Beta read by Shigiya and Paragon of Awesomeness
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-Night Raid Hideout-
(Flashback)
From the moment this battle began, the biggest danger to the other members was not the people attacking them. Emiya figured that out the moment he saw Seryu charge at Tatsumi.
Relentless was one brief way to describe the girl; a headache worked just as well, and from the brief interaction he'd had with her, he had already formed a rough idea of what kind of person she was. Stubborn to the core, driven by a warped sense of justice, and far from reasonable. He had met people like her before, both in his life as Emiya Shirou and during his countless deployments across time and reality as a Counter Guardian. In most cases, they were ironically the very kind who ended up becoming the greatest threats to humanity, forcing intervention from someone like him.
Seryu was not capable of suddenly threatening human history or anything close to that… but she definitely shared personality traits with those who had. Her path would be set if no one stopped her. He, however, was not the kind to chase redemption for someone he barely knew. He had tried once before with Esdeath, and that had only created more problems than it solved for the Empire as a whole, and very likely beyond.
What he could do now was limit the threat she posed by removing the one weapon capable of turning her into a walking massacre — or just about any other person if she were to die. With Incursio now in the Empire's hands, he doubted any other Teigu would be effective against Hekantonkheires. Not even Pumpkin, unless Najenda were able to bullseye the core itself.
"I can't let you return to your owner," he said evenly while walking deeper into the forest, following the trail left by the arrow he had fired earlier. The shot had pierced the creature while it was in a berserk state, yet he was under no illusion that such an attack could kill it. Maybe another Caladbolg II or two would, shattering the core regardless of how protected it was… well, it was still an option. The mass of writhing flesh ahead of him was already reforming at a disturbing pace, shaping itself back into a beastly humanoid form with darkened skin, tense muscles, a monstrous face lined with rows of massively sharp teeth and dark red eyes.
It looked closer to a humanoid Danger Beast than a Teigu.
"I gave you and your master a chance back then," Emiya said, his tone cold, dispassionate. "And yet here she is, falling into the same routine. No matter how you look at it, your little master has a death wish. I also doubt Esdeath approved of this, and she does not show mercy to disobedient subordinates. So tell me, why are you really doing this?"
The creature growled, low and guttural, unable to speak human tongue yet is able to understand him. This biological Teigu was a complex organism, housing multiple abilities, each powerful enough to qualify as a Teigu on its own. In that sense, it wasn't so different from Incursio. Under the right control, it could adapt, learn, and eventually overcome. Its swift regeneration was proof enough — it had likely shifted its core the instant it detected danger from him.
That thought was confirmed when the texture of its skin subtly changed the moment he Traced a spear into his hand. The creature didn't lunge as expected but merely shifted its stance subtly; its body tense, as if analyzing him. Trying to anticipate him even.
"So you know," Emiya muttered.
If destroying the core was no longer an option, then he would simply make regeneration impossible.
"Then so be it."
At his mental command, several golden spears materialized around him, floating with quiet precision. Each one was chosen for effectiveness, designed specifically to counter this creature's unique biology. He waited while the weapons around him aimed at the creature, as the sounds of battle echoed faintly through the forest… the clash of steel, dying screams, and Leone's roar rumbling through the air.
"Hm?" he murmured when the creature didn't attack. Instead, it dropped to all fours, letting out a strange whining noise. Its eyes locked on him, trembling slightly, almost as if trying to communicate.
"▂▂▃▃▄▄▄▄▅▅▅▅!!!" Then, with a distorted cry, it howled and charged forward.
Reacting instantly, one of the spears shot through the air and pierced its chest cleanly. Yet the creature did not even try to evade. With an audible squelch, it let the weapon impale it, forcing itself onward despite the gaping wound in its torso. The injury didn't close the way it should have; instead of rapid regeneration, new flesh grew unevenly around the flesh surrounding the hole, sealing it off rather than healing it completely. Its advance slowed, its body shaking violently, but its eyes stayed fixed on him, filled not with rage as one would expect… but rather with something closer to desperation.
"Interesting way to counter an anti-regeneration effect," he muttered, genuinely impressed as he witnessed firsthand the adaptive intelligence of the weapon. It stopped less than a foot away from him, frozen mid-punch, mouth wide open, trembling but unable to move. No chains or spells held it back, yet it clearly struggled to even a single inch forward. The white-haired man hadn't fired a single shot after the first one, yet the creature's body had halted completely.
"Did she tell you not to attack me?" he asked aloud, though he dismissed the thought almost immediately. It made no sense for a zealot like her to show mercy once she'd deemed someone an enemy.
"▂▂ ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" Hekatonkheires let out another pained sound, shifting between the guttural cry of a beast and the whimper of a wounded hound. Its eyes met his, filled with conflicting emotions, and Emiya's face darkened as he finally understood what was happening.
"I didn't accept you back then," he said quietly, recalling the day Tatsumi had tried to convince the girl to change sides, only to be rejected and attacked for his efforts. He remembered facing this same beast back then, shouting for it to stop, freezing it just long enough to pull the boy out of harm's way before confronting Esdeath herself when she arrived. Back then, he hadn't formed any bond with the Teigu; he had simply issued a command, suspecting something unusual about its behavior.
"A Teigu cannot have two masters, just as one person cannot wield two Teigu. So why are you trying to break that rule when you are one yourself?" he questioned, realizing now that of everyone present, he was in the least danger. With that, he dismissed the Noble Phantasms that surrounded him.
"▅▅▅▂▂ ▂▂▃!" It cried again, its dark hide flickering between black and pale white, muscles swelling and shrinking as the struggle continued within. Two forces fought for dominance, twisting its body into spasms of pain. The man could only watch, uncertain of what to do as it tore itself apart in confusion. This was the first time he, or probably anyone, had to deal with such a scenario when it came to an enemy's Imperial Arm reacting so strangely.
"You cannot disobey orders," he noted after some hesitation, wanting that answer to be false with all his heart. The beast growled softly in acknowledgment, as though confirming his words. Emiya closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out a slow sigh. He stepped closer and lost any remaining desire to deal with what was basically a disarmed bomb.
Koro lunged again, teeth bared, but its jaws stopped a hair's breadth from his face. It stumbled back instantly, slammed its head against the ground, and thrashed, striking trees and soil alike in a fit of anguish.
"Hah…" Emiya exhaled tiredly. He was no longer a Servant, nor did he have the aid of the Counter Force or a Master with large reserves of Magical Energy. Even so, his own energy was far from insignificant, enough to last him long enough to deal with most enemies. He could still hold his own for hours if necessary, though conserving some strength was always wise. For now, his priority was the boy, and if calming this beast saved even a few minutes, then it was worth it.
"▂… ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▃▃… "
As he continued forward, the Teigu began backing away instead, its growls fading into pitiful whines. Its once menacing presence looked almost fragile now, reverting back to that toy plush-like form. Emiya stopped before it and placed a hand gently on its head.
"I've never tried this before. It might hurt," he warned. Without hesitation, he channeled a pulse of his magical energy into the creature. Veins of light spread across its body like circuits, crawling over its limbs and torso within seconds. Hekatonkheires' eyes widened. The violent trembling stopped as it looked up at him with wide black eyes that resembled those of an animal at a shelter hoping to get adopted.
"I do not accept you, that never changed nor will it ever change. Your master is still alive, for now at least. So go to sleep, little weapon." he said quietly.
At once, the Teigu's body began to shrink. The hole in its chest slowly filled with flesh, though still not completely. Its skin returned to its normal tone, the curse fading with Gae Buidhe having long since disappeared along with the weapon's effect, leaving behind the smaller, gentler version of itself, bruised and wounded not by him, but by its own violent struggle. It gave a soft bark, nuzzled his hand, and then collapsed peacefully at his feet.
"If your master hadn't been such a troublesome person," he murmured, looking down at it, "you wouldn't have been a bad companion. At least I'm glad Esdeath didn't choose you back then. I can only imagine what kind of monster you would have become had she taken hold of your leash."
Grabbing the little thing by the neck and picking it up, he had to admit that the way it weighed no heavier than an actual puppy astounded him… especially when recalling how the ground beneath his feet shook when the creature rushed at him earlier.
{Break}
(Present)
By now, nearly all of Doctor Stylish's remaining forces had been dealt with. Emiya and Lubbock took a slow walk back toward the base, quietly walking down the blood-strewn path. The former Servant of the Bow couldn't help but notice how many bodies lay scattered even this far from the main area. The sight was grim to anyone witnessing it, and this was further pushed to the extreme, given how most of them looked absolutely monstrous with Danger Beasts parts grafted on.
'An army of artificial demi-humans… that is more troublesome than dealing with even Esdeath's ice creations.'
"Damn, not a single one of them was normal," Lubbock muttered, crouching beside a fallen corpse with a conflicted look. "It feels kinda dumb to point this out, but this scene is really making my stomach churn. I knew the guy was twisted, experimenting with Danger Beasts and all, but I didn't think it'd be this bad. How are they any different from Leone when she uses her Teigu?"
"Because I look way better than any of these freaks!" came a familiar voice from the woods, followed by a pebble bouncing off Lubbock's head.
"Ouch! What the hell!?" he shouted, rubbing the spot as both he and Emiya turned to see Leone and Akame emerging from the treeline. The two were covered in blood, bruises, and scratches. He noted how Leone's Teigu still remained active, with blood-drenched claws, while Akame had sheathed her sword; giving the sign that they had finished their own battles.
"This place is going to reek for days," Leone said, grimacing as she glanced around at the scattered corpses. "With all these bodies lying around, we'll have to watch out for monsters drawn to the smell. There aren't any high class threats nearby, but the sheer number of the weak ones can still overwhelm anyone."
"More of them?" Akame asked with faint curiosity.
"Oi, don't start thinking about turning this mess into a hunting opportunity, Akame," Leone said, narrowing her eyes. The swordswoman's faint pout made both Emiya and Lubbock chuckle quietly.
"In any case," Leone continued, turning her attention back to him. "We were worried when you ran off like that. For a second, I thought someone was die on us. Looks like you were able to handle it."
"They were trying to steal one of his swords," Lubbock explained, gesturing toward him. The girls' eyes widened, a flicker of concern flashing briefly across their faces. Emiya raised a hand in a calming gesture, not wanting for them to jump to the wrong conclusion.
"My constructs can't be copied like that, and I honestly don't know what that doctor could get out of studying them," he said plainly. "I can dismiss them whenever I want. Even if someone managed to analyze one, it wouldn't help much. Understanding the composition alone will not be enough to recreate something like it, even with all the resources in the world."
Stylish was certainly a genius, no doubt. His mind worked on a level far beyond most people in this world, his inventions serving the Empire and its army, forces Emiya had crossed paths with more than once — but even a mind like that had limits. Even the creation of Teigus remained beyond Stylish's grasp, the secrets of their origin long buried with the first emperor, and the lack of certain creatures that had been hunted into extinction. Regardless, he knew it was only a matter of time before the man made progress with Teigus.
Reproducing a Noble Phantasm through technology, on the other hand, was beyond even a person like Stylish. Humanity was still centuries, if not millennia, behind in technological advancement to reach the threshold where science was no longer distinguishable from magic. The existence of Teigu itself had only been possible through fusing Super-class Danger Beasts with orichalcum. In truth, he could gift wrap one of his blades and hand it over to Stylish on a silver encrusted platter, and it still wouldn't cause him worry.
"If you say so," the blonde assassin replied, scratching her cheek. "Still, I'd rather not deal with an Empire armed with weapons like yours. Speaking of which, where's that new cute girl? I caught sight of her when the fighting began, but she vanished before I could get close. Never seen her around before."
"A girl?" Lubbock's curiosity immediately flared, his ears almost perking up at the word. "Wait, we have a new recruit? And she's a cute girl?"
"Maybe," she said with a half-smirk. "Didn't get a good look, but she's definitely pretty. You'd like her."
Another member… Emiya kept his thoughts to himself. With Bulat's situation still uncertain, they could use an extra pair of hands. "Let's just head back and—!"
His voice stopped mid-sentence. Every sense screamed at once, the world slowing around him. Even Leone's hair bristled as she froze, eyes snapping toward the bodies scattered nearby. A strange noise echoed across the field, faint at first, then growing louder as the air itself seemed to grow colder by the second. The corpses began to twitch. Faint cracks spread across swollen limbs as an orange glow pulsed beneath the skin.
"Look out!" she yelled before he could, already moving. She wrapped her arms around Akame and leapt back just as the ground erupted in light.
"Ah!" Lubbock cried out, his body unable to react in time to raise any sort of defence. The ground beneath him blazed with orange light, and the next instant, he felt himself being hurled backward by sheer force as someone pulled on his collar hard enough to throw his entire body backward in the same direction as the two women. His wires shot out instinctively, Cross Tail wrapping around both girls and pulling them closer, forming a cocoon of steel threads with several more extending towards the white-haired man to protect him as well.
Woosh!
But the younger man was too far away. Lubbock's last glimpse of him was through the haze of burning light, standing alone as explosions consumed everything. The blast swallowed the clearing and the forest beyond, followed by an ear-splitting string of booms that tore through the night sky. They even pushed his Teigu away before they could reach Emiya and protect him.
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(A few moments earlier)
Bam!
A sharp white light streaked across the night sky, splitting into several smaller rays that each struck their targets with clean, precise impacts. Pumpkin had never failed Najenda before, and she had no reason to believe it would tonight. Even against someone like Esdeath, she trusted that her shot would prove lethal if she could only get through that woman's absurd defense and speed.
"That should be most of them," Night Raid's leader muttered, taking a slow puff from her cigarette. Smoke curled from her lips as she watched the faint glow of destruction in the distance. Her face carried a small trace of satisfaction, both at the success of the strike and the rare chance to test her aim in live combat again. The last thing she wanted right now was for her skills to start deteriorating.
"That's not fair. Something's seriously wrong with both of you. Does ridiculous accuracy just run in the family?" Mine grumbled beside her, cheeks puffed in irritation. The twintail-haired girl had seen the aftermath through her own eyes while releasing another arrow with L'Arc Qui Ne Faut, trying to match Najenda's aim ever since the battle began… but without knowing her target's name, this weapon became no different from a well-crafted but ordinary bow.
"Who knows? We're not even blood-related. But if you want to test that theory, feel free to marry him and see how your kids turn out," Najenda replied flatly, her tone dry enough to make Mine choke on her own words and start gagging the very next second with a face full of disgust.
"Ew! That image nearly made me throw up on the spot!"
"Are you calling my little brother undesirable?"
"He's not the kind of guy I'd ever marry, thank you very much. He's practically the complete opposite of what I'd want in a husband," Mine snapped.
The silver-haired leader rolled her eyes. If this girl's idea of an ideal husband meant being treated like royalty while the poor fool catered to her every whim, then yes, her brother would be the opposite of what she'd want for a husband; for while Najenda knew he was willing to pamper a lady, her and Esdeath being prime examples of his doting, he also expected her to get off her ass and actually do stuff. In her opinion, Mine's so-called requirements were simply absurd. She still remembered Mine drunkenly listing them to Akame weeks ago.
"Also, should you even be smoking right now? Didn't you tell him you'd quit? Guess I'll have to report this little relapse."
"Who the hell's the boss here?" Najenda shot back, frowning at the mischievous tone. She had even gone out of her way to bring extra mints and perfume to hide the tobacco smell, yet now Mine was threatening to tattle on her like the little shit that she was.
"Well, you may be our leader and his big sister, but he's the one cooking the food. That puts him at a higher rank than you in my book. Akame would agree with me if we were to ask, and you know it," Mine teased, crossing her arms smugly.
"Tch, my most trusted subordinates are turning into traitors," she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair.
"It's your fault you can't grill a simple fish without charring it to a crisp, and then somehow expect us to ignore a guy who can cook better than all of us combined!"
"Since when does the boss do the cooking!? Excuse me for not being a domestic housewife! I usually had my little brother to fill the role!"
The exchange went back and forth between the two of them and stopped shooting for a small while. With no enemies left standing, a bit of banter was the most natural thing to follow. Najenda didn't mind it; in truth, she enjoyed these moments. To outsiders, Mine might look like a spoiled, loudmouthed girl, but she knew that the young assassin would throw herself into danger in a heartbeat if it meant protecting her comrades. She had proven that more than once.
"I doubt that any more of them will be coming out," the pink-haired girl said eventually, slinging her bow back onto her shoulder. "We've killed enough of them to at least make up a mid-sized battalion. You should go check on Sheele and Tatsumi. Last I heard, they were up against that crazy woman before Emiya stepped in to take care of that terrifying dog thing."
Najenda nodded, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette away. The ember hissed faintly as it neared the small stream below. She exhaled and let the tension ease from her shoulders. Tonight's attack had been exhausting and out of nowhere, and the strangest thing was that her instincts as a general told her that Honest wasn't even the one behind it.
Bulat was still recovering, and she hadn't so much as had time to properly introduce the team's newest recruit to everyone. Hopefully, none of the others had mistaken her for an enemy in the chaos and accidentally killed her. The thought crossed her mind briefly before she dismissed it. Her subordinates had their moments of carelessness, but they weren't fools… and if that newcomer couldn't survive the field, then she wasn't meant for Night Raid.
"Alright then, let's go check on them," she said finally, brushing off her coat. She watched the cigarette butt land softly in the stream, carried away by the gentle current.
Just as the glowing tip vanished beneath the surface, a sudden flash of light erupted in the distance. Both women froze, their faces illuminated by the brilliant flare.
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅!!!
A dome of fire bloomed deep within the forest, followed by several smaller explosions that tore through the trees in rapid succession.
"Ah!" Najenda barely had time to react before the shockwave slammed into her like a solid wall. "Hgh!" She was thrown backward, her boots skidding against the dirt until she caught hold of a wooden post to stop herself from being hurled further.
"Ngh!" she grunted, shielding her face as debris rained down, splintered branches, chunks of bark, and sharp stone fragments whipping past in every direction. The ground trembled violently beneath her feet, a small quake spreading through the terrain as more blasts rippled across the dark forest.
She barely saw anything anymore, her eardrums rang, and the skin on her face was peeling from the heat. What felt like an eternity passed before the explosion finally died down, leaving the world eerily quiet. With a dull thud, she dropped to her knees, gasping for air. Blood mixed with dust and ash streamed down her body, though her leather armor had taken the brunt of the damage and spared her from deeper wounds.
"Cough! Cough! M-Mine!" she shouted between ragged coughs, looking around for the pink-haired assassin who had been beside her moments ago. "MINE!" she called again, trying to push herself up, only to fall back down with a pained groan escaping her lips.
"He-here…" came a weak reply.
Relief washed over Najenda as she turned toward the sound. Following the faint voice to a pile of rubble nearby, she froze at the sight before her. Mine was half-buried beneath a fallen tree, one leg pinned and twisted unnaturally. The injury was bad, with a piece of bone sticking out, and blood pooling around the break.
"Don't move!" she barked, rushing over and grabbing hold of the nearest trunk, using every ounce of strength she could muster to shift it aside just enough for Mine to pull her leg free.
The girl's scream tore through the silence.
"It hurts! It hurts so much!" Mine whimpered, her voice trembling as she bit back tears. Her face was pale, streaked with grime and sweat.
"Don't move," Najenda said again, ripping off a strip of her own clothing to wrap tightly around the wound, tying it into a makeshift tourniquet. She worked quickly, her hands steady despite the blood slicking her fingers.
"Is it bad?" Mine asked, her voice small.
Bad? From a single glance, it looked worse for wear and potentially lethal if they didn't close the wound. She hoped no major vein ended up getting cut, or else cauterizing the wound on the field would become the only solution. Still, she shook her head firmly after checking for another minute, with the blood flow finally slowing down the more pressure she applied. "It's bad, but not beyond fixing. Any decent doctor will be able to mend it. You'll just need time and rest, maybe a few months of recovery as the bone resets."
"Th-Thank God," Mine muttered with a faint, shaky smile. "A-As long as I don't l-lose it…"
Her words slurred slightly, and Najenda noticed her eyelids fluttering, her pulse slowing. Even if no major vein was touched, still, too much blood had been lost already. Without wasting time, she lifted the girl into her arms and carried her toward the nearest clear patch of ground, setting her down near the base's entrance. She brushed away the dirt from Mine's face before speaking again.
"Stay here. I'll bring the others."
"I won't die from a leg wound," Mine said weakly, forcing a grin.
"Good. Your artery's still intact, so you won't bleed out as long as that tourniquet stays tight. Don't loosen it, no matter how much it hurts. And stay awake."
Mine gave a faint nod, barely conscious. Najenda hesitated for a moment, wanting to stay by her side, but with the rest of the team's status uncertain, she had no choice. Gritting her teeth, she turned away, her heart pounding with unease as she sprinted back into the ruined courtyard.
"Leone! Akame! Emiya! Lubbock!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the smoke-filled air as she raised Pumpkin, ready to fire at any remaining enemies that dared to move.
"That madman!" she shouted, her voice breaking through the chaos. She had always known Stylish was eccentric, a scientist with a twisted sense of brilliance, but to think he had gone so far as to rig a bomb into every single one of his subordinates? Never had she imagined such a level of madness.
"Is anyone there?!" Her voice echoed through the smoke-filled ruins, but no answer came. The silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating, feeding her fear until it gnawed at her composure. Her throat began to sting, each call scraping her voice raw as she ran across what remained of the burning forest. The lush greenery that had stood tall hours ago was now reduced to ash and ember.
"Answer me, please!" she cried again, her words trembling as memories of another day clawed at her mind.
Her escape from the Empire. The day she thought she had nearly lost everything. Only now, the dread felt worse, the fear deeper. She was terrified of losing not just her only remaining family, but everyone who had trusted her to lead them.
"Tatsumi! Sheele! Chelsea!" she called, her desperation only growing. Even the thought of the newest recruit, who had barely spent a single day with them, being dead filled her with guilt. She had just accepted her into the team's ranks, and now she might already be dead.
"Eh?" Her voice caught when a faint metallic sound reached her ears. A twang, sharp and clear. Her head snapped toward the noise, eyes narrowing to catch a faint glimmer of silver deep within the rubble. "Guys!" she shouted, hope surging through her chest. She broke into a sprint, ignoring the flames licking at her boots and the acrid smoke filling her lungs. Pushing through heaps of ash and charred remains, her heart pounding until she stumbled upon something unexpected — not a person, but a massive metallic sphere.
"Lubbock?" muttered the woman in disbelief, hesitating as she studied the strange object. It looked like a ball of interwoven silver threads, shining faintly through soot and heat. "Ah!"
Her hand reached forward but jerked back instantly with a cry of pain as the surface scorched her palm. The heat still radiated strongly enough to burn through her glove.
"It's me! Can you hear me?!" she yelled, forcing herself closer despite the searing air. If no response came, she was ready to break the thing open herself before whoever was inside got cooked alive.
But she didn't have to. The threads began to stir, twitching and unraveling before her eyes. Slowly, the web of silver loosened, collapsing inward until the sphere broke apart completely.
Three figures tumbled free, slumping onto the blackened ground. "Akame! Lubbock! Leone!" she cried, rushing forward. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw them breathing. Both the blonde and the black-haired assassin were conscious, their clothes singed and their arms marked with burns, but alive nonetheless. Lubbock, however, lay still. His eyes were closed, his face pale beneath the soot.
"Damn it!" she muttered, grabbing him and pulling him into her arms. She brought her ear closer to his mouth and her fingers to his neck. For a tense moment, nothing. Then she felt it, the faint rhythm of his heartbeat, the weak warmth of breath against her skin. Relief surged through her in a single shuddering exhale.
"Hah…" He was alive. That was all that mattered. All three of them were.
"W-We survived?" Akame's quiet voice broke the moment, her crimson eyes scanning the desolation around them with confusion. Most likely having a hard time understanding how they even emerged mostly unscathed from such an enormous, devastating detonation.
"Ah!" The black-haired assassin groaned as she forced herself up, using her sword for balance. Her body trembled from exhaustion, but like the others, she was still alive, spared from any fatal injuries.
"The others… I haven't found Tatsumi and Sheele yet. But where is Emiya?" Najenda inquired, scanning the ruined field for any signs of her adoptive brother.
"He… he, um… earlier he was with us and Akame before heading out som—"
"That guy," she muttered while cutting off Leone, almost to herself. "Normally, I'd scold him for chasing after enemies that are too far off the base. Thankfully, his ridiculous luck saved his hide this time." She had seen him dart off before the explosion consumed the area. The blast had scorched a vast portion of the battlefield, but not all of it. If her guess was right, he had escaped by the narrowest margin.
"Boss…" Leone's face turned somber, followed by a weak voice. Akame stood nearby, her expression heavy with sorrow, as if she had read Leone's thoughts before she even spoke.
"He… came back with Lubbock later and was here with us," Akame said, her voice so faint it was nearly lost in the crackle of distant flames. But to Najenda, it sounded deafening.
Her body froze, disbelief locking her in place.
"What did you say?" she demanded quietly.
"He was the one who protected Lubbock right before the explosion," Akame continued. Her hand gripped her katana tighter. "I'm sorry."
"No. No, no, no," Najenda muttered, shaking her head. The words hit like stones in her chest, impossible to accept. Her breath quickened, anger and despair wrestling inside her.
"It's my fault… if only I'd trusted my instincts, noticed the bombs sooner, then—"
"Shut up!" Her fist slammed into the ground, the impact echoing through the silence. "I will not listen to any more of this nonsense! He must still be here! As long as there's no physical body, you don't get to say he's dead!"
As a soldier, a general, and then an assassin, she was trained to stay composed no matter the circumstance. It was a lesson that had been drilled into every member of Night Raid, herself most of all, by every single battle and loss they experienced. But now that same rule mocked her. Her composure was cracking, her rational mind was barely holding together as emotions threatened to take control.
"Search the field!" she barked, forcing her tone steady. "He has to be here! If you can still walk, then keep looking! Even if it's a piece of his clothes, his armor, anything, until I see proof, he's still alive! This also applies to every other member!" Her fists clenched so tight her nails cut into her palms, blood mixing with the ash that clung to her skin. A wave of nausea rose, but she swallowed it down. There was no time for weakness. "We do it now. Mine still needs treatment, and we have no idea where the others are."
"…Yes. Until there's proof, no one is to be declared dead," Akame said firmly.
Leone met her gaze. A silent understanding passed between them before both nodded.
"Alright," Leone said, trying to sound confident. "Tatsumi already survived that insane bitch with the dog once before, and the ice bitch too. There's no way he would let a damn explosion do him in. Same for Sheele. She's tougher than that. And I bet the new girl wasn't even in range." Her words were meant to reassure, though even she could hear the uncertainty beneath them. Akame didn't comment.
Lubbock was carried back to the castle, placed beside Mine, who had regained a little strength after treating her wounds with a salve of crushed berries, mild numbing poisons, and herbal extracts stocked nearby. Once she stabilized, the three women returned to the burned fields. The air was thick with smoke, small bits of flame still feeding on what little remained.
The ground was blackened for hundreds of meters in every direction, and the stench of char flesh and smoke was everywhere. Najenda cursed Stylish under her breath; these were no ordinary bombs. The explosives had been crafted not only to destroy but to burn, to erase every trace of what it touched. The longer she searched, the heavier her chest felt. They moved through piles of scorched remains, shattered rocks, and splintered trees, eyes scanning for any sign of life.
Then a shout broke the grim silence. "E-Emiya!?"
Leone's voice.
Her heart skipped. She sprinted toward the sound, her boots splashing through shallow puddles of mud and ash. The terrain dipped into a steep slope, leading down toward what had once been a riverbed. Now it was nothing but a crater carved deep into the earth, one of many left by the detonations.
"Did you find him? Where is he?" Akame called, her voice rising with a mix of dread and hope as she stumbled down the hill. "Emi…ya?"
Kcht…
At first, there was hope… hope that she had finally found her brother breathing and alive. Perhaps in a critical state, but as long as he could still draw breath, she believed the Revolutionary Army's doctors would be able to pull him back from death itself. Yet as soon as she and Akame reached the scene, both women, along with Leone, stood frozen in disbelief.
Krrriiingk
It wasn't her worst fear that came true. Not the charred skeleton of a family member she once feared she had lost. Nor was it confusion, the faint thought that Leone had mistaken someone else for him, perhaps Tatsumi, Sheele, or even Chelsea.
Shrreeeek!
What stood before them was something that neither horror nor confusion could fully explain. A distorted sound filled the air, metal grinding against metal, a high-pitched chorus of grinding steel echoing amid roaring flames. The faint scent of iron clung to the air, nearly drowned by the choking reek of ash.
Skkrrrkkk!
Before them was no corpse, no burnt survivor clinging to life. What they found was something beyond human recognition.
"S-swords?" The word trembled out of Leone's mouth next to her, as Najenda's eyes widened in disbelief. A body clad in the faint remnants of familiar black and red armor lay slumped against a shattered boulder. From countless places on its frame, sharp metallic fragments jutted outward, piercing everything nearby. The limbs, what was left of them, were impaled by writhing blades, moving almost like serpents. They multiplied before her eyes, slithering and twisting, as though alive.
It was only when she looked closer that she realized they weren't shards, but blades, just like what Leone mentioned… swords of every shape and size. Not a dozen. Not a hundred. Thousands. Each was no larger than a very small dagger or even a toothpick, emerging in mass quantities from his shoulders, arms, and even chest. They intertwined grotesquely, piercing torn flesh and shredded muscle to hold a ruined body together in a crude imitation of sealing the wounds.
More blades sprouted from his legs, a few on his lower face, and head… his hair and skin were dyed crimson from the ceaseless flow of blood.
The woman could barely comprehend whether what she was seeing was still a man or an artificial monster given human form. The figure before her was something else entirely, a broken body made of blades, alive through sheer miracle. The air around him carried an ominous hum, the swords twitching with eerie movement that made her very skin crawl. Every time a limb shifted, the blades pulled, sewing him back together while creating more wounds in the process. There was no real healing, only pain in her eyes.
The faint clink of metal came each time his chest rose and fell. His breathing was faint, shallow, barely audible under the sound of steel shifting. A single gray eye stared back at them, lifeless yet aware of their presence. It glimmered faintly before his lips curved into something resembling a smile, a weak expression of relief, acceptance, and peace.
"Y̵̵̵o̵̸̸u̶̸̴'̷̶̸r̶̶̴e̴̵̸ ̴̸̴a̶̶̵l̸̸̵i̶̸̶v̸̶̶e̶̸̵,̸̵̴ ̷̴̷g̶̸̶o̸̶̵o̵̴̷d̷̶̵.̷̸̶.̸̶̸.."
Words escaped his mouth, broken and distorted. They sounded as though his throat had been pierced, his voice a mix of bloody, gargled breath and grinding metal. Yet somehow, she understood him. She understood that he was glad to see them alive, that he felt no fear or sorrow for himself — only quiet contentment in their safety.
"EMIYA!!!"
Her scream tore through the burning wasteland, echoing across the ruin-strewn ground, carrying shock and horror.
{Break}
-Imperial Capital-
(Two days later)
"They still haven't returned."
Within the Capital, at the Jaegers' headquarters, Wave sat near the fireplace, staring out the window as the rising sun marked the second day since Doctor Stylish and Seryu were last seen. Their sudden disappearance had left the entire group uneasy. Tension hung heavy in the air; even for someone as patient as Wave, it was clear that the mood within their ranks had soured.
"Do you think he's actually planning to desert his post and ignore the general?" he asked the blond man beside him, who sat with his usual calm demeanor. The third individual nearby, with his face hidden behind a mask, quietly sipped his tea through the breathing filter for his mask, the faint steam drifting upward.
Both Run and Bols were men Wave had grown rather close to, much to his own surprise. Kurome, however, had been feeling ill lately, and he hadn't seen much of her since the last meeting.
"That would be terribly foolish on his part," Run said with his usual composed tone. "And I doubt he's unaware of how grave a mistake that would be if he truly meant to do so. Especially after his last discipline session that General Esdeath gave him for disobeying her orders. And I can't imagine he doesn't know about what she did to that fool Enshin."
Wave nodded. "Yeah, that woman is just plain terrifying. I can't imagine how anyone could even think of betraying her and expect to get out alive, let alone with all their bits and pieces still attached." He frowned slightly. "Still, I've got a bad feeling about all this. Especially with Seryu spending so much time around that guy. She's a good person, but that scientist's got more than a few screws loose if you ask me."
He spoke without hesitation between the two, something that had become more common lately. Around Run, Bols, and Kurome, he didn't feel the need to hold his tongue. Most of the time, they shared the same thoughts anyway, and in Kurome's case, she usually just didn't care. The rest of the group, however, was another story entirely. He could barely keep himself from grimacing whenever he was near Champ, and Cosmina or Dorothea weren't much better. The constant flirting and strange remarks from both women made his stomach twist, his skin prickle, and his palms sweat. Compared to them, Seryu seemed almost like a saint, and Kurome… well, Kurome was Kurome.
"I think she just sees him as a father figure, or something close to that," Bols said in his calm, muffled voice. "After losing Captain Ogre, she must be trying to fill that void. From what I remember, Doctor Stylish and the late captain were close business associates, and Seryu looked to them both as role models."
Wave considered that and gave a slow nod. It made sense, though the uneasy feeling in his stomach still lingered. "Maybe so, but I still don't like it," he muttered.
"Still, why are you so worried about her lately?" Run asked, genuinely curious.
"I just don't want more of the original Jaegers disappearing," he admitted. "If those two end up gone, then Wild Hunt will start dominating the group even more. I know our work isn't glamorous, and we're forced to make difficult choices, but it'd be easier to deal with all that if those lunatics weren't hanging around doing whatever they pleased whenever the general's not here to put them in their place."
"I agree," came a voice that made both Wave and Run glance up. The most reserved member among them had spoken.
"You do?" Run asked, slightly surprised.
The masked man tilted his head. "Do you find my answer that surprising?"
"No, it's just that you rarely say what you actually think. You're always quiet and, well… you know, reserved." Wave replied.
"I have my reasons," Bols said, his tone low but steady. "I had my reservations about these people before they joined us. But I'd be arrogant to think I'm any better than them, considering the things I've done myself. My morals may differ from theirs, but my hands are no cleaner — so I don't see any point in pointing fingers. That would be the height of hypocrisy. Still, as a human, as a soldier, and as a father, I have my own concerns about them, selfish as they are."
Wave hadn't expected such a thoughtful, almost philosophical response from him. Given his appearance, one might think of him as a brute or a machine, but his words often carried weight and a quiet kindness. If Seryu could be called an angel by appearance, then Bols was an angel from within—one that wore a mask to hide his self-perceived ugliness from the very world he fought to protect. People might fear him, but his family loved him deeply, and his child adored him. Wave understood that peace and, in truth, envied it.
He wished that one day he could have something similar, a family to come home to.
"That makes three of us," Run said, folding his arms. "But unfortunately, that isn't enough to change General Esdeath's mind. Wave is right, though. If keeping our numbers steady is the best way to prevent Wild Hunt from taking over, then that's what we'll do. Let's go find the doctor."
It took Wave a few seconds to process that. "Wait… seriously?" he asked, blinking in surprise. Run, of all people, was the one suggesting it.
"But of course," said the blond with a smile. "At the end of the day, I am the Jaegers' vice leader, and it is literally my job to look after each member of the group. Since Stylish himself has not been present, along with Seryu, I am taking it upon myself to investigate under the pretense that their continued absence is noteworthy enough to draw some concern and to have us pay them a visit and see how we can help."
"That's great!" Wave punched the air with excitement, glad to do something other than sit around and stew in his frustration. "Alright then, let's go pay the doctor a visit. All three of us. Come on, I'm ready," he said, hurriedly following after their second-in-command. Bols remained inside, still sipping his tea and wearing an expression that mixed confusion and curiosity.
"Wait, three?" He repeated, pointing at himself to confirm.
.
.
.
After quickly taking the lead past Run, Wave soon realized he did not actually know where the doctor's lab was located. He stopped midwalk and tried to recall the direction.
"You don't know where the lab is," Run said, seeing right through him. The blue-haired former marine chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.
"Hehehe, I kind of got excited there," he admitted as he slowed his pace until the others caught up. "Speaking of which, er… should we maybe tell the general before going? I don't think what we are doing goes against her orders, but still, I feel like we should at least let her know."
The thought of telling the general had given Wave a small jolt, a nervous tick he could not entirely hide. He did not expect she would mind a welfare visit to Doctor Stylish, especially when their goal was simply to make sure he was alright, but that uncertainty nagged at him like an annoying itch.
"There is no need to worry about the small details," the blond replied. "I already sent a message to the general."
"You did? That's surprising," Wave said after a moment of thought, then shrugged. "Well, as long as she hasn't given us specific orders not to check up on the others, I don't think she would mind this one even if we hadn't let her know."
"Let's hope so. At the very least, we would not want to have our jaws shattered into thousands of pieces of ice as an example," Bols added lightly as he raced to catch up, and the trio shuddered at the bleak image. The thought slipped into their minds and trailed them as they continued toward the lab in silence.
Wave noticed that as they moved, the landscape changed. The closer they got to the doctor's place, the further they moved from the palace. Buildings thinned out, streets narrowed, and the ornate stone gave way to makeshift walls and ramshackle roofs.
They were heading into the slums.
"Did he change locations? We are getting further and further from the central area," he said. "Having his lab this far from headquarters to be in a place like this feels really odd."
Even after the fight here between the general and Night Raid, much of the area had been rebuilt quickly. Or at least what passed as 'rebuilt' in the slums. Most of the structures were patched together with low-quality materials, badly cut or scavenged stones, and dirty rags, but the speed and the care with which the residents had restored their homes surprised him. It was impressive in a rough, practical way.
"From what I understand, he wanted somewhere quieter where he would not be disturbed and could focus on his projects," the blond mentioned after humming for a second.
"I guess that makes sense," Wave replied, though the idea still felt uncomfortable to him. Being this far from the main area meant less supervision, and with someone like Doctor Stylish — with his odd temper and private work — that could easily be a double-edged sword.
The blue-haired man pushed the worry down and followed the group as they came upon a shabby dirt house whose appearance almost made him laugh in disbelief.
"That can't be his lab, are you kidding me?" he blurted.
"Well, this is the address," Run said, double-checking the note he held. He opened the door, and the inside revealed a mostly empty space, strewn with cobwebs and abandoned building materials. The air smelled faintly of dust and old smoke. They stood in the small, dim room, then one detail snapped into focus.
A set of stairs led underground.
"Seems even the good doctor can't resist following at least one mad scientist cliché," Bols observed, and the others glanced at one another with a mixture of amusement.
They headed down the stairs. At first, the tunnel felt cramped and raw, the walls of packed earth flecked with roots. Then, as they continued, signs of deliberate work appeared. Metal plates began to line the walls. The floor likewise turned to metal. Lighting fixtures came into view, neatly installed along the roof and in the corners of the passage. The transformation from shabby house entry to organized subterranean corridor was a stark contrast.
"Kind of a lot of trouble to go through just to have a secret lair that everyone in the Jaegers could find because of a posted note he left in his seat," Wave muttered. He ran a hand over his face and tried to picture the doctor's reasoning. The hidden entrance, the careful metalwork, the lighting, everything suggested a man who wanted quiet and order.
The tunnel light softened as they continued, casting elongated shadows that fell behind them. Every step lightly echoed the faint impact of their boots on the metal floor. Dust motes hung in the air, turning the light into thin columns. Wave found himself listening more closely, picking up the distant hum of equipment and the occasional metallic creak that told him the lab waiting for them was way more than a handful of workbenches and specimen jars.
"According to what I was told earlier, he just wanted someplace with peace and quiet where he could focus on his project. Nothing more," offered Run.
The former marine still felt uncertain about being so far from the palace, but much of him insisted that the logic held. A man who worked with delicate equipment and complicated experiments would prefer a place where interruptions would be minimal and the noise of the city was muted out.
They slowed their pace as the corridor widened, the next chamber opening into a lower area with more lights and equipment visible ahead. The farther they descended, the clearer the sense became that Doctor Stylish had gone to considerable effort to separate his work from the world above. The lab was hidden, certainly, but it felt purposeful rather than secretive in a hostile way. It was the quiet of someone who wanted to be left alone to his thoughts and his tools.
Wave took a breath and let the unease settle, having come this far… they would find Stylish, check how he was doing, and then head back and report their findings to the general if it came to that. That was the plan, simple and plain. To any outsiders, it was nothing dramatic, nothing grand, just a small errand done for a colleague they respected enough to worry about.
Wave had to remind himself once again why this man had earned such an eccentric reputation. What startled him even more was the complete lack of security within the building. The displays stood unguarded, doors to the inner sections left wide open without a single sentry posted.
Even the front door to the house that was the entrance to this place hadn't so much as a locked door.
"Urgh!" His initial curiosity quickly shifted to alarm when a faint, metallic scent of iron and putrid decay drifted through the air. The stench made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Something was terribly wrong.
"Run…" Bols whispered their comrade's name, his instincts sharpening as his body grew tense. Wave and Run followed his gaze toward the corridor that led deeper inside, the source of the smell becoming clearer with every step they took. As they advanced, the sight that met them nearly made Wave retch.
"What the hell is going on here!?" he shouted, covering his mouth and nose. The room ahead stretched vast and hollow, littered with dozens of lifeless bodies. Most were already decomposing, maggots and flies crawling across their skin. Limbs, torsos, and heads were scattered carelessly across the floor. The stench of sulphur and ammonia clung to the air, making it almost painful to breathe. Even the carcasses of several Danger Beasts were tossed among the human remains, their bones mixed with the bodies, a horrid amalgamation of man and beast.
"What is that madman doing!? These look like ordinary civilians!" Wave's voice shook with fury. While the faces were unrecognizable, their tattered clothing was unmistakable.
Commonwear from the city slums. Among the dead were people of all ages; elders, workers, and even children barely tall enough to reach his waist.
The sight filled all three men with rage beyond words.
"Wave!" Run called out, trying to hold him back, but it was too late. The young soldier ignored him, marching forward and kicking the final door open with a loud crash.
"Stylish! Seryu! What the fuck is this!? Get out here and explain yourselves now!" Wave's thundered across the room, his face flushed red with anger and disbelief. He could not accept that the man he had once thought better than the Wild Hunt had sunk to this level. The thought that Seryu might also be involved or forced to partake in this madness made his stomach twist.
"Oh, more guests?" The calm voice echoed from within the dimly lit laboratory. The scene inside was worse than anything they had seen before. Vein-like patterns crept across the walls and furniture, pulsing faintly as if alive. The air was thick, foul, and heavy enough to choke on.
"Forgive my rudeness," came Stylish's voice, unbothered and composed. "I'm afraid I cannot serve any of you tea today. Dorothea hasn't come by to help for quite some time."
At the center of the room, Doctor Stylish's spotless white lab coat stood out sharply against the grim surroundings. His back was turned to them, attention fixed on a cylindrical glass tube filled with a murky red liquid. Within it, something almost unidentifiable floated.
"Is that… a sword?" Bols murmured. But as they looked closer, it became clear it was not a weapon at all. None like they'd ever seen, at least. Red flesh, the same kind that covered the walls, was fused around it, giving the object a grotesque, pulsating shape. It was shaped like a sword, but definitely not actually a sword…
It was far too disgusting.
"What have you done to these people, Stylish?" Run's tone grew colder, each word clipped and deliberate. "And where is Seryu?"
"This?" Stylish tilted his head slightly, his voice casual. "I'm embarrassed to admit I've been so wrapped up in my research I haven't had any time to clean up after myself. Without any subordinates, such chores are simply too tedious and grimy for my elegant fingers. But this place was always temporary, so it hardly matters. Besides, with the kind of breakthroughs I've been making, what does a little mess even matter? As for dear Seryu, who can say? She's an adult, fully capable of making her own choices."
Wave felt his jaw clench. The dismissive tone only fueled his anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the fleshy veins inching closer along the floor. Under the flickering light of the lab, it was hard to tell if it was movement or just his imagination.
"You know that's not what we mean!" he snapped. "What have you done to these people!?"
"Oh, those?" Stylish finally turned for the first time, allowing them to see his pale face along with a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Failed experiments. But they served their purpose. You see boys, a few days ago, I made a rather exciting discovery, or perhaps, more accurately, confirmed a long-held theory of mine. Danger Beasts, particularly the super classes, hold the true key to what lies beyond ordinary Teigu. They are born with power embedded directly into their very flesh that remains even long after the creatures themselves are killed and harvested, while we humans were left to battle nature with nothing but wit and will. Still, we became the dominant species. That much cannot be denied. Yet, it is clear our own design remains woefully incomplete. And so, it falls upon geniuses like myself to correct nature's mistakes."
Run's eyes narrowed. "You still didn't answer."
Stylish wriggled his finger, "Tut, tut, young man. It is not at all stylish to cut someone off while they are explaining — frankly you're making yourself look less cute by the minute. When one refuses to hear the answer being offered, you only prove yourself impatient. You see, the answer to strength beyond our understanding does not lie in turning monsters into weapons. We only limit their potential when we treat them like forged metal and brittle parts. I am proposing another way. A superior way. Flesh that can survive, adapt, and recover is a far better vessel. Not caged metal, but bodies that continue to develop beyond what they were born as. I tested this many times with several subjects. My first mistake was believing any Danger Beast would do. They, like us, are often born inferior. It had to be a super-class Danger Beast from the start, and we both needed a binder to keep us connected."
The longer he spoke, the less sense his words made to Wave's ears. Even as he continued, the crazy doctor offered no clear answer about where Seryu had gone. The young man tightened his grip on the handle of his Imperial Arm. The two others nearby mirrored the motion, fingers closing the same way on their own weapons.
"You can continue your explanation after you come with us to see the general," whispered their second in command, stepping forward. His tone left no room for argument. "You have gone too far with whatever experiments you are running by using helpless Imperial citizens without authorization."
"Helpless citizens?" Stylish tilted his head at the word and, for the first time, allowed something like amusement to show on his face. He turned his gaze toward them, and Wave immediately noticed his pupils, red and bright against the dark of his irises that seemed to glow in the darkness.
"That is rather rude," the scientist continued. "All of those people were offered a choice. I promised them a life better than the scraps they had. They would not have to worry about where their next meal came from or where they would sleep at night. No more catching stray sickness with no money for treatment. I promised shelter when they had none, and I delivered. Now they need not fear the daily grind of basic survival."
He paused, as if to mark the weight of his next sentence. "Several did not survive. That is the kind of sacrifice I accept for the sake of progress. You cannot make an omelet without cracking a few eggs."
"Are you even hearing yourself?" Wave's voice rose a fraction. "The general will not accept you doing this behind her back! You've crossed a line here!"
He understood Esdeath to some degree, knew full well that she could be cruel and indifferent. But she also took her title seriously, not allowing any one of her subordinates to become this uncontrollable within the Capital unless his test subjects were the enemies themselves. That was the impression she gave anyone who observed her style of command.
Stylish's laughter began low and then spilled outward, losing any attempt at control. "The general? You mean Esdeath? Why should I care whether she consents to my experiments? A delusional barbarian who only lives for the thrill of battle, blind to my genius like so many others. People fear her because of a gift she received from the Prime Minister. Remove that, and she is no different from a street urchin with a pointy metal stick who will die on some nameless battlefield someday. Those with strength are respected and feared, elevated because of a single aspect. People like me on the other hand strive to push humanity beyond its limits and are treated as replaceable tools! That nonsense ends today!"
With a single wave of the doctor's hand, several squelching noises came from every direction in the laboratory. From all around them, the three men were faced with the sight of several creatures walking into the light. Their appearances left the trio utterly speechless.
"What have you done…" Bols muttered with horror as what revealed themselves were creatures that were clearly once human. Walking on two legs and with hollowed faces, some bore Danger Beast parts, but the most defining trait about them was that of several weapons grafted into their flesh.
Some were fused with their hands, and a few had the body practically coil itself around them as if to serve as a replacement for their spine. The swords themselves looked like they were made of bone and flesh, with similar vein-like patterns to the one in the tube next to Stylish growing all around them.
"Those are failures. My first attempts to fuse man, Shingu prototypes, and Danger Beasts all into a single, superior being. I used the weapon as a kind of core to add several adjustments I couldn't make with my previous creations, since they would just die or turn into a mountain of flesh that couldn't even move. Thankfully, with this bunch I was able to at least trade human consciousness for more power. My old creations had their own minds, yet still proved useless, dying to Night Raid's assassins even with all of the enhancements I so generously gave them." Stylish went ahead to let the sword within the tube rest within his hold, turning around to show several growths on both of his arms—having completely fused with Perfector.
"That thing is alive…" Run commented, making both of the other Jaegers at his side stare at the weapon in Stylish's hand and notice what appeared to be several eyes opening on its hilt, but also across the rest of Stylish's body. All of which looked different to one another, with Wave recognising a handful of them as belonging to different species of Danger Beasts, while he had no idea whatsoever what the rest were from.
"It's good that you three came here today. I was actually wanting to expand my collection of weapons before I face our dear general. Having three actual Teigus under my control is not an opportunity that can be missed. Such a shame that Kurome was not present; her Yatsufusa would have been especially handy." He smiled before raising the grotesque sword and pointing it at them. "As your former colleague, I happily welcome you three to transcend your humanity and become part of my stylish new collection~!"
"—!"
Their ears were deafened by the sound of every single creature around them letting out a heavy screeching roar simultaneously—with dozens, if not hundreds, of them showing up. Wave immediately brought his black short sword that acted as his Teigu's key up to block an attack as one of the creatures swung its arms, fused with a blade.
Clang!
"Argh!"
It felt like being struck by a creature ten times his size, sending him flying backwards. Not even giving him a second to process what happened before it was already upon him, with disgusting, tendril-like flesh trying to make its way inside his mouth.
Panic took over, and he raised his sword, stabbing it into the wall behind him before shouting, "Grand Chariot!"
In the underground lab, a guttural roar echoed, blue ethereal like flames filling the rooms with a titanic figure rising behind Wave, who stared back at Doctor Stylish with a deep blue serpentine eye filled with fury before his entire body became encased in thick plates of blue armor.
---------------
The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.