Chapter 25

Shirou squinted his eyes, an arm raised to shield his face from the buffeting wind of Arthur's billowing magic energy.

The man looked enraged despite maintaining a blank expression, the sheer potency of the magic he was releasing, worthy of being that of a Dragon's. Be that as it may, Arthur wasn't the only Dragon present.

Before Shirou could even hope to prevent it, Saber Alter bristled and released her own magic energy, a dark hue tinged with flecks of red that contrasted heavily against Arthur's navy blue.

The ground groaned beneath the two, the area where their energies met carving a fissure that spread out into hair-like cracks over the tiled marble. They were near the heart of the Roman Forum, a place lined with historic monuments that would last until the modern age.

Those historic monuments may crumble right here and now.

Sweat began to bead over Shirou's brow, trying to account for anything else that could go wrong, but quickly throwing out that mindset. The worst had already come to pass with the way Arthur was glaring at Saber Alter.

There was no turning back.

"You will regret this choice," Saber Alter warned, muscles taut and expression frigid.

Arthur shook his head, refusing to relent. "I know only what my eyes see, and what my body feels. Tell me this, if Caliburn were here, would you be able to wield it?"

Saber Alter did not answer even knowing that Shirou could very well put that scenario to the test.

It was because she lacked confidence.

"You don't know, do you? What manner of atrocity would you have committed to blacken even Excalibur's light? Morgan's Prime Evil curse that haunts Britain even now runs freely through the blade!"

There were no excuses, at least, none that Arthur would accept. Shirou could see this as clearly as Saber Alter could.

The stalwart knight and undefeated King was grounded in his duty, belief, and mission just as much as the original Saber if not more. Rather, Shirou knew from the history of the alternative Excalibur that Arthur was here on a mission to hunt a Beast for the sake of others rather than himself.

A righteous cause, a righteous dedication, and a righteous and steadfast will to carry it through no matter the level of self sacrifice.

That was the type of man Arthur was and represented as depicted in the legend of King Arthur.

Saber Alter was the opposite.

Selfish, possessive, and moving in accordance to her whims and wants, holding only law and order to the highest standard. Her Origin was blackened by the tainted mud of a cursed Grail giving breadth to an alternate history of kingship steepled in tyranny and oppression.

The two would never see eye to eye on principle alone.

However, did that mean that they should freely be able to come to blows?

No. Definitely not.

Shirou could not just stand and let this happen without intervening somehow.

If Arthur would not listen, Shirou understood that the only way to make a difference was through Saber Alter.

Hardening his resolve, Shirou lowered the arm shielding his face from the buffeting wind and approached Saber Alter from behind. She didn't react as she was both facing the other way, and didn't consider that he'd take such an action from the start.

In contrast, Shirou could feel Arthur's steely gaze lock on him at his approach.

The storm of black and red Saber Alter was releasing was palpable to the point of physically exerting itself on her surroundings.

Approaching was no simple feat, and the level of determination on Shirou's face reminded Arthur heavily of his own knights traversing the battlefield.

That still begged the question of what Shirou's purpose was?

What was spurring him to trek through that chaotic storm of magic energy despite physical harm?

Shirou felt like he was burning. His hair was whipping back, and small cuts were opening over his skin from the sharpness of Saber Alter's magic energy. Every breath felt tedious, and his vision was blurring with each step. Regardless, he progressed forward through the storm until he arrived at his destination.

Saber Alter didn't even react, knowing that Shirou was at her back and no one else. In her mind, there was no way he would harm her, making her vigilance to him entirely negligible. All her attention was focused on the enemy.

Her dilated pupils were piercing in their intensity, the sneer on her face ever so pronounced.

Then, she abruptly felt arms wrap around her shoulders, the disparity in height making the back of her head press against a familiar broad chest.

Shirou hugged Saber Alter from behind, and Arthur had a full view of Saber Alter's face. He saw how surprise shifted into dumbfoundment rather than fury, and how quickly that turned into a mix of shame and mortification as she realized Arthur was staring right at her.

With a face and disposition like Morgan, Arthur never once considered that Saber Alter could make such expressions, let alone show restraint out of consideration for the other person.

Morgan would have just taken what she wanted and called it hers by force if necessary.

Saber Alter was different. She wanted to possess, but she also wanted sincerity, and force would never gain sincerity.

Saber Alter could break out of that hug. It would be easy too, but she didn't. It even looked like she didn't want to…

Perhaps realizing that Arthur was judging her, Saber Alter could not take it anymore and squirmed.

In front of the enemy, Saber Alter was embarrassed, her momentum skewing into absurdity.

"Shirou, you-"

"Hold your anger." Shirou asked her, holding her closer and resting his chin over Saber Alter's head.

The tips of Saber Alter's ears began to redden as her gaze landed on Arthur, and yes, he was still there.

She then tried to be threatening, but the image was too off as the intensity of her magic energy was no longer as overbearing as before.

Arthur felt his tension slipping.

Saber Alter sighed.

"Let's put this off." Saber Alter glared, as if her concentrated animosity would earn her any points with Arthur.

Predictably, her prickly attitude did nothing.

"I do not trust you." Arthur glared back, putting weight to his words.

"It doesn't matter whether you do or do not." Saber Alter was not one to-

"Saber." Shirou interjected, looking Saber Alter right in the eyes. "Please. As a King, do you not know how to make peace?"

Saber Alter looked like she was dying. She wanted to live up to Shirou's expectations, but also disliked conceding to an enemy in any way.

"...you bastard, I will offer you an accord." Saber Alter ground out through gnashing teeth.

Shirou nudged Saber Alter's side, her eye twitching.

Of course, peace could be made through deals, but there was an even simpler method with individuals: An apology and a reconciliation would do wonders.

Knowing that, Saber Alter didn't want to consider it an option at all even if she understood that infighting was detrimental to a war let alone solving this Singularity.

"I-I refuse." She stammered.

Arthur blanked. That cold and unfeeling tyrant was being self conscious?

In the end, Saber Alter gradually reeled in her magic energy in utter silence under Shirou's continued coaxing.

Shirou then grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"...sorry. I was getting ahead of myself," Saber Alter hesitated, then spat the apology in Arthur's direction with contempt. The light in her eyes appeared entirely unwilling in their sheer petulance.

Arthur would have been annoyed if she hadn't mumbled the words out like a child chided by her guardian.

In retrospect, Arthur suddenly realized that no one would ever believe him if he told this story to others.

"Thank you," Shirou said.

"Hn." Saber Alter grunted and shifted her gaze away.

When Shirou tried to pull his hand back, Saber Alter resisted and instead interlocked her fingers with his own, expression remaining carefully neutral.

She was no longer even paying attention to Arthur as if he was just a bug on the wall. In short, a nuisance, a third wheel.

In silence, Arthur glanced from Shirou to Saber Alter, then back.

All tension finally left him as he dispersed his magic energy.

His expression grew unreadable before he stormed off, lost in thought.

/-/

Somehow, someway, Shirou managed to contain a disaster that was just waiting to happen. The result of his countermeasure was hard to predict, but he reasoned that it was better than the alternative.

Rome could not, and should not be the battleground of two Dragons that have never known defeat in war and battles.

Everything would be destroyed at the minimum, and Shirou couldn't even begin to imagine how Rome's destruction would lead to changes in the timeline.

He wanted to eliminate the era's Singularity, not be a contributor to it.

For once, Shirou was lucky that nothing ended up happening. He'd never thought a day would come where his luck would actually draw a positive conclusion, but he was getting ahead of himself.

Although he'd succeeded in diffusing the situation with Arthur and Saber Alter, it wasn't as if he'd solved it. Rather, it was better to describe it as nothing more than a delay.

Arthur had stormed off, likely to cool his head, and Saber Alter was needed to oversee repairs at Rome's walls. The sight of her greatly raised the morale of the Roman legions, and she wasn't one to keep still no matter how much she wanted to indulge by keeping him next to her.

It was one of her good points.

This left Shirou on his own, but it didn't mean he wasn't doing anything.

He was on his way to Nero's Golden Palace on a health check. Although he was certain that Avalon's potent healing would be able to quickly get Nero back on her feet, it was prudent to make sure she was doing alright rather than leaving it to assumptions.

With Nero's character, even if she wasn't fully healed, she should have long since gotten up by now if only to bask in her people's veneration of her.

Which was why it was all the more jarring to see Nero listlessly sprawled over her bed and blankly staring at her ceiling.

For all intents and purposes, she looked fine. The prior wound wasn't even there, and all the blood and grime, left on her body through countless battles before Chaldea's arrival, had been washed clean.

Shirou cleared his throat.

"Nero?" He called tentatively.

Her ears perked up, meaning that she must have heard him, but her eyes appeared unusually spiritless as she was suffering a bout of depression.

"Ah, it's you." She drawled, not even bothering to sit up.

Shirou approached her, dismissing Avalon within her as it had already expended the energy Saber Alter had charged into it.

"You're like a deflated balloon," he said, trying to get a reaction from her.

He got one, but it wasn't one he was expecting.

"What's a balloon?" She asked, rolling her head to stare at him.

Right, ancient Rome.

"No, never mind." Shirou changed his approach. "I guess a wilted rose is a better analogy?"

For a second, Nero looked offended as her spirits rose, only to fall just as quickly. "The Flower of Olympia does not wilt…or at least she shouldn't."

Shirou hummed, inwardly taken aback at how different Nero was acting. Something must have shocked her, and he'd get nowhere by guessing.

"Is there something wrong, Nero?" He asked her directly.

She looked at him, and swallowed, but she didn't answer. What was the point when it was already so evident?

Something was definitely troubling her. Her expression somehow screamed 'comfort me,' but she'd obviously never say such words as an emperor.

"No nevermind. A stupid question." Shirou realized his mistake. "Let me ask you something else. Whatever it is that's weighing on your mind, will you just lie down and take it? It doesn't seem like the type of thing the Nero I got to know would do."

Nero looked at him before biting down on her lower lip.

Rather than answer, she changed the entire topic to something that had everything to do with her current troubles, and yet didn't at the same time.

"Do you like me?" She asked such a loaded question out of the blue.

Taken aback, there was no way Shirou could immediately answer as all sorts of alarm bells began ringing in his head. He was really, really thankful that Saber Alter wasn't with him right now, but his silence had made him miss the opportune moment to reply.

Nero's expression flickered as she languidly sat up on her bed.

"Did you know? Everyone likes me," she said, bringing her legs up and hugging her knees. "I am Rome, and Rome is me. All are equally my people. Admiration, awe, and love are directed upon me wherever I go."

She looked at him, searchingly.

"Do you know the feeling?" She asked, speaking more to herself than to him as if something could be asserted by voicing her thoughts out.

"I bled for it," she mumbled.

"I live for it," she laughed.

"I revel in it," her voice grew weak. Weaker, and weaker still until finally.

"...It's all that I have." Those barely audible words were whispered out.

"Nero."

Shirou's voice was uncharacteristically sharp, Nero's head snapping up at the sound. Startled, she seemed to realize he was still there and grew sheepish, if just a little defensive about why she'd even bothered to say such things.

Perhaps she already knew, perhaps not.

As the emperor, she'd never dare to say such things to her own people, but Shirou and the people in Chaldea were outside that designation. Then again, maybe not.

"Umu, an emperor's joke." Nero quickly backtracked, trying to wave it off. "Don't take it too seriously."

Unfortunately, Shirou didn't have that option. He knew Nero's end all too well from the copy of her own sword in his Reality Marble to let such a careless remark go.

He may regret this choice later, but regardless, it was something that had to be done.

-When thrice she saw the setting sun, all it would have taken was the voice of one to save her, but even that never came.

In this regard, Shirou knew exactly what role he had to fill.

That one voice. If no one else, then let it be him.

"I like you," he said, following in Nero's example and throwing her entirely off.

"HUmugh?" The unintelligible sound she made as a reaction was credence to her bewilderment.

"I didn't answer before, but I know I can now." Shirou bit the bullet and continued headlong. "If it's between like or dislike, then I like you."

"Umu, you, what are you playing at?" Nero narrowed her eyes, craning her chin up from where she sat.

"Does it sound like I'm playing?" Shirou immediately replied, tone even.

Saber Alter was going to stone him for keeping such a straight face, let alone Jeanne Alter who's temper was like a volatile match lock.

He inwardly shuddered, but boldly persevered.

Nero was flustered, eyes swimming.

"I asked that prior question as a joke-"

"And I answered it with sincerity."

Silence ensued, the two staring at each other, Nero breaking away first in the awkwardness.

"No matter what's troubling you right now, or no matter what happens, I'll choose to believe in you until the end." Shirou gave his stance.

It was hard to swallow.

There was no doubt about it, but it didn't mean that it couldn't be true.

"Why?" The word left Nero's mouth, her expression carefully blank.

"Because I like you. So, I'll believe in you even if there comes a time when no one else will."

Nero pursed her lips, then opened her mouth.

"Get out." She got up and pushed him towards the door. "Who would believe that? Umu, you must think this emperor is a fool."

'Who would believe that? At the very least, perhaps you would.'

Nero's agitation was telling, but the reaction was better than intended.

A little life returned to her eyes, followed by a flare of competitive spirit.

Good.

A part of Shirou grew relieved the moment he was kicked out and Nero shut the door behind him.

So long as there was a spark, there could still be a fire. The Nero that shone the brightest in the history revealed through Aestus Estus, was the one that laughed in the face of adversity rather than cave against it.

Sometimes, even the most depressed can hang on with the support of even just one.

Besides, it wasn't as if Nero would be able to remember anything upon the Singularity's conclusion anyway.

/-/

The location in which magic energy runs through the earth and gathers at a point is known as a leyline. In Rome, that leyline was located in none other than the construction site of the Domus Aurea.

Due to the wars and fighting, much of the construction was halted and the space was cordoned off by fence posts. However, several visitors were currently setting up bases in the construction zone.

It was none other than Chaldea.

Mash and Ritsuka were busy finishing the final diagrams to set up Chaldea's summoning circle over Mash's shield, while Shirou, Saber Alter, Jeanne Alter, and a certain emperor were watching.

"What is she doing here?" Saber Alter crossed her arms and stared at Nero.

Funnily enough, it was Mash that stiffened at Saber Alter's inquiry as if she'd done something wrong.

"She wanted to watch." Mash said, chuckling dryly.

"And you let her?" Saber Alter raised a brow.

Mash wilted.

"It was supposed to help clear up her doubts about Servants…should I not have?" Mash lowered her head while Saber Alter pulled a face at the display.

There was no reason to get frustrated with Mash when Nero was the one Saber Alter was truly frustrated with.

"What are you wearing?" Saber Alter bristled, finally turning her gaze on Nero.

"Don't you know?" Nero did a twirl, showing off her newest black dress. "Black is the new red these days!"

A subtle expression crossed Saber Alter's face before she thought about it, and unexpectedly agreed. "You're right. Which means I have no need to be your double for any longer."

"You can't!" Nero shook her head in disapproval, earning a glare from Saber Alter and a chuckle from Jeanne Alter.

"Why must I pose as you if you are now well?" Saber Alter argued.

Competition. It was obvious to Shirou when it came to Nero's current obsession.

"I insist! I hear you've been doing well." Nero placed her hands on her hips and implored Saber Alter with a fire in her eyes.

"And I refuse." Saber Alter didn't even entertain the notion. She didn't want to, but you can't always get what you want.

A beep echoed before Romani's voice sounded in the air through a holographic reflection.

["Now Saber, hold on a moment."]

"Ah, the magician speaks!" Nero nodded. "Good, convince her. An emperor's role is not to convince the competition."

Saber Alter said nothing and stared flatly at Romani, daring him to try to spin a method of convincing when there was none she'd accept.

Sweat poured down Romani's brow, the man swallowing nervously. He knew that there was merit in Saber Alter remaining as Nero's double as it was evident that someone was out for Nero's life.

If Nero died now, that was it. The Singularity was over. A game over. A failure.

As Nero's substitute, Saber Alter could draw the enemy's attention away, while keeping Nero's whereabouts unknown.

Sensing Romani's difficulty, Ritsuka offered an out.

"Let's consider our plan a bit later? Maybe with Caesar and everyone else around?" Ritsuka proposed.

He nodded towards Shirou to help him out before then indicating that he and Mash had finished setting down the summoning circle.

Fortunately, Saber Alter wasn't irrational and agreed with Ritsuka's suggestion.

"Umu. You're right. It doesn't make sense to have to go over everything twice. We will discuss this later!" Nero nodded as if she had thought of the idea herself.

Saber Alter rolled her eyes at Nero, but let it go as Shirou wasn't saying anything.

Clearing his throat, Ritsuka decided that it was best to get started before Nero and Saber Alter's clashing personalities left any casualties.

"Then, I'll summon first."

Ritsuka stretched his hand out towards the summoning circle, several spheres of light rotating around Mash's shield.

With the summoning circle now established, Ritsuka and Shirou now had access to the Spirit Origins of Heroic Spirits registered in Chaldea's database. Rather than going for a random summon, the registered Spirit Origins could be used to directly summon a Servant already in Chaldea, minimizing the chance of uncertainty.

This Servant pool was one that all Masters of Chaldea could draw from including Olga and Ophelia.

From the Servants he'd met in Orleans, Ritsuka had already spoken with those he wished to summon in advance.

In the light of the summoning circle, Jeanne appeared with a light smile, Sieg next, then finally Martha.

Jeanne Alter scowled the moment Jeanne appeared, realizing they'd be working together this time and not against each other. However, she stared at Sieg just a little longer recalling that he had a dragon form which could pair exceedingly well with her. If nothing else, she could throw it at Saber Alter as a diversion while she had a tryst with the Master.

T-Then a kiss.

Her face burned, but Jeanne Alter chuckled to herself in determination. Saber Alter would weep at her inevitable victory.

Neither Saber nor Jeanne Alter noticed that Nero kept subtly peeking thoughtful glances at Shirou the entire time.

Shirou stepped up to the summoning circle after Ritsuka.

He already had Saber and Jeanne Alter who were directly contracted with him. Chaldea supplied him with the magic energy for their upkeep, but this didn't mean he couldn't summon.

The more help they had, the better, and it was foolish to refuse.

The only difference between Shirou and Ritsuka, was that Shirou leaned more towards a random summon than drawing from Chaldea's summoning pool. After all, it wasn't as if he managed to really connect with any of the new Servants from Orleans other than Jeanne Alter. Most of them had come after forming a rapport with either Ritsuka or Olga, and not him. Then again, there was one Servant who had expressed great interest in partnering with him.

Said Servant had been summoned outside of Orleans and Fuyuki.

Shirou paused and considered it, only to make up his mind when he figured that there was no harm.

Reaching his hand out to the summoning circle overlaid atop Mash's shield, he connected with Chaldea's Spirit Origin Archive and called a particular Servant forth.

A man appeared wearing boisterous stage clothes, a red cloak cape and a renaissance hat. His features were rugged and slightly unkempt as if to reflect a life of constant absorbance into his work. He had brown hair, an angular European face, and a mischievousness that screamed bad news.

"Caster, William Shakespear," the man grinned, a hand ruffling his trimmed beard, wrinkled eyes twinkling with anticipation. "I'm glad you've taken me up on my request. For a writer, there is nothing more agonizing than failing to bear witness to an unraveling play."

And that was why Shirou had reservations about this. The play Shakespeare was talking about was nothing else but Shirou's own life, and that of the ensuing cast of the Grand Order.

"Ugh, well, sure." Shirou coughed into his hand and tried to move on to his actual summoning.

"Greetings, your Majesty," Shakespear tentatively nodded at Saber Alter, features slightly stiff for reasons Shirou would not know.

Saber Alter gave Shakespear a flat stare. In the end, she said nothing much to Shakespear's relief.

Attention soon shifted back to Shirou after Caster's arrival.

He would be attempting his first random summon as a Master of Chaldea.

Summons generally resonate through a catalyst. To summon without a catalyst would mean the Master and Servant are almost always related in some manner either through character or even a set purpose.

It was the same for Shirou on that fateful night when he'd first summoned the original Saber. The motivations of each were reflections of each other's ideals.

In this case, Shirou hoped that whoever responded to him would be able to get along with Jeanne and Saber Alter.

Watching the swirling patterns of the Saint Quartz given as tribute, doubt flickered across his expression at the barest hints of black abruptly mixed in with a wave of turbulent gold. It was only for a fraction of a second, and was immediately drowned by what then appeared to be a rainbow color.

Was he the only one that noticed it?

The others didn't seem to react.

A chill traveled down Shirou's back, goosebumps forming over his skin from an ominous premonition.

From the Throne of Heroes, a Servant answered Shirou's call, only to fall forward the moment she materialized, utterly unresponsive.

The Servant was unconscious and showed no signs of waking, but that wasn't as important as the Servant's appearance that everyone quickly took in.

.

.

.

The area fell into uncharacteristic silence, as no one knew how to interpret what their eyes could see.

Staring at Nero, and then to the comatose form of the Servant who'd answered his call, Shirou's mouth locked shut as he had the dreadful realization that this could be his fault.

It was neither uncertainty nor suspicion. Rather, it was grief.

He was the summoner, and now that he thought about it, not once in his entire life had he ever performed a proper summoning.

He'd botched it up again.