Fate/Requiem

Prologue

People have taken to calling me “the Reaper”. Only once have I ever been thanked for my work.

–

This was awful. This had to have been one of the worst nights of my life.

My pursuers had grown in number once again. They were dividing, at an incredible rate. Monsters who lived only to separate humans by component parts; no matter how many I cut down, I couldn’t stem the tide.

The effects of the Body Augmentations I’d equipped to my own body had long faded. The fetish charms of which I’d prepared so many, into which I’d stockpiled so much mana, had all been expended. My heightened eyesight, my improved cardiopulmonary functions and all the rest were now ragged and exhausted, barely at the level of an ordinary human. All that I had left to rely on now was my own flesh and bone, my own blood and guts: the body that I’d somehow managed to keep intact for these fourteen years.

That, and the lessons that had been carved into my heart by a needle of regret.

The Material Barrier that coated every inch of my skin had dwindled to its base parameters. A single solid hit would be enough to blow me to pieces, like a plate dropped on the floor. But I had a strange premonition that all this was only a prelude to what was waiting for me; to what would really make this the worst night of my life.

–

I sprinted through alleyways, drenched in muddy water, covered in unreclaimed garbage. Once, worshippers would take this road to reach Kanda Shrine. I tumbled down one of the narrow, steep sets of stone stairs that split off into innumerable branches. As I did so, I landed a flying kick on the  behinds of the two men ahead of me. The uninvited guests.

“Ugh, we still not at the harbour? My heart’s about to damn well burst, girl! I’m gonna drop dead right here!”

One of the men tilted his neck to look at me.

“You know damn well you aren’t! If you’re gonna live as long as you have, you should try to have the courtesy to scrape together a century or two’s worth of wisdom! Or if you can’t do that, at least just shut up and run!”

“Hey now, hey now! If I’m ever gonna put a sock in it, it’ll be when I go meet the Buddha! You could cut my head off right now and my mouth would still be chatterin’!”

“Like hell it would, because I’d tie it shut myself! With a good metre or two of wire!”

How many dozens of times had he made some dumb immortality gag? It had gone beyond getting on my nerves. He knew better than anyone that he could be carved to pieces or shot full of holes, and it still wouldn’t be enough to kill him. Although, for all that, he was in almost as sorry a state as I was right now.

Even in this day and age, when immortality was hardly a rarity, he was still making me listen to his nonsense. And what was he doing talking about meeting the Buddha anyway, when he was a Jew?

“Just shut up and keep moving!”

“…Understood.” The other man nodded. His partner skidded as he rounded a corner, almost toppling, and he reached out to grab his belt, righting him as naturally as if he were taking hold of a jib sheet.

“Once we reach the docks, they cannot best us.”

His wild black hair and unshaven beard carried the smell of the deep. It was something wholly unlike this town’s artificial landscapes: the scent of real sea breezes and real shafts of sunlight, carved deep into his soul.