FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 40: Truth or Dare

4:00pm, The streets of Athens

Monica stood staring at the cliff face before her, stunned beyond words. Though she had seen it on TV that morning, to see it with her own eyes, to understand that she'd been there just the day before, left her shaking in her boots. To have the whole building, and the ground under it, plucked off the face off the Earth... How many times easier would it be to pluck her head from her neck?

Lykavittos Hill, the diner she and Chrysaor had dined at, the small chapel they'd visited, the overlook, the landscape that left her in awe, was gone. In just a day, it was rubble. Time seemed to expand to her, her mind artificially stretching memories to make some sense of the contradiction, the millennia of erosion that occurred in just a few hours. It was simply too unreal, especially after retracing many of their steps and seeing everything else the same.

She slowly rubbed at the scabbed-over cut on her neck. Behind her, Chrysaor was scanning their surroundings, his serpentine eyes making sure that no one came too close, or was acting too suspiciously. For someone so often gripped by neuroticism, his calm was unnerving. She was reminded of when he'd took down the thugs on the train, when he'd taken that dagger to the side... and of their earlier conversation. No matter how gentle he sometimes appeared, he was a warrior.

No, she corrected herself, he was a sword.

She turned slowly, unsure of herself, "...Chris... Do you think the attack here was on purpose? Were they targeting something?"

His eyes shifted in confusion before drifting back to the gentle, solemn eyes that she was familiar with, obviously still not used to the fake name, "Oh? Well, I'd imagine that a terrorist attack of that proportion would have to be deliberate, though I won't pretend to understand their motive."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and spoke in a hushed tone, "Alright, are you giving me a veiled response so we're not overheard, or are you just bullshitting me?"

He flinched, "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

She sighed, "I'd hit you, except that I know it wouldn't hurt."

He just raised his eyebrow, not seeming to comprehend her meaning.

-And she began to walk up the path, the stone staircase that twisted up the hill and led to the top.

"Hey-," he cast a frantic glance around them, though there was no one immediately nearby, "What are you doing?"

"What do you think? We need to gather information don't we?"

She continued forward.

He cut the distance between them quickly, keeping a respectful pace behind her, "There's no reason to- what are you hoping to accomplish? The chapel's destroyed, there'll be no overseer here."

"I know that- I'm not an idiot. But more information is better, isn't it?"

"And what information would we get? This has nothing to do with us-"

Monica turned on the stairs, placing her finger directly into Saber's chest, "How long ago did we talk about this? I'm not an idiot, I know a Servant was here!" She jumped at her own voice, then looked around to make sure no one heard, and continued in a whisper, "Shouldn't we take the opportunity to learn what we can?"

He brought his hands up defensively, the rose ocean of his eyes freezing over if only for a moment, "If you understand that, then I shouldn't need to tell you the stakes of the situation. Servants aren't lightning strikes, they won't disappear after attacking only once. Wandering into a place like this only draws unnecessary attention."

She heard echoes in the back of her mind, a conversation just yesterday, but which felt far, far away: 'We can be aggressive, and seek out our opponents, or be passive, and let them come to us.'