An anonymous donator has commissioned for this story, which was originally posted on my snippets thread, to be its standalone story. They have commissioned for the entire prologue (Singularity F).
Thank you again. You know who you are.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burning wood, blending with a metallic tang of blood that stung the nose.
Ash fell like snow, dimming the muted light of a ruined sky. The world was a world suffocating in the aftermath of destruction. A once-bustling city lay in shambles, reduced to crumbling buildings and shattered streets. Fires raged unchecked, their glow casting flickering shadows that danced among the ruins.
He blinked, his vision swimming as his consciousness caught up with reality. A sharp pain seared through his left side, or what remained of it.
The dark void of his left eye socket pulsed in agony, a phantom reminder of what was lost. His remaining eye adjusted to the dim light, scanning the desolate environment.
He pressed a hand to his temple, the weight of disorientation heavy on his mind.
There was no memory. None of who he was. None of how he came to be here. Not even his name beyond faint whispers: John, Jack, David. Familiar yet hollow. His throat burned as if to scream, but no sound came.
The realization struck like a dagger—he couldn't speak. He hadn't spoken.
Helplessness clawed at him, a visceral force that twisted his gut. The muted chaos around him only amplified the silence within. He wanted to cry out, to demand answers from the void, but the inability to form words felt like drowning.
His breaths came shallow, his pulse pounding in his ears. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, fighting the tide of despair.
Then, a flicker of movement caught his eye—a bird, blackened and ragged, struggling to take flight amidst the destruction. Against all odds, it fought to rise, its wings battered but unyielding. The sight sparked something within him. A spark of determination, small but defiant, ignited in the face of his despair.
He couldn't remember who he was or why he was here, but he was alive. The loss of his eye and his voice were undeniable, but they weren't the end. He forced himself to stand, unsteady but resolute.
His body responded with a surge of strength, far beyond what he expected. Muscles coiled with readiness as if every fiber of his being demanded action.
The sound of clattering bones pierced the air. It was faint at first but grew louder, accompanied by guttural growls and scraping metal.
He turned toward the noise, his body tensing as his lone eye caught the movement of skeletal figures emerging from the shadows. Each step they took was deliberate, menacing.
Farther down the ruined street, a figure stood against the oncoming horde—a girl. Her violet hair caught the dim light, her posture guarded but firm. She wielded a massive shield with ease, her stance both defensive and commanding. She faced the skeletal monsters without hesitation, her voice echoing faintly through the chaos.
"Stay back!" she shouted, raising her shield to intercept a blade aimed at her. The clang of metal meeting metal reverberated in the air.
He didn't know her. He didn't know what the creatures were or why this world was a battlefield, but his instincts demanded action. His hand wandered his waist, seemingly guided by instinct.
Gripping the Fairbairn-Sykes fighting dagger at his belt, he sprinted forward. His movements were fluid, his balance impeccable despite the uneven ground. Years of training—wherever and whenever they had occurred—took over.
The girl noticed him as he approached, her gaze flickering with suspicion but quickly refocusing on the enemies before her. "Who—? Wait!" she called, but he was already in motion.
The skeletons were slow, their movements jerky, but their numbers made them a threat. His first strike was swift and precise, the dagger plunging into the ribcage of the nearest skeleton.
The blade found purchase between the bones, but the creature didn't falter. It swung its rusted sword at him, forcing him to duck and roll away. He cursed inwardly, instinctively touching the Colt New Agent at his side.
A shot rang out, the bullet striking the skeleton's skull. It cracked but didn't shatter, the undead creature merely staggering back. The gun wasn't effective, and he only had limited rounds. Holstering it, he shifted to close combat.
The dagger gleamed as he lunged again, this time targeting the creature's joints. With a calculated twist, he severed the skeletal arm holding the sword. The limb fell uselessly, and the creature crumbled soon after.
He pivoted, his motions a dance of survival as he moved to the next target.
Meanwhile, the girl—Mash Kyrielight—was a whirlwind of defense and offense. Her shield crushed bones with every swing, her precision honed to perfection. But even she couldn't help but steal glances at him. Who was this stranger? Their movements were sharp, efficient, yet entirely human. They weren't a Servant. That much was clear. But what were they?
A skeleton lunged at her blind spot, its jagged blade aiming for her back. She spun just in time, her shield intercepting the strike with a resounding crash. The force pushed her back a step, but she held firm. The stranger was suddenly beside her, their dagger slicing through the creature's exposed neck. Its head toppled, and the rest of its body collapsed.
The two moved in tandem, an unspoken rhythm forming between them. They would weaken the creatures with precise strikes, and she would deliver the finishing blow with her overwhelming strength. The horde thinned, the tide of battle shifting in their favor. Finally, with one last swing of her shield, Mash shattered the remaining skeleton into dust.
The street fell silent save for their labored breathing, the stranger's even more so than her. Mash turned to them, her shield still raised defensively. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm but not unkind. "Are you an enemy? A Master?"
He raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his dagger lowered but still ready. Her violet eyes narrowed, studying him carefully. There was something disarming about his appearance—his androgynous features and calm demeanor made it hard to see him as a threat.
But his silence unnerved her.
"You're not going to answer?" she asked, lowering her shield slightly. When he didn't respond, realization dawned. "You can't talk, can you?"
They nodded, their expression apologetic. Slowly, they sheathed their dagger and raised their hands again, this time forming deliberate signs. The movements were fluid, hands weaving a language she recognized but couldn't fully understand.
"Sign language?" Mash murmured, tilting her head. "I've read about it, but I'm not fluent…" She squinted, trying to decipher their gestures. "You're… not an enemy? You… don't know where you are?"
They nodded again, relief flashing in their lone eye as she pieced together their intentions. Her stance softened, though confusion lingered on her face. "You're not from Chaldea, are you?"
The shake of a head was answer enough. Her shoulders sagged, and she sighed. "This is… complicated. If only Senpai or the director were here, they'd know what to do…"
At the mention of "Senpai," the stranger's brow furrowed. They recognized the Japanese term but couldn't place its context. Their gestures questioned her: Who is Senpai?
Mash's eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. "S-Senpai is… my Master. Someone I need to find," she said quickly, her words tinged with urgency. "They're somewhere in this Singularity, and I have to reach them. Will you help me?"
Her gaze searched theirs, a mix of hope and uncertainty. For a moment, they simply stared, weighing her plea. Then, with a small, reassuring smile, they nodded. The gesture was simple, but it carried a promise: they would help.
Mash's blush deepened, though she quickly turned away to hide it. "Thank you," she said softly. "We should move quickly. Senpai might be in danger."
She adjusted her shield and took a step forward, glancing back at her newfound companion. They motioned for her to lead, their stride falling into step behind hers. The two navigated the desolate streets together, their destination unknown but their purpose shared.
As they walked, Mash couldn't help but steal glances at them. Despite the grim circumstances, there was something calming about their presence. Their silence spoke volumes in ways words couldn't. Perhaps, she thought, this stranger was exactly the ally she needed.
The fires burned on in the distance, their light guiding their path. Together, they set off to uncover the truth of this shattered world—and to find the answers they both sought.
For the first time in her life, Mash Kyrielight was outside the walls of Chaldea.
The thought struck her again as she adjusted her shield, its weight far lighter than it had any right to be given its sheer size. The ruined city around her was a nightmare—a bleak tableau of fire and ash, the ground scarred with cracks that glowed faintly with molten heat. She forced herself to move, to keep putting one foot in front of the other, the rhythmic thrum of her new power keeping her grounded amidst the chaos.
She didn't have time to dwell on the impossibility of what had happened. Rayshifting was a delicate procedure, one meticulously planned and executed by Chaldea's systems. That she had ended up here, in this burning hellscape, was a testament to how badly things had gone wrong.
Mash's thoughts drifted as her feet carried her over cracked pavement. She had been at Chaldea earlier today, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the brisk efficiency of the staff. It was supposed to have been a momentous occasion—the organization's first foray into the past to prevent the catastrophe SHEBA had detected. She remembered the excitement in the air, the tension that mingled with the anticipation.
Her assignment that day had been simple: report to the Director's meeting. She had been walking briskly down one of Chaldea's many hallways when she stumbled upon an unconscious girl on the floor—a Master candidate, no doubt. Mash had crouched down, her concern piqued, and gently shook the girl awake.
"Just Gudako, please," the redhead had mumbled sleepily, waving off Mash's formalities with a lopsided grin.
Despite her disheveled state, Gudako seemed pleasant enough. Mash had helped her up, but their encounter had been short-lived. The next thing Mash knew, Director Olga Marie Animusphere was unceremoniously tossing Gudako out of the meeting room with a mix of frustration and disdain.
Mash felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, but she had quickly pushed the thought aside. The Director's wrath was better aimed elsewhere, after all. She had returned to her duties, putting Gudako's misfortune out of her mind.
Then the explosion. The fire.
It had come from nowhere, ripping through Chaldea like a wildfire. Alarms blared, people screamed, and Mash... Mash had been caught in the epicenter. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt, a searing agony that tore through her body. She remembered falling, the world tilting as the flames consumed everything around her.
A hand grasped hers in the chaos, but she couldn't see who it belonged to. Her vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away. Then there was a voice—flat, toneless, devoid of any inflection. It said something she couldn't make out, and then she felt a sudden jerk.
When Mash opened her eyes, the pain was gone. In its place was strength, a raw and untamed power thrumming through her veins. Her vision cleared, and she realized she wasn't in Chaldea anymore. She was outside.
The armor she now wore was alien yet familiar, as if it had always been meant for her. The massive shield in her hands felt like an extension of herself, its surface glinting even in the dim light of the burning city. She had bonded with the Servant inside her, there was no doubt about it.
Then there was the pull—a faint but insistent tug in her chest that led her to Gudako. The girl had somehow found her way into the ruined control room, and in a desperate attempt to save Mash, had formed a Contract with her.
From there, everything blurred together: the first battles against the skeletal hordes, the overwhelming instinct to protect her new Master, the strange mix of emotions she couldn't fully attribute to herself or her Servant.
Contact with Dr. Roman had been a brief relief, but the joy of hearing his voice was overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the rest of Team A. Were they alive? Dead? There was no way to know.
Now, Gudako was missing again, and Mash was alone—save for the mute stranger who had appeared from nowhere to help her fend off the skeletons.
Mash glanced at the stranger as they moved through the burning city. They were silent, of course, but their presence was reassuring. They walked with a quiet confidence, their lone eye scanning their surroundings for threats. They didn't look like a Master candidate—Mash had grown up in Chaldea and knew every face there—but their combat skills were undeniable.
Finally, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer, Mash broke the silence. "Your eye," she said softly.
The stranger stopped walking and turned to her, brow arching slightly in question.
"I mean," Mash hesitated, unsure if she was being rude. "What happened to it?"
For a moment, they seemed taken aback. Then, slowly, they lifted a hand and gestured toward their covered eye. They mimed a slicing motion across their face and then held up two fingers, forming a small circle with them.
"An injury?" Mash guessed. "In a fight?"
They shrugged, lips pressing into a thin line.
Mash's gaze softened. "That must have been… hard."
They shrugged lightly, expression unreadable. Then they gestured again, pointing to their single eye and then sweeping their hand in a wide arc, as if to say, But I manage.
Mash smiled faintly. "I see. Judging from earlier, it doesn't seem to slow you down."
The stranger gave a short, almost playful nod, expression relaxing slightly.
Her next question came hesitantly. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice soft but clear.
The stranger tilted their head slightly, as if pondering how to respond. Then, slowly, he raised their hands and began gesturing.
Mash blinked, before looking away in embarrassment. "R-Right, can't speak… sorry." she murmured. "I… am not very familiar with it, like I said, I only recognize a few…"
The stranger nodded, their lips stretched to form a small smile, somehow managing to convey that they took no offense to her blunder. They placed a fist on their chest, above where the heart's supposed to be.
"Yes." Mash found herself nodding. "You're not an enemy, I trust that much."
They nodded, expression softening further.
"Still, where did you come from?" she asked next.
She saw the look of uncertainty settling on her companion's face, further reinforced by how pinched their soft features grew. Hesitation, she deduced.
They then made the universal gesture of a clueless person, the shrugging of shoulders followed by the shaking of head.
"So you don't know where you're from," she murmurs, continuing, "I don't want to assume but… do you even remember who you are?"
She sees the stranger's expression briefly faltering, as if they'd been caught in the act. The outline of their lips thinned, eyes widening ever so slightly.
It's the slow, dejected shake of his head that confirms her suspicion.
"An amnesiac…" Mash says, her voice low. "That's… not good."
That's probably an understatement. She could only imagine how confused they must be, yet despite their condition, they still did the brave thing and defeated those skeletons crowding her earlier.
"Just to be sure," she begins again, "you are not a Servant, are you?"
She's met with a look of confusion once again, their expression showing unfamiliarity when she uttered the term. To prove the point further, they mimicked a bowing gesture, folding one hand over the abdomen.
"No, not that kind of servant." Mash says, shaking her head. "A Servant, as in, spirits summoned by the Holy Grail? To participate in the Holy Grail War?"
The more she spoke, the more confused her companion got. That cemented her current companion's unusual nature even further. Even the least Magically-inclined staff of Chaldea were aware of the terminologies she mentioned, but not them.
Maybe they really had amnesia?.
"You fight like one," she said slowly, her mind racing to connect the dots. "A Servant, that is. Sort of, not really. But you're not…"
They mimed drawing a sword, the movements fluid and practiced. Then they pointed to themselves.
"You're... trained?" she guessed. "A fighter?"
The faint smile that tugged at the corner of their mouth told her she was on the right track.
Mash let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I see. You're not a Servant, but you know how to fight. And you're here to help me."
The stranger nodded once more.
Her gaze lingered on them for a moment. There was something about them that felt… steady. Reliable. But their method of communication was slow and cumbersome. With danger lurking around every corner, they couldn't afford to stop and decipher gestures in the middle of a fight.
"Let's save the rest of the questions for later," Mash said with a small smile. "Right now, we need to focus on finding Senpai. We're heading straight for the nearest leyline, chances are senpai and the Director are headed there too."
The stranger gave her a thumbs-up, his expression resolute.
"Ah… if you really don't mind me asking…" Mash begins, her cheeks flushing, "are you a boy or a girl?"
The stranger smiled before gesturing her the answer to her question.
"O-Oh."
The city was a ruined husk, consumed by the relentless flames that licked the sky. Once proud buildings lay in crumbled heaps of stone and ash, their jagged edges stark against the fiery backdrop. The air was thick with smoke, and the ground trembled with each quake that shook the land.
Ritsuka Fujimaru, or "Gudako" as she preferred to be called, couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
She wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this. She was just a kid who had stumbled upon a recruitment flier, a flier that led her to the Chaldea Security Organization.
One minute, she was an average student in high school, and the next, she was thrust into a chaotic, life-or-death struggle across time itself.
She had no combat experience, no training, and the only thing that made her a "Master Candidate" was her ability to follow orders. But now? Now she was expected to fight for her life.
And so she fought.
With a solid piece of rebar clutched in her trembling hands, she swung at another skeleton, the metal scraping against the creature's bony rib cage. It didn't stop its relentless advance, only shifting slightly before its hollow eyes refocused on her.
The noise of grinding bone echoed as the skeleton lurched forward again, jaws snapping hungrily for her. She had just enough time to slam the rebar into its face, but the next one was already charging her, followed by more from the ground.
Why did they keep coming?
"This is impossible!" she gasped, her breath ragged. "They just keep coming!"
"Then stop complaining and focus!" Olga snapped, her voice cutting through the chaos. The Director's once pristine attire was now singed and tattered, her face streaked with grime, but her sharp eyes burned with determination. She thrust out her hand, and a bolt of energy surged forth, slamming into a skeleton's chest and sending it crumpling to the ground.
Ritsuka panted, barely managing to sidestep another clawed swipe. "I'm just saying, for an apocalypse, they could at least give us a break!"
Olga turned to glare at her mid-spell. "If you have the energy to talk, you have the energy to fight!"
Another blast erupted from Olga's palm, the force obliterating three skeletons at once. Ritsuka winced as shards of bone flew past her face. She ducked and swung again, the jagged edge of the rebar tearing through the spine of another skeleton. Its torso crumbled, but its hands kept moving, clawing toward her ankles.
"Why won't you just stay dead?!" she screamed, stomping down on the crawling hands with a desperate ferocity. The bones splintered beneath her foot, finally going still.
The heat of the burning city pressed down on them like a suffocating blanket, and Ritsuka's body screamed for rest. But the skeletal horde showed no sign of relenting.
They emerged from the shadows, from alleyways, from beneath the cracked, molten ground. Each one moved with a chilling purpose, their clattering bones like the toll of a death knell.
Olga unleashed another barrage of spells, her voice strained. "We need to move! Standing here is suicide!"
Ritsuka glanced at her, then back at the swarm of undead closing in. "Where exactly are we supposed to go? They're everywhere!"
"The leyline!" Olga shouted, firing off a Gandr shot that hit a skeleton square in the skull. "If we can stabilize it, we might—argh!"
Her sentence was cut off as a claw grazed her arm. She staggered, clutching the wound, her spell faltering.
"Director!" Ritsuka cried, rushing to shield her. She swung her rebar wildly, forcing the skeleton back. The crude weapon vibrated in her hands as it struck bone, but she held firm, gritting her teeth against the shock of impact.
"Don't just stand there!" Olga hissed, already regaining her composure. With her free hand, she fired another Gandr bolt, disintegrating the attacking skeleton.
Ritsuka's chest heaved as she backed up, her legs trembling. "We can't keep this up. There's too many—"
Her words were drowned out by the rumbling of the earth beneath them. The ground cracked and split, molten light spilling forth as even more skeletons clawed their way into the world. Ritsuka stared in horror as the horde doubled in size.
"This is so unfair!" she shouted, her voice cracking.
"Shut up and fight!" Olga barked, but even she looked pale.
The next wave hit like a storm. Ritsuka swung her rebar again and again, the vibrations numbing her hands. She smashed one skeleton's ribs, kicked another in the knee to unbalance it, and ducked just as a third swiped at her head. She fought like a cornered animal, every movement fueled by desperation.
Nearby, Olga unleashed a furious barrage of magic. Her Gandr orbs struck with pinpoint precision, blasting apart skeleton after skeleton. Invisible bullets whizzed through the air, each one finding its mark. Despite her impeccable aim, sweat poured down her face, and her breathing grew ragged.
"They just keep coming," Olga muttered through clenched teeth. Her voice, usually commanding, carried a tinge of fear.
Ritsuka wasn't faring much better. Her arms felt like lead, her strikes slower and weaker. For every skeleton she took down, two more took its place.
"This is it," she thought grimly. "We're going to die here."
The thought paralyzed her for a moment too long. A skeleton lunged at her, its claws outstretched. She raised her rebar, but her muscles betrayed her, too slow to block the attack.
Before it could reach her, a massive shield slammed into its side, sending it flying.
"Senpai!"
She turned to see Mash Kyrielight – her Kouhai – standing there, her pink hair streaked with ash but her eyes blazing with determination. Her massive shield gleamed, unscathed by the chaos around them.
"Mash!" Ritsuka cried, relief flooding her voice.
The young Demi-Servant stood tall, her massive shield gleaming even in the dim firelight. Her purplish-pink hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat, but her violet eyes burned with determination.
"I'm here! Are you okay?" Mash asked, positioning herself in front of Ritsuka.
Before Ritsuka could respond, another figure darted into view—a white-clad stranger who moved like a shadow. Their dagger flashed in the firelight as they struck with surgical precision, dismantling a skeleton with a single fluid motion.
"Who—" Ritsuka started, but her words were drowned out by the chaos.
The stranger moved with uncanny speed, the outline of their shape trailing behind them as they darted between enemies. Their dagger sliced through the weathered bones with ease, and when they weren't cutting, they were firing their gun with pinpoint accuracy. Each shot shattered a skeleton's skull or severed a crucial joint, leaving it vulnerable for Mash to finish off with her shield.
Ritsuka watched, stunned, as the two worked in tandem. Mash's shield swung in wide arcs, crushing everything in its path, while the stranger moved like a ghost, their strikes precise and lethal.
"Don't just stand there!" Olga snapped, blasting another skeleton apart. "Focus on the fight!"
The skeletons surged again, their clattering bones filling the air with a deafening cacophony. Ritsuka forced herself to move, swinging her rebar at the nearest enemy. It wasn't elegant, but it was enough to break through its ribcage and send it crumpling.
"Director, behind you!" Mash's urgent warning cut through the chaos.
Olga turned just in time to see two skeletons lunging at her. Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face as she realized she couldn't raise a defensive spell in time.
Ritsuka froze, her heart leaping into her throat.
And then the stranger moved.
With a flick of their wrist, they hurled their dagger high into the air. Ritsuka watched, confused, as it spun above Olga's head.
"What the—"
The gunshot was deafening. The bullet struck the spinning dagger, ricocheting perfectly. The blade split the bullet in two, each fragment slamming into the skulls of the attacking skeletons.
The creatures collapsed, lifelessly across the ground.
Before anyone could react, the stranger dashed forward, catching the dagger mid-fall with an effortless grace that left Ritsuka staring. In one fluid motion, they adopted a low CQC stance, their dagger held at the ready as his eyes scanned for further threats.
Mash wasted no time, sweeping in with her shield to finish them off. The sound of her weapon striking bone echoed like thunder, and the two skeletons crumbled into dust.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the crackling of distant flames and the ragged breathing of the survivors.
Ritsuka stared at the stranger, her chest still heaving. "Wha...what the hell was that?"
Olga clutched her wounded arm, glaring at the stranger. "You'd better have an explanation for—"
Mash stepped forward, her expression calm but firm. "I'll explain everything later. For now, just know he's on our side. He can't...speak for himself."
Ritsuka blinked, exhaustion clouding her thoughts. "Wait. What, is he mute or something?"
Mash gave a wry smile. "Something like that."
As the dust settled and the tension eased, Ritsuka couldn't help but glance at the stranger again. His silent strength, his precision—it was almost unreal.
"Now, hold on," everyone turned to look at the white haired woman, her lips curled into a scowl. "I don't know who or what you are, but I demand answers," she snapped, her voice cutting through the quiet like a whip. "Who are you, and what are you doing here? Speak!"
The stranger—lean, androgynous, and eerily calm in the face of Olga's fury—offered no response. They simply stared at her, unreadable.
Ritsuka shifted awkwardly beside Mash, glancing at Olga, then at the stranger. "Uh, Olga… I don't think they can—"
Mash stepped forward, holding up a hand to cut Ritsuka off. Her voice was steady, calm, as she addressed Olga. "Director, please. He's mute."
"Huh?" Ritsuka did a double take at the reveal. She blinked, properly looking at the—him again. "Damn. Damn."
Olga blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Mute?" she echoed, her brow furrowing.
"Yes," Mash continued. "He can't speak, and he's suffering from amnesia. I don't believe he meant us harm."
"Amnesia?" Ritsuka said, raising an eyebrow. She tilted her head at the stranger, her curiosity evident. "You're saying he doesn't remember anything?"
Mash nodded. "That's right. He's been assisting me since we arrived, but he hasn't shown any signs of aggression toward us. If anything, he's been helping us survive."
Olga wasn't convinced. Her pale blue eyes narrowed as she took a step closer to the stranger, scrutinizing them with a piercing glare. "How convenient," she muttered, her voice dripping with suspicion. "A complete unknown with no memory, no explanation, just happens to show up in the middle of this disaster? For all we know, he could be responsible for what's happening here."
The accusation hung heavy in the air. Ritsuka frowned, glancing at Mash, who was visibly uncomfortable with Olga's tone.
The stranger, meanwhile, didn't flinch under Olga's scrutiny, but his jaw tightened ever so slightly. His posture stiffened, and his lone visible eye—calm and detached until now—narrowed just enough to betray their irritation.
"He doesn't seem too happy with you accusing him," Ritsuka muttered to Olga, trying to defuse the situation with a touch of humor. It fell flat.
Olga ignored her, continuing to drill into the stranger. "If you think I'm just going to trust someone with no name, no past, and no allegiance, you're sorely mistaken," she hissed. "If you want to prove you're not a threat, you'd better start cooperating."
The stranger shifted slightly, folding his arms in a way that was clearly deliberate. Though he couldn't speak, his body language was loud enough: he didn't appreciate being berated.
Before the tension could escalate further, Olga's bracelet flickered to life, casting a faint blue glow.
"Finally!" a familiar, exasperated voice crackled through the static. "Can you hear me? Director? Mash? Fujimaru?"
Olga glanced at her wrist, her expression darkening further. "Roman," she said through clenched teeth. "Your timing couldn't be worse."
The holographic image of Dr. Roman appeared, distorted but recognizable. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced with one of palpable stress. "The signal's still unstable, but I've been trying to reach you for minutes now. What's going on? Did you make it to the leyline?"
Olga groaned, rubbing her temple. "No, Roman, we're still in the middle of this nightmare, surrounded by death and fire. And now, I have to deal with this," she said, jerking her thumb toward the silent stranger.
Roman's projection blinked, squinting at the figure standing stoically behind Mash and Ritsuka. "Uh… wow, beautiful," everyone, sans the stranger himself, rolled their eyes at the doctor's slip up, "I-I mean, who's that?"
"Exactly my point," Olga snapped. "Some random mute with no memory just happened to show up and save us. Mash seems to think he's an ally, but I'm not convinced."
"Director," Mash said firmly, her voice rising slightly. "He's done nothing to harm us. In fact, he has saved our lives more than once. I don't think it's fair to treat him like a threat."
Ritsuka chimed in, nodding. "Yeah. I mean, if the—he wanted to hurt us, wouldn't he have done it by now? You saw what he can do."
Roman's voice interrupted before Olga could reply. "Look, as much as I'd love to hear you argue about this, there's no time. You need to get to the leyline. I'll be able to stabilize the connection from there and give you proper support. If you stay where you are, you're sitting ducks."
Olga sighed deeply, her frustration evident. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. She turned to Mash, her tone sharp. "You—keep an eye on him. I don't want him out of your sight, not for a second. Understood?"
Mash hesitated, her expression conflicted, but she nodded. "Understood, Director."
Olga spun on her heel, muttering to herself as she began leading the way toward the leyline. Mash lingered for a moment, her gaze softening as she turned to the stranger.
"I'm sorry about her," she said quietly. "She's… under a lot of pressure. I hope you can understand."
The stranger gave a slight nod, expression relaxing just enough to show that he wasn't one to hold a grudge.
"Good," Mash said, offering a small smile.
Ritsuka, standing nearby, couldn't help but chuckle. "She's always like that, isn't she?" she said, jerking her thumb toward Olga.
Mash gave her a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Let's just say she has high standards."
As the group began moving again, Ritsuka fell into step beside the stranger. She glanced at him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "So, uh… do you have a name?" she asked awkwardly.
The stranger hesitated for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he shook his head.
"No name, huh?" Ritsuka said, her voice softening. "Well… we'll figure something out."
The stranger didn't respond, but there was something in his one-eyed gaze—something unspoken, a quiet acknowledgment of her words.
And with that, the group pressed onward, their footsteps echoing through the ruins of Fuyuki as the fires burned on.
Chapter End
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