...
"That is your name, isn't it... Echo."
...
"...Echo."
'She' repeated her name in his voice. It was strange and undeniably unsettling; to hear Saber's voice being spoken by her own mouth, but Monica was long past the point of being hung up on such details. There were more important concerns-
-Such as not falling victim to Assassin's knife.
The two, Saber and the Assassin-Monica, stood in standoff, each waiting with bated breath to see what the other would do. Monica, for her part, only watched Assassin's dagger. She had her role to play, but, for the moment, this was Chrysaor's domain; she'd already made the mistake of interfering before.
Finally, Saber broke the silence, "We don't need to fight, Echo. We only want to talk."
The false-Monica's face contorted with distrust and she spoke once again in Chrysaor's voice, "-Want to talk..?"
It was odd. As the final words exited her mouth, they rippled slightly, becoming discordant and notably rising in pitch; denoting a question.
He nodded resolutely, "Yes. You attacked us, remember? We fought in self-defense, but have no ill-will towards you. In fact, we could have something of a proposition for you."
Assassin's form began to become blurred around the edges, the lines and color beginning to shift and fall away. She retained her form for the moment, but her eyes flicked to the true Monica for a moment before returning to Saber, "-Could have- a proposition..?"
He took a deep breath, "We made contact with Caster's faction; they'd like to make use of your... skills."
He moved to continue speaking- but Assassin's face contorted in rage- it was strange to see much hatred on her own face, "-Caster...."
The sound warbled low, slow, and choppy- like a growl. Her ears-Monica's ears- perked at the reaction, but she resisted the urge to speak and interrupt the negotiation. Saber lowered his arms slightly; he'd clearly picked up on the same oddity. As his head turned in confusion, his eyebrows lowered in concern, and gentle words began to touch his lips- but not quick enough.
Assassin broke forward like a wolf, the multi-colored strings that made her illusion becoming unfurled as she ran, and by the time her dagger met Saber's blade, her true form was revealed- complete with her indigo skin and curling white hair. Her rage had subsided, if only slightly, and in its place was a cold determination that belied the fire burning within. Her face, in of itself, appeared gentle, with large round eyes like a sheep and a button nose colored with purple freckles- but that natural innocence only made her murderous intent all the more obvious.
Saber was stronger than her, and easily kept her dagger at bay, "Please, let me speak! Why are you so concerned with killing us!?"
But she said nothing, only meeting his sharp eyes with her own, and, as Chrysaor pressed forward to hold her dagger away, it would cleave through nothing as Assassin- Echo- phased into sound once again; her signature reverb speaking on her behalf.
"Master!"
He didn't need to say anything else- she knew exactly what was happening. She pressed deeper into Saber's shadow, as close to him as she could be, and they turned together to listen and prepare for her next attack.
In their closeness, he whispered in a low voice so only she would hear, "You've prepared what you're going to say, right?"
"Yes, but... are we sure we shouldn't wait first? Maybe we could still reason with her."
"Likely not, and I don't think she'll back off unless we show that we're serious. I'll give you the signal. Speak quickly; we need to catch her off-guard."
They continued to turn slowly- Saber reached one hand into his jacket pocket. Monica reached into her jeans, peeking in at her phone. It was still on, the app was still open, and the call was still active. All that to mean: the trap was still set.
She braced herself for that typical sound- the sign of Echo's rematerialization. It was frightening, she knew that she was in the crosshairs, but even so, she'd fought off Assassin's attacks before and felt that she was ready for anything.
Behind her, out of view, Assassin reappeared low to the earth, just behind an abandoned vehicle, and ran out towards the duo, the sound too far and too quiet for her to hear.
"Master!"
It was her Servant's cry that alerted her to Echo's otherwise soundless presence, but both were wrapped in false presumptions- Monica was safe. In her crouched run, Assassin rushed Saber's seemingly exposed left side, thrusting her dagger up under his ribs.
More than her Servant's safety, another thought crossed the young Master's mind: 'Wait- I'm not the target?'
Chrysaor's left hand was still in his pocket- and that's where it stayed. He jumped back to avoid the incoming dagger, and she, Monica, had to scurry out of the way. In his backward motion, he brought his armed right hand down on Assassin's small form. She nimbly spun backwards, pirouetting back into a forward thrust towards his abdomen. But Saber's hand was out already. He leaned right, the blade slipping under his arm, and before she could retreat, he flicked his wrist and grabbed hers- a black cord whipped out from inside his clenched fist: a black cord, and a blue light.
...
Earlier that day, Monica's apartment.
Monica walked out of her room. Her blonde and blue hair was still damp from her shower, her eyes inexplicably redder than normal. Nonetheless, she was composed, more so than earlier, and was about ready to formally start the day. Saber was sitting on the couch, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling before he noticed her presence.
After their previous conversation, there was still some awkwardness in the air, and it was Saber who, fittingly, cut through it with a soft smile, "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, almost." She looked away timidly, "I was thinking about our conversation earlier-"
His expression froze as a slight tension touched the edge of his lip.
"-About Assassin."
The tension released, and she had his full attention.
Monica reached into her jacket's pocket, and pulled out what was, to her Servant, an immeasurably strange device: two black eggs connected to each other by black string with an oddly shaped block in its center.
"You said that we could defeat her if we knew how to 'kill sound', right?"
He nodded, confusion behind his gaze.
"Well- I don't know if we could 'kill' sound, but I might know a way to trap it?"
He leaned forward, his focus sharpening as he readied himself for the new information, "Is that right? How's that?"
She pointed at the strange device, "Do you know what these are?"
He stared at it for a moment, "... No. The Grail grants certain basic information about the modern day, but that wasn't included. -But I imagine that's key to your strategy?"
She nodded, "These are 'earbuds'." Her finger moved to the black egg on one side, "They connect to your phone wirelessly and play sound."
In her phrasing, she used several words that Saber was entirely unfamiliar with, but he followed along as best he could, "They... 'play' sound. Does that help us?"
"Yes and no." Her finger slid down the wire to the box-shape in the center, "This- here- is a 'microphone': it collects and transmits sounds."
"That- that can 'capture' sound?"
A small, satisfied smile crossed the young woman's lips. It wasn't often she felt useful, and even less often that she felt genuinely happy with herself, "Yes! I'm thinking- maybe- if we can get this close enough to Assassin, then maybe we can trap her- or at least prevent her from entering her sound form?"
He slowly stood, his mind rapidly moving to consider their options, "Servant abilities often follow seemingly unconventional logic. When you deal with the mystics, things are often more complex than they first appear, but, other times, are much, much simpler."
Her heart began to fall, "Meaning?"
His smile suddenly became much broader, perhaps the most genuine joy she'd seen from him, "This could do wonders, Monica."
...
The edges of Assassin's form began to blur, her body seemingly dissolving into half-visible strings- before suddenly returning to solid shape. She tried again- and met the same result. Assassin- Echo- was trapped in her physical form. Panic touched the edges of her round eyes. Her dagger was trapped in her clenched hand- trapped by the figure of one with undoubtedly more brawn than herself.
The rose ocean behind Saber's eyes rushed forward with pride, before receding back into worry, the necessity of what had to be done.
"Now! Do it now!"
A signal as clear as any other.
She hesitated. Despite the fact that she'd had all afternoon to prepare herself- she hesitated. Monica was afraid, and she knew nothing good could come from what she would do next. But her worry was kept at bay, just barely, just enough to go through with what she knew to be a mistake.
'-those Command Spells can control who- or what- a Servant is.'
"Saber! With my Command Spells I order you-"
A red glow emerged from under her jacket, the highlight of a red snake curled around her forearm, its tail being particularly vibrant.
"-Turn Assassin to stone!"
The serpent's tail grew into a red flame as the rest of the light melted away, finally bursting into a crimson beam that exploded from her arm.
Saber shot straight as if he'd been stabbed in the back. Glowing pink-red veins began to appear across his neck and face, alight and pulsing with what even a non-mage could recognize as pure malevolence. Saber unleashed a horrible, heart-wrenching shout of pain, both hands clasping at his face- his eyes- and releasing Assassin from his grasp.
That pink-red malevolence flowed through his body- his blood- flying to his face and gathering behind his covered eyes as his body trembled and shuddered with pain. Monica could only watch with fear as his hair began to rise and float in the air, as if blowing under the oppression of a ghostly wind. That malevolence- the pressure- filled the air around him, enclosing all their hearts with dread as even the ever-loyal Monica could see him only as a monster- if only for the moment.
Echo, freed from Saber's grasp, moved once more to transform, but couldn't, and only then did she notice the black earbuds still wrapped around her wrist.
Slowly, Chrysaor's body began to settle, and his hands fell from his face. His pink eyes glowed eerily- and what once was a vast ocean behind them became crystal, unfeeling and cruel. Those amethyst eyes locked on Echo as she fumbled with the tangled earbuds, finally yanking them off and throwing them to the ground.
Not before she made the fatal error of meeting his gaze.
The change was instant. In the past, she'd seen fit to compare Echo's impossibly smooth skin to river stone, and that comparison had never been so apt. Her living flesh became suddenly still- even her breath was statuesque with only her eyes, her frightened, desperate eyes communicating any sense of life.
But even then, She hardly seemed to have any more life than her own Servant, who stood there, staring, his hair waving and writhing like a nest of snakes. The only sign of consciousness was his hands- twitching and aimlessly grasping at the air. There was one other odd difference: a strange, glowing mark that appeared on his neck, a zig-zag line resembling a serpent- not unlike her own Command Seals.
It started at the edges of her limbs; Assassin's still body began to petrify. Already like a statue, the only difference was the color and texture as the stone began to crawl up her hands, her legs.
The worst part was her eyes: frightened eyes that begged for mercy while her mouth couldn't. She was helpless, and from where Monica stood, she could see the beginnings of a smile on Chrysaor's face.
....