Almistyor
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Anomaly Ch. 53
🕑 Added 2025-09-28 12:00:17 +0000 UTCA Chinese dao. A Swiss zweihander. A Sumerian axe. An Aztec macuahuitl. Weapons that he had seen from Gilgamesh’s Gate of Babylon all those years ago. Unlike the many, many treasures inside of that Noble Phantasm, these ones were not. They were plain weapons, the only distinguishing feature of all of them being their incredible quality.
Aside from that, nothing united all of them.
Unless you counted Shirou actively preparing to Trace and shoot them the moment he heard the words from Tyuule’s mouth.
He could practically hear the gears of Unlimited Blade Works grind to a halt, firing up just a moment later as he furiously tried to work out just what she meant. That ‘worm’ could be anyone, anyone at all. But he knew, he knew that it could only be one person.
It had to do with the translation spell still on him. Or rather, the nuances he had started to notice along the numerous conversations he’d had. When one communicates with others, there are subtle things that one does. When it came to Italian, hand gestures were an integral part of the conversation process, for example.
Unfortunately, as he was still affected by the translation spell, the nuances of the language that everyone here used was lost on him. In any other circumstance, had he learned the language naturally, he would have figured it out along the way.
That didn’t mean he didn’t pick things up, though.
He realized back during the Red Dragon incident that the translation often took things quite literally. And so, when Tyuule spoke about a ‘worm’, he realized that she spoke not of a ‘worm of a person’, but a literal worm.
Judging by her face though, the difference between that and a figurative worm was null and void.
That meant that someone knew about him, specifically. Maybe it was someone from the Empire? No, impossible. Tyuule was talking as if she was talking to this ‘worm’. It was already established that the Imperials didn’t care, at all, about their slaves. Talking to one in a manner that was close to a warning was too kind for them, in a sad, inhumane sense.
Therefore, with everything coming together, out of anyone that knew him, only one individual would have had reason and capability of doing this.
Zouken.
“Look at you.” Tyuule scoffed as she glared at Shirou, “I can already tell you’re thinking I’m working with that thing.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Yes.” She stared at him in undisguised disgust, “Seeing as you’re not denying it. Truly, you and that vermin are cut from the same cloth.”
Very rarely did Shirou get angry at any insults at himself. When it came to others, very much so. But towards himself? He’s had to develop a thick skin with all the talking behind his back by the various magi of the Clock Tower.
When Tyuule spoke?
White hot anger spiked, even briefly overcoming the righteous rage that came with Spartacus’s blade.
He didn’t throw the first blade.
He wanted to. The anger came fast and stupid, chewing at the edges of his control the way Spartacus always did when the word “slave” touched the air. Tyuule’s glare poured oil on it. Calling him the same as the thing that crawled into people and made them puppets…his teeth hurt from holding back.
Shirou kept the dao and the axe half-born, clean silhouettes in the back of his mind, and made himself breathe. One, two.
“What did it say to you?” He asked, voice even, “And where?”
Tyuule’s gaze cut to the fire, then past it to the dark, “In the capital. After that show with your Emperor and the idiot prince.” Her mouth morphed into a vicious smirk, "Appreciated, by the way. Even us slaves heard about it."
She continued, “Dead rat spoke to me a few hours before we were ‘reacquired’ by you, disgusting as it was. It introduced itself as Matou Zouken. It offered...freedom.” Her nose wrinkled at the word, “Said all I had to do was deal with a man named 'Emiya Shirou', and gave me a description that matched that Celtic warrior I kept hearing about.”
"And you accepted?" Weapons that were on the verge of Tracing were swapped out with a few Anti-Unit Noble Phantasms. He knew that the temptation for freedom was sometimes all it took to be manipulated. And, on the chance that Zouken had his Crest Worms in Tyuule, he'd take no chances.
The Yellow Rose of Mortality was one such weapon ready to fire.
"What do you take me for?" She glared once more, "Of course not. What good is 'freedom' when all it changed was who the master was? Though, in hindsight, I should have expected that it wouldn't take that lightly."
Red eyes, white hair - a combination that reminded Shirou of Illyasviel von Einzbern. The child that he couldn't save against Gilgamesh. The child who wasn't a child, and who he later found out was Kiritsugu's own daughter.
Before, he hadn't made that connection when looking at Tyuule. Now? Under the moonlight? He could only see Illyasviel from the madness the Warrior Bunny wore.
"Do you know how absolutely vile it felt, when that fucking worm forced itself down my throat?"
The Crimson Rose of Exorcism joined its brother in forming in motes of blue light. Along with them, and as dismaying as he felt about Tracing it, copies of the knives of Jack the Ripper. If Zouken was inside her...
Shirou would have to get him out somehow.
Barking laughter tinged with insanity, “Really! You get pissed when I say you’re cut from the same cloth, but then you go and prove it anyways!” The Noble Phantasms stopped mid-air, just inches from impacting Tyuule.
He froze. The daggers hung there like a bad idea, then winked out as he forced them back.
Tyuule’s mouth curved without warmth, “See? Same cloth.”
“Same enemy.” He shot back. Sharper than he meant. She weighed him, eyes hard. The fire cracked. Someone laughed on the far side of camp.
“What exactly happened?” He asked.
"Like I said, crawled into my throat after I said no. Little bastard didn't expect me to be capable of boiling it with magic from inside out. Killed it before it could do anything other than leave me puking from the taste of it."
She didn't seem to be lying, all things considered. If a worm had settled, something would feel wrong, look wrong. And while he was certain that this could've been a plan that Zouken came up with, the risk of being found out was too high.
“May I check?” He asked.
“If you try what it did, I take your tongue.”
“Fair.” He acquiesced as he extended a hand towards her. Tyuule took it quickly.
He pressed a thin wash of magical energy across her collarbone, down the sternum, careful and quick. He listened for a foreign pulse.
Nothing. Clean.
“You’re clear.”
“Of worms.” She answered, “Not of bad choices. I’m still here asking you.”
He almost smiled, “You’re not wrong.”
She lifted her chin, “Then hear mine. I won’t let that thing touch my people or claim my win. You want the worm. I want the Empire to bleed where it thinks it can’t. Help me hit them smart, and I’ll point you to wherever your vermin hides so you can end it.”
"You know where he is?"
He didn’t lower his guard so much as ease it. The blades faded, the pressure in his skull cooling to a dull, stubborn heat.
“No.” Tyuule said to his question, “I don’t know where it is. But I can make it harder for it to move. I still have people who listen, and are likely capable of fishing it out among a populace."
"Are you certain they can do so?" He frowned. It had taken Zelretch's meddling for him to realize something was wrong with Sakura, despite Shirou spending most of his teenage life in close proximity with her. Was Tyuule confident enough in whoever she trusted to figure that out among an entire city?
"Of course." She lifted an eyebrow at his doubt, "You may not realize it, but Warrior Bunnies are quite capable at poison detection, through magic and otherwise. And from that brief intrusion into my own body, I could tell it read as poison to our detection methods."
Shirou internally chuckled at the image of a magus as proud as that one reacting to being called a poison.
That mirth died as soon as it appeared. The Enforcer cast a monotone glance towards the Warrior Bunny, who now showed more confidence - bordering on arrogance - than she ever had. Not to say she lacked any of it before, but it was more of a quiet assurance earlier.
Now? She was practically screaming in his face about her confidence.
It didn't make sense.
It didn't make sense since, if she was as confident as she portrayed, then Shirou wouldn't have been informed of anything. Tyuule and her cohort could have left in the night and Shirou would've let things be. He certainly wouldn't have stopped her,
Honestly, the more she spoke, the more it seemed like she was bragging. Sort of like those magi from the Clock Tower who'd managed to achieve some level of success with an experiment or two.
So why? Why Shirou?
Tyuule must have read it on his face, even as she spoke once more, amusement and bitterness tinging her tone, "You seem to have some influence for that little coalition you have. You and that other human."
"You can say as such."
"Stop being coy. You hold enough influence to at least be of use to me, much as me and my own can be of use to you. And besides, we have common enemies, don't we?"
"Enemies?"
“You can’t say that that damnable prince is not going to retaliate.” An ugly snarl on her face, “The moment we step near Italica, you and I know that there will be some sort of disturbance. Maybe even a bunch of ‘bandits’ looking for easy marks.” The implication was not lost on either of them, and she was right.
Zorzal didn’t come off as a man that would let things go. He would certainly try to ‘reclaim’ his lost possessions, even if that meant going against the orders of the Emperor. Spoiled brats that were never said no to usually acted rashly when they were.
“And while you could fight them off, there are too many people here that losing a few of them would be the likely scenario if it happens.”
Unfortunately, that was the reality of things. While they managed to get everyone out, most of the people here weren’t fighters. They were regular people that had just recently been liberated, and were still suffering the effects of malnourishment and untreated wounds. That’s why they were rushing in the first place, as slow as their pace may be.
They needed the safety of Italica, the guarantee that they’ll be taken care of behind some walls.
If a ‘bandit’ group - more likely professional mercenaries under the employ of the prince - were to attack, they would be going after the most vulnerable people out there. It’s very much possible that they had already blended into the crowd, and were just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. If that were to happen, people would be lost en masse before Shirou and the others could react.
However, the same could be said for Tyuule and the other Warrior Bunnies.
They were strong - they were called Warrior Bunnies for a reason - but even they would fail if the enemy had enough numbers. What they wanted, then, was easy to deduce.
“You want protection against Zorzal should he strike against you.”
“Less protection and more the assistance of your little group in fighting his forces. I have good information that he will be attempting a coup sooner rather than later, and once he has power, it would be easy for him to throw as many men as possible towards his supposed problems.”
“What guarantee do you have that your information is even correct?” Shirou’s eyes narrowed as he took in her countenance once more.
“You have the guarantee of my name as Queen of the Warrior Bunnies.”
Ah.
Shirou could feel a headache forming as he got caught up in another bit of royalty.
…
A/N: So, I've been thinking about the schedule again, and I've decided that I'm going to be moving over to a bi-monthly update schedule, starting on the next update cycle. In other words, after next week's Living Life chapter, I will be updating every other week instead.
This is partially due to the fact that, like I've said before, I've been struggling with job hunting, and I've been focusing a bit more on it right now. Side note: an update on the interviews: I had them, but so far, none have gotten back to me. I'm still waiting on a bit more on that end.
As always, thank you all for your support.
