There is more to reason than simple logic, and there is more to logic than there is to reason. A conundrum, but one wholly in line with logic and reason's sole fallacy in any sentient individual.
Emotions.
Saber Alter spat blood out from a cut inside her mouth. The punch that had clocked her in the cheek had torn the inner lining of her bottom lip over her incisors. The subsequent taste of iron was a familiar one she'd grown accustomed to in both the battlefield and when bare-fist wrestling with Gawain on a sunny day.
Holding her temper, Saber Alter tucked away Rule Breaker and assumed a defensive stance. Whether the Noble Phantasm malfunctioned or not no longer had any meaning.
There was no such thing as a Noble Phantasm that was unable to perform its purpose, meaning that what came afterward was wholly intentional.
'That piece of shit.'
Saber Alter rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth, cleaning off the remaining spittle that had flown from the surprise attack while her expression twisted in contempt.
That's what she gets for being nice.
"-It's not wrong to save others."
Saber Alter shook her head, eyes seeing stars in a moment of dizziness.
"-If you can't be a hero, then I'll be one for you."
A concussion?
"-An Ally of Justice."
Voices and memories not of her own and shared through a strange dream cycle were playing within Saber Alter's head, dousing her rising fury.
Saber Alter stared at Caligula who remained in place after punching her. The mad emperor retracted his fist and stared at Saber Alter with measured rage bubbling within. And yet, he had yet to pursue and attack, but stood in place as if contemplative in the haze of mental corruption.
"Is this your own decision?" Saber Alter would give her last mercies. "How foolish. For someone directly involved, you should understand the gravity of your actions."
A flurry of wind, and Saber Alter narrowed her eyes, instinct taking over. Chambering her sword arm, she bent her elbow and grated the edge of her sword against the metal of Caligula's gold metal bracers.
Sparks grated before Saber Alter added strength and skill to divert the force to the ground before head-butting Caligula due to lack of space to maneuver her sword in close quarters.
"Argh!" Caligula flinched back.
Blood seeped from a broken nose while faint traces of magic energy covered Saber Alter's forehead, revealing that she'd summoned her face visor moments before impact.
Ignoring pain, Caligula persevered and wrapped Saber Alter in a bearhug, trying to snap her spine in two, but Saber Alter merely summoned the rest of her armour, making the effort moot.
Pitiful. Truly.
No, it was beyond that.
Saber Alter lowered her sword with a degree of exasperation.
For someone of Saber Alter's skill and experience, she could tell that there was no power or intent behind Caligula's blows and attacks.
Rather, wasn't it all for show?
Energy directed outward rather than concentrated to deal damage. The most it would do was leave a larger impression of violence and bloodlust in one's demeanor and approach. The spectating Romans were already murmuring loud enough that even Saber Alter could hear with her enhanced senses, but what was the point?
The most damaging was the madness infused energy coating Caligula's strikes, and it was negligible against Saber Alter's armor and natural magic resistance.
Then why?
Saber Alter then glanced at Nero in the distance and a glint of insight took root as she noticed Caligula's gaze had been focused on her all along.
"I see, is that why?" Saber Alter grumbled, still feeling the numbness in her cheek from the surprise attack in which she hadn't raised any defenses. Now she was annoyed. "Admirable, but misplaced when there is precedent to the order of things."
How did she come to this? Reasoning with a Berserker?
Dammit Shirou, he was rubbing off on her.
Infusing magic energy into her knee, she rammed it violently into Caligula's gut, weakening the hold he had over her just enough for Saber Alter to slam an elbow up into his chin.
"Grgh! Ugh!"
Choke on blood and die.
Finally releasing Saber Alter, Caligula cradled his face with his hands on reflex and Saber Alter kicked him away with a grimace. Yet Berserkers weren't ones to give up.
"Die!"
Clicking her tongue, Saber Alter felt as if she was being played as she summoned her sword and finally lopped off one of Caligula's arms. Blood splattered as Caligula staggered back, howling at a distant moon.
If he wasn't going to be an ally, then he wouldn't be of much use, so the effort was moot.
Saber Alter contemplated lopping Caligula's head off here and now if she hadn't been the least bit moved by the mad emperor's tenacious will.
There was purpose in the Berserker's actions that no madness could fully contain.
Staggering on his feet, Caligula charged once more.
Saber Alter didn't even blink.
She didn't even move.
Rather, she was never the target of Caligula's final charge.
"NEEERROOOO!"
Like a startled deer, Nero's eyes widened, her complexion whitening as her body simply reacted.
Warm blood splattered over Nero's face as her outstretched sword found its place stabbed through Caligula's heart. Whether it had been guided to do so or not was lost on Nero who was too focused on the expression her uncle was currently making.
In his silent eyes and beyond the anger and corruption was a steadfast affection she still remembered in her days as a child.
Wise Caligula. Uncle Caligula.
Why does he still look upon her with such a face?
Nero's hands were shaking beyond her knowledge, her pupils clouded with doubts and confusion.
"U-Uncle, why?"
There was no answer. Rather, the enclosed fist of Caligula's remaining hand opened and gently caressed the side of Nero's face before falling limply. If Caligula had it his way, the situation would have ended here with his Spirit Origin shattered and his refusal to continue living disabling his perseverance skills.
"-Do you not understand?" Saber Alter's pointed voice lectured from the side as she approached.
Stiffly, Nero looked at Saber Alter.
"A vibrant will remains in his maddenned eyes." Saber Alter said, watching the minute changes in Caligula's expression. "You are the Rome he wishes to entrust, and his defeat at your hands will become your wings against the influence of your Great Founder. Isn't that right, Emperor Caligula?"
From afar, the Roman soldiers Caligula led would not have been able to keep track of the rapidness of Saber Alter replacing Nero when Saber Alter first threw Nero aside. All they would have focused on was the 'black dressed' Nero still fighting Caligula.
Now with Caligula stabbed, and Saber Alter wearing her armor, the focus was back on Nero who 'slayed' Caligula.
Intelligence flickered in Caligula's eyes as his Spirit Origin began to shatter, his body breaking into fragments of glowing gold light.
He knew from the beginning.
Different from the other emperors, Caligula's era was the one prior to Nero's.
In the current age, many people were still alive in Rome who knew of Caligula and may jeopardize Nero's hold as the most recent emperor. Whether to ally or not against the troubles that haunt Rome, how could Caligula do that when he himself would create internal division?
Nero's pupils shook at the revelation. For all her bluster, she was no fool.
"Uncle-"
"Nero." Caligula cut in, the rare traces of a sane mind finally bleeding through the haze of madness from his Class and Legend.
"The era of the Great Founder has already passed, and his will lives on through us. Rome no longer needs the old ways and guidance, but a path to the future."
Caligula's weight pressed into Nero's sword, his body sliding down the length and towards the hilt where he rested his chin on Nero's shoulder.
"Dearest Nero, the poor flower that bloomed in blood and thorns, you are the future of Rome. Never waver. Never doubt it."
Nero's breathing felt like it was growing constricted, a warble in her lips as she shakily raised her arms to hug Caligula, but it wasn't to be.
Before she could complete the action, Caligula burst into motes of golden sand blown up into the wind, his will transmitting through.
"...You must prepare…the great..founder…marches…"
Nero opened and closed her mouth, her hands balling into fists as her sword clattered at her side.
A part of her didn't know what she was doing anymore as the roaring cheers of Romans reverberated from all around her at her uncle's passing.
Nero didn't even question it when Saber Alter faded away into motes of blue light when the soldiers came cheering and throwing her up in the air in celebration.
Her subsequent actions appeared almost mechanical.
Arrange her uncle's soldiers, integrate them into her Rome, and then let Lord Caesar organize the ranks.
Maybe even form a new triumph to parade through the streets and bring about festivities, but that was the furthest thing in her mind.
The most pressing matter was the arrival of more allies and leaving a lasting impression as the Emperor of Rome, but she somehow didn't find herself doing that.
In the midst of her actions, she found herself slipping away from the crowds and pursuing isolation. A quiet place where she could think and be on her own.
The irony of the location she chose would only have been known to Shirou who knew what she would do there in a distant obscured hill overlooking the blue sky. It offered a vibrant view of the setting sun over Rome and its people.
Truly, it was a breathtaking sight.
Nero found herself sprawled on her back, staring blankly at the clouds with bitter melancholy.
She was reflecting on herself, her recent actions, and most of all, the words of her uncle.
Sitting up, she hugged her knees to her chest and quietly tried to work through the storm of thoughts in her mind.
Comparison was too odious.
Nero's uncle had passed his will as an emperor to her, and this time in person rather than the fight for the throne with her aunt. The weight of expectation and duty were aspects Nero had already intended on carrying throughout her reign.
That wasn't the problem.
Not at all.
But uncle, why couldn't you see?
Nero pictured the scene of her uncle being throttled by Saber Alter, and the sheer scope of ability she possessed along with even Nero's perfect looks.
Nero pursed her lips, biting down on the inside of her cheek.
That level of power and ability…
How could she compete with that?
Nero's sense of direction was waning, and it was difficult to muster an expression that said she was unaffected by her shortcomings.
The people's adoration was her's, not Saber Alter's. It wasn't fair. She was supposed to outshine, not be overshadowed…
"I had a feeling that you'd be here."
"Ah you, how did you-?" A voice caused Nero to perk up from her musings. No one should have known this spot let alone sound the alarm to look for her so early.
"It doesn't matter." Shirou gingerly sat down next to Nero, staring at the same scenery she indulged in.
Somewhat flustered, Nero put her questions aside and awkwardly glanced at Shirou. She was wondering if Shirou was judging her considering she was out hiding here when there were things she should be doing as emperor.
"Ahem," Nero cleared her throat. "Our new allies-"
"It's fine." Shirou shook his head. "Saber Alter is acting as your proxy."
"Right," a light in Nero's eyes flickered.
A gentle wind blew as the voices between them died down to a subtle quiet, and Nero was more than willing to let it continue, but this wasn't the case for Shirou.
"That's not what's important right now." Shirou said softly, tossing aside the notion of explaining how reckless Nero had been to charge out on her own.
He chose in favor of another approach.
There were some things about people that anyone could see even without good intuition or personal observational skill.
"Forgive my impudence, but Nero, who are you comparing yourself to?"
Shirou decided to strike while the iron was hot, and to prevent the boisterous emperor from insisting or claiming ignorance.
"..."
Nero grew defensive, balling her hands into fists and curling in on herself as she shot him an annoyed huff.
If she wanted counsel, she would have sought it.
The swaying of the reeds along the hill continued as the winds began to pick up. It was almost idyllic if the backdrop didn't have the end of humanity hanging in the balance.
Nero was pouting, Shirou could see it, but it was even more reason for him to push on as she was the pivotal existence of the Singularity.
"I won't say whether you are a good emperor or not, but your efforts to protect the safety of your Romans and their devotion to you are real."
Petulantly, she still chose to remain silent, her arms now crossed.
"What is the Rome you wish to protect? A duty, an obligation, or is it not an earnest desire forged in blood?"
She wasn't listening, or at least using selective hearing, the right of a ruler and an imperial privilege.
Of course, there were some things you just can't say.
"A rose without thorns is not a rose, but a demure daisy-"
Slap!
"..." Nero glared at Shirou, eyes wet with unshed low self-esteem and the weight of a crushing burden over her shoulders.
She gritted her teeth, pursed her lips, and then walked off to be alone.
Considering Nero's history, leaving her alone to her thoughts was not the way.
Rubbing his cheek, Shirou sighed before he chased after Nero.
"Can you just-"
"No."
"At least-"
"No."
"Hear me out-"
"Umu, that's enough. You lack delicacy, delicacy!" Nero finally yelled, turning to face Shirou and poking a finger at his nose for emphasis. "But I at least commend your efforts towards me. Go on, try harder! I alone will be the judge!"
This woman…
As much as she was nitpicking, she was enjoying him chasing and placating her.
"Umu, that's right. That's the appropriate level to seek counsel with this emperor!"
In fact, she looked very happy.
"Umu. I am better. Let us plan for the march of the Founder!"
Was it a mere patch, or was the hole too big?
Nero craned her chin up with superiority, her rhythm of steps shifting into a nuanced strut like a peacock trying too hard to show off its feathers.
It was hard to tell.
Within the bedchambers of Nero's Golden Palace, the summoned version of Nero opened her limpid eyes and quietly assessed her condition by opening and closing her hands.
Then, as if to test her magic capacity, subtle malefic energy began to flow through her body.
Yawning, she frowned while trying to sit up.
It wasn't enough.
The connection needed to be stronger for resonance with the darkness within.
More hate. More jealousy. More lust and decadence.
She found herself summoned at an odd time.
Her gaze snapped in the northern direction where a familiar divinity of a man who was immortalized as a God continued his march.
Has he noticed her presence?
Interesting.
The Servant yawned again while observing the connection she had to the existence that had summoned her to this world.
"Founder, what will you think of my Rome?"
Fruit tastes best when properly ripened.
She closed her eyes and resumed her sleep, awaiting for the inevitable.
As it was written, so it will be.
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