The room was mostly bare. Any furniture within was sturdier than usual and rather simplistic. There were no aesthetic frills, but the colors harkened to luxury. Deep Bordeaux reds mixed with golds to provide the only semblance of design within the otherwise plain bedroom. Even the video intercom system had been reinforced significantly, though it still resembled the mass-produced convenience. It was a sad design necessity from the berserker's earlier days.

Back then, most of his original furniture was destroyed when he was still a new arrival. There was no doubt the berserker caused hell for the furniture department in the past, and he still holds the record for most unintentional damage. Chaldea had watched him carefully, though thankfully he did not appear to go after servants. Compared to the other berserkers controlled by their mad enhancement, he was easily the worst for a time.

If it wasn't for Nero and Caesar being in Chaldea, he believed it would have remained that way.

Slowly, with shaking hands, Caligula held the picture frame as steady as he could. The item rattled as he forced his focus to hold him steady; It helped the picture was a new one with him and Romulus fishing during a singularity. Regardless, it was difficult, and his already cloudy vision dimmed and wavered with hints of red. Swirls of smoky tendrils raked at the side of his dulled vision, but he finally managed to hang the small picture on his wall after almost twenty solid minutes of trying. Only then did his fine motor skills collapse and his vision dimmed to a scarlet red.

Sadly, this is how it always was for Caligula, but he had to wonder if Heracles or Spartacus could relate.

Every servant in Chaldea was aware of how mad enhancement worked to cloud a hero's vision. Lancelot, with his newfound clarity, had helped shed light for the others on what it was like. However, that was just his particular circumstance where he couldn't form any rational thoughts without excruciating agony. His mind worked on instinct and was triggered by certain stimuli that were firmly embedded into his psyche. His case was similar to Caligula's, yet the blue-haired man was envious of Lancelot's previous state.

For the Roman Emperor, he was living an endless nightmare behind the prison bars of his own mind. The madness had control, yet in a sickening twist of fate, he still retained his original thoughts and logic. Trapped behind his crippling instincts, it was a never-ending war against the madness to influence his actions to any extent. He was a lone man pushing against an obstructing mountain, but over time, he grew accustomed to managing his dulled senses and stubborn body.

Though the madness remained in control, he could influence it depending on the situation and stimuli. It was why, though his room remained almost bare, he was thankful for the many hanging pictures of his dear Romans. They soothed the rage enough to give him a fair amount of influence. He could fall asleep comfortably and did not throw rage filled tantrums that destroyed his room anymore. His ability to speak and act was improved if his fellow Romans were there in person; Nero had the strongest influential presence to him.

It was a terrible fate. Struggling to even control his body like it was some rampant beast, he strained against the encroaching darkness and willed himself towards the lone desk. Made of sturdy redwood, it housed his current project that was nearing completion. Months of pain and countless effort and he could deliver the gift he had tried so hard to create. He had an hour before he should get sleep to save magical energy, but that was enough to make one or two decent advancements. It took mental might, as it always did, not to wrench open the gifted drawer's desk forcibly.

Despite this, he still looked forward with a fiery resolve that rivaled his controlling madness.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Fragment 59: Caged Within Myself

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

The next morning, Caesar had swung by to accompany him to breakfast. It had taken the berserker twenty minutes to change into a pair of grey sweatpants and a red shirt. Most of his clothes were simplistic to ease replacement if he ever got a moment, but that didn't stop his fellow emperors from getting him occasional clothes. He appreciated all the help he received from them, especially the daily actions they performed without objection.

He glanced to the emperor beside him, finding it easier to fight back against the encroaching tendrils of madness with his presence. He was able to walk and function rather normally on the outside, but it was different within. Including the man in an oversized burgundy dress shirt and black formal pants beside him, the others had sometimes inquired about his mental state. For the most part, all he ever managed to offer was a grunt, nod, and the best reassuring smile he could force the body to perform.

All this time, he never did tell them what it was like with his broken speech. He grunted, forcing his heavy jaw to grind into motion against its will, "…and… then?"

"After the bomb failed to explode, Nobunaga and Mephistopheles went to check it when- Boom, boom, boom!" Caesar emphasized the explosions with a snicker and gesturing hands. "It went off to cover them with glitter and confetti! Then, Merlin appeared to state this would not be the last time! To witness the open declaration of war between him and the two pranksters… it was worthy of the Colosseum!"

Caligula nodded and grunted with the tiniest smirk, but that was all his articulate mind could make the body perform without excessive effort. It was like wrestling with a lion every time he wanted to even say something most of the time. Thankfully it was easier when there were more of his fellow Romans around; The act never got more manageable with practice.

Caesar nodded back with a smile. "I'm sure Nero, Altera, and Cleopatra will find it just as funny. However, let us hope their prank war does not escalate."

A brief silence fell over them, and though Caesar likely found it comfortable, it was anything but for Caligula.

With every waking moment, his eloquent and intelligent mind was at the mercy of the madness; Talking and listening offered some leverage against it. Unless it came to battle, he could do very little alone since his mad enhancement took charge. He could acknowledge who were his opponents easily, but the crazed bloodlust would sometimes overtake him; He couldn't be left unattended in most circumstances lest the worst possibly happen.

Quickly, but too slow for the caged man, Chaldea had figured out a method.

It was a gaping hole in his pride that he couldn't be left alone outside of his room. Whether it was a simple walk to the deployment room or meeting someone on the other side of Chaldea, he needed a chaperone. As if being chained to his crazed body brimming with the painful tendrils of never-ending insanity wasn't enough, someone wound up leashed to him for such trivial tasks. It was shameful and filled his lucid thoughts with guilt, but what could he do?

This was his life now, ever at the mercy of mad enhancement. He coveted the berserkers who could live a simple life with only certain triggers affecting their otherwise sane actions. How he would love to be able to revitalize his pride and image instead of letting this mad body drive him forward on animalistic instinct. They could walk Chaldea alone and not have to worry about inconveniencing those closest to them. Yet another gallon to charge his well of suffering.

They slowed down as they turned down a corridor in the new wing. Caesar nodded to his friend as they stopped in front of Cleopatra and Caesar's shared room. Caligula urged his stubborn body to smile for his friend, though it didn't. Their renewed relationship had been going along phenomenally despite Caesar's ever self-conscious wish for a new material body; He was even aware he was going to propose to her in private soon. If he could, he would love to make jokes about how he's on Cleopatra's playful leash… if he wasn't on a far less favorable one himself.

Caesar knocked on his door. "Sweetheart? Are you decent?"

"Only for your eyes," she chuckled through it. "Would you mind helping me, dear? This necklace is being a bit stubborn."

With hesitation and conflict filling his lime orbs, Caesar looked to Caligula, who managed a small smile and nodded. He grunted, "…it…alright…"

Though he hesitated a few seconds more, he nodded to him. "I will be quick."

After fishing his keycard out of his pocket, Caesar's door slid open just while Caligula turned away just in case. As the door shut behind him, he braced for the worst. With what little control he had, he forcibly moved his vision around to see the hallway was empty. He was thankful for that.

His dull vision was quickly darkening with no visible comfort nearby. Hints of red speckled his vision like drops of blood while tendrils cracked his peripherals and grew like ruthless vines. Even with Caesar barely meters away through a wall, his sanity was struggling to maintain what little control it had over the temperamental curse. His breathing grew deep and ragged, and he crossed his arms to quell his body's small trembles.

With grit teeth, Caligula waged his usual war. It pained him to say he was accustomed to this, and even more to acknowledge this was almost a guaranteed daily occurrence. At least there was no one present to scare this time, and no servant standing wary guard to further add to his shame and humiliation. He was Caligula, Third Emperor of the Ancient Roman Empire, reduced to nothing but a tormented soul trapped within a roaring beast thanks to the Goddess Diana's supposed love.

"I'm sorry it took me a few moments longer." The voice echoed through him like thunder. Even as his darkening vision and rampant insanity grew, with practiced manipulation, he forced his head to the side erratically. Caesar met his hard gaze easily, but with clear concern in his eyes as the door closed behind him. Already, the tendrils began to retreat, and his struggle lightened. He had won yet another battle in his ongoing war.

"…Its… alright… Caesar." His friend knew it was a lie. He knew it was a lie, but what else could he say to reassure?

Caesar sighed and placed a brotherly hand on his shoulder. "Emperor Caligula… I know we ask fairly often, but the masters' offer…"

They had secretly pondered it ever since it was proven possible with Lancelot, and then again with Kiyohime. It was only towards the end of February that they began asking, probably because he had been so rather manageable compared to both of them. Regardless of their wait, his companions only ever wanted the best for their fellow Roman and friend. After many secret debates, they finally brought the idea to him.

However, they had waited too long and the timing was poor. Then the seventh singularity happened, followed by stockpiling for the inevitable final confrontation restricted further resources. There was no denying the many limitations with his affliction, including a much higher mad enhancement rank. That alone made the cost of completing a proper elixir for him exponentially more expensive, which was not something Chaldea could afford when preparing for humanity's final fight; The twenty phoenix feathers for Phantom's potion was a droplet by comparison, and Caligula's was one of the rare elixirs that actually used quantum pieces for stabilization.

They had apologized for waiting and debating too long, stating they finally decided that it was only proper he, as a Roman Emperor, chose his own fate in the end. He definitely considered it; Those wings of freedom looked ever promising, even if it was only a promised light at the end of his dark tunnel. If he wished for it, they would triple their efforts and rush to obtain all the materials he needed to be free…

…but how much further would that burden them and Chaldea just for his sake?

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

With construction complete, the Roman Theater had opened the past weekend for future use. Though they had agreed that its official name was Domus Aurea II, the vast majority of Chaldea was calling it the Roman Theater anyway; That had been yet another recent hit to his niece's pride. Regardless, it had easily become Chaldea's shining jewel, eclipsing the other luxurious rooms in terms of prestige and vanity.

Even behind the stage's large red curtains, the rose-stained wood and new supplemental rooms leaked of excess glamour. When rooms were abandoned and consolidated after the Fuyuki incident, many of the ones behind the theater were abandoned. The Romans quickly added them to the new auditorium's design, allowing it to become a true theater with enough space to house prop storage, changing rooms, and more. However, the lighting backstage was dimmer as opposed to the brilliance outside.

It was among the many dark, sound-muffling curtains that various props and scenery for Shakespeare's play were being constructed.

With consideration in mind, Shakespeare had entrusted a few volunteered servants to the job because he did not wish to burden the Furniture Department with any excess work. Earlier, the playwright would wander behind the curtain to peep excitedly at some early scenery outlines like building facades, but he was busy now. Caligula could easily hear his extravagant voice from the audience as he ran through a script reading with his chosen cast. It was almost as loud as Nero's proud voice had been when she was giving a tour of the room to Ozymandias, Gilgamesh, and Enkidu when it first opened.

"Another tree completed. How many more does Shakespeare require?" Romulus asked from beside the berserker. Standing with arms crossed and a content smile, the muscular lancer looked impossibly brilliant in his vision. He wore a large scarlet robe with comfortable white pants that he could see with full clarity as opposed to the muted colors his vision usually allowed. As the founder of Rome, he embodied everything about it, casting a significant brightness that held back his madness further than the masters or Caesar.

Ever appreciative of his calming and inspiring presence, Caligula looked down at the clipboard in his hands. There was hardly a struggle to force his speech near Romulus. "Four…"

The founder of Rome laughed, making the berserker subconsciously smile. After patting his friend on the shoulder, Romulus swept his hand over the trees. "He requests a grove, and Roma shall provide a forest!"

It was no lie. Though the Romans lacked a caster among their little group, Romulus was their god send of an answer. His impossibly diverse Imperial Privilege of exceptional rank, greater than his or Nero's own, made it possible for him to do almost anything he pleased. This included suppressing his own divinity's rank. Such humbleness did not escape Caligula even in his maddened state, and he would forever remain awe struck over the generosity and perceived humility of Rome's Great Founder. He had been instrumental in granting Nero's vision of what the theater looked like now.

Now, he was using his founding and constructing abilities to forge props and scenery from delivered pieces of material. With a wave of his hand, a set of discarded boards levitated into the air before disappearing with a flash. In their place was another required item with stable support struts, cut perfectly to resemble a tree's silhouette. Caligula could only imagine what he might have been like if summoned as a caster.

As Caligula looked down the list while Romulus got to work on the final three wooden props, a small voice piped up behind them. "Um… Romulus? Caligula?"

At the adored title, the two looked behind them. On a nearby bench, yet another prop for Shakespeare, sat two casters. Tamamo, dressed in one of her favorite pink strapless dresses, was gently humming to herself as she braided Nursery Rhyme's hair. The little caster was the one who spoke, and she fiddled eagerly with the hem of her white sundress as she stared at them. Nursery Rhyme smiled, "Is it alright with you if we start experimenting with coloring?"

Romulus smiled. "You need not ask, Nursery Rhyme. You're the set designer!"

Tamamo smiled and finished her last braid. "Well, you heard him, boss. It's our turn to step up!"

Caligula watched as Nursery Rhyme cheered, making Tamamo giggle while the smaller caster skipped from the bench to the berserker. It was only day one of stage prop construction, but they were making huge progress already. Caligula presented the caster's checklist to her, who spotted how nearly half of the props were complete. With a happy smile, she curtsied to him and skipped to a nearby tree. Despite seeming young and carefree, Caligula knew better than anyone that what mattered was the true mentality within.

From what he's heard, Nursery Rhyme was very well organized, studious, and creative, but this is the first time he witnessed it personally. She wanted to wait a bit so she could see more of the props to let her creativity flow easier and give her a better visual. Tamamo was going to follow her lead with her own spells, but Nursery Rhyme had been the one entrusted with the play's overall scenery design; Romulus just wanted to play a part in construction. He was glad the founder was nearby so he could witness this with minimal mental interference.

She looked over the many other props and nodded, clearly approving of what has been made. With one outstretched hand, a magical, colorful book appeared and floated before her. As she waved her hand, the book shot out a rainbow glittering light that overpowered the dim lighting. They basked the tree before her, making Romulus stop his crafting to glance in curiosity.

When it gently faded, the tree had been colored in a sunny palette of cartoonish colors. The flat scenery piece resembled a cut out from a fairy tale, but to him, it appeared far more desaturated. It was yet another reminder he couldn't see the true outcome through his lingering madness.

"How fitting~!" Tamamo cooed as she hugged the smaller caster from behind, making them both giggle.

Romulus hummed in thought, making the three turn towards him. An amused smirk rested on his lips as he glanced at the cartoonish looking tree; It even had puffy looking leaves. "I do not wish to be a critic, but won't this clash with the play's theme?"

That's right. Shakespeare, the master playwright known the world over, was making another tragedy. A cartoonish looking prop was hardly going to be fitti- Nursery Rhyme giggled and grinned. "Tragedy, Smagedy! If he wanted dreary looking props, he should have hired that meany Hans! I want colors~!"

"He had to do these without nice stage props in the Globe Theater… He'll get by," Tamamo offhandedly mentioned with a small smirk. "Oh, but Alice… Don't you think it's missing some flare?"

At Tamamo's teasing tone, Nursery Rhyme giggled. "You're right, Auntie Tamamo~!"

The rainbow light projected from her book once more, but with significantly more sparkles. When they faded, the vibrant colors were now perfectly complimented with little apples and a small bluebird sticking its head out of some leaves. Romulus raised his hands in his trademark stance and cheered, "Roma! Even better!"

They laughed at the playwright's unknowing expense. Her point was indisputable in an argument, though he wondered what Shakespeare was going to think of this? Maybe he'd get to see it in his currently half-controlled state. He loved any piece of entertainment and enjoyment he could get in between fighting back those dark tendrils. He'd take what he could get though, and enjoyed watching as Nursery Rhyme and Tamamo quickly began painting the stage props like comedy caricatures.

As he watched, and Romulus began constructing again, he couldn't help but feel… useless. The lancer had invited him to help, but all he was doing was holding this clipboard and show what needed to be finished. Were his companionship and nearly one-sided conversation, as abysmal as they were, really that worth it? It was rare, but sometimes he pondered if they only did it for his sake as a fellow Roman; Most of the time, he just felt like a liability.

…Not that his maddened body ever showed how depressed he often felt within his cage.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Well after dinner, Caligula was hunched over his room's desk, because it always took too long just to sit. The notebook rested open before him, beckoning to be used. Around it were scattered pictures and images that helped hold the line against his ever stubborn body; With these present, there was far more control over his movements. Still, his fine motor controls were almost nonexistent in his maddened state.

That never stopped him from trying for the past several months.

His hand shook with fluctuating strength. It was a miracle he could hold the pencil without crushing it in his gorilla grasp, but it was an act he had done countless times. Eating among his fellow Romans granted significantly improved dexterity, but he did not wish for them to be here. This was something he needed to do himself, no matter how long or difficult the road continually proved. Slowly, he lowered the shaking hand towards the- Crack!

The sane mind of Emperor Caligula cursed the stubborn animal that fought against him. Yet another pencil was destroyed in his grasp, but he put down his anger quickly; He did not want to throw fuel onto a potential spark. Instead, the man looked at the notebook and what had already been written. Though on the outside it appeared the berserker was just glaring at the paper, within his caged mind he was praying to the Roman gods that he did not ruin his work.

Thankfully, there were no new marks that marred the paper. This project of his didn't need to be flawless, but he was a bit of a perfectionist. If he wasn't, he could have finished this months ago. For his pride as a Roman Emperor, and to offset this crazed beast many often saw, he needed this to be exemplary. No matter how long it took, he would achieve it, even if he was so close the last time before he had to revise his writing project to better fit newer ideas.

Setbacks were common. He had lost count how many times he had ripped the paper to shreds or smeared the writing with his brutish hands. It was far less common now that he's refined his approach and understood how his body often reacted. He never lost faith that this project would be completed.

Reaching out with his shaking hand again, he grasped a new pencil. Nero was more than happy to get him plenty, since she knew he used to like writing. Carefully, he moved the pencil towards the notebook. He would have been sweating with how much concentration he was exerting; His body was either a statue or a restless creature, and if he was lucky it was the former.

When the pencil's tip touched the paper, his focus doubled. This was the part he couldn't screw up, and slowly committed to making perfect motions. Agonizingly sluggish but with absolute precision, he managed to make the first letter. The tip lifted to start the next one, which was multiple strokes. He would accomplish that one too. If his body felt restless, he'd lift the writing instrument before the work was tarnished. The task was long and painful, but progress was being made. He would take these victories, because he was so painfully close.

As time ticked away into the quiet night, Caligula grunted with concentration as he continued writing.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ V ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Dark, soundless rest was interrupted by the light caress of a blurred and uneven sound. Waves lapped softly, but it grew louder with every repetition. He thought it was one of his blissful dreams at first, until he felt his stiff body. With his senses dulled and subdued, Caligula fell frustrated over his predicament. It was this muted sensitivity that indicated his madness was in full, undisputed control over his actions and speech.

He never liked it. It was this absolute madness that caused him to yell such horrifying obscenities at his niece during the second singularity; An apology would never be enough to hide the complete shame and guilt he felt for saying such words to Nero. All he could do was hope he would not do something he'd regret.

As his vision finally opened, he sighed mentally with relief. His body had dragged him from his sleep to stand on the beach of Chaldea's resort. He still wore his oversized scarlet gym shorts and shirt set that he wore to sleep, but the body was not going for a swim. It remained at the damp limit where the tallest waves kissed the sand, head angled and staring towards the glistening moon.

"Diana…" the body groaned out quietly. He was going to watch this play again.

Ever since the resort was created, his body would be compelled to come here in the dark early mornings. It was rare, but there was never a set lunar phase. Today, he stared up at a waxing crescent, but the last had been a full moon. He never understood what forged the body forward, but it merely did. Perhaps it was part of his curse manifesting differently from the pure madness he felt in his true life… a madness compelled by the goddess.

"Diana!" it groaned out again before falling onto his knees. He watched through his hazy view as it reached out towards the moon. "Why… Diana!?"

If there was any comfort in the madness, it was that his body subconsciously felt the same. Even through the lunacy, it knew who was responsible for its state. He didn't try to gain control of the body, because it was impossible in this setting; There were not enough nurturing incentives present to try and wrest some control. Instead, he could only watch as the routine continued through its usual cycle. The body repeatedly cried out, both with anger and despair that would last several painful minutes before it strangely returned to slumber.

All Caligula could do was watch and wait for this scene to fade away, where he'd wake up in his room shortly after.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Slowly, his vision was being restored, but he did not stare up at the ceiling.

It had been a blink since his vision first faded, but his eloquent mind was left thunderstruck. His senses were barely muted and the cracks had receded significantly, yet he could not understand why at first. He was standing in Chaldea's windowed hallway, just past the library, presumably as his body left for his room. The windows were pitch black save for scattered snowflakes that painted a gentle winter serenade. There was no feasible person around that would-

Like the beautiful whisper of the aurora borealis, she appeared and left him awestruck. As the woman glided across the hallway, her tresses flowed behind her in mesmerizing waves. Nero had been quite curious about the long standing rumor of an ethereal beauty that occasionally haunted Chaldea in the early mornings... but his niece never did pursue the topic. Was this woman the source of it? Her eyes remained focused to the window before the kimono-clad woman came to a stop. She gazed out the window, appearing more like a goddess in her pristine white outfit with ice blue obi-age.

With a tranquil smile, she stared out the window gently before turning his way. His confusion disappeared upon seeing the familiar Japanese face, but she had never seemed so serene and transcendent. Her hair was also unusually longer than it should be, and her expression was so different from her usual... Was this really Shiki? With a gentle giggle, and her goddess smile, she disappeared into spiritual form, leaving the berserker's mind confused in his statue of a body. He would have pondered it further, had he not realized he still had unusual influence over his maddene-

"Darling! That was it! I think Miss Ryougi is the ghost!" "I really don't think she was the ghost, but she's welcome haunt my dreams anyda-"

At the sound of someone coming out of spirit form, Caligula slowly turned around as a chorus of loud slaps echoed through the hallway. "Ow! That's abuse against your spouse!"

"You're the one who was thinking of cheating on me again!" Artemis shrieked. The battle-clad goddess slapped the flailing little bear in her other hand as Caligula stared through his minimal haze. Now it all made sense why he had control: A Goddess of the Moon had been secretly present.

There was a difference between Diana and Artemis, but she still exuded a soothing aura that eased his madness just by being nearby, regardless of her tangibility. She did not love him, and did not appear much like Diana, but was still a presence of respite from his madness. He had learned this as his body subconsciously went to meet her upon learning of her arrival.

That was one moment he did not fight his body, for he too wanted to see the newly summoned servant. Upon hearing a moon goddess had arrived, his hopes grew. The shackles of his fate could be torn asunder if it was Diana. For all he's done for her in terms of worship, she would surely free him! Caligula, who had made a home beside Lake Nemi, called Diana's Mirror back then, would be released from the mistaken protection and madness by the goddess herself!

It was disheartening and soul crushing to learn she was not Diana, the goddess he worshiped so willingly… who wound up bestowing this blessing. It was even worse to know Artemis had no control over this madness; She was but another lovestruck goddess from a different pantheon, except her abuse only targeted her companion in his pitiful form. Though freedom from his chains would not come that day, he remained optimistic for the future and more than cordial to the counterpart goddess.

Orion groaned. "Her hair was different! Did she buy hair extensions or something?"

"I wouldn't know that... Oh, let's ask Caligula about all this!" The ever bubbly Artemis waved to the berserker as Orion groaned in her other hand. "Hi Caligula! Do you think she's the source of the ghost rumors? I'm just glad someone else saw it too!"

"Hey, hey! Don't I count for anything!?" Orion blurted out, and was answered by a swift kiss and hug by the giggling goddess. He groaned, "…You switch emotions way too fast."

"Oh, shush~! We'll be able to tell Drake something now! She might be a little relieved!" Artemis cheered, though Caligula grunted in confusion.

"…Why… her…?"

Orion snickered while Artemis looked around quickly. With a small smile, she floated over to the berserker, making her soothing presence intoxicatingly radiant to the imprisoned mind; He felt like he was surrounded by his fellow Romans. She whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but Drake is afraid of ghosts!"

"He's a berserker. He's not likely going to tell anyone with that mad enhancement crippling his social skil-" Artemis smacked him again.

"Orion! You're being insensitive to poor Caligula!" the Greek Goddess of the Moon chastised with a serious frown. He hung his head in actual shame and mouthed a silent apology, but Caligula wasn't angry. As harsh as it was to say, it was the truth. Her sympathetic eyes turned back to the berserker. "I really am sorry, Caligula. If I knew of a way to ease it, I would."

By her genuine sweetness and sympathy alone, Caligula would have been more than content to worship this moon goddess instead. He nodded, "Thank… you… but… it… can't… be… helped…"

"If you ever need anything… I'm willing to help however I can, and I'm still helping gather extra beast materials with Altera…" she smiled sadly. After managing a tiny smile on his stone lips, he grunted and nodded back. "…I hope you have a pleasant rest, Caligula. Please be strong."

This time, his nod was filled with resolution. "I… will… Thank… You…"

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

The remainder of the night and following morning had passed without extra incidents. Time seemed to past by quicker today, but that wasn't saying much considering every moment was a struggle for control. At least at the training grounds amid the waning blizzard he was not as worried. Here his maddened body could act upon its instincts without much cause for concern. It was a welcome break for the mind that didn't need to offer any control to the body.

Just on its instincts and heightened senses, the body was handling its opponent perfectly.

Even if the tendrils of insanity lingered only at the edge of his vision, he did not exert any control. He let the body react, switching between offense and defense against his monstrous opponent. Like a golden blur, the Roman berserker dodged strike after strike from his class kin. While not as fast as the Greek legend, this was only a spar, and his opponent held back enough not to cause any harm. Though his body was actively trying to fight, Heracles too was easily dodging and maneuvering.

Both unarmed, the Greek berserker thrust a blurry kick forward, but Caligula ducked beneath it. Sliding across the icy fields, plowing snow into the air like a makeshift screen, the Roman tucked forward. After rolling briefly, his legs shot upward like a refined piston, hoping to land a kangaroo kick on the giant. Swift as ever, and just as instinctively driven, Heracles jumped, spun, and threw a punch towards the ground. Caligula's body had barely rolled away from that one, but managed a quick jab at his opponent's arm which didn't even cause him to flinch.

Nearby, the Roman source of his limited mental relief sparred with his opponent; They were a distance away to avoid complications. Hector was on the defensive, as he always loved to be, while Romulus practiced new combos his niece had curiously thought of the previous night. Even further away, the silhouettes of Ushiwakamaru and Benkei danced at the side of the mountain in their own little spar. Just the fact he was able to make these occasional glimpses spoke loudly of his maddened state.

His body ducked right beneath Heracles' kick, but swiftly grabbed his leg from beneath. In a swift maneuver, before the berserker could properly react, Caligula hurled him with the ease one would skip a rock across a lake. The Greek berserker's back slammed against the snowy battlefield, sending a plume of white into the air to mark his first impact. He righted himself before he hit the ground again, skidding on two muscular legs with one arm grazing the ground for balance.

Heracles' mouth twitched upward with a small smirk. He grunted and nodded while the battle-clad Roman lancer applauded and cheered. "An excellent throw, my child!"

Caligula grunted in response, though his mind was also clapping for his body's actions. By no means should Caligula have been summoned as a heroic spirit since his exploits were subpar compared to most. Though it made him a mad beast, the insanity had its merits. His parameters, which were far from a joke, let him go blow to blow with the mighty Heracles on fairly even ground. Though he still had the advantage, the uninfluenced Caligula would have been paste on the first few strikes.

It was no wonder mages of real grail wars would be interested in a mad enhancement berserker.

As Heracles and Caligula continued their spar, he still shot occasional glances to Romulus. The lancer had leapt back to the edge of the plateau while Hector scratched his head with one arm. It was still a little difficult to comprehend this laid back, older man was the brave Hector who defended Troy for so long. The chestnut-haired lancer sighed, "Are you sure…? This sounds like a bad idea…"

"I am certain! Strike with all your might so I may test my technique to protect Roma!" Romulus declared adamantly with a confident smirk.

"Uh… Alright?" After a quick glance to Caligula, Hector shrugged, and still looked unconvinced, but took up a stance Caligula recognized.

It was not the Javelin stance that would devastate the land, and hopefully his opponent, but a defensive prep. Hector stood with feet squared calmly while looking over his left shoulder at Romulus. His spear rested across his chest, coiled like a cobra as the only source of tension in his form. He was relaxed, and his eyes were the hallmark tranquility many recognized from him. Looks were very deceiving, since this was man was a legendary defender.

Romulus burst into action, startling Hector by charging straight at his guard. With newfound, steel glare, Hector's golden spear shimmered with light. He thrust it forward with a grunt, piercing the sound barrier with ease. The shockwave tore through the snowy fields, sending a visible barrier away from Hector, but it was just the start. Barely a moment behind, the real attack burst forward from the lance.

A conical surge of golden prana surged forward from the lance. This was not a noble phantasm, but one of the warrior's techniques formed around the tales of smashing apart Greek waves beneath Troy's ramparts. It was his denial method for defeating a tough opponent's front assault, and left no room for escape. Caligula's concern was rising, but Romulus' bold laughter rose. The berserkers' spar paused to watch the outcome as the Roman Founder thrust himself against the coming storm.

Surrounding the prana forefront of conical energy, lacerating winds followed close behind like a tidal wave. Still, Romulus did not choose to use Moles Necessrie like Caligula thought; His concern grew rapidly. Instead, Romulus thrust his red spear forward head on. He blurred for an instant as the golden strike engulfed him. Caligula's anxiety skyrocketed, but it wasn't for his dear friend; The tendrils were writhing and spreading as his vision flashed dangerously.

The shockwave attack, like a plow of damnation, surged over the edge of the plateau and quickly dissipated. Hector, clearly dumbstruck and relieved, chuckled nervously as Romulus remained standing with his spear before him. He was bleeding in several places, but the cuts were far from debilitating. The superficial wounds meant nothing to the Roman lancer who planted his weapon into the ground and bellowed heartily into the fading snowstorm.

"Sheesh… I thought I injured you there…" Hector groaned with a sheepish grin. He scratched his head and place one hand on his hip. "Playing with that skill of yours?"

Romulus nodded with a proud grin. "I never thought to use Imperial Priviledge in that manner until Nero brought it up last night! I have now proven an imposing wall can be scaled with the might of Roma! The timing was a bit off, but with pract- My child!"

It was no use. As much as he yelled and attempted to gain control over his body, it was useless; It refused to listen. All Caligula could do, trapped from within, was stare through the angry, cracked, sanguine haze at Hector's stunned expression. Between them, his body was grappling for control over the spear that had dealt Romulus some wounds. It didn't matter what kind of wounds, only that they made him bleed.

His madness was overflowing at the sight. If being in his fellow Roman's presence soothed his soul, it also ran with the risk of igniting an even greater inferno. Growling in hatred, Caligula's body stopped fighting for the spear and changed tactics. Hector dodged a quick jab to his head and yelled, "Hey! Caligula, cut it out-"

The second jab connected, sending Hector flying backwards and skidding across the ground. His spear tumbled to a halt beside him, and the lancer reached for it quickly out of mounting stress. There was no need, since Caligula could not continue the chase. Seized from behind by Heracles, the Greek legend had looped his arms underneath his own to pin him. Still, with matching strengths, it was a struggle to hold a position as the flailing berserker tried to break free.

"My child! Calm yourself!" Romulus' voice boomed as he quickly landed before him. He spread his arms out, encompassing as much of his bloodlust vision as he could; He did, and the effect was already working as his auto-healing quickly masked the superficial wounds. "Emperor Caligula! This is the fault of I, and no one else. It should not have been attempted in your presence, but I was absorbed in the moment and possibility of a new height for Roma… Please calm yourself, for I am alright! Roma itself is eternal!"

Slowly his madness subsided. The red haze was lifting, only to be replaced by his mounting regret. Basking in the closer, warm, and inspiring presence of the founder again, he stopped his struggling and grunted. Heracles released Caligula as Ushiwakamaru and Benkei shot beside Hector to help him to his feet. Thanks to Romulus' proximity, his mad enhancement held little control over him. It allowed the blue-haired man to fall to his knees with shame.

"…Sorry… Sorry…!" he grunted out as he cursed himself from within. It had been two months since his last episode, but it had been broken today; Thank the gods no one ever mentioned any of his outbreaks for his sake. Chaldea was very careful about his peculiar circumstances, but this time Romulus had made an error… but he would never fault the founder for this.

"…Sorry…!" he grunted again as Hector approached with Benkei and Ushiwakamaru. The Trojan lancer merely shrugged, but rubbed his jaw to wipe away a smear of blood.

"It was my fault for going through with it too… We shouldn't have done something like that in front of you." The berserker body would instinctively go after any target that wounded a fellow Roman, regardless of circumstance. Maybe they thought he was too caught up, or that the great Founder of Rome would make it through unscathed. If only he hadn't mistimed his attempt, but what's done was done. In the end, he was only reminded once again he was at the mercy of this goddess forsaken mad enhancement.

All he could do was mumble on the ground as Romulus knelt before him to rub his shoulder reassuringly. "…I'm… sorry…"

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

The salon was quite that afternoon. Many servants were deployed to a higher risk singularity, but there was a greater chance of yielding rare supplies of all kinds. Even some of Marie's staff had gone, leaving the salon mostly vacant saved for the regret-filled berserker and two other companions. They rested at a usually taken set of ottomans, but two of Vlad's companions were deployed and the last was working. The man in his favorite luxurious black robe valued their company, but not as much as he appreciated hers after such a trying moment.

Nero had been repeating herself for most of the past hour, but that was alright. It was calming. "It's not your fault, Uncle! He wouldn't be the glorious defender of Troy if he couldn't take a punch!"

From a berserker, it was more than just a simple punch, but he knew his niece was right. Spending time with her in the salon was easing much of his lasting guilt and shame; Nero always had that ability to do that. Romulus had brought him to her quickly after their training session, after a brief change into a pair of red sweatpants and shirt. It was a much more comfortable set to wear considering his niece's preferred style of spending time together.

Armor would have been rougher on her beautiful hair when she rested it in his lap. Sprawled out across two ottomans, the haughty empress rested comfortably with hands folded in her lap atop her vibrant spaghetti-strapped sundress. She looked up at him with sympathetic, loving eyes as he gazed into her own. They put him at such ease to see her so stunning and matured. Granted, she still was the bubbly, haughty blonde he told stories to.

She was just far too big to sit on his lap these days, and he still hadn't forgiven himself for saying such lecherous words to her. At least he was apologizing for something more innocent by comparison this time, even if he was hardly a saint in his past life. "…I'm… still…"

"I know… and it's alright. You were a wise and beautiful Roman Emperor before the goddess…" Nero started, but trailed off with a click of her tongue. "…How dare she do that to you…"

"The divines are rather unpredictable beings… I'd wager we got lucky thus far with our Chaldean arrivals," Vlad added quietly. "They're crazy, but in a preferable way."

"…Crazy…" Caligula grunted with a frown. "…I… wish… mine… wasn't…"

"It's just the circumstances of your mad enhancement. I don't much like mine either," Vlad responded with a sympathetic stare. Though he envied the other berserker's circumstances, he also felt bad for the prince. Having your most hated depiction forced upon you was something no one should deal with, yet Vlad was dealing with just that with elegant ease. From what Caligula heard, Vlad's own sanity had also been but a brief façade back when he was first summoned and suffering from inexhaustible blood cravings.

He was so different from what little bits he's heard, but Caligula was secretly inspired. Vlad had access to a memorial essence that could shift his class, change his saint graph, and end his suffering within a week after his arrival… yet he chose to remain a berserker. He was more powerful in this form and still had access to many of his more refined abilities. Nero had talked his ear off one day about how inspiring and beautiful it was, but he wondered if the prince too yearned for the day he could be completely free and normal.

"We'll fix it, I promise!" Nero smiled up at him, and even in his dulled vision, he could see his little niece grinning at one of his stories. "You won't have to wait much longer! We'll free you once and for all like Lancelot and Kiyohime!"

"…Thank… You…" he grunted. He wasn't sure how long they discussed it, but it was long enough. He didn't want to drag the conversation to just him, when he had interrupted theirs. "…We… talk… something… else…"

Nero smiled up at him. "Umu~! If it makes you feel better, of course! But what should we… Oh! I haven't told you about my future stardom plans!"

Across from them, Vlad looked up from his knitting project momentarily to gauge the size of the scarf while chuckling. "You won't concede defeat to my niece, Nero?"

"UMU~! For I have my own wonderful uncle to please too!" she cheered happily, making both berserkers chuckle. "My idol rival won't defeat me so easily! I am the Empress of Roses! I even figured out the problem that's been holding me back: I need a producer, like Robin is to Liz!"

That wasn't quite correct, but though he had some speech control at the moment, he didn't have the heart to tell her. He would love to see his niece succeed, though her voice and lack of tonal recognition were honestly the real problems. He'd praise her and pamper her niece rightfully, but the singing was a bit too far of a stretch. Mad enhancement or not, he could still hear how off-key she was… and how she never bothered to fix that. Still, her enthusiasm and optimism knew no bounds.

"I wanted it to be you, Uncle Caligula! …But you praise me and nurture me so much… I'm sorry to say, but it needs to be like Robin at first. Someone who's not afraid to be critical of me!" Nero declared. She turned to Vlad, making Caligula look as the other berserker raised his project momentarily. It was a vibrant pink with white accents, with the addition of a tiny caricature depicting her dragon rival. "You can support me in other ways though, Uncle!"

He smiled. "…Always… Nero…"

Vlad laughed. "If that's the case, why not get one of your other rivals?"

With a gasp of surprise, Nero shot up into a straight sitting position. The berserkers glanced to each other curiously as his niece quickly began bouncing in her seat. "Prince Vlad! You're a great friend! Thank you for the idea even if you're beautifully bias to my idol rival!"

"…Idea… Who…?" Caligula grunted simply. He knew he got the message across fine with little effort.

"My producer needs to be critical of me yet supportive! Umu~! That means I must go ask the fox caster! We share my Praetor, so she'll surely help!" Nero beamed, evidently pleased with herself.

Caligula and Vlad looked at each other, clearly questioning the validity of that idea.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Incensed further by yesterday afternoon's talk, Caligula spent most of the day in his room, hunched over the desk in his usual sleeping clothes. He had taken long enough on his little project, and endeavored to finish it as soon as possible. To his pleasant surprise, he was managing just that. Little by little, he had inched his way towards the end of his writing task. There were a few broken pencils to show for it over the past day, but he was content even as his paranoia grew.

These were the last few words. If he screwed up now, he would have to start over and continue his fight with his mad enhancement. Hopefully, the last few strokes would hold considering what they were. He hoped this was the case, but all he could do was hold focus and silently pray for his success. It was a long and arduous task, but Romans were ambitious by nature, so he looked forward to his inevitable conquest.

There was a knocking on his door, stunning him momentarily. "…Yes…?"

"Caligula, I understand your desire to be left alone after yesterday, but are you still having dinner with all of us this evening?" The muffled voice was definitely Caesar.

"…Yes… I… come…" he grunted out.

"Cleopatra and I shall come pick you up at the usual time, then. Have a good afternoon, whatever you may be doing." He walked away, but the loss of focus was enough. Mounting anxiety tripled when the pencil shattered in his hand, but it didn't mar anything on the paper before him.

Sighing in relief, he reached for another one and began to write. He was so close to finishing, and the excitement was getting to him. The end was in sight, and if he was lucky, it would even be complete before dinner tonight; He could keep his train of focus secure and not have to go through the painstaking process of putting away all the pictures and notebook.

As the tip of the new pencil rested against the paper, his concentration increased exponentially to match his spiking hopes.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ X ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

It was another ordinary weekday dinner at Salon de Marie with little fanfare. Robots were hovering around, delivering appetizers and the choice wines. The French Queen ran by chasing her little sphinx kitten who apparently found something curious to play with. Mozart's piano music was momentarily suffocated by the loud laughter of Li and Jing Ke who were enjoying early drinks at the bar. By all accounts, there was nothing special about the evening as the toga-wearing Caligula scooched further into the booth to let his niece and Altera sit.

"Good evening, fellow Romans!" Nero cheered, making Altera giggle. A robot hovered over to deliver the baked garlic bread rolls while the tanned saber eyed her adoptive sister's hair. She gently reached out and adjusted the blonde's wreathe to sit perfectly. "Ah! Thank you, Altera!"

"Gladly, Nero," she replied with a smile. As greetings were exchanged, she folded her hands into her white muumuu, turned to him first, and nodded politely.

"…Did you… destroy any… bad civilization…?" He grunted out with relative ease. Too bad his speech wasn't perfect, but at least it required little effort.

Altera giggled again. "There were more than enough phantasmal beasts to destroy. I got a few extra chaos talons that Paracelsus has been asking for."

He nodded with a smile as she turned to greet Romulus. Meals with his fellow Romans were usually his favorite moments of the day, simply because of how much control over his body he was granted. Being in close proximity with his niece, Romulus, and Caesar alone limited those aggravating tendrils of madness to his peripherals. The dull haze that blanketed his vision would be slightly alleviated, allowing him to see colors better. Even the slightly reddish tint would be gone, allowing him to enjoy the wonderfully smelling food.

It was exclusively the Romans at their corner booth tonight. Usually they would share it with their closest allies, the Egyptians, but they were occupying another booth to enjoy supper with Enkidu and Gilgamesh. Even Cleopatra was absent, but that suited Caesar just fine; As enamored as they were with each other, their independence was hardly compromised. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so the proverb says.

Turning to Romulus as he continued boasting of his and Altera's exploits against the beasts, he caught Caesar staring curiously once more between them. Caligula kept one hand lightly on top of the notebook he had decided to bring this evening. The large saber and his lover had questioned him about it, to which he gladly responded it was for his compatriots to read for dinner. They had left it at that since it was his surprise, but it wasn't the entire truth.

"Then Xuanzang approached the false grail which had opened a portal to the reverse side. Before she could break it, a gazer appeared from the portal and fired a beam at her, but she dodged! It missed and destroyed the false grail for Roma!" Romulus recounted loudly, making Nero laugh happily. His voice was more than loud enough for several nearby tables to openly enjoy the story too, since many were also laughing.

"A gazer?" "It's one of those eyeball monsters pictured in Memorial Hall." "I guess you can say it…" "Please don't." "…didn't see it coming!" "You son of a..."

After Caesar was done groaning at Chaldea's resident pun heathen, Nero curiously peered over her uncle's lap at the closed notebook. Upon catching her curious gaze, he knew there would be no further waiting. "Uncle, why did you bring a notebook? Oh! Do you wish to tell a story!?"

Altera and Romulus turned to Caligula in curiosity as Caesar offered, "If it's too much effort for you, we could read it for you. However, Nero always heralded you as quite the stor-"

He stunned them by raising the notebook and offering it to Caesar. Though he was in control, it would take until dinner was served for him to recite the words; Caesar, the great orator, would be a perfect spokesperson. Any of his fellow Romans would be, but he, without a doubt, was ideal. "…Read please…"

After looking around the table in slight hesitation, the large saber reached for the notebook. Plucking it gently from his hands, he opened it to find many loose tears from previously discarded pages. Sitting at the top after the cover was Caligula's story, written in rather legible print. After a precursory glance at the message, Caesar's eyes widened and looked to him in pure astonishment. "Caligula… you wrote this in secret?"

"I did… Caesar…" he nodded quietly. Romulus leaned back in his seat to try and read the words, but Caesar held it before him like a script. Clearing his throat, and giving him one last glance of surprised hesitation, he began to read.

To my dearest friends,

It is by fate's cruel yet benevolent hand I have been allotted this condition. Cursed with Diana's madness, my pride was castrated before our glorious people. I was no saint even before my hands dripped with blood and greed. My fall was swift, and I do not blame my assassin for his action. It may have been Fortuna's grace that my dear niece Nero did not witness me at my worst.

It is difficult to see. The world is duller than it ever has been. Sounds are different from what I remembered. Every day, I struggle against the mad enhancement to maintain any semblance of control. This gift from Diana has caused me untold grief, accompanied by endless shame for what inconveniences and embarrassments it delivers to my dear friends. I am an Emperor of Rome, yet at times I appear only but a mad dog foaming at the mouth.

"Uncle…" Pausing briefly, Caesar looked to the solemn Caligula who glanced to his niece. Nero's smile had already vanished, and Altera was soothingly rubbing her shoulder. He looked to Romulus' sympathetic stare then back to Caesar, before nodding to continue.

The large saber quickly obliged. "I will do so. You have really outdone yourself here..."

This madness is a terrible fate, but it is also the one that delivered me to you. Were it not for my insanity, no doubt I would not have been worthy for the Throne of Heroes. I would not be here sitting among great fellow Romans, and our honored friend, lady Altera. There would only be my absence from these beautiful memories worthy of the muses' lips. Though it is a heavy weight to bear, it is made easier by companionship beyond compare.

I understand what Vlad III of Wallachia felt when he decided to disregard his class shift. This madness was both a blessing and a curse. I have thus decided to bear this burden, for even if my control is limited, it has granted me the might to fight beside all of you. If it can help defend humanity, I will bare this burden that much longer. Insanity would be preferable to letting my dear allies fall where I could have done something.

I only plead you understand, and that though I suffer, I will gladly walk this hell to help fight this noble cause. Do not rush. I will endure for however long it takes, if only so one day I may finally be given my wish when Chaldea no longer requires my maddened strength.

Great Founder Romulus, Grand Orator Caesar,
Honored Friend Altera, and my Beautiful Niece Nero,
Thank you for always being there for me.

Nero was an absolute sobbing mess as she threw herself at him. "UNCLE!"

She gripped onto him like a life raft, rubbing her teary eyes into his own toga as he carefully wrapped his arms around her. Altera smiled warmly at him, no doubt appreciating her own little mentions. Caesar gently put the notebook down on the booth's seat, letting out a slow exhale to calm his own surprise and emotions. Even Romulus was emitting more grand radiance than usual, coupled with a proud smile.

The lancer nodded slowly to the berserker while a few nearby tables paused their conversations to stare. "My child… Thank you for speaking your mind."

"You're welcome…" he managed to say out evenly. He rubbed his niece's back soothingly, surprised at the growing control he was exhibiting. Maybe it was the emotion of the moment, or Romulus' growing splendor, but color was briefly returning. The mad enhancement was granting the briefest of weaknesses, and he would seize it; Caligula was no saint, and greed was but one reason. He would still take what he could get, and so with his mental might, he forced through the gap in the clouds.

"Y-You're s-still you!" Nero babbled as she soaked his toga. He could feel it. The dampness of his toga and the warmth of his niece's hold. It was no longer a muted acknowledgement, but a true sensation of touch. "My uncle! T-To think you f-f-felt like that! B-Beautiful!"

"I'll make sure we get more than enough materials!" Altera added with a hopeful smile; That memorial essence sure did wonders for her emotional openness. Their voices… it sounded like crystal chimes on a spring day. "Rome's personal celebration for defeating Solomon will be removing your mad enhancement so you can be free!"

"Spoken like a true child of Rome!" Romulus bellowed happily. The laughter was so much more vibrant than he ever remembered. Even the tendrils were barely a ghost at the fringes of his sight. "A celebration indeed!"

"With your consent, I would like to ask Roman to make copies," Caesar added as he raised the notebook with a proud smile. "I can't imagine what you've been through to write this so pristinely as a berserker, but I believe the Empress of Roses would love to have her own copy hanging in her room. Am I mistaken?"

Instead of answering in agreement, Nero simply sobbed harder, making the rest of their table chuckle. They paused prematurely when they realized his own chuckle was different. The gravely tone and hoarse sound had vanished. He smiled, and his eyes had never appeared so soft despite their demon-like visage.

While gently rocking his crying niece, He quietly enjoyed his brief clarity. As his friends discussed possible plans for the future event and his current state, they were interrupted by a master's approach. Gudao appeared with concern in his eyes as he glanced towards Nero, who was only just calming down. His hands relaxed slightly at the sides of his master's uniform, but he still looked confused.

"Is everything alright here? I heard laughing, but Nero's also crying rather loudly. I hope nothing bad happened."

Caligula looked to Gudao and smiled brightly, visibly staggering the master. He nodded firmly, without doubt, and smiled as he gently rocked his weeping, yet smiling, niece. "Yes, Gudao. Everything is fine. I'm sorry if I caused a disturbance this evening, but I promise you, everything will be alright."

"Uh… Wow- Wait. Your speaking is…!" To Gudao's surprise, his three companions laughed at the master, who was obviously a fish out of water. Then again, this was a rare moment he didn't even understand himself. All that mattered was the music in his ears that manifested as his voice he had long since forgotten.

Whatever the case may be, he had enjoyed this rare, fading moment. "I don't need to understand either... I have enjoyed it."

Nero hiccupped in her sobbing, making Caligula turn his smile to her once more. Gently, he rocked her, like he had done so many times before. Though his vision was crystal clear, he saw her as the little bundle of energy again, sobbing from one of his sadder tales. With soothing motions, he rubbed her back, careful not to ruin her toga while she clung to his own warmly amid her fading tears. Caligula smiled down at his niece, savoring this moment dearly as the maddened tendrils began to crack his vision again. The world steadily became dimmer, the sounds muted, and his movements more sluggish.

Despite this, he still looked forward with a fiery resolve that rivaled his controlling madness.