Chapter 25: Audience

The interior chamber was warm, but not overbearingly so. Were it not for the terrific presence of the lone figure in the room, one might have called the space comfortable. Even without windows, a bright luminescence filled the room with its golden glow while braziers added their flickering contribution. A dozen columns lined the main pathway, each of which were richly painted with scenes of warfare and conquest. The walls, too, were covered completely in decorative hieroglyphs that Alex had no hope of understanding. At the far end of the pathway, atop a steep set of stairs, sat a carved throne plated in gold and lined with lapis lazuli. The throne was occupied by a man who, like the throne beneath him, appeared to be carved from stone. He sat with a relaxed poise and grace that lent to the appearance that he was one with his throne, but this would be a misunderstanding of the relationship. The man did not mold himself to the throne, the stone itself bent to his will and desire. The man humbled the very earth itself with his presence, and the earth was grateful.

All aspects of the interior, from the carpet beneath his feet to the columns lining the way all served to lead any wandering eyes inevitably to the throne. There was no way to avoid him, for this space was his and his alone. The only recognition that the figure gave to Alex's entry was a single glance from those golden irises. Yet in here, even those blazed with an intensity that Alex had yet to experience. The weight behind them was titanic, and he had to avert his gaze for fear of his own sight being burned out. His heart snagged in his throat as he slowly approached the throne, so impressive was the array that even breathing became labored.

Alex had always understood the man to be a powerful and impressive one, he had seen his deeds first-hand, after all. But until this moment, he had always seemed approachable, in some form or another. That was no longer the case. Alex felt a sense of wrongness in his own presence, that each step carried him closer and closer to a place where he should not belong. The figure above him had long eclipsed the realm of ordinary men and ascended to a place where few dared to tread. He was bright and radiant, dangerous and unavoidable, power perfected and personified.

His name is Ozymandias, King of Kings.

Alex was fifteen feet from the base of the stone steps that led to the man himself, when a singular finger was raised and then lowered as quickly as it had moved. He stopped his progression automatically, without any input from his own nervous system. There was only silence, though Alex was sure that the Pharaoh could hear the pounding of his heart through his chest. What was he supposed to do now? The question swam through his head as the seconds ticked by. Normally, one would show deference to royalty, but he had rarely done so in all of their interactions preceding this one. That fact alone unnerved him greatly, for he began to wonder if he had made a grave error in his attitude.

The moment before the silence became oppressive, the Pharaoh addressed him,

"I see you are awestruck by the majesty of my Ramesseum, that is good. I shall permit it. Bask in the glory of my works, know that it was I that raised them from nothing to become that which the gods themselves envy!"

He announced this with confident arrogance, the kind that comes only from those who are completely and utterly sure of themselves. Since Alex had no desire to question where that kind of confidence originated from, he instead forced himself to relax. He was in no danger here, or so he told himself. Figuring that deceptive tactics would be utterly useless, he decided that honesty would be the best policy. He took a quiet breath and put on his best smile as he looked up to where the Pharaoh reclined,

"Awestruck is certainly one word for it. In all fairness, I'm at a loss for words. It's as though I've been thrown back in time…"

The Pharaoh gave a singular nod, neither interested or disinterested in what Alex had to say. He wasn't ignoring Alex, yet. This didn't dissuade Alex, at least, not yet.

"I don't presume that it would be too much to assume that this magnificent complex is your second Noble Phantasm? The one that you mentioned not so long ago?"

"Of course. It is good to know that your eyes and brain communicate effectively."

There was just the barest hint of indifference in the curt reply, but it was obvious enough that Alex was able to pick up on it. It wouldn't be too long before the Pharaoh got bored, which Alex wanted to try and avoid to the best of his ability. It was always difficult to read Ozymandias' moods, which made moments like these all the more nerve-wracking for Alex. There was much he wanted to ask of the Pharaoh, so he hoped to keep his interest long enough to voice them,

"I can sense that these walls contain massive amounts of magical energy, in fact, the whole place practically radiates the stuff. Disregarding the fact that this place is huge, and glows, isn't this like putting out a beacon for other Servants to attack here?"

"Correct."

The sudden and direct answer threw Alex slightly and goaded him into his next question, "You, want them to attack here? But why? Sure, this complex is impressive, but what can it do for you?"

"Everything."

"E-everything? What does that even mean?"

"Do you lack imagination? Or is that simply your ignorance speaking? In either case, the truth remains despite your lack of comprehension."

Alex was at a loss for words. For all the pomp and circumstance that brought him here, Ozymandias seemed thoroughly disinterested in his existence, much less his presence. He began to fear the worst. But then the Pharaoh shifted in his seat, a slight and near imperceptible movement that caught Alex's attention. The Sun King looked upon him with intent and addressed him,

"This conversation has grown stale. Therefore, I shall be the one to present an opportunity to you. Be grateful."

As tenuous as his position was, voicing anything that resembled a query was out of the question, so he decided to play it safe and nod his gratitude. The corner of the Pharaoh's mouth twitched upwards in an amused gesture as he delivered his opportunity,

"How would you like to win this War, right now?"

The idea was so absurd, so impossibly outlandish that Alex was mentally paralyzed by the mere thought that everything could be ended so quickly. But then again, Alex was speaking with no ordinary being. Had anyone, or anything, suggested it he would have dismissed their claims without a second thought. But he had been around the Pharaoh long enough to know that while the man certainly boasted about many things, he had never known him to lack the ability to back up his claims with power. If he was saying that he could end the Holy Grail War, then he could.

That terrified him. He had fought hard to get this far, shedding more blood than he ever expected to and facing down fears that he would wish upon nobody. And now, the tantalizing option to simply end it all hung before him. It was tempting, without a doubt he briefly considered accepting the offer off-hand. But he forced himself to consider the situation more carefully. Something about the offer didn't sit quite right with him. If nothing else, nobody, especially a man of such power as Ozymandias would offer such a thing for free. And so, after some time in contemplative silence, he voiced his concerns,

"Would you mind elaborating? Exactly what do you mean when you say that the War could be won immediately?"

A knowing smirk crawled up the side of the Pharaoh's face as a terrifying light gleamed in his eyes, "It is simple. I will annihilate the city."

The words crossed his lips with such ease that one might think he was ordering breakfast. The raw dismissal of the implications rocked Alex to his core. There was no way this could be genuine. But it was. He knew, just by the nature of the speaker, that this was no jest or ruse. If he said the word, the Pharaoh would follow through, and everything would be over. The lives of nearly ten million people suddenly hung in the balance, dangling precariously over the abyss and held aloft only by his word. This terrible burden pressed down upon his shoulders with an unimaginable weight, crashing down around him as if the sky itself was falling all around him. He very nearly became violently ill.

A horror-filled whisper issued from his lips, "W-why?" It was all he could muster amidst a tumult of jumbled absurdities and protests that confused his spiraling mind all the further. He so desperately wanted this to be some kind of joke, that in just a few seconds, Ozymandias would laugh at him for taking this absurdity far too seriously. But the laughter never came. Instead, he heard the Pharaoh speak in a voice that felt bereft of warmth that chilled the air around him,

"Why? What an absurd thing to say. Surely, even you must realize that all remaining Servants reside within that city. Even that hedonistic emperor of Rome is there at this moment. In a singular strike, you would be the last one standing. This is a perfect opportunity, for that woman you are always with is currently safe. You would have your victory, and her life would be spared. Would that not be agreeable? Is that not the point of your involvement?"

Was that it? Was that his purpose summarized in a single, brutal sentence? How could it be? He rebelled against the idea, fueled by disgust that he could ever possibly entertain such an absurd method. In unison, the disparate parts assembled and spoke out in concert as he found his voice,

"No…no it isn't! I won't accept that, not now, not ever! There's no way anyone would agree to something so…so heinous! How could you even suggest such a terrible thing? I thought you were supposed to be a king!"

By the end of his outburst, he was near to shouting at the stone-like figure above him. As his final words echoed through the throne room, the accused sat silently, unmoved by the display before him. As for the accuser, he stood defiant, chest heaving from the rush of emotion that filled his vessel. The two stared each other down, one with anger and the other with mild bemusement. Moments stretched into moments; time meant little here, only intent carried any weight.

And then the Pharaoh smiled. A wide, gleaming grin overtook his face as his body shook as he attempted to resist the room-shaking laugh that erupted from his belly. He laughed and he laughed, doubling over on his throne and forgoing all pretense of composure. The halls rang with peals of thunderous laughter for what felt like forever, until Ozymandias finally regained a sense of himself. He continued to chuckle as he repositioned himself atop his throne, his eyes glinting with amusement,

"Heh haha…I have not, hahaha, laughed like that in quite some time! I am tempted to offer my thanks for your efforts in that regard! But then again," and the mirth emptied from his eyes, "it occurs to me that you were actually being quite serious. If that truly is the case, then perhaps I need to make all things clear. I say such things because I am king. It is my right, my privilege and my duty to make such statements. For I am blessed of the Sun, I am the pinnacle through which humans can see the wonders of the heavens, I am the conduit by which the gods speak. All humans owe fealty to me, all lives are in my care, all things meant to spread my glory. Knowing all of this, knowing that you could truly never convince me otherwise, would you still refuse to accept my proposal?"

"I refuse. There's no way I could ever want that." He knew that wavering now would only serve to add to Ozymandias' already mercurial nature. He wasn't sure of many things, but he was sure of his answer. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Pharaoh seemed to expect the nature of his answer. What was strangest to Alex was that he did not question his reasoning and just accepted his word as genuine. Instead, he followed with a question that Alex had been asking himself for quite some time,

"Well then, what do you want?"

It was amazing how such a brief statement could paralyze the mind. A question such as the one spoken should be able to be answered in the span of a single breath, so long as the questioned fully understands what is being asked. The simplest of things can be the most terrifying to face, and it was this simplicity that Alex had to face down. What an excellent question. What did he want?

He didn't know. That was the long and short of it, he had no idea. There was a time, which felt like an age ago, where he would have answered confidently and immediately. But he was no longer confident, not his desires and not even in himself. With each passing day, the future grew more and more uncertain. He was no longer confident that he could bear such a weight.

But he had to, of this he was confident. Whatever his reasons or motivations for setting off on this journey, he had made it this far for a reason. So then, what did he want? The simplest things are often the most complex, requiring one to carefully consider all possibilities that the question might possibly pose before arriving at a satisfactory answer.

And yet he knew what he wanted, at least in part. Simple questions sometimes only require equally simple answers. Overthinking in the situation in which he found himself would not be wise, not that he necessarily considered that aspect. Instead, he bared the simplest desire that he had. The one thing that, at its core, drove him forward towards whatever end awaited him,

"I want to win. I don't just want to survive; I want to win. I want to win by my own hand, with my own strength. I want a victory that I can be proud of! I want to win this War!"

The weight lifted from his chest as he declared his desire. Even though it was simple and selfish, there was no denying that it was his. Even so, he was a little nervous that Ozymandias wouldn't accept it, that it would be too small or narrow-minded. And so, he was surprised when a pleasantly exasperated expression came over the Pharaoh,

"It was about time that you were honest with yourself. Even I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come to that realization on your own. It is reassuring to know that you are not entirely inept." Alex grimaced slightly, not sure if he was being praised or insulted. Knowing Ozymandias as he did, it was probably both in equal measure. But he was not done quite yet, as his crooked staff appeared in his right hand he looked down upon Alex,

"You have spoken your desire, and have not been found wanting. But do you possess the will to attain it? Without strength of body or mind, your desires will remain thus! A king's conviction must be absolute, he can never waver! Therefore! I shall confirm your will for myself!"

In one, fluid motion Ozymandias stood from his golden throne and pounded the staff once against the stone dais. A tremor shook the pyramid as a wave of magical energy pulsed throughout, the hieroglyphs and carvings glowing as energy filled the room. The braziers roared to life as the flame within them overflowed and spilled from their bounds, forming into feminine figures with glowing coals for eyes and fiery manes coursing down their backs.

Alex was suddenly surrounded by four of these efreeti. His brain told him to bail, but that option was removed as the heavy doors to the throne room slammed shut, a golden curtain of magic locking them for good, he was sealed in. As he whirled around to protest, Ozymandias waved his staff and loudly proclaimed,

"Let us see what you are made of! Come! Your opponent tonight is none other than I, Ozymandias! Fight with all you have, worry not about death. Nobody dies here, unless I permit it. Begin!"

There was no time to consider alternatives. He had no choice but to endure whatever this trial threw at him. The fiery efreeti closed in on him from all sides, but he had a few seconds before they arrived. He flexed his hand as his fingers closed around the familiar hilt of the onyx khopesh. Taking a deep breath, he dropped into a low stance and prepared for their arrival. He wasn't the greatest at summoning creatures, but he knew someone who was and he recalled a particular piece of advice from Sejun,

"All summoned beings have a core. Think of it like an anchor, where they accumulate magical energy and solidify their physical bodies. If a summon goes rogue, or if you face a hostile summon, aim for that core. On higher level creatures, they'll be well protected. So strike hard and strike true, or better yet, come get me! I'll dispel any nasty beasties that come to get ya!"

He was thankful that he paid more attention to Sejun than his professors, at least in this case. Reaching out for the magical energy that bound them, Alex sensed a small node in each of the efreeti that gleamed brighter than the rest of their bodies. "The cores!"

As they swarmed around him, their long razor-sharp fingernails crackled with barely contained heat. He kept his cool until the right moment, when all four were equidistant from himself and each other. Determining that the time was right, he spun in an arc and brought the khopesh crashing into the first of the efreeti. Its wraith-like form offered little in the way of physical protection from the khopesh's keen edge. The form flickered and hissed from the blow, then came the sound of cracking coals as the blade bit into something more solid. The core shattered with a loud pop, and the flaming body sputtered and winked out of existence.

Alex had put all of his weight into the strike, and guided the khopesh into the rest of the approaching efreeti in turn. With a singular and well-placed blow, all four vanished from play. Alex was untouched, save for the first-degree burns on his hands and arms from the closeness of the fiery beings. Smoke filled the space, partially obscuring his vision and stinging his eyes and throat. Pushing aside the lingering cloud, he stepped forward to see that another eight flaming familiars had appeared around him in a semi-circle. Ozymandias stood tall and distant,

"Go on then. Speak your mind, while you have my attention."

Alex cursed silently, "He wants me to fight and talk? Fine then. I'll make the best of what I've got here!"

He charged towards the center efreeti, dodging a series of raking claws from its companions as he cut the fire spirit in half with a core-shattering blow. Rolling forward to avoid getting surrounded, Alex popped up facing seven opponents with his back to the Pharaoh. Not wanting to be overly rude, he turned his head as he asked his first question in the short breath he had before the efreeti swarmed him,

"Who was Euryale?"

Fighting and listening was more difficult than he expected, which was considerable seeing as he understood that the two were often mutually exclusive. Finding a balance between allocating his focus between the battle and what was being said. Ozymandias was certainly not a quiet person, but he was not proclaiming in his usual sonorous intonation. Rather, his tone was calm and even like an educator. It would be easy to mishear his words over the sounds of combat, so Alex forced himself to be more attentive than he should normally need to be. While he was able to catch most or all of the answers, it came at the cost of several burns and claw wounds.

"Hm, I suppose you would be curious about that. Very well, your inquiry is acceptable. Know this, the Heroic Spirit called Euryale was no ordinary Servant. She was a true goddess, who hailed from ancient mythology and lived alongside mortals during the Age of the Gods. However," and he grinned as Alex stumbled backwards under the pressure of six efreeti, "I believe you were already aware of this. So, you were concerned with other details then? Very well! I shall permit it!"

He cleared his throat and began, "All divine beings possess an Authority, the ability to shape the world around them and bend existence to their will. Do you know why that being could not do such things?"

Alex was a bit busy, diving around a pillar for cover as searing claws threatened to slice him to ribbons. Whirling around in the opposite direction, he caught an efreeti mid-swing and locked it into a battle for leverage,

"No idea! Because she was weak?"

"Not entirely, but also not incorrect. Her Authority was weakness, a price that she paid with her own existence for the blessing of her birth. She was a being that could never age or be despoiled. I believe an apt comparison would be to a porcelain doll; if left untouched she would remain beautiful forever, yet with a single crack she would fall apart to nothingness."

"Then why would she fight at all?" Alex won the clash, the keen edge of the khopesh slicing through the flickering body as if there was nothing there. Five left. Running to reposition himself, Alex dashed through a pair of columns, only to have them ignite with jets of burning light that nearly turned him to ash. He dropped into a low slide and flicked the smoking blade upwards, catching the ray of fire and deflecting it skywards. The ray detonated against the high ceiling, but left no marks. Alex rolled to his feet, missing some hair but otherwise unharmed.

The Pharaoh appeared unimpressed, "A fair question, as her combat abilities were miniscule at the best of times. But she did not fight, she forced others to fight for her. In a sense, that was also her Authority, though perhaps it would be more accurate to describe that as her nature instead."

"Her nature?" Two came at him from both sides, engulfing him in overlapping cones of blazing heat. His wards groaned under their combined weight, but they managed to shrug off the worst of it. Spots of light danced in his vision, making tracking the crackling spirits exceptionally difficult. He was able to deflect one of the claw attacks, but failed to react in time to the second. Searing pain wracked his body as a set of razor-like blades sprouted from his left shoulder. They withdrew quickly and he shuddered from the sickening sensation, but no blood spilt from the wound. Not caring to notice the little details, he skewered the one before him and then spun on his heel, decapitating the second. Three left.

"Indeed, one's nature is a descriptor of one's character. After the separation of men and gods, the pieces of surviving deities became linked to humanity. Human desires became their desires, wishes gave them form, emotion gave them life. She was born of humanity, without them, she could not exist. Do you recall her parting words?"

Images of red flame and splattering blood flickered through his mind; of course he remembered, he just didn't like doing so. He would never be able to forget those hoarse, whispered words so filled with terror and despair. But even among them, there was one word that jogged a part of his memory. A name, one synonymous with death and terror,

"Medusa…"

Ozymandias shrugged approvingly, "So you paid attention. Good, that should tell you everything else you need to know about her. But, in the chance you fail to connect the threads, I shall graciously do so for you! You may bow your head in gratitude at any time!"

Alex was in no position to do such a thing, not that he was sure he would do so anyways. Though the brief pause from Ozymandias indicated that the opposite was expected, during which Alex was too preoccupied with the incoming salvo of claws that seemed all too intent on severing his neck from his shoulders. Even if he couldn't see him properly, Alex could feel a sense of slight disapproval radiating from the throne.

"Euryale," Alex was rather impressed at his ability to bridge such a gap in conversation so smoothly, "was one of the Gorgon sisters. A trio of goddesses born of mankind's selfish desires. Since she was born of selfishness, that is all she could have been. Without humans, she could not exist, and thus she was to be bound by them in all aspects. That is all she was."

"But why haven't I heard of her before?" He dove sideways and underneath an efreeti, breaking its core with a well-timed upwards slash. There was enough time for him to hear the answer,

"Monsters are remembered."

The last two efreeti were dispatched shortly afterwards, with no further words from either. As the last of them dissipated in a cloud of hissing embers, Alex turned back towards the throne, smarting from the multitude of burns and claw wounds. Only now did he fully realize the lack of battle damage to the throne room. All signs of scarring, burn marks or broken stone had seemingly been repaired. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that no damage had ever been done in the first place. "Truly, this place belongs to him."

"How curious." The Pharaoh's musings called him to a halt and he titled his head upwards to listen,

"You appear to have no qualms about destroying my spirits, and yet you made such a fuss about confronting that mage. I must admit that I do not understand the differentiation."

"They're just summons, barely constructs." Alex retorted, his cheeks flushing with heat, "They aren't really alive at all."

"Oh? Is that what it is? And is that how you are rationalizing the fact that you killed that man? That he wasn't really alive? That he wasn't human?"

The words closed around his throat and filled his lungs with their weight, sinking deep into his core and latching onto his heart. It became very hard to breathe, much less think. The worst part was that he could not refute those iron words, as that was exactly what he had been doing to move past that night. It was so much easier to believe that he had not killed a man, but a machine, that he had simply flipped off a switch rather than tear out a heart.

He hated Ozymandias for throwing those words at him, for making is sound like he was committing some kind of trespass for doing so. Magical energy crackled across the surface of his skin as his temper flared, "So what if I did? What's so wrong with that? He wasn't human! He threw his humanity away long ago!"

Ozymandias remained calm and collected, "Oh? And who are you to determine who and what is human? Do you believe that you are all-knowing and all-seeing?!"

Energy surged within his body as Alex leapt forward, unable to withstand his own emotions any longer. No, he wasn't all-knowing, nor could he see all things. He wasn't some kind of ancient god or mighty spirit that could shrug off the heaviness in his heart. He was just another human; a small, insignificant human.

But he had to do something, his pride refused to allow him to roll over so easily. Now was the time for him to prove his resolve, and his worth. Ozymandias sighed slightly and snapped his fingers, "What a futile effort. Struggling will only lead to further pain."

At the sound of his snap, two fully formed sphinxes of carved stone and blazing light appeared on either side of the throne. They were a pair, their faces carved into female and male likeness with each adorned in bejeweled headdresses and claws of black obsidian. They turned as one and snarled at his approach, lowering their leonine bodies in preparation to attack. Alex refused to turn aside, despite the opportunity. At a nod from the Pharaoh, they pounced and met him halfway.

The whole pyramid seemed to shudder under their combined weight as they careened forward; the male reached him first and reared back on its hind legs, bringing the forelegs down with a thunderous crash. Tons of pressure slammed onto nothing, as Alex had long since sidestepped the telegraphed attack. What he could not prepare for was the tectonic shockwave that emanated from the impact point. The floor rippled and yielded, stone and shrapnel scattering everywhere as he lost his footing and slid backwards into a column. There was little time to recover, as the female was soon upon him.

A clawed forepaw, the size of a small car, lashed out with a speed unbecoming a massive stone statue in his direction. He barely rolled aside in time to avoid being pulverized, but the column was not so lucky. Dust filled his lungs when he tried to breathe, turning his attempts into wheezing coughs while his eyes watered and protested.

"Get up! Move! This is my chance, my chance to prove that I'm not weak! I'll make him see my worth, even if it kills me!"

He was slow to rise and his breath was labored, judging from the pain radiating from his side it was likely he had a bruised rib or three. From the dust cloud there came a sweeping claw that caught him unprepared and he was only barely able to put the khopesh between it and his body. The force behind the claw was too much for him to withstand and he was batted aside like a ball of yarn. The blow sent him tumbling to the far end of the room, stopping only when he connected with one of the many carved columns.

With the wind knocked completely out of him and a crushing pain in his lower back, he was understandably slow to recover. Gasping and sweating profusely, he pulled himself onto all fours and struggled to focus on the ground beneath him. His vision was blurred and shaky, and his limbs weren't holding up as well as he would have liked. The constant fighting was taking its toll on his body, and he began to doubt his chances. Chances at what though? Certainly not victory, he was not so foolish that he believed that he could somehow defeat Ozymandias on his own turf. No, he was doing this to be recognized. To be more than a pawn or a tool as a means to an end. He wanted this for himself.

Since he was unable to match the raw power of the sphinxes, then it was time to go for broke. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he stood unevenly towards the throne where the sphinxes had taken up position. He stared up at Ozymandias, who had barely moved a muscle throughout and was now looking upon him with amused anticipation. It was clear that he was, at the very least, intrigued as to how Alex was going to get out of this one.

For his part, Alex honestly had no idea if he could, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. Seeing that the sphinxes were not moving aggressively, he allowed himself a few precious seconds to regain his sense of self. With each breath, he drew more magical energy from what was left of his reserves until his whole body crackled and sparked. He pushed more and more energy into his circuits to the point of pain, until a small nimbus swirled around him. Across the way the sphinxes dropped low in anticipation, while Ozymandias' grin widened.

The air snapped angrily in his ears as he pushed everything he had into his final stage of preparation. In the moment before he reached the breaking point, Alex bent the magic to his will and bound it to him. The result was explosive.

"Catch this you damned cats! LIGHTNING RUSH!"

The amount of force that propelled him forwards was surprising, even for him. He accelerated towards the throne, aiming himself through the gap between the two sphinxes. Naturally, the stone guardians had something to say about his brazen assault. Each moved in unison to cut him off, their unmoving faces each turning in his direction as if to chastise him for his foolishness. But to him, their movements now appeared sluggish and cumbersome, making it far easier for him to predict and counter them.

The female-faced sphinx that was to his right seemed to be the faster of the two, one of her forepaws slashing laterally at his midsection but with such speed that it may have been doing so underwater. It was simple enough for him to duck beneath it and avoid accidental dismemberment. Now came the time for him to put his plan into action.

Slipping beneath the claws of the first sphinx, he leapt up onto its second foreleg and entered a crouch. The sphinx acted as he hoped, raising the leg in surprise at the sudden contact which added momentum to Alex's leap. He jumped not forwards, but sidelong onto the male-faced sphinx's headdress. He held onto the serpent ornament atop its forehead with one hand and gripped it with all his might. It was a good thing he did, as the sphinx reared back to its full height and tossed its head in an attempt to dislodge the unwanted passenger. But this was exactly what he was hoping for, he just had to hold long enough to be launched in the appropriate direction.

The sphinx heaved its mighty shoulders and Alex let go, using the remaining embers of his acceleration spell to give him the last boost he needed. He soared through the air, leaving a trail of sparking energy in his wake as he descended on his target: Pharaoh himself. Alex turned over mid-air and gripped the khopesh with both hands, preparing for a singular, decisive blow. As gravity pulled him downwards, an unnerving apprehension filled him, perhaps a bit too late considering his position. Ozymandias had not moved a single muscle since the fighting began, and even now with Alex bearing down on him he showed no sign of being the least bit concerned.

Then the Pharaoh did something unexpected; he turned his body towards Alex, granting him a better angle of his person. He spread his arms wide, as if aiming to catch Alex in an embrace as he fell. A disarming smile had spread across his face and his golden eyes shone with excitement. Alex had no choice now, he had to follow through with every ounce of strength he could muster.

The moment came. He brought the khopesh down onto Ozymandias' shoulder at an angle, with enough power to sever the arm clean through the bone. The blade bit down hard, but found no purchase. It was a good, clean strike, but there was nowhere for it to go. His skin felt tougher than the hardest steel and no matter how much force he placed into the blade, it simply refused to budge a millimeter further.

Determination quickly reverted to confusion and shock as Alex realized just how screwed he really was. A wicked gleam appeared in those fiery irises,

"Is that all?"

He didn't have any time to regret his decisions. Ozymandias' body shimmered with light and a blinding wave of energy launched Alex off the dais, sending him crashing to the ground. This time, he didn't get up. He was spent, completely and utterly. Footsteps echoed as the Pharaoh descended to earth and the statues remained as no more than stonework. He cast a shadow as he stood over Alex, who blearily opened his eyes after a mighty effort.

"This is it then." His head could only produce thoughts of broken melancholy as he listened to his doom approach, "He's going to break our contract. He doesn't need me after all…"

Despair sank its fangs deep into his heart as he cascaded into the depths of his failure. It was all too much, the weight of the reality that surrounded him was crushing and now he was about to lose even more. Doubt threatened to drown him: why was he fighting so hard? Was this worth spilling blood over? Just what was he really fighting for? None of it seemed to matter, he was no closer to achieving any sort of goal than when he started this foolish and ill-considered endeavor. Was this worth it? If he were to be asked the question, he would most definitely reply with a no.

As he realized his own failings, his hands curled into angry fists among the rubble in the crater of his own making. Seeing the glowing visage of the Sun King filled him with a trembling rage, but it was not directed upwards. No, it was aimed inwards, at the ignorant insect that dared to think he could walk amongst kings and believed itself to be their equal.

For the first time in his short life, Alex truly felt hopeless. If his best effort was not good enough, then there was no reason to press on. Giving up seemed the only option left open to him, and he hated himself for it. That virulent hatred swiftly overtook him,

"Damn it…God fucking damn it!" His fist slammed down onto the stone floor, "Why am I even trying this hard…it's pointless. None of this has any meaning to it!" He raised an arm to cover his eyes, so that he could hide the angry tears forming at the corner of his eyes and so he didn't have to look at Ozymandias. He was too bright to look at. Words filled with vitriolic despair continued to bubble from within him,

"Nothing I do will work, there's no point in even trying. I get that I'm useless, that all I've tried to do backfires and goes up in smoke. I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do. All I do is drag others down. So if you're going to get rid of me, just hurry up and do it already!"

No response. The silence was far worse than an affirmation to his fears, and he suffocated without words. Desperation made a last bid for an anchor, one last attempt to stop him from falling into an abyss of his own making.

"Damn it…why won't you say something? You're always so quick with your words and to make others hear, so why won't you do the same for me? I don't understand what you want from me! I'm blundering around in the dark here! Just tell me what you want me to do! Why won't you tell me?!"

"Because then you would not understand."

Hard words tinged with warm disappointment rang in his ears, jarring him from his deep melancholy. He removed the arm blocking his vision and squinted at the Pharaoh, blinking a few times in confusion.

Ozymandias looked down upon him and sighed gently, turning about to return to his throne. With a wave of his hand, cracked stone returned to its uniformed state and broken columns snapped back into place. In seconds, all the damage that had been done was undone as if it had never occurred. Alex groaned as he sat up, though he didn't hurt nearly as much as he expected to.

Sitting back on his haunches, Alex gazed up at the Pharaoh who had since reoccupied the briefly vacated throne. Now, the two regarded each other through the visor of a bond no longer defined. For one, reality had superseded expectations and was now struggling to come to terms with the new actuality. For the other, well, who could say?

Contemplation leads to conversation, it is inevitable. And so, at long last, Alex gave voice to his reason for stepping foot into the pyramid,

"You really don't need me at all, do you?"

A singular eyebrow was raised, "And why would you think such a thing?"

"I keep thinking of what Ar – Euryale, said on the rooftop. That I was no more than a useful, but disposable tool. That if I didn't somehow prove my worth, I'd get cast aside…" The more the words spilled from within him, the more foolish he felt. He trailed off under the scrutinizing gaze that was looking down upon him and averted his own eyes, unable to maintain any kind of meaningful contact. His cheeks burned from humiliation and his shoulders slumped as he waited for the proverbial shoe to drop.

But nothing of the sort came, there wasn't even a bout of hysterical laughter at his expense. Instead, a serious silence settled over the throne room, one that seemed to stretch on for minutes on end. At long last, the silence was broken by a quiet sigh from the throne,

"So, am I to suppose that this is what has been weighing so heavily on your mind?"

Alex nodded sheepishly. Ozymandias placed his head in hand and brushed away some imaginary errant strands of hair, "Such a troublesome vixen, right up to the very end."

He then crossed one leg over the other and steepled his hands, "Then I shall make all things clear, in a way that you can understand them. Raise your head, so that you might hear my words with the utmost clarity."

Alex did so, a kernel of unease still churning deep in the pit of his stomach. Ozymandias spoke with a ringing tenor that made the very stones tremble at his words,

"Your error, a grievous one at that, is in your perception. A Pharaoh is absolute in our perfection, we require no assistance from any being, mortal or divine. We, in opposition to that Greek goddess, exist for humans, not because of them. All Pharaoh's exist as the culmination of humanity's wisdom and strength. We are humanity perfected; all others exist to serve us and to be guided by us. In light of this, we have no need of others. Know that among all who were Pharaoh, I am the greatest of them all. None shine brighter than I, none command the forces of Heaven or Earth as I. In that case, you are correct, I have no need for humans such as yourself."

The words gathered themselves around his heart and crushed inwards, cracking what was left of his resolve. He was fully prepared to cut things off then and there.

"However."

That singular word shocked the life back into him. A small glimmer of hope sparked to life where doubt and insecurity once dwelled.

"This is not to say that humans like yourself are not needed, for that is why the Pharaoh is needed; to guide and strengthen the world that we rule over is our greatest and proudest of duties. Without humans, we rule over nothing. And a Pharaoh without people is a sorry thing indeed. Do not bemoan the natural order of things, for no force in all of time can overturn it. This is why I have descended from the Throne: to give humanity the ruler it so desperately needs. I shall save humanity from the darkness; I shall bring them to the light! Know this as truth, young mage! Do not avert your gaze, not for a moment! Lest you too, fall into ignorance."

Ozymandias sat back into his throne as his final words echoed throughout the chamber. It was a truly thunderous proclamation that he had just delivered, one that took Alex several seconds to absorb to the best of his ability. Without grappling with the brief speech too much, he arrived at a singular question,

"If you've come to guide us, what are you guiding us through?"

For what seemed like the very first time since he had summoned him, a smile of genuine approval swept across Ozymandias' face as he leaned forward in an almost conspiratorial manner,

"Were this any other circumstance, I might begin to wonder if you were questioning my divine authority. But these are unusual times, so I shall permit it. Have you not sensed it?" Alex shook his head, unsure of what the Pharaoh was referring to. His fiery eyes narrowed to slits,

"There is something very wrong with this Holy Grail War."

"What? How do you mean?" Alex could tell that Ozymandias was deadly serious when he said this, as there was no hint of his typical, mocking tone. This fact rightly made him nervous, if only for the simple fact that it made the Pharaoh all the more unpredictable. The explanation came swiftly,

"I had my suspicions from the moment I materialized, a Pharaoh must always be attentive to the whispers of Geb, the Earth Father, after all. Yet I could not find any proof to support my decisions, that is, until that harpy of an Archer made her appearance. Understand this, young mage, the phenomenon called Euryale should not exist in this world. This phrase should be well known to you by now, but I am not convinced you fully comprehend its depth. Those touched by that which is divine, such as myself, can materialize as Heroic Spirits. Those who are divine, should not. Do you understand?"

Alex slowly nodded his head, "I think so. You're saying that something outside the bounds of a normal Grail War has either allowed or forced through a Heroic Spirit that shouldn't usually be allowed. Right?"

"Hmph. You would make an excellent parrot. Or a scribe, they are both similar after all. But yes, that is correct. There is something, or someone, that has been interfering in things that are far beyond their comprehension. Such foolishness requires severe punishment…"

As he trailed off, Alex wasn't sure which made him more nervous; the fact that the Grail War was being tampered with, or the sight of the air around Ozymandias vibrating with barely controlled energy. Thinking on his feet, Alex switched gears,

"If someone is messing with the Grail War, they need to be stopped. How do we do that?"

Ozymandias turned a pair of distant eyes on him, "We? No. Do not be so foolish. It will be I that solves this, and you shall assist me. Be grateful for this opportunity, few receive the privilege of admiring the works of a Pharaoh so closely."

He deflated somewhat, "Ah, okay then. What would you have me do then?"

There was a brief moment of silence that was followed by a dismissive wave, "Whatever you would like. Continue to fight, find opponents, crush them, befriend them, it matters not. Whatever actions you take will eventually force the culprit to the surface, and when that happens, I shall grant the lightless one the reward that they so desperately crave! But until that time, I shall remain here and continue to expand my Ramesseum."

The golden doors behind Alex swung open, startling him slightly. Ozymandias rested himself against an arm of his throne, chin in hand, "Go now. I have much to consider."

There was no ignoring the obvious dismissal, and he knew that it was best to simply obey rather than invoke the Pharaoh's ire. Begrudgingly, Alex rose to his feet and awkwardly half -nodded, half-bowed towards the throne. He wasn't really sure how to act in this situation, but he wanted to ensure that he wasn't incinerated for being too rude. It did not seem to matter to Ozymandias, as he did not acknowledge his attempts at stately deference. With his head swimming with more questions than he had answers and exhaustion finally setting in, Alex turned and left the golden warmth of the Sun King, the heavy doors clanging shut behind him as he made his way out into the crisp night air.

Darkness had fully gripped the hour as he made his way back down the mountain trail, his way lit only by the moon and the ambient glow from the silvery pyramid behind him. He returned to the hill where he had left Mina, and was unsurprised to find it empty. It seemed that a fair amount of time had passed since he entered the temple, and it would be presumptions of him to expect that she would wait up. He recalled his parting mood with her in bitter tones, and made a mental note to apologize. There was no reason for him to have been so short with her, it wasn't fair, especially given all that she had gone through alongside him.

With his mind filled with a veritable cocktail of questions, concerns and far too few answers, he made his way back into the mansion. Upon raiding the fridge for a late-night snack, he noticed a wrapped plate of that night's dinner with his name marked on the plastic wrap. He sighed, and decided that he would need to double-up on his apology in the morning.

Once he had sated his appetite, he returned to his room. When he went over himself to assess the damage he had incurred while inside the pyramid, he was astonished to find none. While his stamina was totally gone, his physical body was in perfect shape. Another mental note was made, this one to try and get Ozymandias to explain everything that his Noble Phantasm could do. It just seemed to be too useful to simply ignore. But all of that would have to wait for the sun to rise, and he slipped into much needed slumber.

That night, he dreamed of a burning city swallowed by shadow where nobody screamed. Instead, all he could hear was cackling, exuberant laughter and a ghost of a face that only existed in the corner of his eyes.

When he at last woke he found, to his horror, that he was smiling.