The Last Hero - Initial Staging I
In a cluttered room of a plethora of gadgets and junk stood a tall man, clad in red and black. His white hair stood out in the dark gray of the room, his tan skin making for a complementary complexion. The windows gave way to infinite black with speckles of white shimmering in the incomprehensible distance.
"What the hell?" The tanned male murmured, staring at the strange sword sheath before him. It was a mixture of criss crossing blues and golds, giving it a beautiful royal appearance. He didn't doubt it sold well on the market.
His ship shook with the solar winds slamming into it. This was always one of the worst moments - when the ferocity of a sun went directly against the bow. It was only second to exiting and entering atmosphere, honestly. He was getting off track.
With an outstretched hand, the man ran his fingers across the smooth surface of the sheath. There was no sword buried in it, which was both a relief and a point of interest. His fingers felt a slight tingle, but nothing else caught his intrigue.
Retracting his hand, a voice pervaded the noiseless air. "Captain Emiya, I am grateful you showed up!" The tan man, now known as 'Captain Emiya', turned to view the source of the voice. It was his guest, Doctor Lavielle. He was a shady man, for certain. He only accepted on ferrying the man due to the immense pay he and his crew would receive. It was definitely worth it, all in all.
"Keep it at captain. But yes, you did ask me to come," Emiya's deep voice replied, a hint of unease coating his words. He didn't trust this weird scientist as far as he could throw a mongrel. "What do you want, Lavielle?"
"Please, please, call me Lavi! Have a seat, good space captain!" He pulled up a chair, which Emiya made no move to sit on. Lavielle didn't seem to care too much as he continued business as usual. "I see you've taken an interest in Avalon there!" He chuckled, making the captain cross his arms across his chest.
With his black top and red coat, he made for an intimidating figure. White hair, dark skin and an overall height advantage to most men made him feared on most first meetings. Doctor Lavielle, however, didn't have that same reaction. Either he was brave or simply oblivious. Well, it didn't matter to Emiya. He wouldn't be his problem in a couple days.
"You mean this sheath?" He nodded towards it. The doctor nodded enthusiastically, his hands busy sorting through drawers. "Yeah, I guess. It's just strange seeing it outside of some ancient museum, I guess." The doctor laughed and nodded, his hands retrieving a weird vial.
"Yes, well, she is awfully old, and powerful!"
The elderly man waved him off, pouring the vial into a syringe. Emiya felt even more
uncomfortable, but refused to show it to such a feeble man. "Of course you wouldn't. Well, not yet, anyway."
Alright, screw this guy and his know-it-all attitude. "Look, guy, you're gonna have to expla-"
"Yes yes, this spiel again. Stay still, will you dear captain?" Emiya felt annoyed at being told to do something by his guest, so he stepped forward, a deep glare showing on his face as he prepared a small rant to explain to ettique of riding on someone else's space ship.
"You're on my ship, La-" A sharp pain in his neck alerted him of the strange attitude of the doctor. Lavielle's image slowly faded from view, revealing he was never there to begin with.
"Who knew holograms could convince such a famed captain?" Came the creepy voice of the old doctor. It unnerved the young captain, but he was too focused on trying to move to make it his top priority.
He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move? That pain in his neck ceased his body's obedience to his mind. It just… Wouldn't move. He felt intense burning in his neck that slowly branched out to the rest of his body. He felt like he was on fire but he couldn't move. A strange memory came to mind, a story titled 'I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream'. A story his father would read to him every halloween.
The ship captain now understood just what that story meant. Lavielle hummed in wonder, walking into his sight. "Outstanding. Your body is reacting much differently to that of some of your crew. I wonder, what it could be? The genetics? Body structure and composition? Curious, I would have loved to examine your body… If only it wouldn't be absorbed into Avalon." He sighed, as though he were truly sad.
It pissed Emiya off beyond belief. He forced his limbs to move while the doctor wasn't paying attention. Until… "Gah!" He gripped the old man's throat tightly, his veins bulging out and… Glowing. He didn't care; he just wanted to choke the life out of this man. He said he did this to his crew? His crew? He would ensure nothing was left of this man when he finished.
He finally screamed, a sound engulfed in rage and pain, as his hand squeezed the doctor's throat into oblivion. Blood spurted from the man's mouth and burned on contact with the captain's skin. Then all was black as two bodies hit the cold metal floors.
Behind them both, Avalon burned a brilliant yellow for a brief moment, before lying dormant once more.
"Shiro? Shiro!" Yelled a petite woman, with white hair and red eyes, with skin almost as pale as her hair. She shook him, concern clear as day in her ruby orbs.
"Wake up, brother..." She whispered. As if listening to her prayers, the man's brown eyes fluttered open, exhaustion sagging them to a half open state.
"Ugh… Illya?" He mumbled back, his head rising up off the floor. "Crap… What happened? Why am I in the excess bay?" He looked around, wincing as his whole body pulsed in pain at the action. He couldn't remember anything of the past few hours. What had happened, he wondered, to cause him such discomfort and amnesia? He usually wasn't so clumsy nor forgetful. Quite the opposite, he prided himself in; he had a photographic memory, damn it.
"We heard a crash from here, so we came to investigate… We just found you lying here, so we're wondering the same thing," Replied another, deeper voice. He looked over, finding the face of his first mate, Issei. Black hair, not different in color to that of a raven, and the same shade of eyes made for an attractive man in Issei. He didn't pride himself on his looks, however; he was much more intelligent than he was good looking. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm okay." A lie, but not one he would admit to his crew. He stood up slowly, grunting a bit at the effort. "Where's Doctor Lavielle?" He looked around, seeing no sign of the man. Strange. The guy really didn't like being away from his stuff. Disregarding his thoughts, he gathered himself back into working order. Stretching his terribly sore limbs, he looked over at Issei, the man staring back in patient wait. "Regardless, I'll be at the medbay. I don't like passing out randomly. If anything happens, inform me immediately."
Illya stood to the side, her red eyes looking around the room with a strange look to her. She shook her head, her focus returning to the much taller man. "Um," she started. "I just want to inform you about an upcoming solar storm. It's big, so there's no avoiding it."
He nodded, soaking in the information quickly. "Once we enter it, divert all power to vital functions and shielding. Turn off all non-vital functions and keep everyone at their stations in case of emergency. Hopefully I'll be back by then."
They nodded and went off, leaving the captain alone in his thoughts. He sighed and rubbed his aching head, eyes squinting as he processed the pain. He couldn't remember anything past being invited here by Doctor Lavielle… With said man nowhere in sight, he figured he would come back later and check again. For now, medical attention took priority.
He left the room, his mind never once noticing the lacking presence of the sheath.
He sat on a cold aluminium table, shirtless. His body was just as tan as the rest of him, save for the large pink marks on his lower back, wrapping around his side. That wasn't the focus of the examination, though. Those were much older.
"My my, captain. When did you get a tattoo?" The nurse, Da Vinci, asked him, her teasing gaze focused on his newly added sword tattoo. Which he never remembered getting. A spike of pain blazed through his head, making him grip it in silent agony.
He grunted, regaining hisself. "I never got it," He spoke, gruffer than usual from the pain. "I don't have any tattoos, actually." The noticeable red image on his right pectoral said otherwise. It baffled him to no end. What had happened in the doctor's room? He couldn't recall anything and it only served to piss him off more.
Leon da Vinci scrunched up her face in contemplation. She was remarkably beautiful - a common feature among his crew, he would freely admit. With long brown hair that curled near the end, striking blue eyes like that of Neptune, and such a fair complexion that it would make models green in envy. But the captain wouldn't be attracted to her romantically; she was, after all, happily taken, and with a few kids back home.
"How curious…" She mumbled, poking at the skin. It felt as normal as ever, nothing feeling out of place. The tanned male sighed, crossing his arms to get her away. "I don't know what to say, captain. You pass out, feel immense pain when moving and, to top it all off, randomly get a tattoo. Not to mention your out of character forgetfulness. Are you sure you weren't mugged and branded?"
He knew she was joking, mostly. Still, he felt like something along those lines happened. "I'm not sure," he mumbled, thinking deeply. "I feel like that's not wrong… But not right either." He stood up, putting his red coat back over and after his sleeveless black shirt. "Thanks anyways, Da Vinci. I should get back to work."
The nurse nodded, leaning against the table. "If you feel any more discomfort, please feel free to come back, Emiya." He nodded, his eyes looking anyway but her hunched over form on his way out.
As he walked down the quiet corridors of his ship, his mind wandered. To the tattoo, the throbbing migraine, the upcoming storm. Why was everything going so wack now of all times? He sighed, resigning himself to fate. Such was the life of a cargo shipper these days. The white lights flickered, signalling the start of the storm. There were no windows in this sector - as it was near the center of the ship instead of the outer shell.
Emiya's feet led him towards the deck, where all his navigation, communication and commanding personnel were located. His ship lacked weaponry of any kind, so there was no need for crew of that kind. As he entered the deck, he looked out the windows, seeing the massive warp storm ahead of them. It truly was a sight to see, if only it weren't so damn annoying.
It stretched on for quite possibly millions of miles, but only looked like a few at most. The vast size of it was incomprehensible, the colors amassed inside its brilliant glow reminding the man of the sunset reflecting off the ocean on Terra. It was beautiful, but only in appearance. It would kill any unlucky soul with a smaller ship - and god forbid you be outside when passing through. Thousands upon thousands of tiny dots could be seen moving about the clouds; asteroids, each larger than a typical moon. He shuddered at the thought of passing by one. They were more spread out than they appeared, so hitting one was unlikely, but not impossible.
The white haired young man walked through the main doors to the command room. "Captain on deck!" Someone shouted, which he ignored. They got the message and all non-essential personnel got back to work. He was grateful that they had enough common sense to disregard him in favor of, well, keeping them alive.
Twenty three members sat inside this admittedly overcrowded room. Fifteen were navigational crewmen, six were radio operators, and two were his commanders. Which were Illyasviel von Einzbern and Issei Ryuudou, of course. His adopted little sister was invaluable for her knowledge, provided to her by her rich heritage (albeit from a man he highly regarded as the spawn of Satan; her grandfather), something he was secretly both proud of and distasteful for. Issei, his best friend, was definitely the most competent when it came to logistics and the order of things. A trait he inherited from being the president of his planet's higher educational facility; not a title to be looked over.
His main communications officer was an odd one. A rather effeminate male with long pink hair, Astolfo was quite the charismatic guy. While not the best when it came to the technology on the ship, he was, without a doubt, the best suited person for the task. Simply due to his ability to get the message across and the charisma he had when doing so.
The leading navigation expert (and second in command of the navigation department) was, oddly enough, the strangest of the bunch. Her green hair that faded to a gentle blonde, her equally emerald eyes made nearly any man falter. Her stare was like arrows, penetrating your very soul. Though her most striking feature was definitely the feline appendages protruding her skull; cat ears, to put it simply.
Atalanta was the best damn navigator this side of the galaxy, the captain would assure anyone of that. She could stalk a rogue pirate ship across entire light years, months after they had already been through. Some jokingly called it magic, but Emiya knew the truth. She was just damn good.
All four of his finest gathered around, looking at him with varying degrees of worry and amusement, likely at his irritated face. That one belonged to Astolfo, the cheeky jackass he was. "I'm fine," He quickly said, holding his hand up. "Worry about other things later. For the moment, we need to survive this storm in one piece. I got valuable cargo on this ship that must make it to their destination. Losing it is unacceptable."
"Aye, Captain!" His crew shouted in unison, his chest puffing out as it swelled with pride. His crew wasn't a combat crew, but dammit if they weren't just as, if not more, motivated and efficient than any fighter carrier could provide. Though he was positive they could outdo any other crew in any situation, combat included.
"Man your stations! Strengthen shields, reinforce life support!" Issei commanded, allowing the captain time to move to his own seat and further plot their next action. Promptly taking it, he viewed the front window. His face grim as he stared outside, Atalanta approached him, quiet as always, and whispered in his ear, as though to not alert anyone else.
"This isn't your usual warp storm, Emiya."
But he already knew that. He was a veteran sailsman - having flown through these stars a hundred times. He had experienced plenty of storms in the past, but none as gigantic nor ominous as this.
Now this was the worst part of flying. Facing something insurmountable and as improbable as the sight before him. Ultimately it mattered little, as he swivelled in his chair. "Nowaki, scan the storm. Search for the calmest route. Peterson, scan for asteroids or other rubble. Atalanta, get us through this mess." They all nodded, his head navigator shouting out more orders to her crew.
With a sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, his migraine getting ever more intense as they neared the storm. "Astolfo, tell the rest of the ship to strap down all loose equipment and lock doors and windows. I want everything barricaded and all non-essential personnel in the cafeteria."
The girly man saluted and immediately got on the radio, his cheery voice repeating everything he just said. With practiced ease, the captain once more swivelled to Illya. "Go to the cafeteria; ensure everyone is where they should be. I want you to keep it orderly, anything you say goes." Part of him just wanted her safe, if he were honest with himself. But that deed did need to be done, and he couldn't send Issei off to do it. He needed his help here.
"What about you?" She frowned, looking up at her brother. He shook his head and waved her off, making the younger girl sigh, defeated. She knew the answer to that question even before she asked it. She walked out, leaving the man with the rest of the deck.
Of course nothing would happen to him, he thought. He never had an experience he couldn't overcome. This might have looked bad - he looked over the storm, noticing the burning oranges and crackling dark matter lightning storms - but it wasn't anything he couldn't beat through sheer determination.
He just needed to be a little more tactful on this one, was all.
Five and a half minutes later of organized chaos, they entered the storm.
Five and a half more minutes later, the entire ship was in disarray. Red lights blaring as the entire structure shook, the very metal foundations being rocked. It was difficult enough gripping onto his seat, let alone stand up. Anyone unfortunate enough to have been standing was most certainly not anymore, the quakes too powerful to resist with mediocre human balance.
"Captain, main engine taking serious damage!"
"Starboard side taking heavy damage! Captain, what should we do?!"
"Captain, the generator-"
"Captain-"
"Captain-"
"Captain-"
"Shut up!" He roared, standing momentarily. It was evidence enough of his aggravation that he would be able to resist a tremor for even a moment. He sat back down, huffing quietly. The room was silent, his crew still working diligently but with silent apprehension plaguing the air. "Okay," He muttered. "Reinforce the shielding. Power down engines one and two, keep three on only to keep positive momentum. I want all navigation crew focusing on finding the quickest way out of here while communication calls for immediate repairs at the nearest station.
"Leave the two best pilots to traverse and avoid the larger objects. Evade at all costs - keep us alive and keep the shipments in the ship. Power down anything you need to get us out of here alive."
He sucked in some air, another tremor sending spikes of pain through his body. "And keep it quiet. We're all panicking here. If there's something seriously shitty, tell me, but don't shout."
Issei stared down the crew from the seat next to the captain's, correcting his glasses as he did so. Everyone did as instructed immediately, the stern look of the first mate and their captain motivating them enough to do so.
"This storm… Is unlike any I've ever faced," His friend mumbled. He nodded in agreement, another tremor rocking the ship. He feared any more of those and the infrastructure of his ship would be torn apart.
"We need to get out of here," Emiya mumbled, chewing his nail idly. "Dammit, if only we got that warp drive…" He cursed, slamming a fist down on his arm rest. "I just had to be stubborn and say we didn't need it. Stupid, stupid, stupid."
His first mate patted his forearm, a look of stern forgiveness clear in his eyes. "Don't blame yourself, Shiro. It was both of our decision. Besides, we couldn't afford it at the time even if we did want it. There was no helping it."
"Captain, I-I think you should see this," Mumbled Atalanta. To see her so flustered sent a shot of fear into the tall man's heart. She was unshakable - a true rock to the crew. Her stutter felt like a quake all on its own.
Without doubt, the captain walked over, nearly getting knocked over from one of the smaller tremors. "What is it, Atalanta?" He viewed over her shoulder, seeing the image on the screen. It was… A planet? Surrounded by the storm, it was blacked out, yet it shouldn't have been. Solar storms produced ample light to show a planet's surface.
Maybe it was just a weird planet. Nothing special. Yet today's events told Emiya he was wrong - that it was something unnatural. Something not just weird, but out of this very realm. "I… Scan it." He covered up his awe quickly before anyone could catch it, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.
They did as such, but the scans came up with numerous error messages. It baffled the captain and Atalanta, the two looking at each other with their own version of intrigue.
Without warning, the white haired male clutched the right side of his chest, where his tattoo was located. The pain was immeasurable; a burning sensation he had long since forgotten blasting to the forefront of his mind.
Images of a sword and a ruined battlefield littered his sight and muddied his mind, the voices of a concerned crew sounding distant and unrecognizable. The last image lingered in his vision - the sight of two women, clad in strange armor, with one piercing the other with a spear-like weapon. Then his vision returned to the present, where he was currently staring at the ceiling from his spot on the floor.
He stood up, slowly, the burning of his chest not gone but not as strong as before. No one was near him and it was oddly silent. Looking around, he saw the desolate remains of his ship, cluttered with wrecked almost beyond recognition.
"Atalanta…? Issei?" He called out, looking around frantically. "Astolfo? Anyone?" His voice progressively became louder. Glancing outside the window produced only blackness, the ominous atmosphere enhanced by the blaring red emergency lights.
He stumbled about, feeling his stomach churn at the motions. He would vomit, were his stomach not empty. The air felt different - thicker and more humid, almost. Walking through the ajar doors, he stared down a heavily destroyed corridor. Giant holes torn out of the walls, numerous boxes and panels strewn about the floor, lights broken or flickering above head. It was all tragically apocalyptic to the man.
He heard voices, though. Far down the hall, and only faintly, but he heard them nonetheless. His feet moved before he could think to, taking him in that direction. It sounded like it came from the cafeteria, where Illya and the rest of his crew should be. It gave him some hope, enough to make him jog despite his weary legs.
He didn't get there in record time, but that may have been a good thing, as he heard voices unlike any on his ship before he reached the door. He stopped right before it, straining his ears to listen in. It was a language he had never heard before, spoken in tones that sounded almost ancient. No one spoke with such regality to their tone these days.
Braving a peak, he was met with a room littered in people of varying sizes, genders and races. They all spoke the same language, but they all looked so… Different. He thought his crew was quirky, but these people were easily the most uniquely dressed people he'd ever seen.
It was a shame Emiya couldn't speak their language, as some of their conversations were just as confused as his mind.
"Where the hell are we?" Asked one man, with red hair and a beard to match. He was large and muscular, screaming pure power. A sword was strapped to his hip. "This looks nothing like the Throne of Heroes."
"You're asking the wrong guy, Rider," Replied a cheery blue haired man, his red spear strung across his shoulders as his arms rested over them. "I don't have any idea either."
"That's because you're an idiot, Lancer," A haughty voice interrupted their conversation, making the blue haired one look over as Rider followed suite. "Obviously this is a place in the real world. We've been summoned." The two men looked her over, noticing the black twin tails before anything else.
Lancer stared at her for one, two, three seconds before responding. "Who are you?"
The woman blinked, her red eyes wide in surprise before narrowing, insulted. She scoffed, placing a hand on her chest before proclaiming, "I am Ishtar, you fool!"
"... Ishtar?" Chuckled Rider, a hearty laugh escaping his throat. "You look nothing like you did five minutes ago! What happened, Archer?"
She looked herself over, realizing what he meant. She was much more petite than she used to be - younger, as well. She was dressed similarly though, which was a relief. "I… Must have been placed inside a body. I have no recognition of making such a contract, though."
"You had no choice," Replied a new, deep voice. The three glanced over to the source; another large man - although this one a fair bit shorter than the Rider class servant. He had scars bountiful across his body, varying in color and size. "Shit just happened."
She hummed, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow towards the newcomer. "Berserker," She greeted. "You don't seem very berserker-y right now."
He shrugged, looking around with an out of character look to his eyes. "Guess that damned madness curse wasn't placed upon summoning me. I'm not Berserker." He summarized at the end for the other men's sake.
They didn't need it though - contrary to what Archer would assume, they weren't dumb. Men like them wouldn't be here were they dumb. "So what are you then?" Asked Lancer, taking an interest in this. Best to know your opponents, he rationalized.
"It's obvious, isn't it? I'm Saber." They scoffed, Rider nodding sagely, an indication towards him realizing it far sooner. "I'm no good with magic or stealth. It wouldn't make sense for me to be Assassin or Caster. Since I'm not Berserker, that leaves us with one option."
Lancer scoffed along with Ishtar, the two glaring slightly at him. "Whatever you are, I'll still beat you."
"Sure, C-"
"Oh?" The next person walked up, their voice sly like a fox. A man with white - almost chrome - colored hair and a fine, white robe walked up behind Saber, his purple eyes looking over the 4 gathered with amusement. "I see I've been summoned with an interesting party."
The four stared back, three of the four giving him uncaring faces. Rider grinned and nodded, greeting him with an excitement not dissimilar to a child's. "I am Caster, very nice to meet all of you," He greeted, holding out his hand to shake. Again, only Rider took it, introducing himself right after.
"I am King Iskandar, good mage," He greeted, his grip firm enough to send a message of both a threat and a welcome.
"Yes, I know of you," Chuckled Caster, pulling his hand back from the larger hand's grip. He shook it slightly, looking over everyone once more. "I remember all of you." Saber shrugged again, his attention no longer on the mage. Lancer and Archer just stared, silent as stone and eyes narrow as paper at the robed man. "As I'm sure you know of me, if you really think on it." Another pause. He sighed theatrically, throwing up a hand in exasperation. "Not fans of guessing games? I am Merlin. Magus who bestowed King Arthur his power. That doesn't ring any bells?"
Murmurs and some grunts, but nothing more, besides Rider's quiet hum. They all looked like they were thinking, though, much to Caster's relief. "If we remember each other…" Started Lancer, glancing at the others around them.
"Did they summon us incorrectly?" Finished Archer, making Caster sigh in relief.
"No," Replied Saber before he could get to it. His head was swivelling around, confusion plastered on the previously tired face. "There's no summoning circles, nor Masters. No magic around, either, from what I can tell."
Merlin nodded, smiling pleasantly. "You caught on, good to see. I don't know about you, but the lack of all of that makes me a bit uneasy, wouldn't you say?"
A grunt behind him was the first response, with a sigh accompanying it. "You're not even listening, are you?" Once again sighed a feminine voice, making the group turn around. Two women stood by each other, one standing there silently with the other staring helplessly. The helpless one wore a gray cloak, masking her face and body from the group. A black cape draped over her shoulders, animal fur laced around the neck. She wore thigh high socks and some form of dress shoes.
The silent one had a military-esque red button up, also with a black cape over her shoulders. A black skirt fluttered below the top, a white belt wrapping around her waist and chest for whatever reason.
"Okay, I give up," The one with the hood spoke. Her voice was quiet, shy even. Ishtar quickly pinpointed who was who, as did the others. It was too obvious. The Assassin, for she certainly wasn't Berserker with her small attitude, looked over at the others, realizing she was being looked at by them. A blush grew on her pale cheeks which she quickly covered up.
The female with the red coat looked over, her eyes zeroing on Saber. More specifically, his scars, her eyes scrunched as they analyzed them. The man, feeling a tad awkward at the strange attention, look away, trying to appear inconspicuous.
Emiya watched it all in silence as the 7 strange people converged together, apparently talking about something he couldn't hear completely. They were speaking that same language, so even if he could hear fully it likely wouldn't make sense.
Slowly he entered, his hand reaching for the nearby fire extinguisher. The ship had its own autonomous fire fighting system, but the cafeteria had manual extinguishers for small fires that may occur. It wouldn't do to waste energy on that stuff. Before he put his next foot through the door, a hand caught his shoulder, stopping him there.
"What do you intend to do with that?" Asked a feminine voice, yet the authority it held was undeniable. Emiya slowly turned around, holding one hand up while cradling the fire extinguisher against his chest.
He met face to face with a blonde woman, at least a foot shorter than he was. Her blue eyes stared up questioningly, her right hand seemingly gripping an object that wasn't there. He relaxed, his chest deflating as he breathed out. At least it wasn't anyone too threatening. The other group didn't seem to notice them, all seven too engaged to spread their attention.
"My name is Captain Emiya. You're on my ship. Where is my crew?" He kept it straight to the point, glaring at her to punctuate his point. She seemed unfazed, her own stare meeting his equally.
"I've no clue, Captain Emiya. Perhaps your crew has yet to board the boat." Boat? Nonsense aside, that was impossible, since they were in the middle of literally space.
Speaking his doubt with a harsher glare, she seemed a little troubled by the news, going so far as to glance away even. "I see… This situation is different than the others, then…" She looked back at Emiya, her demeanor no longer expressing the ability to harm him. "I am a Servant, Ruler-class. Are you a Master?"
"Uh," He stopped, honestly confused about that entire statement. Ruler-class, Master? The words baffled him, but not more than the meaning behind them. "I'm no one's Master, lady. I'm just a ship captain."
She frowned, glancing down at my hand. He covered it up behind him, feeling oddly insecure about the strange tattoo there. "Yet you have Command Seals. You are a Master, Captain Emiya."
Command Seals? He glanced down at them, openly studying them as contrast to before. "You're not making any sense. Who are you?"
"I told you. I am Ruler, assigned my class to oversee this Holy Grail War by the holy grail itself." Even more information. He felt overwhelmed, the amount of absolute insanity making his head feel fuzzy. Yet the absurdity of it all didn't make it feel wrong. It all felt… Natural. His tattoo surged with some kind of heat next to this woman - Ruler, she called herself. It felt right.
"I… Okay," He breathed out, glancing over at the group behind him. He set the extinguisher off to the side, no longer wanting the device. "I need to know what happened to my crew." She frowned, staring up at the man. He prioritized his crew over the responsibilities of a Master; nothing new, yet still odd.
Emiya watched as she shut her eyes, her body going still as she did… Something. "I feel a few people below us. About… 15 meters."
"The generator?" He murmured, gnawing his lip. He told them the cafeteria. "How many?" He asked, recognizing the difference between 'a few' and his whole crew.
Taking a minute to think, she replied, "Around seven. It's difficult to count; the metal is interfering with my abilities." Sensing people was an impressive ability, he'd give her that. Taking another glance at the group, his heart jumped up to his throat when he noticed they were much closer than before. Matter of fact, they were all staring at him, except for the girl in the military like clothes, who was fixated on the scarred man still.
"Uh…" He slowly started, taking a step back as he squared up, preparing to fight if need be.
"Hmm?" The robed man hummed, staring down at his hand with an inquisitive smirk. "It appears we do have masters here. Who might you be, young man?" Young? He looked the same age as him!
Emiya frowned, stepping back from the group of unknowns. "Introduce yourselves first. You're on my ship, you have no place to demand me of anything." He glanced over the 'Ruler', who was staring at the white haired eccentric with a stoic look.
However, she spoke before anyone else could utter a word. "Merlin," She practically hissed, glaring at the man. 'Merlin', Emiya went ahead and assumed was his name, looked over, his smirk widening. "I didn't know you were freed from Avalon."
"Lots of things can happen over the course of millennia, wouldn't you say, my dear King?" His tone was playful, like the title of king meant nothing to him. Though the captain didn't fault him at that - this girl was a king? Doubtful; kings hadn't existed for centuries as far as Emiya knew.
Everyone watched in silence as the two stared each other down. The 'king', or whatever she was, broke the silence. "Introduce yourselves. We are on his ship, it is only proper to. No reason to withhold names, we all know each other."
The blue haired man, wielding a red pole, stepped forward, looking him over once before introducing himself. "I am Lancer-class Servant, Cu Chulainn."
Next was the giant of a man. As wide as Illya was tall, he stood a head above even Emiya. "I am Rider-class Servant, King Iskandar." He spoke with confidence befitting a king, he supposed. It made more sense for him to be one than the girl, at least.
A twin-tailed girl floated forward, her red eyes staring at him with curiosity. "I am-"
"Rin?" Emiya interrupted, surprise and disbelief lacing his tone. The girl faltered, stumbling a bit over her words.
"...A-Archer-class Servant, Ishtar… Who is this Rin?" She asked cautiously, eyes narrowing at the misidentification. The tanned man cleared his throat, embarrassed by his assumption.
"My bad… It was my old captain. She taught me the ropes as a Lieutenant. You look… Extraordinarily similar." He left it at that, looking at the robed man next, expecting him to come up. He did, albeit with a melodramatic sigh.
"I am Caster-class Servant, Merlin." Ruler frowned at him from the side, her arms
crossing over her breastplate. He guessed there was bad history there.
The heavily scarred man came next, his cold gaze forcing Emiya to tense up. He felt different than the rest, and he wasn't sure how.
"Saber-class Servant, Beowulf." Emiya frowned, the name lingering in the forefront of his mind. Its ring was familiar; he would need to investigate at a later time. He shook his head and looked over at the cloaked girl, waiting for her to come forth. Frankly, he would rather not be doing this, but they could be threats. The seven people down in the engine room would just have to stand by until he discerned their intent. He didn't want to lead them to his crew if they were going to hurt them.
"I am... Gray, Assassin-class..." Said the cloaked girl named as such. She seemed bashful enough, which worked to get Emiya to relax a bit. If the entire group was confident then he would have had issues; though he didn't let it sway him entirely. She could be faking it. They could still be trained professionals. He wouldn't be tricked.
The last one, the one who didn't even glance at him, simply remained silent, uncaring of the others around her. Sensing she wouldn't answer, the ship captain stepped forward, looking down at her with a small glare. She finally looked his way, her eyes cold, possibly from his interruption of whatever she was focused on. "Who are you?" He asked.
She looked on and hummed softly. "Florence Nightingale." Her voice was nearly as cold as her eyes. The curt response was all she gave before looking over once more at Beowulf, her eyes scanning his war-torn body. If Emiya cared at all he would question it, but since he didn't, his focus went back to his main priority.
"I am Captain Emiya and this is my ship. You're all guests on my ship. I expect the utmost cooperation and etiquette while you're all here. Follow the rules and I won't kick you out. Do anything I don't like and I will. Clear?" They all gave their versions of affirmation, whether it be a laugh or simply not saying anything at all, even a disagreement. He sighed, accepting that was the best he was going to get. Ruler stepped forward next to him, extending her gauntlet to shake.
"I am Arturia Pendragon. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain." He looked down at it, then up at her. A moment later he grasped it and shook her hand, nodding as he did so.
With introductions aside, and his point made clear, he walked down the corridor, his intent clear to the Ruler-class Servant. He was going to save the 7 individuals down below, like he was unable to for the rest of his crew.
Beowulf, Saber
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 178lbs
Stats
Strength: B
Agility: B
Luck: A
Endurance: A+
Mana: D
NP: A+
Extra: Beowulf died with the flames of passion coursing through his veins. His last dying wish was for his people to live wealthy with the riches of his Kingdom; an honorable deed. The combination of both gave unto him the class of Saber when not summoned with the Madness Curse, although rarely done for his disinterest in fighting, the flames of passion lasting only as long as his final breath.
Hello all. This is my first attempt at a Fate story and my first time writing an actual story in a long time in general, so my skills are probably rusty. Don't expect this to be a masterpiece at first, lol, cuz I certainly don't. Anyway, I'm not used to writing so many characters at once, so I'm sorry if I focused too much on one and not enough on others. Unintentional bias tends to happen to the ones I can write easier. I'm working on fixing that as I write more. I did try to make it at least fair to the rarer characters, like Beowulf and Ishtar, but I know I could've done more.
Ultimately my goal here is to improve my writing and practice my ability to balance character interactions and dialogue. I'm using my preferred genre - SciFi - to do so, because I find it easier to write about. Much more so than Fantasy, at least. Plus Fate doesn't get a lot of SciFi adaptations, fanmade or official, so I decided to dabble in it.
Hope you all enjoy it and give me feedback. Anything beneficial is welcome. Thanks.