Dragon Ball: Faded Dawn

by TheCongo

Even as the Cell games came to a crashing end, his mind drifted toward another time, to a war that would end with his return, only to find himself in a new conflict with all of humanity on the line once more. From one dark future to another, Trunks must fight through legends across all walks of existence to return home and finish what he started.

6. Cracks

Welcome back to another edition, it's been a little while, and I apologize for that; graduate school has been a bit of a hurdle in recent times, and I've been accepted into a program to get my second Masters immediately after this one comes to an end; I can't write as often as I'd like to, so I appreciate your patience.

A quick thing of note: recently, my main story, Grail Wars, had been under "attack" by someone with a vendetta against me for reasons I don't know; at one point, he even made an account called "TheCongo1" and went around spamming smut in the comments on other peoples stories, I've already had site admins remove everything he's done, but please know in the future, any account claiming to be me that is not the one currently posting my stories is not me, I have no alts of any kind, so keep that in mind.

We recently hit 200 followers, which is exciting, it's always nice to see the numbers tick up, and I'm glad to have you on board; we're still figuring a lot of this narrative out as we go, but I appreciate the reviews people have given, their insights have proven very useful in how I can improve as a writer.

Some people have contacted me, worrying about the longevity of a story involving a character as overpowered as one from Dragon Ball Z and how I would keep things interesting in Fate, and to that, I ask for some patience; we've had a planned out narrative to address this for quite some time, we'll get there slowly but surely, not nerfing anyone into the ground, I prefer the high road, why drag someone down when you can go up instead?

We're pretty settled on everything else if I'm being honest. The pairing recommendations continue to primarily occur in my DMs which is fine; if you have a suggestion for that, feel free to comment on it or whatever you feel like doing; the list of options keeps growing longer for better or worse, but that's a bridge we'll cross in the distant future. My beta reader and I have our own ideas, but I like giving my readers a voice to pitch their ideas as well; go wild, but keep it within common sense.

Otherwise, let's get started on another chapter; it's good to be back!

...

"Is it slavery if you get what you want?"- Vegeta

...

Embers danced through the biting cold of the night sky, their glowing forms dwindling with each passing inch, their burning light a stark contrast to the distant stars above, nearly hidden behind layer after layer of ash-coated cloud tops, with a beam of light jutting overhead, and yet they persisted as they had for all time, their presence a constant reminder of the vast universe that lay just beyond the horizon, where many would stare at wonder, idly pondering what existed beyond that distant veil, were there other worlds? What would it be like to see a completely different planet? Would they be mere barren rocks, or would something or someone be waiting for a first encounter? The thought seemed so far off, a problem for future generations to handle, yet, it seemed to persist for as long as man existed, asking ourselves, what would happen at that moment? Would we be enlightened with technology and gifts beyond comprehension? Would we ascend with them to a higher plane of existence? These were dreams many would have across time in their isolated little pocket of the universe, not knowing just how wrong they were.

*FWING

A figure soared across the skies, their once immaculate black cloak tattered and shredded as the lower atmosphere pounded every inch of his person, igniting his pale skin as he crashed downward at untold speeds, his screams drowning out as swirling layers of energy spiraled around his form in a reactive shell, with crackling jolts bursting out of each side. At one time, he stood as the pinnacle of elegance and brutality, a ruler that would go to any lengths to protect his kingdom and his people, retaining a sense of grace although the atrocities affixed to his name, but through the decades, had become little more than the monicker for a monster whose existence drove pangs of fear across the world at the slightest bump in the night. Onlookers could see little more than a blurred mass of color surrounded by a growing cloak of purple flame, his gleaming red eyes submerging beneath the superheated sea as his screams of pain rang out, only to fall into dust as the Heroic Spirit impacted the cobblestone streets below, with an immense flash of light blasting out, followed by a deafening blast as rubble rained down across the surrounding area, and as the spectators trailed upward, they could only see a hovering figure looming overhead, a stern expression atop his features, and though none would know at the time, this would be their first true encounter with what reality had in store beyond that horizon.

People often say that the universe isn't inherently good or evil; it just is, a thing we slap labels atop of which has no particular inclination toward either direction, but those were the words of the foolish; any lifeform with a trace of thought could take one glance at the purple-haired warrior flying through the skies, wielding a power few could even fathom, dwarfing even the sun that kept their planet alive, and compare that to the average person, one of the many victims of the monster he had just slain, and while the warrior could fight back, many couldn't say the same.

The universe wasn't fair; some species won the short term, being given a near paradise for a homeworld, having few if any hardships to call their own, and never having to adapt beyond their little needs, sure there was war and devastation but nothing that couldn't be recovered from with time; most were biologically content to sit on their prosperous planets until someone else decided they wanted it more.

Other races were born on derelict rocks in some of the hardest conditions known to the stars, from rugged terrain, meteor showers, or a near unbreathable environment. There was a whole list of factors that could contribute to an endless cycle of evolutionary competition; a select few would rise from the ashes, acquiring a power most could only dream of, and once their base of operations was settled, that strength had to go somewhere, and most looked outward toward galaxies and gas clusters ripe for the taking, and no one to stop them, and none were better or more ruthless than the Saiyans.

Empathy is a trait most races hold dear, the fundamental glue that keeps their societies together and cohesive; caring for your fellow man was the dividing line between man and beast, and yet, the warrior species stood at those crossroads, intelligent enough to understand their existence yet ruthless, capable of emotion yet not caring for others in the slightest

, they were selfish, born violent and angry, their population never reaching over a few million for the precise reason that they would destroy yet another homeworld if their conflicts grew too large, Saiyans couldn't function near one another, and where others would develop bonds, they would kill their own the moment an opportunity to rise seemed to appear.

Weakness wasn't acceptable; they were a society run and driven by power and nothing else; if you weren't capable of holding your own, you were nothing. They would ship the weakest infants off to foreign worlds; those that lived long enough to conquer them would earn their place, most would never make it past a year, but neither their race nor even their parents seemed to care, thousands if not millions of worlds fell to these demons unable to resist, Other World forbid their world happened to have a moon in orbit, it would only make their suffering worse. Thousands if not millions of planets, solar systems, governments, and dynasties fell before their might, wiping entire species out or driving the survivors into slavery, the universe quickly learned to fear the Saiyans and their arrival, it meant certain doom, and when Frieza decided to wipe them out on a whim, no one cried out for what had happened, it was the norm, always a stronger power looming in the darkness, waiting to crush unsuspecting victims lost in the endless void of space. That was the reality of their world and what stood beyond the stars, with the Earth protected by its obscurity and a lone protector standing against everything reality could throw at him.

Although the fighter was nothing like his predecessors before him, the resemblance was uncanny, a sight many fallen species had witnessed before their untimely demise, a figure hovering above the masses, bringing down a display of power few could even comprehend, then silence, with only the accompanying sound of rocks slamming down on cobblestone roadways and the relentless crunch of wood as houses caved in, only to be engulfed in the burning flames flooding through the streets. While most Saiyans would delight in unwarranted destruction, the halfling felt nothing but anger, his static blue eyes glaring down at the city that once housed hundreds, if not more, now desolate and empty, a massacre driven on by the whims of the strong.

Trunks absent-mindedly gripped his wounded arm as he watched the last wisps of Lancer's existence fade away in a dwindling flicker of purple light, feeling nothing but frustration at himself for letting that thing and its allies get away with this, he had gotten here too late, and more people died because of it, deaths he could have prevented, but was too busy playing in his own head trying to make sense of his bizarre circumstances. He had taken it upon himself to protect the people of Earth, to keep them safe from nightmares like this, and he failed...again.

He clenched a fist tight, his eyes wandering through the streets below, seeing nothing but complete destruction as far as the eye could see. Was anyone even alive, buried under all that rubble? He couldn't say; some power levels were so low, so weak, even he struggled to detect them, but it wasn't the time for that; even if the swordsman hated to say it, they would have to wait until he dealt with the people responsible for this.

*CLANG

A sudden clash broke out, drawing his gaze as sparks rang out across the once-prosperous hub of trade as metal crashed together, the sound ringing out for miles on end. Lancer stood atop an overturned wagon, once dragged along the tattered roadways by some horse or other, maintaining his balance with the perfection of a dancer as it wobbled back and forth, his gleaming red eyes facing an opposing rooftop as ash swirled around him.

An eloquent heel rose, exposing a flawless pale skin hidden behind layers of metal framing and winding black leggings, before slamming down atop a wooden fixture as Assassin's blood-red dress flowed with the evening breeze, her orange orbs flickering between her target and his red counterpart, the latter standing to the wayside as though some unheard threat or concession had kept him from intervening, though within her vampiric mind, none could say for sure what ran through the countess' hunger driven mind, she parted her lips to speak, only to be interrupted by her opponent as he raised his spear high, raising it across his shoulders in indifference. "You know, I was hoping you lot would last a little longer than this," he sighed, looking toward the ground in mild disappointment before shaking the feeling aside with a shrug, nodding toward his summoner above, "Ain't much of a fight if a human like him can take you out."

The demonic woman sneered, glancing upward, her nostrils flared, only to be followed by a disgusted grimace, exposing her jagged fangs as their pale white surface reflected the moonlight. "You call that thing a human?" she seemed to stifle a blench, "He reaks like an ape...how Vlad managed to stomach that creature's blood, I'll never know, but he always liked to dig in the trash for whatever scraps of flesh he could find, my tastes are more refined, and I know rot when I see it."

Lancer raised a brow as his Master noticeably twitched at the insult, almost unnoticeable, but he bristled at the word... 'ape,' but why?... ohhh... It all clicked together in his veteran mind in a moment of utter clarity as he realized just how alike they truly were; just like so many others tried to falsely call him a dog, they mocked his summoner with a name of his own, a tragedy they both endured it seemed.

The Celt's spear flew overhead, landing along his right as both hands clasped along its shimmering red surface, its edge pointed toward the possessed Servant, "But you were too stupid to tell your own Ruler was just a weak brat throwing a tantrum?" Prana surged within the warrior, overwhelming his person as it boiled over to the surface, the tingling sensation bringing a confident smirk to his features, "You pick your meals better than your fights, vampire."

She raised her staff high, with each motion causing yet another rattle from the chains surrounding her torso before slamming it down atop the edge, splattering the ground below in a spray of dust and debris as crackling purple energy built around its upper half, almost engulfing the Servant within her own might, "Call it what you will, a traitor serving one betrayed by her own people, but to that, I say who better? For we both know what it takes to avoid a dagger in your throat; my Ruler is beyond you; she won't give in so easily once more."

The Chulainn's predatory grin grew as he felt the all too familiar burst of energy coming from within, overwhelming every fiber of his being with his Master's foreign power, lowering himself as the wood beneath him buckled and creaked with his Master's foreign power. He spoke with a ferocity akin to a man who had spent his entire life slaying monsters of a far higher caliber than what this woman had to offer, "A liar working for a coward, the moment your kind smells weakness, you'd cut her down yourself-" Cracks began to spread throughout the vehicle as its entire form buckled and creaked as the Servant bared his teeth in a righteous fury, "but you won't live to see that day."

*BOOOOM

One moment the Servant was atop the fallen cart, the next, it had exploded into a rain of dust and wooden shrapnel as he vanished from sight in the blink of an eye; Assassin could hardly react as a burst of wind overwhelmed her person as Lancer blasted into existence behind her, hovering in the air, his eyes widened in surprise as his orbs scanned their surroundings in utter confusion, having flown much farther than the Celt had expected, a single leap had taken him to speeds far beyond his body's current limits. He rolled with it, swinging his spear overhead as his entire form rotated alongside, its back end jutting out into the skies above as he came crashing down, thrusting toward the demonic woman's exposed neck as her entire body shuttered, feeling his presence at the last moment, guided by instinct, she spun on her heels, trying to deflect his strike with the colossal tool attached to her back, only for sparks to rain down as the blow crashed along its edge, missing its mark as it slashed across the vampire's face, slicing across her pearl-like skin crashing through the rooftop entirely as the entire structure imploded from within, sending both Servants careening down to the rugged rocks below.

As the countess fell, she kicked off a piece of debris, sliding along her heels, using her staff to drag her momentum to a halt; her orange eyes glowed with fury as she watched her own blood trickle to the ground below; she stared at her reflection along her weapon's surface raising a finger to caress the wound, her beauty utterly besmirched as the slash refused to close, her entire body shaking at the sight, "My youth..how-.

Lancer landed in a crouch with an audible crunch from his armor; slowly rising to his feet, the man spun Gae Bolg inquisitively, clenching a fist with his free hand; the child of light could feel the near otherworldly levels of power surging through him, his mind flickering in understanding, realizing that this was how Mash had held her own against Saber of all people, their new Master had unfathomable reserves compared to the others he had worked with since becoming part of the Throne, it was like comparing a drop of bog water to the Irish Sea, it only made the spearman wonder how strong he could get with someone like this leading the charge. He gave the enraged Servant a disregarding stare, "Eternal youth isn't all it's cracked up to be; you just sound like an old hag that can't accept when she's beaten by someone younger," he gave a mocking grin, "and better looking, but who knows, I just might let you take a bite if you're so jealous."

The tainted Assassin paused in her tracks, shifting her glare toward her target; raising a pale hand, she clenched the cage surrounding her body so tight the bar itself bent and snapped between her sharpened nails as she let out a laugh of disbelief, "Me, eating a grotesque brute like yourself? Why pause for a rotten morsel when a divine maiden awaits my presence?"

Cú blinked, glancing back toward their recently allied Saint; with a hand raised toward her heart, the maiden tried to take a step forward, only for him to shake his head in denial; refusing her offer, he turned back toward the masked countess, "You can't even tell which Jeanne d'Arc you're talking about anymore, but you have the gall to call others animals?" He took a step forward, crushing a pile of rock beneath his boot, "If you want to act like a beast, then I'll hunt you as one, come at me!"

A sudden shiver racked through the corrupted Assassin's form as she observed the Celt's determination, as though her instinctive urges had suddenly shifted, her eyes glancing across the scene in realization, and that split second, the elegant huntress raised her staff high as purple lightning exploded off its tip, spiraling around in a relentless circle of light before aiming downward, rocketing a blast of magical energy toward the Irishman, he met the attack head on, slicing upward with his inherited weapon, only to be blinded in an ethereal glow and as the aura dwindled, he could hear the rapid pace of heels along rock-strewn roadways, watching as a blurred figure leaped across the rooftops at blinding speeds, a vein pulsated on his forehead as a deep anger took over his sense of reason, taking off with a bark of rage, he raced after the fleeing Servant, "OY!"

Trunks watched as the spearman disappeared behind a corner, his energy signature growing more distant by the moment as flashes of light and purple energy exploded across the town, and with a sigh, the Saiyan lowered his ki, slowly dropping to the ground in front of the destroyed cathedral, with stained glass audibly crunching beneath his boots. As he landed beside Mash and her saintly counterpart, the Chaldean's lilac orbs flickered toward him; noticing how his focus lay solely on their Celtic ally's direction, far out of sight, she gripped her shield tight, expecting at any moment for him to take that first step forward into the fray, yet he didn't seem to budge an inch, she squinted in confusion, "Shouldn't we help him, Senpai?"

The halfling's sight never left Lancer for even a moment; he crossed his arms over his chest, and with a shake of his head, he spoke with absolute certainty, "He doesn't want our help, and if you have any respect for him, then I wouldn't get involved."

Her mouth hung open for a moment, glancing back and forth in uncertainty, "But...why? If she's just a lone Servant, we could handle this together and be done with it; letting him do this alone doesn't make sense!"

Trunks took a slow breath of ashen-filled air, knowing that Mash was right about this, but a year of enduring this sort of behavior gave the teen more insight into the mentality than anyone could believe, "Pride doesn't have to make sense, and you're only going to cause problems jumping into a fight he doesn't want you in."

Mash fully turned, taking a step toward her Master, observing his hardened features; she waved a hand to the scene ahead, "...Pride in what? The teachers in Chaldea always told us that it's best to work together, Masters and Servants alike, to get things done; why wouldn't we help him!?"

His eyes shifted to meet her stare of disbelief, not in a glare, but with a look that spoke of a lifetime of conflict, resolute and utterly firm, "You can only work together if everyone wants that, but his pride as a warrior is on the line here, this is something he wants to do by himself" He lightly shook his head, "I'm not a fan of it either, but if I learned one thing from my time in the past, you don't overstep that boundary unless you absolutely have to, it's not always about winning faster, sometimes you need to know when someone needs this."

The demi-human bristled as Jeanne gently patted her shoulder with an armored hand, giving the Chaldean a reassuring smile, giving off a nearly angelic glow with her mere words, "A life without belief isn't worth living at all, and if he's willing to risk his own for such a thing, couldn't you place your trust in him, Mash?"

The defender paused for a moment, her eyes briefly lighting up as one of the most famous people to ever live spoke directly to her; star-struck didn't quite fit the word, getting to live in a history book...she cringed at that, knowing how wrong it was...alternate history...there we go, much better. She stood like that for a few moments before slumping forward in surrender, "...I don't know how you two are comfortable with how complicated this is..."

The Holy Maiden tilted her head, with the sound of clinking metal ringing out as she clasped her hands together in reverence, gazing up toward the skies above, looking on to the infinite cosmos above, choosing to ignore the fire and ash rising by the second, "I don't think it's all that hard, belief is all one and the same if you truly mean it." Her smile seemed to grow, reflecting a serenity and peacefulness for which history remembered the Saint for all time, "People like to make things more complicated than they need to be; it isn't God who chooses for war to happen, or for those who speak the truth to be punished, we make those decisions, and the world pays for those sins, but we can also choose to put our faith in the good hiding in everyone, and trust them to do what's right."

Trunks glanced toward the Saint, not really sure what to make of her words; having come from a world where survival took precedence, he had seen a lot of terrible things in his lifetime, luckily being spared due to his family's former influence, but very few could claim the same. It was bizarre comparing her with her counterpart; where one was angry, this one embodied the idea of honesty and kindness; it was like being around another Goku, with a lot less...Goku activities; his mind briefly flickered back to the last time he saw the pure-hearted Saiyan disappearing with Cell, sacrificing himself in an explosion that would have wiped them all out...he silently hoped he wouldn't have to watch another friend blow themself up like that.

The swordsman continued to stare off into nowhere in particular, eventually glancing down at the ground until he found his words, "I hate to bring it up, but your other half seemed pretty unrepentant when we met-" he let out a huff of frustration, "are you sure you want to go through with this plan of yours to talk her down?"

Her smile dwindled slightly at the comment, her stare drooping just a bit as the blues in her eyes lulled as the Catholic icon instinctively leaned upon her pole staff as the illustrious banner of France waved in the breeze, "I like to think anyone could change given enough effort, I can't give up hope on her if we haven't even met, can I?" she paused, turning toward the Sayian, looking past Mash as the girl awkwardly tried to lean out of the way of their conversation, "You've...met yourself before...no?...How would you handle this?"

Mash's mouth hung open for a moment before she spun on her heels, suddenly taking an immense interest in the conversation as she faced the swordsman with a sudden scholarly fascination with an invisible notebook almost appearing in her hands and Inside her head, the Chaldean was relying on her vast knowledge of all things fiction to dictate this conversation. "Wait, you did?" A twinkle appeared in her eyes before the invisible pen appeared, "But doesn't that break every rule of time travel?... Wouldn't meeting yourself...I don't know, blow up the universe?"

The hybrid instinctively leaned away with the sudden onslaught of questions, not having the expertise or know-how to answer any of what the Chaldean was trying to pry out of him, but something told him that's not what Mash was looking for; he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, "Well...it's not really like the comics make it out to be, changing the past doesn't change the future, it just makes a new timeline where things went a little different, but-"

He fumbled through his memories, trying to find a way to describe his encounter with the past Z-Fighters somehow legible to someone that had never heard of any of these people before deciding to just wing it, shifting toward the ever-patient Saint, he half mumbled, "The other me was a baby, so...not much conversation there but, after meeting him, it wasn't so much that I was looking at myself, but...kind of like I had a little brother, I guess-" he let himself smile a bit at the thought, "he liked pulling my hair."

As Jeanne listened, she gave off an approving nod, "You make it sound so pleasant, but youth has such an innocence to it; he was too young to sin, while mine has already caused so much needless pain to others." The maiden slowly turned toward the pile of rubble that once stood tall as one of the many houses of God in her fair nation, a somber look on her face as she pictured meeting someone that looked just like her, "...Do you think we could be like that somehow...sisters?"

He opened his mouth to speak, only to pause, knowing that he couldn't say that change was impossible, but it was hard to pull off; someone had to be willing to admit fault before bettering themselves, and that was the hardest part of all, it took an eye-opening event, not sweet words to make that happen. He looked down at a fallen cross resting along the ground, thinking back to the family he had left behind in another timeline and the father the teen had finally met after a lifetime of hearing nothing more than old stories; they had started on a rough patch, but Trunks couldn't deny he saw a shift in his dad's behavior, a man who had once conquered worlds now seemed to want to be there for his family, to do right by his wife and child, it was slight, but it felt like a start.

The hybrid slowly walked forward, coming to a stop at the Saint's side, asking, "I think I know what you're hoping for, but are you ready in case she wants nothing to do with it?... I did have to drop a church on her to keep her down."

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Saint's expression go static for just a second as she took a slow but calming breath, placing both hands along her banner as she jutted its end into the ground, "...Yes ...next time, please don't destroy the house of God..." she gave a downtrodden look to the side, "I quite liked that church."

The Saiyan shivered as if a truck full of guilt had hit him square in the chest, suddenly realizing that he had literally done that in front of a Catholic Saint...one he had never heard of, but still...does burying a sinner with it count for anything?... Given the look in her eyes, probably not.

Trunks looked anywhere except where the maiden currently stood before muttering an awkward apology; he slowly lowered himself, placing both hands beneath the wreckage, adjusting his grip as the entire structure balanced under his hold, slowly raising it upward, only to pause as the French martyr marched up beside him, placing her gauntlets beneath the debris, giving him the same saintly smile she gave to all who happened upon her, "A burden such as mine isn't easy to bare alone, and to show my thanks, just as you've helped me, I'll do the same."

The swordsman took her help in stride, not needing it by any means, but he wasn't about to stop someone from helping in any way they could, but soon found himself glancing in her direction, "I can't imagine what you're going through, it can't be easy knowing someone that looks just like you is capable of this, but you don't owe me anything."

She let out a hum of some unknown hymn stored in her vast memory of church services, "And next, you'll say you did this because you wanted to, no?" The martyr let out a slight giggle at his sudden look of embarrassment, "Fight alongside men long enough, and you'll hear the same things. We all join the battlefield for one cause or another; I answered the call of God to drive the English out of my nation, and my faith was my purpose, but even then, I made decisions that would satiate my heart more than the war, so I must ask, what really brings you here beside me?"

Letting the question sit for a moment, the Saiyan gazed toward the beam of light crossing the horizon, illuminating the upper atmosphere with its vast array of unnatural light, "You know how I mentioned being a time traveler?-" Seeing the Saint give a slight nod from the corner of his eye, the swordsman continued, "I grew up in a future where the entire planet is like this, and not a day went by when we didn't hear about someone we knew getting killed, but unlike here, I was the only one left to try and fight back, but I was never strong enough."

A grimace crossed his features as he thought back to those barren city streets, now desolate and depopulated, with only the sporadic spark from the broken street lights to remind the few wanderers left that people had once lived there. "Every since I was young, my mom always told me stories about how good things used to be, back when the Earth still had fighters to protect it, but I wouldn't know; it all started back when I wasn't even one year old, but I could see what the people responsible did to it, but there was never a reason, I heard it myself, they killed in the millions because they got a kick out of it. They made life a living hell just because it was funny to them, and I dreamed of the day I could finally stop them."

Trunks looked down at his hands as they instinctively clenched, nearly turning his entire hold into dust before stopping himself, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want revenge for what they did to my friends, but honestly, I just want it to end." He glanced toward the Saint, meeting her stare with a somber look, "I'm fighting for peace."

Jeanne allowed herself a smile as the Saint seemed to compose her thoughts; looking toward her plated armor, she bobbed on her heels, feeling the jostling of metal again her person, "...All these years of fighting off the English and never once did I want to take a life but I did so because there was no alternative, I even found myself wondering when the war would end, but could never think of what to do with myself if the calls came to an end...what does one even do in peace?"

The Saiyan idly thought back to his time in the time chamber, enduring the biting cold and burning temperatures to get stronger by any means necessary, "I asked my dad the same thing once...we trained together for almost a year when I went back in time, but we hardly spoke at all, but he told me something I'd never forget." An image of the Saiyan prince clenching a fist in pride came to mind as he spoke his words verbatim, "'Don't be satisfied with short-term goals; I'll keep pushing myself until I'm number one, and if you do the same, and aim for something better, you'll have no problem with what's to come."

*RRR

As the entire structure slowly rose as the hybrid stood with practically no effort, feeling a slight shift from below, yet ignoring it as his mind lingered on his father, wanting nothing more than to make the man proud, "It took me a while to realize what he meant, but I think he wanted me to know that just because one fight is over, it doesn't mean another isn't waiting around the corner, as long as our planet exists, there's always going to be that chance, and if it's our purpose to defend it, then we need to prepare ourselves for anything. I'm going to keep getting stronger so that once we have peace, it'll stay as long as I live." He glanced toward the Saint, "If you've been called once, who knows, you might just be needed again someday."

The martyr's eyes widened a bit before turning toward the fallen church, staring down as if she could see beneath the layers of debris and toward the person beneath, "...is that why I was summoned?... Because she was here?... For who but God knows you best but yourself?" A spark of joy fluttered across her, "Does that mean she's meant to be saved?! Could I spare her from thi-"

*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The ground began to shake as billowing smoke erupted between the cracks of the wreckage, floating upward as superheated wafted to the skies above, a faint voice ringing out sporadically between the sounds of breaking rocks as flames began to inch their way upward toward the surface, "_evil is here_revenge has come."

A violent hiss broke out as the fire rocketed through the debris, sending tons of molten rock and glass into the sky, raining down on the village below as more and more debris continued to surge upward, the Saiyan and his ally could barely lunge back as their piece of the pile burned to cinders, a distant voice becoming clear, spoken with the vilest venom existence had to offer, "This is the roar of my soul that was polished by hatred..."

*FWOOOOM

The entire structure exploded into the sky, revealing a scorching lake of fire as a midnight black sword cleaved through the toxic air, revealing the tainted Saint as her yellow eyes gleamed with a fury only known to the damned; in her other hand stood the corrupted banner fluttering in the breeze, the right half of her face nearly caved in from the Saiyan's earlier strike, and he could only watch in fascination as the wound dissipated into a spiral of energy, coursing along the sinner's armor until roaring outward as a demonic fire shot into the sky, spiraling around her, gaining more speed by the moment, forming a vortex of energy, Trunks could only bristle in realization, sensing his own energy within the maelstrom, a sense of panic overwhelmed him as the woman's words echoed within the inferno, "La Grondement Du Haine!"

Time seemed to slow as her sword slammed downward, its point aimed at the pair as it began to glow, with the surrounding energy culminating in a single location; the surrounding atmosphere screeched as oxygen ignited. Trunks could only react on instinct; throwing caution to the wind, the Saiyan dove toward his saintly ally; with her only just beginning to turn in his direction to do the same, his hands slammed into her armor, sending the icon careening out of the way, toppling straight into Mash as the demi-human tried to rush forward, he could hardly see them impact the ground before the blast impacted against him, the entire world becoming little more than a sea of fire as his own strength and then some slammed into him at full force, knocking him off his feet and carrying the time traveler along for the ride, crashing through building after building, through stone, wood, and glass, clearing out of the town in less than a second, he impacted the ground as blazing pillars shot out the Earth, coalescing before igniting in a blast that seemed to stretch on for miles.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Jeanne could only watch on as fire soared in the distance, upturning an entire stretch of farmland into nothing more than ash in the sky as the blast consumed her new Master within its confines, but her train of thought soon came crashing down as an all too familiar laugh broke out as a set of armor clinked along the ground. Mash scrambled to her feet, pulling the dazed Saint along with her, and as the martyr slowly turned, she saw a blurred figure come into detail as a hardened heel slammed down atop a block of melting stone, her blue eyes meeting a pair with a sickly yellow hue as a voice echoed with a hatred she couldn't hope to describe, "Falling victim to yet another sweet nothing from a voice you don't understand, do you simply cling to whoever supports your stupidy, bouncing from one hopeless fool to another like the harlots we drove from our encampments?"

Seconds passed as the Catholic struggled to find herself, only able to stare at her duplicate in disbelief, only for the fallen Servant to sneer, hissing in disgust at her mere presence, "Where has all that talk of saving my soul from damnation gone...dear 'sister?'" She visibly gagged, gripping a fist tight as flames rose around her, burning an exposed crucifix into superheated slag as she took a step down, leveling an unholy glare at the two, "And to what do I need salvation from? Certainly not my own actions, but perhaps from the kinsmen who abandoned one of their own, watching, laughing, and mocking as the English torched us alive; you remember it, don't you, feeling our skin boil and peel as they smiled in glee? Or have you lost those feelings to another fantasy of self-importance, my dear Saint?"

Jeanne clenched a fist, placing her gauntlet over her heart as confusion and emotion ran high, "I've never once called myself a Saint, but it is not our place to punish our fellow countrymen, nor is it just to place blame upon them, both you and I headed the word of God and chose this life for ourselves!"

She tried to step forward, only for a wave of heat to stop her in her tracks as her counterpart swiped a hand out in anger, "We chose nothing!" The Ruler took a sharp breath, her bangs briefly overshadowing her pale skin, shielding her eyes from sight as she gritted her teeth, "I would've lived a simple life were it not for the damn voice, always, always, always talking! He led us to our deaths and went silent, and our king and country were all but willing to go along with our insanity so long as we continued to bring victories on the front, and the moment we failed, they left us to rot!"

The sinner pointed a finger at her blue-eyed doppelganger, "Thirteen battles, we marched through hell and back for the sake of our faith, and what did it bring us?" She let out a huff, "Tell me, what choice is there when the crowd has swept you into their madness, where every soul looks to you for salvation, yet you have no answers? Your sweet words touch my soul like the foulest bile you could make, stuck in some fantasy where you're seen as a person and not some pawn in another's grand scheme!"

Mash bristled at the venom leaking from the Servant but forced herself to act, driven on by a desire to protect her newest friend, "That's not true!" slightly wincing as the witch's stare slowly shifted toward the Chaldean, yet she persevered, "The king tried to save you, but no one would take your ransom! You weren't abandoned; you were"

The dragon witch let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as her bleach blonde locks swished about, with a single strand continuing to defy gravity, "Empty promises with an army on standby that did nothing, yes, yes, Giles told me all about those false glimmers of hope, a stupid answer from a failed Servant, I can sense your taint your taint from here, human-" as Mash recoiled with a pained look on her face, the Ruler turned toward the Saint, "But why would I expect any better of a member of your flock? You die, and the first thing you do is go crawling to some new Master, living in your ignorant little bubble instead of making your own decisions, forever the fool, Jeanne d'Arc, but I cast your taint away and chose to destroy the systems that led to my death, your owner was merely the start, and the nation shall follow once you've expired."

...

Meanwhile

The countryside burned, with raging flames spreading in all directions, consuming fields of unkept crops, their owners long since deceased. At the center of the devastation lay a veritable cavern of charred earth and mud, with a figure laid out on his back, arms outstretched to the side before slowly raising a hand, pinching the soot out from between his eyes, revealing their narrow blue color to the world once more, opening and closing his jaw, feeling as though he had just punched himself in the face, he could only stare up at the clouds, feeling both angry and embarrassed for letting that happen, only grateful his father hadn't been there to see that, knowing he would've never heard the end of it, probably some speech on how protecting others would only get him killed...yeah, that sounded about right, Trunks let out a sigh, sinking just a bit deeper into the muck, "crapbaskets."

It was a lose-lose situation; Trunks had no idea what his allies were capable of; sure, he could've flickered behind the witch in a nanosecond, but he had no idea what that attack of hers would do to the Servants beside him. He definitely felt his own power swirling around inside of it; there were just too many risks involved to let it happen any other way. Besides, the Saiyan couldn't live with himself knowing he could've acted but didn't; it wasn't in his nature to stand by, and the fallen Saint had made her intentions clear; she wasn't going to stop until the entire world burned with her, he'd kill her here and now.

He gripped a fist tight, feeding into his anger as energy surged within him, engulfing the warrior in a blinding white light as the ground around him began to shake, exploding out of his tomb and into the skies above, leaving a crater in his wake, his mind set on ending this insanity.

...

At the same time

As if on instinct, Mash ran forward, planting herself between Jeanne and her dark counterpart, her shield raised high as every muscle in her body clenched for an inevitable impact. The dragon witch could only let out a laugh of bemusement, poking the defensive tool with the tip of her sword, the sound of scraping metal sending shivers through the demi-human, "And what is that going to do exactly?" A flame ignited in the gap between her shield and the ground, the shock forcing the Chaldean to slam the device down, only for the fallen icon to push further into her mind, "What I see before me are two failures, two abominations that shouldn't exist."

She raised a finger as a swirl of spiraling black stakes materialized overhead, rotating around the pair as the Ruler gently strolled about, dragging her sword along the ground as it cleaved through solid stone, only to give Jeanne a sidelong glance of contempt as she stared up at the weapons with wide eyes, "Are you starting to remember my dear Saint, those stakes they attached us to? Why do you tremble at their sight? I thought you placed your trust in the almighty; shouldn't he protect you?"

She shifted toward Mash as the defender braced herself once again, ready to defend against any strike from above as the tools of war circled them like vultures following a dying beast, "Or will you claim that God sent you this creature, a Servant with no potential, no power to call her own," her laugh turned manic, "How fitting, a Saint without a soul followed by a Servant with no potential, I'd say it's a match made in heaven, were I still a believer."

Jeanne's grip around her polearm turned to iron; placing a free hand on Mash's shoulder, the martyr defiantly stared into her counterpart's gaze, "The children of God are imperfect, yet strive for perfection against the word of the serpent, for we put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." The moonlight seemed to shine around her as she spoke with utter certainty, "I do not fear my death as you do, for we are not the same person."

A vein pulsated on the sinner's head as she flashed her teeth, swiping a hand over the horizon as flames erupted around the battlefield, "Do not speak to me of his damned Holy Book of lies! You can't even think for yourself, so you hide behind his words, and we certainly aren't one and the same, for I pushed your weakness aside and took the reigns myself-" The Servants braced themselves as the weapons rapidly honed in, hovering just overhead, her enraged voice howling out for miles on end "I'll purge the rot here and now!"

*FWING

*BOOOOOOOM

A flicker of light flashed across the horizon before slamming down onto the roadway at untold speeds as dust swirled around them, only to be blasted away by a surge of white energy, revealing the Saiyan as he stood firm, coated in layers of ash and dirt, leveling a ferocious glare at the witch as her attack came to a sudden halt, her sneer of pride dissipating into legitimate confusion, her bewilderment growing all the while as Mash called out to the Master in relief, her gaze narrowed, "That's impossible! I've wiped out entire cities with my flames; how could-"

Trunks raised a hand, pointing it directly at the fallen icon, his blue eyes glowing with untapped power as his ki continued to rise, "Because you're weak-" he took a step forward, refusing to let the Ruler interrupt him, his glare only intensifying, "You think because you have a shred of power, that you can just do whatever the hell you want, that human lives mean nothing in this sick game of yours, but you're going to pay for every person you've killed."

Her blackened stakes shifted from their targets, hovering toward the Servant in a defensive line; their jagged edges faced the Saiyan, ready to fire at any moment as she regained her composure, letting out a sweet giggle, with all but her hearing it as a manic cackle, "And that's going to be you? You don't seem to understand; Vlad was a drop in the water compared to what I'm capable of; you might be more durable than the average human, but what good does that serve against your inevitable death?" She flicked a wrist as flames surged around her, scorching everything in the vicinity into molten slag, the sheer heat forcing Mash and Jeanne back as the sinner's hovering blades began to glow, "I've slaughtered men, women, and children, depopulating the barren wastes that we once called France, the most you can hope for is to humor me a mere few moments before your death."

Trunks' head dropped for a moment as images of his own destroyed future burned through his heart, remembering a pair of demented twins on the warpath with no end, "You're really just like them, aren't you?... Then I'll show you just how weak you are-" A sudden blast of wind erupted from the Saiyan as he released his energy; as the ground began to violently shake, he clenched his fists, facing the sky, "You're going to pay for what you've done, NOW I'M MAD!"

*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

White aura exploded off the halfling like an endless torrent of power, his purple locks shooting straight into the sky as he roared in anger, tearing through the entire city as every building shook as jagged cracks dragged along their surface, bringing them down with a thunderous explosion. The Dragon Witch winced as shockwaves blasted into her, pushing the sinner back along the ground as surrounding pressure seemed to skyrocket, nearly dragging her to her knees as her flames extinguished all around her; she could hardly breathe, focusing solely on the threat before her as he released his potential, the same power that had destroyed galactic conquerors, the fallen Saint stood as a pebble before the storm as a primal shiver ran down her spine, not understanding what was happening, unable to sense ki, she could feel the terror right down to her bones.

The alter stumbled back, bracing her arms against the onslaught of atmospheric wind, her golden orbs trying in vain to shut, only kept open through sheer willpower, only coming to a terrified rest as the razor-like air came to a stop, she could hardly focus on the swordsman as burning white energy clung to his form like an armor, and the moment he clenched a fist, she let loose, sending her blades at once, they soared through the skies at their target. Trunks hardly blinked, just staring at the tools of war as they came careening down; raising a hand, he clasped his sword, withdrawing it with the audible cry of dragging metal; it revealed itself as he gripped it with one hand, time seemed to slow as his veins pulsated, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

...

...

*FWING

With a single swing, her blades exploded into mere fragments, torn to shreds by the wind itself before even impacting against his silver blade; throwing the device into the air, he simply leaned to the side, letting it slide back into its container, he leveled a stare at the Servant, taking a step forward, then another as she recoiled, her entire form shaking as the murderous icon fought to stay still, yet found herself moving against her will, as if she was facing death itself, the sinner found herself feeling an emotion the young woman hadn't once endured since appearing, long since thought to have been discarded as trash, she was scared.

The shift was indescribable; one moment, the Master seemed as weak as any other human, only to release a level of energy the Saint didn't think possible, beyond her, beyond the entirety of their existence, as if she was standing before a sun, the very ground seemed to shake as he took a step forward. Suddenly her perspective changed, with reality warping into a chamber filled with the hate-filled gazes of the Clergymen and the mocking sneer of that fat bishop, only for the image to dissipate for a brief moment as the Saiyan approached.

She raised a hand defensively, only for her yellow eyes to widen as the killer realized she was trembling; his approach stalled for just a moment before taking off, flying over the ground as she stumbled back, losing control of her own voice, she swung her hands to the side, flinging a mixture of stakes and fire in his direction, only for the halfling to slap them to the side, shattering her attacks like glass, getting closer by the moment.

Trunks skidded to a stop, his boots dragging along the battered and broken ground, hand outstretched in front of the Ruler's face as a ball of explosive yellow energy burst into existence along his palm, his eyes briefly flickering a ferocious green, "You brought this on yourself!"

As the light grew brighter, the Servant's expression turned to one of sheer horror, her eyes wide and mouth hung open as she felt her skin beginning to burn, dragging back memories of her time latched to metallic stakes atop a pile of burning wood, forced to endure a firey death at the hands of those she once held dear, guided by an instinctive terror, her body dissipated into glowing yellow orbs as the attack struck true, losing its corporeal form before the Saiyan's very eyes, his attack going straight through where she once stood, impacting the ground as a colossal explosion overwhelmed the surrounding area, flying by where the church once stood and into the surrounding farmland, vaporizing miles upon miles of land in a split second as the entire nation seemed to shake.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

The light consumed the two Servants as they shielded their eyes, blinded by the golden flash as it burned its way across the desolate landscape, the very wind threatening to throw them into the maelstrom as they anchored down as the pair struggled to stay upright against an otherworldly force. Within moments, the shaking subsided, leaving them with a silence sporadically lined with the settling of the Earth and the collapse of nearby buildings; Mash slowly lowered her shield, half expecting the glow to remain, only to see utter devastation before her, where once stood a church with surrounding farmland in the distance, lay nothing, a burned, charred out crater stretching as far as could see into the horizon, her mind briefly wandering back to their first encounter in Fuyuki, it had only been a day, and she had nearly forgotten the almost terrifying amount of power her Master seemed to have, some small part of her had doubted she could even block a single barrage from the tainted Ruler, and he had slapped them aside like nothing with his bare hands, the Chaldean could only wonder how he got that str-

"Where the hell did she go!?"

Her Master's yell of disbelief seemed to shake the girl from her stupor; she turned to see him, hand to his forehead as he tried to scan into the distance to no avail; Mash ran through what had happened in her mind, using a lifetime of study at her disposal, only one thing seemed to make sense, "I...I think I know-" As he turned toward his Servants, she let out an involuntary sigh, never wanting to be the center of attention, awkwardly bobbing back and forth on her heels, "She must have used her spirit form to get away...it's how Lancer and Archer appear and disappear whenever they feel like it."

The Saiyan's gaze narrowed, his sense of bewilderment only growing by the moment, "So she's just gone?...I-" He let his hands slap against his sides in frustration, "I can't even sense her anymore...she's long gone."

Mash tried to raise a hand, only to have to stand on her tiptoes to give the halfling an awkward pat on the shoulder before stumbling onto her shield, "I'm sure she'll show herself again sooner or later, Senpai, but-" she looked over the layers of char across his clothes, her stare seeming to flicker somewhere else for a brief moment in a daze as if she remembered something, before she visibly shook it off, "are you sure you're okay?"

Trunks tried to brush the question off, but the look she was giving him made him pause, like she was actually worried about him, not something you get a lot of working with other Saiyans; the line was drawn between dead and alive most of the time in their lives. The halfling let his shoulders drop, deciding not to focus on the things he couldn't control, "I get you're all used to protecting people, but I've faced a lot worse than her my entire life-" he let out an awkward sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm fine, but...thanks."

Picking up her banner with a grimace atop her face, Jeanne strolled forward, taking a knee to pick up a charred piece of stained glass before it shattered into dust at her mere touch, "I see we've both made up our minds on what has to be done to with her," she glanced up toward the time traveler, "This isn't magecraft, even in my time what you're capable of simply isn't possible. Have you always wielded this kind of power?"

Trunks idly walked toward a resting piece of rubble, sitting along its surface, leaning on his knee, he looked toward the Saint and his Chaldean ally, "No, but you know how it goes; nothing makes you strong like hardship, being weak is a luxury I couldn't afford. I never said I was a mage, but that'll have to wait for later; for now, we need to figure out what to do going forward, not like there's much left here for us anyways."

"-I wouldn't be so sure."

Archer landed with the slightest crunch of resistance from the ground, standing upright his red waistcoat fluttered in the evening breeze, and his fist clenched as if he were holding something; he approached the group with the usual indifferent stare, his mind running on the efficiency of a veteran that had seen his share of conflict and then some, "We're being watched."

Mash tilted her head a bit at the statement, her lilac locks shifting about as gravity made them bounce along with the motion, "By one of Ruler's Servants?... Isn't that normal?"

The mysterious dual wielder shook his head, looking off toward a distant end of town; he spoke with an uncertainty unbecoming of someone of his standing, "No, I barely noticed it, a flicker out of the corner of my eye at best, they gave off practically no presence at all, and it couldn't have been anyone but Assassin, but Lancer had already driven her out of town."

Archer raised his closed fist, twirling some foreign object between his tan fingers, "It was some guard tower or other, hadn't been used in some time, but enough dust had shifted to let me know someone had been there; they left no trace, except this."

With the flick of a wrist, the tiny object sailed through the air toward the Saiyan; he caught it with hardly a glance, but as he opened his palm, his eyes narrowed; it was a little green cylinder with visible roots along the surface, almost as if they were veins of some kind, he looked up at the Emiya with a curious look in his eye, "A plant seed?"

Giving a slight nod, the Servant leaned back against a broken pillar, ignoring the crack from the fragmenting rock, he spoke, "Yeah, sitting on the floor as if it were dropped by mistake, one I haven't seen before; I'm hardly knowledgeable on the subject, but someone was there, and it couldn't have been one of her Servants, given the first two's rabid behavior, she has them on leashes if, and it were one of hers, they'd have jumped into the fray the second their owner got into trouble."

Trunks twiddled the object between his fingers, noting that it felt harder than a diamond, refusing to crack even a bit with more than enough force to do it; he gave the man a nod, sliding the seed into a sleeve along his coat, the halfling slowly stood, "I'll have to show it to Da Vinci when we get a hold of her, maybe she knows something about it, but in the meantime, we'll work on this until that Ruler makes her next appearance, think you could show us where you found it?" Getting the quickest thumbs up in recorded history, the Servant wordlessly made his way back into town, with the trio following him through the paths of destruction.

...

Hours Later

Perched atop a ramshackle border wall, marking the limits between the urban city and the rural countryside, the Saiyan bided his time, sitting perfectly still, his legs crossed together, his hands brought together, crossing his middle, index, and thumbs together while the other fingers retracted, his mind deep in thought, his eyes closed off to the world in silent meditation. Moments of calm and quiet were few and far between in the halfling's life, as if he were bouncing from one fight to the next or just waiting for one to happen as he was doing now, not like there was much else to do, and Trunks could hardly call himself a conversationalist, being by himself was simple, it gave him time to reflect and gather himself back up, being near others wasn't something the time traveler was used to, so these brief seconds of being alone helped him get by.

Everything seemed to be a big mystery to him; that lead Archer had brought them toward hadn't didn't bore much fruit, only giving him the seed resting in his pocket. The building wasn't much to look at, nor was there much left inside, but unlike the Servants, the fighter had senses far beyond what a human could detect; there was an odd smell about the place, almost animal-like, marked in very specific corners, with others completely untouched. Trunks was no Gohan, he couldn't claim to be a good investigator, but years of scavenging the wastelands of Earth taught him to be aware of details; the scents weren't strongest at a window facing the center of town but at an old wooden table of all things, as if the person was content to merely sit by and observe, leaving as soon as they had gotten what they wanted, but what was it?...and how did that plant fit into all of this?...

Every theory seemed to melt away after a second of thought, even with his limited knowledge of Servants; if the other Jeanne was a Ruler, she should've been able to sense whoever was here, but she didn't so much as look in its direction even once, the Saiyan had run through his memory of their encounter over and over again in his battle-hardened mind...then again, she hadn't shown herself since fleeing at the last second, still completely off the radar, leaving them in the dark as he sat by his lonesome combing through the information-

*Clack

The sound of a rock clattering against the ground shook the halfling out of his thoughts as one of the Servants hopped up beside him, kicking their feet over the ledge with an audible scrape. His eyes remained closed, trying to retain the slightest bit of focus as his senses returned to reality, "Got tired of hanging out with Jeanne?"

Mash rested a palm along the platform, choosing not to ask how he knew it was her without so much as budging; she looked off into the distant fields, choosing to focus her energy on the portions that weren't completely obliterated, "She wanted some time to pray, so I thought I'd give her a little space...I think she's mad at you about the church."

A cool breeze washed over the hybrid, dragging his tied-up purple locks along for the ride as he took in the fresh air, "Can a Saint even get mad? I thought their whole thing was to be a moral mentor or something?"

The Chaldean tilted her head, turning toward her new Master as she placed her hands atop her knees, giving off a slight laugh, "I think that's the first thing I've said that you've actually understood; Catholics still exist in your time, Senpai?"

Deciding to abandon his meditation, he slowly opened his eyes to the world once again, "Them and about every other major religion you can probably think of, but it's...sort of different for us, sure, people have their own beliefs, but we don't really talk about it as openly as Jeanne or the others, what about you?... You seem pretty interested in that Saint."

Twiddling her thumbs, Mash awkwardly looked away with a downtrodden look on her face, "It's that obvious?...-" her head slightly dropped as she tried to curl into her shell, "...growing up in Chaldea, it was all work, day in day out, and I was never good at any of it, but... in my free time, I liked to read about great adventures, and people and...pretend I was there, I know it's stupid but-"

Trunks shook his head, his gaze briefly falling to the sword strap along his chest, the one reminder he had left of a friend the teen had lost but couldn't bring himself to forget, "There's nothing stupid about wanting something better for yourself, you know how many times I dreamed of meeting my dad, or any of the other incredible people my mom talked about?... I practically couldn't believe it when I finally saw him for the first time."

The Servant hummed, kicking her legs back and forth against the breeze, "Star struck?... It's how I feel whenever I'm even around Jeanne; I read every book about her I could find, but honestly, she's not at all what I pictured." Mash smiled up at nothing in particular, "She's fearless and cares about everyone so much it's almost crazy, but I never pictured her having...doubts...I don't know, was your dad what you imagined when you met?"

For the first time, Trunks gave off a light laugh at the question, to the demi-human's surprise, watching as he seemed to perk up at the mere mention of the man the swordsman seemed to idolize, "Not at all... I was always told that he was fierce, the kind of person that wouldn't back down from anything, always trying to be the strongest no matter what, and he was, but I had no idea what I was getting into." he looked up at the stars, idling wondering what the man was doing now, "My father is one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, he's rude, arrogant, and more prideful than anyone could ever imagine, I won't lie, he frustrated the hell out of me sometimes, but I think that's what made people respect him."

Trunks sat there, remembering his year in the time chamber with his father and the realization that the burning heat, the frigid cold, the relentless pressure that threatened to break him down to the last molecule, it hadn't come from the room, but his father, even from so far away, the halfling could feel the man's determination, it inspired him to want more, to do justice by the dad he had finally found. "He never sat by, not even for a moment, and even when he claimed to hate everyone and everything we stood for, he was always the first one to react, the first one to try and push his limits to overcome the next hurdle...He might not have been what I expected, but I'm proud to say Vegeta is my dad; it might help to drop the hero card and see what Jeanne is like as a person."

Mash squinted a bit at his father's strange name, swearing in the back of her head that he had just said the word 'vegetable,' but the thought was still sweet; maybe she and Jeanne could really be friends? Maybe she was thinking about Servants as figures and not people? She opened her mouth to respond, only for the sound of static to cut her off as a prone figure materialized beside the Saiyan as data particles coalesced, producing a shimmering pair of arm-length gloves, traveling upward amidst a set of pale skin overlaid with the usual layers of emblazoned capes and finery, laying on her stomach, face propped against her palms as they rested on her elbows, and with the sweetest smile, Da Vinci spoke with the certainty and professionalism of an inventor of her esteem, "...Is he single?"

Before the genius' words could even settle in, the groggy yet determined voice of the Doctor rang out from somewhere in the background, "Stop laying on the console!" the scientist jolted, falling out of sight as she audibly crashed to the floor below, as the sound of rolling wheels grew louder, only for new Director to take her place, looking down in pity from his cushioned throne, "You know, this is why the Animuspheres never let you in here."

A finger shot up from below, holding an undamaged and completely full mug of what could only be hot coffee, "Need I remind you who jailbroke your console to go on those lewd websites of yours?... What would the UN have to say about that, I wonder?" The hand briefly retracted, only to shoot up again, "You're jealous."

The exhausted Archaman shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response; I am a professional and hold myself to a higher standard than something you would call lewd," Trunks had no idea what they were even talking about, but Mash silently realized that the Doctor didn't deny the allegation...

Breaking the awkward silence, the Italian engineer reached up, clasping around the desk until she found a hold, pulling herself up with a thunderous bounce and a flutter of her cape, placing both hands on her hips, she gave her usual enthusiastic smile, "Now then, with the connection established, what sort of progress have we made so far?"

Mash interjected before the Saiyan could even think of a formal response, leaning in front of him to get a better view of the inventor, "We engaged the enemy a few hours prior, confirming the existence of another Jeanne d'Arc, but this one seems to be the antithesis of her story-" She nodded toward the new Master as he awkwardly tried to shift out of the way of their conversation, leaning back as far as humanly possible, "Senpai drove her off, and we plan to wait for daylight before pursuing."

Deciding to get involved, Trunks reached into his jacket, pulling out the object Archer had found, raising it toward the shimmering apparition, "There might be a third party involved in this; I was hoping to ask if either of you knew something about this, it looks normal, but it has an energy signature higher than any plant I've seen."

Romani leaned back in his chair, counting his fingers as he raised them one by one, "...That might be a trickier subject than you think; our botanists vanished with most of the staff; heck, we were just talking about making new Singularities to gather supply-"

Da Vinci idly raised a boot, giving the Doctor's throne a gentle push, sending him rolling out of frame with a cry and a crash as it careened over, sending him tumbling as she leaned closer toward the screen, "...You know, I can't say much from here...but..." she hummed, glancing toward the fallen Director, "It looks like an egg, I call dibs!" looking back toward the halfling as if she didn't just claim a project for herself, the Italian faked a cough, tilting her head around the screen to get a better angle, "I was never one to really study plants, but I'll give it a crack once you're back~" she sing-songed in pride at her own rhyme.

Trunks nodded along, knowing that sometimes you just had to go with the flow around an excentric scientist when they did their thing, but as he slid the seed back into his pocket, the hybrid felt the marks along his arm lightly sting from the motion, looking back at the inventor he spoke, "Do you mind if I ask something?" She gave him the usual energy-filled nod with a hum; he reached up, pulling off his sword strap, placing the device beside him, "I'm sure by now you've noticed I'm not...normal, and I'll explain it all someday, but something's been bothering me since I fell into your timeline."

The time traveler slid off his jacket, leaving him in just his black tank top; When I said I was born stronger than most people, I meant it; my skin is bulletproof, normal weapons don't even scratch me, I've been shot, stabbed, slashed, even thrown into an active volcano, and nothing." Shifting where he sat, the halfling raised his arm, showing exposing the puncture marks along his skin, "This shouldn't happen."

Trunks sat there a moment, expecting some kind of reaction from the inventor, but instead, the woman just casually sat there, lazily sipping her coffee with her usual composure; mid-sip, she paused, giving him a light stare as her eyes poked out from above the mug, "Easy, you're underestimating what Servants are capable of when you barely know their names,-" Da Vinci raised her head, tilting her head with a smile, "We might not be able to fly or shoot pew pew lasers...well...some of us can...but we're pretty tough too you know?"

The Saiyan bristled, thinking he had accidentally come off as rude; rubbing a hand along his arm, he looked down, "...Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out how to counter it; I'm not sure what can and can't hurt me at this point."

Rising from his grave, Romani leaned back, his back giving off a painful crunch before shambling forward, lazily leaning against an unseen desk behind the inventor, his eyes even more slumped, as if he had taken a power nap in that brief moment, "...Knowledge is power and all that, and here's a suggestion-" the Israelite suppressed a yawn, "Mash wants to get stronger...you wanna get smarter...collaborate."

Mash jumped in her seat with a squawk, her attitude doing a complete one-eighty the second the Archaman crossed her ire; she jolted to her feet, blitzing past the Saiyan, nearly knocking even him off the ledge, getting in the tired man's face who didn't even seem to know where he was, "I was going to ask him when I was ready!"

He seemed to stare at the girl for a second before his mind clicked into motion; raising a transparent hand, the Doctor rested it on her shoulder, "Mash, you know we love you...but you would've just sat in your room and thought about it for the next two weeks and not-" he stumbled, "not said...-" Da Vinci vanished into the background for a moment, "not said a worrrrrrd-"

The new Director fell back into a chair as the tinkerer slid it in his direction, with him immediately falling into an exhausted slumber. Da Vinci shook her head, clicking her tongue in disappointment, "How sad, three days and he's already out like a rock...and he calls himself my equal?... As if." She puffed her chest out in pride at her own accomplishment before glancing toward the monitor, "Well, I guess we'll check back in later; I have...totally not sharpie-related things to do-" she gave an exaggerated wink and a wave at the camera, "bye-bye!"

*FZZZZZ

The image disappeared as soon as it arrived, leaving Trunks confused as Mash stood above him, just staring off into space, unable to refute what the Doctor had said, but unwilling to acknowledge it either, he decided to take the reigns, "Are they always like this?"

Mash deadpanned, looking off into the sky as if she were looking for some nonexistent escape from embarrassment, "Director Marie banned them from being in the same room for more than five minutes if that answers your question."

He only nodded in silent understanding as Mash let out a huff and a quiet grumble; sitting back down beside the hybrid, her face tucked into her knees, he looked toward her, "So, what kind of training did you have in mind?"

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, "You're that ready to agree to it?-" As the halfling gave her a nod, Mash continued with a sigh, "I don't know, I watch all of you do this stuff like it's so simple. Meanwhile, I'm stuck swinging a shield I hardly know how to use...I just want to be useful, I want...-" she shifted, facing him with a determined look in her purple eyes, "I want to unlock my phantasm."

Trunks gave her a slow nod; he never thought anyone would want him as a trainer; there was no way the time traveler could teach anything advanced, hardly stepping into that realm himself, but getting stronger and showing off a few basics? Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem; it was only fair. The warrior put a hand against the platform, jumping to his feet with a burst of ki; he looked down at the Chaldean, his expression growing firm as he reached out a hand, "My mentor was pretty ruthless when it came to our sessions, he wanted me to fight him like I was trying to kill him, that's the bare minimum I expect from you, can you do it?"

Mash seemed to pause in her tracks, a strange look overcoming her features as her eyes dulled for just a moment, but it disappeared as soon as it arrived, replaced by an expression of true grit as her eyes narrowed, she reached out to clasp his hand, "I won't let you down, Senpai!" Getting pulled to her feet, Trunks let go, grabbing his jacket before hopping down into the town below, his back facing her, "Good, then we'll start tomorrow morning."

Mash raised a hand to object but held herself, instead choosing to clench a fist as her mind ran into overdrive, flickering through data and information with the skill of a trained historian, "Then your first lesson is when we get back to Chaldea, deal?"

As Mash dropped down beside the Saiyan, the duo stood there staring into the empty city, nearly pitch black as the fires had finally burned themselves out; he crossed his arms, staring into that dimly lit void, his alien senses allowing him to see for miles into the eerie night, "Sure, but forewarning, I never went to school."

Mash slowly turned to stare at him, her eyes wide as if she just heard something absurd, "...What?"

*FWOOOOM

A sudden dust cloud came roaring through the city at breakneck speeds, appearing as little more than a whirling ball of blue surrounded by dust, only for the mysterious figure to slam their heels against the roadway, dragging themself to a stop, the cloud partially settled, revealing Lancer as the man casually dropped two large objects to the ground with an unceremonious thud, he casually gave the Saiyan a two finger salute, "Yo!-" letting his hand drop, the Celt gave a forced whistle as he looked around town, acting as though he hadn't just been here, "I'm surprised you lot are still mulling about here, you know what they say about camping near a grave site...-" The Servant deadpanned, "it's rude."

Disregarding the Celt's sudden energy, Trunks shook off a sigh, "At this point, we were just waiting for you to get back; what were you even doing out there?"

The spearman clicked his tongue as though a sour thought had come to mind; crossing his blue-coated arms over his chest, he spoke with the thunder of a honed warrior, "...damned vampire could run like boar on those heels-" he let out an irritated groan, "She disappeared as I was chasing her down, but it wasn't a complete waste, for I the mighty hunter, have saved two wandering souls!"

Lancer stared down at the ground as if he were expecting something to rise from the cloud of dust, but the only sound that escaped was a weak cry about being covered in dirt from a high-pitched voice; the other just lay there unresponsive. Seconds ticked by before the Gael sent a light kick from his boot to the side, failing to whisper, "Oy...we practiced this-" he seemed to nod as a whisper escaped, followed by a final bellow of energy from the spearman, "Behold, the great Marie Antoinette!"

Sparkles seemed to appear out of nowhere as the figure shot straight upward, spinning on a single heel as the dust cloud gave way, revealing a small yet dazzling young woman wearing the finest clothing fashion had to offer, her red dress practically glowing in a radiant light, her light blue eyes shimmered with glee as she watched Mash clap her hands together in excitement, this was it, this was her moment of tri-

*Pomph

A hand gently patted the top of the Servant's hat, grinding her show to a complete halt as Trunks casually dismissed her entire existence; giving the Rider a reassuring smile, the halfling spoke, "Well, I'm glad at least one kid survived this ordeal-" her eyes went white as her world seemed to shatter, the other Servants, including the one that had previously just been comatose, seemed to rise before going as frigid as a statue. The time traveler, none the wiser, idly strolled off into town, "Come on, we better set up camp in the woods; we have an early wake-up."

Mash could only watch as the former queen of France sunk to her knees, her eyes lightly watering as she faced the ground, muttering something about her Senpai thinking she was a kid, ignoring Lancer as he tried to pat her on the back, saying he thought they did a good job. The Chaldean could only watch her Senpai's back as he walked further away, swearing that she was going to teach him everything she knew about history; no matter what, gripping a fist, she took off after him.

...

That same night

Colorful particles spiraled down from the sky, gathering together as a pair of black metallic boots clambered down, only to give way as their owner fell to their knees, panting as beads of sweat trickled to the green grass below, taking sharp breaths that did little to assuage the relentless thumping of their heart. The alter's yellow gaze dulled as her vision clouded over as her mind relived that moment on the wooden pyre over and over again, watching as her executioner held a torch high, its glow sending shivers through her very soul, only for the image to distort, the figure replaced by the purple-haired Master that threw her power aside as if she were a chewing toy, his palm outstretched, reflecting the same damnable light that consumed her that fateful day.

Her hands tightened, tearing through the ground as plumes of smoke rose around the fallen Saint, turning the once vibrant green of her surroundings into an ashen grey, burning through her illusion; the sound of flowing water brought the Ruler out of her stupor, gazing up she saw the familiar tapestry of fountains adorning the front of an elegant Cathedral, its wooden doors lay wide open as darkness consumed the interior, sporadically lit by billowing flames from within. Even as terror flowed through the Servant, she forced herself to rise on shaking feet, her yellow eyes gleaming in both anger and fear as she tried to collect herself, causing a shift toward her usual, caustic demeanor; the killer began a slow, yet steady walk, her entire facade threatening to give way by the moment, a single goal driving her forward.

Marching through the old oaken doorway, the fallen Saint sneered at a distant alter laden along its sides with ornate tabernacles, each holding an image of the stations of the cross within the stained glass windows resting overhead, she spat, knowing there was no salvation to be had, for she was the embodiment of apocalypse, the force that would bring creation to its knees. As she walked across the stone floor, each step echoed out for miles for a Cathedral without a crowd for mass, its staff all but slain the moment she had arrived, but still, a thunderous cry rang out from within the depths, popping into existence behind her, as though the person had been standing by the entrance, awaiting nothing more than her return, "Ah, the Holy Maiden has returned, how has-"

*FWOOM

Fire exploded around the Saint in a torrent, overwhelming the wooden pews as they caught alight, the glow illuminating the Ruler as a single golden orb flickered toward the man awaiting her response, her words reflecting nothing more than malice, "One more word, Giles, and they'll collect what remains of you in a dust bin."

The cloaked Caster did not flinch, nor did he react in fear, instead giving a pleased smile, stretching far across his face as his coal-black eyes bulged outward; he bowed in reverence, a single hand leaving his demented tome of writhing souls as he bid the woman farewell with an open palm, she did not react, her gaze only hardening as she marched onward, passing through hallway after hallway of whatever decor they hadn't destroyed, ignoring the stains of blood along the walls with an irk of annoyance, remembering what had happened to the Count a mere few hours ago, one of her strongest underlings, destroyed in a matter of seconds. She let out a growl, pausing at a simple doorway facing the closed entrance; she spoke with absolute authority, "Archer."

*Fwish

The Servant appeared behind the sinner in an instant; she didn't care to look her in the eye, they were all beneath her, but at least this one had the decency to not waste time eating her victims like the hunger-crazed vampires in her service. Her tone darkened as she could picture the animal-like Spirit forcing herself to not back away; hearing her tail instinctively recoil brought the slightest spark of glee to the Ruler, knowing that those under her command still feared her; gripping the handle, she barked out a simple order, "You will not let any enter, or you'll deal with me."

As soon as the once-martyr entered her chambers, she slammed the door shut with an audible crash as old wood broke beneath her might, leaving her alone in the Bishops former quarters, redesigned to suit her needs, having thrown out the minority of religious items had left the young woman with quite a few luxuries, she slowly approached an ornate desk, sliding back its cushioned chair, she sank into its confines, a set of candles igniting through her will alone, blanketing the chamber in a dim light.

The sinner took a slow breath, placing her armored hands down atop the material, only for her digits to start uncontrollably shaking, her facade of cool-headed bravado giving way to an endless torrent of anger, a deep rage at any who dared to get in her way, to throw her around as if SHE were nothing! The Heroic Spirit's ears started to ring as that Master's face burned its way into her mind, a faint whisper growing louder and more apparent by the second, 'Because you're weak,' over and over and over again...weak, her? The woman that slaughtered a nation, she who conquered death, the one who broke through her delusions of God and chose to take her own course, SHE WAS WEAK?!"

*CRASH

Her chair exploded as the dragon witch shot up, her fist crashing through her desk, shattering it into pieces as the candles fell atop the pile, sending sparks along the ground as she tore her way through the chamber, burning and tearing everything in her path as bookshelves, entire collections of texts, and every piece of decor fell to the ground, the entire room going dark, leaving her alone in her rampage, within minutes, the finery was gone, replaced by a desolate and destroyed bedroom, lit only by the moonlight shining in through a cracked window, having done what she had to her nation, the sinner stood there, facing the ground, her teeth exposed as she silently rage-

*Click

Her yellow orbs slowly shifted as the light from the hallway began to peak in as the door creaked open; smoke gathered around her armor as the surrounding floor seared a charred black; she raised a hand toward the entrance, her digits nearly glowing with rage, "I TOLD I WOULD-"

*Bump-Bump

The first to enter was Archer's head, her green eyes bulging outward, a layer of spittle dragging down her face, fangs barred at an unseen threat beyond the veil, a colossal fist gripped around her neck as she thrashed, her arms swinging wildly, until one hit the door at just the right angle, allowing it to creak open, a voice ringing out as a familiar, overwhelming pressure consumed the atmosphere, its sheer force threatening to make the Ruler's knees buckle and give way, a figure appeared, overshadowed by the light of the hallway, taking up the entire entrance with their giant form, their voice echoed, deep and filled with a pride and contempt that left even the corrupted Servants reeling, "It's always the low-class warriors that fight over table scraps-"

He took a step forward, illuminating his features as a set set of sharpened nails clawed against his face, only to break off on contact before retracting in pain; with a playful chuckle, his grip tightened, raising his hostage high as bones audibly bent and warped as Archer cried out, yet he spoke with the same indifference, looking not at her, but at the fallen Saint, his narrow, coal black eyes sending shockwaves of fear and realization through her, the same eyes that Master had, "Though, I can't help but respect your work, few if any have what it takes to cull off their own race."

Driven by both fear and rage, the Servant lashed out an open palm, feeling the familiar twinge of heat between her fingers, flames engulfed the air before her, rocketing toward the unknown assailant, threatening to consume both him and her own ally, but time seemed to slow as he casually raised a free hand, bulging to the brim with layers of hardened muscle, swiping down with an almost casual swing crashing straight through her attack, impacting against her arm with a sickening crunch as every bone in the limb shattered into dust, her own flames spiraling into the ceiling, engulfing the surrounding area in flames, illuminating his form to the world as she fell to the floor, clutching the broken limb as pain coursed through her.

The warrior stood tall; his hulking form lay concealed behind the protective confines of his billowing white cloak, hanging off the right side of his body; the few bits exposed from his raised arms revealed a bizarre suit of armor, with jutting edges shooting out over his shoulders, with dangling pieces hovering just over his legs, but a brief flicker of movement drew her gaze toward a brown tail, much like Archer's own, wrapped around his waistline. She struggled to shift her head upward, but as she did, the fallen icon could only gaze into the all too familiar, rectangular eyes of her assailant as he leveled her with a glare; an unseen breeze through a broken window sent shimmers through his gravity-defying black hair as it shot out in every direction.

The floor creaked as he slowly approached, his victim's strikes toward his face growing frenzied as he drew closer to her summoner, yet his focus lay solely on the damned Saint as she sat on her knees, opening his mouth to speak revealed a set of sharpened canines, granting a predatory status to his already overwhelming presence, "Pathetic-" his leg kicked back at blinding speeds before blasting forward, impacting against the Servant's exposed stomach, shattering her ribs as a spray of blood and spittle erupted from her mouth, the force sending her flying back into a broken heap of furniture, he trudged forward, each step like a thunder strike before raising a boot, pressing down on her torso with an audible crunch, and she lurched back in agony, he spoke, "Do you have any idea how many of your kind I've killed to find you-"

*CRACK

The floor gave way as the sinner went crashing through, a crater forming around her as the man pressed harder; she opened her mouth to scream but refused to let even a sound out, instead reaching back with her good arm, she tore through the rocks with her bare fist, yet his assault refused to relent, "It's almost laughable how simple it all was, you Servants claim to be of a higher yoke, yet-" another crack rang out as a burst of viscera escaped the witch, "You break quite easily, don't you?... Though I must say, your willingness to sacrifice your own is admira-

With a scream of rage, she lunged upward, ignoring the pain of her shattered bones and liquified organs, Ruler's palm opened before the man's exposed face, engulfing his entire body in a blast of unholy fire, ignoring the whimpering cries of her Servant, she watched as smoke engulfed his body, waiting for the pressure against her to subside, only for the cloud to dissipate, revealing an unscathed grin, his tone shifting oh so slightly toward the positive, "...better."

As the unknown warrior lifted his leg up, the alter took a shaking breath, only to fall into a coughing fit as she rolled onto her side, feeling the unpleasant pop of her bones realigning as it drained her resources; raising her head, she ignored the trickle of blood going down her pale face, "...you have the same eyes as him-" she spat toward the ground, "and you're just as much a piece of shit...what the hell do you wa-"

*BOOM

Her moment of reprieve was shattered as another boot impacted against her head, sending the Ruler flying across the room, slamming back first into a wall, embedding herself into it as her yellow eyes shot open in pain, the cloaked figure remained where he was, his voice turning to iron, "Do not compare me to a halfbaked welp like him again!" He gripped a fist tight, turning on his heels, dragging Archer as she sputtered in his grasp, his black eyes staring down at the tyrannical Servant like an endless void, "Trunks is little more than a fool that's opened a door for us...as for what I want..."

His tail visibly began to twitch and writhe against his armor, its end bouncing up and down without any rhyme or reason, "Well, it's what every creature across existence wants, I suppose..." He looked out the window, glancing over the moonlight horizon, carefully avoiding the object as though it posed some unknown risk, "I entered your false reality a mere few days ago; I'm sure you took notice, those settlements on the periphery reduced to little more than holes in the ground?-" Pulling Archer close, the man inspected the maddened glaze in her eyes as she tried to snap at his face like an animal, "Or were you so busy trying to corral these creatures that you simply chalked it up to their doing out of your own stupidity? Because you don't seem to grasp your own ineptitude, dragged even further into the mire by the whims of others, unable to achieve your single goal of destruction."

Raising the Servant high, he allowed her to kick, bite, and flail against him to no avail, not even budging the man an inch; he instead turned his head toward the sinner, his hardened features becoming grim, his voice growing dark, "Listen well, loyalty is weakness, reliance on any is strength not yet tapped, if the world doesn't bend to your whims, then trample over it!"

*SQUELCH

With a simple squeeze, his fist closed completely around Archer's neck, decapitating her with the sheer power behind his grip; her head fell to the ground below as her body slumped over, igniting into purple flame as the warrior crushed what remained beneath his boot, "What I crave...no...what I need is power, the strength to not merely enslave a world, but to rule the universe itself, and for that, I want you to keep struggling in vain as long as possible." He raised a hand to the sky, "I've never seen such static energy just waiting to be taken; I need time to prepare to harvest it all once this place begins to recede; if my plans come to fruition, I'll take it all for myself and grow that much closer to what I desire."

The alter forced out a laugh, her teeth stained red as she limply looked at him from the ground, not even trying to get up, but instead giving a darkened smile from below, "You can go to hell; what makes you think I'll go along with this stupid idea of yours if I'm already dead."

His grin grew, flashing his fangs once more; the mysterious fighter reached a hand into his cloak, gripping an unseen object as he spoke, "Because you're afraid of death-" he saw her stiffen just a bit, the sight making him nod along in glee, "Oh yes, Saint Jeanne d'Arc...burned alive after being captured, why your race chooses to worship a failure like yourself I'll never know...oh well, you can torture another species for information all you wish, but I suppose you'll never understand them, differences and all that...the first two were little more than pests, but the other? He was a funny one, that Siegfried... tried to tell me I was better than this as if those terms mean anything; both you and I know only your own motivations matter; if you didn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."

He slowly approached the sinner as she tried to back further into her crevice; crouching before her on eye level, he stared straight into her soul, "What I offer isn't salvation, but something tells me you wouldn't want that anyways, instead, I'll grant you the mercy of choosing your own death...why stop at a country, when you can drag the whole planet to hell with you? Push back that clock as far as you can, so you can keep running from what's to come."

Ruler just weakly stared at him, her yellow eyes shimmering as he picked her apart piece by piece with just words alone, feeling as though she were utterly worthless to whatever kind of demon stood before her, "...I'm not strong enough, so you might as well take that deal and shove it where it hurts...I'd have already killed them all if I could have."

He stared at her a moment, his expression uncaring for the damage he had caused, if anything the man seemed to relish in the terror she felt for him and what he was capable of, "What you call impossible can happen with a simple choice-" withdrawing his hand from his cloak, the warrior held a red spike sphere, the alter's gaze narrowed at it...a fruit? "It takes an entire planet to produce one of these, but with the power of an entire zone of time caving in? I could make as many as I dream of. Were you to take a single bite, you would have more than enough strength to torch this entire world; you're going to die once more; it's the natural order of things, that boy will outclass you even with this gift, but you'll take everything with you... a final act of retribution against the God that abandoned you."

The alter simply stared at the object, thinking back to a life of nothing but sacrifice, trying to desperately help the people and nation she loved above all else, only to lose and be betrayed by those very people, turning her heart to coal as she realized the cruelty and futility of it all, thinking she finally had the means to take her revenge, only to discover she was still weak. She glared at the Saiyan, having nothing but hatred for him and the purple-haired swordsman...Trunks burned into her heart, denying her what should rightfully be hers; the life she deserved was taken away once again...she slowly raised a hand, clasping it around the fruit as the man grinned, letting it fall into her grasp, the wanderer stood upright, turning away, he spoke, "It's better to be feared than to be thought of as a fool, struggle on with your futile task, human."

As he disappeared through the doorway, the Ruler's body seemed to give out as the fruit rolled out of her hand and into her lap; she stared down at it, her own blood trickling onto its surface before slumping over as her body gave out, dreaming of her simple days as a farm girl...a single thought bouncing through her mind before losing out to unconsciousness, were they really hers?

...

Early in the Morning

A figure lay amidst a sea of flowing green grass, their arms crossed behind their head as a makeshift pillow, their purple hair fluttering along with the rising winds, lightly snoring, their mouth hung open, lost in the world of slumber, uncaring for whether or not they were in the outdoors, having long since been used to the wilderness from a young age, a voice quietly rang out nearby, causing a slight shift.

"Oy...red bastard, come look at this."

The sound of slowly approaching footsteps reverberated for a brief moment before coming to a stop, an indifferent monotone breaking out, "What?"

The former's energetic voice came out in a silent hush, "...You know how we fought those vampires last night?"

A lazy hum of agreement broke out, followed by the man's voice continuing where he left off, "See...I was watching him fight off the white one...Dracula-"

Archer chimed in, "Vlad III."

"Shut up! Everyone calls him Dracula anyways; stop trying to sound smart...anyways, I saw the bastard sink his teeth into our boss' arm before he exploded."

"I don't see why this matters."

Lancer growled in frustration before silencing himself, "...You know, this is why I can't stand you...you're always so damn negative-" he let off a sigh, "look-"

"Look at what?"

Lancer took what could only be described as the longest inhale of his life, "look at his damn teeth and tell me what's wrong."

Archer seemed to crouch, leaning back and forth as the Saiyan bobbed about in his sleep, humming in the most scientific way possible, "...they're sharp."

Lancer squeezed between his eyes, "Yeah, no shit, they're sharp; he has fangs!"

"...So do you."

He huffed in annoyance, looking up at the sky as clouds passed overhead, soon coming back down, "No, I have what ladies call a wolf-like charm; a little bite does wonders-" he pointed down, "THOSE are blood-sucking fangs!"

Crossing his arms, Archer let off a sigh, raising his fingers one by one, he spoke with static indifference, "One, no woman has ever said that to you; two, you're an idiot; and three, how do you even know they're real, I never took you as a coward that cries wolf on his own Master."

Lancer pulled his hair, growling into the sky before facing his red counterpart, "Oh, is that so? Then I'll just have to prove it to you-" Dropping into a squat, he angled his hand, aiming a finger down toward the snoring halfling.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, Lancer used the wisdom of a great scientist, "If he's really a vampire, then he'll instinctively try to bite me in his sleep."

"That's not a thing...also, the sun is out, wouldn't he be du-" Archer seemed to pause, his tone shifting, "You know what? Do it; prove me wrong."

The Celt let out a humph of victory, carefully aiming a hand as beads of sweat trickled down his face, ignorant that the halfling was stirring in his sleep, lowering his hand down inch by inch, "Easy...easy..."

*Drip

A droplet of sweat fell off the man's hand, slapping against the Saiyan's forehead; his body reacted on instinct, honed through a lifetime of conflict to respond to any threat, awake or not, Trunks' moved at breakneck speeds, his elbows buckling as his knee slammed upward, crashing straight into the spearman's stomach, its indentation going out of his back, sending him flying across the field, landing in a heap some distance away, utterly KO'd as the hybrid lazily sat up, unaware of what just happened, he popped his shoulders, lazily looking about, "...Morning Archer."

The Emiya had the faintest of smiles on his face as he looked over into the distance at his rival's unconscious body; turning toward his new Master, the man adopted the usual static expression he wore, "Sleep well?"

Trunks shrugged, hopping to his feet as he stretched away any lingering discomfort, "Four hours is a good night for me; been a while since I got to camp out in the woods-" glancing over to where the Servant had just been looking, the swordsman tilted his head, seeing the fallen Celt's eyes bulged out of proportion as foam trickled out of his mouth, "Lancer's out like a rock, didn't know you guys needed to sleep."

The Servant shook his head, raising a tan palm upward, "With Heroic Spirits, we technically don't need to do a lot of things, but could you imagine not eating or sleeping when you did those things for practically all your life?"

A shiver racked the Saiyan's body as he gripped his stomach in terror, not being capable of imagining such a horrific thing; soon shaking the thought away, the hybrid spoke again, "Yeah, that sounds pretty bad; how about you? Do you like doing any of that stuff still?"

The Servant's grey eyes glanced toward the ground in idle thought, closing before reopening as he looked skyward, "I was never one to sleep much, but I do like a nice tea every now and then, maybe once we're back in that facility we can brew a pot and have a chat-" he gave another slight smile looking off at nothing in particular, "It's been some time since I've gotten to cook a proper meal."

Trunks seemed to perk up at the mere mention of food, raising his fists in a rare sign of excitement, "That sounds great. Were you any good at it?"

Archer seemed to take a moment, running a hand through his hair as though he were remembering something, spacing out into his mind before reorienting with a shrug of dismissal, "...I've been told as much, but don't worry, I've dealt with appetites almost as bad as your kind's before, you'll see what I'm made of soon enough."

Raising a hand behind his head, the Saiyan cracked his neck with a pop, "I'll hold you to that-" as he raised his head, sniffing the air before turning in a random direction, taking a step forward, he spoke, "Well, I gotta get ready for Mash's training session."

Archer raised a thumb over his shoulder, pointing backward, "You know, she's that way, right?... What's the first step in your regiment anyways?"

"...Breakfast."

*FWOOOOM

The Servant watched the Saiyan race across the field, clearing half a mile in seconds before vanishing off into a distant forest, an absolute deadpan on his face, "...It's like I'm seeing her all over again."

He stood there, basking in the sunlight as a passing statement flowed through his mind, 'That aside, I'm hungry.' The hardened veteran let out a laugh to no one in particular, finding it oddly fitting that was one of the things that always came to him when he thought of her.

...

Minutes Later

Mash sat crosslegged amidst a sea of flowers, basking in the morning sunlight as she watched Jeanne awkwardly try to shimmy away from a relentlessly clingy Marie, the former taking a massive interest in the Saint, refusing to let go even as she tried to do her morning prayers, she never pictured the great Marie Antoinette as someone so young or excitable, talking about braiding each others hair and the like while the martyr tried to stay focused, even as the girl's giant hat relentlessly bumped into her chin.

Sat beside the two beneath the shade of a towering tree, notebook in hand as he scribbled some melody or other, humming along with the imaginary tune, rested a man bedazzled in much the same light as the former Queen. He wore an ornate black garb layered beneath a silken sheet of the finest purple hue, his clothes adorned with lavish gems of green atop thin gold lining. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart...Mash practically had to stop herself from bouncing around in excitement; getting to watch his process was both enlightening and somewhat disenchanting...considering he just kept muttering the word cute for the past hour...

If it weren't for their circumstances and the state of what was once France, Mash could picture herself enjoying all of this, meeting so many fascinating people, camping out in the wilderness, experiencing the wider world for the first time in her life, it left her feeling excited with an underlying sadness for what had caused it, but her smile refused to fade because she was-

*THUD

Mash jumped back with a shriek as a mountain of red crashed onto the ground beside her, leaping back she collided with what felt like a solid rock before bouncing forward, rolling into the pile and onto the other side, face first in the grass, the Chaldean rose, spitting out grass as her lilac orbs studied the gleaming pile of...apples?

Trunks sat across from the Servant where she once was, a stern expression on his face, a complete personality flip from how the time traveler treated the defender; grabbing a handful, he spoke with sheer grit, "Eat, you're going to need it."

Without saying a word, the Saiyan raised one of what had to be hundreds of the fruits upward, opening his mouth wide before his sharpened teeth crushed one of the apples with a single bite, only to be replaced by another and another, the sight making even the distant Servants pause what they were doing, the relentless crunch driving Jeanne out of her moment of reflection, turning to see what could only be described as a living dumpster, her face going pale, "Mon Dieu," instinctively she clutched Marie, pulling the girl into her chest to avert her gaze from the horror of a Saiyan appetite.

Mash fared better than most, having endured his demonic appetite once before; she at least didn't turn green this time around; trying to lighten the atmosphere, she awkwardly chuckled, "...What's with the drill instructor act, Senpai?"

Trunks paused as he gulped, nodding toward the pile until the Servant took the cue; taking a single piece, he flicked an entire stack into her lap with a finger, to her dismay, "What kind of program did Chaldea have you on before all this started? Exercises, combat simulations, anything?"

"...Fou?"

Marie's hat shook and rattled as the Austrian looked up in confusion, only for the front end to go shooting upward, knocking the decorative piece off to her dismay as Fou came shooting out, running along the ground before sliding to a stop beside the pair, staring down at the pile of fruit.

Mash watched as her Master let out a light sigh; picking up one of the red fruits, he chucked it into the air with a lazy throw, his hand becoming a blur as his finger sliced through the object again and again, only for its perfectly cut pieces to fall into his waiting palms before holding them out to the little beast. Fou stared at him a few moments, sniffing at the air, before lunging forward, yoinking a piece out of his hands before leaping onto her shoulder, perched like a squirrel as the tiny animal crunched into its food; after a second, she realized she hadn't answered, "Ehhh, the organization gave us a little physical training, but only enough to keep candidates from gaining weight-" she deadpanned, taking a crunch out of her own fruit with a disappointed glint in her eye, "...I was always dead last, I listened as best I could, I just never got the marks because I was weak."

Trunks waved a hand, shaking his head in disagreement, "It's not a bad thing to be weak, but it's unacceptable to not try to better yourself; we'll get you there someday, but it's going to be intense-" he paused, leaning forward to meet her stare, "We're going to train every single day, and I mean this, it's going to feel like hell, and honestly, I've never had to work with someone that doesn't use ki, but I'll teach you exactly like my mentor taught me."

Mash gazed upward as Fou rested a paw on her forehead, "...Gohan, right?" Seeing the surprised look on his face, the Chaldean gave him a radiant smile, "You mentioned him the other day, was I right?"

Trunks stared at her before letting out a light chuckle; looking off into the field, he thought of the man that continued to inspire him even now, "He was a lot more to me than that, but yeah-" he shook the thought away, not letting himself fall into his head, looking back with a smile he spoke, "You know, his Master was even worse, left him to fend for himself in the mountains when he was four years old-"

Mash paled, a look of worry coming over her, "That's awful!"

Trunks dismissed the comment with a shrug, "Sink or swim, that's how he taught me-" the hybrid saw the look of fear on her face, "...Oh, don't give me that look; I wasn't going to do that to you."

Mash pulled Fou into a tight hug, her chin resting on the small animal's head defensively, "...you were thinking about it, weren't you, Senpai?"

"...Maybe."

Before Mash could even react, her eyes starting to water at the thought, the time traveler lept to his feet; turning off toward a clearing, he began a lazy march, speaking over his shoulder, "Meet me in the clearing when you're ready, and don't expect me to go easy, because your enemies won't."

As Fou tried to lean out of Mash's grasp like a cat reaching toward food, his bite came within inches of another slice, only for the Chaldean to pull the beast close, burying her face in his fur to his dismay as she spoke against him, "...was this a good idea?"

He slumped over in her grasp, resigned to the existence of being a living stuffed animal, "Fouuuuuuuuuu."

...

A bit later

"Hit me."

"eh?"

Mash stared at Trunks in absolute confusion, her shield in one hand, the other free yet unclenched, not understanding what the halfling had asked of her, "You want me to hit you, Senpai?"

Trunks nodded, raising an open palm as he leveled the Chaldean with a stare of his own, "As hard as you can, we don't have the luxury of working on your body quite yet, so for now-...what's with your face?"

Mash shook her head like a dog, whirling away the burning red into its usual pale tone, "Nothing..." muttering something about keeping her head out of a gutter, whatever that meant.

Trunks gave the Servant a funny look before moving on, "Whatever you say, anyways, I need to know what I'm working with, so hit me with everything you have; I'll know if you're holding back."

The Kyrielight gave off a grumble of disapproval, not wanting to hurt her own Master, but some small part of her over-worried mind knew she couldn't even scratch him after what he survived the other night. She took a slow breath, sliding her left foot back; she clenched a gloved fist tight; feeling the pressure grow, she charged, her hand breaking through the sound barrier as wind barreled around it, crashing straight into his exposed palm with a resounding blast."

*BOOM

Trunks didn't move an inch; taking a moment, he let his hand drop, raising it to cup his chin in idle thought, pacing back and forth with a meticulousness to battle instilled by his father, "...Good, I don't have to teach you how to properly punch at least, but it needs some work...you hit harder than the average person, and you're a lot faster...you said you used to not be able to do this stuff, right?"

Mash bobbed her head up and down, "Mhm before we met in Fuyuki, I could hardly even run a mile without passing out...it only took me an hour..." She gave an innocent smile, "It feels like I can breathe for the first time in my life."

The halfling crossed his arms and couldn't help but agree that they were definitely above a regular human, he wasn't one to use power levels, not that he ever owned a scouter like his father, but Servants seemed miles above them by comparison, "It is incredible, but we're going to have to work on your mentality-"

Trunks raised a hand, pointing it at the Servant, to her surprise, "You hesitate; halfway through your attack, you stiffened up, it was hardly even a second, but that leaves an opening your enemies can exploit, and since you use a shield, the first thing we need to do is see how you react, you need to be able to protect yourself before you can even think about helping someone else."

Trunks took a few steps back, planting his feet; he extended his left arm in front of his face as his right retracted to the side, "You might not be able to fly, but our powers aren't all that different; we use energy to fuel our attacks, to make them stronger, but you're not tapping into it, not like you did against Saber."

Mash looked to the side, feeling embarrassed, like she was being lectured by one of her old teachers, "I don't know how I did that; it just...happened; my body moved on its own, but I was using your power anyways."

Trunks' stare hardened, "You told me yourself that Servants use the energy of their Master to fight, stop worrying about not being capable and find out how to use it; you held back a blast that would've killed you, so I'm going to hit you with just as much power-" the ground shook as white aura erupted along the time traveler's frame, his blue eyes nearly glowing beneath the pressure, "Be ready to block!"

Mash stood there a moment, her eyes clenched shut, feeling the overwhelming amount of energy coming off of her Master, her chest rising and falling as she took deep, heavy breaths, but she had asked for this; he was the only person that could give her the power she needed, the Master she wanted to protect, she had to do this. The Servant planted her field, raising her shield high, twisting her arm so it stood between her and her opponent; the Chaldean barked, "...ready, Senpai!"

*FWOOOM

The ground erupted as Trunks blasted off toward his opponent, barreling straight toward the defender; his boots slammed into the ground as his right fist went careening up from below, the surrounding atmosphere seeming to grow dense and heavy as his strike broke through, led by years of experience fighting foes from across the universe, driven by a strength from a foreign world, built upon by the endeavors of those before and made into his own, it slammed into Mash's shield with a thunderous clap.

The Servant braced for impact; the moment the strike rang true, the force sent waves of pressure through her limbs as wind rocketed around her on all sides, its howling screams accompanying her as the energy dragged her boots along the ground, digging a trench as her arms buckled, trying in vain to keep her shield firm, only lasting a mere second before it overwhelmed her, sending the Chaldean into a tumbling mess as she spiraled backward, bouncing along the ground before dragging to a stop along the grass some meters away.

Trunks stood firm, returning to his original stance; the halfling swallowed the feelings of pity building in his heart, knowing that the results would soon speak for themselves if the Servant had the endurance, "Again!"

Mash's entire body buckled before releasing, falling onto her back as the Chaldean stared up at the sky, wincing in pain as she felt every muscle hurt at once; she weakly looked toward her Senpai, "...we're not done?"

Trunks shook his head, "Not until you can block it; now get up and get ready...this time, work on your stance; you should flow with the motion to deflect the impact, cooperate with your shield, don't fight against it."

The defender let out a pained groan as she sat up, shakily rising to her feet in disbelief that a single strike had sent her flying, but as her driving goal fluttered to mind, she refused to let him down, wanting to keep up with the person who had saved her from the brink a mere few days ago, "...right!-" soon adjusting her position, no longer digging into a stationary hold, but trying something different, angling herself to allow for more mobility, sadly knowing this would take many tries...

"Again!"

...

And we'll leave off there for the time being, things are finally starting to ramp up, and I'm excited to keep pushing the narrative forward; let me know what you think, and see you all next time; cheers!

Sidenote: My beta reader is writing a story of his own; I will shamelessly plug it once he starts uploading.