A/N: Before you lose your minds, they will reunite.
A searing ember ignites beneath my ribs like a parasitic inferno gnawing its way through flesh and bone.
I jolt awake with a gasp, shoving the weight from my chest and clawing at my eyes as the stench of death—a fetid cocktail of decay and burnt flesh—assaults my nostrils.
"You play rough, don't you?"
"Wha- Who are you? Where am I?" I turn, searching for the familiar geometry of my room, but reality itself seems to warp and shimmer—a fever dream that seems to be a gust away from dissolution. "Angra Mainyu…"
The name leaves my lips in a dying exhalation.
I look up to find 'Irisviel' sprawled on the floor, her limbs contorted at angles that makes her look like a fucking spider instead.
"How the Hell did you crawl into my dreamscape?"
The Unbirthed God is tethered to the Old District, imprisoned until the Grail manifests and a specific wish is granted.
Why is it here again?
I've not gone near the place since that first time.
"Surprised?!"
It sings, waist rotating in a way that simply doesn't make sense. The only way it could touch me, haunt me is by leaving a 'Taint' on my person… I haven't ventured anywhere near the Old District since that day a year ago, the day I nearly got got, which begs the question: How is it here? "Oh, fuck me sideways…"
"All you gotta do was ask, Leo-tan!"
Fingers digging into my temples, a groan escapes my lips as the Daemon rolls around on the floor beside me, writhing like a puppet with its strings cut—pinned against the floor by an unseen force. "Enough with the theatrics," I growl. "What did that priest do to me?"
Summoned by my thoughts, the Daemon slithers onto my lap like a cat, its inhuman beauty marred by those vacant, red eyes. "He offered you a most exquisite gift—the ultimate sacrifice." Its hand crawls up my torso, fingers trailing a searing path from my stomach to my chest, stopping just above my heart as I seize its wrist, the air crackling with my threatening growls.
"You want a repeat of last time?"
With a twisted, masochistic grin, the Daemon gently guides my hands to encircle its neck, its voice dripping with an unsettling innocence that sharply contrasts with the manic gleam in the depth of its eyes.
"Oh, honey, please do! Kiri rarely ever touched me like this—"
Its neck snaps with a sickening crunch, which should have ended the nightmare, yet the Daemon seems as nonchalant as ever, if not to say eager. Cold fingers ghosting through my hair, the World's Evils winks smugly. "See you later, alligator."
With a final rasp, Angra Mainyu dissolves into a swirling cloud of Ether, the wretched smile still clinging to its lips like a venomous afterthought.
"See you never."
I respond, throwing the corpse off of me while the dreamscape collapses all around us.
A jolt shoots me upright, heart hammering against my ribs. Two wide, worried eyes stares into mine, causing me to flinch, nearly taking out Gil's front teeth as she huddles close. "My fucking Gods! Don't scare me like that!"
"You're finally awa—"
"That meme's overused."
I snort, pushing myself up and instinctively patting down my torso in search of injuries. A sigh of relief escaped me as I found none, but a flicker of unease remains. Where the Hell is the priest?
And why is everything… Dimmer?
"The potion of health mended most of the damage."
Gil starts, her gruff voice ready to answer all my unspoken doubts, "But there are things even miracles can't mend. Your left eye... It's gone."
"WHAT?!"
Scrambling to my feet, hands flying to my face, a frantic search for any reflective surface that'll show me what's been done to me.
"Don't worry," Gil softly reassures, offering me a mirror made of gold, "Chicks dig scars…"
"Who fucking cares?!" I erupt, my voice climbing an octave with each word. "How am I supposed to continue my acting career looking like… Like…"
The words lodge in my throat—gripped by the neck by a caveman surge of frustration.
The worst part is that this is an unmistakable feature.
I wouldn't mind a scar on the back, but the disfigurement being in such a spot will put me under much more scrutiny than ever before.
What on Earth am I supposed to tell the press?
All the shows I'm starring in are PG shit too! My new appearance won't cut it, and given how brutal and ironclad my contracts are, the amount of money I'll have to shell out to my employers could leave me bankrupt.
I won't be in debt thanks to my external assets, but it's still a damn nightmare.
"Fuck!" I scream, yanking at my hair as my right eye frantically scans the room for the priest. "Where is he? Where's that fucking bastard?!"
It could just be my imagination, but I swear for a split second, a flash of sadness crossed her face before it's replaced by an approving smile. "Look for yourself."
Stepping aside, Gil gestures towards the corpse lying a few feet away from where she stands.
Facing the church ceiling—decorated with old, dusty renditions of Renaissance paintings—Kirei wears a self-satisfied smile, as if his lifelong wish had finally been granted. Limping over to the priest, I loom over his corpse.
I think I'd remember ripping his heart out, no matter how angry I was.
"He did it himself… Ripped out the Cursed Heart and transferred it to you while you were unconscious."
"And you didn't stop him?!"
"He wanted to do it. Who was I to stop him?"
Jaws tensing, I grind my teeth to the point I fear they may crack. "What bullshit is that?! You're the Queen of Heroes—the first ruler! If anyone could have stopped him, it'd be you!"
For better or worse, we've all known each other for over a year—we've lived and dined and gotten wasted together…
Did any of it mean anything to her?
Crossing her arms; a surprisingly defensive look gracing her face, Gil growls. "Watch your tongue, mongrel!"
I like to think I can be pretty cold-hearted myself, especially when the situation demands it, but hers I simply cannot fathom.
"No," Gilgamesh shakes her head. "He'd have survived at best. There's a difference."
Kirei needed to die—he was too dangerous, a wild card whose every moment above ground equals another moment to scheme against me.
I get that, and yet…
[Reinforcement] quickly snaps into place to control the influx of emotions.
"Control the tool, Leonis, do not let it collar you." It takes me a few moments to realize what she's referring to, but if it works, it works.
"I'm perfectly in control—more than I have ever been…" In both lives, may I add. "Is one just purely logic or emotion, Leonis? Or are we the sum of both?"
"I'm not in the mood for a philosophical discussion, Your Majesty." It's a worthless endeavor—to wax poetic on the unknown and the indescribable. What good will that bring anyone? What good will it bring me? "Why didn't he kill me?"
I comment, crouching next to the body, my facial features relaxing as I close the man's unblinking eyes.
The Golden Queen stares at me intently before letting out an exasperated humph. "You'll be spectacular—make that how you will."
My fingers briefly tighten as confusion sets in. "And why do you think I need to hear this? What relevance do the words of a dead man have?"
Snorting, her voice dripping with disbelief, she spins on her heels and strides away. "Talk to me when you're whole."
As soon as she's out of sight, I mutter to myself. "Strange creature she is."
Oh well, it's none of my concern.
"Now, how to handle this…" To ensure the priest isn't just pretending, I prod his arm with my foot. Once I'm certain he's truly dead, I haul his body to the forest in the back.
Initially, I considered leaving him for the wild animals, but I quickly dismissed the idea.
Now, his grave graces a hill, where each dawn will greet him with the Sun's warmth.
Knowing the priest, he'll probably abhor it.
As he ought to feel for the rest of eternity, given what he did.
By the time I return to the Church, Kiritsugu's there already, checking out the dry blood.
"Leo, your eye—"
"It's an easy fix." Now that those pesky, irrational emotions are no longer in the way, I can think clearly. "The Einzbern specializes in Artificial Life, John can figure something out."
"Where is—"
"Dead,"
I clip, my voice sharp as I shoulder past him. "Did you happen to see Rin and Shiro on your journey here?"
"I spotted them, yes. They're a bit bruised up, but are on their way home now."
Pausing, Kiritsugu shifts on his feet—awkward as ever, "How did he die?"
"With his heart ripped from chest." Comes my reply.
A grotesque parody of a smile twists Kiritsugu's lips—an almost feral expression utterly alien to his face.
"Good. A fitting end for that monster."
The next morning, I find myself at the Emiya Residence, eager to clear the air.
It turns out that during their little game of hide-and-seek, Kotomine Kirei let slip that he had murdered the late Tokiomi. Even worse, he exposed the fact that I had known and kept this from her, which is why we are no longer on speaking terms, and probably won't be for the foreseeable future.
Given the circumstances, I can't in good conscience subject Shiro and Taiga to this mess, so I choose to stay away as well.
And so, that's that.
No funeral rites, no mourners to grieve. The man might as well have vanished into thin air, his absence acknowledged only by Gilgamesh and I.
A month into our ongoing 'cold war,' craving the serenity of the forest to escape the claustrophobic confines of my Workshop fortress, I find myself near the priest's final resting place. There, I spot something near his grave—an entire swarm of writhing somethings burrowing into the soil, in fact.
'Zouken.'
Without hesitation, Senza Esitazione materializes in my hands, thrusting through the grotesque mass slowly taking on a humanoid shape behind me.
"Quite rude of you, young Magnus."
"Lord Matou…" The Worm had scarcely crossed my mind lately, truth be told.
Very few things had, ever since Tohsaka's explosive outburst.
What can I say?
I did do her dirty trying to rehabilitate Kirei into a vaguely decent human being.
"You know of me…"
The entity states, its voice a churning rasp of clicking mandibles—each word coming out of it feeling like having a toothpick being inserted in my eardrums.
Finally, the ancient horror regains his 'human qualities', even if it only goes skin deep.
"Yes. Why are you here?" I twirl my spear, tilting my head.
"To acquire the Overseer's Command Seals. Why else?"
"And you think I'll allow that, why?"
Question flat, devoid of the disgust simmering beneath the surface, I take a step forwards to assert myself.
It smells of bitter medicines; trash and
"Because I'm holding Lady Tohsaka and my granddaughter hostage?"
A beat of silence passes as we observe each other.
"And you think I care, why? They were tools, nothing more."
"And yet, you were prepared to sacrifice yourself for the red-headed child." Zouken's hand, a writhing mass of insects and dirt, congregates to form a grotesquely warped walking stick, and then it regards me with amusement. "Maybe you care more than you want to admit. Maybe this is merely a bluff."
"Or maybe my objective just hasn't been fulfilled."
I counter… Perhaps a bit too hurried—real rookie mistake, especially for an actor.
I can only hope it didn't notice the slip-up earlier.
"Be that as it may, you do care, even if only to the extent a business man would about one of his projects. There are disposable investments, then there are life-changing ones—I'm betting they're the latter."
Putting on a smile, its rotted and decaying teeth reeking like an old public urinal, Zouken steps up.
"If the new Overseer—"
"You live in the Church territory, that's your problem to deal with, not mine."
My lips twitch in annoyance. "And if I don't?"
"Then you will still be the first suspect, what does it have to do with me? I'm just a weak, feeble old man trying to give the best care and education for his grandchildren who tragically lost their parents at a young age."
Its Speech must be at a 100 because for a moment there I can actually picture the scene. 'Fucking Palpatine-looking ass.'
"I've played this game for centuries, young Magnus."
"You're delusional if you think they'll buy that excuse."
"I managed to trick Risei, did I not?"
"You cowered before him, lurked in the shadows like a coward."
"Did I? Or did I spare his life?"
Its smirk widens, the skin and muscles around its mouth splitting apart like an alien from 'the Thing'. "Whatever it may be, you're not in the position to negotiate here… Either let me take the Seals peacefully, or make an enemy out of me." The forest trembles with the shrill cries of wild animals and the clicking of mandibles that seem to be closing in on us at a rapid pace.
The sounds are everywhere…
From the trees above; to wet soils underneath.
"Choose wisely, Magnus. I'm only giving you a choice because of a small favor you did for me in the past, but if you continue to insist—"
Millions worms all screech, drowing out the song of the wilderness.
The day of its end will come, sooner or later, but a wiseman must know when to give up.
Giving the priest's grave one last glance, I pivot on my heels and depart from the clearing.
Kirei will just have to forgive me.
'What a shitty month.'
Thankfully, the day after is a bit more bearable with 'Mimir's Eye'—a Mystic Code designed to do everything my left eye could and more.
Not only is the eye biocompatible; it also has image stabilizer installed as a function; plus real dark vision; 'Mysteries Detection' and an Enchantment to camouflage itself.
The only real tell is the tiny flecks of gold that now dances in my iris, which is still quite noticeable, but a lot easier to explain than going to work with an empty eye socket… There are people whose eye color changes as they age.
I can just play the part, 'Or…'
Humming, I grin at the bright idea my brain just supplies me with.
The Gods are bright and flashy—I can try to attribute the change to them, boost my public image and really lean into the 'young savior' façade. With my new eye installed, I instantly call my manager to give her the news.
She takes it as well as she possibly can, already nourishing the same thoughts as I do and in no time, I make the news again. Photos of me near the set of my next movie suddenly get 'leaked', and though a few are dissatisfied about the change in appearance, most of my fans seem rather accepting overall.
For the next two months, I spend most of my time on set or in my Workshop.
Work's going well—almost everything is besides my wilting social life and… "Whatchu' doin'?"
"Beat it."
Next to me, Angra Mainyu sits, kicking his legs like a kid.
To be fair, he's wearing the guise of a child—one who died to the Great Fire.
"You're so rude!"
"And you're a hassle."
I really, really dislike it when I'm trying to concentrate on work and somebody keeps bugging me constantly. The fact it's the embryo of an Evil God and an ancient Demon may've factored in the equation as well.
It pouts, reaching for the board containing my new Spell.
Whoever created and built on Nasu Magic System needs a spanking, 'cause they be making everything extra for no fucking reason.
How the Magi's shit-flinging ancestors managed to reverse-engineer Spells and Miracles taught and made by the Phantasmal, I have no idea. Spell-Crafting is fucking hard. There's very little I can do without the Tohsaka library to rely on, and John's still picking up the pieces back in Castle Einzbern.
Apparently their ancestral library caved in on itself, and due to the Bounded Fields protecting it, he cannot gain access until they figure out a way to bypass the protections put in place by Jubstacheit.
Even in death the bastard's making things difficult. Left with no other option, I can only turn my sight on the Clock Tower, for there's nothing left for me in Fuyuki, no one except Gilgamesh, and there's scarce a day when she isn't drunk or passing time with modern joys…
The Queen of Heroes is rather taken with games.
At this rate I fear the Fuyuki Church will be turned into an arcade by the time I return.
"So when are we leaving?"
"What do you mean 'we'? There is no 'we' here. I'll go to the Clock Tower, while you stay here scaring children and dogs or whatever it is you do to pass the time."
I respond, a little too triggered for my own taste, but in my defenses he's been asking me about so many times I can't keep track of the number—nonstop, 24/7. Imagine being on a car ride with a kid who keeps asking 'Are we there yet?', but for a whole month straight. If I could touch him, I'd bash his face in with a bat, but since the Daemon's not really there, but an image projected into my mind by the 'Cursed Heart' Kirei transferred to me, I'm helpless too.
* DING!
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
The notification stops me just as I'm about to lay it into him, 'Saved by the bells, huh?'
I have enough to spend on one more Perk before leaving for Tower, and the Heat Meter has just reset.
Opening the [ToI], I glance at all the Branches—two new had sprouted while I wasn't looking: [Vāna Glōria] and [Evil], but my attention's drawn to the [Ruler]. I never liked Kingdom Building as a genre before because the process was always glossed over by the authors, though given the direction I'm heading towards, it's inevitable.
Furthermore, most Perks I've gotten thus far have been mainly combat-focused,
Maybe it's time to broaden my tool-kit.
[Whispering Winds]
> There are more the winds can do than tickle your balls while you're pissing down a cliff just for the heck of it. The wind shall now serve you, as all should their proper ruler!
> Effects:
>> A toggle passive that allow the winds to carry information that may or may not be of any use to you.
It only costs 3AP for an overpowered 'Spidey Sense'.
It probably won't work on planets or world without an atmosphere, but if I get thrown on one, I'll probably die of suffocation anyway, so it doesn't really matter at the end of the day.
'I want it… I want it! I want it!'
Swallowing my Greed, I jump as [Avaritia] forms.
Unlike the tutorial, the Opening Perks do not affect the Heat Meter, hence why I immediately purchase it.
Unfortunately, [Opulent Aura] isn't a Perk I have much needs of at the moment despite being free thanks to my affinity for the Branch.
In SCP language, it's a memetic Perk that inflates the perceived value of my products.
Anything I or an organization related to me produces will be seen as better simply because, kinda like 2020's Iphone, but it doesn't actually improve its functionality.
Hell, it doesn't even guarantee I'll get a better price, since the business world can be rather cutthroat.
There's reason why that show was called 'Shark Tank' and not 'Sheep Tank'.
After scrolling through the list of Perks, I finally settle on [Void].
I've seen the Perk it offers, but haven't the strength nor confidence to pick it before.
'I should be strong enough now.'
[Void Bridge]
> All's within the Void… All's connected.
> Effects:
>> Open a gate from your location to an Universe you know. Time there moves twice as fast the Universe you're in. Once established, this Bridge's destination is fixed and cannot be altered.
>> Reusable for 3AP, reuse does not affect Heat Meter.
It's a gamble—a dangerous one given all the fucked-up fictional Universes I know of.
I'm decently strong, though not quite at the level of carefree Multiversal Traveler.
Still, if I just get lucky once…
The real question is: Do I dare take the risk?
My mind's telling me 'No!'
But my body…
My body's telling me 'Yes'!
'Fuck it.' Worst case scenario, I'll take the trip back if the Universe's too much for me.
Guess [Whispering Winds] and the other Perks will have to wait for their turns…
The moment I acquire [Void Bridge], the whispers of Nothingness reach out—thousands of intangible hands grabbing at me, causing no physical harm but instilling an emptiness far worse than the numbness of [Reinforcement] does when I use it on myself.
At least with [Reinforcement], rationality remains.
This, however, feels as though my Soul is being purged of all sentience.
> Establishing Connection…
Reality itself rends apart while the [ToI] selects the Universe from my memory.
'Don't let it be Warhammer. Don't let it be Warhammer. Don't let it be—'
> Connecting…
> Connecting…
> World Chosen: Witcher
I breath a sigh of relief.
It could've been worse—much, much worse.
> Jump Initiated in 3… 2…
'Witcher Trials, wait for me, daddy's comin to get yo—'
> 1…
And then I'm pulled inside, stretched and pulled thin like a spaghetto.
Yes, a single strand of spaghetti is called spaghetto!
The more you know.
A/N: In case you guys didn't catch on, the small favor Zouken mentioned was cleaning up Justeaze's grave.