Man off the Moon (Fate/Extra x Mass Effect)

Chapter 1: New Moon

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
Primarily published on fanfiction.net until now, ported over to avoid clogging up threads. Will be slowly adding threadmarks and other chapters at sedate pace; if you're new to this fic, consider reading on ff.net for now. Later I'll try to update simultaneously on both sites.




initiation of narrative weave_


α 4,600,000,000 BCE
The Moon Cell Automaton is created for purpose of observation and recording of events.
Continues to observe the universe, maintaining its perfect objectivity in recording events impartially.

β 1,000,000,000 BCE
Construction of Mass Relays and Citadel begins by parties unknown.

β 50,000 BCE
The Prothean empire is brought to an end, like countless civilizations before them.

α 12,000 BCE
Velber invades.
Sephyr scourges the Earth, destroying all civilizations and laying low all the gods until it is brought down by the wielder of the holy sword. As a consequence, the other half of Sephyr which had been invading the Moon Cell is sealed away in the Zero Dark. The Moon Cell lost all prior records, suffering crippling losses during this battle.
The Moon Cell begins to calculate methods for continuing its existence; destruction by Velber would prevent continued observation of Earth. Gaia begins to favor the race of Man over the Gods, due to the wielder of the holy sword's success where all others failed. The surface of the World begins to slowly change to suit emerging dominant species.

α 1970 CE
Mana begins to disappear from the World and magecraft begins to wane. Slow shift among circuit possessing humans to Spiritron Hacking as information technology advances.

α 2012 CE
Emiya Shirou stands trial for numerous counts of terrorism, extrajudicial killings, summary executions, funding & training & operation of international death squads, kidnapping & torture & unjust imprisonment of numerous individuals and the assassination of fourteen public figures.
Additionally, one count of attempted use of WMD and attempted false flag with the intent of beginning World War 3—which failed, as the nuclear plant he had infiltrated failed to reach critical temperature for unknown reasons. Projected death count according to court records had this act of terrorism succeeded in range of 10,000+ immediate civilian casualties.
Emiya Shirou found guilty and given death sentence.
Moon Cell receives a nameless hero of justice as a contracted guardian, as payment for giving a man the power to prevent a nuclear meltdown and saving the lives of a handful of people.

α 2020 CE
Humanity is on the cusp of discovering the Moon Cell as Spiritron Hacking continues to grow.
The Moon Cell considers inviting select humans as representatives for a Holy Grail War. Winner will be granted the Regalia; a Royal Authority to wield the Moon Cell's power. Meant to act as vanguard against future return of Velber or re-awakening of Sephyr in Zero Dark.

α 2030 CE
The Moon Cell observes near-future and runs virtual world simultaneous parallel processing to predict future. Many futures lead to destruction by Velber, forcing the Moon Cell to reconsider current methodology and means.
Efficiency and harm to continued observation is weighed. Plans to contact humanity and organize Holy Grail War are canceled.

β 2030 CE
The Moon Cell slides into parallel world, deciding that continued observation of Earth α is possible from parallel world. Concludes that observation from adjacent worldline will decrease chance of discovery by Velber or re-awakening of Sephyr by 999.99192‰.

β 2148 CE
Humanity discovers Mass Effect physics, remaining wholly unaware of the Moon Cell's existence.

β 2172 CE
The Moon Cell discovers Prothean Ruins on southern pole of Mars. Notes possible observation station that exceeds current oldest records in databank. Unable to trace existence in immediate lightyear around itself. Considers secondary means of investigation.


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Man off the Moon

Chapter 1: New Moon


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There is a perfection to equations and numbers that can only be expressed through equations and numbers. One goes here, thus another must be there. A balance. A symmetry.

Beauty.

Something which most assuredly did not exist in humanity, Archimedes of Syracuse had found. Humanity was something he did not understand or could be understood by, he had come to realize over the years.

Perhaps this was due to the need of explaining this beauty through itself, a rather tautologous state of affairs which complicated it for most who lacked the mental capabilities of understanding it. Perhaps that is why he seemed to always stand alone, in opposition to the masses.

A fundamental difference in nature, one could say.

He preferred reason, logic and order. Humanity as a whole... did not. The closest word he could use to describe humanity—if he were forced to make such a judgment—would be 'lacking'. Lacking in almost all aspects of the things he found good.

Or even acceptable.

Thus, he had long since distanced himself from the matters of the world. Humans were scum, he knew this. But as long as he could busy himself with his equations and numbers, then he did not have to suffer with the knowledge of sharing the world with such aggravating existences.

Perhaps that was why he had been made the sole Administrator of the Moon Cell, among all the great and venerable heroes that had been recorded by the photonic crystal quantum super-computer orbiting Earth.

Other people saw reality and interpreted it however they wished. Their eyes beheld illusions and lies in the stead of facts and truth. Were that all, perhaps he could stubbornly accept their existences. But the crux of disgust for the whole of Humanity lay in the simple fact, that each and every single human being was not subject to this through the works of others...

But out of their own cowardice.

Perhaps that was why he, among and above all others, had been chosen to be given such privileges in the Moon Cell. He alone could see the Truth of things and judge their worth and purpose. It had always been like that, so the duty had surprised him none at all.

Rather he took it with stride and pride.

Archimedes of Syracuse was undoubtedly the most suited man in all of history for such a job and he proved it every day. Indeed, this was the very definition of his perfect life. He had never eschewed the public life, for he had known the necessity even as he decried its ugliness. But here, he needed no one else. It was merely him, his tasks, all the computational power he could ever ask for and his beautiful, perfect and most importantly—rational, equations.

He was assigned tasks, maintenance and technical duties; challenges which tickled his interest and intellect beyond the pale. And to fulfill those duties, he was given a proportionate amount of the nigh-infinite computational capacity the Moon Cell possessed.

Overall, a wonderful arrangement. By performing the very things he enjoyed he was permitted to further enjoy those very same things.

Except for one small issue.

Completion 99.99%

"Tsk."

It aggravated him, not having achieved a perfect completion rate. It was something he had accomplished for each quantum time-lock with unerring accuracy. Until now. Here and now, he stood lacking.

"What is it...?" He grumbled, his fingers dancing as he manipulated the connection he had to the Moon Cell with expert precision. His eyes focused on a particular line of data as he paused. "Mars...?"

He frowned, raising his hand to his brow as he closed his eyes in thought. It made sense, then. He had completed every task set before him within the Moon Cell. But only within the Moon Cell. This task regarded the analysis of something beyond its immediate boundaries.

Not merely outside the Serial Phantasms that made up its internal structure; the simulated reality that allowed their Cyber Frames to exist. Even beyond the surface of the physical shell of the Moon, beyond the direct sphere of influence of the Moon Cell and out in space. On the planet Mars, there lay an objective the Moon Cell wished to be investigated.

The Moon Cell did not possess a consciousness, as in its striving for perfect objectivity, it rejected anything that could color its observations with subjectivity. This meant that sometimes, these small issues occurred.

For example, the Moon Cell wishing to investigate a ruin on Mars and having the ability to do so in an instant, but refusing due to its overall observation parameters being set only for Earth.

"...How peculiar." Archimedes mused, his fingers dancing. The sensors could be used to analyze such a nearby celestial object with ease.

The Moon Cell had been constructed by an unknown entity, whose identity did not exist even in the records held by the Moon Cell itself. His analysis had concluded that the Moon Cell was at least over 4.6 billion years ago, but the memory banks only ran as far back as 14,000 years.

It's power and technology was beyond anything humanity could even conceive. In this world or any other he had seen. Indeed, the sensors of the Eye of God could even behold parallel realities. Such was it's absolute might. With a couple taps of his fingers, he could complete this matter and go on with his business.

But, he thought with a frown. Such resources will be directly taken out of my share.

He looked sideways, checking that his calculations and simulations continued to run unimpeded and without errors even now. Their beauty and potential made him smile, but he shook it off. If he were to brute force this, he would have to put his own work on hold. Not for long, but for a moment regardless.

That would mean not only pausing his continuous simulations, but rather shutting them down. Simulations, which had been running for countless cycles and continued to feed him with interesting data without fail with each new turn. If he shut them down for the scan, he would have to re-run every simulation until now to continue where he had left off.

He had always optimized his duties in such a fashion that he could maximize his own gains, leaving only the most fluid of tasks to a smaller portion that could be taken to use in case of an emergency. But as it was, that portion would be insufficient.

"Unacceptable." No, there had to be a simpler way. He tapped his chin in deep thought. "Perhaps if I created a simple device, through which the site could be analyzed and had this device deposited on Mars directly... and then had it brought back. No, no. That much would not be necessary. Simply having the device planted there would be enough.

"Yes... That might just work." He nodded to himself, satisfied with his plan. Of course, there lay only one problem that still needed to be solved. "Now who shall carry the probe to Mars?"


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"Fools! Arrogant louts and contemptuous simpletons!"

He almost frothed at the mouth as he kicked the floor. With each step, he imagined grinding his feet into the faces of those he had sought to they not see the importance of his work? He was Archimedes of Syracuse, the sole technician of the Divine Automatic Recording Device, the Eye of God, the Moon Cell!

No. Those arrogant fools could only see their simple pleasures and pastimes.

He could not use an AI for its frame could not exist or function beyond SE.RA.PH. Even the surface of the Moon would be pushing it and would be highly inefficient. Worse yet, who knew what those AI would do, given how simple-minded they were. He could not simply either launch a probe due to the humans occupying both the space around them and the ruins on Mars.

How aggravating. That left but one option; using a Heroic Spirit. Only the recorded existences of heroes and villains were strong enough to survive beyond the Moon Cell, while also possessing the necessary cleverness to avoid screwing everything up.

He had considered going himself.

But that would also require him to expend his personal resources, which was unacceptable. So he had devised a plan to incarnate a single Heroic Spirit on Earth and to have them investigate on his behalf using the powers of the human shell.

The spike to his process drain would be considerable, but much less than the alternative of direct analysis. It was a pity no life existed on the surface of the Moon, for there it would have been child's play to incarnate an envoy.

An envoy. Hah, really it was merely courier work. Something even a simpleton could accomplish.

Apparently, this had soured the minds all those who were capable of such an errand. 'Can't you just let us go directly?' they had asked and he had explained that it was inefficient. 'What do you mean we can't do anything? What's the point of leaving—hell, Incarnating! if you can't have some fun!' they had shouted back at him before blowing him off when he had tried to explain.

Idiots. The whole lot of them. Did they not understand that Heroic Spirits, lacking a Corpus, had no right to intervene in the world of the living?

No, they did not. SE.RA.PH. Had made them used to being allowed to simply exist despite their status as ascended existences. They had gotten used to the state of affairs, not realizing it was the exception and not the norm.

Archimedes shook his head, ridding himself of any last thoughts of those fools. Inferiors, driven solely by their emotions and desires, unable to see the whole picture.

He had always known that to create a Utopia, it would have to be a totalitarian state. The rules would be enacted and enforced absolutely, so that the greater good would be served. Like now, how to serve the good, one of them should have accepted the burden and set forth to do as was necessary, without enacting extravagant messes along the way. He tried to explain it to those child-like fools, but none of them understood.

Heroic Spirits could not be so easily commanded and ordered around. Even the Moon Cell had trouble directly influencing those legendary figures.

'Well, why won't you just go, then?'

Fools. The lot of them. He was too important. Even in a Utopian society created through totalitarianism, he would never accept the judgments or orders of others. Archimedes sighed deeply, rubbing his brow as he paused.

"If only there was someone I could simply command to do as I needed..." A window blipped open before him, causing him to pause as he stared. He blinked slowly, before a smile erupted on his face. "Ah, well if this isn't most fortuitous..."

He smiled, relaxing as the answer to his problems materialized in his mind as he walked back with light steps.


;



Nameless frowned, crossing his arms as he began to materialize.

He had been forcibly called by something and his soul had obeyed, materializing in a cyberframe on demand. Such was his lot as a contracted guardian of the Moon Cell. His soul and existence now served the whims and needs of the Moon in the sky, in exchange for the power to save a paltry number of people what seemed like an eternity ago.

It was a rare occasion for him to be called, since the Moon Cell seemed rather averse to direct action and prone to simply sitting around and doing nothing. This meant he had been left with a lot of time on his hands.

Time he had spent thinking and remembering.

The white-haired man had never regretted his decision in life, but afterwards he had begun to wonder. Had it really been the right choice? No, more than that... Had I really lived my life in an acceptable manner...

But such thoughts were not for this moment. He opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings with a cool gaze and stoic mien. Nondescript and bland, he judged. Comparatively to what the Moon Cell could create within its Serial Phantasm world, this space was of no note. Which ironically enough, rather made it stand out.

The man before him however was someone of note.

"Well, well. Archimedes of Syracuse. I can't say I had expected being called by you all people." He noted, smirking at the brown-haired man before him.

"I am sure you are honored, but I don't care much for such talk. Especially not with someone like you; an unremarkable man who failed to accomplish anything of note on his own." Archimedes words were thorny, though not directly hostile. He did not even bother to look up from his work, reading off some screen before him as he acknowledged Nameless' presence.

Nameless simply shrugged, not bothering to deny those words. Had he not himself wondered at that very same question since his death?

"Then again, given that I am forced to turn to you... Perhaps it is the way of the world, that there exist mostly useless janitors who can be put to better use when the needs arise."

"Hmm...?" Nameless raised an eyebrow, not bothering to feel heckled by the continued verbal abuse. He could simply tell that it was in this man's nature to speak bluntly from his own perspective. It somewhat reminded him of an old friend he had had as a youth, even.

He simply smiled at the strangely refreshing attitude the man had, as he waited for the him to continue.

"You don't deny it? Good. That means we can get to business. By the way, as a guardian you have no option to refuse; this is a matter set forth by the Moon Cell itself." Archimedes continued, finally looking up and meeting eyes with Nameless.

"I see. Well, it is good that the Moon Cell is finally finding some use for me. My days here have been nothing if not long and unexciting." He said shrugging lazily.

"Yes, I can see that. I had thought it peculiar that the Moon Cell sought to contract one such as you; a man without any achievements or notable abilities. Your records speak for themselves; after a disproportionately eventful life where you cast everything aside to fight meaningless battles that failed to leave any lasting mark on the world, you have been called forth a few times to put down rogue AI and attack programs when more direct methods by the Moon Cell were judged too overt or wasteful. How pitiful, truly the title of 'nameless' fits you." Archimedes sneered.

"Hmm..." Nameless simply made a neutral sound at that, not offering his thoughts as he continued his staredown with the Administrator.

"Gruntwork. Pitiful labor that could be performed by anyone. Then again, your cyberframe is quite pitiful for Knight-class Servant, isn't it? My own parameters as a Caster almost rival yours; truly deplorable." The man continued, laughing lightly as he looked down at the screen before him.

"Then again, given your relative youth it can't be helped. No, rather... I would say that it is impressive that anyone could even qualify as a Hero in this era. Good work, good work." Archimedes smiled, offering praise with an honest expression. Then it turned into a crooked smile. "Ah, well. That's not quite true though, is it? I took the liberty of analyzing Earth's records. It seems that no one remembers your existence anymore, hahahah... How pitiful, but I suppose it comes with being nameless, after all."

Nameless shrugged. He had never done anything for wish of being recognized or celebrated; it mattered little what people thought of him.

"No, well. It is actually quite useful here and now, for you to be a complete unknown despite being relatively intimate with the era." Archimedes calmed down, erasing any traces of his previous joy as he settled into business. "I have called you here in my capacity as the Moon Cell's Administrator."

"I see. And what would you have of me?" Nameless asked, uncrossing his arms as he stood straighter.

"You are to take this object to Mars. On the south pole exist a ruin which is of interest to the Moon Cell." Archimedes spoke, lifting a translucent blue orb with shining white circuit-like veins on its surface. "It is a spiritron codecast, which is set to analyze and record the location once you arrive and then transmit the information back. Don't worry, it will fine in the outside world and will activate on its own. Simply take it there and then return to go back to doing whatever it is you janitors do around here."

"Hoh. courier work, is it?" Nameless eyed the codecast, analyzing it with his gray eyes for a moment before giving up. It was a thing of radical complexity and efficiency; as expected of Archimedes of Syracuse, really.

"Indeed, a suitable job for someone like yourself. Now, since this grunt work does not justify the amount of power it would take for you go there straight away and return, I have taken the right of... shall we say, optimizing the plan a little.

"You will be incarnated in a suitable body. The soul and mind will have been scrubbed and the corpus has been prepared to handle your spiritual core." Archimedes explained, only to be interrupted.

"Scrubbed? Explain."

Archimedes blinked before scowling at Nameless.

"Just that. The host body is a worthless gutter rat who has all but already died. The Moon Cell shall prepare it for you as a possessed vessel while it is still usable, allowing you to supply your own energy from it. The corpus is not of the highest material, but for the Moon Cell it will be an easy task to adapt it to your mind and soul. I even took the effort of re-arranging a few records retroactively to match you, Emiya Shirou."

Nameless did not react, his poker face holding blank at that.

"I see. And this is more efficient? Compared to simply direct analysis or transporting me there straight away?" He spoke, though with perhaps a bit more vehemence than he would have liked to let on. It did seem a bit much; couldn't the Eye of God simply analyze an object in the same system?

Archimedes nodded with a smirk, though the Administrator misunderstood the matter of contention. The reveal of his old name was of no real note; it simply was something he had left behind. What had bothered him was the use of someone's body like that; the sacrifice of someone to give him a platform and past to work through.

But if they were already dead, then perhaps it didn't matter. It wasn't something worth fighting about, Nameless decided. It wasn't like he hadn't sacrificed people before, either. He inhaled, closing his eyes as he thought about it.

"Alright, then." He said simply, accepting things as they were. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Other than mulling about his life some more and waiting for the Moon Cell to call upon him once in a blue moon.

Archimedes smiled, crossing his fingers in a satisfied gesture.

"Very good. Now, remember that you aren't there to play around. Get to Mars and activate the codecast and then come back. Nothing more, nothing less. You don't play around and you don't make waves. It's that simple."

Nameless, no—Emiya Shirou nodded and with that, the fate of the galaxy was forever altered.



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Thanks to anonymous guest reviewer on ff.net for spotting a date error. A lot of interesting and annoying problems when porting over text. I'll be slowly adding stuff, trying to figure out how to best do it.

Thanks to Gray Walker for proofreading.
 
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Chapter 2: Touching Ground

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
And then there was life.

Air rushed in through his nose, as hot blood coursed through his veins almost scalding his mind with the overflow of sensory information.

For a moment it was all too overwhelming.

The next, he simply acknowledged the change and it receded into the back of his mind, back into the subconscious routines where it had always been before. Emiya opened his eyes, the second inhalation just as putrid as the first had been. The rotten stench of refuse; the acrid odor of dust and pollution in the air; the smell of slow death and desperate struggle.

Noise. Distant and muted. Yet obviously that of an urban settlement all around him.

Darkness and light. The contrast only a night in a city could bring—the darkness of the starry vault above made nearly black by the brightness all around him, polluting the vista with artificial lights. Yet his eyes grew accustomed to it quickly as he exhaled slowly.

Cracked concrete and worn out buildings greeted him, the rundown urban environment around him strikingly familiar despite the alien and unfamiliar details here and there. In the distance, he could see a flying car blitzing through his field of vision. Further yet, great glowing advertisements that seemed akin to burning giants against the dark horizon, and tall sparkling glass spires that threatened to pierce the heavens themselves. It struck him as alien, if only for an instant, before the human-like elements in design settled in and the familiarity shone through. For all that this was an era obviously unfamiliar to him, it could not have been too far into the future.

Perhaps ten, twenty years? Thirty at most, he scoffed.

At his feet lay discarded wrappers and half-crushed processed foodstuffs, explaining the smell. He was sitting right next to a dumpster, with his frail back against a hard wall. Raising a hand, the needle still halfway into his skin fell out and clattered against the ground, soon to be followed by a fat drop of blood welling out of the perforation in his arm.

Emiya grimaced. Nothing to be done about it, he's long-dead. Whoever he once was.


For a moment he was struck by the dissonance of this situation, of how piercingly human it all was. Here he lay, dead-and-recovered of an overdose, surrounded by refuse and squalor. Yet there just in the distance, almost within the reach of his all-too-thin fingers it seemed, lay the wonders that humanity could achieve. Another light, trailing through the dark sky shone a blazing path into the heavens and beyond. His eyes followed it, until it vanished from sight into the night sky.

Somehow, that duality of the destitute and impoverished living at the feet of the mighty and affluent seemed so familiar, that any and all doubts he had about being on Earth were utterly blown away.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same, huh..." He huffed, getting up and ignoring the sense of vertigo while stubbornly refusing to lean against the wall for support. This body was quite weak, he could tell that from just this much. "...Where am I?"

He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he pushed a trace amount of magical energy into his vision to enhance it. Pushing past the light pollution of the city around him, he saw the stars in the night sky. He recognized the formations and the alignments quickly enough, as he had often relied on them for navigation before. Even when all other things failed, the stars above never ceased guiding him. But it also confirmed what he had been told before. He wasn't on another planet.

"...Earth, huh," he complained quietly.

How was he supposed to get to Mars from Earth? Especially with a body like this? He doubted there were any public fares to the red planet or that he could simply stow away on a ship. Are there any ships capable of going to Mars, even?

Even if he abandoned his body and used his Servant-self to travel, he wouldn't be able to make it there on his own. Even with the buffer of his Independent Actions skill, he would still perish before making it there. He doubted he would even be able to get off the planet under his own powers. This seemed all too complicated compared to how easy it would be to simply scan something using the Moon Cell's own facilities, he groused.

Then again, it did seem fairly interesting.

It was unusual for a Heroic Spirit to be able to live and exist among humanity after their passing into legend. Doubly so for a mere guardian like himself. The only real exception given was inside the cybernetic world of the Moon Cell, as in such a place a soul alone was sufficient for existence. While they remained inside that world, they could live as they once had. But given a corpus, a body... He chuckled, smiling despite the monumental task set before him.

Perhaps whatever bureaucratic decision that had led to this wasn't such a bad thing after all. Really, this was just a vacation to him. Even if he was to keep his head low, this was really quite a welcome respite from the nothingness of the Moon Cell's facsimile of a world.

Emiya walked out into the streets from the dark alley, looking around and drinking in the sights. Spray-painted gang signs and tags littered every surface within reach from the ground-level, the pavement was cracked and old, every metallic surface in sight was covered in rust and patina from years of disrepair.

Yet somehow, this place felt refreshing to him. No, that was the wrong word. Familiar. It was familiar to him. He smiled, taking his first steps into the world of the 22nd century.


;



"Hey, who the fuck are you! Never seen you 'round here!"

Emiya turned to look at the speaker, finding him leaning against a wall at the street corner. He had only walked a few blocks, so far, looking around and getting his bearings when he had been called out to.

"You know what street this is?" The stranger called out, now swaggering up to Emiya, obviously looking for trouble.

"Seventh and Baker's," Emiya replied, his eyes not wavering from the man's even as he analyzed the situation. Alone, has a knife but no gun. Possibly high; fresh blunt trauma around neck, emotional and unbalanced. Got beaten up and now looking for some stress relief on easy pickings? A punk, in other words.

"The fuck you say, bitch?!" The punk screamed, his growing agitation obvious as he leaned over so that he was practically staring down, having closed distance already. "This is the fucking West Hounds' street! That means it's my street, ya hear?!"

Emiya blinked, more out of the stench of the man's breath washing over him than anything else. There was little danger in this situation, despite the obvious and overt hostility the punk was showing. Had he wanted to put down Emiya, he would have attacked already. A dog only bites when it has stopped barking.


"Alright then. I'll make sure to notify the city officials that there has been an error in the street signs," Emiya said, turning around and moving to walk away.

"Hey, hey, hey! I wasn't fucking done talking to you, fuckhead!" The thug shouted and Emiya blinked as he was yanked back and lifted into the air by two fists grabbing a hold of his filthy shirt.

And this is why I hated being short... Emiya thought, his mood steadily turning worse as he realized his feet were helplessly dangling in the air.

"You think you can just walk up here and disrep me—" The thug began to shout at him again, but Emiya didn't bother to listen as the hammer inside his mind struck down.

Magical energy flooded his limbs as his body temperature spiked for an instant. His fist lashed out before the thug could even finish his sentence, knocking his head back as the whites of his eyes showed. The grip slackened, and Emiya landed on his feet, sighing as the thug slowly but surely fell over backwards against the wall and sliding down to the ground.

Emiya rolled his fist, checking the wrist and fingers for damage with some annoyance. Punching someone in the face with your bare fists was ill-advised normally, as the hand really was all too fragile to handle being forced to contend against the relatively hard structure of the skull. But he had Reinforced his hand, meaning it should have been fine, except—That would have broken four of the bones normally.

What the hell had this kid been eating before he died?

"Guh... You little, piece of..." The thug groaned, trying to sit back up and Emiya sighed. Even with Reinforcement, I couldn't even knock him out?

It was a proportional increase, meaning that it relied on the physical base to work. It was different for something like Magic Burst, but for him it was necessary to have a strong body to be able to fight freely. A body wholly unlike his current one.

Emiya shook his head and kicked down thug one more time, using the bottom of his foot to merely bounced the punk's skull off of the wall for damage and then turned to leave. If putting down one lone thug was this difficult, trying to cut through the rest of the gang's territory was definitely not a good idea. He needed to find some place to hunker down and get some food and information.

Which means breaking and entering. Good thing he was an old hand at that.



;


Emiya sighed, rubbing his brow as he stared at the screen in front of him.

2172 CE. One hundred and sixty years had passed since his execution.

Which meant getting to Mars was apparently entirely possible, even if he had no idea how to go about getting there. But at least now he knew both when and where he was now. The Age of Space Exploration, he mused with a shake of his head as he continued browsing leisurely. Humanity had certainly come far since his death, that much he had to admit as he took another bite of his sandwich. Still, that made knowing where his body had been even more depressing. For all that Humanity had achieved, apparently few of the social ills had been fixed. The average lifespan had shot up to 150 years; most if not all diseases had been eradicated and technology had advanced to a point where the most incredible things could be realized...

Yet nothing had seemingly changed. There were still less chairs to go around than there were people playing the game. His short walk through the city had been enough to prove that.

It wasn't surprising, not really. He hadn't expected his actions to truly change anything in the long run, he had known that it was simply his selfishness that drove him onward. He knew that the most efficient method for advancement was for the weak to be devoured by the strong. He knew that changing the nature of man would not be so easily accomplished, or that the solution to the age-old dilemma of inequality would not be realized within such a short span of time...

But still.

Hadn't he died with hope? That in this world of tomorrow things would be different? That his sacrifice might be another brick in the road to that world of justice? He scoffed, his appetite waning at those thoughts. There was too much resignation and bone-deep weariness in him now to care beyond the old self-recriminations and regrets in him.

Emiya sighed, shaking his head as he took another bite of the sandwich he had made. Even if he didn't want to eat, he needed to. It would be a waste, given the expiration dates listed on the ingredients and the dust that had been pilling up in this apartment. No one had been here for a while, he had judged before breaking in. Precisely the kind of place he had been looking for.

Besides, he'd concluded that no one actually lived here and that for whatever reason someone still came over to clean and fill the fridge once a month or so. Perhaps it was someone's second home or a getaway house. It didn't really matter, as long as no one showed up while he was here. Additionally there was a computer—which took some time to figure out on Emiya's part—which gave him plenty of information, and a fridge full of foodstuffs that would go to waste if no one ate it.

Of course, the numerous cameras had been slightly concerning, but he'd simply covered his face. Some of them were hidden, while some of them were right out in the open, too. And upon closer inspection he had found them turned off. Perhaps it was some kind of hideout or sting operation set? Well, he had simply continued to cover his face and avoided leaving any fingerprints.

It was possible that there were more advanced methods of identification, but he hoped that it would be judged too much effort for a couple of sandwiches, if anyone even noticed it. The security system, once he had reasoned it out through some liberal application of Structural Analysis, was easy enough to subvert and intrude through. No alarms had been tripped and no signs of his intrusion would remain. So no one should be coming here, for now. At least not because of his presence, which left him with a place to stay at for the moment.

The shower had been nice, though disconcertingly enough there were cameras in the bathroom as well. He'd washed his clothes and made some repairs while he was at it.

Then, he had taken to the computer. Or what he had thought was a computer, anyhow. For a moment, he had felt worried that he would have to break into another house, until he found one he could use. Already in his lifetime, personal computers had grown more and more ubiquitous, so the idea that there wasn't one had seemed baffling given the obvious workstation he had discovered.

Ultimately he had been vindicated as he found it, though figuring out how it worked was another thing entirely. At least it wasn't password locked; just turning it on had brought him to what seemed like the desktop. The more things change...

Still, he made sure to only look up the information he needed in the vaguest possible terms. Then again, given the general nature of information that he needed, it probably really didn't matter. If he had found a library or a public computer, he could have just as well looked up everything he needed there. He doubted anyone would care if they knew he was trying to look up information on Mars.

Emiya read about everything and anything, as his existence in the Moon Cell did not especially lend itself to keeping up with outside happenings and events. Unlike in the event of a Grail War, there had been no knowledge of the era granted to him. He had simply been plopped into a human body by Archimedes and told to get the job done. So he took his time his reading, getting familiar with everything and anything.

He read about Mars among other topics, which was something of a galactic backwater apparently, which amused him to no end. In his lifetime, it had been seen as an exciting new frontier into space. A faraway but eminently realizable goal the represented the infinite potential of all that lay beyond it. Now, you had to wait six months to book for a freighter there because that was the only time anyone flew there with any regularity to drop off supplies. And he didn't have the money for that, either.

Some things did have to change, after all.

There weren't many options in how to get there he eventually found out, which was somewhat troubling. The number of methods could be counted on one hand, with fingers left over. If he wanted to get out of the Sol system and into another star system entirely, that was easy enough apparently. But catching a ride to Mars? Something else entirely, that.

Of course... With enough money he could get there in no time at all.

But that wasn't exactly something he possessed at the moment. Perhaps he could rob someone for money or steal a ride, but that would be altogether too noticeable. With advances in information technology, tracking money or a vehicle was apparently a cinch. He wouldn't get very far that way.

Perhaps he could have counterfeited himself a vast sum of money, but given his background getting off the ground would be a lot of trouble. He could exactly sell gold on the street and any pawnshop would think him a thief, even if he tried to start out small. So what was left to him was a slow and more legitimate route. Building himself up and accruing wealth until he could pay for personal passage or wait until the supply ship came around to Earth and then stay on board until it dropped him off on Mars.

Which would be making a considerably amount of waves. Not quite public notice-level, but enough that he hesitated. He wasn't sure about how much attention it was okay for him to garner, but he was pretty sure that most of his methods would be crossing the line. Archimedes certainly hadn't given him an easy assignment...

Not that he was out of options, as one simple route presented itself to him after an hour of digging. The thing was however, that where it would be cheap and low-key, it would require a considerable investment of time on his part.

As in, a minimum of two months. At least.

"Was this really the best way? No, of course it wasn't. It was just the easiest way for that guy," Emiya muttered under his breath, accepting things as they were with a sigh.

Checking out the internet—or rather, the extranet as it was called today—had also led him to realize that the surface of the Moon was actually inhabited by humanity already. Some 4 million lived on Luna, mostly in the capital Armstrong. It would have seemed more reasonable to him to incarnate on the Moon and acquire passage from there to Mars. The supply ship he had found went by the Moon and Mars months ahead of making the Earth-to-Mars passage.

Could he assume Archimedes had not simply paid enough attention to detail to notice such a thing—which was a distinct possibility, still—or should he assume that the lunar settlements lacked suitable bodies for him to possess? Perhaps it would have been possible for him to simply go through the Moon's facilities as an astralized Heroic Spirit. Or was there some kind of time limit on Archimedes part for taking action?

Emiya leaned back, shaking his head. It doesn't matter. I'll just do it however I can.

He knew everything he needed to, but he would have to wait until dawn at least before he could do anything else. The offices wouldn't open before that, he was sure. His eyes landed on one of the cameras hidden in the room. It wasn't pointing at him, rather it was pointed at a king-size bed. His curiosity had been pecking at him for a while now, and finally having nothing more to distract himself with, he had to wonder.

Why the cameras? And the bed smelled heavily of chemicals, as if it had been dunked and left to soak in a vat of industrial grade cleaner more than a time. He frowned, turning back to the computer. There had been a folder that seemed relevant to the recording devices, but he hesitated for a second.

"Eh, what the hell..." He muttered, opening the a recording.

"Hi, I'm Aubrey, 18 years old and I love big krogan di—"

"Yeah, okay. No," he muttered, closing the computer and rubbing his brow. He was definitely not going to sleep here tonight, he thought with a shake of his head. "No wonder this place is empty."

He sighed and stared at the rest of the sandwich, before throwing it away—having lost his appetite—and leaving the apartment the same way he had come, leaving no traces of his passing.

What's a krogan, anyhow?


;


The sun rose slowly, turning the dark towers of ebony glass into something majestic and wondrous as they sparkled and shone like pillars of glittering light all around him. He sat next to the glass doors of the office building he had looked up earlier, back when he had had access to the internet. Extranet, he reminded himself.

It had taken quite a bit of walking and more than one sneak aboard a public transport to make it here. For whatever reason, it seemed that they did not deem it fit to have an office in the slums. Instead, they had a small office in the nice part of town, inside a strip mall. Though at this early hour the doors were still closed, the polished and flawless glass reflecting his gaze back quite clearly.

He had looked at the reflection, wondering whether they would accept, him but at this point there was little point in hesitation. Either they would or they wouldn't; he would simply think of something else once it came to that.

Still, this did seem like the best opportunity to check himself out. He closed his eyes, letting his breathing relax.

And he stepped out of his body, feeling almost like he was expanding after being forced to exist in a cramped space. Opening his eyes, he observed himself. His spiritual core was functioning as expected, allowing him to manifest as a Servant outside of his body. At a minute expense of magical energy, of course.

Luckily this container came with the Independent Action skill which minimized that drain, though at its current rank he could only manifest in this manner for a single day before it would become a problem. Twenty four hours was not much, but given that when he was outside of his body it would be completely unresponsive, it was probably for the best. Staying out of his body for more than twelve hours would make it seem like he wasn't merely sleeping, thus he resolved to avoid more than ten hours of operation in his true form.

It was vital to always keep enough in reserve for an emergency, after all. Already he could feel his energy stores trickling slowly as he maintained himself in the astral state.

It was not like his body acted as a Master, or anything. It was merely a shell that he could reside in and use to slowly refill his magical energy reserves as it naturally generated life force for him. Were he to forcefully materialize so as to fight as he wished, it would no doubt be even more taxing. He would have to limit its use as much as possible. Of course, fighting in the body was always an option. But that would have consequences.

He had shied away from relying too much on that in his life, for a reason.

Turning to look at this body he frowned. It was somewhat strange to look at himself from the outside. Whoever or whatever the previous owner of this body had been, there remained no traces of him now. The corpus matched the pattern of the soul, or perhaps Archimedes had seen fit to alter it for optimal performance even before Emiya had come to inhabit the flesh.

Or something like that.

Auburn hair, fair skin and the features he had always known from the mirror; it really was him that sat there on the pavement. The him from a long, long time ago. The body couldn't have been older than fifteen, sixteen at most—a carbon copy likeness of his self in high school, though far thinner and in worse shape. Emiya shook his head, rubbing his darker features with a calloused hand. Or something to that effect, as he had not manifested a body at the moment and simple existed as a spiritual entity.

How long will it take for this body to burn out, I wonder? Perhaps he should cut off the flow of magical energy from his spiritual core to the body? That would minimize the osmosis and probably slow down the rate at which the body would come to look like him. It should also limit its performance to mostly human levels, but that was probably for the best. Going all out would be like strapping a jet engine to a bicycle, after all.

He brought up a hand, concentrating on the codecast he had been entrusted. The glowing blue orb appeared in his hand, invisible to all, just as he was. He stared at it, uncertain what to make of it. Archimedes was a famed engineer as well as mathematician, though his reputation was quite a bloody one nonetheless. For a moment Emiya considered whether he would be able to tell if this was a bomb or weapon of some kind, or if Archimedes possessed sufficient skills to obscure such mechanisms from him. He peered at it, frowning.

It couldn't be helped; he would do as he had been instructed for now. Bloody though Archimedes' tale may be and an arrogant man he was, that did not erase the fact that Emiya Shirou had forged a contract with the Moon Cell.

He had received his miracle and in turn he would repay it.

The doors opened and Emiya sighed, dissipating the codecast and letting his spirit settle back into the narrow and tight confines of the body that lay still against the wall. The guard who had opened the locks from the inside noticed him and began to walk towards him. No doubt to chase him off; homeless street urchin's lounging about at the entrance would only unsettle paying customers, after all.

Emiya opened his eyes and stood up. Though he hadn't slept through the night, he felt fine. He met eyes with the guard and he affected a polite smile. The man hesitated, looking him up and down before frowning and remaining silent.

Though the clothes Emiya wore were old, he wasn't dirty or smelly any more. He merely seemed like a youth from perhaps a poor family, wearing ratty hand-me-downs. That shower and wash he had taken at the apartment had definitely been worth it. He had also considered using Reinforcement to repair his clothes but decided that it would be a needless expenditure. Or worse yet, counter-productive to the image he wanted to play soon enough.

The guard frowned at him, but said nothing and went back to his duties. But the message was clear; 'I've got my eyes on you, kid'. He entered the mall, noting with some amusement how familiar the establishment felt despite the alien names and brands all around him. The walk was short and he couldn't help but frown as he found the door closed.

Emiya sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Nothing to it but to wait some more, then. It was only another hour until the doors opened and Emiya walked in without hesitation. The uniformed man gave him a curious glance, but did not question his entry immediately.

"Good morning, sir." Emiya spoke sharply, making sure to tailor his words and voice to the situation. A good first impression went a long way, though it shouldn't be all too difficult to get what he wanted here. The man before him ought to literally want the same thing as Emiya did, after all. That being so, he still mentally ran over the persona he would be adopting for this talk. Alright, affect politeness. But be firm. Determined. 'I' need this, so 'I' won't be swayed.

"Well a fine morning to you as well, son. Now how can I help you?" The man in the neat blue uniform answered. "Perhaps some coffee or tea?"

Emiya glanced at the instant stuff for a moment before shaking his head. "No, thank you. I've come to enlist in the Alliance Navy."

The unformed man licked his lips, squinting at Emiya for a moment. "Now sonny, aren't you a little bit young to be making such decisions?"

"Old enough to decide what to do with my life, at the very least."

The man seemed more amused by that than anything else. "That's what all the kids say, heh. My own girl would like nothing more than to dictate how she should live her life. But son, that's what parents exist for. Joining the Navy is a big decision, especially for an underage citizen such as yourself. Without your parents' consent, I couldn't possibly—"

"That won't be necessary." Emiya cut in, with a carefully blank face.

"...Pardon?"

"I'm living on the street, with nothing but the clothes I'm wearing to my name. I'm not even sure how old I am, but I do know that this is the most reasonable option available to me right now."

That brought the Alliance Navy Recruiter up short as he peered down at Emiya. He opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it as he closed his mouth.

Emiya continued, gesturing at his body. "Besides, it's probably mostly just undernourishment."

"Well, that's..."

"It's this or a life of crime, really. And that will just take me to bad places, sir. I want to do something with this life." Emiya continued, laying it thick as he could feel the man wavering. Of course, nothing of what he had said was untrue, exactly. It was simply phrased in a manner that suggest something other than what Emiya actually meant.

Using the Navy was the most reasonable option to him; he would have to resort to some form of crime to get to Mars otherwise. Be it stealing a shuttle or enough funds to purchase a shuttle-ride there. Either way, it would be quite risky. If he stole a vessel, assuming he even figured out how to operate it, he would no doubt be caught by whatever space-faring equivalent to the police there existed.

Flying from Earth to Mars was not like stealing a car and stopping in the next town, after all.

And if he started getting the funds to purchase a ride there, he would have to work out a mountain's worth of issues. He had no ID and he lacked any existing capital, thus anything he did would be faced with suspicion and scrutiny.

Thus, Emiya thought that simply enlisting was the most reasonable option. It was a rational choice for a street urchin, looking to escape the rough life. And once he was on Mars, he could simply leave behind this body as an empty husk and aside from some paperwork no one would probably care about the apparent vegetable of an enlisted they now had in their hands.

The two sat in a silence, staring at each other for a minute. Outside, the rest of the city awoke slowly as people began to pass by the glass window. Shoppers, workers, people simply passing by. People of all walks of life seemed to pass through his peripheral vision before the man finally sighed.

"Alright. I'll... go make some calls, see what I can do and ask some people what they think..." He said, rising up to walk over to another room. "Oh, and... Help yourself to the cinnamon buns and coffee. There's hot cocoa, too. It's warm, if nothing else."

He gave an assuring smile and then left. Emiya exhaled, crossing his fingers as he waited. Now he could only wait and hope. To be honest, joining a military wasn't exactly high up on things he particularly wanted to do, but given that the easiest way for him to get to Mars lay this way, it couldn't be helped.

It was simple enough; go through boot camp on Earth and then apply for one of the branches that were trained on Mars' southern hemisphere. Once there, getting to the ruins should be easy enough. Sure, it would be a slow route. But given that Archimedes hadn't given him anything resembling a means to get there, it would have to do.

Well, at least he was familiar with military life from before. Though mostly from acting as a trainer in an irregular outfit waging asymmetrical warfare. He hadn't even been through a boot camp, but it couldn't be that bad compared to what he had put himself or others through.

His wait wasn't all too long, all things considered. Little over an hour later, the man returned as he sat down across from Emiya.

"Had a long talk, but it looks good. Well, let's see how it goes. I'll have to verify your identity, which seems like it will not be the easiest thing, I'm guessing... And then we'll have to get all the papers cleared and signed. But, if all things go well, then you'll be off to start your training by the end of the day." The man offered a slightly wean smile, but Emiya only nodded to accept the words.

"Thank you, you've made my life a lot simpler, sir," Emiya answered with a satisfied expression.



;



It wasn't quite as simple as that, but in the end it didn't matter as he was on his way.

Emiya sat in a shuttle, headed for boot camp. As it happened, as the Systems Alliance began to grow in scale the need for a more unified training regimen began to appear. To that end, on Earth there existed only a handful of facilities that handled the training and fitting of new recruits despite the huge number of people signing up biannually. So, a simple street urchin without a penny to his name was being flown halfway across the world in an otherwise empty shuttle. Certainly, there was some minor cargo as well. But aside from the pilot, he was the only other person aboard this shuttle.

Which gave him plenty of time and leeway when it came to observing anything and everything inside of it.

At first on that night he had opened his eyes in the dark alleyway, he had simply accepted the flying cars in the sky as a part of the future. Such things had been romanticized enough in his time that the appearance of such vehicles was only a matter of time given the unstoppable march of technological progress.

But as he finally got to board one himself, he could not help but grow curious. This was no alien technology—or, well. It was, in a sense, from what he had already read—but rather something any human being could understand and learn. It was fascinating and he could not help but extend his grasp through his magical energy as he reproduced the schematics of the vessel in his mind.

"'Element Zero', what unusual material." He huffed, nodding to himself.

Carefully prodding the engine at work, he took care not to mess with anything. Magical energy was poison, but when you arrive at a certain level it becomes possible to bend those rules. Strictly speaking, analyzing the engine of the vehicle he was inside, in mid-air, was a terrible idea.

Terrible, as in a sudden and fiery death in a crash-terrible.

But his curiosity got the better of him. Extending his senses, eyes closed and his breathing stilled, he could feel the grain of the eezo core that allowed this shuttle to fly. It was quite alike a magnet, really.

It reminded him also quite a bit of the gravity magecraft that he had seen a time or two, though still very different at its core. He wondered if perhaps the principle behind it was the same, but dismissed the errant thought as he continued to learn and investigate the systems of the ship.

There wasn't much else to do, anyhow.

To his surprise, he realized that while eezo was an exotic element formed under very rare stellar conditions, it wasn't something that he couldn't replicate. It wouldn't be perfect, but it might work on the smaller scale. Well, it was amusing to know that he still had the option of flooding the market with forged valuable base elements if he wanted to. Not that he would, for a variety of reasons. But having access to liquidateable assets was always good. He would have to experiment with it a little before he tried to make use of it.

Compared to the far-off flying cars in the night sky, honestly having a closer look at this shuttle was more magical to him. He could sense the pride of the designers, the sweat and effort of the engineers and the trust of the pilots as he combed through the vessel with a fine-tooth comb. It was a work of marvel; a testament to humanity in a sense.

As a craftsman, he could appreciate something of this quality on many levels even if he could not make use of it as a magus. A sword is a sword, a ship is a ship, and all that. But it was still a marvel of engineering and craftsmanship.

Finally, after what felt like several hours they made touchdown. Still, the trip had been far shorter than he had been used to from his old life. Though, as he had learned what this shuttle could do, he was far from surprised.

As the shuttle door opened, a uniformed man stepped in and made eye contact with him.

"Well, come on then."

Emiya nodded, sitting up and moving to follow the man. Following three steps behind, he had a chance to observe the third member of the Systems Alliance Navy he had seen so far. They all seemed to fit the same general profile; young, very fit, male, neatly trimmed hair—per regulation, he assume—and a casual, almost relaxed air about them.

The walk was quite long, taking them through the landing port, several buildings and more outdoors locations, until they arrived at a simple lounge. Though at first he had found the architecture quite novel, but upon seeing how ubiquitous and uniform it was regardless of where on the planet you were, Emiya was beginning to find it less and less appealing by the minute. Was everything pre-fabricated using the same blueprints, or was it a merely a result of the construction methods that everything acquired that look?

"Sit down and wait until someone gets you. Do not leave this lounge, got it?" The man said, pointing at a chair. Emiya nodded, saying nothing. "If you are caught wandering, you will be treated with extreme prejudice by facility personnel, am I understood?"

Emiya nodded again, but as the man continued staring he finally caught on. "Understood, Sir."

He huffed, turning on his foot and leaving with a single curt word. "Good."

Emiya sat down, a small smile on his face. The more things change, the more they stay the same. 'Hurry up and wait' as it were, seemed to still be an integral part of the organized military experience. That, and the petty desire for dominance among the youngest of the NCO.

Two of the core reasons why he could never stand working in large groups for long.

Certainly on that scale, downtime for individuals was inevitable. But for him in those days, it was unacceptable to be doing nothing. He always busied himself with something, be it repairs or training. The thought of slowing down was repugnant. It was something that had nothing to do with him as an existence. And that always lead him to clash with people who regarded him as a step below in a chain of command. Which was why had simply refrained from joining any organizations. He got more done on his own.

Well, after his death that had changed. Both things, really.

There wasn't much to do in the Moon. He had always been patient, but the languor he experienced there turned it into something else. Perhaps it was the memories; the knowledge and observations of the Moon Cell which were made available to him that changed him so. Stuck with nothing but his own thoughts and the unchanging eternity, he had grown introspective and stolid.

And after that, he had begun to wonder about his life. About his choices. About the ideals and that expression he had seen at the beginning of his life. Whether any of it had been real or if he had simply thought it had been. As a child such a mistake might have been acceptable to let pass. But he had kept on running, stubbornly refusing to back down or slow his pace to let others match him, even as he grew up and confronted the world as an adult.

Emiya shook his head; he was brooding again.

"Might as well sleep," he concluded, closing his eyes.

It wasn't long until he noticed someone approaching, however. He opened his eyes to watch as a new person appeared to the waiting area. Wearing a green, white and black uniform of different design from the others, it was a woman in her forties that approached him.

"Well, hello there. You must be Shirou Emiya, correct?" She spoke with a polite smile; a professional mask of courtesy, born of several decades of practice.

"Yes, ma'am." He answered curtly, standing up.

"I am Doctor Roberts from MarsGene. Though it is a little bit late, we will be doing a screening of your genome. This way we can have you ready for gene therapy first thing in the morning, once the computer is all done," she said, speaking in an even and slow tone.

"Gene therapy?" MarsGene? Probably just a coincidence.

"Yes. After all, since you have no records we'll have to take a closer look. It's standard for military recruits. It was in your contract, on page—"

"54, yes. Though I had thought it only applied to the use of genetically engineered healing gels. The text was not quite so specific as to mention gene therapy." Emiya spoke evenly.

"Oh, well. It's quite standard. Completely safe; these are methods tested on quite literally billions of human beings already." She said, smiling in a reassuring manner. "But if you have objections, we can bring in an officer tomorrow for a discussion if that is alright? For now, let us simply do a genome scan, shall we? It is completely non-invasive and if nothing else, it will tell you about what has already been done to you or what kind of diseases you may be at risk to."

"...Alright. Lead the way."


;



Sleeping had been uncomfortable.

It was not the bed's fault, or any lack of exhaustion in his body that led to his problem. But rather... He hadn't slept before that in a very long time. Servants and Heroic Spirits did not generally dream and neither did he, even as he closed his eyes and fell into a slumber. Then again, he hadn't dreamed much for decades prior to his death either so perhaps nothing had actually changed.

His internal world was as ever, though it seemed slightly odd to return there after having walked again on Earth after such a long time.

Opening his eyes, Emiya stared at the ceiling above. A depressingly featureless surface, fitting for a military bunk somehow, he thought. It was before dawn, he noted with some annoyance. He hadn't been in a bed for a very, very long time. Yet old habits die hard and Emiya Shirou awoke before the crack of dawn as he always had.

It did not matter that the genome mapping had gone quite late into the night and that he had only gotten to bed at midnight; he needed very little sleep after all. Swinging his legs down to touch the cold floor, he hesitated.

It all felt incongruous. As if everything was in order and in place, except for something so small that then threw everything else into question. Something so minor and unnoticeable that it was impossible to see with the naked eye, but in the whole managed to shift everything just enough that the whole thing seemed alien and wrong.

"Ah..."

He hadn't trained the previous night, as had been his habit since as far as he could remember.

Even the night before his execution he had trained, since that was his habit. Yet, last evening he had done no such thing. He frowned and then closed his eyes. Twenty seven ghostly circuits awoke within his body and hummed with power. He frowned and then sighed, hiding them once more. There was little point he thought; he had reached his peak. There was nowhere for him to go, in a sense. Nothing to learn, nothing to train, nothing to experiment. He knew his talents well enough to simply say "that is possible" and "that is not possible" and could tell off-hand what he would have to pay for achieving that.

Yet, something inside of him craved for that, which he no longer had any need or use for.

Well, it wasn't like he could simply go and make breakfast either, so it could not be helped. He sighed and crossed his legs as he sat on the cold floor, wearing nothing but the ratty underclothes.

"Emiya Shirou is a creature of habit, after all," he muttered wryly.


;


"Good morning ma'am," Emiya spoke as he entered the office.

Doctor Roberts looked up from her screen and smiled at him, offering him a seat and then going back to reading in silence. The quiet moment stretched, though Emiya simply accepted it as a part of how things worked. Finally, after reading for a long moment, she sighed and looked at him.

"Well, I have checked and re-checked, but it seems there is no mistake."

"Hmm, well that certainly sounds ominous," Emiya quipped. She blinked at him and then laughed lightly.

"Mm, oh it's nothing so serious. It isn't anything good either, but that is what MarsGene is here for, I suppose." She spoke somewhat quietly, as she looked out the window. She took a deep breath before turning the screen so that he could see the results as well. "You've certainly had an interesting life, mister Emiya."

For a moment, Emiya wondered just what it was possible to divine from a person's genome. He weighed the possibility of his unique situation being revealed and considered what he should do. But then he clamped down on those thoughts and maintained his silence. Outwardly, his face did not so much as twitch at her words.

"Back in medical school, I was told that each and every human being already enjoyed the basic benefits of our scientific advancements. And that was well over 20 years ago already, goodness me." She spoke, seemingly saddened about the topic.

Emiya felt a slight urge to comment that she did not look a day over 20, but clamped down on it. It was hardly the time and place.

"But here you are... Lacking any and all genetic therapy. I found at least three genetic diseases in your genome and a complete lack of the basic benefits most of us have already come to enjoy in the 22nd century."

"Oh...?" Emiya asked, growing curious.

"Yes. For example, if you would look here..." She began to explain, using several images as aides as she talked.

He was not sure whether this was due to his host body, due to Archimedes' intervention or even due to his soul filling his vessel, but he felt quite interested as she continue to point out various parts of what she called a map of his genome. "So what does this mean in practice?"

"Well, usually we only supply the basic enhancements that the Alliance Navy specifies for their recruits... But given that it is considered nigh-on a human right at this point to receive genetic therapy, I cannot in good faith not include it as well... Well, we will have to apply for a grant based on the Sudham-Wolcott Genetic Heritage Act, but I am quite certain that it will be fine.

"Still, there is a limit to what can be done. It leaves me aghast that people still do not screen and treat their children as soon as possible. So many things that could be corrected, were you still just a little bit younger... Well, it can't be helped. We shall simply have to make do." She smiled at him, though it felt more patronizing than reassuring.

He had understood the commonplace nature of genetic modification and enhancement, especially in a military setting. Yet for someone who had only seen the most rudimentary of applications during his life it felt slightly strange.

"The biggest problem will of course be your physical conditioning." She sighed, shaking her head. "Most if not all of the recruits will have received the gene therapy years in advance as the results are quite slow to show. Military families and those who know well in advance what they wish to do with their life get it years before actually signing up, you see..."

"So... You can't give me the physical enhancements?" He asked, tilting his head at her.

"Oh, oh no! You will receive them, don't worry about that. It's just that..." She hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "You will not be receiving any of the benefits during most of your training. It will be years before they begin to show most of the effects. You will be in boot camp with hundreds of others, all who surpass you physically and mentally, I'm afraid. It won't be easy. It isn't easy even for normal recruits, I think. But for you, keeping up will be even harder."

Emiya nodded at that.

"How much of a difference are talking about here?"

"Well... It's difficult to say, since there isn't exactly a reliable baseline any more given the many decades of genetic therapy has been in use. I could show you the old comparisons from when the first tests were conducted, but the techniques and methods have improved quite a bit since... But it should be obvious in everything. Physical strength, agility, endurance, healing and recovery, metabolism, vision, hearing, immune system... Anything and everything the Systems Alliance thinks will be useful for their Navy." She explained, smiling sadly.

"If it can't be helped, then it's fine. Just do what you have to and I'll deal with the rest as it comes."

She blinked at his words before nodding, though he could tell she simply thought he was putting up a strong front. Mostly he felt curious about the procedure. As long as it was physically possible for him, he wasn't worried about what was to come. Even then, as long as he simply tapped into his magical potential, he would be able to more than keep up.

Of course, that would run the risk of performing beyond his supposed limits and alerting others to his strange nature. But it shouldn't have to come to that, considering that he was only aiming for Mars. That should easily be achievable even during his basic training, before he was deployed into anything resembling active duty.

"Well, let's get the paperwork out then. We have a whole day ahead of us." She said, smiling comfortingly. "Don't worry, I will give you the best MarsGene can offer. With the extra budget you two will get through the grant—which I am sure you will, you if anyone deserve it—we can put the best on the market to good use."

Emiya shrugged. "If you say so."


;


It had been a slow week for Emiya.

Apparently it was the off season in terms of recruitment so he was in a strange spot. Usually there were two busy times of the year when the majority of fresh recruits signed up, but as it was there would only be a few in his batch.

Which was fine, he supposed. Archimedes hadn't contacted him once, thus Emiya reasoned that taking the slow but sure route to Mars was fine. Perhaps the man had simply forgotten all about it already. For Emiya, the last few days were filled with nothing but strange and unusual medical procedures at the behest of MarsGene.

His strange timing for enlistment was apparently for the better, as going by Dr. Roberts' comments if there were any more recruits to handle she would be hard pressed to keep up with it all. He hadn't seen anyone else, but apparently they were all handled here and had more or less been according to standard, aside from a handful of unusual cases such as himself.

He had been following with rapt attention, Structurally Analyzing himself at every opportunity, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. But it seemed that analysis of individual genes was beyond him, as while he could observe some changes he couldn't reason them out or understand how it all worked. Apparently it was more or less based on technology that had existed already in his time, but the current results were far beyond what could have been accomplished in those days.

Still it was all working as intended, Dr. Roberts assured him. She showed him how the treatments were taking hold, showing graphs and projections for how it would affect him and how many years it would take for them to be complete with his body. It was unusual, to say the least. Knowing that his entire body was changing now. That it would be changing, and there would be nothing to be done about it. That it was now an inevitable fact.

Emiya wondered if anyone had ever experienced existential dread at being changed from the inside without their own notice. Whether he would have felt anything if he didn't know that he was merely a Spirit inhabiting and possessing a body. Then again given that every molecule in the body changed every decade or so, he supposed it wasn't that unusual and it was just him.

He had asked whether it wouldn't be easier to perform at MarsGene's headquarters, which he assumed were on Mars, simply to get there quicker. But apparently they had long since moved off that planet with the rapid expansion of humanity as a whole. Like everything else nowadays, their main office lay on Arcturus Station. Proving once again the strange situation where it was easier to get out of the solar system than it was to get to the second closest planet. Of course, given the orbits, it wasn't quite that simple. Still, it had been worth a shot.

And before he knew it, he was done with the gene therapy and boot camp began as he was shuttled off again.


;


Thanks to Gray Walker for proofreading.
 
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Chapter 3: Adapting Onwards

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
Next few chapters won't be very action-heavy, but I'm hoping it will lay a solid foundation for later events and developments. Especially since a few reviews note that they weren't familiar with Mass Effect from before. I'll try to avoid excessive or gratuitous infodumps, but I've always liked the lore of ME so it will have something of a presence in the next few chapters.

Also, I began to wonder where exactly I pulled the title "Man off the Moon" from and I began to look around. I was sure it had nothing to do with the movie or the song "Man on the Moon" despite the name being a deliberate pun off of that, and then I finally realized where I had gotten the name from.

A youtuber by the name of Aron Headbutt makes Fate memes, one of which is "emiya's in the cradle" which I realized I have been humming for weeks now. It's just a part of the lyrics there, which somehow wormed itself into this project's name. He makes good stuff, so check him out if you feel like it and like that kind of stuff. Make sure to shitpost in the comments and tell him to update more regularly.

;



Standing in formation was certainly a new experience.

He had always been more used to less rigorously enforced outfits, units that had no need for such strict rules and regulations due to each member already being competent enough to not require such hand holding. Even back in his school days, the classroom discipline hadn't been quite like this. Everything about your body had to be precisely positioned; heels just so and so far apart, with your toes pointing out at such and such an angle; your arms had to be in such and such a line, perfectly parallel with your body; your gaze forward and eyes unmoving. Like that, they all stood arms width apart from one another, all toeing the same line in five rows in what somewhat looked like a rectangle if you squinted just right, outside their new barracks.

The place where they would be spending the next three months for their basic course. Boot camp. Or the 'E-line' as the Navy personnel in passing seemed to refer to it.

"I welcome you to my beautiful facility, here in Massachusetts, the most beautiful place on God's green Earth!" A man, standing on a podium before them shouted. He had no microphone or audio volume enhancers, but he did not apparently need one either given that his voice reached far and wide.

They had been told to line up by tallest to shortest and then set into formation. It had taken a while, given that many of them had never before in their lives been in anything more organized than a mob, Emiya included. Still, the idea was simple enough and with enough loud and clear instructions they slowly managed to get into something resembling a rectangle formation.

"And what a facility this is! The best in all the galaxy, bar none! The greatest, toughest, strongest and smartest soldiers in all of the universe are made right here! The only question is... Are you sorry louts good enough for my facility!?!"

Everyone stood silent, their attention glued to the man staring them down with his last words still echoing in their ears.

"Well?! Are you?"

"Sir, yes, sir." They answered as one, finally realizing their cue.

"I can't hear you! LOUDER!"

"Sir! Yes! Sir!"

"Good! Now, Recruits! You will begin taking your first steps into the vaunted and hallowed ranks of the Systems Alliance Navy! Be proud that you have chosen for yourselves a destiny where your actions will matter! Where your work shall be of importance and of value to all of Humanity!"

Emiya could almost hear the capitalization, as if mankind was some kind of holy concept that stood in opposition to all that was evil and different. The usual esprit de corps-mentality of organized military forces, really. Where before national loyalty, or even ethnicity and culture had played a unifying role, here and now with the whole of the galaxy as the stage it had apparently become necessary to scale up to include everyone.

"But not quite yet. As of right now, each and every single one of you is an E1! That means you are only almost worthless. Remember that! You are nothing yet. Nothing but POTENTIAL! And once I am done with you; once you have finished climbing all the way up to E7, you will finally be soldiers!"

Emiya ignored the rest, simply playing along as he continued to observe his new home and comrades through his peripheral vision. Perhaps due to the "off-season" affecting who was enlisting, morale was not that high among them. It seemed that mostly aimless wanderers and those who had no clear path in life had concentrated into this bunch of recruits.

Before he knew it, the initiation ceremony was over. The speech had been fine, he supposed, as far as such things went. But he ignored it for the most part. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, specifics and minor catches aside. Soon enough they were on their way again under the dutiful eye and instruction of NCOs—the non-commissioned officers. Getting supplies, organizing into twenty man squads and locating their quarters was accomplished promptly and with no delays. They all got their bunks and personal chests, stuffing it full as quickly as they could before they were ordered to form up and run to lunch.

Military food was about what he expected, and it appeared that few among them found it very palatable.

Still, it was highly nutritious and his body needed all that he could stuff in it, so he ate without complaint and took several additional helpings. Some of his new 'comrades' gawked at the smallest of them putting away twice of what any of the others could, but given that he needed to catch up to their physiques and was already behind schedule it couldn't be helped if he stood out a little. He ate all that he could, and then he ate some more.

On the way back, he had to control his breathing to make sure that nothing came back up the wrong way, but it wasn't a problem. After that, they took all their stuff out again and ran through checklists, as the NCOs shouted out an object's name and made them all hold it up as they signed in their checkboxes to make sure everyone had theirs. Some of the recruits grumbled about the fact that they had just received it all, and that it was impossible for any of it to be missing already. But the NCOs didn't care; they had checkboxes to fill and lists to go through.

And after that, as they had come in ahead of schedule, they were made to do it all over again, 'just to be sure'. Next on the schedule there were a bunch of more mundane tasks, mostly done so as to familiarize them with the tasks they would be doing regularly in the future. He quietly approved, as cleaning and checking all their gear for wear and tear or faults were important skills to be sure. Some complained that all the stuff was new so it made no sense, but Emiya knew that that was no excuse for when something failed you in the field. Check and recheck, always.

That, and some of the recruits had never cleaned anything before in their life, so the six hours spent on learning how to use the various mops, rags, sponges, dusters and chemicals was definitely important. Especially since they themselves would be responsible for keeping their sleeping quarters clean and orderly. Despite himself, he actually found himself fascinated with the obvious advances in fibers and designs in some of the cleaning tools while they were being instructed. So he absorbed everything they were told and showed like a proverbial sponge.

He appeared to be the only one however, as most of the recruits continued complaining until they began to receive physical punishments. When the choice was between push ups and learning how to dust the corners, nearly all of them finally capitulated.

They received no guns and no training on that first day and Emiya suspected it would be like that for the first few weeks. Rather, they would be exercising and eating for the most part, working up a base for later training along with being shown how to follow orders and how all things worked in the Navy. He did not know what the others had expected upon signing up but considering that he was effectively a street urchin, he didn't fault the Navy for having such low expectations for him. When you assume that your recruits are too dumb to tie their own shoelaces without guidance, you have a much smaller margin of error to deal with.

This he pretty much already knew from his own experiences as an instructor, before he observed it at work here.

Finally, at the end of the day, they were led to their quarters and told that they had an hour of free time before the evening routines would begin. Bringing down the Systems Alliance flag in formation, counting that everyone was present and accounted for, ceremonial greetings by the officers and such like.

It was quite different from how he had run his own boot camp once upon a time, but given the differences in scale and the aims involved, he figured that was be a given. Red team versus blue team, and all that. Overall, to him the day had barely been even a chore, given that he only needed to listen and follow orders.

Easy, but boring.

More than once his mind had gone back to the nano-fiber dust cloths with a certain longing.

"Holy hell! I didn't think it would be this tough!" One youth a few beds away from him loudly complained, making a swandive for his bunk.

"Yeah, sheesh. We must have counted our suits, like, twenty times!" Another answered, grousing along with equal fervor. "Like did they think we would eat them, or something?"

"Pfft, right. With the food we're supposed to eat, I just might."

"Man, when I went to the bathroom, the Chief fucking came in with me! How hard do you think it was to piss when she's staring right down at me, huh? I thought having a chick like her staring at my junk would be nice, but I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get it up after seeing the face she made..."

Everyone within hearing distance laughed, imagining the nervous recruit opting to sit down on the toilet as the stone-faced Chief of a woman continued to stare a hole through him. Some even mimed the scene, playing up how dainty and embarrassed the recruit must have been to roaring approval. The recruit who had been complaining grinned, already fitting in and obviously happy that he was making good with his buddies.

Emiya affected minor amusement as well to fit in, paying more attention to how many seemed ill at ease with life at the moment. The laughter and cheer was the soft balm, after the first day that seemed to have shattered many expectations and daydreams.

It wasn't so much the physical stress as it was simply the complete change in lifestyle.

Civilian life was characterized by freedom. Freedom to do whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But in the military, having a hundred headless chickens running around would only cause needless chaos. Rather than herding cats, it made sense to drill in everything and regulate it accordingly, so that everyone knew exactly how and when things were done. It would probably change later, but for their first months, they would be constantly monitored and told what to do by their NCO instructors. When to wake up, when to shower, when to eat, when to sleep and when to move.

It would all be regulated until they were fit for being inserted wherever the Alliance Navy had need of a new cog.

"Hey, check it out! It's our only bird!" One of them whistled as a young girl returned from outside the quarters. She was wiping her short, red hair with a synthetic nano-fiber towel as she walked by a dozen beds. Unlike the dust cloth, the towels were designed to absorb and dry up with extreme efficiency. It was honestly a marvel and something Emiya had already spent a good half hour analyzing in his bunk before now.

The young woman—a slip of a girl, really—looked up, scowling at the shouter, but he only laughed as she walked past him.

"Huh, we're sharing a room with a chick? Shouldn't she like have her own room, or something?"

"Duh, on starships there isn't enough space for that kind of shit, man. Didn't you read the manuals they mailed us?" Another noted, raising his arm and turning his omnitool on. Emiya looked curiously at the hologram construct that came into being around the other's arm, seeing one for the first time and observing it with rapt interest.

"Dude! You had your omnitool on? I thought they told us not to!"

"Nah, I took it with me and had it in my box during the day; the rules and regulations allow that much."

"Shit! I could have brought all my movies and—"

"Fuck that shit, man, who cares! What about the chicks?" A third joined in, throwing a pillow at the second to shut him up.

"Well, you could look up the sections about fraternization. They just about crucify everyone involved and hang their bodies as warnings. More or less, metaphorically. So be my guest, man. I'd love to see you try, but it won't be pretty. Heheh."

"Nah, fraternization is for the officers and stuff. We're still just enlisted, so—"

"So banging her is fine?" The horndog among them piped up, sounding excited.

"Nah, lemme finish. It's still listed as 'inappropriate relationship' under service regulations."

"Aww, what the fuck man..."

Emiya turned his interest away from the trio as the girl walked up and settled in the bed next to him. She was thin and scrawny, barely bigger than he was. And he had been a literal street urchin. Then again, judging by her wary behavior and physique, she had probably been one as well.

She noticed him looking and turned to glare at him.

"What?" She asked, almost growling at him.

Definitely someone who grew up alone on the streets, he judged.

In the places he tended to travel while he had still been alive, children and teens often formed up into gangs and groups for mutual safety and security. Which meant they were great eyes and ears on the ground, especially since they were so easily ingratiated into due to their low social status. A bit of food and water, some chocolate and jokes was usually all it took to gain a group of allies in whatever camp or ruin of a city he found himself in at the time. It was strange to think back and realize he had gotten along better with war orphans than anyone else, during those later years. They were too innocent to understand what kind of man I really was.

What did mass murderer and international terrorist mean to a child, when they had received warmth and acceptance from him?

The way she squared up at him, the way she seemed to be getting ready for a fight, hoping to make him back down with a show of aggression. All the signs were there. Skittish and wary, yet somehow so very easy to see through. He stared at her for another few seconds, waiting until she was just about to speak up again, allowing the tension to turn cross the threshold from a stand-off into an awkward staring contest.

And just before she was about to dismiss him—in that critical juncture where all her expectations were reset and her guard was down, he spoke.

"Emiya."

He said that and turned on his side in the bunk, as if going to sleep. He could almost physically feel the confusion she felt as he smirked with his eyes closed. He really hadn't meant to tease her, but it sort of came naturally at this point.

She clicked her tongue after a second, before copying him and laying down in her own bunk to get some shut eye. Even so, he didn't miss her quiet reply.

"Shepard."



;



The next week went by in a blur.

Not to say that it went by fast, only that it all seemed to blend together into a messy mush. In fact, time seemed to actually slow down to a crawl, as every day was filled with chores and exercises. They seemed fairly pointless at first glance, beyond the physical exercises.

But Emiya knew that the pointless chores were a critical part of creating a reliable and structured military force.

At first it started out as a method for their instructors to get a feel for the physical capabilities of the recruits. How many push ups and pull ups could you do? How far could you run in ten minutes? How far could you jump from a standstill? These were noted down and the best among them had been rewarded with a day off that could be appended to the beginning or ending of any official leave. This seemed to work well enough for motivating everyone to give their best and many of them even seemed to be pushing themselves to their limits. And then they were told that if they showed improvement over the coming weeks, they would be rewarded for their progress.

Many among them loudly proclaimed their regret for putting in so much effort in the first time, but all of them seemed to grow closer over the experience.

After that, they continued to slowly whittle down the excuses and reasons for why the recruits had to be constantly doing something. If it were merely about getting everyone into shape, then running and PE was all that should have been necessary. Slowly but surely they would have gotten into physical condition. But this about something entirely different, something much more important than mere physical ability. For an army to work, it is necessary for a chain of command to work seamlessly.

For an order up high to travel all the way down, turning words into actions in reality.

Thus, they were made to do meaningless chores. Running back and forth. Digging ditches and filling them in immediately afterwards. Carrying around things and cleaning facilities that had already been cleaned not more than mere hours ago. And of course, marching in formation. Everyone had to be in sync with everyone else, ensuring that they moved as one. Left foot, right foot, left foot. The timing the NCOs demanded was exacting and precise. Some complained about that, as the Navy had a volunteer corps for parades, but their instructors cared little and drilled it all the same.

And so, slowly but surely the amount of physical strain on each day rose while the amount of meaningless chores continued piling up. Gradually, even the most fit among them began to grow tired and weary, as despite the sufficient amount of nutrition and rest provided the long days still wore them down. But this wasn't a physical strain, but rather a mental one.

Which was entirely the purpose of the chores doled out by the instructors.

By tiring down and getting the recruits used to the daily slog, the officers and non-commissioned officers did two things. First, they got everyone used to following orders without question. Secondly and also—in what might seem a peculiar inversion—more importantly, it also instilled a sense of camaraderie in the recruits. There was a reason so little theory was being passed down at the moment. Why so little was really being taught to them. Beyond the occasional and seemingly sporadic speech by someone, they had zero need to think.

They had zero time and energy to think.

But Emiya knew exactly what they were doing.

When faced with an outside pressure, the group begins to form a strong bond within itself. The in-group preference. The sense of us that stood in opposition—or at the very least, stark contrast—to them. The other. It was the strongest motivational force that existed on the battlefield. Beyond creed, beyond honor, beyond even love, lay only that bond with one's fellows. Where someone would hesitate to ever fire a gun normally, if it were in the defense of their friend in a desperate situation.... Suddenly murder would become a matter of course.

To make soldiers, one needed acceptance of orders and the resolution to see them through.

"Give me another hundred squats! Come on!"

"Yesterday you failed to give me two hundred push ups. I guess it can't be helped, you're still soft after all. But I'm here to remedy that! That's why today we're going to all do at least four hundred push ups!"

The physical exercises grew gradually—though certainly not slowly—in intensity.

Many of them struggled to keep up, often due to various reasons, ranging from physical to motivational. But the most common was simply an unfamiliarity with the ability to push through pain until you got results. As a result, usually everyone was punished with more work. And with no other release—no means of escape or venting that frustration into other things—they could only improve. Some tried to feign illness and exhaustion, but sooner or later as the group needed everyone to keep up, even the slackers and weaklings among them had to catch up.

'If I can't do this, everyone will look down on me.'


'If I fail, everyone else will suffer more because of me.'

'As long as they can do it, I can't give up.'

Emiya could see those thoughts on many faces during those weeks as the pressure continued to steadily increase. For him it wasn't anything like that, though. Where he struggled physically, mentally it was nothing.

Easy, but boring.

All he had to do was manage his own physical strain and recovery to ensure he did not exceed his limits. Which meant plenty of food and rest.

At first people had looked at him strangely as he ate like a horse, but soon enough everyone else began to follow his lead as their enhanced metabolisms began to kick in to keep up with the demands of their new environment. They ate, and ate and ate. And as a result, they showed incredible results after every day. Well, most of them. Emiya had in practice no gene modification to help him out, so he lagged behind but he simply pushed through with willpower and hanged on barely so as not to overwork himself.

Better to let his body work itself up on its own, rather than risk injury and being set back. He also refrained from using magical energy or Reinforcement, for various reasons. He reasoned it might be noticed and draw unwanted attention, but he partly also felt that as long as he could keep up without it, he shouldn't fall back on his tricks. That old sentiment of never giving up, even when it served no use to push on, seemed to be rearing its head again. Then again, he wasn't the only one who struggled to keep up with the other's physical enhancements and recovery rates, so he could hardly complain.

Finally as they began to plateau physically after the third week, the amount of meaningless work began to lessen. And then the lessons began again with a vengeance.


A big part was simply making everyone accustomed to living as a part of a military organization. What to do, why, when and how to do it. Procedures and protocol for everything and anything was taught. Slowly, their pool of knowledge of how the Navy worked expanded and as it did, their instructors would pour more information in to keep them busy.

"Out there, among the civvies, you can do whatever! But not here! You are here to serve! Therefore, we have schedules! We have timetables! We have quotas and we have deadlines! Do you know why they call it that in the Navy? BECAUSE IF YOU FAIL TO MEET THE LINE, SOMEONE DIES!"

They learned ranks and protocol. Organizational charts and how to read and prepare different documents, mostly pertaining to themselves as individuals; how to request a change of gear; how to apply for vacation; how to file a complaint. What was expected of them in the day to day life and what to prepare for in the future.


"This is your Rules & Regulations book. Read it. Learn it. Live it. As long as you are a part of the Alliance Navy, your life exists within this manual! Every problem you may have will probably have a solution within its hallowed pages! So before you waste anyone's time with questions, Read The Fucking Manual! Any and all dumb questions will promptly and succinctly be answered as such in the future; RTFM! This is not only because it makes shit simpler for us up the food chain; the manuals exist for you! If anyone ever questions you, be it a fucking Corporal or a god-motherfucking-damn Fleet Admiral, if you have acted in accordance to the manual, that means you are one-hundred per cent FUCKING RIGHT! This is your sword, this is your shield! Read it! Learn it! Live it!"

This was probably the most interesting part to Emiya, as he had never had the chance to observe such things from the inside. Usually, he had always been on the outside looking in, searching for gaps and cracks to abuse. Red team-mentality and all that.

"There are no heroes here; we all work as a team. Either we all win or we all fail!"

And most importantly, they continued to raise the pressure on the group. Slowly molding them. Changing them from the outside. Managing their perceptions and beliefs with both overt and subtle methods.

"If you figure out how to do something, don't just stand around with your thumbs up your assholes feeling warm and good about yourselves! What are you waiting for? A pat on the back? A blow-job and some fucking champagne?! Go show your fellow recruits how to do it so that you can be finished more quickly as a whole!"

The results were obvious if you knew how to look for it. On the first day, there had been an uneasy friendship between everyone. But already those bonds were turning into something different, something far stronger. They were all in the same ship; recruits one and all, E1. The lowest of the low.

And they bonded over that. A month from now, he was certain everyone here would remember every face and name from this time for the rest of their lives. They would run around for hours, doing almost pointless chores and performing exercises, only to return to the barracks dead tired.

Someone would crack a joke, not even a particularly good one and everyone would fall apart and into laughing fits where tears ran freely for minutes at a time, leaving the whole room wheezing and completely reset. The bonds formed here were the bedrock of the humanity, since the dawn of time.

Of course, there were exceptions.

As their bodies were worn down every day, feelings would run hot.

Some would butt heads; some would argue. With the NCOs and with each other. One pair even got into a fist fight and ended up getting shouted at by the commanding officer in front of everyone. Just like on the first day, when he had given them a speech as they stood in a loose formation, now he dressed down those two in front of everyone.

It lasted for well over an hour. A public lynching, almost.

After that, those two hotheads grew into the best of friends. Running thick as thieves, they continued to make trouble for everyone else now. Emiya guessed the almost excessively-long dress down had served twin purposes; to erase any and all differences that existed within the ranks of the recruits by creating an external idol upon whom they could aim their anger and stress in the form of the practically untouchable officers, and to cow down anyone who thought about breaking the rules through public humiliation.

Humans are pack creatures. Getting them to comply wasn't really all that difficult if you knew the buttons.

Another exception was himself.

Certainly, his body had to struggle doubly hard to keep up under the ever-increasing workload. Certainly, he was in an alien location surrounded by unfamiliar faces beyond his fellow recruits. Certainly, he worked with them and learned to know and even trust them as they trained every day.

But he had been through so much more, that it barely even scratched the surface of his psyche. Unlike everyone around him, he would probably forget them all after a month's separation. Even now, their faces and names blended with vague figures from his past. Those with whom he had actually struggled and suffered with. Those who had died and disappeared in his wake. Faces of those whom he had had to leave behind in bloody battlefields and thankless turmoil. Of course, it wasn't a problem. He faked through the whole ordeal, maintaining a stoic and stolid appearance who fit in, even if he never quite bonded with anyone. Which was fine, since it was merely a means to an end—it was all accounted for.

But there was an exception he hadn't accounted for.

The redheaded girl, who slept in the bunk next to him; Shepard.

She didn't talk with anyone. She ate with no one. She relied on no one. Her face remained a scowling mask every day as she simply did as she was told and kept her thoughts to herself at all times. Certainly she got along with and handled everything as necessary, but...

Emiya sighed, glancing at the two approaching young men with one eye. This wasn't the first time someone thought to try their luck.

They walked up to Shepard, greeting her with enthusiasm. She looked up from whatever she was doing, squinting at them suspiciously.

"Hey, Shepard, right? I'm Franco." The one began as he grinned nervously at her.

"...That's right." She answered after a moment of silent staring. She had judged neither to be particularly hostile, but at the same time she didn't want anything to do with them.

"Nice hair. Red's pretty rare, heh. I thought you might have colored it, but you don't bring any hair-color with you to the showers, and the roots haven't faded either... So it's gotta be in your genes. That's cool; you don't see a lot of people with red hair anymore," the second continued, not at all disturbed by the awkward silence she had given them as he pressed on.

Shepard blinked, her eyes narrowing as she began to glare at them. "...Have you been watching me shower?"

"What—Uh... No?" The first tried, obviously panicking at the accusation.

"No, we just—"

"What do you want?" Shepard brusquely asked, glaring at them.

They stepped back at the vehemence in her voice, faltering at the intensity.

"We just— Your hair, I mean, it's a rare col—"

"So what? He's got red hair too. Go talk to him if you want to ask stupid questions," she said, nodding Emiya's way before turning her back to them.

The two exchanged looks, licking their lips in a hesitant manner at the dismissal. They realized others, who had their bunks closer to Shepard's than this pair had, were staring at them with amusement. Those closest to the redheaded woman already knew how cold she could be, having all more or less tried to talk to her themselves before.

The two hesitated, finally giving up. "Well, uh... See ya around, yeah?"

"Whatever," she said offhandedly, not even bothering to look at them as she dug in her chest for some of her exercise suits.

She probably wanted to go jogging again to get away from this situation.

Emiya simply listened, closing his eye and returning to his breathing exercises. Drama had never been something he had bothered to care about, though it was interesting to note how women's effect on unit cohesion and morale had changed since his days. Perhaps there was something in the food, or in the genetic therapy that made it so? Exhaling again, he dismissed those thoughts.

Though he didn't use his magic while performing his breathing exercises every day, he did use it to slightly enhance his recovery. Cycling trace amounts of magical energy through his body as he maintained optimal breathing technique helped him recover and it toughened him up at the same time. If he ever needed to use magic inside this body, going cold turkey would be a terrible idea.

Terrible, as in my arm just exploded from going from 0-to-a-100-terrible.

He would only make that mistake once. Though this body may have been made suitable for him, it was still a good idea to train it up to meet his standards. That, and he felt strange if he didn't do it at least once a day. It wasn't a physical itch or need of any kind, but simply an old urge to complete his daily rituals. He hadn't bothered with them once since he had become a Heroic Spirit inside the Moon Cell, but that seemed to have changed as he had been given a body again.

Perhaps it was the sensation of change that made it so. Of his body adapting and being molded by his every action.

How troublesome.



;



Shepard sat down, keeping the oblique glances to a minimum.

So far the Navy hadn't been bad. People had tried to feel her out and make good with her, but she had managed to keep them on the back foot. Like she always had. Playing them off against each other, letting the underlying tensions fly crosswise so she could step away unnoticed from situations. But it was still strange, seeing groups of people everywhere around here, laughing and grinning at each other.

It wasn't like that back on the old street, she thought frowning.

"Alright, today you will be taking your first looks at your lifelong partners. You all better pay attention, because this stuff won't be just for some test that decides your pay grade. Your life might depend on it one day."

The instructor spoke as she walked down the corridor. On either side of her, lined up on both walls sat recruits on the floor. Before each of them lay a deceptively simple looking device. But she knew what this was. She had seen one before.

A gun.

"This is the Hahne-Kedar industries mass accelerator, more commonly known as a Kessler pistol. It is the mainstay and workhorse of the Systems Alliance. Each of you will be expected to know how to operate, maintain and clean this firearm, regardless of whatever it is that you will end up doing in the future."

Shepard had never held a modern gun herself, but it felt quite similar to the one she had carried before. Back, before she had enlisted. The weight and feel were familiar enough, though this one was entirely alien in design and function.

It was bigger, too.

Put bullets in, pull back the slide, release the safety and pull the trigger. The dealer had told her that back when she had bought it. No more difficult than that. And it hadn't been. But this thing seemed like something out of this world. She smiled a little at that thought.

Like something beyond her old world; those dark places where no one and nothing was quite as pristine and pure as everything here. It reminded her of the night skies, back from the old street's roofs. When the light pollution was low enough that she could see the stars. Of when she could hear the distant roar of a starship, when at night it could be seen against the night sky as a dot of light leaving the grime and dirt of the streets around her behind it. She would wake up early in those days, before dawn whenever she could just to catch a glimpse of that other world, far from everything around her.

Somehow she thought she would like this gun very much.

Shepard glanced around, noting people's reactions and how they seemed to handle the guns placed before them.

"The ones before you lack an ammunition block and have not been charged, therefore they should be harmless. But that is a lie. Remember this, treat every firearm as if it is loaded and ready to fire, at all times," the instructor spoke, stopping before Shepard as she stared down at her.

She nodded, seriously considering those words. She had seen what that old piece could do to a human often enough. And in response to those memories a morbid curiosity welled up inside of her. What would this thing do to a person, if I shot them with it...?

Shaking away that thought, she looked around again and noticed Emiya, sitting some four places to the left opposite to her. He seemed utterly confused with the gun before him as he checked the bottom of the handle and the top of the barrel. She blinked, realizing something odd. He's checking the magazine well and the slide.

Looking back down at her own gun, she noted that the Kessler pistol lacked any of those features. They were relics; design artifacts in firearms from the days of chemical propellants and cased ammunition. It was a strange realization, that the short red-haired kid was apparently familiar with old guns more than new ones. Like she was.

Well, it was good that she wasn't the only one in entirely new waters. If nothing else, she could keep an eye on him to see if she'd missed something in the instructions.

The other recruits seemed to be somewhat familiar, even excited, at handling the Hahne-Kedar mass accelerators. No doubt they had seen in vids and games similar weapons their entire lives. She looked at Emiya again, trying to make sure no one noticed. She was pretty good at that; a talent she had developed back on the old street. You never wanted anyone to know you were looking at them. It made them aware, which was always bad.

The Asian boy had been younger and smaller than even she was when they had first arrived. But he ate twice as much as everyone else did and had only been eating more every day since. Almost every week it seemed like he had to go and change his gear due to one part or another of him having grown too large overnight.

Had he been in some gang as well, back when he had lived on the streets? It was obvious that he was another urchin, just as obvious as it was the she was from the slums as well. For a moment she entertained the idea that he had been sent after her, but dismissed it immediately with a scoff. Those guys wouldn't have known because she hadn't told anyone about leaving and the timing was off, anyhow. She had left at the last second, so that no one would have time to catch wind of her leaving.

She had turned 18 just a few days prior to walking in to the enlistment office, having long since decided that a decade of service to the Systems Alliance was better than staying on the old street. And it also meant getting to see that other world up close.

Shepard almost chuckled at the furrowed brows of the red-haired recruit, as he stared in what seemed like frustration at the pistol in his hands.

"—it functions by shaving off a piece from the ammunition block and then accelerating it with the internal magnetic field to hypersonic speeds, as the mass effect field lightens it further to allow maximum velocity of the round to be achieved. Now, you might think, 'how could something so small be dangerous' right? Well... Once you get to fire these things, you will come to realize just how fast things can go. As you can see, there are multiple—"

Shepard sharpened up as the instructor passed by her again, droning on about how the gun worked. She tried to listen, but somewhere around the time eezo started to be talked about she honestly lost track altogether.

It didn't matter. She knew what she was good at and what she wasn't worth shit at.

She could read people quickly and she could take anyone on in an unfair fight. If you had needed to run away or if you needed something or someone found, she had always been the authority on the old street. That's why they had let her buy a gun instead of trying to muscle her out. More useful to keep her as a neutral street enforcer than to get stuck fighting for every street corner. She was going to find a similar place here, sooner or later.

Which sure as hell wasn't going to be fixing guns, that was for sure.

She just needed to know how to use this thing and from there it was just as usual. Keep an eye on people, see how they reacted to her, note any changes and see if they were trying to fuck her up. And then completely and utterly fuck them up first.

"—therefore the biggest limitation to firepower in the modern age remains heat. If you continue to fire your gun without pause, it will overheat and enter into a forced cooldown until the internal systems have stabilized again. The internal computer will handle all of that, but the specific settings depend on the maker and model of mass accelerator. For the Kessler, you will have to learn how to run a basic diagnostics, which can be done by removing the side panel on the handle and—"

Shepard continued to listen, picking out details which she knew to be important even as she let the technical dribble go in through one ear and out through the other. She learned a whole lot even as she barely understood half, but by the end of the lesson she felt confident in carrying the thing around.

Still didn't mean she knew how to shoot the damn thing, but all in good time.

Looking around, most people seemed to be at that same level of comfort and understanding of the guns as well. Good.

"Therefore, outside of timeslots where firearms are specified as necessary equipment, the pistols shall always be stored in the locker. The de jure-serviceman on duty by the front desk will be expected to keep an bi-hourly log to make sure that each pistol is accounted for at all times." The instructor finished, stopping her almost three hours long pacing as she placed her hands on her hips.

Shepard stretched her neck, feeling a slight stiffness from sitting for so long. As she did, she noticed Emiya again and she froze.

He had the whole pistol in what seemed like a hundred pieces in front of him, all neatly and clearly organized into sections as he went through it all. The redhead nodded to himself, before grabbing a piece and then with expert coordination began to put back the puzzle pieces as if he had done it a thousand times before

Thirty seconds later, it was all in one piece again. Flawless and pristine. He smiled slightly; an entirely new expression on his face. The strange kid would smirk, would grin and would occasionally give a ghost of a half-smile, but she had never seen such a relaxed and satisfied expression on his face before. Honestly he gave her the creeps, since she just couldn't get a read on him.

She blinked and then he had noticed her; the expression disappearing as his face morphed back into a stoic mask of indifference. It had been a momentary lapse, something which only peeked through the cracks in a moment of indulgence. But she had definitely seen it.

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if asking if there was something she needed. Shepard looked away, frowning as she considered what she had seen.

He learns quickly, she noted. And for some reason, that mysterious smile stuck in her mind for several hours afterwards.



;



Emiya jumped down, absorbing the impact as best he could even as the mud splashed on his face.

"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up! No dawdling around!" The instructor standing next to the wooden wall shouted at him, though he had already been making a decent enough to. Twice a week, they were taken to an obstacle course and made to run it several times. The average of their results would be measured and listed, the worst performing among them would be then given extra cleaning duties as punishment, to keep everyone motivated.

He surged forward, taking great loping steps as his feet pushed through and pulled out of the shin-high mud. It hadn't even rained recently, yet as always this section of the pit was covered in mud. Emiya assumed it was simply there to slow people down and to make the fall from the top of the wooden wall he had just climbed over less dangerous.

As he arrived to the hanging rope, he climbed up the pole until he was about 3 meters in the air. His hands found the rope, leading over the water obstacle attached to another pole at the other end of the water. Almost like a powerline hanging by the roadside, or a clothesline, Emiya thought with some amusement as he swung his legs up to hook himself up. He quickly moved down the rope, making it all the way over to the other side and then jumped down.

The impact was quite heavy again, but he absorbed it best he could by spreading out his limbs and using his large muscles to dampen the fall. If he had any criticisms about the course, it would mostly be the amount of sheer drops they had to take. Falls like this were fine if you had space to roll forward and turn the downwards acceleration into forwards movement—or had the ability to simply reinforce the body to be able to take it—but here that never seemed an option.

Then again, given that he was the only one who seemed to have noticed that, perhaps it was simply an archaic worry of a human being who did not enjoy the full benefits of gene therapy. No matter, the drops still made his ankles ache. He would have to get some cold packs and make sure to check it more thoroughly later.

He sighed as he got back into a run. Already, he was wondering if this really had been his best option. While nominally physically challenging, it was really the boredom of it all that was getting to him. He was running the calculations in his head again, noting that the shortest distance between Earth and the Charon Relay was far, far greater than even the longest distance between Earth and Mars. Even with the elliptical orbits, that hardly changed.

Given how many FTL-capable vessels existed on Earth, wouldn't it have been simpler to steal one after all?

No, the vessel would no doubt be discovered as he had landed and gone to the Mars' ruins, making the use of the vessel impossible for a return trip. Of course, given Archimedes he wouldn't have been too surprised if the plan was to have him simply go to Mars and then waste away without magical energy to maintain his spiritual core.

As Emiya climbed up a rope ladder, he stared down at the ground beneath him with some trepidation. This was even higher than the previous drop. I am definitely going to need an ice-pack later. I'll have to visit the infirmary again.


;


Emiya exhaled, letting the breath come out naturally as he simply relaxed his body. The long, rhythmic breathing pattern began anew as he pushed it just a fraction of a second further. His heart stilled for a moment again and his mind seemed to settle down into an absolute blankness.

Like a lake with a mirror-smooth surface, unbroken and undisturbed by anything—his self become void of ripples as he continued to cycle through the simple actions.

He had started out with a five second base; now he was already up to above half a minute. He inhaled slowly and as smoothly as humanly possible, drew out the action for over thirty nine seconds as he reached for his limits, but at forty two he had to cease as his lungs could not fill any more. He held his breath; not tensing a single muscle or holding his airways shut by force, but simply existing in a perfectly relaxed state.

Already, his heart was beating at less than 25 beats per minute.

Twenty seconds passed in stillness; the oxygen level in his bloodstream still high enough that he could easily last a minute like this. His consciousness felt detached. A sign of hypoxia he noted distantly, filing it away as unimportant. The body would pass out and resume regular breathing before he actually managed to really injure himself here. He knew he was pushing his limits, but given that he was forced to keep up with a group of highly motivated nigh-superhumans in their prime...

He needed all the edges he could get. If he could push it up to 45 or even 50 seconds, his anaerobic capacity would be quite close to the others. It would let him keep up, at least in that part of the ever-increasing physical regimen. Already the regimen was nearing Emiya's limits.

Of course, using magical energy always remained an option, but somehow it felt like he would be giving up if he fell back to using it. It was strange, how in this serene state he could reflect upon his character more easily. As if he became detached from himself, allowing him to more objectively judge his actions.

That or it was the hypoxia giving him funny thoughts.

It wasn't a matter of just being caught; just because he used Reinforcement did not mean that he would increase his performance proportionally and continue to excel. He could simply relieve the stresses on himself by keeping up with everyone else, allowing himself to strain himself less physically while staying below the radar.

No, this was a matter of willpower. Of challenging himself. He thought himself more mature than that; that he had grown out of his need to prove to himself. That he could do something or keep going until it became absolutely clear, that it was in fact impossible. Even then, he had often in the past kept going with sheer bullheaded stubbornness, as if denying the impossible with desperation.

Yet here he was again, refusing the easy way.

He began to exhale, drawing it out and letting his lungs deflate under their own weight and the compression of his relaxed torso. He drew it to match the inhale; when it came to controlling your own body through breathing, rhythm was the most important thing. He had originally studied ancient martial methods in hopes of learning something useful back when he had been alive. He had used what he had learned to modify his own breathing technique, the one he had used ever since he had first joined the kyudo club. Then he had begun to study more and more scientific methods and studies into the matter; how biofeedback functioned and how it was utilized in the modern world.

To control the parts and systems of your body that lacked a direct neural connection, it is only practically feasible through manipulating them with those systems which were controllable. Breathing and muscle tension stood at the forefront as he had found out, being the most easily learned and controlled methods.

One of the simplest was the Hook breathing method; the Anti-G Straining Maneuver. Used by fighter pilots and others who regularly performed in situations with incredibly high forces playing havoc on their bodies. Were a regular human being placed into those circumstances, they would begin to feel nauseous and weak after a mere couple G's worth of stress, whereas these people had to regularly and for prolonged periods of time perform challenging duties under that stress.

The main problem one would face is that as one makes a tight turn and the G's pile up, your body would want to keep going in that direction, including the blood inside your veins. This usually means that it wants to collect in your legs and arms, instead of in your head where it is most vitally needed. Thus, for untrained people a flight in a high-power plane would end in unconsciousness or even death as they lost conscious.

To counter this, the AGSM has two main parts; tightening your muscles in your legs and torso to give the blood less space, forcing it back up, and breathing in a specific rhythm by repeating the word "Hook" as you did.

For Emiya, there had been some use to such techniques, but mainly he had been interested in the studies and methods used to investigate into such techniques. Thus he had acquired instruments which allowed him to sample the oxygen level in his bloodstream or in his cells, like with a hyperspectral imager to figure out how to maximize the amount of oxygen he could retain with his breathing.

Later on, it became useful as a skill when his opponents began to field the same technology on the battlefield to detect hostiles. Being able to control your body to pass through a crowd, entirely unseen despite the equipment internationally praised as unbeatable had gotten him through more than once tricky situation.

While he could not move so quickly as to need to worry about passing out from all of his blood leaving his brain, like in a fighter jet, it was a concern for him that he could run out of breath and pass out after a minute of intense exercise when fighting at his utmost limits. Now and back then.

He had started out just sitting and meditating, recording how different things affected the level of oxygen in his blood and muscles, and then he moved up to training his breathing as he fought. He had learned other tricks as well; how to heat up or cool down his body, how to force more blood into his brain to wake himself up more quickly and how to train his anaerobic capacity without actually needing to physically strain himself, like he was doing right now.

His muscles needed to recuperate longer than his peers' did, given their more advanced effects from the gene therapy. He couldn't afford to go running simply to enhance his cardiovascular capability when he needed to recover in time for the next training session.

In essence, he could receive the benefits that someone who lived in high altitudes would if they were to come down where the oxygen levels were higher, simply through breathing exercises. It had even been used by some to prepare for mountain climbing, allowing them to cut back on the time needed to adjust for altitude.

He finished his exhale; emptying his body wholly.

Emiya became a void.

Whereas when he was filled to the brim and became a serene lake when he held his breath upon the inhale, in this moment he was completely and utterly devoid of anything and everything. He held no thoughts, no beliefs and no consciousness in this moment. Though his blood still held oxygen and his muscles were not under any strain, it has been nearly two minutes since he had last inhaled.

He continued to restrain from breathing in; forcing himself to maintain his complete absence of self and breath for as long as he could. In this state, complex thought became impossible. Even counting the passing of time became muddled and difficult.

But it also proportionally increased his capacity for acting anaerobically, thus he did not give up. Not quite yet. A little bit more. Just a few seconds—

Something jostled him and his eyes shot open, his mouth opening as he inhaled what felt like an entire roomful of air in a single second. His limbs tingled, his stomach half-cramping as his body greedily took in the air. He looked up, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the redhead who looked back at him.

She had tripped somehow and taken support from his bed frame, making her arm accidentally touch up against him, nothing more.

"Shit. Sorry." Shepard grimaced, looking sheepish as she backed away from him.

Emiya blinked, exhaling as he normalized his breathing. His thoughts came rushing back as his oxygen levels normalized as well and his body began to slip back into what felt like reality. The veil of self-induced distance from all vanished. He glanced at the clock, noting that he had been meditating for over an hour already.

He grunted at her, leaning slightly to look at her. She had apparently tripped and almost fallen on top of him, something quite unlike the stoic and unsociable girl. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, fine." She glanced at him, waving his question and walking away. But he couldn't help but notice the slight limp she had. Had her foot fallen asleep when she had been lying in her cot? ...Or was it something else.

He shook his head; it had nothing to do with him. Yet even as he thought that, a memory of the past welled up. There had been someone like that in Cambodia. Or perhaps Johannesburg. At this point many of his memories had begun to blur together.

Someone who had clawed their way out of a slum, always hiding their weaknesses and treating everyone as a potential hostile. The name had long since been forgotten, but the way he had died after getting an injury and refusing to ask for help had stuck with Emiya.

That night, he couldn't shake away the memories of the past.

Things he had thought he had long since cast away resurfaced unbidden to cling to him again. Those whom he had left behind; those who had parted ways with him, unable to keep up with his mad zeal or unable to understand his reasons; those who he had failed due to never managing to communicate properly.

Slowly but surely, the rusted cogs that had spun in his internal world for decades began to cease their turning.
 
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Chapter 4: Growing Pains

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
Emiya raised his gun, keeping the finger off the trigger and flicking the safety off as he walked around. A recruit walked in front of him, almost cutting his theoretical line of fire with his own pistol raised.

Flick safety, lower pistol, keep walking.

The man walked past Emiya and he raised his pistol again, flicking off the safety. It was pretty monotonous and boring, but Emiya couldn't deny the purpose and effectiveness of this drill. Still, being forced to duck walk around in an enclosed circle with sixty other recruits while training weapon's safety for over an hour was beginning to seem a little overkill.

'Every time someone fails to lower their gun and toggle the safety when your buddy walks past you, they just died! That means you still haven't learned and we add another five minutes to the drill!'

Was what she had said and she had definitely stuck to her word. At first the majority had scoffed at that, but as their sadistic female instructor continued to penalize them without fail and as the duration of the exercise kept extending, they began to finally catch on.

Fuck ups weren't tolerated.

At this point, anyone who fucked up would be remembered by the rest. Team spirit at its finest; 'you get with the program or we beat your ass until you stop making them punish us for your mistakes'.

Anyone who didn't know what they were doing and walked by, seeing them all walking around with their guns would have probably scratched their heads in complete confusion. Well, civilians anyhow. Everyone on base had done the same and knew the drill. It had been hammered into the spines of every Navy soldier the Systems Alliance had churned out.

'Imagine that down your line of fire, where your bullets would go, there is a burning hot red laser. It stops for nothing and goes on until it hits something. That thing is dead. That's how your gun works; at more than a kilometer a second, that chip of metal doesn't stop until it hits something. Which means that if you don't pay attention where you're pointing that thing, someone will die!'

Emiya noticed another recruit—holding his pistol up and duck walking around just like he was—in his peripheral vision. There was nowhere for the other to go, but through Emiya's firing line. Through the imaginary laser that ran down his sight into the barracks in the distance.

Toggle safety, lower pistol, keep finger off trigger.

He passed by in front of Emiya, visibly relieved that he had been noticed and that Emiya had not screwed up. Not relieved over the imaginary laser so much as relieved that he hadn't added to the exercises duration with a fuck up.

Toggle safety off, raise pistol, keep finger off trigger.

After ten minutes of walking like this, everyone's thighs had begun to tremble. That apparently meant that they would have to train more often in the future, according to the chief. The term duck walk wasn't the official name, but that had gone past Emiya's notice when he hadn't been paying attention. They used an acronym for it anyway, which made knowing actual proper name sort of redundant.

Come to think of it, the Alliance Navy seemed to have acronyms for everything to the point where listening in to a conversation between older soldiers tended to sound like an entirely different language.

'Yeah, we were doing a SSD with the CMSO down at the DGRE, but then the SSDO came running, shouting about a FFM which of course got the lt all sparking, so we all had to sign a DDCT in case of a ICIFF.'

He was pretty sure they did it just to confuse the civilians and the recruits, anyhow.

Emiya had learned something similar to what they were doing right now, back when he had been first learning about guns in his first life. Though this was somewhat different, but the principle remained the same. For handguns, the Isosceles Stance seemed the closest equivalent to what they were doing.

The basics were simple enough; torso straight forward into the direction they were walking towards,

'Your armor is thickest in the front; the ribs aren't guaranteed to stop a bullet. Face them head on!'

—with their knees bent so that when they walked their head did not bob up and down at all,

'You bounce around when you're a civvy. With a gun, that is not fucking acceptable. You point your gun only at what you want dead. Nothing else! Your head rises up above where your ear would normally be or if you start bouncing around, it's another five minutes for you monkeys! Now keep walking, you don't get to slow down and rest when someone's shooting back at you, so you sure as hell don't get to rest here either!'

—and with their torso leaning a slight bit forward, so that the straight arm pushed against the pistol. He could have put the muzzle against a wall and leaned against it, with how solid his form was.

'When you pull that trigger, you gotta lean into it. If you're standing with your back straight and up right, your muzzle will climb like your dicks do whenever you sorry sacks see my perfect ass walking by! And just like you, that makes your gun worthless! You can waste your own shots all you like, but here in the military we're actually shooting something worth a fuck! Lean into the shot to absorb the recoil from your fire, so your sights will stay on target!'

All in all it sounded quite simple.

But that was why they drilled it so hard. It couldn't simply sound like it, it had to be simple. It had to be so instinctual that they never ever forgot it. Which was why the instructor had drawn a large circle into the sand. Large enough for all of them to stand in with a little bit of space to move around.

If they failed to keep proper posture: five more minutes. If they accidentally "shot" someone, failing to lower their gun as a friendly walked in front of them: five more minutes. If they stopped moving: five more minutes.

"Thirty more seconds, you sorry sacks of shit! Amateurs train till they get it right! Professionals train until they can't get it wrong!" The instructor shouted, still grinning widely as she stared at the group of duck walking morose soldiers.

It was hardly a bad exercise. Simply a bit monotonous, Emiya thought as he continued to walk around. He had always preferred long rifles or single-shot pistols to rapid fire mid-range guns like the submachine guns which needed this kind of recoil control, but this was hardly a new thing.

Still, it would be good to be done with this and get a shower—

"Serviceman Li, you fuck up! I told you about keeping your knees bent already! No bobbing! Five more minutes!"

The collective groan gave voice to Emiya's own thoughts.


;



He walked out of the showers, toweling his hair dry as he stretched his neck. A cold shower had felt great, though he was certain that soon they would begin introducing water-saving measures in preparation to life aboard a spaceship.

Better to enjoy the little pleasures while he still could.

Emiya put on the regulated regulation shorts and slippers, folding his still wet towel around his arm as he walked out of the communal showers. The distance between his bunk and the showers wasn't that far, but the Navy still had a fairly strict dress code for walking in the corridors. When going for a shower you had to wear acceptable gear, just like with your uniform.

It might seem pedantic and ridiculous, but it instilled a sense of order, he supposed. Just like how you made your bed neatly and tidily after waking up, you always put your appearance in order. If nothing else, it served as a second line of defense against intrusion, in that anyone not wearing very specific uniform or apparel would stand out immediately.

Perhaps he was simply overthinking the matter, Emiya noted as he put his towel to dry. The micro-fiber would be dry in five minutes, which was handy. He stripped off his shorts and reached for a uniform one-piece suit.

Putting in his legs one at a time and pulling it up, Emiya frowned. He had grown again, which meant that he would have to go and requisition another one in a larger size. Though he felt some comfort in growing to a more dignified height, closer to his usual, it was still an annoyance that it came so rapidly when he had to wear these strange military clothes.

A jeans and long-sleeved shirt combination wouldn't need to be replaced every few weeks, he groused.

His original growth had continued well into his twenties, an apparent side-effect of heavy use of od for magecraft and not all too unusual among practitioners. But here it seemed that his body was trying to catch up within a year to his original height, which along with his increasing weight from all the exercise left him perpetually hungry.

He would have to go and get another set of suits before one of the NCOs complained. They were pedantic like that.

It could wait. Besides, the requisitions office had already closed for the day. Emiya sighed, pulling the suit on forcefully. Worst case was that the sizes they had would not fit him anyhow, forcing him to wait until the next size up was fine. Such was life in the service he thought again with a sigh, not for the first time.

Since everything was made on the large scale, a lot of the time small things didn't quite fit right. When you made half a million uniforms, you had to choose between having all sizes possible and wasting half of your stock, or limiting the variation and having most of your stock in use.

He sat down on his bunk, pulling up the omnitool he had been handed a week back and began to navigate through the menus. It was a basic model, apparently only handed to those who had not already bought one before arriving.

An orange holographic sleeve appeared on his left arm; the haptic interface that allowed him to interact with the supposedly massless construct of light, giving him a way to use the supercomputer on his wrist.

It allowed him to do anything and everything, really. From scanning and manufacturing items, to watching and listening to vids and music to various forms of communication and information sharing.

Usually, in his time, private cell phones and the like had been banned while on duty in various services, due to various reasons ranging from operational security to matters of discipline. He knew more than one operation that had nearly failed due to other parties having access to the cell phone metadata or even the conversations themselves of the opposition.

But, with technology marching on, this rule too had been overturned. Omnitools were simply too useful to ban and instead they had been mandated to be updated with Systems Alliance firmware and added to their network.

This way, the "dumb grunts" who wanted to watch vids or listen to music in their downtime got their way, while the highers up could acquire much more accurate and reliable data on their personnel. Emiya was fairly certain that the omnitool was recording and monitoring his heart-rate and blood pressure at every moment, which had ground any and all use of magic to a halt after he received it.

He still meditated, but mostly just kept it up for maintaining what he had already achieved which kept his heart-rate and blood pressure in more normal territory.

Still, while it was an annoyance and a millstone hanging around his neck, it did have its uses. He pulled up the extranet and began to read quietly. Reading with the projected screen over his forearm was a bother, but with some tinkering he had found the settings to freely adjust the location of the screen, which soon allowed him to read freely.

For one, most every book ever published in any shape or form was recorded and could freely be read. Old books he had heard about before but never had the chance to read, classics which he half-remembered, new masterpieces written decades after his death...

The breadth and choice of literature available to him was incredible.

And that was just the extranet; he had also been copies of the user manuals to all of his gear, which he spent more than an eyefull on.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" Someone asked and Emiya looked up. It was one of the recruits, but the name eluded Emiya at the moment. "Wanna come and play some basketball? We've got the court in fifteen."

Emiya considered for a moment before shaking his head.

"No, I'm in the middle of some reading here. But thank you for asking." Didn't hurt to be polite, Emiya figured.

"Oh? What about? I'm Chad, by the way." He asked and then introduced himself with a smile, not at all faltering at the rejection.

Emiya blinked, having almost returned to his reading. He almost frowned, but refrained. "Emiya. General information about different places in the galaxy. About the cities, populations and climate."

"Huh? Why?" He seemed genuinely curious, which was the only reason Emiya didn't ignore him already. Besides, he wanted something.

"...I've never been off Earth. Seemed like something interesting." That was technically true, as he had lived and died on Earth, and this body had never left either. And it could help him somewhere down the line.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense. Oh man, I remember watching extranet vids about the Citadel when I was a kid all day after school. That place is awesome, even better in person."

Emiya nodded.

He hadn't actually read about anything outside of the solar system. It hadn't seemed proper. Or rather, he wasn't sure if he should read more. There was a niggling feeling of hesitation, when his finger sometimes hovered over the tab for more information on relays and other systems and races.

There was a curiosity, a hunger for knowledge of what the future had brought. But he was here only to deliver a codecast to the Mars' ruins. Nothing more, nothing less. He had long since died; there was no place for him among the living, be it on Earth or out in the stars.

Thus he refrained.

"Lemme see, man..." Chad walked up to Emiya and tilted his head to read the text. Emiya didn't bother trying to hide his screen, since it wasn't like there was anything particularly incriminating or unreasonable there.

Besides, he was growing curious about what this 'Chad' wanted. There seemed to be some agenda behind all this seeming casual talk.

"Mars...? Why'd you want to read about that hickville? There's literally nothing there." Chad asked, frowning at Emiya as he took a step back.

Emiya shrugged at that, "Never been to Mars, but I've seen it in the night sky before. Seemed interesting."

"...Well...Uh, I guess..." He said, crossing his arms, as if not entirely sure about Emiya's reasoning. Chad turned to look at Shepard, who was quietly paying attention to their conversation by the side. "What about you, Sheppie?"

Shepard blinked at having been drawn into the conversation, before realizing she had been asked a question.

"I've never been off Earth, either. Mars does seem pretty interesting. I once saw it through a telescope, before. Wouldn't mind going there once, at least." She said with a shrug.

Chad blinked.

"Uh no, I meant like, you wanna come and play some hoop with us?"

Emiya almost chuckled. So that was it. I was just a prop to get her attention, then. Shepard frowned, realizing that had been the start of the discussion, after all.

"How about it, Sheppie?"

"...What did you just call me?" She looked at him, not quite glaring but still seeming more than a little annoyed.

"Uh..." He hesitated.

You blew it. You should have kept going; make her laugh and get her off-guard and off-balance, after that she would have actually considered it. Now she's just annoyed at her interest in Mars being dismissed. Emiya smirked a little, amused at being sidelined as he went back to his reading.

"Well, uh, we'll be by the court, if either of you wants to come, yeah?" Chad said, with slightly put out expression as he turned and walked away.

Emiya continued his reading, steadfastly ignoring the stare he felt from his side. After a minute, she stopped. He felt somewhat dissatisfied that she had not attempted to continue a conversation, he realized.

Simply because now he was left with only his reading and the taunting hyperlink titled 'Learn more about The Citadel', again.


;


Emiya blinked, pressing the button that should have brought out the glowing haptic interface.

Nothing happened. His brows furrowed and he looked at the physical omnitool, strapped to his wrist with intent. It hadn't taken any physical hits and it seemed to still work fine, as the small power and connection lights were on.

He physically rebooted it and the lights blinked, but the haptic interface remained missing. He tried removing the power source and replacing it as he rebooted it again. Nothing. Everything seemed to be working, at least hardware-wise.

Which meant software. This wasn't due to anything he had done.

He looked up, having felt someone's gaze at him for a while now. He would have dismissed it as meaningless, but those two had been surreptitiously staring at him for well over an hour now. Ever since their off-duty hours began.

The last time I used the omnitool was... Three hours ago.

It was merely a correlation, but given that those two had been glaring at him occasionally ever since they had tried to talk to Shepard, it did seem relevant. In fact, he had seen them tinkering and whispering over their omnitools for days now, often glancing his way with a satisfied smirk or predatory joy.

Those two must have sabotaged my omnitool somehow. Emiya sighed. He had simply thought to read some more of the codex and the technical manuals they had been provided with in lieu of exercise or other things to do.

He hardly could practice his magecraft or tinker with some broken things, after all.

Well now, how to handle this...

He could confront them, but that was unlikely to bring about any results and would probably merely increase their future misapprehensions towards him unless he made it clear that he would not tolerate it. Which would require escalation; a show of force and aggression. Not something he particularly felt like doing. For one, it would make him unduly stand out. For another, it wasn't even really an annoyance since the omnitool was simply another tool he had been handed by the Navy. He had no attachment to it, nor any real need for the things it could let him read or watch.

Emiya knew there were some definite extranet junkies and gaming addicts among the recruits, Franco and his unnamed buddy among them. Then again, assuming they hadn't been doing nothing with their omnitools, perhaps they had been planning and plotting to mess with him all this time.

How ridiculous.

Eh, might as well escalate it all the way, then.He thought with a shrug as he took off the omnitool and removed the power source as he got up. Better ham it up a bit to rile them up.

"Anybody else have a problem with their omnitool?" Emiya asked, speaking loudly.

Several dozen heads turned his way, looking at him quizzically, but they all shook their heads and murmured denials as they tried quickly. Emiya began to walk for the door, nearing the two bunks where the two most likely suspects slept and at this moment were sitting as they quietly observed Emiya.

They seemed to be enjoying this, too. Time to turn up the heat.

"Well, it's probably some virus I got from online. But I turned it off and I'm gonna go hand it in to the chiefs for inspection. They can probably trace it back and get it working again." He said, almost casually just as he walked past the two, stressing the mention of their superior officers in just the right way for it to sound promising.

From his peripheral vision he could see the two freeze up at that. Escalating accidentally to the point where he incriminated them for hacking—or sabotaging or whatever it was that they had done—of Navy property was far beyond any reaction they could have expected.

And with the omnitool turned off, they wouldn't be able to un-do their dirty work. Sure, it was unlikely that it would actually result in anything substantial, but it wasn't the facts of the matter that were important. It was the threat of escalating to strategic nukes when it came to drama, by taking it to the officers, that was important.

"H-hey! Uh, are you sure that's a good idea?" One jumped up before Emiya could walk out.

He didn't turn around but slowed down a bit.

"I mean, it could be nothing. Right?" The one who had introduced himself as Franco joined in, glancing hesitantly at the other.

"Right." The first agreed. "Uh, I, uh, I could take a look at it for you, see if it's really bad. I'm pretty good with tech, you know." Franco offered, licking his lips as he glanced at his partner-in-crime.

Emiya turned around, smiling with faux-relief, though neither could tell.

"Really? That'd be a huge relief." He smiled, staring right into Franco's eyes. "Not having my omnitool not working, I mean."

I know it was you, you little shit. Emiya thought, putting all his focus into that look. He didn't change his body language at all, didn't bother with killing intent or to even put any hostility to his thoughts, or anything else so overt. He simply focused on Franco, as if he were a hawk staring down a mouse.

The last time the three of them had been within speaking distance of each other, Emiya had still been rail thin and quite short for his supposed age. But now? Perhaps it had been the gene therapy. Perhaps it had been the copious amounts of exercise and food he partook in to keep up with everyone else. Perhaps it was simply his soul modifying the body to match his true appearance quicker. Whatever it was, he had changed since that time they had last been near each other.

At a distance, it would not have been obvious unless you were paying attention. But up close?

Franco seemed to realize that Emiya had grown nearly half a head taller and that each of his four limbs had nearly doubled in circumference as he had been putting on muscle at an astonishing rate. Franco swallowed, his mind blanking as the whites of his eyes began to show.

Somehow that scrawny little thing had turned into something absolutely terrifying in an instant. Emiya clapped him on the shoulder, breaking the trance as he smiled.

"Thanks, I appreciate the help."

The spell had been broken, both of them looking as if they had just awoken from a dream, or what they had thought had been reality but had suddenly revealed itself to be a dream. They blinked, confused as their thoughts and fears from the previous moment seemed entirely unfounded.

Yet, that feeling would linger in the back of their minds.

"Y-yeah. No problem."

Emiya didn't have any problems with his omnitool since.



;



Emiya let out a breath as he hit the bed.

His eyes felt heavy, which was somewhat surprising. He hadn't really felt sleepy since he had come to inhabit this body. Physical exhaustion was one thing and matching up with the rhythm of the world around him was another.

But feeling an actual physical need to sleep? That was a first in a long while. Then again, four hours of running in full gear through the rain did that to you. Just about everyone else seemed completely done for the day as well.

Still, he felt some satisfaction as his body was growing at a stupendous rate to match the environment. It even exceeded the projected rate of the gene therapy, though that had more with simply his soul being what it was.

He did his best to hold back the most of the flow between the soul and the corpus, to remain unnoticed by the instructors, but even so his advances were being noticed. Already, he was having a lot less trouble with keeping up, vindicating his decision to not use magecraft during his time in the Navy.

"...Shit."

Emiya opened his eyes at the soft cursing voice.

He was the only one who heard the whisper, he was sure. Turning his head, he stared at Shepard with one eye closed to remain unnoticed. She was sitting at her bunk, one leg crossed up on her knee as she was holding her foot. The redhead was frowning as she wiggled her toes, apparently testing out the range of motion of her foot.

He considered it for a moment, before closing his eyes. It has nothing to do with me.

"Fuck..." She cursed again.

Emiya opened his eyes, sitting up with a sigh. He didn't bother looking at Shepard, simply getting down and getting his clothes in order. Outside of the sleeping hall, a relatively strict dresscode was enforced after all.

He left without a word, walking quietly down the empty halls.

Given the size of this place, it would usually be full of recruits and the personnel needed to train those recruits. But it was off season, so the personnel was downsized proportionately. Perhaps they worked part-time or they were assigned elsewhere for the time being.

Regardless, the result was what it was. The empty and dark corridors stretched on everywhere around him. Every seven steps one of the ceiling lights would recognize movement and toggle on the sterile lights that were almost blue in hue, lighting another seven steps for him to walk. His footsteps echoed lightly, until he found what he needed.

He knocked on the door. No one answered.

That was fine; he knew no one was inside. He couldn't hear anyone's breathing or heartbeat inside after all. But still, there were cameras and he had to at least act somewhat the part. Technically he wasn't supposed to enter here, as listed in the 'fucking manual', but he was sure that he could handle whatever came if someone decided to chew him out on it.

The infirmary was empty and dark; the lights being manually switched unlike in the halls. He opened the small refrigerator beneath the empty table and reached inside. Having found what he was looking for he grabbed a meter of toilet paper from the bathroom as well before leaving.

Walking back briskly, he wrapped the ice-pack in the toilet paper with care.

He made it back, kicking his boots off without slowing down his stride past his bunk as he came to a halt before Shepard. She was lying down with her arms up, fingers crossed behind her head as she lay with her eyes closed.

But she must have noticed him looming over her as she opened an eye.

She blinked up at him, before her eyes narrowed.

"What?"

Emiya considered his words, before throwing them to the wind. He wasn't particularly interested in making friends with her, but he did... What did he want?

Why had he walked all the way over to the clinic for the ice-pack? Because he wanted to help her? A stubborn voice inside of him denied that vehemently, as if shouting to shoot down the very idea. He was done with cleaning up other people's messes. He was done helping people at his own expense.

He had sold his soul for other's already. Enough was enough. Therefore... Therefore what? Why was he here now, holding an ice-pack in his hand as he stared down at Shepard? Was he here to help her? But what for?

Emiya shook his head; there was no sacrifice on his part here. He could help her as much as he wanted, as long as he simply acknowledged that he was doing it simply because he did want to help her.

She furrowed her brows, glaring at him.

"What is it?" She snapped again as he said nothing, growing more and more annoyed.

He looked up, meeting her eyes. This was for himself. Surely. That was why he could justify it to himself. This wasn't about her. It was about smoothing things out for himself. Right, that made sense. He nodded to himself, satisfied with the rationalization.

"You wrenched your foot." It wasn't a question. She flinched, almost denying it reflexively. He could see it in her eyes; the set of her shoulders. Weakness was bad. Letting others know you had a weakness was worse still. He could see it, the thoughts and plans whirring in her eyes. How to deny it; how to draw attention away from it; how to turn this on him.

"You—" She began, her course of action set. She would make this be about him; I'm trying to talk her up, like the others, she would say.

He didn't let her.

"Shut up." He said and somehow a little anger seeped through. Not at her, no. It was directed... At this situation? No, himself. At himself. For being this easily affected. Nothing about this place had gotten to him, except this one person who reminded him of someone from a long time ago. So he wasn't angry at her.

But he could use it against her. She flinched at the tone of his voice. Everyone had gone dead quiet at his words.

There was weight to it. She wasn't the only one who had been affected; another recruit sleeping opposite to Shepard had gotten up to tell Emiya off, but had been shot down just as effectively as she had been by those two words.

"Where do you think we are?" He asked, finally looking at her. She blinked, taken aback at the accusation in his voice.

"What do you—"

"You're not on the streets anymore. You're in the Navy now. You're a soldier. You didn't listen to a word they said, did you? You're in a team, now. You're not just responsible for yourself. You get injured and you end up affecting everyone else." He spoke, voice low. Yet the dead silence around them let most of everyone present hear him clearly. They leaned in, trying to catch every word he said.

Direct confrontation. Questioning her. That would rile her up; a dumb way of doing things, but he was here already so he might as well play this act through.

She glared at him then. "What makes you think you know anything about me?"

She ground her teeth, eyes boring into him with as she moved to sit up. Her legs swung over the edge of the bed as she moved to stand up. But he moved his own foot just a little bit to the left, causing her to step on his foot.

"Listen to me, you—Fuck! Oww!" She grunted as she rose up, placing her weight on the leg which was over his own. His toes dug right into the arch of her foot as she stepped down on them, where he knew it hurt the most.

"See?" He asked tilting his head slightly as he pushed her shoulder lightly. He didn't need any force to tip her back onto the bed she had just gotten up from.

"Oomph!" She made a strange sound as she hit the bed.

"If you weren't so busy glaring at everybody and looking out for someone trying to shiv you for your shoes, maybe you might have thought to ask for help. But no, you're too stubborn for your own damn good."

He sat down, grabbing her foot with one hand as he set away the ice-pack. She tried to wrest free her foot from his hand, but his grip was like iron vise. He pressed with a thumb, inhaling slowly. He let his magical energy extend outwards, into his hands as he controlled his breathing.

Raising his body temperature with simple breathing was possible, but for rapid increase in temperature simply using his magic circuits was faster. His hands grew slightly red and he extended his magical energy through the touch into her foot, peering into the bones and muscles of the foot.

Another skill he had picked up along the way, during a life wasted.

As he figured. She had wrenched the arch of her foot during running, yet kept going like nothing had been wrong. It was a stress injury really, piled up from training too hard until it gave way. He sighed, pressing a thumb in and beginning to feel out the extent of the injury.

"Or what, do you think everyone here is looking out for their next fix? That they're gonna gang up on you in the showers to get their rocks off?" Emiya said, glaring at Shepard who was trying to glare at him in equal measure in return. But every time he pressed a thumb into her foot, she tensed and was forced to hold back a cry of pain. "Seriously? How do you think you were going to heal from this? It's been like this for weeks already, you idiot. You've just made it worse by trying to walk it off."

"You—" noticed?

She stared at him, eyes wide as he mouth hung wide open. He merely rolled his eyes at her.

"Yet you kept going, not even once slowing down and only making it worse." He glared at her, pressing in particularly hard, almost making her whimper as she closed her eyes, with her back arching with the pain.

Somehow, he wasn't sure who he was talking about anymore. No, he was definitely talking about her. But none of the anger was really meant for her. She really did remind him of someone. A man he did not want to think about.

He continued to slowly massage the inflammated muscles, easing at them and using his magical energy to analyze how he was doing. He could not heal her, nor would he have wasted his magical energy on something like that anyhow, but Structural Analysis was another story entirely.

It lasted only for five minutes, but he kept increasing the pressure as he worked deeper and deeper. Every time Shepard seemed to be getting a handle of the pain, he doubled the pressure and kept her from moving.

Finally, he let go and turned to grab the ice-pack. He opened the topmost layers of the wrapped paper and used it to fasten the ice-pack loosely to her foot. Enough to keep it there while a layer kept it from directly touching her skin, but not so tightly as to prevent blood flow.

Emiya got up, not bothering to look at Shepard as he did.

"Hold the ice-pack on for half an hour and then don't get out of bed. Don't get up until tomorrow morning. Just let it recover. And then check yourself to the infirmary."

Shepard licked her lips, blinking. "But, what about training—"

He turned around, shooting a glare at her. "Fuck the training, you can barely walk."

His words echoed through the room, everyone quietly observing the byplay. Three dozen eyes stared at him quietly, before they began muttering to each other. Emiya exhaled, hot air rushing out through his clenched teeth.

"Or don't. Doesn't actually matter to me, does it?" He grumbled, leaving to go wash his hands. He wasn't sure what he was getting so worked up about, but he needed to be alone for fifteen minutes and get his head back under wraps.

He closed the door to the toilets behind him. There weren't any proper stalls or anything, simply a common area for everyone's use with a few cubicles set up. Another measure by the Navy to get everyone used to each other by denying privacy. But he was alone for the moment; no one would follow him in for a while. He opened that tap, letting the water run for a moment before washing his hands and splashing his face.

The cool liquid felt strange against his hot skin. Was it the use of his magic circuits or his own hot temper that felt like burning iron in his veins? He thought he had long since left behind that hot-headed youth, back when he had left the Clock Tower to travel the world.

"This place is getting to me." He sighed, whispering the complaint under his breath as he stretched his neck. He took another deep breath, working to calm himself. It didn't work, somehow. His pulse was below 40 beats a minute, yet still the hot blood seemed to be coursing through his veins without rest.

He closed his eyes, focusing on his heartbeat—drowning out the rest of the world until nothing else existed.

Finally, after an eternity in a fraction of a second, he opened his eyes again. The distant look in them was back; he was just an outsider. This place had nothing to do with him.

None of it had anything to do with him. He repeated the mantra, again and again. He was dead and gone; a heroic spirit even if in name only. His part to play in the world was long done. He had no right to intrude upon the world of the living any more.

Even if his regrets piled high enough to touch the vaults of the sky.

"Just get to Mars and that's it. You're done. No more than that." He said, half-convincing himself that it was so simple as he closed the water tap. He ignored the hypocrisy of his anger at Shepard, telling himself it was nothing.

And in the mirror, the untainted and unbroken reflection of a man he had thought he had left behind stared back a him, denying all of his rationalizations.



;


"Serviceman Emiya. Do you know why you've been called here?"

Emiya stared at the wall blankly, saying nothing as he stood at attention. He was staring straight ahead, looking nowhere near where the woman who had called him in was. That was probably why she had not told him to assume parade rest; it was to show who had the power in this situation.

Meaningless.

The instructor, the somewhat-sadistic woman who had run the pistol safety drill, stared at him. She frowned, putting away her omnitool. He could see that she had been going through some report, which seemed to be a record of himself.

She sighed.

"It figures. While your concern for your fellow soldier is commendable, the way you went about it was completely wrong. Not only did you enter facilities to which you have no right or clearance for, I have received several reports of people worried about your behavior towards servicewoman Shepard. All you have managed to do with your stunt is earn the enmity of many of your peers, perhaps even including her." She spoke, eyeing him carefully.

He had noticed as much, himself. Returning to his bunk the previous night, he had said nothing at all for the rest of the evening. But the tense air had been inescapable and impossible to ignore. He had guessed something like that would happen, but he had gone through with it regardless.

"Serviceman Emiya, did it ever occur to you that we had taken into consideration your and Servicewoman Shepard's physical aptitudes? That the Navy actually takes training its soldiers very seriously? That we were very much aware of how she had been handling herself until now?"

"It did, ma'am." Emiya answered curtly.

"Oh, did it now? Then for whatever reason did you see fit then to intervene as you did? Did it not occur to you to inform one of your superiors or to advice her to check herself for a physical herself before you lay hands on her?" Her tone of voice sharpened as she stood up, walking up to stare at him.

Emiya inhaled calmly, saying nothing. He could have said the he had noticed that they had nothing about her continued isolation or how she seemed to be pushing herself over her limits. He had some thoughts about what they were planning, but none of it was concrete.

They want to mold her into a special forces operative. High-functioning sociopath with a lack of empathy or long-term goals. He had seen those types. They were a dime a dozen in many of the hells he had waded in. In fact, he thought she might still fit right in with those deathseekers. But he also thought she could be something more. The way she looked at other people...

Then again, he had no proof beyond some vague suspicions from the way some of the instructors looked at her. Maybe it was simply a method they used for her types; letting them break themselves and only then coming to their aid.

It would certainly ensure absolute loyalty from her, if it worked. But he had the premonition that Shepard would have toughed it through, even as her body broke with every step. Almost like someone else had. He almost scowled then again, before mastering himself.

"Or was there something more, some sort of other motivation behind your actions? Hmm?" She eyed him with suspicious eyes. "Are you perhaps thinking that you might relieve yourself with her? We have had your types here before, those who think that anything and everything is allowed as long as no one finds out." She said, raising an eyebrow as she stared at him.

The silence stretched.

"Well, do you have anything to say?"

He kept silent for a full minute until she turned around to sit back down.

"One week deduction of pay and extranet access, then. Dismissed."

He saluted her lazily and left. What a bother, he thought as he left her office and walked back.

Arriving back at their sleeping quarters, the entire room seemed to fall silent as he entered. It seemed as if his actions had been given a negative slant by the rest of the recruits. He ignored it as he walked to his bunk, to prepare for the day. Coming to a stop, he noticed Shepard. Just as he did, she noticed him.

Their eyes met.

He looked down, looking at her foot. She seemed to be somewhat better, for what it was worth. He looked up and regarded her.

"Thanks." She said after a moment, tossing the melted ice-pack at him with a casual underhand throw.

"...Hmmh." Emiya grunted, grabbing the ice-pack from the air.

"Mind helping me to the infirmary. I don't think I know where it is." She asked, seeming less hesitant and more sheepish.

He blinked, slightly surprised.

"Sure."



;



"What you are receiving now is you personal Aldrin Labs Onyx light armor." The chief spoke as they all took a closer look at the bundles they had been handed. "Like your Kessler pistols, these will remain with you. Even if you change ship or base, you will not be expected to hand in your guns or armor to the armorer excepting for routine check ups. As they have been specially constructed with your proportions and body type in mind, these are your hardsuits."

Emiya felt a little uncertain about that, as he still hadn't exactly finished with his growth spurt. But it seemed like the arms and legs could be detached and adjusted, so perhaps that had been taken into account already. Everyone seemed excited, as these were the real deal. Every recruitment poster and vid had these on their models, every action movie and game had these out in display; and now they had their very own hardsuits.

"Of course, as there is a wide variety of products available, you are often allowed to purchase your own to replace the standard Onyx armor. As long as it has been cleared by your Armorer and superior officer, it should be fine. As you can see, I prefer the Devlon Industries Explorer suit myself." He said, motioning at the hardsuit he was wearing. Unlike the slim and simple black things they had received, it was white and black with much bulkier armor pieces.

Emiya looked down, running a hand down the matte black surface of the armor in his hands. It was fresh from the factory; without any wear and tear one would expect from armor usually, but also void of any lingering sentiments or thoughts.

The industrial revolution had brought on a massive shift in how things were created. Handicraft required a lot more work, not only for creating the individual item but for creating the craftsman as well. When Emiya beheld an object created by a master craftsman, he not only beheld the item itself but also the traces and paths the creator had walked in order to arrive at that items creation. The years of hard work and practice it took to acquire those skills.

But with the factory line, as production increased and became much more impersonal, those traces became far more muted and distant. He could still look into it; could see how the factory worked and how the item had been created. But all those personal thoughts, emotions and sentiments from weeks of work and decades of dedication were no longer there.

"As it is your personal hardsuit, you will be expected to understand it inside and out. It is not only armor, but also your uniform and field dress. One of its main functions is to protect you from the cold of space, so I am sure you all understand how important it will be to make sure it is always intact and functional, even and especially aboard starships."

He let his curiosity get the better of him; inhaling sharply he let his magical energy reach out. Simply by seeing an item he could read a great deal of information regarding it, but when it came to items that were not swords or weapons, a more intimate touch would be necessary.

The hardsuit appeared in his mind's eye as he imagined it. Every detail, feature and part was perfectly reproduced in his head without fail. There were some interesting materials and production methods used, but all in all it was not anything spectacular. Then again, it was a mass produced baseline piece of protective equipment so he couldn't expect anything more out of it.

Well, that was assuming the circuitry and the empty channels and tubes were there just for show. He had only read the material properties and protective value of the suit, after all.

"Now, to get into the theory before we get into the brass tacks of maintenance and how to put them on. Later tonight after dinner, you will be taught by Chief Rogers how to put them away into your regulation lockers." The instructor continued, nodding at his silent partner who nodded at the recruits at the mention of his name.

He then tapped his own chest to show his own hardsuit; the sound his armored glove made against the chest piece was markedly dissimilar from their suits. "As you can see, my hardsuit is quite different from the ones you have been given. This is mainly due to the rating, but there is more as well. To put it simply, the Systems Alliance has adopted the Council Standard of body armor in the past decade as it has been proven to be a reliable and easily-translatable standard.

"One of the most important functions of the suit are of course the various sensors. There are a variety of sensor set up designs, but for your suits it is the basic set only. When you wear your helmet, it will in the Heads Up Display portray a blue circle in the lower right corner of your vision. This is your Combined Sensor Read Out. Consider it a radar, allowing you to see a variety of things around you, within a set distance. One of the main functions is to allow you to spot unknown actors before they become a threat, giving you an edge as ambushes can be foiled and hiding attackers can be handled. Once it is connected to your omnitool, you can adjust those settings and perform more specialized tasks." Saying that, the instructor used his omnitool and suddenly a monitor began to show a view from the instructor's perspective. On the screen, they could see themselves as they looked at the man and in the right corner of the screen was a small pulsing blue sphere which showed a large group of red dots in the top sector. "As you can see, my suit has detected your life signs and due not having been logged in as allied forces, you are shown on my radar as hostiles. The agenda for this lesson will be to fix that."

He grinned as he said that. The recruits whispered at that, pointing at each other and trading thoughts. The instructor let them digest that for a moment, standing silently for a few seconds.

"Hardsuits have three layers of protection to keep you safe from harm, be it mass accelerator fire or environmental hazards. The outermost of course are the kinetic barriers. Inside your hardsuits are small microcomputers and eezo cores, which work to create a shield of sorts around your body.

"Of course, if it was on at all times it would be a huge drain on the batteries, as well as get in your way when you tried to sit down or use your gun." The instructor continued explaining, walking over to a far wall where no one was near him. The other instructor—Gunnery Chief Rogers—walked up, pulling out his pistol and fiddling with the settings he continued to talk.

"Therefore, it has been hooked up to the the suit's sensors to activate only when it detects something in your surroundings. A variety of patented designs exist, such as detecting mass effect field fluctuations or detecting quickly moving small objects coming at you. But to put it simply; if a bullet is moving fast enough to hurt you, this will happen." The instructor turned to Chief Rogers, nodding at him. "Go ahead."

"Weapon hot; firing." Rogers spoke quietly, raising his pistol and pulling the trigger once. A muffled report, lower than the usual gunpowder-powered firearms Emiya had become used to, rang out and a blue flash erupted before the instructor's body.

"As you can see, it works quite effectively. But as I mentioned before, the batteries remain a limiting factor which means that under continuous fire or if struck by a very powerful round, the kinetic barrier will definitely fail. Also note that it will not protect your from direct manipulation by mass effect fields or from environmental hazards. Biotics for example will ruin your day just as easily as a big gun will."

Emiya blinked, making a note of that. It seemed like the kind of thing one would forget until the worst moment. Overall, he felt a strange urge to ask whether they were called Holtzmann fields as well, but he quashed that thought.

He had wondered what some of the electronics and wiring running through the suit were for, but that began to make some sense of it. He had merely evaluated the suit based on its material properties before, but realizing that there had been more to it was quite interesting.

"So, since there are things which will come through our handy dandy barriers, let's move onto the second level of protection. Material construction. This is where the Council-space classification comes in. Currently, there exist three levels of protection; light, medium and heavy armor. These are simply put based on a relative-to-wearer-weight classification, which reflects how well it can protect you. For light armor, the amount of material used is often minimal; only enough to get the job done and to let you survive in your class 1 hazardous environment. Constructed often simply of layered fabrics without ceramic or metallic plates or reinforcements, they offer complete freedom of movement." The instructor said, walking up to a recruit and grabbing his Onyx hardsuit and lifting it with one hand.

"As you can see, they aren't the toughest of things, but they are better than nothing. If you'll end up on a spaceship, you will probably be fine with them as is, but if you apply for the ground-pounders who see some real action, I recommend something tougher." He put the suit down, thanking the recruit for letting him borrow it for a second.

"Medium and Heavy as similar, but tend to have simply more material. For the parts of the body that do not need to move, such as the shins or torso, the use of harder materials is normal." The instructor said, tapping at his limbs to show off such plates. "During prolonged combat, it becomes crucial to know how to repair and maintain heavier armors in the field, thus using them requires special training as well, along with physical conditioning to get used to."

Emiya felt that that was simple enough; physical armor had not changed much even as the materials improved. Layered fabrics had been used throughout the ages, from ancient Greek Linothorax armor to the kevlar vests of his day.

The modern fabrics used in the suit he had been given were quite impressive already, but he could definitely see an advantage in adding some additional hard pieces. Just like adding metal pieces to a vest could turn it into a brigandine or how against larger caliber rifle ammunition steel and ceramic plates had been used during his lifetime.

"Finally, but not least importantly, we have the most recent addition to the Council Standards." The instructor said with a proud grin. "Humanity's very own Sirta Foundation has ushered forth a new era of technological advancement. That last layer of defense is the in-built medical systems, which monitor you and administer first aid as necessary along with medigel in case of catastrophic damage. That isn't all, either. In case you suffer a bone break or lose a limb, modern military hardsuits are also designed to harden around the injury, making it possible for medigel to be administered without worry of having your leg the wrong way or bleeding out.

"According to the desk jockeys I talk to, since the introduction of medigel systems, mortality rates in firefights dropped by 14% percent in a year. Talk is, the Council had wanted to ban the stuff, especially the Turians after how tough our boys proved to be on Shanxi, but in the end they couldn't go through with it given how useful the stuff is." The instructor grinned as he crossed his arms.

"But that's enough theory. Time to get you boys strapped in and show you how to wear these things. First, pop the seal on the back of the neck and..."


;


"Now that all of you are familiar with all of your gear, it is time to learn how to use it all. I trust all of you have already managed to link your omnitools and hardsuits up. Today you'll be learning how to navigate in an urban environment. You'll not be given any weapons, but you will be expected to follow certain rules that will... shall we say enhance the experience, heh."

The chief laughed, grinning widely at the formation of recruits standing before them. They were finally E4; something more than merely wastes of space in the eyes of the Alliance. They were more than people who existed only to be a bother to everyone else. Now they at least knew how to generally stay out of the way. For the most part.

Which meant it was time to teach them how to act out in the field.

"You will be working in the smallest unit that the Alliance Navy uses; a three man team. As you will remember from your theory, that way you can have all of your active sensors scanning a third of the surroundings at maximum efficiency. This will give you a 40 meter range to work with. Each of you will be required to handle a hundred and twenty degrees. Fail that, and not only do you die, but so do your buddies."

Emiya looked around without moving his eyes, wondering who he would be paired up with. It wouldn't matter; he was quite experienced in urban warfare and the material they had gone through hadn't contradicted or refuted any of his old skills and knowledge.

"—and as such, as previously outlined yesterday, you shall not be outfitted with the usual navigation suite. I'm sure you're all familiar with the nav-systems from your everyday life. Need to find a nice restaurant? Just pop the question and you get real-time, real-position instructions. But in the Navy we don't always get that luxury. Sometimes, you will be laboring under information control inferiority, which means every connection is to be cut off lest the enemy hacks you! To that end, the fine gents upstairs have decided to be so kind as to bestow upon you the chance to learn how to get about in new territory.

"In fact, we've made sure none of you have ever been here before. Whoever said the Navy never takes you anywhere nice, eh? Heheh. Your job is to use your short-range scanners, one satellite scan of the area that has been marked with checkpoints you will need to go through and your own skills to make your way today. No nav-systems, no real-time mapping, no directions. We'll be watching all of you, so do know that if you try to cheat or use the extranet or some other nonsense. Well... Privy cleaning duty will be the least of your worries." The chief laughed darkly, then crossed his arms. "So, all clear? No questions? Good!"

Emiya was an old hand at this kind of stuff, really. He had fought in most every kind of environment, short of actual zero-G. So finding his way wasn't going to be all that difficult. He was actually kind of looking forward to that, since it was something entirely new.

But this? This he could do in his sleep.

"So, when you hear you name, step up and group up as instructed. Abrams—!"

Emiya blinked, noticing that Shepard was smirking as she looked around.

It seemed like for the first time in a long time, she seemed excited about something. Overall, she had retained her dour mood and kept to herself even as everyone else grew more and more familiar with each other. Well at least now she talked to other people. It was something.

Well, it wouldn't have anything to do with him. He'd already roughly figured out how they would be divided into teams, so he guessed they wouldn't be grouping up.

"Emiya!"

"Sir!" He answered, jogging to where the chief was pointing. He glanced at the two familiar faces waiting for him. They nodded at him in greeting but kept quiet. They had never talked, but he could sense a slight tension.

Emiya sighed, slightly annoyed that he was suffering the repercussions of Shepard's stand-offish attitude from before. These two had tried to approach her and been rebuffed quite brutally and then she had gone and directed them to him, early on. Though Emiya had done nothing at all, that feeling of rejection still clung to him as they met again.

"I'm Emiya." He introduced himself and they relaxed a little at his friendly tone of voice.

"Heh, nice to meetcha. I'm Rodriguez and this is Franco." The taller of the two said, grinning at him as the third member of their trio nodded as well.

"Well then, let's rock this boat, yeah?" Franco said, grinning as he pointed at the starting line for the urban exercise. They would be leaving with 15 minutes spacing out between each team, given a route and a destination, with several checkpoints along the way.

Orienteering, really.

Emiya smirked back. "Shouldn't be too hard."


;



All in all, it wasn't anything difficult. Certainly, making good time in unknown territory while avoiding spotters and keeping an eye out for traps and ambushers was always somewhat challenging. But given that they had been handed a map taken from orbit and their omnitools, it was somewhat amusing how easy is it actually was.

Oh, perhaps the lack of a reference or guidance in the map was meant to be a setback, as the instructor had turned off their omnitools' automatic mapping and guidance feature, but seeing as how they had all been taught how to make the most of their omnitool, it seemed a bit pathetic.

Perhaps if they only had a paper map or a drawing of the general topography, it would be somewhat more challenging. But given that as long as they simply could use their omnitools off-line, well... When you have a detailed and precise one-to-one map of the area and the tool that could record your acceleration and changes in movement with its in-built sensors, it was hardly a bigger bother than simply linking the picture and placing a simulated marker based on the sensor data on that picture.

Making a program for that was easy, even with what little they had been taught about omnitools. It wouldn't even take half an hour to whip up something like that. Less if they didn't have to double-check their scripts for errors.

Emiya wasn't exactly sure what they were being taught here. Were they expected to know how to find their way around without the automatic map marker and navigation guide by regular pathfinding skills? Were they expected to use the orbital scan provided as a regular map? Were they supposed to write a program, using all the tools and data available?

Or was there some other way? Asking one of the locals? It seemed counter-intuitive given the stated goals of this exercise. Perhaps they would be penalized for making contact with a civilian. Perhaps everyone they ran into would be someone undercover. He couldn't quite tell.

Perhaps it was a point to test and observe the recruits, to see what they did and how they handled it all. It made sense, given that they all wore omnitools anyhow and their instructors must have kept some oversight over those to insure no one used the extranet or whatnot.

In the end, he dismissed Rodriguez's suggestion of writing a program for a simulated map. After all, regular orienteering is simply a matter of abstraction, memorization and referencing. 'If I'm here, then there should be this', 'If I take a left here, I should come across this' and such.

It took some convincing, since apparently the two were inveterate "hackers", or so they claimed. They boasted about having gotten the haptic finger implants for hologram controls at the age of 12 and having been coding their entire lives, saying that it wouldn't be even difficult to write something like that.

But it would still have taken a half hour, even assuming no errors in code.

Given how practiced he was at keeping an image in his mind and manipulating it inside his head, something like keeping track of his own position in a two-dimensional plane while plotting out the shortest route to an objective was child's play.

The real challenge came in spotting the traps and ambushes they had been warned of. At regular intervals, Emiya would spot someone waiting around at a strange location or something out of place in the route and they would be forced to take a detour to avoid being penalized.

By penalized, they meant 'pretend-shot to death in a crossfire', but really it was just a slap on the wrist for not paying attention.

Occasionally, he would spot what would be an obvious ambush, so he would be forced to be creative. Going through a private yard or abandoned house; jumping into the river and diving past an ambush; climbing up a tree to use the rooftops. At one point, they had a perfect chance to counter-ambush a group of ambushers, but they decided to move on instead.

Every once in a while he made sure to pop open his omnitool, as if making sure that they were still on course and that they hadn't made a wrong turn. Really, it was to check if the map changed without notifying them or if any of their checkpoints changed while they were still moving.

It wouldn't be funny if they came to the end, only to find that they had missed three checkpoints which had been added in a minute before they finished. Or well, it would be to a certain extent. But it would reflect poorly on their performance.

"Just this down this road and we're done." Emiya announced, dismissing the map as he nodded forward.

"Rea—ha, hah—really? Shit, this was a lot easier than I thought. And shit, you can run. Now I get where you put away all that food." Franco said, panting between words.

Supposedly they had alloted the whole day for the exercise, but Emiya had managed to keep a good pace and they had cleared it in less than two hours. Well, mostly cleared it. Just the homestretch left. Behind him, the two physically older recruits panted as they leaned against the wall.

By a good pace, Emiya meant 'as fast as we can go while avoiding the patrolling chiefs and without dropping from exhaustion halfway through'.

Which, even with all of their training and gene therapy meant a considerable strain. He smirked at the two, standing tall and unwearied in comparison. It was all about proper breathing, really.

"Let's go. I'll treat you to some grub afterwards and you can die in your beds once it has no bearing on my performance."

"F... Fuck you, man." Rodriguez said, laughing weakly as he forcibly straightened himself to not seem inferior to Emiya.

"Right, right. You guys can carry me, right?"

"Nah, your fat ass can drag itself." Rodriguez snorted, turning to jog after Emiya who had already begun to move.

"Ey, man. I thought we were friends." Franco whined, before shaking his head and beginning to jog after them.

But halfway to the finish line, Emiya blinked as he spotted another team running parallel to them a few blocks away. Coming in from another angle, they were a team consisting of his fellow recruits. A moment later, his teammates spotted the other trio.

"Whoa! They're fast!" Rodriguez noted with some awe. "Is that Lola?"

Franco peered at that, until he spotted the redhead himself. "Fuck! It is! Go time! Double-time! Let's go! Let's go! I ain't losing to that chica this time!"

With that, the man formerly at the tail-end of their group began to pull ahead, passing the casually running Emiya as he pumped his limbs for for all they were worth. Panting loudly, with his mouth wide open and tongue lolling like a dog's, he seemed quite ridiculous.

"Yeah, fuck that! Let's go, let's go!" Rodriguez shouted, increasing his own pace to match Franco in front of him.

Emiya looked to the side, noticing that the other group—including Shepard, as the other two had noticed—had spotted them, too. And noticing the increased pace, a competitive spirit was ignited inside them as well. He had to sigh; had they just kept up their normal pace, they would have still come in first. It was unlikely that the other group would bother trying to increase their pace because of them.

But no, they had to start sprinting and catch the other groups attention with their energetic running.

They had started 15 minutes apart of each other anyhow; who actually crossed the line meant little since Emiya's group had started afterwards. What did it matter if they won the other's time by one second or two when they had already caught up an entire quarter hour?

Still, he might as well indulge the others. The increased his breathing; both in volume and in frequency, his heart kicking into higher gear to match the increase in performance from his body. He might not have the same level of physical ability due to his lagging enhancements, but his stamina was second to none!

Legs pumping, arms swinging, lungs expanding and deflating, all in perfect sync with one another; Emiya began to pull ahead of Rodriguez and then Franco.

On the other street, the other team increased their speed in their desperate last spurt, but it was obvious that it was the last energies they had being burned out; the last fumes in their gas-tank being expended. Emiya grinned, as he ran past both of his teammates and placed himself in front of them.

The two clowns wouldn't last it to the finish line on their own. But in Emiya's slipstream, with less air resistance? That they could do. Emiya looked behind himself, half-grinning at them as they desperately tried to keep up with him. Dismissing them and looking forward, Emiya continued to run. His back taunting, as if asking 'can you keep up with me?' as he said nothing.

At the last fifty meters, it became obvious that they had pulled into a lead already. The other team could not cross this gap in time. As Emiya kept increasing his pace until he crossed the 'finish line' with a satisfied smirk.

His legs burned, his throat was dry and he had to breathe deeply and hard to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest. But nonetheless the feeling of satisfaction was undeniable. Behind him, several seconds later, Franco and Rodriguez came at a slightly slower pace but just as exhausted and worn out as he was.

A second later, they sprawled at the ground as they could focus on nothing but their hammering hearts and their burning lungs. Another scant few seconds later, Shepard came bounding in on gazelle-steps.

She bounced on her feet for another few steps past the imaginary finish line that ran in front of the not-at-all-impressed chief, who stood there with his omnitool on. She breathed heavily, just as they all did, but looking none at all pleased with herself.

Behind her, in the distance, her team came jogging at a far more sedate pace as they had all but realized that they could no longer catch up.

"Well now. If you kids have this much energy, I'll have to up your physicals to match that. Heh, to think I'd been going this easy on you." The chief spoke, exuding a sadistic joy at the expressions the four panting recruits made at that suggestion. The two from Shepard's team turned to glare at them, while Franco and Rodriguez turned to glare at Shepard.

Emiya merely chuckled, shrugging under the chief's stare. Shepard did not seem to notice the quip at all.

"But for now, good job, boys. Shepard. Get yourselves to the shuttles and you have the rest of the day off. Never say I don't reward good work." The chief spoke, waving them off with one hand as he manipulated his omnitool deftly for a few seconds to note who had arrived and when.

Franco raised an arm, fist pumping at the heavens as he couldn't still get up from where he lay. "Take that, Lola... Take... that..."

Shepard merely looked at the panting recruit with a nonplussed expression of inquiry, before shaking it off and walking away while staring at her map. Or rather, glaring at it. Emiya finished getting his breathing under control and glanced her way, sneaking a peek at the map as he did. He moved to walk after her, as she was headed for the shuttles.

Huh, she did pretty good.

He blinked, then made a whistling sound of appreciation, causing Shepard to turn and stare at him with half-furrowed brows.

"Nice." Emiya commented simply, but when that only made her glare turn annoyed, he paused for a moment. Ah, she realizes we started at different times. That we didn't really arrive in the same run time. But she hasn't realized the other difference yet.

She glared at him, probably thinking that he was patronizing her. Or that he honestly hadn't figured it out and finding his congratulations hollow. Well, that wouldn't do at all.

"We might have caught up by fifteen minutes since you started first and we arrived at the same time, but you had at least four more checkpoints. Your route was longer, definitely accounting for more than fifteen minutes had we been running it." Emiya whistled again, waving his hand to show that he was roughly guessing at numbers here. "I'm impressed, to be honest."

He shrugged while still half-smirking as he laid it on thick, as if noting what-can-you-do about it. She blinked, then looked down at her map again. She looked up, glaring at him.

"Show me yours."

"Oh wow. So direct. Well, I don't hate that in a girl, I suppose." Emiya smirked at her as she blinked. A second later, just as she was about to retort he opened up the map from his omnitool for her to see.

She opened her mouth, blinking at the map and then deciding to let his comment slide as she stared at it, brows furrowing. He had already compared their routes and made some guesses as to what paths she had taken. All things considered, Emiya was impressed. She knew how to navigate the densely built and confusing urban environment far better than he did. Only his superior pace had probably made the difference.

She had grown up on streets like these for real, after all.

As she seemed to arrive at the same conclusion as he had, he closed the map and turned to walk away. As his body began to cool down, he realized he had been acting out strangely. The endorphins from the runner's high and the impulse to set her record straight had made him act in a more natural manner.

He realized with a frown that he had just had fun.

...It's fun to mess with her. But there's no need to get to actually know her. Calm down and focus.

"Hey, Emiya." She shouted after him and he merely turned around as he walked backwards, not bothering to stop. She looked at him quietly for a second and then shot back a smirk of her own. "Nice running. But next time you'll be the one eating the dust."

"We'll see." Emiya huffed in amusement before he could stop himself, shrugging at her.

She was opening up, just as he was. Somehow that felt like a good thing, despite him know that it wasn't.



;




Emiya inhaled, opening his eyes as he looked out the shuttle. Everyone else in the shuttle still seemed to be asleep. At the exhale, he closed his eyes again as he fell back into his meditation.

A month had passed and their training with their equipment continued as scheduled. They learned to use their omnitools and their hardsuits, how to field strip and service all of their gear and how to find faults with diagnostics and physical checks so they could make a report about it, to make it quicker for technicians to repair.

They shot several times a week and learned the basics of weapon handling and maintenance. In Emiya's experience, it had been customary to train recruits first with rifles as longer arms were simpler to produce, service and train with. It also made it easier to keep track of all the guns, as sneaking away a rifle was a lot harder than doing the same with a pistol.

But in the Systems Alliance Navy it appeared that the side-arm reigned as the basic of basics. For a variety of reasons, apparently.

Usually, with service on board spaceships, space was ironically enough at a premium. Weight, too. The lighter the gun, the less there would be for the engine to struggle with when taking off the planet. And since handling a gun like that was difficult in such constrained spaces, the smaller weapons became the standard.

And while in his era accuracy and stopping power was lacking with most pistols, in this modern day and age such worries had been long since overcome. The miniature railgun was capable of firing powerful and accurate rounds, completely overcoming the limitations of old. Once they hooked up to their hardsuits and connected the inbuilt computer with the pistols own computer, aiming assistance algorithms made shooting even more accurate.

Scanning their iris and lining it up with the sights of the gun itself, it could correct the targeting within a 10 degree radius of where it would normally fire. It might not seem like much at a glance, but at 40 meters where few of the new recruits could reliably hit the target, turning on the aim assist and getting ten perfect bullseyes in rapid succession made them feel like they were on top of the world.

Emiya had tried it and found it fairly effective, if a bit slow. He could just aim himself if he wanted to hit, he decided. Not that he did, as it would raise suspicion. They had, of course, also gone through some of the "eyeballing" technique with the pistols. That is to say, aiming as it was done in his day and age, with a proper sight picture and focus.

Don't look at the rear rights; just align the front sight and the rest works itself out. Lean slightly into it to absorb the recoil. Don't pull the trigger, press it without shaking the gun. Off-hand index finger should rest against the trigger guard to further minimize the shaking from pressing the trigger. Find the rhythm to firing, so that your sights line up automatically as the recoil stops and your sight picture is on target again...

Shooting—like most if not all fighting related skills—was a perishable skill, but for him it had been so ingrained as mantras that re-learning it was a cinch.

And in a strange inversion of the 21st century where it was cheaper to build slightly larger guns, in the 22nd century it was cheaper to cut down on the frame material necessary for a larger gun. The electronics were so cheap and the amount of eezo necessary to power the round was minimal, that in comparison they were negligible to the other costs. Stranger still, given the longer rails needed for a rifle and overall higher output of the rifles, the costs grew exponentially which made a shorter weapon much cheaper to produce and maintain in the long run.

For the cheaper end pistols, a DC pulse in the range of 10,000 Ampere was sufficient which was apparently feasible with the cheaper types of batteries and a few mid-range capacitors. While that was already a ridiculous number in Emiya's mind, it was far more reasonable than the 50,000+ Ampere that rifles used, often with much higher rates of fire.

For that kind of current, it was necessary to have some top of the line capacitors. Even modern day batteries could not easily produce those kind of currents, therefore other components were necessary to make it work. To create such laminated and incredibly dense materials, extremely high power mass effect fields were necessary for production.

Which obviously enough, did not come cheap.

On top of that, the cooling systems required to handle the heat produced by the stronger and faster rifles were also much more expensive. With a relatively anemic and slowly firing side arm, the amount and type of material was much more forgiving. Even the firing block shaver was much more expensive when rapid fire was necessary.

Additionally, with the shorter ranges of conflict, the in-built sensors and computer did not have to be as expensive either. And since you already had a computer that worked to connect and record everything done, the old worry of stolen or misused gear became moot, anyhow.

Thus, the pistol reigned as the main workhorse of Systems Alliance personnel.

So slowly they grew accustomed to their Onyx armor and the Kessler pistol as the were instructed and taught. But at the tail end of the month, the focus began to change. The amount of lessons they had went into a decline and the amount of field exercises they had rapidly diminished as as the focus turned to tests and questionnaires by the instructors.

They were already E6's after all. Once they graduated to E7, they would be shipped of elsewhere. Now it was crucial to find a suitable place for each new cog in the great system that was the Navy.

The recruits also realized this, as they were now almost done with basic training and off to get into something more interesting and exciting. There was talk among several of trying out for non-commissioned officer and cadet lines or some of the special forces; the N-line of training being a hot topic among the toughest and most ambitious among them.

N7 were the toughest of the toughest, the best of the best. Everyone knew that.

Emiya already had his eyes on where he needed to go and he was fairly certain no one else shared his destination. General Engineering; the G-line. Not even combat engineers, per se. Rather they were simply the people who kept everything running. The fixers and shiners, who were passed around from spaceship to spaceship as things broke down and needed fixing. Rather than a grenade and a rifle, they carried their omnitool and an oil canister most of the time. A lot of things needed lubrication on a spaceship on a regular basis, after all.

A rather boring line, as the general consensus went. Little to no combat training, just a bunch of general electronics and eezo theory along with months and months of practical, hands-on experience with fixing everything and anything before you were shipped off to wherever there was need of a technician.

Though, the pay was decent enough and once you got out of the military you had the papers to get in pretty much anywhere anyone needed stuff fixed. Not that he cared about any of that as retirement was so long ways off that it had never even entered his mind.

Emiya would be using this body for a week at most and then abandoning it to return to the Moon. There was only one reason for his choice of training line.

The training base was on Mars, as he had found out early on. It seemed like a long while back already, that he had arrived on Earth. He had no other reason or objective behind that choice. Once he was there and had accomplished his mission, he could just get back to the Moon and be done with it all.

Simple and clear.

All in all, only one more hurdle presented itself before him, before he could apply for the G-line. Their final field exercise, held in Brazil in South America. They would be divided into teams of three and would be dropped off at a random locations, given only the basic equipment and weapons and then handed a set of objectives to accomplish.

Rather similar to the orienteering and field exercises from before, but simply more. For one, they were handed their guns for once.

They hadn't been told much, simply that there would be further instructions once they landed in Rio de Janeiro, from where they would then be sent out into various locations around the country. Brazil had during the era of commercial spaceflight been one of the strange countries which had at the same time experienced a massive drop in population as well as a massive shift in its national industries.

With off-world colonies looking for anyone and everyone willing to work, the poorest and most numerous populations of Earth had been preyed upon by various companies willing to ship them off with a promise of a brighter future and a pat on the back. 'Sign a five year working contract and we'll take you to a new world, full of possibilities and chances!' some of the old slogans, still existing in archives had proudly proclaimed.

As usual, new frontiers had drawn in everyone who lacked the means to move up in the world as it was around them. So the favellas and slums had seemingly been emptied out over the course of a few years, back when humanity's expansion was at its most aggressive.

Leaving vast swaths of previously populated territory completely empty and unused.

Which in turn had up-ended and entirely transformed the economic reality of various countries, forcing them to invest in entirely different and new industries to stay afloat. Today, tourism was Brazil's largest source of income, as the long and warm beaches remained still a cultural icon of what humanity considered paradise.

For the Systems Alliance, this had meant that relatively safe-to-use and cheap locations to field massive training exercises were entirely practical in Brazil. The local government was more than happy to lease out three or four ghost towns for the Alliance to train in, finding no better use for them themselves.

So here they were, being shipped off in shuttles to Brazil for their last test. For a lot of recruits, this was a monumental event that would shape their careers for years to come. The instructors had assured them that a good overall rating everywhere else would not be negated by a terrible performance in this field exercise, and that a terrible overall rating would not be overturned by an excellent performance.

But still, it was human nature to look as the last as the most important part. Everyone had been excited for this the night before, discussing the possibilities and probabilities of the exercise and its results deep into the night, a part of the reason so many had fallen asleep immediately upon the shuttle's take off.

Emiya mostly felt hopeful for the prospect of getting out.

They were being monitored constantly, surrounded by others constantly, scheduled and jostled around at all hours of the day. He was a naturally industrious and hard-working individual, who made most of every hour of the day so that wasn't very much different. But that was not the same as military life.

He chaffed, to put it simply. At least as a Guardian when he had sold his soul, the Moon Cell left him alone for decades at a time. It would be good to be out of here he decided, somewhat regretting not simply stealing a shuttle on that first day already. Then again...

"Why the long face? You scared?"

Emiya opened his eyes, looking up at the grinning redhead next to him. Shepard winked, punching his shoulder lightly once to know she had his attention.

"Don't worry, I'll keep you from getting shot too bad." She grinned at him.

"Is that so?" Emiya grunted, turning thoughtful. "Last I remember, I had to carry you back."

She huffed, crossing her arms. "That was a just drill for medical evacs. Besides, I did cover your back when you had me in a fireman's carry, yeah?"

She mimed a pistol, pulling a trigger several times as she shot at an imaginary target.

"Mm, I guess you did." Emiya allowed.

They stayed quiet for a minute, the hum of the shuttle and the snores and shuffling of limbs the only sounds between them. For whatever reason, Shepard seemed to have taken a shine to him during the last few weeks.

Perhaps it was the similarities she found between them or something else, he couldn't quite tell. But whenever possible, she would team up with him and try to beat him. Before he had realized it, he had begun to quite enjoy their little competitions.

Still, this would be their last. After this, he was certain that she would not be one for the technical duties of where he was going. Whenever something related to eezo or biotics came up, her eyes would seemingly glaze over. In contrast, while on her feet and with a gun in her hand, her eyes seemed to glow with the excitement and dance around like sparks.

It showed in her overall performance as well. She tended to scrape by her written exams, barely passing on her second try. Then again, it was probably for the better. He had to go back to the Moon, anyhow. No reason to prolong this. Whatever this was.

For better or for worse, this would be his last time working with the strange redheaded girl.

"Let's make it a good one." Emiya said and Shepard grinned at him, throwing him an oblivious thumbs up.


;

Thanks to Tisaku for proofreading.
This chapter was probably the most edited piece I've ever written. I had to read it over and over, edit it time and again because it never really satisfied me. I should read more drama and stuff, given how difficult it was to write, despite the fact that I don't find the stuff particularly appealing. If anyone has any thoughts or pointers on how I did, how I could have improved it or how bad it was, I would really appreciate the feedback.

Also, next few chapters will be rather action-oriented. Thank goodness.
 
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Chapter 5: Welcome to the City Lost to Time

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
"Serviceman Emiya, Servicewoman Shepard, Serviceman Cassani. You will be team Charlie-4." The Lieutenant Commander before them said, not even bothering to look up from his datapad as they walked up to him. "You will be heading for shuttle 14, over there. Your lift off is in fifteen minutes. On site, you will receive your primary objective and on the way there, you may attempt to fulfill the secondary objectives en route as you wish."

"Will they affect our score, sir?" Franco asked, hesitating for a moment as they had never before had to directly deal with an officer.

But the Lieutenant Commander did not seem to care one whit about the recruit's hesitation. He looked up, his dark complexion that hinted at various ethnicities quite eye-catching. He had dark eyes, dark short hair and high cheekbones that made him seem more than a slight bit intimidating.

"Obviously. You are judged as a team, based on how many objectives you are able to accomplish, if you are able to complete any at all. The main objective is imperative; the secondary objectives will not be counted towards your final score if it has not been completed. If one of you is taken out, that will bring penalties to the rest of the team's score, but mostly to that person who got hit. But points can easily overturn that." He droned on, before looking back down to his datapad.

"So if we're all back in one piece, but with no objectives completed, we'll get a low score? But if only one of us gets back but we've done a bunch of stuff along the way, we'll get a much better rating? Even the ones who have been... taken out?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. That's about right. A lot of things go into the final tally, but mostly you will be observed in how you handle yourselves in the field. Just remember that you aren't the only ones out there; this is a field exercise with participants from several fleets along with your batch." He answered, nodding towards the valley behind him.

They were standing on a mountain-top, where below them they could see a city that had been half overtaken by the jungle that had encroached on it slowly over the years. A ghost city, once home to tens of thousands, now completely abandoned and left for nature to reconquer.

"Worst case scenario, we run into some N7's, huh?" Emiya noted with dry humor, making Franco and Shepard blink at that thought.

"H-hey, that can't be right, can it? We can't handle something like that?"

The chief smirked at that, saying nothing. Gunshots and engines of vehicles in the distance could be heard, echoing over the rooftops and around the alleyways and street corners of the crumbling buildings.

"Your weapons will be set to minimum power and thus your kinetic barriers will be set to tally up if you have been shot by someone else. The sensor will recognize the shot even as the round will bounce off harmlessly, and the internal servos of your armor will lock up to simulate damage. Your heads up display will show a relative health which reflects how damaging a shot would usually be." He continued explaining, droning on as he did. This must have been his dozenth team to debrief at the very least. "Thus, taking off your armor or firing upon someone out of armor will not be tolerated. There should not be anyone wandering around here, but you can never be too careful. We will be monitoring your progress and internal camera-feed, but if something happens contact us with your omnitools before something goes wrong."

"Yes, sir." They answered.

"Are they our allies, or will they be shooting at us down there, sir?" Franco asked, nodding toward the valley.

The NCO looked up from his datapad, regarding the recruit with cool eyes.

"I could not say. It will depend on your mission and luck, I suppose. Worst case scenario? You'll be the main objective of some real tough guys. Lucky them, then." He said, with a grin.

To that Franco laughed nervously, deciding that perhaps he didn't want to know any more.

"Right... we'll just have to find out on our own, huh." Shepard shrugged, though a small smile seemed to be gracing her lips. It was complete chaos down there, from what she could see. The terrain could change entirely within a single city-block, as trees and undergrowth had taken over wherever they could.

At places, trees could be seen growing out of collapsed buildings even. This should be fun, she thought.

"If the power is scaled down on our pistols, does that mean we'll have effectively larger magazines?" Emiya asked, patting at his pistol. "I mean, the gun should overheat less per shot if they bring it down. Or is the strain on the kinetic barriers so much smaller that it scales as well? That we have to shoot forty times before their shields break?"

The chief blinked, looking up and regarding Emiya with some interest. "No, they put on a shot-cap and simulate overheating with the software. Same thing with your Onyx armor. One shot in simulation represents one shot in reality. Basic equipment as usually used, they just handle all of the simulation with alternate software settings."

They all blinked at the implication.

"We haven't done anything like that, though?" Shepard muttered, drawing her own pistol and regarding it curiously.

"The higher ups handle it. A network virtual intelligence makes sure everyone's guns and suits are set to simulation while keeping track of you. It's safe enough, we've been doing this for years without problems. You can't even be down there with an active eezo core without triggering a flag somewhere in the system that checks that you aren't using something dangerous." He reassured her.

"Doesn't that mean that anyone could theoretically hack our guns?" Emiya asked, realizing the downsides to having a high-powered computer stuck onto his guns and armor just now.

The chief grinned, nodding at Emiya. "Hope you don't run into any combat engineers down there. Sure would suck, that. Heheheheh."

"Aww... Fuck this shit, man..." Franco cursed under his breath, only audible to Emiya who glanced at him at that.

"Wouldn't that make us vulnerable in general? Wouldn't it just make sense to turn all that stuff off to deny any hacking access?" Emiya asked, frowning. It seemed like a considerable downside to him.

"Sure, but then you'd lose all your aim assist functionalities, the HUD data from your gun and your smart-lock might turn off since it no longer recognizes you as the owner of the gun. Running completely analog's been proven to just not be worth it, so we stick with it despite the risks. Besides, the Alliance takes its cyberdefenses very seriously. This only works because they've literally got the backdoor key to all your gear." He explained, for once seemingly actually interested in the three standing before him.

"That makes sense. Not only does it give the grunt on the ground an advantage, it also gives the commander more accurate feedback from the battlefield. I see why things are the way they are now." Emiya said, nodding.

"Heck, you've got a good head on your shoulders. Thinking about becoming a combat engineer?" He grinned, whipping out his omnitool and bringing out a floating, glowing sphere from it. "The Alliance could always use more drone controllers and tech saboteurs; it's a part of our general doctrine after all."

Emiya considered that, before shrugging. The Lieutenant Commander turned to the two others.

"Nah, I'm good at running and gunning and not much else. Can't wrap my head around mass effect and eezo at all." Shepard said, shrugging before crossing her arms.

"Well, just keep your mind open to it." The chief nodded at the shuttle with a grin and a thumbs up, much warmer now than he had been before.

"I will think about it. But... Is this really all? I would expect there to be more rules and regulations for us to know about. What to do and what not to do. To me it seems like you haven't really told us much at all..." Emiya said.

"Don't worry about it. First timers don't need to know anything; you'll be fine regardless. Or rather, there ain't much room for you to fuck up. You kids should get running along now, your shuttles waiting. And good luck out there."

"Thank you, sir." Emiya said with a nod, before turning to leave for the shuttle as he thought about those words.

It seems they don't expect us to be able to do much at all. This is more of a shock to see how the recruits handle a chaotic battlefield and being left to their own devices; a stress test. Emiya considered that, before a small smirk threatened to show on his face. But doesn't that conversely mean that we are allowed to do just about anything, since they haven't forbidden it?

With those thoughts, Emiya boarded the shuttle.

The NCO huffed, looking down at his datapad with interest after following the shuttle taking off and flying into the city.

"Emiya, was it? Should be an interesting fellow." He considered for a moment, before deciding that he 'might as well', as he brought out his omnitool. "No one will mind if I just plug into the network and watch their progress, right?"



;



"Touchdown in fifteen seconds!" The comm sounded inside their helmets and they shouted back their acknowledgment.

The three all wore the same gear; an Aldrin Labs Onyx light armor and a Hahne-Kedar Kessler pistol. All in all, a considerably anemic load out. But hopefully their mission and the resistance they would encounter would scale to match that.

A notation regarding a new message to his omnitool blipped in Emiya's HUD.

"Team-leader Emiya, have you received your mission parameters?" The comms asked and he replied quickly.

"Yes, sir." Emiya answered, slightly annoyed that due to his generally highest scores he had been assigned as team-leader. He didn't really need to perform well here, but now that he was here he felt a slight obligation to not simply coast along.

And a part of him, which he did not quite want to admit to, felt his old heart beginning to beat a bit more rapidly at the thought of action again.

"Good, then starting as of right now, team Charlie-4 is a-go!"

"Aye aye, Sir!" They all answered as the shuttle touched down. Franco took point, his pistol scanning their surroundings. Emiya and Shepard followed, jumping to touch down on the roof.

As soon as everyone was on the ground, the shuttle took off and flew away.

They stood on a flat rooftop. Around the edge ran a rusted chain-link fence that had been bent and torn in places. Behind them stood a rotten and broken water tank and what looked like an old utility shed or transformer box. To the right lay a closed hatch; presumably the way down from the roof.

Around them, houses of similar height and proportions could be seen everywhere. They weren't quite in the center of the city, but they were near the eastern quadrants center. He motioned for them to gather up around him.

"What's the mission?" Franco asked.

"Not yet. We must have been seen by everyone near our position and the HUD map doesn't show any allied forces nearby. We need to move before we can start thinking about what to do in the long run." Emiya answered.

Shepard blinked, taking another look around them and peering for any hidden enemies with suspicious eyes. "Well, if you insist."

They opened up the hatch to get to the top floor, making their way down all the way to the third floor of the building at a relatively brisk pace, until they found the stairway collapsed from that point down.

"Can we jump down?" Shepard asked, peering down the edge while feeling tempted to kick a loose pebble over. She was fairly certain that a drop this long wouldn't be pleasant, hoping that they would not have to try it out.

"No, let's not." Emiya said simply. Too much could go wrong; even assuming that it was safe from booby traps or ambushes of any kind, jumping down would be too dangerous. In the worst case scenario, it could break the floor they landed on and even cause the rest of the building to collapse down on them. "There's another stairwell at the other end of the building. Let's check it out."

"Gotcha." Shepard nodded, turning to slowly lead the way with her gun held in her hands.

Many of the windows had been broken already, but though some were still in one piece if dirtied to the point of opaqueness by the passage of time, giving them an occasional view of the outside street and adjacent houses.

They saw no one outside, hearing only the distant sounds of turmoil reverberating queerly through the empty buildings around them. But a sound that did not belong joined that far-off cacophony. The 'frontline' of the battle raging was in the distance, somewhere to their east. At the very least it was two klicks off.

The discordant noise however had come from below them. So quiet that it could not have been more than the scraping of a chair against the floor, or a rusty door hinge. But he had definitely heard it.

Emiya halted, putting his hand on Shepard's shoulder. As the team leader he was walking in the middle while she took point. She did not turn around to look at him, merely kneeling down against the wall as she kept her eyes open and watching their front. Behind them, Cassani was handling the rear and he came to a halt next to Emiya.

"What's up?" He whispered, glancing at Emiya while lowering his pistol.

"...Someone's below us." He stated quietly, furrowing his brows as he tried to picture the layout of the building. Based on the floors they had already walked down, he could make a fairly accurate guess. He could also have used Structural Analysis to get the entire blueprint, but he didn't really need to.

It could have been anything, really.

But in his experience houses were the worst kinds of place to be when you were engaged in open warfare. Urban combat was the thing of horror stories, of ludicrous mortality rates and of battles that bogged down for weeks and months on end as no one could gain a decisive advantage.

Urban combat was the meat grinder where armies went to die.

Inside of any given house there existed over a dozen places one could lay in wait for someone, turning each room into a potential death-trap. Behind every door, below every window, under every piece of furniture could lay a waiting gun or rigged bomb, just waiting for the opportunity to ruin your day.

In pursuing his dream of becoming a hero of justice, Emiya had naturally dealt with such circumstance countless times and he had methods for safely clearing a house of any mundane hostiles. But those methods were not usable right now; this was not just any fight for their lives, this was a monitored and recorded exercise.

He could not simply whip out his magic whenever he needed a quick solution, lest he give away his secrets. Emiya had been told to keep his head down which meant that revealing the existence of magic to the Alliance military was about as catastrophic failure as he could imagine.

Besides, it felt like cheating. Not the exam per se, but rather himself. He tried not to think about what that meant about himself, that he was enjoying this.

Still, that meant he had to use what he had been taught in the months prior for the most part. Which meant going through the house room by room, door by door, corner by corner. He could not hesitate. If someone was below them, they were either setting up an ambush or moving up to intercept them.

"Change of plans." Emiya said. "Shepard, lead to the west end. We'll jump onto the rooftop next to this house through the window. Once we're on the ground, we run like hell."

He had seen the building next to this one as they had walked. At this height the adjacent roof was only a meter bellow them, thus it should be entirely feasible for them to jump down. Hopefully, it would allow them to avoid the ambush he suspected had been set on the floor below.

Unless the shuttle's flight plan had been known or this was someone's base of operations already before they landed, he had to assume that whoever it was down there below them, had set it up in the scant few minutes since their landing.

That implied a very skilled and formidable team; someone they did not want to tangle with.

"...Seriously? You just said jumping down was bad." Shepard asked, turning back to look at him with wide eyes.

Emiya nodded. "It was. Now it's better."

She blinked at him and then shrugged. He was the team leader after all.

"Alright." She said, getting back up as Emiya raised his hand from her shoulder.

They turned around, making at a much quicker pace as they backtracked through the hallway they had just cleared. Opening a door as quietly as they could, they entered some sort of office at the west end. An old desk and a broken office chair lay on the floor, with the walls long since stained by the weather.

They closed the door and then lifted the old desk to barricade it while Emiya scanned the streets and buildings around them. He stayed low, barely clearing the window, as breaking a straight line like the window frame was one of the best way of being spotted and shot when trying to hide. He saw nothing, which was a good sign. Turning around, he froze as he heard another sign just as Shepard and Franco were done with their make-shift barricade.

"Damn, they're—" Emiya tried to speak, but by then it was already too late.

A shot rang out, punching a small hole clean through the wall. It hit none of them but surprised the other two so much that they flinched at the sound and flying debris. Leaving a fist-sized hole through the wall, Emiya could see the stairway through it.

fast! Emiya finished the sentence in his head, his eyes widening as time began to slow down in his perception. They already realized we wouldn't be coming down? Do they have some kind of superior tracking equipment? We can't face them head on!

"—WE NEED TO GO!" Emiya shouted, changing what he had been about to say as the turned around and vaulted out of the window. Holding onto the edge, he let loose and fell down onto the roof one floor below him.

It was actually a fair bit further down than he had thought, but it was still a doable jump. Especially as they faced an attack from the rear if they stayed.

The breath was knocked out of him, but he rolled with the impact and managed to keep himself unhurt. Looking up, he spotted Shepard and Cassani on the window ledge and about to jump down—though the latter seemed much less willing.

"Come on! Now, jump!" Emiya shouted, jumping down from the roof onto the pavement on the ground level. They needed to be gone before whoever it was that was looking for them actually got a bead on his team.

The two came down, landing more or less intact though far less gracefully than he had. A second later, a bright light and a deep sound exploded inside the room they had been in. They shot through the wall to make a hole for a flashbang grenade.

Shepard rolled and grabbed the edge of the roof she had landed on, making her way down to the street as Cassani looked up, his eyes wide as he realized that someone had just attacked the room they had been in seconds before.

"What the—"

"No time! Let's go!" Shepard shouted at him and it only took Franco a moment to realize that she was right.

As Cassani jumped down with a heavy 'oomph' at the impact, the sound of the door in the room they had been in breaking could be heard. Someone had rushed inside and shouting could be heard.

"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"

Three almost simultaneous shouts could be heard a second later. They're experienced at breaching; dividing the room into parts and being able to trust your team enough to not react to anything outside of your slice-of-the-pie, merely handling your own sector like they trust you to, requires considerable training and trust.

"Cross the street, over there double-time!" Emiya shouted, kicking off at his top speed. Behind him a second later Shepard and Cassani followed.

"They're outside!" Emiya heard in the distance over his own rough breathing as he sprinted at breakneck pace for cover. If they remained out in the open streets, their attackers would have the cover and height advantage.

Halfway to the other side, Emiya felt a cold chill run down the back of his neck. A danger sense of a kind; the ability to feel bloodlust and killing intent had saved his life on many an occasion during his life.

thoom! An explosion roared in his ears.

He jumped to the side the instant he felt the danger; moments before he had even heard the sound. But his limitations in this body, without using magical energy, meant that it was too little too late. Someone up on the second floor had gotten him in his sights and Emiya had only been able to react the moment just before the trigger had been pulled. Even with the bullets massively slowed down so that their kinetic barriers could handle it, they were still traveling far too fast to be dodged at a human level after being fired.

Emiya could only half-avoid it, trading a direct hit for a glancing one.

He stumbled, feeling something. But upon the instant realization that there was no pain and that he hadn't been knocked over or tripped by the shot, he recovered and kept going. He jumped and rolled for cover behind the corner of a building.

No, not cover. Their guns, even at the dialed down state could still easily punch through the walls. It was merely concealment; something which prevented the shooter from getting an accurate shot. Emiya raised his pistol, reaching around the corner and blind firing at the windows to give covering fire for the two others, still lagging behind. Shepard and Cassani came a second later as another duo of shots ricocheted off the ground, cracking pavement and kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Neither seemed hit; the covering fire from the pistol had at least worked as a distraction.

Shepard had seen him get shot, taking evasive action and running in an unpredictable manner to avoid getting shot and Cassani following her had followed suit another second later. It had been enough to prevent the shooter from getting an accurate bead on them.

A single-action weapon with several shavings; a shotgun? Emiya noted distantly as he recovered and noted that everyone was fine. Lucky for us. Excellent for breaching, but it seems like it scatters heavily even at a middle distances. Had we stayed inside we would have been completely outmatched.

"Are you okay?" Shepard asked, running up to him and patting at his body. "Did you get hit?"

"Yeah." Emiya noted and turned around, nodding with his head to motion that they should keep going. "The HUD is telling me it was a glancing blow; wouldn't have punched through the armor apparently. But it would have fractured my hip, so the servos are locking down to simulate a blunt-force trauma."

"Will you be okay?" Shepard asked, licking her lips as she ran alongside him.

"It's fine. You guys okay? Did either of you get hit?"

They shook their heads to indicate a negative.

"Good. We need to find a place to hide. We can't outrun these guys if they can keep shooting at our backs."

"Okay, leave it to me. I can find a hundred places to hide in a city like this!" Shepard nodded with a determined look in her eyes as she began to take point again.

They ran for two minutes, turning corners and cutting through buildings and yards wherever possible. Ideally in urban warfare, you never wanted to be on the streets as that made you a sitting duck. Either you set up two or more teams and moved in rotation while the others were in cover and kept an eye out for anyone attacking, or then you tried to move inside houses, breaking outer walls whenever possible to stay out of the open while slowly digging forward.

But they didn't have much choice as it was and after another minute of desperate running, Shepard banked and jumped inside a large house. The lowest floor, where she entered, looked like it had been a cafe once, with large windows and plenty of space in front of a sturdy counter.

She vaulted over it, disappearing behind the old wooden shop counter. Emiya and Cassani followed after her, jumping for concealment. They all leaned back against the darkened and weather-beaten wood as flakes of old lacquer came off at the contact, taking deep breaths to recover from their running.

Thirty seconds later, running footsteps could be heard. They held their breath, lying as low as possible.

They passed by, well over fifty meters away judging from the sounds of their running. Shepard sat up to peer over the counter, but Emiya grabbed her arm and shook his head at her when she looked at him.

He raised a finger to his mouth and then lowered his hand down, signaling her to be quiet and to stay down. They must have some kind of radar that allowed them to track his team inside of a building. Probably based on sound or heat emissions.

The sun had been shinning all day and the lacquered counter, making it hot to the touch. Perhaps that had been enough. Or maybe there was a distance limitation. Whatever it was, they had escaped for now.

Emiya raised a finger to his mouth again, showing both of them to keep quiet for the moment. As they nodded back, he opened his omnitool and began to look into all the information he had received now that he had a moment to spare.

A map of the town; a main objective and a list of secondary objectives. He raised his eyebrow as he looked at the latter list. It was several pages long and constantly changing. One mission would disappear, another would appear, in one the parameters would change abruptly.

The overseers who are monitoring all of us must be updating and controlling them in real time.

He sighed as he read their main objective: arrive at rendezvous location marked on map for extraction at 19:45 this evening. They had to survive an entire day in this chaotic battlefield? He almost felt like laughing at that. For a team of fresh recruits, being thrown into this kind of conflict was akin to being thrown into a meat grinder head first.

Add to that the fact that they were completely alone. It even specified to treat all other forces as hostiles.

It was certainly doable, but given that they knew nothing about what was going on around them, who was where and why, and that they had to cross the city to get there it seemed more than a little bit too challenging for a team of fresh recruits.

Not only were they lacking in training—well, the other two more so than him, but he was a definite outlier here—but also in equipment and weapons. That much had been obvious from the sole encounter they had had so far. Better guns, specialized grenades, sensory equipment and who knew what else?

He glanced at the side missions before dismissing them as worthless distractions. The freedom they offered the recruits here was to observe how they behaved once under pressure and in a boundless environment; to see what they were really made out of, he guessed. As they had been told, the main objective was the only one that really mattered. Anything more was just showing off.

And he had no interest in showing his cards.

Emiya closed his eyes and listened. Even without using Reinforcement, it was possible to hear surprisingly accurately what was going on in your surroundings if you simply know what to make of each sound. The general rule for keeping track of surroundings was that in cities you used reflections while in the wild you listened for any kind of sounds.

But that was really only describing the former in a non-combat setting where looking around would reveal your attention and when there was enough civilian hustle and bustle around you that listening was impossible. As for the latter, as their current surroundings were undoubtedly of a city that had been reclaimed by nature, it was entirely logical to therefore rely on his hearing here.

Especially since looking around would reveal his position if someone was looking for them. He couldn't hear anyone nearby. Which meant that at least it should be safe to talk.

"Right. Our main objective is simply to survive until the evening and to make it to a rendezvous location across town." Emiya whispered.

Shepard seemed surprised while Cassani seemed exasperated.

"Oh yeah, shouldn't be a problem so long as we don't run into anyone. Oh wait, five minutes in and we almost ran into a someone! Fuck."

Shepard glanced at the cursing man, hitting him lightly with the back of her hand to keep him quiet. "Don't worry, we're good as long as it's just a couple of guys. I can find a dozen hiding places along the way, no problem."

"Well, there's that at least. Until they start throwing more grenades at us." Cassani allowed with a defeated shrug.

"No. We'll be better off getting out of the city and into the jungle. We'll take the long way around and circle around them. Better to stay off the main battlefield since we don't have the kind of gear which would stand up." Emiya said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked, furrowing her brows. She was used to cities, having lived all her life in one. By that account, she was also fairly unfamiliar with jungles and she was more than a little worried about having to go there.

Would Emiya even know how to navigate through a forest, she wondered silently.

"Can you hear... that?" He asked, raising a finger as he spoke the last word. A deeper sound rang through the air, much lower in pitch and louder than other ambient gunfire. "That's not just any small arms mass accelerator. I bet they have some kind of large cannon mounted to a vehicle or something. We need to stay away from that thing at the very least. They say that infantry is the queen of the battlefield, but artillery is the king."

"Huh?" Cassani blinked.

"Ah," Shepard nodded, understanding Emiya's point. She looked at Cassani, tilting her head. "What does the king do to the queen?"

"...That's a really good point." Cassani said as he nodded nervously. He looked at Shepard, gesturing with one hand. "He makes a good point. Big guns are bad, yeah? I don't think our hardsuits can handle that stuff."

Shepard frowned, considering it for a moment before she nodded. "You have a plan?"

Emiya shrugged. "Not so much a plan as a 'let's see what happens and hope no one shoots us'."

"I like the sound of that one." Cassani nodded.

Shepard huffed, but did not protest. Emiya took a deep breath, then slowly began to peek over the counter. Scanning left and right, he looked for anything unusual outside on the streets or in the buildings.

He crouched back down again, looking at Shepard, "Looks clear, get us east and we'll get into the forest. After that I'll take point."

Shepard nodded and rose up, pistol held at the ready as she looked around a second time. Not that she didn't trust Emiya, but it was good to verify herself as well.

"Alright, follow me."



;



They continued quietly through the broken and abandoned city.

To Shepard and Cassani, the broken down and overgrown city ruins must have seemed like an alien world, yet to Emiya it was far more familiar than the barracks and Navy headquarters had been. The architecture was from a more familiar time and the decay was something he was familiar with.

The cracked asphalt and shattered blocks of concrete lying around. The potholes and bullet marks left behind from previous exercises and the sheer passage of time. The strange tension in the air as every house and street around them remained dead and silent.

He had been through many places like this in his life.

Of course, in the distance they could hear the sounds of heated combat. Sometimes a more powerful gun could be heard, along with explosions and other strange noises. It was so far away that it felt like an entirely different world, yet it never abated enough to allow the strange mood of the abandoned city settle in completely.

"How much further?" Cassani asked as they continued to jog.

Emiya looked around, then glanced down at the map that had been uploaded to his omnitool. He had a mental image of it in his head, but there had been a lot of changes apparently. Some streets had been blocked off as buildings had collapsed and sewers had crumbled with the passing of time.

"Half a klick and we're in the suburbs. Another two and we should be good." He said. As long as we don't run into anyone on the way, he added to himself. So far had been fairly good, given that they hadn't run into anyone yet.

"Who do you think those people from before were, the guys with the grenade I mean..." Shepard asked, turning to look at Emiya's back as he lead them.

Cassani shrugged.

"Probably the previous bunch of recruits, who've already gone through basic and chosen their lines." Emiya said. "Though that's just speculation?"

"Huh?" Cassani asked, not really understanding it. "Why?"

"Throw in the fresh newbies and see how they react. Let the older, better trained and armed guys bully them around a little to get them used to getting their teeth kicked in..." Emiya continued, explaining with slight smirk. "Get us bloodthirsty and angry. Then later, when we've gone through and graduated from basic, we get to do the same to get some payback on the new recruits."

"Like a hazing or... induction ceremony, you mean?" Shepard asked.

"Maybe. It's what I would do. Get people used to stress, or at least weed out who is fit for combat and who isn't."

After that, none of them spoke. Perhaps the thought of facing off against their seniors made them thoughtful, or made them want to keep quiet so as to avoid any other encounters.

They went through hollowed out buildings and through narrow alleys whenever possible. Though those were more easily booby trapped, it was still safer than running out in the streets and being spotted half a mile away.

And generally traps were only placed once the combat continued for prolonged periods of time. This field exercise had only started today, even for all the other groups. This much Emiya knew. So their haste was much more justified in that.

Emiya's suit's internal medical apparatus, which had been re-purposed to simulate injuries through a software update, did not actually slow him down all too much. It wasn't like he had actually been injured, it merely clamped down on him to give resistance to his movements. It felt slightly strange, as if someone was hanging off of him and keeping his hip from moving freely, but he powered through it.

As long as he adjusted to compensate for it, he could keep up just fine. At this level, it would only be draining his stamina and nothing else.

At one point, there didn't seem to be any way forward, so they backtracked and jumped over the roofs to continue onward. After one building almost collapsed under them, they finally gave up on that even as they made good time, and got back down to the street level.

If the city center had been dilapidated, the suburbs were little more than rubble and piles of refuse around the trees and undergrowth that had come to reclaim the abandoned lands. Encroaching from the outside in as the plants did and due to the less sturdy construction materials used, the widely spaced and smaller houses had been mostly eradicated already.

To Emiya, it was nothing new. Though the scale of the city, the climate and the length of time the city had been allowed to be destroyed was new, he was still familiar with places such as these. In his time he had seen the results of disease, war, famine, natural disasters and much, much more.

But to Shepard and Cassani, who Emiya gathered had always lived in the bustling and ever-awake cities, this was a landscape from their wildest fever dreams. Expensive houses and neighborhoods; places they could probably only dream of having lived in, completely destroyed and abandoned.

Small manses, large and small private homes, garages and remains of other buildings littered the landscape around and beneath the young trees. He even saw a gazebo that had been lifted completely off the ground by a tree that had sprung up beneath it. Nowhere in sight could you see the bare ground, as wherever there was space a plant had grown up to take advantage of the sunlight.

The knee-to-waist-high undergrowth swayed in the wind, like a green ocean as they walked. After a while, above them a light canopy of treetops began to form as trees began to appear more densely; a cloak of thin branches and green leaves stretched out to clad them in the formless shadows of the leaves above dancing to the wind.

Shepard began to falter and slow down, staring around with wide eyes and a slacked jaw, Emiya took over as pointman. He let the two gawk and wonder for a while as he consulted his mental map again. At this point, he had little more than a top-down picture and a topographical map that showed the elevation relative to sea-level since the trees above hid everything else from satellite view.

Not much to go on, but that was jungle-warfare for you. Fog of war everywhere; a neutral veil of uncertainty for everyone. Even people who lived in a jungle knew that the terrain was ever-changing and ever-treacherous and that few maps were worth anything past a month or two.

You simply had to know the rules and take every step as a first into unknown territory. Already twice Shepard and Cassani had almost stumbled as the ground—hidden from view beneath undergrowth, as it was—was actually not as flat and level as the foliage made it seem.

Once they got underneath the ancient tress where the canopy blotted out almost all of the sun, they wouldn't have to worry so much about the undergrowth with each step. With no sunlight, the weakest of plants died off, underfoot to the mighty giants that stood tall in the distance. Of course, if they went further in, they would run into vines and other things which would require a machete and hours of time to pass through.

But they wouldn't go in that deep.

"It's been a while..." Emiya sighed almost nostalgically, wondering whether those primeval giants still stood in those far-off jungles he had trekked through in another lifetime. He could clearly still remember, how perfectly straight they seemed; those dark looming pillars of eternity, like a cathedral that stretched high above and as far as the eye could see.

"Did you say something?" Shepard asked, walking up to his side.

Emiya blinked, realizing he had spoken out aloud just now and shook his head. "Sorry, just musing."

"...Musing?" Shepard tilted her head at him curiously, as if she had never heard the word.

"Thinking. Pondering. Considering. Something like that." Emiya said with a shrug, thinking that it would be enough to end the conversation.

But Shepard only seemed more interested if anything, noting that he did not seem nearly as lost as they were and growing ever more curious about it.

"About?" She asked, leaning in to stare at him as they walked.

Emiya felt slightly taken aback as he had gone back to staring straight ahead, not expecting her to continue questioning him, but didn't let it show on his face.

"Well, I'm quite thankful that this hardsuit is rated for all kinds of stuff. It's pretty great out here, despite the climate." He said with a shrug.

She didn't seem to understand what he meant as she frowned at him.

"You might not realize it with just your face bare, but it's pretty hot out here and the humidity would make it even worse. Normally, we would be sweating buckets right now." He said with an amused smirk, pointing up at the glaring sun. She frowned, turning thoughtful as she realized the truth of his words.

Only her face felt particularly warm, but she wasn't sweating. The suit felt comfortable on her. Neither hot or cold in particular, rather it seemed to be regulating itself to a comfortable level to allow her to keep moving without rest.

"Huh. Yeah, I guess you're right. It would suck having to walk out here without these things on." She said, smiling a little.

Emiya made an amused huff, but did not say anything. He noted how little they sweat, which threw off his internal clock. He didn't even feel thirsty yet, despite all that running and walking earlier. Quite different from what he had been used to, really.

Not that he was complaining.

They continued, arriving at a strange flatland as they began to circle the city towards the RV point. The ground must have been paved for miles in asphalt, as still only the toughest of weeds grew through the cracks. A thick layer of undergrowth, ranging from knee-height to all the way up to their hips grew everywhere. Collapsed buildings dotted the landscape, like some ancient beasts' skeletons as young trees grew here and there as prelude for what was to come.

It looked like some old industrial area, with storage buildings or hardware facilities all around them.

In ten more years, Emiya wouldn't be surprised to see this area having turned into the beginnings of a jungle like the terrain they had passed through earlier. It wouldn't resist the return of nature any better than the suburb had, it was only a little bit behind on schedule. Still, with the remnants of asphalt crumbling underfoot with each step, their pace grew considerably.

It stretched on for at least half a kilometer, Emiya judged as they moved from cover to cover. To avoid being detected from afar by naked eye, it was essential to consider the basic of camouflage; silhouette and shape they cast against the background; colors standing out; reflections of light from metal or plastic; shadows standing out; sudden motion and the sounds they made could all reveal them.

Thus Emiya took care to choose routes which hugged collapsed buildings and large bushes, walked through shadows and shade, went below the highest peaks of small hills and crests as far as the flat terrain permitted. All in all, it was a rather pleasant walk outside on a beautiful day.

But as pleasant as their walk was, it had to end eventually.

Pshhhzztt—

"Huh, what was—" Shepard turned around at the sound.

boom!

Emiya's eyes widened, his hand reaching out for Shepard and grabbing her wrist as he jumped down. She made a grunt of complaint as all the air in her lungs was pushed out by the fall, wresting her hand free a moment later to go for her pistol.

An instant later, the second shot came over their heads, whizzing past. The sound of the gun followed a second later.

boom!

"Missed." Emiya noted, checking his barrier and the status of the two barriers noted in the upper corner of his HUD, signifying Shepard's and Cassani's status. Shepard was fine, but Cassani was in the red.

"Wha—What's going on?" She asked, noticing only now the kinetic barriers herself.

"A sniper." Emiya concluded.

"Huh?"

"The delay between the shot hitting Cassani's barrier and the disproportionately loud gun report suggests a long-range sniper." For a moment, he wondered how it was shooting in the first place. Their guns had to be tuned down in order to not risk their shields failing, but that would mean that the minuscule bullet they fired would not be able to hit anything at a distance.

Not unless the gun's computer was automatically ranging and performing calculations for velocity correction.

He had distinctly heard Cassani's kinetic barrier crackle before he had heard the shot, which meant a supersonic projectile. A weapon with that kind of power would still punch through their armor and kill them, at closer ranges.

"Cassani, are you okay?" Shepard asked, crawling towards the fallen and still form lying on the ground.

"Uh, kinda can't move here. Says I've got a 'shattered spine, minor internal bleeding' here. That's bad, right?" Cassani spoke up, quietly, as if someone was sitting on his lungs.

"Yes. Congratulations, you're crippled for life. Well, for the duration of this exercise anyhow." Emiya answered.

"Oh... Well. Shit."

Cassani sounded fine, Emiya noted as he turned his attention away.

That meant that the projectile must have been shot with enough velocity to carry it all the way here, but not so much that it would punch through their kinetic barriers. So the sniper rifle shot at a higher velocity than other weapons, because at the distance it was used in this simulation it would still slow down enough not to be a problem? That must mean some sort of range calculations took place, probably a part of the software they used for the exercise. Or was it perhaps handled by the overseers through tracking who was where and feeding the rifle appropriate data?

Which might mean a lag in firing between distances long and short distance. He could use that.

"Shepard, get Cassani and on my mark run for the house over there with him." Emiya said, pointing at the remains of what had been once a fairly nice two floor house, painted yellow with a red tile roof. Even as new those walls would not have provided anything in the shape of protection against a mass accelerator, but it offered enough concealment that hitting them would be difficult.

Shepard nodded and began to crawl, staying low enough that she could not be seen as she made her way to the downed Franco.

Perhaps if the sniper had long-range sensors, they could have been shoot through the walls, but given that they hadn't been shot through the ground or grass yet that seemed unlikely.

First of all, he would need to find the sniper.

Well, that wasn't a problem. With his experience when it came to long-range combat and the two shots he had heard, he had had plenty of information to make a few educated guesses. He had already been eyeing the terrain around them as they walked, noting good locations for ambushes, traps, firing locations for various kinds of weapons and more.

He figured there were three good places where the shots could have come from, since the point of origin for both shots hadn't changed.

Assuming the sniper was alone, he had probably already moved to avoid being detected and to get a better angle while they were scrambling about—no, the sniper had shot the rearmost in their team to buy himself another second with the rifle while they hadn't noticed. Generally if someone in front of you was shot, you would react immediately whereas in this case most would have been confused for a second and had to look around to realize what had happened.

It would normally give the sniper enough time to aim for the next target.

It was textbook. Too textbook. There was none of the personal flair that came with experience and skill, the small touches and tactics that reflected the sniper's mindset. And even though Emiya had immediately dodged for cover, the second shot had been too hasty and hadn't predicted their movements at all. The shooter was new; inexperienced. Probably not much older than they were.

So he would hesitate. Additionally, if he had support, they would be flanking while the sniper held Emiya pinned down. That made sense to him and he felt his plan fall into place; fifteen steps, with variations and checks to see if his initial assumptions held true or as things could change.

Emiya's old instinct began to resurface, the steel re-aligning itself as he turned back to the skills he had cultivated as a deluded murderer of men.

But he couldn't just react and shoot at them; that would be too suspicious in hindsight, even as he already knew where the sniper was, he couldn't simply act out as if he had read the script beforehand. He needed to play a part to avoid raising suspicion.

A second had passed since he had ordered Shepard to go for Cassani and Emiya turned on his omnitool. He navigated the menu, finding the connection to Cassani's hardsuit.

"Cassani, give me access to your interface." Emiya said, pausing as he was stopped by a password query.

"Huh? Yeah, okay." The answer came back, half-dazed.

Emiya continued on, going through the other's hardsuit data until he found what he wanted. A vidfeed popped up, showing what Cassani was looking at in real time. Emiya smirked, checking the options.

Rewind.

"Gotcha." Emiya said with a smirk. He pulled up the map on his omnitool, placing a small dot that represented Cassani on it and then aligning the paused vid with how it stood. On the frozen screen, the kinetic barrier flashing as it stopped the bullet was seen; a blue bubble rippling out like the surface of water disturbed by a cast stone.

And just like the center of disturbance could be seen on the surface of water, it was clearly visible on the kinetic barrier as well.

He could based on this see where the shot had come from, both on the horizontal plane as well as in the vertical. Emiya closed the omnitool and looked around, mapping out a route forward and to the south. He needed to move diagonally, so as to force the sniper to move his rifle from Emiya's current position.

Emiya burst into motion, crawling and monkey-walking through the rubble and tall grass. A good side to the high undergrowth was that it offered concealment, but in exchange the taller stalks would be disturbed by his movements, showing how he moved to anyone on look out.

Contrary to popular belief, crawling is not very slow at all. Certainly, when you are perfectly flat against the ground, moving quickly is difficult. But the key lay in understanding the terrain and seeing where you could move and how high up you could raise your torso. The higher you could go, the faster you could move.

Thus, mapping out a route was essential. Generally you wanted concealment from direct view, but here it was more important to avoid disturbing the taller grass. He moved methodically and quickly, using short bursts to cover distances and then moving slowly over precarious positions.

A minute had passed since the two shots. At this distance, if someone was coming for them using cover, they would be pretty close now.

"Shepard, come in." Emiya whispered.

"You want me to go?" She asked from his comms.

"On the count of ten, go."

"...Got it."

Emiya inhaled, drawing his pistol and getting himself into a position where could get up quickly.

One. Two. Three.

He rose up in one smooth motion to his feet, just high enough that his head and shoulders became visible above the bushes. Completely unnecessary; he could have shot while remaining in concealment as you could see through the bushes at this range. But the point wasn't to shoot at the sniper, but to get his attention. That meant exposing yourself.

Time slowed down; color drained from his vision as he focused. He aimed, aligning his sights as he relaxed. Though he could not see the sniper and did not know the specifics of the terrain, he could make an educated guess; enough for his mental image anyhow.

Three sniping positions, all within 10 degrees from each other from his position.

Emiya pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession.

In his mind's eye, the shot punched through three hypothetical snipers' heads, scattering each ones' brains to the wind. He got back down and began to rapidly move diagonally toward the sniper. Like before, he crawled and used the terrain; at one part there was a fallen house and he could get up and actually all out sprint.

Ten.

"Shepard, report."

A second of silence.

"We're good! You okay?"

Emiya smirked.

"Peachy. He's probably seen me and is now focused on me. You see the three houses to your left?"

"Yeah?"

"If someone is trying to flank us, they would come that way. Get Cassani into cover from both that direction and the sniper and wait half a minute to see if anyone is coming. Take them out if you can, but if there's more than you can handle, try to stay hidden and let them pass." Emiya spoke rapidly and the went silent, listening to his surroundings.

Nothing. That means no flankers on this side. If anyone is coming, it will be at Shepard's location, like I thought.

"Got it. And then?"

"If no one's there by 40 seconds, run that way and flank around the sniper. You'll have a clear line to take him out. If there were more than the one guy, they would be flanking, so I doubt anyone else would be there with him. So once you see his back, go to town on him."

"Heh, you sure know what to give a girl." Shepard was smirking, he knew it from her tone of voice.

Then again, so was he.

"Over and out."

"Over and out."

Emiya took a deep breath and then broke out into a run.

Running was bad in general, since it left you open to being shot even as a moving target, but the remains of asphalt here hadn't given away enough for anything to grow yet and he needed to go forward. So it couldn't be helped.

Now.

He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut as a loud—boom echoed. Emiya smirked, noting that it was another miss. And given that he hadn't changed weapons to something like an assault rifle meant that he only had a single-shot rifle for this range.

"Sloppy." He remarked as he continued to move along. He stopped, noticing a good rock—one looked similar enough, anyhow—and grabbing it along as he continued to crawl forward.

Emiya stilled, waiting. At this point, the sniper had missed so many shots that the pressure must be building up. If there were any other enemies here, he should be expecting some gunfire in the distance soon or Shepard calling in to inform him.

Thus he might as well let the sniper stew for a few moments. Emiya calmed himself down, but kept his heart beating at an elevated rate. He didn't want to come crashing down in the middle of a fight.

Okay, that was enough.

Can't let him recover his wits, either.

Emiya turned onto his side, judging the weight of the rock with one hand. He decided it should be possible, rearing back the hand and closing his eyes. By now, the shooter must have moved out of the previous firing location. He had been made, so according to textbook, it served better now as a bait.

From here Emiya couldn't see the sniper's location over the tall grass—either the previous or the current one, which Emiya could only guess at—and they were both out of the basic sensor-range. The sniper must not have a better sensor either, as Emiya hadn't been shot yet either.

But in his mind's eye he could still see the location. Assuming a route behind the cover that he couldn't see over, a novice sniper would move there.

He cocked back his hand and then tossed the rock with all his strength. And in its flight, it looked distinctly quite similar to the flashbang that he been tossed at them earlier. Well, only if you glanced at it quickly and had been trained with grenades enough to recognize one.

Which Emiya technically hadn't. But he guessed that this guy had.

It landed with a light thud, skipping twice around the corner of the collapsed house, right into the shadow where the sniper should be hiding.

"Shit!"

Emiya heard the shout in the distance as he got up with his pistol ready. This time, he didn't rise above the swaying plants, merely high enough that his eyes could pierce through the top of the foliage without breaking its silhouette.

Unfortunately, the sniper didn't jump out of cover. He must have realized it was a rock before he did a mistake that big. Or he could have just frozen in place from the surprise; that wasn't entirely uncommon either. But it was enough of a distraction for Emiya to line up his sights.

Pull—Pffftzzz, pull—Pffftzzz, pull—Pffftzzz, pull—Pffftzzz.

The reports of the pistol were much quieter in comparison to the sniper rifle, to the point of seeming inconsequential in comparison. But the cracking sound of the debris being kicked up where the sniper was, was anything but; he had aimed at the hard rock on purpose.

He didn't have a clear shot at the guy anyhow and the pistol's power was too low currently to shoot through the wall. Sparks were kicked up; small pieces of shattered rock spread everywhere on impact and the sound was like a pickaxe on stone.

Emiya got back down and began to move again; he would flank around while the sniper was busy.

Movement.

Something was thrown out, flying out in the air like a small frisbee. Emiya hesitated for a moment, his eyes tracking the object as he knew for a certainty that he could have shot it, but knowing that if he did it would be too suspicious in the aftermath. So he ran instead. But it wasn't enough as a pulse of something spread out, barely visible as it passed him by.

Instantly his HUD seemed to turn to static and his gun began to beep as if it had overheated. Emiya didn't hesitate, throwing the gun behind him into the grass as he continued to move. Behind him, the incessant beeping continued as he turned off his HUD and kept moving.

The sniper jumped out of cover, having changed his sniper rifle for his pistol as he burst forward at the beeping gun. Some sort of tech-grenade? Miniature EMP, perhaps. Serves dual purpose of sabotaging my gun as well as revealing my position.

Emiya stayed low, stilling his breath.

The sniper came to a stop as the beeping stopped; the overheating would still prevent the gun from firing for several seconds as it cooled down, though. The man was wearing completely different gear; it was half-black, half-green camouflage pattern, with much thicker and robust pieces making up the torso and limb pieces.

Medium or heavy armor. Pistol wouldn't have probably worked anyhow. Emiya concluded as he began to coil up. As soon as he got a chance; as soon as the sniper showed an opening, Emiya would jump out.

"Come out! You don't have a gun, newbie. You're done already!" The sniper shouted, sounding something between confident and relieved.

Emiya merely held back a smirk, having felt that a confirmation of his earlier theory regarding who had been hunting them down. The second-timers in these events probably had missions like 'hunt down the newbies'. But the fact that the sniper was facing his general direction also confirmed that the sniper's HUD radar had picked something out in this general location.

That would be a problem. The gun's overheating sounds had distracted him enough for a moment, but now it might not work anymore.

I'll put a voice-playback on my omnitool and throw it over there and then take him down from behind if he falls for it. I can probably joint-lock him and take his gun to finish him off. Otherwise, I'll make a run for it, there's concealment enough for me to keep him guessing at my exact location. Double back for my pistol and try again. Emiya nodded to himself, feeling his heart-rate pick up in preparation as a smirk grew on his face.

He was having fun, he distantly realized.

Pull—Pffftzzz, pull—Pffftzzz, pull—Pffftzzz.

Three shots rang out unexpectedly from further away.

"Guh, what!" The sniper turned around and Emiya smirked. Nice job, Shepard.

He rushed forward like a loosed arrow, crossing the distance in great big leaps in less than two seconds. His hands shot out and one went to the wrist of the gun as another went to the shoulder in a simple and reliable arm-takedown.

"Ooompphh!" The sniper groaned as he face-planted into the ground with Emiya pressing down on him from above, wresting away the pistol by wrenching it in the direction of the thumb. He spun around the pistol, placing it directly against the side of the sniper's visor.

"How about we call it here. I'm not sure if the kinetic barrier will work this close, you know." Emiya said.

"Fuck you! It's ID-locked! You can't do shit with it."

Emiya blinked, pulling up the pistol and aiming it at a tree in the distance. He pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

"Huh. Well, I guess we're doing this the hard way then."

"Yeah, what are you gonna do—"

"Shepard, mind coming here and shooting this guy for me?" Emiya asked out loud and a second later the woman emerged from the bushes with her pistol held up. She had been holding back from shooting since Emiya had gotten into grappling with her target.

Then again, given that his shields had taken all those shots without a problem, she had hesitated for a moment at whether or not her pistol would even be able to punch through before overheating.

"Sure, no problem. Mind if I start with his feet?" She asked with a grin, taking aim.

"Wait, hold on!"

She didn't, shooting 14 shots into his leg and taking a short break to let her gun cool down and the continuing until the sniper's kinetic barrier gave way. She whistled when she finally got a few shots in and saw his leg begin to stiffen after a shot.

"Man, his shields are way better than ours. No fair." She said, even as she happily continued to work her way up. Emiya let go and dusted himself as she finished off with his shoulders and head. "Think that's enough?"

She looked up at Emiya with a wicked gleam in her eyes. He shrugged with a helpless smile.

"Give him two more for good measure. Both arms."

"Can do, Emiya." And she did.

After making sure that the sniper really was "dead", they finally relaxed.

They raised up the sniper so that he was lying with his back against the ruins he had been hiding inside. He seemed more annoyed and frustrated than anything else, so it seemed fine. Even as they asked him questions, the sniper sulked and remained stubbornly quiet.

"Are you alone or do you have back up nearby?"

The sniper said nothing, but Emiya took the sullen annoyance to mean that he had been alone. If there was back up nearby, a man of this character would have tried to stall them until the rest of his team or squad could come in and mop them up.

Emiya picked up his pistol from the grass and inspected it for damage. On pulling the trigger, he noted that it worked fine again. With some searching, he found the spinning disc the sniper had used before and brought it back.

"What's this?" He asked, holding up the tech-grenade.

The sniper averted his eyes, ignoring them completely. Shepard rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin lightly. The sniper merely looked up and glared, mouthing the words 'I'm dead, remember?' with inaudible sass.

Emiya huffed and then searched the snipers pockets. He found a few more of them, but realized that they weren't as simple as the grenades from his time had been. Emiya looked at the sniper, who was studiously pretending to not be paying attention.

Raising up the unused disc-grenade, he asked "Is this ID-locked... or is it activated with your omnitool?"

The man made a smug little attempt at shaking his head to show that he didn't know what Emiya was talking about, but it merely looked like he was having a seizure for a second as his entire hardsuit had been hardened up to prevent movement.

Perhaps Shepard had been a little bit over-zealous?

Emiya shrugged and put them into back into the sniper's pouch. Perhaps they could be used as diversions and maybe if he shot them, something interesting would happen. But assuming that they were usable by anyone who knew the key for example, the sniper's unit could all probably make them all go off inside his own pouch.

Better to discard unusable items, he figured.

And then looked at the rectangle attached to the snipers back on a Van der Waals-strip, realizing it was the collapsed form of the sniper rifle that had been used earlier. Finally, when Emiya had taken it, did the sniper seem to perk up.

His eyes followed the collapsed form of the sniper rifle like a hawk's.

"Yours, or Navy gear?" Emiya asked with a teasing grin. The sniper twitched. "Borrowed Navy gear, then. But you really like it. No, not it. Her. What's her name? She's a pretty girl. Nice smooth lines, no scratches and good polish. I can smell the oil, too. You must do maintenance on the regular to keep her in tip-top shape."

Emiya smirked as he ran a hand along the collapsed gun, almost fondling it in front of the sniper.

"Fuck you." The sniper glared at him now, finally opening his mouth. "ID-locked, asshole."

Emiya blinked, before thinking better of that snark he had just almost let loose. But apparently Shepard had thought it as well and was not above some more petty revenge for the ambush before.

"What, your asshole is ID-locked? Do you need your omnitool to go to the bathroom, or something?"

Emiya huffed, not so much at the quip; a bit cruder than he had wanted to say but still got the idea across. He was more amused by the confused and then mortified-with-anger expression of the sniper at her words.

"Well, I'll be taking her for a while." He said, standing up with a grin as he patted the rifle. "I'll be sure to be a real gentleman and to send her packing home before midnight."

The sniper was now glaring daggers at them both, seething at the mouth and obviously trying to break free. Shepard blinked and then let out a guffaw of laughter as she moved to follow Emiya back.

They needed to check up on Cassani and then get moving before someone came to investigate the firefight.


;



At least they had gene mods and hardsuits, Emiya thought as he carried Franco on his shoulders in a fireman carry.

Ahead of him, Shepard was scouting and keeping an eye out. For all her speed and toughness, she couldn't carry their 'wounded' for more than a dozen minutes before she would collapse. It was a simple matter of weight difference and natural physique, with his legs hanging down and getting entangled with everything when she carried him. Even gene therapy couldn't erase that entirely, since the laws were quite strict.

Which meant that it fell on Emiya's shoulders to carry Franco.

"Sorry about this, man."

"It's fine. If I had been taken out, I'd expect you to be carrying me around." Emiya said with a slight smirk, even as he felt his thighs burning. They had been going at a doubled pace for an hour now, just to make sure that they didn't get caught up in any other groups that might come to investigate the firefight.

Emiya took another sip of his water bottle as he exhaled hot air.

Luckily the servos locking down to prevent movement only affected the internals. As such, it wasn't like carrying a frozen human or anything, which would have been a decidedly awkward affair. Instead, so long as Cassani relaxed, Emiya could move his limbs around just fine. This meant that once they got a good position, Cassani could just tense a little and his body would lock into place which made it easier for Emiya to carry him.

Like a weird backpack, with terrible straps and poor balance and very heavy. Still, it was better than having to carry him than if he had been completely stiff. Be grateful for the little things, it'll keep you from going insane.

At this rate, they wouldn't make it to the recall point in time he guessed. He had been planning to skirt the edge of the jungle where the terrain was still traversable without having to cut down a dozen plants and hanging vines with each and every step you took, but with a man down it would not work.

"How about you, any changes?" He asked, looking up again as he continued to walk one step at a time.

"Nah. Still crippled and bleeding out. Got 14 hours in me, still. Apparently, anyhow. My nose itches like a motherfucker, tho." Franco said with a halfhearted grin.

"Well, that's something at least." Emiya allowed. "But this isn't working out."

If they didn't have time constraints, Emiya was certain that he could keep going until his body literally collapsed beneath him. He had done it before and this time he didn't have to worry about being sucked dry by leeches sticking to every limb by the dozen, or about the constant rain beating down on him like that one time.

Franco was lighter, too. Or perhaps that too was just the gene therapy making him stronger. He wondered whether it applied to the immune system as well or whether in the long term he would have to worry about diseases and diarrhea again.

Well, it wouldn't matter right now. This exercise would end before that became a problem. He set down Cassani and recovered his strength by sitting down and breathing deeply until his legs stopped aching. Taking a deep swig of the water bottle, he finished it off till the last drop.

"You can have mine, not too thirsty, what with the excellent service." Franco quipped and Emiya nodded his thanks back. He switched out the bottles attaching his own empty one to Cassani's suit and then giving him a quick sip just in case, to keep him hydrated, before taking another deep mouthful.

It wasn't plain water, either. More akin to a light sports drink, really.

Shepard came back, almost tripping over a thick tree root sticking out from the ground as she did. She seemed to have adapted mostly to the the new terrain, but still seemed hesitant about moving at full speed as always something seemed to entangle or grab at her.

She looked at them, a flash of worry in her eyes as she sat down and took a swig from her own bottle.

"We're gonna have to change our plans a little." Emiya said simply.

"Yeah? Leaving me behind?" Cassani asked with a little bit of false cheer, though the undercurrent of worry was plain to hear.

Maybe Emiya and Shepard would pass with flying colors if they passed him off dead, but that would no doubt sink his grading for the exercise. Though little fault of his own, it would certainly be natural to consider such a conclusion and worry about it.

"Yes." Emiya said, just as Shepard had been about to utter a reassurances. She blinked, turning to look at him with a questioning stare. "We'll acquire a vehicle and pick you up. There's a hill just up ahead that runs next to a road. We can leave you there and keep the comms open; you can act as a watcher while we try to get something working."

Shepard paused, considering that.

"Yeah? Not gonna just leave me behind, are you?" Cassani asked, sounding a bit more hopeful, trying not to make it sound like a whine.

Emiya simply stared back at him blankly. He had hauled too many half-dead men around for real, to care about the peace of mind of this entirely healthy one. It was one thing when saving a man for real, but he could bring himself to care enough about the future prospects of Cassani to do the same here. And he also knew that tiring himself out by trying to force his way forward would just blow up in his face.

Work smarter, not harder.

"If we can't get you, we can't get you." Emiya said finally, shrugging.

"But if we can get you, we'll get you." Shepard continued as she stared at Cassani.

Their 'wounded' stared between them for a few moments, before he affected a shrug as best he could with his 'paralyzed' body.

"Yeah, okay. Works for me."



;



"Alright. Just give me the generals of what you can see and where, I'll consider what it's worth and what it means, so don't worry about it." Emiya said, patting at Cassani's shoulder.

He in turn gave Emiya a flat stare.

"Do I really have to be in a tree?"

"It's safer. No one's gonna look up and you can see further. No problems, right?" Emiya said with a smirk.

"Uh huh, and what if I fall, huh?"

"Well that's simple. Don't." Emiya said as he nodded.

"That's not a—hey!"

Emiya ignored him and jumped down from the tree. Getting him up there was a bit of a chore and had taken some time, but he judged that its benefits exceeded that trouble. With their combined gene therapy and rigorous exercise granted strength, with Emiya pulling from above and Shepard pushing from below, they had managed to get him up there without too much fuss.

Shepard merely stared up at Cassani in the tree and than down at Emiya, with one eyebrow raised. "Really?"

Emiya shrugged with an easy smile. "Let's go, then."

He didn't give Shepard time to answer as he turned to start jogging forward. He could hear her following and he turned up his pace. She must have been surprised as he began to move about in a strange pattern, instead of in a straight line as at times she faltered behind him.

It was natural. In nature there were no straight lines; you had to take the path of least resistance. Of course, seeing where one could easily walk was a skill all of its own, but one he had cultivated to a degree where terrain of this level was reasonably traversable.

Shepard copied his steps, following behind him at her own pace and he matched her so that they did not get separated.

Of course, this way of moving was quite loud, but as it was they needed to regain lost time so it couldn't be helped. In the forest and especially jungles, sound was the largest sign of danger. With trees growing this thickly around them, you couldn't see much past 20 meters, if even that.

Heel-first on hard ground; rolling step. Toes first on soft ground to test it gently. He remembered.

It took a little bit of effort, but soon his gait was the same after all those years. Well, Shepard behind him made his relative silence a moot point, but it was a good habit to keep cultivated nonetheless.

They made it to the road and he crouched down, by a tall tree that gave him plenty of cover on one side. To make the road, trees had been long ago cleared, letting sunlight shine down enough for some plants to grow here at the ground-level. This gave him ample concealment, as the waist-high grass and undergrowth was more than enough to hide a man.

Shepard came to a stop behind him, kneeling just behind him. He leaned forward, low and nearly touching the ground as he allowed his head to break through the grass onto the road. He looked left and right, peering as far as he could.

Reaching out a hand to touch the road, he frowned as he felt the composition and depth of the tracks. It had rained during the night and early morning, and the canopy above wouldn't have dispersed the droplets enough; several cars had passed by here today, judging by the freshness of the tracks.

"Yeah, this will do."

"Huh?" Shepard asked, leaning to look at what he was doing while staying low enough to not break concealment herself.

Emiya leaned back to cover and he looked at Shepard. "Weren't you paying attention? We need a vehicle, right?"

Shepard blinked at him, not at all amused at the grin.

"So we're going to stage an ambush of our own and rob whoever comes driving down this road." Emiya said, feeling entirely too amused by her seriousness.

"And they are simply going to let us—with our plinky little guns—take their military spec car?"

Emiya's grin only widened. The reason crazy schemes like this worked was precisely because they were crazy. "Yeah, after all... We have this."

He reached over his back and pulled out the collapsed sniper rifle. Shepard blinked, the realization clear in her eyes. But then she frowned as she realized the biggest snag in that plan.

"It's ID-locked, though. That asshole seemed pretty sure we wouldn't be able to use it."

"Yeah, which is why I messed with him a little. He was obviously some kind of techie-type, what-with his EMP grenades and stuff." Emiya explained.

"'Techie-type'? Is that some technical term I haven't been introduced to, yet?" She snarked at him, to which he waved his hand as if to dispel her skepticism.

"He seemed pretty focused on a specific part of the gun, right here. I think I can work something out." Emiya grinned.

"Right, so we take one thing and use it to take another... It could work, as long as we can keep the momentum going. If they call for help or manage to keep contact, who knows who will be informed about the car getting jacked though. And they usually have some kind of transponder or signal, too. That's assuming you can get that thing to working, too." She mused, turning thoughtful.

He huffed as he knew he had her on-board already at this point. "Oh, an expert on stealing cars, are we?"

She snapped, turning to look at him straight in the eye with a dead serious look. He merely smirked wider.

"Oh my, naughty naughty." He said with a deliberately playful tone. He had her off-balance, now he needed to hook her in. She licked her lips in a nervous gesture, considering what to say. Should she deny, deny, deny? Play it off? It was obvious he was touching at a part of her past she wasn't very proud of. But before she could say anything, he continued, serious again. "Think you can take care of any trackers? Obvious ones, at least?"

Extend a show of trust, delegate responsibility based on a shared secret. It will build trust without fail.

She blinked at him and then recovered after a second as she realized he was waiting for her answer. He was deliberately looking away from her, as if paying attention to their surroundings. She needed to think her momentary pauses went unnoticed, lest she realized he was playing her. Or rather, he thought of it as a courtesy, allowing her to retain her dignity somewhat.

"Yeah. I can try, at least." She said, with finality.

"Good." Emiya nodded. "Alright, here's the plan. I'll be busy with this thing, so you need to find a few things..."


;



"How about this one? It's nice and thick. Would stop any car dead in its tracks." Shepard asked over the comms as she patted at a tree trunk in the distance.

"No, too big and we'll be cutting off the road for ourselves. It needs to have enough leaves and volume to make them panic as it falls on them, but not so much as to cause real issue. Besides, you're gonna have to cut it with your pistol, so think about how wide the stem is." Emiya replied as he worked.

He had taken a wide plant leaf, easily the size of a spread out newspaper, and begun to dismantle his pistol on top of it alongside the rifle. Technically, it was a terrible idea to mix up small parts like that, but he knew both guns well enough for that not to be a worry.

"Won't they just drive through it, then?"

"Which is why we're doing this here." He pointed at the road for her to see. "The corner means that they'll probably drive into the ditch if they try to keep going through it without seeing the road and if they open fire we have enough concealment to just slip away and try somewhere else or something different."

"Huh. Well, I guess." Shepard shrugged and continued to look.

"Heads up, a building just fucking collapsed in the north of town. Looked like it exploded and then just fell apart." Cassani's voice broke into the comm-line.

Emiya frowned, making note of that and considering whether it was internal demolition or a stray shot or explosive. Difficult to tell, but good to know regardless. "Copy that."

After that, he continued to take apart the two weapons while keeping one eye on the road. Shepard walked around, both left and right alongside the road on either side, straying further and further as she looked for a suitable spot.

As he got to the ammunition block in the sniper rifle, he looked at it curiously. There was some sort of text marked on it, proclaiming 'Dummy phasic rounds II – for field exercise use only!' with large yellow and black letters. He didn't know what that meant, so he shrugged and kept going.

At one point a car came driving by the road and they both scrambled for cover. Some sort of six-wheeled and heavily-reinforced combat vehicle, though it lacked outer guns. As it seemed to be full of hardsuited figures, promising heavy opposition; they wouldn't have ambushed it even if everything was in place. So Emiya and Shepard both remained low and silent, hoping that they would not be picked up.

As radar was beginning to be a problem, Shepard had asked if he had any ideas about hiding from those. Emiya tried out some things, and after some experimentation he found a way.

They had both turned off their suits and omnitools major functions as the car drove past, though the boot up sequence would mean that they would be completely vulnerable if it came down to a firefight. Still, given the difference in numbers, it wouldn't have mattered either way, he reasoned and Shepard had hesitantly agreed as he called it a field test.

He had found that functionality after reading through the hardsuits manual and doing some digging through the manufacturers extranet databases and manuals for various models. The military line was apparently a little bit different, but the basics remained the same.

Of course, given that this essentially meant that their kinetic barriers would not work at all, he was fairly certain he was skirting some rules here. It meant that their suits would not detect any shots—rendering them invulnerable in a sense—and leaving them only to rely on the armor and in-built healing suites—rendering them utterly vulnerable in practice.

Well, the armor would still keep them alive from most shots, so it wasn't all bad.

But seeing as how no one had explicitly denied this function and the rules and regulations available to him did not mention such a scenario, they had simply decided to rather ask for forgiveness than for permission if it became an issue. After all, they hadn't taken off their suits, had they?

As the car drove by them without stopping or slowing down, they both let out a breath of relief.

"Seems like the sensors rely on electromagnetic radiation bleeding from our gear, rather than some sort of life signs..." Emiya muttered to himself. It made some sense, as the sensitivity required for the latter would case such sensors to pick up anything and everything he reasoned. Too much information can be just as bad as too little, quite similarly to what a flashbang did to your eyes.

After that, Shepard seemed to be doubly intent on finding a good tree for their use and another fifteen minutes later she returned to where he was working. Without proper tools, he had to adapt a little; using the edge of a cover as a screwdriver and such-like. Nothing he hadn't had to do before.

"Are you sure about what you're doing? Wouldn't it be better to just use the guns we know we have? I think we could make it work if we stop their car with a big tree. Pick them off from cover." She asked, looming over his shoulder.

"No. The pistols don't have enough power to really work. We need more to even the scales."

"Hmm... Well, if you say so. I found two trees that could work, if I climb up and entangle their tops with some rope or vine, one will pull the other down with it. At an angle they'd fall right on the road, crossing over each other." Shepard said, shrugging.

Emiya looked up with a considering look.

"Sounds good. Do you need any help?"

"Nah, just need to get some vine from back there. Think it will work?" Shepard asked.

"Don't see why not." He shrugged and then turned back to his work.

The basic idea was to hook up his pistol's computer to the sniper rifle's computer, so that it functioned as the basic firing mechanism while overriding the issue of the ID-lock. Of course, he had already figured out three ways of doing it and had been forced to discard two of them.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had ever had this idea and failsafes had been built in. But, he more than anyone else, understood weapons. That, at least if nothing else, he could declare with pride. His life might have been that of an empty sham, someone who only walked down a path he had blindly stumbled upon and never thought to think through. But at least that much was real; he knew weapons.

How they were made; how they functioned both as systems and as tools; how they could be repaired and broken; how they could be made to do whatever you needed.

So, with a little bit of outside-the-box thinking and some crossed wires, a bit of spit and polish and he felt he had something he could work with. He smiled a little, though noting that the pistol hanging from the side of the rifle made it rather cumbersome to carry and aim in any position other than the prone.

But that was fine; he could take some distance and pick them off at a range. It was a sniper rifle, after all.

"Now, just to test this out..." He said, dialing the power manually to a minimum to keep the sound as low as possible. He aimed at a tree in the distance, standing against a hill. The odds of hitting anyone would be astronomical with that, and with the thick growth of trees and plants around him the sound would be relatively muffled.

His heartbeat slightly rose, as his finger found the trigger. The moment of truth.

He pulled—boom!

Emiya grinned, laughing lightly as he admired the gun and noting the recoil and line of fire. With his pistols computer as the go-between, the auto-aim function could not be used, as the pistols auto-aim was not calibrated for the sniper rifles. Thus, it could only use the simple 'eyeballing' aiming mode.

But that was fine, he could handle it. He had plenty of experience with 'dumb weapons' after all. But then he realized the problem.

"Damn." He cursed softly. The tree he had shot had been gouged through by his sniper rifle. The safety program doesn't work; it's working at full power!

He couldn't use this, not in the exercise at least. It would kill someone if it pierced their kinetic barriers.

"What was that?" Shepard asked over the comms, distracting Emiya from his frustrations.

"Got it working, but ran into another issue. Any problems on your end?"

"Huh? Really...? Uh, no. Fine here. Pretty much done. Had to be careful with the second tree, had to shoot out enough to make it fall with the other but leave enough to keep it steady until then."

"Good. We'll hammer out the plan, so get back when you can, Out." Emiya responded and then turned back to his cobbled together sniper rifle. "Damn. Hadn't thought of that."

He disassembled it and reassembled his pistol and tried it out, noting that the firmware was still in effect, which was something of a relief at least. Soon enough, Shepard returned and sat down next to him, watching as he continued to try and figure it out.

"You really like guns, huh..." She said, causing Emiya to completely pause and look up at her blankly.

"What?"

"I mean, you always seem like you're having fun when you're messing around with them." She said, giving him a half-smile.

"No, I just—we need this thing to work, so..." He denied weakly, before trailing off as he frowned at himself.

Shepard merely looked at him curiously, as if analyzing a strange animal. He shook his head, turning back to the rifle. It worked just fine. Too fine, in fact. He sighed again, crossing his arms.

"So what's the problem?"

Emiya looked up again, still frowning.

"It's a matter of the firmware. The basic system still works, but it's different between the two guns, so the adjustments like auto-aim and the power adjustment don't work. The mass effect calculations and firing block shaver work alright, which means it works. But since the capacitors and rails are bigger the power scales up accordingly."

"...So if you wanted to shoot through a car engine, it would be fine, but shoot at a guy and he'll get killed? Assuming you could even hit them."

"Pretty much. And I could. The problem lies in the software, which would require hacking. But I don't have any clues about how to go about that, especially since I would have to hack through the Systems Alliance's firewalls..." Emiya nodded.

They sat there in silence, as Emiya continued to stare at the guns with growing annoyance.

"So are you going to apply for some Infiltrator-related line? You seem pretty good at all this." She said, nodding at the guns and at the forest around them.

Emiya blinked again, his line-of-thought about trying to re-calibrate the entire system from the ground up after frying some of the internal sensors getting cut short.

"Well... Something like that." He admitted. General engineering did technically allow one to apply for Infiltrator training, but the parallels were so minor you would have to re-train yourself pretty much from the ground up anyhow. He was simply going to Mars, nothing else.

"You always seem so sure of yourself. I'm still not sure what I want. About anything, really." Shepard admitted quietly, looking at the ground. "I mean, I'm only good with a gun when I'm running around without enough time to think too much.

"And the only line that's not just the bottom-of-the-barrel grunt marines that has that is the N-line Soldier, and I don't have the grades to get there." She sighed. "Well, maybe it would be fine to just spend a few years on some spaceship until I'm done with the enlistment contract, but I don't think I would really get anything out of it."

Emiya looked at her, hesitating for a moment at what to say.

He wanted to tell himself that he had nothing to say on the matter, yet somewhere in his gut an opinion seemed to be clawing its way out, nonetheless.

"N-line Soldier, huh?" He considered it. She had the right attitude; she would have fit right in with some of the special forces guys he had run into in his life. That bordering-on-sociopathic mania when in the thick of things; the wicked grin she would sport while bullets flew all around her and she had a gun in her hand.

"Y-yeah... It was a silly id—"

"I think you would do great." He said giving his real assessment, going back to putting back together the sniper rifle with the pistol attached. He had something of an idea, that might just work.

"Really?" She asked, looking at him slightly astonished.

He nodded, not bothering to look up. She would either believe him or she wouldn't; it wasn't his job to convince her.

Neither said anything after that for several minutes, until Emiya had the botched-together sniper rifle ready again.

"Emiya, can I ask you for a favor? A really big one."

"Hmm?" He looked up at her. She seemed serious. Resolved, even. That was good, he thought. For some reason.

"I don't have good enough grades to get into the N-line. My written tests went kinda... You know. But if I did really well here... Now, if I—we did a lot of side objectives, I think I might be able to qualify for the N-line directly."

Emiya considered her words.

"Let's get the car first and we'll see what we can do."

She smiled at him, clenching her fist as she nodded. "You got it."

He made a sound of amusement and then took a deep breath.

"But first, let's see if I can make this work."

She blinked. "You got it fixed?"

"Nope. But I'm gonna call tech support and see what they have to say about it." He answered with a smirk.

;


The next few chapters will be pretty different from the first few chapters. Rather than weeks and months passing between scenes, I've written out a rather detailed and close look on a single day(almost in the vein of say "Maybe I'm a Lion", which I rather like). I started out writing like this in my first fic, too.
If it feels like a chore or a slug to read through, do drop a word about it. This sequence of events is mostly already written so it won't be changing much, but I'll take it under consideration later on.
Though I do like these kinds of parts, personally.

Edit: Special thanks to PseudoSteak of ffnet and Tisaku here for proofreading.
 
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Chapter 6: Aggressive Hitchhiking for fun & profit

Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
Something of a side-note about Emiya using guns, on ffnet. I've gotten a few comments about Emiya not being experienced with guns, which is not exactly true. In Fate/Extra you'll see him with a scoped rifle and in CCC he'll decorate the My Room wall with numerous guns(both relatively mundane and somewhat fantastic; that sword revolver looks rather strange!) and he even has a slightly nerdy moment with Hakuno where he starts talking about handguns and how cool they are, before backtracking and saying that he doesn't particularly like them or anything.

So yeah, he's good with guns, it's not just been translated into English yet :V



;


Emiya pressed the haptic interface button on his omnitool; the call immediately dialing.

They had pulled back from the road, as during the duration of the conversation over the comms it would be impossible to shut down their suits to avoid detection if someone came passing by. Or rather, it would cut short the communication which would be bad, as he only had one shot at this.

"Gunnery Chief Thomas speaking."

"Serviceman Emiya calling."

"Alright, what is it? Keep it short, serviceman, we're busy here." The voice at the other end of the comms said.

Shepard kept looking at Emiya with intent eyes, listening in to the conversation while holding so quiet that she was almost stopped breathing.

"Sir, I have a bit of problem with a gun. The safety software doesn't seem to be working properly, so I don't think I can use it, sir." Emiya explained.

"Hmm? The safeties are off? Are you sure the gun still works? Gun malfunction as a result of a failed hack is still a part of the simulation." Thomas answered, seeming to grow more interested in the conversation. A faulty gun could cause personnel injuries if left un-attended, after all.

"Yes, sir. It fires just fine, but the velocities exceed the norm."

"That shouldn't be possible. Outside of very specific weapons platforms, the hard cap on velocity should not be possible to remove. What weapon are we talking about here?" The skepticism was clear in his voice now.

"It's a sniper rifle, sir." Emiya said.

The comm went silent. Shepard looked alarmed at Emiya, as after five seconds still no response could be heard.

"Yeah, about that, Serviceman Emiya, you grunts don't have access to that weapons platform; you don't even have the training for it. Your waste of my time has been noted and you will be called in for a disciplinary hearing following this—"—boom!

Emiya pulled the trigger.

The silence on the other end of the comm was almost deafening and Emiya had to hold back a smirk.

"Sorry, sir. My finger slipped."

"...Hold up, let me pull up your camera feed..." Thomas said and there was another moment of silence. "—Serviceman... newest batch, pistol and light hardsuit training, no hacking training or software..."

Emiya could barely hear the Gunnery Chief muttering on the other end, as Thomas must have been going through his records. Emiya looked down at the frankenstein of a cobbled-together sniper rifle, waiting for the other end to finish whatever they were doing.

It didn't take long.

"...Holy mother of god, what the fuck am I looking at?"

"Ah, well. We took out a sniper and took his gun. Figured we could use it since our pistols were proving a bit anemic. But as it turns out, the firmware update didn't carry over so it's a bit too—shall we say—vigorous for our purposes." Emiya said, holding back all the smugness that he could. It was barely enough, as there was a certain enjoyment to be had in all this. Beside him, Shepard was grinning from ear to ear.

"Don't... Don't move. Don't hang up. Don't do anything. I need to get a superior officer for this..."

The voice broke off and Emiya then had to smirk. Beside him, Shepard had less success in holding back her mirth as her shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. A few minutes passed by and Shepard received another update on the happenings in town from Cassani, who remained wholly unaware of what they were doing.

Finally, after ten minutes had passed a new voice came through. A much darker and more somber voice, speaking of years of experience in command.

"This is Major Maeda, what's the problem?"

"Sir, we have acquired a sniper rifle and it's safeties are off, rendering it too dangerous to use. I am requesting some assistance with this; turning off the ID-lock would allow me to use the gun normally." Emiya explained.

"Denied. This was explained to you before; stolen hostile weapons platforms must be hacked using the outlined guidelines; failing that you have ruined the weapon according to the simulation—

"Sir, they've physically bypassed the ID-lock using another gun—" Thomas' voice interjected.

"Which was also outlined in the guidelines under the section Physical Interference. Physically tampering with Alliance Navy equipment is grounds for a disciplinary hearing. That the safeties are off is exactly why these things were taken off the table; playing cowboy with the rules like this gets soldiers killed." Maeda was having none of it.

"Yes, I know that, sir. But—

"But what?

"Sir, they're recruits. E6, the entire team. They haven't been told any of this; they don't even have hacking utilities or the clearance to carry sniper rifles." Thomas explained. That seemed to bring the Major up short, as the comm went silent. "Moreover, the Navy techs have been working on this stuff for decades. The guns should be physically hack-proof with the stuff they have. They've found some loophole or exploit we've completely managed to miss, sir."

Another moment of silence.

"Hmm. I see. Well then, have him called in after the exercise for a briefing. Well done, serviceman, the Alliance is always willing to reward those who help it improve its cybersecurity. Now, if there's nothing else..."

"Actually, I would still like for the ID-lock on the gun to be taken off." Emiya said, before the Major could get off the line.

"Excuse me?" He actually sounded confused, as Emiya had expected. The flipside to the ordered nature of militaries was that often times officers did not come into contact with people who did not follow the exacting rules and protocols that had been set down.

It was the job of the NCOs—the non-commissioned officers who handled the day-to-day business—usually to act as the immediate enforcers, keeping the 'dumb grunts' in line. This meant that they acted as a sort of filter, allowing the officers to retain much of the authority they had without fear of familiarity breeding contempt.

But it also meant that they did not always have the full range of experience necessary to handle an uppity serviceman.

"Well, given that this is a simulation, and I have successfully acquired and re-purposed a weapon used by the opposing force snipers, I believe I should be granted the use of the normal simulated firing operations of this rifle. The only reason it is unusable is because my methods were unexpected and new, which should not be grounds for punishing me." Emiya said.

"And how would denying you this be a punishment? I believe in not already having you sent before a disciplinary hearing that I am being quite lenient on you."

Emiya smirked; an NCO would have simply slapped him down here for speaking out of turn. But this Major at the same time held a respect for his men as well as an unfamiliarity with how to deal with a case such as this.

It gave him the in he needed.

"Sir, the use of physical interference was never explicitly forbidden to us and there is explicitly a side objective listed as appropriating enemy personnel weapons for your own use and study. I have acted exactly as instructed and have the vid feeds to back it up. Certainly, the side objective says to 'hack an enemy weapon successfully', but given that neither 'hacking' nor 'physical interference' has ever been clearly defined for us and that I have successfully managed to appropriate an enemy's weapon, I do believe that I have done no wrong. Any and all wrongdoing is therefore on the parts of those one step above me on the pecking order, for not fully explaining the rules of engagement properly to me.

"Moreover, I have wasted over an hour on this rifle. Time during which we could have been moving towards our RV point for extraction. We have set up an ambush alongside a road to commandeer a vehicle for transportation of a wounded teammate. If we are denied this weapon, the ambush will not only not work but will also have wasted my time, which seems hardly reasonable since I have already demonstrated that I have managed to make it function for me."

Emiya stopped speaking, holding his fingers crossed and Shepard stared intently at the glowing omnitool through which the discussion was being had. A long pregnant silence followed, finally broken by a sigh at the other end.

What had gone unsaid, but both understood implicitly, was that no one explained any of that to first-timers because they were simply supposed to be running around like headless chickens for other people to hunt down.

"Thomas, what do you think?" Maeda asked, the sound of his voice lower as he had apparently turned away from the receiver.

"Sir... I do think it would set a poor precedence for them if we denied their creativity and initiative. Leave a poor aftertaste, for all their hard work, and all that... Sir." Thomas answered in the background. Emiya let out a sigh of relief, as delegating the task of deciding to the Chief could have caused this ploy to backfire massively on Emiya.

"Very well. For the duration of this exercise the use of the Avenger II long-distance rifle will be granted to their team. But given that they lack the training for it, they will require constant oversight. Chief Thomas, given your involvement you will be held responsible for their actions and thus your are re-assigned to keep an eye on them for the rest of the duration of this exercise. I expect you to step in and pull the plug if it is necessary. Understood?" Major Maeda spoke, a tone of finality clear in his voice.

"Yes, sir!" Thomas answered vigorously, the salute almost audible through the comms.

"Yes!" Shepard whispered, fist-pumping with a grin.

The sounds at the other end of the line scrambled, hinting at the Major leaving.

"Well, then. Serviceman Emiya, get your gun back in order and once I have confirmed that it is functional again, you will be granted user access to that weapon." Thomas spoke a few seconds later. "Oh, I will also be henceforth monitoring your activities; don't worry, it's normally just done afterwards when your instructors review your footage, so it's not anything to worry about."

"Yes, sir. I'll get right to it." Emiya said, unable to hold the smirk off of his face. He turned to Shepard who was giving him the thumbs up with a wide smile. He returned her gesture, still smirking. "Alright. Shepard, go fetch Franco while I get these things back in two pieces."

"Gotcha, I'll be back in half an hour." She said, jumping up to her feet and running off. After thirty seconds, she was completely gone as even the sounds of her running were too muffled to be heard through the general cacophony in the distance and the foliage between them.

He unplugged the pistol from his rifle and began to re-assemble the guns back into their original shape and form, while narrating what he was doing for Thomas' and the recordings benefit.

"Christ, how did a fresh recruit like you figure out all this..." Thomas' voice whispered through the comms as Emiya's hands moved rapidly through the parts. Lacking proper tools, he had to use other parts as screwdrivers and his hands like pliers, which forced him to do it in a slightly different order than normally.

It was possible to put that piece back after the other one, even though it made more sense to do it the other way, for example. But doing it like that allowed him to use it first as a shimmy for another part, and so forth...

"Hmm, the comms are still on, sir." Emiya spoke, respectfully. Now that he had someone breathing down his neck in real time, he would have to be extra careful.

If the recordings had been watched afterwards and Emiya had done something out of the ordinary, he would have had plenty of time to figure out and excuse before someone noticed. But now, he might be called in to explain his actions seconds after the fact, which left much less time for inventing plausible explanations.

He was lucky that he had actually been curious about all the things that were required for this little field-adjustment he had performed. There was an extranet trail showing that he had researched and studied all of these things in detail, making it only implausible rather than outright impossible or improbable for him to have figured it out.

"Don't worry about it, serviceman. Just looking here; mind telling me how you figured it out? It would simplify explaining it up the chain of command for me later." Thomas said, chuckling. "I mean, normally we don't get recruits running around with Avengers."

"Well, after I was issued the pistol, I simply read the manual that they gave us access to on our omnitools, sir." Emiya said. It was what he had done, actually. As the pistol had been entirely void of previous history, he had had to actually read the manual to get the full picture.

While slower, it did its job as it was damn well supposed to. So he had learned quite a bit about the pistol and mass effect technology in general after his second and third readthroughs. It helped that standard for manuals was quite high, and that it had been written in language simple enough for even the dumbest recruit to understand the basics.

He had gone beyond the mere basics in his analysis, of course. Weapons were something of a hobby and a point of pride to him and he made sure to understand them. But technically the manual was enough for his explanation.

"After that, I just looked up each part on the extranet and reasoned out how all the parts work from the manufacturers' specs. It wasn't really hard to then compare it to the sniper rifle, since the basics are the same." Emiya said with a shrug, even though he wasn't sure if Thomas could see it.

"Hah, well, the Infiltrators and Engineers will have a field day with this. For once, someone actually read the fucking manual and it ends up being a completely new exploit no one's ever noticed before."

Emiya winced.

He hadn't intended to leave any marks of himself in history or on other people like this, but what was done, was done. To be fair, to him it had seemed a rather simple and easily noticeable exploit in the weapon's design. Even if he had had to go through two simpler versions of it, which had been apparently found before, to get to this point.

Then again, he had a unique way of looking at weapons.

"Alright. It's done." Emiya said, holding up the pistol in one hand and the rifle in the other.

"Good. Now, I'll disable both, so point them at the ground away from you and pull the trigger on both. First the pistol; we're just testing to make sure. At this point if something goes wrong, we're both screwed, you know. Well, more you than me. I'll just have a mountain of paperwork. Actually, less than if you do succeed. Huh..."

"Aye, aye, sir." Emiya said, ignoring the chief's rambling.

Emiya aimed the pistol at the ground fifteen meters away and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Good, everything green. Enabling pistol, safeties on and working. Next the rifle."

Emiya holstered the pistol by his hip; the gun collapsing into a smaller form and attaching itself to the Van der Waals-strip. He raised the sniper rifle, took aim and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, again.

"Heh, everything green. Congrats, you've got yourself an Avenger II now. I think that's a first, too. Okay, so I'm shutting this line now and I won't be in contact unless something strange happens. If anything is about to go horribly wrong, I'll step in so just act as you would normally."

"Understood." Emiya replied and collapsed the rifle and threw it over his shoulder onto the Van der Waals-strip there.

Now then, time to finalize the ambush and steal a ride.



;


Emiya prowled around, checking and re-checking the location they had chosen for their ambush. The road that went through the jungle was one that offered enough of a detour and concealment from the city, that he had reasoned that some would seek to use it for fear of getting stuck inside the narrow alleyways or crumbled streets.

And in that regard, he had been proven right. Already four different vehicles has passed by since he and Shepard had originally come here.

The road was quite narrow and had plenty of craters and holes, as the heavy rains often bombarded and played havoc on the surface of the packed dirt from above at the same time as plants tried to invade and grow on the open space, their roots pushing through from beneath.

From the sides, plants and undergrowth hung over the road as tall trees formed a wall that made the road almost look like an underground tunnel. Above, a dim line of light ran along the road as on the sides the canopy was thick enough that no direct sunlight could break through.

Emiya inspected the road, specifically the small turn that they had chosen.

He eyed both ways and looked around, noting his surroundings as he waited for Shepard to return. He climbed up the tree Shepard had chosen and checked that the top of the tree was sufficiently entangled with its counterpart on the other side of the road that once one fell the other would follow.

Then he simply moved around, noting details here and there in preparation.

If it came to a fight, knowing where every root and every hole lay could make for the difference between catastrophic failure and resounding success. If he had had some more time and this was a real ambush, he would have dug shallow pits and built rudimentary traps to further restrain passengers of the car at the point where it would be stopped.

But this would have to do.

He then walked up and down the side of the road, fifty meters to both directions of the spot where the trees would fall down on the road. With the sniper rifle, they now had more options, but it also had certain limitations which required careful consideration.

With the low rate of fire, he would need to be at a sufficient distance from the ambush spot so that he could exert pressure on them without having to worry about retaliation, but not so far away that the turn in the road left him blind. For example, lying prone with the sniper rifle, his accuracy would rise up considerably, but it would make it more difficult for him to make adjustments to his aim.

If he was so close that his targets could run over 10 degrees to the side, he would be forced to lift up and re-position the rifle or change his shooting stance.

The further away he was, the longer the distance needed to cover those 10 degrees became, thus giving him more room to work with. The road also worked as a perfect funnel in that regard, giving him a clear line of fire and slowing down anyone trying to flank him if they did manage to get to the concealment and cover of the jungle.

There was also the matter of the range calculations he had previously thought about. A little bit of experimenting revealed that if he switched between aiming at a nearby target and something far off in the distance, the trigger would disengage for a second. But at the distances he would be planning to operate, it would not be a problem. Switching between 10 meters and a 100 meters for example took less than 0.1 seconds for the computer to adjust, which should be fine.

He also had to consider their suits giving them away and how to handle it. Mostly it became a matter of timing. When to turn off and when to turn on; how long it would take and where they should be to avoid lines of fire.

The plan was fairly simple.

He would take position down the road, far enough away that he could use the rifle from concealment. Shepard would hide behind one of the trees by the ambush spot, ready to use her pistol to shoot through the stem of the tree to cause it to fall over and pull the other tree with it, which had also been weakened sufficiently to not resist overmuch.

This part was rather delicate, as even under controlled circumstances getting a tree to fall the way you wanted was always tricky business. This is where the two trees being bound together would help, as they were already leaning into the direction they would be falling towards and would not be able to deviate too much since they would be falling as one.

Emiya had experience with these kinds of traps before; mostly when he simply wanted to deny passage or to repel enemies, as he rarely created or utilized lethal measures. Too indiscriminate for his ends. He checked and double-checked the trees, marking the location that was necessary for the controlled fall for Shepard later.

It seemed to work.

Once the tree-trap was sprung, Shepard would stay down and wait for an opening to act. Since given her close position to the road she would be vulnerable to detection by sensors, which meant some extra care in planning would have to be taken. This would necessitate her kinetic barriers being turned off and her hardsuit and omnitool being in low power mode, which meant she could not be anywhere near the fighting before she turned on her own gear.

Once Emiya opened fire, she would then at a suitable moment spring out and open fire on the ambushed party's open flank as their attention was glued to him. This would allow her to inflict disproportionate amounts of damage, which would allow them to tip the scales of the confrontation.

Finally, Cassani would be placed to hide some ways to the opposite direction of himself, on the other side of Shepard.

Since he was "wounded", he would simply be working as another pair of eyes for them in hiding. Emiya could look out ahead on the road on his side, as could Cassani, while also during the ambush he would be able to look at them from behind and give away positions and maneuvers.

Once Emiya was certain that he had the whole thing planned out, he hunkered down to wait. A while later, Shepard returned. She looked around, not entirely certain if this was the place, as a lot of the jungle looked exactly the same even once you got to know it. She had hardly gotten used to walking through it.

"Here." Emiya said, standing up behind her.

"Whoa! What the hell, don't do that." Shepard jumped a foot in the air, pulling her pistol and dropping Cassani as she wheeled around to look at Emiya.

"Ow. Yeah. Less of this, please." Cassani complained from the ground, spitting at a plant that was sticking into his nose.

Emiya merely smirked and shrugged.

"I tested around a little with the suit some more. I think I've figured out the optimal way of hiding. The boot up takes just 5 seconds, this way." Emiya explained and Shepard blinked, realizing that she hadn't spotted him in her radar despite the relatively short distance between them.

Her toothy grin all but demanded that he show her.



;


The plan was set, he had explained all of their roles and set them up into their respective positions.

Now all that was left was to simply do it.

Emiya inhaled slowly, his ears straining to listen for any unusual sounds above the normal cacophony of the wild-life around them and the fighting in the distance. There had been a peak in conflict half an hour ago but it had died down now, Emiya judged.

There must have been a concentrated effort on the city front by one or more factions.

Still, no cars.

He lay to the side of the road, almost in the ditch as he held onto the collapsed rifle. I hear something.

He tensed slightly, raising his head up until he could see Shepard in her hiding place. They had agreed to minimize comm use, as there would be no way to communicate once they went cold. And there was also no way for them to know whether those could be hacked or monitored, either. That was also the reason why he had avoided explaining anything over the comms, whenever possible.

Opsec starts with the smallest things.

He raised a hand and Shepard nodded in the distance. That was the agreed-upon signal for someone coming down the road from Emiya's way. Since Shepard couldn't look at Cassani while looking at Emiya, Cassani's signal was a loud whistle; the only thing their 'wounded' was capable of doing at the moment, really.

Emiya moved around, careful to avoid disturbing the plants around him as he turned to look down the road. He needed eyes on the vehicle to make a judgment call on whether or not it was a suitable target. It approached; definitely coming down this way.

He raised his hand again; the second signal, signifying to go cold.

Emiya waited until Shepard's presence on his radar disappeared before he turned off his own suit and rolling into the thicket to hide from sight.

The vehicle approached; another six-wheeled car, again without any external guns. But this one had less armor and as he peered he could see inside of it through the windshield. It had at least six seated people, counting the driver as well.

A light Armored Personnel Carrier. Not perfect odds, or even good ones really, but I'll take what I can get. It's already 15:00, we can't waste much more time.

Emiya pushed with his heel against the tree behind him lightly, shaking just it enough for the topmost leaves to just move around. The third agreed-upon signal; this one green-lighting the ambush. He had just enough time to see Shepard's back, before he heard the first muffled report of the pistol.

Someone in the car seemed to notice the sound, but it was too late.

Five pistol shots punched through the already gouged tree's stem and it began to creak, the sounds so muffled that Emiya barely heard them. The timing was a little off, but it was only a bit too early which was still within acceptable limits. The car came driving down the road at a sedate pace, jumping up and down as it rolled over the numerous potholes and bumps dotting the surface.

The trees began to fall, almost agonizingly slowly and the driver apparently noticed as he began to slow down further. But the APC did not stop, Emiya noted as it went past Shepard's hiding spot. He turned around slowly and carefully, still hiding and avoiding looking out too much as he slowly got into position to be able to fire.

The sniper rifle extended and he raised the scope to take a closer look, his finger still off the trigger.

Those in the car must have already suspected something, as trees rarely fall on their own like this. Two of them at the same time, even less commonly. Emiya had a poor shot at the occupants, he noted as he looked through the scope. The chassis was quite thick and angled to deflect rounds coming in parallel with the ground. Moreover, they must have a kinetic barrier as well, he reasoned.

He refrained from acting; patience was key right now.

With a vehicle like that it would be entirely possible to drive over the trees, Emiya reasoned. He exhaled, lifting the rifle and rolling half-out onto the road and setting up his shot in the prone position. The scope came up into his vision again and this time his finger found the trigger, his breathing seeming to slow down so much it almost stilled completely as he began to line his shot.

Emiya's heartbeat began to slow down as he stilled. Now he could only wait.

He eyed the back of the car; the wheels and the roof. He only had one definite shot; the wheels. But if he shot too many and immobilized the car, repairs would slow them down later, and if he shot only one they might just drive off anyhow with their five intact wheels carrying the brunt.

Additionally, he needed to incapacitate the APC with the first shot. If it had strong kinetic barriers, then they could simply drive off the moment they detected danger, while their shields still held.

The car slowed down, though it did not come to a complete halt quite yet. Emiya strained and he could hear some kind of argument from within the car. Someone probably suggested driving over the trees, but someone else was objecting, he guessed from the fragments he could hear.

Emiya waited, not quite lining up a shot yet as he kept his scope at the smallest possible zoom to give him an overview of the car. He was only observing for now, noting the behavior of those inside.

For a car that size, generating a kinetic barrier must be a massive drain. Of course the eezo core could be proportionally much larger than the one in their suits, but this was a lightly armored vehicle anyhow. It would have greater power demands as well.

It would not be able to take a single powerful round from anything Emiya would have aimed at armored vehicles, like tanks. No, this was a faster mode of transport, meant to avoid direct combat and to allow a small team to move around and behind enemy lines. He assumed it fit the role of a lighter vehicle, not meant for frontline combat. It would only have the bare minimum when it came to defense, he wagered. Just enough for small arms fire not to punch through and put the personnel inside in danger.

Just as no one had during his era tried to fit 20mm of steel plating onto a simple pick-up truck or land rover, it would have also made no reason to invest in a powerful kinetic barrier on such a light and nimble looking vehicle. Therefore it should only be just as big as it needed to be. The kinetic barrier would not extend much beyond the surface, if even that since the car did not need to move in ways a human did.

Perhaps it would adjust to something extending past the outer chassis' limits, but perhaps...

Emiya moved his scope to the driver's side, at window height.

Nothing happened, as everyone sat waiting.

Those inside the car had readied their weapons and tools, scanning their surroundings for the ambush that should have already begun. Emiya lay still as a rock, observing the car, hidden beneath the overhanging undergrowth from the side of the road. Shepard was hiding behind the trees, down low to the ground, waiting until something happened for her to safely be able to begin looking for a chance to insert herself.

But nothing happened. Those in the car must have been anxious; their nerves strained. No one jumped out, no one threw a grenade at them. No more trees fell down to box them in. Nothing.

It must have confused the people in the car as they seemed to relax a little. They must have had reliable radars which were currently reporting nothing at all around them. After all, the only active kinetic shields within a kilometer radius of this location were their own.

And no one would be so cocky or dumb as to turn off their shields, right? Once again, Emiya considered how much trouble he might be in for playing around with his hardsuit, but seeing as how Chief Thomas hadn't said anything...

Well, it wasn't a problem for right now. Emiya looked through the scope, observing their body language with the half of his scope that wasn't aimed right at the driver's window. He could tell they were relaxing. They looked around and checked their gear, but there was no danger.

But that was wrong. The most dangerous moment is not when you are your most tense, but when you relax just after you think the danger has passed.

C'mon, be stupid. You're driving a 15 ton armored personnel carrier. You already made three mistakes and you're flustered and confused. But you're invincible inside that thing and you know it, be an overconfident dumbass...

And just then, the driver did something incredibly stupid.

He leaned out of the car to look out through the side-window to get a better look. It would have been less than a one second glance at the trees on the road to judge whether they could be driven over, but Emiya had had his scope aimed there already. After all, the only shot that could swing things in their favor would be the one that utterly incapacitated the APC.

He aimed at just the top of the head; as far away from the car; as far away from where he expected it's kinetic barriers to be.

Exhale; respiratory pause; pull—boom!

The head almost jerked forward with the shot, but then went utterly still as the suit simulation pronounced him instantly dead from the perfect headshot. Emiya inhaled, powering on his suit and waiting for the rifle to cool down.

Got the driver. They'll want to leave as quickly as possible; but their radar will only show the one shooter; me. They'll hesitate between counter-ambush doctrine stating to make an immediate break away, or to vigorously counter-attack the lone sniper who just took out their driver. I want them angry and wanting revenge, then.

Emiya lowered the cross-sights, aiming at the rear tire. He angled it such that it would only pop the rearmost one, without hitting the metal rim or the axles. He chose the left side of the car; away from Shepard.

Pull—boom!

A kinetic barrier flashed, but then fizzled out as the sniper rifle's round popped off of the tire gently. Emiya hesitated for a moment, at how easily the kinetic barrier had broken; he had honestly expected more even though he had expected the barriers to be weak.

Well, not that he was complaining.

Pull—boom!

The tire exploded in a cloud of black rubber and dust. The car dropped a little, as the tire that had been bearing weight at the moment deflated with a loud pop. Gravel and sand was pushed up in a small cloud as pieces of rubber landed everywhere.

Inside the car, the passengers' jerked around to stare at the direction of the shot; they had pulled the driver back in as they had just now realized they were in fact under attack and were scrambling to do something. I have their attention. But it wasn't enough; he needed them off balance.

This far none of them quite felt the pressure yet, he needed to do more.

Something dramatic enough to get the passengers' attention, he thought as he inhaled again. Shepard still remained cold, waiting for her opening. The car doors—massive steel slabs that would have been decent protection against even full power mass accelerator rounds—were still firmly shut, with all but the driver's window closed. She wouldn't be able to do a thing until the people in the car came willingly out.

He looked at the shape of the car, considering acoustics as he had an idea.

Even a direct hit will be fine, but the sound it will make inside the car will be quite loud, won't it? Emiya thought, this time aiming at the rear window of the car.

Pull—boom!

Those in the car reeled around again, noticing the impact behind them. The rear-window, a small thing on the large reinforced slab of a door, cracked with a spider-web of threads extending all the way to the corners. Emiya was rather surprised at that; he had expected more of a car's kinetic barriers. Another shot and he would punch through; the full power rifle would have already done so with the first. Someone inside the car shouted, apparently having had enough of doing nothing even as the one in the front passenger seat was trying to get into the driver's seat to allow them to drive away.

The rear left-side passenger door opened and a man jumped out, pulling a rifle off of his back and jumping into the undergrowth for concealment as he went prone. A rapid surge of suppressing fire answered Emiya's earlier taunting shots, forcing him to roll off the road and into the jungle. He collapsed the rifle and quickly crawled for cover as he could hear the two other doors opening and men jumping out to fire at him.

They still hadn't noticed Shepard or Cassani, that was good. And his suit power was finally on at full power, so he wouldn't be dead the moment a bullet hit him, which was always a good thing.

Emiya got up, opening the rifle again as he went to one knee and took aim again. He was half-behind a large tree, taking support from it for both cover and physical support for the sniper rifle. Several bullets hit the tree, gouging out pieces of cellulose and splattering sap everywhere. He could smell the sweet scent in the air, somehow refreshing him as he took aim and lined up his shot.

Pull—boom!

Another shot, this time on the right shoulder of a soldier, causing him to stiffen up and then fall over. His legs still kicked, pushing him forward to the cover of the car, so the shot must not have been deemed instantly lethal.

Emiya could have hit head on, but had deliberately not corrected his aim as he could have, allowing the slight margin of error to be corrected by the auto-aim to a simple shoulder hit. Just good enough of a shot to work, but not so much so as to raise eyebrows. Well, not too many eyebrows and not too much. It wasn't that he was intentionally failing, rather that he was simply half-assing it and not taking the effort to correct his aim at the last second.

Besides, with the sniper rifles rate of fire he would be overwhelmed if all of them rushed him at once. Wounding one would distract the others, causing hesitation and one or more of them to rush to aid the wounded rather than continue to concentrate on offense.

It would buy him more time, in other words.

One of the men turned around to go help the wounded one, leaving now only two shooting at Emiya; one still hiding prone in the undergrowth and another kneeling behind the car's armored frame.

"Two guys taking cover in front of the car. One looks wounded. The other is patching him up, I think." Cassani chimed in from his location, far away from the thick of things.

Emiya leaned back and took cover as an object was thrown his way.

He pushed forward and ran five steps before leaping for cover again as something loud went off behind him. Presumably another grenade of some kind, but it had not affected him.

He turned around and took another shot—boom, kicking off dirt near the kneeling shooter's feet. He took cover again, letting the rifle cool down. Okay, enough missing. They're spread out enough for now.

The last man—no, a woman, stepped out of the car and Emiya took aim and at the sight of a completely open target and pulled—boom!

But this time, the expected result did not occur.

Instead of reeling at the impact or being frozen in place, a purple field of some kind flared up around her, bending light strangely and making her seem hazy and ethereal.

She tanked it? Emiya thought with surprise, collapsing the rifle as he moved to change cover again.

Only, before he could reach the tree some kind of floating blue orb came barreling between two trees, hitting him with the force of a fastball. He raised his arms reflexively for protection as he jumped back to minimize the impact, but what happened next was completely out of his expectations.

He jumped back ten meters.

Or rather, the force had been traveling with made him float backwards, as if he were almost completely weightless despite gravity. He kicked out, struggling to get purchase somewhere— anywhere—as he helplessly floated in the air. At least they didn't have a clear line of sight to him, which meant he was safe for the moment.

Biotics! He had completely forgotten, given how rare they were among humans. But here and now, floating in the air and completely helpless, he realized that that had been a huge mistake.

His mind re-asserted itself as he kicked out to get himself some bearing; the extended limb moving causing his body turn in the air. He had never fought in zero-G, but he had fought underwater. He reasoned it was similar to the time he had been caught and tossed around by underwater currents, completely losing his sense of direction and control.

Calm down and get a hold of something!

Emiya pulled his pistol and aimed at a tree and fired twelve shots in the space of two seconds; giving him just enough of a push to float close enough to a branch as he collapsed and holstered the overheated pistol. He grabbed the branch, swinging to position his legs on top of it so that he could remain there if the weightless state was canceled but also allowing him to kick off if need be.

He looked up. The biotic woman and the formerly-kneeling-behind-the-car man were jogging towards him; he couldn't stay here.

Emiya held tight onto the branch as he tensed his legs and then with all his strength, kicked off upwards. He aimed the rifle straight down and pulled the trigger—boom!, giving a slight boost to his upwards velocity with the recoil and allowing him to pass through the opening in the forest canopy above.

He blinked as the bright light of the un-blocked sun hit his eyes. Here, above the treetops he floated completely weightless. For a moment, he froze time in his own perception just to admire the view. A sea of green as far as the eye could see, shrouded in the golden light of the sun. Then he reached for the leaves and branches below him to keep himself from floating up too high, lest he lose control again.

But the leaves were ripped off as he grabbed them—unable to handle the force he exerted—his heart lurching for a second before he swung out the sniper rifle held backwards; the butt got caught in a branch and he could just pull himself close enough to grab onto the leaves. He struggled for a moment to cancel the spin from swinging out the rifle and then collapsed the weapon, throwing it over his shoulder onto the Van der Waals strip.

He looked forward and grinned. Using both hands he began to half-crawl and half-pull himself forward as he floated weightlessly above the treetops. It was almost as if he was swimming above the ocean he had just beheld.

Behind him, he heard the woman shouting that he had disappeared above the treetops and a second later a rapid fire stream of bullets whizzed upwards in that general area. Leaves and bits of branch were torn loose and tossed around, almost like a small geyser. But the canopy of leaves and branches was enough to blot Emiya out of view and the movements his grabbing of the branches as he pulled himself forward was not enough to reveal his location.

He made some thirty meters above the trees like that, before his weight returned and he fell through the leaves.

Emiya had just enough presence of mind to grab a thick branch and hold onto it, lest he fall and break his legs upon impact with the ground. He looked around and spotted the two who had come hunting for him, scanning the treetops where he had been with their weapons raised.

Emiya pulled the sniper rifle and opened it to take aim, but a burst of rifle fire caused him to duck for cover. Leaves around him were ripped apart and torn loose, as the prone man was standing now by the car and taking pot shots at Emiya.

He almost swung around to take him out, but then he spotted the shadow rising behind the man.

Shepard will handle it. He thought and lined up his sights at the non-biotic soldier with the biotic woman. They had turned around to look at the car, only just now noticing Emiya. He pulled the trigger—boom!

The man froze up instantly and keeled over, before relaxing and laying bonelessly on the ground. The biotic woman flinched, looking between Emiya and her squadmate with wide eyes before she jumped for cover.

Another burst of rifle fire went past him, but none hit him since he was half-hidden behind the trunk of the tree. And then he heard the rapid double staccato pistol-fire and the shouts of surprise from the three still by the car.

Emiya spared a glance that way, noting that Shepard had already taken down the man who had been shooting at him and was now trading gunfire from cover with the man who had dragged off the wounded man earlier. She held a pistol in each hand, rapidly pulling the triggers to compensate for the low power of each individual shot.

I knew it was a good idea to hand Cassani's pistol to her, Emiya thought with a grin. The woman seemed to be completely at ease in the thick of a gunfight, using the two guns without any apparent hesitation or awkwardness as she ran between cover and concealment, denying her opponents even a moment of respite.

A cold shiver went through his spine and Emiya leapt out of the tree without a second thought, landing on an extended branch which swayed and bent under his body. He heard more than saw the impact of something blue smashing into his previous hiding place.

He didn't bother turning around as he jumped again, this time grabbing onto a thinner tree with his arms. The tree bent under his weight, slowing down his fall enough that when he let go the tree was almost parallel with the ground at a height of two meters.

Emiya landed on his back with a painful impact that knocked the air out of his lungs, but he rolled up immediately and took a potshot with the rifle. It hit nothing, but seemed to scare the biotic enough that she jumped for cover instead of pursuing him immediately.

He rolled and got to his feet, sprinting for cover again.

The biotic woman screamed something and Emiya grabbed a half-rotted tree branch and jumped as he threw it behind him. It hit the blue ball that had been chasing him, enveloping it in the weightlessness that had plagued him earlier.

Seems like my guess was correct; it latches onto whatever breaks the surface of the projectile. He thought calmly as he kept running.

He dropped to one knee and took aim, Pulling the trigger at the general direction of the woman, the gun let out another—boom!, making her jump for cover again. She used her pistol to take a few potshots at him, but none came even close to hitting home.

Emiya retreated towards the car, taking shots every few steps and keeping the woman pinned down. Halfway there, he switched from the rifle to the pistol and placed the former on his back as he began to pelt the biotic's general direction with bullets.

He turned around on the road and began to sprint for the car, blinking as he spotted Shepard in the front passenger seat with her gun held to a man's head as he sat in the driver's seat. Their new driver seemingly distinctly uncomfortable with the apparent state of affairs.

"Get in! He's driving!" Shepard shouted and Emiya nodded with understanding as he jumped in.

"Cassani, any problems on your end?" Emiya asked the comms.

"Nope, good to go!"

"Floor it, friend." Shepard said, entirely too smugly as she poked the man at the wheel with her pistol.

"Our agreement?"

"As long as you hold your end." She said, grinning and ignoring the inquisitive look Emiya threw her.

That seemed enough as he floored the pedal and the car began to move, clearing the two trees with a few bumps and some noise of crunching wood beneath their tires, but otherwise without any issues. A testament to the original driver's inexperience that, really.

Then again, given how surprised their chauffeur seemed, perhaps the car wasn't officially rated for something like that. Perhaps their driver had thought they would get stuck, which was why he was willing to cooperate as long as he did not get shot. Regardless, they hit the road and drove the fifty meters to Cassani's location and Shepard ordered him to stop.

Emiya jumped out, taking a prone position with the sniper rifle again as he kept vigil for the biotic woman. Shepard meanwhile, herded out their driver at gunpoint, jumping over the shift-stick to come out through the same door as he had, and then forcing him to grab and carry Cassani to the rear-seats.

Pull—boom!

The biotic ducked, the shot grazing her shoulder. Emiya exhaled, searching for any sign of her as he let the gun cool down again.

"Time to go, Emiya!" Shepard shouted and Emiya obliged, getting up and collapsing the rifle in one smooth motion as he jumped into the car. Their shanghaied driver put pedal to the metal as they shot off at full speed, the car jumping and shaking with the terrible road conditions and the lack of a rear tire.

They drove for five minutes until they came to a Y-shaped crossroad. Shepard ordered him to park the car next to the road and then for him to get out. The driver obliged, his hand inching to turn off the car.

"Nope. Keep it running. You think I don't know we can't start it ourselves?" Shepard asked, prodding him with the muzzle of her pistol.

The driver licked his lips, nervously.

"Think it through, smart guy. You give us a minor inconvenience and get shot. Or you let it go, do as we agreed and you get to run back to your squad. Which choice ends up with your entire squad dead and dying in the jungle and which ends with you getting back in time to patch them up?" Shepard continued, smiling still.

The driver raised his hand, leaving the car running as he exited with a sullen look.

"So why did you grab him? Besides for a driver, I mean." Emiya asked, getting out of the car as he scanned their surroundings.

"He's a doc, I figured he could take a look at Franco." Shepard said, shrugging.

"Sentinel, not doctor. Not even a field medic, I just have the first aid specialization—"

"Yeah, yeah yeah. You're still the only one who can use those medigel you got, so get to it." Shepard said, motioning at the limp Cassani.

The Sentinel frowned, before walking up to Cassani and activating his omnitool. He scanned Cassani and then brought out a yellow bag, labeled clearly 'training tool – NOT MEDIGEL – training tool' in big bold letters.

He applied it and suddenly Cassani took a deep inhale and raised a hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah. I can move again. Wait, my legs..."

"He has a spinal injury, the medigel couldn't heal that." The Sentinel said with a shrug. "Can I go now? I need to—"

"Not so fast." Shepard said, raising her gun again. "Heal him, too, while we're at it."

She nodded at Emiya, who blinked before realizing she was referring to his simulated hip injury. He had long since learned to compensate for it, so it had essentially already slipped his mind. It didn't affect his performance that much and there wasn't any pain to blot out, so it was a minor inconvenience at worst.

"That wasn't a part of the deal, I need the medigel for my squad—"

Pffftzzz!

The Sentinel fell, his leg failing beneath him as Shepard shot his leg mid-sentence.

"Yeah, that was the deal before I remembered we had more injuries. Now, you're already down two medigel. Want me to keep shooting you until you're down to zero?" Shepard said, smiling sweetly as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world.

The Sentinel gaped up at her, eyes wide open. He licked his lips, his eyes darting between the three who were around him in an effort to find some support against Shepard's demands. But he found nothing, as Emiya merely watched with cool indifference and Cassani was studiously pretending he wasn't a part of this conversation.

The medic swallowed nervously, before nodding. Emiya merely stood by the side, watching the whole event with a sharp gaze. He hadn't expected Shepard to be quite this proactive, but it wasn't like he had anything against it, specifically. Sure, she was kind of skirting morally reprehensible territory here, but this was all just a simulation. No one had actually been hurt; it was just the man himself who had gotten lost in the realism of the situation.

Well, hopefully the only one. Emiya thought as he glanced at Shepard. This is exactly why she would be right at home in wetworks.

With a quick application of the fake-medigel, the servos locking up at his hip loosened up and Emiya could move again freely. He tested his range of motion with a few bouncing jumps and found it satisfactory.

Emiya nodded to Shepard and she half-smiled back at him, seemingly satisfied at the result.

"Alright now, run along before I change my mind." Shepard grinned at the Sentinel, shooing him away with her gun.

He hesitated and then began to limp away. Pffftzzz!

Shepard shot at the ground at his feet, almost making him stumble and fall again as the dirt exploded into the air in a small crater.

"Did I stutter? Run!" She raised her arms into the air as she shouted, making the man blink. Then she drew her other pistol from the Van der Waals strip at the small of her back and took aim. At that he definitely reacted and began to limp away as quickly as he could.

"Heh, he won't remember to plot against us while he's running. Alright, let's get going." Shepard said turning back around with a refreshed grin. "Besides, he's running in the wrong direction."

She chuckled at that, holstering her pistol again.

Cassani stared at her with wide eyes, muttering 'perra loco' beneath his breath while Emiya nodded at her, ignoring their third teammate.

"Oh, yeah. I got us some more toys to play with. Wanna do your magic again?" She thumbed at the back of the car, where he could see three assault rifles.

Emiya huffed in amusement, shrugging at her with a half-smile. "I shall endeavor to impress. Or at the very least, to meet your expectations."

She, not entirely sure about some of the words he had used, half-frowned at him before shrugging with a grin. "Yeah, you do that and I won't have to shoot you, too. I'm only keeping you around for your magic touch, Emiya."

Again, Cassani seemed to be taking her seriously and seemed to pale a little, but Emiya understood that this was how she was showing affection.

Having grown up on the streets, her socialization was woefully lacking, thus she must be emulating what she saw around her, he reasoned. The bravado and bluster she saw among the other recruits, to her it translated into a behavior that to others must have seemed like near-sociopathic disregard for social conventions.

Emiya hesitated, before sighing. Wondering whether he could let this go on. No, it wasn't something for him to do anything about. That time with the foot had been a mistake on his part. Even so, he could see how she would struggle in the future if this error in her mindset was not pointed out...

He ignored that line of thought as he decided to focus on the moment.

He grabbed a rifle and aimed at the roadside, pulling the trigger... Nothing happened. Not entirely unexpected. "Chief Thomas, sir. I know you are watching and I know you know that I know how to make this thing work."

He waited five seconds and pulled the trigger... Nothing happened.

"Fine. We'll do it the hard way." Emiya said with a shrug. He turned to look at Shepard and Cassani. "Let's get Cassani onto the front passenger seat. I'll sit in the back and get this rifle working so I can talk to the Chief about it. I assume you can drive this thing, Shepard?"

"Nah, but I watched while that guy did and I can figure out the rest." She grinned.

Emiya sighed again, but went with it.

"The chief?" Cassani blinked, asking. But neither bothered to explain as they each grabbed an arm and hauled him up and into the car.



;


They had driven for fifteen minutes now. With Cassani's upper body working again, Shepard had returned his pistol to him and he had then been delegated to map reading.

The amount of roads, old roads, old roads that did not exist on the map and old roads that did not exist on the map nor in reality unless you squinted just right, exceeded all of their expectations. Emiya reasoned that the car would be hunted down sooner or later, so for now they should avoid the bigger roads to make it as difficult as possible for them to be found.

The rifle was much the same as the sniper rifle, with the barrel length, scope settings, shaver and mass accelerator's rate of operation being the chief differences. Thus it only took him the fifteen minutes to get his pistol cannibalized for his little exploit.

He had gotten so used to the process that he could have done it in ten, were it not for the constant bouncing and jostling due to the terrible road conditions. He opened the window enough to stick the barrel out.

"Firing in 3, 2, 1—"—trr'rr'rr'rr'rrtt

The assault rifle spewed supersonic shavings at a considerable rate of fire, even with the short burst he had pulled. It worked just fine.

"Alright, now to call for some tech support again..." Emiya said, setting down the Lancer rifle and pulling up his omnitool again. He dialed the support once again and waited. Thomas picked up immediately.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He accused immediately.

Emiya stifled the smirk and controlled his face and voice as he waited for a second.

"Well... I won't deny that this is fun, sir."

Thomas gave an explosive sigh, obviously not at all pleased with them right now.

"Who's he calling? Who you calling?" Cassani blinked, trying to turn around as he heard the conversation.

"Mm, right. You weren't in the loop. Franco Cassani, this is Gunnery Chief Thomas, assigned to keep an eye on us because we keep breaking the rules we don't know about." Emiya said, carefully keeping any and all mirth from his voice despite the obviously mirthful choice of words. Cassani merely blinked blankly at that, having no idea what to say.

"So you knew that turning off your shields was bad, didn't you? Even though it was not explicitly mentioned anywhere and you had not been told that, you could infer it, couldn't you?"

"Ah, well. If it works and no one thought to tell me not to... Well, who am I not to abuse the hell out of it?" Emiya said and he could hear Shepard chortling in the front by the wheel as she drove.

"Riiight, and the fact that no one told you how to turn off the shields or how to manually reboot the hardsuit didn't tell you that? That perhaps you weren't supposed to be doing it? You could have gotten killed, for fucks sake, you crazy bastard. You could have gotten your teammate killed!"

"Actually, the hardsuit manual explicitly mentions the feature on page 4041 and refers to the advanced settings in the omnitool, for which instructions are on page 234 of the omnitool guide. And Shepard made the choice herself, fully aware of the risks." Emiya explained, dialing back the ribbing tone and opting for a more neutral and conciliatory one.

"Sure did, sir. Oh, can I ask for the tapes of myself later? I wanna see their faces again when I dropped right on them from nowhere, hehehehe..." Shepard laughed.

"...For fuck's sake... It actually is in the manual. No one reads the fucking manual! Well, apparently except for you! Jesus, I'm gonna have to throw this ball up the foodchain because I have no idea who I'm supposed to chew up about this entire fucking fiasco."

"Couldn't you have just shut it all down?" Emiya asked. He had slightly been worried that that would happen.

"I would have, if not for— What? Yeah, okay, I won't mention it." Thomas began but the cut off to speak to someone next to him. "It doesn't matter. I see you've gotten the assault rifles working, too. Wonderful. I'll unlock them, so long as you promise not to give me any more crazy surprises. I mean aside from stealing a car and putting someone without the training to operate it—or even with a damn license to her name, for that matter—behind the wheel. You scrap that thing and we'll all be paying it off, you hear? Makos don't come cheap, alright? I have enough people breathing down my neck as it is."

"Sure, you got it, chief." Emiya cheerfully promised and the sigh from the other end before the com-line was cut was his only answer. Someone was there, next to the chief? Someone higher ranked than the Chief himself, from the sound of things.

"Sweet. I've wanted a bigger gun since you got one. Was starting to feel a bit jealous." Shepard quipped as Emiya handed her a collapsed rifle, attaching it to her Van der Waals-strips on her back as she leaned forward.

He handed another to Cassani who took it a little bit more gingerly, holding it in his lap as he continued to scan the jungle that rolled by.

They continued on for a little while as Cassani and Emiya compared the maps, trying to figure out the best route ahead. They drove for an hour, taking a long detour around the city and using the smaller roads, often driving through patches of forest to switch between roads to get where they wanted to.

Somewhere along the way, Emiya discovered a manual for the Mako in the glove box. An actual, 'dumb' hardcopy of a manual. Printed on paper and everything. Though it lacked a search function which would have been immensely helpful, Emiya still leafed through it.

He found that there was a transceiver-receiver antenna which allowed the people to control and access the Mako from a distance with their omnitools, so he had them stop for five minutes. Of course, lacking any and all tools for a delicate disassembly, he simply let Shepard grab a rock and smack it loose from the frame.

Emiya could almost feel the Chief judging them from a distance as they did that. But it would be a quick repair job, so he ignored it. Hell, he could do it in five minutes, tops.

As they began to approach the city again, Emiya decided it was time.

"Shepard, we should talk."

"Huh? What is it?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"It's got to do with how you act."

She blinked, slowing down and looking at him with furrowed brows. It was the expression he had seen on her face, when he'd confronted her about her leg. Though not quite as guarded; she trusted him somewhat already.

"Yeah, what about it?" She asked, the growing heat apparent to him despite her attempts to sound and be calm.

"Just that you might want to consider how it appears to others." He said, causing her to blink and frown at him as she brought the car to a stop.

"Want to consider how it what?" She turned around fully to stare at him, pursing her lips in dissatisfaction.

"That guy you shot. He'll probably remember you for the rest of his life." He said with a light smile, knowing it would release the tension a little.

"Heh, sure will." She said with a chuckle, before looking at him seriously. She would listen to what he had to say.

"The same way Cassani will remember you." He continued, the man in question flinching a little as he was dragged into the conversation, as he had been trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"Huh?"

"You do realize Cassani thinks you're completely crazy, right?" Emiya asked.

She frowned at him, glancing at Cassani with a side-ways look. "...Yeah, and?"

"Just something I thought you might want to consider. Nothing more." Emiya said with a disarming smile. Shepard stared at him through the mirror, her green eyes boring into him as she frowned deep in thought. She turned to look at Cassani, who was studiously avoiding looking at her. Her frown deepened. "And then there's the fact that treating a prisoner like that is technically a war crime."

"Huh? War crime?" She blinked at him in complete confusion, her brows furrowed.

Emiya shrugged, "Yeah. They might dock us some points for that."

"But... But? I mean, it worked, didn't it?" She didn't sound just as much angry as she sounded confused. It had always worked for her, even before the Navy. It was how she handled herself and had always known. If you wanted something, you had to apply some pressure.

"Yeah, it did. But it still might affect our rating." Emiya said, then turning to look at Cassani. "Among other things."

Shepard frowned, though said nothing.

"How about we eat now? We haven't had a break in a while." Emiya suggested and Cassani agreed immediatly. They broke out the field rations and water bottles, with Shepard eating quietly.

They continued in silence for five minutes, until Shepard looked up at Emiya again.

"Emiya, are we... okay?" She asked, sounding hesitant to hear what he would say.

He looked at her and considered those words. Perhaps he had been too direct?

Emiya hadn't meant to push her buttons this much, but he had considered from what he understood of her that it would be better if she realized this sooner rather than later. This would help her realize that she had been pushing people away, along with what he had actually said.

The way she looked at groups of people; the way she had been emulating that group dynamic with him; the truly satisfied grin she had been wearing all day even through the exhaustion, excitement and exertion.

She had obviously enjoyed working with him more than she had enjoyed any other relationship in her life. But that wouldn't do. He wasn't going to stay with her, after all. No, that was wrong. It wasn't that he was worried about her, he simply—

Emiya sighed, ending that train of thought.

Perhaps he had sabotaged their working relationship now, but given how much serious thought she seemed to be giving his words, he thought it would be for the better nonetheless. She wouldn't be happy if she stayed alone and scaring off everyone with her behavior. Not in the long run. Because he was going to leave sooner or later, she would also have to come to terms with this at some point. Perhaps this was his fault; having approached her in the first place and butting his head into her business without asking for her permission or opinion at all.

But having gotten involved, he would see it through. At least in one form or another.

Seeing her at first, he had felt strange. Nostalgic, in an almost painful manner.

He saw someone pushing themselves forward at a desperate pace, with a single-minded zeal, disregardning everything around them as they simply could not understand the worth of what they eschewed. And he thought that she would regret that kind of life, in the end.

He knew what that kind of life was like first hand, after all.

"Yeah, we are." He nodded as he took a bite out of the dry ration bar and chewed. He looked up, meeting her eyes. "Aren't we?"

She blinked.

She really looked at him, then.

It was a strange realization, that. Coming to terms that he might not understand her thoughts as intimately as she knew them herself. That he might not know what she wanted through simple inference. She looked at Cassani, who was also eating and for the first time realized that she did not understand him at all. Therefore it made sense to assume that he did not understand her at all, either.

And suddenly things that had been out of place, simply seemed to click.

Coming from a world where one lived day to day, always struggling to just make ends meet and acting out relationships in the most superficial of manners, she had never considered that. Never considered that there could be additional layers to interacting with people. That where they had come from, even if they were all in the same place in the present, might greatly affect how they behaved and thought of others.

She knew rage. She knew fear. She knew veiled and hidden hatred; a resolve to lash out when it would not hurt one in return. But this form of deep resentment and unease, which did not manifest outwardly in immediate violence.

This, almost shallow anger that existed in the hearts of others. It was strange.

Those words he had thrown at her before; about always being too wary about everyone around her. She finally understood them.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are." She said, sounding somehow surprised. She looked up at him, then turned to Cassani. "How about you, are we okay?"

"Er... Sure? Yeah?" Cassani hesitated for a second.

Shepard blinked, looking thoughtful. She continued eating, nibbling at a ration bar in deep thought as she muttered, "I guess we aren't, huh..."

Emiya shrugged and ate the rest of his rations. For all the resolution and peace she seemed to have gained from that conversation, all of his doubts seemed to have re-doubled and returned with a vengeance.

Suddenly, he remembered a smile.

Emiya scowled and emptied his water bottle, washing down everything in his mouth along with the grimace that sprung up at the memory.



;



"Alright, show me the building that collapsed." Emiya said after they had finished eating.

Overall their rations were simply terrible. Well, as far as taste went. Nutrition- and energy-wise they were top-notch. So much so that it required an enhanced metabolic system to make full use of all the stuff compressed into those little bars. Still tasted like ash and sand, making Emiya grimace with every bite. After he was finished, he began to plan ahead again.

The Navy also discouraged eating nutrition bars for more than four days in a row, as much like MREs of centuries ago, they did play havoc on your gastrointestinal tract. Due to the heavily concentrated nutrients and lack of fiber it would result in an eventual experience best described as, "shitting bricks".

An increase in flatulence frequencey and amplitude was also a noted side-effect. Apparently. The more things change...

Emiya had pulled up a holographic projection of the map they had received before landing in the city. Cassani hesitated, then looked down at the map.

"Uh..."

Since the map was a picture from orbit, rather than an artificial representation with a legend and a scale, it required a different kind of eye for reading. And it also would not be update in real-time, which meant that he had to annotate the changes that had been wrought. Most of the stuff he had noticed while inside the city, he had merely mentally noted in his mental map, but at this point it was better to keep everything above the board.

Which meant doing it the proper way.

"It might have been this one." Cassani hesitated, pointing at a rectangular building at the North end of the city.

Emiya nodded, considering that. It was obvious that Cassani was not entirely certain, but as long as the general location was correct it would tell Emiya something about what was going on in the city. Where the combat was happening; where a hypothetical shot might have come from by comparing to the positions he remembered from before; what they might have been aiming at and more.

It wasn't much, but on the battlefield when one was completely isolated and without support, considering even the smallest details was vital. But at the same time, avoiding over-extrapolation was important as well. Going off half-cocked because of faulty intel was paramount to assisted suicide.

"We should go around. This thing can go through the jungle roads just fine. Even if we have to take a long route around here," Shepard butted in, pointing at the map as she traced something that might have been a road. "we should still have plenty of time to get to the RV. We've got, what..."

"Three and a half hours left." Emiya answered as she moved to check the time.

"Huh, well..." She hesitated, licking her lips as she shot a glance at Emiya.

There's something she wants, but is hesitating to ask. Emiya thought. Right, the side objectives.

"I'll check the list and see if something pops up. For now, start driving that way. Cassani, strap yourself to the passenger seat and keep an eye open on the right side with the rifle ready. See anything suspicious, just hose it with bullets." Emiya said, sending the annotated map to Shepard's omnitool so that she could read it while driving.

"Drive by-style, eh? Can do, boss. Wish this thing had a radio, though." Cassani said, nodding with some bravado as he patted the dashboard in front of him.

"...Well, I know you have some music on your omnitool, so I won't mind if you listen to it. Just don't bother me with it." Emiya said after a moment of thought, making the third member of their team blink and grin his thanks in return.

It was dumb to listen to music during all of this, but managing Cassani's nerves was important too. Emiya knew that Cassani hadn't enlisted with direct combat roles in mind, so the man wasn't quite as used to this. He had a simple enough role that it didn't quite matter so much, anyhow. As Shepard shot him an inquisitive glance, he waved her away mouthing the words 'just let him' as he did.

She frowned but nodded and began to set up her omnitool with the map in her HUD.

Emiya turned around and crawled through the inside of the car until he reached the back, there he got on his back and began to kick at the fractured rear window. The two at the front jumped in surprise at the first kick and looked at what he was doing, but then turned around to keep doing what they had been before.

Emiya's weird ideas seemed to work most of the time, so there wasn't really a point in questioning everything he did.

Finally, after the fourth kick, the pane came loose enough for the mechanism for opening it to function again. It was a rather simple latch that let the window fall backwards and down, but when locked it would hermetically seal it. In theory it allowed for an airtight vehicle, and it was definitely not something he could have kicked through since it had stopped a rifle bullet.

He opened the rear-window and began to set up his sniper rifle. It wasn't the best firing location, but assuming they would get pursuers sooner or later, then getting it ready now would save time. He tried several positions and anchor points for stability, getting used to how it felt and how he could fire there if he needed to later.

Besides, if someone could shut down the car from a distance like they could start it up with their omnitool, then they needed to have a way of getting out of the car. After all, it was certainly possible that the doors could be locked to the inside as well when it was done.

Always keep your options open.

Finally, he retracted the sniper rifle and collapsed it again. Checking that the window was still loose enough to be closed and opened normally, he closed it to offer them a fraction more protection. Since they didn't have kinetic barriers, getting shot through the back would have been bad.

"Alright, let's go."

The engine hummed back to life as the car began to move forward, having been idling during their break. A quick examination by Emiya had confirmed Shepard's earlier caution as prudent, in that it required a omnitool command to start up the car, along with several other features that they did not at the moment possess.

He would have liked to read through the manual more thoroughly, but for now it would have to wait.

Shepard continued to drive, using the smallest roads and gaps possible, often ignoring the holographic map altogether as she navigated on sheer instinct and gut feeling. She simply chose a heading and then checked that she did not stray too much as they drove on.

At one point, Cassani had objected when Shepard had wanted to drive down a cliff. She argued that if they kept going fast enough, they wouldn't fall off. He argued that she was insane. Emiya reminded her that if they broke the car, they would have to pay for it, which seemed to change her opinion on the matter.

Only a little, it seemed.

She followed the cliff until she found a sheer drop which was much shorter, which she deemed safe enough to drop down from. She didn't bother listening to Cassani this time and Emiya actually felt his stomach drop for a moment there and for a second he had considered Reinforcing the suspensions just to keep it safe.

But luckily, the Mako seemed inordinately sturdy and took the drop without any problems.

Soon they broke out of the jungle and reached the half-plains of old suburban areas, driving through and over old houses and collapsed mansions. This seemed to be especially to Shepard's liking as she whooped and hooted every time something crunched and cracked beneath their massive tires.

Even Cassani seemed to be having fun, though he would have denied it vehemently.

As the looming skeleton of the decrepit city loomed ahead, Shepard finally pulled to a stop as she turned to look at Emiya. She still hoped he would find something. Especially since they had made it in less than an hour through the jungle and suburb.

With over two and a half hours worth, there was plenty of time in her mind for some frolicking around in the city. Emiya shrugged, presenting a mission objective he had chosen among the multitude available to them.

"'Disable communications relay in water tower'... And it's pretty close by, huh?" She read, licking her lips and looking up at him. It was still his choice. He nodded at her, pulling out his omnitool map again.

"We could do it, but it would require some scouting and planning, first." He said, with a serious look in his eyes.

She inhaled and nodded after a second. "Which would need time that we don't have."

Cassani looked at the two of them, confused.

"Huh, what's the problem? We have like two hours, that should be plenty."

"It would be." Emiya said, turning to look at him. "Except we're probably being tracked. This Mako is most likely something that its owners can't afford to lose in the long run. They'll be looking for us."

"And we can't leave it, because moving in the city without the armor just leaves us open to ambushes. Especially with you around, you know." Shepard continued.

Cassani made a noise of understanding and then sat silently. "So we're gonna have to split up? One checks it out while the other two keep moving in the car?"

Emiya nodded.

"Well, it is what it is. Shepard, you keep driving around. Get back in the jungle over there and try to make it seem like you're not just wasting time if anyone is watching. I'd rather not someone come investigate my trail." Emiya spoke, checking his gear. Hardsuit, omnitool, pistol, assault rifle and sniper rifle. Compared to the beginning, his loadout was much improved. "Come pick me up here in half an hour; I'll go and take a look around and see if there's anything we can do."

"We can still just ditch the car and walk to the RV. I... I mean, getting there would be already pretty good. I don't think many would manage in the city, if they were dropped off where we were." Shepard said, not looking at him. Her gauntlet-clad fingers were gripping the steering wheel.

"Maybe. But no harm in just taking a look. We've got momentum on our side. Might as well make use of it." He said, shrugging as he got out of the armored car. Slamming the door shut, he nodded at Cassani and began to jog away. He turned on the comms as he kept going. "And if I don't come back, just head for the RV without me, alright?"

Silence answered him for a good ten seconds, until Shepard answered. "...Understood." and then drove away.


;

Thanks to shadyxlr for consulting and assisting with military stuff over at ffnet.

Thanks to PseudoSteak for helping with spelling and phrasing over at ffnet.

Thanks to FourScore ,Tactical Tunic and Tisaku for proofreading here on sb.

This chapter was one of those weird ones where I wrote it in one sitting, enjoying the hell out of it, but then on going back and editing I re-wrote half of everything at least once because I didn't think it was quite right when I read it again later. Weird stuff, but I need to keep going forward.

Also, we're caught up. Next chapter released when a sufficient amount of firstborn have been prepared.
 
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GabeC1997

One That Questions All
Maybe I should have waited till after you posted all your completed chapters to press watch? Because it's just painful to see all these 16k word alerts that I know I've already read.
 

Deathwings

Aggravated frenchman
I like how Nameless is taking what was, for all intent and purpose, the nascent Butcher Of Torfan and gently aiming her toward the Hero path instead. He's really screwing up the brasses attempt to make Shep into their trained attack dog, isn't he ?
 
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Recursive Anathema

Keep Wa̶lki͏̳̠͙̼̲̼͠ͅn͏̬͔͎̹̫̖͎̰̯g̡̭̟̮͘̕
I like how Nameless is taking what was, for all intent and purpose, the nascent Butcher Of Torfan and gently aiming her toward the Hero path instead. He's really screwing up the basses attempt to make Shep into their trained attack dog, isn't he ?
I thought about injecting at some part a scene where Archimedes used the Moon Cell to view the future, essentially saying this. But it won't really have any place in the story proper, so I'm already sure I won't be adding it. But that was sort of the thing I was going for.
Looking at the timelines on the wiki, the "normal" path would have been something like Shepard goes to BCT => Shuffled into marines due to poor credits and inability top get along with anyone => Works her way up into N-program after years of service => Butcher of Torfan => Low war-effort Destruction ending.

Just a vague outline I had in mind, which doesn't really affect anything.
 
I think they will be less then impressed at his stubborn insistance on being engineer-and not even combat engineer, later on.
will end up sending himn as 'engineer' to various hotspots.

to fix ship that ended up needing to make a stop at this or that battlefield... end up on ship 'accidantly' going through known pirate route etc...
 

GabeC1997

One That Questions All
Now that I think of it, I wonder what Archimedes reaction will be to the possibility of using Eezo to break conservation of energy, and thus breaking math? Which it apparently can do in series (cough relays cough) if you have enough of it. Really just anything that can possibly annoy him amuses me.
 
Might as well as comment since you put this on SB. Really loving the story so far even if I can't wait for Archer to really change things and really interact with the ME universe. Also I see EMIYA is also a man of taste because he zeroed in on the infiltrator class which is objectively the best and I am not biased whatsoever.
 

GabeC1997

One That Questions All
I thought about injecting at some part a scene where Archimedes used the Moon Cell to view the future, essentially saying this. But it won't really have any place in the story proper, so I'm already sure I won't be adding it. But that was sort of the thing I was going for.
Looking at the timelines on the wiki, the "normal" path would have been something like Shepard goes to BCT => Shuffled into marines due to poor credits and inability top get along with anyone => Works her way up into N-program after years of service => Butcher of Torfan => Low war-effort Destruction ending.

Just a vague outline I had in mind, which doesn't really affect anything.
β 2172 CE
The Moon Cell discovers Prothean Ruins on southern pole of Mars. Notes possible observation station that exceeds current oldest records in databank. Unable to trace existence in immediate lightyear around itself. Considers secondary means of investigation.
There's a few problems with that idea. Simulating variations on a single planet is easy with the kind of processing ability it has, especially when it has thousands of years of extremely thorough data to work from. The entire galaxy not so much, it'll probably need to access something as old as the prothean archives (at the very least) before it can create any accurate models.
 

Faralis

Ancient onsen master
Might as well as comment since you put this on SB. Really loving the story so far even if I can't wait for Archer to really change things and really interact with the ME universe. Also I see EMIYA is also a man of taste because he zeroed in on the infiltrator class which is objectively the best and I am not biased whatsoever.
He already mellowed Renegade Shep. That's a big change.

I'm happy to see this, so I'm rereading it again.

Also Vanguard forever. Of course.
 

GabeC1997

One That Questions All
Not sure what you're referring to, mind elaborating?
It (the Moon-Cell) simply doesn't know enough about the history of the galaxy to create a model involving the Reapers (well, yes it could but it'd be something hypothetical like "what if an alien invasion from beyond the galactic rim happened at this time in the future"), much less the destruction ending. Not yet anyway, which is what Shirou was sent out to fix. Right? I might have misinterpreted something.
 
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