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"Alright — the alliance is formed. But before we deal with Caster, we need to handle the Columbus army first."
"Obviously. But Rider—" Artoria's voice carried the specific patience of someone managing their irritation very carefully. "If your plan involves killing all one thousand of them individually, please spare us the proposal."
"Relax, Saber. I observed something during my passes through the formation." Rider's tone was brisk, efficient — the voice of someone who processed combat information on the move and didn't waste it. "Among the mass-produced units, there are a few marked differently. Their laugh is distinct."
"Columbus~" (Columbus)
"Exactly like that. I believe they function as commanders — something like queen bees. Eliminate those, and the rest fall into disarray. After that, we advance on Caster and cut the source entirely. Then it's just cleanup."
"How many captains?" A-bro asked.
"Three. And they must be eliminated simultaneously — I tested this. I took one out on an earlier pass and within a minute, the mass-produced units generated a replacement. They can revive each other if any are left standing." She looked between the four of them. "So. Three targets. Three groups. One minute window."
Lancer Artoria tilted her head appreciatively. "To notice that level of detail at those speeds, under those conditions — you're not an unknown hero, Rider."
"You flatter me, Lancer." A hint of something warm in the acknowledgment, quickly set aside. "The plan is straightforward: split into three pairs, take the captain-types simultaneously, then converge on Caster's location. Your phones all have the coordinates."
"Works for me," Maverick said.
"Same," said A-bro's partner.
"Then it's decided."
The six hands came together in the middle, overlapped once, and dropped. Three pairs, three directions, based on Rider's position data. And then everyone moved.
[Chat]: I'M HYPED
[Hyped]: this is a battle royale co-op mode with an actual plot mission. you're telling me there's a boss fight.
[Rider_Fan]: the green-haired Servant noticed the captain mechanic mid-flight at those speeds. genuinely impressive. brave AND intelligent.
[Naming_Discussion]: "Brother Green Grass"
[Counter_Name]: "Brother Forage"
[Protective]: you will NOT give my Servant a nickname like that
[Also_Protective]: he's not your Servant
[Maverick_Observation]: everyone stop talking for a second — is Maverick about to be princess-carried
[Looking]: ...
[Confirming]: HE IS
[Screenshotting]: everyone screenshot this. this is rare. Maverick is being carried princess-style.
The five-minute countdown to simultaneous elimination had started. Artoria, assigned the nearest captain-type — the only group without a mount — began moving immediately.
She didn't run so much as accelerate, sword drawing into afterimages as she pushed through the Columbus swarm, Excalibur's invisible wind carving golden corridors through the mass of figures. Every unit that moved into her path dissolved before it could register as an obstacle. Not fighting her way through — erasing her way through, the way a point of light moved through dark water.
Maverick watched from a rooftop vantage point and felt something he hadn't expected: relief.
He'd been watching Rider clear the field like a meteor and running an uncomfortable calculation about whether Artoria could match that output. The answer, visible now at full sprint, was yes. The gap in his chest he hadn't fully acknowledged closed.
His Artoria was also very strong.
The captain-type saw her coming. Its expression cycled through something that might have been fear before settling into the grinning menace that all the Columbus figures shared as a default state. It signaled to the surrounding units, and the mass-produced army responded immediately — flowing forward in a human wall between Artoria and the target, locusts by instinct, buying the captain time to retreat.
Artoria stopped. Looked at the wall.
The invisible wind around Excalibur began to move differently.
Not the controlled precision of close-quarters deflection — something larger, building, the kind of release that started from the center of the body and moved outward. Mana Burst. Not a hint of it, not a controlled application — maximum output, pushing into the Noble Phantasm, the invisible sword suddenly blazing with compressed golden light and a vortex of wind that had weight to it.
She waved her hand.
The wall of Columbus figures — units, captain, everything in that arc — turned into golden particles simultaneously. Not swept aside. Erased. The way an eraser went through chalk marks on a board: clean, complete, no remainder.
[Chat]: SABER ARTORIA
[Silent]: ...
[Still_Silent]: she was holding back this whole time
[Lore_Check]: Mana Burst at full output pushing into Excalibur's invisible wind — the stat difference between that and what she was doing in normal combat is enormous
[Putting_In_Perspective]: the Columbus army was a sustained threat against two Artorias at medium output. one Artoria at full output just cleared a quadrant.
[Rider_Fan]: okay Rider and Saber Artoria are both scary
[Both_Fan]: correct
The units remaining in Artoria's vicinity — the ones that had been charging with the specific focused aggression of something that knew what it was doing — went blank. Eyes losing focus mid-stride, bodies still moving forward but no longer aimed, the puppet-strings cut.
Artoria made several small backward jumps, landing in front of Maverick on the rooftop, and then without stopping or asking, slid her arm under his knees and lifted.
"Don't move, Master. The posture isn't ideal for you, but it's our fastest method of movement."
Maverick, currently horizontal in the arms of a fifteen-year-old who was also over thirty and had just erased a hundred Columbus figures with a gesture, took a moment.
"...Alright."
What else was there to say.
He was also, he realized, exhausted in a way that had crept up on him — staying up past 2 AM in a haptic feedback system apparently had cumulative physical effects, real or simulated. The body had opinions. He closed his eyes.
This was fine. This was completely normal. He was not thinking about what the chat was saying right now.
[Chat]: MAVERICK
[Chat]: MAVERICK YOUR FACE
[Noting]: he closed his eyes. he accepted it. he is at peace.
[Also_Noting]: Artoria is running at full speed through a city while carrying a grown man and her expression has not changed
[This_Is_Fine]: everything about this is fine
The three pairs converged on Ryudou Temple from different angles. Rider's chariot came in from the north, A-bro's group from the east. Artoria, still carrying Maverick, covered the remaining ground at a pace that made the city blur.
Inside the temple, in the main hall where Ashiya Doman had arranged his territory, something changed.
He'd been seated cross-legged in front of his magical energy array — calm, composed, the picture of a Caster operating well within expected parameters — when the feeling shifted. A small sound at the back of his awareness. A disturbance in the signals he'd set.
His expression moved.
His laugh shifted into something he'd never used before — quieter, and somehow worse.
The player turned from the temple entrance. "What's wrong?"
"Master." Ashiya Doman's voice had gone very quiet, the theatrical warmth replaced with something considerably more real. "I believe I may have miscalculated."
"What?"
"All three captain-type Columbus have been eliminated. Simultaneously." He paused. "Three magical energy signatures are converging on our location. And a fourth—" Another pause, longer. "A fourth has already triggered my perimeter alarm. From inside the temple."
"What!"
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