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It's over.
The whistle of the bullet was one Wayne recognized now — Maverick's deaths had given him an excellent reference point for what incoming fire sounded like in this game. The trajectory, the angle, the speed. He'd stepped off the plane right into someone's pre-aimed crosshair.
His brain was already doing the math on the black screen when something happened instead.
A crisp metallic clang — sharp, resonant, the sound of something hard meeting something harder at speed.
Then a flash of gold.
"Step back, Master!"
Artoria had moved between him and the bullet so fast he hadn't tracked the motion — she was simply there, sword raised, the invisible blade trailing golden light where it had split the incoming round clean down the middle. Two halves of a rifle bullet clinked onto the tarmac at separate angles.
Her armor had reappeared over the suit. Her expression had gone from composed to something considerably sharper.
"Truly despicable," she said, to the rooftop across the road rather than to Wayne. "To target the Master directly, without so much as acknowledging me. Wind King Hammer."
[Chat]: SHE DEFLECTED A BULLET
[Losing_It]: WITH A SWORD
[Lore_Correct]: this is accurate to her power level, Artoria at full strength is terrifying
[Comparing]: okay Zhao Zilong did seven passes through enemy lines — do you think he'd get shot by a pistol? Artoria at this level is the same thing
[Actually_Answering]: I can picture it
[Moving_On]: THE ANGER ON HER FACE IS SO GOOD
Wayne stepped back as instructed and got his first clear look at the shooter. A figure on the rooftop across the street — trench coat, familiar silhouette. He ran the character model against what he'd been seeing in Maverick's stream all week.
Emiya Kiritsugu. Another player, same starting character, same loadout.
The other player was staring at Artoria with an expression Wayne could read even at distance: they'd been completely certain of the headshot. They were not certain of anything anymore.
Artoria charged.
Not dramatically — no wind-up, no announcement. One moment she was on the ground, the next she was covering the distance between them at a speed that made Wayne's eyes struggle to track it. The other player recovered fast, dropped the Walther WA2000, and pulled the Calico M950 from inside the trench coat — fifty-round submachine gun, and they used all of it, or tried to.
Artoria rotated her wrist once.
The bullets hit the invisible wind barrier around her blade and scattered. Not deflected one by one — scattered, as a group, the entire burst redirected in the time it took to blink. The disturbance of air from the deflection was what reached the other player first, a wall of pressure that staggered them back half a step, and then Artoria was already there, sword raised.
The slash came down clean.
[First_Blood]: THEN! FIRST BLOOD!
[Silent]: ...
[Still_Silent]: ...
[Processing]: I didn't have a concept of Servant strength before this moment. I do now.
[Magnitude]: she didn't even slow down for the machine gun fire. she deflected fifty rounds by moving her wrist.
[Downloading_Faster]: I am downloading this game faster through willpower alone
[Converting]: I am now a fan of this girl. I was not before. I am now.
[CEO_Energy]: omnipotent internet — five minutes. I want Artoria's full profile. Go.
[Camping_Complaint]: can we talk about the fact that this is the third time someone's been camped at the landing zone? the airport sniping meta is out of control
[Agreement]: you basically can't land without a Servant and even then you're gambling
[Observation]: wait. look at the right side of the screen.
Wayne had already noticed.
Artoria had been about to press the advantage — first blood, opponent down, clean kill — when her expression changed. Suddenly and completely. The momentum of her forward motion redirected sideways, a ninety-degree turn executed in the air that should have been physically impossible, wind from her own blade carrying her clear of her previous position.
Where she'd been standing, a column of water hit the ground with the force of a small explosion. The tarmac cracked. A crater, three feet deep, still steaming.
Wayne stared at it.
"Are you alright, Master?"
"I'm — yeah. That was close. Thank you, Ar—" He caught himself. "Saber."
She nodded, the slight correction registered and filed. "Outside, use my codename. Our identities as Servants are an advantage while they remain unknown."
"Right. Sorry." He looked toward the source of the water column. "Who—"
"Indeed." A voice from the direction of the attack — light, faintly amused, carrying the specific tone of someone who found the situation entertaining. "I hadn't expected you to be here."
The figure who had fired the water column landed — or rather, descended, with the unhurried grace of someone who operated comfortably at height. The other Kiritsugu — the one Artoria had taken down — was in their arms, caught mid-fall before hitting the ground, in what was unmistakably a dramatic rescue.
The new arrival set the rescued player on their feet. Straightened up. And looked across the tarmac at Artoria.
She was wearing a white swimsuit with blue bow accents.
She was also, unmistakably, Artoria.
The same face. The same gold hair. The same ahoge, slightly wind-displaced from the landing. An expression rather than armor, and an expression that was considerably more entertained than the one Artoria beside Wayne was currently wearing.
Artoria beside Wayne had gone very still.
"You shameless version of me," she said, at a carefully controlled volume. "What exactly are you wearing."
"A Spirit Origin optimized for summer enjoyment," the other Artoria replied pleasantly. "Aren't you hot in all that armor? It really does look heavy."
"WHAT!!"
[Chat]: TWO ARTORIAS
[Confirming]: THERE ARE TWO ARTORIAS
[Lore_Unlocked]: okay so the game solved the duplicate character problem by giving Artoria multiple variant forms — different classes, different designs
[Approved]: I approve of this solution completely
[Swimsuit_Opinion]: the swimsuit Artoria is also incredible actually
[Saber_Defending]: armor Artoria is better
[Both_Sides]: why are we choosing, we have two
[Reading_The_Room]: Artoria is arguing with herself and I have never felt more at peace
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