Everything about this war was… wrong.
Archer stood by the corner of their waiting room, calm as can be with his arms crossed and eyes closed.
Or rather, he was trying to stay calm but it was very, very difficult to keep a straight face when out of the corner of his eye, Berserker was gorging himself a whole roast pig. Quite well-behaved despite the forever-angry look chisled into his face. Not a single sliver of food spilled on the floor or table as he ate, a sharp contrast to the indiscriminate destruction he was capable of dishing out on the battlefield as his every step cratered the ground beneath him. Though, right now, that lumbering behemoth was very quietly kneeling on the floor which has surprisingly held his weight, having already eaten ten men's worth of food.
'When did Illya teach this brute etiquette? And why does he need to eat so much?'
Had they been running low on mana hence his need to restock with actual meals? Unlikely. That they'd even venture all the way out here and relaxedly mingle with other Servants to do just that was… to put it lightly, unsettling for EMIYA.
And that wasn't the most appalling part.
Artoria, her current state, as well as her doppelganger. Assassin, Okita Souji.
He'd almost flinched when she and her Master entered the room beforehand. He recognized Shinji's frame almost immediately, some protective padding in his clothes couldn't fully disguise the way the boy slouched, a hand in his pocket, as he entered with a nervous gait. But why did he come with Assassin instead of Rider, what's more the very same Assassin that he crossed swords with at school?
He wanted to leave and scout out what happened to the Matou camp. But due to his duties as Rin's Servant, he couldn't very well take independent action just yet. All he could do was wait and watch while Okita enjoyed some sweets, not partaking of any meals aside from satiating herself with some snacks instead.
As for Saber…
The woman was eating too. Generously so, if not more than Berserker. She was sat across Okita, neither of them dropping an intense stare they were shooting each other, but it didn't seem like they'd come to blows. For now.
Even though her armor and presence was tinged by an unfamiliar dark air, she still seemed like her usual regal self.
"How long will you keep staring, knave?"
"Oh, come now, savage. Is the gaze of a man who is wary of the stench of blood on your hands bothering you so?"
"Keep mouthing off and I'll make it spout a fountain of blood, face stealer."
Okay, maybe he was being a bit too optimistic in not being prepared for the snappy attitude coming from someone who was usually soft spoken and polite even to her foes. All politeness had evaporated from her person, likely something to do with her summoning that he had no idea could go awry in such a drastic manner.
Meeting her baleful gaze once more, he put his hands up and shrugged to convey non-aggression.
"Apologies, but I was just making sure I wasn't seeing double. You two wouldn't happen to be sisters, however, would you?"
"Perish the thought! Being a sibling to a boor like this?! Uegh…" / "Don't you dare insult me again like that, cretin! Else your head will be the first I take."
He quailed under the eyes of both Assassin and Saber, more for the latter as she had her sword manifest around her waist, ready to be drawn. The room fell silent once again.
'Well, at least I can be sure to report that these two might not be working together.' Archer sighed. Meanwhile across from Heracles, the man brooding all this time from the sidelines suddenly chuckled. "And what could be so funny, Lancer?"
"Huh? Sensed you couldn't win a fight with the little ladies that you wanna pick one with me?" the spearman didn't bother to stand after mocking back but he did spare Archer a glance. "Got a problem with me, Red?"
"Not at all, Blue. But for someone who looks like a whipped dog, never did I expect you to chuckle like a hyena without good reason. That is, unless you find the exchange of lookalikes endearing."
That took the brunt of Artoria's menacing side-eye from Archer onto Cu himself. And while the hound of Chulainn might've been confident he could take her, no doubt in Archer's mind the man was itching just for that, for now, the man showed impressive restraint and merely shrugging in the face of pure animosity.
"Hey, don't look at me. A guy's gotta have some fun somehow. It's not like we can drop everything and start fighting right here and now, can we?"
The silence of the room was the answer, broken only by Berserker still eating, seemingly unbothered by the conversation. Nor any want to actually go berserk, as was his namesake. Saber relented her weapon and sat straight, unmoving as a statue. Assassin continued to enjoy her treats. Lancer sat back and feigned falling asleep in his chair.
And Archer… Well, he didn't know what to make of this situation. Brooding in his corner, he relaxed, knowing full well he needed a moment and, if there was ever a time to collect himself, ironically it would be right here in the same room as his future opponents.
In another life, half of this room would be killing the other and, had the Masters not been in some form of alliances by then, would be doing the same in the other room. Surreal as it was to find a moment of peace in a War he expected to go topsy turvy at the drop of a hat, he took his blessings in stride.
He could only count so much, especially after he glanced at Artoria's weapon and took in the history of this timeline's Saber.
For the first time since being summoned, he was able to stay quiet. Not because he grasped something helpful for his side nor was he able to relinquish all sources of tension in his bones, no.
It was because he had to solemnly come to terms that the stranger of a Saber before him was one he knew all too well but wished he didn't. Whereby gleaning this Excalibur's history, he found the cause to her drastically altered effects.
While he now stood alone atop a hill of blades of his own making, she too had been made a witness to a slaughter that spanned across time and embedded itself at her core. Alone on the hill of Camlann and bathed in the blood of her former comrades.
But unlike the ideal he strived for, in contrast to the woman he'd been inspired by on that night so many years ago… The King of Knights, stood atop her hill of blood and corpses, did not hold Excalibur Morgan with a grieving expression.
In his vision of its history, what stood there holding the darkened blade was not a hero. It was a weapon. One of justice's wrath, indiscriminate yet fair. In the sword's history, though it and its master were bathed in blood, remnants of what she used to be, or could have stayed as, surfaced from time to time.
But right now, all of that was absent. Replaced by the harsh façade of a cruel knight in black.
He wanted to talk to her. Something inside him yearned to ask so many questions. 'Why?' 'What happened to change her so?' 'And how can it be reversed?' Trying was impractical, but the want was there. The part of him who fell in love with that girl years ago cried out.
He dared glance at her dashing figure once more. But her own caught him like a deer in the headlights.
Dull grey met the dangerous glint of gold. Gone were her steely and gentle green.
And as quickly as it came, the threatening stare rescinded. Like sheathing a bloodstained sword, Artoria turned her gaze from him and went back to staring at the wall, occasionally bickering with Assassin. Archer could do naught but sigh. And yet, despite the lack of words, he could tell from that look alone.
Unless that boy could reign her in while he tried making friends, this might be the last time they would meet on non-aggressive terms.
However, as much as he wanted to be there for her, to relieve her of whatever burdens made her turn out so, he still had a role to play.
It was not impossible to try an alliance. But that ran against his own goals. Rin and Luvia's too. The man in red steeled himself, knowing well that, with Saber and this very timeline altered beyond his expectations, he couldn't take it easy.
'This War is gonna be one hell of a shit storm.'
***
As the Servants waited, eyeing each other up with the sole exception of the gluttonous Berserker, the volatile peace of the room held.
That said, a sixth brooding in their own corner couldn't help but wonder… Having held their silence all this time, their presence remained imperceptible to the others, allowing them a chance to be lost in thought as they studied the surroundings. And listened to their Master's voice.
'How fares the guest room? Seems too quiet for a place swarming with Servants.'
'The leylines flow seamlessly yet systematically throughout the mountain, not just the mansion.' Ignoring the jest, they gave a report. 'I'd sensed no trap lying in wait. Beyond protective barriers and boundary fields, not much can be said about the amateur wards. And yet… Master, you seem very interested to attend this gathering.'
Said Master laughed through their connection, having chosen to not join the meeting just yet and opting to instead wander the grounds for a bit longer. Not that the host would notice, given he was blessed with the best protection that could be conjured up by a magus.
'Call it… a sneaking suspicion…' That was all he said before he cut off the connection. Likely due to having found something that required his full attention.
As that man's Servant, there was plenty that could be said of him. But 'careless' was not one of those things.
'An Arbiter that rouses his suspicion… Hmm… Something going on here is more… clandestine than the mana in the air lets on…'
Eyes empowered by the strongest magecraft in the War glanced up at the corner of the rooms where security cameras monitored the Servant guests. The lines of mana flowing to and from them were thin, almost imperceptible and bland from normal boundary fields.
But what was eye-catching about them was the intricacy involved in the weaving. Quite unlike those used by the Clock Tower a certain Master used to belong to. And yet, the traces left were very familiar.
The corpse of a redhaired man in a morgue came to mind.
'Are you paying more attention to this Arbiter… specifically because of Heartless' demise…? Or perhaps… you're merely taking precautions to the one true obstacle to your goal…?'
The Master had no reply through their bond.