Chapter 3, Part 4
Mobius strip
Solution and Stage

[ [ March 16
[ [ 01:19

“No,” Ren replied. “I’m not going to do that.”
Kyriake had made him an offer that he could have only compared to a deal with the devil.
For a moment, he recalled Mishima’s warning that he could jeopardise the entire ritual if he touched it. It was certainly tempting to accept based on that alone. But at the same time, that didn’t reduce the definite badness of the definitely bad idea even slightly.
There wasn’t a huge gap to bridge here between ‘she thinks I’m an idiot’ and ‘she’s right’, and he was not going to build any more bridges today.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely fair… She seemed utterly devoid of malice, so either she was an excellent liar, or she had somehow gotten the impression that joining in with the ritual he was trying to stop would somehow end well for him.
Either way, her attempts were misguided.
“I’ll figure something else out.”
Kyriake looked almost pained. “That was all I could offer you. I know it was hardly a good wager, but it was the only one I could think of. A human cannot defeat a Servant. We cannot dissolve the ritual or move the Holy Grail.”
“But if the point is to defeat the Servants, then having one of my own would just put a target on my back. It’d defeat the point,” he replied.
“It might put your immediate life in harm’s way,” she conceded. “But then in that case, your better alternative would be to simply do nothing, to draw no attention to yourself, and to hope that no illness befalls them by happenstance.”
“That’s fine. I appreciate the offer,” he replied. “All I have to do is make it more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll see if I can come up with something on my own.”
“I see. And if you can’t?”
“Then I’ll just have to wait and hope, right?” he shrugged.
It was a disheartening notion, but it was reality. If he couldn’t do anything, then there was nothing he could do. Powerlessness was simply an unfortunate fact of the human condition. If anyone had the ability to simply do as they pleased, then God had truly manifested.
The priestess gave a solemn nod, quietly accepting his decision.
“As Overseer, I will do everything I can to make sure as little collateral damage occurs as possible,” she promised. “I swear it. But I cannot help you any further.”
Kyriake stood up, stepping into the aisle and curtseying in farewell.
“I still have duties to attend to. Please feel free to stay as long as you like,” she said. “Goodnight, Jikan-san, Miss Huangjing, Saber.”
Without another word, she left the room, and a pregnant silence fell.
Sofie gave a sigh of relief.
“You really had me going there for a second.”
Ren looked to her, silently curling his face into a question.
“I mean, if you’d become a Master,” she said, “that would’ve made us enemies on some level. And, well… you seem decent. I’d hate to have to kick your ass.”
“It would feel like cruelty at best,” agreed Takeru.
Ren gave a sheepish laugh. “You guys seem decent too. I don’t think we would’ve had to fight.”
“Saber can get a little wild in battle. It would’ve been that if anything,” she explained.
Takeru grumbled wordless, and she shot him a knowing smirk.
“Come on, man. You literally have the Berserker skill.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“What, am I a thought criminal now?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “You and your wild criminal thoughts will be brought to justice.”
“Are you taunting me, Master?”
“What if I am, Saber?”
Ren clapped his hands together. “Alright, we’re in a spiritual place, so no sexual tension. I’ll shove both of you under a waterfall.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Takeru growled, but Sofie just chuckled.
“Come on. Finish your soup,” she said. “We’ll walk you home just in case.”

As Kyriake roamed the cool night air, she couldn’t help but feel a burden on her shoulders.
She had not provided satisfactory solace to someone who had specifically come to her for it.
That alone was bad enough, but all she ended up giving was her word. Even if she had been able to offer something, the boy had refused. To she who prided herself on the guidance she could give to her flock, it had been almost indistinguishable from a personal rejection.
Believer or not, I should’ve been able to do something.
Fear led men to dark places.
She held out a hand into the empty courtyard, as if reaching for something invisible.
A blue butterfly fluttered down from the night sky. Moonlight danced off its wings like stained glass as it landed on her finger.
Indeed, it was closer to stained glass than genuine wings would have been. At first glance, it appeared completely ordinary, but the creature surrounded by an intangible aura of colour was no true living thing. Its entire body was composed of cold crystal, and not a single heartbeat permeated its tiny body.
“Are you busy?” Kyriake asked. “I’d like to talk to you in person.”
“Not busy,” came a voice, “but I am waiting for a calculation to complete. You might ruin it if you came in now.”
It did not stem from anywhere. The words simply were, as if the air itself was their source. No, perhaps that was exactly the case.
“I see.”
“What’s up? You seem down.”
“We had visitors just now,” she explained. “Someone who was not participating came with great anxiety. I was unable to promise them safety.”
“Oh, that happened already? What time is it…? Oh, wow. Super late. No problem, I’ll just force it to complete right now.”
Speaking as if it had already experienced this a thousand times, the voice shrugged off the happenings as though they were routine.
“You already foresaw the outcome, didn’t you?” pressed Kyriake. “Everything that is happening is within your design.”
“I thought you didn’t approve of that? ‘Playing God’, I seem to recall you saying.”
“That is true. I have several objections to your means. But… please, tell me anything at all. I want to know if I made a mistake.”
“You worry too much, Sister,” the butterfly tittered. “You offered him a place as a Master, didn’t you? But that’s pointless. No matter what happens, that person can’t summon a Servant. It’s impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“I saw him coming, and he looked like he was going to be a pain in the neck, so I ran a ton of calculations around him,” said the voice. “But he’s harmless. There’s no future in which he can move the needle at all. Even if he tries to summon a Servant, nothing comes out. Nothing to worry about, see? He’s a background character. Granted, he’s guaranteed to suffer a little, but the thread ultimately goes nowhere, so don’t worry about him too much. You could literally remove him and almost nothing changes.”
“Nothing?” she echoed. “Surely his life must be worth something. That can’t be true.”
“Mm… Well, if I had to say something… In the long run, it makes the last battle slightly harder, because Archer’s and Saber’s Masters get along better, so Saber isn’t as tired when I fight him at the very end. It’s a small ripple that gets lost in the waves, but it’s something. Oh, and I suppose Rider’s Master will be slightly more vulnerable for his existence, even if she’s definitely going to die early anyway… Aaaaand…”
Silence.
“…Nn. That’s all I can think of.”
The faint praise was sufficient to damn his entire presence in his own hometown to abject meaninglessness. He had slightly more relevance than those who never once learned of the Holy Grail. His name was a footnote, just barely unable to be totally omitted from the future. That was all. It was a very human tragedy that he was simply irrelevant. There were just too many people in the world for all of them to have been important. Some people, precious few, were born with the ability to claw to the top of the pile, but it would not have been a pile if there weren’t countless left below.
“I feel dreadful.”
“Why? Because you couldn’t do anything about it? Relax. You’re doing a great job.”
“I’d like to remind you that even if I consider you my friend, I am not your ally. Even if you are insistent on rigging this game with your future calculation and the abuse of your authority, my job is to ensure that this war is as safe as it reasonably can be. I take that duty seriously.”
“Uh-huh.” the voice dismissed, having heard it all before. “Isn’t there supposed to be a divine plan from your point of view? If you’re that stressed about the ethics of your powerlessness or whatever, why not go talk to God about it?”
The words were snide, but the sentiment was genuine, and Kyriake seriously considered it.
“Perhaps I will,” she concluded. “There is never a bad time to turn to the Lord’s infinite wisdom for answers.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Overseer. Don’t beat yourself up too much.”
The crystal butterfly fluttered once again, and took flight, disappearing into the night sky.
“…And you, Rulemaster, would do well to not stay up too late yourself.”

Bright light very suddenly illuminated the kitchen, throwing Yamamoto Hibiki’s focus completely off.
Her eyes darted to the light switch. Sure enough, Musubi was there, crumbling an empty soda can between her fingers.
“Hey,” she greeted. “You’ve been skulking around here for a minute now. Everything alright?”
Hibiki hastily shoved her phone in her shorts pocket. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“You know it’s half past one, right?” said Musubi, walking over to the recycling bin and dropping the can inside. “He’s not gonna text you back at this hour.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on,” grinned Musubi. “Don’t hold out on me. It’s a guy, right?”
“I mean,” Hibiki grumbled, “it is, but…”
“Youth, huh?”
“He disappeared earlier today and never came back. Nobody’s been able to get hold of him.”
“Oh, that’s not youth at all. You filed a missing person’s report?”
“I think I’m about to,” she nodded. “You know him, right? That little guy I was with at the convenience store.”
A flash of recognition crossed Musubi’s face. “Ohh… That one,” she nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Well… I don’t exactly know the guy, but I get the feeling that if it’s him, he’s alright.”
Hibiki couldn’t help but grimace.
Don’t tell me he’s also…
Her mom had never told her about their extended family. She’d always avoided the question. Musubi was the first real confirmation that they even had one. The reason behind her visit was a huge question mark, as was the mysterious woman named Lancer who had tagged along.
She didn’t have a clue what they were doing in Fuyuki City all of a sudden, but if she was commenting on his disappearance like that, then…
“You’re sure he’s fine?” she frowned. “I’ll blame you if he’s not.”
Musubi held up a hand. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty about who did what… I genuinely don’t know him,” she said. “But if he’s fine, he’ll probably tell you tomorrow, okay? I wouldn’t worry until you don’t hear from him for more than a day. So get to bed. It’s a school night, right?”
Not that there was much happening in class that she needed to pay attention to still, but… “Fine. And what are you doing up anyway?”
“Me? I’m going out in a minute. Didn’t wanna leave a mess behind, just in case.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Musubi’s expression turned to stone. “I’m not even trying to lie, kid. If I were, you’d know nothing. Matter of fact, I think there are some things that your mom should’ve told you years ago, but it’s not my place to give you the rundown on them,” she said.
“I don’t care. They’ve got nothing to do with me. I’m glad she didn’t say anything, and I don’t want you to tell me either.”
“It’s not your choice whether they have something to do with you. You’re next, Hibiki,” she warned. “I can smell it on you. And when it’s your turn, you’d better be prepared to run for your life. The moment that sinks in, I’ll happily answer your questions.”
“I don’t have questions.”
“Come up with some,” Musubi instructed. She barked it as an order, but her tone immediately softened. “Anyway, I don’t plan to force anything on you. Just a little unsolicited advice from your aunt, okay? In the meantime, I’ll be off. I might be coming back around dawn, so just think of me as a drunk old hag stumbling through the front door at dawn if you want. Catch you on the flipside.”
“Sure. Have fun.”
“Oh, it’s gonna suck,” she laughed, waving over her shoulder as she left.
Hibiki’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she quickly pulled it out.
I think Sato probably went to sleep, so just texting to let you know I’m fine
She clicked her tongue, shoulders loosening.
Don’t text people at this hour, idiot. You woke me up
She locked it again and went to bed.

There were no buses running at this time of night, so Musubi took her time strolling through the town streets and admiring the nighttime view. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t come from somewhere about as developed, but the land was largely flatter in her own hometown, and there was certainly no river running right down the middle. Generally speaking, there wasn’t a whole lot to look at beyond a bunch of lights shining under the moon, but it brought to mind a basin full of gemstones as she took in the sights and sounds. She didn’t need to intellectualise it. The eerie melancholy of streets and plazas, devoid of people, were open like an art gallery. Just like a song was better appreciated in silence, they were beautiful enough without justification.
Maybe she was simply idealising something she could never grasp for real, but she doubted she could ever tire of a place like this, living alongside family and friends until she grew old. She had never been able to appreciate all a single town was worth. She had never been able to stay in one long enough. Her life had simply been a shell game for years. But with the Holy Grail, the cups and balls could become irrelevant. If she could finally put an end to her and her sisters’ curse, then perhaps she really could finally become a part of the gallery of jewels that she wandered through now.
She envied her own Servant, that boundless freedom that she seemed so used to.
I guess I’d want a fair fight with a certain someone.
What had Lancer’s life been like, that she had been able to say such a thing when faced with unlimited possibilities? Was that really the only thing she lacked to be satisfied?
“I still don’t get you,” she called out, stepping foot into the harbour.
A violet skirt shimmied as the gold-haired warrior turned to look at her.
“Oh, is that the thing to say now? Maybe the Grail’s knowledge is out of date. I thought it was ‘wassup’, perhaps ‘hi’?” replied Lancer. “I’d settle for a good old-fashioned ‘salutations’. You took a while.”
“Sorry,” she shrugged. “I got a little distracted. Hibiki was worried about something.”
Lancer placed a hand on her hip. “Gotta look out for your own.”
Musubi nodded, but her attention was already elsewhere, looking out to the sea. “So what’ve we got?”
Lancer raised a finger, pointing out to a small black shape floating on the horizon. “Rider.”
“Interesting. A sailor then?”
“Could be,” she said, twirling her hands. As if out of thin air, two heavy slashes disturbed the space, and a pair of mismatched spears came firmly into her grip. “Bet I could hit ‘em from here.”
Musubi frowned. “What?”
“Go on,” Lancer grinned. “Command Spell me.”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure. I could sink that thing without taking a single step, no sweat.”
Musubi folded her arms. “I’m not letting you do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why,” she lowered her voice. “You’ve heard of mutually assured destruction, right?”
In her legend, Lancer lost her life in battle because she was unable to retrieve a weapon in time after throwing her spears. If Musubi understood the rules of Servants correctly - and she was pretty sure she did, given Tenou’s lecture - that meant that Lancer’s defences would drop to as good as paper in the moment right after recreating that attack. In that state, a particularly harsh criticism would kill her dead, let alone a counterattack from a cannon or something. All things being equal, Musubi preferred to win.
“Well, well,” the air was broken by a voice from up above. “Someone finally took the bait.”
The red arm of a crane was poised over the shipping crates, and there stood a blonde-haired girl in a white blouse. In her hand was some kind of cane, but it was hard to make out from this distance. She was almost certainly projecting her voice if she was speaking from that height.
“Excellent,” she continued. “I needed someone to try Rider’s guns out on. My name is Oliphiaelé Wodime of the Department of Modern Magecraft.”
She didn’t spell it out, but she was obviously a Clock Tower aristocrat. No, she had probably dismissed any need to spell it out. Nobody else would be so pompous, after all, and the aura of a typical high-class Magus brat was palpable even from this far away.
“I’m Momiji Musubi,” she called, “Master of Lancer!“
“I can’t hear you at all, but I don’t really care,” Oliphiaelé replied. “You understand why this country has a custom of naming yourself before combat, don’t you? That would be so that your lord will know who has been killed by whom at the end of the battle. So it’s pointless to name yourself to me, cannon fodder.”
Lancer raised her right-hand spear at the ship on the horizon, ready to defend.
“Oh, relax. It’s just a little verbal horseplay. When all is said and done, I have no intention of fighting you tonight,” the girl continued.
She took one step off the crane, and fell――
――――――――――――――――――――――quite peacefully onto the asphalt, just a few metres away, without making a sound.
“Ah, but don’t get any ideas. Even if my Servant can’t make landfall right now, you are actually staring down the barrel of a real cannon,” she pointed out.
Musubi clenched her fists. “You’re a shit negotiator already, girl.”
“I don’t care,” she waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not here to be friends with you.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m going to make an offer to you. I happen to be a… personal acquaintance of the Rulemaster,” she explained.
“You’re here on their behalf?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m here on behalf of the Mage’s Association. To make it short… the Rulemaster needs to die. And I want someone to help me arrange that.”
The words were perhaps two or three degrees ahead of Musubi’s brain. She understood them - at least, their literal meaning - but she didn’t parse anything beyond that. There was something she was missing here.
“Explain.”
“Do you know what death is?”
Her eyes narrowed all on their own. This girl’s sense of humour was getting incredibly grating, incredibly fast. “Explain.”
Oliphiaelé’s eyes closed, and she turned on her heel. “The water stinks. We can discuss elsewhere.”
If Musubi was confident in one thing, it was her ability to deal with surprise attacks. If this was leading to an ambush, it was ill-conceived.
…But if it’s not…
She patted Lancer on the shoulder and began to walk. Her companion slowly lowered her spear, and followed in step.

Ren’s front door latched shut, and he switched on the light.
Silence. Everything was exactly as he left it.
Sofie and Saber had left him at the gate.
He silently debated cooking something. The soup had been good, but not even close to enough.
But he decided against it. Enough was enough for today.
He switched off the light again, walked up to his room, fell face down on his bed, and - for the first time in weeks - dreamed of absolutely nothing.

- Chapter 3 -
end