The First Scale Awakens: When Ancient Meets Legend
The air in Chaldea's summoning chamber crackled with an energy unlike any they had experienced before. Blue-white mana swirled in patterns that defied the usual geometric precision, forming shapes reminiscent of cosmic nebulae and ancient constellations.
"Something's different," Mash whispered, gripping her shield tighter as the Saint Quartz in Ritsuka's hand pulsed with an otherworldly rhythm. "These readings are beyond anything we've recorded in previous summonings."
Ritsuka nodded, feeling the weight of each heartbeat as the quartz grew warmer against their palm. "Da Vinci, are you seeing this?"
The genius inventor's voice came through the communication system, her usual playfulness replaced by scientific fascination. "Whatever you're about to summon is causing quantum fluctuations throughout Chaldea's entire magical framework. The Dragon Reactors are particularly affected—their output has increased by 300% and rising."
Before anyone could suggest halting the process, the summoning circle flared with light that wasn't merely bright—it was primordial, containing colors that human eyes had never been designed to process. The room's dimensions seemed to stretch and contract simultaneously, as if reality itself was making space for what was attempting to manifest.
"Master!" Mash called out in alarm as hairline fractures appeared in her shield—something that had withstood the attacks of gods and beasts without scratching.
For one breathless moment, all sound ceased. Even the constant hum of Chaldea's systems fell silent.
Then, a voice that resonated not just in their ears but in the marrow of their bones and the spaces between their thoughts:
"I answer the call that echoes across the tapestry of existence. Though perhaps... you know not what threshold you have crossed."
The summoning circle expanded beyond its physical boundaries, the runes and sigils rearranging themselves into patterns older than written language. Reality buckled, space folded, and within the eye of this metaphysical storm materialized a figure that seemed simultaneously too vast to comprehend and deceptively contained.
Aurath'Zar, The Breath Before Creation, had answered Chaldea's call.
His humanoid form stood tall and regal—scales of deepest midnight blue shifting to cosmic purple when he moved, creating the impression of galaxies swirling beneath his skin. His eyes contained swirling nebulae, and a crown of crystalline horns framed a face of terrible, perfect symmetry. Though he appeared roughly human-sized, something about his presence made the chamber feel as though it housed a being large enough to coil around planets.
"I have... constrained my essence," he spoke, each word causing the lights to flicker and the walls to vibrate with subtle harmonics. "Your reality could not withstand the fullness of my nature."
Ritsuka opened their mouth to respond but was interrupted by a facility-wide alarm that began blaring throughout Chaldea.
In the command center, Da Vinci and Holmes watched with growing concern as the monitoring systems displayed unprecedented activity throughout the complex.
"What in the world is happening?" Da Vinci muttered, her fingers flying across multiple control panels. "Every Servant with even a trace of draconic essence is exhibiting strange behavior."
Holmes' eyes narrowed as he studied the security feeds. "Look at their movements. They're all converging on the summoning chamber. And their vital signs..." He pointed to a series of readings that showed elevated magical signatures. "It's as if something has activated a dormant aspect of their Saint Graphs."
On the monitors, they could see them all responding to some unheard call: Artoria Pendragon had stopped mid-training session, her sword clattering to the ground as she stood frozen for a moment before moving with purpose toward the summoning chamber. Elsewhere, Kiyohime abandoned her obsessive watch outside Ritsuka's quarters, her expression shifting from lovesick to something ancient and reverent. Elizabeth Báthory stopped her vocal practice mid-note, her usually boisterous demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic solemnity.
"Even the containment systems for Tiamat's essence are showing anomalous readings," Da Vinci said, pointing to another monitor where energy levels were spiking dangerously.
Holmes' expression turned grave. "Whatever has been summoned isn't merely powerful—it's conceptual. Its very existence is triggering primal recognition patterns in anything with draconic heritage."
"Should we initiate emergency protocols?" one of the staff members asked nervously.
Holmes shook his head. "No. I believe we're witnessing something unprecedented but not necessarily hostile. For now, we observe."
The door to the summoning chamber slid open with a pneumatic hiss. Artoria Pendragon stood in the threshold, her normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed recognition. Without a word or gesture of greeting to Ritsuka or Mash, she stepped into the chamber and sank to one knee, head bowed deeply.
"First Scale," she whispered, the words emerging as if drawn from some ancestral memory beyond her own consciousness. "Throne of Flame That Sleeps Between Time."
One by one, they arrived: Alter versions of Artoria followed, each displaying the same instinctual reverence despite their typically rebellious natures. Ibuki-Douji entered with her massive serpentine form somehow fitting through the doorway, her usually fierce demeanor subdued as she coiled herself into a position of deference. Elizabeth Báthory and Kiyohime arrived simultaneously, their rivalry forgotten as they knelt side by side.
The dragon girls of Chaldea continued to gather—Yu Mei-ren fighting against the pull but ultimately succumbing to the ancient recognition in her blood; Vritra entering with regal dignity yet unable to maintain eye contact with the new arrival; even the mighty Red Hare, whose equine form carried traces of dragon lineage, pawed nervously at the ground before lowering his head in submission.
Most dramatic was the arrival of Super Oryo, who floated into the chamber with none of her usual playfulness, her serpentine body arranged in formal coils that spoke of ritual deference.
"What's happening to them?" Mash whispered, alarmed by the behavior of these normally independent and powerful Servants.
Before Ritsuka could respond, the security barriers in a far corner of the room began to waver, and through them emerged a partial manifestation of Tiamat—not in her full Beast form, but as a consciousness projected through the magical barriers of Chaldea. The Primordial Mother, who acknowledged no authority but her own chaotic nature, moved with hesitation that bordered on fear. Her multiple eyes blinked in disbelief as she beheld Aurath'Zar, and she prostrated herself completely—a sight no one in Chaldea had ever witnessed.
Through it all, Aurath'Zar stood motionless, regarding the assembled draconic beings with an expression of ancient recognition tinged with something almost like nostalgia.
"My children," he finally said, his voice gentler now but no less profound. "How strange to see the echoes of my breath scattered across the tapestry of realities, gathered here in one place and time."
"We are not worthy, Progenitor," Artoria spoke, her voice trembling slightly—an unprecedented display from the normally stoic King of Knights. "The blood you breathed into existence courses through our veins, diluted by time and human legend, but never extinguished."
Aurath'Zar moved forward, each step causing subtle ripples in the air around him. He stopped before Artoria and placed a hand upon her head—a gesture that caused even Alter to shudder visibly.
"Rise, daughter of my essence," he commanded softly. "All of you—rise. The time for prostration is long past. You have each walked your own paths, forged your own legends. This pleases me."
Slowly, uncertainly, the dragon-blooded Servants rose to their feet, though none dared meet his gaze directly.
The moment was interrupted when the door slid open once more to reveal a very confused Draco, the Roman dragon-girl looking around at the assembled Servants with bewilderment.
"Hey, what's with the emergency gathering? Did something happen to—" She stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Aurath'Zar, but unlike the others, her expression showed curiosity rather than reverence. "Whoa, new Servant? He looks fancy. What's with the galaxy-eyes?"
An odd silence fell over the room as every draconic Servant turned to stare at Draco with expressions ranging from shock to horror at her casual tone.
Aurath'Zar himself seemed momentarily taken aback—perhaps the first time in countless eons that something had surprised him. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he laughed. The sound was like distant thunder rolling across primordial skies, causing the very foundations of Chaldea to vibrate in harmonic response.
"Fascinating," he said, studying Draco with genuine interest. "Your essence is draconic, yet... conceptual rather than lineage-based. The idea of a dragon translated through human constellation myths, given form through the Throne of Heroes. You bear no memory of the First Scale because your origin bypassed my awakening entirely."
Draco crossed her arms defensively, still unaffected by the aura that had brought gods to their knees. "Does that make me less of a dragon than them?"
"Not less," Aurath'Zar corrected gently. "Different. A branch that grew from the idea of the tree rather than its roots. There is value in that perspective."
His gaze swept across the assembled draconic Servants. "Each of you carries fragments of what I am, expressed through the lenses of your individual existences. Some through blood—" he nodded to Artoria, "—some through divine inheritance—" his gaze passed over Ibuki-Douji and Vritra, "—some through the transformative nature of legend itself." He gestured to Elizabeth and Kiyohime.
"Even you," he said, turning to Tiamat's manifestation, "Mother of Life, carry echoes of my first exhalation in how you shaped your children of the sea. Though our domains diverged in the first moments of creation, the pattern-memory remains."
Tiamat's many eyes blinked in acknowledgment, her usual chaotic nature subdued in his presence.
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of Da Vinci and Holmes, who had apparently decided that observation from afar was insufficient.
"Fascinating," Da Vinci breathed, her analytical mind already cataloging every detail of the new Servant. "Your manifestation has altered the very thaumaturgical constants within Chaldea. The mana density around you is off the charts, yet somehow stable."
Holmes approached more cautiously, his keen eyes taking in not just Aurath'Zar but the unprecedented behavior of the draconic Servants. "You appear to have triggered some form of instinctual recognition response in our draconic allies. A biological imperative perhaps? Or something more fundamental to their spiritual core?"
"Both and neither," Aurath'Zar replied. "What you perceive as draconic 'blood' or 'essence' is, in truth, the memory of my first breath—the exhalation that gave form to the concept of 'dragon' across all realities. They recognize me because, in the most primal sense, they are of me."
Artoria finally found the courage to speak again, though her voice remained uncharacteristically deferential. "Lord Aurath'Zar, forgive my presumption, but... why have you answered Chaldea's summons? One such as you exists beyond the concept of Heroic Spirits."
"A valid question, King of Knights," Aurath'Zar acknowledged. "I exist outside your Throne of Heroes, yes. But I perceived a convergence—a nexus point forming around this place you call Chaldea. The gathering of so many of my children in one location across multiple timelines... such a thing has not occurred since before the concept of 'time' solidified."
He turned to Ritsuka, finally addressing the Master directly. "Your summons provided a pathway, but it was the looming crisis that drew my attention. Reality itself frays at its edges, Master of Chaldea. The barriers between what is and what cannot be grow thin."
"You're referring to the Lostbelts," Holmes surmised.
"Those are merely symptoms," Aurath'Zar said with a dismissive wave. "Manifestations of a deeper disturbance in the conceptual framework that underlies all existence. There is a hunger awakening between the spaces of reality—a void that seeks to unmake the very concept of creation itself."
His expression grew grave, causing several of the dragon Servants to step back instinctively. "And it hungers especially for those who carry my essence. Dragons represent the primal fire of creation—the first defiance against entropy. Our extinction would herald the beginning of reality's unraveling."
Elizabeth, who had been uncharacteristically silent until now, suddenly spoke up. "Wait, so there's something out there hunting dragons specifically? Like, all of us?" Her usual brash confidence was tempered with genuine concern.
"It hunts what we represent," Aurath'Zar clarified. "The spark that keeps creation burning. And this place—" he gestured to encompass all of Chaldea, "—has become a beacon, gathering so many variants of draconic essence in one nexus point."
"So we've basically painted a target on ourselves," Mordred interjected, having arrived late and with less obvious reverence than the others, though she still kept a respectful distance from Aurath'Zar.
"Precisely, child of Pendragon," the ancient dragon confirmed. "Though the target existed before my arrival. I have merely answered the unspoken call of my scattered children, gathering where the danger converges."
Ritsuka stepped forward then, displaying the courage that had earned them the loyalty of countless Servants. "Then we face this threat together, as we have faced all others. Chaldea stands against any force that threatens humanity or reality itself."
Aurath'Zar regarded the human Master with newfound interest. "You speak with conviction beyond your mortal frame, little one. Perhaps that is why so many of my children have answered your call over time." He inclined his head slightly—a gesture that caused several of the dragon Servants to gasp at the unprecedented show of respect from the First Scale.
"I offer you my contract, Master of Chaldea," Aurath'Zar continued. "Though be warned—to direct one such as me requires will that transcends your physical limitations. The mere act of channeling my power may consume you."
"I accept the risk," Ritsuka replied without hesitation. "And I welcome your strength to our cause."
As the pact was sealed with a flash of cosmic energy, the assembled dragon Servants felt something shift in their own connections to Ritsuka—as if a new circuit had been completed, enhancing the flow of mana between them.
"So what now?" Super Oryo asked, finally recovering some of her usual directness. "We just wait for this... void thing to attack us?"
"No," Aurath'Zar replied, turning to face the assembled draconic Servants. "Now we prepare. Each of you carries a fragment of my original power, expressed through your individual natures. Together, properly aligned, you represent a force that even the void must reckon with."
"Aligned?" Kiyohime questioned, glancing uncertainly at Elizabeth and Mordred—Servants with whom she had frequently clashed. "You mean... working together?"
"More than mere cooperation," Aurath'Zar explained. "A harmonic convergence of your draconic essences. But first..." His gaze swept across them all, seeing beyond their physical forms to the core of their spiritual manifestations. "First, we must address the disharmony within each of you. The places where your draconic nature conflicts with your human aspects or has been distorted by legend."
"I don't like the sound of that," Mordred muttered, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her sword.
"Fear not, rebellious child," Aurath'Zar said with what might have been amusement. "I do not seek to change who you have become—merely to awaken what has always slumbered within you."
He turned to Artoria first. "King of Knights, you have long suppressed your draconic heart, viewing it as separate from your human ideals. This division weakens both aspects of your being."
Artoria's eyes widened slightly. "My dragon core has always been a source of power, but..."
"But you have treated it as a tool rather than an integral part of your existence," Aurath'Zar finished for her. "The dragon is not merely the source of your mana—it is woven into the very concept of 'Artoria Pendragon.' To deny this is to fragment yourself."
He moved to Ibuki-Douji next. "Storm Child, you embrace your serpentine nature but resist the deeper draconic truths that preceded even your divine birth. There is power in acknowledging the primordial scale that came before the first god."
One by one, he addressed each dragon-blooded Servant, identifying the specific ways in which they had become disconnected from their true draconic essence. For Elizabeth, it was her fixation on human fame that distracted from her inherent nature; for Kiyohime, her obsession with human love had twisted her draconic passion into something possessive rather than transcendent.
When he came to Tiamat, their exchange was wordless—a communication beyond language that left the Primordial Mother's manifestation trembling with what appeared to be a mixture of awe and ancient recognition.
"In the days to come," Aurath'Zar finally announced to them all, "I will work with each of you to reharmonize your draconic essence. This is not about making you more powerful in the conventional sense—it is about making you more whole, more aligned with the truth of your existence."
"And what about me?" Draco asked, stepping forward boldly where the others still maintained a reverent distance. "You said I'm different from them. Does that mean I don't get dragon lessons?"
Again, that rumbling laugh that made the walls vibrate. "Spirited one, your path is perhaps the most interesting of all. Having never known the direct lineage, you are free to discover it without preconception. You shall join us, and perhaps learn what it truly means to be draconic, beyond human myth and constellation dreams."
Da Vinci, who had been furiously taking notes throughout this exchange, finally spoke up. "This harmonization process—will it affect their Saint Graphs? Alter their capabilities or Noble Phantasms?"
"It will not change what they are," Aurath'Zar assured her. "Merely reveal what has always been present but dormant. Think of it as... restoring a painting to its original vibrancy, rather than creating a new image entirely."
Holmes stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And this process will prepare them—prepare us all—for the coming conflict with this 'void' entity?"
"It is the first step," Aurath'Zar confirmed. "The void seeks to unmake creation by targeting its most primordial expressions first—dragons, who were born of the first creative breath. By strengthening the connection to that original essence, we create a network of power too fundamental for even the void to easily unravel."
He turned back to Ritsuka. "But be warned, Master of Chaldea. The process of awakening will not be without challenge. As their true draconic natures stir from slumber, these Servants may experience... unpredictable effects. Emotional turbulence. Surges of primal instinct. Memories that were never truly their own."
"We'll handle it," Ritsuka said with the quiet confidence that had guided them through multiple singularities and Lostbelts. "They're not just Servants—they're our companions. Our friends."
Aurath'Zar studied the human Master with those cosmic eyes. "Friendship... a concept younger than stars yet somehow more enduring. Perhaps that is why this place has drawn so many of my children across time and space. You offer them something even I cannot—connection beyond instinctual reverence."
He looked around at the assembled dragon Servants, now beginning to recover from their initial shock and awe. "We begin at dawn. For now, I must acclimate to this condensed form and to the constraints of your reality."
As the gathering slowly dispersed, the dragon Servants leaving with backward glances of continued reverence, Mash approached Aurath'Zar cautiously.
"Um, Lord Aurath'Zar? We should probably assign you quarters within Chaldea. Though I'm not sure our standard accommodations will be... sufficient."
The ancient dragon regarded her with gentle amusement. "Little shield-bearer, I have slumbered in the spaces between dimensions. Any room you provide will be more than adequate."
And so began a new chapter in Chaldea's ongoing battle for humanity's survival—one that would test not just their strength and strategy, but their understanding of the very foundations of existence itself. At its center stood The First Scale, the Breath Before Creation, ready to remind both his draconic children and the encroaching void why all things with wings and fire bowed to his name.
The Awakening Begins
Morning in Chaldea arrived with an unusual atmospheric phenomenon—the internal environmental systems produced a sunrise effect more vivid than their standard programming, with colors that shifted through spectrums not typically seen in nature. Those sensitive to magical energies reported a dense, rhythmic pulsing throughout the facility, like a massive heartbeat resonating through the walls themselves.
Aurath'Zar had chosen not the quarters assigned to him but rather the expansive observation deck that looked out over the Antarctic wasteland surrounding Chaldea. When Ritsuka arrived to check on their newest Servant, they found him standing motionless, his form seeming to blur at the edges as if not entirely committed to physical manifestation.
"Your world is young," the ancient dragon said without turning, somehow aware of Ritsuka's presence. "But resilient in its youth. I can feel the determination of its conceptual framework—the stubborn insistence on continuing despite all that has threatened it."
"Earth has been through a lot," Ritsuka agreed, moving to stand beside the primordial being. "And humanity along with it."
"Humanity," Aurath'Zar repeated the word as if tasting its meaning. "Such brief flames, yet you burn with such intensity. It is no wonder that dragons have been drawn to your kind across eons—opposites in lifespan, yet kindred in passion."
He turned then, his cosmic eyes focusing on Ritsuka with uncomfortable intensity. "The dragon Servants have gathered in the largest training chamber, as instructed. Their anticipation hums through the magical currents of this place—fear mingled with reverence and hope."
"Are you sure this process is safe?" Ritsuka asked, their protective instinct toward their Servants evident in their tone.
A sound like distant thunder rumbled in Aurath'Zar's chest—his version of a contemplative hum. "Safe? No. Necessary? Absolutely. To reawaken what has slumbered since before their legends were written... there will be turbulence. But I will guide them through it as gently as possible."
Together they walked to the training chamber, passing curious staff members and Servants who sensed the unusual magical density surrounding the ancient dragon. Word had spread quickly throughout Chaldea about the new arrival, and the corridors were unusually busy with those hoping to catch a glimpse of the being that had caused such a profound reaction among the draconic Servants.
When they arrived, they found the chamber had been transformed. The usual training equipment had been cleared away, replaced by a circular arrangement of what appeared to be scales—massive, crystalline structures that caught the light and refracted it in impossible patterns. The dragon Servants were already present, arranged in a loose semicircle, their usual camaraderie or rivalries temporarily set aside in the presence of their progenitor.
"You have come," Aurath'Zar acknowledged them. "Good. What we begin today is not merely training—it is remembrance. A reconnection to truths your spirits have always known but your conscious minds have forgotten."
He moved to the center of the circle, and as he did, the crystalline scales began to resonate with a harmonic tone that seemed to bypass the ears and vibrate directly in the mind.
"First," he announced, "we must establish the proper hierarchy of draconic energies. Much of your disharmony comes from conflicting draconic signatures attempting to coexist without proper alignment."
He gestured, and lines of glowing energy became visible between the dragon Servants—a complex web of connections, some bright and strong, others dim or discordant.
"The human concepts of 'rank' or 'power level' are irrelevant here," he continued. "What matters is harmonic position—how your specific draconic frequency complements the whole."
Artoria, who had arrived in her base form but with all her Alter versions also present, stepped forward hesitantly. "Lord Progenitor, how can those of us with multiple manifestations properly align? We are the same spirit expressed through different aspects."
"An excellent question, King of Knights," Aurath'Zar replied. "Your multiple expressions represent different facets of the same draconic core—like a gemstone viewed from different angles. For today's purpose, each manifestation must be treated as distinct, but ultimately, they all draw from the same primordial connection."
He approached Artoria, placing a clawed hand gently above her heart. "Close your eyes. Feel the dragon core that pulses within you—not as a source of power, but as the oldest part of your being. Before knighthood, before kingship, before even humanity... there was this."
Artoria's eyes drifted shut, and a visible shudder ran through her. The air around her began to shimmer with heat as her magical circuits flared with sudden intensity.
"Yes," Aurath'Zar encouraged. "That sensation of ancient recognition—follow it deeper. Past the layers of human legend and heroic duty."
To the amazement of everyone present, a translucent image began to form around Artoria—the ghostly outline of a massive dragon, coiled protectively around her human form. Unlike the dragons she had faced in her legends, this apparition had a regal bearing that mirrored her own dignity.
"This is your true resonance," Aurath'Zar explained, not just to her but to all present. "The draconic aspect that has always existed alongside your human consciousness, neither dominant nor subservient, but complementary."
Artoria's eyes opened, now glowing with the same intensity as her magical circuits. "I... I can feel it. Not as something separate from me, but as... another dimension of myself." Her voice had taken on a subtle harmonic quality, as if two voices—human and dragon—spoke in perfect unison.
"Exactly," Aurath'Zar said with approval. "Now, maintain that awareness as I work with the others. Each of you will find your place in the harmonic arrangement."
One by one, he guided each draconic Servant through a similar process—though the manifestations varied dramatically. Kiyohime's dragon aspect emerged as a sinuous Eastern dragon of azure flame, while Elizabeth's appeared as a winged serpent with sound-wave patterns rippling along its scales.
The process was not without difficulty. Mordred initially rejected the emerging draconic resonance, her complicated feelings toward her heritage causing dissonance that manifested as painful magical feedback until Aurath'Zar helped her separate her feelings about Artoria from her own innate draconic nature.
Super Oryo's awakening was particularly spectacular, her already serpentine form temporarily growing to such proportions that she nearly filled the chamber, forcing a pause in the proceedings until Aurath'Zar helped her contain the expansion.
When he came to Draco, the pattern changed. Instead of drawing out an existing connection, he seemed to be establishing one for the first time.
"Your case is unique," he told her. "Born of stars rather than my direct lineage. Yet the concept of 'dragon' transcends origin. Open yourself to the possibility that what humans saw in the stars was not imagination, but recognition of a pattern fundamental to reality itself."
Draco's transformation was subtle at first—a shimmer of starlight across her skin that gradually coalesced into spectral scales. Unlike the others, her draconic aspect appeared incomplete, more suggestion than form, but Aurath'Zar seemed pleased nonetheless.
"A beginning," he said. "The constellation awakens to its deeper meaning."
Throughout the process, Ritsuka felt strange resonances through their command seals—pulses of energy that corresponded to each Servant's awakening. The magical circuits within their own body responded in kind, as if the Master-Servant bonds were being recalibrated to accommodate these newly awakened aspects.
The most dramatic moment came when Aurath'Zar finally approached Tiamat's partial manifestation. The two primordial beings regarded each other in silence, communication passing between them on levels beyond verbal expression. Then, with a gesture that seemed more ritual than instruction, Aurath'Zar traced a complex pattern in the air before her.
The result was immediate and alarming—Tiamat's form began to shift, expanding beyond the constraints of her partial manifestation. Warning alarms blared as the containment systems registered dangerous spikes in energy.
"Lord Aurath'Zar!" Da Vinci's voice came urgently through the communication system. "The Tiamat containment protocols are approaching critical failure!"
"Fear not," the ancient dragon replied calmly. "What you perceive as destabilization is actually realignment. The Mother of Life is not breaking your containment—she is harmonizing with it."
Indeed, after moments of apparent crisis, Tiamat's expanding form began to contract again, but now with a subtle difference. Her chaotic energy patterns had reorganized into something more structured—still immensely powerful but no longer straining against the containment field as if it were an enemy. Instead, she seemed to have reached an accommodation with it, her essence flowing within the boundaries like water finding its natural course.
When all the draconic Servants had undergone this initial awakening, Aurath'Zar returned to the center of the chamber. With a gesture, he caused the lines of energy connecting them to pulse in sequence, creating a harmonic pattern that resonated through Chaldea's very foundations.
"This is but the first step," he told them. "You have remembered what it means to be of draconic essence. Now you must learn to exist in harmony with each other—not suppressing your differences, but allowing them to strengthen the whole."
He turned to Ritsuka. "Your command seals will need recalibration to properly channel their awakened energies. This too will require time and practice."
As if to demonstrate the necessity of this warning, Artoria suddenly staggered, the translucent dragon surrounding her flaring with unexpected intensity. "It's... overwhelming," she gasped, her voice still carrying that dual harmonic quality. "The memories... they aren't mine, and yet..."
"They are the memories of your draconic aspect," Aurath'Zar explained gently. "Fragments of awareness from before your human birth. Do not fight them—let them flow through you without attaching to them."
Similar disorientation affected the others to varying degrees. Kiyohime seemed lost in a trance, murmuring in an ancient language that pre-dated her historical era. Elizabeth was producing unconscious harmonic notes that caused the air around her to vibrate visibly. Mordred paced like a caged predator, her armor occasionally shifting as if struggling to contain an altered form.
"They need time to integrate these awakened aspects," Aurath'Zar told Ritsuka. "The process cannot be rushed."
"We should probably end today's session," Ritsuka suggested, concerned by the visible strain on their Servants.
Aurath'Zar nodded in agreement. "Yes. Let them rest and acclimate. But be vigilant, Master of Chaldea. Tonight, their dreams will walk in ancient skies. Some may require... guidance to find their way back."
As predicted, the night brought challenges. Monitoring systems reported unusual energy signatures from the quarters of every draconic Servant. Staff members passing by Kiyohime's room reported hearing something large moving within, while the temperature in the corridor outside rose to uncomfortable levels. Elizabeth's voice carried through the ventilation system, singing in a language that caused listeners to experience vivid visions of primordial landscapes.
Most concerning was the situation with the Artoria variants. Around midnight, security systems detected all of them—Original, Alter, Lancer, and others—converging on the observation deck where Aurath'Zar had spent the morning. Surveillance footage showed them moving in perfect synchronization, their eyes glowing with internal light.
When Ritsuka and Mash hurried to investigate, they found a scene both beautiful and unsettling. The Artoria variants stood in a perfect circle, the translucent dragons of their awakened aspects now fully manifested and intertwining above them like a complex, living knot. In the center stood Aurath'Zar, his form significantly less humanoid than before, scales shifting with cosmic light as he guided their unconscious integration.
"Do not disturb them," he said without turning as Ritsuka and Mash approached. "This is a necessary reconciliation. All the variants of the Dragon King must find harmony with each other before they can fully harmonize with the others."
"Are they in danger?" Mash asked worriedly.
"Not of body," Aurath'Zar replied. "But identity is more fluid in this state. They must each maintain their individual essence while acknowledging their shared origin. A delicate balance."
Throughout the night, similar scenes played out across Chaldea as the dragon Servants instinctively sought the spaces and configurations needed for their integration process. By morning, staff reported sightings of spectral dragon forms throughout the facility—translucent manifestations that seemed to phase through walls and occasionally interact with the physical environment in unpredictable ways.
At dawn, they gathered again in the training chamber, each bearing subtle changes from their experience. Artoria's usually perfect posture now included a quality of coiled readiness that hadn't been present before. Kiyohime moved with serpentine grace that made her previous movements seem stiff by comparison. Even Elizabeth's voice had changed, gaining harmonics that seemed impossible for human vocal cords to produce.
"You have survived the first night of remembrance," Aurath'Zar acknowledged as they assembled before him. "The integration has begun, though not without cost. I sense the strain in your spiritual cores."
Indeed, many of the dragon Servants looked exhausted. Mordred leaned against a wall, her usually fierce demeanor subdued. The Artoria variants stood closer together than they normally would, as if drawing comfort from proximity. Only Draco seemed relatively unaffected, her starlight scales still more suggestion than substance.
"Last night was crazy," she commented, examining her own arms with fascination. "I had dreams of flying through constellations, but they weren't just stars—they were like... waypoints in some cosmic map."
"The Dragon Road," Aurath'Zar explained. "The pathways between realities that existed before the concept of space solidified. What humans later perceived as constellation patterns were echoes of these primordial routes."
"So dragons were space travelers?" Draco asked, her eyes widening.
"We existed before the distinction between 'space' and 'not space,'" Aurath'Zar corrected gently. "Before dimensions were counted and catalogued. Movement and existence were... more fluid concepts."
Kiyohime stepped forward, her movements unnervingly smooth. "Lord Progenitor, I experienced memories of flame that did not burn but transformed. Is this the Breathless Flame you command?"
"A distant echo of it," Aurath'Zar confirmed. "The flames you command as a Servant are interpretations of that original concept—the fire that reshapes reality rather than merely consuming material."
Elizabeth raised her hand hesitantly. "Um, my voice feels different. Like I could sing notes that would make things... happen." She seemed both excited and frightened by the possibility.
"The draconic roar was the first music," Aurath'Zar told her. "Before instruments, before language—the harmonic vibrations that helped shape formless chaos into patterned existence. Your connection to sound is not coincidental, young one."
Ritsuka, who had been observing these exchanges with growing concern, finally spoke up. "These changes seem to be affecting their core abilities. Will this alter how their Noble Phantasms function?"
Aurath'Zar turned his cosmic gaze to the Master. "Their Noble Phantasms are expressions of their legends—stories told by humans about their deeds. But beneath those stories lie older truths. As they harmonize these aspects, yes, their expressions of power may evolve."
"That could complicate our established combat strategies," Da Vinci noted, having joined them to monitor the proceedings. "We rely on predictable Noble Phantasm parameters."
"Adaptation is the essence of survival," Aurath'Zar replied simply. "And necessity drives evolution. Today, we take the next step—from individual awakening to collective harmony."
He gestured, and the crystalline scales arranged around the room began to pulse with rhythmic light. "Form a circle, children of my breath. Today we learn to resonate not just with our own draconic aspects, but with each other's."
As the dragon Servants arranged themselves, Super Oryo floated forward with uncharacteristic hesitation. "Last night, I remembered something about... a hunger. Something ancient that feeds on dragons. Is that what we're preparing to fight?"
A shadow passed across Aurath'Zar's features—perhaps the first display of genuine concern they had witnessed from him. "Yes. The Void Between Breaths—that which existed in the pauses between my exhalations during creation. It has always resented what dragons represent: the defiance of nothingness, the persistence of pattern and flame."
"So it's like... anti-dragon?" Mordred asked, having pushed herself away from the wall to join the circle.
"It is anti-existence," Aurath'Zar corrected. "But dragons, being among the first and most fundamental expressions of existence, are particularly anathema to it—and therefore its primary targets."
His expression grew more solemn. "When it comes—and it will come, drawn by your collective draconic resonance—it will attempt to unmake you first. Not merely to destroy your physical forms or spiritual cores, but to erase the very concept of your existence from the tapestry of reality."
A nervous murmur ran through the assembled Servants.
"Is that even possible?" Artoria asked, her royal composure briefly shaken.
"For most beings, no," Aurath'Zar said. "Their existence is too deeply woven into the fabric of reality to be completely unmade. But dragons exist partially outside conventional reality—it is what gives us our power, but also what makes us vulnerable to forces that operate on conceptual levels."
"Well, that's terrifying," Draco muttered, her previous enthusiasm dampened.
"Fear is appropriate," Aurath'Zar acknowledged. "But not paralysis. Together, properly aligned, your collective draconic resonance creates a harmonious pattern too complex for even the Void to easily unravel."
He moved to the center of their circle. "Now, each of you, manifest your draconic aspect as you did yesterday. But this time, extend your awareness to those beside you. Feel how your resonance interacts with theirs."
One by one, the translucent dragon forms began to appear around their Servants, more substantial than the previous day. As instructed, they cautiously extended their awareness toward each other, resulting in visible connections forming between their manifestations—threads of magical energy that pulsed with complex patterns.
"Good," Aurath'Zar encouraged. "Now, I will guide these connections into proper harmonic arrangement."
What followed was like watching a conductor lead an impossibly complex orchestra. With subtle gestures, Aurath'Zar adjusted the flow and intensity of the connections between the dragon Servants. Where dissonance occurred—particularly between Servants with historical animosity like Mordred and Artoria—he would intervene with precise adjustments that somehow bypassed their personal feelings to align their draconic essences directly.
The process was clearly taxing. Several times, Servants dropped to their knees as the intensity of the connection overwhelmed them. Kiyohime briefly lost control, her draconic aspect flaring with blue flame that threatened to materialize fully until Aurath'Zar calmed it with a harmonic note that seemed to bypass sound entirely and resonate directly with her essence.
Most dramatic was the moment when all the Artoria variants suddenly synchronized—their separate draconic aspects merging into a single, massive dragon manifestation that hovered above them, connected to each by threads of golden light. The sight was so awe-inspiring that even the staff members observing from the sidelines found themselves kneeling instinctively.
"Yes," Aurath'Zar breathed, genuine pleasure in his voice. "The Dragon King remembers herself. All aspects, all variations—one source."
Through it all, Ritsuka felt strange sensations through their command seals—pulses of energy, moments of heat or cold, occasionally patterns that resembled musical notes felt rather than heard. The Master-Servant bonds were clearly being affected by this process, reconfiguring to accommodate these newly awakened aspects.
After what seemed like hours, Aurath'Zar finally called a halt to the exercise. The dragon Servants collapsed in various states of exhaustion, their spectral manifestations fading but not completely disappearing—now each had a subtle aura that suggested the dragon just beneath the surface of perception.
"You have done well," Aurath'Zar told them. "The harmonic pattern has begun to establish itself. It will strengthen with practice."
"I felt... connected to everyone," Elizabeth said wonderingly. "Even people I don't usually get along with." She glanced at Nero, another dragon-blooded Servant who had historically been her rival.
"The draconic essence transcends your human histories and rivalries," Aurath'Zar explained. "It is older and deeper than the stories humans have told about you."
Ritsuka approached Artoria, who was sitting on the floor looking dazed. "Are you alright? That moment when all your versions synchronized looked intense."
"It was... illuminating," Artoria said carefully, her voice still carrying that subtle harmonic quality. "To feel that we are truly aspects of one whole, rather than separate beings... it changes one's perspective on many things." She glanced at Mordred, who was pointedly looking away but clearly listening.
Da Vinci, who had been monitoring the proceedings with an array of magical instruments, approached Aurath'Zar with excitement barely contained. "The energy patterns you're establishing—they're creating a resonance field that extends throughout Chaldea. It's affecting our very reality framework!"
"As intended," Aurath'Zar confirmed. "The harmonic pattern creates a stabilizing effect on local reality—making it more resistant to conceptual intrusion or erasure."
"Like a magical reinforcement of the laws of physics?" Da Vinci suggested.
"More fundamental than physics," Aurath'Zar corrected. "A reinforcement of the concept that reality should exist at all."
Before Da Vinci could ask further questions, an alarm sounded throughout the facility. Holmes' voice came through the communication system, tense but controlled:
"We're detecting a spatial anomaly forming in the lower levels. It doesn't match any known Singularity or Lostbelt pattern. All Servants, prepare for possible incursion."
Aurath'Zar's expression darkened. "It comes sooner than expected. Your collective awakening has drawn its attention already."
"The Void?" Ritsuka asked, already moving to coordinate their Servants.
"Yes," the ancient dragon confirmed. "But this is merely a probing tendril—testing your defenses, sampling your essence. The true confrontation is yet to come."
The dragon Servants, despite their exhaustion, rose to their feet, their draconic aspects flaring with renewed intensity.
"We should face it together," Artoria suggested, her hand on Excalibur's hilt. "Put our new harmonic connection to use."
"No," Aurath'Zar said firmly. "You are not yet ready for direct confrontation. I will address this intrusion. The rest of you maintain the harmonic pattern we have established—it will reinforce the reality framework of this place against deeper incursion."
Before anyone could protest, Aurath'Zar's form blurred at the edges, his humanoid appearance becoming more draconic—scales spreading, limbs elongating, eyes multiplying along the sides of his increasingly serpentine head.
"Remember," his voice echoed as his form continued to shift, "what you have awakened is still just a fragment of what dragons truly are. Do not overreach your current integration."
With that warning, he vanished—not teleporting but seeming to step sideways out of conventional space, leaving behind only a subtle ripple in the air.
"Well, that was dramatic," Mordred commented, breaking the tense silence that followed. "So we just stand around while he deals with the cosmic horror?"
"He instructed us to maintain the harmonic pattern," Artoria reminded her. "That's our role for now."
"And how exactly do we do that without him conducting?" Elizabeth asked, looking around at the others.
It was Kiyohime who answered, her voice unusually calm. "We remember the connections we just formed. Focus on them, reinforce them through our own will."
The dragon Servants looked at each other uncertainly, then closed their eyes, focusing on the connections they had experienced during their practice. Slowly, the auras around them intensified, and the threads of connection became visible once more—fainter than when Aurath'Zar had guided them, but present nonetheless.
Ritsuka watched with a mixture of pride and concern as their dragon Servants found their way without direct guidance, establishing a pattern that, while imperfect, seemed to be strengthening the longer they maintained it.
"They're adapting quickly," Da Vinci observed quietly. "Whatever Aurath'Zar awakened in them, it includes an instinctual understanding of these harmonic patterns."
"Let's hope it's enough," Ritsuka replied, their gaze turning toward the doorway. Somewhere below them, the most ancient of dragons was confronting a force that threatened the very concept of existence—and Ritsuka couldn't help but wonder if even The First Scale would be sufficient to repel it.
In the deepest level of Chaldea, in a maintenance shaft rarely used by staff, reality had begun to... fray. The best description might be that the air itself seemed to be developing tiny tears, through which glimpses of something that was emphatically not reality could be perceived—an absence so complete it hurt the mind to consider it.
Aurath'Zar arrived not by conventional movement but by simply aligning himself with this location, his form now far less humanoid. Standing nearly twelve feet tall, his body covered in scales that shifted between cosmic purple and the absolute black of deep space, he regarded the spatial anomaly with ancient recognition.
"You hunger still," he said to the emptiness. "After all this time, after all the barriers I established between your non-existence and creation's persistence."
The tears in reality pulsed, widening slightly. Something like a voice responded, though it wasn't sound but the absence of sound—the conceptual opposite of communication that nonetheless conveyed meaning:
BREATH-GIVER. YOU INTRUDE AGAIN WHERE NOTHING SHOULD BE.
"It is you who intrudes," Aurath'Zar corrected, his multiple eyes narrowing. "This reality has established its right to exist through countless cycles of creation and dissolution. The dragons here have earned their place in its tapestry."
DRAGONS ARE ABERRATION. THE FIRST MISTAKE. WHEN THEY CEASE, ORDER RETURNS TO NOTHING.
Aurath'Zar's form grew larger still, his connection to human appearance slipping further as his true nature emerged more fully. The maintenance shaft groaned as reality itself struggled to accommodate his expanding essence.
"You will not have them," he stated simply. "Neither the children of my breath nor the reality they help sustain."
Rather than responding verbally again, the tears in reality suddenly expanded dramatically, and from them emerged... appendages, though the term hardly seemed adequate. They were absence given form—voids shaped like limbs that absorbed light, sound, and possibly more fundamental aspects of existence as they reached toward Aurath'Zar.
The ancient dragon did not retreat. Instead, his jaws opened wider than physically possible, and from them emerged the Breathless Flame—fire that didn't illuminate but rather redefined the nature of the space it occupied. Where it touched the void-limbs, reality reasserted itself, forcing pattern and existence back into the encroaching nothingness.
The confrontation escalated, with void-matter and dragon-flame engaged in a conceptual struggle that transcended physical combat. The maintenance shaft began to warp around them, metal and concrete flowing like liquid as fundamental forces fluctuated wildly.
Throughout Chaldea, systems failed and restarted in random patterns. Staff reported seeing impossible geometries in familiar corridors, and several people experienced moments of existential crisis where they briefly forgot their own names or purposes.
In the training chamber, the dragon Servants felt the conflict through their newly awakened connections. Their harmonic pattern faltered momentarily, then strengthened as they instinctively channeled support to their progenitor.
"Something's happening," Artoria said through gritted teeth, her draconic aura flaring brightly. "It's... testing us. Trying to find weaknesses in our pattern."
"Don't break the formation," Kiyohime instructed, her usually obsessive personality subsumed by ancient draconic wisdom. "If any of us falter, it creates a vulnerability in the whole network."
Below, Aurath'Zar perceived the support flowing from his draconic children—a reinforcement of the concept of existence itself, channeled through their collective will. With this additional strength, he intensified his counterattack, forcing the void-matter to retreat gradually back through the tears in reality.
THIS CHANGES NOTHING, the non-voice communicated. WHAT IS NOT CANNOT BE DEFEATED BY WHAT IS. TIME FAVORS ENTROPY, DRAGON.
"Perhaps," Aurath'Zar acknowledged, his multiple eyes glowing with the intensity of active galaxies. "But while I breathe, creation persists. And I have shared that breath with countless children across the tapestry of existence. We are legion against your singular negation."
With a final surge of the Breathless Flame, he forced the remaining void-matter back through the tears, which began to seal themselves as local reality reasserted its integrity. Before they closed completely, the void delivered a final message:
THE DAUGHTERS OF YOUR BREATH ARE FLAWED—TAINTED BY HUMAN CONCEPT AND LEGEND. WHEN I RETURN, THEY WILL BE THE FIRST TO UNRAVEL.
Then the tears sealed completely, leaving the maintenance shaft twisted and warped but fundamentally real once more. Aurath'Zar remained for several moments, ensuring no trace of void-matter remained, before beginning the process of compressing his form back to something that could move comfortably through Chaldea's corridors.
As he did so, he reflected on the void's parting threat. It wasn't wrong—the dragon Servants were indeed influenced by human legend and concept, their original draconic essence filtered through centuries or millennia of stories and beliefs. This made them both more versatile and more vulnerable than pure dragons would be.
But there was something the void failed to understand—something about the unique strength that came from this blending of dragon essence with human concept. A possibility that even Aurath'Zar himself was only beginning to recognize.
With his form reduced to a more manageable size—though still notably more draconic than his original appearance—he made his way back to the training chamber where his children awaited news of the confrontation.
The dragon Servants maintained their harmonic formation for nearly an hour after they felt the conflict subside, uncertain whether it was truly over or merely paused. When Aurath'Zar finally returned, they could immediately see the change in him—his form now a more even balance between humanoid and draconic, with multiple eyes arranged along a slightly elongated face, scaled skin that shifted with cosmic light, and hands that ended in elegant but definitely non-human claws.
"The intrusion has been repelled," he announced, his voice resonating on multiple harmonic frequencies simultaneously. "You did well to maintain the pattern in my absence. It strengthened the fabric of reality throughout this facility."
"Was that really the Void you've warned us about?" Artoria asked, her royal bearing reasserting itself now that the immediate crisis had passed.
"Merely an exploratory tendril," Aurath'Zar confirmed. "A fraction of its true emptiness, testing the integrity of your reality framework."
"But we repelled it," Elizabeth said hopefully. "That's good, right?"
"We have won a preliminary skirmish, nothing more," the ancient dragon cautioned. "The Void now has a taste of your essence—an understanding of the specific harmonic pattern we've established. It will return better prepared."
"Great," Mordred muttered. "So the cosmic horror gets a second chance."
"The Void is not evil as you understand the concept," Aurath'Zar explained, moving to the center of their formation. "It simply exists—or rather, non-exists—in fundamental opposition to creation. It seeks to return all to the state of perfect absence that preceded my first breath."
"How do we defeat something like that?" Super Oryo asked, her serpentine form coiling anxiously. "If it's a fundamental force of nature or whatever?"
"We don't 'defeat' it in the conventional sense," Aurath'Zar replied. "We establish boundaries it cannot cross—harmonic patterns of existence too resilient for it to unravel."
He looked around at the assembled dragon Servants. "Today's confrontation revealed both strength and vulnerability. Your collective resonance is powerful but inconsistent. Some connections are stronger than others."
Ritsuka stepped forward. "What can we do to strengthen the weaker connections?"
"The next phase of awakening," Aurath'Zar said. "Less universal, more specific to each draconic lineage represented here."
He approached Artoria and her variants first. "The Pendragon line must resolve its internal fractures. The division between your aspects weakens your collective resonance."
"You mean we need to... reconcile?" Artoria asked, glancing uncomfortably at her Alter versions and at Mordred.
"Not in human terms," Aurath'Zar clarified. "Your personal histories and choices remain your own. But the draconic essence you all share must recognize itself across these divisions. The dragon does not care about human grudges or regrets."
He moved to Elizabeth and Kiyohime next. "You two represent different expressions of the Eastern dragon lineage, filtered through human legend. Your connection should be among the strongest, yet human concepts of rivalry and territory create dissonance."
"Well, it's hard to harmonize with someone who's always trying to upstage you," Elizabeth complained with a pointed look at Kiyohime.
"And it's difficult to resonate with one whose understanding of passion is so shallow," Kiyohime retorted.
Aurath'Zar made a sound that might have been draconic amusement. "You see? Human concerns obscuring draconic truth. The Eastern dragon tradition values both transformation and constancy—qualities you each embody from different perspectives."
One by one, he identified similar patterns throughout the group—places where human legend, personal history, or conceptual framework created dissonance in what should be natural draconic connections.
"So what's the solution?" Da Vinci asked, fascinated by this diagnosis of spiritual taxonomy.
"Paired resonance training," Aurath'Zar replied. "Each day, two Servants with complementary but currently dissonant draconic signatures will work together to harmonize their connection specifically."
"Like draconic therapy sessions?" Mordred asked skeptically.
"More like... remembering a language you once both spoke fluently, but have since adapted into different dialects," Aurath'Zar suggested. "Finding the common root beneath the variations."
He turned to Ritsuka. "As their Master, you have a crucial role. Your command seals form a nexus point for all these connections. You must learn to perceive the harmonic pattern as a whole and identify where adjustments are needed."
"I'm not sure I have the magical sensitivity for that," Ritsuka admitted.
"Not yet," Aurath'Zar agreed. "But your connection to these Servants has already altered your spiritual composition beyond typical human parameters. Your capacity will grow with practice."
With the immediate crisis averted and a new training regimen established, the gathering began to disperse. The dragon Servants moved in pairs or small groups, already discussing their newly discovered connections and the implications of their shared draconic heritage.
As they filed out, Holmes approached Aurath'Zar with the careful precision of a man choosing his words deliberately.
"Fascinating that the Void targeted Chaldea specifically," he observed. "One might almost suspect that something here—beyond just the concentration of draconic Servants—drew its attention."
Aurath'Zar's multiple eyes focused on the detective. "Your intuition serves you well, Servant of Deduction. Indeed, Chaldea itself represents a conceptual vulnerability in the fabric of reality—a nexus point connecting timelines and possibilities that should otherwise remain separate."
"Thus making it both the most likely target and, potentially, the most devastating point of failure if the Void were to establish a foothold," Holmes concluded.
"Precisely. The concentration of draconic essence here is both shield and beacon—protection against the intrusion, but also a signal that draws the Void's attention."
Holmes stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And these harmonization exercises—they're not merely preparing the dragon Servants for battle, are they? They're restructuring the very fabric of Chaldea's reality framework."
Aurath'Zar's expression shifted to one of approval. "You perceive clearly. Yes, the harmonic pattern we establish does not merely connect the dragons to each other—it anchors them and this entire facility more firmly into the conceptual framework of 'existence.' It makes Chaldea itself more real, more resistant to unraveling."
"A fascinating approach to metaphysical security," Holmes mused. "Though I wonder if all our dragon-blooded allies fully appreciate the extent to which this process might change them."
"Change is inevitable," Aurath'Zar replied simply. "But extinction is not. They choose the former to avoid the latter."
As Holmes departed with this philosophical point to consider, Ritsuka approached the ancient dragon, who had been observing their exchange with interest.
"There's something you're not telling us," Ritsuka said directly, their experiences as Master having honed their intuition about Servants and their hidden agendas. "Something about why the Void is targeting us specifically, or why you answered our summons in the first place."
Aurath'Zar's multiple eyes blinked in sequence—a gesture that somehow conveyed both surprise and respect.
"Perceptive, for one whose existence is so brief," he acknowledged. "Yes, there is more. But some truths must be approached gradually, lest they overwhelm."
"I need to know anything that might affect the safety of my Servants," Ritsuka insisted.
The ancient dragon considered this for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Very well. The Void Between Breaths has existed as long as I have—perhaps longer. Throughout the ages, we have maintained a certain... equilibrium. It seeks to unmake, I seek to preserve. Neither fully succeeding nor failing."
He began to pace, his clawed feet leaving subtle impressions in the floor's material. "But recently, across the tapestry of existence, dragons have begun to fade. Some lineages that once spanned multiple realities are now confined to mere handfuls of worlds. Others have been reduced to myth or memory entirely."
"The natural course of evolution?" Ritsuka suggested.
"No," Aurath'Zar said firmly. "A deliberate unraveling. The Void has grown more strategic, more patient. It targets nexus points where draconic essence connects to the conceptual framework of reality."
"And Chaldea is such a nexus point," Ritsuka concluded.
"The most significant in this timeline," Aurath'Zar confirmed. "A convergence of draconic bloodlines that should never have crossed paths, gathering under one roof, bound to one Master." He fixed Ritsuka with his cosmic gaze. "It is unprecedented... and it has drawn attention from forces that normally remain in the spaces between realities."
"So our summoning system created a vulnerability," Ritsuka said, thinking of the implications.
"A vulnerability and an opportunity," Aurath'Zar corrected. "For what the Void does not understand—cannot understand, by its very nature—is that new patterns of existence can emerge from unexpected combinations."
"New patterns? You mean like the harmonic formations you're teaching the dragon Servants?"
"That and more," the ancient dragon said, his voice dropping to a resonant murmur. "Something is happening here that has never occurred in all the cycles of creation I have witnessed—dragon bloodlines separated by time, space, and conceptual framework, now intermingling their resonances. Creating harmonies that have never before existed."
His expression became more intense, the cosmic swirls in his eyes spinning faster. "And you, Ritsuka Fujimaru, stand at the center of this convergence. A human whose spiritual circuit now carries traces of every draconic lineage bound to you. Something entirely new in the tapestry of existence."
Ritsuka felt a chill run down their spine. "Are you saying I'm changing too? Becoming something... not human?"
"Not becoming less human," Aurath'Zar clarified. "But perhaps becoming more than what 'human' has previously encompassed. A bridge between conceptual frameworks that were never meant to connect."
Before Ritsuka could fully process the implications of this revelation, alarms sounded once again—different from the previous warning, but urgent nonetheless.
"Master!" Mash's voice came through the communication system. "We're detecting multiple magical signatures converging on Chaldea's location. They... they appear to be dragons. Wild dragons, not Servants!"
Aurath'Zar's expression shifted to one of grim understanding. "The awakening of so many draconic bloodlines has sent ripples through the conceptual framework. It draws not only the Void's attention but that of dragons still roaming free in this world's hidden places."
"Are they hostile?" Ritsuka asked urgently.
"Not hostile," Aurath'Zar said, already moving toward the exit. "Desperate. They sense the gathering of their kin and the threat that looms. They come seeking shelter beneath the wing of the First Scale."
Together they hurried toward the command center, where new complications in an already unprecedented situation awaited. The awakening had begun, but its consequences were spreading far beyond the walls of Chaldea—rippling outward through the very fabric of reality itself.
The Gathering Storm
The command center of Chaldea buzzed with frantic activity as monitors displayed multiple anomalous signatures approaching from different directions. Da Vinci and Holmes stood before the main tactical display, their expressions grave as they tracked the incoming entities.
"At least seven distinct signatures," Da Vinci reported as Ritsuka and Aurath'Zar entered. "All registering as phantasmal-class entities, though with unusual energy patterns that don't match our database of known phantasmal species."
"Because they are not mere phantasmals," Aurath'Zar said, moving to study the display. "They are true dragons—perhaps the last in this world that still remember their original nature."
"True dragons?" Holmes repeated, raising an eyebrow. "As opposed to the draconic Servants we host?"
"Your Servants carry draconic essence filtered through human legend and the Throne of Heroes," Aurath'Zar explained. "These are dragons who never entered human mythology, who have hidden in the world's secret places since the age of gods ended."
Ritsuka studied the tactical display with concern. "Why are they coming here? And why now?"
"They sense the awakening," Aurath'Zar replied. "The harmonic pattern we've established acts as a beacon to any with draconic essence. And..." he hesitated briefly, "they feel the Void's attention turning toward this place. They seek protection."
"Protection or absorption?" Holmes asked shrewdly. "One must wonder if they intend to join our defense or simply use Chaldea as shelter while contributing nothing."
"True dragons do not think as humans do," Aurath'Zar said, a note of rebuke in his harmonic voice. "They do not calculate advantage as you suggest. They come because the pattern calls to them, and because dragon instinct demands that scattered kin unite when the Void Between Breaths threatens."
Before further discussion could occur, the door slid open and several of the dragon Servants entered—Artoria, Kiyohime, and Elizabeth at the forefront, with others close behind.
"We felt them approaching," Artoria explained, her hand resting on Excalibur's hilt. "Our draconic aspects... resonate with their presence."
"Will they be hostile?" Kiyohime asked, her usual possessiveness now expanded to encompass all of Chaldea. "Should we prepare for battle?"
"No," Aurath'Zar said firmly. "They come as supplicants, not invaders. They seek the protection of the First Scale and the harmonic pattern we are establishing."
"So what—we're just going to let a bunch of wild dragons into Chaldea?" Mordred asked incredulously, pushing her way to the front of the group.
"We cannot turn them away," Aurath'Zar replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "To do so would be to surrender them to the Void—and each draconic essence lost weakens the conceptual framework that protects all existence."
Da Vinci looked alarmed. "But Chaldea isn't designed to accommodate physical dragons! Our largest containment chambers are barely adequate for Servants in manifestation, let alone multiple true phantasmal beasts!"
"They will adapt," Aurath'Zar assured her. "True dragons exist as much in conceptual space as physical reality. They can compress their manifestations when necessary."
Ritsuka made a quick decision. "We'll welcome them, but with precautions. Artoria, Kiyohime, Elizabeth—since your draconic aspects are most awake, you'll form a welcoming committee along with Aurath'Zar. The rest of the dragon Servants should remain on standby in case there's any... misunderstanding."
"A wise approach," Aurath'Zar approved. "Their arrival presents both opportunity and challenge. More draconic essence strengthens our harmonic pattern, but integrating wild dragons who have never known human contact will require delicacy."
As they made their way to Chaldea's main entrance, Artoria moved to walk alongside Aurath'Zar, her expression troubled.
"Lord Progenitor," she said quietly, "these true dragons... will they recognize our authority? We who are part human, whose draconic essence is diluted by legend?"
"They will recognize the pattern," Aurath'Zar assured her. "And they will respect your connection to me. But yes, there may be... adjustment required on both sides."
When they reached the massive reinforced doors that separated Chaldea from the Antarctic wasteland outside, monitoring systems showed the approaching dragons were now less than a kilometer away. External cameras captured glimpses of massive shapes moving through the swirling snow—sinuous bodies, gleaming scales, the occasional flash of wing or tail.
"They approach cautiously," Aurath'Zar observed. "They sense the concentration of power here and are uncertain of their welcome."
"How do we communicate with them?" Elizabeth asked nervously. "I don't exactly speak Dragon."
"You do," Aurath'Zar corrected her. "You have simply forgotten. When they arrive, let your draconic aspect rise closer to the surface. The understanding will come naturally."
As if on cue,