I walked back into the cafeteria after the Simulator had concluded not with Iskander deterred by the prospect of nuclear weapon usage, but excited for it.
Reaching the large cafeteria, I went ahead and poured myself a cup of coffee. Barely visible steam emanated from the opened top of the cup, streaming upwards before eventually disappearing from the visual spectrum of light.
I could still see it. Breaching into the infrared section of light, I could easily see how the heat from the coffee was rising upward and diffusing into the environment like someone pouring a cup of water into a lake.
Normally, a human might wait for the coffee to cool before they drink, but I could barely feel the heat. Bringing the cup of coffee to my nose, I took a deep whiff of the stuff before finally taking a sip.
"Ah!"
I coughed, spilling the black liquid onto the table. My brows furrowed in distaste at the bitterness of the coffee. Why is…?
Ah, that's right. Coffee is supposed to be bitter. That's why people added sugar and milk to it.
It's been so long since I last drank coffee that I'd… no I didn't forget about its favor. It's more that I…
I glanced down at the steaming cup of liquid, sitting atop a table dyed brown with spilled coffee.
Being Kukulkan, my memories will never fade. I will always be able to recall every single moment of my conscious existence. If you asked me what I was doing three nights ago at precisely six minutes and nine seconds after midnight, I could describe to you the exact configuration of my room down to the last mote of dust residing upon the top of a table.
My senses record everything. I don't forget stuff. All of those data are then transformed into memories. I think over the course of a month I stored more data than the content of the entire Internet up till 2018.
This aspect of being Kukulkan isn't retroactive. Human memories are inherently flawed, like a piece of cloth riddled with holes upon closer examination. I can't recall every detail of my life before I signed on with the Company. As a result, those comparably tiny memories are being pushed further and further back.
It's being diluted.
They're still there but harder to recall, just like how an adult might find their childhood memories harder to recall.
I thumbed the bridge of my nose as I contemplated what I had just done. I cannot allow Iskander to try to conquer the world. He was the one who wrote the guide on empire building for future generations, and he'll definitely cause more suffering than what even the British might've. Beyond that, the potential of Iskander conquering a nation and then attacking a nuclear superpower…
Nuclear weapons changed how international politics would be done. It changed the calculus that a leader must perform, weighing the options to determine if attacking was the right choice. Iskander is of the old mind. He thinks in ways before the advent of easily deleting a city with a single bomb.
I… I can't just kill him. Having more Servants for aid is necessary. But after repairing the incinerated human history, I don't want Ritsuka to forcefully dismiss him back to the Throne. I don't want to kill him right after his usefulness is gone.
That feels especially scummy.
But at the same time, I'm not just going to have him trigger World War III.
"..."
Wait a minute, what's supposed to happen to the Servants after human history has been repaired?
I know that there's something called a 'Lostbelt' afterward, but given how I've saved Olga, such a drastic change should result in something different, right? I'll have to ask the Director sometimes about this stuff.
Absentmindedly, I took a sip of the coffee, only to immediately cringe at tasting the bitterness at the tip of my tongue again.
"Ugh."
In one single gulp, I drank the coffee in full. Never let it be said that I waste food… even if it tastes horrible.
The empty cup clinked against the table. Glancing into it and seeing the residual coffee, I was reminded of Zvezdnyy's birthday. To be frank, I don't know how to bake a cake. I don't know anything about making food because I have never needed to eat.
Well, I still have a month to prepare for it, how hard could it be?
_____
Two weeks later, Director Olga's room
Director Olga Marie Animusphere looked over the daily log once again, scrolling through thousands upon thousands of logged events and making sure none of them were of anything suspicious.
Late into the night with a clock nearby showing '3:12 am', the woman was hanging by a thread, barely able to keep herself awake with the liberal use of coffee.
Her eyelids would constantly attempt to close, only for the woman to push them open with her fingers. Though it may be painful with her nails digging into her skin, that pain also helped keep her awake. So the Director happily embraced it.
"Ahh…"
Finally, she couldn't help it anymore. Olga's head crashed into the table as she slept.
.
.
.
.
"Zzzzzz… huh?"
Olga woke up. She raised her head, her hair was an explosion of wildness that more resembled tumbleweeds than anything sophisticated.
Director Olga began to look around the room half-mindedly. Her eyes were dull, it was as if she wasn't really there, her mind just starting to turn on like the turbines of a nuclear power station.
The instant her eyes saw the digital clock on her desk displaying '11:32 am', Olga's eyes widened as a jolt of energy coursed through her veins.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
The Director screamed as she bolted from her seat. Thanks to the wheels underneath the chair, it didn't make a loud noise as it rolled across the floor, propelled by Olga's rapid ascension.
Her visions blurring, a migraine blossoming within her head, the Director had to shut her eyes and still herself before she fell to the floor in dizziness.
"Argh. Crap, crap, crap! Utter shit!"
Oh god, she's late! She's so late!
Olga bolted out of her room like a gazelle running away from a predator. Just as she was in the middle of the hallway, the woman noticed how her hair was a mess.
No matter. Without stopping, she snapped her fingers and Olga's hair, as though having minds of their own, rethread themselves into braids and ponytails. It was an application of basic hair magecraft passed down to all female members of the Animusphere family.
In a few short seconds, the wild hair caused by Olga sleeping on the desk was gone.
Now with that worry dealt with, Olga had to focus on the primary one namely, how today was supposed to be when the Commoner and the Goddess were supposed to be Rayshifted into the next Singularity.
And she's late.
Her, the Director of Chaldea, late.
That couldn't happen. Olga refused to let that happen. But it still happened.
So now in the halls of the last bastion of humanity amid an incinerated sea of fire, the sounds of rapid footsteps can easily be heard since Olga reinforced her legs to running speeds faster than a car on a freeway.
Fortunately, the Director didn't see any of her subordinates as she finally reached the Command Room.
The door slid open, revealing Olga breathing somewhat heavily, as though she had just run a city block.
Doctor Romani and Da Vinci turned around. The former looked sheepish while the latter looked satisfied.
"I thought…" As she marched up to the duo, Olga began, "I thought I had set an alarm for six in the morning, but now it's half an hour to noon!"
"Did you enjoy that sleep?" Da Vinci asked.
"Did I enjoy that sleep? Did I enjoy that sleep?!"
…Did she enjoy that sleep? Olga admitted privately that she did feel far more refreshed after waking up, but she can't just admit that to Da Vinci! That would destroy her image of a 'strict Director' to everyone!
"That's not the point!" Olga chose deflection, "I set that alarm for a reason. It's so I could wake up and be in the office first, always."
Da Vinci had a sad smile on her face, the Servant's eyes drooping as to pity the Director. Olga's face twisted into a rage at the expression. She doesn't need pity! She doesn't!
Olga stared intensely at Da Vinci. The Servant doesn't seem to even recognize the intimidation attempt and brushes it off as if it were some lint on clothing.
"Tch! Where's my coffee, Romani?" Olga asked as she sat down on the 'boss chair'.
"Right here, Director Olga!"
The good Doctor hurried forward, almost spilling the coffee before he got ahold of himself. Taking it, Olga took a sip before glancing at the information presented in front of her. A map depicting an ocean.
The next Singularity was something that encompassed the entirety of the Caribbean. Larger than the French one, yet much smaller than the Roman Singularity. Thankfully. The time it took for Nero to march the mighty Roman Army to Constantinople took months.
"I assume the Commoner has been debriefed on basic water safety yes? Such as swimming training?" Olga asked as she took another sip. Hmm, good coffee. As the black liquid flowed down her throat, the Director could feel her energy level rising.
"Yes, he has. Trained by Iskander himself in fact." Romani replied.
Olga took in a deep breath before letting it out. Thank God, because, in her own recollection, she didn't include 'water training' among the mandatory training the Commoner had to undergo.
"I must ask though, Director." Romani started, prompting Olga to give him a sideways glance, "Why are we not using the Goddess' power or that of her little sister to heal those injured?"
Little sister…? Oh, that blonde girl who the Goddess insists is an adoptive sister even when from an outside perspective, their relationship appears closer to that of mother-daughter. Brief flashes of jealousy flared in Olga's chest at their strong bonds.
"We can't trust her. She's an outside element."
"Is she truly? I mean, from all we've seen of the Goddess she's proven immensely helpful. Based on the Saint Graph reading of Longinus, he alone would've been enough to slaughter the Roman Army and kill Emperor Nero."
"I know what I am doing, Doctor Romani. You don't have to remind me of that." Olga said in an exhausting tone, "But once more, we don't know her. Kukulkan claims to be a Goddess yet she possesses not a single shred of divinity. Her sister is a Holy Grail in human form. We are all that's left of humanity. If there's so much as a one percent chance of Kukulkan turning on us, we have to take that as a certainty."
To be frank, Olga would've almost been happy to allow the Goddess to heal those Masters. But there's just this tiny voice deriving itself from Olga's experience in the Moonlit World inside her mind that's doubting Kukulkan's intention.
It just sounds too good to be true. In the Moonlit World, there are always hidden costs to everything. If a contract sounds too good to be true, then it definitely is. This was one of the few rules her father, Marisbury, made sure to drill into the young Olga.
"Besides, she's not part of the FATE System. Ritsuka can't control her like he could with Archer or Rider."
Romani appeared frustrated, before backing down to stew in his frustration.
It was almost time.
Olga switched the tab from the map to a live stream of CHALDEAS. She found the Commoner and Mash talking with the King of Conquerors. The Goddess was hovering in a sitting position, with the kid sitting on her lap. Archer stood near the edge of the group waiting for when it was time to properly Rayshift.
Which is in minutes. The calibration was almost done.
Cracking her neck to release tensions built up from the thought of having to interact with the Goddess once more, Olga grabbed her coffee and drank it down in one sip.
Da Vinci neared Olga, a long stick in hand. The Director took it before getting up from her seat and left the command room that overlooked CHALDEAS.
Right before she walked through the door, Olga turned around and said to the whole staff in a loud voice, "Alright people, ready the Rayshifts as soon as possible."
"Please give this to the Goddess. It's a new and improved earpiece that should survive her powers."
"Right." Olga plucked the earpiece out of Da Vinci's hands.
As soon as Olga got out of view and was alone, the woman leaned upon a wall as though she was an exhausted animal about to collapse. Even though the extra sleep was nourishing, it wasn't enough to pry out the deep-rooted wariness coming from chronic overwork.
Pushing herself off the wall and forcing those screaming muscles to work again, Olga tripped as one of her legs lagged behind the other.
"Hup!"
She would've fallen if it weren't for Reinforcement magecraft. The woman strengthened her muscles, causing her arms to move at superhuman speed so that she could catch herself before she crashed onto the floor.
Director Olga pushed on, reaching the closed door that led into the chamber that held CHALDEAS.
Like a prisoner about to be hung over the gallows, Olga took in a deep breath and entered.
Immediately she was hit face-first with the sound of laughter. The Commoner alongside the sister of the Goddess was chuckling at a joke that Iskander told. The Commoner looked different than he usually did, mostly because he wore a mystic code designed to help him survive in the ocean.
The Goddess was the first person to have noticed Olga. Archer followed next, then Iskander and the rest.
The laughter died down, making way for Olga to take the center of attention.
"I assume you all have read the files concerning the next Singularity last night?" Olga started with the basics, as one should when doing a final debriefing.
"Yes, we have, Director Olga." The Commoner said eagerly. Passion practically gushed forth like excess water dumped into a cup, "It's a sea-based Singularity around the Caribbean, set during 1573."
Thinking of the Caribbeans, Olga was momentarily lost in the memory of that time she relaxed on a beach, away from the expectations placed upon her by her father, Marisbury. In contrast, the Goddess turned her head away slightly as though she had smelled something awful.
Quickly pulling herself out of that pool of pleasant memories, Olga cleared her throat, "Ahem. Yes, you're right about that. However, we think the main point of this Singularity centers on Sir Francis Drake, the first Englishman who circumnavigated the world. After all, 1573 fits nicely within the period of Drake's first circumnavigation attempt."
Everyone nodded, before Iskander asked, "Given how this is a sea, how are we supposed to travel around if we possess no watercraft?"
"You can thank Da Vinci for that." Olga raised her hand that held the stick, drawing everyone's attention.
The stick wasn't anything particularly noteworthy. It was a dull gold in color and smooth all over.
"This is a portable watercraft." Olga's thumb then reached over the tip of one end, "Press here, and the watercraft would pop out and automatically inflate itself."
"And how are we supposed to propel it?" Iskander asked with one eye raised.
Olga was a bit annoyed and stared unflinchingly at the King of Conquerors, "I was getting to that."
She turned to the rest of the ground.
"If you want maximum speed, the Goddess can push this watercraft—"
"You expect a Goddess to push a watercraft?" Iskander suddenly asked, his tone easily betraying his curiosity.
"I don't mind."
That appeared to have surprised Iskander greatly. The Servant turned his whole body to face Kukulkan. There was a look of incomprehension on his face.
Olga continued on, "If the Goddess isn't available to push this watercraft, there's a built-in sail. If there's no wind, Fujimaru's mystic code has pre-installed wind magecraft."
"As befitting of the Director of Chaldea! You've thought about nearly everything!"
"Nearly?"
Iskander nodded, "Yes, the question now comes to food. Given how we're in the middle of the ocean instead of land, acquiring food and drinkable water is very much an issue. Every sailor knows drinking seawater will bring a man to madness."
"There's a filter. He has a tube filter that catches all the dissolved salt and microbes, allowing him to drink directly from the ocean. As for food, there's ration bars stored in Mash's shield."
Iskander hummed to himself.
Then, an announcement played on the PA system.
"Rayshift Calibration complete. All necessary steps for Rayshifting into the Third Singularity are finished. Immediate Rayshift— available."
Several Rayshifting Coffins arose from the ground. Olga handed the Commoner the stick mystic code.
"Good luck, last Master of Mankind."
"Thank you, Director."
Ritsuka took the stick. It wasn't heavy at all, weighing about as much as your usual cup filled with water.
Olga then handed the Goddess the earpiece. After that, the Director backed away as everyone entered their coffin. While everyone had no issue, the Goddess still seemed particularly reluctant to enter such an enclosed space.
She must have some phobia of enclosed spaces, Ritsuka concluded as the lid slid over the coffin and liquid started filling the insides.
"Starting unsummoning program. Beginning Spiritron conversion… Rayshifting… now."
What happened next was a blurry pattern of various colors that closely resembled a kaleidoscope. Various colors that he couldn't perceive normally made their presence known before the teen found himself traversing through the center of that kaleidoscope.
The feeling of wind rushing by like cars on a highway was the first thing he noticed.
He was…
Ritsuka looked around himself at all the fluffy white clouds that looked like cotton nearby, the blueness that filled the intersecting spaces between those clouds, and finally, the vast ocean that served as his ultimate destination.
Unlike all previous Rayshifts, he was falling from a great height.
"Huh?!"
_______
AN: I like the idea there is a cost to everything. What may seem like free powers comes with hidden drawbacks like losing your old self.
In this chapter, we get Olga's perspective.
Your comments gives me motivation. I need a lot of motivation.