Carmilla grit her teeth as she moved about in her spiritual form. It was a capability that all Servants had in order to render themselves invisible to the regular human eye. The form also was less energy intensive as well, draining only a fraction of their Master’s prana in exchange. The catch, of course, was that they couldn’t interact properly with the normal world as a result. They would simply phase through things, much like actual ghosts. And not to mention, while most people wouldn’t be able to see them, Servants would be able to detect them anyway. How easily would depend on the Servants’ capabilities… and the capabilities of the Servant in their astral form.
And for someone in an Assassin class, her Presence Concealment skill would allow her to slip past most Servants’ scrutiny without too much of an issue.
She had come along with the doppelganger and her entire force, intent on completely wiping them off the face of the planet. As they had approached Lyon, the doppelganger had ordered her to go into her astral form, sneak up on the Masters – the boy and the catlike creature – and eliminate them. She scowled at those orders. Despite being an Assassin, sneaking about was not what she did. She was a noblewoman! She was supposed to walk forward, and all would capitulate and prostrate before her feet for her pleasure – or she would force them to. But the Madness Enhancement granted by the doppelganger forced her to act, and so she would.
The plan was simple. The doppelganger would lead a saturation attack, using the huge number of wyverns as well as the dragon – the legendary Fafnir – to raze Lyon to the ground as well as separate their enemy. The other Servants would pinpoint each one and eliminate them in a blitz, swarming and taking them down one after another. Divide and conquer was a time-honored strategy for a reason, and this approach would satiate the doppelganger’s rage. Their approach would be covered by the newly summoned Archer in their ranks – the legendary huntress Atalante.
Seeing the nubile young Servant, a dark smirk had spread across her features. Perhaps after this was done, she could partake in her blood as well. Her’s and the Saint’s. She missed the opportunity with Martha, but another saint would do. With all the young female Servants here, their potent blood would serve to grant her their health, beauty, and youthfulness for a very long time.
The approach had been going well. Their Archer indeed countered the red-coated Servant’s arrows, and it seemed none of the other Servants had any ranged capabilities. Then all of them felt a flash of divine power. For the first time in a long time, she felt that chill down her spine that came from facing judgement for her sins. That constant fear when she whiled away her last days in her castle, terrified for her life and her beauty. And the final moments that came, knowing that the Devil had come to take her at last.
They all looked over at the unignorable power. There was the Saint, flying her flag, and beside her was the young girl with the shield – another girl she coveted – and finally the boy. But standing behind them was a figure: A metallic angel, radiating all that holy energy. It felt as though the gaze of God himself was upon her, and she barely held herself back from breaking down at the sight, focusing on the Master instead. The boy’s smirk was clear. He had summoned the angel, unveiling its power to all of them. It was a very deliberate taunt: That God was on their side, and more importantly, the side of the Saint.
As the doppelganger shrieked in rage and started directing the entire force to obliterate them first, a sudden hurricane accosted them. Screaming, she held onto the wyvern for dear life as they were buffeted by the wind. Then explosions rocked around her, one even going off right beside her, blasting off her wyvern’s wing and sending her tumbling to the ground. Within moments, the force practically dissolved into a mess of shrieking wyverns barely fluttering about while others tried to stand before being buried under their peers. The Servants were all scattered as well and followed their own initiatives, the doppelganger unable to countermand them as Fafnir was lured away.
Carmilla cursed as she moved through the ruined streets. Her spiritual form kept the rain off of her, but being forced to move about like a pauper exposed to the elements grated against the very core of her existence. She was beyond enraged at this point. She would find that Master, the cat thing, and that red-coated Archer, and she would take her time relishing in their pain. She would break their bodies, their minds, their spirits, and even when their voices were spent screaming from agony, despair, and anguish, she would not let them go. No, they would be her playthings.
She would also find the other women – the Saint, the shield girl, the Queen, and even their own Archer, and string them up. A thousand slices would suffice to bleed them over a bathtub, where she would enjoy the most decadent of showers and baths. The blood of such beautiful female Servants, giving their beauty and vitality to her, the countess who was the only one worthy of it all. It would all be a fitting recompense and reward for this sheer indignity of being made to move about like a rat. And if that doppelganger withheld even one iota from her, then Carmilla would happily string her up and bleed her out too. A false saint she may be, tainted by anger and hatred, but her beauty matched the Saint’s just the same.
Hearing the sound of conflict nearby, she peered past an alley. The Berserker the doppelganger summoned was fighting against another Servant – a young, blonde woman wielding a glowing sword. Her eyes widened. It was a sword that even the most ignorant Servant would be aware of: Excalibur. She glanced back at the Saber. Undoubtedly a woman. Petite but a beautiful young woman, nevertheless. Perhaps it was Arthur’s wife, Guinivere…? But that was impossible. Never in any of her legends did she wield a sword, let alone bear the skill that could rival that Berserker.
Gulping, her breath caught as she saw one of the Masters: The catlike being. He was keeping a close eye on the fight. His guard was down from exhaustion and focus. Carmilla took a step forward… then stopped. No, too risky, she rationalized. The Saber there was far more than she could handle in open combat. She was a Countess, not a warrior – even she knew she was a far match from that Saber, especially if her worst fears were true. Not to mention, that Berserker was extremely unstable. Technically they were allies, but it wouldn’t surprise Carmilla if he decided to kill her simply because she was in the way. No, going for the cat Master would only mean her death.
Still, Carmilla stole another glance at the Saber. She was a fine specimen. There were certainly no shortage of beautiful female Servants here, were there? She added Saber to her ever-growing mental list of Servants to gather for her own use before moving away. Her Presence Concealment may be only rank D, but in the chaos of combat combined with the rain, she was more or less invisible to everyone there. Only if they deliberately were looking for her would they find her – and all of them were far too busy to do so.
Moving away from the duel between knights, she tracked down other presences within the town. Doubling back past the still struggling pack of wyverns, she moved to the other side. Soon, the sound of combat became more prominent. Looking around the corner, her eyes widened as she sought her quarry. And with no small number of bonuses too.
The shield girl, the Saint, and their own Archer were all fighting one another, moving in tandem. Fighting alongside them was the boy Master, utilizing a gun and taking surprisingly accurate shots at the Servant. It wasn’t doing much except annoying her, but even a moment’s distraction provided yet another opening for the two more defensive Servants to close the gap, denying her the range that was an Archer class’s greatest strength.
Carmilla had to admit, she didn’t expect such a juicy prize to fall right into her lap. The boy Master was here and distracted, fighting off another Servant. Three of the female Servants she wanted to collect were right here. All of them were occupied with each other. It would be child’s play to ambush them, kill the Master, trap the other two in a pincer attack in conjunction with the Archer, and perhaps even bag the Archer while she was worn down from the fight. With those three taken out, the rest should quickly capitulate, both from numbers and the fact that a Master was gone. A smirk crossed her lips. Oh, this situation was utterly ideal, wasn’t it?
However, as she began to move in, the boy Master stopped. Carmilla felt a faint flash of panic across her back before ignoring it. No, impossible. No human, no mage, could have the instinct to detect her in the heat of combat. And even if they did, they wouldn’t have the ability to detect her in time anyway. This was a clear victory for her. And only her.
Then the boy whirled about, his eyes flashing a glowing red. An armored angel appeared behind him, glaring directly at her.
And then everything around her exploded in a flash of light.
----------
Mash and Jeanne charged the blue Archer, who snarled at them before raising her bow. Firing off two arrows (both of which were blocked by Mash taking the lead and raising her shield), she nimbly dodged as both Servants were on her. Going low, she swept out the legs of Jeanne, causing her to collapse on the ground before turning with inhuman speed and aiming a point-blank arrow at Mash’s head. The shielder’s eyes widened. She raised her shield but wouldn’t be able to intercept in time –
There was a gunshot and her arm jerked slightly to the side by a small explosion, causing the arrow to miss – albeit, barely, scratching Mash’s cheek. The blue Archer snarled at the source: Ren, holding up the pistol with a smirk. Whatever retaliation the Archer had in mind was quickly interrupted by Mash smashing her shield into her chest, knocking her back multiple feet, before being forced to dodge Jeanne’s flagpole as it thrust toward her gut.
Despite the madness of the fight, despite it being much bigger than many of the Metaverse battles he had, this was ultimately his element. Ren, no, Joker was adept at navigating through chaos and coming out on top. And what was such a battlefield anything more than just a big ball of it? He was calm as he weighed and analyzed his options and the enemy’s attack patterns. He might not have Futaba or Makoto here with him, but he learned a thing or two just observing the two of them work.
The blue Archer’s greatest asset would be distance. Unlike their own Archer, she was heavily disadvantaged by close-range combat. To compensate for that, however, she had remarkable speed and agility. Even with both Jeanne and Mash bearing down on her, she dodged their attacks with grace and ease, swiftly countering with either swift kicks or point-blank arrow shots. She was a master Archer, without a doubt.
But then, that was where he came in.
He raised his pistol once more. It was difficult to take a shot here, with the three Servants constantly weaving between each other, their positions switching rapidly. Even a master marksman would have a hard time of pulling off a good shot without missing – or worse, hitting his own allies. If he had his Metaverse abilities, he’d be able to take the shot without much difficulty, but no chance here. He needed another advantage.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed his vision to focus. Everything around him dimmed – or rather, everything that was irrelevant to the situation at hand dimmed. In contrast, the Servants glowed brightly to his eyes. Not only that, but their movements were easier to follow and track. The Archer’s speed was still prodigious, but at least it was at the level he could track and predict her movements now. At the very least, it was only a touch harder than the top difficulties of Gun About.
“Don’t just track and aim or you’re always going to be a split second too slow. Once you figure out their movements, aim where they’re going to be. Once you do that, you fill ‘em with lead!”
Ren had to smile. He wondered what Shinya would say if he knew he was about to shoot down figures from myth and legend. The boy would be over the moon, if he ever believed him. And he also knew that if he missed these shots, he would never hear the end of it. Shinya might’ve been his junior by a good five or six years, but his harsh teachings was easily comparable to that of a drill sergeant’s. He might’ve mellowed out ever since the Thieves took his mother’s heart but he was still unforgiving regardless.
Aiming carefully, he pulled the trigger – and was rewarded with the bullets landing right on the Archer’s leg. He only used the regular bullets this time as opposed to the special ones that Da Vinci provided. Ren still needed the element of surprise. Despite them not being broken by prana, they were still fast-moving metallic projectiles. While normally bullets were absolutely no threat to Servants, that didn’t count quite as much if they were heavily distracted fighting two others at once.
The Archer’s eyes widened in shock as he landed the shot, preparing for the pain, only to find there wasn’t. Confusion caused her to hesitate for a split second - for Jeanne to close the distance. She clumsily deflected the Saint’s flag with her bow before Mash’s shield slammed into her gut from the side, sending her flying yet again, crashing into a wall. Ren smirked before clicking his pistol into utilizing the prana-broken bullets once more. He was quite ready for the next round.
Suddenly, he felt a prickle from the back of his neck. Instincts well-honed from his previous adventures that indicated very clearly one thing: Someone was nearby. He whirled about, still utilizing his Third Eye, and saw her. She was blurry, but nevertheless, he could see her outline. And the red aura that glowed about her… no doubt about it. An enemy Servant. He switched to another Persona in his mind and tore off his mask once more.
“Archangel!”
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At his call, the armored angel burst forth in a flash of blue flames. Pointing with its sword, a beam of light blazed where the invisible Servant stood and was rewarded with a cry of pain as the Servant stumbled back. Now visible to all, Ren could see it was the Assassin Servant from earlier: The scantily clad woman who was obsessed with blood. Though she wore her own mask (uncomfortably reminiscent of a Phantom Thief’s mask), he could feel the sheer hatred and wrath burning through her gaze.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again!” he called out cordially, flashing a smirk in her direction. “I don’t have a problem with older woman, but crones like you really aren’t my type. Sorry about that.”
The Assassin’s entire body tensed, and Ren could swear her eyes were bulging out of their sockets beneath their mask. “You impertinent, arrogant, uncouth WORM,” she snarled. With a wave of her scepter, a fountain of blood gushed up, racing towards the small group, forcing them all to dodge. Only Ren’s finely honed instincts allowed him to dodge in time with the other Servants, though it was a close thing. He smiled grimly to himself. He really needed to learn to keep his trap shut at this rate.
Then there was an explosion – the Archer they had just beat down burst out of the rubble, looking worse for wear but all the more feral for it. With a wild shriek, she let loose a withering bombardment of arrows. Mash rapidly moved to block the arrows from striking Ren as Jeanne raced over to take cover with him as well. Unfortunately, pinned down as they were, that left Carmilla free to do as she pleased. Another scepter wave and an iron maiden appeared in front of her. It began rapidly sliding towards them, opening up to reveal rows and rows of spikes, seeking to engulf and skewer them.
Scowling, Ren rapidly switched out for another Persona in his mind.
“Jack Frost!”
A snowman-like being appeared. Only waist high, it wore a blue jester’s cap with a simple smile on its face. With a cry of “Hee ho!”, it pointed to the iron maiden. Ice burst out from underneath, helped by the wet tiles underneath, rooting it in place. The metal from the torture device groaned and screeched as it tried to move forward, the ice gradually cracking. However, it bought them a few seconds of time, which made all the difference.
With a cry, Mash charged forward with her shield up, undaunted by the hail of arrows. The Archer nimbly dodged aside again – and right into a puddle of ice. Ren had summoned Jack Frost once more and caused ice to grow around her feet, trapping her. Meanwhile, Jeanne, now freed up from the suppressive fire, moved between Ren and the iron maiden as it finally broke the ice and shot forward. With a scowl, she swung her flag with all her might, the staff colliding with the iron maiden and sending it careening to the side. Carmilla could only give a frustrated scream in response.
For the Archer, however, things had taken a turn for the worst. With her foot arrested by the ice, the momentum from the dodge caused her to trip up, sending her to her knees. Before she could recover, she received a savage blow from Mash to the head, knocking her straight into the ground. Dazed, the Archer could only scowl up at the shielder as she raised her shield once more and smashed her head in. All that remained of her in the end was golden dust that rapidly dissipated into the air.
“Servant eliminated, Master!” Mash called out.
Ren nodded. “Good work, Mash!” He turned back to the Assassin Servant, who while enraged could clearly see she was at a disadvantage Her ally was dead, dealt with by that shield girl. The three were weary from that fight, but that boy Master was still staring at her with his glowing red eyes. That boy. That damned boy! No matter what any of them did, he always seemed to pull out some new trick or tactic with that magecraft of his! A power that could harm, entrap, and fool Servants, and who knows what else?!
No. She wouldn’t fight a battle she had no chance of winning, not with so many uncertain variables. “You lucked out this time, boy,” she snarled at Ren. “But I will kill you and bleed you like a stuck pig next time. Your impertinence will be the death of you.”
“Yeah, heard that before,” he remarked as the Assassin faded away into spiritual form. He didn’t lower his guard until he saw her rapidly leave before finally relaxing, releasing his Third Eye. Both Mash and Jeanne looked at him owlishly.
“Um, senpai?” Mash began. “What, um, exactly were those eyes?” She pointed to her own eyes for emphasis.
The Master blinked in response. “What about my eyes?” he asked, confused.
Jeanne cleared her throat. “Your eyes were red and glowing,” she explained. “And you were able to track a Servant’s movements, even when they were in spiritual form. Those aren’t abilities a normal human would have.” She wanted to add that it only lent further credence he was some subject of the Devil or a demon himself, but she held her tongue. Saying such a thing would breed pointless hostilities which they couldn’t afford. And she knew that he fought on the side of good, regardless of what his abilities appeared to be.
Ren blinked several times, then he sighed. “They’re a special thing I got a while ago,” he explained. He kept it as vague as possible. There was no way in hell he was telling them about Igor and the Velvet Room. “I’m just happy I can still use it. Anyway, it seems like we’re done here. We need to rendezvous back to the gate.”
Mash and Jeanne hesitated, then nodded. Whatever questions they had could wait. They still had a plan they needed to follow. At the very least, one Servant had been eliminated and the other driven off for now. As they started to move, Ren tripped and fell on his knees. He gritted his teeth as the pain shot through his legs. The adrenaline was passing and the exhaustion and heat from utilizing his circuits was catching up to him. It wasn’t as bad as when he used the Cu Chulainn persona, but it was taking its toll on him.
“Master!” He looked up to see Mash and Jeanne, their faces etched with concern.
He smiled wearily, staggering back up. “It’s fine – I just used my circuits a lot today,” he explained. “We don’t have time to rest.”
Jeanne frowned. “No, we certainly do not,” she murmured. Before any of them could react, Jeanne grabbed hold of Ren and put him in a princess carry. “Permit me my rudeness this once, Ren Amamiya,” she explained. “As you say, time is of the essence and you need to recover what energy you can. Please, consider this part of my penance for doubting you earlier.”
Both Mash and Ren gaped, albeit for entirely different reasons. Mash was shocked that Jeanne would be so… forward in that regard and inwardly seethed for reasons she wasn’t entirely certain why. She could only regret that she didn’t think of such a method sooner to help her Master – though she mentally filed it away in her mind for use later on.
Ren was more shocked at how easily he was picked up and held, and how helpless he felt. It brought up… deeply unpleasant memories. However, he shoved them all down. Instead, he once more donned his ever-confident smile. “Thanks, Jeanne,” he said gratefully. “Let’s get a move on.”
Before they took more than a couple steps, however, a burst of light appeared, blinding them. Ren could only squint as a giant ball of light took shape further down the town. His communicator watch pinged. Holding it up, the hologram of Roman appeared.
“Finally, I got through!” he cried. “It’s Archer! He dragged in the wyverns, the dragon, and the doppelganger into his Noble Phantasm! He has a Reality Marble!”
Mash and Jeanne faltered. “A Reality Marble?!” Jeanne exclaimed.
Ren looked in askance at the doctor, who quickly figured out what his question was. “Layman’s terms, a Reality Marble is a forbidden magecraft that manifests your inner reality into the world,” Roman quickly explained. “No one can get in or out without the mage’s permission! Bottom line, Archer’s stuck by himself in there, fighting an army of wyverns, the dragon, AND the doppelganger!”
Everyone’s eyes widened. They all knew of Archer’s capabilities, but there was no way in hell anyone could fight off such a force by themselves! Mash looked over at Ren. “Your orders, Master?” she asked.
The Master scowled – a rather hilarious image being carried in Jeanne’s arms if it wasn’t so serious. “Unchanged,” he stated. “We can’t get in there so we’ll have to believe in Archer for now. We’re headed to the gate. Let’s go!”
Both women nodded, and once more they made their way to the gate. They were on guard for any other Servants but as their footsteps splattered against puddles and wet cobblestone, they weren’t harangued by anyone else – zombies, wyverns, or Servants. Thus, they made their way back to the gates without any issue. To their surprise, they saw Saber and Morgana showing up at the same time.
The Phantom Thieves were prepared to be mocked by one another – Morgana being carried by Saber, Ren carried by Jeanne – but seeing each other’s predicament, they could only ruefully smile. Their respective Servants gently lowered them to the ground. Their legs were unsteady but at least were able to hold their weight. “You look like you’ve been through a wringer, Mona,” Ren remarked with an unsteady grin.
Morgana matched it, glancing wearily up at his friend. “Psh, it’s me we’re talking about – it was nothing,” he joked. “But as always, you always seem to slip up when I’m not around, Joker.”
Ren just chuckled. It almost felt like everything was the same as before. However, Morgana’s expression soon turned grave. “Hey Joker, you can feel it too, can’t you?” he asked, glancing at the glowing ball of light. The leader of the Phantom Thieves nodded as he looked over as well. After all, it was a feeling that they knew all too well. One didn’t forget the feeling of a Palace, after all. Why did Archer of all people have one?
Then he considered the various figures he studied back in social studies. Off the top of his head, he knew that some of the most infamous figures in Japan like Oda Nobunaga, Toytomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu, most likely would have Palaces, given their ambition and power. Was world history dependent on people who had distorted desires? He never thought about it until now, but the realization was like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head.
Morgana rubbed his head in frustration. “Damnit, a Palace right in front of us and we can’t even get in!” he growled in frustration. Ren had to agree. Aside from the fact that they didn’t have the Metaverse app, they didn’t know the name of Archer or his distortion.
Or did he…?
He remembered the dream of Archer. Of a field of countless swords embedded in his back. He saw much and felt much as well. Information that seemed to trickle into his mind and lay dormant until he was willing to call it to the forefront of thought. Focusing on that, the name of Archer sprang into his mind. “Shirou Emiya…” he quietly murmured.
“Candidate found.”
All five froze at the voice that issued from Ren’s pocket. Ren and Morgana slowly turned to each other, clear shock and horror on their faces. They knew that cool, female voice all too well. He shakily reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. Though it was now useless, he brought it with him anyway as a habit. It had been turned on by itself, and staring at the screen, he could see the red eye of the app staring back at him.
The Metaverse app.
Tapping the app, the search bar appeared. The name ‘Shirou Emiya’ had been filled out in the search bar. They just needed the distortion and the location.
“U-um, s-senpai?” Mash asked, nervously, looking over at the app. “Wh-what are you doing? Y-you know ph-phones don’t w-work here, r-right?” She was dumbfounded by what she saw. She had seen a bit of modern technology before, but it was clear that things were different. It was just the only thing she could say to the whole situation, no matter how dumb it sounded.
Jeanne meanwhile just glanced back and forth at everyone, especially Ren and Morgana, even more lost than before. This was beyond her ken. Saber kept impassive as well, keeping a watch out on their surroundings.
Ren took a deep breath. There was no time to explain. Not right now, anyway. This would be extremely difficult to explain to everyone. If he used the app here, then he would be giving away a great number of his secrets - especially to mages who would exploit this to no end if they knew what was going on. However, humanity and the world was at stake. Ren knew he couldn't afford to be picky at this point.
He dredged up more memories of his Servant from that dream. A barren plain filled with countless swords. A world of unlimited blades… Yes. That was the name. “Unlimited Blade Works.” The app beeped.
“Candidate found.”
They had the distortion. All they needed was the location. Morgana was silent, still trying to process what was going on and waiting with bated breath, as was the other three. Ren would’ve ignored them anyway.
He remembered Archer interrogating him in the kitchen on whether he was seeking to be a hero or not. The questions were pointed, like he was speaking from personal experience. Archer wanted to be a hero, didn’t he? He wanted to be one to save people, no matter where or when. Coupled with those dreams, it became clear to him where he saw the distortion. “The world.” The app beeped in confirmation.
“Keyword Accepted. Beginning Navigation.”
“S-Senpai?!” Mash cried out fearfully as the world began distorting around them. Jeanne and Saber could only look about in shock as well. Ren and Morgana didn’t say anything, only gritted their teeth as they felt the familiar dizzying sensation that came from entering the Metaverse. However, despite the dangers and everything else going on, both Ren and Morgana had to grin.
This was their home turf.
----------
Archer panted as he looked through one eye. The other eye was forced shut from bleeding a bit further up his head. His left arm and a good portion of his left side was heavily burned from dragon fire, to say nothing of the numerous injuries he accumulated. He was certain at least three of his ribs were also broken, making it painful to breathe. He was running out of prana. He didn’t know how much longer he could maintain Unlimited Blade Works.
Before him, the dragon – Fafnir – was covered from head to toe in countless slashes and holes. Each of them oozed blood, dripping out in great quantities. All around him were countless wyverns, all skewered or blasted by various dragonslaying swords. The doppelganger, while in better condition than her mount, wasn’t looking in top shape either, her armor dented and one slash on the side of her neck indicating just how close she came to death herself.
Despite her wounds and Fafnir’s condition, she let out a low chuckle. “Well, didn’t think some Archer could give me this much trouble,” she growled. “But you’ve gone as far as you can, haven’t you? You’re almost out of prana. I’ll admit, you fought pretty well, much better than most of the fucks around here. But it’s over for you. Fafnir, get rid of him.”
Fafnir once more reared up, flames gathering into its maw. Archer scowled. He already broke out Rho Aias to block the dragonfire once, and while it did block the flames, it cost him a great deal of prana to create. Not to mention, it broke two of the seven petals of the shield, the damage in turn being reflected onto him thanks to its special properties. He didn’t have nearly enough speed to dodge aside, nor would he be able to summon another Balmung to counter him.
As the dragon blasted its fire once more, Archer closed his eyes. Guess this was the end of the line for him.
“Lord Chaldeas!”
“Luminosité Eternelle!”
His eyes flashed open as he saw Mash and Jeanne move in front of him, the former’s shield glowing and forming the barrier in front while Jeanne held her banner aloft, golden rays of sunlight shining down on them as Heaven itself blessed the Saint and her allies. The flames flowed around them, scorching the dead land as the two women held firm against the might of a dragon. The smoke was noxious and almost blinding with the heat almost unbearable but regardless, neither of them yielded. Before long, the flames abated, leaving three weary but very much alive Servants.
The doppelganger. “What the – how the hell –“ she spluttered. However, she was soon interrupted by a blue blur diving in and slashing at Fafnir's damaged leg, causing it to roar in pain. The doppelganger looked and gaped as she saw the Saber Servant from earlier back away as Fafnir retaliated by lashing out with its bleeding claw. Unbeknownst to her, a grappling hook secured itself onto Fafnir’s wing behind her, allowing a dark figure to fly up, dagger in hand. A whistle of air was the doppelganger’s only warning as she turned in time to receive a slash from a knife across her torso, knocking her to the ground.
Scowling, she looked up. In front of her now was the catlike Master, grinning down at her with a cutlass in hand. But what truly caught her eye was the boy Master. He was now dressed in a black longcoat with a suit. On his face was a white mask, and his smirk expressed only boundless confidence as he pulled on his red gloves to tighten them around his fingers. His sharp grey eyes, flashing red momentarily, sent shivers down her spine. The feeling she got from them was far different than when she had encountered them outside the Reality Marble.
In front of her stood the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.