The light died down, dimming into a low luminescence more resembling a nightlight than the supernova unleashed by Excalibur. As I was transported back, spacetime stitching itself back together, I let go of my Noble Phantasm. I felt my existence retract, a 'muscle' that wasn't there when I was a human loosening, tension vanishing like smoke from a fireplace.
A thin ray of light glimpsed my form as I appeared back in the Coffin. With a single hiss, the lid parted ways, and I stumbled out as if I were drunk. I glanced in Ritsuka's direction, expecting despair at worst, but finding tired serenity on his face.
Polar opposite to him, I was anything but serene. Seeing the Nameless God, the embodiment of those children who died unwanted, reminded me of my main mission.
It made me wonder what the hell I have been doing all this time.
Before I could spiral any further, the door to CHALDEAS opened up, and I spotted a familiar silhouette in the doorframe. Olga stood with her arms crossed, her face stern, yet her eyes betrayed a caring kindness within. It's like she wants to rush over and check on us, but appearances matter. She must keep up the facade of an in-control director to keep everyone from panicking at the end of the world.
"Ritsuka…" Olga trailed off; whatever she was about to say died on her tongue once she saw how tired we all were.
Even if I'm physically fine, I'm mentally exhausted. I feel like I want to move, to go somewhere, to do something that matters. Was this anxiety?
I turned to Ritsuka, "Ritsuka, you can go rest. I'll do the after-action report. Take Zvezdnyy with you." I then faced Olga, "We can do the Servant summoning tomorrow."
"Wait—what?! No! This cannot be the decree of fate! My beloved Polkovodets, do not cast me away into the abyss of solitude! I wish to stand by your side, to march beneath your banner, and witness the end of this grand saga together!" Zvezdnyy said as she teleported next to me, hugging my legs as one would a teddy bear. I placed a pacifying hand on her head.
Ritsuka looked like he wanted to protest. Adorable, really. Iskander cuts in as he strode confidently into the chamber. His pride untarnished, his smile just as wide as always, "For once, I agree with the Goddess. Even my slaves received proper rest."
I grimaced. The reminder that Iskander wrote the rules on brutality in ancient warfare slapped me across the face. I chose to ignore that, not bothering to comment as I placed a hand on Ritsuka's shoulder, "It'll be fine. Just— alright, Zvezdnyy, I'll be with you after I'm done here."
Zvezdnyy pouted. Her tiny hands grappled onto my clothing with surprising strength. I let out a sigh, not wanting to deal with this right now. I want some brainless reporting, something that I can just… do and not think. I'll keep the thinking later. "Zvezdnyy, I know you're tired; just, I'll join you after I'm done with reporting, alright?"
The battle lasted the whole night. I could tell Ritsuka was running on fumes based on the way his mind paused and his eyes zoomed in on a single point on the wall. With the battle now ending and the adrenaline stopping, Ritsuka is definitely going to crash sooner rather than later.
Zvezdnyy finally let go. "Very well…" She muttered, "Then I shall await your return!"
The girl then vanished. Probably teleported back to our room. With her gone, I let go of a sigh I didn't know I was holding. Ritsuka soon waved goodbye, but Iskander remained, "I would like to join the Director. I wish to hear what transpired. To learn the exploits of those under me after I was gone."
A strange eagerness bubbled from within me. An urge to drink in the inevitable Schadenfreude. To draw out a single ounce of horror from this prideful, selfish King would make my day like none other.
It didn't take long for us to reach Olga's office. The room was rather sparse, bereft of even the slightest bit of intimacy— no plants, not even a single framed photo sat on her desk. The only decoration was this bizarre statue shaped like a tree branch near the sofa. Everything else in this office was work-related. Da Vinci also joined us, wanting to know everything that had been missed during that period of blocked communication.
Iskander sat down on the sofa, but immediately regretted it as he spoke, "Woman, is this really the best sofa you have? Even the chairs in the cafeteria are better than these!"
Olga began apologizing profusely, but I exploded, "Shut the fuck up, Iskander. I'm not in the mood for your usual bullshit."
Iskander looked at me, eyes wide as if there was a second head between my shoulders. He fell into silence. Olga, too, looked surprised at my outburst, prompting me to apologize, "Sorry, the Singularity has been… especially draining…"
It reminded me of how every second I'm out here, playing the hero, people back in the SCP World could be dying and sent into that hell of endless stagnation. What the hell have I been doing?
Sometimes I really hate perfect memories. Because with perfect memories, I can't just forget or even suppress the month of time I spent in Jupiter's depths, mindlessly repeating the same task.
"Now, let me begin…" I started with how all of us were separated the moment we entered the Singularity, and a summary of everything that followed. Olga's face remained passive as I reported the Singularity in a tired, clinical tone.
This Singularity was definitely way different from the others. The Demon Gods are adapting to me, trying to find the chinks in my armor. If they can't kill me, then they'll target those who surround me. That just meant I'll need to end each Singularity faster.
But what if they destroy the Grail like in Orleans? Even if I didn't read the original FGO story, I'm sure the Grail had some lore purpose that goes beyond the gameplay purpose of upgrading the level limits of a Servant. I mean, the game even took the time to create lore blurbs for the various materials used to ascend a Servant, something I'm sure most people rarely even bothered reading.
After close to half an hour of reporting, I concluded, "…and with Artoria unleashing Excalibur, it burned away the remnant of that God of the Abyss. I'm assuming that, as the 'crystallization of humanity's hope', it was supereffective against such a being. The Holy Sword also had the unfortunate side effect of destroying the second Holy Grail present within the Singularity, leaving us only with one."
Olga kept up the passivity, yet given how I could hear her heart beating much faster, I think it's safe to say that passivity is merely a front. Da Vinci looked fascinated when I described how reality itself was engineered to reduce my effect, to work around the fact that I'm immune to the warping of physics. Iskander didn't depict any sadness, as if leading those people to their deaths affected him as much as squashing insects.
A few thousand years of distance was all it took to make Iskander almost alien in terms of common sense.
"I can understand how taxing it must be," Olga began, "But the fact that you guys pulled through deserves applause. I'll talk with Ritsuka later, maybe assign him a therapist."
"You do that. I'm going to go now," I said while rubbing the bridge of my nose as if it could relieve the tight cord inside me. I want to move. I want to go somewhere else. I can't rest.
This is probably anxiety.
I left Olga's office and quickly flew to my own room. As I went inside, I found the room dark. However, unlike in the Singularity, there's infrared here, so I took in all the details of the room regardless of the absence of visible light. Zvezdnyy was on the bed, her breathing deep— she's asleep.
"What the hell have you been doing, Kukulkan?" I mumbled to myself.
I flew into the washroom, closing the door and staring at my reflection. Given how dark this bathroom was, I saw myself in infrared, in colors the human eye could not comprehend, since it was never built to detect infrared light.
I stared at myself. This perfect self. This flawless self. This divine self.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked myself. Events of all that occurred in the Singularity rushed to the forefront of my mind like an embarrassing memory.
"What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?" I asked myself, a bit louder this time. I thought of all the deaths that might've occurred in the SCP World in the time I've spent dallying, playing around. I don't have time for stuff outside of clearing Singularities!
I want to solve the issue of Death within the SCP World. Every second I dally is one second more that people could be dying and being sent to that Island. To experience an unfettered eternity, to be trapped there with no escape. What worse hell could there be?
I stared at myself in disgust. All this power, and what have I been doing with it? Nothing more than playing around, I thought. I could've ended the Roman Singularity quickly by flying right towards Constantinople. I could've ended Okeanos by flying up into the air and scouring the ocean surface in search of Jason's crew. I could've searched for a needle in a haystack in London rather than waiting.
What challenge could Part 1 of FGO offer me when I was the last Lostbelt King of Part 2? I am the Heart of ORT. I have that resurrection ability. I am… for all intents and purposes… invincible.
So why the hell am I not doing more?
Why the hell am I playing around?
I gripped the sides of the sink, almost cracking it. Even if I encounter something that can counter my invincibility, there's… still something I can do about it. Undoubtedly, if I choose 'it', I will cease to exist in a way that humans can understand. That unknown… scares me a bit.
Hah, guess that's proof I still have a bit of humanity inside of me.
I let out a sigh I didn't realize I'd been holding. With my mind made up, I decided to take a bath even if I didn't need it per se; I just really wanted one. It's as if to wash me of all that occurred in the London Singularity.
It took a good few minutes for the water level in the tub to rise to an acceptable level. Once it did, I dismissed my clothing and dipped my toes into the water. I couldn't tell if it's too hot or too cold. It could be next to boiling or about to freeze for all the difference it matters to me.
I sank in. And relaxed, trying to untie this knot of bundled feeling inside of me. I tried to bury the restlessness underneath thoughts of the next Singularity. It was… the American one, right? I wasn't sure, since there were two Holy Grails in the London Singularity. Which of the latter Singularities did the enemy take it from?
I quietly hoped it wasn't Babylonia. I would like to ask some questions for Caster Gilgamesh. The wisdom of the Wise King would be an immensely powerful treasure in my adventure.
Regardless, I'll know eventually.
Oh, the water stopped steaming. I guess that meant it's cooled. I rose from the bath, the water draining away as I rubbed my forehead.
Do I regret taking on the burden of saving the SCP World?
"…no, I don't." I reminded myself. I am a hero. I want to be more than just a slaver like what must be most Company Contractors.
Flexing the Divine Authority of the Water, I dried myself off before slipping into the sheets beside Zvezdnyy. As much as I try, sleep does not take me. My mind remains too restless.
Did I really forget about my original purpose? No, as fun as this… I thought about my adventure with Ritsuka, the time I've spent with him, the time he's spent with Zvezdnyy and me. For a brief instant, I imagined myself staying with Ritsuka, helping him run the bakery that he once dreamed of opening after all is said and done.
I imagined myself taking the raw dough and placing it inside the oven barehanded. Ritsuka would rush over, worried, only to notice I'm fine as I can candle supernova-levels of temperature.
I metaphorically tore that imagination in half.
"…"
No, we are of different worlds. This sidetrack has indeed been fun, but I think it's time to return to the 'main road', so to speak.
____
Zvezdnyy Rebenok
What does a reality warper dream of when they could make their dream reality?
People dream of things they want but do not have. They dream of experiences they once had, relationships that once existed, or an idealized, nostalgic past. But a reality warper can make all that in truth. They could relive all those moments and make the impossible possible.
So, what do they dream?
They do not.
For most of Zvezdnyy's life, whenever she slept, the girl never dreamed. For her, sleep was what she thought death was: a thoughtless tunnel through which one's consciousness goes, when vast eternities pass by with no more loudness than the quantum rumbling of a single atom as it flickers in and out of the Real. That was how she comprehended the irreversible end: to send something spiraling into an eternal thoughtless journey.
In truth, Zvezdnyy doesn't even need to sleep. It is just her doing what the cold researchers and her mentor said she should do. The girl could very easily stay up all night and not feel the least bit tired come the sun's rise the next day.
Thus, in her eyes, Zvezdnyy sees dreaming and sleeping as ways to skip time. To skip long periods of boredom.
Yet now, tucked inside her Polkovodets's bed, Zvezdnyy dreamed.
She dreamed of impossible things. 'Things' that do not exist. 'Things' that cannot be affected by her wishes. She dreamed of how 'things' should be.
She dreamed of that 'thing' moving away from her. No matter how hard she tried to grasp it with her 'hands', that 'thing' was pulled along by a cosmic chain, an archetypal idea that it could not escape from.
When Zvezdnyy woke up, she found herself remaining inside her Polkovodets's bed, with the owner of the bed lying right beside her. The girl's arms snaked towards her Polkovodets, entwining her waist as if Zvezdnyy was hugging a teddy bear. She buried her face inside the soft mounds atop her Polkovodets's chest, using them like pillows. The sad dream soon vanished underneath the warmth of her Polkovodets.
"Ah, you're awake, Zvezdnyy." Her Polkovodets remarked. Zvezdnyy felt a hand caress her scalp, and she nudged into it, wanting to feel more of her Polkovodets. She mimicked how a cat would purr, since purring meant someone enjoyed the attention, right?
However, the enjoyable moment lasted too short as her Polkovodets soon let go. She then asked Zvezdnyy, "Could you go check on Ritsuka? I'm still worried about him."
Zvezdnyy felt an intense feeling of… revulsion? It was some unpleasant feeling concerning Ritsuka, but it quickly went away like a balloon on a windy day.
"Very well, my Polkovodets. I shall entrust myself to the flow of destiny and follow wherever your command leads." With but a thought, Zvezdnyy appeared in front of Ritsuka's door. Fully clothed in her usual outfit, the girl raised a hand and was about to knock on the door before it slid open.
"Hmm? Director Olga? What strange twist of fate has brought you before me? Why does one who commands such authority descend upon this humble stage? Tell me, what grand purpose guides your arrival?" Zvezdnyy said as she tilted her head.
Director Olga stood in the doorway as if she were about to leave. The woman froze, her face one of surprise. There were wounds upon Olga's neck, soft marks that almost resembled hand-prints.
What is she doing here, in Ritsuka's room in the morning? Was she wrong? Was she in front of Director Olga's room?
Zvezdnyy double-checked her memory, and it was indeed Ritsuka's room. So, why would the Director be here? Was she trying to cheer up Ritsuka like her Polkovodets would do for Zvezdnyy? But more importantly—
"Are you harmed, Director Olga? My eyes do not deceive me—the marks upon your neck bear the shadow of some cruel encounter. What calamity has befallen you? "
"I, uh…" Olga stammered. Zvezdnyy's eyes focused on Olga's hair, finding them to be more out of place than usual. Then her gaze moved down, her focus turning to the clothing she wore. It was even stranger than the hair. They looked unkempt, disheveled, with bits of tears in them.
That's very strange. Director Olga was always impeccable top to bottom, so why would she be so… tardy? Zvezdnyy didn't understand, so the girl asked, "What manner of state is this? Have you truly descended before me in such a humble and disheveled guise? The wielder of such authority should shine like a beacon of grandeur, not appear as though she has been stripped of her ceremonial radiance!"
The Director took in a deep breath. Her face burned red as if she were in a sauna. "Well, I was … checking up on Ritsuka to… see if he's alright." Olga began twirling a strand of hair, "I got a report of how mentally draining the last Singularity was, so—"
At that moment, Ritsuka walked out of the bathroom. His lower half was covered by a towel, and his hair was prickly from the water. Strangely, there were almost bite marks around Ritsuka's shoulder. Upon seeing Zvezdnyy, he immediately backed into the bathroom and closed the door once he crossed the threshold.
Director Olga glared at the closed bathroom door. Slowly, her head turned back to Zvezdnyy. "I was just checking up on Ritsuka, and I forgot to… tidy up my clothes this morning. As for these bruises, it's just some experiments with magecraft gone wrong."
Zvezdnyy nodded, though the girl could sense falsehood in that statement. "Are you certain you are unharmed? Those marks upon you are a stain left by some cruel hand of fate. If only you would allow me to invoke the power of my wish—"
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine; there's no need for you to worry." Olga immediately said, feeling she wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. She is unusually panicky. "If you'll excuse me, I should go and do some last-minute preparation for the Servant summoning."
Olga then hurriedly strode away, leaving Zvezdnyy to once again be standing in front of Ritsuka's room, with the door sliding back closed.
"What a peculiar dawn this has become. Truly, the threads of fate have woven together the strangest of circumstances for this day's opening act."
The girl then raised a hand and knocked on the door once again. She asked as though she hadn't just seen Ritsuka, "Ritsuka, are you unharmed? Has some unseen calamity befallen you?"
Silence, then Ritsuka choked out, "I'm… fine? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"My Polkovodets has issued a command—to ensure your well-being, for reasons veiled even to me. So I ask you now: are you alright? Speak plainly, so I may report back without distortion to her will!"
"Oh, you can tell Kuku that I'm fine. There's no need to worry. I will fight for human history no matter what."
Zvezdnyy nodded, not bothering to talk to Ritsuka any further, and teleported back to her Polkovodets's room. She found her Polkovodets oddly pacing around the place, restless as her fingers twitched. Was this feeling jealousy? That her Polkovodets would care so much for someone else?
"Ritsuka appears to be in good health, so he claims. Yet… for some inexplicable reason, Director Olga was present in his room this very morning. A most curious convergence of circumstances, wouldn't you say?" Zvezdnyy said, before placing a finger on her chin as she dove deep into her thoughts.
"She what?" Her Polkovodets said, her restless pacing stopped, and her face looked as though it spotted some incredulous thing.
"Strange indeed… both bore bruises upon their forms, yet offering explanations as fragile as glass—'magecraft accidents,' she claims? Hah… how conveniently obscure. And Ritsuka as well, marked by similar signs?" Zvezdnyy asked her Polkovodets, "What could have caused such effects?"
That incredulous look melted away into a downcast expression before freezing back into one of passivity. "…no, this is for the best…" Her Polkovodets mumbled. She replied, "I… think I do. I'll tell you more when you're older, okay, Zvezdnyy?"
The girl frowned. An idea appeared in her mind about physically maturing her body so she's 'older,' but she shook that idea away. "If you deem it wise, my Polkovodets, then I shall abide without hesitation."
It was in the afternoon when the Servant summoning occurred. Mash's shield sat in the center of this room while the rest of Ritsuka's Servants stood around it in a circle. Her Polkovodets stood next to Ritsuka. Zvezdnyy didn't feel revulsion towards Ritsuka, for she was closer to her Polkovodets than she was.
Ritsuka chanted, and a flash of light eclipsed the room, bathing all in its blinding brilliance.
Once the light vanished, a figure stood atop the shield. He— She was a woman of almost peerless beauty, with body proportions of being just about perfect in Zvezdnyy's eyes. With long, flowing purple hair and red eyes, wielding an equally bloody red barbed spear, she casts a menacing feeling on all observing. However, that menace was tempered by her skin-tight outfit, as if to distract enemies, making them lose just enough focus that in a high-level battle, it would be the difference between life and death.
"I came from the Land of Shadow. My name is Scathach. I guess I should call you, Master?"
AN: Alright, the original plan was for Nursery Rhyme to be summoned, but then I realized, realistically speaking, Nursery Rhyme is most likely gonna get killed. So I opted to go for a Servant that would've been summoned after Camelot, hereby Scathach is here early.
Your comments gives me motivation, I need a lot of motivation to pump out chapters faster.