The mirrors rotated, and a series of data emerged before Leonel and the Servants:
[Analysis activated.]
Lesser Dragon A: Weak point - neck, behind the bony crest.
Lesser Dragon B: Low magical resistance. Vulnerable to light-type attacks.
Fafnir: Enchanted core. Blind spot: right flank. Breath charging: 82%.
Tezcatlipoca's voice resonated clearly:
"Tactical diversion suggested. Elevated defense in three seconds. Servant Nero: aim for the base of the left wing."
Mash raised her shield just as a fireblast impacted. Tezcatlipoca's aura seemed to strengthen her defense, dispersing part of the fire as if strategy itself were protecting her.
Jeanne charged with her shining banner, guided by the information. Her strikes were precise, as if she knew beforehand where to break the scales.
Nero laughed, the fire reflected in her scarlet eyes.
"Magnificent! Even without fighting, this spirit gives us an advantage! Victory will be mine, of course, but I admit your support is bellissimo!" she shouted, piercing a lesser dragon's throat with an elegant thrust.
Leonel remained in the rear, but each word from Tezcatlipoca increased their options. Each floating mirror revealed a new advantage. Even Fafnir hesitated, retreating a few steps, confused by the illusory smoke emanating from the god.
"Fafnir disoriented. Viable retreat. Optimal escape time: now."
Mash nodded immediately.
"Leonel, we must go!"
"Jeanne, Nero, let's move!"
The three Servants covered the retreat with surgical precision. Guided by Tezcatlipoca's infinite gaze, each step was exact, each defense at the precise instant.
And when they were far enough away, the smoke dissipated, and the god returned to his mirror.
A little later...
Leonel fell to his knees, exhausted but alive.
The Servants approached him. Jeanne looked at him with surprise and respect.
"What was that...?"
He took a deep breath.
"I don't fully know. But... I think that's my way of fighting. Not with strength. With knowledge."
Location: Improvised base after the combat. Remains of dragons smolder in the distance. Mash tends to Nero while Jeanne keeps watch. Night falls heavily.
Mash Kyrielight approached with a worried expression.
"Senpai... what you did before. That being... that entity that appeared when you shouted 'Persona'. What was it?"
Leonel swallowed. Jeanne also approached, crossing her arms softly but with a firm look.
"It wasn't a Servant. Not a Noble Phantasm. It wasn't magic. But it helped us... and knew exactly how to guide the fight."
On the communication screen, Dr. Romani blinked into the transmission.
"Could you explain what that was, Leonel? Its energy signature doesn't match anything in Chaldea's database. It's as if it came from a completely different plane..." He trailed off, scratching his head.
"Fascinating..." Da Vinci murmured, narrowing her eyes with interest from the other end of the connection. "What you used had symbolic architecture similar to a divided soul. And the form... that being had a presence bordering on the divine. We don't recognize it as any Heroic Spirit."
Leonel raised his hands, nervous, trying to maintain his best "I know nothing" face.
"Me? I just... felt something inside me asking to come out. I shouted it and that happened. I have no idea how it worked! Maybe... magic from the place?"
Mash pressed her lips together. Jeanne observed more calmly, though she missed nothing.
"...Even though you say that," Jeanne said softly, "there was determination in your eyes. As if you knew it."
Leonel smiled awkwardly and faked a yawn.
"I'm exhausted! We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? My brain is more fried than dragon on a bonfire."
Time: That same night. The world disappears like sand carried by the wind, and an invisible train carries him between dreams.
When he opens his eyes, he is seated in a blue velvet armchair. The infinite walls of the Velvet Room rotate slowly like floating clocks. The blue mist dances to the rhythm of ethereal music.
Before him, as always, Igor, with his eternal crooked smile.
"Welcome, Leonel. I am pleased to see you have finally taken the first step toward your true awakening."
Selene, the young woman with golden eyes and white hair tipped with blue, is beside him. Unlike their first meeting, she no longer looks at him with pure skepticism. Her eyes have a glint of... hope?
"You didn't do too badly. You didn't faint, you didn't scream, and you helped your allies survive. Not bad for a beginner," she said with a small, lopsided smile.
Leonel settled in, feeling slightly less intimidated.
"So... that was what you expected, wasn't it? That 'Tezcatlipoca.'"
Igor nodded slowly, interlacing his fingers.
"Tezcatlipoca is your Persona. The manifestation of your spirit, your inner truth. Not a warrior in itself, but an observer of the world, a weaver of possibilities. Its strength lies not in direct combat, but in knowledge, strategy, and perception of the soul."
Selene snapped her fingers, and one of Tezcatlipoca's smoking mirrors floated before them. On its surface, scenes from the previous battle repeated like encoded memories.
"The mirror reflects what can be. But it's up to you to decide what to do with what you see," she added.
Igor continued:
"This room exists for those who have been chosen by fate to walk between realities. Your role is not just to fight, Leonel. It is to guide. To see beyond the smoke. To help others find their way when darkness blinds them."
Leonel lowered his gaze, more serious.
"Then... I'm not just a random human?"
"No," Selene said, leaning a little towards him. "You are our Guest. And the Velvet Room only opens to those who must make a decision that can change the world."
Igor smiled more broadly.
"Your journey has only just begun, Leonel. Prepare yourself. The balance of the world... may depend on your judgment."
Location: Improvised camp. The sky is just beginning to lighten. The air still smells of dragon ash.
Leonel awoke slowly, feeling the weight of his eyelids and the slight pull in his muscles as if he had run miles in his dreams. He sat up carefully, still wrapped in his blanket. A few meters away, the voices of his companions floated in the air.
"...It wasn't common magic. Not even divine," Jeanne was saying in a low but firm voice. "I felt it. It was as if... another entity awoke with him. Not one of us, not a Heroic Spirit. Something different."
"But it was splendid!" Nero interjected in a more animated tone. "An ally like that, who reads the battlefield and reveals the enemy's blind spots. Truly worthy of the Colosseum's applause! A presence worthy of Rome!"
Mash, sitting between them, gently clenched her gauntlets with a thoughtful expression.
"I can't identify the origin of that manifestation. We didn't receive any analysis from Chaldea either... But still... that being was what made the difference against Fafnir. Thanks to it, we could escape."
"Don't misunderstand me," Jeanne continued, looking toward the horizon. "I'm not saying it's something bad... but if our Master carries such a power and doesn't know how to control it... we could be exposed to risks we don't even understand."
"Oh, dear Maiden," Nero replied with a smile, crossing her legs gracefully. "Danger is part of the art of war. And if our Master's soul ignites with a new fire, we must celebrate it! Hail, Rome!"
Mash looked down for a moment, pensive.
"...I just wish to understand it better. To be able to help him... and protect him, if something goes wrong."
Leonel let out a small sigh from his improvised bed. He couldn't hear every word, but he felt the weight of the conversation. They had noticed everything. No matter how much he played dumb, he couldn't keep hiding it for much longer.
And as the cold dawn wind shook the camp tarps, a certainty was born in his chest:
the journey had only just begun... and Tezcatlipoca wouldn't be the only secret he would have to unveil.
Location: Camp on the outskirts of Orleans. First light of day.
Leonel had barely finished stretching when he was surrounded. Mash was the first to approach, with a serious and worried expression. Jeanne looked at him gravely, while Nero maintained her imperial bearing, though without losing her usual smile.
Shortly after, the magical communicators chirped, and Romani Archaman's voice boomed from Mash's device.
"Leonel, we need to talk. Right now."
Through the portable projector, Romani and Da Vinci manifested with tense faces.
"What was that power you unleashed?" Jeanne asked directly.
"It wasn't normal magic," Mash added, still with doubt in her eyes. "It was as if another presence had appeared beside you... Who was that spirit?"
Leonel crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed slightly, contemplating the gazes of his three Servants and the images of Chaldea's geniuses.
He was cornered.
And though he wished to keep the secret a little longer... he understood that lying to them now would only sow distrust.
"Alright... I'll talk."
Everyone fell silent. Even Nero adopted a more solemn posture, attentive.
"That being... is not a Servant. Nor a magical manifestation like the ones you know.
Its name is... Tezcatlipoca. And it is a Persona."
Mash blinked.
"A... Persona?"
"It's hard to explain, but I'll do my best.
There exist certain places... beyond reality. One of them is called the Velvet Room, a space between dream and consciousness, inhabited by a man named Igor and his assistant, Selene.
It was there that... I awakened to this power. Apparently, my soul is capable of manifesting this entity, a symbolic representation of my true self."
Romani crossed his arms from the monitor.
"You'd never heard of this before? You have no prior connection to this 'Velvet Room'?"
Leonel shook his head, his voice soft but laden with intent.
"No... It was the first time I saw it. I only know what they told me. That I'm capable of summoning Tezcatlipoca and, perhaps, other Personas if circumstances allow."
Da Vinci narrowed her eyes slightly. Her smile was absent.
"How curious..." she murmured. "You speak of that place as if you had walked it before. As if your soul wasn't surprised at all."
Leonel felt a slight chill down his back but maintained his act. He took a step back, closing his eyes briefly.
"I have no more answers for now. I only know that this power isn't here to harm... but to support. Tezcatlipoca is a guide, an eye in the shadows. And if it serves to help you... I will use it responsibly."
A tense silence followed. Jeanne watched him with a hint of concern, Nero seemed satisfied with the half-explanation, and Mash remained doubtful.
From the monitor, Romani nodded, but his gaze didn't soften.
"Very well. But after the Orleans mission, I want us to talk... privately."
Da Vinci simply crossed her arms and added:
"Me too."
Leonel nodded silently, knowing the act wouldn't last forever.
Location: Village north of Orleans, just before dusk.
Gray clouds covered the sky like a shroud. Leonel and his group advanced along a muddy path, surrounded by trees twisted by the fires of war. They hoped to find shelter, perhaps even allies.
But the sepulchral silence warned them first. Then, the smell.
"...Smoke?" Mash murmured, scrutinizing the horizon.
The village was in ruins. Houses burned with an unstable purple fire, magic that crackled as if feeding on suffering. And in the central square...
Screams.
Blood.
Two figures stood among the bodies:
One, a knight in crimson armor, sword raised.
Another, an assassin in a black robe, moving like a shadow among the villagers trying to flee.
"Halt!" Jeanne shouted, raising her standard. "In the name of humanity, that ends now!"
The knight turned slowly. A smile of contempt crossed his face.
"Another falsehood wrapped in faith. Have you come to die, saint?"
Leonel gritted his teeth.
"Tezcatlipoca!"
A dark, vibrant energy surged behind him, and the imposing figure of the Persona emerged, its shining eyes and deep voice resonating in everyone's mind:
"Red Knight: Saber class. Sword technique based on frontal charges. Assassin: stealth techniques, vital points exposed on left flank."
"Recommend encirclement with blunt distraction."
"Mash, to the left! Nero, with me, we're going for the Saber!" Leonel ordered.
"Jeanne, flank the Assassin. Let's go!"
The battle began with precision. The tactics suggested by Tezcatlipoca allowed the group to gain an advantage. Jeanne knocked down the Assassin with a combination of strength and tactics, while Nero faced the Saber with a fury worthy of her imperial title.
But just when it seemed the battle could tilt in their favor...
More magical presences manifested.
Three figures descended from the sky wrapped in darkness: a Caster, a Berserker, and a Rider. Their eyes glowed with hostility.
"Enemy reinforcements!" Mash shouted, preparing to defend Leonel.
And then...
A familiar laugh rumbled through the streets.
"So you still breathe, Jeanne."
The figure of Jeanne Alter appeared amid the smoke's shadows, her black standard waving like a death sentence. Her eyes were alight with rage.
"And you... damned impostor," she pointed at Leonel with hatred. "This time, I'll break you with my own hands!"
Leonel took a step forward, Tezcatlipoca resonating beside him like a protective titan.
"You'll have to try."
Location: Ruined village, shortly after nightfall.
The enemies fell one after another.
Leonel's precision, along with Tezcatlipoca's calculated tactics, turned each of his Servants' attacks into a deadly symphony.
"Mash, cover the flank! Nero, constant pressure on the Saber! Jeanne, protect me from the Caster!" Leonel shouted, his gaze sharp as a dagger.
Tezcatlipoca raised his voice mentally for all allies:
"Enemy Rider: erratic pattern, possible distraction. Berserker: heavy movement, aim for joints."
"Do not yield ground. Maintain triangular formation."
Mash blocked the Berserker with her shield, trembling with each impact, but resisting. Jeanne executed precise blocks, holding back the enemy Caster's dark spells. And Nero, between laughter and fire, launched thrusts that put the enemy Saber in trouble.
But then...
A roar tore through the heavens.
"What the hell...?!" Romani shouted from the spiritual communication.
From the clouds descended a massive shadow: Fafnir, the cursed dragon, its titanic body covered in glowing black runes. A blast of purple fire fell like a storm upon the square.
Mash barely raised her shield in time to protect the group.
"This changes everything!" Jeanne shouted, barely holding back the Caster as she retreated.
"Leonel, we have to retreat!"
"Not yet! We can hold if we regroup!" Leonel growled.
But even he knew Tezcatlipoca's analysis was beginning to lose effectiveness. The variables were too many. The enemies, countless.
And then...
An explosion of light and music interrupted the chaos.
"Vous avez besoin d'une pause, mes amis~"
("Looks like you need a break, my friends~")
A dancing, elegant figure, mounted on a shining carriage pulled by ethereal steeds, entered the scene. Marie Antoinette - Rider - descended with a charming smile and a firm look.
"Les atrocités de cette sorcière ne seront pas les dernières si on ne fait rien."
("The atrocities of this witch won't be the last if we don't do something.")
"You're an ally?!" Mash shouted, relieved and confused.
"Not entirely. But the Grail brought me here, and I don't like tyrants... or village burnings."
Without wasting time, Marie raised her staff and a swirling wave of energy enveloped Leonel's group. The horses neighed, and in a flash of silvery-blue light, everyone vanished from the battlefield.
Jeanne Alter screamed in fury as her standard whipped the scorched earth.
"They flee again! Cowards!"
But Fafnir's roar covered her screams, as the rubble burned under the night.
Location: Clearing near a river, far from the village.
The group reappeared panting, wounded, but alive. Marie dismounted elegantly and, without waiting for applause, said:
"That was a disaster. Delighted to meet you, my heroes. I suppose we have things to discuss. I am Marie Antoinette, pleased to meet you," she said cheerfully.
Leonel, still breathing heavily, looked at the sky with a shadowed face.
"This wasn't a victory. It was a warning."