Fate/Tempus Odyssey

"It would seem the time is almost here."

The command room of Chaldea could quite easily be likened to a fridge, for all the warmth that was held within it. A marvel of science and magic in concert that under nearly any circumstance would be considered impossible. It was a world away from what the Association of Magi would call proper, and beyond the wildest dreams of any mere scientist.

The room only had a few people within it. Most of the staff were currently asleep, as was proper. The need for sacrificial lambs was almost regrettable, but if one let the stresses of the past bog them down, then nothing would ever be done. The room housed a scant few people, but it housed everyone who needed to be present.

Lord Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald was not a young man. His body was willowy and refined, the lines set in his cheeks and the weariness obvious on his face. For a man who no doubt still had decades of life within him, for he would accept nothing but, it was becoming painfully obvious that the life's work he had taken on was taking it's strain. What, exactly, had convinced him to give this insane little project a chance was unknown; or, perhaps, was obvious, given the form that had never once left his side in twenty years.

"Master, the routes are ready. I'm ready to take the staff to the vessel on your orders." The man's name was most commonly referred to as Lancer. The truth of the matter was a closely guarded secret, one that only scant few had learned in two decades. He looked almost out of a picture book, a man dressed in an archaic coat and bearing small bits of armour fitted for a mobile fighter.

"Good, good." Kayneth simply repeated himself, letting out a long, tired sigh. "Do get some of the whisky. I suppose we might as well enjoy what time we have left, before it all ends." The pair fell into silence for a long moment, sharing the two flutes, before Kayneth let out a wistful sound. "If only Sola-Ui had accompanied me on this endeavour."

"Some things cannot be helped." The third voice belonged to a man who had been lounging on a seat, staring at a monitor he barely understood. "There's no point worrying about it. She'll just be here to sing your accolades when we come back from saving human history!"

"I think Master would rather not say that goodbye at all." Lancer retorted drily, yet Kayneth just held up a hand.

"This isn't the time to quibble about the details." He whispered. "Too many years have gone into this to worry about a few cracked eggs."

"And what if this plan blows up in your face?" The final form, a young woman in entirely too baggy and heavy clothes that looked more suited to a sandstorm then an only somewhat cold room, spoke up. Her hand rested on a small pane of glass that separated her body from the lens that observed the world. "What if none of the Masters make it?"

"Then you will have to work overtime." Kayneth answered simply. "High birth, high talent, high potential. All three of these things are held by those who are candidates to be Master in spades. We have no use for someone who can't realise some combination of these three things; they will simply have to be saved with the rest of humanity." His lips twisted just a little, though whether it was pain or pleasure was impossible to tell.

The truth of the matter was quite ironic, really. Fenis Chaldea, the security organisation dedicated to protecting the past and future of humanity, would fall within a matter of hours. In spite of all the money and time put into the organisation, the simple truth was that it would be destroyed in an instant. Humanities first and last defence against an end that it would never see coming was doomed from the outset.

"Poor little birds. They think tomorrow they will have the briefing for their first mission. Too bad tonight is the night it all ends." The man at the computers mused. The girl just sighed.

"Margin for error is about three hours." She retorted. "It could end tomorrow." Really, though, she would take any victory she could get. The man just smiled.

"You're right. We've got time for dinner. I'll get the candles."

"You're insufferable."

Kayneth did not interfere with their bickering. There was little need to. His hand simply reached into his pocket and brought to view his pocket-watch.

"Master?"

"It's a little sad." Kayneth admitted. "So many years, and it will be reduced to nothing."

"No disrespect, Master, but we've known this for a long time."

"It doesn't make it any less sad." Kayneth admitted. "If it had to end, I wanted it to end in glorious battle, something noble, not as a small whimper in the night." Yet his face did not seem sad. If anything, his face betrayed his determination to do what must be done. "Rider."

"Yes?" The man at the computers, Rider, raised an eyebrow.

"Get Leonardo and take her with you. Make sure the ship is ready. We will be setting sail with all haste." Kayneth's voice could not be called anything but certain. "Caster."

"What?" The girl was significantly less reverent. "I have a name, you know." Kayneth ignored the snipe. Really, in the end, in this one case, he certainly did deserve the response.

"Your prediction?"

The Caster did not immediately answer, her eyes glazing a little as they burned with amethyst fire.

"Maybe an hour. It's overlapping with the present in my sight. It's near enough that I can't see it apart."

"Good enough. Lancer, get the support staff. Be discrete." The Lancer simply, and quickly, bowed, before vanishing in a sparkle of light. Rider snorted loudly.

"Show off."

"Rider, I believe I gave you an instruction."

"Fine, I'm going, I'm going." With that, Rider vanished as well, leaving Kayneth and the Caster alone.

"I still think this is a bad idea." Caster grumbled. Kayneth just smiled.

"Well, if you think the odds are so bad, go even them." He noted, almost to himself. "Although given the enemy will use your decision against you..."

"You are a heartless prick, you know that?"

"And you have spent entirely too much time with my ex-student." Kayneth answered with a shooing gesture. "Time is short, do what has to be done."

In the end, Caster was left alone, cursing under her breath as she observed the globe that was Chaldea's observations. In some way, it could be called righteous fury. In others, however, she could only be called indecisive.

Forty nine people who had been chosen as Master. The odds were low any of them would be around at the end of the night. The simple fact of the matter was that to Kayneth, the end of the world was a test to weed out who was unworthy of being a Master from those who were. Only those who possessed what Kayneth called the essential quality would have the wits to survive, or at least, so said Kayneth.

Really, he was the epitome of a modern magi. An insufferable bastard who believed bloodline was all important and that everything would come naturally to the talented. Really, there was only so much a man could change, even if one cast a glance into the times alongside.

Although in that sense, it was rare to see the Lord of the Archibald still alive. Normally he would perish due to that attitude.

The dilemma, in the end, was quite simple; save one at the certain cost of the many, or save the many with almost certainty they would all fail. Kayneth was not, after all, wrong. So long as they remained within the correct timeline, the enemy would already know the outcome to this sorry play. Who would make it, who would truly become Masters, had already been decided from the simple perspective of even now, they existed outside of time.

It was maddening; she had no idea who, if any, would make it.

Yet her ruminating was interrupted by a gentle glow of red. The orb called the world, within the lens of observation, had begun to burn.

Time was up. Humanity was going to vanish within minutes.

Then the siren began blaring.

"This is not a drill. Commence evacuation. Chaldea is under attack."

For most, it would be too late. They would already have been killed in the first attack. An explosion rang out if only to punctuate that point. A pre-emptive strike on Chaldea would, at least to the enemy, neutralise the threat first.

So said Lev, anyway. Kayneth, of course, did not trust him at all.

And so, with a groan on her lips, the girl sped from the room. There was no more time for indecision. She would have to pick the one and only. Someone who would almost certainly survive. The decision of whether to pick the one or the many was simply already out of her hands.

And so, she would pick…

[ ] The heir to the most illustrious house. However, the head still lives, so while he bears great talent, he has not inherited the magical crest.
[ ] A forlorn prodigy of a family who had lost it all. A great magi tradition fallen to waste due to a wayward heir. However, he is famous for producing a mystery known as a false 'Crystal Legend'.
[ ] A useless young man who could almost be considered a bad joke, from a once proud tradition. His body produced no real magic or talent to speak of, yet his grandfather must have seen something within him.
[ ] A doll, a boy who could almost be called a defect of a defect. The not so prized jewel of the Einzbern, however, for the purpose of being a Master, he might just be perfect.