FATE/PARALLEL COLORS
Chapter 6: Sunflowers in the Snow
A familiar, sharp-tongued man's voice cut through the otherworldly noise. The excruciating throbbing in the surveyor's head instantly stopped, and she was back to normal just like that. The woman scrambled to her feet and whirled around to discover Edmond standing tall and confident before her.
"M-Mr. Edmond?" she moaned. "What are you doing here? I thought you were resting at Mr. Pierce's place."
"What am I doing here?" the gentleman repeated in an obviously derisive tone. "What else? Putting an end to this ridiculous farce."
"Farce? What are you talking about?"
"Miss Surveyor… No, that's not what I should be calling you. That's a role devised to help insert you into this completely fictional storyline that's playing out in your imagination as we speak. I won't fall for such a simple trap."
"A… trap?"
He ignored her question and continued, "I'll get straight to the point - you are not some commonplace surveyor from Boston. Your True Name is Connla, the only child of the Hound of Ulster Cuchulainn, and a Lancer-class Servant under Chaldea's employ."
"Cuchulainn? Chaldea? What nonsense is this!? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"
"Good grief. The deception has encroached deeper into your Spirit Origin than I expected. But it hasn't taken complete control of you. There's still time for the connection to be severed."
The woman was becoming increasingly frustrated with Edmond's vague statements. Her brows furrowed with annoyance as she blurted, "I've had enough of your prophetic ramblings, Mr. Edmond! Start making sense, or else I'll have to ask you to leave!"
Upon hearing her threat, his lip curled into a mirthful sneer.
"Fuh… Fuh heh heh heh…"
Moments later, he bellowed a most emphatic yet sinister laugh she had ever heard.
"Fuah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
The woman didn't know why, but she was suddenly on guard as she felt every goosebump on her skin prickle to life. Her hands seemed to instinctively reach for something long… A weapon of some kind? She wanted to grasp her fingers around a polearm so badly, like scratching an itch that she couldn't reach. Before she could understand what she was even doing, she saw Edmond's outfit shift and undulate like ripples in a pool of tar. His elegant count's outfit melted into a living darkness that crawled on his skin, transforming into a stylish trench coat and a fedora that covered his eyes. His irises also changed color from bright red to chilling golden orbs.
"No more games. It is time to unravel this fictitious dream and bring you back home," Edmond declared, clenching his teeth and glaring intensely at her.
"A dream? You're saying this is just a figment of my imagination?"
"Exactly! But this isn't a standard dream that your subconsciousness weaves out of random bits of information into a nonsensical performance. This is a setup… A stage, if you would, crafted for you by another. You have become pulled into a story, and exist as a character due to your Spirit Origin being tampered with. Your mind has been rewritten so that you live out your life as this fictional character that they desire, leaving your body completely exposed for them to take control of."
"…"
"But they can't overwrite everything – your identity, your will, your determination, your love… nor of your instincts as a warrior of Celtic mythology. Don't you feel it stirring in your soul? Don't you want to reach for a spear and take my challenge head-on?"
"I… I do…"
"That is your humanity, trying to overcome the foreign entity's brainwashing. But your Spirit Origin has been dealt a severe mental shock, and is thus too weak to fend for itself. That is why I have been summoned – without my help, you will never escape this personal Chateau d'If that you have been locked within."
"Chateau d'If…" The woman whispered. She couldn't recall it clearly, but she had shutting herself inside a library and reading a lot of books. One such novel stuck out to her; the story of a man named Edmond, falsely accused of crimes he didn't commit and being imprisoned in the hellish Chateau d'If. The realization suddenly struck her like a brick wall falling upon her:
"It can't be… You're the Count of Monte Cristo, aren't you!?"
"Heh heh heh! You've finally figured it out?" Edmond bellowed. "Good! Remembering those around you is an important step in destroying this illusion!"
He then stomped his foot on the greyed grass. Bright blue flames burned the immediate area around him, quickly spreading further and further as it incinerated their very surroundings like mere paper until they stood within a purely black void. The flames rushed past the woman, engulfing her in a potent fire that reduced her form to ashes. The embers scattered about, revealing who had actually been standing there the entire time: Connla.
"So this is the Child of Cuchulainn's true face," the Avenger murmured, appearing almost forlorn. "How painful that one as young as you has to cry for a savior. It's even more pathetic that a Servant such as myself was the one to answer the call. I may be no Abbe Faria, but even I know when to extend a hand to someone who understands the same despair I experienced."
"Cry for a savior?" she wondered. "I don't remember doing anything like that."
"If you do not recall, then your soul will. My presence alone is proof enough that you need help, and that the forces of justice and righteousness are not sufficient to provide you with salvation. You are falling into darkness – that much is certain. Only those who have already been swallowed by the darkness will be able to help you return to the light, where you rightfully belong."
Connla frowned, unsure of what Edmond was talking about. She had no idea she was being cast into such unknown role in the first place. How was she going to escape from here? More importantly than that though… even if she managed to get out of here, what made her think it wouldn't happen again? What could Edmond possibly do for her like this?
"Your eyes betray many questions," he said. He purposefully took several steps around her in a wide circle. "Why is this happening to me? How does this strange man know everything? Why am I being targeted by an Outer God? What do they want with me? Are my friends in danger? How do I prevent this from happening again? So many questions to ask, and even more answers to feebly grasp for. But now is not the time for that. You must focus on the most important task before you."
"The most important task?"
"To hold on to hope. To wait for a brighter tomorrow. To discover the answers you're looking for. To laugh at the Outer God as you thwart their plans time and time again. You cannot do any of this if you do not survive. Yes… your duty is to live. Do not worry about the particulars. Just make it through these dark days, and everything will align themselves for you. If you die, then all hope for resolving your affairs with the Outer God goes with you. We do not want that now, do we?"
Connla understood his point, but nonetheless sulked in dismay as she moaned, "What am I supposed to do?"
"Well… There is one thing that can be resolved right now."
She felt an unusual rush of wind rustle her clothes. She instinctively whirled her head back and gasped when she saw the manic Edmond barreling for her just inches away. Her spear appeared in her hands, and she barely blocked his incoming punch. He gripped the polearm and glared fiercely into her eyes as he made his declaration:
"To sever the Outer God's hold on you!"
In Chaldea's infirmary, Cuchulainn Lancer, Cuchulainn Alter, and Medb all stood next to the bed that Connla had been sleeping in. Alter was particularly horrified to discover the bed empty. Without thinking, he suddenly grabbed Lancer's bodysuit and screamed in his face, "How the hell did you let this happen!?"
"Believe me, man, I was keeping a strict eye on her!" Lancer objected. "I only turned away for a second to check on something! When I looked back, she was gone!"
"Do you seriously expect me to believe that bullshit!?"
"Cu, please stop!" Medb implored, trying to tear the two Cuchulainns apart and failing miserably. "This isn't the time to be arguing with each other! We have to find Connie and make sure she's okay!"
"AAAA~AAAA~AAAAGH!" Alter howled, but reluctantly released Lancer.
The spearman quickly dusted himself off, then assured, "Hessian and Lobo are probably out looking for her. Let's ask Roman and Da Vinci if they've seen her."
The three Celts quickly left the medical ward and ran straight for Da Vinci's workshop, where they found the inventor working on a new project. They explained what happened, which alarmed her. Unfortunately, she had no idea where Connla was either, but accompanied them to the main control room where Roman was. Da Vinci also called for Ritsuka and Mash on the intercom to meet with them there, and both Master and Demi-Servant arrived just as everyone assembled around the main monitor. All of the technicians were busy poring through the security footage to see if anything unusual happened.
"Doctor!" a blonde female staff member called out. "I have footage of the infirmary when Cu Lancer and Lobo were watching Connla! You're not going to believe this!"
She transmitted the video to Roman's computer, and everyone watched what happened. Lancer, Lobo and Hessian were indeed looking after the comatose girl during the earlier meeting. However, there was a moment when Lancer walked away, and both Lobo and Hessian had fallen asleep at the same time. When no one was looking, Connla's body shimmered until it became translucent, then completely disappeared, suddenly flopping the blankets that had covered her flat. The Runes that Lancer had been using to bind Connla's limbs no long had anything to restrain, so they fizzled out. A few seconds later, Lancer returned clearly looking distressed, which in turn woke Lobo and Hessian up, and they rushed out of the infirmary.
"See!? What did I tell you!?" Cuchulainn Lancer yelled at Cuchulainn Alter.
"Tch!"
"Damn it," Da Vinci cursed. "She was teleported somewhere again. Whatever is controlling her hasn't given up yet."
"We're really underestimating this enemy's tenacity," Ritsuka scowled, furious that someone was trying to harm her youngest Servant like this.
Mash wondered, "Is she somewhere in the facility?"
"I've already sent an alert out for everyone to look for her," Roman assured. "I haven't heard back from anyone so far. I've also made doubly sure to bolster security with the Spiritron Coffins so she doesn't attempt any sort of unauthorized Rayshift."
"So she's not getting out of Chaldea. With human history no longer existing in the rest of the world, she has nowhere else to go either."
Everyone examined every possible camera feed they could to see if they could detect her. Several Servants were running around the facility trying to locate her, and growing more bewildered that they couldn't find her. It was as if she completely vanished, leaving no trace of her existence behind. Despite this, Da Vinci could still pick up traces of Connla's Spirit Origin somewhere in the vicinity.
Eventually, their attention turned to more obscure locations that she could have turned up in. That was when a small yelp escaped Roman's throat, and he uttered, "Oh god…"
"Did you find her!?" Alter demanded.
"Y-Yeah…"
"Well where the hell is she!?"
"She's… she's… outside…"
"What do you mean? Did she Rayshift somewhere?"
"No… I mean exactly that," Roman choked as he and the other technicians stared at the security monitors in horror. He pointed to a certain video feed way in the upper right corner of the huge monitor, and yelped, "She's standing… outside the facility…"
"As in, standing in the Antarctic!?" Mash squealed, clearly mortified by this revelation.
Indeed, Connla was finally found… taking small, almost manipulated steps through the snow as a terrible blizzard swirled all around her. Her head and arms appeared limp, but her legs kept moving forward one labored step at a time. They had a bad feeling that she was still fast asleep.
"This is crazy! All of the emergency exits leading outside would sound an alarm! But nothing like that ever happened!" Da Vinci added.
Alter's mind went blank. No discernible thoughts came to him, as if his body was being controlled only by raw impulse. He ran straight out of the main room and made a mad dash for the hangar where he knew the emergency exit was. He didn't care how or why Connla escaped – the only thing that mattered was getting her back to safety.
Connla struggled to fight against Edmond's brute strength. She didn't understand why he was being so aggressive all of a sudden. She couldn't even begin asking him before he instantly vanished as a vivid azure streak of light. He twisted, whirled, and undulated everywhere to confuse her before ramming his arm against her shoulder, knocking her off her feet and flying several feet away. She tumbled along the invisible black ground, then regained her bearings and fled in a panic. She was just so confused that she needed to make some distance and figure out a strategy. Despite running at top speed, she glanced back and discovered the black-garbed man chasing her at about the same velocity, if not faster.
Connla couldn't believe it. Her heart raced with terror as she struggled to figure out what to do next. Sure, she could potentially stay on par with him thanks to a combination of her natural wind-elemental affinity, geasa, Runes, and Protection From Arrow skills. That was when her mind was clear, though. With her psyche damaged like this, she was simply too befuddled to keep track of where the Avenger was going. She didn't understand why he was so impossibly fast when he didn't have the same training she did. She had no way of knowing that Edmond Dantes' infamous willpower and determination manifested as a skill which allowed his body to keep up with his very thinking speed. Considering how quickly humans blitzed from one thought to the next without pause, this gave Edmond a terrifying advantage in terms of reaction times and pursuit speed.
"HRAGH!" he let out a shrill battle cry and leapt high over his quarry. He cupped his hands, then thrust them back and forth repeatedly. Multiple beams of onyx energy blasted from his palms and rained down upon Connla. She managed to breach through the storm, but her terror was overcoming her senses at such a rapid pace that she had no time to think.
It was that familiar dread she felt whenever she fought an opponent who was clearly more powerful than her. In response to such a threat, she always just shut her mind down and let the fight carry her through no matter what. Even if she was killed, at least she wouldn't be alert enough to understand that she was dead. It was the smallest comfort she could find when she was forced to fight someone much stronger than her. Perhaps this was due to training under Aife's brutal tutelage, but there was also the effect of the geas to 'never back down from a challenge' – that it gave her the courage needed to face any opponent. Of course, her definition of 'courage' wasn't exactly the same as most people interpreted it. Rather than steel her will like Edmond did, Connla simply turned off all coherent thoughts and functioned like a soulless combat machine.
The Lancer conjured dozens of platform Runes and ricocheted off them like a bright green bullet until she reached the Avenger's height. Viridian winds and azure flames exploded each time they struck each other. Edmond growled each time he staved off Connla's attacks with his energized punches. Although he harbored immense power thanks to the treasure he amassed as the Count of Monte Cristo, he didn't possess the inhuman level of combat training that she endured. That was why he was so shocked when he saw how freakishly tranquil she looked as she fought him with the ferocity of a hungry animal and the precision of a surgical needle.
"You fool! Don't you understand!?" he shouted at her. His golden eyes mysteriously turned vibrant red as his frustration escalated into pure rage. "The more you shut your mind down, the easier it is for the Outer God to take hold of your spirit!"
If she heard him, she made no attempt to retort. In response to her silence, he split into multiple copies of himself and surrounded her like flaming blue stars in the black sky. His body even defied the laws of space and time to duplicate itself in response to his thinking speed, as he intended to assail her from all sides. She perceived each and every copy as a new opponent, and analyzed how each one was acting so she could counter them. One tried to get close to capture her, but she sliced her spear down from his head to his lower torso, cleanly bifurcating him. Another snuck up on her from behind, but she spun like a top and cleaved her blade through his neck. She conjured a series of Ansuz Runes so quickly that the fiery fusillade exploded against a row of copies before they could fire more black energy beams at her.
Within the crowd of duplicates, the real Edmond mixed himself into the fray to stay close to Connla. No matter how hard he tried to snap her out of her delirium, all of his shouting and fighting never got through to her. She really had gone insane from desperation, confusion, and hopelessness. If he wanted to cut the link between her and the Outer God, he needed to be extreme about it.
Apparently, he also needed to be quick about it too! The wind began to pick up around Connla, and she murmured, "Concealed identities. Blinking vignettes. Unsolved mysteries…"
"Oh, no you don't!" Edmond snarled. She was going to use her Noble Phantasm to destroy him and his clones with a terrifying wind storm. He retaliated by rushing at her, then disappearing as a blue streak and spinning around her so fast that she couldn't keep her eyes trained on him. The duplicates immediately teleported so they formed a dome around her, and they all trained their energized fists at her.
"I've gone beyond love and hatred!" he shouted, frantically teleporting through the stunned Connla like a cleaver, damaging her with his flames each time. Each attack became quicker and quicker until he moved at imperceptible speeds. At the same time, his clones gathered blue energy into their palms, ready to fire when the primary Edmond was out of the way. Once he was finished battering his opponent, he ducked out of the way and cried out the name of his own Noble Phantasm:
"Enfer Chateau D'If!"
Connla couldn't do anything as dozens of azure streaks converged upon her. She didn't really feel much pain… Or maybe it was so excruciating that her entire being went numb. Through the searing heat and deafening roar of concentrated flames, she heard Edmond roar one last thing to her:
"WAKE UUU~UUUP!"
"Ah!?"
Connla's eyes shot open.
The strange man's voice lingered in her mind as an echo well after she woke up, as if his presence was still with her. Despite how uncomfortable she felt, she immediately realized that she wasn't in her bed at the infirmary. For whatever reason, she was standing in the middle of the Antarctic snowfield wearing nothing but her nightgown. She thought that she was a little chilly during her fight with Edmond and dismissed it out of turn, but now she understood why. She was so cold that she couldn't even talk.
What am I doing here?
She didn't know what to do. She looked around her perimeter, then discovered Chaldea's snow-capped facility several hundred meters behind her. Since she already spent so much time outside without realizing it, her mind was growing more and more hazy by the second. She probably didn't have the strength to make it back on her own. She was probably going to drop dead of hypothermia at any moment.
Connla didn't have any proof, but she was sure that the Outer God was taking possession of her body and deliberately leading her into dangerous situations. The incidents with Lobo, the simulator, and now this were clearly pointing to multiple murder attempts. All the while, her psyche had been repurposed to live within a completely fictional story, leaving her ignorant of what was going on in the waking world. She realized that Edmond must have been summoned to stop the Outer God from going too far. Alas, it was probably too late for her. All she could do was wait for her body to give out and freeze to death.
Maybe… this is for the best…
She couldn't help but be so pessimistic. She was exhausted. The more she struggled to resist her invisible enemy, the harder they pushed back to break her. All of Edmond's talk about hope and despair meant virtually nothing if the one terrorizing her was still out there. Furthermore, she feared getting everyone in Chaldea involved. If the Outer God was just trying to kill her, then maybe it would be safer to go along with it and spare the others from having to deal with such unnecessary baggage.
As the fierce blizzard peppered Connla's face with snow, she languidly gazed at her pure white surroundings. Just then, she spotted some sort of unusual color poking through a layer of thick snow. She just had enough energy to stumble toward the object so she could get a closer look at it. To her surprise, she discovered that it was a person lying face-up, holding a large sunflower in their hands and staring at the grey clouds far above them with an empty expression.
Connla kneeled next to the figure to inspect their features. It was a brown-haired woman wearing a strange assortment of artists' clothing. She gently shook her shoulder and murmured, "Hello?"
"…"
"Are you… alive?"
"…"
"Please say something."
"… Eh he he…"
The creepy giggle startled her. Slowly but surely, the mystery lady sat up, disturbing the pristine snow that blanketed her. Then she turned her eyes toward her, and smiled.
"Um…" Connla stammered, unsure of what to say. "Are you a Servant?"
"… Servant? Ihihihi… A chimera… that shouldn't exist… but nonetheless… a Servant."
"I don't understand."
The woman ignored her questions and returned her gaze to the sky while incoherently mumbling, "Nine days… and nine nights… Ignored devotion. Eh he he… Even in this snow-blasted hell, devoid of sunshine… My eyes will always gaze upon Apollo."
Connla closed her eyes. She became deathly silent for a moment as she pondered something. Soon, she stared at the manic young woman and murmured, "You wouldn't be the water nymph Clytie, would you?"
"Eh? Clytie… you say?"
"I've heard of the story that attempts to explain why heliotropes always looked to the sun. It's said that the water nymph Clytie loved Apollo, but he abandoned her for Leukothoe. Clytie spread false rumors of Leukothoe's infidelity, and her own father Orchamus put her to death. Clytie tried to win back Apollo, but his heart was further hardened by her cruel actions. For nine days and nine nights, Clytie sat on a rock facing the sun, with neither food nor drink to sustain herself. That's when she transformed into the heliotrope. But it's said that in later renditions of the story, Clytie changed into a different type of flower."
Connla gazed at the large plant the brown-haired woman tightly grasped, then said, "She became a sunflower."
"He he he… he he he hima… warui! Ah ah ah! A Gogh joke!" †
"Please answer the question. Is your True Name Clytie?"
"Well now," the woman grumbled, somewhat annoyed that the little girl wasn't laughing at her terrible pun. "If I had to describe myself as anything… it'd be… as a patchwork monster. That name sounds… kind of familiar. But… But I am Van Gogh."
The Lancer's eyes widened. "Vincent Van Gogh?"
"Something like that. Maybe… perhaps."
"Clytie… Van Gogh… I see. So that's why you call yourself a 'patchwork'. You're actually a composite Servant, primarily connected by the sunflower. I've seen images of the original Van Gogh's Sunflowers series in Chaldea's database. Clytie's mythology and Van Gogh's subject matter must have made you both compatible to be merged into a singular Servant."
The woman glanced away with an eerie grin. "I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean?"
"The true Vincent Van Gogh… is not here. He's… far, far away. Far beyond the Evil God's reach. I guess they crammed together pieces of mythology and real life… to make something hideous… as a substitute for Van Gogh. A jellyfish… wielding paintbrushes… as she stares at the sun…"
"A substitute? You mean this 'Evil God' wanted Mr. Van Gogh for something?"
"Eh he he he… Who can say? I know I'm not Gogh… But… I want to be something else. I want an identity. I thought I could get one… when I met the victim of another Evil God."
"…"
"Right…" the manic girl gazed at Connla. "Someone with the same face as you… Someone with the same voice as you… But someone… lacking the same gentleness… as you. Something like… Something like… Yeah… as my eyes met hers… I stared through the window of the Saint-Paul asylum… and inside the girl's hollow soul… was a star… comprised of incomprehensible shapes."
A horrible chill coursed through the child Lancer's skin. It wasn't from the sub-zero cold whatsoever. While others would dismiss this stranger's mutterings as nonsensical gibberish, she didn't see it that way. Then, with a stoic expression, she asked the woman a simple yet terrifying question:
"Did she call herself Aisling?"
"Oh? Oh? Oh? Oh my, my, my… How did you know? So many worlds apart… but you know her anyway. Truly, this is the miracle… of the Parallel Colors…"
However frightened she was, Connla needed to stave off the fear building up inside her soul. She needed to ask the woman all the questions she could. This was the best opportunity she had to glean any information she could about Chaldea's unknown enemy. She no longer cared that she was standing in the middle of a sub-zero snowy wasteland. She desperately implored, "You met Aisling somewhere?"
"That's right," the stranger moaned. "Eh he he… If I'm a 'patchwork'… then Aisling is… a 'dream'."
"That makes sense. Aisling means dream in Irish."
"Does it now?"
"Upon hearing that name, I kind of had a sinking suspicion that she was another 'me'. Unfortunately, I couldn't verify it without any proof. But the information that another one of my counterparts passed on to me before her death, along with your testimony, is evidence enough of the unthinkable – Aisling is a variant of the Child of Cuchulainn, who seeks to kill any of her counterparts who get too close to learning the truth about her. Apparently, she's working in tandem with an Outer God."
"Hmm… Hmmmmmm… That sounds… like what she was saying."
"What did you talk with Aisling about?" Connla asked.
"Something silly… Like, I could be this 'Denialist' thing, or whatever."
"She was trying to recruit you to be a Denialist?"
"I think so. But the things she was promising… were so absurd. She said, 'You can rewrite your past… so that Apollo loves you. Don't you want that chance… to get what your heart has always yearned for? Don't you want to… feel the warmth of the sun… for yourself?' Honestly… what was she going on about? What is this 'Denialist' nonsense anyway?"
Connla nodded. "I met other Servants that Aisling recruited. Denialists are Servants who want to infiltrate the past and rewrite events according to their liking. Their motives are different, but the one thing they have in common is that they despise the histories and legends that shaped them into Heroic Spirits."
"I see… I see, I see, I see… So you've been getting in their way… which means you earned Aisling's ire. I see… Aisling said that making my dreams come true… would come at the cost… of becoming a murderer."
"Did she ask you to kill me?"
"Yeah… A girl with the same face as her… was a blank canvas… that needed to be covered… in red paint. Excuse me, I mean… in all the blood she could possibly spill."
"What was your response?"
The stranger's smile grew increasingly twisted. "Eh he he he he he he he he he he… I laughed at her. And then I told her to eat a potato."
Connla became visibly confused. "I'm sorry, but what is that supposed to mean?"
"What else? I declined her offer."
"You did!?"
The stranger's eyes constricted into barely-visible dots. "Even if I had the Holy Grail… Even if I took Aisling's offer… how could anything… undo the pain… of that betrayal at the villa!? What would even become of me!? What would I… become? The answer to that question must be my wish, but to seek it through miraculous means… is something that both the Evil God inside me, and the Evil God inside Aisling… would want."
"You keep saying 'Evil God', but what exactly is it? Is Aisling being affected by a demon? Or a deity that favors evil?"
"Demon? God? Human? Animal? Spirit? No, no, no, no, it's nothing as simple as that. You know already, don't you? That's why you were reading The Color Out of Space."
"Huh? How do you know that?"
The woman kept rambling as if she didn't hear the question. "Your soul… was somewhere else. It was in… a fictitious world, created by an Evil God."
An unnatural shiver coursed through Connla, and it wasn't because of the severe cold. It was exactly the same thing that Edmond Dantes claimed. She grew desperate as she asked, "The Evil God inside you?"
The strange woman smiled eerily. "No. The Evil God… inside you."
The Lancer swallowed hard. Terror gripped her soul. So many questions raced through her mind that she couldn't focus on a single one. Was there really an alien deity dwelling within her? If so, which one? How did it happen? When did it happen? Why did it happen? What did the alien want with her? Were they going to endanger Chaldea to get to her? Were Ritsuka, Mash, Roman, Da Vinci, Cuchulainn, Medb, and everyone else around her going to be targeted?
One thing was for certain:
"I… I need to tell my father about this."
"Father?" the stranger murmured curiously. She then raised her shaking finger like a hobbled old woman and moaned, "You mean that giant tailed fellow running straight toward us?"
"Eh?"
Connla only had enough time to turn around and spot a large figure making a mad dash straight for her. Before she knew it, he was directly upon her, snatching her arms with a vice-like grip and shoving his bloodshot eyes directly before her shocked face.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE!?" Cuchulainn Alter screamed with the pitch of a thousand windows shattering simultaneously. Maybe Connla was imagining things, but he seemed to be in the throes of an intense riastrad, judging by the extra eyes that almost tore open on his forehead and cheeks.
"F-Father…"
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU'RE IN RIGHT NOW!? I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SLAP YOU SILLY FOR PULLING SUCH AN INSANE STUNT ON ME!"
"Uh… I, um… Well…"
Once he exhausted the worst of his fury, he inspected her and shouted, "By the gods, look at you! You're barely dressed to walk around in this weather! Do you have a death wish or something!?"
"N-No… I just…"
"Cuchulainn!" they heard Ritsuka calling out from several meters behind. The young Mage and her Demi-Servant friend Mash put on the best winter gear they could find on such short notice and hurried outside after the livid Berserker. Ritsuka exclaimed, "Is she okay!?"
"She's alive, at the very least," Cuchulainn grumbled, but was still too furious to hold a normal conversation with her. He turned his attention back to the bewildered Connla as he tore off his black mantle and curled it around her entire body while growling, "You get your ass back inside, young lady! Once you're warmed up, you've got a lot of explaining to do!"
"I'm… I'm sorry…" Connla whimpered. "I don't know… what's going on…"
"Don't you give me that shit! How the hell were you able to get through so many layers of security and wander way out here without anyone noticing!?"
Ritsuka's communicator beeped, and she transmitted an image of Roman's face before them. The doctor yelped, "Look, I understand how you feel, but this isn't the time or place to be asking her any kind of questions! Get her to the infirmary stat, or she'll die of hypothermia!"
"Yeah, I know!" the irate Cuchulainn snapped and scooped Connla onto his arms.
Suddenly, she tried to take off the cape as she told Roman in a hoarse voice, "I-I'm fine, actually… For some reason, I'm feeling kind of hot…"
Roman inhaled a sharp gasp and yelled, "Crap, that's even worse! She's experiencing extreme confusion, leading her to paradoxically undress! Hurry it up, Cu! She might only last less than two minutes out there!"
"Tch!" the Berserker cursed at himself, then galloped back to Chaldea's base entrance with all the strength his legs could muster. He even enhanced them with Runes to improve his speed, allowing him to dash an entire 500 meters in under 25 seconds.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
† - The Japanese word for sunflower is himawari. Gogh's joke involves integrating the hi into her laughing, plus changing the wari to warui, meaning 'something that is bad', or 'My bad!'