Chaldeas glowed blue again today. A massive sphere floated in the air, casting a soft blue light. Like a small model of Earth. Ritsuka had heard on their first day of assignment that if it ever turned red, humanity would be finished. Today, the blue was unusually calm. Fujimaru Ritsuka stood at the edge of the central control room, gazing absently at that light. Black short hair stuck up slightly from bedhead. White shirt, black slacks, and a thin cardigan. A small mole on the left cheek. Height: 170 centimeters, though they somehow looked smaller—probably the posture. It was just past eight in the morning. Ritsuka held a terminal, inputting the schedule they'd been thinking about last night. There were no missions planned for today. Rare. They'd been thinking since last evening about giving the Servants some free time. They opened the terminal's operation screen. Intending to enter a memo, they tapped a button. ——A small *click* sound. Immediately after. Ritsuka's own voice poured out from the speakers embedded in the ceiling. "[surprised]…Huh?" In a loud voice. Throughout the facility. It was a facility-wide broadcast. "[surprised]Oh, wait—" They tried to stop it in a panic, but it was too late. The recorded audio was already playing. From the speakers came Ritsuka's slightly bouncy voice. *"Today everyone's off! No missions! You can have free time!"*—audio they'd left as a memo last night. They must have pressed the facility-wide broadcast button instead of the input field. A few seconds of silence. Then—voices came from all over the facility. Cheers, or rather. Shouts of joy. From down the hallway, from the residential area, from the cafeteria. Scattered but simultaneous, the sound of something moving all at once. Ritsuka looked down at the terminal. The facility-wide broadcast screen was still open. "[sad]…I've done it now." Only those words fell softly into the empty control room. ────── The cafeteria was already a battlefield. The moment Ritsuka opened the door, white smoke billowed out. It smelled like spices. And something burnt. And something else unidentifiable. Looking toward the kitchen, multiple Servants were colliding at full force in the cramped space, wielding pots, skewers, stone plates. Someone kneading flour in front of a stove. Someone hacking away at a huge piece of meat. Someone trying to open four bottles of spices at once. "[excited]This is what leisure time is!" "[angry]Get out of the way, I'm using this!" "[serious]That heat level is wrong." Shouts, the sound of pots, and something that sounded like an explosion all mixed together. In the midst of that chaos, one person was quiet. Tying a white apron firmly at the chest, moving with calm precision to check the stove. Silver short hair. Sharp eyes, but somehow tired. Looked to be in his thirties, though no one knew his actual age. Chaldea's Servant—Emiya. "[cold]…Show a little more order." Speaking quietly, Emiya smoothly dodged an arm reaching toward him from the side. Unruffled. Unmoved. Simply going about his work methodically. Ritsuka, watching, felt somewhat reassured. With Emiya here, it'll be fine—they thought, and in the next moment. A large pot tilted. "[surprised]Oh no." They tried to jump in, but didn't make it. White powder scattered through the air. Flour. Ritsuka was white from face to chest. Silence for a moment. Everyone in the kitchen stopped and looked at Ritsuka. "[laughing]Master, you're white." "[serious]…Look in a mirror." Only Emiya didn't laugh, but the corners of his eyes softened slightly. Ritsuka brushed the powder from their face with a hand and took a deep breath. "[sarcastic]…Glad you're all having fun." ────── They escaped the cafeteria and stepped into the hallway. The main corridor—the primary passage running east-west through the facility, two hundred meters long. Characterized by white walls and blue floor lights, normally bustling with staff. Today, it was impassable. Because the middle of the hallway was lined with golden objects. Urns, swords, a jeweled crown, some kind of moving figurine, a glass case filled with just gems, another urn. All gleaming brilliantly, arranged without gaps from one end to the other. A few staff members stood stranded. A man stood at the far end of the hallway. Wearing golden armor. Hand on hip, looking satisfied. Too far away for Ritsuka to see clearly, but his attitude was unmistakably enormous. Very enormous. "[serious]We can't get through!" "[cold]I'm admiring them. Be silent." The staff member held their head in their hands. Ritsuka approached, still covered in flour, and bowed. "[serious]Um, if you could put these away…" "[cold]Do you dare obstruct my collection?" Not listening at all. Ritsuka exchanged a look with the staff member. In situations like this, arguing by force only wore you down. They'd learned that from experience. "[gentle]…I understand. We'll take a detour." They signaled the staff with their eyes and started walking in the opposite direction. The floor of the detour route was scattered with divination tools. "[surprised]Why?" ────── The library door was half-open. Inside, several Servants were gathered in front of bookshelves that reached the ceiling. Books were stacked on the floor. Along with what looked like a star chart, something that looked like bones (divination tools, apparently), and what looked like rune stones. Everyone was arguing. "[excited]Today's a great fortune! Look at this!" "[angry]It's a terrible fortune. The stars say so." "[serious]That divination method has no basis. By this method, it's ordinary." "[angry]What does ordinary even mean!" The moment Ritsuka tried to intervene, three sets of eyes snapped toward them. "[excited]Perfect timing. Let's divine your fortune, Master." "[serious]With this divination method." "[serious]No, with this one." Three different divinations were performed in rapid succession. The results were—great fortune, worst fortune, ordinary. The three glared at each other. Ritsuka stood up with a wry smile. "[gentle]…Thank you. I'll keep it in mind." They left quickly. Walking down the hallway, the divination results somehow lingered in their mind. Great fortune. Worst fortune. Ordinary. What did it mean to get all three? they wondered—but then thought, well, it's just divination, and tried to laugh it off. ────── Evening came. Ritsuka was walking aimlessly. They'd finally washed off the flour. But the exhaustion remained. Running around everywhere, stepping in, apologizing, detouring, apologizing again—what had they been doing all day? Walking down the hallway, they suddenly noticed something. The central control room door was open. At this time of day, the operators should be on shift change, with no one inside for a brief period. Chaldeas floating in the center of the control room—the massive sphere—came into view. Something was wrong. Usually it glowed with a calm, stable blue light, but not today. It flickered weakly, on and off. Ritsuka stopped. "[whispers]…Huh?" With an uneasy feeling, they entered the control room. They leaned over the operator's station monitor. A warning window was open at the edge of the largest screen. A notification from Trismegistus, the spiritual calculation device. Ritsuka read the monitor. ——Magical furnace output decline detected. Estimated remaining operational days at current output: 7 days. Seven days. "[scared]…" They read the number again. Seven days. The magical furnace. Deep beneath Chaldea, the system that supplied power and magical energy to the entire facility. If that stopped—Chaldeas would stop. If Chaldeas stopped, all systems maintaining the Servants' manifestation would stop. In other words—everyone would disappear. From outside the hallway, a voice could be heard. Someone laughing. Maybe the Servants who'd been divining earlier. A cheerful voice. Ritsuka stood before the monitor, unable to move. ────── Dinner time came. Dishes were neatly arranged on the cafeteria tables. Made by Emiya. As if the chaos of earlier had never happened, clean white rice, clear soup, and properly plated side dishes were placed at equal intervals along the long table. Servants took their seats one after another. It was noisy. Someone was laughing about the cooking battle from earlier. Someone was debating how to arrange the treasures. Someone was still hung up on the divination results. Ritsuka sat in their usual seat. They looked around. These faces might disappear seven days from now. The number that had been circling in their head came back. Seven days. Seven days. Seven days. Should they tell someone? But how? That the magical furnace might stop and everyone might disappear—could they say that on a day off like this? Ritsuka looked at the food on the table. White rice steaming. Soup gently swaying. "You're not eating?" Emiya was suddenly sitting beside them. Quietly holding chopsticks, looking at Ritsuka sideways. Ritsuka was slightly startled. "[gentle]…Yeah. I was just thinking about something." They smiled. Whether it was a good smile, they didn't know. "I see." Emiya didn't ask anything more. He simply began eating. Ritsuka picked up their chopsticks too. They took a sip of soup. It was warm. The table was loud. Arguments and laughter and the sound of dishes. Just another night at Chaldea. Ritsuka ate while looking around. Their expression was smiling. In their chest was cold anxiety. Both were true. ────── After dinner. Ritsuka passed alone in front of the control room. Chaldeas's light was still flickering. It seemed slightly weaker than before. Maybe it was just their imagination. Walking down the hallway, something small brushed against the sole of their foot. They stopped and looked down. A blue fragment lay there. Small. About the size of a fingernail. It looked like glass, but something was different. It seemed to contain a faint blue light. What is this? they wondered, and picked it up. It was slightly cold. Without thinking much about it, Ritsuka put it in their cardigan pocket. The hallway was quiet. The time when the facility gradually settled down for the night. In the Himalayas, six thousand meters above sea level, the facility's night was freezing outside. But inside was warm. Ritsuka walked, touching the fragment in their pocket with their fingertips. Seven days. They hadn't told anyone. They couldn't today. But tomorrow—they thought, then realized tomorrow was still uncertain. At least today, Emiya's food was delicious. That much was certain.