They say, ‘Every light in the sky is a dying star.’ Each of those twinkling lights, o’ so high, is the prolonged last gasp of a celestial body. Such an extreme death... surely, it would have inevitable consequences...
“Life Support is reading flatlines across the board!”
“Alpha Team is terminated!”
“Beta Team is down!”
Echoing... the death throes of a star...those beautiful, bright lights are mere spectacle to the uneducated; the casual observer; the ignorant child. Humanity’s hubris and their lack of universal understanding resonates like a guiding beacon...
“Singularities 1 to 7 are all Red! The Humanity Extinction Model is predicting 100% within six months time!”
“Coffins 1 to 49 are entering Cryostasis!”
“Wait! Coffin 49 is entering Recall!”
“And, a beacon is a target... indicating intention... and that intention is the Death and Extinction of Humanity...”
“The Humanity Extinction Model is recalculating!”
“Singularity 1, six months! Singularity 2, one year! We’re gaining time!”
“Medical Services have recovered the sole surviving Master. Moving her to ICU, now!”
However, those lights acknowledged as Heavenly Bodies, prompt even the Gods to be inclined to fairness, and offer a just duel. In spite of their ammo being the very stars above.
“Director Fujimaru, the Singularities have begun to stabilize,” says a little girl with a backpack, as she skated from terminal to terminal on inlines; analyzing the screens in seconds, and taking in details like only a genius could. “In twenty-four hours, Singularity: “Petra” will be stable enough for Rayshift. Do we activate Theta Team?”
In grim silence, a woman in a black suit stood up from her desk, overlooking the grand majesty of CHALDEA, as the Extinction Events receded back by six months from their predecessor. Foolishly, her own predecessor had thought to take them all on at once - that overconfidence had resulted in forty-eight dead bodies on ice, and one survivor in critical condition.
And yet, there were still more bodies that could be thrown at the problem.
“Assistant Director, Da Vinci,” says the woman, as she walked to the back wall - a wall in name only, as it was constructed to house one-hundred-sixty-eight security boxes; forty-eight of which were, now, glowing red, one was glowing orange, while the remaining one-hundred-twenty were glowing yellow. It was set as a rectangle, seven high and twenty-four wide, to indicate which one of the 24 Teams were Active, Inactive, on Standby, and, as of now: Dead.
At the eighth column, Director Fujimaru would key in code to open six of the seven boxes. “Activate these six Masters and fit them for their Command Seal,” she ordered the little girl. “They now have permission to Synchronize with their summoned Servants, and function as Active Masters.”
“You aren’t activating the Assassin,” Da Vinci asks.
“We still have that dog in the fight,” Director Fujimaru says, “We just need to bet on her...”
“We already took one huge gamble, Director. Do you wanna double down? Knowing what came of her last roll,” Da Vinci asks.
“Activate them, Technical Director,” Director Fujimaru says firmly. “Direct them to gather in Assembly Hall 11 at 1700 hours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Da Vinci says, her expression grim, before she skated off.
Sitting down, the once-assistant, now-acting, Director of CHALDEAS, Fujimaru Ritsuka, sighed bitterly and flipped through the folders. “How desperate we’ve gotten... sending children to war...”
Across the halls of CHALDEA, frosted by a thin layer of ice on the steel, buried in the Arctic, walked the students of magic - Masters, one and all, those of varying ranks, levels, and skill sets. In truth, they were treated like highschool students, regardless of Family or Bloodline, and adopted their own hierarchical society - ignorant to the deaths of their seniors and sophomore classmates. There would be a school-wide beeping; school-provided phones going off with a call to assemble in one of the ten assembly halls at 1700 hours for an announcement.
Save for six Masters, who would be told to assemble in an eleventh hall that didn’t exist with text-based directions to reach it: Assembly Hall 11; where Masters were given their Command Seal Activation rights and full responsibility of their Partner Servant.
It was 10:00 AM, at the moment, the start of Homeroom. Whether the chosen Masters shared classes with each other, or would pass by in the halls only, Director Fujimaru didn’t know.
All she knew was: she’d be having them over for dinner and duty.
