Comparing the cafeteria and Salon De Marie was pointless. As the original, it could never compete with the new room's luxury. The large room was made with efficiency in mind and had the same post-modernistic style of the original Chaldea. It was like night and day, which was why everyone looked forward to dinner in the salon since its conception.

The double door entrances of the room led to the hallway, with vending machines lining the opposite wall. Potted plants and paintings were symmetrically placed around the room. The tables were white and plain, placed in rows of three down the center of the spacious room. Bordering the center rows were small rounded tables of similar design capable of seating eight people each. One wall exchanged its seating for an open-arch access to several self-serving buffet stations, complete with two swinging doors that accessed the kitchen.

It is from this area, after picking her desired lunch, that a newly arrived servant was looking for a place to sit.

A long sleeved maxi dress with a low-cut front covered most of her body, though hints of a thin and toned body can be guessed where the clothing clung. The dress had a simple cream color, but was accompanied by a firmly-wrapped black sash around her midsection. Her tanned skin was paired with short, white hair that reached just past her shoulders. It framed the sides of her face with cleanly cut bangs, but only covered her forehead, revealing her fuchsia eyes that gazed around the room with a blank expression.

She began walking towards one corner of the room while sparing passing glances to tables on both sides of her. Most tables became quiet as she approached. The individuals faced their food and ate silently while paying her no attention. Those that did accidentally catch her stare quickly found something more interesting to do. The ones that had servants weren't as rude, but were all full as usual.

With a sigh, she continued her approach to a table in the corner of the room and ignored the same responses she received as she passed. Placing her tray down lightly, she pulled the chair back and sat down with her facing the wall… The same thing she had done for the past few days. She closed her eyes for a moment and just listened to the friendly conversations, and the quiet hum of an approaching thruster.

"Good afternoon, Miss Altera. Would you like to try today's coffee? It's a special brew from our storage, originating from Monte Verde, Costa Rica! A fantastic quality if I do say so myself," The robot hummed in its own excited, electronic voice. It had a stainless-steel coffee pot grasped in each of its arms.

"No, thank you," She replied calmly with a blank expression.

"Very well. Please feel free to signal one of us if you change your mind! Enjoy your lunch!" It stated before floating away to another table.

At least the robots were a little friendly. She ignored the small stinging sensation in her chest and began eating, unaware of the feminine eyes that watched her from across the cafeteria.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Fragment 7: When in Rome

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Altera leveled her sword.

The blade resonated with the entire spectrum of rainbow light as it spun along its axis silently. She gripped the black handle with both hands, and leveled her combat stance against her chosen, lifeless opponent. The veil of her battle attire waved in the blowing winds of the training ground. White lines were etched onto her tanned skin pulsed slightly with each beat of prana charged into her blade. Her black stockings and white arm pieces barely did anything to protect her heavily exposed body from the elements.

The warlord stood alone in the middle of the training fields. The wind howled around her as snow battered her face, yet she didn't flinch or shiver. Her eyes remained closed as she focused on the gentle rotation of her blade, pushing more prana into it so it rotated faster and resonated with light. The golden light bathed her, illuminating snowflakes like golden dust as they flew past. She concentrated harder, molding more of her od into prana and charging her blade faster.

Opening her eyes slowly she looked at one of the smaller mountain peaks that stood partially hidden behind her glowing blade. She gripped the weapon tighter and glared at the offending piece of earth, taking her first step towards it as she raised the blade high above her head. She took another step then growled as she shifted her stance to char-

'Is this all you'll ever know?'

She stopped, eyes widening barely enough to be noticeable. The blade began losing rotational speed, and the golden light that bathed her faded along with it. The rainbow weapon came to a halt as the grinding of its rotation was replaced once more with the howling of the snow. Silently, she stared forward, past her blade at her former target. Snow brushed against her face, yet she still didn't move.

She could only stare forward and wonder.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Altera slowly opened her eyes.

She breathed out gently and sat up, appreciating the cool breeze on her skin. Looking down, she sighed upon seeing her battle attire without accompanying shoes, but her attention soon grasped the soft grass below. Vibrant green she had come to appreciate so many times before cushioned her, just like the sky-blue blanket soothed her aching soul. The clouds wisped past gently, yet almost mechanically. It wasn't natural, but it could've fooled most.

She was here again, but where was here?

This was the second time she had this dream. She was in the rolling plains once more, with the grass blowing like the world she remembered. It was as vast and endless as she remembered, yet the mountains could not be seen, nor were there signs of life anywhere. It was just her again, alone in the grasslands that formed her interesting, dreamlike prison. She breathed out, and slowly found herself smiling.

Just like before, her urge to destroy was gone. Altera only felt peace.

Since the dream was lasting longer than before, she decided to wander further. She took her first steps, smiling as she felt the grass beneath her bare feet. They caressed every step she took as she walked aimlessly towards the horizon. There were no trees, towns, or mountains in sight as she crested a hill. Her eyes only graced upon the endless plains of rolling, blowing grass.

She sighed as an idea crossed her mind. For minutes, she considered it as her veil blew like a flag in the wind. Turning around once more, she gazed and contemplated. Then, with a quiet and firm inhale, she yelled out for someone to hear. "Hello!?"

There was no echo to return, but only the ticklish gust of the wind against her ear answered. She sighed, not knowing why anyone would bother answering in this dream. She wasn't even sure how dreams worked. All she knew, was that she was in the comforting place she had appreciated in her life on Earth… but she was alone, as always.

Even among her fellow Huns, she was revered as a conqueror and destroyer. Altera was kept at a distance, not out of fear, but respect and courtesy. She had done much with her life, and seen many, but in the end, there was this unshakeable loneliness she could never understand. It was if for countless millennia, she had only been with herself when surrounded by thousands. It pained her, and raked at her mind. She couldn't understand why.

Altera fell quietly to the grass beneath, allowing a rare, lone tear to escape her eye. She didn't bother to brush it away, but simply let it fall. One sniffle accompanied it as the winds tried to soothe her soul. They did, but only to such an extent. As they caressed her skin, they only continued to remind her she was alone. She hugged her knees to her chest to rest her head upon them, pondering why this feeling always seemed to accompany her like destruct-

The world grew hazy. She looked around in surprise before the fringes of her vision frosted over. Framed by a ghostly white, she looked around in slight panic only to realize the world remained the same. The colors had faded with the unusual vision, but they had remained the same plains of her dreams. She gasped as she reached out, only to see her arm had shrunk. She held the smaller hand to her face in surprise, curiosity, and uncertainty.

Her vision blinked rapidly, and the world shattered, but in that moment of destructive end, she felt it.

Altera felt appreciated.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


"Still nothing?" Doctor Roman sighed as he looked towards his guest solemnly.

"No," Altera answered plainly but quietly, causing her orange haired companion to rub his forehead.

They sat in his office within the Medical Bay with a white desk separating the two. Several cabinets and drawers lined the walls behind him, with the remainder being decorated by abstract paintings. One monitor and his open laptop sat atop his desk, with scattered folders and paperwork littering everywhere else. The rest of the office was practically empty, the result of the doctor finally getting around to cleaning stacks of paperwork and books he failed to return to the archives or library.

Doctor Roman sighed and looked to the servant he was trying to help. It has been nearly five days since she had arrived and revealed herself as Attila the Hun. Much to the surprise of many, she preferred to be called Altera, as it felt more comfortable to her. To her disappointment, many still call her Atilla. Word spread significantly faster at the arrival of the famous warlord. Reactions were generally similar but in different flavors…

Intimidated, fearful, and wary.

The difficulty she had with finding a group she could bond with was unusual, but Roman theorized it was mostly from her stoic and silent attitude. She recalled it was only to be expected for a day or two as Gudao had requested every servant be treated fairly. While the servants followed it, it wasn't an order for the employees. Most servants stuck to their already formed groups, only showing courtesies and exchanging greetings with her on occasion, but none seeking her purposefully.

"A commander must not be distracted in his conquests," she had told him firmly when asked why he was approached instead of Gudao.

To his surprise, she had opted for the third person to make her feel welcome in Chaldea instead of her master. Gabrielle had been kind, but she didn't want to bother her since she seemed to have many servant and employee friends. With her master always busy, she requested he was left unaware of her predicament so he would not be distracted with trivial pursuits. Roman had thought aloud that the facility should be checked for any potential masters with leyshift compatibility to help lessen Gudao's workload.

While it was nice the doctor was rather thoughtful in helping her, and even offered to keep her company at lunch twice, Roman was as busy as Gudao this week.

Altera's quiet shift in her chair seemingly broke the doctor from a potential tangent of thoughts as she spoke. "As you can see, I wore Naomi's hastily made dress instead of my battle attire. You said it might make them feel less intimidated by me."

"The battle attire was certainly… distracting in different ways," Roman noted again. She never personally saw it as potentially arousing as he claimed, but she saw his point about it being intimidating. Fear was not an ally for making true friends. "…Did it work?"

She shook her head, and the doctor sighed.

The dress was far more appropriate for wearing around the facility. Roman had hoped it, and the others of similar style ordered, would help break the ice, and allow her to join a group. From her reception at lunch, this was not the case as she wound up sitting alone again. A simple change in looks was not going to be enough for a destroyer like her to be accepted. Thankfully, is seems the doctor still had other ideas for her.

"Have you tried talking to any of the tables and asking if you could join?"

Altera paused, but shook her head and he smiled softly. "Try that at dinner tonight. Introducing yourself and showing them you're interested in joining them is usually enough to break the ice around here."

"But what if they…"

"Come on, Altera," Roman tried to convince with a small smile as he woke his laptop from sleep mode. "If you truly want something, you sometimes have to work for it. I'm sorry I can't join you myself, again, but this has been a crazy week full of-"

Altera gave a very tiny smile. "Do not worry, Doctor… Chaldea's mission comes first. I will try again tonight… thank you."


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ V ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Salon de Marie was bustling with activity as pre-dinner conversations were in full swing at tables. Looking around blankly, Altera mentally tried to decide which table to approach that interested her. She kept walking as she searched, the tables around her falling only partially quiet when she neared. Conversation were reduced to quiet talking as some eyed her. She wanted to try introducing herself, but the reactions were having an instant effect.

She would never admit it, nor be able to show it, but she felt uncomfortable every time tables would quiet down as she approached or even gazed in her direction. Were people that intimidated by her? She had no regrets on her choices as a warrior and leader, having led her armies victoriously. Altera founded a staggering empire atop her conquests.

Yet, this was the same reaction she always received.

The saber was hardly the only servant here with a controversial past. Almost all that had questionable origins had found their own groups, even heroic spirit exclusive tables for some. What stopped her from joining them was the setback that almost all tables with a servant at them were full every night. It simply seemed like there were no available seats for her that didn't involve empty tables.

…with the exception of one spacious table she just spotted. Finally, a table with servants that wasn't full, but why has she never noticed it before? Perhaps she didn't pay as much attention before Doctor Roman decided to help her two days ago. Whatever the reason, she now had a chance to be part of something.

In one of the corners of the salon sat a rounded booth with nearly half of its plush upholstery was currently vacant. There were a few servants sitting at the table, all wearing white togas with single red sashes slung across a shoulder. Atop their heads, sat wreathes of faux olive branches that glistened under their table's mood lighting. From all her conquests, she could clearly recognize the dress origins of her furthest conquests.

Hesitation throbbed in her heart on asking the Romans, one of her former adversaries, for a seat. She could only stand and stare.

One of the muscular men at the table had short blue hair that was gelled back and spiked. A shadow was cast over his eyes, but she could see the glints of red on occasion. Another taller, more muscular male with bronzed skin made grand gestures with his hands as he spoke. There was a third person at the table, but from the angle of the booth the warlord could only see the back of some blonde hair from over the seating, and a single large ahoge.

For some reason, that piece of hair was familiar to her. There was another servant here with similar hair, but she had just passed her filled table a minute ago. Perhaps it was just Deja Vu regarding the hairstyle, yet something within felt comforted at that thought. Her hesitation began to slip away at the simple sight of hair, and she couldn't fathom why. It bothered her to no end, but she could not find an answer.

Altera simply stared until a throat cleared. "You're not thinking of joining us, I hope."

In slight surprise, she looked behind her towards the source of the voice, realizing she had been lost in her own thoughts. It was hard to confuse the large, overweight servant for anyone else at Chaldea. The former emperor also wore a white toga with accompanying sash, and an olive branch wreath sat atop his head as it usually did. His green eyes examined her as he adjusted the wreath on his short, brown hair with one hand. There was a look of dismissal written across his face as he placed a hand on his hip and stared down at her.

"Surely you didn't forget what you've tarnished by invading our soil," the emperor stated low enough that other tables nearby wouldn't hear. She was at least grateful for that, though the tone left much to be desired.

"Master said-"

"Yes, yes, yes… Master said for all servants to treat others equally as we are all mutual allies in the fight for humanity. I, the great Julius Caesar of Rome, acknowledge this fully," He stated before leveling a carefully masked glare at her.

"Then what's the problem with a dinner seat?" She dared to ask, finding newfound courage. She didn't know why, but this was something she wanted to fight for. The male saber only scoffed and increased his glare ever so slightly.

"Neutral and cordial are two very different definitions. I have to be respectable in my actions towards you, and I will gladly do so as an Emperor of Rome and servant of Chaldea, but accepting you among my fellow Romans is a different story."

With that, the large man began his approach to the distant table. As he did so, the large bronze lancer stood up and waved him over as Altera watched from her spot. There was a stinging in her heart once more present, but masked by the fury that someone would dare-

No, she couldn't think like that with allies. That was bad civilization according to Master. Disappointed with the interaction, but stoic faced as usual, she turned around and walked towards the exit of the salon for the night. She suddenly didn't feel as hungry as she did before she entered. She would simply try another time and skip dinner as usual.

As she walked out, she could feel a pair of eyes watch her leave, though she did not see the curiosity and concern.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


"This field again…" Altera breathed as she sat up.

As the wind caressed her face once more, the clouds swam by and the grass flowed in waves. It was as calm and serene as always, but ever lonely to her sadness. Not troubling herself to waste time by walking, she simply hugged her legs to her knees. Why did it always have to be like this? Why couldn't she just be allowed to live a normal life like she wants to try? Is that so hard?

The tear fell from her cheek again, and in that instant, her vision crystallized once more. Frosted white shaded the edges of her vision again, and her form shrank to the childlike state of last night. Her panic returned as she stared at her smaller hands, only for her to gasp in surprise as the plains shattered. They melted and reformed into small cubes of various sizes before shooting off into the sky. They flew away faster than she could imagine, leaving her alone until only her spot of grass remained.

It, too, gave away and shattered.

Altera screamed at the top of her lungs, but there was no one to hear. No one would come to save her from the darkness as the pounding vertigo and sense of falling faded. All that remained was the sense of purpose. To her dismay, the need to destroy and eliminate filled her being once more, but it was conflicted and balanced. Soon it was overtaken, but ever present, as a more distressing emotion grasped her ever fiber.

The loneliness was back, and coupled with the fear of the endless darkness that surrounded her. Her child like hand reached out but could grasp nothing. She called out, but her voice could not be heard. No one saw her in this endless darkness, and no one would come to save her. The pitch black of her surroundings had an eerie familiarity to it, and that's what scared her the most. She was terrified and alone as she felt tears run down her face.

The strong and stoic Attila the Hun, reduced to a crying mess… but why?

Suddenly, there were footsteps. She looked forward in surprise before she saw a figure emerge. Her frosted vision hazed her sight, but she could still see the silver of the man's shoulder decorations. Though his black and crimson clothes blended with the darkness, the yellow and purple accents of his waist cape and gloves forced further fear and dismay into her heart. Though she did not recognize the fair skinned man with unruly hair, she recognized the sound.

His laughter felt too familiar, but she couldn't place it. The four silver rings that chimed at his hip were ominous yet recognizable. Still, she couldn't piece his face to her memory, nor a name to the person. What she did understand that for some reason she hated him. She hated this man with all her being and couldn't stand being in his presence. But she was helpless as he laughed.

"Awaken! Awaken, Sephyr! Fulfill your purpose!"

There was a pounding in her heart that tore at every fiber of her being. Anger, hate, despair, and guilt fought for control. Tears rained from her eyes as she screamed to be heard, only to remember no sound would ever emanate from her throat. His laughter continued, tormenting her being as an unearthly howl shrieked from her own vocal chords. Desperately pleading to anyone, she reached her childlike hands out in hopes someone would… stop her? Stop her from what?

Altera felt it as everything fell to silence. Racked and tormented by the emotions, she sobbed silently and refused to open her eyes in fear of what may be seen next. But she didn't have to fear, because she didn't see what happened next. With a hitch in her throat, she felt it. Slowly, Altera opened her eyes to see a fair skinned hand holding hers gently.

"Altera!" The voice was familiar, and so was the silhouette. It brought no fear as the light behind the figure blinded her. Still, she stared forward at her savior as she pulled her closer. Altera did not resist.

Warmth. She felt the warmth of the individual as her tear stained face was buried into the comforting bosom of her savior. Not caring where she rested, Altera simply cried into the comforting embrace. She clung to the savior with her only remaining fear that she would let go. The negative emotions from before were gone, only to be replaced by the wonderful concept.

Altera was no longer alone.

She felt it again. The winds of the plains as she dared to open her eyes. Looking to the side, she was greeted not by the plains… but by the marble columns and paved streets of Rome. At least, that's what she believed she saw as she gazed in surprise at the magnificent structures in her sight. The sky was unusual and digitalized to a degree. It was unnatural, but it also felt comforting. As she held onto her savior, she smiled as a final tear rolled.

"Isn't it beautiful, Altera? Our home? Just like you, Umu!"

With a final burst of confidence, Altera moved her smaller form up to look past her savior's bosom. She looked into the vibrant green eyes of her savior as she smiled warmly at the servant in her arms. Her golden hair framed her like a goddess. With a giggle and a tightened, yet gentle, embrace, the fair skinned savior happily spun Altera around as she noted the key feature that drew her attention.

It was the long ahoge that felt so very familiar.

"Miss Empress! How brave of you to leave our husband with me!" a female voice called from the distance. It too, felt warm and familiar.

"Don't lay a hand on our Praetor!" the woman called with a slightly irritated voice, only to be met by laughter from Altera, the distant female, and third male voice. Her savior's smile soon returned as she gazed back at the giggling servant. She didn't know why, but Altera couldn't help but giggle even if she was only ever stoic and stern in her memories. Perhaps it was because this was how a normal life would feel… Yes. It was a warm and comfortable dream that felt all too real. She wanted it for herself.

But like all dreams, they eventually come to an end. Her smile faded as the dream slowly faded into a bright light. She shook her head, willing the dream to continue, but it wouldn't. It faded at a consistent rate, and she felt her tears well once more upon losing the comforting scene. She wanted to be here more and enjoy everything… to thank her savior for giving her a pleasant dream. It was not to be, but still, the savior smiled warmly at her.

All Altera could do, was forcefully burn the face of her savior to memory.

Unbeknownst to Altera, it would be a long, long time before she had this dream again.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Though the dream echoed in her mind relentlessly, and the lost details bothered her to no end, Altera remained focused on the current situation. She sat in Roman's office very early in the morning, when he first arrived to be exact. She had revealed what had happened last night, but kept her dream private. The confrontation had irritated the doctor, but he was glad she had handled it rather well. She didn't need to have a run in with Scathach to further place problems in her way for disturbing the peace.

"To be fair, at least he said it quietly and no one noticed."

Altera only continued to look at a corner of his desk with a detached stare. He sighed and sat back down, looking at the servant in question. She knew he was likely disappointed she skipped dinner again, but if she was going to feel alone, she may as well truly feel alone.

"I'll just be sure to tell Gudao about Caesar's actions. He needs to know of that, at least." She shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was disrupt the Romans further and turn their attention against her. After that dream she just had, something was telling her this was important. She couldn't risk losing it, but it was still difficult to join them. There would be no searching for another group when something in her mind and heart was telling her this was the-

Altera abruptly stood up with a glint of determination in her eyes. "I want to try something."

Doctor Roman, shaking himself from his shock, replied quickly, "You got an idea?"

Altera nodded towards him. "I do… But I have some questions."


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Naomi sifted through more contents of the crate in an attempt to find something she overlooked. Sighing out of slight frustration she placed the lid back on the container then checked to make sure the crocheted rose was still in her hair. She tilted it back to its original position before opening up another container, finding it filled to the brim with spools of different colored thread much like the last one. She looked over the top layer and smiled, reaching out and grabbing the particular spool that caught her attention. It was a silver thread that shined much like its metal counterpart, and a rather large spool of it to her delight.

"Glad to see one still exists. Elizabeth's dress just got a little bit fancier," She beamed as she examined the spool.

The bell at the front desk rang, making her raise an eyebrow in confusion. Curious at the identity of the ringer, she walked towards the front of her department without needing to check her watch to know they weren't open yet. It was common knowledge that the Clothing Department only opened at the start of breakfast which was still an hour away. It couldn't have been any of the employees as they only arrived half an hour before opening. She was surprised to see a servant waiting at the desk with an order form in one hand, and their gazes quickly met.

"Miss Altera, it's good to see you up bright and early, but I'm afraid we don't open until 0800," Naomi stated quickly with a small smile.

"I didn't know," Altera replied with a small nod. "Please excuse me, I will return later."

"It's alright. You're new here. I'll take your order now, but please be aware of the times from now on."

With a glint of hope and gratitude in her nearly blank expression, Altera nodded and looked at the order form in her hands. Lifting the paper towards her, Naomi took it and glanced over the writing, her eye brows lifting in the process. She continued to scan the document as the servant stood there silently, her glance only being stolen for a few fleeting seconds when a robot would pass with a bundle of cloth or article of clothing.

"Really? Huh. I can get one made for you by tonight, no problem," Naomi explained as she looked at the order form. "Is this all you need, Miss Altera?"

"Yes," She replied stoically accompanied with a small nod towards the supervisor.

"Ok, I'll have it delivered to room Three-forty-four with the rest of your clothing order this afternoon."

"Thank you. I appreciate your kindness," the servant said softly before turning around and walking out of the Clothing Department. The automated double doors sliding shut behind her. Naomi stood there and scratched her head with her free hand before beginning her walk back to the office. She adjusted her precious flower before smiling in amusement. At least the newest order would take roughly thirty minutes to complete, thirty-five if she wanted some coffee first.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Breakfast and lunch had passed uneventfully, with Altera still having to sit alone upon noticing all tables with servants at them were once more full. Not as many servants chose to enjoy their lunch at the cafeteria, preferring to go to their own separate places for their meals. The ones that remained already had full tables of cordial employees or other servants, with the remaining groups being composed of the workforce. With most of them wary about her, she was left with little choice but to eat alone once more.

It wasn't as bothersome as the previous days when her thoughts were still constantly invaded by the fragmented pieces of her dream. Large columns of marble stood proud. A female voice in the distance had sounded somehow familiar. But the one thing that didn't fade from memory was the smiling face of her savior as she held the saber in her arms. If she was happy about anything these recent days, it was remembering the feeling of being appreciated by someone.

With renewed vigor, she would gladly pursue this conquest. Like the conquering warrior king she was in her past life, she would dominate this battle and secure the prized treasure of a seat with the Romans. Picking any other table may be interesting, but something in her gut and heart told her this was the proper course. She didn't understand it, just like she couldn't fathom why she only felt the urge to destroy. It was all a mystery to her, but at least it drove her forward.

So much so, that when dinner arrived, she had much more confidence in her step.

The reactions Altera currently received were much different than the ones from the previous nights as she walked through Salon de Marie. The stares and glances aimed at the servant lasted much longer. Some found it hard to move their attention away from the sight. She couldn't blame them in the least, but she kept her stoic expression.

It was a nice contrast to how tables usually ignored her. Their conversations still become secretive and low, but for a different reason. Tables still fell quiet when she approached, with most tables becoming dead silent as she passed. It was almost humorous what a simple change in wardrobe could do. They weren't fearful or cautious so much as in complete surprise or confusion at her attire.

It wasn't every day you saw Attila the Hun wearing a toga and red sash.

She quietly made her approach towards the table in the corner, hopeful that her little wish may still come true. The warlord received her weapon to see what life would be like besides that of a warrior. Downtime in Chaldea proved promising for that potential, even if they were still fighting for humanity's survival. There was envy at seeing everyone getting along so well without her, when all she wanted was a piece of normality to see how it was like. Was it so difficult to make friends and be accepted like in her dream? Unknowingly, she was about to get an answer.

"Hmph. Really, Altera?" The familiar male voice stated from in front of her. She snapped her gaze to find Caesar standing there with the same attire, his arms folded and leveling a glare at the fellow saber. At least he called her by her appreciated name.

"Is this not proper attire for your table?" Altera asked quietly.

Caesar rolled his eyes. "It's proper attire for our table. It is also proper attire for Romans. You are not Roman, Altera. If anything, you are one of the greatest banes of Rome. We will not forget your history with us so easily."

Altera rarely showed emotion, which was why even she was slightly surprised when she returned his glare with one of her own. To his credit, Caesar didn't even budge an inch as the stare-down began. The two kept glaring as surrounding tables grew interested in what occurred. Thankfully, it was still only a few stares, but that number was rising to her concern.

Murmurs erupting with guesses as to the argument. From what she heard with her enhanced hearing, some were near correct while others missed the mark completely. Was Caesar confronting Altera about the casualties she caused during her invasion of Rome? Was Altera trying to mock Roman attire by wearing her own? Did Altera steal Caesar's plate of hamburgers at lunch?

"Unless you want to really make a scene, I suggest you go to your room and change into another set of clothes, then find a seat for yourself," he worded, almost as a command.

She glared back. "Don't order me around, Caesar."

"No, no, no... I never ordered. I merely suggested," He fired back without hesitation.

With clenched fists and a partially wounded pride, she decided in the best interests of the salon, master, herself, and Chaldea's peace, to turn around and begin her walk to her room. The surrounding tables returned to normal conversations, with some talking about what has possibly just transpired. Caesar let out a grunt and began walking towards the table with a satisfied smirk. Altera didn't return that night, still refusing to spend another dinner alone at a table staring silently at the wall with no company.

…but she would not surrender so easily.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ X ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Clang.

Crumble.

Clang.

The latest impact of metal against metal ended with a stalemate as two blades were locked in contact. Their wielders refusing to back down. With a small roar, the giant, muscular servant threw a kick at the smaller one but missed as she dodged swiftly to the right, gaining distan-

With a roar, the berserker closed in rapidly and swung its weapon downward, forcing Altera to block. She grit her teeth at the sheer force of the attack and poured prana into her arms, overpowering her opponent for a brief second to dodge left and swing. She was met with a counter as the giant swiftly blocked with its blade and attempted to kick her, forcing the warlord to jump back once more.

Sizing her up from a short distance away, the tall servant grit his teeth as he gazed at her. Red eyes flared with its breath.

His skin was dark gray, stretching across bulging muscles with most of his body completely exposed to the elements. He had jet black anklets and wrist bands, both with silver bracings that matched a dark grey, padded kilt with a cloth front. Bare feet cemented themselves into the snow of the training fields as he gripped his weapon, a darkened blade similar to an oversized cleaver. The rough, gray exterior exposed an obsidian edge at its business end, with black cloth covering its handle and pommel. His black hair blew with the currently fierce wind, similar to Altera's veil.

Altera nodded at the behemoth, and he grit his teeth and roared before exploding towards her in a vicious charge. Returning the charge, their blades collided in the center of the training grounds as the shock wave sent snow flying in all directions.

She found sparring to be quite the stress reliever, and was happy to find the legendary hero Heracles was more than willing to do so. The warlord found much in common with the hero as they exchanged blows. Here, they were just warriors training to do what they do best. There was no need to think about their pasts or their troubles.

The only need was to fight each other to their hearts content.

Altera wanted very much to be something else with the chance Chaldea presented, but she knew at her core she was still the feared warrior that was still known throughout the world. There was the need for destruction she couldn't fathom or understand. As she swung her blade down with a satisfying miss that cratered the ground below, she acknowledged she needed this stress reliever. Being a warrior was tough, but trying to become something else was tougher.

It's too bad Heracles never ate and chose to confine himself in his shared quarters with the other large berserkers. Maybe he would have made a nice meal mat-

A swing sliced a few strands of hair as she dodged forward into the behemoth, slashing horizontally at its legs. Heracles jumped swiftly and spun, throwing a full slice at his opponent who dodged underneath the attack once more to close distance. She was met with a fierce kick she blocked with her sword, the sheer force of which shot the female backwards. There was another pause in the fight as the two servants got back into a fighting stance.

Altera could feel someone watching, but she chose to ignore the spectator and continue their conflict. The only thing she couldn't ignore was the raging hero before her. If she couldn't beat up Caesar, at least she could take her blows out on someone more than willing. There was too much for her to lose if she started something with the male saber, and that was something she wasn't willing to compromise. The dream had awoken an idea she couldn't comprehend, but she knew she had to follow it.

Maybe if tonight's attempt went just as badly, she could ask Heracles for a night brawl.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ XI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Altera looked herself in the mirror and adjusted her toga.

During her spar with Heracles, she was inspired by their little battle and reaffirmed giving up wasn't something Attila the Hun would do. Tactical withdrawals were necessary at times. Losses and gains had to be weighed properly to calculate when it was alright to do so, but they were acceptable. Too many made a habit, and she would not allow that. Tonight would be the night she was accepted into Rome.

Three is the charm, as some might say.

She had nothing to lose and much to gain if she could just keep trying. It was only one person at that table that was discouraging her from attempting. She was a great warlord, feared throughout history, and she was letting one overweight servant turn her away from politely asking the rest of his table for permission to eat with them. All she had to do was ask everyone else if it was alright, and if that turned out well, they would likely convince the emperor. He would no longer stand in her way.

Then the doubt began to seep into her thoughts. What if Caesar already told them and she wouldn't be accepted? Her chances may have been lost on the first attempt without her realization. If that was the case, all of this was pointless and she simply wasted her time and other- No!

Tonight was the night. She steeled her gaze at herself. "Veni, Vidi, Vici, Caesar…"

She looked at herself in the mirror and nodded in approval. Her usually stoic look was replaced with one of determination. It was a face she often held in her conquests across Asia that she decided to hide in favor of attempting pleasantries. The warlord walked through her near empty room and opened the door, ready to go to dinner and face Caesa-

Altera froze in complete shock, unable to move or even breathe as she gasped lightly.

Had she not looked forward, she wouldn't have seen the woman dressed in the same outfit as her and barged into the poor girl. But it was because of the recognizable strand of hair that she had paused in complete shock. Coupled with the toga, her mind had instantly connected the dots as she looked down. It was when her red eyes met the vibrant green that spoke loudly to her soul that she was immobilized.

There was no mistaking her savior.

The woman in question had the same blonde hair in an ornate bun, coupled with that unusual strand. Large bangs framed the sides of her face and a slightly surprised look graced those familiar vibrant, green eyes as she stared at Altera. Golden bracelets decorated her wrists, one of which was currently held up, presumably to knock on the now open door. It was her savior in the dream without a doubt, and she was in Chaldea.

Had the dream been prophetic? Was she the one who would somehow bring her what she desired? Altera was no mage, but she doubted someone in Chaldea would actively place an illusionary spell on her. There would be no point except to tease a new arrival, but it had been so descriptively clear that it was her. She could not mistake this Roman's face for anything when compared to the dream. Then did it speak of something else?

It was almost as clear as a memory, but it did not make any sense. She had never been to Chaldea, nor had she recalled any grail wars prior to this one. She was simply Attila the Hun, so why did she know who this person is? The questions began to pile, but she steeled herself for what was to come. There was no telling how she might react to such an absurd statement, so she couldn't be told of what transpired.

Altera had to keep the dream a secret.

Regardless whether this person knew or not, she couldn't reveal the dream. It was her personal drive and part of the reason she pursued the Roman table still, but it may also make them perceive her as crazy. She did not need a misidentified psychological issue from keeping her from this chance. Even so… as she stared at the vibrant green eyes that looked at her patiently, she felt compelled to say the name that, not once, had been voiced to her since arrival.

Yet, it felt so familiar for some reason. "Nero…"

The woman's eyes widened as she gasped. Altera's own remained wide as the Roman leaned in closer to inspect her. Confused and wary, but also curious, as to why she knew that name, she stared back at the woman before her. Eyes had become hopeful for some reason, but she could still feel the warmth. She felt compelled to stay near this servant, even as her eyes narrowed in slight scrutiny.

"Umu? That's it? Aren't you going to say anything else, Altera?"

The scrutiny from her eyes slowly melted into frustration as her return gaze remained puzzled. It became more confused. The servant sighed and shook her head, both with slight anger and a clear look of disappointment. Why though? What was she disappointed in? The woman suddenly crossed her arms and looked at the still surprised and bewildered Altera from head to toe. The small woman huffed.

"I see… a sad song for the muses to sing, but it can't be helped… In that case, the Empress wishes to know why you are wearing that, Altera?" The woman demanded firmly.

A sudden spark of determination and anger made its way to the surface. No, she could not be denied now, even if she did dream of her. The warlord glared at the small woman. "Am I not allowed to wear what I want, fellow Chaldean servant?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow at the white-haired servant before shaking her head again. Disappointment and confusing sadness remained in her eyes. It confused her further, but she was still frustrated by this boiling confrontation. Dream or not, she would not be denied a third time.

Altera felt the rage rising within as it peaked. Master had strictly ordered no one was to fight within Chaldea, but she was more than willing to break that if a couple of Romans weren't willing to even give her the time of day. All she wanted was to be part of a small group and try her hand at something other than being a warrior. Was that really so hard to as-

"Of course you can! My question is, why are you wearing that?" She repeated with hands now placed firmly on her hips.

Altera's rising rage subsided as some confusion welled up within. "What do you mean wh-"

"You want to sit with me right?"

Confused as to why she worded it so specifically, she couldn't help but ask. "With… you? I want to sit with the Romans and have company. I want to sit with… Nero?"

The name had felt so familiar, that she couldn't help but utter it again. The woman before her simply sighed in disappointment, but her frustration remained. Why? Why was she getting so disappointed now when she had seemed so hopeful before upon first making eye contact? What had changed that Altera couldn't see for herself!?

"Yes… I am Nero… and you're trying too hard! That looks bad on you!" the woman quickly added, gesturing towards the toga. "I'm flattered you want to look like a Roman citizen, but it just looks wrong on you. You look so much more beautiful in other clothes! Like that dress you wore the other night! Also, if you wanted a seat at our table you should have just asked me first!"

Altera blinked. Had she just heard that right?

Opening her mouth to question the small empress, she was quickly cut off by Nero brushing past her and walking towards the closet. Without hesitation, or asking for that matter, the blonde opened the closet and her eyes widened in amusement and satisfaction. Soon she began humming, and that too felt familiar… though it brought with it an unknown foreboding. What was so menacing yet similar regarding her humming?

Nero quickly browsed through the other dresses that had arrived yesterday as Altera approached from behind. Picking one of the newly delivered maxi dresses, a rainbow one in particular, she smiled and turned around to present it to a startled Altera who took it with both hands. The small blonde turned to the closet once more to fish out a sash of a possible, complimenting color. That would be a tad hard for a rainbow.

"I looked… beautiful?" Altera asked, taken back.

"Umu~! Of course you did! Not as beautiful as me, of course, but you were catching glances that whole day! You never noticed?" Nero asked honestly, tilting her head slightly as she presented the sash to her.

"I… I thought most of them were just intimidated of m-"

Nero laughed. "Most of the employees are always wary of us servants. But there were quite a few admiring looks from behind you didn't catch! Now, dress into this and let's get to dinner so I can introduce you to my fellow emperors properly."

Altera's eyes widened as Nero grabbed her gently by the wrist and proceeded to push her into the private bathroom, clothes in hand.

"I scolded Caesar, so don't worry about him anymore. He listens to me, as I listen to him," Nero explained before Altera could protest. "He loves Rome a lot, and considers anyone who ever said or did anything bad to the empire as a villain. Romulus and my uncle will be interested to meet you, but not as interested as I was!"

"But Nero, we never properly introduced," Altera said quietly, halting Nero in her tracks at the bathroom door. The blonde looked back to the warlord with a dumbfounded, yet sad, expression. Altera felt she never wanted to see her sad appearance ever again. It quickly evaporated as she smiled happily, possibly at a reassuring idea she told herself.

"Umu~! You're right! How rude of an empress!" Nero proclaimed as she faced her companion fully before declaring in a loud voice, "I, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, am pleased to make your acquaintance, Altera! May our friendship last a lifetime!"

Altera, still partially stunned, let Nero push her into the bathroom and close the door, a proud grin on her face the entire time. Though the saber did not wish to tell the Roman her dream, she did not realize she was the only one who decided, in that moment, to keep something secret until the arrival of a specific memorial essence.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ XII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


"You have to earn those hamburgers, Caesar," Gudao stated smugly from the sidelines. The wind howled but carried his message clearly, with the clouded skies above lighting the training fields with few snowflakes in the air.

Nero sat beside her master on a small chair she had brought from storage, a look of amused mischief gracing her features. Her red coat, yellow scarf, and red earmuffs kept her warm, with only a slight blush on her cheeks. The two other servants at the Roman dinner table stood behind them, both wearing matching white long coats. The bronze skinned Romulus favored a black beanie for warmth, while his companion Caligula kept a blue one. They stood with their arms crossed, grinning at the scene before them as Caesar barely dodged a vicious chop.

"Make Rome proud, my child! Roma~!" Romulus yelled from the sidelines. Caligula grunted loudly with an amused tone next to him.

A small yelp escaped Caesar's lips as a rainbow sword came down hard next to him, cratering the ground near the overweight saber after he jumped to the side with surprising agility. The blade's owner brought the weapon back into a proper stance. Altera glared at her opponent with no small amount of amusement laced into her eyes. It was clear the saber noticed with extreme discomfort that the glint of amusement had only grown since the start of the sparring session.

"Nero, please stop this!" Caesar yelled in disbelief. "I learned my lesson! I won't do it to any servant in the future! Please stop, Altera!"

To the amusement of those around her, the empress slowly stood up with her trademark smirk and thrust her hand forward in front of her as a fist. Slowly, she stuck her thumb out and twisted her arm until it pointed towards the ground.

"My child, Caesar! The Empress has spoken!" Romulus laughed, with the others joining him as Caesar pale-

His eyes shot wide open as he brought his blade up and stopped Altera's sword inches from his face. He looked into the eyes of the feared warlord as she kept their blades locked. In that moment, Caesar felt shorter than Altera as she stared him down, a small smile growing on her face that scared him more than the glare she threw at him two nights ago ever could.

"Rudeness is bad civilization." She whispered in amusement.

He paled.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ XIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


"Thank you for all your help, Doctor Roman," Altera bowed lightly with a small smile.

The doctor scratched his head bashfully near the doors to the Medical Bay. "I'm just glad it all worked out! Nero is quite the friendly servant."

"Umu~! Of course I am! It is only natural for I, the Empress of Roses," Nero proclaimed with a sweep of her hands. The other two chuckled at her antics. "Thank you, Doctor Roman, for helping her until then. I promise I'll do everything in my power to ensure she enjoys the luxury of Rome!"

"I have no doubt about that, Nero," the doctor nodded as he turned to enter the doors. "Take care, you two."

"Bye, Doctor Roman," Altera waved as Nero took her other free hand. She gently began dragging the fellow saber until she was keeping pace with the smaller blonde. Nero began humming happily while Altera walked in step.

She smiled at the proud empress beside her, not because of the small spar she helped set up earlier, but because of how warm and familiar she still felt. It had barely been a day, but she had already discarded the dream as a simple coincidence. Her first encounter with Caesar, coupled with her hopes, likely just made enough of an impression she dreamed of it. There was no need to delve into it further, especially when her dream savior had already opened the door in reality.

Thanks to Nero, Altera could finally explore the regular life she always wanted. The empress smiled at her. "Elizabeth and I are having a sing off today! Would you like to come watch?"

Regardless of the sudden sense of foreboding, Altera nodded happily. "I would be interested."

"Umu~!" Nero flashed one of the brightest, happiest grins she could, and she could feel the warmth radiant through her soul.

Altera smiled the first of countless genuine smiles she would have in Chaldea.