Fate: Hammer Time

by TedTheRabbit

Shirou Emiya wanted to become a hero. That was clear to all who truly know him. For a long time though, he lacked the power to actually achieve that goal. No longer. No longer will he lack the power, now that the Hammer of the Odinson has chosen him as new wielder. Prepare for Thunder. ShirouxMultiple, Thor-Shirou.

36. Grand Theft Imouto

Grand Theft Imouto

---

"Y-Yes! P-Please, take me home!"

Five words.

Five words that Illya had been wanting to say since her father and mother had left for Japan. Five words that expressed just how much she hated it at the Einzbern-castle, and how much she would prefer to be literally anywhere else.

It didn't matter that she barely knew Emiya Shirou, or that she barely had an idea of where she would be going. It didn't matter whether he lived in a proper home or in just a hovel. As long as there were people there that loved her and provided warmth, it would be infinitely superior to the Einzbern-castle, with its cold halls and colder inhabitants.

After all, home was not some fixed location. Home was where the heart lied, and Illya had lived for far too long in a place where her heart definitely didn't lie.

The Einzbern-castle, dreary and depressing, had barely been bearable when her parents had still lived there with her, but when the Grail War had started, and her parents had left, it had changed very quickly into an outright prison instead of a barely acceptable home.

At the beginning though, Illya had not given up on the castle yet. She'd held out hope that her parents would return, and that they would bring back the warmth she was so sorely missing in their absence.

Then, her grandfather had brought her the news that her mother was dead, and that her father had betrayed the Einzbern and had left them forever. Her dreams of being a happy family again had been shattered beyond repair by his cruel words, and Illya had wept for weeks when she realised the Einzbern-castle would never be a home again.

It had been even worse to hear that her father had adopted a new child, a son, and had made a home with him instead of her. She had been replaced in her father's heart.

Still, she had hoped. She had hoped that her father would come for her and take her with him. Even if he had another child, he still loved her, she was certain of it.

Eight years had passed however, without a single sign from her father. Eventually, Illya concluded that he had to have forgotten her now that he had a new son, one that was purely his, not a stupid Homunculus that he had to share with others.

Illya had hated that son. She had hated him with the passion of a thousand suns. Every bit of anger, grief, and hate that she should have felt towards her parents for abandoning her and towards the Einzbern for abusing her was aimed at that boy. It was easy to hate him, and grandfather had only encouraged it.

She wanted to crush him. She wanted to obliterate every facet of him. To grind his bones into dust, to feed his organs to the wolves, to take his head with her as a trophy, and erase every memory of him. She wanted to make him feel the pain that she had felt for so long.

In her mind, she could just picture him. A black-haired, black-eyed, younger version of Emiya Kiritsugu, with an incredible natural talent for assassination, with all the characteristics and talents that their father wanted in a son, that made their father love him more than her.

Her every waking moment had been haunted by that spectre of her father's perfect son. He was always there, standing just behind her, smirking confidently, secure in the knowledge that Kiritsugu preferred him over her.

She wanted to punch the teeth out of that smug mouth!

Even the creation of Sella and Leysritt, her beloved maids, did very little to stem her hate for him. The two maids had turned the Einzbern-castle a bit more into a home again, now that Illya had people who she cared for and who cared about her in return, but her rage toward the thief, towards the one who had stolen the home that could have been hers, remained.

It seemed as if that was how things were fated to be, with the sister hating the brother for things beyond his control, but then, suddenly, something had happened to change that. Someone had interfered to change Illya's fate.

She had been granted a visit from her parents, in her dreams. From beyond the grave, they had spoken with her, and had been able to settle her raging emotions and heal her broken heart.

Illya still had no idea how it was possible, how dead people could suddenly appear in her dreams with such clarity, but it had happened. Irisviel and Kiritsugu had visited her, and with that visit, everything had become clear.

Her father hadn't betrayed the Einzbern. He had been betrayed by the Einzbern. The Einzbern, who had not listened for a second to his reasons for destroying the Grail, and who had done their very best to turn Illya against her father to make sure she would still remain their little puppet and fulfil her role of becoming a vessel for the Lesser Grail.

Kiritsugu hadn't abandoned her. He had wanted to save her, to make her part of his family again, but grandfather had stopped him, and he didn't have the strength to break into the castle anymore because of that damned cup.

The boy he had adopted wasn't a perfect younger version of Kiritsugu, who was unbearably smug about having been chosen by their father. He was a victim of the butchery that was the Grail War, just like her, one who had desperately needed help and had gotten it from their father.

Emiya Shirou. That was his name. It was the name of her father's son, and her little brother, though with how she looked and how old she felt, it was perhaps better to call him her big brother.

And he was coming to save her.

Her father had been completely certain of it. Her big brother would come for her, without fail. He would rescue her from the hell that was the Einzbern-castle, and he would take her home. To a place where she would actually be loved.

It was that knowledge, that pinprick of hope, that had allowed Illya to keep her mind intact, instead of giving in to the murderous impulses and becoming a tool of vengeance who was out for bloody revenge on a boy who had never done anything to her and wished her nothing but the best.

Illya did not like how close she'd gotten to going down the second path. It would have made her first meeting with her brother… difficult, to say the least, and she didn't even want to think about the meetings following that first one.

Anyway, she had waited, now completely confident that someone would come to save her, and lo and behold, here he was, in her room, only a few short months after she'd spoken with her parents.

Emiya Shirou stood before her in the flesh. He wasn't a dream, he wasn't an illusion, he wasn't some cruel trick from her grandfather, he was really there, and Illya could finally say the words she had longed to say for so long.

"T-Take me home, S-Shirou. I-I want to leave t-this place."

Illya wished she could have kept her voice from stuttering, that she could have remained as cool and calm as her brother, but the massive mixture of emotions she was feeling overwhelmed her. At this point, it was difficult enough to stop herself from bawling like a baby, never mind keep her voice perfectly even.

It didn't matter anyway. Unlike the rest of her family, who would have punished her for every loss of control they witnessed and every crack in her elegant façade they could find, her big brother didn't twitch a single muscle at her stutter, rather he kept smiling at her, probably not even thinking about her lapse.

Just like their father.

"I couldn't agree more. Let's get out of here and go home immediately." Shirou nodded, before casting a look around the room. "It doesn't seem like anyone has noticed my entrance yet, but there is little sense in taking unnecessary risks by staying longer than we need to."

"Uh, y-yeah." Illya agreed. She would have said more, but she was slightly preoccupied by the fact her brother was acting like he could see through the walls, something that should only be possible with Mystic Eyes, powerful Mystic Eyes.

Well, that, or Pure Eyes, but those didn't occur in humans.

"I'm sorry for being so abrupt, but since we're sort of in enemy territory right now, it's better if we left at once." Shirou noted, taking a step forward and holding out his arms to take hold of her. "Don't worry, we'll talk more when we're safely back in my… 'base'. Now, I have a foolproof plan to get us out of here-"

"Wait!" Illya held up her hands to stop him from coming closer, resolutely preventing him from continuing. "We can't leave yet!"

"We can't?" Shirou cocked his head in confusion at her statement, but he obediently stepped back from her and lowered his arms again. "Is this about your stuff? If so, you don't need to worry about it. We can just take it with us."

"It's not about my stuff, I do not care about most of it, though I would appreciate it nevertheless if you took some of the more important things with you." Illya rambled, before shaking her head to regain some focus. "It's about my maids."

And that was the crux of the matter. The biggest reason why Illya didn't want to leave immediately.

Of course, her possessions were important to her as well, at least some of them. She had thought about leaving them all behind when Shirou came to take her away, but while she couldn't care less about most of the furniture or the overly elaborate dresses in her closet, she'd found that she did want to take her hairbrush, one of the small mirrors by her bedside, and several other small items that meant a lot to her.

Some of them had belonged to her parents, others had been gifts, others she just liked a lot, but they all had emotional value, and she'd be loath to leave them behind.

However, even those emotionally valuable items were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to Illya's faithful maids.

Sella and Leysritt.

Her honorary big sister and honorary little sister respectively. The only people who had shown her a shred of kindness over the past eight years since her parents had left. The only people in the entirety of the Einzbern-castle that she didn't want to lose.

If Illya would ever have to choose between her maids or her possessions, she'd set fire to the possessions herself with a smile and a laugh. Sella and Leysritt were infinitely more important to her than any materialistic property could ever be.

Thus, even though she knew it was wiser and strategically sounder to immediately leave the castle, and even though she knew she was making her brother's life harder with her selfishness, she couldn't leave just yet.

Not before Sella and Leysritt were there with them.

"Your maids?" Shirou still looked confused, her short explanation not having made things much clearer for him.

"Sella and Leysritt. My personal Homunculus-maids." Illya nodded emphatically, pressing her hands together and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. "They were always really nice to me, and I love them; can we please take them with us when we go?"

Illya knew she was asking for a lot. The Einzbern-castle, for all that she despised it, was an incredibly well-defended place. More than a thousand years' worth of Bounded Fields and other Magical defences surrounded and permeated the area, and dozens upon dozens of combat-Homunculi stood ready to vanquish any invader who survived more than a few seconds within those Bounded Fields.

That her brother had managed to break in unnoticed was a spectacular achievement, one that boggled Illya's mind and defied her every expectation. Undoubtedly, it had cost him immense effort and a great amount of time.

And even then, every second spent inside the castle held the risk of being discovered. It would only take one check up on Illya's room to blow the whole mission to save her to pieces, which meant all of Shirou's hard work would be for nothing.

In such circumstances, it was utterly insane to stay in the castle to wait for two Homunculi. Two fake people who could easily be replaced by identical new ones. To take such risks for mere puppets was ridiculous, and Illya was prepared to receive a harsh refusal.

She would argue with everything she had, but she also knew she was at a great disadvantage. Shirou was risking his life by breaking in, and every moment he remained in the room only increased the danger. He had every right to refuse her request and take her away at once.

What had she expected? That he would just nod to her request and immediately start making-

"Sure." Shirou nodded with a pensive look in his eyes. "It will be a bit difficult to go out and find them on such short notice, but I should be able to do it."

"…Really?"

Illya did not dare believe her ears. Had he really…? Did he just…?

"Yes, of course." Her brother nodded again, looking for all the world as if it was obvious that he would accept her request. "If you want me to take them with us, then I'll take them with us."

'But that is impossible!' Illya wanted to shout, but her sheer relief over his easy acceptance and the immense confidence that he radiated prevented her from saying a single word.

"Do you have any idea where they are?" Her brother continued, taking another look around the room, and this time, Illya was absolutely sure he was looking through the walls. "There are a lot of Homunculi around in this place, and since I don't know what… Sella and Leysritt, look like precisely, I cannot find them."

"I-I don't know where they are." Illya brought out with some difficulty, as her mind was still stuck at the part where he had accepted her request without a single word of protest.

"I see." Her brother frowned in thought, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, before he began thinking out loud. "Let's see. Since I don't know who they are, I'll have to take you with me to identify them during the search. I don't like the idea of exposing you to such danger, but I don't think a description of their physical features would be enough to find and identify them, considering they're Homunculi, like most other beings in this place. I could try to follow their scents, but there are so many Homunculus-scents around it is hard to keep track of them all, not to mention I don't know what they smell like to begin with. Perhaps if I-"

"They'll come to my room." Illya interrupted him when she caught up to what was going on. "We just have to wait for them. They'll be here soon."

"Really?"

"Yes. They always come to my room after they've finished their chores. They help me clean, they brush my hair, help me train, and keep me company."

"Well, that makes things a lot easier." Her brother smiled, looking even more confident than before. "If we can just wait here, there shouldn't be any problems whatsoever."

"But the Bounded Fields-"

"Don't notice me." He finished her sentence with a careless wave of his hand, and however much Illya wanted to protest, the fact that no single alarm had sounded yet despite his presence in her room supported his claim.

"Then what about if someone comes to visit me?" She continued her questioning. "Someone who isn't Sella and Leysritt?"

It was unlikely, considering no one except her maids ever visited her room aside from her grandfather once in a blue moon, but you never knew.

"Then I'll hide. I'm good at that." Shirou's smile didn't falter, and he looked at her door. "Though perhaps I need to make my own warning system, to make sure we aren't caught off guard."

Her brother then waved his hand again, a sense of power filling the room, and before Illya's astounded eyes, an array of Runes formed over her door. The array was more complicated than any other she'd ever seen, even in the ancient books on Runes, yet Shirou had created it as if it was nothing but a trifle.

He hadn't even drawn them, he'd just gestured, and they appeared by themselves. She had known that he was a very skilled Magus, but this went way beyond that. That was a trick worthy of the ancient Rune Masters of the Celts.

Was Shirou actually a descendant of the Celtic Gods? Was that possible?

"That array will notify us of anyone approaching this room." Shirou nodded in satisfaction, before gesturing at a chair in the corner of the room. "May I?"

"Of course." Illya nodded automatically, focusing on him again, the Runic Array quickly slipping from her mind as she remembered she had far more important things to think about.

Things like finally getting to know her big brother, not as a psychotic tool of vengeance, like her grandfather had wanted, but as the well-raised and well-mannered daughter of Irisviel von Einzbern.

She had a reputation of a high-class scion to uphold, and though she'd rather flubbed on that so far, she had every intention of doing it right from now on. Her mother hadn't raised her to be a boor, no sir.

As Shirou took his chair to the middle of the room and sat down, Illya quickly grabbed her own, tailor-made chair –comfortable and imposing, yet small enough for her to sit on– and placed it opposite of him, so she could look him in the eyes while they talked.

Only then they didn't talk, but rather looked at each other in silence. A silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, as Shirou seemed unable to decide where to begin and Illya just had no clue what to say at all.

Don't get her wrong, she didn't want things to be awkward between them, she very much wanted to get along with him, but what did one say to a brother they had never met in their life? One they had once hated for so long and who was now here to rescue them?

"As I said before, my name is Emiya Shirou." Her brother eventually spoke up first, and Illya eagerly perked up, glad that he was taking the initiative. "Though I should warn you that I call myself Shirou Fujimaru at the Clocktower. Using our real name would be… inadvisable."

"Because of dad's…" Illya began, before trailing off slowly, not sure what she should call it.

"Because of dad's infamy, indeed." Shirou filled in for her, and she nodded gratefully.

"Alright, I'll keep it in mind. But then, what should I call myself?" Illya asked curiously, a number of aliases going through her mind, most of them taken from her books and series. "Fujimaru as my last name of course, but I can't call myself Illya, can I? That's a very recognisable name, so perhaps I can be Lily? Or Pauline? Rosanna maybe?"

"If everything goes well, you won't have to introduce yourself to anyone in the Clocktower at all." Shirou shook his head, his eyes shining with mirth at her suggestions. "Which is for the best, considering your…"

"My Homunculus looks." Illya finished his sentence for him, noticing he seemed unsure whether he could mention that, and he nodded in response. "So, if I understand you correctly, we won't be going to the Clocktower?"

"No, I will in fact be going back to the Clocktower after we escape from here, and you will come with me, but you won't be visible." Shirou explained, the small smile on his face giving Illya a foreboding feeling. "I'll show you what I have planned for that once your maids arrive. I guarantee you'll like it."

"O-kay." Illya agreed hesitantly, wondering what he was up to with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. "But after you're done at the Clocktower, will we go home?"

"Yes, we will." Shirou nodded immediately. "I just have to finish a few things in London, and then we will go to Fuyuki, which is where I've lived for the past eight years. I have a house there, dad brought it for us after he adopted me, so it's your house too. I should warn you though that I have other housemates as well, so please try to get along with them."

"The purple-haired girl and the brunette girl, right?" Illya asked, remembering what her dreams had shown her.

"…Yes." Her brother frowned heavily at her words, and Illya realised there should have been no way for her to know about those girls. "How did you know? Are the Einzbern-?"

"No! No, they are not watching you." She assured him quickly. "Believe me, they can't watch you, as in, they are physically unable to. There has been a lot of grumbling about that, but they can't. They had a hell of a time even just trying to figure out your name, and they haven't been able to do anything more than that."

"Then how do you know about Ayako and Sakura?"

"I dreamt about it."

Illya spilled the beans just like that, prompted by her brother's obvious concern for his girlfriends.

There were a few moments of complete silence following her declaration, and Illya realised yet again how silly she had to sound. But, instead of rejecting her words, as she had expected, Shirou leaned forward slightly, again accepting her rambling as the truth without hesitation.

"Can you elaborate?" He requested, looking very serious.

So that was what she did. She told him about Kiritsugu and Irisviel visiting her in her dreams several months ago, and how they had talked about everything they could think of, including Shirou, and how she was being regularly updated through her dreams on how Shirou was doing, which was how she'd known he would be coming for her, even if she was unaware about most of the details.

By the end of her tale, her brother had leaned back in his chair again, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something about 'meddling aliens'. He remained like that for a moment, before he visibly pushed the subject out of his mind.

"Alright, any strange dreams aside, I'm glad to hear that the Einzbern haven't been able to gather any information about me." He sighed, before giving her a small smile. "And I am even more happy that you got to speak with your parents again. Also, I must say that it's quite convenient that you know so much about me already. Saves me some time having to explain things."

"It's not like I know a lot." She protested, giving him a low-level pout, one that served to express sadness rather than to convince someone to do something for her, like a high-level pout would have. "Actually, I know almost nothing about you, Shirou."

Her pouts worked wonders with Sella and Leysritt, and it turned out to be very effective against her brother as well.

"Ah… D-Don't worry, I'll tell you everything you want to know." He assured her immediately, looking slightly panicked at her expression.

"You will!?" Instantly dropping her pout, Illya beamed up at her big brother.

"Of course." He quickly assured her, looking immensely relieved that she was no longer pouting sadly. "Eh, but where to start?"

"How about you start with your girlfriends?" Illya began leadingly, feeling the natural curiosity every little sister has for her big brother's lovers, even if she couldn't place that feeling yet. "And then you can tell me about your life with dad?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." He agreed easily enough, happy to have her opinion on the matter. "Hm, but should I tell you about…?"

"About what?" She prompted, but for the first time in their conversation, he ignored her.

Then he looked back at her with a determined look in his eyes.

"Alright, I have decided. We'll do it as you suggested, and after that, I will tell you about Mjolnir."

"Mjolnir?" Illya blinked in confusion. "What does the hammer of Thor have to do with anything?"

"I'll explain later." Shirou waved her question away, before he began his tale.

And Illya forgot all about his strange words as she eagerly listened to her brother's stories about his girlfriends and about his life with their father.

---

"CROWN!"

The enraged screech cut straight through the peaceful atmosphere that had been present before at the small shrine, and Merem Solomon, twentieth of the Dead Apostle Ancestors, also known as 'Crown', sighed deeply as his peaceful meditation was interrupted by the one being who he couldn't bodily throw out of his happy place.

There were other beings who he couldn't, and wouldn't, bodily throw of course, but none of those beings would deign to visit him at his personal shrine, located deep in the catacombs of Kraków.

There were only a few people who knew he could be found there at times, and only one of those people could screech like that.

"Hello, Gransurg." He kindly greeted the immense black bird that was now perched on the shoulder of a statue of the Lady Maria, turning his head around slightly, though he remained kneeled before the cross. "There was no need to shout. I was meditating."

"You were nodding off." The bird, Gransurg Blackmore, sixteenth of the Dead Apostle Ancestors, corrected him in a much softer tone than before. "I called your name six times, but you didn't notice."

"…I didn't? Ahahahaha." Merem laughed sheepishly, knowing he'd been caught in a lie. "Do forgive me, old friend."

The bird didn't react to being called friend, and instead clacked its beak once to acknowledge and accept Merem's apology.

"What brings you here?" Merem continued the conversation. "You normally avoid shrines like a human does the plague."

"I was searching for you." The bird replied darkly, casting an annoyed glare around Merem's humble abode. "And since you are in a shrine, it means I am too, no matter how much I might dislike it."

"Searching for me? Why? Did you truly miss me that much-?"

"You missed the gathering of Ancestors nine days ago." The bird's eyes shone with an emotion Merem could not quite place. "The others were most displeased, as was I. You were sent countless invitations and reminders, and I impressed on you many times that it was important you attend, yet you were not there."

"I had other things on my mind." Merem easily dismissed Gransurg's complaints, and the bird let out a 'tsk' in return. "Please just give me the rundown of the meeting. Did you discuss anything interesting? Anything new?"

"That depends. Have you already heard about the mundane Dead Apostles that ran amok across Europe over the past months?"

Merem stilled, and then gave his friend an odd look, feeling confusion bubble up to the surface of his mind.

And with that confusion came delight, for confusion meant something new, and something new meant that things were finally getting interesting again.

And Merem did so crave interesting things, for they allowed him to more effectively fight his greatest enemy, the greatest enemy of all Dead Apostle Ancestors.

That greatest enemy wasn't the Church, or the Magus Association, or even other Dead Apostles. They were all annoying, and many Ancestors had been killed or Sealed away by those three factors, but they weren't the nemeses of the Ancestors.

There was only one thing constantly on Merem's mind. There was only one thing that almost every Ancestor struggled with daily. A thing that was the bane of their existence.

Their greatest and most hated enemy, the one that was eternal and almost impossible for them to defeat, no matter how much power they had. In fact, being older and more powerful was actually only a detriment against this enemy.

For what were power and age when one fought against total and utter boredom.

After having lived for a thousand years, there was very little left in the world that could hold Merem's interest. He'd seen everything, heard everything, done everything, and experienced everything. These days, it was only his work for the Church that prevented him from going bonkers from being so incredibly bored all the time.

After he'd passed two hundred years of age, things had just gotten progressively bleaker as the years went by, and by the time his eight hundredth birthday had come around, he'd been travelling the entire world on a weekly basis in progressively desperate attempts to find things to alleviate his constant boredom.

He had thought that the modern times might hold some interesting baubles, with their machines and their 'internet', but he'd been wrong. All their stories, all their games, all their other entertainment, it was all just more of the same, more dull nonsense that he'd seen a million times before.

The plot of the stories never changed, the games were all the same, people still behaved exactly like their ancestors had always done before them.

There had been no end to his suffering.

So when Gransurg suddenly threw something at him that came completely out of the left field, something that Merem had always believed to be impossible, he couldn't suppress the utter delight that exploded in his breast.

Being a thousand-year-old creature however, he kept his composure intact, and he didn't show anything on the outside except for a single lifted eyebrow, prompting his friend to explain further.

"Dead Apostles made from mundane people." The bird cawed, seeing Merem's lifted eyebrow. "I am aware that it sounds impossible, considering it goes against everything we know of the Crimson Moon's Blessing, but no one can deny that such creatures exist now. They have somehow bypassed the usual requirement of having to be able to channel Magical Energy in order to become one of us, and obtained our Master's Blessing anyway."

Merem flinched when their Lord and Master, the Crimson Moon, also known as the Lord Brunestud, was mentioned, for that name still carried many emotions, but he quickly regained control and considered what his friend had just told him.

"That is… news." He eventually spoke, unable to decide whether it was good news or bad news and thus not making such a judgement at all. "How?"

"Magi." Gransurg replied, spitting the word out as if it was a curse. "Magi and their treacherous crafts. They have invaded the sacred domain of our Master and attempted to corrupt the Blessing he has bestowed upon us."

"Hah! I never get tired of hearing you complain about Magi." Merem laughed merrily, slapping his hands on his knees. "Considering you were one yourself once."

Gransurg Blackmore had been a Magus before he became an Apostle, one who had destroyed himself with his own foolhardy experiments. It had only been a timely intervention from the Lord Brunestud that had prevented his soul from being destroyed completely, and Gransurg now worshipped his saviour, and had done so for the past thousand years.

Again, the bird did not react to Merem's jest –he'd heard it a thousand times before– and instead continued his explanation.

"I know not how these Magi achieved this, nor do I care. All I know is that they did, and that their… their fake Apostles roamed the world for a short while, until they were put down by the Church and the Magus Association."

"Huh, all of them? Already?" Merem, who had still been giggling slightly, sobered up quickly once he heard that. "Are they particularly weak? If they have been destroyed so quickly and decisively?"

"They were unstable." Gransurg corrected him. "They attacked everything in sight, attracted far too much attention, and drew their hunters straight towards them. They had no idea what was going on, and it led them to their deaths."

"I see. Well, that's only to be expected then. Although it remains a terrible pity that I was not able to observe their existence myself." Merem huffed, folding his hands below his chin in thought. "Then again, I have been so terribly busy these days, so even if I'd known about them, I might not have been able to do anything. Why, just the other week, I had to lend… I had to… I…"

"Crown?" Gransurg flapped his wings in uncertainty when Merem fell silent.

"…I have been tricked, Gransurg." Merem spoke up again after a moment, his tone flat and monotonous. "I've been tricked into helping the Church hunt down these mundane Dead Apostles."

"Hm?" A bird cocking its head might normally not have meant very much, but when the bird was Gransurg, it was a clear indication of curiosity.

"Krystine came to me last week to complain about particularly troublesome Dead Apostles, and I had my left arm hunt down these troublemakers for her." Merem pouted, feeling very duped by his superior, even though he knew she realistically didn't have any way to know she was deceiving him. "The King of Rats worked so hard to find these troublemakers, and now it turns out he was helping them remove these new mundane Dead Apostles, a potential source of interest for me. I am deeply shocked!"

"Be glad about it." Gransurg snapped, irritation entering his voice again. "These mundane Dead Apostles are a heresy towards the work of the Crimson Moon."

"A heresy?" Merem grinned, very much enjoying his friend's choice of words. "Are you certain you are not the one working for the Burial Agency? You certainly speak like one of their priests."

"Not only did these Magi dare presume they could improve upon the designs of the Crimson Moon, but they also threatened to ruin the Ancestors." Gransurg ignored Merem with practised ease as he continued his rant. "If their actions had caused immense numbers of Dead Apostles to flood the lands, it would have depleted our food source in no time, and it would have torn the power bases apart. It would have been a disaster."

"But so, so interesting to behold and experience." Merem pouted again, enjoying how Gransurg squawked in outrage over his statement.

Merem knew he was being difficult and unreasonable, and that Gransurg was right in that it was better for them all if the mundane Dead Apostles were exterminated, but he was just so bored that he couldn't help but regret their extermination anyway.

It was at times like this that he really envied his friend, because Gransurg seemed to have the ability to never feel bored, no matter how little there was to do. He was able to amuse himself perfectly well even while doing something he'd done a million times before.

Boredom did not seem to exist in Gransurg's mind, and Merem envied him for it.

"So I am grateful that you helped hunt these interlopers down." The bird finished his little rant, glaring at Merem with some vindictive pleasure. "I was already considering ways to assist the Burial Agency myself, but if you have already dealt with it so quickly, I can rest easy."

"Please don't remind me of that!" Merem whined, and if Dead Apostles could have cried, he would have wept bitter tears of regret.

"Though the Magi responsible for this travesty are still at large, and they could create more abominations if they are left unchecked."

Merem perked up at the news, feeling hope bloom again.

"You mean more mundane Apostles might be created?"

"Not if it is up to me." Gransurg hissed. "I will hunt those Magi down no matter what, before they can make more of their eyesores. Ortenrosse, Van-Fem, and Svelten agree with me, and have promised their support should I need it."

"Ah…" Against such an alliance, even Merem did not wish to test his luck. Especially considering that it spanned over the usual faction lines of Altrouge and Ortenrosse. "Very well. I'll just have to enjoy the violence you'll unleash then. Oh, and by the way, can I ask how you found out about the existence of these mundane Dead Apostles? Even I was in the dark, and I have apparently been very involved with them."

"I have a source, one who is most capable." Gransurg said mysteriously. "I will not provide more details about them, but you can believe me when I say that very trustworthy people have discovered and verified the existence of mundane Apostles. They too are preparing to destroy those responsible for their creation."

"It seems like everyone but me hates them then." Merem concluded sadly. "Fine, I know when I'm beat. Just go out and destroy them."

"I will." Gransurg couldn't grin evilly in his bird-form, but he made a very good attempt. "I will destroy their lairs, drag those Magi outside, and I will make them beg for a swift end as I teach them why defying the Crimson Moon was a fool's errant!"

"Brutal." Merem grinned, throwing in some modern jargon.

"Are you not inclined to help?"

"Wanton destruction ceased being interesting centuries ago." Merem shrugged, not feeling the least bit prompted to help out. Violence for any purpose had just lost its shine after the nth massacre he had committed, and the screaming got very tiresome after a while. "These days, I just advise a bit. The Burial Agency would like me to fight for them, but I only provide information."

"How funny that you should say that." Gransurg zeroed in on the last sentence Merem had spoken, and the atmosphere in the shrine became considerably heavier as the bird visibly became angry again. "That was actually the second thing I wanted to talk about."

"Aside from the mundane Dead Apostles?"

"Yes." The bird turned its head, and then spread its wings, giving the impression of being about to descend on Merem to peck his eyes out, and Gransurg's voice became low and threatening. "Is it true you revealed the existence of the Aylesbury ritual to the Church?"

"The Aylesbury-?"

"The ritual to awaken the Dark Six! The great gathering of ancestors! The moment when we revive the first of our kind! He who is the conduit through which the Crimson Moon shall return to lead us again!" The bird screeched in rage, a fire igniting in the black eyes. "You told the Church about it! You gave them the means to combat the ritual!"

"Ah, that." Merem snapped his fingers when he realised what his friend was referring to. "Yes, I did tell the Church about that. You see, they already figured out that the Ancestors were working on something big, and somehow, they also determined that I knew about it. So when they asked me, I sort of had to give them the answers they wanted. They might not have trusted me anymore if I did not."

"Trusted you?!" The raven spluttered. "Asinine! They should not trust you! You are their natural enemy!"

"We are not having this discussion again." Merem told his friend firmly. He knew Gransurg disapproved of his close relationship with the Church. They had talked about Merem's decision to join the Burial Agency many times before, culminating in hours upon hours of arguing, yet neither had budged, and the boyish vampire was growing extremely tired of it.

"The Aylesbury ritual is our best chance of reawakening our Master." The bird continued as if he hadn't heard Merem, and to be honest, he probably hadn't. "And you gave our enemies the means to ruin it! Are you no longer loyal to the Crimson Moon, Merem?"

"Watch your tongue!" For the first time since the conversation began, Merem felt the stirrings of anger in his breast, and he rose to his feet, turning around sharply to fully face his accuser. "I am just as loyal to him as you are, perhaps even more. He is my idol, my role model. I have never loved and will never love anyone or anything as much as I love him."

The bird stilled again as Merem's words rang true, and both Ancestors stared at each other, each putting enough power in their glare to knock out a fully-grown man in an instant.

"Very well." Gransurg was the first to break the silence. "Even though I am not happy about how you express your loyalty, I shall accept your words as the truth."

The manner of expressing loyalty to the Crimson Moon had long been a point of contention between him and Merem.

Gransurg believed that they, the Ancestors, should purely be loyal to their Master, and that loyalty was all they should feel. There should be no love, no envy, and no ambition involved. They were naught but extensions of the Crimson Moon's will, and they should behave the part as well.

Merem on the other hand considered the Crimson Moon as an idol, an ideal to strive towards. He believed that they followed the Lord Brunestud because he would lead them onto a path that would allow them to become like him. In Merem's view, they had to love him, envy him, strive to be like him, and much more.

In the beginning, Merem and Gransurg had been so at odds that they had promised to kill each other once their Master was back, to decide whose way was better, but in recent years, both had mellowed out enough that they had chosen to let their Master pick who he liked better, without the need for internal strife.

It was better if their Master had two Servants instead of one after all.

"But even if your loyalty is true, that still doesn't explain why you revealed the existence of the Aylesbury ritual to the Church." Gransurg continued, focusing again on Merem's crime against Apostle-kind. "You made our mission far more difficult."

"The Aylesbury ritual requires a sacrifice." Merem said calmly, deciding that was as good a reason as any. "I ensured the sacrifice will come to us on that night."

"We already have a sacrifice." Gransurg protested.

"It might not be enough. Because of me, the entirety of the Church's forces, as well as those of the Magus Association, will come to the ritual by themselves, which means we can sacrifice them and ensure the ritual succeeds."

"It was not necessary, we already have a sacrifice." Gransurg insisted, before he let out a sigh, which, since he was a bird, sounded more like a croak. "You are not being truthful, Merem. Please, tell me the real reason."

"…Alright, fine." Merem huffed, crossing his arms petulantly as he was again called out on a lie. "I told the Church about the ritual because I indeed want it to fail. I do not like the Dark Six, and I don't want that thing to return."

"Merem." Gransurg frowned, but he wasn't as angry as before. "None of us like the Dark Six, but we need him. He is the one who will revive the Crimson Moon."

"Or so he says." Merem scoffed, having very strong doubts about that. "I don't believe a word of it. He wants to rule us himself, and I will not stand by and let that happen."

"The Crimson Moon-"

"There are other ways to revive our Master, ways that may take longer but are far more reliable. I am already pursuing those ways, instead of having to trust the Eartheater."

Gransurg let out a hissing noise at the term Merem had chosen to use. 'Eartheater' was one of the titles of the Dark Six, but it was one that the Dark Six hated with a passion. Calling him that was nothing short of an insult.

"I do understand though that the ritual will continue despite my opinion of it." Merem then sighed, holding up the metaphorical white flag. "Even if I manage to convince you of my point of view, the other Ancestors will certainly not listen to me, and that is fine, I often don't listen to them either."

"You certainly don't." Gransurg grumbled.

"So you know what, Gransurg? Seeing that I cannot stop the Aylesbury ritual anyway, I promise that I will behave properly from now on, and that I will stop trying to sabotage the ritual. Don't be surprised though when I don't give it my all and my contribution is low."

"…Very well." Gransurg eventually bowed his head in acceptance. "I can't blame you for your distaste of the Dark Six. Just give me your guarantee that when the moment comes that the Crimson Moon's resurrection is near, whether that is through the Dark Six or one of your other ways, you will turn against the Church and join us."

"Of course I will." Merem nodded instantly, not even having to consider it. "My 'friends' of the Burial Agency are nothing more than a fun pastime. The Crimson Moon is my Lord and Master."

"Good. That is good to hear." The raven nodded his head, a faint note of relief in his voice. "I would have hated to have to declare you a traitor after all I went through to prevent that label from being assigned to you during the conference."

"Traitor?"

"Ortenrosse wanted to kill you when he heard that you told the Church about the ritual. I only just managed to convince him not to." The beady eyes gave Merem a disturbingly human glare, and a chill went down the boyish Ancestor's spine at the news that the King of the Dead Apostles had almost decided to hunt him down. "I won't go through all that effort again. Make sure to consider your actions more carefully in the future."

"I will." Merem promised immediately. He might like interesting events, but having the White Wing Lord out for his blood was a little too interesting even for him. "I have no intention of dying just yet. Oh, and Gransurg, thank you for saving my life."

"I didn't do it for you." Gransurg snapped back, flapping his wings in irritation. "You are still too useful to lose. Your aid will be of great value to complete the Aylesbury ritual, or for the next steps if the ritual fails. I only did it because it would benefit our Lord and Master."

"You forgot to add 'baka', you big tsundere." Merem smiled, remembering once more why he considered the bird to be his dearest friend.

Never one to consume any kind of modern entertainment, Gransurg didn't know what a tsundere was, and though Merem had called him such before, he had never felt particularly motivated to find out what it meant either.

He was sure it was some kind of insult, but in light of that, it was perhaps better not to know.

As such, the sixteenth gave a last screech from his beak –screeching just felt nice when he was in his bird-form– and then left again, off to destroy some foolish Magi for having committed the sin of tampering with his Master's creation.

Merem watched his friend fly away, and then turned back to the cross that stood before him, sinking back to his knees.

He didn't pray to the Lord –that would be rather audacious after so openly plotting to destroy humanity– but instead spoke some words to the Moon.

His true Master.

---

"And that is how I ended up with two girlfriends." Shirou finished his story. "It's a bit of an odd situation, I know, but we're happy together."

Over the past twenty minutes, Shirou had been talking pretty much non-stop, with Illya only interrupting now and then to ask a short question or two.

In that time, he had mainly told Illya about their father. He had told her about the years he and Kiritsugu had spent together, about what Shirou had learned from him –which he would teach to Illya in turn, if she wanted him to–, how much the man had missed his daughter, and of course Kiritsugu's final moments, in which he had asked his son to save his daughter from her imprisonment at the hands of her family.

Needless to say, Illya had become misty-eyed again after he'd told her of their father's death. She hadn't cried, but she came close to it.

Seeing that, Shirou had quickly moved on to a happier subject, and told her about how he'd met Sakura and Ayako, how he had gotten closer to them over time, how he had killed Sakura's evil grandfather –he had skipped some details there– and how the three of them had eventually gotten together.

It was enough to fill twenty minutes of talking, but ultimately, it wasn't even all that much information about his life.

Then again, Illya was probably much more interested in her father and in the people whom she'd be living together with than she was in his combat-history. Stories about Mjolnir and vigilantism and what not could come later, when they were safe.

It did feel a bit weird, doing all this talking now, inside Illya's room in the Einzbern-castle, instead of fleeing immediately, or at least heading to a safer place, but they were waiting for Illya's maids, and staying where they were and letting the maids come to them was the best plan they currently had.

And since they were forced to stay put anyway, they might as well have a conversation, and spend some time together like a brother and sister were supposed to, even if it was in odd circumstances.

"Sakura and Ayako sound like amazing people." Illya professed after he finished his story, giving him a beaming smile. "I can't wait to meet them and get to know them."

Shirou smiled back at her, feeling relieved that it seemed so far that there would be no problems between her and his girlfriends. It would have been very difficult if they didn't get along, considering they'd have to live together from now on.

Then again, the three of them hadn't actually met yet, so perhaps he shouldn't rejoice too soon. They might decide they hated each other on first sight when they met, as unlikely as that seemed.

Not to mention he hadn't even told Illya about Rin yet. He didn't know if Illya put any value in family rivalries, nor did he know if Rin did, but he did know that putting an Einzbern and a Tohsaka together might create a volatile situation if he wasn't careful.

But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he was trying to create a friendly environment, and he figured it was time for Illya to talk.

"Alright, then it's your turn." Shirou said, pointing at her, to which she responded by pointing to herself as well with little question marks hanging over her head. "I've been talking for long enough now. Tell me about your life here."

Shirou knew he was treading on numerous landmines by saying that. He was aware of what the Einzbern had put Illya through, at least to some extent, and he knew that he was being incredibly blunt by asking her about it so brusquely.

Nevertheless, it was necessary. The sooner he could prompt her to talk about her experiences and possible trauma, the better. If he could present this as an exchange –he told her something and she told him something in turn– then he might have the most success to get her to open up before she would start cropping things up inside, which would have nasty consequences later down the line.

As he had expected, Illya flinched when he brought up her life, and for a few seconds, it seemed like she wouldn't answer him, and would remain silent until he changed the subject.

But then she rallied, taking a deep breath, and she began talking.

"I hate it here."

It was a short, clear sentence that accurately described her feelings. It was a story on its own, carrying many different emotions, and Shirou, despite knowing it wasn't proper at all, almost laughed upon hearing it. It was just so… so endearing, almost.

"That's really everything there is to say. Everything here is so hateful." She elaborated, angrily kicking her heel against the leg of her chair. "The people are cruel and callous. The castle is only beautiful on the surface, making it feel empty. The food is horrible. There is no privacy. Sella and Leysritt are treated like objects at one moment and like dogs the next. I hate it here!"

"That is completely understandable." Shirou nodded, all amusement he had felt previously long gone now, replaced by pity for his little sister and anger towards those who treated her so callously. "That is absolutely not normal and not acceptable."

"They operate on me. Not as much as they used to, but they still do it once in a while." She continued, her hands automatically covering her abdomen, and Shirou stiffened as Kiritsugu's worst fears were confirmed. "They keep planting more Magic Circuits into me, to make me a better Master for my Servant and Vessel for the Holy Grail. They… They hurt me, and they don't even feel sorry."

"…" Shirou clenched his teeth, the anger he'd been feeling swiftly turning into rage at the thought of his little sister being tortured.

It was that he prioritised a clean escape above everything else at the moment, or he would have turned this castle upside down to find his sister's tormentors and make his displeasure known to them!

In fact, after he'd gotten Illya out, was there anything that prevented him from coming back later to smash the place up?

He didn't think there was anything stopping him from doing that, was there?

"You are angry." Illya suddenly noted.

"What?" Shirou blinked in surprise at the unexpected remark.

"You are angry." Illya repeated, before she smiled brightly. "I like that. No one has ever gotten so angry for my sake before."

"They should have!" Shirou barked, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. There was no sense in snapping at his sister, who was the victim here. "They really should have."

"Hehe." The smile remained on her face, and she rose to take his hand in hers. "Thank you."

"Hm." Shirou made a non-committal noise, looking away from Illya, as he was not sure how to react to her gratitude over something that should have been only natural. "But at least you have Sella and Leysritt?"

"Oh yes." Illya nodded happily, her smile turning into a grin, the shadow over her face disappearing as she began talking about her maids. "They were created a few years ago, and they've been my personal maids ever since. They're amazing! I mean, they can't go against grandfather's orders, but they try their very best to be on my side nevertheless. Sometimes they even half-defy grandfather's orders if I ask."

"Really?" Shirou was surprised to hear it. He knew that Homunculi, even the ones who were created by the standard process, had a mind of their own, at least to a limited degree, but if these two were buckling against their orders so hard that they very nearly broke them, they were clearly exceptional individuals. "They must be amazing people indeed."

"They are! They really are!" Illya nodded rapidly, delighted that he understood.

"What are they like, as people I mean?" Shirou asked, wondering what personality these extraordinary Homunculi possessed. "Is there anything special about them?"

"Sella is really good at combing my hair." Illya made a noise that could almost be described as purring. "With the brush, and sometimes she even uses her hands. I love it when she uses her hands. They are always so warm, like Sella herself, though she never wants to show it."

"She doesn't want to show it? I know a person like that as well." Shirou grinned. "Really kind, but she's always so prickly, and she hates it when you compliment her in any way."

"Right, right?!" Illya laughed, leaning in until her face was very close to Shirou's, before she pressed their foreheads together. "Sella is just like that."

"And Leysritt?"

"The opposite. The exaaaaact opposite." Illya pulled back again and hopped towards the middle of the room, where she twirled around once. "She's really sweet, and always says exactly what she means. No deception from her, no sir. She's kind, always listens to me, and she's really, really cute."

"She also sounds amazing."

"She is! She's also really good at fighting." Now Illya began to make movements that looked as if she was wielding a spear. "I spar with her sometimes, and she always has to hold back a lot. No one here has ever defeated her in a duel."

"No one? Has she fought a lot of people?"

"Yes! I think she's fought everyone in the Einzbern-castle at least once, except grandfather and some of the other old people. They all challenged her when they heard of her prowess, and she defeated them all! Of course, they pretended afterwards that they weren't even trying all that hard to defeat a doll, but they're just sore losers."

"Sore losers indeed!"

The conversation continued for a while, with Illya loudly complaining about this or that while praising herself and her maids, and with Shirou giving all the appropriate reactions, nodding and gasping whenever it was required.

On the inside though, he was mainly relieved to see her talk so easily about her time at the Einzbern-castle. At some points, she had difficulty speaking about a particularly nasty event, and she seemed especially troubled when describing how much she'd hated Shirou himself not so long ago, but in general, it all came out well enough.

Shirou supposed he should be grateful that, aside from making her hate him and making her believe that Kiritsugu had abandoned her, the Einzbern had inflicted very little mental torture on Illya. They probably hadn't considered it worth it if she was going to die in the next Grail War anyway. As long as Illya was ready to do her job of dying for them, they didn't care what she did or what she believed.

The only subjects that she had actual trouble talking about were the Grail War, whether it was the Fourth or the upcoming Fifth, and her nature as a Homunculus. She probably didn't want to bring the mood down by talking about the death of her parents, or about the fact that she was meant to die in the Fifth War, even if that was still decades away.

But he had the ritual from Nasu, so he could fix at least the second matter easily enough.

"What about you though, Shirou?" Illya asked after she was finally done describing Leysritt's various exploits as a warrior. "What opponents have you fought? Did you have any awesome battles that you can tell me about?"

There was not a single doubt in her voice that he had fought people, and she suddenly seemed rather eager to have him speak again, and Shirou wasn't sure what to think about the sudden bloodlust that emanated from her.

"Oh, I have fought a bit here and there." He tried to evade the question, but Illya was having none of it.

"More details." She ordered him with all the authority a little sister could muster, and Shirou could do nothing but cave to her demands.

"The vast majority of people I have fought were mundane criminals." He began, noticing Illya leaned forward in interest. "I was a vigilante for a while, quite a famous one, but I've stopped doing that for now."

"A vigilante?" Illya cocked her head to the side in curiosity. "Someone who takes the law into their own hands? How very Magus-like of you, big brother."

"Please don't say that." Shirou sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Anyway, it all got a little too successful, and too many people began to take notice, so I stopped. I mean, they even had a name for me and everything, and I had fans, Illya, fans!"

He could still barely believe it! The idea that people had started following him and praising him and generally behaved like he was a film star or something was just too weird for him to accept.

He wasn't an idol, no matter what Ayako might claim.

At least it was confined to Japan only though. To the best of Shirou's knowledge, no other country in the world had taken note of his escapades. He doubted even China or Korea had really noticed it, much less countries on the other side of the world, like the UK or Germany.

As such, there should be no issue in complaining to Illya a bit-

"Fans?" Illya blinked once, before a light of realisation appeared in her eyes. "Do you mean you are Rakurai?"

"How do you know that name?!" The creaking noise that Shirou's neck produced when he jerked around to look at his little sister might as well have been the sound of his blissful ignorance shattering into bits.

"You are Rakurai?!" Illya's mouth fell open when he reacted so seriously to her little joke, but that only lasted a second, and then her eyes began shining in glee and excitement. "That's amazing! You are a superhero!"

"No, Illya, please, I am-"

"I have the coolest big brother ever!"

"Illya, if you could just listen-"

"Oh, could we do a team-up? Could we please? I've always wanted to be a Magical Girl, and now I can be!"

"A-A Magical Girl? Uhm, well…" Shirou didn't know what to say in response. He was supposed to be done with Rakurai, but Illya was looking so hopeful he couldn't bring himself to outright deny her. Try as he might, he couldn't get the refusal past his lips.

So instead, he changed the subject.

"I also fought a Dead Apostle." He told her, hoping it would work to distract her. "A-And a Phantasmal Beast."

The first part did not seem to impress his sister, but the second part more than did the trick.

"Phantasmal Beast?" Illya asked, her voice suddenly very small, in contrast with her eyes, which had gone very wide. "What do you mean, 'Phantasmal Beast'?"

"I mean I fought and slew a Phantasmal Beast." Shirou repeated, wincing as his torso began to itch at the three places where its tentacles had run him through during their battle. "It was a creature that looked a bit like a human skull, with tentacles coming out of its neck. It seemed to live in water, as I encountered it in a lake in Japan."

"Are… Are you sure it was a Phantasmal Beast?" Illya asked, her voice still very small and anxious, afraid even. "Could it not have been a really big, really powerful familiar?"

"No." Shirou immediately shook his head, not even having to think about it. "That was a Phantasmal Beast, though it was probably a very young one."

"And you killed it?" Illya continued her unnerved questioning. "You are absolutely certain?"

"Absolutely." Shirou nodded, taking a reassuring tone in response to Illya's obvious fear. "I smashed it to bits and burned the remains so thoroughly there was barely any ash left. I even waited for an hour to ensure it stayed dead."

"I-I see." Illya mumbled, dropping back onto her chair with a heavy sigh of relief. "Phew, good thing you were there, Shirou, and that you found the Beast. I don't know how a Phantasmal Beast could have showed up in the Modern Age, and I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

"I already know what would have happened." Shirou grumbled, his mood taking a nosedive as he remembered how many victims the Beast had made before he destroyed it. "And I think it was the other way around, Illya. I didn't find it, but it found me."

Shirou had given it a lot of thought back then, why he had suddenly stumbled on a Phantasmal Beast so soon after finding Mjolnir. It could have been a complete coincidence of course, but when he'd looked the Beast up on the internet, he'd discovered it was most likely a Nokken, a creature from German mythology, and last time he checked, Germany and Japan weren't exactly next door.

That Beast had to have come to Japan for a reason, and the only reason Shirou could think of was that it had come to hunt him down. Whether that was out of jealousy about his power, desire to eat him, or something else entirely, he didn't know, though based on its behaviour once it had found Shirou, he could take an educated guess that it was definitely not to befriend him.

"It found you?" Illya blinked several times, staring at him with a befuddled gaze, as if he'd spoken in a language unknown to her, and then the penny seemed to drop, and she went as pale as a sheet, his casual statement about the Phantasmal Beast having been out for his blood seeming to have fallen very, very badly with her.

"B-But you don't have to worry." Shirou quickly assured her, only now seeing that telling her this all of a sudden might not have been the wisest thing to do. "Nothing else of the sort has occurred since then. There is no need to be afraid, at all."

"Ah." Now it was Illya's turn to make a non-committal noise, and her face remained as pale as before. She wasn't reassured in the slightest by his attempt at damage control.

"Uhm." Deeply regretting his openness about having fought a Phantasmal Beast that had been hunting for him -Illya was raised as a Magus, of course she was going to take that harder than Ayako or Sakura– Shirou once again tried to find a different subject, and eventually, decided to return to what they had been talking about before.

He didn't like talking about own career as a vigilante very much, and he liked Illya's plan to become one as well under the guise of a Magical Girl even less, but it was much better than her being so scared.

"S-So, about that Magical Girl-thing." He thus began, trying to sound natural and hoping that Illya's surprised blink at the change in subject was a good thing. "What exactly did you have in mind? Did you have some ideas for the costume, or-?"

"Wha-! NO! Never mind the Magical Girls!" Illya cried out, interrupting him as colour returned to her face, and continued returning until she was bright red in a mixture of outrage and stress. "You can't just talk about a Phantasmal Beast and then try to change the subject! What you mean it found you?! Was it after you?! Why was it after you?!"

Alright, at least she was talking again. She might be a little angry, or very angry, but that was better than her being terrified.

"I think it was after me. I can't say for sure; the Beast and I didn't exactly have time for a chat at any point." Shirou explained quickly, before heading her off when she tried to ask another question. "Yes, I do know why it could've been interested in me, and no, I cannot explain why yet. Partially because it would take too long, and partially because I'm not going to talk about such things inside enemy territory."

Shirou was almost completely certain that no one except Illya knew he was here, but that didn't mean that the Einzbern, upon finding Illya gone, might not be able to use some kind of psychometry Magecraft to find out what had been talked about in the room.

Nothing they'd talked about so far was really a secret, and the things that were secret, such as Shirou's real last name, were already known to the Einzbern. So, in the unlikely event that they somehow managed to figure out what had been talked about in this room, they would find nothing new, as long as Shirou was careful about what he said.

"Y-You cannot explain it yet?" Illya asked.

"No, not yet."

"But you will explain later?" Illya pressed him.

"Yes, I will." Shirou promised. "As soon as it's safe and we have the time, I will tell you everything there is to know about me."

"…You mean it." Illya eventually concluded, looking astounded as she said it. "You are actually going to explain."

"You didn't think that I would?" Shirou asked, wondering where that sudden mistrust came from. "I'm not lying."

"N-No, it's not that I don't trust you, b-but, no one ever told me they would tell me something later, and actually meant it." Illya stuttered, looking so fragile that a breeze might have blown her away. "Everyone who said so died, o-or didn't come back, or they lied to me. B-But you actually mean it."

Illya probably hadn't intended for her words to cut straight to Shirou's heart, but they did, and he had to firmly sit on the urge to take his little sister into a hug. Her utter surprise that he was actually intending to tell her stuff was heart wrenching, and he promptly swore to tell her everything she wanted to know once they were in a safe location.

It might be a little impulsive to immediately tell her all about Mjolnir and the other factors involving the hammer even though he had known her for less than a day, but he didn't want to distrust his own sister.

He didn't intend for a moment to become some cynical, silent brooder who only ever told people the absolute minimum of what they needed to know. He was Emiya Shirou, and if he kept something silent from his loved ones and friends, it was only by pure necessity.

And it was not at all necessary to keep his secrets from Illya.

He would have to see about Sella and Leysritt though, but if they were as trustworthy as Illya claimed them to be, there would be no need to keep anything from them either.

So he told her that, and after Illya had looked at him for a moment longer, she smiled.

It was a very small smile, but as the seconds ticked past, it became wider and wider until she was outright beaming. Then she threw herself at him for a hug, one Shirou had anticipated and had no problem reciprocating.

"Thank you!" She smiled so brightly it was almost blinding, and if Shirou had had any regrets about his decision, they would have been burned away right there.

"No problem."

"Oh, and Shirou." She continued, her smile suddenly turning slightly evil. "I have a lot of ideas for the Magical Girl-outfits, thank you for asking."

"…Ah." Shirou smiled uncomfortably, before he mentally slapped himself. If that was what she wanted, then that was what she would get. "You'll have to tell me all about them soon."

"Yes!" Illya cheered, before she quickly sobered up again and took a step back from him. "Oh, but first, I need to tell you about Sella and Leysritt. They might be here any moment now, and you need to be prepared for them. You need to act in the right way when you meet them, or they won't like you."

"I shall be very polite." Shirou nodded, figuring that he couldn't go wrong with old-fashioned good manners.

"Yes, please be polite. Also, continue being polite, even if they act… weirdly."

"Weirdly?"

"Sella can be slow to warm up to people." Illya explained hesitantly, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head. "She can be rather stand-offish, even to people who are nice to her. Please don't take it seriously, she's just… shy."

"Remember when I compared her to someone I know?" Shirou huffed, unable to suppress a smile. "This only confirms it. I shall be very, very patient with her, like I am with that person."

"O-Oh, that's good. Uhm, well, Leysritt is really nice, but she's also slow. Please don't be insulted if she behaves rudely, she doesn't mean any insult. If you talk to her and she doesn't reply, it doesn't mean she isn't listening, she's just thinking about what to say, or she does not know what to say at all. She does listen though, she always listens when people talk to her."

"I shall assume only the best things when I am talking to her."

"Good." Illya nodded sharply. "G-Good. They can be difficult, but they are my maids, so please don't let them bother you."

"Noted." Shirou smiled, not bothered in the slightest. Honestly, he felt relieved. When Illya had said her maids could behave weirdly, he'd expected much worse than a tsundere and a ditsy person.

Then a bell suddenly started ringing, shocking them both and alerting Shirou that his quickly applied Runic Ward had spotted two approaching figures. With a quick mental command, Shirou silenced the bell, and he looked at who it was that had set off his Wards.

"There are two people approaching." He told Illya, who was looking at him in anticipation. "Homunculi, carrying baskets, both seem to be quite combat capable, and one is carrying a halberd on their back."

"Sounds like Sella and Leysritt." Illya clapped her hands in joy, eagerness and relief writ all over her face. "Today is laundry day, so they're bringing up my washed clothes in those baskets, and Leysritt has a halberd that she uses for combat. We usually spar after Sella has finished her daily lecture."

"Sparring? Lecture?" Shirou's ears perked up at that, but then he shook his head, knowing that this wasn't the time. "No, never mind. What do you want me to do? Hide?"

"That might be the best until I've explained things to them." Illya agreed. "They might attack you otherwise, and that would be bad."

"Ah yes, we wouldn't want that to happen." Shirou nodded with a wry smile, and he looked around for a good hiding place, his eyes going over the entire room, before he decided to just hide himself under the bed.

He'd considered hiding in one of the many closets, which were more than big enough for him to fit into, but since, as Illya had just told him, the maids were bringing her freshly washed clothes to her room, the closets would literally be the first places they'd look.

Shirou crawled under the bed, regulated his breathing to a point where it was inaudible to all but the sharpest of ears, and then carefully peeked out at the door, using the shadows to his advantage to become practically invisible, like he'd done so often during his vigilante days.

Meanwhile, Illya took place behind her desk to start writing in a notebook. She understood, without him even having to mention it, that if it weren't Sella and Leysritt who were approaching, it would be better if she was doing something completely inconspicuous so as to not arouse any suspicion.

About two minutes later, the door opened, and two Homunculi in splendid maid outfits stepped through, both looking entirely neutral as they entered, yet unable to hide the happiness and fondness that entered their eyes when they saw Illya, who turned around to look at them with a huge smile.

Looking at that beautiful smile, Shirou knew that there was no way he could not take those two maids with him as well. Leaving them behind would definitely make Illya sad, and that was not something he was in any way willing to do.

Not that Illya left him much of a choice, for when she had closed her notebook and stood up from her chair, she wasted not a second in asking the maids for their opinion.

"Sella, Leysritt." She beamed at them, visibly taking the two maids aback with her sudden exuberance. "If I were to leave this place and go somewhere else, somewhere the Einzbern couldn't find me, would you come with me?"

The maids blinked in tandem, before they looked at each other, an entire conversation taking place in that one moment of eye-contact, and then looked back at Illya.

"Mistress." The maid on the left began, and by the ease of her speech, Shirou guessed that that was Sella. "We would be delighted for you to leave this place behind and live somewhere else."

"Yes, yes." Illya nodded, her eyes shining in delight. "We'd finally be free! We could-"

"But we cannot go with you."

Illya froze, and under the bed, Shirou frowned, but the maids both remained steel-faced, not a trace of the earlier emotions left in their expressions, even as regret emanated from them so clearly Shirou could almost taste it in the air.

"If you will leave shortly, mistress, please do not take us along with you."

---

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIND IT!?" Rosaly von Stahlen-Frobrecht roared at her dullard of an assistant, who flinched away before her anger. "NEED I REMIND YOU YOUR LIFE IS ON THE LINE AS WELL!?"

"No, mistress. I understand, mistress." Raoul Mian, said dullard assistant, bowed and scraped before her, as he damn well should. "T-The list, we haven't lost it, it's merely been… displaced."

"Then place it again, lout." Rosaly sneered at him, bringing the volume down to an acceptable level when she remembered the subject of their conversation wasn't something she should be shouting about. "If you cannot find it before tomorrow evening, I will not hesitate to blame everything on you, understood?"

"Yes, mistress!"

"Then get out of my sight!"

Mian sped away, eager to escape her presence, and Rosaly was alone again in her office, feeling both anger and dread in equal amounts.

Above all else though, she felt tired. Tired and alone, and very much done with her life.

At twenty-one years of age, being the heir of her family, with a healthy body, a healthy mind, a good number of high-quality Magic Circuits, and an appearance that could make any man stop for a moment to look twice, with her glossy red hair, her pale, almost impossibly unblemished skin, and fair features, Rosaly would at first sight look like a woman who had everything going for her in life.

But, as was so often the case in the Moonlit World, the first sight was completely worthless to determine how things really were, and under the shiny surface, there was much ugliness and foulness to be found.

All these so-called advantages that Rosaly possessed, all the things she should be proud of, that should have given her a leg-up in life, were absolutely useless after all when people far more powerful than her had decided to take advantage of her.

Every characteristic she possessed, every victory she'd won, and all the luck of her birth were nothing more than ash now that a mighty family had decided, on a whim, to ruin her.

All the advantages in the world were worth nothing when she was forced to comply with heartless, beastly criminals like the Alva, and through them, the Meluastea. When she was blackmailed into throwing her future away by aiding them in committing capital crimes.

For all that Rosaly looked like a capable woman with a good future, right now, she was nothing but a flunkie, a slave, to be discarded at will.

It hadn't always been like that though. Until quite recently, Rosaly did have everything going for her.

She had never had any intentions whatsoever to become a criminal. She came from a good family that had always been on the right side of the law. She had been raised to become a proper lady, who didn't involve herself in any shady business.

She had never desired to break the law in any way. She just wanted to pursue her research in puppetry and golem-making at the Clocktower, working together with her two closest friends as she carved out a life for herself.

She didn't need to reach the Root. She didn't need or want fame and riches. Her family never pressured her to bring them glory. They had enough money that she didn't have to worry about a job but weren't important enough to warrant her having an arranged marriage, meaning she was free to pick her husband for herself, as long as he was a Magus and at least a bit respectable.

In short, there had been absolutely no need for her to do anything illegal.

She was all set up to live a quiet, unassuming life, far away from any drama or difficulties, with her friends on her side. She wouldn't go down in the history books, but she would have a good life at least, which was all she'd dared ask for.

But then, several months ago, everything had started going wrong.

One of her dear friends, Marie Alva, had suddenly disappeared. From one day to the next, she had stopped coming to visit Rosaly, and had only sent a note after several days, explaining that her family wanted her to work on their projects, and that she wasn't allowed to waste time on interacting with useless friends anymore.

Rosaly didn't like the idea that the bright, happy girl, who was so fascinated by ancient mundane cultures and was always so delighted whenever she discovered something new, had been confined to a laboratory to work on things that she hated, yet the redhead still furiously hoped that that was indeed what had happened to Marie.

The alternative was worse after all, much worse. Rosaly knew very well that Marie's father hated her focus on mundane cultures, and that he was a vile, unstable man who might very well harm his second daughter if he ever had a bad day.

Rosaly had worried immensely for her friend, and she'd begun worrying even more when, around a month ago, the notes from Marie had stopped entirely. Again, Rosaly didn't like the idea that Marie's family was now stopping her from writing, or that they were intercepting the notes, but she still vastly preferred those possibilities over the one that Marie had been hurt by them.

Rosaly had tried reaching out herself, but any attempt at getting to Marie had been rebuffed long before she got anywhere. Asking around also yielded nothing, for even the people who were supposed to work with the Alva-family on a daily basis hadn't seen Marie in quite some time.

It almost seemed as if Marie had just disappeared from the face of the Earth entirely, as if the Alva-family was actively denying that she'd ever existed at all.

Three weeks ago though, they had broken their silence, when Rosaly had been visited by Jessica Alva, Marie's big sister, who had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to stop trying to contact Marie, as the Alva-family no longer wanted any useless distractions around.

Apparently, Rosaly's inquiries had annoyed the Alva-family, and they were now trying to make her back down, something that had initially raised Rosaly's spirit, since it meant that she was finally getting somewhere.

When pushed, Jessica had told her that Marie was still alive and still very active, but she'd said in such a way that it didn't alleviate any of Rosaly's concerns. Rather, it made her so worried her stomach ached from it.

Then Jessica had dropped another bomb on her, telling her that Rosaly now worked for the Alva, and that she would do everything that she was told.

Naturally, Rosaly had promptly refused, and had prepared herself for a fight, but Jessica had merely laughed, and then showed a picture of Rosaly's younger sisters. It was a very clear threat, and to make it worse, the bitch had also implied that the way Marie would be treated going forward would depend entirely on the level of Rosaly's cooperation.

The black-haired bitch had been smirking smugly the entire time, though that smug smirk had disappeared very quickly when Rosaly had punched the girl straight on her ugly, squad nose, sending her flying from her chair and onto the ground.

It had felt amazing, and it was more than worth Jessica's angry tirade following the punch.

It had been the only act of defiance allowed to her however. Jessica had threatened retaliation against Rosaly's little sisters and against Marie if she ever acted out like that again, and so, Rosaly had fallen in line. Since that day, she had become yet another slave under the Alva's control.

It went to show how treacherous life at the Clocktower really was. Rosaly had always kept her head down, she had never stood out, never insulted anyone, never dared rise above the masses, yet despite all that, she was still being blackmailed into aiding criminals now. The jackals and vultures had still found her, and they had gladly made a meal out of her.

Worse, she had no one to defend her either. Rosaly had gotten into the Clocktower with the help of a sponsor who'd soon after abandoned her. She was essentially independent, and though that had served her well by keeping her under the radar, it also meant she was easy prey once someone did notice her.

Marie had no protection either. She had gotten into the Clocktower because her family was based in the Clocktower to begin with, meaning she had no powerful sponsor watching over her and was thus entirely dependent on the grills of her family-head, something that had now tripped her up badly.

The last person of their group of three was a mix of the two. Her family was powerful enough to get her into the Clocktower, even though they weren't really based there, but she'd also had a sponsor, though that man had been executed a few years back for illegal experimentation on his own son.

In other words, the three girls had been enjoying quite a lot of freedom over the past years, yet as soon as things turned against them, it was over for them, and Rosaly could see no way out.

"Damn them!" She cried, lashing out and throwing a vase –an ugly gift from her aunt– against the wall, where it shattered with a very satisfying sound. A sound that let her imagine it were Jessica Alva's bones that were shattered beyond repair. "Damn them all!"

Smashing a vase and shouting wouldn't change the facts though, and the facts were that the Alva-family had her in a tight grip. With the lives of her little sisters and Marie in danger, Rosaly had no choice but to do as she was told.

She did research for them. She filled out their forms. She financed some projects when they didn't want to use their own money. She delivered their messages. All of that and more she did, like the proper blackmail-victim she was supposed to be.

At least on the surface.

Below the surface however, she was actively rebelling against her leash-holders. Of course she was, she wasn't going to roll over and be a good dog when people were blackmailing her. She was a Von Stahlen-Frobrecht, and she still had her pride if nothing else.

It honestly astounded her how easy it was to copy the files that the Alva sent her, and to have them delivered straight to Lady Montmorency. She had expected it would be difficult, perhaps even impossible, to reveal the Alva's secrets to the woman who was by all accounts the power behind the throne of the Clocktower, but it had turned out to be surprisingly simple.

So Rosaly kept doing it, sending more and more information to the second-in-command of the Department of Policies, for if there was anyone alive who could put a stop to the Alva and their masters, it would be Lady Montmorency.

As she'd said before, it wasn't hard. Rosaly would receive her assignments from the Alva, which she completed as quickly as possible. Then, she would copy or summarise whatever she had been working on in a file, before having Raoul, her somewhat intellectually challenged assistant, deliver those files to lady Montmorency. She had chosen Raoul for that job, because he was the most trustworthy person she knew, and he was extremely good at sneaking around unnoticed.

The reason she'd been so angry with him a few minutes ago however was because he had forgotten to deliver a critical file to Lady Montmorency, one that Rosaly had been ecstatic to obtain, for it might very well save her life, and that of Raoul as well.

That file showed very clearly who was in the Alva's employ because they wanted to be, and who was forced to work for them under threat and blackmail. Getting that information to Lady Montmorency could mean the difference between life and death for people like Rosaly, so she had been very stressed out when Raoul told her he hadn't delivered it yet.

If Lady Montmorency started an attack on the Meluastea and she didn't know that Rosaly and several others were only working with them because had been forced into doing so, then she might have them executed at once, without even granting them time to explain.

And while Rosaly would really like to see the Alva-family destroyed, she didn't want to die for it if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

After all, the prospect of seeing the Alva slaughtered and then living happily ever after herself was just about the only thing keeping her going at the moment, after the terrible time she'd been having lately.

She hadn't slept well in weeks, her own research had been untouched since this mess began, she had barely spoken to her family, who were getting more concerned about her by the day, she had lost at least fifteen kilograms, it was horrible.

And to make matters worse, her two friends, the people who she normally went to for love and support if things turned against her, were now absent, which was a large part of why she was so stressed to begin with.

Marie had disappeared, and Rosaly could only pray she was alright, but the other one wasn't around either. She had been called back home by her family months ago, well before the mess had started, and had only sent the occasional letter, to which Rosaly hadn't replied, knowing that the letter would never reach her anyway. Either the Alva or her friend's own family would surely intercept it.

So she was feeling lonely on top of being tired, angry, and concerned.

"A thousand curses." She muttered, before her temper again got the better of her and she seized another vase to throw against a wall, screaming in anger and despair. "A thousand curses on the Clocktower and the Magus Association!"

"Wait!"

Just a split second before the vase flew from Rosaly's hands, a sudden shout made her freeze in place. Not just because of what was said, but also because she recognised the voice. She recognised it very well, and she jerked around to look at the origin, clutching the vase to her breast.

There, in the door opening, having just pushed the door open to get into the office, she sat. She was there, as if summoned by Rosaly's earlier thoughts, having arrived in the nick of time to prevent a second vase from being smashed.

It was Rosaly's dear, beloved, wheelchair-bound friend who had thrown the door open, and who now sat there with a shocked look on her face and her hands outstretched as if to physically prevent Rosaly from throwing the vase.

It was Fiore Forvedge, Rosaly's second friend.

For a few seconds, neither girl spoke, both frozen in place, too occupied with looking the other over to move or speak.

Fiore looked good, Rosaly was happy to note. Despite having just spent months with a family she hated, her brown hair had been taken care of, her skin had a healthy shine, her clothes were meticulous, and her gaze was alert and inquisitive.

Rosaly did not want to know though what Fiore saw when she looked at her. She undoubtedly looked like the situation at large; a total mess.

"Rosaly." Fiore then said, hastily carting herself forward to take the vase from the redhead's hands and put it back where it belonged, her sharp eyes also noticing the shards of the already broken vase lying on the ground nearby. "What is wrong?"

"Fiore…" Rosaly began, having difficulty bringing herself to speak as her throat constricted for some reason. "It's… There is…"

"Rosaly?!" Fiore now sounded outright alarmed, and the redhead gritted her teeth when she realised that she was crying now. Fat tears streamed down her cheeks, and they kept streaming even as she tried to stop them.

Damnit, she didn't want to cry. There was no sense in upsetting Fiore, and she shouldn't be showing such weakness, even to a friend.

But then Fiore only made it worse by taking her into an embrace, pulling Rosaly down to her knees and then hugging her head to her chest, humming softly as she tried to comfort the redhead.

Was it any wonder that Rosaly actually started crying at that point?

"There, there." Fiore whispered as she patted Rosaly's back, uncaring about the tears drenching her shirt as Rosaly wailed and wailed. "No need to hold back, I won't tell anyone."

Fiore was still just as kind as she'd ever been, and Rosaly's throat constricted even more when she realised just how much she'd missed her friend over the past months, and how much she had dreaded losing her too.

Rosaly cried, and she cried until the worst of her feelings had been expunged. Then she pulled back from Fiore's embrace to take several steps back, quickly wiping her cheeks with her sleeve and taking a few deep breaths to completely regain her composure.

She appreciated her friend's gesture, but she was still a Magus. Maybe she could away with a few moments of crying, but she shouldn't exaggerate. She needed to be calm and in control, if not always, then at least most of the time.

Fiore, understanding very well what was going through her friend's head, closed her eyes and waited politely for Rosaly to regain control over herself, and then gave her a curious and emphatic look.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice full of genuine concern and empathy, though the light-hearted tone indicated to Rosaly that she had no idea what was going on.

The small brunette probably expected Rosaly to have lost a family-member, or that something else along those lines had happened, and the redhead derived no pleasure from having to bring the horrid news that Marie was missing, having been dragged into her family's lair, and that she herself was currently being blackmailed by Marie's sister into helping her with her criminal activities.

Still, she told Fiore, she told her everything, including the part where she was actually trying to be an informant of Lady Montmorency, because if she couldn't trust Fiore enough to tell her that, then she could trust no one.

By the end of her story, Fiore had gone chalk white.

"Y-You have heard nothing more from Marie?" She asked desperately, just as concerned about their third friend as Rosaly was. "Not even a rumour? Did Jessica not say anything?"

"Nothing that would help us." Rosaly muttered in frustration. "She just keeps threatening Marie, but honestly, I don't even know if Marie is alive at all anymore. She may very well be dead-"

"Don't talk like that!" Fiore grasped Rosaly's hand, giving her a look that was half-scolding and half-pleading. "You can't say such things until we are entirely certain. Otherwise, you're just hampering yourself and making yourself depressed to the point where it cripples you."

The brunette sounded as if she knew what she was talking about, and considering what her family was like, she probably did. As such, Rosaly reasoned it was better to listen to Fiore, since the redhead herself didn't have that much experience with depressing situations.

Rosaly's family had always been good to her after all. It wasn't perfect, no family was, but she'd had a fairly happy childhood at least. Her father was distant, but he had a strong sense of responsibility towards his children, and her mother was strict but loving. It also helped that her family wasn't ambitious enough to push her into achieving great things, and that they weren't stringent enough to demand she'd be a perfect Magus.

Rosaly loved her family, and though she'd always been extremely conscious of the fact that among her peers –not just Fiore and Marie but also just about every other person her age she knew– she was the only one with a happy childhood, she was glad that it had worked out that way.

Even if it was also why Jessica's threat of harming her family was so effective on her, while it would have done nothing to most other people she knew.

If Fiore's family had been threatened, then, with the sole exception of the little brother she always spoke fondly of, the brunette would be happy to let them die. Marie was much the same.

"Just keep hoping." Fiore continued imploringly, squeezing Rosaly's hand in her own. "As soon as you stop hoping, they have won, and you cannot let that happen."

"Alright, I get it." Rosaly nodded with a sigh, pushing the dark thoughts to a corner of her mind and steeling herself again. "Then what should we do?"

"Just keep doing what you were doing, passing information on to Lady Montmorency." Fiore's voice suddenly became dead serious, and Rosaly could not help but straighten her back and listen intently when the brunette started giving off a commanding aura. "If there's anyone who can deal with the Alva, it's that woman. Besides, we have very few, if any, other options."

"I don't suppose we can try to sneak into the Alva's headquarters and take Marie away from there?" Rosaly asked with fake cheer, before looking down when Fiore gave her a withering glare. "I suppose not."

"At this point, we can do nothing but wait." The brunette told her in no uncertain terms. "We are not powerful or resourceful enough to do anything else. Any active rebellion will just get you killed."

Fiore's voice was strong, yet Rosaly also detected a considerable undercurrent of frustration in her tone.

It was not hard to guess where that frustration came from. After all, the brunette had just escaped from her home, a place where she could do nothing but wait in powerlessness until she was allowed to leave, only to be cast into a situation where she could again do nothing but wait until someone else came along to fix her problems.

It probably vexed her to no end to be so powerless, yet there was nothing Rosaly could say to comfort her.

She was just as powerless after all. Just as useless.

"Even here." Fiore whispered, the fire and energy draining from her body until she looked forlorn and deeply sad. "Even here there is nothing I can do."

"I'm sorry." Rosaly wasn't sure what she was apologising for, but Fiore deserved an apology, and since it wasn't going to come from the Forvedge or from the Alva, that left only Rosaly to say the words. "This was probably not what you were expecting when you returned to the Clocktower."

"That is not your fault." Fiore shook her head, weakly waving her hand up and down. "It's not your fault at all."

"Would you rather go back home?" Rosaly ventured carefully. She didn't want Fiore to leave, she'd only just got here, but none of this was Fiore's problem yet, so there was no need for the brunette to stick around.

"Certainly not!" The wheelchair-bound girl was swift to reject the possibility however, throwing her hand to the side as if to brush away the mere thought. "Even if things were better at home, which they aren't, I would still stay here. You and Marie need me, so I won't be going anywhere until this situation is resolved."

"Fiore…" Rosaly's voice almost broke just from saying her friends name, and she didn't dare say anymore, lest she cry again. Her friend seemed to understand though, and gave her a fond smile.

Alas, this wasn't a Shounen-anime however. Just friendship and spirit wouldn't be enough to change the facts, and the facts still were that the Alva-family was too powerful for them to beat.

And even if a miracle took place and Lady Montmorency destroyed the Alva, while Rosaly remained alive and unpunished, and they managed to save Marie, then they would still not be out of the woods.

The most immediate problem would be dealt with, yes, but the underlying issue, that being their complete lack of ways to fight back against more powerful individuals, families, and entities, would not be resolved at all.

When Rosaly raised that matter, it became clear that Fiore had also thought about that already.

"I know, Rosaly, I know." Fiore's smile was exhausted, though even under all the burden, there was a trace of hope left. "We'll have to become far more politically aware and ready to fight, now that our careless youth is truly over."

"It doesn't have to be." Rosaly said reflexively, shaking her head strongly enough for her hair to flip up. "If we can last until the Alva are destroyed, e-except Marie of course, then we can continue like before. We'll just have to be more careful."

Rosaly had come to the Clocktower for leisurely research and calm interaction with her friends. If she couldn't have those, what was the point of being there in the first place?

"Maybe." Fiore nodded, though she looked just as forlorn as before. "But what if being careful isn't enough? What if the next determined criminal comes around and decides we meet their fancy? And even if we escape them here at the Clocktower, won't there be more waiting for us at our homes? Ready to snap us up because we seem useful to them?"

Rosaly opened her mouth to snap at Fiore for her defeatism, but held herself back when something occurred to her. Something horrible, yet so very plausible.

"Is there someone…? At your house?" She ventured, the bottom dropping out of her stomach when her friend looked away. "Who?"

"Darnic Prestone." Fiore replied, her mouth twisting as if she'd tasted something foul. "A deeply unpleasant, evil man. Even grandfather was scared of him, and father didn't even dare speak in his presence. He came to offer me a job, and a place at his side, for some nebulous event that is going to take place in the near future. Naturally, grandfather accepted his offer immediately."

"…I see."

"I don't think we can continue like this, Rosaly." Fiore continued, her voice gaining more fire as she spoke. "Being independent was nice while it lasted, but we need protection too. I-If we manage to save Marie-"

"When we manage to save Marie."

"-When we manage to save Mary, we'll have to consider finding a new, more powerful sponsor, or we must join a Department with a leading family that will actually care if their underlings are attacked by others."

"…We'll have to be very careful about who we choose."

"Yes, but one way or another, we must do something before it is too late." Fiore was adamant, and Rosaly could not disagree with her. "If we want to be safe after the Alva have been destroyed, and if I want to escape from Prestone, we will have to do something about our current situation."

"Well, I've been spending too much time moping around anyway." Rosaly sighed, placing a hand on Fiore's shoulder. "And you probably aren't in the mood for research either."

"Not particularly, no."

"Then let's make a study about who we'll join when this mess is resolved."

"Yes, let's!"

---

"What do you mean you can't come with me? I want you to come with me!"

"Mistress-"

"NO! You will come with me! You must come!"

Illya knew that she sounded whiny, petulant even, but right now, she couldn't possibly care less about that. Not after hearing what Sella just said.

'If you will leave shortly, mistress, please do not take us along with you.'

That was what she said. That was what Leysritt had agreed to, nodding her head as Sella spoke. That was what they had told her, as it was something they really meant.

They had told her this with faces that could have been carved from stone, with not a single trace of emotion present anywhere. They looked at her in a way they hadn't looked since the first day they'd ever entered her room, introducing themselves as her new maids.

They were completely and utterly serious about it. They really wanted Illya to leave them behind when she left the Einzbern-castle.

Illya didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. It was horrendous even, and the oh-so-familiar mix of pain and confusion rose to the surface of her mind, making it difficult to think straight.

Sella and Leysritt were refusing to come with her. They were, essentially, leaving her. Just like her parents, just like everyone else in her life.

The happiness and delight Illya had felt about her brother having come to take her home disappeared into nothing, and she even forgot about Shirou himself, as her fear of abandonment reared its ugly head and forced her into a senseless panic.

"W-Why don't you want to come with me?" She brought out eventually, unable to prevent herself from stuttering. "W-Why?"

"Mistress…"

"Is it because you don't like me? Do you actually hate me?"

"Mistress, no!" Sella seemed aghast at her words, and even Leysritt looked horrified at the mere suggestion of them hating Illya.

"I-Is it something I have done?" Illya continued, unable to believe her maids when they claimed not to hate her.

"It has nothing to do with you, mistress." Sella was visibly losing her composure, her voice rising as Illya kept yelling at her.

"Then why?!" Illya screamed, her tone desperately pleading. "Why don't you want to be with me anymore?"

"Because we are a danger to you!" Sella shouted back, almost in tears herself, while Leysritt stepped forward, knelt down, and clumsily took Illya into a hug, both maids having their stone expression smashed to bits now. "Because we are programmed to keep you here, at the Einzbern-castle."

"Sella…?"

"Mistress, we want nothing more than to come with you, nothing more." Sella clenched her hands to fists as she spoke, the laundry basket she'd been carrying lying forgotten on the floor. "But it is too dangerous. We were created as your maids, your guardians, and your prison guards. We are under strict orders never to let you leave the castle grounds, and if you were to take us with you, we would forever try to bring you back here."

"Forever." Leysritt confirmed in a small voice, tightening the hug, even as Illya felt wetness on her shoulder, indicating that even the unflappable combat-maid was unable to keep her eyes dry.

"L-Leysritt, are you crying?" Illya asked, to which the ditsy Homunculus immediately shook her head. "Yes, you are! You are crying!"

"Why wouldn't she?" Sella huffed, dabbing at her own eyes with a handkerchief. "Please don't take us for fools, mistress. You have spoken about escape before, but always in the context of the future. Now you speak as if it is a done deal, as if it is a certainty. May I assume you'll be leaving the castle today?"

Illya didn't react. She didn't have to for her maids to understand that Sella was right on the money.

"If this is the last time we'll see you, mistress, then we wish to say a proper goodbye." Sella continued, stepping closer to place her hand on Illya's head. "And that includes tears."

"T-The last time?" If there was a good aspect of the current conversation, then it was that Illya no longer felt abandoned or upset, and that she no longer believed that her maids disliked her. That was clearly not so. Instead however, she was worried sick about Sella's strangely final-sounding goodbye. "W-Why are you t-talking as if we'll never see each other again?"

"Mistress..." Sella clearly hesitated to say more, but a withering glare from Illya made her continue all the same. "If you leave, then we will have failed in our duty of keeping you here. Your grandfather will be most displeased."

"He'll discard you." Illya whispered, her eyes going wide in realisation as the bottom fell out of her stomach. "He'll do away with you, break you down. He'll-"

"Is alright." Leysritt interrupted her with a whisper, pulling back enough to give Illya a tearful smile. "Don't mind it if you are happy."

"Quite so." Sella nodded, giving Leysritt an approving look. "We are your servants, lady Illyasviel. As long as you are happy, it does not matter what happens to us."

"Remember us though?" Leysritt asked hopefully, giving Illya one of the dopey smiles she was so good at.

"Or don't. That is your choice entirely, mistress."

The two maids smiled together, and then both took a step back and away from the door, as if making room for Illya to walk past them and leave the Einzbern-castle forever.

Illya did no such thing however.

Escaping herself but leaving her maids behind to be executed? To slowly rot away in the pit where Old Man Acht threw all 'defect' Homunculi?

What kind of person did they think she was?!

It was ridiculous! Preposterous!

They would have been better off making her believe they did hate her. At least then, she might have actually left without them.

Now that they had shown so clearly that they loved her though? Now that they had confirmed once and for all that they were amazing people with their own personalities, wishes, and wants?

No way she would leave them behind.

Even if she had to make Shirou tie them up, gag them, and drag them along.

"I love you, Sella and Leysritt." She smiled, beaming up at her maids, who both blinked in surprise. "Which is why there is no way I'm going to let you stay here. You'll come along with me even if I have to force you to."

"With all due respect, mistress, I don't think you can." Sella said calmly, keeping her composure even after Illya had basically threatened to abduct her. In fact, there was a trace of a humourless smile on her face now. "You have never been able to remotely match Leysritt in battle, and I am no slouch in combat either."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on doing it myself." Illya laughed, immediately rejecting the ridiculous notion of her being able to force the maids to do anything, as they were indeed a fair bit stronger than her. "Say, Sella, you mentioned that I have always spoken about escaping from this place as something to do in the future, yet that today, I give the impression of being about to leave for real."

"Ah, yes, I noticed this, mistress." Sella nodded, confusion appearing on her face now. "It was hard to miss."

"Haven't you wondered why that is?" Illya continued her questioning, her voice becoming teasing. "Why I have suddenly decided that now is the time to leave?"

"Lady Illyasviel?" Sella was getting more and more confused as the conversation continued, and Illya was loving every moment of it.

"Haven't I been telling you, say, over the last few months, that there was a way for me to escape? That someone would come to save me from this place?" Illya purred, stalking through the room like a cat on the prowl. "Have you already forgotten that I have been predicting a certain someone would arrive to take me away?"

Sella looked confused for a second more, and then the light seemed to go on inside her head.

"You don't mean…?" She gasped, frantically looking around the room. "He isn't… Is he…?"

"Big brother!" Illya called out teasingly, thoroughly enjoying how Sella's mouth fell open and even Leysritt raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Could you help me take these two along with us? They're being stubborn."

"Certainly."

The maids immediately jerked their gazes to the left, both stepping back in surprise, and even Illya almost jumped in shock when Shirou's voice suddenly came from right beside her.

Indeed, when she looked to her right, there he stood, her redheaded big brother, who had apparently made his way over from under the bed to stand beside her, somehow having gone unnoticed by her and her maids as he did so.

"Good afternoon." Shirou began, bowing politely to the maids. "My name is Emiya Shirou, or Shirou Emiya here in Europe. I am the adopted son of Emiya Kiritsugu, and adopted brother of Illyasviel von Einzbern, your mistress. I am pleased to meet you."

"…Sella." The elder of the Homunculus-maids replied after a few moments of stupefied silence, curtsying in response to his bow. "The pleasure is entirely mine."

"Leysritt." The younger maid said, before falling silent, not saying anything more and not doing anything either.

"Charmed." Shirou smiled, before crossing his arms and adopting a more serious expression. "I'm afraid you two will have to come with us now."

Sella gulped, Leysritt's hands twitched towards the halberd on her back, and even Illya had to take deep breath to steady herself, as her big brother suddenly emitted an aura that would have forced lesser men onto their knees.

It seemed he was dead serious about this.

"We can't." Sella refused, also crossing her arms and adopting a serious expression in an attempt to regain some control over the conversation. "I-If you were present for the last few minutes of conversation, you know it is too dangerous to take us along. The Einzbern have conditioned us most thoroughly, and we will try to take lady Illyasviel back here, and we might harm you in our attempts."

"With all due respect, you cannot harm me." Shirou said, not unkind but definitely very serious. "And I am more than capable of stopping you from taking Illya back here, certainly until I have managed to break that conditioning."

"You have an opinion of yourself that is too high." Sella hissed, peeved by his blunt statement that he was stronger than them both. "We were created as guardians, and our conditioning runs deep. The Homunculus-crafters of the Einzbern are skilled Magi."

"I have met skilled Magi before. Nothing they created has been capable of stopping me yet." Shirou replied in turn, before shaking his head. "But this discussion is pointless. Even if you are correct and I cannot beat you, I must still at least attempt to take you with us. That is what Illya wants after all."

"Yes." Illya nodded, happy that he at least understood.

"…I see." Sella mumbled, studying the redhead for a moment, before she smiled, Leysritt copying her a second later. "I am glad to hear you consider lady Illyasviel's opinion to be so important. If you can manage to remain as kind to her as you are now, I have no issue about turning her over to you."

"Treat her well." Leysritt added, her voice a mixture of pleading and threatening.

"You-!" Illya fumed in frustration. Her maids were being so incredibly stubborn. Of course, it warmed her heart to see how much they cared about her, but this was not the time for them to be all self-sacrificing.

"No need to worry. You can verify for yourself whether I'll treat her well. You are coming along after all." Fortunately, her big brother was just as stubborn as Sella and Leysritt, giving the maids a reassuring smile as he stepped forward. "Shall we get started then? The winner will get what they want."

"Let us move on from this useless talking." Sella agreed, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly in a confident grin. "No need to worry, boy. We'll beat you up a little, but afterwards, you'll still be more than capable of taking lady Illyasviel out of the castle in the same way you entered, even if I don't know how that would be."

"That is kind of you. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you the same favour. I will knock you unconscious as quickly as possible and wake you up again when the rescue is over." Shirou sounded apologetic as he described what he was going to do, before he turned to Illya. "Please step back, Illya. This might become dangerous."

Illya did not have to be told twice –she knew from experience the maids were far better combatants than she was, and she knew from her dreams Shirou could be plain terrifying in a fight– and immediately retreated to hide behind her bed, only the top of her head sticking out above it as she watched.

In all honesty, she didn't quite know what she was hoping for.

Of course, she wanted Shirou to win, that was certain, but whether he should win immediately or only after an awesome fight was harder for her to decide.

She certainly liked awesome fights, and it was really cool to see her maids and her big brother square off against each other, but then again, a prolonged fight might attract all sorts of attention that they really couldn't use at the moment.

Shirou seemed to think along the same lines, as he snapped his fingers, making a glow appear momentarily over the four walls of the room.

"What was that?" Sella asked sharply, while Leysritt grabbed her halberd from her back.

"Only a spell that will ensure no sound will escape this room." Shirou explained shortly, before he crouched slightly in a combat position, immediately copied by the maids. "Come at me!"

"Laden Brechen!" Sella wasted not a moment in launching a spell, while Leysritt sped forward immediately after. Their plan was easy to see through, even for Illya, or rather especially for Illya, who had seen them use this tactic numerous times before.

When Shirou would be distracted by having to block or deflect the spell, Leysritt would land a melee-attack. In the event that he blocked that melee-attack as well, Sella would fire another spell, and then Leysritt would strike again, and so on. It was a simple tactic, but it was brutally effective.

They had used it before during duels with the Einzbern Mages, to great effect, often taking the Magi down in just those two moves. It was very off-putting after all, having to deal with a constant stream of spells and a berserker at the same time, and most Magi wouldn't know what to do in response.

Illya wondered how her brother would deal with it. From where she was standing, it seemed impossible to avoid, and the best option for him would be to retreat as far away as he could at once, to give himself some space to work with. That was what she would have done in his position.

Shirou did no such thing.

Shirou dodged the spell so quickly he seemed to flicker before Illya's eyes, and he easily spun out of the way of Leysritt's stab, letting the halberd pass him by, before taking two steps forward and landing a devastating chop on Leysritt's neck, immediately sending her to the ground, her halberd coming down with a clatter seconds after.

Then, without wasting a single second, he continued towards Sella, appearing to merely be walking yet moving faster than Illya had ever seen anyone move, and before the maid could even lift a finger to defend herself, he neck-chopped her too.

Just like that, the fight was over.

Shirou had allowed Sella and Leysritt to attack first and had then avoided their blows before taking them down with minimal effort, moving as naturally as water flowing down a river.

Illya's maids never stood a chance.

For a few seconds, the young girl could do nothing but gape in shock and awe.

Then, when she regained her focus, she promptly began applauding in admiration, to which Shirou gave a playful bow in return.

"Amazing!" She cheered, not feeling disappointed in the slightest by how the battle had gone. "That was amazing, Shirou! Are they alright?"

"They are." He assured her, kneeling down next to Sella to place a hand on her wrist, before he lifted her in a bridal carry to carry her over to Leysritt, who he also checked for a pulse. "Neck chops are great at taking down opponents without doing permanent damage, as long as you land them right, which I'm sure I did."

"You certainly made it seem easy." Illya smiled widely, already rubbing her hands at the thought of teasing the maids with their swift defeat and making them eat some humble pie.

"It was, for me, but that doesn't mean they aren't good warriors nonetheless." Shirou laughed, before lifting Sella over his left shoulder and Leysritt over his right. "In the list of enemies that I have faced so far in my life, they are definitely in the top five of strongest individuals. They simply had the bad luck of facing the current me, instead of the past me."

"Huh?"

"What I mean is, if I had been the me from several months ago, this fight would have been far harder."

"Ah, I see." Illya nodded. He meant he'd been improving a lot over the past months, just like her.

"Now, it is time for us to leave." Shirou said once he had the maids safely in his hold, before looking at her. "How long do you need to grab your stuff?"

"Two seconds." Illya grinned, before pulling a small suitcase from one of the closets –a suitcase that already held most of the stuff she wanted to bring with her– before adding several other small items to it. "I prepared this suitcase months ago, putting in all the things that have emotional value, but I didn't need every day, and now I just have to add the things I did need every day."

Things like her favourite hairbrush, her mother's small mirror, and the brooch that Leysritt liked so much.

In the end, it took longer than two seconds to gather everything she needed, more like two minutes to be honest, but it was still fast enough, if you asked Illya.

"Done." She huffed when she closed her suitcase and picked it up. "Where to now?"

"Come here. Stand close to me." Shirou instructed her, motioning to the place right beside him. "And don't move, no matter how much this might shock you."

"Shock me?" Illya asked curiously, but he just gave her a roguish grin in return. "Aren't we going to fly?"

That was how he'd gotten into her room after all, and she had thought that would also be the way they would get out again.

"No." Shirou shook his head however. "We could fly, but it wouldn't be very efficient if I had to carry you, the maids, and your luggage. No, I have something far better in mind."

Intrigued, Illya made her way over to him, placing herself exactly where he had indicated. Then, after wondering for several seconds whether it was okay, she gingerly took his hand, clasping his index- and middle-finger in her tiny grip.

"Alright, ready?" He asked, to which she nodded, steeling herself for whatever would come. "Then here we go!"

Illya had thought she was ready for anything. She had been prepared for flight, for suddenly sinking through the floor, for being picked up by some flying animal, even for teleportation.

But when her room was suddenly replaced by walls of Rainbow Light, that shifted and twisted with the most magnificent of colours, and she felt as if she was being propelled through space at millions of kilometres per hour, she again could not stop her mouth from falling open, and she could not prevent herself from screaming in a mixture of awe, joy, exhilaration, and fear.

Then it was over, and Illya found herself screaming at Shirou, who lifted an eyebrow at the noise.

She shut her mouth immediately, with an audible 'tack', and blushed red when he smirked.

"How was that?" He asked her with a grin. "Much better than flying, wasn't it?"

"Much bet-? I-It was… I don't…" Illya spluttered, before she looked around, realising they were standing in a massive hall that was stuffed to the brim with all kinds of objects. "What was that? Where are we?"

"That, my dear little sister, was the Bifrost." Shirou explained, clearly enjoying how shocked she looked. "You could say it's an interdimensional tunnel that, once I have mastered it, allows me to travel between places, even places that exist in different dimensions. At the moment however, I am limited to transporting myself to this place, my Vault, in which my treasures have been stored."

"Your treasures?" Illya asked, realising as she looked around that most of the objects seemed ridiculously expensive to say the least. "…Are those Mystic Codes?"

"Hm? Oh those, those are-"

"Is that a real Enchanted Egyptian Deathmask?"

"Well, it is-"

"Are those Rainbow-class gems?"

"Illya, let me explain-"

"Are those objects made out of Mithril?"

"That is not-"

"Is it just a trick of the light or are those piles of gold actually as big as the castle?"

"Come now-"

"Is that what I think it is?"

"IILYA!"

The white-haired girl was shocked from her stupor when Shirou shouted her name, and she turned back to him with a glazed expression.

"Big brother, what is all this?"

"I was about to explain." He sighed, before laying Sella and Leysritt down on a large sofa that had been standing nearby and Projecting rope to bind them with. "As I said, this is my Vault. In here, all my treasures have been stored."

"This is all yours?!"

"I inherited it."

"From whom?"

"Well, that is a long story." Shirou sighed again, rubbing the back of his head, before looking around until his eye fell on two comfortable-looking fauteuils standing nearby, which Illya was rather sure hadn't been there before. "Why don't you sit down? I'll explain as much as I can as soon as I have these two secured."

"…Alright." Illya agreed after a moment, before walking over to and taking place in one of the aforementioned fauteuils. From there, she watched as he finished tying her maids up, after which he made his way over to her.

"Well then." He mused after he took place on the other fauteuil. "I suppose this all started several months ago, with this."

A small hammer suddenly appeared in his grip, and he showed it to her.

"This?" Illya asked dubiously, studying the thing that to her looked like a very normal hammer. "What does this hammer have to do with anything?"

"Everything, little sister." Shirou smiled, his face radiating a massive mixture of emotions, ranging from happiness to exasperation to sadness. "Everything."

---

"Y-You cannot be h-here! T-This is sovereign ground. You have no right to be here!" The small, scrawny man cried in outrage, his eyes spitting fire as he glared at the Executors surrounding him. "The Clocktower will be most wrought when they hear about this, Church-scum! You will regret it!"

Even after the leader of the Italian Meluastea-outpost had seen his base burned down around him, seen his underlings be slaughtered or captured, and now had nothing but a brutal questioning by the Church's interrogators to look forward to, he remained the spiteful, blustering man he'd been at the beginning of the confrontation, seemingly entirely unaffected by the events of the past hours.

Even the fact that some of the Executors had already kicked him around, giving him a severe beatdown after they'd discovered how many innocent people had been killed under his command, couldn't douse his spirit. He took the pain in stride and continued screaming his head off at anyone who entered his line of sight, and then screaming at anyone and anything after they'd blindfolded him.

It was almost impressive, in a strangely pathetic kind of way.

Not that his perseverance would earn him any respect from the Executors, nor did it influence their behaviour in any way. His threats were ignored, his insults shrugged off, and his attempts at bribing them were stonewalled at every turn. Members of the Burial Agency didn't last long without thick skin, and they were by nature incorruptible.

No one even acknowledged him outside of what was absolutely necessary, least of all Kayla, who despised braggards like him, and only felt her hatred for the man increase the longer he talked.

At least he was no longer a threat to anyone now that they had destroyed his powerbase and severed him from any lifelines he might have had. Now all that they had to do was deliver him and his compatriots to the Church, for a proper investigation.

They, that being Kayla and her team, were currently standing just outside the remains of the Italian outpost of the Meluastea, in a small field located a few kilometres away from Napoli, discussing the past battle while taking stock of everything they'd found inside.

Or at least, they tried to, but the constant screaming they were subjected to by the outpost's former master wasn't making things easy for them. Even if they didn't listen to what he had to say, his voice was loud, shrill, and carried very well.

"Do you think the Meluastea will let this go unanswered?! Do you think Lady Barthomeloi will let you get away with this?! You better release me this instant, or your ends will be long and painful!"

"Can't we just knock him unconscious?" Lily, one of Kayla's closest friends, grumbled in annoyance, balling her fist as she glared at their captive. "It's not like he's going to be of any use now. I say we knock him out and let the interrogators wake him up again. Then they can deal with his screaming."

Kayla opened her mouth to refuse Lily's request, before she stilled, realising that there was no reason not to do exactly as Lily said. They indeed did not need the man for anything else, and him being unconscious would make things far easier for them.

"Go ahead." She thus nodded to Lily, who grinned widely, before she hopped over the bound man, who was lying on his back on the ground, and gave him a right hook to the chin.

The ensuing silence was heavenly, and Kayla could see several of her colleagues letting out breaths of relief.

Lily then came bouncing back, eagerly holding out her hand for a high-five, which Kayla immediately reciprocated.

Kayla was glad she had Lily with her on this trip. The other woman was three years older than she, but they still worked very well together, and really, despite Lily being older, she very much acted like Kayla's little sister, somehow without making it annoying at all.

Lily was skilled at combat, an excellent tracker, had a good head for tactics, she was discrete, capable, and intelligent, and had a great sense of humour.

In short, she was someone you should be glad to have on your side, both as an ally and as a friend.

She was also beautiful to a point where it was almost unearthly, with wavy, brown hair, the softest features imaginable on a human face, and eyes that shone like amethysts, a very sharp contrast with Kayla's own rough features that almost made her seem like a burly man if the light was dim enough, but that had never prevented them from getting along like a house on fire.

That was why Kayla hadn't hesitated to ask Lily to join bishop Dilo's taskforce to deal with the people behind the creation of the mundane Dead Apostles. The brunette was extremely faithful to the Church, meaning that she hated such heretics with a passion, but she was also discrete enough not to start blabbing about it to every person she knew.

There were also several other people in their small taskforce, including but not limited to Andrew, Jonah, Antonioch, Mira, and Sidonus, all of whom Kayla was friendly with, but Lily really was her best friend, and the one she had trusted with the role of her second-in-command.

"What did you find, Lily?" Kayla then got back to business, taking advantage of the absence of noise now that the Mage had been silenced.

"Nothing of any particular interest, I'm afraid." Lily sighed, before she bounced back with a smile. "We managed to save twenty-five people though, and delivered them to a hospital, so that's something at least."

"Indeed." Kayla nodded with a smile of her own. "Protecting people from heresies is our duty."

"As is smiting heretics." Lily's smile turned a touch feral. "We killed fourteen Mages and captured seven more, including their leader. Not that I expect those survivors to last much longer either once we turn them over to the interrogators."

"Good riddance." Kayla huffed. Normally, she'd feel a bit more troubled about condemning people to torture and execution, but in this case, it was really easy. "Maybe Asmodai can make them repent before they die."

"Maybe." Lily nodded, though her expression suggested that she doubted even the Church's chief interrogator could make the Mages feel even the slightest bit of remorse.

"Did you find anything about Dead Apostles though?" Kayla continued, addressing the main topic of the day.

"No, and nothing about the Alva either." Lily pouted slightly, looking back over her shoulder at the clouds of smoke that were rising from the ruins that had been the outpost a few hours before. "We did find some information, but from what we can see, it seems it's the Meluastea who really pull the strings in these outposts. The Alva are just small fry in comparison, and they didn't have any presence here."

"And you are certain of this?" Kayla asked to verify one last time.

"Jonah, Mira, and I ransacked that place from top to bottom, Kay. There was nothing there." Lily was adamant in her statement, waving her hand loosely towards a tall and tanned man and a dark-skinned woman, who approached once they saw Lily's gesture. "Tell her, Jonah. There was nothing in there about Dead Apostles."

"I'll say." Jonah scoffed, joining them where they stood as he puffed on his pipe. "Plenty of other horrible stuff though. When you told us about the mundane Dead Apostles, Kayla, I thought that was the worst thing I'd heard all year, and that very little could top it. Now that I have seen Witches engage in actual Demonology though, my standards have shifted a bit."

"I'm surprised you are still alive honestly." Mira added, also joining them. "When I followed you and saw the papers on Demonology, I half expected to find a Demon chewing on your face when I caught up to you."

"They'd spit me right out." Jonah smirked, before he turned to Kayla again. "Sorry to disappoint, boss, but hey, even though there was nothing about mundane Dead Apostles in that base, we did manage to destroy a lot of heresies, so that's good, isn't it?"

"It is." Kayla nodded, biting her lip in thought. "Really, it is."

"Yet you are not happy." Lily concluded, peering curiously at Kayla. "Had you hoped we would find more on the Alva?"

"Yes." Kayla admitted, before shaking her head, trying to find the right words to express what was bothering her. "It's just that… have any of you ever seen any Magi engage in such atrocities on such a large scale before?"

There was a beat of silence following her question, and then it was Jonah who spoke up first.

"No, I haven't. While it is so that I have seen many Witches commit foul crimes before, they always did so in small groups that were few and far in-between. It is quite unlike them to gather so many together in a single space just for the purpose of vile deeds, and this is but one outpost of a number, if we can believe your Clocktower friends. Even for the Witches, that is… quite unprecedented."

"So they got bolder. Is that really a cause for concern?" Lily asked, before raising a fist. "We'll just have to strike them down even harder if that's the case."

"It was a very sudden change." Kayla liked her friend's enthusiasm, but she feared it wasn't quite that easy. "I am more concerned with what, or who, brought it about."

"Do you think there's someone behind it all?" Mira asked directly, looking Kayla in the eyes. "Someone even above the Meluastea, who orchestrated all of this from the shadows? Who emboldened the Mages into forming these 'cabals' of evil?"

"That sounds like quite a stretch." Jonah said, sounding unsure. "I mean, Witches are notoriously difficult to control, even for other Witches."

"You have a point, Jonah, but think about what Lord El-Melloi told us." Kayla reminded them. "This recent storm of crimes from the Meluastea is threatening to tear the Magus Association apart. I cannot imagine any Magus-family, especially one of the ruling families, would just do that without a very, very good reason. They have behaved themselves well enough over the past centuries. What has changed? And why has it changed so rapidly?"

"So someone is pulling the strings from the shadows." Lily gasped, before shaking her head. "No, wait, I cannot imagine any one person could have this much influence on an organisation as powerful as the Clocktower."

"Multiple people then?" Jonah tried. "Perhaps we're dealing with a group who wants to see the Magus Association fall? Or at least crippled enough not to be able to act out in a large way? If it is torn in two, I imagine it wouldn't be able to enforce its laws anymore, which would certainly benefit some people."

"That sounds like something the Church would do." Mira smiled, though there was no joy in the expression. "But the Pope would never allow it, never mind most of the Cardinals."

"The fact that it is 'most' and not 'all' does make me worry." Jonah deadpanned, but he went ignored.

"Then who else would do such a thing?" Kayla asked, looking the other three in the eyes one by one. "Who would stand to gain from crippling the Magus Association like this? And why would they do so now?"

The other three did not have an answer for her.

"I may have a suggestion."

That was when Sidonus appeared. The old, grizzled man, who, despite his age, had the size and strength of a bear, walked up to them with an expression that was even grimmer than his normal one.

Sidonus was the oldest member of their little taskforce, and his age was clearly visible. Unlike bishop Dilo, who had aged quite gently, Sidonus was mostly bald, with the little hair that remained being stark grey, had many wrinkles on his skin, and had a scar that spanned the entire right-half of his face.

The rest of his body wasn't visible, as it was clad in a massive set of blue armour, but if it had been, Kayla was sure it would have looked just as aged.

No insult was intended though. Sidonus might have been old, but he was still an immensely valuable member of the Burial Agency. He could bench-press three hundred kilograms, cut three Dead Apostles in half with one swing of his massive sword, and was one of the Church's greatest blade-masters.

Sidonus had been a member of the Church for as long as Kayla could remember, much like bishop Dilo. In fact, just like Bishop Dilo, Sidonus' true age was unknown, just like the number of years he'd worked for the Burial Agency.

Despite this similarity with the bishop however, Dilo and Sidonus almost never interacted. They didn't necessarily dislike each other, but their methods, look on life, and general behaviour was too different for either man to stand the presence of the other for any amount of time longer than a single day.

They were perfectly cordial whenever they met, but they did try to keep those meetings to a minimum.

In her younger years, it had caused Kayla no small amount of grief that the men wanted nothing to do with each other, especially since she got along so well with them both. As time went by however, and Kayla had gained enough wisdom to see that some problems in life just couldn't be solved, she'd accepted that there was nothing she could do about it.

So she had resigned herself to their enmity for each other, and remained very close to both men, close enough to be trusted with a mission by bishop Dilo, and to be able to invite Sidonus on that mission and have him accept immediately.

Sidonus being on this mission did make the power balance a bit wonky though. Technically, Kayla was the leader and Lily was the second-in-command, yet Sidonus had so much seniority over them all that Kayla, Lily, Jonah, and Mira immediately stood at attention when he approached. Sidonus however just scoffed at the show of respect and motioned for them to stand at ease.

"I couldn't help but overhear what you were talking about, youngsters." The old man then spoke in his gruff, booming voice. "And though I must warn you not to poke your nose into matters where it might very well get bitten off, I also know you ain't gonna stop until you get your answers."

"So we were right then?" Jonah asked. "Someone is behind all this?"

"What I am going to tell you now, is some stuff I am technically not supposed to know." Sidonus grunted, making an attempt at lowering his voice, though it still boomed across the small field they were standing in. "Lily, can you make sure the Mage is properly unconscious?"

Lily wasted not a second in going over to the outpost's master and giving him a firm kick in the ribs, testing to see if he was awake. When he remained stubbornly unconscious though, she sped back to the group.

"He's out."

"Good, then listen up and remember to never share this with anyone." Sidonus leaned in, and the rest of the group unconsciously followed his example. "I first heard about this from some… 'friends' of mine, and I later verified with several other sources. As such, I can be reasonably certain that my information is correct. The Dead Apostle Ancestors are planning to conduct the Aylesbury Ritual soon."

"Oh no! Not the Aylesbury Ritual!" Jonah grabbed his head in both hands as he whisper-shouted in panic, before he stilled. "What's the Aylesbury Ritual?"

Sidonus sighed at the question, while Mira knocked Jonah on the head, Kayla facepalmed in exasperation, and Lily giggled in amusement.

Then again, it wasn't as if the other three knew more. Sidonus pronounced the name as if it was something terrible, yet Kayla had to admit she did not know what he was talking about, and neither did Mira or Lily if their expressions were anything to go by.

Fortunately, Sidonus was prompt to explain.

"The Aylesbury Ritual is a very large, very foul ritual that was cooked up by several Dead Apostles Ancestors centuries ago. It serves to awaken the Dark Six, the first Dead Apostle to ever be created by the Crimson Moon. This Dark Six is supposed to be the most powerful of all Apostles, close to Primate Murder even, and most importantly, it is said that it holds the key to resurrecting Crimson Moon Brunestud."

"Resurrecting the Bloodsucker God?!" Jonah hissed, breathing in sharply when Sidonus nodded. "That is… How do you know this?"

"Crown told several of the higher-ups about it when they questioned him. One of those higher-ups is an old friend of mine, who passed the info on to me. I later verified it by questioning a few Apostles."

"Questioning Apostles?" Mira sounded puzzled, and Kayla had to agree. She had never heard of someone being able to extract information from those monsters before. Any Apostles that could be made to talk were fledgelings without any useful information, while those that did have something useful to say were too resilient to break under any kind of torture.

"There are ways to get them to talk." Sidonus grumbled. "Don't ask me about them, you aren't old enough to know. Let's just say those ways saved my sorry ass more times than I care to count. And yes, Asmodai knows about them too."

"So you are certain?" Kayla asked, feeling the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"Completely. The Ancestors are preparing to bring their Master back from the dead."

"The Crimson Moon returning… It would spell disaster." Lily whispered, turning even paler than she already was. "Humanity couldn't defeat him last time, and we have only grown weaker since a thousand years ago."

"The Wizard-Marshall vanquished it last time. Perhaps he can do it again?" Jonah' mouth twisted as if he'd tasted something unpleasant at the thought of having to rely on a Mage, and one that has become an Apostle at that, but he was practical enough to know they needed the Kaleidoscope if they wanted humanity to survive.

"The Kaleidoscope hasn't been seen in decades." Mira shook her head. "And rumours say he is unreliable to the core."

"Then what should we-?"

"That is enough!" Sidonus cut in, his booming voice silencing them immediately. "I told you this in order to make you cease poking your nose everywhere it doesn't belong. Leave the planning to deal with Brunestud to the higher-ups. Focus on your own tasks."

"That's easy for you to say." Jonah grumbled, before a glare from Sidonus made him shut up.

"The Crimson Moon is not your problem to deal with." The grizzly veteran repeated, before he pointed at the unconscious Mage. "Focus on the Meluastea, and the mundane Dead Apostles. Someone has to."

"Indeed." Kayla agreed, realising they had gone off track. "We only wanted to know what this had to do with the Meluastea anyway."

"That's obvious. The Ancestors are planning to conduct the Aylesbury Ritual. I think we can safely assume the Magus Association does not want that to happen." Sidonus began, to which they all nodded. Magi were heretics, but even they didn't want the Bloodsucker God to return. "So the Ancestors pull a few strings, and ensure that the Magus Association is too busy imploding on itself to stop them."

"Are you saying the Ancestors are behind this explosion in heresies?" Kayla asked sharply. If that was true, then that information had to be given to bishop Dilo at once, if only because it was apparently directly connected to the return of the Crimson Moon. "We must tell bishop Dilo then."

"I think he's managed to connect those dots himself already. A warning from you would be superfluous. Besides, I doubt the Ancestors are the only ones who are feeding this conflict." Sidonus replied, crossing his massive arms over an even larger chest. "Let's not forget there are many others who would profit from the Magus Association falling apart. Instead of the Ancestors, maybe you should focus on those people?"

"I suppose the Ancestors could not have done it by themselves." Jonah agreed, his expression turning pensive. "But then again, any accomplices they have would probably be Witches, and part of the Magus Association themselves. Are we even allowed to start investigating them?"

"We could warn the Magus Association that some of them are likely working together with the Ancestors." Mira suggested. "Or maybe we could ask the higher-ups from the Church to work something out for us so we can do an investigation?"

"No." Kayla shook her head. "It is already a miracle that there are some people within the Clocktower who are willing to work with us to deal with the mundane Dead Apostles. None of them will stand for us poking around in their business. A warning is all we can give them."

"And a warning without proof will be ignored." Sidonus grunted, grinding his teeth.

"Alright, so how about this?" Jonah eagerly raised his hand as if he was in class. "We go to London, pretending to be Witches, and we get those Witch-friends of yours, Kayla, to help us get inside the Clocktower, and then we perform our investigation."

"That is a monumentally stupid plan." Mira sneered, before she suddenly smiled brightly. "I'm in."

"So am I." Sidonus immediately agreed. "It sounds like a lot of fun."

"Oh, me too." Lily jumped in, a thousand-watt grin on her face. "I've always wanted to see the Clocktower."

"How did we suddenly arrive at a plan to infiltrate the Clocktower?" Kayla spluttered, having lost control of the conversation entirely. When the other members of her team gave her imploring looks however, she caved under the peer-pressure. "Fine. We'll give it a try. I'll call Bazett and Lord El-Melloi, and I'll also be running this plan by bishop Dilo. If they don't agree though, we won't be going."

And Kayla was certain that they wouldn't agree. Lord El-Melloi and bishop Dilo were intelligent, rational men, while this was an insane plan.

No way it would happen.

---

"And that is how I ended up in the Einzbern-castle." Shirou finished his story again. This was the second time so far that he'd held a monologue to Illya in the very short time that he'd known her, and if he hadn't become impervious to sore throats, he'd surely be having one now.

In the first monologue, he had mainly talked about Kiritsugu, Sakura, and Ayako. In this second monologue, which had taken about an hour, he had spoken mostly about himself, giving Illya a quick rundown of things he felt she should know. "In short, this is the real Mjolnir, though from a different universe, and I'm becoming a God. I also have two girlfriends, a big sister who's with the Yakuza, a house in Fuyuki, a career as a vigilante that went nowhere, and I am now an apprentice to Lord El-Melloi the Second."

It was the third time so far that he'd told someone his life story, with the first time being to Sakura and the second time to Ayako, and Shirou was rather sure it wasn't nearly the last time yet he'd have to do so. He still owed Taiga an explanation after all, and he wouldn't be surprised if he had to come clean to Rin as well at some point in the future, and there was no guarantee he wouldn't meet anyone else who he became close enough with to tell them the story as well.

It was a bit repetitive, having to repeat it all over and over again, not to mention it was getting longer and longer as time went on, but at least he was getting better at storytelling every time. Illya didn't have nearly as many questions to ask as Sakura and Ayako did.

Though perhaps that was less because he was so clear in his retelling and more because she was so gobsmacked that she could only stare at him with her mouth open and her eyes wide as saucers.

It was only to be expected. Unlike Sakura and especially Ayako, Illya had had an actual Magus-childhood, or at least something resembling it, and thus had been properly taught about concepts like Godhood, the True Magics, Phantasmal Beasts, and Divine Weapons. As such, his story had to be much more mind-boggling to her than it had been for his girlfriends.

Rin would probably have a similar reaction once he told her. In cases such as these, having more knowledge could easily be a curse.

"As I said, this Vault is a pocket dimension which only I can enter." He continued when it became clear Illya wasn't going to say anything any time soon. "It is the safest place for you at the moment, and it would be for the best if you stayed here, at least until we're back in Fuyuki."

Illya still didn't react.

"I will of course visit you as often as I can, and you won't lack anything in terms of food, water, entertainment, or anything else, I promise you that. Sella and Leysritt can stay here as well, though they'll have to be restrained the entire time if I cannot manage to break the conditioning yet, and I'll see if I can get a phone to work in here as well, so you can talk with Sakura and Ayako. Maybe you can already get to know them?"

When Illya remained quiet yet again, Shirou began to get worried, and he reached out to poke her forehead.

"Huh! What?" She spluttered when he flicked her, her eyes gaining a normal look again instead of the glazed one from before. "Uh, yeah, Vault, stay in here, entertainment, Sella and Leysritt, phone, your girlfriends. Got it!"

"…Okay. Are you alright though?"

"Peachy." Illya gave a very stiff nod. "I'm great. I'm just… a little surprised, that's all. I mean, mom and dad didn't say anything about Divine weapons, and my dreams didn't say either, so this is coming as a bit of a shock, but I'm sure I'll cope, yes, I'll cope, I'm fine, can't you see I'm fine?!"

"Illya!" Shirou interrupted her when she began rambling, grabbing her shoulders tightly. "Breathe! Calm down."

Illya did as she was told, taking several deep breaths, before she nodded, and Shirou let go of her again.

"…Sorry."

"Don't be, I'm aware that this can be shocking." Shirou assured her, smiling as kindly as he could. "I can barely believe it myself sometimes, even after these months, so I can't blame you for being overwhelmed by it all now that I have crammed it into one hour of storytelling."

"Right, right." Illya nodded, still looking frazzled. "Please talk about something else now. I need some time to process this."

"Very well." Shirou nodded, before deciding to discuss the plan for the coming weeks with her. "I'll be at the Clocktower for a few weeks more. I still have something to finish there, and I suppose suddenly leaving right after I returned from Germany would be suspicious to many people. In about a month though, the summer holidays will end, so I'll return to Fuyuki no matter what."

"Hm." Illya nodded, not looking either happy or annoyed at the information.

"When we're back home, you are free to do whatever you want. You can stay with me and the girls, but I completely understand if you would rather go out and explore the world. In the latter case however, you will have to wait until I have removed the conditioning from Sella and Leysritt, so they can accompany you."

"I'd rather stay with you." Illya said immediately.

"I am very happy to hear that." Shirou wanted to laugh, but something in Illya's tone prevented him from feeling amused. "But don't you think that might become boring very quickly? I'm sure you'll be quite done with Fuyuki after a few years."

"I won't be alive after a few years." Illya's voice became clinical as she said those words, her eyes turning dull. "I am a Homunculus. I was made to be powerful, to be an ideal Master. My lifespan was sacrificed in return, and I won't live to twenty. Neither will Sella or Leysritt."

"Oh, good that you mention that! Don't worry, I got something for that." Shirou's smile became wider when Illya looked up at him in surprise. "I swore to save you, and if that means turning you into a human to make sure you can live a long life, then I will do so. Though, you might not become entirely human, considering I am not either."

"What are you talking about?" Illya demanded, fire returning to her voice and gaze. "Turning Homunculi into humans is impossible. It's an expression of the Third True Magic. It has been lost for centuries!"

"It has been found again." Shirou grinned proudly, before rubbing the back of his head. "Or at least, I have found an analogue."

More like, 'had been handed an analogue by a friendly Space God', but Illya was looking frazzled enough without him telling her that as well.

Plenty of time to fill her in about everything in the coming months. No need to rush it even more than he'd already been doing.

"An analogue…?" Illya blinked rapidly, before looking around, at the Vault, the pocket dimension, in which she was still present, and then she laughed weakly. "If you say so, big brother."

"And I do say so." Shirou grinned, before he rose from the sofa. "Alright, I don't want to be rude, but I need to get moving again. I'll just take a look at Sella and Leysritt to see if I can break their conditioning, and then I need to be off."

"Where will you go?" Illya asked, fortunately sounding more curious than sad.

"Unfortunately, I can only exit the Vault at the place where I also entered it." Shirou explained, frowning in thought. "That means I'll be getting out of the Vault in your room. Hopefully, no one has entered it yet and noticed you missing, but in case that they did…"

Shirou then Projected his vigilante-outfit and his mask, putting both on and raising the hood, making himself unrecognisable.

"Oh?" Illya made a curious noise once she saw the disguise.

"This is my Rakurai-outfit." Shirou sighed, feeling almost nostalgic, though not in a very fond way. "If there's anyone waiting for me in your room, this will make sure they don't recognise me at least. They'll still suspect it was Emiya Shirou, but they won't be quite sure."

Upon receiving Illya's nod of understanding, Shirou made his way over to the maids, placing his hands on their foreheads. He was aware that poking around in people's minds like this was unethical, even worse than Hypnosis, but fortunately, the conditioning that the maids had gone through laid at the very surface of their minds.

Their creators hadn't bothered trying to hide it deeper inside their minds, though really, why would they? It was not like they would ever encounter anyone capable of entering and altering minds on a fundamental level, right?

Well now they did, and Shirou found removing the worst of the conditioning to be a total breeze.

He couldn't remove everything, not without critically damaging their psyche, but he doubted they would mind if he didn't completely remove their compulsion to protect and nurture Illya. From what he had seen, they would have done so even if that compulsion hadn't been present.

Not that he planned to leave those traces of compulsion there forever. He would perform the ritual on them too –Illya had referred to them as a big sister and little sister before, so they could be part of the family– and that would remove any remaining locks on their minds.

All's well that ends well, or that was how he believed that expression went.

"Alright, I removed the compulsion." He told Illya, who promptly deadpanned at him. "I'll let them sleep for now. Can I count on you to explain things to them when I return?"

"Uh, yes, you can." Illya nodded, her expression now turning into one of complete and utter resignation.

"Good. I will return soon."

With those final words said, Shirou transported himself out of the Vault again, right into Illya's room. Fortunately, it seemed no one had noticed yet that she was missing, and the Bounded Fields were still disrupted.

Getting outside was even easier than it had been to get in, and before the clock struck five in the afternoon, Shirou had disappeared over the horizon, leaving behind a castle that now lacked three of its previous inhabitants.

---

"Trisha, Trisha!" A young, excited voice called out, the sound echoing through the halls of the mountain base. "Trisha, wait!"

Trisha Fellows, the one called upon, turned around when she heard the voice, and smiled ever so slightly when her young charge came in sight. The small, white-haired girl was practically skipping through the hall, her bright grin only enhancing her adorable features, as her long hair waved behind her. In her right hand, she held a few notepapers, which she was eagerly waving around.

"Lady Animusphere, you shouldn't run and shout like that. It isn't lady-like." She lightly chided the girl, though it fell on deaf ears. After all, Olga Marie Asmleit Animusphere had never been someone who would let her enthusiasm be stemmed by mild scolding.

"I completed the spell! I did it." Olga Marie announced proudly once she'd caught up with Trisha, eagerly showing her a few papers on which an array of complex formulas had been written.

"You did? Already?" Raising an eyebrow at the genuinely impressive feat –she knew the spell Olga Marie was talking about, and it was not something a ten-year-old should be able to complete on her own– she bowed down until she was approximately at the girl's level, before patting her head. "Excellent work, young lady."

"Hehe, thank you!" Olga Marie beamed in pride.

"However." Trisha continued, ceasing her headpatting in favour of pinching the girl's cheek, receiving a squeak of pain and surprise in return. "That does not mean you should run and shout in the halls of your home."

"Ow ow! Ah'm sowwy, Tri'ha." Olga Marie whined, and she pressed both hands against her cheek when Trisha let go again, whimpering softly.

Trisha did not feel guilty though. Olga Marie needed to learn to control her emotions, preferably before she was allowed to leave the Animusphere-estate on her own. If another Magus ever saw her display so much sincerity, they could do a lot worse than pinch her cheek for a moment.

Then again, maybe Trisha was being unduly concerned. It wasn't as if Olga Marie ever acted like that in front of anyone but Trisha and Marisbury. In front of anyone else, she was as cool and guarded as any other Magus, and perfectly capable of holding her own in a conversation, even with a Lord.

Though only if everything went according to her plan. Olga Marie couldn't deal very well with surprises, and it usually only took a few unexpected happenings for her to lose her composure completely.

It fell to Trisha to make sure Olga Marie gained the ability to think on the spot, to not let herself be paralysed by her plans going awry, as thinking on the spot was a vital skill for any Magus who wanted to survive and prosper.

Not that it was easy. Olga Marie's inability to deal with the unforeseen was deeply entrenched in her psyche, and progress was very slow.

Fortunately, they lived inside the Animusphere's home base, located on one of the mountains of the Alps, far away from any enemy Magi, far away from civilisation even. It was where Olga Marie had grown up for the past ten years, and where Trisha had lived ever since she'd been hired by the girl's father.

Trisha Fellows had been taken on as Olga Marie's personal attendant and tutor six years ago, and in that time had basically raised the girl into who she was now.

It went too far to say that they were like mother and daughter –Trisha was only twenty-four after all, way too young to be a mother– but Trisha loved Olga Marie like a younger sister, and Olga Marie loved Trisha like a big sister in turn.

They were definitely closer than they were supposed to be as tutor and student, much closer than Trisha had planned to become with the girl when she had originally taken the job, but considering Olga Marie's situation, that had been entirely unavoidable.

Trisha Fellows liked to pretend she was a hard, strict woman who took no nonsense and had no time for sappy feelings, and most of the time, she managed to pretend that perfectly well. When she had been presented though with a neglected, love-starved girl who had latched on to her from the moment she had been introduced, well…

Her dormant big sister-instinct had activated.

"Trisha, do you think I can show this to dad?" Olga Marie asked eagerly after she'd rubbed away the pain in her cheek, waving the research in Trisha's face. "He'll be happy, right? He'll want to see me."

"…"

Trisha couldn't stop herself from frowning, knowing very well that Marisbury Animusphere did absolutely not want to see his daughter. Not because he was in a bad mood, or because he was in an important meeting, or even because he was busy, no, nothing that benevolent.

Quite simply, Marisbury Animusphere didn't give a damn about Olga Marie, and couldn't be bothered to spend a single moment on 'that useless girl'.

His words, not Trisha's.

In fact, Trisha had just returned from a short meeting with Marisbury, to give him an update on Olga Marie's progress, and though the man had listened politely, he had not given her a second longer than was absolutely necessary and hadn't said a word in return.

Quite simply, he didn't care one single bit about his only daughter. To him, Olga Marie might as well not exist.

The blonde-haired woman searched for the correct words to let the girl down gently, to tell her that her father was busy, but it seemed her prolonged silence was all the answer Olga Marie needed to draw her own conclusions, as her face fell, and she slumped in disappointment.

"…Hey, Trisha." She whispered, giving the woman a pleading look that cut straight to Trisha's heart. "Do you think my work is good?"

"Of course I do!" About that, Trisha did not have to think for a moment. Olga Marie was one of the best students she'd ever seen, far better than Trisha herself had been at that age. "You are doing great!"

"But why doesn't father acknowledge me then?" Olga Marie asked, and Trisha stilled for a second, before deciding to go with the usual excuse.

"Your father is simply very, very busy, lady Animusphere." She explained, only half-lying, since it was true that Marisbury had been working non-stop for all the six years she'd known him, only stopping to eat and sleep. "Ever since that event six years ago, when something went wrong, he's been desperately trying to fix it."

"But I won't take much of his time." Olga Marie tried, though everything in her stance and voice indicated that she had already given up. "Only a few minutes."

"No, my lady." Trisha derived no pleasure from denying her ward, and she felt another stab in her heart when Olga Marie's eyes grew misty, but to her credit, the white-haired girl managed to regain her composure before a single tear fell from her eyes.

"Well then." The girl sighed, her voice as casual as she could make it. "I will continue my research. There were a few parts I struggled with though. Could you help me with them, Trisha?"

"Of course." Trisha nodded, rising from her kneeling position to give a short bow. "That's what I'm here for."

"Thank you." Olga Marie smiled, before she jerked around, with enough speed that Trisha just knew that she was hiding the pain that was now probably apparent on her face again.

Damn that Marisbury! Even if he was busy, or angry, or whatever he was feeling, certainly he could spare a few seconds for his own daughter?! Certainly, he could pretend to care about her, out of duty if nothing else?!

Or failing that, he should at the very least explain why he ignored her. Why he behaved the way he did. Why he had suddenly hired Trisha as a tutor and attendee for Olga Marie six years ago before summarily ignoring the girl from then on.

Something had to have happened at that point. Something had impacted Marisbury enough for him to suddenly discard the daughter he had been at least cordial with before. Trisha didn't know what that something was, but she sure as hell intended to find out.

And once she knew, she could perhaps help Marisbury resolve it, so that he could focus on his daughter again, or she could at least give Olga Marie some actual answers instead of guessing at her father's motives all the time.

Trisha had already started making inquiries from several sources. She didn't know if the event that had changed Marisbury had been personal or something related to his work and research, but it couldn't hurt to try and find out if something monumental had taken place six years ago.

Her inquiries had come up empty though. Nothing especially noteworthy had taken place back then, and certainly nothing related to the Animusphere or even Astromancy in general.

So Trisha had narrowed her search down, and had started going over Marisbury's personal history. It was difficult, especially since she wasn't particularly well-connected nor did she have skills that made information-gathering easier, but eventually, through liberal applications of bribery, begging, and threatening, she had gathered enough pieces of the puzzle to form the beginnings of a picture.

And a grim picture it was.

There were rumours, rumours that, if true, could very well spell the end of the Animusphere entirely. Rumours that could very well explain why Marisbury was being so secretive.

If Trisha was interpreting the picture correctly, if Marisbury had indeed done what she thought he'd done, then he, Olga Marie, and Trisha as well probably, would be summarily executed the moment it got out.

Marisbury, that utter and complete fool, had associated himself with Doctor Heartless, who was the previous head of the Department of Modern Magical Theories, and a feared criminal who was suspected in numerous murders of very important people.

Marisbury had to have gone mad, that was the only explanation. The only explanation why he would involve himself with that monster, who had received a killing order from the Barthomeloi-family itself and had a bounty on his head that would be enough for a hundred people to live comfortably for many decades.

Trisha herself had been shocked enough to temporarily put a hold on her investigations, to immediately distance herself from her search and pretend she knew nothing. That was how terrifying Doctor Heartless was to a simple Magus like her.

Recently however, prompted by Olga Marie's increasing depression and insecurity about her father ignoring her at every turn, she had begun looking again, having decided to brave the dangers and bear the consequences.

Though at this point, she was no longer sure whether she wanted to help Marisbury deal with his issues so he could focus on Olga Marie again, or whether she wanted to gather enough evidence to have the man sentenced to death so Olga Marie could get out from under his shadow.

It was something to carefully think about.

Nothing was going to happen though until she had gathered enough knowledge to form a coherent picture, so that was the first thing she should focus on. Or rather, the second thing, since the first thing was of course her job.

With that in mind, Trisha put on her stern teacher-expression and followed behind Olga Marie. She had been hired to teach and guide the girl, so teach and guide her she would.

Not that it was a chore. That girl was a delight.

---

When they had found the file in the hide-out of the Meluastea, Waver had seen immediately that it was the metaphorical jackpot.

The file was basically every cop's dream, containing not just entire lists of names of people who were in league with the Meluastea, but also their locations, their future plans, the resources they had available, the passwords they used to communicate, and many other secrets the Meluastea probably didn't want anyone to know.

It was everything they needed to finally deal with that rotten family once and for all, and Waver had expected Lady Montmorency and Lady Barthomeloi to be quite happy upon receiving it.

Even in his wildest dream however, Waver had not foreseen that the file would make Lady Montmorency cackle like a madwoman.

"Kekekekeke! Hahahahahahahaha!" The woman had been laughing for almost a solid minute now, and she showed no sign of stopping any time soon, only pausing every few seconds to take a breath, before she continued cackling. "Bwahahahaha! Mwuhahahaha!"

On and on it went, while Waver stood at attention, not daring to move a muscle, and Fujimaru shuffled his feet, more relaxed than Waver yet clearly uncomfortable with the situation all the same.

Even Lady Barthomeloi looked puzzled and didn't seem to know what to do with the behaviour of her underling, sitting still behind her desk as she waited for Lady Montmorency to stop laughing and get to business.

When Waver had entered the office of Lady Barthomeloi a few minutes earlier, Fujimaru in tow, he expected to be done quickly. After all, the file contained everything the ladies wanted to know, and there would be no need for either him or his apprentice to stay for longer than a minute to explain where they had gotten it from.

The first part of the meeting had gone well enough. Lady Barthomeloi had listened to their report about destroying the German base, had nodded approvingly when they finished, she had accepted the file from them, and had given them one of her very rare smiles when she discovered just what that file was.

Nice and easy, it hadn't taken more than thirty seconds.

Then Lady Barthomeloi had handed the file over to Lady Montmorency however, and instead of being composed and focused like her boss, she had started laughing like a third-rate anime villain, lacking only the reflecting spectacles that would have completed the picture.

Honestly, Waver understood that she was happy, but she should stop laughing now. It was getting really uncomfortable to stand here and listen to the laughter, while his apprentice exchanged confused looks with the Vice-Director, like they were old friends or something.

It was common knowledge that one didn't just stare one's betters into the eyes, but apparently, no one had told Fujimaru or Lady Barthomeloi about that. He appeared to have no problem staring that woman straight in the eyes, and she appeared to be unbothered by that in return.

Well, fine, they could gaze into each other's eyes all they wanted. Waver would just stare at the wall and pray this would all be over soon.

"Hahahaha, hahahaha, haha, ha." As if his prayer had been heard, Lady Montmorency's laughter came to an end a few moments later, and she panted for a short while, trying to regain her breath. Then she looked up again, giving them an approving smile. "Excellent work, boys. We were actually going to wait until all task forces returned from their missions to attack the nests, but with this, we can go on the attack immediately."

"And when you say immediately…?" Fujimaru asked leadingly.

"Tomorrow." It was Lady Barthomeloi who answered, in her characteristically sharp voice. "I already have my forces on stand-by. I shall give them the signal to start preparing for the purge as soon as this meeting is over."

"Great, you do that. I presume you don't need us anymore?" Waver asked, eager to get out of the office again.

"Your services are no longer needed, Lord El-Melloi." Lady Barthomeloi nodded, before turning to Fujimaru. "But your talents very much are, mister Fujimaru."

"Of course." Fujimaru nodded. "And they are at your disposal. We had an agreement, and I plan on keeping it."

His answer seemed to satisfy Lady Barthomeloi very much, and the brunette leaned back in her chair ever so slightly, content to let Lady Montmorency take over again.

"Your job isn't very difficult, boy." Said elderly lady explained, waving her hand in a dismissive motion. "It's very simple actually. We take you along with us to various places in the Clocktower, and you point us towards any secret rooms, hidden panels, and trap doors you can find."

"Yes, I expected as much." Fujimaru nodded.

"Do you have any idea how long that will take?" Waver cut in, his honour and pride demanding he get involved with this matter, if only because his student was. "I assume he'll be working with you all day, which means he can't do any school work. I need to know how many lectures he will miss."

"That is hard to say, Lord El-Melloi." Lady Montmorency frowned. "It will take as long as it needs to. We have to investigate the entire Departments of Archaeology and Mineralogy after all, which are immensely big complexes."

"Don't forget the Department of Botany." Fujimaru suddenly added, before blinking when three pairs of eyes turned towards him in a flash. "What?"

"The Department of Botany? Why?" Lady Barthomeloi asked, cocking her head to the side. "To the best of our knowledge, nothing illegal is taking place there."

"Really? Because I have someone who swears that they met with a Meluastea to discuss forbidden matters in the Department of Botany, behind a fake wall that is covered in cursed ivy." Fujimaru protested, sounding very certain of himself. "That is exactly what he said, and I am confident he was not lying."

"The Department of Botany?" Lady Montmorency asked again, before shaking her head. "No, that's impossible. Lady Raquel Archelot, the former head, would never have stood for anything illegal taking place there."

"I concur." Lady Barthomeloi agreed. "She was honourable to a fault. She never would have allowed the Meluastea to infect her department."

"Yet that is what happened." Fujimaru was adamant however, and didn't back down even when the two most important people of the Clocktower tried to deny his words. Waver admired his bravery, even if he himself would never have done it out of health-concerns.

Lady Barthomeloi frowned at the redhead for a few moments, before coming to a decision.

"I will speak with Lady Archelot in the morning." She announced, taking Waver aback by the fact that she would do so herself, instead of sending someone else, which was the usual procedure. "Fujimaru, you will be joining me. You may present your tale to her, and we shall see how she reacts."

"Ah…" Fujimaru was clearly taken aback by that, and Waver completely understood. This was getting weirder and weirder. Not only would the Vice-Director talk with someone accused of crimes herself, but she was also going to take the accuser with her so they could have a demented debate of some kind?

This Raquel Archelot had to be really special to get this kind of preferential treatment, and it really, really concerned Waver that he didn't have the slightest inkling as to why that woman was so special.

"It won't take long, boy." Lady Montmorency assured Fujimaru kindly, completely misunderstanding why the teen had a difficult expression on his face. "Lady Archelot is retired, and lives outside of the Clocktower, but if you leave through the main entrance, her house is only a five-minute walk away."

"I… see." Fujimaru nodded after a moment, visibly resigning himself to his fate, before turning to Lady Barthomeloi. "Where shall we meet tomorrow? And when?"

"Meet me at the main entrance at eight o'clock sharp." As expected of the Vice-Director, it was not a suggestion, but an order. "The purge will start the moment we return from her residence. Do not be late."

"Certainly not." Fujimaru nodded.

"As for you, Lord El-Melloi, I assume you still want to join the purge?" Lady Montmorency took over from her boss again, looking at Waver.

"I do." Waver nodded. "If my student is present, I must be present as well."

"Naturally. Be present at the main entrance of the Department of Archaeology at nine o'clock tomorrow. As Lady Barthomeloi stated, we will attack only when she returns, but I estimate that to be at nine."

"Is it not unwise to let the Meluastea know that we are onto them and that we are going to attack? I mean, will they not flee?" Fujimaru asked with a frown, but unlike before, Waver could actually answer this question.

"Not at all." He replied, confidently lighting a cigar. "Once they notice it is the Department of Policies that is after them, they will assume all exits are sealed, and then they will burrow in their Workshops, hoping to outlast us."

"Outlast us?"

"Wait until we make a mistake that will allow them to slip past our guards." Lady Montmorency explained. "As Lord El-Melloi said, they will hide under their Bounded Fields, hope that we cannot enter, and wait us out."

"…That sounds like wishful thinking." Fujimaru huffed, but he was taken aback when the others, Waver included, shook their heads.

"It is, unfortunately, quite effective." Lady Barthomeloi said, a hint of a pained expression on her face. "If the Bounded Fields are old and strong, it may take us months to get past them. More than enough time for the guards to grow complacent."

"I will post killing-teams at every exit of the Clocktower of course, but even that is no guarantee." Lady Montmorency added, looking outright pained.

"And there is no one who can break through Bounded Fields faster than that?" Fujimaru asked, before his lips twisted into a wry grin. "Or would such a person get an immediate Sealing Designation?"

"…I cannot give a definite answer to that." Lady Barthomeloi answered after a second of thought. "It would depend on what type of Magecraft they used to bypass the Bounded Fields. If it is especially innovative and powerful, it would be remiss to let the wielder leave."

"Don't get us wrong by the way, we can actually get into the Department of Archaeology easily enough." Lady Montmorency clarified. "The Bounded Fields in the more public parts cannot be too strong, or they wouldn't be able to receive visitors. It is the more secluded and personal spaces, especially the Workshops, that will be more difficult to penetrate."

"And find." Lady Barthomeloi added. "They are often hidden well."

"Yes, but finding them will be my task." Fujimaru nodded, and the wry grin turned into an honest, reassuring smile. "I intend to succeed."

"Excellent." Lady Barthomeloi returned Fujimaru's smile with an approving nod.

"Do you have any more questions?" Lady Montmorency asked.

"I don't." Waver shook his head.

"Neither do I." Fujimaru added.

"Then you are dismissed." Lady Barthomeloi said.

And with that, the meeting was over, and Waver and Fujimaru were promptly shooed out of the office by Lady Montmorency. Waver was only too happy to leave though, and Fujimaru also seemed relieved to be out of there again.

Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency weren't evil or unpleasant or anything, but they were way too intimidating for a coward like Waver to be near to for any significant amount of time.

"Lord El-Melloi." Fujimaru spoke up once they had left the hallway in which Lady Barthomeloi's office was located, and Waver gave him a curious look, prompting him to continue. "Should I not have said anything? About the Department of Botany?"

"No, you did well." Waver immediately reassured the redhead. "If we want to take down the Meluastea completely and not leave some parts of them to fester, it is necessary to have all the information. The Vice-Director might not have liked what you told her, but that is no reason not to tell the truth."

"Right, I figured as much." Fujimaru nodded with a vaguely relieved expression on his face. "It was a bit strange though, that she decided I'll be going on a trip with her tomorrow, all of a sudden."

"Yes, that was unexpected." Waver grunted, pulling a cigar out of his pocket and gratefully accepting the flame that sprang from Fujimaru's thumb to light it. "Lady Archelot must be quite a woman if Lady Barthomeloi will visit her in person."

"Do you think it's related to blackmail?"

"No." Waver was quick to conclude. "If it was, I imagine lady Archelot would long be dead. It can't be something negative. It has to be based on her merits."

"A personal relationship perhaps?" Fujimaru suggested, before he shook his head himself. "No, that doesn't make any sense either."

"At the risk of sounding callous, you'll have to find out tomorrow." Waver sighed, reaching out and patting to boy's shoulder once. "I shall help you hope that it is something relatively innocuous."

"Thanks." Fujimaru sighed in return.

"Oh, before I forget to ask, did you succeed in your secret endeavour in Germany?" Waver asked, realising he hadn't inquired about that yet. "If you want to tell me of course."

"I was successful, yes." Fujimaru nodded, some light returning to his expression. "Very much so."

"Will you be leaving the Clocktower again soon then?" Waver continued his questioning, not sure how he would feel about that. On one hand, the boy had caused no end of trouble. On the other, he had also been of great help on various matters, was genuinely kind to everyone, and Waver might even have become a little fond of him.

"I won't be leaving just yet." Fujimaru was quick to reply however. "That would be suspicious, so I'll be sticking around for a few more weeks."

Suspicious? Oh dear.

Waver wondered for a few moments whether he should inquire about that as well, before he decided that it wasn't worth it. No need to wake sleeping dogs when he could just as well return to teaching his classes again without giving a damn. Or he might visit his favourite tearoom again.

He was a simple man with simple needs, and kicking over a bee's hive was not one of those needs.

---

And cut!

At least, this chapter is finished. It was so annoying, so much work. Heavens, I'm still not sure it came out well. I mean, I completely skipped past Shirou explained things to Illya. Was that alright? I mean, no one was waiting for me to explain all that yet again, right? A shame we missed Illya's reactions, but come on, enough explanation is enough explanation.

Again not much action in this chapter, but there are some interesting interactions that have the potential of leading towards very interesting occurrences.

Merem and Gransurg have a conversation. TAKE NOTE! I have tried to be loyal to their canon-personalities, but when I saw it fit to change things because it works better in my story, I did so without hesitation.

Example: Merem and Gransurg actually being good friends, whose rivalry has gone down over the years from 'I'll kill you' to 'We'll let the boss decide who he likes better'.

Another Example: Merem blatantly planning to betray the Church when the Crimson Moon comes into play.

Yet Another Example: Ortenrosse (the King of the Dead Apostles) is actually a stone-cold badass in my fic. In canon, he's a loser who only has like three followers, but in Hammer Time, he's the bomb, the guy who everyone (even Altrouge) listens to. In canon, Arcueid speaks disparagingly about him (rightfully so), but here, she will have real respect for him.

We also have a scene with Rosaly, who is the friend of Marie Alva (you know her, the Dead Apostle girl) and Fiore Forvedge (you know her, she's from Apocrypha). Expect this trio to return often enough.

We also have a scene about the Executors burning down a Meluastea-nest, and if you can guess where I got Jonah, Mira, and Sidonus from, you can pat yourself on the back.

Then also a scene with Olga Marie, who is ten years old here, and Trisha Fellows, who has been introduced in the story. They will also play a role in several arcs to come.

And of course, lastly, Illya had been saved. Hurray! Sella and Leysritt have come along too. Hurray! Soon, the ritual to turn them into humans will be completed. Hurray!

Hope you all liked the chapter.

Ted flies into the air like a bird.