Was there a hero inside of her?

She couldn't feel it. When she looked inside herself what she could feel was the distance to the next castle. She could sense the stores and provisions laid up inside, the status of the walls, the number of horses, the taxation to be extracted. She could feel the farmlands overseen by her fortresses, the movements of her tax collectors, just as clearly as she could feel the command PLEASE DON'T TAKE MRS. RUTLIDGES CROPS BERSERKER SHE NEEDS THOSE where it was seared onto her soul. And, if she looked deeper, she could feel - hear - hatred.

The hatred of generations bought under the yoke. Of kingdoms dissolved, crowns melted down, languages eroded, curses in the form of ten thousand folk songs damning her and her inheritors. Each time she struggled to find the goodness in her heart, something she could believe in, the cacophony began to rise. Her enemies had made their opposition known in verse and there was no argument with them. She tried to draw on the memory of her holy sword and all she heard was the sawing of fiddle-bows cutting away at her mind. Her kingdom had been a mistake. Its survival a curse. If she was the origin of it then all the more share of curses for her.

She grasped her helmet so tightly the metal bent. She fell to the ground and pressed her head against the ground. She felt the hatred flow like a river and the shape of Berserker held her mind open to take it all in. She had thought her banner proud; now she felt the dread of everyone who had seen it. She had thought her chivalry respected; now she felt the wrath that had risen up behind her daughter. She clawed at the stone with her fingertips and found only that it tore the shape of a new wall. She tried to break it with her fists, with her teeth, with her skull but it only grew stronger. There was no mercy. No mercy for her. She...

No mercy for her.

Berserker strained against the rush of the music, finding the flicker of calm amidst the torrent. "What." she rasped out loud, following the shape of the peace. She did not know what the words were, only that if she strayed from their shape agony awaited. "Is." Each sound was felt out, unfamiliar, piece by piece. "The." This too felt like a memory of a sword, but...? "Treasure." She coughed, feeling razor sharpness on her tongue. "Of." The sharpness blossomed, and then blossomed into fire. "A." She pressed on, fingers sinking deeper and deeper into the iron of her face mask. "Castle?"

With a final roar she ripped it from her eyes.

"A. Princess." said Berserker, and these words came easily, and as sweet as the rain.

No one cursed princesses. Every folk story made allowances for them, and their hearts. They repaid the world for that with kindness.

Berserker sheltered behind the sword-shaped clarity of that revelation. Not enough for more words than this, but enough for her to draw her sword and drop to one knee before her Master - her Princess. In her shadow then even a wicked knight could become a hero.

The tears just wouldn't stop streaming down Kat's face, only the meaning of them had shifted. She stands there, one hand clasped over her mouth and the other half twisted out to stop Berserker from hurting herself before she'd put it together that she was doing the exact opposite, listening to her Servant's voice for the very first time and feeling her heart burst from the sheer beauty of it. She's also (not that it matters) redder in the cheeks than a rose.

Yeah she asked the question, but what pure hearted maiden would be ready for the answer? Kat knew a lot of things a body could grow up to be, but this is her first time bein' face to face with an actual, no-fooling knight. She can feel her knees going wobbly underneath her, but she doesn't dare let them drag her to the ground.

"What? I'm not," she catches herself in the nick of time, "I mean... no. Of course. I-if it's for you, Berserker. I'll be your princess."

She's very careful to pronounce the lower-case p, at least. Some dreams are too beautiful to risk letting them get one the wrong end of an over excited Qiu. Katherine offers her hand to Berserker to help her pull herself up and touches the back of that hand to her lips after, right on the spot where her Command Seals ought to be. And how funny a feeling it is, the double swooping inside her stomach. The thrill of a girl finding her first crush. The guilt of needing this long to figure out how to be a good Master.

If only she could take back those orders. If only she'd known the right way to navigate those situations without needing them. Back in the fight in Miss Saber's giant evil robot thingy, she'd watched her use a Command Seal in a really weird way. What was it again? 'I order myself, survive this'? Or something like that? Neverminding how she'd managed to wind up with her own Master's seals, she'd taken that power and used it to give herself a lift. She wishes she could do something like that for Berserker. Claim victory! Or, or be the very bestest knight you can be!

But all she can give her beautiful Servant is a shy, sweet smile. A smile that turns a little bit sweeter and a whole lot shyer when she realizes she's looking at Berserker's face for the first time without that horrible helmet's facemask covering it up. And she's beautiful. A stern and boyish kind of beautiful that begs to be dressed up in a crisp black suit and sent to the ball with a besotted foxgirl draped across her arm. Did she think this was a crush before? Oh goshies.

"C-c-come on then. M-my knight," she stammers, "We cant' let. Uh. S-Saber steal the show from us!"

What a shame that there's no time for kissing here. Or for courtly ceremonies and pep talks and poems or even just assurances that nothin' about the past really matters anymore if what you do in the here and now is shining and beautiful and good. Y'know? Unfortunately, there really is a crisis going on and Saber really is probably going to get herself killed without the help of a plucky young princess and her dark knight. Not to mention Miss Rider and Cy and Actia and Angelesia and what's-her-monk and wow this is a big group at this point, isn't? It's a lot to keep track of.

Kat offers Berserker her hand again and clutches the cold gauntlet tight in her delicate, slender fingers. A good princess needs an adventure like a foxgirl needs a heist, and wouldn't you know it there's both of those things waiting for her in the tunnels just underneath this castle. Their steps are slow to start, but before long the pair of 'em have broken out into a run that feels so good Kat has to bite her lip to keep herself from wooping. Stealth's important too, ok?

"I'm never gonna forget this. I promise. Never ever ever. At the end of this... i-it's you and me. Ok, Berserker? You. And me."

"Honestly, a feeble attempt," said Lancer. "Perhaps one day my Rome might have conquered the East as well."
"Hnnrgghhh..." rasped Rider, heart pierced by Lancer's spear. She was whispering something, words almost audible above...
"Ha!" laughed Lancer. "Do you take me for a simpleton? Whispering something enigmatic to get me to lean in close and enter the range of your fangs?" She swung her spear in an arc, smashing Rider hard into the ground, fracturing the stone. "No, Rider. I know how to kill a snake."
"You... do," she admitted. "But I know... that nobody in this new world would have resisted leaning in close."
"Truly?" said Lancer. "Well, doesn't that speak poorly of this world?"
Rider laughed, but there was a mocking air to it. Julia's brow darkened.
"You think otherwise?" she said. "More fool you! What we witness here is simply another dark age. The centralized state of yesteryear has collapsed, and in its place has arisen a world of petty warlords, monarchists and the barbaric rule of the strong. Progress has stopped, civilization has regressed, and the people shiver beneath monuments they no longer possess the ability to build. I fought to prevent a world like this, fought for an eternal Rome which could direct the productive forces of humanity towards a truly magnificent end!" She raised her fist to the sky, blotting out the stars. "The Gods themselves would watch our works with awe!"
"Which... works would those be?" rasped Rider.
Julia snorted and flicked her hand imperiously over her shoulder. "Anything we set our mind to. Once we have the capability, all things would become possible."
"Sounds like heaven," said Rider laconically. "I can't wait to see it."
"My heaven," said Lancer, "is not for the likes of you."
And she drew forth her spear and struck off Rider's head.

*

Beneath the earth, ancient machinery boils to life.

It begins with the lights, blue and cold, sterile in a place that has long lost its sterility. The lights burn harshly against the leaves of the subterranean rainforest - first, burning their leaves back, and then choking as the leaves grow back tenfold. In the distance massive gears begin to turn, old machines begin to rumble, and dispatch begins routing service droids down the endless sprawling corridors of the Burrower civilization. Each task is observed and paid for, the invisible seams of money creaking and groaning to life as long-dead corporations trade in the night. Not one of them will resurrect their civilization for free.

But there is enough new power moving through the system to make them think that they will all get paid.

"Eugh, what is that smell? Are these your tunnels, Miss - I mean Lady - I mean Sir? Berserker. No? They're not? Then these have just been all the way down here the entire time? Oh gross this must be where the demons live. Oh ew ew ew ew ew."

"...I hope Miss Saber is ok. Huh? No I know she's super tough. No I know she's probably up to something sneaky! No I-- well ok fair point. But still. The whole reason I thought I could trust her in the first place was 'cause've how much she seemed to love the sky and the trees when we fought her the first time. I think this might make her sick."

"...Berserker I don't like it down here. Everything smells like, like... like math. Really big numbers, y'know? The kind no one has any use for. It's dusty. Like Capitalism! I think that's what Hyra called it. Cy says it's what foxnip smells like but I... hope not. I really, I don't. I don't like it."

"Hey. Am I-- Am I a bad fox?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

"...Oh thank goshies I think I see her. Ok quiet like, now. Miss Saber? Is that you? We came, see? How can we help?"

"I am not your Saber," said the old man by the fire.

The depths of the rainforest were closing in tight. Veins of digital blue ran through the leaves and down into the roots. The insects that buzzed had glittering blue LED lights for eyes, and in the jaws of the panther that waited in the dark cost/benefit analysis dripped like saliva. The fire was small, and weak, and barely seemed to warm the old man, but he expected no better of it.

"I don't like it down here either," said Caster, beard like a spent stormcloud. "But I am not surprised. Are you? After all, it doesn't take many people to build a place like this. The strength, the intelligence, the sweat - everything required to measure, carve and dig is easy to acquire. The Earth, too, is a willing participant. She has always been ready to eat her children when they are offered to her. Come, sit by the fire with me. You must be hungry too."

Katherine blinks. She does not otherwise reply. After a moment she blinks again, this time rapidly.

She hangs her head.

"Dang it," she murmurs, "Dang it."

She turns and makes a motion to restrain Berserker. Her Servant simply stands in place with her arms planted on the cross guard of her sword. The two stare at each other for a moment. Katherine shrugs.

"Um. No. No thank you, I mean, I'm not really hungry. But we can, y'know, talk for a bit. If that'd make you happy. And if you don't mind me standin' here. Not that I don't trust you, mind. I just..."

Her eyes trace over the darkness and the unnatural motes of light hiding unknown creatures in the murk. Katherine shrugs again, and tries to stick her hands in her pockets. Her skirt doesn't have any. She wraps her hands behind her neck, instead.

"Say," she says, "Did you forget to sing to your fire, Mister? It looks really sad."

"Yu-- sorry, you don't know her, my best friend swears by that technique. She even sings to the wood before she lights it. Says a bit of joy sparks three times brighter than the best kindlin' you could ask for. And she, oh right first of all she's a sun farmer see? Carries jars full've the stuff with her wherever she goes. So she's an expert on light and warmth and stuff.

"People do make fun of her I guess. But I dunno. I don't think she'd agree with all that stuff about the earth bein' ready to eat us, and I can't say as I do either. 'Cause like, how to put it? Her campfires are so pretty and nice that animals'll just come and sit next to her while she's cookin' stuff on 'em. And yours is... honestly Mister, I think your fire might be crying."

Caster nodded slowly. "Ah yes. Young fires, fresh from the sun. Of course they're joyful, being new to this world. I do not resent them for it."

He dropped a heavy stick onto his fire; it flicked low, half-smothered, as the tendrils tried to reach up and into the wood.

"But this is an old fire," said Caster. "And it remembers what it was used to do."

He ran his hands through his hair. "I was there when it all began, you know? Not when man invented fire, but when he learned to flay it. It became possible to carve away the heat and the smoke and get to fire's purest essence, the raw force of it. We thought that we were purifying it, removing the choking ash and the corpses of fossilized trees, letting it free into the world to shine as beautiful as reason. But, as you observe, we'd also cut away the warmth of it. I lived long enough to see a world where fire no longer breathed, where it ran through the world as a corpse. That's why I'm not surprised by this place. Like a single seed grows into a tangled seringueira, so every corridor and pit here was contained within the spark we used to illuminate the world."

"Oh, uh. Sure? That makes sense. Yeah."

Katherine turns to Berserker and shakes her head. She does not bother to disguise her feelings on the matter.

"Happy for you, though. Or sorry that happened. Or uh, y'know yeah."

Her expression in this moment is as helpless as it is hapless. She takes a single step forward closer to the light. She eyes the technomantic creatures in the shadows with wary readiness, and swallows her fear. Literally. Her attempts to polite and delicate about it are a failure.

"You uh, sorry for makin' assumptions I guess you could be a regular old ghost or somethin' but, you heroic spirits really are all cut from the same cloth huh? What gets you guys so stuck on what stuff used to be like? How 'bout what things are like now? Y'know? Like, hardly anyone lives down here anymore. We're all up top, with those happy fires and the sunshine and all. I mean, I guess my, uh? I guess she'd sorta technicamally be my aunt? Big big sister? Iono. Adopted, see. But yeah. She spent a good long while livin' in the underworld or whatever after she got grabbed up by some demons but she's a Princess now. So that worked out ok. Right?

"I mean I'm not sayin' it's paradise out under the sky. There's all kindsa jerks and even really nice people make mistakes sometimes too. Like, there's this one girl I know? Nicest little thing you've ever met. But she got in a fight with her moms and next thing y'know? She goes and frees all the foxgirls from Cutie Fox Island!"

She coughs.

"And look how that turned out. Haha. Ha. I mean. Look. What I'm tryin' to say here is, if you don't like it down here then... why come? Why hunch over there and brood when you could go for a run outside and feel the wind in your hair and just feel better? What's so darn important that you've gotta kill for it? I-if that's what you're doin' down here. Sorry. Assumptions again. I just figure you're the one Miss Saber was talkin' about. Where did she go, anyway? Did you happen to see her around? Is she safe, do you know?"

Katherine's eyes are full of curiosity and concern. Her mouth is full of questions. And while she lets these things out, she creeps closer to the fire. She bends down on one knee to pluck the large stick that Caster had just tossed back out of the pit.

Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits is not Yue, for all that she looks up to her caretaker. She does not speak the language of fire. Or of wood. Neither metal. She barely even speaks fox, or at least in the darker moments in her head it feels that way. So she doesn't know the words she should be using here if she were and if she did. But she does understand the sentiment well enough.

If you have burned so long and so thanklessly, so joylessly, little fire... it's ok. You don't have to anymore. You can be what you want to, now. Even if that's nothing.

(psst! hey again! it's me, I caught up! Sorry about the weirdness, it's just real hard to follow along in a spooky tunnel without the people you're watching catching you. But it's all right. We can do this normal-like again <3)

"What things are like now..." the old man gently, quietly laughed. "Little fox, did you think that the people who built this place died? Were they struck down by God for their sins? There is no used to be, Katherine - they are. Out there, beyond the sky you shelter under. They took all they could from this world and they left, to find more worlds to take from, and they take still. One day they will squeeze the galaxy so dry that even what little they left behind here will begin to look appealing. Then they will all come back."

He threw a handful of leaves on his weary little fire. It couldn't help itself. It sighed, and burned brighter. Sparks of it reached up to lap hungrily at the stick that Katherine had just pulled from its clutches, scrabbling at the edge of the pit with a sad yearning.

"Even we came back, after all. To this world that buried us so long ago."

He slumped backwards, seemingly exhausted by the effort. "I don't know where your Saber is. Perhaps lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. Perhaps getting a head start on running from Lancer. It doesn't matter. Together or alone, Lancer will finish the Servants and get her wish. If you have any power at all, it is to beg her to choose a different one."

"Oh nuts to that, I'm gonna-- hey, hey! Quit that! I said knock! That! Off!"

Kat does the firs thing that springs to her mind. The only thing that makes sense to do in a situation like this, really. She takes her not-quite-on-fire stick and bops the ancient spirit of a philosopher king over the head with it. Once for each syllable! This is what scholars refer to as 'the spirit of debate'!

"Quit it quit it quit it! How's this poor little fire supposed to change anything about itself if you keep egging it on? The poor thing! Like, I just, what? Are you doing this just to win an argument with a foxgirl? Don't even bother, Cutie Law is on my side! They don't call me Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits, esquire for nothin' y'know!"

She crosses her arms and pouts her best pout, careful to take an extra step away from the fire to keep this super delicious yummy tempting stick away for its poor sinner's flames. Hey that's kind've a cool turn of phrase, isn't it? You think I could be a writer some day? Maybe? A poet, at least? Wait, what d'you mean, what do I mean 'at least'? Everybody knows the order from most respected to least goes manga artist, essayist, novelist, a really shiny beetle, forum poster, and then poet! That is just science, look it up. Hmph!

Anyway this is yet another delicate needle for little Kat to thread. Seems like Servants love their delicate needles, don't they? I guess the pressures of the ancient textile industry were no joke. But whatever she decided to do here, it's important she not forget she's on the clock for a Foxgirl Scheme right now. If Caster didn't know where Saber was, that meant the heist was still on!

"Ok ok ok ok ok ok ok. Ok. I don't wanna be mean, ok? So I'm not gonna do the thing where I pick apart your argument line by line and tell you how you're wrong. You are wrong but it doesn't matter. So let's say you're right, mmk? Let's say, for the sake of argument, the Burrowers are all up above the sky somewhere telling each other awful jokes and buildin' stuff that smells as gross as this tunnel. All right? Is that fine! You're so right, Grandpa Caster! Somewhere way above the clouds wherever the stars're hidin' there's a buncha jerks. That's a catamagorigical, undeniable fact."

For the record? They really did all die up there sometime after they left. I'm sure it's got nothing to do with punishment so much as regular old age or bad luck, but if they didn't all kick it then they definitely saw the error of their ways, 'cause all their money came back this way a hot minute ago. If you don't already know about it you're just gonna have to trust me on that. It's way too much trouble to explain. But like Kat says that's not really important, so let's move on with an adorable little nod and a fiery sniff from our lovely heroine.

"And they're definitely definitely definitely gonna come back here, too. And when they do, let's even say there's nothin' anyone livin' on our happy lil' planet can do about it. They're all, I dunno, robot wolfgirls taller than Miss Saber or somethin'. Mechanical bodies and eyes that shoot lasers and sword skills so shiny that even Princess Qiu can't stand up to 'em. I doubt that, but sure. 'Cause that's not the problem really is it? I'm like, 'how about thinkin' about the way stuff is now?' and you go and tell me 'oh gee miss Katherine, your tails are the fluffiest and the softestest and I just love the cool minty thing with your hair! Who's your stylist? Oh but actually never mind about that 'cause the future's sooooooooooooo bad, boo hoo!' Right???"

For the record, Kat's Caster impression is... not flattering. She can't do deep voices to save her life so she just kind of sounds likea city person's idea of a bear with a mouth just stuffed full of peanut butter. One who just escaped from a room full of helium. I'm just saying, if he can find the note of accuracy in there then he really is a magician.

"Literally! Why does that matter? That's like a billion years from now! How many kids are gonna grow up playin' in the fields without a clue about all that stuff a'fore it happens? How many happy campfires're gonna spring up and get washed away? How many maidens'll kiss over crossed swords and go start families together before they get squished by a big sky boat or whatever? Like, infinity? You're not gonna tell me with a straight face those people and their happiness don't matter, are you? Holy crackers dude, that's messed up!"

Kat huffs her most dramatic little sigh and shakes her head to bounce that pretty hair of hers to maximum effect. She shrugs as best she can while still holding a stick that's twice as thick around as her arms, and pats the axe still hugging her waist with affection.

"Anyway nah. Nah, nopers and nuh uh. I'm sorry you got stuck with a jerkball of a Master who gave you depression but I am not gonna stand around waitin' for little miss failed pizza restaurateur to wipe out all of history so nobody finds out she tripped on stage at the talent show and flashed her panties in front of the whole class or... whatever her problem is. If either one of you wanted to do anything, like literally anythin' to help out people who were maybe still struggling despite how cool and pretty and sunny the world is then maybe I could get talked around but you're not! You're just doomers. I'm beggin' ya gramps, just go fly a kite. Paint a painting or go eat at a really nice diner! Go see a concert! Ys has all sortsa stuff like that! If you're done with our world then just... chill! Just go hang out and wait all quiet like to get proved right. You can even come say I toldja so after, but quit tryin'a mess it up faster!"

She puffs her chest out in equal parts pride and defiance, only deflating a little when she sees the odd tilt of Berserker's head.

"Oh for, no come on Berserker not you too! I don't wanna go over this again! Yes ok fine, I know how to pronounce my g's! It's just easier not to most've the time. I'm not doin' a bit! I'm not! I swear I'm not, and you're Yueing me! That's not how I wanna get compared to her, darn it!"

Heh. What a Fluffybiscuit. But don't worry, Kat. I think I see your fortunes changing. You've just gotta hang in there a teeny bit longer, ok?

"Fine then!" said Caster. "You believe this place is a paradise? I did not wish to break your illusion and your heart, but you leave me no choice. Let us put it to the test! Master! Adam! I will ask you again the questions I had when I was summoned: Is the government better or worse than it was in my time?"
The blue lights running through the rainforest flashed brighter. "Worse." It said in a dozen cool, emotionless and heartless voices.
"Is the world more or less prosperous?"
"Less," said the voice of Adam.
"Has suffering increased or decreased from my time?"
"Increased."
"You see?" said Caster. "Adam is an ancient machine built to quantify and measure every aspect of the universe. His calculations are comprehensive and complete, and my magic sees no deceit in him. As soon as I was summoned I sought his opinion and he told me the truth, and I knew all my fears had come to pass. Because I did spend my entire mortal life helping the people of Brazil. I ended slavery. I built a public education system that spread literacy to the poorest and most vulnerable. I slew a dictator, established the arts, and transformed a backwater into a prosperous nation. I spent my life in service to a utopia and, at the end, saw it dissolve in an instant when the whims of the greedy saw profit in ending it. I am sorry, child, but I cannot accept your rebuke as anything other than naivety, and your heaven as more than a fallen version of my own. Question Adam if you must, if you still have the heart to hear all the terrible details about how this world has fallen, but it will bring me no joy to see the scales fall from your eyes too."

Ok in my defense? I didn't mean I saw her fortunes changing immediately. Also I'm not a fortune teller. If I was I'd have made a more specific prediction, like Saber appearing at the edge of the corridor dragging the sunshard behind her. And also is this your card? Wait. It's not? Really?

Dang it!

Eh, figures. I'm gonna get Hyra to show me the trick to this one again. I'll try again later, ok? Anyway I don't see Saber anywhere from here. Whatever she disappeared down here to do she's very clearly counting on Kat to handle Caster. Which is a bit of a shame because while Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits is very good at spitting sparks until somebody's heart feels warm, she's got no practice at all arguing with superintelligent robots.

Plus, she left her glasses at home. Not that she needs them to see? Actually there aren't any lenses in the frames at all. But she says they make her smarter, and who's going to argue with that? Nobody I know. But setting that aside, right now Kat's got an expression like someone just told her the Birthday Fairy isn't real and won't be leaving presents for her under the Birthday Tree. Our world is... worse? In every way? And oh goshies, oh no! People are suffering and don't even know it!

Kat rubs at her eyes. Part to cover up the tears she can feel welling in them, and part to try and get those scales out of her eyes. Dragon scales, she assumes. Maybe Qiu put them there to punish her for being a bad girl.

"Well, um. That all sounds really bad but. I just, mmmrgh~"

She squishes her head between her hands and musses up her pretty hair to help her focus. This is the kind of thing that doesn't come natural to foxgirls; she knows the argument she has to make but it's contradictory to everything she stands for to make the argument that she isn't long suffering, actually. That she gets lots of tasty meals, that not getting snacks every time she wants them isn't the same thing as torture, and that it isn't all that big a deal that somebody beat her PB in Pretty Soldier Valis VI last week or that she's going to struggle to take it back because she's only allowed 3 hours of screen time a day and the run's about that long to begin with. It's as much a part of who she is as her fluffy tails to hope for more, even when she's happy. It's already enough of a problem for her standing among foxgirls that she is happy with her lot in life but if she admits it, that's just game over.

Even still. Even still! The world is depending on her to defend it. And at the end of the day she is prepared to make the argument that saving snacktime for everyone when it's under threat of disappearing is as big of a heist as any foxgirl has ever pulled. It's just a shame she doesn't have a stack of papers she could straighten right now. Or a desk to tap them against. It'd help a lot.

"In my whole life, I've nnnnnnnnnnever been hungry. And I've never seen anyone go hungry, either. I mean I haven't been to see every single part of the world? But everywhere I know there's all sorts of shrines along the roads where you can stop and have a tasty meal if you need it. Or if you've got too much to carry you leave some spare instead. I've never once seen 'em empty. There's so many beautiful places to go and sit I dunno how you'd ever get bored. But if you did, most towns and cities have free movie nights at least once a month, y'know? Even the teeny lil' place I grew up had anime night! We play guess the music and gossip about who the most kissable girls are and it's great.

"And I mean! How about headpats for good girls? I bet that's a stat that's way, way up! Super fun slumber parties? Types of popcorn! I think you'll find all of the stuff that matters is really nice. Maybe we're not perfect, but just about everybody checks the Daily Affirmation of the Way <3, and the sun always just knows when to set or when to rise to make a moment perfect. There's dance offs and sword fights and princesses! And Princesses! I mean how can you? How, y'know.

"How can you say all of that is bad? What could we possibly be failing at?"

"Starting with the government," said Adam with the smooth flow of someone who had prepared every word that they were saying well in advance and without a single thought as to how their opponent might argue. "Things have descended into post-apocalyptic tribal warlordism. A cluster of competing chieftains engage in constant low-level warfare over control of resources but their authority is so weak they can hardly muster a hundred or so soldiers between them. Mechanisms for taxation are non-existent, leaving the - strangely large and bloated given the circumstances - civil service to subsist on occasional largess from the warlords and charitable donations. Speaking of donations, an entire parallel monastic society exists with its own hierarchy that further undermines even the limited authority of the warlords. Despite this state of anarchy, both the government and the church is incredibly interventionist and restrictive in both commercial and private matters."

"And that leads us in to the economy," the Machine continued, flow modeled on the speech patterns of the greatest gish-gallop politicos of its day. "Which is a shambles. Due to spectacular deflation and a gini coefficient nearing one, the economy is entirely uncapitalised. Worse than that, records keeping is primitive due to an irrational superstition about technology; almost all exchange is done on the basis of favours owed, and then these favours are forgotten, leading to vast and constant losses of wealth. Despite significant mechanization in agriculture and transportation, land consolidation has largely not taken place leading to the rise of a vast demographic of barely solvent subsistence farmers, whom accrue almost zero wealth over time due to their culture-bounded habit of donating most of their surplus to government or religious organizations. The population is tiny and also barely at replacement rate. Worst of all, property values are effectively zero. All of these things together represent an effectively zero-growth economy."

"Finally, technology," there was no variation in its flow, just a constant waterfall of words with no way to get a word in edgewise. "Basic technological education is worse than nil, children are actively indoctrinated into a luddite ideology where they must treat even basic conveniences with suspicion. The only innovations are done by a specialized caste of scavengers, who do not so much advance the sciences as pick over the ruins of more enlightened ages. Everywhere the wreckage of civilization-altering infrastructure is freely available and actively shunned by people, government and church organizations. And, shockingly, this state of affairs coexists with universal literacy and strong, if flawed, public education institutions. This all just serves to underline how deeply the anti-growth ideology has embedded itself."

"This world is impoverished," concluded the artificial intelligence. "Economic growth is at near zero levels, strangled by ideology, government red tape, lack of economic freedoms, statism and an absence of the rule of law. This world has more absolutist government than a totalitarian communist state, and is at the same time more disorganized than a pre-contact tribe of subsistence hunters."

"Well to be fair-"

"No I mean Princesses don't-"

"That's not the point of-"

"Wh-what's so bad about-"

"The fluff is a genie koi fish?"

"Ok hold on just a se-"

"Property values?!"

"My phone literally just two hours ago tried to-!"

"I dunno if technomancers are really-"

"Well like what kinda good would it-"

"Could I please just?"

"Why won't you let me?"

"I just!"

"I!!!"

This is painful. This is worse than painful, honestly, it's outright cruel. This whole evil stream spoken so matter of factly, so authoritative and statistical and fancy, when all she had in her head was funny stories about stuff she saw on a few fun trips she took. She didn't think she was wrong but, she'd already said a bunch of those and all Caster had done was invoke his robo-lawyer. Which was now burying her in the indisputable facts and logic of a civilization that frankly most people did kinda assume was smarter than ours. I mean, they did build all that neat looking stuff you see lying around everywhere. But then again they didn't shoot down the suns, didn't even think to try. Plus they all shot off into space and, y'know, died. So how smart could they really be?

But Kat's not really in a spot to think about it like that. In fact, she's lost this battle outright because instead of coming up with a clever counterargument she's just sniffling and holding an arm up to cover her eyes. No matter how obvious she might be about it, she doesn't want Berserker to see her cry. But just, dang it! Dang it! It didn't even let her get a turn! Cutie Law at least is real clear that it's not fair to just make all your arguments at once.

"I don't agree! I, I object! You're sayin' all this stuff but it's just... it isn't right! How is it a bad thing to share food when you've got extra? You're actin' like that hurts somebody! And you didn't answer my question about headpats. You just, you can't, you aren't... serious, are you? Princesses are bad? But they, but they! And, and! You're not... th-there's naps on sunny afternoons and, and, pretty girls' smiles reflected in a teacup and and and and, and! And! Singin' to the moon with a cup of juice, and foxgirl schemes, and swordfights and dragons and magic castles in the sky! A-are you?

"Y-you can't mean... n-n-n-n-nobody actually likes those things? I-i-it's just. Just. J-just. Just 'cause? Just 'cause we're too dumb and poor and bad?"

Kat curls her toes inside her shoes. I know this 'cause that's her trick for not sobbing like a little kit when something's really upsetting her. Actia'd have some horrible and awe inspiring trick here that'd reprogram Adam to say what she needed and use that to manipulate Caster. Cyanis'd see the angles, if nothing else, and set to work immediately running scams off the back of what she'd just heard. Whether either of them would succeed doesn't really enter the equation here. The point is, other "better" foxgirls would know how to grasp. They wouldn't cry like this. Or if they did it would be part of a master heist plan.

Kat does not have a master heist plan. She doesn't know to turn any of this machine's words to her benefit. She just knows she loves the place she lives, loves the people she lives with, and loves the world that gave her the adventure that made her biggest secret dream come true. And even though she loves them so much, everything she can think to say is just empty, stupid fluff. Those blinking lights don't even care. She is losing.

All that she's got left to cling to is that little promise she made herself inside her fluffy little heart when Berserker pulled her helmet off for her sake. That she'd be a princess worthy of her knight's devotion. And it's not that princesses never bawl their eyes out, but I've had it on good authority from somewhere that 'a princess must always be beautiful'. She wants to be brave and strong. She wants to save the world. She wants so, so badly to at least save face here that instead of giving into her tears she's just constantly rubbing at her eyes with her forearm and making these heartbreaking choking noises.

And I for one can't stand it.

Kat's brave and desperate struggle turns into an undignified 'yeep!' when an arrow suddenly clatters off of the ceiling and jabs itself into the ground a little bit in front of her. Mercifully, not quite all the way to the fire. With a mighty hiccup, she looks up from her arm to see something fluttering from the end of it, beckoning her hand. She pulls it loose, unfurls it, and gasps.

It's a flyer for the Dumping Festival being held at the Terraced Lake. All week, didja know? She sniffles bravely, and clutches that beautiful piece of paper to her chest. In those big wet eyes of hers, a little spark is igniting once more.

"Um?" she ums, not sure how else to get the attention back onto her.

...What? Oh please, like you'd do any better than me listening to your precious girl make a sound like that. It's just a tiny nudge, all right? She's got the rest.

"Where did that come from?" said Caster.
"It did not come from anywhere," informed Adam.
"That is evidently an arrow," said the old man. "And a note. And no spell of mine nor sensor of yours detected its arrival."
"No doubt some final trick of Assassin's," said the computer. "But disrupted by my warding hyperplex. Sensor readings are conclusive: it does not truly exist. Disregard as a reality glitch."
"A reality glitch?" said Caster.
"Yes. Reality functions much like a computer, and occasional cosmic radiation can cause the misallocation of certain assets. Long range sensors have detected moments like this on several occasions recently but there is no coherent pattern. As I just finished saying to Ms. Fluffybiscuits, the plural of anecdote is not in fact data. This must be analyzed statistically, and statistically it is meaningless."
"All the same, I would like to see if there is a magical solution here you are unaware of," said Caster, getting to his feet.
"Magic is merely an extension of physical law, and should not be -"
"What have you got there, young fox?" said Caster, cutting across Adam before he could start the next stage of his speech.

"Oh, um, it's, uh."

Kat's hands are still shaking, just a little bit. Her eyes are still watery, more than just a little bit. Her sniffles are still sniffly, though at the least they're very brave sniffles now. Beautiful too, just like a princess. She turns the paper around to show Caster, glances down, and smooths the poor scrunched-up thing out against her tummy real quick before holding it up a second time.

"You... ever hear of the Dumping Festival?"

"Surely you mean the D--"

"Nuh uh, I mean the Dumping Festival. Though funny enough they do have dumplings there? Kind of a little joke. But um, yeah. See it's this thing they do at the Terraced Lake, or what my mo-- I mean my sis-- I mean my owne-- I mean my, uh, my roommate? C-c-c-can I just call her Yue? Please? A-a-anyway she 'n I just call it The City 'cause we live in a little cottage up the way and till just a little while ago there wasn't much cause to go adventurin' or whatever so all we really had was just the one city. Y'know? Like obviously there's other ones but for someone who only ever really hiked between the high hills to farm sunlight and pluck tea leaves and harvest berries and whatnot it's about as much City as you can really picture in the world. Right? Right??"

She clears her throat, feeling a blush coming on. On the plus side, she's not sniffling anymore!

"Right, um. Yeah. So they do this thing, just a bit before the changing of the lunar calendar, right? It's a big long affair so everyone's got time to walk on down and take a look around and stuff, and what everyone does is, they bring everything with them they can't handle any more, see? Or stuff they don't wanna deal with, or even just stuff they thought they did wanna deal with but for whatever reason it turns out they can't? So yeah they come into town and they leave it behind, right? And then for the rest of the week anyone who sees it and wants it can just pick it up and carry it home. Which is when you get your dumpling, by the way. If that's what you wanted to know about. But yeah. Yeah! And then everything that's leftover, like, stuff that got dumped and nobody picked it back up again all gets tossed into a big bonfire, and up it goes! Fwoosh, nobody's problem anymore!"

Kat's only been a girl long enough to see a single Dumping Festival so far, matter of fact. But she loved it a lot and was making plans all year to do more at this one until the whole world ending thing made her forget about calendars and dates and all that good stuff. But now that she's built up a good head of descriptive steam and she can picture it again in her head her face is lit up like fireworks and she's lifted up onto her tippy toes to stick her ears a little bit farther in the air, since fully sticky-uppy doesn't quite seem to cover the level of anticipation.

Her pair of tails swish and cross over and under one another, and her smile turns just a touch wistful. There's still one tear she couldn't quite handle that rolls down her cheek and splashes against the ground.

"Would you, uh? Like to go check it out? The City's a bit of a walk from all the way out here but every night there's fireworks and... well I mean. I-if... if the world's endin' and all, I'd kinda? Doesn't really matter where I meet it, right? And I feel like, maybe you and, and definitely Miss Berserker would really get a lot out of it. Miss Saber'd love it too, but I guess she's busy so. I. Uh. Yeah. Wanna come?"

As far as the whereabouts of Saber, you should know that-

Oh wait. Oh, dang it. Ohhhhhhhh shoot. Shoot, heck, and goshies! If they go see the festival they're gonna come back this way, right? Oh dang it dang it dang it, beans! I didn't think of that! Look I'll break it down on the way ok? I've gotta get out of here, like, ten minutes ago!

Aaaaaaaaaaa!

"I see no reason not to," said Caster. Getting to his feet was a painful experience to watch - elbows that could not hold weight, knees that no longer fully bent - but with his staff and stubborn pride he clawed his way to a standing position.
"It could be a trap," said Adam swiftly. "The glitch might -"
Caster barked a laugh. "I may be a famously bad judge of character, Adam, but I do not believe this girl would murder a turkey sandwich."
The machine clicked. "She is Berserker's master. You underestimate her at your peril."
"Peril?" said Caster. "Then let it come. My plans will not be stopped, nor will Lancer. My role in this war is over and my curiosity to see its ending is no greater than my curiosity to see this festival. But just to satisfy your paranoia - Berserker? Here is my head. Take it, if you wish."
Berseker growled twice. Growled - twice? That second one sounded different, and left her embarrassed rather than violent. Caster looked at her, and laughed. "Hungry, are you? Ms. Fluffybiscuits, shame on you for not feeding your servant. No wonder her will to fight is so weak."

"Wha? But I? Y'know, Actia told me Servants aren't even supposed to need food! And yet! What'm I supposed to do? We just had soup, I've gone through all my favorite cereals, every pastry in Cy's secret snack cabine- uh, please don't tell on me, that's confidential, I told her we had a rabbit infestation. Anyway I'm not normally the one who does the cooking! It's hard!"

Katherine grabbed Berserker by the wrist and ran with her. It was her turn to be the one who dragged somebody along, or to die trying.

"I did!" she shouts with pure-hearted sniffly defiance, "My besht!"

She'd slow down once she remembered Caster probably couldn't keep up with her. But in the meantime embarrassment told her to run.

And speaking of running! Oh man oh man, here comes a lil' narrative flourish! I think this is called a segue? Hehehe, nice. Check it out:

Yeah so speaking of running, Saber sprinted like her life depended on it. That wasn't true, strictly speaking? In fact you could make a pretty strong case that her life depended on her taking it easy and not burning through her last reserves of magical energy for no reason. And you could make another, different but equally strong case that her life didn't depend on anything at all since she was already the ghost of a long dead warrior only running along the surface of the earth on a very temporary contract. But if you were inclined to make either of those arguments, you couldn't say anything to the fact that she really ran because her promises depended on it.

She also ran because all of her plans were on fire, so to speak.

As soon as she'd gone a ways down the tunnel it became rapidly apparent to Saber that there was no way to steal the sunshard without having the kind of tools that would make doing so unnecessary in the first place. Besides, as a spirit all by her lonesome, having it did nothing for her. She needed somebody it could attune to, ideally even the Princess it belonged to in the first place, and she had no idea who that was. Without a Fluffybiscuits she was helpless. Berserker of course was the opposite of helpful: she was English.

That left her in the awkward position of needing to pick a different moment to accomplish a different objective. At first she thought to ambush and kill Caster (trivial, even in her condition) but then even just basic glances around at what things were like underground told her that Rider had gone and managed to get herself killed in the meanwhile, which meant that killing Caster as well put the ritual dangerously close to completion. An impatient hand might even detonate the ritual it was prepared for early and count on whatever world-ending power it was meant to unleash being strong enough as is to be worth doing. No, everyone had to stay alive now.

So the next hope was that Kat would manage what she'd already done with Saber herself and squeak and stab her way through a Servant's defenses to make an ally out of an enemy. But though she'd squeaked, she hadn't stabbed. In fact she'd done a whole lot worse than just not stabbing and managed to lose an argument all by herself. Why hadn't she?

Saber felt the sword sitting on her hip. She stared at it in the near-dark and sighed. Well. These were the dangers in assuming you were the smartest one in a gathering. All clever minds betrayed themselves eventually, wasn't that how you wound up with foxgirls? So yeah. Kat was skipping off in a promising direction but it would take her a long time to sweetie her way through danger. Time that nobody had right now.

Because Rider was dead. Da-, uh, no sorry I'm not comfortable doing this voice. Dang her. Sorry. Sorry! All right move it along we're still trying not to get caught her remember?

So now it fell to Saber to be the one to buy time. Had she still been an Avenger in the peak of that particular transformation she would not have feared Lancer's power whatsoever, but that was all behind her now. Truth be told she was still half an Avenger, just stuck in this awkward space in between spirit origins without full access to any of the skills or powers derived from her legend that might've been helpful. If she had her king's sword, for example, that'd be real helpful. But no. If she fought she'd lose, and yet she was the only one who could do the fighting anymore.

Luckily, Ivar still had a single edge. Nobody in all the sunshard war was better at running away than her. And now, that doesn't sound like much? But she was actually very proud of that. From her point of view, living meant winning. Being on the next battlefield was a chance to wrap herself in glory that she'd be denied if she went down like a punk too soon. So she'd always had a keen sense for when to cut and run, and it was a skill she'd honed practically all the way to the level of a secret sword.

But even so, it was going to be hard. She needed weapons. Things of this material earth that Lancer couldn't just deny, and powerful ones at that. Something strong and sharp enough that it wouldn't just shatter when she threw it at Lancer's head, and yet light enough that when she cut and run she'd be able to lead her ally turned hated rival turned hopefully eventually ally again maybe who knows this was complicated.

Anyway, weapons. Weapons with stories. That's what had her running. Luckily for Saber, she was in a world full of stories. Just begging to be told. <3

You are looking for something? Down here?

The Ancient World has slumbered for centuries awaiting such a moment - awaiting a Customer.

The shops come to you, floor panels revolving to reveal racks of rifles, walls whispering promises of weal and woe. Lights open in strobe-flashes, pictures too fast to process - leaving only the vague, hypnotized shapes of hunger. Spruikers in their pinstriped suits and beaming smiles animate like they just came back from a smoke break, joyously able to promise how you might break others.

Something traditional? Swords made in the classic styles, optimized to your height, weight, and reach - as best as they can estimate any of those. A modern twist? Neo-alloys will give your blade the structure of diamond and your clothes the durability of asbestos. Perhaps something grander? Your previous use of the mecha suit was noted and manufacturing begun on a copy just in case you - or anyone else - should express interest. Or a more radical break? Rider never got to unleash her full arsenal, but she was a creature of the past. Here in the glorious now you can have every weapon she dreamed to possess. But you can do better, too. You want a unique weapon? These have never been fired before. A storied weapon? These ones are guaranteed to have been used to glorious effect on the battlefield. An exotic weapon? Even we don't know what these ones do.

You desire. Let us fill your desire. We will be the shape of it. We will be the shape of you. And a special deal for our first customer in a long while: We can be paid in exposure. All we want is to show people what we did for you, to help them know what we can do for them. Help us help you help them all.

Oh wow, temptation piled atop temptation.

With this much to work with, with so much firepower at her fingertips, it was suddenly real tough to think about things in terms of stalling for someone else anymore. Why should she bother? With her Fylgja (or a recreation of it at any rate) restored she could easily crush Lancer where she stood. Even in the event that her opponent was strong, determined, and clever enough to pierce the inner chamber and turn the fight back into a swords-and-spears brawl, she would have such an arsenal stockpiled that it would be like having her shadow army returned to her as well. All of it of the new world, with every manner of conceptual advantage she could hope to think of. And all for free! Why should she bother holding back? Why shouldn't she solve this whole stupid problem according to her original plan?

...Because it would break a promise she'd made. That's why. Five whole entire wasted minutes of longing stares at the most powerful arsenal of weapons she'd ever laid eyes on just to remember this simple little fact about herself. And once she did remember, everything shifted all at once. Promises were important to her no matter the age she lived in but just now they were literally all that was holding her manifestation together. If she broke the spirit of a single one, not only would she not be able to bring her full power to bear when it mattered, she'd probably just vanish into golden sparkles on the spot. And the plan couldn't afford another-- right, right. That meant it couldn't afford Lancer's death either.

She hated relying on Kat. She grimaced and glowered and wished on the dozen superweapons she'd already broken or discarded that the situation were reversed, and it was the little fox depending on her and her own way of doing things to make it all happen. But in the end, she'd lost her fight against this world already, hadn't she? With a shrug, she lets all of it go. When she reaches forward, her hand closes around the hilt of a single sword.

And what a beauty of a blade it was! A simple handle wrapped in textured rubber composite material that was warm and durable and stuck perfectly in her grip no matter how she held it. The massive sword a match for her stature and forged from unbreakable diamond-like metals set long and straight and perfect as you like it, arranged with a honeycomb sort of hexagon pattern along the blade, possibly for effect but possibly also marking where pieces of it had been arranged to form a stronger, lighter whole. In the exact center of the blade there was a small four point diamond shape carved out of the material, a perfect spot for capturing and shattering an arrow or a spear tip, if the sword's wielder was skilled and brave enough to try that sort of maneuver.

"Oh wow, that's a nice one!"

I am not ready for the speed or the viciousness of the charge. They just don't make this kind of killing intent where I'm from! I can't sidestep in time, or gracefully tumble out of the way. Only thing that stops me from turning into kabob is that I tripped and fell onto my butt with a squeak as soon as she made a motion for me. We can call it battle instinct, if you'd like to me a favor. From down here the height disparity is such that she can only swing straight down if she wants to hit me, and from there I can at least get my bow in the way.

"Gyuh?! Woah woah woah woah woahwoahwoahwoah w-wait! Truce, truce! Uh, surrender? Whatever, I'm on your side just stop stop stop!!"

Saber glares at me. But the pressure eases up enough that I can sit straight, and lower my weapon a touch. Dang it, she did a number on this thing. I'm gonna have to lacquer the whole thing, probably restring it too before it'll shoot again. Bummer.

"You have ten seconds to explain yourself, little girl. After that I shall kill you." she snaps at me.

"What, even if I explain myself?"

She gives me A Look, and for a second I feel like I've disappointed my mom. But she does take a step back, and lowers that terrifying weapon of hers. I take a deep breath and dust myself off as I get back to my feet. Next to her I kind of can't help stretching as tall as I can, just to close the gap a little. It's pointless; even hunched over in the tunnel like this she dwarfs me to the point where it doesn't even look like I'm standing straight. I guess that's why she's always calling everybody 'Little This' and 'Little That'. Yeah, makes sense now.

"R-right. Uh, thanks. So! My name's Yue, and..."

"You?" Saber snorts, "Are Princess Yue?"

Pfffffft ahahahahahahaha oh my goshies! Have you ever heard anything so funny in your entire life? Me, a Princess! As if I could, ahaha!

"No no, just Yue." I smile my brightest and push my floofy mess of brown hair back behind my shoulders.

Saber raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"I mean, uh, if it makes you feel any better you could. Erm. Call me the, ehehe," and then I mutter the rest into my shoulder.

"Speak up, child."

"The... Demon Swordswoman."

Now her eyebrow's arching so aggressively I'm pretty sure it's about to leave her face. Aish. This isn't going any kind've way I pictured in my head when I decided to step out of the shadows.

"Listen, just! Never mind all that I'm just trying to help here! Like, yeesh."

"What help do you profess to offer, little sword maiden? Do you intend to join the fight as well?"

"Well uh," I turn my eyes toward the ground for a moment, "Matter of fact I don't. Not that I don't wanna! But this isn't my story, see? I don't want Kat knowing I got involved."

Saber clenches her fist and makes some kind of frustrated growl. I think her love of the world is at war with her understanding of it. I don't blame her honestly, it stinks to not feel like you belong.

"Then what?" she snarls, "Perhaps you come bearing some warning instead. Allow me a guess: this sword is cursed, and if I bring it to the surface I will become corrupted by evil spirits."

"Eh? Nah nothing like that. I said as much at the start, didn't I? It's a super duper nice weapon, you couldn't have picked a better one down here if you'd tried. Plus it really does want to help, y'know? I think you should let it. I just also think you're gonna want something to... balance it out?"

But she's already got her back turned to me. Those long, rock hard muscles and the turn of steel colored hair (oh goshies she's pretty up close) are dancing as they recede down the tunnel.

"I have no more time for games, girl. There is work to be done and risks that must be taken if this final alliance is to triumph. If I am truly underequipped I shall simply have to give up my body to make up the difference."

Ok that's really the problem with these hero types, isn't it? Rose was just the same way for the longest time, before her heart finally uncoiled. That urge to sacrifice is part of what makes 'em beautiful, but isn't the whole point from here that nobody's allowed to die? Not every problem can be solved by throwing your body in front of it. Sometimes, you need to trust in a helping hand. Or a sword, in this case.

I still remember when I thought I'd never get this technique worked out. All the practice and all the messing up, and if Chen hadn't finally drawn a diagram in a way that clicked for me I'd probably still be bobbling it. But now my hands slip fluidly through the positions and when I breathe out I feel my body lifting off the ground, lighter than a feather. I push away on the air and fly my way in front of Saber to look her directly at eye level.

"Look, Miss Ivar the Boneless. If that is your real name. You've gotta get out of this tunnel before you can do anything, right? The place I want to show you is barely a kilometer from where you came in, it'll take no time at all to get there, fast as you are. I'll explain more on the way, yeah? And if I can't convince you by then, I'll... just have to risk it, I guess."

Saber doesn't break stride, but she does give me her full attention again. There's one, maybe two horrible moments where I think she's going to start yelling at me, but seeing me gliding backwards through the air is a joke and a half too far or something, because out of nowhere she starts just howling with laughter. Really sharp, edgelordy sort of laughter, the kind that makes her need to clutch her hand over her eye and push her bangs back out of her face.

"What is this? What is this?! You people never cease to surprise me. Demon Swordswoman indeed! Very well then, little bird. You may show me the path. But if you cost me my window to act, your punishment will be swift and brutal."