Something Lost, Something Found

by Avenger013

This is a story of a new beginning and a growing bond...and it all started with a chin scratch. Advance Warning: There will be spoilers for Fairy Round Table Realm: Avalon Le Fae in this story. If you'd rather not be spoilt then refrain from reading.

5. Confrontations and Confidants

Chapter 5: Confrontations and Confidants

'Knock knock knock'.

"Who is it?" Morgan looked up from her desk full of parchment, filled to the brim with magical formulae and calculations, at the sound coming from her door.

"It's us, mother!"

"Ah, Baobhan Sith, do come in." Filing away her notes and transporting all of her equipment to the pocket dimension she'd seen fit to set up a few days ago, Morgan strode over to the door and thumbed the release panel.

Upon the door opening, she was immediately greeted by her three knights...and hugged by her daughter.

Initially surprised for a second, the Fae Queen returned the hug quickly. Inwardly, she was quite pleased at their newfound closeness, an unexpected beneficial result of the Rayshift she'd been part of a couple of weeks ago.

The moment she'd actually gotten details of the Rayshift, as well as seen the numerous injured Knights of the Round in the med bay, Baobhan Sith had practically battered Morgan's door down and fretted over her mother's condition. Despite Morgan's attempts at reassuring her, her daughter had insisted on checking her over, convinced that she was downplaying possible injuries.

Still, Morgan had been quite touched at Baobhan's concern for her welfare and, seeing it partially as an opportunity to endear herself more to Ritsuka and partially as an attempt to build the relationship she'd not been able to have with her daughter in Fae Britain, had invited the Archer to join her and Habetrot for tea the following day.

It hadn't gone too well, admittedly. Her daughter had lasted a good 10 minutes before she'd started acting condescending to the linen spinner for being 'common trash', provoking Morgan into taking her aside and giving her a thorough lecturing about how to treat her mother's guests, before dismissing her and going back to comfort Habetrot.

It had hurt to see the crushed look on Baobhan Sith's face...but as Morgan had learnt, sometimes a firm hand was needed to remedy troubling behaviour.

That, and no one was allowed to insult her dear friend on her watch. No one.

Thankfully, she'd gotten the message, and by the next few tea parties Baobhan was far better behaved. She'd even managed to choke out an apology to Habetrot for her prior behaviour, earning her a pat on the head from her mother. After all, it had taken quite a bit of maturity for her usually proud daughter to admit that she was wrong about something.

The happy sparkle in her eyes had made enduring her sadness from the earlier scolding worth it.

She felt as if this was an important step in 'rehabilitating' her daughter, in a certain manner. All that was left was to find her a few friends.

Well, she's had these past two weeks to approach a few of the other Servants here at her leisure. I'll have a talk with her after this to see how she's getting along.

"Welcome, welcome. Thank you for responding to my summons once more."

"It's not a problem, your majesty. After all, even here, we are still your knights." Melusine replied, though she briefly broke her gaze to try and hide the flash of guilt across her eyes.

"So, what's the occasion today then, mother?" Baobhan asked, as the trio took seats on the chairs that Morgan pulled from her pocket dimension storage.

"Can we assume it has something to do with Master?" Barghest wondered.

"Not today, actually. Today is more of a…'catch up', is what I suppose you could call it. It's been a couple of weeks since 'that' expedition happened, and I wanted to see how everyone has been getting along." Morgan said.

The knight trio exchanged slightly confused looks.

"I can understand that this might be confusing, I know that I never did this in the Fairy Kingdom, but I'm trying to be more…open with you. After all, doesn't our Master like it when his Servants get along?"

Her subordinates still looked a little hesitant.

"If it helps you feel more comfortable, then think of it as a situation report about your life here." Morgan suggested.

That seemed to convince them, given the acknowledging nods and shrugs the Fairies shared.

"Now then, who would like to go first?"

Baobhan Sith's hand immediately shot into the air.

"Very well, Baobhan Sith. You go first."

"I've found a great way to unwind! Turns out, the simulator in this place is great for blowing off steam whenever I get talked back to by one of the lower-class runts! I mean, how DARE they not treat me with the proper respect!? So, I just program the simulator to give me copies of them to beat up and grind into the dirt, so they can crawl at my feet and lick my boots like the trash they are, that makes me feel better!"

Her colleagues exchanged exasperated sighs, while Morgan just shook her head with a small smile.

Things weren't going to change overnight, but at least Baobhan Sith now had the sense to take out her anger on replicants of those that angered her, rather than the people in question. That was a good first step.

"Are you at least polite with them in person?" She asked.

"I'm trying, but it's sooooo hard!" Baobhan whined. "I mean, I dare YOU to try standing there and smiling and being all polite to people who don't respect you like that! It's almost impossible!"

"I have, Baobhan Sith. Almost every time there was a meeting between me and the Fairy Clan leaders, in fact." Morgan gently reminded her.

"O...oh."

She'd never seen her daughter look quite so embarrassed and apologetic before in her life.

"Snrk."

Glancing over, Morgan could see Barghest and Melusine attempting to smother their giggles at the sight.

"Sh-Shut up." Baobhan whined.

"Alright then, moving on...what about you, Melusine?"

"I've been having a great time here! Aaahh, there's so many cool modern weapons to see here!" She gushed.

"Modern weapons...why are you so interested in those?" Barghest asked. "Don't you have your own weapons?"

"Well yeah, but this is different! Just think of how cool it would look to attach that shifty old man's coffin to my wings so I could shoot things with them! Or Sir Lancelot and I patrolling the skies together! Once I've finally reached my true form, then I'll finally be able to compete properly with that damned horse!"

"Horse? Which horse?"

"The one that armoured man has! The mechanical one that turns into a huge robot...nnggh, I'm so jealous of the way it takes Master's attention away! It might have beaten me that one time, but eventually I'll get to use my true power to fight it, and then I'll PROVE that I'm a better aerial fighter for sure! I just need more embers and those flame things!"

That unpleasant feeling came back at hearing how Ritsuka's attention could be so easily occupied by the wonders of technology, but Morgan shook it off and spoke up.

"I...I see, congratulations on finding such a passion for yourself. What of you, Barghest?"

"It's been...very pleasant." She said, smiling to herself.

"Here, I don't feel the pull of my curse quite so much, and I've found that there are those willing to support me should I feel it begin to...act up. Brynhildr in particular understands me quite well...after all, her curse is quite similar to mine, even if the purposes are different.

"However, there is a little problem that I have. A-And it involves, ah...someone her majesty knows."

"And who would that be?" Morgan was a little confused.

"T-That linen spinner. The guardian of the brides, Miss Habetrot." Barghest all but whispered, very nervous.

The room's atmosphere iced over. Quite literally, as the temperature dropped by about 10 degrees in a mere 2 seconds.

"...and what problem, exactly, do you have with dear Habetrot?" Morgan practically growled, blue eyes narrowed and laser focused on her knight, as if daring her to say something else she didn't like.

"I-I-It's not anything to do with the person herself, I promise your majesty! She's perfectly pleasant!" Barghest insisted, frantically attempting to backpedal before any lasting damage was done...especially to her.

"It's simply that, whenever I try to talk to her about possibly commissioning a dress of some sort...she runs away from me! I-I've tried to ask why, but she just says something about it being for the good of 'the bride inside', and I'm not sure what she means! I'm just a little bit frustrated at her avoiding me so much!"

"...I see." Morgan said, taking a few steadying breaths as the room temperature returned to normal. "My apologies for...jumping to conclusions in that manner. I will try to speak to her about it and perhaps clear things up between you two."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"What about you mother?!" Baobhan asked, jiggling around in her seat and waving her hand in the air impatiently.

"We're all doing fine, but what about you?! What happened on that expedition you went on with Master and those human knights a couple of weeks ago?! I saw most of them getting taken to the medical ward by that nurse, but nobody would tell me anything when I wanted to know! Did something bad happen on the expedition, were you okay, were yo-"

"Calm yourself, Baobhan Sith. If you wish to know, I will tell you, but please relax a little. Getting so worked up isn't good for you all the time." Morgan soothed, trying to placate her daughter before her imagination ran wild, as it often did when she thought her mother might've been hurt when she wasn't looking.

"There were some...unexpected complications on the Rayshift. Celtic resistance was expected, but not to the point of fighting whole armies of them to retrieve the materials we'd come to collect, as we needed to do. Of course, they were no match for my abilities...and I suppose that tainted Artoria handled herself just fi...we...adequately." Morgan spat the last few words out as if they were physically harmful.

"What happened after that?"

"That tainted Artoria, Habetrot and I needed to go and save Master, Mashu and Artoria's gaggle from Vortigern-"

"EEEHH!?" Her explanation was cut off by cries of surprise.

Hmm?

"So, that twisted Fairy King has turned on Chaldea, has he?" Barghest growled, reaching for Galatine with fire licking at her lips and smoke blowing from her nose. "I knew he couldn't be trusted…"

Fairy King…? Why would they th-

"Don't worry, mother! If he's anywhere around here, then I'll deal with him!" Baobhan Sith insisted, strumming at Failnaught with a bloodthirsty look in her eyes.

Ah. There's been a misunderstanding, hasn't there? I don't think they were ever told about that man...

"You'll have to get in line. I'll show him why he should fear the power of the strongest Fairy Knight." Melusine was glaring into the distance, clenching her fists.

"We'll be right back, mother!" The trio made to leave their seats…

Only to be pushed back down into their seats by gravity runes.

"Wait a moment, you three. There's been a misunderstanding here. Just wait, and I will explain." Morgan said.

Flashing their queen looks of confusion, the three knights nonetheless de-summoned their weapons and tried to calm themselves. Once she was sure they were relaxed, Morgan began to explain.

"The Vortigern that tainted Artoria, Habetrot and I encountered wasn't that bug that loafs about these halls. It was the nemesis of the King of Knights, from Panhuman History. Apparently, he was attracted to the Singularity by the presence of so many of her bootlickers all in one place."

"The Vile King was there!? The Usurper King who killed Uther Pendragon?!" Barghest gaped. "Unbelievable! To think I'd missed out on such a legendary confrontation and the opportunity to show that man the strength of a Fairy Knight..."

She trailed off as she noticed her fellow Fae staring at her, questioning looks in their eyes.

"How do you know all that?" Baobhan asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Um, I...I've had some talks with Sir Gawain about it, as a matter of fact…" An adorable blush stained the blonde's face as she averted her gaze. "I was very interested to hear about their adventures. They are my idols in the realm of knighthood after all, and-"

The rest of her explanation faded into background noise, Morgan ceasing to focus on her knights as her thoughts turned inward.

Her grip on her chair tightened, the corners of her lips turned up into a scowl as her eyebrows knit together.

The revelation that the Proper History's Vortigern had been the one to kill that world's Uther was not in itself too troubling. After all, the memories she'd received from her other self hadn't exactly painted the man in the best light.

Not only were his children treated more like tools than actual family -yes, even Artoria- but he'd even passed over her alternate as the heir to the throne, despite her inheriting the primordial black magic of Britain and clearly being the better choice over that robotic, emotionally numb fool of a girl.

All in all, such an inept buffoon was better off dead. Her Panhuman self had even observed his last battle.

The key issue, however, was that her mind quickly began to wander, injecting other figures into these foreign memories.

Before Morgan knew what was happening, the cold and sterile environment of her room in Chaldea was replaced by a wet, humid forest. The aged, stern, arrogant figure of Uther Pendragon was replaced by a youthful, confident, and commanding figure. She couldn't quite make out who it was, but that armour...that smile of his…

She felt like she should know him. Was that…?

Wh…? What?

Morgan tried reaching out to him, tried calling for him to identify himself...and was rather stunned to hear a far more youthful voice come from her lips.

She searched around for a nearby puddle and peered into it.

The face in the water was too blurred and foggy to properly make out, but it was definitely not hers.

The hair was vaguely yellow-coloured. The eyes she couldn't see and...was that some sort of bow around her lapel?

Morgan wracked her brain, trying to come up with an answer. She SHOULD know who this was, surely? It was her, after all...wasn't it?

It felt like she was in a fog, the thoughts wouldn't quite come to her.

In those few moments of distraction, the armoured figure began moving. He donned his helmet, turned away and began riding out at the head of an army.

When had they gotten there? This forest was far too cramped, wasn't i-

Oh. They were in a clearing now.

What?

Wait...please wait! She cried out mentally, lost in the impromptu memory flashback-turned-nightmarish daydream.

The figure and his army began to clash with another army right before her eyes. Though he and his soldiers were still fairly foggy and unfocused, Morgan's mind trying and failing to fill in the gaps currently in her memory, their opponents were much easier to make out.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she caught sight of them proper.

Mors. Hundreds of them. All led by an imposing, armoured figure cloaked in living shadow.

Vortigern.

He and the first army's leader moved straight for one another, both raising their weapons and preparing to strike…

No...NO! She cried, raising her arms and trying to cast a spell, any spell.

But it was useless, Vortigern cut down the armoured man in moments with his blazing blade.

Heedless of any danger, Morgan forced herself forward, dodging and weaving between the blurry forms of the human warriors and crawling Mors as she ran to the armoured figure's side. The plate armour and chainmail were torn and dented, blood trickling from between the various openings.

Cursing, Morgan fumbled with the helmet, yanking it off…

Only to be met with the face of Uther. Her Uther.

Much like Artoria before her, Morgan gasped as a switch was flipped in her mind, the once-foggy scenery and soldiers in the background snapping into very sharp focus, more of her long-suppressed old memories rushing back to her.

He's so pale. There's so much blood…

Reaching up to her, the dying Uther managed one last smile.

"S-Sorry Tonelico...guess this is the end of my service."

No, wait! Just hold on, Uther. I can heal-!

As Uther's eyes closed for the last time, he faded into mist and the scenery shifted again. This time, she was in a darkened marble hall, full of overturned wooden tables and benches, with foodstuffs and spilled drinks littering the floor.

And bodies...many, many bodies.

Humans. Fae. Beasts...there were dozens of them. All so pale and lifeless.

Morgan knew at once where her wandering mind had taken her, as a wave of revulsion and sorrow hit her all at once.

I...it's been so long since I saw this. Why now...why do you need to return NOW?

She'd been doing everything RIGHT, hadn't she!? Why was her mind dredging all of this up? Was this just its idea of some sick joke?!

Just leave me be. LEAVE ME BE. I'm past you now! This is NOT happening again! It CAN'T!

As if obliging her, the marble hall dissolved into mist and was swept away…

To be replaced by the image of a damp, dark forest and a dilapidated shack.

Her breath hitched again at the sight.

How long had it been since she'd found this place, all those millennia ago?

How long had she stayed here, crying herself raw at her failure day in and day out, only leaving to steal food from the nearby villages...and kill any Fairy that tried to get in her way?

Walking up to the door, Morgan swallowed hard, debating with herself for a few moments.

She'd never had the courage to return here. Not even in the-

"Haaaahh, so you failed again, eh?"

That voice…

How did he manage to...?

Wheeling about, trying to keep the shiver from her spine, she found the armoured figure of Vortigern standing a mere few feet from her.

But there was something wrong. The Vortigern from the Proper History might have dressed like that, but he certainly didn't sound like that. He was too high-pitched.

"Don't worry, I still respect you!" He continued. "How could I not? You've bent the knee to humanity, like all the other Lostbelt Kings! That takes real guts, I think, to serve your conqueror."

Those words...had she heard them before?

"Guess we're in the same boat there...ah, but don't lump me in with your lot." Vortigern continued, reaching up to his helmet.

Wait...could it be?

"After all, you're all losers who failed and had what they cared about swept from under them."

Vortigern pulled his helmet right off.

A mixture of cold shock and boiling rage surged through Morgan as she got a good look at his face.

In the place of a wizened, elderly face, white-grey hair and green eyes, there was a smooth and youthful face, with cool blue eyes, dark grey hair and a crown of small blue diamond-shaped objects adorning his forehead.

"And here I stand, a winner who managed to achieve his goal and fulfil his purpose."

You...damned bug.

Vortigern grinned down at her.

Morgan's fingers tightened around her staff.

"And you know something? I wouldn't have even existed in the first place if you hadn't tried so hard to keep that rotten place alive. You fail for so long...and yet succeed in bringing me to life. Me, who helped bring that frail little kingdom of yours down around you. Funny how things work out, eh?"

Thoroughly enraged, Morgan swung her staff around, a blaze of destructive magic forming at the tip.

This time, I won't hesitate, you INSECT. I'll CRUSH you! I'll kill you I'll kill you I'LLKILLYO-

"...other…..mother!"

W-what…? Baobhan Sith…

"MOTHER!"

All at once, the environment and image before her completely collapsed as Morgan was shaken by the shoulders. Breath shallow and heart racing, she blinked a few times and then closed her eyes. Once she opened them again, she found herself back in her room at Chaldea.

And staring directly at the large scorch mark on the wall. From the way her spear was raised and the threatening glow at the end of it…

I lost myself a moment there, didn't I?

Looking around, she saw that Baobhan Sith looked worried, while her fellow knights looked far more unnerved at her outburst.

I can understand why. I...I don't think they've ever seen me like this before. They should never have had to in the first place...why, why now?

Why is this happening to m-

"Mother?" Baobhan's soft voice once more dragged her back to the present. The Archer's hands were softly squeezing her mother's spear-wielding arm.

"What is it, Baobhan Sith?" She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"...have you been sleeping okay recently?"

Before she could reply, Barghest jumped in with her own query.

"Your majesty, what just happened?"

"You looked like you were in a trance or something." Melusine added.

"I...I was...lost in thought. Thoughts that I hoped would not be a problem again." Morgan muttered.

"My apologies, but...could we perhaps cut this short? I think some rest would be best for me for now."

The Lancer and Saber didn't look completely mollified, but nonetheless bid her farewell and headed for the door. Baobhan Sith, on the other hand, remained behind, her look of concern never faltering.

Once her fellows had left, she spoke up.

"You didn't answer my question mother, have you been sleeping well lately?" She asked again, a firmness in her voice that was typically absent when conversing with the Fae Queen.

At once, just from seeing her look and hearing her tone, Morgan knew that Baobhan would not be moved until she got the truth. Even if she were to teleport her out of the room or throw up wards around the doors and walls to keep her out, the Archer would simply break in some other way or wait for Morgan to leave the room, then pester her until she gave in.

After all, that was how it had gone almost every other time this particular problem had reared its head.

"I have been, I promise that this is the first time I've...relapsed in this manner."

"But why? I thought you were okay now."

"So did I, but then again...that was back in the Fairy Kingdom. Perhaps this change of environment was not entirely a good thing after all." Morgan said, looking downcast.

"Do you want me to stay here?" Baobhan asked, hugging her mother. "That way, I can...I can protect you from the nightmares again."

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't think that's quite necessary just yet." Morgan hugged her back with her free arm, a grateful smile on her lips. "For now, I think a good night's sleep is what I need...and to stay away from anything involving that cursed 'sister' of mine."

"Eh? Why her?"

"Barghest was talking about her legends at the time. Anything related to that woman seems to be a...a trigger. What a surprise...perhaps I should get rid of some of these foreign memories at last, that might help…"

You're lying to her. Why are you lying to her?

"Well okay, if you think you're sure...I'll go tell the others."

"Thank you, Baobhan Sith. Have a good night."

"You too, mother."

---

She couldn't sleep.

Typically, this wouldn't be too much of an issue for her. After all, she'd long since discovered potions that bolstered her energy levels and regulated her physiology well enough that she could function on a mere hour or two of sleep a night. A sip or two from one of them would be more than enough to recharge her energy levels for at least the next day, if not more.

The problem, however, was that it was not an excess of energy or an improperly timed potion that kept her up.

It was that she simply did not want to sleep.

After all, her mind had betrayed her enough when she'd been awake...Morgan did not want to imagine what sort of unnerving, distorted reminders of her past would be conjured up by her mind when she was asleep, unable to side-track herself with another train of thought.

But what to do?

She'd already stayed up well into the night preoccupying herself with idle thoughts about tinkering with her Saint Graph. She certainly knew it was possible, but she'd been more than a little shocked when told just how many Servants had had their Spirit Origins tinkered with by that shadow queen...and so casually too.

Her competitive side had been roused by that knowledge. If some mere Celtic warrior could command Primordial Runes to so easily alter her fellow Servants at will like that, then Morgan was determined to catch up to and surpass her.

The way that version of her just struts around in such revealing clothing...who does she think she is, flaunting herself like that!?

She already insists on calling him a 'student' of hers, is the clothing really necessary?! Such a crass way to curry favour…

When summer next came, she would surely have the opportunity to show off her own, superior skill at Runecraft. What was a meagre two thousand years of experience compared to her many?

She would prove herself the superior Rune mage. There was no doubt about that.

And surely, her Master's gaze would follow her instead of that Celtic barba-

Eh?

...where did that thought come from?

Best to leave that particular train of thought behind.

Perhaps she could go for a walk? Just to clear her mind...and perhaps map the layout of 'New Chaldea' a little more thoroughly.

After all, it would simply not do for her to get lost in this place again. Her dignity would not allow it.

Especially in front of that cursed tainted Artoria. The original was bad enough, with that insultingly stuck up and stuffy attitude of hers...and then her tainted version took that and added a tendency towards sarcasm and insults on top of it.

Yes, it was decided. She'd go for a walk.

Should she invite Baobhan Sith or Habetrot along, perhaps?

No...they would probably be resting just fine. No need to disturb them with her issues.

Glancing over to her desk, Morgan sighed as she noticed all the sprawled equations and rune-filled papers.

First, a clean-up was in order.

---

Haaah…

Finally stepping out in the hallway, Morgan sighed to herself, giving her now-tidy room one last look before the door shut behind her.

It had taken her a lot longer than she thought it would to clean the place up, even with her Magecraft on hand to help. That was...quite thoroughly disappointing.

She was ashamed to admit that she'd gotten a little...distracted while trying to clean. Heard something she most certainly should not be hearing.

"Tonelico."

As soon as the faint, ethereal whisper reached her ears, Morgan spun on her heel, spear flashing with a burst of magical energy.

As expected, there was no one and nothing there.

Well, save for the scorch mark on the wall from her magic blast.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm her rapidly thundering heartbeat, Morgan wiped at her suddenly moist brow and looked around.

No one was around to see her. Good.

These damned…

Shaking her head and blinking rapidly to try and centre herself, Morgan decided that it was best to head over to the part of New Chaldea that directly bordered the main area of the Wandering Sea, then simply wander randomly through the halls until she felt tired enough to return to her room and nod off.

After all, there was a distinct lack of 'customization' for those halls, as they were rarely used by either the remaining Staff or the much larger Servant population. They were bland and uninteresting enough that the more...treasonous parts of her mind couldn't be roused by any of the sights and sounds.

Plus, she wouldn't run into anyone from Chaldea there either, which would inevitably result in being drawn into conversations that were very much unwanted by Morgan at this point. As far as she was concerned, solitude was a far better medicine for her affliction than company. It had worked for her before.

She'd be able to shove these troubling thoughts and memories back down and lock them away in the recesses of her mind, unused and unwanted. She was past all of that.

Morgan carved a small mystic rune onto her room's door. It was just small enough to evade easy notice yet large enough to emit a small hint of magical energy, just to provide some sort of anchor for her Mana tracking spell to lock on to and lead her back when she was ready.

Taking one last sigh and stretching her limbs, Morgan began to walk, heading to the left of her room.

The cool, stale air of Chaldea's interior whipped around her body as she strode through the corridors. The rhythmic clacking of her spear's handle against the floor gave Morgan something of a constant to focus on.

As she moved further away from 'Chaldea' and began entering into the less developed portion of the facility facsimile, the periodic whistling of indoor drafts began to reach her ears. It was a sure sign that she was reaching near to the Wandering Sea's primary facilities, where the Magi within toiled away ceaselessly, far too enthralled by their research and experiments to lend aid to the refugees of humanity.

A part of Morgan wanted to see what mystic formulae, long-forgotten rune, strange new element or magical experiment could possibly consume their lives so fully. However, getting a look at them would inevitably involve breaching the heavy magical defences they'd set up around their workshops.

While she had little doubt that she was capable of dismantling their security, Morgan knew that such an act would not be looked on favourably by the Wandering Sea Magi or her Master, so she stayed her hand and reined in her curiosity by force.

Mmmm...this has actually been pleasant thus far.

She might not be able to indulge her hunger for mystic knowledge, but at least she was getting some guaranteed time away from everyone else. While she obviously adored spending time with Baobhan Sith and Habetrot, and to a lesser extent Mash as well, that inevitably involved getting caught in conversations with other Servants on the way around Chaldea...which led to talks with them.

Where did Chaldea FIND all these Artorias?! Especially that screeching Assassin that insisted she was an 'Anti-Saber weapon', or the one that wielded some sort of double-bladed laser sword and kept getting called "a Sith cosplayer" (whatever that was) by Chaldea's human staff.

Or what about the times she'd had to steer clear of all those pink-haired vampiric children 'Idols' with the dreadful voices who just couldn't. Leave. Jukeboxes. ALONE.

Or how about having to listen to the inane, and sometimes downright incomprehensible, conversations of that group of Japanese Heroic Spirits? The ones with all those Shinsengumi members that called themselves the "GudaGuda Gang"? All the talk about Class Triangles, Bond Levels, 'EXP' and 'Limit Breaking'...who could follow any of that!?

And then there was the fact that not only did three of them have a clone of themselves wandering around with the group, but they were also manifested in a different Servant Class than normal...and wearing swimsuits.

Yes. They said it was for when Summer next came, but they wore them indoors. They wore them on combat expeditions. They even wore them in Winter environments.

Why Ritsuka kept that gaggle of idiots around was anyone's guess. Best for her not to think too hard about what they were saying, she'd likely drive herself to a whole new breakdown.

That wasn't even getting started on those who'd taken it upon themselves to stand guard over Ritsuka 24/7...especially those who occupied his room.

An Assassin whose entire body was poisonous, that huge-chested 'Mystery Killer' who'd appointed herself Master's mother and a psychotic, delusional 12-year-old who seemed to think she and Ritsuka were married already, despite that clearly not being the case.

Compared to them, the God-cursed Assassin, 'Cavern King' Avenger and the ex-Grand Assassin were all relatively normal people, despite the latter's obsession with decapitation and the former's constant cackling (accompanied by some of the most hostile grins she'd ever seen) over the most mundane amusements.

And that wasn't even getting into the two Outer God Vessels that liked to cuddle up to him if they felt tormented at night. With the power they wielded...wasn't Ritsuka even the slightest bit cautious about letting them get so close to him? Or even having them in Chaldea at all!?

How did Ritsuka put up with all of them being in his presence constantly, especially that 12-year-old (what was her…? 'Kiyohime', wasn't it?). The last she'd heard of Kiyohime, she and Melusine had nearly picked a fight with one another on the way back from Melusine's latest Rayshift! Well, it was more like Kiyohime had been trying to provoke and pick a fight with Melusine.

That delusional girl was VERY lucky that her knight had been trying her hardest not to react no matter how many insults and threats the Berserker swung her way.

And what was her knight's crime?

Hugging Ritsuka when he praised her. Which Kiyohime perceived as a threat to 'her' husband.

Oh yes...and there was her complete and utter inability to take any form of lie or half-truth. While Morgan could certainly relate to her hatred of deception, the fact that Kiyohime also perceived any form of contradiction to her delusional worldview as a lie was taking things too far.

Well, at least she was better than that small girl with the spiked flails...Penthesilia, was it? She could barely stand the sight of the great Trojan War hero Achilles, which Morgan could sympathise with considering that he killed her, while also flying into a rage at the mere mention of any synonym of the word 'beautiful'. You had to walk on just as many eggshells as you did around Kiyohime with that girl!

Or what about that girl that rode around on a huge skull all the time? AND not only had a fetish for taking the heads of her previous Masters as 'trophies of love' but had also explicitly expressed interest in adding THEIR CURRENT MASTER'S head to her little collection. Why was Ritsuka so willing to keep her around!?

And don't even get her started on that 'General of Repetition', Lu Bu Fengxian. She'd heard plenty of praise for his valour, strength and skill in battle from the other Servants, yes, but a quick search of the historical archives and that strange place called 'the internet' (after her curiosity had well and truly gotten the better of her, and she'd been willing to ask one of the more 'tech-savvy' Servants to help her) had revealed the less-glamorous side of the man's past to Morgan.

Her fellow Servants were obviously delusional, or damaged in their heads. That was the only reason Morgan could think of to explain their lavishing praise and trust on a man who not only murdered two separate foster fathers, but then went on to repeat that betrayal over and over and over again all across his native China. Did they not see just how dangerous he was to keep around!?

Oh, she'd been assured countless times that he was 'harmless' in his current state. That his Madness Enhancement inhibited his reason enough that the prospect of betraying Chaldea would be a line of thought he was incapable of entertaining even for a moment...but she'd seen inside that man's head with her mystic arts, his reason was more than intact enough for him to consider treachery.

Unlike the rest of the fools on the base, she wasn't going to just blindly trust in the charms of that 'Fran' girl to keep him in check, as they apparently did. After all, when she went berserk, so did he.

At least the nurse Berserker, Nightingale, was genuinely competent at her job. Unfortunately, that competence came with a heavy predisposition towards amputation as her go-to solution for just about any problem, no matter how minor. It was so bad that she needed someone else there to suggest, perhaps even explain at length, less extreme lifesaving methods, just so her patients weren't left permanently crippled after they walked in with something as easily treatable as a sprained ankle.

Really, Chaldea could be such a madhouse half the time. Of course, she'd need some sort of break sooner or later, or she'd break entirely.

Well, more so than you've done already.

"I...I can fix you, Uther! P-Please, just stay with me! STAY WITH ME! PLEASE! I can...can heal you…"

Shaking her head ferociously before her train of thought could derail again, Morgan sucked in a noisy breath and stomped forward with renewed purpose.

Don't think about that...do NOT think about that. That is your past, not your present.

Just focus on the walk. Focus on the...cold?

Wait, when did it get cold? And why could she feel it?

Quickly summoning a heat rune in her hand and placing it on her spear, projecting an aura of heat around the Berserker, Morgan looked this way and that, searching the corridor she was in to see if any of the ice-related Servants had managed to sneak up on her.

No…no one there.

Were the Wandering Sea Mages' experiments responsible, perhaps?

What could they possibly be working on that could be so cold?

"Oh great...as if my day couldn't get any worse with this indoor blizzard."

That voice...IT'S HIM.

Whipping around, adrenaline surging through her and her blood boiling at the sound, Morgan's spear found itself pointed at the last person she'd ever wanted to meet here.

How...how did I not realise he was here!? My tracking spell-

It wasn't working anymore. She must have dispelled it accidentally during her...her 'episode'.

Blast it all.

"Well? Either move or say something." Oberon-Vortigern said.

"What the HELL are you doing here, shitty bug?" Morgan snarled, jamming her spear right in the Pretender's face.

Oberon-Vortigern was utterly un-phased, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes.

"Well, I was trying to get some time to myself. Get away from the unpleasantness of being around all those idiots...and now I've got you waving a spear in my face. Can't say it's much of an improvement, really."

"It's about to get a whole lot worse for you unless you leave right now." Morgan growled, charging her spear and stepping closer.

"Why should I leave? I was here first. I've been out here for at least an hour and a half. Why don't YOU move?" Oberon-Vortigern replied, sneering at her. "After all, it's only proper that you bow to your superior."

"Superior?" Morgan practically hissed. "Explain your reasoning for that particular delusion, bug...right now."

"Well, I mean...you kicked the bucket before I did, I helped bring down your little house of cards and my Noble Phantasm is FAR more destructive than yours will ever manage to be.

"After all, a winner like me gets a weaponized concept made of curses, with Anti-World classification and limitless range and targets. Very hard to beat something like that." Oberon-Vortigern bragged, a smug grin growing on his face.

"Brag all you like, insect, I would have crushed you when you tried to fight me."

"And that's precisely why I didn't, you think I'm as stupid as you are?"

"Hmph…if you're not stupid, then you must have a death wish if you keep provoking me like this. Do you want me to stamp you out right now?"

"I WANT you to get the hell out of my way, maybe die in your sleep too...but hey, we can't always get what we want. Besides, it's not like you can actually attack me anyway. We're on the same side now, remember?"

"You and I will NEVER be on the same side, shitty insect. You and I were always destined to fight one another, that has not changed just because the Fairy Kingdom no longer exists."

"What, you're only just figuring that out now? Jeez, you're slower than I thought. Of course we were meant to fight each other, we were opposed the moment you tried saving a land that didn't want to be saved and rule a people that didn't want to be ruled. You tried to fight against the inevitable. That's how stupid you are.

"After all, if you'd not tried so hard, I wouldn't be here. So...thanks, I guess, for giving me this life of mine." Despite his words, Oberon-Vortigern's expression was still one of distaste as he spat out his grudging thanks.

Morgan, on the other hand, was positively livid at hearing those words again. Especially from HIM.

I don't need ANY more reminders of just how much my efforts went to waste.

While the Fae Queen was temporarily paralysed by her own rage, the Pretender sighed and simply stepped around her and began walking away, making to leave...until a magic barrier sprang up in front of him.

"I haven't given you permission to leave, shitty insect."

Rolling his eyes and growling in displeasure, he turned to face Morgan again.

"I don't need your permission to do anything, and if you're going to insist on getting in my way, well...guess I might just have to give you an up close and personal demonstration on just how powerful my Hollow Worm is. After all, you missed out on it last time." A bloodthirsty grin on his face, Oberon-Vortigern stalked forward until he was right in front of Morgan. "So how about it? What say we follow our fates all over again and settle things right here?"

"Oh yes, that sounds like a grand idea…" Morgan replied, summoning primordial runes into her free hand. "Don't worry, I'll make your death as excruciating as I can. It's the only worthy fate for an insect like you."

Before either of them could react, however, a bright wall of light manifested between them, while sudden gusts of wind forced them away from one another.

"What exactly is going on here?"

At the sound of that voice Oberon-Vortigern, who had previously been preparing to attack whomever it was that had dared interrupt his attempted fight with Morgan, froze in place.

"Damn it...I was really hoping she wouldn't show up."

Dispelling the barrier between the two as she floated forward, Artoria Avalon surveyed the scene before her.

"Why is that? Because you'd know I wouldn't tolerate your mischief?" She questioned, eyelids narrowing and pupils shrinking.

"I'd hardly call it mere mischief." Morgan snorted, trying to suppress her more vindictive side's irritation at the sight of her successor so deliberately hovering above her once more. "This shitty insect kept insisting that I do as he said and move, despite me being the first here!"

"Is that so…"

"Hah, if we're throwing blame around, then you should know that SHE threatened ME first!" Oberon-Vortigern snarled angrily, jabbing a chitin-covered finger in Morgan's direction. "All I do is address her and she's already pointing that spear at me! Why don't you get off my back for once and punish this vindictive and delusional hag instead?!"

"My...you really must have a death wish to CONTINUE provoking me, you worthless BUG."

The pressure in the corridor again reached a boiling point as Morgan and Oberon-Vortigern began to square up to one another...and then they were forced into the air and immobilized as Artoria Avalon manifested her runes again.

"You know there are rules about this sort of thing. If you have to pick a fight with one another, do it in the simulator...unless you'd rather I summon the Emergency Response Unit and have them punish you for breaking these rules? I'd rather not have to do that, you know. It'll be ever so noisy and Master, Mashu and the rest of the human staff need their sleep."

The Caster's lips were pursed into a thin line, while her green eyes lit up bright as more runes manifested around her.

In a few moments, Morgan felt all of her power slipping from her grasp, the Mana suppressing rune that had formed on her left arm quickly stripping the Fae Queen of access to her magic.

Oberon-Vortigern, meanwhile, was surrounded by Carnwennan's crystal javelins, with Marmyadose pointed squarely in his face.

"So, which is it then?" Artoria Avalon asked, waves of power rolling off her as she prepared to go forward with her planned sanctions, should they be necessary.

"I...I suppose I can let this incident slide, just this once." Morgan managed to reply, having to force the words out while burning with anger and humiliation at being forced into relenting like this.

At least she could take comfort in the bug being in the same boat as her.

"I'm not apologising when it wasn't my-" Oberon-Vortigern began.

"Hmmm? So, you're not going to take responsibility for antagonising Morgan further?" Artoria Avalon cut him off, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Marmyadose swung around in a blinding flash, placing itself inches from the Pretender's throat.

"You know...this isn't the first time you've caused trouble for Chaldea. In fact, there've been a few dozen complaints about you thus far, if I recall right. Antagonizing fellow Servants and talking down to the staff members, even when they're just trying to help you. Such a disruptive presence reminds me an awful lot of Merlin…"

Marmyadose inched closer as the Caster's eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps a beheading or two will help calm you down, hmm?"

Morgan's previous anger began melting away, replaced by a mounting sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing her successor crush the Pretender under her heel. She could suffer through a little bit of humiliation if the reward was watching that fool DIE!

Yes...go on, behead that worthless scum.

"I...I GUESS I can just...f-f-forgive and...f-f-forget." Oberon-Vortigern had even more trouble with his apology than Morgan did, sounding as if he was gagging on the words.

With a snap of the Caster's fingers, the immobilisation and levitation magic was cancelled, while Carnwennan's javelins returned to Artoria Avalon's side...though the sealing spell remained in effect.

"Thank you. Now then, perhaps a nice handshake before you both go on your way? As a sign that you'll try to get along from now on."

"I'm not going to shake hands with this repulsive old ha-"

"HMMM?" Artoria Avalon interrupted, aiming Marmyadose at Oberon-Vortigern again.

"Fine." The Pretender grumbled, holding out his hand.

Morgan made to hold out her free hand as well...only to hesitate, her breath hitching and pupils shrinking, in a minor panic as she realised that it was his insect hand he was holding out.

His disgusting, chitin-covered, monstrous hand.

"Well? C'mon now, gotta do as the little lady says if we want to walk away, don't we?" Far from being upset, Oberon-Vortigern now sounded quite...pleased.

Actually no, he didn't sound pleased, he sounded SMUG.

One look at his face confirmed to Morgan that yes, he looked as smug as he sounded, that shit-eating grin of his firmly back in place.

He must've noticed her hesitating...that bastard bug.

"Is there a problem, Morgan?" Her successor asked.

"No problem whatsoever." She snapped back, holding out her hand. "Let's just get this farce over with so we can all go our separate ways, shall we?"

"Fine by me." Oberon-Vortigern replied, grasping her hand.

Morgan tried not to shiver as his cold, hard fingers clamped around hers.

And then she tried not to look too outwardly enraged as she spied his smug grin widening.

Of course, there was something she could do to get back at him, if she recalled their parameters right…

Meeting his gaze with one of her own, Morgan began steadily tightening her grip on Oberon-Vortigern's hand.

To his (ugh) credit, the bug didn't back down, showing almost no visible reaction despite the force the Berserker was exerting on his hand. In fact, and to her extreme irritation, he started squeezing her hand right back!

You filthy insect! How DARE you try to match your superior like this!

Incensed, Morgan reflectively tried applying a strength enhancement rune, cursed under her breath when she remembered the magic sealing spell was still active, then simply squeezed Oberon-Vortigern's hand even harder, glaring right into his eyes.

As the duo kept up their struggle, Morgan barely suppressed a snarl of anger at this fool's efforts to resist her. The Berserker kept on squeezing, determined to make her enemy crack first…

"You know, typically you're supposed to shake each other's hands, not try to crush them." Artoria Avalon cut in, exasperation in her voice and a stern glare in her eyes. "Do you want to be reported for breaking the rules?"

"Of course not."

"Ugh, no."

Hurriedly, Morgan and Oberon-Vortigern stopped squeezing and began rapidly shaking each others' hands up and down, in perhaps the most robotic fashion possible, keeping their expressions as neutral as possible just to avoid more trouble.

"Well done, you can let go now, if you like."

Their hands flew apart immediately, with Oberon-Vortigern wiping his hand on his cloak with disgusted gagging noises, while Morgan held out her hand to Marmyadose.

"Heat up your blade or release your magic sealing rune, my successor. I need to disinfect this hand of bug filth somehow."

"Oh, charming! Am I made of dung to you, old hag?!" The Pretender snarled.

"No...after all, that would be an insult to dung itself, and I would never levy such an insult." Morgan snapped back.

Before either of them could move, Marmyadose swung down between them.

"Alright, I think it would be best if one or both of you simply left. Right now, if you please." Artoria Avalon glanced from one to the other.

After a few moments more of angry glares, Oberon-Vortigern turned on his heel and began stomping away, muttering about how annoying and unpleasant everything was turning out to be.

However, as he neared the first fork in the corridor, he paused.

"Hey."

Morgan had just been turning and preparing to leave herself when the Pretender's call reached her ear.

"What? Care to insult me again and run?"

"...I didn't hate what you accomplished."

The words were quiet, but Morgan was still shaken by them, especially when Oberon-Vortigern turned to look at her and she could see the sincerity in his eyes for herself.

"...w-what? Explain yourself!" She demanded, confused.

"Our purposes made us enemies, and the kingdom you built was rotten and doomed...but when it comes to the storybook of our land, I didn't hate the pictures you drew in it...I didn't hate the story you told. It was a gift to be a part of it."

With that, he turned and stomped off down the left-leaning path, before Morgan could stop him.

Letting a very ragged breath rattle from her lips as she tried processing what had just occurred, Morgan chose to address Artoria Avalon.

"What are you doing out here, so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same question, you know."

"I couldn't sleep or concentrate on my work, so I decided to get some fresh air. Now, what about you?"

"I am part of the designated Servant patrols tonight, making sure that no infiltrators attempt to sneak in...or potential renegade Servants attempt to sneak out. Or, indeed, pick fights with each other in the hallways."

"It was that bug's fault." Morgan snapped. "Getting in my way and provoking me like that, what was he thinking!?"

"Of provoking you to violence, is what he was most likely thinking. We've had to deal with him before." Artoria Avalon admitted, looking slightly irritated at the memory of the Pretender's prior troublemaking antics.

"So he has been a consistent problem? Why not simply get rid of him?" Morgan asked.

"Because we see his antics for what they are; a coping mechanism. He lashes out like this as a way to deal with his irritation and anger over his failure."

"Failure? He fulfilled his purpose in destroying Fairy Britain, did he not? What does that bug have to be upset about?"

"He fulfilled HIS purpose, yes...but the purpose he inherited from the Fairy King's will, to destroy Panhuman History, was one he could not fulfil. Chaldea and I made sure of that." Artoria Avalon explained.

"And now he is here, forced to help the humanity he despises stamp out the stories he loves. Wouldn't you feel angry if you were stuck in that predicament?"

"I admit, perhaps I would. After all, I continue to curse Panhuman History, even now… but how do you know of this, my successor?"

"I remember my original self being told by Oberon of his love of stories in the Lostbelt. He said that he found every story valuable. And then, in that final confrontation within his Hollow Worm itself, I remember him telling this me of his true aim. It wasn't hard to piece together his true motive with all of that knowledge.

"And besides that, no matter how abrasive Oberon-Vortigern acts, he ever actually starts and fights himself. And since the other Servants are now wise to his attempts at rousing their anger, they simply ignore him if he tries anything. Until he actually instigates a fight outside of the simulator, he hasn't really broken any of the cardinal rules of Chaldea." Artoria Avalon said, shrugging to herself.

"I...I see. Well then, I shall take my leave. I have much to think about."

"Have a pleasant evening, and try to get a good night's rest."

"Th...thank you, I will."

With that, the two Avalon Le Fae parted ways.

As the Fae Caster rounded the corner, Morgan felt the slight pressure of the mana sealing spell disappear. Experimentally waving her fingers and visualising a simple rune in her mind, the Berserker was pleased to see it manifest in her hand. She could use magic again.

At that, she breathed a sigh of relief.

And then 5 to 10 seconds later, she punched the wall opposite her with her free hand.

Her whole body shaking as hot, angry breaths blew from her nostrils, Morgan set off at a purposeful stride, her blood boiling once again.

She'd been doing SO well...and then that bug had just HAD to turn up and ruin everything.

She should have crushed him before her successor had shown up, should have forced him into that miniature form of his and squashed him under her heel instead of responding to his taunts and provocations.

Now her mood was ruined, and she was quite thoroughly stressed just from speaking to him.

And how could she NOT be? The insect was a walking reminder of-

"Tonelico…"

Rapping at her skull with trembling knuckles and scraping her fingers through her hair, Morgan hissed and tried dispelling the invading thoughts...before she got lost in them again.

Just focus on the here and now, just…

"Focus on the Mors, soldiers of the Fang Clan! Lord Woodwose will deal with the Calamity behind them! Now hold your ground!"

"Th-there's so many of them…"

"One touch and it's all over-"

"I-I don't want to die here!"

"Why didn't we conscript more humans!? They can touch the Mors safely!"

"I-Is that the King of Mors?! He looks huge...how are we going to stop this!?"

"J-Just trust in Lord Woodwose everyone! If anyone can do it, our Clan leader can! The Queen gave him one of her strongest weapons!"

Chaos...the smell of burning forest...of ash...of magic...it was all coming back to her n-

No, no! No NO NO!

Desperate to stop the flashback before it could progress any further, Morgan rammed her head into the nearby wall.

Even as stars, bright spots and blotches of static exploded in her vision, the sight of that terrible battlefield gave way to the familiar image of a hallway of Chaldea.

Haaahh…

Alright, a change of plans was in order. Just continuing her walk would be futile at this point.

She needed a new outlet...something that could help her work off all this accumulated stress. Maybe that would help her.

Ah, of course!

Hadn't Baobhan Sith mentioned something about using the simulator for relieving her own stress through combat or recreating familiar environments, or something like that?

Well, it was something to try at least, right? It had worked for Baobhan Sith, apparently.

Certainly better than simply wandering Chaldea.

---

After a few mistaken passages and about 10 minutes of wandering, Morgan finally arrived in front of the doors to Chaldea's simulator.

Before entering, Morgan paused to think for a moment, pondering on what she should do to program in a scenario for her to...vent a little.

And then she realised that she'd forgotten to ask Baobhan Sith about how the simulator actually worked, and how one might input a new scenario.

Curses, I'm usually more prepared in advance than this. I'll simply have to explore the simulator's interior. Hopefully there will be some sort of control panel I can access.

With that in mind, Morgan thumbed the entry button on the door's keypad and stepped inside…

To be greeted by a positively hellish blizzard.

Quickly summoning combined thermal and barrier runes to create a sphere of warmth around herself, Morgan glanced at her surroundings, quite positively flabbergasted. She'd not been expecting the simulator to be in use already!

What in the blazes is going on here!?

She seemed to be in some sort of...frozen village, judging by the massive heaps of frost, frozen ground, ice-covered huts and near-constant snowfall. The entire landscape looked to be the same way, and the very air itself was bitingly cold...or at least, it had been before Morgan had cast her heat and barrier runes.

Even still, her breath was oh-so slightly visible in front of her mouth despite the magical heat. Morgan growled and shook her head, she needed to find some control console or other and soon. It would be irritating to put up with this sort of environment for a long while, after all.

The longer she had to put up with this, the more frustrated and angry she'd get, completely contrary to the reason she came here in the first place.

Trudging forward, Morgan conjured some light spheres around her to brighten the area, given how dark the simulated environment was, she would likely need them.

At least a dozen or so frozen huts passed her by, and then eventually the entire village after a few minutes. All without any sign of any sort of control panel. She was already getting impatient.

Brightening her light spheres, Morgan grew irritated and dismayed at the sight of at least four other ice-filled villages dotted about in the distance.

Curses...will I need to search THEM too to find the simulator controls!? I have no idea where they might be!

If she had to go through ALL of them just to turn off this simulation and substitute it with her own…

Well, she would most certainly be picking some sort of combat scenario. Preferably with simulants of that bug, Artoriaand her tainted variant as enemies, handicapped to the extreme. What better way to vent her frustrations than by squashing everyone who'd been getting on her nerves lately under her heel?

Yes, that was a good idea.

It was a rather slow journey to the second village, mostly because there was only so many times Morgan could survey the (admittedly quite breath-taking, in its own way) landscape and scenery before it became extremely repetitive.

From that point on, the only real distraction she had was to observe the constant snowfall, maybe try to pick out and follow the path of individual snowflakes as they twisted and careened to the ground.

Though that too eventually became rather repetitive, as there was really only so much snow to be looked at before it all began blending together into a single deluge of white, it was a much better distraction than turning her thoughts inward again.

She absolutely refused to have another 'episode'. Not here.

As she strode from house to house, looking for ANY indication of a control panel or some technological system that stuck out in the medieval-looking village huts, Morgan's irritation and frustration at her situation began reaching its breaking point.

There was nothing...absolutely NOTHING…

At this rate, she'd be searching for HOURS.

No. I REFUSE to waste that much time for this! There MUST be another way!

...perhaps she could break through the simulation somehow? But how strong a true sight spell would she ne-?

Hmm...she might not NEED that sort of spell. Brute force should work here, surely?

If enough damage was done to the simulated environment, the simulation might shut down and reveal the control mechanisms of the simulator itself, letting Morgan program in a new scenario.

Admittedly, there was no real basis for this reasoning, but Morgan was certainly willing to try it regardless. If it DID work, then she would be able to enjoy a simulation of her choosing. If it DIDN'T work...well, at least destroying the dreary landscape of this simulation would be somewhat cathartic for her.

Yes, that would do nicely.

Blowing a heavy breath out of her lips, Morgan raised her spear, pointed it at the nearest few huts, began summoning her runes and started walking backward to get to a safe distance.

Once she was far enough away, the Fairy Queen let loose.

Her runes erupted into a torrent of flames, magical energy beams and lightning bolts that rocketed towards the village huts. They, and the masses of ice and snow that surrounded them, quickly disintegrated under the combined assault of the Fairy Queen's Magecraft.

Turning her attention to the other, more distant villages, a gleeful smirk spread on Morgan's face as she manifested more runes, preparing to vent more of her built-up irritation on this wretched place.

The first other village fell swiftly enough, swallowed under a barrage of flames.

A minute after, the second village was crushed soon afterwards, with Morgan's gravity manipulation spells collapsing the huts into piles of densely packed rubble and ice.

A few minutes later, the third village disintegrated as the Fairy Queen's shadowy tendrils of dark magic erased all trace of it.

By now, Morgan's face was flushed and her blood was pumping through her veins, spurred on by the fresh influx of adrenaline that came as she drew on her magical talent to wipe out her frozen, desolate surroundings. Of course, there was no risk to doing this, as there was no one else to fight back against her. But still...it felt enough like a battle to get her riled up and engaged.

Yes, this was what she needed. A nice flex of her mystic muscles, so to speak. Good to keep her skills sharp and stave off boredom...and memories of the past.

Turning her attention to the final frozen village in her eyesight, Morgan prepared to blow it away with her spells…

Until the ground quaked and rumbled beneath her.

This time, her heart really DID skip a beat as the shockwave reverberated all around her, rattling her whole body as it passed under her feet.

What in the world…?

She was about to pass it off as some random occurrence...until another shockwave rippled across the landscape.

And, a few moments later, there was another.

Then another.

Was this environment programmed for earthquakes or something!?

What if it wasn't a natural phenomenon? What if there was something coming?

Quickly, she activated a tracking spell, scanning for magical energy signatures.

...and immediately finding one, a very, very powerful one, not too far behind her...and getting nearer.

Whirling about, Morgan paused for a couple of seconds, spear raised.

Then she froze in shock, craning her neck back to fit the entirety of the newcomer into her vision.

Said newcomer being the utterly colossal Mammoth.

Its whole body was crackling with blue lightning and practically radiating magical energy, so much so that Morgan found herself staggering back at the waves of power that flowed off the almighty Phantasmal Beast before her.

In fact, in terms of raw power...this beast outclassed even HER, at least in her current state. Were she still living, she would have been able to equalise the power gap.

Morgan cursed her weak Saint Graph all over again.

W...what sort of creature is this!? How did it get here!?

Her mind was working a mile a minute, trying to figure out just what to do, as well as preparing her protection spells. After all, without the magical strength to use her Water Mirror, even at low power, Morgan was limited to moving away on foot.

With the sheer scale of that mammoth, there was no way she'd be able to outrun it. Perhaps if she applied enough enhancement and acceleration runes-

"Who are you?"

Eh?

Did that mammoth just…?

Well, it was a Phantasmal Beast, wasn't it? It stood to reason that it might be capable of human speech, especially a beast on the level of this mammoth.

"I ask again, who are you? Why are you destroying my simulation?" The mammoth rumbled, craning it's head down to look Morgan directly in the face.

HIS simulation? This beast programmed the simulator to produce this environment? Wait...this beast is a SERVANT!?

How was that possible!?

Ah, right. It's waiting for an answer from me, isn't it? Being prideful and demanding won't help here, I'd imagine.

Stepping forward and taking a moment or two to try and calm her racing heart, Morgan looked the mammoth in the eyes and began speaking.

"Greetings, Phantasmal Beast. I am Morgan, a new Servant in this Chaldea and former Lostbelt ruler, the Fairy Queen of Britain. I was unaware that there was anyone else occupying this simulator. I've been trying to find some sort of control mechanism to create a simulation for myself, and thought that damaging the simulation enough would reveal it to me. I meant no offence to you."

"Beast? I am no mere Phantasmal Beast." The mammoth replied.

Before Morgan could speak again, questioning what he meant, the Phantasmal's body began turning to ice, while the small streaks of lightning across its body intensified into large and bright bolts. A few moments after its entire form hardened into ice, the creature shattered apart into huge shards of ice as a large column of lightning streaked into the sky.

A couple of seconds later, the lightning column returned, slamming into the ground just a few feet away from Morgan. It was so bright that she was forced to close her eyes lest she go blind, and even then white spots exploded in her vision even beneath her eyelids, while also activating a couple of barrier spells to protect herself from any stray discharges.

As the light faded and her vision began to return, Morgan spotted that an absolutely towering figure had appeared from within the lightning bolt's strike zone, standing at thrice her height, clad in nothing but a crown and cape and wielding some kind of golden curved staff.

No. Not a mere 'figure'...this was a colossus of a man.

Or at least she assumed it was a man. The mammoth's voice had clearly been male, and this colossus had appeared from the same sort of lightning that had been saturating the Phantasmal's body. They must be related in some way.

Before Morgan could continue her train of thought, the colossus spoke.

"I am the first, and the mightiest, of the Yaga. I am the Lightning Tzar of Russia, Ivan the Terrible, and once the absolute ruler of my Lostbelt. Now then, fellow Lostbelt ruler...though I now know why you ruined my simulation, I must know, why are you here?"

"I...I am here because I could not sleep." Morgan admitted. "I know it may sound strange, but if you will bear with me, I will explain."

"It does not sound strange. In fact...it sounds quite familiar indeed. But regardless, continue." Ivan rumbled, stooping as best he could to try and sit down.

Even with Morgan casting a few spells to lighten the weight of his icy form, the Tzar STILL managed to crack the ground beneath him as he touched down.

"Blast it all! No matter how gentle my movements are, this form's bulk still proves unwieldy." Ivan grumbled, setting down his staff. "Now then, how did you come to be here?"

"Well, as I said, I couldn't sleep. I was having difficulty dealing with...some memories of my past. I was getting rather frustrated about it, because those sorts of memories have not been a problem for me for quite a long while. Not until I...until I came here.

"I decided to go for a walk, just to clear my head. And to get away from the madness of this place. I mean good lord, how many Artorias can Chaldea have!? It's as if they're actually trying to torment me!"

"I take it that the history between you two is unpleasant?" Ivan asked. "Forgive me, your history and the history of this 'Artoria' is rather unknown to me."

"Well, to be frank, it is not 'my' history with her. Rather, it is the history and memory of myself from Panhuman History. She gave me all of her memories to give my Lostbelt a fighting chance...and I suppose that since we are the same person, they blended in...a little too seamlessly." Morgan explained, sighing.

"To keep it as simple as possible, my other self and Artoria were siblings in the beginning, but they drifted apart when she, the younger sister, was chosen as heir to their father's throne over my counterpart, the older sister.

"My other self saw this as a great betrayal, especially since she inherited a Magecraft that effectively meant the throne was her birth right twice over. So she began to scheme. Scheme against her sibling.

"Whatever affection she had was soon buried beneath hate and envy. Though the affection was still there, it could not compare the intensity of my other self's anger and desire for the throne. Eventually, by the time Artoria was finally overthrown, it was all but snuffed out.

"And since she was filled with hatred and envy by the end...the emotional imprints were strong indeed on the memories that I received."

"So, despite you never meeting her, you now despise this 'Artoria' woman as if you did?"

"Yes. I...I understand that I have no reason to hate her, intellectually at least. After all, it was not her fault that King Uther chose her over the Morgan of Pan-History. But emotionally...I cannot help but want to oppose her. Her presence, her attitude, her...her nature as a person and a ruler, it is anathema to me now, and so I cannot help but despise her."

"I see." Ivan muttered. "But back to the topic at hand. I can understand your need for solitude. After all, we should not be here in this place, alongside these figures. I believe it was inevitable for us to feel out of place."

"I...I'd not quite thought of it that way, Lightning Tzar. Anyway, let me continue.

"I thought that some solitude and physical activity would ease my stress and worries, so that I might be able to sleep, but it didn't quite work...especially after I ran into that shitty bug."

"Hmm?"

"Someone from my Lostbelt. A slimy underhanded filthy manipulative liar that dared to destabilise my rule and destroy everything I'd worked so hard to achieve!" Morgan snarled, clutching at her staff as she stabbed it into the ground beneath her feet, imagining Oberon-Vortigern's smug face in place of the hard dirt.

"Seeing him again, having to speak to him again...I did not like it. Not one bit. And as you can imagine, it did not do wonders for my attempts to calm down."

"Indeed, you are very tightly wound right now." Ivan observed.

"That sort of fury...it reminds me all too well of my own temper, especially when I heard that usurper say that I was no longer needed in Russia...the NERVE of that предатель! How DARE she say that Russia no longer needs me, I AM RUSSIA!"

Ivan's roar was punctuated by streaks of lightning saturating the ground around them as the colossus slammed his mighty staff in the frozen ground, causing Morgan to jump in shock at just how quickly he'd gotten so worked up, especially when a few of the lesser bolts impacted her magical barriers.

The lightning barrage continued for at least a full minute as Ivan continued growling and snarling at the 'injustice' of being usurped, forcing Morgan to reinforce her barriers when his bright blue tusks began to discharge yet more lightning to join the existing storm.

Morgan was tempted to call out to him, or even cast a debilitation or calming spell on him to soothe the man's rage by force, but decided against it. After all, she doubted that he'd like having his mind altered when he was already angry, and she didn't want to take the risk that he was immune to any mental interference when she was so close to him.

Right now, his fury was unfocused and he was simply lashing out blindly. If he turned his wrath directly on her…

Fortunately, she didn't need to protect herself for long. Eventually, the lightning storm began to peter out as Ivan himself wound down, finally getting himself back under control.

Looking down at his hands, then at the scorched, scarred ice surrounding him, Ivan let out a shaky breath and brought his free hand to his face.

Well, what passed for his face, anyway.

"My...my deepest apologies, Miss Morgan. I...I have been trying to control my temper better in the solitude of this simulated environment, but it seems I still have quite a way to go."

"No apology necessary, Tzar Ivan, there was no harm done." Morgan soothed. "However, it seems as if you and I are both quite 'tightly wound' right now. I don't foresee us having a pleasant night or day of it tomorrow...and I fear that simple solitude will not be the answer to this particular problem."

"I find I must agree." Ivan admitted, as the colossus laid his staff back down and brought a hand up to stroke his icy chin. "I would rather this not interfere with my duties tomorrow if I am called by our Master to serve in his expedition party, but if I cannot control my temper even now...I might harm our allies needlessly if my rage blinds me."

"Hmmm...perhaps there might be a solution here. In fact, I was hoping to try it myself before I was...side-tracked by this environment."

"Yes?"

"My daughter Baobhan Sith told me that the simulator is good for "blowing off steam" in her words, thanks to it being able to create simulacrums for the user to fight. Apparently combat can be...quite helpful when it comes to relieving stress and pent up anger." Morgan explained.

"And I must admit, I agree with her assessment. After all, I could feel my worries melt away when I was, ah...tearing down your simulated villages." A slight pink hue crept onto the Fae Queen's cheeks as she recalled destroying her fellow Lostbelt ruler's simulation. That might have been her finest moment.

However, much to her relief, Ivan merely laughed good-humouredly.

"Not to worry, Fairy Queen, there is no long term harm done! Besides, as you said, you did not know this was my simulation beforehand, so why would I lay blame at your feet for an honest misunderstanding?"

"Thank you, Lightning Tzar. Now then, what sort of fight do you think would be good to help us both de-stress?"

"How about a spar between ourselves?"

Morgan glanced at the Rider, then back down at the ground, clearly a little thrown by his suggestion. She'd not actually sparred with anyone else in such a very long time. The last time she could remember doing so was…

"Hah, come on Tonelico, let's try that again!"

"This isn't fair, Ector! You're much bigger than I am! Plus, I've got magic anyway, I'll be fine!"

"Having magic doesn't make you invincible, girl, you need at least some close combat skill as a fallback. And besides, when I'm done training you, size won't be an issue. I'll teach you how to cut down the tallest Fang Clan Fae there is with naught but this dagger right here, just trust in old Ector!"

"Uwaaahh...Haaaaabetrooooot, help me out heeeere!"

"Nya, sorry Tonelico, I think this'll be a good skill for the saviour to learn! But don't worry, your Habenyan's got her healing magic ready to go if you need it!"

"You guuuuys, stooooop! This isn't faaaaaiir!"

In the end, she'd wound up relying on that close combat skill quite a lot. Especially when it came to butchering the ungrateful, selfish scumthat had poisoned her Round Table.

Flaying them alive or crushing all their bones with magic just didn't quite compare to the catharsis of paralysing them with nerve strikes and then forcing them to watch her kill off their 'families'. Or of skilfully opening each and every vein in their arms with a few swipes of her blade and watching them bleed to death up close and personal.

She knew Ector would've never approved of her use of the skills he imparted to her...but what he hadn't known about couldn't hurt him.

"Miss Morgan?" Ivan's voice snapped Morgan back to the present, causing her to jolt in surprise.

"A-Ah...my apologies, Tzar. I was simply lost in thought for a moment. A spar sounds like quite the novel idea...and please, since we are equals in a sense, just 'Morgan' will suffice."

...why am I being so open about this?

I don't think I've invited anyone else to address me so informally before, have I?

Perhaps...is it a sense of camaraderie? I certainly feel like I can relate to this man, even beyond our superficial occupations and statuses.

Well, something to think about for a little later. Right now, there is a spar to arrange.

"Splendid, and you are free to simply call me Ivan, if you so choose. As you said, we are equals as fellow Lostbelt rulers." The colossus rumbled, moving to try and lever himself up.

"Here, let me help." With a wave of her hand, Morgan conjured an anti-gravity rune that levitated Ivan a half-foot off the ground, allowing him to easily find his footing before she dispelled it, setting him back on the ground.

"Ah, you have my thanks. Now then, should we lay down some rules for the spar? Given what I've heard of your capabilities, and what I know of my own, a set of rules for proper control would be best to minimize collateral damage that we might cause through...excessive force."

"Yes, I quite agree, though I am adept at controlling my own magical output, I fear that you might have a difficult time keeping your attacks to non-lethal levels of power." Morgan admitted. "Especially with the...less than impressive durability of my Saint Graph."

"I see. I see. I will try to restrain myself, then. However, don't be afraid of unleashing more of your power if that is what helps you feel more at ease, I am quite glad to be of help." Ivan insisted.

"An offer of help from one Lostbelt ruler to another? I would never have imagined that happening, much less to me." Morgan chuckled to herself. "However, I should warn you...my Magecraft is peerless in potency, are you sure you want to expose yourself to even the middle limits of my ability? I can't guarantee you'll not need medical attention afterwards."

"As long as you can avoid my crown, my body will be fine." Ivan thumped his chest with an icy fist.

"This form of mine is what that Golem enthusiast calls a "Prime One", an apex being from a time before humanity itself! There is very little that can pierce this ice! As for my crown...it is all that remains of my true self, my one remaining link to humanity. As such, it is the one true vulnerability of this inhuman body. Rest assured Morgan, as long as my crown is untouched, I will be just fine."

"Very well, I will trust in your self-assessment, Ivan. Now then, the rules?"

"Yes. Hmm…" Ivan hummed, stroking at the ice that passed for his chin. "How about this? No potential instant kill spells or attacks. You will refrain from targeting my crown and I will refrain from direct attacks against your body, instead I will aim for your barriers themselves, so that you can still test their strength. If your barriers collapse, or either of us should call an end to the spar, then it shall stop immediately. Finally, neither of us shall release our Noble Phantasms without warning and approval from the other. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, that sounds agreeable."

"Excellent. Well, I will take up my position now. Get yourself ready, we will begin on your signal."

Morgan picked herself up off the floor and began activating her runes experimentally, tattooing them onto her exposed skin for easier access while she recalled some of her best debilitating curses.

Ivan, meanwhile, simply teleported about twenty feet away on a mighty bolt of lightning. Planting his feet, thumping his staff and sending more lightning across his colossal form, the Tzar offered his fellow monarch a nod.

"I am prepared, Fairy Queen. Begin whenever you like!" He boomed, bracing himself.

Placing just a few more runes on her bare midriff, Morgan readied her staff and took position.

"Very well then...BEGIN!"

Immediately, Morgan opened with a volley of two dozen blue-black spears manifested from dark magic. They rocketed towards Ivan, who retaliated with a mighty beam of lightning from the bright orb inside his staff. Even with Morgan manipulating their flight path, most of the spears were shot down by her fellow Lostbelt ruler, leaving only a meagre five to impact against Ivan's chest.

"HUUUUURRAAA!" Ivan bellowed as he counterattacked, firing off several more beams of lightning in tandem with thumping his staff against the ground. Fortunately, most of the beams were absorbed by Morgan's magic barriers, the rest of them she was able to avoid by leaping to the side repeatedly. Ordinarily, she would have eschewed such a needlessly 'flashy' means of avoiding attacks...but this was a friendly, non-lethal sparring session with a peer of sorts, and there were no bugs or Artorias to interfere or see her, so the Fae Queen felt it was alright to let loose a bit.

Thinking back, Morgan remembered her earlier years with Baobhan Sith, just after adoption, when the girl had still been so sweet and eager to help. Specifically, she remembered that she'd been able to introduce the concept of 'violence' and 'villainy' to her in the form of a childish game. She'd played the villain, in a deliberately over-the-top fashion to keep her daughter entertained and focused, and then had Baobhan replicate her behaviour. All in all, it had been a good starting point in their lessons.

Those years, and those lesions, had also been among the happiest in her life.

And there had been a part of her that had wanted to return to those years. To those simple, pleasant little games with her pleasant little girl.

They'd been quite the wonderful way to vent her worries, frustrations and anger, as she recalled.

Alas, the pressures of her rule and the passage of time were not so kind to her, especially as years, then decades, passed and Baobhan Sith began internalizing what Morgan was trying to teach her. As she began learning to be cruel. Those games had not been enough for her before too long...not enough to sate her growing bloodlust and desire for vengeance against the Fae that rejected her for being a blood drinker.

The day that Baobhan had insisted that the games stop, because they were "too childish for proper grown ups", had been quite the heart-breaking day for Morgan. She felt as if she'd lost something.

Perhaps...surely it wouldn't be so bad to indulge in that desire here? The Lighting Tzar seemed trustworthy enough, he would keep quiet...right?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Hmph, not bad, I suppose...but what about this?"

Shifting her spear into a copy of Excalibur Morgan, and stifling a shiver of disgust at the memory of that tainted Artoria and her sharp tongue, Morgan sent a wave of black fire at Ivan. Instead of trying to teleport away to avoid it, the Rider simply took one heavy step forward to take the attack head on.

While he was engulfed by the dark flames, Morgan followed up with a volley of bright orbs that exploded against Ivan's limbs, and then a light-based facsimile of Rhongomyniad that she fired right at his chest. It was obviously nothing compared to the real Holy Lance, but in this weakened body it was the best she could manage. Well, outside of her Noble Phantasm of course.

Rather impressively, despite the force and power behind her facsimile as it exploded against the Tzar's chest, Ivan not only stood his ground, but did so with nary a scratch that Morgan could see.

He really wasn't exaggerating about that form of his, was he?

"Hmph, that was not too bad...now for my true answer!" Ivan thundered, cottoning onto her attitude and deciding to emulate it himself.

Raising his left leg and charging it with his lightning, Ivan slammed it into the earth.

Morgan was quite stunned to see just how deep the gash it tore through the ground was...and just how quickly it was heading towards her, crackling with blasts of electricity all the way.

This time, she really did need to throw herself sideways to avoid the attack and even then, she could feel the slight wear on her magical barriers as Ivan's flame-esque lightning lapped at them.

Not giving his opponent time to breath, Ivan immediately raised his staff to fire off a few more lightning beams, before following up with a barrage of light beams from the bright crystal in his chest.

Morgan's mystic barriers flashed again and again as Ivan's attacks reached them. A brief burst of surprise, accompanied by a bit of respect at her peer's might, surged through her as she noticed two of the left side barriers dimming, forcing her to channel more mana to the associated runes to reinforce them.

As Ivan continued to pummel at her defenses with lightning blasts, Morgan reversed her grip on her spear, charged it with mana and a tracking charm, then flung it as hard as possible in Ivan's general direction.

"Feel the might of my spear!"

It might have sounded a little cheesy, and not at all like the Fairy Queen of Britain, but Morgan was so caught up in the exhilaration of a spar against one of her fellow Lostbelt rulers that she decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Hah, this pitiful weapon is nothing against the power of the Tzar!"

Fortunately, it seemed Ivan was similarly ensnared by the atmosphere.

Despite Morgan's spear zipping past him and dragging its now-serrated sides along his icy skin again and again, releasing explosions of magical power every time, Ivan advanced undeterred. As Morgan finally managed to recover, he dispatched his trunks as electrically charged tentacles for another go at piercing through her barriers.

Morgan knocked one of them off course with a strategically manifested burst of wind, while the other one was forced to retreat back to Ivan as the Fae Queen launched some dark magic spears at it. As a follow up, she began throwing more spears at Ivan, hoping to at least slow him down a little.

"You've tried this tactic already, my dear, and it failed you before!" Ivan gloated as he stomped unflinchingly through the repeated spear impacts, though his tone betrayed his lack of real malice.

"Oho? Quite bold of you to think that that is the only tactic I have in play right now, is it not?" Morgan shot back, a similarly playful smile formal on her face. Though it felt rather alien to her, as the Fae Queen could not remember the last time she had smiled so freely, she made no attempt to control her expression.

After all, it felt nice to smile.

"And what could you possibly have that could match m-" Ivan began, only to stop as he put his right foot forward.

...and brought it down onto something quite alarmingly warm.

"What?" He muttered, looking down.

Just as the gravity rune he'd stepped on began to light up.

"HRRRGGHHKKK!" Ivan yelled out as the gravitational pull on his already incredible mass was increased fivefold. Miraculously, he managed to stop himself before he hit the ground entirely, but he was trapped on all fours, shaking as his immense strength clashed with gravity's pull.

"You fool! You've fallen right into my trap! Ooooh-hohohoho!"

Deep in her mindscape, the long-suppressed childish aspect of Morgan was dancing a merry jig, thoroughly elated at having achieved one of her greatest dreams and copying that 'posh woman' laughter for herself….while her more 'regal' aspect had her head in her hands, rather embarrassed at seeing herself acting like this.

"Hrrrggh...I am not...finished...just YET!" Ivan rasped out, managing to raise his head in Morgan's direction.

Ivan's tusks began to crackle with lightning, glowing brightly as he channelled more and more power through them. Before long a dark blue sphere, filled with lightning streaks, began to form between his tusks.

"Hmph. This is your final gambit, is it? Very well!"

Unfortunately, her (admittedly inflated for the sake of 'fun') confidence began to wane as the large sphere grew larger still, with Ivan channelling more and more power into it, until it was roughly the size of Ivan himself, just barely contained by his horns...it looked to be a full ten feet wide!

Morgan reinforced her barriers again, just in case.

Ivan launched the energy sphere at her with a yell of exertion.

Deciding not to take the risk of seeing whether her barriers could withstand an attack like that, Morgan manipulated the air currents around her, condensing the winds into a tightly compressed sphere of her own in her free hand.

Pointing it off to her left, Morgan released the compressed air as Ivan's lightning sphere bore down on her.

A loud bang reverberated through the icy landscape as the Berserker was flung violently to the right, followed swiftly by a cacophonous crashing sound as Ivan's attack detonated against the ground Morgan was just occupying.

She was forced to shield her eyes once more as the sphere broke open and released both the lightning streaks and magical energy poured into the attack. The surrounding area was violently scorched, with deep gashes being cut by the lightning bolts into the ice covering the ground. Meanwhile, the ten foot area directly within the sphere's blast radius was completely cleared of ice and the ground beneath it was blackened and charred.

Internally, Morgan was quite glad she'd avoided her peer's attack. Even the individual lightning streaks had been surprisingly damaging to her barriers.

"A valiant effort, Tzar, but not quite good enough to best me!"

Acting quickly before her opponent could recover, the Fae Queen manifested yet more gravity runes underneath Ivan's bulk, but this time keying both them and her original rune to reverse gravity.

For a brief moment, Ivan actually managed to struggle up as gravity lost its effect on him...and was then thrown into the air as the runes' gravity inversion took effect. Morgan waited until Ivan was a few dozen feet in the sky, then deactivated her runes and summoned a Rhongomyniad facsimile above him, intending to fire in at him while he was still dazed from the impact with the ground.

"Hah, even now...I still have one more ace up my sleeve."

However, before she could fully put her plan into action or comprehend what he meant, Ivan vanished in a bolt of lightning.

No. Not just vanished...teleported away.

The flash of blue light from behind her, followed by a loud crackling sound, was all the warning Morgan got.

Rapidly tapping the acceleration and enhancement runes on her legs, Morgan took off at a full sprint, trying to get as far away as possible. Looking back, her heart leapt into her mouth as she caught sight of Ivan falling quite swiftly indeed, just a few feet behind where she'd been standing.

Morgan cleared about two hundred metres before the Tzar met the frozen ground.

A cacophony of sound reached Morgan's ears, the ice rending and buckling and shattering as the ferocious shockwaves from the impact of Ivan's immense weight rippled outwards. Frantically, the Fae Queen manifested ribbons of dark energy that wrapped around her limbs and then ploughed into the icy ground, attempting to anchor herself.

It wasn't nearly enough.

When the shockwaves caught up to her, Morgan was launched into the skies as the large chunk of ice beneath her was violently jerked upwards, the spreading spider web of deep cracks cutting it loose from the whole.

Before she could react, her barriers took a large hit from a half dozen lightning blasts, Ivan having recovered just enough to launch them at his fellow Lostbelt ruler via his staff, the force of the hits sending her flying through the air.

Eventually, she hit the ground, while spots and static exploding in her vision as her head smacked against the ice. Rolling for a few moments, she eventually came to a halt.

Breathing steadily, trying to calm her thundering heart and blinking rapidly to try and dispel the interference in her vision, Morgan slowly and shakily pushed herself up. Though she was a little winded from being violently battered about, she was by no means tired, nor were her magical barriers especially damaged.

Glancing over, Morgan noticed Ivan had struggled up into a sitting position in the meantime. Locking her gaze with that of her fellow Lostbelt ruler, Morgan paused for a few moments...then slowly held up her hand.

"I believe I had had just about enough exhilaration for one day, Ivan." She called, enhancing her vocal chords with a rune just to make sure her voice reached the Rider clearly. "However, there is just one more thing I would like to try before we end the spar, if you are alright with that?"

"I see no problem with that, I still have plenty of energy left!" The Tzar assured her. "What did you have in mind?"

"I wondered if I might be able to use my Noble Phantasm on your mammoth form. Admittedly, it might be a little risky for you to take that much power head on, even in your apex form, but-"

Ivan held up a hand to interrupt her.

"As long as my crown is protected, then I will endure just fine!"

"Well then, perhaps I should look after it, just in case?"

Ivan replied by removing his crown and launching it all the way across the distance between them, the object coming to rest at Morgan's feet.

Hmmm, quite the throw.

Gingerly carving a barrier rune into the ground upon which the crown rested and activating it, Morgan watched as it was surrounded by a bright blue dome of protective energy. Satisfied that it was secure, Morgan got up, shook her head, and began to prepare herself.

Ivan, meanwhile, began his chant.

"My march will continue for eternity."

As he spoke, his lower legs began to warp and twist, extending and bloating into a very large shape. Ivan was raised higher and higher as a beastly form began to take shape beneath him, accompanied by a blizzard of ice and storm of lightning manifesting around the Tzar. Soon, Morgan's view of him was completely obscured.

"God's beast crushes all underfoot."

A mighty, colossal paw emerged from the maelstrom. Followed by another. Then a huge trunk, topped by a bony tooth, and a pair of thick tusks joined them as the maelstrom began to fade.

"Zveri Krestnyi Khod!"

By the time Morgan's view was unobstructed once more, the Phantasmal mammoth had manifested again. This time, since she knew what to look for, she could just make out Ivan's ice colossus form protruding from the back of his beast.

So...it is not just his mount, then. He IS the beast itself...perhaps I should introduce him to Melusine, she too can transform into a Phantasmal Beast of sorts.

"Whenever you are ready then, Fairy Queen!" Ivan rumbled.

"Very well!"

Planting her staff, Morgan began her own chant.

"It is a dream of destruction that I've always seen. There is no destruction and there is no salvation."

Leaning back, Morgan found the familiar marble of her throne once more.

That familiar cobbled path had manifested in front of her, leading to Ivan's form.

"At the farthest ends, the birds shall surely extol tomorrow."

The skies above brightened with pale blue light...and then the crystalline spears of magic began to rain down.

The final few pairs pieced directly into the bulk of Ivan's mammoth. To his credit, the Tzar did not cry out or flinch from the impacts.

"Please, guide me."

The sky grew brighter still.

"Roadless Camelot!"

The now familiar bright swirl of faint blue magic rocketed down as the heavens opened up, the energy strike being large enough to strike almost the whole of the back of Ivan's mammoth, with the Tzar himself being almost completely subsumed in its light.

"GRAAAHHHH!"

Eventually, the light began to fade along with Morgan's throne, prompting the Fae Queen to stand up and wait, just to see the result.

Good lord…

The mammoth was battered from the Noble Phantasm's assault, with multiple blood holes in its fur from the giant spears and most of its back charred from the energy discharge, but it was still standing. As was Ivan, the Tzar himself 'standing' proud atop his mammoth form.

Soon, the beast began to dissolve into magical ether and icy flakes, lowering Ivan back down to Morgan's level as she scooped up his crown and began approaching. In a matter of moments, the mammoth had vanished entirely and Ivan stomped the last few steps to meet his approaching peer.

"Hah...I can't remember having taken a hit like that since...since I had to fight that great Golem and my beast's trunk was cut off by that samurai woman."

"Well, I'm pleased to see that you are still standing. Here." Morgan handed Ivan back his crown. "Hah...I feel quite thoroughly refreshed now. Nothing like a good exercise to clear the mind of worries, though I can't help but feel as if I acted a little too...childishly."

Despite her slight blush of embarrassment, Ivan belted out a hearty laugh and waved dismissively.

"Bah! Acting like an adult all of the time is taxing on the mind, returning to one's childhood from time is harmless. Besides, we are no longer occupied by our responsibilities to our Lostbelts, and our Master is not the type to object to this manner of stress relief. He is far too kind to stifle this sort of childlike fun, even among adults."

"Perhaps you're right about that. That said, I hope that what happened here can stay between us?"

"Yes, yes. Of course, Lady Morgan."

"Thank you, Ivan."

The Tzar shifted a little.

"Well, you might have found the relaxation you wanted here, but might I invite you to stay a while longer for a talk? You seem as if you could benefit from it." Ivan offered.

"Hmmm? Why would you say that?" Morgan asked.

"It's just...when I look at your eyes, I still see you carrying regrets with you, or perhaps...some lingering resentments. I cannot be sure which."

"I…" Morgan hemmed and hawed for a few moments, grasping for words, before she simply sighed and lowered her head in defeat.

"You know, you are probably the first person to notice that about me." She admitted. "I wonder why that is."

"Perhaps it is because we are alike. Or at least, I feel that we are."

"I must admit, I feel the same way. Colour me curious."

"Well then, I suppose you will be staying for that talk after all?" Ivan asked.

"Yes, I believe I will." Morgan nodded. "If you don't mind?"

"Not at all. I did offer."

Ivan slowly levered himself into a sitting position, while Morgan cleared out a small patch of the ground for herself with a few heat and flame runes to thaw the ice, while maintaining her previous thermal bubble. The duo set their staff and spear down on the ground beside them. Once Morgan was sure she was comfortable, she looked at Ivan and nodded.

"Alright then, I am ready. So, where shall we begin?" She asked.

"This may seem a little blunt of me, tact is not my strong suit, but here we are...let's start with why your Lostbelt collapsed and we can go from there."

Morgan hesitated for a moment. Delving back into memories of her rule was something she'd been rather dreading to do, especially given how much pain she'd gone through, both before and during her time as queen.

Still, she would persevere. Perhaps talking with Ivan would help her. After all, confronting Baobhan Sith about her attitude problem had not been easy, but in the end she'd managed to put her daughter on the path to becoming the kinder and more gentle soul that would thrive much more easily in an environment like Chaldea.

What was that phrase she'd heard other Servants use before? "No pain, no gain", was that it?

Well, it seemed apt, regardless. The effort and emotional challenge of dredging up her old memories would surely be worth the help and support her fellow Lostbelt ruler might provide.

Taking a deep breath, she began speaking.

"Very well...from the reports in Chaldea that I was able to access, my Lostbelt was collapsed by the final two Calamities. I do not know the exact details, for I had already perished by the time Fairy Britain was destroyed. As for the circumstances of my death...I was betrayed."

"By whom?"

"By the same group of worthless, filthy, ambitious, backstabbing scum that ALWAYS wound up betraying me. The Fairy Clan heads, THAT is who betrayed me." Morgan spat, already feeling hot anger bubbling up inside her.

"I see...I see. So your subjects rebelled against you as well?" Ivan muttered.

"You dealt with rebellions against your rule too?" Morgan tilted her head in curiosity.

"Yes. A faction of rebels that detested my methods. Bah, a group of fools was what they were, the lot of them! Naive fools that could not possibly understand the necessity of my rule!" Ivan dug his left hand into the ground, already getting riled up himself.

"I was not the gentlest of rulers, I admit...but I kept Russia stable. MY order kept Russia ALIVE. It was at MY direction that the court mages fused our people with Demonic Beasts to begin with! Without ME, Russia would have surely collapsed under the ice age like the rest of the world! I did not act as I did to be cruel, but because I was kind! Because all I wanted was for my beloved citizens to survive!"

"I understand how you feel, Lightning Tzar. I too took on the burdens of a tyrant, and had I not...my Lostbelt would have been ground to dust by the time it reached the modern day. There would be nothing left without me and my rule." Morgan said, reaching for and gripping her staff, a dangerous glint in her cold blue eyes.

"I saw it. I saw it in the memories of myself from the Pan-History. And do you know what I saw?"

"What?"

"A wasteland. A barren, lifeless land. That was the future that awaited my Lostbelt had I not done what I did...all because my subjects slaughtered one another to extinction."

"By the grace of God…" Ivan breathed, quite thoroughly shocked. "What sort of hellscape were you born into that its people could butcher one another so freely and completely?"

"Tell me, Ivan, have you heard of the Fae?"

"I have heard only stories of them, but I have never met one in person. What stories I have heard...have not painted them in the best light." The colossus sighed. "I have heard that they are enigmatic tricksters that enjoy playing with humans as toys, that you can always trust a Fae to be self-centred...and beyond that, you cannot trust a word they say."

Morgan let loose a bark of mirthless laughter.

"Oh, my dear Tzar...they are so much worse than in your little tales.

"The Fae are, at their core, pure and innocent beings. What humans would call 'normal' morality is beyond their understanding in all but a handful of cases. They think nothing of doing as they please, whenever they please. If you stand in their way, they will tear you apart. If they find you mildly irritating, they will torment and tear you apart. If they require sustenance, they will tear you apart. If the mere fancy takes them, they will tear you apart.

"You cannot befriend them, you cannot reason with them. When you are kind to them, they do not see a friend to be made, they see a gullible fool ready for manipulation, a tool to advance their agenda.

"Each Fae is born with a purpose in their hearts. As long as they hold true to it, they will live forever...and their purity and innocence means that nothing is out of the question for them when it comes to fulfilling that purpose. No depravity is too much. Not betrayal is too sickening. After all, these actions are simply necessary for their survival, for them to continue to have 'fun', why should they feel bad about doing what they need to or want to do? In fact, why should they regret anything, ever?

"Oh they played at being civilised, oh how they tried...but in the end, they returned to their natural state, as cruel, selfish and ungrateful monsters. That is just how they are. Without a guiding hand, without my iron grip to bring them to heel, the whole race would be free to indulge in their base desires. Free to butcher each other over the most minor of sleights or the pettiest of reasons until there were none left. I had to put down so many wars...so many revolutions, all because I gave them the absolute ruler they truly needed, but did not want. I did what I did to help them survive, and yet they STILL rebelled against me, again and again and again."

"There will always be ungrateful whelps out there who can never appreciate what others have sacrificed for them." Ivan agreed. "You did as you had to, under the circumstances."

"I tried to be gentle, I truly did. I tried to show them kindness...but kindness is wasted on Fairies. They will never be swayed by a desire for the carrot, only by fear of the stick. So much time frittered away on diplomacy and such tripe as messages of unity, peace and affection."

A lifeless, broken laugh came from the Fae Queen, her blank eyes staring at nothing.

"And yet...do you want to know the funniest thing?"

"What would that be?" Ivan asked quietly, the colossus feeling naught but sympathy for his peer, simply waiting for her to speak again and get this off her chest.

"Despite knowing just what they were like...I still tried.

"I tried. I tried so very hard for so very long to fight against fate. To fight against the way of the world...to be their saviour."

"I-I had it all planned out, too. It was...w-was within my ability to do so, I was sure of it! After all, I already reincarnated my people once, when the Horned God first lashed out at them. If I could do it once, I could do it again!

"All I needed to do was wait for long enough...gather enough power...enough Holy Lances to do the job. All while enduring the constant scheming, backstabbing, manipulation and cruelty of the subjects I was working to save...and surviving the wrath of the very land I walked on.

"I was so weary...by the end. My body had persisted for two and half thousand years, my mind for even longer than that. After everything that I lived through, everything that I suffered through, all I had left to cling to was my dream...and my daughter."

Morgan's vision began to blur, while hot tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"But it would all be worth it in the end! I-If I could just...just defeat the Horned God...finish my greatest spell and overturn the world...it would all be worth it! My pain. My suffering. My losses. My sacrifices...all of them would be worth it if I could just last against Cernunnos and that disgusting bug.

"I c-could bring my subjects back, b-but this time...they would be free. Free from their purposes. Free from their so-called innocence and purity, free to understand humanity and able to live in peace with them. EVERYONE would be free...to be happy.

"I could finally...finally save them. Fae and humanity both...I could give everyone the happiness that I had as a child.

Despite her tears, Morgan still managed a smile. A trembling and heartbroken smile.

"But what did I end up with, after all of that? What was waiting for me at the end of my journey? Nothing."

And then the dam broke.

All of her pent up rage, sorrow and spite couldn't be held back anymore.

Her shattered smile twisting and warping into a furious snarl, hands clenched into fists and shaking with a combination of rage and sorrow, Morgan began to yell.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I SACRIFICED!? HOW MUCH I SUFFERED THROUGH TO GET SO FAR!?

"HOW MANY CHANCES FOR HAPPINESS I GAVE UP TO KEEP THAT WRETCHED, FILTHY SPECIES ALIVE!?"

"HOW COMPLETELY I WAS REJECTED, SIMPLY FOR BEING WHO I WAS!?"

Her throat already raw, the hysterical Fae Queen began to sob openly and beat at the ground as Ivan watched on, allowing her to vent as she pleased.

"They...they hated me. From the moment I left the Rain Clan and ventured out into the world, they hated me. Judged me. Condemned me as an abomination...solely because I came from Avalon. Because I was not born of their cursed home!

""Here comes the mighty saviour! Come to protect us, the wretched Fae!", that was what they yelled at me! "Hard to see us, isn't it, from your high perch?", that too!"

"And yet still...still...still, I insisted on trying to help them!

"I could have simply wiped them ALL out! BUTCHERED them to the very last! Then I could FINALLY be free of my duties! Free to build a GRATEFUL kingdom of human subjects, of subjects that would show me the gratitude and goodwill I DESERVED for going to such lengths!

"But NO! I just HAD to believe I could save them! I just HAD to give up centuries of MY life to try and help those fools! I just...I just had to take the hardest route through this life of mine, didn't I?

"Despite all the trials. All the losses. All those nights spent in tears after...after the coronation...I was this close. I was on the verge of making it all worthwhile! All of those sacrifices and all of that pain would finally MEAN SOMETHING.

"And then they came along. My successor and that filthy insect.

"More than two thousand years I'd spent building my plan. More than two thousand years of hatred. Of pain. Of one trial after another. Of endless...ENDLESS suffering. Of fighting and triumphing over every. Single. Thing. Rebellious Fae. Rebellious humans. Mors hordes. The Calamities awakening...the very land itself when it turned against me...even my successor and Chaldea, when they finally decided to confront me. I stopped them ALL.

"...and yet, despite all of those victories, I lost my world in moments. All of it. My power. My supporters. My kingdom. My daughter...and my life."

"All because I DARED to give in to that compassion, just one last time. Because I DARED to hope, to delude myself into thinking that that worm Spriggan would honour his end of the bargain: my throne for Baobhan Sith's life.

"But he didn't. He just...just threw her away like trash. Just like that, I was left with nothing at all."

For a brief moment, Morgan was still, her body still heaving and shivering from her anguish.

Then, as Ivan was about to move to comfort her, she spat out a gob of phlegm and exploded again.

"...and IT. IS. NOT. FAIR!"

Small explosions of flame, lightning, ice and shadow, timed with the thumping of her fist, began blossoming on the surrounding ice as Morgan began to beat the ground all over again, tears and snot dripping freely down her face.

It was quite the pathetic sight to see, but the Fae Queen was nowhere near concerned with her appearance at present, too engrossed in finally letting out all of her pent up rage and anguish.

"WHAT SORT OF UNJUST WORLD IS THIS THAT JUST THROWS AWAY THE HONEST EFFORTS OF THOSE LIKE ME!?

"Isn't hard work supposed to be REWARDED?! Isn't perseverance supposed to bring good fortune!? Isn't...isn't what I've been through worth SOMETHING!?

"I built the Fairy Kingdom! ME! I maintained it! I planned to defeat the Calamities and defend my world when NO ONE ELSE could! Not AVALON! Not GAIA! Not those PATHETIC Clan leaders or the first Fae! Not even FAE BRITAIN ITSELF! They all condemned my world to die and yet I kept it intact! I kept it ALIVE! I...I would have been...would have been able to…"

The fires of her rage finally weakening, Morgan flopped onto the ground, weakly clawing at the dirt.

"I would have been able to save it all...if I'd only been rewarded just one last time. If only I'd been given...a little more time. W-Was that truly t-too much to a-ask for?

"W-was my world truly so c-cursed that it could not grant me even a single boon?

"Was I...was I truly...destined to live...s-s-such a wretched life? C-chosen just to s-s-suffer?

"Or...or p-perhaps it is because I 'cheated', gained an 'unfair advantage' with these foreign memories of mine th-that I was not supposed to have. Does the world truly a-abhor a little outside help th-that much?

"Or...m-maybe I am s-simply paying for t-the sins of my counterpart. In taking on these memories, p-perhaps I also took on her karma as well.

"She caused so much destruction and death with her manipulations, after all. All of it motivated by naught but rage, envy and...petty spite. And yet there was little comeuppance to be had for any of it, once all was said and done. Perhaps it all, in the end, fell on me instead. If "Morgan Le Fay" could not be punished for her misdeeds...then "Fairy Queen Morgan" would take on the trials in her place.

"Is that it? Is that the root cause of my terrible fortune? Of the futility of my fight? The pointlessness of all my struggles?"

Morgan sniffled, as she finally settled down, her rage spent and unable to carry her any further.

"Whatever the reason...

"It's just...just not fair."

After a good minute and a half of silent, relentless sobbing, of crying until her throat hurt, her face and eyes felt swollen and her face was stained with phlegm trails, Morgan finally gained the will to gather herself again.

She started with wiping at her face, ferociously attempting to scrub away the remnants of her moment of weakness, even activating a heat rune on her hand at just the right temperature to burn away the phlegm and tears.

Ivan watched her silently, content to wait until his fellow was truly ready.

However, unbeknownst to Morgan, there was someone else observing both Lostbelt Kings.

The accidental eavesdropper had come to the simulator intending to train. To hone herself further. After all, she could not afford to fall behind or let her skills slack, especially with so many other Sabers in Chaldea.

However, by virtue of chance, she had happened to stumble across the finale of the spar between Morgan and Ivan...and had been curious enough to stay so that she could listen in on their conversation in the aftermath. It might be an invasion of privacy, but the opportunity to learn more about Morgan had been too interesting to pass up.

Her objective successful, the Servant began withdrawing from the simulated environment, with light footsteps and a new impression of Morgan in her mind.

Though he had the opportunity to reveal the third Servant's presence to Morgan, Ivan decided against it. After all, though they'd tried to hide themselves, he'd been able to get a good look at them beforehand. Given their identity, Ivan felt it best for the Servant to approach Morgan on her own terms, instead of the violent confrontation that would be inevitable if Morgan were to be made known of her presence and eavesdropping, especially now.

Yes, best to let this particular problem resolve itself.

"So, do you feel a little better now?" Ivan asked, noticing that Morgan was finally sitting upright, her expression now returned to its typical neutrality, though her breathing was still a tad erratic.

"I...yes. Just a little bit. I believe I needed that." Morgan admitted, blowing out a shaky breath as she stabilised properly. "I suppose now is the time for the speech?"

"Hmm?" The Tzar questioned, tilting his head.

"You know, where you advise me to move past my anger. That now is not the time to dwell on my past, and that I should put all of my energy into looking towards the future. That sort of naive, inspirational rubbi-"

"No. If anything, you are right to be angry."

"...eh?" For once, Morgan was rather thrown by Ivan's reply.

"Anger is a perfectly human response. A natural response. After all, I too was angry in the wake of my Lostbelt's destruction. Some days...I still am.

"I understand how you feel, Morgan. More so than most. To have worked so hard to stabilize your world. To try and take the terrible hand dealt to you by God and make something good and proper out of it, only to have your efforts be rendered meaningless in the end...it is only natural to mourn that loss. To grieve however you need to.

"After all, without an outlet, all you can do is bottle up those feelings inside. And that, especially when it comes to an excess of sadness and anger, can be the worst coping mechanism possible. I should know...that was why I allowed myself to slumber the first time, before that musician came along. I could not allow my temper to harm my citizens.

"So take heart. Your rage and sorrow are nothing to be ashamed of, but they are feelings that must be handled with care.

"If you must vent your anger, then do so. If words will suffice, then a sympathetic ear is the finest medicine. If, however, your anger can only be sated by more...physical means, then the simulator is where you must go. Getting lost in your rage upon the battlefield proper is the worst mistake either of us can make, especially if our Master is harmed in the process.

"If you do happen to stumble upon me like this again, then the offer for a spar will still stand. Though very few Heroic Spirits here may understand your plight or your troubles...I can promise you will find acceptance here, with one who has struggled as you have struggled to maintain his world."

"Thank you, Emperor Ivan. That is very reassuring indeed." Morgan said, offering a genuine smile to her fellow Lostbelt ruler. "I may just come to you again in the future."

"I am quite glad to hear that. Though if I might suggest a friendly ear outside of my own, I am sure that our Master would be more than willing to listen to your worries...after all, he is perhaps the only one who can understand how it feels to lose so much."

"...what do you mean by that?" Morgan was genuinely confused and curious.

Yes, she was aware that Ritsuka had been through quite the crushing set of trials on his journey through the Lostbelts, and had his own share of demons to deal with, even if he rarely showed it on the outside, but for Ivan to claim that he could understand their losses?

What had happened to him that Morgan was unaware of?

"Mmm, you've not been told or found out yet?" Ivan asked.

"No, I've not. Please elaborate."

"Very well."

Taking a moment to clear his 'throat', Ivan began again.

"As I learnt from some of our...longer-serving fellows, and Chaldea's own archives, this is not the first time our Master has been called on to save the world.

"He and the humans here once had to fight against another threat to their species. A threat known in the records as "The King of Demons"."

"'King of Demons'?" Morgan questioned. "I have never heard of such a threat before, not in my world, or even here. Where did it come from?"

"It was a creation of Solomon, the King of Israel and inventor of modern Magecraft. A creation of his that apparently deviated from his wishes after his death, took on his identity, his form and the majority of his powers, along with the combined wisdom and power of 72 entities known as 'Demon God Pillars' that were bound to this creation's will."

"To bind so many powerful entities like that…" Morgan raised an eyebrow and blew out a breath. "That is no small feat."

"That is because the King of Demons was, as I was told, a living spell. The very embodiment of the magical ritual used by the King of Mages to summon these 'Demon Pillars' and bind them to his will in the first place. As that inventor child and the Queen of Sheba explained it to me, this being was the magical equivalent of modern day technological entities known as 'artificial intelligences', a form of…"software" if you will. Do you...are you understanding this?"

"I...I believe so, yes."

"Well, that makes one of us." Ivan muttered, dryly.

"Don't worry, if you want a more simplified explanation, I'm sure I can instruct you well enough once I am properly informed myself." Morgan offered, feeling a teasing mood come over her at her peer's (and dare she say it...friend's?) struggle to understand the advanced magical concepts that he was relating to her.

After everything that had just happened, Morgan felt like she needed a laugh. Just for a moment.

"Well then, please continue. Specifically, where does our Master come in?"

"Yes, of course. I once asked our Master a little bit about this personally, and he explained his role to me.

"He was the newest, last-minute arrival to Chaldea. A new recruit with barely any practical experience. Nevertheless, he was forced into the role of a Master when Chaldea itself was sabotaged from within. Apparently, one of the higher level staff members was a Demon God Pillar in disguise, the one known as "Flauros" had inserted himself into the traitor's body and used him to bomb the primary control room, leaving almost every other Master candidate in severe condition.

"And thus, the boy was forced to accomplish the mission of saving humanity from this threat in their place. To overcome a great many trials in the name of saving his world.

"He said that there were seven of these 'Singularities', key dates in history that the King of Demons and his agents interfered with, that needed to be resolved. The odds were against our Master almost every time, and yet he still prevailed.

"I can only imagine the horrors he experienced within those Singularities, especially when it came to those abominations he called 'Lahmu'." The Tzar made no attempt to hide his disgust at the mere mention of them.

"Lahmu, you say?" Even with absolutely no idea as to who or what they were, Morgan felt a shiver of revulsion shoot up her spine, as if the very concept of them was...wrong somehow.

"Horrific creatures created by the Primordial Mother, the mythical Tiamat herself, for the purpose of replacing humanity. Filthy, impossible beasts that should not exist!" Ivan insisted. "She, especially, was perhaps one of the greatest challenges that our Master ever faced. He said that it took almost everything he and his allies had to stop her. Countless sacrifices, near-constant danger and near defeats...and even then, the only reason he prevailed was because he convinced Tiamat to halt her rampage. To let herself die."

"Are you...what?"

"It sounds almost impossible, but it is true. I was told by the Master himself. Apparently, he was able to speak to the Goddess...at least, to what remained of her sane and rational mind. He convinced her that she already had what she wanted: the love and affection of the children that once rejected her, and whose rejection drove her to the madness that was consuming her and fuelling her rampage.

"That in itself is a grand feat indeed...but combined with the boy's efforts across the other Singularities, with him facing down a swarm of Dragons; a legion of traitorous Romans; the famous Argonauts; a fog that nearly consumed a city; a horde of marauding Celts and the God-blessed Knights of the Round Table, well...it is no exaggeration to say that he has overcome more trials than almost anyone here.

"And then it was all rendered for nothing. Every sacrifice. Every effort. Every challenge he overcame...all of it was rendered meaningless. The world he saved was wiped away, and then our Lostbelts took its place."

Morgan gaped in shock. She'd not known any of this.

"And yet, he fights on, despite his grievous loss and the innumerable challenges he faces, he presses forth. It seems I was right after all about his will to survive being greater than my own."

"I...don't doubt that. Not anymore." Morgan whispered, still processing everything she'd just been told, the short burst of high spirits she'd experienced now thoroughly gone.

"And of course, he displayed such kindness and empathy to me. I was his enemy, an obstacle on the path to rebuilding his world...and yet he was willing to cry for me. My late wife, she and he would have surely gotten along.

"That kindness, it was a beautiful thing indeed. That it was bleached from my world and my citizens...I suspect that was why our world was removed. Humanity, I believe, needs that compassion and kindness to truly advance forward together. True progress can only be made through peaceful unity, not by force.

"Though I do find some harsh irony in one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"I lost because I forsook my kindness, my humanity, in favour of the strength and power I believed was necessary to stabilise my world, and you lost because, in spite of everything, you still acted on your kindness and humanity just one last time." Ivan chuckled mirthlessly. "Perhaps if our positions had been reversed, or one of us was brought over to the other kingdom, at least one of our worlds may have survived."

"That...That possibility is certainly interesting. A pity we will never have the opportunity to put it into practice." Morgan admitted, sighing heavily. "After all, if there were any Lostbelt ruler I would be able to work with, I think it would be you."

"Putting aside our similar methods...might that be, at least in part, because misery basks in company?" Ivan asked.

"...I would be lying if I said no, I must admit."

For the next minute, the two monarchs sat in silence. Words weren't needed at that point, they simply took solace in the fact that there was a kindred spirit in Chaldea, offering both validation and company.

"I wonder if I should check on Master." Ivan's voice was scarcely above a whisper, but Morgan still managed to catch it.

"Hmm? Why would you need to do that, Ivan?"

"Because I saw him wandering these halls, seemingly heading to the cafeteria, while I was on my way to the simulator. That was at least an hour and a half ago. I cannot help but wonder if the nightmares have returned tonight."

"Nightmares?"

"Of his prior journeys. They are far less frequent now, at least according to that vengeful aristocrat that claims to protect our Master's mind, but they still occur every once in a while. That is...that is actually why he asked me to read bedtime stories for him, as a substitute for a material gift that I intended to get him.

"Company, it seems, is the finest protection against the night terrors and regrets that plague the poor lad. But if they have already menaced him tonight...I would hate to think that I failed my duty as a Servant by leaving him alone, when my presence might have reassured him."

Swallowing, Morgan considered everything she'd just heard...and the opportunity that had just presented itself.

Well, you do want to ingratiate yourself to Ritsuka, don't you? What better way to do that than by offering Master your company when he may need companionship the most?

Yes, this was too important a stroke of fortune for Morgan to let it pass her by.

"Well then, perhaps I could check up on him for you, to see how he is doing?" She suggested. "I am sure I could soothe his worries well enough and, if necessary, my Magecraft can ensure that he at least gets an appropriate amount of rest."

"Mmmm, are you sure you can manage alone?"

"Be at ease, I have dealt with many nights of troubled sleep thanks to Baobhan Sith, this is nothing new to me."

"Very well then, I'll leave it to you….but do be sure to let me know afterwards how the boy is doing, won't you?"

"Of course. Farewell for now, Tzar Ivan."

"Farewell to you, Fae Queen Morgan. It was...nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

---

Fortunately, it did not take Morgan long at all to get to the cafeteria from the simulator. Thanks to knowing that Ritsuka was there beforehand, a simple mana tracking spell, keyed to his magic circuits, gave the Fae Queen an easy route straight to him.

All through her little walk, Morgan had been thinking about what might greet her beyond the doors to the cafeteria.

Would her Master be sad? Quite possibly.

Angry? Perhaps.

Wallowing in sheer misery and self-loathing? Hopefully not.

Merry? Not unless he was thoroughly inebriated. And considering he was apparently still a minor and forbidden from alcohol, even now…

Scratch that last option, then. It was most unlikely.

What sort of strategy should she go for? Try to soothe his worries and convince him that he shouldn't dwell on the horrors he'd seen and been forced to carry out? Validate his feelings and offer a shoulder to cry on, as Ivan had done for her?

Perhaps share a little bit about herself? Specifically, herself from before the coronation? Try to relate to Ritsuka's own struggles and setbacks to find some common ground with him?

Mmm…

The more she thought about it, the more the third strategy sounded more appealing. Building a connection through a shared suffering was sure to help her efforts at ingratiating herself to Ritsuka a great deal.

After all, they would have an understanding of one another that many of her fellow Servants lacked, especially those cursed, unstable stalkers of his. He could come to her if ever he needed to vent his concerns, and vice versa.

Perhaps, she could even...be a form of security for him, on the nights where his inner demons reared their ugly heads. She was sure that her magecraft could soothe his troubled mind, even give him a pleasant dream to see him safely through the night.

A-And maybe, just maybe...he would be willing to do the same for her? Lord knows Baobhan Sith tried her very best, she truly did...but sometimes her presence only provoked yet more nightmares.

Nightmares of that horrible sight.

Of all that blood...

Of those...those ruined stumps, just flailing about like that. Weakly, desperately…

"Please...it's so cold. I-I can't...I can't feel…please help me."

Bile rose in her throat at the memory, with Morgan barely keeping from retching as she clenched her fists, slammed her eyes shut and willed that horrible memory out of her conscious mind.

Just go away...GO AWAY. Baobhan Sith is SAFE now. That...that will NOT happen again!

Eventually, she felt better enough to continue. After all, the cafeteria door was just in sight now.

You can hold yourself together, you fool! Come on, just a few mo-

WHAM.

W...What!?

So distracted was she that Morgan ran directly into what felt like an invisible wall, directly around the cafeteria door.

After a moment of stunned silence, Morgan recovered enough to realise what it was she'd run into.

It was a Bounded Field...and now that she checked properly with a quick observation spell, it wasn't just blocking the door, it was blocking out the entire cafeteria.

A little probing of the field only had Morgan growing ever more nervous. It was designed to block out teleportation, mind reading Magecraft (or Mystic Eyes with a similar effect) and physical entrance, nullify the spiritual forms of Servants and the Presence Concealment that typically came with the Assassin Class, just on the off chance one of them was already present when the Bounded Field was established. No sound could escape the barrier either...nor could any Clairvoyants peer into it.

With how potent the Bounded Field was, not even a Clairvoyant of Merlin's calibre would be able to see what was going on within those walls.

In short, it was designed for complete and total privacy.

Her Master was in there, yes, but there was absolutely no chance of him being the source of this protection. After all, he was a meagre Magus at best with poor-quality Magic Circuits. Even with the knowledge of the finest Age of Gods Mages within easy reach, the sheer amount of power it would require to erect the Bounded Field guarding the cafeteria would burn the poor boy out in seconds, before he even got anywhere close to establishing the field.

There must be someone else in there with him, but who?

Perhaps they were comforting Ritsuka themselves, and simply established the Bounded Field to grant him the peace and quiet he might need to safely vent any frustrations and fears he might have needed to get off his chest?

...or perhaps they had lured him in with nefarious intentions, and established the Bounded Field to prevent anyone else from interfering?

On the one hand, she could interrupt this potential invader's plans for her Master when no one else seemed to be available, that would probably be worth quite a few of those so-called 'brownie points' in the future, right?

On the other hand, just barging in there when whatever was going on could be perfectly innocent would be...problematic indeed. She'd look like some sort of pushy fool with no respect for Ritsuka's boundaries. That was very much NOT a good impression to make.

Hmmm, certainly a conundrum. What to do...what to do?

Well, discretion may have been the better part of valour, but Morgan felt that in this case, a little intervention was necessary.

If her worst suspicions were correct, then she would be doing her duty as a Servant and prying Ritsuka from the clutches of a hostile invader, it would be a commendable act.

And if those suspicions were wrong, well...at least she had the excuse of not knowing who had created this mysterious Bounded Field, having been told on good authority that Ritsuka would be alone, and would surely be excused for being cautious and suspicious.

Yes. Best to take the chance after all.

Well then, no time like the present, I suppose.

Stepping forward, Morgan summoned her runes and inspected the Bounded Field one last time.

The construction would doubtless have proven far too complex for a lesser Mage...but to Morgan's eye, its structure was relatively simple. A few of her more special runes combined together could pierce through this barrier just fine. The problem was the sheer output of magical power that it would take to break through, considering how much magic had gone into creating it.

Once more, Morgan found herself cursing this weakened form of hers. Still, she would make do. After all, Chaldea's systems were providing the magical energy she needed, hopefully their supply would be enough.

Well, one way to find out.

Gripping her spear with rune-covered hands, Morgan placed the tip against the Bounded Field, aiming straight for the mystic symbol that she knew was controlling the barrier (at least, the portion of it that covered the doorway) and began to channel her energy into both nullification and shield breaker spells.

The shield breaker spell would pierce a hole in the magical barrier large enough to fit her spear through, while the nullification spell would deactivate the mystic symbol that was projecting it in the first place. Simple...in theory, anyway.

Two minutes passed and the Bounded Field remained intact. This was within Morgan's expectations, so she remained calm and increased the magical energy flow, while conjuring a few more mystic enhancement runes to bolster the potency of her spells further.

Three more minutes passed. The Bounded Field had begun to flicker in a small area around where her spear's tip was pressing, but otherwise it remained firm.

She was beginning to get a little bit irritated now, so she bolstered the magical energy flow again and summoned yet more enhancement runes.

Five more minutes. Now, the Bounded Field was beginning to flicker and waver. Morgan gritted her teeth, her body starting to feel just a little bit sluggish from the exertion of constant energy channelling, and pressed forward, using all of her strength to force her spear forward and try to force an opening.

A surge of elation ran through the Berserker as the weapon began to inch forward, a tiny gap appearing within the barrier…

Only for the mystic symbol to flare bright with power, reinforcing the lagging barrier and trapping Morgan's spear in place.

Alright, now she was starting to get just a little bit angry.

You dare to keep ME out, eh? Who do you think you are!? She snarled in her mind.

"Ufufufufu..."

The laughter was oh so quiet, carried on some ethereal wind...and yet Morgan could still detect just a hint of mockery in those giggles.

All it did was drive her forward all over again, as she tightened her grip on her spear, manifested yet more runes and channelled all the power she could muster into her spells.

By this point, her face was slick with sweat and her body felt quite thoroughly drained from the constant exertion. But still, the Fae Queen pressed on.

Slowly but surely, the Bounded Field began to weaken again, and her spear gradually inched forwards.

Closer...closer…

The built up fatigue was practically a weight on her shoulders. Keeping her eyes open was a chore in itself. But nonetheless, Morgan pressed on. Just one more push!

Come on...COME ON!

After one more torturous minute of straining, Morgan's spear finally forced its way through the Bounded Field and pressed the nullification rune against the mystic symbol.

All at once, the symbol vanished and the barrier surrounding the cafeteria door collapsed, sending the exhausted Fae Queen stumbling forward. Unfortunately, her fatigue meant that Morgan was a little too sluggish to catch herself in time, which meant she slammed limply into the door and collapsed onto the floor.

After a few embarrassing minutes of huffing and wheezing, recovering her lost strength, Morgan finally hauled herself up, planted her feet and used a few quick spells to fix up her appearance. It was a little vain, but she would rather not look as dishevelled as she felt in front of her Master.

A few moments later, she felt presentable enough to go on, and moved to approach the cafeteria door.

However, before she could thumb the open button, the door opened on its own.

Then someone stepped out of the cafeteria.

At first glance and to those not in the know, the woman appeared to be a nun. After all, she was dressed in what looked to be the traditional attire, black tunic; black veil; white under veil; white coif and a whimple.

But those experienced enough would surely see that something was...off about this particular sister's outfit.

For one thing, her tunic was far too form-fitting and had dangerously open slits trailing up the thighs. No nun would ever wear an outfit with titillation in mind. For another, there was a distinct lack of a scapular and a holy cross anywhere.

All of Morgan's remaining sluggishness and fatigue was quite sharply pushed aside, adrenaline flooding her system as she recognised who exactly it was in front of her.

Her survival instinct was screaming at her to ready herself for flight or fight and her mystic senses were practically on fire as they picked up the roiling, coiling waves of magic flowing off of the new arrival.

Magic that, unless her senses were mistaken, was very much demonic in nature.

Morgan's grip on her spear tightened; mystic runes began flaring across her body; her breathing quickened; her heart hammered in her throat and her entire body stiffened. Despite the shivers crawling up her spine, she still managed to assume what she hoped was a defensive stance, preparing whatever spells she could think of.

Golden, glowing eyes met her blue ones. Lips turned upwards into a teasing smile.

And then, the new arrival laughed softly.

Morgan barely kept herself from shivering at the sound...that very, very familiar sound.

It's the same laugh.

"My my my...what have we here?"