How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)

Chaldea is quiet.

Or, at the very least, the Command Room is quiet. The staff members other than Roman, all three of them, look like the world just tilted under their feet. Roman's not looking much better.

Hell, I'm not looking much better.

Lev was telling the truth. Humanity is just... gone. Burned away. The Singularities are all that's left visible on Chaldeas- I wince. The Singularities are all that's left. Them and a bevy of smaller, far less stable micro-Singularities. We're all supposed to be planning, thinking of something. Anything.

But all we can do is stare in silent horror at the red light of humanity's ruin. And Chaldeas' crimson eye stares back.

All because we know exactly what the scarlet light of the Director's tomb means: Everything we know and love is gone.

Roman breaks the silence.

"All right. That's enough." We tear our eyes away from Chaldeas in order to look more fully at him. "We've been played. Humanity has been destroyed. But I refuse to let that stand. We're going to fix this."

"But what can we do?" I ask. It's... everything's gone. Everything.

"What Chaldea was always intended to do: Resolve the Singularities." He looks around sternly. "So pull yourselves together. We have a species to save. The Grand Order has begun."

I feel myself perk up despite myself. The other three do too.

"Right then. Command Room. How do we do this?" I toss out. Enough moping. Time to get started on planning how we fix this.

"Our first concern is personnel." one of the bridge bunnies says, I think his name is... Tom? "Only about twenty of us left-" and now I have no excuse for not remembering my coworkers' names. Dammit. "-so we're going to have to work out how we can make this work while we're understaffed."

"Got a plan for that." I offer. All heads turn to me. "Assassin's Noble Phantasm gives them a hundred bodies, each with their own unique skillset. They only have nine at the moment, but that's still nine experts in their respective fields to aid us. Beyond that, each and every Servant is a legend for a damn good reason. They can most likely be utilized to better Chaldea, and do some measure of the work. I'm fairly sure that I can talk them into it."

"That's all your wheelhouse," another bridge bunny. I'm calling him Jerry in my head until I get his actual name. "If anything Da Vinci's proof of concept for that plan."

"Da Vin- Leonardo Da Vinci is here?" Not much of a Renaissance scholar, but this is still awesome.

"Yeah. She's working on getting the generators back up and running and fixing the structural damage at the moment." Roman interjects.

"She?"

"Um. Yeah."

"So, bar's intact, right?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Third bridge bunny clears her throat. I dub thee Jessica. "We still need to resupply, though. And we can hardly do that with the world... well you know."

That puts a damper on things. Then I remember something, and check my pocket. It's still there.

"Not necessarily." I pull out the runestone. "Caster gave me this in the Singularity. It's still here." I point to the micro-Singularities. "We can harvest the resources from those."

"Well, yes, but those are too short lived to harvest raw resources."

"Then we gather processed resources." This is going to be a tough sell.

Roman looks at me. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Human settlements tend to have large amounts of pre-processed resources just lying about for the taking. We have Servants. We can take what we need and Rayshift it back to Chaldea, by force if necessary."

Yeah. Hard sell. All of the others look somewhat perturbed at the idea. Roman most especially. "You're proposing we resort to banditry."

"More like piracy, but yes. If we fail, they'll all cease to exist regardless. Us taking their resources is ultimately to their benefit, regardless of their feelings on the matter."

He seems to struggle for a minute or two, before sighing. "I suppose I can't argue that."

"Any other concerns?"

"None too urgent."

"Good. Which way to the bar?"

Directions are given, and I'm off.

 

It's late, and I'm ever so slightly drunk, but I can't sleep. So, I find myself alone in the empty Rayshift room, staring up at Chaldeas.

"Hey, Boss."

I sit down on one of the charred consoles, trying to find the right words.

"Lev said you would be alive in there. Not sure if you can hear me, but I thought I'd keep you company for a bit."

I sigh.

"We're... soldiering on. This whole thing hasn't been easy. Losing you was one hell of a blow, and loosing the world was just as bad. But... We're going to do our damnedest to fix the world, I suppose. Who knows? Maybe we'll save you one of these days. Not likely, but hope springs eternal, y'know?"

She doesn't reply. To be fair, I wasn't expecting her to.

"Doctor Roman took over for you. Y'know, I kind of thought that he was an unreliable slacker when I first met him, but... When we were frozen, without any hope, he's the one who got us going. I think he'll do you proud."

I can almost see her grumbling at having anyone else take her job.

"Anything else? No, I think it's just the big one left." I take a fortifying breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I- I ran the scenario through my head a thousand times and- I couldn't think of a way that I could have saved you. And maybe that's supposed to make me feel better, that I did the best I could, and got as many people as I could manage out alive, but..." I shake my head. "It really doesn't."

The great red eye stares back at me, still silent as the grave.

"Anyways, that's... that's my apology. I know it's not worth much, and you probably still don't like me all that much, but there it is. Take it or leave it." I clear my throat. "So, anyways, I think I've said everything I needed to. Goodbye, Director. I hope..." I let it trail off. Well-wishing would just feel hollow. Nothing I can do will change her situation, for better or for worse.

As I leave for my room, I try to wipe away my eye-sweat. The fires may have been put out, but the room was still unbearably hot.

 

"Senpai? What's going on?" Mash asks, her head tilted adorably to one side. I manfully resist the urge to ruffle her hair.

Before us, the summoning room is being set up. Da Vinci, one of Assassin's bodies', and the only surviving summoning technician are all working together to attune it to the rune-inscribed stone at its heart.

"We don't have enough energy to do another multiple summon like back in Fuyuki, but we do have enough for one." I grin. "So we're using the rock Caster gave me as a Catalyst to summon him."

"Oh. That's wonderful! It would be nice to see him again!"

"Yeah. And having Ireland's greatest hero on our side will be a huge help." Plus, for all that I only knew him for a short time, I legitimately came to think of Cu as a friend.

"Right, then, Charlie, we're ready to go!" Da Vinci calls out. I refuse to call her Da Vinci-chan like she wants. The greatest Renaissance Man in history being transgender is one thing. The greatest Renaissance Man in history being a weeb temporarily broke my faith in humanity, and I refuse to encourage it.

"Alright then." I stand forth and present my two command seals (and wasn't it a relief to learn they regenerate) to the circle. And then I start the chant.

"Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation
Let black, the colour I pay tribute to
Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall
Let the four cardinal gates close.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

I hereby declare.
Your body shall serve under me.
My fate shall be your sword.
Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail
If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!

An oath shall be sworn here!
I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven.
I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three greet words of power,
Come forth from the ring of restraints,
Protector of the Holy Balance!"

Then, that particular tongue-twister of a chant complete, I bend over panting for breath.

"Good show!" Da Vinci claps. "But you'll have to start over, the chant needs to be repeated three times without breaks."

"WHAT!"

"I kid, I kid, you don't actually have to bother with the chant at all. I just thought it would be funny to make you do it."

"Hate you. Hate you so much." I flip her the bird. She just laughs.

"Alright, fire it up, Marjani!"

The silvery glow shines forth as the rings begin to circle. Once, twice, three times, and-

He appears in the final flash of light. I focus, and see his stats before my eyes.

"Welcome to Chaldea, Caster."

"Glad to be here kid." He grins, then looks about irritably. "And you couldn't have summoned me as a Lancer?"

"Not in my wheelhouse. Just luck of the draw, really." I smile. "But I'm glad to have you here. Regardless of what Class Container you're in."

"Hey, don't get sappy on me, kid." He looks around. "So, where's that Director chick?"

"Director Olga-Marie... didn't make it." That kills my smile. "Come on. I'll show you around."

---​

And so, the first week of the Grand Order passes mostly uneventfully. Aside from the summonings, of course. Our first act of time piracy (I don't care if Roman glares at me when I call it that, it makes what we're planning to do sound cool, and less like a soul-crushing act motivated by brutal necessity) is still in the planning phase, but the mechanism to mass Rayshift goods and resources in from the Singularities has been ironed out. We'll most liekely make our next raid next week. In the meantime, I plan, strategize, and familiarize myself with Servants new and old. And work out how to stop them if they go rogue. Never before have I so empathized with Batman.

As to the summonings...

---​

"Servant Rider, True Name Georgios. I look forward to defending humanity at your side."

"An honor to meet you, Saint George. I am equally honored to fight besides you."

---​

"Servant Lancer, True Name Vlad Dracula Tepes! My spears yearn for the blood of the wicked!"

Oh boy. "Splendid. Welcome to the team." Well, at least he probably won't object to my more extreme strategies, and- How the fuck is he LAWFUL GOOD?

---​

"Servant Assassin, True Name Hassan-I-Sabbah of the Cursed Arm. Command me, and I will serve."

"An honor to meet you, Old Man of the Mountain. I hope our partnership will be fruitful."

---​

"Servant Assassin, True Name Sasaki Kojirou. I'm not much of a Servant, but I will do my best."

"I have no idea who you are, but I'm willing to learn. Welcome to the team." And time to grab those materials on Japanese mythology and heroic figures from Chaldea's library.

---​

The rings spin, and reveals the glowing outline of a figure that immediately vanishes, glowing sparks dissipating through the air.

"For fuck's sake. Marjani, get on the intercom, call Da Vinci."

A few rings later, "Charlie, good to hear from you. Is there a problem?"

"One of the Servants died the minute we summoned them. Also, the broom closet we stick the useless junk in is starting to get full, but mostly the whole instantly dying Servant thing."

"Let me check the Summon Logs. Oh, there we go."

"What?"

"You summoned Hundred Faces again. To prevent redundancy, the system integrated the new copy into the already existing version."

"Would that restock their Zabaniya?"

"Almost certainly."

"Well, alright, then. Sorry to bother you."

"Always happy to help!"

I nod to Marjani, and she ends the call.

"Right, next summon."

The engines whirl and-

"Black keys. Hooray."

---​

All in all, a productive week.

 

I stride out into the briefing room, in front of an audience of Servants.

"Ladies. Gentlemen. Hundred Face. Thank you for coming." I look around. Hundred Face seems to have taken my inability to discern their gender identity in good humor, and the rest of the Servants are still patiently listening. That probably won't last when we get to the meat of the briefing. Although Tamamo already looks bored. She's even more ADHD than me, I swear. "Chaldea has a problem."

The Powerpoint starts up behind me, displaying a line graph.

"This is the projected lifespan of our food supplies. As you can see," I point to the X-axis. "they will run out in less than a month. Normally, Chaldea keeps a sizeable surplus of food on hand in case the regular resupply flight can't make it. However, Lev knew where we stored our food, and, as a result, firebombed it. What we have left is what little we can salvage. Even with only twenty-five staff members at hand, and strict rationing implemented, we can only stretch it out to three weeks before starvation sets in. Growing our food isn't an option, either. We're in Antarctica, so the outdoor climate won't support plant growth, and an indoor greenhouse is unfeasible with our current limited resources and manpower."

Faces are falling. I imagine that Dr. Roman's briefing for the staff is a bit less focused on the problems we face and more on the solutions, but when one is convincing legendary heroes to go against their natures, one must first impress the dire necessity of doing so upon them.

"Further, the rest of our resources aren't doing much better. We don't even have enough materials to repair the damage from Lev's attack, much less improve our infrastructure. And our mana engines need materials we don't have if we're to summon more servants."

My audience members are now all looking at me, either with considering eyes or steely determination. Surprisingly, Tamamo is in the former category.

"I'm no doomsayer. We have a solution, but I don't doubt that some of you will find it morally repugnant." I tap the screen, and the Powerpoint shifts to the next slide, an image taken of Chaldeas. "You're well aware of the Seven Singularities, one of which we've already resolved. What you might not know about are these." I point to the smaller distortions on the screen. "We're calling them micro-Singularities. Short lived aberrations of history that spring up and resolve themselves entirely on their own. This one," I point to today's target. "is in Dover, in the year 534 AD. It'll collapse on itself within twenty-four hours. Before it does so, an away team from Chaldea will Rayshift in and seize whatever food and resources they can, by force if necessary." Several of the Servants look disgusted and horrified. "I know. It's not very noble of us. And I realize that it's not exactly something any of you want to do. If you want to opt out, you can do so at any time, and I won't hold it against you. But know that we wouldn't be going through with this plan if it wasn't both the only option available to us, and our best chance for completing the Grand Order. We're not exactly thrilled with this either."

I pause, to let them voice their objections if they have them.

Georgios stands. "I will not be party to this. However..." and almost seems to pain him to say it, "I will not oppose you."

"I understand."

I look around as Georgios leaves. None of the others get up to go, although Tamamo looks concerned and Kojirou looks physically pained at the thought of resorting to robbery like a common bandit.

"All right then. I can't bring all of you with me on the deployment, so here's our team composition." I can bring six Servants, even if I can only sustain three in active combat. "Hundred Faces, you're our numbers. I'm not going to lie, most of your part will be manual labor." They nod. "Vlad, Cursed Arm, you're there for intimidation. If we can keep them cowed through fear, nobody will have to get hurt." They both nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm. "Cu, you're there to deal with hostile magecraft and set up the mass Rayshifting circle. Mostly because I'm a terrible mage." He chuckles. That's five, counting Mash. Room for one more. Either Tamamo or Kojirou. Tamamo'd be the obvious choice for this role, but she'd be utterly miserable on this mission. For all her ditziness, she's a good person. Kojirou, however... "Kojirou. You'll be perimeter defense. You intercept any armed response or aid attempts. Given the era, it's possible that we'll be opposed by at least one Knight of the Round Table. If that's the case, I'll need you to hold them off." There. The potential for an honorable match against worthy opponents. Should keep him happy.

"All right then. We deploy at noon, so be in the Rayshift Chamber by eleven thirty. Briefing over." I leave, Mash following me.

"Are you okay with this?" I ask as we make our way to the chamber. "I know I didn't mention you, but I assumed you'd be with me."

"Y-Yes, Senpai!" She's not sounding too convincing. "It's just... I really don't like this mission. It feels wrong."

"Yeah. I know." I let my shoulders slump for a moment. And then the Rayshift Chamber comes into sight, and I steel my spine once more.

Gravitas. It's showtime.

 

We appear in the Rayshift's flash of light.

"Right. First things first." Time to see if this actually works. 'Testing, One, Two, Three, can you hear me?'

'Yes, Senpai!' The others also send their affirmations.

"Right. The mental link will function as our comms. Use it to contact me if you encounter a problem." Nods all around. "Right then. Caster, set up that Rayshift array. Assassin," all three of them look at me. Okay then. "Kojirou, move out and search for threats. Hassans, Lancer, Shielder, you're with me."

Nods all around as I set out towards the village.

I enter at the head of a veritable small army of Assassins, with Lancer at my left hand and Mash at my right. Right then, time to put on a show.

"Good people of Dover!" I exclaim, spreading my arms wide. "We come in war!"

The crowd of curious, somewhat smelly onlookers all freeze.

"Fortunately, we're not hard folk to appease. We'll be leaving you your coin and your lives in exchange for your resources. One-half of your food, and all your metal, cloth, and alcohol!" After a week of having to keep Cu Chulainn happy, the bar's almost dry.

There's an awkward silence. Finally, someone in the robes of the clergy makes his way to the front of the crowd.

"Nomen mihi est Marcus. Ego sum sacerdos illorum bonorum hominum. Quo tu es et quod cupidas?"

I frown. He's trying Latin because... Oh of course. Obviously they don't understand me. They're Britons! They speak Medieval Welsh. I must sound like I'm spewing gibberish at them. Worse, vaguely Anglo-Saxon gibberish. And he's trying Latin because he thinks I might understand the more common tongue.

Admittedly, he was right, but I'm only good at reading Latin. A conversation spoken entirely in it is well beyond me.

"Vlad, Servants can speak any language, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm going to need you to play translator for me. Repeat what I told them, but in their language."

As he does so, I discretely tap my earpiece. "Roman."

"Yeah?"

"Can you translate the local language for me?"

"Yes. I'll feed them to you through your earpiece.

"Thanks."

Lowering my hand, I turn to look at the townspeople, who are now chattering among themselves worriedly.

I clap my hands together. "Well, get on with it!" Vlad repeats it in an entirely different language, one with a frankly ungodly amount of "y"s.

Some scatter to comply with our demands, but one strapping young lad, moved either by stupidity or courage, shouts out something I presume to be insulting and chucks a rock at me. Mash's shield intercepts it, but the damage is done. If I let that go unpunished, they'll be emboldened. "Vlad, break the rock-thrower's legs."

He starts to translate before what I said registers. Then, with a bloodthirsty grin, he does as ordered.

"Spikes through the kneecaps? Really?"

"Do you have an issue with my methods, Master?"

"It's overkill. You could have just gone over a snapped them with a kick. Now you've crippled him for life, our extortees hate us for crippling one of our own, and I'm pretty sure that they think you're some kind of witch."

"But they fear us all the more."

"'On the whole, I find that if one must choose between being feared and loved, it is better to be feared than loved. But one must be careful when garnering fear not to do so in a manner that attracts hatred, for men will endure great hardship in order to bring about the ruin of someone they hate.' Niccolo Macchiavelli. The Prince."

"It sounds like an interesting book," Vlad comments after a brief pause.

"We probably have it at Chaldea. You should try reading it."

"I might just do that."

Right. Vlad's more vicious tendencies have been tempered. The others? The Assassins are fine, mildly annoyed at worst. Mash looks like she's about to throw up.

"Vlad, translate this: We'll treat his wounds once our demands are met. Bring the material to the town square, and we'll take it the rest of the way to our camp. I'd recommend you hurry. I doubt he has long."

Now that sends them scurrying. Alright, remote check-in.

'Cu, is the circle established?'

'Yeah. Set up a few Wicker Golems to guard the whole thing.'

'Good. We need you to head to town. Vlad kneecapped a kid, and we promised to heal him if our demands are met'

I get a faint sense of disapproval, and a resigned 'On my way.'

Right then. 'Kojirou?'

'Yes Master?'

'Anything to report?'

'I have encountered a wyvern.'

'What?'

'A wyvern. I challenged it to a duel. Its form was lacking.'

I have no idea how to respond to that. Might be time to reevaluate my assessment of Kojirou as one of the saner Servants.

'Okay then. Anything else?'

'Sir Gareth of the Round Table is currently headed towards Dover, accompanied his brother Agravaine. From their conversation I have inferred that they are Servant versions of the knights in question, traveling between the various singularities in order to carry out their duty to their king. Should I engage?'

Fuck. 'Yes.'

"Two knights of the Round Table inbound. Hundred Face, spread out and supervise the villagers, make sure they don't dawdle. We need to get out of here fast."

"Master, I don't want to fight Knights of the Round Table." Mash looks honestly distressed.

"God willing, we won't have to."

'Master. I am being pushed back.'

'HOW?'

'They are mounted on horseback. Versatile as my fighting style may be, fighting cavalry with a sword is still nigh-impossible.' I get an impression of sudden exertion. 'And now my katana is broken.'

'Dare I ask?'

'I attempted to block Sir Gareth's lance. His lance is apparently a Noble Phantasm, and he hit the flat of my blade. I'm afraid I must retreat to your position.'

'Sonnuva- Fine.'

"Okay, Knights inbound."

"What?" Mash yelps.

"Knights inbound. Kojirou's delaying action failed. Vlad, they're mounted, prepare to use Kezliki Bey to take out their horses. Cursed Arm, same goes for your daggers. When targeting the knights, aim to cripple, not kill. They're heroes, after all, and the world's better off with them in it."

'Caster? How far out are you?'

'A minute away.'

'Good. Knights of the Round Table inbound.'

I feel the spike of bloodlust through the link.

Well, at least he's happy.

'Hundred Face, change of plans. fill up as many satchels as you can with the materials, and ferry them to the Rayshift Matrix. Knights of the Round incoming.'

They affirm that they understand.

Now, all that remains is to await the arrival of our enemies. Mash is shaking with... something. No idea what.

"Mash. It's okay to be afraid."

"Senpai, I'm not afraid." she shakes her head. "I feel... ashamed. And embarrassed. And I don't know why."

Before I can ask for clarification, I hear hoofbeats.

"Master." Kojirou looks worse for the wear. "They are some ways away. They pursued me most vigorously, but stopped when a villager broke cover and approached them."

Gaddammit. An escapee? I should have accounted for that.

The hoofbeats are getting closer, and Mash looks like she wants to just curl up into a ball and die. Why would she- Ah. Her "body-buddy" is a Knight of the Round Table. The thought of their peers seeing them do this must be causing them so much distress it's bleeding over into Mash. That would be hilarious, if it wasn't likely to get me killed.

Finally, the two ride into sight. A young, slightly effeminate looking man in some extremely anachronistic full plate, his visor raised to reveal his boyish face, and a far larger figure in black armor, his visor down over his face.

"Brother Agravain! Look! The bandits!" Gareth's eyes fall upon the only lightly-bandaged youth behind us, and harden. I also look back. Shit, did he bleed out? "Surrender, villains. Cast down your arms, and face the King's judgement, and you may yet live. Fail to do so, and we'll have you heads!"

"Afraid we can't do that, Sir Gareth," I call back. "We serve a higher purpose in this matter, and must assuage needs far more desperate than theirs."

"Then have at thee!" he calls, and my God, his voice is high-pitched. "Come on, Agravain! Agravain?"

But Agravain is just staring intently at Mash.

"Hellooo Agravain?" Gareth waves a hand past his brother's eyes.

"For a moment, there, I mistook you for my son," Agravain growls, his voice thick with rage, his eyes never leaving Mash, whose expression of embarrassed dread has shifted to outright panic.

"I have a nephew?" Gareth seems overjoyed at the prospect. "Also, of course she's not your son! That's clearly a lass! Do you need your eyes checked?"

"But my son would never engage in acts so base and vile." Agravain (although I'm beginning to doubt that it's actually him) growls, black smoke beginning to leak from his armor's joints. "Never would my son turn his shield against the innocent, or turn to banditry for worldly gain! So tell me, wench. How came you by my boy's arms and armor? Tell me true, and I'll only kill you quick for defiling my son's memory!"

"Arms and armor? But that's-" Gareth looks at Mash, perplexed, before looking back at his travelling companion with realization dawning in his eyes. "Sir Lancelot?"

Three things happen in that moment. First, I realize exactly who Mash is currently sharing her body with. Second, Mash reverts back to her human form, curled up into a little ball of acute embarrassment.

Thirdly, Sir freaking Lancelot charges at us with sword in hand, screaming bloody murder.

 

Lancelot roars as he lunges towards Mash, before Vlad just barely manages to intercept him. This interception rapidly proves itself monumentally unhelpful, as Lancer's Agility is quite evidently far lower than the berserk knight's. He's sent flying and Lancelot once more turns his attention to Mash.

"Hey!" Those mad, bloodshot eyes turn towards me. "Leave her alone! I was the one who gave her Galahad's gear!" Blatant lies. But those were always my forte. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mash convulse.

"GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" And black-armored-death flies towards me.

"No!" And there's Mash. Saving my life once again. Her armor's back in place, her Servant form's active, and her shield's between me and Lancelot. Knew I could count on her.

Shield and sword crash against each other, a furious dance of death. And Mash seems... better. Her every movement more efficient, as if her style had been suddenly refined.

But she still can't hold out forever. And against an opponent of Lancelot's caliber, we can't hold back.

"Cursed Arm! By the power of my Command Seal, take his heart!"

The bound arm unfurls. Fingers like claws pierce armor. And a knight without equal perishes.

"No!" Mash screams it at the same time as Gareth. Spurred from his shock at his companion's furious charge and vengeful demeanor, the young knight kicks his horse into a gallop, lance at the ready. And is sent flying when Vald's Kezliki Bey springs up beneath his horse. Undeterred, he rises, eyes brimming with grief and anger, spear in hand. Cursed Arm's daggers catch him at the knees.

Gareth still struggles to rise. The next two daggers catch him in the arms instead. I consider making a Monty Python reference, but figure it would be in poor taste.

And still, he glares at me, howling bloody murder as he tries to stand and kill us all.

"Assassin. Finish it."

The dagger takes him in the throat.

As I watch the body dissolve, I remind myself of the stakes.

It still doesn't help.

Mash didn't move for the entirety of Gareth's single-minded charge. She's still staring at where Lancelot's body fell, even though it's long since dissipated.

Right. Her kinda-father did just die in front of her. She'll need a soft touch.

"I'm sorry, Mash." And suddenly, there's a hand around my throat, cutting off my oxygen and lifting me into the air.

"Do not speak to me, worm." And suddenly, violet eyes stare into mine with complete and utter loathing. Mash. Mash is the one choking me right now, With one hand, even. Didn't think she had it in her. She has very small hands. And I have a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge throat. I think the oxygen deprivation might be getting to me.

And then, with a casual toss, she casts me aside, stalking away without even acknowledging the stakes and daggers both Assassin and Lancer are pointing her way.

"Finish your little excursion in banditry on your own. Doctor, Rayshift me out."

"A-all right." Roman seems about as taken aback as I do. In a flash of light, she disappears.

"Right. What did I miss?" Caster sprints in, panting. "Wait, is that a dead horse?"

"Just... wrap up, and get ready to go."