Trent sat in the plane, eyes half closed as he dozed in his seat, only somewhat aware of Carmilla's astral self flitting about the aircraft. His peace was disturbed by the Assassin communicating with him, the link between them facilitating telepathy. 'Master, what are our plans for when we arrive in Trifas? The other teams will have had time to set up bases and defences and such.'

'Well, first and foremost will be dealing with the other groups' familiars, and then setting up a proper base,' the blond sent back, trying to sound as casual as possible. 'Luckily, my feather familiars will be perfect for taking care of any enemy familiars.'

Carmilla's end was silent for a few moments. 'You're going to start a war between familiars, aren't you?'

'Carmilla, do I seem like the sort of person to start a war? I'm offended.' With that reply, the Canadian shut his eyes the rest of the way and allowed himself to drift further off to sleep.

-x-x-x-

Chapter 2. Trent Starts a Race War and Johan Gets Shot

Johan ducked behind a corner as a decaying fingertip moving at the velocity of a bullet shattered one of the numerous skulls embedded in the walls of the catacomb. 'Shit, shit, SHIT! How did shit go this south this fast?'

'I think it may have had something to do with the way you emerged from the secret passage right in front of him without warning, Mast-er, Johan,' came Jekyll's not-voice; Johan still wasn't used to that. 'That said, are you certain that you don't want me to aid you? I may be weak for a Servant in this form, but a Magus is another story.'

'No, hold off. Unless something's really wrong, this guy is part of the Red faction, same as us. Maybe I can get out of this without more viol—OW! FUCK!'

Another projectile had been fired his way, and based on the shallow gash on his shoulder, he'd narrowly escaped his assailant both metaphorically and literally giving him the finger. It burned like nobody's business, and stung far worse than the time he'd been swarmed by angry bees as a child.

If this was what a glancing blow felt like, Johan had precisely no interest in ever being shot.

Of course, that was when the third finger tore through his forearm, and his vision went white from the pain. 'GAAAAAH! FUCK ASS SHIT!'

'Master! Forgive me, but I must disobey your order. You're unused to using the Magecraft of that body; if this keeps up, you may die.'

Through his pain, Johan managed to transmit 'Don—GRHK—Don't kill him. Please.'

'As you wish, Mast... Johan.'

In the next moment, there was a loud thump. After a few seconds, Jekyll signaled to Johan that it was safe for him to come back around the corner, and he did so, clutching shoulder as he stumbled forward. A tall, burly, brunet man bedecked in a leather jacket was laid out on the ground, no visible injuries on his body. Upon closer inspection, he could make out the three clawlike scars over his right eye that the shades he wore failed to conceal. As Johan had expected, this was unmistakable Kairi Shishigo. But really, who else would use rotting fingers as bullets?

Once he'd finished examining Kairi, he turned to look at the thin, empty vial clutched in Jekyll's hand quickly told Johan how the Servant had managed to subdue the man.

"The concoction I used was a mild one," Jekyll said. "He should wake in about an hour or so without any ill effects."

Johan slumped against the wall, eyes screwed shut in pain. "Thank you, Doctor." He let out a hiss as he slid down the wall. "D-do you think you could do anything about t-this?" He gestured at his arm.

Jekyll gave a soft smile, and walked over to Johan. "Certainly, Johan. Just allow me to inspect the wound…"

-x-x-x-x-x-

After finally having escaped the dread terror of customs and baggage claim, Trent had hurriedly escaped the airport, claiming his rental car with gusto. It was a cheap, clearly refurbished Ford Pinto that had seen more than a few years and crashes, but it would do its duty to him and Carmilla.

He quickly peeled out, dodging around other cars as well as he could while focusing on putting some distance between him and the airport for the sake of allowing his Servant some freedom to act. They ended up off the road, the boot of the car open as the Assassin quickly changed into something she found suitable for the weather. Trent merely sat in the front passenger seat, head resting against the dashboard as he looked down at the mess of feathers in his hands.

There was something odd about trying to get the whole thing to form. He had the whole blueprint in his notes, but while his hands were able to put it together and set the familiar upon the world, there was still something missing. As another pseudo-bird took off through the window, he willed it to go after other familiars in Trifas, with the desire to camouflage both his and Assassin's actions while crippling Semiramis' operations.

Carmilla slid into the driver's seat, clad in a tight gray t-shirt that bore her midriff and belly button and a pair of burgundy capris, a pair of large orange sunglasses hiding her eyes. She adjusted the seat to suit her preferences, futzing a bit with the rearview mirror to get it just right. She didn't even turn to look at her Master as she declared, "I'm driving."

"Aight." Trent, rather than actually fight her on this matter, instead just shrugged and went back to his feather familiar creation. He wouldn't get in the way of the vampiress having fun while she was in the mortal world, and if she wanted to be the one to drive, more power to her.

The trip through the Wallachian countryside was peaceful, only broken by the squawking and crowing of Trent's familiars as he unleashed them upon the unsuspecting world. As their cruise continued, the relative silence was broken by Carmilla.

"Where are you getting all those feathers, because I know you didn't have them in your luggage?" she inquired, her tone somewhere between bland and threatening.

The Canadian didn't answer immediately and instead finished working on his current familiar. After launching it out the window, he replied, "Don't look in the backseat."

"Master, while I can deal with the fact that this car is far from being up to my standards, the backseat better not be full of bird feathers." Carmilla's fingers gripped the wheel to the point of her knuckles turning white as she seethed at her Master.

Fiddling with a feather, Trent remarked, "Well, it won't be full of feathers by the time we get to Trifas."

"So help me, it better not be," the woman sighed with the force of one thousand exasperated partners, unable to truly deal with the Canuck's nonchalance in the face of her restrained anger.

Of course, neither of them knew the level of chaos that they were unknowingly unleashing upon the skies of Trifas.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The burning agony in Johan's shoulder had lessened considerably, thanks to Jekyll's alchemical skills (but not Skill, for whatever reason). Thankfully, the person this body had belonged to (before Johan had been unwittingly and unwillingly tossed into it) had been sensible enough to stock a fair number of useful alchemical reagents, despite it not being his specialty.

The tonic hadn't healed him fully; the ingredients weren't high quality enough for that. But the hole in his shoulder had shrunk to a shallow wound about the width and depth of a penny, which was a marked improvement.

After applying the tonic to his wounds Jekyll had bandaged them, then went back up into the catacombs to retrieve Kairi. Meanwhile, Johan had managed to find some clean clothes so he could change out of the bloodstained ones. Unfortunately, a shower didn't seem to be in the cards for him right now, so he'd just have to settle for a fresh grey shirt and a pair black slacks.

Though he was still in pain, it was much more manageable than before. As he looked over at the couch Jekyll had carefully placed Kairi on, he cupped his hand over his chin. Things really seemed to be looking up…

Which, of course, meant that when the ceiling caved in before Johan, the armor-clad form of Saber of Red landing less than a meter in front of him and immediately putting the tip of her blade to his neck, he wasn't as surprised as he really ought to have been.

Her armor was largely greyish silver, as was her sword, though both had prominent red accents throughout their construction. However, there were two things that immediately stood out to him, other than the sword at his throat, of course. The first were the two massive, unwieldy thigh-plates on either side of her legs. The second was the bull-horned, almost demonic helmet covering her face.

"Oi, oi! Just what the fuck do you think you're doing with my Master, magus?!" the Knight of Treachery snarled through her helmet.

Johan didn't move a muscle as a droplet of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He could feel a pressure on his back and shoulders as the Servant glared at him, as if something was trying to press him down onto the blade. 'This...has turned into a difficult situation.'

'You have a talent for understatement,' Jekyll quipped, the concern in his voice putting paid to the idea that he wasn't seriously worried about what was going on.

Jekyll was no match for Mordred in his base form. As Hyde he could give her a fight, but by the time that transformation was concluded Johan would be long dead. He couldn't even try to use a Command Seal, since there was no way he'd finish the second syllable of an order before he died, and he still had no idea how he was supposed to use the Magecraft of his new body.

So in other words, he had to try and negotiate.

With Mordred.

Joy.

"I'm not doing anything to him," he replied carefully, desperately trying to keep his voice even as he mentally signaled Jekyll to be ready to transform if (and only if) things went sour. "I may have startled him unintentionally and then got shot by him, but he's not hurt. In fact, he should be waking up shortly…" He flicked his gaze over to Kairi, who to his immeasurable relief, seemed to be stirring.

He couldn't see her face past the enchanted helmet on her head, but something in him could tell that Mordred was focusing her glare on him even more intensely. She gestured with the tip of her sword, just nearly missing opening his neck from ear to ear. "Move back, magus. I'll be the judge of my Master's safety." Before Johan had a chance to move, though, she gave him a shove with the butt of her sword.

Thankfully, she hadn't put much force behind it, so instead of being slammed into the wall with enough force to crack the stone and his bones, he merely stumbled back into the wall. As he slumped against the cold stone, he let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. In the next instant, Mordred was at the side of Kairi's couch, berating him for getting captured.

If Johan hadn't been an inch away from losing his head a moment ago, he might've found the way Mordred fussed over her bear of a Master charming. As it was, he was more concerned with getting his heart rate back down to a level not putting him at risk of arrhythmia.

"Oi."

'This fucking war will be the death of me, I swear,' Johan thought, honestly too exhausted to have another panic attack.

"Oi."

"Let us attempt to avoid that outcome, shall we?' Jekyll's attempts to lift his spirits were appreciated, even if they weren't as effective as either of the Master-Servant duo would've liked.

"Oi! Pale bastard, you awake?!" Johan snapped from his musings to see that Kairi was now sitting upright on the couch, staring at him from behind shades with what he assumed (hoped) was a measuring gaze.

"Oh! Sorry." Johan scratched the back of his head. "I was conversing with my Servant."

And just like that, the weight was back. Kairi stood, a shotgun having filled his hand while Johan was still reeling. After taking a few moments to stare at him, weapon trained on his head, he lowered it once more.

"You're not Yggdmillennia. I guess that makes you Berserker of Red's Master? That shifty priest said you were the only other one who hadn't checked in with him." With his words, the pressure in the room receded to a nearly unnoticeable level—but it was still there.

Johan nodded. "I've run into a few...issues, so I haven't had anything approaching time to do so." Johan glanced at Mordred. "I'm guessing you are Saber of Red?"

"Aye, and don't you forget it!" she snapped in response, a mix of anger and pride filling her tone.

"Well," Johan began, gesturing for the duo to take a seat before doing so himself. "We didn't get off to the best start, so I think it would be best for all parties if we start over from the beginning."

At Kairi's cautious nod, Johan spoke. "My name is Johan, and this is my partner, Berserker of Red." He waved a hand to one side as Jekyll materialized beside his chair, giving a gentlemanly bow.

"Oi, oi. Is this some kind of joke?" Mordred cut in. "He doesn't even feel like a Servant, let alone a Berserker.

Johan looked over at Jekyll. 'If you don't mind telling them, I think it could do a lot to build trust between our groups. And, well...I know it seems absurd for me to say this since the man shot me, but Kairi Shishigo is, as far as magi and spellcasters go, a decent man.'

Jekyll gave a light frown. 'I will admit: I have some reservations about offering them such information, even if we have the same information on them due to your...knowledge. That said, I am willing to trust your judgment on this matter, Johan.'

Johan gave a small, bittersweet smile. 'I appreciate that, Doctor.' He then looked back at Kairi and Mordred, both of whom were regarding him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"Sorry about that; Berserker and I just needed to come to a decision." He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. "The reason he doesn't feel like a Servant is due to his identity, and we have decided to share that identity with you as a show of good faith."

Kairi's jaw dropped open, and Mordred let out a wordless noise of surprise even as Jekyll stepped forward.

"I, who have been called forth under the Class of Berserker, am Doctor Henry Jekyll. While in this form, I barely classify as a Servant. However, when that thing takes control…" Jekyll shuddered. "The creature known as Edward Hyde more than qualifies me for the Class I bear. It is an utterly wretched thing, but it will do a far better job protecting my Master than I ever could."

And that was a statement that nobody present had a response for.

-x-x-x-x-x-

When the Pinto crested the final hill between it and Trifas, Trent's eyes widened in shock at the sight.

The sky above the town was filled with flocks of birds, doves and the pseudo-ravens that he called familiars having taken to the air as they tried to kill each other. People had taken shelter indoors, watching the skies in horrified awe as the avians tore each other apart.

Torn and ruined feathers decorated the streets and anything in them, even as unidentifiable bird corpses fell among them like some macabre pillow factory accident.

The Canadian Master raised a hand to his mouth, unable to speak in the face of the race war he'd wrought, birds dying across the whole city due to his machinations. On one hand, should probably have been pleased to have been so successful in his attempt to hinder Semiramis; on the other, the sight was horrific.

Carmilla, took in the view with nothing more than bland stoicism, though she did take a moment to pull her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to look over the tops of them. After a few quiet moments, she remarked, "Are you sure I wasn't a compatibility summon?"