"I ask of you, are you my master?"
The figure's voice caused a tingling sensation to course through Ritsuka like that of a silver bell, clear and concise like distilled water.
For a moment, Ritsuka was mesmerized by the woman. There was just something about her that made it hard to pay attention to anything else. Was it how her face showed signs of naivety compared to the armor she clad herself in?
The silence dragged on as the figure waited for an answer.
"Ritsuka."
Hearing Kuku call out his name caused Ritsuka to snap out of his stupor. Blinking several times, Ritsuka was then aware of how he had been staring at the newly summoned Servant as though he were in a trance.
"Right. Sorry. Yes, I am your Master," Ritsuka hurriedly said, clearing his throat, "So what's your name?"
The woman looked around at the other Servants carefully, an edge in her gaze as she tried to figure out if the others were a threat. Her eyes widened as they stopped on Mash.
She closed her eyes, her armor plates clinked as the Servant brought a hand up to her chest.
"I am Artoria Pendragon, a Servant of the Saber class."
When she finished her introduction, Artoria opened her emerald green eyes that seemed to pierce Ritsuka's soul like a sword through paper. Her armor clinked again as her hands fell down to her waist.
"Pendragon?" Ritsuka said in a questioning tone, "As in, Arthur Pendragon?"
"That is the name I chose during my time alive. When I had to disguise myself as a man to rule Britain as women weren't seen as fit for kingship."
Ritsuka thought back to Emperor Nero and Captain Drake, both women who history had recorded as male, yet did their jobs wonderfully as female. He briefly wondered if it was truly an issue.
"Little girl…" Iskander spoke up as he stepped forward. The giant of a man easily towered over Artoria to such a degree that the woman appeared like a toddler beside him. Artoria met the King of Conqueror's stare with one of her own.
Neither was flinching as this staring contest continued. Neither backed down from this challenge.
Ritsuka wondered what silent words were being passed between the two as they continued locking their gazes. It was obvious that each warrior was measuring the other like hunters sizing up formidable prey.
Here stood legends—individuals on whom the myths were based, those who accomplished deeds so great they're remembered even millenniums after their deaths.
Ritsuka felt unworthy. He felt overwhelmed as he stood next to these heroes. Compared to them, he was nothing. A mere particle of dirt is indistinguishable from the uncountable others that made up the foundation of one of these Heroic Spirit's kingdoms.
How could he call himself the Master of these extraordinary beings? These existences who surpassed him in every measurable way? It'll be like having a child in control of a household's finances.
Why… is he here then?
"You're not a little girl anymore," Iskander said, smiling widely. He leaned back and bellowed out a hearty laugh, "You've grown. Have you decided to fight for something more worthwhile than the thorny path of a martyr?"
Artoria smiled, completely confident in herself. "My path is no folly, nor my way of rule a blunder. Aye, I was a king most worthy for Britain. Should fate grant me leave to tread my reign anew, I would walk the selfsame course, unshackled by any doubt."
"You know, the offer to join my army is still up. You can govern Britain when I inevitably conquer the world."
"Never." Artoria spat out those words like they were poison.
Iskander brushed off this rejection like lint. It was as though Artoria's rejection was inconsequential in the face of his boundless ambitions, as though she would eventually agree to join his army.
"Ever the martyr. Perhaps you and this self-proclaimed Goddess here can bond over that."
Artoria's gaze turned to the one Iskander gestured towards. Hearing of a 'self-proclaimed Goddess' caused Artoria to think of Celtic cults prevalent in Scotland during her rule, where the scions of druids who survived Rome's purge were worshipped as Gods by a local village.
Artoria raised an eyebrow in curiosity. She looked at the woman up and down, taking her measure. She didn't appear too threatening, but then again, one wouldn't imagine Merlin to be very threatening from his appearance either.
Artoria reached out for a handshake.
"Greetings. I am Artoria Pendragon."
The self-proclaimed Goddess accepted it, "I am Kukulkan."
"May I ask what are you a Goddess of?"
Kukulkan hesitated momentarily as if no one had ever asked her this question: "I am a Goddess of many things. My Divine Authority is being able to borrow the Divine Authorities of all Feathered Serpent deities. It grants me a wide range of versatility."
"Well met." Artoria's eyes then turned to Archer. As their two gazes connected, something unspoken occurred between them, something none in the room knew about.
Archer then groaned, "What a troublesome glutton, I'll get the food ready," he left for the exit.
"Hunger is the foe, Archer. Thus, it is best to eat as much as possible in case I no longer have access to food." Artoria coolly said while Ritsuka found an awkward smile spreading on his face.
Having marched with Nero's army during the Roman Singularity, Ritsuka knew that food was important. The saying 'an army marches on its stomach' was repeatedly proven when the excessive supplies Nero brought were used up in less than two weeks.
The very land itself was stripped bare to feed Rome's men. It forced the army to march ever more without stopping lest starvation set in. It reminds Ritsuka of locusts, innumerable locusts forming into swarms that devour whole regions bare.
_______
Ritsuka's jaws dropped at the sight before him. His feet rooted to the ground as the impossible sight unfolded before his eyes. His gaze turned to the tall pillars around Artoria. Each had at least a dozen plates stacked on top of the other. All were plates that were used to present food; Artoria devoured all the food.
The bowl right in front of her clinked like a bell as Artoria dropped her chopsticks into it. The King of Knights leaned back with an immensely satisfied look on her face, being more at peace than she ever did ever since the summoning.
Ritsuka then reflected on Artoria's ability to use chopsticks. It was completely in contrast to Kuku since Artoria masterfully picked up pieces of sauced meat without any issues as if she had been using chopsticks all her life.
"Woah."
Ritsuka turned to glance at the source of the voice, finding Zvezdnyy next to her Polkovodets. The girl was peeking over Kuku like she was some kind of cover.
"Ah, so you are the one who has pierced the veil of eternity to answer the call of destiny—a newly summoned Servant, bound by the threads of fate to stand before me!"
Artoria faced Zvezdnyy, someone who wasn't there a moment ago. Unlike Ritsuka who would've been shocked at the casual teleportation, Artoria was entirely unfazed as if this was an everyday occurrence for her.
"Yes, I am. And who are you?"
A grin appeared on the girl's face. She walked out from behind Kuku. Confidence filled every pore of Zvezdnyy's body like water as she puffed out her chest and became the embodiment of pride: "I am the Zvezdnyy Rebenok, the Starborn Witch ordained by the cosmic decree to be humanity's savior! Kneel before my radiant banner and pledge your allegiance, for together, we shall rally the celestial legions and obliterate the abyssal forces threatening the very fabric of Creation!"
"Alas, I cannot, for I am a king myself. To take up arms beneath another's banner would stain my honor with unendurable shame." Artoria replied.
It caused Ritsuka to blink several times since unlike Iskander, she had no issues deciphering Zvezdnyy's Chunni language.
Zvezdnyy wilted, her gaze turned to Kuku, "My dear Polkovodets, why does the wheel of fate turn so slowly in our favor? Despite all of my power, only one soul has been drawn to my banner since I descended upon this realm! Must even destiny itself test my resolve?"
Kuku only smiled gently at Zvezdnyy's troubles. Her hands reached out and placed themselves on Zvezdnyy's head. Zvezdnyy seemed satisfied with this motion.
Archer came out of the kitchen with more dishes in his hands. The smell and style of the food made Ritsuka think of Middle Eastern food—something foreign.
What can't Archer cook? Ritsuka wondered. He followed Archer into the kitchen as Artoria devoured the newly placed dish. Right before he exited the periphery of the cafeteria, the teen heard commotion between Zvezdnyy and Artoria, something about the girl wanting to try the new food but Artoria not letting her.
"Archer." Ritsuka called out, "What… region's food can't you make?"
The Servant was currently compiling all kinds of colorful ingredients atop a flatbread. There were grilled chicken breasts, rice, black beans, lettuce, plentiful sauce, corn, onions, chives, and cheese.
"As far as I know, only alien food." Archer flatly stated. The Servant then started using the flatbread's edges as a mixer tool, homogenizing the ingredients into a blend.
Ritsuka chuckled at the joke.
"I'm serious. I've traveled across the world so I know how to cook every region's dish. Only alien foods elude me."
Ritsuka blankly stared at Archer, wondering if the normally no-nonsense Servant was joking or not.
The Servant responded by starting to wrap the ingredients in the flatbread. He placed the wrap on a hot pan.
"What are you making?" Ritsuka asked as Archer moved the wrap so another section could touch the pan.
"Burritos."
Burritos? Ritsuka's never heard of burritos, but the thing that Archer made right in front of him caused the teen to think of those wraps you'd find in Seven Eleven. But those wraps are made of hot dog sausages, ham, and rice. Never what Archer had put in.
Archer then removed the 'burrito' from the pan and placed it onto a plate nearby.
"That one's for you. I can tell you've never tried a burrito before, so try it." The Servant said as he turned around and returned to making more 'burritos'.
Seeing how it was indeed made for him, Ritsuka shrugged and grabbed a pair of chopsticks from nearby. There, he tried to grab the 'burrito' with his chopsticks as one might with a riceball—
"..."
Only to fail as the burrito was too heavy and wide for Ritsuka to lift using the chopstick.
"You're supposed to eat it with your hand. Not chopsticks." Archer said from across the room.
Ritsuka's lips thinned in embarrassment. He silently placed the chopsticks to the side and grabbed the wrap with his hands. It… wasn't very hot considering it's just touched a hot pan.
The burrito neared Ritsuka's open mouth, and his teeth bit through the flatbread and into the ingredients within.
"—!"
Ritsuka's eyes widened at the number of flavors jumping all across his tongue. The flavorless, unassuming shell had concealed a treasure trove of tastes within; it completely caught Ritsuka off guard. There are so many flavors! So many brand-new sensations. There was the chicken and rice texture, marinated with spiciness and creamy cheese. Tangy hues and crisp lettuce added a refreshing aftertaste.
So many things blended into a harmony of flavors—absolutely irresistible. Ritsuka ignored the various juices running down his fingers.
"Yeah, I had that same reaction when I first ate a burrito," Archer said, "It was out when I was in foreign lands. When I was in a city on the other side of the world, being a hero of justice."
Archer finished putting the ingredients onto a new flatbread. Ritsuka took another bite, eagerly devouring an eighth of the burrito in one go. This wasn't a simple meal; it was a revelation.
"I once imagined riceballs would be the most efficient source of food. Now I know it's that burrito. You can customize it so three burritos would fulfill all your daily nutritional needs."
Ritsuka paused as by now, over half of the burrito were gone.
"Archer… could you tell me your name now?"
Archer ceased mixing the ingredients. Without turning around, he asked, "That Goddess didn't tell you?"
"No. She didn't say anything. All I know is that you two had some conflict but that seems to be resolved after Rome."
The Servant stared up at the ceiling. At the lights above his workstation. Was he looking wistfully, like someone missing what had been? Or was he glaring, like someone who's haunted by his past?
"I am a Counter Guardian. In life, I used to be a Hero of Justice. I went around the world, saving as many people as I could with my hands. In death, I wished to further Justice, so I made a contract with the world. I am EMIYA. Just EMIYA."
"A Japanese name…" Ritsuka trailed off, "Is that your first or last name?"
"It doesn't matter anymore." Archer— EMIYA spoke heavy with solemnity. To Ritsuka, it felt like hearing the resignation of someone faced with an inescapable fate, a soul who had relinquished the will to resist. Every word he spoke echoed with finality, "I am EMIYA. Only EMIYA now."
"..."
Ritsuka wanted to argue. To him, names were integral to a person. As important as a person's face or voice, names are fundamental, something humans use to differentiate one from another. To abandon one's name was tantamount to abandoning one's past, refusing one's history. Erasing the cause (past) resulted in the effect (present) that will lead to the future (future).
But then Ritsuka recalled Kuku's philosophy. No judgment. No hatred. Only pity. Empathize with their history. Understand them. And… opposition…
So he bit back his judgment and accepted Archer's decision.
"I see… EMIYA. I hope that one day, you can tell me your full name."