Planet: Earth
Date: June 3 2020
Location: Infirmary - Clock Tower (London - England)
(======)
Rin couldn't believe her eyes.
"Oh my God..." Gray's voice whispered to her left. The girl was visibly tense, her voice panicked and filled with tension as she watched the agonizing Servant tossing and turning on the bed. "Rin... w-what is happening to him?"
Sheer silence was her only answer. For once, not even the proud and cunning heir of the Tohsaka family had an answer to such a question.
On the bed, the Archer Class Servant known as Robin Hood was still groaning and shaking uncontrollably. The very same Servant who had been missing from the Clock Tower for weeks until his recent... 'return'.
It was a horrible sight. Rin could feel a few trickles of sweat dripping from her cheeks. She had never seen such an illness before. Just a few hours before, she and Gray had found the Archer knocked down in the middle of a lonely alley, wounded and groaning in pain; desperate for help. They had taken him back to the infirmary of the Clock Tower, hoping to heal him with the help of the other Mages, but their hope had been shattered in less than an hour. No one seemed to be able to figure out what was wrong with the Servant. In addition to the fact that, as much as they struggled to admit it, that sight wasn't like anything they had seen before.
It was as if the Archer was horribly sick. His body was shaken by incessant tremors, as if he were hit by continuous electric shocks that prevented him from staying still. He was always struggling, moaning, cursing; visibly suffering from a great pain. His skin burned as well, as if some sort of liquid fire flowed through his veins, making his whole body hot and burning him from the inside. He was sweating profusely, incessantly, clawing his chest with his hands as he growled and struggled to stay still; his entire figure oozing off a dark, foul-smelling aura. An aura that originated from a very specific point.
A wound at the center of his chest. An open and horrible-looking wound. It was a strange, unusual wound similar to a corruption never seen before. Something that neither she nor any other Mage had ever seen. The wound was strange, made of a purple and red liquid, almost black, which originated from the chest and branched several inches in all directions of the Servant's body. It emitted an unpleasant odor, a smell of death and stagnation and darkness, and a kind of bubblig black liquid – ichor, to be precise – leaked out of it continuously. And despite Rin's and the other members of the Clock Tower's attempts to treat it, said wound was completely unable to close or heal, not even with the intervention of Healing Magic.
It was something she had never seen before that day.
Robin Hood groaned, growling with an agonizing voice once again. The bed shook as he tossed and turned in pain. At this point, the wound on his chest was expanding visibly, growing more large and dark and covering even more of his body. The black ichor was leaking from his chest once again.
Rin swallowed. She turned her attention to the third presence in the room, as well as the same person who had brought Archer here under her orders. "Lancer," she spoke, addressing the blue Servant directly. The Irish Hero stood on the sidelines across the room, leaning against a wall while he kept galncing at the suffering Servant with a keen eye and arms crossed. "Do you have any idea what's happening to him?"
Cu Chulainn eyed the Archer warily. Then, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint, little lady, but I'm just as lost as you are. I've never seen anything like this before," he replied cautiously. He remained impassive as Robin Hood suddenly let out a howl of pain, while both Rin and Gray flinched and jumped in fear. "Whatever is happening to him, it's definitely not a natural phenomenon."
The black-haired girl clenched her fists. Another trickle of sweat dripped from her chin. "…This is bad," she hissed in frustration. "I've never seen anything like this before. This... This wound is definitely not something normal."
"D-Do you think this was another Servant's doing?" Gray asked her, her voice trembling slightly.
Cu Chulainn's heavy sigh caught their attention. The blue Lancer pulled away from the wall and walked over to the bed, watching the fellow Servant with his red eyes and a calculating glint. "I don't think that's the case, lass. This is not a wound caused in battle. His body doesn't show any sign of having been through a collision. It's more like a strange, twisted form of corruption. Archer has been tainted by an outside force, like some kind of curse."
"So it is a curse," Rin noted, looking at the black wound on the Servant's chest intently.
Lancer nodded seriously. "Most likely. His flow of mana is completely twisted in an unnatural way. And this dark aura he's emitting matches too."
Sheer silence greeted his declaration, interrupted only by the incessant and subdued moans of the suffering Servant.
Rin walked over to the bed, taking a close look at the wounded Archer with narrowed eyes. The sense of frustration she was feeling inside was growing by the second. She cursed inside her head. "Damn it. If we could just contact Sensei, we could ask for his help," she hissed with obvious frustration. "The three of us alone are–"
A hand suddenly grabbed her arm with a weak grip.
Rin startled, shocked beyond words, but the contact lasted only for a split second. In less than a blink of an eye, Cu Chulainn had already appeared next to her, blocking Archer's hand with his own and preventing him from touching the girl any further. Gray and Rin watched the scene with wide eyes and a growing sense of anxiety.
Robin Hood was looking at Rin, his body shaking with relentless tremors and spasms. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, so full of pain and madness and delirium that they were almost unseeing. He didn't even seem to notice the others in the room, not even the Lancer who was currently blocking his outstretched arm. The dark aura around him was increasing by the second.
"H-H-He's coming..." the corrupted Servant gurgled weakly. There was something unhealthy, and desperate, and terrified in his broken voice as he rasped, struggling to breathe. "He's c-comi-ng... he's... he's..." he rambled again and again, delirious.
The girls grew visibly tense at this point.
The blue Lancer glared at the Archer. His red eyes narrowed even further. "What do you mean?" he pressed seriously.
Robin Hood broke in a coughing fit for several seconds. Then, panting and wheezing, he widened his eyes even more and stared with a crazed, terrified gaze to the world. "He's here... he's c-coming... he's coming..." he kept repeating incessantly, like a mantra, collapsing once again on the bed and shaking in convulsions. It was as if he was delirious because of pain.
Rin braced herself and stepped forward. "W-What are you talking about? What do you mean? Who's coming? Where?" she demanded him.
The Archer stilled. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head and his bloodshot eyes mter her aqua ones. And for a moment, something flashed in his pained orb. Something dark. Something twisted. Something so dark and creepy that made the girl's skin crawl for no reason. Something that despite the Servant's delirium made the air in the room drop by several degrees.
"T-The… dark… ness…" he wheezed once more. "He's... here... you... need t-to... s-stop... him... I s-saw..."
He broke off again, shaken by an unnatural cough.
"Where?" Cu Chulainn pressed on him with narroweed eyes. "Tell us where."
Robin Hood stared blankly at the ceiling, delirious, his voice barely above a confused hiss. His energies were decreasing more and more. And after a few seconds, his eyelids began to close slowly, as if he were about to sink into a sleep induced by pain and fatigue.
"Is... land... Ha... rri... ss..."
Then, his eyes closed, and the corrupted Archer fell into an unnatural sleep.
Silence descended into the infirmary for what seemed like an eternity.
Rin clenched her fists so hard that her arms trembled slightly.
Gray moved next to her, placing a hand on her right arm with a tense expression. Even Cu Chulainn watched the two girls with silent attention. "Rin... what do we do?" her hooded friend asked nervously.
The girl gritted her teeth and strengthened her resolve.
Even without her Teacher, as a Mage of the Clock Tower and the heir of the Tohsaka family, there was only one thing she had to do.
Her aqua eyes shot a challening glare to the world.
"We find out what's going on."
Planet: Earth
Date: June 3 2020
Location: Vatican Archives – Vatican City (Rome - Italy)
(======)
Shirou struggled hard to keep his mask on.
He swallowed. He had a hard time maintaining his impassive expression. After Caren Hortensia asked him that question, it was as if a sudden shiver had swept through his spine. His body almost jumped, instinctively, as if he had been suddenly slapped out of the blue. No, on the contrary... it was as if he had been shaken in the deepest recess of his inner self. In the most hidden, most secret, most dark corner of his soul. After all, this was the first time. It was the first time in a very long time that a human had dared to say that word in his presence. The first time in more than five thousand years that his ears were hearing that word come back to him once again from the lips of a human. That word. That name.
"Tell me, Ruler. Have you ever heard the legend of Tyr, the First Hero of Humanity?"
In the room, the air dropped by several degrees. Shirou gritted his teeth, hard, struggling to suppress a snarl and keep his face as stoic and calm as ever. His arms almost trembled – literally trembled – from the effort to stay still. It was inevitable. It was absolutely inevitable for him to react that way. It was impossible for the God of War to remain impassive upon hearing his former name after all this time. He had also had the same reaction during the fight with the Counter Guardian, after all. Old habits die hard, unfortunately.
Yet, almost by a miracle, he did not give up this time. The red-haired Ruler stood motionless, trampling his growing agitation, and instead opting to observe and watch the others in the room. Around him, in fact, even his companions had reacted strangely to that question. He noticed it almost immediately: Iskandar suddenly stiffened, assuming an unreadable expression on his face. Artoria jumped and her eyes widened, as if she had been slapped for some strange reason. Her green eyes seemed to be looking at something no one could see. Gawain and Bedivere narrowed their eyes as well with a thoughtful and confused air. Mordred, on the other hand, seemed like she had no idea what was going on.
But what worried him most were the others' faces. Lord El-Melloi II, above all, had a pale and tense expression, almost panicked; similar to that of Olga Marie Animusphere who appeared to be much more tense and nervous than usual. Nero and Romulus remained uncharacteristically silent and with their eyes closed, and even the stoic and stony-faced Arjuna had narrowed his eyes as he glared to the ground with a hard stare. It was clear that that word, that term, that identity was not unknown to them. Somehow, in one way or another, they had heard that name before. A name that had finally come back to haunt him once again after all this time. A very special and peculiar one.
His own name.
All of a sudden, the God of War felt a knot forcefully clench his stomach.
Caren Hortensia's eerie smile widened amid the tense silence. A glimmer of unhealthy pleasure glinted in her eyes as she saw his veiled hesitation. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue, Ruler?" she pressed with fake innocence.
Shirou had to quell a sudden instinct to pounce and strangle her.
Mordred seemed more confused than ever by the heavy air that had surrounded the room. She watched the tense expressions of the others with obvious perplexity. "Huh... what the heck is going on here?" she asked with confusion. "Who's this guy you're talking about?"
Olga Marie turned abruptly towards the blonde girl, looking visibly shocked. "Y-You don't know?" she breathed incredulously. She seemed appalled by the revelation.
The Knight of Treachery narrowed her eyes, but she just shook her head and remained silent. Even Bedivere and Gawain shared her confusion, for once.
"Oh my! They really don't know anything about it," the priestess, Caren, giggled in a monotonous and obviously sarcastic tone. Her mocking smile widened as she gazed at the Knights' confused faces. "Look at them. Three poor, ignorant children who know nothing about the greatest calamity that has afflicted this world. Good grief, what a pain. Are you guys really sure you're Servants?"
Waver Velvet fixed her with a stern eye. "Enough, Caren. It's perfectly normal that they don't know what we're talking about," he said solemnly, scolding her for her hurtful words. Seeing the girl recede, the black-haired man closed his eyes with a sigh, putting a hand in his pocket and taking out a big cigar to calm down his growing stress. "We're talking about an ancient legend here, perhaps the oldest legend of all, and not a very well known one. Few are those who have heard of it, and even fewer those who remember it today," he explained seriously.
"Why don't you guys stop wasting our time and get to the point already?" Mordred hissed with a frown. "Who's this... 'Tyr'? And what do you mean with First Hero of Humanity?"
Absolute silence was her only answer. Shirou stood still, his eyes fixed on the documents he had received before.
Caren Hortensia let out a sigh. Her smile faded, and her expression instantly became serious and monotonous as well. "So be it. Since you lot are hopelessly ignorant, I shall explain it to you: the oldest legend of all. The story of the most terrible monster that ever existed in humanity's history."
Artoria clenched her fists a little. "…I know about it," she admitted suddenly, out of the blue.
The effect was immediate. Everyone's eyes fell on her not even a second later. Gawain and Bedivere gaped. Waver and Olga Marie nodded. Mordred and Caren narrowed their eyes.
Only Shirou and Iskandar stood still as before. The former was staring at the table, and the latter was staring at nothing in particular, looking more pale and tense than usual.
"Hoh? So you know about it," the priestess said monotonously, arching an eyebrow without any emotion. She glanced at Artoria, Shirou and Iskandar. "Well, some of you do, at least."
The three Servants tensed slightly under her eerie gaze. Especially Shirou.
The Knights of the Round Table did not hesitate to voice their doubt. "My liege?" Bedivere asked, staring at her King with a confused look along with Gawain. The hesitation was clearly visible on their faces. "Do you... know what they are referring to?"
The King of Knights nodded slowly with an unreadable expression. Something strange glinted in her emerald eyes. "I do, my friend. The legend of the God of War. Humanity's first Hero... and the world's biggest calamity," she recalled out loud, staring at the world with a cold and solemn gaze. A trickle of sweat was dripping from her forehead. "It… it was an ancient legend. One that was long forgotten even during our time."
Mordred's eyes narrowed. "How come you know it, then?" she questioned with suspicion.
If the blonde woman had been offended by her son's accusatory and hostile tone, she didn't show it. "Merlin's knowledge about ancient stories and mythologies was far more extensive than you might imagine, Mordred," she merely replied in an emotionless tone. "He educated and taught me various myths and legends during the course of my tutoring. Among them, I remember that Tyr's story was one of the few he remembered the most. But unfortunately, I have to admit that my recollection of this legend leaves much to be desired. I never paid too much attention to old myths and legends of the past. I did not see the reason, nor the purpose. All I cared about was my quest to unify Britain."
"You don't know all of it, then," Waver Velvet deduced seriously.
Artoria paused, taken aback by the man's insight, before nodding. "That's right."
"And what about you two, then?" Olga Marie suddenly asked. Her gray eyes stared morbidly at the stony-faced Shirou and Iskandar, who had both remained completely – and unusually – silent until now. "Ruler. Rider. Have you ever heard of this legend or not?"
"Oh, I think they have, Marie," Caren spoke with an amused smile. Her eyes shone with intrigue as she gazed at the faces of the two Servants with a bit of mischief. "Am I right?"
The attention of the whole room returned to rest on the two red-heads. Iskandar closed his eyes, and Shirou continued to stare at the documents he held in his hand with a cold stare.
"…You two know something as well," Romulus confirmed with his low, deep voice.
"Umu! It's written all over your faces!" Nero exclaimed with a haughty smile.
Arjuna nodded in wordlessly confirmation. Even he could see the truth, despite their impassive faces.
Seconds passed, followed by silence.
Mordred stared at her companions with an inquisitive look. "…Rider? Ruler?"
The two Servants visibly hesitated before everyone's eyes. Iskandar tried to exchange a glance with Shirou, but the latter remained completely focused on the documents he was holding.
Then, all of a sudden, the Macedonian Emperor inhaled and crossed his arms. His shoulders slumped a bit as a ragged sigh teared itself from his lips. "I won't deny it. I do know this legend," the King of Conquerors slowly revealed after all that waiting and silence. His expression was unreadable as he spoke, but there was something in his eyes. Something that Mordred, Artoria, and those who knew him best did not fail to notice. "I know it extremely well. During my time, humanity still remembered this story quite well. It was one of the most famous legends, even within my own Empire."
"Then would you do the honors to explain it to your allies, dearest Emperor?" Caren suggested with irony, never stopping to smile mischievously.
The muscular Rider glared at her, but he relented after seeing Lord El-Melloi II shake his head. Iskandar sighed a second time.
"It was a myth of ancient times," he then began to say. The others turned their attention to him with utmost seriousness. "A legend that was often remembered with terror and fear, back in the days. I learned of it when I was still young, during one of my first journeys to Greece. Back then, driven by my desire to explore and conquer the world, I wanted to learn and discover more about the cultures and traditions of different lands. For this very same reason I requested a meeting with a famous philosopher of the time, called Diogenes. It was that old man the one who told me about Tyr's legend, along with many other myths that still circulated through the lands at the time."
"And what was this legend about?" Gawain asked then. "Who is this Tyr?"
Shirou felt his hands begin to tremble slightly. Whenever he heard that name spoken, something inside him roared and raged furiously.
But Iskandar and the others didn't realize, thankfully.
"…He was a God of War," the muscular Rider replied in a serious voice. "One of the ancient Divinities who is said to have lived a long, long time ago; in a distant past of which little is known, during the Age of Gods. He was a Demi-God, to be exact. The first Demi-God of the human race. That's what he was, according to legends."
Mordred arched an eyebrow. "So what? Why're everyone's garments all twisted to the mention of an old forgotten God?"
The King of Conquerors looked her straight in the eye. "When I was alive, the Greeks and the people of many different lands I visited and conquered remembered him as a monster. A threat. A calamity. The greatest calamity that has ever existed on Earth, to be exact. The mere mention of that name was forbidden in several cultures because of the terror that the God of War instilled in their hearts. His story and origins had long since been forgotten, but his exploits were still remembered and feared, even then. And after learning his myth, even I used to be wary of such an entity, Saber," he explained with utmost seriousness.
Bedivere, Gawain, and Mordred looked pensive after that statement. "What did he do?" the Knight of the Sun asked at that point.
Iskandar sighed, running a hand through his red hair. Two seconds of silence passed.
Then, slowly, he began to tell what he had heard when he was alive, in a very distant past.
"Back when the world was new, the planet was very different from the way we know it," the tall Rider explained in his powerful voice. "Humanity was not as prolific and free as it is today. On the contrary, as many of you already know, the world was ruled by supernatural beings that transcended humanity: the Gods. The Deities were omnipotent and omnipresent, and controlled all that there was to control. Nations, peoples, lands, everything. Humanity was nothing but livestock without power nor freedom, subjected to the Gods who ruled it as they wished. They called this period… the Age of Gods."
Shirou clenched his fists under the table, struggling to keep a neutral expression on his face. The roaring rage inside of him was pawing to get out. Artoria remained impassive as ever. Mordred and the others who were unfamiliar with this story, however, listened to Iskandar's words with bated breath.
"But then, he was born," the King of Conquerors spoke again, his red eyes gazing over something blurry and unseen in the distance. "Tyr, the God of War. A warrior born from an unexpected relationship between a human and a God. Therefore, as you can imagine, he was half-human, half-god. The first Demi-God in history, to be precise, and the ancestor and precursor of all other Demi-Gods... such as our Archer here."
Arjuna narrowed his eyes, but remained silent with an unreadable face. He already knew this story, given his Divine origin.
Mordred arched an eyebrow. "So what?"
It was Lord El-Melloi II who answered this time. "According to legends, Tyr was the one who rebelled against the Gods. The first man who decided to go against the hegemony and dominion of the Deities who ruled the world during the Age of Gods. A merciless and bloodthirsty warrior, who defeated the Gods on his own. For this reason, in days gone by, when his legend was still known throughout the lands, he was considered the most powerful warrior that ever existed," he explained, getting straight to the point without wasting any more time.
Bedivere gulped audibly. Even Mordred looked bewildered by the news. "He… he defeated the Gods? On his own?" Bedivere inquired, paling at the very thought of an entity capable of doing such a thing.
"He didn't simply defeat them," Caren broke in succinctly, with a monotonous voice and an impassive expression. Everyone's eyes – except Shirou's – fell on her. "He hunted them. Killed them. Slaughtered them. Forced them to flee and cover in fear, and banished the ones remaining far away from humanity. He literally destroyed their kingdom and effectively put an end to their role in history for good."
Mordred narrowed her eyes as the room fell into a tense and bewildered silence after that revelation. Again. "That's bullshit," she hissed, incredulous. "How is that possible? How could a single man defeat an entire race? A race made up of Gods, moreover?"
"Unfortunately, we don't know," Olga Marie admitted hesitantly. The girl had an uncertain expression on her face, and her eyes were focused on the table as she spoke. "But what we do know is that Tyr was extremely powerful. Much more powerful than any other God or warrior who existed before him. He struck the moment the people's faith in the Gods weakened, momentarily stopping their flow of power, and bathed his body with Divine blood. For years he fought and clashed against the Gods, slaughtering and exterminating them. Countless Dieties died because of him and his thirst for blood."
"Until, after many years of fighting and death, he finally succedeed," Caren Hortensia continued in her stead. "As God after God fell against him, in the end, he managed to stop their rule forever. And then, Tyr banished the Gods away from humanity, and locked them in the Reverse Side of the World… for good," she said with her dull, monotonous voice. Seeing the stunned expressions of the Knights, the priestess made an eerie smile on her lips. "That's how the story goes, at least."
Mordred was still incredulous. "T-This... This can't be!" she denied, stubbornly trying to appease her disbelief. "It's impossible! Not even a child would believe such an impossible story!"
And yet, much to everyone's amazement, Arjuna shook his head and spoke to her. "As impossible as it may seem, Sir Mordred... it's the truth," he said in his usual calm and quiet voice. Mordred spun around, gazing into the serious and solemn face of the Indian Hero with wide eyes filled with stunned shock. "As I've already told you once, my Father is Indra, the God of Thunder and Lightning. Me and my whole family are his descendants. And my father... he told me this very same story himself when I was a child, advising me to be wary of my human nature, because it could lead me to do horrible things. Unspeakable sins and deeds... as it did to Tyr," he revealed in all honesty.
The Knight of Treachery gaped with disbelief.
Shirou gritted his teeth. Hard.
"So… is all of this true?" Bedivere asked, his voice more quiet and low than usual.
Iskandar nodded gravely with a serious expression. "Indeed. That's what many people believed, back in my days," he openly admitted without hesitation.
"And Merlin told me this exact same thing as well," Artoria confirmed after him, closing her eyes with a contrite face.
Gawain was speechless. "So what you're saying is..."
"Yes, you ignorant Knights," Caren nodded without hesitation, smiling wryly at their annoyed expression. "Basically, Tyr was the one who actually put an end to the Age of Gods. The strongest, most ruthless, and most cruel warrior that has ever existed on the face of the Earth; and the first true warrior the human race has ever had. The first man who rebelled against the Gods. The first man who chose to fight and kill his enemies. The one who managed to inspire others to fight and rebel against oppression and slavery, and the one who started the Age of Men. Hence: the First Hero of Humanity."
Sheer silence followed her words for several seconds.
The priestess looked at the Knights with a mocking smile. "Was that explanation clear enough for you pathetic Servants?" she questioned, as if it were natural for her to say those hurtful words.
"Hey! Show them some respect, you insolent priestess!" Nero complained loudly, waving a fist in the air with her cheeks puffed in outrage. "Is this how you treat your new allies?"
"Stop barking, you useless Emperor."
"I'm not useless! I am beyond genius, if I do say so myself!"
The other Servants ignored the two girls completely. "My liege, is this really true?" Bedivere asked again, turning to Artoria.
The female King nodded after a couple of seconds of contemplation. "Yes, Bedivere. What we've just heard coincides with what Merlin explained to me during my tutoring. They're telling the truth."
That seemed to shock them even more. The Knights of the Round looked floored right now. "I… had no idea that humanity had such a strange figure as its First Hero," Gawain commented as well.
Olga Marie scoffed loudly. Everyone turned to her after that unexpected reaction. "...he did free humanity from the Gods' rule," the young girl spoke without any real emphasis. Her fists clenched in anger. "But he was no Hero."
Shirou lowered his head, smiling covertly with no real joy.
Mordred turned her head to the director of the Atlas Institute. "Huh? What do you mean? If he really freed humanity from slavery, then he's a Hero, right?" she objected, clearly confused by her words.
The white-haired girl sighed, running a hand over her temples with an irritated expression. Everyone's perplexity only seemed to annoy her even further. Caren Hortensia, on the other hand, chuckled openly with mockery. "Oh my! I can't believe you guys are so naive," the priestess spoke between giggles in a tone that was both incredulous and belittling. "Do you really believe that man annihilated the Gods for humanity's sake? What, you guys got ink for brains or something?"
Mordred, Bedivere and Gawain paused, perplexed and confused. Artoria and Iskandar closed their eyes. Nero and Romulus lowered their gaze with pensive eyes. Arjuna looked away with a frown. Waver Velvet and Olga Marie stood motionless.
And Shirou… Shirou remained silent, closing his eyes and bracing himself as best as he could for what he knew was coming.
Caren smiled an eerie smile on her lips. "Since you guys are so helplessly hopeless, allow me to explain it to you," she started to say, annoying most of the present with her words. "Why would Tyr have killed the Gods for humanity's sake? Him, who was a God and, therefore, could already do anything, go everywhere, and achieve everything he wanted? That's not how it works. Humanity's well-being was not his goal. It wasn't his intent at all."
Said God struggled hard to keep his emotions in check.
"...then, why did he rebel against his own kind?" Bedivere pressed.
Caren opened her mouth to answer, but someone beat her to it.
"Power."
Everyone's eyes fell on Iskandar.
The King of Conquerors looked at Mordred and the Knights with solemn, heavy gaze. "He killed the Gods because he wanted to overtake them. He wanted to rule everyone and everything, even his own kind. That's why he did all of that. He wanted power and control in order to rule above everything. He wanted to conquer everything that was not under his control. That was his real intent: an endless quest for power and conquest," he explained seriously.
Shirou felt his eyes start to sting for some reason. Even though he didn't show it outwardly, his emotions were a mess on the inside.
Artoria almost scoffed. Almost. "That sounds awfully familiar," she said with veiled irony, casting a cold glance to the red-haired Emperor.
Iskandar fixed her with a stern eye. "Mind you, King of Knights: don't you dare compare me to such an entity," he spoke slowly. His voice was low – frighteningly lower than usual – and carried a lot of decision and rage as he spoke. "I may be greedy, but I'm not a monster. I've never enjoyed causing death and destruction. Killing, subjugating, destroying… that is not my way of Conquest!" he forcefully declared, challenging her with his red eyes.
The blonde woman stared at his face calmly and impassively. Unlike their first 'discussion', there was no trace of hesitation in her emerald eyes this time, not even when Iskandar started to openly glare at her, daring her to defy his statement.
"I fight and conquer for a dream! A selfish dream, I admit... but unlike you I've never denied it. I know who I am, I know I'm greedy, and I accept it!"
To reach the end of the world. To reach the last ocean. To unify the hearts of men, and create an endless Kingdom without borders and differences. To create a vast Nation across the entire world. A place where everyone was his subject, where everyone was his brother, his sister, his retainer. A place where he could share his joys with the whole world, without borders; and enjoy all the wonders the planet had to offer. A place where everyone could share the hope of a better life under his rule.
"I never wished to destroy everything and bend the world to my whims," Iskandar continued, undeterred. "I never wished to possess everything just because I want power and spoils. I aim to conquer the hearts of men, because a King must never be alone. A King must embody the best of humanity, and sometimes, when it was absolutely necessary, even the worst. A King who conquers everything, sharing his joy and efforts with his ever growing people by him. That's what trueConquest means for me!"
Artoria and Iskandar looked into each other's eyes, silently challenging each other for several seconds.
The King of Conquerors glared at the King of Knights. "I am selfish and greedy. But I'm not a monster who lust for power and control like Tyr. And if you don't agree, then I dare you to say it to my face, Arthur."
The King of Knights glared at the King of Conquerors. "…You and I have very different visions of Kingship, Alexander. I'm afraid we'll never agree about this. However, this is not the time for another discussion."
Iskandar blinked, confused by her dismissive tone and words. Then, he turned towards the others. When he did, it didn't take long for him to notice that everyone had assumed tense and wary expressions during that exchange between him and Artoria. Mordred was watching her father's face intently, ready to intervene at any moment, and Bedivere and Gawain were the same, even if they looked more concerned than anything. Even the other humans looked visibly tense, along with Romulus, Arjuna, and Nero.
The only ones who seemed completely indifferent right now were Caren Hortensia and...
…and Shirou.
Iskandar narrowed his eyes at the Ruler. It was unlike him to be so unusually silent, especially in heated discussions of this kind. Right now, however, the red-haired Ruler seemed… distant. Distracted. Absorbed in his thoughts. And this was strange, very strange. Iskandar contemplated the idea of asking if he was okay, but he held it back for the last second. Shirou was his companion, his friend, and if there was something troubling him right now, then they would discuss it in private, away from indiscreet eyes and ears. He wasn't stupid, after all.
There was something going on here. And Iskandar needed to find out what, sooner or later.
Caren sighed when she saw that the situation had calmed down again in the room. The Servants visibly relaxed. "Too bad. That was quite amusing to watch," she said with barely veiled disappointment, much to everyone's irritation. "However, the King of Conquerors is right. Tyr was by no means a liberator. He was a ruthless and cruel beast, driven to fight solely by his thirst for power and blood. A monster who massacred and slaughtered countless lives just for the sake of his quest for power, without restraint or repentance. Basically, despite his dual nature as both man and God, he was exactly like the Gods he hated so much: cruel, sadistic, and oppressive. A God of War, through and through."
Shirou trembled a little in shame, almost imperceptibly.
"Of course, what he did, he did for himself," Caren explained again, slowly and clearly. "He was no Hero. He killed the other Deities and freed humanity simply because he wanted to rule them in their place. It is no wonder, in fact, that immediately after his victory against the Gods, humanity turned its back on him and chased him away like the monster he was."
The God of War swallowed hard.
Iskandar, Mordred, Artoria and all the others looked at the priestess intently.
Caren Hortensia stared at an empty wall with a distant gaze, her lips surrounded by a cruel and sadistic smile. "And then, just like the monster he was, he was forced to flee," she solemnly recounted. "Cornered like an animal and without support from either the Gods or men, he remained weary, lost, and alone. Alone, in a world where he didn't belong anymore. Therefore, he did the only thing he could: he killed himself, and finally put an end to his monstrous existence once and for all. And that was the end of him. That's how the legend goes."
And then, the room of the Vatican Archives fell into absolute silence once again.
Until, after an indefinite amount of time, someone decided to break it again.
"...that was nice and all, but I still don't get it," Mordred growled lowly. She glared at Lord El-Melloi II, Olga Marie and Caren all at the same time. "That's just a stupid, ancient legend. What was the point of listening to all this crap? And how is this related to the current War? We don't know if this 'Tyr' guy actually existed. Heck, we don't even know if his legend is true at all!"
"Oh, it's true," Caren promptly retorted, never once losing that eerie, cruel smile from her face. "It's very much true; my cute, little, rebellious Knight."
The blonde Saber growled at her knowing and sarcastic face. "How? Spit it out already!"
In response, the priestess widened her smile and fixed her gaze on a specific member of the group.
"Why don't you ask Ruler, instead?"
Just like that, silence fell once again in the room, and everyone's eyes fell on a certain red-haired Servant. The temperature in the air dropped several degrees.
The Ruler stared blankly at the documents he held in his hand, struggling to keep his mind focused as everyone stared at him expectantly. And yet, just like he did before, he remained still and quiet, not uttering a single word for several seconds. Even Nero and Romulus were starting to look at his face with clear confusion. This reaction was obviously strange - coming from him, at least - and they were all starting to notice it.
"Shirou?"
Slowly, very slowly, the red-head turned in the direction of the voice.
Artoria was fixing him with an inquisitive eye, much like everyone else in the room. "You're being uncharacteristically silent again. Are you ok? " she asked him. A glimmer of concern was present in her expression.
"It's because he's already confirmed the truth," Lord El-Melloi II stated with a plain face.
Shirou smiled, mirthless. A long, ragged sigh escaped his lips "...I admit," he spoke in the end after a long while of silence. "I wasn't expecting this turn of events. This is… worrying."
"My Praetor, what's troubling you?" Nero asked him with a loud voice, clearly confused about his behaviour.
Hearing no response from him, Romulus sighed. "So we were right. Even you know of this legend, Ruler," the tanned Lancer noted, his red eyes boring holes into his skull with their unnerving intensity.
The Ruler nodded. "I do," he admitted slowly, resigning himself to lying once again for the sake of the mission. It was going to be painful for him – extremely painful – but he had no choice now. This problem, this situation… he had expected a lot of things from this damned conflict, but this; this he hadn't expected. He hadn't expected anything like this. At all. He cursed inside his head, cursing himself and the cruel, twisted Destiny that was forcing him into such a mess despite his best attempts to live peacefully after all this time.
But now, there was no escape for him.
Revealing the truth was not an option. Not here. Not now. Such an action would have only generated chaos and fomented discord and mistrust between his group and allies. He couldn't risk such a thing. Not without getting more information first. Therefore, he had to keep improvising. As painful as it was, as hypocritical as it was, he had to keep lying to his friends for the sake of the future.
Fine, then. So be it.
Shirou Emiya swallowed slowly, looking up from the documents and taking a deep breath. Then, bracing himself to the best of his ability, he finally decided to address Lord El-Melloi II and his allies once again, voicing the suspicion that had been plaguing his mind for several minutes now. All that previous discussion about Tyr – about him – had confirmed his doubts, after all.
Therefore, this time he didn't hesitate to deduce what his 'allies' were thinking right now.
"You suspect that this Tyr might be related to the War."
It wasn't a question, and everyone knew it. It was a statement. And in fact, as soon as he finished saying that, the tension settled on Waver Velvet and Olga Marie like a heavy boulder. The unknown God could practically see their shoulders drop and their bodies stiffen. He could feel the anxiety in their eyes. And after a few seconds of stunned shock, their expressions twitched slightly, before returning blank and cold like before.
The black-haired Magus from the Clock Tower crossed his arms on the table. "It's a possibility," he admitted bluntly.
Iskandar, Artoria, Mordred, and the Knights whirled towards them, stunned by the revelation. Only Caren and the other Servants allied with the Church seemed to already be aware of their suspicion. Even Arjuna seemed slightly taken aback from that statement.
Mordred leaned towards Shirou on her chair. "What are you talking about?" she asked him, looking visibly incredulous.
In response, the red-haired Ruler threw the documents he had read so far on the center of the table, for all to see. Artoria, Iskandar and the others leaned forward to observe them, their eyes narrowed in suspicion as they read through the contents of that yellow folder with utmost attention.
The documents in question were mostly a series of historical records and founds dated around 4000 BC – copies of the originals, of course – along with a couple of images and photographs. The photos, above all, were very interesting. They depicted two ancient tablets made from birch, alder and oak, clearly ancient and worn by time. Historical artifacts, no doubt. Judging by the images, the tablets were 0.25–3 mm thick with a typical size being 20 cm × 8 cm (7.9 in × 3.1 in) (the size of a modern postcard). They were scored down the middle and folded to form diptychs with writings engraved on the wood using ancient and almost prehistoric tools. According to the documents, the two tablets were excavated in 1854 inside a palace of the city of Uruk, an ancient archaeological site situated east of the present bed of the Euphrates River on the dried-up ancient channel of the Euphrates 30 km (19 mi) east of modern Samawah, a city located in the Al-Muthannā region in Iraq. Therefore, they were archaeological finds that dated back to almost 5000 years ago.
But what had surprised Shirou the most was not so much the tablets themselves, but seeing the inscriptions engraved on them. There was no way he could have missed such an important detail.
Iskandar observed the images of the tablets carefully. "What are these?" he asked. "They look very similar to the ones we used to have in my time."
Mordred glanced at him. "You used these junks of wood to write, Rider?"
"Indeed. People from my time used to write on wooden tablets quite often. We used papyri and scrolls too, of course, but wooden tablets were often used as documents or records of official military matters," the muscular Rider explained to his Saber companion with a fond, nostalgic face. Then, his expression turned thoughtful. "But I don't recognize this writing, unfortunately. These artifacts are not from my period."
It was Olga Marie Animusphere who revealed to them what they were observing. "What you guys are seeing right now are images of some artifacts found nearly two hundred years ago at the Uruk archaeological site," she explained slowly. "Together with copies of some historical records, ancient scrolls and inscriptions. A few finds dating back to 4000 BC, mainly. Some were even older and dated around five thousand years ago. "
"They are pictures and copies of the artifacts that were stolen from the Archives a month ago," Arjuna added with his calm, collected tone of voice.
Gawain narrowed his eyes. "I see," he mused out loud, glancing at the photos of the scrolls, papyri and various translations written at the edges of the documents. "And what is written on them is..."
After the muscular Knight, the others didn't take long to notice that peculiar detail as well.
Lord El-Melloi II nodded solemnly. "So you have noticed it. Well, as you can clearly see, all the stolen documents have one and only theme in common with each other," he explained in a solemn voice. His face was literal steel as he observed the Servants one by one as they read and studied the documents and photos on the table.
Nero Claudius nodded with a thoughtful expression. "Umu! The legend of Tyr, the God of War."
Shirou felt the anxiety and frustration start to rush through his veins once again. He had to clench his fists to keep his hands from shaking with anger.
"…So all the stolen records and founds… they all pertain to this same history," Artoria observed keenly, studying in turn the documents Caren had passed to Shirou with her cold, emotionless eyes.
Waver Velvet nodded. "Nothing else was touched during the theft other than the artifacts regarding Tyr and his legend," he confirmed without batting an eye.
"And that's not all. These are the only existing artifacts related to Tyr's legend," Caren Hortensia suddenly added at that point, drawing everyone's attention. "There are no others in the world at the moment. They were the originals, and the only source from which we learned this informations. Over the course of history, in fact, Tyr's story and name apparently ended up being forgotten over the centuries, until they both disappeared completely during the Roman Empire. It was only thanks to those finds that the Holy Church and the Mage's Association learned about them after all this time."
Shirou and the others turned to Romulus and Nero. The two Roman Servants nodded under everyone's gaze. "It's true," the founder of Rome explained in his low, deep voice. "In my time, this myth was almost completely forgotten already, along with many others. I myself have never been aware of it until I was summoned back here in my beloved Rome. Very few people had heard of Tyr's story when I was alive. Isn't that right, Nero?"
"Umu! Mostly scholars and historians did! My first Preator Seneca was one of them!" the red Empress confirmed with a captivating smile and a theatrical gesture of her hand.
Shirou, Iskandar and Mordred exchanged a silent glance. Then, slowly, they went back to read the documents with refound interest (the last two, at least).
"By the way, young man, what language is this?" Iskandar asked Lord El-Melloi II. He was looking at the photo of the two wooden tablets, pointing a finger at the inscriptions above them. "I learned a lot of languages during my life as an Emperor, but I've never seen such letters before."
The young Magus tried to answer, but someone was faster.
"Fae."
Everyone present turned to Artoria. Shirou, on the other hand, closed his eyes with resigned bitterness.
The King of Knights looked at the images with a narrowed gaze. "These letters are Fae. I recognize the writing," she said with utmost certainty.
"You do, my King?" Gawain asked.
"Yes. These letters and symbols match the inscriptions engraved on my Sword's blade, as well as the ones written on the lining of my lost Sheath. This is the Fairies' language, I'm sure of it," she confirmed once again, observing the engravings on the tablets with extreme attention.
Caren Hortensia nodded, cracking an amused smile. "Oh my, King Arthur is quite knowledgeable," she commented sarcastically. Then, her smile disappeared all of a sudden. "She's right. Those tablets are engraved with Fae letters, and like most of the records you're looking at, they're dated around 5,000 years ago. We even know what they say, in fact."
That seemed to catch Artoria's attention. Even Shirou raised his head imperceptibly. "You do?"
The priestess of the Holy Church nodded. With a snap of her fingers, a second document appeared in her hands, and she placed it on the table in front of the Servants, allowing them to pick it up and look at it. Artoria grabbed it first, reading its contents with voracious curiosity.
"These tablets had been considered an unsolved mystery for decades. Until, about forty years ago, a certain Magus of the Clock Tower named Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg miraculously managed to decipher the letters and translate them," Caren explained slowly in her monotonous voice. She pointed a finger at the paper she had just given to Artoria. "That document contains the translation of the tables. Obviously there are some parts missing, as the finds are damaged and several letters have disappeared due to time. Furthermore, based on more recent studies, it has been discovered that the tables were originally three, not two. The last tablet has been lost over the centuries, unfortunately, so the content of the text is incomplete."
Bedivere turned to his King as she read the paper. "What does it say, my liege?"
Artoria took a small deep breath. Then, with grace and clarity, she read aloud the translation of the tablets.
Fate has been cruel and order unkind,
How […] you away?
The blame […] the punishment yours,
The harmony's silent today.
By your rage blinded, by your power frightened,
[…] away, unmerciful and narrow-minded.
They […] you carried inside,
And amidst hatred and scorn you committed suicide.
And ever contemptuous, in spite of […]
[…] sacrifice, humanity sings yet:
'Born in grief, raised in hate,
Helpless to defy his Fate,
Don't let him run, don't let him live,
Never forget what we cannot forgive.'
'His sword was sharp, his spear was long.
The arrow swift, the […] were strong.
[…] the Monster and the Gods are gone,
And mankind no more shall ever suffer wrong.'
[…]
But though sword shall be rusted,
And throne and crown perish,
With strength that men trusted
And […] that they cherish,
His legend […], his fame is still growing,
The blades are yet swinging, the blood ever-flowing.
The War is still growing, […] keep their killing,
And […] are hidden and singing.
We'll never forget, we'll never forgive.
[…] Tyr's legend will live:
[…]
A couple of seconds of silence passed when Artoria finished reading the translation.
"Well, that wasn't much," Gawain commented after a while.
Mordred scoffed. "No shit. But whoever wrote this crap, they didn't like this Tyr at all," she noted in a bored tone.
Shirou had to resist the urge to facepalm himself after hearing that text. He was so overwhelmed by emotions at that moment that he even failed to notice and care about Mordred's attitude and words. A hysterical laugh almost risked to escape his lips because of the bitterness and shame he was feeling inside. '...even the Fae started to hate me after the Separation? Why didn't Vivian tell me?'
"So it's true," Artoria's voice made Shirou rouse from his dark thoughts. "In one way or another, all of these finds are related to the First Hero."
Nero nodded emphatically. For once, her jovial and cheerful face was more serious than ever. "You see? You see? This cannot be a mere coincidence!" she exclaimed vehemently, leaning forward on the table and bouncing her… exposted chest in front of everyone. Iskandar grinned at the vision, but he held back a loud whistle when he saw Mordred and Olga Marie glare at him.
"My point exactly," Lord El-Melloi II declared with absolute seriousness at that point. He coughed, attracting everyone's attention. "As you can see, the evidences are too many to ignore. Servant or not, whoever stole these records and documents had clearly a goal in mind. We do not know what this objective is yet, but it is evident that it's something related to this legend, this figure: the God of War Tyr."
All of them exchanged a silent glance.
"There's just one thing I don't understand, Mr. Waver," Bedivere said at that point. "I can see that whoever stole these records from the Archives had a certain… interest, let's say, in this legendary figure. But what does all of this have to do with the War? This theft could simply be an isolated case, or even a diversion to distract the Mages and the investigators from the Church." His green eyes watched Waver Velvet's face intently as he spoke. "Why do you believe this figure, Tyr, is really relevant to the Holy Grail War?"
Shirou nearly cried in relief after hearing the Knight's words. That was actually a very good question. Nice one, Sir Bedivere.
And yet, the red-haired Ruler found himself frowning again when Lord El-Melloi II shared a nod with Caren Hortensia.
"Because of this."
When the priestess snapped her fingers for the third time, a large, red folder appeared in a wisp of smoke, landing with a heavy thud in the center of the table. It was large – definitely larger than the previous one – and containing a lot of images and photographs. Artoria, Mordred and the other Servants observed it with evident confusion, their eyes eyes flickering between the folder and Lord El-Melloi's stony face. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Then, slowly but surely, each of them took a photo from the folder and looked at it with extreme attention.
And just like that, Shirou felt his hope shatter and his heart stop for a second inside his chest.
'...no,' he mentally hissed with a growing sense of rage, and fear, and apprehension. 'No fucking way... it can't be!'
Caren looked at them one by one, clearly enjoying to see the hesitation and uncertainty inside their eyes. Especially inside Shirou's. "You seem to have forgotten," she said with feigned innocence. "And yet I told you before: those records and documents are not the only founds that have been stolen from the Archives."
The white-haired girl's eyes shone with mischief as she watched them with a twisted smile. She clearly enjoyed watching other people dwell in tension and anxiety.
"Do you see it now?"
Iskandar looked at those images with a raised brow. Next to him, Mordred did the same, clearly more confused than him. "What the heck is this?" she hissed, completely lost and unable to understand.
"Is this… a photo of the Artifact you mentioned before?" Artoria questioned as well, feeling just as perplexed as her Knights and the others were.
Shirou felt a trickle of sweat trickling down his temple. Among his companions, only he knew what it was that he was observing. And that did little to allay his inner turmoil.
'There's no mistake. This is...'
Caren Hortensia's smile was anything but reassuring.
"That, dearest Servants, is the Acheulean Stone."
Sheer silence greeted her declaration.
The Servants observed the photographs, carefully studying the object they depicted. Said object in question was a very particular artifact: a stone – a Phenocryst of rock, actually, with a visibly ancient appearance – composed of a grayish or whitish metal called Phonolite. It had a smooth, almost polished surface and a vaguely rectangular shape; reaching about 12 cm in width and 10 cm in height, making it look more like a small slab than an an actual stone or a crystalline formation. Also, judging from the images, this small stone slab seemed to be very peculiar for some reason, as it showed signs of incisions and cuts at its edges.
Shirou nearly paled visibly at the sight of those images.
Mordred looked at Caren with obvious confusion, her right eyebrow twitching in annoyance as she looked at the photographs without understanding what could be so special about a mere rock. "What the heck is this supposed to be, again?"
The growing irritation of the female Knight only seemed to please the girl further. "A Paleolithic Artifact that used to be displayed in the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archeology of London before the Holy Church bought it and brought it here two years ago," she explained casually, without batting an eye. "It was found ten years ago on a hill top plateau, 1400 feet above sea level, nine miles northwest of the city of Naqada, Egypt."
"And what did the Church do with it?" Iskandar asked promptly, scratching the beard on his chin with a suspicious gaze pointed at the young Mages. "I doubt that priests are interested in collecting ancient stones nowdays."
Olga Marie nodded without batting an eye, shooting a small glare to Caren Hortensia when she scoffed. "That's right. What you're looking at is not a simple ancient stone, but a Magical Artifact," she declared in a serious tone. The Servants narrowed their eyes upon hearing this. "More precisely, it's a small fragment of an Artifact. Several recent studies have shown that the Acheulean Stone is... incomplete. It's a small fragment of a much larger rock slab, which dates back to more than a million years ago. Basically, in short, this is the oldest Magical Artifact ever found by man," she explained solemnly to all of them.
Gawain blinked in confusion. "This tiny fragment of stone... is an Artifact?" he whispered in a low voice, incredulous.
Romulus closed his eyes, crossing his arms with royal elegance. "Trust me, it was hard to believe for us too, at first," he slowly admitted, nodding to Nero next to him. Even Arjuna nodded with his eyes closed.
Lord El-Melloi II sighed upon seeing the general confusion. "Indeed. Believe it or not, that stone is a Magical Artifact. The reason for this is that, according to the reports of its discovery, inside the plate there are – well, there were – subtle but unmistakable traces of magical energy," he explained, his voice calm and succinct; like that of a professor explaining an important topic to his students during a lesson. "Traces of said energy were barely noticeable these days. Almost completely gone, actually. But the Church still decided to purchase this Artifact due to another... particular detail. "
Artoria, Iskandar, Mordred and the others turned instantly serious. Shirou banished any trace of emotion from his face.
"What detail?" the King of Knights asked bluntly.
"This," Olga Marie pointed a finger at one fo the photos, pointing to the rock with an expression even more serious than usual. "Despite its antiquity, there are traces of blood on the surface of the Artifact. Human blood, to be exact."
The group of Servants gaped in shock and disbelief.
The God of War clenched his fists under the table.
Caren Hortensia nodded solemnly. "Basically, in other words, the Acheulean Stone is not only the oldest Magical Artifact in existence… but a Relic as well. The oldest Relic that has ever been found to date," she revealed to all present.
Artoria stared at the images with a frown. "And given the recent theft, you suspect that..."
Olga Marie and Waver Velvet nodded. Caren Hortensia smiled covertly. The Servants narrowed their gazes.
And Shirou closed his eyes, his face devoid of emotions and his mind tormented by memories and voices of a distant past.
"Yes," Lord El-Melloi II confirmed.
The Ritual. The Rock. The Sword. The Sacrifice. The suicide.
The cries. The tears. The farewells. The blood.
"We believe this Artifact is closely related to Tyr's legend..."
The rock.
The blood.
The Ritual.
"...since it was stolen along with all the other artifacts relating to his story."
Shirou sighed heavily, running a hand over her eyes with weariness and resignation. 'I see. That's how it is...'
What a huge, fucking mess.
The air in the room became heavier all of a suddden. The tension was almost physically perceptible.
Artoria Pendragon sighed heavily after hearing those important revelations. "…this is unprecedented," she said in a low, thoughtful voice. Then, her emerald eyes stared at Caren Hortensia with a look full of suspicion. "And definitely suspicious. But still, I can't help but wonder why the Church was the only organization in possession of so many artifacts related to this... God of War. This situation would never have occurred if the finds and the Artifact had not been kept in one place."
The priestess shrugged, looking visibly nonchalant to the female King's suspicion. "The Church has always collected Artifacts and, above all, Relics of various kind over the millennia since its very first foundation," she merely replied. "Especially since it has to compete with the Clock Tower and the Mage's Association. Gathering knowledge, wealth, and valuables is a basic tactic to defend one's dominion and obtain power and influence in the world."
Caren gave the blonde Saber a cold, sadistic smile. "But I'm sure you're very familiar with this, King of Knights... am I right?"
Artoria narrowed her eyes, but wisely remained silent.
Gawain mused to himself for some time, before asking the fateful question that had been lingering in the air for some time now. "Ok then. Let's assume this Artifact and the documents are really related to this… Tyr. Even so, why would a Servant steal them? Why now, in the midst of a conflict?"
"Yeah! What's the point of stealing some useless records and a stupid Artifact with no power during an all-out War? This is making no sense!" Mordred exclaimed, for once agreeing with her older brother.
Silence was their only response for a long, long time.
In the back of his mind, Shirou had to struggle to silence the poisonous voice that was whispering the answer to that question. An answer that, despite everything he had discovered and learned in the last few hours, he still struggled to accept and admit fully. It was impossible. It was simply impossible. Illogical. Surreal.
After all, there was no way such a thing could be possible… right?
"...that is simple, I believe."
Everyone's eyes fell on Waver Velvet's face. Even Shirou opened his eyes to stare at the balck-haired Magus with utmost seriousness. The teacher of the Clock Tower held everyone's gaze with a frown, before voicing the most logical – and, at the same time, the most surreal – suspicion he shared after spending days of speculations and investigations.
After all, this was a Holy Grail War. A full-scale conflict fought by Heroic Spirits. By Servants. Servants who killed each other for the sake of obtaining the Holy Grail. Plus, Servants were warriors of times long past, Familiars, summoned by Mages and humans as living weapons to be used for combat. And Artifacts and historical finds could be used as catalysts to summon them.
"Clearly, the one who stole from the Archives had a goal in mind."
Therefore, based on what they knew so far and given the particular – specific, actually – theft of historical artifacts related to a single legend, the result was... it was...
"And according to our suspicions, this goal is one and one only."
Shirou didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't.
And yet, Lord El-Melloi II's words reached him all the same, piercing his heart and mind with a feeling of horror, disgust, fear and... amusement. All at the same time.
"To summon the God of War Tyr as a Servant, and use him in the Holy Grail War."
Shirou Emiya laughed.
The others in the room turned to him immediately.
It began as a soft chuckle. A small giggle, a chuckle, barely audible. Then it grew, until it erupted into a full-blown laughter.
And yet, Shirou didn't stop. He continued to laugh, openly, without demeanor, leaning slightly from his chair, his body shaking with laughter. He even slammed his hand on the table, shaking his head as his laughter continued nonstop, undeterred; unmistakable sign of the excessive stress he had accumulated during that discussion. And now, now that stress had finally exploded, unable to be contained within his heart. And so, he continued to laugh, his eyes tearing up and the sound of his laughter echoing around the room amidst the incredulous and stunned silence of the others.
Mordred, Iskandar, Artoria and the others observed him as if he had grown another head. His companions, above all, were looking at him with evident shock, stunned by his unusual and weird reaction. Shirou had never reacted like this before. It wasn't like him to make such a scene. The red-haird Ruler had always been serious, solemn, inflexible; in every occasion. He had never lost his composure. Or, at least, he had never done it this way, so openly and carelessly as he had now. This was a first, in the literal sense of the word.
And that was enough to shock everyone. Mordred and Iskandar looked floored, in a literal sense, as if they were about to fall from their seats. Artoria was staring at Shirou with her eyes wider than usual and mouth slightly agape, similar to Bedivere and Gawain. And Waver and Olga Marie were observing him with bewilderment, clearly flabbergasted by that sudden reaction. Even the usually calm and collected Arjuna looked torn between being concerned or suspicious, much like Romulus as well. The only person who seemed genuinely confused right now was Nero, and that was only because of her exuberant and cheerful character.
Caren, from her part, merely watched him as if he had gone crazy without a trace of interest.
But for those who knew Shirou, this reaction wasn't something that could be dismissed so casually.
Amidst the red-head's laughter, Artoria was the first to find her voice again. "...Shirou?" she ventured, sounding both worried and stunned as she spoke. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. He didn't care. He simply continued to laugh, shaking his head with an incredulous expression. His reaction only served to make the others worry even more.
"Ohi, Ruler... are you okay?" Mordred rose from her chair and touched him on the arm, her brow visibly frowning as she watched him with suspicious eyes. "What is wrong with you? What's so funny about this?"
"Boy, are you ok?" Iskandar followed suit, his red eyes narrowed in… suspicion.
Caren cast a disinterested glance at everyone in the room. "Has he gone crazy?" she casually asked. "Shall I perform an exorcism here and now?"
"Please don't," Lord El-Melloi II answered with a sweat-drop, even though his face was still morphed in a mask of shock as he stared at the Ruler being overwhelmed with an endless fit of laughter.
"Uuh... what's happening to him?" Nero asked as well, turning to Arjuna.
The Indian Archer shrugged. "I've never seen him react that way," he commented with a raised brow.
Once again, Shirou ignored them all as if they didn't exist. He couldn't help it. He simply couldn't. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, his body began to calm down little by little. Laughter turned to giggles, and after another short while the giggles died down entirely. The Ruler exhaled, long and ragged, his face still torn between a grimance and a smirk, and he ran a hand across his hair and face. His shoulders were still shaking from the persistent chuckles, despite his best efforts to calm down. The others continued to stare at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
But he didn't care. He didn't care at all. He didn't care one fucking bit about their concern, their suspicion, their thoughts right now.
Because this… this was… too much. It was too much, even for him.
He had lived for over five thousand years. He had seen numerous things, he had lived through countless experiences. He had faced adversaries of indescribable power, killed unstoppable enemies, tamed numerous races on Earth. Countless were the places he had visited and the deeds he had performed.
But this?
Someone trying to summon him as a Servant? Trying to use him as a living weapon?
He wasn't laughing because he was amused. He wasn't laughing because he was crazy. He was laughing because it was the only thing he could do in that moment.
Because if he hadn't laughed right now, then his anger and his outrage would have manifested once again after more than a thousand years. And the people around him would have been heavily affected by it.
This was a huge, fucking mess indeed.
The God of War let out a long, ragged breath, quelling the last giggles as he shook his head and rubbed his eyes with his fingers.
The others watched him morbidly with attention.
"…Good grief," he finally sighed in the end, his lips still curved in a smile devoid of joy and mirth. "What a mess."
The others hesitated visibly, still bewildered by his reaction. Slowly, tentatively, Iskandar moved to Mordred's side and put a hand on his shoulder. "Boy... are you ok?" he asked him again, uncertain.
Shirou didn't register the question. He didn't even hear his words. His mind was an angry, confused turmoil of emotions, memories, thoughts. A mass of chaos and total confusion. A veritable flood of thoughts and feelings too confused to be described. But still, whatever it was that he was feeling at that moment, it eventually led to his mind suddenly emptying, going completely blank and devoid of emotions, and thoughts, and feelings.
Someone had stolen the artifacts related to his past. He had stolen a fragment of the Rock on which he had performed the Ritual. He had stolen all that was left of his cursed history and past. This meant that said someone knew who he was. They knew his story, what he had done, and what he had caused in the world during his youth.
And said someone was possibly looking for a way to summon him as a Servant.
...
Was that supposed to be a joke?
'Cause he wasn't laughing anymore.
The God of War had had enough.
'...fuck this shit.'
He needed to get out of here.
"I'm out."
Mordred, Iskandar and the others physically jumped when they saw Shirou raising from his seat, his expression cold and his brows frowning in thought. It had been a sudden, extremely sudden change. One moment he had laughed openly as if he'd gone mad, and the next he was as serious and cold as death himself again. As if all of his previous 'euphoria' had suddenly vanished completely, replaced by a cold, cruel and merciless blank expression. Even his body began to emit an oppressive aura around him. Or so it seemed to them, at least.
The Knight of Treachery stared at him with wide eyes. "...huh?"
Shirou looked at her. Something shone inside his golden-brown eyes. Something cold and unpleasant. "I'm leaving. I need some time alone," he spoke, and for once his voice sounded as cold and sharp as a real blade.
His statement stunned everyone.
"W-What?"
Olga Marie got up abruptly from her chair, looking both confused and shocked by his words. Mr. Waver and the others were sharing her confusion right now. Even Shirou's own companions were.
"Leaving? Why? Where!?"
Shirou raised a hand to silence her. "I need some time to think. This place is too noisy. I can't concentrate," he said again, his face an emotionless mask as he spoke.
It was a lie. It was clearly a lie. For those who knew him, it was clear as day that Shirou was troubled right now. They didn't know what it was, they didn't know why, but it was clear there was something wrong with him. Artoria and the others could see it clearly. It was in the way his fists were clenched tightly, in the way his jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth, and even in the forceful, cold tone of his voice.
This... This wasn't Shirou. This wasn't the Shirou that Mordred, Iskandar and Artoria knew.
The King of Knights stood up as well. "Shirou, what are you saying?" she walked over to him, reaching out for his shoulder. "What's wrong with you? You were acting strange for a while now. Are you-"
"I'm sorry, Artoria. But I need some time alone," he cut her off immediately, coldly, without even meeting her eyes. His body was as stiff as a statue.
Even Mordred and Iskandar looked unconvinced. The whole room observed that interaction with wide eyes and bated breath. "...what's wrong with you all of a sudden?" the female Knight questioned him seriously. For once, she refrained from showing her inner irritation at the current situation. The others supposed it was because she was worried, but they couldn't blame her. Shirou looked… scary, right now. Downright scary, on all counts. His gaze was frosty, his face blank, and his voice cold as never before.
The red-haired Ruler looked at her, again, and for once a glimmer of sadness seemed to flash in his golden-brown eyes. Then, he shook his head and turned away with a conflicted expression. "I'm fine. I just… need some time alone. Please."
The others were too confused, too shocked, to argue. They didn't know what to say. They didn't know what to think. They had never seen him behave this way before.
The God of War gave his friends one last glance. "...I'm sorry. I'll come back in a few hours."
That being said, without adding anything else, Shirou began to step away from the group amidst the general silence, heading for the door at a brisk pace.
A hand suddenly grabbed him by the arm.
He turned to meet Caren Hortensia glaring at him. The white-haired priestess fixed him with a stern eye. "And where do you think you're going?" she spat, her voice cold, abrupt and devoid of any sympathy or empathy whatsoever. Her eyes were literally threatening him with their unnerving intensity. "We're not finished yet. I still need to explain our mis–"
"I'll give you one, single warning," he cut her off mid-speech, without a care. Both his voice and his eyes were as cold as steel as he glared right back at her. "Release me. Right. Now."
"Or else what, Ruler?" she challenged him in a monotone, narrowing her golden eyes and staring at him without an ounce of fear or hesitation. "Will you force me to release you? Or perhaps you'll rape me violently? I wouldn't mind... except that kind of thing is awfully unlike you. Don't you agree, Emiya Shirou?"
The room fell into a cold, icy silence after those heavy words. The others present stared at the scene with wide eyes and mouth agape. Even Iskandar's eyebrow where completely raised for shock by now. Whoever that vulgar-tongued priestess was, she seemed to have no kind of moral restraint. And no common sense as well. To actually say something like this in front of a Servant… in front of a Ruler, even… she had to be quite brave. As well as foolish and stupid, of course.
In response, Shirou rounded on the smaller girl like a lion staring at a gazelle. Then, without any hesitation or second thoughts whatsoever, he reached out and actually grabbed the collar of her church robe, lifting the priestess with a single arm.
That action shocked everyone, including Caren Hortensia herself. The girl began to sweat nervously as soon as her feet lost contact with the ground, slightly kicking the air as she watched the cold and merciless face of Shirou who observed her as if she were a mere insect without a single relevance. His golden-brown eyes shone with rage as he glared at her, and the girl could not help but shiver and grab the arm that was holding her in the air, sweating profusely and gritting her teeth with shocked tension.
"Ruler! Wait! Don't hurt her!" Olga Marie yelled, almost on the verge of panic.
Behind her, Nero and Romulus moved to intervene, their hands twitching lightly, ready to summon their weapons with a mental command and spring into action at the first sign of trouble. Arjuna, on the other hand, remained as still and motionless as ever, merely observing the scene with narrowed eyes, similar to Lord El-Melloi II. Mordred, Iskandar, Artoria and the Knights did not react.
But Shirou didn't pay attention to the others in the room. His eyes remained glued to Caren's increasingly panicked face, glaring at her with fury and a pair of bloodshot eyes. "This is the last chance I'll give you," he hissed to her. His voice was cold, frighteningly cold, and combined with his current snarl, those words made the girl's skin crawl. "Test my patience again, little girl, and you'll regret it deeply. I won't show you mercy just because you're young. I. Will. Make. You. Suffer," he promised, serious as death itself.
Caren Hortensia gulped audibly, fixing his menacing eyes with an obvious hint of dread and fear. No human being could remain indifferent to the fury of the God of War, no matter who he or she was. Her whole body lost its strength due to the indescribable tension running through her veins.
Two seconds of silence passed. Then, all of a sudden, Shirou released her abruptly to the ground, still glaring at her with a frosty gaze. And finally, without further ado, he swiftly turned and stepped away, walking out the door with a firm step.
And the entire room fell into a tense and absolute silence.
The white-haired priestess stared blankly at the door the Ruler had just exited through. Then, after a second of complete stillness, her knees shook and her legs gave out, and she slowly slumped to the ground with a blank gaze.
After a couple of moments had passed, Arjuna blinked a couple of times. "…Well, someone left in a hurry," was all he said, both his voice and face devoid of emotions.
Lord El-Melloi II sighed heavily, running a hand over his face as he muttered softly, complaining about that problematic turn of events. At the same time, Olga Marie Animusphere moved to join Caren Hortensia, offering her a hand to help her stand from the floor. "Are you ok?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the smaller girl's face.
The priestess did not answer immediately. Her body shook slightly. Her head lowered a bit.
And then, much to everyone's confusion, Caren raised her head and revealed to the world a blushing and obviously excited face.
Iskandar, Mordred and the others stared at her with mouths agape.
"T-That look in his eyes," Caren whispered to herself, her voice a mixture of a giggle and a moan. "The way he looked at me… as If I was an insect… o-oh God! That was the f-first time someone treated me so roughly. I-It was… it was…" she panted, hugginge herself with her arms while her breath became heavier and heavier in twisted pleasure. Olga Marie paled visibly when she saw her smile turning devilous, the flush on her face growing even more. "This sensation! This feeling! O-Ooh...!"
The others shivered - literally - as they looked at that crazed priestess moaning and giggling to herself. Something dark and twisted shone in her yellow eyes for a couple of seconds.
Olga Marie began to sweat profusely. 'Oh no! Something's awakening inside her!' she mentally screamed.
'Stop her! Somebody please stop that girl!' Waver inwardly prayed as well (in vain).
"M-More! I must experience more! Ufufufu..."
Mordred glanced at Caren with a sneer of disgust – much like everyone else in the room. Most of the Servants sweat-dropped at the scene. 'Tch. How disgusting. That girl is a freaking psycho.'
Incredibly, Nero was the first one to regain her composure and refocus on what had happened before. "Excuse me, fellow warriors... can someone please explain to us what happened?" she suddenly exclaimed aloud, raising an arm to attract everyone's attention. "What happened to Preator? Why did he leave like that? Did we do something wrong to him?"
The only answer she received was a tense and perplexed silence.
And indeed, none of those present really had any idea of what had just happened. They didn't know what was wrong with Shirou, or why he had reacted in that strange and unusual way so unexpectedly. That was a first. It was the first time they had seen him 'explode' and react so strangely for no apparent reason. Even Artoria, who was the one who harbored more doubts and interest in Ruler, had absolutely no idea of what was going through his head at that moment. And this left her decidedly perplexed and full of questions.
'Shirou Emiya... what happened to you?' she wondered helplessly inside her mind, her eyes wandering for a few seconds on the door through which the red-haired Ruler had just left a few minutes earlier. Yet, much to her frustration and disappointment, that question would find no answer right now.
"I don't get it either," Lord El-Melloi II mused out loud. "We were just talking about a new potential threat that could endanger the world. Why did he react like this? It was a serious discussion."
"Hmpf. Leaving in the middle of such an important talk… I knew that Ruler was no good. He has no manners at all," Olga Marie scoffed, returning to the table with Caren and crossing her arms with a frown.
Arjuna eyed her warily. "Mind your words carefully, lady Marie. It's a friend and an ally you're talking about. A very strong and important one, moreover," he warned her.
The director of the Atlas Institute glared at him, but she wisely chose to not complain anymore when she saw that even Artoria and the Knights were watching her with stern looks that intimated her to be silent.
At the same time, Mordred and Iskandar exchanged a silent glance, sharing their mutual perplexity, but in the end they both ended up mulling over something in their heads, trying to figure out what had happened to their comrade.
Romulus ran a hand over his chin. "…Perhaps he simply left to digest all the news," the tanned and muscular Lancer speculated, falling in thoughts as everyone's gaze fell on him. "Learning that a new threat could loom over the world must have been a severe blow for him. His goal is to stop this War and protect humanity. He's a Ruler, after all. Therefore, he's the one who has the most responsibility on his shoulders. As the Father of the great city of Rome, I sympathize with him."
He then closed his red eyes, face morphing into a sad frown. "Yes, indeed. I understand the feeling. I too sometimes needed to pause and ponder when I was distressed after my brother's death. My brother Remus... even now thoughts of him fill me with regret."
The others fell into a contemplative silence after the words of the founder of Rome. Especially Artoria, Iskandar and the Knights.
Nero nodded with a dejected air. around her "Umu. I wasn't thrilled either when I learned all of this," she slowly admitted, her tone lower and more contrite than usual.
After a little pause, Iskandar let out a heavy, weary breath. "I suppose that even the boy needs some time to process everything," he sighed in the end. The others turned to him as the King of Conquerors ran a hand through his hair. "Learning that an opponent like... the God of War could seriously be summoned in this War is by no means a good news."
Artoria nodded in agreement. "Indeed. That just made our job even more difficult."
Even Arjuna seemed to agree on that subject. "As much as I loathe to admit it, if Ruler left to calm himself down, then he's not completely wrong," he stated with an even tone. Although his voice was calm, there was a veil of tension present inside his black eyes. The other Servants did not fail to notice it, much to their growing anxiety. "An enemy like Tyr could very well represent an insurmountable threat to us and those who, like us, are aiming for the stability of the planet. According to my father's words, this man was impossible to defeat during the Age of Gods. There was no one who could truly match him back then."
That seemed to demoralize those present even further.
"...was this guy really that powerful?" Mordred asked at that point.
The Indian Archer nodded with a solemn expression. "Me and my brothers didn't live with my Father for long when we were alive, but I know how strong he was. When I still lived in the Reverse Side of the World, I learned a lot about Gods. They fear nothing and no one. But every time my Father spoke of Tyr… things changed drastically, believe me. That was the first time I actually saw fear inside his eyes. He was scared of him," he revealed with utmost seriousness, almost frowning at the memory.
The other Servants physically flinched. Even Caren became more silent than usual.
"He was a monster, Saber," Iskandar repeated again, attracting the attention of Mordred, his voice more serious than usual. Despite his usual boisterous manner, even he seemed tense at the mention of such an entity. "According to the legends, he's the strongest warrior that ever existed. And the cruelest, too."
"And the legend is, unfortunately, true," Gawain sighed as well, once again looking at the photos and documents scattered around the table with a conflicted face. "This... I never thought things could end this way."
Nero giggled nervously with a thin smile. "U-Umu… that is troubling. What a unfortunate turn of events, truly..."
Silence reigned supreme for several moments.
Until, once again, Caren Hortensia broke it.
"You seem to have now understood the gravity of the situation," she said in her usual monotonous tone. "So, as you can see, what happened here could be of vital importance to end this Holy Grail War. This matter is of utmost importance."
"That's right. If we manage to find the thief and stop him before Tyr can be summoned, we can prevent this threat before its too late," Olga Marie declared as well, emphatically, her gray eyes staring at every Servant with fiery intensity. It was as if a fire had been lit inside her eyes.
Artoria narrowed her gaze. "And how do you plan to do it?" she questioned with suspicion. "Earlier you said that the thief's identity has not been discovered yet."
"It's true, but we still have a lead," Lord El-Melloi II intervened at that point, attracting everyone's attention. The black-haired Magus sighed. "We've received new informations from some members of the Church this morning. According to some sources, there is a certain person who may be aware of the identity of the Servant who stole the artifacts from the Archives. That's why I called you all here. We need you help for this task."
He then sighed with a resigned expression under everyone's gaze. "I wanted to share this information to Shirou as well... but given what happened, I suppose we'll have to wait for him to return."
Once again, Mordred and Iskandar exchanged a silent glance.
Caren Hortensia smiled a twisted, perversed smile on her lips. "You know, I wouldn't mind going to fetch him, if you want," she said with a strange – extremely strange – glint in her golden eyes. "It would be pointless to discuss a strategy without him. Furthermore, I'd like to experience that feeling aga–"
"Don't bother," Mordred cut her off all of a sudden, waving a hand in a dismissive tone. The white-haired priestess rounded on her with narrowed eyes. "That's not something you can do, you crazy priestess. Ruler would only end up getting even more angry at your sight. It's useless."
Caren glared at her with her cold eyes for a few seconds, but as much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew the Knight of Treachery was right for once. She even pouted – actually pouted – in her seat after those words.
Olga Marie frowned. "Then who's going to bring him back?" she exclaimed angrily. "We don't exactly have time to waste."
Mordred merely snorted, rising from her chair with a solemn and determined look. "Me and Rider," she replied casually, nodding her head at the muscular Servant.
The Macedonian Emperor blinked. "Hoh? We are?"
The girl sighed with an annoyed face. "Yes," she stressed forcefully, motioning him to follow her towards the exit. "We're the ones who know him the most. He won't send us away," she explained, giving him a strange look. "I trust you have no issue with that, right?"
Iskandar blinked again, before shaking his head. "Of course not. But... I must say that I'm curious," he admitted out of the blue, getting up from his chair while everyone else observed their interaction. A strange smile formed on the Rider's lips. "Why are you so determined to go to him, Saber? I know you have a lot of questions, but the boy just needs some time alone. He needs time to think. There's no need to go search for him. He'll come back eventually. We can simply wait for him here. Am I right?"
Mordred paused, mulling that question inside her head over and over again.
Indeed. From a logical point of view, the King of Conquerors was right. He was absolutely right. Shirou was just stressed out. He needed time to be alone. He needed time to think. He would definitely come back, just as he himself had said before leaving. Besides, she had no idea what his problem was. She didn't know what had happened to him to make him react in that unexpected way. And quite frankly, it was none of her business. They were allies, of course, but she wasn't involved with Shirou more than that. Therefore, she had no right to intrude on his private moments and force him to return.
She knew this. She goddamn knew this already. And yet… and yet…
He was suffering.
Mordred felt her stomach sink at that thought. After all, despite her short temper and her usual behavior, she was no fool. She knew this. She knew that Shirou was suffering. Right now, in this very same moment, her companion was upset, and torn, and troubled about something… and Mordred knew it. She had seen it during the previous discussion, after all. She had noticed almost immediately the way he had been so unusually quiet during the talk. She had noticed the unnatural pallor of his face, the trickles of sweat, the clenched fists. All of it. She knew there was something wrong with him. She simply didn't know what, or why.
But that reason alone wasn't enough to bother him right now. After all, if he hadn't said anything about this matter, then he must have had a reason to keep it secret. And who was she to force another Servant to reveal something that she wasn't even interested in? She had no reason to go and search for him.
And yet… and yet… she still wanted to.
Why, then?
And in that moment, while she mulled those thoughts inside of her head, something happened out of the blue.
The female Knight didn't know how it happened. She didn't know why it happened. Yet, despite her confusion, a few images surfaced in her mind at that moment. Memories. Memories of when she and her Father had met again after all this time. Of when they had had a certain 'discussion' in the Clock Tower. Of when she fled in tears, overwhelmed by the anger and outrage that had clouded her heart and mind because of her Father's misguided dream.
And along with all those memories, she also remembered another scene.
The image of Shirou's smiling and sympathetic face consoling her during her worst moment of weakness.
And the words that the Ruler had said to her back then suddenly echoed inside her head.
'I just... don't want you to be alone.'
'And I know you could use some company right now.'
Her fists tightened with force and decision.
Just like that, without even realizing it fully, she found her answer.
Her eyes narrowed in resolve.
'...why do you even care?'
Mordred Pendragon strengthened her resolve.
'Because...'
"...he's my friend," she answered easily. There was no trace of hesitation in her face as she answered. "And he needs us. We're a team, Rider. Did you forget?"
In response, Iskandar burst out laughing, surprising her and everyone else in the room.
"Hoho? How amusing. How amusing indeed!" he exclaimed with his bellowing laughter, looking visibly relieved and pleased by that strange unfolding of events. A mighty grin split his lips under the girl's stunned expression. "Took you long enough to admit it, Saber. You finally said it, at long last! Was it so hard to admit that you care for the boy?"
The female Knight flinched, her face glowing crimson to the tips of her ears. Her eyes widened when a certain realization occurred to her at the sight of his sly grin. "Y-You! Did you make that question just to make me say this!?" she hissed angrily, shooting a poisonous look at the gigantic Servant.
"Of course not! I was just testing your resolve!" he countered, widening his grin even more. It was clear as day that he had been teasing her the whole time, and he was in no way sorry for it. Then, his red eyes softened as he crossed his arms and nodded to her in approval. "But you're right. I was thinking the exact same thing. The boy is our comrade. Our friend. And if he's suffering right now, then we have to do something to help him. This is concerning for our mission, and the safety of the whole world."
Mordred scoffed, her face still red for embarrassment. "Tch. Than say so sooner, muscle-head. I was already prepared to punch you," she said, only mostly mocking.
"Bwahahaha! I knew it. You're pretty soft despite your foul mouth, huh?"
"S-Shut up! I'm tough, not soft!"
"Hah! You won't fool me, Saber. You're actually being considerate to the boy for once. That is all the proof I need!"
"D-Damn you!"
The boastful King dismissed her words with a laugh and a pat on her shoulder. A very strong pat. The blonde girl almost stumbled to the side from the force of the blow.
The others in the room stared at them and their strange interaction with wide eyes for the whole time. Especially Artoria, Bedivere and Gawain.
Then, Iskandar stepped forward with his trade-mark grin. "Very well, then! Let's go find the boy and bring him back, Saber!" he declared loudly with decision, pointing a finger towards the exit with exaggerated theatricality and an expression full of trepidation and confidence. "Our comrade needs us!"
The Knight of Treachery readily agreed, nodding at her friend's words with a wide smirk on her lips.
"Wait!"
The two Servants stopped abruptly in front of the door. Then, slowly, they turned to the person who had called them, and their gazes met a pair of regal and determined emerald eyes.
Artoria Pendragon held their gaze with confidence and strength. "Let me come with you," she declared as well.
The effect was immediate. As soon as the female King finished that sentence, the room was filled with tension again. Bedivere and Gawain widened their eyes, shocked by their King's unexpected decision, and looked torn between being indecisive and hesitant on the matter. Their eyes were flickering frantically between Mordred and Artoria, nervous and unsure of what could happened now. Olga Marie, Caren Hortensia and Waver Velvet also observed the scene with interest along with the rest of their allies.
Iskandar had no reaction after the King of Knights made her declaration. He said nothing, did nothing, nor did he react in any apparent way. He just narrowed his eyes, shooting a hidden glance at Mordred, silently wondering how his companion would react to a similar turn of events.
And Mordred… as expected, Mordred did not disappoint. The Knight of Treachery suddenly rounded on her father with a slow, menacing movement; her eyes glaring at the taller woman with a gaze that was hostile, and inquisitive, and fiery like no other. She struggled to keep a snarl from appearing on her lips. Given the 'strained' relationship between father and son, it was a miracle that the younger Saber hadn't jumped on the other to attack her after that intrusion. Even still, hostility was clearly perceptible in her voice when she retorted after a couple of seconds.
"No."
Artoria Pendragon frowned in displeasure. A moment later, however, she raised her chin with a determined expression. Clearly she had no intention of being dismissed so easily by one of her own Knights. Failure or not, she was still a King, ans as such she had a great pride. "…I see no reason why I can't," she replied cooly without backing down.
Mordred's eyes grew even more hostile than before. "The reason is that I said so. Got a problem with that?" she hissed venomously.
The taller Saber glared at her. "Are you challenging your King, Mordred?"
"Spare me the lecture, Father. I told you already: you may have been once, but you're not my King anymore. You're not, and you never will. So keep you useless words to yourself and piss off."
That statement made the air suddenly freeze, even more so given the blatant anger in Mordred's tone and expression. Artoria flinched visibly, as if she had been slapped by those words, and she pursed her lips into a thin line with a conflicted expression. Her fists balled up into fists as her arms shook slightly.
The other two Knights could not stand and watch further. "How dare you, Mordred!" Gawain raged with a snarl, rising abruptly from his seat and approaching the Knight of Rebellion menacingly. Galatine had already appeared in his hands with a burst of light and prana. "To actually use such tone in front of the King! Have you fallen so far? Have you no shame?"
Bedivere looked more concerned than anything, but even he was glaring at the young girl now. "Mordred, please stop this. Her Majesty was only trying to–"
"I don't care," Mordred spat vehemently, completely ignoring Bedivere and Gawain and keeping her angry eyes solely focused on the icy face of the King of Knights. "I don't give a fuck about his intentions. He's not coming with us, and that's final."
Iskandar put a hand on her shoulder. "Keep it down, Saber. You're scaring the others."
Slowly, very slowly, the female Knight teared her eyes away from her father's face to look at the rest of the room. Lord El-Melloi II, Olga Marie and the other Servants were watching the scene with evident tension, more silent and nervous than ever. Arjuna had even summoned his white and golden bow, ready to intervene if a conflict broke out. After all, the hostility between her and Artoria was as obvious as day, so no one really knew what could happen during that discussion. The humans, in particular, seemed completely lost, as if they didn't know how to react in that situation. Nero and Romulus looked torn between being stunned and nervous as well.
Only Caren Hortensia was watching the scene with sparkling eyes, looking very intrigued by the tension in the air. "Oh my! Don't mind us, sir Mordred. Keep going, by all means. This is very interesting," she casually said with a flat tone, waving her hand to urge her to continue. If she had some popcorn right now, she would have looked like an enraptured child watching a compelling movie.
Mordred growled, shaking Iskandar's hand off, but for once she decided it was best not to make a scene in that situation. Still, her glare didn't disappear as she turned to face her father once again. "You're not coming with us. Now leave us alone, before I make you," she threatened in a menacing tone.
"Mind your words, Mordred!" Gawain practically roared, stepping forward with his broadsword drawn. "Have you forgotten everything of Chivalry!?"
Artoria raised a hand, stopping him instantly. Her face was cold, stoic, but there was an indescribable firmness in her green eyes as she glared at her 'son'. She clearly had no intention of backing down from the challenge. "That's not for you to decide. You can't stop me just because you despise me," she stated evenly.
"Screw you! Ruler's our friend! This is between us alone!"
"He's my friend too."
Mordred had the audacity to laugh with derision at those words. That reaction surprised Artoria quite a bit. Even Iskandar narrowed his eyes as he watched the unfolding scene with a calculating glint.
"Friend?" Mordred repeated, smiling in disdain and outrage at her father's face. "Don't make me laugh, Arthur. You're an emotionless King. A monster that doesn't understand emotions. What were your words? 'A King must walk his path alone...' Besides these two idiots and those fools who served and followed you in Camelot, there's no way that a sane person could ever want to have anything to do with you. You have no friends. You never had, and never will!" the younger girl mocked her, offering her a mocking smile similar to a disgusted sneer.
Artoria physically winced upon hearing this, and the expression of disgust that her son was offering her only served to increase the shame inside her.
But still, the woman's glare soared. "What makes you think you have the right to say something like that?" she retorted with a frosty tone.
"I have every right to say that!" Mordred countered with a growl. Her expression was more animalistic than human by now. "When I served under you, you completely ignored me! You wouldn't say something nice to me, wouldn't bother to see my accomplishments, wouldn't deign me of a single glance! You wouldn't even acknowledge me as a person! There's no way a monster like you could ever hope to make a friend now!"
Gawain and Bedivere looked downright outraged after those words. But Artoria made them stand still with a single glance. Then, she turned back to her son once again and took on a more... conflicted expression. "Mordred... I'm sorry about that," she spoke again, taking a long, deep breath and trying to collect herself. "I admit... I made a lot of mistakes with you and the other Knights. I failed to be a true King for all of you. But I've never–"
"I don't care, Father. Your words mean nothing to me," the Knight of Treachery cut her off without the slightest interest.
Artoria Pendragon stared at her with a frown. Then, she sighed with a resigned expression. It was painfully obvious to everyone that she was trying very hard to restrain herself and remain calm throughout this whole situation. Still, words didn't seem to work with her rebellious child. "I see," she finally whispered. It was imperceptible, almost invisible, actually… but for a moment or two, her eyes seemed to flash with sadness. She looked dejected as she spoke. "Then… at least, allow me to do something. Something to prove that I'm sorry."
"…alright," Mordred replied promptly, surprising the older woman and the other Knights quite a lot.
Iskandar observed his companion with all the attention in the world.
And then, suddenly and out of the blue, Mordred Pendragon glared fiercely to Artoria Pendragon. "If you really want to do something for me, then you just need to leave me alone," the girl hissed with a cruel smile on her lips. "And never bother me again!"
That request was met with dead silence. Those who witnessed the scene – Knights and Servants and humans – widened their eyes with bewilderment and shock. Even Iskandar seemed baffled by her companion's words, perhaps even more than Artoria herself.
But on her part, Mordred merely continued to smile cruelly in front of the rest of the world, fixing her father with a twisted and cruel smirk. "That's right, Father. Your son has feelings. Does that surprise you?" she mocked her without any hesitation, her smirk growing even more enraged when she saw the woman's lips quiver and tighten into a thin line. "And he will never disregard them like you did. I couldn't care less that you're sorry, because I will never forget what I went through! And that's why... I will never forgive you!"
Artoria remained completely still, her eyes shadowed by her golden bangs.
That was the moment when Iskandar had enough.
With a heavy sigh, he moved one of his mighty arms and grabbed the female Knight's shoulder with a strong grip. "Saber, stop it. Don't be so reckless."
She rounded on him with a powerful glare. "No, Rider! Did you already forget what he and those idiots made me go through in Scotland? And in London? And all those annoying comments and nagging during our travels? Because I didn't, and I never will!"
"Even still, we agreed to work with them for the time being. We're allies. Fomenting discord and conflict within our group is inadmissible," the King of Conquerors pointed out sternly, staring at her from above with his imposing figure. "You must be better than this. I know you're frustrated, but we have no choice now. Whether you like it or not, we need to cooperate with them to face this War and Tyr's threat. This is too important, Saber."
"I don't care! If they think I'll simply ignore them and let them do what they want just because of that, then they can go fuc–"
"Fine."
Iskandar and Mordred turned back to the King of Knights. Gawain and Bedivere did the same, shocked, along with the rest of the room.
Artoria had closed her eyes, her expression a mixture of sadness, decision and firmness all together. "If that's what you want... then so be it. I will leave you alone, and never bother you again, Mordred."
The wild Knight narrowed her eyes on the calm and collected King.
"But first," Artoria opened her eyes, staring at her with a look as hard as steel and as cold as ice. "As much as it may pain me, you are a representative of Camelot, and of the Knights of the Round Table. Therefore, as King, I cannot tolerate your behavior. I can't bear to see our group and our mission crumble because of you. Not like this, and not again. I cannot afford to stand by and do nothing in front of a petulant child throwing a tantrum."
Mordred felt the anger roar inside her heart like a living inferno. Her body began to visibly shake in rage.
Every second felt like a strike.
"…always proud and unaffected, always wise and righteous," the female Knight sneered, her fury growing by the second, just like the snarl on her lips. "Go ahead, then. Keep you mask on, Arthur. It doesn't matter what you say: I couldn't care less of your opinion now. I'm no longer the same fool who longed for your acknowledgment. Just leave me alone... like you always have."
The blonde King's eyes flashed for a second after those taunting words. Nonetheless, Artoria didn't back down from her son's glare this time. On the contrary, her expression hardened even more.
And when she saw that look, something happened inside Mordred.
The anger subsided, the ferocity became dulled, and the girl finally experienced an emotion that she was not used to feel: fear. For once – for the first time in her entire life – the fearless Knight of Treachery felt a shiver of fear and anxiety suddenly run through her spine. For the first time ever, the overconfindent and evil Knight who had brought down Camelot on her own felt true, actual fear…
…because for the first time in her life, the look the King of Knights was giving her was filled with resentment and anger.
Mordred widened her eyes and parted her lips in shock.
"Mordred," Artoria spoke once again, her body tall and imposing and her expression as solemn as a statue. And when she herd her name being called with that frosty tone of voice, the younger girl almost jumped in surprise for no reason. "I challenge you to a duel. A single combat, between you an me, to put an end to this feud and conclude this dispute once and for all."
...
What?
After those words, Mordred gaped with wide, stunned eyes filled with disbelief. Aside from her, the Knights closed their eyes with a resigned expression, while several mouths in the room dropped at the scene. Even Iskandar widened his eyes along with Waver, Olga Marie, Caren and the other Servants.
Silence reigned supreme for what seemed like an eternity.
"I know what you're thinking," the King spoke before the other girl could recover from her astonishment and say something. "I'm not challenging you right here. Not here, not now. We have other priorities, unfortunately. First, we must deal with our current mission. But then, when our task is finished and the situation under control again, I want to exchange blades with you, and settle this dispute for good. You and me, face to face, once and for all. And if you win, you'll be free to do whatever you want with me. Even kill me."
The younger Saber narrowed her eyes on the woman with silent disbelief.
Artoria stared right back at her, cold and unmerciful as never before. "You did say it once, didn't you? That one day you would rip my heart from my chest with your bare hands. Let's see if you manage to stay true to your words," she challenged her, again, without any fear or hesitation whatsoever.
Mordred gritted her teeth. Her fists clenched so hard that her arms trembled slightly. She was one step away - literally one step away - from exploding completely. "…you just dug your own grave, Arthur," she spat right back at her, her tone matching the rage and fury that coursed through her veins like liquid fire. "I will make you suffer so much that you will wish you were back at Camlann."
The female King merely quirked her lips. Barely. "We will see about that."
Mordred glared. Then snorted. Then, she scoffed and turned away. "Fine. I hope you won't regret it, old man."
Then, without further ado, she stormed out of the room without ever looking back; followed by a silent King of Conquerors who shot one last, calculating glance at Artoria before hurrying behind his companion to go search for Ruler.
Artoria closed her eyes, her face returning cold and regal as ever after a few seconds. Then, without saying anything, she returned to her own seat at the table with a cold and unreadable expression, remaining completely silent under the confused and shocked gazes of everyone else in the room.
The Founder of Rome, Romulus, rubbed his temples with a weary expression while Nero looked around with visible hesitation.
'By the Gods... this group of Servants is more fractured than Rome itself.'
Planet: Earth
Date: June 3 2020
Location: Underground levels – Clock Tower (London - England)
(======)
"Let me ask you one last time, lass: are you sure this is a good idea?"
Rin clenched her fists as she stared to the vaulted door reinforced with Magical Seals which glowed like blazing lights into the dark corridor. Another trickle of sweat dripped from her cheek. She could practically feel Gray's eyes burning on her back with growing concern, along with the cold, calculating stare that Cu Chulainn was fixing her as he studied her expression intently. She knew they were worried right now. She knew they had a lot of doubts. But still, she would not back down from this. It was her choice – and her duty as a Magus – to do whataver it takes to find out the truth and stop this accursed War once and for all. She couldn't stay put and do nothing when the human race was facing an unknown threat during a world-wide War.
So, she swallowed hard and made her decision again. Her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white as snow.
"No," she answered truthfully. "But we have no choice. We need to do this, even without Sensei. The situation is a mess already, and we can't afford to do nothing and wait if we're really dealing with a new threat now. We're on our own, and we need all the help we can get."
Then, she shot a knowing stare at the blue Lancer next to her. "Besides, you're gonna be right next to us. If he tries something, then I'll trust you to deal with him. Is that a problem for you?" she asked right back at him with a pedantic tone, almost casually.
Cu Chulainn stared at her, long and hard. Then, his lips broke into a wide, wild grin. "Keh! Fine, then. You've got some spirit, little miss. I like your resolve."
The black-haired girl smirked a little. She shared a nod with Gray on her left before turning back to focus once agin.
"Let's do this."
With a mental command and a couple of hushed spells, the Magical Seals on the door dissolved into thin air like nothing.
And then, Rin opened the cell.
A dark, small, and barely lit room welcomed their vision, along with the echo of an amused laugh coming from the back of the cell.
"Well, well, well. It seems you guys finally decided to come and get me. You should already know that no prison can hold me for too long."
Rin was not intimidated by the sly and sarcastic tone of the imprisoned Servant. She stepped inside, flanked by Lancer and Gray, and stared back at the smirking figure with a solemn and decisive expression.
"Get ready to depart. We've got a problem to deal with. And we need your help."
The Servant lifted himself off the ground with an amused sigh. Then, a second chuckle escaped his lips as he dusted off his elegant clothes with one hand.
Rin narrowed her eyes. Gray swallowed nervously. Cu Chulainn stared at the other Servant with a blank and disinterested gaze.
And the new Archer of the Clock Tower stepped into the light with a sly, excited smirk on his lips.
"Very well, mademoiselle. What will you have your dear Napoleon do?"
Planet: Earth
Date: June 3 2020
Location: Jerry Thomas Speakeasy Bar – Vicolo Cellini (Rome - Italy)
(======)
Shirou sighed for what had to be the tenth time in half an hour.
Now dressed in his modern clothes, he sat alone at a lonely table in front of a bar located in the far-off side of a wide street in the middle of Rome, sipping a glass of red whiskey. Around him, the Eternal City seemed quieter than usual, although the noise of the horns and cars passing through the roads was clearly audible in the air. It was late in the night, the sun had set more than four ago hours now, and the sky was starting to reveal a lot of stars despite the ever-present lights of the capital. And between the shouting of passers-by, the lights, and the warm air of early summer, the atmosphere around him seemed almost surreal and relaxing.
But for the God of War, that didn't matter right now. He didn't even notice it, actually.
Because right now, Shirou Emiya was not in a clear state of mind. A myriad of conflicting emotions were storming through his head. They were storming through his mind, his heart, as he sat and drank in solitude and silence. Overwhelming emotions such as anguish, pain, shame; along with others such as remorse, rage, and sadness. But there were others as well. Emotions too hard, too confused and overwhelming that were impossible to describe or even to count at all. An indescribable wave of emotions that assailed him ever since he'd left the group. No, ever since he'd heard and seen those news with the others in Vatican City. And despite his desperate attempts, the unknown God – whose legend was now finally known, even if not completely – found himself unable to hold back the immense pain that was overwhelming his heart and mind. The more he thought about what he'd descovered a few hours ago, the more he felt like shit.
Shirou gritted his teeth, desperately trying to ignore the dark voices that were still whispering in his ears.
The words of the previous discussion with Caren Hortensia and the others echoed inside his head once again, like an incessant echo. An echo that never stopped attacking him, crushing him, insulting him; reminding him yet again of his past, his foolishness, his sins. Of what he had done, and more importantly…
…of what he had become.
A monster. A threat. A calamity. The greatest calamity that has ever existed on Earth.
It was true.
The one who rebelled against the Gods. The first man who decided to go against the hegemony and dominion of the Deities who ruled the world during the Age of Gods. A merciless and bloodthirsty warrior, who defeated the Gods on his own. He hunted them. Killed them. Slaughtered them. Forced them to flee and cover in fear, and banished the ones remaining far away from humanity. He literally destroyed their kingdom and effectively put an end to their role in history for good.
It was true.
He was a ruthless and cruel beast, driven to fight solely by his thirst for power and blood. A monster who massacred and slaughtered countless lives just for the sake of his quest for power, without restraint or repentance. He was exactly like the Gods he hated so much: cruel, sadistic, and oppressive. A God of War, through and through.
It was all true.
And he had no way to deny it.
Of course, what he did, he did for himself.
He was no Hero.
Shirou swallowed, feeling a heavy bitterness on his tongue, and it came not from the whiskey.
If he had to be honest with himself… it had been hard. It had been extremely hard. Hearing those things, hearing his friends and allies talking about what he had been – about what he still was, as much as he hated to admit it – had been a bitter pill to swallow. It had hurt. It had hurt him, deep down. He had hurt him far more than he had expected, causing him to experience a new kind of pain. A pain of the soul that now had left him dull and empty, as if all his energies had been mysteriously drained for no apparent reason.
It had hurt. And not because those words had been spoken by his own companions. Nor was it because Iskandar, Artoria, and the rest of his friends had confirmed them right in front of him. As painful as that had been – and it had been immensely painful – that wasn't what had hurt him the most.
No… the real reason those words hurt was because he had no way of denying them.
After all, as much as he hated to admit it, as much as he had tried to change, as much as he had been desperately trying to escape this truth for more than four thousand years... everything that had been said about Tyr was true. Every detail, every atrocity, every insult. Every single thing about him.
It was all true. And Shirou hated himself for it.
He couldn't deny it. The words that Caren had said about his legend, about his dark past and deeds… they were true. All of them, true to the bone, from first to last. It was undeniable, indisputable, unexceptionable. He HAD been a monster. He HAD been a beast. He HAD been a cruel, bloodthirsty, ruthless warrior lacking any demeanor. He had been every single thing that Caren, Iskandar and the others had said just before. And all of this was undeniable. It was the truth. The pure, cruel, inevitable truth. A truth he had tried to escape from for centuries, for millennia; but which in the end had reached him again in one way or another. A truth from which, no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to escape.
He had been a monster. Perhaps he still was, deep inside.
Despite his best attempts to change and forget everything.
Because no matter how hard he tried to change, to improve, to escape; there was simply no way to forget and erase what he had done. Tyr had slaughtered and killed without restraint. Tyr had been a ruthless and cruel monster. Tyr had been a bloodthirsty beast who lusted for power. He was no Hero. He had never been a Hero. All he did, all he had done, it hadn't been for the greater good. It hadn't been for a better future. It hadn't been for the sake of the human race.
No. All he had done in the past, he had done it for himself.
It had all been for his twisted, selfish desire: to quell his anger and achieve his revenge against the Gods. That's how it was. For his vengeance. For his lust for power. For his hunger for battle. For his endless, insatiable bloodlust. That was the truth. That was the true, real reason behind his actions, behind his previous quest, behind his War against the Gods.
Freeing humanity was just an excuse. A pretext. A sweet lie behind which he had subconsciously masked his real intentions. Because back then, when he was still young and foolish, Tyr had genuinely thought that was his goal. He had sincerely – foolishly – believed that his cause was just, that his actions were justified. He had believed that his hate, his anger, his thirst for revenge were just a means to help the human race and free them from slavery...
But it had been a lie. Tyr had fooled himself. Freeing mankind was just an excuse for him.
In the end, all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed, all he had ever cared about… was only one thing.
Vengeance.
Revenge against the Gods. Revenge against those who rejected him. Revenge against those who had condemned him. And above all, revenge against those who had killed his mother, and who had unjustly taken away the only love he had ever experienced during his cursed, tormented life.
That was what he had fought for. That was what he had trained himself for. It was for this reason that he had ceaselessly traveled, constantly searching for the only thing that could give him the revenge he so fervently craved: power. Unlimited power. Ever-growing power. A power that could allow him to face every opponent, every challege, every danger. The power to face the Gods... and kill them to avenge his family and the shame he had suffered. All of that, to get his coveted, desperate revenge.
Yes. Revenge. Everything he had done, he had done for the sake of revenge.
And as much as he tried to deny it, this was the one and only reality of the facts.
What was the proof, you ask?
That was easy: his final treatment. Mankind had always known this, after all. And for this very same reason, they decided to abandon him in the end.
That, was the truth. That, was the proof.
Tyr had been a God of War, and the God of War had been a ruthless beast who only ever cared for power and revenge. He had been a Monster. He still was a Monster. And he would always be nothing but a Monster. That was how things were. That was the truth.
For that was his curse.
Tyr is a Monster. He would always be a Monster.
And Shirou Emiya is Tyr.
He will never escape from his past. From his failures. From his sins. No matter how much time will pass, no matter how long he'll keep struggling, no matter what kind of life he'll choose to live... this one, simple truth he will never be able to escape: he cannot change.
Shirou Emiya would always be a Monster.
And he was hopeless to stop this curse.
Shirou felt his eyes starting to sting once again.
With a weary sigh, he banished those dark thoughts away from his mind. But it was useless. No matter how hard he tried not to think about it, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself in a thousand different ways, it was impossible to get rid of the pain. There was no way to forget. There was simply no way. This was his truth, his curse; and he would have to live with it forever and ever, until the end of time.
And when he realized this for the umpteenth time, as he took the last sip of his drink, his mother's words echoed once again inside his mind.
"Shirou, my child... don't be like them. Don't become like them. Despite what everyone says, you're not different from me, from us. So, please, don't use your powers for evil like the Gods do. Use them to bring peace instead. You alone can decide what you are."
He almost laughed bitterly at the reminder. Irisviel had been wrong about him. As much as he hated to admit it, that was the truth. His adoptive mother had been wrong from the very start. Her hope had never had a chance to be, for in the end… Shirou had failed to run away from his own nature, from what he was. And what he was is... is...
He shook his head with a soft growl. He knew this. He already knew this. He knew extremely well. He had spent millennia trying to overcome all of this.
And yet, he had failed. He had failed in all fronts. He had failed to protect those in front of him, failed to escape from the monster inside, and in the end… he even betrayed his mother's last hope.
"You've become... the very same thing... that took our lives."
He had become exactly like the Gods.
It was for this reason that humanity had turned their back on him at the end of the war. It had been no wonder, actually, and it had been his fault entirely. Back then, he had been too foolish, too stupid. Too clouded by rage and thirst for vengeance to realize what he was losing in trying to become stronger, more efficient, more perfect. So, the result had been inevitable, and he had no one else to blame but himself. It was exactly for this reason that he couldn't blame the human race for how they had treated him, even to this day. They had no fault, after all. He and he alone was the one to blame.
After all, it was true. It was undeniable. Even without the Gods, even after having satiated his anger and obtained his revenge, he had failed to see and realize his mistakes until the very end. And when he did, it had been too late already. He had already become something else entirely. Something that the humans would never, and could never, accept. And despite his evident loyalty, despite the obvious way he cared and longed for mankind's development and affection... they couldn't accept him anymore. It was already too late.
Therefore, in the end, exactly like at the beginning of his life, he had ended up finding himself alone in a world where he didn't belong. In a world he didn't and would never be a part of again.
And it was all… his… fault.
The God of War buried his face in his hands with a long, ragged breath.
That was how they found him.
"…Damn. He really looks like shit."
Shirou perked up, his expression blank but his lips curved into a small, little smile devoid of emotions. Iskandar and Mordred stared right back at him, the former with his arms crossed and a deep frown of concern, and the latter with a bored look and her hands inside the pockets of her red leather jacket. The two Servants walked over to the small table he was sitting at just outside the bar, eyeing him carefully as he sighed and closed his eyes after offering them a small nod.
There were no exchanges of words. Sheer silence greeted them for a long while. Until, slowly and tentatively, the King of Conquerors finally sat down beside him. Mordred did the same, joining the other side of the table, to Shirou's left. "Boy, are you alright?" he asked him seriously, his brows still knit together in concern and thought.
A second sigh teared itself away from the red-haired Ruler.'s lips. "...I'm fine," he replied. Then, he sighed a third time. "You guys didn't need to come looking for me. I was going to be back shortly. Honest."
Mordred eyed him warily. "We were just curious. You left in a hurry. That was uncharacteristically weird coming from you. Even that psycho priestess fell silent after what you did to her."
Shirou smiled bitterly. "…I suppose it was," he admitted slowly. "I just needed some time to think and clear my head a bit. I… overreacted, during that talk. I'm sorry if I made you guys worry."
"Hmm. Indeed. Our fellow Saber here was deeply worried about you," Iskandar acknowledged with his eyes closed and a slow nod of the head. His lips parted into a sly smirk when he glanced at them with one eye and saw Shirou's head perk up in confusion while Mordred blushed madly in embarrassment. "She wasted no time after realizing you were troubled by something. She even said something about helping her 'friend'... and made me rush after her in search for you."
She spluttered visibly in shame, both her face and neck glowing crimson. "H-H-Huuh!? The heck are you saying!? I never said anything like that, you stupid muscle-head!" she denied fiercely, glaring daggers at the Rider's amused expression.
The old God stared at her for a few moments in silent stupor, feeling sincerely touched by that revelation in spite of his current depression. He had no idea Mordred would really end up being worried for him. She was a strong girl, after all. A hothead. A proud and a fearless Knight who didn't hesitate to kill, swear and speak her mind all the time. To actually hear – and see, given the way she was blushing and frantically trying to deny that statement like a stubborn child – that she was genuinely concerned about him and even considered him a friend was... strangely good to hear. It was pleasant, heartwarming, and it actually made him feel a bit better.
Despite his inner turmoil, Shirou offered the most sincere smile he could muster to her. "…Thank you, kid," he said sincerely. He didn't move his hand to ruffle her hair this time, but the girl stiffened and stared at him with wide eyes all the same. "I appreciate your concern. And I'm sorry I made you worry."
Mordred flinched a little. She tried to deny that statement again, but a single glance to the man's face was enough for her to see the honesty in his gaze, the sincerity behind his words, with even a hint of dedication in his golden-brown eyes. And after that realization, the rebellious Knight turned away and hid her eyes with a childish pout. "Tch. Whatever. Just… don't ever do it again," she grumbled under her breath, the blush still clearly visible on her cheeks. Her current behaviour was a stark contrast to her usual demeanor.
Iskandar burst into a bellowing laugh. Even Shirou almost laughed at her face. Almost. "I'll try. I promise."
The poor girl's face couldn't get more red than that.
The three fell into a contemplative silence after those words. A waiter came to take their orders at that moment, and in less than a minute, the three companions were surrounded by alcohol once again. Iskandar had taken a large mug of ale at least twice the size of an adult human skull, Mordred had opted for a glass of wine, and Shirou ordered a second glass of whiskey.
This last detail caught the attention of Mordred and Iskandar. The two Servants watched carefully as Shirou took a sip of his drink. That gesture alone was something they couldn't dismiss casually. After all, after all this time they had spent traveling and staying close with him, they knew it. Shirou was NOT fond of alcohol. He didn't like it, for some strange reason, and both Iskandar and Mordred already knew this by now. Therefore, the fact that he was now drinking whiskey on his own was something not to be underestimated. This fact alone spoke volumes about his inner turmoil. It was clear that red-haired Ruler wasn't fine right now. He wasn't fine at all.
So, after a while, Iskandar took a long sip of beer, before eyeing the Ruler with a serious gaze and asking that fateful question. "Boy, are you going to tell us what troubles you or not?"
Shirou tightened his fingers around his glass. His shoulders stiffened imperceptibly. "It's nothing," he lied after a couple of seconds of silence. "It's just... I guess I wasn't prepared to deal with what we just learned. What Lord-El Melloi II and his allies said… it took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it."
"So even the mighty Ruler can be surprised at times. Heh! Good to know," the muscular King joked with a small grin, trying to lift his spirits.
It didn't work. Shirou fell silent again, and his eyes rested on the table without raising up again.
Mordred eyed him sideways. "…was it really such a big deal for you? Learning about this 'Tyr' guy, I mean?"
Neither she nor Iskandar failed to notice the way the red-haired Ruler stiffened upon hearing that name again. His silence was answer enough.
"So you had already heard about his legend. Just like me," the King of Conquerors deduced.
Shirou felt his heart clench paifully inside his chest. Even though he didn't want to lie to his friends, he knew there was no other way now. Revealing his identity was not an option. Such a thing would have jeopardized his entire mission, as well as the integrity and stability of their group. Besides, Gaia had ordered him to keep it secret, and Shirou knew she was right about this. His legend wasn't exactly remembered in a… good way, by the human race. On the contrary, the figure of Tyr was – rightly – considered in a very negative way (perhaps it was even the most negative figure in the entire history of the planet, since he was the First Hero of the human race). To say that Tyr was mankind's most despised Hero would have been an understatement. Perhaps the biggest understatement of the century. The earlier discussion had all but proved this already. There was no way he could simply drop such a bomb. Not like this, and not right now.
Therefore, he had to learn to live with this awareness. And as hypocritical as it was, as painful it was, he had to keep lying to his companions.
So, he continued his facade and nodded wordlessly in response to Iskandar's statement.
"But why did you leave so suddenly, then?" Mordred asked immediately afterwards, voicing the question that still confused her the most. Her green eyes narrowed a little as she watched him and tried to reflect at the same time, her mind deep in thoughts. "Don't tell me that... you're scared of him?"
Shirou's lips curved into a smile devoid of emotions after that question. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I am," he answered softly. And for once, his answer was not a lie.
The Saber and the Rider exchanged a glance. "Why is that?" Iskandar asked.
He hesitated. "...because he was... he was..."
A Monster.
...
'And that Monster was me.'
...
But there was no way for him to say such a thing.
Shirou fell silent again, under the suspicious and inquisitive looks of his companions.
Until, Iskandar sighed heavily. "Listen, boy… I understand. I get that you're troubled by this. I would understand even if you really are scared of this figure. To be honest, I'm not thrilled by this turn of events either. Knowing that in addition to the War we could be dealing with a threat like the God of War himself… even I can't stay unfazed by this."
"No shit. First we had to deal with this messed up War, and now we risk having to deal with a God-like monster as well. That's just great," Mordred agreed with an annoyed scowl.
Shirou flinched, but remained completely still. Although he didn't give it away outwardly, on the inside a small part of him died after hearing his friends call him for what he was: a monster. No matter how much he tried to stay strong and be prepared, hearing that still hurt. It hurt a lot. Even after all this time, this curse was still as painful and oppressive as ever. There was simply no way he could remain unaffected by this, mo matter how much time passed.
And the worst part... was that they were right.
"That's right," he admitted quietely. Iskandar and Mordred glanced back at him once again. "He was… a monster. A true monster. One that even I am scared of."
Iskandar watched him with all the attention in the world. "…From the way you say it, it almost seems like you know more than you let on. Are you perhaps familiar with that legend?"
Shirou nodded wordlessly. He could at least admit that much. There was no point in denying it after all of this. Not anymore.
The King of Conquerors narrowed his gaze on him. Then, he closed his eyes and sighed a little. "I see. Then my suspicions were well founded," he muttered in a low voice, taking another sip of beer.
Shirou stiffened. Even Mordred turned to Iskandar with a raised eyebrow. "Suspicions?" she repeated.
The muscular Rider remained immersed in his thoughts for some time. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he turned to face Shirou again, fixing him with his red eyes filled with a distant, unreadable stare. "Tell me the truth, boy. Are you… related to him in any way? To the God of War Tyr?"
The God's heart froze completely. Every second felt like a blow to his heart. His chest was physically hurting right now.
Mordred glared at the King of Conquerors with wide eyes full of disbelief. "What the fuck are you saying, Rider? Are you nuts!?" she hissed vehemently. Her voice was full of irritation and shock at the same time. "There's no way that can be true!"
"He never spoke about his past," the Macedonian Emperor promptly countered. His face was calm, collected, and his eyes always focused on the pale, stiff face of the red-haired Ruler. "And no matter how many times we asked him, he never revealed anything about his legend. He's hiding something, and I've always suspected it. But I'm just voicing my perplexity. It's not like I'm accusing him of some sort of crime."
And he was right. As Iskandar spoke, there was no trace of accusation in his tone, no hint of hostility in his voice and face. He was merely stating a fact, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And, as absurd as it was, he was right. Shirou had never talked about himself, his legend, and his past with anyone. Not even with those two, his first companions and the people who currently were the most connected to him. Sure, he'd revealed some information over the past few weeks every now and then, but that had been it. Nobody really knew who he was. So, as much as he was afraid to admit it, Iskandar's suspicions were well founded. They were legit. And even Mordred knew it, deep inside.
But still, Shirou wouldn't let himself be caught unprepared.
He raised his head, staring back at Iskandar with a gaze that was cold, and frosty, and sharp as a blade.
"No."
Mordred and Iskandar stared at him intently.
"I'm not related to Tyr," he spoke again, his eyes hardening in a very, very dangerous way. 'Not anymore,' he added mentally.
And he wasn't lying. In a way, he wasn't lying with that statement. Shirou had long since cut all the ties with his past, with his former identity. With his previous Role. He had promised and sworn to himself to move on. To leave his cursed past behind and start over again. He had admitted his sins, his faults, his mistakes; and he had paid the consequences. So much so that, at the end of his life, he had chosen to commit suicide. But now, now he had chosen to start over. He had chosen to live as a man, and never go back to what he had been. What he still was, deep inside; even after all these centuries and millennia in which he had tried to improve himself and live peacefully.
Because he was not going back to that hell. He had chose to not think about it ever again. He was determined to move forward and start anew. He would not return to be the God of War again. Never. Never again.
He had decided to put the past behind him a long time ago. He had decided to start anew.
But had he really succeeded?
The King of Conquerors held his gaze for a few seconds. His eyes studied him with seriousness and attention for a time that seemed to stretch eternally. Shirou didn't back down from that staring contest, however, challeging head-on the mighty, powerful gaze of the Rider without any trace of hesitation. A feat that was by no means easy. Iskandar was a strong Servant. He was Alexander the Great, the King of Conquerors himself. One of the most famous Servants in the world – and, consequently, one of the most powerful as well. Challenging such an imposing figure in any sort of way was no easy feat for a man.
But Shirou was no mere man, unfortunately.
All the while, Mordred's gaze frantically moved between Rider and Ruler, trying to remain calm and understand what was going though their heads.
But then, in the end, Iskandar relented with a sigh and a small nod of the head.
"Hmm. I suppose you're right," he admitted with a sigh. He offered an apologetic smile to the other red-head. "I shouldn't be suspicious after everything we've been through together. Sorry I doubted you, boy."
Just like that, the tension between them dissolved like smoke. Shirou's face softened as well. "...it's fine, King of Conquerors. It's not like I don't understand where you're coming from. I am a secretive person, after all. Talking about myself is not something I enjoy," he admitted in turn with a wry smile. His shame was only growing inside right now.
Mordred scoffed. Even she visibly relaxed now that the waters had calmed down. "I can't believe you really suggested something like this, Rider. To actually compare Ruler to a freak-ass Demi-God who lusted for death... even I'm not that tactless."
Said freak-ass Demi-God flinched slightly. His companions did not notice though, luckily for him.
The tall Servant gave a guttural chuckle with a small blush. "Bwahaha! Come now, don't dwell on it, Saber. I apologized already," he justified himself as he scratched his neck with one hand.
"As long as this is settled for good, I don't care," she sighed again, shaking her head in disbelief. "He may be weird, but Ruler is... well, he's fine. He's a good guy. Aren't you, Ruler?"
Another flinch.
Iskandar smirked a little. "Heh. Can't deny you on that, Saber. Perhaps… I may have exaggerated a little bit. I admit it."
A pang of pain went through Shirou's heart.
Mordred scoffed. "Damn right you did. Yeah, he can be scary sometimes since he's overpowered because of his Class, but I highly doubt he's a cruel monster like that so-called God."
Another pang. Stronger. Harder to ignore.
"I agree. He is monstrously strong, though," the King of Conquerors joked ironically, offering an amused grin to the boy with a wink. "And besides… there's no harm done. Everyone has their secrets at the end of the day. Something they don't want other people to know. Even I do have a few secrets of my own! So, I apologize, boy. Truly. I shouldn't have pried about this."
Shirou's heart clenched. Literally clenched in pain. His smile grew more strained.
If only they knew…
And there, for a second, just for a split, interminabile second… Shirou felt something crack inside of him. Something dark. Something deep. Something that filled him with shame, and regret, and sadness; like never before. Something so cold and oppressive that not even the relaxed and smiling faces of his 'companions', his 'friends', was enough to dull this pain inside his heart.
And in that moment, not for the first time, Shirou Emiya truly considered revealing the truth to his companions.
He considered the idea of telling everything. To reveal everything, once and for all. To spill the beans and get that weight off from his conscience. He did. He really did. He considered it seriously, for several seconds, with his shame growing inside his gaze and his heart hammering inside his chest. Because he was suffering right now. He was feeling ashamed. He was ashamed of lying to his companions. To his comrades. To the people that were supposed to be his friends. No matter how much he tried to suppress it, no matter how calm and stony-faced he could appear on the outside… on the inside, he was dying little by little with every word, every lie, and every second of his farce.
After all, lying wasn't something he enjoyed to do. It wasn't part of his nature, at all. And it was wrong. Even he knew it, for God's sake. And this pain, this shame he felt inside was starting to become more and more overwhelming as time passed. Tyr had been a God, but Shirou… Shirou was a man. He had chosen to live as a man, to feel like a man, to be a man.
And in the end, there was just so much pain and shame a man could bear.
In the end, there was no way for him to grow completely accostumed to his lies, to his shameful act. Even if said act was in the name of the greater good. And the little voice inside of him showed no sign of giving up. It had no intentions of leaving him alone. The little voice inside his heart and mind that whispered to him every day, every hour, every minute to end this farce and be honest with the others. And after all that had happened, after hearing all those things and realizing the words of his friends... Shirou Emiya was really temped to listen to it.
And so, for the first time since meeting his companions, the God of War nearly broke his mask.
Shirou swallowed. His mouth twitched, his lips trembled. They quivered, then pursed together, and then trembled again. And after a long while of silence, they parted once more…
…and then closed again.
He didn't. He didn't say it. He wasn't able to say it. He wasn't able to do it. And he hated himself for this.
Because in the end, no matter how much it was wrong and how much it was making him suffer... he couldn't afford to be honest with them.
Not just because he wanted to remain friends with them. Not just because Gaia had imposed this rule on him. Not just because that revelation could have generated chaos, pain, and destruction within the group.
But also because, above everyone and everything... he was afraid.
Shirou Emiya, the First Hero of Humanity and the man who single-handedly defeated the Gods and their millennial reign, was afraid. He was scared. He was scared of revealing his identity to his friends.
And that was the real reason why he remained silent.
After all, how could he tell them such a thing? How could he reveal such news and expect things to remain as they were now? It wasn't like he could just step forward and say: 'Hey guys! Actually, my real name is Tyr. That's right, the same guy we just spoke of! Remember the guy who slaughtered an entire race and lost everything in his quest for blood and power and revenge? That monster? Yep, that's me!'
…yeah. No way. There was no way in hell.
Such a thing would only have done more harm than good. It would have sown panic among the group. It would have undermined Iskandar and Mordred's trust in him, forever. And, more importantly, it could have put them in danger: Mordred, Iskandar, and even Artoria and the others. It could have made his companions targets for his enemies. Exploit them in order to reach him in case the news of his presence on the world had been made public. And even if that wasn't the case, it could make them take risky actions and decisions. Undermining his whole mission. Attracting hostility from Lord El-Melloi II, Olga Marie and Caren Hortansia. Disrupting and threatening everything he was desperately trying to fix… and so on.
There were so many reason behind this matter… and so little time to think it through.
But in the end, Shirou knew he did the most logical choice.
It was for the good of everyone. It was better for him – and for them, especially – if they didn't know. Mordred and Iskandar had no reason to distrust him. Of course, after all they had seen and experienced about him and his powers, it was normal for them to be suspicious. But they had no concrete reason to actually doubt him and his identity. Not without valid proof, and especially not after having been faithfully by his side during all their latest adventures. So, it was best to keep things this way. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
And yet… why didn't that make him feel better?
In the end, just like before, he had no other choice but to suck it up and deal with the consequences of his actions.
And once again, Shirou hated himself immensely for it.
But then, all of a sudden, a large, roughed hand suddenly landed on his shoulder.
Shirou blinked, rousing himself from his trance and staring with a blank expression to Iskandar's grinning face. "Listen, boy: there's no need for you to be scared," the tall Servant told him at that point, making Shirou stare at him with confusion after those words. Even Mordred was smirking right now as she stared at him. "Whatever it is what we're dealing with, we'll go through it together. There's no need for you to be so worried. After all, you've decided to embark on a quest with the great King of Conquerors and the strongest Knight of Camelot! We've decided to see the end of this conflict, have we not? Therefore, whaterver threats we'll have to face, we'll face them together! You weren't seriously considering to face this problem on your own, were you?"
The God of War blinked again at Iskandar's and Mordred's smiling faces. There was no trace of hesitation in their eyes. No trace of uncertainty or fear whatsoever, just like all the times before. They really believed they could - and would - face this mess together once again. And when Shirou realized this, something warm started to swell inside his chest for some reason.
And just like that, for no real reason whatsoever, the worries and doubts inside of Shirou's mind subsided a little; almost by magic.
"...do you really mean that?" he asked them quietely, still dwelling on the doubts and uncertainties that plagued his mind.
In response, Iskandar grinned and gave him a strong pat on the shoulder. Shirou nearly spilled his whiskey under the force of the blow. "After all the places we've explored and the battles we've seen together, what are you saying? Up until now, have you not faced the same problems, the same enemies as we have? I thought you knew better than everyone: we're comrades, are we not?" His expression softened, watching both Shirou and Mordred with a warm smile. "So banish those feelings of fear, boy. We're in this together. Therefore, we will deal with this War and the threat of Tyr together, as equals. That's what comrades should do. A true quest of Conquest is no fun without a few challenges, after all."
Shirou stared at them, his mind filled with emotions and warm feelings. Even Mordred smiled a bit, staring at her wine with a little blush.
In the end, there was only one thing he could say.
"Thanks, guys," Shirou said sincerely, making a smile - a real smile - for the first time after what had seemed like hours of uncertainty and doubt. "I... I'm glad I met you. I'm glad to have you guys with me. I really am."
Both Iskandar and Mordred beamed at his words. They were happy to finally see him return to a better mood after all that brooding.
Then, the female Knight slapped the red-haired Ruler's shoulder with a grin. "Heh! So you can be grateful when you want. That's nice to hear."
Shirou blinked again. He stared at the blonde girl with wide eyes for a few seconds. "I'm surprised."
"What?"
"You're being considerate. You're actually trying to be nice for once."
"Fuck you," Mordred blushed fiercely. She took another sip of her drink, her smile now replaced by an embarrassed frown. "Ugh! Fuck me. I just… I wanted to repay the favor. For what you did to me when I was sad. T-That's it," she grumbled at the end, looking down at the table and mumbling slightly in embarrassment. Shirou and Iskandar shared a smirk at the scene. She was obviously not used to being nice to others. Not used to it in the slightest. Showing her true emotions was difficult for her, especially because she had been raised as a man and she had lived in a time where she had been forced to hide everything about her, even her own gender and true feelings.
And this only served to increase Shirou's gratitude towards the female Knight.
Then, suddenly, the girl quickly turned serious.
"But do you guys really believe what they said?" Mordred asked them suddenly, out of the blue. Both Shirou and Iskandar turned to her with raised eyebrows, and they remained surprised to see the expression of the blonde girl locked in a frown. She really was in deep thoughts right now. "The thief at the Archives, the missing Artifact… do you really believe all of that crap happened to summon this so-called God of War? I just… I feel something fishy about this."
Her question was met with silence.
Shirou banished his inner turmoil, his mind returning to focus on the other topic that had plagued his thoughts for a while now. And indeed, Mordred was right for once. There was something strange about this whole thing. The fact that a Servant had literally stolen every single artifact related to his past and his legend – along with a freaking fragment of the Rock from the Ritual, moreover – was something that couldn't be ignored for any reason. Even more so because Shirou himself was the one at risk of being discovered here. He could not allow a Servant to use his legend and its related artifacts for some nefarious purpose. Such a thing was unacceptable. Inadmissible. It was simply too much to bear.
The Ruler's fists clenched tightly around his glass. This made no sense. As far as he knew, his legend was almost completely forgotten today. It was not a famous legend like that of King Arthur, or that of Alexander the Great. It HAD been famous, once, when myths and legends were still part of mankind's traditions and mentality (as in the case of Iskandar and, in a minor way, even Artoria). But that was not the case now. Not anymore. As Caren Hortensia and Lord El-Melloi II had previously confirmed, those who knew and remembered Tyr's story in modern times were few. Therefore, the fact that a Servant had intentionally stolen the only artifacts related to that story was not something he could overlook. It was evident that this was no coincidence.
However, one thing was certain: whoever the thief was and whatever their goal was, it was obvious that they knew about Tyr and his history. Just like the Counter Guardian he met in France.
And this was a threat that Shirou could not underestimate.
But if he had to be honest with himself, he had no idea of what to do to fix this mess. He didn't even have a clue of what was going on, actually. He hadn't expected to face such a situation, such an event. Therefore, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. For the first time – perhaps for the first time since he had been summoned back on the Real Side of the World – Shirou Emiya had no idea of what to do to solve this mess. And how could he, without having any clue about the thief and their intent?
Summoning Tyr as a Servant was not possible. Shirou was sure – extremely sure – of this. There was no question to it. He was alive, he was here, and for this reason alone there was no way someone could use the Stone to actually summon him. As long as he was alive, he could never become a Servant. If such a thing had been possible, Gaia and Alaya would have warned him centuries ago (or, more likely, they would have forced him to join the Counter Force). So, at least, the Artifact was useless on that regard. And while that wasn't enough to allay his anxiety, it was still a little gust of relief in the middle of that sea made of problems and uncertainties.
But what if it had another purpose? What if the thief wanted to use the Stone for another reason entirely?
If the thief knew his story, then in all likelihood they must also have known that he was still alive. The Counter Guardian did know of him and his life in the Other Side of the World, after all. Therefore, the disappearance of the Stone had to have another reason, another purpose behind it beside the option of summoning him as a Servant.
But what?
He didn't know. And whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
That, he could not allow. Whatever that purpose was, Shirou knew it couldn't be anything good. He knew this. He could feel it. And his instinct was rarely wrong. Therefore, he had to do something to stop it. Servant, Counter Guardian, human... whoever the one who had stolen the Artifact and the records was, it had to be stopped at any cost.
What a fucking mess, indeed.
Iskandar's deep humming roused him from his thoughts. "It could be a possibility," the King of Conquerors mused out loud, answering to Mordred's question after his own pondering. "Tyr was an ancient figure, no doubt, but his legend was still remembered in my time, and some people know of it even now. Therefore, even if he was nothing but a living monster, he could technically be considered a Hero. Therefore, he could also be recorded in the Throne..."
"…and be summoned as a Servant," Mordred finished for him.
Shirou almost scoffed. Almost. 'Sorry to disappoint, but that never happened. It's not possible. Luckly for me.'
But there was no way he could say this out loud, was it?
"We'll just have to discover the truth on our own," he then decided to say in the end, speaking after a long period of silence and reflection. His companions turned to him as he sighed and tried to regain his composure. "I don't know if this Tyr can really be summoned or not, but trying to puzzle over something uncertain is useless and counterproductive. We must first discover more informations and clues to formulate a concrete hypothesis."
Mordred and Iskandar looked at him. Then, slowly, they nodded in agreement.
"I concur," the King of Conquerors agreed. "Then we have no choice. We must return to the others and find out more about our next mission."
Shirou blinked in confusion. "Mission?" he repeated.
Mordred nodded with a bored expression. "After you left, that sulky-faced Magus said he received some information from the Church. He said something about a person who might know who the thief is. They have a lead, apparently."
That news served him well. Shirou inwardly cheered. He narrowed his eyes and strengthened his resolve.
He started to get up from his chair. "Then let's head back. I've cleared my mind already. It's time to finally learn why we were brought here."
"…Wait," Mordred stopped him all of a sudden. The Ruler paused as he was about to stand up from the small table, glancing at her with a confused expression. Even Iskandar was staring at the girl with a raised brow. "I– Ugh! Let's just... stay here for a little longer," the female Knight muttered with a frowning face, her expression more conflicted than before. "I just... don't want to see my Father yet."
Shirou blinked after seeing her afflicted face and the hesitation in her green eyes. He was completely lost. "Your Father?" he repeated. "Why? What happened?"
Mordred looked down, turning away from him with a scowl.
Iskandar sighed. "Shortly after you left, the King of Knights and our Saber here had a little 'dispute'," he decided to explain with his deep voice. "Let's just say that they didn't part in a good way."
Shirou's expression became serious instantly after hearing that. He turned to Mordred once again, observing her with all the attention in the world.
"What happened?"
And so, not without hesitation, Mordred recounted what had happened with Artoria shortly before, including their little 'discussion'... and the unexpected challenge to a duel.
And when the girl had begrudgingly finished telling all of it, Shirou ran a hand over his face while Iskandar remained impassive as ever. Mordred chose to occupy herself emptying her second glass of wine.
"...are you kidding me?" the red-haired Ruler finally muttered after a while, looking both tired and amused by what he had just learned. "Good grief. Kid, couldn't you actually try to stay out of troubles for once?"
"S-Shut up! He's the one who challenged me! I would have minded my own business if he hadn't been so insistent!"
"You're the one who insulted her for no reason!" the ancient God countered incredulously. Mordred winced and shut her mouth under the Ruler's scolding. "She was trying to be nice! She even apologized again, and you just had to oppose her and say those cruel things to her for such a trivial reason! I just…" he sighed, shook his head, and then ran a hand over his face again. "I can't believe it. This is ridiculous."
The Knight of Treachery scowled and turned away hastily. At least she had the decency to look sad about what she had done.
Iskandar took another casual sip of his beer. When the whole table fell silent, he finally decided to speak. "I must say, though... I was surprised by this outcome," he said seriously, scratching his beard as he assumed a thoughtful expression. "I wouldn't have expected the King of Knights to actually propose a duel. I expected many things from that woman, but not something like this."
Indeed, that was strange. Even Shirou had no idea why Artoria had decided to challenge Mordred so suddenly and without any previous warning. What the hell was going through that woman's head?
'Good grief. I know I told her not to hesitate to do what she wanted, but I wasn't expecting such an outcome,' the Ruler inwardly sighed. 'I swear, those two are exactly alike. Impulsive, troublesome, and stubborn. Why can they never be honest with themselves?'
Shirou eyed the grumbling Mordred with a tired smile. "You just had to oppose her again, huh? Couldn't you just let it slide and ignore her? Why are you always so impulsive whenever your father is involved?"
The girl scowled and turned away, emptying yet another glass of wine. "It's not my fault if he's always pissing me off! He didn't ever deign me of a single glance before, and now he acts like he can't live without getting on my nerves for everything! I'll be sure to make him regret this, just you wait," she hissed with an angry, annoyed tone of voice.
Iskandar and Shirou looked at her with a knowing expression. She really was a kid, wasn't she?
"You really can't be honest with yourself, huh?" the King of Conquerors smirked at her frowining face. "Well I, on my part, am surely looking forward to the duel. This is something that I'm very interested to see. How amusing, indeed..."
"Tch. Wahtever," Mordred muttered with a scowl.
Shirou suppressed a sigh. He'd already been pretty sure this was going to be the inevitable outcome anyway. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. You two just have to fight again and – hopefully – avoid killing each other a second time. Besides, maybe it'll do well for you to let off some steam and clear things up through this duel. You're way better at talking with your fists than with words," he acknowledged with a nod, recalling the many training sessions he had spent with Mordred during their travels through England. Then, his golden-brown eyes stared at her sternly. "But this feud between you and your father needs to end, kid. This story has been going on for far too long. I suggest you use this opportunity to put an end to it once and for all. Are we clear?"
Mordred glared at him, but eventually relented when she saw the fire raging inside his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, dad."
Shirou sighed at the rebuke, his right brow twitching slightly in irritation.
Iskandar let out a loud laugh, shaking his head and setting his empty mug on the table. "Well then, let's go back now. We've wasted far too much time here."
"I don't want to go back," Mordred waved her arm, then swung up into a sitting position on the chair when she realized her third glass of wine was empty as well. "I want another drink."
She tried to signal to the bartender, but Shirou stopped her just before she could order more alcohol.
"Water," he ordered instead, sighing a little when he saw her glaring at him with a frown. "Trust me, kid. You'll feel better. You'll hate yourself very soon if you don't get some other liquids in you."
"That 's fine, I hate myself already, and so does Father and everybody else, anyway," Mordred smirked, only to immediately yelp in pain when the Ruler landed a solid punch on her head for her words. She hissed and started to rub her new bump with a teary glare, muttering and grumbling to herself with an enraged face.
"Don't ever say such a thing again," Shirou reprimanded her with a blank expression and a condescending tone. "Me and Rider don't hate you, and we never will. So, stop making a fuss over everything and start taking some responsibility for once. I know you can be better than this, Mordred."
The Knight of Rebellion glared fiercely at him. But then, when the pain on her head started to fade and her mind slowly began to calm down; her expression crumbled, and Mordred felt the full weight of her actions begin to land heavily on her shoulders. She stared at her fists, her face a mixture of a scowl and a pained grimance. Too much had happened for the wild Knight in the last few hours, and far too little time to process it. Therefore, she had no idea of what to do and how to behave now.
Even worse, she had snapped at her father for nothing. Again. She had messed up everything with her. Again. She had clearly exaggerated, said a lot of horrible things that weren't true and that even she didn't really think about her father. Again. And now… now, because of this, Artoria had finally had enough.
And when she fully realized this, Mordred leaned on the table and buried her head in her arms with shame.
Iskandar and Shirou looked at her with worried looks. Strange as it seemed, it pained them to see that girl being so confused and uncertain about everything that rounded on Artoria. Despite her usual confidence, Mordred was completely unable to keep her cool and stay put when Artoria was around. Indeed, she was such a confusing case. The Knight of Treachery who caused the fall of Camelot: fierce and overconfident; and yet… so candid and vulnerable whenever her Father was involved.
And to see her in such state, it was rather painful for both of them.
Shirou sighed. This day was not a good day. First, he had been depressed and overwhelmed by pain… and now Mordred was suffering too. And this without taking into account the nightmare, the battle with that masked Berserker, the misunderstanding with Romulus and Nero; and above all the whole mess concerning the theft from the Archives, his past, and the possibility that an unknown enemy could actually be trying to summon him or use an Artifact tied to him for some nefarious reason.
Yep. This day had been a complete nightmare.
He could already feel a migraine coming.
Shirou put a hand on Mordred's shoulder. "Come on, kid. Don't be like that. Just like you guys said to me before, you're not alone in this. You won't have to deal with the duel your own," he tried to say, doing his best to comfort her.
"That's right, Saber. Me and Ruler will help you in your quest. We've discussed this before, remember?" Iskandar said as well, nodding with a serious face.
Mordred nodded, still without lifting her head from her arms. "I know," she muttered. "It's just... it's just..."
She fell silent for a while, and when she spoke again, her voice was filled with pain, and frustration, and sadness.
"...no matter how much time passes, I just can't stand the way he treats me."
The Ruler and the Rider exchanged a worried glance.
Mordred raised her head a bit, laughing in self-mockery. "…things are always gonna be the same between me and Father," she continued to say. "We're never gonna be a family. He'll never see me as a son. I know this. I already know this. Maybe I've always known, ever since Camelot. But…" she gritted her teeth, looking and sounding more sad and frustrated than ever. "I can't stand the way he looks at me now. I simply can't. It pisses me off every time, and I hate him so much for what he's done and how he's treated me."
Iskandar sighed gently. "Things don't have to stay like this forever, you know," he began to say. "Before you started lashing out at her, that woman was trying to apologize to you. She had offered you a chance to reconcile. It was you the one who chose not to listen, Saber."
"And how could I ever listen to him!?" she retorted fiercely, snapping her head up and glaring at the Rider's face. "He never cared for me! Screw it, he never even acknowledged me, nor as a son, nor as a Knight! He's just a heartless, cruel beast! If he thinks a few apologies can make me forget what happened, then he's deeply mistaken!"
Shirou stared at her with compassion and understanding. He could clearly see that Mordred didn't really mean all those horrible things she was saying. She was just saying them out of impulse, rage, and pain. She was acting like a child throwing a tantrum, literally… but how could he blame her for that? She WAS a child, after all. Despite being physically older due to the fact that she was a homunculus, Mordred was still an eight years old kid inside. A child who had been raised pretty badly, with no education and self-control, and who didn't know better. She didn't know better, because she never experienced better.
"Kid… we talked about this. I get that you're angry. I understand you resent her. But being like this with your father isn't gonna make things better. It's only going to make you suffer. Again."
Mordred frowned after hearing that, lowering her gaze to the glass in her hands. Her eyes began to water a bit, trembling more than usual.
Shirou put a hand on her head, ruffling her hair fondly. "Please, just… give it a chance. Give her a chance. You can use this duel as an opportunity. You don't need to keep suffering for this feud any longer. And even if things go wrong again… me and Rider are going to be here for you. I promise."
"And so do I," Iskandar nodded as well.
Mordred swallowed the lump in her throat.
The God of War smiled at her with a sympathetic expression. "I understand how you feel, kid. But you're not alone anymore. So, please, stop being so stubborn and try to move on from your wounds."
The Knight of Treachery hesitated for some time. Then, she nodded once. Twice. Then, she nodded a third time.
"Alright," she grumbled again, wiping away the tears that had formed at the corner of her eyes. "I'll try."
Shirou smiled and sighed in relief.
Even Iskandar nodded with approval. "That's the spirit, Saber," he praised her with sincerity. Then, his expression turned pensive all of a sudden. "You know, to be honest, I sympathize with you. I was almost in the same position as you when I was young," he revealed out of the blue.
That caught the attention of the other two. Mordred turned to the King of Conquerors with eyes filled with confusion. "Huh? The heck do you mean?" she asked, completely lost.
Iskandar smirked a little when he saw he had captured the girl's interest. Then, he let out a long breath, and his gaze became distant as he began to observe the landscape of Rome in silence. Something shine inside his red eyes. Something distant and nearly impossible to see for those who didn't possess a keen eye. But Shirou and Mordred did notice. They knew Iskandar all too well, and after all these weeks spent with him, they had learned to notice the various facets of his character, and even the most subtle changes in the boastful King's behavior. So, they noticed it right away.
And so, after a full minute of silence, Iskandar took a deep breath and began to tell.
"My father, King Philip II, was my first role model," he revealed to his companions. Shirou and Mordred – the latter more than the former – listened to his words with rapt interest. "But we never really got along during our lives. According to him, I was too impulsive, too stubborn, and too violent to become his successor. I wasn't suited for the mantle, he used to say. Because of this, we often ended up arguing all the time, almost every day; until he finally decided to divorce from my mother and went to live separatley from us. We parted ways when I was… fourteen, I believe," he mused, putting a hand to his chin as he tried to remember.
Then, he glanced at his comrades with a smirk. "And mind you; when I say 'parted ways', I mean it literally. I went to live with my mother in Greece, and he went to live on the other side of Macedonia. For years. We were so angry at each other that some people said that we even attempted to kill each other in secret. Even if that wasn't true..." he admitted with a strained smile and a bitter chuckle, only to blush slightly in embarrassment when he saw his companions sweat-drop in disbelief at his words.
Then, he coughed and resumed his story once again. "But I simply couldn't help it. Ever since I was a child, I had always seen him campaigning military every year, winning battle after battle, surviving serious injuries, and getting everything he wanted through conquest. It was no surprise, then, that I wanted to be exactly like him. It was seeing his victories and achievements that gave birth to my desire to conquer, to be honest. And to tell the truth... I suppose that my relationship with my father forged the competitive part of my personality as well."
He glanced at Mordred at that point, his eyes flashing with memories of a distant past. "Just like you do now, Saber, I too felt the need to outclass my father. For this reason, I started going to war at a young age, when I was barely seventeen. All of that in order to gain more fame, more experience, and more power on my own. However, due to my unstoppable desire for success, I developed a reckless behavior in battle. My father took notice of that, and I was worried that he wouldn't leave me any great or exceptional feat to exhibit to the world. The fact that he belittled my exploits in front of his retainers only fueled our mutual hostility, in fact."
Shirou and Mordred exchanged an incredulous look.
Iskandar turned even more serious at that point. His expression changed completely. "But then, one day, he was assassined, and I could never talk to him again," he said in a deep voice. His frown softened a little. "And let's face it... after his death, I began to see him in a new light. I began to understand more about him. Although I struggled at first, I learned to admit that he was right about me. I really had traits of violent and careless temper; and an impulsive nature that surely could have influenced some important decisions if I became Emperor. That's why my father had been so harsh on me. All his belittlements, all his scoldings, all his disappointment… they had all been to make me become better. To make me understand my flails in order to overcome them and be a true King like him," he grinned at that point, scratching his cheek with a sheepish expression. "I guess… in his own ways, he still loved me. Just like I still loved him deep inside. Even if we never had a real chance to show it to each other."
Mordred frowned and fell silent after hearing that, her eyes flashing with so many different emotions and thoughts.
Shirou smiled thinly, nodding to the taller Servant to continue. "Then, what did you do after his death?" he asked him.
The King of Conquerors smirked and patted his chest with a fist. "What was expected of me, of course: I began to improve myself," he answered easily with a proud grin. "It wasn't easy, but I committed myself to work on my defects, on my shortcomings. And for those I failed to overcome completely, I still made sure to surround myself with followers and retainers who could help me smooth and face them. And over time, I managed to gain the trust of my people in my own way. But it was thanks to my father's example that I managed to become the King of Conquerors. If it weren't for his example… my story could have gone very differently," he admitted in a deep voice.
After all this, at that point, Rider's red eyes watched Mordred with a hint of fondness. "So you see, Saber… sometimes, the best we can do is to put our pride aside, and try to be better. We must never abandon our pride, we must never forget it. But we must never be blinded by it as well," he told her sincerely.
The Knight of Treachery clenched her fists. Her face was a mask of confused emotions. "That's not the same, Rider," she eventually replied, both her voice and face devoid of her usual confidence. "My Father is not like yours. Back then, he was an emotionless being. He never let anyone close to him. And even if he's changed a little now, it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late already."
Shirou sighed at her stubborness. "At least she's trying, Mordred. Please, don't hold it against her. I know how you feel–"
"I know," Mordred whined once again. "But... it's not the same! You never knew your father, Ruler! Even Rider's father actually acknowledged him in his own way! He pushed him to become better despite the bad blood between them! I, on the other hand, never had that! I never experienced it! Fuck it, I don't even know how it feels to be loved!" she spat with a voice full of pain and frustration. Her tone sounded angry, and sad, and broken all at once.
Shirou looked at her with a look full of compassion after her sudden outburst. Iskandar's eyes softened as well while the female Knight sniffled and struggled to keep her emotions in check.
"I... I just..."
Mordred glared at her glass of water, desperately trying – and failing – to stop the tears from welling in the corner of her eyes.
"Why do I have to have a Father that's... not one?" she whispered in the end. And when she did, her face looked so sad, so desperate, so small... that Shirou couldn't help but feel bad for her. Really, really bad.
Shirou and Iskandar exchanged a sad glance. The first put a hand on her shoulder, while the second gently stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, kid," was all Shirou was able to say. Words didn't feel like they could cover it. This wasn't a problem that was just going to go away, as much as both Ruler and Rider wanted to make it.
"You guys are more of a Father to me than he is," Mordred continued again, voice evening out somewhat as she balled up a trembling fist on the table. "Why do I have to be the bastard son of a King who will never acknowledge me? I… I never asked for this. I've never asked for anything like this!"
'...She probably didn't ask for this either, Mordred,'Shirou whispered in his mind.
But he didn't say it out loud. He couldn't. He didn't want to bring more pain to her and make her suffer further. She didn't deserve this, bacause in spite of everything she had done and caused during her life... Mordred was just a child. A child desperate for her father's acknowledgment and love. A child who didn't know better.
And that was the one and only reason why he couldn't judge her.
Shirou stroked her hair again. Mordred raised her head, looking at him with eyes wide and full of unshed tears.
"Let's go, kid," he said softly at that point, offering her a small smile filled with sympathy. With understanding. "Whatever happens with your father from now on, we'll deal with it together. Me, you, and Rider. We're in this together."
The blonde girl stared at him in silence.
"A King must never be alone," Iskandar agreed as well, offering her a mighty grin and a wink filled with confidence and support. "Even a future King such as yourself. Don't you agree, Saber?"
And then, slowly but surely, Mordred found her smile again.
"...yeah."
She wasn't alone anymore.
And she was never going to be alone again.
Mordred wiped away her tears and shot a challenging glare to the world.
"Let's go."
Planet: Earth
Date: June 4 2020
Location: Vatican Archives – Vatican City (Rome - Italy)
(======)
"Are you really sure you made the right decision?"
Artoria sighed for what had to be the tenth time in half an hour. Her eyebrow was starting to go numb for twitching incessantly after all the prodding by Olga Marie and Lord El-Melloi II. It seemed that those two just couldn't accept her decision, no matter how many times she had tried to explain it to them.
The King of Knights sighed for the eleventh time in a row. "I told you, Mr. Waver: I'm sure. The duel with Mordred is something that I've already decided, and I won't back down from it. This is something that I must do once our mission is over."
Lord-El Melloi II narrowed his eyes, feeling a trickle of sweat dripping from his temple with nervousness. Together with him, everyone present in the room exchanged a nervous glance (apart from Caren, who had remained busy plotting something in silence with a disturbing smile on her lips ever since Ruler had left). And despite the dead silence in the air, the tension in the room was almost physically perceptible. Not that it was surprising, though. Artoria's decision had shocked everyone, after all. Even her own Knights.
"My liege," Bedivere spoke to his King with an obviously worried frown. "I won't judge your decision, but... are you sure this duel is necessary?"
"That's right, my lord! Please, reconsider your decision! There's no need to fight against Mordred again!" Gawain exclaimed vehemently. Of the two of them, he was clearly the most worried about this, given what happened during the last fight between Artoria and Mordred on the Camlann Hill. He didn't want to see history repeat itself again, for no reason in the world.
And yet, Artoria remained perfectly still and composed as ever. "Bedivere, Gawain; please, be at ease. I'm sure of my decision," she declared in a tone that allowed no reply. She then glanced at Olga Marie and Waver Velvet as well. "Besides, I wanted to talk to Mordred from a while, now. There are several things I'd like to settle with her. A lot of unfinished business, too. This duel is the perfect opportunity to do so, as well as the only possible outcome for us," she added in the end.
The Knight of the Sun paled. "B-But-"
"Gawain. I've taken my decision. This is final."
The silence descended once again among the presents.
Until, Romulus sighed with barely veiled impatience. "This is taking too long. Where did those three go?"
"That's right! It's been one hour already!" Nero complained with a bored tone of voice. She was laying back on the table, her arms stretched in front of her as she glared to the world with her cheeks puffed and her eyes narrowed. "I can't stand this anymore! I shall go retrieve those three and command them to return here at once!"
Olga Marie sighed with a tired face. "For once, I agree with Nero. Midnight has already passed by now. We should–"
"There's no need," Arjuna interrupted them at that moment. His black eyes glanced at the door with his usual stoicism. "They're here."
And in fact, as soon as he finished that sentence, the door opened and the three missing Servants entered the room once again.
The reaction was immediate.
"My Praetor!"
Shirou almost grunted when Nero jumped on him like a cat bouncing on its prey. The Roman Empress rushed forward and hugged him like a gigantic pillow, slamming herself on his body and rubbing her face on his chest. "You're back! You're finally back!" she exclaimed with a cheeky voice, almost sounding like a spoiled brat who finally got what she wanted. "I was so booored! And worried too! Do not ever leave me again! Do not even contemplate such idea! I shan't allow you to escape a second time!"
Any normal person would undoubtedly have been baffled by the sudden attitude of the red Saber. However, to his credit, Shirou remained completely impassive to that display, even as he felt his cheeks burn a little with embarrassment and confusion.
Nero didn't seem to mind, though. She just hugged him even more, as if behaving like this with a person she met barely a few hours prior was completely natural to her. "Ufufu! You're waaay softer than you look," she purred all of a sudden, rubbing her cheeks on his muscular chest with a dreamy smile on her lips. "Umu! Umu! Very well! I am content! I shall forgive you just this once!"
This time, Shirou couldn't help but blush a bit. And the shocked looks and outraged stares he was receiving from Mordred and Artoria did nothing to help his current situation. On the contrary, they were really unnerving. He could pratically feel Mordred's eyes burning on his back with scandalized rage, along with the cold, frosty stare that Artoria was sending him from the other side of the room. He almost shivered at that sight. He had never seen such a cold stare before. It was honestly unnerving (and oddly frightening too).
Then, someone had enough. "What the heck are you doing?" Mordred hissed loudly with a bewildered look on her face. "Get off of him before I skin you alive!"
The Empress of Rome complied, but still shot a playful smirk at the Knight of Treachery. "Hoho? What's wrong, my cute Knight? Are you jealous because I haven't given you enough attention? Oh my! How tragic! How shameful of me! I shall correct this mistake at once!"
"W-What!? Get away from me, you crazy Emperor!"
All those present stared at the scene with a deadpan, but wisely chose not to comment this time. The cringe was too much to handle right now.
Shirou merely sighed, ignoring the two girls bickering with each other while Iskandar's thunderous laughter echoed in the room. Instead, he returned serious in an instant, focusing his attention on Caren Hortensia who was now approaching him with an impassive face and a strange glint in her golden eyes.
"So the Ruler came back. You really did take your time, didn't you? We waited more than an hour for you to return. Have you nothing to say, you insolent Servant?" she spoke in her usual monotone, utterly oblivious to her choice of words that was definitely unsuited for a priestess – or for any normal girl, for that matter.
Despite the twitch of his brow and his ever-growing urge to strangle that girl, the God of War kept his cool this time. He didn't want to make a scene like before. Therefore, he simply nodded to the white-haired priestess, glancing to all the others at the same time. "Yes, I do," he said sincerely, bowing his head in front of all of them. "I apologize for what I did before. I just needed to clear my head for a bit. I'm completely fine now," he reassured them.
Olga Marie narrowed her eyes on him. "Are you, really?"
He held her gaze without any difficulty or hesitation. "Yes. I just needed to think and assimilate all the informations. I was a bit… overwhelmed, by what you told me. Let's just say that this sudden outcome just made my role and my duty to defend humanity a lot harder. I hope you can understand."
Artoria nodded with her usual calm face. "We do, Shirou. Please, do not worry about it anymore," she reassured him with a nod.
The red-haired Ruler smiled at her. "Thank you, your Majesty."
Her reaction was interesting. Artoria stiffened and turned away immediately after he gave her his thanks. And Shirou could almost swear he saw a tinge of pink on her cheeks, for some unknown reason. Even Iskandar and Mordred looked a bit baffled right now. Shirou blinked in confusion. That was weird.
Romulus inwardly laughed at the scene with a veiled smile. 'First Nero, and now even the King of Knights. Haha… I was right. That man is none other than Rome!'
Lord El-Melloi II sighed, attracting everyone's attention. "No matter. You're here at last. Let's just get over with this. We've already wasted enough time," he dryly said.
Shirou returned serious in an instant. Even Nero, Romulus, Arjuna and all the others got serious as well.
The ancient God spoke his next words calmly and clearly. "My companions told me that you guys have found a lead," he said in all seriousness. "Is it true? Do you really know who could be behind the theft?"
Caren Hortensia smiled, that strange glint in her eyes growing more and more by the second. "Yes," she answered easily. "Yes, we do."
Shirou narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists in resolve.
"Tell us."
Lord El-Melloi II rose from his seat with a solemn expression. He shared a nod with Olga Marie. "You'd better be prepared to depart again, then," the black-haired Magus told them seriously. "Our next mission is gonna be quite peculiar. Nothing similar to what we're used dealing with. Not even close."
Arjuna, Nero and Romulus hid a little smile.
Artoria, Bedivere and Gawain shared a confused glance.
Shirou, Iskandar and Mordred narrowed their gaze.
"Explain."
Something strange flashed in Waver Velvet's eyes.
"Get ready to depart at dawn. We're going to Venice."
YOU ARE READING
Fate: Opression
AdventureAlaya is gone. The Counter Force is gone. Without them, the Throne of Heroes released all the Heroes on Earth against the planet's will. When Gaia sensed that the World is on the brink of collapse, she sent its First Hero to fix the mess. Now, Shiro...
