The Pledge

For the sake of this world… for what remains, for what is left… I have no choice… We have no time, no way out… except for this one. I… bid all of you farewell… perhaps for just now, perhaps forever… Holy Grails, grant my wish… Mahapralaya!

Nightingale

All was quiet when she'd finally decided that the four were well and truly stable. She'd already destroyed the poison that the Beast's minions had infected them with, and while none of them had been roused to consciousness yet, she felt that it wasn't going to be long before that would change. Robin had shown signs of rousing, and Avicebron was likely just sleeping at this point, since most of his body had been artificial anyway. It meant that once he was stable, he'd likely rouse when he felt it was necessary. He couldn't move anyway. The Master and Hans were still sleeping with no signs of waking yet, but both were stable.

All in all, several successful operations. She finally let loose a sigh of relief, before heading outside once more to look at the broken moon, and the starry sky, allowing her mind to drift away for a bit, and ponder.

Even in Chaldea, peace was rarely a thing for her. The surprising number of injuries that resulted from just daily life kept her busy, nevermind the times where certain Servants decided to get too rowdy in the simulator while sparing with each other, common offenders being Mordred, Caenis, or almost any Celtic servant. She smiled, fondly recalling the first time Mordred and Caenis had been dragged into her office after they'd beaten each other bloody, and she'd given them both barrels before barring them from the simulator for a few days to recover.

...It really didn't surprise her, as she was staring at the starry sky, that tears began to fall once more… those fond memories, those times gone by. The Servants she'd treated, the friends she had made. The battles they'd fought, and the enemies that they had faced… it was all gone. Gone forever, as far as she knew. Those smiling faces of the children, the happy families reunited, Servant's who's lives had been cut short, who'd been separated from those they had loved… the reunions in Chaldea…

Ozpin's story saddened her… Chaldea was more than just a facility of heroes, fighting battles. It was a community, a home, where Servants could do what they'd never dreamed of before, where they had the chance to do something they'd rarely gotten in their existence on the throne. Chaldea was a place that they could live, where they could learn… Magi said that Servants were unchanging, but that was a lie… Chaldea had left its mark upon every Servant to enter its hallowed halls. Those smiling faces…

"When I'd been called by Glynda to head into the city for a problem case… I hadn't expected to find you out here, crying at the stars," she was snapped out of her reminiscence and her tears by Ozpin, the voice she had become familiar with already. He was carrying a cup of coffee, and a small plastic bag. "Is there a problem?"

"...My memories of what we've lost…" Nightingale started, and Ozpin walked up beside her, and joined her in staring at the stars. "The stories you know, about Chaldea… what are they truly like?"

"That is a question… I suppose to start with, they are just stories. Remnant has always been a world of warriors, so it perhaps no surprise to hear that Chaldea's legend is that of warriors. Tales of legendary heroes, and the battles they've fought… and the battles they've caused." Ozpin explained, and Nightingale sighed.

"...Chaldea was far more than that Ozpin, you'll learn this soon enough," she muttered softly, before looking at the headmaster of Beacon more closely. "What is it that you are doing up this late?"

"Heading out to a police station, something requires my… personal attention. Daughter of a former student got into a bit of trouble, so I wish to see her for myself," Ozpin said with a small chuckle before walking away, leaving Nightingale with her thoughts once more, head tilted towards the stars.

She turned her focus towards the lone star in the sky… Fomalhaut, the star no longer burning as bright as it had been when she'd looked earlier that night… it seemed that miss Gufei had decided not to watch any longer, or perhaps she was sleeping or something… she didn't dwell on the processes that Foreigners went through, but she was well aware that their Heroic Spirit forms were merely fragments of their 'whole' forms… except for that of Voyager, who'd 'died' and become a Heroic Spirit of Earth and the Stars.

"Are you all still out there? Are any of you still out there?" Nightingale asked no one, as she looked towards the stars… for some reason, the idea that something hadn't changed was a comfort, even if that comfort was from a 'Fictional but True' existence of an Outer God.

"You know Gale, trying to ask any of those girls any questions is only going to result in brain damage," the speed with which she'd whipped around at the sound of that voice was astounding, and what she saw as Robin, leaning against the door with his remaining arm held over his waist, still wearing the blue cotton shirt and pants she'd changed him into for treatment.

"You should be resting," she shot at him, but her face told the true story… a smile was gracing it, now that Robin was awake. He raised his remaining arm and rubbed his hair, before walking out to join her in staring at the stars.

"So, Formalhaut huh… that mean Yang is still out there?" Robin asked, and Nightingale closed her eyes.

"Perhaps… I hope it is," Nightingale pondered, and Robin hummed.

"So… I suppose I should thank you for saving our lives then?" Robin asked, and Nightingale opened her eyes, looking towards the Archer, that sad smile gracing his face.

"I saved everyone I could… you were lucky," she said softly as he sighed, raising his arm and rubbing the stump that was the bandaged remains of her arm… he'd lost almost everything to the shoulder, but there was still a bit of arm left.

"It's fine Gale, I'll adapt… by the way, Avicebron is up and is trying to make a Golem already, it's failing," he added, and Nightingale just sighed, because of course, the moment things were peaceful once more, even without a Chaldea to be within… the strange happenings began anew.

Walking towards the doors once more, she pushed them open to find Avicebron, with his one remaining arm, trying to make hand gestures without looking, and she was rather glad that the guards had already left for the moment, since the slightly cracked floor meant that the Golem Maker was making progress.

"Avicebron, stop what you are doing, right now," she ordered, and without delay, his hand froze, before drooping in response. He himself didn't respond, but Robin just chuckled as he walked over to the window to Gudao's room.

"There he is… I suppose it's just good that he's alive yeah?" Robin offered, and Nightingale nodded.

"He will wake soon enough. I have already purged all poisons and other corrupting influences within him," she said, before looking towards Robin. "Except for…"

"I know," Robin muttered as he laid his hand on the window to Gudao's room, a serious expression maring the normally flippant Archer's face. "Not just Olympus, but Avalon's effects?"

"He is more akin to a living Heroic spirit-" Nightingale started before Robin pulled his hand back and snapped his fingers.

"Nah, a closer example would be a faerie, honestly, of all the things he could have ended up, after everything we've encountered, its probably one of the better ones… could have ended up like the Foreigners or, heaven forbid, like Merlin," Robin complained, and Nightingale sighed.

"I don't think the world would have survived the Master acting like that Caster," she half-heartedly complained, looking at Gudao once more… his body was, fundamentally human, his mind had remained mostly unchanged since Camelot, but it was his spirit, his soul, that had been fundamentally altered. It was like EMIYA had said, akin to the King of Knights, he was a Living Heroic Spirit, a faerie Heroic spirit.

"We'll deal with what comes of this," Robin muttered, before walking over to his bed and sitting down on it.

"Then let us begin the physical examination," Nightingale said, and at that moment, fear was in Robin's eyes… maybe he should have just stayed in bed.

?

Deep within a realm that very few knew existed… an imaginary sea, many things that did not exist drifted. Most did nothing, they did not respond nor did they function with stimulus.

Yet floating in this vast sea, drifted a small platform, a painting. It slowly drifted on the sea, its occupant, a girl, with blue skin, she laid, curled up upon a painting of a star night sky. Her dress flared out beneath her. She had been drifting, dreaming, for a very long time.

In her mind, it was the only way to have avoided total insanity, that is what she had told herself when she'd set herself adrift on this imaginary voyage.

Nothing, there was no stimulus in this imaginary sea, nothing to rouse the slumbering artist. Or so it should have been.

Slowly, the unconscious body of this blue-skinned girl opened her mouth… a bubble of air floating out, floating upwards and to the side… otherwise, stir she did not, until there was finally a sound.

This incomprehensible sound, otherwise unheard by all… but it was a stimulus, a call to action. A sea which had laid dormant for thirty-nine thousand years… finally awoke with action.

But Van Gogh had always been a late riser, and she finally stirred, her eyes opened ever so slowly… the girl slowly sitting up as sounds began to bounce around this imaginary sea. Memories flooded back to her as shadows started to appear, heading for her. Detectors.

She stood up both rapidly and slowly, ready before the enemy arrived, yet still slow enough to be slightly delirious and groggy. Her millenia long sleep finally over, she summoned her sunflower brush with but a wave, as the first wave of imaginary monsters landed on her life-raft.

She raised her sunflower, letting a beam of strange light ravage the shadows surrounding her… but she'd clearly forgotten that part of why she had been able to cut loose during that imaginary voyage was that the good Captain kept them quiet. Sound travelled o so far in this imaginary sea.

So while the first wave of foes was turned to painted shreds, the follow up group of enemies started firing lasers at her, and a larger enemy class ship, to borrow the captain's description, was coming right for her. Not great, not great.

Van Gogh leap upwards, going from jumping to swimming moments later as the massive laser from the enemy vessel destroyed her life raft of Starry Nights, she grit her teeth, for that had been her plan to escape… no matter, she would find another.

She dodged out of the way of a high speed assault from another enemy, one she could not see the true form of… oh what she wouldn't give for the Captain, for Yu Yu, or the princess… but they were gone.

Of that she was certain, Van Gogh just… breathed, she would battle her way out of the imaginary sea, this deadly vortex of numbers that had almost claimed them all once… the more she thought about it… the less she realized that even with Van Gogh's vast powers, her affinity for the imaginary numbers sea… She was a single Foreigner against vessels and foes even stranger than she, even stronger than she… the only way that they had escaped before had been cooperation… oh why, oh why, had she decided that the sea imaginary was the right place to hide for so long?

Her decisions of the past did not matter, now was what mattered, she had to fight, that was simple and true. She painted a scaffold below her, landing on it, standing on it, and held up her brush and umbrella as enemies landed on it, those shadowy, incomprehensible forms, in shape rather than the mind crushing incomprehensibility of an Outer Deity thankfully, joining her, and striking at her.

A simple misjudgement had green blood spraying into the imaginary sea, her blood, from a slash wound to her stomach. Thankfully a light one, but she quickly focused her energy on sealing the wound and then obliterating the offending crab, she assumed it was one of those crab-like ones, in a shower of paint and goo… The horn sounded again, one of the large ships was making an assault.

She dove to the side, diving 'deeper' into the sea, to avoid the follow up beam that obliterated her scaffolding, she spun around and slashed across the sea with paint, forming a physical reef that several enemies apparently rammed head first into, given the sound… and then the horn started up again, and she dived deeper as her quick barrier was blasted into oblivion, it seems this one was not inclined to warning shots, simply moving for the kill… and she wasn't certain the she could face it now.

Quickly she looked around the imaginary sea, and spotted an actual, physical 'reef', she rushed towards it, dodging a few glancing blows before landing on the reef, and summoning as much paint as she could on short notice, forming caricatures of others she knew could fight in this imaginary sea… they were nothing like the real deal, merely painted puppets of old friends long gone… but they brought a semblance of comfort, and when princess Miyamoto's katana slashed through an enemy, and the false Yu Yu's instrument revealed the forms of her foes, she felt a little safer… she never even realized until seconds after battle began in earnest against her caricatures and the creatures of imagination that she'd wasted paint on creating a fake of the Master, a useless caricature in combat…

But he was a reassuring symbol, and for some reason, Van Gogh felt he was important, her hunches were rarely long, so she kept the caricature around, ordering her painted puppets to guard it as well as her. Lambada sliced though a mollusk that dared to try and strike him, while little Fran cleaved a starfish in twain… it brought a smile to her face, to remember her friends, her teammates, her crewmates in the imaginary sea…

Ping

In an instant she froze, her eyes going wide… that wasn't the sonar of these creatures, that wasn't the sound they gave off before mercilessly firing their weapons or Noble Phantasm troves… that sound was familiar, so familiar… it was a sound she missed so dearly… it had to be false, Nemo was dead…

There was no way that the Nautilus could be here with her in this imaginary sea.

It was impossible, inconceivable… unthinkable. Nemo, the Captain was gone, her friends were gone, except for Master, the Master was-

Ping

There it was again, and she turned towards her caricature of the Master, of Gudao… it was raising its arm, pointing off into the depths of imagination, of this impossible sea. She followed with her gaze, but was quickly torn away as the battleship class enemy made its horn again, a call for devastation. She grabbed the false Gudao, and swam upwards… she forced her caricatures to follow as fast as they could as the reef was blasted apart by another laser assault… Lambada's leviathans had grabbed Fran, & Hime, but Princess Minamoto was not fast enough, their fake torpedo being blasted into shards of paint once more. She frowned… it hurt to see her go again, but she followed her fake master's arm, its pointing, pushing onward… had it been a fluke?

Ping

Or had she anticipated it? Had Van Gogh anticipated it. The battleship horn went off again, and another laser fired, this one caught Fran, she needed to escape, and as much as she hated it, he had to direct her false Lambada and the false Hime to go a different direction and make some noise to attempt to confuse the battleship, so that it would fire at her catiactures rather than her.

Van Gogh had to discover what was giving her this noise, this ping? What dared to intrude upon this sea in search of something, using the method of her Captain, and her crewmates… the idea that it was the Nautilus was anathema, for Nemo was dead… And yet she had forgotten one simple thing.

The imaginary sea was where anything could happen, many outcomes bad, many outcomes terrible, capable of ripping apart anyone else… but it was still a realm without true impossibility…

The horn sounded off again, and there was another blast… she'd lost Lambada, and then seconds later, or perhaps minutes, Hime was gone as well, not to the massive weapon of the main enemy, to a much smaller ship, only twice the size of Nautilus if she recalled her information correctly.

It was at that moment the enemy battleship was inview, that massive monster slowly turning to face her, she looked at her false master, where it was still pointing… beyond the enemy ship, she would have to go through it… she reluctantly released her false master, and swam upwards, the laser blast from its 'mouth' taking him away from her, she looked directly at this massive foe, her enemy… she wasn't sure what she felt, but she knew anger was a part of her varied emotions. She brandished her umbrella, and her brush, and swam forward, she knew what was required to take down this type of ship, close range assault to strip off its armor, even if she lacked Fran's Plasma Blade, she was well aware that this beast was not invincible… she would manage.

But it was following her movement, as she swam up, it turned to face her, that sound resonated again, and it opened its mouth… she had two seconds to fire…

Why had she expected a miracle?

She was about to close her eyes, but she would be brave, she would face it head on… she was tough, perhaps she could take a single shot and push forward? It was a gamble, but a possible one… but it was a gamble she never had to make.

One second before it fired, a shape appeared behind the behemoth, and rammed it from behind, knocking it forward, its laser completely missed her as Van Gogh's eyes went wide… bubbles of air escaped her as she began breathing rapidly… she could barely see it, but she saw it… and suddenly it pushed forward, the massive creature unable to turn as the tiny, steel tube in comparison kept pushing, forcing it forward as Van Gogh just watched… as it came rapidly into view… rammed right into the enemy's tail, was something she'd believed she would never see again.

The Nautilus had come to rescue her, how?

She could only watch as the hatch opened, and out fired a cable… it wrapped around her with expert precision, and reeled her in… she didn't fight it as she was dragged into the Nautlius, the seal closing behind her and the imaginary rainbow being drained out of the airlock. She breathed actual air for the first time in so long, then there was a popping sound… a familiar popping sound, that loud pop that had nearly killed Yu Yu, forced her to use her Phantasm Trove… had the Nautilus killed the battleship?

Seconds later, she saw the door open, deeper into the Nautilus… the familiar glow of yellow lights, and the one standing in the doorway, with an unfamiliar girl behind him… but she didn't care, she launched herself forward, allowing her painted tears to fall freely, wrapping the little boy in white and a turban with a hug so tight…

And Nemo returned the hug, and spoke the very first worlds she had heard in over thirty nine thousand years…

"I missed you too… Clytie…" the name he spoke, her true Origin… she was Van Gogh, she was Clytie… she was a Foreigner… and they remembered her all the same…

"Van… Gogh…" she spoke, her voice hoarse as Nemo patted her on the back… she wanted to be that which she was…

"Of course, welcome aboard Van Gogh… welcome home," he said quietly, and she just cried even more… she missed his voice, she missed everyone's voices… there was no whispers of madness trying to force her into doing what her component parts did not want to… She was Van Gogh, she remembered, she recalled…

"Let's head up shall we?" the other girl stated, and Van Gogh finally stopped crying, looking ahead at the little girl, her red hair, her sword on her hip, that cute birdie hat, and the strap on horn… this was an enma, she was that judge of the dead… Benienma? Had she?

Nemo helped her stand, and led her by the hand towards the bridge, he various Nemo series all waving as they were passed by, as as the three of them reached the bridge, her had to hold in a snicker as Nemo frowned… there was a rather nice dent on the front of the Nautilus, life every other time he'd used it to ram something, he went over to the controls, and pulled out the radio.

"All hands, prepare for surfacing, I repeat, all hands, prepare to resurface," he ordered, and with the sound of cheers, she looked towards Benienma, the sparrow sitting in a chair on the bridge and smiling as Nemo looked directly at the window, she then watched with Nemo as the tunnel opened, the gate between Real and Imaginary space… and the Nautilus dove forward, heading back to reality.

For the very first time, Clytie Van Gogh felt hope once more… they had found her, she had found them, she wouldn't be bound, she wouldn't be lost… she smiled, as they passed between dimensions, her skin fading from blue to white, color returning to her eyes… she was still clad in that same black dress, but she would change that later… for now.

Nemo Bakery came up behind her, she hadn't even heard them, and she was holding a tray with three cups of coffee… Van Gogh smiled, she took one for herself, and Benienma did the same, and Bakery went up to the captain, who took the cup without even looking away from their dive to reality.

She brought the cup to her mouth, still steaming hot, and took a drink… she was still a stuttering, and shaking mess, she always would be… but as that rich dark liquid passed between her lips… she felt something she hadn't in a long time… a sense of reality, of warmth… it was painfully hot, but she didn't care.

Why should she, when her dream was before her, so close… such was this miracle… however it came to be.

AN: Hello once more everyone... Yes, I have returned. Its been so long, has it not been? I'm happy to see you all once more, and I hope that all of you will bare with me on this story once more. The Pledge continues, and the story gets deeper. And before any of you ask, Nemo was infact dead, the answer for why he is here now lies in who was with him on the Nautilus. But much more will be explained later. I hope to hear from all of you soon, as well as see what the future holds. Wait and Hope.