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"Wayne, that's disgusting!"
"Why are you blushing?!"
"Oh, please — what's the big deal? It's nothing special."
[Pants_First]: put your pants on before you talk, then your words might mean something
[Dating_Question]: wait so with the favorability system, can you actually date historical figures? someone test if Cleopatra is in this game
[Chaos]: you want to be the cause of someone's downfall too?
[Encouraging]: Wayne, chin up, don't embarrass us
The debate in Maverick's chat had achieved a kind of organized chaos — multiple threads running simultaneously, half of them about Artoria's design, a quarter about the favorability system's implications, and the remaining quarter simply yelling Wayne's name at intervals.
The man in question — Wayne, who had been watching Maverick's stream while also running his own — was currently experiencing a very specific kind of problem.
By Maverick's chat standards, his was considerably smaller. Forty thousand viewers, maybe fifty on a good night, mostly regulars who came for his commentary style rather than any particular gaming skill. He'd been watching the Artoria summoning on his second monitor while half-heartedly running his own stream when the chat explosion had convinced him to log in and try it himself.
That had been two hours ago.
He didn't know it had been two hours. He'd lost track entirely.
What he did know was that Artoria was standing in front of him, having just finished a brief introduction, and she had extended her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Artoria Pendragon." Her voice was measured, formal, carrying the specific authority of someone who had commanded armies without raising it. "Let us work together toward victory in the Holy Grail War."
Wayne shook her hand.
His chat had several thoughts about this.
[Protective]: Wayne. Let go. Those hands are not for you.
[Resigned]: he's not going to let go
[Resigned2]: he is absolutely not letting go
[Analyzing]: the handshake animation is so natural, look at the finger placement, this is not a stock animation
[Story_Mode_Player]: why is Artoria's attitude way colder in story mode? she's warm with Wayne
[Downloading_Forever]: my download has been going for two hours and I'm at 1GB
[Response]: change internet cafes
[Harsher_Response]: move
[Generous]: come to my place, I have fast internet and a spare room
[Warning]: do not go to that person's place
Wayne, completely unaware of how long he'd been playing, led Artoria back through the church and out to the airport — his second time through the process, though it felt nothing like the first. Having someone next to him changed the entire texture of the game. The haptic feedback now included a secondary presence: footsteps beside his, the slight shift of air when she moved, the particular quality of silence that came from someone being nearby versus being alone.
Before heading to security, he stopped at the shops lining the departures hall.
He didn't have any money — Max hadn't given starting currency to any of the player characters, deliberately. If you wanted something, you figured out how to get it. Suggestion worked. Wayne had gotten reasonably competent with it after watching Maverick's early attempts.
He picked out a black suit for Artoria — she'd been in armor since the summoning, and armor at an airport was, practically speaking, an issue — and negotiated a shopping bag of snacks through eye contact and carefully worded suggestions to the cashier.
The food was for Artoria. He'd felt bad not offering.
She ate with the focused seriousness of someone who had not had access to modern snacks and was approaching the situation as a tactical assessment. Each item evaluated, sampled, filed away. The ahoge — the single strand of hair that curved up from the top of her head — moved slightly when she found something she approved of.
[Deceased]: THE AHOGE MOVES WHEN SHE EATS
[Also_Deceased]: I am not okay
[Wanting]: I want to pull it
[Do_Not]: do NOT pull it
[Would_Die_For]: Wayne is literally raising a daughter right now and I'm so emotional about it
[Suit_Opinion]: the black suit is doing something to me specifically
[Suit_Opinion2]: she looks incredible, Wayne made the right call
[Historical_Opinion]: Arthur should be a large bearded man. I stand by this.
[Spreading_Word]: pass it on: Wayne is being intimate with a large bearded man
Wayne watched Artoria carefully finish a granola bar, lick a crumb from the corner of her mouth with complete dignity, and felt something settle in his chest that he didn't entirely have words for.
He'd only known her for — he checked — apparently two hours. That couldn't be right. It felt like longer.
On the plane, destination selector open in front of him, he hesitated.
Fuyuki City was the red dot. The war. Where everything was going to happen.
He'd also watched Maverick get headshot stepping off a plane. Twice.
Artoria was sitting across the aisle, looking out the window at the accelerating landscape below, and something about the situation made Wayne genuinely reluctant to point that golden hair at a sniper's scope.
"Hey," he said. "Can I ask you something?"
She turned from the window.
"I'm a little worried," he admitted. "Last time I landed at Fuyuki, someone was waiting with a sniper rifle. I stepped off the plane and — " He made a vague gesture. "Gone. Instantly."
Artoria was quiet for a moment.
Then she said: "You are worried about me."
"I'm worried about you getting shot, yeah."
Something in her expression shifted — not softened exactly, but adjusted, the way a very serious person adjusted when they encountered something they hadn't quite anticipated.
"Don't worry, Master," she said. "I will protect you. Please trust my strength." She said it simply, without performance. "You are the best Master — and I am naturally the best Servant. Moreover, a Servant's capabilities exceed what you might imagine. Though I have not handled a sniper rifle personally, we Servants receive corresponding modern knowledge through the Holy Grail upon summoning. With my strength, deflecting bullets is well within my ability."
Wayne looked at her for a moment.
She looked back, steady, completely certain.
He nodded.
Selected Fuyuki City.
The plane window cycled through day into night into dawn. The city materialized below. The landing, the tarmac, the mobile staircase — Wayne descended slowly, Artoria one step behind him, and as his foot touched the ground he heard the sound he'd been dreading.
A rushing whistle. From directly ahead.
The bullet was already moving.
"I have Artoria — who dares kill me?! Who even can?!"
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