Fate/Ethereal Order
- Thread starter Squirtodyle
- Start date
- Location
- [REDACTED]
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
I saw Roman coming, but man, did I not enjoy it.
I saw Roman coming, but man, did I not enjoy it.
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
I told you Ed would get dicked by Roman and you didn't believe me. Who's laughing now, eh?!
Sure, dicked over and dicked down are somewhat different but they're close enough right?
It could be worse, Ed's response could be "the only reason Niamh is holding my hand is because she's a horrible amoral deviant who wants to reenact Oreimo when I can't resist" or something.
Although wait, that's a valid interpretation of how Ed's wording it, so...
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
Last edited:
Commonwealth1991
Thanks, I hate it.
- Location
- United States
Well I'm pretty sure we all saw that betrayal coming.
What really surprised me though is that they all got out alive. I was half expecting Rom- Bael to rip out either Edward's or Niamh's heart.
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
To quote everyone's favorite pizza eating red devil: "So this is what they call a heart warming family reunion."
What really surprised me though is that they all got out alive. I was half expecting Rom- Bael to rip out either Edward's or Niamh's heart.
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
To quote everyone's favorite pizza eating red devil: "So this is what they call a heart warming family reunion."
- Location
- Ireland
- Pronouns
- They/Them/She/Her
I am beginning to have a hunch that "no deviations whatsoever" was a lie. Just a hunch tho.
But yeah, for srs, this is one helluva upset, no Beast I, and the 72 (71 now I guess) Goetia demons using all of human history as the map for their Battle Royale.
As for voting:
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
You don't get to have a good time just yet, Ed.
But yeah, for srs, this is one helluva upset, no Beast I, and the 72 (71 now I guess) Goetia demons using all of human history as the map for their Battle Royale.
As for voting:
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
You don't get to have a good time just yet, Ed.
- Location
- New York
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
MiracleGrow
Miracles for only $19.99 [They/Them]
- Location
- DOOR STUCK DOOR STUCK PLEASE I BEG U
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
This is the worst round of fortnite. Ever. Of all time.
Man what copy of FGO did you play?
The Dr. Roman betrayal was the best part of Singularity F.
The voice actor really sold the thing, and I'd you had been chasing all the relationship flags it was a real gut punch.
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
Would be certainly novel to have him answer with "I'm gay dammit" out of misunderstanding her intent!
Would be certainly novel to have him answer with "I'm gay dammit" out of misunderstanding her intent!
[X] Niamh. It would be just like her to take your hand like she has the right to hold it just because you couldn't stop her.
- Location
- Ireland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Voting will close at midnight this Tuesday, since I have exams this week and won't be able to write anything until Wednesday evening.
There may in fact be teeny tiny deviations from canon despite what was promised
- Location
- Texas, USA
[X] Archer. She hasn't left your side, why would she do so now?
- Location
- Ireland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Voting has closed, a little later than usual since I was a bit scatterbrained regarding exams and projects, but still!
The winning vote was for Niamh to be the one holding Ed's hand when he woke up. Update ideally will be up tomorrow.
The winning vote was for Niamh to be the one holding Ed's hand when he woke up. Update ideally will be up tomorrow.
Chapter Nineteen: The New Normal
- Location
- Ireland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That bitter pit that your mind goes to when you're not doing well and you know it whispers to you before you can even open your eyes, and you know what it says before the thought finishes crossing your mind, experience telling you exactly what you can conjure up in your unhappy moments.
"It will be Niamh," it whispers, taunting you with the horrible possibility that you might have endured the entirety of Fuyuki and the betrayal at its close just to be met with her face as the first thing you see. "It will be Niamh come to take you back."
With a groan, you force your eyes open, hoping that it might just be Archer with her characteristic overprotectiveness, Matthew, the actual medical officer, or even Circe just trying to sidle up to you after you forged the contract with her.
Red meets red, dull meets vibrant, and you remember that half the reason it's so hard to get rid of that little voice in your mind is because it's usually right.
"Eamon! Oh, you're awake, I'm so glad...I-I was so worried when we couldn't wake you up..." She's smiling at you, too-white teeth almost shining in the hospital-bright light of Chaldea's medical wing, and her eyes are wide and red like she's been crying. You honestly don't doubt that she has, it's always sad losing a prized pet.
White-hot spite and deathly cold fear battle out in your mind from having her so close, to being so vulnerable, and for a moment you're frozen. Niamh is too busy blubbering about how she felt to pay attention to the look on your face, but by the time she raises her head again to look you in the eye instead of whining you're at least able to pick which one to come down on. The fact that you remember what you're holding and how you got it helps a little. You're not powerless anymore.
"Don't call me that!" You whip your hand out of hers like you've been stung, all but throwing yourself away from her. If it hadn't been for the fact that your bed was up against the wall, you might have fallen off completely. Instead you're left backed against the wall, breathing hard and wincing. Your muscles still feel a little like jelly, and moving hurts a fair bit. On the upside, Niamh is looking at you like you slapped her.
Good. She deserves to feel like that.
For a few moments, there's nothing but silence, Niamh still looking stunned that you'd speak to her that way. You notice she's changed out of that bodysuit she'd worn in Fuyuki, wearing the belted white top and black skirt combination you saw a few people wearing while you were wandering around. If she's had time to change it means that there's no current crisis, which is good. It also means you've been out for a decent while, if they managed to get you set up in a private booth in the medical wing. There's no IVs or anything you need to worry about, nothing except the Grail clutched tightly in your hand. When you loosen your grip on it, your fingers ache a bit, and it's a struggle to get them to relax. At least that explains why you were still holding it, they probably couldn't pry it loose while you were out.
You're still dressed like some medieval warrior, you note, though your shield didn't appear during your freakout. Probably for the best.
"I know that it must be difficult, Ea-" Your head whips up as you hear Niamh speak, her voice quiet and dull and not at all the singsong melody you remember from your childhood. It's like she's speaking to a caged beast she's afraid might get set loose. "E-Edward. But you'll be okay. You'll be back to normal soon, and then everything will be fine. You...still remember me, don't you? Even after what happened to you? You said so earlier, didn't you?"
It takes you a moment to understand what she's talking about, but as soon as it clicks you can't help but look at her with a dumbfounded expression, something that only makes the look of unrestrained concern on her face deepen. The name, the way you've been acting towards her, that you lurched away from her as soon as you could, she thinks she knows why it's happening. You've become a Demi-Servant, after all. Perhaps that's having some effect on your mind, something that would make you treat your dear, doting sister like this.
There is, of course, no other way that you could ever possibly hate her.
You're about to reply when you hear a mechanical hiss from Chaldea's sliding doors, and you turn your head just in time to catch Matthew striding forward. His eyes are like Niamh's, red with tears, but the look on his face is resolute. He's still wearing that lab coat from before, and it strikes you that with Ro-...with Bael gone and the explosions not too long ago, Matthew must be running himself ragged, even though it was his mentor that had tricked you all, even though he must be hurting worse than anyone else. Thinking about the traitor makes your stomach lurch and your heart burn, so you don't think about him, focus on Matthew, on the way he gives an exhausted smile when you lock eyes, the kind you give when everything's gone wrong and you manage to do something right anyway, somehow.
"Edward, you've come to. I heard shouting, so I was worried...what happened? Was it a vision, or some kind of dream? I've heard Masters were meant to see the history of their Servants sometimes, but given your unique condition..." He trails off a little in an invitation for you to speak, but before you can even open your mouth you hear Niamh speak in a sickly sweet tone that makes your blood run cold, like a ripe fruit dripping with poison.
"My brother is recovering from having to fight for his life after your faulty equipment caused him to become...this. And you are interrupting. Leave us alone and go take care of the others. I'm here for him, and that's plenty." Every word makes your stomach churn, and you want to speak but you can't find your voice. It's like you're a decade and a half younger, listening to her speak during the few moments you were allowed together before she was whisked away for her studies and you were alone again. Fortunately, Matthew has no such impediment, even if he's a mundane talking to a magus. He's got steel inside him for sure.
"Edward is a patient here, and an extremely important one. The only reason you're allowed to be here at all is because you're a relative and Olga specifically allowed it. If you think for one moment that I'm going to leave him alone just so you can-" You appreciate the defense, even if you know some of it comes from a need to lash out at something, anything in the wake of his mentor's betrayal, you really do. But you've spent too long around Niamh to not feel the shift in the air when she begins to draw on her power, the chemical stench of a medical site swept away by fluttering leaves in summer and dewdrops on shimmering grass as she sucks in a breath and her eyes flash crimson. You know what's next, and you're moving before you can stop yourself, your heart hammering in your chest as you cut her off before she can speak in the enchanting, compelling voice you remember all too clearly, your free hand wrapping around her wrist and squeezing gently.
"N-Niamh! It's alright. I'm not...I'm not feeling well right now. I'll be fine soon, and we can talk in your room, okay? I just need to rest a little longer." Every word feels wrong passing through your lips, but it's the best you can do. Your only concern is stopping Matthew from being her newest target. You can only hope she doesn't feel how you tremble, see the way anxious twitches wrack your muscles.
She doesn't. Instead she turns to look at you, a few tears beading in her brilliantly scarlet eyes before they spill down her cheeks, and she rubs at them with one hand before wriggling out of your grip so she can take your hand and squeeze it again.
"...Okay. If you're sure...I'm so glad you're okay..." She stays there for just a little bit too long, enough that it would make anyone uncomfortable even without your history together, before she pulls away. She doesn't hesitate in shooting a childish pout at Matthew as she passes, before she door hisses closed behind her and you finally force yourself to relax. You're still trembling a little when Matthew squeezes your shoulder a moment later.
"Are you okay? What was that about, Edward?" He doesn't look angry that you cut him off, maybe just curious. Even so, it's not a conversation you want to have, not now, not after everything.
"She was going to use magecraft on you. I just...I've seen what happens sometimes, it's not pleasant. I'll talk to her later." You speak as smoothly and as plainly as you can, desperate to get across the impression that you're alright before Matthew's better nature makes him start to pry. "I'm fine. What about you? What happened when we got back?"
"Oh. Um..." Matthew's mouth twists into a grimace as he swallows thickly, his mouth hanging open for a moment too long as he fumbles about for how best to start the tale. "You were unconscious when the Rayshift took you and the others back. Olga freaked out a little when she saw you come back with two Servants, but Caster and Archer were able to explain most of it once we got you here. Niamh was distraught, and Olga eventually decided to let her have her way since we're still dealing with the aftermath of the explosions. She put her foot down about the Servants though. They're being kept under watch until you're awake, just in case. It took a little bit to convince them, but..."
"Right. Thank you for not hurting them." Part of you is a little ashamed that was the first thought you'd spared for them, after everything they did. Still, Chaldea had been prepared for summoning Servants. They must have had some kind of plan for talking with them, even if you'd been unconscious. They'd have to have had one, if they managed to convince Archer to stay away. Circe probably helped, but if she hasn't told them her true name yet, you can only assume that they're not particularly in a trusting mood right now. That's a fire you need to put out ASAP. You reach out with your mind and find two faint connections, a familiar one with Archer and the brand new one with Circe, and with a gentle whisper you at least let them know what's happening.
<"Archer, Circe. I'm awake and I'm fine. I don't know where you are, but please just sit tight for the moment. I'll talk to Animusphere and explain everything.">
<"As you wish, Master."> Archer's reply is as prompt and rigid as you've come to expect, but you think you can feel a hint of relief. Circe, on the other hand, is far less restrained.
<"Hurry up, piglet! It's so boring being kept under watch here, they won't even let me start setting up a workshop! I hope you appreciate how well behaved I'm being for your sake, I definitely expect some compensation!">
You're a little worried about that.
<"I'm still in the medical wing. I'll be with you both as soon as I can be."> They seem satisfied with that, but that's still just one problem. There's another conversation you have to have, an elephant in the room you can't ignore.
"Matthew, I-"
"Don't." He cuts you off before you speak, giving you a small, pained smile. "You've been out a little over a day. I've had time to process it. Being tricked by a demon that could evade detection isn't any of our faults. From what I could gather...Romani Archaman died two years ago. I'll mourn as much as I can when I'm off the job, but right now neither of us can afford to break down."
"...Right." You're a little surprised by how well he's taking it, but if he's been training to be a doctor, maybe he's just better at coping than you're giving him credit for. "You're pretty well able to handle yourself for how young you are." For a moment, he looks at you in confusion, before he coughs out a choking laugh and gives you a weak grin, rubbing his eyes a little.
"How young I am? How young do you think that is, Edward?" His voice goes from sombre to almost teasing, and despite yourself you want to play along. If nothing else, then to make it better for Matthew. You hurt enough knowing Roman less than a day, but he knew Roman for eight years before the switch.
Still, there's a problem. You honestly can't figure out how old he's meant to be, if "how young you are" was enough to make Matthew smile a little.
"...Tweeeeeenty?"
"I'm twenty-four, you know."
"What."
"It's true! Do you think I'd be allowed near real patients if I hadn't at least graduated college?" It makes sense, but...
"I guess not, but you just..." You flounder as you realise that finishing that sentence might not be the best idea in the world, but Matthew is merciless, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation more pleasant even if it means embarrassing you.
"I just have a huge baby-face? Oh, I'm hurt. Poor, grizzled old man Edward thinking I was too young to be here-"
"Hey!"
He laughs, and you can't stop yourself from smiling, shaking your head and covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It's hard to think that just a few minutes ago you were shivering with fear, but hell, maybe that had been the point. Even if he's not quite as qualified as the real Romani Archaman would have been, he does have a way of making you feel at ease. He probably feels better too, now that he's had a chance to laugh and make light of something.
The sound of the door hissing open again makes your heart jolt a bit, but when you look there doesn't seem to be anyone there. Your mind is racing through the possibilities, illusion, invisible assailant, one of your Servants, but Matthew's yelp and the flash of white fluff at the bottom of your view connects it in your mind just in time for your visitor to make a familiar sound.
"Fou!"
All of a sudden, the little ball of fur is moving, lunging forward as Matthew struggles to maneuver himself away, but it's too little, too late. In a movement so smooth you have to imagine Fou practiced it somehow, he leaps up onto Matthew's lap and bounces off of it onto your bed, landing on your stomach hard enough that you give a "whoof" of air followed by a groan of pain. High speed impacts are the last thing you need when your body feels like one big bruise. When you lower your head, Fou is licking one of his paws and staring up at you almost imperiously. Over to the side, Matthew groans as he rubs his thigh.
"Not again...bad Fou. Bad!" He shakes his head before reaching over to pet the strange creature's tail with a sigh. "He's taken a real liking to you."
"Mm." You never did get a pet, worried that your lifestyle might make it hard to care for, but Fou is rapidly convincing you of the merits of the idea. You're not quite at the cooing and baby talk stage, but if he wants to be pet, then you're not going to deny him. Once both you and Matthew are gently stroking his soft fur, he seems content, giving another yip as he settles down on your lap.
"...I guess you're going to have a passenger for the next while. Once he gets like this, he'll start digging in claws if you try to make him let go, heh." Matthew's smile is softer now, and you're glad for that. You still don't want to get too close to anyone here, but you're far from heartless. Anything that helps him after what he's just learned is good. "I'm recommending a little bit more rest, but Olga was pretty clear that she wanted you to drop the Grail into storage before anything else, as soon as you woke up. It's in the basement, below Da Vinci's workshop. Just wave your communicator at the door and it should open, she mentioned she gave you access while you were out."
"Mmh. Alright." You're not particularly happy with immediately being put to work again, but given what you know about Grails, it's important to get it somewhere safe. With how things have gone so far, you can't quite discount the idea that someone might want a wish. With a groan, you sit up and reach out to grab Fou, but the little devil jumps up your arm and nestles himself around your shoulders like some kind of shawl. You're sure you look at little ridiculous and Mashu's barely-hidden smile doesn't help with that feeling, but hell, after Fuyuki having a warm, fuzzy animal close by is a luxury you'll allow yourself.
After promising to come around for another checkup before too long just to make sure that the whole Demi-Servant thing isn't having an adverse effect on you, you set out with the Grail in hand. Nothing where you are seems too out of place, but you can spot the discolored panels that dot the wall here and there, see the scorch marks and scraped steel that proves something happened. Even if the explosives were centered around the Masters, nowhere was completely spared. Between the planned explosions and the fire that came after, Chaldea's already been scarred from the enemy's first attack. That any Master survived was a miracle, that you became what you are now an even greater one.
There's a mystery to that that you still can't understand. You've never been involved with anything to do with becoming a Demi-Servant, and you don't know what could have caused it. The whispers at the back of your mind that you can just barely recall when you used your Noble Phantasm were definitely there, you know you didn't imagine them. Someone or something must have made you like this, if Niamh avoided becoming one too. But why?
"Fou!"
"...You're right. No sense thinking about it now."
Honestly, you don't know if that's what he meant at all, but you'll take the excuse. Right now, you need to get the Grail to storage. The path to the elevator isn't long, but as you walk further from where you started you're starting to see more of the aftereffects. You pass staff running this way and that, not even pausing to look at you for more than a moment before pushing past you despite your strange appearance and what you're holding. There's bits and pieces of ruined, melted steel cast about, exposed circuitry in the walls sparking and making you scoot around it to avoid being zapped. Every so often, you wrinkle your nose at the scent of burnt plastic, but compared to the horrible, ever-present smog that had been Fuyuki's last breath, you can live with it. You've been out a day, and everyone here has been working to keep humanity's last hope chugging along.
Logically, you know it's stupid to feel that way after everything that happened. But the guilt gnaws at you like starving rats anyway.
Never again.
You feel Fou poking at your cheek as you reach the elevator, and when you turn your head a little you can see him almost glaring at you. It's kind of amazing how in touch the little thing is with you. "Alright, alright...I'll focus."
The first few times you push the button for the bottom floor, nothing happens. It's only once you hold your communicator up to the blank white pad next to the panel with the buttons that anything happens, a mechanical voice playing from some hidden speaker within.
"Communicator biometric scan completed. Identity verified: Edward Dempsey, Chaldea Master 1. Access granted to high-security floor B1."
You don't exactly know what it did, but you can only assume there's something more to it than just the little wrist thing. Otherwise it'd be simple to steal it, and you doubt Olga would be that careless. When you start to move it's smooth as silk, you barely even recognise that you are moving at all. It takes you a minute to arrive, and there's a greater sense of isolation down here than there is even up above in the artificial, sterile, uniform halls of the main levels. Down here, you could easily mistake it for a prison. Fou snuggles up closer to your neck, and even if it's probably for his own benefit, you're grateful.
There's only one path, a corridor that stretches on maybe twenty or thirty metres, leading to a heavy steel door. You can practically feel the thrum of barely-contained magecraft surrounding you, and given the way it's blended technology and mystery together in every other aspect, you don't doubt that there's more protective measures hidden behind the innocuous white walls. Fortunately you seem to be accepted by it, and when you approach the enormous steel doors, there's a half-dozen heavy clicks before it starts to slide open with a sonorous groan.
Before you lies a metal platform, exposed circuitry and wires all but covering it like some mechanical nervous system. The thrum of power is greater here, enough that you can feel a headache coming on just from being around, a pressure gathering at the base of your skull. Eight round slots dot the platform, and from the way the metal in your hand heats up just from being near it, you bet that you know what they're meant for.
As you place the Grail in the first slot and step backwards, a thought occurs to you.
How did Chaldea know that it would be Grails they were looking for?
Fou's panicked chirping cuts off that line of thinking as a pillar of solid blue light erupts around the Grail, hiding it from view as the same blue light begins to streak down the platform, rushing through wires like pumping blood. The pressure on your skull grows greater and greater, machinery groaning and wind picking up around you despite how deep underground you are, and you have to close your eyes and clutch your head before the pressure makes it burst-
Your shield is on your arm now, you don't know when or how you summoned it but it's like a valve diverting the pressure, energy surging and building up until the shield is too hot to handle. With a panicked yelp you toss it to the ground, leaving it sit there before it...
Starts to glow?
Shimmering cyan pulses from the shield in waves before starting to coalesce, each pulse sending more particles of light to construct whatever it's making. After a moment, it looks vaguely like a human. After two, it seems almost like a man. And after three, the figure takes shape, stepping down off of your shield and facing you.
He's tall, about as tall as you are, and his eyes are an absolutely brilliant jade. Messy black hair frames his face, unkempt enough to be roguishly handsome without seeming genuinely untidy. A long black coat trimmed with blue and tied around the waist with a plain yellow sash covers his torso, albeit left open just enough to tease at the wiry muscles and tanned skin beneath. His trousers are the same black as the coat, tucked into white tabi that rise up halfway to his knee. Once upon a time, his clothes might have seemed extravagant, but they've become worn and faded with age, the colors dull and the fabric torn in places. One hand is covered with a glove with the fingers cut off, held loosely at his side, while the other is bare and twirls a long pipe in his fingers.
Dimly, you're aware of another connection forging itself, though the moment he opens his mouth you wish you could undo it.
"Blah, you barely look like you've got anything worth taking at all. That boa around your neck, maybe, if it wasn't really some mangy rat." He moves his pipe to his mouth and takes a quick puff, before shaking his head as he lets out a smoke-filled breath, the scent pungent enough to make your eyes water. "Well, whatever. Prostrate yourself before me and beg a bit and I'll spare you regardless."
"What." That's all you can muster at the moment, your jaw dropping at the audacity of what he just said. Your shield disappears as the figure steps down from it, and you vaguely know that you're not in danger from your own Servant, but to hear something like that?
"Come on, man, you're not deaf. I am the great thief Ishikawa Goemon! If you don't want me to rob you of what worthless possessions you have and leave you for dead, then I expect a little begging! Some pleading! I wouldn't say no to some blubbering either!"
"What?" He gives a smug chuckle at your reaction that instantly makes you want to punch his face in, but you manage to restrain yourself just enough for him to continue on.
"Oh, alright, alright. I got filled in when I got summoned, hm? World in danger, nothing left for me to take if it all goes kaput, I'm in. But just so we're clear, I'll be calling the shots around here, m'kay? We've got to do the formalities still, though. Blah blah, I ask of...blah, blah. Are you my Master or not?"
A part of you wants to deny it just so you can watch this smug prick disappear, but you wrestle that back down and bite out a single word. "Yes."
"No! But the contract has been forged and now I'm not in danger of keeling over dead." You suck in a breath and just stare, and the look in your eyes must have been something because he inches back just a little. "Alright, alright, someone's got his panties in a twist. I'll go off and explore a little until you cool down, so-called Master. Maybe someone else will have something fun to play with!"
Before you can speak, he's vanished, and you're left to growl by yourself before you reach out with your thoughts. Funnily enough, it helps if you imagine your mind as a pair of hands, and your connection to Goemon as his throat.
<"Goemon we are in a crisis, if you make things difficult I will-">
<"Mmm, yeah yeah, whatever. You know, underlings talking back to their bosses lose their tongues in a lot of places.">
If you didn't have Fou making therapeutic purrs next to your ear, you might've punched something.
With a sigh, you reach out and start tapping on your communicator, bringing up Matthew's contact information and starting to type on the holographic display it's creating.
"Matthew, it's Edward. Grail stored, energy surge summoned another Servant. Don't know his class, true name is Ishikawa Goemon. He's eyeballing Chaldea, just make sure everyone knows he's mine and that I've got him under control."
You hit send, musing on how true that last bit is. You might have three times as many Command Spells as other Masters ever get, but they're still precious, and you don't want to waste them. With your business down there concluded, you don't want to spend too much longer getting a headache being so close to the inner workings of Chaldea, so you make your way to the lift and listen to the heavy steel doors clang shut.
As you stare at the panel, you're a little conflicted. It's not often you've got so many potential problems that you need to deal with so quickly. Figuring out what priority one is is important, and letting your Servants know too.
[ ] The cafeteria. Before anything else, you haven't eaten since before the Rayshift and you've been working damn hard. Going around putting out fires is hard enough, you'd rather not do it hungry.
[ ] The medical wing. You want to make absolutely certain there wasn't any negative effects to becoming a Demi-Servant. It's utterly unheard of, as far as you know, and you don't want to go into it blind.
[ ] Archer and Circe's room. You could let them know via your link that you'll be a bit, but frankly you'd rather Chaldea get used to the idea of your Servants being around, and you want to thank them in person anyway.
[ ] Niamh's room. The thought of it makes you feel sick with worry, but you promised and you know not to upset her by lying. Getting it out of the way might be a good idea.
[ ] Olga's office. You need a better idea of how things are overall in Chaldea right now, and Olga's your best bet. As much as you'd rather not speak with her, it's inevitable, and this way it's on your terms instead of her seeking you out.
"It will be Niamh," it whispers, taunting you with the horrible possibility that you might have endured the entirety of Fuyuki and the betrayal at its close just to be met with her face as the first thing you see. "It will be Niamh come to take you back."
With a groan, you force your eyes open, hoping that it might just be Archer with her characteristic overprotectiveness, Matthew, the actual medical officer, or even Circe just trying to sidle up to you after you forged the contract with her.
Red meets red, dull meets vibrant, and you remember that half the reason it's so hard to get rid of that little voice in your mind is because it's usually right.
"Eamon! Oh, you're awake, I'm so glad...I-I was so worried when we couldn't wake you up..." She's smiling at you, too-white teeth almost shining in the hospital-bright light of Chaldea's medical wing, and her eyes are wide and red like she's been crying. You honestly don't doubt that she has, it's always sad losing a prized pet.
White-hot spite and deathly cold fear battle out in your mind from having her so close, to being so vulnerable, and for a moment you're frozen. Niamh is too busy blubbering about how she felt to pay attention to the look on your face, but by the time she raises her head again to look you in the eye instead of whining you're at least able to pick which one to come down on. The fact that you remember what you're holding and how you got it helps a little. You're not powerless anymore.
"Don't call me that!" You whip your hand out of hers like you've been stung, all but throwing yourself away from her. If it hadn't been for the fact that your bed was up against the wall, you might have fallen off completely. Instead you're left backed against the wall, breathing hard and wincing. Your muscles still feel a little like jelly, and moving hurts a fair bit. On the upside, Niamh is looking at you like you slapped her.
Good. She deserves to feel like that.
For a few moments, there's nothing but silence, Niamh still looking stunned that you'd speak to her that way. You notice she's changed out of that bodysuit she'd worn in Fuyuki, wearing the belted white top and black skirt combination you saw a few people wearing while you were wandering around. If she's had time to change it means that there's no current crisis, which is good. It also means you've been out for a decent while, if they managed to get you set up in a private booth in the medical wing. There's no IVs or anything you need to worry about, nothing except the Grail clutched tightly in your hand. When you loosen your grip on it, your fingers ache a bit, and it's a struggle to get them to relax. At least that explains why you were still holding it, they probably couldn't pry it loose while you were out.
You're still dressed like some medieval warrior, you note, though your shield didn't appear during your freakout. Probably for the best.
"I know that it must be difficult, Ea-" Your head whips up as you hear Niamh speak, her voice quiet and dull and not at all the singsong melody you remember from your childhood. It's like she's speaking to a caged beast she's afraid might get set loose. "E-Edward. But you'll be okay. You'll be back to normal soon, and then everything will be fine. You...still remember me, don't you? Even after what happened to you? You said so earlier, didn't you?"
It takes you a moment to understand what she's talking about, but as soon as it clicks you can't help but look at her with a dumbfounded expression, something that only makes the look of unrestrained concern on her face deepen. The name, the way you've been acting towards her, that you lurched away from her as soon as you could, she thinks she knows why it's happening. You've become a Demi-Servant, after all. Perhaps that's having some effect on your mind, something that would make you treat your dear, doting sister like this.
There is, of course, no other way that you could ever possibly hate her.
You're about to reply when you hear a mechanical hiss from Chaldea's sliding doors, and you turn your head just in time to catch Matthew striding forward. His eyes are like Niamh's, red with tears, but the look on his face is resolute. He's still wearing that lab coat from before, and it strikes you that with Ro-...with Bael gone and the explosions not too long ago, Matthew must be running himself ragged, even though it was his mentor that had tricked you all, even though he must be hurting worse than anyone else. Thinking about the traitor makes your stomach lurch and your heart burn, so you don't think about him, focus on Matthew, on the way he gives an exhausted smile when you lock eyes, the kind you give when everything's gone wrong and you manage to do something right anyway, somehow.
"Edward, you've come to. I heard shouting, so I was worried...what happened? Was it a vision, or some kind of dream? I've heard Masters were meant to see the history of their Servants sometimes, but given your unique condition..." He trails off a little in an invitation for you to speak, but before you can even open your mouth you hear Niamh speak in a sickly sweet tone that makes your blood run cold, like a ripe fruit dripping with poison.
"My brother is recovering from having to fight for his life after your faulty equipment caused him to become...this. And you are interrupting. Leave us alone and go take care of the others. I'm here for him, and that's plenty." Every word makes your stomach churn, and you want to speak but you can't find your voice. It's like you're a decade and a half younger, listening to her speak during the few moments you were allowed together before she was whisked away for her studies and you were alone again. Fortunately, Matthew has no such impediment, even if he's a mundane talking to a magus. He's got steel inside him for sure.
"Edward is a patient here, and an extremely important one. The only reason you're allowed to be here at all is because you're a relative and Olga specifically allowed it. If you think for one moment that I'm going to leave him alone just so you can-" You appreciate the defense, even if you know some of it comes from a need to lash out at something, anything in the wake of his mentor's betrayal, you really do. But you've spent too long around Niamh to not feel the shift in the air when she begins to draw on her power, the chemical stench of a medical site swept away by fluttering leaves in summer and dewdrops on shimmering grass as she sucks in a breath and her eyes flash crimson. You know what's next, and you're moving before you can stop yourself, your heart hammering in your chest as you cut her off before she can speak in the enchanting, compelling voice you remember all too clearly, your free hand wrapping around her wrist and squeezing gently.
"N-Niamh! It's alright. I'm not...I'm not feeling well right now. I'll be fine soon, and we can talk in your room, okay? I just need to rest a little longer." Every word feels wrong passing through your lips, but it's the best you can do. Your only concern is stopping Matthew from being her newest target. You can only hope she doesn't feel how you tremble, see the way anxious twitches wrack your muscles.
She doesn't. Instead she turns to look at you, a few tears beading in her brilliantly scarlet eyes before they spill down her cheeks, and she rubs at them with one hand before wriggling out of your grip so she can take your hand and squeeze it again.
"...Okay. If you're sure...I'm so glad you're okay..." She stays there for just a little bit too long, enough that it would make anyone uncomfortable even without your history together, before she pulls away. She doesn't hesitate in shooting a childish pout at Matthew as she passes, before she door hisses closed behind her and you finally force yourself to relax. You're still trembling a little when Matthew squeezes your shoulder a moment later.
"Are you okay? What was that about, Edward?" He doesn't look angry that you cut him off, maybe just curious. Even so, it's not a conversation you want to have, not now, not after everything.
"She was going to use magecraft on you. I just...I've seen what happens sometimes, it's not pleasant. I'll talk to her later." You speak as smoothly and as plainly as you can, desperate to get across the impression that you're alright before Matthew's better nature makes him start to pry. "I'm fine. What about you? What happened when we got back?"
"Oh. Um..." Matthew's mouth twists into a grimace as he swallows thickly, his mouth hanging open for a moment too long as he fumbles about for how best to start the tale. "You were unconscious when the Rayshift took you and the others back. Olga freaked out a little when she saw you come back with two Servants, but Caster and Archer were able to explain most of it once we got you here. Niamh was distraught, and Olga eventually decided to let her have her way since we're still dealing with the aftermath of the explosions. She put her foot down about the Servants though. They're being kept under watch until you're awake, just in case. It took a little bit to convince them, but..."
"Right. Thank you for not hurting them." Part of you is a little ashamed that was the first thought you'd spared for them, after everything they did. Still, Chaldea had been prepared for summoning Servants. They must have had some kind of plan for talking with them, even if you'd been unconscious. They'd have to have had one, if they managed to convince Archer to stay away. Circe probably helped, but if she hasn't told them her true name yet, you can only assume that they're not particularly in a trusting mood right now. That's a fire you need to put out ASAP. You reach out with your mind and find two faint connections, a familiar one with Archer and the brand new one with Circe, and with a gentle whisper you at least let them know what's happening.
<"Archer, Circe. I'm awake and I'm fine. I don't know where you are, but please just sit tight for the moment. I'll talk to Animusphere and explain everything.">
<"As you wish, Master."> Archer's reply is as prompt and rigid as you've come to expect, but you think you can feel a hint of relief. Circe, on the other hand, is far less restrained.
<"Hurry up, piglet! It's so boring being kept under watch here, they won't even let me start setting up a workshop! I hope you appreciate how well behaved I'm being for your sake, I definitely expect some compensation!">
You're a little worried about that.
<"I'm still in the medical wing. I'll be with you both as soon as I can be."> They seem satisfied with that, but that's still just one problem. There's another conversation you have to have, an elephant in the room you can't ignore.
"Matthew, I-"
"Don't." He cuts you off before you speak, giving you a small, pained smile. "You've been out a little over a day. I've had time to process it. Being tricked by a demon that could evade detection isn't any of our faults. From what I could gather...Romani Archaman died two years ago. I'll mourn as much as I can when I'm off the job, but right now neither of us can afford to break down."
"...Right." You're a little surprised by how well he's taking it, but if he's been training to be a doctor, maybe he's just better at coping than you're giving him credit for. "You're pretty well able to handle yourself for how young you are." For a moment, he looks at you in confusion, before he coughs out a choking laugh and gives you a weak grin, rubbing his eyes a little.
"How young I am? How young do you think that is, Edward?" His voice goes from sombre to almost teasing, and despite yourself you want to play along. If nothing else, then to make it better for Matthew. You hurt enough knowing Roman less than a day, but he knew Roman for eight years before the switch.
Still, there's a problem. You honestly can't figure out how old he's meant to be, if "how young you are" was enough to make Matthew smile a little.
"...Tweeeeeenty?"
"I'm twenty-four, you know."
"What."
"It's true! Do you think I'd be allowed near real patients if I hadn't at least graduated college?" It makes sense, but...
"I guess not, but you just..." You flounder as you realise that finishing that sentence might not be the best idea in the world, but Matthew is merciless, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation more pleasant even if it means embarrassing you.
"I just have a huge baby-face? Oh, I'm hurt. Poor, grizzled old man Edward thinking I was too young to be here-"
"Hey!"
He laughs, and you can't stop yourself from smiling, shaking your head and covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It's hard to think that just a few minutes ago you were shivering with fear, but hell, maybe that had been the point. Even if he's not quite as qualified as the real Romani Archaman would have been, he does have a way of making you feel at ease. He probably feels better too, now that he's had a chance to laugh and make light of something.
The sound of the door hissing open again makes your heart jolt a bit, but when you look there doesn't seem to be anyone there. Your mind is racing through the possibilities, illusion, invisible assailant, one of your Servants, but Matthew's yelp and the flash of white fluff at the bottom of your view connects it in your mind just in time for your visitor to make a familiar sound.
"Fou!"
All of a sudden, the little ball of fur is moving, lunging forward as Matthew struggles to maneuver himself away, but it's too little, too late. In a movement so smooth you have to imagine Fou practiced it somehow, he leaps up onto Matthew's lap and bounces off of it onto your bed, landing on your stomach hard enough that you give a "whoof" of air followed by a groan of pain. High speed impacts are the last thing you need when your body feels like one big bruise. When you lower your head, Fou is licking one of his paws and staring up at you almost imperiously. Over to the side, Matthew groans as he rubs his thigh.
"Not again...bad Fou. Bad!" He shakes his head before reaching over to pet the strange creature's tail with a sigh. "He's taken a real liking to you."
"Mm." You never did get a pet, worried that your lifestyle might make it hard to care for, but Fou is rapidly convincing you of the merits of the idea. You're not quite at the cooing and baby talk stage, but if he wants to be pet, then you're not going to deny him. Once both you and Matthew are gently stroking his soft fur, he seems content, giving another yip as he settles down on your lap.
"...I guess you're going to have a passenger for the next while. Once he gets like this, he'll start digging in claws if you try to make him let go, heh." Matthew's smile is softer now, and you're glad for that. You still don't want to get too close to anyone here, but you're far from heartless. Anything that helps him after what he's just learned is good. "I'm recommending a little bit more rest, but Olga was pretty clear that she wanted you to drop the Grail into storage before anything else, as soon as you woke up. It's in the basement, below Da Vinci's workshop. Just wave your communicator at the door and it should open, she mentioned she gave you access while you were out."
"Mmh. Alright." You're not particularly happy with immediately being put to work again, but given what you know about Grails, it's important to get it somewhere safe. With how things have gone so far, you can't quite discount the idea that someone might want a wish. With a groan, you sit up and reach out to grab Fou, but the little devil jumps up your arm and nestles himself around your shoulders like some kind of shawl. You're sure you look at little ridiculous and Mashu's barely-hidden smile doesn't help with that feeling, but hell, after Fuyuki having a warm, fuzzy animal close by is a luxury you'll allow yourself.
After promising to come around for another checkup before too long just to make sure that the whole Demi-Servant thing isn't having an adverse effect on you, you set out with the Grail in hand. Nothing where you are seems too out of place, but you can spot the discolored panels that dot the wall here and there, see the scorch marks and scraped steel that proves something happened. Even if the explosives were centered around the Masters, nowhere was completely spared. Between the planned explosions and the fire that came after, Chaldea's already been scarred from the enemy's first attack. That any Master survived was a miracle, that you became what you are now an even greater one.
There's a mystery to that that you still can't understand. You've never been involved with anything to do with becoming a Demi-Servant, and you don't know what could have caused it. The whispers at the back of your mind that you can just barely recall when you used your Noble Phantasm were definitely there, you know you didn't imagine them. Someone or something must have made you like this, if Niamh avoided becoming one too. But why?
"Fou!"
"...You're right. No sense thinking about it now."
Honestly, you don't know if that's what he meant at all, but you'll take the excuse. Right now, you need to get the Grail to storage. The path to the elevator isn't long, but as you walk further from where you started you're starting to see more of the aftereffects. You pass staff running this way and that, not even pausing to look at you for more than a moment before pushing past you despite your strange appearance and what you're holding. There's bits and pieces of ruined, melted steel cast about, exposed circuitry in the walls sparking and making you scoot around it to avoid being zapped. Every so often, you wrinkle your nose at the scent of burnt plastic, but compared to the horrible, ever-present smog that had been Fuyuki's last breath, you can live with it. You've been out a day, and everyone here has been working to keep humanity's last hope chugging along.
Logically, you know it's stupid to feel that way after everything that happened. But the guilt gnaws at you like starving rats anyway.
Never again.
You feel Fou poking at your cheek as you reach the elevator, and when you turn your head a little you can see him almost glaring at you. It's kind of amazing how in touch the little thing is with you. "Alright, alright...I'll focus."
The first few times you push the button for the bottom floor, nothing happens. It's only once you hold your communicator up to the blank white pad next to the panel with the buttons that anything happens, a mechanical voice playing from some hidden speaker within.
"Communicator biometric scan completed. Identity verified: Edward Dempsey, Chaldea Master 1. Access granted to high-security floor B1."
You don't exactly know what it did, but you can only assume there's something more to it than just the little wrist thing. Otherwise it'd be simple to steal it, and you doubt Olga would be that careless. When you start to move it's smooth as silk, you barely even recognise that you are moving at all. It takes you a minute to arrive, and there's a greater sense of isolation down here than there is even up above in the artificial, sterile, uniform halls of the main levels. Down here, you could easily mistake it for a prison. Fou snuggles up closer to your neck, and even if it's probably for his own benefit, you're grateful.
There's only one path, a corridor that stretches on maybe twenty or thirty metres, leading to a heavy steel door. You can practically feel the thrum of barely-contained magecraft surrounding you, and given the way it's blended technology and mystery together in every other aspect, you don't doubt that there's more protective measures hidden behind the innocuous white walls. Fortunately you seem to be accepted by it, and when you approach the enormous steel doors, there's a half-dozen heavy clicks before it starts to slide open with a sonorous groan.
Before you lies a metal platform, exposed circuitry and wires all but covering it like some mechanical nervous system. The thrum of power is greater here, enough that you can feel a headache coming on just from being around, a pressure gathering at the base of your skull. Eight round slots dot the platform, and from the way the metal in your hand heats up just from being near it, you bet that you know what they're meant for.
As you place the Grail in the first slot and step backwards, a thought occurs to you.
How did Chaldea know that it would be Grails they were looking for?
Fou's panicked chirping cuts off that line of thinking as a pillar of solid blue light erupts around the Grail, hiding it from view as the same blue light begins to streak down the platform, rushing through wires like pumping blood. The pressure on your skull grows greater and greater, machinery groaning and wind picking up around you despite how deep underground you are, and you have to close your eyes and clutch your head before the pressure makes it burst-
Your shield is on your arm now, you don't know when or how you summoned it but it's like a valve diverting the pressure, energy surging and building up until the shield is too hot to handle. With a panicked yelp you toss it to the ground, leaving it sit there before it...
Starts to glow?
Shimmering cyan pulses from the shield in waves before starting to coalesce, each pulse sending more particles of light to construct whatever it's making. After a moment, it looks vaguely like a human. After two, it seems almost like a man. And after three, the figure takes shape, stepping down off of your shield and facing you.
He's tall, about as tall as you are, and his eyes are an absolutely brilliant jade. Messy black hair frames his face, unkempt enough to be roguishly handsome without seeming genuinely untidy. A long black coat trimmed with blue and tied around the waist with a plain yellow sash covers his torso, albeit left open just enough to tease at the wiry muscles and tanned skin beneath. His trousers are the same black as the coat, tucked into white tabi that rise up halfway to his knee. Once upon a time, his clothes might have seemed extravagant, but they've become worn and faded with age, the colors dull and the fabric torn in places. One hand is covered with a glove with the fingers cut off, held loosely at his side, while the other is bare and twirls a long pipe in his fingers.
Dimly, you're aware of another connection forging itself, though the moment he opens his mouth you wish you could undo it.
"Blah, you barely look like you've got anything worth taking at all. That boa around your neck, maybe, if it wasn't really some mangy rat." He moves his pipe to his mouth and takes a quick puff, before shaking his head as he lets out a smoke-filled breath, the scent pungent enough to make your eyes water. "Well, whatever. Prostrate yourself before me and beg a bit and I'll spare you regardless."
"What." That's all you can muster at the moment, your jaw dropping at the audacity of what he just said. Your shield disappears as the figure steps down from it, and you vaguely know that you're not in danger from your own Servant, but to hear something like that?
"Come on, man, you're not deaf. I am the great thief Ishikawa Goemon! If you don't want me to rob you of what worthless possessions you have and leave you for dead, then I expect a little begging! Some pleading! I wouldn't say no to some blubbering either!"
"What?" He gives a smug chuckle at your reaction that instantly makes you want to punch his face in, but you manage to restrain yourself just enough for him to continue on.
"Oh, alright, alright. I got filled in when I got summoned, hm? World in danger, nothing left for me to take if it all goes kaput, I'm in. But just so we're clear, I'll be calling the shots around here, m'kay? We've got to do the formalities still, though. Blah blah, I ask of...blah, blah. Are you my Master or not?"
A part of you wants to deny it just so you can watch this smug prick disappear, but you wrestle that back down and bite out a single word. "Yes."
"No! But the contract has been forged and now I'm not in danger of keeling over dead." You suck in a breath and just stare, and the look in your eyes must have been something because he inches back just a little. "Alright, alright, someone's got his panties in a twist. I'll go off and explore a little until you cool down, so-called Master. Maybe someone else will have something fun to play with!"
Before you can speak, he's vanished, and you're left to growl by yourself before you reach out with your thoughts. Funnily enough, it helps if you imagine your mind as a pair of hands, and your connection to Goemon as his throat.
<"Goemon we are in a crisis, if you make things difficult I will-">
<"Mmm, yeah yeah, whatever. You know, underlings talking back to their bosses lose their tongues in a lot of places.">
If you didn't have Fou making therapeutic purrs next to your ear, you might've punched something.
Class: ???
True Name: Ishikawa Goemon
Stats:-
STR: D
END: B+
AGI: B
MAG: E
LUK: C
Further details are hidden.
True Name: Ishikawa Goemon
Stats:-
STR: D
END: B+
AGI: B
MAG: E
LUK: C
Further details are hidden.
With a sigh, you reach out and start tapping on your communicator, bringing up Matthew's contact information and starting to type on the holographic display it's creating.
"Matthew, it's Edward. Grail stored, energy surge summoned another Servant. Don't know his class, true name is Ishikawa Goemon. He's eyeballing Chaldea, just make sure everyone knows he's mine and that I've got him under control."
You hit send, musing on how true that last bit is. You might have three times as many Command Spells as other Masters ever get, but they're still precious, and you don't want to waste them. With your business down there concluded, you don't want to spend too much longer getting a headache being so close to the inner workings of Chaldea, so you make your way to the lift and listen to the heavy steel doors clang shut.
As you stare at the panel, you're a little conflicted. It's not often you've got so many potential problems that you need to deal with so quickly. Figuring out what priority one is is important, and letting your Servants know too.
[ ] The cafeteria. Before anything else, you haven't eaten since before the Rayshift and you've been working damn hard. Going around putting out fires is hard enough, you'd rather not do it hungry.
[ ] The medical wing. You want to make absolutely certain there wasn't any negative effects to becoming a Demi-Servant. It's utterly unheard of, as far as you know, and you don't want to go into it blind.
[ ] Archer and Circe's room. You could let them know via your link that you'll be a bit, but frankly you'd rather Chaldea get used to the idea of your Servants being around, and you want to thank them in person anyway.
[ ] Niamh's room. The thought of it makes you feel sick with worry, but you promised and you know not to upset her by lying. Getting it out of the way might be a good idea.
[ ] Olga's office. You need a better idea of how things are overall in Chaldea right now, and Olga's your best bet. As much as you'd rather not speak with her, it's inevitable, and this way it's on your terms instead of her seeking you out.
Last edited:
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
[x] Olga's office. You need a better idea of how things are overall in Chaldea right now, and Olga's your best bet. As much as you'd rather not speak with her, it's inevitable, and this way it's on your terms instead of her seeking you out.
Report in, figure out next moves, business before pleasure.
Report in, figure out next moves, business before pleasure.
EternalObserver
eYe Gaze baCk
- Location
- The Void
[X] Olga's office. You need a better idea of how things are overall in Chaldea right now, and Olga's your best bet. As much as you'd rather not speak with her, it's inevitable, and this way it's on your terms instead of her seeking you out.
