Jayr POV - Nasuverse, Moon, SE.RA.PH, Tsukumihara Academy - 2030 AD
As I turn away from the spot where Rani usually can be found, the empty space at the end of the hallway near the window, my mind continues to analyse the situation, 'Rani VIII should be standing there. Yet she isn't.'
However, I don't let the thought spiral; instead, I do what I always do when something doesn't line up with expectations. I verify.
Then I talk to my partner through our bond, [Nero.]
She half-materialises beside me, translucent and attentive as she says, [You noticed too.]
I nod and reply, [Yes. We're going to the bulletin board.]
If Rani has been eliminated, erased, or trapped somewhere, the Moon Cell will have recorded it. It always does. That kind of data doesn't simply slip by.
After Nero's faint figure fades away, we head back down to the second floor at a steady pace while I keep my presence muted, not hidden, just unremarkable. The corridors feel quieter than earlier, but I file that away without comment.
The silence isn't complete. That's what bothers me.
It's not the absence of sound, but the way the remaining noise behaves. Footsteps echo a fraction too long. The ambient hum of the campus systems lingers, but without variation, like a recording stuck in a loop. Even the distant voices I pass don't overlap the way they should. Conversations end cleanly, unnaturally so, with no trailing remarks or interruptions.
SE.RA.PH usually prides itself on density. Layers of presence. Too much data is packed into every space. The Moon Cell doesn't waste processing power on emptiness unless emptiness serves a purpose.
I pass an NPC instructor near one of the stairwells. She nods politely, expression frozen in a neutral smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. When I glance back a moment later, she's already gone, dismissed without transition.
That's new.
Normally, NPCs exit through doors or fade when unobserved. This one simply wasn't there anymore, as if her continued presence had failed a relevance check.
I don't slow my pace, but I catalogue it anyway.
Nero's presence brushes against my consciousness, light but alert. She doesn't comment, which tells me she's noticed the same inconsistencies and reached the same conclusion. The system is still functioning, but it's doing so selectively, which is quite unusual.
That's more dangerous than an outright malfunction.
A broken system draws attention. A selective one hides intent behind efficiency.
We continue down the corridor, passing classroom doors that should be open at this hour but aren't. Their surfaces reflect the hallway lights without revealing anything beyond them. No silhouettes. No movement.
For the first time since entering SE.RA.PH, the school feels less like a battlefield and more like a stage being cleared between acts.
The bulletin board activates as we approach, lines of light rearranging themselves into familiar listings.
I don't scan everything and go straight to Rani's name and see it, still marked there.
Masters: Rani VIII vs Matias Canton
Watching the bulletin board, I almost let out a relieved sigh while thinking, 'She is still listed as an active Master. Her opponent's name is there too. Another minor Master. One I have never heard of before. Which means he shouldn't be a threat. Her Elimination Battle is still scheduled.'
Coming to that realisation, I exhale slowly while Nero says through our bond, [So she's alive.]
I tear my gaze away from the bulletin board and reply, [And still part of the war. Which means she hasn't been deleted or disqualified.]
That rules out the worst-case scenarios where she may have been ambushed by a Champion. For now, at least. After all, they are the only ones who can easily deal with someone at the level of Rani.
If the system still considers her active, then her absence is probably something more mundane. Like preparations, or research, or even being busy with some direct instruction from her Professor.
Sure, Rani has never been the type to purposefully break an agreement, but if something urgent comes up, she is pragmatic enough to do it.
I nod once again as my mind quickly comes up with a dozen situations that would force Rani to fail to meet me.
Then I make a new decision and mutter, "For now, let's focus on our own objectives. After all, worrying over Rani won't help us win the Holy Grail War."
Almost on cue, my portable terminal beeps loudly, which makes me pull it out of my pocket and look at the new message on the display.
[The primary cypher key has been generated.]
Reading the message, I realise, 'Right. The Arena. This may be a good time to explore it. Not only can we retrieve the Primary Trigger. But we may also learn more about our current opponent and his Servant. He may be a minor Master, but that doesn't mean that I can completely ignore him. That would be catastrophically careless...'
Coming to that conclusion, we divert course and head for the first floor of the campus, toward the entrance to the Arena.
The Arena door slides open to reveal the familiar digital abyss beyond it, and as we step through it, we are prompted to choose our destination.
Once I select the first floor of the Fourth Chimeric Lunar Sea, we are immediately transferred to our destination.
The transfer isn't instant so much as abrupt. Space folds inward, vision blurs, and for half a heartbeat, I feel weightless, like stepping off a stair that wasn't there.
Then the world snaps back into place.
The sensation always leaves a faint pressure behind my eyes, a reminder that this environment is layered over reality, not bound by it.
Nero materialises fully at my side, boots touching down without a sound, already scanning our surroundings with interest.
Her smile returns, sharp and eager, before she says, her voice carrying lightly in the enclosed space, "Ah. I almost missed such a proper stage."
The next moment, I fully focus on our surroundings as we find ourselves surrounded by translucent walls that glow in faint teal colours, forming a labyrinth suspended in a vast underwater-scape.
The illusion of depth is convincing enough that my stomach tightens for a moment, even if I have already experienced such a sight many times.
The floor beneath us is solid, but the endless blue below gives the impression that one misstep would send us falling into open water.
Light filters down from nowhere and everywhere at once, refracting through the translucent walls.
The effect is paradoxically serene at a glance, but the longer I look, the more artificial it feels, too clean, too controlled.
Schools of data-rendered fish drift lazily beyond the walls, disappearing into the distance like mirages.
Even the fish move in looping patterns if you watch them long enough.
The Arena doesn't create beauty for its own sake; it does it to distract the less focused minds.
That distraction works best on those who mistake the Arena for a neutral space, but I don't.
The moment we advance, subtle shifts ripple through the labyrinth. Enemy Programs spawn at measured intervals, their parameters adjusted not to overwhelm but to test reaction speed and resource management. The Moon Cell doesn't want us dead here. It simply wants to gather more data. The only real threat in the Arena is the opposing Masters and their Servants.
Behemoth answers my summons with a low, resonant rumble of its engine that vibrates through the floor before its sleek form fully emerges from the portal. Its presence distorts the ambient light, shadows bending around the wild motorcycle like they're unsure how to behave.
Nero steps forward without waiting for instruction, blade already in hand, posture relaxed but precise. She looks almost pleased as she gets on the vehicle whose engine almost purrs, making her say, "Ah, it truly has been too long since we stretched our legs."
I get on behind her, and then we start to advance with Nero slicing cleanly through the first approaching Enemy Program before it finishes compiling.
The enemies shatter into fragments of light on contact, but not before I catch the structure of their cores and quickly analyse it. Defensive emphasis. Low adaptability. This floor is meant for early engagements, but SE.RA.PH has fine-tuned the aggression thresholds to a notable level, likely to match our opponent's Servant.
We move in sync, not because we need to coordinate, but because our experience in this Holy Grail War has erased the need for explicit commands.
Behemoth barrels through narrower passages without slowing, forcing the labyrinth to adapt around it with sheer power. Walls widen slightly just enough to allow their passage, then snap back into place, as if irritated by the inconvenience. Each impact leaves behind flickering distortions that take longer than usual to resolve.
Watching this scene, I can't help but narrow my eyes while thinking, 'This is interesting. That has never happened before... Why does the structure of the Arena feel so shaky? Usually, it is firm enough to easily contain a battle between Servants...'
As we advance, Nero hums softly, a tune I recognise; she is humming Hakuna Matata from The Lion King. Her strikes are efficient, but she never fully suppresses her flair. Even here, even now, she refuses to fight like a machine.
I collect fragments of dropped data as we go, piecing together a rough behavioural profile of our opponent's Servant. Spell layering. Area control. Support-oriented constructs. Everything points back to Caster Class Servant, and a conservative one at that.
It also seems Raphael Gold himself isn't reckless. That makes him more dangerous than his ranking suggests.
After all, most of the Servants seem to match their Masters quite well.
By the time we reach the Trigger's location, neither of us is winded. The Arena has yielded what it can, and I can feel SE.RA.PH's interest in us is waning, attention drifting elsewhere.
That, more than the absence of resistance, tells me it's time to leave.
On our way back, we are also lucky enough to encounter our opponents, Raphael Gold and his Servant.
Raphael Gold is a young man with curly blond hair that slightly covers a round, tense face and blue eyes, in addition to his fair skin tone, which makes him fairly handsome.
However, his Servant is much more handsome than him as he possesses a slender figure combined with his long, greyish-blue hair that he lets fall loosely over his right shoulder and clear hazel eyes. All of which could easily make someone mistake him for a woman.
His outfit resembles that of a traditional white-tailed lab coat with unique modifications. The coat possesses a raised collar that descends down the coat as a large V-cut and black epaulettes on its shoulders, a trait shared by the sleeves of the coat.
Under the coat, he wears what appears to be a dark blue turtleneck sweater with a burgundy choker and harness. For shoes, he wears knee-high metal boots reminiscent of those found on the armour of knights.
I immediately recognise him, he is Paracelsus von Hohenheim, a Caster Class Servant.
(Image Here - Paracelsus von Hohenheim)
A legendary physician turned alchemist. In the 16th Century, he was known as a historic figure from the Renaissance Period.
Over the course of his lifetime, Paracelsus devoted himself to the study of medicine and alchemy, leaving behind many achievements and books such as the "rediscovery of the four (five) elements" and the "rediscovery of the three humours", which helped the advancement of Magecraft.
A rare individual who went down in both human and magic history. He is also known for creating the original Azoth Sword.
As soon as they notice our presence, they instantly grow tense, but we simply nod at them and speed away without saying anything else.
The brief encounter lingers longer than it should.
Even as distance opens between us, I feel Paracelsus's gaze tracking our departure, sharp and inquisitive. Unlike his Master, he doesn't relax once we disengage. There's calculation there, curiosity layered over caution.
Raphael, on the other hand, exhales audibly the moment we're gone. His shoulders sag, tension bleeding out of him in a way that tells me he was bracing for a fight he knew he wasn't that sure he could win.
That discrepancy alone speaks volumes.
Paracelsus isn't bound by his Master's limitations. He's observing the war, not just surviving it.
Nero glances back over her shoulder, a faint smirk touching her lips. Through our bond, I feel her amusement as she remarks, [That one would have talked. Given the chance.]
I smile wryly and reply, [I know. And he would have learned too much in the process.]
Nero chuckles and smugly comments, [Umu... I know the type well. They can be as charming as they are dangerous.]
I shrugged my shoulder while thinking, 'Casual encounters in the Arena are never truly casual. Every exchange is weighed, remembered, and repurposed later. Letting Paracelsus study us in detail now would only complicate things down the line. In this particular instance, it is better to remain an unanswered question.'
As we reach the exit point, the pressure of his attention finally lifts. Whatever conclusions he draws will have to be based on incomplete and presumably wrong data.
I can live with that.
By the time we return to the surface and make our way back to the Private Room, Rani has slipped from the forefront of my thoughts.
The next morning begins like any other.
Routine. Familiar motions. Controlled normalcy.
Over breakfast, I mention Rani's absence in passing, framing it as curiosity rather than concern.
Aletha looks up immediately and asks, "You want help looking for her?"
I admit, "Yes. I don't think anything's wrong. But I'd rather be sure."
Marie nods, already on board.
We split up once we leave the Private Room.
Nero slips back into her Spirit Form. She stays close, alert.
I head straight for the third floor again, but again, Rani's usual place is still empty.
At this point, I widen the search radius. Corridors. Adjacent floors. Overlooks and stairwells. But still nothing.
No residual Magecraft. No distortions. No sign that she's passed through recently.
Time passes without result.
Eventually, Aletha and Marie regroup with us. They haven't found anything either.
Aletha informs me, "No one's seen her. At least, no one is willing to talk."
I scratch my head and reply, "That's strange... But she's still scheduled for the Elimination Battle. The system hasn't changed her status."
That's the only thing keeping my concern in check.
At this point, Marie glances around and asks, "Is it just me, or does the campus feel… emptier?"
Aletha folds her arms, eyes narrowing as she takes a longer look down the hall and agrees, "It's not just you. When we passed through the east wing, I also felt that the area was more desolate than usual. It doesn't match what we're used to seeing. That got me curious enough to check the activity logs at the Commissary, and they feel off."
That gets my attention as I ask, "How far off?"
She replies, "Enough that it can't be random. NPC density is down across multiple sectors, but the system isn't flagging it as an error. It's behaving like this is the intended state."
Marie shifts her weight uneasily, "That's… worse, isn't it?"
Aletha and I answer at the same time, ""Yes.""
I run a quick check on my portable terminal, using the backdoor created by my Ultimate Skill to access more specific data directly from the Moon Cell and start cross-referencing current population metrics with historical baselines and quickly realise, 'Aletha's right. The drop-off is too clean. Too uniform. Entire clusters of non-essential entities have been quietly removed.'
While I'm doing that, Marie says softly, "That explains why no one's talking. There's barely anyone left to ask anything."
I keep my gaze on the portable terminal while thinking, 'I don't like how quickly that happened. From what I'm seeing SE.RA.PH usually tapers population gradually, giving Masters time to adjust while still giving that sense of dread and pressure. This feels abrupt, like someone skipped ahead in the script.'
Nero's presence tightens against my awareness, her usual confidence edged with something sharper as she observes, [The audience is being dismissed before the final act. That usually isn't a good sign for the play...]
I don't respond immediately. Because she's right, and because acknowledging it makes the implication harder to ignore.
This war is accelerating exponentially, and whatever comes next doesn't require witnesses.
Then I try to reassure them and maybe even myself, "I noticed. But it's probably intentional. SE.RA.PH. tends to adjust the atmosphere as the war progresses. And most Masters dive into the Arena around this time."
It's a reasonable explanation. Thin, but reasonable. But still, I can't help but have the faint feeling that something is seriously wrong.
In the end, we return to the Private Room without answers.
The following day starts the same way and is about to end the same way.
Rani is still nowhere to be found, and in the end, we all stop in front of one of the windows in the hallway as the orange hue of the early evening sky paints the surroundings.
This time, the emptiness is impossible to ignore.
Entire corridors are now deserted; NPC patrols that should be present simply aren't. Conversations that usually hum in the background have faded into silence. The entire campus seems almost completely empty, barring a few remaining individuals here and there.
This isn't optimisation or some kind of mood adjustment. It's subtraction.
I stop pretending otherwise while thinking, 'I need someone who understands the Moon Cell beyond surface behaviour. Someone who exists just outside its usual rhythms. The chapel. Aoko and Touko. They should have an idea of what is going on...'
Reaching that conclusion, I leave Aletha and Marie to search for some clues without hesitation and head there alone, Nero close but silent.
The chapel doors open easily, and inside, the space is pristine, too pristine.
The air inside the chapel feels thinner, like it's been filtered too many times.
Every surface gleams, polished to an unnatural degree. The candles are unlit, their wicks untouched, as if no one ever thought to use them. Even the faint magical residue that usually clings to this place is gone, scrubbed clean with meticulous care.
I step forward slowly, half-expecting resistance, a ward, anything that would confirm someone had been here recently, but I find nothing.
Aoko always leaves traces behind. Touko even more so. Magecraft, no matter how subtle, always leaves fingerprints.
This place has none.
It has not been abandoned; it has been revisioned.
The Moon Cell hasn't merely removed them. It's edited the environment to reflect a version of reality where they were never present to begin with.
That realisation sits heavily in my chest.
I reach out with my senses, pushing further than I should, brushing against the deeper layers of the system. For a moment, there's pushback, like static across my thoughts, and then simply emptiness.
Whatever mechanism is responsible for this isn't operating on the same level as the campus infrastructure. And what is worse, it isn't connected to the core despite being part of it.
Nero manifests partially at my side, her expression uncharacteristically serious. She doesn't speak, but she doesn't need to.
We've both reached the same conclusion.
This isn't part of the war as it was programmed by the Moon Cell. Something or someone is rewriting the rules in this very moment.
That's when the last rational explanation collapses, 'This isn't a coincidence. This isn't some new mood setting to observe. This isn't the Moon Cell tightening parameters. Something is removing pieces from the board. Carefully. Quietly.'
I turn and head for the exit.
The moment my hand touches the door, reality stutters.
For a split second, my fingers don't feel like they belong to me.
The sensation is wrong in a way that bypasses pain entirely. There's no impact, no resistance, just a sudden dislocation, like my sense of touch has been reassigned somewhere else without warning.
Nero reacts instantly.
Her presence flares through our bond, no longer light or distant, but sharp and forceful, anchoring itself against my awareness, [Praetor.]
The air fractures. Colours desync. Space folds inward on itself for a fraction of a second that feels far too long.
The sky suddenly flickers into the classic black and white fuzz of a static screen.
At the same time, a strange, distorted female voice is heard announcing.
[Time limit has been reached. Attention all intelligent beings still within the school grounds. We must regretfully inform you: There has been a breakdown in how the Holy Grail War should proceed. This is a collapse in value due to inflation. The Holy Grail War has been sold off, and all of you along with it. YoU aLL HAve NO vaulE.]
As the words spill out, Nero fully materialises beside me, her form solid despite the instability, one hand already gripping my arm.
Her expression has shifted. The confidence is still there, but it's sharpened into something colder, more protective, before she says through the bond, [This is no administrator. This voice does not belong to the Moon Cell's usual authority.]
The world starts to vanish in pieces.
First, the sky. Then the distant city. Then the chapel floor beneath our feet darkens, its texture unravelling into featureless black. It's like watching the environment fail a rendering check, stripped down to nothing but absence. It's like an ocean of night. In an instant, the surface of the world is coated in darkness.
Marie and Aletha's presence is also gone.
I reach out instinctively, scanning for them, but there's nothing to grasp, no trace, no feedback.
The ground gives out completely, making us suddenly sink into the ground that turned into an ocean of night and start falling, and falling, and falling.
There's no end to this falling. I feel that this darkness is trying to peel away everything, but my sense of direction has drifted away. Everything but my sense of self. But this isn't enough. I easily endure and keep falling for what seems like aeons.
I keep my focus on my bond with Nero, and soon this darkness starts to be filled with lights that, like meteors, leave faint trails behind them, illuminating this endless abyss.
At this point, I reach out and call out her name, "Nero!"
In response, I hear her voice right beside me, "Umu! I'm always here, my Preator!"
Suddenly, I hear a sound of glass breaking, and at the same time, the darkness around me seems to break.
My hand touches her outstretched arm. The sensation of endlessly falling is gone. All that remains in front of me is my dear old Nero and a dazzling sea of stars.
Nero smiles brightly and says, "Umu! Hear and love me. Give me praise, and rejoice. I am the greatest of the great masterpieces... Heroic Spirit of the Sword, and your Servant!"
The sheer confidence in her smile shines brighter than all the stars in the sky.
Then she sighs loudly and complains, "Haaa... Whatever this crazy ordeal is, it has taken its toll on me. I was almost tempted to use one of our trump cards."
I also sigh and comment, "Yeah... I don't have a clear idea of what is happening, but for some reason we fell into an imaginary space... Which, by Nasuverse's standards, means that the situation has taken a turn for the worse."
At this point, I focus back on emerging from this place, making everything fade in a white light.
As the stars begin to blur into white, signalling our exit, Nero exhales dramatically before she complains, "Haaa… Truly, this war grows increasingly rude the more we advance. Next time, I may not be so generous and will forcefully break everything."
I glance at her, then at the fading void beyond and comment, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
The light overtakes us.
And when the world reforms, it does so under unfamiliar skies.
Except that we are not in the chapel anymore, but we are now standing in front of the school building, only this time it looks much more vintage, like a Japanese school built in the Meiji era.
On top of that, I can feel that the ground beneath my feet isn't part of SE.RA.PH.
Then my attention is caught by a big cherry blossom tree close to the entrance of the school, and seeing that, I instantly connect the dots and know where we are, making me mutter, "Shit... This is the Far Side of the Moon Cell."
And whatever is happening has just decided that it's time to shake things up.