41: Anger/Anger
Once upon a time, the City of Lyon was saved.
In the year 1643, the city was struck by the Black Death, and its people prayed for salvation. Soon enough, the plague passed, and to celebrate their salvation, the Municipal Authorities paid tribute to the virgin Mary. And every year thereafter, they would give offerings in remembrance.
I had actually heard of this story even before ascending to the Throne. It was quite famous, after all - but in this singularity, it is 1431, so such an event has not yet taken place. The Salvation of Lyon is still a long way away, and as I watch the town burn and crumble, I can't help but wonder if it will come at all.
"-Kuhaha!" Bitter laughter escapes my lips as I smile at the irony. "In the end, it all comes back to 'Wait and Hope' again, then! Just make it to 1643, and you'll all be saved, right?"
...In any case, I came here for a reason, so I might as well head over to take care of it. Cloak billowing, I stalk through the smoldering city streets, the black flames licking at my heels.
Eventually, I reach it. A small, unassuming house just like all the others. But I can already sense the Servant hiding in the cellar, so I can pick it out with ease. If I hadn't been sent here, he may have got away with it, but…
"...My so-called master can sense the status of all summoned servants, so it can't be helped. Curse your bad fortune, Dragonslayer. You were doomed from the start, even with that Saint's intervention." -Muttering such cruel words, I slip into the house.
The interior is a scene from hell. An old man is against the wall, a broken sword clutched in one hand, but his other hand and both legs are strewn across the room. His wife, meanwhile, has been painted across the kitchen table, where her blood has mixed with the liquid dripping from a young man pinned to the ceiling by one of Berserk Lancer's spears.
I burn the sights into my brain, searing the record of every atrocity into my heart. "...But the time isn't right. My so called master still has yet to reach maturity. And so, until the end of all this, I will carry your hate. For now… wait and hope."
The corpses smolder and burn. The tortured souls of the vengeful dead cry out, and the black flame billowing around me grows just a bit more. Idly, I slip the old man's broken sword into my belt, since I have a use for it. Letting out a small laugh, I kick open the cellar door and descend into the bowels of the Earth.
At the bottom of the stairs there is a cupboard. A little to the right, just slightly out of sight. The perfect place for an ambush - but I can sense Saber deeper within the cellar, so it would be natural to disregard it.
-a young girl bursts from the cupboard, and, with a cry of fury, drives Saber's blade into my back. I allow the attack to hit, out of respect for her spirit.-
[Oblivion Correction] - one of the innate skills of my class. A true Avenger never forgets when he is wronged. In a place like a Singularity, where time is not stable, and the past doubles back on itself, it can take the form of premonitions - visions of a future that once was. Or perhaps it's simply my own status as one who can slip beyond the shackles of time.
Regardless, I slip the broken blade across the handles of the cupboard door. An instant later, she slams against the doors, attempting to break free and strike me down, but to no avail. Screams and sobs issue forth in short order, but I pay little attention.
"Kuhaha! You would have succeeded, had fate not sided against you. Now, as for you, Dragonslayer - Sigurd, was it?" The Saber materializes in response to my demands - what's left of him anyway. His torso resembles a crushed juice box, and his entire body is spiderwebbed with black lines - curses, from his clash with my 'master'. But even still, the emblem on his exposed chest glows brightly, and he stands proud in response to my question.
"-that's correct. And you?"
"Berserk Avenger. The King of the Cavern." Of course, the Berserk part isn't actually accurate. Mad Enhancement doesn't really 'stick' to Avengers, because of [Oblivion Correction]. But lying to fit in with my 'allies' is fine. In any case-
In a burst of flame, slipping beyond time and space, I move to tear Sigurd's heart from his chest.
Only to bruise my fingers as my knife-shaped hand fails to penetrate his bare skin. Tch. So not Sigurd, but Siegfried - I guess I walked into that.
Before I can jump back, his left hand grabs my head, and smashes my face into his right knee, breaking my nose, teeth, and jaw - and then his left foot smashes into the side of my head, dashing me against the stone wall of the cellar - cheekbone, left shoulder, and three ribs, all shatter. My right eye is juiced like a ripe grape.
As I fall to the ground, his armored boot plunges towards my neck - but I barely roll out of the way, and before he can try again- "[Enfer Château d'If]!" I slip beyond the shackles of time and space, stumbling out the front door of the house.
My flames sputter, my form starts to break down- "Not yet, not yet-! [Attendre, Espérer]."
My body melts into golden mist, reforming itself anew - all my injuries heal, and my Spirit Origin pulses as my Parameters receive a rank-up from the Noble Phantasm's activation. "Kuhaha! Once more, then - I follow a path beyond love and hate! [Enfer Château d'If]!"
I pass into the house - now almost entirely up in flames - and intercept Siegfried as he exits the cellar in pursuit of me. He's retrieved his blade from the cupboard, but it won't save him from my strongest Noble Phantasm.
From his point of view, it must be as though I've multiplied - but all of my copies are but afterimages, and even as they release gouts of black flame at him, even as he cuts the curses out of the air -
My true body pops into existence behind him, and my right hand, coated in claws of black flame, punctures the weak spot on his back, and clutching his beating heart-!
There's a flicker of motion, and suddenly he's facing me, and only detonating my right arm in a storm of black flame saves me from his counterattack.
He jumps back as well, the cursed fire coating him already extinguished.
"...So this is the [Disengage] skill. I'll need to prepare something to counter it next time." I mutter.
"-Next time, you say." The remainder of my right arm is severed as I dodge his strike. "I'm sorry, but I won't allow that to happen."
"No, I'm already free - [Enfer Château d'If]!" - and with that, I land in the castle of Orleans, breathing heavily.
My so-called master growls at my return. "He's still alive."
"Obviously. You overestimated how much his injuries would slow him down." I reply, eyes narrowing. "Or was the 'he' you were talking about just now not the Dragonslayer, but rather myself?"
"Oh, give it a rest." Jeanne d'Arc sighs. "I've got enough stuff to deal with without your damn persecution complex."
"Yes! How dare you! How dare you besmirch the name of our great Dragon Witch, you filthy familiar-!" Berserk Caster shrieks. I ignore him, since he's worthless.
"-He was Siegfried, not Sigurd. You had to have seen that when you fought him, so why did you tell me the opposite?" I hiss. "I don't tolerate betrayal, my so-called master-!"
"Why would I remember one or the other? They don't matter. They're just obstacles. Obstacles to be burned-" She starts.
"No. No, you're doing it wrong, my so-called master. Slothfulness is unbecoming of a would-be Avenger. You must be meticulous. If you do not know everything about your target, your revenge will fail. If you don't prepare as much as possible, your revenge will fail." I rant, sparks spilling from my eyes.
"-Shut up, Count." She snarls, finally biting back. "It doesn't matter. France will be destroyed. I will destroy France, because that is why I exist. This mistake of a country, will burn and sink into the ocean."
Gilles gives his usual simpering encouragement, but I ignore him. How dull. This 'master', and the man puppeteering her, are far too dull. These subhuman existences aren't even worth casting into despair.
"-In any case, you have good timing, Count. A new servant has shown up, and I want to see her." Jeanne Alter says. "Lend me your Noble Phantasm, won't you?"
"...What did you just say?" I ask, eyes wide.
"Lend me your Noble Phantasm. I'll use a command spell if-" She snarls.
"Before that!" I start to smile.
"A new Servant appeared. I want to see her. What the hell is-?"
"Ha! Kuhahaha! -So you are capable of wanting something for yourself, my so-called master!" I laugh. "Thank goodness - I was worried you would remain stuck as a mere fallen saint forever."
"Shut up, or I'll kill you." She gives her usual empty snarl. "Let's go, then - they're moving towards La Charité. We'll intercept them there. Gilles, stay here, since you're useless without that tome."
He starts to say something, but I ignore him, scooping my 'master' up into my arms. Desperately, the flames of vengeance churn for release - but not yet. Not just yet. She'll be ready soon. Soon, my so-called master will grow beyond a mere humanoid wish. Soon, she'll have a human will.
And then, when she can finally understand the suffering inflicted upon her - only then, will I cast her into the fires of hell.
Until then, I will wait, and hope.
"[Enfer Château d'If]!"
Oh hey Edmond how ya doin. I guess you're French too, so it makes sense for you to show up...
Yes, Edmond did remember the contents of the previous Subaru death loop's ambush. But he misidentified the cause as timey-wimey singularity bullshit, since that made more sense to him than 'some unrelated guy's in a death loop'.
Siegfried almost died this chapter, but A-rank disengage is bullshit.
Chapter name is, of course, after the Myth & Roid song of the same name.
Next chapter in a few days, hopefully
Also, Merry Christmas.
Omake:
-This is the story of something that never happened.
To start with, there's no room for seasonal events in a story crawling by at a pace like this. And, furthermore, the tone is way off base, and the story includes several characters that have no business showing up this soon.
But, with all that said, it's that magical time of year again, where Saint Nicholas (who famously cut down a Demonically Possessed Tree that was probably unrelated to a certain Dead Apostle) circles the globe and leaves presents for good girls and boys (much as he once left three bags of money so a poor man could afford the dowry for his daughters and not be forced to sell them into prostitution).
That's right. It's Christmas time. And as anyone who's familiar with FGO will tell you, that means it's time for me, the author, to violate all the traditions and magic of the holiday season, for the sake of comedy.
Grab a glass of eggnog, huddle under a blanket, and relax, with this heartwarming(?) tale.
The Santa who Judges the Sinners, Part 1
"-ke up!"
Someone's shaking me awake… but it's cold, so I roll over and huddle beneath my covers, where everything is soft and warm.
"Baru, wake uuup!" she shouts again. "You're not Mama, so you can't just sleep all daaay!"
...I know this voice. A young girl, calling me by the last two syllables of my name. Yeah, this person is…
"Baru is being Slothful… Hm, then does that mean...?~" Typhon, the Witch of Pride, giggles menacingly. "Hey, Baru… are you a sinner?~"
"I'M AWAKE!" I scream, jumping out from beneath my blanket - and almost immediately, I regret it. "It's freezing! And it's windy! Hey, just what the he-eck is- wait, where am I? Are those clouds? Typhon, what is thiiiis!?"
"Heh, heh, heh! Don't worry, Baru! Typhon hasn't done anything unusual. This is just Typhon participating in Earth Culture! Come oon, don't you recognize it? Look at Typhon's costume, and the sleigh Finnie made for her!~" The Witch says cheerfully, and I poke my head out from under the blanket.
She's wearing a poofy red coat and cap, along with… is that a fake beard? Oh no. Oh no, no, no!
"You can't be serious." I mutter numbly.
"Wahaha! If an old man can do it, Typhon can do it!" She laughs, forcing an antler headband onto my head and pumping her arms into the air. "Come on, Baru! Let's judge the sinners!~ Presents for the good boys and girls! Punishment for the evil boys and girls!"
"No, that's not the point of the holiday at all-!" My attempt to reason with her is totally ignored.
"[White Whale, Compact Model] - descend!"
"Wait, we're riding what!?" I scream as the sleigh shudders and begins to spew fog.
"First stop, Clock Tower! Prepare for the judgement!"
"Oh my god, we're going to kill so many people…" I mutter in horror.
I find myself pitched forward in a tumble of limbs as we breach the Clock Tower walls. Oh God, look at that damage! Forget being worried for other people's lives, the only problem I need to think about now is how to survive Barthomeloi's wrath-!
Poor [White Whale Compact Model], on the other hand, is moaning in pain, with tears streaming from the sled-like creature's eyes. Ah, somehow, I can sense some kinship there.
-Typhon, seemingly unaware of my emotional pain and White Whale-kun's physical pain, pulls a long scroll from who knows where, and, giving a cute 'ahem!', begins to speak.
"Our first stop tonight is to visit little El Melloi, age 2!"
"Is it really okay to just blatantly steal someone else's joke like that!?"
"Hush, Baru! Reindeer don't talk!" She says, lightly kicking my shin. "-Little El's letter to Santa says:
'I just wanted a grand strategy game that lets me bring the Diadochi to heel and put my king's son on the throne. Was that too much to ask for? You promised that my choices would matter, but in the end, this is just a glorified dating simulator! I understand the need for marriage in political alliances, but you took it too far! I don't want to marry Princess Roxana, I just want to protect her son! And while we're on that, why is there no route that puts the poor boy on the throne? In summation, zero out of ten, give me more freedom, shitty devs!'"
"Isn't that obviously a videogame review, and not a Christmas wish!?" I blurt out. Naturally, Typhon ignores me completely, save for another light kick to my shin.
"The letter used a lot of made-up words Santa didn't understand, but she thinks she has a good present for him! So! Long haired old man, bring little El here, and let Santa Judge him!~"
The witch concludes her exclamation by pointing forward at - oh, I know this guy. He's definitely years younger, so all his hair hasn't gone grey yet, but…
"...I am Lord El-Melloi the second, yes." He says, taking a drag of his cigar and staring at the snow blowing in from the breached wall, slowly piling on his fine red carpet- eh, when did Professor Velvet start smoking? And he was the second El-Melloi? That's a twist.
He exhales and massages his brow. "Fuck. I can tell you're some kind of Servant, so the Santa setup is pointless. Cut it out already, and if you're gonna kill me, just get it over with. It's bad enough that you broke my wall and made me listen to that embarrassing screed from a month ago."
"E-eh!? But Typhon is Santa! Really, she is! Baru, you tell him!"
"Sorry, Reindeer can't talk."
"Ah, you're right!"
"Typhon, huh… The Father of Monsters, but you've taken on the form of a little girl. King Arthur was a woman, though, as was [Faker]… No, you're not that Typhon, are you? But the alternative is even more absurd - 42355 Typhon, a planet sharing its name with the mythical beast - if you were an Ultimate One, the Wizard Marshal would have already struck you down…" the Professor mutters, pacing back and forth.
"...Baru, he's saying we~ird stuff." Typhon says, tugging at my sleeve and looking up at me. "Typhon isn't a daddy, so what's he talking about, huh?"
"Ah, that's-" I start to respond, but the moment I meet the gaze she's directed at me-
Professor Velvet, whose movement I had harmlessly dismissed as 'pacing back and forth' - suddenly tosses his cigar to the ground, where it erupts in a plume of smoke, and takes off in a dead sprint out his study door, which he had managed to open while pacing without us noticing!
"Graaaaay!" - he yells the name of a color in desperation, which is never good news when Magi are concerned.
"Ah, Baru, he's running away! We've gotta catch him!" -with those words, Typhon latches firmly onto my back. "Forward, Reindeer! Santa commands you!"
"Nope. Not happening." I reply
"E-ehhh? But Baru, you gotta! How's El going to have a Merry Christmas if Santa doesn't judge his si~ns?" The little Witch whines, rocking back and forth to shake me from her piggyback position.
"No! Professor Velvet's a good person, so I'm not going to help you traumatize him! I refuse! In fact, we're leaving right this instant." Grabbing Typhon's legs to secure her in place, I start to climb back into the hideous horned sleigh we had arrived in.
"B-but! But if El isn't a sinner, then he doesn't need to be afraid at all!" She protests, forcing her way out of my grip - and then with the sound of glass breaking, she drops to the ground. "Santa's judgement doesn't hurt good people! Baru already knows that, riiight?"
"You just broke my arms off! Here you are saying all that, but you just broke my arms off because it was convenient!" I yell, pointing at her with my right stump. It doesn't hurt, and it can be easily fixed, but that's really not the point!
"That's just 'cause Baru's a dummy who's guilty about dumb stuff! Now wait here, Santa will fix you later!" She sticks her tongue out at me, and races off into the hall, with me hot on her heels.
"At least he got a head start, so he's probably long gone by now- or not!?" I yell upon seeing the professor doubled over, breathing heavily. Fifty meters!? He only made it fifty meters!?
"Now, let's see!~ El, are you a sinneeeer!" Typhon shouts as she launches into a flying tackle - and as she impacts him, Professor Waver Velvet breaks into a dozen separate pieces.
And then everyone starts screaming.
"Ahhh!" Typhon yells, clutching her bruised forehead. "Baru, he was weird like youuuu!"
"Ahhhh-!?" the Professor's head and upper torso scream in terrified confusion.
"Ahhhh!" I scream, completely mortified. Okay, it's fine, there's no blood, that means he hasn't been killed, he just felt guilty, I can still salvage this-!
"AAAAHHHH!" Screams a fourth person. "Teacher, you can't-! Ahhhh! Add-!"
The cage clutched in her hand bursts as a small silver cube floats to her hand - and from it, a voice emanates. "Pseudo-personality suspended. Mana yield exceeds regulation. Second stage restraint rescinded. Seal Thirteen… Decision, start!"
Something's familiar about this. I know, something's-
A blast of wind casts her hood off her face as she lifts her hand, blazing with golden light, revealing green eyes, grey hair, and- "What the hell, it's Arthur again!?" I blurt out.
"-Approved. Third Restraint removed." A shining golden cone of energy pours forth, and she begins to level it at Myself, Typhon, and the Professor's broken body
"[Rhongo-!" Ah, I'm going to die again.
"Wait, Lady, I'm still alive, and I'm going to be very cross if you wipe me out with that-!" The Professor all but screams.
"Ah, Sir-!" She exclaims, just barely tipping the spear into the sky as it fires, smashing a second hole in the clocktower building and arcing over the horizon, where it explodes in a fiery supernova so bright that for a moment it seems like day has suddenly returned all at once.
"Oohhh! That's really cool! Hey, is this that thing? You know, the shepherds looked up and saw a shining light, that thing?" Typhon asks the Professor, lifting his body to put him at eye level.
"It's not."
"-Heeey, Baru, help Santa put El back together! She can't give him his present if he's like this." Typhon says, holding up the Professor's torso and head in both hands - he looks so completely done with this, it's kind of hilarious.
"Help with what hands, Typhon!?" I yell, waving my stumps at her.
"Oh, that's right. Hey, hey, pretty-beam-Onee-chan, can you help Baru fix his hands, please? Santa will put you on the nice list, just this once! She won't even test you for sins!"
"I'm so confused right now…" Grey-haired-Arthur mumbles as the golden spear returns to a vaguely cubical shape.
"Eh? Hey, hey, hey, Gray, the hell's this!? Did you miss? How could you miss!? You even unsealed the entirety of Rhongowhatsit, and you missed them!?" The little box - [Logos React Replica], one of my scraps of memory from Atlas supplies - chatters crudely.
"Add, shut up." The Professor groans. "And so? Typhon, was it? -You're just going to put me back together again, just like that? Even though I failed your test?"
"Ehehe, that's funny, El! If you were a sinner, you'd be vomiting blood right now!~ You just broke 'cuz you were feeling guilty about dumb stuff that's not your fault." Typhon laughs off his concerns in her usual manner as she sticks his arms back onto his body. "There, now you can hold your present, so-!"
A ridiculously large bag materializes from nowhere, and Typhon reaches into it, pulling out - is that some kind of picture frame?
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!"
"What do you-?" Professor Velvet's voice catches in his throat.
Slowly, trembling hands reach for the gift, as tears start to stream down his cheeks.
[FGO Craft Essence: His Rightful Place]
"Aw, does El not like it?" Typhon sighs, starting to put it away-
"No!" He snatches the photo and clutches it to his chest as if it were his firstborn child. "No, this is-! Truly, truly-!" He smiles, voice cracking.
"-The greatest Christmas Present I've ever received."
"But you're crying?" Typhon tilts her head.
"I am. Since, adults-" He sniffs. "Adults are stupid, so sometimes we cry when we're happy as well."
"Ehhh?~ That's pretty du~umb, El!" She replies. "Hey, Baru, does that mean, that time you were talking to Dona-?"
"I'm not answering that." I deadpan, as… Gray, I guess her name is? Gray retrieves my arms and reattaches them, a small smile on her face as she watches the Professor weeping with joy.
"Ah, you did it! Thanks, Onee-chan! Merry Christmas!" Typhon shouts as she thrusts another strange photo into Gray's hands.
[FGO Craft Essence: Why Done It]
Gray's face goes red, but I don't have time to ask, because Typhon suddenly grabs my wrist. "Come on, Baru! We're gonna be late! Santa's still gotta visit a bunch of places!"
"Nooo! I was hoping we would end on a high note-!" I yell as she drags me to the [White Whale Compact Model].
"Santa's work is never done, Baru! Neveeeer!"
"Lady, can you stop stealing glances at whatever she gave you and help me with my legs?"
"A-ah! Right! Of course, Sir! Sorry, Sir!"
"Heh. Merry Christmas, Gray."
"...Merry Christmas, Teacher."
Review responses tomorrow, as it is late. Sorry this all took so long.