Romani Archaman was in one of the break rooms, lying face down on a sofa. The floating screen in front of him showed an old romantic comedy from Earth, a guilty pleasure he rarely got to enjoy with so many scientists and high-ranking officials walking around Chaldea.
"Five more minutes..." he murmured, face still buried in the cushion.
Then the explosion shook the facility's foundations. The lights flickered, alarms began to scream, and the monitor instantly went dark.
Romani jumped off the sofa with an almost comical clumsiness, tripping over his own feet before rushing into the hallway, stethoscope still dangling around his neck.
"What the hell was that?! It can't be... it can't be now!"
The run to the command center felt eternal. Every turn of the hallway showed more chaos: smoke, sparks, emergency lights. Protocol was collapsing.
When he finally arrived, what he saw froze his blood.
The place was devastated.
Monitors destroyed. Systems offline. Sparks flying from consoles that once controlled humanity's fate.
In the center, most of the Master candidates were on the floor, unconscious or seriously injured. Some were barely recognizable.
And there, among the smoldering wreckage, was Olga Marie Animusphere, slumped over, breathing weakly.
Romani swallowed with difficulty.
"No... not now. Not so soon."
He hurried to check her, nervously feeling her neck for a pulse. A weak one. But she was alive. For now.
"I need medical support here!" he shouted into the communicator, but only static replied.
He couldn't waste time.
He stood up, heart racing wildly, and headed for the maintenance area, where Da Vinci usually worked. To his luck—or by sheer habit—she was there, surrounded by blueprints, coffee, and chaos.
"Da Vinci! The command center was attacked! Olga is unconscious and all the Masters collapsed! I need your help restoring the Rayshift system!"
She raised an eyebrow, as if it took her a moment to take the urgency seriously, but her gaze sharpened immediately.
"Rayshift? What happened exactly?"
Romani practically dragged her as he explained the little he knew. Back in what remained of the command center, they began checking the damaged terminals.
And then, on one of the few still-functional screens, an alert flashed red:
[EMERGENCY TRANSFER COMPLETED]
[DESTINATION: SINGULARITY F - FUYUKI]
[INDIVIDUALS TRANSFERRED: 2]
Romani felt a shiver down his spine. His fingers trembled on the keyboard.
"What...!? Who was sent...? How...?"
The screen gave no names, only energy data logs. Only two signatures... and one of them didn't match any official Master.
"One of the new candidates... and someone else?"
Without losing a second, he activated the communication system, forcing a scan towards the singularity.
"This is Doctor Romani Archaman from Chaldea! Can anyone hear me? Repeat, if you're in Fuyuki and can hear me, respond! You must stay calm! We'll try to restore full communication as soon as possible!"
The silence lasted a few eternal seconds, interrupted only by the crackle of the broken systems. There was no response.
He clenched his fists. He knew it was likely the two sent were alone, without Servants, without equipment, without preparation. And if one of them was Mash...
"Please... please be alive."
The wind kept dragging ash as if trying to hide the corpses of the past. The protagonist wandered aimlessly, his heart pounding rapidly from the tension. Romani's fragmented message still echoed in his head.
"...tion... Rayshift... damaged... Mash... contact... careful..."
He had no direction, no answers. Only fear nipping at his heels... until he felt them.
The first crunch was enough. He spun around to find a skeletal figure raising a rusted sword. He ran. Without thinking, he ran.
But with every step, new figures emerged from the rubble. Armed skeletons, empty, soulless. Surrounded. Every alley was a trap, every exit an ambush.
"No, no, no! This can't be happening! I can't die here!" he screamed, falling backward as the bones closed in on him like a white tide.
And then, a purple light cut through the air. An explosion of strength, metal, and will.
"Back, monsters!"
The sound of steel striking bone filled the air. A female figure, armed with a gigantic shield, made her way through the shadows with fierce grace. The skeletons were reduced to dust one after another.
The protagonist looked up... and his heart stopped for a second.
"M-Mash...?" he whispered in disbelief.
There she was. Just as he remembered her from the game... but more real. Much more. Her black armor fitted her figure with perfect precision, elegant yet somewhat provocative, and the enormous shield she carried radiated power. She was beautiful. Imposing. Undeniably her.
And very close.
Too close.
He swallowed, trying not to stare too much, and felt a slight blush rising to his cheeks.
"Not the time for weird thoughts... focus!" he mentally scolded himself as he clumsily got up.
Mash observed him with a mix of relief and seriousness, as if she didn't notice his blush.
"You're safe. I arrived just in time. Are you hurt?"
"N-no, I'm fine... thanks to you," he replied, still shaken.
"Good... Because I don't plan on letting anything hurt you."
At that moment, his right hand burned with force. A red glow ignited on his skin, slowly forming a set of symbols.
"Huh...?" He looked at his hand, confused.
A circular design, with a shape he didn't recognize immediately, was etched with mystical intensity. Three marks like overlapping moons, elegant, ethereal.
"Command Spells...?" he murmured.
Mash nodded with a faint smile.
"That confirms you're my Master. From now on... I'll be by your side."
He looked down at his hand, still glowing softly. The symbol had something... strange. It didn't seem like a common seal. That lunar shape made him think of something... something he didn't fully understand. But also, something that felt close. Intimate. As if he had always known it.
A new connection. A newly sealed destiny.
And as he looked up, Mash was still there, shield firm, hair tousled by the wind... and him unable to erase the slight blush from his face.
"Okay... This is real. This is very real."
The sky remained stained red like an open wound. The wind blew through twisted structures, laden with ash, dust... and something else. Something that couldn't be seen, but felt lurking.
The protagonist walked beside Mash in silence, their footsteps echoing among the rubble of a city that no longer existed. They had no direction. Romani still hadn't restored communication, and without Olga in this version of the story, there was no leadership, no guide.
"This is more desolate than I imagined..." he said, looking at the charred remains of what was once a playground.
Mash walked beside him with her shield slung over her shoulder, always alert.
"Fuyuki was brought to this state by an anomalous convergence of magical energy. The Singularity..." she commented, repeating what she had learned at Chaldea, but her voice gradually faded.
It didn't need explaining. The landscape spoke for itself.
Long, silent minutes passed. Sometimes they exchanged glances, other times they just listened to the distant crunch of bones or the shriek of some shadow crossing collapsed roofs.
Suddenly, they both stopped at the same time.
The air changed.
A sudden pressure settled on their backs. Instinct, pure and ancient, screamed "run!"
A figure descended from a bent lamppost, as light as a feather... and as lethal as a spear.
"Get back!" he yelled, stepping backward.
But it was too late.
A man with wild blue hair, bright crimson eyes, and armor that seemed made of shadows and metal stood before them. In his right hand, a red spear vibrated with a thirst for blood.
"Well, well... What a curious pair." He smiled, without humor. "A newborn Demi-Servant... and a boy with a clueless face. Should I amuse myself a bit?"
Lancer.
The protagonist recognized him instantly. Though he didn't remember precisely if it was the same in all timelines, there was no doubt. The spear. The predator's smile. The murderous aura.
Mash stepped in front of him, shield raised high.
"Please, step back! I'll handle this!"
The spear struck the shield with a deafening crash. Mash was pushed back several meters, though she managed to stay on her feet.
"Mash!" yelled the protagonist, trying to approach.
"I'm fine! Just... stay behind me!" she replied with difficulty.
The battle began.
Lancer attacked with impossible speed, launching precise thrusts that Mash barely managed to block. Each clash made the shield creak and forced her to retreat further. Her technique was good, but her inexperience showed. She defended, retreated, and only managed to counterattack when she found an opening. But those openings were traps. Lancer provoked her, forced her to make mistakes, enjoying the game.
The protagonist clenched his fists, frustrated.
"In the game this was resolved quickly... but here? This is real. If he lands a clean hit... Mash could..."
Lancer raised his weapon at a strange angle. The protagonist recognized it. That stance...
"No! Mash, get away!"
But it was too late.
A crimson glow gathered on the spear... and it was launched with lightning speed.
"MASH!!!"
And then... another spear stopped it.
A flash of blue magic struck from the side, deflecting the cursed weapon at the last second. Lancer clicked his tongue, frustrated, and turned to his new attacker.
"Tch!? You...!?"
From atop a ruined tower, a figure descended, wrapped in mage's robes, with a long cape fluttering in the wind and an identical spear in hand.
"You know? It bothers me to see an alternate version of myself getting too spear-happy with some kids who aren't to blame for anything."
Caster Cu Chulainn.
"What a surprise," said Lancer, smiling ironically. "So they replaced me with a third-rate mage?"
"Nah. I'm just Plan B when you lose control." He winked cheekily.
Before Lancer could respond, the second spear was already in the air. A spell detonated on contact, and the shockwave threw him several meters back. When he got up, growling, his figure began to dissolve into smoke.
"Tsk... damn idiot... This isn't over."
And he disappeared.
The tension dissolved like a burst balloon. Mash fell to her knees, exhausted, while the protagonist ran to her side.
"You're okay! You're okay...!"
"I-I'm sorry... I wasn't enough..." she said, her voice trembling.
"What are you saying? You were incredible! We just... needed a little help," he replied, looking at her tenderly.
Caster landed beside them with a carefree gesture.
"What a pair of crazies... What are you doing here without guidance or backup?"
"I'd like to know that myself," murmured the protagonist.
Caster crossed his arms, looking him up and down.
"You're weird, kid. You don't smell like a mage, but you're not normal either... what are you?"
The protagonist swallowed. He had no easy answer... and he wasn't sure he wanted to give it yet.
But Caster just laughed.
"Doesn't matter. I like you. Come, I'll take you to a safer place. This area is infested with worse types than me."
The air smelled of ash and ozone. Mash breathed heavily, her shield still trembling slightly in her hands, covered in dust and small chips of concrete. Beside her, the protagonist maintained an alert expression, watching the man in the blue robe who had saved them seconds earlier.
The mysterious Caster turned towards them, his spear now resting against his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. His face, a mix of arrogant youth and wild wisdom, showed a lopsided smile.
"Relax, I'm not your enemy." He raised a hand. "If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation. And you wouldn't be breathing either."
Mash, still tensing her muscles, raised her shield warily.
"Who are you? Why did you help us?"
"Name: Cú Chulainn, Caster class this time, though I'm usually more famous with a spear." He shrugged with a sly smile. "Let's say I don't like seeing rookies die without understanding what the hell is going on."
The protagonist stepped forward, assessing his body language. Even though his prior knowledge told him he could trust him—at least for now—he opted for a neutral expression.
"And what do you know about this city? About this... anomaly?"
Caster narrowed his eyes and turned, walking slowly along the cracked street.
"Follow me. I'll tell you what I've learned. This place isn't the Fuyuki you know. Something or someone changed the course of history. The city was swallowed by fire and chaos. And that overflowed, affecting more than just Japan."
Mash walked behind him, her expression serious. The protagonist kept his eyes ahead, attentive to every word.
"The fire isn't the only thing burning here." Caster continued. "A corrupted Holy Grail was summoned, and with it... a dangerous figure. A Saber-class Servant, but not just any Saber."
Mash looked at him, confused.
"Saber? Who is it?"
Caster glanced at her, then looked at the protagonist, as if suspecting he already knew.
"A woman with golden hair and shining armor. But she's not a heroine in this timeline. She's a cursed sword, a king who fell into darkness. 'Alter history, eliminate witnesses, raze without mercy'... that's her mandate. And she does it well."
The protagonist nodded slowly. It was who he expected: Saber Alter.
"And is there any way to reverse this singularity?" asked the protagonist, his tone analytical.
Caster observed him for a moment and then smiled with approval.
"Straight to the point. I like it. There is a way, yes. If you manage to defeat Saber and neutralize the source of the corrupted Grail, this history could begin to correct itself. But I doubt you can do it alone."
The protagonist looked at him seriously.
"Then, will you join us?"
Cu Chulainn Caster crossed his arms, his smile sharp.
"I'll make a temporary contract with you. I like your attitude. You don't look like a mere rookie... you have the eyes of a strategist. But having brains isn't enough; you need strength."
He turned to Mash, his expression hardening.
"And you... you can barely lift that shield. Do you want to survive? Do you want to protect that boy? Then stop doubting and train."
Mash opened her eyes in surprise and lowered her gaze slightly. The protagonist placed a hand firmly on her shoulder, not harshly but with determination.
"Mash. You don't have to do this alone. I'll be with you in every battle. But if you want to be stronger... now is the time."
She looked at him, her eyes shining with a mix of emotion and determination. She nodded firmly.
"Understood. Train me, Lord Caster!"
Cu Chulainn smiled like a wolf.
"That's the attitude. Welcome to training hell. It won't be pretty... but you'll come out alive. Maybe."
The protagonist allowed himself a small smile as he watched the night of Fuyuki fall over the ruins, marking the start of their first real step toward saving the world.
Night had completely fallen over the improvised camp. The stars shone, indifferent to the tension floating in the air. A few meters from an extinguished campfire, Mash stood firm with her shield raised, panting from the effort.
"Focus, shieldmaiden!" Caster yelled, launching a burst of arcane fire that briefly illuminated the darkness. "Defending isn't enough. If you can't protect and resist at the same time, you're lost."
Mash blocked the attack with difficulty, her boots leaving a trail of churned earth as she retreated a few steps. Her shield vibrated from the impact.
The protagonist watched from a nearby mound, arms crossed and brow furrowed. He didn't intervene. He couldn't. Mash needed this.
"Again!" Caster spun his staff, and a chain of magical projectiles flew toward her. Mash barely had time to raise her shield before being forcefully pushed back.
"You can't keep absorbing damage without adapting," continued the Servant, his voice harsh but not cruel. "You're the last wall between your Master and the enemy. You can't fail. You can't hesitate!"
Mash growled, lowering her shield slightly, sweat running down her forehead.
"I'm not hesitating..." she said through gritted teeth. "I just... need... a moment!"
"The enemy won't give it to you."
Caster snapped his fingers, and a huge spear of purple energy began to form above his head, spinning with pure magical intensity. The protagonist straightened up.
"Caster..." he warned.
"Trust her," the Servant replied without looking at him. "If she can't activate it now, she won't when her life is on the line."
Mash trembled. The spear descended at high speed.
At that instant, her shield glowed.
A magic circle appeared beneath her feet, and an unknown energy flowed through her like a warm, powerful wave.
"Master...! I will protect your path!"
The shield grew, expanding in size and firmness. A translucent barrier of energy rose before her, intercepting the attack.
The explosion was deafening. The ground shook. Leaves and dust flew everywhere.
When the light dissipated, Mash was still standing. Trembling, exhausted, on her knees... but with the shield still raised.
The protagonist ran to her and held her before she could fall sideways.
"You did it," he whispered, smiling with relief.
Mash barely nodded, her eyes shining between fatigue and contained emotion.
Caster approached, crossing his arms.
"It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. Now I know we have a real chance." He looked at the starry sky. "We'll rest until dawn. Starting tomorrow, the real training begins."
Mash nodded weakly as she was helped to sit by the fire.
"Thank you... for not giving up on me..."
The protagonist smiled as he gave her a blanket.
"We never would."
The first rays of sunlight pierced the treetops, tinting the foliage with golden tones. The cool morning air mixed with the rhythmic sound of Mash's shield clashing against Caster's magical illusions. Training had resumed before dawn.
"Your stance is still too rigid!" Caster shouted from a nearby rock, moving his fingers with precision while creating ethereal projectiles to pressure Mash. "Flexibility! You're not a wall, you're a living shield!"
Mash rolled to the side, blocking a lance of energy that could have knocked her down just in time. Her breathing was heavy, but her movements were more fluid than the night before.
The protagonist, with an improvised map sketched on a piece of parchment, observed the scene and took notes. When Caster finally gestured to end the exercise, he approached the two.
"You're improving fast, Mash. And you," he looked at Caster with a tired smile, "should teach military training classes."
"I'd rather teach stray cats alchemy," the Servant huffed, turning with his robe fluttering behind him. "But at least we're not completely doomed."
Mash sat under a tree, wiping away sweat.
"What will we do now? If Saber is still in that fortress, sooner or later she'll locate us."
Caster nodded.
"Exactly. That's why we're moving. There's an old ruined monastery to the east. It's covered in mist and has a natural magical field that can hide our presence."
"And we'll train more there?" asked the protagonist as they began to gather their things.
"Not just that," Caster said with a sharp look. "We're going to plan our first serious move. Saber isn't alone. She has... allies."
Mash looked up, worried.
"What kind of allies?"
"Other Servants. At least two. One of them has already been scouting this area. A sniper with infamous aim and an even worse tongue." He clicked his tongue. "Archer. A lapdog loyal to the bone. He'll attack us before Saber if he detects our presence."
The protagonist nodded, already imagining who that Archer might be, but said nothing for now.
"So we have to defeat him before going after Saber?"
"Exactly," said Caster. "He's the first. Not just because he's a threat, but because hunting him will give us an advantage. If we eliminate him without alerting Saber, we can choose the timing of the next confrontation. If we go straight for her now... it would be suicide."
Mash lowered her gaze, thoughtful.
"And how do we face someone who shoots from a distance, someone we can't even see?"
"With strategy," the protagonist interjected with a smile. "If we know he'll come at us from a distance, we can choose the terrain. We can force him to get closer or trap him in a place where his advantage disappears."
"Hmm..." Caster glanced at him with approval. "Finally, you speak like someone who doesn't just survive, but plans to win."
The group set off toward the monastery in silence, each with their own thoughts.
Mash looked at her shield with a mix of respect and fear. The protagonist analyzed possible traps and cover zones. And Caster, walking with his staff as if it were a scepter, murmured formulas under his breath, already preparing spells to face a slippery opponent.
They knew Saber was the final enemy...
But Archer would be their first real test.
And they had no room for error.
The ruined monastery emerged from the mist like a stone ghost. Its walls were covered in moss, the towers collapsed, and the stained-glass windows, now shattered, let light filter through in thin, scattered beams. The air smelled of dampness, old incense... and something deeper, ancient.
"This place... has history," said the protagonist as he climbed the stone steps. "It feels... charged."
"You're not just feeling it," said Caster, placing his hand against one of the pillars. "The emotions imprinted here are so strong they materialize. Anger. Redemption. Sacrifice. Ideal for hiding from prying eyes... and excellent for a trap."
Mash followed closely, looking cautiously at every corner, as if something could jump from the darkness. Meanwhile, the protagonist had already pulled out a notebook and begun sketching a rudimentary map of the place and its surroundings.
"We need an area where Archer doesn't have total cover," he murmured while drawing. "There are several internal courtyards here, but they're too open. What about that section that looks like an old crypt?"
"Too enclosed. He'd escape easily if cornered," said Caster as he formed a small illusory image of the place with his magic. "But there's a natural amphitheater north of the monastery. It's a semicircle with ruins and collapsed columns, somewhat covered by vegetation. Archer has avoided that area... there's a faint magical resonance that disturbs his senses. That's why he doesn't approach from there."
Mash leaned over the map, interested.
"And that gives us an advantage?"
"It gives us a predictable battlefield," Caster replied. "He can only position himself in certain spots there if he wants to maintain visibility. With the mist and our abilities, we could corner him."
The protagonist looked at the indicated area... but then looked at another point, one none of them had considered yet: an old, half-collapsed cloister, covered by a partially caved-in roof, with semi-enclosed corridors and high walls. He took his pencil and began tracing lines.
"Here," he said suddenly.
"What?" said Caster and Mash in unison.
"The cloister. Archer couldn't position himself well to shoot from a distance. His firing angles would be limited, and the broken walls would create reverberations. Plus, we could ambush him from different corridors and manipulate his movement. If we provoke him enough, we'll force him to enter, looking for a clean line of sight."
Caster narrowed his eyes, thoughtful... and smiled.
"Unexpected... and smart. I expected you'd choose the amphitheater. But here we not only limit his advantages, we force him to play by our rules."
"What do you think, Mash?"
"It's risky... but if it works, we'll trap him where he least expects it. I agree."
"Then it's here," said the protagonist, marking the spot with a circle. "We need to prepare positions, escape routes, and distraction points. If he enters, he can't leave."
"Then it's time to share the details," said Caster, his expression turning more serious. "Listen carefully. I only faced him once, but it was enough to understand him."
Caster raised his hand and projected an ethereal figure of a man dressed in a dark robe with a sarcastic smile.
"Archer... I don't know his true name, but his style is a mix of advanced sorcery and mystical projectiles. He uses a bow that can transform into different forms and fires arrows reinforced with explosive runes. He doesn't need a direct line to cause damage; his shots can curve or ricochet."
"Weaknesses?" asked the protagonist.
"He relies too much on distance. And he spends a lot of mana on each powered shot. If we force him into close combat or make him fire repeatedly, we'll wear him down fast. Also, his arrogance betrays him: he likes to talk before attacking."
Mash sighed.
"So... we'll have to be fast, precise, and patient."
"And use his pride against him," concluded the protagonist. "If we provoke him enough, he'll enter the cloister of his own accord."
Caster nodded, conjuring a small flame in his palm.
"Then, let's hunt Archer. But not with brute force...
With strategy."
And so, within the walls of a monastery forgotten by time, the preparation for a silent hunt began, designed to face an enemy who lived in the shadows... and falling into them would be his downfall.
When everything was clear, Caster stood up, his robe fluttering in the wind.
"Well then, I'm going to have some fun." He snapped his fingers, and his staff glowed. "Get ready, this is going to be noisy."
The battle began with a roar of thunder. Caster appeared in front of the enemy monastery with magical fires dancing around him. He provoked Archer with cutting words, called him a coward, challenged him to a personal duel, and when the silver-haired Servant responded with anger, everything fell into place.
The chase was quick. Archer, blinded by pride, followed him to the agreed-upon location. But even trapped, he showed why he was a threat. His magical arrows shattered stone, and his words almost completed the verses before Mash intervened, shield high, deflecting each impact with difficulty.
The protagonist moved with surgical precision, attacking blind spots, using his Persona to launch curses of reduction and weakening. Itzamná, in the form of a spiritual sage, covered the field with protective runes and lightning that limited Archer's mobility.
Still, the battle dragged on.
Sweat. Screams. Magic. Pain. Coordination. Quick decisions.
Until finally, an opening. Caster immobilized him. Mash disarmed him. And the protagonist landed the final blow, a discharge of pure will compressed through his Persona.
Archer fell. His body faded like mist, leaving only silence.
They returned to the monastery. Tired. Wounded. But alive.
The air smelled of ozone and scorched earth as the group walked in silence under the dim evening light. The fight against Archer had been more demanding than they expected, even with the perfectly executed trap. Caster walked in front, his staff resting on his shoulder as if nothing, though his breathing betrayed his exhaustion. Mash walked beside Leonel, clearly worn out but with a spark of pride in her eyes. Leonel, for his part, mentally reviewed every detail of the fight, analyzing what worked... and what almost killed them.
Upon reaching the ruined monastery they used as a refuge, Caster was the first to slump against a collapsed column.
"Nothing like a good fight to wake up the spirit," he joked with a crooked smile.
Leonel barely smiled but didn't respond. He was about to sit next to Mash when a blue flash began to glow on his communicator.
"Romani?" he asked, hopefully.
Doctor Roman's projection appeared with an unstable but clear signal.
"Leonel! Mash! Finally, I've established contact... are you alright?"
"We're alive," Leonel replied with a slight, sarcastic laugh. "But barely."
Mash leaned toward the projected image, visibly relieved.
"Doctor, what's the status of the command center? And the others?"
Romani nodded, though his face showed concern.
"We managed to partially stabilize the Command Room. The damage was severe after the collapse, but we're recovering. Olga Marie is unconscious but alive. Her pulse is stable, and there are no signs of internal injury. However, the rest of the Masters... are in critical condition. None are in a position to rejoin operations. For now, you are the only ones who can act in the field."
Leonel exchanged a silent glance with Mash, then nodded.
"Understood. On our end, we managed to form an alliance with Caster," he said, nodding toward the Servant resting further back. "We've been assessing the terrain and organized an ambush to neutralize Archer. It was difficult, but we succeeded. Now we're recovering, and we already have plans for how to proceed with the singularity."
Romani was surprised but smiled with relief.
"Well done. That's... more than I could have hoped for, given the circumstances. Do you already know who's causing the distortion?"
"Yes," affirmed Leonel, his eyes serious. "Saber. Caster confirmed it. We'll head for her as soon as we're ready. But we're not charging in head-on. I have a plan."
Mash nodded firmly.
"With what we've learned, we can face her. We're not alone."
Caster raised a hand from his spot.
"Hey, just so you know! I want my time in the spotlight too, okay? Don't write me out of the script just yet."
Romani laughed softly, though the exhaustion on his face remained.
"Be careful. I'll do everything I can to support you from here. I'll be monitoring the signal. Good luck, Leonel... Mash... Caster."
"Thank you, doctor," said Leonel, lowering the communicator. Then he turned to the other two. "Rest for today. Tomorrow, we move out."
Mash nodded, and Caster gave a thumbs-up while already closing his eyes.
Leonel allowed himself a few seconds to look at the red-tinged sky. It was a destroyed world, a broken timeline... but little by little, step by step, they were fixing it.