How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)

[Charles Flynn]

The villagers make it halfway before the Wyverns (and dragon) reach them.

Fortunately, Rider, Berserker, and Ruler are all quite adept at holding the line. Georgios' Interfectum Dracones cutting a swathe through the dragons as he channels it through Ascalon. Already, I'm feeling the pinch from my circuits. There's something particularly disturbing about the feeling of your nerves starting to overheat, as I'm swiftly discovering.

Tamamo, for her part, is much less singularly deadly, but considering that she isn't THE dragonslayer, that's hardly surprising. Still, she's holding her own, her immense strength coming in handy. I watch dispassionately as she begins to beat a wyvern to death with another wyvern.

'Caster, is the bounded field up?'

"Yep!" she calls back. She seems happy that she doesn't have to fight directly in this one. I suppose I can hardly begrudge a pacifist for not wanting to fight.

'Good. Lancer, Assassin, are your defenses ready?'

'My spears thirst for the blood of the unclean!' I'll take that as a yes.

'I, too, am ready.'

Right. I turn back to watch the fleeing townsfolk. They've already made it another quarter of the way to our bounded field, although their numbers are still dropping as, every once in a while, in spite of Georgios, Tamamo, and Jeanne's best efforts, a wyvern get lucky.

Up above, the dragon still hasn't joined the fight, circling like a great vulture. She's up there. The Dragon Witch. It's mostly a gut feeling, but it makes sense. The elite flying unit makes for an excellent mobile command center. You can see the entire battle, and your command center is also a flying, firebreathing incarnation of pure destruction. The dragon's behavior bears my theory out as well. Normally, it would have joined right in, ravaging the land to its little lizard heart's content. But it's remaining airborne, and not engaging.

Jeanne was an exceptional tactician. Most likely, the Dragon Witch won't engage us in direct combat. Just toss her minions at us.

The villagers are almost here. The three Servants guarding them are managing an excellent fighting retreat. Now. Dragon Witch. What's your counterblow?

They wyverns throw themselves at the Bounded Field, bouncing off of it and then being promptly slaughtered by Vlad and Kojirou, as the river of new refugees starts to flee into Xuanzang's sanctuary.

First quarter, half, three-quarters, all surviving villagers safe. Good. They keep their distance from Xuanzang and I, huddling together. Their clothes are stained with ash and blood and sweat, and their eyes are wide. I can hear them start whenever a wyvern slams against the barrier. They won't ever be the same after this. But they'll live.

In the skies, the dragon begins to descend. It lands about two hundred yards away from the Bound Field's edge, and stepping off of it-

Well, color scheme aside, she's a dead ringer for Jeanne.

'Cursed Arm. Strategy Two.'

'Yes, Master.'

I turn my attention back to the other Jeanne, checking her stats.

'Xuanzang. Can you use a curse to disrupt and lower her mana stat?'

'Yes. Why, though? If she's hooked up to this era's grail, then-'

'It only needs to last for a minute at most.'

'Alright then.'

Hm. She has six Servants with her. I could match those numbers, but victory would be far from assured.

Nonetheless, I can work with this.

"Well now, what's this?" she swaggers up closer to the barrier, her mouth upturned in an irritatingly self-assured smirk. "Someone dares to interfere with my rightful vengeance?"

All the Servants save Xuanzang and Cursed Arm have stood themselves between her and the barrier. She pays them no heed, further reinforcing my impression that she's an idiot. How the hell did she get this far? Oh, right, army of dragons. I suppose that air and troop superiority, along with six servants, really do tend to weigh out any and all tactical blunders when your opponents are regular humans.

"Not you, not you, not you, not you, and most certainly not you," She dismisses Jeanne last with an ugly sneer. "What fool even made such a cheap knockoff? No, no, no, who's the one behind this?" Her eyes settle on me. "You."

"I have been so called, yes." I reply mildly. ' Xuanzang, start the curse while I keep her distracted.'

"You're a Master, aren't you? What, do you plan to save the world? They'll burn you, you know, once you're done saving them. Ungrateful little bastards, humans are. And that's if I don't burn you first!" She breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggling, apparently amused to no end by her own wit.

"And your proposed alternative is...."

"They betrayed me! My country, my king, my God! So I'll burn them. I'll burn them all. And they'll know their sins as they beg for mercy. And I'll give them none!" she seems quite enthused at the prospect.

"How can you do this?" Jeanne breaks in, horror clear on her face. "Our country! Our people! Everything we gave our lives to defend, and you're tearing it down!"

"They didn't save me! SO I'LL SHOW THEM MY PAIN!"

"Including your family?" I ask mildly. 'Xuanzang, how's that curse coming along?'

"What?" Evil Jeanne looks like someone just punched her in the gut, while Good Jeanne's face is paling.

"Your family. They're still alive, mourning their daughter, the hero. Supposedly your father actually died of grief two months after your execution." Evil Jeanne looks confused, while Good Jeanne is looking utterly devastated. "You plan on burning everyone in France, yes? That includes them."

'Curse has taken effect, Master.'

"How could you?" Good Jeanne is looking at her twin with naked loathing in her eyes. "Our mother! Our father! Our brothers and sisters!" She's actually crying, now. "How can you threaten our family and call yourself me?"

"I-" Evil Jeanne's lost her footing. "They never bothered to save me! Just coasted off of their saintly daughter, who-"

"Actually, your mother, Isabelle, was the one who got your heresy conviction overturned. She lived every day of her life proud of what her daughter had done." Good Jeanne is crying at this point. "And you planned on killing her." 'Cursed Arm. Now.'

"I- You're making that up! I don't remember-"

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya."

She doesn't even have time to react before Cursed Arm crushes her heart. She simply stares in shock, caught dead in mid-sentence. And then she falls flat on her face and dissolves.

For a moment, all is silence. And then her Caster servant breaks that silence with a heartbroken scream of rage.

And with their summoner dead, her Servants vanish. All except...

"Gilles?" Good Jeanne (now Only Jeanne) mouths in shock. "But... Why didn't you-"

"MY WISH! MY DREAM!" he's frothing at the mouth with rage. "YOU KILLED IT! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED MY JEANNE!" He begins to chant. Something low, and guttural, in a language unknown to human ears. Deep in my heart, a primordial dread rises, as the shadows seem to deepen, and the angles broaden-

"KEZLIKI BEY!"

-and three stakes impale him straight through his chest, leaving him choking on his own blood mid-spell. I turn to look at Vlad.

"What? He was creeping me out."

"Fair enough. Good work, Lancer."

Real Jeanne has moved over to stand by the dying Gilles, tears brimming in her eyes. "Why, Gilles? Why?"

"They betrayed you. Just... went on with their lives. The world without you, it was..." he's struggling to speak. I'm actually surprised he can talk at all with those stakes through his lungs. "I couldn't stand it. I just wanted... to make them pay for it. Make them pay for it all."

"By creating an evil copy of the person you were avenging, who would then proceed to destroy everything she dedicated her life to saving, including her own family?" I point out. Jeanne glares at me. "I'll be quiet."

"I'm glad." Gilles smiles. "I got to see you again." And with that, he dissolves, leaving Jeanne alone, still crying.

"Right. Somebody grab the Grail!" Tamamo holds it up. "Thank you, Tamamo."

"I-" Jeanne turns to me. "The Lord was right. You do work fast."

"Please. I had excellent assistance." I smile. "It was an honor to work with you, Saint Jeanne."

"Oh, please, I'm hardly a Saint."

"You are, actually. You were canonized in 1920." I smile. The world is breaking down around us, and Jeanne herself is starting to dissolve. "Beam us up, Roman."

As the light takes us away, I imagine that I saw the Saint smile.

 

[Charles Flynn]

With the Second Singularity resolved, life at Chaldea returns to normality. Or as close to normality as an observatory staffed partially by undead heroes could get.

And, in between summoning new Servants, polishing up my Latin, and reviewing my knowledge of Roman history, and history at large, I take the effort to actually get to know my Servants.

---​

"So. Cooking." I look at Tamamo Cat. "Aren't you, you know, a wild animal?"

"Not anymore, though!" Tamamo Cat chirps back. "Now I'm one hundred percent domesticated, thanks to you!"

Not touching that with a ten foot pole. I turn back to the books. "Well, would you like to hear some of the stories I know about Rome?"

She nods, and I decide to start with the tale of Publius Claudius Pulcher and the sacred chickens.

---​

"So. Next Singularity is in Rome." I look over my templed hands at Vlad. "Roman- Dr. Roman, that is, has narrowed it down to the first century AD, during the early persecution of the Christians. Can I count on you to not kill anyone important unless I tell you to?"

"But I will get to kill a Roman or two, yes?" He looks at me like a puppy begging for a bone, and I can't find it in my heart to deny him.

"Sure, buddy. I'm sure we'll run into a historically unimportant Roman or two that's just begging for a staking."

---​

And so it went. Georgios picked up an interest in photography, Cursed Arm's been helping Hundred Face with running Chaldea, although I persuaded him to serve as security for my Summonings, and Xuanzang's been operating the chapel, alongside Georgios. The summonings, however, brought a great influx of new faces to Chaldea.

---​

"Servant Saber. True Name, Gilles de Rais."

"Neat. Just remember that Chaldea has a strict policy against raping and/or murdering children and we'll get along just fine."

---​

"Servant Lancer. True Name Cu Chulainn. Pleasure to meetcha, Master!"

I blink. Yep. He's got the spear, and he's got the face. Right.

"Marjani, page Da Vinci over the intercom. Lancer, bar's full, feel free to pester the barkeep. You are now officially his problem."

Lancer seems slightly annoyed at my brusque dismissal of him, but perks up at the prospect of alcohol. Once he's gone, I turn to the intercom.

"Right, Da Vinci, we have a bit of an irregularity...

---​

"Servant Caster. True Name Medea. Mind your place and we'll do fine."

"I'll keep that in mind. We'll assign you your room shortly."

Viable to go along with my more extreme measures, but all in all, far too unstable for regular use. I had actually considered having Cursed Arm kill her when she appeared, but decided against it. She might be good for spellcraft. But if she becomes a liability, she'll be disposed of. I instruct Hundred Face to assign a body to shadow her, and then move on.

---​

"Servant Berserker, Spartacus! If you become an oppresor, I'll kill you!"

Weak, but potentially useful as cannon fodder. "Understood, great rebel."

---
​

"Servant Caster, True Name Mozart, let us conduct a grand symphony together!"

Weak, unusable in the field, but might be a morale booster. Let's see if we can salvage a lounge together.

"An honor to meet you."
​

---
​

"Servant... Berserker. True Name... Asterios."

"Welcome." Might be useful for grunt work. No way in hell I'm trusting my back to the freaking Minotaur, though.
​

---​

"Servant Berserker, the dazzling lovestruck maiden Kiyohime! I'm so happy to see you again, Anchin-sama!"

Huh. First time I recognize a legendary Japanese figure immediately after summoning them. Also, hell the fuck no.

"Servant Assassin, by the power of my Command Seal, TAKE HER HEART!"

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya."

She doesn't have time to react before she keels over stone dead.

"What the Hell, Flynn?" and ooh, Marjani's pissed.

"Her entire legend centers around her tendency towards psychotic obsession that tends to culminate in her killing the object of her affections, and she was calling me by the name of her last murder victim. That was justifiable self-defence!"
​

---​

"Servant Lancer. True Name Cu Chulainn. Try to keep the orders reasonable, all right?"

"Oh, what the actual fuck."

 

[Charles Flynn]

I slump over the bar, cradling my drink with one hand.

"Cu, am I a bad person?"

The three separate versions of Cu Chulainn, whom I had mentally nicknamed "the Chul Kids," ran through a quick exchange via facial expression. Finally, Caster was selected as the group's spokesman.

"A little." Caster finally says. "You do bad things, but for a good cause. Like with that kid you kneecapped when we were raiding Dover. You do it because you have to, not because you enjoy it."

"But I do enjoy it." I sigh, and take another swig of my drink. "That's the thing, Cu. I enjoy it. I realized that today. I enjoy it."

Cu levels a neutral look at me for a moment or two before pouring himself a glass. "And what morally questionable act brought this on, if I may ask?"

"I had a woman killed today. Not a minute after I summoned her." I take another sip. "I don't regret it, she needed to die, far too unstable to work with. But at the same time, I enjoyed it. I relished the look of absolute betrayal and despair on her face as she died. I just... it's wrong, I know it's wrong, but I enjoy it. And... part of me wonders if the extremes I'm going to are something that I do because I want to, not because I have to. Like if I was a better man, I'd have found a better way."

Cu looks at me for a moment before polishing off his glass. He moves to refill it, but seems to think the better of it, and brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips and chugs the whole thing down. Thus fortified, he offers his advice, ignoring the protests of his two alternates. "I'm not sure that enjoying it makes you a bad person."

"How so?"

"I enjoyed it. The killing, I mean." He looks me in the eye. "I loved fighting more, but there was still something... viscerally satisfying about looking into an enemy's eyes as the light left them." The other two nod in agreement. "But killing those people was necessary. To defend Ulster, and to prove my honor. I don't regret most of the people I've killed. And make no mistake, Master. I killed hundreds. But because I killed hundreds, my homeland was saved. And I don't think I could have done that if I didn't enjoy fighting. If I didn't enjoy killing. Enjoying the dirty necessities doesn't precisely make you a bad person. It makes you someone who can do what needs to be done and come out sane. So no. I don't think you're all that bad a guy."

"Thanks, Cu."

"Anytime."

"Can I get a refill?"

"Nope. Just drank the last booze."

"You dick!"

 

[Charles Flynn]

"And so, the Third Singularity is only a few days from being located." Roman concludes. It's been two weeks since we resolved the Orleans Singularity, and morale's been running high. So, honestly, the weekly meeting of us section heads has been running smoothly. It's also a tad boring, and I'm having to make a conscious effort to not fidget with the sleeves of my uniform. My ADHD meds running out has not been helpful in the slightest. But, well, I manage. Honestly, it turns out that the knowledge that every other human being on the planet is dead, including my own family, is an excellent aid for maintaining focus. Who knew?

"That concludes our current progress on the war against Incineration." Roman announces. "Now, onto our supplies. How are they looking?"

Da Vinci takes over. "Food-wise, we're fine. Especially since Touta started helping out in the kitchens."

"I'm sorry, who?"

."Tawara Touta. Archer-class servant. You summoned him few weeks ago?" she offers, looking at me with some slight disappointment.

"Right. Him. Sorry, I'm starting to have trouble keeping track of them." I sigh. "Also, I've summoned a few Servants that might be potential security risks. I can put them down if they start endangering themselves or others, but I'll forward you a list so you can keep an eye on them."

"That's... remarkably cold of you." Roman offers. All of the staff are looking at me a bit warily.

I suppose that announcing that I'm prepared to summarily execute several people does sound a bit worrying.

"This mission is, quite literally, the most important endeavor in human history," I point out. "Mostly because, if it fails, there will be no more human history. Every remaining staff member is essential, and there are only twenty-five of us left. A slow response time in the event of a Servant going rogue could whittle that number down by half. I have no intention of endangering humanity's survival in order to be more accommodating to some of the most vicious psychopaths and murderers in human history, which, just to be clear, are the ones on this list. I know this seems paranoid. But these people are the ones I consider most likely to be a problem, so I'm keeping an eye on them."

Nods all around the table. They're uncomfortable about this, but they acknowledge it as necessary. I suppose that's the best I'll get.

"So. I believe we were discussing supplies?"

"Yes." Da Vinci looks a bit disquieted, but pulls herself together and carries on as normal. "Food's holding up well. However, a few food supplies, such as the alcohol, are already out again."

"I knew we shouldn't have given Cu Chulainn unrestricted access to the bar." Roman mutters.

"To be fair," I interject. "Our supplies of alcohol were restocked with his consumption rate in mind. We just didn't anticipate there suddenly being three of him."

"Beyond matters of sustenance, the repair crews need more metal. We also need a forge, or some sort of smelter. We've had to improvise with magecraft, but frankly, it's a bit of a waste of resources to use magecraft where perfectly mundane supplies would suffice. Beyond that, there's also our need for magical reagents. Further on the matter of supplies, we still need more clothing. The cloth we looted from Dover is rough, but useable, but it won't last long. It's not an immediate concern, but if we could get a half-decent supply of clothes and set up one of Hundred Face's bodies as a tailor, we can prevent a minor concern from growing into an eventual major problem."

"Reasonable enough." I look around the table. "Looks like we'll have to launch another raid. Low-priority at the moment, though. Actually, we might be able to just pick up the necessary supplies from the Rome Singularity. That work for you, Roman?"

He nods. "Fine by me."

"On the subject of the Rome Singularity, will Shielder be able to deploy with me?" I rather miss having her around, even if I only had a short time to get used to it.

"Well, yes," Roman's rubbing the back of his head. Bad news, then. "But there's a problem."

"She's not still dying, right?"

"No," Da Vinci interjects. "We managed to prevent her personality from being overwritten by reinforcing the conceptual distinction between Mash and Galahad as two separate existences. Unfortunately, this means that Mash has transformed from a girl capable of drawing on the power and Saint Graph of the Heroic Spirit Galahad to a girl capable of transforming into the Heroic Spirit Galahad."

"So, she's still around, but when she uses her Servant abilities, Galahad takes the driver's seat." I repeat, mostly to make sure I parsed out Da Vinci's magibabble correctly. "Has he refused to work with me?"

"He has expressed a willingness to tolerate you, and take your orders so long as they remain reasonable and moral." Roman offers. "Admittedly, he also comes with the benefit of Mash serving as his power source, so he can be brought along without exceeding the six-Servant limit."

"If he can put up with me, I can put up with him." I look around. "That everything?"

"Yeah."

"Right. I'm off then. I figure I should probably get to know this Touta guy. Make up for my previous ignorance of his existence."

And like that, I'm off.

 

[Charles Flynn]

The Rayshift room is lively, and I can't stop grinning. Mash is here. We haven't really talked yet, but I'm glad to see her up and on her feet. Galahad will be joining us in the Singularity, so she's enjoying what could be the last time she'll be in control of her body for a while. Below me, my team, consisting of Sasaki Kojirou, Cursed Arm, Xuanzang, Georgios, Vlad, and Tamamo are all assembled and ready for a proper fight. Roman's at the console with Da Vinci at his side, ready for the Rayshift. But that's not why I'm happy.

Finally, finally, we're going into a Singularity I won't need a translator for! At long last, the years I spent on a language deader than disco have finally paid off! Who's laughing at my choice of electives now, Sis? Spoilers: IT'S MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! HAHAHAHAHA! When I finish saving the world and un-burnifying you, I am totally rubbing this in your face! '

I can't wait! We've agreed that we can Rayshift materials out of this Singularity, so I'm pretty sure that I can finagle them into helping me Rayshift out some of the lost texts! I can finally bring forth the lost poems of Ovid! The missing histories and sources! The original copies of all our extant sources! At long last, I live the dream of every Classical historian ever, and can recover all the sources we would give our arms for! Sure, I'll never be able to publish them academically, but at least I'll have them. Maybe if I'm really lucky I can show them to my high school Latin teacher and completely make her day.

To tell the truth, the only real downside to this mission is that it's in the Imperial era. More specifically, the reign of Emperor Nero, easily one of my least favorite Roman emperors. Not as bad as Tiberius, but Tiberius raped babies, so that's an extremely low bar to clear.

But still. I'm getting an opportunity literally ripped straight out of my wildest dreams, so I shouldn't be complaining. Not likely that I'll have to actually deal with Nero, after all. He was a noted coward. Never went on campaign even once, happier winning the people's affections by playing at being a celebrity than by actually acting like an emperor. In all likelihood, he'll stay back to cower in Rome, leaving military matters to the people who are actually good at them.

"Alright, people. It's time to preserve the history of Western Civilization." I grin. "And remember: When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

That one actually gets a laugh, as we head into our Klein Coffins. I fold my arms across my chest, and wait for the light to take me away.

--​

"My God, this meadow is very green," I note, staring out from the hill we landed upon.

"Spare the Lord your witticisms, worm. He has suffered enough on the Cross, there is no need to add having to listen to your pathetic attempts at humor to his burdens." annnnnnd there's Galahad.

"Indeed. How's that stolen body fitting you? I'm sure it's quite disconcerting, to lose your manhood in this form." I turn to look at him, and yup, still got Mash's body and voice. And her outfit.

"Unlike you, worm, I need not the trappings of gender to prop up my fragile ego. No matter what lies between my legs, I am still a man without equal."

"True. And it's not like you were ever going to be using the old box and tackle for much, so why mourn its loss?" And he actually reacts to that one. Point me.

Vlad clears his throat, and we both start as we realize we had an audience. "Fascinating as this little... squabble is, perhaps we should proceed to actually move on to the mission proper?"

The other Servants are there, too. Tamamo looks amused, Georgios and Xuanzang disappointed, and the rest I can't read. Vlad, for his part, is maintaining a meticulously neutral façade as he regards us.

"Fair enough. Roman, ring sighted, just like the last one." I get a sound of acknowledgement, and turn to look out over my surroundings. "Road nearby. Roman? Our location?"

"That's the Via Postumia. You're in Northern Italy. I think you're fairly close to Rome, though."

"Right. First things first, we find someone and ask for directions."

"How about them?" Galahad points and- Is that a Roman legion? And at the marching legion's heart is a litter, with curtains in imperial purple, covered in golden working and carried by four sturdy looking slaves. The sight of the litter quells my inner fanboy something fierce.

Alright. I can work with this. But... hm. "Hassan, scout it out."

And so we wait, until Hassan reports back. 'This legion is led by the Emperor Nero. From what I have heard, she is marching north to intercept a small invading force from a splinter faction known as the United Roman Empire.'

'She?'

'All adjectives used to refer to her have taken the feminine gender.'

I stop for a moment, before I burst out laughing.

"What's so funny, worm?"

"'Rome has suffered the tyranny of three women: Messalina, Aggrippina, and Nero!' He was being literal! h-h-He was being literal." I double over, haplessly wheezing and still cackling like a madman, laughing so hard my eyes begin to tear up.

"Worm?" Galahad is starting to look kind of fuzzy, now, and-

I pass out.

 

[Charles Flynn]

"I'm not sure slapping him awake is a viable option, Shielder."

"I really don't care at this point. I just want to slap the shit out of him."

Mm. What?

There's someone looming over me, and-

"I'm awake! I'm awake!"

Galahad slaps me.

"The fuck?"

"Just making sure." He gives me a patently false smile, as, behind him, Georgios sighs.

"Eh. So, what did I miss?"

"Nero's entire army was defeated and butchered almost to the man, and we couldn't agree on what to do, so we just grabbed your unconscious ass and booked it."

"Shit. How big was the enemy force?"

"One Servant."

"Oh. Well, shit. is Nero still alive, or is human history well and truly fucked?"

"She's still alive. She was taken captive when the surviving remainder of her forces defected. Whoever this Servant is, he's a Roman Emperor. He's marching towards Rome as we speak." Georgios interjects.

"Welp. New plan. We get in pretending to be a band of mercenary Servants, and then assassinate him when his guard is down. Then we drop Nero off in Rome, use her information network to get the lay of the land, and then head out." That should work well enough. And even if he sees through us, we outnumber him six-to-one.

"I'll tell the others."

---
​

Georgios rides up to the camp, with me on Bayard behind him. The others follow at their own pace, Hassan staying unseen to look for an opening.

"My Emperor! A rider approaches!" one of the leaders of the thirty remaining legionnaires calls out, pointing at us. The emperor is carried in Nero's litter, lounging with the curtains drawn back. He blond, and has the muscles of a bodybuilder. Fairly handsome, too. Behind the litter, two soldiers are dragging along a tightly bound blonde woman whom I'm assuming is Nero.

"Excellent work, soldier! As thanks, when we reach Rome, I will sleep with your wife!" the unknown Servant booms. There's an awkward pause, and the soldiers all look at each other, each silently asking the man next to them if he heard that too.

"Ah, good one, sir!" the spotter calls back with a distinctly uncomfortable grin.

"Indeed. I am most beneficent!" the unnamed emperor boasts, a jovial grin splitting his face. "Forevermore after, you shall be permitted to embrace your wife, and know that, however briefly, she has been touched by the divine! Truly, no greater gift could ever be given!"

The unlucky centurion who noticed us is starting to look like he's regretting not dying a few miles back with most of his comrades, but still pulls himself together to call out to us, "State your name and business!"

"Mercenaries, seeking employment!" I call back. "We had heard that the Emperor Nero was marching on campaign, and sought to find him, in the hope that he might hire us!"

"Ah, you speak wrongly, mercenary! My dear niece's forces have recanted their foolish and misguided allegiance to her, and she herself has come to accept her new position as my bride!"

"There is no Emperor of Rome but I!" Nero rages, practically frothing at the mouth as she struggles against the ropes binding her. "And we are not married, uncle!"

"Of course we are, my darling Nero! Why, I called down Juno herself to officiate our marriage, as all these soldiers have witnessed!" Said soldiers all nod to the affirmative, albeit reluctantly.

"No, you spent twenty minutes ranting at the air, and then turned around and said we were married! And these spineless cowards agreed with you, because they don't have the balls to die on their feet like Romans!" the soldiers dragging her along actually wince at that one.

"Ignore my bride's ramblings," Caligula (because of fucking course it's Caligula, I'm actually embarrassed it took me this long to figure it out) demurs, waving a hand grandly, and ignoring Nero's inarticulate screams of rage from behind him. "You shall be permitted, barbarian, to serve and worship at the feet of a god. You may now thank me."

'Hassan, Strategy Two. Take his heart. I'll keep him distracted.' "Great Emperor Gaius, no, most venerated Latiaran Jove, we would be pleased beyond all measure to-"

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya."

"-watch you die like an idiot. We work for pay, jackass."

Caligula, fortunately enough, actually does have the basic decency to just die then and there. He keels over with a look of shock and dawning anger on his face.

"You know, one of these days, that won't work. But until that day it will never stop being funny as hell."

"You're a disgusting excuse for a human being, Master."

"Hate you too, Galahad." I look over to Vlad, who's looking a bit annoyed at the anti-climax. "Hey Lancer!"

"Yes, my Master?"

"Not a single one of these soldiers is vital to the course of history. Go nuts."

As I dismount, I can hear Vlad start to giggle maniacally. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the dread tyrant of Wallachia grinning like a kid at Christmas. But like, Murder-Christmas. Christmurs?

"Shielder, Assassin, walk with me. The rest of you save Lancer, maintain a perimeter. No one escapes."

The soldiers part fearfully as I, with Galahad at my left and Kojirou at my right, walk through their ranks. Behind us, the screaming starts.

We stroll unmolested through the chaos. Or rather, Kojirou near-instantly decapitates anyone that tries to accost us. Really starting to regret the white uniform, though. All these bloodstains are going to be a bitch to wash out.

Finally, we reach our destination. The Emperor Nero looks on in horror as the men who once marched in her name are ripped apart and impaled, their dying screams drowned out by Vlad's laughter.

"Ave, Imperatrix Nero." I call out in greeting, as Kojirou's Monohoshizao slices her bonds. "Shall we discuss my group's going rates?"​

 

[Charles Flynn]

"You have the Emperor's thanks for aiding her against the imposter!" Nero informs us, rising to gaze imperiously at us. "Indeed, you shall be granted all you desire and more, when we have returned to Rome, should you choose to stand beside the rightful Emperor!"

"Excellent." Wow. She didn't even ask what we wanted. She is legitimately terrible at negotiating with mercenaries.

"Very well then! Slaves! Ready my litter!" she turns to face the huddled forms of her litter slaves, only for a taloned, gore-encrusted gauntlet to suddenly grip her shoulder.

Vlad looks her dead in the eye. "They. Go. Free."

She gulps, and then turns back to her slaves. "Right then. They have been doing a fairly good job of it, I suppose freedom isn't too much to ask for! Now, could somebody carry my-"

"You're walking."

"I suppose I have been meaning to get more exercise, lately! Right then! Onwards, to Rome!" She cheerfully starts forward, only to jump back screaming as her foot sinks into the ground with a nauseating squelch. No, wait, that wasn't the ground. She stepped onto one of the traitorous legionnaires' corpses. Vlad gutted this one. I think Nero stepped on his pancreas, actually.

I wait politely for Nero to recompose herself, which she manages to do after running around in a panic, trying to wipe her foot clean against the ground.

"Lancer? You done?"

"Just about!"

"Please! I have a family!"

"Oh, really? Good on you!" Vlad drives his taloned fingers into the man's eye sockets, and then pulls back, his armored fingers splintering the man's skull as he drags them upwards. The man struggles, screaming like a banshee, before finally falling still. "And, yep, that was the last one!"

"Feel better now that you got it out of your system?"

"A great deal!"

Finally, with Nero calming down, we traverse the killing field to join the others. Nero's too squeamish to walk on ground covered in viscera, so I make Galahad give her a piggyback ride across the field. And then, after we burn the bodies, we start on the road to Rome.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Georgios doesn't speak to me for most of the ride to Rome.

Finally, I muster up the nerve to speak with him.

"Are you mad at me?"

He looks back over his shoulder. "Why, no, Master. Why would you ever think such a thing?"

"This is about the field of corpses isn't it."

He gives me a deadpan look. "No. This is actually about that other time you let a violent and unstable Romanian warlord butcher an entire company of effectively defenseless soldiers."

"Okay, yeah. Fair enough." I sigh. "I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking, there." His unimpressed gaze makes me backtrack a bit. "Alright, I do know what I was thinking. That they were all traitors who would probably be flung from the Tarpeian Rock anyways, so why not use their deaths as a tool to take the edge off Lancer's bloodlust and give us a strong bargaining position with Nero?" His gaze intensifies, and I find it hard to look him in the eye. "That was wrong of me, wasn't it? Traitors or not, they were people." Suddenly, I'm all too aware of the blood still drying on the fabric of my uniform, not a drop of it mine. I feel dirty.

"I won't deny that you'll have to work with some of the worst sort of people, Master," Georgios says at last, turning his head forwards once more. "But that doesn't mean you have to become them."

That… that... Damn. I-

After a minute to compose myself, I look back up. "How did the others handle it?"

"Caster lasted a minute before she vomited. I think she's questioning whether she should be working with you. Berserker seems to be harboring similar doubts. Assassin, for his part, is completely unperturbed, although I sincerely doubt that he would so much as bat an eye if you ordered him to eat babies."

"Right. I'll talk to Caster and Berserker. And I'll try to keep Vlad from going on a rampage like that again." I look back towards Georgios. "And you aren't having doubts?"

"The Lord led me to you. Perhaps it was to do more than simply fight on your side."

"Thank you." And as I say that, I feel some imperceptible weight between us lighten.

 

[Charles Flynn]

As we head down the road, the foot traffic begins to grow more dense. And on the horizon, I see Rome.

It sprawls between the hills, great districts of marble and concrete tightly crammed together, between the seven hills. And it feels... alive. So very alive. Crawling and swarming with people in every nook and cranny.

It also smells like shit and unwashed bodies, and looks like an urban planner's worst nightmare.

"My Emperor!" I turn to regard the rider in legionary armor as he approaches us. "You have returned! Where is the legion? Who are these barbarians?"

As she regales him with a retelling of her misfortunes (albeit severely biased), I signal for Cursed Arm to scout around. Then, I interrupt her thrilling retelling of how, even in chains, her imperial glory drove even the most vile and black-hearted mercenaries to recant the allegiance to coin, and swear their eternal allegiance to the one true Emperor of Rome.

"Emperor Nero?" I interrupt. "My companions and I are quite exhausted from our ride, and our exertions in rescuing you and slaughtering your captors. Would it be permissible for us to ride ahead with a token of your authority to secure lodgings in Rome, that we may recuperate and consolidate our list of demands?"

"Certainly, my loyal subordinate!" she passes me her ring, and then returns to her audience, which has grown substantially as people begin to flock out of the outlying districts of the city. "So there I was! With my limbs freed, and my trusty sword in hand, I lashed, out, and slew ten with my first stroke! The mercenaries followed, driven to ten times their fighting fury by my imperial stature, and together we cut a path straight to the false emperor!"

I take my leave, with Georgios at my side. 'Xuanzang, Kojirou, stay with Nero. Make sure she returns to her palace safely.'

The ring gets us in with no problem, and we're directed to her acting regent by a messenger.

He's an old man, bald, and only lightly obese. His toga is tightly clenched in one hand, and his face is a stern mask.

"Nero sent you."

"Indeed. We saved her from her captivity after the defeat of her forces, and aided in the execution of those among her men that had turned coat in order to spare their lives. She was delayed outside of Rome, and sent us ahead to request lodgings, and inform you of her return."

He regards us for a moment. "Do you know my name?"

I pause, thinking it over. "From your conduct, and the fact that Nero trusts you enough to place you in command during her absence, I'd guess you to be Lucius Annaeus Seneca."

"I am indeed that man. Has my repute grown so greatly, that my name and station are known even to foreigners from distant lands?"

"I fear that your intellect has been greatly misreported to me, if you have so readily divined the distance of my homeland."

"Your clothing is unusual, with your pants marking you a Persian but your complexion marking you as being from much farther North. Beyond that, I have never heard my mother tongue spoken with your particular accent. I must conclude, therefore, that you come from quite a ways away."

"Indeed. I and my band had heard that the Roman Empire was in peril, and thought to bring our distant home no small benefit by selling our blades to you in your time of need."

"I have reports of Nero's arrival, with you in their presence. I suppose, in that light, I shall take you to be who you say you are. What are your demands?"

I break out my list of needed supplies. He takes it from me and begins scanning through it, before stopping on one particular entry.

"How in the name of Jove do you mean to carry a smelter all the way back to your homeland?"

"We have in our number a skilled maga, whose arts may permit such a feat. We need not the specific items, of course. We will gladly accept monetary payment of sufficient value in the place of any of the items on the list, that we may purchase it ourselves."

"And you believe yourselves to merit so high a price?" he's got his feet under him. He's going to haggle. Time to knock him off-balance.

"Nero's legion was destroyed by a single man." That knocks the wind out of his sails.

"What?" He keeps his face still, but the lines of his toga have changed, as is his hand is gripping it tighter.

"A single man destroyed Nero's legion. And we killed him in less than a minute. Ask Nero yourself if you still doubt our worth."

Seneca's face remains as impassive as polished marble. "We shall table this discussion for the moment."

"This is acceptable."

"How many munera has Nero ordered?"

"She has requested none that I am aware of."

"Give it time."

A messenger bursts in. "Worthy Seneca! The Emperor has demanded a stage be built just inside the city walls, that she might serenade the populace with a recitation of her doings on campaign!"

"Of course she has." The stern old Stoic actually sighs before composing himself once more. "Antonius, guide these mercenaries to the palace's guest rooms. They will be staying for some time." He turns to me. "Please take the opportunity to bathe and change your clothes before the Emperor calls you. I must go and make the preparations for the chariot races, theater performance, and gladiatorial games."

"I thought she had only asked for a stage to be constructed?" I interject.

"You really haven't known the Emperor for long, have you?" And with that, he makes his exit.

I leave the interview room, and nod for Georgios and Vlad to follow me. They do so, Tamamo curled up in fox mode in the crook of Georgios' arm.

"Good Antonius!" I say, turning to our designated guide. "Might you show us to our rooms, and possibly instruct us on where to go if we wish to make ourselves presentable?"

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Right. The bath was definitely worth it." I've changed into a fresh, spare uniform (Galahad apparently had one in his shield) and I felt like a new man. Still hoping I didn't catch anything from all that blood I got on me. I gave most of my Servants the day off, with the exceptions of Kojirou, Cursed Arm, and Galahad. Sent them out into the city in order to see the sights and gather information. 'Canvassing team, is Nero likely to call on us soon?'

'No. She has started tossing criminals into pits of starving wolves, so I can only assume that her little bacchanal will go on for quite some time.' Georgios replies.

'Are you sure we can't kill her, Master?' Vlad practically whines. 'She is in dire need of a good staking.'

'Look on the bright side, Vlad. ' I send back in my best consoling tones. 'She dies, according to history, driven to suicide, rejected by the people she claims she gave everything to, after killing everyone she cared about in her fits of paranoia. We're not saving her life, we're prolonging her suffering.'

'You have a twisted mind, Master. I like it.'

I turn to Galahad. "Do you think I could get Seneca to let me scan a few lost works for the Chaldean Archives?"

"I care not for your petty errands, worm."

"Thanks, pal. I knew you'd support me."

----
​

"And that's the last of Ovid's Medea. You getting this, Da Vinci?"

"Loud and clear."

"Shame we can't grab the missing books of Tacitus, though. Hey, he's actually a kid right now, so it's possible for me to meet him. Pretty cool, right?"

"Mercenary! I require your aid!" Nero bursts into the archives. "Come. Join me! I shall describe how I most valiantly rescued you from the false emperor's clutches!"
Join the revel, child of man.
"I-" I blink. What was I thinking, sitting around and reading when my emperor could have used my presence? Why is this even important? Nero needs me to do something, and she's the most important thing in the world! Really, I should never have left her side in the first place. "Of course, my Emperor!" Galahad looks confused for some reason. Why, though? Our Emperor is perfect!

She smiles, and drags me off.
​

---​

"And so I smashed his chains with my bare hands, and scooped him up in my arms!" Nero recounts, reenacting the deeds in question to my slight discomfort. I frown. I'm actually fairly sure it didn't happen like that, though.
Just enjoy the show.
Of course it happened that way! Nero said so, and Nero is perfect in every way!

Really, I have no idea what I was so upset about. Resting in the arms of my glorious Emperor is actually quite comfortable. Although I do wonder why Galahad is standing in the corner looking like he just saw a flying pig.
​

---​

"Ah, but what better way to follow an account of my feats of physical might than to put on a showing about that prince of physical power, Mighty Hercules!" my glorious Emperor crows, as I and all her audience hang wraptly on her every word. "Carlus! I shall play Hercules! Shall you be my Megara?" I- wait. I'm playing Hercules' wife? And, wait, why is she batting her eyes at me? Is she coming on to me? Yeah, hell to the-
Love me.
Yes. After all, for my Emperor to deign to take me to her bed would be an honor beyond compare. And to star in a play with her! Truly, no man alive could ever be so fortunate!

I frown as I look at Galahad in the audience. He seems to be outright panicking for some reason. Ah, well. It's probably nowhere near as important as Nero.
​

---​

"Carlus! Fetch us a wine jar, would you? And then, perhaps, we might retire for more... pleasant entertainment?" I'm not entirely-
Love me.
My Emperor would grant me so great an honor as to be her bedwarmer? Truly, an honor beyond compare! "At once, my Emperor!"

She ruffles my hair, smiling at me. We're in her private quarters, now. Galahad ran off for some reason or another. Nowhere near as important as Nero, of course. "Silly little mercenary. Just call me Nero. Now shoo. Get the wine."

I depart at once, Emperor Nero's glory lending wings to my feet.
​

---​

On my way back with the wine jar, Galahad slugs my in the gut.

"Worm! Snap out of it!" I can only wheeze as I kneel in the growing puddle of spilled wine and pottery shards.

"A bit overboard, don't you think, Shielder?" Georgios comments from behind me.

"Galahad! How dare you! I was on an errand from her Imperial Majesty to-" Hold on. What the fuck was I doing?

Something of my confused horror must be visible on my face, because Galahad smiles. "Back with us, worm?"

I throw up on his shoes.​

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Good Seneca! I seem to have noticed a minor irregularity regarding the Emperor!" I keep my tone jovial as Vlad dangles him by his foot over the edge of the building. "Any clarification you could provide as to why this aberration may exist would, of course, be greatly welcomed."

"And would your ridiculously-armored thug drop me if I should refuse?" Seneca asks, a single eyebrow raised wryly. I have to give the man points, though. That's the most emotion he's shown through this whole ordeal.

"Quite possibly, yes." I smile, showing as many teeth as I can. "So, are you feeling cooperative? I'd apologize, but Nero nearly dragged me off to her bed before I snapped out of it, and I have a gut feeling you know more about this than you've been letting on." Thus, the Batman interrogation. Unfortunately the tallest building in this city is three stories, so it's rather lost its impact.

"Perhaps. I had wondered if you were immune to it. I suppose this answers my question." Seneca observes, as mild and sedate as if he was discussing the weather. "I suppose I shall grant you an explanation, then. I will, however, require that your enforcer puts me down first."

"Lancer, you heard the man. Set him down on the roof."

Seneca gets to his feet, swaying a little as the blood leaves his head, before turning to face me. Then, he begins his tale. "I first met Nero when she was twelve. At the time, I was confused. She was a woman, and yet had been designated as heir to the Empire. What fool would allow such a thing? But then, well, you've felt it yourself, haven't you? The whispers, that presence, grinding away against your mind, permeating your consciousness, taking away your control until all you can do is slavishly dote upon her. I managed to resist it, though. My philosophy stresses self-control in all things, and, to my great pride, I managed to live up to the standards of my forebears. Thus, to some extent, I could actually tell her 'no.'"

My respect for him rises greatly. To stand in her presence, and deny her? How was that- How could that even be possible? I had only done it because I had a Catholic Saint on hand, even if I didn't know it at the time.

"She was shocked, of course." Seneca recounts almost fondly. "I was the first person other than her mother to deny her anything, after all. But, afterwards, she actually paid some measure of attention to my lessons. I think she might have started looking to me as a father, after a fashion." He sighs. "After that, of course, I confronted Agrippina. She initially planned to kill me, but changed her mind at the last moment. After all, it was a rare man who could resist her little Nero's presence, and it would be such a shame to waste so valuable a resource. So instead, she told me what she had done."

He looks at us grimly. "She knew from the start that a daughter could never become Emperor. But she was never one to allow anything to stop her. So, with Nero still less than a week old, she bound her child's soul to... something. She called it The Beast. Regardless, Nero has always unconsciously called upon that thing's power. Agrippina kept it in check with her potions and tinctures while she was alive, and the three of us who resisted its call, myself, Agrippina, and Burrus, the captain of the guard, kept Nero grounded, and prevented her own... impetuousness, from bringing ruin to the Empire."

"Why didn't you kill her?" I ask, still processing the news I've been given.

"I tried, at first. I came to our lesson one day with a dagger in the sleeve of my toga, ready to slit her throat and save Rome. But..." he hesitates, and then continues in a far softer tone. "She was so young. And she trusted me. I thought, perhaps, that I could guide her. That I could teach her to be an emperor. That, perhaps, I could save her." He laughs bitterly. "You can see how well that's turned out. She had Agrippina executed earlier this year. Burrus died not long after, and though they claim it was natural causes, I have my doubts. I'm the last of us three still living, and I don't doubt that she'll find a reason to have me disposed of soon. Even now, The Beast is growing within her. I shudder to think at what she'll become without me to rein her in." He pauses, and then turns to look at us, eyes full of hope and fear at the same time. "Have you come to kill her?"

I can't bring myself to look at him. "No."

"I suppose that would be too much to ask of anyone."

Once he's gone, I bring my hand up to my ear. "Roman? Did you get all of that?"

"Yeah." he sounds utterly shaken. "This... could be a problem."

"No shit." I look up at the stars, sprinkled across the night sky. In the amphitheater in the distance, bright torches burn, and The Beast revels with all of Rome.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Right. Nero turning out to have secretly been some sort of humanoid abomination ripped out of the pages of Lovecraft aside, the mission stays the same. We need to keep her alive, keep Rome alive, and kill whoever's behind this Singularity (fingers crossed for Lev!)

Which means that when Nero corners me the morning after I interrogated Seneca, I need a half-decent excuse for blueballing her.

"Ah. Mercenary! I was wondering where you went off to last night!" she calls in a tone as cold as ice as she strolls into the strategy room.

"Ah. My Emperor. I do dearly regret not having informed you of my departure or my reasons for it." I smile with as much false sincerity as I can manage, ignoring the faint crawling sensation on my skin and the distant whispers in my ears. If Georgios wasn't in attendance with me, I have no doubt that I'd be begging for forgiveness. "I was met on my way back by two of my subordinates, and briefed on a possible threat to the Empire."

"Really?" Shit, she's going to actually ask about it. "Tell me. What was this threat?"

"We had heard rumors that an enemy force had bypassed the army in Gaul, and was marching towards Rome. With the Emperor indisposed, the messenger came to us, and we immediately took the matter to our commander." Georgios interjects smoothly. I really owe the man a raise, or something.

Nero looks just as concerned as I do. "What sources do you have to substantiate these claims?"

"Multiple messengers from cities and villages in Northern Italy came into Rome last night. They claim that a foreign army was marching south, equipped with elephants and Numidian cavalry." Georgios answers calmly.

'Just to be clear, this is a real threat, and not just as wild goose chase for Nero?' I send mentally, as Nero and Seneca both think over their response.

'Yes. I was on my way back to the palace to warn you, since you weren't replying to my telepathic messages, when Galahad found me. He was panicking, and told me of what had happened to you. In the aftermath, my original purpose in seeking you out was somewhat forgotten.'

"My Emperor, this is a dire threat." Seneca mutters, stating the obvious like a pro. "How could this force get past the forces stationed in Gaul?"

"He might not have had to." I interject.

"Treachery?" Nero asks, eyes suddenly bright with rage and bloodlust.

"No." I think for a second. "Were any of their forces in the garb of a Roman legionnaire?"

"No." Georgios informs me, shaking his head. "They were described as being barbarians."

"Then they're not from the United Roman Empire." I begin thinking. "Perhaps I should first explain something, however. Nero. When you were defeated, it was by your uncle, Gaius Caesar, correct?"

"It certainly seemed that way," she agrees. Seneca, for his part, cocks an eyebrow quizzically.

"This is a war like no other." I inform her, getting into my role. "Among our foes and allies stand those who have transcended their mortality and become legends, stronger than they were even in life. Caligula is but one. I have no doubt that this United Roman Empire is led by a coalition of your predecessors."

"But- That's impossible!" Nero asserts, eyes wide. Seneca, although far more stone-faced, nods in agreement.

"There are more things on Heaven and Earth, dear Nero, than are contained in all your vaunted philosophies." You know, I never thought I'd ever have the opportunity to quote Shakespeare at a Roman Emperor. Not gonna lie, I am totally digging this. "The dead walk the land. This is incontrovertible fact. To deny it is to deny reality. Accept what stands before you. Accept what you have seen with your own two eyes, or perish. For only death awaits those that cannot endure the world as it is."

Nero pauses, mulling it over, and then, finally, acquiesces. "Very well. How does this incident fit in with your theory?"

"This new army might instead be the result of a separate legendary figure manifesting, separate from the United Roman Empire. If he did so on Italian soil, he could have easily bypassed what forces you have stationed in Gaul." I postulate.

"An army of legends?" she asks, looking worried.

"Or perhaps a legend of an army." I offer instead. "Or rather, a legend of a man who led an army. Specifically an army that contained elephants, and Numidian cavalry." I look at Nero and Seneca. Seneca, for his part, seems to understand just who I'm hinting at. His eyes widen, and his face slackens slightly.

Nero, for her part, seems to have completely missed my implication. "So? Who is it?"

I sigh, pinch the bridge of my nose, and then just say it flat out. "Hannibal Barca. I think that the enemy leader is Hannibal Barca."

She tilts her head. "Who?"

"I thought you were supposed to be her tutor!" I snap at Seneca, who actually looks slightly embarrassed.

"I was. She simply never listened to things she didn't find interesting," he replies, looking at Nero disappointedly. "Such as Roman history. And the Roman legal code. And economics, tactics, and mathematics."

Nero seems to have zoned out at the mere mention of math, but shakes herself from her stupor. "Your failings as a teacher aside, Seneca." He just sighs. "And I, of course, remember everything important about what you've taught me, in spite of your grievous errors. Of course I know who Hannibal Barca is! Mercenary, as a barbarian, your knowledge of our history is clearly faulty. Tell us what you know of Hannibal Barca, and I shall fact-check." She preens.

Deep breaths, Charlie, no punching the Emperor for her blatant stupidity. No matter how much you really, really want to. "Hannibal Barca was one of the greatest enemies Rome ever faced. As a boy, he bore witness to the end of the First Punic War, and his native Carthage's humiliating defeat. Filled with a desire for vengeance, he set his mind to defeating and humbling Rome. During the Second Punic War, he bypassed Rome's naval superiority and invaded Italy by crossing the Alps, in what was easily the most dangerous and brazen strategic maneuver ever employed up to date. With that done, he began to rampage throughout Italy, turning Rome's own clients and allies against them, and crushing every legion sent up against him. He repeatedly marched outside the walls of Rome, and not a single Roman dared emerge to face him. In the end, he was only defeated when Scipio Africanus attacked Carthage directly, forcing his people to recall him from Italy to defend them. With his momentum lost, he was defeated. All the same, the people of Rome's terror of him was practically etched into their souls. The third Punic War, and the razing of Carthage, was largely motivated by fear of a second Hannibal."

Nero is staring at the wall, eyes glazed over. I sigh, and then rap my knuckles against her forehead, which jolts her back to alertness. "Or, in terms you can understand: Hannibal strong. Hannibal bad. Hannibal hate Rome. That work for you?"

"I find that you know what you're talking about, mercenary, although your understanding, of course, pales next to my own." Must. Not. Punch. Nero. Must. Not. Punch. Nero. "But what does this Hannibal fellow want from us? Is he a potential ally?"

As I draw back to hit her, a messenger bursts in. Georgios takes advantage of the distraction to physically restrain me from slugging the Emperor.

"Emperor Nero! I come bearing dire news!" the messenger- hey, is that Antonius again? Small world! "An army of barbarians have taken Pisa! Their leader sent an open letter onwards to Rome!"

"Well, read it!" she snaps. I'm jolted out of my burning need to smack the idiot by my own curiosity about said letter, and so, decide to table punching Nero for another day.

"To the butchers of Rome-

I'm quite certain you never expected to see me again. Never expected to see your vengeance made manifest, the ultimate cost of your pride and your brutality. But I live anew, and I will be your doom. My home, my Carthage, is charred rubble amidst salted fields. My people are slaves or rotting corpses piled high in mass graves. So tremble, for once more I shall make our two states equals.

None shall be spared. Nothing shall remain. I will burn your city and salt your fields, and lay your corpses out in great unburied piles for the crows. Make peace with your gods, and entreat them for mercy if it so pleases you, for I have none.

Roma Delenda Est,
Hannibal Barca"

"So, not a potential ally," Nero muses as the rest of us stand in stunned silence.

Fuck it. I begin rhythmically banging my head against the table.

 

[Charles Flynn]

After having spent three hours strategizing with Nero, I can safely say that when Seneca said she never paid attention to his lessons on military tactics, he wasn't kidding. I had to actually explain to her why sending all of our forces out to run straight at the enemy while screaming like lunatics was a bad idea. Twice. And since she can't seem to pay attention or fucking listen to us for more than thirty seconds at a time, none of our explanations seemed to get through to her. Not helping matters was the fact that any and all other military experts we called in who weren't my Servants unfailingly agreed with everything Nero said, no matter how utterly wrong it was. Finally, however, we managed to lure her away by telling her that the people wanted another concert.

The misfortune of Nero's audience turned out to be our gain. Finally, we can have a planning session that isn't all about her, all the time. Vlad quickly takes the lead, thanks to his Military Tactics skill. Georgios, for his part, contributes on how the cavalry can be incorporated into the plan. Finally, we devise our strategy: We'll run a defensive war, remaining inside Rome's walls. We'll also sneak a cavalry division, led by Georgios, out of the city in advance, in order to attack Hannibal's army from behind should he lay siege to us. Vlad will serve as point defense on the walls, while Kojirou serves as the emperor's bodyguard. Hassan, for his part, will be sneaking into the enemy camp and attempting to assassinate Hannibal. Either by poisoning his food or by ripping his heart out. Meanwhile, I'll stay back with Xuanzang and Tamamo, ready to push the enemy back if they break through the walls.

The Romans were initially hesitant to resort to assassination, to be sure, but I managed to win them over by referencing a few exempla.

And thus, we set out to ready our defense, and, in my case, find a solid excuse to avoid Nero for a week.

---​

Hannibal arrives after a week, and we're ready for him.

'He's parading past the city. Taunting us in order to make us come out and fight us head on, just like he did during the Second Punic War. He doesn't have the forces to manage a proper siege.' Vlad sends to me from atop the wall.

Right. All we have to do in order to force him to come to us. Fortunately, nobody's stupid enough to rise to his taunting.

'Master, there is a problem.' Kojirou informs me.

'What the hell is she- Nero has taken the field!' Vlad sends to me, before launching into a profanity laden tirade about her stupidity.

I get a sinking feeling in my gut. 'Did anyone tell Nero the plan?'

'I tried,' Georgios offers. 'But she kept getting distracted halfway through. When I asked her if she understood, she just said that she knew what to do and it would be fine.' A pause. 'I really should have been more specific in my questioning.'

'Did she at least bring a proper legion in marching order?' I ask, feeling a sinking in my stomach.

'No. I think she's just got a bunch of civilians with swords.' Vlad sends back. 'They just ran straight out of the gate screaming "FOR NERO!" Most of them aren't even wearing armor.'

I take a short, five minute break in order to extensively curse out Nero, and every ancestor whose utterly boneheaded decision to reproduce led to the creation of that ultimate culmination of pure stupidity. Once that's done, I send to Kojirou, 'Has she gotten herself killed yet?'

'No. The entire force she went out with has been slaughtered to the man, but she and I have managed to survive against the enemy, largely because Hannibal is laughing too hard to actually give his troops orders right now.'

'Right, change of plans. We need to save her. Georgios, start that cavalry charge. Vlad, prepare to defend. Kojirou, start retreating towards the gates and take her with you. I'lll send Tamamo and Xuanzang to meet you halfway. Hasan, do your thing. We can still salvage this.'

'Do we have to save her?' Vlad whines. 'At this point, I think we can just call it natural selection.'

'Think about it this way, Vlad. Are you entirely sure that Rome would still fall if it hadn't spent so many years hamstrung by her blithering incompetence?'

'You raise a fair point, Master. Right, saving her it is.'

As Tamamo and Xuanzang dash off ahead, I make my way up the walls to stand besides Vlad.

Dear God, I hope the rest of the Singularity won't be like this.

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Jugurtha lies slain!" Nero bellows enthusiastically from the stage. "By my blade, and the noble sacrifices of the brave Romans that fought beside me, the great menace has been ended!"

Over in the back of the crowd, with Vlad and Galahad besides me, I sigh. "She's not even getting the name right."

"Did you really expect her to?" Vlad asks, shaking his head at my foolishness.

"No, because I already know she's an idiot. The stupid still burns, though."

"Cheer up, worm," Galahad offers, patting me on the back. "She still ends up dying horribly after killing everyone she loves, as you yourself pointed out."

"You're being uncharacteristically nice," I comment.

"After I actually got to know her, I found that I hated her more than I hate you."

I blink. "Yeah. I can totally see that. Not two hours after a bloody battle, and she's already up and wasting even more of the treasury on concerts and gladiator games. I know where she's getting the money, but where the Hell is she getting the energy?"

"From being the Anti-Christ?" Vlad suggests. He had been a bit smug about that little factoid proving true ever since we interrogated Seneca.

"Eh. Maybe. How long do you think it'll take for her to edit us out of the story? She's already 'forgotten' the bit where Hassan killed Hannibal by stabbing him in the back while he was laughing at Nero's dumbassery."

"Twelve sesterces says its in the first five minutes." Vlad offers. I take him on the bet, and then we settle down to watch. We'll have to leave Rome soon, to hunt down the United Roman Empire. And also because I don't think I can stand to be around Nero much longer without trying to strangle her. In less than a week, I'll be off travelling through Europe, with Nero safely ensconced in Rome where I'll never have to see her again!

"We cannot allow ourselves to lose the momentum! The vile traitors of the United Roman Empire cannot be permitted to continue to live! And so, tomorrow, I will be heading out on campaign, to take back what is Rome's!"

I mean, they've already paid us all that we need, and I've managed to scan back a boatload of lost works, so- Wait, what?

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"Indeed, accompanying me as my praetor on this expedition shall be loyal Carlus, who has proven himself a loyal citizen of Rome a thousand times over!"

-nonononononononononono-

"Together, we shall end this blight upon our great Empire, and restore peace and tranquility to all of Rome! Carlus! Join me! I have composed an ode to our coming victory!"

NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Did you really have to knock me out?" I ask, glaring at Galahad as I massage my sore head.

"Given you looked like you were about to charge onto the stage and beat her to death with your bare hands? Yes."

I sigh and lean back in my chair.

"Worm, it's not the end of the world."

"No, but it makes me wish it was." I groan. "She made me her second-in-command. I'm going to be spending multiple hours in her presence."

"At least you can keep her from doing anything too stupid." Vlad offers. Georgios nods in agreement.

"Yeah. I suppose I can." I smile. Maybe this won't be so- Wait, no. Don't tempt Murphy! Don't tempt Murphy!

---​

Five days later, I slump down in my cot.

"Roman?" I ask to my unseen observer on Chaldea. "Can we please kill her?"

"She's still vital to the course of history, Charlie," the good Doctor admonishes me.

"She left without even organizing the supply train! And when the troops started starving, she made me fix it! She makes me fix all of her fuckups, Roman! I barely get any sleep, I'm constantly working, and I have ADHD! Completing paperwork is borderline physically painful for me, and she's making me do mountains of it! And she never stops complaining. 'We didn't bring enough slaves, Praetor, purchase more for me!' 'This bed is too uncomfortable, Praetor, find a better one for me!' 'I'm putting on a concert, Praetor, have everyone who doesn't clap executed for me!' She just. Doesn't. Stop. And when she isn't complaining, she's hitting on me! I. Can't. Take it anymore!" I finally break down crying into my bedding. "Just let me kill her!"

"He does have a point, Doctor." Galahad points out. "She's so utterly obnoxious that I can't even relish his suffering. It's actually somewhat disconcerting."

"Look, you can't just have her killed." Roman maintains. "Look, just try delegating to your Servants."

"Alright. But if I have to keep doing this for much longer, I'm killing her, Human History be damned. I'm rapidly approaching the point where I don't want to live in a world where she has ever existed."

Roman sighs, but doesn't belabor the point.

---​

"Ahoy the camp!" our envoy calls.

We're finally here, after a whole, agonizing two weeks of putting up with Nero's bullshit. I sigh in relief as Nero's two generals ride up to greet us.

One's a huge, grey-skinned blond in a gimp suit. The other's... I blink. A woman? She's tall, with red hair, and a harsh cast to her face, two vicious eyes glaring out as she rides up to us on her chariot, her hair and fur cloak billowing in the wind. Actually, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that she was...

"Boudica! Spartacus! How lovely to see you again!" Nero calls out cheerfully.

What? No, seriously, what the actual fuck?

 

[Charles Flynn]

You know, before spending a week in Nero's company, I would have freaked out over two of Rome's greatest enemies commanding Roman legions. Now, though? I just felt dead inside.

"It is good to see you as well, Nero!" Boudica calls back cheerfully. "Why, I was beginning to wonder why, exactly, I was fighting for you, but the sight of you reminds of it all the more. Come on into camp, and don't mind the bodies. I had to have the troops decimated five times for being too Roman, and we can't spare enough manpower for the mass graves anymore."

Nero, for once her life, actually pays attention to something someone says. Does she only have ears for redheads? In which case, I suppose I can chalk Nero-wrangling up on the list of 'Things My Sister Would Do Better Than Me.' Her brow furrows, and she turns to me. "Praetor?"

"Yes?" Oh, I know where this is going.

"It seems that somebody needs to explain to General Boudica that you're supposed to kill your enemies' troops, and not your own. I'd do it myself, but I have a concert. Be a dear and talk to her about it?"

"Yes, My Emperor." I agree with a sigh. Well, I had wanted the chance to question her myself, why look a gift horse in the mouth?

---​

"Queen Boudica? May I enter?" I call, standing outside the tent of the Iceni's queen. Normally, there would be a guard on duty, but all of the soldiers stationed here had been dragged off for Nero's concert. Honestly, it was a small miracle that I managed to persuade her to leave a few to stand watch as sentries.

"You may." The woman inside the tent calls back. I pull back the tent flap and step inside. She sits at her desk, staring down at the missives strewn across it. She's changed out of the breastplate she wore before, into simple riding leathers. Her cloak has been haphazardly tossed over the bed. When she sees me, her face hardens. "Nero's praetor. To what do I owe this visit?"

"Please don't call me that. I'm not even a Roman citizen. She hired me as a mercenary, and then decided I was her praetor without any regard to her people's traditions." I sigh. "Honestly, just hearing the word makes me wince. She only calls for me when she wants her stupidity fixed."

Boudica's face softens a bit. "Well, then. Come and grab a seat."

I comply, and then turn to face her. "Anything interesting?" I gesture at the missives on the desk.

"No idea. I don't know how to read, and Nero dragged my scribe off to that concert of hers."

"Hm." Well, time for a leap of faith. "Are you aware that you're a Servant?"

She freezes. "Yes. I do know that." She turns and looks at me with suspicion. "The question is, how do you?"

"Well, as for how I know about Servants, I'm the Master of Chaldea." I pause. "um, you do know-"

"I do know about Chaldea. And the Singularities. I was summoned by the World with that knowledge." She informs me, crossing her arms. "I also got a description of what you look like, although I'm afraid I didn't recognize you in that armor."

"It's costume armor, actually. Nero insisted I dress the part, and when I tried on the actual armor I could barely walk. So, she hit up her personal theater's costume department."

Boudica snorts. "So, you're working with Nero. Makes sense, she's perfect, after all." She says it in the same formulaic way as every one of Nero's sycophants did, and suddenly, I come to realize exactly how Nero got the fiery queen and rebellious gladiator to work for her.

"Ah, yes. About that. I was wondering why you were working for her." I offer, redirecting the conversation. It's a risk, but, well, I actually like her. Letting her stay obliviously brainwashed just rubs me the wrong way.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? She's perfect, so working for her means I can kill more Romans than I ever could otherwise." her face falls as she seems to process what she just said. "Wait... No, I-" A slack-jawed expression of utter horror sweeps over her face, swiftly followed by blinding, all-consuming rage. "THAT BITCH! I'LL KILL HER!"

"And end Rome's suffering?" I ask in English. I don't think there are any observers about, but it never hurts to take precautions.

"What are you talking about?" she snaps, switching over to English as well.

"Well, first, I should ask just what it is you want, Queen Boudica. Do you wish to merely kill Romans? Or do you wish to make them suffer?" I emphasize the last word, drawing out every syllable with a vicious, malefic glee.

"I-"

"Because you want them to suffer, you'll let Nero live." Right, she's already bought my argument's hook. Now, all that remains is to reel her in.

"Really?" she scoffs. "They love Nero."

"Like you did?" She freezes as she processes the implication. "They are no more immune to her presence than you were. That dawning horror you just felt? They experience that every waking day, bound to her by chains they cannot break, loathing her even as they crave her, at once violating everything they hold to be good and right, and at the same time longing for more. For Nero to live, is for Rome to suffer."

"But-"

"And that forced adulation? She doesn't even know she's doing it. She goes blissfully about her day, completely unaware that all the love and praise she has been granted is hollow and forced. She thinks she's a genius!" I laugh. "Boudica, I can assure you, speaking as one of the many people she delegates the responsibility of cleaning up her messes to, that is most certainly not the case. She'll run Rome into the ground with not a single person even able to so much as complain about it."

Boudica pauses, face slightly flushed. "But, even still, how can Rome be destroyed by a Roman? What ruin can Nero truly bring?"

"I call myself a Chaldean, do I not? But poor oracle, I, that I should deliver no prophecy!" I boom, my voice rising as I go through my lines with gusto. Honestly, even when persuading a woman who could kill me with a sneeze not to screw up my mission, I can't help but ham things up. "I think I'll fix that oversight now. In four years, Rome will burn." Boudica seems almost hypnotized at the thought. "Its shops and streets will smolder, its buildings burn, and district after district shall be consumed in the ever-growing inferno. Father, mother, and child will perish alike. Patrician and plebeian will be devoured without distinction. Ancient tomes and priceless reminders of times long gone will be no more, a past consumed by flame. And when the deadly crackle of the flames is done, once Romans have died in agony, their flesh melting off in giblets from their cooked bones, leaving nothing but charred corpses behind, the roar of the fire will be eclipsed by the wails of the bereaved." Boudica is practically panting, for some reason, her face flushed. "And do you want to know what Nero will do?"

"Tell me." she practically moans.

"She'll build a palace called the Domus Aurea on the charred land left bare by the fire, and tell all who can hear, 'Now, I may live as a human being!'" Boudica smiles, still panting a bit. "And then, oh, then they'll turn against her, as she taxes the very skin off their backs. And she will grow ever more paranoid, killing everyone she loves, one by one, until, at last, she dies, a whimpering, sniveling, coward to the end." Boudica certainly seems to be enjoying the description of Nero's fall. "Nero is not Rome's savior. She is its doom, a sweetness concealing poison, thrust into the Empire's heart. She is the death knell of the Empire, a punishment for its' sins."

"Tell me more," she demands, looking me in the eyes as she does so.

"The Empire will continue to decline, the wolves of Rome turned rabid, and feasting upon one another," I continue, keeping up the tone. "Emperor after emperor, tearing the empire apart one piece at a time, always losing more and more land, the Romans too busy tearing at each other's throats to realize their decline." I grin viciously. "And then, as Goths and Visigoths storm the streets of Rome, as the proud purple togas of the Senators are dyed red with their blood, as Rome burns, the dying screams of its people the death knell of the Empire, they will realize what they've lost. And then, and only then, will they know despair." Boudica gasps, and shudders, before subsiding into a panting, sweaty mess.

After a few minutes of that, she collects herself. "Very well. I will consider what you have said." She gives me a 'this-never-happened' look. "You may go."

I comply, whistling as I leave. Ally: Secured.

 

[Charles Flynn]

"I believe that I have explained things to her satisfaction, my Emperor," I assure Nero blandly.

"Excellent!" she cheers, before her voice takes on a more sultry tone. "Now, then, Praetor, would you care to help me wash my back?"

Why Nero made me report to her while she was soaking in the callidarum of the local bath complex, I will never understand. Well, I actually understand quite clearly why she did it, she wants to get into my pants, and because I can't outright reject her without suffering a variety of consequences leading up execution, my wide array of deflections and excuses have only made her want me more. What I really don't understand is why she made Spartacus join us. He's currently naked in the callidarum, seated across from her and making no effort to cross his legs, which is honestly leaving me feeling somewhat inadequate.

I have Galahad and Georgios at my side, with Sasaki and Hassan both present in Spirit Form. Thus, I figure I'll never find a better time to test just how thoroughly Nero's Beast Aura can indoctrinate Servants.

"To do so would be improper, my Emperor, and beneath my rank. Have one of your slaves do it, if you cannot manage it yourself." Spartacus' face outright convulses.

"Bah. They were all defective, Praetor. Recalcitrant, ornery and disobedient! I had them all sold off to some farm somewhere after whipping them failed to produce any improvement." Nero whines, completely oblivious to how Spartacus seems to be having a seizure across the pool from her. "Now hurry up and help me wash. I've been longing to have your hands on me for some time."

Hm. Just a little push further... "If it's slave's work, then count yourself my slave for today," Nero snaps, turning to glare at me.

Bingo. "Very well, my master." I slowly start to kneel down, and....

"OPRESSOR!" Spartacus roars as he lunges forwards, prepared to beat Nero to death with his bare hands. Thank you, Spartacus. Now I have a backup excuse to get out of this that isn't just telling Nero, "I'd rather stick my dick in a rabid badger than ever have sex with you."

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya." Cursed Arm, that wonderful paragon of reliability, interjects, crushing Spartacus' heart and turning the Berserker's charge into more of a forward tumble. He still hits Nero, of course, smashing the side of the pool and sending ships of rock flying into at velocities that would cause me serious injury if not for my contract with Galahad. Heart crushed or not, Spartacus doesn't stop lashing out, smashing his fists into the Emperor's face once, twice, thrice... and he's done. He dissolves into golden light, leaving Nero battered, bruised, and bleeding in the crater he made.

"My Emperor? Do you require my assistance?" I'm actually a bit livid at the moment, to tell the truth. Having to buy those slaves to keep Nero happy was... not easy. So, seeing as the spoiled brat proceeded to whip them and sell them off to a farm where they were promptly worked to death, I'm chalking her current circumstances down to karma. I try to contain my vicious grin.

All I get back is a sort of burbled groan. "Right, Hassan, carry her back to her tent and call her personal physician." Hassan was usually the one I sent to interact with Nero, to be honest, which I always felt slightly guilty about. All the same, between the arm and the skull mask, I figured he was the least likely one for her to take a shine to and bring onto the target list of her little campaign of sexual harassment.

He sighs, tosses her over his shoulder, and then headed off in the direction of Nero's tent.

She'd be fine come morning. She could heal potentially debilitating wound overnight, so long as they weren't fatal, a fact I learned when she managed to get herself mauled by a freaking manticore on our trip up.

And so, with both Nero and Spartacus taken care of for the night, I set off to get some sleep.

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Queen Boudica, may I tell you what an utter relief it is to have someone other than Nero to strategize with?" I ask from where I stand beside her in her chariot. The hill we're on grants us an excellent view of the unfolding battle.

"You may." she replies, and I snort. Galahad's besides me, and Georgios is riding nearby. And before us, two legions march steadily towards each other, shield walls in formation. In the distance, I see a gold eagle held aloft, and besides it a tall, thin figure I assume to be their commander.

'Xuanzang, is the Emperor still heading as far aware from here as humanly possible so she can't fuck this up?' I send.

'Yes.' I get the mental equivalent of a pout. 'I'm not entirely thrilled with babysitting duty, though.'

'As a future bodhisattva and accomplished Buddhist, I trust you to strongly resist her Beast aura.'

'Georgios could do this just as well as I can, though.'

'If you want to go out on the battlefield and kill, far be it from me to stop you. bit more bloodthirsty than I expected from an avowed pacifist, though.'

That settles the argument. With that distraction out of the way, I return my attention to the battlefield.

"We're losing." Boudica observes, her eyes sharp as she watches the fighting.

It was plain to see. The two legions had smashed into one another, in a sort of bloody group shoving match. Pilae and arrows arced between the two blocky battle lines, and both lines still held. But ours was already being pushed back. It was impossible to know why, but the enemy just seemed to fight more vigorously. Regardless of the reason behind their superior morale, however, the result was all too clear. Our shield line had already been pushed back a dozen feet.

"Time to flip one of our trump cards, then." I respond. "Trumpeter! Two short and one long!" I really hope that I remembered that one right.

Yep, there we go. Two short, one long, 'Bring out the elephants!' So glad we salvaged a few from Hannibal's attack on Rome. The huge beast cause a panic in our enemies even before they reach the battle, the mere sight of them instilling terror. Our forces split open, forming two trenches for the great beasts through our ranks in a well-rehearsed maneuver. Then, the slaughter begins.

Okay, elephants are awesome. We might not even need to bring the servants in for this one. Woops. Spoke too soon.

As the elephants carve bloody gouges in our enemy's ranks, and our own lines advance to capitalize on our advantage, I hear the mighty thrum trebuchets on motion. Of course he set up siege weaponry emplacements. My respect for our nameless opponent rise- ARE THOSE THINGS TOSSING FUCKING MANTICORES?

Holy shit. Holy shit. HOW? Just... just... how?

Well, the damn spiky-tailed lion monsters are not doing my troops any favors. Time to even the odds.

"Georgios. Circle round behind them and wait for my signal." He nods grimly. 'Vlad, kill the manticores and then start cutting a swath through the enemy. Kojirou, Tamamo, stand your ground. Hassan, start targeting and eliminating the enemy officers, using your daggers only. Understood?' A chorus of confirmations reaches me. 'Then go.'

Both armies were thrown into disarray by our respective animal-based attacks. But our army has been drawn back to order thanks to Vlad, while theirs, although they had managed to kill the elephants, is still reeling, largely because Hassan is picking off anybody who starts barking out orders.. The trebuchets have apparently run out of tied-up manticores to throw at us, and are now just throwing rocks. Still damaging, but not formation-breaking. And so, Boudica gives the signal to advance.

"There's something magical about watching Romans slaughter each other," she comments with a sigh, fortunately in English. "I might not even order a decimation after we're done."

I honestly can't tell if she's joking, so I hold my tongue, looking at the enemy general. I blink. At where the enemy general used to be.

I look about, and I see it. A tall man in a red cloak, bellowing orders as he charges to the front line, his troops forming up around him, his legion's eagle in his left hand, and his drawn sword in his right.

Julius Caesar.

'Attention all Servants. The enemy commander is Gaius Iulius Caesar. He can be identified by his red cloak, and is currently bearing the standard of his legion's eagle. Kojirou, keep him occupied. Tamamo, Vlad, force his troops to retreat so that we can gang up and kill him if Kojirou dies in his duel.' Admittedly, my preferred strategy would have been to group up and kill him first, but I've long since learned not to deny my Servants their little duels.

With Caesar neutralized for the time being, the battle continues in full swing. Not expecting Kojirou to win, but-

'Master. I have slain Caesar.'

Okay, I have really got to stop underestimating Kojirou. With Caesar slain, his army breaks, the eagle falling to the ground.

"Now all that's left is the wrap-up."

 

[Charles Flynn]

'Xuanzang, how's that flanking maneuver you're guiding Emperor Nero on going? Still lost?'

'Yep. Turns out I was holding the map upside down at first. Then a wyvern ate it. Nero's been pretty good about saving my bacon, though. I think I'm going to make her my new disciple!' Xuanzang informs me, cheery as ever.

'You sure that's entirely because you want to?' I send back, worried.

'My brain is one hundred percent Beast-free, Master! But just so you don't worry, I'll be sure to work her into the ground!' she replies.

'Good. Just remember, try to stay as lost as you possibly can. I'll retrieve you via Command Seal once the campaign's over.' I grin. With Nero finally out of the way, we can really kick this campaign into high gear. She was easily our enemy's greatest asset, after all.

"Good news Queen Boudica. Xuanzang assures me that, although the two of them are ever-so-slightly lost, she's definitely on the right track, and they'll be back with us in no time." Boudica grins.

"Indeed. I'm certainly glad that our glorious emperor will soon be back with us," she recites mechanically, her lips quivering as she holds back laughter. "In any case, we've largely reclaimed Gaul. Where to now?"

"We have no idea where their capital is." I muse. "I have heard a rumor or two about a god out on some island in the Mediterranean. Could be one of the emperors. Tiberius, maybe? Ah, hell with it. Vlad's interrogating some of the soldiers we captured. If that falls through, we investigate and probably kill this supposed deity. In the meantime, though, I'm off to bed."

"Fair enough." She eyes me for a second, but doesn't say anything, so I shrug and duck out the tent flaps, Galahad joining me as I make my way back to my tent. Once I'm there, he sets up to stand guard at the entrance, while I settle down to sleep.

---​

Not a single one of the soldiers breaks, regardless of what Vlad puts them through. And so we bury our dead, and move on to find this god on the Mediterranean.

"So. Do we really need the legion? Or can we just send myself and my Servants?" I ask Boudica as we head into the port.

"Just you and the Servants, I should think. I'll return to my station at the neck of Italy. Keep an eye out in case the enemy comes." she replies.

'Xuanzang, how goes the distraction?' I send.

'Pretty good, actually. She got bored of looking for you and decided to just run off after some ridiculous rumor of a god on an island out in the Mediterranean. Wild goose chase real-' I round the corner and look Xuanzang dead in the eye.

Oh, no. I look around desperately. Okay, she's not here! Maybe we can slip aw-

"Praetor!" FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I turn to see the bouncy blonde source of ALL MY EARTHLY TROUBLES FOR THE LAST MONTH charging towards me, ready for a tackle-hug, which I obviously sidestep. Not deterred in the slightest, she's up on her feet in seconds, practically oozing cheerfulness.

"Praetor! We finally found you! Quick there's no time! I've heard rumors of a god out on an island in the sea! Come! You must accompany us! It'll be an adventure!" She grabs my arm and starts dragging me off to a nearby slave galley. I can only stare helplessly back at Boudica, who just gives me a bemused shrug, and mouths, "Better you than me." Traitor.

God? I don't know exactly what I did to deserve this living Hell, but whatever it was, I'm sorry.

And so, with Nero still babbling incessantly, and my Servants hopping on board after us, we set off towards this unknown island.

 

[Charles Flynn]

I can hear Nero at the door to the cabin they locked me in. Obviously, I grab for my knife, only to remember that my servants took all my weapons. Roman and Xuanzang shut off my Command Seals, too. Honestly, I don't know why they keep bothering. I'm mostly fine, completely recovered! My Nero-induced psychotic break is completely done! I only keep trying to kill her out of reflex is all!

Hm. I seem to be laughing for some reason. Should I stop? No, no, no. I should be laughing! It's funny because they think I'm crazy, that I just snapped after Nero killed half the galley slaves through exhaustion when she tried to water ski, and I'm not in my right mind, but honestly, I've never been more clear-headed! I'm just doing what any right-thinking man would do and killing her, in the process destroying history and creatring a world in which Nero has never existed! Perfectly rational! I mean, sure, I'll be taking out my dogs and my family too, but I'm sure that if they got to know her, they'd agree it's well worth the sacrifice!

"I'm sorry, he's still under the weather, and can't receive visitors," Galahad tells her. I'd contradict him and tell her to come right on in, but Xuanzang soundproofed the walls.

"Hello, Master," Georgios calls, de-astralizing as he enters my cabin. "How are you feeling?"

"Like there's ONE TOO MANY NEROS IN THIS WORLD!" I bellow, a bit of spittle flying from my lips as I break into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Other than that, could you guys start letting me out to go to the bathroom? I've had to shit in that corner for the past few days, and its really starting to stink up the place."

Georgios just gives me a disappointed look, and then sighs. "Master, could you tell me about your family?"

"Why?" I blink. Bit of a sharp turn from our other therapy sessions.

"You just seem rather willing to sacrifice them. I merely wondered how they must have mistreated you, to inspire such disdain." I promptly break my fist against his face.

"And, might I ask what that was for?"

"Don't you dare talk about them like that!" I snap.

"You love your family, then?"

"Damn straight I do."

"Then why are you so willing to sacrifice them?"

"Because..." Because I can't stand Nero. Because I can always hear the whispers, even when Georgios shields me from them. Because she's easily the most incompetent leader I've ever met. Because she's a monster, even if she's cheerfully oblivious to the things she does being wrong. But... is seeing her die screaming and in pain really worth not saving my family?

No. I'd kill for them. Now I have to let her live for their sake.

"I'll endure her a bit longer. Just keep her away from me."

"Good. We're approaching the island." Gerogios smiles. "And Xuanzang made something that you might find helpful."

"What?"

"She managed to give Nero a mute button."

I stare at him in silent awe. "I'm sorry, Georgios, but I think Xuanzang just became my favorite Servant."

"I completely understand."

 

[Charles Flynn]

"So. Nero won't be joining us?"

"Nope!" Xuanzang grins. "I prayed to the Buddha, and he answered by casting her into a deep slumber. She won't wake up for quite some time to come."

"So, is that discipleship still on the table?"

Xuanzang grins, and I return my attention to the mission at hand.

"So. Our interception team. Xuanzang, use your magecraft to conceal yourself and Vlad. Cursed Arm, do the same with your Presence Concealment.You'll be held in reserve in case we need to give this so-called god the Nereus Special. The rest of you, with me."

We head out in the rowboat.

Waiting for us on the shore is a little purple-haired girl. Excellent! A guide!

"Ave, puella! Would you care to guide us to the god of this isle?"

Her eye twitches. "You gaze upon her, insolent fool! I am Stheno, goddess of beauty, embodiment of men's desires. The perfect idol of all mankind. I shall forgive you your ignorance, for the moment."

Oh goddammit. This is Tiberius' sex dungeon island. "Look, I know life as a child prostitute is hard, but do you really have to go whole hog on acting out TIberius' fantasies? This one doesn't even make sense! Everyone know that Stheno was a grown woman with boar tusks and snakes for hair, not some sort of... pedophile's wet dream, Just point us to Tiberius, and we'll get you out of here after we kill him."

"You insolent FILTH!" the purple-haired child prostitute roars, spittle flying everywhere as she bellows. "YOU WILL GIVE ME THE REVERENCE I AM OWED! SMILE OF-"

'Vlad, Nereus Special.'

The goddess's invocation of her Noble Phantasm is cut short by Vlad the Impaler appearing behind her and putting her in an arm bar. And sweet Jesus God Almighty, that is a weird sentence.

"So. You really are the Goddess Stheno, although I'm fairly certain that's not your real face."

"MINIONS! GET THEM!" She then breaks off into pained cursing as Vlad twists her arm harder.

Right who are her subordinates?

In the blink of an eye, Tamamo Cat is tackled by... Tamamo Cat?

"Oh, hi! I like your hair! Oh, those paws of yours are soft as a kitten's milk breath."

The "fight" quickly devolves into the two ditzy Berserkers getting stuck into a session of volleying complements. Right, so, I'll count that as a mutual neutralization. You know, I never before considered how much Tamamo reminds me of Tigger. Now it's all I can think about.

"Singing for justice, an IDOL APPEARS!" a high-pitched voice announce. A pink-haired... dragon girl? stands, arms akimbo, atop a short, rocky bluff a bit up the shore. "For attacking my patron, I, the cute and powerful Elizabeth Bathory, will STRIKE YOU DOWN!"

Right. I can neutralize this one easily, I think. "Elizabeth Bathory?" I ask in my best fanboy voice. "I'm a HUGE fan of your singing!"

She freezes. "R-Really?"

"Of course! I was hugely disappointed when you didn't show up for the musical competitions at Rome. What are you doing in a backwater like this?"

"There's a singing competition in Rome?"

"Of course! We'd be happy to give you a lift!"

That quells her. And I think that's the last of them! No, wait, DON'T TAUNT MURPHY! DON'T TAUNT MURPHY!

"NEROOOOOOOOOOOO!" Summoned by my unwise thoughts, Caligula, apparently risen from the dead, leaps from the sea like a majestic fucking dolphin, before coming down in a three point landing directly in front of me. You know, earlier, I didn't notice, but he is really goddamn tall.

'Hassan!'

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya." The taloned hand crushes the black heart, and nothing happens.

"Did you really think that would work twice?" Caligula asks, sending Hassan flying with a casual backhand. "I am Gaius Caesar, fool. A god made flesh. Now then." He lays one meaty hand upon my shoulder and squeezes. "Where is my daughter?" He blinks. "And why are you torturing one of Tiberius' child prostitutes?" Stheno makes a muffled noise of indignation. "It he here? Is Tiberius here?" He sounds honestly terrified. I can use that.

"Yes." I lie, and Caligula flinches as if he's been struck. "I'm surprised you identified her so easily, though. What gave her away?"

"It's the hair," he sounds haunted as he says it. "The purple hair. Tiberius always made his favorites dye their hair purple. He once made me dye my hair like that. I spent the next three days a paranoid wreck, expecting him to burst in and rape me at any moment." He sags, looking around like a panicked animal. "I- I need to get away."

As he lets go of my arm, I grab his shoulder and look into his eyes. "Why are you still afraid of him?" He looks at me in shock, as if he'd forgotten I was there. "Why are you still letting him control you? He's not emperor anymore! You are! You are Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, and you are your father's son!" His spine straightens, his fear fading away, replaced by steely determination. "Now go in there, and teach him to fear your fury!"

"You're right. You have my thanks, mercenary." he strides boldly off towards the island's interior, his soggy purple cloak billowing out behind him.

I wait until he's out of earshot before turning to my Servants, who are all staring at me for some reason. "Right, we should probably hurry this up so we can get going before he figures out that I lied to him."

"Master?" Georgios says, looking at me with respect in his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're scary, sometimes."

"Thanks. Now let's move! The goddess isn't going to interrogate herself!"

 

[Charles Flynn]

"So, you're DM?" Roman asks.

"GM, but yes." I answer. My fairly extensive collection of sourcebooks is laid out in the crates.

"Yeah. So, basically almost identical to 3.5, right?" he asks.

"Yep. Pathfinder's a lot of fun once you get a hang of it," I inform him, looking through the Adventure Path once more.

"Who else is joining us, then?" Roman asks, already rolling up... a wizard? I guess being a non-magus surrounded by magi left him with a hankering to see what's on the other side.

"Well, I asked a few of the Servants if they'd be interested. Hundred Face declined, but asked if they could borrow the books on Thursday to run a game or two for themselves." Roman looks about as confused as I feel at that tidbit. "Yeah, I don't know what that was about either. Vlad said he's be interested, as did Georgios. Cursed Arm also wanted in. Cu declined, all three of them, but Mash actually overheard and thought it sounded interesting."

"Right." Roman sighs. "So, a lot of newbies?"

"Yep."

A knock on the door.

"That's probably them now!"

---​

"Paladin." Georgios firmly states when I ask if he's picked out a class yet.

"Are you sure? I mean, you pretty much already are one."

"I'm just starting out, so I'll stick with what I know." He grins.

"Fair enough." I turn my head to Vlad. "How about you?"

"I like the sound of this 'Inquisitor' class," he comments. He's changed out of his combat armor into a T-shirt and a pair of khakis, which is frankly giving me a headache. It's just weird to look at him and not see a crap-ton of spikes. Well, at least Mr. Spikey McSpikerton isn't impaling any of my sourcebooks. "I shall punish the unjust, wicked, and base in the purifying flames of God!"

"So, what you normally do, but with less spikes?"

"Yes."

"Neat. You're going to have to pick one of the setting's deities, they're listed in the-"

"No."

"Okay, then." That's going to be annoying, but I'm nowhere near suicidal enough to press Vlad the freaking Impaler on the Jesus issue. Georgios, for his part, is nice enough to just make himself a paladin of Iomedae, and gives me a sympathetic look.

"Alright, Mash? Hassan? What about you?"

"Oh! If's it's alright with you, I'd like to play an Investigator, Senpai." she's painfully earnest.

"Sure. No problems there." Not much of a surprise, either. Investigators are basically Sherlock Holmes: The Class.

"I will be playing a Cleric of Sarenrae," Cursed Arm offers, which very nearly makes me do a double take.

"Sure. Okay, with that squared away, let me just break out the Advanced Race Guide."

---​

Once the arduous process of choosing races is done, Georgios is playing a human paladin of Iomedae, Vlad an extraordinarily fanatical human inquisitor of God, Mash an elven investigator, and Hassan an aasimar cleric of Sarenrae. Roman, his optimized-up-the-wazoo wyrwood wizard done hours ago, just sat on the sidelines, enjoying my suffering.

"Right, so you all meet in a tavern."

Cursed arm raises his hand. "My character's faith forbids alcohol, though. Why am I at a tavern?"

"You're here for the company."

---​

"So, just to check, Vlad, your character is Lawful Good, right?"

"Of course! His soul courses with the righteous word of the Lord!"

"Just checking. Carry on."

"Ah, yes. So, as I was saying, after our initial assault is finished, and the goblins are pushed back, we stake the corpses as a warning to survivors. Then, we take their filthy spawn, smash their heads against the stones, and use their blood to write out warnings to any that might return."

"Um, Vlad?" Roman ventures, brave fool that he is. "Are you sure that all of, well, this, is in accordance with the Lord's tenets?"

"Of course, Doctor!" Vlad bellows. "These vile monsters have struck against our Holy Lord's children, whom he made in his image, and loves dearly. In the defense of righteousness, no measure is too extreme!"

"But, isn't God also a divine force of love and forgiveness?" I have to venture. Georgios nods along. "Even if somebody is working to defend and strengthen his cause, a sin is still a sin. Just look at Kings David and Solomon. They did great work in the service of God and his people, but their faults weren't excused, and were still punished."

Roman starts angrily. "Okay, David, I agree with, but Solomon wasn't all that bad!"

I raise an eyebrow. "There was the frankly ridiculous collection of concubines-"

"Probably for political reasons!" Roman interjects.

"The fact that he summoned and bound demons, and allowed his wives to bring altars to foreign gods into Israel," Georgios interjects.

"What was he supposed to do, force the women who'd been sent off as political bargaining pieces to convert? He wasn't heartless, you know!" Roman counters.

"Didn't he once threaten to chop a baby in half?" Vlad asks. He grins. "Say what you will of me, but I've never threatened to bisect an infant in order to resolve a custody battle."

Roman sags at that one. "That... probably sounded like a good idea at the time."

Mash chooses that moment to return from throwing up in the bathroom. "I'm back! Is Vlad done yet?"

---​

Finally, however, the session wraps up.

"This was fun." Roman says, picking up the snack wrappers whilst I clear the table. "Same time next week?"

"Barring a Singularity, sure."

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Hispania! The United Roman Empire's capital is in Hispania!" Stheno bellows.

"Right." I look at Hassan. 'You'll split off to check the intel for accuracy, while we gather troops in Rome'

"You'll pay for this, mortal," the gorgon growls.

"True. But not to you. Vlad. Finish it."

She time to curse me before the spears pierce her flesh, and sharp, taloned gauntlets rip her to shreds. Other Tamamo and Bathory are already on the ship, so only Georgios, Galahad, and Cursed Arm are around to bear witness.

"Was that really necessary?" Georgios asks, looking disappointed in me. That stings, I won't lie. But, all the same, this was necessary.

"I'm not leaving a goddess, however weak, with a grudge against us alive. Now let's go, before Caligula catches up."

And that's that.

---​

"I've sent Cursed Arm to investigate." I tell Queen Boudica, wrapping up my report. She nods. Nero was easily persuaded that the people wanted another concert, which left us free to strategize without her interference.

"Good. Gods willing, we'll have this Singularity done within the month." She looks somewhat bashful all of a sudden. "I'm... sorry for just leaving you with Nero."

"It's fine." I grin. "We got solid allies and good intel out of the whole affair. What more could we ask for?"

"True enough."

And so we sit and wait to wage our war.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Reinforcements roll in soon: Two more of Nero's Servant generals, Jing Ke and Lu Bu. Apparently they ran into and killed three "emperors" on their way in. I narrow it down to Caesar (again), Germanicus, and, for some reason, Cleopatra. Not a single one of which was a Roman Emperor. Not telling them that, though. Jing Ke just seems so thrilled at having killed an emperor that I can't take that away from her.

But, all the same, it's time to get going. And so we do. After ensuring that all the supply lines have been established, of course.

---​

"And then, the coyote just... looks down, and you can just see him think: 'Well, I'm doomed.' And then he falls straight down." Boudica chuckles as I wrap up my attempt to describe Loony Tunes to her. We're riding in her chariot as the legions march forwards.

"So, what is a coyote?" Boudica asks, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. "I've been meaning to ask that for the whole story you told me."

"Well-"

"General! The cavalry is attacking our flanks! Additionally, an army advances towards us from the front!" a messenger... is that Antonius again? Small world. Well, anyways, he's panting like a dog.

"I'll coordinate the Servants, you coordinate the troops?" I ask, glancing at Boudica. She nods.

"Further, General Lu Bu has betrayed us!"

"What?" Why? Why would he do that? That backstabbing bastard! Ugh. This is what I get for working with Servants whose legends I haven't researched. I turn to Boudica. "Right. Hassan will kill him. Lancer will serve as a wrecking ball against the enemy formation, while Rider and the cavalry intercept the enemy raiders at our flank. That work for you?" She grins, with an intensity and vibrancy usually reserved for the prospect of dead Romans. Taking that as assent, I relay my orders to my Servants.

It's noon, and the hot sun burns down upon us with a harsh and hateful gaze. The army fills the road we march down with a cacophony of thundering feet, all but drowning out the distant clashes of steel and screams of the dying.

'Master. The enemy cavalry has been repelled.' Georgios sends.

'Good.' I switch my focus over to Hassan. 'Is Lu Bu dead?'

'Yes, but not by my doing. Lady Jing Ke is truly an assassin without peer.'

Interesting. I'll have to incorporate her more in my future strategies.

'Solid work. Return to Presence Concealment.' I redirect my focus to Vlad. 'How goes the front line, Lancer?'

'There's a slight problem, my Master.' he sends back, sounding harried.

'What sort of problem?'

'The enemy soldiers are undead. And on fire.' I blink at that one. 'They seem to be the Noble Phantasm of the black-skinned giant who's currently riding at the army's center on a flaming, undead elephant.'

I blink. Zombie Hannibal? I then promptly smack myself upside the head for letting myself think something so utterly asinine. Elephants were a common feature in armies from India, Carthage, and the Persian Empire alike. Largely because they were basically walking siege engines. 'Right. Hold out. Help is on the way.'

Redirect to Hassan, and... 'Servant attacking the front lines with an Army-type Noble Phantasm. Link up with Jing Ke to infiltrate the enemies' ranks and take out their leader.'

'Understood.'

As Boudica continues to bring the troops to order and receive messengers, I redirect my attention to perhaps the most important field of this battle: Keeping Nero the hell away from it.

'Kojirou, how goes the distraction?'

'She's getting agitated, but still holding in place.'

Good. Xuanzang and Tamamo are both astralized nearby to serve as my bodyguards. Galahad's following behind the chariot on foot, keeping his silence. The servants from the Shapeless Isle were left in Rome, to defend the city in our absence.

'Master. The front line is secure once more.' Vlad sends after a six-minute wait.

'Good work, everybody. All threats eliminated.' I send to all my Servants.

---​

Tonight, we've set up camp on a hill. Solid view from all sides. Nero insisted we join her in the gaudy pavilion she made us bring along, and she's been yammering away non-stop. I've mostly managed to tune her out, though. Around us, the slaves she insisted we bring along on campaign carry the various dishes about as we recline on dining couches. The very picture of Roman luxury. I try not to betray my discomfort.

"My Emperor! An envoy has arrived from the enemy!" a legionnaire bellows, his flat palm out in a Roman salute. "Should he be permitted in?"

"Certainly!" Nero cheers. "Let him see the glory of the Rome he has betrayed!"

I quickly check with my Servants to make sure that they're all in a position to properly defend, should this prove to be a trick.

The envoy steps into the pavilion. And he looks... modern. A sharply tailored suit girds his form, a pair of fine glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He has long hair, and a stern, regal face. For some reason, something about him reminds me of a few of my old teachers.

"Emperor Nero, I presume?" he asks in flawless Latin. My brow furrows. This man is definitely a Servant. But which one is considerably harder to place. "I come bearing a message from my king and sole commander, Alexander the Great."

That gets a round of gasps. I think one of Nero's tribunes just fainted. And, once the shock has subsided, an excited hum rises, every military mind in the entire tent practically squealing at the opportunity to actually meet the man whose brilliance defined all things military for the last four centuries.

"The great conqueror of old has risen as well?" Nero asks, seemingly unaware of her various officers fanboying over our enemy. "And what message has he for us?"

"He desires a conference with you, Emperor Nero. That the two of you may speak of affairs of kingship, and find common cause, or, failing in that, settle this matter of armies between the two of you."

God-Dammit. A fight between a servant and a living human? This is a decapitation strike, pure and simple. If his legendary charisma doesn't win her to his side, he'll overpower and kill her in the trial by champion.

"Very well! Where shall we meet?" Oh, for fuck's sake.

"My Emperor, are you sure that's wise?" I interject. "This is Alexander the Great we speak of. A legendary demi-god. Setting aside his superior tactical acumen, he is most likely more than capable of defeating you in single comb-"

Her backhand catches me across the face mid-sentence, and suddenly, everything is pain. I'm sent flying to the side, catching myself against one of the couches, as she looms over me.

"You forget your place, mercenary." She says coldly, looming over me. "You mistake your contributions for standing in for my genius. You are not the brilliant military leader whose genius has lead this campaign to victory. I am! You are not the one who has cast down every legend who stood against us! I am! You forget, Carlus, that you work for me, Nero, greatest Roman to ever live! If you ever so much as think of giving me orders again, I will have you sold as a gladiator. Do I make myself clear?" She kicks out my legs from under me. "Answer, mercenary!"

"Yes, my Emperor," I choke out, trying to keep my voice level through the seething rage in my heart. I chance a look around. Galahad and Boudica both look outraged, but hold their tongues while Jing Ke has set her food and drink to the side, looking outright sickened.

"Good." She turns to the Praetorian guard, still standing solemnly at the pavilion's entrance. "Carry him out, beat him, and then take him to the blacksmith's to be fitted with his collar. He needs something to remind him of his place."

"Yes, my Emperor." The two chorus in unison, each seizing me by the arm and dragging me off. I don't struggle. In fact, all my mind is focused on my family, and on why this will all be worth it in the end.

As they drag me away, I see Nero turn back to the messenger, who's staring at her with outright disgust. "When, good legate, and where should this meeting take place?"

 

[Charles Flynn]

I wonder what sort of welcome I'll get when I return home? To my blue house, in my little town, with my family inside.

They drag me into the blacksmith's tent. I hear them relay their orders, that a slave collar be forged.

I'll walk in the door, and my dogs will be so happy to see me again. Fitz will be first to reach me, I think, darting along with his white-tipped tail wagging up a storm. Chico will be along behind him, just as eager, but too old to really run fast any more, his skinny legs carrying him across the floor as his stubby stump of a tail wags joyfully.

Fresh collars, just forged, the blacksmith says, still hot. It'll burn him, says he. They don't care.

And my sisters will be there too, Ella, two years younger than me, but still surpassing me in just about everything, and Corey, two years younger than her. Corey likes to paint. I think I'll ask her what she's made, while I was gone. She's got a real talent there.

The blacksmith fetches the collar, still steaming to the touch, and straps me down. The praetorians poke me with their swords to make sure I don't get any funny ideas.

And my parents will be happy to see me too. Mom will be happy that I'm home from Antarctica, and Dad will be proud of me for working for the UN at Chaldea. And even if I can't tell them all that much about it, I'll know that I saved them. And that every bit of suffering along the way was worth it. This will be worth it, in the end.

They fix the collar around my neck, and all I know is pain.

 

[Charles Flynn]

I think I'm really starting to understand Spartacus, now. I didn't before, but now I'm really starting to get it. The rage. The desire to tear down those who have hurt you, and burn them and everyone like them, so nobody ever has to bear this indignity again. The refusal to ever be reduced to mere property again. I think I owe him an apology when I get back to Chaldea, to tell the truth.

But, all the same, it hasn't been easy. I had Cursed Arm kill and hide the bodies of the blacksmith and the praetorians who fitted me in this thing. It doesn't change that I still have to wear it, or else Her Imperial Majesty will get uppity. I could have her killed at any moment. That thought is a great comfort to me whenever she makes me go out on some menial task in order to "make sure I'm not getting ideas."

Boudica's been sympathetic, at least, as has Jing Ke. The latter seems to be contemplating trying to assassinate another Emperor. As for my Servants, well... Xuanzang healed my burns, although they left a nasty scar. Vlad was practically frothing at the mouth, and offered to stake her himself. Even Galahad was angry at her over this. It doesn't matter, though. The mission comes first. Humanity comes first. No matter what it costs me.

I nod to the soldier guarding my tent flap, who looks at me with pity in his eyes. It's been a fifty-fifty chance, really, of whether they look at me with pity or disgust. I think I hate the pitying ones more, though. They make it awfully hard to hate everything about the Empire.

The conference is today. Two days after the messenger arrived, and Nero decided to collar me. I walk, my Servants at my side, Georgios and Galahad flanking me, to join my Emperor.

"Ah! Carlus! Excellent to see you!" she calls cheerfully, as if we're the dearest of friends. "Are you prepared to bear witness as I triumph over the greatest king of Greece?"

"Indeed, my Emperor." I say, my face as harsh and inexpressive as stone. The white robe she's making me wear is a bit drafty. She won't allow me the costume armor any more, nor will she let me wear my proper uniform. I honestly think she enjoys forcing me to dress according to her whims.

"Yes!" she cheers, before strutting off to meet with the King of Conquerors. I follow silently, my Servants still flanking me.

---​

"Emperor Nero," Alexander the Great calls in greeting. I blink. He honestly looks nothing like the statues of him. Then again, the same could be said of Nero. "What do you want?"

She, of course, jumps at the opportunity to show off. "I desire no less than for you and all your foolish pack of dead men and traitors to bow down and pledge fealty to the one true Emperor of Rome, or else die!"

"Hm. Denied." Alexander clears his throat. "Perhaps I should make our position clear. King Romulus-" a great wave of awe-struck whispers goes through the troops at that- "is willing to set aside his dislike of you, forgiving you for your many, many, crimes and offering you a place as one of the many Emperors of the United Roman Empire. You'll be granted a territory to govern, and a seat in the Imperial Senate, that Rome's proud tradition of non-autocratic rule, established in the great age of the Republic, may continue, and the greatest men and women in Roman history might work together to build a brighter future!" He spreads his hands wide, seeming to be warming up as he talks, his volume rising as he goes. "So, Nero, what do you want? Why are you Emperor?"

"There is no emperor but me!" Nero snaps, black veins running through her eyes. "Your greatness is nothing compared to mine! Your insight is folly before mine! Your deeds are ash compared to mine!"

"Such audacity," Alexander rumbles. "And what, little Emperor, are your deeds? What dream have you, and what is your purpose?" He's indignant, but still challenging. Interesting.

"Great deeds are a waste of time," Nero replies, her tone scornful. "Conquest is folly, monuments a waste of good stone. While you who came before me wasted your time seeking greatness, I, born perfect, have attended to the purpose of a ruler."

"Which is?" Alexander asks, brows furrowed. He's testing her. I just don't know why.

"To let one's subjects die happy." Nero announces proudly. "What purpose do great deeds serve? What's the point in extending one's life? Why waste wealth and resources on power and expansion, when they can instead be directed towards ensuring that one's people go to their graves with smiles on their faces.?"

There's a pause, and Alexander looks just as fundamentally disturbed as I feel right now.

"I see, then." Alexander frowns. "You are fit neither to rule, nor to live."

Nero looks like she's been punched in the gut. "But-"

"Enough words. Draw your blade, or brand yourself a coward."

'Now.'

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya."

"All I Do Is Kill!"

The two Noble Phantasms hit the King of Conquerors at the same time. I honestly can't tell which one killed him. And, as he falls, the army behind him surges into action screaming about broken parley. In particular, the sharp-dressed emissary leads the charge, firing blasts of magic into our ranks and marking himself as a Caster Servant.

'Georgios.'

'On it. We will discuss your dishonorable actions later, my Master.'

I stare at the advancing battle line.

'Kojirou, drag the emperor back to safety. Galahad, protect me. Vlad, rip and tear until it's done.'

My orders are executed with clockwork precision. The unknown Caster Servant is easily overcome by Georgios (turns out that, against a heavily armored, skilled, and well trained knight they can't cast spells against, most mages die like lemmings. Who knew?) and Vlad throws the enemy into disarray. Off balance, and with their leaders killed right in front of them, the army is easily finished off.

---​

"Slave." Nero's furious. To be expected, really. Still, I have to restrain a mad grin that keeps trying to crawl up on my face. For once, I'm the one who managed to completely destroy her entire plan and leave her furious. "You broke the parley."

"Yes."

"Because you doubted me." ooh, she's absolutely livid, now. Might have to organize a coup if she tries to have me executed. "Because you believed that I would lose, in my fight against Alexander."

"Yes." Hm. Better throw her off-balance a bit. Present myself as her most loyal subject. "While your various flatterers may profit from your demise, and, as a consequence, encourage your flights of fancy, I believe that Rome stands to profit from your continued status as Emperor, and as such will not permit you to endanger your life in order to satisfy your delusions of martial prowess."

She snarls at that. But, all the same, I've made her doubt her yes-men. She can't throw me away while I might be the only one still loyal to her. "Give him ten lashes of the whip, and take down his tent. Let him sleep in the kennel with the hounds. It might remind him of his rightful station."

Joke's on her. I just got out of having to do her paperwork.

I have Cursed Arm kill the Praetorians overseeing my punishment and hide the bodies after the second lash, and Boudica's nice enough to let me sleep in her tent for the night (not that she needs to sleep, anyways.)

 

[Charles Flynn]

I wake up with a start, after a particularly disturbing nightmare in which I was trapped on a deserted ship with Nero. Galahad's in the tent with me, looking at me.

"Do I have something on my face?" I ask blearily.

"Flynn." He snaps, and focus my attention on him more fully. "Why are you putting up with this? You could overthrow her at any moment. With seven of us, you could massacre this entire army and then have us lock her away. You don't have to endure this."

I pause, thinking it over. "True enough. But the enemy has an army as well, and, more importantly, they have Servants hostile to us. I we go in with a force purely comprised of Servants, they'll bog us down and have their Servants pick us off while we're stuck fighting cannon fodder. Nero's army is essential to victory. We might be able to win without it, but that victory would be far more costly. Thus, the price of keeping this army, and our raised chances of victory, is my suffering, and letting Nero think she's in charge." I pause, and then laugh. "In exchange for saving the world? I'll pay that price."

Galahad nods, and then smiles. "I see. I suppose you might be worth having as a Master, after all."

I blink as he gets up and leaves.

Seriously, what just happened?

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Right." I look around the table that I and all the Servants have set up at. "Nero has pretty much forbidden me to participate in her strategy meeting. This means that the strategy for the next battle will be entirely Nero's, and, as such, we can pretty much write off this entire legion."

Xing Ke raises her hand hesitantly. "is she really that bad? I mean, I've never actually seen her lead her own troops, so-"

"I will bet you fifty sesterces that her entire strategy is 'everybody run at them as fast as you can and hit them really hard.'" Vlad interrupts. Beside him, Boudica nods.

"So, yes, she's probably going to get every soldier in this entire army killed. That's okay, though, we were mostly keeping them around to use them as cannon fodder, and the Singularity will hopefully have been resolved once this battle is finished."

"Master, what did we say about the sanctity of human life?" Georgios says, giving me a look.

"That I shouldn't disrespect or trivialize it. I know. But these men knew what they were getting into when they signed up. They knew that they might die in the service of their home, and they took that risk willingly. Their deaths, here and now, are in the defense of their home, and of all of humanity. I think that, if they had a choice, they wouldn't mind a death like this."

"Well said, Master," Vlad says. The other Servants' doubts seem to have been alleviated as well.

"So. The real challenge is how we neutralize the enemies' Servants, and confront the Grail's Holder. Cursed Arm will be running as my observer, picking out the enemy's Servants so I can coordinate you on how to group up and kill them." Nods all around. "Nero will probably invite herself along while we storm the palace, but by that point we won't really need her. We can just knock her out and hide her somewhere, with a guard on hand in case she wakes up." That one gets some smiles.

"So. Any questions?"

 

[Charles Flynn]

"The battle's going well," I comment, staring out over the duplicate of Rome.

"Indeed." Galahad confirms. "Aside from that part where the entire goddamn legion defected the minute Romulus showed his face."

"Well, we'd already got most of the Servants by then. We didn't need the meat shields for much anymore."

"I have several issues with that tactical assessment, starting with you referring to our (now-deceased) former comrades in arms as 'the meat shields.'"

"Hey, call a spade a spade." I look out over the city again. Gaius Mucius Scaevola, Tarquin Superbus, Marcus Aurelius, Numa Pompilius, Tullius Hostilius, and Scipio Africanus. Each and every one of them was a dangerous and deadly foe, whom we only defeated mostly by dint of picking them off one at a time and ganging up on them. Now, only Romulus remains. Tullius Hostilius was seriously dicey, though. Largely because his Noble Phantasm let him summon triplets.

'Master. Nero and I have engaged Romulus and Profes-'

'Kojirou?' Shit. That's not good. I immediately begin dispatching Servants to his last known location when, six minutes after losing contact with Kojirou, I hear the roar.

"Flynn? What was that?" Galahad asks from beside me.

"The sound of me winning, of course!" Lev announces from directly behind me. We spin around to face the traitor, Galahad putting himself between me and Lev. "Relax, relax! I come not to fight, but to gloat!"

"Of course you do," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "So, care to lecture us on how you attained your inevitable victory, Professor?"

"So glad you asked!" he cheers, with a jovial grin. I suddenly realize he doesn't have the Grail on him. "So, there I was, minding my own business with my good buddy Romulus, when all of a sudden, the Emperor Nero and that Samurai guy of yours showed up! Well, the samurai guy died pretty quick, but Nero managed to kill Romulus! With some handy assistance from me shooting him in the back, of course. Then, I, ever the graceful loser, gave her the Grail, along with a warning or two about how she died and her empire went to shit! Aaaaaaaaaaand then she manifested the Beast of Revelations for some reason. Did not see that coming, let me tell you." He laughs at that. "Ah. And now you have a choice, oh Master of Chaldea. Kill her and collapse history, or let her kill you and destroy history herself! Either way, I'm glad I brought my popcorn!" At this point, Galahad loses his cool and tries to bash Lev's head in with his shield, only for the cross-shaped bludgeon to pass ineffectually through the illusion, dissipating it.

Well, shit.

'All Servants, retreat from the city! Pass on the message to all allied Servants as well! We need to revise our plans!'

 

[Charles Flynn]

We reconvene on a hill outside the city, watching the many-headed beast shamble forth from the false city of Rome, Nero on its back.

"How the fuck did we screw up this badly?" I ask nobody in particular.

"Ah! A very complicated question!" Lev says from behind me. I don't even bother turning, since this is the fifth time he sent a projection of himself to gloat. Might actually learn something from this, though, so I forestall my Servants from breaking the illusion again. "I suppose it mostly comes down to you completely ignoring Nero. It left me an opportunity to win her over to my side, once you'd managed to so thoroughly alienate her."

"What?"

"You really think that she normally beats and enslaves her military commanders for contradicting her?" he asks, before breaking down laughing. "Of course you do! You hate her! You think she's incompetent pest! And you're right, at least where military matters are concerned. But where politics are concerned, she's not half bad. And she saw somebody who was nowhere near as good at concealing his disdain for her as he thought he was constantly sidelining her, winning her generals over to his side, and increasingly usurping command of her forces. But, at the same time, she couldn't get rid of you, because your little band of Servants was carrying her forces to victory." He smiles, his affable demeanor a sharp contrast with his vicious mockery. "It was almost boring, how easy you made it to stoke her paranoia and sense of inadequacy until she would lash out at you. And then, when I gave her the Grail, it was a simple matter to persuade her that you were her enemies." He holds out a hand, and an image of me talking to Boudica appears. "Really, Charlie, I couldn't have done it without you! Thank you so much!"

I take a swing at him, making the illusion dissipate, before turning to face my Servants, who are all looking about as horrified as I feel right now.

"Guys, I'm sorry." I look down at the ground. "I fucked up."

"We all did, Master." Georgios says, laying a hand on my shoulder.

"I actually thought she wasn't all that bad," Xuanzang volunteers, earning a great number of disbelieving looks. "The ego is actually kind of endearing once you get to know her."

I snort. "Maybe." I look down at the collar. "Georgios, get this thing off me. It's time we figure out just how we're going to stop the apocalypse."