The Alter had seen many things since she came back to exact vengeance. She had seen the Holy Grail provide Servants to enact her will, create wyverns to devastate her former country. She had watched her Gilles de Rais call forth monstrosities from his spellbook, filled with black magic. Under her purview, she had serial killers, executioners, spies, disgraced knights, even a saint, under her beck and call. They all reflected her anger, her hatred, and her flames, as they torched and slaughtered all they come across.

Yet the ones who stood in front of her defied her expectations at every turn. The boy Master in particular. He commanded a small corps of Servants that by all rights should’ve been overwhelmed and defeated, yet slowly and steadily have been making headway against her. The power of both demons and angels were at his command, constantly taunting her as their sheer presence consistently drew everyone’s attention, which he exploited mercilessly each time.

And now, here they were, emanating a power that she had not felt before, yet it sent chills down her spine. But no, that couldn’t be possible. These two were just regular mortals. There was no way in hell they could ever stand up to Servants. She may have been a bit worse for wear thanks to that damn Archer, but even running on fumes she could easily kill two mortals without any issue whatsoever. The flames of hatred burned within her chest as she stood up, eyes full of murder and bloodlust.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to get in here, nor do I know what’s with the wardrobe change,” she spat. “And I don’t care. You’ve got some goddamn nerve facing a Servant.” She drew her sword – La Pucelle – and pointed at the two. The Saber was busy with Fafnir and her weaker self as well as the shield girl were back with Archer. The only ones facing her were the Masters. “No one’s coming to save you. If you beg for mercy, I’ll at least make it quick – though like hell I’ll make it painless.”

The catlike being smirked. “Sorry, ya cheap knock-off. We’re not the type to beg for stuff. We steal!” Her eyes blazed at the insult but before she could retort, the being charged forward, wielding a cutlass. It was definitely far faster than just a regular mortal. She barely raised her sword just in time, expecting minimal impact. After all, no mortal could ever match even the weakest Servant in terms of strength…

That thought lasted for only a second before nearly getting her sword smacked out of her hand. Eyes widening in surprise, she jumped back to gain distance, narrowly dodging a follow-up slash. Skidding to a halt, she could only stare in shock at the catlike being, who gave a cocky grin. That strength and speed… no mortal being could move like that or hit that hard! Perhaps a Dead Apostle, but these two didn’t qualify in the slightest and they retained their intelligence.

Whatever they were, their abilities were a match for a Servant’s!

“Heh, you’re not as strong as I thought,” Morgana commented. He could feel the ever-familiar thrum of his Metaverse power here. He wouldn’t need to hold back for fear of destroying himself with his magic circuits. “Come forth, my other self!” he called out, glowing.

“Diego!”

With a flash of blue flame, Morgana’s Persona appeared once more. It resembled Zorro, but with a good number of key differences: As opposed to the black suit Zorro wore, Diego had on a button up shirt, adorned with a blue rose in the breast pocket, with jeans and loafers. The sleeves were rolled up showing tattoos on his blue skin, with the top buttons undone to reveal a muscular chest. A jacket was wrapped around his shoulders, flowing behind him like a cape. While still masked, Diego’s head was uncovered, leaving his long blue hair, tied in a ponytail, free. The Persona didn’t have Zorro’s ever-present grin, but nevertheless had a smooth smile that radiated confidence.

But the change in Personas wasn’t merely in appearances. The Alter could feel it. Whatever power this cat had before, it utterly paled in comparison to what she felt now.

Instead of attacking, however, Morgana turned to Archer while Joker darted forward at the doppelganger, knife in hand. Diego traced a pattern in the air, and suddenly Archer was lit up with a green light as a cool spring breeze blew around him. His injuries rapidly healed and closed themselves up, letting him stand easily once more. The normally snarky Servant could only look on in shock as Morgana grinned. “You’re welcome!” he called out cheekily before facing the doppelganger once more.

Meanwhile, the doppelganger gritted her teeth as she barely managed to block or parry each knife blow from the Master. If Morgana was fast, this Master was on another level entirely. His attacks and moves had a lot of unnecessary flash to them, but somehow they seemed to flow easily into one another. It didn’t matter what she did – if she tried to counterattack and pressure him, he would slip into her flanks and retaliate. If she tried to back off, his knife turned into a gun and fired with frightening accuracy. Despite her armor, the bullets pierced through and hit their marks in her leg and stomach, making each movement increasingly painful.

With a wild cry, she slashed at the Master, but again, he simply backflipped away and dodged it without an issue. What the hell was this guy? An Assassin class Servant in disguise or something? That damn smirk he had really grated on her nerves at this point. And those damn eyes. He wasn’t regarding her seriously or even as an opponent. They were sharp, calculating, and cunning despite everything. It wasn’t that he was taking her as a joke.

He saw her as nothing but prey.

Joker couldn’t help but feel beyond elated. He had almost forgotten how it felt to be a Phantom Thief, with everything that had been happening lately. His body felt lighter and stronger. The sensation of his long coat, his gloves, and especially his mask felt like old companions. Like this, he felt like he could take on the world – and he had, multiple times, and multiple gods too. With all that in mind, how could he not grin? Plus, he felt that ever-familiar power that came from being a Wild Card. He didn’t need to use his magic circuits here. He could truly cut loose. His hand went to his face. His mask burned off, revealing glowing yellow eyes and a borderline malevolent grin.

“Satan!”

The blue monstrosity once more appeared in a flash of flame. The doppelganger’s eyes widened as she beheld the creature again. She could feel its power, and there was no doubt: it was like staring into the condemning eyes of the Devil himself, about to cast her down into the deepest pits of Hell. For all her boasting and blaspheming, she couldn’t suppress the shivers down her spine. This wasn’t like before, where it only appeared quickly and was gone in a flash. No, this time she would be judged and cast down without mercy.

So distracted she was that she failed to notice the ice pillars that burst out of the ground. With a cry she leaped away but far too late – her arms were caught in the ice, as well as one of her legs. She was trapped. She could only look up fearfully at the Master – no, the decider of her fate. The Devil faded away, but the impression remained. And currently, she felt far more frightened of the utter monster still smirking at her.

“Sorry,” he called out sardonically. “Wish we had more time to play around, but I need to finish things off here.” His hand once more went to his face as he called forth a very particular persona this time.

“Cu Chulain!”

With a burst of blue flame came forth the armored warrior. The doppelganger’s mouth dropped. It didn’t have the presence of either that angel or the Devil, but this being’s presence felt far more intimately familiar. It also felt far more solid as well, unlike the more ethereal presences of the beings the Master had summoned earlier. And the feeling she had from the blood-red spear the warrior wielded only cemented it.

Angels, demons, and now this Master could create Servants?! What kind of abomination was he?!

Joker smirked, knowledge of his persona’s capabilities quickly filling his mind. While he could’ve finished things off with Satan, he wanted to pull out Cu Chulainn to test how taxing he was in the Metaverse. To his surprise and delight, he was only a bit harder to maintain than his other personas here. It was certainly far less tiring than when he tried to summon him in the real world while using his magic circuits. It seemed in the Metaverse, he was indeed far stronger than just a regular person. And there was one particular move he hadn’t seen for his persona before, though he instinctively knew what it did. Another test was in order.

The persona crouched low, its red spear radiating cursed energy, filling the air with power. On its normally stoic expression was a feral grin – one that anyone with a passing familiarity with the Servant would recognize. The doppelganger’s eyes widened as she struggled harder to break free from the ice. It cracked, giving her purchase, but not nearly fast enough. The power from that spear was unmistakable. It was a damned Noble Phantasm, and it was coming straight for her!

“GAE-!”

Before he could finish declaring the attack, there was a bright flash of light all around them. When it faded away, the barren land filled with swords was gone. They were back in the city of Lyon, with the rain pouring down on them once more. Ren blinked in surprise and looked at himself. His Phantom Thief attire had vanished as well. His body felt more normal: Heavier, stiffer. His capabilities were that of a normal human again. Then his eyes darted back up at the doppelganger.

The doppelganger, no longer trapped in ice, held a hand to her chest, heaving ragged breaths. Though the Noble Phantasm didn’t go off, she almost felt it: the cursed spear moving in a crooked red flash. It wouldn’t matter what she did – it striking her and gouging out her heart was merely a fact that the spear fulfilled. A split second more and that would’ve come to pass. She glared at the Master, her eyes filled with utter, murderous rage. “You goddamn abomination,” she spat out. Her prana began flaring up as she dredged what remained of her reserves. This brat would burn.

Suddenly, an arrow flew past Ren towards the doppelganger. She swatted it barely swatted it away – giving enough time for Jeanne and Mash to close the distance and put themselves between Ren and her. She glared at the red-mantled Archer who held his bow before turning her glare to the three in front of her. In the distance, she could hear sounds of destruction as Fafnir and the Saber continued to fight. She calculated her odds. Most of her Servants have been routed. The two in the castle most likely wouldn’t come to her aid. The Archer was out of prana but her weaker self and the shielder were ready to fight. The abomination of a Master looked unsteady on his feet but his grey eyes kept unerring focus. The catlike being Master was here too.

“Tch. This isn’t over,” she growled. “I’ll hunt down every last one of you. Especially you.” She pointed at Ren. Her threat delivered, she dissolved into golden particles as she vanished into spiritual form.

Before Jeanne or Mash could move to pursue her, Ren collapsed on his knee, Morgana also falling back on his rear. “Senpai!” Mash cried out, rushing over to his side. Jeanne in turn ran over to Morgana. “Are you hurt? What happened, senpai?” she asked concernedly, checking him over for wounds. In the distance, Fafnir roared before giving a mighty flap of its wings, lifting into the air and taking off. It was marked with wounds everywhere, some rather severe, and with the doppelganger leaving, it was cutting its losses.

Ren chuckled weakly. “It’s nothing, Mash,” he reassured her. “Just… kinda forgot how doing that takes a lot out of you.” The fatigue was deep in his bones and muscles. It was normal – entering and moving about in the Metaverse was taxing on one’s body. Every time his friends and him exited a Palace or Mementos, it felt like they had run a marathon. What he wouldn’t give for a massage from Rider right now. Taking a deep breath, he stood back up before looking back. “Archer, are you alright?”

Archer glanced over at him with an inscrutable expression and nodded. “I’m fine, thanks to you, Master,” he replied evenly. “Apologies for not keeping my Noble Phantasm up – unfortunately, I’ve run out of prana. Fighting off wyverns, a Jeanne d’Arc doppelganger, and the legendary dragon Fafnir is a challenging task even for a legendary Servant let alone a mediocre one such as me.” It was an automatic response. His mind was too busy figuring things out. Reality Marbles couldn’t be breached from the outside. They could be destroyed, perhaps, but no Servant here had an anti-world Noble Phantasm.

So how did they get in? He had watched both of his Masters fight with the acuity and capability of lower ranked Servants. And that magecraft – if he could even call it that at this point – became supremely more powerful, with Morgana restoring him to full health while Ren bore down on the doppelganger with Satan once again, then summoned the armored spearman who Archer could somehow easily mistake for Cu Chulainn despite looking nothing alike aside from the spear. And the burst of prana… whatever Ren had summoned, it could use a Noble Phantasm, and he could summon such a familiar so easily.

Just what in the hell were his Masters? And why were both him and Morgana giving him strange looks?

Before anyone could say anything more, Ren’s communicator beeped once more. Looking in surprise, Ren tapped it as a hologram of Roman sprang up. “There you are!” he exclaimed, eyes wide and hair frazzled in clear panic. “What the hell happened over there?! We lost your signal entirely for a bit and only regained it after Archer’s Noble Phantasm vanished! Did… did you go inside a reality marble?! That-that shouldn’t be possible! Ren, what the hell did you do? What’s going on?!”

Ren opened his mouth when a sudden explosion burst from the castle, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry, Roman, I’ll explain later,” he hurriedly answered. Before the doctor could say anything else, he shut off the communication. A story like that wasn’t something he could explain in such a short time period. That being said, their secret was out and Ren knew there would be a reckoning. He wondered just how much of his secrets he could keep in the end. But then, if they were all dead, then that wouldn’t matter as much, would it?

Morgana quickly got back up as Jeanne and Mash nodded. Whatever questions everyone had would be put aside for now. They had other allies that possibly needed backup. All of them raced to the castle. Saber burst from an alleyway to join them, also giving them a quick nod of affirmation as she ran alongside them. Ren would normally send the others ahead of him to back them up, but given the sheer hatred of the doppelganger at this point, it was better not to take any chances.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

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Mash had both seen a lot and very little in her life. Her entire life had been defined by Chaldea. She was born raised, studied, and trained here. It was one of the most advanced centers on Earth, with breathtaking archives of knowledge that encompassed fields from history to biology to technology to economics. There was also no small amount of different forms of entertainment as well for the benefit of the staff, something Roman had went out of his way to show her even though it was strictly against protocol. In a sense, she had been lucky and had a wide breadth of knowledge to work with.

However, ever since the Grand Order began, everything she knew had been turned upside down. She knew well of magic and magecraft so Servants weren’t anything new to her – after all, she herself was a demi-Servant after countless designer babies failed to become one. Going to different points in time to save humanity was much greater but still within her scope of comprehension. She expected to protect and work with her Master, maybe even learn from them as they directed her and whatever Servants they fielded.

Ren and Morgana had changed everything.

Within the first Singularity, they pulled out unknown magecraft that could compete with Servants – already an impossibility. They both had battlefield experience, easily staying calm and giving directions no matter the situation. Ren himself did… SOMETHING that apparently saved their director, even if they couldn’t contact or have any sort of access to her. And of course, Ren’s eyes themselves could somehow track Servants even when hidden. She thought she had seen everything.

Until some odd app appeared on Ren’s phone and dragged all of them into Archer’s reality marble. And when they did, Ren ended up in a different outfit – a sharp style that she had only read about in her books before. Then she remembered the name of the familiar Ren called the most often – Arsene – and it clicked for her. A Phantom Thief.

Before she could ask any questions, her two Masters darted away with inhuman speed, Saber quickly following behind after a split second’s hesitation. The dragon’s flames quickly caught her attention. She raced over to Archer with Jeanne by her side, accessing her power and utilizing her Noble Phantasm once more. They blocked the flames, leaving her a lot more drained than she expected, but forgot all her exhaustion as she witnessed her two Masters fight and quickly corner the doppelganger.

Ren and Morgana weren’t demi-Servants. They were supposed to be regular people (well, Morgana was certainly not ‘regular’ but that didn’t matter), yet they could fight a Servant on even ground – and were even winning too. She shivered with abject fear when Satan was once again summoned and felt the presence of the Servant when the armored warrior appeared, almost like Lancer himself was in front of her. And it nearly used a Noble Phantasm of its own.

And now, she was running alongside them, keeping an eye out for any threats as they made their way towards the castle, where Marie and Mozart were. She tried to push aside all her questions, focusing on the task at hand, but it was difficult. Ren and Morgana had been pulling off impossibility after impossibility. The doppelganger had called Ren an abomination, and while Mash certainly didn’t agree with that title, even she was uncertain whether Ren was fully human or not. It had been constantly reinforced to her that people from the modern era couldn’t become Servants – or at least, not as easily. And even if they could, they would be far weaker than most others that had age and mystery granting them more power.

They raced through the broken hallways of the castle. Older ruins gave way to fresh debris and damage, marking the trail of the Servants’ battle. Mash grit her teeth and gripped her shield tighter, ready to move in a moment’s notice. Any questions she had right now weren’t relevant. Her Masters may be capable of many things, but they still relied on her to watch their backs. She would not break that trust.

Turning a corner, they expected a fight… and were greeted by a different sight. The area around them was blasted into nothing, exposing the area to the elements as rain fell in uninterrupted. Marie and Mozart were kneeling next to a man sitting against a wall, their faces etched with concern. The man was large and muscular, with a long mane of silver hair and green eyes. He was surprisingly lightly armored, with only pauldrons, bracers, and greaves. His entire front was exposed, revealing a glowing green tattoo etched on his chest. Though just from sight he cut a powerful figure, he was covered in countless wounds and injuries, blood seeping through his clothes.

Marie glanced up at the approaching footsteps, instinctively throwing an arm in front of the exhausted man before she saw who it was. A few surprised blinks gave way to her usual radiant smile once more. “Ah, bonjour!” she chirped out happily. “It is good to see you all hale and whole!” Her smile widened ash she clapped her hands together. “You all must be extraordinarily capable! Fighting off five Servants as well as a horde of wyverns and a legendary dragon! You must be heroes beyond measure in life!”

Saber shook her head. “Thank you for the praise, but the success is not all ours,” she explained. “I recognized one of them. Sir Lancelot of the Round Table. Had it not been for my Master’s… magecraft-“ the King of Knights glanced over at Morgana at that word. “I doubt I would’ve come out of our duel unscathed. Archer dealt with the bulk of the enemy forces, and our Masters provided key support. If people are to be thanked, it is them. But what of you? We saw the explosion from outside and were come to reinforce you.”

The Rider Servant’s mouth fell open a bit in surprise. Even when she was human she knew the tales of Arthurian legend. Sir Lancelot was considered a knight without peer in martial skill. The fact that Saber came out of that fight without any problems spoke both her powers and Morgana’s assistance. And their Archer had dealt with the bulk of enemy forces…? She has so many questions she had to ask, but instead settled for answering Saber’s.

“Oui, we did have to fight with two Servants – Charles Henri Sanson and the Phantom of the Opera,” she replied. “It was most troublesome until our brave knight came through and aided us. His Noble Phantasm managed to take care of the Phantom, though Sanson escaped.” The Servants frowned, to the confusion of Ren and Morgana. They knew of Sanson’s origins. It was remarkable that Marie was taking this so well all things considered. A coughing fit from the knight caught their attention.

“So you are the ones who fought off the Dragon Witch’s forces?” he rasped out, doing his best to smile – which came off as a grimace – as he attempted to stand, hand on the wall for support. Mozart immediately moved his arm over his shoulders to help lift the man up. “I thank you. My apologies I couldn’t offer my support. I’m currently not in the best condition right now.”

Morgana huffed. “Well, we’ll take care of that. Zorro!” His usual persona appeared once more and traced a pattern with his rapier, causing a green light to glow around the armored man as a fresh breeze blew through. The light faded and… nothing. The man was still gravely injured. Morgana scowled. “Seriously?!” he demanded, his tone frustrated. Why does his healing always fail at the worst times possible?!

The man chuckled weakly. “My apologies again,” he murmured. “But these wounds are unfortunately cursed. They won’t heal with simple healing magecraft or prana. They will need to be exorcised first with a Baptism Rite. I believe Saints should be able to do so.”

Everyone immediately looked at Jeanne, who frowned sadly and shook her head. “My summoning deprived me of too many of my abilities,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’m not powerful enough to perform a Baptism Rite.”

Morgana facepalmed. “Well, we’re back to square one then,” he groaned. “Anyway, let’s grab him and go. It’s not safe to stick around here. Er… sorry, I don’t think we caught your name.”

The wounded man smiled. “Ah, I neglected to introduce myself,” he commented. “I am Siegfried, Saber class Servant. Judging from the roars I heard outside, I take it Fafnir has appeared too. I truly am destined to slay him no matter where I appear, it seems.”

Ren recognized the name immediately – not just from his studies, but also because he knew the persona as well. Like Cu Chulainn before him, the Servant Siegfriend couldn’t have looked any more different than the persona one, but he had no doubt they were the same… well, not ‘person’ but ‘being’ would be more accurate. He kept his mouth closed for now, though. There were still many things that had to be done. Still, that settled it: Siegfried was the dragonslayer they were looking for.

“We’ll grab any explanations we need on the way,” Ren stated. “For now, Morgana’s right. People will be wondering what happened here. We should go before we have to deal with more issues.”

Right on cue, Archer, who had moved to the opening the explosion had caused and was keeping watch, spoke up. “I see a contingent of French soldiers coming this way from the west,” he observed. “Gilles de Rais is at the head.”

That settled it. Saber moved to take Siegfried’s other arm to help Mozart shoulder the weight. That done, they all made their way out of Lyon to the north, the rain covering their retreat. As they reached the forests north of the city, the rain gradually abated to a sprinkle. The soil beneath them sank and sloshed from the pooled water underneath, turning the dirt into mud as puddles swirled about.

Despite it still being day, Ren and Morgana were exhausted. They utilized their magecraft no small number of times with barely any respite and just existed the Metaverse, with all the exhaustion that came with it. Their limbs were heavy, their bodies were sore, and they could barely keep their eyelids open.

Mash had been the quickest to notice the Masters’ condition and pulled out the map of the area, quickly finding a cave that mercifully was only a short walk away. Both Ren and Morgana collapsed on the thankfully dry ground as Saber and Mozart deposited Siegfried a short distance away. That done, Saber took one glance at her Masters and immediately took over.

“Mash, come with me – we must find a leyline to secure communications and further supplies,” she commanded. “Archer, Jeanne, keep watch. Marie, Mozart, attend to Siegfried and the Masters as necessary. Our Masters are exhausted and we’re low on prana ourselves. I doubt we’ll be able to sally forth until tomorrow at earliest.” Everyone blinked at her but after only a moment, they all began moving about to attend to their duties. Nobody argued with a king with B ranked charisma, after all.

Ren watched through bleary eyes as everyone moved about. Morgana had already curled up to sleep off his exhaustion. Same with Siegfriend. Deciding there was nothing to be done, he closed his eyes as well and soon drifted off.

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“Welcome back, my Trickster.”

Ren smiled at Lavenza and nodded at Igor. “I’ve a lot of questions for you guys,” Ren commented with a lightness he didn’t feel in the slightest. “But I’m guessing you guys already know what I’m gonna ask anyway.”

Igor’s smile widened as he regarded Ren with his bloodshot eyes. “And you would be correct once more, my dear guest,” he said. “As we have stated, by coming into a Singularity, we have gained access to a limited Collective Unconsciousness. As the situation is still incredibly dire, I am granting you as much power as we can spare. Thus, allowing you to regain access to the Metaverse. Unlike before, you will not be able to share the app among your companions but given the nature of magi, this is, surprisingly, to our benefit.”

“However, the Metaverse will be far more dangerous than before,” Lavenza warned. “The Palaces of Servants will not be like anything you have ever encountered before. Many of their legends and powers have come from their distorted desires and would’ve grown vast beyond that of many. You have new allies now and the restoration of yourself as a Phantom Thief, but do not let your guard down. Overconfidence could easily cost you when you have far too much to lose.”

Ren nodded. That certainly made sense. He didn’t expect them to have Palaces on the scale of Kamoshida or Madarame. These were heroes and legends, after all. If they had distorted desires, they would be correspondingly far larger. He already had a sample: Archer’s Unlimited Blade Works. A vast, barren world filled with legendary swords. He couldn’t appreciate it at the moment, but he could still remember it clearly.

Was that truly how he saw the entire world? His desire was to help people. By itself it shouldn’t be a distorted desire or all of the Thieves would have Palaces in their own right. The scale was beyond staggering in scope. He wouldn’t even know how to begin operating in such a Palace if he had to.

And that brought another question: Would it be proper to deal with that Palace? What would destroying a Palace do to a Servant? He and his friends didn’t track down everyone who had a Palace for a reason. They wanted to give hope to everyone and give them a chance to stand up for themselves, not have everyone under their thumb. It was what Yaldabaoth tried to tempt him with all that time ago, and he refused utterly. They didn’t do what they did because they wanted to have control. They wanted to bring hope.

It was perhaps a naïve, idealistic viewpoint they all held, but one they held regardless. After all, if they couldn’t trust people to find their own way, then what was the point of rebelling against an oppressive society just to become the oppressors in turn?

“Now then, I believe there was something you wanted to try, my Trickster?” Lavenza asked. Ren blinked in surprise and met Lavenza’s smile with a rueful one of his own. “I believe the persona you want is in the Compendium right now.” She opened the transparent pages of the still-damaged Compendium to the one Ren had been thinking of. With a nod from Ren, she summoned the Persona, the being turning into another one of his masks. “I do not know how your experiment will fare, my Trickster, but I trust you as I always do,” she said. She gave a reassuring smile.

“May luck be on your side.”

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Ren’s eyes snapped awake. His body felt much more energized than before. A small campfire had been set up, though only a few faint embers remained. Beside it was Mash, her breathing gentle as she quietly slept. Morgana was still curled up, peacefully asleep. It was completely dark outside, with the clouds obscuring the moon. Siegfried was also asleep off in a corner of the cave.

Besides him, the other Servants were awake. Archer and Jeanne were sitting at the cave entrance, keeping watch. Marie and Mozart were near Siegfried, having a whispered conversation. He saw no sign of Saber but wasn’t too worried – he knew she could handle herself.

He quietly stood up, drawing the attention of the servants. “It’s a few more hours before dawn, Master,” Archer commented. “I suggest getting a bit more sleep.”

Ren nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I will. I just want to try something. Siegfried said only a Saint could cure his wounds, right?”

Jeanne nodded. “That’s correct,” she replied. “We took a look over his wounds and I even tried myself, but whatever was done is beyond my ability to remove. It seems your Doctor Roman may have located another Saint as well, so we’ll most likely head out to meet with them tomorrow. God willing, we should be able to make it there without further issues.”

Tomorrow. Time certainly felt different to Ren. Everything that had happened recently had been less than a week. A week ago, he was back in Japan, chatting with his friends online while trying to rebuild his life. Now here he was in Medieval France, surrounded by and fighting with beings straight from myth and legend, far beyond his own personas. Just this week alone made his adventures in the Metaverse feel like a gentle stroll.

He walked over to the sleeping Servant. Siegfried had a cover placed under him, which was getting soaked in his blood. This would be extremely demanding of him but if it worked, then it would certainly help relieve the burden considerably. If the doppelganger saw that they were traveling far more slowly because they were carrying a heavily wounded infamous dragonslayer with them, he had no doubt she would leverage that advantage to no end. Calling forth the persona, he felt his magic circuits warm up as he tore off his metaphorical mask.

“Maria.”

A flash of blue flame heralded the new Persona, drawing everyone’s attention with muted exclamations. It was a statue of a pious nun, head bowed in humility with her hands open symbolizing her generosity. Above her head was a disc of gold, representing a halo, while framed around her figure was a ring of the same material, representing her divine aura. All around her were carved reliefs of various beasts: An eagle, a lion, a bull, even a T-Rex. Around her floated more golden discs as well.

Ren took a deep breath. With a mental command, the statue-like Persona glowed. A powerful green light began emitting from Siegfried as a cool spring breeze once more blew through. Illusory grass and flowers began blooming under him.

The Master gritted his teeth. Calling forth Maria in the real world was already a burden but utilizing her was even harder. And he was using a move that even in the Metaverse, Ren had considered too costly to use too often: Salvation. It could heal fully and cure from most ailments – like in this case, curses - but it took a great amount of power to use. Maria’s trait allowed it to be far less taxing but even now, he could feel the circuits burning through his body.

And at first, it seemed like nothing happened… then Siegfried’s wounds started to close. His eyes widening, he committed more energy to the spell. The glow became more intense as the wounds began closing faster, Siegfried’s breathing becoming easier. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at himself as his wounds began sealing up, his eyes widening as he witness Ren and Maria. “What in Odin’s auspices…” he whispered.

Burning pain lanced through Ren as he continued, but he didn’t let up. His body felt weaker and everything hurt, but still, he didn’t let up. His veins and nervous all felt like molten metal, but he could endure this. Just for a bit longer. As the last of Siegfried’s wounds finally closed, despite the torturous pain, he let out an exhausted smile.

And the ground rushed up to meet him.