Next to the open window was a pot that was filled with flowers. Some of the flowers were solidly blue, five petals surrounding the middle, with the two upper slightly overlapping with each other and the bottom petal being a little bigger than the others. The others were like little bushes with their leaves being pink flowers that almost resembled beating hearts.
Nearby, a little blond girl was laying on a hospital bed with the head of it raised, staring at what laid outside of the window. The door opened and a nurse peeked in. The girl turned her head, showing her face.
Eight year old Lily Loud looked thin, almost unhealthily so. Her eyes still glimmered with energy, yet a closer look showed that they looked a little dull. All things considered, she looked like the poster girl of every commercial that implored their viewers to help the sick people.
"Lily, your brother is here. Do you want to see him?"
Lily Loud turned her head to look at the clock and smiled seeing the time. Right on schedule, as usual. "Yes please."
As the nurse looked back, Lily couldn't help but notice the look that the nurse had on her face as she talked to her brother. It almost reminded her of how her sisters used to sigh when they heard about 'he-who-should-not-be-named.' Lily frowned.
The nurse, while very pretty, was still way too old for her brother. Sure, he was going to be 18 soon (and she ignored the pit in her stomach about that event) but there was still limits. No to mention there was a name for women like her. What was it...Liger?
It didn't matter as the idle thoughts disappeared from her mind like dew against the morning sun, as an white haired teenager popped his head in the doorway, his tired eyes lighting up as they saw her.
"Hey...how's my favorite sister?" He asked as he entered the room.
Lily's smile turned into an innocent smirk. "Am I really? I'm pretty sure you told Lola that the last time everyone visited."
Lincoln looked faux insulted as he got a nearby chair, pulled it close to Lily's bedside, and sat on it.
"What? Who was the liar that told you that?"
"You did!" Lily responded.
"I certainly did not!"
"You did! You did!" Lily said, her body clearly wanting to bounce up and down on the bed, yet unable to. "Admit it! You tell all our sisters they're your favorite!"
Lincoln exaggeratedly crossed his arms and looked away. "THE NERVE! I do not!"
Lily grinned. "Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't"
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't!"
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do!"
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do!"
"No, you don't!"
"You listen here! I do tell everyone they're my favorite, and I'll be darned if you say otherwise. So there!"
With that, Lincoln turned away again, jokingly puffing out his chest in triumph. Lily giggled as she watch her brother. Soon enough, Lincoln blinked as he seemed to realize something.
"Wait a minute…"
Lily couldn't contain herself anymore, her giggles erupting into straight laughter while Lincoln looked shocked.
"Y-You tricked me!"
Soon, Lily's subsided back into giggles, weakly wiping her tears from her eyes. "You still love me anyway."
Lincoln smiled back. "Yeah."
The two hugged, Lincoln leaning over the bed and patting Lily on her back, softly whispering.
"You're all precious to me."
He leaned back, breaking the hug. "So how are you doing, Lily? You seem to be a little happier than usual."
Lily hummed happily. "You mean besides you getting to visit today? Well… We got a new chef a while back."
Lincoln rubbed his chin at that news. "So would you say that their cooking is better or worse than dad?"
The eight year old thought for a moment. "Pretty good. Though I would like Dad's home cooking a little bit more."
Lincoln grinned. "Well, I'm sure Dad would like to hear that a lot…"
The white haired eighteen year old trailed off as he looked towards the door. Lily wasn't sure why her brother stopped, but soon heard it. There was a bit of furious whispering outside her door.
"Lincoln, what's that?" Lily asked.
Lincoln held up a finger as he got up. "Give me a moment, Lily."
It was then that Lily noticed something on her brother's hand. "Lincoln, what's that on your hand?"
"Huh?"
Without waiting, Lily grabbed hold of her brother's hand and inspected the back of it. There, practically standing out against Lincoln's pale skin, was a strange looking red colored symbol. It reminded Lily of a shield, with the design making it look like it was divided into three sections.
"This?" Lincoln asked, looking at the mark on his hand. "Oh, was kinda bored in class. Decided to doodle on my hand with marker. Now stay right there."
Lily frowned. Lincoln was hiding something. Her eyes may be starting to fail a bit, but she was confident that she saw them glowing.
Lincoln quickly got out of his chair and stuck his head out the door, talking with whoever was making that commotion out there. Whatever he said, the noise quieted. After a few more moments of conversation that Lincoln had with someone, he came back inside and sat down on the chair.
"Okay…" Lincoln paused for a moment as he collected his thoughts. Lily patiently waited, either for the explanation on what was happening out there or the real story behind Lincoln's new tattoo.
"Well, I might have accidentally signed us up to host an exchange student from England."
Lily stared at Lincoln incredulously. "How do you do that?"
Lincoln helplessly shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I filled something out by accident and mom and dad might have accidentally approved it. Look, the point is that the guy arrived yesterday, and we couldn't exactly leave him in the lurch, you know? He doesn't have enough money to rent out an apartment or a hotel room for his whole stay here, and since I moved out of my closet, we figured he could live there…"
Lily continued staring at him, still partially suspicious of his story. "How are you not in trouble?"
Lincoln shrugged, looking absolutely relieved about that fact and just as confused. "Well, Henry did come from England, and you know how Dad and everyone else is around people from England."
"True." Lily nodded, her limited life experiences still reminding her of how...obsessive her dad could be. "So his name is Henry?"
"He wants to meet you. Insists on knowing everyone from his host family. You want to?"
Lily looked down, unsure what to think of that fact. "Well...if he wants to. Though you can go ahead and tell him to cut things short if he doesn't find me interesting."
"Nonsense!" Lincoln gave a brief chuckle of disbelief. "From what I seen, he finds everyone interesting, and not just because he believes he has to be nice to everyone. So cheer up. Besides, if I'm honest, he's not the one that I'm worried about."
Lily looked at him weirdly. "Lincoln, give me a bit of credit. I was a baby when he-who-will-not-be-named first came to tutor you. I think I can control myself in front of 'Henry.'"
"No offense, Lily." Lincoln rubbed the back of his head. "But there is a reason why I can now say Hugh's name in front of every one of your sisters still in the house and not get squeals, and why I'm pretty sure that it will be the same thing when everyone else comes to visit for the holidays."
"It's okay. I'm not going to go crazy for this 'Henry', okay?"
Lincoln looked unconvinced.
"I'm not!" Lily protested.
Lincoln continued staring for a few moments, before he sighed. "Well, I really hope I'm not making a mistake here.
He got up and walked over to the door. Opening it, he stuck his head outside and talked to who she could assume was 'Henry'. "Alright, come on in."
Lincoln held the door open for 'Henry'. And someone walked in…
It was like a prince had just walked out of one of her story books. He looked young, probably in his late teens to his early twenties. His blonde hair was neatly combed with not a hair out of place and his grey eyes radiated warmth and intelligence behind a pair of glasses. He was dressed in clothes that looked to be such good tailoring that even her big sister Leni would ask for their card, with black and grey suit jacket and slacks, black boots with what looked to be gold buttons on them, black gloves on his hands, and a black and white handkerchief with a red jewel embedded in the middle.
It took Lily a few moments to realize that she had been staring and both Lincoln and Henry looked a little concerned.
"Pardon me, Miss. Lily." Lily tried her best to not squeal at the sound of Henry's voice. "My name is Henry Holmes. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Lily nodded, holding out her hand to shake hands. "Y-Y-Y-Yeah, it's great to meet you too, Henry."
Henry stared at the hand for a brief moment, before removing his glove and took her hand, holding it with the delicateness one would treat a precious jewel.
"Please, Miss Lily. The pleasure is all mine."
Lily restrained the grimace that was threatening to appear on her lips. 'Please don't…'
Henry already brushed his lips on one of her knuckles, the same way that she had seen many a gentleman had done on TV. As soon as Henry let go of her hand, Lily brought her hand to her mouth. She looked down at the very knuckle that Henry's lips had touched, two thoughts practically dominating her brain.
'I'm never washing this hand again. Also, HA! I actually got a kiss! TAKE THAT!'
"Miss Lily?"
The sound of Henry's voice snapped Lily out of her thoughts. "Yes, Henry?"
"If my actions have bothered you, I would like to apologize for my vulgarity." He said, getting a chair and sitting down on it, his head slightly bowing.
The eight year old girl shook her head. "No no no! I'm not bothered, not at all. No no no!"
Lincoln then spoke up. "Yeah… So Lily, Henry will be staying with us for maybe… three weeks?"
"Possibly a month." Henry replied idly, checking on the grocery bag that Lily just noticed he had. Realizing that the gentleman's attention was off her, Lily took the opportunity to fix her hair as best she could. Lincoln gave her a look and Lily stuck out her tongue before pulling it back as Henry looked up from her bag.
"So Henry, what's in the bag?" Lily asked, feeling both pleased that Henry brought her a present and curiosity of what it could be.
"Ah, I wished to bring you a gift to convey my hopes and prayers for the curing of your ailment. Since M-Lincoln told me that he already bought you flowers that convey that message, I had to think of another way to do so uniquely. Thankfully, the internet showed me a way to do so. Quite the marvelous invention the internet is, would you agree?"
"Yeah, Henry, it sure is!" Lily chirped. "So what is it?"
"Well, in Japan, there's a custom to peel the skin off apples and feed slices to the sick and infirm." Henry explained. Whatever else that Henry said became background noise, Lily mindlessly nodding whenever something important looked like it was being said, just focusing solely on Henry's face.
'Henry's going to feed me? BEST DAY EVER!'
Henry looked a bit sheepish, gently looking away. "I...admit that I might have been a little excessive in my purchases, but I didn't want to run the risk of not getting your preference."
Lily looked confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well," Henry checked the bag again before bringing each apple. "I have Paula Red, Ginger Gold, Gala, McIntosh, Jonamac, Golden Delicious, Honeycrisp, Empire, Jonathan, Cortland, Red Delicious, Jonagold, Fuji, Ida Red, Rome, and Braeburn."
By the end, the end table that had her pot of flowers on it had apples on every last square inch on it.
Lily blinked at the amount of apples that Henry bought. She didn't even know that there was that many kinds of apples. She looked up and saw how Henry looked a little embarrassed at his excess. She also saw the same expression on Lincoln as he looked away.
Suddenly, something clicked for her.
"Wait, you both couldn't decide on what to get well?" Lily asked, a playful smirk appearing on her lips.
Henry and Lincoln said nothing.
"Eh, I figure whatever we didn't eat, I'll take back to everyone else. We could use some more fruit in our diet." Lincoln glibly replied.
Lily looked at the two, before grinning. "Hey, Henry. You said that you read that the Japanese did this? Wasn't there an apple called a Fuji one? Let's eat that one!"
The blond gentleman nodded. Looking through the various apples, he picked one up before removing his gloves and setting them to the side. It was then that Lily realized that something was missing.
"Umm, did either of you bring a peeler or something, because if you're planning to just use your fingernails, I'm going to say no."
"Do not worry, Miss Lily." Henry assured her, reaching inside his coat to pull out a rather large knife. "I have come prepared."
Lincoln and Lily blinked.
"Was that where you were keeping that?" Lincoln asked.
Henry looked confused. "Yes?"
"Next time, just… you know."
Henry looked at his knife, before realizing something about the situation. "Oh, right. I'll think about that next time. Also, Miss Lily, I feel the need to tell you this but this will be my first attempt doing this, so if the finished product is unsatisfactory, I wish to apologize in advance."
"Oh, Henry. I'm still happy either way you're doing this." Lily smiled, her eyelashes fluttering a little bit.
"Oh, brother…" Lincoln shook his head
Henry ignored all of this, turning his full attention to the Fuji apple. Putting the blade to the skin, the gentleman began to cut the skin off. Like a sculptor chipping patiently away at a block of marble, Henry worked diligently until a perfectly peeled apple sat in his hands.
"Wow…" Lily whispered, entranced by Henry's efforts.
"Not bad for your first time." Lincoln commented.
Henry cut a wedge for Lily and held it out for her. As the little girl took it and ate it, the gentleman held out a wedge for Lincoln too. Lincoln chewed on the slice, before realizing that Henry hadn't cut a wedge out for himself. A silent conversation played out between them before Henry cut out a piece for himself and ate it without any real appetite.
"Henry, so what do you think of Royal Woods?" Lily asked, hoping to hear something positive.
Henry sat back as he pondered his answer. "I will admit, there isn't as much people as my native London. But I will say that it does have its charm."
Lily couldn't resist. "So what is London like?"
Time slipped away for Lily Loud as she and her brother listened to Henry Holmes tell about his hometown.
"Come on, Lincoln!" Rita Loud, the mother of eleven children called at the stairs. "The Love Boat is coming on."
As everyone else settled into the living room, Lynn Loud Sr came into the room, looking worriedly at the newspaper.
"Hey, Lana. You found anything wrong with the house?"
Lana looked at her dad quizzically. "Not anything that couldn't be fixed up with a little duct tape. Why?"
Lynn Sr sighed before showing the headline on the newspaper.
'LOCAL FAMILY COMATOSE! Sweetwater Family Comatose from Gas Leaks!'
"S-Sweetwater?! How's Lindsey?!" Lola shouted, concern for her beauty pageant rival's well-being.
Lynn Sr took a second look at the newspaper, before sadly shaking his head. Lola blinked before sitting back down. Lana immediately moved next to her twin and patted her on the back, completely silent.
"I...Lindsey..."
"Mom, Dad! Me and Henry are going to sleep over at Clyde's house!" Lincoln called out as he and Henry came down the stairs, holding a backpack in hand. Everyone that was in the living room looked up, a little surprised.
"Lincoln, why? It's a school night!" Rita said as she got up from the couch and came over, staring Lincoln straight in the eye.
Suddenly, Lincoln did...something and stared into his mother's eyes, and Rita stood still, her stare now blank.
"Honey?" Lynn Sr asked, before seemingly falling silent as his wife once he met Lincoln's eyes.
"L-Lincoln, what's going on?" Lisa said as she and the twins started backing away nervously.
"Don't worry…" Lincoln said as he fixed his stare on them. "Just relax."
Just like their parents, Lisa, Lola, and Lana blankly stared. There was still one sister that was missing, and Lincoln was sure she had seen everything. But he wasn't worried.
"LET ME GO!"
As sneaky as Lucy could be, she was no match for Henry's senses.
"Miss Lucy, please try to relax." Henry said in the most gentle tone he could muster as he manhandled Lucy back into the living room. Lincoln walked up to her, frowning deeply as he saw Lucy lean back from him, the only thing she could do in Henry's ironclad grip.
"L-Lincoln, what do you do to them? What's going on?"
"Don't worry, Lucy." Lincoln said as he brushed Lucy's bangs away, revealing her eyes. One moment later, and Lucy's eyes were just as blank as everyone else's.
Henry set Lucy down with the rest of her family. All of them faced Lincoln. Lincoln thought for a moment before speaking again.
"Me and Henry are in our rooms during the night, and we do not like being disturbed. If you see us coming into the house during the morning, then we went for a walk in the morning. Understand?"
With wordless nods, the rest of the family went back to what they were doing. As Lincoln exited the door, he turned to Henry. "Henry, can you check to make sure?"
Henry nodded as Lincoln closed the door behind him and started walking down the sidewalk. A few moments passed before Henry reappeared beside Lincoln as if he had been filled back into the world by some gold sparkles.
"The hypothesis is a success, Master."
Lincoln sighed in relief and nodded as the two continued walking down the sidewalk.
"Hey, Henry?" Lincoln asked as the two walked near an abandoned gas station. The two carelessly stepped on a sign that proclaimed that the building was once Flip's Food and Fuel.
"Yes, Master?" Henry said as he disappeared, only to reappear behind the door. The gentleman removed the lock, letting Lincoln through.
"Why did you choose Holmes as a last name?" Lincoln questioned as they entered what used to be Flip's office, the furniture abandoned and dusty. The white haired teen didn't mind as he put his backpack on it.
"Well," Henry looked to be in thought, remembered fonder days. "Since you insisted that I have an alias, I had to think about that. I suppose I wanted to honor my friend."
"...Wait." Lincoln looked up from his set up laptop. "Are you saying you knew Sherlock Holmes?"
Henry nodded. "He was as brilliant as the legends describe. It was a pleasure to see him work, even if I was exposed to the crimes perpetrated by that man…"
"You mean James Mor-"
"Do not say his name, master." Henry shushed Lincoln. Lincoln looked at him utterly confused.
"...Call it habit, but Sherlock had went as far as requesting Doyle to minimize that man's presence in the stories, lest he gain more influence."
"Huh." Lincoln said idly as he turned back to the booting laptop. "The more you know."
Silence reigned over the room before Henry spoke up.
"You are nervous, aren't you, master?"
Lincoln leaned back in the chair as he rubbed his face. "I guess… I'm just realizing that this is real. That magic is real, and I'm in a seven way battle royal to get a wish granting magic artifact to use for my little sister. I mean, I could practically die at any minute."
He considered his fingers before starting to count with them. "Sniped by Archer, run over by Rider, cut up by Saber, skewered by Lancer, get turned by a newt by Caster. Heck, Assassin could be standing right behind me right now."
Henry grimaced. "Please don't joke like that, Master."
"Sorry...Sorry." Lincoln apologized as he rubbed his face one more time. "Nerves are getting to me. Okay, I'm ready. You got the places that we should check out?"
"Yes, Master." Henry bowed.
Lincoln nodded. "Alright, go get them, Berserker."
As Berserker started to leave, he paused for a moment. "Master, a word before I go?"
Lincoln remained silent before slightly inclining his head.
"Master, do remember that you have a responsibility to your family to return to them not only physically safe, but as the man that they know you as. I know that this war will demand much of you, but you cannot change who you are. Remember why you fight and hold onto that reason as much as you can. I cannot… I will not play a part in another downfall."
"...Duly noted, Berserker."
With that, Berserker vanished from sight. Lincoln leaned back in his chair.
"So that what the priest meant when he said I would summon the most compatible servant I could."
An invisible and intangible Berserker rushed through the streets, going faster than any car that was still on the road. Scenery flashed by him, a blur that was still recognizable to him. His senses were concentrated all around as he strained them to listen for signs of battle.
Finally, around an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Royal Woods, one of the spots that he and his master had scouted beforehand, Berserker heard the sounds of battle. Sneaking over, he peered inside, making sure to hide himself in case any other servants happened to be watching. There, he saw it, and his grip on the doorway would have crumpled it up a little.
Two Servants, their presence marking them for the glorious Heroic Spirits they were, were engaged in pitched battle. One was a handsome dark haired man that wielded a red long spear and a golden short spear simultaneously. The spears became blurs in his hands, red and yellow colored death as the man thrust and slashed at his opponent.
His opponent was a pink haired woman dressed in a red coat and a tricorn hat that looked like British military garb from the 18th century with a large scar on her face that admittedly did little to mar her beauty. Berserker also managed to ignore how the woman's coat had exposed an almost vulgar amount of her… bountiful chest.
She continuously fired her two guns, and kicked an empty wooden crate at the man who was clearly Lancer. Lancer did not lose momentum, charging at the woman who was clear the Archer of the war while spinning his red spear, deflecting the bullets away, before swatting the crate away with his yellow spear. Archer dodged at the last second, the man embedding the red spear into the ground, only to grit her teeth as the man lashed out with the yellow spear, slashing her hand and forcing her to drop one of her flintlock pistols.
All that had taken place in the blink of an eye.
Berserker forced himself to swallow his envy. He was a servant, and his master needed information, and he was communicating with him right now.
'Berserker, do you see anything?'
Berserker absentmindedly nodded. 'Yes, I found two servants fighting each other at an abandoned warehouse at the outskirts of town.'
'Okay, great, don't need to worry about collateral. Okay, what about the servants fighting? Anything stand out about them?'
Henry watched as Archer tried fending off Lancer with one flintlock pistol, carefully looking for anything interesting. Finally, Lancer turned his face to Berserker, allowing the blond gentleman to get a good look at the man's face and what looked to be inscriptions. Berserker instantly zeroed in on one detail.
'Master, Lancer is a dark haired man who wields a red long-spear and a yellow short-spear and has a beauty spot on his face. He looks like he may hail from Ireland.'
'...The Celtic mythology has a lot of famous spearmen, right?'
'I believe so, master.'
'Right, hang on… Famous celtic spearmen with two spears and a beauty spot. Searching… Got something. We might be dealing with Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, did I pronounce that right?'
'As much as you could have, Master. And Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Diarmuid of the Love Spot, son of Donn, foster son of Aengus Og, first warrior of the Knights of Fianna.'
'...We can't let him near any of my sisters.'
'Noted. I should also mention that Archer had been injured by one of Lancer's spears, and it seems that her injury seems to be hampering her performance.'
'Gae Buidhe, Yellow Rose of Mortality, can inflict wounds that cannot be healed naturally or with magecraft. That sounds nasty, and something that we definitely don't want anywhere near him.'
Berserker nodded, before noticing Archer muttering to herself.
"ALRIGHT!" Archer said in the most boisterous voice that she could. "LET'S GET SERIOUS THEN, LANCER!"
With that, she aimed her single flintlock at Diarmuid, only for four other things to start manifesting behind her. Archer smirked as her flintlock pistol was joined by four cannons floating in the air. And they were all pointed at Diarmuid.
"Don't die too quickly now." Archer taunted.
"Of course." Diarmuid replied, settling into a runner's stance. "I cannot die here. I haven't helped my master achieve his goal yet."
Archer cocked an eyebrow before shrugging. "A loyal dog, aren't you? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now… FIRE!"
Like the shot of a starter's pistol, Diarmuid sprung forward, hoping to skewer Archer before she could fire a shot. His vision was suddenly filled with the cannonball about to connect with his face. With inhuman reaction and grace, Diarmuid dodged the first one then sidestepped the second. The Irish Spearman stopped his charge and ran to the side using the nearby crates as cover, Archer following Diarmuid's movement and bombarding him with gunfire and cannonfire.
Berserker managed to get out of the way before a cannonball smashed through the section of wall he was hiding behind.
'Alright, Berserker, get out now. We got plenty of info.'
Berserker mentally confirmed that order and was about to move out. Suddenly, a cannonball flew towards a nearby pile of crates. A blonde haired man dove out of the pile, scants seconds before the cannonball reduced the pile to splinters.
The man picked himself off the ground, snarling at the warehouse as he wiped the dust off his finely made clothes. As the man did so, Berserker noticed something on his hand. Sneaking a bit closer and focusing on it, Berserker saw it.
Three red marks on the man's right hand. Command seals that screamed out that the man was a Master.
"Curse you, Lancer!" The man snarled as he did his best to sneak to another area. "Keep Archer's attacks away from me!"
'Master! Lancer's Master is here!'
'...Really?'
'Yes, he has the command seals on his hand, and he had cursed Lancer's name.'
'...I see.'
'Master, what do you wish to do?'
'...Take him down, Berserker.'
'Yes, Master.'
Berserker followed the man, until the two stopped at another pile of crates. As the man hid behind the pile, Berserker climbed up and peered down at the enemy master. Looking back at the warehouse, Berserker mentally calculated how long it would take for Lancer to come after him when he killed his master.
Berserker frowned when his calculations didn't come up the way he liked. With the speed that Lancer demonstrated in his fight with Archer, he could easily break away and be on top of him immediately. Given Lancer's clear experience in battle, it would be long before he would be grievously wounded or even slain. And while he would do Archer and her master a favor by killing Lancer's master, it was doubtful that they would come to his aid.
Which all meant that he would have to rely on… 'him' for the moment.
Berserker reached inside his vest and pulled out a vial with a liquid inside. He took a moment to observe the elixir that rested inside. Here, in his hands, was his downfall and his claim to Heroic Spirit status.
For a brief moment, he hesitated.
A image of Lily and his master popped up in his head, both healthy and happy with the rest of their family.
That image squashed his hesitation as he opened the vial.
'For the sake of their smiles, I will become what I despise.'
NOBLE PHANTASM ACTIVATE - DANGEROUS GAME
With that, Berserker drank the elixir. Immediately, something started happening to Berserker as he hunched over.
Berserker threw off his shirt and coat, revealing black fur was rapidly growing there. His fingernails grew sharp and deadly. His teeth became sharper, like a horrid beast of nightmare.
His eyes, once grey pupils, opened themselves to reveal the slit of a beast.
Berserker roared, the transformation complete as he materialized above Lancer's master. Lancer's master gasped as the monster revealed itself. Berserker gave one look, before leaping at the man, claws and fangs directed towards him.
Lancer's master didn't have the chance to scream.
Just as Diarmuid drew back Gae Buidhe for another strike at Archer, he shuddered, throwing off his balance for a split second. That was enough for Archer, as she booted Diarmuid in the chest, pushing him back and making him drop Gae Buidhe. Archer stomped on the spear as hard as she could, smirking as the legendary spear splintered under her foot.
She tested her hand and smirked a bit harder as her hand flexed more easily. "Alright, now we have a fight."
"MASTER!"
Diarmuid completely ignored Archer and sprinted out of the building, leaving the woman blinking. She huffed, frowning deeply as she put her hand on her hip. "Sheesh, just when it was starting to get interesting…"
Suddenly, her master's voice came through to her.
'Rider, return back.'
"Yeah, yeah." With that, the newly identified Rider vanished into golden motes.
Outside the warehouse, Diarmuid came outside to a horrid sight. A large black figure obscured the body of Diarmuid's master, but all the red liquid around assured anyone who was watching that the man was dead. The figure noticed Diarmuid standing behind him.
The figure turned around, revealing himself to look like a stereotypical werewolf, standing upright on two hind legs as his maw, matted with blood, emitted a low growl. The figure also wore a part of familiar pants. Diarmuid took this all in, before looking at his hand.
There, the outer edges of his hands were slowly fading away. Making a fist, Diarmuid faced Berserker. With a flourish, Gae Dearg was in his hands, the Lancer shifting into a combat stance.
"Forgive me, master. I have failed you." He sadly intoned, before looking up at Berserker with determination. "But allow me to bring you this MONSTER'S HEAD!"
Berserker roared a challenge, the sound echoing in Lincoln's head as he waited for the result of the fight.
'...Go get them, Hyde.'