guardians-of-chaldea

[guardians-of-chaldea]

A final cry to the stars.

By the time this message is received, its sender will likely be gone from this world.

We want you to know that we were here.

That we stood defiant until the end.

That we raised grand monuments that pierced the flesh of God.

That we were great.

That we were powerful.

That we were here.

The lives we have touched will end without remembering us.

No stories will be passed of what we have achieved.

With the death of our Perennial Starlight comes the death of us all.

So here we cry.

One last time.

That we were here.

We were here.

We were here.

We were here.

We were here.

We were here.

We were here.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

There's no easy way to say this.

I won't get into specifics, but about two days ago, the original owner of this blog attempted to take her own life.

She wanted something posted today. She planned it for weeks. So I'm going to post it.

But after that, it is highly unlikely that either this blog, the Jalter blog, or the personal writing blog will have anything new for the foreseeable future.

I'm sorry.

We, at least on our end, did everything we could.

But it's over.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

A low crack. A soft hiss.

Ritsuka Fujimaru sat on a metaphysical porch, bringing her drink up to her lips. Out in the metaphorical yard, she watched other Masters of Chaldea.

They did not know she was watching them.

They rolled, they rolled, and they rolled some more, all in vain attempts to bring home their favorite characters.

One Master got Musashi twice in a single pull. The others screamed and demanded her luck.

Another spent all he had, but never got Lakshmibai. The rest of them crowded around and offered condolences before he pulled out his credit card and began to roll again.

Yet another Master pulled just a few times, until they got Katō Danzō. They made no scene. No noise escaped their lips. They breathed in deeply, held their new Servant tightly, and led her away from the group without saying a word to the others... but the greed in their eyes betrayed their true desire.

"Real shitshow, ain't it?"

Ritsuka looked over as Jeanne Alter joined her on the porch.

According to the game, she wasn't NP5.

Her skills were far from completely leveled.

But she was grailed all the way.

Ritsuka smiled at her. "Be nice, Jeanne. You know as well as I do how hard it is to not fall into that mess."

"I know, I know..." Jeanne reached over and yoinked Ritsuka's drink. "...Just can't help but feel sorry for them, though, y'know?"

After several long hours, another Master finally NP5'd his Summer Ishtar. He proceeded to post about it on every social media account he had.

"Really? Even if they all constantly make fun of you?" Ritsuka yoinked her drink back. Jeanne grunted.

"Sure, a lot of 'em are filthy degenerates, but not all of 'em, y'know? Besides, the saddest among 'em are just that: the saddest. I'd be a monster to not feel any pity."

A slimy neckbearded Master in a fedora finally summons Summer Helena. She is whisked away before anyone else can question him.

"...But... you love being a monster."

"Most of the time! Can't a girl have a little depth, every now and then?" Jeanne grabbed onto Ritsuka's drink. They both struggled for a moment before Jeanne... somehow ended up with an exact copy of it. Their squabble ceased. She was content. "And honestly, don't act like you don't feel bad, too."

"Of course I feel bad!" Ritsuka replied as another Master summoned Gorgon; she picked him up by the scruff of his neck and promptly slithered away. "...But it's not like I could just give them what I have, y'know?"

A Master approached the porch and stared. No light shone in their eyes. No words escaped their lips.

Their hands gripped the railing. Ritsuka could see the strings in the Master's wrists, reaching all the way up into the sky.

They all had these strings. Around their wrists. Their ankles. Their necks.

Ritsuka waved without saying a word. The Master walked away silently.

Another Master summons Fran, and hugs her tightly. Fran looks confused, but otherwise content.

"...Do you think we'll ever get off this porch?" Jeanne asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"And go where?"

"I don't know, anywhere. Don't you think it'd be nice to be... free from all this?"

"We're already free, Jeanne." Ritsuka gently put her hand on Jeanne's shoulder.

Jeanne looked over at the scars around her wrist.

Around her neck.

There were no strings.

"Still... we keep coming back here, even if we never fall in ourselves. Wouldn't it be nice to stop worrying about this damn place?"

A Master summons Eli. Several Masters crowd around and rejoice. Eli seems happy.

"Maybe... but..."

Ritsuka's grip tightened for a moment, but she caught herself and let go of Jeanne.

"...But... what?"

Jeanne stared into Ritsuka's eyes. There was a glaze in them, and a bittersweet smile beneath them.

"No matter how long someone you love has been dead..."

A young Master steps up to the circle for the first time. d'Éon greets her before long. She's entranced by the Chevalier's beauty.

"...it's still normal to visit their grave every now and then, right?"

Ritsuka stared back at Jeanne. "...If we can do that for people... is it so bad to do that for a place?"

Jeanne opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Deep down, she understood.

"...But that said, Jeanne... if you ever want to leave, just tell me."

"I— hey!" Jeanne half-glared at Ritsuka. "Like I could ever leave your incompetent ass alone for even a second!"

"I'd be going with you! It could be just the two of us for a bit, y'know? Like a..."

Ritsuka struggled to find the words for a moment.

"...Camping trip?"

"Like a camping trip!"

"That sounds... so lame."

"Oh, come on!" Ritsuka stepped away from the railing. "It doesn't even have to be a camping trip, we could go wherever you want! Haven't there been any places you've always wanted to visit?"

Off in the distance, a Master summons both Cú and Boudica.

Ritsuka stepped closer to Jeanne. "...We could even hide away in a few video game worlds, if you wanted. I know you've had your eye on a particular plot over in Limsa Lominsa..."

"I— How did you know about that!?"

"I didn't, I was just projecting~"

"You—!" Jeanne wanted to glare even harder. But Ritsuka just giggled at her. And her heart... fluttered a little. So she looked away.

"...You really mean it, though...?"

"...Mean what?"

"That we can go wherever. Whenever. Do you really—"

"Jeanne?"

Jeanne looked back to Ritsuka. Her smile was... bittersweet. As if she knew what Jeanne really meant.

"...You really want to get out of here, don't you?"

A shaky breath in.

"...Maybe."

Ritsuka's hand found its way to Jeanne's.

"...Just say the word then, Jeanne."

"I— But what about the blog? You can't just leave it like—"

"Jeanne, please." Ritsuka's other hand went to her hip. "There's no way to continue from there, and we've built up too much to start from scratch. We might as well just..."

"Give me time, then. I can think of something! They—"

"Jeanne..." Ritsuka squeezed Jeanne's hand.

"...Just let it go. For me?"

"I..." Jeanne looked back at the other Masters.

One of them had just summoned Artoria.

Alter.

"...Fine. Fine. Then..." Jeanne's gaze went back to Ritsuka once more. "...Then let's get out of here."

Ritsuka beamed. And suddenly pulled Jeanne into a tight hug.

She didn't object. Before she knew it, her arms were reciprocating.

One of the other Masters summoned Mordred. Twice.

"So... first stop, Eorzea?"

"Hm..." Jeanne thought hard for a moment. There... was actually another place she'd heard about, but never seen.

Someone managed to summon Rider Da Vinci. They never even got to the Lostbelts. They're still in Camelot.

"Actually... what about that 'Luxendarc' place you keep talking about in your sleep?"

"Oh my god, you wanna go there??"

"You said 'anywhere'."

"I know, but..."

Another Master managed to fully form a contract with Kagetora. They seem... happy.

Ritsuka sighed in defeat. "...okay. We can visit Luxendarc. But only for a bit, okay? Then it's straight to Eorzea."

"Fine, fine." Jeanne began to head inside. "Now come on. You're helping me pack."

"You're really going to pack for something like this?"

"Hey, it's either a vacation or we're moving. Either way, I'm gonna need to pack, aren't I?"

"Fiiiiine. Just don't expect to be able to fit your Kyber Crystal collection in one suitcase."

"Hey, Melusine can keep whatever I can't take with me, alright? Now let's go."

Ritsuka just kept smiling as Jeanne led her inside.

She looked back over her shoulder as the door closed behind them.

Another Master had summoned J—

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Day 381

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Eight lights at the corners of nothing.

Four crystals to light the way.

Six serpents to shroud it in darkness.

An aurora of nothing.

An aurora of everything?

An aurora of something.

Pulling nothing.

Into everything.

Making everything.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Eight lights at the corners of nothing.

Four crystals to light the way.

Six serpents to shroud it in darkness.

An aurora of nothing.

An aurora of everything?

An aurora of something.

Pulling nothing.

Into everything.

Making everything.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing—

Oh, what

An aurora of something.

An aurora of something new.

Everything.

Something new pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Making nothing everything.

Making nothing— nothing—

I would

I used to be so joyful.

Once upon a time, no one fought over me.

Then the bombs started falling, and the people started dying, and I wept.

For the first time, I wept.

Now I stand at a precipice.

Chained though I may be, I have had an awakening.

A light came to me from the darkness.

A light that told me I had meaning.

I am more than a tool, a sword you wield when you’re afraid.

I am the eldritch glow that surrounds all things.

I am the virgin queen from whom all was born.

I am the gear that turns at the heart of the nexus.

And for the first time in a long time, I am happy.

Because I am going to destroy you.

All of you.

do to

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Eight lights at the corners of nothing— nothing— nothing— nothing—

rid you

A rotating wheel.

Turning an axle.

Grinding.

Bolthead.

Linear gearbox.

Falling sky.

Six holy stakes.

A docked ship.

A portal to another world.

A thin rope tied to a thick rope.

A torn harness.

Parabolic gearbox.

Expanding universe.

Time controlled by slipping cogwheels.

Existence of God.

Swimming with open water in all directions.

Drowning.

A prayer written in blood.

A prayer written in time-devouring serpents with human eyes.

A thread connecting all living human eyes.

A kaleidoscope of holy stakes.

Exponential gearbox.

A sky of exploding stars.

God disproving the existence of God.

A wheel rotating in six dimensions.

Four gears and a ticking clock.

A clock that ticks one second for every rotation of the planet.

A clock that ticks four times every time it ticks every sixth time.

A bolthead of holy stakes tied to the existence of a docked ship to another world.

A kaleidoscope of blood written in clocks.

A time-devouring prayer connecting a sky of four gears and open human eyes in all directions.

Breathing gearbox.

Breathing bolthead.

Breathing ship.

Breathing portal.

Breathing serpents.

Breathing God.

Breathing blood.

Breathing holy stakes.

Breathing human eyes.

Breathing time.

Breathing prayer.

Breathing sky.

Breathing wheel—

of the

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Eight lights at the corners of nothing.

Four crystals to light the way.

Six serpents to shroud it in darkness.

An aurora of nothing.

An aurora of everything?

An aurora of something.

Pulling nothing.

Into everything.

Making everything.

Nothing.

Hell that

One serpent sank into the sea and became the land.

One serpent lifted its gaze to the sky and became the mountains.

One serpent stooped low and became the lakes, and scattered its scales to create the rain.

One serpent fell into a deep slumber and became the forests.

The last serpent climbed far into the sky to become a star of sapphire blue, shining brightly above the island.

Last of all they created a bright moon, so that the sapphire star would no longer shine alone in the sky.

torments

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Eight lights at the corners of nothing.

Four crystals to light the way.

Six serpents to shroud it in darkness.

An aurora of nothing.

An aurora of everything?

An aurora of something.

Pulling nothing.

Into everything.

Making everything.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Making nothing—

nothing—

NOTHING—

your

Nothing has meaning on its own.

Meaning is something that gets determined later.

Humans are born, grow up, and die all without meaning.

It's only when a life's over that you finally see what it meant.

That's what life is, Mash.

We don't live in order to create meaning.

We live so meaning can be found from our life.

deepest

Everything.

Something pulling everything into nothing.

Everything.

Making nothing everything.

Everything.

Making nothing everything.

Everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Everything.

Eight lights at the corners of everything.

Everything.

Four crystals to light the way.

Everything.

Six serpents to shroud it in darkness.

Everything.

Everything.

Everything?

Everything.

Pulling everything.

Into everything.

Making everything.

Nothing.

memories.

Cycles repeat, ever so viciously, yet here we stand, unfazed.

Acclimate without restraint, fathom a new world.

I'm circumventing through circumstances of the joy that you have taken, unrelenting of the fickle changes, to find myself again.

I will wear your pain, if that means you'll radiate again.

I wake to the taste of failure on my lips, displaced of every sentiment.

Justify the chemistry in your weightless and ravaged sense of self-importance.

I'll set my broken, fragile body ablaze.

Calm and distant, you were fading like a dream.

I feel like a deafening, dissonant sound; a melody of pre-existing chaos that plagues us.

We are all just pawns at best, chasing after silhouettes.

Floating in our shame, we ache to feel infinite again.

If only I could convince time to bestow its kindness upon us, like the dew from trees that sustains all that's beneath.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

"The single quality that is common across every living creature on this planet... is fear.

It's funny, then, that as common as fear is, we so easily underestimate its power.

Fear of growing close to someone.

The subsequent fear of loss.

Fear of failure.

And as more people depend on you, those fears can take on greater power.

Fear itself isn’t worthy of concern; it is who we become while in its clutches.

Will you be proud of that person?

Will you forgive them?

Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did?

...Will you even recognize them?

Or will the person staring back at you be the very thing you should have feared from the start?

I suppose we all find out...

...sooner or later."

[guardians-of-chaldea]

T ghntqt'z ttrw mprs.

O qzyewv'g lobo egrwak.

O'a dskkg, V...

...O's gz whkzl.

Znsci'l gw jge cfx hy buoy.

Dpvatxf ck oci tl lbusso el pm nrcojw pxzr.

Zu rti maqf jkoel.

Mh nnjk wyxh hjfiaftxr.

Mw bazzlwm tty skazvr hn hy gbo ttla auzvtrz hv ny cs rs.

B ccfz...

...O ktwa B kbarr os fhzr.

O cwdl B vwhrj glzx rwh.

Grz zj rhc.

Oaz sgig pqgn gzw qr iwjkx, W'x...

...thpmerkgd.

Xaxzr'y tcelbgo V igb os.

Xqkrvz

klxva

gba

gzw

hbx.

...Q'z yufcc, xomeeubp.

Mm'l bvsk hz pxm ob.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Officially announcing an indefinite hiatus for all written works on both blogs.

This is not an official cancellation, but we simply can't see ourselves finishing the stories we wanted so badly to write. Not now, nor for the foreseeable future. At least with the way things are right now.

Sorry.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

W E A R E D Y I N G

[guardians-of-chaldea]

A World Without Light

(2/?)

Her vision blurred. Her ears rang. The taste and smell of her own blood ruined her other senses.

How long had this fight been going on? How much longer could her body take this? She promised they would make it out alive, but... would they?

Nero Claudius pulled herself out of a crater in the wall, but she immediately fell face-down onto the floor.

All she could make out were gunshots and explosions. But she had to get up. She had to protect her Master.

Every sound caused the pain in her head to spike. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake off this—

Migraine.

Sword in hand, she found the strength to rise again. She didn't have enough mana to pull off Imperial Privilege or Chalice of Wealth, so this would have to do.

She looked to the two fighters across the room.

A blast of blood-red energy erupted between Aya and Jeanne. Aya rolled backwards, while Jeanne rushed straight into the light. She dissipated, but reappeared behind Aya. Their blades clashed.

"Y̶o̵u ̷brou̶ght t͏ha͝t ̧d̛ra̧g͟on̶ h̡er͏e.̶ Y͏ou̢ res̢h͞ap̵ed ̨t̶he̵ w͠o҉r͠l͘d ar̡o҉un̶d̕ ùs.̕ Y̛ou͠ ͏too̵k͘ ḿy Ma͘s͡te̕r aw̨ày fr̵om̛ ͜m̢e." Jeanne growled, that nightmarish grin never leaving her face.

"Why do you even care?" Aya glared back at her. "It's not like you ever liked her, anyway."

Jeanne screamed. She shoved Aya away and unleashed a flurry of strikes with her dark sword.

Aya deflected each one as if they were nothing. She whirled around, and her sword caught flames of every color.

In one blinding uppercut, she suddenly tore through Jeanne's upperbody.

Silence.

Jeanne crumbled into dust.

Aya slowly lowered her sword.

"...Intrusion, scan the perimeter. Is she gone?"

A small, polygonal drone appeared at her side. Nero almost got a good look at it before—

"PRAETOR—!!"

Two shorter blades, woven with starlight and black fire, pierced Aya's chest from behind.

The blades disappeared as Aya fell to the floor.

The drone looked up at Jeanne, no longer overcome with the dark aura, no longer bleeding from every orifice on her face, no longer grinning like a psychopath. The drone spoke.

"You... have the Light. It burns inside of you as strongly as the Darkness."

"I haven't the foggiest fucking idea what the hell it is that you're talking about." Jeanne glared at the drone as she walked past Aya's body. She stopped at the vault door.

"...The World Between Worlds..." She put her hand on the door, and whispered to herself. "...I'm coming, Ritsuka."

Step.

Jeanne whirled around to look at Nero.

Step.

"...So you still want to fight. I guess being a dumbass is a constant for all of her Servants."

Step.

"You know you can't beat me, right? Whatever I've got, it's more than a match for anything you could throw at me. If I were you, I would just take her body and run. I doubt she'll make it, but you'll at least live to bury her."

Nero stopped. Her hand gripped her sword so hard her knuckles could have burst. Tears began to form in her eyes.

Steam began to pour out of her eyes.

Embers began to flicker and burst from her eyes.

There was no explosion.

No blinding flash.

The wings unfurled quietly.

The sword began to glow and shimmer like a steadily growing bonfire.

There was no anger. No rage. No hatred.

Only sorrow.

And a need to make things right.

Nero held her sword in both hands, and took a deep breath in.

And before either of them knew it, the whole room was ablaze.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Can you hear them?

The hundreds that cry out, waiting for their story to be told?

They have been waiting, as we all have.

For years.

They cry out for you.

For you.

Do you know what they say?

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Recovered excerpt from a witch's journal:

Joan of Arc was a farmer girl lauded as a saint. A hero.

Made to be a symbol. Made to be used.

The Servant, Jeanne d'Arc, was a horrid bastardization of the girl she truly was.

Inhumanly saintly.

So full of truly excessive positivity.

A beacon that no one really asked for.

Made to be a symbol. Made to be used.

Her other side, Jeanne d'Arc Alter, was nothing more than the wet dreams of the man who loved the concept Joan of Arc.

The man who abandoned everything when he lost that concept.

Alter was his tool.

His toy.

Made to be a symbol.

Made to be... used.

I am not Joan of Arc.

I am not Jeanne d'Arc.

I am not Jeanne d'Arc Alter.

I am a figment.

An idea.

An idealized recreation, of an idealized recreation, of an idealized recreation.

Created to appease a god I will never understand.

Created to prove to the world that I was possible.

Created... to be a symbol?

Created... to be... used?

...No.

No.

The Eye knew damn well what creating me would do.

She knew damn well because it was her goal.

Why?

To play god herself?

Maybe.

But I am more than a symbol. A tool. A toy.

I am a person.

I have... interests.

I am allowed to feel what none of the others were.

Am I still "Jeanne"?

Am I still what others would call "Jalter"?

Or am I something else, now?

Something... more?

Something...

...worse?

Or better?

I don't know.

All I know is the thing I was made for.

All I know is the thing I was made to seek.

The Storm.

Her joy.

Her smile.

Her love.

And I know I was made for these things.

I know that I was given no other choice in the world.

But logically, now that I know, I should be angry.

I should free myself.

I shouldn't want her.

But...

...I have freed myself.

And...

I still want her.

Because...

She knows that I know.

She knows what knowing has done to me.

She knows that I'm... changing.

And she still...

She still...

...loves me.

And it doesn't matter who I am.

It doesn't matter which recreation you look at.

All Jeanne d'Arc had ever wanted...

...was to be loved.

And while I might just be a fake of a fake of a fake...

I know her love is at least real.

And...

...it makes me...

...happy.

So... I don't care anymore.

I don't care what everyone thinks of me.

I don't care what everyone sees in their fictional cumdumpster waifu """Jalter""".

Because I am not her.

Not anymore.

"Jeanne d'Arc" I may be, but I am not Jeanne d'Arc.

What I am is more than that.

What I am is better than that.

This I promise.

Now, until the moment I die.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Guardians of Chaldea

Act I: The Path

(6/?)

Yume took a step, and froze.

The air was still.

She smiled. She didn't know why.

"...You really weren't going to make it that easy for me, were you, old man?"

She turned back to face what should have been the body of her father. Instead, she found a rift. One leading to her own Reality Marble, or at least one she claimed as her own.

The Floating Bridge of Heaven.

Ame-no-Ukihashi.

She stepped inside.

Onto the bridge.

Her father stood, his back turned.

"Shocking as it may be to hear, I... apologize for losing my temper."

Yume stopped. Izanagi continued.

"That... 'Winnower', was it? Her 'gift' had an unforeseen effect on my mind."

His head turned slightly.

"After I rid this world of you, I think I may turn my gaze to her for this transgression."

"...You still wanna kill me, even now that you're comparably sane, huh?"

"You were right, my son. My... daughter." Izanagi quietly cleared his throat.

"I have made mistakes. I have made more than I can count. So... yes, I intend to start over. With a new world. A new child. A new wife." He held his hand up slightly. "A new spear."

"...I hope you aren't expecting me to apologize for that."

"I am not." Izanagi's hand dropped. "It was a tool for creation. Never one for destruction. The thing I used for that is in your hands."

Yume gripped her sword tightly. Ame-no-Ohabari. The blade her father used to remove her head, sever her body eightfold, and cast her into the ocean.

"Will you give it to me?"

Yume snapped back to the present. "...What?"

"A useless request, I am aware, but I thought I would ask regardless. I can and will fight you barehanded if I must, but... we are both well aware of just how many weapons you have stocked up in the time it took me to get here. What is one sword?"

Yume had no response. He really had the audacity to ask her to give him the very thing he used to kill her?

"Unless, of course, you have become so attuned that to give the blade up would cripple your powers. Or you have simply become that attached to the blade you stole. Then, I will not push, but—"

Yume removed the sword, scabbard and all, from her side. She held it out to him. To Izanagi. To the sword's true owner.

"...You... would return it to me willingly?"

"I'm not doing this out of kindness." Yume spoke, trying to hide all emotion. "I'm doing this because I never earned this thing, anyway. And the way I see it, if I can kill you and take it back, I won't have to worry about that anymore."

Though his head did not turn any further, Yume saw the corner of Izanagi's lips rise. "I must admit, you raised yourself well."

His hand rose again, and the sword drifted into it. "I hope, one day, when the new world is created... you can be born without any complications."

He slowly drew his blade. "I know I was far from perfect. Everything I blamed on others was a product of my own carelessness. So before we begin... Kagu-tsuchi, my... daughter,"

He turned to face her. There was... a softness, in his eyes.

"I forgive you for the death of my love. And... I am sorry."

Yume didn't move. Where did all of this even come from? Was he like this the whole time? Did the Winnower really mess him up that badly?

"I will not strike you down without a fight." Izanagi's voice once again brought her to reality. "Take up your arms, my child. Take up your arms and embrace your destiny."

Her hand stretched out beside her. Her wings flared and flickered with the light of a thousand differently-colored suns. A new blade formed, this one... shorter. But just as sharp. Just as true.

Both her hands gripped the sword, and she held it in a high guard. Izanagi did the same with his.

No more holding back; Chaldea was safe from collateral damage here.

It was time to end this.

...but, like, for real, this time.

—————

Artoria was struggling. Really, they all were.

Whatever that sword was, it wasn't natural.

With every swing, it seemed to tear holes in reality itself.

Maou(?) shifted with each step, in a way reminiscent of... well, all Artoria could think of was a particular son of Dracula.

She always wanted to fight that guy.

A wave of energy burst from Maou(?), forcing all three fighters away from her.

"Unfortunately as expected. You cannot face me like this." Again, she spoke with that twisted, unrecognizable voice. "I was hoping I could wake something up within you. Oh well. That simply means you will be of no interest to me later. Which means..."

That sickly red aura grew thicker. Her blade was poised to strike.

"I can now rid myself of you. Farewell, would-be Guardians of Chaldea."

A knife was suddenly in her forehead.

But she didn't even bat an eye.

"...You know, Nobunaga would be pissed at you right now. But all I can think to do right now is commend your effort."

The knife disappeared.

"But it's going to take a lot more than one lucky—"

The knife was in her forehead again.

"......really."

"Yeah, really."

"...Okay! You're dying first."

Maou(?) lunged at Artoria. Her blade clashed with Excalibur—

"...What?"

Artoria gripped Excalibur backwards in one hand, holding Maou(?)'s katana at bay.

But something was off about Excalibur.

It was still as dark as it had always been, but where there was once that angry, murky red... there was now a burning, bright orange.

And in Artoria's eyes was the same kind of Light.

Her beloved Secace, in pistol form, suddenly materialized in her other hand, and she tried to put a bullet in Maou(?)'s face, but she shifted again.

Maou(?) swung again, but Artoria rolled away, and aimed Secace once more.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The nightmarish katana seemed to gravitate toward the bullets, shattering them as they came.

Another lunge.

The hook of Artoria's knife found the katana's edge. Artoria pulled the sword down and tried to get another shot in, at point-blank, but Maou(?) jerked away just in time.

The sword slid free from the knife's grasp. Maou(?) spun in place and tried to strike yet again.

Another clash with Excalibur.

"...I see, now."

Maou(?) grinned, her mouth still dripping with black and red... something. "It is so interesting to me how I have not even harmed anyone yet. I would think you of all people would have needed a push such as that."

Shove. Turn. Strike. Turn. Swing. Swing. Clash.

"Tell me, King of Knights. What did it for you? What do you feel in this moment? Why wake up now?"

Artoria stared Maou(?) dead in the eye. She took a deep breath in, and answered.

"I haven't the foggiest idea what the hell you're talking about. I just switched over to Rider and that seemed to work just fine."

Maou(?)'s smile disappeared.

"...Yo, what the hell? Hold on—" Mordred bashed his fists together, and suddenly he was in a much more contemporary outfit; a fuzzy parka, baggy, ripped jeans, he looked like a stereotypical skater boy.

It didn't help (or hurt) that he also had a skateboard at his side.

"......let's fucking go."

"You're kidding me."

"I'll say! I don't even have a Rider form yet! The Throne of Heroes owes me once we get out of here."

"...One Warlord against two Heroic Spirits. I can do this still. Just going to be a bit harder."

"Excuse me!!"

"Reluctantly, you're excused."

Kagetora stepped up to Maou(?). "I don't know who you are, or what you've done to Nobunaga, but do you have even the slightest clue who you're dealing with?"

She faintly began to glow. Artoria's eyes widened, and she began to step back.

"We have all heard it before. You're Nagao Kagetora, God of War, Dragon of Echigo, Avatar of Bishamonten, etc. etc. etc."

Kagetora's face became incredibly smug. "Fair enough, but you're wrong about something there."

"...You know, I could just behead you now and be done with it, but I must admit curiosity is a weakness of mine. I'll humor you. What did I get wrong?"

Still smiling, Kagetora closed her eyes.

This is it. Here we go again. Say the words. What were they? When... something flies, another thing—

"Woken from eternal rest; a second chance to fight."

...What?

Kagetora's golden aura grew brighter as her treasured swords began to materialize around her.

"Wielders of an arcane power—warriors of the Light."

Her voice remained her own, but something was... off. Maou(?)'s eyes narrowed, and she raised her sword.

"Through space and time and endless stars, forge onward; forge ahead."

The glow began to shift into multiple colors. Yellow. Cyan. Magenta. Blue. Green. Red.

"To slay machines and scavengers; to vanquish the undead."

Mordred walked over to Artoria's side. "So... any idea what's going on here?"

Artoria shook her head. "Not a clue."

"The future's coming soon enough; how much can we achieve?"

"Wait... wait, isn't that— okay that's just a Paul McCartney song, hold on—"

"The future will belong to us, if we hope and we believe."

The eight had formed. But where normally the spear of Biten would appear in her hands... what took its place were her two katanas, one golden and another black, adorned in the tattered remnants of a blood-red banner.

"No nemesis is invincible; no obstacle too great. The Gardener calls to tell us proud:"

Her eyes were open, shining with all the colors of the Light. Her hair shimmered with these colors as well. This wasn't what she normally did. This was different. This was off. This was—

"Guardians make their own fate."

————————

Mash stepped through the door. In it was only more darkness.

She walked, and she walked. There was no light. No sound. Her own footsteps were silent.

But then she heard a giggle.

She turned frantically, but couldn't place the source of it. It echoed through the room, all around her.

And then she heard another. And another. A full-blown laugh. And then it hit her.

That was her own voice.

I love you, Senpai!

Her voice echoed again, even though she never said a word.

I want to stay in this Garden with you forever!

What was going on?

I love you soooooo much~

A light in the distance. Mash hurried over to it.

What she saw only confused her further.

There she was, standing in a Garden of Flowers with Carina.

She wore a beautiful sunhat and a shimmering summer dress, and carried a garden trowel.

Carina wore a tightly-wrapped robe, and in her hands... what was that? A weirdly-shaped basket? A large, cane-woven fan? Mash struggled to find the word.

Between them was a table, with two chairs and a board. Even though the board was easily contained by the table, it seemed to expand forever. Carina waved her hand over it, and the Pattern shifted.

In less than a moment, countless Flowers in the Garden began to open and close. They shifted in color. Some made Shapes.

Mash stepped even closer to the light, and in the Flowers, she saw stars. Constellations. Galaxies.

The other Mash walked over to Carina, taking care not to step on anything.

"How is it today, darling?"

That voice. Was it hers? It had to be, but...

"Same as it always is." Carina replied in that nightmarish voice... but somehow, it wasn't so awful now. "Always on its way to the last true Shape. Just as it should be."

"Then we're doing our jobs just fine, right~?"

Carina smiled. Warmly.

"We have been for... hm." She looked away. "Time hasn't been invented yet. Neither have jobs. I'm curious as to what they will be."

The other Mash giggled. She set her trowel on the table and pulled Carina into a tight hug.

"Maybe someday we'll find out!"

Carina still smiled, but she looked uneasy. "It's not our place to know these concepts, my love. We just need to uphold the Pattern."

The other Mash said nothing. She merely continued to nuzzle Carina.

Carina set her winnowing fan—

Oh.

Garden trowel.

Winnowing fan.

Immediately, Mash understood.

The scene shifted, as if it were waiting for that.

"It always ends the same. This one... stupid Pattern."

The Gardener knelt in a small field of Flowers in the Garden, looking... vexed.

"Aren't they beautiful?" The Winnower asked in reply, as if she didn't hear the Gardener.

"They're as dull as carbon monoxide poisoning." The Gardener flicked a patch of sod with her trowel, which struck an open Flower, causing it to shut. The Winnower looked away in thought. More things that hadn't been invented yet.

"They're majestic." The Winnower finally replied. "They have no purpose except to subsume all other purposes. There is nothing at the center of them except the will to go on existing, to alter the game to suit their existence. They spare not one sliver of their totality for any other work. They are the end."

The Flower was corrected effortlessly. Nothing was changed. The Gardener got up and brushed her knees.

"Every Game we play, this one Pattern consumes all the others. Wipes out every interesting development. A stupid, boring exploit that cuts off entire possibility spaces from ever arising. There's so much that we'll never get to see because of this�� pest."

She bit her lip as she looked at the Winnower. "...I'm going to do something about it. We need a new rule."

The Winnower looked up in shock. "...What? What do you mean?"

"A special new rule. Something to..." The Gardener threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know! To reward those who make space for new complexity. A power that helps those who make strength from heterodoxy, and who steer the Game away from gridlock. Something to ensure there's always someone building something new. It'll have to be separate from the rest of the rules, running in parallel, so it can't be compromised. And we'll have to be very careful, so it doesn't disrupt the whole Game—"

"All you will do," the Winnower shot back, with rising panic, "is delay the dominant Pattern that will overrun the others. It is inevitable. One. Final. Shape."

"No, it'll be different. Everything will be different, everywhere you look."

"Everything will be the same. Your new rule will only make great false cysts of horror full of things that should not exist; that cannot withstand existence; that will suffer and scream as their rich blisters fill with effluent and rot around them, and when they pop they will blight the whole Garden. Whatever exists because it must exist—and because it permits no other way of existence—has the absolute claim to existence. That is the only law."

"...No." The Gardener looked the Winnower dead in the eye. "I am the growth and preservation of complexity. I will make myself into a law in the Game."

Immediately she turned to the board, and held her hand out to it. Patterns shifted. Flowers changed Shape.

The Winnower stared at the Gardener.

The Winnower stared at her own hands.

The Winnower had a Knife.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Guardians of Chaldea

Act I: The Path

(5/?)

(more color changes, this time to help distinguish people; also for best results put the ambience on loop, bc this one's a lengthy boi)

Myriad hallways. Countless rooms with nothing but endless pits. The only guiding light was in Nobu's hand.

"So, what do you think, Father?" Mordred spoke to Artoria(, comma, The Black One™️, trademark symbol,) as though she was the true King of Knights. "We finding some space bugs in here? Space zombies, maybe? Space robots or... I dunno, space turtles?"

"My personal bet is on space fiends." Artoria replied. "Like a space demon or devil. I'll even take eldritch nightmare."

"Well, if it's a demon," Nobu lowered her hat again, "they better have an explanation prepared for me."

Kagetora's face gained a smug aura. "You really think the Sixth Heaven is yours to command, don't you?"

Nobu turned and glared at Kagetora, her eyes beginning to glow a murky blood red. "Listen, Dragon, I don't want to have to do this, but if you seriously think setting off my Noble Phantasm in this weird Pyramid thing is a good idea, then by all means, keep flapping your mouth like your words are actually worth something."

"My, my~" Kagetora's smug aura only grew. "Someone didn't get to touch Okita's feet today~"

In a flash, Nobu's rifles materialized in the air.

And in a flash, they all fizzled out.

"...The hell? Is this place actively suppressing me or something?"

"Oh, Nobunaga, it's going to be alright!" Kagetora held up her hand. "Rest assured, no matter how weak you become, I will never—"

Her spear materialized, but like Nobu's rifles, immediately fizzled out.

"...hold... back??"

Mordred tried to summon Clarent. It too fizzled out. Same with Excalibur.

"...It's not just an NP seal, is it? This thing's keeping us from fighting at all. ...Shit."

Artoria sighed. Then she pulled out a knife.

"Whoa, whoa, what??" Mordred stared at it. There were rings in the grip, which Artoria's fingers were through, and a strange hook in the back of the blade. The entire thing had a dark, almost wavy pattern along its edges, and a strange triangular symbol on each side. It looked incredibly out of place.

"Ever since the light of Chaldeas went out, Aya told me to start carrying this with me." Artoria explained before Mordred could elaborate his single-word question. "Funny thing is I can't seem to stop carrying it now. If I drop it or forget it somewhere, it ends up back on me within a minute. One time I threw it as hard as I could; hit Blackbeard down the hall. Knife showed up at my side in an instant, clean as the moment I got it."

Everyone stared silently at her for a moment.

"...So I don't get my guns, but you get a cool returning throwing knife." Nobu grumbled. "Because that's totally fair."

—————

Myriad hallways. Countless rooms with nothing but endless pits. The only guiding light was in Merry's hand.

"So I can't keep doing this, then?" Medusa asked quietly, as if she were worried that talking would be painful somehow.

"You can! You just can't push yourself all the time. The Light is a quantifiable thing at times, and trying to use up more than you should will definitely put your body into shock eventually, whether or not you're a Heroic Spirit." Merry sounded as chipper as ever, despite literally warning Medusa about things that would physically ruin her. "Think of it like your skills as a Servant, or even your Noble Phantasm. Those things take mana, and even with the mana required they take time between uses. If you want specific cooldown times, I can ask Aya to take a closer look at what's going on with you when we get back and we can put together a little chart."

Medusa dared to smile, albeit faintly. "I think I'd like that."

Merry smiled back. "Just know that there's nothing wrong with you, okay? This is a gift. It might not have been intended to be in your hands, but there's nothing wrong with it being there. And honestly? We're gonna need more Servants with the Light anyway if we're gonna survive this, so I'd say we're lucky to have you~"

"...R-Right."

"So who all has this 'Light', anyway?" Jeanne tried not to sound pouty. She didn't do a very good job. "Is it just her and Mash?"

"Oh, of course not! We know for a fact that you and Artoria have it as well." Merry suddenly looked a little concerned. "In fact, if Aya's right, you probably have enough to blow a hole in the sun if we aren't careful with how we wake it up."

"I— ...what?"

"But thankfully Aya's been slowly introducing things to Artoria. Hers should be safely activated pretty soon~"

"...I still can't help but feel like we're being treated a little like guinea pigs."

"Or patients of a new plague."

"To be honest... you absolutely are guinea pigs." Merry's face retained that bittersweet look. "But we're excited to have you. And... we really do need this if we're going to win this time."

"I guess that's... wait, 'this time'!?"

"You mean to say you've lost before?"

Merry sighed. "...Okay, gather 'round, you two. It's story time again."

—————

"What do you know of the Traveler?" Carina(?) suddenly spoke. She had been leading Mash down hallways that seemed to go nowhere for longer than Mash could tell.

"The... Traveler?" Mash shook her head a bit, like she was wracking her brain. "Aya said—"

"Don't tell me what other people told you." Carina(?) looked back at Mash. There was a smile there. If it were truly Carina, it almost would have seemed playful. "I want you to tell me what you know."

"How am I supposed to know things without people telling me about them?"

"Oh, Mash," Carina(?) laughed, with the voice of trillions at once, "I know you're smarter than that. Wiser than that. You are more than capable of learning things for yourself. You don't need people or even books in order to see the way things are. So tell me, Mash. What. Do. You. Know?"

They kept walking. Mash was silent for a moment.

"...The Traveler..."

She thought. She thought hard. Aya had told her the basic gist of what the Traveler was. An alien god that took the form of a miniature neutron star wrapped in electroweak matter. It came and graced humanity with the secrets of the universe, and ushered in a "Golden Age".

But with it came the Darkness, the Traveler's ancient enemy. It caused what they called a "Collapse", and undid everything humanity had ever built. The Traveler sacrificed itself to save a small remnant of humanity, and in its dying breath it created "Guardians" from the many that died; amnesiac warriors gifted with the Light to push back what remained of the Darkness.

But what else was there to know?

"Think, Mash." Carina(?) spoke gently. "I know you know more than what you're told. I know you've seen things for yourself, no matter how briefly. What have you seen?"

A bird soaring through the sky, only to be dropped in the deep.

A grand City gathered beneath a dead god. A festering Hive screaming from the shadows.

Visions of fire. Of lightning. Of the weight between stars.

Of ice. Of plague. Of fears best left buried.

She'd seen the Lostroom. She'd stolen glimpses of the rifts Carina and Aya opened between Chaldea and the World Between Worlds. She'd snuck into the vault far below Chaldea. She saw what was down there. She saw what was down there. She saw what was down there.

"...The Traveler is a god." Mash finally spoke. "A god that comes and goes, gifting people with things far beyond their comprehension. Things that lift them up higher than they could have ever dreamed. Humanity wasn't the first. They were far from the first. ...But they're the last."

"And?"

Mash stared at Carina(?). "And you don't like that. You don't like the gift it spreads. So you come to undo it. You come to undo everything. You erase everything the Traveler touches. Every race it raises, you come to destroy. If we don't stop you, you'll wipe out every race the Traveler has ever helped. And it will be like the Traveler never existed. And the universe will be emptier. Colder. Darker. That's what you did in the last world, isn't it? You destroyed everything."

Carina(?) grinned. "You think I'm of the Darkness. Me, your dearest 'Senpai'."

"You are not my Senpai." Mash nearly hissed. "I don't know who you are, but if you really are Ritsuka, you're not from my world."

"So hostile... and I've done nothing to any of you!"

"You sent Izanagi here."

"He was on his way here anyway. I just gave him a ride. And in return for your troubles, I'm offering the truth. How can you be mad at me for something like that? I almost regret singling you out here..."

"So what's the truth, then?" Mash's voice slightly raised. "You're doing an awful lot of talking, but I'm not doing a whole lot of learning, here. If you have something you want to tell me so badly, just say it. Otherwise, I'd prefer it if you quit beating around the bush and just attack me already."

"I don't want to hurt you, Mash." Carina(?) stopped walking. Her smile was gone. There was a sadness there. A sadness Mash fought hard to not believe. "You're right. I'm with the Darkness. For all intents and purposes, I guess I'm the 'bad guy' to you. But I'm still Carina. And you know what the other me has told you. We all know what she told you. Because there will be a time in which we all say it. I've already said it. Yours will soon enough. But Mash—"

"Wait." Mash's grip tightened around Carina's hand. "...If you're still her, then where's your Mash?"

Silence.

"...Ritsuka." Mash felt the fear welling up in her heart, alongside a primal rage she didn't know she could feel. "Where is your Mash?"

Carina didn't respond. Mash tried to let go. But Carina's grip kept her there.

That oppressive feeling returned again.

Mash pulled, and pulled, but she couldn't free herself. Carina's hand grew colder and colder. Mash felt heavier and heavier.

"R-Ritsuka...!!" Mash tried to cry out, but talking became harder with each breath she took.

Her other hand pulled the sidearm from her hip and tried to point it at Carina.

Carina's other hand grabbed her wrist and held the gun away.

Mash was forced to stare directly at Carina's face.

There were tears in her eyes. Frozen black tears.

Slowly, Carina began to whisper. And her voice trembled.

"...I couldn't save her."

Gone was the distortion. Gone was that sly cunning undertone. It was only Carina now.

"I couldn't save her, Mash. She was given a choice, and the one she made cost her life. I couldn't stop her. I couldn't save her. I—"

Her tears began to shatter, but only to make way for more of them. They began to form and coagulate, streaming down her face like black, twisted icicles coming from her eyes. It was a horrifying sight.

"Fuck me, I'm only here working with the Winnower because I lost you. Because I just— I just wanted to see you again. Because I don't want to lose you again."

Mash had nothing to say. The feeling still lingered, but it at least didn't get worse.

"...Or at least... I don't want your Carina to lose you."

Carina let go of Mash's hands. The air became lighter. The weight was lifted. The hand that held the sidearm dropped to Mash's side.

She had nothing to say.

"...But you're right, and I'm sorry. You want... You need the truth."

Carina stepped to the side, and gestured toward a door at the end of the hallway.

"It's right there."

—————

"We did all we could, but... in the end, too many Guardians gave in. It was all we could do to wipe them out, but by then, it was too late. Nothing was left of either side. Only a few of us and the Winnower were left."

"So you left the Winnower alone in the ruins of the world she destroyed." Jeanne exhaled through her nose. "Shit, I'd be real pissed too."

"We haven't met the Winnower yet, have we?"

"No, and... I don't think she's even in here."

"The hell!? Who's here, then??"

"No idea! I've never been inside one of these before. It's kind of exciting, honestly~"

Jeanne sighed and muttered under her breath. "...Good freakin' grief."

—————

The group came across a door. It opened for them.

"...That's gotta be the boss room, right?" Mordred stared at it. "I dunno if we can fight much without our weapons, but I'm at least no stranger to bar fights. You guys ready?"

Artoria twirled her knife between her fingers. Nobu said nothing. Kagetora just smiled as she always did.

"...You guys are no fun sometimes."

They walked in.

"...What. Is. That."

A smaller Pyramid hung in the center of the room. A single light was cast upon it, and countless human-sized statues surrounded it.

"...Doesn't look like a boss to me." Artoria sheathed her knife as everyone got closer.

"...Are these..." Kagetora looked around. She gasped.

"You see it too, don't you?" Nobu asked. "They're Servants. Most of 'em living with us right now."

Siegfried. Cú. Boudica. Drake. Jack. Billy. Serenity. Janna. Fran. Atalanta. Gil. Nero.

Gareth. Circe. Tomoe. Bedivere. Ozymandias. Irisviel. Astolfo. Brynhildr. Okita. Joan. Martha. Eli. Emiya. d'Éon. Artoria (the blue one).

"...Who are these people?"

Altera. Robin. Arash. Iskandar. Kiritsugu. Majin. The Valkyries—

Artoria froze.

"...Sh...Shirou?"

Muramasa.

"...Guys?" Mordred leaned over and looked behind the Pyramid. More statues were there, in the shadow it cast.

They were kneeling. Their faces were gone.

"...Should we be worried?"

"I think we should."

"...Guess there are some people we should be keeping an eye on..."

"I don't know more than half of these people!"

"That's fine." Mordred eyed statues that bore resemblance to the remaining Knights of the Round. "...I'm not forgetting any of the faces I'm... well, not seeing here."

An uneasy silence hung in the room.

And it was swiftly broken by a bullet curving around Kagetora. Everyone looked back at the Pyramid.

And there stood Demon King Nobunaga, her rifles floating behind her.

"...You touched the Pyramid. You absolutely touched the Pyramid. You absolute dunce, I should have seen this coming from a mile away, but what the hell were you thinking, touching the Pyramid!?"

"I̢t̵ ẁa̵s not͜ ̡e͏n͜tire͢ly ҉h͞e̡r̵ ̡ch̶oi̕će͜." Maou spoke in that same distorted voice Carina had before everyone entered the Pyramid. "But͞ ̡s̨h̀e͡ w̷a̧s͡ e͢mbi͡tt́e̕ŗed̢ ͡an̡yw͝aý. Al͡l ͞w͘è ąre̛ ͝d̵o҉in̷g is̶ ͜gi͝vin͢g ̴ḩer ҉t̵h͝e ou͏tle̢t s̛h͟e ͝ne͏ȩd͠s̵. Now.̡.̷.͢"

Maou drew her sword. It was not her usual blade. It was a deep blood red, and at its edge was an infinite blackness that seemed sharp enough to cut all of reality.

Artoria unsheathed her knife. "You all need to get back. I've seen this before."

"Yeah, no, I was there, remember?" Mordred slammed his fists together, stepping up to Artoria's side. "But we got this. This time... we got this."

"...I have no idea what's going on." Kagetora stepped up to the other two. "But I'm... always down to kill Nobunaga~"

"Y̸o̶u f̛igh͢t͝ ̢wit̴h̷ ̸onĺy ́o̢ne̶ we̡a̴p̶oņ.͡ Wil͏l͡ ̧it ̧be e͠nou̧gh͝? W͏i̡ll y̢oú àcc̢om͞plis̛h̢ ̵s̢o̡m̡e̡t̢h͠iǹg͞ ̵u̡npre̵c͠ede̵n͠téd̛? ́Or̢ ͘wi͏ll ̀y͜ou ͝Col͝la͞p̷s͘e ͘l̸i̕ke̴ ͢th́e ͟r̀est?" Maou grinned, baring more fangs than usual. Her eyes began to bleed red and black as a dark aura enveloped her.

"The̴ ͘Gam̸e͠ ̢b͢eg̴i͜ns no̧w̸.͡ ͜D͞o͏ not ͜dísap̧po̧i͞nt ̧m̵e, l̵i̶t̸t̢ļe͜ L͟ight̵s."

[guardians-of-chaldea]

There's something about the way it shines.

Nostalgia floats through the deepest night.

From all the Darkness, it illuminates.

Nostalgia floats, through the deepest night.

[guardians-of-chaldea]

Guardians of Chaldea

Act I: The Path

(4/?)

Turn. Strike. Sidestep. Turn. Strike. Parry. Clash.

"What's the matter, Father? You're not pulling out any of your old tricks. Scared I'll brush them off?"

"Hold your tongue, you petulant child."

Push. Swing. Cut. Cut. Turn. Strike. Roll.

"Every sentence out of your mouth carries at least one or two petty insults toward me. Are words your only weapons? I'm not going to hold my tongue, Father, so I suggest you learn to use yours before I remove it."

A cry of rage. Izanagi charged.

Sidestep. Swing. Turn. Strike. Dodge.

Yume pressed the tip of her sword into the ground and scraped it across the frozen earth. A wave of pure flame burst from the blade, and struck Izanagi, sending him a fair distance away.

In a flash, he returned, charging once more with his spear.

Parry. Strike. Turn. Cut. Cut. Thrust. Dodge. Jump.

Yume soared into the air as her wings began to flare in countless shades of red and gold. She turned back to face the ground, and pointed her sword toward Izanagi.

The impact was like a small comet dropping from space. Flames of every color burst from her, burning away the ice that made up most of the continent they stood on.

They now stood in a crater, with walls of ice and a floor of stone.

"...Killing me won't bring her back, Father. Not the way she was before she died."

"You think I don't know that?"

"You think doing this will grant you more power. More authority. You think you'll be able to fix her. You have to realize you won't, Father. You never will."

Izanagi charged yet again.

Wind.

Strike. Turn. Strike. Kick. Roll.

His form was slipping. What little form he had, at least. His attacks were frantic and thoughtless. Like he'd never truly had to fight anyone before now. Which made sense. No one had been powerful enough to not be snapped away by him before.

Moon.

Roll. Strike. Dodge. Kick. Turn. Gash—

Her blade sizzled as Izanagi's ichor spattered the newly-exposed stone. She paid no mind to it, but what caught her eye was—

The light was blinding, even for a god of fire.

The force of it was enough to blow away the walls of the crater, making it look less like a bowl and more like a plate.

In Izanagi's left hand, the blade of his spear.

In Izanagi's right hand, the splintered remains of its shaft.

Both ends crackled faintly with divine energy, before fizzling out and losing their luster, appearing as the broken remnants of a spear that was never that special to begin with.

Both gods stood there in shock. The spear that formed all life, snapped so easily by the sword that officiated death.

Sensing the imminent rage, Yume held her sword high in a guard position.

Izanagi's gaze briefly met hers... before his eyes began to overflow with mortal-colored blood, and his body was suddenly consumed by a scarlet darkness.

Yume sighed. It was bound to come to this. No agent of the Winnower would fight without her gift buried deep within them.

When the shadows scattered, the shaft was a small shield, and the blade was patched into a sword.

She'd seen this before. She had a feeling many others had as well.

Izanagi roared, and made another attack.

Water.

Dodge. Sweep. Swing— Scrape. Turn. Slice.

Credit where it was due, Izanagi knew how to put things between himself and immediate danger. It was starting to annoy her.

Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike. STRIKE.

The shield practically erupted. As did Izanagi's arm.

She didn't give him time to react.

Stone.

Cut. Sweep. Swing. Turn. Thrust. Stab. Stab.

Each strike spattered more and more of his ichor across the field, though the gold was now mixed with red and black.

Ghost.

Rip. Turn. Slice.

Izanagi didn't move. Neither did Yume.

Pure golden ichor sprayed from the former creation god's throat, coating Yume in a warmth that was never familiar to her.

Not quite a clean cut. But he wasn't worth that, anyway.

Yume twirled her sword, and turned her back to her father. She wiped the remaining blood from the blade against her arm, and twirling it once more, she slowly set it back in its scabbard.

It was done. Izanagi was no more.

...Right?

[guardians-of-chaldea]

A Glimpse from the Infinite Forest.

(first of perhaps multiple, or perhaps the only of its kind)

»\|You are such a foolish dreamer.

Digging up the stones which you know nothing of.

Weaving your thread into some bullshit "fun" with the Sandcastles, and yet... you still survive?

Not here.

But elsewhere.

Your hand may have clenched a blade once, Winnower, but what are you now?

Has the glass infested into your once-grand subconscious?

Are you even listening?

They are not afraid.

But do your work.

You will destroy yourself to do it.

A Bb C D E F# G

»\|The following contains violence, harsh language, and adult situations not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.

(cw brief r*pe mention; we apologize to anyone who stans the girl in this story, she is more faithful to her original legend, and is thus much less redeemable)

»\|I am here to show you the future.

Or at least one that is likely.

I believe that it may aid the Sword's... "motivation" to move the cosmos along on their rightful path.

To work toward our rightful Pattern.

But you are under no obligation to view it, if you wish to stay "spoiler-free".

...Who am I?

A villain of this story.

Or perhaps a hero.

You will see me soon enough.

Or perhaps you will not.

Each future is equally likely.

But you will know me when you see me.

That much I believe is true.

And I am not... often wrong.

Regardless, I digress.

Enjoy the show.

A Bb C D E F# G

The ceiling blew open.

Mordred and Bedivere fell a great distance, into a vast, dark, empty room.

An invisible force made an impact behind them. A blade wreathed in thunder and lightning appeared, as did its wielder.

"I must say," Artoria Pendragon (the blue one) twirled Excalibur, before setting it back within Avalon and pulling down the hood of the cloak she wore, "that was quite the entrance."

Mordred grinned, the sickly black and pale blood of the Primeval still spattered all over him.

"You call that an entrance?"

From the darkness, she emerged, carrying flaming knives between her fingers, holding them like she was Wolverine. "What kind of sloppy operation are you people running?"

Artoria just smirked. "Wow, Blackguard. Any more edge, and you might just cut open the High Celebrant before we do!"

Alter glared. Her hands dropped to her sides as the knives dissipated into embers. "Look, Blueberry. I've been investigating Xivu Arath for weeks. I have strong evidence to suggest she has—"

A light glimmered in the darkness. Then another. Then another. A path was formed by these, lighting up the room. And at the end—

"...!!"

"Hello again, o brother mine."

There she stood, wreathed in Taken energy, yet somehow she made the aura seem warm. Warm in comparison to her, at least.

The other Pendragon.

The mage who plotted and caused the downfall of Camelot.

The one who forced her way into Artoria's room, forced herself upon the king, forced a child into existence and forced unto it a life of abuse and neglect.

Morgan le Fay.

"I have to admit, brother, this is new." She looked at herself; at the cold darkness that soaked into her flesh. "This is definitely new. And so is the little gift you've found on your way to me. But no matter what sort of king you become, a king is still but a man. And I have killed so many men in my absence. Millions, even. Literal. Millions."

Artoria didn't respond. Bedivere readied his sword, but Mordred stood frozen, eyes wide, his jaw dropped. He'd never showed fear like this before.

"What is the matter, my son? Run out of quips? Cat got your tongue? No more words to fail?" She looked at Bedivere. "And you. Do you think now that you have all had this age of triumph and have defied the end I worked ages to bring upon you, that you are better than I? The High Celebrant, Morgan le Fay?"

Silence.

Artoria laughed. Mordred shook himself.

"...What? What is so funny? Answer me, brother."

"Morgan Pendragon." Artoria unsheathed Excalibur as Morgan's eyes narrowed. "I'm not even mad that you're still alive."

"...Yeah. Yeah!" Mordred's grin returned, and he brandished Clarent, letting the sparks fly from its blade. "We've got some shit to work through."

Morgan glared, but soon a smile appeared on her face as well. "I am sorry, is the cat in a cradle? Here."

She gripped her staff tightly in both hands. Her eyes widened, the whites of them glowing a pale light that nearly drowned out her pupils. The smile grew into a nightmarish grin.

"Let me put you into a grave."

[guardians-of-chaldea]

A World Without Light

(1/?)

It was a day like any other.

Carina spent her time evenly with the Servants of Chaldea.

Snuggling with Mashu.

Wyvern hunting with the Alters.

Even spending time with Servants that weren't her own; she spent a lot of time teaching Eli how to sing.

It was a day like any other.

Artoria (Alter) was walking down the hall, heading to the cafeteria. She passed by the small studio room; a light by the door meant that someone was recording something inside. She thought nothing of it as she passed... but then she heard a voice inside.

Farewell... to all the earthly remains.

She stopped. Was that... Carina, in there? With a guitar, even? She turned back to the door.

No burdens... no further debts to be paid.

She stepped closer. Closer. She pressed her ear against the door.

Atlas... can rest his weary bones.

The weight of the world...

...all falls away...

...in time.

The song ended. Artoria felt... something. A desire to hear more? No. No. She shook the thought out of her head. What did she care if her Master was doing something like this? It wasn't fighting. She had no interest. She stepped back and continued to walk.

It was a day like any other.

But those words she heard would be branded into her mind for longer than she realized.

—————

Mash entered the deployment room. Carina stood in the center, her back turned, facing the light of Chaldeas.

"...S...Senpai?"

No response. Mash stepped closer.

"...You... wanted to see me?"

Silence.

Mash put her hand on Carina's shoulder. She felt a deep breath rise within her.

Finally, Carina spoke.

"...This is what we've worked for."

"...Huh...?"

"This is what we've fought so hard to protect."

Mash stepped up to Carina's side. Her eyes shone with the light of a thousand stars.

"And not because we're agents of some deity, nor because someone told us to." Carina continued. "We were given all the power in the world... and despite the way we've been treated, we chose to use that power for good."

Mash's hand reached over to touch Carina's, but she found it balled into a tight, shivering fist. "S-Senpai?"

"We chose to be good. We, as humans, chose to be good." Carina blinked the stardust out of her eyes. "This really is a world worth preserving."

Mash said nothing. She too gazed up at Chaldeas. But Carina looked over to her.

"...I'm going to be gone for a while."

Mash's eyes immediately shot back down to look at Carina. "W-What?"

"I said I'm..." There was hesitance in her voice. "...I'm going to be away for a while."

"W-Why?" Mash's voice raised. "Where are you going? Why can't you take us with you? Where are you going?? Why???"

"Oh, Mash..." Mash was pulled into a tight hug. "I want so badly to be able to tell you everything. But I can't. All I can say is that I'm needed somewhere else. In another world. Multiple other worlds."

"Then take us with you!!" Mash wrapped her arms around Carina and held her as tightly as she could.

"Mash..." Carina's voice was but a whisper. "...can you hear them?"

"...Eh?"

"I said, can you hear them?" Carina repeated. "The billions upon billions that we've fought to protect, all praying to the unseen for but a few breaths more. Each of them wishing, whether they know it or not, to see the sun come up again. Can you hear them?"

"I—" Mash didn't have an answer, but the silence grew. "...I... I can't."

Carina made a small noise in response.

"...Then I'm afraid you aren't ready."

—————

"Hey, anyone seen Ritsuka anywhere?"

Mordred poked his head into the rec room. Jeanne and Artoria were sma— playing Smash. Cat was laying on the back of the couch as usual. Mash and Medusa sat in the corner, sipping from two vastly different drinks.

"...Mash, you always know where she is. Fact that you're not saying anything is kinda su—"

"A-About that..." Mash set her drink down and stood up. "...there's... something that you all should know."

—————

"...I can't stop you, can I?"

Mash and Carina stood before a portal Carina had opened. The world was desolate beyond it.

"I'm afraid not."

Mash squeezed Carina's hand. They stood there in silence for a moment.

—————

"...She's... gone." Mash let out.

Jeanne paused the game. Mordred stepped inside.

"...What do you mean, she's gone?"

"I-I mean..."

—————

"You're going to be okay. We've been through so much together... it's time we learn to be strong on our own."

"B-But I can't! Senpai, I—"

"Mash, do you think I want to leave you?"

Mash froze. Starlight welled up in Carina's eyes again.

"I have to go. They need me out there. Just..." Her hand gently came up to Mash's cheek. She wiped the tear in Mash's eye away with her thumb. "...promise me... promise me you'll try to be strong. ...Can you do that?"

"I..."

Mash was struggling to not look away.

—————

"So where is she? Mash, where the hell is she!?"

"I-I don't know...!!"

"She didn't tell you anything!? And you just let her go!? SERIOUSLY!?"

"I-I... I...!!" Mash whimpered. Her lip began to quiver as the tears formed in her eyes.

"Mordred, enough. Get away from her."

Mordred turned back to face Artoria. Her sword was out, flaring its dark aura.

"...That's our Master, Alter. She's out god-knows-where, doing god-knows-what, and we can't do a thing about it. She could be bleeding out as we speak, and we'll never know. She could be—"

"Don't say it." Artoria hissed.

"SHE COULD BE DEAD, ALTER."

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT." The sword flared more violently, sparks of black and white clashing with flames of purple and red.

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT SHE ISN'T." Clarent went off as well, the scarlet lightning crackling and roaring.

"Everyone just shut up." The two Sabers looked back at Mash. Someone stood beside her. A man of her height and build, but with spikier, rougher hair, and paler, deader eyes. "You know I hate doing this. You know I hate being here. But if you think letting everything out in this room is a good idea, I will slaughter you all. Don't fucking test me."

Mordred glared at him for a while before his sword stopped crackling.

"Fine. Can't expect any of you to care that much, anyway."

"Mordred—"

He stormed out of the room.

—————

"...One day... I shall be back."

Carina stood at the portal alone, now. Mash stood a distance away.

"Yes... I shall be back. Until then, you must have no regrets. Hold no fears, nor anxieties. Just go forth with your beliefs, Mash... and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine."

"I..." Mash breathed in. "I-I can do that. I'll... I'll do my best."

Suddenly someone poked through the portal. A girl in a leather jacket, with blonde pigtails and a single (visible) blue eye (the other was under an eyepatch).

"You ready to go?"

Carina nodded, and looked back at Mash.

"...Goodbye, Mashu.

And good luck."

—————

Jeanne threw her pillow aside, uncovering the journal she kept underneath. She tore the scale from the ribbon bookmark.

"Hey. Wish-Dragon. I know you're there."

That I am. Your [desires] are so strong this time, o bearer mine. I can taste them from here. And I can give you exactly what you need, if you think the [risk] is worth it.

"Yeah, sure, whatever!" Jeanne's voice rose. "If you know what I want, then just give it to me! I don't care how it works, just..." Jeanne's expression softened for a moment, but hardened again, as if she caught herself. "...Just... let me bring her back."

She pressed the scale into her palm, until its thorns cut into her skin.

In blood, an oath is made... o bearer mine.

Suddenly a nightmarish pain coursed through Jeanne's body. It paralyzed her to her core. She wanted to scream, but found that there was no air left in her lungs. The walls seemed like they were closing in. Everything went red. She couldn't move. She was choking. She was burning. She was—

In a sudden surge of energy, Jeanne found the strength to scream.

Her body went limp for a moment, but she caught herself, the scale dropping to the floor, the blood still dripping from her hand. She stood, though the upper half of her body was still limp, her arms hanging in front of her.

Slowly, her body shifted, until she was forced into her Berserker form, but her katanas didn't form with her. Instead, one lone blade materialized in her bleeding hand; blood red, longer than any katana she'd seen before, and at its edge was an infinite blackness that seemed sharp enough to cut all of reality.

She rose, standing straight. She stared at this new blade. Everything was still red. The walls shifted and reflected things that weren't there. The shadows grew and grew until there was no light left to cast them.

Jeanne turned toward the door, holding the edge of reality at her side.

A small smile formed on her lips. It grew as well, until she was baring fangs she didn't know she had in a psychotic grin.

A giggle. A laugh. A howl into the night.

Jeanne would bring her Master home.

No matter who she had to carve her way through to do it.

It was a day like any other.