Fate/Geass: The Eden Vital War
Disclaimer: In this particular universe, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the Code Geass, Fate/Stay Night or any other modern works that I may reference in this story.
Long ago, there was a war between Code-bearers and their Geass gifted armies over the power of Eden Vital, a war that destroyed the legendary continent of Atlantis and sent mankind back to the Stone Age. To prevent this, direct confrontations between Code-bearers are now forbidden, with disagreements to be resolved in a ritualized war of champions. But when V.V does the unthinkable and violates this tradition, he will soon learn that he is not the only one able to bend the rules for victory.
" " denotes speech
'italics'denotes thought
'bold' denotes location names
'bold italics' denotes skill use
Zero's Quarters, Stealth Battlecruiser Skeith
In the wake of the activation of the eight Thought Elevators, the world trembled, with all of humanity brought to its knees by the power of Caster's psychic assault against the "gods", a brutal power amplified by the ancient system of ruins as it spread across the collective unconsciousness, forcing people to face their fears, their anxieties, their worst nightmares in horrific personal interludes into what might have been and what never was, allowing them to experience alternate pasts, presents, futures all at once.
No surprise then that given the number of bad ends one might have encountered in life, the regrets one bore, the unfulfilled yearnings, that almost all were crushed by this onslaught of possibilities, collapsing in place, unable to resist as the power inexorably washed over them, reducing most to temporarily helpless shells of their former self.
The only place where this was not so was on board the stealth battlecruiser Skeith, where madder red light spilled uncontrollably from the Grey Witch's body, encompassing the entire ship with a field of glowing hexagons that isolated all aboard from destructive mental interference, pitting the power of her Code against a larger power, even at the cost of great strain upon her mind and body.
'I will need to maintain this shield until we arrive at Lake Cheko, so I will retire to my quarters to rest…'
The immortal had intended to do so alone, leaving Avenger in charge—until that figure of blood and shadow had arrived on the bridge, every inch of his body radiating suffering, almost an inability to act as his mind reeled in shock.
'There are times when I am grateful for a mental connection with my Servant,' she mused silently, making up her mind to drag Avenger to her quarters to deal with him privately, even as images of what her Servant as seeing flashed into her mind, causing the immortal's lips to twitch downward in a grimace as she caught a glimpse of what "pleasantness" V.V. had shown the wraith of vengeance. 'Then again…this is not particularly one of them.'
Given the rather unusual nature of Avenger as the anti-existence of the Codes rather than a standard Servant, the mental assault should not have affected him nearly as badly. Indeed, his aura of blood and shadow (something like the psychic equivalent of chaff smoke), tended to conceal him from enemies—and was exactly the reason why Avenger had to choose to initiate fights within Phantasm World, since he could not be forced into it. Even in the earlier incident involving the trap meant for C.C., the Servant had chosen to come to his Master's aid, finding her through the connection they shared.
However…
'I see, V.V…you used a different tactic against my loyal Champion—feeding him images of reality, of suffering, of all the times he had failed to protect those he cared about…'
Thus, it was that after issuing a set of commands to the crew to head towards the nearest (non V.V.-aligned) Thought Elevator, Zero had taken her Servant and fairly dragged him into her quarters, where the two had proceeded to doff their masks and talk, with the immortal explaining to Avenger exactly why heading back to Area 11 would be a very bad idea, while using the mental connection with her Servant to try and soothe Avenger's mind as best she could.
'I…Nunnally was…nunnally was…' Lelouch's thought railed and screamed, wanting nothing more than to collapse in a useless heap of angst like the rest of the world. It was sorely tempting, to just do nothing, to just give in to the darkness—but something stopped him.
An outstretched hand in his mind, giving him strength, keeping the storm momentarily at bay. A sense of undeniable warmth from the crimson light surrounding the Grey Witch's form. His oath as Avenger, the incarnation of vengeance, his master's sword.
'I wanted to create a gentle world for Nunnally's sake…' the Servant thought as he sobbed into C.C.'s chest, hot tears streaming down his cheeks at all that he had lost. 'She was the main reason I lived…to create that gentle world…but in the end…'
In the end, he could not protect his beloved younger sister from being killed by V.V., the being who had already taken so much away from him—his mother, his friends…and now this, losses which compounded one upon the other, leaving only an infinite void filled with suffering voices, each demanding vengeance, demanding justice, demanding retribution.
'That's right…I am the soul of the void,' Avenger recalled, focusing on the two things remaining to him: the presence of the Grey Witch, and what he was—the world's despair and pain given form. 'Fire is my blood and vengeance my purpose. Having borne infinite suffering upon these narrow shoulders, within this empty heart, I exist only as the edge of a blade. Allowing none to escape from my blades, allowing none to escape from my sight. Retaliation, not forgiveness, despair, not hope, darkness, not light, death, never life.'
V.V. and Charles zi Britannia had taken away so much from so many, and now, they sought to claim the world?
'Never. That I will not allow!' the Wraith of Vengeance resolved, his soul boiling with an intense anger that came of being pushed too far beyond one's limits, his tears drying, leaving only hard eyes and a body determined to do what was necessary. If no proper Servant could stand against V.V. and Charles in their absolute territory, then it would fall to Avenger to stop them once and for all—for after all, was that not his purpose: to avenge those who had fallen to injustice?
"Are you alright, Avenger?" came the somewhat strained voice of the Grey Witch, her presence pervading his senses as he returned more or less to reality.
'I wonder how much suffering has C.C. seen in her many years of existence, how she is able to persist as she does. She is truly a strange being, but one I am grateful to have met.'
"I've been better, but I'll live," the raven-haired prince spoke, his voice somewhat muffled by the Witch's soft bosom. "A better question: how are you?"
"Same…I'll live," C.C. replied wryly, her face, something of an unreadable mask, as her hands held her Servant close as if to sear the impression into her memory, rubbing some of the knots of tension from his spine.
"You do realize that's not saying much coming from you, right?" Lelouch shot back, a tiny hint of a smile on his lips as he drank in her warmth, letting himself rest for a moment before the battle to come.
A soft chuckle, edged with darkness, as fingers gently traced lines upon the Servant's cheek and jaw, soft amber eyes gazing upon him strangely once more.
"Perhaps," Zero whispered softly, her breath hot against Avenger's ear. "I do realize more than you know, you terrible Servant."
"Somehow, witch, I'm not surprised…"
Phantasm World of Caster – "Ephemeral Masquerade"
In the sky, the clouds are moving, with heat lightning arcing from cloud to cloud to ground, the harsh momentary illumination of these electrical cascades setting off alarm bells inside the heads of those brought to this world, as ominous grey funnel shapes like overgrown fingers reached down all around a battered threadbare field of wheat, moving in seemingly random patterns that left destruction in their wake. There was no wind at ground level…yet, but way up in the sky, the air was roaring, as overlapping clouds rotated in a powerful updraft.
"A Knightmare…such an inelegant weapon in this phantasmal world," sneered Charles zi Britannia, as he observed the actions of the intruders through the flickering illumination.
"Indeed…but even with such a thing, against the Yamata no Orochi, they have no chance," V.V. concluded, with an evil smirk.
"Using a dragon from the legends of the Elevens against an Eleven, how amusing," Charles replied, a slow and evil laugh emanating from his form. "And then, with the rest of the seven dead, the gods will finally face our reckoning."
Flash!
Another bolt of lightning, uncomfortably close this time, where casting nightmare shadows into the field as low-hanging mists obscured vision, as a blizzard raged on unabated in the dimming light of dusk, with a helical spear being thrust at a great inverted eye overhead, stripping away the veneer of illusion that kept reality in place.
"GYAWWOOO!"
Above it all a serpent roared, howling a furious challenge as it descended from the sky, the air wrapping around its sinuous form rippling, distorted by miniature vortices of fire as that evil-shaped form too massive to compare shot towards the black and crimson Knightmare Frame and the man in white-gold armor perched upon it, vorpal claws and tails lashing out to—
Clang!
—clash against the comparatively tiny Katana that Rider's Mark Nemo swung against it, batting the annoyance aside with a casual backhand, sending the unit hurtling towards the ground, as—
Whirr! Whirr!
—the unit's Blonde Knives (essentially Slash Harkens that moved to engage enemies automatically, each drilling rapidly and capable of penetrating almost anything) shot out, wrapping around one of the Orochi's grasping clawed forelegs and arresting its fall with a thud.
Up until now, Rider had had the "pleasure" of facing more manageable opponents, beginning with Avenger (who had bested her with trickery and cunning, not sheer strength), moving to Assassin (who she had defeated rather handily, before the boy ran away), and scaling up to Lancer, a Servant who had met her on at least equal terms (with a phantasmal Knightmare—a flying knightmare, at that—of his own), growing more comfortable with combat in phantasmagoria with each experience.
In this battle, however…
"Damnit all, why do all my opponents have the ability to fly?ǃ" the redhead girl cursed, channeling her will into her "Knightmare" of sorts, the supposed crystallization of the fear of an inhuman enemy, while still appearing more or less in human shape. 'And why, of all things, do I have to fight the Yamata no Orochi? I mean, talk about overpowered…'
Vrrr!
A grating metallic sound, sparks flying as the Mark Nemo used the tangled cables to winch itself upwards, jerking up in a smooth motion as it brought its katana to bear upon the dragon's (hopefully) soft underbelly, with Saber adding the might of his liquid metal spears, thrusting out with incredible velocity and force—
Clang! Fsssh!
—only to be repelled, as the iridescent jet-black scales of this eight-headed spectrum dragon proved remarkably resistant to being cut, pierced, or otherwise damaged as it thrashed violently, drawing one of its vorpal talons across the cables from which the Knightmare was suspended, plunging the smaller figure into a lurching freefall, and—
Thwack!
—punted the plummeting mobile armor through the air in the direction of a particularly vicious looking tornado, the multiple vortices swirling about its center heavy with white-hot iron sands that almost seemed to beg for something to rip apart. And without a way to change the direction of Mark Nemo's flight, it seemed that this struggle—
"Expand! Boundary of the Wind King!"
So bellowed Li Xingke from the head of the Knightmare, to which the white and gold clad Servant had anchored himself with his liquid metal whips to keep from being shaken off like a used rag. In response to his will, Saber's invisible sword erupted with a massive amount of wind, a typhoon like power that exploded outwards, halting the Mark Nemo's flight and suspending it in mid-air so that Rider's Knightmare floated in mid-air, its primary disadvantage taken away.
"Nice trick," observed Rider, a slight bit of tension dissolving from her as the redhead smirked, her unit whirling to face the eight-headed serpent, which had apparently turned away, thinking the battle finished. "I don't suppose you have any anti-dragon Noble Phantasms you're hiding?"
"I wish it were so, as I did not expect to face the most feared dragon of Japanese mythology," Saber replied, not at all amused by the situation, as maintaining control of the local wind sapped his mana reserves. "However, I have some faith in my sword, and the powers it bears."
Such confidence was only to be expected of one had been chosen as Saber, the hero of the sword said to be the strongest of the seven proper Servants, particularly an individual who wielded the weapon he did—a weapon that was becoming visible as the sheath of compressed wind that had hidden it from view was released chaotically into its surroundings. Slowly, it faded into view as a nodachi seemingly forged of liquid light, the Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi ("sword of the gathering clouds of heaven"), a holy sword that was the crystallization of the concept of valor.
"Well, you are Servant Saber, so if you didn't have faith in your sword, I'd be more than a little worried," Kallen remarked, as a powerful gust bore the Mark Nemo and its sword-wielding passenger towards the ebon dragon with the speed of the divine wind!
"AROUUGHAAAA!"
—only to strike at nothing except a barrier of flames, as the Yamata no Orochi let loose a bestial roar, having noticed the survival of the annoyance…or more to the point, the sword that Saber carried, shooting up into the concealing clouds above with a howl of frenzied wrath, as the amount of lightning that crackled through the sky doubled and redoubled, with the air below seeming almost to congeal, cooling even further as a killing intent radiated outwards as if…
'The serpent is draining the energy from the sky for an attack,' Saber realized, his instincts as a warrior warning him that no good would come of this, with the man readying his sword, its golden light building, as currents of illumination converged and accelerated, intensifying the energy concentrated there.
WHOOSH!
A dislocation tore through space, as with a flash of light and a roar of wind, a swirl of destruction was loosed from the dragon's eight maws, transforming into massive jaws of serpentine lightning that surged unerringly towards the Mark Nemo, chasing it through the sky.
"Rider, dodge it!" Saber called out, bending the local wind to his sway to force the the Knightmare Frame under him away from the attack with all the speed it was capable of, attempting to evade at least the core.
'If I can avoid the attack's core…I'll have to oppose it with the greatest power I am permitted!'
"Ama-no-Murakumo-" Saber bellowed, pouring magical energy into the sword up to its limit in mere seconds, invoking the true name of his legendary blade and executing his attack with the greatest power. "-no-Tsurugi!"
There was no hesitation, as Saber released the full power of a sword that could vaporize the whole of the Yellow River in one blast, a fierce wave of light exploding outwards at the oncoming swirl of destruction!
Rrrr! Whooomm!
An immense impact like two colliding stars, as the crashing lights became an exploding sun, superheated wind roaring out in flashes of heat of light that shook the world to its foundations, the sheer force behind them creating a boundary in space.
Rumble!
A combination of beats like a strobe, as each power momentarily gains the upper hand, with Saber pouring more and more of his power into his attack as the Yamata no Orochi amplified its onslaught, as if to erase this imitation of its powers from existence, with the battle of the powers making Rider fear the earth would split in two!
How long would this struggle last?
Crash! BOOM!
After long seconds, it suddenly ended, with Saber's sword overpowered and the Mark Nemo engulfed in scorching light, slammed into the ground by the fierce dislocation in space, armor cracked in myriad places as hail and frozen rain beat down on the black Knightmare.
"Kuh…!" Rider gasped from within the cockpit of this mobile suit, as the innards of the KMF threatened to collapse, forcing it upright with will alone, though the joints creaked as if stressed to the breaking point. "Saber…are you…?"
A groan of agony and a soft thunk from outside the cockpit, as Xingke's burned and bloody form winches itself back into the Mark Nemo's shoulders with his liquid metal whips, his clothing ragged and torn from the overwhelming power of the attack. At the moment his sword had failed him, Saber had dropped behind the Knightmare Frame for a measure of protection against the distortion.
"…still alive for now," came the weak reply, as Xingke wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and raised his sword once again. Whatever else he might be, Saber was a swordsman without even the concept of disloyalty or defeat in this world, for the one he served was timid and weak, and it would take time for the Tianzi to mature—thus it was his role to be heartless, to strike down his foes. "Not enough mana to control the wind for long though…"
As a Servant summoned to this battlefield, the only thing in him is the will to defeat the enemy before him, though it will certainly be no joke—he has already suffered great injury. Should things continue to go awry, he would die. Even with the help of Servant Rider's Knightmare Frame, Saber understood how difficult the battle would be—but what kind of servant would he be if he couldn't do something like this?
'Even if the chance of winning does not exist, I will create it with his sword,' Xingke resolved, gulping in air as he ignored the pain in every inch of his body.
From the little viewing platform in the distance, V.V. laughed riotously, as if amused by the duo's feeble attempts to resist their end.
"So the power of Saber's holy sword was only that strong?" the immortal boy chortled, as the pages of his tome of eldritch lore flipped of their own accord. "Humanity's illusion of valor is so frail and tenuous? As expected for one of humanity's masks against fear, so easily smashed. Still, this complete victory is rather boring…perhaps I should have taken it easy on you…after all, you and Rider are still just children!"
An irritating laugh that carried over the air into the heavens—and to where the Knightmare stood defiant, with its two passengers gritting their teeth at the sound, scorched and battered though they was.
"But no matter, playtime is over," the smug voice of V.V. continued after but a moment. "Yamata no Orochi—kill them!"
"GYAWWOOO!"
Acceding to its summoner's wishes, the immense eight-headed dragon roared, howling a furious challenge as its fire-wreathed form flashed down from the sky, steam hissing from its body as it sought to smash its wounded enemy once and for all. It rushed towards the humanoid form of Mark Nemo, the air around it boiling with vast amounts of magical energy, rending its surroundings just by drawing near.
There was no possible way for a Knightmare to block such a thing, only to jump and evade. But even if Rider avoids being destroyed in one hit, the armor of her Knightmare Frame will still crack under the strain.
WHOOM!
Saber tried to deploy a wall of wind as a barrier—but his Noble Phantasm did not even slow down the rampaging beast, as air sizzled, and the sound of immense wings flapping whump-whump-whump fills the sky, the Yamata no Orochi flashing down from high above like a divine wind!
ZHOOM!
It buzzed the Knightmare frame, skimming the surface of the ground, the turbulence around it mowing the Mark Nemo down with the force of its aura alone, before the great wyrm returned to the sky, turning to come around again.
'Pursuit is impossible. Without Saber's wind, Mark Nemo cannot fly, and still—' And then an insane idea came into Rider's head as she took note of the tornadoes scattered through the battlefield, remembering an old movie she had seen some time ago. 'That's right…its crazy, but it just might work…if I just want to get airborne.'
"Hey Saber…hang on tight," the redhead ordered, as the nimble Knightmare Frame took off in a run, blurring into motion as it sprinted towards one of the rust-colored vortices in the distance.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Without hesitation, the avatar of Nightmares thundered across the battlefield with speed belied by its size, leaping forward in a frenzied zig-zag-zig toward the largest of the tornadoes, with Rider hoping that her Knightmare's armor would hold up.
From his perch upon the Knightmare's head, Saber reinforced his liquid metal battle tool to keep him from being thrown off as the Mark Nemo sped towards…
'There's no way,' Li Xingke thought to himself, as his eyes alighted on their destination. 'Even I have done reckless things for victory, but this isn't strategy, this is suicide…'
"Rider…don't tell me you're going to…" Saber began, wanting to reason with the redhead, but—
"Like I said, Britannia has no idea what this badass mother can do!" was the response, as the Knightmare Frame only increased its pace towards the colossal mesocyclone looming before the duo, the twisting, rotating eye of God that sucked up wind and spat out sheet lightning. "When we get closer, use your wind to protect yourself from debris."
The redhead would not be dissuaded from her course—in momentum, size, force, Rider was outmatched—she could not beat the Yamata no Orochi. All she could do on the ground was to avoid total destruction as best she could, taking a minimum of damage. Thus…
'I will do the unexpected and pierce the heavens to win…'
"Our chances of surviving this are not high, you realize," Saber's voice croaks out, though the Servant dressed in white and gold simply hunkered down, sword in hand, knowing that his chance of survival without Mark Nemo would be even worse.
"Maybe," Kallen answered, as the Yamata no Orochi buzzed them once again, one of the serpent's eight tails lashing out and hurling the Knightmare frame forward. "But it isn't zero. As far as I'm concerned, that means we will succeed."
'Besides, given that this world is created by Caster, and that I doubt the Britannian Emperor has a complete understanding of the weather, there's actually a strong chance that we'll survive this,' Rider kept to herself, just in case she was wrong.
Crash! Thwack! Clang!
As Rider advanced, the howling of the wind increased in volume until it was nearly overwhelming, a shriek of terror and pain that would not be denied, as debris from the ground smacked against the Knightmare Frame, as Xingke brought up a cocoon of wind to keep the worst of it from smashing him, pouring all the energy he could into it, mind and body paralyzed, blank before the promotion of death. For not just Saber's garments, but even the fields of wheat, the dirt below, the rocks, and all are shaking and creaking as the wind lifts them up into the air like so much chaff!
WROOAAAHHH!
As Mark Nemo made its final approach into the fierce 400+ mile per hour winds surrounding the tornado, even the Yamata no Orochi peeled away, unwilling to risk itself in the vortex of blindly raging wind that made up the largest of the battlefield's tornadoes.
Thump! Thump!
"Whooo—"
And there was liftoff, as the Knightmare Frame was tossed up into the air by what seemed the hammer of the gods, being drawn inward, inward, upward as they spiraled up into the sky, lightning crackling all around them as the black armor was flung round and round and round.
'By the dragon of the sky…' Saber thought to himself, keeping a small barrier of wind centered on himself to prevent impact from the free-flying debris. 'I hope I survive this…'
'This had better work…' Rider thought, bracing Mark Nemo as rocks impacted her unit's armor, rattling her teeth as the plates were dented, bruised, damaged, with the frame itself obscured from view by the red-hot ironsand. 'I'm only going to have one shot at this…'
On the observation platform, V.V. just looked on in sheer disbelief as Rider and Saber drove the Mark Nemo into the heart of a 2.5 mile wide tornado in a desperate attempt to escape the Yamata no Orochi, wondering just what kind of suicidal Servants had been chosen in this particular Eden Vital War.
'Then again, if they serve that witch of a Counter Guardian and wish to prevent me from implementing my plan, they must be insane…' the eternally young boy thought to himself, signaling the eight-headed dragon to ascend into the clouds once more, just in case the Knightmare Frame did somehow manage to survive.
Back inside the vortex…
"Keep us in the center—we need to gain as much altitude as possible," Rider screamed, her voice hoarse as the mobile armor shook from the stresses and strains the wind was placing upon it, with the KMF spreading its arms and legs wide to expose the maximum amount of surface area for lift. "And once we're up at the top…"
'Fortunately, there is a lack of large debris, so none of us have been hit by such, yet…'
"Understood," Saber replied, pulling himself very close to the back of the Mark Nemo to prevent being blown away—literally, his liquid metal slash harkens emerging from ankles and wrists to sticking into the Knightmare. "I will…execute to the best of my ability."
Round and round and round they swirled, moving up up up the spiral vacuum of the howling wind, speed accelerating, accelerating, accelerating, until at last—
"NOW!"
—a gust of wind altered the Knightmare Frame's velocity just a hair, as it slingshotted out, lofted out of the tornado and up into the parent storm at terrifying speeds—exactly what Rider had been hoping for, since now she was above the Yamata no Orochi and out of sight.
"NNGGHH?"
A frustrated growl from below, as the dark shimmer of scales was revealed through a minor opening in the clouds, and immense wings beat a syncopated rhythm in the air as it searched for the little Knightmare, ascending—
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Clang!
—with Blonde Knives shooting out, cables wrapping around one of the center heads, as the Mark Nemo plummeted down into an open, roaring mouth, guided by Xingke's local mastery over wind, jamming the Knightmare Frame's vibro-katana up into the upper jaw to keep it open, with the frame bracing the jaw with all its might.
Riippp!
'At this range, it can't use its powerful beam weapon…'
"You know the plan…disengage your tether and use your control of wind to stay aloft," Rider ordered, her fingers hovering over two switches in the cockpit of her ultimate Knightmare. "You'll know the signal when you see it…"
Click! Click!
Without a word, Xingke disengaged his links to the Mark Nemo and flipped back and away, retracting his liquid metal battle tools as he summoned a barrier of wind about himself, carrying him out of the mouth.
Rider took a deep breath, depressing one switch, then another as a 10-count countdown began, numbers red in the Knightmare's viewscreens, before promptly ejecting herself from the frame, a rocket motor kicking in to move her as far away from the frame as was possible.
Farther, father, farther…then—
"Broken Phantasm: Mark Nemo!"
At Rider's words, the cockpitless Knightmare exploded as though every square inch were packed with liquid sakuradite, a mighty sphere of devastation burst into being, engulfing the dragon's gargantuan head in blinding silver light from within, utterly destroying the head in which it had been parked, as well as part of the neck.
'While the scales of the Yamata no Orochi were certainly tough, difficult for anything to penetrate,' Rider allowed, witnessing the aftermath of her greatest attack, 'this resistance applies from both sides, keeping the full effect of the explosion from diffusing, allowing the concentrated shock waves to vaporize the head, and a radius around it.'
A gaping hole was exposed where the windpipe had been, with the other heads taking notice of the swordsman floating in the air on a column of wind.
"AROUUGHAAAA!" the remaining seven-heads snarled out, magical energy charging out for a blast incomparable even to the one from before—
'An opening!' Saber observed with no emotion, using his barrier of wind to slip through the opening in the dragon's defenses with the speed of a meteor, racing down an open windpipe from an explosively decapitated head, sword drawn and slashing through the long neck with ease as he found himself in the lungs. 'And no creature is well defended against attack…from within.'
Within, the battered Servant of the sword is surrounded by a moist darkness, with the wind centered on him turning into a raging tempest as the final seals fell from the glowing sword, revealing its golden light. Quickly, he poured what magical energy remained in him into the sword, filling it to its limit in mere seconds, until in his hands was an assembly of the planet's light, evocative of the holy sword matched only by Excalibur.
"Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi!" he bellowed, invoking the true name of his blade to release a miracle into the world!
What emerged was a line of light, a blade that exploded outward and sliced apart the Yamata no Orochi from within, tearing through the dragon's hide, parting the clouds in its wake, as a raging gale swirled around the injured Saber, who turned now, growling under his breath, to the two figures on the observation platform—the ones who were the source of this world.
'Now…I will end you!' the Servant of the sword thought to himself, charging the Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi for a final strike as he shot forward, desiring to get in range to deliver a finishing blow.
On the great black gear that formed the viewing platform, V.V.'s eyes widened in shock, his blood running cold as he witnessed the demise of the greatest dragon in Japanese legend, with Servant Saber emerging from the remains with his glowing sword.
'How can this be? In legend, the Yamata no Orochi, which in legend was unmatched in battle, defeated only by trickery (involving adamantine gates, vats upon vats of alcohol, a fair amount of gluttony, and being slaughtered in it sleep). So how can these weak Servants…'
Still, the Mark Nemo was nowhere to be seen, and Rider's presence in the field was very faint, so V.V. supposed that they could deal with her later, is weak, so we will deal with her later. First though…
"Charles, take care of Saber, would you?" the young immortal asked, seething inside as he flipped past a charred and blackened page in his grimoire De Vermis Mysteriis, seeking to summon a set of four dragons this time. "I will show these Servants the might of the Four Dragon Kings…since four is death in their culture, is it not?"
"Very well then," replied Emperor Charles zi Britannia, raising one of his large, hammerlike hands as he narrowed his eyes, ceasing all movement as if to summon strength.
Bzzzzzzzzzt!
Strangely enough, the expanse of air centered on Saber began to waver, the world pulsing as energy was leeched from the surrounding storm, the atmosphere growing tense and heavy as Caster did his work.
Noting this, Saber slowed, looking around to see if an ambush was nigh, expanding his barrier of wind as he sought to protect himself from any untoward incursion into his personal space.
"You are truly a strong Servant," V.V. spoke aloud, pitching his childish voice to be heard by the oncoming swordsman. "However, you cannot win against me, because I have something you lack."
The pressure of the air continued to intensify, as the wavering grew more and more powerful, the solidity of the world itself beginning to be called into question.
"You know, don't you, Saber," came the voice of the taunting immortal. "Right, it is the experience of death. I have seen the other side and thus know what death is…but you do not. That is the difference between us. You humans are afraid of the unknown, and so you fear death…knowing that no matter how long-lived you are, how mighty you become, you cannot escape its inevitability. You gain so much power by resisting death, but at the same time it is the source of your weakness. You run away from death whereas I accept it."
Saber only grunted, trying to close in through the entrapping air, but found that his own wind was being negated, his barriers failing as the air around him thickened to the density of molasses.
"I know about death," V.V. chuckled, his teeth revealed in a feral grin. "about the darkness. The nothingness which I have journeyed through so many times…to me, death is little more than a common ritual. Even if you destroy this body right here, I'll still remain in this world. Why don't you understand it's useless to fight me?"
But the swordsman was defiant, unrelenting in his approach as he hefted his golden sword, intoning its true name to—
"Ama-no-Murakumo-no—"
And then all the air around Saber bled away in an instant, leaving the Servant of the sword incapable of invoking the power of his Noble Phantasm.
"Alright," noted V.V. "Well then, since you insist on challenging me…I will reward your resistance. Charles?"
A shallow nod from the Britannian Emperor, as the air buzzed and hissed like a thousand angry wasps.
Crack!
The sound of the air itself ripping apart, as the warping of the atmosphere propagated through the Phantasm World.
The entire world pulsed.
The waves of wheat, the tornadoes, the rain, the clouds, the air itself—they transmuted themselves into roiling waves as if they were a shredder with tens, hundreds, thousands, no, a countless number of blades!
"Tsuru—" Saber managed in the brief moment air returns, but in vain.
In a single instant, the Servant's body disappeared—distorted, sliced, compressed, ripped apart to its component atoms.
And then all ceased, and the Phantasmal World was returned to a blank white expanse, revealing a bleeding Rider crawling out of her crashed cockpit, all that remained of the now vanished Mark Nemo.
'So...you Britannian bastards resort to this, do you? Attacking from a distance, mocking your foes even in death? You summon minions to fight for you, use spells and arcane lore, attack the innocent along with the guilty? That's the the coward's path so...well then...I'll just have to kill you both!'
The redhead glowered at the two with hatred in her eyes, standing defiantly against V.V. and Caster as her crimson hair rippled like snakes hungry for life force, uncountable strands of hair-like light pulsing about her form.
Whoosh!
A powerful surge of red emanated from Rider's form, prehensile strands of fiery thread streaking out towards the two figures in her view, as if to capture them in a web of burning death, to plunder their lives!
Sizzle!
Moving at the speed of sight, the caging hair shot out and enveloped V.V.'s form, enveloping the immortal in a haze of flame, the pain maddening to bear, as Rider's gaze moved from him to—
"Charles!"
Crunch! Crash! Slash!
Without warning, jagged spikes erupted from the ground under Rider, but Kallen had sensed the killing intent and leapt out of the way, regrettably breaking eye contact with her targets as the environment itself became her enemy, as—
Bzzzt!
Once again the atmosphere thickened, becoming more buoyant, the pressure holding her up from the ground and preventing her from moving, the air pressure increasing, increasing, choking—
Flash!
With a burst of light, V.V. vaporized the strands of caging hair that had seared him, fury in his eyes as he continued to incant his summoning spell, intending to call upon the might of the four guardian dragons of the cardinal directions, as Caster made ready to vaporize the body of the one who had allied herself with C.C.
"Now, foul Servant, vanish from this—"
WHOOSH!
Twin beams of heat and light surged outward from a massive dislocation in space, as dual Hadron Cannons shattered the formerly featureless wall of the expanse, revealing the black and gold painted Knightmare Frame called the Gawain, with the unholy form of Avenger perched upon its shoulder, eyes glowing ominously as shadows shifted all around, gunblades pointed at the immobile Caster and V.V.
"Reason – Ultima Ratio Regum!"
The harsh baritone of the demon king called out into the void, as he flipped off from the Knightmare into the air, invoking the true power of his gunblade Noble Phantasms.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Tracers of fire, crimson and azure, blazed out, striking at V.V. and Caster and shattering the concentration of the two on their spells.
"Atonement - Ordo ab Chao!"
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
The twin gunblades disgorged round after round on fully automatic rates of bullet spam, hurling a lethal amount of silver slugs into the air as the V.V. and Caster, forced to split their focus, could not fully dodge, finding themselves grazed by one round each—Caster taking a shot through his hands, and V.V. clipped on the shoulder.
Angered by this, Caster attempted to shift the world to his will with Marble Phantasm, but—
"Wh—at? It's not…how dare you seal my Marble Phantasm!"
No effect.
Thump!
Avenger's shadowed form touched down upon the floor, as more and more bullets were shot out, followed by Slash Harkens from the Knightmare above, with Caster and the immortal blond boy having to choose between one or the other to block.
Since their physical bodies were present—it was much wiser to block the Knightmare's power as—
WHOOSH!
Once again, twin beams of heat and light surged outward from a massive dislocation in space, as dual Hadron beams sought their enemies—only for V.V. to teleport along with Charles—
Crack!
Right into the path of a storm of flechettes loosed by the demon king, with the two barely managing to block in time as—
Fwoosh!
The sound of flames, as V.V. looked down at his De Vermis Mysteriis, to look on in horror as the tome burned to a crisp, the pages all charred and blacken, the power of his grimoire now unusable.
For that was the true power of Avenger's gunblade, 'Atonement - Ordo ab Chao', a weapon with the power to seal away an opponent's greatest weapon upon a successful hit—even if that hit was but a graze. While this meant that the Wraith of Vengeance would be unable to use his greatest Noble Phantasm Fragarach, it also meant that the opponent had the same disadvantage.
"LELOUCHHHHHHHHH!" V.V. howled in primal fury, as he brought up a shield of light against the bullets. "Charles, finish—ahhh!"
But he was rudely interrupted when the floor gave out under his feet, smoke and dust filling the room.
Crack, fssh, ripppp!
With Caster unable to stop it, knots and lines of darkness raced through the phantasm world, as the expanse collapsed around them, this illusionary realm splintering little by little, until it broke apart with a deafening roar, revealing the Sword of Akasha in all its glory. On the far side of the Sword of Akasha, Rider staggered to her feet, badly injured after her near brushes with death, resolving to finish things here.
Thump!
The sound of a cockpit hissing open, as C.C. buzzed in towards the helical spear and used her powers as Code-bearer to extract the hostages, switching places with the princess and the orangette, and setting them inside the cockpit of the Gawain as she leapt out, frozen scythe drawn, ready for battle.
Flash!
A burst of crimson light, and the black and gold Knightmare shot far away into the expanse of the World of C, with an angry Grey Witch staring down her opponents. She would return them to the physical world if and when the battle was over—until then, it was safer to be here, mentally.
"So you have come here at last, Counter Guardian," V.V. spat in a voice filled with hate. "And once again, you bring your pet demon, the creature that is the manifestation of all the evils of the world."
"So I have, V.V., you little immortal brat," replied the Grey Witch, her scythe glinting dangerously in the eternal twilight. "And it seems you have summoned forth your other Noble Phantasm…"
"Of course," V.V. mocked, scoffing at the Reaper in White. "For what wretched hero would only have one object to mark their legend?"
C.C.'s lips pressed together in a thin line as she raised her scythe in salute.
"A being that only ever needed one to begin with," answers the Reaper in White, blurring into motion as she charged, form ablaze with silver light, metallic clangs ringing out as the two Code-bearers clashed, their wills warring to the bitter end. "Let this be the end, V.V."
"So be it, Counter Guardian," V.V. hissed, springing backwards, anger upon his childlike features as he drew a set of silver war fans. "Let's finish our grudge once and for all."
Clang! Clang! Clink!
Knowing that any magic he used would be countered, the immortal boy sought physical dominance instead, aiming to get inside her reach, his twin war fans blocking, striking, crashing, pitting speed against strength, skill against power.
But they were not the only ones confronting each other in the heart of the world…
"My prodigal son, it has been a long time," boomed Caster, glowering fiercely at the raven-haired prince, raising his hands. "Why are you here?"
"So it has, Charles zi Britannia," Avenger hissed, his eyes like embers as he aimed his gunblades at his father's heart. "You…you and V.V. have taken everything from me. "Mother. Nunnally. My friends. Everything. You sent us to Japan as hostages. And now…you will pay!"
Crack-a-crack-a-crack!
Tracers of light and fire blazed out once again, but this time, met with a conventional magical barrier, of the sort of magic all Casters knew, since that class was not usually one to rely on Noble Phantasms.
"It was necessary, my son," Charles intoned, but the response was only a fierce snarl, and more bullets shot as the demon advanced on his father.
"Necessary?ǃ Necessary for what?ǃ What kind of parent does that?" raged the Wraith of Vengeance, his footfalls growing ever nearer as— "Ugh!
—a magical circle blazed into existence before Charles, spitting out verdant bolts of death towards Avenger, who was thrown back by the torrent of energy released.
"Masks will vanish, then everyone can be exactly who they're supposed to be," Caster boomed, even as scythe met war fans around them, and V.V. summoned doppelgangers of himself to oppose the Grey Witch. "For the sake of a wish, to create a world free of lies!"
"But is that not the greatest lie of all…a world without lies? That is a world without dreams, a world without surprise, a world without tomorrows," Lelouch snarled, the cloak of shadow around him drinking in the power around it as claws lengthened from his fingers, and his teeth sharpened. "You killed so many, threw everyone away for the sake of your LIE?ǃ I won't let you take anyone else away from me!"
"People are not equal!" bellowed Charles zi Britannia, as energy lanced out at the false Servant. "Come, Knights of the Round!"
Twelve Knights in full ceremonial plate armor arose from the ground to challenge the oncoming Avenger, their forms gleaming silver in the eternal twilight of the World of C as they moved to engage him, surrounding him on all sides, moving in a coordinated fashion to finish him as—
Clang!
One of these Knights was incinerated by a torrent of red, with Servant Rider moving in to join the battle against these phantasms, eyes glinting, chained daggers whirring through the air.
"Tch! I'll handle these cheap imitations of Knights, Avenger," Kallen said, casting a baleful glare at the Britannian Emperor, releasing a surge of hair-like strands, which the man moved to block. "You settle things with him."
"Got it, Q-1," Avenger nodded, the speed and power of infinite wrath flowing into him as he vaulted over the phantasmal knights to face the man who had been responsible for so much pain in so many lives, a man against whom the world cried out for vengeance.
"This is my territory, my prodigal son," Caster intoned, his deep bass rumbling over the metallic clangs in the distance. "Do you really think you can stop me here? You are laboring under delusion…for the sake of my wish, if you will stand in my way, then you too must die."
"Oh, so you want to kill me now, do you, just like you killed mother, and Nunnally?" snarked the demon king. "Just like you did nothing while V.V. did your dirty work for you? You despicable coward…hiding behind your minions…you and your immortal master…you betrayed me—and I shall repay that betrayal. You wish to kill me? Come on then, let us kill each other, Charles zi Britannia! Face me...like a king!"
A surge of motion, a flurry of verdant bolts, a hail of flechettes.
"LELOUCHHHHHHHHH!" came the Britannian Emperor's howl, as battle was joined in the heart of the world.
A/N: And so it begins, the duel of those who wish for tomorrow, with those who seek only to destroy a mask. Thanks for reading, and reviews are much appreciated!