- Location
- Somewhere North of south
Probably why Galahad is screaming
-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Save Scumming? It's on my Character sheet. (Re: Zero/Fate Grand Order)
- Thread starter Xorn
- Start date
- Crossover
No, he was screaming because he just consumed Mash's soul.
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
One can scream in anguish to the heavens for multiple reasons at once.
- Location
- northern europe
Please let this loop end quickly because I want Mash not Galahad in her body.
I know re:zero is misery pron and all that I dislike so I thought there would be some misery when I started reading this while hoping that as fanfic there would Bess of it, tolerable amount...
I was not prepared enough it seems...
You are definitely capturing the fucked up stuff. I still hope Subaru, mash and other people get their happy endings ...
You gave me hope when director survived. Please don't break my fragile hope any further.
I know re:zero is misery pron and all that I dislike so I thought there would be some misery when I started reading this while hoping that as fanfic there would Bess of it, tolerable amount...
I was not prepared enough it seems...
You are definitely capturing the fucked up stuff. I still hope Subaru, mash and other people get their happy endings ...
You gave me hope when director survived. Please don't break my fragile hope any further.
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
I mean... Fate got combined with Re-Zero and you expected less suffering? Suffering and misery are staples of both series.
RBD just means the worst is now possible without ending the story, in order for the loop to end by the rules of fate and Re: zero Subaru and Olga must first find out about what happened to Mash for maximum misery (and Hugs for Mash when Subaru RBD's)
67: Observers
Xorn
Master Procrastinator
- Location
- Somewhere I won't be able to rest in peace
67: Observers
It that sees injustice
"Ahhh! Ahhhh!!!! AHHH!!" Galahad continues to scream with Mash Kyrielight's mouth, gnashing her teeth, and clawing the dusty ground with such force as to break the girl's fingernails.
It isn't fair. Every fiber of Galahad's being screams that this isn't fair. That Mash Kyrielight should die, while he, her killer, survives. That a simple series of tiny stumbles on his part should claim the life of a girl who never asked to be part of any of this. That of those who worked to inflict such a fate upon this innocent girl, many yet live within Chaldea - and those who perished in the blast at the start of everything shall surely be remembered as heroes, who gave their lives for humanity.
Why is this allowed? Why was the world created in such a way? The innocent suffer, and the villainous prosper - again, and again, the knight has seen it. The promise of Heaven, and the Final Judgment, can only take one so far.
A white-furred creature observes Galahad's despair in silence. It already knows all. From the start, there was disparity. From the start of humanity, all has been injustice.
A blue hologram appears from Mash Kyrielight's wrist communicator. The director of Chaldea shouts for the Grail Knight to come to his senses. A vain thread of hope is offered - an anecdote of how Saint George once raised a dead man to life.
-Unlikely, Cath Palug decides. And even if he should, what would it amount to? A miracle used for this one homunculus girl set to expire within the year. What of the thousands of innocents slain in this singularity who might yet live full happy lives?
Comparison. Comparison. It all comes down to comparison.
How can this fate be made right? How can the scales be balanced in this impossible equation? How can Mash Kyrielight be given a fair life?
Familiar instincts rise to the surface as the Beast of Gaia snarls slightly. Salvation was always found in its claws and fangs. When the village is snuffed out, there are no more poor and hungry. When all mankind rests within its stomach, all shall be equal.
A faint scent curls under the nascent Beast's nose, and it pauses, glancing west. A black shadow rises there, cresting over the hilltops, a noxious envious fog that swallows everything.
Cath Palug blinks once, twice, and retracts its claws.
The imbalance remains. Nothing is put right. But Beast IV reconsiders, turns its back on Paris, and begins to slink away.
"In the end, this is such a small thing - nothing worth becoming such an unsightly creature over." It notes to itself.
***
She who sees infidelity
All is well. She is here, and he is here, and she is with him.
In a garden of shadows, Satella tenderly embraces her love, and is happy at last. There is nothing else. She needs nothing else. The world can simply disappear, so long as she can be by his side.
There is no need for words. The other onlookers in the shadow garden are quiet, and Satella rests gently in his arms.
And then, the illusion shatters like glass, and the Witch understands the deceit.
It's difficult, for her to truly grasp the exact events unfolding in another universe. That was why such a lie could deceive her. That is why the lie has deceived her no less than twenty four times at this point.
The Witch ought to know better. The Witch ought to be able to see that the same lie used over and over ought to be transparent.
But it is a beautiful lie, and so Satella can't help but fall for it every single time, even as she fell for her love years and years ago.
But now the lie is broken, and the Witch's attention is drawn to-
THEY KNOW. SOMEONE KNOWS.
WHO IS IT WHO IS IT WHO IS IT WHO IS IT
NO ONE ELSE CAN KNOW ONLY ME ONLY US OUR SECRET TOGETHER YOU AND ME AND YOU AND ME ONLY US NO ONE ELSE
Memory recalls, a world Natsuki Subaru has forgotten. A clash at the end of time. A futile battle between a Witch whose grasp was time itself, and a man who believed he had slipped the fetters of time and space. Between the woman once called Satella and the man once called Edmond Dantes.
She had crushed him. Torn the memories from his mind and scattered them in the trash heap of dreams beyond existence. And that insufferable tactician, grinning until the end, even as he was swallowed by her shadow. But there was another, wasn't there? A third man, a third conspirator, who had seen past Envy's Authority. An old whaler, with eyes of fire, who obliterated his body uselessly in a vain attempt to defeat her - but she had not killed him herself, and thus he evaded her.
And, of course, one more familiar stench, like a moldy piece of food that could never quite be dislodged from the trash can.
THEY CAN'T KNOW THEY CAN'T KNOW ONLY ME ONLY HIM ONLY US
She cannot reach easily into that world. Even observing it is terribly difficult. But there is another method. A sort of 'system' built into the foundation of that world.
In the year 2016, panic breaks out in Chaldea as the generators are swallowed by a black shadow.
In the year 1431, upon a patch of blood stained grass outside Paris, a set of dark purple markings manifest on a certain severed hand.
The Beast of Another World reaches down, and lifts the lost limb from its resting place. Gently, the Witch cradles the cold hand against her cheek, and for a time, Satella is satisfied.
***
He who sees victory
Within the walls of Paris, a Saint and a Sinner stand atop a heap of draconic corpses.
The first, a young man barely older than twenty, stands unscathed among the carnage, and scans the horizon. "That seems to be the last of them - but I saw one or two fly past us. Can you move, Captain?"
"Of course I can. Do not patronize me, boy." The second, an old man, leans upon a bloodstained Harpoon, heaving breath after breath as blood oozes from his injuries. "And do not remove thine eyes from the sky,. The Evil Dragon may yet make his appearance."
At that moment, the conversation is interrupted as a black shadow paints itself across the western sky.
"Hmph. So she be here." Ahab comments, unsurprised.
"Find and kill Francois Prelati in the tunnels beneath Paris. If you do this, victory is assured." The one given those orders had fulfilled them perfectly. And so, just as she did the previous time he was slain, the mysterious Shadow chasing Natsuki Subaru is making her appearance.
"If Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris, victory is assured." - he supposes he can cross that one off the list as well. That just leaves two.
"Let us see, then, thou insufferable tactician - the victory thou didst promise us." Ahab mutters under his breath.
***
He who sees opportunity
With a roar, the first king of France brings his axe down, and Demon God Amdusias is finally slain.
Chlodovech does not breathe heavily. That would be unbefitting of a king. But he does lean a bit on his axe, and sit still for a few minutes to relax.
Multiple dragons, his allied servants, even his [Quinotaur] - all of them had fallen to the Demon God Pillar. It was only his impregnable defense that had kept him alive throughout the fight. Well, that and-
"-hah! It's… over?" His master asks, rising from a pile of wyvern corpses.
"Oh, so you were still alive, huh? Good for you, brat." Chlodovech says, frowning a bit at his broken train of thought.
"Yeah, I… no, you… killed me, with your axe?" She trails off, face falling into a sort of confused delirium, staggering over to the site where her doppleganger had fallen. "Yeah I.. fell here. Right? Didn't I…"
He doesn't respond, and she isn't really paying attention to him in the first place. She bends down, running her fingers through the bloodstained grass.
If she was given time, Chlodovech is sure she would be able to recover from the confusion. However-
"Honestly, what are they teaching you kids these days?" He asks, strolling towards her. "Shouldn't you know better than to lower your head around me, brat?"
Jeanne Alter's eyes widen as his legend flashes through her mind. But it's already far too late for her to stop him.
"Thus as you did to my people!" Chlodovech roars, and brings his axe down.
It that sees injustice
"Ahhh! Ahhhh!!!! AHHH!!" Galahad continues to scream with Mash Kyrielight's mouth, gnashing her teeth, and clawing the dusty ground with such force as to break the girl's fingernails.
It isn't fair. Every fiber of Galahad's being screams that this isn't fair. That Mash Kyrielight should die, while he, her killer, survives. That a simple series of tiny stumbles on his part should claim the life of a girl who never asked to be part of any of this. That of those who worked to inflict such a fate upon this innocent girl, many yet live within Chaldea - and those who perished in the blast at the start of everything shall surely be remembered as heroes, who gave their lives for humanity.
Why is this allowed? Why was the world created in such a way? The innocent suffer, and the villainous prosper - again, and again, the knight has seen it. The promise of Heaven, and the Final Judgment, can only take one so far.
A white-furred creature observes Galahad's despair in silence. It already knows all. From the start, there was disparity. From the start of humanity, all has been injustice.
A blue hologram appears from Mash Kyrielight's wrist communicator. The director of Chaldea shouts for the Grail Knight to come to his senses. A vain thread of hope is offered - an anecdote of how Saint George once raised a dead man to life.
-Unlikely, Cath Palug decides. And even if he should, what would it amount to? A miracle used for this one homunculus girl set to expire within the year. What of the thousands of innocents slain in this singularity who might yet live full happy lives?
Comparison. Comparison. It all comes down to comparison.
How can this fate be made right? How can the scales be balanced in this impossible equation? How can Mash Kyrielight be given a fair life?
Familiar instincts rise to the surface as the Beast of Gaia snarls slightly. Salvation was always found in its claws and fangs. When the village is snuffed out, there are no more poor and hungry. When all mankind rests within its stomach, all shall be equal.
A faint scent curls under the nascent Beast's nose, and it pauses, glancing west. A black shadow rises there, cresting over the hilltops, a noxious envious fog that swallows everything.
Cath Palug blinks once, twice, and retracts its claws.
The imbalance remains. Nothing is put right. But Beast IV reconsiders, turns its back on Paris, and begins to slink away.
"In the end, this is such a small thing - nothing worth becoming such an unsightly creature over." It notes to itself.
***
She who sees infidelity
All is well. She is here, and he is here, and she is with him.
In a garden of shadows, Satella tenderly embraces her love, and is happy at last. There is nothing else. She needs nothing else. The world can simply disappear, so long as she can be by his side.
There is no need for words. The other onlookers in the shadow garden are quiet, and Satella rests gently in his arms.
And then, the illusion shatters like glass, and the Witch understands the deceit.
It's difficult, for her to truly grasp the exact events unfolding in another universe. That was why such a lie could deceive her. That is why the lie has deceived her no less than twenty four times at this point.
The Witch ought to know better. The Witch ought to be able to see that the same lie used over and over ought to be transparent.
But it is a beautiful lie, and so Satella can't help but fall for it every single time, even as she fell for her love years and years ago.
But now the lie is broken, and the Witch's attention is drawn to-
THEY KNOW. SOMEONE KNOWS.
WHO IS IT WHO IS IT WHO IS IT WHO IS IT
NO ONE ELSE CAN KNOW ONLY ME ONLY US OUR SECRET TOGETHER YOU AND ME AND YOU AND ME ONLY US NO ONE ELSE
Memory recalls, a world Natsuki Subaru has forgotten. A clash at the end of time. A futile battle between a Witch whose grasp was time itself, and a man who believed he had slipped the fetters of time and space. Between the woman once called Satella and the man once called Edmond Dantes.
She had crushed him. Torn the memories from his mind and scattered them in the trash heap of dreams beyond existence. And that insufferable tactician, grinning until the end, even as he was swallowed by her shadow. But there was another, wasn't there? A third man, a third conspirator, who had seen past Envy's Authority. An old whaler, with eyes of fire, who obliterated his body uselessly in a vain attempt to defeat her - but she had not killed him herself, and thus he evaded her.
And, of course, one more familiar stench, like a moldy piece of food that could never quite be dislodged from the trash can.
THEY CAN'T KNOW THEY CAN'T KNOW ONLY ME ONLY HIM ONLY US
She cannot reach easily into that world. Even observing it is terribly difficult. But there is another method. A sort of 'system' built into the foundation of that world.
In the year 2016, panic breaks out in Chaldea as the generators are swallowed by a black shadow.
In the year 1431, upon a patch of blood stained grass outside Paris, a set of dark purple markings manifest on a certain severed hand.
The Beast of Another World reaches down, and lifts the lost limb from its resting place. Gently, the Witch cradles the cold hand against her cheek, and for a time, Satella is satisfied.
***
He who sees victory
Within the walls of Paris, a Saint and a Sinner stand atop a heap of draconic corpses.
The first, a young man barely older than twenty, stands unscathed among the carnage, and scans the horizon. "That seems to be the last of them - but I saw one or two fly past us. Can you move, Captain?"
"Of course I can. Do not patronize me, boy." The second, an old man, leans upon a bloodstained Harpoon, heaving breath after breath as blood oozes from his injuries. "And do not remove thine eyes from the sky,. The Evil Dragon may yet make his appearance."
At that moment, the conversation is interrupted as a black shadow paints itself across the western sky.
"Hmph. So she be here." Ahab comments, unsurprised.
"Find and kill Francois Prelati in the tunnels beneath Paris. If you do this, victory is assured." The one given those orders had fulfilled them perfectly. And so, just as she did the previous time he was slain, the mysterious Shadow chasing Natsuki Subaru is making her appearance.
"If Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris, victory is assured." - he supposes he can cross that one off the list as well. That just leaves two.
"Let us see, then, thou insufferable tactician - the victory thou didst promise us." Ahab mutters under his breath.
***
He who sees opportunity
With a roar, the first king of France brings his axe down, and Demon God Amdusias is finally slain.
Chlodovech does not breathe heavily. That would be unbefitting of a king. But he does lean a bit on his axe, and sit still for a few minutes to relax.
Multiple dragons, his allied servants, even his [Quinotaur] - all of them had fallen to the Demon God Pillar. It was only his impregnable defense that had kept him alive throughout the fight. Well, that and-
"-hah! It's… over?" His master asks, rising from a pile of wyvern corpses.
"Oh, so you were still alive, huh? Good for you, brat." Chlodovech says, frowning a bit at his broken train of thought.
"Yeah, I… no, you… killed me, with your axe?" She trails off, face falling into a sort of confused delirium, staggering over to the site where her doppleganger had fallen. "Yeah I.. fell here. Right? Didn't I…"
He doesn't respond, and she isn't really paying attention to him in the first place. She bends down, running her fingers through the bloodstained grass.
If she was given time, Chlodovech is sure she would be able to recover from the confusion. However-
"Honestly, what are they teaching you kids these days?" He asks, strolling towards her. "Shouldn't you know better than to lower your head around me, brat?"
Jeanne Alter's eyes widen as his legend flashes through her mind. But it's already far too late for her to stop him.
"Thus as you did to my people!" Chlodovech roars, and brings his axe down.
Sorry for the delays. Good news is, the next chapter is already written and will be posted sometime tomorrow. The chapter after that is mostly done and will probably be posted Tuesday. (I wrote them out of order).
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
Wait... you wouldn't make this the successful loop. Would you?
Thegoldenboy
Slashing Through Fate
68: Without tranquility and serenity, one cannot reach far.
Xorn
Master Procrastinator
- Location
- Somewhere I won't be able to rest in peace
68: Without tranquility and serenity, one cannot reach far.
-Mash Kyrielight arrives just in time to protect me.
I'm shocked, at first. It seems unbelievable. The arrival of Mash, who I had thought dead, seems… too good to be true.
Right, so that's how it is.
"I see - I'm still trapped."
That's the obvious truth of the matter. Salvation by a total stranger, who then conveniently guides me out of the tunnels, simply because of a piece of half-finished sheet music that I just happened to have - it's too ridiculous to believe. It's nonsensical. And so it's obvious, that even after the hours, days, or weeks I spent in those tunnels, it's still not over. That all of my rescue was another illusion, that Prelati was just adding another extra layer of torment. After all-
"You already used this one, you lazy piece of shit." With a derisive laugh, I allow my body to collapse completely. "The fake rescue thing got old after the third time. Just kill me already."
Mash, or rather the illusion of her, turns slightly towards me with widened eyes. "Nice attention to detail, Prelati. A+ for effort. Unfortunately, you're still creatively bankrupt." I mumble.
The lone wyvern, beaten and bloody on the ground, starts to rise as she looks away, only for a harpoon to sail through the air to pierce its skull and finish it off.
"Thy whimperings grow intolerable, boy." A booming voice says from behind me, and a moment later, a calloused hand hauls me up, but I let my legs stay limp - there's no point, after all.. "Stand! Stand, damn thee!"
With a roll of my eyes, I glance at Ahab. "Really pulling out all the stops, aren't you? I haven't even seen this guy since the second loop."
And there's the clincher. Nothing happens whatsoever as I violate the taboo. I'm definitely still-
"I love you."
Finding my footing, I whirl around in an instant.
"I love you. I love you. I love you."
Some thirty meters away, moving slowly and yet impossibly fast - the Witch of Envy mouths a familiar refrain.
"I love you. I love you. Love me. Love me. I love you."
This proves nothing on its own - is what I want to say. But the way my soul is singing with joy at the sight of her, the way my heart fills with dread at her approach, the axact posture of her shadow-clad shoulders, the exact inflection of her confessions of love - this has to be the real thing. There's no way Prelati could have made such a perfect copy of her. It's just not possible.
This is real. All of this, is undoubtedly real. And that means-
"Aye, now thou'st done it, lad." Ahab snarls, turning to face the shadow, his broad, scarred back gleaming bronze beneath the light of dusk.
That means I've almost certainly killed us all.
"...We should probably run." I mutter numbly.
"Aye, that seems prudent." The sailor nods. "It ails me to use her so, but - [Pequod]!"
With a resounding crash, a whaling ship slams into Satella, splintering and shattering against the cobbled streets - and then, hefting me over his shoulder, the sailor takes off in an awkward staggering sprint.
…Right, he has a peg leg. And Mash's agility stat is nothing to write home about-
"Bayard!" Ahab roars. "Bayard, thou damned horse - where art thou!?"
We round a street corner - and almost crash into a screaming child.
For a minute my brain stalls – what's a kid doing in a place like this? But as I look up, and take in terrified faces peering out of windows, and the huddled shapes of cowering civilians at the edges of the street, it clicks in my head.
How did I forget? This was precisely why we came to Paris. The city had not yet fallen – und that meant, unlike La Charite and Lyon, there are still survivors in this city!
I cast a single glance backwards, at the slowly encroaching wall of shadows, just barely making out the sight of a silver-haired beauty wading amongst them, mouthing words of love.
And then, the Witch stops. As if her focus is lost – and she lifts a hidden object, shrouded in the darkness, cradling it against her cheek, facial expression lost in a strange revery.
"…What-?" I start to ask.
"Hm, distracted once more, then – how fortunate for us." Ahab notes. "Now, all of ye – flee this place! Get ye gone, lest ye be consumed by that witch!"
A brief murmur amongst the Parisians soon ascends into an all-out panic, as the men and women on the street stampede forth, fleeing into other parts of the city.
"-But wait, I'm still caught on the last thing! What do you mean she's distracted? She's supposed to -!" I cut myself off. I'm not sure what qualifies as breaking the taboo after all, and if I draw her aggro again, it could get messy. "No, it doesn't matter why she's distracted. Let's get the hell out of here. This is one mystery that can stay mysterious for all I care."
"…" Mash looks as if she wants to say something, but Ahab raises a hand, beginning once more to hobble along the street with supernatural speed.
"There will be time to exchange information later. For the time being, we must locate Bayard, and regroup with Georgius and the rest." He pauses for a moment to set me down on my feet. "Stand on thy own feet, boy. Use thy mystic code if thou must – it ill suits the Master of Chaldea to be carried about as passive as a sack of potatoes."
Potatoes.
Strange as it might be, it's a reference to vegetables that drags me back to recognition of my situation.
"Gareth…"
Gareth is dead. The smiling puppy knight is dead, and I as good as let it happen.
And not just her. Jeanne, Mozart, Marie – Every single one of my travel companions except for Mash Kyrielight has met a miserable death.
"-I can't." I mutter under my breath.
I can't allow this loop to continue. They'll stay dead, if it does.
"These kind of losses…!" Those bitter words leave my lips.
I can do it this time. I'm sure of it. Kill Prelati with a command spell, and at the same time avoid getting dragged out of the Grand Illusion by Chlodovech. We can just go around – I'm sure, if we just take the long way around, we can-
"-Didst thou truly believe victory was possible without sacrifice, Natsuki Subaru?" Ahab asks, and my unseen hand freezes behind my head. "Just what dost thou suppose Heroic Spirits are?"
"I can't accept that. With how close we got! If I had just been a bit more informed, moved a bit faster – hell, if we had just slept on the carriage on the way to Lyon instead of stopping to make camp, then we would have arrived to save Siegfried, and everything would have-!" I protest.
"-Master. Even if that's true, we can't change it now." Mash says, shaking her head. "We need to look towards the future."
"But-!"
"-Tch. I've changed my mind. Thou shalt make a perfect sack of potatoes." Ahab snarls – and then there's a blow to my neck, and everything goes dark.
***
I wake up feeling thoroughly refreshed, in the linen sheets of a plush bed. Everything rushes through my head, but somehow it feels far away, and I'm able to analyze the situation rationally.
The taboo was broken, earlier. That's why Satella appeared, because I foolishly said it out loud – had been my first thought.
But that's not right. Because, Ahab and Mash seemed to have been already aware of her presence. And, to be honest, Prelati chattered enough about [Return by Death] to break the taboo for both of us. And since she couldn't find us…
"She went on another rampage, like the sanctuary… so that's how it is." I conclude, stroking my chin.
In other words, if that time is anything to go by… hopefully the point of return will be before my conversation with Prelati.
No, there's not just that. Remember, Natsuki Subaru! Don't you remember – that bizarre first loop point, which spat me back into that ocean, even though we had made terrific progress! And the second reset point – not to the point just before the summoning, or to when we were peacefully talking inside [Grand Illusion]! Rather, Satella opted to thrust me back to when the Tarasque was chasing me, back into danger. Why? It's obvious!
Every time I have reset in this singularity, it has been to before I met Francois Prelati.
"-Wait, since when am I this insightful!?" I shout.
"-Tis not thine own power of reason, boy." Ahab mutters, materializing in the room – and all at once the feeling of serenity is broken, and wild emotional panic surges through me once more. "That much be obvious."
"What-?" I reel, trying to regain the lost clarity. "No, before we get into what the hell that was, where's Mash?"
"Fighting. The wyverns have eased off since that shadow woman made her appearance, but the lesser Dragons and Fafnir still seem content to try their luck."
"You're joking! Putting aside the Witch - who's still out there, by the way! - in what world can Mash take on multiple dragons alone-?" I shout, springing from my bed and moving towards the door, but Ahab stops me.
"Relax, boy. Georgius arrived after thou wert knocked unconscious, and he shall hold thy Witch at bay for a time yet. As for thy companion, she is not quite alone in her task." He pauses as, at that moment, an excited girlish scream splits the air, rattling the windows, followed by several screams of different pitch. "-Though at this point, I suppose she may be wishing otherwise."
"Is that… someone singing?" I ask after a moment of listening to the horrid noise. "Scream metal specifically?"
"Can something of that nature truly be called singing?" Ahab asks, and we both ponder the philosophical question for a moment. "To answer thy question about thy sudden surge of intelligence - Feng Shui, I believe he called it. That insufferable Three Kingdoms Tactician, I mean. A specific arrangement of space, to promote a specific state of existence in the occupant. In this case, the ability to think with absolute rationality. Painstakingly, that bastard taught me – the specific arrangement for this specific room, so that I might recreate it once he had disappeared."
"Ah, Feng Shui, that makes sense… not! There's so much information to unpack there it's not even funny! To start with, what do you mean 'recreate' it? I get that in theory its possible, but you'd have to have a photographic memory, along with-!"
"Aye." He affirms. "'Tis one of the class skills of the Avenger class – [Oblivion Correction]. An Avenger never forgets a single wrong perpetrated against him, no matter how much time passes. That Caster, monster that he be, engraved this arrangement and its permutations upon my very flesh, so that I might never forget it – speaking of which…" He hobbles forward, and, withdrawing an oddly shaped rock from his pocket, places it in a corner of the room, before returning to the opposite – at which point the feeling of total serenity reasserts itself. "To offset mine own presence."
I take a deep breath in, allowing my mind to settle. "I hope this guy left us something better than a room good for thinking in – a battle plan, perhaps?"
"Hmph. Of course he did. Thou hast already experienced it – or didst thou think it mere luck that thou had gotten this far? I suppose thou had no way of knowing, of the voice Sir Gareth heard from the moment of her summoning, commanding her to fight to her very death to see you to Paris safely, giving her the strength to nearly overcome the man who slew her in life." He growls out, and I blink in confusion.
"Wait, how do you-?" I can feel a bit of a headache coming on.
"She informed Mash Kyrielight of the situation whilst thou slept, and Galahad overheard – thus giving him the might to stand and fight at just the right time, and to overcome Lancelot. [Tactician's Command] – A personal skill granting the ability to enhance those under one's command. For someone of his caliber, even one sentence is enough. 'Victory is assured if Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris.' Even if the command is delivered through a proxy, 'twill be enough."
"That's nuts. You've got to be kidding – to start with, how did some guy out here in Paris know about me in the first place?" I ask, utterly baffled. And yet, even as he says it, I get the vaguest sense of correctness, a phantom memory of smoke tickling my nose.
"No, boy. Thou art incorrect – he was no stranger to thee. Nor was he here in Paris. Not until the very end." Ahab says, and for the second time in this singularity I feel my skin crawl.
"The very end…?" I repeat numbly.
"Of this singularity's previous iteration!" He barks a laugh. "Tis quite the look on thy face, boy! Did I not inform thee, that an Avenger never forgets? Not even if the currents of time move backwards."
My vision swims as his words sink in – he knows. Just like Prelati, Ahab is aware of [Return by Death] – but that isn't what truly shakes me. What truly shakes me isn't even the fact that he can remember the efforts of previous timelines. What truly shakes me is-
"So it was all the same timeline, then?" I ask, tears choking my voice as an impossible weight I had been carrying is finally lifted from my shoulders. "I'm so glad… I…"
For something like five years of subjective time, that question had haunted me – my [Return by Death], how does it work? Was I actually winding back the clock, or was I just hopping to another timeline and abandoning everyone to their fate. Ever since the Second Trial at the Echidna's Sanctuary raised that question, I had been unable to put it out of my head.
I hadn't dared ask Zelretch. "If he says the Second Trial was right, I think I might lose my mind again" – that had been my thought process.
Ahab's hand claps my shoulder once. "'Tis a heavy burden, for one as young as thee – and I am truly sorry that thou should be the one forced to bear it."
I blink fiercely, trying to force the tears back down. "I – I'm used to it. So tell me. Who was he? If he's someone I knew in the loops where Prelati was torturing me, how come he didn't show up this time?"
The old sailor gives a wry chuckle. "Simple, boy – thou didst summon Sir Gareth this time, yes? And so, there was no room for thy servant of those twenty-four loops to make his appearance. That, too, was certainly by design– there was no need for him to drain thy resources when the plan had already been made, and so he wrote himself out of it. I cannot speak for his vessel, but that was precisely the sort of unrelentingly efficient monster Kongming was."
My head swirls. Kongming? As in, that Kongming?
"Now let me tell you, Natsuki Subaru – of thy Servant, Zhuge Liang, and the scheme he carved into my skin."
-Mash Kyrielight arrives just in time to protect me.
I'm shocked, at first. It seems unbelievable. The arrival of Mash, who I had thought dead, seems… too good to be true.
Right, so that's how it is.
"I see - I'm still trapped."
That's the obvious truth of the matter. Salvation by a total stranger, who then conveniently guides me out of the tunnels, simply because of a piece of half-finished sheet music that I just happened to have - it's too ridiculous to believe. It's nonsensical. And so it's obvious, that even after the hours, days, or weeks I spent in those tunnels, it's still not over. That all of my rescue was another illusion, that Prelati was just adding another extra layer of torment. After all-
"You already used this one, you lazy piece of shit." With a derisive laugh, I allow my body to collapse completely. "The fake rescue thing got old after the third time. Just kill me already."
Mash, or rather the illusion of her, turns slightly towards me with widened eyes. "Nice attention to detail, Prelati. A+ for effort. Unfortunately, you're still creatively bankrupt." I mumble.
The lone wyvern, beaten and bloody on the ground, starts to rise as she looks away, only for a harpoon to sail through the air to pierce its skull and finish it off.
"Thy whimperings grow intolerable, boy." A booming voice says from behind me, and a moment later, a calloused hand hauls me up, but I let my legs stay limp - there's no point, after all.. "Stand! Stand, damn thee!"
With a roll of my eyes, I glance at Ahab. "Really pulling out all the stops, aren't you? I haven't even seen this guy since the second loop."
And there's the clincher. Nothing happens whatsoever as I violate the taboo. I'm definitely still-
"I love you."
Finding my footing, I whirl around in an instant.
"I love you. I love you. I love you."
Some thirty meters away, moving slowly and yet impossibly fast - the Witch of Envy mouths a familiar refrain.
"I love you. I love you. Love me. Love me. I love you."
This proves nothing on its own - is what I want to say. But the way my soul is singing with joy at the sight of her, the way my heart fills with dread at her approach, the axact posture of her shadow-clad shoulders, the exact inflection of her confessions of love - this has to be the real thing. There's no way Prelati could have made such a perfect copy of her. It's just not possible.
This is real. All of this, is undoubtedly real. And that means-
"Aye, now thou'st done it, lad." Ahab snarls, turning to face the shadow, his broad, scarred back gleaming bronze beneath the light of dusk.
That means I've almost certainly killed us all.
"...We should probably run." I mutter numbly.
"Aye, that seems prudent." The sailor nods. "It ails me to use her so, but - [Pequod]!"
With a resounding crash, a whaling ship slams into Satella, splintering and shattering against the cobbled streets - and then, hefting me over his shoulder, the sailor takes off in an awkward staggering sprint.
…Right, he has a peg leg. And Mash's agility stat is nothing to write home about-
"Bayard!" Ahab roars. "Bayard, thou damned horse - where art thou!?"
We round a street corner - and almost crash into a screaming child.
For a minute my brain stalls – what's a kid doing in a place like this? But as I look up, and take in terrified faces peering out of windows, and the huddled shapes of cowering civilians at the edges of the street, it clicks in my head.
How did I forget? This was precisely why we came to Paris. The city had not yet fallen – und that meant, unlike La Charite and Lyon, there are still survivors in this city!
I cast a single glance backwards, at the slowly encroaching wall of shadows, just barely making out the sight of a silver-haired beauty wading amongst them, mouthing words of love.
And then, the Witch stops. As if her focus is lost – and she lifts a hidden object, shrouded in the darkness, cradling it against her cheek, facial expression lost in a strange revery.
"…What-?" I start to ask.
"Hm, distracted once more, then – how fortunate for us." Ahab notes. "Now, all of ye – flee this place! Get ye gone, lest ye be consumed by that witch!"
A brief murmur amongst the Parisians soon ascends into an all-out panic, as the men and women on the street stampede forth, fleeing into other parts of the city.
"-But wait, I'm still caught on the last thing! What do you mean she's distracted? She's supposed to -!" I cut myself off. I'm not sure what qualifies as breaking the taboo after all, and if I draw her aggro again, it could get messy. "No, it doesn't matter why she's distracted. Let's get the hell out of here. This is one mystery that can stay mysterious for all I care."
"…" Mash looks as if she wants to say something, but Ahab raises a hand, beginning once more to hobble along the street with supernatural speed.
"There will be time to exchange information later. For the time being, we must locate Bayard, and regroup with Georgius and the rest." He pauses for a moment to set me down on my feet. "Stand on thy own feet, boy. Use thy mystic code if thou must – it ill suits the Master of Chaldea to be carried about as passive as a sack of potatoes."
Potatoes.
Strange as it might be, it's a reference to vegetables that drags me back to recognition of my situation.
"Gareth…"
Gareth is dead. The smiling puppy knight is dead, and I as good as let it happen.
And not just her. Jeanne, Mozart, Marie – Every single one of my travel companions except for Mash Kyrielight has met a miserable death.
"-I can't." I mutter under my breath.
I can't allow this loop to continue. They'll stay dead, if it does.
"These kind of losses…!" Those bitter words leave my lips.
I can do it this time. I'm sure of it. Kill Prelati with a command spell, and at the same time avoid getting dragged out of the Grand Illusion by Chlodovech. We can just go around – I'm sure, if we just take the long way around, we can-
"-Didst thou truly believe victory was possible without sacrifice, Natsuki Subaru?" Ahab asks, and my unseen hand freezes behind my head. "Just what dost thou suppose Heroic Spirits are?"
"I can't accept that. With how close we got! If I had just been a bit more informed, moved a bit faster – hell, if we had just slept on the carriage on the way to Lyon instead of stopping to make camp, then we would have arrived to save Siegfried, and everything would have-!" I protest.
"-Master. Even if that's true, we can't change it now." Mash says, shaking her head. "We need to look towards the future."
"But-!"
"-Tch. I've changed my mind. Thou shalt make a perfect sack of potatoes." Ahab snarls – and then there's a blow to my neck, and everything goes dark.
***
I wake up feeling thoroughly refreshed, in the linen sheets of a plush bed. Everything rushes through my head, but somehow it feels far away, and I'm able to analyze the situation rationally.
The taboo was broken, earlier. That's why Satella appeared, because I foolishly said it out loud – had been my first thought.
But that's not right. Because, Ahab and Mash seemed to have been already aware of her presence. And, to be honest, Prelati chattered enough about [Return by Death] to break the taboo for both of us. And since she couldn't find us…
"She went on another rampage, like the sanctuary… so that's how it is." I conclude, stroking my chin.
In other words, if that time is anything to go by… hopefully the point of return will be before my conversation with Prelati.
No, there's not just that. Remember, Natsuki Subaru! Don't you remember – that bizarre first loop point, which spat me back into that ocean, even though we had made terrific progress! And the second reset point – not to the point just before the summoning, or to when we were peacefully talking inside [Grand Illusion]! Rather, Satella opted to thrust me back to when the Tarasque was chasing me, back into danger. Why? It's obvious!
Every time I have reset in this singularity, it has been to before I met Francois Prelati.
"-Wait, since when am I this insightful!?" I shout.
"-Tis not thine own power of reason, boy." Ahab mutters, materializing in the room – and all at once the feeling of serenity is broken, and wild emotional panic surges through me once more. "That much be obvious."
"What-?" I reel, trying to regain the lost clarity. "No, before we get into what the hell that was, where's Mash?"
"Fighting. The wyverns have eased off since that shadow woman made her appearance, but the lesser Dragons and Fafnir still seem content to try their luck."
"You're joking! Putting aside the Witch - who's still out there, by the way! - in what world can Mash take on multiple dragons alone-?" I shout, springing from my bed and moving towards the door, but Ahab stops me.
"Relax, boy. Georgius arrived after thou wert knocked unconscious, and he shall hold thy Witch at bay for a time yet. As for thy companion, she is not quite alone in her task." He pauses as, at that moment, an excited girlish scream splits the air, rattling the windows, followed by several screams of different pitch. "-Though at this point, I suppose she may be wishing otherwise."
"Is that… someone singing?" I ask after a moment of listening to the horrid noise. "Scream metal specifically?"
"Can something of that nature truly be called singing?" Ahab asks, and we both ponder the philosophical question for a moment. "To answer thy question about thy sudden surge of intelligence - Feng Shui, I believe he called it. That insufferable Three Kingdoms Tactician, I mean. A specific arrangement of space, to promote a specific state of existence in the occupant. In this case, the ability to think with absolute rationality. Painstakingly, that bastard taught me – the specific arrangement for this specific room, so that I might recreate it once he had disappeared."
"Ah, Feng Shui, that makes sense… not! There's so much information to unpack there it's not even funny! To start with, what do you mean 'recreate' it? I get that in theory its possible, but you'd have to have a photographic memory, along with-!"
"Aye." He affirms. "'Tis one of the class skills of the Avenger class – [Oblivion Correction]. An Avenger never forgets a single wrong perpetrated against him, no matter how much time passes. That Caster, monster that he be, engraved this arrangement and its permutations upon my very flesh, so that I might never forget it – speaking of which…" He hobbles forward, and, withdrawing an oddly shaped rock from his pocket, places it in a corner of the room, before returning to the opposite – at which point the feeling of total serenity reasserts itself. "To offset mine own presence."
I take a deep breath in, allowing my mind to settle. "I hope this guy left us something better than a room good for thinking in – a battle plan, perhaps?"
"Hmph. Of course he did. Thou hast already experienced it – or didst thou think it mere luck that thou had gotten this far? I suppose thou had no way of knowing, of the voice Sir Gareth heard from the moment of her summoning, commanding her to fight to her very death to see you to Paris safely, giving her the strength to nearly overcome the man who slew her in life." He growls out, and I blink in confusion.
"Wait, how do you-?" I can feel a bit of a headache coming on.
"She informed Mash Kyrielight of the situation whilst thou slept, and Galahad overheard – thus giving him the might to stand and fight at just the right time, and to overcome Lancelot. [Tactician's Command] – A personal skill granting the ability to enhance those under one's command. For someone of his caliber, even one sentence is enough. 'Victory is assured if Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris.' Even if the command is delivered through a proxy, 'twill be enough."
"That's nuts. You've got to be kidding – to start with, how did some guy out here in Paris know about me in the first place?" I ask, utterly baffled. And yet, even as he says it, I get the vaguest sense of correctness, a phantom memory of smoke tickling my nose.
"No, boy. Thou art incorrect – he was no stranger to thee. Nor was he here in Paris. Not until the very end." Ahab says, and for the second time in this singularity I feel my skin crawl.
"The very end…?" I repeat numbly.
"Of this singularity's previous iteration!" He barks a laugh. "Tis quite the look on thy face, boy! Did I not inform thee, that an Avenger never forgets? Not even if the currents of time move backwards."
My vision swims as his words sink in – he knows. Just like Prelati, Ahab is aware of [Return by Death] – but that isn't what truly shakes me. What truly shakes me isn't even the fact that he can remember the efforts of previous timelines. What truly shakes me is-
"So it was all the same timeline, then?" I ask, tears choking my voice as an impossible weight I had been carrying is finally lifted from my shoulders. "I'm so glad… I…"
For something like five years of subjective time, that question had haunted me – my [Return by Death], how does it work? Was I actually winding back the clock, or was I just hopping to another timeline and abandoning everyone to their fate. Ever since the Second Trial at the Echidna's Sanctuary raised that question, I had been unable to put it out of my head.
I hadn't dared ask Zelretch. "If he says the Second Trial was right, I think I might lose my mind again" – that had been my thought process.
Ahab's hand claps my shoulder once. "'Tis a heavy burden, for one as young as thee – and I am truly sorry that thou should be the one forced to bear it."
I blink fiercely, trying to force the tears back down. "I – I'm used to it. So tell me. Who was he? If he's someone I knew in the loops where Prelati was torturing me, how come he didn't show up this time?"
The old sailor gives a wry chuckle. "Simple, boy – thou didst summon Sir Gareth this time, yes? And so, there was no room for thy servant of those twenty-four loops to make his appearance. That, too, was certainly by design– there was no need for him to drain thy resources when the plan had already been made, and so he wrote himself out of it. I cannot speak for his vessel, but that was precisely the sort of unrelentingly efficient monster Kongming was."
My head swirls. Kongming? As in, that Kongming?
"Now let me tell you, Natsuki Subaru – of thy Servant, Zhuge Liang, and the scheme he carved into my skin."
The promised next-day update! Don't get used to it. I wound up merging the next two chapters, so my backlog is already gone. next chapter will be posted when it's finished.
Anyway, surprise! It's ya boi, Kongming!
Chapter title is, of course, a quote from the historical Zhuge Liang.
Anyway, surprise! It's ya boi, Kongming!
Chapter title is, of course, a quote from the historical Zhuge Liang.
Teiwaz
Beloved of Adorjan.
- Location
- RUNNING AWAY
smug ass really makes you want to spit blood in frustration
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNn9NxZH2Vo
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNn9NxZH2Vo
69: All according to Plan
Xorn
Master Procrastinator
- Location
- Somewhere I won't be able to rest in peace
69: All according to Plan
The first matter is to set the stage.
The precise details of how thou experienced the previous twenty-four loops are beyond me - Oblivion Correction is not so precise a skill as to allow me perfect recall of every event which unfolded. Only those memories which I hold a 'grudge' about shall be retained. Still, there be details which I can provide, and thou deservest to hear at least them, boy.
Of twenty-four loops thy allies only reached Paris four times, and in each case, 'twas but one or two of them at most. Each of those times, thou wert absent, having been abducted by the Alchemist, and try as we might, we could not locate thee.
'Twas on the fourth of these occasions, the previous time that thou didst arrive in Paris, that I finally made the acquaintance of that abominable tactician.
***
The aftermath of thy clash with the nameless Black Knight was a scene of carnage, as always. Georgius and I arrived seconds too late, forestalled by Fafnir's intervention. Would that I knew whence that foul beast came by such a perfect sense of timing!
My first thought was that none were alive - most had already dematerialized, save a pair of normal human corpses. After all, Mash Kyrielight is a Demi-Servant, and Kongming a Pseudo-Servant. 'Tis only natural that they should leave human corpses behind.
***
"Wait, wait, Pseudo-Servant?" I blurt out, interrupting Ahab's tale. "What the hell is that?"
"Aye, I suppose thou wouldst be unaware." Ahab replies. "'Tis much the same manner of being as a Demi-Servant, though the creation process is different. The end result is still that a heroic spirit is summoned in the body of a living human, but rather than manifesting in a pre-prepared vessel, the grail itself provides one, usually the body of a former master in a Holy Grail War."
"Ah..? Is that possible? And why would that even happen?" I mumble.
"'Tis a slightly difficult matter. Unlike Demi-Servants, or the living Servants created by the Watcher class-"
"Sorry, the what now?" I interrupt, but Ahab continues to speak as if I said nothing.
"-a Pseudo-Servant acquires a living vessel because it is truly incapable of manifesting without one. Either the Spirit in question is too poorly defined to create a body for itself, or it is too incompatible with the modern era to appear without using some manner of trickery."
"Ugh, that's got to be a bad deal for whoever's getting possessed." I mutter, trying to ignore the traumatic flashback.
But you know, when you think about it, I'm someone connected to the Holy Grail now, right? Doesn't that mean I could end up as a Pseudo-Servant? Especially when there's a guy I'm pretty sure could be summoned who has that exact kind of connection with me?
…Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick. Nice work, Geuse-san. You're really climbing up the list of people I really don't want to see again.
"If thy questions are done, might I resume the tale?" Ahab asks.
"Y-yeah, sorry, go ahead."
He nods. "As we approached the bodies, he emerged from hiding - a second Kongming, identical to the corpse save for his manner of dress. While the corpse was wearing a black suit and glasses, the second one emerged from spiritual form clad in a strategist's robe and hat. I could not have detected him - his presence was terribly weak, far weaker than any servant's ought to be…"
***
"You're late." He said to me, brushing the dust from his robe.
Georgius apologized, as he is wont to do. I, however, simply scoffed at his accusation. "Do not blame me for thine own failings."
"It's not my fault, really. The plan was foolproof, as usual. But that Berserker's Luck Stat went and messed with my [Tactician's Advice]. This is why I can't stand legendary heroes - can't they just be good little stones and go where expected?" He complained - although, even while doing so, a manic grin was affixed to his face as though he couldn't have been happier. "It's been a while since I was last backed so thoroughly into a corner! "
"Thy excuses are lost upon me - from where I stand, thy strategies are naught for twenty." I answered, and in that moment, his eye fell upon me in truth.
I know not how to describe it - to say he dissected me with a glance, fails to even approach the truth of the feeling. 'Twas the gaze of a craftsman upon his tools, the gaze of a chess player upon his pawn, the gaze of a pagan god upon a desirable woman.
"Tell me more." He said, with nary an ounce of doubt. In an instant, he understood. In a glance, in the blink of an eye, he analyzed my statement, took it to be true, and began planning his next move accordingly.
I told him, of course. All that I knew, and my best guess as to the cause. Know that at the time, I had yet to link the phenomenon to thee - 'twas not an intuitive explanation, and the best guess I had was some innate distortion originating in the nature of singularities.
"Solving this kind of mystery isn't my specialty - this is what I get for sacrificing El-Melloi to fake my death." He sighed.
***
"-Wait, El-Melloi!?" I blurted. "What the hell does she have to do with this!?" I only met her once or twice at the Clock Tower, but the blonde's demonic grin is engraved into my mind.
"To my understanding, Kongming's vessel was one El-Melloi II - I never met the man, of course. The tactician used some manner of trick, sloughing off the saint graph of the living human to use him as a decoy while preserving his own life." Ahab says, and I feel myself relax a bit.
"Ah, the second, not the third… Well, I never met the guy, but if he's anything like his descendant, he's probably a piece of work who might have deserved it." I mutter. "Still, that is pretty self-serving of Kongming."
"Nay, 'twas only a matter of practicality. After all, his next words were-"
***
"If I had known that it was going to be a mystery, I would have sacrificed myself instead, and left him behind." He continued. "Well, it should work out anyway - after all, the answer is clear. The resets occur upon the death of Natsuki Subaru, my master."
"And for this, thy justification is…?" I asked.
"Simple. My master has consistently foreseen all circumstances that might get him killed, up to this point. In fact, I'd estimate it's been precisely ten times since our last arrival in Paris, yes?" Kongming said.
"...Thou art correct on thy guess. But thy theory makes no sense! If thy master is able to overcome these events through repeating them over and over, why is he arriving inconsistently? Should he not have arrived every time since his first?"
"Prelati. He's been dropping hints, this entire time, that he knew - and just after we arrived, he betrayed us, and dragged my Master away somewhere. He's playing some kind of game - erasing his memories with hypnosis, I'd wager." He answered, taking a puff of his cigar. "As for his motive… he'd probably say something annoying like, 'I always hated people who need reasons to do things.' and laugh. In other words, it's because he's a sadistic pervert."
"That doth match with my grasp of his personality." I didst reply, nodding. "But what of the gaps between thy arrivals? They have not been uniform."
He chuckled. "For that, I suppose we'd have to thank the other Avenger in this singularity. He caused my master no end of stress, and I suppose this explains it."
I raised an eyebrow. "So the enemy has one of their own, then? What manner of creature is he?"
"A slippery one, unbelievably fast - really, we wouldn't have stood a chance against him if not for my master's foresight and his own penchant for dramatic ent-" In that moment, he cut himself off and whirled around, hand outstretched, an instant before a black shadow with flaming eyes and hands appeared there. "[Unreturning Formation]!"
A series of stone columns fell, entrapping the would-be ambusher, and Kongming laughed. "I can't believe you fell for that, you buffoon! You truly can't help but take my cues, can you, Dantes!?"
"Kuh- bastard!" The man grimaced as light shining from the stone columns drove him to his knees. "Don't think that this will hold me, Kongming!"
"Of course it won't." The strategist shrugged. "But before you escape, I have a deal to offer you."
"Kuhaha! As if the likes of you could offer me anything I would take - all I desire from you is your life, Zhuge Kongming!" The man shouted in response, grinning with fury.
"That price works." Kongming answered calmly - and in a single motion, fired a bolt of energy through his own chest.
"What-!?" "Thou art mad!" Dantes and I shouted.
"Heh - now, I gave you the payment you asked for! Will you fulfill my request, oh King of the Cavern!?" Kongming asked, grinning madly, even as his Noble Phantasm began to disappear.
"...Ha! Ha! Kuhahahaha!" The man laughed, leaning backwards and covering his eyes with one hand. "Fine! Fine! How can I refuse an exchange like that!? What would you have me do? Make your plea!"
"Then - will you kill Francois Prelati, and save my master from his clutches?" he asked, face growing pale as he began to collapse to the ground. "I have no one else I can ask, much as I hate it. But you have a grudge against Prelati anyway, so… if there's any human heart left in you, please- save him."
The other man grinned wickedly. "In that case… wait and hope, Kongming."
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
At that, the strategist laughed, standing once more and brushing himself off. "Well, that part was simple enough. I wonder if he even realized I only cracked my Spirit Origin with that shot? I bet that I could have gotten away with just pretending to hit it after all."
"And what of thee?" I asked. "Dost thou realize that he intends to kill them both?"
I expected he had. He was a legendary tactician, after all, there was no chance of him missing that obvious possibility. He would doubtless have already prepared a backup plan - only needing confirmation from one more understanding of the minds of the depraved.
In truth I had underestimated the depravity of his mind.
"Of course he will - that's what I'm counting on, after all." He replied with ease, and in that moment I truly understood the manner of monster I was dealing with.
***
After that, he had me lead him to an unused room in town - the same which we now sit in. He taught me the arrangement necessary to create Feng Shui in this room - and then, he began work on his true plan.
"[Chu Shi Biao] - I suppose the simplest way to translate it would be 'Dispatch Troops'. It's my other Noble Phantasm, a report to the throne requesting the formation of a subjugation army. Under most circumstances, it allows me to grant a target 'something needed for the current situation'. But its power grows the more desperate the situation gets - meaning, in my current state, slowly dying just before the timeline resets, it's about as strong as it will ever get."
Of course, it won't do much good at this point. Like I said, everything's already coming to a close. But that's where you come in, Captain. You, who can recall the events of prior loops - I'll be entrusting you with my Noble Phantasm's delivery. It's a report, after all. It's not as though I have to be the one to deliver it. I will engrave the report within your memory, and you will bring it with you to the start of the next loop, where it can grant Natsuki Subaru 'the allies he requires for this situation'. In other words, it will manipulate the summoning system so that he can acquire the allies he needs rather than what the world decides to spit at him, and so that these allies have the instructions to succeed."
"Thou dost understand," I replied, "that I cannot recall every event of prior loops perfectly? Only wrongs perpetrated against me are certain to remain after a reset."
"Of course." He answered with a grin. "That's why I'll be carving them into your skin."
"...I think I should enjoy killing thee, if we ever meet again." I growled in response. "Very well! Do what thou wilt! But know - that some day, in some world, I shall repay thee, tactician."
"Of course." He answered. "Now, hold still. I need to make this hurt a lot, if you're going to remember it."
***
And so it was, that his stratagem was imparted to me. The criteria for Servants to be summoned, and the orders to be implanted in their mind upon summoning.
To one who was best suited to match Edmond Dantes, Fafnir, and the Black Knight in combat: "Victory is assured if Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris. Do all that you can to ensure this."
To one who was able to do so:
"Shatter the illusions of Francois Prelati. If you can achieve this, victory is assured."
To an assassin capable of achieving it:
"Find and kill Francois Prelati in the tunnels beneath Paris. If you do this, victory is assured."
And to the strongest servant able to be summoned:
"Slay the false Jeanne d'Arc and claim the Grail. If you can do this, victory is assured."
"Of course, it's not a perfect solution. It may be not all of the calls will work - especially that last one. But that's fine. Saint George ought to be powerful enough to make it work - especially with command spells backing him up. As long as Subaru can make it to Paris, and as long as Prelati ends up dead, everything should work out." He concluded - and at that moment, the black shadow that had already risen from the tunnels beneath the city some two hours prior finally broke through the defense of Saint George.
As her inky shadows crept through beneath the door, and swallowed us whole - I opted to annihilate myself, lest she erase what he had written and all be in vain.
"[From Hell's Heart, I Stab at Thee ]!"
My spear, my Noble Phantasm, to my understanding, operates on an old Zoroastrian curse - at least, this is what the blasted Parsee Fedallah told me when he created it. A curse of shared pain, inflicted upon its target, followed by annihilation of the wielder in an ultimate suicide attack.
Of course, my attack could not reach her. The shadows grasped at it and its time slowed to a crawl long before it reached her. But the second half, my own death, occurred without a hitch. And As I died, I heard the tactician's last words as the shadow swallowed him.
"Make it count, Captain. We likely have only one or two tries before she catches on."
And then I knew nothing, as the fires of my own vengeance consumed me.
***
"Well, it's not like I'm expecting that much." Kongming concluded after the old whaler disappeared. "There's still far too many mysteries, after all. The identity of that Black Knight, the reason behind Fafnir's reported change in tactics, the cause of Corday and Kiyohime's disappearances before our arrival… and of course, the question of what became of Napoleon Bonaparte."
One of those would come in to bite him, and ruin his plan. Or the Black Knight's absurd luck stat, or perhaps simply the insufficiency of Saint George's power to defeat the enemy. Regardless, he doubted it would go so simply.
"So long as we break through the obstacle of Prelati, it should work out, though - sorry, Master. I'll be needing you to die a few more times before we can really untangle this mess."
Of course, from the grin on his face, it was obvious he didn't feel sorry at all.
The first matter is to set the stage.
The precise details of how thou experienced the previous twenty-four loops are beyond me - Oblivion Correction is not so precise a skill as to allow me perfect recall of every event which unfolded. Only those memories which I hold a 'grudge' about shall be retained. Still, there be details which I can provide, and thou deservest to hear at least them, boy.
Of twenty-four loops thy allies only reached Paris four times, and in each case, 'twas but one or two of them at most. Each of those times, thou wert absent, having been abducted by the Alchemist, and try as we might, we could not locate thee.
'Twas on the fourth of these occasions, the previous time that thou didst arrive in Paris, that I finally made the acquaintance of that abominable tactician.
***
The aftermath of thy clash with the nameless Black Knight was a scene of carnage, as always. Georgius and I arrived seconds too late, forestalled by Fafnir's intervention. Would that I knew whence that foul beast came by such a perfect sense of timing!
My first thought was that none were alive - most had already dematerialized, save a pair of normal human corpses. After all, Mash Kyrielight is a Demi-Servant, and Kongming a Pseudo-Servant. 'Tis only natural that they should leave human corpses behind.
***
"Wait, wait, Pseudo-Servant?" I blurt out, interrupting Ahab's tale. "What the hell is that?"
"Aye, I suppose thou wouldst be unaware." Ahab replies. "'Tis much the same manner of being as a Demi-Servant, though the creation process is different. The end result is still that a heroic spirit is summoned in the body of a living human, but rather than manifesting in a pre-prepared vessel, the grail itself provides one, usually the body of a former master in a Holy Grail War."
"Ah..? Is that possible? And why would that even happen?" I mumble.
"'Tis a slightly difficult matter. Unlike Demi-Servants, or the living Servants created by the Watcher class-"
"Sorry, the what now?" I interrupt, but Ahab continues to speak as if I said nothing.
"-a Pseudo-Servant acquires a living vessel because it is truly incapable of manifesting without one. Either the Spirit in question is too poorly defined to create a body for itself, or it is too incompatible with the modern era to appear without using some manner of trickery."
"Ugh, that's got to be a bad deal for whoever's getting possessed." I mutter, trying to ignore the traumatic flashback.
But you know, when you think about it, I'm someone connected to the Holy Grail now, right? Doesn't that mean I could end up as a Pseudo-Servant? Especially when there's a guy I'm pretty sure could be summoned who has that exact kind of connection with me?
…Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick. Nice work, Geuse-san. You're really climbing up the list of people I really don't want to see again.
"If thy questions are done, might I resume the tale?" Ahab asks.
"Y-yeah, sorry, go ahead."
He nods. "As we approached the bodies, he emerged from hiding - a second Kongming, identical to the corpse save for his manner of dress. While the corpse was wearing a black suit and glasses, the second one emerged from spiritual form clad in a strategist's robe and hat. I could not have detected him - his presence was terribly weak, far weaker than any servant's ought to be…"
***
"You're late." He said to me, brushing the dust from his robe.
Georgius apologized, as he is wont to do. I, however, simply scoffed at his accusation. "Do not blame me for thine own failings."
"It's not my fault, really. The plan was foolproof, as usual. But that Berserker's Luck Stat went and messed with my [Tactician's Advice]. This is why I can't stand legendary heroes - can't they just be good little stones and go where expected?" He complained - although, even while doing so, a manic grin was affixed to his face as though he couldn't have been happier. "It's been a while since I was last backed so thoroughly into a corner! "
"Thy excuses are lost upon me - from where I stand, thy strategies are naught for twenty." I answered, and in that moment, his eye fell upon me in truth.
I know not how to describe it - to say he dissected me with a glance, fails to even approach the truth of the feeling. 'Twas the gaze of a craftsman upon his tools, the gaze of a chess player upon his pawn, the gaze of a pagan god upon a desirable woman.
"Tell me more." He said, with nary an ounce of doubt. In an instant, he understood. In a glance, in the blink of an eye, he analyzed my statement, took it to be true, and began planning his next move accordingly.
I told him, of course. All that I knew, and my best guess as to the cause. Know that at the time, I had yet to link the phenomenon to thee - 'twas not an intuitive explanation, and the best guess I had was some innate distortion originating in the nature of singularities.
"Solving this kind of mystery isn't my specialty - this is what I get for sacrificing El-Melloi to fake my death." He sighed.
***
"-Wait, El-Melloi!?" I blurted. "What the hell does she have to do with this!?" I only met her once or twice at the Clock Tower, but the blonde's demonic grin is engraved into my mind.
"To my understanding, Kongming's vessel was one El-Melloi II - I never met the man, of course. The tactician used some manner of trick, sloughing off the saint graph of the living human to use him as a decoy while preserving his own life." Ahab says, and I feel myself relax a bit.
"Ah, the second, not the third… Well, I never met the guy, but if he's anything like his descendant, he's probably a piece of work who might have deserved it." I mutter. "Still, that is pretty self-serving of Kongming."
"Nay, 'twas only a matter of practicality. After all, his next words were-"
***
"If I had known that it was going to be a mystery, I would have sacrificed myself instead, and left him behind." He continued. "Well, it should work out anyway - after all, the answer is clear. The resets occur upon the death of Natsuki Subaru, my master."
"And for this, thy justification is…?" I asked.
"Simple. My master has consistently foreseen all circumstances that might get him killed, up to this point. In fact, I'd estimate it's been precisely ten times since our last arrival in Paris, yes?" Kongming said.
"...Thou art correct on thy guess. But thy theory makes no sense! If thy master is able to overcome these events through repeating them over and over, why is he arriving inconsistently? Should he not have arrived every time since his first?"
"Prelati. He's been dropping hints, this entire time, that he knew - and just after we arrived, he betrayed us, and dragged my Master away somewhere. He's playing some kind of game - erasing his memories with hypnosis, I'd wager." He answered, taking a puff of his cigar. "As for his motive… he'd probably say something annoying like, 'I always hated people who need reasons to do things.' and laugh. In other words, it's because he's a sadistic pervert."
"That doth match with my grasp of his personality." I didst reply, nodding. "But what of the gaps between thy arrivals? They have not been uniform."
He chuckled. "For that, I suppose we'd have to thank the other Avenger in this singularity. He caused my master no end of stress, and I suppose this explains it."
I raised an eyebrow. "So the enemy has one of their own, then? What manner of creature is he?"
"A slippery one, unbelievably fast - really, we wouldn't have stood a chance against him if not for my master's foresight and his own penchant for dramatic ent-" In that moment, he cut himself off and whirled around, hand outstretched, an instant before a black shadow with flaming eyes and hands appeared there. "[Unreturning Formation]!"
A series of stone columns fell, entrapping the would-be ambusher, and Kongming laughed. "I can't believe you fell for that, you buffoon! You truly can't help but take my cues, can you, Dantes!?"
"Kuh- bastard!" The man grimaced as light shining from the stone columns drove him to his knees. "Don't think that this will hold me, Kongming!"
"Of course it won't." The strategist shrugged. "But before you escape, I have a deal to offer you."
"Kuhaha! As if the likes of you could offer me anything I would take - all I desire from you is your life, Zhuge Kongming!" The man shouted in response, grinning with fury.
"That price works." Kongming answered calmly - and in a single motion, fired a bolt of energy through his own chest.
"What-!?" "Thou art mad!" Dantes and I shouted.
"Heh - now, I gave you the payment you asked for! Will you fulfill my request, oh King of the Cavern!?" Kongming asked, grinning madly, even as his Noble Phantasm began to disappear.
"...Ha! Ha! Kuhahahaha!" The man laughed, leaning backwards and covering his eyes with one hand. "Fine! Fine! How can I refuse an exchange like that!? What would you have me do? Make your plea!"
"Then - will you kill Francois Prelati, and save my master from his clutches?" he asked, face growing pale as he began to collapse to the ground. "I have no one else I can ask, much as I hate it. But you have a grudge against Prelati anyway, so… if there's any human heart left in you, please- save him."
The other man grinned wickedly. "In that case… wait and hope, Kongming."
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
At that, the strategist laughed, standing once more and brushing himself off. "Well, that part was simple enough. I wonder if he even realized I only cracked my Spirit Origin with that shot? I bet that I could have gotten away with just pretending to hit it after all."
"And what of thee?" I asked. "Dost thou realize that he intends to kill them both?"
I expected he had. He was a legendary tactician, after all, there was no chance of him missing that obvious possibility. He would doubtless have already prepared a backup plan - only needing confirmation from one more understanding of the minds of the depraved.
In truth I had underestimated the depravity of his mind.
"Of course he will - that's what I'm counting on, after all." He replied with ease, and in that moment I truly understood the manner of monster I was dealing with.
***
After that, he had me lead him to an unused room in town - the same which we now sit in. He taught me the arrangement necessary to create Feng Shui in this room - and then, he began work on his true plan.
"[Chu Shi Biao] - I suppose the simplest way to translate it would be 'Dispatch Troops'. It's my other Noble Phantasm, a report to the throne requesting the formation of a subjugation army. Under most circumstances, it allows me to grant a target 'something needed for the current situation'. But its power grows the more desperate the situation gets - meaning, in my current state, slowly dying just before the timeline resets, it's about as strong as it will ever get."
Of course, it won't do much good at this point. Like I said, everything's already coming to a close. But that's where you come in, Captain. You, who can recall the events of prior loops - I'll be entrusting you with my Noble Phantasm's delivery. It's a report, after all. It's not as though I have to be the one to deliver it. I will engrave the report within your memory, and you will bring it with you to the start of the next loop, where it can grant Natsuki Subaru 'the allies he requires for this situation'. In other words, it will manipulate the summoning system so that he can acquire the allies he needs rather than what the world decides to spit at him, and so that these allies have the instructions to succeed."
"Thou dost understand," I replied, "that I cannot recall every event of prior loops perfectly? Only wrongs perpetrated against me are certain to remain after a reset."
"Of course." He answered with a grin. "That's why I'll be carving them into your skin."
"...I think I should enjoy killing thee, if we ever meet again." I growled in response. "Very well! Do what thou wilt! But know - that some day, in some world, I shall repay thee, tactician."
"Of course." He answered. "Now, hold still. I need to make this hurt a lot, if you're going to remember it."
***
And so it was, that his stratagem was imparted to me. The criteria for Servants to be summoned, and the orders to be implanted in their mind upon summoning.
To one who was best suited to match Edmond Dantes, Fafnir, and the Black Knight in combat: "Victory is assured if Natsuki Subaru reaches Paris. Do all that you can to ensure this."
To one who was able to do so:
"Shatter the illusions of Francois Prelati. If you can achieve this, victory is assured."
To an assassin capable of achieving it:
"Find and kill Francois Prelati in the tunnels beneath Paris. If you do this, victory is assured."
And to the strongest servant able to be summoned:
"Slay the false Jeanne d'Arc and claim the Grail. If you can do this, victory is assured."
"Of course, it's not a perfect solution. It may be not all of the calls will work - especially that last one. But that's fine. Saint George ought to be powerful enough to make it work - especially with command spells backing him up. As long as Subaru can make it to Paris, and as long as Prelati ends up dead, everything should work out." He concluded - and at that moment, the black shadow that had already risen from the tunnels beneath the city some two hours prior finally broke through the defense of Saint George.
As her inky shadows crept through beneath the door, and swallowed us whole - I opted to annihilate myself, lest she erase what he had written and all be in vain.
"[
My spear, my Noble Phantasm, to my understanding, operates on an old Zoroastrian curse - at least, this is what the blasted Parsee Fedallah told me when he created it. A curse of shared pain, inflicted upon its target, followed by annihilation of the wielder in an ultimate suicide attack.
Of course, my attack could not reach her. The shadows grasped at it and its time slowed to a crawl long before it reached her. But the second half, my own death, occurred without a hitch. And As I died, I heard the tactician's last words as the shadow swallowed him.
"Make it count, Captain. We likely have only one or two tries before she catches on."
And then I knew nothing, as the fires of my own vengeance consumed me.
***
"Well, it's not like I'm expecting that much." Kongming concluded after the old whaler disappeared. "There's still far too many mysteries, after all. The identity of that Black Knight, the reason behind Fafnir's reported change in tactics, the cause of Corday and Kiyohime's disappearances before our arrival… and of course, the question of what became of Napoleon Bonaparte."
One of those would come in to bite him, and ruin his plan. Or the Black Knight's absurd luck stat, or perhaps simply the insufficiency of Saint George's power to defeat the enemy. Regardless, he doubted it would go so simply.
"So long as we break through the obstacle of Prelati, it should work out, though - sorry, Master. I'll be needing you to die a few more times before we can really untangle this mess."
Of course, from the grin on his face, it was obvious he didn't feel sorry at all.
Sorry for the delays. Some stuff happened that sort of nuked my writing confidence a bit ago, and also I've been lazy. Here's hoping this one wasn't too much of a catastrophe.
Kongming is a bit of a bastard. Anyway, the good news is we've reached roughly the halfway point of the France Singularity (kill me).
I've been contemplating naming the second half "Unreachable City of Triumph - Paris", but seeing as the Alien Sea Monster has been a bit absent I'm not sure whether calling this the end of that arc is suitable.
Kongming is a bit of a bastard. Anyway, the good news is we've reached roughly the halfway point of the France Singularity (kill me).
I've been contemplating naming the second half "Unreachable City of Triumph - Paris", but seeing as the Alien Sea Monster has been a bit absent I'm not sure whether calling this the end of that arc is suitable.
ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
70: Unreachable City of Triumph - Paris
Xorn
Master Procrastinator
- Location
- Somewhere I won't be able to rest in peace
70: Unreachable City of Triumph - Paris
The room is silent for a brief moment, as Ahab's story sinks in. A tale of comrades and events lost to time, bound up in a hell of twenty-four loops that not even I can remember. There's tons of different thoughts running through my head.
There's a feeling as though I've betrayed everyone - I should remember, dammit! It may have been painful, it may have been hell, but that's my job! I should be the one to carry their memories forward!
There's a feeling as though I've been betrayed - What the hell, Satella!? Just how naive are you, woman? For you to fall for Prelati's illusion he put on you in every loop of twenty-four… I've got some bets as to what he was showing you, so I kind of get it, but can't you learn some basic pattern recognition!?
There's lingering feelings of pain - dozens upon dozens of scars left upon my body and psyche by Prelati's torture, and above all the phantom pain of my missing hand.
But.
But, above all of these feelings, the one thought echoing, screaming out in my mind, flooded with emotions of disappointment and indignation is-!
"That plan sucks!" I shout. "The greatest Strategist of the Warring Kingdoms Period, given access to time travel and Heroic Spirits, and the best he could come up with is 'throw some different guys at it and hope it works out'!? This isn't the work of a master strategist, this is the work of some hack writer trying to invent the work of a master strategist! This movie sucks! I want my money back!"
"Aye, to call it barebones be too generous." Ahab shrugs. "Though, there is that personal skill to account for - [Tactician's Advice], which grants him the ability to deliver 100% accurate advice, even if he lacks crucial information."
"What the hell, that's broken!" I shout.
"-But, against foes with high enough luck or skill, it ceases to be effective." He concludes.
"What the hell, that's useless!" I shout.
Considering Lancelot's luck, he might as well not have mentioned the damn skill!
"Not useless, but 'twas fated to fall apart at some point close to thy arrival in Paris." Ahab notes.
"Hence he didn't even offer any advice beyond that point… what an annoying guy." I sigh. "Still, the question becomes, what the hell do we do now? Satella has already been-"
At that moment, something slams into the door, letting out a small squeak of pain. The door is flung open, and Mash enters in a hurry. "Saint George has fallen. The shadow got Fafnir and Carmilla as well, but we don't have much time."
In a brief moment, before the Feng Shui is broken, several bits of information flow through my mind.
Her outfit has changed. She's wearing a sword now. She seems more confident, despite a slight wobble here and there in her step. It's not an injury, but something about her footsteps is out of balance.
"A-ah, Master, you're awake." She notes with a stutter - no, not a stutter. It was forced. Why would she fake a stutter, and furthermore an attempt at adopting a more meek posture that doesn't quite look right.
"Master." She said "Master.", not "Senpai". No, I didn't notice, but-
The spell breaks, and it slips from my grasp - but the notion is still there.
"Mash." I say, trying to hold in my panic. "Can you step back out of the room for a second?"
With a slightly confused look, she obliges, and the rest of the puzzle falls into place.
She called me Master, not Senpai. That's not abnormal. She does that sometimes, especially in combat situations - but.
"In theory the summoned servant was supposed to possess me, allowing them to permanently manifest."
But now that I think of it, she hasn't called me Senpai once since she learned of Galahad's identity, has she?
"-Tch, so that's how it is. You can come in, Galahad." I find myself snarling.
She - no, he, cringes, looking away from me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I understand that you withheld your name for a reason. I know you never wanted this. But even so, I can't forgive you for this.
I take a deep breath. "...Is Mash-"
"I'm sorry." Galahad responds. "Although I defeated Lancelot…"
I exhale softly. It doesn't matter anyway. We're already screwed; it's not like Satella will just leave.
"H-hey, don't just step over me and ignore me!" A new voice blurts out, a vaguely familiar pink-haired girl with a faint bruise on her forehead entering the room. Behind her, a draconic tail swishes irritably. "Not after I flew you all the way here - you would have gotten eaten by that Shadow too if it wasn't for me, so give me some applause!"
Galahad's eyes widen, and he immediately kneels in apology. "Apologies, my lady - I was distracted. Know that you have my eternal gratitude for saving me." He grasps her hand, delivering the classic chivalrous kiss to her knuckles.
"T-that's right, you should - w-w-w-what are you doing to an Idol's hand you shameless girl!?" She stammers, her entire face going red as her tail stiffens. "I said applause! Applause! N-n-not this! What will my fans think! Kyaaaa!"
"What the hell is this mood whiplash..?" I mumble.
"Aye, useless though she may be in most things, Bathory doth at the very least serve as a source of amusement." Ahab says with a faint grin.
My eyes widen, fury starting to build as the pieces click together - "Bathory!?"
"That's me - but don't get me confused with that old hag, Fishie! I'm the fourteen year old me who was summoned as a lancer, the hot new idol on the Throne of Heroes, the Innocent Demoness of Fresh Blood!" She exclaims, striking a cute pose and winking. "Nice to meet you and please take care of me♡"
"H-how did you vocalize a heart as punctuation!?"
"It's an Idol's secret☆"
"Th-the star too!? She really is an Idol!"
A loud beep interrupts the back and forth, and from the wrist communicator on my remaining hand, the thoroughly frazzled-looking image of Olga Marie Animusphere appears.
"Connection stable, fucking finally - can you hear me now, Natsuki?" She asks.
"Ah, so communications were down… no wonder I hadn't heard from you." I say, slapping a fist down in my - right, I'm still down a hand.
"HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW!?" She shrieks.
"Well, I've been really busy, so-"
"No, save it, we don't have time! That shadow that ate our reactors might be gone for now, but we still don't know when it will be back - before anything else, we have reading on the grail!"
"What-!?" My entire grasp of things is sent reeling, but I don't have any time to put things together before-
"It's moving towards you - a single servant is carrying it, and from these readings it looks like-"
The door is kicked off its hinges.
"Yo, brats." The intruder says, a sharp-toothed grin on his face.
"-Chlodovech" The director concludes.
He looks like hell. A full clump of hair is missing from his bruised head, and his clothes are torn and covered in blood. His oversized axe is nowhere to be seen, and both of his arms have been twisted as if to wring the blood out of them.
"-Tch. You're still not pronouncing it right. Less stress on the syllables, girl." He rolls his eyes, before flopping towards me with one of his arms. "Hey, smelly boy. Was that shadow thing yours? It smelled the same."
I blink. "No, she-"
"Don't call up shit like that in my country, you idiot. Had to break my damn axe to get her to fuck off."
What.
"You what!?" I blurt. "How could you - no, I get that the [RESTITVTOR • ORBIS] was powerful, but with just the fragment in that axe, you-!?"
"No, I used the grail too. Put the pieces together, kid." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway… 'Shatter the illusions of Francois Prelati.', and 'Slay the false Jeanne d'Arc and claim the Grail.'. That's both orders completed, and I'll throw in sending that shadow woman home as a bonus. Don't say the elderly never did anything for you."
What.
You've got to be kidding me. This guy, who put us through hell. This guy, who killed Jeanne in front of us. This guy, who forced Amadeus to sacrifice himself-
This is your master plan, Kongming!? You bastard! I want a refund! Give me back my twenty-four loops! Undo that pain you put Ahab through and just give me Gareth from the start, you worthless fake strategist!
"-Of course, the blowback hit my Spirit Origin too. There's no place for the ghosts of old men in my country, either." The ancient king says with a dry chuckle, and his body starts to crumble into golden dust. "The grail is yours, brats. Congratulations."
Wait. No, that's not right.
"S-seriously!? There's not even a final fight or anything? You're just giving it to us?" Bathory blurts out, as gold dust starts to come off of her body as well. "What about my chance to shine- wait, wait, why am I disappearing already!?"
This isn't right! I can't just move on like this! Not after all of this!
"Thou'rt a rogue servant, art thou not?" Ahab says, as he too begins to disappear. "'Tis not odd that now that things are at a close, we shall disappear as well."
We're not even remotely satisfied, satiated, happy with this result! We need to do more, take more, learn more, until the puzzle is solved!
"I just got done with the final battle, girl. Blame yourself for missing it." Chlodovech chuckles. "One last thing, foul smelling boy-"
"No. This is the limit." I mutter, inhaling sharply.
I can't allow this to continue. Victory is in my grasp but-
I can't move forward, not like this. With the bitter taste of all those sacrifices in my mouth, as if we could be remotely satiated!
…I sidle closer to Ahab.
"Ahab, give me your harpoon." I murmur.
The whaler grins. "There are easier ways to die, boy." He mutters back.
"But none that inflict 'all your experiences' upon the target, right?"
He lets out a bark of laughter. "Take it then, thou fool!"
In a single movement, the harpoon is thrust into the floorboard.
"You really need to - you're not listening!?" Chlodovech says. "It's good advice, I promise!"
"Save it for next time, you damn shotajiji!" I shout, resting my hand on the harpoon.
For just an instant, I hesitate. Can I really do this?
Nothing is forcing my hand. I'll be casting myself back into Prelati's grasp, for sure. Can I handle his torture another time?
I can.
Is it worth it? I couldn't die just for Jeanne d'Arc. I couldn't die just for Mozart, or Gareth, or Marie.
Can I die for Mash Kyrielight?
Galahad tackles me, and I lose my grip on the harpoon.
"What are you doing, Natsuki Subaru!?" He shouts, but I-
"Thanks for the meal, Ahab." I lick the palm of my hand.
The pain is instantaneous. Blood oozes from my gums, like the teething pain from Fuyuki but a thousand times worse. My authority of [Gluttony], freshly bloomed, swallows the curse of his spear.
Echoes of experiences course through me - the agony of twenty four loops of strife against impossible odds. Torn limbs, shredded skin, bullet wounds, arrow wounds, sword wounds, knife wounds, the agony of being eaten alive by Fafnir - and more beyond even that, the clash against the whale, the numbing pain of drowning, the loss of comrades, the loss of limb, the loss of direction save that the damned whale must die.
But despite it all, it's worth it - the defenders of Paris, their names, their mannerisms, their hopes and dreams, are engraved upon me. And more importantly, those they faced - dozens of tricks I had yet to see from the enemy are laid bare. The Noble Phantasms of Dark Jeanne, Berserk Saber, Berserk Caster, and the Berserk Archer who had been conspicuously absent the entire singularity - all of them are revealed to me, along with their fighting styles.
Through it all, my heartbeat pounds between my ears like a bass drum, until suddenly, with a sharp pain in my chest, it stops, and I die screaming.
***
And awake screaming, on a horribly damaged carriage, the heavy footfalls of the Tarrasque behind us. Dimly, through the echoes of agony from Ahab's curse, I can make out the pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken fingers.
"Senpai!?" Mash shouts in worry, moving towards me, and in an instant, heedless of injuries, I find my arms wrapping around her, drawing her close, clinging in terror that if I let go she might slip away again.
"S-s-s-senpai!?" She shouts with a totally different tone, and I can't help but let out a pained laugh. "S-senpai what are y-you-?"
It's fine. This is fine. Even from all the way back here, even without Galahad's power, even as the world dissolves into white fog and we proceed into Prelati's spiderweb once more-
We can win. I'm sure of it.
The room is silent for a brief moment, as Ahab's story sinks in. A tale of comrades and events lost to time, bound up in a hell of twenty-four loops that not even I can remember. There's tons of different thoughts running through my head.
There's a feeling as though I've betrayed everyone - I should remember, dammit! It may have been painful, it may have been hell, but that's my job! I should be the one to carry their memories forward!
There's a feeling as though I've been betrayed - What the hell, Satella!? Just how naive are you, woman? For you to fall for Prelati's illusion he put on you in every loop of twenty-four… I've got some bets as to what he was showing you, so I kind of get it, but can't you learn some basic pattern recognition!?
There's lingering feelings of pain - dozens upon dozens of scars left upon my body and psyche by Prelati's torture, and above all the phantom pain of my missing hand.
But.
But, above all of these feelings, the one thought echoing, screaming out in my mind, flooded with emotions of disappointment and indignation is-!
"That plan sucks!" I shout. "The greatest Strategist of the Warring Kingdoms Period, given access to time travel and Heroic Spirits, and the best he could come up with is 'throw some different guys at it and hope it works out'!? This isn't the work of a master strategist, this is the work of some hack writer trying to invent the work of a master strategist! This movie sucks! I want my money back!"
"Aye, to call it barebones be too generous." Ahab shrugs. "Though, there is that personal skill to account for - [Tactician's Advice], which grants him the ability to deliver 100% accurate advice, even if he lacks crucial information."
"What the hell, that's broken!" I shout.
"-But, against foes with high enough luck or skill, it ceases to be effective." He concludes.
"What the hell, that's useless!" I shout.
Considering Lancelot's luck, he might as well not have mentioned the damn skill!
"Not useless, but 'twas fated to fall apart at some point close to thy arrival in Paris." Ahab notes.
"Hence he didn't even offer any advice beyond that point… what an annoying guy." I sigh. "Still, the question becomes, what the hell do we do now? Satella has already been-"
At that moment, something slams into the door, letting out a small squeak of pain. The door is flung open, and Mash enters in a hurry. "Saint George has fallen. The shadow got Fafnir and Carmilla as well, but we don't have much time."
In a brief moment, before the Feng Shui is broken, several bits of information flow through my mind.
Her outfit has changed. She's wearing a sword now. She seems more confident, despite a slight wobble here and there in her step. It's not an injury, but something about her footsteps is out of balance.
"A-ah, Master, you're awake." She notes with a stutter - no, not a stutter. It was forced. Why would she fake a stutter, and furthermore an attempt at adopting a more meek posture that doesn't quite look right.
"Master." She said "Master.", not "Senpai". No, I didn't notice, but-
The spell breaks, and it slips from my grasp - but the notion is still there.
"Mash." I say, trying to hold in my panic. "Can you step back out of the room for a second?"
With a slightly confused look, she obliges, and the rest of the puzzle falls into place.
She called me Master, not Senpai. That's not abnormal. She does that sometimes, especially in combat situations - but.
"In theory the summoned servant was supposed to possess me, allowing them to permanently manifest."
But now that I think of it, she hasn't called me Senpai once since she learned of Galahad's identity, has she?
"-Tch, so that's how it is. You can come in, Galahad." I find myself snarling.
She - no, he, cringes, looking away from me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I understand that you withheld your name for a reason. I know you never wanted this. But even so, I can't forgive you for this.
I take a deep breath. "...Is Mash-"
"I'm sorry." Galahad responds. "Although I defeated Lancelot…"
I exhale softly. It doesn't matter anyway. We're already screwed; it's not like Satella will just leave.
"H-hey, don't just step over me and ignore me!" A new voice blurts out, a vaguely familiar pink-haired girl with a faint bruise on her forehead entering the room. Behind her, a draconic tail swishes irritably. "Not after I flew you all the way here - you would have gotten eaten by that Shadow too if it wasn't for me, so give me some applause!"
Galahad's eyes widen, and he immediately kneels in apology. "Apologies, my lady - I was distracted. Know that you have my eternal gratitude for saving me." He grasps her hand, delivering the classic chivalrous kiss to her knuckles.
"T-that's right, you should - w-w-w-what are you doing to an Idol's hand you shameless girl!?" She stammers, her entire face going red as her tail stiffens. "I said applause! Applause! N-n-not this! What will my fans think! Kyaaaa!"
"What the hell is this mood whiplash..?" I mumble.
"Aye, useless though she may be in most things, Bathory doth at the very least serve as a source of amusement." Ahab says with a faint grin.
My eyes widen, fury starting to build as the pieces click together - "Bathory!?"
"That's me - but don't get me confused with that old hag, Fishie! I'm the fourteen year old me who was summoned as a lancer, the hot new idol on the Throne of Heroes, the Innocent Demoness of Fresh Blood!" She exclaims, striking a cute pose and winking. "Nice to meet you and please take care of me♡"
"H-how did you vocalize a heart as punctuation!?"
"It's an Idol's secret☆"
"Th-the star too!? She really is an Idol!"
A loud beep interrupts the back and forth, and from the wrist communicator on my remaining hand, the thoroughly frazzled-looking image of Olga Marie Animusphere appears.
"Connection stable, fucking finally - can you hear me now, Natsuki?" She asks.
"Ah, so communications were down… no wonder I hadn't heard from you." I say, slapping a fist down in my - right, I'm still down a hand.
"HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW!?" She shrieks.
"Well, I've been really busy, so-"
"No, save it, we don't have time! That shadow that ate our reactors might be gone for now, but we still don't know when it will be back - before anything else, we have reading on the grail!"
"What-!?" My entire grasp of things is sent reeling, but I don't have any time to put things together before-
"It's moving towards you - a single servant is carrying it, and from these readings it looks like-"
The door is kicked off its hinges.
"Yo, brats." The intruder says, a sharp-toothed grin on his face.
"-Chlodovech" The director concludes.
He looks like hell. A full clump of hair is missing from his bruised head, and his clothes are torn and covered in blood. His oversized axe is nowhere to be seen, and both of his arms have been twisted as if to wring the blood out of them.
"-Tch. You're still not pronouncing it right. Less stress on the syllables, girl." He rolls his eyes, before flopping towards me with one of his arms. "Hey, smelly boy. Was that shadow thing yours? It smelled the same."
I blink. "No, she-"
"Don't call up shit like that in my country, you idiot. Had to break my damn axe to get her to fuck off."
What.
"You what!?" I blurt. "How could you - no, I get that the [RESTITVTOR • ORBIS] was powerful, but with just the fragment in that axe, you-!?"
"No, I used the grail too. Put the pieces together, kid." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway… 'Shatter the illusions of Francois Prelati.', and 'Slay the false Jeanne d'Arc and claim the Grail.'. That's both orders completed, and I'll throw in sending that shadow woman home as a bonus. Don't say the elderly never did anything for you."
What.
You've got to be kidding me. This guy, who put us through hell. This guy, who killed Jeanne in front of us. This guy, who forced Amadeus to sacrifice himself-
This is your master plan, Kongming!? You bastard! I want a refund! Give me back my twenty-four loops! Undo that pain you put Ahab through and just give me Gareth from the start, you worthless fake strategist!
"-Of course, the blowback hit my Spirit Origin too. There's no place for the ghosts of old men in my country, either." The ancient king says with a dry chuckle, and his body starts to crumble into golden dust. "The grail is yours, brats. Congratulations."
Wait. No, that's not right.
"S-seriously!? There's not even a final fight or anything? You're just giving it to us?" Bathory blurts out, as gold dust starts to come off of her body as well. "What about my chance to shine- wait, wait, why am I disappearing already!?"
This isn't right! I can't just move on like this! Not after all of this!
"Thou'rt a rogue servant, art thou not?" Ahab says, as he too begins to disappear. "'Tis not odd that now that things are at a close, we shall disappear as well."
We're not even remotely satisfied, satiated, happy with this result! We need to do more, take more, learn more, until the puzzle is solved!
"I just got done with the final battle, girl. Blame yourself for missing it." Chlodovech chuckles. "One last thing, foul smelling boy-"
"No. This is the limit." I mutter, inhaling sharply.
I can't allow this to continue. Victory is in my grasp but-
I can't move forward, not like this. With the bitter taste of all those sacrifices in my mouth, as if we could be remotely satiated!
…I sidle closer to Ahab.
"Ahab, give me your harpoon." I murmur.
The whaler grins. "There are easier ways to die, boy." He mutters back.
"But none that inflict 'all your experiences' upon the target, right?"
He lets out a bark of laughter. "Take it then, thou fool!"
In a single movement, the harpoon is thrust into the floorboard.
"You really need to - you're not listening!?" Chlodovech says. "It's good advice, I promise!"
"Save it for next time, you damn shotajiji!" I shout, resting my hand on the harpoon.
For just an instant, I hesitate. Can I really do this?
Nothing is forcing my hand. I'll be casting myself back into Prelati's grasp, for sure. Can I handle his torture another time?
I can.
Is it worth it? I couldn't die just for Jeanne d'Arc. I couldn't die just for Mozart, or Gareth, or Marie.
Can I die for Mash Kyrielight?
Galahad tackles me, and I lose my grip on the harpoon.
"What are you doing, Natsuki Subaru!?" He shouts, but I-
"Thanks for the meal, Ahab." I lick the palm of my hand.
The pain is instantaneous. Blood oozes from my gums, like the teething pain from Fuyuki but a thousand times worse. My authority of [Gluttony], freshly bloomed, swallows the curse of his spear.
Echoes of experiences course through me - the agony of twenty four loops of strife against impossible odds. Torn limbs, shredded skin, bullet wounds, arrow wounds, sword wounds, knife wounds, the agony of being eaten alive by Fafnir - and more beyond even that, the clash against the whale, the numbing pain of drowning, the loss of comrades, the loss of limb, the loss of direction save that the damned whale must die.
But despite it all, it's worth it - the defenders of Paris, their names, their mannerisms, their hopes and dreams, are engraved upon me. And more importantly, those they faced - dozens of tricks I had yet to see from the enemy are laid bare. The Noble Phantasms of Dark Jeanne, Berserk Saber, Berserk Caster, and the Berserk Archer who had been conspicuously absent the entire singularity - all of them are revealed to me, along with their fighting styles.
Through it all, my heartbeat pounds between my ears like a bass drum, until suddenly, with a sharp pain in my chest, it stops, and I die screaming.
***
And awake screaming, on a horribly damaged carriage, the heavy footfalls of the Tarrasque behind us. Dimly, through the echoes of agony from Ahab's curse, I can make out the pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken fingers.
"Senpai!?" Mash shouts in worry, moving towards me, and in an instant, heedless of injuries, I find my arms wrapping around her, drawing her close, clinging in terror that if I let go she might slip away again.
"S-s-s-senpai!?" She shouts with a totally different tone, and I can't help but let out a pained laugh. "S-senpai what are y-you-?"
It's fine. This is fine. Even from all the way back here, even without Galahad's power, even as the world dissolves into white fog and we proceed into Prelati's spiderweb once more-
We can win. I'm sure of it.
Got called out by an FFnet reviewer the other day. "The only reason the singularity has taken too long is you, you know."
It hurts because he's right.
By the way, the gluttony authority in this chapter has been tentatively titled [Filth Eater]. It specializes in eating curses, but as you saw if the curse is nasty enough Subaru might just die... in this case, though, it was the cumulative damage from Prelati's torture plus the cursed harpoon that did it; if he wasnt already suffering blood loss and exhaustion he might have survived.
I'll see you guys next chapter. I should probably know better than to announce dates at this point, but let's aim for Wednesday anyway.
It hurts because he's right.
By the way, the gluttony authority in this chapter has been tentatively titled [Filth Eater]. It specializes in eating curses, but as you saw if the curse is nasty enough Subaru might just die... in this case, though, it was the cumulative damage from Prelati's torture plus the cursed harpoon that did it; if he wasnt already suffering blood loss and exhaustion he might have survived.
I'll see you guys next chapter. I should probably know better than to announce dates at this point, but let's aim for Wednesday anyway.
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ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Considering that Fake Mashes have taken entire events for the (confused due to said event) Guda to recognize, and Subaru took seconds, is pretty impressive. Subaru is really skilled, even if it's easy to forget it due to how ridiculous he can seem sometimes.
I'm glad someone can appreciate it.
- Location
- Newcastle Upon Tyne
To be fair, Subaru had access to Feng Shui boosting his observation skills this time.
- Location
- Oregon, USA
Delisciously intricate as always.
I'm not sure how you can top this singularity, honestly. It's really really good.
I'm not sure how you can top this singularity, honestly. It's really really good.
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
I'm sure Elizabeth greatly appreciates someone outright recognizing her as a proper Idol.
Well... they have singularities with much better writing to work with later!
Well... they have singularities with much better writing to work with later!
- Location
- LA Bossier
Well yes, but not untill after... That place.
Xorn
Master Procrastinator
- Location
- Somewhere I won't be able to rest in peace
It'll last exactly as long as it takes for him to actually hear her singing.
To be honest, the actual well-written singularities are the ones that are scaring me. Camelot in particular is very tightly written, and that makes it very difficult to approach that singularity in a way that's not either a canon rehash or totally unrecognizable.
In the same sense, I'm not really all that worried about Septem. Precisely because it's so poorly regarded, I'm more or less free to warp it as I see fit.
- Location
- LA Bossier
That's fair I guess. I doubt you'll get many tears about cutting the Stheno... Thing, at a bare minimum.
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
She's actually quite good when she's properly motivated.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CcgdVOYrfK8
- Location
- Newcastle Upon Tyne
The problem is her dragonic abilities make it painful to hear, regardless of whether its good or not.
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
Isn't that only A: when she's using it as an attack or B: when she's singing for selfish reasons?
I don't really know much about her lore.