The Manhattan Project II

[Sherrinford]

I don't even know where to start.

"You seriously thought that was supposed to be even one bit serious?"

Ah well, if you fell better now... who_cares.jpg

[Five_X]

Next chapter has the perspective of just the generals. Chapter after that is almost entirely Enrico and El Cid.

[Five_X]

Here's another chapter, an update for once! Hooray! It's also one of the shortest chapters you'll see in this for a long while, but it really doesn't need to be any longer than it is.

At the same time, though, I can't shake the feeling that it's too sparse... I don't know. You people can make up your own opinions on it, eh?

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CHAPTER LI

In the wide courtyard of the mansion, the sounds of clattering armour could be heard as the six generals took their places, three by three, on either side of the space. The elegant, trickling fountain stood between them, a grey shape in the night; while any other time spent in this garden may have been used to admire the scenery, this was the eve of a grand battle, and the hearts of all the Servants gathered were astir with thoughts of returning to their old ways.


It had been years since any of them had seen the dawn of a true battle, with two united armies standing upon either edge of a great field, with loyal soldiers following the every order of their steadfast leaders, no matter where they were told to march. It was a feeling that couldn't be ignored, and more than anything the generals themselves were restless, and this was noticed by their Masters.


In the quiet of the mansion's courtyard, far from the lights and sounds of the city, no one but these few people could bear witness to this coming battle.


On one side, Alexander, Moctezuma and Saber were standing together with their Masters a few feet away, and they kept to their own circle, eyeing with suspicion the other alliance of three.


“My legions should take the right flank.” Saber said with a nod, slapping her hand down onto the hilt of her gladius.


Alexander had his arms crossed, his lips forming a sneer he didn't bother to hide. “The right flank? What about the left? Rightly you would position my own forces in the middle to create a strong core, but then soon enough would wheel about and attempt to crush my soldiers in between the advancing enemies rolling up our left!”


“Then situate yourself to the left!” Tonight, Saber had hardly any patience for this man, and she quite deliberately stepped back from him each time he moved a little forward.


“I am the leader of this army!” He beat his fist against his armoured chest, making the buckles rattle lightly. “I will lead by example and take the centre, with my peltasts in the middle, heavy infantry veterans behind, and cavalry spread out to either flank, behind your armies.” He pointed directly at Moctezuma, then Saber, glaring them both right in the eyes. Moctezuma hardly showed any reaction.


Saber scoffed, shaking her head in blase disappointment. “Alexander, you are not fit to be a leader of anything if your current mental state is an indication of your intelligence! You are too reckless, too full of a desire to prove yourself to no one of importance. We are individual generals – though Moctezuma could hardly count for that – and it is our duty to attend to our own forces.”


“I say we have Moctezuma slip through our ranks from behind as we advance forward, meeting the enemy unexpectedly and forcing them into a melee. That will tangle up their front ranks and their infantry, allowing my cavalry to slip behind and act as the hammer to that anvil.” Alexander waved away the previous discussion, turning to something more productive.

-- --

“We will crush them under our boot heels, smelling the glory of our black powder as they perish, routing only to hell!” Nobunaga shouted far too loudly for his own good, placing his hands on his hips and letting out a deep, powerful laugh. Nothing he said or did so far reflected any skill on his part, but the other two members of this trinity were etching out their own strategy.


Napoleon nodded, hand on his chin, thinking for a while about the forces that he recalled would be on his side. “Hannibal,” he said, turning his attention to the Carthaginian man, “you have elephants, do you not? I imagine they could be quite useful in our manoeuvres, perhaps making a strong frontal shock that will loosen up the enemy lines.”


Hannibal understood the suggestion, scratching his beard as he thought of what problems could arise. “That could work, but you have to remember that while Moctezuma will have never seen elephants before, Alexander fought a number of them in India, and Saber should have a strong knowledge of classical Roman tactics – including the simple solution of driving lanes to avoid charging elephants, as happened at Zama.”


“Ah, yes... you are quite right with that, my friend.” In his mind Napoleon checked through the various forces his own army contained, and then he snapped his fingers, a light returning to his eyes. “That reminds me, actually: as I recall, the Indians just beyond my time had their own strategies with elephants, created as a reaction to British imperialistic developments bringing modern cannon and shot to their lands...” He explained a unique method he had discerned and based on his occasional nod and wry smile, Hannibal was impressed. He tapped the blunt end of his spear on the ground, and turned to face Nobunaga, who despite his attitude was standing at attention, listening in with care.


One hand slipped to the long rifle hanging from his belt. That same hand felt along the carefully crafted wood surface of the weapon, his fingertips just brushing past the firing mechanisms, feeling the cold relief of the metal.


“Ha, you're forgetting that these fools lack artillery and gunfire of their own!” The Japanese man drew his rifle much like a fine sword, pointing it straight ahead at the wall of the mansion before him. “Your own soldiers, Napoleon, should be able to work with mine to create a firing zone in front of any oncoming forces, decimating them like fish caught in a net. If they flank us with cavalry, the heavy infantry divisions of Hannibal's army should be able to deal with them, and any polearm wielders will be weakened before a charge of my own samurai. To win this battle, we shouldn't have to move at all!” He laughed wildly, enjoying his own plots, and though they thought the man strange and careless, Napoleon and Hannibal had to admit that he had some intelligence.


Whether or not that intelligence would prove useful on the battlefield would have to be seen.


Napoleon glanced aside at the three rivals to his group, hearing their shouts and insults, mostly between Alexander and Saber with Moctezuma as a silent intermediary. The sight made him sneer; he thought those two, at least, could be better generals and would show some decorum, but as it was they could hardly control themselves.


“Look at those fools,” said Napoleon, nodding his head in their direction. “There is Saber, distraught and overwhelmed by her own emotions even at the edge of a battle, and Alexander forgetting his place as a general and leaning on his authority as a king. Then, the third of them, that dark-skinned man, he is a king, too. Two kings think they can face actual generals; we should destroy those dreams of theirs with our own force.”


A hint of curiosity in his eyes, Hannibal addressed his ally. “You hate kings? Were you ever assaulted by monarchal power, Napoleon? I thought you yourself were named an emperor.”


He nodded. “Yes, but unlike them, I rose to my station through merit and charisma, earning my place of power. Even the French people, in love with democracy after the fall of the old kings, bowed before their emperor and first consul, Napoleon Bonaparte. Those kings, though...” He narrowed his eyes, seeing in the place of Alexander and Moctezuma the very image of fat, self-serving nobles, self-serving authority that existed only for their own benefit. “They ascend to power by birth, and make of that what they will. I know not much about Moctezuma, but of what I have heard I can hardly have a favourable opinion. He was a man who became king after his father, just like any other, and just like so many others he ran that power into the ground. Not only is he a king, he is a failure of a king.”


“I agree.” Hannibal held more tightly onto his spear, feeling tense as though the battle had already started. In a way, it had. “In Carthage, there were nobles of many kinds, who elected each other and kept out those who would threaten their positions. It was the love of the people, and not the love of the ruling class, that allowed me to take Carthage under my power as leader; I showed what a good administrator could do for my land, and then Romans were frightened once more. Even though my wars against them were over, the nobles of Carthage had me exiled.”


The sneer on Napoleon's face now had a new subject. “They forced you from your home because you were the only one who could aid it. What sycophantic cowards they must have been, crawling to Rome and bowing before them like vassals. No proud, powerful ruler would do such a thing, be they a Shophet of Carthage or an Emperor of France.”


Then, the two shared a mutual nod and clasped hands like brothers. They had unity, what their foes lacked, and then they would show the two kings the strength and grandeur of those who had truly earned their places in history.

-- --

“In truth, I know little at all of Moctezuma's forces.” Saber shrugged, not seeing this as particularly devastating. She was mostly fine with letting the men fight as they wished, so long as they didn't get in the path of her own tactics.


That statement was simple, and planned. Moctezuma wasn't the sort of man who spoke often, but when he did it gave Saber strong insights into the man behind that stoic mask. For example, whenever he made a note of one of the types of soldiers in his army, he went on about their cultural and social significance. There was no desire to spread information there; Saber could tell that Moctezuma was quite subtly hiding his own ulterior motives, appearing to offer mere explanations of his forces but in reality emphasizing the grand qualities and the bloody qualities of his culture and people, asserting dominance through raw means. It was something Saber herself had seen many, many times before.


Still, though, she also used that baiting question of hers to get some time to detach from the conversation, listening superficially. Every so often she glanced over at James, who was hardly speaking at all, either glaring at Dietrich who casually sucked on a cigarette or staying a good distance away from Eleanor, who seemed to be pleasantly enjoying her garden even at night.


She wondered from afar what the little girl would think when she finally saw blood.


Saber frowned, feeling a sort of hesitance overcome her when she thought of James. She shook her head and ignored it, mentally chastising herself for even bothering with the man who seemed hardly interested in paying attention to her. If she could rely on no one and trust no one, then she would allow herself to take responsibility for all of her actions. Regardless of what Alexander believed to be the best strategic manoeuvres, Saber knew that tactics would change as soon as the battlefield was looming in sight.


The idea came to her, at last, that perhaps it would be smart to simply engage in direct battle with her foes. As a Saber-class Servant, her own strength and fighting ability was definitely greater than those gathered, but the addition of armies made this a wild card sort of battle. At their best, a strong army such as Saber's could overwhelm many Heroic Spirits, especially those suited to direct combat. Saber's place, she believed, was on the battlefield, not directing the fight from safety but in the heat of battle, sweating and cutting down foes just as any man in her army.


“This is enough!” Alexander raised one hand, palm outward, his voice booming and loud enough to catch the attention of even the three other generals, rousing them from their own deep thoughts. They had to fight eventually, and the anticipation was growing greater each moment.


He nodded, checking to see that all eyes were on his figure. He truly did seem larger than life, exuding some aura of power and charisma that couldn't be ignored in the slightest. To James, his charisma was even greater than that of Saber, and the grand conqueror seemed like a perfect marble statue come to life: he was a true hero, so he seemed just from his appearance.


“This is enough.” repeated Alexander, looking over the small crowd. He stepped forward once, then again, getting closer to the fountain until he was right at its base; one more stride and he would be on the raised edge of it, giving a speech from a makeshift podium. “The battle shall begin, and there will be no mercy, and no escape! All those Servants who have the power to command armies will be drawn into my reality marble, even if they are greatly distant, so do not even attempt to retreat now!”


He crossed his arms again, his bare skin pressed against cool bronze that reflected in the bright electric lights in the corners of the courtyard. “We will fight until there is a victor, and in order to allow this battle to reach the scale necessary for our own egos, I will have the landscape of my reality marble imitate an exaggerated form of this city and surrounding areas, made into a great and rocky land much like those battlefields I toiled through for so many years.”


He didn't even care for Eleanor's input; the only reason he and the other Servants had obeyed her was due to their own growing desire to finally see this grand battle end, bringing it to a close after waiting what seemed like months. Just as that campaign was over, another one would begin, and the generals couldn't possibly be more prepared.


Or at least, that was what they thought.


The Masters stood beside their Servants, and as Alexander stood tall in the centre of the courtyard a light expanded from him, and dust kicked up around the whole space, until it enveloped the entirety of the mansion and the people there had all disappeared.



---------------------------

And away they go, down the rabbit hole. Next chapter puts a bit of a spin on this, though... you'll see!

I hope it was nice, and I'll say now that I have an omake I'll post sometime tomorrow! I actually wrote it months and months ago, but it only could be posted right at this point. It amuses me highly.

Another interesting fact: The Manhattan Project II has just passed a whopping 200,000 words total! It's big, indeed, but to all of those out there who might read this, it's definitely worth it! I'm not entirely sure, but I'm willing to say that the story is nearly halfway done, if not past that already. I've got a sort of "grand outline" made up and everything is proceeding as planned.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, even though it was really short!

Edit: Mass Effect post, yay!

[Spinach]

This is so small that it's almost impossible to comment on! Well, Nobunaga is rapidly growing cooler than all of the other generals. Moctezuma keeps showing hints that he's cool, but he's not in the spotlight enough to show his coolness. Also,

Saber knew that tactics would change as soon as the battlefield looming in sight.

:3

And of course, HOLY SHIT 200,000 words. You are either a monster, a robot, or a monster robot.

[Highwayman]

I take a break from Type-Moon / Beast's Lair for a couple of months, and Five's epic tale grows exponentially while I wasn't looking. Now for the fun of catching up...

Also, glad to see that Monty's still alive and kicking.

[SeiKeo]

Well, grapeshot is going to be hilarious here.

[kilopi505]

Well...as a fan of war novels...I WILL BE WAITING.

[Five_X]

I take a break from Type-Moon / Beast's Lair for a couple of months, and Five's epic tale grows exponentially while I wasn't looking. Now for the fun of catching up...

Also, glad to see that Monty's still alive and kicking.

Aaaaahhhh Chacho, give me your awesome super comment analysis! I hunger for more!

^ and huzzah, a new reader! Good to see you here, indeed!

[Five_X]

Now, time for the omake! It's a song parody, of course, and one I wrote a long while ago. I think you'll all enjoy it. :P

------------------------

BE A MAN

ALEXANDER:

Let's get down to business,
To defeat, the French!
Why'd they send me Aztecs,
And a Ro-man wench?

I was mad as hell when we first met,
And I won't let, this girl be true!
Caesar I'll, make a man,
Out of you!

Tranquil as a forest,
But on fire, within:
I am Alexander;
We are sure, to win!

You're so fine and frail;
I cannot stand,
A land you're ruling, too,
So now I'll, make a man,
Out of you!

MOCTEZUMA: I'm gonna bring about his death,

PTOLEMY: Say good-bye to those who knew him!

PHILIP: Yeah, he's quite the foolish tool for acting so!

-

SELEUKOS: Alex there better hold his breath,

CAESAR: Now he's asking for one less limb!

HEPHAESTION: Now I kinda wish that she'd just up and go,

HETAIROI: (BE A MAN!)


ALEXANDER:

She must be rid of her weakly gender,
(BE A MAN!)
Take on the force of a great, big man!
(BE A MAN!)
Or there's a husband that I could lend her;
I'm serious here, I say this 'cause I caaaaa-n!

Time is racing t'ward us,
'Til the French, all die!
Heed my every order,
And then please, don't try!

You're unsuited for,
this manly chore,
So pack up, go home, cook stew!
Why should I, make a man,
Out of you?

(BE A MAN!)
She must be rid of her weakly gender,
(BE A MAN!)
Take on the force of a great, big man!
(BE A MAN!)
Or there's a husband that I could lend her;
I'm serious here, I say this 'cause I caaaaa-n!

(BE A MAN!)
She must be rid of her weakly gender,
(BE A MAN!)
Take on the force of a great, big man!
(BE A MAN!)
Or there's a husband that I could lend her;
I'm serious here, I say this 'cause I caaaaa-n!

END!














CAESAR: Wow, you really are an idiot.


-----------------------

And thus, the plot of MPII was turned into Mulan. Poor Caesarko.

[Spinach]

I sang along to it, mainly because I sing that song pretty much daily and couldn't help myself. Second best omake so far.

[Five_X]

I sang along to it, mainly because I sing that song pretty much daily and couldn't help myself. Second best omake so far.

:O

Second best??

[Spinach]

Christmas is still numbah one.

[SeiKeo]

CAESAR: Wow, you really are an idiot.

YES

[Five_X]

Christmas is still numbah one.

True, true. It had Gilgamesh nostalgia and fun times.

^ Happy that Alexander is being insulted? :P

[SeiKeo]

Happy that she has a clue.

[Five_X]

Don't worry, she gets plenty more sex soon enough. Of course, what happens when she meets someone whose own strategies are similar to hers...?

[SeiKeo]

They both outflank each other? 69

[Five_X]

They both outflank each other? 69

Well, let's just say Caesar gets engaged from behind~

[Spinach]

bow chika bow wow

[Sherrinford]

I get the impression that the generals will all defeat each other, and the last showdown will be about the sole survivors still able to fight. MONTY AND NOBU.

By the way, these teams are pretty lulz-y. I just hope Alexander and Caesarko wouldn't keep quarreling during the fight too.

"I will have the landscape of my reality marble imitate an exaggerated form of this city and surrounding areas, made into a great and rocky land much like those battlefields I toiled through for so many years.”

Eh. I'm not sure Reality Marbles work that way.

Now, time for the omake! It's a song parody, of course, and one I wrote a long while ago. I think you'll all enjoy it. :P

In fact, I enjoyed it so much, one of his lines gave me an idea...

I think I know why Caesarko was summoned as a woman.

WHAT FIVE_X'S CHARACTERS WOULD NEVER SAY.

Greater Grail: "... and this James guy wants to summon the vewy famous woman genewal, Julius Caesaw. Make it so, Lessew Gwail."

Lesser Grail: "Just a moment... and done! OH NOOOO-!!"