A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 26

It was still dusk when they set out - the Emperor wanted an early start hidden by the predawn darkness, in case, no, because she expected the gates of Rome were watched. By moving before a camp would begin breaking for the morning, she hoped to steal a march on her uncle's forces.

It had some merit to it - Fujimaru had been clear that Homunculi DID need sleep like normal humans, though it varied by maker and formula how much they required.

"And I can only guess for this batch - rummaging around in one's chest cavity isn't going to tell me that, even if I was a Master at it, and I'm not - I wouldn't even qualify for my Merit Badge, despite how many summers I spent elbows deep in one at the Musik Family Estate." She shrugged. "A couple weeks a year, for every other year is no substitute for continual, concentrated study like Gordy had. HE could probably sniff their blood and give you a detailed outline of their strengths, weaknesses, and ways to improve the process."

She smiled fondly. "Then he'd turn red, puff up like an inflated balloon, and demand to know who was behind this abomination, and start warming up his 'Gof Punch' for when he met them. Good old Gordy."

So it was that the sun was only just beginning to break out over the horizon when Rome's sole remaining Legion marched out from the gates.

Kratos was glad to put his back to it, and the gods worshiped there.

"It will be a half-day's march to the site of our battle," Nero was saying, again mounted on her chariot, with Fujimaru riding by her side - publicly as a way of honoring the newest auxiliary force in Rome's armies, but in truth to keep the girl's healing spell, and Chiron, close at hand in case her injuries flared up while on the campaign trail. "I have already dispatched scouting parties ahead of our march to try to find their spoor. With luck, we will be upon them before they have gone too far from wherever they made camp last evening."

"IF they made camp," said Fujimaru, her side-ponytail being whipped about by the wind as the chariot's wheels ground up the dirt. "Homunculi might need sleep eventually, but if you're enough of a sadist, you can push them until they drop. There's always the possibility they marched on through the night, and are just making camp now - or are still marching."

"But there were humans there to give the soldiers orders - possibly only a handful, but still, there had to be some. If, as we have theorized, Caligula is a Berserker, he would not be able to fulfill that role," said Chiron. "So they would have to take that into account. Even if they are mounted, as you are, Master, their horses would need rest at some point."

"Unless of course the whole point is to run the army into the ground," said Cu, easily jogging along with the chariot. "If they know we're here, they might be looking to salvage what they can out of this before we fall on them like a hammer squashing a grape. They march the dolls to death, and what do they care, they can always grow more. The actual men - and the Servant, if they give two shits about him, are much more valuable. And it would be much easier to fit a couple of officers and a Berserker on a getaway ship than it would be to transport an entire army."

"There is also the north," Kratos' voice rumbled over the din of marching feet and rattling wheels. "An army appearing in the rear of your forces there could break the stalemate - if your forces are as sorely pressed as you say, their mere appearance could cause the lines to falter."

Nero sighed. "And that is not even accounting for what harm they could do if they scattered their forces into smaller centuries and simply set out to cause as much damage as they could in the countryside." Her grip on the chariot's edge grew white-knuckled. "We would not have the forces, much less the TIME to chase down and put out so many small fires, not while we are needed elsewhere."

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And, with each farm burned, each small settlement butchered, they stir up unrest - which already bubbles beneath my Empire's surface. Rome is dry kindling, and they are the torch. All they need is one spark to catch and…"

"We will find them, your Majesty," said Chiron. "The plan you have drawn up is adequate for your needs - and for a situation with so many possibilities for how your enemy may act. Your scouts should be close to reaching the battlefield now - such a large force will leave signs of their passing. Signs that we can follow."

"Umu. If the gods are favorable."

It seemed the gods were inclined to bless their cause - or at least that was what Nero believed - for her scouts easily found signs of the army's passing. Kratos, however, refused to give any credit to the residents of Olympus in this world. The path was obvious enough that even Atreus, before their journey to lay Faye's ashes to rest, could have followed this trail.

And following it they were - Nero was driving her men hard, eager to be done with this distraction, as she termed it, and to move onto the war proper.

"Are there any settlements of note to the west, your Majesty?" asked Chiron.

"None!" She was seated, conserving her strength for when they came upon their enemies. "Some of my Senators may have manses or villas on the coast, but they lie abandoned - all have fled for the safety of Rome's walls!"

Cu grinned. "Then I was right, they are looking to bug out. Only reason they'd be running for the sea. No sign of a camp yet, either, which means they either marched through the night, or just slept where they stopped." He shrugged. "Callous bastards probably don't think homunculi need things like tents or bedrolls."

Fujimaru cracked her knuckles. "They've got a pretty big lead, then. Their officers could be long gone by now, and Caligula with them."

"Avoiding battle may be more advantageous," said Kratos. Cu shot him an incredulous look, and he grunted. "We face the disadvantage of numbers, and our enemy can replenish their losses more easily. Wiping out this force means little, if it is merely the enemy's tools that we slay." It was akin to Ragnarök, in a way. He could kill Einherjar until he could no longer lift his arms, but they would merely be sent back to Valhalla, ready to fight again. The only way to stop them was to stop Odin.

And while a Servant was the equal of many, many men - and the same could be said for Kratos, numbers great enough could fell any warrior. Skill, power, training, they all mattered. But quantity could close that gap - even Leonidas and his men had, in the end, been overcome by a horde of lesser soldiers.

Cu's head perked up. "Hey, we've got a rider incoming!" He squinted. "Colors look right for it to be one of your scouts!"

The rider drew up, Chiron tracking his every movement. While his bow was not visible, Kratos knew from experience the Servant could have it materialized and fired in the blink of an eye. Truly, those in the Archer Class were among the finest with a bow in Human History.

Their caution, in this instance, was to be for naught, the scout was no imposter - Nero clearly recognized him as he drew near, and leapt from her seat to greet him.. "Speculatore Segovax! What news?"

The man drew his horse up, stopping at a respectable distance, and dipped his head in a bow. "Emperor Nero. We have them."

Nero's hands gripped the edge of her chariot so hard her knuckles went white. "And their officers, are they still present?" She frowned. "And…what of the imposter calling himself my uncle?"

"And are there ships?" Several heads turned to regard Cu, who shrugged. "If they're already taking on boarders, then there's no way we'll make it in time to stop them. But if they're merely on the horizon, then we've got a chance. Lets us know what kind of timetable we're working with here."

The scout looked to Nero, who nodded. "We saw no boats, auxiliary. Not on the shore, nor on the horizon. Nor any signs that any had been there. And while we did not draw close, as we wished to avoid being spotted, we believe that the officers of the force remain." He paused. "As well as a giant fitting the description of the man who claimed to be your uncle, Emperor."

"Curious," Chiron brought his hand up to his lips. "That they fled to the shore like this seems to indicate this was their planned extraction point. But the lack of the ships…it does not make sense."

"Yeah, you don't run for the shore like that unless you're expecting a boat to be waiting on you. Dad never really saw any action, but he knew some SEALS, and they had stories about operations that went bad, and only making it out alive because their ride out was on time, when and where it was supposed to be." Fujimaru's fingers tapped on the edge of the chariot. "Think this could be a trap?"

Kratos thought, then shook his head. "No. I do not think so. From what we have been told, the United Roman Empire has conducted their campaigns with precision - if brutally. If they fled to the coast in this manner, then they expected ships to be waiting there." He frowned. "There is something we do not see here."

Nero seized the hilt of her strange sword and drew it from where it rested in a special sheath, bolted to the side of her chariot, and raised it above her head. "Then we shall ask them ourselves, when we have run their men into the ground!" The soldiers around her took up a booming cheer, as the army resumed its march.

After a few moments, she beckoned the Chaldeans near. "I do not know your strengths in detail enough to properly deploy you, beyond that you are many times stronger and faster than my men, so I will leave you to your own devices. I only ask, can you acquire a living officer that we may put to the question?"

Cu felt four pairs of eyes shift to him, and groaned. "HAS to be me, doesn't it? Archer has to stay back and protect the lass, and Mash is only slightly less stealthy than Kratos, by virtue of him being about as unnoticable as an Ulster pub crawl. And we'd be wasting both of them by having them try to slip behind enemy lines, huh?"

He shrugged. "Fine, I can do that. I'll even throw in trying to defuse any spells that might have been put on them to make their heads go pop in case they get snatched, free of charge."

He clapped Kratos on the back. "I'll see you on the other side of the battle, Kratos. Don't have too much fun without me." Then he was off like a shot, still grumbling about how he'd miss most of the fight.

"I have one more favor to ask," Nero met Kratos' eyes. "If possible, I must be the one to strike the final blow against Caligula. Even if it is just me taking his head after the battle is done, my men must see me dealing with this so-called Emperor of the United Roman Empire in a decisive fashion." She sighed. "I know, in a battle, one cannot make any solid promises. But…if the opportunity presents itself, I would request this of you."

Chiron looked to Kratos. "As our field commander, Kratos, the decision lies with you - as would the burden of accomplishing this. I will remain behind the lines of battle, where I can do the most good - and to protect my Master, who should not be close to melee under any circumstances. Thus, the responsibility of fulfilling the Emperor's request would fall to you - and possibly to Mash, if my Master could spare her sworn shield."

Kratos growled. More complications, exactly what one did not need on the battlefield. But, as much as he had little desire to become entangled in the political game that was swirling around the Emperor, they had a vested interest in keeping her in power. And they were all in agreement - Rome could not weather an internal revolt and remain standing.

So they had to prop up Nero to the best of their ability.

He sighed, feeling a deep loathing for Rome, or, more correctly, the complicated situation that they found themselves in, seeping into his bones. "I will do what I can. But battle is unpredictable, and Berserkers more so. I promise nothing."

"If it is not to be, it is not to be. I will merely pray that Fortuna favors you this day!" Nero nodded once to him, then spurred her chariot to the front of the lines, Chiron following by their side.

Mash raised her hand. "Mr. Kratos? Should I accompany you, or…?"

"No," he said. "Guard Fujimaru, and the Emperor. Nero will be a target. As will Fujimaru should she remain close." He fixed her with a look. "And Mash. You must not hesitate, as you did in the previous battle."

She flushed, and bowed her head, hiding behind her bangs. "I know. I just…animals, monsters, Servants, I was prepared to have to kill them. Not…not people. I'm sorry." She bit her lip. "I'll do better."

Carefully, Kratos placed his hand on her shoulder. "Mercy does not make you weak, Mash Kyrielight. But as with anything, you must choose carefully when to apply it." He gripped her shoulder. "But do not let war make a monster of you, for it will try to."

"Yes sir!" Then she too was off, running to stand by Fujimaru's side.

It was maybe an hour or more later that Kratos began to smell the sea.

It brought back memories. Many memories. How long had it been, since he had heard the crash of the waves, or smelled the scent of salt-water in the air?

Too long. His memories of his time wandering the world were so muddled he did not even recall how he had come to Midgard - and his years in the time since had been spent inland.

It was a short time later that the horizon gave way to an endless expanse of blue. And clustered around the shore was the force they had been chasing.

Kratos scoffed. They had not even made up battle lines - their troops were scattered across the beach in no form of order. Clearly, they had not even anticipated the need for such, as their leaders had expected to be aboard a ship, far from shore by now.

And those leaders were one of the two immediate points of interest he noticed. Clustered together, almost close enough to the waves to feel their spray, they had likely been discussing something - the lack of the promised ships, he would bet - up until they spotted the approaching Roman army. Now they were barking out panicked orders, trying to reform the lines and get their soldiers in something approximating order.

Far too late. Were they Spartan Generals, they would be rushing to the front, seeking a glorious death in battle, for they would face a much less honorable end should they return to Sparta after such a blunder in the field. But these were Romans, or one of their vassals, and as such, they were seeking to salvage the situation, and save their own skins.

Looming in front of them was the other point of interest. Tall - smaller than Kratos, but not by a considerable margin, and bulky. Dressed in armor of gold and black, with a tattered red cape flowing from his shoulders. Everyone, human or homunculi, were keeping a considerable distance from him, and it was not hard to guess why. Even at this distance, Kratos could FEEL it. The same aura of violence and insanity that had surrounded this world's version of his half-brother, and the Black Knight of Orleans. Even Kiyohime and Vlad had possessed it, though it had been muted in their cases, as they had, by whatever quirk of the Throne, retained a portion of their minds.

Romani had been right. This was a Berserker.

At the fevered shouts from the officers, the Servant looked up, eyes flickering over the line of advancing soldiers. Until those eyes spotted the golden chariot in the center of the formation.

And he tossed his head back and howled at the sky. "UUUUOOOOHHHHHH! NERRRRROOOOO!" Suddenly, he was moving, charging forward, heedless of anything in his path. Homunculus soldiers were tossed aside as he ran straight for the Emperor.

An arrow screamed from the Roman lines. Without stopping his charge, Caligula snatched two soldiers up, one with each massive hand, and whipped them in front of himself. The arrow bored through the first soldier, but had been slowed enough that the Berserker was able to throw the still bodies aside before the arrow could penetrate his own flesh. He was close, now, the distance between himself and Nero rapidly shrinking.

Kratos moved. Head lowered, he charged, legs propelling him forward. Caligula leapt forward, an arrow flying through the space where his body had been, his hand reaching out, seeking his niece.

Kratos arrived mere seconds before he would have grasped her head. He crashed into the Servant, ramming into Caligula's side and sending them both tumbling, tangled together, far from the battle lines.

As they landed, Kratos heard, almost distantly, as the lines of the two armies met.

He drew his knees up and kicked the Servant off him, rising to his feet, then ducking, as a massive fist cut through the air just above his head.

"Nero…..MY NERO!" The man's eyes were black pits, within which rested maddened, glowing pupils that stared at Kratos with unbridled hate. He lunged forward, seeking to seize Kratos by the arms, but Kratos rolled, coming up behind the Servant, his axe in hand.

For a moment, he thought Caligula would try to break free, to try to charge once more for the Emperor, but the man sniffed, then growled low, and turned to fully face Kratos.

Then charged.

Kratos chopped down with his axe, seeking to take the one of the Servant's arms, but the man slid inward, attempting to absorb the blow with his pauldrons. Against a lesser foe, the armor may have held - indeed, it still managed to rob Kratos' attack of some of its force. But not enough, as metal crumpled, and the blade of the Leviathan Axe dug into Caligula's shoulder.

Caligula seemed not to care. He seized Kratos by the waist and snapped his head into the Spartan's, both men grunting in pain as their skulls collided. His fingers pressed in, attempting to bore into Kratos' flesh, lifting him from the ground. Kratos' kicked out, aiming for the Servant's knee, and connected, but his blow had its force partially stolen from his lack of footing. Still, he felt, rather than heard bones crack.

Roaring, Caligula hurled Kratos across the battlefield, rocks and driftwood battering against the Spartan's back as he hit the ground and rolled, coming back to his feet in a crouch.

Again, the madman was charging - this Berserker seemed to have retained little of whatever martial skill he had possessed in life - unlike the Black Knight, or Heracles. Kratos stepped back, watching as the Servant swung down, his fist missing Kratos and crashing into the ground.

Where it exploded.

Lightning flowed from the ground and jolted Kratos. He felt his muscles momentarily seize and lock up. Growling, Kratos fought against his own body, forcing it to move. His shield snapped into place, and he sluggishly blocked a wild haymaker - then felt a second impact against his shield, as an explosion rocked his shield and sent a tremor through his body. The mad Emperor's nails raked across Kratos' chest, drawing blood as they gouged at his flesh.

This man was more dangerous than he appeared.

Shaking off the last of the effects of the lightning, Kratos stepped aside from a vicious kick and slammed his forearm into the Berserker's face, causing him to stumble. Kratos ducked low, seizing the still-extended leg, and his muscles surged with power.

Roaring, he jerked Caligula from his feet, spinning around once, twice, then releasing the man to hurl him through the air.

Caligula made a crater when he landed, and was slow to get up. He'd come down on the leg Kratos had kicked earlier in the fight, and was now clearly favoring it - the pain severe enough to pierce through the inherent madness of a Berserker. Blood too was leaking from his mouth in a thin line - he'd possibly bitten his tongue when Kratos struck him last.

Caligula heaved a shaky breath into his chest, then bared reddened teeth at Kratos. Despite the pain he was in, his eyes burned, if possible, even brighter. "My Nero….you will not…keep me from her!" He tilted his head back and howled.

Night fell.

Despite it being still late afternoon, suddenly, the sun was gone, and a curtain of stars looked down across the battlefield.

"The goddess…THE GODDESS! I CAN SEE THE GODDESS!" Kratos felt the Servant's energy spike, as the moon, impossibly full, shone down on him. "FLUCTICULUS DIANA!"

Moonlight burst from his form, playing across the battlefield. Where it touched them, men quailed. He could hear Nero's voice crying out over the din, trying to restore order.

Then the moon was gone, and it was day once more.

And Kratos, suddenly, fell to his knees, as howling madness flooded his mind.

Memories, clear as the day they happened, paraded before his eyes. The day of his pact, as he slew the Barbarian King who had, moments ago, been such a threat. His years of service to Ares as he rampaged across Greece. The day he took the lives of his wife and daughter. And even his years after he destroyed Greece, where he wandered the world aimlessly, barely human. All of it returned to him in a flash.

Voices erupted in his head. Familiar voices. Ares, taunting him as they battled. Zeus, dismissing his efforts as he cast him down from Olympus. Athena, reminding him he would never be anything but a monster. And…his wife and child, screaming, begging. And there were more voices, many more. An uncounted horde of men, women, children, all his many victims over an uncounted number of years. All screamed in his mind, begging, accusing, weeping.

And from where he kept it within himself, deeply chained, the Ghost of Sparta roared free - the thing within him that Thor had demanded to see as his blood-debt.

Its cries joined those of the soldiers across the field, both friend and foe. And above it all Caligula howled through blood-stained lips, his voice the conductor leading an orchestra of insanity, as he once more charged straight at Kratos.

Kratos forced himself back to his feet, holding onto his control through sheer force of will. This was not Spartan Rage, the power he had shaped over a lifetime, until it was just another tool in his arsenal - a dangerous tool, but still one he controlled. This was his true legacy - that of a destroyer. A monster.

He felt the chill of the Leviathan Axe in his hands, and shoved his old self back, battling against the man he was with the thoughts of his wife, and the man she believed he could be - or was all along.

(We are not our failures. We are not who we were!)

Caligula was almost upon him.

He needed a moment - a second to regroup.

He raised the Leviathan Axe into the air and willed light from it, seeking to disorient the Servant - but the light did not come. He could feel the power within the axe, but the tide of madness that had been set free within him was blocking it.

He had no more time - Caligula was here.

Moving, fighting against his own body, Kratos ducked under one of the Emperor's mad swipes, but his spasming arm was unable to get his shield up in time to block a hooked body blow that sent him flying back. Pain erupted, far greater than the blow should have caused. He growled, the blow and the agony accompanying it making his barely-contained rage surge. He beat it back with every scrap of discipline left to him, holding on, but just barely. And Caligula loomed, legs tensing to rush in again, to overbear the Spartan.

The clatter of wheels made both combatants turn their heads.

Nero's chariot had separated from the army, and was rapidly crossing the ground between there and the battle Kratos was locked in.

He could not see Nero's charioteer - likely the man had been overwhelmed by the Servant's Noble Phantasm, and was tearing at himself and others, as was the fate of the greater whole of both armies - even the Homunculi had fallen victim to the bedlam that had been unleashed. Instead, Fujimaru held the reins, though the girl looked as unsteady as Kratos himself felt. Even at this distance, Kratos could see her lips moving, though what she was muttering, he could not say.

Nero stood tall (or relatively such, for her), her massive sword pointed forward. Directly at Caligula. "FACE ME, IMPOSTER!" Her voice blasted out over the battlefield, temporarily silencing the tumult of men descending into the throes of madness.

Caligula turned, an eerie smile on his face. "Nero…..my brave Nero." For the briefest of seconds, the rage and madness left his face, and he almost looked proud. Then his visage twisted into a cruel smile, and he bared his teeth, hands clenching.

Kratos knew he would not get a better opportunity.

He forced all of it to the side, the memories of his past and the regrets they brought, his pain, the man he once was that demanded to be set free to rip and tear. He seized his wife's words with both hands and hammered the insanity, the voices, his chained rage, hammered it all back with the mental fortitude of a Spartan, and sprang forward, his axe slicing through the air, every drop of his power put in the blow.

Distracted as he was, Caligula never saw it coming.

The Leviathan Axe dug into Caligula's back. Armor split like it was mere cloth, and the Servant's skin did not resist the blow any better. Bone shattered as the axe severed the spine, or whatever passed for it, of the man, and Caligula's legs spasmed as they lost any ability to hold him up.

Kratos gritted his teeth and lifted the dying man into the air, still impaled upon his axe. Caligula struggled, weakly, but he had little strength left.

And Nero was there, tears in her eyes as she brought the sword down.

The chariot thundered past, and Caligula's head bounced to the earth.

Like the slamming of a door, quiet suddenly fell inside Kratos' mind, and he was once again the master of his own thoughts.

As Caligula's body broke apart, Nero's chariot skidded to a stop, and Fujimaru tumbled from it, falling to her knees as she was violently ill.

Nero hopped from the chariot, pausing for a moment to affix Fujimaru with a worried glance, before she rushed away, back to the battlefield. "Watch her!" she yelled, as she passed Kratos. "I must attempt to restore order!"

Kratos heaved a breath into his chest, as the last traces of red cleared from his vision. Caligula, while only a threat physically due to his status as a Servant, having the ability to project one's madness in such a manner…

Kratos growled, and shook his head, throwing off any lingering remnants of the Noble Phantasm. Nero, by this point, was long gone - she likely should not be running on that leg, but this would hardly be the first time the Emperor ignored Chiron's orders about her health.

His communicator crackled to life. "Kratos, are you alright?" Romani's worried face sprang into being. "We registered a Noble Phantasm - I'm assuming that was Caligula's - being deployed. Nearly everyone's vitals went haywire for a few moments, before stabilizing. What's your status?"

"I am as well as can be expected. Fujimaru is down - uninjured, but affected. I will check on her." He glanced across the field. Nero's loud voice could be heard bellowing out orders, and the Roman lines were shakily reforming into something resembling proper order. He would have expected the officers of the United Roman Empire to be doing the same, but he could hear no voices other than Nero's calling out. As a consequence, the Homunculi were milling about - some attempting to reform lines, but others almost catatonic. Possibly this was a consequence of them being artificial, and having less mental strength to bolster themselves against such a Noble Phantasm.

He began to move to Fujimaru's side. "What of Archer and Mash?"

"They're both ok. Archer seemed to largely resist most of the effects of it, thankfully. That might have something to do with his heritage, or simply what he is, but he managed to keep the battle-lines around him together. He also took out a couple of the officers, though we couldn't tell if he killed them or just crippled them." Romani shrugged. "Based on the lack of orders coming from them, I'll also assume Caster was successful."

"And Mash?"

Romani's brow furrowed. "That's the strange thing - the Noble Phantasm didn't affect her at all. Her Spirit Origin…I don't know what else to say other than it sort of lit up, or brightened when that light hit her. But she didn't suffer any of the mental corruption she should have. It was almost like something was protecting her. Possibly by taking the brunt of the attack itself. If that's the case….well, there aren't a whole lot of possibilities for that, are there?"

Kratos grunted. If the Servant within Mash was finally beginning to take a more active role, that was at least some good news. The girl still had so many questions - ones that had only intensified with the appearance of the sword she now carried on by her side.

Maybe she could finally get some answers.

He reached Fujimaru, and knelt by the girl's side. "Fujimaru. Are you well?"

She spat, then pushed herself up, wobbling as she rose. "Let me give you a real answer in a minute. Still trying to get the needles out of my brain." She shivered. "Gods, that was horrible. It was like every mistake I'd ever made in my life came knocking, trying to get me to curl up on a ball and just…give up. Permanently." She rubbed at her temples, her movements sharp and jerky. "I don't think there's enough brain bleach in the world to get those feelings out of my head."

As was so often the case with this girl, parts of her speech were incomprehensible. Kratos chose to focus on more immediate concerns. "Can you walk? We should rejoin the battle, but I cannot leave you unguarded."

She took a step, then, when her legs did not give out on her, another one. "Yeah, I think so. One foot in front of the other, right?"

She was quiet as they made their way back to the battle - though there was little combat left by the time they reached it. Lacking their officers, and with any semblance of order destroyed by Caligula's Noble Phantasm, the Homunculi had been crushed, though not without cost. Possibly a fourth of Nero's Legion was down, either from wounds inflicted in battle, or during the tide of chaos that had seized both sides of the conflict. Nero was directing her troops against the last holdouts as they rejoined the back lines.

Chiron nodded at his Master as they drew close. "Master, while I can agree that the enemy Servant needed to be killed as quickly as possible, I would have suggested another means - one in which you did not get so close."

"Archer, if you can figure out a way to tell an Emperor 'no' I'd like to hear it." After a second, her smile fell. "Yeah, can't really keep up my usual level of banter after what that Servant did to me. She was going anyways, with or without me. At least with me along, she was able to focus completely on cutting his head off. And we agreed, we need her alive, so I made the best of the bad choices I had."

Chiron's hand dropped to her head. "Truthfully, my Master, it was surprisingly measured, considering some of the things my other students did, both under my tutelage, and on their own. But it certainly made my heart skip a beat to see you hurtling that close to a Berserker." He stared down at her. "Are you injured?"

She shook her head. "Nothing physical. Just a bad taste in my mouth from losing my lunch over that Noble Phantasm, and a major case of the willies still clinging to me from the things it did to me. How'd you get off so easy, anyways?"

Chiron glanced around them, then dropped his voice. "His Noble Phantasm called out to Diana - that would be Artemis, for Kratos and myself. From what the Throne is telling me, it does not affect those related to her. As Apollo was my foster father, and Cronus my birth father, it would seem I gained some level of resistance to it because of that, or at least, that is my theory."

"Lucky," griped Fujimaru. "Shame you couldn't have shared some of that with me. I'd rather have had my gums scraped than go through what I just went through." She glanced around. "Where's Mashie?"

"Guarding the Emperor," said Kratos, who could see Mash's distinctive head of hair, and shield standing in front of the Emperor.

"Ok, I'll go check up on my Kohai, since it looks like there's nothing left but some mopping up here." She paused. "Was Caster successful?"

Cu's thread in his mind was radiating smug satisfaction. "I believe so." He could feel the Irish Servant nearby, and the battlefield was largely calming down. With a nod to Chiron, who began to follow his Master, Kratos loped off to the shoreline.

Within a few moments, he had drawn up to a familiar blue-haired man, who was sitting atop three men wearing the colors of the United Roman Empire, each one of them bound with what appeared to be wooden rope. Cu grinned and waved, sea water dripping from his hair and arms. "Piece of freakin' cake! Hid out underwater until they spotted you guys, then snuck up behind them and grabbed the three guys who were panicking the hardest - figured they'd be the easiest to get to spill their guts, and probably the highest ones up the chain, given how badly they were losing their shit over not being able to leave their men high and dry."

Cu spat to the side, and looked as if he was resisting the urge to kick one or more of his prisoners. "You doing ok, Kratos? I was too far away to get much of that Noble Phantasm, but from what I could feel, you weren't exactly having a ball there at ground zero."

Kratos grunted. "It was unpleasant, but it is not the first time my enemies have tried to turn my own mind against me." Ares, for one. And though he would not call them his enemies, the Norns had been just as cruel in their taunting of him, and his allies, with their pasts, fears, and doubts.

"Good to hear." Cu sat back, putting his full weight onto the most ostentatiously dressed of his three captives. "It looks like this all went about as well as we could have hoped."

Night had well and truly fallen by the time the battlefield was fully pacified. There had been some discussion of attempting to make for one of the abandoned residences that were nearby, but that gained little traction. The furious pace set by the army as it had set out early that day, and then the unsettling effect of the false Emperor's sorcery - as Nero was describing the madness that had gripped the battlefield - had left the Legion in no shape to go any further. So they had made camp here on the shore.

Still, Nero had not allowed her men to be lax in setting up camp. Trenches were dug, and watches were set - the lack of nearby trees meant she had had to forgo setting up barricades, but otherwise, she was taking no chances. They had dealt with Caligula's expeditionary force, but there was no promise it was the only one.

The Chaldeans were clustered around a fire, allowed to make their camp close to the Emperor's tent in an obvious show of honor for their contributions during the battle - and, in truth, so that Chiron and Fujimaru (and her uniform's healing spell) would be close at hand.

"I still don't get it," said Fujimaru, who was toasting a chicken leg over the fire. "That Noble Phantasm was the definition of indiscriminate. Why would you ever send that kind of Servant out with an army? Honestly, I think he did more harm than good when he uncorked that thing."

"Hmmm. But recall what Emperor Nero said. At first, he simply presented himself at the gates, upon which she welcomed him into the city. It was only once he was face to face with her that he attacked." Chiron was staring at the stars. "As unorthodox as it sounds, it would seem they were using a Berserker as an Assassin, of all things."

"And then, with the Emperor dead, he could have plunged the entire city into madness," said Kratos.

"They'd have torn each other apart, like fucking animals. Whole place would have been a burning wreck within hours," Cu wrapped his hands around the mug of wine had acquired from…..somewhere. "With the capital in flames, the rest of the holdouts would have toppled one by one. I guess we owe that Simon Magus guy a round of thanks, he kept us from dropping into an even worse situation."

"Still….things aren't good, are they?" asked Mash.

"No," said Kratos. "Even if this force is the only one behind the lines of battle, our enemies control the seas, and most of the lands beyond the north, where the Roman Legions hold back the United Roman Empire."

"You're taking a portion of the Legion with you when you head to, what was it…" Fujimaru scrunched her face up and thought. "Neapolis, right? One of the few remaining port cities left, and where most of the surviving Roman Navy is?"

"That's the place," said Cu, finishing off his drink. "Bit of a hike to the south, but Rome's watched too closely, and the other one's too close to the front lines. Neapolis is also about the same distance to the three major islands where the United Roman Empire has set up bases. Gives us our pick of which one we want to hit." He set his mug down into the sand. "Guess I'll swap out with Rider early tomorrow morning, before we set off. But the second you're back on land, you'd better get me back into the thick of things, Kratos! Girl got the lion's share of fun in France, after all."

"Leaving us, Caster? And here I was set to award you Imperial Laurels for your service to Rome," Nero walked out into the firelight, glancing over the assembled Chaldeans, apparently looking for a chair, or even a large enough rock to sit on. But finding none, she shrugged, and dropped down to sprawl in the sand.

Fujimaru sputtered. "No, Emperor Nero, your dress, you'll get sand all over it! You…you can have my seat," Fujimaru's 'seat' being little more than a smallish rock the girl was perched on.

"Nonsense! If the sand is good enough for my men, and my stout allies from the land of Chaldea, it is good enough for the Emperor!" Her voice dropped. "It is also more comfortable to sit upon something soft, given my still mending injuries."

"Injuries that you thankfully did not exacerbate with your stunt today," muttered Chiron, his voice just as low. "But while we are honored that you have graced our campfire, Emperor Nero, I assume you are not here merely for our company?"

"Yeah, did you get the officers to sing?" asked Cu.

"Indeed, Caster. That is part of why I was going to award you honors for your service, you picked well in the men you captured. We did not even need to use more severe methods to get them to talk," Nero reached down, and began drawing in the sand with her finger. "Sadly, they had little of note to tell us that we were not already aware of. They were dropped off here a week past by a ship, and told to do their best to bring down Rome itself. And they were 'gifted' Caligula as the means to do so."

"Then, them marching right up to your gates was their idea?" Cu cupped his chin. "They've got some brass ones, I'll give them that."

"Umu. It is no secret I was fond of my uncle when he was alive, despite his…flaws. They read me well, and came within a hair's breadth of toppling the Empire." Nero scraped one last line through the sand, putting the finishing touches on her picture - a portrait of her uncle. For a long moment, she stared at it, then brushed her hand over it, smearing it out. "If, as you say, that truly was my uncle, I cannot fully express my gratitude in helping me lay him to rest. Maddened dog that he was as this 'Servant', I feel had he killed me, it would have further destroyed him."

For a time, there was only the sound of the night winds, the crash of the sea, and the merriment around them as the surviving soldiers celebrated a victory that had become all too rare in recent days - joy that did not touch the Chaldean campfire.

"What of their plans for escape, Emperor Nero?" asked Chiron. "By their behavior when we came upon them, it certainly seemed like they expected a ship to be waiting there."

Nero's face broke out into a smug grin. "That, in fact, was one of the reasons they were so easy to break. A ship was supposed to be waiting, off-shore, but close enough that they could signal it, in the event they required egress. They arrived at the shore the very evening after the battle, and signaled the ship they expected to be waiting. And signaled, and signaled, and signaled. Up until we came upon them."

Kratos frowned. "They were abandoned?"

"That is the conclusion I allowed them to come to, as it best served our purposes. Once the seed of the idea was planted, it took little time to bear fruit - they fell over one another trying to gain the favor of myself and my officers by selling out their former masters," Nero shrugged. "And while it certainly appears they were left to fend for themselves, something does not feel quite right with that."

"I can see them writing off the Homunculi soldiers," said Fujimaru, an ugly scowl on her face. "I don't like it, but I can understand the logic of Lev, or whoever is calling the shots. They're easy enough to replace in the long run. But to throw away a Servant with them just seems….stupid really."

"And, even as a Berserker, Caligula was a former Roman Emperor. He gave some legitimacy to their cause, as you yourself said, Emperor Nero." The Emperor nodded at this, and Chiron continued. "In the scenario where they did just abandon such a valuable piece, that would imply that they have in their possession much greater than he."

Nero chewed at her lower lip. "While I did not wish to believe them, reports from Florentia say that he who would have been the first Emperor, had assassins not cut him down, leads the army there."

Romani made a strangled sort of noise. "The first….please tell me you're not talking about Caesar himself!"

Nero bowed her head. "I had thought it lies, an imposter trying to claim the name of the greatest Emperor of Rome's past to sway the foolish to their side. But now, with what you have told me of Servants…" She looked up, eyes boring a hole through Romani. "I have agents, foreigners who have been aiding me in my fight. At first, I thought them merely powerful warriors, but now, I begin to suspect what they are."

She held up four fingers, then lowered two. "Two of them I have not had any form of contact with in months, ever since we were pushed back to Rome's doorstep. The last I heard, they were still holding the United Roman Empire back in Lugdunum, though they were heavily besieged. The other two I had dispatched to the front lines - it was they, as well as my officers there, who spoke of Great Caesar having set himself against us."

Cu sighed. "Maaaaaan. And I'm tagging out with a Servant like that waiting just a little to the north? Curse my rotten luck."

Fujimaru patted Cu on the back. "If it's any consolation, Caster, even if you were sticking around, you'd be stuck on a boat while I get to go see the First Emperor of Rome."

Cu fixed her with a look. "Girlie, that ain't no consolation at all."

Romani raised his hand. "Your Majesty, if I may ask, who are these two Servants, as it sounds like that's what you suspect them to be, who have been aiding you in the north? And the other two, who are cut off, as well?"

Nero hid a flinch. "The two who were cut off are likely dead by now, so there is little point in speaking of them. But the other two who are waiting in Florentia had strange, foreign names, and, like you, claimed to be from far to the east." She pursed her lips, thinking. "I believe they called themselves Jing Ke and Lu Bu."

Fujimaru gave a low whistle. "The Flying General himself, and China's most famous Assassin? Those are some hefty names, if that's who they really are."

Nero nodded. "You speak truly, Lady Fujimaru. While I have not had occasion to see Jing Ke fight, Lu Bu was like unto one of the Titans on the battlefield. I witnessed him battering aside entire centuries with little more effort than you or I would swat a fly. But they always had more to fill the gaps, and even his might was not enough to hold the lines. The walls at Florentia that my fabri constructed as we fell back have held them, for now, but that cannot last."

Fujimaru's hand ghosted over Nero's back for a second, then she shrugged, and committed, thumping the Emperor on the back. "That's where Archer, Mashie, and myself come in, your Majesty. I'm no tactical genius or anything, but my Sensei has a pretty good head on his shoulders. Two more Servants, and the Emperor herself should be enough to break the stalemate and get you some breathing room."

Cu fired the Emperor a raised thumb. "And meanwhile, Kratos and Rider will sweep the seas clean of your enemies, letting you finally do something with your ships other than collect barnacles."

Nero's would-be reply was swallowed up by a heavy yawn. "And, in the interests of an early start tomorrow, you should find your rest now, Emperor." Chiron was unfazed in the face of Nero's pout. "You ARE still recovering, so I must insist."

"Your words are wise, even if I find them unpalatable," Nero pushed herself to her feet. "I will retire, then. I will speak with you again in the morn, before we break camp and go our separate ways."

Kratos was, as his habit, up before the sun had fully begun to peek over the horizon. As the camp slowly began to stir, he ran through a quick series of exercises, knowing he would likely be doing little more than marching today - and then stuck on a boat for the foreseeable future. Best he push himself now, while he could.

It was only as he stopped, and began looking for a place to set his axe and the Blades that he noticed he had gained an audience. Cu was not surprising - the man had said the previous evening that he would look to return to Chaldea before they set out the next day. But the tiny Emperor was unexpected - he had fully expected her to still be sleeping at this hour.

"Want me to keep an eye on those while you take a dip?" asked Cu. Kratos nodded, and handed his weapons over to the Servant. Sea water was notoriously corrosive, and while he did not think it would do any harm to his weapons, best not to take chances.

A moment later, he emerged from the waters, shaking droplets from his form. It was not the miraculous showers that Chaldea possessed, but it was refreshing to feel clean again.

Nero was peering at his weapons as he walked over to where they lay, under Cu's watchful eye. "The make of your axe, Master Kratos, it is a wonder, and no style I have ever seen before. But these chain-blades - would I be correct in guessing that the workmanship is Greek? I see a common hand in the improvements done to them and your axe, but the underlying work of the swords puts me in mind of some of the treasures that lie within the Imperial Vaults from Rome's early days, when we gained dominance over the remains of the former Greek Republics."

Kratos grunted. "Yes. I have carried these Blades for most of my life, but their origin lies in Greece." Again, Kratos was surprised by the woman, but she had made several claims to be well-versed in art - claims that were apparently not all boasts. And there was artistry in both his wife's axe and the Blades of Chaos - as well as the improvements done by Sindri and Brok to each - though the Blades were much more of an ugly tool of destruction, in his eyes.

Cu seemed to sense that he was eager to change the subject (and given how good the man was becoming at reading Kratos' moods, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised). "I'm ready to head back whenever you're ready, Kratos. Most of the camp's still down, so unless you've any objections, now seems like as good a time as any."

Kratos nodded, and activated his communicator. Of Romani, there was no sign, nor Da Vinci. Instead, another tiny blonde woman greeted him.

"Kratos. Romani is still asleep - Da Vinci has mandated he get at least 8 hours before he returns to duty, and she's off doing the weekly maintenance check of the facility, so I'm warming his seat this morning." Tanya reached for a cup offscreen, and took a deep sip, a shiver running through her body. She sighed happily. "And with you and Fujimaru splitting up, I'll be filling in as a standby in the event one of you is already on comms with Romani when the other calls. I take it you're ready for the substitution, then?"

"Yes," he said. "Rider is standing by?"

"She's down in the waiting area right now by the Coffins." She glanced from side to side, and leaned in close to the screen. "Avenger has largely been behaving herself by virtue of constantly testing 'improvements' to her arm with Da Vinci. Are you certain that a shelter with some very thick walls isn't a good idea?"

Kratos shook his head. "I trust Da Vinci to not allow her ideas to get out of control."

Tanya snorted out a laugh. "I feel like someone isn't remembering a fire from about a week ago, but very well." She raised her finger. "Beginning swap in 3, 2, 1."

Cu slapped Kratos across the back, then faded from sight. Medusa's string in his mind flared to life, and a second later, the woman's feet touched down into the sands of the beach..

She glanced from side to side, and then took a deep breath. "The sea…..how long has it been, I wonder?" Wistfully, she gazed out at the crashing waves, her string vibrating with feelings of nostalgia and melancholy.

Nero, meanwhile, had perked up, and was staring intently at Rider. "Such a statuesque beauty! Between the fetching smith who made these braces for my leg, the exotic vision of loveliness who has just graced us with her presence, and even this woman here who looks like she could have been one of the fairies the First Emperor claimed to have fathered children with, Chaldea seems to be a place filled with beauties!" She nodded her head. "And that does not even touch the paragons of masculinity that are Caster and Kratos - even your Doctor Romani is passable to my eyes. Umu! I have decided! Someday, I must visit it myself!"

Medusa was staring at the Emperor, and, despite her mask, Kratos could see her blinking in confusion. "Rider," he rumbled. "This is the Emperor of Rome, Nero."

"Ah," she bowed her head. "Your Majesty. Servant Rider. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Nero tilted her head. "So formal. But your Archer has a similar manner, as does the Doctor Romani.. Are you one of their fellow physicians?"

"No," Medusa shook her head. "I am merely a soldier - I suppose that is the closest equivalent for a Servant."

"And your eyes?" She pointed at the blindfold. "Do you hide an old war wound behind that cloth? If so, you should not. Aloysius, one of my most trusted advisors, lost his sight in Britannica. But he remains at my side in a position of honor, for his mind remains as sharp as ever, and all respect the scars he took in the service of Rome."

"Oh, no. It's not a wound, it's to protect others from me." She shuffled her feet. "My eyes are something called Mystic Eyes - eyes that can produce a variety of magical effects. Mine can cause harm, so I hide them….and why am I telling you this?"

"Maybe you're just weak to tiny blonde women?" A yawning Fujimaru, her hair still mussed from sleep, joined them. "Looks like I missed saying goodbye to Caster, even getting up early like my dad always drilled me on, huh? Good to see you, though, Rider. I hope Avenger didn't drive you too crazy back at Chaldea."

"No, our paths have largely failed to cross since the operation began, thankfully," A tiny smile struggled into being, displacing her typically passive expression. "She's been occupied playing with her new arm, constantly running back to Da Vinci with feedback and ideas."

Fujimaru laughed, though it sounded almost more like a groan. "Lordy. Kratos, warn me before you bring in Avenger - want to make sure I'm wearing my asbestos underwear."

Nero was staring quizzically at them. "Avenger is the last Servant contracted with Chaldea, your Majesty," said Tanya. "If this civil war of yours persists, you'll undoubtedly be blessed with her unique character at some point."

"Avenger. Such a title to carry. I expect her to be as singular and as splendid as all the rest I have met from your land of Chaldea," Nero stretched, then turned. "But now, I must see to the affairs of the day, and hasten the breaking of our camp. I will see you all again, shortly, when I will dictate the divestment of our forces."

Fujimaru stretched. "Probably should go see about waking my Kohai, then, though I might hop in the ocean real quick - cold sea water does wonders for clearing out the cobwebs."

"I will sign off, then, if there's no further need for me at this time, always plenty to do around here," said Tanya. "Feel free to call should something come up." Her image winked out.

As Fujimaru waded into the surf, Medusa opened her mouth, started to say something, then closed her mouth - then finally found her voice and spoke. "Not to question you, Kratos, but, are you certain about revealing my mount to these people? The heroes…and villains of Greece are recent memories to the Romans. They'll quickly figure out who I am - and I wonder if that Emperor hasn't already started putting the pieces together. Things could get ugly if they realize the monster of the Shapeless Isle walks among them."

"Any who take issue with your presence shall answer to me," growled Kratos. "Whatever you were in the past, you are an ally now. You are not the monster you see yourself as. At least, not as I see you, by your behavior in the short time we have been contracted."

Medusa ducked her head, and fidgeted quietly for several seconds. "Thank you, Kratos," she said her voice soft.

A moment later, Fujimaru splashed out of the ocean, thoroughly waterlogged. "Alright, I feel like I can face the day now. Let's go wake up Mash."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: As this takes place before the Valhalla DLC, Kratos isn't aware that Odin's version of Valhalla for the Einherjar isn't QUITE what the actual Valhalla is.

Yes, in lore, Flucticulus Diana isn't supposed to work on those related to Diana/Artemis, which technically includes Kratos, but since he's not related to the Nasuverse Diana/Artemis, he doesn't get that immunity.

I'm interpreting 'Defense Down' as a general weakening of the flesh and slowing down so you can't dodge/block/parry as effectively - so for Kratos, that means his pain tolerance goes down a bit as well, beyond the obvious of he's just easier to damage. Skill Seal for him is a locking out of his runic attacks, since those are about the closest thing he has to skills. Noble Phantasm Seal is locking him out of Spartan Rage - he doesn't HAVE a Noble Phantasm, since he's not a Servant, but Spartan Rage skews close enough to it that that's how I'm choosing to implement it. It could also just fall under the same umbrella as Skill Seal.

Thankfully, most of the other status effects in FGO are straightforward enough that there's no real difficulty in translating them to a crossover character - stuff like Stun, Burn, Curse, etc are obvious in how they'd affect Kratos.

No luck on Bakin. Got two Nikitich spooks, and a Faker, which were both new, at least. My Better Half got a Napoleon Spook on her first roll, then a double Bakin a little later - clearly Bakin knew which one of us has a Terminal Case of Dog on the Brain. I swear, between petting the dogs, sending them out on missions by playing fetch with them, and just the general dog-content (including Barghest, who she ADORES), she's going to die from doggo overload before this event is over.

Wasn't really able to get to a good stopping point for this chapter, so this is where I decided to halt it. Next chapter will be split between Kratos and Medusa's High Seas Adventures, and Fujimaru's flailing at the front lines.

This chapter brought to you by Zankyou Zanka.