Rome shall be the world, dear brother! Like a splendid tree, its roots shall extend far past this small peninsula and across every land and ocean imaginable, to reach hearts and minds yet foreign to us and thus bring the whole of humanity together in the most splendid display of civilization that shall never be surpassed!

Chapter 9:

Dark shadows clung to to the walls of the room, hiding them away as if the stone were being hoarded. Braziers and torches blazed, but all their light only brushed the two oaken doors at the front of the room.

Facing the doors in the center of the room sat a throne, squatting upon the marble floor as if laboring under the weight of its burden. Behind the throne was a tree, its crimson trunk fused into the marble floor seamlessly, appearing as sturdy as if it had been grown out of the stone. Autumn leaves brushed the ceiling and spread over nearly the whole hall, yet the only shadow it cast hid the face of the man sitting motionless upon the throne.

He was massive, nearly the height of the tree behind him should he have stood up, and he looked more like a masterwork sculpture rather than a man. He was robed in great flowing robes, crimson and trimmed gold, falling down to his ankles. Upon his head sat a helmet shaped like a wolf's head, with two glowing rubies set in the place of eyes.

Yet it was the sight of his own eyes peering out from the darkness that plagued the air with a vicious chill. Those two pupil-less eyes rimmed with black and flecked with gold that shined in the shadow, not with a madness that came from seeing a world warped by the empty promises of delusion, but with a madness that came from seeing the world as a promise to be fulfilled by one's own hand.

They were the eyes of a Conqueror, now open and unblinking, staring off to the east where the oaken doors led.

The torchlight flickered, the shadows lengthened.

The Conqueror spoke then, in a voice that made the ground shiver. "Be not hidden in shadow."

The torches flared, blazing bright, cowing the darkness into revealing something standing next to the wolf-marked doors.

This something was tall and possessed a pleasant smile, with eyes hidden in perpetual joviality. Its dark green jacket and top hat further lent it that genial air. Indeed, this had all the appearance of a gentleman of good nature.

And yet.

It was in the way he held his cane, as if it was the neck of a child he was about to strangle. The way he stood in his skin as if his suit was three sizes too small. The way his smile had all the architecture of warmth but simply lacked the emotion to convey it.

"My apologies," orated the thing in the shape of a gentleman, in a voice with the shape of a twentieth-century British accent. "It is simply in my nature to keep to the shadows."

"That would imply your kind are in any way natural, 'Court Mage'." retorted the Conqueror. "Be glad you have not made the mistake of approaching any closer, else that rotting corpse would have lost another of his Pillars."

"Your magnanimity shakes me," the thing's smile was wide and mocking as it tapped the brim of its hat with a spindly finger.

"Make no mistake," the Conqueror's voice thundered off the walls though it was little more than a whisper. "Even now, that cup you hold is but a slight impediment to Rome erasing your filth from these consecrated grounds."

"A good thing I have a tight grasp on it, then."

The Conqueror's eyes narrowed. From the left hand that rested upon an arm of his throne he raised a single finger at the man-shaped thing.

"Begone as the dust you came from."

Autumn leaves blew down from the great tree's canopy in a torrent that swallowed up the thing in the shape of man.

Inside that maelstrom of gold and ruby, the thing's visage twisted, its proportions growing inhumanly long and distorted. It's eyes opened, glowing bright red, pitted with crimson ruby. "Tch." The noise flitted out from between cracked lips drawn all the way back to its ears in a soundless snarl. It reached a clawed hand inside its coat and grasped at something.

A flash of ethereal prismatic light pulsed from within the swirling mess of dry leaves, blowing them away in tatters before dissolving into purple mist.

Lev Lainur, 'Court Mage' of United Rome, had fled.

And the Conqueror lowered his finger.

Thus inconsideration and shadow returned to the room.

Though the memory of thought and light was slow to fade.

It was some time later when red and golden eyes creased.

"My child," the Conqueror called, his voice cracking like a whip over the hills and plains of Rome and into the consciousness of his kin.

Golden motes of mana coalesced before his throne into the shape of a Berserker class Servant kneeling before him. The Mad Emperor Caligula clutched at his broken arm, swaying unsteadily as his temple bled freely.

"Divine...Founder..." Caligula growled.

A fleck of regret flashed through the Conqueror's eyes before impassivity reasserted itself. "Rome had thought my child capable of relaying my estranged child home."

"Heroic...spirits..."

A single eyebrow arched high. "More Servants have been summoned? Curious indeed. And that malignant growth said it did not use its cup. Which means...ah." He nodded slowly in realization. "Chaldea. Their intervention is timely. Indeed, with more Heroic Spirits at her side, my estranged child may indeed be able to turn the tide of this war against this Rome."

Rather than appear worried at such a thought however, the Conqueror's smile was genuine. He looked upon Caligula and spoke in words that beckoned rather than commanded. "Rise."

The Mad Emperor shuddered as his arm snapped back into position, as the blood flowing freely down his scalp dried and flaked off into red dust, as the skin around his wounds boiled, closing without a hint of a scar left behind.

The Conqueror spoke to forestall the Mad Emperor's departure. "Rome must keep you at bay for now, my child."

The Mad Emperor bowed his head stiffly without a word, a foot drawing back already in anticipation of a dismissal.

The Conqueror inclined his head graciously. "An admirably restrained response. Know this is not without cause or reparation. With the arrival of Chaldea's Masters it has become known that this child's wishes cannot be fulfilled with Rome's constraints upon him." Here the Conqueror paused. And spoke again to make certain of his intentions. "When next Rome allows it, this child may use his Noble Phantasm and Imperial Privilege."

Caligula's second nod was deeper.

"You may leave, to sally forth when next Rome needs you." said the Conqueror quietly, the command gone from his voice.

The Mad Emperor turned without a word or backwards glance. The wolf doors opened before him, quick enough for his stride to remain unbroken, and closed behind him as quickly.

As the dull thud resounded in the chamber, the torches flickered, began to lose their radiance.

Left in the throne room's lengthening shadows, glowed two unblinking eyes of red and gold.

The red pulsed from the eagerness of a wolf on the prowl. The gold shined from an emperor's restraint.

But slowly, near the far corner an eye, the barest sliver of gold trembled.

And slowly followed the dying light into the abyss.

"Emperor?"

The short blonde woman blinked, tearing her eyes away from the western horizon still cloaked in dusk. She turned in her seat to face the man standing at attention in entrance of her tent. "Yes, Praetor Maximus? This one will hear your petition."

"I am honored as always," Maximus bowed formally and glancing about where it was safe to stand before entering a few steps inside the spacious tent and standing to attention.

It would not do in a war to place a target upon your back, no matter how beaten your enemy was. Assassins were always a threat. Nero's tent walls were of thick cloth laced with oils to keep the elements and all but the sharpest of knives away and framed with collapsible steel fashioned from Rome's best smiths. It was identical in every way to other soldiers tents, if not for the interior kept furnished with lavish trappings befitting an Emperor even on a march.

"I wish to make clear some of the concerns the men have been having about our new allies. They are, well..."

"Eccentric?" A small smile danced, framed by the dawn's spotlight. "Strange?"

Praetor Maximus nodded tightly, not seeing much humor in the way his men had been muttering among themselves. "Quite."

Emperor Nero gave a gracious chuckle. "Perhaps to them we are the strange ones. Doubly so, considering the strange happenings that have occurred in the past several months. This United Rome, the emergence of old enemies turned allies..."

The young praetor shifted uneasily.

"I am aware of what the men speak of in hushed tones," said Nero, regally inclining her head, somehow managing to nod down to the praetor despite sitting and being almost half the man's size even when standing. "An old enemy turned ally is indeed familiar, if not suspicious. Even foreigners from different lands are not unheard of, understandable even, given Rome's wide reach. However, these 'Masters' are much too different to fit into our soldiers' framework of understanding. Their clothes, mannerisms, and methods of fighting are alien to us, as are their so-called Servants. Truth be told, were they any other folk I would have no doubt refused their aid."

"Yet." prompted Maximus quietly.

"Yet," said Nero, raising an imperious finger. "I believe them. They chose to come to us as with strange qualities laid bare despite their apparent familiarity with our time, disdaining use of a facade. Tell me, Maximus, would you have chosen such a first introduction to an Emperor such as I?"

Maximus sighed as he shook his head. "Upon the battlefield, with force enough to wipe out half of a field of soldiers? No, I do not believe I would have done something so audacious. Even if I knew such a course of action could...impress upon your great self a certain strength of character."

"Thus, I believe they are so openly suspicious so as to be above suspicion," proclaimed Nero with a broad smile. "And, even should they be lying for whatever purpose, it would be a magnificent enough performance to earn my pardon twice over!"

A flicker of a long-standing pain flashed across Maximus' face. "Your word is a decree in and of itself, my emperor."

Nero took the unspoken portion of his opinion in stride and promptly tossed it aside in favor of her own. "Are there other matters that need my attending to, Praetor?"

Maximus took a moment to think before shaking his head and standing up at attention. "Nothing I cannot take care of myself." He stood and bowed from his waist. "By your leave, my Emperor of Roses?"

"Granted."

With a final bow, the youngest Praetor of Rome left the tent of his Emperor, his face outwardly calm but pondering furiously at how in the crusty reaches of Jupiter's beard he was supposed to find the men to bolster his battered legion in less than a week without having to accept the aid of the Celtic Queen.

The Emperor of Roses herself returned to contemplating the slowly brightening horizon.

Doubt was not a feeling she was familiar with...but even her wondrous self could be taken aback at times. Now that she had more than enough time to think, that is.

Where had the usurpers come from, with such strength? In the outset of this war, she had been forced to cede nearly half of Rome's territory to a furious advance that had only been checked at this previous battle.

In truth, the army they had fought today was all that was left from the massive force that she had whittled away at for the past few weeks. Perhaps with this victory they could launch a counterattack for the first time. The army she had just defeated had to have been a sizeable amount of this United Rome's forces.

Yet the casual disregard these enemy soldiers had for their lives could have only meant one of two things: that the enemy commander was shockingly inept, or they were all considered expendable. Perhaps both.

Nero stroked Aestus Estus carefully, its quiet flames only warm to her touch. The enemy, in sending such a loose, recklessly formidable force against her was showing a level of condescending disdain she had not felt since her time with Seneca and Master Simon.

And...her.

A dull ache thundered dark clouds within her head, promising lightning and torrential pain. Mercifully, the migraine passed by her, and Nero could not help but feel disdain towards herself in feeling the urge to sigh in relief.

"What manner of Emperor allows the mere weakness of flesh to temper their behavior so?" Nero scoffed softly.

What manner of Emperor indeed?

Nero's eyes wandered towards the West once more. No doubt the center of this new United Rome lay towards that dusk horizon, where the enemy ruler was no doubt consolidating their power. She had wondered what kind of person they were, and what kind of Court Mage they had as retainer to raise such a force against her so quickly.

But such musings had been long since discarded.

It was now that Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Emperor of Roses and rightful ruler of Rome felt doubt.

Wondering why she felt not as if she were marching further away from enemy territory, but from home.

The night sky to the east continued to grow lighter as an old but well-muscled Roman man looked into the depths of an open barrel of water. His reflection stared back at him with dull blue eyes set into a haggard and scarred face, bleary and lined with countless wrinkles.

Might as well get this over with, thought the old man as he continued to stare at water, still not moving a muscle.

Several moments passed. The old man's eyelids drooped.

And yet more time passed.

He felt his arms tiring.

And Sol peeked out over the land curiously, as if to see what the big fuss was all about.

"Get it over with already," Septimus muttered to himself. "Leathery old man."

Taking a deep breath, Old Man Septimus dunked his head into the water. Just as quickly he rose up, shaking his head like a wet dog, splattering the ground around him with water.

As he wiped at his face with a hand, Septimus sank into a squat miserably as the memories he had tried to forget last night poked and prodded at his thoughts. Terrible news of losing nearly all his pay. Bargaining with quartermasters with what was left of his coin and making the anvil that was his debt twice as heavy.

"A good thing at least a drop of the Lethe can be found at the bottom of a bottle," he muttered.

"Are you Septimus?" A young man's voice asked almost incredulously from behind him. His accent was strange, but the words and grammar were perfect Latin.

The old man grunted. Great. An uppity young soldier looking to polish his pricker in both ways. "Who's asking?"

"Sorry for bothering you while you were working, I'm Emiya Shirou"

Septimus snorted as he stood and turned to face the youngster. "What kind of name is..." His next words died in his throat.

Red hair. Nobody in the five legions had that kind of rusty red hair. Nobody he knew dressed in but a flower-embroidered cloak, long pants and sandals.

Nobody but the demigod who had played a large part in annihilating most of the last United Roman army the Fifth Legion had fought just days ago.

After a moment of Septimus' throat retaining a deathly grip on his words, the demigod's face turned, impossibly, awkward. "I was told that an old man named Septimus was the chief blacksmith of the Second Legion." The morning sun turned his hair bright scarlet as he looked around. "If you could tell me where he is, I'll be on my way."

"I'm Septimus," the words managed to pass through Septimus' dry lips unscathed. "What're you, ah, what are you looking for, er, Lord Emiya?"

The demigod smiled politely. "It's fine to just call me Emiya. I was hoping to speak to you about your forging techniques. You've made swords for almost all of the soldiers in the legion and they're all of a remarkably high quality even compared to other swords I know of."

A son of Vulkan? "I would not have expected a warrior of your great strength to be interested in my, ah, mundane creations." He was sure half the moisture on his face was sweat now instead of bracken water.

The demigod's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Mundane?" He repeated wonderingly. "I guess there might still be some Mystery left in this time, considering how this is a Singularity and the Age of the Gods has only just ended."

Septimus blinked in incomprehension, but finally he got the vague impression that his work had impressed this son of divinity. He stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat of habit but thought better of literally spitting upon ground that a demigod had stood upon.

But the demigod's next words snapped Septimus back to an unpleasant reality. "If it doesn't trouble you, could I see your forge?"

The old man's eyes widened in realization and horror.

The mound of swords and arrowheads in his tent. All of that tedious work that had driven him to drink so heavily last night, and the threats he had received from young Maximus to fix them all by the time the Legion had their ('triumphant', hah!) return to Rome.

"VULKAN'S BALLS!"

...is what he would have liked to yell right then and there. But as the proper and god-fearing citizen of Rome he was, the thought of disrespecting divinity (while in its presence) stayed his tongue.

"I am sorry, but perhaps another day." Septimus felt as awkward as a bear wearing a toga as he bowed. "I have much work to do to keep this army equipped, Lord Emiya."

This grizzled old man was hardly able to handle people well, but even he could tell there was little cheer in the way the corners of Lord Emiya's mouth turned up. "Please drop the title," requested Emiya firmly as he raised a staying hand. "And I wouldn't impose, only watch."

Septimus opened his mouth to protest but quickly realized the dangers of his forge were virtually nonexistent to the one before him. "I suppose..." said the old man hesitantly.

"I'll try not to distract you," said Emiya promptly. "And, I won't be staying for long, I have somewhere else to be later."

"Well...thank you," said Septimus lamely. Yet as he turned and trudged over to the forge pavilion, a thought struck him that almost made him stumble.

If he truly is a son of Vulkan, acting with his father's own blessing, what happens to me if my work isn't satisfactory?

Stories of what happened to mere mortals when they displeased divinity flashed through his mind with great urgency. Ixion's name being only one of many.

Broken arrowheads and dull swords can wait.

As Septimus picked up his hammer, the seventh son of seven daughters resolved to create a magnum opus, under threat of being bound to a flaming wheel for all eternity.

"I don't think I'll ever get over it," said Gabrielle 'Gabby' Fujimaru with a sigh.

"Yeah," said Ritsuka 'Gudao' Fujimaru appreciatively. "Same."

"I mean," said Gabby, gesturing towards the sight. "It really makes you just feel something ineffable."

"One of the few things Magecraft itself is a lesser Mystery to," said Gudao seriously.

"Masters..." Mashu Kyrielight blinked in polite confusion as she leaned against her shield dug into the grass that was providing Gudao and Gabby shade. "Why are you staring at the sky? And, er, what are you wearing on your head there, senpai?"

The Last Masters of Chaldea lay upon a small incline and were looking up at the endless ceiling of azure blue and wispy white, side-by-side and doing their best to relax for the moment. Gabby had linked her hands under her head and crossed her legs. Gudao had on a surprisingly well fitted Roman helmet, clashing with the modern look of his Mystic Code suit. Tufts of his unruly hair peeked out from under the rim, making it seem as if the helmet were part of a Halloween costume rather than the genuine article.

Over the hill behind them, a sea of men in tunics of red and gold were breaking down tents, putting out cookfires, loading carts, and quickly getting ready to march. The wind carried with it the unique noise of the bustling of many men, filled intermittently with the braying of pack animals and uttered oaths.

"That's a good point Mashu. The sky's a mystery but there's no beating who the true stars are," said Gabby cheerfully.

Her brother turned his head towards her. "Don't the stars come twelve hours later, sis?"

"Midnight channel then, smartass," Gabby reached over and rapped on Gudao's helmet with the back of a finger, ringing it like a gong. "Clouds are way cooler than stars anyways."

"Stars are pretty cool though," Gudao said with a wince as he sat up, undoing the strap under his chin and taking off his helmet. His hair, having been imprisoned for so long, sprung back out as unruly as ever. He rubbed at his ears, frowning down at Gabby.

"Have you ever seen a star in the shape of a - " Gabby gesticulated wildly with the expression of someone believing they were talking perfect sense. " - a teddy bear?"

"Do constellations count?"

"Hm." Gabby raised a finger and pointed at her brother approvingly. "That's a good point."

"I know, came up with it myself."

"Masters, shouldn't we be getting ready to leave with the rest of the legion?" Mashu asked with a sigh. She glanced backwards. The Romans had been famed for the discipline and strength of their standing army, and what she saw now was truly impressive when compared to the likes of the armies she had seen while in Orleans.

"Aren't we ready now?" Gabby said, springing into a sitting position. "It isn't like we have much to pack or stow anyways."

"I think Mashu meant we should be accompanying Emperor Nero," said Gudao, fitting the helm back on his head again. "After all, she told us it would be around half a day or so until we got back to Rome once we started marching. Actually, come to think of it, how far away from Rome are we?"

Suddenly a hologram blinked into existence in front of Gabby. "Not too far away I think," said Doctor Romani, "about thirty kilometers or so from the city's center."

"Oh hey there Doc," said Gabby, waving. "Have you finished the analysis of how Caligula got away yet?"

"Yes, that's what we need to talk about now, actually."

Gudao put his helmet onto his lap and linked his hands together on top of it. Mashu leaned in closer surreptitiously. Strands of idly plucked grass fell from Gabby's hand as she folded her arms.

"We've confirmed that though Caligula was recalled by something like a Command Seal, it wasn't exactly like a regular expression of a Command Seal's power. Instead of tearing a hole through the fabric of reality and instantaneously transporting Caligula through it, it looks like the exact space he inhabited was somehow replaced with a different space where he wasn't."

Gabby blinked. Gudao blinked once, and then another time.

"Isn't that something extremely concerning, Doctor?!" Mashu said, shocked. "That level of dimensional control is practically True Magic!"

"Well...yeah? But since we just finished the analysis now, and the enemy hasn't used that ability again yet against us we can assume it has some sort of limit to it right?"

Gabby shrugged. "You're probably right, but you know what they say about the absence of evidence right?"

"Yeah," Romani's hologram nodded glumly. "It's not evidence by itself. Sorry, I should have gotten this done and messaged you two quicker."

"Ah, don't be like that Doctor," Gabby reached over and flicked a finger through Dr. Roman's holographic head, who reared back in surprise. "Wasn't riffing on you or anything, just wondering out loud."

"Things are never simple in these Singularities are they?" Gudao sighed, shaking his head. "Too many questions, never enough answers."

"We never did figure out how Kiyohime and Elizabeth ended up in Orleans," murmured Mashu in agreement.

Gudao scratched at his head for the umpteenth time while considering that particular happening. "They're always so evasive about that topic too..."

"At any rate, there has to be some reason why United Rome hasn't sent out any more Servants despite having a legion of Nero's army on the run," summed up Chaldea's acting commander as he straightened up in his chair. "We should proceed on the idea that United Rome can't or won't field any more than one Servant at a time, while also keeping in mind that it may also be a feint for us to let our guards down."

"In other words," said Gabby with a wry smile. "Be prepared for anything, right?"

Dr. Roman seemed to deflate a little. "Easier said than done, I know. Especially since we know next to nothing about this 'United Rome' that seems to be at the center of this Singularity."

Gudao suddenly noticed that the background noise of a crowd of men working had dimmed noticeably. He looked behind him at the camp and his eyes widened at the sight.

Almost every tent had been broken down and packed, with only a few left standing that included Nero's and the legion blacksmith's canopy billowing smoke that Shirou had disappeared into some time ago after looking much refreshed and asking personally for some time to be summoned in the Singularity. As it turned out, Shirou had been the only one who had expressed an interest in seeing the Roman Singularity again.

As Cu Chulainn put it, they were soldiers whose job ended as soon as the last enemy fell. Robin had shrugged in agreement with the Irishman and ever-dutiful Ushiwakamaru had been satisfied with a few headpats from Gudao. And Georgios had already taken his fill of photos already.

As if on cue, the blacksmith's tent flaps opened and Shirou slowly walked out, gently supporting a staggering old man. A low buzz ran through the crowd of soldiers and a few broke away with their hands falling to their short swords, though not without some very evident trepidation about confronting a Servant.

Gabby was already on her feet and ready to run before Shirou stopped her by making brief eye contact with her through the sea of bodies.

Septimus is already explaining, said Shirou through their bond. I think I'll be fine.

And indeed, already the old blacksmith, Septimus, was gesticulating wildly and speaking. The gathered soldiers noticeably relaxed and a few broke out into chuckles as the old man pointed a gnarled finger at Shirou and shook his head with a weak smile.

"It's not like I was worrying in the first place," said Gudao, clapping Gabby on the shoulder as he came up next to her. "But it does seem like Shirou can make friends."

"My little boy's all grown up," Gabby said with an exaggerated pout.

"I believe he can hear you, Senpai," said Mashu with a small smile.

Gabby blinked. "Eh?"

Yes mother, came Shirou's amused voice. It seems he can.

Gabby rolled her eyes. "My, what big ears Servants have," she muttered.

A static-laced laugh made the Masters and Mashu turn, to see Dr. Roman smiling at them cheerfully. "I guess I don't have much to worry about for now if you three are able to take it easy like this. I'll need to run some more diagnostics on the quantum particles we have in storage soon, but as always I'll be around if you need me."

"You got it Doc!" said Gabby cheerfully with a two-armed wave.

"Thanks for the info, Doctor," said Mashu with a smile.

"Don't push yourself," Gudao chipped in encouragingly. "That goes for the rest of Chaldea's staff, too."

Doctor Roman chuckled again. "I'll try, Ritsuka. And so will they, right guys?!"

A faint chorus of voices fizzled through the comms as Doctor Roman looked off-screen.

Doctor Roman turned one last time to smile at them. "Thanks. Good luck, Gabrielle, Ritsuka."

With a blip, the hologram blinked out from existence.

"Now to find Emperor Nero and regale her with tales of our adventures!" said Gabby, stretching with her arms in the air for a moment and starting up a leisurely stroll through the camp.

Gudao and Mashu started following her. After a moment aimless walking, Mashu firmly placed her hands upon Gabby's shoulders and wordlessly gestured to Emperor Nero's tent with a gentle smile. With their course corrected, Gudao spoke up.

"You sure that I shouldn't - ?"

"Brother," Gabby flatly held eye contact with her brother while skirting around the still-smoking ashes of a cook-fire. "It's good for reports but most of the time you make it seem like we actually had a plan! You really think she's going to believe that with just the three of us here - "

"Three to nine of us at any given time, senpai," Mashu cut in helpfully, tapping Gabby's shoulder again towards the right direction.

Gabby pointed at Mashu in acknowledgement before continuing on, " - And not like, an army?"

"You just like embellishing everything," grumbled Gudao.

He nodded to a Roman soldier jogging by, who felt strangely obligated to give him a quick salute back. A moment later, the soldier stopped, blinked, and turned around to look at Gudao, confirming with his own eyes that it had not been his commanding officer who had just passed him by.

"Fine, fine," sighed Gudao. "Just don't go too overboard."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Gabby clutched at her chest. "Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing..."

" - And then they made me their chief!" Gabby finished triumphantly, standing firm atop the back of the wagon.

"Marvelously done!" Nero applauded enthusiastically from the back of her horse. "I did not expect such bold thinking could have ever worked against even such an assortment of bandits alone, even to one as courageous as I!"

The Roman soldiers surrounding them followed their Emperor's lead with genuine appreciation. Most started looking at Gabby with newfound respect and admiration. Praetor Maximus in particular was looking straight forward but nodding with a smile as he patted his horse's neck absentmindedly.

Gudao sat near the front of the wagon next to the wagon driver and held his face in his hands.

Mashu patted him on the back gently and reassuringly. "Don't worry, Senpai." She said with a smile full of sympathy. "Rome shouldn't be too much farther."

"Why couldn't Shirou have stayed behind and distracted Gabby for just a little longer?" Gudao groaned. "I would take the drain on my mana reserves over this torture..."

"I'm sure he had something more important to do back in Chaldeas, Senpai."

"I hope so, Mashu," Gudao sighed as he looked balefully at his sister's gaily laughing, still-standing, figure. "I hope so."

Two men lay upon patches of barren earth. Each spent of energy and more than a little beat up.

The setting sun painted the sky a deep orange and the clouds a pastel gold. Dots of light blue mana hung in the air, dissipating like rain into the sky from the shattered remnants of thousands of blades scattered across the wasteland.

EMIYA coughed to clear his throat. "We will never speak of this again. Agreed?"

"Uh-huh," Shirou wheezed. "We'll just have to agree to disagree on our...choice of partner."

"I can...live with that."

As they crested the hill rising in the middle of the forest, the sound of the River Tiber trickled into their ears.

Emperor Nero visibly brightened at that and waved the wagon driver forward and dropped her horse's pace slightly. The trio of Chaldeans looked to her despite being in conversation as her horse sidled up alongside them.

She could admire such dutifulness.

"Soon you shall see the glory of Rome, honorary Praetors!" She raised a hand high into the air pompously, as if her sleeve were a curtain ready to present a theater act to an audience. "Though you may have seen many wonders and mysteries before, it's splendor shall no doubt leave you speechless! You may praise us when such a notion takes a hold of you," she said, puffing herself up with self-satisfaction.

"I'm looking forward to it!" said Gudao enthusiastically, sitting up higher in his seat and looking over the head of their wagon driver, who raised a slight eyebrow without turning around. Mashu copied her Master and if she happened to press her shoulder against Gudao's, well, the wagon itself was not that large of course. Not that the Master noticed anything else besides the sound of the River Tiber growing louder with every passing moment.

Gabby took one look and shook her head with an amused smile on her lips.

"Umu!" Nero nodded in approval at Gudao. "Of course, you may cast your expectations ever higher! Be assured they will be met!"

Then the march stopped as a wave of fists raised high and held in place and the air was filled with the sound of rushing water and unsheathing blades.

Her eyes narrowed as Nero stopped her horse and raised her own fist high, stopping every soldier marching behind her. "My apologies, honorary Praetors," said Nero with a tight nod to the trio who were still caught slightly off-guard by the sudden change in atmosphere. "It appears our scouts have sighted that enemies are near."

Leather creaked ominously as she gripped her saddle tight, looking forward to where her Rome lay.

"Here," she spat in indignation. "Truly their pursuit of my - "

Her eyes were not the only ones to widen in sudden realization as to the purpose of an enemy force so close to a vulnerable capital state. As the Last Masters of Chaldea looked to Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, they saw in that figure something they recognized.

From the hell that Fuyuki had become, facing down a fallen tyrant. In the dragon fire that had scorched Orleans.

They recognized in this Emperor Nero, so full of fury, the qualities that could make her an enemy of humanity.

"PRAETOR MAXIMUS!"

Emperor Nero's shout broke the tense silence among the men like a stone sending ripples of courage across the surface of a pond of hesitation. For these soldiers were but men, who had fought and bled and died against those inhuman in the shape of man for the past seven days and six nights.

"YES, MY EMPEROR!" Came the young man's resounding reply.

Her raised fist descended, her sleeve falling as if to signal a curtain call. "BEGIN FULL MARCH! OUR ENEMIES THREATEN ROME ITSELF! THIS WILL NOT STAND!"

The roar of a legion shook the branches of the forest trees, soon followed by the pounding of hundreds of feet upon the ground as Nero's orders swiftly made their way down the chain of command.

At the same time, a path opened up in the middle of this rush that no one took.

"It is brazen to ask for you assistance with only the promise of repayment," Nero calmed her warhorse to speak to the Masters and Mashu. "Yet I fear brazen I must be at this time. The heart of Rome is in peril and I know not the exact strength of those endangering it."

"You'll forgive our impertinence then, Emperor Nero," said Gudao as he leapt out of wagon carefully avoiding the Roman soldiers rushing by. Gabby followed with a soft cry of "Parkour!", and Mashu manifested her shield as she landed, placing it down firmly onto the ground. "But we're already way ahead of you. Thanks for the ride Felix," he added, addressing the wagon driver.

"Anytime, kid," said the man with a toothy smile as he saluted to his Emperor first and drove the wagon forward with a shout. In seconds, the wagon filled up with soldiers who climbed on to get to the frontlines quicker.

"Also, we'll have to ask you in return, Emperor Nero," Gabby said as she took out from her pocket what looked like a circlet of black wire holding in place a light blue orb. As she bent down to place the Saint Graph Shadow on Mashu's shield, she looked up with a glint in her eye. "Can you keep up with us?"

Emperor Nero's lips quirked slightly before settling into a firm line, looking forward once more with her eyes narrowed. "I shall receive such flippant attitude as a promise to excel!"

Drawing Aestus Estus as it flared ever brighter, she spoke quietly, almost inaudible, as if enraptured by a stage play unfolding from a distance. "Let us truly set the stage for this theater of war."

With those words, Emperor Nero shook her head and rode forth on the road opened up by her soldiers, raising Aestus Estus high and eliciting cheers and roars from her troops.

Gudao let out a sigh. "Hey Gabs?"

"Yep?"

"I'll ask for Mata Hari's help on this one. And if her Noble Phantasm doesn't work I'll rely on Atalante's."

"Oh, good ideas. I was thinking of - "

"Just a second though," said Gudao, raising a hand and looking slightly irritated. "Would you tell me just how you were planning to outrun a Nero whose Imperial Privilege just gave her Riding, on top of us just now giving her a head start?"

"If you let me finish, I could've tell you," she grumbled. "But I'll just say one name and you'll get it anyways."

"What? As many Servants as we have, I don't think - "

Gabby smirked and said the name.

Gudao stared for a moment as the tail end of the legion came into sight and looked into the air. Then up and down the long stretch of suddenly vacated, relatively smooth road. Then his eyes roamed back to Gabby, whose smile could have belonged on the face of an imp.

"I don't understand," said Mashu, confused. "I thought that Noble Phantasm only - "

"It's...complicated," said Gudao with a wince. "It'll consume a lot of mana but given how powerful and safe it is in this time, we might be fine anyways. But we'll be doing this without any knowledge of the enemy forces, and - "

"It'll look totally badass, and time's a-wasting and I'M ALREADY DOING IT!"

"WAIT, GABBY - !"

"TOO LATE!"

The air whined with the sound of mana coalescing into physical form. A fountain of light jetted up into the air and quickly dissipated as the Servant stood from where Gabby's Saint Graph Shadow had lain, answering the call of the Command Seals glowing on the back of Gabby's right hand.

Mashu nodded to the Servant, somehow feeling it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly, he nodded back without a word.

Emperor Nero frowned as her steed charged ahead to assess the United Rome forces. She could not feel the Chaldeans catching up to her on one of their quicker 'Servants', such as that foreign-looking girl she had seen dart about the previous battlefield engagement.

Certainly, Gabrielle was confident in matching her riding skills, but bravado was hardly in short supply around her it seemed, whether for good or for ill. But a moment Nero shook her head.

Inconsequential.

Rome was threatened at this moment. She would make do with her own forces if she could not -

Wait. What is that sound?

It was a low whine that was growing louder, and higher in pitch, far too quickly. As if it were a giant stone being flung from a -

It was only for an instant.

The air itself shrieked as a black triangular form streaked across the sky above her, making the tree tops sway back and forth. And the noise was still accompanied by a bestial roar that was every bit as audible as the noise the thing itself was making.

"ARTHUUUURRRRRRRR!"

A/N:

It's been a while. Yes, I'm alive. Yes, the story is still going, I'm just cosplaying a glacier at the moment. One that's moving backwards almost as often as not.

When I started writing this story I came up with the idea of putting Shirou in Chaldea and thought of the potential character interactions there, but as I played more Fate Grand/Order the more I came to enjoy the story of that game a lot more.

So, tell me what you guys think of this idea:

When I manage to complete this Septem arc, I'm going to start writing LZO in an episodic format centering around Shirou rather than being solely a Part One fan fic. For this arc alone, the Masters and the Servants starring in Septem take the center stage, not Shirou.

I feel like a lot of people are here for Shirou hijinks, but over the past year(!) I realized that if I want to cover a Singularity there's going to be only a little of that because then I don't feel like I'd have any "space" to "fix" Septem and shed a better light on misrepresented Servants like Caligula, Romulus, Boudica, and a few more.

Or:

I can keep going like this, switching focus to the Masters and Mashu when the Singularities happen and switching back to Shirou when the relevant events show up.

Whatever you guys think, I read all my reviews.

Even ones that think Zerkerlot summoning his jet here is just plain stupid. Don't worry guys, I think it's stupid too.

Ahem. How's Septimus, the old man OC. Boring? Funny? Or even just a little tiny bit interesting?

Feedback is appreciated as always. Still worried about getting everyone's personalities down right, especially Nero since I haven't played Extra, Extella or watched the anime. And as always, I will try not to take so long with the next update. But considering how long its been since the last update...yeah, I might need to get my ass into gear.