The air was thick, and she hated it. It wasn't anything unusual, at least in this burned portion of human history, but it was so much worse the further they walked. She would have preferred the musty and unkept catacombs of the Mage's Manor over this. At least there the Prana wasn't so choking, let alone corrupted.
Here, Olga felt as if she needed several seconds to drag in a good breath of air. Amber eyes looked about in the darkness, ignoring the fact that their sole remaining Servant was a veritable flashlight in the dark. A personal skill and nothing more, she was sure. Just as sure that his Natural Body Skill kept him from experiencing the same toxic atmosphere, she was subject to. Mash likely had an endurance setup attributable to her class. Shielder from the looks of it, and bless the Root for that, seeing the girl walking easily while carrying her massive shield.
Those two made sense, but there was no reason for the boy to be walking with such ease.
Someone who had no training, no skill, and no ability to reduce the thickness of the air through magical circuits, lines, or craft. He had nothing, and yet he was walking as if it didn't matter. A more inexperienced portion of her mind entertained he was too thick to perceive the change in the air, but she couldn't reason it. Not when he was capable of recognizing the burning in his hands and crackle of other power through fights. No, this was just him showing another aspect of his ability that unnerved her.
Clap. Even more so as the Servant put a hand to his back, patting him like a good pet, and the docile boy looked back up in matching order as a grateful dog. Her teeth grit in annoyance, seeing the debasement of the Chaldean Master, novice or not.
Olga cut her vision off with a cough, hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to filter the thick air. She came back with a growl, almost tasting the air like water.
"Director, a-are you alright?" Mash whispered next to her.
"I'm okay," she responded. The girl's gaze was unconvinced. "I am… I'm not the one about to face the strongest servant in this war." The misdirection worked.
"You're right, but I am not facing him alone either."
"No, but I wish we had Cu still." The girl's face did not improve. "You aren't to blame for that. It was just… I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I don't know if it's the fault of Saber alone, or if I can place blame on the 'Lord' walking here." Her hand waved at the sole source of light. "If he knew so well what was to come, he still chose not to help him."
"He said Cu wouldn't listen, a-and Lancer did make it clear he didn't care to listen." Her eyes leered at the girl, making the Homunculus shift under her gaze.
"And you would have?" The Demi-Servant didn't answer, instead only biting her lips and looking away. Olga had to take in another long drag of air, feeling like she was choking herself with the thickness of it and her own guilt. "I apologize, that wasn't appropriate. You did what you had to as a new Servant. You're a novice to this, and you acted appropriately."
"Thank you, Director."
"Yes, new to this, and you're already acting more suitable to your role than he is." The boy and his Servant did not turn to face them. Jesus walked on, a brimming light that over floweth. "At least you know your role. He doesn't, acting like he has to obey his Servant."
"… Jesus is wise, Director. And listening to him has… it's proven beneficial."
"He's hiding a precognition skill, and that makes him wise. No different than others in the past, like Gilgamesh, another God-King." The phrase made the girl pout. "We'll sort out the appropriate roles after we rescue the other Masters. That is all that has to be thought of the matter now. Can you focus on that?"
"Yes, Director." The girl nodded, before looking past her. "And… I think we're here." Olga looked back.
It was obvious what the Demi-Servant meant.
They were walking down a cavern that seemed to arc up. And at the apex of the arc glowed a sickly purple hue. Glowed like light, and it was chased away by Jesus as he approached. Olga steeled herself as she followed the Master and his Servant in.
'Brace yourself, Olga. You are the first child of Marisbury Animusphere. His blood runs within you.' She ran the thought through her mind as she breached the cavern entrance.
And upon clearing it, the idea of blood's importance was swept away.
"What… what in the Root's name?" The question spilled from her, wide eyes looking around the cavern in a panic. One hand gripped the wall, and the other Mash's willing shoulder. It was all to keep her on her feet.
What else was a respectful Magus to do otherwise, when staring into a pool of corrupted prana, spinning about the floor like virtue inoculated mud. Flowing and rising like waves of an ocean, beating against the now purple coated walls, beating against it as if trying to escape itself. And she could imagine it. Almost as if she were watching hands scratching at it! And it truly did fill the room, from the depths of what she could see and around the room's raised platforms. So few of them, like a bridge across the abyss.
And at the end of the bridge was a waterfall of the liquid, if it could reasonably be called that. Pouring out and flowing like heavy molasses. It rose over the metal cusp it ascended from, and continued to fill the lake around them. Olga would freely admit she had less fear falling into the infinite Space of the Imaginary Numbers than stepping a toe into that.
"What… what in the Lord's name?" The boy asked. "Jesus… please, do you know what that is?"
"It is the corruption of the Holy Grail," the Servant answered. At least he was willing. "The effects of trying to make copy an object of my blessing, or rather twisting and already poorly cast forgery." His sigh sounded almost somber. It had to be because the horror of this was getting to him. "Do not touch it or let it grasp you, Ritsuka. It will blind you sooner than you may deny it." The boy nodded. "And you as well Mash."
"Y-Yes, Lord Jesus." The girl responded, respectfully as always. That wasn't what caught Olga's attention.
There was a figure in front of the waterfall, at the far edge of the interconnected stone walkways. It stood tall, with an unmistakable blade in its hands. Tip to the ground, hands folded over the hilt, and adorned in armor heavy enough to qualify the figure as vehicular. Mocking as it was, it didn't change the dark aura that seemed to permeate from her.
Her, given the shape of her hips, the generous chest, and the flowing hair that seemed to ripple in tune with the mud around them. Hair a bleached white, and almost matching the skin of the figure itself. A total opposite to Archer, and yet, just as terrifying.
"Saber… that's Saber," the boy confirmed.
"Yes, Senpai. But I don't know who it is."
"Then let us ask her." If the words of Jesus did not surprise her, then him starting to walk forward did.
"Okay that's enough!" Olga shouted. "You can not try and speak to her! She killed more than half the Servants in this war, i-including my father! And Cu!"
"And yet she holds her blade, scorned of our sight." She looked back, and the Saber was… not attacking them. "She is waiting to speak, or for an approach."
"Then that makes it a trap!"
"For any other, it would be so." He looked over his shoulder, and smiled. She despised how calming his grin was. "But she has no power against the Word. So do not be afraid, for I am with you." Then he began to walk again.
To Olga's disdain, so did Mash and Ritsuka. The Director of Chaldea, the most senior member of the party was forced to follow last. She did so silently and carefully, for fear that if she stomped her foot, she would fall off and be swallowed into the mud. There wouldn't be bones left of her if that happened. So she was silent as they walked on.
Listening to the churning of the mud, watching the waterfall of it cascade downward ahead of them, and staring at the Saber that was much like a statue as they came closer. Olga worked her hands and her jaw as they approached. The mud feeling like it was… reaching out to them, splashing against the stone. She ignored it best as she could.
"And so Chaldea arrives. I was beginning to wonder if it was luck or grace that kept you alive." Saber's voice could not be ignored. Confidant, smooth…
Feminine, like royalty.
"What? Nothing to say? I know you may be enamored at the sight, but you must learn to respect a ruler when you gaze upon them. That begins by answering them when they speak unto you."
"You are… not what we expected," Olga spoke first. She felt Ritsuka and Mash look to her, and it took her a painful moment to realize who they wished to speak first. She pushed on. "Not after we faced Archer."
"Yes, I am sure Alcides put a false image of me in your minds. With words? No, likely by his surrendering to me, correct?" The woman's head fell back enough to reveal her features, and Olga was taken aback for a quick moment.
Pale white skin, matching an untainted canvas, glowing golden eyes, so much like jewels, and teeth sharp as a shark's grinning to match. She was a beauty, one with features she was sure any artist or Magus would be thrilled to study. And yet her grin, her power… it made her so much worse.
"Rest easy on that. He followed me for I was his better, in battle, in morals, and in wish. He was the son of a ruler of Gods, but I am the king of these lands."
"King… a king," Olga repeated. "And where did you rule before?"
"Nowhere. I never ruled during my first life. I was struck down by my father before I had the chance to." Her grin didn't shift with the words. "Killed for wishing the right to take the throne following his reign, and for it, I was put to the blade and discarded. My only condolence was taking his life in turn, and leaving a kingdom in ruin behind us both."
"How does that make you a king?" The boy, perhaps foolishly or bravely, asked.
"The same way any royalty ascends, by blood. You walk next to a man you call the king of all, because he is the son of another." She dipped her head at Jesus, who did not stir. "I'm sure he'll admit all the same, even if his father picked a favored human, he would still be the king to rule."
"I already rule this Earth, for I descended into hell and brought with me the souls lost in the pits." Jesus responded.
"Had to be a journey there. Something worth a legend." The woman's smile was sharp, if not shark like… then almost serpentine. "At least you're willing to talk."
"I cannot spread the Word through actions devoid of sense. Though those are heard farther than any shouts, you may take my saving of a forgotten youth as pity, malicious, or even self-serving. Only by hearing me speak will you know I save so others may find their way to my father's grace. For the Word must be shared."
"And in this land that I rule, as the only Servant of the war remaining, I am aware of all that happens. So I'm willing to listen to future subjects." Her blade cracked the ground, making Olga jump. She didn't even see the woman so much as flex an arm. "And subjects you will be."
"I won't." More foolish than brave this time, even if Saber turned a bright smile at him.
"You will. For my word is law in these lands." Her eyes looked at the miasmic torrent that cascaded around them. "And with the richness of this grail, I'll carve out the kingdom my father forbade of me, after I take out my wish."
"Your wish," Mash now. "What is you are going to wish for?" She kept herself behind the shield, and she was nearby Olga as she spoke.
"Something I cannot take yet. Not while I am still here."
"That doesn't make sense." The stupid boy.
"I forget myself, novice of Chaldea." Her glowing eyes returned to him, alabaster face pulled like a ghost's gleaming smile. "You do not know how the craft works. Ruler of the Order, would you care to elaborate." The Saber offered Olga. She almost chocked.
Almost, but she caught herself.
"O-Of course! You see, you need seven servants to power the Grail… if you are going to use it grant a wish that requires the depths of the Third Magic. Six is enough to supply wishes that are non-interfering with the human Order or world's logic…" The boy looked at her confused. She didn't have time to elaborate. Her mind was already racing. "Saber, you want something impossible."
"What I want is difficult, but that's not impossible." One hand unclasped her blade, twisting the red gauntlet in the air. "With six servants, the seventh could wish for a new body to match their new soul. They could wish for the wealth of a kingdom with their Master. They could wish for the obvious. But with seven? I could wish to return to the moment before my true death."
"You won't be able to use it though. You can't. Because you're a servant."
"And were this a war of any other time, your words would be truth. But I am king, and I have used my land to make the impossible. As all rulers do when the weight between prosperity and necessity are pitted against one another. Tell me, great Mages of Chaldea, what is the worth of a normal human?"
"Everything." The boy had to answer.
"Wrong." she had to correct. "The worth of a normal human, one without the heritage of Magical Circuits or development, is usually relegated towards breeding supplies. They can be used in some rituals, but only ever minor ones."
"Correct. As expected of the Magus charged of Chaldea. Minor rituals, the smallest of tasks. Lifting objects into the air, or discerning the quality of gems. Minor." Her laugh was worrying. "How many minor rituals must there be to equate to a larger ritual? It depends, correct?" She really didn't like it. "A better way to phrase such a quandary would be the number of souls to equate to a great one. So, how many then?"
It did not escape the director of Chaldea what the servant was implying. Nor did it curb her quickly rising horror.
"The people… the city." Then the true blaze of it hit her. "The other Masters!"
"So close, fair queen," the woman mocked. Or perhaps not. It was difficult to tell with the almost malicious smile. "Not all of the Masters. Hardly so many were needed after so many of the city were taken. So many who had their own well-crafted circuits. Tohsakas, Matous, and many others. I believe even a Edelfelt was present." Her feminine chuckle was as appalling as her words.
"I don't understand what she's saying." And of course, the boy.
"She speaks of using the lives as currency, in order to equate to a foul wish." And the other questionable member of their team responded better. Enough to make the Master's brows rise.
"The people of this town, the other Masters." Mash sounded angry. The shield in her grasp groaned. "That's… that's evil!"
"Evil as you wish for it to be, but not by my words. And as king of these lands, I am the one who decides what is just and ill. For what would be worthy a cause for the lives of this town then to adhere to my will and satisfy a desire for the kingdom's prosperity."
"It wasn't their will!"
"But it was mine. No different than a lord of heaven proclaiming a son be killed for the blood to clean those who scorned him." Olga knew it was coming. So did Mash.
"HEY!" Ritsuka shouted. "Don't say you're alike! You're nothing alike!"
"I forgive you for your burst of anger. Any would be when a harsh truth is laid bare. A lord above had his beloved son killed for others, and I took the lives of the few amongst this city to craft a better world."
"What better world?" Olga asked with a voice like ice. "What better… what could be worth sacrificing the lives of forty-seven Masters!"
"Forty-seven? That's a far greater number than fell to me."
"What?"
"There were not forty-seven Masters who fell here. Only a few. No more than the digits in my hand." Her gauntlet held itself in front of them. A heavy metal, black as the sludge of the grail, but painted red. "I only needed to gather a few, just… enough."
"Enough for what?" The king's sin was sharp as her dark blade, and pale skin almost splitting.
"To make my impossible wish come true." Saber clenched her gauntlet, and from nothing blood spilled. Olga could see it only for one thing, what Saber described. "So I may crush my father's heart."
"That's sick. You're sick." The boy was an idiot! Even if he wasn't wrong.
"Sick? Yes, my father said much the same." Saber spoke, so Olga was silent. "It was why he claimed I could not inherit the throne, and so began a war that tore apart the greatest kingdom the earth had ever witnessed. A war that took the life of every knight of that kingdom, then ultimately the king himself." She described genocide, and then she laughed.
"You cannot alter your future with a desire born of the past, Mordred." Jesus spoke, more than Olga expected.
"Mordred," she repeated. "Of course, the son of King Arthur, the traitorous knight!"
"That is I," Saber responded, bowing her head as if given an honorary title. "I who will tear out a new kingdom robbed of me, with powers that will far supersede my father."
"That won't work, it can't work." Mash knew better.
"But it will, for I have the means to make it so. The means for a child to best the parent that wished them dead." Her smile never shifted. "All those servants who had their own children's blood on their hands, all those who looked to me, and saw their own child seeking their death."
Those golden eyes fell on Olga, and she felt her own amber gaze shift, mouth sputter on the thick air. The gaze alone held power to make her gasp for life.
"A desire to kill a father who killed me. You recognize the power of the Graphs to which my soul is written. Do you think Heracles, the killer of his own three kids, would be able to best me? Do you think Boudica, that mad Celt, forgave herself for throwing her daughters at the arms of Romans?" The Berserker's name, now known, hit Olga. "And then what of you, Mash Kyrielight."
The girl raised her shield.
"You know of the Graph that dwells within you now. You know of it for the Lord of the highest kingdom spoke of it to you. What does the noble, the pure, Galahad have to think of his father? Did he have anything else but scorn for a man who besmirched the honor of his wife, of another woman?"
"Don't talk to her like that. You don't know her." But the boy beat her to it. A Master between a pair of Servants, and one strong enough to rule a war.
"I do know her, better than you," Mordred returned. "A boy who fumbled into a war, who scratched for a line to hold and settled on a man who, despite having the power to twist the heavens and command the soul, would rather be lain up on a cross and sent to hell." Jesus did not argue. "Why do you think of him so highly? Is it because his father promised him so much for his sacrifice, while yours offered you none?"
Ritsuka was not the only one to watch with wide eyes.
"You do not need to be surprised. I have said that I rule these lands, and what king am I if I am ignorant of those who dwell within it. You may not have your future set out by me, but I am aware of what will mark the lands to come." Her eyes turned to Olga. "Just as you are here by your father's will, one who was killed to see his dream, and you blindly following it." She laughed, giggled even. "You are the most curious combination of entitled and submissive, more willing to follow your father's ideal than craft your own."
"You cannot free yourself from the truth without binding yourself to lies," Jesus spoke. "Do not speak of ridding me through a wish of a corrupted tool."
"I don't believe anything else could push you away. Certainly nothing divine," Mordred answered. "How can I imagine a blade of heaven giving you pause? It would be like saying a knight of my father's round ordering him. It does not make sense. But the machinations of another divine… working against you." Her grin sharpened. "That has merit."
"It has falsehoods and nothing more. As false as the history you wish to make. No man, no noble, no mystic, no saint, can recraft what has been spoken." His voice was strong in the thick and pungent air. "You will not have your way."
"And how will a pious man stop me?" She looked to Ritsuka. "How will an untrained plebian oppose me?" The boy did not move, keeping his gaze on the Saber.
"Because he is not alone." Olga was not about to let him stand alone. "Because I, the commander of Chaldea by my choice, stand with him."
"And I'm here with them, the carrier of Galahad's spirit, and he wishes for me to act against you as well." Mash's shield was the support at their back. "And you are outnumbered, Mordred Pendragon."
"Outnumbered? Yes, I am. Though I have always been. Be it under my father or opposed to him, I never once had an army behind me," she spoke on unperturbed. "But now I have more than that. I have a source of Prana, a device of grand facsimiles and design. One that may assist me."
"You won't use it. You want to kill your father too badly. It is written into your Saint Graph." Olga knew it as truth. "So you won't waste a wish on us."
"No, I won't. But I may use it as a source of distraction." She raised her hand. Mash put the shield in front of them all, Olga falling to a knee with hand stretched, prepared to fire a Gandr spell beneath the arm of the shield. "No, no, no, not in that way." Her gauntlet held itself above her head.
SNAP! Then the clink of the metal sounded like a bell in the air.
The miasmic pools about them rippled, the churning sound almost making Olga's own gut fold and twist in revulsion. She grit her teeth and stared on, determined to trust at least the protection of Mash, Galahad, and Jesus. With them, the pools… they must be kept away. She couldn't believe the man who proclaimed to see what would come would walk them into a trap.
"Olga Marie Animusphere. You are a tool of your father's will, but I may at least see you as a ruler of Chaldea. It would be against my post as king to ignore the authority you have." The knighted, corrupted, Ruler of Treachery spoke. "Do you wish for me to offer you a gift for venturing to my kingdom?"
"I have no desire for what your kingdom has."
"You do not? And I heard you speak so much of what you were searching for in this land." Glowing eyes gleamed with her smile. "I may not offer them all, but I can share with you one." Cold realization warred with the heat of the cavern.
And as the Saber dropped her arm, one deep poisonous spew of the grail's mud split. The waterfall becoming two, and revealing behind it a figure gowned in a familiar suit. Olga almost screamed.
"Do you recognize her? Can you call to her?" The Sabe questioned. "She screamed when she fell here, and made demands of me. It was an appropriate act to punish one who is ignorant of the lord of the land." Glowing eyes never left Olga. "Can you not name her, Leader of Chaldea? Are you not a king?"
"She's… she's Gudao, I-I think. She said she didn't like her real name." The girl was gripping her shield to the point of bending it. "She said that… that she'd help protect anyone who needed it. She was the forty-seventh Master."
"The forty-seventh, of forty-eight." Mordred gripped her blade again. "The last of your crop surviving. Many would call that a blessing!"
"Where… Where are the others!" Olga almost roared. Her circuits sparking with spells she could throw at the Servant. "Where are the rest of them, behind the rest of the mud!?"
"You speak ignorantly, and after I shared a perch to you." The Traitorous King did not lose her smile, but her gaze dropped. "So much like this Master, and so unlike a true ruler. How pitiable, losing sight of your place by the sight of what you have lost."
"You had her trapped!"
"I had her punished, I am sure no differently than you would have any who spoke ill of your name or land." She would not answer that. "I will not answer your question, for I have given enough favors. You have offered me none in turn."
"We don't owe you any." Ritsuka stepped forward. Foolishness and courage waring again. "You've attacked us, tried to kill us, three times already."
"For attempting to face the servants to my kingdom, that was appropriate. It is another favor I have not tried to strike you down again." Her armor shifted with her gaze, as if it were a part of her. "If you admit to me being king of these lands, and swear your loyalty, I will allow you to live. I will even return your Master to you."
BOOM! Olga thought an earthquake decided to strike the cavern, inopportune. It wasn't until she saw the threaded cracks in the ground she realized Saber had merely stomped her heel.
But it came as command to the stone, making the system jut out and carrying the servant with her. Olga didn't know her name, only members of Team A being at the fore-front of her mind, but the red-hair was familiar, cut short and tied on one side. As tall as she was, but looking as if she were dropped in the same hell they had been, but worse. Still, almost dead, and almost falling off of the stone shoot she was carried on.
"Do you wish to take her?" Saber asked again. "You only need to call me king." Olga shifted her lips.
"You may be a king," Ritsuka started instead. "But you are not mine."
"So close, so very close," the king of treachery answered. "Then who is your king? Do you truly believe the Servant beside you is yours? I agree with the Lord of Chaldea that you are foolish to do so, offering your all to a man who is designed to be beneath you."
"He is my king, and your insults against him do not change that." The boy stood before the Saber. Taller, but wildly outclassed in all measurable ways. It was a miracle of Jesus that he did not shake. "He is the one who gave me strength when I was abandoned. He was the one who gave me joy when my life was harshest. He is my Lord, my king, and I will not bend my knee to any ruler of this Earth."
The bubbling of the miasma made Olga's stomach roll. The smell of rot in the air kept her from feinting. The smile the Saber had, sharp as the blade sticking to the ground, sharpened itself on her fragile wits.
"Loyalty, the kind that any Lord would be blessed to have. And I know you are not to bend yourself to me, Jesus of Nazareth."
"I will not." The Son of God answered. His voice the only one to rise above the Saber's.
"Of course not. You are so alike the woman who calls herself a Magus. Akin to her father, mimicking him to the point of mockery, and yet feels pride in her acts. I'm almost curious how you can claim such devotion to your father after what he did to you. Was it the promise of power that let you to be tortured by his will? Was the idea of taking his kingdom from him against your wishes, or his?"
"Don't talk about him like that." Mash intervened. "You don't know any better."
"Galahad, or perhaps Mash, either way, it is little surprise that you swear yourself to defend him. One part of you claimed the grail to ascend to the heavens, and the other has been swept up by his power. It is a wonder if one is dependent upon the other." The saber chuckled, and Olga felt bile bubble in her stomach at the sound. It was demonic. "Even amongst the round, you were the most eager to remain pure for the Lord.
"You speak in circles and do not direct," Jesus interrupted. "For a king you be, as you claim, you show nothing but depths of power. No purpose, no stones, no goals. What do your words mean, if no actions you've made match."
"Did I earn your anger, Son of God?"
"Only my pity has your visage. All else is reserved for patience."
Perhaps it was another miracle of his name, or the testament of a skill associated with his unknown class. But whichever it was, Olga saw the Jesus do something to Saber.
Make her frown.
"Pity. For a king?" She returned. "I'll take your anger, your sorrow, your fury, your despair, and all else. As a king, I will take them and use them to make a better land, for I then know what troubles you. What may I do with your pity?"
Jesus held out his hand.
"Reach out to me, and ask how you can be saved. Do this, and I will aid you."
"HAHAHAHAHA! Truly you are a king as well! Of no lands on this earth, for certain, but a king nonetheless! HAHAHA!" Her voice scratched at Olga's ears, clawing at the cavern and making the thick mud ripple. "Take this Master of yours then! Take her and save her, as I know you promised to do!" her hand flicked off her blade.
Guda fell from the stone. Olga stared in horror. Then she sighed in relief as Ritsuka caught her.
"I got her!" He shouted as he walked back, struggling with the girl's form, lithe as she was. "I-I got her! My Lord! What should I-"
"Place her on the ground." The command made no sense.
"WHAT?!" She made her concern known.
"Place her back upon the ground and step away from her, Ritsuka." Jesus did not misspeak. "And do so quickly." To Olga's mounting horror, the boy did just that.
"And now you let a young girl lie on stone. Is that because she has not sworn to your kingdom in the sky? I did see you offer bread and bed to both the young man and woman with you. Are you going to let a girl like until she calls you Lord? Hahahaha, truly a king." That was enough.
"Mash, move!" Olga ordered, already stepping forward, she fell to her knees in front of the Master, following the lessons taught to her by her father and Romani. She had to ensure the girl was alive. Pulse, breath, lack of wounds, all there. Prana, checking for burnt circuits. Some and none. "She's unconscious. But that's all she is."
"Olga Animusphere, move away from the girl." She rounded on the man.
"No! She is a Master of Chaldea and someone I have searched this entire city for! Mash! Help me lift her! If we can get her to safety, we may be able to summon another Servant."
"Brave of you to suggest that in front of me."
"I am no coward!" Amber eyes fell back on the Shielder. She was not moving. "MASH!"
"But… Jesus said-"
"I don't care for what he said! I'm the Director of Chaldea, and it is our priority to save all Masters under our care!" She put the girl in her lap, trying to support her. "Who knows what Mordred has done to her! We have to save her!" Olga shouted. "We can-GUH!" Her breath was robbed from her, a vicious pain suddenly jutting through chest. Amber eyes fell down quickly to see why.
She saw a blade, embezzled and smooth, stained red in her sternum. She saw her dark attire darkening further as blood began to flow from it. She saw the pale hands grasping the blade, and she felt them pushing against her still.
Breathless, she looked at Guda, and saw the forty-seventh Master's wide eyes staring back at her.
"See the loyalty of a subject who has turned. See it and know your fate was your own design."
The mocking words echoed out as the Director of Chaldea tried to speak, but only whimpers and wet spots of air came out. She reached up to try and grasp the blade, but felt her hands softening under her own command. The girl on her lap, instead pushed the blade further and, without strength or breath to save her, Olga fell back.
The knife fell out of her, and her own blood flew like a child's fountain above her eyes. She didn't have the strength to scream.
"Director!" "NO!" A pair of voices shouted as Olga stared up at the dark cavern's ceiling. Mash's shield slammed down in front of her, and she heard the sounds of a struggle in front of her, but it was a sound quickly leaving her. She tried to breath still, and she swallowed more blood than she did air.
What happened? What… happened?
Author's Note: Fate happened.
I feel bad saying that.