"The thing is, I know you're playing me?" said Lancer, carving away the swampy vines with the tip of her spear. "But the problem is you're also being completely honest with me. I can't work out the angle."
"Hmm," sighed Caster. He followed behind holding an electric torch, crow-cyborg cleaning its beak on his shoulder.

They were deep underground at this point. The floor was wet and metal broken apart as overgrown roots and lightless vines erupted through the paneling. Nothing should have been able to grow this deep underground, but there it was - as thick and tangled as though a rainforest was straining to burst fully formed out from the earth. Caster smiled as he heard the buzz of a mosquito, and discreetly sprayed himself with a repellent.

"So just to recap," said Lancer, ticking off on her fingers. "The Sunshard is down here, the one the foxes used to summon us all. It's trying to bore a hole into the Vault of Wishes and is absorbing the energy of slain Servants to power it. All of this," she blasted through a thick tree trunk that had erupted through the middle of the corridor, "is bleedover, coming from Archer's death as the Sunshard accumulates the energy it needs. And you think we can jump the line straight to the end, yeah?"
"That is correct," said Caster. "Sunshards are artifacts that attune, and this one is attuned to the Blessing trapped within the Vault. Empowering it with sacrificed Servants will allow it to spread its influence further and further, but that is useless to us until the seed flowers. But now that the Sunshard has awakened, we can use it as a... telephone, to bridge the gap between us and what's inside. And from there, we can draw forth its power."
"And this does not involve murdering, entrapping, cursing, or otherwise damning me to some ironic fate?" said Lancer.
"No," said Caster. "Not that I'm aware of. What's inside is a Blessing. It only wants to help."
"And it won't turn me into a fleshmonster?"
"Only if that's your wish," said Caster.
"And the reason you're not using this for yourself is..."
"Someone needs to cast the spell," said Caster. "I will allow you to access the Blessing. You use the power of it to kill the other Servants. Then I will cut off the Blessing and attempt to fight you myself once we are the only two who remain."
"You keep saying that's your angle," said Lancer. "But I don't buy it. I've got a really good eye for bullshit and deception, and while all of that's true there's something you're not telling me."
Caster sighed, but did not answer.
"Cutting off the Blessing will cause some sort of terrible side effect?"
"No," said Caster.
"You have a special technique for taking me down specifically?"
"No," said Caster. "Any martial Servant would be fine for this. I am indifferent as to who I empower, you are simply convenient."
"You have leverage against my Master and you'll have her turn on me?"
"No," said Caster. "I neither know nor care who your Master is."
"So," said Lancer, biting her knuckle, "all it comes down to is that you think you can win a one vs one fight when you couldn't win a free for all, is that it?"
"Hmm," said Caster. "Yes, that's broadly correct."
"Could you win if I attacked you right now?" said Lancer, putting her spear under his nose.
Caster glanced at her sideways. "That would leave far too much to chance. I'd flee, and try to form another alliance."
"Argh, this is going to bug me all night!" said Lancer, banging her spear against the wall. "I know I'm missing something, I just can't see it."
"Consider," said Caster, stepping into the dark and dripping computational cathedral, "the possibility that I am simply very stupid."
"What's fucked is that you believe that's true too," said Lancer, and then groaned and looked down to where she'd stepped in an over-ripe pumpkin. She hopped into the massive room, illuminated by the dull blue glow emerging from the server pillars, where it could be seen through the enveloping leaves. Every few moments there's a soft, wet impact as an apple falls from the dark vault of the ceiling and splatters upon the ground. In the center of everything, surrounded by a cascading bloom of grapes and olives, is the Sunshard - and beyond it, a massive blue-steel wall, covered in arcane glyphs.
"We are here," said Caster, sitting down next to the Sunshard. There was a little wooden chair, painted green, waiting for him there. "Have you made your decision?"
"Well, as I see it there are only two options," said Lancer. "Either you're smarter than me, or I'm smarter than you. If you're smarter than me I'm doomed either way. If it's the reverse, my only risk is psyching myself out over nothing." She grinned, "And Rome wasn't built by those afraid to cast the dice."
"Very well," said Caster. He reached into the glowing, crystalline surface of the Sunshard and pulled forth an archaic telephone - so old it was a speaking tube attached to a radio microphone. He handed it across to Lancer, who gave it one last glance and picked up the receiver.
Caster closed his eyes and began his spell.

There was something about the energy of this moment, soup bowls all cleaned up and the whole... uh... 'team' gathered around a mostly still intact table, that made Kat feel like everybody ought to be wearing a uniform.

What kind of uniform? No idea! An old fashioned school uniform from one of the animes, something in a deep, darling blue perhaps? A crisp black number with shiny brass buttons, fancy looking medals pinned to the chest, and an awesome looking hat? Some kind of sports jersey with those really neat shin guard dealies and spiky shoes? Maybe just a bunch of leather jackets with a matching team logo on the back? Iono! Sky's the limit I guess? Point is, she just felt like they oughta have 'em.

But, bein' honest I don't know where they'da found that stuff on such short notice to begin with and even if they had it's difficult to imagine too many on the team woulda been all that enthusiastic about the prospect at all. It's sorta like, can you even picture Ivar in a skirt? I mean yes, you can, but it'd be a daring leather number with studs and belts and whatever else like you'd find on a warrior. I'm talkin' pleats here. Like I'm not saying she'd look bad but... you don't think she'd hate it? You don't?! Really?

Huh.

Any-- and the socks, too? All the way up to her knees? And those little shoes, I can't remember what they're called, but you know the ones I'm talking about. You really think the Avenger would be fine with. I! Wow. I mean I guess never judge a book by its cover right? Can't say I'm not surprised but that really says more about me huh?

Well in any, no I mean. Hold up. The little top, too? That demure little button up shirt with the dainty cuffs? You think they could even pattern that to fit on a body like hers? Like I'm not trying to make her feel bad, it's just I mean come on right? You think her legs are long and you're right but that torso is. Mmf. Goshies. I feel like-- no yeah? Yeah no? No yeah yeah no yeah? With the ribbon sailor scarf whatsit on her shoulders and everything?

No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. No. No! I just don't see it. I really, really don't. Look, I-- hey I am not trying to body shame! I'm saying it's a crime to cover her up like that when she could be dazzling the world in a sleek black dress. Something open chested, like, with super high thigh slits, and a ton of gold jewelry draping over everything so she looks like a queen on her way to the Kikil Land Gala. Put her back in that braid? Awoo. But no. No, like, she looks crazy young and everything but I don't see high school being her

Huh? Trousers? No I guess but isn't that ceding the point? What the heck does 'Sabers are meant to be cross-dressing beauties' mean? I really need you to........

***

"The problem," said Ivar, "Is that I cannot account for any of the remaining Servants. It limits the scope of our plans."

Something about her magic seemed reduced. She no longer exuded evil energy or withered the ground just by standing on it, and her voice sounded normal again. A little softer and more airy than when she'd been able to call herself Saber, but still singular and distinctly human. Her wounds were still stitching themselves shut, but they did so with agonizing slowness. Especially compared with the invincible nightmare warrior that had attacked everyone not half a day prior.

A very frazzled looking Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits looked up (and up, and up) at her. Nothing about this strategy meeting had gone at all according to the picture in her head, and she lacked for both tact and guile enough to keep that from showing on her face and in her eyes and across her sad, drooping ears.

"I, I mean. But if we could make even one of them our friends then wouldn't it not matter? We already have Berserker and she's so strong,"

"To what degree are you able to control her in such tight formations?"

"A-and you're really strong too, and you've done all this war stuff like a million times already,"

"I do not know how I appear to you, child. But it is wiser not to count me among your battle assets."

"So if we just, huh??" said Kat, with all the emotional intensity of a girl who could not under any circumstances juggle any more bad news.

"My spirit core is barely holding together. If it comes to a fight I will win it for you but the longer we can disguise our approach the greater our chances will be."

Kat moaned. Cyanis glanced over from over top her sunglasses, but other than pausing from her very important luxury diamond nail filing she just sniffed derisively and ignored what was happening. Diaofei stared at what should have been her own loyal Servant with a look on her face that seemed half about to speak up. But she offered nothing, and turned her head down to her meditations. Her chains rattled where they pulled against Actia's.

It was Angelesia who looked the most worried, in spite of everything she'd been through.

"Your spirit core?" she asked, "Are you trying to say you're dying?"

"I am already dead."

"Lancer already explained that part to me, I meant --"

"Consider me as a weapon. A bow, specifically. I may be used to fire three arrows at the most. After that I will shatter, and not even my hatred or my promises will keep me on this earth for very long."

"Then we just need to contact Lancer! If we have her do your fighting for you, we'll manage. Plus tactics are her specialty! She'll know exactly what we need to do, even better than you!"

She grinned for long enough to realize that sounded like an insult, and then became very interested in her arm. Ivar glared at her.

"Lancer's agenda is the Sunshard, and her loyalty is to Rome. She will not join us, and I would not trust her if she did."

"B-but if I just explain it's being used to do something evil she'll listen to me, won't she? I'm her M-m, I mean! She's my Servant!"

"Girls?" squeaked Kat.

"You are also loyal to Rome."

"Wh-what does that?" Angelesia looked horrified, "But we have an alliance!"

"Girls??" Kat worried at her tails.

"You are also loyal to Rome. I do not trust you either."

"Girls!" screamed Kat, stomping her foot on the floor.

All heads turned to look at her. She quivered, but cleared her throat heroically.

"Lets, uh, focus on the important stuff ok? We're together for right now and that's what matters. Miss Saber you say you can't fight more than three times, right? But actually I don't think we should fight at all anymore if we can help it. I've just, uh, been thinkin' about it and... it's you Servants that are s'posed to power the ritual, right? So if any more of you die..."

She looked all around the table for someone who could back her up. Instinctively her eyes fell on Actia, who had the most tails of anybody here and also understood what she was trying to do better than Kat had ever managed, for all the effort she'd bent toward the topic. The four-tail merely leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

But her lips turned up in a queer little smile.

"Oh whatever let's just steal it," said Cyanis, "If we heist the heist back, that's like a triple heist or something. And it'll be easy since we don't even need to take it from Qiu this time."

"I have tolerated quite a lot so far," said Diaofei despite having done nothing of the sort, "But I will not sit and watch a pack of foxes seize a sunshard! As if you could be trusted with such a thing! This entire miserable ritual is proof enough of that!"

"Fluffy earist." sneered Cyanis.

"I... beg your pardon?"

"I dunno Cy, I think giving it back to Princess Qiu is our only hope."

"WHAT?!"

"Look! We are in so much trouble already! Even if the world doesn't blow up, and it's gonna, nobody's getting any more tails out of this. Actia tricked us. All we can do is put everything back the way we found it and say we're really, reaaaaally sorry and then maybe we get to live the rest of our lives somewhere not named Cutie Fox Island."

"You traitor! You coward! I can't believe you! After everything I've done for you!!"

"I am not fooled for a moment by either of you. There is not a fox alive who understands emotions. This is a ploy to enter the good graces of myself and the innocent, and it has failed. How convenient to offer promises and play up the nobility of your 'sacrifice' when none of us even know where the sunshard is located."

Actia stirred. Even this slight motion drew a pained wince out of her, though when it passed she was the picture of placid calmness that should have put Diaofei to shame just as much as it managed to frustrate Avenger.

"I am surprised at you, Diaofei. You are every bit as cruel as you have accused me of being. Did our time together mean nothing to you?"

The monk was silent. Bound as she was there was no physical remonstrance available to her, and any lecture she might have been on the verge of offering was cut off by Actia's apparently having fallen back asleep. It pulled her short, and with nothing else left to her she was forced to think.

Several minutes later, her eyes opened wide.

"No. She can't have meant..."

***

Right so without at LEAST a big strong pair of boots you agree we're not halfway to showing off how hot she is! Gosh! I don't understand why this was so hard. Now where was... oh. Oh no. You can't mean I missed it? I did? Oh shoot, I did!

Ah darn it all come on I was looking forward to this! What am I supposed to narrate now? It's my turn, darn it!! Come on just give me a better chance, I won't mess around next time! Please?

Every phone at the table rings simultaneously.

Opalis looks at the tablet that she wears integrated with her golden bracelet. Cyanis lazily fishes out her hot pink sticker-plastered phone from her bosom. Aeglesia reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bright red phone marked with thunderbolts and SPQR. Diaofei fumbles out an archaic wooden flip phone, engraved with warding glyphs. Actia pulls out a gun.

BANG BANG BANG

The foxgirl blasts away at the dragon before anyone can react. The warding glyphs on Diaofei's phone glow red and a second later it bursts into flame. Cyanis and Aeglesia scream as a mesh of mechanical tentacles burst out of the glowing screen of her phone and start trying to drag them into the screens. The mouths of the phones are stretching wider, elastically, large enough to take a person through whole.

Berserker reflexively moves to intervene; she barely gets a wall up in time as a spear explodes out of the morass. It shatters the wall, and the impact slams Berserker across the room. Lancer.

Katherine's extremely cool moon wolf phone will be no exception to this attack. If she answers immediately she'll be seized as quickly as the other two masters; if she doesn't she has until the phone rings out before the tendrils start to force their way through.

As a rule, Kat was never quick about answering her phone. Don't get the wrong idea! It doesn't have anything to do with danger sense, or some kinda wisdom thing, or a mistrust of phones or anything like that. She loves her phone! The super cool wolf moon part's a little, uh, let's just say... she loves who that represents? That feels safe. Point is, if you'd taken her to the phone... store? And let her trade for one all by herself she'd have picked something a little bit more glittery and soft, like the sweet little kitten bapping at a crescent moon charm that dangles from the top of it when she pulls it out of her bag. But this is hers and she's proud of it and she would never ever ever do a bad girl thing like not answer the phone when it rings.

But she always, always let's it ring. Meaning she lets it play. When Kat got this phone she spent hours 'n hours n' hours picking out the perfect little jingle so she'd always know when it was her phone that was making noises and didn't get excited over nothing. Which worked a treat, except she picked such a good one that she listens to pretty much the whole thing out of habit and only ever picks up at the literal last second. Which is important to remember when you're callin' her 'cause it's easy to give up too early if you think she's just busy and don't wanna go to voice mail, but no, she's just jammin'.

Today? That saved her life. Because while Cyanis and Angelesia were busy screaming at the phone-monsters trying to eat them, Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits was bopping her head up and down and listening to her favorite tune. And that gave her a crucial bit of time to hear screaming and look up to see what the heck was happening. Which meant that when she started screaming too, it wasn't because tentacles were trying to drag her into the phone-o-verse or whatever it is that technomancy calls it. I should ask Xiu.

Still, getting an extra thirty seconds of freedom wasn't the same thing as coming up with a genius plan to save anybody, or even herself, even if speedrunning taught her that amount of time was basically an eternity. It turns out that in situations you haven't practiced, it really super duper isn't. She looked around in a panic, trying to find an out. Who could she count on? Berserker was frothing mad but was so busy defending herself she couldn't even get a proper wall started, let alone a fortress that could protect anyone extra. Cy was clinging to the table so tight her nails were dragging grooves across its surface, and the most you could say about Angelesia in comparison was that her nails weren't long enough to do the same.

Normally she'd look to Actia as the oldest fox, but someone had slipped her an extra dose of crazy powder in her coffee this morning or something, because goodness goshies what was she thinking?! If that was a genius plan to save everyone, Katherine didn't understand it well enough to trust in it. Diaofei was a monk, which put Kat on edge to begin with, but even if desperate times called for desperate situations this particular monk was frozen in shock and also chained to a crazy-powedered foxgirl. That's no good!

Wait. Oh no. Oh nyo. She was still holding her phone. Clutching it tight, even! Was it going to do the scary thing to her too? It rang when everyone else's did so you'd have to figure but sure Hyra of all people would be cool enough to find the only not cursed phone in the world? If it was for a birthday present? Right??? But her tails were bushing, and they didn't do that if she felt safe.

No girl, you've gotta throw it! Even if it's the most precious thing you own, it's gonna eat you! Why hasn't it done it yet? Oh, oh, oh goshies, what was she supposed to-- nyeh!!!

It left her hand at the very last second of her ring. She threw it as hard as she could, but too little too late. Black as night and neon green, the phone spiraled in the air before sprouting tendrils of its own that managed to lasso her delicate and desperately scrambling wrist. Not enough to hold her tight, but its pull was stronger than she was. All she had was her legs. She used them.

This is the kind of moment they made security blankets for. She wished she was curled up safe in hers at home, with the fireplace crackling and a tea kettle boiling over for her to whine at until Yue turned it into hot delicious leaf juice with even more delicious leaf-juice cookies to go with it. Not for the last time! But Katherine was a brave girl, whatever her trembling knees would want you to believe: when she runs, it's forward, not away. It puts a bit of slack in the restraints this curse's tryin' to put on her. It expected her to run. It expects everyone to run, y'know?

See, people never tell you this, but when it comes to a duel it's really little things that make up the difference between victory and defeat. You'd like to imagine that having big fancy finishers or secret swords or whatever'd be really super duper mega important, and I ain't sayin' it's not or anything but none of that makes a lick of difference next to just having enough courage in your heart to believe in what it is you're doing.

Does that make sense? It means that, Katherine could've run screaming like everyone else or froze up and nobody'd blame her. She could have screamed for help and decided before she tried anything that she needed saving, and understandable as that mighta been it'd'a been the end. Maybe for everybody. There's no time but what you buy in a fight, is the thing. But her special song's a thing for magical girls and heroes, and how could she stand to look at herself in the mirror if she didn't try to live up to that? Her, tryin' to save the world and everything. So when she leaps into the air and sends a kick at her still transforming phone, her form's lousy as anything and it doesn't matter at all. It's the one thing she coulda done that the other side wasn't expecting either. It buys her time, time that was already bought and paid for by someone else who'd been expecting to use it for themselves.

She doesn't even get to say the line about asking someone to take care of the landing. Before she can fall or gracelessly tumble face first into a wall, or just plain get eaten anyway because let's face it determination or no this little sweetie weighs about the same as a loaf of bread, something catches her. Something that could not have crossed the distance with all this interference, if she'd gone the other way. A brilliant, shining laser sword slices through the tentacles grabbing at her before it cracks her beautiful Cyber Wolf Moon phone in half.

"Our plan managed to fall apart before we finished making it," muttered Ivar, "I am impressed."

From the severed tentacles, vines begin to creep. They burst upwards rapidly, wooden tendrils replacing metal ones, and immediately they begin to blossom. The flowers merged together in a storm of vibrant pollen and, pink and white, Lancer stepped down. A long green dress drew behind her sparkling with a million stars, a wreath flowering crowned her head, and long flowing white sleeves perfectly captured the bloody red stains that spoke of blood sacrificed in the name of Rome. "Mine was a seed that never had the chance to blossom," she said, trailing a long spear behind her. "Mine was a reign could have healed the world."

She raised her spear to the roof; with a terrible detonation it blew away the stone that Berserker had made, and with a twist the entire castle she had erected began to peel apart and blow away on the sand.

"You knew Julia the Apostate. Julia the failure," said Lancer. "Who I would have been if I failed at my ambition. The Empress who presided over the final break between East and West, the Empress who failed to burn out the Church and was damned by them, the Empress who in a stroke of tragic luck was struck through by a spear," her fingers curled around her nightmarish weapon, "before her reign could truly begin."

"But the Gods have answered my prayer," she said, "even before I triumph in this contest of ours. My victory is inevitable and so travels back in time to ensure it will occur. As I shall rewrite history, so history shall empower me. There will be no Dark Age; only an early Enlightenment. There will be no fall of Rome; instead it shall continue uninterrupted and glorious all the way into the heavens. There shall be no," she sneers at Berserker, who - shockingly - flinches, "feudal warlords and their ugly little castles squatting in the ruins of my Empire. Northern raiders will be met by the fury of the Legions and driven back to their rocks," in this moment she turns her gaze on Ivar and -

drifting alone on an iceberg, cut off from human history. julia's ascent means the destruction of your legend, your history, your destiny, everything you fought and died for. she can feel the cold mechanical gaze of the moon pressing down on her, the cutting scissors of the norns as they sever her from the tapestry of fate

Berserker was right to flinch.

"You face Julia the Philosopher," said Lancer. "And I am here to condemn your entire timeline. Your lives will become as meager and pathetic as mine once was, and you will drift away like sand through an hourglass."

It's really not fair. Like, how brave is brave enough? What good does it do finding a momentary spark when life just asks you to stoke it again and again and again and again? Ok, sure. Maybe not enough gets asked of a house fox on a daily or even a weekly basis. So realizing the foxgirl games were getting out of hand and that she'd need to be the one to save the world? That's fair. And it's fair to make her recruit her own party to do it, too. Even if that party turned out to be super scary and everyone hated everyone else. That's fine, that's fine. I dunno if there's such a thing as responsibility debt or anything but if there is that's Kat paying it.

But like, c'mon? She had to be the one to stand up to Cy. She had to stand up to Actia. She had to stop herself from calling for help from anyone she knew on an almost hourly basis. She had to march up to a rampaging mecha controlled by a death-tainted raider warlord and stab her in the ribs with the Friendship Poker. She had to wrangle the lot of her ragtag bunch into something halfway resemblin' a decent dinner (which she had to cook!) and at no point during any of this did she get to really sit down and rest. This was not the kind of adventure she'd seen once before from inside a messenger bag. But after everything, what was her reward?

Berserker, who she had to wrangle constantly to keep from destroying and/or conquering everything she saw, was frozen stiff at the sight of this new woman. Avenger, who not two days ago was closer than anyone ought to be to slaughtering the planet in the name of revenge on a single person, looked at her opponent and simply stuck her obnoxious glowing sword in the ground. Which, I dunno if you knew this? Is not a thing most fighters do when they're trying to win a duel?

She'd done the thing. She'd screwed up her courage and kicked at the phone monster and did the every day magic of a tiny impossible miracle and it saved her life. So. Why was there another non-optional superboss to begin with? And why the h*ck was it on her to deal with it? She didn't know this woman! She didn't know what a 'Rome' was or why anyone would care! Could you eat it? Could you hug it? No? Then what the fluff?! What the actual fluff? Could she really work herself up to get shouty again when she didn't know if that'd work to begin with? And, like, she'd been trainin' with Berserker for a little while but she was still less than half the demon swordswoman Yue (ehehe!) had been at the end of her first adventure. And as a little reminder, that demon swordswoman lost every fight she got in (...ehe. Heh. Ah)!

"Julia the Philosopher?" Avenger's creepy ghost voice startled Kat out of her reverie/tantrum, "I don't suppose you bothered to get any better at arguing before you gave yourself that title. Tell me, is that spear a blessing from your gods? Or is it just another stick you plucked out of the mud?"

She stood there with her back straight and her feet planted firmly underneath her. She had no weapons in her hands because plainly she had no means of fighting back, but here was a warrior meeting not just the threat of annihilation but complete and total erasure from everything she'd ever held dear. Never mind her future, to have her past stolen from her as well? Kat couldn't even imagine. But there was Ivar. 'The Boneless' she'd called herself. And even so she stood prouder and braver than any role model Kat could have hoped to have right then.

In fact she was just opening her mouth to do a bit of barking of her own when she felt one of those long, rough fingers press down against her lips. She yelped, when she'd meant to scream. To speechify, even. She glared up (and up, and up) at Avenger, who quietly shook her head. With a flick of her hollow golden eyes she indicated that dragon still sputtering in the corner about the destruction of her tablet. Opalis? That was her name, yeah.

Katherine shuffled cautiously and heroically backwards. Ok, sure. That sounded easier than fighting another hopped-up-on-superpowers-bad-vibes-old-lady-ghost. She was so relieved she didn't even notice her sword was missing yet. Protect the dragon, sure sure! Or... wait. Was that not right? Was Avenger trying to tell her something else?

"Listen to me, Lancer. Give up on this at once. You are only going to be embarrassed by how it ends if you continue. I admit, no Servant manifested here can contest you. But these Masters are surprising. And this is their war, too."

Julia opened her mouth to retort but it was too late, breath attack breath attack breath attack.

Specifically, ice. When Opalis opens her mouth she does not blast forth a jet of frozen water, but conjured in the place between her jaws is a heat-annihilating microsingularity in a vortex of radiant violet. The air sheets and ripples as moisture snap-condenses into snow, the branches of the vines snap and rupture as their sap freezes and leaves fall in an early autumn, and Julia pulls her cape over her head to shield herself from the blast of terrible cold. Then her boots screech across the icy floor - she is dragged a step towards the terrible gravity of the dragon's jaws. With a fierce gesture she dismisses her tendrils - and Cyanis and Aeglesia are dragged through the phone-portals, which snap shut behind them - and turns to set her spear to face down the

BANG BANG BANG BANG. Actia still has a gun! But Julia has pulled up her armoured cape just in time and catches the attack, just like she catches the follow-up burning side-kick from Diaofei to the shin. The Redeemer of Rome's eyes water in pain and outrage for a moment before Berserker smashes a chair over the back of her head from behind, slamming her on the floor.

"Because I have a sense of humour and nothing to prove," said Julia from her position halfway through a flagstone. "I am going to let you appreciate this moment until I finish counting to ten. Laugh about it! And after that I'm going to bring back crucifixion."

"I dunno what cruci-whatsit is." said Kat, who was brave enough to admit it.

"Is this like that time Yue tried to bring back fashion capes? 'Cause that didn't work! She just saw it in a manga and started picturing it on Hyra, but that's-- oh right, that's Yue's wolfgirl girlfriend, you haven't met, but yeah stuff that looks good on Hyra is a lot different from worldwide fashion trends and basically I'm saying you should probably think this through? 'Cause it makes you sound like you've got a lot to prove even though you said you didn't."

Ok, not protecting the dragon. That was not the hint! The dragon does not need protecting! The dragon has some kinda scary magic whatsit going on that Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits is not remotely qualified to understand but it makes her see Princess Jessic in a whole new light and oh my goshies did Cy really not think about who she was stealing from that one time at all?!?!

Right no ok, focus! Focus focus focus! Everybody's doing big hero stuff and she's not going to fall behind! There's something she's supposed to be doing, something only she can, and Miss Saber saw it but couldn't say it out loud in front of the scary old lady on an apocalypse bender so she needed to figure it out before it was too late. She didn't have a sword (...anymore) and she didn't know monk kung fu and Berserker already did the chair thing so it didn't seem like she was gonna save the day with violence. What was it, then?

"I mean, you really oughtta listen to me on this. Miss Sa, erm, Miss Avenger said herself that I'm a wise sage fox, and I got my degree in Cutie Law fair and square so I really know a thing or two about not embarrassin' myself. Yourself. Anyway there's only one kind of Rome I've ever heard of and I really don't think pizza with french fries on it is worth all the violence, do you?"

Mhm, that's right! We're stalling. Because any second now, Ivar is going to strike and put the friendship sword through this woman that she clearly knows from somewhere and that'll drain the tension out of the air for good and for all, and that's probably the job she needs to do! Yup. Any second now. The Lancer lady is already up to '8', which is some other number away from 10, so there's still time. Uhuh. All she needs to do is...

She's in the middle of congratulating herself on her insight when an axe slides loudly across the floor and stops at her feet. The little spark of bravery fluttering inside her chest catches again and she bends to pick it up before she can tell herself she doesn't want it. Why an axe, though? Axes weren't good for much, not like swords. You couldn't swing 'em like this and like this and like this, finishing like that. There weren't Axe Katas the way there were Gun Katas, even. And an axe could never cut down a helicopter, unless it was very super big (or the helicopter very super small, one supposes), so what good did it do?

"It's not too late." she says, meaning every word in her sweet little heart.

Her eyes fall on the phone prisons that have Cy and Angelesia trapped. She looks at the axe in her hand, and grips it tight. One more time, she leaps into action. She whispers a little prayer to herself, that form doesn't matter for this kind of thing. And a second prayer, that neither of these two get mad at her for breaking their phones. But it's for their own good. At a time like this, everyone needs to be present in the moment, y'know?

She brings the weapon down. It's the first step to being a hero. Probably. Could she get another hint?

The phones break apart, spilling girl and fox tail all over the floor. The ominous blue light in the heart of the devices takes a moment to fade away entirely even with the severed electronics.

A wall is in front of Kat, and a second later the sizzling black-hot tip of a spear. The broken stone dust fills the air as Lancer wrenches the weapon loose back the way it came. Something about this weapon is truly wicked - this is a curse made manifest. Despite Lancer's earlier dismissiveness about the value of specific storied weapons, this spear never leaves her hand for a second.

"You're right," she hisses. "It's not too late. Even thousands of years after the fact it's not too late. I will not be remembered for a stroke of bad luck."

Berserker throws up another wall, another hammer blow strikes through it. Beneath her visor, Berserker's teeth grit as her wall grows thicker, and again as the lance smashes through stone and mortar. The various Masters gather in a cluster behind Katherine as the wall continues to take blow after blow. There is nothing Berserker can do to move to the offense; in Julian's story, the best her castles can hope for is a slow siege before a total collapse.

"Hey Kat," said Cyanis, putting her sunglasses on as she started to squeeze octopus-like through the narrow arrow slit of a window to escape. "Don't mind me, I'm going to get help. I - what? What the hell is this?"
"Hmm," said Actia thoughtfully. Cyanis yanked her wrist. Somehow she had become linked to the same chain that was binding Actia and Diaofei together.
"You can't do this to me!" cried Cyanis, flopping dramatically on the floor (and also so that she could try to use both feet to scratch at the chain. "You need to use silk, or soft leather, or a pre-Rewan lock! My skin is delicate! I'll get eczema!"
"Oh no, is that because of the cold?" said Opalis. "I'm so sorry! I've never used my breath on people before, let me get my first aid kit -"
"Great Buddha, grant me the strength to endure -"

There are not enough collective braincells in that mess to figure out a coherent escape plan; I'm afraid that will fall to Kat and Ivar.

"Lady I don't remember you now? What're you tryin' to get me to forget? 'Cause whatever it is you don't gotta fight a war over it! Here, watch this!"

It was dangerous and scary to be like this again, especially in the face of someone Katherine didn't know and couldn't trust because of it, but the thing about her little warrior's heart is that once the spark did catch it got real stinkin' hard to put it back out again. If she got blazin', that by goshies that's just what she'd do.

She snaps her fingers and points to her first witness.

"Ok who can tell me what this crazy old lady's deal is? Ready go!"

"...The Lancer class is famous for its bad luck. Most anyone could qualify." lied Actia, through the magic of only speaking irrelevant truths.

"My wrists! They're pinching my wrists get them off get them off get them off!!!"

"Uh, Cy?"

"They're cold and clammy and ugh! They're rougher than the hands of a hundred wolfgirl bandits! I did nothing to deserve this! Nothing!!"

"...Cy?"

But Cyanis had resorted to chewing on the chains that bound her cutie little wrists. Which, as it turned out, was a horrible mistake.

"Ptuigh! Ackfth! Blegh! And they taste just awful!!!"

Kat did the only thing she could, which was to take that answer as a common cutie w and move her finger over to Opalis.

"Oh no! Is this because of the cold? I'm so sorry, I swear I'm normally never like this! I just got so riled up by that other lady's speech, and I thought -- oh hold on, I've got a voucher for a very lovely masseuse in here if I can just... find it..."

Ok well that probably counted too! Everybody kept not making the point as, uh, forcefully as Katherine would like but in their own roundabout ways they were definitely reinforcing the main concept. Which was that nobody knew or cared about Juliwhatsit and her failed pizza restaurant.

Not that Kat had no sympathy for the ghost lady, y'know? She's actually pretty familiar with having dark and terrible secrets she'd rather be erased, though she'd never try to, like, alter history to do it. Whatever Jewelbia's big whoopsie was it couldn't stack up to the time Katherine tried to surprise her friends with tea but forgot to add any tea before she served it so there was nothing for anyone to drink except very lovely cups of scalding hot water. And when she noticed and panicked she tried to take 'em back, see? But she was rushing and she would up spilling it everywhere, including her pretty new dress! And I mean luckily most of it got on the skirt which was very swishy so she didn't burn herself, but it flustered her somethin' fierce and she was halfway to pulling it off before she remembered she was in front of company and, like, see? You could be... gosh I don't know, poked with a spear in the middle of a campaign to restore the empire you just wound up in charge of right after deciding you'd move faster without your armor and then have a famous quote attributed to you that gave props to your worst enemies that you definitely didn't say, just to toss something out there I guess, and I think that'd be maybe half as forget-worthy as our poor girl's nothin' tea incident.

Oh, if it makes you feel any better, she's since learned how to make the most wonder matcha latte you've ever tried. Consider askin' her for one sometime! Promise you won't regret it. Anyway we could move on to Diaofei's testimony but, uh,

"Om, Om,Om Ami Dewa Hrih Om..."

Yeah.

All of this got just, like, no reply by the way. Which definitely meant it was working super duper well? Or that Kat'd managed to doom the entire world by choosing the Way of Rhetoric over the Way of the Sword Axe. Which she still hated, thank you Ivar! The weight of it was much too clunky and it wasn't pretty like a sword and you could only swing it like a big dumb brute (as far as she could figure) and the haft chafed her delicate hands which was taking a lot a lot a lot a lot of foxy willpower not to focus on but it didn't matter anyway because the evil would be defeated in just one more strike!

Kat turned her finger toward Angelesia, who'd come to enough to react to being pointed at. But before she could ask anything, Angelesia lifted off of the ground with a yelp, a squawk, and a yeep! Ivar had appeared again, with Kat's sword now tucked delicately against her very prominent hip, but a wicked curved dagger held in her hand opposite the girl she now held in the other.

"Much as I appreciate what you're trying to do," Avenger sighs, "We have a better use for this one."

And then she -- what? No she didn't knife the girl! What is the matter with you?! Obviously she threw her at Lancer!! Duh!

Screaming her war cry of "help me help me catch me catch me please aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" the girl-missile flew contrary to her name (the missile part. 'Cause she hit. I dunno what'd it even mean to fly like an Angelesia) straight into Lancer's face. And in that moment everything broke into chaos. Ivar scooped up Kat and tossed her at Berserker, who whatever her other faults might have been was very good at taking a hint and so grabbed her Master and one end of the Great Sillyhead Chain and started running. Avenger, meanwhile, hefted the dragon side of the group onto her back and ran apace. Between them this had the effect of dangling a very indignant and screaming Cyanis in the air across a taut chain on either end of her wrists, while Diaofei half ran and was half-dragged along behind everyone else. Which was an arrangement that suited Ivar perfectly well.

"What the fluff?!" asked Kat, "What is? Why is?? Where are we going now? Did I screw up the plan? Wait is that girl ok?! 'Cause if you hurt her I!"

"Quiet, little fox. Angelesia is fine. Whatever her many flaws, Lancer will not harm her Master. It risks too much. As for us, we are not running."

"Sure looks like we are! You are! Berserker is! You know what I mean!" shrieked Kat, kicking her little legs for emphasis.

"We have nowhere we can run to. Even with my skills anywhere we could hide would be sniffed out before we could justify the time it took us to reach it. What we are doing is buying time."

"To do...what?"

"To stab this dragon." said Ivar, very matter of fact.

"WHAT?!"
"HUH???"
"MY ARMS ARE FALLING OOOOFFFFFFF!"
"E-E-E-EXCUSE ME?"
"CREATURE OF EVIL, WHAT DO YOU INTEND?"
"NO NO NO NO, WHAT?!?"

"Not to death," Avenger rolled her eyes, "We just need her blood."

"M-my blood?" asked Opalis, politely not trying to wriggle free from the warrior woman still technically carrying her to safety.

"Yes. Enough of it to make a summoning glyph. It may not accomplish what I hope, but I still wish for you to be your own sacrifice."

"Your plan has failed, Assassin," sighed Caster, sitting down heavily. A mechanical dog with a screen for a face hopped onto his lap and stared at the Cardinal with glowing blue eyes.
"It has merely become messy," said Assassin. "Lancer will still triumph."
"Messy," said Caster, holding up a hand in frustration. "Is failure."
"This entire operation hinged on disrupting the transfer of information," said the mechanical hound abruptly, voice clipped and artificial. "Instead we revealed it. Our opponents must surely have noticed the repeated attempts on the dragon's life by now."
"Well," said Assassin. "If that is the case, I will simply have to take matters into my own hands -"
He paused to look down at the mechanical tendril stabbing him through the chest.
"No, I do not think so," said Caster. "I think you betrayed us. I think that you are working in concert with your Master. I think that you knew she would foil your scheme."
Assassin opened his mouth to speak. Instead he coughed up blood. He grinned through bloody teeth.
"And even if my guesses are wrong," said Caster, "I think we can find better uses for you."
With a whirr of ancient machinery, Assassin was wrenched away from Caster's sight, carried into the heart of the massive technological monolith that ran deep into the heart of the world.
Even as his face dissolved into the light, he was chuckling - and then the metal walls slid back into place.

*

Some days it sucked to be a dragon.

No matter how far society and technology came, nobody ever seemed to fully move past the idea that you were composed of high end crafting components. Even if nobody was actively murdering you over it it was still unrelentingly awkward. When she had been losing her baby teeth a local bandit princess had tried to steal them so that she could grow an army of deadly handmaidens, which had lead to an intense 3am battle in her bedroom with the Tooth Fairy (who was real, but only for dragons). Her teacher had refused to accept that as a valid reason to delay her exam and so she'd been so exhausted she almost failed out of arcane economics. She'd once broken up with a human girlfriend because she'd gotten really into making jewelry out of her scales (which did deserve it, they had a rare rainbow shine she was very proud of) and they weren't growing fast enough to keep up with demand, which had made her feel like a half-plucked chicken. And that wasn't even getting into the time a Technomancer had tried to buy her voice because her 'singularity generation projector was broken, and therefore able to be reverse engineered' which in addition to being very scary had rudely called attention to her inability to ignite her breath attack like other dragons.

And now a foxgirl with an axe wanted her blood. She knew this day would come. She knew they wouldn't be satisfied with just her - erm anyway.

"Why don't we explore other options first?" said Opalis, bargaining as sweetly as she ever had. "I mean, we have not yet investigated to see if Ms. Julia could be redirected into the exploration of material riches? I am authorized to grant her a very generous timeshare in a beach vacation house collectively maintained by my Order in order to -"

The next part of that was unfortunately lost over the sound of a spear piercing through a stone wall.

"Enough!"

It is rarely necessary (or wise) for anybody to punch a dragon. But, when it is? It helps a lot to have a Servant do it. Especially one like Avenger, who's pretty close to the same size as Opalis. So when she drops a big ol' haymaker right across that pretty, serpentine jaw it connects with enough force to make Kat wince just watching it. Terminal fluffybiscuit that she is, Katherine opens up her mouth to protest but shuts it again immediately when she sees the look on Ivar's face.

"Do you see that? We are out of time! It should have been done already! Worthless creature, how many opportunities to save yourself must I provide before you actually fucking take one? What is it you do not understand? We are outmatched. Rome will claim your precious timeshare whether you offer it or no. There is one and only one way out of this. And if you continue to do nothing even now, we will all perish. Every last one of us."

Avenger brandishes her large and horrible knife, and thrusts it into the ground in front of Opalis.

"You are a Master, are you not?" she snarls, "Then summon. Your thrice-damned. Servant."

Pulling a thick wooden shield seemingly out of nowhere, the Avenger class Servant turns her shadowy head toward Kat, who stands up on her tippy toes to feel a little less small in comparison. For at least a second or two, anyway. The really lousy feeling part's that it doesn't even help her any.

"Fluffy... no. Katherine. In the end, this will probably count as two of my arrows. See that they are not wasted."

And with nothing but the strength of her own giant body, and I guess her magical gleaming armor that doesn't work against cursed death spears probably, and a simple wooden shield and Kat's little sword to her name, Ivar the Boneless leaps over Berserker's crumbling battlements to do single combat with Julia the Philosopher.

Honestly? That seems a little crazy? Like, two arrows? Really, girl? I dunno, that feels like you're gonna get the whole darn bow smashed to bits. She's cut off from her own legend, here! All the bits that make her a famous warrior, and not just a vanity project Valkyrie whatsits cooked up by her much more famous King Father. There's a minute, maybe two, that she can hold out against the kinda firepower she's running into before her spirit core just shatters from the pressure of it all. Probably double that if she can manage to get Lancer yappin' again instead of stabbin', but who's counting?

Oh right, me. Well anyway.

So Kat, she looks at Opalis for a second. And then she very carefully turns and looks not remotely as far as she'd like to watch where the battle's taking place. Which really, a glance is enough so she up and turns back to the dragon. Ohhhhhhhh. An axe!. She very carefully sets her little weapon on the ground so she can lean on the haft a bit.

"Honestly?" says Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits, "I'd love to yell at her for bein' mean. But she's kinda got a point? So either you pick your favorite vein, or I'm gonna have to guess. Sorry about all this!"

"As the white serpent was carved into three, so I would sever the Empire of the Han."

A ghostly, crimson light. Dragonsblood drifted in the air, ethereal and shimmering.

"As the white serpent received an ouchy ouchy boo boo, so I would inconvenience the Empire of the Romans."

And Rider finally arrived into the world.

She was dressed in white; white upon white upon white, all the way down to soft white scales where her hands emerged from her dress. Her eyes were narrow and slitted where they were visible through her veils. Her hair was done up in two large triangular shapes, held fast with silvery pins, and her silver earrings were in the shape of keys. She pulled back the gauze around her wrists to look at an incongruous digital watch, held in place with a wristband covered in tiny green hearts, and sighed, tapping her foot.

"I beg your pardon?" said Opalis, immediately bandaging her injured wrist (she was also holding an ice pack to her face where Saber had punched her).
"My summoning," sighed Rider, "was inextricably linked to the curse of the White Snake. If you cut off her head, I would have returned to take yours; if you cut off her tail, I would have returned to take yours. You didn't even cut off her little pawsie! Master, had you met a terrible end I could have avenged you and carried your wish into the heart of the world. Instead I arrive with only the strength to carry out retribution against a mild mannered fox, and before that I must undo the concept of Rome. You have given me little to work with."
"Well! You! One, getting not stabbed is fairly high up my list of wishes -"
"A weakness of character," yawned Rider, revealing two long, serpentine fangs.
"And two!! You didn't tell me any of that!!"
"My messages were being intercepted by Assassin," said Rider. "Who, at least, was trying quite hard to get you into situations where you would be stabbed. Speaking of, darling fox," and Rider turned her attention fully on Katherine, placing her hands on her shoulder with all the demure temptation that snakes were famous for, "would you at least consider severing this dragon's head? I do not know if it would empower me at all at this stage, but surely you agree it would be worth the attempt?"

"Um," ummed Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits quite ummily, "Uh?"

You can't really blame her for reacting this way. It's a lot to chew on! And basically no time at all to get her precious little mouth around the problem. Even as she leans on her axe trying to figure out what the situation demands of her, there's a loud bang behind her and the Servant still technically occupying the Saber slot in this little sunshard war goes flying backward with her shield already half worn down to splinters. One of Berserker's mini-walls forms under her feet to catch her and then shoots her back into the battle like a slingshot, but if this kind of combo attack's got a surprise factor to it that's only worth an extra minute given how badly Lancer's got them outmatched in her current form.

Like, you can be brave and skillful and a proud, mighty warrior and it just doesn't do a whole lot of good when the enemy's holding their thumb over a big "I'mma beat you, specifically" button. Y'know? So Kat didn't need to stop and watch to know the fighting wasn't any better than a distraction. That distraction needed to be good for something more than just a bit of thinkin' done, or it'd be too late for her conclusion to do anybody much good at all.

"First of all I do appreciate you bein' polite?"

Nice one, Kat! They say that master negotiators always start off on a compliment. Leastways I'm pretty sure they say that. I say it 'cause I heard it from Sis and she read it in a book one time and I don't really understand why they'd bother writing it down if nobody says it? So yeah. Excellent instincts by our fluffy heroine here. Full points!

"But, uh, no. I don't figure it's really in my best interests to try and kill a dragon who doesn't want to be killed," a lot of frantic nodding here from Opalis, "'specially when your super duper power up whatsit's s'posda be pointed at me???? Nuh uh, no thank you ma'am!"

Ok Kat sweetie, we're getting a little bit whiny here. Also maybe don't wave the axe around to make your point? I get that it feels good but you're putting it dangerously close to your little dragon friend's right when you're in the middle of explaining how you won't cut off her head? It sends a very muddy message, is my point.

"It's not like we gave you nothing to work with, y'know? I've got a whole alliance thingy goin' here! It's mine and I set it all up myself and part of the promise of an alliance is that you don't stab any of your members to death unless they turn evil or into a zombie. And the thing is, for this alliance to work I kinda need you to do a lot more fighting and a lot less whining like... now? Right now? Or instead of an alliance you're gonna have no power and no help. That doesn't seem like a very good position to me."

Ooh ok, solid points all around. I dunno about you but I think she's on good pace to bring this one home. But you'd better hurry little biscuit, 'cause the chance your friend Miss Saber bought you is very quickly turning into mist, and while that's very refreshing on a hot summer day it's not what you need and not at all the kinda payment you can afford to take for such a brave warrior's sacrifice.

Kat sighs and drops her axe completely.

"Look. I know it isn't much, but we got you a three-vee-one here. All you've gotta do is be part of it, and then we'll figure out who owes who spankies and why this is all actually Cy's fault."

"EXCUSE?!"

"Shush you! I said we'll figure it out later! Right now Miss Rider needs to go and be a hero, ok? We'll pay for it with... um. Hrm. Ok. I have a... friend... that I can, well ok not call, someone kinda went and smashed my phone. But I can reach out to her, prolly, and even though I'd rather she not know anythin' about any of this, I'll fill her in so she can give you somethin' for your trouble. She makes a mean peanut butter and trout pastry I'll have you know! And she's pretty and she can do anything! Even kick your butt! But instead she'll make you that fishy buttercream that drives the local vixie population wild and if that's not the meaning of sacrifice I dunno what is. I'm not askin' you to go out and win by yourself but please. Just buy us an opportunity. We need you."

Sometimes? Sometimes all you can do is be a good enough girl and open your eyes real wide and pathetic like, and hope that'll be enough. Sometimes that's more than you can even manage. But really, she'd already sold out all her other opportunities just to have this one. So if she can't sweetie her way through this... I think the planet might be doomed. But I can't just -- yeah, no. Fingers crossed here.

"Little fox, please," said Rider, holding up her hand. "I never needed convincing that this was all Cyanis' fault -"
"I DIDN'T REALIZE THIS WAS CASTLE MEAN TO ME"
"- you don't need to give me the hard sell," said Rider. She flicked her wrists, revealing her long-fingernailed hands from her silken sleeves. She had a hand grenade in each. "I just needed a moment to vent. This has been a very frustrating war for me."

She bit the pin in first the left grenade, pulled, and spat it out - then she did the right.

"I'd prefer to fight with cruise missiles and the fury of revenge," said Rider. "But if I must make do with small arms and the power of friendship, then such is life." And with that, she flipped backwards off the balcony. At the apex of her arc she dropped the grenades, and by the time she'd completed her flip she had drawn a pair of assault rifles from those same sleeves and was blazing away guns akimbo. She landed delicately on tiptoes in front of Julia, who was sheltering behind her cloak, and delivered a kick with the kind of recoil you normally only got with wire-fu.

And as amazing as that fight would be to watch, Berserker is there in the next moment, grabbing Katherine by one wrist and dragging Saber with the other, and determinedly hauling both towards the door. There's no reasoning with her - other Berserkers are marked by an endless approach towards enemy, this particular one is characterized by an instinct to withdraw that is just as relentless. On the hill ahead was already forming another brand-new castle, wrenching itself up out of the earth. It was just as new, distinct and unique as every castle she'd previously summoned. How many did she have?

"O-oh. Ah, dang I'm sorry."

Poor Kat's turned pinker than a rose finch in a sunrise over here. There's such a thing as being too ready to fight, y'know? It's been a very rough trip for a Fluffybiscuits, and after the last several days' worth of encounters especially it took real effort on her part not to lead with a shouting session again. Just, to have gone for the face like that when there hadn't even been a need? That was the bit that was making her feel real awful, bein' honest with you. At the beginning of the Sunshard War she wouldn't have even been able to think about popping off like that and all of a sudden it was her default. If she had time to sniffle right now she would. But war makes big girls of us all, eventually.

"I think," she says quietly and oh so very carefully, "It's been a frustrating time for a lot of uuUUUUssSSSss?!"

You could argue it was too late for the attempt at reconciliation, seeing as Rider had already jumped into the fray and that said fray involved a greater than typical number of hand grenades. But Kat knows better than that. Servants have super hearing, among their other, less zoo trivia worthy qualities. And being ghosts, feelings tended to reach them even more than words, so it's always worth taking the extra effort to understand them and be nice. Rider did say she'd fight with the power of friendship (and small arms) after all. The power of friendship (and small arms) doesn't deserve to get disrespected by not sayin' your piece.

But now? Now she was being dragged away to safety, the thing she wants most and least of all at the exact same time. And one more time, she needs to pluck up her courage and do the hard thing.

"Berserrrrkeeeeerrrrr!" she whines, flailing, "Put me down put me down put me down!"

"Be silent, Katherine. You are going to give us away."

"You too, Miss Saber?"

"Avenger."

"I'm sorry, I just don't think that name suits you!"

Ivar tilted her head as she ran/got dragged along away from the battlefield. The stare she hit Kat with would be best described as, mmmm... well I mean? Not like 'piercing', that's a whole other kind of look. I feel like a piercing stare is what you get when somebody sees through you? This is, like, stormy. You see, because it's intense and all but cloudy kinda too. She's looking right at Kat and not seeing at all. I guess it's hard when the story you're allowed to tell about yourself is defined by what you can be called, especially if nobody can seem to agree on what that is. As if to spare her from the effort, Kat shakes her head.

"Just, tell me why we're not fighting! I promise Rider she'd have help! Didn't you want her summoned?! I thought the whole point was get enough numbers to--"

"Katherine."

"E-er? Yes?" Kat's ears went flat against her head. She knew a Scolding Voice when she heard one.

"You have been around sword fights for much of your life, have you not? Perhaps war has changed too much since my time, but what would you say usually happens when a single fresh arm takes the field against a superior opponent?"

Ok so. I love Kat very much so if you don't mind I'm gonna step in for a second. It goes on like this for a while and I'd rather you not get the wrong impression so is it cool if I just summarize real quick? Ok great! So. Basically you already know this 'cause you're a smartie with an appreciation for the classics, but any hero worth half a dang is gonna save the day in precisely that situation. The entire point of Secret Swords is bein' able to take the impossible and turn it into the regular, if you catch my meanin'. I guess these particular fighters call it a 'Noble Phantasm' and not a Secret Sword but that's a mouthful so I'm not gonna bother.

But see, the thing here is that any villain worth her salt is also gonna have a Secret Sword or two of her own up her sleeve that'll flip the regular back around into the impossible. It doesn't really matter if you're talkin' about a duel or a big ol' battle between ten thousand thousand fighters all shouting under different colored flags, at the end of the day if your opponent's any good at all you don't walk away from the whole affair without takin' your share of lumps. Right? That just makes sense. Mmk, Miss Ivar's on her way to the killer line so I'm steppin' back again.

"Did you not tell me this was a battle to save the world?"

"I," stammered Kat, who at this point was super duper worried about losing the respect of a cool and also hot swordswoman, "Well I mean..."

"Ours is the weaker fighting force, Katherine. If you wish to help Rider--"

"I do! I had to cut open a dragon just to get her here!"

"Then we must accomplish our aims through cunning rather than strength."

"Y-you mean... you've got a foxgirl scheme?!"

Ivar turned her gaze toward Berserker's latest castle creation. Actually it's pretty amazing but you'd be wrong to call these things creations. They're not at all like what Sis, er actually in this context I'd better call her Princess Kikil but yeah they're nothing like the fortress mazes and puzzles that she builds whenever she lingers in an area. Those are brand new buildings, and even with a Sunshard movin' 'em along it takes a fair few weeks for the impressive ones to come together. Berserker? She's building memories. Every single castle she's dropped down, no matter how many of 'em have met unfortunate ends, have all been plucked from the real past in the real place she really lived. Probably. I mean it happened so long ago who's to say for sure.

The point is that they're English castles, and they pop up all lightning bunny quick like this because Berserker's mind and the land she's claiming already know what to do. Her legacy's a pretty incredible thing, if you ask me. Not the kind of thing that even a Roman Emperor ought to be trash talking, y'know? But Avenger... nah. But Saber's not really thinking about any of that. She's thinking about castle towns and what she used to find inside of them. And that's what pulls her face into that sharktoothed grin of hers.

"Let us be seen to retreat to safety. I will explain more inside."

To be a Berserker is to be cursed.

You know your own story. You know how you see yourself. You have your own internal narrative, your own trials and struggles, your own goals and ambitions. You have inner depth and complexity. But none of that matters because that's not how anybody sees you.

And what the Welsh saw in her was castles.

The Kingdom of Wales could have fit comfortably inside the Terraced Lake. In that tiny space six hundred castles had been built, one every thirty three square kilometers. Every hill and cleft had grown a castle, every ridgeline and chasm, every choke point and fertile land. They were not as she remembered them, peopled by chivalrous knights, wards against the Danes. They were as the people remembered them, grim monuments to taxation and populated by a religion of corpses.

It wasn't just the flash of anger that formed the connection for Katherine into Berserker's waking dream; it was the moment of miscommunication, the slip of defaults. To not even have realized that everyone else saw her as this monster of granite and steel...

The roads approaching are populated by soldiers with boar-head helms, hot breath visible between their tusks as they hold out mailed fists for their tolls. The walls wrap everywhere, closing off every passage that does not lead to the hungry metal-toothed gates, endlessly sucking in carts groaning with sacrificial grain. And it's not just grain that satisfies - ancient and sacred trees are hewn from the earth and dragged into roaring workshops, birds are plucked and severed and their feathers remade into weapons of war. Everywhere black-robed priests walk, hands gentle and soft as they point out to armoured men the temples of the old gods that are to be smashed and burned, the faerie gates to be trampled and sown with cold iron. Nobody here had cared what her sword was named. Nobody cared that she hadn't been the one to build most of them; she was confabulated with a hundred other hostile kings, all one indistinct mass of The English. A thief just as sure as any of the Danes, but she did not retreat to her longship when the raid was done. She would stay until she'd stolen even land and language.

Lose one castle; what did it matter? There were always more besides. Let Saber manage her theft if she could, Berserker would wear her down in the end until even the distant Viking lands worshipped her god and spoke her tongue.

Saber kept her head tilted up to watch the ramparts the whole time she was crossing through the gate. Such a curious expression on her face, too. Was she looking for the answer to a riddle? Maybe she wanted to sniff out a weakness in case she smelled opportunity later. Or maybe she was just impressed. I mean, I dunno. That's a woman who hasn't been allowed a consistent motivation since she got here. Not so different from a Berserker, if you're askin' me.

Whatever it is she's thinking, the second she's inside and out of sight of the battlefield all her attention switches to the ground. She stoops down to pick up a rock and roll it around between her fingers. Bends down even further to sniff at a patch of grass the way an animal might. Then she rises again with a shrug and just sorta, like, stomps around in random places?

"Foxgirl scheme, foxgirl scheme, foxgirl scheeeeme~"

Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits, meanwhile, is as happy as anybody's ever seen her. Her little feet barely kiss the ground before she goes skipping back off into the air again, happily hippily hoppily zooming around first Berserker and then Saber in a big ol' little figure eight. Her hands can't stop themselves from clapping. Her giddy laughter washes over this drab and evil castle like a drizzle of warm, clean rain. And just like that happy little storm, I'd really like to imagine it leaves the place that much cleaner and brighter for having been there.

The thing is, up until this moment she'd never been part of a scheme or heist that wasn't just Cyanis' idea, or some tiny unknowable part of that weird chuckling mountain's master plan. I'm yet to figure out what's goin' on with that by the way, it's weirdly sneaky for a mountain and Kat shuts up tighter than an oyster whenever I ask her about where she's been playing. But I'll figure it out. I'm more on the case than either of them realize. Hehehe. Right but anyway, in all the time Kat's been a cutie two-tail she's never had the chance to build up a portfolio that Cy couldn't take credit for. Even if the both of them had been swept up in Actia's plans, it was Cyanis who volunteered them both for the team up. And even then mostly just so that Kat could be around to help carry stuff, which was her usual role in these plans. The prospect of getting out there? Doing it for herself (with help, obviously)? Maybe even getting to feel like she pulled one over on someone? That had both her tails fluffing to maximum floof.

"Foxgirl scheme, foxgirl scheme, eeheehee~!"

"Katherine."

"Eep! I mean sorry! I mean eep? I mean, um, yes sir ma'am, reporting for duty! What're we stealing?"

"If we do this correctly, Lancer herself."

"Oh wow! You really think... wait," Kat puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head into Thinking Position, "No hold up that doesn't work. I know we're both, I mean, that you're new to Foxgirl Schemes but to start with stealin' a whole person's called kidnapping, and you can't steal them from themselves! This had better not be one of those metaphor whatsits, 'cause I just did a lot of skipping, sweetheart!"

But Saber wasn't listening it all. While Kat hopped and squeaked, Saber had picked up another rock out of the courtyard and used it to draw runes in the dirt. Now, I can't read these things any better than you can but seeing how there's seven of 'em I think we can take a pretty good guess where she's going with this.

"To begin with, you must understand that the gods are dead."

"Yeah? I've heard you say that like, uh," Kat quickly counts on her fingers to help with the math, "A bunch of times, but what does that mean?"

"It means what I have said. The world that I once lived in was fated to end."

"Oh right, 'cause of the ten suns!" chirps Kat, extremely helpfully.

"It," Saber blinks long enough to question her life choices, "Was fated to end in fire, yes."

"But then a Princess looked at the sky and said ten was too many, so she shot nine of 'em down! With her bow!!"

"If you say so," says Saber in a very Rolling With the Punches kind of voice, "But destiny called to the many gods of the realms, too. For love of our world they fought and perished, and from the ashes of that battlefield those who sheltered under the World Tree--"

"It was actually a Space Elevator I think?"

"...In. Any case, the Gods are dead. And if any new ones have been born to your world, Lancer does not and would not worship them. So it could not have been a god who granted her prayer."

Very eager to move on from what should have been a simple little primer (mind you, everything Kat said was just plain right?), Saber crosses out one of her runes, pauses with a sudden frown of realizing something kinda weird, and then moves on to underline a few more.

"Hrmn. Well, if the power she was granted did not from a god it must have come from another participant in this war. Archer is dead, and his Master is--"

"I know Cy's got big 'up to something' energy all the time but I dunno if she could ever--"

"...Archer's Master lacks the resolve to follow through on a plan that would see her sealed inside of a magical prison. So no, I am not concerned about her."

"Uh, right, yeah, that's what I was gettin' at too. Totally. Yeppers."

"Right. Again I must laud your wisdom, Katherine. Then I must hardly point out that most of the rest of us have been pulled into a tenuous alliance. Rider has the acuity but lacked the agency to have put this in motion, and neither do I wish to speak ill of a warrior who took the field for my sake. Her Master is completely incapable."

"Of?"

"Anything."

Kat winces, but what's she gonna say in response to that. Is there anything she can say in response to that? It's not like she's got an argument to the contrary; Opalis seems like a good girl and all but her devotion to Comfy and Safe borders on a level of mastery I've only ever seen in demons, and that one winter where Mei Mei got a working kotatsu. Like, especially for a dragon I'm just... she should be studied, right? For future generations?

"You, I trust. And your Servant is--"

"Don't say she's dumb! She's not!" Kat stamps her foot on the ground and glares her best Battle Glare. Almost as fearsome as that time she was a whole army, "She's every bit as clever as you are! And she's a good person too so don't go usin' that against her either! You two've got so much in common I just know you're supposed to be friends! And I'm a real good judge of things like this ok? I know besties when I see 'em!"

Now it's Saber's turn to have nothing she can say. Our little Katherine may not be the master of rhetoric she'd like to be in moments like this, but the thing about having terminal Good Girl Syndrome is that it gives you a shining maiden's heart that's just unbeatable when it's thumpin' under the light of friendship and hugs and other sweet soft things like that. And this is also the girl that friendship stabbed an Avenger so hard she pulled herself out of her obsession. What're you gonna do?

So Saber does nothing. She turns her head and points at one rune in particular.

"Caster. Or Caster's Master, whom I know nothing about. But Caster found me within an hour of my summoning and attempted to bait me into killing my Master, so that wretch is playing some part in this. Our 'play', as you would refer to it, is to find his workshop and smash it to pieces. If we sever whatever spell it is he's connected to her to it should make her manageable again."

"And that'll turn her back into a good girl?"

"Frankly," sighs Saber, "I suspect she's going to try to cringe herself to death. I'm counting on Angelesia to pick up the pieces. I swear, I have never had to work with such soft hearts before. How the lot of you can manage to be so powerful despite that baffles me. I suppose a new world requires new clarity of purpose. No matter. Berserker?"

And this right here is what we call a 'no go'. Whatever Saber's followup was gonna be, all it would ever, could ever get met by is a dark glower from a small but iron wrapped knight too stuffed full of pride, ambition, and that old school bloody warrior's zeal to let go of any of 'em. Unless she found someone or somethin' special enough to help her change her own story. But bein' honest, just from where I'm standing I wouldn't be able to tell if you if Berserker's story'd make anybody happier or sadder than what she's got to tell right now. Time'll reveal all though, right? I guess in the end if I've gotta I could always

Ahem. Oh look Saber's talking again!

"Katherine, then. What we need is a path beneath the ground. That's where we're going to find what we're looking for. And it will be the path our enemy is least likely to expect from us after our brazen retreat."

"Can I ask how come you're so sure we're gonna find the treasure underground? I don't like digging."

"Because, as an Avenger one of my class skills is mana replenishment. And the strongest concentrations of magical energy I have been able to pull from have come from underneath the earth. If I were a mage plotting schemes, that is where I would almost by necessity need to work. Can you compel Berserker to open a cellar somewhere? I suppose in the worst case we could turn to a Command Seal..."

Katherine blushes all of a sudden and hugs her tails against her chest, being very super careful to hide her hands in all that floof. Her hands which, I will note for the record, do not have any red markings on them at all. Makes you wonder where they went, huh?

A threat beneath the earth. Berserker was ready for that.

Castles came down to states of readiness. Neglected, they'd be stolen away, brick by brick. Disassembled by the locals who saw a mountain of pre-cut stone instead of a noble fortification, until there was nothing but a flattened hilltop in their place. But invested, there was no end to the amount of preparation that could be done. Towers could be built higher. Stockpiles could be laid deeper. And siegeworks too could be constructed well in advance.

An attacking army would naturally try to burrow beneath a castle's walls, sapping the foundation as the earth itself betrayed it. There was nothing that prevented a castle's defenders from doing the same. Miles of defensive tunnels could be built below a castle, a human ant warren, and when the enemy sappers dug close then countersappers could dig through and slaughter them. It took only an awareness of the threat to start the counter-miners moving, the dark industry of her fortress turned to removing the underground as a valid front for attack.

And that settled things, as far as she was concerned. The threat had been identified and responded to. More time had been purchased, and that time could be spent improving and fortifying the castle further. The enemy would still need to attack here eventually and so there was no need to go out and meet them. She expressed as much to Saber by putting her hand on Katherine's shoulder possessively (she had to reach up to do so) and snarling. They weren't going anywhere.

Ok, is it honesty time? I think it needs to be honesty time. There's a whole bunch I do not know about the mechanics of what is going on here. I've said a bunch of stuff right about this or that or this other thing, about Servants and Classes and the nature of a Sunshard War and all other things. And the truth is?

I mean, I didn't make it all up. When I caught on to everything that was going on I, ok well hold on a second. There's still some stuff I shouldn't say, mostly about why I'm here telling you this story and how I wound up in that position. We're not ready for that and bein' honest (it's honesty time after all) I don't think it much matters either. Anyway. I found what I could. I did some reading in the time I had, but when the world gives its level best shot at endin' sooner or later it's either know what's happening or why and how. And I chose what, in the end.

So that's to say, I worry I might've come across as an expert of sorts till now. And I'm not. And that's, like, really important 'cause I know you're expecting me to explain why Berserker won't budge on this or exactly what possessed Saber to decide the best thing she could do is snarl back and then pivot on her heel and disappear down a trap door all by herself. I don't know. I've got no idea why it had to be this way, I just know when I see Kat's little heart breaking.

"No Miss Saber! Please don't... go."

It's already too late when she says it. Her voice breaks and drops down to a whisper. Berserker doesn't let go. Kat hangs her head in shame and defeat. All that enthusiasm and the thrill of the chase and the crime and everything else just drained right out of her and replaced with, well. I may not know what makes a Servant tick internally like, but I know how my little Katherine works.

It's not just that she thought she was getting a treat and suddenly having it taken away. Though that was in there too obviously. But it's also, that sense that she was failing some kind of test? She had a model for what a hero looked like and it looked way more like Saber than her own Berserker. Not only was she failing to live up to that model right now, in a moment where she was more convinced than ever she wanted to be the one doin' it, going in and saving the day and maybe someday getting to reference The Wandering Tales of Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits, she also felt guilty that she couldn't connect to the spirit who had come and bonded to her when she called to them. To find herself opposed to the one she was supposed to be supporting, that stung a lot. It felt like failing on every front it was possible to fail on, all at once.

She sniffles. And when she sniffles it doesn't take her very long before she's broken down into full on sobbing. And once she's crying so hard her voice doesn't work anymore, that's when she needs a hug. Kat spins on the spot in the space taken up by a sewing needle and all of a sudden the growling knight in full dressy armor and lord (lady? how does this work??) of however many hundred castles has gone from snatching at this foxgirl's shoulder to awkwardly standing there with a face buried against her neck and a whole mess of minty green hair spilling all over everywhere. What's an ancient warrior resurrected from beyond the beyond of ancient history supposed to do? Her arms automatically close around Kat's back. I wouldn't call it tender, not exactly, but it's one of those things where it turns out everybody's a person before they are themselves or their curses. Y'know?

They stand there together a while. Not a long while, but a minute or two where there's nothing but the sounds of Kat's slowly descending spiral of hiccoughs and undignified snorts and the distance-muted goings-on of a castle turning nature into war stuff. Berserker never speaks, s'far as I know she can't actually manage that in the state she's been summoned in, and Kat can't put her breathing right for even a second to push out an understandable sound.

"Why?"

It takes her six or seven tries to get that one word to come out right, and then that's it for a little bit. That word and her big, plaintive eyes are her contribution to the conversation. The moment, I guess, or maybe the cause. Come on, Katherine. Don't shrink away from the moment now. Saving the world's one thing, but this is where you save yourself, ok?.

"She... she never should've lost to me! She was so strong, Miss Saber was so..! But I fought her, me! And I won! And, and, and and and and and it's 'cause! It's 'cause! I made her promise to!! And she kept her promise even though she had no reason to and we weren't friends and she still did it! And now she's tryin'a keep her other stupid promise I made her give me 'cause I'm a dumb stupid selfish jerk and and and and and and I couldn't! Be satisfied with just one! I wanted to impress Cy! And Actia! Oh Berserker, she's gonna!!!!"

You would think that all Berserkers could really do is rage, right? It's there in the name. And remember, I read up a bit but I'm no master of lore here. I've got no idea if this is a miracle or a fluke or a coincidence or a, uh, y'know a reflex or what. But she doesn't fly off the handle and smash anything. She doesn't fortify her castle or seal off her tunnels in response to casting out the foreign intruder. She doesn't even snarl. What she does is take her gauntleted hand and pat Katherine across the back with it. Our skinny little sweetheart stumbles a bit from the power of that gesture, but the thought is there. It's almost like havin' a big sister.

You're gonna have to trust me on that one.

"I want. I want to go after her, Berserker. Please, please let me go. It's... s'not about foxgirl schemes ok? S'not! I just, I've been standin' and watchin' amazin' people do amazin' things my whole life! And they're all so brave and pretty and cool and why? How come? How come when it's my turn I'm just standin' to the side and lettin' everyone do all the work for me again? Why can't I be the hero, too? Why'm I not good enough, Miss Berserker? I know you know too! You're such a good person. You were someone's hero once too, right? But you never seem to wanna be like a Princess or a Handmaiden or a Demon Swordswoman or anything.

"I... I know we haven't always gotten along. But still. You were the one who answered me when I called. We're, we were meant for each other, right? So does? Does that mean? I-I-I-I'm not meant to be a hero either? O-o-or. D-does it mean somewhere deep down, you still wanna shine bright too? Please, Berserker. Please tell me. Please..."

Well, that's a good question. Is there a hero inside of you, Berserker?