The punishment held.
It wasn't easy, I'll admit that. Every night, when I retired to my room with Jeanne Alter on my right and Nero on my left, I felt the eyes of the punished ones boring into my back like daggers. They were looks of longing, of frustration, of poorly concealed jealousy. But they were also looks of respect. For the first time, they saw me not just as their Master, their boyfriend, or their future husband, but as someone who could and should set boundaries. And that, though painful for them, was necessary.
The first few days were the hardest. Tamamo no Mae roamed the hallways with her drooping tails, preparing increasingly elaborate dishes that she left in front of my door like offerings. "Goshujin-sama, I made your favorite dish... please, at least open the door for me..." Kiyohime would sit on the hallway floor for hours, hugging her knees, her dragon eyes fixed on my door like an abandoned dog. "Anchin-sama, I know you're in there... I'm not asking you to let me sleep with you, just... just let me see you..."
But I stood firm. I opened the door, took the food — I wasn't going to waste it; cooking was one of Tamamo's few talents — and thanked her politely. But I didn't let her in. I gave Kiyohime a kiss on the forehead, told her everything would be alright, and then closed the door. Gently, but firmly.
Scáthach was a different case. She didn't beg. She didn't cry. She didn't cook. But she was there, always lurking. In the gym, during my training sessions, she watched me with an intensity she hadn't had before. Her crimson eyes followed me around the entire room, and when she corrected my posture — because she was still my teacher, punishment or not — her fingers lingered on my skin longer than necessary. One day, while adjusting my grip on the practice spear, her lips brushed my ear. "You're cruel, my husband. But that... I like it." I froze. She smiled and stepped back, leaving me with my heart hammering in my chest.
«Tezcatlipoca, is she using the punishment to seduce me?»
«Obviously. She's Scáthach. For her, everything is a power game. And you, by punishing her, have raised the stakes. Now she wants to play.»
«And what do I do?»
«Stay firm. Punishment is punishment. If you give in, everything will have been in vain.»
The Artoria Alters were the ones taking it the worst. Saber Alter didn't beg — her pride prevented it — but her way of "apologizing" was showing up at my door at ungodly hours with increasingly ridiculous excuses. "Master, I need to consult you about Chaldea's defenses." "It's two in the morning, Artoria." "Defense never sleeps." Lancer Alter, for her part, simply stood in the hallway, leaning on her spear, watching the door with her golden eyes. She said nothing. Asked for nothing. But her silent presence was more eloquent than a thousand words. She was there, waiting. Always waiting.
And then there was Morgan. The one who had caused it all. The one who had arrived like a hurricane and shaken Chaldea's foundations to its core. Curiously, she accepted the punishment best. Not because she agreed with it, but because, as she told me one day, "a king who does not accept the consequences of their actions is not worthy of being king." Her attitude had changed. She was still haughty, still proud, but she no longer provoked the others. She no longer proclaimed herself "first wife." Instead, she observed me. Studied me. As if she were gathering data for a future strategy.
"You're different from how I remember you," she said one afternoon, as we had tea in the cafeteria. It was one of the few interactions I allowed her, always in public spaces with other people present.
"Different how?"
"In my memories of the future, you were a king consort. Someone who ruled beside me with wisdom and justice. But you were also... softer. More lenient." Her blue eyes bored into me. "This you, the one now, is harder. More firm. I like it."
"Is that a compliment or a criticism?"
"It's an observation." She took a sip of her tea. "And an admission. Perhaps I rushed upon arriving. Perhaps I should have gotten to know you better before claiming you."
"Perhaps."
"Don't apologize for the punishment," she added, with a half-smile. "It's fair. And justice is a quality I value."
I didn't know whether to feel flattered or worried.
While the punished ones suffered through their purgatory, the unpunished ones took advantage of the situation. And boy, did they ever.
Jeanne Alter was my most frequent companion. Since she had left behind her cold tsundere facet and embraced her semi-friendly tsundere mode, spending time with her was... pleasant. Strangely pleasant. She still insulted me, of course. "Idiot," "useless," "how can you be so clueless?" But now those insults came accompanied by morning coffees, walks through the hallways, her hand brushing against mine. It was her way of saying "I love you" without actually saying the words.
Nero was the complete opposite. She had no problem saying "I love you," "I adore you," "you are my Caesar of the heart," and any other declaration that came to mind. Her love was theatrical, exuberant, sometimes exhausting. But it was genuine. Every morning she greeted me with a radiant smile. Every night she curled up against me with a satisfied sigh. And her habit of pulling my hand down to her buttock so I would give it a squeeze had become a routine that, I admit, made me blush every time.
"My Caesar," she whispered one night, while we were lying down, "do you know why the punishment of the others doesn't affect me?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't need to compete." She rested her chin on my chest, her green eyes shining in the dim light. "I am Nero Claudius. Empress of Rome. Peerless artist. My place by your side is assured, not because I demand it, but because I deserve it. And you know it."
I couldn't help but smile. "You're incredibly modest."
"Modesty is for the mediocre."
Mash, for her part, was more subtle. She didn't sneak into my bed — she had her own room and respected the schedule even when the schedule was in crisis — but she found excuses to be near me. She accompanied me at meals. She sat next to me during Da Vinci's briefings. She helped me review strategies for the next Singularity. And every now and then, when she thought no one was watching, she would give me a kiss on the cheek and retreat with an adorable blush.
"Senpai," she said one day, while we were reviewing maps of ancient Mesopotamia in Chaldea's library. "Are you okay? Lately you've been... tense."
"It's the punishment," I admitted. "It's not easy ignoring the others."
"But it's necessary, isn't it?"
"Yes. It is."
Mash nodded, and her hand rested on mine. "I'm proud of you, Senpai. You've matured a lot since you arrived."
"You think so?"
"I do. Before, you doubted every decision. Now... now you lead. And that's what we need."
Her words warmed my chest. Mash always knew what to say.
And then there was Jeanne Ruler. The saint. The maiden of Orléans. The one who wasn't officially my girlfriend, but who felt jealous as if she were. Since the punished ones had been pushed aside, Jeanne Ruler had found the space she previously lacked to get closer to me. No more Tamamo pushing her aside with her tails. No more Kiyohime throwing murderous glances her way. No more Scáthach interrupting with her predatory presence. Just us.
—Leonel —she said one afternoon, finding me in Chaldea's chapel. It was a small room with wooden pews and a simple altar, where she often prayed—. Can I talk to you?
—Sure, Jeanne. What's up?
—No, nothing's wrong. It's just... —She fidgeted with her banner, nervous—. I wanted to thank you.
—Thank me? For what?
—For keeping order. For punishing those who were fighting. For... for being fair. —Her cheeks flushed red—. I know I'm not your official girlfriend. I know we haven't... formalized anything yet. But seeing how you defend the peace in Chaldea, seeing how you protect everyone even when they cause you trouble... it makes me admire you even more.
—Jeanne...
—You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. —She stepped forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was a chaste kiss, pure, almost liturgical. But its warmth stayed with me for hours.
«That woman is in love with you», commented Tezcatlipoca.
«I know.»
«And what are you going to do about it?»
«I don't know. But whatever it is, it'll be after Babylon. I don't have time for more complications right now.»
«As if your life wasn't already complicated enough.»
As the days passed, the situation became comical. And not comical in the "funny for me" sense, but comical in the "this looks like a scene from a harem anime" sense. Because yes, my life had turned into a harem anime, with all that entailed.
The punished ones had moved from frustration to desperation, and from desperation to action. Unable to accept that the punishment would last until the end of Babylon — which could be a month or more — they started coming up with ways to lift the punishment. Ways that ranged from sweet and touching to blatantly perverted.
Tamamo was the first to try. One morning, I woke up to the aroma of a banquet. Literally, a banquet. Tamamo had prepared an entire table in front of my door: rice with vegetables, miso soup, grilled fish, Japanese omelet, pickles, and a steaming cup of green tea. She was standing next to the table, dressed in an apron over her kimono, her tails twitching nervously.
—Goshujin-sama —she said, in her sweetest voice—. I've prepared your favorite breakfast. And your lunch. And your dinner. And I thought that... if the food pleases you... perhaps you could reconsider the punishment...
—Tamamo...
—Just a little bit! I'm not saying lift it completely! Just... shorten it! One day! Just one day!
—The punishment stands. But thank you for breakfast.
Her tails drooped sadly, but she didn't give up.
Kiyohime tried a different approach. One afternoon, she found me in the library and sat next to me, unusually quiet. She was wearing a new dress, more modest than her usual attire, and had tied her hair up in a bun. She seemed... normal. Harmless. Human.
—Anchin-sama —she whispered—, I've been reflecting.
—About what, Kiyohime?
—About my behavior. About my jealousy. About how I turned into a dragon and threatened the others. —Her fingers toyed with the edge of her sleeve—. I know it's wrong. I know I need to control myself. But it's just... I love you so much that I'm scared of losing you.
—You're not going to lose me, Kiyohime.
—Really?
—Really. But I need you to trust me. To trust that I won't abandon you, no matter what happens. And that you don't need to threaten anyone to prove your love.
She nodded slowly. Then, she leaned towards me and rested her head on my shoulder. —I'll try, Anchin-sama. I'll really try.
It was a tender moment. Until she tried to kiss me on the lips.
—Kiyohime. The punishment.
—But it was such a beautiful moment!
—It was. And that's why, when the punishment is over, we can have more moments like this. But until then...
She pulled her face back, frustrated, but with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. —Okay. I'll wait. But then you'll owe me a kiss. A very long kiss.
—Deal.
The Artoria Alters tried a more direct method. One night, while walking towards my room, I found both of them blocking the hallway. Saber Alter stood with her arms crossed, her expression icy. Lancer Alter leaned on her spear, her golden eyes fixed on me.
—Master —said Saber Alter.
—Artoria. Artoria. What's up?
—We've come to... apologize. —The words seemed to cost her a superhuman effort—. Our behavior was... inappropriate.
—Inappropriate —repeated Lancer Alter, like a deep echo.
—I appreciate the apology. But the punishment stands.
—We know. —Saber Alter clenched her fists—. But we wanted to tell you that... we regret causing trouble. And that... we value your leadership.
—We value —repeated Lancer Alter.
—And that... even if we don't show it... we... —Saber Alter choked on the word.
—We love you —completed Lancer Alter, with a naturalness that made her counterpart blush violently.
—Artoria! —exclaimed Saber Alter.
—What? It's the truth. I don't see why we should hide it.
I stood there, in the middle of the hallway, processing that Artoria Lancer Alter had just said "we love you" without batting an eye. It was the first time I'd heard her say it. And although her tone was neutral, almost clinical, there was an underlying warmth I couldn't ignore.
—Thank you —I replied, with a smile—. I love you both too. But the punishment stands.
—We know —they said in unison, with a hint of frustration.
Morgan, for her part, tried something completely different. One afternoon, while I was in my room reviewing reports, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, I found her dressed not in her fairy queen attire, but in a simple blue dress that reached her knees. No crown. No staff. No jewels. She seemed... normal. Almost vulnerable.
—My husband —she said, her voice softer than usual—. May I come in?
—Morgan, you know the punishment...
—I'm not here to seduce you. I'm here to talk.
I let her in. She sat on the edge of my bed, her hands clasped in her lap, her posture upright but not haughty.
—I want to apologize —she said—. Truly. Not with empty words, but with an explanation.
—I'm listening.
—In the future I come from, you and I are married. We rule Britain together. You are my king consort, my partner, my equal. —She paused—. But that future is not this one. This is a different present. A different you. And I... I arrived assuming you were the same man I will marry. I was arrogant.
—A little.
—A lot —she admitted—. I wanted to impose myself because I thought I had the right to. But I don't. Not yet. —She lifted her gaze, her blue eyes meeting mine—. What I'm trying to say is that I want to start over. Get to know you as you are now, not as I remember you. And if something comes of it over time... let it happen. But without impositions.
—That's a very mature apology, Morgan.
—I am a queen. Queens know when to correct course.
—So, you accept the punishment without further sabotage attempts?
—I accept it. But that doesn't mean I won't court you. —A mischievous smile curved her lips—. It just means I'll do it with more... delicacy.
—That's cheating.
—It's not cheating. It's strategy.
When she left, I stayed thinking. Morgan was dangerous. But she was also... fascinating. And her apology had sounded genuine.
«Do you think she's sincere?», I asked Tezcatlipoca.
«Yes. But she also believes she can win you over by attrition. Don't underestimate a fairy queen.»
«I won't.»
And then came the day when everything changed. The day the punished ones joined forces.
It was an ambush. A carefully planned ambush executed with military precision. I was in the common room, sitting on a sofa, with Jeanne Alter on my right and Jeanne Ruler on my left. We were having a surprisingly civilized conversation about the differences between the fire of hatred and divine fire — Jeanne Alter insisted her fire was "more authentic," while Ruler argued that heavenly fire was "purer" — when I saw them appear.
First came Tamamo, entering through the main door with her tails coiled in a submissive posture. Then Kiyohime, following her with timid steps. Behind them, Saber Alter and Lancer Alter, walking with the stiffness of someone about to do something they hate. And bringing up the rear, Morgan le Fay, her expression a mask of calm that didn't entirely hide her tension. Scáthach wasn't there, probably because her pride prevented her from participating in whatever they were planning.
They lined up in front of me. Five women. Five legends. Five punished fiancées.
—What are you...? —I started.
But I couldn't finish. Because in unison, the five raised their faces towards me and looked at me with puppy dog eyes.
It was a technique I'd seen before. Tamamo had tried it alone. Kiyohime too. But seeing it executed by all five at once, in perfect synchronization, was... devastating. Tamamo's eyes were the most effective: her fox pupils dilated, shining with a moisture that seemed about to spill over into tears. Kiyohime's were more intense, with a dragon gleam that was strangely adorable. The Artoria Alters did it worse — it was clearly not their style — but the mere fact that they were trying made them seem vulnerable. And Morgan... Morgan had perfected the technique into an art form. Her blue eyes, normally cold and calculating, were now two pools of melancholy begging for mercy.
—Master —they said in unison, their voices forming a pitiful chorus—. Forgive us.
I blinked. Jeanne Alter burst out laughing. Jeanne Ruler crossed herself, probably asking heaven for strength not to laugh.
—What is this? —I asked, astonished.
—A plea —replied Tamamo, her eyes shining—. A collective plea. We've joined together to ask you to lift the punishment.
—We can't take it anymore —added Kiyohime, her fingers clutching the edge of her skirt—. Please, Anchin-sama. Forgive us.
—We've learned our lesson —said Saber Alter, her cheeks slightly flushed—. We won't fight again.
—Never again —confirmed Lancer Alter.
—It's been a very valuable lesson —concluded Morgan—. And we are sorry. Deeply sorry.
—All of you together? —I asked, incredulous—. Did you plan this?
—Yes —admitted Tamamo—. But not as a trick. As a... demonstration of unity. We wanted to show you that we can work together. That we can set aside our differences.
—For you —added Kiyohime—. Because we love you. And because we don't want to spend a month without you.
I fell silent. I looked at each of them. I saw the hope in their eyes. I saw the desperation beneath the surface. I saw the love they felt for me, a love that had led them to humble themselves together, to unite in a plea that went against their pride. And I felt my resolve waver.
«Don't give in», warned Tezcatlipoca.
«I know. But look at them. They're suffering.»
«The punishment is necessary.»
«But for how long? It's already been two weeks. They've learned their lesson. Maybe...»
«Leonel...»
I tried to be strong. I really did. But their puppy dog eyes were too much. Too much for my soft-hearted Master's heart. Too much for the man who, under the facade of a firm leader, just wanted everyone to be happy.
—Alright —I sighed.
The eyes of the five lit up.
—But —I added, raising a finger—, with conditions.
—Anything, Goshujin-sama! —exclaimed Tamamo.
—First: no more fighting. If I see another argument like the one two weeks ago, the punishment will be reinstated. And this time, it'll be twice as long.
—Accepted —they said in unison.
—Second: Morgan is not the official wife. No one is. You are all equal in my eyes. Understood?
—Understood —replied Morgan, without blinking. The others nodded enthusiastically.
—And third: tonight, I'll sleep alone. I need a day to process this. Tomorrow, we can go back to the rotation schedule. Agreed?
There was a moment of silence. Then, Tamamo lunged at me and hugged me with all her tails. Kiyohime followed suit, wrapping me in her arms. The Artoria Alters stayed still, but their expressions softened. Morgan smiled, a genuine smile, and nodded slowly.
—Thank you, Master —whispered Saber Alter.
—Thank you —repeated Lancer Alter.
—Don't thank me yet —I replied—. This doesn't mean I've forgotten what happened. But... I think you've learned your lesson. And I believe in second chances.
Jeanne Alter snorted beside me. —Idiot. You're too soft.
—I know —I admitted—. But it is what it is.
Jeanne Ruler, on the other hand, smiled. —You're a good man, Leonel. A fair man.
—I hope so.
And then, just as peace returned to Chaldea, the alarm sounded.
It wasn't just any alarm. It was the Singularity alarm, a deep, piercing howl that echoed through all the facility's speakers. The lights turned red. The floor vibrated slightly, as if the very earth was reacting to the detection.
—ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL —Olga Marie's voice rang out over the intercom, her tone sharp and professional—. A NEW SINGULARITY HAS BEEN DETECTED. MASTER LEONEL HERRERA AND ASSIGNED SERVANTS, REPORT TO THE COMMAND ROOM IMMEDIATELY. I REPEAT: REPORT TO THE COMMAND ROOM IMMEDIATELY.
My heart skipped a beat. We had been waiting for this for weeks. We knew it was coming. But still, hearing the alarm was like a bucket of cold water.
—It's time —I said, standing up.
My Servants looked at me with expressions ranging from determination to anxiety. Tamamo clenched her fists. Kiyohime bit her lip. The Artoria Alters exchanged a glance. Morgan nodded slowly. And Jeanne Alter, beside me, let out a snort.
—Well then, let's go, idiot. We can't keep the end of the world waiting.
Chaldea's command room was a hive of activity. Technical staff ran back and forth, adjusting parameters, monitoring readings, shouting data I didn't understand. In the center of the room, the large holographic screen projected an image that chilled my blood: a vortex of energy in the middle of what looked like a Mesopotamian desert. The space-time coordinates flickered in a corner. 2600 BC. Babylon. The cradle of civilization.
Romani Archaman stood in front of the screen, with dark circles that betrayed several sleepless nights. Da Vinci beside him, her tablet glowing with data. And Olga Marie, the director, standing in the center of the room, her expression a mask of seriousness.
—Leonel, welcome —said Olga, without preamble—. We have a situation.
—I can see that. Is it Babylon?
—Yes. The Seventh Singularity. The last one before the Temple of Time. —She paused—. And it's the worst we've seen so far.
Roman spoke up, his fingers flying over the keyboard. —The Singularity is located in Mesopotamia, around 2600 BC. It's the era of Gilgamesh, the king of Uruk. According to our preliminary data, the city of Uruk is the only human bastion remaining in the region. The rest... has been wiped out.
—Wiped out by whom? —I asked.
—By Tiamat.
The name resonated in the room like a hammer blow. Tiamat. The primordial goddess. The mother of all monsters. The Beast of Creation. In the game, she had been one of the most difficult enemies to defeat, not because of her raw power, but because of her conceptual nature. Tiamat could not be killed as long as life existed on Earth. She was the very source of existence, the origin of everything, and destroying her required an immense sacrifice.
—Is Tiamat already active? —I asked, though I knew the answer.
—Yes. And not just Tiamat. —Roman zoomed in on the image on the screen, showing a map of the region—. There are also other Divine Spirits. Ishtar, the goddess of the sky. Ereshkigal, the queen of the underworld. Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent of Mesoamerica. And Gorgon, the gorgon of Greek mythology. All of them are on one side or the other in this war.
—In the game, some of those gods were allies —I muttered to myself.
—Game? —asked Olga, raising an eyebrow.
—Nothing, Director. Just thinking out loud. —I took a deep breath—. What's our main objective?
—Twofold —replied Da Vinci, intervening—. First, contact Gilgamesh and establish an alliance with Uruk. It's the only human city still standing, and its king is the key to defeating Tiamat. Second, locate the Holy Grail of this Singularity. Without it, we won't be able to repair the temporal distortion.
—Is there anything else I should know?
Roman and Da Vinci exchanged a glance. It was Olga who responded.
—The Babylon Singularity is different from the previous ones. It's not just a historical distortion. It's a breaking point. If Tiamat awakens fully and wipes out Uruk, human history will crumble. There will be no future. No past. Only... emptiness.
—Pressure, huh? —I said, with a wry smile.
—It's not pressure. It's the truth. —Olga looked me straight in the eye—. This is the battle that will decide if humanity has a tomorrow. Are you ready?
—I am.
—Good. Now, let's talk about your team.
The Servants who would accompany me on the initial mission were already decided. Mash, of course, was mandatory. As my first Servant and the bearer of Lord Camelot, she was our strongest defense. Nero Claudius had volunteered, arguing that "an emperor must be present at the battle that will decide the fate of the world." And Jeanne Ruler, to my surprise, had also stepped forward.
—I know I'm not the strongest —Jeanne had said, her banner in hand—. But my flag can protect our allies. And my faith... my faith can be a beacon in the darkness. Let me go with you, Leonel.
—Of course, Jeanne.
The other Servants would stay in Chaldea, ready to be summoned as soon as I established a summoning circle in the Singularity. Tamamo, Kiyohime, the Artorias, Morgan, Scáthach, Jeanne Alter, all of them would be on standby. And all of them looked at me with a mixture of concern and determination as I headed towards the Rayshift coffins.
—Goshujin-sama —said Tamamo, grabbing my sleeve—. Please, come back soon. And set up the summoning circle as soon as possible. I can't stand the thought of you being there alone.
—He won't be alone —intervened Mash—. We'll be with him.
—I know. But still...
—I'll come back —I promised—. We all will.
Kiyohime gave me a quick hug. The Artoria Alters gave me a nod. Morgan took my hand and kissed it gently. Scáthach, from the back, threw me a look that said "if you die, I'll hunt you down in the underworld." And Jeanne Alter...
Jeanne Alter grabbed my neck and kissed me. It was a rough, almost violent kiss, but filled with an emotion she couldn't hide.
—Don't die, idiot —she whispered against my lips—. Or I'll kill you.
—You've said that before.
—Well, I'm saying it again.
I smiled. —I won't die. I promise you.
I stepped into the Rayshift coffin. Mash positioned herself beside me, her shield ready. Nero entered hers with a theatrical flourish. Jeanne Ruler crossed herself before entering. And then, Olga's voice echoed over the speakers.
—Initiating Rayshift in 10 seconds. 9... 8... 7...
I looked at my Servants through the glass. At those who were staying behind. At those who would come later. At those who trusted me.
—3... 2... 1... RAYSHIFT!
The world tore apart. Light blinded me. Time stretched like taffy. And when everything settled, I was no longer in Chaldea. I was in Mesopotamia. In the year 2600 BC. In the Seventh Singularity.
The desert wind hit my face. The Mesopotamian sun momentarily blinded me. And in front of me, silhouetted against the horizon, a figure I recognized from my memories of the game.
A woman, floating in the air. Her hair black as jet. Her eyes red as blood. Her smile crooked and full of superiority.
—Ohhh, visitors? —she said, her voice a mix of curiosity and mockery—. How interesting. It's been centuries since I saw live humans around here.
Ishtar. The goddess of the sky. And from her expression, she wasn't sure if we were allies or prey.
The Seventh Singularity had begun.