"A one-way staring match won't do anything, my Demon Queen. They won't be waking up any sooner."

Already used to her eternal follower's uncanny ability to appear anytime and anywhere without a sign or hint, Olga simply leaned back into her chair with a heavy sigh, "Am I not allowed to worry about my closest friends, Woz? You know, considering the fact that last time I saw them normal was them dying in front of my eyes?"

The co-Director of Chaldea could just feel the low hum in her too tired bones as the herald took a step forward to stand directly next to her. "It's natural to feel that way, given recent events. However, that does not change the fact that staring at Geiz and Tsukyomi can't change their current state."

Instead of directly acknowledging Woz's sound logic, Olga simply bit her lip in worry as her amber eye still refused to leave the slumbering forms of Geiz and Tsukyomi on the clean, pure white beds of the infirmary.

As soon as they returned from the Scandinavia Lostbelt, Olga first act was to swiftly—but carefully, of course—move the unmoving forms of her thought-to-be-dead friends into Chaldea's medical bay, making sure every medical expert nearby was put on them the moment they were brought inside, with her command being that they were to be monitored 24/7 and to be informed if there was any change to their state the moment they showed any signs of such.

It felt like an eternity since then, yet no such signs or even a bloody hint that they weren't vegetables at this point.

Olga bit her lip hard enough to sting, her hands clenching the armrests of her chair. She hated this feeling—this helplessness that Singularity F embedded in her and thought was rid of since her ascension until now.

"Staring won't bring them back, yet here they are," Olga murmured, her voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the infirmary. Her amber eyes remained glued to the two motionless figures. "After everything that happened... after I saw them die with my own eyes... I didn't expect..." She trailed off, biting her lip as if the words were too painful to say.

Woz tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he observed her. Though his usual air of detached assurance was present, there was an undercurrent of genuine sympathy in his gaze. "It is a cruel twist of fate," he said softly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "To witness the loss of those closest to you, only for them to return in a state like this… It would unnerve even the strongest of rulers."

Olga's head snapped up at that, her amber eyes narrowing as if she could glare away at the weight of his words. "What's your point, Woz?" she asked, her voice sharp with frustration. "And don't start with your cryptic timelines and riddles. Not now."

"My point, my Demon Queen—" he began, stepping to the front so that he was fully in her line of sight, "—is that while your concern is valid, your despair cannot take root. You are not merely a bystander in these chaotic times; you are a leader. Your followers look to you, even now, for guidance and strength."

She clenched her fists, a wave of guilt washing over her. She wanted to argue, to insist that she wasn't wallowing, but the truth hung heavy between them. Woz wasn't wrong, and that fact only irritated her more.

"You talk like this is just another routine mess," Olga snapped with forced heat in her voice. "It's been a whole week—a whole week since I got my best friends back in my life—and they're still stuck like this. I can still feel what it was like to lose them to Swartz, like it happened yesterday. And now, by some twisted-up miracle, though some strange miracle I managed to get them back only to see them like… this? It's a sick, cruel joke by time itself and I hate to find out what the punchline will be."

Woz regarded her calmly, his ever-present composure unshaken. "I understand more than you think," he said, his tone carrying an odd weight. "But your burden does not exist in isolation. The world itself is in flux. Time, as we know it, is being rewritten as we speak."

Olga frowned, the words prickling at her mind like needles. "What do you mean, rewritten?"

Instead of answering immediately, Woz reached into the folds of his coat and retrieved his book. The familiar, ornate tome glinted under the sterile infirmary lights, its pages alive with strange, flowing text that Olga couldn't decipher.

But then she saw it.

"What the…" Olga's voice trailed off, near speechless at what she was seeing.

It seems that the punchline has arrived.

Kadoc leaned back against the cold, metallic wall of his cell, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. The dim light above cast faint shadows that danced across the stark, barren room. Opposite him, Ophelia sat cross-legged on her cot, her gaze distant as if lost in another world.

"You know," Kadoc muttered, breaking the oppressive silence. "For a pair of failures, we've sure been given a lot of time to stew on it. You'd think they'd drag us out for answers by this point."

Ophelia glanced his way, her singular blue eye piercing through the dimness with a faint glimmer of regret and frustration. "Is that your idea of making conversation?" she asked, her voice low and weary. "Because it's not helping."

Kadoc rolled his eyes. "Was it supposed to?" He leaned back against the wall, his gaze turning upwards at the ceiling as he recalled the past few weeks. "I was just thinking about... everything. Us Crypters were given another shot at life, and we blew it. Our Lostbelts are gone; everything we worked for to that point was erased like they never even existed."

Ophelia stiffened at his words, though her face still betrayed little. She closed her eye, exhaling softly. "That was always the point; the fate of our Lostbelts was always sealed. It would either be at Chaldea's hands or Lord Kirschtaria. Now we're here, waiting for whatever judgment they've decided for us."

The silence returned, stretching taut between them until Kadoc spoke again, his tone laced with nervous curiosity. "What do you think about Olga? How the hell is she even alive after what happened in Singularity F? It doesn't make any sense."

Ophelia frowned, her brow furrowing as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "She feels… different," she admitted hesitantly. "The Olga we knew back then— as our director— was a simple magus, albeit one clearly out of her depth given how little Marisbury seemed to have prepared her or even told her of everything regarding Chaldea for when she took over. This Olga… she's something else entirely. Back then, I tried using my eye on her but… it's as if reality itself is bending around her, like time is warping to accommodate her presence."

Kadoc blinked, then snorted. "Time warping? That's your theory? What does that even mean?"

"...I don't know," Ophelia admitted quietly, her tone thoughtful rather than defensive. "It's just a feeling I get when I'm near her. Like she's not just a person anymore. She's something bigger. Like a monarch walking among subjects who unconsciously bow without knowing why."

Kadoc rubbed his temples, sighing. "Great. As if this situation wasn't crazy enough, now you're throwing time-travelling royalty theories at me. Just what I needed to ease my nerves."

Ophelia offered a faint, bitter smile. "It's not nerves, Kadoc. It's fear of the unknown. And if I'm right about Olga…" She trailed off, leaving the implication hanging heavily in the air.

"So what happens next?" Kadoc finally asked, his voice undercurrent with slight anxiety. Olga had already shown she did not take their betrayal kindly. "For us, for her… for whatever the hell is left after all this?"

Neither had an answer, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them like an unseen hand. Before they could dwell further, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, accompanied by the metallic clink of keys.

The cell doors swung open simultaneously, revealing two Chaldean magus who stepped inside. "On your feet," one barked. "You're being moved."

Kadoc and Ophelia exchanged a quick glance, their shared unease unspoken but understood. Without protest, they rose, each escorted by a guard in opposite directions. The hallway stretched ahead like an endless void, the faint sound of footsteps and murmurs of their only companions as they were separated.

For Kadoc, the air felt heavier with every step, a gnawing anxiety building in his chest. He didn't look back, though he couldn't shake the lingering question that haunted him: 'What happens next?'

For Ophelia, her thoughts turned to Olga once more, her words to Kadoc echoing in her mind. 'Time itself bends for her… But why?'

Gordolf stood silently in the observation room, his arms crossed as he watched Kadoc and Ophelia being escorted down separate corridors on the monitor. The faint hum of machinery filled the room, punctuated by the occasional tap of keys from the two Da Vincis directly behind him. Their sharp focus on the screens mirrored his own, though his thoughts were far from the technical details they busied themselves with.

"Seven Masters," Gordolf muttered, his voice low but resonant, "Chosen to save humanity... and instead, they turned against it."

Caster Da Vinci glanced at him, pausing her work. "Still trying to untangle the why of it all?"

Gordolf didn't turn to her, his eyes fixed on the monitors. In one feed, Kadoc shifted uneasily in his seat, his nervous energy manifesting in the restless tapping of his foot. In the other, Ophelia sat with stiff composure, her single eye forward, betraying no hint of the thoughts undoubtedly racing through her mind.

"They were supposed to be the best of us," Gordolf continued, his tone heavy with frustration and something deeper—betrayal. "Seven Masters handpicked to shepherd humanity through its greatest trial. And yet, when the time came, they didn't just falter. They sold us out. Sold themselves out. All for this Foreign God."

Rider Da Vinci leaned back in her chair, arms crossed as she studied the monitor. "People don't betray their own species on a whim. There's always a reason, no matter how twisted or desperate it might be."

Gordolf shook his head slowly, his expression hardening. "If there is a reason, it's buried so deep in their hearts they'd rather destroy the world than admit it. That's what makes them dangerous."

"And intriguing," The elder Da Vinci added. "Danger and intrigue often go hand in hand. You wouldn't be so focused on them if they weren't worth the effort."

Gordolf finally turned to face her, his towering frame casting long shadows across the room. "Effort or not, Olga and Ritsuka are the ones who'll have to get to the truth. If it's even there to find. They'll need to dig deeper than ever before."

The younger Da Vinci tilted her head thoughtfully. "You think they're up to it? This isn't exactly a standard interrogation. The Crypters aren't your average enemies."

"And unknowns are always the most dangerous pieces on the board."

Gordolf turned back to the monitors, his gaze focused on the two captive Crypters. "We've seen what happens when the unknowns are left unchecked," he spoke quietly, his voice heavy with meaning. "This time, we'll uncover every secret they're hiding. Every lie, every fear, every thread of betrayal." The room fell into silence once more, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. "They'll face the consequences of their choices soon enough," Gordolf continued to murmur, almost to himself. "And we'll see if there's anything left in them worth saving."

A heavy silence followed, only broken by the younger Da Vinci tapping a pen against her chin. "Well, if there is something left worth saving, I hope it's more interesting than Kadoc's sulking. Watching that monitor feels like staring at a wet piece of cardboard."

"Cardboard is more useful," The elder Da Vinci quipped, not looking up from her station. "At least you can use it to make a model or cushion something fragile."

"Oh, so we're suddenly the authority on cardboard now?" The younger Da Vinci shot back, mock indignation in her tone. "Because last time I checked, you couldn't tell corrugated from plain if your life depended on it."

The elder Da Vinci rolled her eyes. "I invented at least three dozen methods for manufacturing cardboard. I think I know what I'm talking about."

"Sure, and I'm the one who figured out how to recycle it into something actually useful. Don't even start with me on who's done more for cardboard."

Gordolf pinched the bridge of his nose as the two geniuses descended into a bickering match over the merits of corrugated materials. "Da Vinci," he growled, his voice cutting through their banter like a blade.

Both Da Vincis stopped mid-argument and turned to him in unison.

"Yes?" They replied simultaneously, completely unfazed.

"You're both geniuses," Gordolf said, the exasperation dripping from his tone. "Literal manifestations of one of humanity's greatest minds."

"Correct!" The younger Da Vinci chirped, beaming.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," The elder added with a smirk.

Gordolf sighed, rubbing his temples. "And yet here you are, arguing over cardboard." He gestured at the monitors, where Kadoc was slouching in his chair while Ophelia glared at the plain walls of her room. "While the fate of the world hangs by a thread, no less."

"Well," The younger Da Vinci said, tilting her head playfully, "if we can't solve humanity's existential crisis and win a debate about cardboard, then what are we even doing here?"

"Clearly not enough recycling," The elder Da Vinci deadpanned.

Gordolf groaned, throwing his head back and muttering under his breath, "We are most definitely doomed."

The two Da Vincis exchanged a look, then broke into identical mischievous grins.

"Not doomed," The younger one said brightly, "Just creatively challenged!"

"Exactly," The elder agreed. "And we're the perfect candidates to solve that challenge."

Gordolf dropped his arms in defeat and turned back to the monitors, muttering, "If these two are the best minds humanity has to offer, maybe the Crypters had a point…"

The Da Vincis burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room as Gordolf stared at the screens, silently praying to the Root for patience. At any rate, it was time for the interrogation to begin as the doors to both rooms opened and two people stepped in each.

When the door opened, Ophelia was surprised to see who was coming in. She didn't show her emotions though as Ritsuka and Mash took the seats across from her. "I was expecting the Director herself to be here," she stated with little emotion showing. "Am I right in assuming she's with Kadoc right now?"

"Yes," Ritsuka nodded. "This is not really our first meeting, but—"

"You've apologized enough before," Ophelia cut him off. She already heard enough from him when he delivered their food for the last few days. "It's pointless. There's nothing wrong with keeping your enemy captive."

"...Why did you betray Chaldea?" Mash tore the bandage right off. "You and the other members of Team A— why did you betray us?"

The sad gaze Mash was giving her made Ophelia fidget in her seat. She was no longer sure if she'd rather have Mash here or the literal woman who shot her in the head. Ophelia did her best to ignore Mash's presence and focus solely on Ritsuka. "We chose to follow Lord Kirchtaria; that's all the reason we needed. Between the organization that got us blown up and the one who saved our lives, which were we supposed to follow."

"Lev Lainur was a traitor. You're making it sound like the Director was the one who wanted all of you dead. In case you didn't know, the person he wanted to kill most was Olga herself." Ophelia had to admit he had a point, but it didn't change her answer. "Who is this Foreign God then? Why did they destroy humanity and plant the Lostbelts?"

"Did you not hear Lord Kirchtaria's message?" Was her blunt reply. "It's to create a world greater than Proper Human History."

Her answer only made Ritsuka frown. "I've been to your Lostbelt, and Kadoc's too. There was nothing about it better than what we had."

"..." Ophelia had to pause as she thought her next words carefully. "My Lostbelt and Kadoc's were the more obvious losers in history. You've yet to see what the other Crypters have."

"Maybe you're right. We don't know the bigger picture yet." She was again surprised at his admission. "Enlighten us then. Help us see why destroying humanity was worth whatever world could come out of the Lostbelts."

"…I already said, we chose to follow Lord Kirchtaria. What he believes in is worth everything," Ophelia repeated her earlier reasoning. "If he believes Proper Human History is broken and needs to be replaced with something better, then that's what Crypters believes too." Her continued loyalty to the leader of the former Team A made them both fall silent (well, for Mash to remain silent).

After a few moments, "What did he do to deserve such loyalty?"

"What he needed to do: he was loyal to us," Ophelia answered with a determined look in her eyes.

Ritsuka must have realized it was pointless going down that road now as he switched gears and asked something else. "You still haven't said anything about the Foreign God. What are they?"

"If I say none of us know either, would you believe me?" She replied with one of her own. "In exchange for being revived by them, they only asked for our help. All I can tell you is that they're not from Proper Human History as far as any of us Crypter learned."

"Is that so…?" Ritsuka hummed. Ophelia didn't know whether he was good at telling when people were telling the truth or just gullible. Either way, she had to appreciate how his attitude was letting the interrogation go smoothly.

Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, Kadoc was grateful when someone finally entered the sterile room. The silence was beginning to gnaw at his sanity.

"And here I thought you lot were going to leave me here by myself as some new form of torture," the white-haired young man quipped bitingly. His eyes flicked to Olga and the tall man standing beside her, a book in hand—a man who, judging by the descriptions he'd overheard, could only be Woz. "Not that you have the stomach for that kind of thing."

"Maybe we will, depending on how things go here," Olga replied coolly as she took her seat at the table. Woz remained standing, looming at her side like a silent sentinel. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all."

Kadoc raised an eyebrow. "That's the sort of thing those Clocktower morons would say." He leaned back slightly, his tone laced with mock suspicion. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've turned into a proper magus, Director. Quite the shift from the idealist I worked under."

"What can I say?" Olga replied, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Living a second life comes with the opportunity to make a few different choices. You and I aren't so different in that regard, I suppose."

Kadoc's brow furrowed, the smirk vanishing from his own expression. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm afraid it's us who will be asking the questions here, Mr. Zemlupus, not the other way around," Olga shot back, her amber eyes glinting playfully. She twirled a finger in the air, her impish expression making Kadoc bristle. "Woz, would you be so kind as to get this little inquisition started?"

Kadoc frowned as the tall man, Woz, flipped open his strange book. Its pages shimmered with a faint light, the words seeming to shift and reform as if alive. Woz's gaze bore into him, calm but unyielding.

"Let us begin," Woz said, his tone polite yet firm, like a lecturer addressing a particularly troublesome student. "We'll start with the basics. The Crypters. Your mission. Your allegiance to the Foreign God."

Kadoc's shoulders stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "The Crypters? The Lostbelts? You already know everything. What's the point of this?"

"Humor us," Olga interjected, her voice taking a sharp turn. She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the table. "Tell us about the Foreign God. Who—or what—were we really up against?"

Kadoc's lips twitched in irritation, but something in Olga's tone made him hesitate. He glanced between her and Woz, who stood there, inscrutable, book in hand. "You're fishing," he said slowly. "You don't know as much as you want me to believe."

Woz's insufferably polite smile didn't falter. "Then enlighten us."

For a moment, Kadoc hesitated. Then he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly. "The Foreign God… all we knew was that it wasn't from this world. That's why we called it 'Foreign.' It promised salvation while we were unconscious, but only through complete eradication and replacement of Proper Human History as we know it. We were… convenient tools, I suppose. Useful enough to execute its plans, but nothing more."

Olga exchanged a glance with Woz, who gave a slight nod. The aloof façade Kadoc had maintained thus far began to crack. "What exactly are you getting for asking me about them? As far as they are concerned, I am a dead branch in the tree they are planting in the world they are preparing to arrive in. I am literally nothing to them at this point."

"Perhaps," Woz said cryptically. "But who's to say what's been left for the dead doesn't hold a secret or two they themselves don't know about?"

Before Kadoc could respond, Olga leaned back in her chair, her tone turning cold. "Let's revisit Russia for a moment. Specifically with what happened with your Servant."

Kadoc flinched at the name, his expression darkening. "What about her?"

"You remember what happened, don't you? Hiryu Kakogawa—Another Zi-O II—took over her body. And if memory serves me right, you were there when it happened. Stabbed in the chest, wasn't it?"

Kadoc's jaw tightened. "Yeah. I remember. I tried to attack him like an idiot, and he ran me through like I was nothing."

"And you would've bled to death right there if I hadn't saved you personally,"

Kadoc shot her a sardonic look. "Right. Thanks for that, by the way. Saved me just to drag me here. Really appreciate your generosity."

Olga's amber eyes didn't waver. "You're welcome. But do you know why Hiryu needed to take over her body?"

Taking a moment or two to theorize, Kadoc answered with, albeit in a strained manner, "Because of her state as a Servant, right? Due to how she was summoned by me, Anastasia was vulnerable to possession."

"Correct." Olga confirmed, her voice tinged with a weary grimace. "Hiryu needed a proper vessel to enter the Tree of Emptiness from wherever he was trapped. And he didn't do it alone. He used someone called Finis to orchestrate the possession."

Kadoc blinked at the unfamiliar name, confusion evident on his face. "Finis? Never even heard of them. Are you talking about that other monster that shoved that strange watch into Anastasia?"

Olga studied him for a moment before continuing, her tone unreadable. "Finis is tied to Hiryu's schemes, but it seems they have their own plans going on since they were nowhere to be seen by the time Chaldea left the Scandinavia Lostbelt."

Kadoc frowned, a mixture of annoyance and unease flashing across his face. "More schemes from another unknown party? How shocking."

"Perhaps," Olga replied before pausing, her expression hardening. "And for the record, Hiryu Kakogawa—Another Zi-O II—is no longer a problem. I dealt with him myself."

Kadoc's eyebrows rose slightly. "Good. The bastard deserved worse than what he got, though."

"Agreed."

A silence fell between them before Kadoc broke it. "And Fujimaru? I suppose that sorry excuse for a magus was at the center of everything again, wasn't he?"

Olga raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Kadoc."

"I'm not jealous," Kadoc shot back quickly, a little too quickly, which the white haired woman noticed.

"Sure you're not," Olga said dryly. "But if you were, I'd remind you that Ritsuka's success is rooted in doing the right thing. Something we could all stand to learn from."

Kadoc scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Easy for you to say. You weren't the one left in the dirt."

Olga's smirk faded, her tone softening. "I've been in the dirt more times than you know, Kadoc. I failed as Chaldea's director. I let Lev Lainur Flauros manipulate me, let him destroy everything I was supposed to protect. But failure doesn't have to define you. In fact, without that failure, I wouldn't be where I am now."

She leaned forward, her gaze locking with his.

"So, from one failure to another, it should be encouraging to see that any situation can be turned to your benefit."

Kadoc narrowed his eyes. "Is that your way of trying to recruit me back into Chaldea?"

Olga shrugged, an unreadable smile playing on her lips. "I'm doing nothing of the sort. What happens next is your choice, just like it was for me at the end of my journey."

Before Kadoc could press her further, Olga stood, smoothing her coat. "For your cooperation, you'll be moved to a proper room with better accommodations. But don't think for a second you won't still be heavily supervised."

As she turned to leave with Woz, Kadoc called out, his voice laced with defiance. "You're a fool if you think we'll ever fight on the same side again."

Olga paused, glancing back over her shoulder. "One of us has to believe, Kadoc. If humanity is to be saved, someone has to."

With that, she exited the room, leaving Kadoc to mull over her words in tense silence.

It was somewhat of a terrible idea, but Ophelia had to try. "Fujimaru Ritsuka, there's something I have to ask."

"It's about Olga, isn't it?"

Hmm… perceptive. "Yes, how is she alive?" Ophelia asked. Before Ritsuka could answer, Mash was faster to speak.

"Senpai, we shouldn't say anything," the Demi-Servant advised. She could tell Ritsuka was willing to share on that part and didn't think it was a good idea.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," he reassured her before turning back towards Ophelia. "Frankly, I don't fully understand the circumstances behind it either, but fate had plans for her."

"Fate?"

"I don't know how much you've seen of her, but Olga had… a little trip in another timeline and returned with powers beyond what she had before." A long sigh escaped Ristuka before he stared directly into Ophelia's eyes. "The only thing you need to know is… if she wanted any of you dead, you all wouldn't be here."

"I could tell…" She muttered in contemplation. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Ritsuka naturally tilted his head like a confused puppy. "What are you talking about?"

"I've seen the world bend around Olga but you… you're just a normal person, aren't you?" Ophelia questioned, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I remember you were the last recruit Chaldea had— the Master kicked out for sleeping through the Director's speech. You managed to survive the bombing and solve the Singularity on your own— defeated Beast I on your own. How?"

Ritsuka didn't take a moment to think before answering. "I wasn't alone, that's all there is to it. There's nothing special about me." With that, he stood up and called Mash's name. "I think that's all she's willing to answer. Let's go."

Ophelia watched as they exited the room… only for Mash to pause and turn back. "I really want to understand, Ophelia… why it had to be this way."

"Because that's what our destiny had in store for us." And it was impossible to circumvent it— no matter how hard they tried. That's what she believed anyway.

However, as if he had been reading her thoughts, Ritsuka replied. "No, that shouldn't have to dictate anything. If fighting us is something you regret… then there could have been another way."

With that, the door closed behind them, leaving Ophelia with her thoughts once again. 'I'm sure… It's you again. But how?'

Elsewhere…

She was told to expect things different from what she knew; she was prepared for it. However, she didn't expect there to be such a sharp difference on either end of the scale. When she stepped out and looked into the countryside, it was what she used to know. Memories of centuries past came back as she watched the farmers toiled in the fields.

But when she came back to the capital, it was nothing that she ever knew. Technology was far advanced than what would be present-day Earth. Or rather, it was more accurate to say it was far more prevalent. Putting warriors of the past in cryo-chambers, a satellite that surveyed everything, and an immortal emperor. Though not a single phone in sight…

'Whatever, it doesn't matter to me.' Akuta Hinako thought as she stared up at the moon in deep contemplation; it was not part of her nightly routine to sit out in a garden to clear her mind. Next to her, her Servant placed a cup of tea for her to enjoy. "Thank you, Saber," she muttered under her breath.

"Is there something bothering you, Master?" Her Servant asked as he drank from his own cup. "You're usually quiet, but this is different."

A small scoff escaped her. Of course he noticed. "Just wondering when their greatness would finally let my beloved out." While that wasn't the only thing on her mind, it was definitely one of them. She had loyally done the tasks assigned to her by the immortal emperor; when would she finally be rewarded for it? "And now we have this new problem on our hands."

It was a strange problem that began the previous week. Before that, there were practically no issues outside the occasionally mythic beast that went on a rampage in the countryside but now— "I was told to expect things were different, but why ninjas?!" And more importantly, the Emperor and their men spoke of the rebels as something that was always there when from her perspective, they came out of nowhere!

…Well, they were ninjas so coming out of nowhere was on brand, but that was besides the point.

"Something happened, and now we have another problem on our hands," Akuta stated, her eyes narrowing as she looked past her Servant.

Noticing her gaze at something behind him, the Prince of Lanling sighed as he put down his cup. It was time for battle. "Please stay behind me, Master. I'll handle this," he said with confidence as he got up to his feet. He heard the sound of something cutting through the air—

Clank! Clank!

—only for him to swiftly turn around and unsheathe his sword. The shuriken bounced off his blade and fell to the ground to a clatter. "Show yourself, or will you continue being cowards?"

The scuffling within the night was all they heard before ten, maybe a dozen men cloaked in dark attire emerged. However, from repeated encounters, they knew these were simply the henchmens— the grunts of the resistance. "Where is your leader?" Akuta asked, unafraid of the would-be assassins. She's heard rumours of the skill and abilities of the various leaders of the five main divisions, but had yet to see them for herself.

"Over here!"

A young man's cry grabbed their attention, drawing their gazes to the top of a nearby gazebo. Standing atop it, with moonlight illuminating him, was one of the major figures within the resistance inside the Lostbelt. The purple scarf he wore was something Akuta and her Servant had heard of before. With a hup, the young man jumped down and landed silently on his feet.

"I didn't expect you to be this bold," Was Saber's only remark as he got into his battle stance. He waited, however, as he knew what came next. While not a strategic move by all means, he wanted to let the young man give it his all in a fight.

The leader of this band of ninjas gave no words as he reached into his clothes and pulled out a silver gourd with a purple shuriken design on it. He popped it open and poured it in front of his waist, spilling out purple liquid with translucent tadpoles that wrapped around his waist. In a flash, a silver buckle appeared alongside a large silver shuriken.

"Dare ja? Ore ja! Ninja!"

"Shinobi! Kenzan!"

All too suddenly, a giant mechanical frog materialized out of thin air. Before Akuta could even comprehend what she was seeing, the artificial creature unleashed a dense cloud of smoke, thick and expansive like a rolling fog, engulfing everything in an instant. In the chaos, both the frog and its summoner vanished from sight.

"Ugh! What - ack! Ack! What in the world is going on?!" Akuta sputtered, coughing as she tried to expel the smoke from her lungs. Her breaths came ragged, and she waved a hand in front of her face in a futile attempt to clear the air. Gradually, the dense fog began to dissipate, and she managed to steady herself.

But as the smoke cleared, Akuta's gaze lifted—and her brown eyes widened in shock, her expression frozen as if she had just glimpsed something impossible.

'...Oh, I do NOT get compensated enough to deal with this bullshit!'

Now standing in a full body suit of armour, the young man declared the words he always spoke before battle. "Shinobi is written with a "heart" and "sword!" Kamen Rider, Shinobi!"

…Akuta thought ninjas were supposed to be stealthy.

"At long last, today is the day you shall fall to my blade, Akuta Hinako!"

"...Okay, but why?"

We live!

Sorry for the wait, it's just that I just went to college and you all know how that goes.

Anywho, Kamen Rider Shinobi in the Third Lostbelt of China! What does Finis get from doing this mixup? What chaos has this change has risen as a result of this change to the canon events of this arc? What beef does Rentaro Kagura have with Akuta Hinako? We shall see soon! I think. Hopefully.

FB113: Well, you guys knew I wasn't dead with how much a certain brainrot has been consuming me. And hey, a post I made here got referenced there so you know this fic has been in the back of my mind the entire time. Nice to finally work on this again and here's to seeing you all stick around for more! Also, I just realized this would be the first time I'm actually writing canon Ophelia and not an AR… sort of. Anyway, back to the gacha mines I go (save me…)

Until next time folks!