"I can't believe I lost every time!"

"Really? I would've figured you repeating that for the last hour or so would've hammered the fact in." Ritsuka sighed as his bag collided with the sofa, soon followed by his body face-first.

So maybe it wasn't the most elegant of gestures, but could anyone blame the boy? The traditional stylings of the Emiya residence meant that hours had been spent either kneeling or otherwise on the ground; it was no wonder a modern guy like Ritsuka found himself longing for the comfort of a proper seat. Maybe he should've just adopted Gudako's method of just constantly moving. Sure, he would've made it look weird, but at least he'd still be able to properly feel his legs.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Gudako cried out nevertheless, collapsing beside him with a pout to rival the most powerful. Barely a glance was sent at the table and the note laid there before her feet were thrown onto it; considering how the message about their parents' working overtime was basically a daily staple, the note had long been nought more than a formality. "I mean, I managed to get off Nobunaga's Tenka Fubu Skill. That means I had an extra five Power Points, and I still wasn't able to beat Illya's Herakles! She even had a Battle Continuation Skill ready in case I somehow did beat her!"

"That's the Berserker she got, right? She didn't stop boasting about him being the strongest in the world, what did you expect?" Ritsuka couldn't help but reply, lifting his head just enough to reveal the teasing grin it held. Unluckily for him, that grin was soon smothered by a pillow, a surprising weight behind Gudako's throw if the way his neck reared back meant anything. "Alright, alright, no more joking with the sore loser. Go check the fridge, see if there's anything in there for dinner. Maybe that'll take your mind off it."

"I'm not that much of a glutton." Gudako was quick to protest, making a pointed effort to ignore the resulting snicker from her brother as she made for the kitchen. Though a small part of her tried to acknowledge that it would probably be a stronger argument if the method didn't work most of the time, her pride was quick to quash the thought. "Looks like Dad made some of those crispy noodles again. They'll be soggy, but the flavour'll be alright."

"We can work with that. Stick it in the microwave. I'll handle the table; you go put your figures away."

"Ooh, I'll take yours as well then!"

Unbeknownst to his sister, an eyebrow found itself rising on Ritsuka's face the moment the two passed each other. Had Gudako ever spoken so rapidly before? To be fair, her excitement while playing with the others meant she had come pretty damn close, but never that fast. No, that was the kind of speed reserved for one particular situation.

So, what did Gudako want to hide?

…No, never mind; the answer was already clear.

"By the way, that reminds me. You did manage to give back the Mashu figure to Mr Emiya, right?" just as he expected, the light remark had Gudako freezing in place, unable to muster the courage to turn back. Knowing her, Gudako probably thought that was enough to mask the inevitable sweat running down her. What a shame, then, that Ritsuka had spent far too many years with her to not pick up on every other obvious tell she was emitting. "You know, the balls of your feet are bouncing again."

"…But you got it, right? That means it's yours until Chaldea Corp asks for it back!" Gudako soon whined, refusing to turn back as she crushed their bags in her embrace. Honestly, you'd think someone was trying to rob them rather than have their rightful property returned. "What's the difference between us holding it and Mr Emiya holding it?"

"The fact that he'll probably help return it rather than stick it in a private display case and say he lost it?" was Ritsuka's answer, arms folded as he watched his sister crumble thinking of a retort. She couldn't have set that up better if she tried; it wasn't like Gudako was hiding how eager she was to set up that shrine of hers. "Look, if I don't see that Mashu figure on my desk tonight, you won't see any of yours until I know you can behave, got it?"

He didn't need an answer really, but the low groan that poured out of Gudako's mouth was good enough for him. The technique was tried and true. If it worked with getting her to share the Halloween candy she was gifted by (read: manipulated from) several of their neighbours, why wouldn't it work here? The Mashu figure might not immediately finds its way to Ritsuka's room, but it would be there. Her sense of greed wouldn't allow anything else.

Perhaps he'd see if that Chaldea Corp could swap it for some special merch or something. Sate her for a small while, if nothing else. After all, regardless of whether they intended to release Mashu's figure, Mr Emiya paid for a product. They couldn't just leave him empty-handed, so might as well take advantage of the situation, right? Ritsuka might not have been up for keeping property that wasn't intended for the public, but it wasn't as if he was a complete pushover. Maybe he could even turn it into a birthday gift if he could keep Gudako distracted for a bit.

"Oi, Gudako! It's time to eat, not play!" such was why Ritsuka couldn't stop the grin on his face as he called out, no longer bothered by the rather pitiful state of their dinner or the empty chairs that surrounded it.

Admittedly, when Mao sent off her application for an R&D job at a toy company, she had been expecting a cushy office job following up on the latest trends. Trying to find out what children would be attracted to, finding ways to integrate various technologies at minimal cost, taking home some of the 'market research' plushies purchased on the company payroll – you know, simple stuff.

Consequently, when she and Soria found themselves pelted by the chill of the night outside some random house, Mao was far from pleased. Needless to say, quaking in her shoes with hands barely able to keep hold of the binoculars she used was hardly what she expected from a casual workday. That their bosses had practically dumped the task at their feet mere minutes before the end of their shifts was just the icing on the cake. Honestly, with how hard they were being worked, Mao was just about ready to storm the head offices and demand a pay rise there and then.

"I don't even know why you brought those things, Mao. It's not like we're staying anywhere close to the building." Soria muttered, Mao releasing an annoyed yelp when she found her binoculars plucked from her grasp. "What are you going to do, keep an eye on the invisible people? It's a stealth mission; if you saw anything happen, we would've already failed."

"But what else are we meant to do then?" the girl couldn't help but whine, kicking her legs as best she could without throwing herself out of the tree they were sitting in. without their initial distraction, there was nothing left for her eyes to do but stare at the toy at her side, a glare enough to murder men threatening to burn the blasted thing alive. "Just chuck toys at some random dude's house and hope for the best? The nerds in the main research department don't even have faith in them! That's why we're here to take the blame if something goes wrong, don't you see?"

"The Director has faith in them though. Do you think he's wrong?"

Soria's question easily pierced through the veil of anger surrounding Mao, leaving her flapping her lips without the words to fill them. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Marisbury Animusphere was a genius. No, he was something above a genius. If it weren't for the miracles of his mind, Chaldea Corp wouldn't have dreamt of doing half the things they managed to achieve at this point. A mundane man simply couldn't reach the heights that Director Animusphere had managed to reach; was it truly a stretch to imagine him reaching further?

"Look, we're dealing with someone supposedly on the Director's level. If these things fail, it's not like the two of us could do anything to turn things around. We have no clue what's in that house; for all we know, the lack of a boundary field is just a trap meant to lure us in. Do you think the Director would see that and still send people like us if he didn't believe the prototypes could handle the situation?" Soria continued, tucking away the binoculars before the sound of his neck cracking echoed through the night. Hate to say it, but we're here because we're one step up from grunts. We stand a way better chance of sneaking around undetected than people with a more heavily publicised connection to the company like the research folk. Plus, you saw how much they censored; we don't have half as much info as they would. Plausible deniability and all that."

Regardless of the truth in his first statement, Mao struggled to stifle her sigh at the optimism oozing from Soria's later declarations. Oh, how she wanted to slap him around the face and yell that it wasn't anything to do with stealth at all. That they were simply the most disposable in case things did end up going wrong. After all, Soria said it himself; they were pretty much grunts. Hell, they still thought Chaldea Corp was just an entertainment company until they threw those 'NDAs' on their desks earlier that week. Why potentially waste good manpower by sending them to their deaths if they could just chuck the fodder at the problem instead? And to think, they were risking their lives for a prototype of a prototype!

Even so, it wasn't as if stating that much would change anything. Leaving now would be just asking for their jobs to be taken from them, maybe more depending on how serious they were about keeping this stuff under wraps. It wasn't as if there were many stories of people who broke protocol – Chaldea Corp wouldn't have reached the prestige it held now if it did – but there had been a few too many random resignations she could never contact again for Mao to feel comfortable. No, the job before them had to be done. More chance of making sure she could make it to the next rent payment that way. Literally.

"Urgh, whatever. Let's just get this over with." Mao muttered, a holder at her hip opening with a flick of her fingers as she reached for one of the cards held within. As her other moved towards the toy on her other side, Soria responded with a firm nod, his figure in hand. "Field, open!"

RETEXTURING REALITY

BATTLEFIELD: BLANK

A sharp gesture was all Mao needed to send her card flying with supernatural speed, the impromptu projectile digging into the concrete below with a force that Mao shouldn't have been able to muster. Not a moment later, that very same card seemingly dissolved into the earth, its mass morphing into a dull white wave that crawled along every surface it came across. Perhaps one day, that wave would give birth to something incredible, but for now, all it needed to do was set up a bounded field so the chaos to come could be contained.

"Got to admit, I've been looking forward to this," Soria remarked, punctuated with a chuckle as he absently threw his figure up and down. That didn't last long, however, before an iron grip caught the toy, Soria throwing his arm back with all the poise of a pitcher as his grin grew by the second. "Duel, go! Rise, Katou Danzo!"

"You don't have to be such a dork about it," Mao said in return, a pout upon her face before it settled into something more serious. While she might not be willing to resort to such theatrics, that didn't mean her following throw was any less powerful. She couldn't chance it; those toys were basically bombs with how much energy was in them at that point. If something was to break down, she didn't want that kind of hazard sitting right next to her. "Duel, go! Rise, Galatea!"

DUEL: GO

MASTER: MAO MAOMAO

GALATEA (BERSERKER)

&.

MASTER: SORIA NAJWA

KATOU DANZO (ASSASSIN)

BATTLEFIELD: BLANK

READY?

FIGHT!

A glow to the figures' eyes was all the warning they gave before they were enrobed by ethereal energy, the berserker surrounded by brown while the assassin was covered by black. With each passing second, the energy swelled, Soria and Mao watching with open mouths as the two spheres soon reached a similar height to their own. Their awe, however, would soon turn to shock when the energy decided to explode, the two blown from their hiding places with a pair of hefty thumps to make their meeting with the ground.

"Alright, guess that's a fail…ure…?" Mao grumbled, blinking wildly until the sight before her forced her eyes wide open.

Ivory. That was the first thought that ran through her mind. Whether it be her hair, her skin, or her clothes, the girl that stood before Mao was entirely dyed in ivory. So brilliant was that first impression, Mao could almost ignore the frankly ridiculous clothes that the girl wore. Seriously, who the hell in the design department decided to give her such ridiculous pants? And only one of her sleeves matched them? Mao could only thank the gods that the girl was so inhumanely beautiful that it didn't matter a jot, a single glance into sapphire eyes more than enough to distract Mao once again. No wonder Pygmalion fell in love with the statue he carved. Galatea was an inherently enthralling existence.

Soria, meanwhile, was too preoccupied with admiring features that should not have belonged to a sentient being. Joints better suited for a doll moved with an elegance impossible with modern technology, the cold metal that formed them blending into human-esque flesh without a single seam. That the black-haired beauty was supposedly a creation of the Edo period almost had Soria laughing in disbelief. After all, the leotard and crimson scarf that composed her outfit didn't exactly scream 'kunoichi'. Even so, there was something in the way Katou Danzou held herself that wouldn't let that laugh escape. The mere presence of a warrior moulded by the Sengoku period's violence was too great for even light-hearted mockery.

"…Well, at least not a full one." Was all Soria could answer with, waving his hand before Danzou's eyes to no response. Given how Galatea seemed completely frozen as well, he wasn't exactly expecting her to respond much differently. "Oi, anyone in there? Care to say hello or anything?"

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Alright, should've expected that one." Soria dryly mused when neither Servant seemed inclined to add anything else to their replies. At least Mao looked mildly amused given the smirk plastered across her lips. "Well then, how about this? Take on your astral forms and enter that house. There should be a toy with a similar magical signature to your own – grab it and get out of there. We don't know what defences are gonna be in there, so Danzou will lead and check for traps while Galatea provides brute force backup. That too complicated for you?"

"Understood." Danzou stated, barely a moment before her body dissolved into the night alongside Galatea's. There was no flash of magical energy, no gradual disappearance limb by limb – just a blink and they were no more. Soria couldn't blame Mao for suddenly craning her head to and fro; part of him wanted to do it too.

"Huh. Guess that's that then. The Director did say they were going to be more like robots than actual Heroic Spirits at this stage." Soria instead sighed, rolling his shoulder as he reached for the branch above him. "Now, we wait and pray."

Despite the eagerness of their departure, however, neither Servant was particularly hasty in their movements. Faced with an unknown and woefully few hints, their limited processing capabilities easily decided that restraint was the play to make. Such was why they walked through empty corridors with hesitant steps, checked various cupboards without a single item of interest with caution, and ascended trap-less stairs as if a boulder was waiting for them. Had they a greater mentality, so quaint a building belonging to a skilled enemy would've probably raised a few questions, but as they were, the two cared little.

At least until they came across the bedroom where the magical signature felt strongest. Though there were no more defences than anywhere else in the house – the signature wouldn't be so prominent otherwise – only a fool would rush into what was essentially the final bastion given how little the Servants could sense elsewhere. Their computational power might have been limited, but they were no fools.

Consequently, while a slumbering Ritsuka would've taken no notice of their entrance anyway, the two blissfully unaware Servants still reduced their magical energy consumption to the absolute minimum possible before attempting to enter his room. As they were, a skilled magus would've struggled to notice Galatea, to say nothing of what kind of detection would be needed to notice Danzo. So long as they continued as they were, it seemed as if their mission would be over in a heartbeat, seeing how their target was resting upon Ritsuka's desk as if it were any other knickknack. There was just one problem.

A sleepy Ritsuka, through no fault of those Servants, needed a drink.

Without realising the threats that stood before him, the boy let out a small groan as he groggily groped for his phone, his desire not to traverse the house in darkness leading to his hand landing upon Mashu Kyrielight. Though a standard Servant might have the speed necessary to prevent him from doing so, the experimental nature of Danzo and Galatea meant they were unable to react in time to stop Ritsuka's fingers from contacting the toy.

Thus, their worlds were consumed with light.