"Volunteers! Please standby to assist!" Da Vinci's voice echoed into the Deployment Room.

"I hope they have good stories to tell," a battle-clad Arash joked with a playful nudge of the assassin beside him. They were two of the dozen waiting to help the arrivals.

Cursed Arm merely chuckled and nodded his head while Asterios laughed. He looked up at Shiva, which had turned blue with the successful completion of the singularity. The masters and the final servants had successfully defeated Tiamat, though there were final injuries including a now unconscious Gudao. Upon hearing the need for aid, Cursed Arm had immediately volunteered without hesitation, and was not surprised to see Arash here either.

He noticed Medea tense up slightly as the bright flashes of light filled the vast chamber. With only a split few milliseconds staggering them, the last of the deployed forces returned home. Not wasting any time, Cursed Arm and Arash ran forward with the other servants close behind. Already the assassin could see Mashu cradling the unconscious Gudao, and just seeing the blood on his battle suit made his concern rise. Medea would have to do a bit of healing before they dared to move him further.

Looking over the tired servants, his eyes landed on Arturia who was being supported by Arthur. Both of them looked to be in rough shape, so he approached without hesitation. He nodded to them, "King Arthur and King Arturia. Do you two require any additional help?"

"We'll be alright, thank you," Arturia replied with a small smile and firm nod. Cursed Arm returned it in understanding, once more grateful they were on such good terms.

He had didn't understand why she was initially wary of him during the sixth singularity, but upon being summoned he learned why. He had apologized profusely upon seeing her in Chaldea, but she merely waved it off; The King of Knights had seen so much of him in a new light, so she dismissed their grail war as a far different circumstance. These days, he was glad she understood him like many others: A servant who loved being helpful in many ways, like Arash.

As he quietly watched the two walk towards the room's exit, ever mindful in case they did show the need of aid, he saw Roman, David, and Da Vinci running their wa- The warning klaxons sounded in the room, making the space flood with red light. The trio stopped in surprise as a bright blue light came into existence, battling the crimson glow for domination behind him. His attention quickly snapped to view the growing tower of blue prana flames that rose between Shiva and the masters.

Many of the helpers remained ready to act, though like him, they were confused. Asterios had his axes out, but was looking in confusion at Gilgamesh who stared at the flames casually. Even Ishtar was checking herself for dust as opposed to staring at the unusual event. As he turned back to the dissipating flames, he felt the familiar presence. His heart fell cold as he began shaking, taking instinctual steps back in fear and concern as the silhouette appeared.

The cobalt flames vanished, leaving no damage to the floor in their perfectly controlled appearance. King Hassan, with hands empty at his sides, gazes around in satisfaction as Gabrielle flashed him a smile. "It's alright, everyone! He's with us from now on! Welcome to Chaldea, big guy!"

He nodded to Gabrielle as Medea's staff disappeared with a relieved sigh, though her eyes remained wide and amazed at his presence. The tall assassin paid her no heed as the alarms shut off, but merely gazed at Cursed Arm who stood rigid with hand over his heart. Nearly all in the room turned to view the lanky assassin as he remained stiff as a board, worried about what might transpire. His breath hitched, but he spoke firmly, "Founder! It is an honor to be in your-"

King Hassan scoffed. "If thou desires to keep thy head… raise it."

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

Fragment 51: Bliss in Simplicity

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

With absolute discerning precision, Cursed Arm stared through his mask at his bed. He was crouched on the floor, in total meditative serenity that only his current task could bring. His unbound hand remained in the air above its surface, ready to act at a moment's notice. Flawlessly still, he remained crouched before making his decision. Gently, his hand lowered, allowing his fingers to grasp the edge of the perfectly kept bed. It moved the folded teal blanket barely a millimeter and smoothed the new wrinkles.

"Perfect," he chuckled to himself as he stood up.

He glanced around his room, ensuring for the second time everything was as desired. The circular white rug was dead center between the walls, showcasing its pristine cleanliness from any angle. His birch dresser was spotless along with the symmetrical craft coins and souvenirs on top. The full body mirror practically glinted beside his small bookshelf and closet. Perfectly ordered clothes and meticulously wiped shelving further exemplified his cleaning thoroughness.

However, the room still looked like someone lived in it rather than a display space. Though even the teal couch and glass coffee table were unblemished, a stack of magazines was left slightly crooked. The photographs mounted on the wall, displaying several pictures with his fellow Hassans and friends, also emitted a welcoming vibe. A towel on his bathroom door was unbalanced, and his custom-made shoes were merely discarded by the door. Disregarding the small things, he confirmed all was as he desired.

Content with his task's execution, the assassin placed his free hand on the top of his lengthy tan slacks and nodded. Breakfast would be soon, but his early morning meditation routine was complete. He had been rather quick today too, leaving him some extra time to stroll over to the cafeteria to meet with Hundred Face, Serenity, and Rena; Any extra time spent with them at breakfast was well worth it.

To think, he was so worried that he would lose this chosen, relaxed life when the seventh singularity ended.

He was terrified when the founder arrived, just like the female Hassans. They knew very well about the founder's beliefs and intolerances, and here they were in Chaldea practically relishing in them. He hated indolence, yet they were enjoying themselves and living regular lives between deployments. To rely on one another in battle was to disgrace the individual strength and tradition of the order, but that's how they usually operated when deployed together.

However, King Hassan had quietly observed them out of his own curiosity. They were nervous at first, but his strict reprimands were for them to act normally so he may judge. Their anxiety was palpable, and they went about their days feeling as if they treaded on thin ice. Even Rena did a poor job reassuring Serenity in the first few days, but those had come and gone. There was no greater relief than King Hassan's surprising declaration to them that one evening.

"If anything was amiss, thy heads would have been forfeit days ago. I shall permit what mine eyes have gazed upon."

It baffled and stunned them, but they accepted the grace with fond appreciation. Still, King Hassan kept his distance from them and did not voice the reasons for his decision. None of them had bothered to ask out of fear. They would only glance in curiosity at their founder, who would walk the halls alone like a silent sentinel, neither making friends nor enemies.

Maybe one day he would join them, but until then, he seemed content in the traditional isolation of a Hassan.


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


The cafeteria, while usually calmer at breakfast, was rather lively today. It did not bother any of the Hassans at their table, who were morning persons by requirement. Their tasks often began before daybreak, and some evenings were even spent sleepless. It was a different story in Chaldea, but they definitely would not groan from lack of coffee; Cursed Arm never could understand the need for such a strange beverage.

His unmasked companions prepared their own dishes quietly. Serenity's cerulean sundress matched Rena's new doughnut pillow, which he gifted the robot to let her sit comfortably on hard surfaces. The assassin's tiny, metallic companion rocked gently in its fluffy cradle while quietly playing traditional Arabian music for them. It was most appreciated by the older female Hassan, who sat beside him in a white tank top and blue jeans. She looked more enthusiastic than usual today as she ate her scrambled eggs.

Smiling under his mask, he quietly returned to his own preparation. It was difficult working with only one arm, but Cursed Arm was more than adjusted to it. Through precise and careful movements, he carefully spread a light coating of butter on his bagel. Thanks to the weight of the plate and his practiced manipulation, it did not move to increase the difficulty. Cutting it was not much more difficult, but it was a necessity due to the permanence of his own mask. He merely hummed with the song while doing so, enjoying the comfortable silence between his companions.

A series of loud, excited chatter came from the other side of the cafeteria, but Cursed Arm didn't pay it much attention. Rena's eyes swiveled in the given direction, trying to peer over heads from its spot on the pillow. "Is it a party? A little early for a party."

"Rama seems to be in high spirits today," Serenity answered, clearly having paid attention. She picked up her fork to begin eating her bowl of honeydew melon pieces while Rena's eyes scanned for the saber curiously. "He's happy about Anishka giving him a birthday present. I guess it's today."

"Probably the Ramanavami? I think that was sometime in April," Hundred Face mused openly, making her companions look at her. "I recall overhearing Karna talking about it with Anishka a while ago. She was hoping Karna would be able to secretly retrieve the present for her. Looks like he did."

Cursed Arm looked over to the distant table, though they were buried among the sea of other heads. After becoming Hassans, celebrating one's birthday and other activities was a discarded idea. Their lives belonged to the order from then on, and it always came first. Any emotions or beliefs had to be removed, and their former identities were but memories to their new, monumental station.

Silently, he felt a little envious to be heralded and praised so highly for one's legend. Compared to the Hassans, who were wraiths as opposed to heroic spirits, the folklores and tales of the others were well celebrated. As assassins, to be renowned and accredited was detrimental; If the enemy knew who you were, that could put a Hassan in a severe disadvantage. Thus, they were always in the shadows, and but a mere whisper of concern as opposed to an exclamation of praise.

However, they had all agreed to their title, and knew fame would never follow; It was a selfless act that would be forgotten to the shadows until that fateful sixth singularity. Suddenly, they were held in high regard as faithful protectors when defending against the imposing Lion King. After reuniting in Chaldea, they were once more considered friends and wonderful allies. Though it contrasted their previous lives, they came to appreciate their place among many real heroes who were considerate to them.

It was here they found their chance to become themselves again, which was something the three of them treasured like lost dreams. He relished every minute of it, just like his companions. Serenity giggled as Rena gave a stink eye to a passing robot, who returned it. "You're making an equal amount of enemies and friends among the robots, Rena."

"That one started it first! He's dislikes I get special treatment!" Rena exclaimed happily as it waggled its eyes, making Hundred Face chuckle. "He's just envious he doesn't get to play beachball this afternoon!"

"You're still joining us for that, aren't you, Cursed Arm?" Hundred Face asked curiously. Without hesitation, the male assassin nodded.

"I should be fine to do so. Chaldea's checks for leyshift compatibility are being held right after lunch, so my voluntary work will not get in the way."

Serenity nodded and quickly ate the piece of melon before quietly pondering, "Roman and Da Vinci have been saying it's rare to have perfect compatibility. I'm curious if we'll have any new masters."

Becoming a master in a regular grail war was rather simple compared to this conflict. Chaldean masters had the rare trait requirement because of the leyshift system. Anything under perfect compatibility was a risk of death every time they underwent a leyshift, which was scheduled almost daily. Even if they did pass that, there were over a hundred servants in Chaldea. There was bound to be reluctance and judgement passed on the new masters.

Cursed Arm knew Hundred Face was among those skeptical, even before she voiced her admittance with a sigh. "I'm more concerned about who they might be. Sure, the staff treat us rather well given the conditions, but what if you gave some of them command seals?"

"Power corrupts," Cursed Arm acknowledged as he sliced up his bagel. "While not as strong as a grail granted command seal, they are influential. I pray it does not bring out true colors."

Regardless of concerns, having any additional masters was still a strategic ideal. When deployed, the system funneled the magical energy to the servants through the masters. The further a servant was from a master, the slower od was replenished by the regular connection. Losing the masters wouldn't make the servants disappear to the throne. However, the ability for most to fight effectively in the singularity, and not be forced back to Chaldea from lack of energy, would vanish unless casters temporarily anchored them to a leyline.

Serenity nodded with uncertainty, but her expression quickly brightened. "Let's not let that drag our moods down. I'm sure it will all work out fine!"

Cursed Arm and Hundred Face looked at each other and chuckled lightly. Serenity's newfound disposition was a wonderful ray of sunshine in their lives. He had been worried Gabrielle's rejection would have marred it, but that was far from the case. She only continued to look on the bright side after obtaining that wonderful talisman necklace.

"I hope you're right," Hundred Face sighed with a small smile. "I do hope our two masters have some relief from all that weight."

"They carry it well, especially Gudao," Cursed Arm stated. He was still impressed when he heard Gudao had done the first five singularities as a lone master. To think that all that time in the chaotic first months, he managed to routinely… Ah, the time! Cursed Arm quickly checked the watch on his free hand, which made Serenity and Hundred Face sigh in a mix of slight exasperation and amusement.

"You've got plenty of time… eat your bagel," the older female assassin stated.

He knew she was right, but he did like ensuring he was on point with his routine. He merely chuckled and popped the first small bagel piece into his mouth.


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


The village was slowly waking to another day, though they were all far more hopeful with recent developments.

Morning light from the windows slowly filtered into the room from the cloth, covered window. Occasional specs of dust were illuminated by the rays of light peeking through, making them appear as fairies in the dim interior. The small, mud house had barely enough room for two straw beds, a table, chairs, and basic shelving. It was large enough to be comfortable, but did not offer much more.

Rashid's small house was all he had left, but Cursed Arm would ensure it remained warm.

He swept the room as quietly as he could, reminiscing about how he used to do this for his beloved. It was a simple act she appreciated with her time spent as a potter, but it was never a bother to him; Cursed Arm loved helping. This house was where she lived, and stored more than just simple pottery and furniture. It was home to the many memories he had left of her, and the lone child that could have been his.

These facts were merely the results of his decision to become the Old Man of the Mountain which buried this possibility. It was his fault that his former life had been abandoned due to his hopeful, ambitious dream. He thought he would become famous, but here he was, merely a wraith summoned by the grail. Now, he only did all he could to protect his old village and give them all hope.

Though suspicious of them at first, he was glad the Chaldeans had arrived with honest wishes. To see the knights among them was alarming, and his people only recently considered them friends. They truly were the real knights of King Arthur, unlike those who massacred as they pleased. Though they lightened his own hardships, he wondered how they dealt with their own. It must be hell to witness yourself committing such attroc-

"…Mister Sabbah?" He froze and quickly turned to the lone, occupied bed. Rashid sat up gently, rubbing his tired eyes as he clenched the blanket. He had been the one to cover the child with a blanket after finding the child asleep on his mother's bed with tear-stained cheeks. He cursed the Lion King for leaving his beloved's son in such a condition by taking her life; Maybe he would get a chance to deliver justice to her alongside Chaldea.

As opposed to his raging thought, his normally unnerving voice came out as soft as possible. "I'm sorry… Did I disturb you, Rashid? I wished to clean your house for you."

The small child smiled gently and shook his head. "You do it every morning. It's okay."

Ah… so he knew. He thought he was being quiet about it but, he supposed someone else could have told him. "I'm sorry… Do you mind?"

"No. I like it. Thank you. Mother used to wake me like this too…" he admitted with a small smile, making far more impact than he knew on the assassin. So she really did do it in his place after he left. He had no time to dwell as Rashid looked around for his head cover. "Will you do it tomorrow too, Mister Sabbah?"

He paused in silence, knowing it probably was not to be. This small nightmare, and maybe dream, in his era was coming to an end. Though a servant, he knew what must be done later this morning. Gudao was to be brought to the Temple of Azrael, which meant…

With a sigh, he lied with the best intentions. "Yes, Rashid. I promise I will once I return. I have somewhere to go this afternoon, but I will be safe."


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


Like the staff, many servants had quickly come to appreciate the guaranteed service by the robots. Chores were done at a timely manner, including total room service for fixing beds, changing towels, and removing dust. There was occasionally a servant who wished to do certain chores themselves, such as laundry, but those were on rare occasions. Usually those few exceptions were done for something more private they didn't want anyone else possibly seeing, such as a robot returning with lingerie to someone's room.

For Cursed Arm, however, chores would always be his Nirvana.

Cleaning a room was a mix of emotions that harkened back to that former life. He had gotten a taste of it once more during the sixth singularity, but it was in Chaldea where it bloomed as a reborn rose. He had admittedly strayed from the path to relish in emotion and hobby once more, but King Hassan said nothing. If the founder was content not to pass judgement, then he would continue his tasks dutifully and appropriately…

…Even while Serenity smiled at him from the open doorway as Rena hovered inside. "Thank you, Cursed Arm."

"Anytime, Serenity. I'm forever grateful you two allow me my little indulgences," the male assassin nodded as he finished perfectly tucking in the corners of her bed.

It had been a peculiar uphill battle the servant had eventually won. Upon seeing others in Chaldea enjoying themselves, and Serenity's newfound love of painting, he had chosen to dive into his former interests. The problem was dealing with the routine robots at first, who often cleaned the room with disregard for his complaints; He really wished to do just their rooms himself.

If other servants were allowed to have their own helpful stations, such as cooking and creating furniture, then he should at least be allowed to clean certain rooms. A very amused Hundred Face had been the one to inform Gudao, since he was admittedly embarrassed about asking for the leeway. Nearly a week later, the robots received the directive that the Hassans' rooms would be cleaned by the male assassin. His struggle against the mechanical precision of the robot workforce was partially over.

They still got to do the laundry and change towels left on the floor though; If he was late or not present, they would also clean the rooms.

Serenity placed Rena's custom cushion on the sofa, letting the robot take a temporary seat as she went to the closet. Her easel sat perfectly placed within, as he always properly ensured. Gingerly, she took it out as Cursed Arm dusted the coffee table with a feather duster. Rena's servos gently whirred as her eyes watched the assassin work with the fluffy tool. Teasingly, he gently reached over with his lanky arm and dusted Rena's eyes.

"Hey!" the robot complained as Cursed Arm chuckled and Serenity giggled.

Playing with Rena was mainly Serenity's job, but the robot had wiggled its way into their little makeshift family. Their concern for each other during the singularity had easily formed the foundation for a pseudo family, where he found himself being very overprotective and extremely considerate to the younger Hassans. It was especially the case for Serenity who kept herself locked in her room for the first few weeks.

This small doting had turned into his own additional source of warm satisfaction. He had never gotten to become a family man, and he grew up as an only child. This is what he imagined it would have felt like if his life had taken another turn, but he was glad he could experience it here. If they were like younger siblings, then he'd gladly continue to watch over them on the battlefield and ensure their quality of life was that much brighter in Chaldea.

"Starting your next landscape?" Cursed Arm asked as Serenity retrieved her art portfolio carrying case.

She gently hummed and corrected, "Kinda. George and I have a friendly collaboration to make a flower art exhibit."

"I'm sure it'll be spectacular with your work in it," the male assassin chuckled, earning him an appreciative smile.

"I hope so. He's gotten much better with taking close ups though, so I need to widen my own variety," she admitted with an embarrassed blush. "Tyler, Fran, and Anton have been insisting I do incredible paintings, but I just don't want to stagnate or anything. There's always room to improve."

"I get to be in this next painting with Fran!" Rena cheered happily, but Serenity shot her a half-exasperated look.

"Just as long as you remember to hold still for me," she chastised lightly with a smile.

Finishing his last checks of Serenity's room, Cursed Arm nodded to her and himself. He scanned the room proudly, being playfully mimicked by Rena from its spot on the couch. Certain his work was finished, he sighed with satisfaction. He walked over to Serenity and gently grabbed the easel from her. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but smiled, "You'll never take no for an answer."

"I can," he grinned under his mask. "However, I have some time before I start my special task this morning, which happens to be at the beach too. What better than to help my fellow Hassan in the meantime?"

Serenity sighed, but smiled cheerily. "If you insist. I hope you don't mind a small detour, though. I want to visit Tyler and give him a picture I painted as a gift."


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


Cursed Arm stared into the glassy ocean as he helped row, relishing in the cool sea breeze that raced along its surface. It was difficult with one arm, but he managed to alternate accordingly. Beneath them, the artificial reef had grown considerably after Helena and Nitocris received some suggestions and feedback. It was practically an underwater rainbow garden that shined from below, something George hoped he could properly photograph in the future.

For now, their three-boat fleet had a different photo opportunity to complete.

Cursed Arm and Gilles moved the first rowboat, which was rather ordinary except for the amount of lighting equipment and reflection boards within its hull. Gilles, wearing his salon uniform, was ensuring no water got onto any of the equipment, and Cursed Arm's rowing was just as careful. Even the water's flat surface was barely disturbed, though that was partially because the wave machine was temporarily off by George's request.

The rider was in a similar rowboat adjacent to theirs, wearing a simple white tropical shirt and matching board shorts. He cleaned the front lens of his basic DSLR camera with a proper lens cloth as Robin rowed their boat. The orange-haired servant was just as careful in his movement, ensuring water didn't get anywhere near the equipment. Unlike Gilles who had to return to his work afterwards, Robin had no need to wear the white dress shirt with accompanying jade tie and formal pants; He chose to do so for George's client.

The archer had a small, pleased smile on his face as he looked at the third boat, which stood out from the rowboats. The pink swan boat was one of a trio of two-seaters that anyone could borrow. Today, it was being towed by Cursed Arm's boat towards the center of the makeshift ocean for their photoshoot. Though it was meant for one servant in particular, the second assassin was finishing the simple touch ups.

Elizabeth held perfectly still with an excited smile on her face as Mata Hari finished applying some makeup to the lancer. The countess' frilly pink and white ensemble was complimented by the boat's color and the resort's scenic blues. It was even coupled with a pink-striped top hat and specialized opera gloves. It was a contrast to Mata Hari's simple orange bikini and translucent waist sash, but the assassin was not part of the shoot; She was just the professional makeup artist for the dress-wearing lancer.

"Do I look cute yet? Do I?" Elizabeth asked happily, being certain not to move as Mata Hari applied the last subtle touch of blush.

She pulled her brush back and giggled. "You're always cute, Liz, but you're quite the idol now~!"

Elizabeth barely contained her enthusiastic cheer, which was quickly followed by happy humming. Thankfully, her humming didn't have anywhere near the same power as her singing; Cursed Arm quietly sighed in relief as Gilles chuckled with an agreeing nod. He stopped rowing as they reached the chosen point, making Elizabeth's smile grow even wider.

"Ready for your first album cover shoot, Miss Bathory?" George asked as Mata Hari quickly detached the tow cable from the swan boat.

Elizabeth nodded her head enthusiastically, though she made sure it didn't shift her pink-striped top hat too much. She beamed towards Robin happily, "Thank you, producer! I'm going to shine so much brighter than Nero with all your help! Thank you for believing in me!"

"Sure thing, Liz," Robin replied with a slightly exasperated sigh.

As Robin pulled their boat closer to transfer Mata Hari and her makeup kit over, Cursed Arm looked between the producer and idol curiously. Their closer friendship had become the fond talk among some female servants after they both returned injured. Elizabeth's singing was still harsh on the ears, as was Nero's, but that didn't stop Robin from suddenly taking his role as producer seriously. Despite his belief about her music, he had recently endeavored to ensure Elizabeth remained happy and was guided properly; Whatever happened during the seventh singularity to change the archer's perspective, Cursed Arm didn't know.

From what he was aware of, the lancer only believed she was making newfound headway with her second life. She only perceived she finally had full support in getting what she wanted while simultaneously making up for her own atrocities. Unlike him, who relished the simple life, her ambitious goals of singing stardom were well known to the residents. He wondered if she would have tried to do this in another war, but the circumstances likely meant it couldn't be possible. In this curious facility, it was just another simple decision rather than a long trek.

Thanks to Cursed Arm's desires to help wherever needed, here he was, assisting others in helping the lancer along a new path for herself. She leaned over the side of her swan boat and quickly pecked Robin on the cheek. He groaned as she hugged him, while George laughed and Mata Hari cooed, but there was a tiny smile as he gently patted her frilly back. Even if the archer's situation wasn't ideal, the famed sneak-thief still looked satisfied from helping someone, whether they asked for it or not.

"Alright, Liz. Don't smear your makeup now," Robin noted as the lancer quickly repositioned herself in her boat. His smirk increased. "We won't let Nero pull ahead of you."

She nodded enthusiastically as Cursed Arm carefully undid the bandages on his lengthy appendage. Only a brief glance was given from the others, who had grown used to seeing the unusually, lengthy appendage, which was ridiculous to use for mundane tasks with limited space. As Gilles used an oar to carefully hold their boat in position, the male assassin gingerly reached over with the lengthy arm to lightly grasp Swan Boat.

"A little more to the left, if you please, Cursed Arm," George asked as he looked down his small camera's viewfinder.

Never before had he thought this demonic arm of his would be used for such an unusual purpose. The casters would have been better at subtly moving a boat, but the assassin did love volunteering. It led him to learn a wide variety of skills, techniques, and information on a wide array of subjects. Becoming an assistant for a cameraman was going to be his newest.

Cursed Arm deciphered the positioning with his keen intuition, realizing roughly what George was going for. He angled the boat appropriately which placed the Swan Boat on a perfectly still ocean with a gorgeous backdrop. Small islands on the illusionary horizon barely marred the illusion that she was adrift in the mirrored sea of clouds. It added a magical affect to the picture, which was likely what the rider was aiming to capture this morning.

"Perfect," George nodded as Elizabeth's enthusiasm threatened to spill from her jittery hands. Mata Hari's friendly coaxing from their boat encouraged it, but that was the whole idea as Cursed Arm released his hold. George began snapping away as Elizabeth kept a natural smile and laugh through his actions. He quickly checked the back of his camera and hummed in thought.

"Would you and Gilles mind grabbing bounce boards? They're the white boards in the boat. I just need a bit more illumination on Miss Bathory."

Looking at the boards between them, Cursed Arm gently picked one up with his regular arm. Understanding why they were called that, he lifted the reflector into the air and angled it appropriately. Gilles followed his example as they tried to bounce light onto the darker parts on Elizabeth which were shadowed by her hat. After a minute of repositioning and George's coaching, they finally found the sweet spot and held still.

"Ah, this is even better. Thank you, gentlemen! Now smile, Miss Idol! Think of your future fans!" George praised, making the cheery Elizabeth spontaneously move between several poses and happy expressions. Cursed Arm had to admit, even with her tail and wings, she was actually pulling off the cute aspect fairly well. At least she was looking great as an idol; She just needed to sound angelic at this point, but he had no idea how anyone would solve that issue.

"After this, maybe I can give all of you a private concert to hear my new song!" Elizabeth offered with a grin and a wink as she hugged the swan's neck as an experimental pose.

She didn't see Cursed Arm, Gilles, or George slightly shudder. Thankfully, she only saw Robin and Mata Hari offer small smiles instead, which only made her giggle with hope.


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


Today was one of those busier days where he helped where he could. Thankfully, all of it was clustered in the first half of his day, leaving the latter part of his schedule free to enjoy himself; He enjoyed these days anyway, it was just a matter of how. Currently, it was as simple assistance and extra hands for the master checks.

He sat at one of the many tables in Da Vinci's workshop, quietly preparing the translucent slates that Da Vinci's newest invention used. He could not fathom how her scanner worked, but every inserted slate would produce the results on its surface after a few moments. His simple task was to manage the slates and then archive the results, which was far easier than helping the inventor reorganize her workshop earlier. He would help her reorganize it again after their task was done.

His job was so menial he honestly wasn't necessary, but he was one of the few servants who didn't mind doing legwork to give the masters a break. It also saved the two scanning casters a bit of time and ensured this wouldn't drag on further than it had to at least. The only requirement was that any servant in the room at the time needed to be in battle attire. This would serve as a reminder to potential masters that this was a serious promotion; Becoming a master meant being on the frontline of the war for humanity's future.

There were only a few other servants present to help showcase that idea besides himself. Gilgamesh stood by the masters at one table with a stoic but judging gaze that unnerved the assassin. Da Vinci stood beside Roman, who looked exceptionally sharp in his uniform today, as she completed each scan. Save for Mashu and Scathach, who were quietly chatting at another table, the room felt very vacant since most of the staff completed their checks.

At least until Tyler yelled, making Gilgamesh's eye twitch in irritation as his voice echoed in the room. "I'm a master! Woo! I knew it!"

Da Vinci giggled as Roman shook his head. "…Did you really think that was going to sway the result?"

"I mean, did it hurt to try?" the uniformed employee asked with a small smile and crossed arms. The acting director rolled his eyes as Da Vinci laughed. Gabrielle chuckled while Gilgamesh shook his head.

Da Vinci looked at her machine, which resembled a beefy tablet. It was connected by a long cord to a scanner that resembled a handheld spotlight, which was held in her opposite hand. A tiny bulb on top of the tablet flashed and beeped. Da Vinci's eyes widened momentarily, making Cursed Arm raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Roman blinked in curiosity as he leaned in-

"Wow, Tyler. Negative seven percent? I didn't think it was possible to have a negative result in compatibility," Da Vinci mused as the employee's face faltered. He glared lightly at the chuckling female master as Da Vinci turned the tablet around to show him. "It explains why you get a headache when you're near the Deployment Room when it activates though. I'll just have to schedule you for a medical examination later to ensure you're not being too influenced."

Though he clicked his tongue in mild disappointment, he shrugged and began walking away. "Ah well… I was hoping I wouldn't be one anyway. I think I'd be a terrible master, but thanks, boss! Hope I don't have brain damage either!"

The employee walked towards the door as the translucent data slate was ejected from the scanner. She handed it to Cursed Arm, who quickly attached the slate by an appropriate cable. He waited for it to accept the information properly before disconnecting the slate and placing it in an appropriately labelled box beneath the table. The boxes were separated by percentages, but he figured under ten percent would be fine for Chaldea's only negative number. Upon doing so, he did as he was taught by Mashu and saved the copied slate as a new file.

There were only a dozen more employees remaining, but none had qualified. As he handed Da Vinci another clean slate, he glanced over the summarized results on a separate tab. The closest possibility of a master was Da Vinci's other personal staff, Anton, who had a remarkably high rating of ninety-three percent. That was still a seven percent chance of death upon leyshifting, which was unacceptable. By the looks of it, no one was going to be a master at this rate.

Da Vinci raised her the scanning attachment to bathe the employee in green light. Digitized squared caressed the individual as the machine made quiet beeps in its ongoing process. Based on the individual's relaxed closed eyes, there was never any pain as the device detected all the variables with an unexplained procedure; Form what Cursed Arm could see, she was just painting the employee with a strange flashlight. Completing the scan would take a minute or two, but had always resulted in the same answer.

The current Magecraft employee opened his eyes as the tiny bulb flashed and beeped. Roman peeked at the result as Da Vinci sighed, "Sixty percent."

With a slight huff, the mage simply remained quiet, nodded, and shrugged before walked towards the door. Truth be told, that was one of the individuals many were secretly hoping wouldn't be compatible. Though that mage had become far more civil with time, he still had an ambition and grudge streak a mile long. No one present back then, staff or servant, had forgotten he was the one who tampered with that emotion-amplifying potion that sent Arturia into a chaotic wrath.

Cursed Arm began entering the next data as he felt another servant enter the room. He looked up curiously to see Rama entering with a smile, tugging along the leyshift employee he was friends with. Anishka looked a little uncertain about the battle-clad servant pulling her by her specialized uniform's sleeve, but she did not fight back either; He was one of her religion's deities after all. They paused in the empty space before the cluster of tables as Da Vinci handled the next employee.

"Hi Annie~!" Gabrielle greeted as she skipped over to her friend. The Indian woman smiled and nodded back.

"Hi, Gabby. I would've come earlier, but Rama wished to take his time opening gifts," the dark-haired woman admitted as she fiddled with the fingers on her free hand. "The others will be here shortly."

"I just thought I'd get it over for Anishka faster to make up for it! No need in being any tardier!" Rama stated proudly as Gabrielle giggled.

"Well, good luck to you! So far, it's still just Gudao and I," the female master admitted as Da Vinci's scanner beeped red again.

"Thirty six percent. Sorry, Samantha. It seems no one is getting the jackpot today," Roman offered with a small, apologetic smile. The employee only giggled and waved it off.

"That's fine… Back to your front desk I go," the employee joked, making Da Vinci and Roman chuckle.

After she exited Da Vinci's workshop, Roman grumbled to himself and scratched the back of his head. "I guess that's not an additional reason for David to playfully flirt with her."

"He doesn't mean any harm," Da Vinci shot back as Rama and Anishka walked up to them. She handed Cursed Arm the data slate while mumbling to herself quietly, "At least he has enough guts to flirt with someone even a little bit interested…"

"Huh? Did you say something Da Vinci?" Roman asked in confusion as he held the scanning device. Cursed Arm's eyes followed the cord between Roman and Da Vinci, drawing the unseen connection the acting director couldn't seem to fathom. Cursed Arm chuckled as Da Vinci rolled her eyes.

"Maybe in time," Cursed Arm offered, further confusing Roman as the two of them laughed. He handed her a new data slate and began entering the employee's data.

He glanced over at Rama and Anishka happily chatting while Roman and Da Vinci bickered. He quickly looked to Gudao and Gilgamesh at their table as Mashu and Scathach quietly laughed. Even the newly appeared employees in the open doorway were happily chatting to one another. Cursed Arm should have felt alone, but he didn't.

The assassin was used to observing and feeling separate, since it was part of his creed. However, he could never feel alone or longing in Chaldea. Among so much pleasant conversations, he only felt privileged to be immersed in this. No longer was he in the shadows looking in as he searched for his target, but part of the heroic picture itself. It was a sense of satisfaction that helped push him to volunteer whenever it was needed.

Da Vinci raised the scanner to Anishka as Gabrielle took a spot beside him to glance at the data. He glanced over, noting the female master clicking her tongue as she looked over the percentages. The assassin patted her on the back gently with his free hand, making her giggle as she looked up at him. "I was hoping for someone to share all the paperwork with."

"And some used to say I was evil?" Cursed Arm jested, making both of them laugh.

Their laughing stopped as Da Vinci gasped. Cursed Arm looked to the slate, noting the tiny bulb was flashing blue. Anishka looked uncertainly between Chaldea's two heads as Gilgamesh slowly unfolded his arms. Rama was barely containing his excitement, so much so that he was already trying to sneak a peek at the inventor's special tablet. The employees had fallen silent as Da Vinci slowly turned the tablet around for them to see.

"Miss Anishka Sharma… looks like I need to find a replacement for you in the control room," Da Vinci began as Cursed Arm spotted the three digit number on the tablet's screen. Anishka slowly raised her hands to cover her mouth as Gabrielle practically pounced on her friend with a hug. "You meet the biggest requirement to become Chaldea's fiftieth master."

"Anishka! This is great! This is one of the best birthday presents you could give me!" Rama cried out happily as attempted to curb his enthusiasm while standing before her; It was failing miserably. She stared at him in confusion while Gabrielle finally released her hug. "A disciple! I joked about you becoming my disciple, but it's definitely going to happen now! I must train you to become a formidable master! No buts! Ohhh! Now I really can't wait to introduce you to my wife! And we should go tell your father!"

"I-I-" Anishka stuttered, still reeling from the surprise. Gilgamesh's light chuckle caused her to stop as Cursed Arm turned to the approaching, golden archer.

"See to it that you do, Rama," Gilgamesh practically ordered, though the saber didn't look fazed. "I don't expect a miracle, but you know very well what becoming a master means since you helped operate the leyshift. This is no easy burden to bear… Do you think you are prepared for the struggle ahead?"

After a few seconds of hesitation, she nodded firmly. Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, clearly mulling over the tiny delay, but he said nothing and apparently let it slide. Gabrielle and Rama quickly began reassuring the overwhelmed woman as Cursed Arm took the slate from Da Vinci. Behind the olive-skinned employee, her little group were giving her stares mixed with envy and joy as they waited for their turn to congratulate her.

Judging by the enthusiastic Rama, that might be a bit longer than expected.


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


"Then fate has decreed to grant Chaldea only a sole extra contractor?"

"Yes, Founder. That is correct," Cursed Arm responded before waving to the female Hassans on the beach with his bandaged arm; The other currently held his favorite milkshake.

King Hassan nodded subtly. "Then the tides may change little to this slither of fortune. Our vigilance must remain."

The two male assassins stood at the railing of the boardwalk, overlooking the afternoon beach. King Hassan had been standing there quietly observing the other Hassans when he arrived. Cursed Arm had cautiously approached, wary of potentially offending the founder in an unseen way. Instead, he was beckoned over by the armored figure while he continued to stand as a silent sentinel.

Their conversation had been short and to the point, as always. King Hassan only spoke as much as necessary, and it was when he had a lot to say that one must be worried. Thankfully, none of the Hassans had received any reprimand from him, by some unseen luck or grace. It baffled him as he quietly watched over the playing girls in the distance.

Rena hovered to bounce a beachball to its dear friend before it touched the sand. Serenity, in a frilly blue and black bikini she loved, knocked it back to her fellow assassin. The color combination was matched by Hundred Face's personal one piece, which was designed more for utility with its sleek, competitive design. They laughed as they tried to keep the beachball in the air, which was just a smaller warmup for later when Hundred Face brought in more of her manifested personalities for a larger game.

He should be joining them soon, but he didn't wish to just leave the founder on such a plain note. Perhaps he could, since the large assassin merely watched over them curiously like he always did as they went about their business. Cursed Arm's gaze switched subtly between the first Old Man of the Mountain and the playing girls at the bea-

"If thou wishes to speak, I permit thee." Cursed Arm's felt a shiver roll through him; Apparently the glances weren't subtle enough.

"Founder…" Cursed Arm began quietly as he watched the beach ball bounced off Rena's eyes. "I do not wish to be rude, but I'm afraid I do not understand… To be in your presence, means to forfeit our lives. We have all lead to degradation by your judgement in our previous lives… Do we not still embody that?"

Slowly, King Hassan turned to Cursed Arm, making him shiver under his mighty gaze. The warm, inviting beach felt that much colder under his gaze, but he found he had nothing to fear. "…Even if these sights try mine patience, all have presented evidence of thy worth in Camelot, especially thou."

It was surprising to hear him acknowledge them for their actions. The founder had chosen to save him from his own demon, and even saw fit to grant him one last glance of Rashid. He would never forget that, but he never thought to relate it to this current consideration from the founder. "Though one has strayed from the creed and relished in emotions once more, Chaldea is not Alamut. Mine blade shall not taste of your flesh a second time, for the evening bell rests silent. These respites are to be overlooked."

Cursed Arm stared in total confusion as King Hassan faced the playing girls with a calm demeanor. "As the first, tolerance is not bared to any who strays from dedication to thy duty. When the battle calls and we are sent forth, mine eyes shall overlook these minor transgressions since you fight hard for the contractors. Do I not fight beside other heroes as thou? To claim thy heads for doing so would be hypocrisy in trying times. We fight in unique circumstances and humanity requires all the aid that may be provided, thus leniency shall be granted."

It would also go against the unspoken rules in Chaldea about attacking another servant, but the founder wouldn't be one to care about that. He was a powerful entity who once held the position of Grand Servant, but he did forgo that title to aid Chaldea. He chose to come here, and apparently feels content to silently observe from the sidelines while waiting for leyshifts. The masters could only deploy once a day at most without burning precious resources, and the founder likely acknowledged this; There was a difference between laziness and strategic concern.

With all that in mind, it made sense he wasn't treating this like his own sect. He's merely letting them run it as necessary while providing the masters with a strong ally. Still, he felt there was more to his reasoning, but the founder merely kept it to himself; There was no urgency or need to let them know. Acknowledging that, Cursed Arm would just count his blessings and not press for the deeper truth, since they were simply allowed to live the lives they were given.

"…Thank you, founder, for your unwarranted kindness. It will never be forgotten."

"Of course not," he replied firmly, sending the subtle warning easily.

Regardless, he still felt like he should do something for the first. It may have been his family man habits and wishes kicking in, but he did want King Hassan to feel appreciated too. Some simple thanks wasn't enough, though trying to get him to join the beach play session would likely be pushing the bounds. As he sipped on his milkshake, he would have to ponder the possibilities later after spending ti-

"In exchange for the answer, I present a question, Cursed Arm," King Hassan rumbled. The smaller assassin looked at the armored founder, whose gaze remained focused… on his drink? "That food concoction you consume. What is it?"

Cursed Arm lifted it without hesitation. "It's a blueberry milkshake. The kitchen staff are careful about what might be against our beliefs, so they make this milkshake for me specifically from properly checked ingredients."

"Milkshake…" King Hassan mumbled as he stared at the drink.

Seeing that the larger assassin did not shift his gaze, Cursed Arm impulsively offered the small drink to him. "…Would you like to try, Founder? I can always get another."

The founder stared at the cup before slowly taking it to examine. Cursed Arm was aware he never ordered any clothing or consumed any food, even though the masters insisted it was alright. Maybe he was actually considering-

Cursed Arm's eyes widened slightly as King Hassan took a tentative sip from the straw. It was very brief, but the large assassin looked back down at the drink. Cursed Arm watched with growing curiosity, as did the two girls who paused their game in surprise; King Hassan holding a milkshake cup with swirly straw was a peculiar sight. To Cursed Arm's surprise and delight, King Hassan took another, longer sip from the milkshake.

Perhaps the stern founder would come just a bit closer to them in time.


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


After a relaxing remainder of the surprising day, Cursed Arm found himself in Club Cove after Serenity invited him and Hundred Face to a small post-dinner game night. The group would mostly consist of Serenity's grail war friends, but that hardly bothered him. He was on fair terms with all, but great friends with Arash. While the male assassin accepted, the older female Hassan seemed to have a nighttime, bare fist sparring session with Li Shuwen already planned. That left him as the sole accepter from all the servants asked to join.

With the founder's subtle admission that they may do as they pleased, he felt a new wave of vigor. A sudden urge to find other ways to enrich his simple life grew, which led him to accepting this invitation. Though he had rarely played board and card games in Chaldea, they did tend to bring people together for merry entertainment. There were many things he could still try, but this would merely be the first.

"Paracelsus! I shall forgo my Egyptian wine for some of that mixed drink!" Ozymandias' voice boomed across the room.

"Sure thing, Sun King," the caster replied back, causing a few chuckles.

Paracelsus was currently behind the bar mixing more drinks with Lex. His blue polo was flawlessly tucked into his khakis as it straddled the line of prim and casual with his ponytail. His smooth motions caught their attention from time to time as he did a few bar flair tricks to practice. They were not any of his famous show stoppers, but they were enough to earn occasional clapping from the large table.

The large, rounded booth had plenty of room to house the eight servants when Paracelsus returned. The servants sat on the plush seats as Serenity and Rena dealt out the cards for the next round. Soft nightclub lighting, that occasionally shifted in hue, made Serenity's cerulean sundress resemble a rainbow. Upon finishing dealing out the cards, she sat down once more between Brynhildr and Jekyll as the blonde assassin removed his cravat and popped the collar on his classic white dress shirt.

The Valkyrie in a teal strapless was making a quiet, light hearted conversation with Arthur beside her. Occasionally she would make a teasing comment about how him and Arash, who sat on his other side, wore the same plain black shirt; Neither minded at all. Beside Jekyll, Ozymandias was loudly making chatter to him in his open front by contrast, wearing a collared black shirt that showcased his abs and golden necklace. He never lost a bit of his high-spirited, haughty shine even after Gilgamesh's failed attempt at agreed humiliation.

Among the well-knit group, Cursed Arm first felt like he was intruding until they welcomed him openly; He had Arash to thank for easily breaking that initial ice. They'd worked together for months during the sixth singularity, and the assassin was grateful the archer received that memorial essence a while ago. Then again, it was really difficult not to feel appreciated with the energetic hero around, fond memories or not. He was honestly more hesitant getting used to Ozymandias as an ally.

Rena plopped the cards down in front of him in order. There was a lone white card, left face down while two more black cards joined it. The group had agreed to streamline how the game was played after the first trial round to save time, but the rules were easy enough to understand. While simplistic at best, the creativity and imagination of the players made for the true difficulty of the game, which he knew he would enjoy based on its unique design.

"So I heard you got King Hassan to drink a milkshake. Quite the achievement," Arash complimented as he quietly eyed his facedown cards.

"And I didn't need to lose my head to do it," Cursed Arm quipped back, making Serenity laugh somewhat nervously. Ozymandias laughed far louder as Paracelsus sat down beside him with the cups and drinks. He gave Cursed Arm a blueberry milkshake, which he took graciously with a quick nod. He began passing the alcoholic drinks to the others, but gave Serenity and Arash a tasty fruit punch.

"Sorry about that," Paracelsus spoke as he sat down. "Shall we get the real game started?"

"Of course! Let the greatest fights commence from here on! I look forward to winning this round with my chosen warrior!" Ozymandias proclaimed as Arthur playfully shook his head.

"My champion may have something to say about that, Ozymandias," he retorted with a friendly, challenging stare. "But alas, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"Flip the cards~!" Rena ordered in a chipper tone as the servants and robot all turned their hands over. After a few seconds of silence, the room was filled with laughter from all of the present servants. Brynhildr covered one hand with her mouth to suppress her chuckles, but it quickly grew out of control as she read her cards again. Cursed Arm was even having trouble holding himself together.

The card game they played was unique and only found yesterday by Tyler. It was stored in an unmarked cardboard box he thought were extra clothes, likely as a way to hopefully sneak it past the security screening. It had worked, even if he forgot its existence due to being overworked. Now everyone had access to an unusual, yet very appropriate game for servants to play. Combining imagination, combat intuition, and concept interpretation, this card game only broadened Cursed Arm's curiosity over the other modern group entertainment he had yet to see.

Superfight was an immediate hit for all of them, and almost certain to become a Chaldean favorite.

"Arash, would you like to go first?" Serenity asked as she subdued her own giggle fit.

With a nod, he looked to Cursed Arm since he would be the first opponent by their chosen rules. They glared at each other playfully, making the others laugh as Arash pointed to his cards. "You're fighting Heracles, Cursed Arm! Heracles may only be armed with a machete, but he is more than a match for anything your champion can take! Even if he's like ours, who lacks the twelve labors, his strength as a berserker is sure to overpower your raccoon!"

True. He had drawn a raccoon for a champion, but that was not about to stop him. "Ah, but Arash! My raccoon can only be killed by a shot to the head. Since Heracles does not have his bow, I have a small Achilles without a heel! He is invulnerable to anything Heracles can muster, especially because your champion has to watch twelve kids on leashes. Heracles would never abandon the children to properly fight my raccoon!"

Arash hesitated as the others laughed. Cursed Arm knew he had proven his edge, but Arash had yet to manipulate the assassin's weakness card. The archer smirked and chuckled, "But how do you expect the raccoon to fight Heracles when it's afraid of its own shadow? It's running in fear from something that's always attached to itself, therefore it cannot fight properly!"

"Then I will bide my time and challenge Heracles at night," Cursed Arm countered with a chuckle of his own. "My raccoon is still invincible! It merely needs the right conditions to take on Heracles!"

Though Arash was trying to formulate a counter play, Rena's internal buzzer rang. "Time's up! Paracelsus is your next challenger!"

To the amusement of the rest of the group, the caster merely stared at his cards with a flabbergasted expression. He slowly looked to Arash, and with an incredulous stare asked, "…How am I supposed to win? I have an English Longbowman with a venomous bite but no depth perception!"

The table's roaring laughter was his only answer.