The halls of Chaldea were quiet. Aside from the hum of the occasional robot wheeling by, there was no one wandering its sterile halls. The staff were currently either in the command center, on break, or taking care of maintenance. A far cry from when the hallways constantly had researchers, engineers, and magi moving to and fro throughout the facility.

Roman shuffled through the hallways, yawning. He had spent yet another all-nighter in the command room, monitoring Ren and Morgana’s progress throughout the Orleans singularity. He had a considerable scare when he saw Mash’s blood alcohol levels rising and was about to call Ren when Da Vinci pointed out that her blood alcohol levels were nowhere near toxic or intoxicating. Then the Caster essentially booted him out of the chair so he could actually sleep.

Three hours later, he was making his way to the cafeteria. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep ever since the bombing of Chaldea just a week prior. If he wasn’t working throughout the night, he was tossing and turning in bed. There was just too much to think about, and the nightmares of that day never left him either.

He sighed. Maybe he should consult the medical AI and see if he could get it to prescribe him some sleep medication. He was the sole medical expert here, but it wouldn’t be ethical to prescribe himself medicine.

Entering the cafeteria, he blearily saw some of the staff there munching on some food as another robot rolled about in the kitchen, operating the devices. Shambling over to the counter, he collapsed in the chair. A second later, the robot chef rolled up to him. “Greetings, Dr. Archaman,” it greeted him. “Today, we have pasta alfredo with gelato for dessert.”

Italian, huh? Well, that worked for him. Roman gave a tired smile and nodded. The robot wheeled away to start making his dishes.

“You look like you’ve been through the wringer, doc.”

He glanced up and saw one of the engineers sitting beside him. Dustin – a man in his thirties with swept back brown hair. He had originally been hired as a cosmic rays physicist, but showed a good aptitude for the various machinery in Chaldea. A trait that came very much in handy when most of the engineers were killed by the bombing.

Roman chuckled tiredly. “Do I really look that bad?” he asked, running a hand through his matted orange hair.

Dustin laughed. “I’ve seen roadkill that looks better than you,” he bluntly replied. “Hey, chef! Two cups of joe for us here!” The robot acknowledged him and began making the drinks as well. He sagged over on the counter as well. “Though that being said, we’re all being put through the wringer,” he grumbled. “Chaldea’s not supposed to work with such small numbers. It’s a bit balanced by the fact that not as many facilities are being used, but still, it’s a lot.”

The doctor glanced over at the engineer and sure enough, Dustin looked almost as tired and weary as he felt. “It certainly has been difficult,” he agreed. “At least we have the robot staff here helping out. Can you imagine if we didn’t have them?”

The older man shuddered. “Don’t jinx it, doc,” he muttered. “If they break down like that, I might start hitting the bottle just so I don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“As your doctor, I’m supposed to advise you against such an action,” Roman pointed out, though he had a wry smirk. “As a person… if you decide to break out the bottle, let me know.”

Both men broke out laughing. Despite their complaints, they were dedicated to their duties through thick and thin. Dustin had been working almost as hard as Roman alongside Da Vinci to keep their systems running. The engineer had been a casual drinker on his time off, but ever since the bombing hadn’t so much as touched a drop for fear of impairing his faculties.

Roman then placed his laptop on the counter and opened it, navigating to his ever-favorite website. Dustin blinked as he saw the sight before sighing in exasperation. “Still dedicated to Magi*Mari?” he asked tiredly.

The doctor glanced over at Dustin. “Hey, Magi*Mari has good advice! And she’s essential for keeping spirits up!” Roman argued vehemently. “Without her, I’d be collapsing into a sobbing heap right about now! Don’t judge her!”

“I’m not judging her, doc, I’m judging you,” he bluntly replied. “And how the hell is she even broadcasting anyway? There’s no internet anymore.”

“Oh, what does it matter?” Roman snapped. “Magi*Mari is magical, okay? She’s the best and would never let me down! Right, Magi*Mari?”

The white robed digital girl smiled through the screen, then spoke in a cheerful voice. “Maybe you should learn to get your life together and do your job, you good-for-nothing lazy bum!”

Dustin roared with laughter, pounding at the counter as Roman pouted, shutting off his laptop. “W-wow, doc, I didn’t know y-you had s-such a h-h-hobby,” Dustin breathed, barely getting the words out between guffaws. “B-better hope Da Vinci d-doesn’t h-hear that o-or you’ll be up sh-shit creek!”

“Shut up, just, shut up,” Roman grumbled, setting the laptop down and burying his face in his hands. By a miracle, the pasta and gelato was served, as well as a cup of coffee. Roman nodded in gratitude at the robot before digging into the pasta. It wasn’t bad but…

“Not the same as when Archer made it, eh?” Dustin pointed out, noticing Roman’s reaction.

Roman nodded in agreement. Between him and Ren, they were practically spoiled for cuisines and taste. With both of them out on the field, they had to make do with the robot chefs. They were more than serviceable but the dishes just lacked a certain… flair the two added in. “It can’t be helped,” Roman sighed. “They’re both out on the field. Once they come back, we can bug them for their cooking again. Until then, we’ll just have to make do.”

“Cheers to that,” Dustin grumbled. He grabbed his own cup of coffee and sipped it – and flinched. “God, leave it to these robots to make me miss the kid even more.”

The doctor took a drink of the coffee and flinched just as badly. Bitter, with none of those subtle notes of flavors from the coffees Ren made all the time. He had been chugging the stuff by the gallon to get by on the mission. His tongue was practically numb to the bitterness at this point – though that still didn’t make it any less of a chore to drink compared to the deliciousness Ren provided.

This was turning out to be a very long mission.

----------

The morning came with surprising gusto. Sunlight shone through clear, cloudless skies, illuminating the world with its golden rays. A mild breeze blew through the land, keeping the place at a refreshing temperature. It was truly a beautiful day, a perfect day for relaxing… or for marching.

Mash stirred in the bed, eyelids heavy. Her mind felt more sluggish than usual, her limbs heavier. She blearily blinked at the sunlight filtering in through a window. It must be late morning, yet she still felt so tired and heavy. Her arms were wrapped around something warm and soft. She closed her eyes and snuggled into it. Maybe just a couple more minutes…

“I’m not one to talk, Mash, but perhaps we should get moving?”

She blinked as the warm, soft thing vibrated from the sound of someone talking. Opening her eyes once more, she looked up at who talked, and came to a few rapid realizations: The thing she was holding was the one who was talking, it was a person, and most importantly, the person she was clinging to was Ren Amamiya.

Her eyes shot wide open. “S-Senpai?!” she gasped, quickly leaping away.

Ren grinned as he sat up from the bed, straightening his Chaldean uniform. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, Mash,” he joked. “Though you were pretty drunk last night. In case you were wondering, you didn’t do anything. You were just somewhat wasted. Wish all drunk people were as easy to handle as you were.” He chuckled to himself like it was a joke.

Mash could only blink several times, the implications catching up to her. Her face rapidly turned a crimson hue as she bowed as low as possible. “I-I-I-I beg your forgiveness, senpai!” she stuttered. “Th-th-th-that was a slip of j-j-j-judgment a-a-and it w-w-won’t happen a-a-a-again!”

The Master only blinked, then laughed. “It’s fine, Mash, no harm done,” he reassured her as he got out of bed, stretching. “Though for future reference, maybe you shouldn’t drink again? You really don’t know how to handle alcohol, do you?”

Blinking, Mash shook her head. “Um, I guess, senpai,” she murmured. “It was my first time imbibing any alcohol.”

Ren froze. “Your… first time drinking?” he repeated slowly.

The Shielder blinked. “Is something the matter, senpai?” she asked.

He frowned at her, then shook his head. “No, not with you,” he murmured. “I got careless. I should’ve known and kept a better eye out. Sorry about that.”

Mash’s widened as she shook her head. This was the first time he seemed… angry. “Oh, no, senpai, it was my fault!” she rapidly reassured him. “I was the one who decided to drink it out of curiosity. The responsibility lies with me. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

Ren shook his head. “No excuse,” he growled. “I should’ve been more attentive, but I got too relaxed in the end. Things could’ve gone very badly for you if something went wrong.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Oh boy, Roman is going to give me so much crap for this, not like I don’t deserve it at this point,” he muttered.

A moment later, the easy grin had returned to Ren’s face. Mash, however, wasn’t reassured. Despite the smile, she could feel his anger underneath it like magma underneath the surface of a volcano. “Well, at least nothing happened this time,” he said, faking a lighter tone. “I’m glad you had fun last night, though. We should probably meet with the others and see if there’s anything else we need to hash out.”

Mash opened her mouth to answer but before she could, Ren had walked out of the bedroom, leaving her alone. She bit her lip anxiously. She had messed up.

----------

He messed up.

Ren was fuming as he marched down the hallways of the manor. He should’ve known Mash never had alcohol before, given that she had been in Chaldea for all of her life. If it weren’t for the Servants here and the fact that the townspeople and refugees were fairly decent people, things could’ve gone very badly for Mash, and it would have been his fault for being lax in his vigilance.

His mind flashed back to that time before Tokyo. A drunken man accosting a woman, trying to force her into his car. His flushed face twisted in frustration and rage as he pulled at her wrist. He had stepped in to interfere and help the woman… and in the end, was the one who was put in a cop car in handcuffs. The woman herself was the one who ended up damning him, pressured into giving a false testimony of his crimes.

Not too surprising though. Not many wanted to go against Masayoshi Shido, allowing him to run away with a clean slate for almost anything and everything he could do. The fact that justice reached him in the end didn’t make it any less bitter for him to swallow. It was why he continued with being a Phantom Thief after Kamoshida had been taken down: So that they could give people hope and people in power could be held accountable, and not get away with being drunken louts on top of everything else.

Mash being drunk was fairly uneventful overall. He had simply escorted her to an empty bedroom and laid her down while she continued to talk, prodding him for his secrets and his powers. He simply deflected it all, saying he would answer her in the morning. He hadn’t expected her to pull him down with her, then completely wrap herself around him and snuggle. He tried to break free, but her demi-Servant abilities made that impossible. Eventually, he could only just give up and try to get some shuteye himself.

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He shook his head. What the hell was he doing? He was playing around too much. The whole of humanity was gone and here he was, hosting a party in medieval France and allowing those he was supposed to be protecting get drunk! He had been getting lazy. They needed to get back on track.

Opening the door to the study, he noticed that Morgana, Archer, Saber, Jeanne, and Georgios were already there, studying the map once more. They all looked up as Ren entered the room. Morgana flashed a mischievous grin. “Morning, Joker,” he called out. “I’m guessing you slept well?”

Ren forced a grin on his face. “About as well as I could under the circumstances,” he replied, walking over to the map table. The grin soon melted into a stern expression though as he looked down at the map. So, what’s the plan here?” he asked.

Saber frowned. “At the moment, our best bet is to march straight for Orleans,” she replied, pointing to the city. “We do not have the numbers needed for a diversionary strike, we cannot waste time on any obfuscating marches, nor is there any terrain or passages conducive to stealth.” She crossed her arms. “I do not like it, but we have far too little information about the area and what to expect. Most likely we’ll be camping on the outskirts and planning what to do once we’ve scouted the area.”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves stared at the map thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose I could just break out Metatron again and give them the runaround?” he asked, looking up at the assembled group.

Archer shook his head. “Not a good idea, Master,” he replied. “That taunt worked the first time because she wasn’t expecting it and got distracted, and everyone else was in position. If you tried it again here, then there’s likely one of two outcomes: She either doesn’t bother moving whatsoever and even entrenches herself further because she knows you’re here, or she’ll send out everyone and everything in an attempt to kill you. Either way would lead to a bad situation for us.”

“Furthermore, my doppelganger still has the Grail,” Jeanne pointed out. “Even if we emptied out the city, we have no guarantees that she wouldn’t just summon more reinforcements. They could easily stall us out while her main force wheels back around and pincers us.”

Morgana mused over the possibilities. “What about the French army?” he asked, looking up at Jeanne and Georgios. “They’re being led by Gilles de Rais, right? We could use their numbers to help with the attack as well.”

Georgios frowned. “I would not advise that either, Morgana,” he warned. “The French are undoubtedly brave and will fight to the death, but death is all they’ll find, most likely – they’ll quickly end up swarmed and slaughtered before any of us can make any headway. Plus, a large force like that she’ll likely see coming. Our best hope right now is in our smaller contingent, where it’s far harder to track.”

Ren sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, huh?” he muttered. Nobody around the table looked happy at their options, as few as they were. He glanced up at Archer. “What about your Pala – er, reality marble?” he asked, quickly amending himself. “If we lured the bulk of her forces there, couldn’t we use that to cut her numbers down, literally?”

Archer sighed. “Utilizing Unlimited Blade Works is extremely prana-intensive, Master,” he explained patiently. “And even if I snared a large part of the forces, everything within would still need to be killed regardless. We may have one or two shots with it, but I would rather not use it willy-nilly unless I know it would leave a noticeable dent that we could exploit.”

The Master sighed and nodded. That was fair enough. “So, in short, we make our way to Orleans, see what’s going on, and make plans from there,” he summed up. “Not the best plan but looks like it’s our only plan for now.” Well, admittedly he and Morgana had been in tighter spots. They often had their backs to a wall one way or another when they had to infiltrate Palaces. This wouldn’t be much different, except perhaps on a far grander scale. “We’ll make what preparations we need, then we’ll get a move on. The sooner we get there, the faster we can figure out what to do.”

Everyone nodded. Thus dismissed, the Servants all filed out of the door to gather the others and explain the situation, leaving the two Masters behind in the study. Morgana glanced over at Ren. “Something wrong?” he asked, looking up at him curiously.

Ren walked over to the window, looking out at the fields. It almost seemed idyllic, save for the signs of devastation: Ruined and burned buildings, the carved furrow of Fafnir’s crash landing, and he even saw a large makeshift cemetery just a bit beyond the town as well. He grit his teeth. “I’m not doing enough,” he growled. “Not nearly enough.”

Morgana blinked with surprise. “Wha – what the hell are you talking about, Joker?” he asked, flabbergasted. “You of all people are doing everything you can here! ‘Not enough’? Honestly, everyone here thinks you’re doing too much as it is!”

“Is it?” Ren asked, glancing over at Morgana. “Mash got drunk last night because she’d never drank before. If it wasn’t for the Servants and everyone else here being decent, things could’ve gone extremely wrong.”

He leaned over the window, his fingers digging into the frame. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Morgana,” he admitted. “Here I am throwing some party in the middle of medieval France and letting someone I should be protecting get intoxicated, right before we have to march on an enemy base. There could’ve – should’ve – been other things I could do. Instead, I took the most wasteful option.”

“’Wasteful’?” Morgana repeated. “Ren, you were the one who convinced Georgios to throw that party to begin with! And he agreed because you were right: Everyone’s spirits needed lifting! Mash got drunk, sure, but it wasn’t something you could’ve prevented. It was only a mistake that anyone could’ve –“

“’Only a mistake?’” Ren hissed, glaring at Morgana. “A mistake?! Morgana, we can’t afford mistakes! Not anymore! Everyone is gone! If something goes wrong here, then that’s it! The whole world’s finished! Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Sumire, everyone…!” He could stop the tears from springing from his eyes. “We’re the only ones left, Morgana,” he whispered. “If we screw up here, we’ll never see them again.”

His head dropped to his hands. “I can’t afford to screw up even a bit,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, Morgana. It’s just… I don’t even know how to describe it anymore.”

Morgana was silent for a bit. Then he hopped up on the windowsill, summoned his scimitar, and smacked Ren on the top of his head with the flat of the blade. “Ow!” Ren stammer. “Morgana, what-!“

“Get your head in the game!” Morgana snapped. “You’re right, we can’t afford mistakes. However, overthinking things and acting like this isn’t gonna help anyone! We’ve been through a lot of really bad situations before, and this is just another one of them! If we start freaking out now and second guessing ourselves, that’s only gonna make sure we’ll lose in the end.” He glared up at Ren. “Now you tell me – are you gonna keep crying and freaking out about this? Or are you gonna be Joker and see us all through?”

Ren only blinked in surprise with his mouth agape, then he began chuckling, wiping away some of his tears. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he replied, smiling at his friend. “Sorry about losing my composure like that. It must’ve been embarrassing to watch.”

His best friend smiled sympathetically. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself,” he replied reassuringly. “Sometimes, you just gotta have someone to snap your head on straight. Both you and me. We’ll get through this, Joker, and see everyone in the end. And we’ll have some crazy stories to tell them once we get back.”

Then he paused and crossed his paws, pondering. “Actually, I dunno how much we CAN tell them,” he mused. “Chaldea is supposed to be top-secret, after all. Even Futaba couldn’t make a dent in its defenses.”

Ren chuckled again. “Well, we can always ask Roman and Da Vinci,” he replied easily. “And if we can’t, well, we’ll just have to make up some story – and get them that buffet so they’ll forget about it.”

“And sushi!” Morgana chirped.

“And sushi,” Ren agreed. “Now come on, we better get a move on.”

Both of them walked out of the study – and nearly ran straight into Mash at the door. “Whoa, sorry, Mash,” he quickly apologized. “Guess you just missed our meeting. Not much that we didn’t cover last night, though. Long and short of it is that we have to get to Orleans first and scope the situation out first before we can plan our next move.”

Mash blinked with surprise, then hurriedly nodded. “Oh, um, o-of course, senpai!” she stammered.

Ren grinned. “Before we get going, we should have some breakfast first,” he said, walking down the hallway. “Let’s see what we can scrounge up first.”

“Think there’s any more of last night’s fish?” Morgana asked hopefully, following Ren.

Mash followed closely behind them, fidgeting. She had been behind the door listening in on Ren and Morgana’s talk after the meeting. What was she to make of all this? She wanted to help her senpai, but it all had to do with the outside world. A world she had no idea about at all. And it was clear he had a life outside of Chaldea. His own friends and family, his own joys and hobbies. Even after everything, she would still be in Chaldea.

What could she do?

----------

The original plan had been to eat some more rations (much to Morgana’s displeasure), but the refugees and townspeople insisted they could have more of their foodstuffs. To that end, they ended up having a relatively luxurious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and bread. Even then, they started piling more foodstuffs together as supplies for their march to Orleans. Some of them even grabbed whatever farming implements or heirloom weapons to march with them. Jeanne, Georgios, and surprisingly even Saber talked them down.

“I thought you’d be first in line for more food, Saber,” Morgana pointed out cheekily.

Saber scowled at the cat Master. “Do not insult me, Master,” she snapped. “I do not take food unnecessarily. These people have far greater need of it than me, and even when the country has been reestablished, it will be some time before trade and commerce can be rebuilt, as well as cultivating farmland and animals. While I agreed with Ren’s proposition last night, we have taken enough.”

Morgana blinked with surprise, then backed off, lowering his head. “Er, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you,” he apologized ruefully.

The King of Knights nodded, her expression relaxing a bit. “So long as you understand,” she replied, accepting the apology.

With that, with a cheerful farewell from the grateful refugees and townspeople, the Servants and Masters began marching to Orleans. In the end, they took some fruits from the village, if only to appease them and they wouldn’t take more. The apples they had gotten certainly made for a good snack, as Ren could testify as he munched on one on the way.

As they moved along, all the Servants kept their guards up. Even the normally cheerful ones like Marie, Mozart, and Elizabeth were more guarded this time around. They were heading into the heart of enemy territory. There had been no sight or sound of anything – Servants, wyverns, or monsters – and that only made them all the more wary. They could very well be marching straight towards a trap or ambush. Archer and Saber in particular had been scouting, leaving Siegfried as the vanguard as they continued on. But for a good while, there was no sign of anything.

It was mid-afternoon when Archer silently raised a hand for them to stop. They were still a small distance away from Orleans, over at the outskirts. With that, he quickly darted off towards a city, past a crest of small hills. A couple minutes later, he came back. His expression was grim, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “It’s worse than we thought,” he stated.

“What are we looking at, Archer?” Ren asked.

“The city’s crawling with wyverns, monsters, and even shadow Servants,” Archer replied. “If we set even one foot toward Orleans, they’ll swarm us and overwhelm us with sheer numbers. And that’s only what I saw. I don’t know if that doppelganger has set up any traps or ambushes around, and I don’t want to take that risk. The only comfort is that it doesn’t seem any of them are moving anytime soon, nor have we been spotted, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

Morgana scowled. “Ugh, she chose the smartest move and that makes it difficult for us,” he grumbled. “She’s entrenched herself with her forces, meaning breaking through is gonna be difficult, maybe even impossible.” He turned to Jeanne. “You’ve been to Orleans before, right?” he asked. “Can you think of any secret passageways or some way to get in that you think the doppelganger would’ve overlooked?”

Jeanne blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “I can think of a few places but the doppelganger would most likely think of those same locations, wouldn’t she?” she asked. “If she did, then she’ll probably have them guarded or prepared. And if we get caught there, she can easily cut off our escape and wipe us out.”

Marie raised her hand. “Could we not just charge them?” she asked. “I know military strategy isn’t my forte, but I’ve read a few stories. Perhaps if we move fast enough, we could reach the doppelganger and defeat her before she could rally her forces?”

Saber frowned. “Normally not a bad tactic,” the King of Knights admitted. “However, if what Archer says is true, they’re far too entrenched for that to work. They can easily sound an alarm and rebuff our advances. In this scenario, a charge like that would be akin to suicide.”

The group was silent, pondering their situation. An impregnable fortress, with only a few people to work with. They couldn’t risk an open battle or confrontation, and sneaking in would be extraordinarily difficult, even with the few numbers they had. And there was no easy way to capitalize on Ren’s magecraft again, not unless they wanted the doppelganger to dogpile all her forces on him. As capable as he was, even he wouldn’t be able to escape that.

Ren swallowed, then reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Morgana’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking about her Palace?” Morgana asked.

“I don’t think we’ve another choice at this point,” Ren replied grimly. “It’s clear we can’t get into Orleans by a regular way, and frankly this Palace may be more dangerous than anything we’ve ever encountered. The only advantage of it is that the doppelganger won’t know we’re coming.”

“Wait, puppy, what exactly are you talking about?” Elizabeth piped up, glancing over at Ren’s phone. “The heck is a Palace?”

Ren and Morgana looked at each other, then turned to explain to the newcomers – Georgios, Kiyohime, and Elizabeth – about the Palaces and Personas. By the end of the explanation, Kiyohime was frowning in confusion, Georgios looked pensive. As for Elizabeth, she ended up sitting on the ground, cradling her head. “Couldn’t you have made it any less confusing?” she whined.

The Master of Chaldea grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Elizabeth, but that’s the simplest I can make it,” he replied earnestly. He couldn’t exactly blame her. When Morgana first explained the concepts, his and Ryuji’s heads were spinning. They probably understood it only partway through Kamoshida’s Palace, and even then, Makoto made better sense of it all than they did.

“A mental landscape born from distorted desires, and this doppelganger has one,” Georgios mused. “That is a battlefield I am distinctly unfamiliar with. Still, it seems to be our best option at this point. I will follow your lead, Ren Amamiya.”

Kiyohime sighed as she glared at Ren. “At risk of repeating myself once more, you are considerably more dangerous than I thought,” she stated. “If this will bring me closer to my Anchin-sama, then so be it. But be warned that my patience is growing thin – I do not tolerate liars in any capacity, and it is clear you have many secrets you would need to lie about.”

Ren nodded in understanding before looking around at the other Servants. “Right, we’re heading into the Palace now,” he told them. “Me and Morgana are the most experienced in navigating them but even we can’t say for certain how it will be like. We’ll be counting on you guys to watch our backs. Stick close to us unless we say otherwise.”

The Servants all nodded. With that, Ren opened the Metaverse Navigator. As expected, Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s Palace was still in the saved addresses. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button. Their surroundings began twisting and blurring as they entered the cognitive world, preceded only by the app’s announcement:

Beginning navigation.