It had been a few days since they parted ways. The march south from Florence had proven uneventful overall – the most they had done was stop by Rome to resupply before continuing on towards the southern docks. Though a force was left to defend the capitol, it was merely a few hundred Roman soldiers, most of them unfit to serve for one reason or another: The injured and infirm, the inexperienced and in-training, the brash and the stupid.
All of it served to remind everyone that Nero had bet just about everything on this campaign. If it failed, then that was that. There would be no more Roman Empire – or human history, for that matter.
Such facts the soldiers were seemingly trying to ignore as Morgana stalked through the camp, listening. He had transformed into his cat form once more as he performed his own reconnaissance, his footsteps silent as he moved between shadows and hopped on tents. It was easier than he thought – no one really looked up at the tops of tents, nor looked down. If it weren’t for circumstances, he would’ve laughed at their lax vigilance.
Both Rider and Archer were performing reconnaissance on his orders – Archer acting as a sentry thanks to his supernatural eyesight, with Rider supplementing him as she patrolled beyond the bounds of the camp. Morgana rarely left things to chance, especially when they certainly weren’t surrounded by friends. It was better safe than sorry in such a scenario, even more so without Joker around.
“So, what do you think about those auxiliaries?”
Morgana froze. Tracking down the source, he stayed close to the tent to conceal himself before coming across three soldiers sitting on the ground, playing dice. This was a corner of the camp where there were few patrols and limited sightlines. No doubt that whatever they were doing most likely wasn’t widely accepted by the army.
A second soldier scoffed as he rolled. “What, those freaks?” he asked scornfully (Morgana’s fur raised in indignation). “They’re strong but I trust them as far as I can throw them. You watch, they’ll backstab us as soon as the other guys pay them more, you mark my words.”
“But we haven’t seen any signs of them getting paid,” a third one mused. “And they don’t talk about money – at all. They seemed more curious about us and the emperor.”
“And that’s the point!” he exclaimed, slapping his knee. “They’re here getting information about us, then trade them in for even more pay from the enemy! Them fighting with us is just to lull us into a false sense of security, then right when we need them most, they’ll turn! You mark my words-!”
“Three sixes,” the first one commented as he raised the cup, revealing the dice.
There was a round of cursing – loudly from the second soldier and quietly from the third one – as coins exchanged hands. “Look, if the emperor and legates trust them, then so should we,” the third soldier murmured. “This is the best we’ve done in a while now. Before we were all just twiddling our thumbs in Rome, waiting for inevitable defeat and death. And now we’re on this campaign that might actually win.”
Morgana saw the third one open his mouth to retort when the first one scoffed. “The emperor says a lot,” he grumbled. “I’m not even sure if she knows the ass end of an ass if it’s not attached to some pretty boy or girl.” The comment elicited quiet chuckles from the third soldier and almost raucous laughter from the second. “But so long as we get paid and fed, I don’t care.”
The second soldier scoffed. “You’re almost as mercenary as those auxiliaries,” he muttered, giving his compatriot a stink-eye.
“So long as I’m still breathing in the end,” he replied with a shrug. “I still got a farm to run so it’s already been too long, if you ask me.” He tossed the dice back into the cup and began shaking. “Call it,” he commanded.
The Phantom Thief quietly walked away as the three resumed their game. It had been a similar story all around from what he had been hearing – a mix of faith in the emperor and them, skepticism, and criticism. Many of them didn’t care and just wanted to head home. At least none of them were making plans to spring an ambush when they least expected, but it was still concerning.
After a bit more wandering, he sauntered back to his tent before accessing his circuits and transformed back into his Metaverse form. He had more or less been sticking to this form as a way of practicing his circuits as well as getting more used to his form. Although both the cat form and his Metaverse form felt natural, he couldn’t deny that he had less practice with the latter than the former. And with how everything had been shaking down, even a bit more familiarity with both forms could mean the difference between life and death.
Thinking back, this form would’ve been nice at Ren’s departure, when the van broke down and he had to repair it. Would it have killed the others to help out a little bit, or at least give him an extra pair of human hands to work with? Fixing things in cat form wasn’t easy, especially with tools not meant for cats! Sure, he could do it because he was awesome that way but that didn’t mean it couldn’t have been easier!
He sat down with a sigh on the bedroll, his eyes easily adjusting to the oncoming darkness of the evening. With a thought, he quickly reached out to both Archer and Rider.
“Anything out of the ordinary?” he asked.
“A few refugees and wanderers, some beasts, patrols,” Archer drawled from his perch – wherever it was. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Master.”
“Much the same on my end, Master,” came Medusa’s quiet report. “There appears to be no external threats for the time being, as before. What of internal? Is there anything to be concerned about?”
Morgana sighed. “Same as always,” he replied tiredly. “Just the usual small talk between all the soldiers. The legate seems to be too busy making plans to say anything about us at all. As far as I know, they’re not planning on either backstabbing us or just leaving us high and dry.”
Outside, he could hear traces of sergeants shouting orders as the soldiers trained or continued with their chores as commanded, as well as the occasional stomps of patrols as they weaved their way around the tents. It was a typical night for a Roman camp all in all.
“Well, if there isn’t anything else, you two get some rest,” he said as he transformed back into his cat form. “I’m going to catch some shuteye. We’ll need all the energy we can get for tomorrow.”
“Of course, Master,” Rider replied.
Nodding silently as everyone withdrew their mental links, he curled up in the middle of the bedroll that was the sole furnishing of the tent. He had to adjust himself and knead the bedroll several times and even then, it was barely serviceable. As he settled down to sleep, he looked around the tent and sighed once more before closing his eyes.
It felt overwhelmingly big without Ren.
-----------
Archer casually kept watch on top of a small hill nearby. Even though it was getting dark, his eyesight was still able to pick out even the smallest details from miles away. It was a simple matter for him, especially with reinforcement magecraft. He could’ve done with a bit higher ground, but this would be serviceable enough regardless.
The camp was quiet, as well as its surroundings, giving him time to think. He had seen much as a counter guardian, to put it mildly, both supernatural and natural. As much as he racked his memories though, he couldn’t seem to remember dealing with anything like Ren and Morgana’s powers and enemies. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was dispatched on every single counter guardian job, but he had been sent on many regardless.
Persona, Palaces, a cognitive god… frankly, it was almost as unbelievable as these singularities and Chaldea itself. But then, when it came to the Moonlit World, it was almost expected to encounter impossibilities on some regular basis at this point.
“Did you notice anything?” Archer asked casually to seemingly nobody.
Rider, who was behind him, answered. “Nothing that requires reporting, Archer,” she murmured. “It would seem our Master is quite vigilant, especially compared to Ren Amamiya.”
Archer snorted in agreement. Indeed, Morgana may be the louder mouthed of the two, but he was far more cautious than his best friend. They hadn’t expected him to call for regular patrols while he did his own homework, but for the two cautious Servants, they were pleasantly surprised. So far, their vigils had proven unwarranted as they had been safe, but that wasn’t something to be left to chance.
The red-mantled hero glanced over. “You could’ve simply told me telepathically there was nothing to report,” he noted. Rider almost imperceptibly nodded. The Archer was no fool – he would’ve easily divined her intentions for a conversation. Even though he turned back to gaze at their surroundings, she could tell he was listening. “So, what do you want to talk about, Rider?” he asked. “Unless I’m mistaken, I wasn’t aware we were close enough for a casual conversation.”
Rider was silent and still. Archer had to admit, it was hard to get a good read on Medusa compared to other Servants. Even Artoria was easier to read than her, despite being a king. The blindfold certainly didn’t help either – eyes were often the first giveaway to a person’s thoughts. Regardless, though they weren’t on the best terms, they at least trusted each other enough to do their jobs.
“Do you trust our Masters?” she asked.
Archer glanced over in mild surprise. “They are naïve,” he admitted. “But they are committed to doing what good they can. At the very least, I don’t mind helping them out.” He observed the purple-haired Servant, frowning slightly. “Is there a reason not to?” he asked cautiously.
Medusa didn’t reply. They shared an uncomfortable silence as Archer turned back to keep watch over the landscape. He waited for her reply – whether for her to actually speak or her to simply leave, either is likely with her – when she spoke again. “There are some… aspects about our Masters,” she said, a tint of uncertainty to her normally blank voice. “That I am unsure about.”
That caught the red-mantled hero’s attention. Medusa was many things, and perceptive was certainly one of them. Laconic was another; she wouldn’t have spoken about this if she didn’t believe it was worth talking about. Unlike certain Servants like Marie and Mozart, she wasn’t the type to indulge in casual gossip. “What do you mean?” Archer asked warily.
The Rider hesitated once more, trying to figure out how best to word this or whether to even tell him in the first place. “If there was a possibility of having a world where all your dreams are fulfilled,” she said slowly. “And a chance to see your loved ones again… would you take such a world, Archer?”
Emiya blinked in surprise at the question, unable to answer the question. Then he gave a quiet, humorless chuckle. “I didn’t realize you learned how to tell jokes, Rider,” he commented as he shot her a mirthless smile.
Medusa turned sharply at him, a frown creasing the corners of her lips – the most emotion she had shown towards him thus far. “And precisely what makes you think I joke, Archer?” she asked with an edge to her tone.
The red-mantled hero raised two fingers. “First, it is impossible for such a world to exist,” he explained. “If everyone has dreams or desires, sooner or later, they’ll conflict with one another. Fulfilling one dream would mean denying another’s dream in turn. Thus, a world like that is impossible to achieve.” If such a world existed, then that would mean he would no longer need to be a hero of justice… and thus it would guarantee both his salvation and damnation. How truly ironic for him in turn.
“The second and most likely reason is that such a world will cause humanity to stagnate,” he continued. “Alaya won’t allow that. If there is a timeline where such a thing happens, it will prune the timeline. Conflicting desires and goals are what Alaya wants, to spur on human development toward one end or another. Therefore, even if such a paradise can be created and can be made to work, it is ultimately an impossibility.”
Archer glanced back at Medusa, who had gone utterly still, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. “I take it our Masters had encountered a way to attain such a world, yet didn’t?” he asked.
Rider didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
Emiya only sighed again as he turned back to the landscape. “Why did you even come to me about this anyway?” he asked wearily. “You should know better as well as I that I don’t have any answers to this. If anything, I would say this simply causes friction and trouble. I take it you have a reason, Rider?”
Medusa once more hesitated before answering. “I heard information from our Masters that I couldn’t rid my thoughts of,” she murmured. “There was no point where I believed it would be prudent to do so; we were either busy with other matters or it would’ve drawn unwelcome attention. Specifically from Avenger.”
Okay, Archer had to admit that was a fair point – Loki was the last person who needed to hear that info, and the trickster god always seemed to be where they weren’t supposed to be. Or they were. Frankly, predicting their movements was next to impossible if they didn’t wish to be predicted. Or were they simply just acting randomly so they couldn’t be tracked? Either way was a possibility.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“And I believe you would be sensible about the information as well,” she added. “You would not take such a matter lightly, nor dismiss it out of hand. I wished to know and hear your opinions of it, Archer.”
He glanced over at her and sighed. “There’s little we can do about it at this point,” he muttered. “They didn’t bring the world to fruition and even if they did, it would have been pruned regardless. All we can do is see our Masters’ decisions through.”
Once more, Rider was silent. Then she nodded. “You speak sense, Archer,” she murmured quietly. However, the telltale tremor in her voice notified him that she wasn’t fully convinced overall. Not that he could blame her. “I will resume my patrol. I don’t believe I need to mention this, but I do ask for your discretion about this topic.”
Archer sighed aridly. “I would suggest you take that advice yourself first,” he pointed out, earning him a sharp glare that he could feel despite the blindfold covering Medusa’s eyes. One that he ignored as he continued scanning the landscape, feeling the Rider’s presence vanishing behind him. Once she was gone, he could only sigh once again while massaging his eyes.
Reality Marbles that could be Palaces, which he had. A paradise of a world where everyone’s desires were fulfilled. Abilities to enter cognitions and change a person from within. The more he knew about his Masters, the greater the headache he had. Frankly, it was shocking that the Counter Force hadn’t stepped in at any point of their adventures – especially when the world was at risk of stagnating.
He glanced back down at the camp, his eyes easily picking out where Morgana was currently sleeping. Whether here or in a more normal Holy Grail War, things never really got any easier for him, did they?
----------
The day came without much trouble. Once packed up, it was only a short journey south to the town of Orbetello, reaching there by mid-afternoon. It was a quiet town overall, with one key disturbance: The huge number of Roman soldiers that were marching through the town, working on various logistics or engineering works and directing the few citizens left to assist with that. It ended up being lively, though there was a palpable air of tension throughout.
Morgana followed the soldiers down to the docks below. There were a small number of ships there of varying sizes. He expected some large warships meant for ferrying all these troops along, maybe even an entire fleet. What he saw, however, were a number of smaller boats and a couple larger ships – absolutely none of them looked all that fit for combat. He decided to send a mental communication to Archer and Rider, who stood beside him.
‘Uh, Nero’s navy looks a bit… sparse,’ he commented.
‘That’s because it is,’ Archer muttered in turn as he looked over the boats with crossed arms and critical eyes. ‘Those are merely fishing boats and trade barges, not warships. Chances are good that the legions commandeered them and are refitting them to serve at least as functional troop transports. They’ll get us to where we need to go, but if we have to fight on them, we’ll be at a disadvantage.’
‘It would seem even on the naval front, the emperor’s forces are stretched thin,’ Rider observed drily. ‘I wonder how she expected to pull off this plan.’
The catlike being considered, frowning. Before he could make any further comment, a soldier ran up. “Auxiliaries,” he panted out. “Legate Evander wishes to speak with you. He is holding council by the docks.”
Morgana blinked in surprise, then nodded. He turned to the two Servants. “We better meet with the legate and see what the plan is,” he said. Both Servants nodded in turn. With their plan made, they traveled down the paved streets of the town towards the docks, led by the soldier. Before long, they were shown a larger building that seemed to be some sort of office. Walking through, they came upon the impromptu war room, set up in a meeting room. A map was hung up on the wall, though another kind of map was laid on the table.
Legate Evander and his officers looked up as they walked in. The former frowned a bit in displeasure but nodded. “Good, you’re here,” he said curtly. “We’ve much to discuss.”
Morgana nodded without answer and hopped up on the table as the two Servants took their positions as well. They had no communication with the legate himself during the entire march, with any messages coming from runners. Granted, there was nothing important he had to address them directly about, but judging from gossip around the camp, he wasn’t exactly thrilled at relying on foreigners to save the empire. Still, it couldn’t be helped. So long as he didn’t get in the way, it should be fine.
“Our scouts have located the enemy encampments on Sicily,” the legate briefed, pointing to the darker pieces on the southern island. “There are two of them: One closest to the peninsula and one to the west, most likely to receive supplies and reinforcements. Currently, there are no naval forces at the encampments that we could see – most likely they are awaiting further forces and had already dispatched who they could on their earlier invasion.”
“But looking at the geography and the state of the ships, I’m guessing a frontal assault isn’t gonna be an option?” Morgana asked, stepping forward with his paws crossed.
The legate shot a sharp glance at Morgana but nevertheless nodded. “Quite correct,” he replied. “They have a good number of vantage points all around, and scouts have spotted scorpions and onagers along the cliffs. Our ships would be picked off if we approached them openly.”
The catlike being blinked, wondering if the translation bugged or something. He glanced over at his Servants in question. “A scorpion is the predecessor of a ballista,” Rider supplied quietly. “And an onager is a large catapult.”
Morgana nodded in gratitude and understanding before turning back to the others. “Is there another place where we can land and maybe we could hit them there?” he asked, looking around.
One of the officers pointed out a spot on the island. “There’s a small cove over here a small distance from the camp,” he pointed out. “It’s the only viable point of entry that has some cover from approach. However, as you can see, the various ways out would be in full view of the encampment. They’ll see us no matter what we do.”
Archer frowned. “And we couldn’t just leave them be?” he asked. “You said yourself that they don’t have any ships. We could easily set up another base and then continue on without them the wiser if need be. Even if they attack, we could easily retreat and regroup.”
Evander shook his head. “Not that easy, auxiliary,” he muttered. “The distance from the island to the mainland is miniscule, even from where they’re located. There’s no shortage of trees around, and if they’re Romans, they’ll have the know-how to make boats. Even if we cut them off, they’ll head for the mainland anyway. We’d set up a welcoming party for them if we had the forces – but we don’t.”
Morgana huffed. “Well, that’s why you’ve got us,” he declared as a plan rapidly formed in his mind. “I’ll head in by night, scout out the area, and see what I can find out. I’ll relay the information to Archer and Rider here so that we can see what we can do – maybe I can even cause a ruckus and give us an opening.”
“Oi, wait,” one officer spoke up. “Why don’t you lot just clear the encampment? We’ve seen what you can do at this point! The three of you can wipe out the camp easily!”
The Master felt a cold shiver down his spine as the answer popped up in his mind. He turned to face the questioner grimly. “Because at this point, the enemy forces can easily retreat or hide if necessary,” he lied. “If they get away, they can provide the enemy with info about us and make things much harder – worst case, they’ll just go around us and try to hit Rome again before we can do anything.”
The real reason was that he would rather not have any unnecessary deaths if he can help it. Was it a stupid decision? Sure. But they could at least come up with some way to either minimize casualties or drive off the enemy forces without resorting to wholesale killing. Granted, it was a bit late to think of that when Ren had given orders to ‘drive off’ the attacking soldiers back in the Appia Road and at Florence…
No. It wasn’t something to think about for now.
The legate considered, rubbing his chin. He frowned at Morgana. “Are you sure about this, auxiliary?” he questioned. “You’ll be by yourself. If you get caught, your companions will have to bail you out and things will become extremely messy.”
Morgana huffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” he snapped with a glare at the legate. “I’ll get this done with no problem! Before you know it, we’ll have the encampment and be well on our way to the next step, you got it!”
Evander narrowed his eyes. “Watch your words, cat,” he growled. “You may have the emperor’s favor but the empire shall be won back by Roman hands. If you screw this up, you will have me to answer to, not her. Am I understood on this front?”
The Phantom Thief met his glare without giving an inch. “When I say I can do it, I can,” he retorted. “Now is there anything else we need to talk about?”
The discussion got back into swing, planning on how to fit the ships so they would be more serviceable for naval combat as well as how to move troops from island to island, as well as setting up probable resupply points and bases of operation. The emphasis was having as few casualties as possible as they didn’t have the manpower or resources to gather more soldiers or build more ships, which thankfully lined up with Morgana’s thinking.
As he left the meeting after it adjourned, he huffed. They were to set sail tomorrow, after gathering all the needed supplies and finishing up the refits. “Rider, can you keep an eye on the legate and officers?” he asked, sending the mental request to the Servant.
“Of course,” she replied simply. Morgana and Archer felt her presence vanish as she left to shadow them.
“You don’t leave anything to chance,” Archer observed.
Morgana huffed. “We don’t have the option,” he grumbled. “This operation needs to succeed, and frankly I’m just as worried about the enemies we have here as we have in front of us. I need to do whatever we can to make sure.”
“And what of Ren and Ritsu?” he asked.
“Joker has a lot of allies and a good head on his shoulders, as well as the emperor’s good graces over there,” Morgana replied without hesitation. “I don’t need to worry so much about him. But here, it’s just us. The Romans here don’t like us and we’re gonna be stuck on a sea campaign which is honestly unfamiliar territory for me.”
He sighed. “This isn’t ideal, but it’s what we got,” he concluded. “It’s why I’ll be trusting you and Rider for this – can I count on your help to see this through?”
The Archer blinked in surprise, then chuckled. “Next you’ll be asking me to handle your landings after making some sort of huge jump,” he snarked. “But then, seeing as you’re a cat, I suppose you’ll be handling your own landings just fine.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” the Phantom Thief exclaimed angrily. All he got back was amused chuckles from both Archer and Rider.
It was going to be a busy day.
----------
The soft piano music once more reached his ears, comforting and soothing to his senses. Although he wasn’t frequently here, he could never forget it. Nor could he ever forget the atmosphere – the air of anticipation, of dread, of hope, and of so many other emotions that composed that of humanity. It washed over his fur like nothing else in the world.
After all, how could he ever forget the feeling of home?
He walked down the hallway that led to the center of the Velvet Room. The outer edges were lined with small hallways with their own cells, but like the ones within, they were all empty. Unlike the time with the imposter Igor, this place was strictly only for invited guests. While it looked like a prison, it wasn’t supposed to function as one until it was abused.
Really, how Yaldabaoth made such a mockery of this place made his blood boil on end. At least the whole matter was cleaned up now.
As he approached the center, he looked up at the three figures that were always here. Two of them were smiling warmly at him, while the third was looking at him with bemused curiosity. “It has been some time, Morgana,” Lavenza noted. “I do hope your travels have been treating you well.”
“They have been, lady Lavenza,” he replied respectfully. As much as he played himself up, even he knew that Lavenza and Igor deserved nothing but respect. “It’s definitely a lot different than back in Tokyo, but I’ll see it through. Can’t disappoint Joker, after all.”
“I doubt you will, but that is reassuring to hear, nevertheless,” she replied with a gentle smile. “You are facing your own trials and tribulations that are equal to what the Trickster now faces – perhaps even more so. Though we cannot help you as we help the Trickster, we will support you how we can.”
Morgana bowed. “That already means a lot to me, thank you,” he replied gratefully. Then a thought entered his mind. “How IS Joker doing, by the way?” he asked. “He’s not already getting into trouble without me, is he?
“Our dear guest is encountering some troubles,” Igor admitted from his table, drawing Morgana’s attention coupled with surprise and worry. “However, it is nothing he cannot ultimately handle. We will counsel him if he believes it necessary but is well within his limits. You need not worry, Magician.”
The catlike being only blinked several times before groaning in exasperation. “I was only gone a few days and he’s already getting in trouble,” he grumbled. “Well, it wouldn’t be Joker if that wasn’t the case. I’m sure you guys are right anyway. He’s come out of stickier situations.” That certainly wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t worry though. How could he not?
He looked over at Olga. “Don’t think we really had a chance to talk all that much,” he noted. “How’s the Velvet Room treating you?”
Olga nodded in respect. “It has treated me just fine,” she replied. “There is much I need to study and more that needs to be done, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. But more importantly, something I needed to address immediately.” With that, Olga bowed. “I’m sorry.”
That caught Morgana by surprise. Glancing over and seeing Lavenza blinking in surprise, she wasn’t expecting that either. Igor, however, seemed the same as always. He had a knack for expecting this kind of stuff, didn’t he? Well, that was Master Igor for them. “Er, for what?” he stammered out, looking back at Olga.
“I had shown you a rather disgraceful attitude back in Fuyuki, even labelling you a Monstrous Beast,” she replied in a contrite tone. “I have been discourteous and ungrateful. Both you and Ren have gone out of your way to help me and even save my life. Perhaps it is late to do so, but I still wish to apologize and make amends.”
Morgana blinked again in surprise, then rubbed the back of his head, abashed. “Ah, it’s fine,” he reassured her. “Water under the bridge at this point. Ren’s already told me you’ve been doing everything you can to help him, so we’ll call it even! We’re just glad we have you on our side!”
The attendant-in-training stood back up, blinking in surprise. Nearby, Igor chuckled. “As you can see, neither our dear guest nor the Magician bear any grudges against you,” he explained, his ever-present smile widening a bit. “They are far different than the magi you are more accustomed to dealing with – a breath of fresh air for you, I should think.”
Olga sighed before nodding in resigned acceptance. Morgana tilted his head in curiosity. “Were the magi you had to deal with not as forgiving?” he asked.
The former director scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “If they did forgive me, it’s only so I would be in their pocket for some future favor,” she muttered. “Honestly, I would say you and Ren are incredibly naïve, dealing with people so easily and in such a straightforward method. Magi would run circles around the two of you and manipulate you both for their own ends constantly until you either exhausted your use or you died.”
The catlike being bristled and was about to retort when Olga looked back down at Morgana. “But clearly, your method is working far better than mine,” she admitted. “And there’s a reason why you’re alive and are the Masters of Chaldea instead of me. It seems I’ve still much to learn despite everything. I thank you and apologize once more for placing the burden of Chaldea and the world on your and Ren’s shoulders.”
With the apology, Morgana deflated a bit. He hadn’t expected the sharp-tongued former director to be so… contrite. It took the wind right out of his sails. He sighed. “Look, apology accepted,” he replied earnestly. “Now can you cut it out? I’m not good at dealing with this kind of thing and honestly, you’re better when you’re your usual self. We’ll be counting on you from here on out, so I hope you’re ready for that.”
Olga blinked, then chuckled – a sound that Morgana honestly hadn’t heard before. “Amamiya said much the same thing,” she replied. “Very well. I will be at your service whenever you require me. For now, it seems that day is breaking. You should probably head back.”
Morgana nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Lots to do today. Olga. Lady Lavenza. Master. I’ll see you guys when I see you!” With that, he waved as he walked down the hallway leading out of the Velvet Room, soon vanishing into the shadows.
Lavenza glanced over at Olga. “Did you not wish to show them your project?”
She shook her head in response. “Not until it’s ready,” she replied firmly. “I should get back to it. They’ll most likely need it before long.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked, soon vanishing into another pocket of the Velvet Room.
Igor chuckled. “What a remarkable group we have this time, don’t we, Lavenza?” he asked, looking over at the senior attendant.
Lavenza smiled in agreement. Remarkable indeed.