Anomaly Ch. 74 (Patreon)

Zouken didn’t answer him. Instead, the Worms began slipping into the channels, their bodies disappearing beneath the purple slurry in an orderly stream. Shirou cut through the nearest cluster, then drove Bakuya into the gap they were trying to reach. It wouldn’t stop all of them, but he had no intention of standing there while the old bastard withdrew.

Another impact shook the ceiling. This time, a crack opened above the chair, spreading towards the shelves along the wall.

“Rory, help Tyuule with the others.” He pulled Bakuya free, watching the slurry spill into the damaged stone, “We need to get out of this room.”

“Back the way we came?”

“Unless you know another way out.”

The Apostle glanced up as dust fell between them, then moved towards Lelei. Tyuule already had Tuka over her shoulder. At Zorzal’s body she stopped long enough that Shirou nearly told her to keep moving, but she stepped around him before he could speak, adjusting her hold on the elf without looking back.

He followed them through the breach, keeping his swords low to cut at anything trying to reach their feet. The black-clad figures were gone, leaving the passage empty apart from the rubble Rory had knocked loose during the fighting. Unfortunately, that did little to reassure him about what was waiting above.

The Servant was angry at Zouken. That didn’t necessarily make it their ally.

For all Shirou knew, its first response would be to bring the entire palace down. Given how much of the foundations were crawling with Worms, that might even be a reasonable way of attacking the old magus. Reasonable for something that could survive being buried beneath several floors of masonry, anyway.

“YOU WILL ANSWER US.”

The voice was closer now. Rory stopped at the bend, forcing Shirou to halt behind her.

“What?”

“The stairs.” She shifted Lelei higher against her shoulder, “There used to be a ceiling above it.”

Shirou looked past her.

Daylight cut through the dust at the end of the passage. A section of the palace had been torn open, exposing the cellar to the ruined garden beyond. Fragments of wine racks and broken casks lay beneath a slab of flooring that had been lifted almost upright. Above it, the Servant’s tusks crackled with lightning.

Its scepter remained pointed at the opening.

Shirou dismissed his swords and stepped into view with his hands open. He kept his eyes on the scepter, resisting the impulse to call the blades straight back.

“The man controlling you is still down here!”

The scepter shifted towards him. He resisted the urge to move.

“We are aware.”

Of course it was. Shirou could feel the magical energy running beneath his boots, gathering somewhere deeper in the foundations. The Worms were gathering around it, leaving the smaller channels as they went.

“Then let us through. We’re trying to reach him.”

The giant lowered its head. For a moment, Shirou thought it was looking at the blood on his hands.

“Where is the one who bore Our seals?”

Shirou glanced towards the passage behind him.

“Dead. Zouken killed him.”

The Servant’s grip tightened around its scepter, and the lightning along its tusks brightened.

“Then you will show Us what remains.”

Shirou glanced back towards the passage. Bringing the body out was considerably easier than getting the Servant inside, though he wasn’t particularly pleased about leaving the others within its reach.

“Let them through first. I’ll get him.”

The giant considered Rory and Tyuule for a moment before lifting its scepter. Shirou waited until both had climbed past the broken flooring, then returned to the storeroom.

Zorzal hadn’t moved, of course. Neither had the bloodstained strips beside him, though several Worms were now crawling over the cloth. Shirou cut them apart and checked the body before lifting it, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. The prince weighed so little that carrying him barely required Reinforcement.

By the time he returned, the others had taken shelter behind a fallen wall. Tyuule watched him lower Zorzal onto the paving without saying anything. He couldn’t tell whether she wanted him to cover the body or simply take it somewhere she wouldn’t have to look at it.

The Servant leaned forwards.

“This is what remains of your Master.”

“An unfortunate consequence of his constitution.”

Shirou turned towards the voice. A Worm had settled on the edge of the broken steps, its head raised towards them. It made no attempt to conceal itself, even when the giant’s scepter shifted in its direction.

“I did warn him that there would be demands upon his body.” Zouken sounded almost conversational, “He was quite insistent. Power, victory, the usual things. I imagine you have heard much the same from men in your service.”

“You presume to address Us as an equal?”

“Hardly. I am merely answering your question.”

Lightning struck the steps. Shirou threw an arm across his face as fragments of stone scattered over the paving. When he lowered it, there was nothing left of the Worm.

Zouken chuckled from somewhere beside the ruined fountain.

“Yes, I thought that might be your response.”

The Servant turned, but Shirou was watching the channels. The flow hadn’t changed. Even where the lightning had broken the stone, the slurry continued seeping towards the palace, diverted through adjoining cracks.

Zouken hadn’t even moved the familiar. Shirou watched the last of its remains wash into a crack, angry with himself now. He had brought everyone out here on the strength of a quarrel the old bastard was apparently enjoying.

“You have something to say, Emiya boy?”

Shirou looked towards the fountain.

“You’re still feeding him.”

The magical energy was passing beneath the Servant’s feet. Less than before, perhaps, but the connection was there. Whatever Zorzal’s death had severed, it hadn’t stopped that.

“Would you prefer that I ceased?”

The Servant’s scepter rose again.

“Do not mistake Our acceptance for dependence, worm. Your life is forfeit after We exact Our justice.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” There was no hesitation in Zouken’s reply, “Continue as you please. I have made ample provision for your expenditure.”

Shirou’s eyes narrowed. The Servant had not pointed its scepter towards the fountain this time. It had turned towards the fallen wall, where Tyuule was trying to get Tuka onto her feet.

“Wait.”

The word came out before he had decided what to say afterwards. He stepped sideways, putting himself between the weapon and the others, and immediately felt the pressure increase. His Circuits ached beneath it. Whatever restraint the Servant had exercised while inspecting Zorzal’s body was gone, leaving enough magical energy gathering around the scepter to make the air taste of metal.

The pressure made him want to step back. He held his ground, painfully aware that the giant’s attention remained on the people behind him.

“Rory. Don’t.”

The Apostle had started forwards, her halberd coming up. She stopped at his voice, though he could hear the scrape of her boots as she adjusted her stance. He couldn’t afford to look back. If she attacked now, there would be no opportunity to work out why the damn thing was still trying to kill them.

“You said you wanted justice.” Shirou kept his hands empty, “Zouken is the one who killed your Master.”

“And he will answer for it.”

“Then why are you aiming at them?”

The giant lowered its head. For a moment, Shirou could see his own reflection in the frozen surface of its tusks, distorted by the lightning crawling across them.

“Did you imagine that his death absolved you?”

Shirou’s stomach tightened.

“The man who summoned Us named you enemies of his Crown. You entered his palace bearing arms. You struck at the forces raised in his defense. We have seen nothing that would make his judgment false.”

Shirou remembered the Servant raging against its orders, and felt his mistake settle unpleasantly in his stomach. It had objected to being commanded. He had supplied the rest himself.

“He was helping Zouken slaughter his own people.”

“And you appointed yourself his judge?”

“We were trying to stop it.”

“You were in rebellion.”

Behind the giant, purple slurry ran through the broken paving. Shirou could still feel Zouken’s work beneath them, steady and undisturbed, while he stood here arguing with the thing guarding it. His fingers twitched. He wanted a sword in his hand badly enough that he had to spread them again, forcing himself to draw a slow breath against the pressure bearing down on his Circuits. Lelei and Tuka couldn’t run. He needed to keep it talking.

“We weren’t all his subjects. You can’t betray a crown you never served.”

“You took up arms alongside those who did.”

Its head shifted towards Tyuule.

Shirou moved again, keeping himself in its line of sight.

“She had every reason to. Zorzal enslaved her people. Countless others, too. He had them dragged from their homes, sold, worked to death. You saw what was left of the people outside. Do you really think wearing a crown gave him the right to do whatever he wanted to them?”

The Servant’s silence lasted just long enough for Shirou to wonder whether he had finally reached it.

“Yes. The Crown upon his head was sufficient.”

Shirou waited for something more, some condition that would make sense of the answer. The giant regarded him with growing impatience.

“God bestows dominion upon a sovereign. It is not for a slave to dispute that dominion, nor for an armed stranger to decide which commands deserve obedience. His subjects were his to govern.”

“To enslave.”

“If he so decreed.”

Tyuule made a small sound behind him. Shirou couldn’t tell whether it was a laugh or something else, but Rory spoke before she could.

“And which god would that be?”

The air grew colder.

“The Lord before whom all earthly sovereigns must answer.”

“Convenient. Does he answer before or after everyone else is dead?”

“Rory.”

Rory stopped, though he could hear her grip shift on the halberd. Shirou swallowed the words he wanted to add to hers. The scepter had begun to brighten again.

“So he answers to God. Fine. What are the people he hurts supposed to do until then?”

“Obey.”

Shirou tasted blood where he had bitten the inside of his cheek. He had told it about the slaves, the bodies outside, everything Zorzal had helped do to his own people. It had listened. He looked down at the dead prince, searching for something else to say before the scepter moved.

“I tried to save him.” Shirou nodded towards Zorzal’s body, keeping his eyes on the giant, “Even after everything he did. She helped me.”

He didn’t point at Tyuule. He had already dragged her into this enough.

“We went down there to stop Zouken. When we found Zorzal, we tried to get him out. Does that count for anything?”

“The condemned may show mercy. They remain condemned.”

Shirou’s hands curled at his sides.

“Then why ask to see him?”

“To see what had been done to the sovereign under whose summons We answered. To hear your account before passing sentence.”

Shirou glanced towards the broken steps. He could get Lelei through that opening, perhaps Tuka as well, if Rory bought him a few seconds. Then he looked at the torn edges of the floor above it. Going back down would give the giant a ceiling to bury them under.

“You heard me before you decided, did you?”

“We have heard enough.”

“And the man who murdered him gets to stand there and watch?”

A quiet chuckle came from the fountain.

Shirou ignored it.

“He’s using you. Every moment you spend here is another moment he has to finish whatever he’s doing beneath us.”

“The worm will receive his punishment. You will not bargain for your lives with his.”

The scepter remained trained on them. Behind it, Zouken’s slurry crept around Zorzal’s outstretched hand and disappeared between the stones. Shirou had to fight the urge to look for the Worm that was watching them.

Fucking hell.

Shirou eased one foot backwards. Rory noticed, shifting closer to Lelei while Tyuule pulled Tuka against her shoulder. Good. They needed to move together when this went wrong, though he still had no idea where they could go that the lightning wouldn’t reach.

“You’ve heard us.” He raised his voice slightly, buying another few seconds, “We haven’t even heard your name. If you’re going to pass judgment, tell us who is doing it.”

The giant straightened. Its shadow stretched across Zorzal’s body, over the bloodstained cloth and the hands Shirou had been unable to keep warm.

“We are Ivan.”

The scepter rose upright.

“Tsar Ivan.”

Shirou’s thoughts caught on the title. A Russian sovereign. The black-coated familiars, their uniform obedience, the name Tyuule had used for Zorzal’s secret army. Oprichnina. He should have made the connection earlier, though nothing he remembered about Russian history had prepared him for a ruler with tusks and a body that could withstand Rory’s halberd.

Ivan the Terrible.

Shirou searched what he remembered of the name and came up with nothing useful. He knew swords, their makers, the men they had killed; Russian sovereigns were another matter. Rory shifted behind him, and he heard Lelei draw a shallow, uneven breath. He was out of time to remember.

“Now you know the name of your judge.”

Lightning spread across the paving.

Shirou Traced Kanshou and Bakuya.

“Rory, take Lelei!”

Ivan lowered the scepter. Shirou hurled Bakuya at his head, watching the white edge flash past a tusk as he prepared to follow with Kanshou.

Ivan didn’t turn.

The lightning struck between Shirou and the broken steps, tearing apart the route back underground. Stone fragments hammered against his Shroud as he stumbled away from the blast.

“We have not given you leave to depart.”

Across the garden, Zouken laughed.

…