Anomaly Ch. 44

Soon enough, the meeting ended. They had spent over an hour or two more discussing the organization of their forces, their food supplies, everything to do with managing their rebellion. It reminded Shirou of herding cats, really. A lot of problems stemmed from infighting as much as external forces, due to the sheer variety of demi-humans. 

Many of the participants would leave one by one, citing having their own tasks to get to. Each one would be greeted by a nod of understanding, though Shirou was distinctly uncomfortable when Helena, the pixie, floated next to him and took a massive whiff.

That was just plain weird.

At any rate, all that was left was Shirou, Komakado, Anatoly, and the elf whose name he still hadn’t gotten. At least, until Komakado spoke up, “Caroline, you can take a break. Me and my countryman can talk to each other just fine.”

The elf blinked in response, before nodding with a thankful look on her face. Though, she still gave him a somewhat suspicious glance, not that Shirou could blame her. Anatoly must’ve gotten the memo, since the Yaga stood up and followed the elf out.

It was quiet for a few seconds. Waiting to see if everyone had actually left and weren’t just eavesdropping outside. After nothing happened, Komakado’s almost relaxed persona died a quick death, “Lay it on me, why are you here, and how bad is it?” He made a motion as if he were reaching for something, and it was only through experience that Shirou knew that the man had instinctively reached for a cigarette.

“The closest approximation for my target is a bio-terrorist. He’s capable of cannibalizing still living individuals to give himself pseudo-immortality, through the use of specially made parasites. So long as even one of those survive, he can resurrect himself.” Shirou didn’t mince his words. While he did cut down on the technicalities, that was only because he’d have spent much more time explaining them than getting down to the gist of it.

Which was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Matou/Makiri family was a danger to everyone. 

Komakado exhaled sharply through his nose, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, “Great. Just great. A flesh-eating immortal. Because we didn’t have enough problems already. Fucking magic.” His fingers twitched, still missing the presence of a cigarette, “And let me guess—he’s not content to just sit back and mind his own business?”

Shirou shook his head, “No. Matou Zouken doesn’t do ‘staying put’. We've already found some evidence that he's infected several individuals with his parasites, natives of this world that haven't had any contact with Japan."

Komakado pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that Shirou was fairly certain wasn’t meant to be polite, “You’re sure it’s him? Not just some similar horror show crawling out of the woodwork?”

“Absolutely.” Shirou’s voice was firm, unwavering.

Komakado’s fist slammed down on the table, a scowl on his face, “You know, I had hoped that you were just here to help us, since Japan must’ve known that some of their people got kidnapped. Guess I’m still young enough that I still had some hope that that was what it was.”

“For what it’s worth, they may have known.” Shirou shrugged apologetically, “I haven’t set foot in Japan ever since Ginza.”

Komakado snorted, shaking his head, “Right. Of course.” He exhaled sharply, tapping his fingers against the table, “So, you’re telling me we have an undead parasite-infested nightmare running around, and we don’t even know how far he’s spread?”

“That’s about the size of it.” Shirou confirmed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you've had some unexplained cases of disappearances around here. He’s not the kind to waste resources.”

Komakado muttered another curse under his breath, “You got a plan, or are we just improvising?”

Shirou glanced at the door, ensuring once more that they were alone, “Find him. Kill him. Burn whatever he’s left behind so nothing can be salvaged.”

Komakado let out a slow, measured breath, eyes narrowing in thought, “Simple plan. I like it. But simple doesn’t mean easy.” He tapped his fingers against the table, “And if he’s already got his hooks in the locals, that complicates things. You ever tried explaining to a grieving mother that her missing kid is actually a walking flesh-husk for a parasitic abomination?”

“There’s still a chance that he hasn’t gotten this far yet.” The magus frowned, “That’s more on why I wanted to reach the capital in the first place; I need more information, cases where those damned Crest Worms may have popped up.”

“And then you just so happened to walk into a rebellion, that you likely wouldn’t have known about till it got put down.” The former intelligence officer snorted, “What a damned day.”

“...You have to know that winning is impossible in this situation.” Shirou looked away for a moment, grimacing at his own words. It sounded better in his head, but out loud, it just sounded berating more than anything.

It was true, though.

No matter how much force that the enslaved rebels could bring to bear, it doesn’t change the fact that they were in the middle of the capital of the Empire. The only reasons that they were still alive was the sheer amount of panic at the perceived anger of the gods, and the fact that the Imperial legions were out right now. Without the occurrence of two such events, then they would have been quickly put down.

“You’re right about that.” Komakado admitted, “Frankly, I wouldn’t have done it this way either. We were already smuggling out some of the younger kids out by the time that earthquake hit. One thing led to another, and the Yaga went all out. Could’ve let them on their own, but then everyone else started joining them. Fast forward to now, and here I am as the damned de facto leader, and I’m trying to keep things together long enough to at least make a concentrated push to get us all out in one piece.”

The mention of children chilled Shirou to the bone. A hardened scowl on his face, he asked, “How many?” He didn’t need to clarify what he was referring to, as even Komakado had a look of disgust.

“Last I counted, at least two dozen under-21’s from Japan. We’ve managed to get most of them out, and they’re staying with some others outside the capital, but we do know one that was taken by the Emperor’s son. We’ve not heard from her since.”

“And the others?” Shirou pressed firmly. He needed to know.

“...Too many to count.”

Shirou exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled, but his fingers curled into a fist against the table. Too many to count. It was the kind of phrase that hung in the air like the smell of blood, cloying and suffocating.

Komakado watched him carefully, gauging his reaction, “I take it that doesn’t sit well with you.” He said dryly, leaning back in his chair.

“No,” Shirou replied, voice taut as a drawn bowstring. “It doesn’t.”

Komakado snorted, “Yeah, well. Welcome to the fucking club.”

“The Emperor’s son,” He repeated, voice flat, “What do you know about him?”

Shirou knew that the Princess was the odd one out. It wasn't hard to see, when literally every other example, apart from her personally led Order, was as bad as they came. As such, he expected that the Prince would be worse.

He just didn't expect it to be that bad.

Komakado’s expression darkened. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, fingers laced together like he was physically restraining himself from something more violent, “Prince Zorzal. Spoiled, sadistic bastard. Thinks the world and everyone in it belong to him. He’s got a penchant for taking whatever he wants - people included.” His lips curled in something between a sneer and a grimace, “You can guess what that means for a kid he’s dragged into his ‘care.’”

Shirou didn’t need to guess. He knew men like that. He had put them down before. The fact that the man was a Prince may be a bit politically difficult, though.

“Do you have a name?”

"Mochizuki Noriko. Good kid, but she caught that bastard's eye a few days before the earthquake. Couldn’t do anything to help."

“I’ll get her out of there.” The Enforcer promised, breathing in to calm himself down, “Her and anyone else that may be enslaved there. You have my word.”

“Emiya.” And now Komakado sounded just like his age, in the way he was almost chiding, “You’re strong enough to impress Anatoly, sure. But I sincerely doubt you could take on the entire Imperial Royal Guard.”

“I don’t need to.” Here, Shirou stood up, “All we have to do is get them out. Nothing there says we have to fight them to achieve this.”

“Oho? Now you’ve got me interested.”

…

The plan was simple. Anatoly, as the most prominent Yaga on the frontlines, would be brought by Shirou as a ‘prisoner’, having been beaten in combat. He would be brought forth to the Emperor, and the magus would ask that he be spared from execution, on the grounds that doing so would just incite even more rebellions to spring up, as this would turn Anatoly into a martyr.

Indeed, they would think so, as while Shirou was busy doing that, the rebels would start battering the Imperial defenses even more as a distraction.

To put icing onto the cake, Shirou would also be demanding that he be ‘compensated’ as per ‘Celtic’ traditions, banking on the ‘honor’ of the Imperials to uphold his terms.

Komakado was initially leery of having Anatoly brought out like that, but he reasoned that the Yaga was likely strong enough that he could escape even without Shirou’s help, let alone with it.

Overall, it was a simple plan. A plan that had a lot of room to wiggle around in, and a lot that could go wrong. For one, it assumed that the Imperials would accept. And while that would be the smartest move, he also knew that the Empire had more than a few parallels to the Romans, republic and empire alike.

And Rome never surrenders. To do so would be to admit that they were weaker. It would be up to Shirou to convince them that this wasn’t doing so, instead, that he was doing so in order to curry favor with the Empire.

Komakado had his doubts, but in the end, he’d conceded with a shrug, “You’re the one walking into the viper’s nest. If you think you can pull it off, fine. Just don’t get yourself killed before you’re useful.”

Now, the only thing to do was convince Anatoly of the plan.

…

“Alright.”

Surprisingly, it was as easy as telling him the details. They had found the Yaga and the elf quickly enough, having a meal at the nearest open market-style area. There was an eclectic mix of different people sitting around, with an orc cooking over a fire pit. Even through the lens of a different world’s cooking methods, Shirou could see that the orc was an expert at their craft.

Anatoly himself was surrounded by several other Yaga asking him several questions, with Caroline eating quietly into the side. As soon as they were seen, the Yaga leader waved them off, and the elf made her way next to Komakoda’s side. Normally, Shirou would have wanted to discuss things privately, but Komakado had insisted on heading outside. And when the man motioned for him to get on with it, Shirou just shrugged and did so.

He wasn’t expecting the Yaga to accept everything at face value.

“That was fast.” Even Komakado had his eyebrows up, “I’d have thought you wouldn’t have liked that.”

Shirou had to blink as Caroline didn’t translate, then again when Anatoly replied in kind.

“You are correct, my friend.” Anatoly stood up to his full height, “I do not enjoy what you want me to do. However, I have seen first hand the result of relying on nothing but strength of arms, as did the rest of my brothers and sisters. I refuse to become yet another Tsar Ivan.”

“Ivan?” Only one Ivan came to mind, especially when Anatoly had spoken of Moscow earlier, “As in, Ivan the Terrible?”

“Do not call the Tsar by such a title.” Anatoly told him sharply, as some of the other Yaga obviously listening in started, “But yes, Tsar Ivan is who you humans call ‘the Terrible’. To us, however, Tsar Ivan was Russia’s salvation, and ruled for well over four hundred years.”

“Four hundred years?” Shirou’s tone was skeptical, but not dismissive. He was already starting to understand just what was going on here. Anatoly's words only confirmed it.

“Different worlds, different histories.” Anatoly waved his hand, “In our world, we were once more plunged into a second ice age. It was only through the hardiness of the Motherland’s people that we Russians survived. Even then, it was not enough. The Tsar put it upon himself to become the first Yaga, to save our people. It is in doing so that, fear him as we might, we Yaga still hold him in the highest regards.

"However, he was not kind, far from it. Cruelty and ruthlessness were not uncommon. No, they were an everyday occurrence, as much as the snow and cold were. You might ask me, why then, do I not want you to call him by that title. Look around.”

Shirou did so, and to his shock, the Yaga that he had thought were angry at him for calling their Tsar ‘the Terrible’ were now cowering with their hands covering their ears. Some were even visibly shivering.

“Just the mention of it, whispered or not, could put you and everyone who heard it to a quick death, if you were lucky. If you were not, you were to be used as living feedstock for the masses. So no, I refuse to be yet another Tsar Ivan, who uses only his strength to be feared by his own people. If accepting your plan would save them, then I will do so gladly.”

…