The Manhattan Project II

[Lycodrake]

But does this Lancer have a decent Luck stat? XD

[Five_X]

It's higher than E, at least. :P

[Spinach]

Were you rushing and/or tired while writing some parts of this, Five? You don't usually make more than 1-2 mistakes a chapter...

In respond, Nobunaga smiled again, closing

who lived thousands of years in the past, int eh age of humanity's grandeur

I can hardly that I hate him, though; he's a Servant, and I am a Master.

together to achieve our own goals Personal feelings should really have no place in this.”

Anyway, I'll read the smaller sidestory chapter later today. Of course, you already know my complete, honest thoughts on the current arc, so I'll save myself from textwalling right now since I'm pretty tired. It felt like you took some of the things I said into consideration for this chapter, especially the last scene with Saber alone in the tent.

[Five_X]

who lived thousands of years in the past, int eh age of humanity's grandeur

Yeah, this line's off; it needs to channel more Indrick Boreale, I think.

"Who liffed towsends of yeas in deh pass, in deh age of hoomanity's grandeer"

That should be better. And yes, no need for textwalling; however, others should do so! So few comments on the chapter, profile and new story, it's sad. ;__;

I definitely try to work any and all feedback into the story, of course.

[Fancy Face the First]

I'm sorry Five, I was too busy trying to get over my wrist-slitting phobia.

Ughhhhhhhhh...So much blood...Spurting because it opened a vein or artery...Ughhhhh...

[Five_X]

Johana is delicious to write. Of course, you won't get her Master profile yet since it (yes, it's already made) contains a hefty amount of spoilers, but... I think you people will find her quite appropriate to the Nasuverse.

Her Servant is the one Caster (the poster, not the Servant :P) was asking questions about earlier, with the Fire Emblem faceclaim I put up.

[Mattias]

I think you people will find her quite appropriate to the Nasuverse.

So sexual abuse, or OMGWTF Reality Hax powers?

[Five_X]

So sexual abuse, or OMGWTF Reality Hax powers?

Maybe both. Maybe neither. :3

[Mattias]

Maybe both. Maybe neither. :3

But that's all I think of when I think Nasuverse appropriate plot points. Oh, unless you mean sex scenes with weird food metaphors in it.....

[Five_X]

Well, there are a few parts of the story where more typical elements of the Nasuverse (seen best so far with Roderick, actually, and thanks for that one Spin!) show up, and Johana is involved with some of those. Of course, she's not the only one.

And no, I don't mean seafood metaphors. :P

[Five_X]

More of Johana, and also they get into a fight and see some events you may remember from the first few chapters. Sadly, Johana's a character who (while pretty awesome combat-wise) works a lot better with dialogue, so I'm going to have to add that in the next few updates to her story. You should get a better idea of her when it's daytime and there has to be non-fighting stuff going on.

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

Invocation the 2^nd

They didn't waste any time getting out of the initial location of the summoning. There had been a lot of light, and even in the carefully considered location of the abandoned forest would let out some of the glow. Any enterprising Master would keep an eye out for those sorts of signs of any of their opponents.


And Johana, it could be said, was one of those enterprising Masters.


No other lights gave themselves away, not immediately. But, one by one, a few could be seen in the vicinity of Arlington and Washington itself, the host city of this mock war. One was out on a popular bridge, another was in an Arlington residency, and one more was in the shadow of the great Washington Monument, so tall and imposing that it could be seen from the eastern shore of Roosevelt Island where Johana and her Servant stood.


“Where should we go, Master?” asked her Servant, the blunt end of his spear sticking into the soft ground beneath their feet, gripped and ready to strike out at any coming foe.


“Where should we go?” Johana pursed her lips, and stared out at the city skyline, obscured as it was by trees whose leaves had barely begun to show. “Arlington seems to be the right destination. If we can make it to the bridge north of here, we could make a chokepoint: Masters and their Servants would take the path of least resistance, and they would travel over or near that bridge. An ambush would then be in short order, and with the advantage even a strong team could be brought down by the two of us. A display of power on the first night would be... rather magnificent, I think.” She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and looked over at her Servant. He showed no objection to her plan, but at the same time offered no advice.


Johana tried to stare the man in the eyes, but his gaze was distracted and distant. “Lancer?” He heard his name – more of a title, but it was one he accepted as his name – and locked gazes with his Master. Just like his hair, his eyes were a vivid, optimistic blue.


“I must ask you this: what is your identity? I should know, as it would improve my own understanding of your capabilities.” She didn't offer a smile; she just stared at him with her cold, grey eyes, contrasting the light in his.


He shook his head, leaning on his spear a little. “I... have to say, that I cannot do that, Master.” The look in his eyes turned more downcast, forlorn. “I admit it's a detriment to you, but for the betterment of you and I my true name should stay hidden.”


Her first response was a cruel, mocking laugh. “Oh, not trusting me, are you? As expected of a Heroic Spirit, and smart. I would never tell my true name to someone I could not trust to a sufficiently great degree. The world as it is doesn't allow for honesty.”


“So, your name is not Johana Zloduh, then?” Lancer was curious, his attention fully on his Master and not his surroundings, for once.


Again, she laughed. “Yes, yes it is.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can trust you, since you are a Servant. If I am killed, then so are you, and any wish you may have is ruined, as is your chance at this Holy Grail. Those things just go in tandem. Of course, since your identity is important to understanding your powers, an enemy could potentially discover it through me, and that would carry the chance of defeating us both. From now on, I am Johana, but you are merely Lancer.”


He bowed, accepting the resolution his Master had come to without question. “I am completely at your command, Master. I am glad, though, that you allow my identity to be a secret. I doubt that I'll ever reveal it, and I will tell you now that my powers are hardly a hint to my identity.”


“I am in luck, then.” Johana mused, and then turned her back on Lancer just as soon as she had been speaking to him.


Being on an island, of course, they had one predicament that stopped them from going on immediately: there was no easy way to get to Washington or Arlington, other than the highway bridge that ran across the Potomac. They couldn't make their presence obvious, but at the same time had to get moving before the sun rose.


Johana scoffed, frowning at the murky river that lightly rushed against her shoes, cold on her bare skin. It was a sensation she barely even noticed, but the problem of the water was clear. Even a magus like her would have trouble with easily stepping across a running river, and the Potomac was no mild body of water.


“Come with me.” Lancer said those few words in a hushed tone, offering his hand as he looked at Johana. She glanced suspiciously at his outstretched hand, and tentatively grasped it, their palms even and Johana's fingers holding tight to Lancer's skin. He seemed to have a solution, and Johana readied herself to get moving. She didn't know why he wanted to hold her, but she offered him this much trust, for now.


As if it was anything ordinary, Lancer stepped forward, starting off slow.


Instead of sinking into the water or being moved by it at all, his feet were level and steady on the surface of the river, barely even interrupting the water's flow. Reluctantly, Johana pressed a foot toe-first onto the water, feeling the cold liquid sink into the bottom of her shoe. Just like Lancer, though, her step was made as if the water was a solid surface, and she found that with Lancer's aid she could walk rather freely on the river.


It was an exhilarating thing to go through, calmly crossing the Potomac on foot, but Johana just showed a small, curious smile, directing it at her own feet and not at her Servant. This was something only insane people would normally attempt. Perhaps her own psyche was twisted, to allow her body to even react to attempting this.


She felt light, and walking on the water was like walking on air, loose and free with no hard surface below, only a sense that this shouldn't have been happening.


When they had circled around the island, treating it like nothing but a stroll, they touched down on the shore of Arlington, the whole city before them, masked by hundreds of buildings of all sorts. Johana had investigated the layout of the area before she was sent here, and she knew of the few familiar landmarks around: the interstate highway, and the Arlington National Cemetery, the latter making her genuinely intrigued; she always loved graveyards and the ritual of burying lifeless, empty corpses. It made her wonder what was worth more: the body, or the soul. People, she'd found, seemed to prefer the former.


The shore was lined with trees, gnarled sycamores among them, and past that was a long, empty parkway. Streetlights barely managed to clear the area up, only casting eerie shadows on the opposite side of the road. Johana stopped and glanced at a sign that said in bold, black letters, “Road Work Ahead” and she no sign of anything going on to her left or to her right.


She imagined her Servant couldn't exactly fly, so she walked along the parkway, off the lanes and halfway in the bushes, keeping a low profile. Her Servant followed suit, his bright armour a contrast to the gloom of the old trees.


“The Key bridge is ahead,” she noted, drawing up her arm and pointing towards the structure that appeared in the dim light. “We can climb a ridge near there and get a good view of our surroundings. There shouldn't be many Masters around yet, but I could be mistaken.”


Lancer nodded, otherwise silent and obedient. Though his weapons and armour seemed bulky and a hindrance, they were soundless as he traipsed through the grass beside the parkway, while even Johana's measured steps crunched against fallen twigs every so often, making her wince each time the perfect silence was broken.


There is stood, old and worn but strong, untouched tonight by traffic.


But, as it seemed, Johana's earlier judgement was mistaken: at least two people could be spotted on their side of the bridge, walking slowly, eyes straight forward; one stopped and put his hand on the railing at his left, then continued on. Johana felt a pressing sense of being watched from afar, and not by a casual viewer. Something bigger than expected was going on, and she narrowed her eyes as they stayed locked on the bridge above.


“Lancer!” called Johana, her Servant appearing at her side as soon as his name was spoken.


“Yes, my Master?”


She checked for the two people walking, and saw them move on. “Can you sense any Servants nearby? I imagine those two up there are Masters... or, they're a Master and a disguised Servant. I can't be sure of what tricks our enemies have created for tonight.”


Lancer knelt down, not needing the shreds of light to see. His keen eyes stared ahead, and his brow furrowed. The air was tense, like a moment of life or death, and everything hinged on Lancer in that same moment.


“...yes.” he said, finally, snapping to his feet and holding his spear in both hands, tip grazing just barely against the trim grass. “I can feel magical energy in the air, somewhere above us. In front of the bridge, now. It comes closer with each moment, and...” He held his breath.


“A Noble Phantasm.”


Johana's lips creased into a frown. “A Noble Phantasm, on the first night? Clearly, someone must not care about revealing their Servant's abilities. Can you pinpoint their location, Lancer?”


“They're in the middle of the roundabout that crosses onto the bridge here. Close, but far enough away that-”


A shout could be heard from ahead, powerful and loud, but subdued enough from the distance that the exact words couldn't be made out. Still, something was clearly going on. Johana peered ahead, muttering something under her breath as she closed her eyes tight.


On opening her eyes, her sight had improved tenfold; she'd reinforced her eyes with magical energy, letting her spy every detail of what was happening on the bridge itself. The two people there stepped back, and a flash of light showed itself right beside them. A charge, and a burst of prana, and the two forces collided. Johana awaited the impact, her whole body tensing up, expecting the ground to shake from the power of two Servants clashing.


Instead, a light flashed in an electric blue, overtaking the area of the bridge and roundabout, not quite touching the parkway below. It warped the air and the land, distorting Johana's and Lancer's sight to the space, then sand rushed across the green grass, rolling down the hill to flutter at the feet of Johana and her Servant.


It all suddenly swirled together, rushing inward towards the ball of blue light, and Johana was nearly blinded from a second flash.


When she looked back at where the light had been, there was nothing. Once again, silence had overtaken the whole area; there was a light creak as a street lamp cracked at its base, splitting up the middle, but otherwise... nothing. Not a trace was left of the Servants or Masters who had just before stood on that bridge.


“What is this, Master?” Lancer turned to Johana, not understanding the situation. Johana herself had her own questions, and the fact that her Servant didn't know what was going on made her uneasy. At most, she knew that some powerful magecraft had been unleashed, but nothing more could be gleaned from the evidence she had at hand.


She shook her head. “We have some respite, that's what we should think about. If whoever activated their Noble Phantasm has disappeared...”


She had to spare a few moments to think. At the moment, she could either take the risk of stepping onto the roundabout, or she and Lancer could play it safe and sneak under the bridge. Either method would work, but there was a certain balance of recklessness involved.


“...no, we can't take that risk.” Johana let out a sigh, walking out onto the road and under the shadow of the bridge, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Lancer was close by. Danger was heavy in the air that night, and Johana wasn't the type of person to take risks. Whenever she did that, she remembered, no one came out any better than they had been going in.


“There could still be more Servants around. On the first night, results will never be spectacular, but we have to carry on. We missed an opportunity to observe an enemy Noble Phantasm, and I have to brand that a failure.” She frowned, and said no more. Sometimes she felt she was too verbose, but when she ended up making herself talk less, she was always left with the thought that she hadn't said enough.


Dawn was nearing, or so Johana could only assume, and she made herself run when she could, her light shoes more suited to casual walking. Beside her, Lancer's eyes kept shifting to the left and right, making sure that they both were alert.


The air was still cold with winter's chill, and the only sound was the running river beside them, splitting the cities of Arlington and Washington. Johana stopped running, noticing how her Servant was becoming more cautious with each step he took. He was a tall and radiant knight, with an almost otherworldly feel about him, but when he walked along the parkway he looked like a hunter, waiting for something to strike as if he knew it would happen. He stayed close to Johana; every few steps she brushed against him, trying in vain to adjust to the way he moved: smooth and careful, but still quick.


Johana, now, kept herself alert, though the power that had improved her eyesight had all but faded away from her by now.


The trees to their left blocked their view from the parkway, but as they rounded another curve in the road they gained a better look across the river to their right, the trees there sparse and leafless. They were looking at Georgetown across the water, in Washington. Nothing seemed to be happening, but at the same time in a war like this, anything could happen at any time.


And then, just as the sun threatened to break on the horizon, something finally chose to happen, forcing them into action.


An arrow cut through the thin night air, passing just between Lancer and Johana; Lancer had dashed her out of the way and turned to face the enemy. He noted that the arrow had come from the other side of the river. Somewhere along the line, they had been spotted.


Johana cursed their inattentiveness, and kept her body low as she made her way into the underbrush along the river's edge. It would only take a small slip for her to tumble into the icy, rushing river, but she still had to act: standing in the middle of the parkway would only get her killed, and by splitting the enemy's attention between both herself and Lancer, it would be far easier to find a way out of this.


She saw out of the corner of her eye Lancer, parrying one projectile with his lance, knocking it aside and setting the tip of his weapon forward, eyes trained straight ahead.


He was ready for anything, but Johana was not. Though she was out of view, she was still very much in danger. Clenching one hand into a tight fist, she manoeuvred through the thick bushes and bare trees, feeling sticks and plants crackle under her feet; the ground was slightly muddy, threatening to sink her into the river no matter what she did.


The only choice left was to return to the parkway. She still saw Lancer there, fending off more arrows, yet his gaze was elsewhere. He stared at the line of trees, easily seeing Johana.


Without hesitation, Lancer ran forward in a burst of speed, his whole body covered in a flowing blue aura, just barely visible against the night sky. Johana gave him a questioning stare when he reached her, but there was nothing she could do. He was acting on instincts, knowing exactly how and when to protect his Master. Soon he had her in his arms, spear out of sight, and some power infused his whole body.


Crossing the river he was like a shot of light, leaving a foaming wake as he ran along its surface. A hail of arrows, more than any ordinary archer could fire at once, rained down on the opposite shore, the sharp steel heads burying into the concrete of the parkway.


On the other side of the Potomac, Lancer set Johana down, giving her one last, emotionless glance before he set off ahead, eyes locked on where the arrows had been fired from.


For Johana, it had passed in a blur, but even this sort of strength and speed from her Servant broke all of her preconceptions of his power. He was almost out of sight, but she could sense him ahead. An icy chill ran down her back, and something in the very air just felt wrong. Looking behind herself, there was nothing, but she couldn't deny her own suspicions.


As she stood there, planning a course of action, she was struck.


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

I hope this chapter was good; you'll get to see the fight scene in the very next update. Both Johana and Lancer get to show off their stuff, and they're fairly impressive. Lancer especially has some tricks he's yet to show, and you get bonus points for figuring out what his skills and NPs involve before I put up his stat sheet.

[Lycodrake]

Still getting a feel for the new (?) setting, but Johana and Lancer catch my interest quite a bit.
Feels a bit more like a murder mystery than the main part.

[Caster]

Yay, Lancer. I reserve the right to claim I elevated Lancer to protagonist-level. :P Yay, Lancer. I hope we can learn his identity soon. I know a couple of hints were dropped but I don't think it's enough to help me.

[Fancy Face the First]

Sorry for being so late on the uptake, Five.

I want to know who Lancer is. I must discern his identity.

[Sunny]

I feel bad being pretty late with a response, but it's been a very very very busy week. ^^;

The hiatus makes me sad, but it's certainly your perogative to make sure you're happy with the work you've put out. I think the concept of the arc is pretty interesting - but it's daring for exactly the same reasons it is somewhat problematic. It constricts the focus to a limited number of characters for an indefinite amount of time in a particular setting. That certainly runs the risk of making things stale if not handled very well; especially if some of the characters you're interested in are the ones on the outside. Personally I thought the set-up for the arc premise was neat, though, and I certainly can't fault an interesting experiment. I feel like it's a pretty delicate balance though. It seems really easy to make something like this drag too long if it's not handled just right, and how much is just right might vary from reader to reader. I thought it was doing a good job of picking up with recent chapters after the initial set-up, but the set-up was probably a bit slow. Set-ups usually are though, and I'm pretty patient with that as long as the pay-off is worth it. ^^;

James' profile is pretty interesting. The mention of math made me hide and quiver (math usually has that effect), but it's still a pretty powerful sorcery trait. You'd think the family would be even more controlling than they seem to be, if the heirs are that exponentially valuable. I appreciate the explanations on stuff already covered though - and some future quotes too!

I feel dumb for not being able to make any guesses on the new Lancer yet though. Usually at least some ideas present themselves, lol.

[Five_X]

Thanks for the responses, everyone! Especially sir Cyber Angel!

Though the hiatus is on, at least you'll get this new series semi-regularly. As for Lancer's identity, he's probably one of the Servants I took the most leeway with in creation, but technically his powers all make sense if you know his legend. He's not quite obscure, though, but I guess he might not be all that well-known. Definitely more famous than Ardem's Archer. :P

I'll give one hint to Lancer, though: he doesn't necessarily wield a spear in his story.

[Five_X]

In which Johana is the most cynical character of MPII, and really forms a nice contrast to the other Masters.

I hope this (quite late!) chapter is good; it's relatively short, as all these Johana/Lancer chapters will be. Of course, that also means they get a lot of stuff. I'm not sure if this will be going on much longer; it only needs to progress enough for you to see their relationship dynamic building, and for you to get an idea of what they're up to during the whole Manhattan Project before the General Dialogue stuff kicks in.

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

Invocation the 3^rd

What seemed like a perfect strike was cut short by the clang of steel on steel. Lancer slid the blade of his spear along the edge of his foe's sword, breaking their deadlock and stepping back. His weapon was taller than himself but weighed less than a feather, and could be manoeuvred with ease enough to match any sword or dagger.


But, the swordsman didn't yet know that. He was fierce and tall, with heavy, tanned muscles covered by a white silken shirt; he had a length of tiger's hide wrapped around his chest, fluttering behind him almost like a cape, and his ragged white trousers were hardly any protection at all.


For all the bulk of his coat, though, he was a fast man, inhumanly so, constantly aware of every minute detail of the fight.


Lancer could tell by the man's eyes that he was experienced; unlike Lancer, who fought through instinct and otherworldly power, this Servant was one who had acquired his skills through decades or more of combat, never flinching, and never losing. His sword, old and lacking any magnificent sheen to its blade, had a few notches in its steel and had a hilt made in part with what almost looked like incredibly tight, coiled rope: a tough grip.


Though the man was fierce, his lunges and parries, deflecting every one of Lancer's carefully timed strikes, were those of an elegant duellist, not a crazed warrior.


A smile appeared on his face, the wind blowing through his shaggy black hair. With steady swings of his sword, he pushed Lancer back, hitting from a new angle every time. Lancer blocked all with his spear, but a defensive fight could only go on for so long. He had the choice of either twisting around the incoming blows and running from the fight, or trying to mount an offence against a foe who never seemed to tire.


Stepping forward, he stared right into the swordsman's eyes, bringing the blunt end of his lance forward and against the sword, pushing it aside for the moment; his grip tightened, and he finished the circle, almost spinning his weapon in his hands. In a second, the spear's tip was pointed at the swordsman's chest, and it struck home like a thin burst of lightning.


That attack, though skilled, wasn't enough to succeed completely.


The swordsman, moving his body as if in perfect prediction of Lancer's attack, turned to the side, taking the blade of the lance along his back, slicing hot through his skin; blood dripped down the back of his coat and on his fur cape.


Then, his sword seemed to break apart, letting out a ringing sound like sliced metal, the blade reconfiguring itself until all had changed; where there was once a scimitar's heavy edge, there was now the ornamented head of a mace, made up of the twisted, snapped metal of the sword. Lancer eyed that, having never seen a weapon change itself quite like that one did just before his eyes. He pulled his spear back, preparing for defence, but he was too late.


With a resounding crack, the mace impacted on his extended forearm, filling the night with its sickening, final crunch.

-- --

“Excellent try, magus, but you should fix your aim.” A whizzing sound split the air as one gnarled, pale knife was deflected and harmlessly tossed into the river.


Johana stood her ground, eyes narrowed and staring at the trees where the blade had had emerged. It only took a split second to reach her, but in that narrow space of time she whispered her single incantation, and she gripped her sword. Energy crackled along its blade, barely able to course through the weapon without sparking off onto the ground.


Her stance was tense, and she glanced for a few moments at her surroundings.


She knew all too well what was around, and a short laugh revealed to her what exactly had caused all this: a man in a heavy winter coat, a lengthy bush of a beard growing from his face; his skin was light and his smile broad, and faced by this man Johana did nothing to seem friendly.


“I apologize, my dear.” He bowed, taking off his fur cap. Lines of wrinkles could be seen on his face as he came near, emphasized by his smile. “Next time, I will try to kill you alright, if you find that acceptable.”


There could be no doubt as to his identity when he spoke those extra few words, given how thick his accent was: he was a Russian man, built like a keg of vodka that Johana couldn't help but imagine him drinking. She held no love for his type, but then again, there were few people she could bring herself to care about at all.


He took one step closer, and Johana readied herself for a strike. If he wanted to build up some pretence of friendship, then she wasn't falling for it.


“Young miss, might I ask your name? You are the first I have met in this war, you see, and I would like to take note of this event. If you are fighting for a country I may find to be notable, then by all means, please mention it as well!” He grasped his belly, letting out a rumbling laugh. Was he a fool, or perhaps actually drunk? Johana shook her head in disgust.


She let the tip of her sword threateningly touch the asphalt, letting out an electric snap. It hung there ominously, like the hand of a clock about to strike the next hour.


Her stare remained unchanged. “You don't need to know my name, magus. I am from Czechoslovakia, however, if that really interests you. I take it that you represent the Soviets?”


He let out a sigh, his head hanging lightly. “Ah, you will give me no name? Fair enough. Though, we fight on the same side, I see?” Another step.


“We're enemies. Make no mistake.” Johana's grip on her sword got tighter. “If you think you can tempt me with an offer of alliance, then leave. I'll cut you down before a single word can pass your lips. You stand in my way, magus, regardless of political aims.”


His hands fell to his sides, and his once gentle expression became an understated glare. “Think of-” He managed to speak two words, and Johana cursed herself for being so slow.


With speed he had concealed up until now, he dodged out of the way; a snap of his fingers and a small incantation were punctuated by a creak from the shoreline, then a loud snap. Johana turned about, reacting immediately.


A rush of air passed right by the side of her head, and an oncoming projectile was splintered in two before it could cut into her face. Looking down at it for a moment, Johana saw that it was a mid-sized tree branch, broken off from one of the nearby sycamores, similar to the slice of wood that had been flung at her earlier. Each piece moved like a bullet, but Johana was unwilling to just stand around and parry her enemy's attacks forever.


A reinforced branch like a dagger rushed for her chest, but the side of her electric sword knocked it from the air. The magus was running away, bounding up into the trees with an almost inhuman speed, but Johana's quick eyes kept track of his movements.


Laying the hilt of her sword lightly in her palm, she closed her eyes and let her circuits activate fully, rushing prana through the weapon in her hands.


With a snap of her silver eyes a surge of power cracked right along the blade; lightning coursed through it, cracking and roaring at the fuller, split by the narrow crevice, finally converging at the forked tip of the sword, pure electric power blasting out.


A bolt of lightning flashed from the weapon's very tip, striking out and hitting a tree not far away, directly where Johana pointed the sword.


The tree snapped apart, bursting at the middle, falling to the ground with its midsection catching fire, already blackened by the shot of electricity. The magus, once nowhere to be seen, had been revealed by the flash of light and the splitting flanges of lightning that ran through the outcropping of trees, striking each one in turn with a small bolt.


Yet, Johana wasn't the sort to wait for indirect confirmation of her kill. She would do this personally, and wouldn't accept anything less than a corpse as a sign of death.


Rushing into the underbrush with her sword at the ready, she delivered a fast kick to the man's side; it was softened by the coat he wore,but he still felt it, and clutched his stomach for a moment, wincing. Johana wasn't finished with him.


She raised her sword, and just as it came down to lop off his arm at the shoulder, there was a rumble that ran through the grass and dirt beneath their feet; a tree's thick, twisted root raised up in a knot, stopping the onslaught of the sharpened sword with its sheer thickness. Blood or sweat matted the magus' hair, and he looked on with utter rage at Johana. H had been embarrassed by this mere worm, and she would pay.


The longer branches of nearby trees curled and snapped, splitting apart as necessary, and they all shot towards Johana. The magus limped away, his defences finally failing.


Her body tensing from the shock, she took one hit to her thigh, the small branch cutting into her like a sword itself, disregarding the weakness of the wood. Another wrenched into her palm, flying out the back of her hand to scatter into a bush, and with the adrenaline pumping through her body, Johana cut away three others that tried to strike at her. The roots swelled around her ankles, coiling like rough snakes, their bits of bark biting on her skin as though they were teeth and claws.


The whole thicket of trees loomed around her, and the magus was nowhere to be seen. Johana didn't know, but he merely cast an illusion upon himself, making himself camouflaged with the trees and dirt being scattered around in the air. He didn't think she could last much longer.

-- --

The impact of the mace broke bone, and Lancer instantly recoiled. He held his spear now only in his other hand, and there was no way he could fight on. The hue of azure that had surrounded his lance now phased up his body like a light nimbus, and he braced the end of his spear against the road as tightly as he could.


A ringing in his mind like an agonizing headache, pounding away, told him that his Master was far from safe. He had to act, and yet the swordsman closed in on him.


Just as a swing of the mace was made at his head, Lancer let the field of power surrounding his form burst into his weapon again, and he took off like a rocket, moving faster than even the mighty champion could hope to match. Raw magical power boosted him away in a high jump, feet landing flat on the ground, his other arm hanging loose; he winced, but as a Servant he knew that something like pain was only transient. Duty was all that mattered.


He ran, kicking his feet off against the ground, his spear held tight against his body like a crutch, pointed forward.


The bladed edge sliced through trees cleanly, their trunks splitting in half with only a tiny gash to show what had gone wrong. Lancer knew he'd have to fight his hardest in this one moment, going farther than he wished he would need to.


Johana was nearly crushed by the weight of the trees collapsing on her, her eyes staring forward in a piercing, hateful glare as blood ran down her legs and arm. She didn't even know that her Servant was close behind; the only thought she could hold on to was that she needed to survive past this. It would just take a moment, and a cruel grin twisted her lips.


“Sun's Spear!” Lancer called out his Noble Phantasm, and when the blade of his weapon struck the ground, a gout of flame wreathed the whole forest, making the roots and branches shrink back and curl in their blackened shapes, like the legs of dying insects killed with a mortal blow.


The illusion cast by the magus was purified by the flames as they spread from their centre, and horror filled the man's eyes as Johana pounced on him, sword in hand, tip pointed right for his fleshy neck. No mercy would be had tonight.


But, Lancer acted before his own Master could and picked her up like a child, carrying her from the crackling inferno amidst the trees.


He ran with her, getting across the river and far away; she could hardly grasp what was going on until she, dazed, was set down on the ground back in Arlington. Her thoughts were mixed and wild, and she stood to her feet, nearly falling over as all strength left her limbs, the pain settling in once again.


“Lancer!” Her gaze was thin and cruel, with anger clear in her eyes. “How dare you use your Noble Phantasm without my orders! Victory was at hand, but you decided to whisk me away like some fairytale knight, did you?” She spat on the ground, absolutely disgusted.


The man, letting out a long breath, still stood tall, leaning against a tree by the side of the road. His arm hadn't been healed, and straining it as he did was agonizing and nearly unbearable; with the pain it caused him, it was a few minutes before he could respond to his Master. His breaths calmed him, though, and the sight of her alive and in safety was enough to assure him that what he had done was worth every ache.


“I had to protect you, Master.” Beyond his pained sighs he smiled, looking on at Johana with confidence that only served to deepen her frown.


All of his confidence wouldn't save him at all when Johana simply walked up and slapped him in the face, leaving a flushed mark there almost like a red scar. He rubbed at it with his good hand, staring at his Master with confusion. Did she want to die, instead of being saved from her doom by the perfect knight that Lancer expected himself to embody?


“Next time,” said Johana, seething, “could you please leave me to my own devices? I need no chivalric fool to guard and guide me through this like an infant. Really, that's what you treat me as: a mewling pup of a woman, unable to care for herself no matter the circumstances. You said that you trusted me, did you? I thought lying was a dishonourable thing to do, sir knight.” She spat that title out, annoyed just by saying it aloud.


Lancer shook his head. “From my experience, I have been needed to protect the one I am bound to, through life and death and every circumstance that could arise, by all the means afforded to me. If you die, then I die, too.”


“From your experience?” Johana scoffed, crossing her arms. “Please, save those words for someone who would find them relevant. You realize that this is the modern world, don't you? Your so-called 'experience' as some legendary man of valour have no bearing here in the cruelties of real life. Do you think that there is no reason why the social order of knights died off? It was inefficient and morally twisted to serve blatantly pompous goals. Ultimately, chivalry and the knights existed to look fanciful, and then when they were not in their good clothes they would commit the sins of any ordinary man. When their facade was lost, their purpose went with it.”


As he listened, Lancer calmly nodded his head, at least appearing to understand Johana's explanation. He knew that it wouldn't be fair to express such a thing, but he couldn't help but feel a shred of disappointment when talking with his Master.


“You do not understand. As a knight, I live to provide an ideal of hope and glory for the mundane people of the world to look up to. I am a hero, and this is because those who knew of me aspired to be like me, and praised the ideal that I, at my core, represent.”


Johana turned her head, looking with a sneer at the dawn. The lights of the sun were almost painful to see, as they marked the ending of the night. The progress they had so far was so dismal as to be completely negative, with their progress as a team losing whatever simple footing it had made.


She faced away from Servant clad in blue, the dawn light slowly cascading through the trees; they could see each other clearly now.


“Exactly, Lancer. You are a her; a myth. You never existed, and so with a background bred in falsehoods, you could be whatever some peasants dreamed up to entertain themselves. A truly pure and honest knight could never have been alive in the reality I know of. What kind of place would give rise to honesty, rather than the base greed that already infects humanity no matter what environment we find ourselves in?”


Feeling his damaged arm, Lancer moved it around a bit, getting used to the last glints of pain as they shot through his nerves. “Actually, Master...” he remarked, walking closer to her, forcing her to face him, “I truly existed, long ago. I even had children, and descendants. I am no myth, you know, and you should not treat me as one.”


“Excellent!” Johana raised her arms in an embittered, sarcastic flourish. “Your being real only allows me to argue further with you, Lancer. Shall I talk this time about how your supposed honour is only a facade to look impressive for those around you, and that through selflessness you actually only prove your selfishness?”


Her biting comments were clearly little pricks at Lancer, made to stir up his ire.


Yet, he shouldered his spear and didn't respond. Johana honestly wondered why, thinking in the back of her mind that perhaps she'd won him over; the better part of her believed that it was more likely that he'd become tired of her cynical commentary and wanted to move on. That, at least, meant she'd made an impact on him, and that was all she could be content with for now. In time she would break him, and seeing him fall out of the grace of his fake honour and chivalry would be a succulent thing indeed.

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

She's a bit mean, though. I'll establish her backstory as time goes on; you'll get to see at least part of it in these chapters. There's quite a lot to it, of course, and you'll get some flashbacks, too. The next chapter of this will mostly be slice of life and talking, and of course talking is the best thing for Johana because then she becomes really easy to write. Action stuff, not so much. Even with her sword that kinda gets difficult. Maybe that just means she's a very defined, well-developed character.

Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, everyone! I am sort of wondering what your thoughts on the two are at the moment; that might be best left for the coming update, though, since it shows a slightly different side to Johana, when she's not so worked up by her Servant.

[Lycodrake]

I like this duo more and more. Great job portraying just how much of a cynic (though not the original meaning) she is, and the stark contrast Lancer holds to such things.

[Five_X]

Poor Johana and Lancer are criminally unpopular, it seems.

Ah, well, I'll just have to cut them out of the story. No hot, sadistic Slavic women for you folks. At least there's you, Lyco! You can be the solitary fan to this little pair.

[KAIZA]

Aww.
If I wasn't swamped with homework and exams right now, I would try and read them.