The mood had changed in a heartbeat. Whereas before there was a hopeful, watchful peace, now everyone scurried about, preparing in a near borderline panic. Soldiers ran through the streets, carrying materials or arms to wherever they were needed as officers barked orders and argued with their peers on what would be the optimal method to reinforce the city with what numbers they had. Elsewhere, supplies were quickly consolidated with new rules for rationing quickly drawn up in preparation for the inevitable siege.
Joan watched as everyone moved about in a flurry. Normally her strange appearance drew attention from soldiers – with no few staring at her either disgust or… lust? Men were still men, after all. However, as they all received their orders and went about, almost none of them gave her so much as a second glance. It was curious to watch. During her time in Orleans, most of her berserk Servants either milled about or went on a rampage. The wyverns all roosted without orders and the various monsters she summoned milled about aimlessly.
She frowned as she thought back to those days. How many peasants, knights, and nobles did the same thing? How many prepared with everything they had, sparing no resources and using every extent of their knowledge and manpower, only to be swarmed aside in a cruel tide of flame and steel - a calamity that she had been the cause of? How often had she laughed in manic satisfaction that the people were rendered less than nothing because of her?
How easy would it have been to sweep aside this city despite all they were doing to prepare?
The Lancer sighed bitterly. She still had much to atone for. Not in His eyes, nor Chaldea’s, or her Master’s, but her own.
“Shit – watch out! WATCH OUT!”
The panicked shouts quickly caught Joan’s attention as she saw a nearby cart filled with barrels about to tip over thanks to a broken wheel. Moving quickly, she caught the bottom of the cart and hoisted it up, keeping it even. The barrels within wobbled dangerously for a second before settling. The various soldiers around her sighed in relief.
“Th-thank you, miss,” stammered one particular soldier. Joan glanced at him – and blinked. The soldier was little more than a boy. Why was someone that young a soldier? He should be back home, helping with his family and roughhousing with other boys in some village square.
Then her stomach dropped as the answer immediately popped up in her mind: Because there was nobody else.
“Don’t worry about it,” she grunted as she adjusted her grip to keep the cart steady. Despite it being fully laden, it wasn’t a problem for her to hold up whatsoever thanks to her strength as a Servant. She nodded to the broken wheel. “Get the damn thing replaced – I’m not holding this forever,” she growled. The soldier blinked, then nodded and immediately dashed off.
Meanwhile, the other soldiers immediately moved in and began carefully unloading the barrels off the cart, making sure not to disturb it too much. Joan watched them work impassively. Three soldiers total of varying ages. Two of them were of the proper ages to be soldiers but the third one was much older – she could practically see the white hairs in the man’s beard and the wrinkles on his face.
“Our thanks,” panted the older one as he unloaded another barrel. “It’d be a huge mess if we spilled all this pitch.” As he spoke, the two other soldiers gently set the barrels on the side and began rolling them off while avoiding any eye contact with her, leaving the two of them with three more barrels standing around.
Joan watched them leave. “More preparations?” she asked.
The older soldier nodded. “Aye,” he confirmed as he patted a barrel next to him. “Set these on the walls and dump them on anyone trying to climb the walls after lighting them. Burns nicely and impossible to come off. Unpleasant, I’ll grant you, but eh – I don’t feel quite as bad dumping it on those… things.”
Right. The United Roman Empire soldiers were mostly facsimiles, guided and led by human officers. The logistics problem was even worse than what she had described back at Rome. The wyverns and monsters she summoned back in France gorged themselves on the French people. Did they even need to eat, or did they simply accept her orders to ravage the countryside?
Whoever said ‘ignorance is bliss’ was all too correct – and frankly, she wanted to punch them in the face.
Regardless, one thing caught her attention. “You’ve done this before,” Joan noted. She didn’t bother phrasing it as a question – the man was far too certain of its effects. And unlike the other two who practically scurried off with the barrels, the soldier didn’t seem to mind her presence. Everything about him indicated experience matching his age.
The old soldier nodded. “Yep,” he confirmed easily. “Been in the army for some time. Saw my share of fighting – barbarian incursions to the north, insurrections here and there. Most of it is just marching and training though. I thought I’d be able to retire and just tend to my farm for the rest of my days, but I guess life’s not so convenient like that, eh?” He chuckled at the end like it was a small joke.
Joan couldn’t find it in herself to laugh; it wasn’t that funny in the first place, and it simply brought more sobering thoughts to the forefront. “You’re a farmer too?” she asked quietly.
“Small place near the capital,” he replied. “Nothing fancy but close enough to cart over to the city and sell to merchants. I get decent prices – which is nice as taxes have been murder. The emperor’s lowered them for folks like me but it’s still tough. Still, we got by well enough.”
“’We?’” Joan echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You have family?”
“Some,” the old soldier confirmed. “My love passed away a few summers ago. Mors came for her in her sleep – as blessed as one can be.” The name sounded familiar to the Lancer. Racking her brain, she soon remembered from her studies: Mors was the Roman God of Death. More commonly known was his Greek name, Thanatos. “My sons often helped me with the farm. They complained at times, but well, you know how boys can be.”
Joan nodded hesitantly, not sure how to respond. “They sound like good boys,” she replied diplomatically. That was the most she could really say. She didn’t know people or how to deal with them – only to burn and kill them. She knew they sinned thanks to Gilles’s wishes, but not how they lived. Families, traditions, how they met, talked, lived… she knew none of that.
Once more she cursed. She cursed Gilles for her incomplete, facetious existence. She cursed her original who knew all this and thus was able to properly choose the path she walked, for better or worse. And of course, she cursed Ren for screwing with her mind to the point where she couldn’t properly tell up from down anymore.
And most of all, she cursed herself for her ignorance and lashing out like some damned idiot. There was far too much she didn’t know, and not nearly enough time to learn properly.
“Yeah,” the soldier replied quietly, a small sad smile on his lips. “They were.”
Joan blinked in surprise at the response. Before she could inquire further, the two soldiers from earlier ran up, huffing as they did so. The boy from earlier came with them, hauling a wooden wheel with a box of tools. “Took you lot long enough!” the older soldier barked. “Come on, help me with these barrels after you catch your breaths.” The soldiers nodded wearily, heaving breaths as they staggered over to the remaining containers of pitch. Meanwhile, the wheel was set on the cart and quickly put in place, allowing Joan to finally release it.
The older soldier grunted as he tipped over the barrel and gently laid it on its side. “It’s good talking to ya,” the soldier remarked cheerfully. “Name’s Lucius, by the way. Don’t think I caught your name.”
“It’s Joan,” the Lancer replied. Come to think of it, she was always introduced as Joan by someone else or otherwise wasn’t asked for her name at all. The name still felt odd in her mouth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucius.”
Lucius grinned. “Pleasure’s mine,” he replied. “Time to get back to work. I’ll see you when I see you!” With that, the soldiers rolled off the barrels, followed shortly by the boy pulling the cart away. Soon, it was just Joan by herself in the street, the shouts of officers and soldiers echoing in the distance.
The pale moon shone dispassionately on them all in the dark heavens above.
-----------
Humanity.
They were weak, foolish creatures. They did not know their own best interests. They quarreled and shed blood, they suffered and hungered. They prayed for salvation in vain and died in droves regardless. Time and time again, they repeated their mistakes and never learned. They considered themselves more advanced, yet they were just as barbaric as when they wielded clubs and stones against each other.
That was what Orobas found in his observations as they kept watch. What they saw always disgusted and confused them. Every path had a logical course these humans could take, one that would be far more optimal than whatever they had done. Yet they always choose the harder path for reasons they couldn’t comprehend. But it was their duty to observe and record data, and so they would continue their duties regardless.
Monitoring Chaldea had been one of his tasks as well. It became a trivial affair after implanting a connection to the incarnated Lancer. Whatever she saw, they saw. Whatever she heard, they heard. She was beneath suspicion and thus, the perfect method of monitoring the one unplanned variable in their plans. So far, there had been no issues.
At least, none towards their ultimate goal.
The thoughts of the Lancer Servant confused them. She had been naught but a construct, yet why did she find fault in herself for what she had done? Why did she feel empathy for these humans despite destroying countless numbers of them? It was clear that her current mental paradigm was not suited for her mission nor her satisfaction, yet she had no wish to return to how she was before when she was content and had a goal.
Foolish and illogical to the extreme.
All of Chaldea’s actions were the epitome of those two aspects from what they observed. Servants were treated as one of their own instead of tools that could be easily replaced if they were unruly or unsuited. The male Master preferred to constantly waste energy and resources creating superfluous sustenance as opposed to utilizing rations to conserve both.
And no matter what, be it Chaldea or humanity, they continued to fight and persist despite the best course of action being to surrender or join the more powerful side. They would continue to live longer or at least face a far less painful end than if they continued to struggle when there was no chance of victory.
Illogical. Illogical. Illogical. Illogical. All of it was illogical.
Nevertheless, it was their duty to observe. No less. And in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Humanity would meet their fate one way or another. They would be their shepherds and will ultimately find peace – be it in life or death.
And they would observe all of it.
----------
“It seems you have been beset by yet another trial.”
Ren chuckled at Igor’s words, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, starting to feel like that’s describing my entire life,” he joked. First it was his adventures in Tokyo which began with him getting falsely arrested, then he came to Chaldea where he encountered countless legends who both fought with and against him. Frankly, if he hadn’t gained so many friends and allies, he was certain it was all a dream – or a nightmare.
Despite his perpetual smile, Igor nodded sympathetically. “A wild card’s journey is indeed filled with challenges,” he noted. “Though I will fully admit few have been as thoroughly tested as you are. However, thus far you have been succeeding beyond all expectations. It is quite commendable. I take it you wish to prepare?”
The Phantom Thief nodded. “Better get everything prepped before we go,” he confirmed. “Got a lot to do.”
Lavenza smiled. With a wave of her hand, one of the cell doors opened once more. “Olga is currently in the Workshop,” she informed him. “She has anticipated your needs and is already awaiting you.” Ren blinked. The Workshop? That’s what they’re calling it now?
Right, Da Vinci had mentioned that a mage’s home base was called their workshop. It often functioned as where they did their research and experiments, as well as their fortress to guard all their magecraft and information. To be invited into one required no small amount of trust as all their research, projects, and experiments would be on display.
After learning that, the debriefing took on a whole new dimension for both Ren and Morgana. As proud as Da Vinci was, even she would be reluctant to open the doors of her workshop. Yet she had willingly allowed them in, both to defend against eavesdroppers and spies, and as a show of mutual trust – her secrets for their own.
Still, a magus workshop in the Velvet Room? That was certainly a new thing. Yet neither Igor nor Lavenza had shown even the slightest discomfort at the idea, so he decided to trust both them and Olga. As temperamental as the former director was, she had a good heart and was incredibly capable.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Stepping into the cell, there was a period of darkness before he was in the Workshop once more. He quickly noticed a few changes: there were now bookshelves filled with various tomes, scrolls, bundles of bamboo slips, and more. It didn’t detract from the sheer number that were open at the astrolabe table, but it was clear Olga had been utilizing more resources. A plush rug had also been set up at another section of the room, complete with cushions. Ren could easily guess what they were for.
As for Olga herself, the Attendant-in-training was consulting the Compendium at her table. She must have gotten her own copy so she could work with it alongside Lavenza. “Hard at work?” Ren called out, walking towards her.
Olga blinked as Ren stepped forward, then sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “As stated before, Amamiya, it’s all I can really do,” she replied. “I take it you have some personas you wish enhanced for the upcoming battle?”
Ren nodded. “Got a few, yep,” he confirmed. “Cerberus and the Fates worked wonders, so going to need a few more.”
With that, they discussed the new personas that would be needed for the battle. Between the Fates and Cerberus, he already had a rather versatile arsenal to work with. However, there were two he needed. The first was Hecatoncheires – his physical might was considerable for many different purposes – and the second he didn’t even remember until Morgana reported what happened on his leg of his campaign. However, now seemed a good a time as any to use it.
Once he was done deciding, he watched as Olga got to work. The astrolabe spun around with each wave and motion of her hand, the starry skies above whirling by in a dizzying display. However, her gaze seemed a bit less focused than usual as the Compendium glowed. It was subtle enough and she didn’t seem overly distracted, but….
“Something on your mind, Olga?” he asked.
The former director’s head snapped up, blinking at Ren before gently rubbing her eyes with her fingers. “I was trying to concentrate on my work, Amamiya,” she grumbled, glaring at Ren - albeit with barely any heat.
Ren raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s just from your work,” he pushed a bit as he leaned on the astrolabe table. “Want to talk about it, or…”
Olga continued to glare at Ren for a moment, then sighed. “Go lie down,” she growled.
The Phantom Thief blinked, then nodded. Walking over to the rug, he easily laid down on the rug, setting a pillow underneath his head to cushion it. The plush carpet was incredibly soft, with the stone floor underneath providing just enough hardness for it to be surprisingly comfortable, easily conforming to his body. In his peripheral vision, he saw Olga coming over and lying down as well.
And thus, both of them laid there in the room, staring up at the glimmering stars and planets above them in silence.
“I saw what happened with Nero,” Olga murmured.
Ren blinked in surprise as he glanced over at Olga. Instead of embarrassment or anger, she looked oddly pensive. Turning back, he stared back up at the stars. “Yeah, that was… certainly an experience,” Ren commented lamely. What was he supposed to say about that? He certainly hadn’t expected Nero to proposition him in such a manner. However, it wasn’t from a healthy place of mind – there was absolutely no way he could accept it.
“I can understand a bit of what she’s going through,” she continued, her eyes tracing a shooting star. “My tenure as the director of Chaldea had been… difficult, to put it mildly. Many of my subordinates and peers distrusted me, I had very little knowledge of how to properly run the facility, I was incompatible as a Master despite being the director of a location that requires them…”
She sighed as she reached up to the stars with a hand. “I had thought myself prepared as best I could under the circumstances,” she continued. “But it wasn’t enough. No matter how hard I worked, what I studied and learned, what resources I brought to bear, it was never enough. The entire facility felt like it was slipping from my hands like grains of sand. At the very least, I thought I could rely on Lev. He helped smooth out a lot of the workings in the facility and taught me so much, both before and after I took the position.”
A bitter chuckle escaped from Olga as her hand fell to cover her eyes. “I don’t believe I need to elaborate on that front, Amamiya,” she noted.
Ren was quiet as he digested the information. “How did you become the director of Chaldea in the first place?” he asked, glancing over at her. “Did you have to take some sort of test, or…?”
Olga shook her head, still staring up at the sky. “It was… passed down to me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “My father, Marisbury Animusphere, was the director. But… they found him dead in his office. There wasn’t anyone else who could fill in on such short notice, s-so I had to fill in. My father’s – no, my family’s entire legacy fell on my shoulders. I couldn’t refuse. I did everything – everything – I could, and yet…”
She took a quiet gasp to regain her breath as tears started quietly leaking, forcing her to rapidly rub them away, hoping Ren wouldn’t notice. As for the Phantom Thief, he could only feel an entire maelstrom of emotions – shock at learning her father died. Pity for Olga’s situation. Sympathy for all she had to go through. But most of all, concern for the former director. She bore the weight of the world for god knows how long. No wonder she seemed at the end of her rope when they first met.
Reaching over, he quietly took her hand, drawing Olga’s surprised glance. “You did everything you could, and even more,” he reassured her. “If it wasn’t for you, neither Morgana nor I would’ve gotten nearly so far in the singularities. We owe a lot to you and everything you’ve done. I don’t doubt your father would be proud of all you’ve done – before, now, and in the future.”
The former director blinked in surprise, then gave a half-hearted scoff. “You know nothing, Ren Amamiya,” she grumbled. Nevertheless, her fingers closed around his hand, sharing in his warmth. With that, they continued to lay there quietly, the stars twinkling above them, caring nothing about the affairs of the two people below.
Finally, with a tired sigh, Olga stood up. “I can’t be coddled forever,” she muttered. “I shall return to work.” Ren glanced up with concern but decided to simply nod. Pushing forward and doing what she could was probably the best way for her to recover. He’d have to check in on her later and see how she was doing, as well as talk to both Igor and Lavenza.
She took a few steps toward the table, then stopped. “Amamiya,” Olga called out. “Might I ask you for a favor?”
That drew Ren’s curiosity as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Sure,” he immediately agreed. “What’s up?”
The Attendant hesitated for a moment. “When you see Mash again,” she said slowly. “Tell her I’m…. I’m sorry. For everything.”
Ren blinked in surprise. “Er, sure,” he stammered as he sat up. He debated asking what for as Olga stiffly nodded and returned to the astrolabe table to resume her work, then thought better of it. While he was curious, he doubted Olga would relinquish the information easily. She would probably reveal it when it was necessary, but no sooner. That being said, he couldn’t help but stare at Olga as she worked. How many secrets did she ultimately hold?
How many did Chaldea?
----------
“So, I’m guessing the ETA is a bit out there?”
Ren watched the faces of Roman, Ritsu, and Morgana through his communicator. All of them were pale at the news of the incoming siege. “Er, h-how many did you say were gonna be attacking again?” Roman stammered.
“The last scout reports counted around twenty thousand,” Ren replied, recalling the information from the morning meeting. “From the pace they’re marching, they’ll probably be arriving tomorrow afternoon or so. We’re still getting everything prepped. Hopefully it’ll be enough.”
“Tomorrow?!” Morgana screeched. “I’m gonna talk to Evander right now! We gotta get over there! At least close enough for our Servants to provide backup!”
“Even then, it’ll take several days for either of us to be in range,” Ritsu growled in frustration. “Roman, is there anything you can do on your end?”
Roman bit his lip. “I’m already checking,” he replied anxiously. “But even if you had Mash with you, Ren, Chaldea doesn’t have the power output for any more Servants. The best I can do is give a more bird’s eye view of the situation and go from there. I’m really sorry.”
The Phantom Thief smiled and shrugged, trying to push down his own worry and panic. “Well, it’ll just be like the battle at the pass again,” he commented. “Just… a lot bigger. At least we’ve more soldiers with us this time around. Could’ve done with Archer or Tamamo with us too but we’ll make it work. We’re funneling as many supplies as we can before the siege happens and also taking precautions so they don’t fully surround us.”
He glanced over and nodded at Morgana. “So far, there’s no accompanying navy with the URE army,” he added. “So you’re probably gonna have the easiest way in.”
Morgana nodded with a determined expression. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he stated. “Leave it to me, Joker. Once I get over there, I’ll be sure to give them hell.”
“Morgana, do the ships have any sort of defenses or weapons?” Ritsu asked, her voice surprisingly serious.
The catlike being blinked in surprise. “Erm, we’ve scorpions mounted on the ships,” he replied. “I think the engineers are trying to install some catapults too.”
“Think you can provide cover fire from those ships?” Ritsu asked.
“Oh, I getcha,” Morgana replied in realization. “Already thinking about that, actually. We’re gonna have to draw pretty close before we can properly use them, but once we do, we’re raining down hell.”
Ren nodded with a grin. “Good to hear,” he replied earnestly. “I’ll keep you all updated as it comes, but for now, I guess it’s just a waiting game. You guys stay safe and I’ll see you all soon, alright?”
“We should be telling you that!” Morgana cried. “Don’t you dare do something like what you did with Leonidas and all those soldiers back in the pass, alright?! We need you safe and sound!”
“I’ll suplex you again if you do something stupid!” Ritsu snarled in turn. “Roman, you’ll monitor him closely, won’t you?!”
“Of course,” Roman replied, already looking more tired at the sheer thought of it. “Ren, please don’t push yourself too hard once more. That moment had been touch-and-go and frankly, we’d rather not risk that.”
Ren made a show of thinking, then smirked. “I’ll take it under advisement,” he responded cheekily.
“REN!!!”
“I should go attend to the other preparations,” Ren said, giving his fuming friends a grin. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
With that, he turned off the communicator and took a deep breath. Twenty thousand soldiers. Even with his greatest personas, such a force was beyond his reckoning. He would have to rely on everyone here. And he certainly agreed with the three – he hoped himself he wouldn’t have to rush out again to deal with some split contingent. Fighting off two hundred soldiers by himself wasn’t an experience he wished to replicate.
Deciding to put his plan into action, he got up and walked down the streets towards the western wall – where the URE army was going to show. Keeping Jing Ke’s advice in mind, he expanded his awareness to catch snatches of details, both in people and in conversations, as he walked by. Soldiers ran up and down, sometimes with various supplies in hand. Impromptu pulleys were constructed to haul materials up to the battlements as soldiers and officers barked orders to organize everything.
“Coming through, centurion!”
Ren blinked and jumped out of the way as a cart, pulled by a pair of other soldiers, rolled by. The mood of the soldiers as he walked by seemed to be mixed, judging from their conversations. For the most part, they seemed to focus on keeping busy with their preparations so they didn’t have to think about it. The gate was wide open as more soldiers streamed in and out.
As he walked, however, something caught his attention. Glancing over, he saw a pair of soldiers talking down an alley. A small scroll was passed to another, then they quickly parted. “Loki,” Ren mentally called out.
“The two fools who were about as subtle as I am on a bad day?” the Avenger snarked lazily.
As Ren expected - while he didn’t know where the trickster god was at all times, he knew that they were never far away. “Can you tail them and see what’s going on?” he asked. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but better safe than sorry.”
“When it comes to Romans, that’s perhaps a better attitude to have than in Tokyo,” Loki replied with some amusement. “Though you probably wouldn’t learn that after bedding a Roman emperor~”
Ren sighed in exasperation. “That’s not what happened, Loki,” he wearily replied. And frankly, he’d rather not hear about such a thing from someone who looked like Akechi as a girl. He had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the only time he would have to tell them to knock it off. “Anyway, can you follow them and see what’s going on? Don’t act without concrete evidence though – we can’t afford any discord with his upcoming siege.”
“Of course, of course,” Loki replied dismissively. Ren could only sigh to himself. Well, as long as they took things seriously there shouldn’t be much to worry about. Probably.
Stepping out of the open gate, he looked around. The soldiers were busy digging a trench around the walls. Digging completely around the city was impossible with the amount of manpower and time they had, and so it was primarily focused on the western wall. That being said, even that was hard going for the soldiers – there simply wasn’t enough manpower, time, or even tools to do so.
Walking over to one end of the trench – a short walk, considering the small amount of progress – he approached one of the officers. “How’s it going?” he asked.
The officer startled at Ren’s question and stared at him as if biting back a string of insults and curses, then sighed. Ren had a feeling the man didn’t want to yell at someone who obviously was high in the emperor’s favor – a feeling he very much didn’t enjoy. “You can see for yourself, centurion,” he growled. “A trench that covers Masilia’s western walls before tomorrow afternoon? If we had a full legion, we’d be able to do it for sure but right now? The best we can hope for is some holes.”
“I can see that,” Ren commented, watching the soldiers digging with shovels and picks. “Mind if I help out?”
Blinking, the man looked over at Ren. “What, got another weird trick of yours?” he asked incredulously.
Ren grinned. “Can you get your men to clear the way? Also, tell them not to be too terrified of what they see.”
The officer could only stare at Ren, then once more sighed. “You foreigners will be the death of me, I swear,” he grumbled in exasperation before turning back to his men. “Oi! Pack it up and move!” he roared. “We got incoming! And first person who bolts off gets triple shifts!” The soldiers looked at each other in confusion before climbing out of the trench.
Once they were all clear, Ren jumped in, to everyone’s confusion as they all watched. Ren took a deep breath and switched to the needed persona. It’s going to cause a disturbance no matter what, but hopefully it would pay off.
“Hecatoncheires!”
In a burst of blue flame, the multi-armed giant appeared once more. Unlike before, instead of kneeling, it stood up to its full height. Despite the depth of the trench, it easily towered over everyone standing outside as the soldiers immediately cried out in shock and terror, staggering backward. “Oi! No running, you cowardly louts!” the officer roared – albeit an octave higher than before.
Ren breathed as he witnessed his persona. The difference from yesterday and today felt like night and day – his personas were part of him, but compared to yesterday, Hecatoncheires felt like a second skin, much like Cerberus was back in the pass. Not to mention, his movements felt a lot more… organic and natural. He had to restrain the giant from roaring, though – he didn’t need to spook the soldiers any further.
He turned toward the uncompleted trench wall and smirked. “Let’s get to work, Hecatoncheires!” he called out.
The giant roared in agreement and elation – much to the panic of the surrounding soldiers, causing Ren to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. He’d have to apologize afterward. But for now, it was time to get to work. Hecatoncheires easily burrowed into the dirt, scooping up massive quantities and setting it down with surprising dexterity and gentleness.
The soldiers could only gawk in surprise, watching the giant work under Ren’s control. Then the officer snapped out of it. “Oi, you gonna let him do everything around here?!” he roared, snapping the soldiers out of their reverie. “Get that dirt piled up nice and high! I don’t want to see a single damn abomination being able to clamber out for their lives by the time we’re done here!”
Ren glanced up in surprise at the officer, who looked back, shot him a quick grin, then resumed his work. He could only chuckle as he felt his circuits heat up. He should get back to it too. As the sun set, the trench was done, with the dirt piled up on the far side to make it even harder to climb.
As Hecatoncheires faded away, Ren panted for breath, feeling his circuits burning underneath his skin. While it was straining to maintain, it was far easier than even just the other day when he briefly used the persona to open the gates. He was glad for Olga’s work – it certainly made things far easier. Admittedly he hadn’t used him for any of his physical attacks yet, but that would come in due time.
Then he staggered as he felt something slap his back. Catching himself, he whirled around to see the officer, grinning broadly. “You got some weird tricks, centurion,” he boomed. “But anyone who can pull that off AND pull their weight is alright in my book!”
The Phantom Thief blinked, then chuckled. “All in a day’s work,” he replied easily, if wearily.
Laughing, the officer clapped Ren on the back, once more causing him to stumble. “Come on, kid,” he roared. “Chow time!” The soldiers roared as they began filing off, heading back into the city. Ren sighed and shook his head, carefully climbing the ladder out of the trench and ignoring his stinging limbs.
And thus, the sun set – and the clouds began rolling in.