Special Ops Force Six, by Enthalpy
Originally posted on April 18th, 2012
"Welcome," Nanoha said, looking at the rows of unfamiliar faces gathered in front of her in the auditorium. "Welcome to Special Operations Force Six. You are here because you are the best of the best. As you may have heard, SOF Six was formed because of the recent increase in criminal cases involving Anti-Magilink Fields. Many of you may remember the JS Incident several years ago, so most of you are aware of the unique constraints which AMF puts on our operations. As such, in the three months before we officially begin operations, you will be trained to fight in AMF environments, to identify potential sources of AMF under battle situations, and to disable AMF equipped devices.
"Many of you may have trained under me before. Others may have heard some... distasteful stories about my methods. I will say this right now - the three months before you officially deploy will be some of the worst in your life. If you feel that you cannot handle the workload, you should leave now. There is no shame in doing so." Nobody moved, and, with an approving nod, Nanoha continued. "Congratulations, then, on your selection, and, once again, welcome to Special Operations Force Six. Unfortunately, General Yagami was unable to attend today, so, in her place, please welcome her executive officer and deputy commander, Major Shirou Emiya!"
There was a smattering of polite applause as Shirou walked out to the lectern in the middle of the stage. "Thank you," he said. "As Nanoha said, I will be serving as Hayate's executive. What this effectively means is that, most of the time, you will all be taking orders from me." He waved at the screen behind him, and it flared to life, showing a stylized white sun on a dark blue background.
"We are a unit separate from the rest of the TSAB. Thus, as of today, you are no longer members of the Navy, the Air Force, the Army, or whatever branch of the service you might have been in. Put aside any misconceptions and stereotypes you may have had of your comrades in the other branches. You are all members of the same unit now." Shirou gestured at the emblem behind him. "This is to be our unit insignia. As you may see, the words 'A Coelo Usque Ad Centrum' displayed across the bottom. General Yagami thought it was appropriate - it reflects our operational domain almost perfectly.
"Even though, officially, we are not to be called upon to assist local forces until it is clear that they require assistance in managing whatever situation may have occurred, it is likely that will serve as first responders." He smiled mirthlessly. "In the past four years, I have been ordered on seven missions to seal lost logia, four missions to hunt down rogue criminal elements, and one mission to put down a local rebellion. Each time, I have been severely injured in some way. Over the past four years, I have spent nearly twelve months hospitalized.
"While I will do my best to ensure that none of you will be injured as I have, it is impossible for me to spare all of you. Make no mistake - this will not be an easy assignment. You may rest assured, however, that, during your tenure here, each and every one of you here will have acted to ensure that ordinary citizens can live without constantly fearing for their lives." He paused to take a moment to look at the fresh faces arrayed in front of him. "Once again, congratulations on your appointment to Special Operations Force Six. It is an honor to serve with you."
"Twenty percent," Nanoha said as they sat in Shirou's office after the results of the initial assessment she gave the recruits came back in. "Any more than that, and we're starting to take people who really aren't qualified for this outfit. Twenty percent should be feasible, though."
Shirou looked at her in surprise. "That many?" He leafed back through the report. "Less than half the people you've marked as candidates for SOF Six have the technical skill to be able to cast spells like Variable Shoot, and only five of them have had any experience with mass weaponry. If we had a bit more time earmarked for training before our deployment, I'd agree with you, but, as it is, I don't think it'll work out. Really, I'm tempted to just wash most of these people out. The stuff that we're supposed to be dealing with is too different from what everyone else is used to dealing with, and it's going to be an uphill battle just to beat out their old habits."
"It will work." Shirou looked at her quizzically, and Nanoha elaborated. "They can be trained, if it's merely concerns about technical ability. Even if they don't have the raw power or technical skill now, everyone I've chosen has the ability to learn what is necessary. Reflexes, too, if you're worried about that. Instinctual responses can be changed with enough practice." Nanoha smiled in a way that could only be described as sinister. "They will learn. I can promise that."
He nodded without looking up from the report he was reading. "If you say so. We'll still be understaffed by quite a bit, unfortunately. Nominally, we should have at least brigade strength. Even with the extra people you're planning on taking, we'll be hard pressed to even muster a full-strength battalion. Unless Hayate can..."
"Hayate can what?" The person in question burst in to the small room, and Erio trailed in after her, looking vaguely embarrassed.
"As I was saying," Shirou continued, shooting a glare in his superior's general direction, "unless Hayate can somehow scrounge up several hundred mages of at least Subaru's or Teana's caliber, we're going to be severely shorthanded. I doubt support staff will be hard to find, but we won't have more than half of our on-paper complement of combat-ready personnel."
Hayate shrugged helplessly. "It was going to be an issue regardless. I don't think that there are enough mages in the entire TSAB to fully staff our brigade. Just don't worry about it - I'll find some way to take care of it." She paused to think for a moment. "Maybe if I..." Hayate shook her head. "I might be able to call in some favors, but don't expect me to be able to pull anyone else."
Nanoha sighed. "I suppose it can't be helped. In any case, I'll have the report done by the end of the week." She looked up. "Erio, you sent me a message regarding a training schedule?"
Fate's adopted son nodded. "Hayate wants me to be a squad leader, but I've never had any experience organizing group exercises on this scale before, so..."
"It's okay to ask for help," Hayate said, with no trace of her usual boundless energy. "I don't think any of us have really had experience with such large scale project. Anyway, you're both dismissed. Go home, sleep, work on training schedules, whatever it is you do for fun." The two others left, leaving her alone with Shirou, who was still reading through the report.
"So," he said, after a moment, closing the folio and dropping it on his desk with a muted thump. "What is it that you'd like me to do for you this time, Hayate?"
She smiled unabashedly. "What makes you think that I want you to do something for me?" She waited for Shirou's glare to subside, and then continued. "Really, there's nothing I need you to do for me right now. It's just that... there's been issues with some of the other commanders. They don't like the fact that there's a unit in the forces now that's effectively out of their control, they don't like the fact that their forces have been stripped of nearly all of their best to supply us with personnel, and they were not exactly... pleased at the choice to make me a general over five years early. I think my appointment of you as my deputy was the last straw. Admiral Graham and General Gaiz have been pressuring us to reduce our personnel count, and, in particular, they want you to step down."
"If you want me to, I can resign - you know I certainly don't particularly care where I work as long as..."
"...as long as the Wolkenritter are safe. Yes, yes, I know. We've been over this far too many times." She sighed. "I cannot let you leave. Without you and the Wolkenritter, I'm losing a good chunk of the mid-level commanders and a disproportionate amount of combat potential. I'll deal with this somehow. They're probably looking for some concessions about our operational mandate or something similar."
"But I..."
"You won't be causing me trouble, Shirou. Besides, if you're officially my subordinate, your detractors can't directly do anything against you, since you'll be outside the official chain of command. It's not that big of an issue... I'll figure it out." She grinned. "I can always send you off on some long-term mission if anyone seems to be trying to transfer you out from under my command."
"Well, I suppose I'll have to look on the bright side, then. No matter how bad the missions I'm going to get sent on will be, they can't possibly be worse than all the stuff that happened during the Grail War, can they?"
"You idiot!" Hayate snapped, looking at the yards of gauze bandages which adorned Shirou's torso. "You could have died pulling that stunt!"
"It was necessary, and you know it. If I hadn't done what I did, none of us would be here right now." He snorted. "Besides, it worked, didn't it?"
"That still does not excuse your actions!"
"I can take the most damage out of everyone else in the entire division." "Besides," Shirou said dryly, still sitting in his hospital bed, "If I die, I can be replaced. I'm sure you can find someone else to do all of your paperwork for you."
"It's been this long and you still haven't managed to get it out of you head that you are not expendable?" She sighed. "Look. Since your family does not seem to have imparted this lesson to you properly, I'm going to do it for them." She poked him in the chest as she leaned over his reclining form, the volume of her voice steadily growing louder and louder. "You are no longer a simple foot soldier. You are not just some grunt with no name." He looked away, suddenly finding the cup of stale coffee that she had been drinking before coming to visit particularly interesting, and she grabbed his chin to tilt his head towards her. "Listen to me. Like it or not, you will get rid of those suicidal tendencies of yours, or I will be barring you from participating in any further combat missions. Do you understand?"
"...As you wish."
Hayate groaned, seeing Shirou's dejected expression. "I really don't want to have to do this," she said softly. "But you have to understand that I... no, we care about you. Not just your family, but Nanoha, Fate, and I, as well as the rest of Riot Force Six... You have fought with us too long for us not to." She gestured out the window, pointing towards the parade grounds where a platoon of soldiers were drilling under Nanoha's watchful tutelage. "You're not like those faceless soldiers. You're not just another statistic to be reported and then forgotten. You have a face and a name. You have your own identity. You have..." Her voice caught in her throat.
"You have us," Hayate said quietly. "There is only one Emiya Shirou, and I..." She paused to wipe off the tears slowly gathering in her eyes, leaving dark streaks on the dark blue sleeve of her uniform jacket. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered, "you or any of my other friends. You, the Wolkenritter, Fate, Nanoha, and the others... You have all become part of my family. I don't want..."
Shirou sighed. "All right," he said softly. "I'll try not to make you worry." He looked at her, seeing the pronounced dark rings under her eyes. "How long has it been since you slept?" he asked.
"Two... Three... Four?"
He hissed. "Four days?" Shirou groaned, seeing her faint nod. "How bad was it?" he asked. When she refused to meet his eyes, remaining silent, he asked again. "How many?"
"As you might remember, we sent out two companies," she said slowly. "If we're lucky, we'll have enough combat-ready personnel to constitute four platoons. Seventy-five percent casualties, just in this one engagement..." Hayate shook her head tiredly. "I've been up writing letters." She yawned. "I should go," she mumbled. "I've already spent far too much time here talking to you. There's so much work for me to do and so little time..."
"You should stay here," Shirou said, shifting over on the small bed to make room. "Sleep. It won't do any good to work yourself into exhaustion. Whatever problems there are can wait. You can deal with them tomorrow, when you're coherent enough to be able to think about them clearly." He stopped and looked at her expectantly, and she reluctantly lay on the bed next to him. "You say that it's your job to look after your subordinates," he said. "Just this once, then, let me look after you."
"You shouldn't..." Hayate sighed. "You shouldn't have to take care of me like this. Although, I suppose I can permit it just this once..."
When Rein came to visit Shirou, several hours later, she found them there, sleeping, Shirou's arm draped protectively across Hayate's shoulders. She smiled. At least Hayate wasn't screaming at Shirou this time. Perhaps asking her to talk to him hadn't been such a bad idea, after all.
"They're here!" the voice in his ear shouted. "The perimeter has been breached! Forty bogeys en route towards your position."
"Acknowledged." Shirou looked to his right, where both Signum and Vita stood, waiting for his signal. "Sleipnir," he whispered, and he felt the familiar sensation of the large feathered wings growing from his back. He smiled. "Ready?"
"Always."
Slowly, the black dots of the AMF drones crept onto the horizon. The twin swords of Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands. "This is Sword Lead," he said. "Engaging hostiles."
Together, they charged.
Change Cometh, by Enthalpy
Originally posted on July 17th, 2012
Things fall apart, the center cannot hold,
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned.
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
As with any other capital, Cranagan has many memorials. Some are to the great figures of the past, to commemorate deeds done by the various heroes and statesmen who give Mid-Childa its rich and diverse history. And then, there are other memorials. These are less-often visited. Here, there are no towering monuments, no carved statues or graven images.
No, these memorials are much different. The atmosphere surrounding them is not that of joyous celebration, but, rather, solemn contemplation. And indeed, these black marble slabs bear a sort of quiet gravity, an almost tangible aura of somberness.
This is a memorial for those who have died in the line of duty, on various missions for the TSAB. Several of the marble slates are blank, the details of the missions so classified that neither the names of the deceased nor the dates of their deaths have been released to the public.
It is here that Shirou Emiya spends his time off, despite the vociferous disapproval of his family. It is peaceful here. Very few people come here, save to pay their respects and leave, and, even then, the air of tranquility rarely is shattered.
Only three people know that he frequents this place, and, of these three, two understands his reasons for staying there and allow him his moments of peace. And the third...
"Shirou!" someone shouted, and the person being called upon jerked up his head in surprise.
"General Yagami," he said, considerably more reserved, as his commanding officer approached him, still dressed in her slacks from her working days at the office. "What do you want me to do for you this time?"
"Do you think that little of me, Shirou?" she asked, giving him a tearful look.
Shirou fixed her with a glare. "You're not fooling anyone with that look, Hayate. Do I have to remind you that I'm on leave? And that the only time you ever bother to find me when I'm out of the office is either because you want someone to make you food, or because something that you don't want to deal with has come up?"
Hayate sighed, looking apologetic. "Your remaining leave has been canceled," she said, tossing him a folio. "Your mission briefing is contained in there - let me know when you'll have the men ready to move out."
Shirou looked at the papers he had been given, following Hayate out of the small park, and snorted. "Why do they have to call us in for every little thing? We've been called offworld four times in as many weeks for things that, by all rights should be trivial!"
"Before you decide to be outraged," she said dryly, "you should finish reading the briefing. I've been trying to get headquarters to stop sending us out for trivial matters, and they've agreed to hold us in reserve in most cases. But this... This is something big."
Shirou blinked as he read further. "Is this for real?" he asked.
"As far as I can tell, yes."
"And how, exactly, did a small-time organized crime ring manage to get their hands on those?"
Hayate shrugged. "Does it really matter? The point is that they have them, and, since none of the local forces are about to go anywhere within forty miles of that warehouse, it's our job to go in and retrieve the devices in question."
"Even I don't want to go anywhere near that warehouse." Shirou sighed, looking at the floor plan. "We'll need at least five full squads on-site. Three covering the exits from the building and two to actually go in. So that means... Do we have support from the Navy for this? Getting our gear that far out is going to be quite the problem, considering how much of it we have."
"Admiral Harlaown has agreed to provide transportation."
"In that case, then, get two VTOLs out of the vehicle pool and take them with us." He looked up. "Are you going to be coming along? We'll need an on-site commander."
Hayate gave Shirou a look. "Isn't that your job?"
"Well, I..."
"Right. Stupid question." She sighed. "Shirou," she said. "What rank do you hold now?"
"I'm a Colonel," he said dryly. "You got me promoted against my wishes. Again."
She groaned. They had been over this many, many times. "Then tell me, Shirou. If you are perfectly aware of the rank that you hold, then why do you insist on acting like a common foot soldier?!" Shirou opened his mouth to answer, but Hayate cut him off. "Don't answer that," she snapped. "You're an officer. Act like one, if not for my sake, then for the sakes of the soldiers who need you to lead them. Lead them, Shirou. Lead. And I don't want to hear any of your excuses about 'delegation' or 'leading from the front'. It doesn't work that way."
Shirou looked at Hayate, then a the papers in his hand, and then back at his commanding officer. "All right, then," he said. "If you insist, I'll do as you say. But I have one condition..."
"How did you get Hayate to come out here with us, anyway?" Signum asked Shirou while they were waiting to deploy. "She told me that she wanted you to start taking a bigger role in terms of command responsibility." She eyed him a bit skeptically. "I thought that meant that you were supposed to take charge of this operation while Hayate took care of the administrative stuff."
"Shirou can be very... persuasive when he wants to be," Hayate said over the intercom. "He told me that he would do me some favors if I came along."
Signum looked at him. "You didn't do anything untoward, did you?" she asked, suspiciously.
"No, not at all," Shirou replied hastily. "I just told her that I'd make her start doing her share of the paperwork if she actually made me hold a command position." He smiled. "I thought it was only fair."
"Shirou!" Hayate groaned. "You weren't supposed to tell her that."
"Are you sure about this, Hayate?" Shirou asked, looking at the shipping containers stacked from wall to wall in the warehouse.
She shrugged in response. "They would have been slated for destruction regardless. I'm just going to be... repurposing them."
"This violates essentially every regulation concerning mass weaponry that I can think of. And if you get caught... What in the world what you ever do with four suitcase nukes?"
Hayate grinned. "Greetings from H. Yagami, ruler and king of the Special Operations Force. Our words are backed with NUCLEAR WEAPONS!" Shirou stared at her, and she pouted, letting out a longsuffering sigh. "You never get any of my references," she complained. "Ever."
He gave Hayate a flat stare. "Is this really the time?"
She sighed. "Okay. You've been handling the a lot of the administrative portions, right? You know as well as I do that our unit is being called upon more and more to suppress various crime syndicates in the outlying Administered Worlds. The problem, of course, is AMF proliferation. Plans for a simple and inexpensive device have been leaked, and it's basically seen as an easy way to deter law enforcement. Of course, whenever it's encountered in any great quantity, we get called in.
"The problem here, then, is that we don't have nearly enough manpower to take care of all of these requests. There simply aren't enough skilled mages in the entire TSAB to properly outfit our unit to its on-paper strength, and, as if that weren't enough, we're slowly being worn down to the bone by attrition."
Shirou snorted. "Slowly? It's only 'slowly' because the Wolkenritter and I take on most of the combat-heavy assignments. Despite that, ten percent of our active-duty personnel are out for over six months on medical leave. And that's not counting all the people that quit."
"Right," Hayate said. "The point is, we it is physically impossible for us to take care of all of the cases that end up assigned to us. But we're the only organ in the TSAB that can effectively deal with mass weaponry and AMF at the same time. It doesn't help that we've gutted the other branches just to outfit the force. Crime has increased over twenty percent since last year on the less-developed worlds, and we simply can't keep up." She sighed. "There have been several motions from various parties to relax the mass weaponry regulations so that we can outfit our police forces properly, given the changing times and conditions. Each motion was quashed by the Three Admirals."
Hayate walked outside, and Shirou followed. "How much time until your sentence is commuted?" she asked, wandering off aimlessly into the thick forest which surrounded the warehouse.
"Two or so," he said.
"Shirou, can I trust you to keep a secret?"
"Of course."
"You can see the trends as well as I." Hayate sighed, leaning against a tree, and slowly slid down the trunk until she was sitting at the base. She patted the ground next to her. "Sit, please. Thank you." She smiled sadly. "When I was a child, Shirou," she said, "I wanted to be great. I wanted my name to be remembered. I wanted my own chapter in the history textbooks. It is through ambition and only ambition that I have managed to claw my way up the ranks. And only now, that I am nearing the top, do I realize how the foundation beneath me is slowly crumbling away. I've read some books on management and law back from Earth. The TSAB is a poster child for mismanagement. Nepotism, corruption, conflict of interest... Did you know, Shirou, that Chrono was assigned under his mother, back during the Jewel Seed Incident?"
"No," Shirou said simply.
"I'm hardly the only one who has noticed these things. The TSAB is slowly dying. This... crime problem is only hastening its demise." She shook her head. "Two months ago, I was approached by a group who called themselves the Congress of Worlds. They told me that they are planning a rebellion. Their complaints about the TSAB's policies have been completely ignored. They wanted me to help them - apparently the SOF has quite the reputation for being fair and efficacious."
"So you've been stockpiling mass weapons."
"So I've been stockpiling mass weapons. I know that all you have to do at this point is bide your time a little longer. Just a few more years, and you'll be free to leave and do whatever you wish. But... Please. Will you stay? Hard times are coming. There will be a rebellion, a war. I truly do need your strength."
Shirou sighed. "The Wolkenritter and I are deeply indebted to you. You're the one who managed to prevent Rein's execution, you gave me us a job where our talents would not be wasted, you made sure that I wouldn't get targeted by anyone looking for reprisals against us. I, no, we owe you more than I could ever repay you in my lifetime. Lead, and I will follow. My sword is yours. And..." He grimaced. "Undoubtedly, my family will follow, as well."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so very, very much."
And then she leaned over and kissed him.
When Shirou returned home, Rein was waiting for him.
"There is to be war," she said. It was not a question.
He nodded his assent. "How could you tell?"
"I have seen nations rise and fall. I have seen empires appear from nothing and crumble to dust. I have seen continents sundered and sunk beneath the waves. I have seen entire planets laid waste. Belka was the first fall I have witnessed, but it is by no means the last. The warning signs are all there. The people are restless. The government is ineffectual. Crime runs rampant, and in the capital, the leadership refuses to act, pretending that all is well. I have seen these and more. It is no surprise. To all things, there is an end. The TSAB is no exception."
"Hayate has asked me to join her in her crusade. When the time comes, I want you to..."
"When the time comes," Reinforce said firmly, "we will fight."
"But I..."
"I have discussed this at length with the others. We are knights, Shirou. We are no strangers to war. Do not try to shelter us. We are the ones who are supposed to guard you." She sighed. "I love you, Shirou," she said quietly. "We love you. Please. Let us at least fight alongside our lord and master. Or have you already forgotten the oaths we swore to you?" She smiled. "Do not make light of this, Shirou. We have sworn ourselves to be your sword and your shield, and we will act in your best interests, whether you want it or not."
And then she leaned over and kissed him.
A nation, long united, will splinter. A nation, long divided, will unite. So it has been, and so it will be.
The worlds of the TSAB have been united for nearly a hundred years. And it will soon splinter.
Third Dimensional War, by Enthalpy
Originally posted July 24th, 2012
In the eighty-first year of the TSAB, thirty worlds rose up in revolt. They declared themselves to have removed themselves from the aegis of the TSAB, and formed a new governing body, the Congress of Worlds. They were joined in their rebellion by three separate fleets and nearly forty percent of the TSAB's standing army.
The TSAB objected most vociferously.
The resulting war was henceforth referred to as the "Third Dimensional Civil War", although it was hardly 'civil'. It was short and vicious - even though it only lasted five years, casualties on both sides were appalling. It was a war which, in many cases, pitted brother against brother, sister against sister, friend against friend.
By all accounts, the war should have been over in days. The rebel army was outnumbered almost two to one on the ground, and the TSAB had kept nearly all of its naval assets. But the TSAB was unprepared for war. No one in the upper echelons had seriously believed that a rebellion of this scale would ever occur. Much of its forces were tied up on garrison duty, and, by the time it mobilized its reserves, the CoW had already achieved parity.
Even then, the TSAB might have won - it still controlled the core, industrialized worlds, and its population base was an order of magnitude larger. To this day, the CoW's victory is attributed to one thing and one thing only - the defection of the majority of Special Operations Force Six. When the SOF left, it took with it hundreds of the most skilled powerful mages in the TSAB's employ.
Under the guidance of Hayate Yagami, and freed from their police duty, they quickly became notorious for their unorthodox fighting style and their ability to show up at the most inconvenient times and places. Soon enough, they gained a reputation fearsome enough that some TSAB units would flee upon contact.
Among the ranks of SOF Six, there was perhaps one person whose name inspired terror in friend and foe enough, one person who carved a bloody trail through the history books. His name was Shirou Emiya.
He has the dubious honor of having the highest kill count of any soldier in contemporary times, even rivalling that of the Sankt Kaiser Olivie Segbrecht herself. Always accompanied by the Wolkenritter, he was consistently the first in to every combat situation and the last out.
The CoW said he was a hero of the people, and the presses told stories of his brave deeds, day and night.
The TSAB said he was a war criminal, and placed a bounty on his head.
They called him a murderer and a martyr, and, in the end, he was both, and neither.
~ Excerpt from Blue Sky, White Sun: The Story of Special Operations Force Six
Vaizen. TSAB Administered World Number 3, and home of Caledfwlch Techniques. Gateway to Mid-Childa. The civil war has dragged into its fourth war, with horrendous casualties on both sides. Still, the end is in sight - if the CoW can take and hold onto this world, then they will be able to launch a direct assault on the headquarters of the TSAB itself.
Unfortunately, the initial assault had failed to take the planet, and Hayate's forces had stalled. Now they were pulling back, trying to shorten the length of front they had to defend.
"Shirou," Hayate had said to him. "I need you to hold your position until our forces finish their withdraw. The Wolkenritter are tied up defending..." There had been the crackling boom of an explosion and loud shouts, and it was a long moment before Hayate spoke again. "...defending headquarters. I need you to do this."
And so he held his position, even as the rest of the army retreated around him. So far, not a single enemy had challenged his position. Apparently none were willing to risk the wrath of "Yagami's Attack Dog", as the latest news reports from Mid-Childa had called him. Oh, how he hated those names...
Then suddenly, a challenger appears. A speck of black and gold against the green of the hilltops.
"Sleipnir," he says, and black feathery wings sprout from his back even as he rises to meet the intruder. It is someone he recognizes. "Fate Testarossa. How kind of you to visit."
She snarls at him wordlessly, and slashes at him with Bardiche, which is already in Riot Zanber form. He drifts left, not even bothering to block the overhead swing, and the yellow blade misses him by a hairsbreadth.
"Why are you so angry at me, Testarossa?" he asks. He receives no reply, and, instead, Fate slashes at him even more viciously. This time, twin black-and-white blades materialize in his hands, and he parries the blow.
"Don't call me Testarossa," she hisses, as she breaks off. "You monster! You have no right to call me by that name. How can you live with yourself after slaughtering so many people?" She swings again and again, and is blocked at every turn. "Why?" she asks him, between blows. "Why do you kill?"
He smiles. "The people you call comrades are my enemies. It is their job to impede me, just as it is my duty to remove their impediment. This is no children's game like it was before, Testarossa, where defeat means friendship and every attack is nonlethal. No. This is war. Fight for your life, Testarossa, because I fight for mine."
Fate has pulled back a bit now, to build up momentum for another pass, and he lets the twin black and white dao in his hands fall to the ground. She knows she has no chance of winning at range, not against the master of the Tome of the Night Sky. She has to finish this fast.
Trace, on.
He knows what blade it'll be even before it materializes in his hands. It's the holy blade of a paladin who fell in defence of his liege. Durandal. There will be undoubtedly be reinforcements behind her... Hopefully he will fare better than this blade's previous owner.
"Strike true," he whispers, even as Fate swings back around. The blade glows, as if to acknowledge his command, and, even as Fate charges at him, he throws.
She lets out a strangled gasp as she skewers herself on the sword with her own momentum. It sinks into her chest up the the hilt, and she falls out of the sky, tumbling and spinning with the wind.
He grimaces. He can smell the blood with his reinforced senses, even from here. There are others now, on the horizon, no doubt intent on avenging their comrade's defeat. Even if she doesn't die from the blood loss, it's at least a mission kill. No need to worry about her again for quite some time. But perhaps he can check on her before he retreats?
He sighs, even as he calls up Archer's bow. This is not a good time to worry about the fallen. All that can wait until this fight is over - the battlefield is no place for philosophy, after all.
Still, as he fires at the unlucky mages of the Bureau, he cannot help but whisper. Hate it though he might, Fate's words have struck a chord within him. "Hayate," he mutters, even as screams of pain and fear rend the air. "How many more must I kill?"
Signum is troubled. She is the one who understands Shirou the best. Among the Wolkenritter, not even Rein can claim to have as deep of an understanding of their master as she. Perhaps it is becaause of his nature. She is a swordswoman. She knows blades - they are her calling, after all. And is Shirou not a sword himself?
Even as she fights off the suicidal attack on General Yagami's field headquarters, she has this feeling that somehow, something is not quite right. And as she flies off to cover her master's retreat, this feeling only grows.
It is not until she actually sees him, though, that she understands the reason behind this. He is carrying an unconscious, and, from the looks of it, a half-dead Fate Harlaown. And embedded in her chest is the Durandal, the sword of Roland.
In her spare time, she has studied the legends and histories of the land she now calls home, and Shirou's use of this blade... It disturbs her on a visceral level. Roland, in the end, died in a desperate last stand, and his situation is uncomfortably close to something that Shirou might do.
She realizes, of course, on an intellectual level, that Shirou will someday grow old and die. But it is not something she has dwelled upon, and for good reason. But this... sword, and the stories associated with it, only serves to hammer this truth into her heart.
"Shirou," she greets.
"Signum," he returns, with a smile. "I'm glad you're safe."
"Go," she tells him. "I'll cover you."
He nods gratefully, and flies off, the back of his shirt dripping with blood which is not his own. And she cannot help but watch. It is all too easy to imagine Shirou being the one with the sword through his chest, gasping for breath even as he lies dying on some forgotten battlefield...
She shakes her head forcefully. No. Her master is safe. There is no reason, no reason at all to worry.
Shirou has done so much for her, so much for all of the Wolkenritter. It seems as if her contributions to his safety pale next to the sheer weight of what he has done for her and her family.
And even as she chases after her master, the man she would die for in an instant, the person she loves above any other, she cannot help but shiver, and imagine... No. She has devoted herself to Shirou's protection. She must not fail in this self-imposed duty. She will not fail. She must never fail.
Shamal is troubled. She is the one who understands Shirou the best. Among the Wolkenritter, not even Signum can claim to have as deep of an understanding of their master as she. It is only right that this is so - of the cloud knights, she is the one who heals and nurtures, the one who takes up the plowshare instead of the sword. And is it not said that the doctor knows her patients best?
But even as she heals the wounded from the Bureau's suicidal attack on Hayate's headquarters, she has this feeling that somehow, something is not quite right. And even as Signum flies off to find their master, this feeling only grows.
It is not until she actually sees him, though, that she understands the reason behind this. He is carrying an unconscious Fate Harlaown, who, from the looks of it, seems to be near death. And embedded in her chest is the Durandal, the sword of Roland.
Signum has told her of her forays into the legends of their new home, and the story of Roland is one of the few which she still remembers to this day. It simply struck home in a way that few of the others had. It is not a story she particularly likes - the tales of blood and battle are ill-suited for healers, after all, but that last stand is uncomfortably close to something Shirou might do.
She has always had a feeling that someday, Shirou would fall in battle, far away from her healing touch. This sword and this story associated with it serve only to bring this feeling to the surface. It is not something she would prefer to dwell on.
"Shirou," she greets. "Are you hurt?"
"Shamal," he replies, with a smile, "I'm fine. You should check on Fate. She's a lot worse off than I am."
"Go," she tells him, after casting a quick diagnostic spell. "I'll take care of her."
He nods gratefully, and walks off, the back of his shirt caked with drying blood that is not his own. And even as she works to stabilize the dying girl, she cannot help but think of that shirt. How many patients has she failed to save? With each death that has occurred under her watch, she has felt more and more guilty. Failure, she thinks, each time. I failed yet again.
She shakes her head forcefully. No. It was not my fault. There was nothing more I could have done.
Shirou has done so much for her, so much for all of the Wolkenritter. It seems as if her contributions to his safety pale next to the sheer weight of what he has done for her and her family.
And even as she works on saving that girl he brought in, she thinks of her master, the man she would die for in an instant, the person she loves above any other, she cannot help but shiver, and imagine... No. She has sworn to heal her master, no matter how grievous his injuries. She must not fail in this self-imposed duty. She will not fail. She must never fail.
Vita is troubled. She is the one who understands Shirou the best. Among the Wolkenritter, not even Shamal can claim to have as deep of an understanding of their master as she. After all, they are kindred spirits. Her job is to break and shatter, to pierce through walls, no matter how strong, through sheer brute force. And is that not an apt description of what Shirou does best?
But even as she fends off the Bureau's pointless attack on Hayate's field headquarters, she has this feeling that somehow, something is not quite right. And even as Signum flies off to find their master, this feeling only grows.
It is not until she actually sees him, though, that she understands the reason behind this. He is carrying an unconscious Fate Harlaown, who, from the looks of it, seems to be near death. And embedded in her chest is the Durandal, the sword of Roland.
She has asked Shirou before, to tell her stories of brave knights and fair maidens, to let her have the childhood she never had. And so he had. Germany, Japan, Russia, China... he had scoured countless books and tomes to find more and more tales to relate to her. And she has remembered them all. Let it never be said that Vita does not treasure what she few memories she has of a kinder world. She remembers them all, and the story of Roland is no exception. She hates that story, hates it with a burning passion. It is anathema to her. It stands counter to everything she stands for, for it is a story about a man tried to break an obstacle, and shattered himself in the process.
But despite this hatred, she knows. Someday, there will be a barrier that Shirou seeks to break, a wall that he seeks to shatter, a hurdle he seeks to leap. And he will fail, and in the process, chip and shatter just as Roland had in that story. It is not something she likes to think about.
"Shirou," she greets, after Shamal finishes checking him over. "You all right?"
"Vita," he replies, with a smile. "I'm glad you're all right."
"Come on," she tells him, latching on to his arm. "Let's go home. Hayate's granted all of us two days of leave. She figures you could use some time off."
He nods gratefully, and walks off, Vita still clinging to his side. She can smell the scent of blood on his body, even if his shirt is crisp and pristine. It is a thick, cloying smell, and it never quite goes away. How many people has he killed? How much blood is on his hands? No matter how much death and destruction she may have caused in her past incarnations, it no doubt pales before what Shirou has done. But there is perhaps one most important question. How long until Shirou meets someone he can't kill? Something he can't break?
She shakes her head forcefully. No. Best not to think about that. No sense in ruining a vacation with dark thoughts, after all...
Shirou has done so much for her, so much for all of the Wolkenritter. It seems as if her contributions to his safety pale next to the sheer weight of what he has done for her and her family.
And even as she laughs and giggles at Shirou's jokes, once more the little girl she could never be, she thinks of her master, the man she would die for in an instant, the person she loves above any other, she cannot help but shiver and imagine... No. She is the knight of the hammer. She will smash everything in her master's way. She must not fail in this self-imposed duty. She will not fail. She must never fail.
Reinforce is troubled. She is the one who understands Shirou the best. Among the Wolkenritter, not even Vita can claim to have as deep of an understanding of their master as she. Who else can say that they have inhabited his very body, walked among his thoughts and dreams? In some sense, she was Shirou, if only for a brief few years. There can be no closer connection than that.
But even as she sits at home, waiting for Shirou's safe return, she has this feeling that somehow, something is not quite right. And even as she hears Hayate's brief message detailing the particulars of Shirou's leave, and rushes off to make frantic preparations for his return, this feeling only grows.
But it is not until dinner that night that she understands the reason behind this. He has yet again done what would be impossible for any other. And from what Signum tells her, he has called upon Durandal, that accursed blade, to do it.
She knows the story behind every single blade in that vault that Shirou calls his soul. It is rare that she is called upon to fight with Shirou (and how she hates how she is always the one left behind), but every single time she unisons with him, she treads upon that barren wasteland, and she knows. And it is the histories of blades like Durandal that stay with her the longest. Sometimes, she wishes she didn't know, wishes that she could simply smile and be awed at the swords of such fine craftsmanship that Shirou produces. But it is far, far too late for that.
Reinforce knows. She knows how Shirou is a sword himself. She knows far too much about swords now to forget that any sword will inevitably break. Swords are only metal, after all. They will rust, and chip, and shatter. And Shirou is no exception.
"Shirou," she says that night, just before she falls asleep. "I'm worried about you."
"Rein," he replies affectionately, with a tired smile. "I'll be fine. As long as you're safe."
"And that is why I'm worried," she says.
He nods gratefully. "Thank you," he says, running his fingers through her long hair. He's telling the truth, and that makes it all the harder to accept. Shirou will do anything to ensure his family's safety - especially hers - and she hates it. For once she wishes that he would let her fight, but it is a hopeless endeavor. She knows him all too well, after all. But Shirou is a sword. Some day, he will try to cut something that cannot be sundered, and then he will himself be sundered.
She sighs. No. She shouldn't dwell on such thoughts. For now, they have each other, and that is enough. But still the thought lingers.
Shirou has done so much for her, so much for those she calls her family. How could she possibly contribute something of worth, compared to that which he has given her? Someday, he will break, and then no amount of effort could possibly hope to put the pieces back together. What will she do then?
And even as she falls asleep contentedly by his side, she dwells on this question. And in the end she comes up with nothing. All she can do for now is wait and hope - hope that the war comes to an end soon, that Shirou and his knights will return, safe and sound, that she can finally live in peace with her family once all this is said and done. And she does.
Hayate is the one who understands Shirou the best. Even the Wolkenritter cannot claim to have as deep of an understanding of their master as she. She, unlike them, is human, and so she can truly understand just how deeply Shirou's distortion runs. It is because of this understanding that she has always tried to help Shirou where she could. After all, he certainly needs whatever help he can get.
But even as she's desperately trying to command with the soldiers that she commands while simultaneously fending off a Bureau air raid, she has this feeling that someohow, something is not right. And even as she works to pave the way for assault to regain lost territory, this feeling only grows.
It is not until she finally get around to reviewing footage of Shirou's fight, long after the headquarters complex has been locked down for the night, though, that she understands the reason behind this. Hayate watches as Durandal materializes in Shirou's hands, watches as he spits his former colleague upon that sword, watches as he lets her fall to earth.
She knows the story behind most of Shirou's blades - even though he may be reluctant to tell her their stories, she at least knows their names and abilities. It is her business to know. She is his commanding officer, and in order to be able to lead him effectively, she must know what Shirou is or isn't able to do. Durandal. Grants three miracles. Wielded by the paladin Roland, who used it to make a heroic last stand...
Hayate doesn't know why Shirou chose that particular sword, but its choice stands out to her. The parallels are there, and connections between the two situations are easily made. Perhaps it is indicative of some psychological disorder? Well, she already knew that. She's tried psychiatric treatment before, but it's failed miserably. Even Shamal has given up on trying to "fix" him. Thankfully, Shirou has mellowed quite a bit from what he was before. Otherwise she would be genuinely worried.
But still, it is a dangerous trend. Perhaps she'll need to speak with him about unnecessary risks at some point, if just to make sure he understands...
Shirou is a sword. It is his Origin, after all, the guiding force which defines his existence. And swords can be damaged, all too easily. Maybe, then, she should give him and his family a month or so of rest and relaxation. But can she afford to have him away from the front for so long?
Hayate sighs and leans back in her chair. She hate having to make these decisions.
A long, long time ago, she looked up to Nanoha as a paragon, as a symbol of all that was right and good in the world. Back then, there was only black and white, and friendship could solve every problem. She's long since left those days behind, though. The world is a harsh place, and it is filled with hundreds of shades of grey, and it is only thanks to the Holy Grail War that she learned this lesson.
It has been a long, hard road since then. She's crawled up the chain of command, one step at a time. In the process, she's been presented with awards and accolades. But what does she truly have to show for her work?
She is jealous, she supposes. Yes. Jealous of Shirou. They were both orphans, who living alone in the world, without any family to speak of. But where Shirou had built a family of his own, she has nothing, save for a spartan apartment, barely lived in.
She's not exactly getting any younger, and sometimes she wishes that Shirou would look at her, if not as a woman, then at least as... family. Yes, that would be nice. Family.
Hayate grimaces and turns back to her work. There's no point in wallowing in self-pity. She has chosen this for herself. It is by her own decision that she walks this path.
She wonders, though. When the battles are all over, when there is nothing left to fight, what will she do?
No. There is no point worrying about things which are yet to come. For now, she has a war to win. One step at a time, right?
But even as she works into the early hours in the morning, she cannot help but wonder. Where does she go from here?
The Grail, She Lives, by Santo
Originally posted on June 4th, 2012
It'd waited, oohh how long it had waited.
It could remember having been betrayed, it could remember offering the world to one, offering him peace. It had gifted him with the chance to make its truest wish come true.
And it had been rejected.
It remembered only one name-
MutilationRapeMurderEnslavementTortureDesacrationRapefromhateRapefromloveRapefromboredomeMutilationRageLiesPoisoningMurderCheatingMurderStealingMurderSlanderMurder-
-Emiya…Kiritsugu.
He would pay.
It would make him pay.
It would find the traitor, it would find the one who had been offered everything, it would find the one who spat in its face.
It had waited ten long years. Trapped, unable to move, unable to-
HateMurderAbuseMurderAbandonmentMurderJealousyMurderVindictivenessMurderIgnoranceMurderKidnappingMurderRapeMurderTheftMurderAbuseMurderRapefromloveMurderTortureMurderPrideMurderBetrayalMurder-
-breathe, unable to feel, unable to remember anything other than its-
MurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurderMurder-
-betrayal.
But soon, oohhh so soon. Soon that would change, soon it would be able to move again, to feel again, to kill again.
Emiya Kiritsugu had thought it destroyed, Emiya Kiritsugu thought that the light which burned had destroyed it, he had been wrong. It matters not how much you burn it, as long as a drop remained, it would live, it would survive, it would continue, it would recover, it woul-
DieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDie DieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDie!
-d thrive.
But…no…something was wrong.
Emiya Kiritsugu was no more. It…she…it had been a she…it had been a woman…yes.
She could feel this. She still remembered cursing her betrayer; she remembered
hurting
loving
him,
crippling
loving
him, she remembered
poisoning
loving
him.
Yet she could feel that taint was active no more.
Emiya Kiritsugu was dead.
This angered her. Emiya Kiritsugu was hers! Some bitch had dared kill Emiya Kiritsugu before she had a chance to
kill
love
him!
This would not do, this would not do at all. She searched within herself, to find something anything.
And she did.
There was something ou-
DieDieDieDieDieDiedIeDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDie diEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDieDiediEdIeDIedIEDie!
-t there.
Jealousy, regret, self-depreciation, lust, rape.
She knew this. She could work with this.
Emiya Kiritsugu was no more.
Emiya Shirou yet lived.
Emiya Shirou lived, cooked, worked, studied, loved.
Emiya Shirou loved.
Emiya Shirou loved.
EMIYA SHIROU LOVED!
Emiya Shirou would know the true meaning of
pain!
love
Emiya Shirou did not live alone, Emiya Shirou had something with it, within him. Something which carried as much darkness as her! He would know! He would understand!
She would need to show him, she would need to meet him, she would need to
kill
love
him!
But wait…she…she had had a name…she had had a name. A form. A life.
What was her name?
She could not recall.
What was her form?
She could not recall.
Somewhere deep bellow a mountain, a viscous dark liquid began to seep out of a great construct. Drop by drop by drop by drop.
One little drop at a time.
Much time passed before a large puddle was made.
Out of the puddle, a woman with alabaster skin, hair as white as snow, and lips as red as blood stepped out. She was the very definition of beauty incarnate.
The woman smiled.
"Emiya Shirou." She breathed in a husky tone.
"Welcome Home", by Santo
Originally June 7th, 2012
It was done.
He'd had to sneak away from the rest of the ritter, no mean feat when one considered Zafira's keen senses.
Or how clingy Vita was when she slept.
They had all wanted him to remain behind, to stay safe. And who could blame them?
But he could not do so. She was family, the mornings would be less bright, the day longer, life not as full.
So he'd gone to her, intending to bring her back, to find some way to cleanse her.
To save her.
It was done, he'd managed it.
To call what they had a battle would be a severe overstatement.
She was the knight of the sword. He was just a bumbling master who hoped to one day be half as good as her.
He had been told that she could not be saved, that it was beyond hope, that it would be best for her if he just hardened his heart and ordered her death.
But…he couldn't. She was family. You protect your family.
Their 'battle' had lasted mere moments.
Two strikes.
Two strikes was all she needed to break him.
One to beat aside his weapon.
The second to imbed her sword into his flesh to the hilt.
Now they both knelt there as the Signum he knew and loved fussed over him with tears in her eyes. Asking him not to talk, sobbing that everything would be ok.
The wound was mortal, and they both knew it.
They'd both seen more than enough death to know when she would claim her due.
With great effort. Shirou looked into the eyes of his knight before speaking.
"Hey Signum…you were late for dinner, I'm afraid Vita ate your portion."
His words just served to further bring tears to her eyes. Staring at him in disbelief as his life fluid fell in ever widening rivulets to the floor.
"Shammal was a little worried." Continued the young man. "You know how she is, too uptight for her own good."
"S-Shirou, don't talk, please! W-We can fix this! We'll just take you to Shammal and she will…she will." At that moment the Knight of the Sword fell silent, her beloved master only had minutes to live, they would never make it to help in time.
"Vita was in an uproar, didn't even watch TV all nigh-"
Shirou had to stop as he was wracked by a violent coughing fit, the blood that had been slowly seeping into his lungs finally made itself known. When he was done, he was unable to breathe.
As Shirou sat there in the arms of his beloved knight, the light dimming from his eyes, he struggled to do something, anything to assure her that everything was ok, that all would be fine.
He looked into the eyes of the speechless, inconsolable Signum, and smiled as his blood trickled down his chin.
"Welcome home."
Signum's grief woke many a sleeping person that night.
"Thank You", by mangafreak7793
Originally posted on June 28th, 2012
The first thing Emiya Shirou could see was a bright light, his surrounding him were in a blur, the voices yelling across from each other were all in a muffle and could not properly hear them.
"Shirou, wake up!"
"Kid, Don't die on us!"
"Shamal, What's going on? Why isn't he healing!"
"I-I don't know." The lady of the lake replied, distraught and pale as her white dainty hands pressing on the growing wound on the boy's abdomen, her hands covered in red and greed from the blood gushing out of his wound and the aura of he healing magic she is trying to apply in order to close it. "It's not responding to my treatment, it's not-not responding at all, it-s-it's..."
The girl pulled her hands away from the wound it favor of covering her face, as she was brought to despair.
"It's like that part of his body has already dead..."
"..."
Their was silence between the other three knights, a loss of words and a heavy atmosphere filled the air. The only one who managed to break this heavy silence was Vita, the spitfire of a Belkin knight grabbed her fellow knight shoulders.
"Hey, Your joking right?" She started shaking her. "Come on, we just need to patch him up and go home like always."
"Vita..."
"We were all supposed to go home together, eat dinner together..."Tears began to cause her eyes to blur as she herself started to shake. "We were supposed to have more fun days."
"Vita." Signum began to say sternly as the only one who still has her composure. "As knights..."
She was cut off as Vita glared at her.
"Knight? How can we call ourselves knights when we couldn't protect one boy!" Vita yelled out before her voice turned into a whisper as she continued. "How can you stay so calm, he's bleeding out and yet you are dry as a whistle, especially you out of all of us don you lo-"
"v-vita..." A weak groan came from their dying master as they all turn their heads and gathered around him. "Please don't yell at Signum."
"Shi-Shirou."
"She is only trying to get a grip of the situation but..." His listless gaze turn towards the Knight of the Sword's hand which is dripping frop of blood, blood shed from frustration of unable to do nothing, frustration that all she could do and stand as her master die. "She is hurting just as much as you and I'm sorry..."
"Don't say that." Signum muttered. "We have failed you as knights, who have sworn to protect you."
"No." He responded as he dimly shook his head. "Far from it, if anything you have saved me..."
The Knights widen their eyes in shock as the words 'saved' entered their ears, to let down their master yet still say they saved him.
"When Kiritsugu saved me from that fire so many years ago, I felt empty..." He thought back to that memorable day, after the flames, the pain, to see such a relieved expression on the man he will later call his father, the joy he felt, and the wonder if he could ever be that happy. "Even when I inherited his dream to become a hero of justice, all I wanted to do was recklessly chase that dream, to save someone, to save everyone and find that happiness he had found when he had saved me..."
He smiled.
"But then you guys came, you appeared when all I had was that dream, you stopped me from rushing what would have likely ended up killing me sooner or later..."
He silently grabbed Signum's hand and dragged it towards Vita, the to Zafira, and finally to Shamal into a small pile.
"You gave me a family, one that supported a dream everyone thought was stupid or suicidal and have protected me as best as you could."
"but it wasn't enough..."
"Sure, it was...but most importantly you filled the emptiness that was with me, you guys gave me mundane but very bright everyday life so even if I didn't became a hero, I was happy so..."
"Thank you Zafira, for training me and sorry for not becoming strong enough."
"Thank you Shamal, for caring so much and sorry that I can't give you anymore cooking lessons."
"Thank you Signum, for trying to protect me and sorry for having you be the calm one to the very end."
"Thank you Vita, For being yourself and sorry that I can't cook for you anymore."
"Thank you...and goodbye."
His hand went limp as it slowly left his knights grasp, his eyes eyes no longer bright and filled with dreams and ambitions but a dark amber filled with death, and a pool of crimson blood will the floor reaching towards the Wolkenritter's feet.
No one within a certain radius could not hear the cry of despair and pain that soon came after.