"We might not make it in time." The words fell quietly into the darkness of the workshop. Friday night. Chaldea's workshop remained pitch black. The power outage continued. Trismegistus's cooling pipes were dented, and restoration was scheduled for tomorrow morning—but even if morning came, the remaining time would only slip away. Fujimaru Ritsuka sat on the floor. Fragments of a shattered spiritual vein stone scattered across the workbench. Bluish-silver shards. Only the thin beam of a flashlight to rely on, and they glimmered in that narrow light. For a while now, they'd just been picking up the same fragments the same way, making no progress at all. (How many hours are left?) They looked at the monitor. Red numbers floated there. —Remaining time: 48 hours. Ritsuka laughed quietly. The laugh sounded wrong. They could tell themselves. It was the laugh of someone about to cry. They gripped the tool again. Tweezers. A delicate instrument for picking up fine fragments one by one. They could feel their fingertips trembling. The trembling wouldn't stop. Were they tired? Cold? Maybe both. The air conditioning was weak because of the blackout, and the workshop air was chilly. They aimed at another fragment. The tip of the tweezers wavered slightly. Clink. The fragment fell from the bench. It rolled across the dark floor and disappeared somewhere. "……Ah" Ritsuka pointed the flashlight at the floor. The circle of light searched the ground. Where, where. They dropped to their knees and felt along the floor with their hand. Cold floor. The texture of dust. Where was the fragment— Click. Their hand hit the flashlight switch. It went out. Complete darkness. Ritsuka sat still in the darkness for a while. "……This is the worst" Their voice grew smaller. Too small for anyone to hear. They pressed the switch again. Light returned. They found the fragment. Put it in the bag. But their hands still wouldn't stop shaking. That's when it happened. —Beep. The wall monitor flashed red. Ritsuka looked up. The monitor display had changed. Warning text. Red. Blinking. They stood and opened the door. Looked down the hallway. Their breath was white. (What?) The temperature had dropped. Clearly dropped. The hallway was colder than the workshop, which had felt so cold just moments ago. The breath they exhaled became a faint white mist. At the far end of the hallway, a Servant stood alone. Not Chaldea staff. A Heroic Spirit. Their outline— (What?) —was blurred. Not a sharp outline. The wall behind them showed through faintly. Their spiritual foundation was wavering. They were becoming translucent. (It's my fault.) The thought crashed into Ritsuka's mind. (I declared a day off. Everyone slacked. Work stopped. The spiritual vein stone broke. We lost twelve hours. Now there's not enough time left. The magic furnace is about to fail, and the Servant's spiritual foundation is wavering.) All of it. All of it was their fault. Ritsuka's feet wouldn't move. They went back to the workshop. Closed the door. Slid down to a crouch on the floor. The flashlight beam alone lit the dim floor. Their hands were shaking. They couldn't grip the tools anymore. Their fingertips were numb. (I'm alone again.) They knew that feeling from before. Right after the Chaldea explosion. They still remembered that day. After the blast, Ritsuka stood alone in the hallway. All forty-seven other Master candidates were down. No one got up. It was quiet. With this many people in the facility, no one moved. No sound. They walked the hallway alone. Only their footsteps echoed. They opened a door. Someone else was down. Another door. Someone else was down. It was the same everywhere. No calls for help. No shouts. Just silence, and only Ritsuka moving. That terror from then overlapped with now. (I have no talent for magecraft.) That was true. They'd heard some staff member say Ritsuka was the Master candidate with the least talent at Chaldea. Maybe they thought they hadn't heard, but they had. And they agreed. No special power. They had Command Spells. That was all. (What can an ordinary person do?) Tears came. They tried to hold them back but they came. They didn't make a sound. They cried silently. They curled up so much their forehead nearly touched the floor. The flashlight beam slanted across the floor. They could see the monitor numbers. 48 hours. (We won't make it.) —Clang. The door opened. Ritsuka didn't look up. Maybe staff had come. But they couldn't bring themselves to turn around. "……" No words. Ritsuka slowly turned. Two people stood in the doorway. Gilbert Zahal and Maurice Levya. Both frozen in an awkward position, as if unsure whether to enter. Gilbert's golden eyes looked at Ritsuka. Maurice's red eyes looked at Ritsuka. Both had strange expressions. Not uncomfortable exactly, but like they didn't know how to move. Later, Ritsuka heard that the two had tried to open the door at the same time, their shoulders bumped, and they'd said something to each other in low voices. But at that moment, Ritsuka didn't know any of that. Gilbert moved first. He entered the workshop without a word. He sat down quietly right beside Ritsuka—right next to where Ritsuka sat on the floor. He wasn't in armor. Today he wore practical clothes. His golden long hair fell over his shoulder. And he took off his mantle. A golden mantle. Lustrous fabric with fine embroidery along the edges. The one Gilbert always wore. He draped it quietly over Ritsuka's shoulders. In that moment, Gilbert's hand touched Ritsuka's shoulder. For just an instant, that hand stopped. Ritsuka noticed. Gilbert noticed too. But neither said anything. Gilbert withdrew his hand and sat beside Ritsuka, facing the wall ahead. He looked away. Maurice entered the workshop. Closed the door. He knelt on one knee and picked up one of the scattered spiritual vein stone fragments. He looked at it for a while. Then he said quietly. "[sad]……Sorry about that" Ritsuka said nothing. "[sad]The stone, I broke it. I didn't mean to……but that's just an excuse, isn't it" Maurice set the fragment down on the floor. His red eyes didn't look at Ritsuka. He was looking down a bit. This was the first time Ritsuka had seen Maurice so quiet. Gilbert, still facing the wall ahead, still looking away, opened his mouth. "[cold]……I too was somewhat selfish" His voice was quiet. Not his usual arrogant tone. Ritsuka looked at both of them while feeling the mantle on their shoulders. Two people who didn't know how to comfort, just standing there. Neither could say anything smooth. But they came. That was all. Ritsuka cried and laughed quietly. This laugh felt different from before. "[crying]Thank you……but we might not make it. Only 48 hours left. Can we finish all the processing——" Gilbert fell silent. A long silence. Maurice said nothing either. He was looking at the broken fragments. Gilbert faced the wall ahead, thinking about something. You could tell he was thinking. His golden eyes narrowed slightly. Then Gilbert opened his mouth. "[serious]……There is one in the depths of the treasury" "What?" "[serious]In my former kingdom, there was once an excellent blacksmith. A Noble Phantasm that craftsman used. High-speed refinement——a tool that drastically reduces processing time. If you use that, the time needed to finish the furnace core will be greatly cut" "[surprised]Something like that exists……!" "[serious]However" Gilbert closed his mouth once. "[serious]Once used, it breaks. It is consumable. I will never obtain it again. A treasure I spent a long time collecting, the only one of its kind in this world" Silence. Maurice lifted his eyes from the fragment. Looked at Gilbert. Said nothing. Waited. Ritsuka waited too. Gilbert was silent again. A longer silence than before. You could tell he was struggling with something. The usual arrogance was gone. The prideful, treasure-bragging Gilbert was now quietly swallowing something down. Ritsuka remembered the third incident. When the collapse happened underground. He'd held up the golden shield above Ritsuka's head, taking all the weight of the rocks. The moment he saw that dented shield afterward—Gilbert's face then and his face now were slightly similar. Gilbert spoke quietly. "[serious]Use it" It was short. "[surprised]……Are you sure?" "[cold]I have decided. Do not argue" That was all. Maurice let out a breath. Maybe he laughed. His mouth moved just slightly. But he said nothing. Ritsuka felt the golden mantle on their shoulders. Gilbert's body heat still lingered there. It was warm. The flashlight beam lit the scattered fragments. Bluish-silver light. The monitor numbers were still red. 48 hours. But——there was something in this dark workshop now that wasn't there before. Ritsuka picked up the tweezers again. This time, the trembling had eased a little. "[gentle]……Thank you, both of you" Gilbert, still facing forward, snorted. "[cold]Save your thanks for after the work is done" Maurice stood up. "[serious]So, that Noble Phantasm——who knows how to use it" All three fell silent at once. Ritsuka, Gilbert, Maurice looked at each other's faces in turn. "[gentle]……Huh?" "[serious]……" "[serious]Nobody knows, right" Silence again. The flashlight beam sat there, steady. 48 hours. A Noble Phantasm that breaks after one use. And——no one at Chaldea knows how to use it. Ritsuka held the tweezers and looked up at the ceiling.