FATE/PARALLEL COLORS

Chapter 2: Grotesque Presences

The following morning, Jack and Nursery woke Connla up and asked if she wanted to help them bake some pumpkin pies. Although clearly listless, she decided to accept the invitation. She accompanied her friends to the kitchen, where Emiya Archer and Boudica had some pumpkins on newspapers waiting to be carved into. Jack was eager to do some 'dismembering', but Boudica kept a tight rein on her impulses if they wanted to keep the pumpkins intact. Emiya and Nursery took care of the baking, which left Connla to scoop out the innards and separate the seeds.

As the others chatted amongst themselves, the Lancer barely said a word as she concentrated on her task. As she quietly pinched seed after seed from the pulp onto a baking sheet, she could feel her mind drifting off again. Her hands continued working, but it was an automatic motion that required no attention on her part, like she had transformed into a robot on a manufacturing line. Nothing that occurred in the kitchen registered in her mind.

Was such a simple task so strenuous that she could no longer keep her eyelids open? She couldn't say for sure, but she nevertheless succumbed to her second bout of midday sleep, unable to resist the warm feeling of escaping from her unbearable depression even for just a little bit.

The black Ford V8 rolled along the outskirts of Arkham, Massachusetts. Its destination wasn't the town itself, but rather a run-down farming shack no different than what the car's driver saw when she traversed through that abandoned house. After glancing at her notes and comparing them to the occasional house she passed by each time, she finally found the mailbox by the side of the road with a number that matched the address she was given. She drove into a random spot of flattened grass and crushed pebbles that apparently functioned as a driveway, then got out of her car and approached the front door.

She raised her hand, intent on rapping her knuckles against the door. However, the knob suddenly clicked open, and the door creaked enough to let some sunlight inside. The woman lowered her hand and stood there primly as she made eye contact with the occupant.

"…"

She couldn't make him out at first. As her eyes adjusted to the surprising amount of darkness inside, she eventually saw that it was an old man, perhaps in his late seventies to early eighties, clearly shriveled and tired of being alive. His deeply sagging jowls suggested that he had never smiled in decades, and his eyelids were equally heavy with worries beyond her naïve comprehension. He didn't wear glasses, yet the lady noticed how glassy and distant his eyes appeared and wondered if he needed some sort of prescription eyewear.

Despite the old man's unfriendly appearance, the young woman remained professional and brought her hands together while asking, "Are you Mr. Ammi Pierce?"

"Hm…" he grunted in the affirmative. "You the surveyor I talked to on the phone?"

"Yes, sir. I recognize your voice."

"Right, right… Come in. Let's get you settled. It's must've been a long trip."

He allowed her inside, and she sat upon the nearest chair in the tiny dining room. He sat on a chair opposite the side she was at the table, then grumbled, "So you're here to see the reservoir?"

"Yes. I understand that it's located in a spot that the locals refer to as the 'blasted heath'."

He visibly shuddered, shivering like a trembling leaf even though it was a warm afternoon. In a low voice, he whispered, "That place… That place is evil incarnate…"

She frowned, unsure of what to say. From the information she gathered about the old town of Arkham, it was practically a haven for legends and folk tales of witchcraft and otherworldly sorcery – the type of stories that grandparents told their grandchildren to make them behave, which then passed down to future grandchildren in a supposedly infinite cycle. Arkham felt like a shadow of the Salem witch trials that occurred 300 years ago in this very state of Massachusetts. This time though, it wasn't so much people that were being put on trial for being witches, but rather the land itself was being persecuted for reasons that outsiders could not fathom. Perhaps not even those in the know understood what it was they were accusing the 'blasted heath' of.

The lady remained patient, knowing that she was probably as unwelcome as the 'blasted heath'. She lowered her head and murmured, "I heard about the loss of your close friend, Nahum Gardner."

"…"

"I apologize if my questions will be difficult for you to answer in your time of grieving. Feel free to dismiss them if you wish. However, I still have a job to do for the university, and they are expecting results from me."

"Hmph… 'Results' and 'facts' are the only things that city people give a damn about anymore."

She shifted her eyes away and distantly murmured, "Perhaps."

"Let me tell you right now, young lady. If you persist in this asinine study of yours, the only 'result' your superiors are going to get is you in a body bag."

She pressed her lips together into a thin line, then asked, "You think I will meet the same fate as Mr. Gardner and his family?"

Pierce glared away. People's faces were too hard for him to look at anymore. He didn't want to commit this innocent young woman's visage to memory, fearing it would become as twisted and distorted as Nahum Gardner's was in the frightful moments of his death. He then stood up and fetched something from the counter. From the woman's point of view, it looked like an ordinary bundle of carrots.

He unceremoniously plopped the vegetables in front of her on the table and implored, "Look at these. This is a crop I managed to recover from Gardner's plot before it all turned grey."

She picked one carrot up and examined it closely. No matter which angle she looked at it, it was just an average bright orange root vegetable. Noting how perplexed she was, Pierce then told her, "Snap it in half."

She did so. Immediately, she could tell that something was wrong. While the surface appeared normal, the inside was speckled with an indiscernible spectrum of bizarre colors that only became slightly greyed and muted from the passage of time. She kept her obvious surprise to herself, instead acting curious as she asked, "When did you pick these?"

"Exactly four weeks ago."

She raised her eyebrows, astonished that the vegetables lasted for so long without proper refrigeration. "Has anyone tried to eat similar crops like this?"

"Of course we have. Ever since that meteorite fell, the crops have grown huge, yet are thoroughly inedible."

"I can see that," the woman mumbled as she stared in mild revulsion at the multicolored carrot. If she tried to consume it, it would probably be no different than eating fresh paint. The multicolored blobs certainly reminded her of the tubes of paint she saw in artist studios and kindergarten classes. She suspected that the other carrots Pierce gave her were in the same state, so she bundled them back together and placed them in her bag before saying, "I know a botanist who would be interested in looking at these."

"Hmph. Suit yourself. Just tell him not to expect much. I'd give it another week or two before they finally rot anyway."

"So you're saying that the crops went bad shortly after this so-called meteorite fell, and that Mr. Gardner's farm was the closest one to that crash site."

"Yes…"

She stroked her chin, thinking back to the anecdotes she heard of various foreigners such as the French Canadians, the Italians, and the Polish attempting to settle in these abandoned lands, only to quickly pack up and leave without explanation. After seeing those twisted, almost unholy carrots plucked from the gardens of an alien planet, she then wondered, "Is it going to be safe for me to eat anything?"

"Don't be daft, girl," Pierce grunted. "I would never be so evil as to offer such abominations for my guest to dine upon. I've already stocked my cabinets with food and bottled water from the town. It's safe, I assure you. Besides, my farm was not affected by the meteorite. It was only Nahum's plot that was corrupted into the 'blasted heath'."

"Is it fine for me to draw water from the well?"

"Just to be safe, I would not."

"I see. Well, I'll only be staying for five days, and I'm not a heavy eater. Hopefully I won't be imposing too much on you in the meantime, Mr. Pierce."

"If you were, I wouldn't have invited you inside in the first place. I will be staying in the town with my wife and her family, so do as you please. Just leave the place as clean as possible once you leave."

"I understand."

"I will be selling this property and moving away with my family soon enough. I can hardly wait for the reservoir to be built, for these nightmares will soon be a distant memory, lost far, far beneath the water."

The young woman lowered her eyes and clasped her hands together atop the table. True, the town of Arkham was so old that it was deemed unrecoverable. Politicians with far more clout and power than she did decided that a water reservoir would be a beneficial step towards the state of Massachusetts' rapid development. The politicians paid off Arkham's residents to entice them to move away. She was simply a tiny cog in this machine, a mere student sent to survey the viability of Arkham's geology and determine how feasible it was to build a dam here. Yet a growing concern weighed on her shoulders, and she was unable to shake some sort of uneasiness encroaching her very soul.

The sight of those awful, multicolored carrots deeply disturbed her. What sort of unearthly force was responsible for this? What else was she going to discover in her studies over the following days? What exactly was this 'blasted heath' whispered so fearfully among Arkham's superstitious residents? Was it something that could be erased from memory so easily with the construction of this reservoir?

Despite these questions, one particular question terrified her:

Was it possible for this grotesque presence to affect the future water supply, like what it did to the carrots?

Connla's eyes weakly fluttered open.

The first thing she realized was that she was standing. That alone was bizarre enough, but where she was standing startled her even more. For some reason, she was inside a dark and dank cavern that had probably never experienced a single ray of sunlight for untold eons. Tiny droplets of water splattered on the stone ground, radiating a random assortment of soothing plop, plop, plop sounds everywhere.

Another thing she noticed was her hands something something flat. She gazed down and saw a cooled pumpkin pie atop a kitchen towel. The sight baffled her at first, but after taking a moment to think, she remembered what she was doing before blacking out.

Oh yeah… I was making pumpkin pies with Jack, Nursery and the others…

What was she doing here? Why wasn't she in the kitchen with everyone else? Aside from those questions, the biggest one plaguing her mind was, where was she? Did she Rayshift somewhere without realizing it? That didn't make sense, especially since the pie would not have survived the trip. For that reason alone, she had to still be in Chaldea. Maybe it was the simulator? Was she intruding on someone's private time? If she was, no one was around to wake her up.

"Mrrrgh…"

A throaty, guttural growl purred somewhere in the darkness. Connla's eyes shifted everywhere until her gaze fell upon a pair of bright yellow eyes staring back at her. Fear seized her entire body as she dumbly looked at the cavern's other occupant. Although it was too dark to see it clearly, she could tell that this creature was a gigantic wolf with patches of indigo and white fur. There looked to be a humanoid figure standing next to the massive beast, who wore black clothes from neck to toe. One would normally say 'head to toe', except that this person didn't have a head whatsoever. He looked somewhat noble, with a scarlet cravat wrapping around the neck portion and a majestic black cape falling over his shoulders, yet he was a warrior trained for the sole purpose of killing.

Connla shuddered, fearful of even allowing a tiny yelp to escape her throat.

A headless man and a giant wolf…

Her mind drifted back to a brief moment several weeks ago, before the Akakor incident occurred. She was hanging out with Jack and Nursery Rhyme one day, and they passed by the summoning chamber where Ritsuka could expend catalysts she discovered to summon new Servants. The trio saw the doors slide open, and their Master exited with not one, but two Servants in tow; the gigantic wolf, and the headless man riding astride. Yet somehow, it was the wolf that was the dominant presence, while the man simply blended in with the background. Usually it was the reverse with Rider-class Servants; the Servant was the dominant one, and the mount accentuated their class.

"Whoa," Jack whispered. "That is one huge doggy…"

Connla gulped, then asked in her quietest voice, "Could that be Culann's hound?"

"Culann's hound? Isn't that just Cuchulainn?"

"No, I'm talking about the actual guard dog that Father slew when he was a boy."

"Oh…"

Nursery narrowed her eyes, then said, "I don't think so. That looks like Lobo, the King of Currumpaw."

"How can you tell?" Connla wondered.

"See those animal traps on his legs?"

The Lancer looked down at the giant wolf's legs and noticed that each one had a spiked bear trap clenched tightly around each one, with chains dragging along the ground each time the animal took a step. While Connla was looking down, Jack gazed up at the headless man riding Lobo and asked, "Who's the guy missing his head then?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Nursery grinned. "It's the Headless Horseman."

"Mmgh… I've heard of it, but I don't know anything about it."

"It's from Washington Irving's tale, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It's a popular story during Halloween because it tells of a German mercenary known as a Hessian who was decapitated by a cannonball in some nameless battle during the American Revolutionary War."

"Halloween, huh? Now that I think about it, that's coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Yep! I've been brainstorming some good ideas for it."

Connla absently murmured, clearly not interested in discussing about annual festivals. She was more concerned about the animal traps that Lobo was forced to haul around on his legs. Distant memories flooded back in her mind, of the times when she was undertaking endurance training under Aife's instruction. One such incident involved her doing household chores while withstanding the pain in her ankles from a pair of similar traps that Aife made her wear for a full day and night. The memory depressed her, and a tinge of pity welled within her as she wondered if there was anything she could do for the giant wolf.

Despite her concerns, she shook her head and thought, I'm sure Master can do something about it. If I tried to meddle, I might wind up being killed.

She was familiar with the King of Currumpaw and his combined ferocity, tenacity, and mockery of the hunters who tried to slay him. If anyone dared to approach him in the wrong way, they would be slain without question. Lobo was a beast who killed out of rage, not hunger. She doubted that even fellow Servants under the same Master were exempt from his fury. The way that Hessian also conducted himself as a mere background figure was similarly telling. To Connla, it looked as though Lobo gave permission for Hessian to ride him, rather than that Hessian tamed Lobo like one would usually expect. Was Hessian somehow different from the humans that tried to kill Lobo? Did he just look human, but was actually a monster lurking beneath his stylish black coat? She couldn't tell from just a glance. She hadn't seen them again ever since that day, so she couldn't make any concrete judgments based on that.

Now though, about a month after Hessian and Lobo were summoned to Chaldea as a single Avenger-class Servant, Connla stood before them holding a pumpkin pie like it was some kind of bizarre offering to a god. Within two seconds, confusion gave way to fear, which exploded into panic.

"Ah… L-L-L-Lord Lobo!" the Lancer screeched.

Her entire body seized up, and she thoughtlessly dropped the pie while backing away and crying out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! I… I… I don't know… what I'm doing here. I must've wandered off, and…"

Neither Lobo nor Hessian responded to her dumbstruck utterances. Their lack of reaction frightened her, and she scurried for the opposite side of the cavern in a desperate attempt to find the exit. All the while, she screamed, "I'm so sorry! I'll leave right away!"

She slammed against the dark wall and fearfully felt her way around to look for the button that would open the door. Her panic escalated as she couldn't find it however. Her breathing became frantic and out of control, which only got worse the longer she remained here. A minute later, she heard heavy footsteps approach from behind. She noticed Hessian's hand reach for a higher segment of the wall she hadn't touched, immediately followed by the doors whirring open directly in front of her. An unnaturally bright white light overwhelmed her senses, which thankfully calmed her nerves and allowed her to breathe normally again.

"Uh… um… t-thank you," Connla mumbled to Hessian. "I'm sorry for bothering you and Lord Lobo…"

He rested his hand on her shoulder to indicate that all was well, then gently ushered her outside before shutting the door between them.

While Hessian was busy with Connla, Lobo turned his eyes toward the ruined pumpkin pie and carefully sniffed it. Of course he was going to be suspicious of any edible things handled by a human. His lifetime rival, Ernest Thompson Seton, attempted to hunt Lobo down by leaving poisoned bait, but the wolf was too cunning and managed to discard the poisons while eating the rest. He suspected that Connla was attempting the same thing, although the whole thing seemed just too strange to him. Why would she try to kill him? Despite his mind being dominated by hatred and disgust for humans, Lobo understood that Ritsuka had many other Servants besides him, and this peculiar little girl had to be one of them. For some reason, her large brown eyes reminded him of the puppies in his pack – young, harmless, and innocent, only in her training years to become a fierce hunter.

As Lobo sniffed the pie, he realized that there was no stench of poison present. Although he wasn't familiar with pumpkins, he recognized the scent of a gourd vegetable that the farmers of Currumpaw Valley grew on their farms. He decided to consume this strange dessert, figuring it would be a waste of good food if he just left it.

"… Hmm?"

While the smell was familiar, the taste was not. These sweet yet earthy flavors were brand new experiences for Lobo. Even the crust was delicious. Not a single crumb remained once he finished. It was hardly a meal meant to sate his hunger, but it was nonetheless quaint and memorable.

Back outside, the exhausted Connla just stood there, unsure of what to do next. Should she tell someone? If she did, would they think she was weird, or even insane for disturbing Lobo? Maybe it would be better for her to keep quiet about this incident. It wasn't like Lobo or Hessian could say anything about it, and no one got hurt anyway.

She soon heard two pairs of rapid footsteps heading her way, and she looked over to see a worried Jack and Nursery reuniting with her. The Assassin got in front of the Lancer and yelped, "There you are! What are you doing here!?"

"Um…"

"Geez, what are you doing!? You were supposed to make your delivery to Ms. Martha! She's been waiting so patiently for her pie!"

"I, um…"

Nursery looked at the door, then blurted, "Hey, isn't this Lobo's room?"

"…"

"Did you go inside?"

"… Somehow."

"Whaa~aat!? What were you thinking!? Don't you know how dangerous Lobo is!? If you make him mad, he'll crunch your head off!"

"…"

Another two pairs of footsteps approached, and two women rounded the corner after hearing Nursery's outburst. One was Medb, the pink-haired Queen of Connacht. The other was a violet-haired lady wearing white ribbons in her hair, a white robe with a white cape beneath a red capelet, and blue thigh-length leggings beneath short metallic greaves. The second woman asked, "What's the matter, girls? Aren't you going to deliver my pie for me?"

"Oh, Ms. Martha!" Jack exclaimed. "Queen Medb's with you?"

"Of course," Medb replied. "Usually I don't associate myself with women, but once I heard Martha tell me that Connie was going to bring a freshly-baked pie to her, I just couldn't resist having some of my darling little brave's homemade cooking for myself."

Martha shook her head in consternation and muttered, "Honestly. You should just give up pursuing Cuchulainn while you can. It's obvious that he has no interest in you. Especially that thorny Alter version of him – I've heard that he outright loathes women."

"Eh he he he. Don't you understand? It's not just the catch that excites me. There's also the thrill of the chase. The colder they turn a shoulder to me, the more I want them to warm up to my boundless love and passion."

"So you're saying that Cuchulainn's offspring is just a tool in that pursuit?"

"Of course not! Connie's a good girl who's protected me many times in the simulator! She's the one who gathered all of those materials to make my Spirit Origin as powerful as possible! Cu only likes strong women, so Connie has been a huge help towards that goal! In return, I give her all the hugs and kisses and snuggles that she had been denied her whole life! It's a win-win relationship, don't you think?"

"Well, I guess so…"

"But more importantly, where is this oh-so delicious pie that I can't wait to sink my teeth into? Come on, hand it over already, girls!"

"Well, the thing is," Nursery hesitantly murmured, "Connla gave it to Lobo by mistake."

"Ehhhh!?" Medb cried out in total exasperation. "Of all the Servants here, she had to give it to Lobo!?"

"My goodness! Is she okay!?" Martha shouted.

"I think so, but…"

Medb immediately kneeled before Connla. The child Lancer turned her eyes away from the concerned queen, gazing down the hallway at nothing in particular. Medb rested her hands on the girl's shoulders and remarked, "Oh my! Look at how pale you are! Are you all right, sweetie?"

"…"

Martha pressed her hand on Connla's forehead to feel her temperature, then said, "She doesn't seem to have a fever. She looks really exhausted though."

"Hmm… All right, forget about the pie. When in doubt, a nice warm bath will solve all of life's problems!"

"Didn't you just come out of your shower?"

"A woman can never have too many baths! Come on, Connie, let's go to the hot spring and we can talk while observing the snowy peaks of the Antarctic."

Martha looked apprehensive, then said, "I better come with you. Knowing how cunning you are, I fear you might do something drastic while Connla's so vulnerable."

"Hmph. Suit yourself. You could do with a good wash after hanging around with that turtle with the terrible halitosis."

"He's a dragon, his breath does not stink, and his name is Tarrasque."

"Right, whatever."

"Ooh, a bath! Can Nursery and I come with you?" Jack asked eagerly.

"Sure," Martha smiled. "This is turning into quite the all-girls party, wouldn't you say?"

"Yaaay! Bath time, bath time, bath time!"

While all of this was going on, Connla remained disturbingly silent. She just let Medb take her hand and guide her to the hot spring, feeling wholly disconnected from everything and everyone around her. The next thing she knew, she was leaning her head and torso against a boulder in the dimly-lit manmade hot spring, vapidly staring at the snow billowing in the frigid howling winds outside. Only the thick windows prevented this deathly cold from permeating into the baths, making for a pleasant viewing experience.

"Hey! No horsing around, you two!" Martha shouted at Jack and Nursery as the children splashed at each other. A stray blast of water courtesy of Jack accidentally dumped itself over Connla's head, wetting her hair.

"Ah! Sorry about that!" the Assassin yelped and quickly grabbed a towel to wipe her friend's hair dry.

Martha rubbed her forehead and grumbled, "What did I tell you? If you want to play, save it for the swimming pool."

"My bad…"

"Oh, let them have their fun," Medb said. "It's kind of charming to watch children enjoy themselves. It reminds me of those days when I played with my young sons while I was pregnant with Findabair."

"You had eight children, didn't you?" Martha asked.

"Yes, I did – seven boys and a girl. Findabair was my youngest daughter."

"That's amazing. It must've been tough to keep so many boys in line. Believe me, I know what it's like, being the oldest of three siblings."

"I'm glad you understand how incredible I am, Holy Maiden of Bethany. I won't mind if you keep the praise coming."

"Uh, I wasn't exactly complimenting you, per se…"

As the two women conversed, Jack and Nursery finished drying Connla's hair off. The former said, "Sorry for getting you wet."

"Mm," the Lancer mumbled with absolutely no enthusiasm.

"Are you tired? Should we get out now?" Nursery wondered.

"No, I'm okay…"

After a moment of silence, Connla then said, "Can I ask you guys something?"

"Of course you can. What is it?"

"Have I… um… Well, the thing is… Have I been acting 'strange' lately?"

The other girls glanced at each other curiously. Jack replied, "Strange? You mean other than you being sad all the time?"

"Yeah."

"Not really."

"So I was in the kitchen helping to make pies?"

"That's right. You didn't say much when we tried to talk to you, but we just thought you were tired."

Connla visibly paled, then turned away and sunk into the water up to her mouth as she mumbled, "I see…"

Nursery grew worried as she asked, "Are you sure you're okay? We tried to send you to deliver that pie to Ms. Martha, but you wound up in Lobo's room for whatever reason. Did you get lost on the way?"

"No. I know where her room is."

"Then what were you doing in there? Don't you know that Lobo could have killed you if you made him mad?"

"I… don't know…"

Martha and Medb heard their conversation and realized that something was wrong. The Celtic queen swam up to Connla and rested her hand on the child's back while saying, "I don't know what's going on, but maybe it'll be safer for you to stay with me for a while."

"I'm rather worried as well," Martha said. "At the very least, if Lobo tries to attack Connla, I can calm him down with Tarrasque's help."

Connla shook her head and assured, "I don't think that's going to happen. Sir Hessian helped me get back outside. Although he can't talk, I could tell that everything was okay."

"Hmm… Maybe I'll ask Hessian and be absolutely sure that Lobo isn't upset with you."

"That sounds like a plan," Medb said. She faced Nursery and Jack, then told them, "Don't worry about Connie. I'll look after her and see if she acts weird around me. If she does, I'll tell Cu right away."

"Should we tell him about Connla wandering into Lobo's room?" Nursery asked.

"Probably not. He might get upset and attack Lobo before we figure out what's going on here."

"Okay, we'll keep it a secret from Mr. Cu," Jack assured.

"I'll look after the girls for now," Martha offered.

"All right, Connie, let's get you dried off," Medb said as she helped Connla out of the hot spring and got her dressed. Ten minutes later, they exited the changing room and headed for the queen's personal chamber. During their walk, a familiar blonde-haired man stood in the hallway, casually leaning his back against the wall while boldly folding his arms as a constant gesture of his superiority.

His eyes met Medb's, and she blurted angrily, "What do you want, Goldie? Can't you see I'm a little busy here?"

"Quiet that sharp tongue of yours, Celtic harlot. I'm not here to exchange insults with you," Gilgamesh retorted. "I need to have a word with the runt there."

"If you're going to order her to clean your throne, then save it for another time. It's obvious that she's in no condition to heed anyone's commands. Why, it is the summit of foolishness to believe that she can do a good job while in such a sorry state. Why don't you pull some manservant out of that Gate of Babylon of yours instead?"

"It is equally as boorish to lump your ill-advised assumptions on me, woman."

"Assumptions?"

Gilgamesh became stern as he made eye contact with the morose Connla. Then out of nowhere, she murmured to him, "… It happened again."

He narrowed his eyes, and his expression turned slightly severe. "As I thought."

"Huh? What happened again?" Medb wondered. Her irritation with Gilgamesh quickly changed to confusion over what they were talking about.

"Would you be quiet for a moment, mongrel? This is something of utmost importance I must discuss with the runt," he told her in a stern tone.

Her bitterness returned in a brief flash of frustration, but she decided to stand back and let them talk for Connla's sake. The child Lancer asked the Sumerian king, "How did you know?"

"It's hard to explain it in human language. For about an hour, the atmosphere didn't feel normal. I observed the other mongrels go about their business as usual, and no one appeared to pick up on this sensation. It must have been too faint for even the most talented of Casters to detect."

"An hour… That's about as long as I was asleep."

"Did you return to the same role as before?"

"I did."

"So you witnessed a continuation of that same fictional story playing in your imagination?"

"I guess so. But the odd thing is that Jack and Nursery told them I helped them make pies while I was in this other role."

She explained everything as best as she could to him. His grave countenance became more apparent as he wondered, "So you're in some sort of sleepwalking state, hm? It is exactly as I suspected."

Connla raised her eyebrows. "What did you suspect?"

"That your body is moving on its own while you sleep. I analyzed those math problems you wrote during your previous dream, and believed that was the case. I couldn't really prove anything with just that, but if your claims are true, then it's evidence enough of sleepwalking that is so convincing that it deceives those around you."

She somberly closed her eyes, pondering the possibility. "Sleepwalking… This is definitely a first for me."

"Not only that, but you woke up while inside the King of Currumpaw's chambers. Indeed, if you had behaved improperly around that wild beast, he would have reduced you into pieces of meat that he could feast upon. The fact that you are still alive is so fortunate that it cannot be described with the spoken word."

"…"

Medb listened to everything they were saying and grew increasingly worried. With a sorrowful expression, she asked, "What's going on here? Is there anything we can do to help her?"

Gilgamesh replied, "I do not know the source of this unnatural atmosphere. However, it only appears to concentrate itself around the runt, and does so with such stealth that both she and other Servants are wholly ignorant of its existence. Of course, I will not be fooled by such antics. Try as it might, it cannot obscure its evil from my all-encompassing sight."

"That may be swell for you, but what about the rest of us!? How are we supposed to tell that Connie's in this weird state!?"

"Naught more than to keep a stringent eye on the runt's activities, and to not let her wander off on her own. If my assumptions are correct, then the more this entity's efforts to control her are thwarted, the more brazen it shall become in its attempts, which will then lower its guard. Consequently, other Servants will be able to detect its presence and potentially force it out into the open."

"Unbelievable! I can't believe the nerve of you, King of Heroes!"

"What is the problem? Isn't my plan to draw this coward out of hiding a flawless one?"

"Do you think I'm just going to stand here and let this 'thing' subject Connie to more torture after what happened with Akakor!? I know we don't have a way to fight it for now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to allow her to suffer any more than she should!"

Rather than be offended, Gilgamesh instead smiled. "How unusual. Usually you relish in making your enemies suffer the cruelest and most unusual punishments imaginable."

"My enemies, yes. My darling little children, who shall grow up to be my greatest braves, are a different story altogether!"

"Even if you did not birth one of those children? That she's just a means of you acquiring the Mad Mongrel's affection?"

"Don't be absurd! Cu's baby is my baby as well, especially since Connie's mother so thoroughly disowned her in the worst way possible! My god, not even I have that dark of an imagination! Was that monstrosity even a human being to begin with!?"

Gilgamesh's grin vanished. He remembered reading the reports of when Medb accompanied Connla to the minute Singularity in Scotland. He wasn't present when they fought Aife, but whatever had occurred then had to have affected Medb in such a way that he never anticipated. Learning of the possibility of a new threat to Connla's life must have greatly angered the queen, which was convenient for him. To him, it was simply one less chore for him to deal with.

"Then observe the runt with that fervor, Queen of Connacht," Gilgamesh finally told her. "If you intend to be a mother figure for her, then do not relent with those maternal instincts of yours. Now that you understand that something is amiss, you would do well to play your part in this unfolding mystery. Who knows? Perhaps you may enjoy the satisfaction of trampling this interloper beneath your heel."

Upon hearing that suggestion, Medb smiled wickedly and replied, "Of course I will. No one hurts my second daughter and escapes unscathed."