Nero blinked her eyes open and glanced around to the sound of rustling sheets and running water from an aqueduct that ran through her room. From what she remembered from the architect, it was part of the design in order to fill her personal bathhouse.
Wait, her room? Why was she in her room?
A hand pressed over her face, her head spinning from a sudden onset of dizziness that made no sense to her.
Last she remembered; she was just being introduced to a man claiming himself to be Honored Caesar?
Frowning, she blearily opened her eyes and then tried to sit up, but was stopped by a gentle nudge insisting that she remain lying down where she was. Glancing to her shoulders, she saw a hand pressing down over them. Following that had naturally led to an arm, and then to a person who was sitting by her bedside with a relieved expression.
"You're awake, but I don't recommend moving too much just yet," Shirou said, placing his hand back to his side where Nero noted a wet towel and a water bowl lay.
Thoughts swimming in her mind, Nero eventually focused and realized she had likely sweated, and that Shirou had helped wipe the sweat off of her. With Saber Alter acting as Nero, there weren't any maid-servants around to properly dress and clean her.
She was being treated with kindness.
"Don't worry. I only wiped down your forehead while Mash helped with the back and front," Shirou explained when he noticed Nero glance at the wet towel.
"Did I ask?" Nero blinked, her head tilting in a perturbed manner. "I wouldn't have minded even if you saw the back or front. Umu. Think of it as part of the service you offered."
A sunless and depressing aura suddenly flickered from somewhere behind Shirou, causing sweat to bead over his brow.
"...Lady Nero, your words are killing me." Shirou shivered. "Just because you may not mind doesn't mean that others won't."
"Ah? Uhm. sure." Nero let the matter drop in favor of figuring out her situation. "What happened? Why am I in my bed?"
Shirou sighed, shaking his head in a way that made Nero feel like she was being chided.
"You suddenly fainted," he told her.
"You jest." Nero said indignantly, trying to flourish her arms, only to realize they were still stuck beneath her blanket. Pouting, she diverted energy into her voice. "The Rose of Olympia does not fall like a limp woman on stage!"
"Indeed, the Rose of Olympia does not fall like a limp woman on stage." Shirou exasperatedly pinched the bridge of his nose. Only Nero could make something as serious as abruptly fainting into something mild.
At least she still had a healthy set of lungs.
"Ah, you believed m- of course it's true!" Nero coughed, only to flinch when Shirou revealed that he was far from done.
He sighed at her, closing his eyes with a smidgen of vexation only alleviated by the thought that Archer EMIYA might be having just as much 'luck' as him.
With unwavering patience, Shirou opened his eyes and stared at Nero.
"Listen, and listen well. The Rose of Olympia does not fall like a limp woman on stage- She falls like a woman that got blasted through the stomach and thought it a good idea to walk around and reopen her wounds until anemia set in."
...
Nero slowly began lifting her blanket to cover her face as if a piece of thin fabric could cover her blunder.
How childish.
Pulling the sheets away, Nero's pouting expression was exposed, making her glare when Shirou wouldn't even let her recede into a hole and escape reality.
"-What a fool."
A new voice spoke up.
"-You even speak like Morgan."
Followed by another.
Nero quickly surveyed her room again and finally noticed that it wasn't just Shirou near her, but Saber Alter and that other Saber that Caesar had in his employ.
Ritsuka and Mash weren't present as they were finding a leyline in Rome to establish Chaldea's summoning circle under Romani's instruction.
When the summoning circle was established, Ritsuka and Shirou would have access to the Spirit Origins of Heroic Spirits registered in Chaldea's database. Rather than going for a random summon, the registered spirit origins could be used to directly summon a Servant already in Chaldea, minimizing the chance of uncertainty.
This Servant pool was one that all Masters of Chaldea could draw from, but not all could be summoned to a Singularity. It would be too taxing on Chaldea's reserves, so the limit was six total per Singularity.
However, Shirou already had Saber and Jeanne Alter who were directly contracted with him. Chaldea supplied him the magic energy for their upkeep, but this didn't mean he couldn't summon. The more help they had, the better, and it would be foolish of him to refuse.
The only difference between Shirou and Ritsuka though, was that Shirou would opt for random summoning. After all, it wasn't as if he'd managed to connect with any of the new Servants from Orleans other than Jeanne Alter. Most of them had come after forming a rapport with either Ritsuka or Olga so he'd hold off for the time being until he could get to know them better.
For now, someone new was more appealing to him.
He just hoped that whoever it was would get along with Saber and Jeanne Alter.
Speaking of Jeanne Alter, she was tasked with protecting Ritsuka and Mash while they did their work.
This left Shirou to look after Nero while Caesar went and reacquainted himself with Rome. Saber Alter naturally followed after Shirou, and this led to the other Saber following Saber Alter on grounds of suspicion.
In truth, Shirou had only asked Jeanne Alter to protect Ritsuka and Mash to prevent adding oil to fire, but to no avail. If Jeanne Alter would be the oil to Saber Alter and the other Saber's fire, then the oil wasn't even needed to light a blaze.
The talk with Caesar was postponed until everyone was in an ideal enough position to participate. Instead, Romani had shared the bare basics of the Grand Order before Shirou brought Nero back to her room to recover.
That was the story until now, but Shirou was doing his best to not react to the constant bickering.
"-My patience grows thin with you."
"-And you have yet to give me an explanation, witch!"
Meanwhile, Nero surmised that this wasn't the first time Shirou was subject to the antics of the two behind him, and he had just given up.
A wise, yet tactical choice.
As long as they weren't killing each other, there was nothing that couldn't be ignored if you put your mind to it.
Just look at Nero herself! She always ignored her paperwork, but in the end, someone else always does it for her. It was the same thing! Truly she was a genius.
Whereas Nero had already cemented into her role of pretending to peruse boring government documents and papers, Shirou wasn't quite to the extent of ignoring everything yet.
"Saber, please. Not now," Shirou requested, trying to focus.
Nero noted that Saber Alter grudgingly acquiesced which caused the other Saber to knit his brows about Saber Alter actually listening.
How curious? But Nero wasn't in a position to be an observer when Shirou's attention was on her, and her injuries.
"What are the chances of you staying and recovering in bed?" He asked tentatively.
"None," Nero answered immediately. There was no way she could just keep still. She'd already tried that and failed.
Thinking deeply to himself, Shirou looked into Nero's stubborn eyes, and eventually gave up trying to keep Nero in a birdhouse.
Romani had explained how Nero's existence was tied to resolving the current singularity and that she couldn't be allowed to die. Her role in history was essential here, and this made it ideal to isolate her for her protection, but what did protection matter if she pushed herself too far and killed herself?
The matter of Nero's injury couldn't be dealt with prior due to how pressing the situation had been with the attacks on Rome.
But now, it is different. There is time, and even a means to give a cure.
Shirou focused within himself, a pulse of magic energy causing circuit-like patterns to briefly flash over his skin.
Nero perked up in interest, looking like a spectator for a party trick.
Shirou tried to ignore how Nero was treating this as a spectacle, and in the end, he managed to do so by ignoring her. Stretching his hand out in front of him, the outline of a sheath began to form as he started his process of Tracing.
The royal blue and gold ornamental design appeared first, followed by Fae inscriptions etched into the scabbard. The other Saber's breath hitched as he started in alarm, blinked, then started again as the sheath fully formed.
Avalon, the Ever-Distant Utopia.
Saber Alter was in no way surprised when Shirou Traced Avalon.
Avalon's potent healing capabilities were unparalleled so long as the user's head was undamaged. Merlin had often warned Saber Alter that her sheath was more important than her sword under certain circumstances. It wasn't lost to her that her rule ended when her sheath disappeared, but more than that she understood what came next.
Shirou could Trace and use Avalon, but its true potency could only be unleashed through 'King Arthur's' magic energy.
"Saber, I'll be needing your help." Shirou said, prompting Saber Alter to nod.
Indeed. She'd been right.
So then what did this oaf think he was doing?
Shirou glanced behind him in the face of a sudden disturbance, and noticed that Saber Alter and the other Saber had moved at his request, freezing simultaneously when they noticed each other's actions.
They stared hard at each other, and then both went gloomy.
"...Hn."
"...Hmph."
The other Saber eventually grunted and skeptically gestured for Saber Alter to go forward, convinced that she'd make a fool of herself.
Saber Alter obliged for the same reason. She had no idea what this man's problem was with her, but that was her sheath, and there was no way it wouldn't react to her.
Walking up to Shirou, Shirou offered Saber Alter Avalon. She took it in her hands, activated her Magic Core, and funneled the energy into the Traced sheath.
Avalon shone with a dull golden hue as her energy increased the potency of its healing properties before Saber Alter passed out back to Shirou.
Grunting at the other Saber, Saber Alter sneered at him; no clue about what the other man was expecting of her. Did he honestly think she'd fail?
The other Saber became muted, lost in thought while scrutinizing what Shirou had just done, and ignoring how Saber Alter tried to rub salt in his defeat…even her personality was similar to Morgan.
The other Saber grumbled, but no one seemed to care at this moment.
Shirou left Saber Alter and the other Saber to settle their differences, and refocused on Nero.
"Here," he said, passing Avalon to Nero who cupped it in her arms bafflement.
"Umu. I already have a sheath?" Nero tilted her head.
"This should heal your injury and get you back on your feet," Shirou explained, but in the end, wouldn't really have to.
The moment Avalon activated, it burst into motes of gold light that were absorbed into Nero's body. The color of her complexion quickly improved while her wound started to itch severely from new cells rapidly forming. She knew better than to scratch at them, but she couldn't help squirming when the soothing feeling came next.
"W-Whoa?" Nero gasped, forgetting there were others watching.
"Right?" Shirou let out a smile in the face of such an innocent reaction. "You should get better in no time. So, rest a bit this time."
Nero flushed in embarrassment, and dodged the hand trying to pat her head.
"Go, you may go!" She shooed them out of the room to hide her shame.
Shirou and the others easily obliged to the request, but it didn't mean it was the end. Rather, it was just the beginning.
They were out of Nero's chambers, but the Saber that Caesar had recruited continued to follow them with a frown. He'd been like that ever since his encounter with Saber and Jeanne Alter, and had been insistent on pursuing answers. Nero's matter had continuously got the subject sidelined again and again, but not this time.
"Alright, we need to talk," the mysterious Saber proposed when they were far enough away from prying ears. "I am willing to help on the issue lady Mash, Sir Ritsuka, and the wizard Romani had explained about the Grand Order, but that is that, and this is this."
As it stood, they ended up stopping at an open forum, or the plaza between the marbled columns of the Roman Forum's government buildings. The mysterious Saber stood across from Saber Alter and Shirou, and looked ready to clash if need be.
"Who are you?" The Saber questioned, focusing more on Saber Alter than Shirou.
"I can say the same to you. One should not ask for the name of another without introducing oneself first." Saber Alter derided.
"..."
The other Saber seemed to come to a decision. Rather than speak, the air that shrouded the other Saber's sword abruptly dissipated, allowing it to be seen.
It was a sword that looked different, yet the same.
Wider at the base, the design and blue and gold theme of the sword was not lost on any who bore witness, let alone Shirou and Saber Alter.
Both widened their eyes at the sight, an action not missed by the other Saber.
"If you recognize this sword, then you would naturally know who I am." The other Saber pulled down his hood to reveal blond hair, teal eyes, and features that wouldn't have looked out of place from a male Saber Alter. "I am Arthur Pendragon. King of Knights. Now that you know, will you forsake your honor and remain nameless still, Saber of black?"
Shirou tensed, arguably nervous now that the puzzle was solved.
If there was one thing Shirou inherently understood, it was that the original Arturia and Saber Alter were polar opposites. They may share the same core virtues surrounding order and law, but their approaches and dispositions were the contrast between light and dark.
They would not mix.
The Arthur Pendragon before Shirou's eyes was a male version of the original Saber which meant he likely had similar principles.
Not good.
Saber Alter was not one to remain silent.
"I am also, 'Arthur Pendragon,'" Saber Alter said stiffly, yet with a hard expression. "My given name is Arturia, and my family name is Pendragon. I am the King of the Wizard's prophecy."
Arthur expected an answer like this ever since Avalon had reacted with Saber Alter, but by virtue of how blackened and murderous Saber Alter had become, it was hard for Arthur to accept.
"You're a version of myself?" Arthur took a deep breath, glaring. "Do you think I'd believe it through your words alone? You resemble Morgan, and I have suffered far too much in her hands not to be careful!"
At this, Saber Alter had no rebuttal. She indeed resembled her older sister, and there was no denying how hateful Morgan could be. She herself was just as wary of Morgan as Arthur was and could relate.
Everything up to here was okay, rather; it was what Arthur asked to show as proof that it would go down hill.
"If you are truly a version of me, then where is your sword?" He insisted, doubtful. "Why do you not reveal it?"
Unlike Arthur, Saber Alter no longer had Invisible Air to cover the radiance of Excalibur. She'd lost that privilege when she fell and darkened. Her sword would be revealed the moment she summoned it.
-And she did without hesitation, knowing that there was no use hiding it.
A Black Excalibur appeared, crackling with tendrils of red lightning.
The energy that exuded from it was no longer a tranquil gold, but an evil red that reeked of the primeval curse that lurks in the British Isles.
The very curse Morgan inherited from King Uther.
Arthur's expression twisted.
"W-What have you done?!"
A fierce wind blew.
Shirou covered his face from the buffeting storm.
Expectedly, first impressions did not go well.
/-/
How uneventful.
As Nero wasn't 'Arthur,' a day was still required before she was certain that her injuries had healed at least eighty percent. To test this, she'd first tried curling her fingers and toes before moving onto rolling her body over her bed. When she felt no relative discomfort at the movements, the edges of her lips tugged upward as she then threw off her bed sheets and stood onto her feet.
Beaming, she tried walking, and was further pleased at the result. Lifting up her dress to peek at her wound, all she could see was minor discoloration from the new skin that healed over the injury.
What a magical trinket this sheath was!
"Umu. What are the chances of them giving it to me if I asked?" Nero mulled, thinking of the benefits such a sheath could have while expanding Rome's land. "No, no you're getting distracted Nero. The people are waiting! The emperor is back!"
Scuttling over to cloth herself properly, she rummaged through a dresser until she found her favorite red dress and exposed white leotard. Changing into the attire fitting for an emperor such as herself, she eagerly made to leave her room.
Recovering on her own led to her inner demons whispering her inadequacy and insecurities to her ears.
Admittedly, the appearance of other Roman emperors disturbed her. She'd yet to carve out her role as Nero Claudious, and had no choice but to miserably question how her Romans would react to the news. The longer she thought about it, the longer she realized there was nothing to her name other than her beauty and lavishness. For the first time, she felt unconfident.
W-Would she be abandoned? Would her efforts not be enough?
She was mistaken.
She was Rome, and the people adored her.
There was no way they would ever reject her, the Rose of Olympia!
Nero clapped her hands over her cheeks, the sting rousing her spirits. Her back straightened, her shoulders broadened, before she then began strutting out of her room with cheerful bravado.
Her destination was Rome's marketplace where she planned to immerse herself in the hustle and bustle of Rome to relieve her stress. Primarily, it would help settle her mind when meeting with Caesar again.
The shock and bitterness she'd felt then were the cause of her fainting. Her willpower had been what had been keeping her on her feet, and when that crumbled, it was no wonder she'd passed out.
Eager to quell her insecurity through the adoration of her people, her legs carried her swiftly out of the Forum Romanum's vicinity.
Soon enough, she could see them.
Her people of Rome!
The ones nearest to her by the edges of the market place were the very same Roman legionaries who'd marched with her to battle against Caligula's forces.
Yes, yes! Rejoice, her citizens of Rome! The emperor has returned with the likeness of Venus stepping out of her pearl to lead her people once more!
Nero raised her hand, intent on calling out to her soldiers, but froze as she became keenly aware of their voices pricking at her ears. Subconsciously, she hid herself, not knowing what sort of expression she was making.
("-I never knew a dress could change our emperor so much! She was amazing. Not only did she lead us to defend against the attack at the walls, but she suddenly learned how to command without a single one of us dying.")
("Amazing? I thought she was scary.")
("No. That's the aura of a leader. Our Nero has grown up in these hard times!")
Nero flinched, a hand pressing against her chest.
("Are you saying she wasn't before?")
("I, ugh. I guess? If it were before the war, then it would be fine, but I really thought our Rome was gone before Nero stepped up.")
Nero flinched again, feeling as if her heart was being stabbed.
("D-Did you hear about the other bandit leaders Nero said were attacking our Rome? One of them was apparently Honored Caesar, and he's here in Rome right now! Maybe there are even other emperors of Rome out there?")
("Hey? The reconnaissance units Nero sent, rather than being wiped out, what if they just defected?")
("Shut up! You idiot! Our Nero's the best! That might have been the case before, but look how much she's changed for us!")
'No. No. She didn't change at all.' Nero felt her mouth dry, her vision somewhat misty. 'The fake emperor they were talking about wasn't even her.'
("And how much has Honored Caesar done for Rome? If that man truly is who he says he is, then who would you pick over Nero or Caesar?")
("Nero.")
Umu?! For a second, Nero's expression brightened, but the moment was short lived.
("How can a fat man be Honored Caesar? There's no comparison.")
("But what if?")
("...")
/-/
In the end, they did not give a definite answer.
Nero slowly hung her head; her mouth locking shut as the soldiers carried on without noticing her.
She ran right back to her Golden Palace, none knowing that she'd ever left.
Shirou squinted his eyes, an arm raised to shield his face from the buffeting wind of Arthur's billowing magic energy.
The man looked enraged despite maintaining a blank expression, the sheer potency of the magic he was releasing, worthy of being that of a Dragon's. Be that as it may, Arthur wasn't the only Dragon present.
Before Shirou could even hope to prevent it, Saber Alter bristled and released her own magic energy, a dark hue tinged with flecks of red that contrasted heavily against Arthur's navy blue.
The ground groaned beneath the two, the area where their energies met carving a fissure that spread out into hair-like cracks over the tiled marble. They were near the heart of the Roman Forum, a place lined with historic monuments that would last until the modern age.
Those historic monuments may crumble right here and now.
Sweat began to bead over Shirou's brow, trying to account for anything else that could go wrong, but quickly throwing out that mindset. The worst had already come to pass with the way Arthur was glaring at Saber Alter.
There was no turning back.
"You will regret this choice," Saber Alter warned, muscles taut and expression frigid.
Arthur shook his head, refusing to relent. "I know only what my eyes see, and what my body feels. Tell me this, if Caliburn were here, would you be able to wield it?"
Saber Alter did not answer even knowing that Shirou could very well put that scenario to the test.
It was because she lacked confidence.
"You don't know, do you? What manner of atrocity would you have committed to blacken even Excalibur's light? Morgan's Prime Evil curse that haunts Britain even now runs freely through the blade!"
There were no excuses, at least, none that Arthur would accept. Shirou could see this as clearly as Saber Alter could.
The stalwart knight and undefeated King was grounded in his duty, belief, and mission just as much as the original Saber if not more. Rather, Shirou knew from the history of the alternative Excalibur that Arthur was here on a mission to hunt a Beast for the sake of others rather than himself.
A righteous cause, a righteous dedication, and a righteous and steadfast will to carry it through no matter the level of self sacrifice.
That was the type of man Arthur was and represented as depicted in the legend of King Arthur.
Saber Alter was the opposite.
Selfish, possessive, and moving in accordance to her whims and wants, holding only law and order to the highest standard. Her Origin was blackened by the tainted mud of a cursed Grail giving breadth to an alternate history of kingship steepled in tyranny and oppression.
The two would never see eye to eye on principle alone.
However, did that mean that they should freely be able to come to blows?
No. Definitely not.
Shirou could not just stand and let this happen without intervening somehow.
If Arthur would not listen, Shirou understood that the only way to make a difference was through Saber Alter.
Hardening his resolve, Shirou lowered the arm shielding his face from the buffeting wind and approached Saber Alter from behind. She didn't react as she was both facing the other way, and didn't consider that he'd take such an action from the start.
In contrast, Shirou could feel Arthur's steely gaze lock on him at his approach.
The storm of black and red Saber Alter was releasing was palpable to the point of physically exerting itself on her surroundings.
Approaching was no simple feat, and the level of determination on Shirou's face reminded Arthur heavily of his own knights traversing the battlefield.
That still begged the question of what Shirou's purpose was?
What was spurring him to trek through that chaotic storm of magic energy despite physical harm?
Shirou felt like he was burning. His hair was whipping back, and small cuts were opening over his skin from the sharpness of Saber Alter's magic energy. Every breath felt tedious, and his vision was blurring with each step. Regardless, he progressed forward through the storm until he arrived at his destination.
Saber Alter didn't even react, knowing that Shirou was at her back and no one else. In her mind, there was no way he would harm her, making her vigilance to him entirely negligible. All her attention was focused on the enemy.
Her dilated pupils were piercing in their intensity, the sneer on her face ever so pronounced.
Then, she abruptly felt arms wrap around her shoulders, the disparity in height making the back of her head press against a familiar broad chest.
Shirou hugged Saber Alter from behind, and Arthur had a full view of Saber Alter's face. He saw how surprise shifted into dumbfoundment rather than fury, and how quickly that turned into a mix of shame and mortification as she realized Arthur was staring right at her.
With a face and disposition like Morgan, Arthur never once considered that Saber Alter could make such expressions, let alone show restraint out of consideration for the other person.
Morgan would have just taken what she wanted and called it hers by force if necessary.
Saber Alter was different. She wanted to possess, but she also wanted sincerity, and force would never gain sincerity.
Saber Alter could break out of that hug. It would be easy too, but she didn't. It even looked like she didn't want to…
Perhaps realizing that Arthur was judging her, Saber Alter could not take it anymore and squirmed.
In front of the enemy, Saber Alter was embarrassed, her momentum skewing into absurdity.
"Shirou, you-"
"Hold your anger." Shirou asked her, holding her closer and resting his chin over Saber Alter's head.
The tips of Saber Alter's ears began to redden as her gaze landed on Arthur, and yes, he was still there.
She then tried to be threatening, but the image was too off as the intensity of her magic energy was no longer as overbearing as before.
Arthur felt his tension slipping.
Saber Alter sighed.
"Let's put this off." Saber Alter glared, as if her concentrated animosity would earn her any points with Arthur.
Predictably, her prickly attitude did nothing.
"I do not trust you." Arthur glared back, putting weight to his words.
"It doesn't matter whether you do or do not." Saber Alter was not one to-
"Saber." Shirou interjected, looking Saber Alter right in the eyes. "Please. As a King, do you not know how to make peace?"
Saber Alter looked like she was dying. She wanted to live up to Shirou's expectations, but also disliked conceding to an enemy in any way.
"...you bastard, I will offer you an accord." Saber Alter ground out through gnashing teeth.
Shirou nudged Saber Alter's side, her eye twitching.
Of course, peace could be made through deals, but there was an even simpler method with individuals: An apology and a reconciliation would do wonders.
Knowing that, Saber Alter didn't want to consider it an option at all even if she understood that infighting was detrimental to a war let alone solving this Singularity.
"I-I refuse." She stammered.
Arthur blanked. That cold and unfeeling tyrant was being self conscious?
In the end, Saber Alter gradually reeled in her magic energy in utter silence under Shirou's continued coaxing.
Shirou then grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"...sorry. I was getting ahead of myself," Saber Alter hesitated, then spat the apology in Arthur's direction with contempt. The light in her eyes appeared entirely unwilling in their sheer petulance.
Arthur would have been annoyed if she hadn't mumbled the words out like a child chided by her guardian.
In retrospect, Arthur suddenly realized that no one would ever believe him if he told this story to others.
"Thank you," Shirou said.
"Hn." Saber Alter grunted and shifted her gaze away.
When Shirou tried to pull his hand back, Saber Alter resisted and instead interlocked her fingers with his own, expression remaining carefully neutral.
She was no longer even paying attention to Arthur as if he was just a bug on the wall. In short, a nuisance, a third wheel.
In silence, Arthur glanced from Shirou to Saber Alter, then back.
All tension finally left him as he dispersed his magic energy.
His expression grew unreadable before he stormed off, lost in thought.
/-/
Somehow, someway, Shirou managed to contain a disaster that was just waiting to happen. The result of his countermeasure was hard to predict, but he reasoned that it was better than the alternative.
Rome could not, and should not be the battleground of two Dragons that have never known defeat in war and battles.
Everything would be destroyed at the minimum, and Shirou couldn't even begin to imagine how Rome's destruction would lead to changes in the timeline.
He wanted to eliminate the era's Singularity, not be a contributor to it.
For once, Shirou was lucky that nothing ended up happening. He'd never thought a day would come where his luck would actually draw a positive conclusion, but he was getting ahead of himself.
Although he'd succeeded in diffusing the situation with Arthur and Saber Alter, it wasn't as if he'd solved it. Rather, it was better to describe it as nothing more than a delay.
Arthur had stormed off, likely to cool his head, and Saber Alter was needed to oversee repairs at Rome's walls. The sight of her greatly raised the morale of the Roman legions, and she wasn't one to keep still no matter how much she wanted to indulge by keeping him next to her.
It was one of her good points.
This left Shirou on his own, but it didn't mean he wasn't doing anything.
He was on his way to Nero's Golden Palace on a health check. Although he was certain that Avalon's potent healing would be able to quickly get Nero back on her feet, it was prudent to make sure she was doing alright rather than leaving it to assumptions.
With Nero's character, even if she wasn't fully healed, she should have long since gotten up by now if only to bask in her people's veneration of her.
Which was why it was all the more jarring to see Nero listlessly sprawled over her bed and blankly staring at her ceiling.
For all intents and purposes, she looked fine. The prior wound wasn't even there, and all the blood and grime, left on her body through countless battles before Chaldea's arrival, had been washed clean.
Shirou cleared his throat.
"Nero?" He called tentatively.
Her ears perked up, meaning that she must have heard him, but her eyes appeared unusually spiritless as she was suffering a bout of depression.
"Ah, it's you." She drawled, not even bothering to sit up.
Shirou approached her, dismissing Avalon within her as it had already expended the energy Saber Alter had charged into it.
"You're like a deflated balloon," he said, trying to get a reaction from her.
He got one, but it wasn't one he was expecting.
"What's a balloon?" She asked, rolling her head to stare at him.
Right, ancient Rome.
"No, never mind." Shirou changed his approach. "I guess a wilted rose is a better analogy?"
For a second, Nero looked offended as her spirits rose, only to fall just as quickly. "The Flower of Olympia does not wilt…or at least she shouldn't."
Shirou hummed, inwardly taken aback at how different Nero was acting. Something must have shocked her, and he'd get nowhere by guessing.
"Is there something wrong, Nero?" He asked her directly.
She looked at him, and swallowed, but she didn't answer. What was the point when it was already so evident?
Something was definitely troubling her. Her expression somehow screamed 'comfort me,' but she'd obviously never say such words as an emperor.
"No nevermind. A stupid question." Shirou realized his mistake. "Let me ask you something else. Whatever it is that's weighing on your mind, will you just lie down and take it? It doesn't seem like the type of thing the Nero I got to know would do."
Nero looked at him before biting down on her lower lip.
Rather than answer, she changed the entire topic to something that had everything to do with her current troubles, and yet didn't at the same time.
"Do you like me?" She asked such a loaded question out of the blue.
Taken aback, there was no way Shirou could immediately answer as all sorts of alarm bells began ringing in his head. He was really, really thankful that Saber Alter wasn't with him right now, but his silence had made him miss the opportune moment to reply.
Nero's expression flickered as she languidly sat up on her bed.
"Did you know? Everyone likes me," she said, bringing her legs up and hugging her knees. "I am Rome, and Rome is me. All are equally my people. Admiration, awe, and love are directed upon me wherever I go."
She looked at him, searchingly.
"Do you know the feeling?" She asked, speaking more to herself than to him as if something could be asserted by voicing her thoughts out.
"I bled for it," she mumbled.
"I live for it," she laughed.
"I revel in it," her voice grew weak. Weaker, and weaker still until finally.
"...It's all that I have." Those barely audible words were whispered out.
"Nero."
Shirou's voice was uncharacteristically sharp, Nero's head snapping up at the sound. Startled, she seemed to realize he was still there and grew sheepish, if just a little defensive about why she'd even bothered to say such things.
Perhaps she already knew, perhaps not.
As the emperor, she'd never dare to say such things to her own people, but Shirou and the people in Chaldea were outside that designation. Then again, maybe not.
"Umu, an emperor's joke." Nero quickly backtracked, trying to wave it off. "Don't take it too seriously."
Unfortunately, Shirou didn't have that option. He knew Nero's end all too well from the copy of her own sword in his Reality Marble to let such a careless remark go.
He may regret this choice later, but regardless, it was something that had to be done.
-When thrice she saw the setting sun, all it would have taken was the voice of one to save her, but even that never came.
In this regard, Shirou knew exactly what role he had to fill.
That one voice. If no one else, then let it be him.
"I like you," he said, following in Nero's example and throwing her entirely off.
"HUmugh?" The unintelligible sound she made as a reaction was credence to her bewilderment.
"I didn't answer before, but I know I can now." Shirou bit the bullet and continued headlong. "If it's between like or dislike, then I like you."
"Umu, you, what are you playing at?" Nero narrowed her eyes, craning her chin up from where she sat.
"Does it sound like I'm playing?" Shirou immediately replied, tone even.
Saber Alter was going to stone him for keeping such a straight face, let alone Jeanne Alter who's temper was like a volatile match lock.
He inwardly shuddered, but boldly persevered.
Nero was flustered, eyes swimming.
"I asked that prior question as a joke-"
"And I answered it with sincerity."
Silence ensued, the two staring at each other, Nero breaking away first in the awkwardness.
"No matter what's troubling you right now, or no matter what happens, I'll choose to believe in you until the end." Shirou gave his stance.
It was hard to swallow.
There was no doubt about it, but it didn't mean that it couldn't be true.
"Why?" The word left Nero's mouth, her expression carefully blank.
"Because I like you. So, I'll believe in you even if there comes a time when no one else will."
Nero pursed her lips, then opened her mouth.
"Get out." She got up and pushed him towards the door. "Who would believe that? Umu, you must think this emperor is a fool."
'Who would believe that? At the very least, perhaps you would.'
Nero's agitation was telling, but the reaction was better than intended.
A little life returned to her eyes, followed by a flare of competitive spirit.
Good.
A part of Shirou grew relieved the moment he was kicked out and Nero shut the door behind him.
So long as there was a spark, there could still be a fire. The Nero that shone the brightest in the history revealed through Aestus Estus, was the one that laughed in the face of adversity rather than cave against it.
Sometimes, even the most depressed can hang on with the support of even just one.
Besides, it wasn't as if Nero would be able to remember anything upon the Singularity's conclusion anyway.
/-/
The location in which magic energy runs through the earth and gathers at a point is known as a leyline. In Rome, that leyline was located in none other than the construction site of the Domus Aurea.
Due to the wars and fighting, much of the construction was halted and the space was cordoned off by fence posts. However, several visitors were currently setting up bases in the construction zone.
It was none other than Chaldea.
Mash and Ritsuka were busy finishing the final diagrams to set up Chaldea's summoning circle over Mash's shield, while Shirou, Saber Alter, Jeanne Alter, and a certain emperor were watching.
"What is she doing here?" Saber Alter crossed her arms and stared at Nero.
Funnily enough, it was Mash that stiffened at Saber Alter's inquiry as if she'd done something wrong.
"She wanted to watch." Mash said, chuckling dryly.
"And you let her?" Saber Alter raised a brow.
Mash wilted.
"It was supposed to help clear up her doubts about Servants…should I not have?" Mash lowered her head while Saber Alter pulled a face at the display.
There was no reason to get frustrated with Mash when Nero was the one Saber Alter was truly frustrated with.
"What are you wearing?" Saber Alter bristled, finally turning her gaze on Nero.
"Don't you know?" Nero did a twirl, showing off her newest black dress. "Black is the new red these days!"
A subtle expression crossed Saber Alter's face before she thought about it, and unexpectedly agreed. "You're right. Which means I have no need to be your double for any longer."
"You can't!" Nero shook her head in disapproval, earning a glare from Saber Alter and a chuckle from Jeanne Alter.
"Why must I pose as you if you are now well?" Saber Alter argued.
Competition. It was obvious to Shirou when it came to Nero's current obsession.
"I insist! I hear you've been doing well." Nero placed her hands on her hips and implored Saber Alter with a fire in her eyes.
"And I refuse." Saber Alter didn't even entertain the notion. She didn't want to, but you can't always get what you want.
A beep echoed before Romani's voice sounded in the air through a holographic reflection.
["Now Saber, hold on a moment."]
"Ah, the magician speaks!" Nero nodded. "Good, convince her. An emperor's role is not to convince the competition."
Saber Alter said nothing and stared flatly at Romani, daring him to try to spin a method of convincing when there was none she'd accept.
Sweat poured down Romani's brow, the man swallowing nervously. He knew that there was merit in Saber Alter remaining as Nero's double as it was evident that someone was out for Nero's life.
If Nero died now, that was it. The Singularity was over. A game over. A failure.
As Nero's substitute, Saber Alter could draw the enemy's attention away, while keeping Nero's whereabouts unknown.
Sensing Romani's difficulty, Ritsuka offered an out.
"Let's consider our plan a bit later? Maybe with Caesar and everyone else around?" Ritsuka proposed.
He nodded towards Shirou to help him out before then indicating that he and Mash had finished setting down the summoning circle.
Fortunately, Saber Alter wasn't irrational and agreed with Ritsuka's suggestion.
"Umu. You're right. It doesn't make sense to have to go over everything twice. We will discuss this later!" Nero nodded as if she had thought of the idea herself.
Saber Alter rolled her eyes at Nero, but let it go as Shirou wasn't saying anything.
Clearing his throat, Ritsuka decided that it was best to get started before Nero and Saber Alter's clashing personalities left any casualties.
"Then, I'll summon first."
Ritsuka stretched his hand out towards the summoning circle, several spheres of light rotating around Mash's shield.
With the summoning circle now established, Ritsuka and Shirou now had access to the Spirit Origins of Heroic Spirits registered in Chaldea's database. Rather than going for a random summon, the registered Spirit Origins could be used to directly summon a Servant already in Chaldea, minimizing the chance of uncertainty.
This Servant pool was one that all Masters of Chaldea could draw from including Olga and Ophelia.
From the Servants he'd met in Orleans, Ritsuka had already spoken with those he wished to summon in advance.
In the light of the summoning circle, Jeanne appeared with a light smile, Sieg next, then finally Martha.
Jeanne Alter scowled the moment Jeanne appeared, realizing they'd be working together this time and not against each other. However, she stared at Sieg just a little longer recalling that he had a dragon form which could pair exceedingly well with her. If nothing else, she could throw it at Saber Alter as a diversion while she had a tryst with the Master.
T-Then a kiss.
Her face burned, but Jeanne Alter chuckled to herself in determination. Saber Alter would weep at her inevitable victory.
Neither Saber nor Jeanne Alter noticed that Nero kept subtly peeking thoughtful glances at Shirou the entire time.
Shirou stepped up to the summoning circle after Ritsuka.
He already had Saber and Jeanne Alter who were directly contracted with him. Chaldea supplied him with the magic energy for their upkeep, but this didn't mean he couldn't summon.
The more help they had, the better, and it was foolish to refuse.
The only difference between Shirou and Ritsuka, was that Shirou leaned more towards a random summon than drawing from Chaldea's summoning pool. After all, it wasn't as if he managed to really connect with any of the new Servants from Orleans other than Jeanne Alter. Most of them had come after forming a rapport with either Ritsuka or Olga, and not him. Then again, there was one Servant who had expressed great interest in partnering with him.
Said Servant had been summoned outside of Orleans and Fuyuki.
Shirou paused and considered it, only to make up his mind when he figured that there was no harm.
Reaching his hand out to the summoning circle overlaid atop Mash's shield, he connected with Chaldea's Spirit Origin Archive and called a particular Servant forth.
A man appeared wearing boisterous stage clothes, a red cloak cape and a renaissance hat. His features were rugged and slightly unkempt as if to reflect a life of constant absorbance into his work. He had brown hair, an angular European face, and a mischievousness that screamed bad news.
"Caster, William Shakespear," the man grinned, a hand ruffling his trimmed beard, wrinkled eyes twinkling with anticipation. "I'm glad you've taken me up on my request. For a writer, there is nothing more agonizing than failing to bear witness to an unraveling play."
And that was why Shirou had reservations about this. The play Shakespeare was talking about was nothing else but Shirou's own life, and that of the ensuing cast of the Grand Order.
"Ugh, well, sure." Shirou coughed into his hand and tried to move on to his actual summoning.
"Greetings, your Majesty," Shakespear tentatively nodded at Saber Alter, features slightly stiff for reasons Shirou would not know.
Saber Alter gave Shakespear a flat stare. In the end, she said nothing much to Shakespear's relief.
Attention soon shifted back to Shirou after Caster's arrival.
He would be attempting his first random summon as a Master of Chaldea.
Summons generally resonate through a catalyst. To summon without a catalyst would mean the Master and Servant are almost always related in some manner either through character or even a set purpose.
It was the same for Shirou on that fateful night when he'd first summoned the original Saber. The motivations of each were reflections of each other's ideals.
In this case, Shirou hoped that whoever responded to him would be able to get along with Jeanne and Saber Alter.
Watching the swirling patterns of the Saint Quartz given as tribute, doubt flickered across his expression at the barest hints of black abruptly mixed in with a wave of turbulent gold. It was only for a fraction of a second, and was immediately drowned by what then appeared to be a rainbow color.
Was he the only one that noticed it?
The others didn't seem to react.
A chill traveled down Shirou's back, goosebumps forming over his skin from an ominous premonition.
From the Throne of Heroes, a Servant answered Shirou's call, only to fall forward the moment she materialized, utterly unresponsive.
The Servant was unconscious and showed no signs of waking, but that wasn't as important as the Servant's appearance that everyone quickly took in.
.
.
.
The area fell into uncharacteristic silence, as no one knew how to interpret what their eyes could see.
Staring at Nero, and then to the comatose form of the Servant who'd answered his call, Shirou's mouth locked shut as he had the dreadful realization that this could be his fault.
It was neither uncertainty nor suspicion. Rather, it was grief.
He was the summoner, and now that he thought about it, not once in his entire life had he ever performed a proper summoning.
He'd botched it up again.
— Novo capítulo em breve — Escreva uma avaliação
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