Ren sighed as he sat down against a building. He was covered in soot and dust from all the fires. His armor had gashes and scrapes from deflecting blades and arrows. All around him, soldiers were busy cleaning up, reorganizing supplies, or loading the dead onto carts so they could be cremated outside. Within the building were many of the wounded as medics tended to them. There had been no small number of casualties from the battle and there would probably be more before long from their wounds.
His circuits burned as he rested his head against the wall. Aside from using his personas to secure the walls and made sure URE soldiers didn’t spill over like ants, he also used them to heal as many soldiers as he could as well. He prioritized those who were grievously injured first – as much as he wanted to heal everyone, he simply didn’t have the energy for it without completely burning out his circuits and body. Even now, after treating those who were on death’s door, his circuits felt like liquid metal in his veins.
He glanced over as a medic walked out, carrying a body and loading it onto the cart sitting nearby. He had to close his eyes in frustration. Although he healed as many as he could, it hadn’t been nearly enough. Medical supplies were already stretched considerably thin, and as usual, the URE didn’t have much in terms of supplies to take. Whether the soldiers lived or died now was simply a matter of will and luck.
Tilting his head up, he watched the smoke from extinguished fires curl into the air, illuminated by the morning sun. The western half of the city was in ruins despite their best efforts. The assault yesterday had been more controlled and coordinated, with a focus on capturing the city and keeping casualties to a minimum. Today, Alexander had prioritized victory at all costs, which meant widespread destruction and utilizing his men as a tidal wave of soldiers. It was brutal, but effective.
After Alexander’s death, the tide started turning drastically towards their favor. The URE officers, already with low morale, almost unanimously broke and ran. They were easy to spot – they were the only ones moving away from the city compared to the automaton soldiers. It was child’s play for Jing Ke to hunt each of them down and capture them, not even needing to kill them. A bit of coercion was all that was needed to order them to halt the lion’s share of the URE army, and from there it was simply a matter of cleanup.
However, it came at a steep cost. A great number of the Roman supplies had been literally and figuratively burnt out in the desperate defense, and the city would require much time and resources to rebuild. The walls were in poor shape and the gate was in tatters, rendering garrisoning the city considerably harder. Out of the fifteen hundred soldiers in Nero’s army, approximately three hundred of them were dead, and a further two hundred were injured. The former figure would’ve been even higher had Ren not been healing those critically injured.
Thus, there was little they could do now but hole up in Massilia and wait for the other forces to reconvene as planned. Those uninjured and still fit for duty were assigned to repair what they could, using scraps of the gate and rubble to set up barricades as well as hauling yet more pitch and arrows to the top of the walls. Everyone was exhausted and there was no small amount of grumbling, yet they all worked as they were supposed to.
Ren rubbed his eyes as he felt the fatigue settle deep into his bones. Now that the adrenaline of combat was gone, he could feel his muscles protesting from the strain he had put them through. He could barely move and his thoughts were incredibly sluggish. He felt incredibly tired and could probably nod off then and there, yet at the same time he wasn’t. The pass had been more exhausting, but this entire battle had been draining in an entirely different way.
“Here. You probably need this.”
Blinking, he looked up to see Jing Ke offering him a water bottle – a fresh one too from what he had in his room. “Make it count though,” she warned. “Most of the other bottles were ruined when your house burned. Unless you’re up for being my drinking buddy again.”
She grinned jokingly at the suggestion, causing Ren to laugh despite his exhaustion. “Thanks, Jing Ke,” he said gratefully, taking the bottle. Opening it, he took a small sip. The liquid was nothing less than cool, sweet relief for his parched, dusty throat. He glanced over as Jing Ke sat beside him, taking out her own jug and chugging it. “Surprised there was still any wine available.”
The Assassin shrugged. “Most of the supplies were for the officers so they got the good stuff,” she replied. “I asked the emperor for a jug and she just gave me one. I think it was the wine Alexander and Waver brought the other night. They definitely had good taste in liquor, that’s for sure.” So saying, she drank some more. Ren observed her. Despite his exhaustion, he could see that underneath Jing Ke’s usual serenity, there was a certain amount of stress he hadn’t seen from her before.
“Everything alright?” Ren asked, catching her attention as she glanced over. “You look like you have something on your mind.”
Jing Ke opened her mouth to answer, then sighed. “Well, you’d think someone like me has seen it all, with all the court intrigues from my time,” she muttered. “It’s honestly not too different here, but it doesn’t mean it’s not ugly whenever I see it.”
“What do you mean?” Ren asked.
She stared down into the jug pensively, like it contained her memories. “When those United Roman Empire officers were interrogated,” she quietly said. “They told us their compatriots had been poisoned by one of their own. They don’t know who exactly or what, but they were all watching their backs. And then they found Alexander in the command tent, his sword bloody as he stood over the body of Waver.”
Sighing, she took another swig. “It’s all stuff I’ve seen before in so many courts,” she continued. “But honestly, I never got used to it. It’s probably why it’s so easy for me to kill off officials and emperors like that – you learn to distance yourself from all that insanity. Hell, you learn to take advantage of it too. I have.”
Ren blinked in surprise. “Wait, I thought you hated it?” he asked.
Jing Ke raised an eyebrow. “Hate it? Why?” she inquired. “Like I said, I’m used to it. And if I can take advantage of it to do my job, then all the better. It’s just…” The Assassin frowned as she figured out how to word it. “This whole situation doesn’t sit right with me. Like there’s something incredibly insidious behind all of this that worked in our favor for now.”
“Is that right?” Ren murmured. How the hell was he going to tell her – or rather, tell anyone – that Loki was behind all this? At minimum, he needed to tell Chaldea as well as Morgana and Ritsu so they knew what they were dealing with. But if word got out among their allies here, then any trust they had would completely evaporate.
But still, that begged the question: Why now? Loki could’ve invoked psychotic breakdowns at any time, allies and enemies alike. They could’ve invoked it on Leonidas back at the pass and completely stalled any other tactic besides charging at them like a literal berserker. Considering their penchant for vanishing and reappearing where they wished, it wasn’t like reaching their targets was an issue either. And while the trickster god was on their side, that certainly didn’t mean they were excused from being inflicted with psychotic breakdowns as well for their own purposes.
Then his instincts flared slightly. Glancing over, he noticed Jing Ke staring right at him. “You know something,” she said. It wasn’t a question or suspicion – her tone was flat and blunt. It was a statement, and Ren knew that lying to her was an exercise in futility. Not to mention, it was disrespectful given all she had done for them at this point.
To that end, Ren just sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Some suspicions, but nothing confirmed,” he replied truthfully. It wasn’t like Loki directly answered what exactly they did. After all that had happened, the Avenger had vanished. While Ren could still reach them mentally, they refused to respond or talk. While he was tempted to use a command seal to order them back, right now he was far too tired and busy to deal with the situation. At the very least, they weren’t causing any more trouble, which was probably the best he could hope for at this point.
Jing Ke frowned before shrugging. “If you say so,” she replied before taking another swig of her wine. Ren could only inwardly sigh. He had absolutely no doubt she would be spying on him in the near future to figure out what exactly happened. Then she would report to Nero and go from there. Nero trusted him a great deal, but how much would that trust hold after that? Especially if the information was given out of context?
Again, he could only sigh. The only way out of this he could think of was to directly talk to Nero and tell her what had happened and what he knew. Anything less would only cause unnecessary discord between them – something they couldn’t afford right now. He would have to wait until night, however. He hadn’t seen even a sign of Nero recently, but he had no doubt she had her hands full dealing with everything right now.
An outburst of murmurs caught their attention. Glancing up, both of them watched with surprise as Joan stepped up, carrying the body of a Roman soldier in her arms. She stopped to ask another soldier a question, who then pointed her to a nearby cart filled with other corpses of Roman soldiers. Nodding in thanks, she walked over to deposit the body on the cart – and stared at it, lost in her own thoughts.
Ren and Jing Ke glanced at each other before the former heaved himself up, his muscles all screaming in protest as he did so, and shambled towards the Lancer. “Did you know the guy?” Ren asked out of curiosity, glancing down at the body. The man’s armor was so heavily burnt that parts were melting onto his body. There were also numerous arrow wounds as well, though they didn’t seem to be bleeding.
Joan blinked in surprise at Ren’s presence, then nodded stiffly, looking back at the body. “Lucius,” she answered. “Didn’t talk much with him – I just happened to help him and a few cohorts of his when a cart full of pitch nearly tipped over. One of those fire pots caught him while he was trying to put out another fire.”
She breathed out a long breath. “He was telling me how pitch tended to burn rather well,” she muttered. “Guess he didn’t expect to experience it firsthand.”
The Phantom Thief nodded at the tale. He had to look away from the body; the gruesome burn wounds and melted metal were honestly hard to look at even for a short period of time. Yet Joan kept staring at the body as she wrestled with her thoughts. “Did he have any family?” he asked quietly. “They’ll probably want the body back for a burial, or at least maybe something to remember him by.”
The Lancer shook her head. “No family,” she replied. “Wife and sons died. Checked with some other soldiers to make sure.”
She glanced up at Ren. “Were you the one who did all this?” she asked flatly. Though her tone was calm, Ren could see the smoldering flames in her eyes. Though he was used to her wrath, he certainly didn’t fully expect it here.
“Not in the slightest,” he replied bluntly, easily meeting her eyes.
The two stared down one another in a moment of tense silence before Joan sighed, breaking it. “Yeah, this doesn’t seem like your style,” she grumbled, staring back down at the body. “You have any idea whose plan it was, then?”
Ren hesitated for a second. Instead of answering her verbally, he simply transmitted the answer mentally. Joan narrowed her eyes at the answer. Instead of replying or saying anything, she turned on her heel and stalked away. The Phantom Thief could only watch her go. He knew he couldn’t stop her, but he trusted her regardless to restrain herself if necessary.
Jing Ke popped up beside him, watching Joan’s cloaked back recede. “You sure you don’t need any?” she asked, holding up the jug.
He could only sigh in response.
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Ruins to the left and right of her. Smoke permeating the air. The uncomfortable warmth of leftover flames and embers. The smell of burnt wood, oil, chemicals, and most of all, flesh. Massilia was normally a beautiful city, but the siege had left its wounds and scars on the west side. It would take much repair and cleaning to restore it to its glory once more.
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Joan stomped through the city. As she walked, the soldiers saw her expression and moved to either side of her, terrified to even address her. Soon enough, the soldiers had thinned enough that they mostly kept to their own paths – they all had their jobs to do, after all, mostly centered around the wall. There would be fewer soldiers the farther she walked. Still, despite trying to keep her eyes ahead and her mind focused, she couldn’t help but glance about her – and down at the uncollected bodies.
Slowing down, she eventually stopped. There was no one around her now, which was her intention. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look around her. The architecture was different. The smell was different. The climate and surroundings were different. And yet the sight of burnt bodies, of crumbling buildings, and the smoke rising from the air… All of it was far, far too familiar for her.
She felt like she was in Orleans again.
Slowly stepping forward, she approached a ruined building and gingerly placed a hand on a wall. It was small, with only one story. There were a few windows she could see. Was this a house? Everything had crumbled too much for her to tell. Wait, no – there was a piece of a wooden table and chairs here. And that looked like a stove over there. Everything else was too damaged or burnt for her to make heads or tails of, but that was enough in terms of signs. Turning around, she saw the corpses on the ground – riddled with arrows, burnt to cinders, or some combination thereof. They hadn’t been collected yet. The Romans had much to do nearer the gates.
This was what she had wrought back in Orleans. In the city itself, in numerous other cities, in countless villages all throughout France. She had sent wyverns to burn and raze everything to the ground. She had sent her maddened Servants out to hunt down packs of survivors and butcher them. Lashing about in her vengeance, spurred on by Gilles, she had wrought so much destruction and death. Everything she saw here was only a small sample.
The Lancer blinked. For a second, she saw the corpses rising as ghouls, ready to maul their living brethren. Then it was gone.
Joan continued walking, staring at the devastation all about her. While she wasn’t unfamiliar with such a sight, it felt as though a fog had lifted from her eyes. Back in Orleans, she would’ve reveled in it, wanting to see sights like this all throughout France as her rightful vengeance. Everyone who sat back and allowed her to die from a rigged trial would burn in Hell, just like she would.
But now… all she could feel was horror and revulsion. Through the cities she explored on this campaign, she could see small signs of life here and there despite all of them being deserted. These were homes people lived in, stores they maintained and worked at, places where children played. She had to wonder. Singularities were erased and reverted to their original timeline after they were resolved, yes, but she couldn’t help but wonder just how much they would have to rebuild. Would they be able to? Could they put their lives back together again after all the destruction she caused?
The image of Lucius’s body flashed in her mind. The man didn’t have any family anymore, yet how many still did? Fathers, husbands, brothers, sons. How many had she killed? Would they have their lives restored? What about those who remained and have lost their loved ones in her rampage? In the face of those questions, her wrath felt more and more petty and insignificant. Even if she was burned at the stake, what right did she have depriving so many people of their lives and happiness? What did it get her in the end? Was it even worth it?
The more she thought about it, the more disgusted she became – at herself, at Gilles, and at everything in Orleans. She could blame Gilles for it all, but in the end, it didn’t change that she was the one who sent out wyverns and Servants to destroy everything, relishing in the pain and suffering. No, in the end, there was no one she could blame but herself. She thought she knew that when she first offered to help Chaldea, but seeing everything here put things in perspective.
She could never atone for all those lives she took and all she had ruined. But at the very least, she had to try. As for who would judge her in the end…
Her mind flashed back to the tribunal. Ren, then that legate were kneeling on the floor, stared down at by the emperor and all the officers, awaiting judgement one way or another. She breathed out a heavy sigh. Whoever it was that judged her, one way or another, she would face it and take her fitting punishment. But there was a very, very long way to go. For now, she could work on atonement by saving humanity. And speaking of which…
Joan picked up her pace. Where the hell did that Avenger go? She could only hope they weren’t causing trouble yet again.
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The battle was over, the sun was setting, and everyone was exhausted. The soldiers were shuffling off to rest and eat if they weren’t assigned any duties. Those who were still working moved at a slower pace as fatigue set in, though even their officers didn’t have it in them to drive them to work harder. They were just as exhausted as their subordinates, and any punishments were tempered by the sheer amount of destruction and death around them. The battle and aftermath had been punishment enough.
However, for an emperor, there was no such thing as ‘rest’, especially in war. Assessing the damage to the city and troops, meeting with various officers and discussing how to proceed going forward, creating plans and contingencies, dealing with the paperwork as well as figuring everything else out… such tasks and duties were all under her purview. Perhaps she could’ve left it to the legate and her various officers, but she refused. As the Flower of Olympia, she would attend to her duties magnificently, with the perfection that was only natural of her.
That being said, as Nero sat on the couch staring at a report while the table in front of her was utterly buried in papers, even she could not wash away the exasperation from her mind. She had a headache at this point, but she honestly couldn’t tell if it was from her usual migraines or merely stress at this point. The fact her migraines had improved to the point where they could be mistaken for stress headaches was a blessing she was ever thankful for, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
As she went through the reports, she glanced over at a small pile that she had filtered and separated from the rest: Information from the captured URE officers. They had apparently been more than willing to volunteer information without any need for interrogation methods, gentle or rough. The information would be incredibly useful in days to come.
However, the contents were what disquieted her. Before the attack, a number of officers had been poisoned with belladonna by apparently one of their own. Without knowing the identity of the saboteur, they fell into infighting and paranoia. Worse still, something had happened that forced Alexander to kill his most trusted strategist and advisor Waver with his own hand. These were cruel portents and frankly, it unsettled her. And because of how everything happened, none of the captured officers wished to join them, out of either vengeance or fear. And frankly, she couldn’t blame them.
She sighed as she placed the report down, massaging her temples. It was a matter that needed addressing with Amamiya, but not tonight. Everyone was far too tired as is.
As she picked up another report, a gentle knock on the door caught her attention. Probably more reports. It seemed there was no end to work for her tonight. “Enter,” she called out.
Nero blinked with surprise as Ren entered, holding in his hand two dishes of food. “Ren,” she greeted. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you tonight. I had thought you would be recovering after all you have done today. I do hope you are getting enough rest.”
Ren smiled. “As much as I can,” he admitted. “But it’s admittedly not easy when your old place went up in flames. Besides, I had a feeling you hadn’t eaten yet, considering you’ve been running around everywhere like crazy.”
The emperor chuckled as she set down the papers. “Once more, my prerogative for my station, for good or ill,” she explained. “But please, don’t stand on ceremony – you are correct that I’ve not eaten, and perhaps some refreshment will allow me to work better.”
With her permission, Ren walked over, handing Nero’s plate over to her before sitting down on the couch himself. As he sat, he glanced over at the all the papers scattered on the table. As expected, they were all different sorts of reports. The sheer amount of text was frankly dizzying. It reminded him of his time at Shujin, particularly during exam preparation. While he had no trouble learning and memorizing the info, keeping it all straight without it overwhelming him was a challenge.
For perhaps the millionth time, he was thankful for Makoto. Her skills in keeping information organized and making it easier to study had always saved him when it came to preparing for exams, and it more than came in handy when it came to their Metaverse adventures and keeping track of the various shadows they came across.
As he took a piece of bread and bit into it, his eyes roamed and eventually settled on the pile of reports separated from the rest. His eyes narrowed as he looked a bit closer – and blinked again as he saw what they were. He glanced back at Nero, who had followed his gaze and simply shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said wearily. “It is not a matter that is incredibly urgent. We will go over this tomorrow morning but for now, it is not something either of us have the energy to deal with.”
Ren hesitated, then silently nodded. As he slowly sat back, he could only stare at the papers. Taking Jing Ke’s lessons into account, he had been listening to everyone he could. Scattered reports about poisoning and Waver’s death, combined with the officers’ paranoia. It didn’t take much to put two and two together.
He could still see the raw grief and rage on Alexander’s face when they encountered each other. While the young conqueror needed to be defeated, no one deserved what he went through. Once more, he was left wonder – what did Loki do?
“I do wonder how I will transcribe this battle,” Nero wondered out loud.
The Phantom Thief blinked in surprise at the abrupt (and definitely intentional) change in topic. “Transcribe it?” he inquired.
The emperor nodded. “The whole campaign deserves to be recorded in history,” she explained. “But not nearly as some dusty record and tome that only archivists and historians would appreciate. No – it should be an epic saga, one that resounds with the bravery and nobility of both the Roman and the United Roman Empire alike! Such a play would resound in the hearts, minds, and souls of Rome for all time!”
Ren had to consider it. Transcribing all of that into a play would be a monumental feat. Then again, he had only seen the plays his peers had put together at Shujin. Perhaps Roman plays were something different, or at least better acted. “With you as the leading role?” he asked, smiling wryly.
“But of course!” Nero declared with a bright grin. “Is there any other role that I, the emperor and Flower of Olympia, would be suited for? It is my right – nay, my duty to show my people my grandeur and beauty, so that they may remember it all the more!”
So saying, she bounced up off the sofa and struck a pose, a hand to her chest as she reached out with her other with a beatific smile. “My glory and majesty will be the cornerstone of the play as I lead the Roman forces to oust our foe! And though our foes may be Roman as well, they are honorable and will capitulate to the rightful empire! It shall be a reminder for the citizens of how, even at the brink of collapse, we remain strong and proud!”
The Phantom Thief looked over at Nero as she posed and talked about her play. Now that he could look at her fully, he could see that her dress was in worse condition than he thought: Tattered and frayed, with numerous burns and scorch marks. The once-elegant and beautiful dress had been reduced to rags from the siege. There were shadows underneath Nero’s eyes from stress and exhaustion, and though her golden hair had been tied up per usual, it was slowly unravelling, showing loose strands and knots.
And yet, despite the emperor’s disheveled state, as she stood in the orange rays of the setting sun filtering into the room, she was breathtaking to behold – her confidence and pride unshakeable, her beauty utterly radiant. In fact, though she didn’t look her greatest, that arguably added onto her beauty as she seemed unmarred by the experience. No, not unmarred. She went through all these trials and only became all the greater for it.
Nero glanced over at Ren staring at her with wonder and admiration and smiled. Prancing over, she surprised him by taking hold of his hands and bringing him up. A step later and they were both dancing, their steps light against the tiled floor as their silhouettes twisted and moved. There was no music, but they were both easily in sync nevertheless, as if though they had been dancing together their entire lives.
“Of course, I cannot take the lead role all on my own,” Nero murmured as her back was pressed up against Ren’s chest. “You and yours have been crucial in this campaign in every turn. Without you, Rome long would’ve fallen.” A twist, a pull, and they were face to face with their bodies pressed together. “You would stand alongside me, Ren Amamiya, your role as great as my own. It is no less what you deserve – and what you are.”
Ren smiled gently as he spun her around. “You honor me greatly, Nero,” he thanked her earnestly. “But my lead role is a little different from others’. After all, I’m a thief – a spotlight is only gonna cause problems for me. No, my role is only to show myself when it’s the most… fitting. No more, no less.”
Catching Nero, he dipped her down, their faces only mere inches from each other. “And it especially wouldn’t do for a thief to overshadow an emperor,” he added with a small smirk. “It’d be like an eclipse – and that’s not a portent you want for your empire. No, the stage is yours and yours alone, Nero.”
Nero frowned lightly up at Ren. “Yet there is beauty of the night in the midst of day,” she replied before smiling wearily. “But it is clear you are not dissuaded. So be it. But I will never allow your deeds to fade from my own memory. In my office as emperor, I swear.”
The Phantom Thief smiled. “That’s all I want,” he replied before lifting her up and spinning her once more, beginning their dance anew.
Still, despite their dance and ease, there was something that bothered Ren. It felt like he was being watched, yet not. It didn’t feel like someone was watching them from the outside – and to double check, he glanced over at the door and windows. He also knew Loki wasn’t nearby and it didn’t feel like it was Jing Ke checking up on them. No, this was something different entirely, something strange.
Still, something was watching them.
His instincts flared up. It was very much a long shot, but it couldn’t hurt to check. If he was wrong, then he’d just look elsewhere, perhaps even consult with Chaldea or his Servants about it. As he spun Nero once more, his eyes turned red as he activated his Third Eye. He glanced at Nero – then blinked. While she was overall glowing blue, there was a hint of a dark, red fog that was rising off her. It didn’t feel like the regular fog he saw from stronger shadows back in Tokyo – this fog felt… sentient. Malevolent.
Then it shifted and Ren started, his step faltering for half a second and almost dropping Nero before regaining his composure. The emperor thankfully hadn’t noticed as his eyes went back to normal and they kept dancing, which he was thankful for. This wasn’t something he could talk about with her, nor anyone. He had never experienced something like this in all his time in Tokyo, or even in Chaldea up until now. He would need to visit the Velvet Room. For now, all he knew were two things: There was something incredibly evil dwelling within Nero.
And it was staring right at him.