Berserker is moving super fast! Vroom, vrooom noises run through my head each time it moves! But Lancer's fighting is super strong! He's blocking the blows enough to survive.
I watch carefully, I have to wait until he's preoccupied enough to eliminate the weakling. The weakling is staying close but keeping Berserker between him and Lancer. Just let me kill you! …I'm glad I brought popcorn.
But I can tell, Berserker's tiring faster than it injures Lancer! The weakling looks nervous. It's coming, It's coming!
"Berserker! You're allowed to use it!" Huh? That's not what was supposed to come. Armor surrounds it. Grotesque pale bones. More magic power oozes out, and I remember my song, but before I can start, Lancer's arm and spear fly through the air and land next to me. When did?
I quietly kick them back towards him as Lancer screams. I lose myself for a moment How beautiful. The sharp voice echoing through the rows of pews, the crimson blood spilling from both shoulder and arm, the pained expression painting Lancer's face.
"Enough!" My fantasy breaks. Trembles run through my body… this feeling… no. No. NonononoNONONONONO! I'm not supposed to be on this end of it! Disgusting. Disgusting! It feels so disgusting!
But then I see them, and everything feels right again, though with every word I feel fear onset again, it vanishes before this bliss. The bliss of seeing an emotionless monster trembling in fear! The bliss of seeing someone with so little will they can no longer even lift their hand to take their own life. I feel at peace, like a restless ghost ready to pass on, like a monk who has achieved Buddha, like an angel who has ascended to heaven. This euphoria, at any moment I could-
Disgusting. Disgustingdisgustingdisgustingdisgusting. My head starts to hurt as the oppressive voice barges in. I'm scared. This is different, it's not that intangible fear I felt before, it's not that artificial fear brought on by another's power, it's a truly deep fear, with a clear reason, an origin. If you're so intent on passing on, just do it already! Get out of my way.
"I" yell in "my" head at that dumb brat. "I" lost to that fear he spread out, that will breaking speech from that shitty Lancer. Yes, "I" no longer had the willpower, the willpower to wait patiently, the willpower to accept the brat's actions, the willpower to let "my" body ally with that scum who can get along with beings as screwed up as "my" other personalities.
The fear "I" feel, the despair, it's just like when "I" watched her die. And because of that, rage swells up inside "me". "I" will undo that event. No matter what.
"YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU ARE BENEATH ME!" Just like him, a shitty true heroic spirit, cocky and worthless to the very core. Please die.
"YOU DON'T EVEN EXIST! YOU ARE A FALSE HEROIC SPIRIT, AND AMALGAMATION OF CORPSES FROM THE THRONE." "I" know that already. "I'm" just a fake. And what's that matter? "I" am the culmination of "my" experiences. Please die.
"YOUR WISH SHALL NEVER BE GRANTED, FOR IT IS NOT EVEN YOUR OWN!" Who cares about a wish, all that you need to do is fight for whatever principle or goal you wants. Please die.
Ah, it's back up the brat's voice rings through "my" head. "I'd" rather deal with a million bird brains than this one, do "I" really have to live with "myself"? Please die.
All of you are in "my" way. You're a pain, so please die. "I" don't like you, so please die. You disgust "me", so please die. You're mindless, so please die. "I" need to save her, so please die.
"It is time for you to die Berserker" "I" act quickly as the two are preparing themselves and posturing.
"I" walk over to the master's cowering body stab him in the head, say "My name is Blahster, would you please die?" and interrupt the activation of Lancer's noble Phantasm by singing Ichor of Reverie. Both servants scream out in pain and disorientation as the magic they're using begins tearing their magic circuits and bodies apart.