Chapter 69 — Blood Red Sky (Paid Members)

A quick search in the Tower reveals the whereabouts of one Alexios Athanasiou. After stumbling into the Tower last night, drunker than an 1800s sailor, the Astromancer returned to his room and then dashed out early this morning, dragging two large suitcases to the airport.

It's 7:14 now, so I might still be able to catch him before his flight.

I could wait, but there’s no telling if he’ll return after his trip to Sichuan.

Even if he intends to keep his promise, there’s no guarantee he won’t fall victim to his brother or get caught by the Asian equivalent of the Association for any number of reasons.

The mere presence of his House's members operating in their territory might be enough to stir up trouble.

Just like the tense relationship the Association has with their… Religious counterpart—the Catholic Church, the Tower isn’t exactly on friendly term with the Spiral Manor. It is as they said: Salt and fresh water don’t mix.

By the time I reach Stansted Airport, most flights to China are nearing departure.

Given his frantic departure, I rule out the noon flights immediately.

After reviewing all the options via a healthy dose of [Hypnosis], I’m left with five flights departing within the next two hours. Narrowing it down further to exclude fully booked flights, only one remains with available seats, mainly due to its exorbitantly priced tickets.

“Sir, sir—!”

[Notice-me-not] kicking in, I slip past the bewildered flight attendant, who rubs her eyes and mutters. “… Maybe I should take a day off; I’m seeing things now.”

Maybe she should rest; even makeup can’t hide those heavy bags under her eyes.

As I turn, I suddenly notice two familiar silhouettes in the bustling crowd, which I opt to ignore, like I should have the first time, and continue with my business as per usual.

After a quick search, I finally spot the Astromancer’s rich brown hair in first class. Settling down next to him, I put on the smile Yamamoto Eri practically forced me to practice and tap the Magus on the shoulder, breaking the Perk.

“What—? You!”

“Hi, I’m here about your car’s extended warranty!”

“Those things are usually handled by my driver.”

Tsk… Typical spoiled second-generation rich kid.

“Look, I usually don’t go around collecting debts, but you owe me information.”

I press.

He said it was crucial information, as far as I remember.

“—Please check your luggage and perform a headcount if you’re on a family vacation because the flight will take off in 5 minutes, maybe less.”

“This can’t wait?”

“Wait?” I scof in disdain.

“If you end up dead at your brother’s hands, who am I supposed to turn to for answers? Your House?" We don”t even have a written agreement, so what could I use as proof? How can I be sure his House even knows what he’s talking about?

Yes, blood is thicker than water, but this is a Family of Magi we’re talking about.

There are just too many variables.

It’s best I get the info directly from him and confirm it with Lorelei later. “Quick, the info!”

Laughing to himself, the Astromancer muses, “What if I don’t feel like talking—”

He doesn’t have the chance to finish before my claws rested near his throat, my nails dragging against Alexios’ Adam’s apple as [Elder Fiend] plunges us into a world of unceasing darkness.

“You fancy yourself a showman, so you must know the difference between a performance and an actual fight to the death, right? Last night? That was a show. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have the chance to blink.” Lips curving in a tight-lipped smile, I add. “Though I’m considering a more torturous punishment… What do you say I skin you alive and hang you in front of your Ancestral Workshop?”

“You wouldn’t da—”

All it would take is the slightest bit more pressure from me, and his vocal cords would be soon decorate the plane’s fancy carpet. “Wouldn’t I? You’re speaking to a First-Gen who couldn’t care less about the Tower’s laws. Besides, I’m the consort to your Queen. How much do you think they will penalize me for brutalizing you?”

“Lord Animusphere is extremely protective of his subordinates.”

“Yet he answers to Lorelei still.”

On paper, the Great Lords should be equal in power and political influence, but that can’t be farther from the truth.

Like all forms of Magecraft, Astromancy has been on a downward spiral for centuries—suffering the most alongside [Chimera] and [Yumina]. Although Humanity will always turn to the stars for answers, Astromancy is no longer what it used to be.

There was a time when a select few ‘chosen’ mortals could simply gaze at the Heaven, and it’d reveal to them their secrets.

Now, it takes a Great Ritual just to predict how the stocks will perform tomorrow.

Such a Department… How many are willing to join?

And with so few recruits per year, how much political influence can Animusphere wield?

In fact, even after founding Chaldea in the Grand Order Timeline, Animusphere was still cornered by his political rivals.

It is why his heiress Olga Marie ended up with the position which, let’s be honest, she did a piss-poor job managing.

“—All passengers please fasten your seatbelts. We’re taking off in 5… 4… 3…”

“Aren’t you getting off?”

“I don’t mind visiting China… I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.”

Though it will become a surveillance state in the future, right now it's one of the world's top tourist attractions.

“You’ll cover my flight back, of course. It’s only fair. Now, talk.”

“What do you know about the Mesoamerican Gods?”

“Humans or animals that bonded with Divine Filaments, which empowered them beyond Humanity and led them to be worshipped and their eventual Ascension to Godhood.”

“—2… 1!”

The Magus’s eyes widen and then narrow suspiciously. “How do you know that? That’s classified information.”

“I’m the one asking questions. You answer.”

“… Five years ago, a map was excavated from the burial grounds of a Native American tribe in the wilderness of New Mexico.”

Crossing his legs, Alexios nudges my hand away.

“Within, we found multiple fragments of clay writings, broken into 671 pieces in total that the Magi in the Department of Lore later managed to piece together 2 years after… It was a map left by the Mesoamerican Gods showing where each fragment of the meteorite containing the Divine Filaments scattered on entry to Earth’s atmosphere.”

“I see…”

No wonder…

It’s no wonder the Tower is investing so many resources into these excavations.

This isn’t just a Mystic Code, or even a Noble Phantasm—it’s about attaining Godhood.

It’s the ability to wield Mysteries thought long-lost, the kind of Magecraft that only Gods and Fae could wield.

“How have they kept this from the Wandering Sea?”

The Association is divided into three branches: The Clock Tower, the Atlas Institute, and the Wandering Sea. Among these, Atlas and the Clock Tower have both diverged to Modern Magecraft, while the Wandering Sea is the only Branch that has attempted to—and to some extent succeeded—in preserving the Mysteries of the Age of Gods.

If something involves the Gods of Old, you can bet your ass they’ll be there.

“Never mind the Sea, how has this news not spread in the Tower?”

“The clay map is being preserved by Lord Brishisan himself—encased within a Bounded Field that prevents any outside Clairvoyance.”

Brishisan… “I’ve heard that name before.”

Can’t quite recall where though.

“He’s the Great Lord in charge of the Department of Lore; a disciple of King Solomon and attributed to founding the Association.”

Which puts him in the same generation as the Kaleidoscope, then. “Thanks to the Ritual he performs, everyone who knows is automatically compelled to silence, unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless they’re speaking to one of the 25 who will participate in the exploration… Or the Great Lords themselves.”

“Why don’t the Department Heads participate?”

If I were in their place, I would never pass up such an opportunity, not even for my own, let alone other Houses.

I would have kept everything to myself to consolidate my position and power, and probably ended up dying halfway through an excavation because I couldn’t read Native American or something stupid like that.

“Pride, mainly.” The Astromancer chuckles. “Pride in their Lineage, in their Magecraft, and in the decision their ancestors made to diverge from the Old Mysteries. Plus, the translation is sketchy at best. Even within the Department of Lore, there's still debate about whether any of it is true."

It’s true, no doubt about it.

Confirmed by both FGO and Fate/Strange Fake, the Gods of Mesoamerica are all alien-human hybrids.

I thought all the Divine Filaments were gone, except for the one found in Strange Fake, the location of whichh I no longer remember.

But to discover another… Is this change because of me?

Or was it always part of Natural History?

Maybe the expedition group failed to retrieve it. For all we know, it could have bonded with a local lifeform and attacked them.

“Finders-Keepers?”

“Losers-Weepers.”

Releasing my grip on his throat, I lean back in my seat and smile at the flight attendant, who mirrors my expression.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything? Chicken, tea, mashed potatoes?”

“A medium-rare steak sounds perfect.”

“Coming right up. And for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken.”

Once the food and wine are delivered, I tear a piece of bread in half and hand one to Alexios.

“So, what’s the other latest news?”

“There are some who aren’t happy with the outcome of your battle… They’ve put a hit out on you.”

“A hit?”

I can’t help but put on a shit-eating grin, blood thrumming expectantly in my veins. “How much do you think their Crests will be worth?”

“It depends on the kind of people who decide it’s worth the troubles.”

“Really… How much are they offering for my head again?”

“Fifteen million pounds, plus your corpse and the chance to be adopted into a thousand-year-old lineage with all the perks given to a typical Heir or Heiress.”

“That’s it? I’m only worth 15 million?! Are you kidding me? Just 15 million? What kind of amateur bounty is that?”

“… That’s what you’re upset about? Not the fact that there’s a hit on you?”

“YES!” I exclaim in frustration. “What the Hell can you even do with 15 million? It’s fucking chump-change for us! A single Potion already sells for hundreds of thousands of pounds! I’m only worth as much as a crate of Potions—Is that what they are saying? Nah… Nope. These motherfuckers trippin’.”

What was that catchphrase women love? “I know my worth!”

And my life’s value is at least a billion, plus everything else they’re offering and more!

“… You really are a loon.”

“Oh, I’m fucking crazy alright… Crazy angry that they offered such a tiny bounty for me. The fucking pricks—broke-ass motherfucke—!”

“Settle down, lad. You’re scaring the other passengers.”

I groan, settle into my seat, and crosse my arms. “Fuck the other passengers. I need to sleep this off. Wake me when we’re there.”

“There, as in China?”

“Obviously. Where else?”

“Aren’t you worried I might—”

The Magus starts, but is interrupted by yours truly. “You won’t.”

“Bu–!”

“You won’t…” I mutter. He and I both know I’d erase him from existence if he tried anything. "I trust you’re smarter than that.”

The Magus stares at me, speechless, while I level him with the harshest glare I can muster.

“You—”

“Trust me, you will die,” I interject, adjusting my posture and yawning. “And it won’t be pretty.”

Eyelids growing heavy as I prepare for sleep, still somewhat lightheaded from last night’s ordeal, I let my consciousness slowly fade to black.

Just as I’m about to enter blissful REM sleep, I get jolted awake by the rocky flight. “Wha—”

At first, I thought Alexios has a death wish, but when I glance at him, the Magus appears just as confused and shaken as the rest of us.

“That wasn’t you, was it?” 

“No… Why’d I make troubles for myself?”

“—It seems we have a situation in Economy. Please fasten your seatbelts and brace yourselves.” 

Yep… Definitely not our doing. “I bet 50K your brother’s behind this little surprise.” 

“100K says they’re here for you—you do have a hit hanging over your head if you recall. And if I win, you cover your way back.”

Sure, it could be a normal air disturbance, but I don’t believe in coincidence, and the sky doesn’t look stormy at all from where I sit. “Are you going to match that?” 

Even with the roaring of the engines, I can hear the wet crunch of bones and flesh being torn apart—seperated from us by a thin, yet sturdy wall.

Coupled with the low groans that seem to vibrate through the whole plane, the back bunks must have been taken over by Ghouls. “Your brother wants to become a Dead Apostle, right?” 

“… He does. Why?” 

“Deal.”

Shaking on it, we glare at the door as someone—something—pounds against it. “OooOpEen!” 

“Bloofy Hell.”

Alexios groans, likely realizing the same thing I just did.

“Just write down your bank account on the napkin… I’ll have my butler transfer the money to you after we land.” 

“If we land.” I correct and add. “This is gonna be messy.”

There aren’t many options to rectify this mess.

We could sink the plane to hide the mutated, disfigured bodies of the Ghouls, but that means we’d have to kill every passenger to keep them quiet.

Or, we risk this becoming international news and alert the whole world that they’re in danger of a B.O.W.

What a hassle.

If I’d known this would happen,

I’d never have set foot on this damn plane.

But what can you do? Life’s a bitch and a half who just loves throwing curveballs for no reason, like that one coach in middle school who’s way too into dodgeball.

“If the plane lands…”

“We’ll have to blow up Economy and let it crash into the ocean.”

Hopefully, the sea critters will take care of what’s left of the Ghouls.

As far as the world’s concerned, Flight 812 crashes, taking most of Its passengers and crew with it.

“I don’t have any Spells with that kind of firepower. Do you?”

“I’ve got plenty, but I don’t want to end up stranded in the middle of nowhere. Got a plan to get us all the way to China?” It’s been a

“Swim?”

I stare at the dumbass, nose scrunched. “You want to swim there? Are you fucking daft; you half-witted donkey?”

Another pound and a scream tear through the supposedly soundproof First-Class cabin, causing the already panicking passengers to descend into further chaos.

"Sir, please calm dow—"

"Calm?! How am I supposed to be calm when we're 40,000 feet above the ocean with terrorists on board? Don't tell me to fucking calm down!"

"The cabin door is sturdy... It'll hold."

"Yeah, right—" Just before he can finish, the door flies off its hinges, revealing humanoids with deathly gray skin; an unhinged jaws lined with fangs where teeth should be; dressed in the tattered airline uniform; its head as bald as Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson. "If I die looking like that, cremate me...”

I chuckle, but it looks like the crowd isn’t in a laughing mood tonight. Understandable.

“You want to handle this, or should I?"

"I’ll take care of them... They’re just Ghouls."

With a roar, one leaps onto a fellow flight attendant, its jaws gaping wide, ready to take a bite out of the woman who falls flat on her back.

“God! I knew I shouldn’t have watched ‘Dawn of the Dead’ last night!”

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!”

“MOMMY!!!”

With a flick of my finger, I send a wave of vibration that turns the Ghoul’s head into a bloody mess, splattering the dark gray carpet with red.

Ignoring the screams, I instruct, "Hypnotize them... I just thought of something.”

The survivors aren't my concern, but it’ll draw less suspicion if Alexios and I aren’t the only survivors.

"You want to save them? Do we not already have enough trouble on our hands?”

"Just activate [Reinforcement] and dive 40,000 feet into the water. It’s not that hard."

"For you, Lord Hangman, not everyone can spam [Reinforcement] like you do. I can barely double my strength, let alone strengthen myself to survive such a fall. We're 40,000 feet in the air; water will feel like concrete!" Alexios hisses.

Pathetic… “Stop yapping and git good, man. Besides, you still owe me money, and I’m not letting you off the hook until you pay up.”

Cracking my knuckles, I approach the Undead, who all roar in unison.

“Seems like the Dead are a better audience than the Living… Figures.”

“Use your Mystic Code! One bite, and you will be joining them,” Alexios warns, clapping his hands to grab the attention of both passengers and attendants. “Congrats, ladies and gents! You’re about to witness the greatest magic trick of your lives! Let's hear a round of applause for the performer!"

Under my breath, I mutter as a Ghoul bites into my sleeved forearm, its fangs shattering against my [Shield]. “Why do I even need SE for a bunch of scrubs…”

Shutting the door behind me, I wedge it closed, and immediately start screaming bloody murder.

“Are you okay out there?!”

The Astromancer calls, but I only raise my voice in response, my arms ‘dismantling’ the Ghouls at a speed Kirei would be proud of. The blood seeping through the cracks heightens his concern, but with my Od flowing through the steel, his fists against the cabin door might as well be pillows.

Once I’ve dealt with the Ghouls, I kick the door open and shove a decapitated head through the crack.

“What?” I groan, vibrating my vocal cords to mimic the Ghouls’ growl.

“Argh! He’s dead!”

“Do something!” The passengers yell, urging Alexios, who curses.

“Fuck… Even he can’t—”

That’s when I stick my head through the crack, cackling maniacally. “Got you!”

A long silence greets me, quickly giving way to enraged screams.

“Are you fucking mental?!”

“You fucking prick!”

“What the Hell was that for?!”

“C’mon!” Giggling at the prank that I’m pretty sure only I find funny, I add sarcastically. “Live, laugh, love!”

“Fuck off!”

Roaring with laughter, I jog to the end of the plane, systematically taking out every single Ghoul I find. Not one passenger seems to have survived the ordeal, or so I thought, until I hear the quiet rasps coming from the toilet.

“Anybody in there? Come out with your hands in the air.”

“… A- Are the monsters all gone?”

A weak, hesitant wheeze of a little girl echoes through the empty plane, followed by her mother’s hushed whisper. “Shhh! They can mimic human voices. It’s alright, Ikari-chan, sleep it off and the monsters will disappear."

“I’m not a monster, I promise. I’m the one sent to deal with them. Please open the door.”

The voices sound familiar…

Too familiar, in fact…

But it can’t be, right?

“Mommy, the nice man says—”

“I know! I know what he said, but you can’t always trust people! People lie.” She hisses in Japanese.

It’s them, isn’t it?

I gently break down the door and poke my head inside, spotting the mother and daughter duo I have encountered on my flights twice before. The girl speaks more clearly now, but her skin is deathly pale, and a large chunk of flesh is missing from her forearm. She's not in great condition, and if the wound’s what I think it is…

“Shit.”

I curse in English as the mother jumps, clutching a roll of toilet paper like a lifeline. “W- Who you?”

She asks in broken English, sniffing up a dangle of snot; mascara smudged from the tears.

“Mo- Mommy… It’s Det- Detective Kid!”

Her daughter cheers, wheezing again as she crawls to her feet.

“H- He got taller…!”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh… Oh, thank Gods! Are the monsters—”

“They’re dealt with.” All of them, except one.

I look over the mother and see no injuries, apart from the blood on her light pink shirt and the dried stains on her dress.

“Are you unharmed?”

“Y-Yes, but my daughter—she not well!”

“I can see that.”

“Help her, please!”

I’d like to, but… “The Infection cannot be staved off or cured.”

It affects the very essence of a person, altering their Spirit Core until no trace of Humanity remains. "I'm sorry, but she—"

"No..." Maybe it’s my tone of voice; or the look in my eyes; or my posture, but she instantly realizes what I'm implying and steps in front of her daughter, arms outstretched to protect her child.

"Ma'am, please step aside."

"NO! MY DAUGHTER IS DIFFERENT! SHE WON'T TURN INTO ONE OF THOSE—THOSE THINGS!" She shouts in her native language, teeth clenched so tight I fear they’d break. Everyone believes they or their loved ones will be different...

They never are.

"My daughter is different! She won’t become like them, please! You’ll see! She’s different!”

She pleads again, while her daughter just smiles deliriously, chest going up and down in a rapid, erratic pace.

"What a terrible day.”

— [Infinity] —

A heart-wrenching scream snaps all the surviving passengers to attention. Ten minutes later, they spot their savior marching through the door with an unconscious Asian woman in his arms.

“Is—Is she dead?” Someone asks.

“I’ve seen this in movies before! She’s gonna turn into one of them and kill us all!” The cinephile is about to continue, but a harsh glare shuts him down, a look that would deter even hardened criminals, let alone someone whose experience is only secondhand. “She’s clean, I checked. The blood is from her daughter… The girl didn’t make it.”

“You mean, you killed her. You killed a child.” Another accuses.

“What’d you have do? Let her zombified self wander the ocean floor and risk an outbreak? You saw how strong and fast they were, the military would get overwhelmed in days, if not less.”

His logical answer quickly silences any further dissent, but Alexios can tell trust in him has wavered.

Throwing long straps to the First-Class passengers, Jasper Hangman orders, “Put these on. Flight attendant, get the pilot and co-pilot.”

“On it, sir.”

Only then does his fellow Magus turn to address the Astromancer, his expression unreadable yet intense. “Do you mind getting a tag-along on your mission?”

The Astromancer pauses, surprised by the sudden offer. “No… I don’t mind. But, why?”

His eyes, hollow with unspoken emotions, remain fixed on the woman’s face. Voice barely a breeze, Lord Hangman answers—the veins on his neck bulging, "Is it not a King's duty to protect his subjects? I failed… So I shall settle for the next best thing: Vengeance.”