Dull grey bulkheads stretched on for nearly one hundred meters. The lighting in the corridor was cold and sterile. It stank of strong chemical cleaners. Though, the smell wasn't enough to even tickle the nose of a woman dressed in a void black business suit. The only part of her body that was unclothed was her head. Her small feet created massive echoes that reverberated up and down the hall.
The woman held over a dozen thick files in her hand. She reached a heavy metal door with a security pad. The woman promptly typed in a security code. The door began to open with an awful screech thanks to the churning of several gears behind the scenes that lifted it up. There was a pressurizing hiss as the signs of a crack emerged.
It finally stopped and the woman in black quickly stepped inside just before the door closed behind her with a mighty thud. The woman's eyes squinted as she began to acclimate to the pitch black room. Not only was the room difficult to see in, it was deathly quiet too. Her steps inside the chamber barely registered on any sound metric.
"Mistress," the woman called out. Her voice seemed to be adsorbed by the darkness. It took a few more seconds for her eyes finally adjusted to the room. She could make out what at first glance appeared to be a large rock near the center of the chamber. As she approached it, it became clear that the rock was actually an elegant throne carved of single slab of black onyx that was turned away from her. There was a strange light that was being eclipsed by the throne, gaving the room a chilling atmosphere.
A dancing column of smoke began to rise from the other side of the throne. What uneclipsed light there was became filtered through the smoke, creating an odd dance of gaseous particles. The woman walked to the right of the throne, stopping centimeters short of being even with it.
The light was coming from a large hologram of the planet Earth and its moon, both of which were rotating extremely accurately situated a few meters away from the front of the throne. Strange thin white lines were spread over what would have be kilometers on the planet. The lines slowly wormed in unpredictable intervals but were never able to leave a general area.
The woman in the suit frowned. "Please mistress, the doctor insisted that you drop that habit," she said. Her mistress waved a pail, well-manicured hand at her assistant; the end of a large, long, velvety, red robe sleeve dangled midway down her forearm. A cigarette was elegantly held between the hand's middle and index finger.
"After all this time, you decide now is an appropriate moment to fret over a little vice?" the mistress commented in a practiced aristocratic voice.
"I'm sorry, mistress. We've come so far, I'd hate for you to be stopped by some trivial problem," the woman in black retorted. Her mistress took a satisfying drag of the cigarette before lightly chuckling.
"I've made sure that when my treatment is ready, all such 'trivial problems' shall be remedied as well," her mistress assured. She brought the cigarette back up to her ruby lips, which were surrounded by a thick layer of white bandages. The slightest hint of burnt flesh could be seen around the edges of her lips. "But you aren't here to nag me about my health. What news do you have?"
The standing woman cleared her throat. "The relics you wished for have arrived. They are to satisfaction, I assure you," she said.
"I trust the deliverers have been properly compensated?" her mistress asked.
"Their silence is...assured."
"Excellent, anything else?"
"Yes, mistress. I've compiled the list of possible candidates as per your request," she said. Her free hand twitched a bit.
The woman with the cigarette elegantly flourished the burning tobacco. "I sense you're holding back a rant. Please go on," she playfully requested. The other woman sighed.
"This Earth has no Mage's Association let alone proper mages, and the Holy Church is more interested in futile rituals and petty theological squabbles than regulating the little but dangerous magic there is," she explained. "Bottom line: overseeing a Grail War here will be an exceptionally difficult task and given your current state maybe even next to impossible. Perhaps we should wait for you to recover or find another Earth."
The mistress angrily jammed her cigarette into the ash tray built into her throne. "We've waited long enough. Our strength is one hundred fold what it was when we first fled, even in this reduced state. It might take another hundred octillion iterations or more for a world as perfect as this to come up. No my friend, the time is now. This is the opportunity we've been waiting for," she said. She reached into her velvety red robe and pulled out a box of cigarettes.
"Very well mistress, if I can't dissuade you from delaying our mission I must insist that you find a way to delegate managing the Grail War."
The burned woman started to laugh as she popped out a new cigarette. "Your fear for my wellbeing is admiral as always. I do agree I am in no condition to keep the Masters and Servants in line. That's why you will act as my proxy," she said as she lit the tobacco.
"Me?"
"Don't worry; I'll back you up if things get too out of control. But who else is there that I can trust? Who else in this particular world knows the rites and rules better?" the burned woman said. She returned her free hand inside her red robe and gripped a cord that looped around her neck and rested atop her bare breast. A single yank removed the cord from her neck, revealing an ornate silver key tied to it. She lazily offered the trinket to her servant.
The woman in black took a step back. "You cannot be serious m…mistress," she stammered out.
"Don't be coy, dear. If you're going to represent me, you'll need all my tricks."
"But this…that's...that's the..."
"I know and I wouldn't depart with it if I didn't have to. But you said it yourself this world lacks proper mages. While I doubt any of our masters will live long enough to reach the level of even a notable apprentice, it wouldn't sit with me if I didn't give them access to at least a paltry defense," the burned woman
The standing woman took the key, clutching it in her gloved hand. "I will be sure to take the utmost precaution with this burden," she said. "
"Just be sure to make sure nothing gets out. Even the slightest upset to the balance of this world might ruin this entire branch," the woman in the red robe dryly reminded.
"I will not fail you, mistress."
"You never have. Now tell me about all our potential masters…"
The lines squirming on the representation of the Earth began to move faster, even move from their initial location and began to link up with other lines.
Based on the work of Type-Moon
The Bluefire Phoenix Present…
Fate/Crossroads