Ch. 94 - Path Forward

In the Antarctic, 'day' and 'night' were confusing things. Sitting close to the south pole, the sun's presence or absence didn't denote the time of day but rather the season: Eternal sunshine during summer and everlasting night in the winter. Those who weren't attuned to the cycle of Antarctica would find themselves constantly lethargic or sleep deprived as a result. The Antarctic wasn't a hospitable locale even for the natural denizens there.

Chaldea had its own simple solution to such a debacle: During the 'curfew' times of 10 pm to 7 am, the lights in the hallways were turned off, leaving only the lights on the floor for navigation and sight. The windows that opened into the Antarctic landscape were polarized and dimmed if it was sunny outside to simulate night. There was no way to properly emulate daytime in turn, but the current solutions had sufficed for work efficiency.

For Mash Kyrielight, her day started at 6 am, an hour before the lights would properly turn on. As she got out of bed, she stretched and checked the time. Her senpais were likely still asleep – she knew Ren was normally a late riser (though Morgana told her he used to get up even later in the morning back in Tokyo) and Ritsuka most likely needed more rest.

Getting up, she took a shower and changed into her usual Chaldea wear, then sat down at her desk to begin working on her report. It had been a while since she had worn something besides her Servant gear. While it felt like a second skin to her and was never uncomfortable, it was always pleasant to wear something else. She always felt like she was on guard when she wore her Servant gear even at times of rest and could never truly relax. Meanwhile, she felt far more at ease whenever she donned her Chaldean clothes. They even felt more… 'comfortable' was probably the best word to put it.

Now that she thought about it, it was an interesting phenomenon. Perhaps one's dress and appearance also had cognitive effects for both wearer and perceiver? Her memory flashed back to Ren-senpai's Phantom Thief appearance back in Orleans: the clothing of a Phantom Thief, a gentleman rogue that one caught glimpses of only if he wished to be seen. He wouldn't be so gallant and striking a figure if his clothes didn't represent such. Then again, simply clothing wouldn't be enough to make an emphasis. If Ren-senpai didn't have that lean yet powerful physique built for agility, perfectly suited for his clothes like a graceful panther leaping from rooftop to rooftop-

She stopped her train of thought. She had been having a lot of strange thoughts and feelings as of late: A compliment from Ren-senpai was enough to cause her to blush, and whenever she remembered the kiss Nero gave him before they came back or Marie kissing him when she was summoned, she felt an odd ache in her chest. Mozart had mentioned something about it back in Orleans, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Mash could only breathe a sigh of exhaustion. She had considered Ren-senpai to be her senpai in life, but speaking to him about this… no, she was sure he had other more important matters to attend to. Perhaps Ritsu-senpai would be a better one to speak to about this matter. It would be a good conversation away from Septem and what had happened there. At least, until she was ready to speak to all of them about it. Like Marie and Ren-senpai had said, she needed time.

Then she shook her head and turned back to her report. Lately, she had been getting more and more distracted. She needed to be wary of that.

"Fou, fou!"

No sooner had she made that resolve than she was disturbed once more – this time with Fou hopping up onto her desk and sitting right on her laptop. "Fou!" he barked directly at Mash.

Mash blinked in surprise, then smiled apologetically. "Hello, Fou," she cooed. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry I didn't give you any attention – it's been tiring after all." As she apologized, she reached over with both hands and began rubbing Fou underneath his chin. Fou in turn let out a small chirp that sounded like a 'hmph!' while simultaneously melting into the petting. "I'll be here all day today," she reassured the little animal. "So can I ask you to move off my laptop? I do want to work on this report."

Fou opened up one eye, then barked, "Fou!" Getting up, he hopped off the laptop into Mash's lap and curled like a cat. Mash could only smile softly as the being closed his eyes and drifted off into a nap, gently petting him. Septem had been extremely eventful, to put it mildly. It wasn't an excuse to neglect Fou, however. She would have to make it up to him – maybe some extra treats would do. As if Fou could sense what she was thinking, he snuggled deeper into her lap. The Shielder could only smile in response.

Focusing her attention once more on her report, she continued typing and giving as accurate descriptions of what happened as best she could. It was supposed to be for the entirety of the singularity so there was simply no way she could healthily complete it in one sitting, but she could at least make a good dent in it. Referencing any data logs as necessary, she worked away industriously, the only sound in her room being the occasional creak of her chair as she adjusted her seating.

Finally, she stopped and stretched, being careful not to disturb Fou who hadn't moved the entire time. She had typed up a few pages worth, from when they first arrived at the singularity to when they first marched out of Rome. There had been many preliminary details she needed to elaborate: The state of the empire, their opposition, plans that had been considered, any notable features about their opposition, and much more. It was going to be a very long report.

Mash wondered if Ren-senpai, Morgana, and Ritsu would need any help with theirs? If they did, she would gladly offer her assistance. But in the meantime, it was 7:30 in the morning now. She wondered if Ren-senpai was awake – she had said she wanted to bring his curry and coffee over to Ritsu-senpai this morning. "Fou?" she gently murmured. "It's time for breakfast. Do you mind getting up? I promise to give you some bacon."

Fou's ears perked up, then he slowly stood up with a yawn. "Kyuu," he cooed before hopping up to her shoulder. With a smile, Mash stood up, stretched her legs, and made her way to the cafeteria.

About half an hour later, she was on her way to Ritsuka's room, carrying a larger tray with two omelet dishes and two cups of apple juice. Fou remained perched on her shoulder as he happily chewed on a piece of bacon. Ren-senpai had unfortunately not been in the kitchen, most likely still resting or sleeping. As much as she missed his curry and coffee, she wasn't about to wake him up for such a selfish reason. No, he and Morgana deserved all the rest they needed.

Reaching the door of Ritsuka's room, she carefully maneuvered a corner of the tray to press the button on the front panel. A quiet dial tone rang out as she waited for her senpai's response. Then there was a click and the screen turned on, revealing the redhead's face of curiosity – an expression that morphed into delight as she saw who it was. "Morning, Mash!" she greeted with a grin. "What's going on?"

Mash blinked in surprise at how cheerful Ritsuka seemed but decided not to question it for now. "Good morning, senpai," she greeted in turn. "I was on my way to wake you up, but it seems that's unnecessary. I picked up some breakfast from the cafeteria and was wondering if you'd like to eat together?"

Ritsuka blinked in surprise, then she grinned again. "Read my mind," she chirped. "I'm famished. Come on in!" The screen winked off and a split second later, the door to her room slid open.

The Shielder stepped in with the tray. Ritsuka's room had undergone a few changes since the last time she entered. While before it had been plastered nearly wall to wall with Phantom Thief memorabilia, now there were only a few posters on the walls. The Phantom Thief figurines were still on her desk, but the ones of Ren-senpai and Morgana were notably absent. A large cardboard box sitting in a corner filled with rolled up posters and other such merchandise quickly answered where they had all vanished to. The closet was still overflowing, but it seemed more care had been taken to actually properly store things out of sight.

"You took down a lot of your decorations," Mash noted in surprise.

Ritsuka blinked, then chuckled sheepishly as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, yeah," she admitted. "It's more than awkward for everyone showing you're a mega-fan when you're working alongside two of them, so I thought I should tone it down a bit. Hope I haven't made Ren and Morgana too uncomfortable with it all. But yeah, just set the tray down over at the desk. What'd you get? Smells great!"

Mash smiled as she set the tray down on the desk, which now had more than enough room for her to do so. "I believe the automated chef said these are California omelets with hashbrowns," she answered as Fou hopped off her shoulder. The little beast curled up on Ritsuka's (still messy) bed and immediately closed his eyes to nap. "As well as some apple juice. I had thought of getting some of Ren-senpai's curry and coffee, but he wasn't cooking breakfast today. Most likely he's still sleeping."

"Well, I don't blame him," the redhead replied as she sat down on the bed with a huff. "It was a crazy day yesterday. He's gotta be wiped out after everything."

The Shielder nodded in agreement. "What about you, Ritsu-senpai?" she asked out of curiosity. "I don't believe I've seen you wake up this early on a day off – not that that is a bad thing, of course!" Indeed, Ritsuka had already washed and was dressed once more in her Master uniform. If Mash had been any later, she wasn't sure if Ritsuka would have been in her room at all.

The redhead grinned. "Eh, woke up in the middle of the night," she admitted. "And sleep could've been better, not gonna lie. But now I'm a bit too restless to keep sleeping so y'know, might as well get up and at 'em! Lotta things to do today – there's so much I still need to learn and improve on, after all. Maybe I should check in with Da Vinci, see if there's something she can make to help me out: Improvements to the uniform or something of the sort. The more the better! And of course, I gotta talk to Ren and Morgana too about… certain things, but I can wait until they wake up."

Mash quietly bit her lip as she listened to Ritsuka ramble about her plans for the day. Normally, she would be used to her garrulousness but after how she had seen her senpai the other day combined with the exact same actions she had been taking… she wondered how Ren-senpai would have handled this.

"Senpai."

The word, softly spoken out from the lilac-haired girl, was enough to halt Ritsuka's rambling. The resulting silence left Mash in a lurch. She hadn't planned any further than that – she just knew she had to stop her from rambling. "P-Perhaps we should have our breakfast first?" she asked quickly. "It will get cold if we leave it for too long."

Ritsuka blinked several times, then grinned again with a nod. "Good call, Mash," she agreed happily. "I'm starving!" With that she made her way over to grab a dish from the tray as well as a fork and sat down on the bed. Mash, after a moment's hesitation, joined her. Grabbing her own dish, she sat on the chair instead across from Ritsuka. As the redhead ate with relish, the Shielder picked at her own food, occupied with her own thoughts.

"Senpai…?" she asked quietly.

Ritsuka immediately looked up, swallowing her food before answering. "What's up?" she asked with a smile.

Mash hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to approach this – or rather, how would Ren approach this. "If you don't m-mind me asking," she stammered quietly. "Um… may I ask wh-what happened while we were gone?"

The change was immediate: Ritsuka's face fell as she slowly set down her fork. "It's…" she began, then stopped. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke nor moved. The only sound in the room was the quiet hiss of the air conditioner. Fou stretched, readjusted his position, then went back to sleep as if the girls' situation didn't concern him whatsoever.

Ritsuka was the first to break the silence, forcing a smile on her face. "Let's finish our breakfast first," she suggested quietly. "It's… not a story to go over with empty stomachs. And like you said, food's getting cold."

The Shielder opened her mouth to answer, closed it, then simply nodded. Ritsuka smiled in thanks and continued eating, this time at a much slower pace. Mash did too, though her appetite had diminished considerably in the last few seconds. Perhaps she went too far. She should have waited until her senpai was ready to speak.

She could only silently berate herself. For now, she could only hope Ren could help resolve this situation – and that she hadn't made things worse.

If Ren could've gotten more sleep, he would have. It wasn't until he collapsed in his bed that all his exhaustion from the day had hit all at once: The countless hours of marching, the stress from numerous battles, and to top it all off, the fatigue from infiltrating the URE capital followed by back to back battles with Romulus and Flauros-Lev… before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep sleep. Morgana had felt the same way, tipping over at the foot of Ren's bed and had fallen asleep mid-praising of the softness of the mattress in turn.

Thus, it was with bleary eyes and exhaustion when Ren received the call at his door. The screen winked on to show Joan right outside. He blinked multiple times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the hallway. Judging from the lighting, it was probably somewhat into the morning at this point - he hadn't checked the time yet. "H-hey Joan," he murmured, suppressing a yawn as best he could. "What's happening?"

The Lancer scowled and crossed her arms. When she spoke however, her tone was surprisingly calmer and more measured than he expected. "You promised me we'd talk about what's going on and what you did to me in more detail when we got back, right?" she asked. "I know well enough now you're not the type to go back on your word. When are we going to talk?"

Ren blinked several more times as he checked the time. 7 in the morning. "C-could you give me, like, an hour, hour and a half?" he asked as he finally yawned. "Sorry – I just need a bit more sleep and I'd rather not give you answers when I'm half-asleep. Not for this."

Joan sighed aridly. As impatient as she was, she couldn't argue that he had a point. "I'll give you two," she replied curtly. "I'll see you then." The screen turned off, leaving him in the darkness once more.

"Who was that?" came Morgana's sleepy voice.

"Joan," Ren answered. "She just wanted that long overdue talk. Busy day today, it seems, but we can get a bit more sleep. Back to bed."

Morgana yawned. "Alright…"

Thus, time passed. After another hour and a half, they both had gotten up. Ren had finished his workout, showered, and had changed into his Master uniform as the time approached. "You sure you wanna do this by yourself, Ren?" Morgana asked in concern as he perched on the desk. "I can help fill in any blanks and have your back in case things get ugly again. With Joan, it might even be necessary."

Ren smiled warmly as he smoothed out the blankets on his freshly made bed. "I don't think Joan will be that difficult," he declined. "It's just a conversation that we really needed to have and smooth things over. It should be fine – Joan's a sensible person."

"'Sensible'?" Morgana echoed skeptically.

The Phantom Thief chuckled. "Yes, sensible," he confirmed with good humor. "But thanks, Morgana. I'll holler if I need backup."

The catlike being huffed with reluctance. "You better," he grumbled – just as the panel began ringing once more. "But then, it's you, Joker. If you say you got it, you got it. I'm with you all the way."

Ren grinned in gratitude. Feeling his spirits lighten, he turned on the panel to see Joan there once more. "Hey Joan," he greeted cordially. "Come on in." Turning off the screen, he pressed the button to open the bedroom door. As the black-garbed Lancer walked in, Morgana had stepped out, the catlike being shooting a wary glance at Joan before walking off. Another press of the button and the door closed, leaving just the two of them in the room.

He considered any pleasantries to start with but ultimately decided against it. "So, where would you like me to start?" Ren asked, his grey eyes unreadable as he easily met Joan's amber ones.

Joan frowned. Straight to business, it seems. She could appreciate that. "From the beginning," she replied bluntly. "What you did, what Gilles did, and what I am now – mentally and physically."

The Phantom Thief nodded. "Right – as you're aware, a Palace forms when a person has a distortion," Ren began. "The source – or core - of said distortion is the Treasure. When a distortion isn't checked, it warps a person's personality until everything they do revolves around it, often for the worse, making it far easier to commit evil to maintain it or even create mental hallucinations that reinforce it."

The Lancer crossed her arms as she leaned against a wall, listening. "So I was distorted and it made me act crazy," she growled. "Which explains everything I did in Orleans."

"Yes and no," Ren replied. "In your case, I have a theory that your distortion wasn't a natural thing that developed, but rather you had one built in when you were created."

Joan's eyes narrowed. She was about to ask what he meant when a piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Gilles," she stated flatly.

The Phantom Thief nodded in confirmation. "Gilles rambled and ranted about creating you with the Grail," he elaborated. "So it would make sense he also included your distortion in the process – in this case, overwhelming hatred towards France and the country's perceived sins. When we infiltrated your Palace and stole your treasure, we removed that distortion that he placed in you."

The former doppelganger gulped as she considered his words. "But I was supposed to be some… copy of Jeanne, made to hate and take vengeance on France," she pointed out. "If you removed my distortion which was my main reason for being, wouldn't that basically be the same as… well… killing me? Hell, I'd say it would've been more merciful to do so."

Ren frowned deeply in response. He was reminded of when they first took Kamoshida's Treasure. They had left it to Ann, the girl who had suffered so much by his hands, to decide his fate… and in the end, she didn't kill him. Ryuji and Morgana both believed it was out of mercy, but he saw that anger and hatred on Ann's face. It was no mercy; she wanted him alive to he could suffer the full repercussion of his actions. That had ironically become the basis of their MO afterward, and one of the reasons why they stuck so strictly to no killing.

"There's ways to kill someone in the Metaverse but that's a conversation for another time," he replied shortly. "But whenever we stole a Treasure, the target's personality – including the basis of their distortion – was still there. We simply made sure that they couldn't mentally handle feeding or supporting it any further." This was strictly his own theory, though it had a basis: Their encounter with Kamoshida's shadow inside the depths of Mementos, where he made that crude remark towards Ann, and Futaba who still had troubles with family, outside interaction, and social skills even after her shadow became a Persona and the heist had completed.

"So… what does that mean?" Joan asked slowly.

"It means," Ren concluded. "That without your distortion, what's left is just… well, you. What makes you happy or angry or sad, what you like or dislike, your memories, your actions… after we took your Treasure, you're no longer the doppelganger that destroyed France anymore. You're not Jeanne d'Arc either. You're simply Joan. For better or worse, that's up to you."

The Lancer could only fall silent at that, pondering. Simply herself, for better or worse… "That doesn't erase what I did," she muttered.

"No, it doesn't," Ren agreed. "But it was through hatred forced on you by Gilles. Without it, how do you feel about it now?

There was only one answer to that. "Like shit," she replied bluntly. "They may have deserved some form of… retribution, I guess. I'm still pissed about what they did - or rather, what they did to Jeanne. But not like that. Never like that."

The Phantom Thief nodded as if he expected that answer. "Then that's probably how you actually feel about it," he concluded. "From what I remember of what I studied of that time, it was a pretty horrible situation – the kind we'd have tried to help either you or Jeanne get out of if we could. I understand why you'd be pissed, at least."

Joan frowned as she silently considered his words. Raising her arm, she watched as blue scales started growing and forming on her limb. They felt both unnatural yet familiar, revolting yet strong. It felt like part of her yet not at all. "And what about this?" she asked.

Ren paused, then breathed a sigh. "That was completely unexpected," he answered honestly. "If you recall, I used Satan multiple times both to scare and to attack you. It had a profound effect on you, enough that there was a cognitive version of it in your Palace-"

"I'm sorry," Joan interrupted, holding up a hand. "That thing got stuck in my head?"

"Strong enough impressions can create cognitive versions of said impression within your Palace, yes," Ren confirmed. "You had considered it an invincible sinner of judges, apparently – nothing we or anyone else did could destroy it. My theory – again, only a theory since this has never happened before – is that it had such an effect on you that it got baked into your identity as a Servant now. It's a part of your 'legend', so to speak."

The Lancer frowned before staring at the blue scales with an unreadable expression. They vanished as she dismissed them. The scales of Satan… she wasn't sure what to make of them, but she could ponder that in her own time. "You still changed me," Joan pointed out with a growl. "If I'm inferring right about your targets, at least they had a past. I didn't – that distortion was essentially part of 'me' from the moment I was formed. You had changed utterly who I am because it suited you."

"I did," Ren agreed without hesitation. He wasn't about to make excuses for himself. "We didn't even have the option of trying to kill you in reality – your position was too heavily fortified. And we were still leery of inducing a mental shutdown by killing your shadow. So as a last resort, we stole your Treasure. That was the only way we could stop you."

Joan was silent for a moment. "Jeanne told me she agreed with that plan," she muttered.

The admittance caught Ren slightly by surprise. "She did," he replied. "But it was our plan to begin with." He wasn't about to foist the responsibility on someone else. No, what happened was because of him. Everyone else may have agreed, but he called the shots. It was his responsibility in the end.

There was a period of silence between them as they met each other's eyes, trying to discern any intentions or waving on either side. Despite the intensity of Joan's gaze, Ren didn't flinch whatsoever and calmly matched hers in turn. The air was tense, yet Ren made no move to summon prepare his personas or call his other Servants. He had wronged Joan in many ways and if she wished for retribution, that was her right. This was his problem to fix, one way or another. But more than that, he had faith in Joan – faith she whatever she chose, it was for herself and no one else. That was the most important aspect of this.

Finally, Joan sighed in irritation, breaking the tension in the room. "Fine, I get it," she grumbled. "It was a crap situation all around and it was the only choice you had. I'm not happy about it and you did what you wished. But that's that."

Ren's expression was impassive as he heard Joan's answer. "What are you going to do now, then?" he inquired.

The Lancer shot a small glare at the Phantom Thief. "What I said before," she growled. "I made a huge mess back in France and killed a lot of people, both deserving and not. I need to clean up after myself and make sure it doesn't happen again. And that means helping you guys resolve these singularities."

"And after that?" Ren pressed.

Joan blinked in surprise. "And after…?" she echoed. The more she thought about it, the more pensive she became. "… I don't know," she honestly admitted. "I didn't think I'd get this far after getting my heart stolen – ever. I… I thought I'd be killed by Gilles and that would be that. So… I didn't think about it." What had Jeanne said before? That this new life was a gift for her from Him? She certainly didn't believe it was a 'gift from Him', but she couldn't deny that it was an… unexpected circumstance.

Ren could only look down in consideration – and no small amount of guilt. He had done what was necessary, he had no doubts about that. However, that also meant Joan's current state was his fault and responsibility. She had been forced to have an entirely new life, with everything ripped away from her and starting from almost literally nothing. But he had already done enough to Joan. At this point, he didn't have any right to interfere.

The Lancer glared at Ren, then sighed again. "And what do you suggest?" she grumbled.

The Phantom Thief looked up in surprise. "Sorry?"

"You caused this problem and you're already thinking about how to fix it, aren't you?" Joan pointed out bluntly. "You're a crafty enough of a bastard to think of ideas – so what do you suggest?"

Ren could only blink again. "Well…" he said slowly. "My first thought is perhaps to talk to Jeanne. She probably knew more than anyone else your circumstances – about France, about Gilles, the politics, and more. It's just a start, but I think it might be a good way to take a step forward."

Joan frowned in consideration. "Talking to her again, huh…" she muttered. "I've already been talking to her a bit, but… fine. If you think that's a good way to at least start, then I'll try it. Since you're as bent on fixing this as I am on cleaning up after my mess, then I'll be asking you for your help on this. I'd tell you not to weasel out of it, but… I've seen how you were in that singularity. You're not the damn type. Irritates the crap out of me, but that's how it goes. Got that?"

Ren's smile widened as he nodded. "Sounds good to me, Joan," he replied earnestly. "You can account on me." He felt something unlock once more and knew that familiar feeling: Another arcana bond had formed, this time with Joan.

Then he felt what it was and was secretly surprised. He already had a Fool arcana with Ritsuka, but he didn't expect yet another one with Joan too. Chaldea was certainly a unique place if he could have multiple people with the same arcana – it certainly never occurred back in Tokyo.

Joan was about to leave when suddenly she paused as a thought struck her. "Wait," she said as she whirled back around. "Why the hell didn't you tell me all this from the beginning?! I wouldn't be nearly half as pissed off or confused if you didn't beat around the goddamn bush about the whole matter! Instead, I had to wait that entire damn campaign to get some straight answers!"

The Phantom Thief blinked in surprise. "It's…" he began, then he fell silent as he bowed his head. It was a far different reaction than what the Lancer had expected. "The world was destroyed," he murmured. "My friends and family are gone. I'm here in the middle of nowhere, asked to fix history for a chance to bring everyone back. Everything I gained, everything I had… gone, just like that. If… If I didn't at least have Morgana with me, I would have thought I had genuinely gone insane."

He took a deep, heaving breath. "It's been… difficult for me," he continued quietly. "I think what happened to me over the past year was also catching up to me at that point, so… there's that. It hasn't been the first time I've been kicked down to the bottom, sure. Not even the second. But… it doesn't make it any easier. But that talk… well, it showed me that I need to do something about it. That I need to be better – or rather, as good as I had been before – so we can succeed, and take everything back."

He smiled up at Joan. "And honestly? I've got you to thank for that," he said. "That screw up of a talk was the slap in the face I needed to snap myself out of it. It took a lot longer than it should've, but because of that, I'm more than ready for whatever comes ahead so we can take the whole world back. So… thank you, Joan, so much, for kicking my rear into gear and getting things rolling. Without you, I might not have snapped out of it – not until it was far too late, anyway."

Joan's mouth hung open. That… disaster of a talk was what caused Ren to shape up? And he was genuinely thanking her for it?! Was this some sort of ploy to butter her up or something? No, even an idiot could tell that Ren was being absolutely genuine – both his explanation for his attitude and his gratitude. She wasn't sure how to take this at all. Like with Mash, she felt like she was faced with bright lights that she had to look away from.

And the explanation. She had no words for it. None at all. She may have been pissed about what he had done to her but in the end, he wasn't some demon or devil in the garb of a hero or even a Phantom Thief. In front of her was just a person. One who was trying to do the best with what he was given, for better or worse. She wasn't sure how to process it at this point or how to properly react. This was far too confusing for her.

"Just… just be more careful in the future," she snapped, turning away. "Next time this happens, I'll give you an actual punch with a gauntlet – and you don't wanna be picking teeth up from the ground."

Ren couldn't help but chuckle at the 'threat'. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied.

The dark-clad Lancer nodded. "Good," she grumbled. Without another word, she slapped the panel to open the door and walked through. As it hissed shut, she breathed a quiet sigh. Many of the more straightforward questions had been answered, but now she was left with bigger, more complicated ones. How would she fix the damage she had caused? What should she do going forward? And ultimately, once it was all done, what then? What would she do?

She could only sigh. A new life was a hefty responsibility.

"Did you have a good talk?"

Joan jumped in surprise at the gentle voice. Whirling around, she came face to face with the smiling figure of Jeanne d'Arc. "Wha- how long have you been here?" she spluttered as she tried to calm down.

Jeanne shook her head. "Not too long," she answered. "Morgana had mentioned you had left to talk to our Master so I came. I did not think there was much cause for concern – neither you nor Ren would allow the situation to escalate unduly – so I simply waited outside. However…" The saintess took a closer look at Joan's face. "You look troubled. Has he said something to disturb you?"

"Disturb…?" Joan echoed, then she grunted. "Not any more than I've disturbed myself, I guess. I've a lot of things to think about. Hell, I'm not even sure where to start on it."

"I see…" Jeanne murmured in thought. "Then… what about speaking with me about it? I'm not sure if I will be able to help, but I find a sympathetic, listening ear comforting and a good way to lift the burden on one's mind. It certainly feels like it whenever I come out of a confessional feeling refreshed and ready to tackle my problems and sins."

Joan's mouth hung open slightly. She was about to refuse when Ren's advice popped up in her mind. She sighed inwardly to herself. Well, he knew better than she did about this, and she had nothing better to go on anyway. "Fine," she grumbled. "This isn't a confession though, just letting you know. I just… need some help with this is all."

The saint smiled happily. "I did not intend it to be such," she accepted easily. "Come, let us get some tea first from the cafeteria – Marie showed me a particular blend that was surprisingly delicious. There should be a conference room after which we may talk in peace as much as you wish."

The Lancer nodded stiffly as she followed the happy Jeanne. Despite her troubles, despite everything, she felt her spirit lift ever so slightly. It seemed the Phantom Thief was on the right track after all.

Damn that Ren Amamiya.

The director's office had seen better days. Serving as Roman's impromptu bedroom, the formerly immaculate room had all the signs of a lived-in, overworked bachelor. While the cleaning robots came in to straighten it out, it often became messy again to some degree thanks to the doctor being stuck at his desk to the point of sleeping at it. And that was when he wasn't either at the command center trawling for new singularities or performing regular check-ups or hearing out health concerns from the staff.

Fortunately, it was still at a state where it could receive guests. Sitting on the sofa were Da Vinci and Marie, chatting amiably over tea. Tamamo sat across from them, quietly and serenely enjoying her own cup, her twitching ears the only indication of her attention to their conversation. Roman, meanwhile, was at his desk per usual as he finished typing up some notes for his report while opening a new document to begin recording as necessary.

Under normal circumstances, he'd be more than intimidated having three such women with him at once, especially when they were all waiting for him. However, circumstances are hardly normal right now.

Finally, he was ready. "Right," he murmured. At the single word, Da Vinci and Marie stopped talking and looked towards the doctor. Tamamo hadn't moved but another twitch of her ear followed by a flick of her tail indicated her attention. Roman looked up and looked toward Marie. "How's Ritsuka doing?" he asked.

Marie smiled sadly. "Mademoiselle Ritsu is… as well as she could be under the current circumstances," she reported. "She simply washed, changed, and cried herself to sleep last night. Other than that, I didn't notice any behaviors or actions that are worth undue concern, I believe."

"She did wake up in the middle of the night," Da Vinci supplied, gaining the attention of everyone. "And made herself some hot chocolate. A rather marvelous drink – I'm surprised I hadn't tried it sooner. Anyway, I recommended she talk to both the ragazzo and the gatto as they have experience in similar situations. They may be able to give advice and relate to her more with the situation."

"Ah, that is true," Marie realized as she thought back. "Morgana had been more than repentant for what had happened in Orleans. Such a sweet man he is. I've already more than forgiven him. And if monsieur Astolfo was as you described to me, such a gallant man no doubt would do the same."

Roman nodded as he noted down what they said on the document. He would have to write a report on Ritsuka's mental state for observation and for the records. This same information he would also have to take into account whenever he had their counseling session together. Approaching Ren, Morgana, and Ritsuka the same way each was irresponsible and foolish, to put it mildly. Even if it meant putting yet more work on his plate, he wasn't about to half-ass this if he could help it.

And speaking of Ren and Morgana, he looked up at Tamamo. "Tamamo, what do you think of your Masters?" he asked. Tamamo had been with them from beginning to end in many of the large battles. He had thought about asking Medusa, but Archer had recommended against it. The man himself was currently cooking breakfast for everyone and had thus couldn't join them immediately. Loki… well, none of them could trust the answers the Avenger would give (a fact that Loki would happily agree with). By process of elimination, that left the Caster miko.

Tamamo gently set down her cup. "Our Masters are rather reckless," she replied bluntly. "Ren in particular seems to have a penchant of running headlong into danger if he believed it necessary. He is more than capable with his own magecraft, I will not deny, but I am troubled that recklessness may land him in hot water sooner or later."

"He never seems to act without a plan though," Roman mused, nevertheless recording Tamamo's observations.

"That is true," Tamamo admitted. "However, that still doesn't change that he takes on more risks than may be strictly necessary. I do not doubt that he was instrumental to our victory in the singularity many times over, but my concern is that he'll end up overreaching with that confidence of his and may end up in more trouble than it's worth."

Da Vinci's ever-present smile warmed a bit. "You're rather concerned for him," she noted.

Tamamo's eyes turned to the genius. "Of course I am," she snapped. "He is my Master, after all, as are Ritsuka Fujiimaru and Morgana. They are as fledglings about Grail Wars, and I would rather not see them cut down before they have a chance to properly grow and blossom. They hold great potential within them, after all."

"That's your take on Ritsuka as well, then?" Roman asked as his eyes flicked over to the records of the singularity, where Tamamo had gone with Ritsuka and Mash to deal with Caesar in Gaul.

"It is," the Caster confirmed. "She's friendly and open, though not naïve, and she has a daring that few save perhaps her compatriot Masters can match. Her ideas are unorthodox yet effective as well, and she thinks her actions through. While she may not have similar magecraft or raw power Ren or Morgana have, I do not doubt she'll be as equally valuable as either of them."

Roman nodded pensively, recording her words. This would be a good thing to tell Ritsuka when they had their counseling. Tamamo may flatter others if necessary, but she wasn't one to outright compliment or praise without due reason. "I think she'd like to hear that herself," the doctor mused.

"And I shall tell her when the time is right," Tamamo acknowledged. "Any sooner, however, will undoubtedly feel hollow and ashen and will only make matters worse. There's a time and place for everything, doctor."

The doctor nodded, acceding to Tamamo's point. "And what about Morgana?" he asked, looking between Marie and Tamamo.

Marie smiled. "From all that I have seen, it seems monsieur Morgana follows the shadow of Ren closely," she noted. "From their confidence to their leadership styles. However, he is very much still his own person, else he would not have apologized to me so passionately for seemingly failing me and Mozart. I do not believe there are any grave concerns about him – where Ren goes, he goes."

Tamamo nodded. "He seems to have garnered the attention of one of my other tails," she added. "And as… distasteful as I find her, she normally has a good judgement of people. She even called him 'master' despite not being contracted to him. Morgana has said himself he's happy playing the support role, so I agree with Marie. I don't have any major concerns with him at the moment. I would recommend speaking with Medusa and Namel – Archer, however. They can provide better, more recent observations than we could.

Roman noticed the slip of the tongue from Tamamo but didn't comment on it, instead focusing on writing down his notes. "Alright, got it," he accepted. He finished typing and sighed as he reclined back in his chair. "I think that's my immediate concerns taken care of," he sighed. "Is there anything else we need to address while we're here?"

"I believe so," Da Vinci spoke up, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "In each singularity we have encountered thus far, we have encountered these beings called 'demon pillars'. While it is premature to completely assume that they are responsible for the current state of affairs, I don't believe it is a coincidence they have shown up twice. Furthermore, their names-"

"Orobas and Flauros," Tamamo supplied.

The genius nodded in acknowledgement. "Those names are from the Ars Goetia," she continued. "And I do not believe such powerful beings would take such names lightly – names and identities do have power, after all. There is cause to believe they may actually beings from the Ars Goetia."

"No, that can't be possible."

The vehement denial from Roman surprised everyone present. "And what basis do you have for that?" Tamamo inquired.

Roman spluttered for a second at eveyrone's intense stares. "I-it just… can't, okay?" he stammered. "I mean, we only have the names of just two demon pillars. That's not enough to go off of. And even then, powerful beings can be vain – they may have just taken the names or theming just to screw with people. Like how people or beings declare themselves gods - that 'grail' from Ren's adventures took on the name of Yaldabaoth, after all. But just declaring yourself that doesn't make it the actual Demiurge!"

Marie stirred her tea contemplatively. "Perhaps monsieur Amamiya may know something of them?" she suggested. "As we have seen, he has summoned an incarnation of Flauros in the Roman singularity, non? Might he have some knowledge of this matter?"

The doctor relaxed a bit at the new line of questioning. "We can try asking, but it's doubtful," he answered. "Ren has already explained that his personas are basically the 'form' of the beings, but not the actual beings themselves. He might know more about its background, but that will probably be the extent of it. Until we have more info, all we know is that they're immensely powerful and Lev is one of them."

The women looked at each other, uneasy and unsatisfied, but nodded. It seemed that was all they would agree on this front today. After a bit more discussion, they all took their leave to attend to their duties. Once the door shut behind them, the doctor collapsed his head in his hands as the names resounded in his mind.

Orobas. Flauros. Ars Goetia.

"No," he whispered. "It's… it can't be…"