Entry 1

The dawn of a new day approaches. As always, the sun does little to calm my nerves. Though the monotony of my actions (not previously stated, my routine includes a silent patrol through one of the sunnier areas of Chaldea)

We are to set out upon a "Farming Quest." Leonardo Da Vinci has informed me that this is routine. An "in and out" mission wherein we scavenge the small Singularity for it's resources and destabilise it's source. I am capable of respecting the discipline displayed by the usually unruly allies I have obtained.

My allies are Merlin and a boy with a red cloak known as Waver. I know not his identity as a Heroic Spirit. They commune when they believe me resting, whispering tales. I feel this is natural. A wise, silly white-haired man with stave eagerly spinning a tale to a young one all to ready to listen.

There are limited pages. Useless information shall be kept to a minimum.

Entry 2

As expected, the discipline and tactical planning of both the former Grand Caster (as well as additional Caster) and the Master have allowed our victory. I expected little else from a being who had managed to summon an existence as conceptual as I.

I occasionally catch Merlin gazing at me with sombre eyes. If I recall correctly, he and I once knew each other.

That knowledge affects me little.

I am glad the incubus was capable of setting aside personal feelings for the battle. However I feel the other Knights (I was informed at length of their presence) may not be able to do the same.

This could be a tactical disadvantage. I will mention it to Master if I have the time.

Entry 3

I have been informed that tasting the delicacies prepared in the Cafeteria is a relevant avenue to pursue. To build connections between my would-be allies. This logic is sound. I am currently consuming a dish provided for me by a tanned man with white hair. He, like the once-grand Caster, looks at me with eyes of sorrow and regret. I recollect no mentions of a dark-skinned Knight of the Round.

I sat alone and consumed my meal alone.

The idle chatter of the cafeteria allowed me to think pleasantly. My skills allow for incredibly fast charging. With both Merlin and a secondary Caster to charge Rhongomyniad, I am capable of using my Noble Phantasm three times in quick succession. The Master has acknowledged this but implies that I should wait until I am attuned to the mana I am provided before I use such a mana-intensive ability so many times in such a short period.

The logic is sound. Therefore I shall accept it.

None of the conversations around myself seemed to be able to catch my interest. It was strange. These are warriors. Creatures, entities and beings beyond human. And yet they discuss such mundane matters.

It is an entertaining thing to hear, however briefly it might be so.

Nothing more of relevance.

Entry 4

Master seems to have been informed that I made no attempt to close the tangible gap between myself and the other Heroic Spirits. I reasoned that such a thing was unnecessary. Our goals are aligned therefore trust is not an issue. They mention that I have not proven myself trustworthy yet. That is not unsound.

I shall endeavour to work harder.

Entry 5

I have been informed that a demonic curse has beget one of our allies, and that the purifying aura of Rhongomyniad shall assist.

I was directed to the medical office, where "Florence Nightingale" (of relevance. she shares our cadence, and likely our passion for logical maneuvres. a possible avenue regarding cooperation?) informed me that I was to act upon a dark-skinned shaved Heroic Spirit.

Of notice is that Nightingale was surprised by the operation. It is of note that Rhongomyniad is a spear, therefore it's purifying effects are intended for use against a demon. As such, an attack was the only way to purify it.

Nightingale was interestingly cooperative in these matters. I am glad. The frailties of mortal emotion are difficult to deal with.

I dislike crying.

Entry 6

I know not what day it is. However that is not the topic of this entry. Being regarded with sad eyes is strange, but luckily I found one who regarded me little to none at all. He, like I, scribbled in a diary that which he wanted to remember. I opened dialogue with him (I later questioned the Master, to find this man was a Counter Guardian, a position... one I do not find a man such as he would be keen on. His eyes are far too sad. Too weary.)

I was unaware cooks could hold so much steel in the eye, moreso than even my most trusted of knights. A testament either to their skill or their legend surely. Art is forged in the fire of adversity, and that person's sustenance is an art form unlike any I have laid eyes upon.

Irregardless the Alter and I briefly discussed things with one another.

The Master has taken notice however has yet to ask.

Entry 7

The Master has asked me if I would become "a 'Diary Buddy.'" with the Altered counter guardian. I am not opposed. Besides, it is a.. not uncomfortable title. I shall wear it with pride.

I have chosen to sit near him whenever the Master reminds me to return to the cafeteria (I have discovered anew a benefit to my memory faltering- being able to experience my highest form of joy multiple times. I am told that eating is when I am nearest to a smile.), an action that does not seem to be minded.

He questioned my reason to occupy the space near him. I informed him that it was because he is sufficient company. That reason has satisfied him.

.. With company, the food tastes sweeter. An interesting phenomenon.

Entry 8

I have made contact with the altered Saber class form of myself. She implied distaste with my ideals, that I would choose to sacrifice humanity's will to save it in a fleeting manner.

I admit. With complete impartiality (as I do not remember any of the events mentioned by this iteration of myself) an alternative seems far more appeasing. However I can understand the logic in preserving humanity in it's purest state.

Even besides that, my altered self (of which for convenience's sake shall be referred to, shorthand, as Saber Alter.) seemed quite displeased with me. A comment on it might have lead to vocal discourse, of which would have certainly led my routine astray. Therefore I let the conversation die and moved on.

Entry 9

I find myself uneasy. The Master has had myself and a Berserker, Asterios, investigate the lower levels of Chaldea. Rubble has closed off a section of the maintenance level. Unfortunate. I managed to find three survivors. The rest..

Asterios is, I believe, a teenager. He has little need of seeing such things. It would only serve to demoralize him, therefore create an unnecessary variable..

The feeling of weak flesh giving way to my strength.

It makes me uneasy.

Entry 10

After a shift rotation with Mash Kyrielight clearing out some of the rubble, old and new (A Demi-Servant with a passive Noble Phantasm, one that seemed to inspire maternal instincts if Boudica's actions were not the exception.) I roamed the halls and I found one of my favourite knights, Mordred, wandering the halls, sniffling sadly.

I questioned the boy, and he acted surprised. How strange. However brief he was my knight. Tis only natural I care a great deal for his wellbeing. He implied that, during a game of hide and seek, his father had left him alone to roam.

He refuses to disclose the identity of his father. Strangely I feel as if it beckons me, like honeyed words of a trickster. However still, I shall acquire his name.

Seeing the gallant Mordred, sniffling like a boy who had been scolded..

fills me with disgust at this so-called 'father.'"

(Chapter End)