Garden of Order: XII

Shiki knew the answer was to come.

That was just the sort of person Ritsuka was.

Well, that was the person he gave the impression of being and yet she thought it strange to see it put into practice like that. Especially with how everything had happened with the Caster.

He was still a strange person.

Silently as she could, she crept up beside him and looked up. Their height difference was not so great that he towered over her but he was still a bit taller. Not that it was what she cared about, she just watched him for a few moments.

Fujimaru Ritsuka was a strange person.

"I knew you'd say that."

He turned to her at the comment and slowly raised a brow. "Say what?"

"That you wanted to talk with them."

Confusion danced over his face for about half a second before it shifted into understanding. "Oh, yeah. You mean the other person who is here. Yeah, I guess I might be becoming a little predictable at this point, huh?"

He chuckled wryly and scratched the back of his neck.

Shiki, meanwhile, felt a slight furrow spread over her brows as she debated his words. It was the opposite, she would argue. It was predictable but then rather strange at the same time how unexpected his actions were. It was almost ruthless in the way that he agreed to allow Caster to be killed by the person who was apparently King Arthur - because that was a weird thing - and then he would still state a desire to talk.

It was curious.

"Maybe." Was the outward answer. "But I don't know a lot about that sort of thing. I figured that would be your answer…and if they don't want to talk?"

"Then they don't want to talk." He concluded with a nod of the head. "And we can only hope that they won't try and stop us…"

He sounded a little sad about that.

Did he feel bad about it?

Hmmm, she supposed there were people who felt bad about doing that sort of thing, but if they were left with no choice then she didn't see a reason to feel upset about it.

It was just the sort of thing that someone brought upon themselves.

"You probably think that me being upset about it is weird, don't you?"

Shiki blinked rather slowly. "How could you tell?"

Ritsuka just gave her a tired but rather lopsided smile. "I like to think I've got a feel for most of what you'd say. You remind me a little of another guy…he's a bit ruthless as well but…well, I can't think of a but anywhere in there. He's just plain ruthless but he would argue that being upset over killing someone is stupid, I figure. At least if he was here right now, that is probably what he would say."

"It is probably easier for some people than others."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I'm just…not one of those people."

"You let Caster die."

"...Yeah." He sounded a bit distant now. "I've let other people die in the past as well. I've killed too…indirectly or not. I gave commands to my Servants and then they killed people."

"Other Servants or people?"

Ritsuka just tilted his head and stared at her.

"You don't see a difference." She reminded herself with a slow nod of the head, he just hummed in affirmation but said nothing more. She supposed they had already gone over this sort of thing before. Servants were just people in his eyes, so there was no sense in debating this again. "As long as you're willing to do it, then there's no reason to complain about it."

A muffled grunt was her answer, she raised a brow as she realised it was actually some sort of weak and hollow chuckle. Raising a brow, she watched as he shook his head from side to side and raised his hand to his temples, rubbing his fingers across his brow before lowering them down again.

"I've had people argue that my habits of trying to talk first are stupid."

"Maybe." Shiki wasn't one to debate it. "I think we're opposites like that. My first reaction is to kill."

She glanced at him. It was the first time she had actually come right out and said it and she was curious as to what his reaction was going to be. Though she was sure that it would hardly be something noteworthy.

There was the mental image of him just nodding his head.

Sure enough.

That was exactly what he did.

"Alright."

"Is that it?"

Ritsuka shrugged. "Did you want something more? If that's what your first reaction is then that's what it is. I can hardly say it's any weirder than mine most of the time. Yours might be more appropriate for certain situations. I've actually tried to engage in conversations with Demons and even after that, we still ended up fighting each other to the death."

She figured that-

Wait.

"Demons." Shiki blinked and leaned back. "You talked with Demons?"

"Yeah. Couple times as well." He just admitted it again as though there was nothing noteworthy about it. "Don't get me wrong though, I'm not saying that I regret speaking with Aodh-"

The demon had a name?

"-and I think that the two of us came to an understanding. I guess what I'm trying to say is that even if I'm going to be enemies with someone, it would be nice that I could at least speak with them first?"

He turned and looked at her.

Shiki just continued to stare. "Yeah. That is strange."

He snorted and waved a hand towards her. "See? That's just something that most would find weird but that's just how it works for me. I don't even need to like someone either but I'd want to speak with them all the same. So…I guess when you say your first instinct is to kill someone, then that's just how it works."

Yeah.

He really was a bit of a weirdo.

No.

Maybe he was normal?

Shiki couldn't quite decide which of the two it was.

She wasn't exactly normal by any definition of the word and she understood that, so to say that he was strange would be like admitting that he was different to her, which would make him like everyone else, but to admit he was normal would be to say that he was the same sort of weirdness as her which would make him different from others.

So she could not decide which of the two it was.

"I guess people do like to talk to each other a lot," Shiki mused to herself, "but I don't think I've ever heard of someone trying to go out of their way to speak with a Demon before. Do you do something like that frequently?"

Ritsuka went quiet for a moment and then grunted. "Sometimes it works. I think that's why I keep doing it. I mean…even if we do fight, I feel like I've gotten something worthwhile out of the conversation and if we do come to blows then…I guess it's a relief to understand why we've reached that point."

He folded his arms and hummed.

"I guess it just makes me feel more comfortable if I know why we're fighting? I guess that might matter less to other people."

Shiki just shrugged her shoulders, it was not really something she thought about all that much when it came to fighting someone. There was just the desire to kill and then they were fighting. Maybe there were motivations other times, but those were exceptions and, really, she rarely felt like engaging in discussions with the people she was going to kill.

"Does it bother you?"

Ritsuka hummed in puzzlement. "Does what bother me?"

Wordlessly, Shiki pointed to herself.

He raised a brow. "You mean how you just immediately go for the kill? I mean…I wouldn't say it bothers me…I'm not like that but you are? I guess that's the best way to describe it."

That seemed like a safe answer to her.

And a little too simple.

Was that really all there was to it?

…Did it really matter?

She turned away slowly and then frowned to herself for a moment. "What if I tried to kill someone you wanted to talk with?"

"I think there would need to be a bit of context surrounding that." Ritsuka scratched his cheek. "Because I can't imagine that you would immediately just run in and try to just kill them without at least knowing they were a threat. So…I guess I would be a little troubled by something like that, but if you were just acting to try and remove a clear and present danger then I wouldn't be too angry about it. A little frustrated?"

"What if I saw the person you want to speak to here and decided they were a threat and tried to kill them before you could speak?"

"...That's a strange thing to just come out and say." He replied.

Shiki pointedly looked at him and waited. "Well?"

"Do you feel the urge right now?"

The urge?

She thinned her lips. "I haven't met them yet. I guess it's just a natural inclination for me. You talk about wanting to speak with them and I'm curious if I'll get the urge to kill them when we meet. I might but-"

"Doesn't mean you'd act on it." Ritsuka pointed out. "You might get the inclination but I don't think you'd do it every chance you got. Like with Caster. You were the first one in there with him and you didn't immediately try to kill him…though I'm pretty sure you thought about it the second you saw him."

"...Maybe."

Ritsuka just nodded. "My point is that I figure you'd have a good reason for it."

"What if my reason was if I felt like it?"

"Would you though?" He asked but he didn't sound upset, merely curious. There was really quite something innocent about the way he asked the questions. It was with the same sort of intrigue she imagined someone would ask about the weather. "Have you ever killed someone just because you felt like it?"

"Maybe I have."

Ritsuka just looked at her, a slight tightening of his expression before it loosened. "I'm not wholly convinced of that."

Shiki frowned this time. "That's just you being optimistic."

It was something like that all over again.

She just stopped walking and stared at him for a few moments. "Why do you believe that I wouldn't do something like that?"

Ritsuka stopped walking as well and turned to meet her gaze without even so much as a blink.

"I'm not quite sure. I guess because we're talking right now to one another, aren't we?"

Shiki just maintained her stare.

That wasn't proof enough.

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well."

Ritsuka tilted his head.

"Don't you want to kill me right now though?"

Shiki blinked slowly. "...What?"

"You said you felt the pull for it before, right?" Ritsuka continued onwards. "Which means you probably still feel it at the moment. I get that we're working together but if it's so natural for you then it means you've not lost the urge. I guess what I'm trying to say is…it's a bit like a thing you can't help. I just want to keep talking with people when I can and you…"

He trailed off, but he didn't need to say anything else.

Then he rather suddenly frowned.

"Though this is just me guessing. I'm sorry if I offended you there by saying something out of the blue."

Shiki just took a breath. "Suppose you're right…aren't you too comfortable like that?"

"I have experience with this sort of thing before." Ritsuka replied with a shake of the head. "Doesn't mean that I'm used to it but I…well…I guess I'm just starting to expect to meet people who want to kill me. It's actually a little terrifying when I stop to think about it but then I'll still try and speak with them?"

She raised a brow. "Why? Is it to beg?"

Ritsuka went quiet for a moment, then slipped his hands into his pockets.

"You know…if I really thought it would work then yeah. I probably would beg."

Shiki looked past him towards the others who hadn't quite noticed they'd stopped, then glanced back to Ritsuka.

The distance between them was nothing.

"You take me not killing you as proof that I need a reason?"

"I guess so, yeah." Ritsuka made a half turn, then stopped and shot her a rather strained look. "Though I will freely admit that I am pleading in my head to be right at the moment because if I'm not then…yeah…"

Shiki wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to react to that. Someone who was so clearly wanting to live and yet showed such comfort being around death.

She snorted. "You really are a weird one."

"I would like to say I resent the accusation." He replied with a shake of the head. "But these days I'm really starting to wonder."

"Don't bother." Shiki dismissed as she walked past him. "I think normal people are weird so I guess you are normal."

"That sounds backhanded."

Shiki just shrugged. "What about that girl and her brother?"

"Sudden topic change."

"We could go back to the one where I talk about stabbing you."

"No, this topic change is nice." Though his words were rather hurried, there was a hint of mirth within them. It left her unsure just how much he truly meant it when he said he was terrified about dying. "Ash and Priscilla probably need to have a conversation now rather than later and I've come to the understanding that avoiding this sort of thing is more trouble than it's worth…for most people."

Shiki looked over her shoulder at him.

She saw that look on his face.

"Bad experiences."

Ritsuka looked back at her with an expression she hadn't quite seen on him before.

It was just an expression of pure vacancy.

"Yeah."

Even his voice was monotone, quiet as well. Not a whisper by any stretch of the imagination, but just quiet.

"Bad experiences."

"...You worried about it again?"

Ritsuka started walking until he was beside her once more. "I'm worried that I'll let it happen again. I did some things…"

"To her and the knight with horns, right?"

"..."

"I can tell. You have that look in your eyes." Shiki leaned forwards, it wasn't quite like her own gaze but she could recognise it. The eyes of a killer and yet there was something rather different about it. "Did you kill them?"

"...Yeah."

Ritsuka nodded slowly.

"...I did."

He did not speak, nor did he even look at her.

Priscilla had never been entirely honest.

And for that she felt rather guilty, taking advantage of the kindness of the young man and yet there had been that presence around Ritsuka.

He was not her father.

That much had always been obvious.

He was kind.

Her father was not.

But there was a warmth when she held his hand, a sense of security that was so very much like grandmothers but different. She was truly deplorable to have taken advantage of such a thing with her state. Blind though she might have been, there was more than one way that someone might have felt across the world.

Priscilla had other options for navigation.

But she did not use them.

Perhaps that was what her brother knew and had been disgusted with her in doing such, or perhaps he did not and his reasons for disliking her were truly linked to an action that she had done in the past. Whatever the case might have been, it was something she would either learn of soon or it would go unknown.

They walked in silence.

Priscilla was not sure what she was to expect, and yet this was somehow far from surprising. The cold silence and the lack of acknowledgement in any true form was what she truly deserved for being as sinful as she was. If her grandmother was here then she would have been seen through in mere moments.

It was possible she had already been discovered and that was why grandmother left so suddenly.

Steadying her nerves, she focused her mind once more.

"I never expect an answer from thou," Her words were slow at first, quiet and wavering. But they gained confidence as she went on. "yet I am compelled to speak all the like."

Her head turned in the direction she could feel her young brother, the pulsing of his mind grew faster and faster. The rhythm was chaotic and almost mangled. It was such that she was reminded more of some wounded animal thrashing about rather than anything that lived.

It was sickening to even consider the idea she was responsible.

But what else would explain it all?

The rhythm turned on her ever so slightly, the focus of its chaotic beats fixed themselves solely upon her and yet gave no words, no hint that it was more than a passing glimpse before the dismissal came again.

A sardonic smile forged itself upon her lips.

Indeed, this was what she expected.

"I shall speak till thou say to me otherwise."

Another silence.

Priscilla, however, was still selfish enough that she would take that silence as proof that he would at least hear her out. Not that she had evidence for such things and perhaps it was merely conceit that drove her onwards.

All the same.

It needed saying.

"I understand there is a rift 'twixt us as siblings. I canst not speak with any certainty for what I might hast done, therefore I am left to assume I didst thou some terrible wrong in the past."

A thought almost too terrible to consider.

It was never what she wanted, never what she wished for.

Priscilla had only ever wanted to bring comfort and peace to those without either, perhaps she would fight to defend them but cruelty was not something she was capable of. Not something she ever believed herself capable of.

"I understand we hast been enemies in the past. Enough hath been quoth that I know that to be true."

Her words trailed off as the rhythm turned for the first time in a proper manner, the chaos and writhing slowed until it was nothing.

A single note strung out.

Directed solely towards her.

Gathering her nerves, she pulled herself up straight and yet despite all of that, she still felt as though she was the shorter one looking up.

She lowered her head.

"For whatever crime I didst thee in the past. For whatever evil thou suffered at mine hand to earn thy hatred. I offer mine deepest apologies."

It felt tight within her, a terrible ugliness that she could so such a thing. Yet it was not something she could wholly place on her eyes anymore. Rather, she was slowly coming to the conclusion that with or without those, she could still demonstrate herself to be a sinful person and yet…the anger remained.

Not to her, but to those who birthed her.

Cursed her with such terrible things that she would be spurned.

And above all.

A curse unto herself for having such terrible sight.

"I never say this expecting forgiveness for mine actions, whatever they may be, yet I swear that I shall doth all in mine power not to repeat 'em."

Her jaw clenched and she took in a deep breath, bringing her head back up and turning to the rhythm once more.

"For would I doth, thou may treat me as a sinner and punish me accordingly."

Silence met her words.

But that was fine.

She had said all that she wished to-

"You are under a misconception."

Priscilla would have blinked if she were capable of it, instead she started at the sudden words with which her younger brother spoke to her. They were as calm as they were cold. Rather, there was nothing within them.

No trace of the emotion he had shown before.

"I do not dislike you for what you did to me personally. I do not think of that in any true capacity. Restoring my memories has clarified such things and, perhaps, you were the catalyst for understanding my flaws as an individual."

Priscilla pulled her hands together, her fingers bundled tight as she held her grip.

Something about the way he spoke brought her no comfort.

He spoke of his flaws as though he was broken inside, and thanked her for making him realise that.

She didn't want to be thanked for something like that.

That wasn't what she wanted.

It was only ever to help those who broke, who could bear the weight of the world no longer. It was never for her to make them herself.

Ignorant of her inner turmoil, Ash continued onwards.

"It can be said that in some capacity, I am thankful for your actions in opening my eyes. Perhaps it instigated more but that is not for this discussion. No. We are just incompatible as individuals. That is why I do not find your company desirable."

Priscilla stopped walking and rolled her jaw.

It was a confession so open and so confident.

"We are not compatible?"

"Our goals do not align. Rather. I find your goals to be disgusting."

Priscilla had truly tried to harden her heart to whatever cold rejection she anticipated facing, she truly believed that she might have done a good job as well. She had promised as such to herself that she would face the truth without losing face.

…But to hear it said aloud like that.

…Ah.

…Perhaps she wasn't as strong as she thought she was.

"...Thou truly regard so little of me?" It was spoken in a voice so alien to her own and she cursed herself for showing such vulnerabilities. She did not wish to try and sway him by appearing wounded. This was never about her feelings, it was always about whatever he felt towards her.

But something told her that even if she were to break down in tears, he would not dull his bladed words.

It was a relieving as it was painful.

"Yes. I do not believe you are capable of changing your goals either. The presence of Ariandel - no, Ariamis - within you is proof of that. You will not change."

Ariamis? What did her domain have to do with…?

…He found it disgusting that she cared for the lost souls.

Priscilla straightened ever so slightly.

"Are thou disgusted in me or those I care for?"

"Both."

The answer was as blunt as it was final.

"Even now I would consider it a cruelty to keep any alive in that sordid state. They have forsworn even their anger and have chosen to live as nothing until the world rots around them. Such a thing cannot even be called life. It is utterly nothing. So why do you keep them like that?"

"Because it is peaceful."

"A lack of misery is not the presence of serenity."

Priscilla twitched ever so slightly at that.

His dismissal of those people, his declaration that they did not deserve to continue living after they had lost almost everything.

"They are souls with all's bore dear stolen from them. Wouldst thou take from them their lives in a final act of cruelty?"

Her brother merely grunted as if she had said something amusing. No, it was not as though she had said something amusing.

As though she had said something stupid.

"Cruelty? To give them the mercy they are needed? I can briefly excuse the state of humanity as I learn of them but for those who cast aside everything else, what little is left for them but death? Whether they find the nothing of Ariamis or the kiss of my blade on their neck, it is all the same. At least with my mercy they are no longer cursed to suffer the cold because they can bear no other living."

Priscilla exhaled. "That is not for you to decide."

"According to who?"

Such unfettered arrogance.

He was right.

They truly were incompatible, weren't they?

Unless…

"Thou speak such cruel words with such passion." She realised, something budding away inside her mind as she looked back on the conversation.

Her face softened as she realised it.

Why his words hurt her so greatly, not merely because they were brother and sister.

No, this was something else.

"Doth it wound thou so deeply to see them suffering such terrible lives?"

Ash gave no reply to her words, but she heard the tune of his spirit waver ever so slightly. A brief moment of discordinance before it straightened out, but though he had no way of knowing, she had already seen through him.

Yet he was still right.

They, perhaps, were incompatible even as she believed she understood what he meant.

Her care for the broken was her kindness and her love.

His mercy for the broken was his own.

"Haply thou deserve these eyes more than I."

It was some seconds before her brother spoke again.

But he did.

"It would have made things much simpler, true."

Perhaps it was the one moment of shared acceptance between the two of them, though she could not quite say whether she would believe as such beyond this place, it was at least something she would grasp with both hands and hold on tight to.

Their bond in this one moment.

"Does it upset you?"

Perking up at the question, she turned her focus to her brother and debated the question for a moment.

No, that would be a lie.

It did not require a debate in the least for her to form an answer for him.

"I am saddened only that we find common ground on how we differ."

She would not lie and say that she was completely unbothered, but that was a separate instance to the fact he was her younger brother. Rather, she was saddened for his ideals and not for being related to her.

"...Hmmm."

With only a hum as her answer, she was left in silence once again and drew her lips thin as she turned her head down. Feeling her fingers drift against one another as she thought back to the conversation that she had with little Mash. It was such a kind thing that the girl had done, a sweet and innocent soul that she was.

"'Tis said thou bake."

"What of it?" She was shocked at how guarded he sounded, like he was to expect some manner of derision for his actions.

"I am relieved that thou hast found yourself such a gentle hobby."

There was a lingering pinprick along her skin where she could feel his gaze, the rhythm quicked for a moment and turned faster and faster, likening it to the heartbeat of a cornered animal until it finally slowed. The sensation washed over her and the feeling of being stared at pulled away.

"Why?"

She quirked a brow and tilted her head, hoping that the movement would be enough to voice her confusion. For she could not find how to put it into words for him. Why would she ask him such a thing or why would she care? Both options felt as though they yielded answers she would be rather struggling to answer.

"Why care? From your perspective, we have never met."

"Am I forbidden from asking to your wellbeing?"

It was the scrape of footsteps that halted her movements, she tensed for only a moment as she thought that perhaps there would be conflict up ahead to divert the attention. Yet when she heard no further sounds, Priscilla twisted her head in the general direction of the tune and looked down towards it.

She could not begin to imagine his expression.

But the rhythm had gone flat.

Cold, even.

"...I have not even concerned myself with yours. Why concern yourself with mine?"

Priscilla only shuffled a shrug in response. "We are close and yet differ, do we not?"

That was the only answer she could find herself giving. They might have been concerned about how one lived, but their results were not the same. Nor were their methods and perhaps while he did not care for her, that did not mean she would extend that right back towards him.

"Tragically, I am selfish." She smiled. "I care for those whom never oft care for me."

Footsteps resumed not long after, heading away from her with a sharper pace about them. She felt the turmoil that danced across him and she found herself frowning, opening her mouth to speak an apology before stopping herself short.

Apologising for the truth would be rather cruel of her, especially as it would be a lie to say she did not mean it in such a way.

…Truly, she was rather problematic when she did not mean to be, it seemed.

A sharp crack and the door was broken inwards, his shadow fell through the entrance and his eyes narrowed as he took in the interior. Stepping into the apartment and dragging behind his sword as he did so, his eyes lingered left and right as he basked in the silence of the room.

There was nothing here, just as with the others.

…Unfortunate, as he would have welcomed the conflict as a distraction.

Ash turned on his heel and marched back out of the apartment and to the walkway once again, calling out as he did so. "Just as the others, this one is empty."

"No bodies either." The troubled frown was clear in Ritsuka's words. "Can't say I'm not feeling as though someone walked over my grave here."

Though the words flew over his head, the same could not be said for the others.

A jerked nod from Mordred as the knight stomped forwards, moving past him and peering into the room he had just cleared. Her helmet snapped backwards and revealed the scowl on her lips and the frustration bleeding through her expression. Her hand closed to a fist and struck the side of the doorframe, bending wood and metal inwards as she stepped away from it.

"Getting real tired of all these cowards hiding away and just waiting to jump out at us. All this silence makes it feel like they're just building up and waiting for us further along."

"Avenger would be foolish not to consolidate his forces." Ash said, moving away from the blonde and further ahead. "It would explain how Verndari would advance unchallenged if the floors were cleared out and drawn back prior to the knights ascent."

Mordred responded with only a vexed click of the tongue.

Ritsuka exhaled. "Either way, I'm not liking this much either. If Avenger is pulling back everyone to the very top then we're probably going to be in for a tough fight. Wouldn't make sense if he wasted everyone on the front lines and was surrounded by no one when we all went up."

Turning his head, Ritsuka directed his focus elsewhere. "That sounds about right, doesn't it Lancer?"

Lancer shifted his head at being called out, then hummed rather lowly. "T wast a fearsome advance. Any commander wouldst behold upon our work and understand they wouldst only wasteth their troops in prolonged efforts 'gainst superior foes."

Ash could spy Mordred giving a slow nod of the head.

Ritsuka continued his conversation. "So in his position, would you have pulled everyone back to the top floor and then just waited to surround us with everyone then?"

"I wouldst." Lancer confirmed with a single nod of the head. "Though such a tactic is simple enough to go without declaring."

A brief flush, the dark haired teen rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes for a brief moment as a faint chuckle came from him. "I figured that would be the case but you talked like you had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, so it just felt easier to double check with you."

Lancer turned from him, scarlet cloak billowing in the breeze as he walked on without another word.

Ash stepped aside and let him pass him by, the snakes tracked his location before turning on ahead.

"Good talk." The hushed mumble of Ritsuka pricked at his ears before the boy sped up. "Alright. We'll keep an eye out all the same in case Avenger wants to try his luck on our way up. Lulling us into a false sense of security and all that."

Mordred snorted a rather ugly sound. "Makes sense for him. Seems the cowardly sort to try that. Tch, almost wishing he is drawing everyone back. At least that would make him man enough to face us all in a straight fight."

Or stupid enough.

Ash thought but did not speak aloud.

Given their numbers and their strength, Avenger remained only one Servant and while he could not make estimates for the relative strength of them, even with a Holy Grail in their possession, it would be foolish to try and fight so many enemies single handedly.

Especially if Mordred or himself were commanded to use their Anti-Army Noble Phantasms and just swept away a majority of the opposition.

Well.

He would avoid underestimating Avenger.

He had done much the same with the Caster and the strange man had used that chance to deploy his Noble Phantasm and incinerate his arm and blow out most of his organs with that brief chance of his.

"Come on. Not many floors left." Shiki's announcement came soon after. "One above us and then there is the roof."

Avenger would probably be on the roof.

That was where Ash would go if he was in their place, it was more expansive and gave greater manoeuvrability.

Ash carried on forwards and approached the doors to the next corridor that would lead them inwards.

Though there was something else.

"Has there been no further word from Verndari?"

"No." Ritsuka sounded somewhat tense as he called back. "Either because she's ignoring me or because of this place. Probably the latter of the two if I'm being honest. I'm hoping that she won't go out and fight Avenger all by herself but…"

But she would have had no method of knowing they had actually backtracked.

Troublesome.

Ash quickened his pace to be in step with Lancer and passed him by without fanfare, moving ahead to the doors and prying them open without trouble. His eyes swept through the interior for a moment before he leaned backwards and turned his head over his shoulder, giving a slow shake of the head before entering.

Sword unsheathed, he entered the hallways and stepped through them, glancing left and right and observing every shadow.

If there was something here, it would be revealed soon enough.

Unless it was an Assassin.

He turned once more and jerked his head forwards before taking steps into the hallway and moving for the central area.

It was not a short walk and now that he was left alone to his thoughts, he tried to make sense of them.

He and Priscilla were different, it seemed.

But her lack of anger was strange to him, he could not make sense of it.

When compared with his own approach, his own frustration when others did not see his point of view, when they turned against his own efforts and acted contradictory to what they would have expected. It was strange to consider that Priscilla would hold the same warped ideal as before and yet demonstrate not a hint of anger towards him.

He was left with the impression that this version of her was truly broken because of her missing eyes.

It was the only conclusion that made sense to him.

This place had shifted her anger away and that was why she did not demonstrate the same annoyance that he would have done.

But was that answer right?

He frowned to himself and then stopped to glance up.

Ash blinked as he stared at the doors to the elevator, then glanced over his shoulder to see that he had walked the entire distance without even realising it. Another twitch jolted through his body at the understanding and he mentally scolded himself for being so easy to lose focus.

Now was certainly not the time for him to become distracted.

Especially not when they were on the eve of another battle.

He turned back around and struck the button, drawing his hand back and waiting.

Saying no to Priscilla seemed all the more appealing now than ever before, but it was too late for that.

She confused him.

"No sign of enemies, Senpai."

Everything seemed to confuse him about this place.

Priscilla, Avenger…all of it.

"Keep an eye out, just in case."

It was all just.

Odd.

He twisted his head as the presence got closer to him, stepping backwards and turning to the side. Moving his body from the entrance to the elevator and granting access to it. He made brief eye contact with Mordred and then stopped, turning back to stare at the side of her head for a moment longer.

Everything seemed much simpler when he disliked her.

He still did.

Perhaps that was fortunate enough that he could at least understand what his problems with her were.

Everything was simple with her.

Her goals and her nature.

It was just easy.

Mordred furrowed her brows and sharply turned in his direction, making eye contact with him once again and then frowning deeper as the two of them stared at one another. Her lip twisted in mild disdain, eyes looked up and down before she released a disgusted - or perhaps irritated - noise and turned her head away.

"What do you think of Avenger?"

"...Hah?"

It was strange to hear the usual Servant sound so ordinary, her confusion was rather simple as she jerked and turned about to face him.

Her head tilted and her brows furrowed. "...What?"

"Avenger." Ash repeated. "What do you think of his goal?"

She shrugged. "Why are you asking me? I don't care what his goal is. I'm just going to kill him."

Oh.

That seemed simple and rather empty as well.

Ash nodded and turned his head towards the elevator, eyes drifting to the smaller arrow which moved past the squiggles through the small glass window.

"You don't care about my opinion." Mordred accused during the silence. "So why did you ask?"

"I would not ask if I did not want to hear it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you care."

A shape stepped between them before he could respond.

"Hey guys."

Ritsuka stood with arms folded, eyes fixed on the arrow and his foot tapping up and down. Ash glanced at the boy and looked towards the face which was still facing the arrow. It was difficult to tell whether this was a case of purposeful interruption or if had just blundered his way into their conversation.

Both were possible.

"Ritsuka." Ash inclined his head.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Avenger's goal?"

"...You mean making Hell?" Ritsuka sounded somewhat bemused by the question, turning on him with a slightly raised brow. "I mean…it sounds a little sad to me, doesn't it?"

Did it?

Perhaps his face spoke of his own confusion as Ritsuka winced for a moment before he elaborated.

"Well, having it so that all that's left of people is them when they were at their lowest seems a little bit cruel, right? Just reducing people down to their vengeance so that they just kind of forget everything else. I guess I can see what Avenger is trying to do here but it just isn't for me."

Ash looked beyond the top of Ritsuka's head and towards Mordred.

Once more, she met his gaze and rolled her eyes. "It's pointless to worry about that. We're gonna go in and beat his ass."

"...Does it really not matter to you though?"

Mordred threw back her head, closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose. Her head dropped down to the side and she stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Why are you drawing me back into this? What are you expecting me to say here? He's an ass trying to weaponise hatred for his own good. That's it. People's anger belongs to them and them alone. Happy now?"

No.

Not really.

"...Is it such a bad thing to keep a record of their anger?"

Ritsuka blinked slowly at him. "I wouldn't call it a bad thing to keep a record of it but there is a difference between a record and having them turn into a vengeful ghost or corpse that goes around attacking everyone else."

"Yes." Slowly nodding, he frowned. "But if we removed the aggression. These spirits might well be the last remnants that the people existed here in the first place. Is it wrong for them to be remembered in any capacity…even if it is nothing more than their final moments?"

Ritsuka waved a hand. "Come on Ash, we both know there's more to someone's life than anger. We all have our ups and downs."

"Yes." He would admit that. "But…if all the evidence that is left of them is this anger…then is that wrong? What if when the anger is gone and the spirit is destroyed…what if no one is left to remember they even existed? It is as though they were never there. Does that make this wrong?"

Raising his head to Mordred once more, he elaborated further. "I ask you because what if the only proof of you that remained was your grudge against King Arthur? If all there was to your existence was your Rebellion."

He tilted his head.

"What if it didn't happen? Should someone not remember it? Should there not be a reminder…some evidence that it happened?"

Green eyes dropped to blue.

"What happens when even those with nothing but their anger lose that? Did they even matter if no one remembers they existed?"

Ritsuka blinked slowly. "...I think people matter regardless of it. You know after this a lot of people probably won't know I even exist. I'll live and die without billions of people knowing that I was even born…But I'll matter to the people who knew me at least."

"But is that not the problem?" Ash tilted his head. "They knew you. What about those that no one knows?"

He was unsure if he was trying to get the point across.

Turning to the elevator door, he stared in silence.

"I have been thinking about it. I understand why Avenger must be stopped. But I do not understand if there is something wrong with his plan."

"Didn't you hate Ariandel?"

Ash frowned at the name but now he compared them.

Were they similar?

…He did not know.

He tried to compare them and the two ideas did not quite click together in the way he would have expected them to.

Ash could not understand why.

"...I think it is because the people of Ariandel lost everything." He replied slowly. "They cast aside even their anger at the world for their lives. At least the spirits still have that. They are driving towards their anger."

Yes.

That was it.

They were determined with their anger, so determined that part of them endured even after death.

"...Should their determination not be acknowledged?"

A loud snort echoed over from Mordred.

Shaking her head, the blonde was chuckling under her breath. "What? Well done on being so pissed off you came back from the dead just to mindlessly attack everyone who happens to wander past? Yeah."

Another snort as she sent him a mocking smirk. "Definitely worthy of praise."

He met her stare. "You destroyed an entire kingdom in a fit of rage and are now a Heroic Spirit."

Mordred's face blanked.

"I would argue the only difference between your anger and theirs is scope-"

"Alright, hold on before we start an argument." Hands raised, Ritsuka turned between the two of them.

"Yeah." Ritsuka turned to him. "There is something to be said about their anger sure and it might be earned but these people are to be pitied Ash. Think about it…all that remains of them is that anger. Sure it might be strong but that's all that's left. There was so much more to these people than vengeance and fury."

His arms dropped down, a flicker of sadness crossed his face.

"Even Heroic Spirits are more than the sum of their actions. More than whatever their legends entail. More than one act which might have been a bit more memorable than everything else."

Ash slowly nodded his head.

Yes, he supposed that much was also true.

But what did it matter in the end?

Heroic Spirits, their Noble Phantasms, they were all just a crystalised legend.

He nodded his head.

But he did not differentiate.

Even at their lowest point, even in this wretched state.

They had value.

All humans wanted to live, they all wanted to keep on living. That was something that he accepted. Even if he did not understand why they lived as they did, why they indulge themselves in such things.

It was something that he did not understand yet.

But it was something they all wanted.

So what if this one memory that was left behind was lesser than the sum of its parts? It was still tangible proof that they existed and strove for something.

There was a value in their anger.

He did not agree with it, he did not understand it.

But there had to be a value to their lives because they wanted to live.

Which meant if all that remained of their lives was their anger, it meant the anger had value.

…Didn't it?

He could not understand the value that was found in it, he could not see the value that was inside their anger but he remembered all of it the same. All the souls that burned within him, their combined weight and their fury.

He was an Avenger.

He would never forget a single one of their grudges and they all looked the same to him.

Staring out at the ocean of hatred and fury, at despair and misery.

They all looked the same to him.

It was…

He could not find the words for it.

He was not sure there existed words to describe it either but he just held onto the feeling, the strange sensation, that it was right for him to remember their anger. For him to hold onto them for whatever reason. Even if he did not agree with their lives, even if their lives were wrong in his eyes.

If no one remembered them, what was the point in them even existing in the first place?

…Why was someone born if they were not remembered by anyone?

Perhaps that was it.

Proof in any capacity.

Maybe it did not need to be anger or fury, but he did not differentiate between any of them.

The anger was easier to remember, he thought.

It came to him easier.

He would not say whether their anger was justified or not, he would not say he agreed with the way they lived their lives. He could see many within him who lived only for their indulgences and their vices and it troubled him deeply, it would not be wrong to say that it disgusted him.

But he acknowledged it.

He didn't get it.

It felt natural.

Like absorbing the souls of the fallen.

…Why were the answers never simple for him?

Why did everything need to be so complicated?

Mordred did not see reason to mince words.

"This sucks."

The lot of them crammed into one little metal coffin like this was utter stupidity and she would have thought they should take the stairs and not just because she was pressed up against the wall because of a certain someone being a damn nuisance.

Her hand brushed against the cloak and pushed it off her armour once again.

"Why do you even wear that damn thing?" She grumbled, though doubted she would get an answer.

Sure enough, the blonde didn't say a single word.

Her eyes rolled and she glanced across then frowned.

The snake was in her personal space and staring right at her.

"That thing licks me and I'm cutting it off."

"Thee can tryeth." Mordred would have laughed at the words in any other circumstance, but for right now she just shuffled rather uncomfortably and had to restrain herself from just swatting the snake away from her.

Not that she was alone in being awkward.

The same could be said for the other giant in the room who, unfortunately for her, wasn't built like a beansprout.

The half-dragon hunched down to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling and was casting a long shadow over the people she was looming over, namely shieldy and Master. Mordred did, however, glance down at the tail which was slightly raised and coming dangerously close to brushing against her leg.

Mordred stared.

…It did look kinda soft.

Her eyes danced up to the woman and then back down to the tail.

…Nah.

Sharply she turned her head away and looked across to the other person in the elevator who she hadn't formed much of an opinion on. Which was odd, given that they had literally slashed one of the horns off her helmet, but they hadn't done much else except for quietly following them around and sometimes speaking up.

They were at least useful in a fight.

So Mordred couldn't complain that far.

As for whether she trusted them or not?

…Well, it would be a little late to start voicing her concerns aloud now, even if she still held them.

"...We should take the stairs if we have to go down again." Mordred declared rather loudly, while it definitely wasn't her choice she was certainly going to make her preferences known to everyone. "Or we're jumping off the roof. We're just not doing this again."

The girl, Shiki, just hummed distantly before turning and staring up. "I didn't think we would all fit in here."

"No kidding." Master grunted from where he was pressing himself against the wall. "...Pity they don't have any elevator music."

"Oh yeah." Shiki muttered. "They normally have those, don't they?"

The mention of music brought a rather unpleasant image to mind. "Yeah, if Tristan were here he'd probably start trying to play his damn bow."

"...He'd play his what?" Master sounded rather weirded out.

Oh yeah.

He probably wouldn't know.

"His bow. It was this harp as well."

"...He turned his harp into a bow?"

"Nah, his bow was also a harp. He killed people with music."

"...Like Mozart?"

"I don't know. Does Mozart strum a harp and then cut a guy's head off with invisible arrows?"

Master leaned out from behind the shadow of Priscilla and raised his brows. "...That is actually terrifying."

Mordred rolled her eyes. "It's annoying is what it is. In the middle of a fight and then you just hear these musical notes."

"Yeah." Master nodded slowly. "Terrifying."

"Well-" Mordred stopped herself and then thought about it.

Actually, wait.

…Oh.

That probably would be terrifying if one realised that every time they heard a note, one of their comrades probably died.

Huh.

Was Tristan really like that though?

…No, it was probably a coincidence.

Still, if she ever met Tristan again she would probably bring that up in front of him just to see how he would react to it. She imagined that the face he would make would be at least a sight to behold or something like that.

"Yeah." Shiki hummed. "Sounds like a loud way of killing someone. Though if the arrows are invisible…no, it defeats the purpose of the arrows being invisible if you just announce you loosened one, doesn't it?"

Mordred shuffled. "I didn't make the damn thing so I don't know how it works! He just had a magic bow that played music and loosened air blades as arrows or something. I never really saw him miss anyone with them so I guess it didn't matter."

There was further movement as shieldy raised her brows in a puzzled manner. "Do you mean to say he also played it outside of battle?"

"Yeah."

Shieldy looked weirdly tense now. "...Weren't you worried when he did that?"

Mordred blinked, then thought of the implication.

Then she snorted and shook her head. "Nah. Tristan was stupid but he'd never let out an arrow by accident or something and kill someone in a tavern. He might have fallen asleep a lot but he was attentive with his bow at least. Weirdo that he was. Father wouldn't have made such a clumsy guy a knight."

Really, Shieldy should have known something like that, shouldn't they?

…Unless they really didn't know anything?

Geez, what was that guy even doing if he wasn't going to fill her in on all the details?

Well, not like it really mattered in the end. At least she could say that Shieldy hadn't really been corrupted or ruined by that asshole and made into the same sort of unfeeling jerk that he was.

So maybe a lack of knowledge could be excused.

Probably.

A sharp hum echoed out above them and the doors started to grind right before her eyes, her head turned and stared at them, peeling open and revealing the lobby of the floor above. She withheld a sigh of relief as she stepped forwards and all but leaped into the open, rolling her shoulders as she was finally able to move them.

"Yeah. Never doing that again."

"Again, don't have to tell me twice." Master chortled slightly. "I like being close to people but I also like breathing as well."

"Oh!" Shieldy sounded rather concerned. "Was I leaning on you too hard, Senpai?"

"No, you were fine. I was more worried about stepping on your feet more than anything."

"Don't worry about that, Senpai. My boots are super tough and definitely would be able to withstand even your strongest kick."

"..."

Mordred felt her lip twitch ever so slightly, her eyes slid towards the direction of Master and she found herself biting her lips to avoid laughing at the face that greeted her. The rather strained expression that was torn between being grateful and being marginally insulted.

Especially as it was done with such an earnest expression about her.

Shaking her head, she turned about and whipped out Clarent, flexing her hand around the sword and mounting it on her shoulder.

Then she stopped and stared.

Directly in front of them, right at the other end of the hallway, she could see it clear as day.

No longer did it hide and slither about, now it just sat under the light of the halls and stare at them, revealing all the sickly details that had been shrouded in shadow.

The snake with skin like oil and eyes like blood.

"...Oi." Mordred raised her voice. "Master."

She nodded her head forwards and drew the eyes of everyone to their silent audience.

"We got a welcoming committee."