23

When I wake, it's to the 'sun' of the pocket dimension is just beginning to break the 'horizon', mirrored by the water's surface it shines over. In my arms, I feel Artoria begin to move, and with another thought I let my Shroud collapse about my body, turning from sheet to clothing. As this is happening, I feel Artoria's Shroud spin itself into existence, clothing her as she lies on the water, staring sideways at the rising sun. Her bare body disappearing under the white and blue of her clothing has me disappointed for a brief moment, but only a moment. We do have stuff we have get to today, and I have a feeling this won't be a one-time thing.

I stand, stretching my shoulders, before offering a hand to the still-lying Artoria. Her gaze meets mine, and an eyebrow raises in amusement, but she lets herself take it to pull herself upright, eyes on mine the whole way. Finally, she speaks.

"Well, I will not deny that you managed to come up with a distraction."

I smile. "Thanks. You enjoyed it, then?"

"I did. I am glad that this mature body of mine can properly experience such pleasures."

"And I'm glad your body could give me such pleasure." We pause a moment, just looking at each other, before I continue. "What do we do now?"

"As it always should be, the first matter of the day is breakfast."

"Right. But do we do that here, or-"

Artoria's eyes break from mine, darting first right towards the towering black spire that marked the Mansion located at the center of the pocket-dimension several kilometres away, then left to the still-open portal we'd used to enter here.

"With the sun just rising, it will likely be some time before the village awakens. We can afford the time to eat here."

I give a nod. And I can make a breakfast-in-bed for Gray and her mother, as a quasi-apology for the disruption we'd caused.

-

Even taking it fairly leisurely, the trip to the mansion is a matter of moments, and from there I head off to the kitchen. I wind up going with a relatively simple English Breakfast, which feels appropriate. Using my cooking skills, making four plates filled to the brim with eggs, sausages, bacon, mushrooms, beans, tomatoes and toast takes no real time, and once that's done I place two in my time-locked inventory and leave the kitchen for the dining room bearing the other two. Pushing open the door to the dining room, I find a surprise. Seated at the table, chatting with Artoria, is Semiramis. Of all the Servants in my…employ?, Semiramis was the one I had interacted the least with, and not just due to her late addition. She had previously been content to keep mostly to herself, and certainly had never come down from her tower to join any of us for breakfast.

But the thing that most draws my attention to Semiramis is her outfit. Gone is her black ballgown, and instead she's wearing…something considerably more complex. Her hair is pulled into two massive twintails, each topped by a black dove-shaped figurine. A tiara covers her brow, a golden necklace drapes into her cleavage, and her corset is replaced by…what looks like a mix of bodytape and a bikini. I can't make out if the lower part of her outfit has changed, seated as she is behind a table. I want to ask about the outfit the instant I see it, but I clamp down on the thought and sidle through the door with the plates of food in my hands.

The sound of the doors opening draws the attention of both monarchs, Artoria's attention is fixed on the food, while Semiramis looks to me. I place both plates down on closest part of the table to me, causing Artoria to reach across and grab one, before turning to Semiramis.

"Good morning, Empress Semiramis. I didn't know you'd be joining us."

"I wouldn't want to be too predictable. And I wish to speak with you about the world you promised me."

Right. That. As I pause, I feel a small burst of magic and the plate before me is tugged towards Semiramis' spot on the table. As this is happening, three glasses of deep green liquid appear near the three of us, and Semiramis takes the glass flute in her hand, raising it to the pair of us before bringing it to her lips.

"To your health."

I take the glass, raise mine to hers in response before gingerly drinking. The taste and smell hit at once, my blessing letting me know that this variant of absinthe is significantly stronger, laced with a combination of extra ingredients that I was fairly sure would be lethal to mundane people, but here worked shockingly well to give the drink a kick. I take another sip, pulling out the chair nearest me and sitting down to face Semiramis. Artoria seems content to leave the drink for now to concentrate on the food, while Semiramis pokes questioningly at the food on the plate with her cutlery.

"Sorry if it isn't fit for an Empress. Again, didn't know you'd be joining us."

She looks to Artoria, raises a sliver of sausage to her lips, eats it and gives a shrug.

"It is food fit for a King at least. It might not be to my exact taste, but I can tell it is perfectly made. Now, back to the topic at hand."

She lightly pushes the plate to the side, leaning forward in a way that causes interesting motions to happen to her breasts. Still, I manage to not get distracted, and I mentally make the purchases I was always going to need to make for our bargain. Out flow 80 points- half of what I'd made from Flauros, and as Exit Stage Left and Pursued By A Bear begin to function, I receive a mental list of the new worlds.

Mass Effect and Fallout are discarded immediately, as is Dragon Age after a little more consideration. That leaves four; Dynasty Warriors, Fire Emblem Awakening's Bad Future, Akame Ga Kill and Warhammer Fantasy during a Crisis. Of those, Warhammer Fantasy would require a little more power to feel confident, but there was only one option for the next world anyways. One of the criteria I'd been aiming for in my overall travel was to try and make the worlds I was visiting better than they'd be in canon; that was one of the main reasons I'd wanted to grant Atalanta's Wish. And the Doomed Future of Awakening needed about as much improvement as possible, given how without interference every single human in that world would either be dead, or forced to abandon the entire world to time travel to the past- it was the next stop, no matter what. Which left two for Semiramis.

Artoria continues to munch as I think. I had never especially enjoyed Akame Ga Kill as a story; it seemed too intent on being edgy with its child-rapist murder-clowns and the like. Still, improving canon would certainly be possible- just preventing the deaths I remember and bringing down Honest faster would sort that out. It would, however, be more of a challenge than Dynasty Warriors- the physical stats of certain combatants might be superior to even all-out Artoria, and each fighter of note would have a Noble Phantasm-esque Tengu, including Esdeath's Timestop, which would require a point investment for immunity. Dynasty Warrriors lacked much of that- just pure beatsticks who might be able to physically match Servants but lacked any of their hax or trump cards. The setting was one I knew better, and the other Servants likely would have some grounding in it as well, given how Romance of the Three Kingdoms part of the Nasuverse.

I'm still thinking when a small cough draws my attention. Semiramis is staring at me, waiting. Right. Well, I have something of an answer for her, anyways.

"Your world won't be the next one we're going to, but it will almost certainly be the second, and if not definitely the third. I have two possible ones I'm considering, but the choice won't be being made until after the next world, which you wouldn't want- it's a 'dead' world. I'll still need some time to work out how to present the two possibilities to you."

She doesn't look entirely satisfied by this but gives a slow nod.

"That does fulfill our bargain, but-"

Semiramis is clearly about to say more, when there's a spluttering sound next to her as, plate now empty, Artoria coughs, empty glass of enhanced absinthe in hand. Semiramis turns, with a slight smirk, to look at her fellow monarch who clearly did not enjoy her drink. Only for a moment, though, before turning back to me. There's a pause, then she rises, waving her hand dismissively towards me. The plate of food, still on her side of the table, rises with her, carried by magic. I watch the plate a little forlornly- while I no longer had to eat, I still enjoy it.

"You may finish whatever business you have with King Arthur. Then, return to privately appraise me of the worlds that are on offer."

As she leaves, there's a sway to her hips that I hadn't noticed before, though it might have been covered up by her ballgown. It only catches my gaze for a moment, though, before I pull my attention back to Artoria, summoning a glass of water out of the ether for her to clear her throat with.

-

Thankfully, I manage to snag a very simple breakfast- basic cereal with milk made perfectly delicious by my abilities, before we head back to Blackmore. Artoria, having finished her meal before me, does cast the occasional glance at my food, and so I wind up sharing part of it with her. The very slight dribble of white milk from her mouth does bring some very pleasant memories back, and I internally pencil in some more experimentation, preferably tonight.

With our meals done, it's back through the portal to Blackmore. There's a tension in Artoria when she steps through the portal back into the familiar-yet-foreign environment of her false ex-house, but I can feel her shake it off. Neither Gray nor her mother are up yet, and so I set the table, drawing on my memory from last night to locate the cutlery and other crockery. It's a few minutes later when Gray stumbles down the wooden stairs, eyes blinking. Her head hesitantly pokes around the door, seeming to want to confirm that yesterday really happened and we were still there. I greet her with a nod, conjuring the breakfast from my inventory in a motion that draws her gaze.

"I made you some food, if you'd like."

Gray, it seems, would like. I can't tell if it's something to do with the Artoria-link, just her natural inclination or purely the quality of my cooking last night, but she digs into the meal with much gusto. Artoria, meanwhile, drifts away from the table to examine…something on the wall behind me. I leave her to it, focusing on Gray; as she eats, I'm silent and thinking, before coming to a decision. It wasn't optimal, but as I was leaving this world I wanted to give Gray a way to contact me. Out flows a small surge of points, and in another act of conjuration I'm holding a white-and-gold cloak. Gray pauses, fork in hand and mouth full, as I do this. I gesture with the arm holding the cloak.

"This is for you if you'd like. I'm going to be traveling, but if you are ever in trouble- real, serious trouble, put this cloak on and don't resist it's pull and I'll be there to help." I pause for a moment, trying to work out how to best explain everything.

"It's only one use and I can't make another for you, so only use it in real life-or-death danger. If you do have to use it, we can talk about what the next steps are afterwards. I also need to describe what'll happen the instant you do wear it, though I would be able to undo all this when I get-"

Before I can go into the downsides of the Binding there's a pounding on the front door- not an angry banging, but certainly loud and insistent enough to wake anyone who might still be asleep. Gray's eyes dart to the door and she moves to stand while Artoria turns to the door, placing her hand on the hilt of her blade. From the direction Gray entered, I hear movement and Magdalena enters moments later. Her gaze passes over Gray, the food and us, before she moves to the door and opens it.

"Mr Blackmore? Is there something wrong."

"Could I come in?"

The black-coated man who had been our guide is in the doorframe, though he doesn't seem to have his axe on him. Magdalena gives a nod and steps aside and he enters. His gaze flicks across the room and then returns to Magdalena.

"She's dead."

'She'? I'm momentarily at a loss, but the single burst of…joy from Magdalena lets me hazard a guess. Magdalena's face is still emotionless as she looks at Bersac.

"Dead? How?"

"Don't know. Margret wanted to ask her about all this and visited her in the morning, but found her dead in bed. Died with a smile on her face."

Again his eyes flick over the room, lingering on the plate of food before Gray.

"As Gravekeeper, I'd know if anyone left their houses last night. No-one did, far as I could tell, so it looks like she just…naturally passed. Maybe she felt her job here on this earth was done, and just let herself go."

His eyes shift from the plate to me before he turns back to Magdalena. So. Looks like it was the cult leader who died last night after all. There's a moment I feel like this is a mystery; a sudden death happening after two (three? Did Bersac know about Zepia?) new people arrived at the village, with a closed-room scenario formed by Bersac's apparent ability to know if anyone left their dwellings at night? But I can't muster up the energy to care; maybe Bersac was lying and was either the culprit or an accomplice, maybe Zepia did it with a howdunnit that wouldn't alert Bersac while retrieving his contract, maybe she even did die naturally- with what I knew of the potential-victim, I had no motive to find her potential-killer.

-

Bersac leaves shortly after giving us the news, with some words to Gray about having to put off today's training, and Magdalena sits herself at the table, face blank and mind racing. I've conjured up her plate, but she doesn't pay much attention, picking at the food but not actually eating. Gray's finished her breakfast now by now but stays at the table, holding the cloak and looking at her mother.

"Does this change anything?"

A single laugh, accompanied by a head shake, is her response.

"It would have, yesterday, but now the purpose of the village is void. I suppose am her successor, but the position is even more empty than it had been."

"Anything I can do to-"/"Will you require my assistance in-"

Artoria and I speak together, before cutting off as one. We both gesture for the other to speak, but Magdalena cuts in before we can sort that out

"No. No. Thank you for what you've already done, for lifting this burden placed on all of us. If we're to move on as a community this is something we have to do ourselves, without relying on the words on our King."

-

And that basically brings our Blackmore expedition to a close. It isn't that fast, obviously. Artoria and I spend some more time with Gray and Magdalena, explaining the cloak, talking about what-could-have-beens. I also wind up recommending Waver to Gray if she ever visits London and the Clock Tower. Still, with Magdalena wanting to handle the community's future internally, without the influence of the King it had been built to serve there's not much more to actually do. Eventually, the pair of us say our goodbyes to our hosts, exit the house into the crisp and cold morning air, stop by Bersac to tell him we're off and wave goodbye to the rotund priest in front of the church when we pass by. Finally, we leave the village and head down the path we'd arrived from.

Rather than taking the bus back, however, once we're out of sight of the village Artoria opens a portal and the pair of us step through. Inside the pocket dimension I pause a moment; I had intended simply to open the currently closed portal I still had in place right in front of the Clock Tower, where I'd let Mordred and Fran loose on the city. However…that probably would be…not the most diplomatic method of arrival, from the perspective of the Clock Tower.

"Artoria- how bad form would it be to just teleport right into the Clock Tower?"

"It would signal a total disregard for their boundaries and defences. It might be useful in making a point but would certainly not win you any allies."

"Right, thought so. You okay taking a longer walk, then?"

Artoria gives a slight smile and nods.

"Of course. What I did see of Londinium on our first time there did intrigue me; I'm very interested to understand how modern britons live in this era of relative peace."

"Great. Then, hopefully, this'll work-"

I'm reaching out to Mordred as I say this; while my Servant-Master telepathy didn't cross the dimensional barrier of the portal-home, my Conjunction telepathy didn't have that limit.

'Bwh- Master?'

'Yeah. Sorry to bother you, but could you throw open a portal somewhere people won't notice?'

'Yepyepyepyepyepjustgimmeasec-'

Mordred seems unusually flustered. Hmm. I expand my awareness towards the other person with Mordred, only to find Fran…asleep?

'Hey Mordred? What have you two been up to anyways?'

'Nothin'!'

'Sir Mordred. Answer the question truthfully.'

Artoria interjection out of nowhere. I can feel Mordred recoil before pulling herself together.

'We haven't been doing much, honest! We walked the city a bit, taking in modern people and sights- Fran saw those books she wanted so we bought em. And then I figured- we're victorious warriors returning to the capital after a hard battle, right? So, we should have a drink to celebrate. Only, the alcohol here is piss-weak and we had to keep changing bars-'

Oh my god Mordred dragged Fran on a pub crawl. This time it's my turn to recoil, face probably pale. Artoria, for some reason, doesn't seem to get the problem and instead seems quizzical.

'I do not remember you drinking in celebration of our prior victories? You always sat alone, never eating nor drinking. I had assumed you simply did not enjoy such festivities.'

'No offence, Father, but you didn't attend most celebrations- you were always off having to be King. And what celebrations we did share, I couldn't well remove my helmet to drink or eat…'

'So, the only victories you would have celebrated like this would have been-'

Artoria's musing trails off, and there's a very, very awkward pause as the conversation cuts off there. After a few seconds, it's obvious no-one wants to continue down that minefield of a topic, and so I drag it back to before the topic-shift.

'You were…restrained in your pub crawl, I hope?'

Mordred seems to take offense at that.

'Course we were! I mean, the first one or two times might have had some issues, but we got the hang of how normal people this era drink after that. And it didn't last all that long anyways- I guess Fran probably hadn't drunk much before, cause for a Servant she's a lightweight and I've been watching over her since then.'

'How could she get drunk? You both are immune to poison!'

'Oh, that. I kinda turned that off and talked her into doing the same. No point to celebrating like this without the competition, right?'

I can feel a migraine forming and pause to collect myself. Which is when Fran's 'voice' cuts in.

'I'm…never doing this…again.' A pulse of energy as Fran reactivates her Body Defence. 'Wine already was…bad enough…but that was-'

'Come on! You just need ta build up a bit of a-'

'No more…alcohol.'

Mordred seems to be winding up to say more, but Artoria lets out a telepathic 'cough' that instantly pulls her attention.

'Right. Portal. Will do that now- just didn't want to leave Fran alone before.'

-

And like that, we're back in London. As we step through, the first thing I notice is Mordred and Fran's appearances. Fran's is mostly unchanged- still with her hat and white dress, but her clothing is less well-pressed and she's clasping three books to her chest. Mordred is the opposite- she's ditched her black suit, instead going back to her casual look of short jeans, red jacket, tubetop and exposed abs, and while Fran's face is scrunched up, Mordred's is showing no signs of the apparent binge she'd pulled Fran into.

When we're through, Fran slips past us, using the portal to escape back to base while cradling her new books and obviously intent to do some quiet reading. Mordred seems caught between following Fran or staying in London with Artoria and me but Fran solves the dilemma, turning back through the portal and waving Mordred away, thus freeing her of whatever obligation she had felt. As Fran closes the portal behind us, the three of us step out from the alley Mordred has pulled the portal up in and onto the street. Mordred and I keep walking but Artoria pause a moment and turns in place, rotating her neck to take in as much of the modern city as possible. While she's doing this, I look to Mordred.

"So, Mordred. Any idea where we are?"

I'm met with a shrug. "Not really. We mostly just wandered around, you know? Didn't really have a plan or a map. Last major landmark we visited was the Tower over that way. Which turned out to be pretty disappointing- certainly not a real fortification, and the guards were all-"

I tune out Mordred's criticisms of the defensibility of the tourist attraction and look where she'd gestured. Let's see- the Tower was to our left, and with Reinhard's senses I could tell the Thames was ahead of us, and that meant the British Museum was to our right. I wait for a break in Mordred's spiel before speaking.

"Right. The Clocktower is thataway." I gesture in the general direction opposite where Mordred pointed. "We want to head there now?"

Artoria replies before Mordred can.

"You are very familiar with the city, to navigate off such poor intelligence."

"I've been here a few times. And I've always had a very good sense of direction and location, even if I'm bad at compass directions."

Mordred cuts in, ignoring Artoria's dig at her.

"Then you be the guide. I do wanna know more about you, Master- you know about us already. What'd you do last time you were here?"

I…huh. I look to Artoria, but she seems ok with Mordred tagging along and the plan had been for me to show Artoria some of London... Ok then, whirlwind tour is a go.

"I can do that. Ok if I start where I lived during my last visit? It shouldn't be that far from here- just up and to the right."

-

"Right, so this is the Barbican. It's-"

"It's amazing! Why aren't the other buildings more like this- a walled complex with features inside, like a small castle."

"Well, some people don't like the brutalist architecture style. They think it's just cold, dead piles of concrete, with no art or expression."

"...You lost me."

Right. Well. Artoria saves me from having to go down that rabbit hole.

"You lived here?"

"Not here exactly, but a block away. I came here a few times- this place has a theater, so I saw Henry V here for example."

Artoria pauses, waiting for some elaboration, while Mordred turns around from her exploration of the complex and throws out a guess.

"That's a Shakespeare play, right?"

"Yes, actually. One of the ones he wrote about the 100 Year War."

"Hey, that's the war Ruler was part of! He wrote about her?"

I nod at Mordred's words, then grimace. Right. Shakespeare's take on Jeanne was…well it was something alright. Probably best not to bring that up around her- no wonder the pair didn't get along in Apocrypha.

"She wasn't in that specific play, which was about the start of the war; Jeanne's involvement came at the end."

-

After a bit more back-and-forth about the Hundred Year War, I lead the group to my old apartment in Charterhouse Square, then retrace my usual walk to St Paul's Cathedral, chatting all the while. This early in the morning, the backstreets I head down are fairly empty of both cars and pedestrians, but as expected the area around St Paul's is already beginning to draw people. Circling the cathedral, I come to the spot where I'm in between St Paul's and the Globe Theater, just visible down the street and across the Millennium Bridge. Artoria is still taking in the sights, entranced by the ground-view of a major modern city, so I leave her to that and head over to Mordred, who has gone off on her own to watch Artoria. The sight of the Globe, and Mordred's prior questions prompts mine as I lean back against the same wall Mordred is resting on.

"How was Shakespeare, by the way?"

This time it's Mordred who grimaces.

"I gave him your message and he understood it, if that's what you meant. Other than that, he was a pain. I don't see why you liked him so much- his works were trash and he deserved worse than I gave him."

"His works- oh. He Folio'd you?" Prior to this, Mordred had been fairly cagey about what exactly had happened in the Garden, other than that she cut down Shakespeare. I'd assumed something he'd said had gotten under her skin, but if she'd experienced a play of his then…

"Yeah, he did. But- Well, his plays might be shit, at least he gave me something to think about."

"Anything you need help with?"

"Nah. If I stick around with Father long enough, it should work itself out."

I place my hand on her shoulder in a gesture of support, but she immediately shrugs it off with an eyeroll. I return a smile, and then the pair of us turn towards Artoria, who has finished her exploration of this area and is coming towards us, face showing a clear expression of joy that I can feel Mordred respond to in kind, even if she works not to let it show.

-

From St Pauls and the Globe we head right, past the Courts and into Covent Garden. Here, so close to the Museum, I can feel the magic charge of the passive defences of the Clock Tower. My Servants feel it also, and the mood between the three of us shifts into something more serious. Gone are any questions about my past, or touristy investigations of London. As we pass through the district, I can sense bursts of magic as I assume sentries scattered through the suburb notice and report on our movement towards the Clock Tower.

Telepathically, Mordred reaches out to the pair of us.

'Right, didn't ask; you guys got whatever you were doing out of London?'

I'm about to explain, when Artoria just raises her empty right hand and, for less than a tenth second, the glowing lance of Rhongomyniad appears and disappears. The appearance was faster than most cameras could capture but Mordred manages to get a glimpse and physically recoils, one hand moving to her torso.

'Ah great, you got that back.'

'I have indeed retrieved my lance. And in doing so, we uncovered and disarmed another malicious plot of Morgan.'

'She was up to more bullshit? Even after you were dead and Camelot had fallen? What a bitch. I take back what I said before- that shitty Empress isn't even half as bad as Morgan.'

'I cannot disagree with your sentiments. The latest plan was unusually beyond the pale. It certainly could not have gained her anything, beyond the pain her desecrations would have caused.'

While Artoria and Mordred…bond? over dunking on Morgan, I decide to bring up the other thing we did.

'We also saved the world. Maybe. Or at least removed a threat to it.'

'Saved the- You were here a day!'

I don't verbally respond, but Mordred can feel my smugness, and her annoyance only grows as she gives me the stink-eye when it's clear I'm not going to elaborate. As we round the corner of the block and the British Museum comes into view, Artoria decides to go in for what she thinks will be the killing blow, her hand sneaking forward to grab mine as she looks at Mordred with a glint of triumph in her eye.

'We also have continued our courtship, with all that entails. It seems I am perfectly capable of understanding romance.'

I can sense what Artoria's up to, so when she moves to kiss me I'm already there, my lips meeting hers. There's a stutter-step from Mordred, but only that. No big outbursts or anything like what had happened back in Trifas. Instead, after a few more moment's silence Mordred gives a nod before reaching out to me specifically with our telepathy just as Artoria and I break away, cheeks flushed red.

'I guess, after all this, I can accept that. Provisionally. I won't be calling you Mother though, even if you get with Father. And you better keep her happy!'

-

Entering the Clock Tower with two Servants this time gets people moving fairly quickly, but rather than being led back to Waver's room we're instead met by a thin, blonde-haired man with a white suit who eventually, after repeated apologies, tells us that Waver isn't actually in the building at the moment. Apparently he had classes today in another campus and he had refused to cancel two days in a row 'just' to put up with me. Which, you know, fair. I assure the man that there's no problem and I can feel his body loosen up from tension. Finally, I get around to the topic of the visit and ask him if there had been any progress on my request, whereupon he hands me a brown paper package, tied up with string. I tear it open to find a stack of paper, covered in dense text.

"Lord El-Melloi said this was what you were looking for." The man hesitates a moment, something on his mind, while I'm happily surprised at the speed this happened- I'd come for a progress update and to give Waver a way to contact me when it was ready, and hadn't thought it'd be ready immediately.

"Anything else?"

"Oh, no. He just- well, he just said that this would have been a lot more of a pain to get if someone hadn't already dredged the archives for them recently. He wanted me to make clear that just because we collected this quickly didn't make it simple."

Someone pulled this up recently- Ah. Crap. I flick through the paper, and the words that I see are familiar. I let the paper fall onto the table we're all sitting at with a dull thud.

"Darnic was the one who requested this, I'm guessing?"

There's a pause, followed by a small shrug from the man. Still, I'm sure I'm right- the notes I've gotten are just the information Jeanne had received from the deceased leader of Black. There's nothing new here, which itself isn't disappointing but I'd hoped for there to be at least a second source to back this one up. I guess this field isn't one that can be explored in much detail.

"Well, thanks for this. It isn't exactly what I'd hoped for, but just knowing this is all the information on the topic is itself good."

The man nods, but clearly doesn't get what I'm talking about; given the sealed nature of the papers, he probably doesn't even know what this is about.

"Anyways, please thank Waver for this, and wish him luck with his class."

-

With this last bit of information secured, our business in the Clock Tower, and indeed London is over. From there, it's back to Trifas to actually begin the process of making the Wish. There's a moment where I consider using the time Atalanta and Jeanne had given me to visit Fuyuki to check in on Sakura Edelfelt and that pile of shenanigans, or to head over to the Isle of Skye to try and find a way to reach Scáthach, but no. Atlanta and Jeanne had given me that time to make sure the Wish was formed properly, not to wander around the world to vacuum up every possible point or companion.

Which is how I find myself wandering into a forest clearing, alone for the first time in a while. Artoria and Mordred had both broken off once we'd entered the pocket dimension, leaving me to head over to where Atlanta had been keeping vigil the past few days. The Archer must have noticed my approach, silent as it is, because she's standing in the clearing before the Grail rather than concealed somewhere in the clearing with bow ready just in case someone tried to steal it at the last minute.

"Master." For an instant, her cheeks seem to blush red, standing out against her pale skin.

"Atalanta. I'm back from London- the info we got from Ruler seems to be accurate."

A flicker of earth magic, and two basic seats and a table pull themselves from the ground. I take my seat, and after a pause Atalanta takes the other. I grab an apple from my inventory and underhand it to Atalanta, her black-furred claw easily plucking the fruit from the air. As she munches down, sharpened teeth tearing through the green skin, I pull a pencil and A4 paper we'd started our brainstorming on from my coat pocket and place them on the table.

"So, that being the case, we should work on what we want to happen to children under the age of eight."

"You said before there might need to section off parts of the Wish to apply differently. Your resource example got me thinking; something like "good parents get enough resources to care for their children, bad parents have their children taken care of by people who would take care of the children, who also get enough resources."?"

It's…something. I pause, finger tapping on the tabletop before I pick up the pencil. Let's see if I can streamline this. I draw lines through what we've written and start again, and after a few attempts have gotten something approaching a template.

[Parents of all human children under the age of eight, who would care for the physical and emotional wellbeing of said children will always, through acts of chance, have sufficient resources to provide for their family. The resources required for this are to be provided by the Grail.]

With this down, I tap my pencil on the paper before looking to Atalanta.

"Would you be ok with a result similar to yours?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, I can only really see two paths: Path One, we 'change' bad parents into good ones. Path Two, we set up a system to place children with caregivers who would care for them, like how you were first saved by divine intervention and then raised by hunters."

Here Atalanta is silent, considering.

"You think the second is better?"

"I think keeping as far away from altering humanity as possible is best, and the result of each path should be the same; children would be raised by caring parents. Here. Lemme just…"

[Children of parents who would not care for their emotional or physical wellbeing, who would cause their child lasting harm either through intentional malice or wilful neglect will, through acts of chance, find their way into the care of the nearest adult able and willing to care for them. These new caregivers will, like the first set of parents, always have enough resources to care for these new children in addition to any children they might already have, so as to ensure the new caregivers are no worse off for accepting the responsibility of caring for these new children.

These changes will not be able to be noticed by mankind.]

When I'm done, I flip the paper around and slide it across to Atalanta, who grabs it, reading my paragraph once, twice, three times before looking up to me.

"The last line is also to prevent 'humanity' changing?"

"That, and I don't want groups to notice 'good' parents will always have 'just enough' and so put the squeeze on them to steal that constant excess for themselves."

"Mankind. That would happen, wouldn't it?"

I shrug- I can't defend us on this issue, not when I'm the one who pointed it out. Eventually, Atalanta's claw comes to rest on a sentence.

"What's stopping the bad parents grabbing back their children from the new parents?"

Hm. I reach over to the paper, bring it back to me, think for a moment, and then stick a clause on the end of the main paragraph.

[Attempts by the harmful parents to reclaim their children from these new families will be guaranteed to fail, through acts of chance, in ways that bring no harm to the child or new parents.]

Atalanta takes it again and reads it, nodding.

"It seems…workable, to be sure. At least as a framework."

Well, this was about as much as I could do; it was Atalanta's Wish, after all, and my ideas were not the be-all and end-all. I'd done what I could, told her the requirements to make a Wish, warned her of the potential dangers involved in making a Wish. With the scope of the Timelocks known and looming, I was sure that Atalanta wouldn't risk every single child in this world but now it really came down to her and how she'd like to proceed.

"My only other advice would be to ask some of the others for their advice; I'm certain I'll have missed something, and they might cover that or give you other improvements or ideas to use."

Atalanta turns, throwing a look back behind her at the Grail, and I can tell what she's concerned about.

"If you'd like, I'm willing to throw up some defences and stand guard while you do that."

"In that case, I take advantage of your offer, Master."

-

When Atalanta leaves, I use my earth magic to throw up a bubble of solid rock all around the Grail, engulfing the massive orb in an even larger sphere. I even send the rock underground, just to cover all my bases. With that done, I begin to circle the earthen sphere, trusting Reinhard's instincts to make up for the multi-tasking I'm about to do. As I walk, I reach out telepathically towards the less-permanent members of White who have yet to learn of our near-future exit from the world. I also specifically contact Caules and Fiore to update them as to the results of my negotiations with the Clock Tower.

When that's done, and Atalanta still shows no sign of returning, I begin to collect my thoughts on how to best explain the setting of Awakening's Bad Future and Akame Ga Kill's Empire for Semiramis specifically. Dynasty Warriors' Three Kingdoms era China should be easy to explain; Servants get at least a basic infodump on Heroes from other times and places, and I remember for sure that Lu Bu was a Servant in the Extra games. There'd be differences, but the basic setting concept should be easy. The other two, though, would require some explanation. I pull out a notepad and pencil out of my pocket-inventory and get to work, splitting my attention between note taking and sentry duty.

Thankfully, the clearing remains still and quiet for the duration, and it's as I'm wrapping up my note-taking that I sense Atalanta approaching. My notepad returns to my inventory pocket, and with my ability to feel her location and direction I manage to spot her, silver hair weaving through the forest. Moments later, she arrives in the clearing where I'm waiting.

"Got everyone to chip in?"

"Not everyone- Rider, for example, wasn't asked, and after what you said about Ruler neither was she. And some suggestions were rejected. But it's enough. It has to be enough."

Atalanta's looking past me at the wall of earth, but she's clearly not looking at that either and is instead focused on the Grail it's obscuring. I take in a deep breath, and then let it out. Right. I guess this is it.

"I'll…see about finding and bringing Ruler here, then we can do it. Alright?"

No verbal response but a short, sharp nod. I take another breath, then turn around to find Jeanne.

-

Finding Jeanne is not an especially difficult task; during the days we'd been together while I waited for the Magus Association to authorize our visit, Jeanne had fallen into a pretty easy to follow pattern; Most of the day she spent in Trifas, looking after people as best she could. When she wasn't doing that, she sometimes shared Grail guard duties with Atalanta, though I wasn't sure if they actually talked or otherwise interacted. She joined us all for meals but slept at the Church at night. And when she wasn't doing any of that, she was…

The Saint is found reclining on a beach towel on top of the white sand of the beach, luxuriating in the sun and waves. She's clad not in her armor, nor her casual clothing but in a white, form-fitting one-piece swimsuit that is very similar to her Grand Order summer outfit. Her hair, normally braided, is done in a high ponytail and, though I have no idea if she actually needs them, she's wearing a pair of glasses. She hears or otherwise senses my approach and turns her upper body, bright smile on her face.

"Oh, hello Reinhard. Or, rather, Aloha!"

"Aloha yourself. Glad to see you're still enjoying this."

"I feel sure I will never tire of this! The sound of the waves, the gentle breeze, your food. Even just seeing the ocean would have been enough for me; this is all more than I had dared hope for! I even made a new friend!"

A new-? Wha? Had she and Astolfo somehow been getting along? Had Semiramis descended from her tower to the beach and chatted with the Saint? I'm about to ask, when a clicking trill cuts in from the water. There, just off the beach, is the grey-white skin of a…dolphin?

What. I look at Jeanne, who seems quite content, leaning back on her arms behind her while looking at the animal.

"Um…What? Where did that come from?"

Jeanne seems taken aback at my surprise.

"I had thought you selected the creatures to inhabit this world?"

"I…I thought I did too, but I hadn't gotten around to populating the water yet? All my time creating wildlife was focused on the forests for Atalanta."

The dolphin gives another trill, and this one seems mocking of all noises. I turn back to glare at it, and it dives beneath the water with a flick of its tail. Jeanne just beatifically smiles again.

"Then it must be a miracle from God."

I'm still glaring at the dolphin, able to make it out under the crystal-clear water even as it dives deeper. I knew of Summer Jeanne and her dolphins and sharks, of course, but that wasn't an explanation for this- Jeanne still hadn't joined, and so shouldn't have been able to affect the inhabitants of the pocket island. "Yeah. I guess."

"Well, if it is not yours, I suppose I may name him. Though he is 'un Dauphin', I cannot quite bring myself to call it Charles…"

I groan, running my hand through my hair. "Please don't name your pet a pun."

Jeanne lets out a giggle, pulling back her arms and letting herself lie back on the towel.

"To experience all this, even after my death, is a blessing I am truly grateful for. I believe Laeticia is grateful too."

Speaking of- "How's the progress on her homework going? If you're here now, does that mean you finished it finally?" She'd been evasive on the subject during the days I'd been in Trifas, but maybe she'd gotten around it when I'd been in England.

Her expression shows a burst of worry, but she quickly smothers it, looking out at the ocean.

"Unfortunately not. I came here to take a break from it-" and the way her eyes dart makes it abundantly clear that that was…stretching the truth at best "-but there is no need to worry. I will certainly finish it in the three days until you make your Wish. I even did some preparation and acquired these glasses to make me feel studious!"

With one hand, Jeanne pushes down on the back of the glasses, raising them off her nose a centimetre and letting them fall before nodding, seemingly satisfied with her answer. This, more than any prior interaction I've had with her, dissipates any still-lingering worries about her and her values going forward; after all, the words might be different, but the tone and subject are all too familiar. Jeanne had only been 19 when she died, and I suppose putting off homework until the last minute is the sort of thing that transcends eras.

Unfortunately, I guess I have to break the bad news that the due date moved up without warning.

"About that; I finished early. Atalanta is ready to make her Wish now. I came to collect you for that, actually."

Jeanne freezes at this.

"Ah."

"Yeah. Sorry to break the mood, but-"

"No. No it is alright. My duty must take priority."

I both see and hear Jeanne let out a sigh as she stands. The movement draws my eyes to her body, and I can't help but appreciate the curves the swimsuit displays; while she isn't quite up there with Artoria or Semiramis, both of whom I'd recently gotten good looks at for my comparison, Jeanne is still obviously, supernaturally hot.

"What on earth did they feed peasants in France back then?"

"I mostly ate pottage, normally with bread and light beer. Why do you ask? Do you wish to cook something for me? While I very much enjoy modern food, I'm sure I would also enjoy more familiar dishes and it is nearly lunchtime."

It's only when Jeanne replies that I realize I must have spoken out loud. I wave my hand to move on.

"Oh, never mind."

There's a trilling laugh from the water, and the two of us turn to find the as-yet-unnamed trespasser dolphin snickering. Jeanne gives it a smile and a wave while I just stare at it- from what I can tell, it's just a normal dolphin that isn't reading as supernatural at all, but that just makes it all the weirder. As I'm focused on that mystery there's a small flash next to me as Ruler's armor flashes into existence, replacing her swimsuit and glasses with her the equipment of her Class and I pull myself back to the serious matter at hand.

"Well then, let us complete the ritual and formally end the War."

-

As the earthen defences begin to sink back into the ground, I feel my gaze drawn to Atalanta. The Archer is still not paying any attention to anything else, staring straight at the Grail with all her focus. Just with my passive connection I can't make out the specifics but I can feel her repeating 'something', likely her Wish, over and over and over again. Ruler also stands straight and to attention, but she lacks the monomaniacal focus of Archer; the feeling I get from her is closer a combination of resignation, and the relief at the imminent lifting of a heavy burden.

When the last curve of stone is cleared, Ruler lets out a deep breath and speaks, with voice so different that I can't help but turn just to confirm it really is Jeanne speaking. Gone is the casual whimsy on the beach, or even the relative seriousness she had had during the War. Now, her voice is commanding, a mix of preacher and military officer demanding attention.

"O victors of this Holy Grail War, before you lies your prize." Jeanne raises her hand, pointing towards the immense Sphere of the Greater Grail, and specifically towards the single shining speck of gold held aloft by the enormous statues I assume to be of Justeaze von Einzbern. Her outreached finger turns from pointing to upraised palm, and the golden light draws itself from the Greater Grail to flow, unstoppably, towards her hand.

And there it is. The golden cup of the Lesser Grail, the terminal used to actually make the Wishes. Gently, Jeanne takes the cup in both hands and holds it out towards the pair of us. There's movement to my side, as I feel Atalanta draw close, and I see her silver hair out of the corner of my left eye. A moment later, I feel her hand close around mine, and I give hers a light squeeze of reassurance before we both raise our hands to grasp the golden cup proffered by Jeanne.

Even as I feel the surprisingly cold metal beneath my fingers, I blink and am no longer in the forest clearing. Instead, Atalanta and I find ourselves in an alien landscape. The sky is an unnatural blue, and the ground is an endless sea of flowers, white and pink and yellow and orange and more extends seemingly forever, contrasting with the deep blue sky. The only patches of ground to lack flowers are strange, blue-rock protrusions jutting up from the ground in a way that brings to mind either mountains or icebergs. By my side, I feel Atalanta tense, letting go of my hand and raising her arm as if to summon her bow. Nothing appears in it, but there's only a moment of shock before she stops her attempt to conjure her weapon and instead extends her claws.

I'm still looking around the field when there's a change; a glowing light like a star appearing at torso-level. Around that star, a figure shimmers into view, and the appearance, the absurd dress and crown, the red eyes and flowing white hair, the porcelain skin and doll-like expression instantly tells me who this is.

"You are the final Master and his chosen Servant and have thus won the Greater Grail War."

I nod, but Atalanta raises her arm between me and the new arrival, as if to protect me.

"Who are you?"

"Justeaze von Einzbern, I presume."

Justeaze pauses a moment. And not the pause of a real person who is stopping to arrange their thoughts, but far closer to a paused recording. Her whole body just…freezes in place before she looks to me.

"Not precisely. I am simply an imitation of the individual once called Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern."

As she says this, there are small, almost imperceptible moments where she flickers, as if some machine that was projecting her is being turned off and on again very quickly.

"The individual once called Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern was completely sublimated into this Greater Holy Grail. I exist to serve as a terminal, to allow for communication between the Grail and the victors of the War. Still, you may refer to me as Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern if that would ease this process."

This throws me a moment; I was sure Juteaze was still at least somewhat conscious inside the Greater Grail. I remember that she was the one who possessed Ilya, forcing Zouken to accept his own death by reminding him of their shared goal and how far he had degraded from wanting to save others. Still, Atalanta doesn't notice that I'm lost in thought, instead striding forwards towards the shimmering Justeaze copy.

"If you're the terminal for the Grail, then you're the one I have to tell my Wish to?"

Faux-Justeaze has only just started to nod when Atalanta once more speaks, words almost tumbling from her mouth as she tries to say it all at once.

"My wish is to ensure that children are, as much as possible, raised with love. Parents of all human children under the age of eight-"

The white figure holds up a hand, and Atalanta's speech is cut off. Not that Atalanta cuts herself off, but as if Atalanta has been frozen in place, muted and rendered unable to speak. At this fairly casual display, my eyes narrow at the imitation Justeaze. She doesn't seem to notice my sudden concern, instead shaking her head, slowly.

"I must first explain something, victors of this War. Once I have done so, only then will I be able to listen to the Wish. Due to the circumstances of this Great Holy Grail War, much of the energy has been drained from the Greater Grail. Seven additional Servants had to be summoned from the reserves of the Grail and then, during the war, the energy of many of the Servants was lost. The Grail has accumulated enough power for a single Wish, and once this is done it will require many years to recharge and allow the ritual to occur again."

I still can't make out Atalanta's face as this is said, but I can see faux-Justeaze's gaze flick to my arm, where my Command Spells are. As if she expects…well, the obvious solution to this, especially given the true purpose of the Command Spells. But while the thought does academically occur to me, I'd never be able to stomach a betrayal of that magnitude. Still, the fact that she could anticipate that…

"You aren't a simple terminal, are you? You've a consciousness, of sorts. You definitely aren't Justeaze?"

"I am not. But I am a precise imitation of her, down to every single detail."

If that were true, if this was a precise copy of Justeaze's body, mind, and soul, I suppose the general detachment displayed was not the result of this person not being an individual but merely a quirk of Justeaze. And that also means that this 'terminal' Justeaze is as much a person as the original Justeaze- insert one of Fate's various "A Copy Isn't Lesser" speeches here. And that means my plan can go ahead. Even as I think that I wave my hand, moving the conversation along.

"Well, in any case, I freely give my wish to Atalanta. Mine was always going to be supplementary to hers, or entirely personal. Let her make the world a better place."

And, for the first time, Justeaze shows an emotion; her eyes widen in a single moment of simple, incomprehensible shock before they return to their prior blank state. Or that's what I see at first, but on closer examination there's a very slight smile gracing Justeaze's face that wasn't there before.

"Very well. Archer, do you accept this?" I can see Atalanta give a single, short nod. "Then take my hand and let me understand your wish."

An all-too pale hand reaches out, meeting the dark-furred claw of Atalanta. Palm and fingers meet, as Justeaze directs her attention to Atalanta, still with her back to me. The moment hangs in the air, seeming to go on for minutes even though I feel that time isn't real in this place. Finally, they separate, Atalanta's other hand coming up to rub hers while Justeaze's simply flicks to her side as if the frames between the positions was skipped.

When Atalanta turns, there's a smile of such joy and relief that I can't help but smile too. She's managed to do it. Before I can say anything to her, I feel a tug, and the landscape begins to shimmer as Justeaze's figure begins to fade. Before she can, I raise my hand and the feeling stops. Justeaze looks to me, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, victorious Master?"

"Justeaze, if I may call you that. I'll be quick, but I have an offer for you-"

-

My eyes open, and I'm back in the clearing. The cup that I had been touching is gone, and Ruler is looking at the two of us, head slightly tilted. I move to speak, when a warm, fuzzy missile impacts into me from the side. From the fallen foliage littering the ground, I look up to see the silver-black of Atalanta's dress and fur as she mounts me before leaning down to embrace me instead. Her eyes are shining with tears of joy, and her voice has changed from its usual reservation to one of pure relief and happiness.

"Master, we did it! My wish was made! Children will be saved-"

My hands snake around her to embrace her in turn, one hand around her waist pulling her close while the other reaches to the top of her head. I intend to just pat her, but as my fingers trail over her ears I can't help but give them a scritch at their base. As I do, beneath my other arm I feel Atalanta's body push into mine, to the point where I can easily feel Atalanta's figure, her wiry muscles and lithe form. I pause for a moment, just in case, but when Atalanta twists her head into my hand to better let my fingers work, I resume.

Behind the pair of us, there's a light but very attention-grabbing cough. Right, Jeanne. I feel Atalanta's body pull in a breath before she begins to disentangle herself and stand. Once she's free, I also climb to my feet, my eyes still on the silver catgirl with a smile that she reciprocates.

"Master. Soon I will be challenging you and Artoria to a race. Be prepared for all that entails."

Well now. Well now well now. Another cough, even more insistent, and I turn to face Jeanne, though I'm fairly sure my expression is still a goofy grin. Jeanne isn't in quite the victorious afterglow we are, but she's still clearly happy for us. Her gaze flicks between the two of us, before landing on Atalanta.

"I take it you have made your wish."

"I have. Thank you, Ruler. I know you disagreed with my Wish, but nonetheless I am more grateful than you can possibly know that you allowed it to be made."

A small shake of the head.

"I could not have done anything else. Still, I am glad you are so overjoyed. Is there anything else to be done here?"

Here, I step in.

"Yes. We talked to the spirit of the Grail, and she accepted my offer. There will be no more Holy Grail Wars, nor Servants summoned to fight one another."

Even as I speak, my jacket begins to unravel, spreading itself beyond gossamer thin, stretching to the point where even its supernatural durability would be broken with even the slightest movement of resistance. But the object I'm enveloping cannot move. The white threads, many times thinner than a human hair, balloon out and cover the mass of the Greater Grail. As the last thread falls into place there's movement, the structure of the Greater Grail beginning to collapse in on itself. The cloth collapses with it, pulling itself tighter and thicker as the Grail shifts down to the size of a single woman. Then, like a magic trick, the cloth pulls itself away back around my shoulders, and the unnaturally pale, inhumanly beautiful figure of Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern stands where the large orb of the Grail once had.

Jeanne looks to me, face one of clear surprise. I suppose I should explain.

"One way or another, I wasn't going to allow more Grail Wars. I'm soon to leave this world, and I know how easily the Grail can, even accidentally, endanger the world. I also knew of Justeaze, who became the core of the Grail in the earnest hope of bringing about a utopia. So, I talked with her and incarnated her out of the Grail."

Here, Justeaze speaks, with soft voice that is slightly different from how she sounded in the Grail Dimension, where she'd had no physical body.

"If the mass salvation the Grail was founded to preform is impossible, I will choose to walk the earth, crafting lesser miracles to alleviate individual suffering."

"And can such miracles occur? Without those Quantum Time Locks ending the world?"

"I have been informed me of that phenomenon. But the World would take steps to stop the problem at the source; if the World determines me a threat, it may end my life as it wishes. Until then, I offer what salvation I can." Justeaze's passive face changes to sport a single, very slight smile. "Still, this shouldn't occur instantly. Even with this endless supply of mana it will take me several years to weave even a minor miracle. At best I will be able to assist one human a decade. But if that is all I can do, that is what I shall do."

"You do not wish to travel with Reinhard?"

A shake of the head causes the floor-length pure white hair to brush away fallen leaves.

"No. Archer's Wish currently flows from me into the World, and while it will eventually take root and become the common sense of the world that process will take weeks. And once that has occurred, I am content to explore this world. A single world, with all its wonder, will be enough for one who has spent her life trapped behind walls of stone."

Jeanne continues to talk with Justeaze, but my attention shifts away from them as Atalanta moves to my side. We stand quietly, just looking at the gap where the Greater Grail had been. With a thought, I flick on my ability to visualize mana and watch as countless golden motes of power flow out into the world around us, changing the world for the better.

Notes:

And that about does it for Apocrypha. As I mentioned in-story, I was originally going to do more here, visiting the Isle of Skye and or even Fuyuki but…well, I didn't want to just drag this out past this chapter, and this chapter is already too bloated. If Rein ever needs a mostly-plot-cleared world for a vacation, or an immediate point injection or is in dire need of hoping for the sub-1% gacha-chance of rolling Scáthach then he can always come back later, but for now things should keep moving.

Semi being Semi is no real surprise (it's the only lever she's found so yeah, she's going to use it). Back in Blackmore Gray is left a parting gift but other than that Artoria's business at Blackmore is over, which is a relief for everyone involved. Bersac 100% thinks Rein killed Granny (he knows that no-one left their houses, but also knows that the food in front of Gray was made with ingredients that weren't in the house last night so…) but oh well. The London walk was planned entirely through my memory before I confirmed it on google maps and was just glad I was right- it would have been funny but embarrassing if Rein'd just been outright wrong about the directions. Waver blows Rein off to actually do his job, while Rein, without thinking, throws whichever poor archivist owed Darnic a favour under the Magus Association Policy On Traitors bus.

Then it became about the Wish- first talking with Atalanta about the overall framework, then she talks with the others about how they'd do it (and I'll admit they're offscreen because if I could think of their changes I'd have implemented them in mine, which is a downfall of SI fics I guess). Then slight banter between Jeanne and Rein and then onto the Finale.

Some people in-thread worked out Rein's plan to 'solve' the Grail a few chapters ago, so good job to them. Characterizing Justeaze was a bit tricky, in that we don't have much on her other than other people's views on her, the bit towards the end of HF and the bit towards the end of FA. FA Justeaze also directly says she's just a copy of Justeaze, but from my perspective she'd need to be a damn good copy to KO Zouken with only a few words. Wandering Personal Miracle Bringer Justeaze also gives me a potential out towards characters I'd have a hard time with such as Jeanne and Astolfo, though I can't help but feel Astolfo'd certainly prefer visiting new worlds with Arthur and A (Ex?-)Knight Of The Round.

Next chapter will be an interlude/epilogue-for-Apocrypha/prologue-for-next-section discussing the worlds, having some less-objective-focused character interactions (race etc) as well as decisions regarding multiversal travel- for example, Kairi had signed up for new worlds, his plan being to raise his daughter out of the MA's reach, but he was assuming more along the lines of Nasu Parallel Worlds where things were slightly different; I really doubt he'd want to take his daughter to live in the aftermath of Grima's global omnicide, or in the AgK Empire for example.