II.
As Louise and Rider reached the turn from the Rue Vaugirard onto the Rue Servandoni where Grimaud's home was located they chose to dismount, deciding that the clattering footfalls of hooves echoing incredibly loudly from the buildings surrounding the narrow street was hardly of the stealthy subtlety required of them at the late hour. As they exchanged reassured looks they heard the sounds of some sort of struggle coming from the direction of their mutual friend's abode. Their optimistic expressions quickly shifted to, what that night had been more common, looks of concern as they raced down the narrow street, Louise preemptively producing a barrier despite her already taxed mana supplies.
Upon coming into view of Grimaud's home Louise was alarmed to see three familiar figures gathered together in the street. The door of the home had been completely smashed in, splintered pieces of it scattered across the street as well as into the home itself. Standing amidst the wreckage were the tall and imposing figure of Berserker, their left hand tightly gripping the torn, mint-colored shirt of Grimaud, and an extremely weak and unsteady looking Rosa. The young girl, whose posture and bearing did not usually paint a portrait of composure and health, looked utterly ravaged by the injury she had sustained. Her dress, once an elegant, even if slightly dirty, garment was now torn and wet, stained as it was with blood and black viscera. Her face only communicated how close she was to losing all strength, clumps of the black goo sticking her hair in greasy strands to her head, her mouth agape as ragged, labored breathes escaped from her.
Grimaud himself was, while far better off than Rosa, still visibly in some state of physical and emotional distress. His clothing was stretched, and beginning to tear where Berserker had grabbed the older man while forcibly removing him from his home. His face and right arm were both bruised, and some small cuts were criss-crossing other areas of his exposed skin. Moments before Louise and her Servant had returned Rosa had been in the process of applying her usual less than subtle method of questioning, though the faltering state of her body left it to Berserker to carry out the more physical aspects of the interrogation. When Grimaud had insisted he didn't know where Louise was, the situation had quickly gotten worse for him.
"Good sir, while I appreciate your position you must understand that my Master has insisted her connection to the young lady has led us here to your home. Now please, be a good sport and kindly inform us of her current whereabouts." Berserker's aggressively polite tone was, as usual, in stark contrast with the violence and discord that seemed to surround them.
"Berserker." Rosa mumbled quietly to her partner. She was sedated by the pain, but something was stirring in her. Something was coming undone, and her violent other side was starting to come to the surface once more.
The masked Servant looked up from Grimaud and saw Louise and Rider standing only a short ways off, both of them armed and poised for combat. "Ah-ha. Well then." Berserker loosened their grip on Grimaud, letting him drop unceremoniously to the ground. Whether from fear, shock, or due to the assault he had suffered, Grimaud seemed badly dazed, and almost on the point of falling unconscious.
"You came. Came for me?" Rosa half asked the question to Louise, half to herself, her strained voice only barely reaching Louise's ears.
"Rosa." Louise tried her best to keep her voice level, but her concern for Grimaud, mixed with how worn down she was from the earlier events, made it difficult. "Rosa. What are you doing?"
"Came here. You said. Said you would help. Please... help..." Rosa took a few unsteady steps toward Louise as she spoke. Rider, who had drawn both pistols before entering the street, was doing his best to keep a barrel leveled at both the opposing Master and Servant, despite Louise quietly trying to motion his aim away from Rosa. "Help ME." Rosa's voice rose several octaves then, becoming louder and more aggressive.
"I want to, Rosa. That's why I said I would." Louise dissipated the mana barrier, hoping its absence would help make Rosa calmer. "But if I'm going to help you, I need you to let that man go."
A look of confusion crossed Rosa's face then, as if she didn't quite understand what Louise had asked of her. "Man? What man?" Rosa turned her head slightly to look at Grimaud. As she stared into his pained face, fear in his eyes and flecks of blood caught in his sparse black mustache, something turned in her mind and the violent, angry supplications of Cornelius's ghost came rushing into her mind.
"Kill him. Murder him. Boxtell. He is here- he must die! Do it, Rosa! DO it for me. DO you hate me now!? Why do you ignore me? Kill him. Do it. Kill him. KILL." She could hear him screaming inside her head now, not the patient encouragements to violence he had practiced before, now it was a hostile lament, forcing its way into every part of her psyche.
"Aaaaauugghhhh!" Rosa let out a raspy scream before, defying the psychical limits of her battered body, leaping backwards to where Grimaud lay on the ground. Her knife was already in her hand when she reached him, and she was poised with the blade in the air, ready to bring it down on the hapless older man.
"ROSA, NO!" Louise screamed, fear and sadness in her voice.
Despite the sudden burst of capability she had shown, and despite the cacophony of violent appeals echoing in her head, Rosa not only heard Louise, but the sound of the other woman's voice gave her pause in her pursuit of bloodshed. She turned to look at the object of her affection, the sadness in her eyes matching the note of sorrow that had been in Louise's own words.
"I know you don't want this. Please. I can help you, but don't hurt him." Louise had lowered her voice again, but her attempts to stay calm were faltering. "Please, I can-"
Several things happened very suddenly then. Rosa's body was very weak and her mind was a complete mess in that moment, as a consequence her hand that held the knife twitched, the blade seeming to be headed straight for its intended target. Louise had, in her desperation to talk Rosa down, shifted all focus to the hurting young woman, and Rider had resumed keeping his aim on the opposing Master. When he saw the blade twitch, Rider abandoned all faith in Louise's attempts at a peaceful resolution and steadied his aim on Rosa, his finger beginning to squeeze the trigger. Berserker, whose gaze had not left the threatening posturing of their rival Servant, was quick to observe Rider's dedication to an attack and immediately went into action. As they had done so many times before, they activated their Noble Phantasm, and were now instantaneously in front of Rider, having completely disappeared from their position near Grimaud.
Rider pulled both triggers, one shot ricocheting off Berserker's mask harmlessly, the other flying into the air, the hand holding it having been swatted by the attacking Servant. Louise, on hearing the report of the firearms, but not seeing Rosa fall, rushed towards the disoriented woman and, before she could fall prey to her delusions again and resume her attack on Grimaud, tackled her to the ground.
The two wrestled for possession of the knife for a few seconds, Rosa demonstrating surprising strength considering her current state. Louise was able to eventually get the weapon out of the other woman's grip and tossed it away before the struggle could resume. "Rosa! Listen to me! Please, you have to stop this. I'm here now, I can help you!" Louise appealed to Rosa as she gripped the pale face of the unstable girl, dried blood and ichor flaking and smearing onto her palms.
As Louise tried to sooth and calm her fellow Master, the Servants commenced the rematch that at least Rider had been looking forward to with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Rider was not going to fall into the same trap he had before and, as he fired one pistol, flung the other at his adversary, using the moment Berserker spent guarding and dodging to use his now immediately free hand to draw his sword. His sword in his right, and the remaining pistol in his left hand, Rider seized the initiative and charged his unarmed opponent. "I would say en garde, monsieur, but considering you initiated the combat I suppose there is no need."
Rider's words were punctuated by the steel blade clashing with the iron mask, and the firing of the pistol once again meeting the retort of being smacked away. He was exhausted, and he could feel that his Master's mana supplies were also quite drained, but Rider knew that the only chance he had was to keep up the momentum he had won against Berserker. If he were to falter, or let up even slightly, the explosive rush down of the unpredictable Servant would easily overwhelm him, no matter how competent his guard.
"I must say, Monsieur Cavalier," Berserker replied as they continued to block and parry the majority of Rider's attacks, some choice strikes still breaking through and marking their flesh, "That I have found your talent for combat, both in our last encounter and now, quite impressive. Though it is a shame I cannot say the same for your capabilities as regards diplomacy." Berserker accompanied this vocal jab with a deflection of the pistol that, instead of merely swatting the threatening firearm away, turned into an almost unnatural twist of the wrist that allowed them to seize the muzzle, their palm wrapping around the end of the barrel.
"I've more diplomatic capability than you seem to have sense." Rider retorted. He pulled the trigger once more and a ball ripped through the center of the hand that gripped it and continued forward to once again clash against the iron prison that encased Berserker's face. Having struck the same place as the last shot, and being where several sword strokes had also found their mark, a crack spread across the front and top of the mask. "Ah-ha! It seems your armor is not as impenetrable as it at first seemed."
The gruesome wound seemed to have no effect as, despite the gaping and bleeding hole in it, Berserker's hand only tightened its grip on the offending weapon. Berserker used the moment gained, and the mutual restraint of them and their opponent to bring their head forcefully forward, aiming their own reinforced crown at their opponent's considerably less protected skull.
Rider pulled the trigger to fire another shot into the already ventilated extremity that gripped his weapon, but Berserker's crushing grip had done its damage and the ball backfired in the twisted and crushed barrel of the gun causing it to explode spectacularly. The force of the blast was, while small and localized, enough to momentarily push the combatants apart. Rider's hand was burned from the blast and lacerated in multiple places from the exploding debris, his glove rent apart and now barely present on his bleeding hand.
Berserker's hand had been completely split-in-twain, the two halves of it hanging limp and mangled from their burned wrist. The mask, which had also been incredibly close to the blast, was chipped and splintering all across its surface. Whole chunks had come away in places, exposing the pale skin beneath. They paused only momentarily before charging forward to continue the combat, seemingly completely unbothered, or even unaware of the damage to their limb.
Rider had lost the momentum he had so coveted and was now paying for it. Berserker's usual onslaught of wild and seemingly random strikes was not slowed down by the relatively useless nature of their right hand, the ragged stump still being propelled by the unnatural strength of its owner. Rider was barely able to parry and dodge the rain of blows that now assailed him.
Rosa's features were constantly shifting between expressions of pain, exhaustion, confusion, malice, and some indescribable grimace. Through all these conflicting emotions she kept her eyes locked on Louise who was still cradling her face and attempting to console her.
"You're gonna be okay, I'm going to get you bandaged up better. You don't have to hurt anyone anymore." Louise could feel tears starting in her eye and she spoke, unsure of how true her promises of Rosa's safety were. "I'm here now."
"But... Cornelius..." Rosa's voice was weak and quiet, her words unsteady.
"He's gone, Rosa." Louise pressed the other woman's face close to her chest. "He's gone. I saw it myself. You don't have to do anything he says anymore."
"Gone...?" The affirmation of what the rational part of Rosa's mind knew as true, but what the part of her that was twisted up in the Tulip's grasp refused to accept, caused a stir in her emotions. She could feel heat rising inside her chest, her blood coursed violently through her and her breathing slowly became more and more rapid and labored.
Several of Berserker's blows had landed, Rider's body bruised and crushed in places. He barely managed to duck under one attack that, when upon seizing his hat, had obliterated the garment in its crushing grip. Rider insisted on turning the tide and, from his now slightly ducking stance, drove the sword upward towards his opponent. The blade sliced across the surface of the mask, cutting its full vertical length from chin to crown. The force of the blow, surprisingly, knocked Berserker back, and momentarily halted their assault. Rider, battered, beaten, and exhausted halted his own attack as well, taking the moment as a reprieve in which to gather his remaining strength.
"Gone... Gone... He's gone." Rosa was breathing in fast, ragged, and gargling breaths now, her body convulsing as her thoughts raced.
Berserker stumbled, seeming to be off balance, their head hanging back down their spine at an unnatural angle. Slowly, their feet wide spread and arms outstretched, they brought their head back to an upright angle. As they did so iron shrapnel rained down off the mutilated face covering, the hinges in the back of it squealing in protest at all the punishment the item had endured.
"No... No... No no no no no-" Rosa's voice climbed higher and higher in both pitch and volume.
"Oh. I see." Was all Berserker said as the mask finally gave way, and what little was left of it crumbled and an iron rain cascaded off their now free features to litter the concrete at their feet.
"PLEASE NO!" Rosa screamed, her weakened arms unable to break away from Louise's concerned grip.
Rider then beheld the face of his opponent for the first time and, as he did so, that moment became an eternity. The quiet green eyes were set in a face that was stern yet beautiful. They were framed by golden hair that seemed to shine in the blue moonlight that filtered down. Their features reminded him so greatly of paintings he had seen of Jeanne d'Arc on several occasions. Just as great as that resemblance though, was another resemblance that he found even more striking.
"No. No no no." Rider's words a mirror of Rosa's own supplications. "No! It cannot be!"