It was the end of May, morning had come to the city of Rouen. Over two decades after this day ended, a war that had lasted off and on for three to four generations would end, and some semblance of peace would be brought about.
That notwithstanding, this would come afterwards, eventual as it seems now. On May 30th, a girl, only in her nineteenth year of living, had been tried. Charged with the crimes of heresy, witchcraft and dressing as a man, she would be brought to justice.
Watched by thousands, those who dwelled in the city and lived during this time of conflict.
Some believed she was innocent, they were silent-drowned out,
Others, others thought she was guilty of every sin imaginable.
A girl who heard the voice of the lord, country bumpkin more like it!
The peasant thinks she is a messiah-BAH!
No honor in the way she fought, what child of God would abandon the code of chivalry?
How many fools did she lead to their deaths, how many families are without sons? Without fathers?
So on,
So forth,
Lead by guards, armored-while she wore what was little more than a plain sack, a sack that would itch anyone. Her cross had been taken some time before, one of the first acts to decry her when she had been captured. She kept composure, somehow, some way.
Hands bound, tied, cutting circulation. Her features, fair, even with the dirt and grime she had been dealt in her prison, showed no pain. Her hair, golden as the sun-reflected the rays of the rising sun. If she weren't a heretic, some would have called her a seraphim of the Lord.
She assuredly heard the maelstrom. The cacophony of hatred these people had for her, for what she did, what they think she did. If she was affected by these spiteful curses, she did not show it.
Place du Vieux-Marché, an open area of the city built brick by brick so that the common folk may walk upon. This was where her final moments would be spent. For all to see, an inglorious end to a woman so treacherous..
Stones, rotting vegetables, rotting fruit-hit her with almost every step. She showed resilience, never lashing out in anger, or falling into despair with streaming tears. She had the patience of a saint, something that frustrated that had held her, judged her and threatened her with the vileness humanity was known for, the vileness masked under good intention.
At the center was a wooden pillar, more accurately-a stake. It was crude but it would get the job done. Surrounded by sticks and coal, with a man holding an unlit torches, the executioner, and a bishop holding a leatherbound book.
Some would think that seeing the very place you were going to die would make you act in some way, irrational, defiant, feral. That seeing what our grave would kick in our survival skills. For Jeanne D'arc, a woman who is known as a saint over hundreds of years after her death, she gave a solemn reaction.
Surrounded, Jeanne faced the stake as a guard untightened her restraints for a moment-though the other kept a hand on his sword with dead set eyes if she thought she could do something foolish.
She didn't, though someone else did.
Breaking through the rampart of radicalized commoners, a man found himself on the other side. A fervent worry in his eyes. He ran for her, still believing she was a saviour, that'd deliver those two countries from evil.
The man found the end of the guard's blade to his features, having been caught up in his own ideas of salvation. A bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, he gasped.
The guard asked what in God's name was he thinking?
He went to his pocket, pulling out a carved cross. It had been made by this man, a native of England. What a foreigner from an enemy country was doing here, was anyone's guess.
He meant no harm, he only wished to know that someone who had tried to fight in God's name, could at least meet him with something to show that what these people said wasn't true. That she was following his son's footsteps, that Lucifer and his hellish brood hadn't dug their heinous talons into her.
This gesture was scoffed at, and laughed at by the guards.
The executioner, seeing the earnestness in the man's pleading, looked at the woman that was going to die. She hadn't run, she hadn't used the outburst to escape or harm.
The executioner ordered the guard to stay their hands for a moment and allowed the woman of Arc to meet the englishman. This very much to the bishop's objection, "That witch would hex us if we so much as give her an INCH!"-the executioner still allowed it.
Jeanne went to him, the man praised her, apologized to her and gave her the cross.
She accepted it gingerly. She traced her fingers around the carving, it was smooth though some areas were uneven. She looked into his eyes, and thanked him, Turning away, ready to meet the end-the Englishman fell to his knees, crying and apologizing for a sinful world cruel to end a maiden who in his eyes, a saviour.
Bound to the stake, blood flow haltered on her ankles and wrists. She wore the cross around her neck as the bishop recited the completed word on her final judgement from the leatherbound book. This would be the greatest punishment a follower of God, a good and honest person could lay upon one so sinful in the eye's of the Almighty's children.
When the final word was spoken, the executioner lit his torch and the pyre began. When the pain had been receptive, she cried the trinity's name and prayed for those who had fallen and against those who believed what she had done was heresy.
This was simply her body acting on her own, while her mind found her own actions rather numbing. She was only speaking words that held no real meaning, truthful or untruthful.
She was burned three times that day, while her mind went over all her choices, the path taken and its results. And the path she didn't-the path that could have allowed her to still live, that she could have settled down, with someone she loved, have children, grow old and coddle her children's children. The voice that had led her down her true path was gone, leaving only what could be thought of as her own doubts, her own regrets.
She disagreed with the sentiment these doubts brought. It wasn't her, this was a falsehood presented to her and she would betray the reality she found herself in. She had not made a mistake listening to the voice of God, the presence that had come to her when she was a young girl, still living with her mother, father and siblings. The one-above-all that had been disillusioned with a world so cruel, enough that it made her change her fate, and take up the pole of the flag, and hilt of a sword.
She would not let it overtake her, bitterness, anger, regret. It would never pierce her heart. With that, "...O Lord, I give myself to you…" breathlessly, she spoke as the third fire extinguished her spark on this mortal plain.
"Vengeance is sweet"
Jeanne D'arc, opened her yellow eyes. The darkened room spinning for a moment before they adjusted, the image of the bug-eyed man in front of her solidified.
"GAH!" her palm struck the man's face, quickly backing away. She pulled her sword, la pucelle, a snarl on her face. "PREPARE TO DIE CREEP!"
Anger was there, but she could not have herself strike him. "Jeanne? Oh GLORIOUS! Yes, my prayers have been answered! FINALLY!" Shrill voice, the bug-eyes man praised, getting on his hands and knees to bow before Jeanne. He wore a robe, scarlet patterned (as if it were blood) intermixed with black-fabric.
Jeanne growled, her eyes twitching. "THAT VOICE IS FUCKING ANNOYING GILLE-cut it out or I will…" she faltered, Gille, that's his name-he was my ally before they killed me. Of course he was, but she felt like she had just learned it from nowhere. They killed me….ungrateful! She bared her fangs, frustrated as remembered the sensation.
"Something the matter, Jeanne?" Gille De Rais asked, rising up to his feet with hunched posture.
"Of course not!" She said sharply, sheeting her blade before crossing her arms. Her eyes examined the room. She was in a cathedral, gothic in its nature. Ovular and tall, as if trying to touch the heavens itself. With curved architecture of grey stone supported by each other. Inhabiting the space were rows of wooden seating. Between the seats and over the seats-
-She finally smelled copper. The reason for that were the corpses on the ground, their bodies mutilated, twisted, bent into positions not physically possible for them to even be able to live. She assumed this was Gille's. Caster class, and he used Prelati's book most likely… She wrinkled her nose, confused as blood pooled. The pale woman groaned, bringing herself out of her conundrum.
Two bodies drew her attention. One, the bishop that had read her judgement. Two, the executioner that had burned her. Her eyes looked to the cross, both men pinned to it, over each other, mixed-like someone had pulled them apart and put them back together. They shared a mouth, their respective crowns pointing away from to form sickening V. Their limbs twisted around each other like serpents writhing. Their chest , if Jeanne could still call it a chest, was a mangle of protruding ribs and guts.
They were still breathing, the ribs and guts bobbing back and forth. They looked at Jeanne. They were horrified.
With a fiendish smile, she approached the chimera. They struggled, the crucifix they were pinned to, keeping them in place. The men would have made her angry if they were separated, but as they were-she couldn't do anything but to laugh haughtily. "That's amazing!" She looked to Gille, whose eyes had never strayed away from her. "Did you do this?"
"Yes...are you pleased with it?" The former knight wracked his hands nervously.
Was she pleased with this? She was a saint, right? A pure and holy maiden who's virtue was for the Father who art in heaven. A father that stood by, let me burn. She cringes, the temperature in the room flares up.
She looked into the eyes of the chimera. First the bishop, then the executioner.
A cloud moved overhead, light shined through the stained glass windows.
Her ashened attire was lit by the multicolored light, her dark silver headpiece gleaming as the light hit it, along with her white-blonde locks-her eyes traced the light upwards to see the characters, the stories that could be gleaned by windows. Stories that glorified a god and his mindless lambs that listened without even an inkling of skepticism. Like I did…
The torches that lit the cathedral at night began to burn as her rage rose.
How was she here? She had died, I'm a ruler-granted form by the throne to oversee the grail war. She told herself how she knew, how she was alive.
She turned away from the light, the color of the Bible's fairy tales. Looking back to Gille, she thought of how his life went, how he fell from grace. "Am I pleased?" Yellow eyes drew back to the chimera, who still cowered, astonished that their sacrificial lamb had crawled out from the depths of hell to look them in the eyes. "Before I died, you called me a witch, Father-why wouldn't you? A bitch who gave herself, heart, body, mind and soul to a God who cried for someone else for his dirty work while he reaped the benefits!" The attire of the bodies, the wooden chairs-they began to burn. "A poor, dumb farmgirl who threw away her future to a book she couldn't fucking read"
Gille stood solemnly. A smile, wide and depraved began to form.
"I threw away everything for a cause that I was decried for-damn all the good I did, damn the lives I brought to salvation!" The cathedral's pyre grew. "Every day, and every night I was threatened. To have my chastity broken, my blood dripped, and bones cracked-because I sinned. Love thy neighbor-bullshit…" She snarled, watching the chimera begin to burn-they writhed in pain, screaming lowly.
"I gave everything to a loving god and his people! And what do I get? I'm ratified as a saint, proved innocent-AFTER I'M DEAD AND BURIED!"
Gille began to laugh, intoxicated by his dear friend's fervor, her righteous understanding.
"Because that makes up for all my sacrifices! All the embarrassment, because your justice was right in the end" Chuckling darkly, she strokes the chimera's chins. "If you want to see a witch-I will show you a witch, glorious in her judgement, glorious in her vehemence" Their skin begins to melt off their still living body as their eyeballs pop. "Watch from that heaven that doesn't exist-as I unleash my vengeance upon a world that allows your idea of justice!" The chimera becomes a pillar of fire as Jeanne's focuses on their burning in particular.
Soaking it all in, she watched them burn until they were blackened. When she was satisfied, she snapped her fingers-the fire ceased. She admired her work, the sheer act of spit in the face of God-and she was thankful for that. He's not coming, if he existed...surely he would have struck me down. She sighed to herself, a content smile draped across her lovely yet haunting features. "I am pleased, Gilles, more than you could ever understand-" She nearly jumped out her cape and armor as her former ally bellowed an entropic coo.
"GLORIOUS! Jeanne, my Jeanne praises me so much!" He got on his hands and knees, bowing to her like a saint coming to grant him salvation. In a way, she believed she was.
Though his reaction made the freshly summoned Saint of the Flag palmed her forehead exasperatedly. "Stop that! Or I promise you'll be next!" She threatened, her palms lighting with fire.
The dark caster looked up at her and nodded, though she still had a dopey grin that irked her. "Of course, Jeanne-but how could I not be jubilated at seeing you here! I was skeptic at the proposal at first, but that Green Man was right-"
Jeanne raised her brow at him with a frown, "Green Man?"
"Oh yes Jeanne~~" From his cloak, he pulled a golden chalice. "You burned yesterday morning-far away from me, from my help when I lived…" He approaches her, presenting the chalice to the Ruler. "...I opened my eyes, summoned here-but with no master in sight. I knew the land, and recognized the day. I sought to finally bring judgement upon those who besmirched you, in the very den of foolishness that had taken you away from me, from us!"
He gives her the chalice, Jeanne knew what it was the moment she saw it.
"I came when the reprobates were gathering, praying to the monster that led you to your death! I brought my wrath quickly, lovingly, artistically-like how I knew you would want if you were by my side~~" His pupils go wide, his tone frothy. "I made those two suffer the most, but when it was all over. I felt hollow...that's when he came to me, flesh like a man-but with the eyes and soul of Lucifer's brood. He blessed me with this to bring you here-uncorrupted, so that you wouldn't walk the path of the so-called righteous"
The Holy Maiden Savior smiled, beginning to understand where he was going with this. "So that I could finally ravage a world so cruel that it's people would kill me without consequence?" She turns to the stained glass windows, the windows told lies-lies that she couldn't believe that she found comfort in. "I am righteous, Gille. And I believe it's time to show this country that very sentiment…"
She left the charred corpse of the chimera and headed for the large doors of the Cathedral, Rouen's Cathedral to be exact. Gille followed, "And how shall we do that, Jeanne?"
Bringing her sword out, she lit it with her pyrrhic rage. Without so much as breaking a sweat-the doors were blown off its hinges.
Her black heels hit the threshold. Looking out into the city, she knew what must be done. She looked over her shoulder and scoffed at her old ally. "I'm going to burn this era and its people to the ground…" She throws her head back and laughs. "...surely God will punish me for such an act"
Rouen would be the first to fall…
Not one of my better moments… Peter thought to himself, staring absentmindedly at a screen. Reading the words of course, but his mind still solely focused on what had happened about two days ago.
The Archer from Fuyuki, he was in Chaldea that should be obvious at this point. Peter had summoned him, a fact that made the teenage vigilante uneasy to the nth degree.
He didn't know how he summoned him. Da Vinci confirmed that the Summoning System was put on standby after Amakusa was fully manifested. This was to mainly save power and because Peter didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to his first summon. He didn't want to double dip-a gut feeling telling him that he would be pushing his luck if he attempted another summon.
He was not the superstitious type, spider-sense aside. He liked to look at the world from the eyes of those he looked up to. Nothing just happened or could happen because something ethereal tipped the scales in the favor of one direction. He didn't give credence to predetermined paths, because life was random. Nothing bad is supposed to happen. It's just chance.
Granted, due to his upbringing-he did fall into the habit of chalking certain turns in his life to some guiding hand. He had done this genuinely. From some of his wins, to some of his losses. Even in the situation he was in now, magic was involved and while there was an apparent science to it-there was that annoying voice in the back of his head that told Pete that some bets were being hedged out of his favor.
He honestly didn't know how to describe magecraft. Because it was the opposite of everything he'd learn. It relied on how much people knew about it, it relied on conceptual strength, it relied on forcing a result that shouldn't be, into reality. Almost nothing about that can be connected to the scientific method-I...I'm getting away from the actual issue…
When Peter had awakened, in the medical room, that other feeling of rage and fear had lessened. Still there, but he could at least think straight. Though he wasn't exactly giddy to see the grey-eyed Archer smirking at him from the corner as Romani checked him, Mash questioned him. With a voice of worry, and eyes that made him feel guilty-he didn't know exactly what his plan had been, he had admitted.
The first question Peter had, why was he here? He knew the Archer-servant wouldn't remember him. Servants don't remember their previous summonings, when that version is gone-it's gone. That guy just tried to scare me-and it worked. Dammit…
Da Vinci had hypothesized that, maybe he had been summoned at the same time as the Ruler-servant. But his connection to reality hadn't been solidified at that point.
Peter asked if that was possible. Da Vinci shrugged at the question.
The Red Bowman didn't give credence to the idea. Saying he was summoned in full, but to a dark room (the summoning room) with his memories a tad jostled.
So Da Vinci threw out the idea that, since they left the FATE system running at low power to keep servants materialized. Maybe the brunette had unknowingly summoned the Archer with a passing but strong thought about Fuyuki.
The Archer didn't say yes or no to the idea.
But why would I want him? That guy was an asshole! Casty was an asshole, sure-but I could deal with him. Red Arrow? He seems like nothing but trouble! He had said almost verbatim, raising a few eyebrows in the room.
"Guess that me, riled you up quite a bit, eh Master?"
"Don't call me that!"
"Why, that's what you are. You're my master and I'm your humble servant-here to help you save the world like a true hero of justice." He said smugly, making Peter tense at the time. He wanted to suckerpunch the servant O-so badly.
Peter had apparently been the one to strike first from looking over the recordings. Just jumping at the heroic spirit like a man-possessed. The teen couldn't give an answer as to how he knew his servant was there in the first place-the question was really asked though, for some reason.
As for why he attacked the archer. Romani surmised that maybe he was suffering a form of PTSD from his encounter with Fuyuki's Archer (though the Doctor said he was not a psychologist). And that some base part of himself still considered the servant an enemy, despite this one being different, and not being blackened like the other two servants encountered in Singularity F.
That made sense, that had to be the reason.
Introductions were made properly, the archer said he went by Nameless. Peter pointed out that wasn't a name. The Red Bowman explained that his name was lost to time, and even more loss with his odd summoning. So he figured he'd have an alias until he could reclaim what he had lost. "Besides, only someone with something to hide would have a fake name" He had said with a dark chuckle, looking Peter dead to rights. His grey eyes gave nothing away that the teenage vigilante could grasp-spider-sense didn't go off. He was wary nonetheless.
In the present, the Parker Boy tried his best not to interact with Nameless, he would even back out of crossing him if he could. But the archer always found a way to be in the same room as him, mostly during lunch, breakfast, dinner and Da Vinc's lessons. Doing nothing at all, maybe some small chit chat with Mash, Amakusa or some of the other staff.
Peter felt like prey, being strangled, suffocating any time he couldn't find an easy way out of interacting with him. He had been the king of that back home, but he was in a compound in the middle of a frozen tundra-he couldn't exactly slip on the red-and-blue underoos to swing and have some me time. He didn't want to come off as a spaz, but he also didn't want to feel like he was chumming it up with someone that his gut told him to be seriously wary of.
PTSD, it has to be… he thought worryingly, eyes retracing words he had previously read. Does he also know who I am?! And how could he have PTSD? He had gone through worse, been beaten worse...
The only other thing that gave him any grief was a question Mash had asked him before going to bed that night. "Please come and get me next time, senpai…" she had said softly, hands tightened and eyes downtrodden.
Does Reed have to deal with this sort of stuff? He wrinkles his nose, reading the description yet again. No-why would he? He's ten times smarter than me and is used to having Sue fight by his side...guilt flew through him with the comparison.
He didn't know what to honestly say to her after that. Much less how to explain his entire breakdown. He...he just hadn't been himself. A total cop out, it's like saying 'it's not you, it's me' He groaned.
The tap on his shoulder brought him out of his moping. Meeting her eyes, lilac eyes that had gotten him off kilter plenty since he had gotten here. "Interested in summoning, Sakamoto Ryouma, senpai?" Mash asked in a quaint manner.
"Sakamoto Ryouma?" he asked, having no idea who that was or why she had brought it up.
"Yes, that's the predicted servant that can be summoned with this catalyst" she explained, Fou leaping up on her shoulder to deliver the brunette 'well duh' expression.
Peter looks back to the screen, The Kaientai Banner, with a picture of the red and white flag and a description of the history of the servant and the possible class he would be summoned into.
The teenage vigilante was in the Archives, which housed various catalysts that a proponent magus/master candidate could use to better lock-down their wanted servant when performing the summoning ritual. The terminals told where said magus could find the catalyst in the room.
He hadn't been looking for anything in particular-just something to get his mind off of Nameless and Mash.
Unfortunately it seems his mind had run off without him yet again. "How long was I staring at the same page?" And one of the people he was trying to avoid, had found him nonetheless.
His junior gives him a puzzled look, "I don't know, You were looking at it when I came in and that was only a moment ago, senpai" She pressed the screen and begins to scan over the info, she nods to herself "I don't know how strong he would be-but he is quite well known! The Kaientai being the reason, it was considered one of Japan's first modern corporations-paving the way for future commerce and trade in the country. He was its founder"
"Impressive for a guy I've never heard of," He says bashfully. Trying to avoid her eyes.
The lavender head cups her chin, "Haven't heard of? How have you not heard of him?" she was shocked
Pete shrugs, "I'm american-they don't really teach us much history that isn't directly connected to us in some way. I could give you a rundown on Greek or Roman history in the form of a report, but other than that-the only thing I know about Japan is the stuff from 8th grade world war history, and an actually funny factoid about this one japanese war general my friend told me about. I forget his name, but he went out like Elvis Presley if you can catch my drift…" he let out a sigh as an awkward weight began to tense between the teens.
His hazel eyes drifted themselves towards the exit. He soon found Mash in his purview, an anxious look that clashed with her usual serene persona.
Pete raised a brow, "What's up?" he asked cautiously, he had a good idea of what it was. It was possible he was being presumptuous, not everything was dragged down by his drama...but the look she gave him...it was one Mary Jane shot him when he was off.
"..." Mash had been looking all over for her master-the boy, who lit a flame that grew steady, being skittish for the last few days after the Nameless's summoning. She could understand the dubious thoughts Peter had for the servant (she presume he had anyway)-but she for one, understood the rules when it came to summoning. You weren't nearly killed by him...She reminded herself. For a moment she was quiet, trying to find the words. She was looking for him because the Doctor had news...but she also wanted to know why-
Fou patted her head to focus her, "Mykyuu!"
"Oh Yes-my apologies, senpai! The Doctor needs you in the command room!" She yelped. "We've located the first singularity" Just business then...that's fine… She didn't hide her disappointment with herself well.
Peter crossed his arms, "That's not it...is it?" he asked calmly, taking a less umbrageous stance. He had originally planned to try and make a getaway and cross his fingers that he could go another day without dealing with this girl who...who...who's very being he was linked to.
Ashamed, Mash let loose a hollow breath. Unsure of what to really say, the older boy before her had been scarce. Even when they were together, he'd seemed guarded, keeping what he said brief, throwing in a joke or two to drive across the idea that everything was okay. But, Mash, even with her lack of expertise when it came to interaction, could read him.
She honestly knew very little about her master, she could ask him why? Why he hadn't gotten her, let her watch his back or was keeping to himself. She wanted to breach this wall he was building, she knew he was building. Even with that, she didn't want to overstep her bounds. Maybe I should...the thought was brash. It wasn't her usual attitude.
This timorousness was getting her nowhere, taking in a breath. As she spoke the first syllable of her answer. The coms hummed to life.
/Candidates Peter Parker and Mash Kyrielight. Please report to the command room for briefing/
This took the wind out of her sails. The Human Order comes first...don't bother with this...it isn't for you… She felt his hand. His fingers curving around hers, lifting lilac eyes up, she met his sympathetic and guilty hazel.
She felt his warmth pulse through as their palms touched as he squeezed her hand comfortably-not too tight, not too loose. She blushed, but didn't divert her eyes from his.
"...To keep it short...I don't want to drag you into my drama...I don't know if that's selfish or not...but I don't really have the words to explain everything that went on during that night" He lets go of her and begins to head for the door. "I know that you said my problems are your problems...but...it's honestly always been on me...or atleast…" He wanted to mention MJ, but he couldn't drag that skeleton out of the closet. "...God, listen to me…" whispering under his breath as he opens the door.
Mash came to him (Fou having lept off to stand in the hallway), bringing her face close to his with a worrisome look. The junior, taking in his musk, and him, her scent-she was too close for comfort in Pete's opinion as their chests touched. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his frame. She felt his athletic build and the hint of musculature under the mystic code.
Embarrassment overtook her, but her master couldn't see her tomato red face.
It felt exhilarating, it felt wrong.
"You're not alone, senpai...even if I die tomorrow...even if you die tomorrow...I'd rather it'd be with us on even footing. I'm not going to pretend I know what you're going through...I'm a novice to a plethora of phenomena...but I want you to realize, I'm here, and that you don't have to be alone…" She smirked sarrachinely, nuzzling him as she embraced her senpai. Whatever appalling feeling she had previously had about her previous brash actions being overturned over the pure ecstasy of finally being able to talk to him directly and feel him.
Peter on the other hand was turning white somewhat at her own strength beginning to be unfettered as she continued and as the brunette found himself wracked with a feeling of what could be considered the precipice of unchastity. "Appreciate it…*inhale*...we should probably see what...the word is on the…*exhale*...singularity!" It wasn't unpleasant, but the teenage vigilante would be lying if he admitted that.
"Fou! Fou!" the fluffer barked enviously.
Amakusa stood calmly alongside, to Peter's disappointment (least Mash believed it was disappointment)-Nameless, were both already there. The tanned and white haired servants waited for their master so the briefing may start up in full.
Romani, with Da Vinci beside him, set down an empty mug of coffee, turning away from a monitor that showed the general layout of what Mash recognized as France. "Ah good, everyones here-cool!"
"So…" Peter goes to the screen, with a second of looking it over-he turns to Romani. "...France, huh?"
"Good eye, yup-we traced the first singularity to France. More specifically the land around Orleans, circa 1431 A.D." The Doctor explained. "Though what's causing the disturbance is anyone's guess at the moment. We couldn't get any images of the singularity."
"Though if one were to guess-judging by the year, it's likely a disturbance in the Hundred Years War." Da Vinci added.
"So we're going full history class? Should we be worried about the bubonic plague-I remember that happening during the war."
Romani shakes his head, "No, though the era is set about twenty before the end of the war. My guess is you'll be dealing with French spirits or atleast spirits connected to the land in one way or another."
The renaissance artist shakes her head with a drawl look, "Astute observation as always Roman"
"What do you want me to say? We're flying blind here" Romani explains in an almost defensive manner.
Amakusa took his chance to make a thought known, "1431-that's the year Jeanne D'arc died, correct?"
"Yes, actually….maybe someone stopped her death." Romani mumbled to himself, looking back to screen. "Though would stopping her death really cause its own singularity?"
"She was one of the factors that lead to war ending eventually-but one change like that, I'm not sure it would cause a full on error in time and space."
"Maybe we should stop wondering and actually see for ourselves!" Nameless said sharply, voice deep-cutting through the air and putting the brunette on edge. He points to Peter, "That's why me and the choir boy were contracted, right? If we don't know what's there, some reconnaissance is in order-isn't that right, master?"
"Don't call me that-" Peter gives him a dirty look, "and no duh, Andrews…" he takes a breath, "...how soon can Mash, Amakusa and I rayshift into the singularity?" Peter hears the archer laugh darkly, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
Romani gave Chaldea's master an odd look, though moved past it. "Today, actually. The coffins are in working order and we have the era locked on. We're ready at the word go"
He looks at the Shielder, and smirks-"How does a Tour de France (minus the bikes) sound to you?"
The lavender head curled her head for a moment, a sly smile coming across her face "Excellent, actually!" her voice giddy, her features wistful.
The teenage vigilante, much to the chagrin of a part of himself, found it absolutely adorable. His face tints red-he quickly turns to Romani "Y-y*cough*you heard lady. Fire up that stargate!"
EMIYA hadn't been lying to his master. His summoning, however it had occurred-hours after the teen was actively attempting to call upon the throne-had scattered his mind.
He knew who he was, now at least, he was once a dumb idiot with red-hair that had the propensity for trying to be a hero. This was how'd he'd explain it if he were to give the cliff notes on his life.
When he opened his eyes, he didn't remember this-instead, he remembered dying, burning. His body being broken down into the most basic form of mana as he stared at the broken body of a brunette teen no older than he was when he met Saber, fell in love with her and failed her yet again.
This was not his memory-at least this version of him, anyway. He had been the cleaner of humanity's failures for a long time. He remembered the graveyards he had made due his contract to Alaya-but he never remembered his summonings by a master. He remembered himself from his timeline. But he was still a kid, still alive.
So to remember the face of a boy he had never met, and having a bounded rage he couldn't trace to an origin point was a tad vexing for this iron-wrought hero. The only thing he could grasp was the brunette's true persona.
The kid's Spider-Man, EMIYA, could only laugh at the situation. Not only was his own head loopy, but his master was a member of the action figures, a cape. He remembered after his war, hearing and seeing news about the U.S. being ground zero for these people.
Individuals of extraordinary power and skill unfettered by mystery. He was a fan then, it was only after his death that realized their failings. How many possible crises did he have to partake in where one of them broke? Went mad?
All it took was one bad day for them, one contradiction in their so-called morals for them to break. Cross their line in the sand.
The inklings of this realization came when the civil war came about, and the less said about that the better. Though it did allow him to come into contact with his timelines Spider-Man, though he botched his attempt at taking out Wilson Fisk.
Did he have a grudge? No-he was eventually able to kill the Kingpin of crime. Something neither the Devil of Hell's Kitchen or the Punisher could ever do. The kid almost got him that time too. Beat the living hell out of the former master of King Arthur-didn't kill him though, just left him for the police.
Rin got him out though, it wouldn't be too long-maybe a year before he was executed.
The only really thing he could trace for having this sort of grudge towards the kid was that the brunette was really fucking close to being funhouse mirror for what he could have been.
And if his encounter with Peter when he was alive told him anything, his master was as sanctimonious as he was before the Counter Force revealed the truth of the matter. Heroes did nothing, all they did was protect the status quo. And those that crossed the line were either decried or used until they were nothing but tools.
Why Nameless? Consider it a joke-a little F-YOU to his master for the false bravado people like him had. He knew who the teen was, and knew that he was trying to keep his identity on the downlow. But EMIYA was sure everyone and their grandmother knew what the kid was hiding. Idiot...
So he would play into that, jab him and when the time came. See if the boy could really stand up to a world that didn't play ball with the falsities of superheroes. EMIYA had broken when pressure was applied, why wouldn't someone who wears a mask to reclaim some sort of control over their life also collapse.
He would be a dutiful servant, for the most part. He'd fight in Chaldea's name to reclaim the present-not too dissimilar to what he had been doing for a long, long time already. But he'd judge and steel himself when the kid came to the threshold of understanding.
He had no idea why he remembered a defeat, he had no idea why Fuyuki had been burning. He had got the details from Da Vinci. But that didn't matter. Whatever reason he called him a THIEF, it didn't deter him from his goal.
He would see if a cape could survive a game created by the cruelest organisms on Gaia's shell. And if he fell to his knees and begged for the pain to stop-EMIYA would oblige him.
"Yeah-no."
EMIYA blinked at the blunt response as he tried to approach the coffins. "Excuse me?"
Peter pointed back the way he came, "We already have a full party, adding a fourth member will just complicate things!" the brunette said territorially, adjusting himself in the standard black/white mystic code. He looked uncomfortable.
The Faker wrinkled his nose, "Will it though, I have no clue what your problem is with me master or why it seems like you try to avoid me," He gives a cruel smile to the teen bend himself to his level in a trollish manner. "You're hurting my feelings-You know that right?"
"Boohoo I'm offending a dead guy-somebody stop the presses!" he says dryly, rolling his eyes.
Just as snarky as I remember, "The max number of servants you can take into a singularity is six from what the Doctor said...you have three-do the math"
"Dude, I got an A in calculus, something that probably didn't exist when you were bashing stones together during the paleolithic-don't tell me how to count!"
The two were separated by the priest, his amber eyes were sharp "Nameless, while I appreciate your willingness to help the cause-it does nothing to purposelessly vex Peter here!" Peter gained a victorious smile that was quickly lost when the Japanese Catholic gave him a disappointed look, "I understand your feelings about him, but realize this one did not hurt you-you cannot get past this unless you give a little. We're a team, and this pointless act of snark does nothing to make that fact true!" The priest explained in a stern yet calming manner.
EMIYA and Parker turned away from the former rebellion leader with a huff. "Fine." They said in unison.
Amakusa clapped his hands together pleased. "Excellent!" his eyes sparkled somehow.
In the Central Command Room, Romani broke a sweat after having watched the brief back and forth. I am really glad he summoned him...that could have gone badly!
Romani was elbowed by Da Vinci who delivered him a cheeky smile, "What's a story without conflict and a straight man to keep the egos in check?"
"I will always be jealous of your nonchalance to stuff that can blow up in our face…" he remarked sarcastically. He turned to the mic, "Alright, the coffins are set."
The coffin was a cylinder that could hold up to one to two people (if the mission required it). It was the main way for a master to rayshift to a singularity. With safety features in place so that the individual inside could survive the process or turn off if the power went below a certain percentage or was cut off.
It would dematerialize the servants when the rayshift began and they would reappear by their master when they entered the singularity
Due to Lev's betrayal, a good number of coffins were now unusable-leaving only a few left.
Mash had already placed herself in hers before she heard the brief argument between the archer and her senpai. With a strained expression, she wished that...she wished her master would have talked to anyone the day following Nameless's manifesting.
Even after the exchange in the Archives, the high of her embrace with him had died down and doubt returned as she reflected over her master's actions and his words.
He had been so scarce, avoiding the servant in question and her.
She had done reading, from her usual novels to the articles so that she could get a better understanding of this boy that...well, made her feel an unfamiliar warmth. Yet, a deep yearning for him to open up.
You have your secrets you know...maybe he already knows you're a fre-
/Hey, are you okay in there?/ Romani's voice came over the coffin's coms. /You're mental readings are looking kind of down in the dumps/
Reluctantly, "Yes…" she said with a frown. "...he'll get over this, right?"
He answered peppily, /Oh I'm sure, I mean he didn't exactly meet this version on the best of terms-but guys are like that sometimes. They got to punch the crap out of each other before they come to an understanding./ He laughs, /Pete's a smart kid Mash, a bit rough around the edges...but I'm sure he and Nameless will be able to deal with each other eventually/
"And if they don't?"
Romani took a moment, /I'm sure Da Vinci will give me the stink eye for saying this-but, the command seals might be able to coax him into obedience if things really don't go well...yep there's the stink eye/
That would be the most pragmatic approach, Mash admitted to herself though would Peter do it? That was the question.
Was it the only question on her mind. No-far from it. A tad unbecoming for a tool...because that's all I am…
She heard tap on her coffin, she turned to see Peter giving a slightly perturbed look. "Claustrophobic?"
She shakes her head, "No, I've prepared for this for most of my life…" she admitted, knowing she had slipped.
"Really, you've prepared to be packed into a metal tube like a sardine and get shot back in time like Sam Beckett?"
She blinked, confused.
He rubbed the back of his neck, "I watched a lot of sci fi with my uncle...I forget not everyone watched those kinds of shows when they were a kid,"
She gives an amused smile, "It's fine senpai…" she bit her lip, not knowing how to put it into words. "...why aren't you in your coffin?"
"Da Vinci told me to check up on ya...plus you're better company than Mr. Bow-and-Sword over there…" he shot a nasty glare at the servant who was out of the shielder's view. "...so what's on your mind?"
She looked away from him, she was silent-she...I don't want him to worry about me… she thought hopelessly.
She could feel his eyes on her, probably wondering why he had to partner with a servant that had so much baggage.
He gave a sigh, and Mash thought he had left. She turned and found him still there. "I know I've been...for a lack of a better word been distant...Nameless isn't exactly helping that fact (I swear that guy tries to be in the corner of my eye every day)...but...I really don't have a but…" He looks up as if trying to look for some sort of guidance, "...I'm a bundle of issues sometimes...so don't-don't take offense to it I'll-you could never do anything to make me hate you Mash," he said with a reddened and almost "I...I do that enough myself…"
"Senpai, you're troubles are my troubles...if you have a problem-you can talk to me"
He gives a little chucke, "...yeah, I know-used to talk to MJ alot about this kind of stuff...my failures and my victories…" he looks to his coffin, a sly reproachable expression crossing his face "...the land of snails and Jerry Lewis await, see you on the other side partner!" he gives a cheeky smile before waving her off.
Who's MJ? Mash wondered, her coffin closed soon after. So would Peter's.
Amakusa stood and watched beside Nameless as the process began.
/Unsummon Program start./
The apocryphal saint looked to the red-garbed servant, "He is just a child you know, he's still learning…" Amakusa said as the rings of the Atlas Institute's machine began to spin, "...I don't know why you try to rile him up?"
/Spiritron Conversion start/
Nameless didn't say anything at first, "Just my way of seeing if the kid has his wits about him, you should never feel too safe-you never know when an ally can become a foe choir boy…" the archer responded in a confident manner as his body was broken down into golden particles.
/Rayshift starting in.../
"Is that a threat archer?" Amakusa remembered this archer from one of the wars, he had died near the end of it-being defeated by the master of the 3rd Saber. How that was possible was anyone's guess, he never got the details before he had to deal with that poor Matou girl with the others. But I remember being rather duplicitous all the same...not so different from me I suppose, "Because if it is, the consequences shall come in full,"
/3.../
"Is that a threat? Not very neighborly, Shirou" his voice almost acidic as he said the name.
"A warning actually, that boy will have to face challenges unheard of in the modern day...the last thing he needs is a disobedient servant that already has the ire of him and vice versa!"
"Sounds like he needs to grow up and learn to deal!" The archer gives a knowing yet deadpan smile-"How much do you really know about the present? Whatever hell the past has is nothing compared to the future…"
/2.../
"If you mean humanity's knack for destruction, I am well aware of it...that's still nothing to the age of gods and cruelties that left us with this…" more of his body was broken down as the gyrosphere spun swiftly and strongly. He inhales sadly, "...broken yet worthwhile world," he had to thank his student for the perspective. If not for what his brother did that gave him pause for his original mission in Fuyuki's war-it was that unfortunately named child, who despite his heritage, was one of God's chosen.
Nameless doesn't say anything, closing his eyes "..." his body was almost entirely gold, "...ask our master when we land about the world he lived in, and how absolutely contradictory it is…"
/1.../
Amakusa nods as his form was just about broken down, "If it will calm your nerves enough to obey him and fight with all your might-I will"
/All procedures cleared. Grand Order commencing operation./
With a flash of blue, the coffins that held Mash and Peter were gone-along with the Ruler and Archer servants contracted to Chaldea's Master…
Skies were clear on first look, it was midday. If you took a picture of it, the viewer would feel a pure serenity, Imagining the cool air and the nice heat of the sun-even if they weren't there. It was that nice.
Rolling fields and hills of green with scattered towns, big or small, in the distance.
After checking himself and his fear, Peter takes in a breath of fresh air-he hadn't expected this. He had honestly prepared himself for another Fuyuki. A ravage wasteland of brimstone and sulphur where no life had survived the corruption. This...this is nice…
Seeing this place was like a dream in a way.
"Mkyuu fou…" agreed with this sentiment seemingly,
Peter turned his head with a confused frown. Looking downwards, he found the white fluffer plopped up beside him. Spider-sense was hazy as he looked at him.
His mouth went slightly agape, "How the heck are you here?"
Fou gives a mischievous look, "Fou fou fou"
Mash came up from beside him, "He must have snuck into my coffin before the rayshift, senpai" She crouched down to pet the furry ball of fluff, who purred at the attention from the cute lavender head-shooting daggers at Pete.
I don't need this... He laconically thought Wait, how did she not notice him jump in then? he then took notice of Mash's attire-it having turned to the almost arthurian cosplay from Fuyuki, Lord Chaldeas in hand in case the leyline was close by or if they landed neck deep in danger. "So he's tagging along with us just like in Fuyuki?" Guess he's the great dane in our mystery inc...course there's only four of us, so that reference doesn't really work in this case. He shrugs
Fou leaped up on Mash's shoulder, "Must be fate, senpai '' she smiled, causing the brunette to blush.
"Maybe," he looked out into the distance "looks like the rayshift worked out well enough for us, no abnormalities and I'm pretty sure I got all my memories starting when I was three" He looks at the shielder "Everything good on your end?"
"Affirmative, master!" she responds promptly in a serious manner Peter could not find more adorable.
By hoary host of Hoggoth Pete, can you not?! "Cool!-just need to set up the leyline and we can get Amakusa here"
Mash nods, though noted the omission of his archer. "That sounds like best course of action"
Romani's voice sounded off beside them, scratchy but at the least understandable. "Peter, Mash are you there?" the visual of him did not appear, most likely due the lack of a stable connection.
"Yes, Doctor"
"Besides two extra sets of arms I'm pretty sure I didn't have before-I'd say we made it Doc" he said lightly with a joking tone. "
"Seems your usual cognitive natures are still intact-Good!" He voice cuts out for a moment, "Our readings on our end say its June 2nd, 1431-*scrick*-anything off at *scrack*-irst glance?"
"Well…" he took a once over of the land, "...nothing at…" he then took a solid glance at the sky above "...I retract whatever I was going to say!" his eyes went wide
Mash followed his eyes, "What is that? That-that shouldn't be there?!" her voice horrified.
"Wait-what are you guys seeing?"
In the sky, stretching into the distance, larger than anything Peter had ever seen (minus the Cabal mothership from the invasion years ago) was a large ring of light in the sky.
Clouds or maybe it was light circled around a discus form of dark blue. It looks larger than a freaking continent he thought in shock "...it could just be a halo...those do happen in nature, usually when moon or sunlight interact with ice crystals in the atmosphere…" his gut told him this wasn't that, much to his thinking man's mind's chagrin.
"*scrick*-no, our historical and meteorological records have nothing on that happening at any point during 1431…*scrack*-whatever you're seeing is connected to the singularity." More static was heard, "*scrack* *scrick* we should be able to able research it more on our end when our connection stabilized,"
Peter and Mash nod at each, "Will do Doc!/Yes, Doctor!"
The leyline was about ten minutes away, forty yards from a fort. So the duo made pace.
"Not a lot of war happening during this hundred years war...guess we're in a lull period if I remember my European history correctly" Peter said as he followed Mash, who was leading him to the leyline.
"Correct senpai, this year was relatively peaceful when compared to the larger picture of the war, due the armistice signed by King Charles VII and Philip the Good"
"The French against the British, a rivalry as old as time. Besides Scots and Englishman, or Welshman and Scots or...eh you get the idea…" he says lightheartedly as the warm spring air puts him at peace.
Mash was at a sort of peace herself, more of an excitement. This...this is the outside world...her heart skipped beats as she just took in the atmosphere of the landscape. She could smell the grass, breath in fresh air that hadn't been recycled or encumbered by ash. She could see the endless sky. It was more than the stories and documents told her, it was breathtaking.
"Kyuu?"
So this is the world I've been missing...she thought sadly, her grip against her escutcheon lessening for a moment as pure euphoria almost took her over. "...it's amazing…" she whimpered jubiliatedly. A few tears were released as she cringed at her weakness.
She rubbed her eyes, she felt a presence beside her. She looked up to find Pete giving her a heartwarming yet worried smile, "Seeing something beside snow or white walls is probably really nice for you, right?"
Smiling as she wiped away the tears, she nodded at his understanding. "Yes, senpai...it, it really is!" she sniffed twice, calming herself but the feeling of joy never leaving. "I always thought I'd see something like in the description of stories or in archival pictures…" She clenched her fists and gave a resolute look to her master. "...to see something I once thought so distant to me-it makes me even more excited to see what's out there when we reclaim the present," That's if you even make it-tic toc… doubt slid in, but she made sure not to show it to her senpai.
"Yeah, it beats the smog of New York...really wish I had a camera-because I could get some good snaps!"
Mash was surprised by this, "I didn't know you did photography, senpai!" she actually didn't know much about her master-besides what the Singularity F revealed and the Bugle's articles. To be fair, he is not the only one not omitting facts…
Peter shrugs, "Kind of a hobby I bumbled myself into after some stuff happened to me a few years back…" he said vaguely, Mash understanding his meaning. "...actually nabbed me a job at the Daily Bugle, the pay...it-uh, varies. Depending on if Mr. Hitler-stache is feeling generous."
This gave Mash pause for a moment, "You take pictures for the Daily Bugle?"
"Yup!" he says proudly, "But because I'm a minor, Robbie and Jonah can't exactly credit me publicly." he rolls his eyes in an unserious manner.
"So you're anonymous?"
"Basically"
Mash breathes in through her teeth, "Uh, senpai...you wouldn't happen to be the person who usually gets pictures of Spider-Man, would you?" she cringes, believing she already new the answer.
"Ah-hah, noticed my work huh? Pretty good right, I'm a real Henri Cartier-Bresson when I want to-"
"I found the pictures to be really amature or just plain bad, senpai…"
"Oh…" he exhales, "...oh…" his head droops in defeat.
Mash dematerialized her shield, and she raised her hands in defense. Her pitch was high as she went to console her master, "Um-I mean you got some good pictures-I-I thought the one where Spider-Man was being dragged through the air by the Vulture was good!"
"The one where my-his pants were pulled down?!"
"Wait-that-that sounds wrong! What about the one with..."
Fou watched with a smug smile and small snicker, lapping in the poor brunette's sorrow
in full.
Soon after, the duo would reach the leyline.
Mash laid down Lord Chaldea. And with the advantage of seeing Olga (rest her soul) create the summoning circle previously, Pete did his best to replicate the patterns of it. Tracing his fingers in the ground (which wasn't difficult due to spider-strength), he made the circle in no time flat.
What followed was the circle lighting up and the projection of one Romani Archaman appearing before them-with the additions of Nameless and Amakusa seconds afterwards.
Was really hoping that jerk wouldn't tag along he puffed out air, trying his best to steel himself near the archer who gave a sarcastic wave.
"Took you long enough master, almost thought you forgot about us" he said darkly, stretching and basking in the midday light.
Stop calling me that-"Not long enough for you not to be a jackass…" he responded under his breath, "...*sigh* alright Doc, what's next? Ask the locals to see if they've seen a golden cup around?"
"Pretty much that, locate whatever's causing the singularity and make sure to retrieve the holy grail when it's all said and done. If you don't-we'll just be back at square one" The Doctor explained.
"Righto!" He looks at his group and rubs his chin. "Does anyone know French, more specifically the dialect from around this time?"
Mash raises her hand, "I know some french...mostly the basics, but it could be enough for us to get by"
Amakusa stared off, his eyes sharpening-"Speaking of which…" he pointed towards the fort nearby, where a lone figure in the armor of the era walked towards them, slowly and steadily. "...we have company"
Sword out, the soldier of French alignment drew closer. And Peter's spider-sense flared. Muscles clenched and eyes zeroed in on the newcomer. I was wondering when my first fight was going to happen...
He maintained a neutral stance. He looked to Mash and nodded, but moved his hand in down to restrain themself for a minute. "Is that a servant? Magic creature, an extra from a Alan Jay Lerner musical?"
"I'm not reading any servants in your vicinity besides Mash, Amakusa and Nameless" The Doctor answers. "That's a human as far as I can tell, Pete"
The Frenchman came to them at the same slow pace, he stopped for a moment and his features went from suspicious to feral. Without a word, he raised his word and went in for a kill.
Alrighty then! Looking at Mash, "I got this!" The shielder nodded.
Amakusa looked confused, "Peter, what do you-"
Peter leaped forward at inhuman speed and the frenchman was down within a few seconds. The brunette first webbed his feet to ground he trekked upon.
Confused, the French soldier didn't have time to conceptualize Peter disarming him. A line of webbed the sword out of his grasp-dodged it, grabbed the handle before it got out of his reach and impaled the ground.
He let it go and then with about ten shoots, the kid from Queens had cocooned the frenchman-leaving his face exposed before the bundle flopped to the ground back first.
He sauntered over to the down soldier and crouched down to his level, "Bonjour!" He said cheekily.
Amakusa's mouth dropped, "What?"
The projection of Romani appeared beside him with a pursed expression, "I...I couldn't tell you...he apparently took martial arts back home"
"WHAT?!"
Nameless snorted before laughing at the pseudo-priest's reaction.
Mash just sighed, leaving the two tanned and white haired servants to meet her master.
The Frenchman screamed, he cursed-"MINION'S OF THE WITCH! HELLSPAWNS OF HER CRUELTY COME TO END US ALL!"
Peter looked to Mash with an unimpressed look, "Apparently they speak something close to modern English, in France, in the 15th century...how convenient" he says dryly, before webbing up the soldier's mouth but not his nose.
"MMMF! MMMF!"
"Look man, I'm only doing this because you ran at us with a sword-take a breath and count to ten. After you've calmed down, I'll remove the gunk blocking your mouth...and maybe I'll get you out this sticky sitch you're in, deal?"
"MMMMMMMFFFF!"
"I'll take that for a yes…" he rolls his eyes.
"Minion's of the witch?" Mash asked allowed,
"Yeah, he was 'saying' variations of that before you came over-I probably didn't help his view of the situation by doing this-but old habits die hard I guess" he shrugs
The Frenchman stops struggling, his breath slows. He gave a fearful look to the brunette.
Peter gives a sympathetic look, "We're not here to hurt you man, if I wanted you dead-I wouldn't have restrained you like this" he explained.
"He's right, monsieur, we're actually travelers. I think you may have mistaken us for something else"
The soldier gives them an are you serious-look as Amakusa and Nameless came up and looked over him.
"Granted we'd probably stick out in a police lineup." He points to the Archer, "Especially Anime-coat over here"
Nameless raised a brow, "Was that supposed to be an insult? Because that was kind of weak" he fired back
"You tell me, Andrews" he says with a haughty snort.
Not bothering to play along, Amakusa took the initiative. "You have nothing to fear my friend, it's actually a kind of grace that you've come to us today-we believe there is trouble brewing in your country. Though this is a rumor as of now" He gives a calm smile, he clenches his gold cross-this is very much noticed by the soldier. "Can you help us find the truth of this matter?"
"Mmmf…" he says in a soft, muffled tone. He nods.
"Peter, may I remove this...uh-substance from his mouth? I believe he's of a stable mind to talk now?"
Peter gave the go ahead.
After peeling the web off him (which had been a painful process for the Frenchman), he asked a question "We thought the church had abandoned us after the witch had gathered up all the holy men..." He let out a hollow breath, "Are you here to save us, Father?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?"
Nameless rolls his eyes at this response.
Amakusa looks at the archer, as if knowing his previous expression. "Archer, help me release this man from our Master's for lack of a better word, bindings."
Nameless sighs, but doesn't give any guff.
A few minutes passed, and the Frenchman was freed. He stood up, still rattled but having his wits about him. "I'm sorry-when I saw you from my post...I feared you were another of the Witch's horrid servants coming to finish us off…" he looks away, ashamed "...your garb is as odd as theirs were."
Wonder what his reaction would be to my working outfit? Peter thought sarcastically. "No hard feelings man, it happens"
"Yes, we all have our lapse in judgement, my son" the apocryphal priest said in understanding.
Man, he's really going for the 'Good Father' routine. Peter thought, really thanking the lord above or whatever for letting Shirou be on his side. Guy's already a godsend.
"What's this Witch you keep referring to?" Mash asked, deciding to get straight to business.
The Frenchman's eyes widened in terror. "It...it'd be better if I showed you…" he turned back to the fort. He beckoned for them to follow. "Then I'll tell you everything I know"
Not sensing anything underhanded, or any possible traps Peter obliged the soldier.
The fort, its name Vaucouleurs, built from stone, with bricks large to small was in dire shape.
Chunks blown out. Scorch marks of fires that had died or have been burned out. Banners of the ruling empire torn, and people.
The people looked almost worse than the fort. Peasants and non. Some were able to walk, but they limped or had visible damage to their person. Others...others weren't so lucky.
"What the hell…" Peter asked himself, a little rage shining through the worry.
"Hell is exactly what it is, penance for what we did…" the french sadly answered.
"I thought the British had held off the attack after the King-"
The Frenchman stopped her, "The King was one of the firsts to be killed...the british were then chased out of Orleans-perhaps slaughtered entirely by the Dragon Witch's onslaught" he says in a hollow manner. "We...we deserve this…"
Peter looks around, seeing men, women and children. Hurting or worse. "No one deserves this…" he says in a stone cold manner. He looked at the Frenchman, who was about on the edge. "Who is the Dragon Witch?"
"She…" he falls to his knees, "...she was our saviour and we foresaked her after all she did for us!" He began to break down and Peter didn't blame him. "And we can't do anything to defend ourselves, we're being cornered and killed like the sinful in a country we once hoped to defend!"
Peter remembered the something Amakusa brought up earlier, Oh you gotta be fuckin kididng me "It's Joan Of Arc, isn't it?"
The Frenchman gave a bewildered look, "Joan of Arc...is that what you foreigners call her?" he asks, voice shaking.
Peter gives an unconfirmable tilt of the head as an answer.
"Yes, a day after she died in Rouen...she arose and torched the city leaving no one alive but her army of the damned...I thought it was just a superstitious rumor at first...but when my village was attacked...I couldn't not see the truth…"
Peter looks to Mash, "Okay so we know who the bad guy is this time around...sort of tracks with what history has said about her (minus the rumors ye olde Brits came up with)."
Nameless scoffs, "Bad Guy? Master, please don't downplay this like it's a game of cops and robbers. The world isn't that black and white"
"The other you said the exact same thing, but come on dude-look around, I don't exactly see anything grey about killing civilians like their freaking lambs to the slaughter!" he fires back, "Plus, she was kind of...let's say extreme with her actions…"
Amakusa gave him a puzzled look, "What do you mean by that, Peter?"
"Besides being one to blow up stuff and ask questions later, the girl really liked artillery-she had a pretty volatile temper as a person and was also not particularly nice to sex workers...despite the fact that one of Jesus's best friends was a former prostitute," He shrugs "Going from that understanding of her...it's not too much of a leap for her to be kind of kill-happy towards the folks that ended up executing her" Not saying she isn't justified in being miffed about being left high and dry by her supporters-but CHRIST!
The Japanese Catholic gives him an unconfident expression, "No offense Peter. But I don't think that's her character at all-this must be a mistake"
It then dawned on him, he palms his face. "Look...I know she's considered a saint, after you died, I think, but let's not beat around the bush-some real brutal characters were saintified, Olga of Kiev for example! Not all of them are going to be like Martha, who was able to peacefully stop a freaking dragon with a cross and holy water" Before the townspeople killed it…
"Well you know the bible well enough…"
"My Aunt sent me to sunday school a lot as a kid-"
"But I don't think we're seeing the full picture here. There must be some other explanation"
Mash gave the priest an unsure expression, "It isn't out of the realm of possibility…" Mash remembered King Arthur-and the feeling of fear and shame the former lord of Camelot sent through her like a sharp dagger. "...history isn't always how it seems, some things may get corrupted or the real facts are blurred…"
The Frenchman spoke up, "I'm lost...but it's true...Jeanne D'arc has arisen and our country is hers now...only a few of us are still willing to fight...the rest-we're just trying to survive!"
Nameless looked about the area, "Yeah...we can see that"
Peter sent him a grave look before noting the pitying look across the red bowman's features. Peter took a breath, "Whatever the case, we're here to stop it and make sure no one else has to die" He gives solemn smile, "That's a guarantee"
"That's right, senpai! We'll make sure this country is safe, monsieur!"
Nameless shakes his head, You're not going like where this leads you kid...
The Frenchman looked at them as if they had eagles for heads. "But how!? It's all for not-"
They were interrupted, a soldier bleeding, his armor burned-but still upright, came rushing into the fort. "ATTACK!" He fell, other soldiers rushing to his aid as he howled out a message. "There has been an attack on La Charite!"
The teenage vigilante looks to the Frenchman, "Where is that?"
The Frenchman looks at a loss for words, he points towards the general direction of the town.
Peter nods, "Good enough for me!" he looks at his shielder with a battle ready smirk, "Duty calls!"
"Where are you going? You'll surely die!" the Frenchman cried out,
"If I'm lucky, but knowing my luck-I'll probably just get a few scrapes or bruises!" he says in a lark. He spied the direction of the stables, only rode a horse once-let's see if I can get the hang of it a second time!
"Tally HO!" He ran for the stables.
"Is he...is he mad?"
"Oh definitely," Nameless answered.
Amakusa shrugs, I'm still confused about his actions earlier… Something was off about his master, he retraced his memory to his fight with Nameless. He had only seen the aftermath, along with security footage. He didn't dwell much on it then, maybe it was just Peter's own brand of magecraft. But that didn't fit with his explanations about not being a magus...and he wasn't from a magus family when I originally met him he thought he could just let it lie-but at some point...the Ruler had towonder-
"But to so recklessly abandon his own mortality it's-"
Mash gives an embarrassed smile, "It's one of his strengths...for better or for worse. If he wasn't like this I wouldn't be by his side today" with that said, she soon followed close behind.
Pete felt a tad emasculated, his arms wrapped around Mash's waist as she reigned the horse that the brunette had tried to ride before it had freaked out and tried to stomp him.
I was also really hoping that I wouldn't be this close to her… he thought meekly, "Y-you are a lot better at taming a horse than I am!" he commented as they rode to the nearby town.
"I've actually never done this-it must be the spirit within me!" she explained as Nameless kept pace with them by foot.
Amakusa on the other hand rode a horse as well.
"You know, the reason I went the horse route was to keep a low profile" Pete snarked at the archer.
"And what if you didn't? Would you have been able to keep pace with me, master?" The iron-wrought hero fired back.
"Dude-I'm a normal human." he bluntly responded.
Are you though? Amakusa wondered. He didn't need the horse, he was faster than any human-but he decided to follow the act of his master.
"Yeah, aren't we all?" Nameless chuckles.
I wonder if there's a way I can cut my contract with him, the brunette wondered.
Romani's voice sounded off, though his projection did not pop up. "There's rather large magical signatures coming La Charite, along a servant-we also have some theories on what that ring may be"
"Good to know Doc, give us the full rundown after we stop some needless killing!" Peter asked.
"Yeah-figured that much...kick ass guys!"
"Roger that, Doctor!" Mash thanked him as the horse reached the outskirts of La Charite. She reigned to the horse to slow, and slow itself, it did.
Peter leaped off as Mash stroked and thanked the horse.
Amakusa leaped off as well, shooing off the animal and summoning his blade.
Mash summoned her armament, along with Nameless.
Peter divined his surroundings. Letting himself be aware with his sixth sense. There was no immediate danger-but his sixth sense told him to stay wary.
"Doc, you got anything?" The town had been wrecked, with the fires still fresh and burning.
"Our end has nothing...and there is no sign of human life at the moment" the current Director said mournfully. "Whatever was here...it's gone now…"
Peter cringed, anger finding him and his palms sparking. Everyone noted this. "We're already too late then...fuck…" He breathed in and breathed out. "...maybe we can at least gather some info from the remains…" Is that really the best you can d-
"SHIT! WE-WE-THERE'S SOMETHING LARGE AND COMING FAST!" Romani warned as the moment he finished, the impact was felt.
It roared gutterally, loud and probably being heard miles and miles away. It's dark form proud as much as it was vicious. With scales that look like diamonds would chip on contact. A mint green glowing mark that stretched across its dark grey chest. The beast looked down at the four like they were all prey before it.
His spider-sense told him where the danger was, and Peter's response was apt. "A dragon...are you kidding me?" he asked, being at a loss. "I am going to need a lot more webfluid!" he said, not caring about his identity for the moment as his form flickered from sight in abject fear.
"A DRAGON!" he heard Romani yelp. "NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT AN ACTUAL DRAGON!"
"Well...shit" Nameless added.
"That's Fafnir…" Does that mean Siegfried is here as well?
"There's something else!" Mash worryingly said as the dragon lowered its neck, and a darkly garbed figure strolled off it. "It's a servant!" she warned, raising her shield forthright.
Her blackened heels hit the stone walkway, her attire's dark skirt blowing from the winds of the fires and holding aloft a flag of white with a draconic black symbol.
Peter, much to his disgust, found her kind of beautiful-though a bit too similar to the appearance of the King of Knights-what with the pale skin and sinister yellow eyes. Even so, she was jaw dropping. Not. The. TIME. PARKER!
She spoke, with a sinister yet lovely voice of wrath. "I have been resurrected…" she smiled proudly, "...destined to bring about calamity upon all those guilty of sin…" she laughed "...I shall bring this blood filled country known as France, salvation with its righteous destruction, so says I…" She posted the black flag pole on the ground, impaling the stone below before she grins ear to ear-"...Jeanne D'arc"-with a smile that could rival the Grinch.
Peter looks to Amakusa, who was shocked to say the least. "Hate to say I told you so...but yeah-we're neck deep in it, Shirou!"