Abnormality In Type-Moon: Madness Of Animeverse

"Who starts off with their ultimate move?!"

Angolmois gasped in disbelief.

The Scarlet Lotus Saint (La Pucelle)—a manifestation of Jeanne d'Arc's final moments—was a Noble Phantasm that embodied the flames which consumed her. A conceptual crystallization of those flames, it functioned as a subtype of a Reality Marble. However, activating it came at the cost of Jeanne's own life, making it an ultimate strike with catastrophic destructive potential.

But this wasn't just any fire. These flames selectively targeted only those Jeanne deemed necessary to defeat, sparing everything else entirely from harm.

Angolmois had always been confident in his own fragility. Forget a Noble Phantasm like this—even a casual strike from Jeanne was something he doubted he could withstand.

Panicked, he spun around and bolted, eyes darting toward the Nightmare Curse Spirit. His plan? The same old trick—use the Curse Spirit's abilities to escape.

"Ah… hopeless..."

The moment he turned, reality set in. This game was over.

The conceptual flames had already consumed the Nightmare Curse Spirit before Angolmois could even act.

Jeanne had instinctively recognized the source of this nightmare-filled domain as the Curse Spirit. Whether it was divine guidance, intuition, or some inexplicable force, she had targeted it first.

Even Okita Souji, who had been battling the spirit in close quarters, was startled by the encroaching flames. But when she realized they carried no heat or hostility toward her, only a comforting warmth, she quickly grasped their nature—this was an ultimate attack that automatically distinguished friend from foe.

The Curse Spirit was devoured by the flames, unable to utter even a dying scream. With its demise, the surrounding dreamscape shattered like a fractured mirror.

As for Angolmois, he merely shrugged in resignation, standing still as the flames engulfed him. Without resistance, his figure dissolved into nothingness.

Jeanne herself vanished from the dreamscape as well, her life sacrificed in unleashing her Noble Phantasm.

"Such a fleeting visit."

Roy's cold smirk deepened as he gazed at the spot where Jeanne had disappeared.

She ran fast enough, indeed.

A dream was a dream, and reality was reality. With the Nightmare Curse Spirit gone, the events of the dream would no longer affect the real world. Jeanne, back in reality, should have already awakened by now.

"Wow… It's finally over!"

Rin Tohsaka let out a long sigh of relief, leaning on her knees as if her strength had been drained.

"Save your words for when we're awake," Roy said.

"Fair enough."

"Agreed," added Illyasviel.

Though it was just a dream, the exhaustion they felt was all too real. Without further complaint, Rin and Illya departed from the dreamscape, leaving only Roy and Okita Souji behind.

The space around them warped unpredictably—a sign that their time in the dream was nearing its end.

"Rider, is that Curse Spirit confirmed dead?"

Roy adjusted the black-rimmed glasses that had suddenly appeared in his hand, now perched neatly on his face.

"Absolutely."

"Good."

Roy exhaled slowly, a faint tension easing from his shoulders.

Angolmois's fate was irrelevant—being tied to the Holy Grail made him nearly impossible to kill. But the Nightmare Curse Spirit? That was a different story entirely. Eliminating it had been non-negotiable, even if it meant enduring the violation of having his past scrutinized.

Once alone, Taikoubou materialized before Roy with an amused expression, his tone as casual as ever.

"Thanks to Jeanne's self-sacrificing Noble Phantasm, the Curse Spirit is confirmed gone. I must say, her timing spared me from exposure yet again. Twice now, in fact!"

"Indeed. Seems our luck is holding strong," Roy replied, his voice carrying a trace of relief.

Okita Souji nodded in agreement. The first crisis had been resolved by Aoko, and now the second by Jeanne.

Though Taikoubou's presence meant neither had been true threats, keeping his existence hidden had been the highest priority.

"Luck, huh? I'd like to agree, but, Master… I don't think this is mere luck," Taikoubou said, his sly grin widening.

"What do you mean?"

"I overheard some interesting tidbits during our little ordeal. Both Aoko and Jeanne were compelled by some mysterious force to aid you. This wasn't Aoko's first time, either—it was her second. And here's the kicker: I confirmed just now that magicians, like us celestial beings, are forbidden from intervening on this world's surface."

"…Forbidden by what?"

"By the very foundation of existence—Akasha, the Root itself. Hard to wrap your head around, isn't it?"

Even Taikoubou's perpetually smug expression faltered slightly, his frustration evident.

Roy's breath caught. He processed the implications slowly, his brow furrowing in thought.

"What's the Root playing at?"

"It gets stranger," Taikoubou continued. "The Root doesn't normally interfere. It's the ultimate observer, detached from all things. And yet… something compelled Jeanne and Aoko to break its rules. If anything could push magicians to defy such restrictions, it would have to be the Root itself."

The idea was absurd—a contradiction that seemed impossible. Yet it was the only explanation that fit.

"This world wasn't abandoned—it was chosen."

Taikoubou's words carried weight, as if he were sharing a revelation long hidden. Even the gods and celestial beings had been kept in the dark, their curiosity about this world heightened by the mystery surrounding it.

"So, what are we looking at here?" Roy asked, a trace of dread in his voice.

"A stage," Taikoubou mused. "A stage prepared for something monumental—a world-scale event orchestrated by the Root itself. But what that event is, I can't even begin to fathom."

He sighed, frustrated by his inability to unravel the puzzle.

"That's assuming your logic even applies," Okita Souji interjected, shrugging nonchalantly. "We're talking about the Root, aren't we? It's supposed to be unfathomable. Maybe we're better off not knowing."

"Hah! Simplicity really is a virtue," Taikoubou said, laughing heartily.

"Rider, keep pushing your luck, and I'll show you just how 'simple' I can be!" Okita retorted, baring a glinting smile as her petite frame bristled with mock indignation.

Roy ignored their banter, lost in his thoughts.

The Root had chosen this world as a stage, and for some reason, it had singled him out.

So, what does the Root truly want?

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