Interlude - Raise the Red Flag

The clap of thunder was the first thing she heard.

Her eyes were bare to this scene within her mind's eye, half conscious while in her astralised state next to her Master's bed - half unconscious while experiencing this memory which wasn't her own.

There was an onslaught of pitters and patters as the stormy night raged on. Flashing bolts were visible outside the windows. Booming thunders followed soon after.

Papers, books, and several objects of mystical quality she couldn't identify were strewn around the room with barely a semblance of order.

In the middle of the room lay the form of her Master's sister - smaller, younger, and sleeping soundly on a bed that could comfortably fit at least 5 of the young magus herself. A folded wheelchair laid at the foot of the bed.

Medusa tilted her head, wondering why this time and place would be so...significant to be the first thing to appear in the dream cycle of their bond.

And yet, what was the gnawing terror in the back of her mind?

Having lived on an isle, she was no stranger to the many storms which come and go in the middle of the sea, but the foreign feelings that creeped upon her while experiencing this dream was...disturbing.

Every flash of lightning struck her with a split second of paralysis. Every boom of thunder felt as if she was a blink away from being stabbed by ten thousand needles.

She quickly rationalised the feelings as Caules' own memory. Medusa understood it as a straightforward and crippling fear of a young boy...but what she couldn't understand was the sheer emptiness in between.

A sinking feeling in the bottom of a soul. A disassociation that made conscious movement difficult. Sensory loss and oblivion swirling into nothingness.

This experience shouldn't have affected her so much.

It shouldn't have, yet Medusa couldn't help but be reminded of those last moments of clarity after Harpe's blade cleaved through her neck.

A knocking on the door shuffled Fiore awake, and a young boy allowed himself inside.

"Fei, can I sleep here tonight?"

"Hmmng. Cal, why-" She yawned and rubbed her half lidded eyes. "Did you come here in the middle of the night? I'm busy sleepin'."

Another thunderbolt struck outside.

Maybe it was her imagination, the machination of the half conscious mind, or the strangeness of this dream, but the boy's figure changed.

Brown eyes held an empty gaze. His hair took on a darker shade. From face to arms, his skin...was littered with scars in a shape reminiscent of a plant's roots or...lightning.

It was gone in a blink. The boy was Caules once more.

"I'm just...scared."

"You woke me up because you're scared of a little storm outside...? It won't hurt you, dumby." A slight frustration mixed with the grogginess of a half asleep girl. Medusa honestly found it cute.

"Can I please just sleep here? I don't even need to be on the bed...the floor's fine too."

"Hrrng, no. That's stupid and the floor's hard. This is a big bed and it's cold. Get over here."

"...alright."

There was a bit of shuffling as the siblings moved under the blanket, with the girl hugging the curled form of her brother.

The fear and void at the back of Medusa's mind abated, an enveloping warmth replacing it. The raging storm outside turned into mere background noise.

"Sorry for waking you, Fiore."

"Is okaaay..."

From under the blanket, she could hear a quiet sob.

"There, there, baby brother~. The storm is bright and loud but it can't hurt you. Just sleep."

Despite the scene, that short glimpse definitely wasn't a trick of the mind, and Medusa was left with a question. She didn't doubt it. Those eyes and that soul still belonged to Caules, but just who or what was her Master?

The vision ended, and she was left staring at the sleeping form of Caules.

-0-0-0-

[Undisclosed Location in Romania]

The silence between the 3 Masters, while not quite palpable, was reaching a slight level of awkwardness. For Kairi, it gave him some time to think.

He tried to smoke, but the bespectacled Master next to him just flung the stick out of his hand with a flick of wind magecraft. Worst part was that, with the stoic yet blank look on Jean Rum's face, he didn't know if it was done out of pompous spite or reprimanding him for smoking in a closed room.

Either way, he couldn't take that little edge off his mind and decided to play with his knife instead.

It's been a few hours since the incident in the church. A few hours since surviving a tableturning trap via arrow through the throat and sword through the heart.

And with that particular change in dynamics, the Red faction's Masters were split...not like it had a chance of truly cooperating as a full group of 6 in the first place, especially with the people they had.

"You know, I kinda expected a betrayal within the week...but out of all the people in a war between magi, the priest was NOT the first guy I expected to turn coats." Kairi Sisigou said. The man looked like the stereotypical outlaw with his gruff appearance and scarred face.

The freelancing necromancer felt somewhat limited in a team composition. A good amount of his equipment dealt lethal collateral damage, and working in a new team like this meant establishing tactics to prevent friendly fire. And to hell with syncing their spells or sharing formulas for Bounded Fields; it was easier to teach an old dog new tricks than to get unfamiliar spellcasters to properly work together. Even with his experience working with the Master of Archer in a few bounty hunting gigs, with Kairi's set of tools and spells, he doubted their Mysteries would blend well with his.

Mordred was his partner in this War. And since she was a first-rate Saber with high magic resistance, he was more than fine watching her back in the battlefield.

[Damn right, Master. 'Course you're lucky to have me with how easily we beat Caster and her Master.] Saber smugly said through their link.

Feend vor Sembren, a silver haired Clocktower magus, clicked his tongue. His frustration was understandable. While the three Masters were mostly unscathed, he was still reeling from the residual poison in his body. "You and me both, mercenary. More importantly, it means their neutrality in this Great Holy Grail War comes into question. No, further than that - once I report this back to the Clocktower, we'll get Department of Policies to go down on them. Not even a day in Romania, and we've almost been sabotaged and now split in three teams. Fuckin' rubbish this situation is."

"Heck of a setback to experience before I could be summoned, Master." Lancer of Red lazily commented. He was a brown haired man with a goatee, wearing green and white clothes. Resting on his shoulder was a swordspear with a golden blade. "Don't know about you, but having all knight classes in one team ain't too bad. I don't know about Saber, but between me and Archer, I've got the heavy firepower Noble Phantasm, while Archer's got skills for trapping, guerilla warfare, and can fill in for an assassin role."

He rubbed the back of his head. "And to be honest, I don't think I'd work that well with Rider on our team. We'll more than make do with this."

"While it's unfortunate for the Caster of Red to be removed already, I think you two should be thanking me and Archer for saving you. After all, only he saw the trap before it was properly sprung and acted quickly." Jean Rum, a first-rate Magus with long brown hair, glasses, and green dress said. Kairi was frankly glad to have her on their side. The few times he worked with her was terrifyingly smooth with how she utilised the wind element. Other than that, she rocked that librarian look. "I'll gladly accept payment in lore. Perhaps you can phone up Department of Archaeology for some hints on Ivan the Terrible's library?"

"Why Archaeology? We have a perfectly functional Lore Department, Ms. Rum." Sembren blandly replied, but was receptive to the idea.

"They banned me after they found out I...comandeered a few of their documents for my research." Meaning she stole them without permission. Seems like the occasional audacity of high ranking magi still had consequences.

"...hm, that would do it. But, the best I can do is pull a favor from Modern Magecraft. This is all you'll get from me. Please, and thank you."

"Who are you pulling from MMT? The new El-Melloi?" There was a bit of amusement to her tone.

"No, the Norwich." Sembren clicked his tongue. "But if I were you I wouldn't be dismissing the El-Melloi so easily, especially when researching in theory."

"Hm, if you say so. The gratitude is appreciated." Jean dismissed, then looked to Kairi himself.

"Oh no, the only thing I'm doing is a verbal thank you. So, thank you, Archer. Sorry to say, Rum, but I don't have anything you'd want."

Jean hummed in contemplation. "I guess you're right. Anything to say, Archer?"

"Your thanks is welcome, Saber's Master." The Archer of Red, ironically cloaked in green with strands of orange peeking from his hood, humbly said. "Though if I were you all, I think now is a good time to plan our next move. Mister Traitor Priest already announced that all of Black's Servants have been summoned. The quicker we can get to setting up, the better a chance we'll have against the opposition."

"We've already LOST our best setup in the form of a Caster Servant, while all we have are the knights as simple frontliners. What further methods can we even do against the Black faction?" Sembren asked.

Behind him, Lancer of Red looked at his Master with a hint of disapproval...and subsequent amusement.

In response, Archer smirked. "I think you'd be surprised how effective I can be, when the enemy's base is surrounded by a forest."

"...fine. Some debrief will be good to plan this fac- this team's next move." The Clocktower magus relented.

"Maybe we should start by disclosing our Servant's names and abilities? They're the ones that'll be doing most of the fighting, so it's us who should be planning our skills around them."

"Well, that idea's got my full support. I heard that Yggdmillennia practically has an army's worth of homunculi, so we know that's what we'll be mostly fighting." Kairi said.

"Homunculi, familiar, golem, enemy Master - doesn't matter. They're second rates who bit the hands that carried them. The Clocktower provides education, resources, and connections. Yggdmillennia just took all they can and slapped our hand away for this short lived glory - to create an inferior facsimile of our own Association. Unfortunately for them, we're the ones that'll give them their sentence." Sembren declared proudly.

Kairi resisted the urge to scoff, and by the twitch of Rum's face so did she. Thank Root that the wandering magus wasn't as pompous as the other one.

Now that he thought about it..."Hey Saber, anything to add?"

When the Knight of Treachery astralised, her helmet was surprisingly retracted - the identity concealing effect of the Noble Phantasm now absent. Her eyes were closed in contemplation for a few seconds, until a look of resolution took over.

"Yeah, Master, I'll leave your magic planning to you magi, but for us..."

Saber pointed at Lancer.

"You, Laid-Back-Lancer, if whatever dots are clicking in my head and if the Grail's right about you being this...Trojan War commander, you and I will be making the main plans of engagement. Whatever Archer's got for forest combat has gotta be handy when the time comes, but there's one big point you gotta know."

"I'm listening." Lancer said.

"My gut's telling me that you're squishier than me, and no doubt I've got the strongest firepower in our faction by far. So, first and foremost, I'm gonna be your vanguard and main frontline; and I can't deny you've got the better mind for tactics, so I'll defer to you on that. You'll be my advisor and I'll be your king. And Archer?"

"Hm?"

"You're on cloak, dagger, and trap business. So just do what you do, and tell us the important details, understood?"

Archer smiled and gave a thumbs up.

"So, ready to get to business, Lancer?"

"Hm, if I'm gonna be advisor, then it's only proper that the king introduces himself, right?"

Saber smirked. "Servant Saber. I am Mordred, the one and true heir to the throne of Arthur Pendragon!"

"In that case, I'm Servant Lancer. Hector of Troy. I'm just an old man who's better at being a general than a warrior." Lancer, the middle aged man who was the greatest warrior of his country, who was also summoned in the theoretical prime of his life as judged by the Holy Grail, shrugged.

Saber stared with a look that radiated 'Are you stupid?' energy. But before she said anything, Archer took this time to speak up.

"Servant Archer. Just a Robin Hood that's good at guerilla warfare and poisons. I do know a decent bit of shamanism though...you know what, how about we hash out the details in the other room?"

"Sure, let's go." Saber nodded.

The Servants went, and left the magi to their devices.

[Well, whaddaya know, you can be one hell of a leader when you put your mind into it, Saber.] Kairi said through their bond.

[Those are some fighting words, Master! And also, who the hell do you think I am? I didn't lead a rebellion by insulting and pushing people around, y'know?...not all the time at least. You gotta be honest with the people; you gotta be strongest and loudest, but you also gotta be in charge to make the...best decisions.] Mordred paused on those last words. [And when I get my wish and pull on that sword...I'll get my proof whether I can or can't be king. But no matter what, I got to be me, and no one else.]

[Then if you ever need my support, I'm right behind you, Mordred.] A short moment ensued where Saber mumbled in embarassment.

The Black faction wouldn't know what hit them.

"Hm...didn't expect King Arthur's son to be a girl. Who would'a thought?" Archer was heard through the thin walls.

"The hell did you call me, you scrawny carrot!?" A thunderclap was heard as red lightning flashed from the doorway.

But first, they had to defuse this bomb before they accidentally reveal their location.

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