Chapter 8: The Gang Sabotages A Postpartum Abortion

Gordes stood in the middle of a clearing in the forest, Rider of Black standing off to the side due to a Command Seal-enforced order from his Master, and a homunculus lying against a rock. Though there were a multitude of crows and ravens of all sizes in the trees, the Musik man assumed it was simply Blackmore watching from a distance.

As he advanced on the homunculus, his arms transfigured into metal, his stature (horizontal though it may have been) allowing him to loom over the boy. His face was twisted in anger, his cheeks splotchy and reddened, his mouth pulled into an outraged grimace. Despite his hands being held at the ready to strike, his fingers were curling and uncurling, almost as if he was imagining the homunculus's neck in them. "You, you! This is all your fault, you defective thing! If it weren't for you, Darnic wouldn't be breathing down my neck, and our plans for the War wouldn't be behind schedule!"

While the homunculus said nothing, Rider of Black's nose crinkled in distaste as he was forced to watch.

Then, as the alchemist drew back his fist above the homunculus, the various birds in the trees broke out cackling, their wings waving in the air as they chorused. As the group looked around at the sudden cacophony, a pair of large red eyes skulked toward them, and the cacophony broke as quickly as it started. It was replaced by a low, rhythmic croaking, that they soon identified as laughing. As the red orbs locked on to Gordes, the laughter gave way to a low rumble which soon became clear to the onlookers.

"I'm a member of the Midnight Crew! I'm a night owl, and a wise bird too! Home with the milk in the morning, singing the same old song! Rise with the moon, head to bed with the sun, early to bed and you'll miss all the fun! Bring your strife and trouble, it'll never trouble you, that's what it means to be a member of the Midnight Crew!"

As the figure went through that whole chorus, it slipped into a strange dancing lope, its arms waving as if directing, and the birds in the directions it pointed to reacting with loud squawks and screeches. As it stepped into the clearing proper, the birds all took flight, circling around it at the being's direction.

The light of the moon and stars made the figure's appearance all the more stark as he stood before them. It was a masculine form, clad in a button up shirt and slacks, the sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to where its upper arms would be. However, where it should have had visible skin, sleek black feathers covered its flesh, except for its mouth. Where its mouth should have been, was a large black beak, cruelly curved, set beneath the eyes like crimson lamps.

Its gaze locked onto Gordes and its head quirked to the side, the thing making something of a croaking sound as it loomed. The blond man coughed a few times and cleared his throat as he tried to puff himself back up, despite the fact that his face had rapidly lost colour. The man bobbed his head a bit as he adjusted his collar, and wheezed, "Blackmore, what exactly are you trying to achieve here?"

The figure stared at him, gaze piercing as it hunched forward, appendages that were a fusion of talons and claws wriggling a bit as if considering what to do with them. Its beak clattered a bit, and croaked, "Rawk, this pointless farce is to be terminated post haste, Gordes Musik."

Gordolf attempted to puff himself up again in the face of Blackmore's order. "Th-that homunculus is necessary for the plans of the Black Faction, he's to be a component in Caster's Noble Phantasm—"

"ScraaAaAaaaAaaw!"

The screech that the figure unleashed was fierce enough to launch a spray of spittle and phlegm all over Gordes' front. It took another step forward, as it continued, its beak open. "If Caster's Noble Phantasm requires components and such be gathered, then Darnic and the rest of the Black Faction should have gathered them before the War! CAAAAAW! He had sixty years to prepare, and all he did was round up a gang of misfits that he'd just as easily throw away if he thought it would benefit his gaining the Grail, the unenlightened mudman!"

The Master of Saber of Black stumbled back and away, but the corvine man took another step and held his arms wide as he gestured at the homunculus, screeching, "You, your son, the Forvedges, that dumb bitch Celenike, that autistic golem kid, Darnic would literally throw you all to the flames if he thought it would get him a step closer to the Grail. This homunculus today, your son tomorrow! If he had the forethought to actually plan for the Grail War, he'd have won the first day!"

When Trent mentioned Gordolf, the older man's eyes widened and his hands clenched into fists, his eyes filling with fear and rage.

Blackmore shuddered a bit and then reached out, his taloned fingers floating beneath Gordes's nose. "RAWK! Did you grow this Hitler-stache to impress Darnic? Because it didn't work for shit!" With that, he dragged his talon across Musik's upper lip, shearing the hair from it. The large man flinched and one of his hands came up to brush where his moustache had been, coming away with a small trace of blood.

The birdman then waved his arm back to the homunculus, and shrieked, "Not only that, but do you expect Ruler, a literal Saint, to actually just think that using what she would classify as an uninvolved bystander to fuel a Noble Phantasm is alright? Do you honestly think that?!"

Before anyone could interrupt, there was a huge crash and Mordred's armoured body slammed into the clearing, her body ragdolling to the ground. Trent looked over at her and remarked, "You didn't watch out for his Noble Phantasm, like I warned you to?"

"Shut up, bird bastard," she replied as she got up, Clarent held loosely in one hand, most likely grimacing something fierce under her helmet.

As she readied her sword and started to head the way she came, Saber of Black stepped into the clearing, his handsome face set in a stoic mask. He moved to stand beside his Master, the Musik man swelling up with his Servant there to support him. Gordolf cleared his throat and barked, "Saber, grab the homunculus, and let's return to the castle!"

While Siegfried moved to retrieve the homunculus and Mordred readied herself to try and hold him off, Blackmore quietly inquired, "Dragging an innocent boy to get sacrificed, at the behest of a lord…do you feel like a hero yet?"

The Saber flinched back as if struck, his face twisting in surprise. His mouth opening in shock when faced with those words. Before he could respond, Trent continued to drive the knife deeper. "Would you really be able to make your wish if you willingly sacrificed someone so callously?" Blackmore shook his head, his crimson eyes locked on to Siegfried as he clapped lightly, talons clicking against each other loudly. "My, my, what a hero!"

"Hey!" Astolfo interrupted, causing everyone to look to him. "I hate to admit it, but the bird demon kind of has a point! It's like how heroes share their meat with everyone, and the birdy boy's trying to explain it, but Saber, you're trying to make the homunculus meat to catch the birds in the bush! That's just not how being a hero works!"

No one had anything to say to that, the complete nonsense that the Rider had spouted managing to silence the clearing. Trent shook his head, coughed, then said, "Thank you for your support, Rider. I have no idea what you said, but I'm sure it made sense to you."

"Not a lick!" Astolfo cheered happily, hands placed firmly on his hips.

Before anyone could react further, Siegfried wrapped his arms around Gordes' neck, pulling him into a tight headlock. The blond man tried to struggle against the hold, slapping at the arms choking him out. When the Master was unconscious, Saber of Black nodded to them, his face set in a solemn look as he said, "Take the boy and go, please."

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Trent wrapped a taloned hand around the arm of the homunculus and hoisted him over his shoulder. Nodding his head a bit, his eyes crinkling at the corners, Trent remarked, "Looks like you got some hero in you after all. See you around, Saber of Black."

He then walked into the darkness of the forest, leaving the clearing behind. Noticing that Mordred wasn't following him, he shook his head a bit, remembering that admitting his alliance with her would end badly for him.

-x-x-x-

Kairi took a puff of his cigarette as he leaned against a tree. Johan stood a few meters away, clear of the smoke zone. While Trent was off traumatizing people as an "enlightened birdman" and Mordred was off making sure Seigfried didn't interfere with said traumatizing, Johan, Kairi, and Jekyll were playing mission control...which had thus far amounted to precisely jack and squat.

Johan wasn't complaining, though. If one of Trent's plans actually went off without a hitch for a change, that would be nothing short of a miracle.

Of course, that was when a green blur was launched across the small clearing, impacting a nearby tree with a crunching noise. Even as Jekyll faded into view in front of his Master and Kairi unslung his shotgun, Johan's eyes fixed on the figure.

Golden cat ears folded back against flaxen hair fading to green. An ornate black bow was held at the ready, an arrow already nocked and pointing away into the forest from whence its wielder came. Booted feet maintained an impossible vertical grip on the tree as Archer of Red glanced between the three of them and immediately dismissed them as threats. The Chaste Huntress' leonine gaze pierced the forest, seeking a target none of the rest of them could see.

Well, until that target barreled into the clearing as well. The new Servant's eyes were concealed behind her reddish-pink hair, but the way her mouth was pulled into a vicious grimace told all that needed to be known about her mood.

As Berserker of Black rocketed towards Atalante, lightning-rod-mace pulled back for a blow, a trio of arrows sprouted from her body; two in her leading shoulder and one in the meat of her side. A fourth arrow ricocheted off of the bronze spike arcing up from her forehead, and then Frankenstein's Monster was on top of her prey.

All of this had happened in the span of something like four seconds, and as the two opposing Servants rejoined combat, Kairi grabbed Johan by the back of his hoodie, threw him over his shoulder, and hauled ass away from the impending battleground.

Johan, for his part, felt more than saw Jekyll's reluctance to leave Fran to fight Atalante alone, and quickly made a decision. Probably a bad one, in hindsight, but he made it all the same.

'You can support her if you want, Doctor. If we run into trouble, we have our Command Seals.'

Jekyll glanced back at Johan, and gave a sharp nod, hand fishing in his pocket for that vial. As lava filled Johan's circuits, Berserker quaffed his Noble Phantasm. Instantly the lava became plasma, and Jekyll's flesh burst.

As the duo passed out of sight of the battlefield, the last thing Johan saw was the hulking, black-furred form of Edward Hyde falling upon a shocked Atalante, claws flashing.

After running for a couple minutes, Kairi slung Johan off of his shoulder and tossed him onto the ground. Before the albino could even rise from where he'd been dumped, the older man spun and raised his gun, pointing into the shadows of the forest.

"Come out with your hands up," Kairi said gruffly, his empty hand fidgeting with a pouch at his belt. Quickly, the people he'd addressed complied, though probably not how the scarred mercenary had anticipated.

First to exit the forest was a brunette woman with a kind face marred by a frown. Of more note, of course, were the four mechanical arms seemingly sprouting from her back. Two of them were planted firmly on the ground, acting in lieu of her non-functional legs, while the other two were raised, as requested. The ominous glow emitting from the left arm and the shimmering energy blade sprouting from the right went a bit against the spirit of the request, though.

Behind Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillenia stood a brunet, bespectacled boy, his features quite similar to Fiore's. Caules Forvedge Yggdmillenia was a nervous looking boy, Johan observed from his prone position. Understandable, really; Johan wasn't exactly having a great time being in combat situations himself.

As hardened mercenary stared down protective older sister, the silence grew tense. Wind stilled, leaves froze, the hairs on the back of every present neck reached for the sky…

And into that silence, Johan voiced a sound that was meant to be a throat-clearing cough but sounded more like a toad swallowing a particularly disagreeable brick.

"...Parley?"