FATE/PARALLEL COLORS

Chapter 7: Speak His Name

Ritsuka and Mash watched Cuchulainn disappear into the blizzard with Connla. Once they vanished within the snowstorm, they turned their attention to the strange brown-haired woman with the sunflower. She just stared back at them with a listless gaze and a hollow smile.

"Senpai," Mash said, "I'm probably just as confused as you about what's going on here. But we need to prioritize getting back inside before we freeze to death out here."

Ritsuka nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Of course, we're taking her along with us."

Without another word, the young Master snatched the lady's wrist and forced her to run along with them back to the facility. Every second they were stuck out in the unrelenting frigidness of the Antarctic was another potential second closer to death for Ritsuka. Mash decided to use all of her strength to pick both of them up beneath her arms and leap multiple times toward the entrance, covering the distance much faster than they would have if they continued running on foot. Emergency staff were already at the door waiting for their return, and they programmed all of the locks back on once they were safely inside.

"Whew! Talk about a real scare! Is everything all right?" a blonde-haired technician wondered.

"Everything's fine now. Sorry about that, Sylvia," Ritsuka apologized. "Roman said he had everything under control with Connla, but she somehow escaped outside and we had to fetch her pronto."

"Unbelievable. How in the world did she breach so many layers of security and wander out during such a terrible storm?"

Just then, the brunette Servant chuckled, "Eh he he… She teleported."

"Teleported? Like what she did in the simulator against Lucius and Cu Lancer?"

"I… guess so? Well, no matter how secure your house may be, it's totally useless in the face of an Outer God's influence."

"I see…"

Sylvia had to pause for a second when she realized who she was talking to. She immediately became baffled when she exclaimed, "Wait a minute! Who on Earth are you, anyway!?"

"Me? Hmm… an uninvited guest, maybe? I'm not really sure, myself."

After Ritsuka and Mash peeled the many layers of coats, leggings and boots off of them, the latter said, "I don't really know either, but you're definitely a Servant, aren't you? No human would have survived in such conditions for so long."

"Yeah. I'm a Foreigner."

"Foreign… er?"

"That's a new one," Ritsuka raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?" the brown-haired lady grew perplexed. "You've never heard of the Foreigner class before?"

"Can't say I have. We're going to need Roman and Da Vinci to check this out. For now, let's get you warmed up and acquainted with everyone. What's your True Name, Miss Foreigner?"

The lady wasn't sure how to respond to such overt friendliness. She shivered for a moment, then uttered, "True Name, huh? Must be nice to have one."

"You mean you don't know? Like you have amnesia?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just… eh he he… I… don't know if you can give a name to a chimera like myself."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm a patchwork freak fused into one, all due to an Outer God's influence. I'm both… and neither…"

Ritsuka, Mash and Sylvia glanced at each other, unsure of how to respond. The Master then firmed her expression and asked, "Okay, so what are the parts that comprise your Spirit Origin?"

"Well… one is Clytie, the tragic heroine of the world's most epic 'notice me, Senpai'… The other… is the painter who was crazy enough to chop his own ear off… Van Gogh."

"The water nymph Clytie, and Vincent Van Gogh?" Mash murmured. "That's a weird combination."

"Eh he he he… I'm honored… that you recognize how absurd that is."

"Oh no, I wasn't trying to insult you or anything! I just wasn't expecting anything like that!"

Sylvia remarked, "Actually, it kind of makes sense. Both of them are connected to the sunflower in their own ways. Even so, what exactly is this Outer God business you're talking about?"

The Foreigner frowned. That question seemed to stir some sort of unpleasant emotion within her. She grit her teeth to compose herself, then answered in a stern tone, "Ever heard of Lovecraft? Cthulhu mythos, Nyarlathotep and all that?"

"Yeah, I have."

"When someone makes contact with such bizarre entities, they have the potential to be summoned as Foreigners. In my case though… it's more like the Outer God meddled with Van Gogh's life, and fused his leftovers with Clytie. Yeah… I'm the result of a recipe gone hilariously wrong. Chop a jellyfish's legs into pieces, add grass and paint, and mix into a salad of nightmares…"

"Why would they do such a thing?" Mash wondered.

"It's… a long story."

"I guess we can get that info out of you later. For now, I think we should give you a name and have you make a contract with Senpai."

"Eh?" the woman appeared genuinely surprised. "You'd make a contract… with me?"

"At the very least, you should stick around long enough to thank Connla," Ritsuka said. "It was terrifying that she wandered outside, but thanks to that, we were able to save you. You could say that you owe her your life."

"Hmm… I guess I do. Eh he he… what a lovely emotion. Hurry, hurry, hurry! I need a paintbrush! Any of you got some materials I can use for painting!?"

"Uh, well, I think Da Vinci would have some, since she's a world-famous artist herself."

"Ooooh, how exciting!"

"But before we do anything, we're going to give you a name!"

"Oh… right, right. That annoying little thing, huh? Honestly, I don't really care," the Foreigner immediately became displeased.

"Then I'll pick," Ritsuka said. "Who do you feel like you're more in tune with? Clytie, or Van Gogh?"

"Well… Hmm… if I reaaaa~aaally had to choose… I'd say Gogh. His memories, sorrow, creativity, and madness resonate within me as a flower that should never bloom…"

"Then your name is Van Gogh."

The newly-named Servant vaguely smiled. Although she said she wasn't interested in being given a name, her jubilant reaction completely contradicted that statement. Sylvia said, "Let's take care of the contract then. Once that's settled, we'll have to interrogate her on a bunch of things, like what this Foreigner class is, or what she knows about Connla."

Van Gogh stared hard at the technician, then uttered, "Interrogate? Why do you have to use such an unpleasant word? Couldn't you say something nicer? Like talk? Or chat? Or… ne-Gogh-tiate? Ah ha ha ha! A Gogh joke!"

Mash whispered into Ritsuka's ear, "Something tells me we're going to have our hands full with her."

"Hey, at least it won't be dull around here anymore."

"Yeah, you've got that right."

In the medical ward, Cuchulainn brought the near-unconscious Connla back to her bed, and both Roman and Nightingale worked feverishly to get her body temperature back up by dressing her in a new nightgown, wrapping blankets around her, and applying hot packs to the worst of her damaged skin. As they treated her, Cuchulainn sat next to the shivering child and asked, "What in the world were you thinking, traipsing around in the goddamn Antarctic like that!? Don't you know that you could have died out there!?"

"…"

"What happened, anyway? Do you remember anything?"

She turned away from him in fear and whimpered, "… No."

"What's wrong? Why won't you look at me?"

"Y-You said… you'd slap me silly…"

He scratched his head, chastising himself for being careless with his choice of words. He rested his hands on her trembling shoulders and assured, "Come on, I was just upset. I might look like some spiky monster out of a horror story, but you know I wouldn't punish you like your mother would."

"T-Then… you're not going to… hit me?"

"Of course not. We all know it wasn't your fault. You're being possessed by something, and we're going to figure out what the hell it is."

Consoled with those words, Connla was able to look up at Cuchulainn without fear in her eyes anymore. He grinned and said, "Good. Now, where were you while your body was being controlled?"

"I was somewhere… that I didn't recognize whatsoever…"

"Were you dreaming as one of your alternate selves like usual?"

"No."

He was rather surprised by this. "No? So it really was some vague dream you were having?"

"I don't know if 'dream' is the right word to use…"

"Then what is?"

"I have no idea. It was so strange. It was like I was a character in some story that was being played out in real life… something like, I was self-inserted directly into someone else's work of fiction. I totally forgot who I was, and I lived my life out as this character, complete with her own thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and experiences. The story itself seems so familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it…"

To say that Cuchulainn was weirded out was a massive understatement. He really had no idea how to respond to such an outrageous claim. He wasn't sure if she was just delirious from her hypothermia, or if she was telling him the truth. Instead, he asked, "How did you manage to break out of this… illusion, or story, or whatever?"

"Hmm… I know something happened… but it's just so fuzzy…"

"Take your time. Don't try to force yourself to remember."

Connla sat there in silence, struggling to recall what happened. About two minutes later, Nightingale approached them and asked, "How are we feeling? Do your extremities require amputation, as I suggested?"

"No, I can begin to feel my toes and fingers again," the Lancer murmured.

"Ugh, is amputation the first thing that always pops into your head, woman?" Cuchulainn growled.

"How could it not, after seeing such serious frostbite affecting her limbs?"

"This is precisely why that lummox Roman is the doctor in charge, rather than a lunatic like you."

"Naturally. He's the doctor, and I'm the nurse. Nurses are not supposed to be the authority for a patient's medical care."

"Yet you flounce around like you're the head honcho. Seriously, make your goddamn mind up already."

"We are digressing from the main issue at hand. Although I wanted to check on the patient's status, I'm also here to tell you that she has a visitor."

Before Nightingale could say anything further, an unfamiliar man dressed in black clothes and a fedora stepped through the door to Connla's room. He turned his steely amber eyes toward the child Servant, who in turn gaped with surprise, pointed at him, and exclaimed, "Mr. Edmond!"

"Good, you're wide awake," the strange man said.

"Huh? Who the hell are you?" Cuchulainn glowered with obvious suspicion in his eyes.

Before the Avenger could respond, Connla blurted, "I remember now! I was fighting against Mr. Edmond right before I woke up!"

"You were fighting this guy?"

"Yeah. Somehow, he inserted himself into that illusion I was living in, and managed to snap me awake. The next thing I knew, I was outside in that blizzard."

Cuchulainn stared at Edmond for a long moment, then muttered, "Something's not right. I don't recognize him as one of Chaldea's Servants."

Nightingale added, "Neither do I."

"Of course you don't," Edmond retorted with a crass tone. "I was only summoned just now."

"How? There aren't any records of either Ritsuka or Waver using the summoning system lately. If I recall, Da Vinci told me that it had activated spontaneously, and that we should be on the lookout for any unregistered Servants lurking around. I'm guessing you're that Servant in question?"

"More or less. As for how I was summoned without a Master, it's rather simple. A Servant's blood or tears can function as catalysts for another summoning, usually of a Servant that is closely related to the first, such as a family member or one belonging to the same nation. In my case, it was the cries of absolute grief and desperation that called to me. Someone was calling out for help, and I responded."

He focused his gaze on Connla, and the confused girl mumbled, "You mean… me?"

"Who else? You were near FATE when you lost control of your emotions. Your sincere tears and bottled-up despair were the catalysts required to summon me – a fellow Servant who likewise experienced the darkest pits of hell and relied upon help from another to escape."

"I was near FATE? When on Earth did that happen?"

Nightingale explained, "When you ran out of the simulator after Cu Lancer stopped you."

"Mmngh… I'm sorry, but I really don't remember…"

"Well, that's not important," Edmond said. "What matters is that I should clarify what was going on with the young Lancer while the Outer God took control of her body multiple times."

Cuchulainn was shocked to hear this. "You know what the hell's going on here!?"

"I was summoned with any knowledge pertaining to the illusion she was trapped in. Certainly made my job a lot easier with that information as a backdrop."

"Tell me! Tell me who's controlling her, and why!"

"Calm yourself, Hound of Ulster. I can't guarantee that I can answer all of your questions, but I fully intend to explain as much as I can. First of all, I want you to take a look at this," Edmond said as he fetched a book out of his trench coat and handed it to Connla before asking, "Does this look familiar to you?"

"The Color Out of Space, by H. P. Lovecraft…" she whispered. "Yes, I read this a few days ago."

"It's about a nameless surveyor who travels to Arkham, Massachusetts to do some surveying work while uncovering the mysteries surrounding the deaths of Nahum Gardner and his family. Ultimately, it's concluded that a meteorite carrying an alien entity crashed into the Gardners' well and polluted everything around it, from the land, to the crops, and extending to the family itself."

"This is…"

"Well? Any memories coming back to you now?"

"Yeah. This is the exact same story I was trapped within."

"Seriously?" Cuchulainn yelped and grabbed the book out of her hands. "Why would you read something so bizarre, anyway? I thought you were into boring textbooks and encyclopedias, not horror fiction like this."

"W-Well… um…"

"What's wrong with perusing fictional stories every once in a while?" Nightingale asked, hoping to defend Connla from her father's accusations.

"Yeah, but something like this? That just seems totally out of character for her."

Edmond narrowed his eyes. "She has a good reason. She's just not willing to divulge it to anyone."

Connla shamefully lowered her eyes and stared at the ground. Cuchulainn stared at her intently, then murmured, "I knew it. You're hiding something, aren't you?"

"…"

"You haven't been acting yourself ever since we got back from the Akakor world. If anything, you're becoming more and more distant from us. Did you discover something that you don't want us to find out?"

"…"

"Now, now, you can't blame her," Edmond smirked. "She already dragged all of Chaldea into her quest to save her Akakor counterpart. She was fearful of doing the same thing again with this new problem she's facing. As her father, you should know what she's like – naïve, serious to a fault, and doesn't want to ask for help."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I was suspicious that she was keeping something from me."

"Good intuition. Although I don't know the details myself, I can tell you that she learned something crucial from her Akakor counterpart, which led to her reading Lovecraftian fiction as a means of researching a topic that she is wholly unfamiliar with."

Cuchulainn asked the timid Connla, "So you were reading stories like this as a form of research?"

"… Mm."

"What did Cliste tell you that would prompt such a search?"

"Well… it's kind of hard to explain… It happened right after I defeated Nagual in the dream world, exactly at the same time you killed her in the physical world."

"So you two had a chat that none of us know about?"

"Yeah. Remember how Nagual said that she became the Artificial Beast in order to search other parallel worlds for Aisling?"

"Right, I remember. Cliste said that Aisling sent Marquis de Sade as a Denialist to both kill her and alter the Akakor world's future, dooming it to be Pruned before it could become a cancer that threatened our world. But how did all of that come to happen? As far as I can tell, Cliste and Aisling don't have any connection with each other whatsoever."

"Actually… they do…" Connla whimpered, then started to shake uncontrollably.

"How?"

She gulped hard. The truth was almost too hard for her to comprehend. She tried to take some deep breaths to calm herself, but couldn't stop her excited nerves from trembling. Nightingale sat next to her and said, "Take deep breaths. Short, shallow gasps like that prevent you from getting oxygen to the brain, which in turn causes you to panic more."

"Y-Yes… I'll try…"

After a few moments of regaining her composure, she finally admitted to Cuchulainn, "Aisling's… not our enemy."

"… Huh? How can you say that when they're trying so hard to kill you?"

"Aisling's innocent. She's not the one after me."

"'She'?" he murmured. This was the first time he was learning what Aisling's true gender was. The moment he heard that, his chest started to experience a deep sinking feeling.

Connla told him, "It's the Outer God that's controlling her body, exactly the same way it's been using mine."

"Wha-!?"

"It's the Outer God who's trying to silence me. It's hijacked her Spirit Origin in order to kill any of us counterparts who discover too much about her through our Imbas Forosnai visions."

"Y-You're not saying…"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Finally, she mustered enough courage to look him in the eye and tell him the truth:

"Aisling's another one of my counterparts."

Two hours later, another meeting was brought to session in the main command center. With all of the shocking new information that Connla, Edmond and Van Gogh possessed, it was inevitable that Roman would want to gather everyone involved in order to bring all of these pieces together and determine who Chaldea's alien enemy was. Nightingale and Edmond were the ones who told Roman, Da Vinci, Ritsuka and Waver what Connla just told Cuchulainn, and they all agreed that they needed to hold a serious discussion. The entire premise of 'Aisling trying to assassinate Connla' had been completely upended, and they desperately wanted to make sense of this revelation.

As far as Cuchulainn was concerned, he had no enthusiasm to join the conversation. Once he heard the truth from Connla, all he could do was hold her close and not say a word. He couldn't imagine how terrified she must have been after learning something so devastating and attempting to hide it from everyone in Chaldea. Nightingale and Edmond left them like this in silence, unable to say anything that could console them. For now, they trusted that he would look after her until everyone figured out what to do next.

Roman initiated the meeting by intertwining his fingers together, then grimly murmuring, "Well… what now, people?"

"What now, indeed," Da Vinci said. "Not only do we have to worry about searching for the Seventh Singularity, now we the threat of an Outer God dumped onto our laps. I'm not sure if we have the resources to deal with both simultaneously."

"Meaning we have to dispatch this opponent as quickly as possible, or else the King of Mages might take advantage of our confusion and overwhelm us. The first thing we have to do is determine the identity of this Outer God, and what its connection is with Connla. Once we establish that, we can figure out how to retaliate."

"According to Van Gogh, she said said that the Vincent Van Gogh part of her Spirit Origin made contact with a different Outer God during his lifetime, which caused him to go mad and commit suicide," Mash explained. "That was the qualification for Vincent to be summoned as a Foreigner himself, but he is not registered on the Throne of Heroes due to fear of the Outer God's influence threatening humanity should he be summoned as a full-fledged Servant."

"So our Van Gogh's unstable mentality could be considered a blessing in disguise," Medea said, glancing at the Foreigner as she scribbled something on a piece of paper with some pencils.

"Maybe. Anyway, my point is that if Vincent Van Gogh made contact with an Outer God during his lifetime, wouldn't it mean that the same thing happened to Connla when she was alive?"

"There's no conceivable way that could have happened. No records of such an occurrence exist," Sigurd interjected. Despite saying this, he grew more uncomfortable as he admitted, "Alas, sometimes a record doesn't have to exist in order for it to be true. This is akin to the paradox of a tree falling in a forest; if no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

"That could be especially true when dealing with Lovecraftian gods," Crom Cruach said. "Their existences completely defy the laws of human logic and reason anyway. It's not impossible to imagine that certain Heroic Spirits made contact with alien entities without humanity being aware of it."

"Remiss as I am to agree with you, we must face the facts – Connla somehow came into contact with an Outer God when she was alive, and now that contact is biting us in the proverbial ass."

"I agree," Roman said. "Although I am curious about how and why such a thing happened, right now I want to focus our attention on the question of who this alien deity is. Is there any way to determine its identity?"

Dantes closed his eyes in contemplation. After a moment of thought, he opened them again and gazed at the crowd. He eventually said, "Let's start with the basics. Outer Gods, Great Old Ones, whatever you want to call them, are said to be malevolent entities possessing tremendous powers that lie beyond human comprehension. They first originated in the Cthulhu Mythos by Howard Philips Lovecraft, and subsequent authors have been inspired to create similar creatures based on this completely new mythology. Though they are supposed to be fictional, there is sufficient evidence to suggest that they may very well be real. This is only a theory I have, but it's possible that Lovecraft and other authors may have made some sort of contact with these entities themselves, and wrote about their experiences as novels for future generations to peruse."

Mash frowned and admitted, "I'm afraid I don't know much about Lovecraft and the aliens he and others created. Maybe Cthulhu, if only because the mythos is named after him, but nothing else."

Edmond said, "Some of the more popular Outer Gods include Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth, Hastur, and Nyarlathotep. The narrative for each story is rather abstract and strange, as if attempting to explain what these creatures are in human words is almost impossible. The one common thread between them is that they are all extremely hostile, and that they influence the universe way beyond our solar system's confines. You could say that we have been most fortunate to avoid their notice due to how remote our galaxy is."

The Demi-Servant gulped nervously. "But… there is at least one or two who know about us, right?"

"So it would seem. Ms. Van Gogh already appears to be inexorably interlinked with one," the Avenger murmured, then faced the silent artist and asked, "If you don't mind, could you tell us which Outer God is influencing your Spirit Origin?"

"Well…" Van Gogh mumbled under her breath. "That is very… difficult. Vincent would know more… since the Outer God tried to influence him."

"So this alien being specifically went after Vincent Van Gogh, and caused him to go mad?"

"Not quite. Vincent went mad… not because the Outer God controlled him… but because the Outer God wanted to control him."

"What do you mean?"

"Vincent… has a special power. A power… to turn normal human Foreigners… into gods… and amplify their existence."

"Well now. So Vincent Van Gogh went mad and committed suicide in order to thwart the Outer God's ambitions?"

"Yeah. He never told anyone. He feared their ridicule… and the god's punishment… as he spiraled further and further… until he finally gave up his life. Honestly… so stupid. He should have struggled. He should have done his best to survive. Ah… why am I attached to someone… so lacking in determination? I can barely stand it…"

Edmond snapped Van Gogh out of her reverie by blurting, "That still doesn't answer my question. If we can't ask Vincent, then we'll ask you instead, Water Nymph. Which Outer God are you connected to?"

"Eh he he he… Take my answer however you want. Choke to death on it, or just flavor your tongue with a pinch of it. Either way… I think it is the Sleeper of Ravermos, and the Evil God of Flowers… Vulthoom. As we speak… he sleeps within Ravermos, the underground city of Mars, continued to be worshipped by the Aihai."

"An evil god that can control nature, huh? Considering how you and Vincent Van Gogh are connected to sunflowers, it would make sense for the Outer God to be connected to flowers as well."

Ritsuka appeared nervous as she asked, "He's on Mars? That's, like, way closer to us than the Andromeda Galaxy."

"Don't worry," Van Gogh uttered. "Vulthoom may be powerful… but requires millennia of rest. The one time it woke up… was during Vincent's lifetime. Perhaps when it stirs again… humanity will already be extinct."

"Well that's reassuring to know," Da Vinci said. "But there's still the Outer God lurking in Andromeda, which is clearly connected with Connla. We can assume that unlike Vulthoom, this one is wide awake and ready to cause trouble for us. That leads us to the main question; since you spoke with Aisling directly, you managed to see which Outer God is controlling her. Are you able to tell us what its identity is?"

Van Gogh glanced away and chuckled uneasily. Medea glared at her and demanded, "What's so funny? Don't you know that this same monstrosity tried to snack on my magical energy without my permission?"

"N-No, I was just trying to remember… what this Outer God looked like."

"You saw its physical appearance?"

"Eh he he… Appearance, you say? I'm not so sure…"

"Ugh, start making sense already! Your incessant ramblings are driving me nuts!"

"Okay, you tell me, then. How do you describe a three-dimensional illusion?"

"Huh?"

"It's not that the god emits illusions to confuse others… It's more like the alien is an illusion."

"The alien is an illusion?"

"Grey shapes so flat that you cannot tell which are near or far… Crazy diamonds, I believe it's called? There were tons of shapes… Cones, rods, cylinders, diamonds, spheres, sphericons, gyroids, helixes… Countless types of hedrons… All of them, there. Twisting, turning, undulating, refusing to adhere to human logic… Attempting to form into a quadrupedal, and failing miserably… I couldn't tell if the small head was its face, or the giant row of teeth on its body. The living embodiment of total nonsense, and the madness of attempting to make sense of it… That is the best way to define this being."

Medea swallowed. She couldn't fathom that she came dangerously close to observing such a nonsensical monster for herself. The idea that Connla had observed it in the past, and that it was controlling her counterpart Aisling, deeply disturbed her.

"Despite that… I did my best to recreate it," Van Gogh said as, without ceremony, she showed them the picture she was doodling. While it was very well drawn, it certainly was weird, to put it mildly. It was entirely grey, comprised of countless steel shapes forcing themselves to fit together into some singular 3D puzzle-like monstrosity. The greyness wasn't just because of the pencils she was using – she had also mixed in some monochrome coloring pencils into the illustration.

No one really knew what to say. Although Da Vinci was fascinated by this monster's bizarre geometric construction, she didn't want to offend anyone who became upset from seeing the drawing. For all intents and purposes, they were looking at the real mastermind behind every single one of Connla's troubles up to this point. Not just her recent possessions, but also the Denmark Singularity and the downfall of the Akakor world… all of it caused by this unspeakable abomination.

"… So?" Ritsuka muttered. "What is this thing's name?"

Van Gogh's smile appeared placid, but was obviously marred with discomfort.

"He's not a very popular Outer God. Even among his alien kind… he's something of an outcast. His worship is rare… but he does have some astrologer-priests devoted to him. I think Aisling is an acolyte training to become such a priestess."

"…"

"He is a creation of Ramsay Campbell, an author inspired by Lovecraft. He drifts in dimensions unknown to us… capable of granting his followers the ability to perceive the world for what it is. He parts the veils on the senses that block our very souls from witnessing the absolute truth. Thus, he is the Render of Veils…"

She closed her eyes and trembled, as if fearful of speaking the name.

"… Daoloth."