was experiencing, it was almost worth it to see five-sixths of the nascent Titan’s totality vanish with it . . .

Only to come back in that same time frame as before, whole and hale—and the burning creature had somehow vanished.

“Oh, damn it, what do we have to do to KILL this fucking thing?!”

Now intellectually (and as a God of Mecha and all the science-fiction-related concepts associated with it, he had a lot of intellect), he’d known it wasn’t liable to be easy. Containing any Titan had taken the force of an entire pantheon—or all of them, depending on how you interpreted it. Muspelheim, for example, might have focussed especially on the Aesir, being driven primarily by Surtr; but Prometheus and Kagutsuchi, among others, were also active Avatars within it. And yes, they’d managed to kill Surtr—but that had required the whole of his Band, not just Tamamo, all the forces he could build as well as the army of Svartalfheim, a few Valkyries, and a LOT of luck . . .

Still, Ymir had been the only damned Titan who’d ever been killed outright—and even aside from being dead, this was just a piece of him! Even constrained as this version of the World was keeping him, and depleted as he was, Erik had at least hoped those factors would’ve made up for the lack—or at least levelled the playing field!

“Actually, Boss . . .” Scylla said, in something like awe. “The energy readings I’m getting are down almost 82% compared to when it first showed up—between that and the damage we’ve been doing, it’s gotta be running on fumes, if it has anything left in the tank at all.”

“And with no active worshippers on this plane,” Erik mused aloud, “it’s not getting anything back any time soon.”

“Nope!” Scylla replied, in a voice that was equal parts cheerful and vindictive. “Your buddy did what he said he’d do—”

And in that moment, the Norse God remembered why he put up with Krampus. Those secrets he kept were just as often ones the enemy hoped they didn’t know—and his next surprise was probably a means to use them, in a way that would cause them the most pain possible.

“And now,” Erik finished the thought, “we can hurt it, and make it STICK.”

The grin that adorned his face, in that moment, highlighted his resemblance to Mordred—and his kinship to the Fenris Wolf . . .



Author’s Notes:

To quote Kieran for the golem: “I've been imagining that the thing has access to Legend 10 abilities - not full power, but enough to no-sell a lot of what Erik can do. Easy rule - no "Ultimate Attributes" or "The ___"; anything under that is reasonable . . .?”. We agreed on that.

On a different note, guess who got used as a makeshift weapon by big icy and cold? Alas, poor Train-kun.

Yet on another different note, as you might be able to tell, Kieran and I collaborated for this chapter, and the following chapters, having hashed out most of everything that would happen in general..

Zalgo text translations as follows:

As expected of the supernatural servant of one of my descendants, and my own descendant. Quite a fascinating… boat? That you have there. Grandson, perhaps? Or great-grandson?

Truly, a grand show worthy of a descendant of one of my own.

I expected you to be worthy of my title, to take on my own mantle. Instead, I find you on the verge of your own, capable of becoming another like me outright! Congratulations, my descendant, you make your grandfather proud!

[Xamusel]

Uh, guys...? I don't think this will be the end of Ymir.

[Arbitrarity]

Oh so THAT's the reference to "cherry-pick[ing] the best stuff from Glories of the Most High". Essence 10?! No wonder MHXX is so impressed by Godafrid's future self. Between the Willpower cost and Limit gain, I can see why he's limited to using that only briefly.
I probably should have remembered Olga had Sapphire. There were enough hints to work that out.

We're getting to see Mordred using Boosting from the signet ring, I'm guessing. Erik is still mostly trying to play to his strengths, which is probably smart at the moment. Definitely going to be interesting seeing what his version of unleashing hell will look like. Ymir's clearly not dead yet, but that might be enough to make the fight a bit more even. Ymir's reference to Erik being a potential Titan is quite interesting. I'd think gods and Titans are normally different orders of being, so that's... potentially spooky. Since Erik is a full God, I'm not really sure if Scion has anything to say about that, lore-wise... Ymir is the ancestor of all the Norse gods, so that might be relevant.

a giant flat chunk of faintly familiar metal as a makeshift weapon

On a different note, guess who got used as a makeshift weapon by big icy and cold? Alas, poor Train-kun.

Hasn't he suffered enough?!

[Kieran]

Oh so THAT's the reference to "cherry-pick[ing] the best stuff from Glories of the Most High".

Yup.

Essence 10?! No wonder MHXX is so impressed by Godafrid's future self.

Honestly, it's likely that the version she knows isn't nearly that powerful - I'm been thinking that this is Godafrid after a millennium or so . . . Actually, given Nero's theatricality and romanticism, likely closer to two; specifically, the exact length of time between her death and the present day, so that the weight of their combined experience and power extends back through the ages, to the glorious roots of Rome itself . . .!

(. . . Yeah, for all the issues involved with her as a permanent partner, it is SO easy to see how Nero and Frid are compatible . . . )


. . . In any case, MHXX (or just "X," at the time) likely encountered him only a few years later than "now," at most

Between the Willpower cost and Limit gain, I can see why he's limited to using that only briefly.

Yup - but effectively, to knock out that much of Ymir's Legend pool. That always ended up being the hardest (but key) point in any high-level Scion battle; if you could keep them from healing instantly, you'd stand a much better chance.

I probably should have remembered Olga had Sapphire. There were enough hints to work that out.

Possibly - but I'm pleased I could surprise you, nonetheless.

We're getting to see Mordred using Boosting from the signet ring, I'm guessing. Erik is still mostly trying to play to his strengths, which is probably smart at the moment. Definitely going to be interesting seeing what his version of unleashing hell will look like. Ymir's clearly not dead yet, but that might be enough to make the fight a bit more even.

We shall see . . .

Ymir's reference to Erik being a potential Titan is quite interesting. I'd think gods and Titans are normally different orders of being, so that's... potentially spooky. Since Erik is a full God, I'm not really sure if Scion has anything to say about that, lore-wise... Ymir is the ancestor of all the Norse gods, so that might be relevant.

"Titan-corrupted Scions" were a thing in First Edition - Ixion, Scylla's creator, being a prime example. In Second Edition, the lines are even blurrier, because the Titans aren't just massive "destroy/devour/dominate everything that isn't me/my element" entities, either; references are made to the Titanomachy, the empire they ruled before the Gods overthrew them.

What it means in this specific instance, well . . . Again, we shall see.

Hasn't he suffered enough?!

Apparently not - it surprised me, too, though.

[RanmaBushiko]

Uh, guys...? I don't think this will be the end of Ymir.

*chuckles* We're finally towards the end. Did you imagine things would be easy?

Oh so THAT's the reference to "cherry-pick[ing] the best stuff from Glories of the Most High". Essence 10?! No wonder MHXX is so impressed by Godafrid's future self. Between the Willpower cost and Limit gain, I can see why he's limited to using that only briefly.
I probably should have remembered Olga had Sapphire. There were enough hints to work that out.

Yup. It's an impressive skill, and I'll agree. That's kind of bullshit right there.

We're getting to see Mordred using Boosting from the signet ring, I'm guessing. Erik is still mostly trying to play to his strengths, which is probably smart at the moment. Definitely going to be interesting seeing what his version of unleashing hell will look like. Ymir's clearly not dead yet, but that might be enough to make the fight a bit more even. Ymir's reference to Erik being a potential Titan is quite interesting. I'd think gods and Titans are normally different orders of being, so that's... potentially spooky. Since Erik is a full God, I'm not really sure if Scion has anything to say about that, lore-wise... Ymir is the ancestor of all the Norse gods, so that might be relevant.

Mordred's instincts are top notch, and very much helping. Erik, on the other hand, doesn't have her bullshit instincts, so he's definitely, definitely playing it safe-ish. Unfortunately, that reality marble is making it hard for him to actually finish Ymir off. Kieran covered the bulk of the whole "Titan and God" bit from Scion pretty well for the issues there, too.

However, Erik's descended from that one single asshole of a god that has the winter purview. Not much is known about him, either, since Uller is one of those "Supposedly important deities, but are nearly never referenced." situations. You'd think we'd get to know more about someone that takes over for Odin when Odin's off to do adventuring or whatever! But nope! Not very much is nailed down about him or his legend, except that he's the only one that can control snow and ice.

The same snow and ice that Ymir was said to be able to control, if not quite the same scale. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Hasn't he suffered enough?!

Unfortunately for Train-kun, he was there and a convenient legend-radiating make-shift impromptu weapon.

Honestly, it's likely that the version she knows isn't nearly that powerful - I'm been thinking that this is Godafrid after a millennium or so . . . Actually, given Nero's theatricality and romanticism, likely closer to two; specifically, the exact length of time between her death and the present day, so that the weight of their combined experience and power extends back through the ages, to the glorious roots of Rome itself . . .!

(. . . Yeah, for all the issues involved with her as a permanent partner, it is SO easy to see how Nero and Frid are compatible . . . )

And why I'd enjoy seeing them as permanent partners, just as much as the other options...

. . . In any case, MHXX (or just "X," at the time) likely encountered him only a few years later than "now," at most

Which should make things terribly, horribly entertaining for everyone reading it...

Yup - but effectively, to knock out that much of Ymir's Legend pool. That always ended up being the hardest (but key) point in any high-level Scion battle; if you could keep them from healing instantly, you'd stand a much better chance.

Yup. If you can get that one good shot in that can snap them out of whatever bullshit they're using? It's wonderful to use.

Possibly - but I'm pleased I could surprise you, nonetheless.

And it's entertaining for me when people forget the nice things characters have, only for it to jump into their faces again.

We shall see . . .

Ayup.

"Titan-corrupted Scions" were a thing in First Edition - Ixion, Scylla's creator, being a prime example. In Second Edition, the lines are even blurrier, because the Titans aren't just massive "destroy/devour/dominate everything that isn't me/my element" entities, either; references are made to the Titanomachy, the empire they ruled before the Gods overthrew them.

What it means in this specific instance, well . . . Again, we shall see.

Indeed. Scion 2e makes things rather... interesting. Now if it didn't look like a horrible trainwreck to play and maybe they finished adding demigods and gods like they could have already... things might be better for us.

Apparently not - it surprised me, too, though.

There's reasons for it.

[Kieran]

Uh, guys...? I don't think this will be the end of Ymir.

Whyever would you think THAT . . .?

Yup. It's an impressive skill, and I'll agree. That's kind of bullshit right there.

People kept telling me that high-level Exalts could take Scions; I didn't quite believe it, but a Knack like that certainly implies that they could smack at least a low-end God around . . . And that's discounting a Solar's "Perfect Defence/Dodge" trick.

However, Erik's descended from that one single asshole of a god that has the winter purview. Not much is known about him, either, since Uller is one of those "Supposedly important deities, but are nearly never referenced." situations. You'd think we'd get to know more about someone that takes over for Odin when Odin's off to do adventuring or whatever! But nope! Not very much is nailed down about him or his legend, except that he's the only one that can control snow and ice.

The same snow and ice that Ymir was said to be able to control, if not quite the same scale. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

What mythology I was able to track down states that Uller is Sif's son, but not Thor's; no mention of his father . . .

And why I'd enjoy seeing them as permanent partners, just as much as the other options...

Which is part of what makes it difficult . . . *Sighs*

Yup. If you can get that one good shot in that can snap them out of whatever bullshit they're using? It's wonderful to use.

But hard to pull off, at times.

Indeed. Scion 2e makes things rather... interesting. Now if it didn't look like a horrible trainwreck to play and maybe they finished adding demigods and gods like they could have already... things might be better for us.

I'm still waiting on the damned Terra Incognita book that was supposed to include Camelot . . . The potential to mix that with Fate was half the reason I was interested in this incarnation of the system, damn it!

[Xamusel]

Kieran, you forgot to close the bracket properly... just a heads up.

[Kieran]

Fixed - thank you!

[Arbitrarity]

Honestly, it's likely that the version she knows isn't nearly that powerful - I'm been thinking that this is Godafrid after a millennium or so . . .

. . . In any case, MHXX (or just "X," at the time) likely encountered him only a few years later than "now," at most

That does generally make sense. Essence 6 is normally considered crazy, the "players don't get to this point" tier. Emperor Ox Expansion alone, or Devastating Ogre Enhancement, would have been impressive. Essence 10 is like... yeah, 2-3 millenia of running the world behind the scenes might get you there, or some sort of very strange alternate timeline. The Kaleidoscope is a good justification, but it's scary that's even a possibility. I would almost expect to see an Anima Banner as well, but it seems like shapeshifting doesn't actually require many motes.

"Titan-corrupted Scions" were a thing in First Edition - Ixion, Scylla's creator, being a prime example. In Second Edition, the lines are even blurrier, because the Titans aren't just massive "destroy/devour/dominate everything that isn't me/my element" entities, either; references are made to the Titanomachy, the empire they ruled before the Gods overthrew them.

I'm just not sure that "Titan-corrupted Scion" and "potential Titan" are the same thing. It's like the difference between Abyssal Exalted and Neverborn. I suppose Erik is a few orders of magnitude more powerful than your average Titan-corrupted Scion though.

The same snow and ice that Ymir was said to be able to control, if not quite the same scale. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Well, you did mention potentially interesting effects from Uller's Bloodline, for example.

And considering Uller is right now the equivalent of Shrödinger's Cat, a situation of Shrödinger's God... it would have made things interesting, if you'd gone that route. Don't you agree?

The idea of "becoming the new Ymir" has been mentioned a few times, mostly by Gaia in the prologue, so it's not terribly surprising, I guess.

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 75: Ice against Fire (With radioactive weaponry and plasma thrown into the mix!)


4:14 AM
The Wolfen
Main Bridge

Mash pants, as she finally reaches the bridge. “Sorry for being so late, Olga needed help. That’s not the important part, though! Scylla, we’re in a-”

“It’s alright.” Tamamo interrupts Mash, quietly. “With Godafrid’s help, we’re going to be okay.”

“No, you have to listen!” Mash interrupts Tamamo, loudly. “We’re in what appears to be a dimensional shift that’s forming somehow! Something’s cutting us off from reality outside!”

Tamamo goes bone white as she hears Mash. Scylla’s head jerks towards Mash, eyes wide. “Can you give us details?” Scylla asks, carefully.

“It isn’t the same as a singularity, at least. That much I can tell. I’m trying to figure out what we’re in precisely, still, but it looks to be something dimensional. However, I can say this much! That fog barrier outside?! It’s the same barrier I’ve seen with every singularity I’ve fought in! We’re locked in here with that thing!” Mash half yells.

“Someone’s trying to get rid of us all in one single sweep, aren’t they? Maybe to that ‘other side of the world’ place?” Scylla growls. “Damn.” Then the bridge turns to spot the form of Godafrid falling.

“Godafrid?!” Fiore yelps in terror. “You have to save him!”





4:15 AM
Valkyrie Prototype





Mordred snarls, pushing her Valkyrie to its limits, as she pushes it back into the jet mode. Below, Godafrid falls in mid-air, the shock to his body from the sudden shift back leaving him motionless in the air as he falls.

Rapidly, she pushes the mech to its limits, twisting to catch Godafrid’s falling figure. It’s a moment’s work with her Riding skill enhancing her just enough to pop open the cockpit and brake for Godafrid to land in her lap. Then she’s pushing the jet faster again, as she glances over.

The golem’s face is far too close, glaring with rage, as it swings with a massive ice sword, trying to cleave her mech, and Godafrid, in half.

A moment’s dodge, and she’s rolling and weaving, desperately avoiding strikes as the far too large golem takes personal attention in trying to swat her out of the sky…!

In the distance, a loud roar like thunder echoes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfeqsw8MMA0 (Mechagodzilla’s Theme: Ultimate Destroyer Suite)

Ymir’s head snaps up, turning to stare at the roar in the distance. Fog is the only thing he sees.

Mordred pulls up, out of the massive titanic golem’s reach, breathing out as she does so. “I’m getting ready to dock, Erik. The Radiant Wave Surger is out of fuel.” She sends, focusing.

“Roger. I’ve got a little special something planned for him.” Erik’s voice returns.

Ymir growls, as ice armor flows around him, then goes wide eyed at a beam of light carving through his ice like a hot knife through butter, emerging from the fog.

Another roar from the distance erupts, before the fog warps, pressure from the other side pushing through. A primal scream of utter rage from the other side of the fog greets everyone on the battlefield.

“What the hell is that?” Scylla asks from the bridge.

Tamamo pauses, then smiles widely. “I believe we’d call it backup!” Then she turns to Mash, pointedly. “It looks like we aren’t locked in this situation, at least. More something’s cutting us from the outside world.”

Another laser carves through the fog like a hot knife through butter, before Mecha Fafnir Mark 3 punches through the fog wall, roaring in utter rage as it moves in to help it’s father.

Ymir turns, eyes narrowing as he studies this new threat. Then the massive golem body rushes to fight the mechanical dragon before it, the fog visibly freezing over as the golem gets close.

Fire greets Ymir, as magically created ice is introduced to Mecha Fafnir’s flamethrowers en-masse, roasting it faster than it can form, driving the massive golem back.

Rockets launch from the wings and tail, as Mecha Fafnir moves in to roast Ymir better with his flamethrowers, the sheer range of the ones on his belly and jaw working to melt the ice away at a rapid pace.

Wide eyed, Ymir backs up faster, taking blow after blow as he does so. His regeneration is fast, yes. But the damage is still taking its toll on the massive golem body. Slowly, chips and chunks start tearing off from the sheer output of firepower.

Ymir frowns, growling, then smashes Mecha Fafnir back with a giant ice hammer, sending it rolling backwards to try to take less damage from the blow. Then it shakes its head, before sending another laser at Ymir, carving through the ice hammer like a hot knife through butter. More than that, the laser carves into Ymir’s arm a bit.



Erik smiles, and opens fire with the Plasma cannon once more, taking advantage of the damage to Ymir. The smile grows wider as it scores a direct hit, before he frowns at the slowly healing hole. “Damn. Even with the damage, we’re just not doing enough, are we?”

Erik pauses, thinking, then cuts the communications with the bridge. “Illyasviel, if you’re able to talk while I’m in here, I’d like to run something by you.”

A barrage of missiles from the Wolfen strikes at Ymir, as Erik fires the now cooled down barrels once more, swarm after swarm of them leaving Ymir desperately trying to dodge the area of effect attacks.

A frown covers Erik’s face, as he spots the issue. A shadow of speed there that wasn’t there before, in the Golem’s movements. “Damn. Untouchable opponent, huh? Well, I know that if you do enough damage, someone can be punched out of it…”

“I’m here, though busy. Your little apocalypse has come at a bad time, after all.” Illyasviel announces from nearby.

Erik moves, one hand grabbing some disks, before glancing over. “Mind opening a door?”

“It won’t be a problem. Why?” Illasviel asks carefully.

“I’ve got those games you need, and something I’d like to test.” Erik retorts.

A door opens, and Erik glances through, seeing Illyasviel von Einzbern on the other side. Then with one smooth motion, he tosses both a pack of CDs through, as well as his goggles. “Those games I promised, and help for your side of things. Get those goggles onto Shiki Tohno, and have him try to weaken whatever makes Arcueid weak, using them. I dubbed them Mystic Goggles of Weakness Detection for a reason, and with his utter bullshit, it should let him kill, or damage how weak she is from her bloodlust. Get them back to me when you’re done, okay? That scythe chip might weaken the side effects for me, but I’m not sure how long it’ll work out for him before his eyes might have issues as a result.”

Wide eyed shock greets him, as Illyasviel von Einzbern (or is it Emiya, Erik briefly wonders?) stares at the precious cargo in front of her, before nodding rapidly to Erik’s words.

Then she moves, rushing off as the door rapidly fades.

Erik breathes out, then smirks, firing the Plasma cannon once more at Ymir, as he restores communications to the bridge.

“Boss, we’ve got a problem. His legend is regenerating from whatever that field is around him.” Scylla’s voice greets Erik. Erik’s eyes narrow for a long moment, before he quietly nods.

“We’re switching to the next plan, then. Mecha Fafnir Mark 3, fly up if you can!” Erik orders.

The titanic mechanical dragon pauses in the fight, before launching itself up, pushing itself for speed over anything else. Moments later, it’s tail wraps around the front of the Wolfen, giving it enough purchase to grab onto the bottom.

“Scylla, are there any reports from the laser cannon in orbit?” Erik asks, carefully.

“Nothing. That fog is interrupting everything, boss. I’m really, really not liking the side effects from our perspective.” Scylla answers after a few moments.

Ymir smiles up at the Wolfen before speaking up. “A wonderful surprise, my descendant. I presume you’re one of Uller’s line, hmm? One beautiful hunting beast, if with metal, rather than flesh.”

Erik pauses, eyes narrowing at the clarity of Ymir’s voice now, rather than the eldritch sounds added to it before.

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment, for my war beasts that I make.” Erik finally broadcasts. “Though how on earth you know I’m of Uller’s lineage…”

Ymir outright laughs at the Wolfen, directly at Erik’s location. “Do you really think I cannot tell when family is near?” The retort leaves Erik frowning. “Though it’s good to get confirmation that you truly are family, Grandson. Tell me, have you ever developed skills the other gods did not have?”

Erik stills for one long moment, before pushing the Wolfen to slowly move upwards. The plasma cannon never stops aiming towards the golem below.

“Boss! We’ve got too many holes in the Wolfen to survive going too high! Be careful!” Scylla’s voice echoes over the ship’s intercoms… and through Erik’s own tap into the outer speakers, as well.

Ymir smiles more. “Come now. Give me those beings that radiate legend that are on board like the one that faced me earlier, grandson, those 4 gnats that radiated power, and the one that fought me in your flying metal boat. Then I’ll teach you how to ascend to become a proper Titan of machines. I’ll even let you keep the one linked to you!”

Erik’s eyes narrow to slits, fists clenched tight around the controls of his hoverpod, even as his teeth grit with rage. For a moment, he feels a tooth crack, before the warmth of his armor flows through him, leaving him shivering as he sits.

“All the titans I know have been heartless monsters that don’t care about family except as weapons to be used.” Erik retorts. “I’ve fought long and hard to survive and escape that bullshit. Why the hell would I want to be an emotionless monster here and now,that can’t even love his family? His wife? His slowly developing pantheon?!”

Ymir smiles. “Come now.” The massive golem reaches up a hand, up towards Erik. “If you love machines, you’ll join me. Become a world of machines, where you can keep all you love safe within it. That boat, that Wolfen of yours could be the basis of your new body!”

Erik snarls more like a wolf than a man, as his Wolfen pushes higher. “I think I’m going to enjoy breaking you with this...”

Moments later, he cuts the sound to the outside, silently. “Scylla, store oxygen in the places where we need it. Have the Legion of Coal do emergency repairs to the hull to seal the ship airtight.”

“Got it boss. We’ve got only one of the air purification systems online, though. It won’t last for more than 30 minutes at this rate, not with how many holes we had punched through us.” Scylla admits, quietly.

“Send it to my Wolf Wing when we’re ready.” Erik watches the view screens carefully, eyes narrowed. Then, after a moment, he nods before cutting communications.

“Damn it. It’s like fighting an Eldritch Kaiju…” Erik mutters for a moment, then glances over at the reappearing doorway.

“No luck. Akiha pointed out how dangerous it could be to Shiki and isn’t budging.” Illyasviel sighs at Erik, before he nods back at her.

“Bring her in, since we’ve got a lull in the fighting, I’ll give it my best shot personally the moment I can. I was hoping Shiki could work with them or try, so his eyes would catch what my goggles might not… but I suppose I’ll just have to do it myself. Have your side hold back for a bit if you’re going to be entering the fray, or at least go from range. I’m not quite out of tricks yet…” Erik catches his goggles as Illyasviel tosses them back.

“Shiki was rather... intrigued after seeing that piece of scythe you’ve attached to them, though.” Illyasviel half states, half inquires carefully.

“Castlevania would be an utter breeze for him, up until he ran into the version of Death that works for Dracula.” Erik admits. “I’m not sure if his mystic eyes would be empowered by Death’s scythe, or not work at all, but considering this seems to be a tiny chip of it, and the only thing that makes it so I can use them long term? I’d be careful in dealing with that place.”

Illyasviel nods, as Erik slips the goggles on under his helmet, before breathing out. Moments later, Erik nods to the woman going through. “Grab onto the crash bars to my right, Lady Arcueid, and take one of the seats, if you don’t mind?”

Gently, Erik takes her hand once she’s seated, and kisses the back of her hand. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lady Arcueid. I’m a big fan of yourself.”

Arcueid sits, curiously studying the screens with an interested look.

Moments later, Erik turns to look at a screen, a brightly flashing message showing that leaves him smiling quietly. “Perfect.” Erik smiles, as his eyes glance over to the cameras below, Erik can see Ymir moving to the Hanging Gardens, before tossing up and down a piece of stone carefully, weighing it’s measurements.

For a moment, Erik just thinks, quietly. Moments later, he looks up, before tapping out a reply. “Ragnarok procedures if Ymir survives this.” Then he breathes out, speaking up aloud to his armor and his cosmoreactor, knowing Scylla will prepare the measures in case his current plan fails.

“I know I’m not perfect. I know I might be judged harshly for this. I know I go for overkill all the damned time, too. But please, can you help me save them? Save everyone?” Erik goes quiet, thinking, before quietly admitting the truth. “I’m in a bad spot. For all my firepower, I can’t hurt the bastard, not without help. But the more heroic I am, the more you react, my new Cosmoreactor. As for you, my new armor, I know you. I know you’re capable of amplifying somehow. I built you, forged you. So please. PLEASE… help me win and be the hero Mordred and everyone else that’s counting on me needs me to be. I can’t save them without your help.”

For a moment, he closes his eyes, fists quietly clenched. Then fluid warmth erupts from his armor right as the Prototype Cosmoreactor flares with power.

Repeated waves of warmth flow through him, as he aims the ship at Ymir, his hoverpod taking over the ship’s controls. To aim is second nature for him. He was a hunter. He knows how to aim properly. To take control.

Warmth flows through him, as Erik shivers, feeling, for a single, glorious moment, closer to the God he once was.

The communications go back on. “All hands, brace for impact.” He orders, then fires up the outward speakers.

“GET A LOAD OF THIS!” Erik snarls at the golem acting as if he’s Ymir reborn.

Then, as Ymir turns to look at the Wolfen, the railgun fires.

Ymir’s eyes widen impossibly fast, as he moves to counter Erik desperately. Ice flows, as time moves impossibly fast around Ymir’s hand, a wall of ice pushing outwards, desperately trying to stop whatever new attack Erik has launched.

For a moment, Erik can feel Ymir almost try to touch and influence time itself only to fail. Then he grins as the nuclear explosion kicks off, sending the Wolfen slamming up and through the fog barrier surrounding the battlefield. Then, moments later, the fog barrier shatters outright, the might of the explosion hitting it and breaking it utterly as the divinely created nuclear weapon explodes.

“So, he was limited to cold alone.” Erik grins with utter glee as he looks at the explosion. “Or, more likely, his weapon was only to amplify cold, and not any other purviews he had. I wonder how he liked the nuclear round I made that could get past things like time purviews being used to counter them?”

For a long moment, Erik sighs, before glancing over to Arcueid Brunestud. “Hopefully that’s done the job. One divinely crafted nuclear weapon, cloaked and altered to counteract temporal effects, and to spread the damage evenly over the entire explosion.” Erik sighs, then moves off his chair, leaning to study her. “Now to help you out. Mind pulling your sweater off so I can see your skin? I promise to not leer or anything.”

For long moments, Erik uses his goggles, studying her carefully as the obsidian lenses slightly glow, while doing his best to ignore Arcueid’s fingers looking more like claws while watching him. As he studies Arcueid, he speaks up. “I’ve always been a fan of you and the others. Learning that you were in the organization made me want to meet you more.”

Arcueid blinks, then smiles. “A fan? Also, keep in mind that if you hurt me with this, I’ll repay your betrayal with pain.”

Erik nods, as he continues. “A lost, lonely child, knowing battle and war, but not nearly enough friendship. A mentor figure, helping you figure certain things out, certainly, but no one you trusted until you met a friend that you fell in love with.” Erik admits. “It wasn’t quite the same for me, but Fenris pretty much was my father at first, and until I met my wife, I had a hard time connecting with people.”

Arcueid thinks things over, before slowly nodding. “So you empathized with my character, at least?”

“Indeed.” Erik admits, quietly. Being too powerful is something I do quite well understand, as well as how lonely that life can be.” For a long moment, Erik trails off, carefully studying her, and looking over her carefully.

“May I ask why it’s taking so long?” Arcueid eventually asks, thinking.

“My goggles are what I’ve dubbed ‘Mystic Goggles of Weakness Perception’, loosely speaking. Unlike Shiki’s, I don’t see the lines of death, but of weakness. And without the little scythe chunk, I’d be screaming and clutching at my head from a horrible migraine right about now.” Erik admits, quietly. “I’d hoped that Shiki could use my goggles to cure your issues with bloodlust permanently, but without these augmenting his eyes, I’m not sure my goggles are a complete fix to your issues. I’m also not sure if he’ll ever be able to learn to turn them off, so you might want to check with Illyasviel on if it’s possible later.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Arcueid finally asks, quietly.

“When I look at you, I see a woman who loves life. But also someone who desperately needs more friends. And after all is said and done, I’d be honored if I could be one of yours, Arcueid Brunestud.” Erik finally admits, quietly, his eyes lowering closer to the center of her body. A frown covers his face as he looks over the spot where the visual novel had her using duct tape to hold herself together, and the slight lines of weakness from there.

Then, at her navel, he spots it, and he pulls himself lower to look. “There’s the issue. It wasn’t in your brain, or up in your upper body like I thought it would be, for the weakness that you have to suppress so very badly. Add in the extra chakras you have beyond a normal human or a deity of the style I’m familiar with, and it took a while to track it down.” Erik trails off, focusing.

Even with his goggles, he can barely see it. The cylindrical shapes rotating around a round spiritual ball of sorts.

For a moment, he turns, pulling up data in the computers on what he’s looking at. “The Hara chakra, huh? Yours has what looks like cylinders, batteries or other chakras of some sort, rotating around it, all full of a red substance.”

Arcueid blinks, quietly. “I have one of those? I’d heard someone mention it a long time ago in passing, I’ll admit, when I went through what was it called? Tibet?”

Erik nods. “My wife insists that they act as some sort of spiritual flow for energy in the body, and it looks like you have several cylinders around yours that store extra power, ones full of red tainted energy. I might be able to fix this, but you’re going to have to trust me, and hold still.”

Arcueid nods, smiling. “Thank you for helping me this much. I think being friends would be nice!”

Erik smiles, then forms a knife in his hand, as he focuses hard. On the red spiritual currents in those cylindrical shapes far within her.

For the weakness in the red taint.

If it wasn’t for his power armor, he wouldn’t have seen the hint to handling Arcueid’s issue.

With the sight, Erik moves, Frozen Panoply giving him the ice needle he needs.

One jab, carving through the blood tainted energy to a nearly impossible to spot source. Another jab, to a second container.

A third jab, right to the third container and at the third source, before he spots Arcueid’s eyes going wide. Erik turns, glancing in shock.

The sight of a chunk of the Hanging Gardens flying at them leaves him wide eyed in shock, trying to move back to the controls.

It’s not fast enough, as the Wolfen lurches, massive damage reports showing over his screens.

“Oh, fuck.” Erik breathes. “How the fuck did he survive that?!” Moments later, Erik glances over at Arcueid and the ice needle, before he focuses. Eyes looking over her.

He’d barely missed the third container. Shit. “Later, I’ll get the rest later. That should be about 2/5ths of your full strength right there, though. Stay quiet while I’m in contact with the bridge, okay?”

Arcueid’s quiet nod is his only reply.

Moments later, he’s taking off his armor, turning on the communications with the bridge again.

“Heavy damage, boss! We just lost the antigravity, and we’re coming down hard!” Scylla’s voice is the first thing Erik hears.

“Do we have time for the Ragnarok contingencies to work?!” Erik shouts back, desperately.

“...Roger. I’ll proceed to evacuate everyone, boss.” Scylla retorts.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS9oFjoD9pw (Unlimited Blade Works ~ This Illusion Instrumental)

“Anyone that wants to come with us can go to the Millennium Falcon copy. Anyone that doesn’t can get a ride from one of the remaining mechs.” Erik retorts, as his armor falls off, Erik hitting quick eject buttons to remove it. Then he breathes out slowly.

“I need to be the hero they need. So please, my reactor…” Erik quietly whispers, then shivers at the reactor spinning up again. “I need to stay conscious for this.”

“Boss, you’re crazy! You always pass out from that system when you’ve tried it in the past! Controlling the Wolfen with your piloting suit is too much for you!” Scylla shouts over the intercom.

“Trust my husband to have a plan, Scylla.” Tamamo retorts, quietly.

“Yes, boss lady. You’d better not get us all killed, boss!” Scylla snarls, before his voice goes quiet. “T-Minus 35 seconds before impact. 30 seconds before Ragnarok Contingencies are finished. I’ll evacuate everyone, you can count on me there.”

The Wolfen falls, Erik tapping on the thrusters to work it into a controlled fall. Then Erik breathes out, slowly forcing himself back. To relax, and trust in the Cosmoreactor, prototype or not.

Then he forces his suit to link to the Wolf Wing, and through that, the Wolfen.

Dimly, he can hear the Legion of Coal working, cutting through important sections of armor to force the systems to work. Systems cut in half, sections separated by force.

Faintly, he knows that the Wolfen wasn’t built to handle this system. That it’ll break from what Erik’s going to put it through, not with repairing pretty much everything and building huge sections from scratch. But it’s all overshadowed by the massive amount of pain he feels, as his mind and body tries to sync with reactors far more powerful than he is. The heartbeat of the damaged Wolfen.

Warmth from his reactor floods him, as he desperately focuses, trying to force himself past it. For a single moment, Erik’s mind has the conscious thought “It’s like trying to walk through a wind made of steel…”, before he focuses on what he CAN feel.

The warmth of his wife, and his love for her, faintly glowing. Dimmed, but still there. The bright glow of her love for him.

The glowing aura of Scylla, now revealed to him, as he carries everyone to relative safety. The weight of his trust.

The overwhelming potency of Fenris, the father he wished he’d had instead. Love, warmth. Trust and affection. Might and weight.

The faint aura of Arcueid Brunestud disappearing through a door in midair. Hopefully she’d be safe.

The strength of his Servant, Mordred. Kind, caring, brash, but wanting to be cared for, and loved.

The beating hearts of those that follow him.

The Wolfen itself, and the love of his creations?

The sheer might of the damaged giant below, weakened but not yet dead.

For one moment, Erik almost falters.

He finally understands the gap. He finally comprehends how bad he could be outclassed. The pain doubles, then triples, as his mind forces itself against the painful wind he feels.

If he was alone… but he’s not alone, is he?

Erik snarls, as he tightens his grip around the controls subconsciously, not even noticing through the pain he’s in.

He’s not alone. He has his friends. He has his Servant. He has those that believe in him, and trust him. He has allies. He has allies, ones that will help him…! He doesn’t need to be paranoid! He doesn’t need to be scared and alone, wondering if today is the day his old pantheon, or his father will murder him!

Warmth floods him, not from the reactor, but from the Wolfen itself. A faint feeling of a query, if he was alright.

For one moment, he feels the Wolfen perfectly. Then as he breathes in, he realizes he still feels his ship. “Help me kill this bastard, before he can kill everyone on the planet. If I can’t link with you, here and now, we’re all dead...” A quiet whisper. A smile, and a nod, as the pain fades away slowly. Replaced by warmth. Not just from his ship, but from all the things he built on her. His developing Pantheon. Mordred, if more faintly.

Then Erik’s eyes snap open, glowing with divine power, as he twists the Wolfen, rolling it. Dimly, he can feel the roll move something from the hull directly into the ship and landing on wheels somewhere in the hangar bay. Moments later, he can feel it wake up confused. Faintly, he can feel Mecha Fafnir MK3 fly off, batting its mechanical wings to slow down it’s fall.

He can feel his wife safe. The bulk of everyone, strapped in in that Millennium Falcon copy.

The love for him that his machines have.

Then his eyes focus on his target before him, as he glances at the clock. 5 seconds left?

Plenty of time.

A flick of a button sends the massive top deck hull off, as the front of the Wolfen splits into two legs, the front curves of the bow turning into massive feet.

Two arms slam out from the back, as the top engines move to the back, readjusting themselves to work as thrusters, the bridge of the massive ship turning into a massive head like structure.

The spinal railgun slides out, before one arm grabs it, the other grabbing the top hull deck, converted into a shield.

Thrusters fire, as he instinctively pushes it into a crouching landing. Thousands of spikes, sword tine like pieces, slam out of the heels, as the Wolfen digs in.

Erik glances up, smirking, then pushes his mech towards the foe before him.

Ymir smiles outright, looking downright giddy at the sight of the Wolfen turning into a war machine, even as his form shifts and changes, ice blue armor and eyes showing, as well as his mouth being more humanoid.

“Even now, you pull out new tricks, Grandson! Beautifully done!” Ymir’s grin widens, showing teeth as a new sword of ice forms in his hand. “Between that and the explosion you hit me with, destroying this Golem’s ability to make the world more cold by changing its very nature?! WELL DONE!”

Erik glances at the Railgun and plasma cannon, now separate from the Wolfen, and the ammunition belt of explosive rounds linking the Wolfen to the railgun, before glaring at Ymir.

“And now it’s time to end you. Pity you didn’t die when you should have with that nuke.” Erik retorts.

Ymir’s grin turns into one showing teeth. “No backup except for those four legend emitting gnats that ran from me, barring yours. No spare nukes, otherwise you would have fired a second one.” Ymir pauses, then the grin on his golem body’s face widens inhumanly. “And whatever you’re doing, you’re damaging your boat. What a pity, that. It looks like we’re on a time limit before it’s gone, hmm? I’ll just have to rectify that, after I’ve broken what little resistance you have left. Don’t worry, grandson. I won’t make it hurt too much.”

“Is this a two person fight, or can anyone join in?” Arcueid walks out of a doorway, courtesy of Illyasviel, her hair now down past her waist. Arcueid Brunestud smiles as her clothes shift and change around her. “Because I heard there was world ending fights around here, and I thought I may as well intervene!”




Elsewhere, moments before...




Gaia hums, as she works, her true body for once active as she stretches out. “My oh my. A fake that would steal my throne, and that irritating little pissant of a god, all in one spot to be ejected to the Other Side of the World before they can change much more. How wonderful. This has to be one of my best successes yet. Now all I have to do is eject them properly, when the barrier is fully formed with my power, and then perhaps I can go on to deal with that irritating Alaya that keeps interrupting my plans for humani-”

Pain interrupts her. Agonizing, horrible pain.

For one long moment, as Gaia screams in agony, her true form feeling pain and agony for the first time since the Greek pantheon had hurt her.

Then she shudders, slowly pulling herself up off the floor.

The reality barriers that had taken so much of her power to make in order to deal with the interlopers? Gone. The fake that could possibly steal her throne as the avatar of the planet? Damaged.

That pissant god that had dared hurt her? Still facing off with the fake Titan. And another interloper?

Slowly, Gaia adjusts herself, trying to focus. But with all the agony she feels, nothing works.

“Well, shit. At least it can’t get any worse?” Gaia winces as she tries to focus.

Author’s Notes:

This chapter fought me tooth and nail to rewrite repeatedly (even as the first draft was roughly written the night after I posted the LAST one due to inspiration coming to me, almost mad scientist style...), mostly over plans we’d worked out from the very beginning, versus exactly how to implement said plans when the time came.

Shiki getting his hands on Erik’s goggles around this point? Definitely in the plans. Kieran pointing out that there’s no way in hell that Akiha would let her brother use them without months of testing they might not have, on the other hand, left us with a lot of working out how to ensure things could work out.


So, rather than the long term bloodlust issue being permanently dealt with, it’s simply been weakened. Leaving Arcueid somewhat stronger than she was at the beginning of Tsukihime, but still not at full power for now.

[Xamusel]

Well... this just means that all Hell is about to break loose for Gaia. Why didn't we notice that she was a Titan in this rendition of the universe?

*ahem*​ Anyway, why do I get the feeling that Gaia's just jinxed herself, and in such a deliciously cruel way?

[Arbitrarity]

Interesting. We don't normally see Gaia anthropomorphized like that, probably because the Will of the Planet is rather insubstantial. Being closer to a Scion Titan fits, of course... And the nuke was what hurt her/broke the fog, okay. I barely noticed that the first time, I was trying to figure out if Arceuid's mere presence was sufficient to do that, which didn't really fit. I guess that rules out the mist being Ravenloft, for now.

Since Gaia is anthropomorphized, I feel like I need to take Primate Murder's title of "Monster of Gaia" more seriously. The Foushadowing has been too heavy to not remember that.

And we finally learn what the Ragnarok contingencies are. Giant mecha, of course. I suddenly regret not choosing Mecha among blood tempering options, though it looks like nuclear paid off a bit. Also cool to see the more abstract spiritual breakthrough/linkage with Erik's machines and pantheon. Since we've heard a bit about the kami of his inventions before, this fits. It makes me wonder if Titans acquire Legend (in the abstract power sense) more from their titanic purviews than worship.

Ymir has a few sentences that I'm having a bit of trouble parsing.

Pedantic grammar nitpicking

Give me those beings that radiate legend that are on board like the one that faced me earlier, grandson. Then I’ll teach you how to ascend to become a proper Titan of machines. I’ll even let you keep the one linked to you!

The subjects in these sentences get confusing. Most notably, "the one linked to you" either refers to "a being that [radiates] legend" or a machine. Given context, I can infer it's probably Mordred or Tamamo, but it could well be talking about Erik's suit, or some other device, and that's how I initially read it.
Also the first sentence runs on a bit. I think the main problem is too many "that", you might be able to rephrase to cut those down.
"Give me those beings aboard your ship radiating legend, like the one that faced me earlier, grandson"

No backup except for those legend emitting gnats that ran from me, barring yours

I have difficulty figuring out what yours refers to here, it's either "legend emitting gnat" or "backup". If gnat, it's probably Mordred, if backup, it makes no sense, because Erik can't back himself up. Contextually, I can work that out, but it's very unclear.

Ymir not using proper nouns definitely seems like it makes his dialogue challenging. I definitely appreciate his distinct tone, and it makes sense that he wouldn't know (or care about) any of those names.

[Xamusel]

Oh, right, one more thing to keep in mind from yours truly. Please upgrade the Mecha options next time, especially should something like this happen again, guys. We need the giant robots doing their thing more often than not!

[RanmaBushiko]

Well... this just means that all Hell is about to break loose for Gaia. Why didn't we notice that she was a Titan in this rendition of the universe?

*ahem*​ Anyway, why do I get the feeling that Gaia's just jinxed herself, and in such a deliciously cruel way?

*Chuckles* Yeah, Gaia just jinxed herself, didn't she?

Interesting. We don't normally see Gaia anthropomorphized like that, probably because the Will of the Planet is rather insubstantial. Being closer to a Scion Titan fits, of course... And the nuke was what hurt her/broke the fog, okay. I barely noticed that the first time, I was trying to figure out if Arceuid's mere presence was sufficient to do that, which didn't really fit. I guess that rules out the mist being Ravenloft, for now.

Since Gaia is anthropomorphized, I feel like I need to take Primate Murder's title of "Monster of Gaia" more seriously. The Foushadowing has been too heavy to not remember that.

And we finally learn what the Ragnarok contingencies are. Giant mecha, of course. I suddenly regret not choosing Mecha among blood tempering options, though it looks like nuclear paid off a bit. Also cool to see the more abstract spiritual breakthrough/linkage with Erik's machines and pantheon. Since we've heard a bit about the kami of his inventions before, this fits. It makes me wonder if Titans acquire Legend (in the abstract power sense) more from their titanic purviews than worship.

Ymir has a few sentences that I'm having a bit of trouble parsing.

Pedantic grammar nitpicking

The subjects in these sentences get confusing. Most notably, "the one linked to you" either refers to "a being that [radiates] legend" or a machine. Given context, I can infer it's probably Mordred or Tamamo, but it could well be talking about Erik's suit, or some other device, and that's how I initially read it.
Also the first sentence runs on a bit. I think the main problem is too many "that", you might be able to rephrase to cut those down.
"Give me those beings aboard your ship radiating legend, like the one that faced me earlier, grandson"


I have difficulty figuring out what yours refers to here, it's either "legend emitting gnat" or "backup". If gnat, it's probably Mordred, if backup, it makes no sense, because Erik can't back himself up. Contextually, I can work that out, but it's very unclear.

Ymir not using proper nouns definitely seems like it makes his dialogue challenging. I definitely appreciate his distinct tone, and it makes sense that he wouldn't know (or care about) any of those names.

Yeah, the whole "Blood Tempering options" gave you some good abilities, but left you without some abilities in other spots. Overall, it's a pretty potent setup, though. The whole spiritual side of things is in fact, interesting. Though it might take a few parses to realize what happened with Train-kun somewhere in all that. As for the quotes, I did manage to alter them to more specify Ymir meant the servants... as in he plans to likely eat them. Or absorb their Legend for himself. Or something similar. He's not quite sure what the best option is yet.

Unfortunately for Erik, he never finished the Ragnarok Contingencies system. The Wolfen wasn't built to be a mech, so it's got all sorts of horrible issues as a result. Add in that Erik is better off piloting the Wolfen without the armor right now, due to a lack of a mecha interface?

Oh, right, one more thing to keep in mind from yours truly. Please upgrade the Mecha options next time, especially should something like this happen again, guys. We need the giant robots doing their thing more often than not!

*Chuckles* Trust me, your choices makes things interesting for the future, for them as a result.

[Kieran]

. . . They First Make Mad Matches For




Café Ahnenerbe
Grail Works Universe
July 5, 2004








The gem arrived on a literal silver platter, alongside his next drink. As it wasn’t one of his, and Zelretch hadn’t ordered one, he shot the bartender a look.

“That’s how the order was placed, and paid to be delivered,” the being that both pretended that it was and wasn’t a cat (and often simultaneously, at that) said flatly. “If you don’t want it, I can always take it back . . .”

Thinking that the possibility of getting caught up in the crazy shenanigans around here—whatever their normal entertainment value—might not be worth the benefit of not having to deal with actual humans (most of the time, at least), the Wizard Marshal waved him off. Then, he put some effort into actually justifying his title as “the Old Man of the Jewels.”

The gem was about thumbnail-sized, hemispherical and polished smooth, and a burgundy so dark in hue that it was nearly black. A basic analysis identified it as a “kiira,” or “lore gem,” as translated from the Elven tongue—which essentially told Zelretch all he needed to know about its origins. The cramped yet oddly delicate handwriting on the napkin underneath it provided instructions regarding its use.

Wondering why the Seldarine would expend so much energy as to send something like the gem here, Zelretch resigned himself to needing to use it in order to find out. Carefully, the Wizard Marshall placed its flattened side against his forehead . . .








Arvandor
The Olympian Glades of Arborea








Hanali Celanil considered. She had managed to persuade Lord Corellon to spare the mortal’s life and aided in the granting of a reward; and the reward was beautiful, in its way. A thing of silver and moonlight, pairing instinct and reason, the ephemera of dreams and the solidity of form, a pure expression of magic and a mercurial nature—and yet . . .

And yet—it did not seem enough, somehow.

Possibly, the goddess admitted, any reward short of entry into the Seldarine’s very ranks would not be enough; much as it stung her pride to admit that a mortal human had accomplished it, surely undertaking actions rightfully suited to a patron deity of the elven races required that such a status be recognised . . .?

It was for wiser heads than hers to consider, Hanali ultimately decided—the realm of Queen Angharradh, which she was not (or at least, not the queen entire). Still, it irked something within the core of her being that, while certainly a puissant gift, and done primarily at her direction, the gift itself seemed to be lacking—and in a way that related to her own domain.

What, the goddess wondered, could possibly be missing about this “Lunar Exaltation?”

It wasn’t beauty—she’d already remarked as such within her own thoughts—and nor was it a lack of (or in its) enchantments; she felt no shame in proclaiming that the powers and potentials contained within the “Exaltation” were artworks on par with the most sublime creations ever wrought. As well they ought to be, really, being a creation of the combined might of the Seldarine . . . And being wrought of silver, and not gold, it had little to do with even her preferred colour, though it did resemble, in part, the crystals she favoured amongst gems.

And still, she remained certain that something of hers was important to this—and missing.

If ‘tis not beauty, nor the arts, then love is the answer, Hanali decided.

It was, after all, her primary epithet: she was the “goddess of love and beauty,” not “beauty and love”—the second was important but followed the first. Therefore, there was an aspect of love to this that she was not seeing . . . But what? Certainly, love had played its part; the mortal’s lifelong adoration of the Moon (and those who embodied it, Sehanine included) had been vital to the shaping and binding of the “Spark of Exaltation.” His heartfelt longing for, and eager acceptance of it, had allowed them much more liberty with the process than they normally would have when working with a human soul.

“Starlight, perhaps . . .?” They were often paired with the Moon in poetry, for obvious reasons, and thus, a natural counterpart to—

“The Sun, actually,” interrupted a voice, drawing Hanali from her thoughts to turn to her utterly surprising (and yet, upon seeing him, inevitably expected) visitor.

“Labelas,” she greeted the elderly God of Time. “'Tis unlike you to nudge events so.”

For his part, the ancient-seeming elf shrugged. “I simply want to keep you out of my hair—there is an ‘Exaltation’ that encompasses the stars, but those who bear it are closer to my purview than any other—and I neither need nor desire to deal with the headaches one of them will cause.”

Declining to elaborate further, he continued, “In any case, as Sehanine could have told you, the ‘Lunar Exaltation’ whose concept we copied is designed as half of a matched pair—a helpmeet to the corresponding ‘Solar Exaltation.’” He paused. “No doubt she could explain further, if she was so inclined . . .”

Hanali sighed. And if the Sun’s essence was required, then she would need to seek out Sehanine, regardless; while the Seldarine as a whole possessed varied powers indeed, and were near-omnipotent in concert, the only one among them who openly wielded those magics held under dominion of the Sun was one of Sehanine Moonbow’s attendants.

“I am outright certain that she will make this whole endeavour needlessly complicated, with her visions and teasing hints . . .” the golden beauty sighed.

Tellingly, the God of Time did not disagree.








When dealing with her mortal charges, Sehanine Moonbow preferred to remain silent, and communicate through visions. It allowed the viewer to reach conclusions on their own, while still benefitting from her guidance nonetheless; it was a method that befit her role as the goddess of the Moon, magic, mystery, dreams and death.

Sadly, she couldn’t get away with using such methods in interactions with her fellow Seldarine—and perhaps particularly these two, being a god of time and an aspect of Queen Angharradh, like herself. How exactly did one obfuscate around one who could know the future, and another who could know your thoughts . . .? So instead, the Lunar Lady was quite blunt.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Wherefore?” Hanali countered. “Should a thing that is by design a duality be forever condemned to lack a half of itself? Should a Moon not have its Sun, to stand in cool contrast to its warming light? Do not mortals—be they elf or human, and especially that one—not deserve to be so warmed, be it by love or sunlight? And if so, then why not both . . .?”

Sehanine would not be drawn into arguments about the necessity of love with the goddess of same. Eilistraee had been known as “The Dark Maiden” not simply because she’d followed her mother into the pantheon of the drow, after all; while Sehanine might rival the virgin huntress Artemis, as Hanali did Aphrodite, the Lunar Lady saw no reason to forsake her heart (or other portions of her body) to do so.

“What was forged for him was only the essence,” Sehanine countered. “Its shape followed the designs we were given, true, but ‘twas ultimately patterned by his own nature, as it cleaved to his soul—we merely affixed it in permanence. What you suggest, however, would require us to build it wholesale; even discounting the fact that we lack such a soul to work so freely upon, how are we to know which pattern would apply . . .?”

Hanali’s response was an unimpressed look, far sterner than her usual expressions. While the words weren’t spoken aloud, her thoughts were plainly writ upon her brow: “We are deities, you know—why couldn’t we?”

Aloud, however, the Winsome Rose merely prompted, “Which pattern . . .? I understand that his gift followed the changeable nature of the Moon, but the Sun is the Sun, is it not?”

“In point of fact,” Labelas said dryly, “the ‘Solars,’ as they are named, count five castes among their number, as opposed to the Lunars’ three.”

“FIVE?!”

“The Dawn Caste are their warriors,” Labelas elaborated. “And not merely warriors, generals—meant to see the battlefield, not simply the sword in front of them.”

“Essentially, the opposite of what he became, right?” Hanali queried. “Opposites attract, and he could likely use the physical to his cerebral; at the same time, opposites can repel just as easily . . .”

“And off the battlefield, it’s the Zenith Caste, the priest-kings dedicated to their sun god, usually lead; it is their solemn duty to inspire those around them with and for the glory of that deity . . .”

Hanali frowned. “We should probably avoid that one—we might catch another pantheon’s attention, if it was an outright priest . . .” She sighed. “Pity, though—it seemed as though he could use someone like that in his life.”

“The Twilight Caste are scholars, artisans, and mages,” Labelas continued. “Magic and craftsmanship are their hallmarks.”

“Which might pair well with him—" she noted.

“Except that he might react badly to dealing with someone who ‘can do everything he can, but literally better than perfectly,’” Sehanine felt compelled to interject. She’d had the most interaction with his soul, after all—and even for a mortal, his ego had been . . . Well, surprisingly large, but surprisingly brittle, all at the same time.

“And moreover,” Labelas added, “those most suited to such a creation would be, in the world he typically deals with, not the sort he would wish to deal with.” He fixed the golden goddess and paraphrased her earlier words.

“’Twould be a poor repayment of his love, and efforts, if ours got him killed; the Lord Coronal’s means would at least have been swift and painless—whereas they are more likely to begin with vivisection . . .”

“. . . Perhaps one of the other two . . .?” Hanali offered weakly.

“The Night Caste are the assassins of their kind,” Labelas said by way of answer. “Though that simplifies things a bit too much. Their mandate is to bring the light into the dark, hidden places; to seek justice wherever those who merit such would hide, and they are the most subtle of their brethren. As with the Twilights, there is perhaps some overlap in what he can do; and yet, there is just as great an opportunity for synergy. After all, they accomplish their efforts through skill, albeit honed to perfection and beyond; as opposed to raw ability amplified to overwhelming extremes.”

“Mm,” Hanali acknowledged the point. “And yet, I wonder: fearful as he is of his own heart, could he bring himself to trust someone who wielded skills like those with it—or would he simply assume it, rightly or wrongly, to be another deception . . .?”

“A problem, indeed,” Labelas agreed—and for herself, Sehanine relished the opportunity to say nothing.

“In any case, the final Caste is bound by the sign of the Eclipse,” the elderly deity expounded. “They are diplomats by nature, with the power to sanctify and enforce oaths given in their presence. Likewise, as part of their ability to understand others, they alone among the Sun’s Chosen may learn powers beyond the scope of their kind—many of the ‘Charms’ the boy makes use of, an Eclipse could learn to use, as well, for example. . .”

“Which brings us back to the issue with the Twilights—overlapping too far with his own abilities,” Sehanine pointed out.

“Not to mention those who qualify as potential ‘others,’” Labelas said grumpily. “Truly, I do not want anyone learning to meddle with time or fate the way an Eclipse possibly could—I don’t need the headache.”

“A pity,” Hanali murmured. “A more social and diplomatic sort would have been a nice counterbalance to his own personality, if nothing else.”

“Perhaps,” Sehanine allowed, “but do we truly want someone capable of reproducing curses or miracles without the sort of restraint or oversight Lord Ao forces on divine magic . . .?”

The three traded glances, considering mortals in general—and this one in particular—and shook their heads in agreement. No matter how well-intentioned, it would not end well, for anyone.

The Winsome Rose scowled, and still managed to make the expression look enticing. “Why is this so hard . . .? It’s what I do—and his own gifts are literally designed to help make it work . . .!”

“Because humans are not elves, even if some might wish to be,” Sehanine said, not unkindly.

“And you are only considering part of the equation,” Labelas added. “After all, this is merely the power you seek to bestow upon a mortal—but what sort of mortal are you looking for . . .?”

Hanali opened her mouth, then stopped. Her head tilted slightly as she considered the question. Finally, she looked up at Sehanine.

“You have that new priestess—”

“Yuna,” Sehanine said sharply, “is vital to the Ssri’Tel’Quessir’s integration into Spira’s society; moreover, it was agreed that doing anything to risk the fiction which allows them to do so was something we could not allow.”

Hanali sighed. “Right—I got caught up in the excitement and forgot.”

“Besides,” the Lunar Lady mused. “I did not think she regarded him in that way.”

“As though that would really be an issue for me,” the golden elf said dryly, giving her fellow goddess an arch look. “And no, not really; but she respected him, which is not a terrible foundation for love, and he felt for her much as he does for us . . . And she was at least a little older and more mature than her cousin—

“Though being more impulsive and passionate, as she is, might . . .?” Hanali trailed off, finally shaking her head. “No, there’s no tie there to manipulate—unless he returns to Spira, or she shows up here, it’d have to wait until our presence is better-established before I could act so directly.”

“Some delightfully unexpected wisdom, from you, Lady Celanil,” Labelas remarked dryly. “You’re normally much more . . . Flighty,” he finished diplomatically.

“I’m taking this situation quite seriously,” Hanali said firmly. “We do owe him, the state of his heart offends me, and the level of bragging rights I’ll get from this . . .”

Sehanine found herself curious. “From whom, precisely?”

Hanali looked a bit startled, but answered, “It’s something of a contest between we love goddesses. If nothing else, I just have to do better than Aphrodite.”

The beauteous countenance dimmed; her features cast in a heart-wrenching relief of sorrow that would make the skies weep for her pain.

“What she did to that poor princess . . .” Hanali sighed.








Café Ahnenerbe
Grail Works Universe
July 5, 2004








“Hmm . . .” the Wizard Marshal mused to himself.

So, the Seldarine’s resident love goddess was feeling frustrated with how things had been left? That could be . . . Well, hilarious if framed in the right circumstances, if he was honest with himself. Still, her proposed method of dealing with the situation was . . . Actually, still hilarious; but also problematic, if things went sideways—which, given who the target was, it almost certainly would.

And Solar Exaltations, according to what he knew, were a lot less subtle than Lunar ones; they were known as “Lawgivers” and “the god-kings of Creation” with good reason. Their patron was the “Unconquered Sun,” which was not hyperbole, and bearing even a fragment of his power was no small thing. The same, admittedly, was true of Luna; particularly in this facet of the Kaleidoscope, the Moon was no minor influence. But the Exaltation his apprentice’s colleague bore was based upon wisdom and malleability, with an eye towards infiltration—he knew how and when to adapt, or outright hide.

Essentially, neither the Clock Tower, the Church, or the (remnants of) the Demon Hunter Organisation should notice him, even outside of Avalon’s protection, unless he was somehow egregiously stupid. And since this facet was skewed ever so slightly towards his apprentice’s side of things rather than his granddaughter’s, what Dead Apostles still existed should also remain unaware of him—at least, those who might care about what he could potentially represent beyond “their next meal.”

(After all, being a “Chosen” of the Moon had a fairly specific connotation in this neck of the woods, cosmically speaking . . .)

In any case, Zelretch was reasonably sure that allowing any type of “Solar Exalt” (whether genuine or ersatz) other than the aforementioned “Night Caste” was a recipe for certain and absolute disaster—and that even one of them was a bad idea . . . And doing a quick “skim”—like flipping through the pages of a book without actually pausing on any of them—more or less confirmed that. Because of the Solar Exaltation’s high standards for excellence even in just a candidate, never mind an actual bearer, they tended to go to people that would inevitably cause problems for his apprentice’s little side venture—never mind the Exaltation’s innate drive to be used.

Admittedly, it was, for example, kind of funny to see the head of Atlas try not to fawn over him, in the case of the “Twilight Exaltation,”—and his granddaughter might be pleased by her boytoy’s suddenly-cured health as a “Night Caste” (as the “bond” between Solar and Lunar Exalts was not always a romantic one) . . . But the odds of more disastrous combinations were far too good, in his opinion, to risk it.

So, Zelretch supposed, he’d better find a solution—whether it was a way to “unfortunately, accidentally” render the Exaltation inoperable (thus negating the need for a matching one) or making sure the kid was happy romantically depended on how much effort it was going to be.

And unfortunately, it was going to end up being an effort, no matter what he finally decided on . . .

Not just because Fiore Forvedge formerly-Yggdmillennia wasn’t actually his fiancée, just playing the role (setting it up had seemed like a worthwhile joke at the time, and possibly avoid exactly the sort of meddling the love goddess was doing); or because she was soon to be Target Number One on the Clock Tower’s hit list. It wasn’t even because of the boy’s social anxieties and psychological issues (though they were legion)—no, it was something far more insidious.

As Rin had noted herself, the facet of the Kaleidoscope that the boy ultimately originated in was “more real than reality,” from their own perspective. This didn’t really grant him superiority in any tangible sense—in fact, if manifested on a purely physical level, he’d likely end up so dense he was crushed by his own weight, or starve because he needed so much greater quantities of the elements that made up his body to maintain it. Even if those two problems could be overcome, somehow, his sense of touch would be practically null, because sensation couldn’t get through the density of his body—and ultimately, he was human, with all the normal limitations that form implied . . .

On a metaphysical level, however, he was a being of more dimensions than they could contemplate—and akin to the creator of the Root. He held no specific authority over their facet, but nevertheless had a lot of the same power to affect them that Rin had to alter a drawing. The weight that held on the more ephemeral concepts, like “fate” or “destiny,” could cause them to bend—in the same way, to continue the former analogy, that a drawing and the paper which held it could distort under the weight of a heavy object being laid atop it.

It was something that most would never notice—and even those familiar with similar things might label it a “protagonist quality,” as it acted similarly—but it made him very difficult to meddle with on an existential level, as reality itself twisted around his presence.

A handy thing, perhaps, for those seeking to change an otherwise-unresolvable situation—being as he was an almost literal incarnation of a “monkey wrench” or “spanner in the works.” And potentially entertaining, for those who had to capacity to observe the shenanigans that occurred around him—like Zelretch, for example—but it made it problematic to scheme against him, even for benevolent purposes.

“Which means that whatever that love goddess comes up with is liable to be even more trouble . . .” he grumbled to himself.

Between this and the “Dark Powers” thing, the Wizard Marshal was seriously tempted to just kill the kid out of hand; sure, Rin-chan would be upset, probably, but she’d never have to know—and the Seldarine would be pissed off, but would have lost their conduit to him . . . The “Dark Powers,” however, were something of a different problem—their reach was less clearly defined, but what he’d been told implied that an act like he was contemplating would draw their attention—to him.

“No, I couldn’t kill him yet, anyway,” Zelretch muttered. “If I did it before he goes to the Servant Universe, it’ll invalidate that facet’s timeline, the Great Holy Grail War facet’s timeline, and probably Rin’s, since I got her involved . . .”

Simply put, if the Exalt went down now, he took three worlds with him.

“Which means back to the more complicated solutions,” he sighed. “Or just hoping the Servant Universe kills him off . . .”

If it didn’t, though, he’d need a backup plan: either a girlfriend who could live with the kid, or a way to lose the Exaltation—so that the Seldarine love goddess lost her excuse to meddle—in a way that didn’t point back to him.

The question was, which one would be less work . . .?

Hm—the kid was big on self-sacrifice, wasn’t he? That was how he’d gotten the thing in the first place. Was there somewhere or something he could point the kid at, where he’d actively choose to give it up . . .?

Preferably while putting him up against some other evil mastermind, so I can enjoy the schadenfreude as everything goes wrong—or at least, weird—around him, the Wizard Marshall thought grumpily.

That sounded like a win-win situation to him . . .

[Xamusel]

Kieran? What the heck did I just read?

[RanmaBushiko]

Kieran? What the heck did I just read?

Kieran's has had a ton of issues with working out a solid, long term partner for his SI character. This is him setting the scene for him to better figure out who will work best without breaking him as an SI or the Grail Works entirely...