Beta read by Shigiya and Paragon of Awesomeness
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-The Capital-
'Everything hurts…'
That thought surfaced first, spreading through his head as Wave stirred awake from what barely qualified as a nap. His body answered immediately with protest. Muscles ached deep beneath the skin, stiff and uncooperative, still paying the price for the confrontation with Stylish. His thoughts felt thick and unfocused, crowding in without order, each one demanding attention while offering no information. It took him several moments just to breathe steadily and convince himself to move.
With a low groan, he forced his arms to push against the mattress and sat up. The motion sent a dull throb through his ribs and shoulders persistently, like a reminder he could not ignore. He exhaled through his nose and waited for the discomfort to settle before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Standing took effort, more than he liked to admit, but he managed; planting his feet firmly on the floor as he took in his surroundings.
The room assigned to him was modest by the standards of the Capital. A small table and chair sat against one wall, clearly meant to double as a study space. The bed was only large enough for one person, its sheets plain but clean. A nightstand rested beside it, empty except for a cup of water. Off to the side was another door leading to a private bathroom. For someone serving at a higher level within the army, it was basic. For Wave, it felt almost luxurious. He still remembered deployments where he shared cramped quarters on a ship with four other marines, each of them packed together with gear, weapons, and the smell of salty sweat that never quite left.
"It doesn't seem too bad," he muttered to himself as he stepped toward the mirror.
His reflection looked tired but intact. His armor had done its job… mostly. There were no deep cuts or open wounds visible, but the bruising told a different story. Dark patches spread beneath the skin, evidence of impacts his body had absorbed. Most of the damage lay beneath the surface. Mended bones, strained tendons, and muscles that complained with every movement.
Still, he was standing. Breathing. That alone put him ahead of others. He thought briefly of Bolas, who had taken the field without armor at all. Muscle alone did not stop steel, not even a dull blade.
His stomach growled.
"Holy hell I'm hungry," he said, acknowledging the demands of his body as he reached for the door.
The hallway led him toward the common lounge shared by the Jaegers. The space was warm, the fireplace already lit, though almost all of the rest of the group was absent. Papers and books were spread across a table near the fire, and seated among them was a single figure. Run sat upright despite the bandages wrapped around his torso and arms.
His injuries looked severe, yet his posture was relaxed, and his expression calm.
Wave frowned slightly. "Shouldn't you be resting, Run?"
Run looked up and offered a small smile. "Oh, Wave. Glad to see you're awake. Don't mind me. I'm just going through some records the soldiers scavenged from what was left of Stylish's lab."
"Records?" Curiosity nudged aside Wave's fatigue and hunger. He stepped closer and picked up a nearby stack of papers, flipping through them. Lines of dense writing filled the pages, packed with unfamiliar terms and diagrams. He scanned a paragraph, then another, before his brow creased in confusion. "What is a ste… stemog… stemmak… mock-eh?"
"It's the sternocleidomastoid muscle," Run replied evenly. "It runs along the side of the neck and is used for tilting and rotating the head."
Wave made a face and set the papers back down. "All of this is way too complicated. Can you even understand it?"
"Partially," Run said. "I've worked with people who use similar terminology, though this goes quite a bit further than most. It's bewildering how he chose to write like this even in his personal notes instead of using more common language. I suspect he believed plain words were beneath him."
That comment made something click. Wave reached for the back of one of the books, his eyes catching the name written there. "All this belonged to Stylish?"
"It did," Run confirmed. "There were many more. Most were burned by the fire or destroyed by those creatures. The ones that were exposed to those chemicals he concocted had to be discarded to avoid contamination. The smell alone was unbearable, worse than the latrine at the soldiers' barracks."
Wave recoiled slightly. "Seriously? Come on, I just woke up. Don't make me empty my stomach this early."
Run chuckled softly, returning his attention to the papers as the fire crackled beside them.
"Weren't you a navy marine yourself rather recently? I'd have figured you were rather accustomed to roughing it out with your fellow soldiers." The question came out casually, but there was a note of genuine curiosity behind it.
Wave huffed and shifted his weight where he stood, one hand pressing against his side as if to remind himself that moving too fast was still a bad idea. "That doesn't mean I enjoyed being stationed in places where my teammates did not even have the decency to maintain proper hygiene in a shared bathroom. Our commander had us clean those places several times a day. In most cases my house was nearby where we'd docked or were stationed, so I just went there instead."
Run nodded at that, his attention returning to the open books spread across the table. The pages were old, some stained at the edges, others filled with cramped handwriting that made the eyes ache after too long.
"So what's going on here?" Wave asked. He pulled a chair back and lowered himself into it with a barely suppressed groan, taking a few seconds to adjust until the pain dulled enough for him to sit properly. "Are you expecting to replicate what he became, just without the whole being evil part?"
Run let out a brief chuckle, the sound dry and tired rather than amused. "I don't have that kind of experience, or the knowledge, or the budget and resources to even replicate a tenth of what he did. Not to mention my morals, which would get in the way the moment innocent bystanders would need to be involved in an experiment."
"You could always use convicted criminals," Wave said, only half joking.
"Hahaha. I wouldn't mind that as much," Run replied, shaking his head. "But jokes aside, I am mostly reading these out of curiosity. A lot of it is just his own notes about various experiments and creations he's conducted over the years. Some of these, though, are logs and letters he received and sent to other people within the Empire."
That made him straighten despite the discomfort. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his expression tightening. "You're hoping to find people who Stylish collaborated with? Who might be trying to do the same thing he did?"
"No. That will not happen," Run answered calmly. "As far as we can tell, he did not share his research or studies with anyone else."
Wave released a slow breath he had not realized he was holding. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with another mad scientist or his twisted abominations. The memories were still there, lingering in uncomfortable detail inside his mind. The feeling of something foreign inside his body, the lack of control, the cold tendrils trying to get inside when he realized it was not letting go. Even now, the thought of those slimy tentacles made his stomach twist.
The relief did not last long.
"That is," Run continued, "if someone did not steal it right under his nose, or before we could secure it once he was killed."
"Oh for fuck's sake," the guy snapped, the words spilling out before he could stop them. He clenched his fists against his thighs. "Both of us, along with Bols, nearly got possessed last time! I don't think we would survive a second encounter. Even General Esdeath had to use that ridiculous ability, and it still incapacitated her for a short while. In our current state, we would not be able to do anything!"
"Calm down," Run said, raising one hand in a placating gesture. "Like I said, even if someone did steal the research, it would take time to replicate it. Not only was Stylish a genius in his field, but the Teigu he had, Perfector, allowed him to greatly accelerate his research. With it in our custody, I doubt they would achieve the same level of success as someone like Stylish. Instead, look at these."
He slid a few files across the table. Wave picked them up and skimmed the first page, then the second. His brow furrowed.
"Captain Ogre?" he said. "And Lieutenant Ubiquitous," he added, pointing to another name. "Is it talking about Seryu? Wait hold on, she wasn't a lieutenant until the general promoted her to the rank herself, but his document goes back years. I feel like I've heard that other name before too."
"Good catch," Run replied. "Though I can't really blame you for not recognizing them, as they both died before you ever came to the Capital, one of them years ago. But both of them were people that Seryu treasured. Captain Ogre was her superior and mentor for virtually her entire career as a soldier. As for the other man, he was Seryu Ubiquitous' father."
That caught Wave's attention immediately. He looked up from the papers, then back down again, reading more carefully. He had not spoken much with Seryu before she vanished shortly before things came to a head with the crazy doctor, and at this point he realized that she was most likely dead. \But they had still been close enough to mutually respect each other as comrades.
"I don't get it," Wave said. "Why bring this up if you're looking for collaborators? Both of these men are already dead."
Run shook his head slowly. "I remember having a conversation with Seryu about her past, why she wanted to join the Jaegers in the first place. She told me a lot about Captain Ogre, and a few things about her family. These documents completely contradict the story she told me."
That got Wave's full attention. He leaned closer to the table, eyes scanning the lines with renewed focus. The more he read, the stranger it became. Confusion settled first, then a sense of disbelief that made his jaw tighten. His grip on the papers grew firmer as anger crept in, slow and heavy.
"What the fuck is this?" he muttered. "Seryu looked up to that crazy bastard to the point she was hanging off his every word, and from what you say she respected this Ogre guy at least as much. But this… both her role models conspired to kill her own father!"
Run sighed and pushed himself to his feet, this time relying on a crutch. He moved past Wave and placed a hand on his shoulder, the touch brief but steady. "Just another victim of the corruption festering in this place. By faking Lieutenant Ubiquitous' death, Ogre had no viable competition for his promotion to captain, and Stylish had himself a prime research specimen… until those experiments genuinely killed him. It is too late now. Both the man and his daughter are already gone, and we cannot do much about it since the perpetrators are themselves dead. I brought this to your attention out of respect for a fallen comrade, but I would advise you not to dwell on it too much. You will only make yourself angrier."
Run began to walk away, but then paused near the doorway. "General Esdeath mentioned that she wanted us all in the meeting room in an hour. It would be best not to keep her waiting, especially given how irritable she has been lately."
With that, Run left the room, the sound of his footsteps fading down the corridor. Wave remained seated for a while longer. The documents in his hand half-crinkled from his tightened grip, the paper folding in on itself. His expression was set in clear frustration, his jaw clenched as he stared down at the words.
"Just how many more people like this are going to show up in this fucking city," he murmured. "She's already gone, so don't let this matter cloud your mind. It sounds heartless, but we have no choice."
He was tired. Not just physically but also mentally despite having just woken up. Part of him wished that he could find even one decent person among the higher ranks. Even a single example would help. As it was, his view of the Empire only grew darker with each passing day.
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Walking toward the main courtyard, it would have been a lie to say that Wave could focus on anything in front of him. His mind was a tangled mess after what he had just learned, details looping again and again no matter how hard he tried to push them aside.
Corruption, false accusations, and assassinations were not foreign concepts to him. He had dealt with situations like that more than once in the past, seen what people were capable of when power mixed with greed or ambition.
He should not have been this affected… Except this time, it involved someone he had once considered a valued comrade, maybe even a friend. That personal connection made the sense of dissatisfaction of knowing true justice brought about by the Imperial system itself would never be served sink deeper, like something was lodged in his chest that refused to move.
"You look sad. I can make you feel better."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. A shadow slid in beside him without warning, matching his pace. He turned his head just enough to see her clearly as sunlight caught her features. Bright pink hair spilled down her neck, almost glowing under the open sky. Glasses reflected the light, hiding her eyes for a moment before she tilted her head. She wore a short frilled dress that barely did its job, the fabric riding high on her thighs, thin enough that one careless movement could expose far more than it should. A wide grin sat on her face, the kind many people called cute or charming.
To Wave, it felt slimy, the expression sitting wrong on her face in a way that made his skin crawl.
"I am not in the mood for this, Cosmina."
He did not bother masking the dissatisfaction in his voice when he said her name. Everything about her presence irritated him, especially after what he had witnessed her do to prisoners not long ago.
"No need to look like that. It hurts my feelings, you know," Cosmina replied, her tone light and teasing. "You look so handsome whenever you have a smile, though I suppose you are even cuter when you are angry."
Wave said nothing. He kept walking, eyes forward, heading toward the area they had been assigned to work in together. Cosmina stayed beside him, matching his stride as if she belonged there.
"It is a little unfair, you know," she continued. "You never look at Dorothea or Kurome the way you look at me. Especially Kurome. You are always so gentle with her. It makes me jealous. Are you attracted to her because she has nice breasts? No, that cannot be it. I am bigger than her. Look, you can check for yourself if you want. I do not mind."
As she spoke, she tugged the top of her dress down just enough to expose the upper curve of her nipples. The motion was deliberate, practiced. The sight caught Wave off guard for a brief moment, his steps faltering before he forced himself to recover. He took a slow breath, turning his gaze away, though he could not stop a faint red color from creeping onto his face.
"They are different," he said, his voice tight. "Dorothea has her quirks, and Kurome is quiet most of the time. You, on the other hand, I want nothing to do with a rapist."
"A rapist? How absurd," Cosmina exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks into a pout. She gently punched his shoulder with her fist, the gesture playful on the surface. Wave did not react. He continued to ignore her, his jaw set. "Why would you label me with something so awful? I am an idol. I sing. I make people's hearts flutter."
"Whatever you say," Wave replied flatly, the sarcasm clear.
Cosmina did not stop. "Are you actually feeling bad for those people back at the bandit fort? Oh, come on. It has been so long already. Just get over it."
"Get… over it? Get over it!?" The words finally broke through what little restraint he had left. He stopped walking, turning toward her, anger rising fast. "How can you even say something like that!? Do you have any idea what you have done!? Do you even have a conscience!? Or a soul!?"
"It is not even rape. You are exaggerating," Cosmina said, waving her hand dismissively. Her tone remained casual, almost bored. "I am very skilled, you know. By the end of it, they were enjoying every moment like animals in heat. They got what they wanted too, so how can it be rape? Let me guess, you have not slept with anyone in a long time. Or ever; I can always tell. How about I prove it to you? Take me for a spin yourself. By the end, you will understand."
Wave felt his patience stretch thin, each second pushing him closer to losing control. His fists clenched at his sides, muscles tight, veins standing out along his forearms. A pulse throbbed in his temples as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.
"Alright, I have had enou—" he started, only to freeze mid-sentence.
Something small shoved itself between them without warning, forcing space where there had been none. A black-haired girl stepped forward, pushing herself between Wave and Cosmina. She walked ahead as if nothing unusual had happened, chewing on a handful of candies with a slow, steady rhythm.
"Kurome?" Wave said, surprise cutting through his anger.
"We are going to be late if we waste time," Kurome replied, her voice flat and uninterested. "General Esdeath is waiting for us."
"Ah, we should hurry then. I do not want her to get all cranky again and kill another one of us, or turn us into a nice sculpture for decoration. I still do not think the last one has even melted yet. She can be such a scary woman," Cosmina said in a bright, almost playful tone.
She skipped ahead while humming to herself, boots tapping lightly against the stone path. The sound faded as she moved farther away, her carefree attitude clashing with the words she had just spoken. Watching her leave finally gave Wave some space where he could breathe properly. His shoulders eased, and the tension he had been holding in his chest slowly loosened.
He turned toward his partner and offered her a small smile. "Thank you."
She did not reply. Instead, she raised her thumb in a quick gesture, her eyes already drifting back to the small bag in her hand. She reached in again, pulling out another candy and popping it into her mouth with practiced ease. After chewing for a moment, she spoke calmly. "I do not have a lot left in reserve."
"Those things?" Wave asked, nodding toward the candies. "I can get some for you as a thank you. I really cannot stand that woman, so I am grateful you stepped in before I did something I would regret. Well, maybe not regret, but it would definitely land me in a lot of trouble. Either way, I will get you more of these. Tell me which bakery you bought them from and I will buy you enough to last an entire year."
He finished his offer with a light laugh, only to realize a second later that it was pointless. Even if he bought that many, the sweets would spoil long before they could be eaten. He expected her to brush it off or mock him, but instead she frowned, her brows drawing together slightly.
"You cannot. No one can," she said.
"Oh?" Wave replied. "Did the store close down or something?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. The only one who could make this is dead now. Forget it. Let's just go."
"Hey, wait," Wave said, reaching out without thinking.
She did not stop, simply turned and walked away. Wave let his hand fall back to his side as he watched her go, his thoughts circling around those candies. There was something strange about them… The amount she consumed alone was unusual. More than once, when he had tried to take one out of curiosity, her reaction had been… intense, to say the least. At one point, he had felt something close to genuine killing intent aimed directly at him.
Even Run, who usually noticed everything, had given those sweets a wary look. The blond fighter had not said much, but his silence spoke enough: something was wrong about the way Kurome consumed those things. But without actually examining one of them, all they could do was guess.
Wave rubbed the back of his head and decided he would look into it another time, when things were calmer.
Moving ahead, Wave came to the threshold of their destination. Several familiar faces were seated together in the large room, though their numbers were thinner than they had been just a few days ago. Bols was still not in any condition to return, his injuries forcing him to rest longer than expected. Stylish and Seryu were no longer present, of course.
Even after everything the mad doctor had done, including trying to turn him and his comrades into living puppets, the current state of the Jaegers brought a dull sense of sadness to Wave's chest.
From the beginning, he had wanted their team to succeed. He wanted them to become a real unit, one that could protect people instead of tearing itself apart. Yet every time they regrouped, there were fewer of them, and it wasn't even because of their enemies.
Though between the pirate and the doctor, Wave honestly couldn't argue about General Esdeath's thinning of the ranks. As for Seryu, that was because of Stylish's manipulations.
Just one more way he'd ruined her life.
"General."
Despite the former Wild Hunt's usual lack of discipline, the moment she arrived, their behavior changed. They straightened up and saluted without hesitation. The original Jaegers did the same.
"Good. You are all here," Esdeath said.
After the battle against Stylish, she had suffered what most would call severe injuries. Yet now she stood before them without a single mark on her body to be found. Her blue hair rested neatly against her shoulders and back, her uniform pristine, as if nothing had happened. Wave glanced down at his own armor, noticing the lingering dents and bruises beneath it. Compared to her, he looked like the one who had been dragged through hell and back — or thrown into a meat grinder.
"I will not beat around the bush. As many of you may already be aware, and for those few of you who are not, I will say it plainly now. Stylish and Seryu are no longer part of the Jaegers. For their actions in betraying the Empire, and more importantly in betraying me, death was the only outcome they should have expected."
The overall shift in the environment as immediate as those words were processed. Wave could understand the judgment passed on Stylish well enough, but Seryu was different because he knew in his heart she had been manipulated by that bastard scientist. For a very long time, as he'd recently found out.
For his own sake, he said nothing.
"Well, that man had it coming," Dorothea said immediately while rolling her eyes.
She did not look surprised. If anything, she seemed entertained. A small laugh escaped her, the sound oddly sweet given the subject. "Stylish was always way over his head about everything. He thought the world owed him praise just for breathing. An ego the size of a mountain is bound to collapse and crush such a fragile little man once reality finally comes knocking. So much for the once-in-a-millennium genius, or whatever he liked to call himself. What a dumbass."
"Weren't you pretty to him?" Cosmina asked innocently. "I thought you would be sad about the news. From what I remember, you were at his laboratory every single day, staying there for hours."
At that, Esdeath turned her gaze towards Dorothea. The shift alone was enough to make the young-looking blonde scientist stiffen.
With noticeable effort, the girl avoided looking at Esdeath and instead shifted her attention to her idol-themed teammate. "S-Shut your mouth!" Dorothea snapped, twisting slightly in her place. "You are making it sound like I had something to do with what happened! He was studying a field of research I have dabbled in before. I was curious about his perspective and wanted to compare notes, but of course he was being a cagey bastard about everything he was working on. When he did speak to me he was trying to get me to be his fucking assistant, but I've got better things to do than be someone's gofer so I walked out. That's it, end of story."
"Really?" the pink haired former member of the Wild Hunt said calmly. "What a shame. I thought you were doing something way more fun, like getting down and dirty with him."
"Why you little slut!" Dorothea spat.
Her hand moved fast, fingers closing around the hilt of a dagger at her side. The metal caught the light as it cleared its sheath. For a brief second, it seemed like blood might spill right there on the table, the others around her did not even care to try and stop her.
Then she froze.
Dorothea's eyes widened, breath catching in her throat as sweat began to form along her brow. Color drained from her face as she realized she could not move her hand at all. Her gaze dropped downward, following the pressure clamped around her wrist. At some point she had not even noticed, Esdeath had stepped close and closed her hand over the other woman's wrist.
Her grip was firm and unyielding, fingers locked like iron.
The imposing woman looked down at her, expression unreadable… For a moment, Wave saw genuine fear in those eyes reflecting back. Dorothea swallowed and forced her lips into a smile.
"Forgive me," Dorothea said quickly. "I did not mean to offend. I was not going to actually attack her. I was just hoping she would shut up."
"Hm," was Esdeath's only reply.
She plucked the dagger from the smaller woman's grasp with ease and stepped back to her original position, placing the weapon aside as if it were nothing more than a misplaced tool. After that brief display, the room changed. No one dared speak, no one dared to even breathe without permission, and not a soul even shifted so much as an inch.
"From the moment I created the Jaegers, I made my intentions clear," Esdeath continued. "This group was created as a test. A way for me to judge you, to observe you, and to select the best candidate to inherit the title of Beast."
Those words were not new.
Wave felt his hand tighten at his side as the memory resurfaced. Beast was not a title handed out lightly. It was not even officially recognized within the Imperial Army, yet it carried influence that rivaled high command. Some even compared it to a half step below a general and the fact that a former general had once held that title only added weight to it. If Wave could reach that position, he knew it would bring him so much closer to his goals. It would open up so many doors, and prepare him for whatever his military career threw at him.
"My initial plan was to sit back and observe," Esdeath said. "I wanted to see who performed best, who followed orders without hesitation, and who could think clearly when faced with an impossible situation. Many of you showed potential. But potential alone is only one requirement. It does not guarantee you a place among the chosen."
That was a given. If it was loyalty, then in the blue-haired man's opinion, most if not all of the remaining members of the original Jaegers checked that box, even Kurome in her own silent way. She came across as standoffish or aloof much of the time, but she still gave him the feeling of being quite loyal to their general in her own way. As for Bols and Run, Wave had nothing but respect for either of them, and he would shake their hands if they were ever selected over him to become Esdeath's Beasts.
As for the Wild Hunt though, he did not even need to spell it out.
Most, if not all, probably didn't even know the meaning of loyalty.
"But things have changed," their general said while crossing her arms. "With how new elements, new challenges, and new tribulations keep appearing, observing you all over time and judging you at the end is no longer viable."
She paused and looked over them. "Instead, we will use an age old method," she continued. "The last three surviving members will earn the title, regardless of who you are. Loyalty can be taught, and I have my ways to guarantee that such lessons will stick."
That was when the mood shifted. Heads turned slightly. Some avoided looking at each other altogether. Run remained still, eyes closed, his expression unchanged, as if he had already accepted the outcome no matter which way it fell. Kurome showed little reaction beyond a faint tilt of her head. Wave briefly wondered how Bols would have reacted if he were still here, then dismissed the thought just as quickly.
Among the Wild Hunt, reactions varied. Cosmina, who was usually loud and disturbingly cheerful, looked genuinely uneasy, her smile absent for once. Dorothea kept her face neutral, but her eyes were unfocused, clearly having her mind cluttered with thoughts. Izou looked as indifferent as ever, chewing on a stalk of grass as though this was simply another announcement among many. Champ shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the direction things were taking.
"And what better way to reach that conclusion," Esdeath said, "than to keep sending you all into the field. Which is why I will already be assigning you your next mission."
"Right now?" Wave asked before he could stop himself. He was genuinely caught off guard by that revelation. He did not disagree with the logic, but the timing felt off. "Bols is still recovering. It would be unfair for him."
A soft scoff came from nearby. Dorothea crossed her arms, one hand tapping lightly against her sleeve as she looked at him.
"Unfair?" she said. "First of all, it is not unfair. In fact, you could say his current condition gives him a better chance of surviving the next elimination round since he won't be going first. Second, fairness has never been a factor in life. If you are not up to the task or you get yourself injured right before a critical moment, then you have no one to blame but yourself."
Hearing such cold words from the young girl who usually acted sweet and exaggeratedly cute was jarring. For a moment, he honestly thought he had misjudged her. Then she gave him a wink, playful and calculated.
"If you feel threatened," Dorothea added, "you can always opt out and leave the Jaegers to then nestle under my wing. That way you will survive, and I can become a Beast. I am sure both of us would do an excellent job serving General Esdeath."
Right. She had not changed at all. He was foolish to be caught off guard by her act.
"Bols has already been informed of this decision by myself," Esdeath said, cutting in. "He agreed to it."
That final piece of information settled the matter. Knowing Bols and his unwavering loyalty to the Empire, it made sense. There was no protest from him now, and there would not be one later.
{Break}
(A few hours later)
"Damned forest."
The words left Wave's mouth as he pushed deeper into the dense foliage just beyond the Capital's outermost patrols. Thick roots jutted from the ground at uneven angles, forcing him to watch every step while branches snagged at his clothes and scraped against exposed skin. Leaves layered the forest floor so heavily that it was impossible to tell solid ground from hidden pitfalls or tripping hazards without testing the ground first. He had expected the mission to follow a familiar pattern. An ambush, a hideout raid, or the cleanup of some criminal band that had slaughtered imperial guards or merchants and stolen supplies before fleeing into the wilderness. That was how these things usually went. Straightforward in intent, if not always in execution.
Instead, Esdeath had given them something else entirely.
The criminals had scattered before the Jaegers even reached the designated location. No fortification, no central base, no opportunity to strike a decisive blow together. Each target had fled in a different direction, forcing the unit to split up right from the get-go. No teams, no support, no backup. Every member was sent out alone into unfamiliar terrain with little more than a rough direction and the order to pursue.
"This is ridiculous," Wave muttered as he shoved past a curtain of hanging vines.
He was not afraid for himself. Even with the bruises lining his ribs and the shallow cuts that still pulled painfully when he twisted his torso, his body had recovered enough to move. The worst of the internal damage from his previous battle had healed. His bones no longer screamed with every motion, though a dull ache remained in his arms and shoulders.
But he could and would fight if he had to. What concerned him more was Run. The man had been in no better condition than Wave, possibly worse, yet he had been sent out alone just the same. The thought sat poorly with him as he continued forward, each step heavier than the last.
"I can't even tell where I'm going. Feels like I've been walking for an hour," he grumbled to the trees, his voice swallowed almost immediately by the surrounding growth.
He used Grand Chariot in its base form, the sword carving a path through the undergrowth, snapping thin trunks and forcing stubborn branches aside. This forest was nothing like the land around his village. There, the trees were spaced far enough apart to see where you were generally headed. Here, everything pressed in close. One careless step could send a person tumbling down a concealed slope. One inattentive moment could end with an opportunistic Danger Beast getting the drop on you. Even Sleeping Danger Beasts could become lethal hazards if disturbed at the wrong time through carelessness.
"Just where the hell are yo—"
The sentence died in his throat as he stepped into a small clearing.
The trees parted just enough to let sunlight pour down, warm and bright against his skin. The ground was flatter here, the air lighter, as if the forest itself had loosened its grip. For a brief second, Wave felt his shoulders relax.
Then his instincts flared.
He was not alone.
Standing at the far end of the clearing between two trees was a single figure. No, not just a figure. The man was massive, built like a solid wall of muscle, his frame filling the space with ease. His head was completely bald, polished enough that when the wind briefly parted the trees above him, the sunlight reflected off it harshly, forcing Wave to squint. The man stood casually, hands resting at his sides, posture relaxed as if this were a meeting spot rather than a hunt.
"Took you long enough," the man said, his voice deep and loud, carrying effortlessly through the clearing. "I was starting to think you'd been eaten by some passing Danger Beast. That would've been a shame for General Esdeath, having a subordinate fall in such an embarrassing way. Still, I'm glad you finally showed up. We can exchange pointers at last. Hahaha!"
He laughed as he spoke, reaching down to tug at his pants and adjust them before straightening fully. The sound was heavy and confident, the laughter of someone who did not feel threatened in the slightest.
Wave tightened his grip on his weapon and stepped forward, planting his feet firmly on the ground.
"Look, pal, I don't know who you are or what your deal is," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "But I'd advise you to stand down and give up. You're under arrest by the Jaegers. Come back with me peacefully and you'll be put on trial. You'll at least have a chance to avoid execution. If you resist, then I'll be forced to use—gah!"
He never finished the sentence.
The man vanished.
One moment he'd been standing several meters away. Next, he was right in front of Wave.
A massive arm slammed into Wave's abdomen, the impact driving the air from his lungs in a single violent rush. Pain exploded across his torso as his body was lifted off the ground and sent flying.
The crash came less than a heartbeat later.
Wave's back smashed into a tree, the trunk splintering under the force. Wood fragments burst outward, scattering through the clearing. Vines tangled around his arms and legs, slowing him just enough to keep him from being thrown farther. He hit the ground hard, rolling once before forcing himself upright, his vision swimming.
He coughed to get his breath back, spat out the leaves in his mouth — relieved to not find any blood in his spit — and dragged in a breath, his chest burning.
"What kind of speed was that?" he muttered, struggling to steady himself.
He had barely seen the attack coming, let alone had time to react. His muscles still screamed from the sudden strain, and a familiar tightness spread through his midsection. He quickly assessed the damage. Painful, yes, but nothing felt ruptured. No warm wetness, no internal collapse. He grimaced.
"Damn it. I just barely recovered from that last fight. At least it doesn't feel like my organs are shredded again."
There was no point in dragging this out. In his current condition, playing defensive was just asking to be beaten into the dirt.
"Fine," Wave said under his breath as he pushed himself upright. "You asked for it."
Confident that he could still take this man on with his armor active, even with that frightening speed, Wave reached for his sword.
His hand closed around nothing.
"Eh?"
He froze, eyes dropping to his side. The scabbard hung empty against his hip. His weapon was gone.
A cold weight settled in his chest as he looked back up.
"Looking for this?"
The man stood several steps away now, his posture unchanged. Between two fingers, he casually held the hilt of Wave's sword, spinning it lazily as if it weighed nothing at all. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes locked onto Wave with open amusement.
"You should really be more careful with your trump card," the man continued. "The moment you lose it, you're no different from an ordinary man."
Wave stared at his weapon with his jaw hanging open, his fingers loosening around the grip as the weight of the moment finally settled in. The mistake he had made felt enormous, the kind that did not end in retreat or recovery, but in a quiet, final collapse. Facing this man was no different from stepping toward death, especially when that unnatural speed suggested the presence of another Imperial Arm. The way the man moved earlier had not been normal. It had not been human.
"I like it," the man said, turning the weapon in his hand as if inspecting a tool at a market stall. "It is sturdy, well-balanced, and made to cut clean. The kind of weapon meant to open up a soul rather than just flesh. I have decided. If you are not worthy enough to wield this, then it might as well go to someone who is. It is a fine choice for my first Imperial Arm, after all."
Wave felt a chill run through his arms. His first Imperial Arm? That meant the speed earlier had not come from a relic at all. It had come from the man himself.
Then the man burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! I am joking. Just joking."
He stiffened as the man's laughter echoed through the clearing, loud and unrestrained. Before Wave could even process what was happening, the man casually flung the weapon away behind him as if it were worthless scrap. It struck the ground somewhere out of sight. He then brought his fist down into his open palm with a solid thud.
"My own body is the only weapon I'll ever need," the man continued. "I am more than enough on my own. So do not disappoint me. Otherwise, I will not even grant you the satisfaction of burying your corpse after I free your soul."
Wave said nothing. His throat felt tight, and his breathing had gone shallow without him noticing. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move.
With no other choice left to him, Wave forced himself upright. His muscles protested, but he ignored them. This time, instead of reaching for the discarded weapon, his hand slipped inside his vest. His fingers closed around a small dagger hidden within his jacket. As he drew it free, his stance shifted, feet adjusting, shoulders lowering. His movements became tighter, built around shorter range and faster recovery.
The appearance of the dagger drew a brief pause from the man. His grin remained, but his eyes followed the blade with interest.
"Clever," the man said. "Looks like this might not be as dull as I expected. By the way, my name is Sten."
The former marine did not answer. He threw the dagger with all the strength he had left, putting his weight behind it and snapping his wrist at the last second.
Sten moved.
Two fingers appeared in front of his face, pinching the blade out of the air as if it had been gently placed there. The dagger stopped completely, trembling once before going still. Sten glanced at it, then tossed it aside and looked back at his opponent with a raised eyebrow, silently conveying what he thought of that maneuver.
Wave grinned awkwardly, "Just checking your reaction speed." Then he proceeded to retrieve another dagger from his jacket.
Sten's grin returned. "Hehehe, interesting. And who might you be?" he asked.
Wave felt worried, people that were usually big were always slow. He hoped to capitalize on that possible weakness but obviously he needed to employ a different strategy.
"The name's Wave. And from the looks of this," he said, "I might be completely screwed."
For the first time since arriving, he wondered if it was already too late to back away.
…
-Imperial Palace-
While clashes similar to the one unfolding between Wave and Sten erupted across the forest that bordered the Empire's Capital, the Imperial Palace itself remained calm. Inside one of its grand chambers, Honest stood by a tall window, gazing out at the city beyond. He held a hand mirror up to his face, tilting it from side to side while his other hand ran slowly through his hair.
"Are you still trying to find bald spots on your head, Honest?" a childlike voice asked.
Honest let out a weary sigh. "I am afraid so, Your Majesty. When I took my bath this morning, I noticed I seem to be losing more hair than usual of late."
He continued studying his reflection, then shifted his gaze toward the corner of the mirror. There, seated at the far end of the table, was the young Emperor. The table itself was covered in a lavish spread on Honest's side, rich meats and ornate dishes arranged with care. In contrast, the Emperor seemed perfectly content with a simple plate of fruit and a glass of juice. It was a rare occasion for the child to visit Honest's chambers and share a meal, something that happened only on infrequent, carefully controlled visits.
"It is probably stress," the Emperor said. "I know you are doing everything you can to help manage the Empire. But you should also take care of yourself."
Honest turned fully now, offering a polite smile. "Your concern honors me, Your Majesty."
The Emperor looked down at his plate, his expression briefly clouded. "I wish I were more capable. If I were, I could lessen the burden I place on you."
Honest laughed, loud and reassuring. "Please, rest easy. It is my duty to shoulder these burdens. I made a promise to your parents, and I will fulfill it with everything I have to my dying breath. This current situation regarding my hair is only temporary. Once I eliminate the forces threatening to drag our beautiful Empire into chaos, my hair will return just as thick as it was in my prime."
"That is good to hear," the Emperor said, smiling faintly.
They exchanged smalltalk after that, light conversation meant to appear casual. All throughout though, Honest kept his attention fixed on the young child, careful to guide the discussion and keep it harmless. Allowing the Emperor too much freedom of thought was not something he could afford. As he spoke, Honest noticed a folded letter resting on the table beside him.
He was certain it had not been there moments earlier.
Without hesitation, he opened it and scanned its contents. His expression did not change, but his eyes sharpened slightly. Folding the letter again, he turned back to the Emperor.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Honest said smoothly. "There is an urgent matter that requires my attention. Please continue enjoying your meal. I will return within ten minutes."
The Emperor nodded without suspicion, reaching for another piece of fruit. "Do not let me hold you back. And if you need any assistance, let me know and I will do my best to help you as well."
"Your encouragement alone grants me the will to overcome any obstacle."
With a quick bow, the man left the dining room. He kept hold of a thick piece of roasted meat, grease staining his fingers as he continued to take piggish bites. The echoes of his steps followed him down the corridor as he made his way toward his study. The door was already open. Inside, a tall figure stood waiting, polished armor catching the light from the tall windows. His arms were crossed, posture rigid, as if the room itself was something to endure.
"Grand General Budo. What an honor to have you here. I was just sharing a meal with the Emperor. Would you care to join us?"
"I do not have time for your games, Honest. Test me again like you did last time, and you will find my patience gone."
Honest only smiled, unfazed by the blunt reply. He walked behind his desk, setting the half eaten meat aside on a silver plate and daintily wiping his hands with a handkerchief. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if the tension in the room did not exist.
"Ah, you're still upset about the incident involving the former Prime Minister. I cannot say I am surprised." He adjusted a stack of documents before looking up again. "Things have grown rather chaotic lately. You would not mind if I asked whether there has been any news about the escapee. What was her name again? Lansa?"
"Spear."
Budo corrected him without hesitation. Though he looked uncomfortable simply standing there, his state remained filled with discontent when facing the current Prime Minister.
After a brief pause, he took a seat across from the desk, armor creaking softly as he did. "She cannot be found anywhere within the Imperial Palace or surrounding district, and she was reported to have sustained severe injuries. It would take a miracle for her to survive those wounds, let alone escape the Capital. Most likely she fled into the sewers where she succumbed to her wounds or an infection, and her body has been taken by scavengers. We will not find a trace of her anytime soon."
"What a shame." Honest leaned back slightly in his chair. "Despite being our enemy, she was still the daughter of the former Prime Minister. If she had understood the path her father intended to walk, the bloodshed that would have followed had he succeeded, then perhaps she would have realized that I was left with no choice. I was forced to take drastic measures."
Bam!
Budo slammed his fist down onto the desk. The sound was heavy, wood groaning as thin cracks spread across the surface, though it remained intact. "Enough! Do not drag the past into this. I am still not finished with how you allowed conflict to erupt within the palace itself. This place is sacred. It is not meant to be stained by your personal vendettas."
"I will honor the words I gave you last time." Honest replied calmly, folding his hands together. "As you can see, the recent conflict involving Esdeath and her subordinate took place outside the palace grounds. The Emperor himself remained blissfully unaware of any unhappy business."
At the mention of the other General who was commonly regarded as being stronger than himself, Budo let out a low scoff. His expression tightened, lips pulling into a look of open contempt. "A failure. She cannot even control her own subordinates. For all the power she claims to wield, she is unfit to hold the title of General. Why you ever granted her that position is beyond my understanding."
Truthfully, Honest had recently begun to share that opinion. Back then, he had not fully grasped the kind of trouble he had invited into the Empire by allowing a woman like her to rise so high. Power had a way of growing teeth once unleashed. Still, regret served no purpose now.
"I received word from my men that you deployed the Four Rakshasa Demons."
Budo did not bother easing into the subject. He leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on Honest.
"I did." Honest answered without hesitation. "I have received information that one of our most trusted allies, who is also a high-ranking member of the Path of Peace, is being targeted by Night Raid."
"The Path of Peace?" Budo frowned, confusion crossing his face. "Those inhuman fools have been spreading discontent in the Empire for years. They practically side with the traitors of the Revolutionary Army. Why would you send the Rakshasas to protect anyone associated with them? It would be better if Night Raid did eliminate them. Let our enemies tear each other apart for us."
"That is where you are mistaken." Honest shook his head. "The Path of Peace is not our enemy. Their current leader is misguided, influenced by false ideals and the wrong people. Violence has never been their way. You know as well as I do that they would never resort to such extremes."
Budo straightened in his seat, the faint sound of metal following the motion. His eyes did not leave Honest. "You still have not answered my question."
"Let us just say I have it on good authority that the Path of Peace will soon be undergoing some… restructuring of its leadership," Honest said. His voice carried a calm confidence that felt practiced rather than natural. "The Lord has been facing more and more opposition lately. Ever since the former prime minister fell and word of his death reached his remaining allies, nothing has gone smoothly for him. He is desperate now. His judgment is dulling, even if he refuses to admit it."
Even though nothing was said outright, Budo understood the meaning behind those words almost immediately. Instead of feeling offended or uneasy, curiosity settled in his expression. He folded his arms, the metal of his gauntlets faintly scraping together as he spoke. "You plan on using the Rakshasas to kill the current Lord and having your man take his place?"
"Kill?" Honest laughed softly and shook his head. "You make it sound as though I am some mindless butcher. If we committed such a serious crime against a religious group, not very many people would be at all interested in walking the Path of Peace, would they? Trust me when I say the result will be far cleaner than that. The Empire will gain a powerful ally in its western region without needing to spill the blood of a single Imperial soldier."
That final statement was enough for Honest to notice the change in Budo. The Grand General looked pleased, his posture relaxing just slightly. For all his power and influence, Budo was easy to read. His reactions were honest and rarely hidden. Which was precisely why Honest preferred to keep him close. Despite their constant friction and Budo's open dislike of Honest's methods and policies, the man remained loyal to the Empire itself. To Honest, that loyalty mattered more than personal hatred ever could.
Especially when it was so easy to exploit.
"Will your Rakshasas even be enough to face Night Raid?" Budo asked after a moment. "You ordered me to have them trained again after their enhancements, and I will acknowledge that they have improved. Still, I cannot guarantee success. They might be able to kill one or two members at most, but that is where it would end. They still have no Teigus of their own."
"Which is why I sent the Jaegers as reinforcement," Honest replied without hesitation. "General Esdeath will be overseeing the entire operation from beginning to end."
"The Jaegers," Budo repeated. His dislike for Esdeath was no secret for those brave enough to take notice, and he had never tried to hide it. Even so, he did not extend that resentment to the soldiers under her command. To him, they were still soldiers of the Empire. As long as they followed orders and did their duty, he treated them fairly. "And you truly believe that will be enough?"
"I do not intend for the Rakshasas to die so easily," Honest said. "Their true purpose does not end with stopping Night Raid. That group will serve as nothing more than a stepping stone for what I intend to have them accomplish."
"What do you mean?" Budo asked.
Honest leaned forward, smiling wide enough for Budo to notice the faint yellow tint of his teeth. A trace of grease still clung to them from the meat he had eaten earlier, along with stringy bits still caught between his teeth.
One of Honest's hands on the table had the memento of his last face-to-face encounter with Esdeath on full display. Both his left pinky and ring finger had been unable to be saved and reattached from when she severed them, and had been replaced with metallic prostheses that barely moved.
"Tell me, Grand General. Do you not think that General Esdeath has started to become more of a liability than an asset to the Empire?"
"…"
The silence stretched between them. Budo did not answer, his eyes fixed on Honest as if weighing every word he had just heard.
Seeing no response, the rotund man continued speaking. "That recent attack was only a small preview of what lies ahead. If Esdeath and Emiya were to cross paths again, then there is a very real possibility that our beloved Capital might not survive, and that is not an outcome I am willing to just sit by and let happen. Not to mention, she has been getting more and more difficult to control lately; I fear that there has been a shift in her priorities lately, where her role as a servant of the Empire is starting to become more of an afterthought."
"Are you serious?"
Honest huffed. "There is no point keeping a dog around that is capable of biting the hand of its master at any moment. Rather than sitting around and waiting for that to happen, isn't it best if we make the necessary preparations ahead of time while we still can?"
{Break}
-Night Raid New Base-
Not a lot had changed since Bulat returned.
From Emiya's point of view, one could say that the overall atmosphere had returned to what it used to be like in the beginning.
Sheele was minding her own business, lost in reading her books. Mine spent some time with the newcomer, Chelsea, claiming to be keeping an eye on her. But from what he remembered seeing, the girl was just very interested in her new colleague's talent at applying makeup. The brunette even had the pinkette try out new hairstyles rather than her usual twintails. In a way, both were just having a good time.
Akame kept following him around, every day she'd be carrying a freshly killed Danger Beast on her shoulders that she wanted him to cook for her. Najenda spent some time going through various reports and assassination requests, with Leone of all people helping her out.
He did not expect the blonde assassin to be capable of such tasks, but from just a quick look, she had proven herself to be quite efficient.
Even her handwriting was better than both step-siblings. A defeat he had a surprisingly hard time accepting, and a sense of shame at the realization that he had genuinely tried hard to beat her in such a trivial thing.
A writing style so elegant and refined that clashed heavily with the personality she portrayed. If not for her current career path, he'd have said she had a clear future as an excellent secretary at the very least. Though of course she would need to tone down her usual behaviour.
As for the boys…
"Gah!"
"My leg!"
"I can't feel my arms!"
They were all in a state of pure suffering.
In the middle of the training field, four figures could be seen doing several kinds of exercise, just as they had for the last few hours. As the sun reached the highest point of solar noon, they now focused on doing push-ups. Each of them had done at least a hundred by now, with Tatsumi and Lubbock having reached their limits and squirming on the ground with tears streaming down their faces.
"Don't give up just yet! If you still have energy to cry then you still have energy to do more! Even my grandmother could keep going after this much, and she's been dead since before I was born!"
In order to achieve the best outcome with his new Teigu and to use it at its full potential by maximizing his own, Bulat had practically tripled his usual training regime, pushing it to such a ridiculous extent that it could officially be called pure torture. And unfortunately, he had invited every man in Night Raid to join him, which included Emiya.
"Look, even Emiya here can still go on! If you want arms like him and me then you better start doing more! Lubbock, You won't catch a woman's attention with those twigs you call limbs!" Bulat shouted while continuing to do more reps, both him and Emiya sweating like crazy under the blazing sun as they continued to exercise. The latter could feel his back and arms burning, but thankfully his muscles — having been rigorously trained to use his bow which required an enormous amount of back strength to just pull the string, and his usual combat style forcing both arms to be as developed as they could be — had yet to show any signs of giving out.
But that did not mean one could keep this kind of rate going forever.
"Both of you are crazy! At least give us a moment to rest! Our muscles will be ruined rather than grow from all this," Tatsumi begged while Lubbock started throwing up in the background. "I can feel my bones grinding against one another and cracking with each movement!"
"That's just your mind trying to limit you by coming up with excuses. Don't listen to it, turn it off and keep on going until you black out! I would know, I've been doing the same lately and look at the results, hahaha!"
There was no point in negotiating with him, the man had turned into a training maniac. At the rate he was going, Emiya figured they would be stuck here until evening, and that was not something he wanted to experience.
The man had other matters to attend to.
"Help us out here, Emiya!"
Seeing the opportunity presented to him, a moment of silence passed as he finished his set before he sat down while taking a deep breath and began stretching arms out. "He's right. At this rate, they'll just end up injuring themselves even more than getting anything beneficial from this. And they might start to hide from you during your next session. Best to take this slowly and have them adapt with time."
Bulat did not outright deny his words, humming and brewing with his thoughts until he sighed and ended up nodding. "I suppose so. It's just, I see a lot of potential in them, it would be a shame if I couldn't help them reach that goal as soon as possible."
"Well they don't seem that far off already, their fighting styles also do not require that big of a body, especially for Lubbock who is more stealth focused."
As they continue to talk and convince Bulat to reduce the amount of work on everybody, from the corner of his eye, Emiya saw someone approaching them. That someone was holding a stack of papers with a lit cigarette in her mouth.
His stern glare only earned him an eye roll. "Give me a pass on this one. Things have been far too stressful lately and you know it."
"Hah… did something happen, Najenda?" he asked, deciding to give her a free pass this time and agreeing that she was also under a lot of pressure lately. The other boys also quieted down and focused on their leader.
"I know that things haven't been easy lately, having to deal with one monster after the other, we've taken quite the punishment and morale hasn't been the best so far. Even with Bulat having returned, I can tell people are still worried about the Empire sending another large-scale invasion and destroying our base once more."
Bulat helped Tatsumi get back on his feet while Emiya threw a towel at Lubbock's face, the green-haired assassin had been hiding behind a tree so that Najenda wouldn't see him in such a state. "You can't fault them for being a bit on the edge lately. Even us professionals can get overwhelmed from several close encounters with death," said Bulat. "It's honestly a damn miracle we're all still alive."
"What we need is not rest. Everyone is way too antsy, we need some confidence." Najenda emphasized while massaging her temples. "And to achieve that, we need to go back to the way we used to operate in the past by accomplishing simple assassination missions. Whether it be solo jobs or all of us as a group. With our target not being a certain general who could freeze an entire city in one go or an individual who can create an army of surgically mutated monsters who explode after they die. And thankfully, we already got our next mission sent to us by the Revolutionary Army."
She passed them the report, and from just a single glance, Emiya's expression changed — something that Najenda noticed.
"You recognise him?"
He nodded. "More than that, I've met him before. The leader and founder of the Path of Peace movement, only known as the Lord. While I'm not exactly close to him, I do remember that he is in no way a fan of the Empire's current state and has even been expressing sympathies toward the Revolutionary Army. What happened?" From a potential ally to now a target, something just did not add up here.
"There have been strange events going on around those involved with the Path of Peace lately. Our spies have intercepted several letters and bribed a handful of officials to get important information out of them. We discovered that they may or may not be involved in cases of human trafficking and slavery. Captured civilians, both humans and mixed-bloods, are sold off to the Empire as prostitutes, guinea pigs, slave-labor, you name it. And as some of you might have guessed, our suspicions were roused early on after some of our people went through the records of Captain Ogre and Gamal, whom we killed a while ago." Najenda answered calmly, each sentence surprising the former Counter Guardian.
"Has it been confirmed that it is the Lord who is involved behind all of this? I know some of their members tend to be quite fanatical, so they could be easy to control."
"You're saying that he is innocent?"
"No," he denied that claim immediately. "I am merely suggesting the possibility that he is either not alone in this matter, or is naively being used by others to lure people in. Either way, it's still not a good look for him."
"Well count your lucky stars, because the Revolutionary Army also thinks something feels fishy in all of this. Check the last page."
Following her instruction, they soon came to see another face and name being listed as the main target.
"Bolic."
"I take it, you know him too?"
To that, he shook his head. "No. I've heard about him, but never met the guy."
"A woman appeared a while ago, saying that she was raped by a man with a suspiciously similar face, but a different name, and he was also someone she met at the Path of Peace. Tried to drug her but she managed to escape. The team that had been dispatched back then came back with a charred corpse and we thought it was an accomplished mission. But now looking at Bolic's mug, I can't help but wonder."
"That all of this was him faking his death?"
She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "That, and that the Revolutionary Army might have either some incompetent agents who they assigned the job to, or a rat somewhere working for someone else, either Imperial or the Path of Peace. The latter I will deal with myself. As for the mission, we were paid enough to send all of our team if necessary… I'll decide on the team composition tomorrow."
Sending several people to kill a single target would not be unheard of. So he figured she had this handled.
"Don't take any unnecessary risks," he said, earning a scoff from the woman.
"Ha! I should be telling you that."
With that said, she walked off and left behind a tense atmosphere.
"She was right about one thing, we do need to get our team's confidence back. I can cut the tension here with my wires." Lubbock added, a sentiment most agreed with.
.
.
.
(Several hours later)
"Hah, what a long day."
After bringing an exhausted Tatsumi back to his quarters where his two friends promised to take care of him, then proceeding to make dinner for every member of the team plus their two guests and one prisoner — even though the latter looked like she would rather die from starvation than accept anything he gave her —and then doing some light cleanup, Emiya was finally making his way back to his room.
It was no secret to him that he would be part of the team sent after Bolic. Even if Najenda tried to exclude him, he had the final say on his own actions and she could do nothing about it. Most importantly, he just wanted to verify with his own eyes if he could have truly missed such a thing the last time he was that far out west.
Yet as he walked silently through the hallway, He realised someone was standing in front of the door to his room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and expression set deep into contemplation. Having noticed his arrival only once he was close enough for her to get startled.
"Ah! What's with you walking so quietly?" Leone grumbled after calming down from the small jumpscare. "And where have you been? I was searching for you everywhere."
"Just cleaning up the sauna."
"Shit, we have a sauna? Why the hell did no one tell me!?"
He shrugged. "Because it was filled with cobwebs and was being used as a storage space for some reason. I had to clear everything up just to realise what it was. In any case, can I help you with something, or is there some other reason you're standing right in front of my room?"
Leone pointed downwards, where next to her feet was an entire box of wine while holding up two wooden cups he hadn't noticed before in one hand. "It's very likely that I will be chosen to join the team heading west tomorrow. I have some connections to the people in that place who could help us get in without being noticed."
"Makes sense."
"And it's kind of funny. After our last battle with that mad scientist that sent a small army of chimera monsters or whatever at us, I came to a sudden revelation. That tomorrow, there is always a chance that someone important to me may die."
He raised his eyebrow at those words. "A grim way to look at things but you're not wrong, especially for people in our line of work."
"Yeah… I kind of believe that I already knew this from the beginning. I've lost friends in my old job, but funnily enough, that hasn't happened ever since I became an assassin. Kind of ironic, don't you think so?" she asked with a fake smile on her face.
He just nodded and let her continue. "Seeing it is… very different from knowing it or even understanding that part. It's like out of nowhere you feel an enormous amount of guilt and hatred towards yourself, wondering why I hadn't done my best before. Why I was so hesitant on getting to know that person better earlier on, why I was playing the waiting game, how I could have helped them during their time of need and so on."
So she was blaming herself for something which was completely out of her control. "I don't blame you for what happened. You couldn't have known about the explosion before it happened, much less protected me from it. In the end, I survived, didn't I?"
She tapped her nose. "Then what's the point of having this? My senses are far sharper than anything humanly possible when I use my Imperial Arm. I should have noticed something, especially after busting so many of their metal heads into pieces. But I fucking let my battle lust take control for a bit and then I don't notice the small details. And the fuck you mean you survived, saying that so casually? I still have nightmares of the state you were in after taking that explosion! Miracles don't happen twice and… it got me thinking that one day, perhaps even in the near future, I might end up in that position, and unfortunately I don't have your bullshit powers to stitch myself back together with a bunch of magic swords."
"Leone…" He understood where she was coming from, though outside of just promising her that nothing would happen to her as long as he was there, he couldn't say anything else. Emiya understood well enough that he could not be everywhere at the same time. He was no god, nor a miracle worker. It only took a single mistake, and that would be the end of anyone.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh don't look at me like that, I'm not asking you to have pity on me or to guilt trip you into anything. It's up to you at the end of the day and I'll respect your choice regardless of what it may be. I'm just doing this for myself and myself alone, I want to live the present to the fullest and actually mean it. No point in being scared when being regretful hurts way more." She grinned, raising both cups and looking him in the eyes. "That's why I will ask you right now, would you like to spend some time with me tonight? Have a drink and see where things go from there? I can help you improve your calligraphy; I noticed you were pretty sour losing to me early on."
"…"
It was genuinely hard to find words to describe this woman, or to find an appropriate response to such an offer. Yet he could tell she was being fully genuine with her words, not hiding anything and laying everything out on the table without a hint of deception. He never imagined that such an event could have shaken her this much.
So, he chuckled. "I am not salty because someone can write more elegantly than me. I'm more of a brute who knows how to swing swords and fire arrows, not a scholar who spent thousands of years studying books and writing on paper. I'm just having a hard time believing that the person to surpass me so decisively was you of all people."
"Hehehe, life is full of surprises. Live life enough, and you come across all kinds of strange people with weird and amazing talents," she said while he walked past her and opened the door to his room widely and stood to the side before gesturing for her to enter.
"You don't have to tell me out here. Please come in, I welcome you inside my humble abode. But I must insist, don't throw up. I just cleaned the place."
The grin on her face momentarily turned into surprise, most likely not expecting him to agree so easily before it bloomed into a genuine smile.
"No promises."
With that said, she entered the room with a pleased sway to her wide hips. Emiya closed the door behind her, and barely a second later, the sound of the door being locked echoed faintly across the empty hallway.
-----------
The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.