Q3
"THE PHARAOH REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR DWELLING HAS BEEN COMPROMISED BY THE FLAMES OF DESTRUCTION!" Nitocris continued, though her usual bombast was tempered with genuine sympathy. "THOUGH THE SACRED TEXTS AND MEMORY TABLETS HAVE BEEN PRESERVED!"
Saitama looked down at the rescued items in his hands, then up at the smoke still rising from his apartment building. His expression remained characteristically neutral, though a slight furrow appeared between his brows.
"Well, that's inconvenient," he said with remarkable understatement.
"Sensei, I believe this situation necessitates immediate action regarding alternate accommodations," Genos stated, already tapping rapidly on his phone. "Given the new S-Class designations of your associates, the Hero Association's emergency housing protocols can be activated."
"I'm supposed to call my landlord first," Saitama replied, seemingly more concerned with proper procedure than his sudden homelessness. "There's a number somewhere for emergencies..."
"Already handled," Shuten Douji informed him with surprising practicality beneath her usual silky tone. "I spoke with the building manager while retrieving your items. All necessary notifications have been filed."
Saitama blinked at her in mild surprise. "Oh. Thanks."
"A tactical withdrawal to secure new headquarters is our priority," Altera assessed, surveying the chaotic scene with military precision. "Temporary shelter followed by permanent relocation planning."
As the reality of the situation settled over them, a sleek black car pulled up nearby, drawing curious glances from emergency workers and displaced residents alike. The door opened to reveal a familiar face—Sweet Mask, still immaculately groomed despite the late hour.
"What fortuitous timing," the idol hero remarked, approaching with calculated grace. "I was just coming to discuss your new contracts when I heard about this unfortunate incident."
"How did you hear so quickly?" Saitama asked, reasonably suspicious.
Sweet Mask's perfect smile never wavered. "The Association monitors all incidents near registered hero residences, particularly those housing multiple S-Class assets." His gaze swept over the Servants and the rescued items they carried. "I see you've salvaged what you could. Excellent. The Association can provide immediate temporary accommodations while more suitable permanent arrangements are made."
"THE PHARAOH REQUIRES LODGINGS BEFITTING HER DIVINE STATUS!" Nitocris declared, though there was a note of uncertainty beneath her usual bombast—the day's events having left even her rattled.
"Of course," Sweet Mask assured her with practiced charm. "The Association maintains several residential compounds for S-Class heroes. Given your unique... group dynamic, I've taken the liberty of arranging temporary access to the East Complex."
"The East Complex is reserved for the highest-ranking S-Class heroes," Genos noted with surprise. "Access is typically restricted to the top five."
Sweet Mask's smile took on a slightly calculating edge. "Exceptions can be made when circumstances warrant. Six new S-Class heroes simultaneously entering the roster is unprecedented. The Association is... eager to ensure their comfort and loyalty."
Saitama looked from Sweet Mask to his smoldering apartment building and back again. "Do they have hot water?"
"State-of-the-art facilities, complete security, and full amenities," Sweet Mask confirmed, seemingly amused by the simple question. "Transportation is waiting."
The Servants exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them before Shiki spoke for the group.
"We go where our Master goes," she stated simply.
All eyes turned to Saitama, who scratched his head absently while considering the offer. "I guess we don't have much choice. Lead the way."
---
The East Complex of the Hero Association proved to be less a building and more a small, self-contained community—a walled compound containing several modern residential structures surrounding a central training facility. Security measures were visible but tastefully integrated into the sleek architectural design.
As their Association transport passed through the reinforced gates, Saitama and his Servants were greeted by the sight of immaculately maintained grounds and impressive living quarters that stood in stark contrast to the modest apartment they had left behind.
"The main residential unit has been prepared for your group," Sweet Mask explained as they disembarked. "Seven bedrooms, communal living areas, fully stocked kitchen, training facilities, and direct access to Association support systems."
"Seven bedrooms?" Saitama repeated, the concept of such space clearly foreign to his experience.
"THE PHARAOH APPROVES OF THESE MORE APPROPRIATE ACCOMMODATIONS!" Nitocris declared, her earlier distress already fading as she surveyed their new surroundings with royal approval.
"The tactical positioning is sound," Altera observed, her military mind automatically assessing sightlines and defensive parameters. "Elevated terrain, controlled access points, multiple evacuation routes. Good civilization."
Nightingale had already begun a methodical inspection of the medical facilities visible through one of the building's large windows. "The emergency response equipment appears adequate, though I will need to conduct a full inventory to confirm optimal preparedness."
Okita moved with subtle grace around the perimeter, her swordsman's instincts checking for potential weaknesses or ambush points. Despite her casual demeanor, her hand never strayed far from her katana's hilt.
Shuten Douji drifted toward the ornamental garden, her expression appreciative as she examined the carefully arranged flora. "How lovely. I detect several plants with... interesting properties." Her smile suggested these properties might not be entirely medicinal.
Only Shiki remained close to Saitama, her penetrating gaze focused not on their new surroundings but on Sweet Mask himself, studying him with the same intensity she brought to everything that caught her attention.
As they were led into the main building, the contrast with Saitama's former apartment became even more pronounced. Spacious rooms flowed into one another, furnished with elegant simplicity that managed to convey luxury without ostentation. The kitchen gleamed with high-end appliances, and the living area featured comfortable seating arranged around an impressive entertainment system.
"Your biometric data has already been added to the security protocols," Sweet Mask informed them, gesturing toward a sleek panel near the entrance. "The facility is at your complete disposal. Association support staff are available on call, though they don't reside on-site to ensure privacy for heroes."
"This seems... excessive," Saitama observed, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the sudden upgrade to his living situation.
"The Association values its S-Class assets," Sweet Mask replied smoothly. "Particularly those with... unique capabilities." His perfect smile never reached his eyes as he surveyed the Servants. "I'll leave you to get settled. We can discuss contract details tomorrow."
After Sweet Mask's departure, the group stood in the spacious living area, the silence stretching between them as they adjusted to their drastically changed circumstances.
"Well," Saitama finally said, setting down his rescued hero encyclopedia on a nearby table, "this is different."
"Different, yet perhaps necessary," Nightingale observed clinically. "Our previous accommodations were insufficient for optimal functionality given our collective requirements."
"THE PHARAOH FINDS THESE QUARTERS MORE BEFITTING OUR STATION!" Nitocris declared, already eyeing the most impressive chair as a potential throne.
"The tactical advantages are significant," Altera noted pragmatically. "Improved security parameters, enhanced resource access, strategic positioning relative to potential threat vectors."
"I won't miss sharing floor space with five other people," Okita admitted with a slight smile, followed by her characteristic soft cough.
Shuten Douji moved gracefully through the space, trailing her fingers along surfaces with sensual appreciation. "So much room for... activities," she purred, her meaning deliberately ambiguous.
Throughout this exchange, Saitama remained near the entrance, his expression unreadable as he observed his Servants exploring their new domain. There was something almost wistful in his stillness—a subtle resistance to the abrupt transition from his simple, familiar life to this new reality.
Shiki, as always attuned to nuances others missed, approached him quietly. "You miss your apartment," she observed rather than asked.
Saitama shrugged slightly. "It wasn't much, but it was mine. Earned it myself, you know? This place feels like..." he gestured vaguely, searching for words.
"Someone else's idea of what you should want," Shiki completed his thought with quiet precision.
"Yeah, exactly." He looked at her with mild surprise, not accustomed to being understood so easily.
"We bring ourselves wherever we go," she offered simply. "Walls change. People don't."
Before Saitama could respond to this unexpectedly philosophical observation, Genos approached with characteristic purpose.
"Sensei, I've completed an initial security assessment of the facility. The physical and electronic countermeasures are S-Class standard, though I've identified seventeen potential enhancements I could implement with your permission."
"Sure, knock yourself out," Saitama agreed with a vague wave, still distracted by the unfamiliar surroundings.
As night fell over their new residence, the Servants gradually settled into the space, each claiming territories in ways that reflected their natures. Nitocris immediately claimed the most ornate bedroom, already planning modifications to make it "MORE SUITABLE FOR DIVINE ROYALTY." Altera selected a room with optimal sightlines to potential approach vectors, rearranging the furniture for tactical efficiency.
Nightingale requisitioned a space near what appeared to be a medical bay, methodically organizing equipment and supplies according to her exacting standards. Okita chose a modest room with easy access to the training facilities, her practical nature evident in her minimal requirements. Shuten Douji selected the bedroom farthest from the others, her smile suggesting plans for activities best conducted with a measure of privacy.
Shiki, characteristically, expressed no preference, seeming equally comfortable wherever she happened to be. When Saitama finally chose a room—not the largest or most impressive, but one with a simple view of the night sky—she selected the space across the hall, positioning herself as both guardian and observer.
Late that night, when the others had retired to explore their new accommodations, Saitama found himself standing on the balcony outside the common area, gazing at the city lights in the distance. The events of the day—the demonstration, the fire, the sudden relocation—had created a rare sense of unsettled disorientation that even his usual emotional detachment couldn't completely suppress.
He sensed rather than heard someone join him, a presence that somehow managed to be both unobtrusive and unmistakable.
"Can't sleep?" he asked without turning, knowing it was Shiki.
"I don't require much rest," she replied, moving to stand beside him at the railing. "The connection to the Root sustains me beyond physical needs."
They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the distant city glow beneath the night sky.
"You know," Saitama finally said, "a month ago my biggest concern was catching the convenience store sales. Now I've got six legendary heroes living with me in some fancy Association complex, and everyone's acting like it's completely normal."
"Is normalcy something you value?" Shiki asked, her question seemingly simple but layered with deeper meaning.
Saitama considered this thoughtfully. "I thought I did. But normal was also... kind of empty, you know? Same routine every day. No real challenges. Nothing that made me feel... anything."
"And now?"
"Now everything's weird and complicated and crowded." A pause, then with surprising honesty: "But not empty."
Shiki nodded slightly, understanding the significance of this admission. "Emptiness and simplicity aren't the same thing, though they're often confused."
Before their conversation could continue, the balcony door slid open to reveal Shuten Douji, a bottle of sake in one hand and three cups in the other.
"My, my, another midnight rendezvous?" she observed with teasing warmth. "How fortunate I brought enough for everyone."
"I thought you'd be exploring your new room," Saitama commented as she joined them at the railing.
"Walls are walls," Shuten replied with surprising insight beneath her usual playfulness. "Company is far more interesting." She poured three cups with graceful precision, offering them with a gesture that somehow managed to be both seductive and respectful.
As they sipped the sake—which Saitama noted was considerably better than what they'd been drinking in his apartment—the balcony door opened again, admitting Altera.
"Security perimeter check complete," she reported, though her tone suggested this wasn't her only reason for joining them. "The Association's systems are adequate but could be optimized."
"Join us?" Shuten offered, already producing another cup from within her sleeve with mysterious efficiency.
Altera hesitated only briefly before accepting, her usual martial stoicism softening slightly in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
"The structural integrity of this facility exceeds residential standards by approximately 327%," came Nightingale's voice as she too emerged onto the balcony. "Reinforced load-bearing supports suggest anticipation of significant force events."
"In other words, they built it to withstand people like us," Saitama translated with surprising perceptiveness.
"Precisely," Nightingale confirmed, accepting the cup Shuten now offered her without her usual clinical scrutiny of unknown substances.
"THE PHARAOH SENSES A GATHERING WITHOUT ROYAL REPRESENTATION!" Nitocris announced as she joined them, though her volume had decreased significantly from her daytime proclamations. In the soft moonlight, without her full regalia, she seemed younger and less imposing—still regal, but more human.
The door opened one final time to admit Okita, who nodded respectfully to Saitama before taking her place in what had become an impromptu gathering.
"Couldn't sleep?" Saitama asked, somewhat bemused by the complete assembly of his Servants in the middle of the night.
"A warrior remains vigilant in unfamiliar surroundings," Okita replied, though her slight smile suggested other motivations beyond tactical caution.
As they stood together under the night sky, sharing sake and silence in equal measure, something shifted in their collective dynamic. The formality of Master and Servants seemed to recede, if only temporarily, leaving seven individuals bound by circumstances none of them had anticipated yet all had somehow accepted.
"I've been meaning to ask," Saitama said eventually, breaking the comfortable silence. "Why me? I mean, I know I poked that weird circle thing, but there must be a reason you all ended up here specifically."
The Servants exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them before Altera spoke.
"Summoning requires compatibility," she explained with tactical precision. "Heroic Spirits respond to resonant souls across dimensions."
"Your strength called to warriors who understand power," Okita added thoughtfully. "Not just physical strength, but the weight of carrying it."
"THE PHARAOH IS DRAWN TO THOSE WORTHY OF DIVINE SERVICE!" Nitocris declared, though her tone held more genuine reflection than her usual bombast.
"Your healing comes from breaking through limitations," Nightingale observed with clinical insight that somehow transcended mere medical assessment. "My own nature responds to such determination."
"You're untouched by the corruption that usually accompanies power," Shuten Douji noted, her usual seductive tone giving way to something more sincere. "Such purity is... intoxicating in its rarity."
"You exist beyond normal endings," Shiki concluded quietly. "I see death in all things except you. The paradox creates a natural resonance."
Saitama absorbed these explanations with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. "So it's not just random bad luck that I got stuck with six roommates who eat all my food and rearrange my furniture?"
This unexpected humor broke the serious moment, drawing smiles and even soft laughter from the assembled Servants.
"THE PHARAOH CONTENDS THAT YOUR DWELLING HAS BEEN SIGNIFICANTLY IMPROVED BY HER DIVINE PRESENCE!" Nitocris huffed, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Tactical reorganization enhances functionality," Altera insisted, the faintest hint of a smile touching her usually stoic features.
"Proper nutritional intake is essential for optimal performance," Nightingale maintained, though even her clinical demeanor had softened.
"A warrior's environment reflects their discipline," Okita added with mock seriousness.
"And some improvements were purely aesthetic," Shuten Douji purred with theatrical innocence.
Only Shiki remained silent, though her eyes held a warmth rarely visible in her usually detached gaze.
In that moment, beneath the vast night sky, something crystallized between them—an understanding that transcended the formal boundaries of their summoning. They were still Master and Servants by cosmic designation, but they had become something else as well: a strange, impossible family of sorts, bound together by forces none of them fully understood but all had come to accept.
"I should probably warn you," Saitama said as he finished his sake, "I'm still doing my hero work, fancy new apartment or not. Tomorrow morning, same training routine."
"THE PHARAOH SHALL ACCOMPANY YOU WITH DIVINE ENTHUSIASM!" Nitocris declared immediately.
"A consistent training regimen maintains optimal combat readiness," Altera approved with a tactical nod.
"Regular physical conditioning is essential for peak performance," Nightingale confirmed clinically.
"A warrior's discipline begins anew each dawn," Okita agreed with formal respect.
"Early rising is not my preference," Shuten Douji sighed dramatically, "but sacrifices must be made in service to one's Master."
Shiki said nothing, but her slight nod conveyed both understanding and acceptance.
As they returned inside, dispersing to their respective rooms with a new sense of settled purpose, Saitama paused at his doorway, looking back at the group that had so unexpectedly entered his life. His expression remained characteristically neutral, yet something had shifted in his eyes—a subtle lightening of the perpetual boredom that had plagued him since achieving his overwhelming strength.
Perhaps, he reflected as he closed his door, being a Master was its own kind of challenge—not the physical battle he had long sought, but something equally demanding in its own way. Managing six legendary beings with cosmic powers and outsized personalities might not test his incredible strength, but it certainly tested other qualities he hadn't exercised in quite some time.
And unlike the disappointing one-punch victories that had become his hero career, this was a challenge with no simple resolution—a continuing story rather than an abrupt ending.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Saitama fell asleep wondering what tomorrow might bring. And for the first time in even longer, he found himself looking forward to finding out.
## Chapter 10: Morning Adjustments and Afternoon Revelations
The following morning began with the surreal experience of Saitama's standard training routine transplanted to luxurious new surroundings. The spacious grounds of the East Complex provided ample room for running, and the state-of-the-art training facilities offered equipment that even Saitama found impressively durable.
What hadn't changed was the loyal participation of his six Servants, each approaching the exercise in their characteristic manner. Nitocris maintained her royal dignity even while performing push-ups, Altera approached each exercise with tactical precision, and Nightingale monitored everyone's form with clinical attention to biomechanical efficiency.
Okita matched Saitama movement for movement despite her occasional cough, her swordsman's discipline evident in her perfect form. Shuten Douji approached training with surprisingly serious dedication beneath her usual playful demeanor, revealing the warrior nature that her sensual presentation often obscured. And Shiki participated with quiet efficiency, her movements economical and precise.
"Your collective physical capabilities exceed standard human parameters by considerable margins," Genos observed as he joined them, his mechanical body requiring no warm-up. "Yet you maintain the discipline of regular training despite no physiological necessity."
"THE PHARAOH MAINTAINS HER DIVINE CONDITION AS A MATTER OF ROYAL PRINCIPLE!" Nitocris declared between precisely counted sit-ups.
"Combat readiness requires consistent maintenance regardless of baseline capabilities," Altera stated pragmatically, completing her push-ups with perfect form.
"Muscular memory and neuromuscular pathways benefit from regular activation even in enhanced physiologies," Nightingale explained clinically, monitoring her own pulse with professional precision.
"A sword that remains sheathed grows dull," Okita added with simple wisdom, moving through a series of stretches with fluid grace.
"Besides," Shuten Douji noted with a sly smile, "the activity provides such lovely views." Her appreciative gaze left little doubt as to her meaning as it traveled over her fellow Servants and lingered particularly on Saitama.
Shiki, as usual, offered no explanation for her participation, simply continuing her exercises with quiet focus.
As they completed the workout and gathered for breakfast in their new spacious kitchen, the domestic rhythm established in Saitama's tiny apartment reasserted itself despite the changed surroundings. Nightingale inspected ingredients with clinical thoroughness, Altera arranged table settings with tactical precision, and Nitocris supervised with royal authority that was more enthusiastic than helpful.
Okita prepared tea with ceremonial care, Shuten Douji assembled fruit with artistic flair, and Shiki quietly assisted wherever needed without drawing attention to herself. Saitama, for his part, seemed content to observe this choreographed chaos, his usual impassive expression occasionally softening into something that might almost be called contentment.
Their domestic harmony was interrupted by the arrival of an Association courier bearing seven identical data tablets.
"Official S-Class registration confirmation and duty protocols," the courier explained, nervously eyeing the assembled Servants. "Also your first assignment briefing."
"Assignment?" Saitama echoed, accepting his tablet with mild surprise. "Already?"
"High-priority surveillance operation," the courier elaborated. "Details in the briefing. Sweet Mask specifically requested your team's participation given your... unique capabilities."
After the courier's hasty departure, the group gathered around the large dining table, reviewing the information on their tablets with varying degrees of interest and concern.
"Intelligence suggests potential infiltration of Hero Association systems by an unknown entity," Genos summarized, processing the information with mechanical efficiency. "Unusual energy signatures detected in the downtown corporate sector match no known monster patterns."
"Reconnaissance parameters indicate expectation of stealth rather than direct engagement," Altera observed, studying the tactical maps with military precision.
"THE PHARAOH IS NOT ACCUSTOMED TO SKULKING IN SHADOWS!" Nitocris protested, though with less conviction than her usual declarations. "DIVINE MIGHT SHOULD BE DISPLAYED OPENLY!"
"Tactical intelligence gathering is an essential precursor to effective combat operations," Okita noted with professional assessment. "The Shinsengumi often employed such methods to great effect."
"Surveillance can be quite entertaining when approached with the right mindset," Shuten Douji suggested with characteristic mischief. "Observing others when they believe themselves unobserved reveals such... interesting truths."
"Medical preparation for various contingencies will be required," Nightingale concluded clinically. "Unknown entities present unpredictable physiological threats."
Throughout this exchange, Shiki remained silent, studying the mission parameters with intense focus, her blue eyes narrowed slightly as if seeing beyond the information presented.
"Something wrong?" Saitama asked, noticing her concentration.
"The timing is convenient," she observed quietly. "Our arrival, registration, relocation, and immediate deployment to gather intelligence on an 'unknown entity' with 'unusual energy signatures.'"
"You think it's connected to us?" Saitama asked, displaying unexpected perceptiveness.
"Coincidences often aren't," Shiki replied simply.
This observation cast a thoughtful silence over the group. The implications were clear: their sudden integration into the Hero Association's structure might not be as straightforward as it appeared.
"A tactical assessment of motivations suggests multiple possibilities," Altera noted after careful consideration. "Testing our capabilities under controlled conditions. Evaluating our loyalty parameters. Potentially using us to locate entities similar to ourselves."
"Or simply making use of our unique abilities for legitimate purposes," Nightingale countered pragmatically. "Efficient resource allocation is a fundamental principle of organizational management."
"THE PHARAOH SUSPECTS MORTALS OF PLAYING POLITICAL GAMES!" Nitocris declared with uncharacteristic insight. "DIVINE POWER ATTRACTS BOTH WORSHIP AND WARINESS!"
"The Shinsengumi often received missions that served multiple objectives," Okita observed thoughtfully. "The stated purpose and the underlying strategic goal were not always identical."
"Sweet Mask strikes me as a man of many layers," Shuten Douji mused, her usual playfulness giving way to sharper assessment. "His perfect facade hides depths that would be... fascinating to explore."
Saitama absorbed these perspectives with surprising thoughtfulness. "So basically, we don't really know if this is a real mission or some kind of test."
"Does the distinction matter?" Shiki asked quietly. "Either way, our response reveals something about ourselves."
This simple observation cut through the complexity of the situation with characteristic precision. The others fell silent, considering her words.
"Well," Saitama finally said, setting down his tablet, "I guess we'll find out when we get there. The briefing says we start at sunset."
Despite the uncertainty surrounding their assignment, the day proceeded with surprising normalcy. The Servants explored their new residence more thoroughly, discovering training facilities, communal spaces, and personal amenities that far exceeded their previous accommodations.
Saitama, for his part, seemed most impressed by the fully stocked kitchen and entertainment system, his simple pleasures unchanged despite the luxurious surroundings. When Genos discovered a complete collection of hero manga in the library, Saitama's rare genuine smile made a brief appearance.
As evening approached and they prepared for their assignment, the mood shifted from domestic exploration to professional focus. Each Servant prepared in their own way: Altera studying tactical maps with military precision, Nightingale assembling medical supplies with clinical thoroughness, Nitocris practicing smaller, more controlled manifestations of her spiritual powers.
Okita performed meticulous sword maintenance, Shuten Douji prepared various concoctions whose purposes she declined to specify, and Shiki simply sat in quiet meditation, her knife across her lap and her eyes closed in deep concentration.
Saitama's preparation consisted mainly of changing into his hero costume and making sure he had his wallet in case they passed any convenience stores with good sales.
As they gathered in the main room before departure, Genos provided a final briefing. "The target building is in the financial district. Association intelligence indicates unusual energy fluctuations on the 37th floor. Our objective is observation and identification only—no engagement unless authorized."
"THE PHARAOH SHALL RESTRAIN HER DIVINE MIGHT TO MERE OBSERVATION!" Nitocris promised, though her staff glowed subtly with anticipation.
"Optimal surveillance requires strategic positioning," Altera noted, already mentally mapping approach vectors. "We should deploy in coordinated observation units."
"I recommend dividing into three teams," Okita suggested with tactical precision. "Multiple vantage points provide comprehensive coverage while maintaining reasonable response capabilities."
"Medical support should be distributed across all teams," Nightingale added pragmatically. "Unknown entities present unpredictable health risks."
"I volunteer for close-range observation," Shuten Douji offered with a mischievous smile. "I can be very... discreet when properly motivated."
Shiki said nothing, but her readiness was evident in her focused stance and alert gaze.
Saitama looked around at his assembled Servants, each poised and prepared in their unique way. Despite the mundane nature of a surveillance mission, there was something impressive about their collective purpose—legendary beings united in common cause under his unlikely leadership.
"Right," he said with characteristic simplicity. "Let's go see what's making weird energy on the 37th floor."
---
The financial district glittered with corporate lights as night fell over Z-City. The target building rose like a monument to modern commerce—seventy stories of glass and steel housing various corporate offices, including several Hero Association subsidiaries.
From their observation point on an adjacent rooftop, Saitama and his team surveyed the seemingly ordinary structure with various specialized methods. Genos employed his enhanced vision, scanning for unusual energy signatures. Altera utilized her tactical assessment abilities to identify potential entry and exit points. Nightingale monitored for biological anomalies with her medically enhanced senses.
"Thirty-seventh floor shows temperature variations inconsistent with standard office environments," Genos reported, his mechanical eyes focusing with precision. "Energy readings fluctuate in patterns similar to but distinct from known monster signatures."
"Multiple movement patterns detected," Altera observed, her battlefield instincts honed to perceive what others missed. "Coordinated but non-standard locomotion."
"No bio-hazardous emissions detected," Nightingale noted clinically. "Though ambient radiation readings show slight elevation compared to surrounding floors."
Nitocris, who had been uncommonly quiet during their approach, suddenly stiffened, her staff glowing with increased intensity. "THE PHARAOH SENSES FAMILIAR ENERGIES!" she whispered—a paradoxical combination of her usual dramatic tone with genuine attempt at stealth. "SPIRITUAL RESONANCES SIMILAR TO OUR OWN!"
This revelation created a moment of profound silence among the group. The implications were significant—if what awaited them was somehow connected to their own nature as Servants, the mission took on entirely new dimensions.
"So it might be more people like you?" Saitama asked, his simplicity cutting through the complexity with characteristic directness.
"Not precisely like us," Shiki replied quietly, her blue eyes focused on the building with penetrating intensity. "But of similar origin. The boundaries between worlds have been compromised."
"A summoning circle similar to the one that brought us here," Okita hypothesized with tactical assessment.
"Or perhaps something deliberately seeking beings of our nature," Shuten Douji suggested, her usual playfulness absent in the face of this development.
"Tactical assessment suggests verification is required before conclusions can be drawn," Altera stated pragmatically. "Direct observation would provide necessary intelligence."
Saitama considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Shiki and I will check it out up close. The rest of you stay here as backup."
"Master, tactical protocols would suggest—" Altera began, only to be interrupted by Saitama's raised hand.
"If there's something like you guys in there, having all of us show up might seem threatening," he explained with surprising insight. "Shiki's the least... flashy, and I'm just a guy in a jumpsuit. Less scary that way."
The logic was sound enough that even Altera couldn't argue, though her expression suggested she wasn't entirely satisfied with the arrangement.
"THE PHARAOH PROTESTS BEING EXCLUDED FROM THE VANGUARD!" Nitocris declared, though she kept her volume surprisingly moderated.
"Medical support should accompany the reconnaissance team," Nightingale insisted with professional concern.
"A warrior's instincts would be valuable in unknown territory," Okita added, her hand resting on her katana's hilt.
"I can be exceptionally... discreet," Shuten Douji purred, clearly disappointed at being left behind.
"If anything goes wrong, you'll know," Saitama assured them simply. "And then you can all do your thing with the divine might and tactical superiority and everything."
This compromise, while not entirely satisfactory to the Servants, was accepted with varying degrees of reluctance. As Saitama and Shiki prepared to approach the building, Genos provided a final tactical assessment.
"The service entrance on the northeast side shows minimal security presence," he advised. "Maintenance access to upper floors available through utility corridors."
With a casual nod of acknowledgment, Saitama and Shiki departed, moving with surprisingly complementary styles—his straightforward approach balanced by her fluid grace, creating a partnership that somehow worked despite their vastly different natures.
Watching them go, the remaining Servants exchanged glances that communicated complex emotions without words: concern for their Master, professional frustration at being left in reserve, and a deeper uncertainty about what awaited within the target building.
"Our Master continues to surprise," Okita observed quietly. "Our Master continues to surprise," Okita observed quietly.
"His tactical instincts are unconventional but sound," Altera acknowledged, her eyes never leaving the building where Saitama and Shiki had disappeared. "He perceives patterns others miss."
"His psychological assessment of potential confrontation dynamics demonstrates unexpected insight," Nightingale analyzed clinically. "Minimizing perceived threat levels optimizes initial contact scenarios."
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE WISDOM IN SENDING FORTH SCOUTS BEFORE COMMITTING THE FULL MIGHT OF THE ROYAL ARMY!" Nitocris declared, though her nervous grip on her staff betrayed her concern.
"He chose Shiki," Shuten Douji noted with uncharacteristic seriousness. "The one among us who can kill anything—or walk away from anything—if necessary."
This observation silenced the group momentarily as they considered its implications. Saitama's choice of companion had not been random or simply based on Shiki's less intimidating appearance. He had selected the Servant whose abilities offered the greatest versatility in an unknown situation.
"Our Master sees more than he reveals," Genos concluded, a note of pride evident in his usually neutral tone.
---
Inside the target building, Saitama and Shiki moved through service corridors with complementary efficiency—his straightforward approach balanced by her shadow-like grace. They encountered minimal security, most of which Shiki circumvented with subtle applications of her abilities that left guards blinking in confusion as they passed unnoticed.
"You're pretty good at this sneaking stuff," Saitama observed in a hushed tone as they entered a utility stairwell.
"Perception has lines that can be cut, like anything else," Shiki replied softly. "I simply remove the connection between their sight and our presence."
Saitama considered this for a moment. "That's convenient. And kind of scary."
"Most effective abilities are both," she acknowledged without pride or apology.
As they ascended toward the 37th floor, Saitama's usual impassive expression gave way to mild curiosity. "So, what do you think we're going to find up there? More Servants like you guys?"
Shiki was silent for several steps before responding. "Not exactly like us. There are... different types of summonings. Different rules. Different purposes."
"Complicated, huh?"
"Existence usually is," she replied with quiet certainty. "Except for you."
Saitama glanced at her, momentarily puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"You've reduced existence to its simplest form," Shiki explained, her blue eyes meeting his with that penetrating gaze. "One punch. No complications. No lines of death because you've transcended the concept itself."
This unexpectedly profound observation caused Saitama to pause on the landing, genuinely struck by her insight. "I never thought about it that way. I just trained really hard until my hair fell out."
A ghost of a smile touched Shiki's lips. "Profound truths often hide behind simple statements."
Their philosophical moment was interrupted as they reached the door to the 37th floor. Even through the heavy service door, a subtle vibration could be felt—a rhythmic pulsing that seemed to resonate at a frequency just below normal hearing.
"Something's definitely happening in there," Saitama noted unnecessarily.
Shiki placed her hand against the door, her eyes shifting color slightly as she accessed her mystic perception. "There's a boundary being manipulated. Not unlike the summoning circle that brought us to you, but... different. More structured. Deliberate."
"Should we knock or just go in?" Saitama asked practically.
Before Shiki could respond, the decision was made for them as the door swung open from the inside, revealing a startled man in a lab coat carrying a clipboard.
For a fraction of a second, all three figures froze in mutual surprise. Then the scientist's eyes widened in recognition.
"The bald hero!" he exclaimed, his clipboard clattering to the floor. "How did you—security should have—" He stopped abruptly, his gaze shifting to Shiki with growing alarm. "And you brought one of them with you. This is... unexpected."
"One of them?" Saitama repeated, his casual tone belying the significance of the statement.
The scientist's momentary shock gave way to an unexpected calm. "Well, I suppose it was inevitable. The resonance patterns would naturally attract similar entities." He straightened his lab coat with dignity. "You might as well come see what you've stumbled into. It's rather impressive, if I do say so myself."
With surprising composure, he turned and led them through the door into what should have been a corporate office space but instead resembled an advanced research facility. The large open floor had been transformed into a laboratory centered around an elaborate circular platform inscribed with complex geometric patterns and symbols not unlike the one Saitama had encountered in the alley.
Around this central platform, various monitoring stations displayed incomprehensible data streams while technicians in matching lab coats made adjustments to equipment that hummed with barely restrained energy.
"Welcome to Project Threshold," the scientist announced with unmistakable pride. "The Hero Association's answer to the increasing monster threat—controlled summoning of mythological entities with combat capabilities exceeding S-Class parameters."
Saitama blinked, his expression shifting from mild interest to slight confusion. "You're... making more of them? On purpose?"
"'Making' is imprecise terminology," the scientist corrected pedantically. "We're establishing controlled pathways to extradimensional entities with predetermined loyalty parameters and combat specifications."
"You're forcing summonings," Shiki stated flatly, her tone carrying a subtle but unmistakable edge of disapproval.
The scientist's enthusiasm dimmed slightly under her penetrating gaze. "We prefer 'directing' or 'facilitating' rather than 'forcing.' The distinction is important both ethically and procedurally."
Before either Saitama or Shiki could respond to this semantic defense, a new voice joined the conversation—smooth, cultured, and immediately recognizable.
"I see our unexpected visitors have received the preliminary briefing."
Sweet Mask approached from across the laboratory, his perfect appearance incongruous among the utilitarian lab equipment. His trademark smile was in place, though it didn't reach his calculating eyes.
"This is your mission?" Saitama asked directly. "You sent us to spy on yourselves?"
Sweet Mask's smile never wavered. "Not precisely. We detected anomalous energy signatures from this facility that matched no known patterns in our database. Given your... associates' unique nature, it seemed logical to utilize their expertise in identifying the source."
"You didn't know what would happen when you started poking holes between dimensions," Shiki observed with quiet intensity. "Now you're concerned about unintended consequences."
A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Sweet Mask's perfect features before he controlled it. "Your perceptiveness is remarkable. Yes, certain... anomalies have appeared in the energy signatures. Patterns we cannot account for in our calculations."
"So you used us as dimensional bloodhounds," Saitama concluded with unexpected insight. "To sniff out whatever's leaking through."
"A crude but not inaccurate analogy," Sweet Mask acknowledged. "Though I prefer to think of it as utilizing specialized consultants for their unique expertise."
Saitama's expression remained neutral, but something hardened in his usually disinterested gaze. "You could have just asked."
"Would you have believed the full explanation?" Sweet Mask countered smoothly. "Or would you have dismissed it as bureaucratic complications? Your reputation for... directness is well documented."
Before Saitama could respond, the central platform began to pulse with increasing intensity. Alarms sounded at several monitoring stations as technicians called out readings with growing urgency.
"Resonance cascade initiating!"
"Boundary integrity at 64% and falling!"
"Unscheduled manifestation detected!"
The scientist who had greeted them rushed to a central console, his earlier composure replaced by professional alarm. "Energy pattern doesn't match our target parameters! This isn't our doing!"
Sweet Mask's perfect facade cracked slightly as he barked orders to the scrambling technicians. "Containment protocols! Shut down the conduit immediately!"
"Unable to terminate connection," a technician reported frantically. "Something's holding the pathway open from the other side!"
The circular platform now glowed with blinding intensity, the symbols around its edge rotating with increasing speed as reality itself seemed to warp and bulge at its center. The air filled with the smell of ozone and something else—something ancient and otherworldly.
Shiki moved closer to Saitama, her knife appearing in her hand with fluid grace. "Whatever's coming through isn't like us," she warned quietly. "It's older. Wilder. Less bound by rules."
"Dangerous?" Saitama asked simply.
A rare expression of uncertainty crossed Shiki's face. "Unknown. But nothing breaches dimensional barriers by accident."
As if in response to her assessment, the center of the platform erupted in a column of shimmering energy that shot toward the ceiling. Reality fractured around it, revealing glimpses of impossible landscapes and writhing shadows beyond normal perception.
From this chaotic breach emerged a figure—tall and inhuman, with too many joints and angles that seemed to shift when viewed directly. Its form stabilized gradually into something resembling a man in elaborate robes, though the impression of wrongness remained like a visual echo around its edges.
The entity surveyed the laboratory with eyes that changed color as it observed, eventually fixing its unsettling gaze on Saitama and Shiki.
"How unexpected," it said in a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. "I sensed the boundary weakening, but I did not anticipate finding one of the Eyes here. And with such an... unusual companion."
Its attention focused more specifically on Saitama, head tilting at an angle that no human neck should permit. "You are not what you appear to be, are you? How fascinating."
Sweet Mask stepped forward with remarkable composure given the circumstances. "Identify yourself and state your purpose for this unauthorized manifestation."
The entity's attention shifted to him with casual disregard. "Your primitive summoning matrix created weakness in the barriers. I simply... investigated." Its form rippled slightly, like heat haze over pavement. "As for identification, you may call me Observer. A professional courtesy from one watcher to another."
Its gaze returned to Shiki. "The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Rare even among your kind. You are far from your proper sphere, little killer."
"As are you," Shiki replied evenly, her own eyes shifting color to match the entity's supernatural perception.
The Observer seemed delighted by this response. "Indeed! Displaced entities recognizing one another across the void. Poetic, is it not?" Its attention shifted to Saitama once more. "And you... you should not exist as you are. A living impossibility. Most intriguing."
Throughout this exchange, Saitama's expression remained typically impassive, though he positioned himself subtly between the entity and Shiki in what might have been a protective gesture.
"So you just popped in to say hello?" he asked with characteristic directness.
The Observer's form rippled with what might have been amusement. "Curiosity drives much of existence, does it not? When barriers thin, exploration is natural." Its shifting gaze swept across the laboratory. "Your little realm has experienced significant dimensional irregularities recently. Multiple summonings of significant power. Barriers stretched beyond their natural tolerance."
Sweet Mask's perfect features tightened almost imperceptibly. "Our research is conducted under strict protocols—"
"Your research," the Observer interrupted with casual dismissal, "is a child playing with forces beyond comprehension. You tear holes between realms without understanding the tapestry you damage."
Its form expanded slightly, causing nearby equipment to spark and monitoring screens to flicker with interference. "Consider this a professional courtesy as well: cease your clumsy probings, or something far less cordial than myself might investigate next."
Before anyone could respond, alarms blared from the exterior of the building. Through the large windows that lined one wall of the laboratory, a brilliant light could be seen on the rooftop where the rest of Saitama's team had been positioned.
"THE PHARAOH SENSES DIMENSIONAL DISTURBANCE!" Nitocris's voice could be heard even through the reinforced glass, her volume impressive even by her usual standards.
"Ah," the Observer noted with something like amusement. "Your other displaced entities grow concerned. How loyal they seem to their unlikely anchor."
The laboratory doors burst open as the remaining Servants arrived with dramatic timing—Altera in the lead with her massive sword at the ready, Nightingale scanning for threats with clinical precision, Nitocris brandishing her glowing staff with divine authority.
Okita moved with swordsman's grace to flank the entity, while Shuten Douji slipped into position with predatory elegance. Genos accompanied them, his mechanical arms already configured for combat.
"Master," Altera acknowledged Saitama with military brevity, her tactical assessment of the Observer evident in her positioning. "Situation report?"
"Dimensional visitor," Saitama explained with characteristic simplicity. "Just talking so far."
"INTERLOPER FROM BEYOND THE VEIL!" Nitocris declared dramatically, her staff pulsing with spiritual energy. "THE PHARAOH DEMANDS YOU STATE YOUR INTENTIONS!"
The Observer's form rippled with what might have been delight. "How marvelous! A complete collection of misplaced legends, gathered around a living anomaly. This realm grows more interesting by the moment."
"Your physiological structure violates conventional biological parameters," Nightingale observed clinically, her stance shifting subtly to combat readiness despite her analytical tone.
"Your presence generates tactical instability," Altera assessed, her sword glowing with contained power. "State your strategic objectives."
"Such formality from beings so far from home," the Observer noted with detached amusement. "Have you not wondered why you were summoned to this particular anchor? Why this impossible existence drew you across dimensional boundaries?"
Its shifting gaze fixed on Saitama once more. "He breaks the rules without even trying. Exists beyond normal parameters without effort or intent. A living boundary violation that reality simply... accepts."
The Servants exchanged brief glances, this external confirmation of their own observations creating a moment of silent communication between them.
"We know what our Master is," Okita stated with quiet certainty.
"THE PHARAOH REQUIRES NO EXTERNAL VALIDATION OF HER DIVINE JUDGEMENT!" Nitocris declared, though with less bombast than usual.
"Tactical assessment of compatibility factors was completed upon summoning," Altera added with military precision.
"His physiological uniqueness was immediately apparent upon examination," Nightingale confirmed clinically.
"Some treasures reveal their true value only to those with the wisdom to recognize it," Shuten Douji observed with uncharacteristic sincerity.
Shiki said nothing, but her position beside Saitama spoke volumes about her own assessment.
The Observer's form contracted slightly, as if in contemplation. "Fascinating. Displaced entities forming genuine bonds rather than mere contractual obligations. The dimensional anomalies run deeper than anticipated."
Its attention shifted to the Hero Association scientists, who had pressed themselves against the laboratory walls in fear. "Your clumsy attempts to replicate natural phenomena have created unforeseen consequences. The barriers between worlds grow thin. What was once impossible becomes merely improbable."
Sweet Mask, to his credit, maintained his composure in the face of this cosmic threat. "If you're issuing a warning, we acknowledge receipt. The Association will review its dimensional research protocols accordingly."
"So diplomatic," the Observer noted with detached amusement. "Yet your thoughts betray more ambitious intentions." Its form began to fade slightly around the edges, as if returning to whatever realm it had emerged from. "Remember this encounter when next you consider tearing holes between worlds. Not all who might step through are as... conversational as I."
As it faded further, its final words seemed to hang in the air like an echo: "Until we meet again, impossible one. Your story grows more intriguing by the moment."
With that cryptic farewell, the Observer vanished, the dimensional portal collapsing behind it with a sound like thunder compressed into a single heartbeat. Equipment throughout the laboratory sparked and failed as the normal laws of physics reasserted themselves with almost vindictive force.
For several long moments, silence reigned in the aftermath of the entity's departure. Then Saitama, with characteristic understatement, broke the tension.
"So... mission accomplished? We identified the weird energy thing."
Sweet Mask's perfect composure finally cracked into something resembling genuine emotion—a complex mixture of frustration, calculation, and reluctant respect. "Not precisely the outcome we anticipated, but informative nonetheless."
"Your dimensional experiments drew the attention of entities beyond your control parameters," Nightingale stated clinically, her assessment cutting through diplomatic niceties. "Continued research along these lines presents significant existential risk factors."
"THE PHARAOH ADVISES AGAINST FURTHER MEDDLING WITH THE BARRIERS BETWEEN REALMS!" Nitocris declared with unusually practical wisdom beneath her royal bombast. "DIVINE AUTHORITY RECOGNIZES WHEN MORTALS TREAD WHERE THEY SHOULD NOT!"
"Tactical assessment indicates fundamental flaws in your approach," Altera added with military precision. "Controlled summoning requires compatible anchors. You lack suitable candidates."
"You cannot force what must be freely given," Okita observed quietly, her swordsman's wisdom carrying particular weight in the silence that followed.
"Some powers are not meant to be leashed," Shuten Douji noted with dangerous sweetness. "They bite when handled incorrectly."
Throughout this exchange, Shiki remained silent, her penetrating gaze fixed on the now-empty summoning platform with an intensity that suggested she was seeing beyond its physical presence to the metaphysical damage it represented.
Sweet Mask, recovering his composure with professional rapidity, turned to the still-trembling scientists. "Shut it down. All of it. Full containment protocols and data quarantine until further notice."
As the laboratory personnel scrambled to comply, he addressed Saitama directly. "This incident will require comprehensive debriefing. The Association will want your team's complete observations and assessments."
"Can it wait until tomorrow?" Saitama asked practically. "We just finished a mission, and I was hoping to catch the late-night sale at the corner market."
This unexpected response, so characteristic of Saitama yet so incongruous given the cosmic significance of what had just transpired, created a moment of cognitive dissonance that even Sweet Mask's perfect poise couldn't entirely hide.
"I... suppose the preliminary reports can be filed in the morning," he conceded with visible effort. "Though I would appreciate your discretion regarding today's events. Certain aspects of Project Threshold remain classified."
"THE PHARAOH DOES NOT ENGAGE IN COMMON GOSSIP!" Nitocris assured him with royal dignity.
"Operational security is standard tactical protocol," Altera added pragmatically.
"Medical confidentiality extends to all observed phenomena," Nightingale stated professionally.
"A warrior's discretion is part of our code," Okita confirmed with formal certainty.
"Some secrets are too delicious to share widely," Shuten Douji agreed with enigmatic pleasure.
Shiki, as usual, offered no verbal assurance, her silence its own form of commitment.
As they departed the facility, leaving the Association scientists to their containment protocols and Sweet Mask to his damage control, a subtle shift had occurred in the dynamic between Saitama and his Servants. Their arrival at the crucial moment had not been coincidence or disobedience, but rather an intuitive response to a perceived threat to their Master—a collective decision made without explicit communication.
Once outside in the cool night air, walking toward the promised convenience store sale, Saitama finally addressed this unspoken development.
"You guys didn't actually stay put, did you?"
"Tactical assessment indicated potential escalation scenarios requiring immediate reinforcement," Altera explained without apology.
"Physiological stress indicators in the building exceeded predetermined safety thresholds," Nightingale added clinically.
"THE PHARAOH SENSED DISTURBANCE IN THE SPIRITUAL REALM THAT DEMANDED IMMEDIATE DIVINE INTERVENTION!" Nitocris declared with honest concern beneath her usual bombast.
"A warrior's duty is to anticipate threats before they fully materialize," Okita stated simply.
"I merely thought the conversation might benefit from additional participants," Shuten Douji suggested with false innocence.
Shiki, walking slightly apart from the others, offered her own quiet explanation. "We felt it. All of us. When the boundary cracked open."
Saitama considered this for a moment, then nodded with his characteristic simplicity. "Makes sense. Thanks for backing me up."
This simple expression of gratitude, offered without grandiosity or excessive emotion, nonetheless created a moment of profound connection between Master and Servants. No elaborate speeches or dramatic declarations were needed—the acknowledgment itself was sufficient.
"So," Saitama continued, ever practical, "that Observer thing seemed to think you guys being here isn't just random bad luck for my grocery budget. Any thoughts on that?"
The Servants exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them before Altera spoke.
"Summoning requires compatibility factors that transcend conventional understanding," she explained with tactical precision. "The statistical improbability of six Servants responding to a single untrained Master suggests underlying causality beyond random chance."
"YOUR EXTRAORDINARY NATURE CREATES RESONANCE PATTERNS ACROSS DIMENSIONAL BARRIERS!" Nitocris elaborated with surprising insight. "THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES DIVINE ORCHESTRATION WHEN SHE WITNESSES IT!"
"Physiological anomalies often generate metaphysical consequences," Nightingale observed clinically. "Your unique biological parameters likely project influence beyond conventional spatial limitations."
"In the Shinsengumi, we believed certain souls were destined to find each other across time and circumstance," Okita added thoughtfully. "Perhaps similar principles apply across dimensions as well."
"Some connections transcend the arbitrary boundaries of worlds and realities," Shuten Douji suggested with uncharacteristic philosophy. "Like calls to like across the void."
Only Shiki remained silent, walking beside Saitama with quiet certainty that required no explanation.
Saitama absorbed these perspectives with surprising thoughtfulness. "So basically, this was supposed to happen? Us meeting, I mean."
"Causality is perhaps too simple a concept," Altera clarified. "Strategic probability convergence would be more accurate."
Seeing Saitama's slightly puzzled expression, Okita offered a simpler explanation. "It was unlikely, but not accidental."
"THE PHARAOH PREFERS TO VIEW IT AS DESTINY!" Nitocris declared with characteristic enthusiasm.
"Statistical inevitability within a multiverse framework," Nightingale suggested with clinical precision.
"A fortunate alignment of desires and possibilities," Shuten Douji purred with suggestive ambiguity.
Shiki finally spoke, her quiet words carrying particular weight. "You exist beyond normal parameters. We exist beyond normal boundaries. The intersection was... natural."
As they continued toward the promised convenience store, the conversation shifted to more immediate concerns—what snacks to purchase, whether cup noodles were included in the sale, Nitocris's ongoing fascination with brightly colored candy—yet something fundamental had changed in their collective understanding.
They were not simply Master and Servants bound by a magical contract and cosmic coincidence. They were connected by something more profound—a resonance across dimensional barriers that had drawn legendary beings to an extraordinary anomaly. Whether destiny or statistical inevitability, the result was the same: six legendary heroes had found their place beside the strongest hero, forming bonds that transcended conventional understanding.
And Saitama, for perhaps the first time since achieving his overwhelming strength, found himself facing something truly new—not a physical challenge to be overcome with a single punch, but a complex web of relationships and cosmic implications that even his incredible power couldn't simplify.
As they reached the convenience store with its promised late-night discounts, Saitama paused at the entrance, looking back at his extraordinary companions with an expression that, while still characteristically subdued, contained something rarely seen on his features: genuine curiosity about what might come next.
## Chapter 11: Midnight Reflections and Morning Revelations
Long after their return from the convenience store (where Saitama had indeed found excellent discounts on cup noodles), the East Complex fell into the quiet rhythms of night. Most of the Servants had retired to their respective rooms, processing the evening's revelations in their own ways.
Saitama found himself unable to sleep despite the comfortable accommodations. The Observer's cryptic statements and the implications of deliberately created summoning circles occupied his usually uncomplicated thoughts with unusual persistence.
Rather than remain in his room staring at the ceiling, he made his way to the complex's rooftop garden—a beautifully designed space that offered panoramic views of Z-City's glittering skyline.
To his mild surprise, he was not alone in his midnight wanderings. Shiki sat cross-legged near the edge of the roof, her red jacket vibrant against the night sky, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if seeing far beyond the physical cityscape.
"Can't sleep either?" Saitama asked, moving to sit beside her with casual familiarity.
"I don't require much rest," she replied, her standard answer softened by a glance that acknowledged the developing pattern of their midnight conversations.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the distant city sounds creating a gentle backdrop to their shared contemplation.
"That Observer thing," Saitama eventually said, "it seemed pretty interested in you. Called you an 'Eye' or something."
Shiki's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception are rare even among my kind. They allow me to see the inherent mortality in all things—the points and lines where existence can be severed."
"Sounds complicated."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Most things are. Except you."
"You keep saying that," Saitama observed with mild curiosity. "That I'm simple or impossible or whatever."
"Because you are," she replied without judgment. "You've reduced existence to its purest form—overwhelming power achieved through pure determination, unburdened by cosmic rules or metaphysical complications."
She turned to face him directly, her blue eyes shifting subtly to reveal the supernatural perception beneath. "Everyone and everything I've ever encountered has lines where they can be cut—where death will find them eventually. Except you. You exist beyond such limitations."
Saitama absorbed this assessment with unexpected thoughtfulness. "Is that why that Observer seemed so interested? Because I'm... weird?"
"You're an anomaly," Shiki corrected gently. "A living impossibility that reality simply accepts rather than rejecting. Such paradoxes draw attention across dimensional barriers."
Their philosophical conversation was interrupted by the soft sound of approaching footsteps. Both turned to see Altera, her white hair and red markings visible even in the dim rooftop lighting.
"Tactical perimeter assessment," she explained by way of greeting, though her presence seemed motivated by more than simple security protocols. "The Observer's manifestation suggests potential for further dimensional incursions."
"You think more things might pop through?" Saitama asked directly.
"Strategic probability analysis suggests increased likelihood of extraplanar contact following initial boundary compromise," Altera confirmed with military precision. "Tactical prudence requires enhanced vigilance."
Before their conversation could continue, the rooftop door opened again to admit Nightingale, her clinical gaze sweeping over them with professional assessment.
"Nocturnal wakefulness patterns following significant stress events are not uncommon," she observed by way of explanation for her own presence. "Proper medical monitoring includes attention to psychological recovery parameters."
"THE PHARAOH SENSED A GATHERING WITHOUT ROYAL REPRESENTATION!" came Nitocris's familiar declaration as she too emerged onto the rooftop, her volume mercifully moderated given the late hour.
"I was wondering when the rest of you would join us," Shuten Douji's voice purred from the shadows of a nearby ornamental tree, revealing she had been present all along, observing with characteristic stealth.
The final arrival was Okita, who appeared with swordsman's silence, offering a formal nod to Saitama before taking her place in what had become an impromptu midnight council.
"Seems like nobody's sleeping tonight," Saitama observed, looking around at his gathered Servants with mild amusement.
"Sleep cycles can be adjusted to accommodate extraordinary circumstances," Nightingale stated practically. "Today's events qualify as sufficiently extraordinary to warrant schedule modification."
"THE PHARAOH'S DIVINE CONTEMPLATION WAS DISTURBED BY COSMIC IMPLICATIONS!" Nitocris admitted with unusual honesty. "THE BOUNDARIES BETWEEN REALMS ARE NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH BY MORTAL HANDS!"
"Tactical assessment of potential threats requires comprehensive analysis," Altera explained, her military mind evidently processing the day's events with characteristic thoroughness.
"A warrior remains vigilant when new enemies reveal themselves," Okita added quietly, her hand resting lightly on her katana's hilt even in this peaceful moment.
"Besides," Shuten Douji noted with a mischievous smile, "midnight gatherings have such delicious intimacy, don't they? Secrets shared in darkness carry special weight."
Throughout these explanations, Shiki remained silent, her presence beside Saitama requiring no justification.
As they settled into a loose circle, an unusual vulnerability seemed to permeate their gathering—legendary beings momentarily stripped of their mythic facades, revealing the uncertainties that lay beneath their extraordinary capabilities.
"The Observer's appearance changes our situational assessment," Altera began formally, her tactical mind naturally organizing their discussion. "Dimensional barriers are compromised beyond our initial understanding."
"The Hero Association's attempts to replicate summoning phenomena without proper comprehension of underlying principles presents significant risk factors," Nightingale analyzed clinically. "Their approach lacks fundamental safeguards against extraplanar contamination."
"THE PHARAOH QUESTIONS THE WISDOM OF MORTALS WHO SEEK TO COMMAND DIVINE FORCES!" Nitocris declared with surprising insight beneath her usual bombast. "SUCH POWER FLOWS FROM PROPER CHANNELS, NOT MECHANICAL MANIPULATION!"
"The Shinsengumi understood that some forces cannot be controlled, only respected," Okita observed quietly. "These scientists seek mastery where they should seek harmony."
"There's a certain arrogance in believing you can leash powers beyond your comprehension," Shuten Douji mused, her usual playfulness giving way to ancient wisdom. "It rarely ends well for the would-be master."
Throughout this exchange, Shiki remained silent, her penetrating gaze moving between her fellow Servants as they shared their perspectives. When she finally spoke, her quiet words carried particular weight.
"The boundaries were already weakening before the Association's experiments," she stated with quiet certainty. "Our summoning was not entirely coincidence, nor was it solely the result of Saitama's action. Something larger is unfolding."
This assessment created a moment of profound silence among the gathered Servants, each processing its implications with their unique perspective.
"Strategic probability analysis suggests coordinated causality rather than random boundary failure," Altera eventually concluded with military precision. "A pattern emerges that transcends coincidence."
"Multiple independent system failures occurring simultaneously typically indicate underlying common factors," Nightingale agreed, applying clinical methodology to metaphysical phenomena.
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE HAND OF FATE WHEN IT MANIFESTS!" Nitocris declared with absolute conviction. "COSMIC FORCES ALIGN FOR PURPOSE, NOT CHAOS!"
"In battle, there are no coincidences—only opportunities recognized or missed," Okita added, her warrior's wisdom applying effortlessly to their supernatural circumstances.
"The most interesting stories are those where seemingly random threads reveal themselves as part of a larger tapestry," Shuten Douji observed with ancient perspective beneath her playful demeanor.
Throughout this increasingly metaphysical discussion, Saitama had remained characteristically quiet, absorbing their perspectives with surprising attentiveness. When he finally spoke, his simple question cut through the cosmic complexity with characteristic directness.
"So what do we do about it?"
Six pairs of eyes turned to him with varying expressions of surprise and consideration. His question, unencumbered by philosophical complexity or cosmic speculation, brought their discussion firmly back to practical reality.
"Tactical response requires clear strategic objectives," Altera acknowledged, momentarily stymied by the fundamental simplicity of Saitama's approach.
"Medical protocols cannot be established without specific diagnosis parameters," Nightingale concurred, her clinical precision temporarily inadequate for such open-ended planning.
"THE PHARAOH'S DIVINE MIGHT STANDS READY, BUT REQUIRES DIRECTION!" Nitocris declared, her enthusiasm momentarily exceeding her strategic vision.
"A warrior's blade is most effective when the target is clearly defined," Okita observed thoughtfully.
"Even the most delightful chaos benefits from occasional purpose," Shuten Douji agreed with surprising practicality.
Only Shiki seemed unsurprised by Saitama's straightforward question. The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she met his gaze with quiet understanding.
"We watch," she suggested simply. "We wait. And when the pattern becomes clear enough for action, we act."
Saitama nodded, satisfied with this practical approach amidst cosmic uncertainty. "Sounds good to me."
As their midnight council gradually shifted to more casual conversation—Nitocris enthusiastically describing the modifications she planned for her room, Altera discussing tactical improvements to the complex's security systems, Nightingale detailing her reorganization of the medical facilities—Saitama found himself observing his Servants with new perspective.
These legendary beings, each powerful enough to alter reality in their own way, had gathered around him not merely because of some magical contract or cosmic coincidence, but because something in his impossible existence resonated with their extraordinary natures. The Observer had seen it. They had felt it. And now, even Saitama himself was beginning to recognize it—the strange harmony between his straightforward strength and their complex powers.
As dawn approached, painting the horizon with the first hints of golden light, the group gradually dispersed—Altera to complete her security assessment, Nightingale to prepare medical supplies for the day ahead, Nitocris to continue her room modifications with "DIVINE INSPIRATION FROM THE NIGHT'S CONTEMPLATION!"
Okita departed with a formal bow, her disciplined nature already preparing for morning training. Shuten Douji slipped away with characteristic grace, her parting smile suggesting pleasant dreams awaited those wise enough to