The doors to Chaldea's cafeteria slid open, and the sheer volume of Servants pouring into the space immediately overwhelmed the few staff members present.
EMIYA didn't even blink. He simply walked straight past the dining tables, tied his white apron a little tighter, and stepped into the kitchen. "I'll need four extra skillets, the large roasting oven, and every ounce of flour we have," the Archer commanded the automated systems and the stunned kitchen staff. "Move. We have royalty to feed."
"And make sure there's plenty of meat!" Cú Chulainn called out, already sliding into a booth and kicking his boots up onto the opposite chair.
As the Servants began to settle in, the cafeteria quickly turned into a bizarre, beautiful clash of eras and legends. Marie Antoinette, D'Eon, and Mozart claimed a large circular table, the Queen marveling at the sterile, futuristic architecture while Mozart tapped a rhythmic beat against his water glass. Vlad III chose a quiet corner booth, sitting with immaculate posture as his dark cape draped over the seat. Lancelot, despite the peaceful setting, stood rigidly behind Fujimaru like a towering shadow of dark iron.
"Now then," Fujimaru smiled, standing up at the head of the main table where Mash, Jeanne, and Kiyohime had gathered. "Chaldea's standard rations are fine, but I promised you all a proper celebration. And as I said, a worker makes sure his team is provided for."
With a casual swipe of his hand, Fujimaru tore open the localized rift of his Pocket Dimension.
The Servants watched in awe as the "commoner" Master reached into the void and began pulling out items that defied the very concept of modern culinary limits. He placed heavy, ornate silver platters onto the table. There were perfectly roasted meats that radiated a mouth-watering, magical warmth; crystal bowls filled with glowing, jewel-like fruits from the World Tree; and multi-tiered, immaculately decorated cakes that looked like they belonged in a fairy tale.
Finally, he pulled out several bottles of deep, rich wine that seemed to swirl with liquid starlight, and a delicate porcelain tea set for those who preferred it.
"Elixir of World Tree," Fujimaru explained, placing the last bottle on the table and closing the rift. "They grant minor buffs to health and mana recovery, but more importantly, they taste incredible. Eat as much as you want. It's on me."
"Oh, my goodness!" Marie squealed, her eyes practically turning into stars as she looked at the towering cakes. "This is magnificent! Even the Palace of Versailles never had pastries that glowed like this! D'Eon, Amadeus, we simply must try everything!"
"If it pleases the Queen," D'Eon smiled, already preparing a plate for her.
Vlad III accepted a glass of the starlight wine from Mash. The Lord of Wallachia took a slow, deliberate sip, his golden eyes widening fractionally. He lowered the glass, looking at his Master with profound respect. "A vintage that humbles even the finest cellars of Europe. You possess a treasury that rivals emperors, Master Fujimaru. I shall savor this."
"Only the best for my beloved Anchin!" Kiyohime declared proudly. She had completely ignored her own food and was currently holding a silver spoon full of glowing fruit pudding near Fujimaru's face. "Here, say 'ahh'! Let your devoted wife feed you to restore your strength!"
"I can feed myself, Kiyohime, really," Fujimaru chuckled nervously, leaning back slightly as the dragon-girl leaned in with intense, unblinking dedication.
"Nonsense! A wife must provide for her hard-working husband!"
"Please do not harass the Master while he is trying to recover," Jeanne intervened smoothly. The Holy Maiden sat across from them, sipping a cup of the premium tea with a serene, angelic smile. "Though I must admit, this tea is remarkably soothing. It feels as though the weariness in my Spirit Origin is washing away."
"That's the [Elixir of the World Tree] blend," Fujimaru explained, finally accepting a bite of pudding just to pacify Kiyohime, who beamed triumphantly. "It's designed to clear status debuffs and restore stamina. Drink up, Jeanne."
Mash sat beside him, a plate of perfectly roasted meat in front of her. She looked around the noisy, vibrant cafeteria. Medusa was quietly eating nearby, her blindfold making the process look like a magic trick. Lancelot was staring at a glowing fruit as if trying to decipher if it could be weaponized, before finally crushing it into his helmet. The kitchen doors swung open as EMIYA walked out, carrying massive platters of Chaldea-made food to supplement the feast, immediately swatting Cú Chulainn's hand away when the Lancer tried to steal a sausage early.
It was chaotic. It was loud. It was a family.
"Senpai," Mash said softly, her lavender eyes warm and entirely at peace. "This is... wonderful. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, Mash," Fujimaru smiled, picking up his own cup of tea. He clinked his cup gently against her glass. "We all earned this. Every single one of us."
Just as the celebration reached its peak, the cafeteria doors slid open again. Dr. Roman walked in, holding a datapad. He looked at the glowing food, the legendary kings and saints, and the sheer volume of noise, pausing for a moment to process the absurdity of his job.
He let out a fond, tired sigh and walked over to Fujimaru's table.
"I hate to interrupt the victory feast, I really do," Roman smiled apologetically, tapping his datapad. "And I'm definitely going to ask for a slice of that glowing cake later. But Trismegistus just finished analyzing the next fluctuation."
The chatter at the table slowly died down. Vlad III set his wine glass down. Jeanne straightened her posture. Marie wiped a bit of frosting from her cheek, her playful demeanor shifting to royal attentiveness.
"We've located the Second Singularity," Roman announced, his expression turning serious. "The time is the 1st Century AD. The location..."
He looked directly at Fujimaru, the Master who had just built an army from scratch.
"...The Roman Empire."
Fujimaru took one last sip of his tea. He set the delicate porcelain cup down onto the saucer with a soft, definitive clink. The wealthy, practical worker looked at his assembled team of legends, his blue eyes sharp and ready.
The weight of the Roman Empire Singularity hung in the air for exactly three seconds before Kiyohime shattered the tension completely.
"An entire empire?!" Kiyohime gasped, her golden eyes sparkling with an intense, fiery devotion as she immediately slid closer to Fujimaru. "Oh, my poor, hard-working Anchin! To be tasked with toppling an entire civilization so soon! You must be terribly stressed!"
Before Fujimaru could assure her he was fine, the dragon-girl had already pressed herself against his arm, her delicate hands reaching up to aggressively massage his shoulders.
"Do not worry, my beloved!" Kiyohime declared loudly, completely ignoring the amused stares of the other Servants. "If this Rome stands in the way of our honeymoon, I shall simply burn it to the ground! But for now, you must relax! Here, lean your head on my lap! Let your devoted wife soothe your weary soul before we deploy!"
Fujimaru stiffened slightly, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek as the scent of cherry blossoms and terrifyingly close embers filled his senses. "Kiyohime, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but the chairs here are fine—"
"Excuse me."
A polite, yet incredibly sharp voice cut through the air.
Mash Kyrielight stood up. Her expression was perfectly neutral, but her lavender eyes were practically glowing with an intense, uncharacteristic territorial glare. She marched around the table and came to a halt directly beside Kiyohime.
"Kiyohime-san," Mash said, her voice strained with a forced, overly polite customer-service tone. "While your... dedication to the mission is noted, Senpai's physical condition is currently under the direct jurisdiction of Chaldea's medical wing. As his designated Kouhai and primary Demi-Servant, it is my duty to monitor his vitals. Unnecessary physical contact could skew the data."
Kiyohime stopped massaging Fujimaru's shoulders. She blinked, looking up at the lilac-haired girl. The Berserker slowly raised her red folding fan to cover her mouth, letting out a soft, dangerous giggle.
"Oh, my. How diligent of you, little shield-girl," Kiyohime purred, her grip on Fujimaru's arm tightening just a fraction. "But data is so cold, don't you think? A wife's touch is a far more effective remedy for exhaustion than any machine. Surely you understand that a married couple requires their private moments?"
Mash's face flushed a brilliant shade of crimson, but she firmly crossed her arms.
"S-Senpai is not married!" Mash countered, her voice pitching up in a mix of flustered panic and fierce jealousy. "And even if he were, workplace relationships during a Grand Order are highly irregular! Furthermore, I have been by Senpai's side since Fuyuki! I-I am his shield! You can't just arrive and claim a monopoly on his downtime!"
"Time is irrelevant to true love!" Kiyohime leaned in closer to Fujimaru, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Isn't that right, Anchin? Tell this sweet, misguided girl that our bond transcends the need for medical monitors!"
Mash immediately grabbed Fujimaru's other arm, pulling him slightly in the opposite direction. "Senpai, please inform her that Chaldea protocol dictates a minimum of six inches of personal space during meal times!"
"I-I don't think that's a real protocol, Mash..." Dr. Roman muttered weakly from the sidelines, looking entirely entirely out of his depth.
Fujimaru sat perfectly still, currently trapped in a tug-of-war between a fiercely jealous, heavily armored Demi-Servant and a dragon-girl who could turn the cafeteria into a crater if she got too upset.
Across the table, Cú Chulainn was snickering into his coffee mug. Marie Antoinette was watching with a delighted, romantic sigh, while Vlad III looked on with a raised, judgmental eyebrow.
"Alright. Let's clock out of the drama, ladies," Fujimaru finally sighed.
He didn't panic, nor did he awkwardly stumble over his words. The practical, wealthy worker simply placed one hand gently on Mash's wrist, and the other on Kiyohime's hand, halting their tug-of-war.
"Kiyohime," Fujimaru said smoothly, looking the Berserker in the eye. "I appreciate the massage. Truly. You've got a great grip, and it actually helped with the tension. But Roman is right, we have a mission briefing. I need my head clear, not resting. Save the pampering for after we conquer Rome, deal?"
Kiyohime's eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across her face at the direct, honest praise and the promise of future rewards. "A-After Rome? Oh... Oh, Anchin! You promise?! Very well! I shall hold you to that!" She happily uncoiled herself from his arm, fanning her flushed face furiously.
Fujimaru then turned to Mash, whose cheeks were still puffed out in a jealous pout. He offered her a warm, grounding smile.
"And Mash," Fujimaru said gently, his voice softening. "You don't need to quote fake protocols to get my attention. You're my shield, my Kouhai, and the first person I trust when things go bad. Fuyuki, Orleans, and now Rome. I'm not going anywhere without you."
Mash's breath hitched. The fierce jealousy instantly melted, replaced by a radiant, relieved smile. The blush on her cheeks remained, but for an entirely different reason. "Y-Yes, Senpai! I'll always be your shield!"
"Good," Fujimaru nodded, standing up and straightening his jacket. He looked around the table at his assembled, chaotic, and legendary team. "Now, if everyone is finished with their premium desserts, let's head to the command room."
The procession from the cafeteria to the Command Room was arguably the most heavily armed corporate march in human history.
With Fujimaru leading the way, the newly expanded roster of Chaldea's vanguard filed into the central hub. The heavy blast doors hissed open to reveal the glowing blue displays of Trismegistus, the massive globe of CHALDEAS hovering in the center, and the welcoming committee.
Director Olga Marie Animusphere stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. Leonardo da Vinci was at the main console, practically vibrating with excitement as she reviewed the new Saint Graph data, while Dr. Roman hurried to his station.
"You took your time, Candidate Forty-Eight," Olga Marie huffed, though her golden eyes swept over the legendary figures standing behind the boy with undeniable awe. "Though... considering you successfully contracted seven high-tier Heroic Spirits without blowing up the power grid, I will overlook the unscheduled feast. Da Vinci, Roman, bring up the briefing."
"Right away, Director!" Da Vinci tapped a few keys, and the central holographic projector flared to life.
The image of a rusted, burning France was replaced by a map of the Mediterranean. The projection zoomed in on the Italian Peninsula, specifically highlighting a sprawling, ancient city of white marble and red roofs.
"The Second Singularity," Roman began, his tone turning clinical and serious. "The coordinates are fixed at the year 60 AD. The location is the heart of the Roman Empire, during the reign of the fifth Emperor, Nero Claudius."
"Rome," Vlad III murmured, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the map. As a ruler who had historically clashed with empires, the name alone carried a heavy weight. "A civilization built on blood, iron, and endless conquest. What threatens it?"
"A hostile takeover, basically," Da Vinci answered, pulling up a secondary display showing massive magical anomalies scattered across the continent. "According to our localized scans, the Roman Empire isn't being invaded by an outside force. It's being torn apart from the inside. We are detecting multiple massive energy signatures that match the profiles of past Roman Emperors. It seems someone has resurrected them to wage a united civil war against the current seated Emperor."
Fujimaru crossed his arms, analyzing the map with a pragmatic eye. "So, the foundation of the era is being overwritten by ghosts refusing to give up their shares. If the Empire falls before its historical expiration date, human history collapses."
"Exactly," Olga Marie nodded, stepping forward. "Your objective is to Rayshift into the era, locate the anomaly causing the resurrection of these past emperors, and eliminate it. However, we have a logistical constraint."
She gestured toward the massive Coffin pods lining the walls.
"While your personal mana capacity and your... unique inventory... seem to handle the upkeep of these Servants locally, the Rayshift system has absolute limits. Trismegistus cannot safely calculate the quantum probability of transferring this many high-density Saint Graphs across time simultaneously. You have to build a shift roster, Fujimaru. Five Servants to accompany you and Mash. The rest will remain on standby here in Chaldea as a reserve force."
Fujimaru nodded. He didn't complain about the restriction; as a practical worker, he understood hardware limitations perfectly. He turned to face his gathered team.
"Alright, listen up," Fujimaru said, his eyes sweeping over the legends. "This isn't a simple monster hunt in the woods. We're dropping into a massive civil war involving organized militaries, imperial tactics, and politics. I need crowd control, defense, and people who can break an army's line."
He pointed to the Lord of Wallachia. "Vlad. You've fought off empires. I need your tactical experience and your authority on the field. You're our frontline commander."
Vlad III offered a sharp, aristocratic bow, slamming the butt of his black lance into the floor. "You shall have the full weight of Wallachia at your disposal, Master. I will show these Roman ghosts what true terror is."
Fujimaru turned to his left. "Kiyohime. I need heavy Area-of-Effect damage to clear out large infantry formations. Can you handle it without burning the innocent civilians?"
"Oh, Anchin!" Kiyohime beamed, stepping forward and eagerly linking her arm with his. "I am a wife who listens to her husband perfectly! I shall only incinerate the bad apples! You can count on me!"
"Good," Fujimaru nodded gently, subtly slipping his arm free before Mash could initiate another turf war.
He looked toward the elegant spy of France. "D'Eon. You're our vanguard and our diplomat. A civil war means factions. If things get complicated politically, or if we need someone to draw enemy fire, I'm relying on your skills."
Chevalier d'Eon drew their rapier, offering a flawless, graceful salute. "A wise choice, Master. I shall beguile the enemy and ensure no blade reaches you or my allies."
Fujimaru then turned to the blonde Ruler. "Jeanne. We're walking into a chaotic warzone. I need an absolute defense to anchor the team. Luminosité Eternelle is our safety net."
Jeanne's violet eyes widened slightly before she smiled, a radiant expression of pure resolve. "I understand. I will protect this shift with everything I have, Master."
Finally, Fujimaru looked at the towering, fog-shrouded giant standing quietly in the back. "Lancelot."
The Black Knight stepped forward, the heavy plates of his armor clanking against the floor.
"Rome is an empire built on endless weapons, formations, and siege engines," Fujimaru said, looking directly at the red slit of the Berserker's helmet. "I need a heavy shock trooper who can drop into the middle of an enemy camp and turn their own armory against them. You're our heavy breach."
"Arrrr..." Lancelot rumbled deeply, dropping to one knee to signal his absolute, terrifying readiness.
Fujimaru nodded in satisfaction, turning his attention to the remaining Servants. "The rest of you are on base defense and standby. EMIYA, Cú, Medusa—you three are the guard. Make sure nothing breaches Chaldea while we're out. Marie, Mozart—rest up and stay ready. If things go completely sideways in Rome, I'm calling you in as reinforcements."
"Leave it to us, Boss!" Cú Chulainn grinned, leaning against the wall while tossing a toothpick into a nearby trash can. "Have fun in the colosseum."
"Do take care, my brave knights!" Marie waved gracefully. "And bring us back a souvenir! I hear Roman bathhouses are simply divine!"
"Senpai," Mash stepped up to the control console, fully clad in her Demi-Servant armor, her massive cross-shield resting at her side. "The designated team is prepped. Coffin synchronization is standing by."
Fujimaru walked over to his assigned Coffin. He patted his pockets, ensuring his spatial inventory access was secure, and stepped into the pod.
"Lock it in, Doc," Fujimaru said, the heavy glass door beginning to slide shut. "Let's clock in."
"Rayshift sequence initiated," Dr. Roman's voice echoed through the command room, accompanied by the mechanical whirring of the F.A.T.E. system charging up. "Target coordinates set: 60 AD, the Roman Empire. Anti-Spiritron conversion starting."
The blinding golden light of Chaldea's spatial transference magic flooded the Coffins, wrapping around Fujimaru, Mash, Vlad III, Kiyohime, Chevalier d'Eon, Jeanne, and Lancelot.
"Unsummon program starting. Please have a safe trip, Team Chaldea!"
With a final, deafening hum, the golden light flashed, and the Master of Chaldea vanished from the future, taking his newly assembled elite vanguard straight into the heart of ancient history's greatest empire.
Far beyond the boundaries of the human order, existing in a place completely outside the flow of time itself, lay a silent, starry void.
At the center of this endless dark sat a supreme, pristine white throne. It was a monument of absolute authority, entirely empty, yet radiating an oppressive, suffocating power.
Surrounding the supreme throne were massive, towering pillars of writhing flesh. They were grotesque monuments of twisted muscle and golden armor, completely covered in countless, unblinking crimson eyes. These were the Demon God Pillars, acting as a collective hive-mind—an Information Center—to oversee the absolute incineration of human history.
Usually, this void was filled with the synchronized, harmonious hum of their unified will. But today, the harmony was broken by a profound, calculating dissonance.
"Sub-Beast VI/S materialized within the Orleans Singularity. Even though fellow Beasts are forbidden from interfering with one another," the Demon God assigned to oversee Orleans reported, its massive, multi-layered voice echoing through the void.
A violent tremor rippled through the surrounding pillars. The countless eyes on the fleshy towers blinked rapidly, attempting to process the anomaly.
"Was it truly fragment Beast VI/S?I?"
"The energy signature is contradictory. It possessed zero Od. Zero Mystery. Yet it forcefully rejected the Foundation of Human History, mimicking the Authority of a Beast."
"The anomaly itself is not a true Beast. The source is the human. Candidate Forty-Eight. Fujimaru Ritsuka," the Demon God of Orleans clarified, its deep voice cutting through the collective murmurs.
In the center of the void, a massive holographic projection flared to life for the Information Center to witness. It did not just show the shattered hourglass; it showed the exact moment the human had completely overwritten the Singularity's climate.
The playback displayed the teenage Master standing calmly amidst the apocalyptic permafrost. Then, a massive, hyper-complex geometric array—a magic circle completely alien to the Mage's Association or the Age of Gods—expanded rapidly beneath his feet, radiating an overwhelming, prismatic light.
The audio from the recording echoed through the starry void, capturing the human's calm, pragmatic voice:
"Super Tier Magic: Creation."
The visual feed showed the immediate, terrifying aftermath. In a single instant, the corrupted, frozen wasteland of Orleans was violently rewritten. The permafrost melted, the rusted skies shattered, and the natural texture of the world was forcefully restored.
The writhing flesh of the massive pillars churned with collective unease. The Information Center's processing speed spiked to its maximum capacity.
"Analysis of the phenomenon: Complete structural overwrite of a localized geographic texture."
"It is not Magecraft. It is not a Divine Authority. It completely bypasses the Root."
"To rewrite the World's texture without equivalent exchange... it is a miracle that treats the laws of physics as mere suggestions. An administrative override."
Another Pillar, towering high in the dark, leaned forward. Its crimson eyes locked onto the projected image of the wealthy, practical worker from another world.
"He wields this 'Super Tier Magic' with the casual demeanor of a laborer using a tool. He tamed the Mad Knight without a tether, and the Lord of Execution bowed to his pragmatism."
"He is a variable. A profound, incalculable threat to our grand design."
To the Demon Gods, his actions in Orleans were a localized rejection of the universe's rules—a blatant violation of the cosmic order that registered to their sensors as a Beast-class threat.
Suddenly, a supreme, overwhelming resonance washed outward from the empty white throne itself.
The towering pillars instantly froze, their countless eyes wide and perfectly still in absolute reverence.
"The incineration of humanity is absolute. It is the ultimate salvation," the collective consciousness of the high-ranking pillars decreed, their voices blending into one terrifying harmony. "The anomaly known as Fujimaru Ritsuka must not be allowed to persist. His unknown 'Super Tier' Authority may mimic a Beast, but it is finite. Our pillars are infinite."
The projection of the French Singularity shifted, morphing into a sprawling map of the Mediterranean Sea, centering on a magnificent ancient city of white marble.
"The Second Singularity has already been planted. The Roman Empire shall tear itself apart from within. We shall observe this Master closely. If he attempts to utilize that Beast-like Authority or cast 'Creation' again... we shall crush him under the full, undivided weight of our gaze."
The vision of Chaldea's Master faded into the dark. The Demon God Pillars resumed their synchronized, rhythmic humming, the terrifying gears of their grand design turning once more.