Two thoughts occurred to me as I made my way over to Glenwood Park. First one was that this might just very well reveal the location of Caster to Rider. After all, Saladin had only said harm would not befall me; never said nothing about me being tailed and watched by assassins. I don't know what happened at the end of the fight last night, or how he and the priest managed to get out alive, but he didn't seem too bad for someone who was engaged in that shit longer than Lancer or Saber; wouldn't put it past him that he already had a network of eyes spread back over the city.
Second thought was that this might very well reveal the location of Caster to Archer. After all, Archer had shot at us from, like, what...? Halfway across the city? Maybe even more? Was he able to do that because the master was at the location, or did Archer just have such superior eyesight that he could legitimately see over the entire city from up on those office towers?
Archer with the high ground advantage… fucking terrific…
Despite that, Caster had to be my next stop if I was going to see him today. Or rather, it was because of those possibilities that I had to see Caster next if I was to do so at all today.
No hostile actions during the day, but come the cover of night, if Archer really can see the entirety of the city from up there…
I'd be a sitting duck. Didn't matter if I didn't leave a sense of magical energy about me or not; Archer would have saw me when he shot at us all last night. I doubted Archer would forget the look of a master that quickly.
Even if he couldn't just snipe me out alone, the fact Rider and the priest are still standing meant I had to consider that last night ended with him and Archer in an alliance. Shame I hadn't even considered that until after I had left the church; massive blunder on my part, assuming Rider would have indeed answered such a question, though I suspected he would have. If the assassins could create a relay network to deliver precise coordinates to Archer for him to just 'blind fire' accurately… well, that would perhaps be even more terrifying a situation.
Berserker too… It could very well be a three-way alliance. Unlikely, I think, but until I get confirmation…
"Well, putting all that aside" I sighed, taking in the trees surrounding me as I entered the wooded area of the park, "Caster did say access can't be restricted. Meaning if I find the place, I can get it…"
But where did Caster make than entrance!? I know he said it will glow with the red light and shit, but that was only when I got up close to it! Until that happened though, I was walking round like a dumbass, it seems…
"Definitely going to mark it's location on my phone this time" I sighed, walking through the seemingly endless sea of trees.
…Has Rider started trying to piece together what my wish is…?
The thought amused me as I wandered the trees. I wasn't sure if Rider would pick up on anything from our conversation, but Rider was a smart man. Or so I believed. If anyone could even remotely begin to try and piece together what I could wish for, it would be someone like him, no?
"Two skilled web spinners, and thus unable to display their skills on each other directly" I muttered dejected. "It leaves too much to the imagination until our next encounter. But at least Rider and the priest should be a fun opposition force; should be able to show me plenty of beauty."
Well… I say that, but…
"Rider's sense of authority… Or was it even authority…" I began thinking back on what it was that had compelled me to sit back down. "That was… weird… That urge to sit back down was not my own. Or it didn't feel like it was entirely my own. But if that's the case, then what was it…?"
A game is, by definition, anything with stated or implied success and failure conditions. Thus, war was indeed a game. As war was a game, this Holy Grail War was also a game. Following the line to its natural conclusion…
"Servants were summoned in classes… Classes… Limited by class… Noble Phantasms, if considered to be an ultimate, of sorts… Ugh, what was that thing Johnathan had said? Some- Ah! That's right: Presence Concealment!"
In other words…
"Skills" it hit me smack dab in the face. "Summoned and split into classes, restricted by said class, consider any Noble Phantasm to be an ultimate ability, and all that's missing from this game's system is basic skills! Well, that and stats. Presence Concealment certainly sounds like the name of a skill though!"
So, Rider must have used a skill then; mentally coerce or compel me to sit back down. But if servants were just copies of heroes and their lives, then skills should have lined up with what they could do in life, no? After all, everything else followed that rule. Exceptions may prove rules, but to have such a big exception in the system… that would more make having the rule in the first place kinda retarded. Saladin didn't know magic in life, far as I knew at least. He couldn't control my thoughts with a magic spell then, right? Then what kind of skill could he have that-
"…Not magical, no… But, diplomatic…?"
Saladin was someone I would indeed consider to be skilled in the art of diplomacy, back when he was alive. Assuming skills like that also existed for servants who were capable in such matters in their lives…
"The nature of the conversation morphed over time, but it was originally set up as a meeting between diplomatic envoys, right? Question for question; answer for answer… between antagonistic camps…"
…Too early to confirm anything, but I did find it reasonable to assume that Rider must have some kind of skill that gave him an edge in diplomatic situations between himself and his enemies. But how the skill worked exactly, if my declining the offer of the alliance was the skill failing or not, I couldn't be sure of yet.
"Taking all that into account, would be reasonable to also assume that stats of some kind exist as well within this game's system… Also, Sortiara said something odd to Rider last night: something about knight classes? Obviously she meant Saber and Lancer, but she spoke as if those two were knight classes and Rider wasn't. That can't have no meaning; someone like Sortiara wouldn't have said that otherwise. But what does it mean? Are there some similar properties, like stats or skills, that are shared amongst only certain classes? Or is it that… Ugh; too much to try to work out alone! Tonight, when I see them, I need to get a full rundown on the system this game uses!"
…And I still needed to find that entrance! By the gods, just where did Caster end up making that thing again?! I reflexively refused to give up on this, but all the same, I knew I would have to. Nightfall would require shelter, and being with the two kids and their servants was, in my opinion, a safer bet. Not because I thought the labyrinth couldn't deal with intruders, mind you-
"But I don't think I would live through the night if I was with Caster; he'd definitely run out of patience and kill me" I mused, finishing the thought aloud.
Mercifully, it actually didn't take all that much longer to find the entrance. Of course, by find, I mean more like coincidentally stumble upon. Yeah, ok Caster, the shit glows red technically, but that shit was really fucking faint in the daylight! Maybe it was brighter at night, but I doubted that shit on principle of being pissed at almost missing it entirely now.
"Okay…" I mumbled, setting a pin on the map application my phone had. "That solves step one: find the entrance. Step two… how do you open? Do I-"
I took a step inside the faintly glowing square of red light. As soon as my foot made contact with the dirt within the boundary of the square, the ground shook a little, and the entrance revealed itself; the dirt retracting into itself, as it had that first night.
"…Well, that was easy…"
Walking down the staircase, I checked the time on my phone. It was just around three in the afternoon now, which would leave me about two and a half to three hours to leave and make my way over to the kids if I wanted to be off the streets by nightfall.
"Step three: find Caster" I ran my hand along the wall, taking in the feeling of the cool marble. "Wonder if he's made any renovations to the place…"
Sadly, there sure didn't seem to have been any changes to the labyrinth. At least for the hallway, corridor things. Still the same, simple, nigh linear layout to the heart of it. All the same though, I did feel a… tug… at the back of my head. Sort of like someone, or something, was tugging on something that was connected to me back there.
"Curious" I muttered to myself. "Feels weird, but no pain or anything. What is that supposed to be…?"
However, then I reached the door to what I presumed was the workshop. Or doors, I should say, considering there were two. Very nice looking, polished wood as well… Last time it had just been a hole as an entranceway. Why build doors, of all things? Seemed really out of place for a labyrinth.
"Ah well" I sighed. "Maybe the workshop has-"
"-BLASTED THINGS!"
As I began pushing one of the doors open, I hear a thunderous crack, along with Caster shouting. Then, like hail falling, the sound of many small bits of things scattering across the room. Reflexively, I backed away from the door, letting it close again.
"…The fuck was that…?"
I went to push open the door again. As it began to open-
"-CAN'T CAPTURE AT ANY DECENT-"
Caster was shouting at something or other on the workbench he was hunched over. From the little bit of vision I had gained by cracking open the door, I couldn't see too much, but I did notice the inside looked very different, as did the layout.
I backed away from the door, allowing it to close again. As soon as it closed, there was only silence… and my heartbeat.
"…Wait a minute…"
Open the door slightly…
"-STORAGE IS PATHETICLY-"
Close the door…
"…"
Open.
"-POINT IN GIVING IT ALL THAT-"
Close.
"…"
Open.
"-SHOULD HAVE WORKED FINE-"
Close.
"…"
"…Holy shit, they soundproof the room" a massive grin crept upon my face. "Like, perfectly; even with Caster being that loud! That's so fucking cool! Question the practicality of it for a place like this, but still… fucking beautiful…"
Opening the door for real this time!
"Hey Cas-"
"-FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS STOP PLAYING AROUND ALREADY ICAR-"
Caster finally turned around and faced the doors. His face was completely red; more so than I think I'd even seen from my dad when he used to yell at me, which… well, it was saying something…
"-ter…" I stammered out; mind completely shut down by what I was seeing.
Upon seeing me standing in the doorway, Caster had also immediately stopped his shouting. He was still completely red in the face, and looked set to kill the first person he could get his hands on. In short, he had gone completely rabid; feral. But he, too, seemed to be frozen in place; like his eyes and brain were interpreting the current event very different from one another.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then two. Three… Then I blinked, and it was all over. Caster had his back to me once again, bent over the workbench. Silence hung in the air, and I could have almost bought that I had just hallucinated the past event. Were it not for the scattered bits and pieces of plastic and metal scattered about, that is.
"What do you want, child" Caster's voice dripped with venom.
…Please don't tell me he was going to join Shaka as a poison spitter for real…
"Well, um" I continued to stammer as I fully stepped into the room, letting the door close behind me. "N-Nothing really, I suppose. In p-particular, that is. I just… wanted to see how… things were, well… going…"
"Things are going perfectly fine without you interfering" Caster snarled, still not looking my way.
"R-Right" I mutter out, looking around the room in awe. "I can see that now…"
So, this is what he had been working on... The entire workshop had changed. Not only was it bigger in size, but it had far more tools in it too. More weapon and armor racks. Multiple forges. Workbenches scattered all over the place, each holding different things, all in various stages of completion. I saw mounds of raw materials: coal, bronze, stone, wood… you name it, it was in here. In one corner of the place, right next to another door, was a pedestal of some kind, with what looked to be more stone resting atop it, as a giant slab of rock.
…Then I noticed the electronics. Small things, mostly: looking at digital watches, alarm clocks, mobile phones… nothing too big, like a TV or even a laptop computer. Batteries could be seen scattered about some of the workbenches as well. Wires of multiple colors were tangled up in some of these unfinished creations…
"I didn't know the workshop could get you this stuff…" I spoke in a daze, gendering over to the closest workbenches with electronic shit strewn about it.
"It can't" Caster growled back.
"But then, how-"
"How do you think, child?!"
"…Stolen, then?"
Caster didn't respond, which I took as an indication of a correct guess. How did he manage to steal all this stuff though; didn't he say being in spirit form meant he couldn't interact with the physical world? How did he not get caught lugging all this shit back here, looking like… well, like a mad, homeless scientist?
"Why do you even need-" I began to ask.
"WHY DO YOU THINK?! I SHOWED YOU THE DAMN THINGS YESTERDAY! HOW COULD I POSSIBLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE A BETTERY IF I HAVE NEVER SEEN ONE BEFORE?!"
Crack!
I jumped reflexively as another shattering sound rang out across the workshop. Caster had thrown another thing at the wall, shattering it to pieces. The bits were small, and flew fast, but thankfully my back was to it; didn't do me any damage, pelting my backpack and a bit at the back of my legs.
…Shit, that could have been an eye, potentially. Or two…
I stopped talking. I stopped moving. For the next few seconds, all that could be heard was Caster's heavy breathing, and the light sound of the last scattering fragments of whatever it was he had just thrown coming to a final rest.
…Just now, he had nearly called me Icarus, hadn't he? Shit, was I reminding him of his past in some way, down here as a prisoner to Minos…?
It made sense, in a way. Daedalus was now a Heroic Spirit. He was here fighting so he could get his wish granted. The dead don't have wishes, unless they died with some kind of regret.
Heroic Spirits may be powerful, but they must carry some metric fuckton of multiple hells of emotional baggage with them. …Well, most of them, anyways, I'd imagine…
Thinking on it, I felt something inside me. Something I don't think I'd felt in nearly a decade. Almost long enough for me to forget what it was called, apparently. But not quite; I did eventually recall it.
It was guilt. I felt… guilty. From what, exactly, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that, for the first time in nearly a decade, I was feeling guilty.
"…They didn't work, did they" I eventually put out there, voice soft, not able to bring myself to face Caster.
"…No" Caster responded bitterly after a few tense moments. "No, they did not."
