"Cleanse your Soul Gems, everyone," you say to the
puella magi on your team as the sound of
Walpurgisnacht's gears re-engaging their rotation cycle echoes to infinity above your heads. After the six of you have done so, by your count that would put everyone down by two Grief Seeds. Even Nagatsuki Miyuki, with the fewest Grief Seeds among your teammates, should still be in good shape as long as your count is accurate. "Whatever it is, it's coming, and
now."
And it's going to suck, no matter what it is.
Kyouko grips the shaft of her spear, and Tomoe-san tenses her body in preparation for another
Tiro Finale, but Caster stops her. "No," the golden servant says to his master. "You cannot defeat what is coming through force of arms." To the rest of you, waiting for the stand-still familiars to re-engage the battle, Caster turns his head and says "All of you, muster what defenses you can. This is not an attack which you can meet and expect to survive."
"But I can." All eyes fall on McRemitz-san as she speaks, the sword of light retracting back into her silver arm as she slams the bottom of her metal over-shoulder canister against the ground. "The best defense I have is an overwhelming offense." McRemitz-san gives the canister a kick, popping the top hatch to reveal the top of a large metal sphere.
What's she going to do with those? you ask yourself.
Caster nods his head; there's no way he didn't see this coming. His words must have been meant to provoke McRemitz-san into 'proving him wrong' through whatever her plan of defense might be. "The rest of you, raise what shields you can," Caster says, training his eyes on Mikuni Oriko, Saber, and Lancer especially.
"And pray to whichever gods you believe in that they hold."
The gears of Walpurgisnacht's undercarriage spin ever faster.
"Book of Earth!" Saber cries out as she draws a sword whose blade shines gold. Making a long slash at the ground with the blade, Saber's Noble Phantasm calls upon a large fortification in the shape of a traditional Japanese mansion. Its form flickers and shines in the sunless light of Archer's Reality Marble, becoming half-transparent as your team shelters in place, giving all of you a view of the doom hanging over your heads waiting to strike.
The gears of Walpurgisnacht's undercarriage spin ever faster.
"Rho Aias!"
"Gold Aias!"
In tandem, Archer and Mikuni Oriko each call forth their own barriers; Archer's, the familiar seven-layered barrier in the shape of a blooming flower; and Mikuni Oriko's, whose own seven-layer barrier appears to be in imitation of Archer's own barrier, if its form and name are anything to go by. Joining them for a third layer of barrier is Lancer, who adds her own
Othala runes to create a third seven-layered barrier on top of Archer's and Mikuni Oriko's.
The gears of Walpurgisnacht's undercarriage spin ever faster.
"Shield of the gods, come to me!" Caster calls out next, summoning a massive golden shield - the same shield, you recall, which Archer earlier used to blunt the attack of Elsa Maria's familiars as they charged him when he brought them into this place - to defend your position from above.
The gears of Walpurgisnacht's undercarriage spin ever faster.
Last to present arms is Rider, who calls on his shield at the fore of the defensive line, proclaiming "
To oppose this shield is the same as making the world your opponent! Akhilleus Kosmos!" as the world within his shield forms the final boundary in the defensive line.
The whirring of
Walpurgisnacht's geared undercarriage is incessant, but above the constant piercing din you hear two words, two words which spell disaster in any language you might have heard them spoken in.
You've never heard Walpurgisnacht speak before.
But, this wouldn't be the first time in this timeline that you've heard a witch speaking before.
The gears underneath
Walpurgisnacht spin with such force that they produce gale winds, and a blinding burst of light erupts from the devil's whirring undercarriage. Your heart plummets as the beam, a third of a kilometer in diameter and coming in with a force greater than all your team's Noble Phantasms combined, races towards your position at impossible speeds. In that instant, you doubt that even the strongest of your team's barriers can withstand the blast. Maybe, if you had started running the instant
Walpurgisnacht righted itself, you could have outrun it and survived;
but now... Guided by Caster's words, your team prepared their defenses, to their death. Your hand shakes as your fingers clutch the rim of your shield, ready to stop time in an instant if defeat appears inescapable otherwise.
But then...
One among your team stands against the force of the oncoming attack, and more than that retaliates with one of their own. The metal sphere hiding inside McRemitz-san's canister floats up to her fist. Like the quicksilver of her arm, the metal sphere takes on a new form as McRemitz-san prepares her overwhelming offense, that of
an ornate and powerful-looking blade adorned with many runes which rises from the forward edge of the metal sphere.
"Gouging Sword of the War God..."
"Fragarach!"
With her fist and the metal sphere both crackling with azure arcs of mana, McRemitz-san punches the metal sphere just a fraction of a second after
Walpurgisnacht's beam punches through your team's last line of defense, launching the weapon headlong into
Walpurgisnacht. You've become so accustomed to playing with the force of time that you almost don't notice when you feel causality reverse itself. Suddenly, McRemitz-san's attack is the first to strike, piercing
Walpurgisnacht through the center of its undercarriage with a terrible sound.
As for the weapon fired by
Walpurgisnacht, the beam of light is shattered as soon as its point of origin is pierced, and its energy is redirected outwards in all directions. Wherever they strike, the beams pierce large holes in the boundaries of Archer's Reality Marble, and under his breath you can hear him whisper
"So it has anti-world properties like that thing, does it?" while Caster looks on with a knowing look on his face.
With Archer's Reality marble rendered unstable, the boundary between his world and the real world dissolves, and you're left to see the damage done to the real world by
Walpurgisnacht's failed attack. Had it succeeded, there's no doubt in your mind that the ground you're standing on would have ceased to exist, replaced by nothing more than a deep hole in the ground a third of a kilometer wide. Bu thanks to McRemitz-san and her timely counterattack, the damage is minimal. The stony bog that remains of the southern seaboard on which you stand on is no more torn up than it had been before, though many buildings off in the distance have either been eradicated or pierced through by the violent beams of light.
Still, it's better than if the beam had been allowed to connect with its intended target. But
Walpurgisnacht, despite having its ultimate attack foiled, doesn't appear to have been phased by the unexpected counterattack. On the contrary, its bellowing laughter has returned. You immediately brace yourself, expecting another attack like that one to come again at any moment. Instead, what comes is far, far worse than anything you could have imagined.
"Ḭ̶̠̱̞̘̇̎͛̽͊͆̆͘͝f̴̢͉̩̬̙̲͚̫̯̰̤̆̌̈́͋̒̋̏̂̀̓̋ ̴̧̘̬̭̙̙̖̘͎͕̝̂̉̎͑͜͝p̸̡̝̱̰̥̜̤̫͕̗̘̤̺͌̍͌͆͂͐̂̄̋̅̐̂u̷͙̩͉̫͎̗̝̫͓͔̾͗͂́̀͌̀͌̊̈́͘̚ḝ̸͉̫̰̻̯̊̓͊̈́̃l̸̪̳̥̖̜̳̰͉̟͕̼̞͌̈́l̷̡̠͚͍̺̲͙̰̀̃̾͒ă̷̠̜͎̟̩͍̟͓̜̬̋́̌̂̄͑̈̎́̈́̌̾͜ ̵̲̖͚̰̦̻̩̱̯̱̪͖͎̅͒m̸̠̣̪͙͍̝͓̬͆͗̎̑͗̍̂̈́̈́ͅá̴̢͕̤̌̈́̌͘̚͜͝g̶̢̭̞͉̻̗̲͉̅͌͝͠i̴̗̱̙̺̝̱̰̜̥̿̉́̊ ̵̠̣̾̈́̇̽̇͌̉̄̊̀̕͝c̶̣̰̘̽̀̆̈̋͛͂̅̓̐͝ã̷̳̩͒͗̀͒̈́͒̐̈́n̶͇̯̰̯̣̽̊̓̋͌̑̀̄̓̆̃ ̵̧̡̛̘̠̹̺̫͖̬̂̂̊͆̒̽̾͊͐̕̕͝ͅͅḧ̶̯̤̯̥͔̭̤̖̗̮̭͕͇͊̒͛͝ą̷̢̛̹̑̊͛v̸̞̼̝̟̙̥̦̦̰̉ͅe̵̢͍͑͂́͛͊̓̽ ̶̡̙̰̰̭̟̼̿͒̊̀̈́͌̂͘̚ͅs̵̪̜̫̝̣̀̌e̶̪͇̥͌̏̓̅̕r̵̜̫̩͚̎̑̀͆̈́̈̋̆̍͆͛ͅv̴̛̰͈͍͒̓͐͒̀̂̅̕ả̷̺̱̖̦̳̻͙̟̥̤͇̇̀̿͂̓̎͠ͅń̸̡̨̧̺̻̺͎̻̹̫͆̎͜͝ͅt̸͎͚̣̙͉̘̲͈͊̊͜ͅs̷̜̥̣̬͚̻̣̝̺̄̃̾̂̊͛̊̌̉̚͜,̷̱̩̥͠ ̴̖̀̔͑̓͊̌̍͐̈t̴͚̮͈̥̺̤̞͈̦̖͚̃͜͝h̷̺̣̫̤̍ͅe̵̜̰̹͙̪̮̰̣̓̋̓́̉̀̉͊̆̂̚͝ņ̵̛̳̳̗̳̙̟̼̩͉͙́̈́̄́̆͂͛̿̾͗̚͠ ̸̛̣̮̍͌̎͒̈͒̄̈́͝͝ẘ̴͇̺̖͉̘͌̈́͆͊̍̀͑͘͠͝h̸̪̙̀͂̉̉͊̂̎̄͝y̵̨̢̟̘͚̓̾͛͌̋̑̋͗̕̕͝͝ ̸͔̹͚̖͔̌̽͑̊̅͝c̸̡̺̱̱͓͈̺̖̱͕̔̀̒̕a̴͔͙̼̔̀́̐̋̔̃͠n̵̡͇̞̙͖̪̺̏̃̒̾̈́͛̎͐͜͝ͅ'̵̨̧͕͉͈̗̩͓̮̰̫̙̜̈́̍͆͒͌t̸̝̗̞͚͔̝͌̏̿͊̀̂̓̅̾͘͘͘ ̵̢̧̟͚̈͑̑͗Ḭ̴͓͚̲͔͎͎͔̱̱̉̔͋̀̅͛̅̆̕͘͝ͅ?̵̛̳̳͍́̃̎̎̈́̍̀̕͘"
There is no way in any realm of existence, either in this world or the next, that those words are a sign of good things to come. The sound of tumbling locks returns to fill the air once more, rearranging the gears of
Walpurgisnacht's undercarriage until they reveal a gaping black maw. The devil's laughter fills your ears as a black waterfall rains down from the mechanical maw. "
Incoming!" someone calls out, and all defenses are raised as the ocean of corruption falls to earth. Though your body is protected from any imminent corruption by several layers of defenses, you can still feel a rising heat fill the air around you, the same burning sensation you felt in your arm when you tried to use
Inguz as a weapon.
Barriers fall as the attack concludes, revealing the extent of the damage. The liquid corruption has stained the waters of Mitakihara's southern seaboard black like the aftermath of an oil spill, and the black liquid has filled all of the gaps in the ruined pier. There is a heat in the air, choking, clouding, making it difficult to breathe, and a thick blanket of fire and smoke obscures the corruption's effect out to deeper waters; though you assume it to be much the same oil-spill-like contamination of the waters as what you can see from here. A light, black and red and ominous, shines from the deepest reaches of the choking fire and smoke, and you hear a voice calling out from within.
"E̶̬̗̖̻̘̗͕̹̓̄̒ͅx̶̢̛͙͖̺̓̿͐͊͛̌̂̕.̸̛̛͇̖̱̮̃̾̅̆̏̇̅.̸͎̈́̊͑̉́̊͠.̵̜̦͚͊͛͐͂"
Archer's body tenses, and fear colours his face in a way you've never seen from him before.
"No," he whispers.
"Not that... Anything but that..."
".̸̧̛͖̼̗̰̱͑͒͑̂̀̾.̴͉͖͎͔̱̄̌.̷̨̯̩͑̃̅́͆̅̃C̴̎̑̏͌ͅa̸̙̭̻͓̖͑̾̍ļ̵͖̜͉̞̜͚̘̩͚̍̑̏̈́̾̎̄̆͠i̴̜͎͍̱̪̐̒͆͗́̎͘͠b̶̧͈͚̹̗͇̻̓͌͛̈́ͅú̸̢̥̠͎̭̖̜̄͒͘͘͜͠͠͠r̵̗̋̓̉̍̅̒̚!̸̧̹̈́͊"
Something springs out from within the cloud of smoke and fire, a black beam very much alike to the lake-blue slash of Berserker's sword Noble Phantasm. No defenses are able to contain it, and to the last each member of your team is forced to avoid the strike. It cuts through the already ruined concrete, carving a long and deep channel which allows for further corruption to drain into the land; and it cuts through darkness obscuring its source, revealing the shapes of seven figures standing on the surface of the black oil-slick corruption. Each of the seven figures is coloured a pitch-black, the same as the corruption which every fiber of your being tells you they were born from, but the shapes and forms of their bodies all vary wildly. Where the last three of
Walpurgisnacht's original twenty-three familiars have gone you cannot say, but the message here is a clear one.
These are their replacements; and unlike the last batch
Walpurgisnacht expects great things from them.
[ ] Wat do?
(19)
