Ch. 104 - To Perceive
"So, I'm guessing I'm well on my way to a nice, comfy white jacket?"
"We'd worry less about you if that was the case, but no, you are not, Ren."
Ren and Roman were in the director's office once more, with the former on the couch and the latter on a separate chair across the coffee table. It was in a cleaner state than it had been for a while, thanks to a Chaldean robot that came by about ten minutes ago. The only place that could be considered a mess would be the desk, which was buried under piles of paperwork while a hastily folded up blanket lay in the chair. However, Ren didn't mind the mess – it was an oddly humanizing touch in the otherwise very formal setting of the office.
For a moment he thought the doctor kept it that way deliberately like how he set up the debriefing after the France singularity – then he noticed the dark bags under Roman's eyes. No, it was more he simply didn't have the time or energy to organize himself at this rate. He could sympathize.
The doctor hadn't expected Ren to easily take to the session for his part. He expected the Phantom Thief to be a lot more resistant or paranoid, maybe find some sort of excuse to slip out. Instead, he simply asked when they should do it, which caught him off guard. Though he fully expected that getting genuine answers out of Ren would be like pulling teeth. Still, he had a job to do.
"It has been a while since you came to Chaldea," Roman commented, looking up from his clipboard. "What do you think so far?"
Ren thought about it carefully. Roman had made it clear that this was less a debriefing and more a psychological evaluation as well as a therapy session. It threw him back to those sessions he spent with Maruki back in Shujin in the nurse's office. All things aside, the counselor had done the best he could under the circumstances, and his various mental tricks were always intriguing.
"It's definitely been an experience, that's for sure," the Phantom Thief answered, glancing up at the ceiling as he reminisced. "Going back to different eras of time, meeting heroes and figures from history and legend, fighting alongside and against them, using my personas in reality… compared to my past adventures, this feels like a whole step up."
The doctor jotted a few notes down on his clipboard as Ren talked. "In what sense?" he asked.
Ren thought about how to phrase it. "Well," he said slowly. "Palaces and Personas are just cognitive locations – real but not real at the same time. But here, we're going to the actual locations and times of these events while encountering the actual heroes and legends as we do so. Though to be honest, the 'step up' comes from… well, how 'limited' everything feels now."
"What do you mean by 'limited?" Roman inquired.
The Phantom Thief organized his thoughts, considering how to answer it. How much did he want to reveal? What did he want to tell him or keep secret? He knew the doctor went out of his way to make sure he was comfortable - not just out of practicality or pragmatism, but because he just would. Chaldea on a whole was still incredibly suspicious, but did that apply to all of the staff? How much was Roman responsible, before and currently?
Then he sighed to himself. At this point all he was doing was overthinking it. He observed Roman in action. Trust never came without risk, after all – and he made his decision.
"Back in Tokyo, I suppose… everything was a lot bigger?" he tentatively explained, figuring out how to phrase his thoughts. "We all had to travel to different places, whether it was to pick up supplies or get to our target's destination, or even just to meet up and discuss our plans. And I'm not sure if you've been to Tokyo during rush hour, Roman, but you're packed into the trains like sardines. The stations even have staff designated strictly for cramming people in as much as possible. That… took some getting used to when I first arrived."
"I've certainly heard about that," Roman replied with a chuckle. "At first, I thought it was an exaggeration, but then I saw actual video clips. It must've been rather crazy."
"Oh, it was," Ren replied with a laugh. "There's just so many people in the trains, on the sidewalks, or just crossing the street. Look away even once and suddenly you're swept away by an entire tide of students, businesspeople, tourists, what have you. You just eventually learned to ride the wave and navigate it how you can."
His smile faded. "Here, though, it's… different," he continued, his mood diminished. "Most of the time when I walk through the halls, they're quiet and deserted. I know there are people around, of course, and the Servants are probably hanging out nearby in their spirit forms, but that's not the same. Even back in my hometown in the countryside, it was never this quiet. It just makes everything feel… small, if that makes any sense."
"Like the entire world has shrunk?" Roman suggested.
Ren paused for a moment to consider it, then nodded. "Like that, yeah," he agreed. "I guess in a sense, that's pretty literal too: The world's pretty much now just Chaldea and whatever singularities we hit. I'm in the spotlight again now but in a different way than back then. Back in Tokyo, I was just one face among millions, standing out only when I needed to as a Phantom Thief. But here… well, I'm one of the last Masters of humanity, and possibly one of its only shots at getting it all back. The spotlight is on me all the time now no matter what."
He rubbed at the Command Seals etched on the back of his hand. "If I had to sum it up," he murmured. "It felt like… back then, even if we failed, the world would keep spinning. We were doing everything we could to make sure people's lives were better, sure, but even if we failed, we just knew the world would continue without us. That was a thing that frustrated all of us then, to be honest. But even then, we had to at least do something."
"But here?" Ren continued, gesturing to the entire room and Chaldea as a whole while Roman listened intently, jotting down notes. "I don't have that same feeling. If I fail or screw up, there is no 'everything will go on without us'. It's either I succeed and keep succeeding, or we lose everything. Our homes, families, friends, all of humanity – it's all gone. So… yeah, that's certainly a huge change from before."
He looked up, forcing on a grin he really didn't feel. "I guess I should be careful what I wish for, huh," he finished, chuckling half-heartedly.
Roman frowned slightly as he jotted down more notes, glancing back to what he wrote before. From what Tamamo and Da Vinci have recently told him, Ren had apparently been working himself ragged: Whether it was talking to his Servants, cooking in the cafeteria, researching magecraft with Lord El-Melloi II, or exercising, there never seemed to be a time he wasn't doing something.
And then there was his worrying trend of risk-taking. Granted, they were all calculated risks that turned out well, but they had still been unnerving to witness. Each and every time, he put the burden on his own shoulders, believing – no, knowing he would be able to resolve them. And he did… often at great jeopardy to himself. That was something Chaldea couldn't afford. Even if Ritsuka and Morgana could theoretically pick up the slack, the psychological effects would be utterly devastating for everyone in Chaldea. They wouldn't be able to recover.
Still, he couldn't help but sigh to himself. "Know that feeling all too well," he muttered under his breath.
"Huh, I suppose you would, come to think of it."
The doctor flinched at the response and looked up from his clipboard. The Phantom Thief's trademark smirk was back on his face, his grey arms sharp as a hawk as he reclined on the sofa. "Been meaning to ask you, actually," he continued. "How've you been holding up yourself? Everything was just kinda dropped on your head after all. You look worse than me on exam week."
Roman could only inwardly curse himself. He didn't mean for Ren to hear that, and now the table's been flipped on him. Somehow he knew this would happen if he showed even the slightest opening. He cleared his throat to regain his composure. "This is supposed to be your session, Ren, not mine," he pointed out. "My personal matters aren't supposed to matter here."
"True, but so far everything has been out of the ordinary," the Phantom Thief countered in turn with a grin. "I don't see why this should be any different. Besides, I've only had one other therapist but I'm pretty sure most don't watch idols while cheering for them right before a session-"
"Gah-!" Roman held out his hands in front of Ren to silence him in a panic. "Okay, okay, you've made your point! I didn't think you'd notice that!"
Ren grinned. "I didn't," he replied cheekily. "I just made an educated guess. It seems I nailed it though."
The doctor could only stare at Ren, then gave a long, deep, exasperated sigh. "Has anyone ever told you that, in my professional medical opinion, you're bad for the heart?" he asked, running a hand through his limp hair. He should probably take a shower soon.
"A lot of times by my friends," the Phantom Thief responded with a bright grin. "And at least once by another doctor. So, again – how are you holding up?" Besides, if he had any actual administrative problems, he might talk them over with Olga. She might have better insight and advice on how to deal with it all.
Roman gave a flat stare at Ren, then sighed once more in resignation. "It's been tough, I won't lie," he admitted. "There's a mountain of paperwork to fill out, tasks to delegate, readings and personnel cases to consider. And of course, looking for singularities and working as mission control while I'm at it. It used to be worse too."
"Oh yeah?" Ren asked.
"Everything I used to do needed to be manually overridden again and again and again," the doctor elaborated, exasperated. "It's just a simple login thing, but after doing it for the thousandth time for every time you're opening a window, document, or application, it starts to get really annoying. It doesn't help when you accidentally mistype three times because you weren't paying attention and you get locked out of the systems while alarms start going off."
The Phantom Thief raised an eyebrow. "Lemme guess-" he began.
"I don't want to talk about it," Roman replied curtly, looking aside. "And don't ask Da Vinci about this either."
"I'm asking."
"Ren, please-"
They chatted and traded various stories about Chaldea, talking and complaining about various aspects around the facility. From the staff ("If Dustin laughs at Magi Mari so much as one more time-!") to the equipment ("The reason no one uses that particular console in the control room is because it's haunted," Roman declared seriously. "Da Vinci says it's not but ask literally anyone else and they'll tell you it is.") and even to the robots ("Have I told you about that one time a robot tried to vacuum up Morgana's tail? Pretty sure it still has the scratch marks.").
During a lull in the conversation after laughing about the last story, Roman looked over his notes. Ren's magecraft… it was something he certainly hadn't seen or heard of before. Well, the various techniques and mysteries behind it were familiar enough, sure, but the particulars and the concepts still escaped him. He couldn't help but be slightly curious about it – and maybe he would be able to lift that burden from Ren's shoulders by just a tiny bit. It was the least he could do at this point.
For a brief moment, the doctor saw a flash of flames and a kind smile, outlined by eyes full of ambition. He wondered if that man felt something similar before proceeding with his goals.
"If you don't mind me asking, Ren," he began, catching the Phantom Thief's attention. "You were looking into your magecraft with Lord El-Melloi II, right? I understand if you don't want to share anything with me, but have you found out anything about it?"
The question caught Ren by surprise. "Oh? Didn't take you for a magus," he replied wryly. "Is there a particular reason you're asking?"
Roman shook his head with a smile. "Nope, I can't use magecraft at all," he answered. "I did have to learn the theory and concepts behind it though for my work – I can't exactly do my work well if it's a disease or injury caused by some mystery or curse, after all."
The Phantom Thief stared at the doctor, then shrugged. He trusted Roman this far, and he saw no reason to doubt the man. Besides, maybe an outside perspective might give him something to work with. He launched into the details of his magecraft, beginning with how personas worked and how he summoned them, followed by how he and Waver discovered how magnetite and spiritron manipulation were the same thing.
As he talked about magnetites and spiritrons, Roman had to master his expression. While the names were different, he had experimented with the concepts before with a few rituals. A certain prayer or method invoked abilities that defied reality without utilizing magecraft. In the end, he set that knowledge aside, unwilling to harness a power he couldn't understand fully. To think he would see it being understood and utilized in his current lifetime…
"The current goal right now is to figure out how to reduce the cost of using my personas," Ren explained. "El-Melloi said that this can be done either by making their abilities more effective at the same cost or using less mana for a similar result. The problem, of course, is that we're not making a lot of progress either way. He's going to be teaching me the fundamentals of magecraft so with any luck, there might be a breakthrough then."
"I see. The fundamentals are always a good start," Roman mused, rubbing his chin. It did sound like a puzzle, especially given they were working with both tried-and-true mysteries and new concepts at the exact same time. The exact limits and functionality of it were still mostly unknown even to Ren himself – El-Melloi and him were simply outsiders looking in and trying to dissect it. His personas were basically projections, so perhaps…
"I read at one point," he murmured slowly, looking up at the ceiling in contemplation. "That projections tend to be more stable when there's some sort of anchor or support to work off of. Even better if you have the blueprints so you can work off of said anchor like a foundation."
Ren frowned slightly in thought. "Can you elaborate on that?" he asked.
Roman considered explaining a bit more thoroughly, then thought better of it and shook his head. He already risked enough. "That's all I can remember," he admitted ruefully. "I was busy cramming for an exam when I saw that and completely forgot to ask about it afterward. I'm really sorry about that, Ren. I'm not sure if it's any help."
"No, that's fine," the Phantom Thief accepted absentmindedly as his mind began working overtime. "It's… plenty, I think." A support or an anchor to work off of… there was something there that resonated with him, but he wasn't precisely sure what. It was just on the tip of his tongue. He would need to consult with El-Melloi about this – it might be the thing they needed to figure out some sort of answer.
"I take it you figured out something," the doctor guessed with a smile. He glanced over at the clock. "It's as good a time as any to end this session here, I think. How do you feel, Ren? Are you comfortable with this?"
Ren looked up from his ruminations and grinned. "Honestly, best therapy session I've had in a while," he answered earnestly. "I kind of expected something like either an interrogation or a school career consultation, so this was a lot more pleasant than I expected. I'm happy to do this again if we can."
Roman smiled gladly. "I'm happy to hear that, Ren," he genuinely replied. "There's a few points I want to follow up with you on, but that can wait until next session. Perhaps…" He mentally checked the calendar. "In about three days?" he suggested.
The Phantom Thief nodded. "Three days it is," he accepted. "I'll see if I can grab some snacks and coffee for us when we're chatting here – and three days is plenty of time to rack up a lot of new complaints about Chaldea and work, probably."
"Try by tomorrow," Roman grumbled, then they both chuckled in commiseration. "Though do try to remember that it's still your time, Ren. I know you want to help everyone you can, but we do want to help you too. I hope you're aware of that."
Ren forced a smile. "It's a little late to be paranoid at this point anyway," he joked half-heartedly. "But yeah, I'll keep that in mind. So long as you count on me when you want to complain or need help in turn, got it?"
"Is that something you're supposed to be saying to a full-grown adult, Ren?" the doctor asked flatly. "One who also is technically your boss?"
"Wouldn't be the first time, nor my last," the Phantom Thief easily shot back. "So, do we have a deal?"
Roman shot him a flat look, then sighed exhaustedly once more. "Fine, we have a deal," he accepted. He knew better than to argue with Ren on this front, not when the young man could argue circles around him. Besides, something mutually beneficial like this would probably be more helpful overall anyway. He might as well just roll with it in the end.
The Phantom Thief nodded as he felt the familiar warmth bloom in his heart once more. The Moon arcana. He hadn't expected that from Roman, but he was eager to see how it would turn out. It would definitely be different from Mishima's, at the very least. "In that case, I'll see you when I see you, Roman," he said.
"Of course," the doctor replied. He watched as Ren left and sighed when the door hissed closed behind the Phantom Thief. He hadn't expected to use his past knowledge in any manner. Heck, he had been avoiding it as much as he could. After all, he wasn't who he was before and was doing his best to keep it that way.
Right now, he was just Romani Archaman, the head doctor of Chaldea and now its interim director. A medical expert with absolutely no capability in magecraft. In theory, this was a new life, one that was dedicated to the preservation of humanity in all its forms. But in practice…
Well, that mattered little. The point was that he managed to get one of the most important sessions out of the way. He had expected a lot more resistance from Ren but it had been surprisingly productive overall – for both sides, as much as he was reluctant to admit. He certainly hoped he hadn't been that unreliable.
Looking back at his clipboard, he flipped over to the other two Masters: Ritsuka and Morgana. If he had been unreliable before, then… perhaps it was time to change that. Not too much, of course. He couldn't risk everything if it wasn't necessary. But perhaps, just a bit, he could use his wisdom to ensure their success. For a future he wouldn't be able to see.
He could only smile to himself before putting down the clipboard and making for the door so he could go wash up. Wouldn't that be nice?
The halls of Chaldea were quiet as they always were. The silence was occasionally broken by the hum of a robot passing by or the murmured conversations of staff members as they walked to their destinations. Outside the windows of the observation room, the eternal blizzard of Antarctica howled outside, yet silent within. It made the serenity within stand out even further in contrast.
On one of the benches, Morgana was curled up on a small cushion. Normally he would be with Ren or checking on things around Chaldea, but his best friend was currently in a meeting – or rather, a therapy session – with Roman. He figured he should probably excuse himself from that one since Ren seemed alright with it. And not to mention, after the whole affair with Elizabeth and her incredibly loud singularity, he could use a bit of quiet time to recover.
The observation room proved to be a perfect place for that. Even fishing turned out to be a bit too loud for his liking. He changed back to his cat form so he could fully relax. That singularity had perhaps been the most miserable he had been in a while: Getting covered in slime, which then had dirty, rubble, and soot stuck in his normally immaculate fur, then bombarded with Elizabeth's ridiculously loud music and the ultrasonic frequency in the labyrinth, followed by the dragon's roars…
He would never take quiet for granted ever again. And the silent blizzard outside was oddly mesmerizing to watch. Was this how Ren felt when he meditated? Maybe he should give it a try sometime after asking for a few tips from him. It would be a nice change of pace and a good way to gather his thoughts when things became hectic.
Then he shivered and tucked his paws in, loafing a bit more on the cushion he laid on. The only regret he had right now was not bringing something like a blanket with him. He'd have to remember that for next time.
"I didn't think I'd see you here by yourself, Master."
The soft words caught broke Morgana's reverie. Turning to see who was addressing him, he looked up to see Boudica smiling gently down at him. Folded her arm was a warm-looking bit of cloth. "Well, after everything I had recently been through, I thought I could use some quiet time," the catlike being replied casually. "Thanks for washing me up, by the way – really, really appreciate that."
Boudica's smile widened. When everyone had first arrived back in Chaldea, she had been one of the first to greet them – only to find they had raced to the medbay because Ren had collapsed from magic circuit overuse. Once everyone had been reassured Ren would be fine, she noticed the utterly ragged state Morgana had been in and offered to clean him. The catlike being agreed.
It was certainly a new experience: She never really washed animals except to prepare them for cooking later. Her hunting dogs usually did a good job cleaning themselves by jumping into a nearby pond. Cats were… an existence that helped get rid of vermin at least. But as tough as it was, she enjoyed the experience. It was especially worth it seeing Morgana come out soft and fluffy afterward.
"I'm happy I could help," the Rider accepted. "I thought you might be cold, so I brought a blanket as well. If you wish for some quiet though, I could simply drop this off…?"
Morgana immediately shook his head. "Nah, you don't need to head off," he declined. "Good company is better than just quiet. Thanks for the blanket too – it's a bit chilly."
"You're quite welcome, Master," Boudica replied happily. Unfolding the blanket, she carefully draped it over Morgana and tucked him in securely. The catlike being reached out in turn and with a claw, pulled the blanket closer around him. Soon his purrs vibrated around the blanket as he felt the soft warmth of the blanket fully envelop him. With a scenic view of the outdoors, this was bliss. He barely even stirred as Boudica sat down beside him, watching the blizzard as well.
For a moment, he felt like he was in LeBlanc again. The heater was humming as it warmed up the attic. Snowflakes gently floated down outside as Ren studied at the desk nearby while he was curled up on the bed, napping. The café had been his first ever home, and that hadn't changed. It was yet another thing he was grateful to Ren about.
Which made recent matters all the more frustrating for him.
"… There is a beauty in the harshness," Boudica commented after a while, watching the howling winds and snow cut through the mountain tops beyond.
"Yeah, there is," the catlike being murmured, barely paying attention.
The redheaded Rider glanced over. "Is there something on your mind?" she asked in a tone of mild concern.
Morgana debated for a moment whether to answer her or not, then let out a tired sigh. "Just thinking about Ren," he answered. "He's been working himself like crazy and I don't know if there's anything I can do."
That caught Boudica by surprise. "Has he?" she inquired. "I'll admit, he hasn't seemed particularly exhausted or burdened whenever I see him." Granted, the only times she had really seen him were in the kitchen as he worked, whether it's making his curry and coffee to the delight of everyone or learning a new recipe from Archer.
From what she had observed, he always met the staff and Servants' voracious demands with a bright grin and cheeky remark, even tailoring his coffee for anyone who needed an extra pick-me-up. He even worked to clean up after himself rather than just leaving it to the robots, making sure all the plating, utensils, and the various pots and pans were scrubbed clean while wiping down the counters. All signs pointed to someone who was diligent, meticulous, and studious.
She certainly could see glimpses of what the girls had fallen for, whether they had fully realized it or not. But even now, she knew there was more.
Morgana let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, Ren's good at that," he acknowledged. "Even when he's at the point of collapse, he won't let it show until it's way too late. He's been running around talking to Servants and staff, researching magecraft, polishing his skills, and god knows what from almost sunrise to dusk. I knew he was like this before, but it's even worse now!"
That piqued Boudica's curiosity. "You mean he was always like this?" she asked.
"Yeah," the catlike being tiredly confirmed, his eyes staring unseeing out into the blizzard. "Back in Tokyo, Ren always kept a packed schedule: Hanging out with his friends and connections, doing prep work for heists, organizing and selecting targets, studying, work, and more. If I didn't tell him to go to sleep, he'd work until the late hours of the evening on something or other. Heck, during weekends he'd often end up sleeping in because of how busy he got."
"And now, it's the same here," he continued. "Ren's been pushing himself more and more – maybe even worse now. He'll always tell me with a grin that he's fine, he's just keeping himself busy and prepared just in case. And I always have faith in him, but… I've been around him a long time and I can tell – if he keeps this up, he's gonna collapse. And as soon as he heals back up, he'll just keep going anyway if there's something he can do."
Morgana hung his head. "And… I don't know how to tell him to stop anymore," he whispered. "Whenever I do, he'll just say he's fine or he can keep going. He'd just tell me not to worry. But how can I whenever I see him? He doesn't even sleep properly anymore." He plaintively stared outside again, this time seeing his own reflection in the glass as opposed to the blizzard. He was more than aware he was smaller than almost everyone, but it wasn't often he actually felt small.
And right now, seeing himself loafing under the blanket… he felt tiny.
"So now I'm just here, gathering my thoughts and thinking of what to do," he finished. "Short of maybe getting others to strap him to a bed and making him rest, there's gotta be another way. I'm just coming up empty at the moment but… well, if he's gonna be stubborn about working then I've gotta be just as stubborn about making sure he rests. It's only fair, right?"
Boudica chuckled quietly. "Yes, I suppose so," she agreed before turning back to look outside. Both Mash and Ritsuka gave nothing but praise for Ren's skills, intelligence, and strength – and his charm if she looked between the lines. However, Morgana had painted a different picture than she had expected. What was that saying about burning bright yet lasting only half as long? Still, the contrasts in what she heard both intrigued and worried her. Perhaps it was about time she had a talk with him herself and saw what her Master truly was like.
But that could wait for a bit longer. For now, someone else needed her company. Morgana looked a bit better having gotten everything off his chest and was quiet now, and the Rider was glad for it. The Masters had a heavy burden and if she could help out, then she would. Reaching over, she gently began petting Morgana's head, who after a moment of surprise, leaned into her hand while purring gently.
The Iceni queen smiled, admiring the softness of her Master's fur underneath her fingers. At least now she understood why people enjoyed cats. This was delightful.
"Hey, Archer? Boudica? Are either of you busy by any chance?"
Boudica looked up in surprise as Ren's voice resounded in her head. As she continued petting Morgana, she answered, "Not especially on my end, Master. Is something the matter?"
"What's going on?" came the deeper timbre of Archer's tone. "Is there an emergency?"
"You could say that," Ren replied with an air of lightness that masqueraded a layer of sheer desperation. "I'm in the kitchen right now and, uh, I basically had a horde come in. I'm working with Jeeves right now but it's getting a bit busy here. If you guys could spare a moment…?"
"It seems the lunch rushes of humanity never change," Archer noted with some amusement. "I'm en route. Hold the line."
"No promises at this rate, Archer, but I'll do what I can," Ren replied gratefully. "Boudica?"
She looked back down at Morgana, who was now staring up at her in concern. "I'll be there momentarily," she reported, standing up.
"You two are lifesavers," Ren replied gratefully. "I'll try to hold on until reinforcements arrive." With that, the Phantom Thief cut the mental link – most likely to focus on cooking.
"Something up?" Morgana asked as Boudica stood up.
"It seems the cafeteria's much busier than Ren anticipated," the Rider explained. "He's called for me and Archer for backup. I apologize I can't keep you company any further."
Morgana frowned and hopped off the bench himself, transforming back into his Metaverse form. "No need, I'm coming too," he stated immediately. "At the very least I can help Joker manage things. Come on, no time to lose!"
Boudica nodded. As they raced off, she spared a glance over at the discarded blanket before turning away. A robot would most likely pick it up later. And if not, she could take care of it herself. In the meantime, she had more important business to attend to.
Once they reached the cafeteria, they quickly saw the problem: The cafeteria was packed with a large number of staff as well as Servants, all clamoring for various foods and coffee. Ren was currently in the kitchen, racing from pot to pot, while Jeeves moved rapidly with its usual machine precision. Mash was also currently behind the counter, serving out orders and calling new ones behind her shoulder while Ritsuka was making sure everyone was forming a decent line without pushing to the front.
"Yep, this is bad," Morgana stated.
"Indeed," Boudica agreed shortly. Without further preamble, she walked toward the kitchen, only sparing a glance for Archer as he appeared beside her. Pushing open the doors, they stepped in. "Good to see you here too, Mash," she greeted with a smile.
The Shielder looked up in surprise. "Boudica!" she cried. "Are you here to help as well?"
The Rider giggled. "I am," she confirmed. "Pass me the next order, if you would?"
Mash looked back over and took a scribbled down order from a hanging pin, then passed it over to the Iceni queen before taking another plate of curry that Ren passed up from behind her. Boudica took a quick look at the order – a rather simple one of bacon and eggs, thankfully – and started striding toward the storeroom to get the ingredients.
Meanwhile, Archer walked up to Ren. "I'll take care of the curry," he reassured the Phantom Thief with a smirk. "You handle the coffee. No matter how hard I try, I can never get it quite right."
Ren smirked in turn. "Don't let my mentor hear you say that or he'd roast you harder than the beans," he shot back. "Add those grated apples over there to that pot of curry simmering there. The sweetness should-"
"Got it," Archer replied, taking the chopping board with the ingredient and pouring it into the curry before taking a ladle and stirring it. The Phantom Thief grinned. He took a quick glance at the rice cooker to check its status (still cooking) before focusing entirely on the coffee machines. Nearby were a stack of orders he hadn't been able to get to since they required more dedication than he had time or hands for. But now with Archer and Boudica in the fray, he was able to give the brews his undivided attention.
"Alright, whoever's grabbing seconds, hop over to this second line!" Morgana hollered out. "Anyone who hasn't ordered or eaten yet gets priority! No complaining or you get nothing!" As everyone moved, the main line became vastly shorter, allowing the kitchen crew to prioritize their dishes accordingly.
"Hey, Cu, I see you over there!" Ritsuka snapped, noticing the blue Lancer in the main line. "This is your third serving! Second line! Move it!"
Cu Chulainn scowled while everyone around him just chuckled at him. "Man, you act like my teacher sometimes," he grumbled as he nevertheless shuffled to the back of the secondary line. As he waited, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the bones within pop as he looked about him casually to see who was here – and noticed a large, olive-skinned man dressed in a bronze cuirass in the main line next to him. "Oi, you one of the new Servants?" he asked.
The man turned in surprise, then nodded. "Indeed, I am," he confirmed. "I am Leonidas of Sparta. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"
The name immediately clicked in Cu Chulainn's head. "The legendary Spartan king, huh?" he mused. "Neat. Name's Cu Chulainn. Guess we're gonna be buddies here."
Leonidas's eyes widened in recognition, then broke into a delighted grin. "The Hound of Ulster," he agreed. "It shall indeed be an honor to fight alongside you. Permit me to ask, but would you care for a spar after we eat? I wish to witness your skills firsthand."
The Irish hero broke out into raucous laughter. "Now you're speaking my language!" he cried, throwing an arm over the Spartan's shoulder. "I think you and I are gonna get along just fine!"
"I could not agree more, Cu Chulainn!" Leonidas roared in reply. "Nothing makes battle sweeter than a good comrade! And it shall make the food and drink taste all the better too!"
"Man after my own heart!"
Both men roared loudly in laughter, catching everyone's attention. Ren leaned back to see the two Lancers talking excitedly while Morgana was yelling at them to get back in their respective lines. He could only chuckle as he turned back to the coffee brewing. It was always good to see the others getting along.
"Umu, such comradeship is good to see!" Nero's bright voice floated in. "This is truly a glorious spectacle to witness!"
"… Hey. Who's the shortstack here?"
"Short?!" echoed Nero in irritation. "I shall have you know I am Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, the Flower of Olympia and the pinnacle of beauty! What I lack in height I more than make up for-!"
"Yep, can totally see that, so cool it a little?"
"Unfortunately, Cu Chulainn, Romans have one thing in common with Spartans: Our blood runs far too hot. Isn't that right, Nero?"
"Well spoken, Leonidas! In fact, perhaps I should give an impromptu performance-!"
"Do not," came Artoria's stern denial.
Ren's smile became exasperated. Well, mostly getting along.
It took the better part of an hour to make it through the lunch rush. Once they were done with the main line, all that remained were people who wanted extra helpings – of which there were quite a few. It was mostly the Servants, though a few of the staff had surprisingly large appetites as well. Still, before long, activity had dwindled down. Everyone had their food and were eating and chatting with each other, while the kitchen staff worked at a more sedate pace and began cleaning.
Cu, Leonidas, and Nero were at the counter, each with their own plate of curry and coffee. "I must admit, the irony does astound me, Leonidas," Nero remarked. "That you would try to circumvent our defenses by taking a mountain path around us. Was that not how you and yours were undone in your legend?"
The Spartan king chuckled. "The comparison wasn't lost on me even then, no," he agreed with a broad grin. "It was rather humorous when I thought about it: I as the aggressor this time, while you and the Romans were in my position. With all of you pinned in the front, it would've been rather easy to catch all of you off guard had I managed to get into position in time. But as you are both aware, that was not to be."
"Thanks to our ridiculous Master," Cu supplied with a grin. He turned to Ren. "Oi, kid!" he called over. "Lay it out for us – why the hell did you rush off by yourself to stop a goddamn Servant and a detachment of two hundred soldiers? Even I'm not crazy enough to do something like that unless I gotta!"
"Indeed, I'm curious about the answer myself," Leonidas mused. "As crafty and powerful as you are, you still moved to engage a Servant by yourself. Reckless you may be, but not a fool. Had things gone wrong, it would've been easy for me to dispatch you."
Ren looked up from stirring the last pot of curry and shrugged with an easy smile. "It was a risk," he admitted. "But everyone else was tied up dealing with the main force. We couldn't spare anyone more fitting to intercept you and by the time we could, you'd already be hammering us from the other side. So out of everyone, I was probably the most qualified to at least delay you."
"Umu, I understand the reasoning," Nero noted, her face uncharacteristically serious. "However, Leonidas could have easily dealt with you and pushed forward. I need not elaborate the consequences if that had come to pass."
"Like I said, it was a risk," the Phantom Thief reiterated. "I was banking on three things from you, Leonidas: your honor, penchant for pageantry, and reluctance to actually win. Had any of those been missing, then yeah, I probably would've gotten a spear in my gut for my troubles."
He turned and grinned at the Spartan king's sheer amazement. "Thankfully, it looks like I got a pretty good read on you, Leonidas," he finished.
Leonidas's mouth dropped a bit, then he began bellowing loudly in laughter. "You have!" he guffawed. "I am glad to know that your various tricks don't only include your personas, Ren Amamiya! Once more, I am glad that I fight alongside you! But how did you realize I was reluctant to seize victory?"
Ren held up two fingers. "First clue? I went over the campaign with Nero no small number of times, including various reports and paperwork," he explained. "Very long story short: with you, Romulus, and Caesar in charge, if the URE actually wanted to win, then the Roman Empire would've been lost a long time ago."
Nero nodded in confirmation as she quietly reflected on her other self's memories. She did have that conversation with Ren during the campaign and recalled the accompanying frustration and despair that came with it. The emperor was no stranger to losses, as perfect as she may be, but even she would be hard pressed to bounce back from that. Chaldea's intervention and Ren's actions had been nothing short of a miracle for that entire campaign.
"Second clue?" the Phantom Thief continued. "You asking us to surrender and that comment about not wanting to stain your bronze. We didn't just jump right to fighting, after all, and you were a warrior of honor – both for yourself and your opponents. So with all of that in mind, I thought I could stall you for a bit."
"Yeah, but did you have to fight all two hundred soldiers?" Cu shot back skeptically.
Ren paused for a second to consider, then laughed ruefully. "I probably could've delayed things with a bit more talking," he admitted. "But Leonidas is more a man of action than words, right? I don't think talking wouldn't have been as effective."
"It would not," the Spartan king confirmed. "But it nevertheless was an extreme risk you took, Master. In the future, perhaps you might be able to find other solutions to such a conundrum."
"I still haven't made up my mind whether to clock you on the head or congratulate you on your guts," the Irish Lancer groused. "But well, you're here safe and sound after achieving a feat that most would expect of a Servant. I suppose we'll just call it a day. For now, more grub- oi. Nero, you okay there?"
Ren looked up at Cu Chulainn's question and noticed Nero grasping at her head, her face twisted in pain. She looked up and forced a smile though it looked more like a grimace. "Ah, it is one of my migraines," she responded weakly. "It shall pass. Just… grant me a moment to compose myself."
Ah, right. Nero suffered from those chronic migraines from being poisoned. He didn't think that would carry over as a Servant. Did chronic conditions always carry over from life? An eternity of those same problems, without the relief that modern medicine could now provide. Even his own healing spells couldn't help in that regard – they only restored someone to what was considered their 'normal' state. And since what plagued them was now baked into their existence…
He switched personas in his mind, wondering if what worked before would work now. There was really only one way to find out. "Clotho!" he called out.
In a burst of blue flame, the Spinner of the Thread came into being. Both Boudica and Archer jumped a bit in surprise while Leonidas and Cu Chulainn looked over in curiosity. Their recognition was clear in everyone's eyes, but everyone refrained from commenting their opinions – if Ren was bringing out a persona now, then there was a reason for it. With a wave of its spindle, a green glow emitted from Nero before fading away. As Clotho vanished from existence, everyone watched for the results.
Nero looked up, blinking. "My migraines," she whispered. Then she burst into a cheerful grin. "You had done this for my other self, but I did not think it is effective even now. Once more, I can only thank you profusely, Master. I can tell my time here in Chaldea will be even more pleasant and grand than I initially anticipated."
The Phantom Thief grinned. "Happy to help," he easily replied as he returned to stirring the curry. His circuits barely even warmed up from summoning Clotho. He needed to thank Olga for all her work at the next opportunity. "I wasn't sure if it was gonna work, but I'm glad it did."
"Umu! It was worth it!" the emperor declared. "Allow me to reward you for your service, Master, with a performance penned by yours truly-"
"You are not to disturb my meal, Nero," came Artoria's sharp reply from somewhere in the cafeteria. "Find a concert hall if you wish to indulge in one, but do not disturb others from their food."
"I see no reason why there can't be a mid-lunch performance," Nero groused. "But very well. Besides, it is perhaps better when everyone has their full attention to the performance as opposed to being distracted by such delectable dishes. Your wisdom truly matches that of sages, Artoria – as befitting my descendent!"
Ren couldn't see Artoria from where he was but he could tell she flinched at that last bit. 'Thanks for the save, Artoria,' he mentally whispered to the king.
'It was admittedly more for my own benefit than for yours, Master, but I shall accept it nevertheless,' Artoria wearily replied. 'Though if you wish to repay me, I would like one more serving of your curry.'
How many dishes of that did she have now…? Well, no matter. 'Coming right up,' the Phantom Thief easily accepted. It was the least he could do for her at this point.
In the meantime, he glanced over at Nero, who was talking garrulously to Marie behind her. Since she was summoned, he never had that feeling he was being stared at by whatever lurked within the living Nero. Maybe it didn't transfer over with her becoming a Servant, yet her migraines did? He wasn't about to pretend he fully understood how it worked, but at least it wasn't another thing he had to worry about.
Before long, people finished their dishes and began filing out of the cafeteria, whether returning to their work or working on something else. Cu and Leonidas were among the first to leave, eager as they were to spar and compare each other's martial skills. Archer and Boudica were among the last to leave, making sure to tell Ren not to work too hard.
"When have I ever," Ren joked. The unamused stares from the two Servants were answer enough. They left, soon leaving the Phantom Thief alone to finish cleaning up the kitchen while Jeeves washed the dishes. And…
"It feels odd watching someone of your caliber doing something so menial," Nero noted as she watched Ren work from the counter.
Ren looked up with a wry smile. "Does it seem too demeaning for me?" he asked.
The emperor shook her head. "While normally I would say so, it feels as natural as the stage is for me," she elaborated. "But then, perhaps everything is the perfect stage for you – the kitchen, the battlefield, the training room…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Even Chaldea itself," she finished.
The Phantom Thief froze for a split second, then smiled again as he finished wiping down the stove. "'All the world's a stage,' as the line goes," he murmured. "'And all the men and women merely players.' In that sense, yeah, everything's a stage for me. I just put on whatever masks and do what I have to do – or rather, what I can do."
He turned back to Nero, his grey eyes meeting her green ones like they did so many times. "Isn't that the same for you, Emperor of Roses, the Flower of Olympia?" he asked in turn.
Nero's eyes widened, then she sighed. "Perhaps it is so, one way or another," she admitted. "But at the very least, there were times when I could at least lower my own mask for a bit. Times I shared with my Praetor and… with you, Ren Amamiya. Times where I was simply Nero – no more and no less.
She looked back up at him, sadness clear in her eyes. "Are you not able to slip your own masks?" the emperor asked. "Or more accurately, do you not allow them to slip off, if only for your own sake?"
Ren paused, then once more gave a rueful smile. "A small misunderstanding," he gently corrected as he leaned on a counter. "It's not a matter of slipping them on or off. My masks are who I am, and I am my masks in turn. One and the same. I understand your concern, Nero, but… it's fine. Thanks for looking out for me, though."
Nero said nothing, simply staring at Ren as she tried to discern what lay past the sharp, kind grey eyes of the Phantom Thief. "If that is what you say, Master," she finally conceded, standing up from her chair. "In that case, I shall take my leave. When you have an opportune moment, do attend a recital of mine. I promise you it shall be as grand as I am."
"I expect nothing less," Ren easily replied. "Looking forward to it."
The emperor turned to walk away. At the cafeteria door, she turned back to look at Ren, who was just hanging up his apron, then finally left. 'You knew him less than you thought,' she quietly admonished her other self.
Only silence met her words.
Tired.
That lunch rush had been far more than he had been expecting. He wasn't even sure what happened – one moment it was quiet, the next a bunch of staff and Servants showed up at once. And when he thought it might die down, even more began appearing. Before the Phantom Thief knew it, he was dancing from dish to dish, pot to pot, trying to manage all the orders alongside Jeeves. Ritsuka and Mash saw the horde and immediately jumped to help, but he needed backup actually cooking regardless.
But now he was done – and he was left with that conversation with Nero on his mind. Well, not just her; from both Roman and Morgana as well. They had all shown concern that he had been pushing himself too hard and truth be told, they weren't wrong. It had been a while since he felt this wiped out. He had considered taking it easy, but there was still so much to do and so much he could do. There had already been too many screw-ups from him already. He needed to be better.
Rubbing his eyes, he quietly took off his apron as he went over what he needed to do next. He had taken a bunch of notes about personas and magecraft from Lavenza and Olga the other night. It would be a good idea to review those and discuss them with El-Melloi the next time he saw them. Oh right, he also woke up a bit later than he expected and missed his morning exercises. He should do those too.
Then suddenly, he felt a shiver down his neck: The sensation of being stared at once more. And it felt sharper than ever. Whipping around, his eyes turned red as his Third Eye activated. He saw Nero disappearing out of the door-
And the being was right there. Formless and shapeless, yet it was there nevertheless. Its attention and its presence felt far stronger than ever. It wasn't like that time back in the Roman singularity, where it simply felt like he was being observed. Was it because Nero was summoned here as a Servant, or was it a different matter entirely? It felt far sharper and hungrier than it had ever been before. It felt like he was in the eyes of a predator.
No. A predator wasn't a good way to describe it. This was something vastly more malevolent and crueler. It was like something that had just found a new toy and had no intention of relinquishing it anytime soon. For a split second, he thought he saw a pair of giant red claws curling and surrounding him, about to enclose and suffocate his existence. His breathing became labored as he struggled to breathe, forcing oxygen into his lungs. His vision swam as everything spun around him-
Then he blinked and suddenly, nothing. He could breathe normally again. The claws were gone, and so was the presence. His eyes were sore as they turned back to normal. That was something he hadn't expected or experienced before. Just what in the world happened?
Before he could process it any further, a familiar mental presence barged into his thoughts. 'Arsene?' he asked in surprise. 'What-?'
'You are needed in the Thieves' Den,' Arsene stated. 'Immediately.'
Ren's eyes widened. His true self was never this serious or blunt – not unless the situation absolutely called for it. And if that was the case, then he had absolutely no time to waste. He rapidly switched masks in his mind. "Succubus!" he called out. The bewitching persona immediately came forth in a flash of blue flame. Normally bearing a seductive smile, her expression was abnormally grim as she raised a finger and pointed it at Ren. At the gesture, the Phantom Thief immediately collapsed on the spot as he fell into a deep slumber.
Dashing into the Den, the Phantom Thief quickly noticed the ambiance was far different than how it usually was. The lights had dimmed considerably, casting much of the area in shadow. Outside the LeBlanc exhibit was an entire horde of personas, all of them warily facing the café as if prepared for a fight. Lucifer and Metatron flanked the door while Satan was positioned nearby.
As he stepped forward, the personas noticed and parted to let him pass. He glanced up at both Lucifer and Metatron as he approached the door. "How bad?" he asked shortly.
Though Metatron's metallic face didn't change, Ren could tell he was frowning. "You will know once you step inside," he replied solemnly. "I advise the greatest caution." Lucifer nodded in agreement, which alarmed Ren even further. It was rare for the two to agree on a matter, especially when it came to a warning.
"Got it," he replied with a nod. "Thanks for letting me know." Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door. Both Olga and Lavenza looked up while Arsene kept overwatch in a corner. Both Attendants were here. Not a good sign.
"Amamiya," Olga greeted, her voice tight with tension.
"Trickster," said Lavenza, her normally airy tone reflecting her seriousness.
"Olga, Lavenza," the Phantom Thief greeted in turn. As the Attendants turned their attention back, he looked up and saw the last occupant of the café.
A taller woman, dressed in a transparent, red robe, as at the counter. Slits were cut across the sides, revealing her bare skin and curvaceous body. Her arms were bare, showing red scales that contrasted sharply against her pale skin. A pair of horns curved around her head in a crude crown, as a red veil draped over her blonde hair, which was neatly done up in a bun. She was sipping from a shot glass that was filled with a familiar looking liquid: His memories.
"A decent bouquet and an intriguing taste," the woman murmured seemingly to herself. "I can see why that child savors these."
Ren's eyes widened in shock. Her appearance was a dead ringer for an older Nero, but the presence he felt from her was something else entirely. Something very familiar to him – and yet far, far darker than it ever was. Pushing down his worries and anxiety for a moment, he stepped forward. "I wasn't expecting guests," he remarked with his usual smirk. "Hope you didn't find the welcoming committee too overwhelming – they can get a bit excitable."
"What should I call you?" he asked. "Nero? Or Mother Harlot?"
The woman scoffed lightly. "Please do not call me Nero," she replied softly, her voice dripping with disdain as she slowly turned towards him. Compared to the emperor's bright, green eyes, hers were red as wine and dark with malice. "I am not that naïve child. Mother Harlot is more fitting, though it is not accurate to call me that either."
The Phantom Thief frowned in confusion. Before he could get his answer, however, a cell door made of blue light appeared in the café, showing only a blue void beyond. It swung open, and out walked a figure: Tall, disproportionate, with a long, hooked nose, a permanent grin, and all-perceiving eyes. Both Olga and Lavenza bowed while Ren's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected him, of all people, to show up.
"My, it has been a while since I have stepped out of the Velvet Room," Igor commented, looking around the café exhibit. "I did not expect to venture out quite so soon, but then this journey has been quite exceptional."
"Er, will the Velvet Room be okay without you, Igor?" Ren asked in concern, checking the blue void behind him.
The Master of the Velvet Room chuckled. "I have made preparations to ensure it can handle my absence for a brief period of time," he reassured the Phantom Thief. "This matter, I believe, requires special attention."
Turning to the woman who was staring at him with some curiosity, he nodded in acknowledgement. "Greetings," he announced. "I am Igor, Master of the Velvet Room. Our role is to aid humanity and assist our guests in their respective journeys. While we normally remain as observers and helpers at most, a case like yours is a very rare exception where direct interference may be necessary." Igor's grin widened as his eyes bore into the unannounced intruder.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Beast candidate Draco?"