<interim 1.0> fate/x AU-3H

< interim 1.0 >


As though there is a lot to visit in his comeback to his other hometown for the occasion, he picked to be in an estranged laboratory belonged to one of magus who’s affiliated with Atlas by the Great Bridge of Myrrdin, just before a small metropolis area of Hyrm-Ordelia.

His companion, an old friend, showed a disdain to such laboratory that the purple-haired man told him to go by himself to say whoever mad scientist resided there. He responded with a sly grin and finally go before the scholar of Gloucester started on his long speech.

Claude stood by the foot of the building, a washed-out one story building of history, promptly pulled the iron gate to close. There’s no longer security remained, only an empty box beside the gate, also the building felt more to a personal residence than a laboratory, while Claude knew the insides should stay the same.

He pressed the bell on the right side wall before the old mahogany entrance door.

“Is it you, Claude-kun?” even the voice remained somewhat same after five years, still cheeky, though with muffled noise. Perhaps the owner of the lab is eating some lollipop. Or it’s just the receiver that is wonky. “Come on in, the door is not closed.”

“You should learn to lock the doors properly sometimes, Hilda.” Claude chuckled.

“Well, don’t I have magic barrier for that? Not a low level magus and stupid spy familiars can enter my perimeter.”

“I’m glad I’m neither of them.” the man laughed.

.

After taking off his cashmere suit, he entered the perimeter to be greeted by a blue-haired Homunculus, who offered the suit to be hanged. He quickly declined.

Claude could tell right away it is one of the lab’s head creation as it retained the same features as when he had seen it last. Blue hair braided up to a compact hairstyle, tired eyes, tall stature, with somewhat meek expression. She wore something Claude can explain as frilly maid outfit of black and white today, guess it is also one of lab head’s whims.

It is, after all, designed after their deceased friend.

“Oh, you … don’t remember about me?” Claude asked after a moment.

“I remembered you,” she said. She flashed a small smile. “Mister Claude von Riegan. You don’t bring Mister Lorenz Hellman Gloucester with you.”

“He disliked this place,” the man shrugged. “So, where’s she, in the Lab 01?”

“Yes, please follow me.”


-


The Lab 01 is a lab located right after the underground passage. On earlier days, he would only go to Lab 02 by the surface and watched as his friend practiced alchemy. Alchemy is a branch of mage technology manned by Atlas faction of Mage Association. As Fodlan and Almyra mainly a Clock Tower headquarters, the user of alchemy and other thaumaturgy might be rare, though can’t be said if there’s none of them.

The oldest family that practiced alchemy, also an Atlas representative by Fodlan, is none other but Goneril Clan.

Hilda also one of some people who knows Claude’s goal, and Claude was sure to keep tabs on his friends, despite him being busy with affairs in Almyra after he graduated from Garreg Mach. He had said to his friends that he would be back for the Holy Grail, though no one else is joining the War except for him.

‘No one liked to fight an old friend, Claude.’ he recounted Lorenz’s words.

Beyond the foggy glass door, Claude could see Hilda sat by one of the chair, cluttering on something in her computer whie a standby pot and cauldron stayed not far from her. The overall condition of Lab 01 is cluttered, a lot of parchment, magic books, metals of several sizes, and pieces of Homunculus are scattered about.

Noticing the door is open, Hilda spun her chair to face the entrance, the female Homunculus from earlier bowed to Hilda’s presence.

Hilda was one with fashion, Claude remembered. And she is indeed wearing a expensive-looking blouse there below her white coat of Atlas engineers while keeping her pink long hair in neat even twin tails. Hilda ever said something about using white coat is lame, but she eventually adapted.

Having a lots of colorful pin badge on her white coat does gave her a vibe of lazy, good-for-nothing technician, but Claude knew better Hilda is not someone there for a mere show.

“Thank you for bringing him here Marianne-chan~” Hilda said. She popped out her lollipop. After excused Marianne to one of the unused pod, she glanced at Claude, who’s grinning ear-to-ear.

“And now, how’s the grown-up magus from Almyra doing here in my humble abode, hmm?”

“Why being so stinky? Or you’ve heard that my Servant has broken the Holy Grail War rules?” Claude winked.

“Yeah, earlier I got a guest from Church telling me that,” Hilda propped her legs up. The brown-haired man laughed dryly, news sure traveled fast.

“Nothing escaped other magi, huh. Even though you’re not a participant.”

“Bein’ nice with Church dogs will grant you free information, y’see.” Hilda chirped.

The Holy Grail War has yet to be started as the seven Masters and seven Servants has yet to assemble. It is said until yesterday, it is barely four of seven seats that is taken. The Grail seemed to be slow on picking, or whether the right person has yet to assemble. However, his Servant Lancer yesterday was out for blood and happened to battle other Servant, triggering the ley line security system to declare Lancer a penalty.

The Grail constricted Lancer’s Noble Phantasm use, and the information should’ve been spread by now that Lancer is weakened.

She pointed at the chair with mountain of books nearby. “Why don’t you sit, Claude-kun? You seem restless.”

“I won’t be long, Lorenz said something that other Masters might get to me sooner or later after the news of penalty,” Claude scratched her neck. “I want to borrow one of your Homunculus to help me.”

Hilda picked up one of the available board from her table, skimming the content, “Sure thing. I think you can get the pod 2-A from the storage, Marianne-chan will guide you. She’s a reinforced combat type so use it as you deemed fit, mmkay?”

“Thank you, you’re a big help~”

Hilda shot Claude with a knowing look, before she reverted to a sweet smile. Claude watched as Hilda scrambled on some papers. It is hard to ignore how Hilda was skinnier than how she was, or whether there’s dark circle below her eyes, concealed with a little make-up.

Claude, however, can’t take too much time on catching up. Time’s the essence.

“Say, Hilda.”

“Hmm?”

“You really don’t want to try become a Master? There’s still some Masters’ seats. Maybe there will be an answer to Holst’s death in the last War.” Claude said. “I mean, I know you might not show it, but-”

Hilda wasn’t looking at his way, her interruption is abrupt, “Come on, Claude-kun. It’s all in the past,” her tone was light. “He died as a hero, there’s nothing more to it.”

“... I see.”

Hilda switched off the pod where Marianne is, the pod is opened once more and Marianne went on standby, ready to guide Claude.

“Good luck in the upcoming War, Claude-kun. Just call me if you have won.” Hilda snickered, waving her hands. “We might share a great feast just like the old days.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He felt a weight off his chest, however. It’s just as Lorenz said, Hilda is still Hilda. Hilda really never changes.


-


Marianne is back later to the lab with the report about Claude and the activation of said Homunculus. Hilda recorded everything Marianne had said then dismissed her, telling her if she wanted to go back in the pod and rest for the day.

Marianne, 01-C, is an old model, her first prototype, Hilda has yet to find a way to restore its full power without rewriting its memory. Its function is more to a helper robot now while Hilda told Marianne to be autonomous. Perhaps a crystallized core with better ‘soul’ purity would be needed, though it is better for her to focus on something else in hand.

“You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

Hilda didn’t answer to the voice. The floating maiden materialized beyond the cluttered long table that Hilda usually used to set down her specimen, as though asking for the Master’s attention.

“Your high Mana won’t be detected here because Goneril’s Bounded Field, really. He won’t suspect a thing.” Hilda leaned back to her seat, she stretched her legs to the study desk. “Caster.”

Her white tattered coat afloat, inside the oversized white coat, purple robe concealed the pulsating muscles of red and purplish reaching to her neckline like an overgrown vines on Caster’s pallid skin. Hilda scanned as ‘Crest’ flowing within. The snow-haired Caster was not amused, or so Hilda can guess from her frown.

The former guest of hers, a Church representative that oversee the current Holy Grail, was also unaware of the presence of Caster. Her Command Seal is hidden enough for anyone to conjure her Master degree. She should be safe from anything, unless Assassin-class Servant spied on her residence.

Then again, everything can be manipulated.

“That Riegan boy from earlier, is that what you said about taking power from the moon?”

“Yup, yup. His Clan is kinda Moon Cell Engineer. They said about a skill of drawing miracles or something … though Claude doesn’t really like how it sounded.” Hilda explained. She opened a new batch of lollipop.

“Want some?”

“... As much as I wanted sweets, I’d prefer Mana right now.” Caster quipped, visibly hinted of something, but Hilda rolled her eyes, feigning ignorance. “But oh, well. Let me have those.”

The Servant before her, Caster of yet unknown origin, has a great Mana pool just like any other Caster classes ever recorded in history. Though, as the Grail concealed some of the Servant statuses due to the ‘damage’ by the ley line, the data gathering will be harder. Caster has unique ‘Crest’ thaumaturgy implanted in her, in which Hilda tried to research to find its actual use and maybe a hint to her origin.

“Anything caught your information web of another four Servants?” Hilda asked. Caster was silent for a bit.

“Nothing new, I think? Saber’s Master retired to Remire’s second layer after Lancer’s attack. Archer’s Master … that Church dog from earlier, she should be concentrating around Hevring-Bergliez territory. I haven’t yet to spot Berserker, Rider, or Assassin.”

The pinkette responded with a long hum. Three Master-Servants have yet to be unveiled, but then this is the last day of Servant summoning. Or those Masters are far trickier than how Hilda is.

Caster floated nearby Hilda’s desk, making her space toward the cobweb of parchment. She looked like to enjoy the sweet treat, then, “… It seems you have yet another magus guest.”

“Hmm? Today sure is lively, huh. Is it a Master candidate?”

“I don’t know, but she smells quite similar like that dog,” Caster paused. “She even got Black Keys with her.”

An inquisitor affiliated with the Church, then, Hilda mused inwardly. The one with Black Keys as a weapon is usually someone from the Church, but knowing that a representative was there before, Hilda thought this new guest shouldn’t be of a same affiliation - or she tried to mingle with such identity.

It’s not like her laboratory is a hidden natural wonder, Goneril Clan is always open for anyone who wanted to visit. She knew all too well that they are not ones interested in alchemy, mostly it is the information gathering and whatnots.

“Wait, shouldn’t you be careful?”

“I can protect myself, Caster, don’t worry,” she chuckled, dismissing Caster with a wave of hand. “You’d swallow her anyway if she harmed me, nee?”

Caster scrunched her nose at the remark, “I’m not such a glutton like the rank said about me.”

Marianne wasn’t close to call, so Hilda dragged her feet away from her study to answer the door.

.


Hilda opened the door to a fine young lady later, dressed in jet black business suit with a dark blue necktie. Her short blonde hair is striking, like an eyesore to crowd, just like her pink ones. She wore black gloves, and Hilda didn’t see a sign of Command Spell on both palms. Just like what Caster had said, she is not a Master. Yet, Hilda can’t shake a tinge of suspicion.

The blonde woman was polite, almost close to any noble or maybe she ever worked below a noble family, though Hilda could be mistaken. When Hilda prompted for her to come in, she declined, saying that she won’t be long.

“I hope you’re not here as one of those knife seller, amrite?” Hilda joked.

“You should’ve known better that I’m an Inquisitor, Professor Goneril.”

“Cease the formalities, I’m not my brother.”

“But-”

“Are you here to ask me of an information, or just want to inspect whether I’m hiding something unknown to the Church?”

“No, well. Catherine-dono has been here before, correct? I’m here of my own accord, not with the Church.”

Hilda tapped her feet, feeling a bit impatient. “Spit it.”

“Do you know someone by the name of Sylvain Jose Gautier from Garreg Mach?”