How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)

Of course, things went horribly wrong almost immediately.

'What do you mean the trees won't burn?' I send frantically.

'It rained last night and the wood's still thoroughly hydrated. Right now, the forest's about as flammable as asbestos.' Yan sends back, his irritation quite thoroughly evident.

'Dammit. Hold on for a change in orders.' I turn to Drake. "We have a problem. The trees won't ignite. We'll need to revise our strategy."

"Damn." he growls. "We only have four hours until sundown, Flynn, figure something out!"

Right, right. 'Yan Qing? Can you punch the trees hard enough to make them go away?'

'I guess?'

'Right. Do that.' I command. 'Cursed Arm, it's your job to track down and kill escapees. No survivors.' We do not need any trolls doubling back to follow us.

"All right." I say to Drake. "I managed to work out a substitute. We're good to go."

The plan is fundamentally simple. The Assassins destroy their escape route behind them, while a spearhead of Servants presses in to crush them. Left with only the options of death by sunlight or death by Servant, the enemy will be completely exterminated.

But first...

'Georgios, you are free to give them the chance to surrender.'

'Thank you for letting me do this, Master.' he sends back, already entering the outskirts of the troll encampment's perimeter.

I don't honestly have much hope of a peaceful solution. But still, you never know.

'Bloodaxe refused on their behalf.' Georgios sends back after a few minutes. 'Backup would be greatly appreciated, he's a formiddable opponent.'

'It's on its way,' I send back, before switching to a general broadcast. 'All Servants, commence operation.'

I turn to Drake. "We're starting." He nods, and then starts barking orders to his crew.

Vlad, Xuanzangf and Tamamo lead the charge, clearing a sunlit corridor through the forest by toppling every tree in their way. In the distance, I see more trees begin to topple as Yan Qing starts his own foray into the exciting world of clear-cutting.

"All right! Follow them!" Drake bellows, and his men charge in after my Servants, Elizabeth leading the charge. He follows after, leaving me to guard the ship with only a skeleton crew and Galahad for company.

"You know, you just sent them off to risk their lives, while you stay behind," Galahad observes.

"Is there a point to this?"

"Just making sure you're aware of your cowardice." he says with a grin.

"I'm sure that all you bold, shiny knights probably don't remember this, what with all the brain damage from honorably bashing each other over the head and all that, but us squishy normal people without oodles of combat training and superhuman durability have what we like to call 'a sense of self-preservation' and 'common sense.'" I shoot back. "And I'm sorry if they disagree with your knightly sensibilities."

"Oh!" Galahad replies, clapping his hands together with a thoroughly feigned expression of joy. "So that's what this modern 'chain of command' thing I keep hearing about is! Truly, you're just so very much more advanced than us uncivilized barbarians! Really, we're just so backwards, what with our commanders going out and fighting on the front lines, instead of just sitting back and sending in the, what did you call them again? Ah, yes, the 'cannon fodder' to fight and die for them! Truly, you absolute paragons of egalitarianism and efficiency are the gold standard to emulate, here."

"Oh, wow," I shoot back, legitimately irritated. "Such a rousing defense of the masses, from a feudal lord. Tell me, how are those serfs of yours-"

"Will you two SHUT THE FUCK UP?" one of the remaining crewmembers shouts at us.

Both Galahad and I take a step back from our previous position of shouting at each others faces and awkwardly turn away from each other.

"How's the battle going?" he asks after a few minute's silence.

"Well enough. Assassin's line of deforestation is nearly complete. Hassan's already picked off five stragglers. The frontal assault is already nearing the enemy camp."

"So, things are going... according to plan."

"I'm as braced for the imminent catastrophe as you are."

---​

In the end, the thing we didn't see coming was the troll warrens beneath the forest.

"So they've all retreated?" I ask Drake.

"Aye. Bloodaxe fell, but we can't follow them in. They're too well entrenched, we've only got an hour before nightfall."

"Anything useful recovered?" I ask, desperate for this to not have been a wash.

"A few nautical charts, with a destination clearly marked."

"Well, at least we have a new heading, then." I mutter. "We destroy all their ships and take off. Sound good, Sir?"

"Aye."

The troll ships, low-slung canoes that most closely resemble hollowed-out trees, are all destroyed, and we set off as the sun begins to set, chasing after an unknown lead.

And as we sail, I pray to God that leaving those trolls alive won't come back to bite us somehow.

 

"This is it?" I ask Drake, looking out over the unnamed island that the charts guided us to.

"Aye," Elizabeth says for him, looking overjoyed as she surveys the place, a green, grass-coated and lush little isle whose greenery browns and fades away as it approaches the island's heart, and the ornate stone entrance that we can see even from the ship. "An island of adventure."

"Or of a variety of unpleasant tropical diseases that will lead to you dying in horrific agony," Drake counters, looking over the little insula with suspicion. "I don't like the looks of this place. And especially not of that door."

"Do you just hate fun?" Elizabeth asks, pouting at him.

"Of course. Fun is how they lull you into complacency so they can shanghai you into the navy." Drake replies, still stonefaced.

"Oh come on, Francis, let it go! Live a little!" Elizabeth replies, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "I mean, when was the last time you just cut loose and enjoyed yourself?"

"Around twenty years ago." he replies, his face giving off impression of a cliff.

"And what did it cost you?"

"I'm still in the navy."

Elizabeth pouts and storms off, leaving me and Drake alone at the helm.

"So. What's your assessment, Master of Chaldea?" he asks, turning to where I stood, and jolting me out of my spectatorship.

"It's obviously a trap. At the same time, though, it's just about our only lead." I sigh. "I'll have to take some precautions."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I might swap out one of my Servants for one more skilled in underground exploration. And I'm definitely having Xuanzang put a Bounded Field over the Golden Hind."

"Sensible." He stares at the island for a bit longer. "Elizabeth wants to go with you."

"Seems in-character for her." I note, already having an inkling of where this is going.

"If she dies on your watch, I will make what little time is left before history collapses an unending Hell for you, am I clear?" he asks, shooting me a glare that leaves me thoroughly convinced of his sincerity.

"Crystal."

---​

Leaving Xuanzang and Vlad on the Hind to guard our escape route, our intrepid band sets out. It's me, Elizabeth, Galahad, both Assassins, Georgios, and Tamamo,

Along the way, however, I have Galahad set up a Summoning Circle, and we use the link to Chaldea to exchange Servants. Tamamo temporarily returns to Chaldea (and I have to repeatedly reassure her that I wasn't mad at her or disappointed with her in any way and that I'd call her back to my side as soon as possible) and in her place I call in Asterios. I haven't spent much time with him in the past, but I think he's just happy to be of some help.

And so, we move on into the obvious trap.

---​

"This... feels... familiar..." Asterios says as we step into the cave, his voice a gentle rumble.

"How so?" I ask. Both Assassins are using their Presence Concealment in order to gain the advantage of surprise, leaving Elizabeth and me flanked by Georgios and Galahad, with Asterios taking point.

This place... it feels... cramped. I'm not a claustrophobe, but this feels like the kind of place that could make one of me. The dim, unlit corridors are all uniform, perfectly rectangular, and just a few inches wider and broader, enough that Asterios can comfortably walk through them. The borders of the floor and the walls are decorated ornately in the Minoan style, a repeating motif of interlocking, blocky spirals.

"It feels... like... Labyrinth." the huge Berserker replies.

"Damn." All right, time to think. "Can it be safely navigated by anyone other than you?" 'Cursed Arm. Yan Qing. Break off scouting operations and return to our side at once.'

"No." he answers, a verdict that my two Assassins' increasing confusion at their inability to find their way back seems to support.

"How does this place work, then?" I ask. It's starting to sound like this particular maze might work like its Percy Jackson incarnation, and that would be... worrying.

"Most mazes... two dimensions," Asterios begins, his brusqueness refreshing. "Some... three. Labyrinth... six."

"How the hell does that work?" Elizabeth snaps, beginning to look panicked.

Asterios shrugs. "Ask... Daedalus. I just... lived here."

"Right, then." I call. "Since we're not in Greece, or at least I think we're not in Greece, the Labyrinth's presence probably means that another version of you got summoned here."

Asterios nods. "I will... lead... to him."

---​

Asterios' navigation is... somewhat confusing, in all honesty. Sometimes he has us double back the way we came, other times to wait for seemingly random amounts of time in order to proceed, and once or twice he made us follow him as he scaled a wall.

But, all the same, it worked. We finally emerge into a broad chamber, and at the chamber's heart... stands another Asterios.

The two Berserkers stare at each other for a moment.

"Who... are you?" Labyrinth Asterios grunts.

"Asterios," My Asterios also grunts, and oh, god, the entire conversation is going to go at this exact pace, isn't it? Fuck.

"I am… also Asterios." Labyrinth Asterios replies. "Have you come... to hurt... Euryale?"

My Asterios shakes his head. "No... I come... because Master... asked me to."

"And does he... want... to hurt her?" Labyrinth Asterios asks, with a slow, protective intensity.

Wait… Euryale? The other Gorgon sister? Are she and Labyrinth Asterios a thing? That's weird, but... oh shit I had Vlad kill her sister.

"No," My Asterios replies, completely ignorant of my inner panic. "He is harsh... but he is not cruel. He is... a good person. Although... he was busy.... and could not afford... any trouble... he never... treated me... like the Minotaur." Asterios grins, and I feel like he just punched me in the gut. "He was... kind to me." Asterios, please, I can only handle so much guilt. "He always... called me Asterios… and he even... let me see... the sun."

So this is what being lower than pond scum feels like. Galahad, for his part, is giving me a smug look, and I have to tamp down the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face.

"And why... is he here?" Labyrinth Asterios asks, his face softening.

"To end... the Singularity... and save... the world."

"Asterios," a young voice calls out, and both versions of Pasiphae's son turn to look at the speaker. "I think we can trust them."

She looks just like Stheno, with purple hair and a slender, childish frame. And, apparently she's unaware of the fact that I called her sister a child prostitute to her face before having her tortured and killed, something for which I can only thank my lucky stars.

"Cease your ogling, worm," the goddess Euryale commands, glaring at me imperiously.

"Apologies, milady," I reply, looking away. Really hoping that 'milady' is a sufficiently deferential title for a goddess. "You greatly resemble your sister. The sight brought back painful memories."

"You've encountered Stheno?" Euryale asks, her interest piqued. "Where? How was she?"

"It was in the previous Singularity, milady. She was killed by the Emperor Tiberius."

Euryale looks crestfallen at that, before composing herself. "Well, it's to be expected, after all. We're Servants. Life is short and brief for the likes of us."

"Wise words, milady. If you would join us, we have a ship waiting in the harbor."

She pauses. and then nods. "Just know that if you try anything, Asterios will rip you to shreds."

"Wouldn't dream of it, milady."

 

"Thank you for the work you did, buddy." I say as we prepare to swap out Asterios with Tamamo.

"It was... my... pleasure." Asterios rumbles, nodding along as he steps onto the shield. Not a single complaint about being sidelined.

"Yeah." I say, tamping down the surge of guilt rising up in my gut. When I get back to Chaldea, he's off the monitoring list. And I'm getting him a fruit basket or... something. I'll work out the details later.

Asterios vanishes in a column of light, and Tamamo take his place.

"Master! Master! Are you all right? Did everything go fine? I was worried something might happen while I was gone!" she asks in a rush, bowling me over and checking me frantically.

"I'm fine, Tamamo," I groan from beneath her. "Or at least I was before you tackled me."

She flushes and helps me up, babbling apologies.

"As for what happened, we met another Asterios, and the goddess Euryale." I tell her, then sigh at her blank expression. "The sister of Medusa and Stheno."

She frowns. "Wait, didn't you-"

I slap a hand over her mouth before she can say anything. 'If Euryale asks, Stheno was killed by the Emperor Tiberius. NOT ME.'

"Right!" she agrees cheerfully, although her smile seems a little forced. "I'll remember that!"

As she goes off, Galahad snorts at my side.

'Do you really think that your deception will hold?'

'No, but I pray that it will.'

And then I sigh, and start off towards the Hind.

---​

"So this is the ship that will take us on our way," Euryale mutters. "Very well. I suppose it's adequate."

Drake raises an eyebrow at me as I join him at the helm. "And the little girl is..."

"The Gorgon Euryale." I say in reply, slightly relishing how his eyes bug out and he frantically looks back at the goddess walking about on the deck.

"But she's..." he looks absolutely gobsmacked.

"I'm fairly sure that she has some sort of divine glamour up, an illusion." I inform him. "Of course, I might be wrong who knows?"

"But…" Drake still looks stunned. "That's... Athena cursed her and her sisters because Medusa was raped in her temple, are you telling me that Euryale was a child when that happened?"

"No, I'm increasingly sure that Ovid just made that part up because he was an absolute cauldron of bubbling resentment over his banishment. I think that the original origin ascribed to them, monstrous children of Ceto and siblings of Echidna, is more accurate." I reply, noting that Euryale seems to have caught the tail-end of our conversation and is heading up towards us.

"Close, but not quite, Master of Chaldea," Euryale replies somewhat smugly. She's using Asterios' shoulder as a booster chair so she can talk to us from the deck below. "My sisters and I were unlike the other gods. We were born of the desires of men, immortal and flawless, worshipped by all. The gods grew jealous of this, particularly Athena, jealous shrew that she was, and so when our ugly little sister Medusa was born, Athena took the chance to turn the people against us, forcing us onto the Shapeless Isle and sending heroes after us to slay us. Meduseless defended us, as is only proper, but eventually she decided that the best way to keep us safe was to eat us."

Drake raises an eyebrow. "Interesting defensive strategy."

"To be fair, she wasn't entirely sane at the time," Euryale says. "And, after she died, we emerged from her stomach safe and sound, with the entire world thinking us dead. No one bothered us again until we had faded from the world, so I suppose she was good for something in the end."

I decide to keep my doubts about her reliability as a narrator to myself, and besides me, Drake seems to do the same.

"Well," Drake says after a moment, "Don't cause trouble and do your part, and we'll get along fine. Clear?"

"Very much so." Euryale agrees, preening. "I have no doubt that my peerless beauty will inspire your crew to new heights."

Oh, God. Drake and I exchange an uncomfortable glance, before I nut up and deliver the bad news. "Um... Euryale, I hate to tell you this, but.... Societal standards of beauty have changed a great deal since Ancient Greece."

"What?" Euryale snaps, her eyebrow arched in confusion. "But I have all the standards of beauty! Smooth skin, a slender, childlike frame..."

"That's kind of the problem actually."

"Explain."

"You look like a child, and my sincerest apologies for stating that, but it's the truth, and in modern society, the idea of having a relationship with someone that young is... frowned upon." Drake coughs, and I elaborate. "Severely. As in, it might be illegal, and people definitely look down on anyone who'd do that."

Euryale falls silent, before saying, in a slightly shaky tone. "I... believe I need to sit down for a spell. Asterios, take me belowdecks."

That… really went about as well as it could have.

Suddenly, the lookout calls down from the crow's nest, "Ship off to starboard! It flies the black flag!"

Drake whip out his spyglass, and turn to look at it as...

Oh. Jesus God Almighty.

The formerly French man o'war sails towards us at a steady pace, its sails full on the wind. It's bigger and broader than the Hind, and flies a black flag, although I can't make out the details. And it's swarming with pirates.

"Is that... Blackbeard's?" Drake mutters, his voice thick with dread. "You didn't tell me he had a man o'war."

"Probably should have mentioned that, aye."

"How many men? How many guns?"

"Up to three hundred in crew, and forty cannons." I mutter. "And she's a Noble Phantasm, while the Hind isn't, so our cannons might not be able to damage her."

"That's... not promising." Drake observes.

From the dread ship, a voice thunders, a man, his face lit by the fuses dangling from his broad tricorne hat, standing at the helm of the great beast of a ship and bellowing, "GIVES US YOUR LOLIS OR YOUR LIVES!"

I am way too sober for this.

 

"Drake, can we go any faster?" I shout as I cower behind Galahad. A bullet pings off his shield as the enemy sniper takes yet another shot at me.

"No!" the good captain snaps, as yet another volley of cannon slams into the Hind. "They're shredding us!"

"Son of a-" a splintered shard of wood from the planking embeds itself right next to my foot. "Right. We need to get away!"

"We can't! The ship's been damaged so badly, we're losing speed!" Drake snaps. "And we've already lost an eighth of our crew!"

"Francis! They're three hundred yards out!" Elizabeth warns, firing at our pursuers over the stern with her Grail-empowered pistols before ducking back down.

"Shit!" he growls, before looking straight at me. "Flynn, time for a Hail Mary. If your Servants can do something, now's the time!"

Let me think, who'd be best suited to... oh. That works. 'Xuanzang, can you make a storm between us and the enemy?'

'Yes!'

'Then start chanting.' I turn to Drake. "Brace for a storm!"

"The Hell are you talking about? The sky's clear!" As he says that, Xuanzang's voice rings out, and black clouds begin to swirl above our heads. "This your doing?"

"Yes!"

"This could kill us!" he bellows, eyes wide. "The Hind's damaged, she can't take a squall!"

"Compared to having to live knowing you lost to that," I point at Blackbeard, who's still babbling in leetspeak. "is death really that bad an option?"

"Fair enough. All hands brace for a squall!"

The winds start up, lashing the waves, as, with a flash of thunder, the skies begin to weep.

God, I hope this works.

---​

"On the bright side, we're alive and free," I offer up in consolation.

"You! Crashed! MY! SHIP!" Drake roars, his hands squeezing tighter around my throat.

"We…. can... fix... it..." I choke out, and that prompts Drake to release me.

"How?" he asks, his anger now held in check.

The Golden Hind rests on her side, masts snapped like twigs and the starboard side of its hull, which it landed on, caved in like an eggshell. Drake and I were both tossed clear when she crashed on shore, and landed fairly close to each other.

"Servants, remember?" I offer up. "some of the Casters have the Item Creation skill. We can rebuild the Hind to stand toe to toe with the Revenge and win."

He looks about. "I'm not seeing any of your Servants here, Flynn."

"Well, we only just washed up. They probably did, too. Let's look around before we jump to any hasty conclusions."

"At least half my crew is dead or overboard, Flynn. Whatever you come up with, it had better be good."

As we make our way back to the ship, a massive hand punches through the upwards-facing port side of the hull, and Asterios pulls himself through, Euryale clinging to his back.

"What on Earth happened, Master of Chaldea?" she snaps as she sees me.

"We were attacked by the pirate Blackbeard after you headed belowdecks, and had to take desperate measures to escape." I summarize.

"So he is still after me," she murmurs. Wait, what? She knew?

"Yes," Drake growls. "Which would have been nice to know before we took you aboard."

"I have a right to my privacy, Captain," she replies with a dainty sniff. "And beyond that, it is far from the place of mortals to question a goddess such as myself."

Drake pulls a gun on her, and Asterios steps protectively between them. "I just lost my ship, my crew, and my queen because we took you aboard, young lady. I do not have time for your shit."

"Francis!" somebody shouts, and suddenly Drake is on the ground, tackled by an overjoyed Queen Elizabeth. "Oh, thank God you're alive!"

She looks considerably worse for the wear. Her hair is thick with seawater, as are her clothes, and I don't think I've ever seen a woman look more thoroughly exhausted. Galahad follows her, looking equally pained.

"Flynn." he says with a nod, which I return.

"The other Servants?"

"We have survived, my Master," Cursed Arm announces, and I jump as he de-astralizes behind me. "Although some of us may be delayed for some time."

"Right," I say, and my plans begin to unfold in my mind. "Alright. We need to rally, swap out a Servant or two, and repair the Hind. Cursed Arm, you're on Search and Rescue. Find the other Servants, and the sailors scattered in the storm, and bring them back here. Galahad, you're with me."

I get two nods in return, and then I send off a mental message to all my Servants. 'All surviving Servants, sound off.'

'Georgios here. My armor dragged me down, it'll take a while to get back to you, even in Astral Form.'

'Solid work, Georgios, I await your return.'

Vlad gives me much the same report, and the other Servants give me essentially identical messages: alive, returning to you.

But Yan Qing, on the other hand...

'Yan Qing. I got fished out of the water by Blackbeard's crew.'

'Are you alright?'

'They haven't figured out I'm a Servant thanks to my Presence Concealment. They just think I'm one of Drake's sailors, and they basically pressganged me.'

'Stay where you are, keep up your cover, and gather intel. I'll expect a report in twelve hours.'

I turn to Drake, who's disentangled himself from Elizabeth's relieved grasp. "Good news. All Servants are accounted for, and we've got a man on the inside of Blackbeard's crew."

"Good. So. What the next stage in your plan?"

"I wait until a few more servants get here, and then I summon up our shipwright." I pause. "Hey, Roman?"

"Yes?" the good doctor answers, as his holographic form flares into life.

"Prep Medea for transfer."

 

"So. This is goodbye for now?" Xuanzang asks as she steps onto Galahad's shield, looking me in the eye.

"Only for now," I reassure her, as the light start up. "We couldn't have made it this far without you, Xuanzang. Thank you."

"Okay!" she cheers. "I'll do my very best to support you up in Chaldea! And if you need me-"

"I won't hesitate to call you back in." She smiles, as the light springs up and bears her away.

The Caster who replaces her, however, is of a far more dour disposition.

"Medea. Welcome aboard." I say in greeting. "Are you fit to begin duty?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Certainly, my Master. And, what, pray tell, would this duty be?"

"Roman may not have seen fit to inform you, but the Golden Hind has crashed, and is currently heavily damaged." I point to the ship in question, still lying on her collapsed side and creaking in a deep, pained voice that makes my heart contract with worry. "We need to repair her, and to upgrade her to the point where she can engage a Noble Phantasm and win."

"And you came to me? The Witch of Betrayal?" she asks, her voice a throaty purr as she arches her eyebrow at me. "Such trust can be... fatally misguided."

"Mm. Well, you're the closest thing to a shipwright we've got, and it's not like humanity's going to be any more doomed than it already is if you decide to screw us over for some reason." I turn my back to her as I fully face the Hind. A test of her loyalty, or at least the thickness of her skin.

She laughs. "You're an honest one, aren't you?"

"Far from it. But I don't see much point in lying to you." I nod at the ship. "So. Can you do it?"

"Perhaps." She moves to stand beside me, her eyes sweeping over the Hind in all her broken glory. "How many do we have in crew, and what materials can you offer me?"

"We've managed to rescue and recover thirty-nine of Drake's men." I inform her. "We're still searching, but... well, our success rate at finding them alive is dropping." Drake took every man found with the joy and relief of a father greeting his prodigal son, and every body that washed up on the shore like a bereaved parent. He's still keeping up his stern mien, but anyone who knows him can see how hard he's taking it. Elizabeth hasn't left his side since they reunited. "As for materials, well..." I wave at the forest that starts about sixty feet from the shore. "I've also received reports of wyverns in the area."

"I can do this, then." Medea assures me. "Within three days."

"Impressive."

"I will set up my territory, and summon my dragon tooth warriors to carry out the construction, but I will require your assistance to gather supplies, particularly the bodies of the wyverns."

"Very well, Princess Medea. I'll rally the troops, and we'll work to fulfill your requests."

She smirks, her eyes, hidden beneath her hood.

Drake's at the firepit we set up, Elizabeth at his side, still staring at the wreck of the Hind. His hands dance as he cleans his set of pistols, for perhaps the seventeenth time since the day began. He turns to me as I approach, eyes dark pits over purple bags, demanding attention, even if not quite the same absolute respect and authority as before.

"Flynn. Another survivor, or another body?"

"Neither, Captain. We summoned our shipwright. She thinks she can fix the Hind in three days, if we can get her the right supplies."

"'She?'" Francis repeats, an eyebrow raised. "I know of few legendary shipwrights, none of which were women. Who is she?"

Right, time for the hard part. "Medea of Colchis."

Elizabeth recognizes the name before Drake. "But she-"

"I know. Killed her children, tricked her host's daughters to make them kill their father, and murdered her own brother, not in that order." I rattle off. "But she's a top-rate Caster, and a pretty good jack-of-all-trades as far as spellcasting is concerned. Beyond that, she hasn't given me cause to mistrust her thus far, and has been vital to Chaldea's successes. Without her aid, we would most likely not be standing here today."

"So you're saying she can be trusted?" Drake asks, his eyes searching. "With the repair of the Hind? With the lives of my crew?"

I sigh. I never thought I would say this, and I hope to God on high that I won't come to regret it, but, in response to that, what else can I say? "Yes. She's given me no reason to doubt her, so I can only say we should trust her."

Some deep inside me is screaming that this is a mistake and trusting the murderous psychopath will only end in tragedy, but I take a deep breath, and silence my paranoia.

"All right then." Drake says, standing up. "You've convinced me. What does she need?"

"Lumber and wyverns."

"The first is manageable. The second..."

"My team can handle that."

"Well." He looks me dead in the eye, and then claps me on the shoulder. "Let's get to it, then."

 

Two days, and the Hind's repairs are going well.

"Twenty-seven wyverns," I note, looking at the hunting party's catch. "Impressive."

"Thank you, Master," Georgios says, a serene smile on his face. "I'm happy to be of help. We've killed a great many wyverns, these past few days. We should be on guard. The dragon that spawned them is likely to take notice."

"What?" I ask, eyes wide.

"You didn't know?" Georgios asks, eyebrow raised. "Wyverns are the larval stage of dragons. Dragons birth wyverns, which then, after consuming enough time and mana, grow to become dragons themselves. It's quite fascinating, really."

"There's a dragon here?" I yelp.

"It's the only viable explanation for the number of wyverns," Georgios notes clinically.

"You can take it, right?"

"Most likely, yes."

"All right then." I turn to go and talk to Medea about today's haul, when an arrow whistles past my ear.

"So you're the one behind these trespassers," a women's voice rings out, as Georgios, and Cursed Arm all scramble to locate the shooter. "Count yourself lucky, mortal. If I had not been reunited with my beloved recently, I would have turned you all to deer and fed you to my hounds for hunting without making offerings to me. As it stands, however, I shall permit you to live, and perhaps even grant you aid upon your journey, in exchange for you performing a single, simple task."

I clear my throat uncomfortably, looking at the quivering arrow embedded in the ground behind me. "Ah- I suppose we do have an opening in our schedules." I have a bad feeling about who this is.

"Very well. Then, I, Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, charge you to find my dearest Orion and bring him to me." Yep. And, wait, Orion? Huh. Guess things weren't as platonic between those two as I thought they were.

"As you would have it, Lady Artemis. May I ask that you describe him, so that we may know him on sight?"

"Oh! Sure thing!" the goddess agrees, her voice taking on a distinctly more bubbly tone. "My darling's normally so big and muscly and handsome, even if his eye wanders a bit too freely, but right now, he's really small, and looks like a bear, but it's like, a really cute bear, and he's just so soft, and huggable, and eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!"

Wait, why is she talking like that? I feel my stomach drop slightly. "So, like a teddy bear."

"Yes!" she agrees from up in the tree line. "I thought it was just the cutest thing ever, so I turned him into one when I hijacked his summon! That way, it's impossible for him to cheat on me!"

Oh God no.

"Ah, and when we find him, how should we return him to you, milady?" I ask, trying to tamp down my growing horror.

"Oh! I'll search with you!" she calls out, dropping from the treeline.

She's... oh God. Busty, silvery-blond, and dressed in an absurdly revealing dress. I wanna go home. But no, home is on fire, and it's not going to stop being on fire until I man up and fix it.

So I put on a straight face and invite her back to our camp so we can better plan our search. Georgios looks just as completely flabbergasted as me, while Cursed Arm just seems amused at our reactions.

On the subject of Servants... 'Attention all Servants. I have agreed, under slight duress, to help the goddess Artemis find her perverted teddy bear boyfriend.' What the hell has my life become?

After an uncomfortable silence, Vlad tentatively sends back, 'Master? Are you all right?'

'I feel like I just died a little on the inside, but other than that, I'm fine.'

'I might have found your target.' Medea sends, her mental voice carrying an undercurrent of laughter. 'He tried his luck on Queen Elizabeth.'

'Oh god. Is he alive? If he's dead, Artemis will literally kill me, Medea.'

'Alive, humiliated, and restrained. Drake shot him, and he's currently tied up with his wounds bandaged.'

All right, then. "Lady Artemis, excellent news. My Servants in the camp already found him."

She squeals in a pitch that no human mouth should ever reach, and I quietly resign myself to this living hell.

"Oy! Flynn!" Elizabeth calls as she comes greet us, a bottle of some sort of grog in her hand. "Do you know what that creature who tried to jump on my chest was?"

I steal her bottle.

 

The rebuilt Golden Hind slides into the water, and a chorus of cheers rings out.

Medea designed the hull with two layers, and inner layer of wooden planking, and an outer layer of wyvern bone, both enchanted so that they would repair and heal like the skin of a living creature, neatly dodging the absolute nightmare that repairing it would become. The entire ship was retrofitted, sleek and powerful, and with an overwhelming power and grace that showed in its every line.

"The entire ship now functions as a Mystic Code," Medea notes as Drake inspects his new ship, the tour wrapping up as we ascend to the helm. "Not precisely as strong as a Noble Phantasm like Blackbeard's, but it's in the neighborhood."

Elizabeth walks at Drake's side, and I follow three paces behind them.

"Thank you," Drake says, his voice soft as he runs his disbelieving hands over the polished wood of the steering wheel. "You gave me my ship back."

Medea actually pauses at that, looking slightly surprised, before she recovers. "It was nothing, really. My Master commanded me, and I simply followed orders."

"All the same, if you ever need anything, ask."

Elizabeth grins. at his side, and I pick up the cue. "So, Captain Drake, I'd say this calls for a celebration."

"Fine." He grunts, his mouth twitching ever so-slightly upwards. "I suppose, if I must."

"I'll take my leave, then," Medea says softly, only to blink in confusion as both Queen and Captain turn to look at her.

"Why?" Elizabeth asks, looking honestly confused.

"So I don't interfere with your crew's merriment, or stay where I'm not wanted."

Elizabeth throws an arm over her shoulder and steers her towards the cask of grog. "You saved the Hind, Caster. That makes you one of us!"

And so, Colchis' wayward princess is lead off, mumbling half-hearted protests as Good Queen Liz drags her off to the party. Drake and I watch them go from back on the deck.

"I suppose you made a solid choice with that one," he notes, still running his hands absently over the wheel.

"I suppose so."

"What's your man on the inside been telling you?" Drake asks after a few minutes of silence.

"Assassin says that while Blackbeard plays the part of the incorrigible pervert, and acts like his only goal thus far has been to secure Euryale for... unsavory purposes, he also never leaves an opening for himself to be backstabbed, and is always armed." I list off.

"Does he have other Servants on that ship of his?"

"Three. Anne Bonny and Mary Read, who are apparently a package deal, and Hector of Troy."

"Don't know the first two, but Hector?" Drake winces. "He could be a problem."

"I am well aware."

In the party on the beach, some of my Servants are actually getting into the swing of things, although Artemis, Euryale, and Asterios are holding themselves aloof.

"Senpai!" Gal- no, wait, that's Mash, how'd that happen? calls as she navigates her way up the makeshift dock. "Are you going to join us?"

"What happened to Galahad?" I ask, brows furrowed. Did he quit? Did Mash's body overheat and require cooldown time?

She shrinks a little. "Oh. He decided that since things were pretty peaceful right now, that he could hand over the body to me, so I could see what things were like outside of Chaldea!"

He-

I think I owe Galahad an apology. "How long have you been out?"

"Just the last two days." she frowns. "You didn't notice?"

"No, but I probably should have." I sigh, then turn to Drake. "Captain, do you mind-"

"Go ahead." he says with a nod, still gripping the wheel like it might vanish if he lets go. "Have fun."

"Aye aye, Captain."

And so I set out to join the celebration, and live before we fight anew.

 

"He's getting closer," Drake notes, hands tight around the wheel.

The rebuilt Hind was only out on the water for a day before Blackbeard found us again.

Fortunately, this time I have a plan. And an Archer.

Sending Georgios back wasn't the easiest choice to make, I'll admit, but a mounted knight is functionally useless in this Singularity. Once the wyverns were dealt with and the dragon slain, there was little else he could do to aid us.

The Revenge draws nearer, the slavering madman at her helm. Galahad steps up in order to defend Drake and me, while I send the mental command to begin our counterattack.

The great barrier that restricted our effectiveness in the previous engagement was that all of my Servants specialized in melee combat. Now, though, I fixed that problem.

Blackbeard, waving a cutlass at the helm as he closes in, gives out a great roar of "YOUR WAIFUS OR YOUR-"he stops, staring in astonishment at the arrow currently embedded in his trachea.

'Nice shot, Arash.' I send through the mental link, before ordering aloud, "ARCHERS! OPEN FIRE!"

Arash, Artemis, Euryale, and Elizabeth all open up, their arrows and bullets arcing into the teeming man o'war and felling pirates left and right. Admittedly, Arash and Artemis fell considerably more pirates than Euryale and Elizabeth, but I really wasn't expecting anything else. Against one of the greatest archers to ever live and the literal goddess of archery, just about anyone would fall short.

Of course, they have Servants of their own, as the bullets bouncing off Galahad's shield so adequately prove. Anne Bonny up in the crow's nest as a sniper, and Mary Read on the deck as a swordswoman. And, of course, Hector of Troy, with his legendary Durindana, as Yan has so helpfully informed me.

Needless to say, we have to bog them down quickly, before they can formulate a proper response.

' Tamamo. Vlad. Cursed Arm. Time for phase two.'

They line up on the deck, Tamamo facing Vlad and Vlad with his back to the enemy, his hands out before him like a volleyball player bracing for a serve.

Before they start, though, Tamamo turns to me, a serious look on her face.

"Master."

"Yes?"

"Promise you won't look up my skirt?" ….aaand, mood's gone.

"So, you're fine with everyone else on the deck getting an eyeful?" I ask, gesturing towards the other crewmembers on the deck.

"Well, if they try, I can just claw out their eyes!" she observes cheerfully. "But I could never hurt you. So promise, okay?"

That's... simultaneously sweet and horrifying. "Sure. You have my word."

"Alright then! Let's do this!" and she charges towards Vlad, who manages to remember his part in time. Then, in a move we carefully practiced while the ship was still being repaired, she leaps up, tilting her body so that her feet land on Vlad's crossed hands, and Vlad, putting his A-rank strength on full display, launches her skywards, and towards the Queen Anne's Revenge.

As Tamamo begins her rampage, scattering the already demoralized and decimated pirates like bowling pins, Cursed Arm steps up to the plate.

Once more, his forward charge is transformed into a skyward arc... which ends a few feet short of the Revenge, bonking his head against the planking as he comes down in the sea.

"Lancer?"

"Yes?"

"We're going to need to practice this some more once we get back to Chaldea."

I can't see him very clearly from here, but I think Cursed Arm is flipping us the bird as he scales his way up the side of the ship, completely soaked.

"All right. Boarding party's in, Captain!"

"Very well. MEN! Trim the lines! We're going in closer!"

'Yan. Time to turn your coat.'

On the Revenge, the chaos worsens, as Yan starts accusing other crewmen of being enemy infiltrators and starts an all-out brawl.

I keep my eyes on the redhead in the crow's nest. She's focused on the fighting on the deck, where Mary Read is fighting the rampaging Tamamo as Hector tries to make his way through the crowd to aid her. As I watch, she takes the shot, and a bullet smashes open Tamamo's shoulder, doing little more than anger her.

'Arash. Bonny's distracted. Take the shot.'

His bow thrums, and, without fail, his arrow strikes true, burying itself in Bonny's chest. She topples, dissolving as she falls, and, on the deck, Mary Read stops in shock, already dissolving before Tamamo decapitates her with a swipe of her paw.

Tamamo moves to engage Hector, while Cursed Arm keeps Blackbeard busy, the dread pirate still cursing at us through the mangled remains of his throat. Yan Qing, for his part, finishes off the last human crewman before rushing off to help against Blackbeard.

The fight is almost even, now, although the ranged support taking their shots whenever they get an opening certainly tilts things in our favor.

So, of course, that's when the Hind moves in and opens fire with her cannons, punching a massive rent in the Revenge's hull, as Medea's Dragon Tooth Warriors swarm over the railing and onto the ship, and Vlad jumps over to join them. After all, it's always been my standing policy to never have a fair fight. If the odds aren't massively stacked in your favor, you're not cheating hard enough.

We'd better finish this quickly, though. There's a fog bank rolling in.

"No!" Blackbeard roars, firing his pistol to force Yan back and the retreating to the railing at his ship's stern.

'Yan, Cursed Arm, pull back. He's already barely alive. Let the Dragon Tooth Warriors finish the job.'

I'm close enough to see the despair on his face from where I stand, as he looks on at the seemingly endless army of skeletons who encircle him, and the Servants who await him if he survives the first wave.

And then he laughs, long and hard, his face pulled back in a grin so vicious that it makes me take a step back in fear.

"So this is how it ends!" he bellows, arms wide, eyes twinkling with malice, all but one of the fuses in his hat doused by his own blood. "Dead a second time from treachery, outnumbered and outgunned! Well, to Hell with it! The Devil take the lot of ye, and I'll send as many of you bastards to pave my way before me!" He readies his stance, pistol in one hand, bloodstained hook on the other. "So COME ON!"

"Cool speech, Captain!" Hector comments cheerfully, standing at Blackbeard's side.

Wait, what?

Tamamo and Vlad were supposed to be keeping him busy! How the Hell did he get past them? I look, and they seem just as surprised as I am.

"Me first!" Hector calls, driving his blade into the pirate captain's heart and deftly tearing the Grail out of his belt loop. The fog bank hits just as he dives backwards over the railing, Grail still in hand, leaving my Servants grasping after him in vain.

"Shit." I snarl, already strategizing rapidly. 'Search for him! He can't have gotten very far!'

Actually, with Blackbeard currently face-down in a puddle of his own blood, his Noble Phantasm's going to fade pretty soon. 'Belay that order! Get back to the Hind!'

They file back aboard, although Vlad has to carry Tamamo once the Mad Enhancement shuts off and she's left limping from the injuries she sustained.

And no sooner have they left than the Queen Anne's Revenge fades, letting us see the sleek, lacquered Greek galley that cuts through the fog. At its prow stands a smug-looking blond man, a little girl at his right hand, and Hector at his left. And he's got the Grail.

"Privateers of the Golden Hind and Servants of Chaldea!" he calls, an extremely self-satisfied grin on his face as he addresses us. "I am Jason! Captain of the Argo! You have one chance, and one chance alone to surrender the goddess Euryale to me, for which you will be greatly rewarded. Fail to do so and we'll simply take her by force!"

Dammit. Looks like I'm going to have to kill one of my top ten favorite Greek heroes.

Right. Start gathering information. Map out his personality. Engage him in conversation.

"If you want, her, you'll have to take her over our cold, dead bodies!" Elizabeth snaps, punctuating her declaration by shooting him. Her shot misses, of course, seeing as she's trying to hit from at least a football field away with a shitty flintlock, but it still makes her point. And thoroughly cuts off any chance for clarification, negotiation, or cunctation, utterly throwing my plans to hell.

"Well, you heard the lady. Get 'em Heracles!" he shouts, grinning cruelly.

Did he just say...

A grey missile bursts through the fog, slamming into the Hind's poop deck with the force of an angry god. The planks splinter beneath his feet as he roars his rage to the heavens, hair splayed out behind him and eye burning with a red light.

Oh fuck the Hell no.

'All Servants, I don't care what it takes, get him off the Hind NOW!' I turn to Drake, who looks just as utterly horrified as I feel. "Drake, we need to get out of here, now! He might have more Argonauts!"

Vlad steps up to face the greatest hero of Greece, and is promptly battered back beneath an onslaught of lightning face blows, barely enduring the unspeakably deadly barrage.

"We can't! Not with him on our deck! If we try to tend the lines, we'll die!"

Okay, Hail Mary time. "Elizabeth, try to use your Grail to move the ship!"

Asterios has joined the fight, his own titanic strength allowing him to go blow for blow against the son of Zeus, and holding his attention so that Vlad and Tamamo can strike at his flank.

"Flynn!" Orion calls, floating over towards me as Artemis, alongside Arash, peppers her half-brother with arrows, not a single one of them striking home. Euryale, for her part, is holding her shot more often than not. A single instance of friendly fire could be deadly as things stand now. Hassan throws daggers where he finds the chance, and Yan is apparently smart enough to stay out of it when the fighting is well out of his league. "We can't hurt him!"

"Kind of figured!" I snap, watching as our best and brightest can only stall him.

"He has a Noble Phantasm called God Hand. It makes him invulnerable to anyone without Divinity as high as his, and gives him twelve lives, one for each Labor!"

"So only Artemis can kill him?"

Orion coughs. "Well, no. She hijacked my Saint Graph, so she can't actually hurt him."

Welp. We're fucked. "What can hurt him?"

"A-rank attacks, and high enough Divinity."

We're fucked. 'Tamamo, engage Monstrous Strength. Your Strength stat isn't high enough to defeat him as it is.'

"We're moving!" Elizabeth cheers, as the sails begin to fill, and we start to move away.

Then I hear Jason's voice. "Heracles! Hold him still!"

The Berserker complies, his mighty arms holding Asterios in an inescapable grip, as, on the Argo, Hector's spear begins to glow with a golden light.

"DURINDANA!" Troy's greatest defender roars as the shining golden spear soars, piercing straight through Asterios' chest and sinking deep into Heracles' before detonating.

"Asterios!" Euryale screams, and I don't blame her. Heracles' nigh invulnerable hide spared us the brunt of the detonation, but Asterios, along with the decking below and behind him were absolutely shredded. I can see his lungs right now, and they do not look like the lungs of a man that's going to live past five minutes.

But now, for this moment, Heracles is dead (albeit temporarily) and we have an opening.

"TOSS HIM OVERBOARD BEFORE HE RECOVERS!"

Vlad and Tamamo lunge forward, shoulder-checking the now-regenerating Heracles over the damaged railing before he returns to consciousness.

"DRAKE, ELIZABETH, GO! GOGOGOGOGOGO!"

"All hands to the lines!"

"ARCHERS! Keep shooting him! Make sure he can't swim after us at full speed!"

As they go to keep our pursuit at bay, I slump down against a railing, suddenly feeling bone tired as the adrenaline leaves me.

"Solid work, Master." Galahad says, sitting down besides me. "I was honestly sure that we were all about to die."

"Me too." I murmur. Then, I sigh. "We're going to need to shake them."

'Medea, are you aware of what's going on?'

'Eminently so.' she replies from belowdecks, seething with rage. 'What would you ask of me, my Master?'

'We need a charm or ward of some kind to keep them from magically tracing Euryale.' I inform her, watching as the little Gorgon weeps besides Asterios' already vanishing body. 'Then...'

'Then?'

'Then we find an island with some centaurs on it, set up for a proper defense, and request some materials from Chaldea.' I grin. 'We have their objective. Now we force them to come to us.'

They won the first round. But we survived, and we're going to make them regret it.

 

"All right, people," I begin, looking out over a crowd consisting of the Servants who've sided with Chaldea, along with Queen Elizabeth. They look back at me, some grim, others hopeful, and all of them expecting me to have a plan. I swallow my nervousness, and continue. "I'm not going to sugarcoat things. We lost. And our chances aren't looking good."

I start to pace, hands firmly clasped behind my back. "Our enemy is Jason of Iolcus, leader of the Argonauts, hero of the Argonautica. A brilliant and charismatic tactician who's leading the greatest collection of Ancient Greek heroes the world has ever known. He's a veteran of countless engagements, with an incredible gift for managing Heroic Spirits, particularly those of the Argo, and is no slouch in personal combat himself. Beyond that, his crew. The inimitable Heracles, whom you all might remember as the unstoppable juggernaut who quite nearly killed us all a few hours back, Hector, the legendary defender of Troy, and God knows who else."

Faces are falling, and Drake is giving me a questioning look.

"But enough about his advantages. Let's talk about ours." I turn on my heel and pace back the way I came, letting a grin begin to form on my face. "Firstly, we have his objective, meaning he has to come to us. We can make this a defensive battle and stack the field entirely in our favor. Secondly, we know the weaknesses of both him and his crew. The price of fame, I suppose. Lastly, but perhaps more importantly..." My grin is full-born now, full of wicked glee. "We have the woman who single-handedly destroyed his life on our side."

Medea looks at me inquisitively at that.

"I don't know Jason." I admit. "I can't plan around him all that well, not without him planning around me in turn. But Medea? She knows him. And moreover, she knows how to destroy him. Which is why, when we find an island that meets the requirements for our killing field, I will cede operational command over to her."

Now that gets a response. But I wave the objections off.

"Why?" Medea asks, looking surprised, the furthest off her game I've ever seen her become.

"Because you know him better than anyone else, which means you know exactly how to destroy him. And you hate him more than anyone else, which means you'll stop[ at nothing in doing so."

She grins, surprise being swiftly replaced by malicious glee and anticipation. "Thank you, Master."

"My pleasure," I lie. I still can't shake the sense that this will go horribly wrong, but all the same, it's the method with the highest chance of success, regardless of my paranoia.

---​

"Third island, and no centaurs," Drake notes as he mans the helm.

"Hey, we're only starting off the search," I offer, standing besides him, Galahad at my side. "Although, I do have a good feeling about this one."

Because the universe apparently hates me, an arrow whistles past my ear, and embeds itself quivering in the decking. I, of course, react with calm and measured aplomb by immediately hitting the deck and screaming "GALAHADSAVEME!" in a commanding, manly baritone.

"Wow. That was pathetic even by your standards," the Grail Knight of the Round Table notes as he steps up to cover me, his mighty shield raised defensively.

"Shut up. It caught me off-guard." I mutter, slowly getting back to my feet. And... wait, there's something wrapped around the shaft. "Hold on. Is that a note?"

"Looks like it," Drake observes, as I unwrap it from around the arrow. "What's it say?"

"Hell if I know. It's written in Linear B." Drake shoots me a confused look. "The linguistic precursor to Ancient Greek. I can't read it. Medea!"

"What?"

"Someone shot a note wrapped around an arrow at me, and I can't read it! I need you to translate!"

"Up in a minute!"

True to her word, she soon emerges, hood down, stripping off the gloves she was wearing. I'm still not sure what she's brewing up down there, whatever it is, it does not do pleasant things to your skin.

"Right, let me see," she mutters, taking the letter from me and looking it over. "It says, 'Are you friend or foe to Jason of Iolcus?'"

Another arrow thuds into the decking, and after a brief moment, Medea picks that one up too. She looks it over, and then bursts out laughing. "This one... this one says, 'Never mind. You have Medea with you, which definitively answers my question. Come ashore to meet with me, enemy of Jason.'"

"A potential ally?" Drake asks, hands still firm on the wheel.

"Maybe." I mutter, before looking to Medea. "Do you know who it is?"

"From the arrow's fletching and shape, and the terrible handwriting, I'd say the Archer who's requesting a meeting is Atalanta."

"Interesting. I wouldn't mind meeting her, but is she likely to be on Jason's side?"

"Extremely so." Medea affirms. "She always felt indebted to Jason for giving her the chance to prove herself, and not turning her away when she asked to join him on his quest for the Golden Fleece. He was one of the only ones on the Argo who actually seemed to respect her as a hero."

"Were you friends?" I ask.

"No." she sighs. "Although later, when I recovered from Aphrodite's curse, I wished we had been. But, at the time, the only person I cared about was Jason."

"Alright. We meet with her, but we take precautions."

---​

"So. You came," a voice calls from the trees.

I'm surrounded by my Servants, along with a complement of Dragon Tooth Warriors.

"Yes!" I call out. "And you would be Atalanta, Huntress of Artemis, correct?"

She lands with a soft thud, bow in hand and eyes sharp. She wears a hunter's garb, her hair tied back in a ponytail and her clothes all a dull brown, tightly fitted to her.

And she has cat ears, for some reason, which I'm trying really hard not to stare at.

"Yes. And you're the Master of Chaldea."

"Hm. Always good to be recognized, I suppose. So, may I ask if you're friend or foe?"

"If you're Jason's enemy, I'm friend to you."

"Huh." Okay, wasn't entirely expecting that. "I actually got the impression that you respected him, at least from Medea's account and my own familiarity with the myths."

"I do." she agrees. "Which is why I refuse to help him when he's not acting like himself and actively striking against his best interests."

"How so?" I ask, furrowing my brow.

"To begin with, when he summoned me, he didn't try to ask me to follow him, he demanded." she shakes her head. "Jason never did that. He was always polite, even to people who hated him, and always waited at least until the third sentence in any conversation to bring up what he wanted you to do. He was manipulative and demanding, sure, but he was always subtle about it. The Jason that summoned me had all the grace and subtlety of the Calydonian Boar."

"So, you think someone's using him, or he's being controlled somehow."

"He didn't even subtly guilt-trip me once about how he gave me a chance to prove myself. The real Jason never let a chance to do that slip him by when he was trying to talk me into something."

"And… you actually liked the old Jason?" I ask incredulously.

"Well, yes. For all that he was easily the single most manipulative person I've ever met, he was... There was just something about him you couldn't help but like, and he obviously considered us his friends. He was an asshole, but he was our asshole."

"I get that, I suppose." I try not to be slightly discomfited by the fact that a few of my servants are openly nodding along in understanding while looking my way. "But how is he acting against his best interests?"

"Hm. David, you can come out now!" she calls.

There's a rustling, and out steps... Dr. Roman?

I blink. Okay, it's not Dr. Roman, but the resemblance is uncanny. Their hair is even almost the exact same shade of red.

"Hey." the Roman-doppleganger calls, waving at us. "Name's David. King of Israel and all that. Nice to meet you!"

Keep your inner fanboy contained, Charlie. Don't squee! It's not all that cool! Remember Uriah! Don't ask King David for an autograph.

"An honor to meet you, great King," I offer up, keeping my tone measured.

"Same here. I've been keeping an eye on your work, and I'm impressed." he replies with an easy grin that just furthers the resemblance.

"So. What do you wish to tell us?" I ask, trying my hardest to stay professional.

"Well. Let me tell you about the Ark of the Covenant."

---​

We return to the Hind with Atalanta in tow, still reeling from the revelation that Indiana Jones was historically accurate.

Well, at least I am. I can't speak for the others.

It's only when we clamber out from the rowboat onto the deck of the Hind that I realize that I forgot to mention something to Atalanta.

"Ah, Huntress, I might have neglected to mention-"

"Atalanta?" a high, bubbly voice calls in recognition. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

I look around and then grab a mostly-full bottle of the hardest liquor available. It will be needed.

"Do I know you?" the chaste huntress asks, as her goddess flounces towards her.

"Oh! It's me! Artemis!" she calls, a huge grin splitting her face. "I came to join my sweetykins in saving the world."

Atalanta starts to laugh. "No, you're not." She turns to me. "Flynn, it's a good joke, but that's enough."

I give her a resigned, apologetic look.

"You don't believe me?" Artemis asks, looking hurt. Then she grabs Atalante by the collar and whispers something into her ear in Greek.

"But that- I only said that to- You-" Atalanta babbles, her face slowly contorting into a mask of pure despair.

Wordlessly, I hand her the bottle.

 

I watch from the scrying cave as the Argo approaches, banks of oars moving in unison.

Took them long enough. We finished setting up the trap and disabled Euryale's anti-location ward yesterday.

And there's Jason, standing at the helm.

Ooh. He saw the scarecrows.

At first, I disagreed with Medea's plan to string up the exsanguinated centaurs' corpses like scarecrows, and reshape all their faces to look like Chiron's. But now, watching Jason stare in horror and silently mouth the name of the man who was like a father to him, his eyes beginning to tear up as he does so... I still think we went too far with this.

And then 'I' step out into the open just as the Archers start their barrage.

Hector and the little girl Caster are both pinned down protecting Jason, while Heracles bursts into action to do what he does best, chasing after the disguised Yan Qing like an oncoming freight train.

He doesn't even make it out of sight of the Argo before he tumbles into the pit trap full of hydra-tainted centaur blood.

I don't need sound in order to hear his screams. Or Jason's wails of grief as he watches his best friend die in front of him.

All right. Come on, Charlie. Don't let guilt distract you. Don't let doubt slow you.

'Archer Servants... concentrate fire on the girl.'

She doesn't see it coming. She goes from intercepting the arrows, to being their target. Arash hits her in the shoulder, and now she has to choose between shielding herself and healing herself, which makes her freeze up. She's still young, and inexperienced. She can't make decisions on the fly, and in her momentary hesitation, Atalanta's Noble Phantasm turns her into a human pincushion. She dies without a word, pinned to the deck by the arrows driven through every inch of her body, her face a rictus of agonized terror.

Hector's next, and he knows it. His body tightens, his eyes sharpen as he steels himself to meet his end.

He doesn't falter, shielding Jason with everything he has, a protector to the very end. He dies looking more like a porcupine than a man, unable to even stand.

And then the volleys stop, leaving only Jason, alone upon his Argo. And Medea, flying forwards, her cloak spread out like the wings of a bat, who grins with the dark, malevolent glee of a cat that's cornered a mouse.

Jason takes one look at her and falls on his sword, leaving her screaming in rage.

'We've secured the Grail, Flynn.' Galahad reports, his voice somewhere between shaken and angry. 'Did you know? Did you know she would do this?'

'No.' I send back numbly.

I... dear God, what have I done? What have I done?