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Jack Blair

"GO!"

Celtchar ran at Oshiro holding Luin. She planted her feet on a rock and jumped high into the air, throwing her spear at full force at Oshiro, colliding with him seconds afterwards.

Jack pulled out his pistol and began walking to the scene, the command seal on his right hand glowing. Celtchar began pounding Isa's head over and over with her fists.

RULER

An unstoppable force began tugging at Ruler, more powerful than time or love or any force known to man.  Left unchecked, it would tear him apart.  Rather than struggling, though, he grinned, and let the fragment of his identity, his legend, that was Zamiel slough off his ethereal body.

In reality, even Ruler was just a fragment of a larger idea, a shell designed to contain and give rules to a chaotic force.  Noble Phantasms, class designations, Command Seals, all concepts some madman had forced onto corrupted shadows of memories of heroes and villains.

But that didn't matter now.  This was the Sanctum War, and just because it was somehow fake beneath it all didn't mean it had power.

The shell for the part of Ruler known as Zamiel the Destroyer had already been made.  An Archer designation, with stats higher than Ruler's usual shell except at the peak of its power.  A welcome respite from the regular rise and ebb of Ruler's power, correlating with the cycle of the war.  Even though Ruler relied on the existence of the cycle, irregularities such as Zamiel were simply less obvious patterns in the cycle, recurring whenever someone had the courage and mindset to summon that one particular wight.

Zamiel was one of the few parts of Ruler that had the freedom to be chaotic.  Nothing it could do could disrupt the cycle, which meant it had the freedom to do whatever it wanted.

Time started again.

The bullet traveled along its original path, hitting the Lancer Celtchar through the heart.  A crackling black line followed its path, disappearing more slowly than the bullet moved.  Meanwhile, the wight Archer was destroyed, his shell broken from the effort of channeling even a fragment of Ruler's force.  Of Zamiel.

A black humanoid shape, oozing shadowy black goo onto the ground, with eyes and mouth glowing red, appeared behind Celtchar, directly in the path of the bullet.  He caught it with two of his fingers, and it was absorbed into his body.  He took stock of all the beings surrounding him.

The icy rebel.  The defiant maid.  The vengeful mastermind.  The idealistic orphan.  The foolish genius.  His Pandora.  The brash runaway.  The chaotic whelp.  The ignoble charmer.  The deadly zealot.  The ambitious newcomer.

And then countless shells, which barely even registered as sentient.  Programmed as shadows of memories.  Not worth a second of thought.

First of all, a way to wound that whom had brought him into being.  Zamiel saw the pathways stretching forward, saw the pain it would inflict on someone with the potential to kill Isa in the way it would hurt most.  Zamiel opened his hand, and the bullet passed through Riza's chest.  The trail of dripping black energy it left behind consumed her, entering her, and she vomited up black goo as the light left her eyes.

The bullet returned to Zamiel's hand.

Hera

Hera watched Riza die. ...Why? She ran towards where she lay on the ground, careful not to touch the black goo. Hera fell to her knees. There's nothing I can do... A tear rolled down her cheek as her ship sank.

Kirin

In that moment, there was only silence.

Eighteen years had gone by since his birth. Fifteen since hers. Seven catalysts. Seven bullets. Ninety Nine souls, two partners, one curse. Zero noise. In that moment, there was only silence.

Eighteen years of training and prestige defined the life of Kirin Oshiro- a prideful young man destined to be the representative of the Oshiro family in the Sanctum War of twenty fifteen.

Fifteen was the age of the girl when she passed on. She had aspired to be something greater than they expected. Not a lowly servant, not even a mage's assistant, but a fully accepted mage of the association, with new ideas and fresh ideals. It was a lofty dream, it was, and she'd harbored it since the age of seven.

Seven catalysts were used to summon seven servants. The Saber, the two-faced mercenary who fought on both sides of the crusader's divide. The Rider, the delusional but well-meaning hero of old, and old by multiple definitions. The Assassin, whose one bullet sprung the entire world into chaos and lead to the deaths of millions of soldiers around the world. The Caster, a woman alone who sought peace and life, by her own means and meaning. The Berserker, a forge of a thousand cursed destinies and a thousand deadly blades. The Lancer, a heroine who never backed down. She fought until her own bitter end, fighting against a tyrant of a master in order to free her friend. There was one Archer, possessing ninety nine souls, wielding seven bullets.

Adlerflug, the falcon who scoured the landscape in search of a better way. Baumwachstum, a root of a tree. Steadfast, unyielding. Rehe Durchbohren, an unyielding deer who fiercely tore through all obstacles without question. Katzensprung, traveling below the earth. In hiding, or merely waiting for the right moment? Nobody knows. Lachstreppe would take another path when one was blocked out, with disregard to whoever would be taken down in the process. Fuchsdämon, the fox, the soul of the demon...

Zamiel Vertrag. The bullet forged by the demon. A small piece of Sanctum lies within. Ninety Nine fell due to its unholy power. Every time it fires, two die.

Two die, and one is left crying on the floor. There were two partners. A boy and a girl. It is always the same story, told in a different way- but each story brings something new, each brings the count closer to one-hundred. On the dawn of that day someone else will rise and try to put an end to the cycle. But this chosen one is irrelevant. The key is worthless; there is only the curse.

One curse. The girl was doomed from the very moment she saw her command seals. And it was a curse delivered. Upon the dawn of the war it was Isa who assigned them, and it was he who gave the final order, the last command seal. After that, his power was reduced to zero.

Eighteen years had gone by since his birth. Fifteen since hers. Seven catalysts. Seven bullets. Ninety Nine souls, two partners, one curse. Zero noise.

And in that moment, there was only silence.

Caster

Cody was speechless. Caster shut his eyes. "This world belongs to the enemy, Lazarus. Never forget this."

Kirin

Silence. Kirin was doomed to stare for what seemed to be an eternity, completely, utterly helpless. All he'd done to try to protect her was for naught. Every wound, every strike, every sigh in fake frustration whenever she'd make a snarky remark was a moment wasted. There was no key anymore, there was never a key. There was only keeping her safe.

It is said that once a noble cause is shattered, something will always take its place.

Some day, the world returned. Riza stood on the ground, beginning to stumble. Kirin couldn't even hear himself scream, and oh, what a scream it was. He ran in a fashion known only by those who have seen their world crumble- it is the run of a man desperately trying to pick up the pieces before they fall to the ground. The man never succeeds. Kirin fell to her side. Her body was cold, filled with stygian black liquid where her blood was supposed to be. She still had some form of life- it was below conscious thought, and more accurately compared to a breaking down of the human soul into its one fundamental need to love and be loved in return. As the black liquid dripped form her lips she cried, unable to speak. He joined her. For once in his life Kirin Oshiro was a truly and utterly broken man. He held her, he held her like no man had ever held a woman before. For while other forms of embrace would warm his soul, this in particular shattered it.

With her in his arms he couldn't even bear to speak her name.

And in that moment, there was only silence.

She was gone far too soon. He hadn't enough time to look upon her. There was no closure and no satisfaction to holding her. When he finally resolved to put her to rest, he found himself dripping with the liquid. It burnt like acid. He didn't even bat an eye. And for once, the silence was broken.

"It should have been me."

He rose.

"This was my fault. All of it. She never hurt a soul, do you hear me?!" He fell to his knees and started screaming into the sky. "It was all me! I killed Zoraya Krauss! It was my plan! I'm the one who forced her into this war! I'm the murderer! I'm the one who deserves to go to hell!" His face was drenched in tears. "Take me instead, damn it! Take me! She never..." He lowered his head. "...She never hurt you. She never hurt anyone."

And in that moment, there was only silence.

Through the snowstorm, Isa was staring. His seals were gone and there was a massive gaping hole in his chest, but he wouldn't miss this sight for the world. "This is magecraft... my son..."

Kirin looked back. There was hell in his eyes. After this moment there was silence no longer. There was one spell he could use to silence him forever. Zero noise. Silence. Zero. But there would be no silence today. He was silent for eighteen years, and now he would begin to talk. He would talk, he would shout, he would yell and he would scream. Mostly, though, he would simply cry.

The shouting came first, however. Zero was never cast.

"Inferno!" He rose his hand to the sky, neglecting his wand. Isa's body was caught ablaze, his flesh beginning to tear straight off. But before he would accept his death, the flames vanished. Silence.

"Inferno!" The spell came again. The cold of the snow came first, creating two extremes. The pain was unspeakable. But just before he could let go, Kirin stopped the spell once more. Again and again, he would shout, he would light the man on fire, watch him burn in agony and put it out, wait for the ice to accumulate and strike him once more. Over and over this continued. One blast. Two. Seven. Fifteen. Eighteen. Ninety Nine. At some indeterminate point, the charred body no longer screamed. Even then he was struck a few times. Now there was barely anything left to register it as a human corpse.

Kirin was completely drained of all mana.


In that moment, there was only silence. Silence, and the agonizing cries of Kirin Oshiro.

Robin

Robin fell to his knees. Riza had been a kind, funny and innocent person and mage. Tears slowly ran down his eyes as he remembered Celtchar as well. She may have been an enemy, but she had still probably been a good friend. Robin looked at Kirin. He was on the ground, crying, wailing, defeated. Robin wanted to go up to him, put an arm on his shoulder, but he knew that right now, now was not the time. Kirin needed to grieve in his own pain, right now. The comfort would need to come later.

Jack Blair

Jack was always a loner. He had stolen, distanced himself, drank away almost every problem he had. He often reckoned if he wasn't a mage he'd be the most pathetic type of person. However the war had always been able to push those thoughts away, until now. Without Celtchar he had no place on this battlefield, no place in this group. He was simply another normal mage, less than that even, a drunkard. Despite how hesitant he was to admit it, and how horrible the experience had been, he had had the time of his life over the last few weeks. For once he meant something.

Now he had to go back.

He stood up, No..... We have a mission to finish. Celtchar is... was right. Save my bullets for the real deal. We've effectively lost Kirin, but we haven't lost the battle. He walked over to the scene and stood silently.

He took a glance over to Maria and rubbed his eyes.

What in the....

Silence.

Dammit, I forgot my head's empty now.

He turned back to the group and walked over to Cody, "Lazarus, you may want to take a look at your strange ally."

Hera

Hera saw the Spade Master and his servant emerge from the forest. In that moment, all of her sorrow suddenly turned to wrath. Can we not get a single moment's rest? For f***'s sake, we just lost 3 people!! WE'RE MOURNING! But if you insist, we will give you hell.

"HEY EVERYONE! SOMEONE'S ATTACKING!" Hera shouted, drawing everyone's attention to the Spade. She pulled out her spell book and began looking for a suitable attack spell. Kirin's most likely used all his mana during the fight with his father. Hopefully someone's got some tricks up there sleeve.