The control room was empty and darkened when Waver entered, all but a single screen were offline. And over that beeping control panel, there was the sleeping form of one Romani Archaman. He had stayed late trying to figure out some coordinates, and, honestly just to make sure next time he would operate the equipment faster. Near his right elbow, there were two empty energy drinks, while another had slipped past the panel and was currently beside his foot.
If he had gotten any sleep in the past week, perhaps he wouldn't need to resort to them. If he hadn't been so stubborn, he would have gone to bed as he had promised to Da Vinci last night. But instead, he had to make an embarrassment of himself and was awoke by the sudden intrusion and mention of his name.
"Eh? Leonardo-What? Are we under attack?!" He stirred with a bolt and frantically looked around. The control room was empty and a familiar man was looking (glaring?) at his direction. "Oh, uh, uhh--- Lord El Melloi II?" He stared dumbfounded because honestly, that sight should be impossible right now. With Chaldea isolated from the world. And the world--
"I must be still dreaming," he muttered with a bitter smile, reaching to pinch his cheek. He had to wake up. No times for daydreaming about playing video games.
"I assure you," Lord El-Melloi II replied in a stern, clipped tone. "You are most certaintly not dreaming, and I am most certaintly not above taking advantage of this nonsense of having the abilities of a Heroic Spirit to demonstrate that fact."
The response that Roman gave was instructive on many levels. First and foremost, it gave an idea of close co-worker relationships within Chaldea (DaVinci had been...interesting). Secondly, it suggested a certain level of being left alone to do late nights and fall asleep in the office that was painfully familiar. But the question about attack, that made clear the situation might be more threatening than anything Lord El-Melloi II had come to understand so far.
His eyes drifted to the good doctor's stash of long since consumed energy drinks. The man was surely was wise enough not to survive off of those and those alone, right?
The pinching had hurt, therefore he wasn't dreaming. This had to be a joke. The work of a shapeshifting Servant? Did they have one of those with a high Self-Modification skill? His grogginess wasn't helping him to think clearly. "H-How-- It shouldn't be possible," Roman pointed out plainly. Wait-- did he just say Heroic Spirit? He glanced over his shoulder and tapped a key to notice there was a Registered Saint Graph (well, two, but Chaldea had his hidden under lock) in the Control Room. His eyes widened. "T-That's impossible! How are you a Servant?!"
He was probably was confused as Waver was for the time being. Of course, there were explanations that immediately came after his fatigue made him overreact. One was that he was a Guardian, but such wasn't the case when he read the clear name of the registered Spirit. Roman sighed heavily. "Oh, you're an irregularity." A Heroic Spirit inhabiting a human vessel who wasn't a Ruler? That was new but, he could roll with it.
He waited until the awkwardness subsided to greet him.
"I apologize for the delay, but welcome to Chaldea," he said with a sheepish smile, "I'm sure you have many questions."
"I can give you the summary of my questions, or the numerical list," he responded. Roman's reaction was not reassuring. In fact, it only fed into the anger that had built up in the pit of Lord El-Melloi II's stomach and threatened to finally explode. The young man (he was still younger than El-Melloi II was) reacted with grogginess and the word irregularity. The latter was just rude, all things considered.
"The summary is simple, Dr. Roman. What the fuck?"
Lord El-Melloi II folded his arms across his chest, eyeing Roman with the same kind of look he would usually afix Flat with after something tremendously stupid happened. And yet, Flat was unpredictable. Roman probably needed to know at least one thing, and it was with a moment of relenting his anger that Lord El-Melloi II added something simple.
Of course, he wasn't all that reassuring, Roman still couldn't read the air. He still had certain emotional hurdles he never grew out from. Still, he tried to be as friendly as possible, thinking this must be very confusing. No, he realized the poor man must be more confused than he was.
What had been Da Vinci doing if she hadn't filled him in with anything? He nodded and wished his Master was here instead, the Master should be the one who handled Servants, not Roman. But this was a special case.
"I see," he answered while the system registered the name automatically, "But I'm not speaking with Zhuge Liang, right? You're Lord El Melloi II." He wanted a confirmation, but he was certain that his familiarity and his anger wouldn't make sense, he would just function as a Servant. "This is the first time we summoned uh, should I call you a Half Servant or maybe would you prefer a Pseudo Servant?" he asked nervously, knowing this wouldn't be very comforting. He just opted to be sincere here, it was more efficient that way.
In truth, Lord El-Melloi II had only half listened to DaVinci's explanation. There had been too much internal processing of what was going on for him to offer the servant his full, undivided attention. It would prove to be a mistake in retrospect, but Lord El-Melloi II's usual foresight was clouded by simply coming to grips with the situation he found himself pulled into.
Summoned into.
"Whatever you want to call it is irrelevant. My understanding is that I have his abilities and my own body, make up the vocabulary as you wish," Lord El-Melloi II replied hotly. He reached into his coat pocket, praying that his cigar case would still be there. If he was summoned to the end of the world without that? He'd happily change class and become a Berserker instead.
"Was this Chaldea's end goal, Roman? All three of you, before this...this disaster or whatever the fuck you're calling it?"
Roman nodded, thinking on the matter briefly. "Pseudo Servant would be the best," he declared and less confusing to not overlap the label with Demi Servant which was another matter entirely. Ah-- His smile waned when he was asked about Chaldea goal.
He cleared his throat. "This organization was established with one purpose in mind," he announced, his soft voice made it less dramatic than should be, "We're here to ensure the preservation of human civilization. At least that was the original goal of the late director."
It was natural to be suspicious, he understood that very well. "Something has... happened in the past which has put the future at stake, that's why we're trying to fix that." That was the simplest explanation. "Heroic Spirits were," he paused, looking at him tiredly. "I suppose you wouldn't know, but their original purpose wasn't to be summoned to fight against each other for the sake of human greed, they were supposed to be summoned to save the world when the human order is in danger."
All of Roman's calm explanations were denying Lord El-Melloi II any path to tear into the entire concept of Chaldea for landing him here in this situation. It was likely for the best, but the fact that Lord El-Melloi II had not begun to even make a pretense at sitting down reflected the fact he was still furious.
He kept listening. And kept an ear out for anyone else entering the control room.
"Was it anticipated at the outset that this past mistake was going to bite humanitiy in it's collective ass, or just a theory that Marisbilly decided to bank on in a massive wa....wait."
His eyes narrowed. Late director. "By director...how long has Marisbilly been dead for?"
Roman's smile turned a touch more nervous, but he was glad at least his old acquaintance was getting his bearings. He must have sounded unreliable, or so he assumed with his low self-esteem. This is why Ritsuka should be doing this. Ahh. He expected at least an insult or two, so this was better than he anticipated.
Questioned about the crisis, he sighed deeply. He wished he knew what was happening as well.
"I don't know, Chaldeas..." His eyes flickered to gaze at the floating replica of the World's Soul in front of the control room. Instead of frozen or burning as would have been in the other crisis another Chaldea faced, the sphere color had dulled. "Became inert like this. There aren't lights outside this building, almost as if civilization had disappeared and little by little, the past is also disappearing, we are trying to restore it." There were no singularities to travel to, they had to intervene in the past itself.
He scratched his head and looked back at him to answer his last query, "Yes, he passed away about five years ago. His daughter, Olgamarie, was made the director but when this began, she had been called by the Clock Tower before we lost contact with the outside world. Professor Lev became the Director in her absence, but he-" His paled to remember when they found Lev dead in his office. Suicide, apparently. A large number of people panicked and left the premises, and they also lost contact with them.
"So you pulled me into your farce instead of letting me be with my students who doubtlessly could be helping right now," Lord El-Melloi II finished coldly. His gaze was on the great Soul as well, lips pursed, eyebrows narrowed with no small amount of disapproval on his face. It let him hide the fact that what Roman just said suggested that Gray was in serious danger, and likely worried about him. Reines was...well, probably fine, as was Flat, but the rest of the classroom might not be as well off as the Archibald Princess and Flat.
If anyone was okay in this, it'd be Flat.
His mind stayed on Gray, even as Lord El-Melloi II managed to have enough sembelence of deceny to say, "Sorry to hear of those passings, especially with regards to Marisbilly."
Had Lord El-Melloi II known of the real relationship between Marisbilly and Roman, both Roman as Solomon and as Roman, there would be far more sympathy. As it was, Lord El-Melloi II indulged himself in being self centered.
"Dismiss me as a servant and let me get back to doing work in the world, not at the end of it."
For the moment, the doctor did not focus on the loss he experienced without Marisbilly. How did a Servant feel to outlive their Master? Even though he was no longer Solomon, there was bond forged between them that had been unique, as typical with those relationships went. It was just unnerving. It was the Servant who should have been the one helping their Master until their time is up, then vanish from the present. He lowered his gaze and uttered a quiet "thanks".
But for the rest-
Roman opened his mouth, but the string of excuses about how he didn't choose him to be summoned (nor the Heroic Spirit whom they had no catalyst to pull) all but died on his lips. He inspected his expression carefully. The cold voice. The way his eyes narrowed and his face contorted in displeasure. All signs of anger, but also... of frustration. Perhaps in another Chaldea, Roman would have lowered his head and take this just as a sign of what he deserved in his deep self-loathing, he never expected people to like him, but the opposite, it was only natural to hate and blame him. He didn't shoulder the secret guilt to scar him now. His time as a human being had been relatively spent in freedom until Marisbilly's tragic accident. This allowed him to read people, just a bit better, than he would be able to.
He was worried. About his students, he realized. That perhaps only he was the one saved.
He straightened his shoulders and rose with a serious expression. He bowed, one of the habits he picked in Japan during his journey. "I apologize for my lack of experience that brought you here, Lord El Melloi II, perhaps in the future we'll be able to reunite you with your students," he said, although he didn't want to make false promises, hope was fine, even for a pessimistic man like Romani. "However--" He lifted his face and straightened. Roman disliked confrontation, preferred his cowardly retreats to avoid upsetting people. Nonetheless, he was acting as the leader now. He had to show some resolve.
"This is no farce. Humanity is facing extinction. And, as irregular this is, you're housing a Heroic Spirit that could help us- no, help the world. So I have to ask you, as acting Director of Chaldea to help us, help humanity, to solve this. " He chose his words carefully next and gave them the weight to not just appeal Waver's sense of ethics, which if he remembered he had those, but also as a magus. "It is in my power to assign this ordeal as a 'Grand Order'."
Grand Order. The highest order of mission carried out by magi.
"If it is within your power to assign that kind of a designation, then be smart and get answers for yourself too."
Lord El-Melloi kept his gaze away from Roman. It helped him concentrate, to calculate, to find some way to deal with all of this. The world might be ending, but it was still a farce. Stupid. Just...stupid. He wasn't articulate right now, and a real fight about this required Lord El-Melloi II to actually argue rather than repeat the same words out of fruseration time and again.
"You don't know what happened at Clock Tower. Send me to London to do reconissance and see if any allies remain. If this...situation...has been forced upon me, then that same power should be more than enough to keep me safe."
The suggestion wasn't subtle. Roman had read the concerns on Lord El-Melloi II's face for what they were, but he also was willing to bank that the silence from Clock Tower and Olgamarie in specific was something that truly did need to be followed up on. If Roman was smart, if Roman had learned from Marisbilly and Lev, he'd agree, banking on any survivors being enough to actually keep Lord El-Melloi II from refusing to help further.
Again, Lord El-Melloi II reached into his coat pocket, this time finding his cigar case. He fished it out and opened it as a matter of habit. Roman had gotten a little bit of steel in him in the last ten years, that much was admirable and likely needed in a place with stronge personalities and stronger magecraft users.
"And answer this. How many other situations have you designated Grand Order to in Chaldea's time?"
Roman suppressed his first instinct - to be honest about how pointless that quest was. The urge to tell him that members of the staff had physically left and they lost contact with them and that Chaldea was in perfect isolation. That their power went down before it became mysteriously restored. Sometimes, he had come to understand, humans needed white lies to continue their existence. To have hope.
It never occurred to him how humanity received the news of the world's end. He had seen that sight so many times in the past. His eyes had picked up the pruning of countless timelines and thought nothing of it. It was an effective system clean up job, while, by his side, the pillar demons grieved and demanded him to change that fate. The fate of those lost, and those who died, in the present and the past, and the ones who lost even that.
He only understood the weight of loss after Marisbilly's passing. Five years ago, he spent nearly a week locked up and throwing up his food without knowing why he couldn't eat, why he couldn't sleep, work or think. In those dark days, Lev had stayed with him, worried about his remaining friend's health. That was when, in his loneliness, Roman had told him his secret. Marisbilly was gone from this world, did he have any right to continue to live as he did without his former Master?
Lev was gone now. He had no time to mourn him or to be able to understand why he took his own life when they needed him the most.
"All right," he conceded with a softer voice, after weighing it if it was good for Waver to go there. If there was a 'there', and if it wouldn't just be a waste of their resources. He didn't know how he would react if he lost hope. It would be easier if he had let him shoulder his burden. "I'll authorize you, but only after you assist Chaldea's Master in the next assignment." It was a bargain he thought necessary before he confronted the hopeless present reality.
He wanted to give him hope he could turn things around first.
When he fished his cigar case, his gaze fell on it and was about to inform him this isn't a smoking allowed area when he came with his second query. Despite the solemn situation, he gave a sheepish short laugh. "You caught me. This would be my first one in Chaldea's time."
Lord El-Melloi II, not Caster, not yet, anticipated that he would be sent out with Chaldea's chosen Master before being given permission to go to London. The fact he had to bargin at all, that his will was subservient to another's in such a direct way caused nothing but the usual distaste Lord El-Melloi II had for authority, but he had calculated this far.
"Acceptable," he said, going about the process of lighting the cigar. If Roman was about to say something about no smoking, then Lord El-Melloi II was ready to be a prick about there being a lack of no smoking signs.
This was the worst part of being a Servant, wasn't it? Restricted freedoms, and all the more so with quarters being tight. He had investigated a few key facilities in attempts to calm down after being summons (there were video games, thank God), but Lord El-Melloi II knew himself. With uncertainty hanging over his students and all of London, this was to be an endurance trial.
Other possibilities had eclipsed Lord El-Melloi II in his anger. The hope of reunion being the most important, for if he could be summoned, then Iskandar could as well.
"Mm, but it was a term you anticipated using eventually."
If Chaldea was built for this situation, then there were likely guidelines for when to use it. Cigar smoke began to circle around Lord El-Melloi II, and finally his gaze returned to the doctor.
Roman would have pointed out it was frankly impossible to simply use 'Caster' to address him because it would be very confusing when there were other Servants of the same class in Chaldea. In these circumstances, concealing his identity was more trouble than it was worth.
"Eh--Excuse me but," he said, holding his hand up to wave some of the smoke away, "It's forbidden to smoke here." He would scold him about how bad that was for his health if he wasn't a Servant. "If you want, we can go to the smoking room or another area that allows it." The small greenhouse he made years ago for example. A change of setting would help the new arrival to become more familiar with the premises.
He scratched the back of his head. How should he answer that? "I'm just your run on the mill doctor, Lord El Melloi II," he reminded him - reminded himself as well- with the too familiar self-depreciation. "I'm only saying this in name of those who entrusted me with this temporary position."
"Another area would be preferable then, unless there's anything else here required for a more in-depth introduction to this situation."
He was dropping strong vocabulary to describe how it felt to be walking around Chaldea, which meant that for now, his anger was down to a simmer instead of boiling over and splashing everyone in the metaphorical kitchen. In an effort to be polite, Lord El-Melloi II shifted his body as well, ensuring Roman would be downwind from the smoke. It took little effort and hopefully it would spare him lectures about health. He was well aware, and the cigars primarily served a function.
But at Roman describing himself as being a run of the mill doctor, Lord El-Melloi II snorted.
"Bullshit," he said. "You've been around mages for ten years, that much has been demonstrated to me already. More than that, you're the man in charge of the control room and this entire organization. Temporary or not, you're the defacto leader here. Moreover, you have been here since the beginning with the other founders. The notion you don't know something like the fact that Grand Orders were something Chaldea didn't anticipate from the beginning rings awfully hollow to my ears."
Lord El-Melloi II paused just for a moment, puffing a single smoke ring. "You're unique in where you stand, Doctor Roman. There's no value in downplaying it. Own the fact, as making a point of it will be needed down the line."
"That is, if you don't mind, I can suggest a less inorganic area too," Roman nodded, knowing these sterile white walls would take a toll on people's mental health sooner or later. That was why he made that secluded garden with Marisbilly's permission. It wasn't the only room he designed, there was another one, but it was unstable to visit.
The doctor smiled and gestured for him to follow him. His back was thus half turned when he assessed him in such borderline praiseworthy way. I don't want to, he wanted to retort, feeling the grip of stress by all these new responsibilities he had to overtake. Why did Lev leave him in charge? There were certainly more people capable than Roman. There was no sabotage in this timeline, and while a lot of their higher-ups left with Olgamarie for London, a few engineers had stayed behind. Was it because he knew who he used to be?
"At the worst scenario, we anticipated a minor order," he explained, averting his gaze first before he worked up the courage to meet his gaze. "I don't think I'm that special, but switching the Order gravity was probably my call."
He could admit that much now, hurrying to whirl around and not meet his gaze anymore. Lord El Melloi II was sharp, and now merged with Zhuge Liang, his observation was probably keener. This was going to be difficult when Roman's favorite hobbies were eating cake, browsing net idols blogs and downplaying himself.
"Lead on." Lord El-Melloi II had no problem with getting out of the control room. It was a place that set his teeth on edge for no particular reason that could be articulated. All Lord El-Melloi II knew was that he did not care for it and would much rather be free of the place.
Trailing behind Roman at an appreciable half-step, Lord El-Melloi II listened carefully to the doctor's response. The statement about only expecting a minor order seemed true enough, but not entirely. There had to be an inkling, no mater how remote the possibility. But that was not a statement and an argument worth pursuing, and the way Roman held eye contact was far, far more concerning.
"Roman," he said, the sternness in his voice giving way to something that put years on El-Melloi II. It wasn't exhausted, but it had the quiet I've seen some shit tone. "You know my reputation at Clock Tower is that I can identify an individual's skill set and then bring it to it's greatest strength, right?"
He brought it up to make a point, but Lord El-Melloi II wanted to see if Roman would get to it first.
Roman never voiced his possible discomfort with the control room, but he had associated it with some of his worst memories. That too was a cowardly side of him. It was the place he couldn't run as easily, where he had to make decisions when he would rather skip that.
The small green area was located in between the staff chambers and the control room but on a level above. It was the most organic spot of the otherwise sterilized organization, a mix between a park and a greenhouse. "Here we are," Roman announced cheerfully, stretching his arms and taking a long breath. "I thought this area would help those members of staff who face anxiety. There is a simulator, and we have a cinema screen, but sometimes we want to touch the real thing." Getting locked up surrounded by a frozen landscape for years could take a toll even with the strongest of mind. He gestured him to sit on one of the benches to continue their conversation.
Of course he had heard him, he just wanted to delay the topic so he wouldn't be speaking of this in the hallway with the rest of Chaldea watching.
"I know of your talent," he finally said, smiling, "I'm neither a magus", he said, almost feeling bad for lying (although he had no magic circuits right now), "Nor your student."
There is a part of Lord El-Melloi II that wonders how wise it is to have a burning ember in a green house, but the rest of him dismisses the concern outright. There are Heroic Spirits everywhere. A fire would be a non-issue, and he has never been stupid enough to ash fall anywhere that could catch flame.
His eyes linger as they enter the green house, taking the place in. His pale skin was enough to say that being outdoors was never a great priority, but between this and the rest of Chaldea, the need for it was obvious. God willing, Lord El-Melloi II could use any downtime in Chaldea to work through a backlog of video games, but he knew how chaotic Grail Wars were. A proper Grand Order would not allow for such a thing.
"It's very well kept," he said, taking a seat. Looking up at Roman, Lord El-Melloi II let out a dersive snort. He missed the point
"I wouldn't wish either on you. The purpose of the reminder was that I can see you do have the abilities, and denying that fact around me is utterly pointless. It borders on annoying."
The green area still an artificially controlled environment that would detect the forgotten embers, nonetheless Roman trusts that El Melloi wouldn't be careless to let that happen. He sits down and slowly stretches his atrophied limbs. He's spent too many days locked up in that control room, and it shows.
"Ah, I see I see, that must be how you realized my potential as video game player," Roman points out in other to move the topic from any serious abilities and to make him feel at ease. "I've practiced, you know, even if it's expensive to ship new releases to our location."
"...Honestly," Lord El-Melloi II began, a little discomfort in his voice. "No. I was initially very annoyed that my day was interrupted and hoped that I'd find a way to occupy you while I got things done."
The embarrassment was clear enough. "But if you've practiced, then we need to examine that together when you're not in that control room."
Something said that Roman out of the control room was a rare occurrence, but the gesture was far more important than the act itself. Either way, Lord El-Melloi II was aware that topics had shifted, and he glanced over Roman's entire person before clicking his tongue. He understood not wanting the position that one had.
"I thought so," Roman answers automatically with a small smile and unconcealed amusement, "Don't worry, I remember being excitable during those days. I would probably annoy myself now." He has a lot of patience to spare in order to keep Chaldea running as it does. He takes his self-depreciation with good humor.
When he offers to play with him (he's no fool to not recognize a poorly worded excuse), his eyes widen. He's never expected him to actually want to spend time with him willingly. "Really?" he utters more startled than he has wanted to show.
His next question is hard to face. "I'm a chicken, so it's natural that I want to run away and hide," he admits openly. That is the only thing he can be honest with everyone. "I didn't think I'd had to become the leader here, it's..." Stressing, familiar, he wants to meet expectations, but he's so afraid he is losing himself he if becomes the leader they need him to be. He can't tell Waver this. He pushes a strand of his hair anxiously. "You think I have the potential," he wonders aloud, and shows he's paid attention to his observation, "But not everything is a natural talent, Lord El Melloi II."
It's really hard for him to concede he's probably not a bad choice to be the acting Director, nonetheless, what makes him miserable isn't administrating but facing up with choices that ultimately upset people.
"Perhaps. But I enjoyed the day in the end. It was a nice and much needed break, and I continue to be astounded that none of my students appeared to ruin it."
The words left Lord El-Melloi II's mouth a little too quickly, and they sent him into a stunned silence. Everything was a reminder that he didn't know their status beyond Chaldea's walls, and that was still a source of anger. Anger that had just abated moments before.
He was angry. But it was harder to direct it at Roman now, at least, harder to do it and not come off as the horrible nineteen year old brat he hated. He wouldn't inflict that on anyone.
He managed to nod in confirmation to Roman's really?, because that was something to focus on. Lord El-Melloi shifted in his seat, eyes on Roman and the small laurel tree just behind him. There. Focus.
"It isn't a matter of think," he corrected with what was for him a normal degree of frankness. "You've already demonstrated it. There are also trite quotations about those who are best suited for power usually shy away from it, but as I said, they're trite. So I'll say this instead: there is nothing I loathe more than my status in Clock Tower because it invites unwanted and undesired attention. I would never compare myself to poultry," just slaughter it to summon Alexander the Great, "But I do understand the impulse."
He's astonished for a second. All these years, after looking back to his previous behavior, he's assumed he had annoyed him that day. He's almost embarrassed to face his misunderstanding. But he hasn't contacted them again, despite his invitation to Chaldea, what else he's supposed to assume?
Does this mean I made a new friend? he thinks, musing about that, something exciting but also scary after he lost his two closest friends.
"I wouldn't say no to you if you want to play," he finally says, grinning from ear to ear. "I don't know how my schedule will get, but you're also welcome to borrow my console if I can't make it in time." There is also a recreation room, but he knows Lord El Melloi II enjoys his privacy to share it with the staff, human or Servant alike.
Talking about this lifts his spirits a little, even if the next serious topic is hard to approach, he gains a bit more of courage. He quiets about having the experience to draw about leadership and proper administration, nonetheless, he appreciates his attempt to reassure him (is that what he's doing?). "The Clock Tower needs people like you, Lord El Melloi II," he says with a firmer voice. It's his turn, he supposes, so he draws a little breath. "Magi need to be reminded they are stripped from common decency and ethics just because of the craft they practice." That's just a fabrication they make for themselves as if trying to live apart from the rest of society, Roman thinks. "I get it. Every close circle of researchers after reaching certain notoriety and wealth, close off, but you guys are still human."
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If he had gotten any sleep in the past week, perhaps he wouldn't need to resort to them. If he hadn't been so stubborn, he would have gone to bed as he had promised to Da Vinci last night. But instead, he had to make an embarrassment of himself and was awoke by the sudden intrusion and mention of his name.
"Eh? Leonardo-What? Are we under attack?!" He stirred with a bolt and frantically looked around. The control room was empty and a familiar man was looking (glaring?) at his direction. "Oh, uh, uhh--- Lord El Melloi II?" He stared dumbfounded because honestly, that sight should be impossible right now. With Chaldea isolated from the world. And the world--
"I must be still dreaming," he muttered with a bitter smile, reaching to pinch his cheek. He had to wake up. No times for daydreaming about playing video games.
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The response that Roman gave was instructive on many levels. First and foremost, it gave an idea of close co-worker relationships within Chaldea (DaVinci had been...interesting). Secondly, it suggested a certain level of being left alone to do late nights and fall asleep in the office that was painfully familiar. But the question about attack, that made clear the situation might be more threatening than anything Lord El-Melloi II had come to understand so far.
His eyes drifted to the good doctor's stash of long since consumed energy drinks. The man was surely was wise enough not to survive off of those and those alone, right?
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He was probably was confused as Waver was for the time being. Of course, there were explanations that immediately came after his fatigue made him overreact. One was that he was a Guardian, but such wasn't the case when he read the clear name of the registered Spirit. Roman sighed heavily. "Oh, you're an irregularity." A Heroic Spirit inhabiting a human vessel who wasn't a Ruler? That was new but, he could roll with it.
He waited until the awkwardness subsided to greet him.
"I apologize for the delay, but welcome to Chaldea," he said with a sheepish smile, "I'm sure you have many questions."
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"The summary is simple, Dr. Roman. What the fuck?"
Lord El-Melloi II folded his arms across his chest, eyeing Roman with the same kind of look he would usually afix Flat with after something tremendously stupid happened. And yet, Flat was unpredictable. Roman probably needed to know at least one thing, and it was with a moment of relenting his anger that Lord El-Melloi II added something simple.
"Before you ask, it is Zhuge Liang."
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What had been Da Vinci doing if she hadn't filled him in with anything? He nodded and wished his Master was here instead, the Master should be the one who handled Servants, not Roman. But this was a special case.
"I see," he answered while the system registered the name automatically, "But I'm not speaking with Zhuge Liang, right? You're Lord El Melloi II." He wanted a confirmation, but he was certain that his familiarity and his anger wouldn't make sense, he would just function as a Servant. "This is the first time we summoned uh, should I call you a Half Servant or maybe would you prefer a Pseudo Servant?" he asked nervously, knowing this wouldn't be very comforting. He just opted to be sincere here, it was more efficient that way.
It wasn't like they chose to summon him this way.
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Summoned into.
"Whatever you want to call it is irrelevant. My understanding is that I have his abilities and my own body, make up the vocabulary as you wish," Lord El-Melloi II replied hotly. He reached into his coat pocket, praying that his cigar case would still be there. If he was summoned to the end of the world without that? He'd happily change class and become a Berserker instead.
"Was this Chaldea's end goal, Roman? All three of you, before this...this disaster or whatever the fuck you're calling it?"
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He cleared his throat. "This organization was established with one purpose in mind," he announced, his soft voice made it less dramatic than should be, "We're here to ensure the preservation of human civilization. At least that was the original goal of the late director."
It was natural to be suspicious, he understood that very well. "Something has... happened in the past which has put the future at stake, that's why we're trying to fix that." That was the simplest explanation. "Heroic Spirits were," he paused, looking at him tiredly. "I suppose you wouldn't know, but their original purpose wasn't to be summoned to fight against each other for the sake of human greed, they were supposed to be summoned to save the world when the human order is in danger."
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All of Roman's calm explanations were denying Lord El-Melloi II any path to tear into the entire concept of Chaldea for landing him here in this situation. It was likely for the best, but the fact that Lord El-Melloi II had not begun to even make a pretense at sitting down reflected the fact he was still furious.
He kept listening. And kept an ear out for anyone else entering the control room.
"Was it anticipated at the outset that this past mistake was going to bite humanitiy in it's collective ass, or just a theory that Marisbilly decided to bank on in a massive wa....wait."
His eyes narrowed. Late director. "By director...how long has Marisbilly been dead for?"
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Questioned about the crisis, he sighed deeply. He wished he knew what was happening as well.
"I don't know, Chaldeas..." His eyes flickered to gaze at the floating replica of the World's Soul in front of the control room. Instead of frozen or burning as would have been in the other crisis another Chaldea faced, the sphere color had dulled. "Became inert like this. There aren't lights outside this building, almost as if civilization had disappeared and little by little, the past is also disappearing, we are trying to restore it." There were no singularities to travel to, they had to intervene in the past itself.
He scratched his head and looked back at him to answer his last query, "Yes, he passed away about five years ago. His daughter, Olgamarie, was made the director but when this began, she had been called by the Clock Tower before we lost contact with the outside world. Professor Lev became the Director in her absence, but he-" His paled to remember when they found Lev dead in his office. Suicide, apparently. A large number of people panicked and left the premises, and they also lost contact with them.
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If anyone was okay in this, it'd be Flat.
His mind stayed on Gray, even as Lord El-Melloi II managed to have enough sembelence of deceny to say, "Sorry to hear of those passings, especially with regards to Marisbilly."
Had Lord El-Melloi II known of the real relationship between Marisbilly and Roman, both Roman as Solomon and as Roman, there would be far more sympathy. As it was, Lord El-Melloi II indulged himself in being self centered.
"Dismiss me as a servant and let me get back to doing work in the world, not at the end of it."
He said the words plainly, but it was a demand.
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But for the rest-
Roman opened his mouth, but the string of excuses about how he didn't choose him to be summoned (nor the Heroic Spirit whom they had no catalyst to pull) all but died on his lips. He inspected his expression carefully. The cold voice. The way his eyes narrowed and his face contorted in displeasure. All signs of anger, but also... of frustration. Perhaps in another Chaldea, Roman would have lowered his head and take this just as a sign of what he deserved in his deep self-loathing, he never expected people to like him, but the opposite, it was only natural to hate and blame him. He didn't shoulder the secret guilt to scar him now. His time as a human being had been relatively spent in freedom until Marisbilly's tragic accident. This allowed him to read people, just a bit better, than he would be able to.
He was worried. About his students, he realized. That perhaps only he was the one saved.
He straightened his shoulders and rose with a serious expression. He bowed, one of the habits he picked in Japan during his journey. "I apologize for my lack of experience that brought you here, Lord El Melloi II, perhaps in the future we'll be able to reunite you with your students," he said, although he didn't want to make false promises, hope was fine, even for a pessimistic man like Romani. "However--" He lifted his face and straightened. Roman disliked confrontation, preferred his cowardly retreats to avoid upsetting people. Nonetheless, he was acting as the leader now. He had to show some resolve.
"This is no farce. Humanity is facing extinction. And, as irregular this is, you're housing a Heroic Spirit that could help us- no, help the world. So I have to ask you, as acting Director of Chaldea to help us, help humanity, to solve this. " He chose his words carefully next and gave them the weight to not just appeal Waver's sense of ethics, which if he remembered he had those, but also as a magus. "It is in my power to assign this ordeal as a 'Grand Order'."
Grand Order. The highest order of mission carried out by magi.
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Lord El-Melloi kept his gaze away from Roman. It helped him concentrate, to calculate, to find some way to deal with all of this. The world might be ending, but it was still a farce. Stupid. Just...stupid. He wasn't articulate right now, and a real fight about this required Lord El-Melloi II to actually argue rather than repeat the same words out of fruseration time and again.
"You don't know what happened at Clock Tower. Send me to London to do reconissance and see if any allies remain. If this...situation...has been forced upon me, then that same power should be more than enough to keep me safe."
The suggestion wasn't subtle. Roman had read the concerns on Lord El-Melloi II's face for what they were, but he also was willing to bank that the silence from Clock Tower and Olgamarie in specific was something that truly did need to be followed up on. If Roman was smart, if Roman had learned from Marisbilly and Lev, he'd agree, banking on any survivors being enough to actually keep Lord El-Melloi II from refusing to help further.
Again, Lord El-Melloi II reached into his coat pocket, this time finding his cigar case. He fished it out and opened it as a matter of habit. Roman had gotten a little bit of steel in him in the last ten years, that much was admirable and likely needed in a place with stronge personalities and stronger magecraft users.
"And answer this. How many other situations have you designated Grand Order to in Chaldea's time?"
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Roman suppressed his first instinct - to be honest about how pointless that quest was. The urge to tell him that members of the staff had physically left and they lost contact with them and that Chaldea was in perfect isolation. That their power went down before it became mysteriously restored. Sometimes, he had come to understand, humans needed white lies to continue their existence. To have hope.
It never occurred to him how humanity received the news of the world's end. He had seen that sight so many times in the past. His eyes had picked up the pruning of countless timelines and thought nothing of it. It was an effective system clean up job, while, by his side, the pillar demons grieved and demanded him to change that fate. The fate of those lost, and those who died, in the present and the past, and the ones who lost even that.
He only understood the weight of loss after Marisbilly's passing. Five years ago, he spent nearly a week locked up and throwing up his food without knowing why he couldn't eat, why he couldn't sleep, work or think. In those dark days, Lev had stayed with him, worried about his remaining friend's health. That was when, in his loneliness, Roman had told him his secret. Marisbilly was gone from this world, did he have any right to continue to live as he did without his former Master?
Lev was gone now. He had no time to mourn him or to be able to understand why he took his own life when they needed him the most.
"All right," he conceded with a softer voice, after weighing it if it was good for Waver to go there. If there was a 'there', and if it wouldn't just be a waste of their resources. He didn't know how he would react if he lost hope. It would be easier if he had let him shoulder his burden. "I'll authorize you, but only after you assist Chaldea's Master in the next assignment." It was a bargain he thought necessary before he confronted the hopeless present reality.
He wanted to give him hope he could turn things around first.
When he fished his cigar case, his gaze fell on it and was about to inform him this isn't a smoking allowed area when he came with his second query. Despite the solemn situation, he gave a sheepish short laugh. "You caught me. This would be my first one in Chaldea's time."
But it wasn't the first time, no.
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"Acceptable," he said, going about the process of lighting the cigar. If Roman was about to say something about no smoking, then Lord El-Melloi II was ready to be a prick about there being a lack of no smoking signs.
This was the worst part of being a Servant, wasn't it? Restricted freedoms, and all the more so with quarters being tight. He had investigated a few key facilities in attempts to calm down after being summons (there were video games, thank God), but Lord El-Melloi II knew himself. With uncertainty hanging over his students and all of London, this was to be an endurance trial.
Other possibilities had eclipsed Lord El-Melloi II in his anger. The hope of reunion being the most important, for if he could be summoned, then Iskandar could as well.
"Mm, but it was a term you anticipated using eventually."
If Chaldea was built for this situation, then there were likely guidelines for when to use it. Cigar smoke began to circle around Lord El-Melloi II, and finally his gaze returned to the doctor.
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"Eh--Excuse me but," he said, holding his hand up to wave some of the smoke away, "It's forbidden to smoke here." He would scold him about how bad that was for his health if he wasn't a Servant. "If you want, we can go to the smoking room or another area that allows it." The small greenhouse he made years ago for example. A change of setting would help the new arrival to become more familiar with the premises.
He scratched the back of his head. How should he answer that? "I'm just your run on the mill doctor, Lord El Melloi II," he reminded him - reminded himself as well- with the too familiar self-depreciation. "I'm only saying this in name of those who entrusted me with this temporary position."
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He was dropping strong vocabulary to describe how it felt to be walking around Chaldea, which meant that for now, his anger was down to a simmer instead of boiling over and splashing everyone in the metaphorical kitchen. In an effort to be polite, Lord El-Melloi II shifted his body as well, ensuring Roman would be downwind from the smoke. It took little effort and hopefully it would spare him lectures about health. He was well aware, and the cigars primarily served a function.
But at Roman describing himself as being a run of the mill doctor, Lord El-Melloi II snorted.
"Bullshit," he said. "You've been around mages for ten years, that much has been demonstrated to me already. More than that, you're the man in charge of the control room and this entire organization. Temporary or not, you're the defacto leader here. Moreover, you have been here since the beginning with the other founders. The notion you don't know something like the fact that Grand Orders were something Chaldea didn't anticipate from the beginning rings awfully hollow to my ears."
Lord El-Melloi II paused just for a moment, puffing a single smoke ring. "You're unique in where you stand, Doctor Roman. There's no value in downplaying it. Own the fact, as making a point of it will be needed down the line."
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The doctor smiled and gestured for him to follow him. His back was thus half turned when he assessed him in such borderline praiseworthy way. I don't want to, he wanted to retort, feeling the grip of stress by all these new responsibilities he had to overtake. Why did Lev leave him in charge? There were certainly more people capable than Roman. There was no sabotage in this timeline, and while a lot of their higher-ups left with Olgamarie for London, a few engineers had stayed behind. Was it because he knew who he used to be?
"At the worst scenario, we anticipated a minor order," he explained, averting his gaze first before he worked up the courage to meet his gaze. "I don't think I'm that special, but switching the Order gravity was probably my call."
He could admit that much now, hurrying to whirl around and not meet his gaze anymore. Lord El Melloi II was sharp, and now merged with Zhuge Liang, his observation was probably keener. This was going to be difficult when Roman's favorite hobbies were eating cake, browsing net idols blogs and downplaying himself.
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Trailing behind Roman at an appreciable half-step, Lord El-Melloi II listened carefully to the doctor's response. The statement about only expecting a minor order seemed true enough, but not entirely. There had to be an inkling, no mater how remote the possibility. But that was not a statement and an argument worth pursuing, and the way Roman held eye contact was far, far more concerning.
"Roman," he said, the sternness in his voice giving way to something that put years on El-Melloi II. It wasn't exhausted, but it had the quiet I've seen some shit tone. "You know my reputation at Clock Tower is that I can identify an individual's skill set and then bring it to it's greatest strength, right?"
He brought it up to make a point, but Lord El-Melloi II wanted to see if Roman would get to it first.
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The small green area was located in between the staff chambers and the control room but on a level above. It was the most organic spot of the otherwise sterilized organization, a mix between a park and a greenhouse. "Here we are," Roman announced cheerfully, stretching his arms and taking a long breath. "I thought this area would help those members of staff who face anxiety. There is a simulator, and we have a cinema screen, but sometimes we want to touch the real thing." Getting locked up surrounded by a frozen landscape for years could take a toll even with the strongest of mind. He gestured him to sit on one of the benches to continue their conversation.
Of course he had heard him, he just wanted to delay the topic so he wouldn't be speaking of this in the hallway with the rest of Chaldea watching.
"I know of your talent," he finally said, smiling, "I'm neither a magus", he said, almost feeling bad for lying (although he had no magic circuits right now), "Nor your student."
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His eyes linger as they enter the green house, taking the place in. His pale skin was enough to say that being outdoors was never a great priority, but between this and the rest of Chaldea, the need for it was obvious. God willing, Lord El-Melloi II could use any downtime in Chaldea to work through a backlog of video games, but he knew how chaotic Grail Wars were. A proper Grand Order would not allow for such a thing.
"It's very well kept," he said, taking a seat. Looking up at Roman, Lord El-Melloi II let out a dersive snort. He missed the point
"I wouldn't wish either on you. The purpose of the reminder was that I can see you do have the abilities, and denying that fact around me is utterly pointless. It borders on annoying."
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"Ah, I see I see, that must be how you realized my potential as video game player," Roman points out in other to move the topic from any serious abilities and to make him feel at ease. "I've practiced, you know, even if it's expensive to ship new releases to our location."
Most mailing companies don't cover Antarctica.
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The embarrassment was clear enough. "But if you've practiced, then we need to examine that together when you're not in that control room."
Something said that Roman out of the control room was a rare occurrence, but the gesture was far more important than the act itself. Either way, Lord El-Melloi II was aware that topics had shifted, and he glanced over Roman's entire person before clicking his tongue. He understood not wanting the position that one had.
"You'd welcome a chance to step down, huh?"
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When he offers to play with him (he's no fool to not recognize a poorly worded excuse), his eyes widen. He's never expected him to actually want to spend time with him willingly. "Really?" he utters more startled than he has wanted to show.
His next question is hard to face. "I'm a chicken, so it's natural that I want to run away and hide," he admits openly. That is the only thing he can be honest with everyone. "I didn't think I'd had to become the leader here, it's..." Stressing, familiar, he wants to meet expectations, but he's so afraid he is losing himself he if becomes the leader they need him to be. He can't tell Waver this. He pushes a strand of his hair anxiously. "You think I have the potential," he wonders aloud, and shows he's paid attention to his observation, "But not everything is a natural talent, Lord El Melloi II."
It's really hard for him to concede he's probably not a bad choice to be the acting Director, nonetheless, what makes him miserable isn't administrating but facing up with choices that ultimately upset people.
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The words left Lord El-Melloi II's mouth a little too quickly, and they sent him into a stunned silence. Everything was a reminder that he didn't know their status beyond Chaldea's walls, and that was still a source of anger. Anger that had just abated moments before.
He was angry. But it was harder to direct it at Roman now, at least, harder to do it and not come off as the horrible nineteen year old brat he hated. He wouldn't inflict that on anyone.
He managed to nod in confirmation to Roman's really?, because that was something to focus on. Lord El-Melloi shifted in his seat, eyes on Roman and the small laurel tree just behind him. There. Focus.
"It isn't a matter of think," he corrected with what was for him a normal degree of frankness. "You've already demonstrated it. There are also trite quotations about those who are best suited for power usually shy away from it, but as I said, they're trite. So I'll say this instead: there is nothing I loathe more than my status in Clock Tower because it invites unwanted and undesired attention. I would never compare myself to poultry," just slaughter it to summon Alexander the Great, "But I do understand the impulse."
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Does this mean I made a new friend? he thinks, musing about that, something exciting but also scary after he lost his two closest friends.
"I wouldn't say no to you if you want to play," he finally says, grinning from ear to ear. "I don't know how my schedule will get, but you're also welcome to borrow my console if I can't make it in time." There is also a recreation room, but he knows Lord El Melloi II enjoys his privacy to share it with the staff, human or Servant alike.
Talking about this lifts his spirits a little, even if the next serious topic is hard to approach, he gains a bit more of courage. He quiets about having the experience to draw about leadership and proper administration, nonetheless, he appreciates his attempt to reassure him (is that what he's doing?). "The Clock Tower needs people like you, Lord El Melloi II," he says with a firmer voice. It's his turn, he supposes, so he draws a little breath. "Magi need to be reminded they are stripped from common decency and ethics just because of the craft they practice." That's just a fabrication they make for themselves as if trying to live apart from the rest of society, Roman thinks. "I get it. Every close circle of researchers after reaching certain notoriety and wealth, close off, but you guys are still human."
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thanks lost room for a chronology!
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we can timeskip?
And now we jump to the left
yeah I know he's not supposed to be talking with merlin in this au but I can't help but sneak this
shhhh no apologies only magi mari now
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going to bed now even though i want to keep tagging
goodnight!
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DAMN I MISREAD THAT wait
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his farming destiny even follows him in rp
is it a blessing or a curse
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I DIDN'T SEE THIS I'M SORRY.
DON'T WORRY i was in conference exhaustion mode
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i'll probably be slow until sunday heads up XD;
No problem, I'm about to do the next leg of conference hell
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lmao sorry about the iliad assumption I CAN CHANGE THAT IF YOU WANT
NOPE IT'S PERFECT
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you know it'd be terrible if they bonded after the Fz event
fff i was thinking he summons lil' alexander first
this sounds great double the hot waver mess of emotions
the role reversal is always amusing because he looks up waver
yup and waver's just so conflicted bc lbr he definitely has a terrible crush on iskandar
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should we timeskip after alexander is summoned, roman give him strong coffee and talk about aliens
aliens why did it have to be aliens. |D sounds good!
and we can move this!
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