The One Who Punches

"How did I get here again?" Nicholas rubbed the back of his head in confusion, looking around at empty fields of green with purple eyes that shined in curiosity and childish excitement, "Did I get drugged and dumped?!"

He quickly pulled up his black t-shirt and felt around his stomach, pinching some of the fat on it to check for any extra pain or surgical indents or stitches and released a small sigh in relief when everything was in order.

Nicholas noticed he was wearing the same plain black t-shirt and blue jeans he had gone to bed in and once again found himself completely confused, he'd come back home after a tiring (boring) day of lectures and library studies, the only highlight being his gym session because nothing was more rewarding and addictive than the grind.

Especially because he practised it with religious fervour solely for beating the ever-living shit out of anything and everything that tried to fuck with his way of being. People lied when they said violence solved no problems but even he found it strange how he was able to get away with it most of the time.

Anyway, he digressed.

Nicholas found his mind wandering to the ever-popular themes of transmigrating with bullshit powers, getting a ton of chicks infatuated with you and living happily ever after while not having the guts to even talk to them proper *ehem*, the teenager sheepishly rubbed his nose.

There was grass as far as he could see, a small hill or two here and there, and a few trees all around.

That was it.

Nothing stood out.

Nothing at all.

Except for the giant cock ring in the sk-

The sky blew the fuck up and he blacked out for a few seconds, now finding himself standing knee-deep in thick snow with more piling on every second. He couldn't see further than he could stretch his arms and snow constantly got into his face, stopping him from seeing even that.

The change in scenery was so sudden that it took Nicholas a full minute to get over his shock and realise he didn't even feel the cold that should've by all means made him into a human popsicle within seconds.

Almost involuntarily, the pale haired teenager punched out, his go-to reaction to anything he didn't understand or found annoying and shockingly, he blew a hole through the snow in front of him, clearing both the snow covering the ground and the snow that had been falling onto his face. Unintentionally, he had thrown an uppercut and even more unintentionally, that managed to blow a hole into the clouds covering the sky, letting rays of the evening Sun sneak through. on

His reaction to that was,

"Neat."

With a face stuck in an eternal deadpan that often betrayed his tone, Nicholas was known among his peers as the man closest to a comic character for his colourless hair (Marie Antoinette Syndrome) and lackadaisical disposition. His parents claimed he'd come out of the womb deadpanning, stupefying the doctor responsible for his delivery.

They were proud of him by the way, while whether he was intelligent or not was up for debate, he never forgot anything he'd heard or seen. That made maintaining grades easy and with a genetic predisposition to quickly losing fat and building muscle, he had won the metaphorical lottery.

So what if he'd punched his cousin when she, yes, SHE wanted him to play dress up as a kid?

So what if he'd kicked his maths teacher?

He put his hands together and closed his eyes, "Thank you God."

There was no other explanation for it.

He'd been transmigrated with absurdly super strength.

Or he was high off his fucking mind.

He preferred the former situation.

The few Sun rays that made it through the opening in the sky fell onto a massive metal structure, "What's the goddamn point of having lights if they don't work for shit?" Dim lights lined the facility, lights he'd missed in the snowstorm.

A rather funny thought crossed his mind.

What if he'd punched towards it and not the sky?

Before his train of thoughts could go towards dangerous possibilities, a number of lights were turned on, "Mah eyes..." Pointing directly at his face, "You people are monsters. What did I even do?"

"You are surrounded! Surrender immediately!"

"Geh, cops."

Wait cops?

There were cops on snowy mountains in the middle of nowhere?

Just what else was the government hiding?!

Nicholas turned his head sideways and cast a glance behind him, slowly raising his hands in feigned surrender, "Alright, take me in but give me my call." That seemed the better option considering he was standing on the edge of a steep cliff... mountain.

Just what sick fuck had dropped him here?

If he'd walked instead of punched, he'd have fallen off the edge.

 Not that he ever would but still...

When the 'cops' approached him, he noticed that they were in full hiking gear, the sort used by people who climbed Mount Everest and such, just where had he been dropped? Also what was the point of showing him a greenland?

-

Nicholas quickly found himself escorted through a futuristic metal sliding door and into a barely lit dark room with a single metal table with two chairs on either side of it, a single glass of water that was totally not drugged lay on the table.

Nicholas just sighed and took a seat, he'd been through this enough times before.

The security cuffed him before exiting the room.

What he'd not been through numerous times before was a gay, lanky looking, walmart twilight vampire looking ass motherfucker with a girly goatee wearing a red dress shirt and black pants being his interrogator.

"What business do you have near Chaldea?"

And suddenly, like a 2 am thought, Nicholas realised where he was.

Giant cock ring in a blue sky, Chaldea.

He was in Fate Grand Order.

Well shit.

He'd only watched the movies.

"Dunno what you're talking about."

"Dear... I assure you, lying is going to get you nowhere. We have all the time in the world to play if you want." The 'interrogator' did something that made Nicholas' heart sink. He slowly 'gently' caressed teenager's face with his thin, gloved fingers, "I love all sorts of people~ and torture just happens to be my specialty~."

Mechanically, Nicholas turned to face one of the walls and spoke like some part of him had just died,

"You should get a doctor."

-

"Doctor!"

Doctor Roman 'Romani Archaman' was watching a stream from his beloved Magi Mari on his personal phone when a flustered member of Chaldea's staff rushed into his room, surprising the doctor to the point where he jolted, fell out of his chair, and hit his head on the metal table extending from the, surprise, metal wall, while his phone flew out of his hand and fell into the garbage can near his table.

"Ow..." The ginger pitifully rubbed his bruised forehead, before realising his position and quickly sorting himself out, "What happened?"

"Well sir, it's Beryl Gut."

"Did he try to get his hands on Mash again?" Romani asked seriously, forgetting his pain.

He knew Chaldea was an organisation meant to protect humanity from it's extinction in the near future but sometimes, he doubted if they actually needed some of the more eccentric individuals that come up as compatible for the FATE system used to summon servants.

Case and point, Beryl Gut.

The man was a torturer, and notorious serial killer who had about a year ago, entered an innocent girl's room and started breaking each of her fingers one by one, till Romani stopped him and using his authority as head of the medical department, forbade him from ever approaching her.

Did they really need him?

"What did he do?" Romani asked with narrowed eyes, momentarily shocking the staff member who was used to him being a lax individual.

"W...Well sir, it has to do with the newcomer."

"Newcomer? Did we find the 48th Master candidate?"

Those who could contract the servants/ heroic spirits, who were figures of legend from human history, were called Masters. Chaldea had found 38 of them in magus nobility, and 9 in civilians as of yet.

"No sir, there was an intruder... He just appeared out of nowhere near our gates."

"I hope you realise how absurd you sound." Roman massaged his forehead, feeling the incoming headache from the fact that he'd hit his head and what he'd just been informed of, "What happened?"

"That... It's an emergency sir! You have to come quickly!"

Roman deadpanned, had this person just forgotten what they came to him for?

And just what sort of emergency warranted attention from the head of the medical department?

"Why did you even let him meet the intruder?"

The doctor pitied the poor soul who had probably gone through unimaginable torture.

Pushing away his thoughts, Romani hastily followed behind the staff member to arrive at a scene he had never even thought of. Outside one of the rooms he'd thought empty, a number of security staff stood with weapons at the ready.

And inside...

"...What happened here?"

"Well..." The unfamiliar pale haired teenager pointed at one of the walls, "Chucklefuck over there decided it was a good idea to get handsy."

"And by 'chucklefuck' you mean..." Romani's jaw hung low in shock.

To the right, Beryl Gut's body was embedded in a wall, a wall made of metal mind you. Broken handcuffs lay near the 'intruder' who was sitting with his feet on a table, head hung back, "Today, I get to see if vampires are immune to cold."

"...Just what did you do, young man?"

"I punched him."

-

Some feedback for this tired soul.