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

[Kieran]

Eheheh, poor Archer.

Yeah. I'm occasionally worried I might be going a bit far, and then I remember that he was trying the most stupidly elaborate way to commit suicide possible, while using the only friend he had left to do it - and then my guilt goes away.

I do wonder if he should have Moon Cell memories, since his instances there aren't real Heroic Spirit summons, they're Moon Cell instantiations, but that's probably sufficiently equivalent.

I assume the Throne would keep records of it - if only of the EXTRA playthroughs where he was the protagonist's Servant - so . . . *Shrugs*

Aha, was trying to puzzle out Frid's twitch, it's probably from knowing that MHXX knows him in the future, which she probably doesn't know he's figured out yet.

Yeah - the phrase "non-mutant superpower" is exactly the phrasing Frid would use to describe it (and didn't this time), so if he had any doubts of the proof of his hypothesis, that clinched it.

He's really not looking forward to dealing with an Arturia that essentially has Rikku's personality - dealing with the reverse was bizarre enough.

(She's at an information advantage in some regards, but not many)

Indeed, depending on where and when she "first" ran into him, MHXX potentially has all kinds of information that Frid doesn't have - and she's already hinted at one thing . . .

Also, agggh, why does MHX have EX Presence Concealment.

I don't know. I really don't - especially since she doesn't USE it . . .

. . . Fortunately, Frid at least smacked some of that out of her, apparently.

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 19: Memories and Confrontations, Part 1

Wolfen's Top Deck, 3 PM

I smile, sitting beside Nestor and Olga, as he helps her remember every part of the art of fishing once more. She's apparently quite happy about it, even if the worms are a bit “Icky”, according to her.

“See, Lass? This is why you put the worm on the hook.” He grins at us, then launches the hook out, quickly having a tug of war with a fish. It's quick to pull back a big one, too. I can't quite identify what type it is, but it definitely looks tasty.

Olga cheers, along with Sapphire. It's all quite wonderful. Being on this ship. Meeting all these nice people. Seeing France like I did.

I can't help but close my eyes, then lean back, before giggling softly at Fou's soft feet pouncing at me, and sleeping on my chest.

“Hi there, Fou. Wanting to nap, too?” Smiling, I pet his fur gently, running my fingers through his fur as he curls up and falls asleep against my cleavage. For a moment, I pull my glasses off, and just rub my eyes and face, then smile, closing my eyes as well while leaving my glasses beside me.

“I suppose that's a good idea, one that I'll join in on.” I open one eye at Nestor and Olga, who are moving away, then smile, and nap with Fou.

It's nice and warm here, a perfect day for napping.



One day after another. It's all the same. The same room. The same meetings, through a screen. Never touching people. Never interacting with people.

Then Roman came, and things changed. He interacted with me. He met me in my room. I learned more and more about life.

Fou became a part of my life, too. A constant in my life. One who I loved the company of.

Then Sempai, my Sempai... the man I fell in love with. The man I was dying in the arms of, before the first rayshift.

We knew I wouldn't make it. Not with those injuries. But he held on, even though staying in the room would likely kill him. For me. For the failure who couldn't awaken the heroic spirit within her, for the screwup who continued to fail, for the girl who had a small life expectancy. Me.

I loved him, in that moment. More than life itself. That love kept growing, and growing, and growing, as I experienced life with him. Fuyuki. Orleans. Rome. That Ocean. London. North America. Camelot. Babylon. Then... Solomon. Where I died. Where Fou ressurected me, so I could save Sempai.

All the while, they recorded my Saint Graph. For that, and other incidents, as well.

Then, when the original me couldn't anymore, they used the Saint Graph of me to continue onwards. For Shinjuku, and other incidents.

And then... they couldn't use me anymore, as a Saint Graph. They still backed up my memories of things and events, but they couldn't use me for things like they could before. But they still ensured me, as a copy, would remember everything that happened.

But... I didn't stop getting used. Even after I was long done... somehow, I was still summoned. For versions of Sempai. Male. Female. Sometimes for different events, though I didn't know how, or why. Even for fights I shouldn't have been able to be summoned for.

Goetia, amongst other things. I wasn't sure why, or how, but it happened.

Long after Chaldea should have stopped existing, I was still summoned. Still sent. But as time passed by... I got memories, too. Flashes, of their alternate lives. Where it was a cute female Sempai instead of a male one. Of life where both were different people, even.

I still don't understand it. Not fully. How Olga summoned me, not just as Mash Kyrielight, but her full Saint Graph that had experienced so much. Or why Fou came with, though I have a suspicion I know exactly how and why. He sacrificed himself so I'd be able to live, and most of his power and ability. So I could be with Sempai, and live.

Perhaps it's not that I'm the Saint Graph, but they made me a true Heroic Spirit, and just... ensured I'd remember what I would in life? That I just somehow accessed memories of alternates of myself? Or maybe I was summoned, somehow, through some indecipherable method?

Though, I vaguely remember hearing something, right as I was getting summoned... I still can't remember perfectly what that something was yet.

It's nice and warm here though. People care. I think I can be happy here. And I'll be able to find Sempai, with any luck...

*WHUMP*

I blink, and then slowly open my eyes, before looking wide eyed, up at someone that landed on the deck. Wait... I know who that is. I pull my glasses on, quickly, and pull my hair out of my eyes, as I pull myself up to look closer.

“MYSTERIOUS HEROINE XX?!”

The fully-armoured figure is familiar, even if the panting human male being set on the ground beside her is not. Because of the full armour, her voice is robotic-sounding, but I still can't help but smile widely when I hear her go “Eh? What? How... wait. MASH?! What are YOU doing here?”

I smile widely at her. “I got summoned by Director Olga's alternative here! She's really nice, too!”

I can see her tilt her head at me, as her Master takes a lot of breaths. Apparently, he doesn’t deal well with XX’s high-speed aerobatics—neither did Sempai, really. I swear she learned to fly from a video game . . . Wait.

“Aren't you that guy that Mister Erik is looking for to have a talk with?”

He slowly looks up. “Why would he be interested in me, per se?”

I pause, for a moment, deciding on what to do, before looking at Nestor. “Mister Nestor?”

“Just Nestor will do, or Captain Nestor, if you'd like, Lass. Erik'll want to have a word with you, since the Scylla's tapping on all the phone lines for the planet right now, and you had an interesting set of calls earlier. That and you forgot to not mention things while having a few hundred thousand microphones recording everything.”

I watch him slowly wince. “Didn’t realise they had that kind of range . . .” Sighing, he says, “I suppose that’s my cue to say, ‘take me to your leader,’ then?”

I glance at the fishing pole beside me, then at Fou, wide eyed and blinking, before looking at Nestor. “His Servant's a nice one, Nestor. I'm sure she'll be nice and help us out a lot here, so we don't have to worry too much. But to help you feel safe, I'll help guard them while taking them to Mister Erik.”

He smiles, and nods at me. “I'll lead us on a shortcut to there, so you bunch can meet our boss.”

I smile at Olga. “Do you want to come with, or fish more, Olga?”

“I'm gonna fish more! Anyways, Sapphire can protect me!”

“Yes Mistress! Of course I'll protect you!”

XX’s as-yet unnamed Master stares at her own in clear disbelief, choking out, “Chibi-Olga—and Sapphire . . .” A hand reaches up to cup his temples, rubbing half-heartedly as he mutters under his breath, “It could be worse, it’s not Ruby—but damn it, Zelretch . . .”

I giggle softly at their antics, before pulling myself up, with Fou hopping down to walk with us. “Let's go then, Nestor! I'm sure they'll be fine guests for the ship!”

He laughs, and nods. “Indeed, lass. I'm sure they wouldn't last well against the Legion of Coal otherwise.”



Erik's Workshop, 3:25 PM

Erik looks up, blinking, then stares at Godafrid and co. who's entering. "Galen? The fuck are you doing here ali...wait. You're alive?! I thought you died when the titans somehow fused together!"

Godafrid's eyes narrow, as he studies Erik, while thinking. Interesting, very interesting—I'm dealing with the character, then. I figured as much . . . But how do I explain . . . ? Ah, that's it!

"I kind of reincarnated as a player who played as me, sort of. It's a bit more of a mess than that, but..."

"Player who played as yourself? An RPG or something?" Erik tilts his head, thinking.

"Yeah—then I went through several more incarnations, up and down the timeline, since Fate seems to love screwing with me... I can't even go back to playing the game, since it won't even exist for a few more years in the current continuity."

"Oh me, this is so meta. So you... remember playing as yourself, and BEING yourself? By Odin's Hairy Beard, this is just... a clusterfuck."

He shook his head. "No, your side of things is sealed; I remember playing it, but not being it anymore. There's a paper record—character sheets, and whatnot—but... it's a bit of a mess. Still, if there's a divine spark in me somewhere, I haven't found it yet... ” His head whipped around to stare at his Servant. “Did you just COUGH—again?"

"I'm sorry, but Erik-sensei aside, that kind of information is classified beyond your clearance level, Master."

"Erik...Sensei?"

Despite having a faceplate that conceals her expression, XX’s armour could be remarkably communicative, surprisingly. "Who do you think makes my armor in the future?!"

Apparently realising she’d blurted out something she shouldn’t have, she quickly repeated, “Further details are classified.”

". . . That looks like a pretty-advanced model—and I'm not even sure where I'm going WRONG with the Mark 1 of the type I'm BUILDING. Any tips?"

"Um... ” she hesitated. “ . . .You need a mana/od reactor instead of a nuclear one or gas powered one... wait. Why am I telling you this?! Don't take advantage of me, sensei!" MHXX sounds like she's pouting, audio alteration or not.

“Ever hear of closed loops, XX?” her Master offered. “Things that occur in the future because of things that happened as a result of time travel to the past?”

Erik's eyes narrow. "Besides, I'm pretty sure if we don't win this, there IS no future for us to HAVE. That's what Zelretch hinted at, anyways."

"Oh. Well... Um..." A long pause. "I'm not supposed to talk about this, but if there's no future, am I supposed to talk about it? What's the threat?"

"Three mile asteroid meant to cause the Fimbulwinter in Norse Mythology, summoned by the Heart of Winter, the last divine Relic made by the Titan Ymir. Currently in a partially built Noble Phantasm that may not activate, but I'd rather not RISK it."

"Uh, Master?!" She's freaking out. To be fair, she's not WRONG to do so.

Godafrid is muttering under his breath. "Damn it, I KNEW I should have read that entire plotline out—even if I wasn't going to USE it, I still should have read that part of the damned book..."

Erik sighs. "Loosely, the frost giants were sure the damned thing could summon a 3 mile chunk of ice to cause 3 years of winter, minimum. In other words, full on apocalypse. The Wolfen's not going to survive it, with how low on fuel we ARE right now. Not even speaking of SUPPLIES. Add in the whole 'Half mile sized colony ship at Mars that we NEED to get supplies back to, desperately...' and we have an utter clusterfuck that needs to be stopped before things get WORSE."

Godafrid pulls his cell phone out, then dials. It only takes a moment before he starts speaking. "Fiore? Sweetheart? When, exactly, were you going to tell me about the planet killing doohickey in your basement?” He paused. “. . . Yes, I called it a ‘doohickey’—the technical jargon I use is less important than the planet-killing part, isn’t it?”

MHXX sighs, palming her head against her gauntlets. "Ah, while Master's on the phone... He sent Rin and Emiya-san to go and save the Ruler of the war... a Joan of Arc? You... ah... may want to save them from Semiramis, Sensei. I don't think they can win that sort of fight if things go wrong."

Erik nods, thinking. "What will you be doing, then?"

"Ah... I'm going to look over my armor's coding, see if I can't turn down the safety restrictions for the duration of this incident. If there's a planet-killing item in that basement, we NEED to deal with it as soon as possible, and I'm authorized for turning down my safeguards meant for protecting civilians in case of an emergency, or turning the reactor up from the bare minimum of power output, to the maximum... But the paperwork is going to be terrible. I might not even get bonus pay and a vacation, at this rate!"

Erik coughs. "If you're dealing with a future ME... Wouldn't pointing out that you were helping with the Heart of Winter lead ME to paying you back in the future?"

"That's a good point! ...One that you've gone over in lessons, repeatedly, now that I think about it. Damn it. Am I altering history by telling you this, or am I just remembering things I half forgot?!"

"I wouldn't have a clue. More likely, you're just remembering things clearly, though. Any tips on this? Or access to your database for things I designed around this period of time?"

She pauses for a moment, but follows as he walks towards the hangar. "Most of it is encrypted, but he did always have me bring along a couple files for you..."

"Oh?"

"Um... want me to read them, Sensei? I can right now..."

"Why certainly!"

She cleared her throat. "File number 1 . . . ‘You forgot Lead, you dumbass. ADD LEAD for the nuclear stuff!’ File number 2: ‘Lightning needs EXTRA heat absorbers. Put in some of those heat-to-electricity things you have to help battery life until you can make better capacitors.’ File number 3: ‘Try having cloaked repair drones OUTSIDE the mech or ship.’ File number 4: ‘If you make a tiny flywheel the RIGHT way, you don't need most capacitors, ANYWAYS. Just don't try for something stupid like electron degenerate matter, ’kay? That was a complete and utter clusterfuck. File number 5: You have water sprayers. Set up cooling systems on the hull, you dipshit, and use that to create ice armor."

Erik pauses, then slowly rubs his temples.

"Is that alright, Erik-sensei? I'm not sure what he means for these... but..."

"Yeah, that's perfectly understandable. Still, he makes me feel like an idiot... Did he mention what your reactor uses?"

"Um... A fist-sized chunk of some sort of metal similar to something called the Gem of Power. He didn't really explain it well. Something about... Um... Two gallons of ichor compressed—in a shell with a total amount of 13 inches of meteorite steel with runes, and the same dimensional stuff you used to get here in the first place, compressed to the size of something the size of a heart altogether."

Erik pauses, thinking over that for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. "Did you help make that thing?"

"Yes! For my final exam, I helped build mine! And saw the entire process!"

"Could you help me build one, too, before this is over?"

"Sure! My armor drains the reactor heavily, as a warning. You may want to keep that in mind when building it. Without the armor, the reactor boosts my body up to much stronger levels of capability."


Author's Notes:

Wooph. This was one big chapter to write. Kieran and I teamed up for writing the between bits, as Erik and Godafrid talked to each other.

Mash here, you get to see more of her issues.

Mechanically, in Fate/Grand Order, you can have her in the final fights in Solomon, even though what happens in there, happens.

More than that, even though she has issues after Solomon, you can still have her as a servant in your party, irregardless of her BEING STUCK IN THE COMMAND CENTER, UNABLE TO ACT AS A SERVANT AT THE TIME.

This is my theory as to why. They're using her Saint Graph, which they're backing up. But there's dimensional fuckery going on, thus the whole "friends can summon her" bit from alternate versions of Chaldea.

And if enough of that happens, who knows what might be altered? Or if it's being altered as her being a servant, instead, and tapping into memories of other versions of her due to different ways?

It's rather hard to tell. So here you have a Mash who's a servant, but has all the oddness of being a Chaldean servant, in a nutshell. Wondering if she's a file in a computer, made real. Or if she's a true servant after all, and trying to be a good Kouhai and not bring up any of her issues.

Of course, considering what's going to happen soon enough, she's going to get answers, if not exactly the ones that she'd be expecting.

Fight scene comes when we both can finish working on it, so a chapter from us both at the same time. Erik's perspective, and Emiya's perspective, so you don't have to read "several hours before" repeatedly.

My half is done, but Kieran would rather not have you all wait to read his part of the fight quite a while.




So, on a side note. Any questions for the interlude Shirou to ask Sakura/Semiramis? I'm still not sure what you'd like him to ask, and just asking general questions wouldn't quite do here.

[Arbitrarity]

Yeah, I figured Mash's Saint Graph being some sort of interesting composite was the appropriate explanation. It seems a bit ambiguous whether she should be able to participate in EoR chapters when I played Shinjuku (since she's in the command room, canonically, but it's not clear if she has powers or not), but I hear this is solidified once you get to Lostbelts (again, Ortenaus).

The moment we've been waiting for, Erik meets Frid... and he actually had a spot in the campaign, and is appearance-similar enough? Huh. Kieran, your tendency to self-insert even extends to NPCs in games you run? "Sealed" memories indeed. That's one point of view, I suppose, and is sufficiently accurate for interaction.

Abusing future knowledge, seems good. Godforged armor and reactor for a Servant seems appropriate. Very "yes, and" improv-feeling, I like it. Fill in those details. Always love how MHXX is all about that vacation time and bonus pay.

"Could you help me build one, too, before this is over?"

"Sure! My armor taps deep enough on my own, to weaken me quite a bit, but it still works pretty well!"

This last sentence is a bit difficult for me to parse. MHXX's armor taps deep enough on her own reactor (draws enough power) to weaken her quite a bit (relative to no armor), but she still has a solid amount of power available from it? I'm not quite sure why she gave that as a response to asking if she could help build another. As a caveat about its total power output? But that's not really useful unless Erik has an idea of how much power her armor draws. Might benefit from some rephrasing, I'd consider something like "It generates a good amount of power, though my armor consumes the bulk of it"

[Kieran]

The moment we've been waiting for, Erik meets Frid... and he actually had a spot in the campaign, and is appearance-similar enough? Huh. Kieran, your tendency to self-insert even extends to NPCs in games you run?

It does when I only have two players to work with, and they can use the backup . . .

But, yes - there was a version of me in the campaign - using powers of illusion, he actually had quite a few identities (Kieran and Galen among them) - who eventually wound up becoming part of the Norse pantheon under the identity of Krampus in the Norse pantheon, a deity of punishment who served as leader of the Wild Hunt - and consort to Hel.

"Sealed" memories indeed. That's one point of view, I suppose, and is sufficiently accurate for interaction.

Indeed - and similar to Godafrid's explanation of his own origins, as the next chapter will show . . .

Abusing future knowledge, seems good. Godforged armor and reactor for a Servant seems appropriate. Very "yes, and" improv-feeling, I like it.

Well, somebody had to build the Avalon Holy Armour and Rhongomyniad RL 2 (which I still swear sounds like it should stand for "Railgun Launcher").

Fill in those details.

We'll do our best.

Always love how MHXX is all about that vacation time and bonus pay.

She's a working adult, now - it's important!

This last sentence is a bit difficult for me to parse. MHXX's armor taps deep enough on her own reactor (draws enough power) to weaken her quite a bit (relative to no armor), but she still has a solid amount of power available from it? I'm not quite sure why she gave that as a response to asking if she could help build another. As a caveat about its total power output? But that's not really useful unless Erik has an idea of how much power her armor draws. Might benefit from some rephrasing, I'd consider something like "It generates a good amount of power, though my armor consumes the bulk of it"

. . . I said the same, and I thought he had (in fact, I'll bet he thought he had, too ).

[RanmaBushiko]

Yeah, I figured Mash's Saint Graph being some sort of interesting composite was the appropriate explanation. It seems a bit ambiguous whether she should be able to participate in EoR chapters when I played Shinjuku (since she's in the command room, canonically, but it's not clear if she has powers or not), but I hear this is solidified once you get to Lostbelts (again, Ortenaus).

The moment we've been waiting for, Erik meets Frid... and he actually had a spot in the campaign, and is appearance-similar enough? Huh. Kieran, your tendency to self-insert even extends to NPCs in games you run? "Sealed" memories indeed. That's one point of view, I suppose, and is sufficiently accurate for interaction.

Abusing future knowledge, seems good. Godforged armor and reactor for a Servant seems appropriate. Very "yes, and" improv-feeling, I like it. Fill in those details. Always love how MHXX is all about that vacation time and bonus pay.


This last sentence is a bit difficult for me to parse. MHXX's armor taps deep enough on her own reactor (draws enough power) to weaken her quite a bit (relative to no armor), but she still has a solid amount of power available from it? I'm not quite sure why she gave that as a response to asking if she could help build another. As a caveat about its total power output? But that's not really useful unless Erik has an idea of how much power her armor draws. Might benefit from some rephrasing, I'd consider something like "It generates a good amount of power, though my armor consumes the bulk of it"

*Chuckles* Yeah, I figured you might catch on a bit. With all the odd stuff going on in Chaldea, this isn't the weirdest of things possible.

As for Erik meeting Frid... yes, we both knew it would likely happen like that. If Frid had been greeted by his real name? It would have been ME, not Erik.

Finally, as for the "future" knowledge, it makes sense that she got it somehow. A friendly God teaching science and engineering while figuring out where he is? It's not the craziest thing you might see out of Type-moon, either. Of course, surviving to GET to that point...

As for the last sentence... yeah, I thought I corrected that, as Kieran realized, but I apparently copied off the wrong draft. There were so many versions being used at the end to ensure the writing would be perfect... eh, you get it, I think.

Loosely, however... without the armor, she's a five star servant, from stats, etc. With it, she's a four star. This is meant to make people realize that this is a thing, as well as the armor being why. She knows it weakens her, but not how much, really.

[Kieran]

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





En route to Trifas, Romania
July 2, 2004








Rulers, as befitted their function as the Holy Grail War’s Overseers, had a stupidly high Magic Resistance; after all, they wouldn’t be much good for the job if a Master could easily eliminate—or worse, compel—them.

Jeanne d’Arc, also known as Joan of Arc to English speakers, was no different in that regard. Though Rin had never laid eyes on the Heroic Spirit in question (not yet, at least), she had been informed that Jeanne had an EX-ranked Magic Resistance. Which, again, made sense for her proposed role and pretty much guaranteed immunity to any form of divination magic in regards to locating her—or any other kind, for that matter. After all, Saber had been able to resist things like Gae Bolg and Medousa’s Mystic Eyes of Cybele, and even she adhered to the standard scale.

On the other hand, “EX-rank,” as Rin understood it, was the Grail System’s way of giving up on quantifying something entirely, throwing up its metaphorical hands (or literal, in Ilyasviel’s case) and saying “You know what? It works, period.”

This, naturally, would give Jeanne a virtual immunity to spells of any kind, and a fairly high resistance to things powered by or which mimicked enchantments, such as Noble Phantasm weapons and the aforementioned Mystic Eyes. Locating her with anything other than physical (as opposed to metaphysical) means was therefore impossible.

. . . Unless, of course, you know how to use the Grail itself to do the work, Rin thought with satisfaction.

Or, more specifically, could just ask Ilyasviel to find her.

Sadly, Jeanne wasn’t anywhere close enough to just open a Door directly to her, but she wasn’t far enough from one to make needing a cab or similar transport necessary. Ilyasviel could connect her Door to a door within walking distance—which would give Rin time to formulate plans.

If Archer would just stop giving her the silent treatment, things would go a lot more smoothly . . . But as she felt those steel-gray eyes boring into the back of her head (going up against an Assassin, much less one with Caster attributes, those fractions of a second it took her Servant to materialise could literally mean life or death), the magus sighed.

“What?” she growled, head whipping around to glare at him.

“That’s my question,” he replied caustically, with a not-inconsiderable glare himself. “What are you doing, Rin? Why are you? Who was that guy, how does he know all he seems to—and why are you listening to him?”

“What am I doing?” she repeated. “I’m obeying the orders of my master, the Wizard Marshal.” She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him . . .?

“As to why,” she continued, without missing a beat, “it’s because he is my master, and that’s an apprentice’s duty—or a Servant’s.” She ground out the last word icily, and going by Archer’s expression, he clearly understood her implication.

“As to your last two questions?” she said frivolously. “He appears to be a magus—or a spellcaster, at least—native to this particular facet of the Kaleidoscope.”

A feat she would dearly love to know the mechanics of accomplishing, along with who had done so, and why . . .

“And I’m listening to him because he’s far less mundane than that,” she finished. “His looks have changed—somewhat—alongside his abilities . . . But he’s still a native of a facet far closer to Akasha than ours is, with all the knowledge that such a position might impart.

“Besides,” she added, “I saved his life—twice.”

The first time had been in her efforts to help Ilyasviel and Sakura put his contradictory existence back into something resembling a stable form—when she’d first heard the story of his dual origins. That was more of a group effort thing, though; she considered herself amply repaid by the insights he’d given her into the Kaleidoscope through his stories, to say nothing of the dirt he had on certain other magi at the Clock Tower . . .

The second time, however, was far more personal: Saber had not taken her sudden transformation into a two-tonne reptile—Phantasmal Species or not, capable of taking human form or not—that was brimming with adolescent hormones calmly.

At least she’s back to normal now, and more forgiving of the incident, Rin thought, somewhat amused. Arturia PenDRAGON had been kind of fun to observe, honestly; her instinctive hoarding of plushies over other forms of riches had turned a potentially problematic behaviour into something cute.

“And you think that will matter,” Archer sneered, “to a magus that’s not only competing for the Grail, but who was apparently told to infiltrate our side by his fiancée on the other?”

“Which he told me immediately, without hesitation,” Rin countered, “and apparently because his fiancée was worried about the repercussions of losing on her younger brother—and that’s assuming either of them even survived the War in the first place.”

She fixed him with a look that was none of her usual glares—and (though she could not know it, from her perspective) was all the more chilling for it. “I understand that motivation, that mentality. I know it very intimately—and you, of all people, ought to know damned well that I do.”

Rin knew, better than most, that Counter Guardian EMIYA was a cold bastard. Nice people weren’t generally chosen as Counter Guardians; if nothing else, to do what he’d done to her and to himself, he’d had to be . . .

But to his credit, he refused to meet her eyes.

“As for ‘Frid,’ or whatever he’s called at the moment,” she continued, “he’ll care more about the girl than the Grail—and her wish is so harmless, I’d be tempted to let her have it if it didn’t conflict with Zelretch’s orders . . .”

Truthfully, from what he’s said about her, I might enjoy meeting Fiore-san for tea, a corner of her mind mused. In another world, perhaps . . .

Aloud, Rin sighed. “I don’t suppose you happen to have records of encountering Semiramis in other Holy Grail Wars?”

The Servant shook his head. “No—and she’s not a renowned weapon-user, so I never did any independent research . . . Balmung, on the other hand, I’m familiar with; if Black sends Siegfried like your friend said they would, I can handle him.”

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary,” Rin mused. “We’ve both fought Executors before, so we’re probably prepared for Kotomine—though an Executor with Servant-level parameters, Ruler’s discernment abilities, and Command Spells that possibly affect more Servants than just his own could be . . . Troublesome.

“And that brings us back to Semiramis—the Assassin with the attributes of a Caster.” Rin scowled. “I hate dealing with magi from the Age of the Gods . . . And yes, that included Frid, when he was one.”

“Then why,” Archer riposted, “do you trust him so deeply?”

“. . . Because whatever the truth of the matter is, he feels he owes us,” Rin said quietly, “Because he wants very badly to accomplish something that matters—something that we’ll be proud of him for . . .

“And I understand that, too.”








In another world, Semiramis would have met Jeanne d’Arc in the throne room of her Hanging Gardens. Secure in her place of power, with access to the Noble Phantasm she had by rights as an Assassin, but which was bound by virtue of being Double Summoned with the attributes of a Caster—specifically, it was conditionally set so that it could only be activated there, instead of at her whim.

That encounter had not led to battle between the two of them; a pity the situation was not reoccurring presently, as it would have been far more advantageous to her than the present circumstances.

Assassins were, as Servants went, arguably the physically weakest of all, barring the Caster class. Their advantages lay in stealth, skill and finesse more than the high parameters common to the Knight Classes, raw mobility of the Rider, or the sheer insane physicality of a Berserker. Their preferred strategy, in general, was therefore to eliminate the Master of an opposing pair, rather than the Servant.

Unfortunately, this target was neither a Master, nor, strictly speaking, was she a Servant—therefore, she lacked that weakness. Worse, this target effectively was a self-Mastered Servant, with the Command Spells to order all other Servants. Therefore, it was best that, if at all possible, she not be seen.

Semiramis was many things; a fool was not one of them. Knowing her Master as she did, she had a fairly good idea of just how hard it would be to hide from Ruler—and thus, a reasonable suspicion of how difficult this battle was likely to be.

A pity that my Gardens are not ready yet—it would make this so much easier . . .

With a sigh, Assassin of Red made what preparations she could. She only hoped that they would be enough . . .








God had been kind enough to grant her another revelation, and Jeanne had asked the truck driver to drop her off at the roadside, once she’d seen a patch of ground that could be reasonably assumed to be a destination. He had still protested—no decent man liked the idea of abandoning a young girl to somewhere so desolate—but eventually yielded to her polite reassurances that she would be fine.

Jeanne was glad of that; death would be a poor repayment for his charity.

It was the work of an instant—less than a heartbeat, barely more than a thought—to shift from Laeticia’s casual clothes to her ceremonial battle garb. The familiar weight of her wrapped banner rested in her grip, and Jeanne took a breath, shifting her thoughts to the mindset of the battlefield. Eyes and ears sharp, she scanned her surroundings, awaiting the ambush she knew was coming . . .

The sudden appearance of a priest, of all things, caught her off-guard—but though it tore something in her to do battle with a man of God, she had fought priests before. Never with violence, but they had chosen to be her opponents, nonetheless . . . And though something deep inside her—Laeticia, or simply memory?—flinched at recalling how it ended the last time, she pressed on, as before, in the name of the duty that God had given her.

“I ask your purpose here,” she called, even as she began discerning things about him (was he therefore a Servant as well as a priest?), “in the name of my duty as Servant Ruler.”

“It’s your duty I’m here for,” the priest answered, with a gentle smile. “You see, sooner or later, it would bring you into conflict with me; I’d much prefer to avoid that.”

“Indeed?” she said, not lowering her guard.

“Quite,” he said agreeably. “You see, I’m familiar with the requirements of your class, and I would rather not see you suffer for your piety.”

“That’s kind of you,” she acknowledged fairly. “Nevertheless, I have been entrusted with this task, and I will carry it out.”

“I thought you might say that,” the priest said with a sigh. He smiled gently, and it made him look bashfully attractive.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this . . .”

The sudden flurrying of feathered wings was her only warning, as flocks of doves which had been concealed in tree branches above her sightline erupted forth, bearing down on her from multiple directions—and the priest suddenly hurled a series of blades that he conjured from nowhere.

Undaunted, Jeanne leaped up, swinging her banner down at an angle such that it deflected the blades’ course, sending them tearing through several of the birds—and thereby creating an opening. Thrusting the tip of her banner into the earth, she exerted the strength and flexibility granted to her as Ruler, using it and the natural momentum of her makeshift lever to vault out of range of the rest of the swooping birds . . .

The mandala underneath her feet activated the moment she touched ground.

Chains materialised out of nowhere, restricting her movements; it was a testament to the strength of the spell that she had to exert her will, briefly, to shatter it, rather than simply failing outright. Still, it nearly held her long enough that she couldn’t dodge the next set of blades, but she managed to lean out of the way in time.

It was only when she tried to move again that she realised some other restraint had been employed—Jeanne risked a glance back, and saw that the blades had impaled her shadow, somehow tethering her to this position.

A sweep of her banner shattered the weapons, dissolving them into glittering fragments—

And breath abruptly left her body.

A trap, she realised. Some form of poison, dispersed when I destroyed the blades . . .?

“I truly wish it hadn’t come to this,” the priest said, sounding genuinely regretful. “Hydra venom, according to the lore, is a truly torturous way to die. But given that it causes anything with even the barest hint of mortality death, eventually, it ought to be effective—”

He cut off, abruptly vanishing in a full-on retreat.

Jeanne was bowled over as white wars with black in her vision, the world consumed by fiery explosion even as her body—Laeticia’s body!—was consumed by poison . . .








HOW COULD YOU MISS?!

Rin’s telepathic raging at Archer was a good distraction from the startling vision of Shirou Kotomine—basically, as a being identical to Shirou Emiya, with Archer’s own colouring and Kotomine Kirei’s fashion sense.

Because the explosion generated by a direct hit would’ve vaporised Ruler, as well? Archer replied dryly. And she looks bad enough as it is, right now.

He was right—at the moment, the “Pseudo-Servant,” as Frid had described her, was a choking mess, weeping blood and a toxic-looking green fluid.

Can you trace Avalon, and make it work properly? Rin asked. She couldn’t think of anything else that might help her fast enough.

Not quickly—and those two might take offense to that, he noted.

Rin grimaced, noting the black-clad woman—with ears that made Caster’s look small—coming to stand beside the battered priest. This was pretty much their worst-case scenario . . .

. . . And then, things got weird.

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 21: Memories and Confrontations, Part 3

Wolfen's Hangar, 4 PM

I settle into my War Beast, Tamamo at my back, as the final calibrations to the upgrade for Amaterasu and her Valkyrie are being done. It should last for three hours, but it shouldn't take that long to tow this.

It's engines roar as I fire up my machine, and I toggle the weapon systems on.

“Radiant Wave Surger Plating: Online
3/∞ ammunition
Twin Gas Powered Ballista Crossbows: Online
6,000 ammunition
Triple Micro-Missile Launchers: Online
54 ammunition
Railgun: Online
3 500 pound bomb explosives
500 rail gun bolts
Sextuplet Barrel Articulated Laser: Online
∞ ammunition”

I glance at the 3 constantly switching with ∞, before fading on ∞, for the Radiant Wave Surger Plating. It's not perfect, but it looks like it's still effectively “infinite ammunition” for it. Barely. Then I watch as another screen pops up.

“Warning. Radiant Wave Surger Plating will lightly damage and irradiate armor underneath per use. Activate for possible use during fighting, anyways?”

Hitting the Y key, I watch it change.

“Sextuplet targeting, online. All systems are active and functional.”

I smile, as the screens shift, showing dozens of views of outside. Radar, views through other systems, everything is shown for me to see. All with a handy ammunition counter as well.

Then Tamamo smacks me over the head. “Radiant Wave Surger Plating OFF please, dear. I don't want to get irradiated from this thing.”

I sigh, then nod, turning that function off, and rerouting power to another set of sextuplet micro-missile launchers instead. “Yes, dear.” Diagnostics show... no damage to the plating, or irradiation. No damage to secondary or tertiary systems for ensuring my War Beast works. All divine systems still work, at least for now, and all divine abilities work as well.

Idly, I watch outside, one eye looking at the ammunition counter going from 54 to 72 for the micro-missiles. The tether's connected, and we're about to get pulled with the launch any moment.

I can hear the metal strain, as Amaterasu launches, pulling us with hard enough that we fly under it. Glancing up, I see the metal and tethers both going invisible as we launch, too.

It takes an hour, to get there. Mostly from Rex's weight. Sad to say, Rex doesn't have the ability to get jump jets, or something similar built in.

But soon enough, I can see 3 women and two men on a road down far below.

I smirk, then focus. “Amaterasu, I'm un-linking the tether. Watch things, and if anyone tries to escape, fry them with the Radiant Wave Surger. Can your illusions handle hiding the battle scene and make us all effectively invisible?”

“No problem, Son in Law. I'll shape my illusions accordingly.”

I smirk, then drop, using the momentum to slide down the road, and make a spectacular entrance indeed, as the spikes slam down, helping Rex slow down to a halt before them.

The one lady with long ears pauses, then turns to stare in mute shock, along with the white haired man beside her. The blonde has... green tears, and is trying to not scream? While the brunette with blue eyes, and the white haired, grey eyed one beside HER is holding a bow with an odd arrow... wait. That's EMIYA from Fate/Stay Night. Which means she's Rin Tohsaka.

Hmm. Time to fuck with the Assassins.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROdo0k-9NDM (Furious Angels ~ Rob Dougan)

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I am! TONIGHT'S ENTERTAINMENT!" I pull the head back for Rex, letting it ROAR, a mechanical roar that leaves them shaking.

Then I pull it back down, popping the mouth open just enough to look at them, and get a good smell.

The lady with long ears smells like poisons and... divinity. One unknown to me. Interesting. Very interesting.

"Assassin of Red and Archer of Red, I presume?"

"Indeed. I'm afraid, Caster of Red, you have me at a disadvantage."

I laugh, and open the hatch fully, showing myself. "I'm not a caster, lady. Just because this universe doesn't work the same as my home one did, doesn't mean I'm capable of being locked away like the planet wants me to be, so easily. Now if I unleashed my FULL Godly might, and forced myself to re-ascend? Certainly. At this level, however, it's just an irritating drain for me."

They all freeze up. Hard. I can see the blonde going wide eyed, even as she desperately tries to not scream from the poison in her.

"Unfortunately, it seems like your interest in Servant Ruler being dead doesn't work as well as my interest in seeing her alive and healthy. Pity that. Care to reconsider?"

"Master? You were wrong about him. Orders?" She turns, looking towards the man beside her, with the katana and white hair.

"Fuck this. Kill him, destroy his toy, while I deal with Archer of Red."

I laugh, darkly, even as I seal the hatch again, and use Untouchable Opponent.

"Ehehehehehe... Ahahahahaha... MWAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, that's HILARIOUS! My War Beast's legend is based on the prior ones! As the third in it's line... you have one, GREAT problem with that! It's fated to only be truly destroyed in SVARTALFHEIM, JUST LIKE THE OTHERS WERE! AND WE AREN'T THERE, NOW ARE WE?!"

I see her eyes go wide, even as she pales, before I rush around her, guns blazing. She's slow, almost pathetically so. But her skill with magic is enough to let her form shields, and even launch blasts of power at me, made of pure magic.

I roll, back flip, side flip, side jump and generally outmaneuver her, constantly, pushing her back with my guns.

"Come now, Assassin! It's useless! GIVE UP and I'll spare your life!"

She glares, her eyes narrowing, as chains form. I smile as she launches them at me, even as the lasers fire up.

"AHAHAHAHA! NOT YET!"

The look of stunned, terrified horror, as she watches her chains get carved up, is one that I'll never forget. Right before I boot her in the face with one of the claws, launching her like a bludgeon towards her Master. Right as he takes a giant corkscrew arrow to the face.

Combo! Woo!

"Is this a Red faction only event, or can anyone join in?"

I glance at the cameras, for a moment, then jump backwards, glancing towards what looks to be one of the ones from last night.

"Ah. One of those ones from last night. Have you heard my warning about that little apocalypse event you've got in your basement, yet?"

"My master is unsure that you aren't lying about not being a Servant... but..."

"I'm not lying about it. I'd rather not let out exactly what my situation is, but I have enough followers to stay here, rather than get dragged wherever the planet is trying to drag me to."

"...Ah. Well, it seems that you've damaged my side, however."

"Assassin of Red is trying to assassinate Servant Ruler, Saber of Black. You can save it for once she's clear of their attempt to finish the job."

"...Very well, then. But after this, we'll be having some words, Norse God."

"Certainly."

I turn, looking towards Assassin of Red, as well as her Master. They're pulling themselves up, and she's glaring harder now.

"Tch. It looks like you're going to be a pain. Very well, let's see how you handle me holding back less."

A massive magical circle forms above her, as she smiles at us. And from that circle, comes a massive beast, sticking it's head out. I can see Saber of Black desperately dodging away from where the beast might land.

"Oh? A good fight?!"

I grin, settle Rex into a proper stance, then target it, grinning.

"Dear, are those others out of range enough?"

"Yes, Dear!"

I alter the weapons selection, thumbing my controls, adjust the rail gun, then grin. "SMILE, BITCH!"

*CRACKA-BOOM*

The rail gun fires, punching the 500 pound explosive equivalent of C4 straight through the summoned Beast's head, right into Semiramis' Shield, JUST before it blows up.

"Rho Aias!"

In the distance, I can see Emiya desperately form a seven petaled shield between the explosion, as well as himself, his Master, and Joan of Arc. Or Jeanne. Whatever her name is.

Up closer, I can see Saber of Black's face go white, from the strength of the shock wave, where he landed at.

"You won't have it nearly as easy if we fight like this, by the way. You're either Sigurd, or possibly Siegfried, am I right?"

"You shouldn't have realized that so easily."

"Considering the teacher who taught me blacksmithing, and helped me learn engineering, was the one that forged Gram? And I'm as good as he is? I don't give a shit."

"...Oh. Does this mean we fight now?"

"I haven't seen her corpse yet. Never take your eyes off your opponent until you have, you know?"

"Tch. Impressive indeed." Semiramis' voice echoes over the battlefield, leaving my eyes narrowing.

"Not dead yet, hmm? Well, I'll fix that lady. Unless I can convince you to surrender? Your skills are impressive enough that I'll give that option to you as a freebie. Work for me, and I'll spare your master and yourself."

The smoke clears, to show her wounded. Her skin is charred, her dress has huge gaps missing. She's breathing in and out, hard.

But why is she smiling? Why the hell is she smiling?

"I'm not so easy to kill. Let's see how you deal with this, Norse God."

She dashes forwards, and I open up with my guns, even as I call up Amaterasu. "Any chance of hitting her?"

"Not without damaging you, I can't! Her shield's focused, but any targeting arc I take, she's using to ensure you're going to get hit if I miss a shot! I'm not that good with guns yet, damn it, much less this thing!"

"Got it. I'll drive her back, then."

I adjust myself, jumping to the side, even as I target her with more weapons. C'mon bitch. Keep running forwards like a good bitch should. That's it. Keep being a nice, perfect, juicy target... while... wait. Where'd her Master go?

I pause, then jump upwards. How the hell did he get behind Rex?

She smiles at me, as my War Beast jumps. I smile back, grinning, as she gets 24 micro-missiles launched at her, simultaneously.

"YOU BASTARD!"

*BOOMSHAKALAKALAKABOOM*

"Oh come on, you thought I'd be cornered that easily?"

I flip, my eyes narrowing, then pull Rex into a back flip. I can see her Master's glee that it looks like I'm about to miss, even as I kick...

Then, the claws on my War Beast's foot slam out to add to both the impact and range, sending him flying off towards her again.

*CRUNCH*

Oh, that sounded like something broke for them.

"Fuck YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

She rushes out of the cloud of dust, glaring at me. But she has a grin on her face again...?

"TASTE THIS, YOU BASTARD!"

D Ranked Agility vs Agility 8, Epic Agility 8, and Untouchable Opponent... no contest.

I launch Rex back, easily, as reality twists around her, the air turning from blue to a sickly green in a massive bubble that barely avoids Siegfried, but grazes Emiya.

She's glaring at me harder. "What, did you think I couldn't DODGE a fucking green wall of bullshit poison, lady?"

Emiya's screaming from where he touched that shit. But I can't save him right now, or even try.

Sorry, you poor bastard.

"BALMUNG!"

I widen my eyes, as she gets a taste of Saber of Black's little bullshit wave motion sword of doom goes off in HER face, like it nearly did mine last night.

Oh, that's a NICE shot. "GOOD SHOT, SABER OF BLACK! Let's finish beating her down, then start our own negotiations, shall we?"

"FUCK YOU! Master, I can't handle much more of this, and that machine of his killed my Basmu!"

Basmu? Wait... of Babylonian mythology? That's what that thing was?

Tch. "Firing solution, my servant?"

"Too much smoke, Master!"

I narrow my eyes, analyzing the smoke, then launch micro missiles into the smoke, trying to smoke them out.

*BOOOOOM*

"Fuck you, oh Norse God Master of Red! You'll see for yourself soon enough, that Ruler shouldn't be saved! She'll do her best to see you dead, Norse God, for intervening in this!"

I narrow my eyes, further, as she runs, her master on her back... then they both somehow disappear.

Shit.

"My Servant, can you track them?"

"I'll try, Master!"

She rushes off, firing her afterburner to try and catch up to the two of them, as I spin and slide back from Saber of Black.

"So, are we doing this as well? If I need to fight you to save the Ruler of this War, I will."

He narrows his eyes, then sighs. "She needs treatment. Her and the Archer over there."

"And I've got healing technology on my Aerial Battleship. But I suppose your mages have healing spells, too?"

He nods, before I nod, then sigh.

"Okay then. Let's find a place where we can agree on mutual help for healing her, then we can work out shit involving that bitch of an assassin, her master, and the damned..."

"Clarent!"

Wait, what? The fuck am I hearing?

"BLOOD!"

Energy spike... not targeting me, targeting him?

"Dodge Dear!"

I push myself back, as I hear the scream of "ARTHUR!" and a wall of energy slams into his vicinity, detonating like a bomb.

"Lancer! Help Ruler and Archer of Red, okay partner? I'll help that God fellow drive off Saber of Black like Zelretch wants us to!"

"Scylla, who the hell has Clarent?" I narrow my eyes, even as I slam to a halt, a few feet back.

"Ah... Mordred, Boss! Wait. MORDRED IS THERE?!"

"Indeed... it looks like others for the Red side have shown up to help, otherwise I'd take your offer, Saber of Black. Thank you for wishing to help them. Good luck with your side of things, and please, get me access soon, so I can destroy the Heart of Winter or seal that damned thing up, will you? I'd rather not have it somehow activate."

"They're doing their best to seal it, Master of Red. But it seems like things are stacked against me. Farewell."

I watch him run, and astralize rapidly, before breathing out and leaning against my controls.



Author's Notes:

Hope you enjoyed the fight scenes, everyone!

Here's Rex's stats. Yes, it has unique skills, that aren't going to be shown until they're used.


Metal Gear Rex MK3

Radiant Wave Surger Plating, 3/∞ shots, depending on if it wants to work as a relic or not. Vaporizes anything that touches it, if it does work.
Twin Gas Powered Ballista Crossbows 10 lethal damage each, 6,000 shots, 3 speed
4 Micro-missile launchers, 0 accuracy, 10 lethal damage, fires 6 shots each at a time, 6 speed
3 shots of 6, or 18 shots, per launcher. Can have power switched over to the Radiant Wave Surger instead, but takes a minute, or 60 speed, to switch back and forth.
Railgun has two types of rounds.
3 bombs, 500 pound equivalents, 100 lethal damage, 12 speed
500 rail gun bolts, 5 lethal damage, 1 speed, but the longer the speed is held back, the more damage it does. Maximum of 16 lethal damage, 12 speed
Sextuplet Barrel Articulated Laser, 6 aggravated damage, 6 speed.
Unlike the original laser, mounted at the “crotch” of the machine, this one has been articulated, and modified to be able to cut at anything touching the legs, or even move up to cut anything off that might be grabbing onto the back of the machine. Mostly because the first model didn't have the articulation, and thus it got stuck when some foes dropped it in lava, and Erik's attempt to break free hardened the lava into rock, instead.

Abilities as a divine, legendary relic:
“It's not over, not yet!”:
???????

“All Systems! FULL POWER!”:
???????

“Hey, you missed a trick!”:
???????

"Svartalfheim! Where this weapons' fate was born! The fate and legend that you'll die to!":
The First was made mostly of Pykrete and Stygian Iron, and fell to Fafnir
The Second was made from steel, using liquid nitrogen as coolant, and fell to Surtr.
The Third is made from Meteorite Iron, and utilizes pure brutality.
Can always be repaired unless fully destroyed in Svartalfheim, irregardless of damage taken.

Erik's personal war machine, this has been upgraded and fine tuned past the point of any other machine he has. Unlike the Mecha Fafnir line, Metal Gear Rex MK3 has probably the best chance of surviving an apocalypse. Unfortunately, Tamamo won't let Erik actually use one of the systems on board. She doesn't want to get either of them irradiated, so the Radiant Wave Surger is typically unused.

Health, 1320. Armor 12. Speed 60 mph. Control - 5.

“I don't want to be irradiated, damn it!” is Tamamo's wifely battle cry against him using the plating.

Rolling for HP resulted in this:
Craft 6 (Smithing), Craft 5, (Ice), Craft 5 (Pykrete), Craft 7 (Engineering), Craft 5 (Hydraulics), Craft 7 (Cybernetics), Craft 5 (Artificial Muscles), Craft 5 (Legend), Craft 8 (Relics), Craft 6 (Divine)
59 + 11 for Intelligence, + 29 automatic successes, + 52 automatic successes, times 12.
70D10E8 => 27 | 10s: 11, ones: 9 = 29. 29 + 29 + 52 = 110. 110 * 12 = 1320
Metal Gear Rex's hp pool = 1,320

Keep in mind, this was built at his full strength, not the weakened state Erik is in, now.

[Arbitrarity]

“I don't want to be irradiated, damn it!”

You'd think gods, especially those associated with the sun, would have less issue with that sort of thing. Then again, you'd have to replace the plating if you didn't want to irradiate anyone near where you're storing the mech.

Elegantly written battle, Kieran. I feel like Jeanne's magic resistance and/or sainthood should provide some measure of protection against magically-created Hydra venom, in the same way it protects you from things like magically created wind or fire (because the physics would imply those would still work, but they don't), but I guess that's "you didn't instantly die, be happy".

Ranma, your battle has your classic level of attention to detail and amusingly described imbalance. I thought Semiramis' summon and transform the air to poison abilities were limited to the domain of the Hanging Gardens, but if she didn't have those, you wouldn't have a fight here at all. Guess it's going to be even stronger there. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about so many Servants swearing liberally at being kicked around by giant mechs, it feels a bit out of character for Semiramis. Avicebron, Vlad, sure. Emiya, Mordred, MHXX, if that happened for some reason, sure. The rest feel too dignified (Chiron, Siegfried, Jeanne), or are not emotional in quite the right way (Jack, Astolfo, Fran), for that to feel right. And Scathach would probably destroy him, plus she doesn't really seem to get angry in fights.

And now we meet with Touko and Kairi as well, I guess. I'm not surprised that Jeanne is likely to intervene against Erik, a demigod throws the balance of the war out of whack.

[RanmaBushiko]

You'd think gods, especially those associated with the sun, would have less issue with that sort of thing. Then again, you'd have to replace the plating if you didn't want to irradiate anyone near where you're storing the mech.

Elegantly written battle, Kieran. I feel like Jeanne's magic resistance and/or sainthood should provide some measure of protection against magically-created Hydra venom, in the same way it protects you from things like magically created wind or fire (because the physics would imply those would still work, but they don't), but I guess that's "you didn't instantly die, be happy".

Ranma, your battle has your classic level of attention to detail and amusingly described imbalance. I thought Semiramis' summon and transform the air to poison abilities were limited to the domain of the Hanging Gardens, but if she didn't have those, you wouldn't have a fight here at all. Guess it's going to be even stronger there. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about so many Servants swearing liberally at being kicked around by giant mechs, it feels a bit out of character for Semiramis. Avicebron, Vlad, sure. Emiya, Mordred, MHXX, if that happened for some reason, sure. The rest feel too dignified (Chiron, Siegfried, Jeanne), or are not emotional in quite the right way (Jack, Astolfo, Fran), for that to feel right. And Scathach would probably destroy him, plus she doesn't really seem to get angry in fights.

And now we meet with Touko and Kairi as well, I guess. I'm not surprised that Jeanne is likely to intervene against Erik, a demigod throws the balance of the war out of whack.

Let's see now, in order...

Yeah, less issue, if her divinity was fully WORKING. As it is, she'd rather have a better chance of getting pregnant via Erik in the short term, rather than having a higher survival rate in the short term. Add in that even high enough radiation can outright kill Scion's gods... Loosely, it does aggravated damage. If Tamamo was legend 2, or legend 3? She'd be a lot safer on that front, but as it is, the only thing that can protect her against aggravated damage is her shield.

Yeah, Kieran's stuff still reads better than mine does, I'll agree. And yes, you're exactly right. Magical poison, most lethal in existence, versus EX ranked magic resistance? Not exactly fair.

In Semiramis' case... she's confused where the mech came from, her ego has rapidly disappeared in the face of the war mech fighting her, and she's stuck burning huge amounts of magic to try and survive Erik, as well as use lower powered versions of her abilities. She managed to summon the top half of a Basmu in this, but considering she used her shields to take the brunt of over 340 lethal damage in direct hits from explosives alone, not including the ballista crossbows? She has every reason to be swearing. She went into the fight expecting Jeanne. Archer was an unpleasant surprise for her. And Erik was just over the top, straight from "Oh, I can take him for SURE!" all the way to "Oh by all the gods and goddesses, what have I gotten INTO?!" for her. At the same time, let's be honest. I have no clue how to swear in her native language, or how to even type her swearing in anything like that. So, instead, you get an assassin, who never wanted to get into this sort of fight in the first place, discovering the joys of heavy explosives. As they detonate in her face, no less.

She literally ran out of power with this fight, trying to survive. Without the hanging gardens to give her an absurdly large boost to her magecraft and abilities, she was in deep trouble after the railgun alone. The micromissiles on top of it left her visibly injured, and badly, badly hurt.

Unfortunately for Erik, the second salvo of micro-missiles outright missed, because she used stealth to get to her master, then used it again to make a run for it.

To be fair, Chiron didn't swear. Astolfo swore ONCE when he realized what was on the Wolfen were advanced cannons, but that's been it. And to be fair, he's too happy to normally care, and is unlikely to swear again.

Finally, as for her "transform the air to poison" ability, it is her second noble phantasm, Sikera Ušum. Visually, it looks like all liquids turn to poison in range, and I suspect also, all moisture/humidity in the air. Including blood. However, the typemoon wiki has more on it, and it's more fascinating than that. You can read it here: https://typemoon.fandom.com/wiki/Sikera_U%C5%A1um. I'm pretty sure the only difference for it, is that it's range is massively enhanced while in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

Finally, here's loosely how she was thinking for this:

"Oh? I have to destroy his toy? Amusing... wait, it can only be destroyed WHERE? You're kidding me, right? Seriously, you're joking, right? I don't have any handy portals to that place!"

"Oh come on, what was THAT, rays of light?! How did it destroy my chains?! Still, I can still win this if I keep things up... oh OW! Wait, Master, are you okay! What's that coming at us?! A corkscrew?!"

"Okay. Okay. Calm down. That hurt, but my shield took it. I can still salvage this for my Master. Summon a Basmu, even though it'll take half my reserves for the top half of one, then go for stealth and get out of-DID HE JUST BLOW MY BASMU'S HEAD OFF?! WAIT, OH CRAP, WHAT WAS THAT AGAINST MY SHIELD JUST NOW?!"

"Oh, that hurt. That really hurt. And I'm starting to get more and more pissed at this fucker for RUINING MY DRESS! My skin is charred! CHARRED, damn him!"

"Wait, master's ready to help? He's got some of his black keys ready! Yes! I'll distract him, Master can get the black keys in that thing's shadow, and then... what are THOSE?!"

"Ow... okay. You can salvage this enough to survive. You can do this. How the hell am I supposed to do this? I'm hurt, everything feels like it's nothing but pain, and I'm going to be stuck recovering for a few days at LEAST from this... wait. That's it, isn't it? If I hit him with my noble phantasm for assassination, I can still turn this thing around. Just got to get close, and put everything I have left into my second noble phantasm. It's foolproof! Let's see you enjoy Hydra Venom, you... did he just dodge?! DID HE JUST DODGE?! THIS BASTARD!"

"I'm almost out of prana. I'm exhausted. Time to run with Master. I'm out, I'm done... WHY IS THIS INFERNAL THING CHASING ME?!"

[Arbitrarity]

If she were summoned with the Hanging Gardens of Babylon as one of her Noble Phantasms in the Assassin-class, then the Sikera Ušum Noble Phantasm can only be invoked at the throne room in the Hanging Gardens.

Yeah, a bit unfair on the "everyone is swearing", since Chiron definitely didn't, and Astolfo was fitting his... mood. I can see Semiramis getting flustered, since she spends the vast majority of normal Apocrypha being a smug snake, rather similar to Medea. Maybe I just don't like the liberal application of fucks, not sure what good options there are to replace it though (I'm probably just more partial to "shit" and "dammit") We've already got lots of "bastard"'s, in standard translated anime style, of course.

[Kieran]

Elegantly written battle, Kieran.

Thank you. I was really afraid it wasn't going to be worthwhile, since needing all the combatants to survive meant that I couldn't rearrange the landscape.

I feel like Jeanne's magic resistance and/or sainthood should provide some measure of protection against magically-created Hydra venom, in the same way it protects you from things like magically created wind or fire (because the physics would imply those would still work, but they don't), but I guess that's "you didn't instantly die, be happy".

You're not wrong . . . Honestly, going by parameters alone, Jeanne should've beaten either one of them like a rug; both at once couldn't have caused her much trouble. It made this very hard to write, and make it seem challenging for her.

In this specific case, though, what got her was the fact that it is Hydra venom - which caused both Chiron and Herakles enough pain that they chose to die - and the fact that Shirou could (and did) bless it beforehand. Sanctified Hydra venom had the effect of cancelling out a lot of her normal protections, which let it have the effect it did.

And now we meet with Touko and Kairi as well, I guess. I'm not surprised that Jeanne is likely to intervene against Erik, a demigod throws the balance of the war out of whack.

Well, if you look at it from the perspective that the Norse wormed their way into Christianity (hanging from a tree as a sacrifice to oneself, hanging from a cross; not to mention resurrection of the shining light that was the best of them - Baldur, anyone?), maybe it'll just become a true Holy Grail . . . ?

Kidding, seriously. But yeah, she's not liable to be pleased about it - whether she'll follow through with "conversion by the sword," though . . .

Yeah, a bit unfair on the "everyone is swearing", since Chiron definitely didn't, and Astolfo was fitting his... mood. I can see Semiramis getting flustered, since she spends the vast majority of normal Apocrypha being a smug snake, rather similar to Medea. Maybe I just don't like the liberal application of fucks, not sure what good options there are to replace it though (I'm probably just more partial to "shit" and "dammit") We've already got lots of "bastard"'s, in standard translated anime style, of course.

If it makes you feel better, I am trying to catch him on it when I'm aware enough to realise it's there (and out-of-character, of course); XX has already had some dialogue rewritten. It's also one of the reasons I keep trying to knock him out of the first-person writing style, so that he actually has to think like another character - to make it sound like someone different.

*Shrugs* RB is trying to improve, and he wants to - it's just not a quick-and-easy process.

[RanmaBushiko]

Yeah, a bit unfair on the "everyone is swearing", since Chiron definitely didn't, and Astolfo was fitting his... mood. I can see Semiramis getting flustered, since she spends the vast majority of normal Apocrypha being a smug snake, rather similar to Medea. Maybe I just don't like the liberal application of fucks, not sure what good options there are to replace it though (I'm probably just more partial to "shit" and "dammit") We've already got lots of "bastard"'s, in standard translated anime style, of course.

Yeah, if you have suggestions for better cursing for Semiramis, etc., go ahead and send me a PM, or comment here about it.

As for her Sikera Ušum, I'm pretty sure that's "Only after the hanging gardens been summoned", because otherwise she has NOTHING TO DEFEND HERSELF WITH except for regular poisons. At the same time, I could also see it being costly, really, truly costly, to use while not in there. Kieran might overrule me, but until he does, I have to say that most likely? She has the ability to use it, but it's stupidly high in cost, which is meant to be shown here.

She also has, in the light novels, some sort of unnamed poison attack. Which, if you look at how she looks while using it, on her main page? I suspect is likely Sikera Ušum, weakened. Here is the picture in question.

Thus why I'm saying she's able to use it in the first place, for the fight, albeit more costly and weakened. Make sense?

[Arbitrarity]

Yep, generally makes sense. Definitely think she'd be hideously underpowered for this fight otherwise, much more dependent on territory than other Servants (worse than Vlad, even). It would probably be a straight retreat, maybe trying to summon Basmu. I guess Basmu would have to not go out quite that fast in that case, maybe requiring Sieg's assistance, given his dragon-slaying. I'd rather have the Servant fight scene.

[Kieran]

Yep, generally makes sense. Definitely think she'd be hideously underpowered for this fight otherwise, much more dependent on territory than other Servants (worse than Vlad, even). It would probably be a straight retreat, maybe trying to summon Basmu. I guess Basmu would have to not go out quite that fast in that case, maybe requiring Sieg's assistance, given his dragon-slaying. I'd rather have the Servant fight scene.

*Chuckles* As I said, there are reasons this fight was difficult to write (on my end, at least; it's easier when it's supposed to be a flat-out rout). Primarily, the fact that Jeanne should have beaten them like they owed her money.

We have decided on a workaround for her Noble Phantasm's present limitation - to be revealed next chapter - but needless to say, this is a big setback for Kotomine, and the repercussions will be . . . Interesting.

[Kieran]

Entrance to the Farplane
Guadosalam, Spira
A very long time ago








Much to Kurai’s surprise, dying by way of having your existence unmade from the face of reality didn’t hurt—even if it really sounded like it should. It was like . . .

Like slowly emptying a water glass, the druid (or ex-druid, now) decided at last—if the water was your life, anyway; and the glass, your hold on reality.

The Seldarine had been kind; the glow of his body dissolving into pyreflies had gradually brightened until it obscured his actual form. No one but he, therefore, could see the dusky skin pale, the muscled bulk melt away, or any of the other dozens of myriad changes that occurred as the result of the half-drow identity being stripped from him. Only the human remained, now: middle-aged, never in shape, forget about being out of it, with dry, cracking skin, ringing ears, eyes that couldn’t focus two feet in front of him—truly, a sorry specimen of the breed, far inferior to even the likes of his recent companions, never mind his prior alias. His sole claim to superiority, if it could be considered that, was that he was older than any one of them.

. . . Or perhaps that he was older than two of them put together, if you counted Yuna and Rikku.

But they would never know that. His secret was safe, and he would forever in their memories be the vital, mysterious sage whose aid and wisdom had helped bring about a new beginning for their world—one free of the fear and despair that Sin and its master Yu Yevon had brought about.

It would be a very different world, he suspected, with dark elves—true dark elves, not drow—walking its lands, but hopefully a brighter one, in the important ways. Either way, he’d been a hero, if not the hero, of the story; as things went, playing Merlin to Yuna’s Arthur wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t his world, after all . . . But he’d had his adventure, done his good, and now the story had come to an end.

How did Frank Miller put it? “This . . . is a good death.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The warmth and glow begin to fade, tangibly, even from behind his eyelids, as light-headedness began to set in. It was nearly done, he suspected.

Dream’s over. Time to wake up—or, more accurately, I suppose . . .

Slip . . . Into . . . The . . . Da—








“Loyal wolf,” said a voice in the dark. Was it a familiar voice? It felt familiar, but if so, the appropriate name stubbornly refused to attach itself . . .

“Take my blood,” whispered the voice, “and live again.”








The feeling of cold hit first. Cold, followed by rough hardness—stone, he thought, but something between the stone and his body . . . That felt kind of like a wicker basket? That didn’t make any sense. The blanket atop him did, but shouldn’t it be lining the basket? Whatever the case, he must’ve been sleeping on his left arm again, because it was totally numb—that nasty, beyond pins-and-needles stage that meant that rubbing feeling back into it was going to hurt like a bitch . . .

The next sense to kick in was scent—specifically, the smell of wood smoke. He normally enjoyed it, and did so now, even as he cringed, inwardly, waiting for his allergies to kick in . . . And was a little surprised that they didn’t—the smell was strong enough that he suspected wherever he was wasn’t especially well-ventilated . . .

Sound—the sound of something scraping wood; some kind of metal tool, he thought. Maybe a—what was it called, a rasp? And his own breathing, of course; from the sound of that, he’d just come out of one hell of a nightmare, but his heart wasn’t pounding, and nor was he sweating. It was just the quick, startled breathing—maybe his allergies were being more subtle, this time?

. . . And what was that creaking sound when he flexed his stiff, left-hand fingers? Had somebody put a cast on him?

Finally, he opened his eyes, and once they focussed (really focussed—but without his glasses?), he took stock of his surroundings.

I’m in a fire-lit cave, check. And . . . With an effort, he lifted his body up. I’m on a straw mat? That’s a Japanese thing—tatami, right? So I’m in a cave, in Japan, while—

He glanced over.

While Shirou Emiya, looking incredibly weird . . . Does wood-carving by firelight?

A memory chose that moment to surface, attaching a name to that particular look.

How and why in ALL THE HELLS is Goddamned MURAMASA . . .?!

Deciding that he was dreaming, he sank back down and rolled over, determined to go back to sleep. Weird dreams unrelated to anything recent or relevant in his life were hardly unusual, after all—he’d had a “Back to the Future” dream not that long ago, several years after he’d last seen anything to do with the films.

. . . Of course, rolling over to get comfortable and adjust the blanket brought his still-numb left arm into view—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

His left arm looked like a Victorian-inspired redesign of Edward Elric’s automail prosthetic—made of wood and ivory as opposed to steel, or even the plastic of more modern prostheses. Given that he’d had two biological arms at last count, however . . .

“So, you’re awake,” noted a dispassionate voice, drawing his attention—albeit slowly—to the other man in the room, who held a chisel in one hand.

“It appears that death is not your fate,” the Servant-Who-Looked-Like-Shirou-Shirtless remarked, sounding a lot more like EMIYA (specifically, the Liam O'Brien Edition) in tone, while gazing at him inscrutably.

“Not yet.”

That statement triggered a faint memory, and he was momentarily stuck between two different, though not unrelated, thoughts.

The first one was, “What the actual HELL . . .?”

And the second was “DAMN YOU, FROMSOFTWARE . . .!”

SEIHAIKO: SIs Die Twice

Writer's Notes: Because the first omake looked a little lonely all by itself . . .

[Arbitrarity]

DAMMIT

Having not played or watched Sekiro, I saw approximately 0% of that coming. Great tagline, does that translate to... Grail-Child, or more liberally, Child of the Grail, approximately? -ko tends to indicate child, and we all remember Seihai-kun from Carnival Phantasm. I'd guess we're protecting Illya, then.

[Kieran]

DAMMIT

Having not played or watched Sekiro, I saw approximately 0% of that coming.

*Chuckles* Excellent . . .

Great tagline, does that translate to... Grail-Child, or more liberally, Child of the Grail, approximately? -ko tends to indicate child, and we all remember Seihai-kun from Carnival Phantasm.

Truthfully, Google Translate has it as "holy cup," and at that point, I was getting tired of wracking my brain for possibilities - that it does work that well is just a serendipitous coincidence.

I'll take it, though.

I'd guess we're protecting Illya, then.

That is the general implication, yes. Since you don't know Sekiro, and I'm still learning, I'll try to limit spoilers (for now), and point out that within the game itself, there's a potential for Arturia and/or Mordred, as well . . .

[RanmaBushiko]

I wound up on a pretty nice camping trip from Monday to Wednesday. Got SOME work done on this Thursday, but was interrupted by Kieran getting the Scion 2nd Edition book in hardcover. Friday involved an rpg game, so that took up a whole lot of time. Blegh.

Chapter 22: A Prince(ss) and a Lancer walk into a Battlefield...

July 2nd, 2004

Their ride, Mordred had to admit, was the most badass thing she'd ever seen. Or that's what she'd been exclaiming, while her master and his maybe/maybe not-girlfriend had ridden up front. Much to Scathach's slowly growing irritation.

A massive beast of metal, the huge truck looked more like something out of a video game than a normal truck for hauling things. Huge metal fenders, reinforced with chrome. The loudest, most incredible horn she'd ever heard. Massive saw blades that could come out from the top if there were any obstructions in the way. Even massive jet engines hidden in the cargo trailer, if they needed to make a quick getaway!

Zelretch had laughed when he'd given it to them, said that he'd borrowed it from Erik for them, so they could tow the equipment they'd get more easily in the near future. She promptly decided he was better than Merlin by far, and more fun, too.

“Saber! We're coming up on some sort of battle ahead. I can feel my Command Spells resonating, so we've got at least one Servant... but I can't see a thing up ahead. Can you?”

She pulled her head forwards, blinking and then stared. There's a massive war machine, shaped much like a dinosaur, up ahead, having fired something from the cannon on its shoulder. She can't help but grin at the sight of it.

“I think we found that God that Zelretch sent us to back up, Master! Looks like there’s several others too. Two Servants look to be injured badly, and we've got another Saber talking with the war machine that God is in. It's fucking HUGE!”

Mordred stared, in rapt fascination, as a cloud of smoke cleared, showing a long eared witch of some sort, obviously yelling at the machine. Even if she can't make it out over the sound of the engine, she can still see enough to tell that she's mad, and somewhat hurt.

“Oi, Lancer! Come watch this, if you can. Can your abilities penetrate this stuff to see it, too?”

The sound of Scathach's voice was irritated, to say the least. “No, Saber. Not now. Your Master's child is still having major issues with her resurrection, after this long a period of time. Wounded, though?”

“Yeah—looks like one of them is fighting that God we're supposed to be helping out, while the other looks to be...” Mordred paused, frowning, then reached forwards, grabbing at the binoculars that her Master mentioned having. It took a long moment for what her eyes are showing her to register, before she growled softly. “Well, shit. Lady's a poison user of some sort, and the badly hurt one has green running down her eyes instead of tears.”

“Damn it. You'll likely have to use your Noble Phantasm to drive her off then, Saber.” Kairi narrowed his eyes, thinking over what they can't see.

“Hey, Master. Turn on that radio for something nice to listen to while we get there, okay? I need to get much closer to really hurt that poison user without killing the rest.”

Kairi laughed, and turns the radio on. It took only a bit of time before they found something to listen to, as well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPglvthU3jA (Mordred's Song ~ Blind Guardian)

Mordred narrowed her eyes, even as she smiled. “Nice song, Master. What's it about?”

Touko smirked, for a long moment, as she smoked a cigarette. “You, Mordred—it's a band who's singing about Camelot for much of that CD if I recall correctly...”

“Eh?! ME?! That's awesome! I want it as my theme song no—holy crap, what the hell was THAT?!” Mordred stared, wide-eyed, at the sight of a huge pillar of smoke rising up.

“What happened, Saber?” Scathach's voice came to her from behind.

“Lots of tiny things shot out from that big huge metal thing that God is in, and went 'BOOM' in that lady's face! Kicked up a whole lot of smoke, too!”

“Good to know, Saber! Keep watching for more, will you? I don't like how we can't see this going on...”

“It's obvious, isn't it? They're hiding the conflict somehow, in plain sight to keep others from realizing he has that sort of weapon. Anything like that in broad daylight, on a public road, would scare everyone to death, Kairi.”

“Good point. Anything else you can see?”

“Nothing yet... No, she just ran out of the cloud, charred but grinning...? Wait, what the hell? She just made some sort of green shockwave! And now that Archer fellow is screaming, and clutching his hand, where it touched it—looks like it's a NASTY poison, Master!”

“Well, damn. Are we going to get to them in time?” Kairi's voice was stressed. That sort of ability, if it was in an enclosed space would be devastating.

“Looks like the war machine dodged it entirely, so yeah. Not sure what that stuff is, but by how they're screaming it looks like it does horrible stuff to the people, indeed. Huh... Actually I think I met that guy in another summoning, somewhere. I can't remember where, though.”

“Oh? Interesting.”

A loud shockwave of sound hit the truck, making everyone within flinch. “Saber of Black just knocked that poisoner Servant with his Noble Phantasm, Master. Want me to step up and help?”

“Yeah, when you're in range, do it.”

“Gotcha. Good to hear, Master.”

With those words, Mordred reached out the window, grabbing the top half of the massive truck, then pulled herself onto the roof. She can see the Assassin running away from a cloud of smoke, too.

She can't hit Assassin of Red (Or is it Black?) from here. She can, however, hit Saber of Black.

Red lightning crackles around her form, as she adjusts Clarent.

"Clarent!"

Memories of rage. Of being passed over by her father . . .

"Blood!"

Of the look in her father's eyes as she died—not even being able to touch her father in those last few moments!

"ARTHUR!"

The pure hatred for her father roared forwards, turned into a beam of power, carving through air like a hot knife through butter. She dashed after the beam, grinning as the blast landed and exploded.

"Lancer! Help Ruler and Archer of Red, okay partner? I'll help that God fellow drive off Saber of Black like Zelretch wants us to!"

After a few moments however, Mordred's grin faded. She can see the Saber of Black is fine, and running, as well. It's only seconds before he astralized, turning into energy.

"Tch. Damned coward. Oh well, I'll get him later."

Turning, she looked over the battlefield. The blonde was badly hurt, but the Archer was shaking, not even able to scream anymore from whatever poison is in his body. His master, a young brunette, was glaring at him, pleading with him to focus on her, to live on, that she can't lose him like this AGAIN.

Again? That thought lingered in her mind for a bit, as she wondered what that was supposed to mean, before she sighed.

"Use a Command Spell, or Seal, or whatever the hell those things are on your hand, lady."

"Eh?" The brunette turned, blinking.

"I said, use one. Not sure what his ability is, but I vaguely remember something about legendary artifacts? I've only come across him once on the Throne of Heroes... some Chaldea place? Or maybe it was an alternate... Irregardless, if he has something, he should be able to use it."

The girl's eyes widened, before she blinked and nodded while pulling her fist up to show the markings on her hand.

"Archer! By the power of my Command Spell! USE SOMETHING FROM UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS TO ENSURE YOU LIVE!"

Archer's eyes slammed open, as he grimaced, before slowly forming some sort of vial before him. Slowly, in great pain, he pulled open the lid, before drinking from it in one single gulp.

Visibly, he aged BACKWARDS from it, going from a tall man with white hair and steel grey eyes, to a young man with red hair and white streaks, and a far more recognizable set of eyes—looking like an older, wiser, but not THAT much older Shirou Emiya. Visibly, his hair was losing the grey streaks, as he pulled himself up, now-golden-brown eyes studying the people around him.

"Fuck. That worked, it seems."

"Archer... what did you just DO?"

"I pulled out of my ass the one thing that I thought could save me, by aging me backwards. Don't even ask me how I had it, Master. It's embarrassing, and you're going to need ALL of your Command Spells for it."

"...All? Are you sure you want me to test that, Archer?"

"Master. It involves a certain artifact that you keep locked in a chest. As well as its sister artifact."

"Ah—message received, Archer."

"Indeed. I'd rather not deal with Kaleido Ruby and Sapphire AGAIN. That timeline is hell."

"Aha! There it is!" With those words, the massive war machine's mouth swung down, opening.

"Okay, Ruler, wasn't it?” the God they’d been sent to asked rhetorically. “This should help you survive until we can get you to the medical bay on my Wolfen. It's not the stuff I gained for killing Jormungandr, back in the day, as my reward, but it's still pretty potent anti-venom."

With those words, he injected her with a needle. It took a few minutes, but her screams gradually stopped, replaced with quiet whimpering.
"Th...thank you..."

"Of course, Miss Ruler. I'm glad I could help you out, even if I got here too late to do more than drive him and his Servant off."

Hearing those words, Joan of Arc passed out.

"Damn. She passed out. Here's hoping it holds until we get her a better cure..." Erik frowned, looking concerned. "Archer, right? That Godafrid fellow's Servant asked me to come and help out you and your master. Sorry you got clipped, but it's not like I could have saved you without hurting you nearly as BAD."

"No, you're right. You would have hurt me worse with any of the shockwave, considering how many micro missiles you were shooting around. And the alternative was to kick me out of the way. No offense, but I'm not sure I could survive your war machine booting me in the head to try to save me." Archer tried to give a grin, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

"Hah. I get that. Can you tell if any poison's left on anyone's clothes, Archer of Red?"

A long moment passes, as Archer analyzes things, his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing—whatever she used stuck only in the bloodstream for myself, it seems. For Joan of Arc, however... She's covered and COATED in the stuff, clothes and all."

Erik breathed out, his eyes narrowed, as he rubs his temples. Mid-rub, he blinks, at his cell phone calling him.

"Erik here."

"Sir? We've got two of the engines acting up badly, and you used the spare reactor parts on the Valkyrie and its FAST Pack prototype. We've got maybe 5 hours before we have to put the Wolfen back down."

"Damn it, Nestor. I didn't need this right now. Get over here when you can, we need a pickup for one Joan of Arc, Ruler Servant of this War. After that, let's head back to the lake, repair the Wolfen, and figure out our next move."

"Yes Sir. Ah... but can't you use some of the spare Legion of Coal units that were in your War Beast's engine room?"

"...Well, aren't I an idiot? Give me a minute, then."

"Aye, Sir!"

Erik sighed softly, even as he hung up, and continued rubbing his temples. It wasn't long before he started muttering under his breath, "Damn it. Without spare reactor parts, I'm going to have to mill the damned things from scratch, and that's a pain in my ass to get to microscopic precision right now with how hard-pressed I am. Stupid new universe, sealing part of my divinity off..."

Archer chuckled. "Perhaps I can help? My skills for structural analysis might be of use."

Erik paused, and then smiled. "We could come to an agreement, I'm sure; one that fits us both. Wouldn't that be right, Counter Guardian EMIYA? I've got some curious ideas I'd enjoy running past you, anyways."

It wasn't long before the battlefield site was hidden to anyone driving on the road—along with the pot holes, and other issues. Earth Shaping might have taken a bit of his Legend, but it allowed him to fix the asphalt road, as well as the major signs of the battle. There would still be spots where the grass was flattened—he couldn't fix THAT easily—but the signs of damaged earth were simple enough.

A few minutes later, the Wolfen descended, letting them ascend to the belly of the massive Aerial Battleship, Amaterasu having returned once the Wolfen finally arrived. And, at 6 pm, they leave to return to the lake, and repairs.

Author's Notes:
Yes, if you're wondering, Mordred gets a better theme song or two. It's much better than a good chunk of the stuff from Fate Apocrypha, at least. You can thank me later for it.

Not that Knight of Rebellion ISN'T good... I just think Blind Guardian suits Mordred far better, especially considering the song nails her as a tragic figure. Her song in Fate/Apocrypha is just honestly too SHORT.

[Kieran]

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







En route to Trifas, Romania
July 2, 2004








As a member of the Holy Church, Shirou Kotomine was not much given to the use of “foul language,” in the modern vernacular. Cursing was frowned upon, for obvious reasons; the only “oaths” and “swearing” meant to be undertaken were those to God and His Church, and all else was considered blasphemy. Not that it was so onerous a restriction for him, really—even as a living man, so long ago, such practices had never much been part of his vocabulary.

. . . In this particular case, however, he was engaging in voluminous and vehement vituperation, spanning the length and breadth of every language and dialect he’d ever learned.

If the Servant who’d attacked Yggdmillennia was a disaster to his plans, then this outcome of his efforts was the same, grown to (speaking with no little sense of irony) Biblical proportions. He had anticipated that confronting Ruler would be a difficult battle, even two-on-one; the Command Spells the Class was granted made them dangerous enough, never mind adding True Name Discernment, Magic Resistance and Revelation. But he hadn’t expected things to be pushed quite so far as they had been.

If he hadn’t used a Command Spell to allow her Semiramis access to her Noble Phantasm . . . If Semiramis had not had that hydra venom synthesised, and prepared to be aerosolised—and if he had not blessed it . . . That would’ve been the end of his ambitions, right there. But he had blessed the venom, despite his uncertainty regarding God’s opinion of his plans; they had succeeded in downing Ruler, and escaped, though it had cost a number of resources to do so.

Even with Semiramis’ unexpected facility with “Flash Air” magecraft—a carryover from her history of fooling armies through disguise, it seemed—creating believable proxies to carry their consciousnesses to the battlefield, and concealing that fact, was not easy. Nor was hiding them from the senses of so many magi and Servants, as they “withdrew” from the battlefield; they were fortunate that most there were distracted, either by being affected by the venom, or tending to those who had been.

It seemed clear that God was on his side, to Shirou’s relief. However, it seemed equally clear that He intended to test Shirou, as His prophets and saints always were, as well—and that was far less reassuring.

Particularly since this test could be boiled down to a single question: how?

How had they found him—or Ruler, for that matter? The Red Faction was not, despite his efforts, a cohesive unit (preferably under his control), and had no reason to be suspicious of him. Ruler’s operating as an independent unit, in addition to her natural Magic Resistance, should have kept her from being easily targeted; he had managed only because the magecraft he used was sourced in the sacraments of the Holy Church to which she had been canonised. Short of another Executor in the Red Faction, no other should have been able to find her.

. . . Which implied that either one of the Servants he’d encountered had Clairvoyance to a ridiculous degree, or that they were tracking him.

But Servants with Clairvoyance—particularly to the level that would be necessary to be so well-informed—were notoriously hard to cause harm to. They literally saw attacks coming, often long before they’d even been decided on. However, given the degree of damage almost all the Servants there had taken, the idea of one of them having Clairvoyance seemed a mistaken assumption; surely the seer would’ve avoided the poison, since they undoubtedly knew of its presence?

And that meant that it was likely the latter possibility: that they were tracking him. But if so, why, when he hadn’t done anything yet?

Shirou was not a stupid man. Was he determined? Absolutely, and zealously invested in his beliefs, but a stupid man would not have endured for seventy years in the modern world for the chance to accomplish what he was now undertaking. And already, when it was barely two days old, he could see what had begun as the Great Holy Grail War in the process of turning into—something else. Something he was not entirely certain he liked the shape of.

Nor was he as certain of his victory.

The venom will likely eliminate Ruler—magic resistant she may be, but the Hydra’s poison was puissant enough to cripple a demigod of Herakles’ calibre, and cause immortals such as the centaur Chiron to wish to die. For all her grace, Ruler’s host is neither; as a pure spirit, she might have endured even the venom, but that poor mortal girl . . .

It was not pleasant to think about, but Shirou would not be so heartless as to dismiss the sacrifice. Necessary it might have been, but should he fall so far as to enjoy such an act . . .

Regardless, with Ruler out of the way, he might yet assume her place—but the revelation of his intentions, even partially, would set both Factions against him. The Hanging Gardens was nearly done, which would grant him a base of operations that would be difficult to attack (though judging by the mecha, not impossible), and hopefully the means to seize the Greater Grail for himself . . .

But he was no longer certain that the Gardens alone would be sufficient.

Shirou decided that he required a few more cards than he had; the proverbial “ace” might prove impossible, but the right card, played at the right time, could be just as effective as an actual trump. That had, after all, been the reasoning behind his attempt to co-opt the other Servants of Red in the first place—a plan which, it seemed, had failed wholesale, even if he now had suspicions as to the reason . . .

Clearly, whoever or whatever is behind this was working against me long before I became aware of their existence—possibly even before the War began . . .

Shirou’s brow furrowed. That criterion made the list of possibilities very short, and it was not exactly a lengthy one to begin with. To have begun working so far back against him, to so thoroughly upset his plans, this mysterious opponent would have needed to be aware of not only his plans, but his nature—

He mentally pulled up short. Is it possible that Darnic knows who I am?

Almost immediately, Shirou dismissed the possibility. It was the only one that made sense, in that context; Darnic was the other survivor of the Fuyuki Grail War, the only one who might recall enough, even through the self-inflicted mutilations to the magus’ being, to recognise him. But while the culprit might make sense, the methodology did not. If Darnic was aware of him, never mind his plans, he’d simply have sent the full force of Yggdmillennia against him—or, if he’d been unsure of the Servants’ chances against a potential Ruler, simply told the Church the truth about him. While certain factions weren’t against using a being like him, after all, he never would’ve been allowed such a loose leash . . .

But if it wasn’t Darnic, then who—or what—was he up against?

. . . Would the Counter Force move against me? Shirou mused.

On the surface of it, it seemed ridiculous—as ridiculous as a Norse demigod building giant mecha and participating in a Holy Grail War, admittedly, so perhaps not all that far-fetched—but unlike Darnic, the methodology fit. Unless the situation was dire enough to require the intervention of a Counter Guardian (at which point “Trifas” would’ve become uttered in the same breath as “Atlantis” or “Pompeii”), it would simply nudge a chosen pawn in the direction it could do the most good, according to the Counter Force’s reckoning. The most prominent example of such in history was Joan of Arc (which Shirou found darkly amusing, at the moment . . .).

Unfortunately, the Counter Force as the culprit suffered from the opposite problem of the “Darnic as the culprit” scenario: where the methodology might fit, the motive eluded him. He sought to create a world without pain or suffering, where humanity would live forever, regardless of the whims of the literally uncaring world. If anything, the fulfillment of his plans ought to be Alaya’s dearest wish . . .

And that leaves a third, as-yet-unknown party responsible for this mess—how frustrating.

All of which was a line of reasoning that led back to the importance of stacking the deck as much as he possibly could. Sadly, co-opting the Red Faction no longer seemed likely—and he doubted that Saber of Black or his Master would speak favourably of him should he attempt to join the Black Faction. Not that Shirou really thought any such attempt would succeed, or he would have done so already. But while his options for improving his odds in a conflict on the scale of the Holy Grail War were indeed slim, they were not yet non-existent. After all, he had been tracking the summoning of Servants for both sides, using the overseer’s rituals—and while all Servants had been summoned, there was still a stray, summoned outside of Trifas, who had not yet joined the battle.

It was time, Shirou decided, while Semiramis finished constructing the Gardens, to seek out Assassin of Black . . .








Battleship Wolfen
En route to Sighișoara, Romania








The metaphysical possibilities inherent in conversing with Erik and Tamamo kept nagging at Godafrid. Primarily because of the fact that, given her epic-level social acumen, Tamamo could and would smell a lie—and she hadn’t so much as blinked at anything he’d said.

Now granted, he’d tried to avoid lying for just that reason, and it was certainly possible that she’d simply concealed her reactions; again epic-level social acumen. The kitsune literally could sell sand to desert-dwellers, if she wanted to—and then convince them that it really hadn’t been her idea to do it if they ever figured out they’d been cheated.

(In point of fact, it had gotten really annoying that the party’s answer to any social challenge he threw at them had been “Throw the NPC at it.”)

But by the same token, if anyone knew her tells (other than Erik, of course), it would be him; he’d designed her, after all. And not so much as a hair had been out of place throughout that conversation in regards to any of his responses—not regarding their veracity, at least. Their content, sure, but from all appearances, Tamamo seemed certain that he was telling the truth.

. . . Which, of course, begs the question—was I?

XX knew something, obviously—she was so much easier to read, it was ridiculous—and her reactions to certain statements . . .

Godafrid shuddered. Krampus wasn’t a terrible identity, precisely, but he wasn’t exactly the sort of entity the Works would want to have around. The version he’d created in Scion wasn’t quite the kid-terrifying version of myth; instead, Krampus existed under the philosophy that those who deserved punishment would get it—and very little was considered “off-limits” . . .

The fact that he also had literally epic ugliness and a general appearance similar to a Satanic satyr wasn’t something he wanted to live with, either.

And then there’s the fact that he’s the nice one, when compared to his liege and lady.

(As the Scion: Ragnarok book put it, “Anyone who thinks Hel is just a lonely little girl deep inside has been watching too many John Hughes movies.”)

And of course, there were the effects of the recent release of Scion Second Edition to consider; he’d been burned by that problem once already . . .

Shaking his head, Godafrid set that existential crisis aside for the moment; there were other, more immediate and definitely more dangerous things to consider.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialled a number and said, in as level a tone as possible, “Fiore, sweetheart? When, exactly, were you going to tell me about the planet-killing doohickey in your basement . . .?”

“Godafrid?” Fiore answered, startled. Then, after processing his question, she asked with some confusion, “. . . Did you actually just use the word—‘doohickey?’”

“Yes, I called it a doohickey,” he replied, wincing as it came out more sharply than he’d intended. Still, he couldn’t quite tone it down as he added, “The technical jargon I use is less important the planet-killing part, don’t you think?”

He could practically hear Fiore’s wince over the phone. “I suppose that’s true . . . To be honest, we’re not entirely sure what to do about it; there is always the possibility that it’s a scare tactic, after all—”

“It’s not,” Frid assured her. “I can read micro-expressions and quite a few subtle physiological reactions, and when I was told about it, it was the truth.”

“. . . Oh, dear,” Fiore responded with a sigh. “Well, Grandfather will want to know about that, too. Is . . .” He could picture her face as she hesitated, “Is there anything else you’ve learned about the other faction?”

“Still working on it,” he said blithely. “I’m good, sweetheart, but far short of being a miracle worker . . .” He sighed. “I really don’t like you being at ground zero for a planet-killing effect, Fiore.”

“ . . . If it really is that bad,” she said solemnly, “then I imagine ‘ground zero’ covers all of Trifas, if not Romania itself.”

That was (terrifyingly) true enough—a “safe distance” probably qualified as a different hemisphere, and probably not for long. Short of having Avalon itself handy, or getting Ilya to open a Door to roll Fiore (and her brother, naturally), there was nowhere that actually could be considered “safe.”

Frid sighed. Damn it all . . .

“Take every precaution you can, and be careful,” he said at last. “Please.”

“Of course—” Fiore cut off suddenly, and he tensed.

“And, on the subject of being careful . . .” she continued, after a brief hesitation, and in a lower volume. “Frid, we’ve lost contact with our Master of Assassin—and the agents sent looking for him. I suspect that something has gone very wrong . . .”

“I’ll keep both eyes open,” he assured her.

“It might not help,” she admitted. “You see, our Master was fairly intent on summoning Jack the Ripper . . .”

“Oh, dear,” Frid sighed, honestly. He’d pretty much expected it, but at the same time . . . In some ways, it was reassuring to have at least one side of this thing follow the canon storyline—but this part, he could’ve done without.

“To put it mildly,” Fiore agreed. “We’ll still keep looking, of course, but there’s a distinct possibility that we have either a rogue Master, or Servant.”

“The Assassin Class isn’t noted for Independent Action, so it’s likely contracted to someone,” he pointed out. “If not your assigned Master, then it’s either someone who was there at the time and place of summoning, or not far from it—I’d start searching for traces of the event, and missing persons’ reports filed from around that time.”

“Good advice, thank you,” she said pleasantly.

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of that,” he admitted, “but it’s the best strategy I can come up with on the spur of the moment.”

Her blush was somehow audible over the phone. “It’s still nice to have confirmation that I’m thinking in the right direction—you do have more experience in this sort of thing, after all—and . . . It’s, well, it’s nice to know we think alike.”

It was reassuring to have some proof of their compatibility; particularly since this “arranged marriage” was a pre-existing condition that had been dropped on him.

“I should go,” Fiore said hurriedly, undoubtedly embarrassed. “Do what you can to stay safe in all this, Frid.”

“You too,” he said, adding, before really thinking about it, “Love you.”

He had just enough time to hear an “Eh?!” before he hung up the phone—and then when he’d actually said registered.

Did I really just say—

Nope—I am not thinking about this now. I’m going back to considering safer things, like metaphysical existential crises, and lost divine relics that could poten—

Frid stopped. When they’d first met, and Erik had mistaken him for his game counterpart, the Aesir engineer had apologised for losing his sword, hadn’t he . . .? And he’d meant Krampus’ sword—more specifically, the Sword of Atli, which had been stolen from Loki . . .

. . . And was historically known as the sword of Attila the Hun—which, in TYPE-MOON lore, meant—

“. . . Oh, bloody hell,” Frid muttered.








Millennia Fortress
Trifas, Romania








“ . . . WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘IT’S GONE?!’”

[Xamusel]

Kieran, you have a second Chapter 23, which follows the Chapter 23 of RanmaBushiko's side of things.