The evening wind was faintly tipsy, carrying with it a trace of coolness and the smell of smoke.
Fewer and fewer pedestrians walked the streets. The night grew quieter and quieter. Compared to before, there seemed to be something else hidden in the flow of the wind, something that made one uneasy. More and more "accidents" were appearing on TV, being passed around people's mouths. Slowly, people grew unwilling to go outside, preferring to stay at home. Home, after all, always gave them a sense of safety.
The air was heavy with unease and worry. It made the chest feel tight.
Carefully, Shimazaki Yuna carried the last plate of food to the table. As she untied her apron, she raised her voice toward the other room.
"Van Gogh, come out, it's time to eat."
"O… okay… coming…"
The reply was so small, it could easily have been missed.
The door cracked open a sliver. Van Gogh peeked out timidly, sniffing. The fragrance of food in the air made her expression glaze with longing. Her eyes, fixed on the table, shimmered with starlight.
"Dinner… dinner… dinner… Alice's banquet… family and friends all gather… family and friends all at the table…"
Like Jerry the mouse bewitched by the smell of cheese, Van Gogh hopped forward with light, happy steps, heading straight for the table—
Only to be stopped by Yuna.
"Van Gogh, did you forget what I told you before?"
Hands on her hips, Yuna put on a stern face, pretending to be strict. "What are you supposed to do before eating?"
Van Gogh reluctantly tore her gaze from the food. She blinked at Yuna's words, momentarily confused.
"Before eating… I must… wash hands…"
"No washing, no sitting at the table. Especially after painting. You've gotten paint on your hands again, haven't you? Do you want to eat my cooking together with paint?"
"Yuna… such good eyes… and so strict… eheh… because with 'good eyes' comes 'strictness'? Ufufu eheh… a joke. A Van Gogh joke…"
She halfheartedly rinsed her hands, then scampered back, clearly not clean. Finally, Yuna dragged her into the bathroom and made her scrub properly, again and again, before allowing her to sit and eat.
"So good… Yuna's cooking, still so good… it's been so long since I ate Yuna's food… so happy… eheh…"
"It's only been three days."
Yuna said it offhandedly, "Honestly, what are you even doing? Middle of the night, suddenly it's bright as day, then the whole neighborhood's power went out. And stayed out for three days. Lately there's just been too much going on… And you, Van Gogh, if the power's out, just stop painting for a few nights. Candlelight ruins your eyes."
"Eheh… Yuna… caring for Van Gogh… being cared for… makes the place where the heart beats warm… swelling… b-but… it's okay. Van Gogh's used to it. Reminds Van Gogh of painting by a gas lamp in a little house… it feels safe…"
They lived on the outskirts of the city. Yuna had chosen the place for its seclusion, its peace, away from interference. A good environment for painting.
But tonight, several people arrived at their door. The bell rang.
Ding-dong—
Yuna, busy cleaning dishes, froze at the sound.
After all, both she and Van Gogh avoided people. They had no friends. No one usually visited. She hadn't ordered a delivery either…
"Coming, coming…"
Still in her apron, she wiped her damp hands, walked toward the door.
Opening it, she was met with the sight of a woman in a business suit, exuding the polished air of a seasoned professional.
Behind her stood several others dressed similarly, carrying the same pressure of long-term elites. But it was clear they were her subordinates, waiting quietly behind.
Yuna froze. Her shy nature seized her body stiff. Even her words turned cautious.
"Um… excuse me, you are…?"
"Good evening. My name is Kikuchihara Aki, government coordinator for special incidents."
The woman handed over her business card, then presented her official credentials.
"I apologize for not explaining here. Circumstances are urgent. Please cooperate with us and come along. We will explain on the way."
The proof, the weight of government authority, the many eyes upon her—Yuna panicked instantly.
"N-no… don't take me… I still have to care for Van Gogh… Van Gogh can't be without me… uwaaa…"
Her face went white. Distress flooded her features, on the verge of tears.
The suited men behind faltered, unsure how to respond.
Even Kikuchihara herself was momentarily at a loss. She turned to the side—meeting Meteora's gaze.
Wordlessly, Meteora stepped forward.
...
Several days passed since the bridge incident.
Though the ambulance had been for nothing—Alicetaria's mortal wounds had mysteriously vanished—she still needed a checkup. Meteora performed it.
At their base, Alicetaria cooperated fully, even transforming again into that divine form. Though Meteora and the others had heard of it, seeing it with their own eyes shocked them.
Mirokuji Yūya reflexively summoned Hangaku. Sweat beaded in his palm as he gripped his blade.
That pressure… not simply strength. It was difference of life's very tier. The suppression of higher being over lower.
"God…? That's the closest word. Now, you truly resemble what humans imagine of a god."
That was Meteora's evaluation of Alicetaria's new form.
Once Meteora gathered her data, Alicetaria and Mamika left. They had to return to Altair.
Selesia's group did not stop them.
Then came the news—startling and precious.
Mizushino Sōta and Matsubara Takashi had discovered Altair's true identity!
The monsters, their summoner, that threat was greater perhaps—but Altair could not be forgotten.
Records showed: August 23, unexplained interference and magnetic anomaly. That was when Altair first appeared. The first Created.
The others—Selesia, Meteora, Alicetaria—were all drawn here by her. Alicetaria herself said Altair brought them to fight the mind-corrupting monsters, to seek their help.
Alicetaria chose to join. Selesia's side refused, deeming her untrustworthy.
…Well, except Kanoya Rui, who had never even been invited. He had simply fought her once, and been pounded thoroughly.
Meanwhile, Meteora had raised her hypothesis. This world had a limit. Too much interference from the Created could trigger collapse. She called it the "Great Collapse."
Before leaving, Alicetaria and Mamika were asked. Did Altair speak of this? Meteora suspected they had been deceived.
But—no. Altair had told them. They had chosen to cooperate knowing her actions could trigger the Collapse.
"Altair told us her power is greater than what we've seen. But this world's corrective force suppresses her. If she pushes too far, reality will reject her, eject her forcibly. To fight the monsters, she must break that suppression. She brought us into reality not only for help, but also to weaken that corrective power."
That was Alicetaria's explanation.
Hearing it, Meteora frowned. For one instant, a strange feeling stirred in her chest. And then was gone. She dismissed it as illusion.
Still, they pressed the investigation of Altair's identity.
Now—everyone gathered.
Mizushino Sōta. Matsubara Takashi. Mariné. Nakami Akira. Selesia. Meteora. Yūya. Kanoya Rui.
Yūya came late, to Selesia's surprise.
"You actually came? Normally you vanish. Never answer calls."
"I don't like being leashed."
With a cocky grin, Yūya flopped into a chair, propped his legs on the table. "I hear you found the Creator of that little uniform brat? How could I miss something this fun? Hahaha!"
Matsubara sat near Sōta. He patted the boy's shoulder with a smile.
"Thanks to you, we found her Creator, and through that uncovered Altair's identity. Nice work, kid!"
"N-no… it wasn't much…"
Sōta scratched his head awkwardly. "I just mentioned it. Most of the work was Kikuchihara-san and Mariné-san…"
They had only two clues: Altair was from some work, and her appearance. Finding her among endless characters was impossible. Even with government help, progress was slow.
Sōta had joined the effort. Young, inexperienced—but he had seen countless works. He had been the first to recognize Selesia, Yūya, Alicetaria.
When he saw Altair's file, he remembered that night. The night his life turned upside down. The night he met Selesia. The night he saw Altair.
He remembered: in the park, Altair had dominated. But then suddenly—her face shifted to shock, as if she saw the impossible.
And then—she retreated. She let him and Selesia go.
He mentioned this to Kikuchihara. She launched an investigation into what Altair had looked at.
And they found it.
Though the battle's noise had drawn onlookers after, before Altair's retreat there had been few nearby. Tracking was easy. Far easier than searching endless works for one design.
Now, they were about to meet this "Creator of Altair."
Most had never seen her, only read the reports. Curiosity burned.
Except Meteora. She had gone with Kikuchihara to invite her.
"Altair's Creator… just happens to be the sole witness of the bookstore incident. Quite the coincidence."
Meteora had wanted to meet Shimazaki Yuna since that day. Now she had the chance.
The room simmered with anticipation.
Until—Kikuchihara entered with two people.
At once, anticipation turned to shock.
"Allow me to introduce."
Facing their stares, Kikuchihara's expression remained calm, voice steady.
"This is the author of the manga Fate/Grand Order, Miss Van Gogh. Full name: Clytie Van Gogh."
"H-hello… Van Gogh is Van Gogh…"
She trembled, chuckled eerily. Her voice was small, uncertain. "Hobby… is painting. I'm not much, but… please take care of me… eheh…"
"And this…"
Kikuchihara continued, tone unchanged.
"…is Altair's Creator. Also Van Gogh's manga assistant—Miss Shimazaki Setsuna. Full name: Shimazaki Yuna."
Face taut with nerves, Yuna bowed stiffly.
"…Hello. I'm Shimazaki Yuna."
---
T/N: SHE CREATED FGO LMAOOOO