"I get the feeling that that's supposed to be impressive, but…" Quera shrugged. "You'd be the only mage I've met anyway, so it doesn't really mean that much to me. Sorry."

Out of the corner of her eye, Quera saw Assassin wince. She got the feeling she'd said something wrong - and when she looked back up, that feeling was confirmed.

There was a horribly murderous look on the womans face for a moment, just a moment - but that was enough. Eyes wide with zeal and fury, it looked for all the world like Quera had just spat in the woman's face rather than just spoken. The woman quickly corrected herself, pulling her face back into a dignified expression and giggling a terribly fake-sounding giggle.

Standing gently to her feet, she leapt off the beam - slowly floating to the ground with her open parasol, like Mary Poppins or something.

"My, my," she laughed lightly. "Young folk these days are so misinformed. But I suppose I can't blame you - the ways of the mage have been lost, after all. You simply don't know what you're talking about, do you? So sad, so sad…"

She landed, feet not making a sound as they made contact with the concrete beneath.

Quera bit her lip, quelling her frustration. If there was one thing she hated, it was being talked down to. She'd gotten enough of that back home, thank you very much. Everyone seemed to know what was best for you - or they claimed to - when they didn't even know what was best for themselves.

Still … speaking back to someone so clearly unstable seemed like a bad idea.

"I'm sorry," Quera lied. "I just … didn't know?"

She plastered a grin on her face just as fake as the woman's giggle. It seemed she fell for it anyway, however, as the hostility in her expression relaxed slightly.

"It can't be helped, I suppose," she said, closing her eyes and smiling slightly. "No, no, no, no, it can't. I forgive you. Yes, I forgive you … I am Ariadna. Ariadna Clements."

Well, that was a stupid name. Quera didn't say that out loud, though, as she had a self-preservation instinct. This woman seemed like the kind who would go crazy if she were pushed far enough.

"Nice to meet you," said Quera cautiously. The tension in Rider's posture, beside her, did not lessen in the least. "I'm Quera."

"Quera…?" Ariadna cocked her head.

"Let's keep it on first names for now."

A purse of the lips and a click of the tongue. "You're speaking to one of the Prophets, you know. A tad more respect wouldn't go amiss."

"You keep saying Prophets," said Quera, taking a step back to lean against the wall. She crossed her arms. "But you haven't said what that means. Care to explain?"

"But of course. You're familiar with us mages as we once were, yes? You read Dr. Simms' file?"

Quera stiffened. "How do you know that?"

"We know a great many things," Ariadna's smirk twisted into a grin. "Most things, in fact. Dr. Simms was one of us Prophets as well - one of the last twelve surviving mage scions of mankind. I am Prophet Nine, he was Prophet Two."

"Surviving?" Quera wrinkled her brow. "I thought magecraft died out, but what happened to the mages? You guys don't die just from not being able to do magic, right?"

The smugness and instability seemed to leave Ariadna's eyes for a moment, to be replaced by a deep and profound sadness. It looked for all the world like she was looking through Quera, as if she were instead viewing a scene from long ago. Assassin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and her expression focused once again.

"When humanity…" she began, and then cleared her throat. "When humanity began to make its first strides into the stars, what remained of mage society protested - those who had influence among the mundane, anyway … and mankind turned against us."

"EarthReach?"

Ariadna nodded. "They sent legions after us - inquisitors, devils in human skin. Mage families were slaughtered in their homes, children strangled in their cribs. Diseases dispersed in the atmosphere to target Magic Circuits. Information networks set up to report any sign of magecraft - of mages, so they could be snuffed out. We believed ourselves to be invincible, to be outside of the concerns of petty man … it took them but a year to all but wipe us out."

Again, her eyes took on that distant look - she was seeing it all. The executions, the bodies, the death.

Quera shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. Now she felt a little uncomfortable judging this woman so readily. But, no, should she really? Sure - she had a sad story, but who didn't? Did that really make her any less obnoxious?

Besides, this was war. She couldn't afford to be taken in by a few words and a sad look.

"And you Prophets are the survivors," she said coldly.

Ariadna nodded. "I seek the Holy Grail to restore our society. For what reason do you desire it?"

She managed to make it an accusation, as if Quera's reasons for seeking the Grail were lesser than hers. Which, strictly speaking, was true. Improving her own financial solution did pale a little when compared to resurrecting a near-extinct culture -

No. No. She had as much right to the grail as anyone else. Who got it would be decided through battle, not a guilt trip.

"I'll keep that to myself too," she answered, careful not to let anything slip. For a moment, she saw Assassin's lips quirk upwards in a smile - but only for a moment. He truly radiated the sense of being a man who shouldn't be trusted.

"That's fair," said Ariadna, fake smile quickly returning. "Your reasons are your own. I forgive you … yes, I forgive you. I assume, however, you know of my reason for inviting you here?"

Quera froze, eyes darting to Assassin. She could still recognize his presence. Good - there wasn't an execution coming up, in that case. She flicked her gaze back towards Ariadna.

"An alliance?" she suggested, hoping very much that that wasn't the case. She didn't like the idea of a fight breaking out here and now.

Ariadna nodded and - almost giving Quera a heart attack - leaned forward and booped her on the nose with her finger. "You are such a smart one, dear! You should really be proud of yourself for discerning my intentions so fast!"

Was this girl rude as hell or just crazy? Quera honestly couldn't tell.

"Mademoiselle," chuckled Assassin. "I believe you're making our guest uncomfortable, no?"

Ariadna stepped back, eyebrows raised as if the idea honestly hadn't occurred to her. Like all her expressions thus far, that one quickly cleared too and she clapped her hands together as if nothing had happened. "So! In what order shall we dispatch our foes, Quera? I'd love your input."

"Hold on," said Quera, holding out a hand. "What kind of alliance would this be? We're going to fight each other eventually, so I don't want us getting all buddy-buddy beforehand. It's best if we just agree not to fight each other until we're the last two standing, right?"

Ariadna's face fell slightly, and she stepped back. She seemed legitimately disappointed, and for a moment Quera couldn't help but feel bad again. Was that something she was doing on purpose, to manipulate her? Quera honestly couldn't tell.

Even so, she pushed her doubts away, and focused on the desire that had led her to summon Rider in the first place. Never again would she feel helpless, pushed around by the desires and whims of others.

She needed more information.

"This Dr. Simms - Prophet Two, whatever. What does he have to do with all this? I found the file on the Holy Grail War on his ship, but I don't know why he had it. Why don't you tell me the full story, and then I decide what's going on with us?"

She had no intention of becoming full-on allies either way, of course, but it couldn't hurt to give that impression.

Ariadna took a deep breath, as if decided whether she could afford to give away all her information. Weighing Quera's value as a teammate against the value of such unrevealed knowledge. Then, she began to speak:

"Us Prophets don't know each other's identities. Well, we're not supposed to - so that if one of us is caught, we can't tattletale on the others. We all have spies trying to discover each other's identities anyway, of course, for political reasons."

"That's foolish," said Rider, speaking up suddenly for the first time in a while. "The benefit to the individual isn't worth risking the entire group. Even if you were motivated by greed or ambition, the reward simply isn't worth it."

Ariadna looked away. "We had to be sure none of the other Prophets were planning actions against us."

"Of course." Rider sounded disappointed, but unsurprised.

"Anyway, I discovered Simms' identity - and began following his actions. During our council meetings - anonymous, of course - he began to mention a plan he had to resurrect magus society."

"The Holy Grail War, right?" said Quera.

Ariadna nodded. "That's correct. He thought to wish upon the Holy Grail to reverse the devastation of our society. For that purpose, he gathered massive amounts of Zenithlight to recreate the ritual."

"Sounds like a good plan. Free wish, so long as you can win the war."

"I'd agree - except he didn't inform the other Prophets. Had he done so, all seven slots could be filled from among our ranks, ensuring our wish would come true no matter the victor. Simms obviously wished for his own advancement as well."

Quera didn't speak up to mention how Ariadna apparently hadn't informed the other Prophets either, but the thought crossed her mind.

"What about the other participants? How'd they find out about this?"

"The information leaked, I supposed. Perhaps one of Simms' servants or close colleagues let others know. Now, a number of parties are involved, including EarthReach." Ariadna's eyes turned cold, dead, and her voice just as much. A robotic monotone. "No matter what, I cannot allow them to win the Grail. They'll finish us off. I just know it."

A moment of silence, the wind whistling a jolly tune outside.

"An alliance, then…?" said Ariadna.

"No." Quera shook her head. "But a truce."

The silence continued, both of them staring into the eyes of the other. Rider's hand inched - just the slightest fraction of a centimeter - towards his sword, stopping when Assassin's eyes flicked towards him.

"That's … acceptable," said Ariadna.

Two patrol ships moved to avoid a swarm of asteroids on their newly assigned patrol on the edge of the Zenith system. Ever since the CEO's son had been kidnapped, security throughout the system had been dispatched on a variety of new missions. Many officers were seeing more action now than they had in the last twenty years.

Odrik Vorson, however, was stuck patrolling what was literally the middle of nowhere. No, actually, that was giving it too much credit. It was the edge of nowhere, far from where even nothing was happening. In the unlikely event that something were to happen in the middle of nowhere, he would be far too far away to appreciate it.

He drummed his fingers on the controls of the patrol ship, eyes lazily scanning over the data it was feeding him. Truth be told, humans weren't even really needed on these new patrol ships - the autopilot just took care of things automatically, feeding visual data to the nearest security station if they were unmanned. He was just here so they could get information a little more quickly.

"Y'see anything, Ted?" Odrik spoke over the communications to the other ship.

"Nooope."

Odrik adopted a tone of mock-surprise. "Well, that's a real surprise to me there, Ted! I've done this route god-knows how many times and it's been a while since I saw nothing - nothing at all! This is one for the books, huh buddy?"

"Don't be a jackass, heheh."

"Can't help it, Ted. It's my natural state of being."

"Funny guy." Odrik could almost hear the roll of the eyes.

"Glad you think so. I - hold on a sec."

Something was approaching on the ships sensors - a huge object entering the Zenith system, surrounded by a swarm of smaller objects. If it was that close, thought, it should have been visible.

Odrik looked up, and saw the ship decloak, becoming visible.

There had been many groups of mercenaries and deserters over the years who had turned to attacking other ships for supplies and had called themselves pirates. Most of these pirate gangs were short-lived - either EarthReach apprehended them, or they killed each other over money or leadership rights. Pirate gangs, like mayflies, had short lives.

Except one. One had never been caught, never fallen, never faltered.

The pirate flagship, once an EarthReach battleship until it was stolen, was plated with solid gold, encrusted with diamonds and other, more alien jewels. It's already impressive arsenal of weaponry had been supplemented with countless other cannons and lasers protruding from every available orifice, ready to blast any unwelcome visitors straight out of the sky. Swarms of fighters and unmanned drones buzzed around the ship, an extra layer of both offense and defense.

On the side of the ship was its name: The All for One.

And right on top of the ship, in the vacuum of face, stood a man with his arms crossed. He was huge, nearly eight feet tall, and dark-skinned - covered in intricate geometric tattoos, like some kind of circuit board. Long white hair flowed as if there were wind, and a braided white beard hung from his chin. He was shirtless, muscles like those of a carved statue on full display - save for a red sash hanging from his shoulder - but a black robe concealed his lower half.

Odrik couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even blink.

There was a colossal bow floating next to the man, like nothing Odrik had ever seen - made of materials he couldn't even identify, and pulsing with a red light from within. It's string was lightning, and a floating circle of glyphs rotated around where one would expect an arrowhead to protrude.

The man - moving so slowly from Odrik's perspective, and yet in reality moving blindingly fast - mimed the action of pulling back a bowstring, and the bow next to him responded in kind, lightning moving backwards as if being pulled and the glyphs intensifying in light. There was a sound, building up even in the silence of space, as if a hurricane were approaching.

Then, it stopped - and a pinprick of golden light hung in front of the bow.

"Retreat!" roared Odrik into the communicator, hands moving to force the ship to escape.

His hands never reached the controls.

The point of light launched, becoming a projectile that moved fluidly through the air like a golden thread, flowing towards the two ships at a blinding speed. First, it punctured through Odrik's cockpit, hitting him right between the eyes and killing him instantly - but leaving no visible wound.

Next, it darted out through the same hole it had entered through - repairing it on the way out, as respect for the slain - and moves towards Ted's ship, which was turning to escape. This time, the thread moved in a solid, zig-zag shape, moving in hard angles. Perhaps it had lost some of its fine control because it had been out for longer. Nevertheless, it crossed the gap between the two ships, maneuvering between every scrap of space dust so that it touched nothing but its target.

All of this took place in about half a second.

The arrow punctured Ted's cockpit, hitting him right between the eyes as well - still leaving no wound, but killing him without a doubt. This time, the arrow disappeared right after killing its target, so it didn't repair the damage it had done to the cockpit. As a result, the vacuum meant that things within the ship became messy very quickly.

The arrow could only sustain itself for about a second, give or take.

That was only to be expected. This was Archer's weakest form of attack, after all.

Observing the two ships, now floating in space, Archer sighed. He closed his eyes, offering a moment of respect for the two dead. Their only crime had been in being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then, he fired another arrow - so quickly you couldn't even tell that he had moves. This second attack was to destroy the ships black boxes, as well as all the other means they had to store data. Archer's Master wanted to keep his location hidden for as long as possible. He truly was a lamentable man.

After confirming the destruction of all targets, Archer waved a hand. His grand bow disappeared, dissolving into what looked like dust and then completely vanishing.

A moment later, he himself did the same.