Alex shoved the bed against the wall, clearing a broad, empty space on the floor.
He lifted the heavy suitcase onto the table, clicked the latches, and let the lid fall back.
Neat bundles of cash, a crisp ID bearing his face and the name Alex Black Veydris, and finally, a stick of crimson chalk.
His fingers closed around it, the texture familiar in a way he couldn’t place.
He didn’t question the knowledge.
Kneeling on the hardwood, he began to draw.
The chalk moved with a sure, fluid grace, tracing arcane lines and complex geometries that flowed from his hand as if remembered.
Soon, a perfect, pulsing circle glowed faintly on the floor.
He stood back, examining his work with a critical eye.
It was correct.
He knew it was.
“A catalyst isn’t needed,” he murmured to the silent room.
“But it would help.
I have none.
And since this world is different from the world servants are from… how would I even locate one?”
“You don’t.”
The voice was smooth, uninflected.
Above the circle, the air shimmered like a heat haze, and Nioh the cat solidified, padding slowly across the intricate design.
“Hmm.
You’re very good at this.
It seems you are ready.” The cat turned, luminous eyes fixing on Alex.
“To answer your question you need no catalyst.
The Servant you summon will be a reflection of your deepest desire.
Desire strength, and strength answers.
Desire a killer, and a killer comes.
But be warned.
While Servants are bound to serve, they are not puppets.
They have their own wills, their own hungers.
Displease them, and they may decide a dead master is easier to bear than a foul one.
So take care.
Ensure your desire… is something you can truly withstand.”
Nioh leaped soundlessly onto the table, curling up to watch.
“You’re not leaving?” Alex asked.
“I wish to see it.
Proceed.
Summon your Servant.”
Alex closed his eyes.
His mind, usually a vault of strategies and cold calculations, now cast a single, sharp line into the dark.
Not just power.
Not just skill.
Loyalty.
Absolute, unquestioning, and unbreakable.
A Servant whose purpose was to be an extension of his will, living for his command, dying for his cause.
A weapon that would never turn in his hand.
He opened his eyes, his voice dropping into a resonant chant that seemed to pull power from the very air.
“By the will that threads through time and blood.
by the oath unbroken and the name yet unspoken.
I call upon thee, spirit of legend.
Come forth from the shadows of history, bound to my command by fate and fire.
Swear thy allegiance to my soul, and let our paths intertwine as Master and Servant.
until the end of this world’s reckoning!”
The circle erupted.
Crimson light, blinding and violent, shot upward in a torrent of raw magical energy.
It whipped Alex’s hair back and sent loose items in the room skittering away from the epicenter.
The pressure built, humming in his teeth, then collapsed inwards with a silent, concussive.
In the center of the circle, where the light had been, a figure now knelt.
“Rider-class Servant.
I am in your service.” The voice was calm, melodic, yet devoid of warmth.
“Feel free to use me as you see fit.”
She was beautiful, in a way that felt distant and severe.
Long, deep-purple hair flowed around her, strands shifting and floating of their own accord, as if underwater.
A simple, dark eyecover obscured her eyes.
Even on her knees, her presence was tall, poised.
“My name is Alex Black Veydris.
I am your Master,” he said, his tone measured.
“as you may have realized…you are not in a conventional Holy Grail War.
You may reveal your True Name to me.”
She inclined her head.
“Master…
I am the Gorgon, Medusa.”
Alex observed her, the lines of her submission, the utter stillness of her form.
“Stand, Medusa.” She rose smoothly to her feet, and she noted, with a flicker of satisfaction, that he towered over her.
and that somehow…Pleased her
“Answer me clearly.
I am now your Master.
What does that mean to you?”
“Your will is my absolute desire,” she stated, her voice even.
“My purpose is your convenience.
Use me however you see fit.”
However.
Alex’s gaze narrowed.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
He did not speak, only lifted his hand and placed it firmly over the soft swell of her right breast, covered by her simple attire.
He watched her face.
No flinch, no blink, no change in her breath.
He tightened his grip, feeling the firmness beneath his palm, then pinched the nipple through the fabric, a sharp, deliberate twist.
Medusa remained motionless.
A statue granting him permission.
A slow breath escaped Alex.
“Good,” he said, his voice low.
“It seems you mean it.
I will explain our situation and goals.
Then we will discuss your capabilities and our next moves.” He finally turned his head towards the table.
“Well?
Any irregularities?”
Nioh’s tiny cat head shook once.
“None.
You’ve done well.
You now have one week until your next summon.
Determine your path.
Act on your desires.
Simply remember your current objective is to grow strong enough to defeat the one known as Superman.
After that, I will disclose more about the god you hunt.” With that, the cat dissolved into motes of fading light.
Alex was alone with his Servant.
The room was in disarray, the air still crackling with spent magic.
He turned back to Medusa, her purple hair settling gently around her shoulders.
“Help me put the room back in order,” he commanded.
“Then we talk.”
…
Alex leaned against the window frame, the ember of his cigarette a dull orange eye in the twilight.
He exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it curl and vanish against the glass.
“So,” he began, his voice a low rumble.
“That blindfold.
There’s truly nothing to be done?
I’d prefer my Servant not to be visually obstructed.”
Medusa stood motionless a few paces away, her silhouette a study in stillness.
“No.
I cannot.
As I explained, the risk is too great.
My Mystic Eyes of Petrification remain active.
To remove the cover in your presence would be to endanger you.” Her tone was factual, devoid of apology.
“Do not concern yourself, Master.
I have lived half my life beneath this bind.
My vision is… unconventional, but it suffices.”
Alex took a final drag, the burn sharp in his throat, before flicking the cigarette out into the gathering dark.
“Good to know,” he said, turning from the window.
“Now.
Our objective is clear.
Your capabilities are understood.
A few final points remain.”
He began to pace, a slow, measured circuit around the sparse room.
“First.
We need intelligence.
Information about this city, its so-called heroes and villains.
We must chart the most efficient path to grow stronger.
More pragmatically, we require wealth.
If I am to command multiple Servants, I need resources.
A rapid financial ascent.
But that…” He stopped, turning his full attention to her.
“…comes later.
Right now, I need a perfect answer.”
He fixed her with a penetrating stare.
“According to Nioh, my magical reserves are pitifully weak.
Insufficient to sustain even a single Servant properly.
Do you confirm this?
Can you feel the lack?”
Medusa tilted her head slightly, as if listening to a distant hum.
“To be honest, Master… yes.
The connection is thin.
Even now, I feel… diminished.
I can engage in combat, but not at my full strength.
A prolonged battle would strain the bond severely.”
“I see.” Alex’s jaw tightened.
“And my intention to summon more only exacerbates the deficit.
Very well.
We will address that.” He folded his arms, his next question delivered with clinical detachment.
“The cat suggested alternate means of mana transfer.
Bodily fluids.
Blood.
Or semen.
What is your assessment?”
Medusa did not hesitate.
“The principle is sound.
However, I would advise against relying on your blood.
The quantity required for meaningful sustenance would be immense…likely fatal to a normal human within a day.
The more optimal solution is either seminal transfer, or the activation of my Noble Phantasm, Blood Fort Andromeda, to harvest life force from this city.”
“The Noble Phantasm is not ideal.
We operate in the unknown.
Drawing that level of attention could be catastrophic before we are prepared.” Alex stepped closer, his voice dropping, forcing intimacy into the sterile analysis.
“I require a straight answer.
My blood is, apparently, infinite.
A consequence of my condition.
So the choice is yours.
Would you prefer to feed from my veins, or would you prefer we engage in sexual congress to bolster your energy?
I leave the selection to you.
You are loyal, and I find the notion of forcing you… distasteful.”
Medusa was silent for a long moment, her head bowed in thought.
The floating strands of her purple hair settled, as if weighted by her consideration.
“If your blood is truly limitless, then it is a viable option,” she conceded, her voice soft.
“But it would necessitate constant, invasive feeding.
A perpetual reminder of lack.” She raised her head, the dark eyecover seeming to seek his face.
“I would rather we proceed with intercourse.
As your Servant, it is a duty I anticipated.
I also…” A faint, almost imperceptible shift in her stance.
“…find you acceptable.
The choice remains yours, Master.
If I am unappealing, I will subsist on blood.”
She lowered her head again, a subtle tension in her shoulders, the fear of a monster hearing confirmation of its repulsiveness.
Alex closed the remaining distance between them.
His hand came up, not to grope or claim, but to rest lightly beneath her chin, tilting her face up.
“Quite the opposite,” he said, his voice firm.
“You are a beauty, Medusa.
Take pride in that.
I desire loyalty from my Servants, not servility.
Hold yourself with the worth you possess.”
The words, simple and declarative, struck a silent chord within her.
She did not smile, such expressions were foreign to her, but a certain rigidity left her frame.
“Of course.
Thank you, Master.”
“Then it’s settled.” Alex stepped back, his movements deliberate.
He began to unbutton his suit jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders.
“Night is here.
We will try this once.
If it proves mutually agreeable, we will establish it as a regular protocol.”
Medusa nodded, a single, graceful dip of her head.
“As you command, Master.”
The room was very quiet, the only sound the rustle of fabric and the distant, muted heartbeat of the city below.
/*
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Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!