Aboard the Norwegian Crown in the Mediterranean Sea; 32 days until the Fifth Grail War
"Could you perhaps be less smug? Just because you were right, you should not be this insufferable." Ilya pouted at her Servant, who simply chuckled at her. The albino waif's eyes narrowed as she studied the old warlord. "If you do not stop it and play nice, I'll have you swim laps around the ship, old turtle."
Sella winced at her ward's threat, and even Leysritt looked at Wrex warily when the krogan loomed over the diminutive Ilya, his eyes narrowed, stance radiating barely restrained fury. The slender maid started as she realized that the Servant's posture was just an empty gesture, and judging by the way Ilya's lips quirked, she too figured it out. Wrex leaned back, his rumbling chuckle relaxing all three homunculi.
"Nice one for a beginner, kid." The warlord's face turned serious. "Nevertheless, now you understand why I did not want you to take the established route and transport, right?"
Ilya sighed, dropping the newspaper, as she gestured towards Wrex.
"Yes, the Einzbern clan obviously has a security problem - well, more than one." She amended, glaring at her smug Servant. "Based on the scant information available, I do not think a Servant was behind this; unless..."
"Unless what?" The krogan's eyes narrowed. "Do you know which Servants have been summoned? Or who they are?"
Ilya cocked her head, concentrating inwards, communing with the parts of her that were the vessel of the Grail.
"Aside from you, Caster and … " She sighed, dropping her head on the table "Assassin. Of course." She raised her head a fraction, glaring at the warlord. "Still, there is basically no way that even Assassin could be responsible for blowing up the plane - I'm not questioning its ability, but the timing."
"Because obviously the other two early birds could never guess that the Einzbern would take part in another Grail War, right? It's not like your clan is ever involved, am I correct?"
"Just spit it out, Wrex." Ilya sighed, dropping her head again.
"I don't need to, you already know what I want to say." He reached out with a huge hand, and ruffled the albino's hair. "You've got a keen mind, when you decide to use it, girl."
"I will use a Command Seal to send you swimming laps, old fossil."
The satisfied, rumbling laugh of the dematerializing Servant rattled the cutlery of the cabin.
"I hate it when he does that, you know." Ilya's voice was in no way petulant and whiny.
"Yes, Mistress, I believe you mentioned it once or twice."
Ilya's eyes narrowed as she lifted her head and glared at Sella, who was standing with perfect posture and an impassive, serious face, then at Leysritt, who waved lazily from the deck chair before she leaned back to enjoy the sun. The young magus sighed again.
"He's even infecting my maids, whose minds are supposedly proof against external tampering."
Ireland, 28 day until the Fifth Grail War
The suit-clad Enforcer checked her equipment once more, paying special attention to the slim metal case housing her family legacy. She adjusted her gloves, satisfied with the fit and the status of the runic array woven into the material. The chosen catalyst for the summoning was already in the center of the summoning circle, attuned to both her and the array of symbols that would allow her to finally meet the legend she considered her personal hero and example.
With a shake of her head, she dispelled the bothersome thoughts; focus and calmness was needed here, if she were to succeed. The syllables of the old tongue reverberated on the clearing, both the summoning circle and the surrounding runes pulsing in time with her chanting - it may have been just her imagination, but it was almost as if someone was watching her with encouragement as she struggled with the almost-gone language. The runes surrounding the circle danced and shifted in dizzying patterns, motes of kaleidoscopic light flashing around the young woman as her voice rose to a crescendo, her mind calling for her childhood idol as her voice summoned a partner in battle.
The shifting runes stopped and flashed with a blinding light and Bazett closed her eyes for a split second, feeling the back of her hand heat up and prickle, as her circuits poured prana into the summoned being, and the bond flared into existence within her mind, a kaleidoscopic whirl of lightning-fast thoughts and perceptions rushing across her for a brief moment, before a calmness suffused the bond.
She opened her eyes, a small, eager smile on her lips as she looked towards the figure of her childhood tales. Surely, that inhuman reaction speed and situational awareness signified the Hound of Ulster, who stood in the middle of the circle, his ophidian eyes flickering rapidly as he studied the ritual circle.
Wait, what?
Bazett Fraga McRemitz blinked, then blinked again. Then once more, before she checked her hip flask, which was still full. She shook her head before circulating prana in her circuits, reinforcing her senses to ensure that she was not under an illusion or hallucinating.
No luck. She was awake, her mental and physical state unimpaired, her spellwork perfect - still, that was not Cu Chulainn before her!
The being looked like a biped lizard, its wrinkly skin likely a sign of age, while the missing cranial horn hinted at its ability to survive dangers. It looked frail, thin, yet there was something in its posture, the way it held itself with such inhuman control, almost like it was ready to snap into motion at any second to…
"Hm, female human, posture, body language indicating extensive martial training, clothes designed to blend in with current normal society. Also, fabric indicates reinforcement, likely for combat purposes." Blink-click. "Extra runes around summoning circle, showing marked familiarity with craft, injecting personal style, aptitude." Blink-click. "Assuredly I was not primary target for summoning, nevertheless am here, both have to deal with circumstances, however unfortunate. Will do best to support summoner in reaching aims." Flash-smile. "Not first time working with human female talented in combat. Did not disappoint then, will not disappoint now." Exhale. "Servant Lancer ready to support you."
Bazett Fraga McRemitz, Enforcer of the Clock Tower, heir to her clan's ancient mysteries and pedigree, well-versed in the weirdness of the Moonlit World, barely hesitated before voicing the most appropriate reaction to the Lancer-class Heroic Spirit she summoned as her partner for the Fifth Holy Grail War.
"What."