Nobody understands him. Nobody understands the burdens he faces, each and everyday.

When Romani Archaman joined Chaldea, all he was responsible for was the welfare of its staff. A big responsibility, sure, but he never managed things like resources or direction. He simply kept them alive and healthy, and let the others take care of the other things. He didn't need a vision. He didn't need a plan. He simply took care of them, and let the Director Animusphere - Maris-Billy or Olga-Marie - handle all the rest.

Now he's in charge. The Acting-Director, appointed after everyone else died when Lev betrayed them, not by vote of confidence but by necessity as the only member of the senior staff left alive. All the El Mellois and Edelfelts and the rest… everyone who would have succeeded Olga-Marie died before she did.

He intends to do his best, of course, and he wants to save mankind… but it's not easy. And there's no one he can talk to, about the burden suddenly placed on his shoulders. No one would understand. Not even Da Vinci. And certainly not-

The door clicks open, and Ritsuka Tohsaka steps in with a massive stack of papers and tablets, closing the door behind him with his leg like a true professional. "Morning, Director Roman. I've got the next eight micro-singularity teams planned and ready to deploy, according to this schedule over here. Besides that, though, we're going to have to start looking to the future. I need an inventory on our material stores, both mundane and magical, before we start with Servant ascensions. I also need to know our rationing timetable, our facility restoration timetable, and Da Vinci's schedule for bringing Reactor Three and Four back online."

"...Uh," Roman starts.

"I also need to know what the status of our defenses is like. We haven't been attacked yet, but even with Lev dead the legions of Duke Flauros are probably still out there, we have to be prepared for an attack. We also need to be prepared for future invading singularities, like what happened with Okita and Nobunaga, so I also need to know what Da Vinci's progress on that is like. I also need to know our progress on the next Singularity; Lev's death is probably not in their plans, so we should have enough time to regroup a bit, but I need to know if TRIMEGISTUS' data agrees with that course of action. That can wait for another day; for now I just need the inventory manifest."

Roman blinks. He looks up at Ritsuka. "...Good morning to you too, RItsuka."

The Master plants the stack of papers on his desk and puts his arms on his waist. "Also, gonna need you to sign off on all of this." He nods and puts his hands in his pockets. "So… any idea where the inventory manifests are?"

"...Uh."

Ritsuka frowns and looks out the corner of his eye. "Nevermind, I should consult Lord El Melloi II about the statistical modelling first, maybe ask Da Vinci if I can have access to TRIMEGISTUS for a bit… I'll get the manifests later. Have a good day, Director!"

He runs out and closes the door behind him before Roman can get another word in edgewise. It clicks shut and leaves him in silence again. Roman looks at the stack of deployment orders and briefly glances at the one on top first; a twenty-page strike mission order detailing the Servants, his justifications for deployment, what he expects to lose, and what he expects to win, with a list of alternative options in case any Servants in the original team are unable to commit.

He didn't even know deployment orders got this long. How long did he take to do this? Did he even sleep?!

"...Right," Roman says, sucking on his teeth, "I wonder what Magi Mari has to say about my crushing shame..."

"Kill yourself!" the virtual idol chirps from his desktop in an all-too cutesy fashion, "Tee hee~ "

He looks at the screen. He looks at his empty mug. Roman sighs and picks it up. "Coffee break it is," he mutters, and wanders off ghoulishly.

In the year 2026, human history ended

Now those few who survive delve into the past, working to save history

Hoping that their future will survive

...Of course, when they say 'few', they really do mean like, one person

Because everyone else is more interested in pissing around in between bouts of violent murder

Pray for mankind, and pray for Ritsuka Tohsaka's sanity, in…

FATE/SUNNY ORDER

The numerous strike missions were reviewed and authorised before lunch, and Roman took the opportunity to visit the genius in the basement. Though all of Chaldea was technically Da Vinci's territory – with spaces left open for future Casters to set up their own grounds – her actual workshop was located near the bottom of Chaldea, close to the reactor and the very foundations of the FATE System. All for expediency, in case she had to intervene quickly to deal with an incident, but it made visiting her a bit of a pain. The elevators were, regretably, still under repair, so Roman had to walk down. And unlike a Servant, he does not have the infinite stamina of the dead.

Basically, by the time he actually meets Da Vinci, he is a sweaty, panting mess. Maybe it's time to hit the gym again.

"Oh, Romani!" The Caster practically glides over to him, as if on shoes of air. "Is this about Ritsuka's request? Because he already came down, and I've granted him access to TRISMEGISTUS! He's in the core now with Caster El Melloi."

"...I see," Roman says. Well, it's not a total waste at least. He had something else to ask, too. "Well, do you happen to keep track of our... special material stockpile? Ritsuka wants to know when he can begin Ascensions, and who to prioritise.

"Ah, yes yes! I suppose he'd want to get around to that, too!" The Caster pokes the mechanical eagle on her shoulder on the beak and grins as it sputters to life. "Be a dear and get the manifests, please?" She asks, voice like an angel. The mechanical bird nods and flies off gracefully, an impossibly elegant construct rivaling life itself.

"Thank you, Leo," Romani sighs. "Ritsuka's right, we should be thinking about the future... By the way, how are the-"

She waves him off. "Yes yes, Ritsuka has already asked! Repairs on the west and northwest wing are undergoing and expect to complete in a few weeks – maybe faster if we had Servant labour, but it is no matter I have automata for that! I'm trying to bring the third reactor online, maybe the fourth as an auxiliary. I might be a genius, Romani, but you can't rush these things!"

"You rushed when we detected Rome earlier than usual, though," Roman says weakly. Da Vinci shakes her head.

"No no no, that was different! I had a sudden burst of insight for that one, those come and go rarely. This one's a different problem, fixing it will take time!" Abruptly, she snaps her fingers. "That's right, I had something I wanted you to test!"

Roman frowns. This could go badly. "I have work, Leo. I normally wouldn't mind, but-"

"Pish posh, we're waiting for my bird anyways! Now," Leonardo says as she saunters back to her workbench, poking through her veritable mountain of scrap and parts, "I wonder where it is... Ah, here!"

Leonardo Da Vinci pulls out a robot arm from the pile like a trophy, and looks about as proud of it. "Tadah~! Try it, try it Romani!"

Roman narrows his eyes. "What is it, though?"

"A robot arm, obviously! This one is a rocket fist."

Roman's eyebrow twitches as he smiles strangely. Well, this will end poorly. But he's not getting out of it, so... "Sure... I guess?"

"Excellent! Now hold still, it's only a prototype!"

"Mm," Leonardo Da Vinci says as she purses her lips, analysing the crater in the wall and the doctor flat against the opposite wall. "Yes, will need bracing. Something to counteract the recoil, maybe the – no, inertial dampeners might catastrophically fail and just launch the recoil into them at a weird time... Unless..."

The eagle perches on her shoulder before she can work herself up further, carrying a file in its beak. Da Vinci takes it and nuzzles it on the head, the mechanical contraption squawking at the attention. "Here you go, Romani!" She says cheerfully. "Try not to be a stranger!"

"Fix the lift please," Roman rasps, unable to do more than whisper with the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh! OH! So that's why Ritsuka was panting when he came down! I knew I forgot something." Da Vinci slams her staff against the ground, and her workshop comes to life, over a dozen clockwork automata coming to life. "Sit tight, Romani, I'll have it up and running again soon!"

"Thank you," Dr Roman says, unable to do much else right now.

Lunch was... something, after emerging from the depths of Da Vinci's workshop. He just got a sandwich to go, and spent a few more hours dealing with mundane staff matters. Ritsuka is right; there are a few wounded staff currently in cryostasis that could be revived and treated, which would be a boost to their current abilities. But the problem is treatment; he's the only qualified physician on staff right now, and at the current workload the best he can do is one a week. It's a glacial pace, completely unacceptable. Oh, if only some of the Servants were doctors... Unfortunately, those will have to wait.

There is other work to be managed, though. Disputes between staff, management of morale, all the hundreds of variables that have to be tracked and managed and balanced. Which micro-Singularities approach their bubble of reality and can either be passed over, must be resolved, or can be exploited for resources must also be determined as well, as must the welfare of the staff be managed. The first signs of stir craziness are already cropping up, not to mention the long term psychological ramifications of being the last surviving humans left... Few brought family along. For all Roman knows, the only ones with relatives in Chaldea are Ritsuka and Kana.

Roman takes a look at the mountain of paper on his desk, the massive blocks of unread emails waiting in his inbox. He sighs, rolls his shoulders, and gets to work. It's his job now. He may have never wanted to be Director, but he won't give up on it either. It's just what he has to do, to save the mankind that he cherishes. At least Ritsuka and Kana can take care of the Servant side of things. They are reliable and capable, and already have three Singularities under their belts.

Someone knocks on the door. "Come in," Roman calls out, and in steps Lord El Melloi II – Pseudo-Servant Zhuge Liang, that is. He and Ritsuka must be done with their statistical analysis. "Caster, how may I help you?"

"Waver is fine," the Lord says simply. They had struck up a working relationship during Rome, the Caster a constant presence at the CIC and his advice invaluable for both Ritsuka and Kana. Not to mention their... prior relationship. "I don't think I ever expected to see you here, Romani Archaman."

Romani just smiles and shrugs, palms upwards. "This is just the hand I've been dealt. I'll just have to make do. I thought you were caught in the blast, though."

Waver shakes his head as he takes a seat before the director's desk. "I was managing matters in the Clocktower during Singularity F. Olga-Marie should have managed things on her own." He raises one eyebrow. "I never expected the Tohsaka children to be involved, however. Or that Lev Lynor would be a traitor, or that Olga-Marie would die." He sighs and pulls out a cigar. "It was a day of surprises."

"Please don't smoke," Roman says anxiously. Neither Maris-Billy nor Olga-Marie tolerated it in their presence. It feels wrong to allow it in their office.

Waver just sticks it into his mouth. "Of course. I know their idiosyncrasies, too. And yours," he adds significantly.

Romani laughs, thinking back to those times so long ago. "How long has it been since we met? Twelve years?"

"It sounds about right," Waver nods. "After the incident... Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now. The people who would know are dead, or us."

"That sounds too ominous for me," the acting-Director sighs. "Couldn't you couch it in nicer terms? Like how it's just a secret between the two of us?"

Waver says nothing. He looks at the Director's desk, covered in papers and dominated by a monitor. "I suppose," he aquieces. "Well, I only came to see how his place looks now. It really does not suit you."

"I suppose it doesn't," Roman says with a laugh. "That's good too, isn't it... I don't think I belong in this chair, either. But it's my responsibility now. I don't intend on giving up." Roman leans forward, resting his hands on the desk. "And I never thought you would be viable as a Pseudo-Servant yourself, Lord El Melloi II."

"I fought in the Fourth War and was involved in the cleanup for the Fifth and Sixth." He looks at himself, the vestements about his shoulders. "Figures that I would be backline support. I would be completely useless on the frontlines, as you might expect."

Romani smiles. "Then that makes the two of us, doesn't it?"

For the first time since entering the office, Waver smiles too. "I suppose." He starts to stand up, hands in his pockets. "I'll be in the CIC if you need me for anything, mulling over the data from TRISMEGISTUS."

"And I'll be here," the Doctor says as the professor leaves, "...Doing my best."

He tried his best. He really did. It feels like it's been literal years since he's seen the daylight, felt the wind on his cheek, known the sound of another voice. And he's still surrounded by paper, reports that need filing, updates that need reading, everything that needs to be everything. He's losing hold of his humanity, losing sight of what he's fighting for. What is the sun? What is a song? What are words? Where is he? Who is he?

There is a knock on the door. "Doctor, are you there?"

"Wuh—I mean, s-sure, M-Mashu! Come in!" Caught with his pants down - metaphorically, of course - in the middle of some overdramatic overacting, Roman quickly composes himself as much as possible before she steps in. The door clicks open in an instant, and the violet Demi-Servant steps in, carrying a serene Fou in her arms like a big white teddy bear.

Her eyes widen as she spots Roman, and he braces himself for a scolding. "Oh, Doctor! You look tired, are you okay?"

His hair is still a mess,and his coat is wrinkled, but she must assume it's from the giant piles of paper around him. She's not wrong, either. Ah, to save mankind, sacrifices must be made. "I'm alright," he says gently, making a show of straightening out his hair. He frowns as he takes a deeper look at her. "Are you alright?"

"Fou, fou..." Fou says.

Roman nods. Is it still eating away at her? How dreadful. "Ah, I see... It's about Ritsuka, then?" Mashu nods. Well... work can wait. This is important. "Take a seat, Mashu. Would you like some tea?"

"It's fine," Mashu says softly. She sits down and tucks her legs in onto the edge of the seat, allowing Fou to hop onto the desk first. Roman makes a cup for himself, and sets it aside after taking a whiff.

"Well, we'll just cut to the chase today," Roman says gently. He clasps his hands together. "You like him, don't you?"

Mashu turns red, and she can't seem to make eye contact with him. She nods tensely. That bad, huh?

"And he likes you, too, right?"

She turns redder, right to the tips of her earlobes. Mashu nods again. It's actually disgusting how easily Mashu can vascilate between adorably excitable to coolly badass to stutteringly cute. It's almost like she was purpose bred for those traits, but he knows better. Mashu is just naturally like this, Shielder or not.

Roman gives a strained smile. "Well, maybe you should have just said yes... just a thought?"

She slides deeper and buries her face into her thighs. Fou turns to him, pouting. "Fouuuuu..." It says, shaking a paw at him.

"I know, I know." Roman sighs. This is really hard. He stands up from his chair and walks around, placing it on Mashu's head. She doesn't react, but she doesn't chase his hand away either. That's... nice. And probably a good sign. "We both know I'm not very good at this," he says with an awkward laugh, "But, I can do at least this much... If you ever need anyone to cry on, I'm always available. Alright?"

Mashu shifts and nods, but doesn't say much else. Well, that's fine too. They don't need to say much. Sometimes, words just get in the way.

...Still, he should at least try and give some advice. "That said... if you really want something, you should... just take what you want, sometimes? Don't be rude or anything I guess... except when you have to be? That's... how the world works? I think?" He glances at Fou, hoping for any sort of positive reaction. The little creature is sticking its tongue out at him.

Rude.

"...Doctor?"

"A-Anyways, I'm sure Ritsuka will be happy to hear you say yes! You should be the one to tell him first, after all!" Roman laughs, hands in his pockets. Shit, shit shit, it's falling apart. "O-Or maybe wait for him to try again! They say that some men don't like strong women, hahaha...!"

She sinks even deeper into her fetal hug. "That's right... I'm a Demi-Servant, I'm stronger than him... Maybe he doesn't like me now..."

"B-B-BUT Ritsuka isn't that kind of boy! He likes strong girls! Loves them, actually! More than anything!"

Mashu lifts her head and looks blearily at one of her arms. She pinches a bicep but finds very little purchase. Sighing, she sinks back down into the depths of her self-created hell.

He's fucked up. He is losing control of the situation. Dammit Romani you're ruining this now fix this. Don't mess it up for Ritsuka he is a good boy who could use a good girl in his life – that is to say they should meet not be used that's not right at all.

"Fou!" Fou jumps at Roman's shoulder and whaps him on the cheek. "Fou!" It slaps him again, with the other paw. "FOUUUU!"

"...You know, I think I know why Ritsuka doesn't like you."

Fou jabs him in the eyes with his forepaws. "Fou fooou FOU!"

"Oi! Ow! Alright, alright, I got it! Stop that!" Roman gets to his desk, turns the monitor and keyboard over, and types quickly. "Come on, Magi Mari... I need your help!"

Fou sighs and shakes its head. "Fou..."

"Hey, it's good advice! Exactly what Mashu needs to hear!"

"You're both fukken normies," the magical girl website says flatly at him. "Just die already! Kyaha~ "

Romani frowns. He shares a look with Fou. Mashu whimpers and sinks even further into a ball-like construct. Any further, and they may have to call her Demi-Servant Rounder. Baller? Something like that, Da Vinci would probably have a name ready. Still, this is an unmitigated disaster.

Fou jabs him in the eyes again.

"Oi!"

There is no resolution here. Just an incredible void of awkwardness. And an irate ball of fluff, going for the eyes.

"..Alright, Lord El Melloi II and I have crunched the data," Ritsuka says as he steps into the office, "by our calculations we have a few months before the next major Singularity appears, as many as five if we're lucky. That should give us time to get Chaldea back up to full functionality, and maybe bolster our Servant roster a bit. Shame we can't summon at the moment... But we really can't use that energy right now." Ritsuka finally looks up from his tablet and finally sees Roman smiling weakly at him, his eyes red. "...What just happened?"

"Small animal attack," Roman says with a faint smile. "Don't worry, I'll be fine soon..."

"...Small animals go for the eyes?" Ritsuka asks, concerned.

"It's the best way to take down big creatures," Roman notes, semi-proud of his nugget of trivia. Only a bit, because he was the big creature in question. Ow, his eyes. Everything is fuzzy now.

"I'll assume you made Fou angry or something," Ritsuka says, his brow set in a slight frown. "So, about the manifests I wanted..."

Roman reaches into a drawer and pulls out three folders. "Here they are. Mundane and magical materials, plus our current rationing scheme, yes?"

"Yep," the young Master nods, and takes all of them. "I'll go over them later. Thanks, Director."

"Any time," Roman says with a smile. He frowns, still smiling. "Actually, there's something else. Come, sit with me."

Ritsuka walks over and sits down on the chair, arms folded. "Oooookay what's up?"

"So... Mashu has never been outside of Chaldea. She's never seen the world."

"I know this, yes," Ritsuka nods. "I'd show her around but... yeah not gonna happen."

"That's right. And I'm the one she turns to if she needs advice or support."

The Tohsaka Heir frowns harder. "What are you implying...?"

"Nothing," Roman says with a smile. "I'm saying that... technically speaking, I'm Mashu's father."

There is silence. Painful, agonising silence that lasts five seconds. Roman counted. It's the only way to stave off the madness.

"...I mean like a father figure," he quickly elaborates. "I'm not actually her father. That would be... weird."

"Uh huh." Ritsuka narrows his eyes. "I'm now even more worried for Mashu than I already was."

"...You're not supposed to say that part out loud."

Ritsuka's cheeks flush; to his credit, his expression does not change. "Probably not. But let's pretend and say I didn't."

Roman sighs. This is going nowhere. "The point is... You have my blessing. Be happy with her. Show her the world, show her life, and most importantly... show her love." He smiles warmly, the first properly fatherly thing he's done in a long time. "She deserves it, and so do you."

Ritsuka stops frowning. He looks at Roman, eyes wide in surprise. He probably never thought there was a side like this to the acting-director. "...Thanks," he manages, working his jaw. "I'll... try my best."

"That's all I need to hear," the peach-haired doctor says. "I trust you perfectly, Ritsuka."

"Mm." Ritsuka frowns again. "Okay, so why do you have a magical girl anime wallpaper on your desktop?"

"Hm?" Darn. He didn't turn the screen around. Fou really did a number on him – and no one must ever know that Fou is capable of such horrifying feats. Oh well, time to own it. "It's not anime. It's Magi Mari."

Ritsuka gives him a dirty look. "That's worse. Magi Mari is trash. And how are you saying that?"

"Firstly, it's Magi Mari."

"Stop saying that. You are an adult."

"Secondly," Roman continues, seething, "Your taste is trash. Magi Mari is peerless advice."

"It is literally some asshole on the internet trolling people. Why do you trust it. How do you still have the internet."

"We have the Algorithm somewhere in Chaldea," Roman explains. "Regardless, you are wrong! Magi Mari is a good, wholesome girl who wants to help everyone with good advice!"

"She literally tells you to kill yourself like half the time."

Roman looks at Ritsuka. Ritsuka looks at Roman. Roman shrugs. "To be fair... I'm pretty sure she's joking."

"You don't joke about that shit."

"Stop shaming me about my interests! Magi Mari is pure and wholesome! NO BULLY!"

"YOU ARE A GROWN ADULT DAMMIT AND STOP SAYING THAT HOW ARE YOU SAYING THAT?!"

It continues from this point on. Nothing constructive. Nothing helpful. Just loud shouting over a 2D anime girl and whether or not she qualifies as the definition of trash incarnate.

Welcome to Chaldea. Goodbye, Ritsuka.

- End Chapter Seven -

Elsewhere in the indescribable realm of the Kaleidoscope, in a realm beyond the reach of man, one person witnesses this debate and laughs himself silly.

"...Hahaha! He keeps falling for it," the man in white robes snickers, his hair also a luscious plume of white, his hands resting on a keyboard of pure white and blue, glowing with ethereal power. "What a fucking normie."