"Fulgrim..."
"Mmm?"
"I'm curious... how did you know, that time, that Caliburn would only come out for the worthy?" At this question, a subtle smile appeared on the primarch's face, and his gaze held a silent answer. Artoria, perfectly understanding what the man meant, nearly stumbled. "Wait... you didn't know?"
"Of course not. How could I?"
Gears began turning in the girl's head, and they moved with a distinct creak. If the sword of selection doesn't become such when thrust into any stone, then... it could just be a sword in a stone! And all that was needed to pull it out was sufficient strength.
"So..."
"Artie, I thought we'd already sorted this out. Does it really matter if you could have pulled it out?"
The Queen pondered again. That magical moment when she and the primarch stood amid a whirlwind of golden sparks had been like a longed-for medicine for the hopelessly ill. It had given her hope again, given her new meaning. However, if Caliburn no longer selected the worthy to rule... Artoria felt herself plunging back into a pool of doubts. The question arose again: did she have the right to be king? Did she have the right to lead people? After all, last time everything had ended... disastrously, to put it mildly. But amid the dark thoughts, a ray of light appeared in the primarch's final words—"Does it really matter?" And indeed...
"No... I suppose not." A barely noticeable smile touched her lips. Like a flower, the golden-haired one bloomed; her slightly slumped shoulders straightened, and her gait regained its former confidence. Naturally, all adjusted for the warrior woman's understated body language and facial expressions. "Ow!" A sharp flick left a clear mark on her snow-white skin.
"There we go. Don't overthink it." Seeing that the "shock therapy" had finally cleared the girl's mind, the Phoenician smiled. And he swiftly dodged the retaliatory strike. He wouldn't fall for it again; past instances had shown that Artoria's hand was heavy. It had been enough for the primarch.
Ahead of the pair of Servants walked their Masters, under the vigilant watch of Vergil, who was in his ghostly form. School classes would soon begin, so they couldn't afford to be late. Shirou was currently in a somewhat bewildered state, so he noticed almost nothing around him; the situation with Sakura had genuinely alarmed him. As for Rin, who had caught a glimpse of what the mighty heroes were up to, she sighed inwardly. This wasn't how she had imagined the Servants. She had noticed for several days now that Saber and Archer had grown somehow close.
Fulgrim was always treating the warrior woman to tea, from which she positively melted. Those incomprehensible smiles and glances of theirs. And now, the warrior woman allowed the primarch to stroke her head, though the first time she had nearly severed his own. Intuition told her that something had happened between them when no one else was around.
"God, why don't you two just get married already?" Tohsaka muttered, so quietly only she could hear. Though she knew full well this saying applied only to ordinary people.
Both Fulgrim and Artoria clearly heard the girl's words and exchanged puzzled glances. Neither understood why the magus had suddenly started lamenting about it. Had they given any reason for such a thing? Normally, that turn of phrase was used for those who were close but hadn't progressed to full relationships. How did it apply to them?
And it was unclear to the only one among those present not in physical form. Anurosan, hearing the insolent girl, felt the urge to give her a proper spanking, but his primarch's reaction made him suppress his anger. The Phoenician wasn't angry, so his guardsman shouldn't be either. Then his thoughts shifted from the unforgivable insolence to its current manifestation. "Get married..." Vergil pondered deeply, for previously no one in the entire Imperium had even considered what would happen if one of the primarchs took a wife. Numerous factors stood in the way, from physiology to the degree of reverence for the Emperor's sons. But if it did happen, besides their father... the galaxy's greatest warriors would have a mother?! Something made the guardsman feel slightly queasy, and superhuman resilience couldn't help.
****
"See you later." Fulgrim said as a fork appeared in the road.
"Yeah." Rin didn't attach much significance to the primarch heading off for a stroll. During the day, there wasn't much to fear, after all.
At that moment, the Phoenician had gone shopping for groceries. Supplies in the Emiya refrigerator were starting to run low; after all, the number of mouths at his estate had greatly increased, so this needed addressing. Why had Archer gone shopping? Simple: until evening, the Masters would be in classes and unable to leave school grounds, and free time was best spent training. Artoria had once tried helping in the kitchen... after that, she wasn't allowed back in. She was better at eating than cooking; nothing to be done about it. Though Fulgrim had found the Queen's sullen pout upon realizing her culinary defeat quite amusing. She didn't like losing, but had to accept the fact. So she couldn't shop, not knowing what was needed at all.
Vergil... needed no explanation, nor did Tacitus. And going in pairs would be foolish, as weakening the Masters' protection was unwise. And now, the primarch strolled unhurriedly through Miyama toward the shopping district. He had the means, thanks to Homurahara's director for the year's salary in advance. Early in the morning, the streets were filled with people hurrying to work or school. In this stream, which wouldn't thin out anytime soon, a tall man of European appearance stood out sharply. This always happened when Fulgrim was among people. Several times, familiar children from the first ethics class ran past, greeting their teacher with bright smiles and eagerly asking what the next lesson would be about. One girl, with a rather serious expression, inquired about the "teaching aid" in the form of Shinji Matou. It seemed some didn't like the boy much, and likely not without reason.
With each minute, Fulgrim saw more details of early third millennium society. And the most striking thing was... fragmentation. Both in this city and the world at large. Most people cared only about securing resources for life, to a greater or lesser degree. There was no goal, no focus. The will of the people flowed away like hundreds of streamlets into nothingness, instead of forming a single raging torrent sweeping away any obstacles. This differed sharply from what the Phoenician was accustomed to, for in the Imperium, nearly everyone strove to realize the dream of the beloved Emperor of Mankind. Of course, there were many particulars, but nonetheless, the entire race acted as a single organism guided by his great wisdom.
As the primarch had come to understand, space travel technology hadn't developed to the degree it could have. The reason: resources concentrated in the hands of intelligences interested solely in increasing their profits. And space would yield profit only after decades. Human civilization's history before the Long Night was shrouded in fog, so no one knew when humanity would fully venture into space. "Maybe except Father." The Emperor's life before his appearance, marking the end of the Age of Strife, was known only to a small circle, and even the primarchs didn't know who their father had been before. Though rumors among humans held that he had been a protector acting from the shadows, safeguarding mankind for many centuries from threats until the Long Night forced him to reveal himself.
The noise and voices of shopkeepers interrupted Fulgrim's thoughts, signaling his arrival. Mentally reciting a rather large shopping list, the man set about doing something he hadn't done in nearly two centuries. The last times he had needed to acquire something himself had been in his distant childhood on Chemos. Half an hour later, effortlessly holding a couple of hefty bags, the man stood at a fish stall, selecting. The primarch's keen eye allowed him to identify the best specimens based on external signs: shine, color, smell. Having chosen those fish fortunate enough to become food for the lord of the Emperor's Children, he pointed them out to the proprietress.
"Oh, I don't recall seeing you before, young man. New to these parts?" The elderly woman said, handing over the bag of goods. Her face was covered in wrinkles whose shape testified to a habit of frequent smiling. Her squinted eyes had a slightly clouded hue, indicating her vision wasn't what it had been in her youth. At the kind old lady's question, Fulgrim politely smiled.
"Correct, quite recently. And how did you know?" The answer was obvious, but so was the woman's desire to chat. On a weekday morning, there weren't many customers, so Granny was bored. The primarch had plenty of time, so he didn't refuse the elderly woman her small joy.
"What, you think I'd forget a handsome fellow like you? Did you move here?" The old lady continued with a warm smile. She was clearly pleased to converse with such a well-mannered man.
"Just temporarily, until I finish certain... matters."
"Ho-ho, then drop by often while you're here. Good young men like you are rare these days. Wait a bit..." Granny rose from her folding chair with some effort and rummaged under the counter. "Here, take this." In her hands was a small bag of cookies. "My grandson promised to come help with the stall, but as usual, something came up. And my legs aren't what they used to be; I can't walk for long."
"Thank you..."
"Ah, right, call me Tamachi. I'm getting so old I forgot to introduce myself."
"Fulgrim, pleased to meet you." The primarch inclined his head slightly.
"And I'm delighted, little Fulgrim." If not for his self-control, the man would have flinched like from a blow; no one had ever called him that. "Unusual name..."
"It means 'water-bringer.' I was named after a deity from myths who unleashed the oceans from their banks, turning a lifeless world into a blooming paradise." The primarch was momentarily struck by his own candor; surprisingly, he saw nothing wrong with sharing this now.
"Wow, quite the tale. Did your parents believe you'd become like that too?"
"Oh no, hardly a god." Half-god, at most.
"I'm just teasing. Here." The grandmother nodded at the cookie bag. "Give the sweets to your beloved; delight a girl's heart." The look the primarch gave the treat was somewhat... indeterminate.
"But I don't have a... beloved."
"How's that?" The old lady was genuinely surprised. "A guy like you, without a girl? Not right. Life must be shared with someone, or it has no meaning. Trust me; I've seen it all in my time."
"...You said you needed help." After a brief pause, the primarch changed the subject. Such discussions felt strangely unfamiliar. He wasn't accustomed to pondering them. But the thought of aiding someone whose life was nearing its end felt... right.
"Yeah, get materials from old Fudo under the counter and patch him up. He's falling apart." And indeed, the threshold and floorboards of the small shop showed signs of imminent rot. They could give way any moment. "What, you want to help?"
The primarch merely smiled modestly. If any of his brothers saw this, they wouldn't recognize the proud Phoenician. And his next actions even less so. After a short walk to the neighboring carpenter's stall—thankfully, the man wasn't as talkative, though Fulgrim unexpectedly found himself unable to refuse conversation with the elderly—the primarch armed himself with tools from the storeroom. The work was done quickly, and now the floor wouldn't collapse under an unlucky shopper. Fulgrim ironically noted that he suddenly felt like Rogal. Though for such thoughts, the Seventh primarch might have punched him. And he knew how to punch.
On the way back, he waved to the sweet old lady, who thanked him once more. He couldn't understand what had sparked the desire to help, and in such a trivial matter. He simply... couldn't walk away upon learning no one planned to help Tamachi. Though it probably wasn't worth overthinking; pleasing Granny was always good. And the cookies needed earning. "And who should I give them to?" The thought cut off at the sight of familiar black hair in his peripheral vision.
****
"I must admit, I didn't expect us to meet under these circumstances." Tsurukawa Hinako said with an embarrassed smile. She had been at the market at the same time as the primarch. He had caught her in a rather... unflattering state. She was rubbing her head, half-sitting on the asphalt after falling for no apparent reason.
"Didn't you schedule our meeting for evening?" Fulgrim's impassive tone hadn't changed since the previous night.
"That's right; this is just coincidence."
"Like slipping on level ground?" The Phoenician raised an eyebrow expressively. And at that, a faint blush appeared on the girl's pale skin. Archer was very good at conveying thoughts through facial expressions. "Yesterday, you didn't strike me as such a klutz." Now, the light redness flared into a blaze.
"P-please, don't mention it." Saying this, she hastily rose from the pavement, brushing herself off. Once her appearance was in order, she continued the conversation. "It's not like I meant to seem mysterious, but one of my brothers advised it. First impressions, nuances, and such... he's quite the intriguer."
"Hm..."
"Please don't make that face. It's awkward enough..." Unable to speak normally, she whispered.
"It's hard for me to believe you ended up here by chance." The primarch's unreadable gaze swept over the girl.
"Can't I just go shopping? I need to eat too, like people." Hinako was somewhat indignant at the unfounded distrust; she hadn't done anything wrong. And the Gorgon attack had been for business, yes!
"...Never mind." Fulgrim turned to head to the estate, but...
"Um, please wait!" When the man turned back to Tsurukawa, she felt the intense gaze of purple eyes. They held a silent question. "If you have time, could we talk? Yesterday I mentioned I'm into history, but I've never heard of anyone with your name. So if it's not too much trouble..." The surprisingly meek girl said modestly. Assuming she wasn't pretending. She gestured toward a bench, inviting him to sit.
"... " Fulgrim sized her up with his gaze; he couldn't fathom her goal. Did she really just want to know his biography out of curiosity? "Why should I open up to you?"
"W-what? You owe me nothing; it's just a small request. If you don't want to, I won't insist." She even waved her hands to emphasize the denial.
Less than a minute passed in silence as the primarch sought any hint of hidden motive, but found none. The girl before him was young and couldn't even hold a poker face. Yet that very fact aroused suspicion. How had she managed to seize control of one of the Servants? Her abilities were unprecedented, based on this world's magic knowledge. But still, she likely posed no threat to a summoned being, nor did her current Servant. Besides, it was worth testing the ground before their impending collaboration. With such thoughts, the man sat, remaining silent and awaiting questions.
"So, where to start..." The young lady pondered briefly. "Judging by how you don't hide, your legend has no weaknesses, right?"
"No, it's simply unknown to anyone. I'm not from this time."
"Really?! So you're from the future?" A nod was her answer. "Incredible! How far? From what Medusa told me, I pegged you as some kind of knight." Fulgrim's power armor didn't reveal its technological nature from the outside, unlike Astartes plate.
"You wouldn't call me a knight, though I swore fealty to the Emperor."
"Emperor? There'll be an empire in the future?"
"Not an empire—an Imperium."
"What's the difference?"
"Scale. Humanity will span thousands of stars."
The ensuing dialogue proceeded rapidly. The girl was interested in the primarch's life, who he was, and what he did. He gave no detailed answers, but that only fueled her. True admiration—and even passion—shone in her onyx eyes. At some point, she forgot decorum and, in a burst of awe, couldn't restrain her voice. Like an impressionable child, Hinako wanted to learn as much as possible about the future. She didn't notice how she had scooted closer to the Phoenician than propriety allowed.
"Oops, sorry, I..." And again, the girl's clumsiness revealed itself. With a quiet slap, she hit the ground, having jumped too far from the bench. "...got carried away." Quite literally, landing in a puddle, so to speak.
Fulgrim couldn't suppress a chuckle. Last night he had formed a very different impression of Hinako, and now she had shattered it utterly, proving a hopeless klutz. The man extended a hand, which a moment later gripped a slender girl's wrist. The primarch helped her up, earning a grateful smile. Then she exhaled and regained her composure.
"Sorry again. Sometimes I lose self-control." Nervously twisting her fingers in clasped hands, she turned her head away. And blushed yet again.
"Don't worry about it." The man glanced at the shadows and gauged that time was shorter than desired. He hadn't bothered taking a watch, so to his shame, he resorted to this primitive method. "But try to focus tonight. Carelessness has doomed many." With that, Fulgrim left, leaving the quieted girl behind. She watched the primarch intently, paying no little attention to the platinum waterfall cascading over the Phoenician's shoulders.
"Yes, I know that all too well." A tender smile appeared on the black-haired beauty's lips, accompanying an equally tender whisper. She followed the man until he vanished around the corner. "And yet you were so cold to me until now, Fulgrim, hee-hee-hee." Finally, she covered her mouth with her hand to hide the emerging giggle.
****
"Didn't you think you're overdoing your influence on ordinary schoolkids?"
When class ended, Rin asked the primarch. It was as if he were teaching them not ethics, but trying to instill the Imperial Truths. And that wasn't an exaggeration; hints of that book's ideas slipped into his speech. Tohsaka had nothing against it per se, but it made her a bit uneasy. For Japan. Who knew what hotheaded youths embracing thirtieth-millennium ideology might do, even if they couldn't build a new Imperium. After all, he was teaching the son of the man who wrote the aforementioned work.
"I'm not doing it intentionally. Besides, they don't mind."
"As if they'd object; your effect on people doesn't even give them a chance to think for themselves." A somewhat unfounded complaint, since primarchs could—not control, but somewhat adjust the intensity. The "aura of authority" could develop in anyone strong-willed enough and ruling long enough. But for the sons of the Master of Mankind, it was innate and far more potent.
"I disagree, Rin. Fulgrim's teachings will only spur them to seek greater understanding." "And naturally, Saber sides with Archer. Something's definitely off with this war." Rin ironically noted she was a bit late to that conclusion. The Grail War had gone awry almost from the moment the future demigod was summoned.
The group headed home to make good use of the time before the next hunt. The magus already felt close to mastering a new spell; she just needed to practice it. Fortunately, she deemed school knowledge less vital than the mystery of azure flame, as the weave was named. A bit pompous, but better than "mystery of ionized gas" or "mystery of thermonuclear reaction." A touch of extravagance was fitting for mastering magus arts.
As for Shirou, another grueling training session awaited, this time with the Phoenician. A slight tremor accompanied him on the way but was dispelled by a question from the primarch.
"What about Sakura?" The youth flinched at the girl's name. Instantly, his thoughts shifted to the more pressing issue.
"I didn't notice anything, though I tried to stay close. Even in archery club, she acted normal." Ayako had been pleasantly surprised by Shirou's presence but attached no special significance, as she trained with unusual diligence, muttering, "Not good... Still inaccuracies... Not perfect." Emiya might be wrong, but he thought Mitsuzuri had taken the primarch's words on the path to perfection close to heart.
"We lingered too long." The Servants and Masters had deliberately stayed at school until club activities ended. In the meantime, Fulgrim had contacted Tacitus and ordered focus on city surveillance. The entity they needed to find didn't hide from cameras, so there was a good chance it would appear.
"Well, Sakura's coming for dinner; maybe we'll see something then." Rin still worried about her sister, but the morning talk with the primarch had given her some confidence.
By his involvement, he had shown he wouldn't ignore the matter. Besides... she might be mistaken, but the Phoenician seemed concerned for her. She didn't understand when they'd become friends; their acquaintance hadn't exactly started well. And that church incident should have worsened things, but no. Perhaps it was because Rin had liked what she'd seen in the dreams. The great goal toward which all humanity strove would leave only the most cynical egoist indifferent. But returning to the previous topic, the magus was glad to have on her side the one who had led a legion of the galaxy's finest warriors. Hundreds of conquered worlds attested to that. Under the Phoenix's own protection, there was nothing to fear.
***
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