A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 3

The girl wailed as though her heart was breaking, as she sobbed over the still form of her friend. The Director continued to work her magics over the girl's body – she wasn't dead yet, but she was moments away from meeting whatever being would take her onto the next life – and the Director was still fighting, still berating her spirit to do something, send some form of aid to them, trying to keep this girl alive a moment longer, in the hopes a miracle would occur. Kratos had seen this sight thousands of times across countless battlefields, had seen this drama play out again and again – most recently in the home of one of his friends. Miracles did not happen, in his experience.

"Hey? Mind if I lend a hand here?"

Kratos whirled, gaining his feet in a split second, axe out, instinctively placing his body between the girls and the voice, the man who had snuck up on all of them.

Blue. That was Kratos' first impression of the man, blue hair, blue and white robes, trimmed with gold in some spots, and a hood covering his face. Wiry, but likely powerful, from what Kratos could see of his build through the thin, tight black shirt that covered his upper body. His posture was relaxed, almost leaning back, as he held a wooden staff across his shoulders, by all appearances trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"Whoa there, big guy. Not looking for a fight here." His voice was casual, almost completely unconcerned with the axe Kratos was pointing at him. "You folk are the first living humans I've seen in weeks, ever since Saber turned this place into a pyre."

"Servant…" whispered Mash.

That word again. Some part of Kratos was beginning to think there was more meaning to it that the simple definition of 'one in service to another'.

The man's face split in a cocky grin. "Yep, that's me! Servant," he sighed here, his grin deflating. "Caster, and the only remaining Servant from this messed up Grail War. You saw what Saber did to the rest of them, given that I felt Assassin here a few moments ago, and now I don't." He tilted his head, a gesture that put Kratos in the mind of the wolves that pulled his sled; and regarded the Spartan. "Guessing that was your doing?"

"If you mean the spirit with the skull mask, then yes, his defeat was, as you put it 'my doing'," responded Kratos. The man did not seem hostile, and yet…..something about him…..

Cackling, the man clapped his hands together, his grin back. "Best news I've had in weeks! I've been trying to take that guy out since everything went to hell, but what with him being as slippery as he was, and me being a Caster, I never managed to get him before his buddies showed up. Why, oh why couldn't I have been summoned as a Lancer?"

Kratos was getting more confused the more this man talked. He spoke of summoning….was this how Kratos had come to be in this strange city?

"But you, big fella, you took him out, and more so, you did it quickly." The man regarded him for a long moment, and Kratos felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up.

He KNEW this man. He had never seen this man before in his life, not in Greece, not in the Nine Realms – the blue hair alone was unique enough that Kratos would have remembered meeting him - but the way this man was looking at him….it was familiar. He had been looked at like this before, by someone who had been attempting to see through the Spartan as though he was a puzzle to be figured out, some new wrinkle to be examined down to his very bones.

If possible, the man, 'Caster', grinned even wider, showing canines that were a bit too sharp to be fully human. "Freakin' GREAT! If things were different, I'd be asking you for a friendly fight – wouldn't be as good as if I was a Lancer, but I'd still never forgive myself if I passed up a chance like that, but we've got no time for that now. Girlie!" he barked, gaze passing over Kratos' shoulder. "You want my help with making sure that girl – and from what I'm feeling, she's the Master here – to see another sunrise?"

Kratos didn't take his eyes off the strange man, but he could hear the Director muttering to her sprite in hushed voices. Just as with Kratos, her decision came quickly. "Fine, what's one more helpful stranger? Get over here, Caster!"

The man glanced at Kratos, and despite his face still being hidden by the hood, Kratos could feel the man's eyebrow raising in question at the Spartan. With a resigned sign, Kratos lowered his axe, allowing the man to stride past him, still largely unconcerned with the former God of War entirely. Upon reaching the girl, he made a noise of disappointment. "Sheesh, she's messed up even worse than I thought." He pulled his hood back from his face, scrutinizing the girl closely. His fingers drummed a beat on his staff as he considered. "Old witch didn't teach me much in the way of healing magics, so we're going to have to get creative here." He rummaged in his pouches for a moment, then pulled out a handful of stones, upon which were carved runes.

Runes Kratos could read.

Those were runes of the Nine Realms – runes Kratos had learned to read over Fimbulwinter, one of the few times the son had been the teacher, and the father, the student.

Who WAS this man?

Unaware of, or unbothered by Kratos' scrutiny, Caster selected a handful of runes, putting the rest back into his pouches, and began laying them around the girl's body. "Ok, this is what we're going to have to do. I can't heal this – I always was crap with the healing magics, no matter how much the old hag tried to beat them into my head,"

"Then what use are you, Caster?" asked the Director, her tone cutting. "You weren't wrong about this girl being our only Master. Frankly, we can't lose her."

"Getting to it, getting to it, keep your shirt on…..or don't" said the man, with a wink. Ignoring the Director's indignant squawk, he continued. "I can't heal her, but I CAN put her into stasis – she won't get any better, but she won't get any worse. It'll let her keep until you CAN get her to someone who can put her back together. The magic should hold even if I get killed, so you'd be good on that front, but you'll need to choose a trigger to bring her out, so I can work it into the spell." He set the last stone into the pattern around the girl's body, and Kratos saw the carved runes within the stones flash, and begin to glow with power. "Best I can do on short notice. So, what'll it be?"

There was no hesitation on the Director's part. "Do it. Not like we've got other options here." She considered for a moment. "Can you make the trigger for the spell for when she returns to the Chaldea medical lab?"

"The girl will awake from her sleep when she returns to the Chaldea medical lab," whispered Caster, his voice low, his eyes closed. The runes pulsed, and his eyes snapped open. "Yep! Looks like I can manage that. So, unless there are any objections?"

"Please, Caster…..save her…" begged Mash.

The smile the man gave the girl was a far cry from his previous cocky grins, this one was soft, even gentle. "Well now, I can't let a pretty girl like you down, can I? So, I have to make this work!" With a flourish, he spun his staff around his head, before slamming the butt into the ground, the runes, both around the body of Gudako, and on his staff, flaring with power. He concentrated, sparks flying between the carved runes around the girl, power building as Caster muttered under his breath. Still holding his staff, he knelt before the girl, drawing a long, wickedly sharp thorn from his belt. Carefully, never losing his hold on his staff, he pricked the girl's fingertip. "Sleep, child, sleep until you are again under the roof of Chaldea, in their house of healing…."

The power that had been building flared up, spiking, then vanished.

Mash was the first to break the silence. "Did…did it work?" she asked.

The cocky grin was back. "Like a freakin' charm!" crowed Caster. "And now I've got a story to tell Teacher the next time I see her. She might even be proud enough of me to only beat me half to death!"

The more Kratos heard of this man's teacher, the more he began to wonder if perhaps there was a training method that made the Spartan methods look gentle in comparison.

The man quickly gathered up his spent runestones, placing them into the girl's pockets. "And on that subject, we need to be somewhere else. I'm not the only one who realized you lot were here, just one of the closest. Particularly with a giant bonfire like that one, there," he said, indicating Kratos.

"He's right," yelped the sprite. "We've got a Servant incoming, and at the speed he's moving, he'll be there in minutes!"

"Yeah, that'd be Berserker," he sighed, the Director giving a squeak of fear that was in odds with the controlled demeanor she had been projecting. "He was enough of a pain to fight before he got blackened, but he was mostly keeping to his territory, but something," and at this, he again looked right at Kratos in that odd, familiar way. "Got him stirred up enough to come hunting, and we don't want to be here when he gets here, not with me without a Master, and the girl down for the foreseeable future." He rose to his feet, dusting off his robes. "I've got a safe house not too far from here where we can hole up in, plan our next move. Big guy, can you carry the girl?"

Wordlessly, Kratos nodded, and looked to the Director for permission – temporary ally or not, the girl was still one of her people. Somewhat unsurprisingly, she gave her assent, her face showing that she was quickly growing exhausted from the pace at which events were moving. Kratos knelt and lifted the girl in his arms, cradling her carefully. She was cold, unnaturally so – like as not a result of Caster's spell. As he stood, Caster walked over, and peered down at the Director. "So, lass, piggyback, or bridal?"

Kratos wasn't sure if the Director's face flushed as red as it did from embarrassment, or anger. "EXCUSE ME?"

Caster cackled again, something that was becoming a common event. "What, you think you're going to keep up with us with those twig legs of yours?" He shook his head. "Not happening. I may not be as fast as when I'm a Lancer, but I'm still plenty fast – we're going to have to cover a lot of ground pretty damn quick, and while I know those two won't fall behind, even if you reinforced your legs like that Tohsaka girl, you'd burn yourself out trying to keep up with me at the pace I'm going to set. Big guy can't carry you; he's already got one person to worry about. And the eggplant wouldn't be able keep the pace carrying you, she's too green. Running at full tilt while carrying someone and ducking obstacles is a learned skill, believe me. So? How am I carrying you?"

With a sigh of utter defeat, the Director deflated. "Kneel down, and keep your hands to yourself, or I WILL choke you."

Snickering, Caster dropped to one knee, allowing the Director to climb on his back. "I'll be a veritable angel, girlie. Just be glad I'm not my uncle Fergus." He glanced back at the two of them. "Now, keep up. I'm not slowing down for anything, skeletons, Servants, angels, devils, or anything in between."

The man had not been boasting, he set a brutal pace, practically flying through the ruined city. Kratos had to push himself to keep up, the man's speed just on the edge of what Kratos considered to be his maximum. And while the other girl, Mash, had lagged behind, it hadn't been by enough for her to lose sight of them, so she was only seconds behind when Caster's pace began to slow, as he darted down a set of stairs, taking them beneath the city streets. As they descended the stairs, Kratos felt a familiar sensation wash across his skin.

A protection stave – or magics of a similar bent, given how the Director was muttering something about a 'Bounded Field'. Hopefully it would ward them as well as the one around his home in the Wildwoods had protected his family for all those years.

There was little light in the tunnels, but the object on Kratos' belt brightened as it always did in dim light, and with a muttered word, Caster caused the tip of his staff to light up, as he continued to lead them on.

"Should be right, yep, right here." Caster pushed a door open, and led them into a small room. Kratos could not guess what its function might have once been, but it had clearly been repurposed into a living space, if a crude one. A few chairs, a simple cot, what could only be some provisions on one of the two surviving tables – water held in flasks made of some strange, clear material, and metal cylinders with images of food on them. Thankfully, there was light, Caster had set a few of his runes into the walls, and they sprang to life as he entered the room.

Their destination reached, Caster set the Director down, the girl staggering to a chair – it appeared that the rapid pace of their flight had not fully agreed with her. "Go ahead and set her on the cot, big man. Most comfortable place for her for the moment. The rest of you sit; and help yourself to something to eat or drink. Not the best fare, but it's what we've got."

Kratos gingerly laid the girl down on the cot. He wasn't sure if she could even feel anything in her current state, but still tried to make her repose as comfortable as possible. As he stood, a voice called out to him.

"Excuse me, sir?" Kratos turned, to see the violet-haired girl holding out one of the clear flasks to him. "Did….did you want some water?"

Wordlessly, Kratos took the flask from the girl, feeling the curious texture of the flask in his hands. It was oddly soft and pliable; unlike anything he had ever seen before – like so much of this place. Thankfully, it was simple to open, a simple twist of the seal on the top separated it into two parts, and Kratos quickly drained the flask.

The city had been hot, and the man's pace had been quick. The water was a welcome thing, even if it had an odd, metallic taste to it. "Thank you," he said, crumpling the empty flask in his hands, and tossing it aside. "The water is appreciated."

"Do you want another?" asked Mash, half-turning to pick up another flask from the table.

Kratos held up a hand. "No girl…." Names, not titles or nicknames. It was something he had worked to change over Fimbulwinter, and it would not do to fall back into old patterns now. Discipline – no matter how strange his current situation was, he could not slide back into old habits. "Mash. See to your own thirst first. Should I require more water, I will get it."

Mash flushed for a moment, then smiled, a bright, happy smile that, for a brief moment, chased away the shadows that had been clinging to her. "Ok. And…..thank you. For saving me, the Director, and senpai. Both of you….," she said, turning her attention to the blue-haired mystery, who was learning against the wall by the door, watching them.

That familiar, cocky grin again. "Wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't save three fine ladies like you three. First time I've gotten to act like a proper hero since this whole mess of a war started." He turned his gaze to each of them in turn, and for the first time, Kratos noticed his eyes. Red, and oddly slitted – they reminded him of the Wulvar – but it was just one more odd thing about their new ally. Mash had taken a seat next to the Director and was sipping at her flask of water. The Director was starting to get her color back, holding one of the flasks in her hand, but making no movements to open it just yet – possibly waiting for her stomach to settle. Kratos, unsure if the seats would hold his weight, chose to copy Caster and leaned against the wall by the cot, staying near the wounded girl.

"So, if we're all fed and watered, how about a round of introductions? It'll probably take Berserker an hour or two to get bored and wander off, and if we're going to be working together to fix this fucked-up Grail War, I'd like something to call you guys other than 'girlie' or 'big fella'." He glanced from one of them to another. "Hell, I'll even go first. Servant, Caster, you already know that much. My True Name is Cu Chulainn, and like I said, I'm the last surviving uncorrupted Servant from this Holy Grail War."

The name clearly meant something to the two girls, Kratos could see the recognition on their faces, something that obviously pleased the man. "Heard of me, have you? Good to know my legend hasn't dimmed in the present day – take that Goldie!"

The Director nodded, her face back in its serious mien. "Ireland's Child of Light, the Hound of Chulainn – Chaldea is familiar with your titles and legend, Caster. Given you're practically the Heracles of Ireland, that would explain why you've survived so long…."

Ireland? Ireland….where had he…OH.

"I see even the big guy's caught on, guess my name's travelled to wherever you hail from, huh?"

Kratos grunted. "One of my comrades was originally from shores near to your own. At times, he would tell us tales to pass the time. One of them was your legend – how you fought off an army singlehandedly and died on your feet." Another grunt, an approving one. "A worthy death – a warrior's death. I enjoyed the story."

The story had also mentioned how Cu Chulainn was the son of Lugh, the God of Light of those lands, making this 'Servant' a demigod, much like Kratos himself, before he had usurped Ares. The comparison to his half-brother, Heracles, was even more apt. That he was a god was….less troubling than it had once been. If nothing else, the events of the past four years had proven to him that not all gods were evil, but still…..he would watch this man carefully.

Not all gods were evil, but enough were. Caution was warranted, always.

Caster's grin only grew in intensity. "Probably my finest moment, if only because I got to spite that absolute bitch Medb." He cackled. "So, that's who I am. Ladies, you want to introduce yourselves?"

A gaze passed between the two women in the room, before the Director began speaking. "Director Olga Marie Animusphere, head of the Chaldea Security Organization. And this is Mash Kyrielight," she said, gesturing at the other girl. "A Demi-Servant of Chaldea, Shielder Class. And Ritsuka Fujjimaru – the only Master we have available to us at immediate, over there on the cot." Blue light flickered at her wrist, and she held up her sprite. "And this is Doctor Romani Archaman, Chadlea's Chief Medical Officer – and the highest-ranking officer we have left at the moment."

"Hello!" waved the doctor, his cheer in contrast to his haggard appearance.

Four pairs of eyes turned to Kratos.

"Kratos….." he began, debating how much to reveal. Best to get it over with. "Of late of what was once the Nine Realms, now Eight. Once of Greece."

To his surprise, the first reaction from them wasn't the horrified recognition he had been bracing for, but, oddly enough, confusion, from the sprite. "Wait….what language is that?"

All parties turned a baffled gaze on the Doctor's flickering image. "He's speaking English, Roman. At least, that's what I'm hearing." Olga glanced to Mash and Cu, both of whom nodded. "Are you hearing something else?"

"Sounded like something Scandinavian, but nothing I'm familiar with." The Doctor's image shrugged. "I'm running it by Da Vinci now to see if she can get a translation program running – but you three are hearing English?"

"I believe I may have the answer for this." Kratos slipped his right bracer off, revealing a thin band of metal around his wrist, runes carved into its surface. "Since Ragnarök I have become something of an arbiter to the surviving realms. It is now common knowledge that I am an outsider, and those with disputes have begun seeking me out as a neutral party to quarrels," Kratos could feel Caster's eyes on him, something in his story having greatly piqued the man's interest. "While I speak the common tongue of the lands, not all who come to my doorstep do, and my comrades who can translate have duties and responsibilities of their own; and cannot always be there." Freya was busy trying to rebuild Vanaheim after years of war, and then Asgardian occupation. And Mimir's reputation was also beginning to rebuild itself, he was starting to be requested for his knowledge – Smartest Head Alive indeed. Sigrun, too, occasionally spirited Mimir away for a time, two of them happy to just spend time with each other. It was glaringly obvious to any who observed them for any amount of time that they still loved each other deeply. "So, Freya crafted this for me – she said it would let me hear their words in the common tongue of Midgard and change my words so they could understand me." He slipped his bracer back on, covering the bracelet again. "The magics Freya wove into it must not function with whatever magics you are using to speak with your Doctor Romani, that, or the distance is just too great."

Caster's eyes were as sharp as the point of a spear. "So, just to check, you said Freya. You mean the goddess, Freya, right? Wife of Odin, brother of Freyr, Queen of the Aesir, and all that?"

"Former wife of Odin, yes, but otherwise correct." Kratos stated. The Director looked as if she had been stabbed, her already pale face having drained of what little color It had. "She is a friend, though she was not always." Which was as much as he was going to say about his still complicated relationship with the woman.

"And…..Ragnarök," continued the Caster, no sign of the cocky and almost playful personality he had been displaying until now. "You're talking as if that was a recent thing for you – would I be correct in that assumption?"

Slowly, Kratos nodded, confused, but waiting to see where the man was going with this.

Cu Chulainn grinned like a madman, turning his head to look straight at the Director. Who….honestly, Kratos had seen corpses that had looked better. She was ashen, her eyes wide. Cu opened his mouth to say something but was quickly cut off.

"No." Olga Marie's tone was flat, brooking no argument. Cu Chulainn apparently didn't care.

"It's the only explanation that makes sense, lass. You know, it, I know it, and your Doctor there knows it. Hell, the cute little Shielder would know if it if she knew what we know." He crossed his arms over his chest, the mirth and amusement once again gone. "Denying it isn't going to do any of us any good here."

"I know, I KNOW!" shrieked the woman, her hands fisting in her hair, as her head sank into her lap. "The headache, the paperwork – how the HELL are we going to explain this? It's already going to be hell trying to tell the Clock Tower 'oh yes, on our first excursion, something went horribly wrong, most of Chaldea was killed in an explosion, multiple Heirs are dead or in cryostasis, a bloody DOCTOR is the highest-ranking member of Chaldea left, while the Director has found herself out in the damn field!" She shuddered. "That's already a nightmare – but now I have to deal with the goddamn MULTIVERSE bullshit on top of that?" She moaned out loud. "And he's either here by sheer bloody accident, or WORSE, the KALEIDOSCOPE himself is involved, either because he thinks we need the aid, or because he's just bored. Which is worse, I don't know." She began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around her body. "Mash, as Director, I'm ordering you to kill me, right now. Let Roman deal with this headache."

Both Mash and the Doctor squawked, one in shock, missing the sarcasm, the other in indignation. Kratos might have found it amusing if he wasn't so completely lost. "Explain," he snapped, his temper beginning to show in his voice. "What is it about my presence here that has you so unsettled?"

"Where do I even fucking begin?" asked the Director, pulling her head up from her lap. For a long moment, she stared at Kratos, and he could see her mind turning over and over itself as she re-evaluated the Spartan. "Mash, myself, and Fujimaru are from the Year 2015 AD," she held her hand up, forestalling anything Kratos might have said. "I know the date won't really mean anything to you, I'm including it for context – it'll be relevant in a bit." She sighed. "My father created the Chaldea Security Organization to monitor for threats that could wipe out humanity – all of it, all across the world, and to prevent them from coming to pass. A short while ago, we started detecting something that would destroy humanity at the end of 2016 – something here, in the past. This is Fuyuki City in Japan – it's an island nation far, far to the east of Greece, in the year 2004."

Kratos blinked. "So, you believe that I have been pulled forward in time, where you have moved backwards?"

Olga Marie grin was the grin of ashes and rubble. "Oh, if ONLY it was that simple." She laughed for a moment, borderline hysterical, before she sighed again and continued. "We don't have that many records, but from what little we can tell, Ragnarök happened about three thousand years ago – so in that respect, you're not wrong in that you've travelled forward in time." She frowned. "The problem is what you're telling us about Ragnarök differs from what we know happened. Freya dies, as do most of the other gods, and almost all of humanity, save for two humans - Líf and Lífþrasir – go on to repopulate Midgard."

She met his eyes, her gaze hard. "You've spoken of Freya, even said she made that translation bracelet for you, and you've spoken of survivors, multiple, coming to you to act as an arbitrator for disputes – there's only one conclusion that fits this, your Ragnarök is not OUR Ragnarök."

Kratos felt as if he was in a fog. His Ragnarök was not theirs? "Explain."

"For the longest time, there's been this concept of something called a multiverse, or parallel dimensions. An infinite number of worlds all exist side by side, all subtly different from each other. The differences between them can be something minor, such as apples being colored blue, instead of red, or something major, like humans not being the dominant species, entire nations having been destroyed in natural disasters, or, say, Ragnarök playing out in a different fashion." The fog was beginning to lift. "The thing is this concept isn't a theory. Fujimaru, myself, and most of those in Chaldea are mages, we belong to an organization called the Clock Tower. One of the most powerful members of our order is a man named Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the Wizard Marshall of the Clock Tower, alternately called the Kaleidoscope. He alone can use the Second Magic, which is the ability to observe, and interact with parallel worlds – so we know they exist, and why I was cursing his name a moment ago. If he's involved with this, things are much, MUCH worse than I ever believed they could be." She again found his gaze and gone was the brittle mask of arrogance and confidence she had been wearing. Now, she just looked so tired, the bags under her eyes, the lines of stress on her face much, much more evident. "I don't suppose you met a bearded old man before you found yourself here?"

Kratos' mind whirled, as he took the information in. If what she was saying was true, should he even find one of the Gateways to Yggdrasil, there was no guarantee that his Seed would work – or that it would lead him home. Slowly, he shook his head. "No, I did not meet this Kaleidoscope of yours. I was on the branches of the World Tree when I was attacked. During the battle, I was thrown from the branches into the void by my enemies. One of them was clinging to me as I was thrown; and fell with me. While we flew through the air, his Yggdrasil Seed exploded, and I was flung away from him, and lost consciousness. When I awoke, I was here."

"Yggdrasil Seed? Can't say I've heard that term before," interjected Caster. "At least, not in the exploding way."

Kratos reached into his pouch and pulled the item in question out, holding it up. "It was the means by which we were able to travel to different realms during Ragnarök – Odin had sealed the previous means for many winters, and we have not yet been able to break the enchantments on the Temple as of yet." He rotated the object in his hand. "Mine was damaged – either in the fight, or the fall, I do not know." He made a sound of deep frustration. "And now you tell me this world is not even my own, that my Seed may not even be able to get me back to my home, should it even work." Kratos felt trapped and did not like it.

Atreus. Would he ever see his son again?

"Maybe….we could help you?"

The violet-haired girl's words were a thrown rope to Kratos, who was drowning in his spiraling thoughts. "How?" he asked, his voice soft.

Mash glanced at the Director, who gazed back, the two sharing some silent communication of some sort, before the Director spoke. "You heard why the three of us are here – something in this city distorted history, and caused Humanity's extinction, and that we were planning an operation to stop it. It wasn't supposed to be just myself, Mash, and Fujimaru over there." She sighed. "There was sabotage – someone set off an explosion that killed most of our Master candidates, and most of the support staff at Chaldea. The Doctor is holding down the fort there by virtue of being the highest-ranking survivor – Fujimaru was recruited mere days ago merely to fill out a slot. In ideal conditions she'd have never even seen deployment, much less myself – both of us aren't supposed to be here."

Treachery. A familiar enough coin, to be sure, but…. "You say your goal was to prevent humanity itself from being completely wiped out. Who then would seek to hinder that goal?"

Olga shrugged. "We don't know - we barely know anything. Best guess is that whoever, or whatever caused this altered history got a traitor – or traitors – into Chaldea, or they somehow got an infiltrator past our security. It's only by what appears to be sheer bloody luck that we managed to get anyone at all into the past, and we're already down one person. And moreover, if it wasn't for you, all three of us would be dead right now." She locked eyes with Kratos, and continued, her words blunt, and frank. "But you can fight – you singlehandedly killed a Servant, and that's something we could desperately use right now. So, this is what I'm proposing, you help us fix this Singularity, and I'll do everything in my power to get you back to your home. If it comes to it, my family has enough standing in the Clock Tower to get you an audience with the Wizard Marshall – it would cost me every single favor we're owed, but compared to humanity's continued existence, those would be a small price to pay."

She pushed herself to her feet, and marched over to the Spartan, extending her hand. "I swear on my family's name, help us save the world, and I will get you back to your world, or I will die trying."

More fighting – that is what she was offering him. Fight and kill for me, and I will reward you, a cynical part of himself jeered, before he stuffed that back into the deep recesses of his mind. True, her words could be lies – he knew nothing beyond what they had told him as to this conflict he found himself in the middle of – but the spirit, this 'Servant' he had killed. The foulness that had seemed to emanate from the thing's very being made him feel that this fight was not the muddled mess that was the forever war over the light of Alfheim. Things well might be black and white, for once.

And in the end, what choice did he have? If they could get him back to his son, his world, no choice at all.

Kratos reached out and grasped her wrist firmly. "I accept." He tightened his grip fractionally, taking care to not use too much strength – this was meant to be a warning, not to do harm, and pulled the smaller woman a step closer. "Should I find you have spoken falsely to me, you will not like the outcome – so I hope for both of our sakes you have been true with me." His warning delivered, he released her from his grasp, allowing her to snatch her arm back to her body,

Gingerly, she rubbed where his fingers had dug into her flesh, but the expected outburst didn't come. Instead, her words, when they came, were measured, despite the sparks of temper he could see flaring in her eyes. "Cautious enough to be a mage, it seems. Good to know there seems to be a brain behind all that muscle." She took her seat again, shaking out her arm before allowing it to settle in her lap. "Now that we've an accord, Caster, what can you tell us about what happened here?"

"All this, the city in flames, the corrupted Servants, all the death and destruction, Saber's fault. I wasn't around when it happened, but something got to her early on in the War and corrupted her. And not like that Assassin the big fellow put down, that bunch is just what's left of them after she killed them and brought them back, Servants for a Servant, if you like." He leaned back against the wall, staring off into the distance. "Whatever happened to her, when it happened, things went bad really damn quick. There's a crater in the west half of the town where she wiped out at least three of the War's Masters, and their Servants in one blow, and carved a trench into the city that extends all the way out to the sea."

Kratos saw the blood drain from both the girl's faces at this. Again, he felt there was context, information he was missing. The Caster continued. "She brought the Servants back quick, corrupted like the one you saw earlier, then set about hunting down the remaining Masters and Servants, and killing every single person they laid their eyes on in the meantime."

"You speak of Masters and Servants," interrupted Kratos. "Yet you put more weight upon these words than I have heard for them in the past. If I am to aid you, I must know what I am to fight. Explain."

"A Servant is a Heroic Spirit – a person who made a powerful mark on history and ascended to the Throne of Heroes – if you think of it as sort of like Valhalla, to use an example you should be familiar with, you won't be far off. The city we're in was the site of a magical ritual called the Holy Grail War – in essence, 7 mages summon seven Servants, and fight each other. The last one standing wins the Grail – which is a powerful artifact, powerful enough to grant the wishes of the Master and Servant who claim it." The Director's voice had taken on the cadence of rote, clearly this was far from her first time explaining this. "There's a number of complexities to the whole thing, but to keep it simple, the Master provides the Servant with the necessary mana to remain manifested and commands the Servant in battle. If you kill the Master, the Servant will eventually run of out mana and return to the Throne."

Something twisted in Kratos' gut. "So I am certain…are Servants slaves?"

"Whoa, big guy, it's not like that," Cu grimaced. "Well, not completely. Servants choose to answer a Master's call and make a contract with them. We usually answer the call because we have a wish we want granted by the Grail – you won't find many of us at the Throne who don't have a regret or two from our lives that we want to fix, or some unfinished business left behind." He shrugged, grinning. "Not me, though. I came for the fights – I'd be the laughingstock of the all the other Irish Servants if I let a scrap like this pass me by, not to mention what my teacher would do to me." The Caster rolled his shoulders, staring at the ceiling. "Sometimes we get bad Masters – I originally contracted with a fine Irish lass for this War, she had just enough time to realize who she'd summoned before the War's moderator cut off her arm, stole her Command Seals, and by doing that, stole me. HE was a bastard, no question, but he's not the rule, either. Mages are arrogant sorts, and more than a few of them see Servants as little more than tools, but there's good ones there, too. The Tohsaka Master seemed like she had a good rapport with her Servant, as did that boy she was working with. Even the Einzbern Master seemed to care about her Berserker, and Berserkers are little more than feral animals on a leash most of the time."

"And Chaldea's summoning system works a bit different than the one used for the Grail War," interjected Olga Marie. "Our Masters simply put out a call to the Throne, and who answers, answers. We can't even use a catalyst to try to summon a certain Servant, it's really the luck of the draw as to who hears you, and who chooses to respond."

"Gudako never treated me as a slave, Mr. Kratos," Mash's voice was soft, but firm. "I haven't known her long, but I don't believe she would ever do that to me."

Kratos grunted. "Very well. In my life I have had the experience of having a yoke about my neck, of having my freedom stripped from me. It is not something I would wish upon another." Another grunt. "I….apologize for my suspicions."

Cu shook his head. "No, it's a reasonable enough concern to have. The jackass who stole me from the girl who should have been my Master was the worst. Put me under a Command Seal that forbade me from going all out, and then forced me to merely test the other Servants and Masters, and to just be a scout. I sign up for some good fights, and the bastard wouldn't even let me get those." He pointed at the girl on the cot. "And to answer the question I know you're going to ask, look at the back of her right hand."

Carefully, Kratos knelt down, turning the girls arm over. There, on the back of her right hand, right where the Caster said, was a bright red tattoo. "Those are the Command Seals every Master gets – three of them. They're both the Contract between a Master and a Servant, and three, well, commands a Master can give their Servant. A Master can burn one of them to give an order to a Servant that the Servant can't disobey – I told you how the guy who stole me ordered me to not go all out while he had me scouting the other Servants, well, that's how. But you can also use them to give your Servant a massive temporary boost, heal their injuries, call them immediately to your side, things like that. Once they're gone, the contract between Master and Servant is severed – which is why most Masters always try to keep one Seal intact. Servants, even well-treated ones, have turned on their Masters before, and as long as you have one Seal remaining, you can make your Servant kill themselves if they try to stab you in the back."

"About that….," began Olga Marie. "How is it you're still around, Caster? From the way you're speaking, the Moderator of this war is dead, so you should have run out of mana by now, but you've said you've been playing cat and mouse with the corrupted Servants for a while now."

"That would be because of my bastard of a former Master. As the Moderator of the war, he had all the unused Command Seals from the previous Wars – and since he was the last Master to die in this one, he also got all the leftover Command Seals from this war." Cu's fingers began to tap a beat on his staff. "I think he knew whatever scheme he had for this War went up in flames from the moment Saber carved a trench into the city. He kept his head down, but Saber came for him specifically, almost like she knew him or something – I don't even think she knew he was a Master when she did. When she finally found him, he just smiled that weird smile of his, and used every single Command Seal he had to give me one order. 'Survive'. Bastard didn't do it out of any altruism or anything, either, or fondness for me. It was just pure spite at Saber." The blue-haired man sighed. "I can at least respect that somewhat, even if I still hate him. But I've been running off the power of those seals ever since; and sleeping and eating to regain what power I can – one of the first things I did after he was killed was to hit up every store I could in the area and make as many of these hidey-holes as possible. Even without that Command, I knew I'd have to do this fight hit and run. Saber had an army of Servants, and if I was going to win this, or hold out until I could find some allies, I'd have to fight this War careful, and smart." He grimaced. "Problem is, I'm almost out of gas. I'm going to need a new Master if you want me to stick around for longer than another few hours." He turned his eyes to Olga Marie and grinned a knowing grin. "So, wanna partner up, girlie?"

From her rapid flush, the Director had not missed the man's double meaning. It took her a moment before she could get words past her sputtering. "You insufferable Irish…." She made a noise of deep frustration, and visibly got herself under control. "Unfortunately for you, that's not possible. I don't have any Master capability, it's why I wouldn't have been in the field, if this operation had gone according to plan. We've got only the one Master, and she's in no condition to agree to a Contract right now. Unless…."

Four pairs of eyes turned to Kratos.

"I do not wish for that kind of power over another," he began, barely able to hide the unease in his voice. "I was a general once, and then again, very recently, but this….this is more than simply commanding soldiers in battle."

"I once read that those who want power least are just the sort of people who should have it," said Mash, a glimmer of respect in her eyes. The girl's naïve faith in Kratos, who she had only known a few hours – it was similar to his son, in a way. The difference was, she had no idea of the blood that still clung to him. "You said you'd had your freedom taken away from you before…..I don't think you'd mistreat someone if you had that kind of power over them."

"And, it could just be a temporary contract, if you'd prefer," said Cu. "Just long enough to take out Saber and set things to right here. And you couldn't be worse than my last Master, either."

These people, they made light of what they were asking him, but still…..he had led men in battle mere months ago, had fought a God and had given him every chance to walk from the fight, only slaying Heimdall, in the end, when the man had spit on every chance Kratos had given him.

Had threatened his son.

Kratos had had every chance to become a monster again over the course of Ragnarök, but he hadn't. He had even found a better way in the heat of battle, when he had seen Odin using innocent Midgardians as shields in front of the walls of Asgard. Maybe here, in this strange place, even without his son, without his friends, he could carry this burden without becoming the Ghost of Sparta again.

He sighed. "Very well. But I would have an ally, not a Servant, if you would see this 'Saber' defeated'."

Cu's grin threatened to split his face in two. "Couldn't ask for better, my temporary Master!" He moved to stand in front of Kratos, extending his hand.

Kratos hid a wince. "Do NOT call me that," his request was made through gritted teeth, as his temper howled to the forefront, the Spartan keeping a hold on it through the narrowest of margins. He mollified his tone, once he had control of himself again. "Just Kratos will do." He likewise held out his hand.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Cu actually sounded contrite. "Should have known better, and if you couldn't tell, sometimes my mouth gets the better of me." Mouth twisted into something hallway between a grin and a frown, he grasped Kratos' wrist. "Let's raise some hell together, Kratos."

A foreign energy burned through Kratos, as though a poison was flowing through his veins, though a painless one. The sensations centered on the back of his right hand, and as Cu released his hand, Kratos turned his hand about to see a red tattoo burn itself into existence on his skin.

Three lines. A curved almost-circle, and two smaller horizontal lines at the two ends of it.

Of course. Truly, he should have expected nothing else but that mark – his mark.

He settled himself back against the wall, as Cu returned to his original position. "What then can you tell us of our enemies? You said this Saber had several of these Servants under her command."

"And more to the point, have you figured out who any of them are?" asked the Director. "True Names, Noble Phantasms, any information you can give us we can at least run through Chaldea's database."

Kratos had only just furrowed his brow, but Olga Marie noticed, and made to explain. "I'll try to make this the last time I lecture at you for the day, or night, or whatever time of day it is in this hellscape of a city. You heard Cu Chulainn there refer to himself as a 'Caster', yes? Servants are usually referred to by their Class, because knowing who they are gives away their strengths and weaknesses. You said you'd spent time in Greece, correct?" At his nod, she continued. "Then if you knew an enemy Servant was Achilles, you'd know exactly what his weak point was."

"His heel, of course." Kratos had, after all, been at Troy, had seen Achilles' death firsthand.

"Right. So that's why Masters and Servants hide behind their class names – Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Assassin, Caster, and Berserker. It hides their weaknesses and lets them keep their trump cards close to their chests. Usually, that's a Servant's Noble Phantasm. The quick and dirty explanation of that is a Noble Phantasm is the crystallization of a Servant's legend – most of the time, it's an ultimate attack of some variety." She indicated the man leaning against the wall across the room. "Cu Chulainn, for instance, if he was summoned as a Lancer would have his spear, Gae Bolg, as his Noble Phantasm, since that weapon is so strongly associated with his legend. And they're also usually a dead giveaway as to a Servant's true identity, so they aren't unleashed casually."

Cu rolled his eyes. "Sheesh, you just HAVE to remind me of all the things I'm missing from being summoned as a Caster, don't you?"

The Director ignored him. "There's probably about a dozen or more things I'm leaving out about Servants, but none of them are important at this point. The class names are fairly self-explanatory, and there are some Extra classes beyond those seven, but they're rare and we shouldn't have to deal with any of them. If we do run into them, I'll give you the details then, but I think we can spend our time more effectively now hearing what Caster has to say about the remaining Servants in this War."

Kratos made a general noise of agreement, which Cu took as a signal to begin. "Well, you took out Assassin, and again, thank you for that. Slippery bastard had been giving me the slip for far too long. Lancer and Rider are out of the game too, that's my doing. Managed to ambush Lancer in the early days when things were a lot more chaotic than they are now. It gave me enough of a smokescreen to take him out before the rest of Saber's pets realized what I was up to. Rider wasn't as easy, she was almost as fast as me when I'm a Lancer, but by then I'd been able to set up some kill zones where I'd laid down enough runes to seriously injure any Servant that was caught in the radius." He grinned, all teeth. "Managed to get her dead center when I set them off. Wasn't enough left of her to feed the birds after that."

He rolled his neck, continuing with his tale. "You heard Berserker thundering around up there. I don't think Saber can really control him much, if at all. He largely kept to himself until our new friend showed up. With any luck, he'll get bored in a couple of hours and wander back to the ruins of that castle in the forest. Thankfully, if we do end up having to fight him, the Einzbern girl wasn't shy about telling anyone who would listen who he is. That's Heracles."

There were times, few and far between, when Kratos knew his pale complexion – despite its cause – was an asset. This was one of those times, as he knew his body would have reacted to the name, even if his face had not.

Heracles – his half-brother. Or at least, this world's version of his half-brother. And, from what was said, reduced to little more than a mad dog in the thrall of another – even if she did not seem to hold his leash tight.

Part of Kratos wanted to storm out there, right now, and free his not-brother from the chains that were binding him, even if that meant killing him – and it likely did, if he was as far gone as Caster's words made it sound. The other part of him hoped not to have to kill his brother again. Not that either of them had made much effort in avoiding the conflict. Heracles, egged on by Hera, her willing attack dog. Kratos, unwilling to have anything stand in the way of his revenge. Both of them, ruined by Zeus' manipulations.

Caster, heedless of Kratos' inner turmoil, continued. "Saber herself is holed up in a cave deep in the mountain, right on top of one of the major leylines, guarding the Grail itself. Either she doesn't want to leave the Grail unattended, or she's confident enough that she doesn't care if she loses her pawns – and she's certainly got reason to be confident." He grimaced. "Here's another favor from my bastard of a former master, Saber's King Arthur herself, he knew it from the moment I described her after that boy summoned her. Didn't tell me how he knew it, the man really got off on knowing things other people didn't, but he sounded absolutely certain of the fact."

"King Arthur?" whispered Mash. "But I thought….."

"She was a he?" Cu shrugged. "Get used to it, girlie. History as it's written sometimes only has a passing resemblance to what actually happened." He licked his lips thoughtfully. "I only fought her the once, right after she was summoned, and she was fast, strong, and skilled – everything the Saber class is supposed to be. She also used to hide her sword in a sheath of wind, but the one time I saw her after she was corrupted, she wasn't bothering with that anymore, so you won't have to guess at its length like I was. Otherwise, well, I told you about how she carved a trench from the back half of the city to the sea? If that isn't her Noble Phantasm, then I'll eat my staff."

He held up a finger. "But! In order to get to her, we're going to have to go through Archer. Man's been perched on the stairs to the temple that was built above the leyline she's squatting on and is pretty much her last line of defense." Cu's face twisted in a sneer. "No idea who the guy is – despite being an Archer, he mostly fights with two short swords, though he's capable of busting out a bow when he needs to. And that's not the end of his tricks, he's somehow able to make and fire copies of swords – both normal ones, and more famous ones. Jerk's fired my Uncle Fergus' Caladbolg at me no less than three times, as well as at least a dozen other swords I didn't have to time to recognize, but they felt like they were a cut above the rest of the trash he was flinging at me." A derisive sniff. "He can even trigger them to explode on contact. If I wasn't so damn good at dodging, he'd have gotten me the first time he played that card. I really, really HATE that guy."

"So then, what do you recommend?" asked Kratos.

"For now? We sit and rest, maybe the three of you get some sleep." He pointed upwards. "Berserker is still stomping around up there, and we're stuck here until he loses interest. As for Archer? We're going to have to take him head on. I could have beaten him the first time we fought if Kirei hadn't ordered me not to go all out, and that's me as a damn Caster! With the three of us, we'll tear him to shreds, so long as we can get to him." From the man's grin, it seemed he was very much looking forward to that. "As for Saber, we're just going to be making it up as we go along."

From the looks on everyone's faces, no one was particularly happy with that idea. "I know, I know, not ideal, but it's the best we've got with what we know."

"What about senpai…..Gudako?" asked Mash. "Can we leave her here?"

Cu pondered the question for a moment. "She should be safe enough here – the field's strong enough to keep the skeletons and other chaff out. The only real danger would be if Berserker stumbled over the boundary – it's not powerful enough to keep a Servant out, just to hide anything inside of it from their senses. It would also depend on you lot, how close do you have to be in order to do whatever you do to return to your time?"

Olga Marie frowned. "Normally, it wouldn't be an issue. Given this was an emergency Rayshift, and how badly everything at Chaldea is damaged…..," She gave a frustrated sigh. "We're going to have to bring her with us, we can't risk having something go wrong and leaving her, or us behind, or worse, Chaldea not being able to verify one or more of our existences because we're too spread out."

"That will complicate things," muttered Kratos. "If this Saber is as powerful as you say she is, she will be too great a threat for us to divide our attention….or our forces."

For a long moment, the room was quiet, as each within it digested the words. Cu was the first to break the silence. "Let me think on it for a bit – I can rack my brains for what the old hag taught me, see if I can come up with something while the rest of you sleep. Freebie for you, Kratos, Servants don't need to eat or sleep so long as they have a good supply of mana from their contract, and you're not disappointing in that regard,"

There was something in Caster's grin that Kratos did not like. Again, he felt that odd sense of familiarity towards the man.

"So, while the three of you get some rest, I'll keep watch, and see if I can't come up with something to at least hide our two vulnerable ladies." He shrugged. "Worst case, I can give you some runes that'll make you less likely to be noticed, but that's unlikely to stand up to hard scrutiny, and who knows how a simple spell like that will be affected by her Magic Resistance. Saber Class Servants always have that in spades, and she was no exception, at least before she was corrupted."

There was little more discussion after that. Much as she might have wanted to continue planning for the next day, the Director was visibly exhausted, and soon was curled up on a bed of chairs, sleeping deeply. Mash soon followed her, choosing to curl up on the ground next to Gudako's cot, Cu having loaned his cloak to the girl as a makeshift pillow.

Kratos himself took longer to find sleep, for all that he was tired. For a time, he watched the girls sleep, finding a measure of calm in their steady breathing, his mind clearing of thoughts – and it was still spinning from everything that had happened in the past day. But any soldier worth their salt learned to take their sleep where they could find it, and eventually, he too drifted off.

AUTHORS NOTE:
Exposition chapter. Unavoidable, but I wanted to let the personalities develop and bounce off each other.