077 - The Last Stretch
Olga Marie Animusphere
"The strike of justice that crushes evil…!"
"[Sword of Light: Atrahasis Super Nova - Romance of Friendship, Courage and Light]"
Amazing…
After bullying having Roman replay Haku's latest stunt for her, that's the only word that comes to mind. Just watching the Last Master make her way to the rogue Purple Lancer had been somehow even more nerve-wracking than their own fight against Ibuki Douji. It had been so damn close, if it wasn't for the assistance of Crimson Rider… Olga doesn't want to know what could've happened.
To think Romulus-Quirinus had the means to so easily shut down Haku's best tricks… No, she's being unfair there. It's only to be expected that a Servant would effortlessly crush a human opponent, but Haku's habit to stubbornly pull it off anyway has left Olga's expectations skewed. And, well, when you come down to it…
"Hers was the rallying salvo,
A scream into the cold, uncaring darkness.
That friendship mattered and bonds mattered,
With an all-cleansing light that pierced the heavens."
(A shiver of sheer awe runs down her spine.)
Haku did pull it off, in the end. Didn't she?
"Amazing…" Mashu mutters in wonder, unwittingly verbalizing Olga's own thoughts. "Senpai is too amazing!"
"My, such a beautiful performance!" Marie comments cheerfully, somehow looking fabulous and smelling like flowers in spite of the frantic and violent combat they just came out of. "Master sure knows how to put up a show!"
"Fufun~!" Elizabeth rests her hands on her hips and puffs her chest up with pride, looking… considerably worse for wear, in spite of being the hero of the hour. "I wouldn't expect anything less of P-san!"
The Projection of a Spirit Origin is… theoretically feasible, but it's always been considered in the same realm of feasibility as using quantum tunneling to phase through physical objects. That is to say, far too niche in application to justify the work required to reliably pull it off. And most definitely not something one could pull off without either a dedicated Mystic Code, generations of hard work crystalized into a Family Crest or obscene amounts of talent on the field. Preferably all three.
"Compared to her, what we achieved here…" Mashu continues, eyes drifting over the slowly calming ocean around them. "It doesn't really feel like much, does it?"
"Ah, that's right!" Elizabeth gasps in indignant realization. "P-san totally outstaged me! That's not cool at all!"
As the self-centered Servant starts working herself up for a rant, Olga reflects on how, for once, she can't bring herself to feel irritated with her.
"That's enough of that, we're done here." She rolls her eyes, speaking up before the girl can truly build up steam. "Let's link up with Haku and the other Re'em cultists, we need to figure out what comes next. The Grail hasn't yet been located, this is still an active crisis."
The mood goes down a bit at the reminder, but nobody complains as Marie resummons her glass horses and everyone gets ready to move. Thinking about the last few minutes of conversation, Olga finds herself frowning for a moment before nodding to herself. She then closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and…
"For the record." She calls out, snapping her eyes open right as everyone turns their attention to her. "What you achieved here today was absolutely praiseworthy. I'm sure Haku will agree once she rejoins us, but allow me to be the first to say it. Good work, everyone."
"Yes, Lady Director!"
"Yes, Lady Director!"
"Yes, Lady Director!"
… Huh, that response felt incredibly satisfying to hear.
Matou Sakura
The four of them feel it the moment it happens.
Like sand slipping between her fingers or a liquid pouring down their bodies without finding any purchase. The role enforced upon them, the mantle of Empress they have been forced to wear for far too long, slips off their shoulders, taking away both burdens and privileges.
Rome has crowned a new Emperor, and neither of them were the chosen ones.
The War of Crimson and Purple comes to an end. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
Or maybe, Sakura reflects as her eyes wander in the direction of the blue star that for a moment managed to eclipse the sun itself… Maybe it did end with a roar. It just wasn't their roar.
To her side, Medusa returns to her more familiar older appearance, Chrysaor replaced by her old chained nails and her elaborate Saber clothes morphing back into that deliciously scandalous short dress she favors as a Rider. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as she does, her whole body relaxing in a way she hasn't for months.
The same thing happens to Altera in front of her, her titanic Goddess Aspect getting swallowed by blinding white light as it shrinks back into the less imposing form of her Warrior Aspect. Altera is even harder to read than Medusa, but she too looks relieved at the chance to finally stop acting.
For a moment, nobody speaks up, They're all too busy luxuriating in the feeling of freedom.
"Well, this is it." Nee-san finally breaks the silence. "The Head Wife did it again."
"And it didn't even take her nearly dying to pull it off this time." Sakura can't help but add. "Looks like she can learn."
"Like you're one to talk." Nee-san snipes at her with a dismissive snort and a snide smirk. "That would've never happened without your help."
"How rude, I can talk because I was involved!" She takes her hand to her heart in faux indignation. "That means I have an insider's perspective."
"If you're quite done with that, we still need to get out of here." Medusa interjects, Sakura doesn't need to see through the woman's blindfold to know she's rolling her eyes. "And we're maybe letting out too much where anyone could overhear."
"The ruse won't hold forever." Sakura shakes her head, remembering Haku's words from last night. Part of the ruse, at least. The truly nitty-gritty details are safe as long as nobody outright blurts them out where the enemy's sight can reach. "And I'm sure Nee-san wouldn't trap us inside a ritual duel to the death without the means to break out if she truly needs to. Surely. Probably. Possibly. Maybe. Nee-san is known to mess up from time to time."
"Who's being rude now? Of course I have a way to get us out of here." Nee-san grumbles good-naturedly, fishing into her dress to pull out a beautifully-cut ruby. One that's positively brimming with magical energy. "This is my life. It also happens to make up the foundation of this particular spell circle."
Without another word, Nee-san simply crushes it on her hand, causing the Magical Circle enforcing their duel to peter out and die.
"There, I 'died', the duel is over." She shrugs with a smile, grabbing a small cloth bag and carefully placing all the cracked ruby fragments inside in a display of typical miser Nee-san behavior. "Congratulations, Sakura, it looks like you finally managed to beat your big sister."
"You build a conceptual link between yourself and the ruby, so it would pay the price for you." Sakura's own smile doesn't waver at Nee-san's taunt. If anything, it grows sweeter, because she knows exactly how to get back at her. "Voodoo?"
The condescending smile on Nee-san's lips twitches violently.
"Sympathetic magic goes beyond mere 'Voodoo'!" She squawks indignantly. "I'm simply using the same basic principle! In a far more efficient way, I would add!"
Sakura's smile grows wider, eyes closing to simply enjoy the sheer familiarity of the moment. After months waging war against the Crimson Empress, it's good to have Nee-san back.
Demon God Pillar Flauros
Well now, this is… (outrageous) (infuriating) (inconvenient) (vexing) unexpected.
To think so many of his plans and preparations would become undone at the very last moment like this… The Evil Mountain God, defeated by a convergence of sheer improbability that simply boggles the mind. The Dark Lord, refusing to take his role seriously, daring to play him for a fool and making moves of its own before walking out of the stage on its own initiative. The interlopers he so elegantly had caught in the strings of narrative, set free once more, their chains rendered obsolete by merits not their own.
The little props are making a mockery out of his script once again.
He has done his best to put on a show worth the occasion, something elegant and creative. He put his best foot forward to ensure the filth known as humanity would at least enjoy a closing act worth remembering. But they keep insisting on dragging him down to their level.
Fine… fine!
If that's how they want to play, if that's the sort of story they want to perform, then that's the sort of ending they will get!
Brute force and blind violence, blood spilled without rhyme or reason as everything goes down in flames. Overwhelming power that cares for nothing but destruction, like a blunt dullard swinging around an even duller blunt instrument.
Defying fate comes at a price, and the interlopers are exhausted to the last after their unsightly struggles. Nobody, not even the Crimson Interloper and her infuriating Servant, are in any state to oppose his last trump anymore!
A summon prepared well in advance, what should've been the crown piece of his performance, had things played out as they should have.
"Come forth from the Ring of Restraint!" He calls out viciously, victoriously, venomously. "The Great King of Destruction! The Scourge of God! Attila the Hun!"
"Servant Saber, Attila the Hun." His last piece states out evenly once the asinine light show of summoning dies down. "The power of the God of War rests with me. Prosperity ends here."
"Yes! They are the ones who forced my hand! No more games, no more ploys, just blind destruction with overwhelming power." Flauros cries out victoriously, pointing his trump card towards the interlopers. "Go forth and show them what that means! Destroy until there's nothing left!"
*Squelch*
For a moment, everything stops. Incomprehension fills Flauros' mind and he can only stare down, at the tri-color blade of light sticking out of the chest of his false form. It should do nothing, it should mean nothing. This body is but a mask, a costume, nothing but makeup for his perfect true self nestled deep inside, and yet…
The blade that ran him through is more than just a mere sword and, as it glows with power…
"The light… it's eating me from the inside!" He roars in a (panic) outrage. "What have you done, Scourge of God?"
"The only thing I can do. The thing you commanded me to do." Is the cold, detached answer. "To destroy."
Altera (Warrior)
The leader of the Chaldeans, that cute girl called Olga, had already warned everyone that the crisis wouldn't be over until the Grail was found and neutralized and pacified. But everyone else seemed to believe that's a distant worry, something that can be set aside while they celebrate this victory, something that will patiently wait until they make the next move.
Even Medusa, always alert and wary, seems to have been swept in the general mood of relief and relaxation this time. But not Altera. Even as Master was freed from her chains. Even as they linked up with the Chaldeans. Even as they finally met with Haku again… She couldn't bring herself to relax.
Without the power boost from her role as the Champion of the Purple Empress, maintaining her Goddess aspect at the forefront is too taxing. That means she can't read the flow of combat as well as she once could, but every instinct she has is yelling at her that they aren't out of the woods just yet.
"Lady Director! A new Servant has been summoned into the Singularity!" The holographic man pops up again, a panicked expression on his face. "It's making a beeline towards your position at incredible speeds and their Spirit Origin… It's nearly identical to Altera's!"
As if on cue, a familiar power makes itself known as a certain unmistakable figure comes into view. It slowly walks up a hill until her whole body comes into view, before raising a tri-colored blade over her head.
"To the me who isn't 'me'
Mind doesn't know who you are.
But bone shivers and blood sings.
You are 'myself', my stronger self.
And yet…
Here in, this day, in this place.
There's no way you will beat me.
For my sword and I are one
To destroy.
And rising yours is a struggle against your very being.
To protect.
You seem to have forgotten.
Our nature.
Our truth.
Our existence heralds the end.
We save nothing.
We bless nothing.
We protect nothing.
We just destroy…
Completely."
Ah, that is… the one she dreamed of, so long ago. 'The me who isn't me', as her other self so aptly put it. The Velver Corpus that remained dormant on Earth for millennia before awakening as a machine of destruction who never had the chance to grow into more. Not a true match for the Crimson Champion but… as things stand now, with everyone spent and exhausted?
It looks like Altera's worries were proven true, after all.
I have no intention of hiding my work behind a pay wall, but I do welcome patrons and donations.
I have a P-treon thing! A Ko-fi account too!
Just add "/Planeshunter" after the dot com and it should take you straight there.
If you have some spare change and feel my work deserves it, please consider throwing it my way.
