Mere  sensations  were  caught  by  her  senses—  as  if  it  would  be  about  a  blurry  dream,  distant  from  the  chaotic  fields  of  reality.  His  soft  scent  landing  on  her  nostrils,  the  gentle  wind  tapping  on  her  skin  &  making  her  bangs  sting  her  forehead.  

   Even  so,  sounds  remained  muffled  from  her  reach,  like  if  she  would  be  slowly  starting  to  merge  underwater.  A  distant  light  fainting  in  an  imaginary  ( roof ),  becoming  unreachable  according  the  seconds  faded  behind  ( his )  steps.  Her  ears  caught  the  ground  crushed  by  his  feet,  the  weight  of  them  both.  His  accelerating  breathe,  the  currents  of  his  magical  circuits  touching  hers  with            DESPAIR.

   …such  action  solely  has  lifted  her  eyelids  for  a  brief  attempt  of  second  right  before  her  lips  parted  &.  her  tongue  struggled  to  move.

║🍇║↬ ——❝Mas…ter…❞  

NOTHING COULD HE DO FOR HER, SINCE HE WAS A GHOST WEARING THE ATTIRES OF A DEAD MAN. Now so powerless and fragile, he’s become into a mere resemblance of the one he was, the one he was supposed to never be again. With the odds they were handling, tragedy was the only thing to be expected. He lacked a Command Spell, his powers as Magus, his control over things as they once were. And Faker was lacking a Magus.

Heartless’ dreams have died time ago. To bring back the Magic from the Age of Gods by deifying Faker and fusing her to Iskandar’s Saint Graph. He understood the consequences of his crimes and his actions, and he learned to accept them throughout those days until Hephaestion’s sister made her way to him. He could accept to become an ordinary human again, live on a dreamlike realm where there was no possible exit. His beloved was fading after his eyes. Trapped forever in a world where no other than them lived, he was sure they were no longer going to meet each other. There were fates which were worse than death. These fates were exactly what he couldn’t accept.

And even if he was thinking about giving up to their unfortunate destiny, there was another voice which called him by another name. No longer Heartless (or the Man without a Heart). She called him Master.

If what he had on mind wasn’t going to work, at least he had the consolation to know he has tried.

This is what she wants. And this is something I can’t deny to her.

❝Dying shadow, answer me. Answer the plead of a ghost embodied in a dead man’s corpse. Allow this last spark of my fading flame to guide you break through the obscure walls which engulf thy endless void.❞

His remaining hand itched. It felt like if thorns were growing under his skin and shaped his own veins. A thought ringed behind his ear. If he lacked a heart and had no longer magic... he was a walking impossibility, thus should not be alive. 

❝Let the silver and steel be the essence. Let the stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Embrace this waning string of magic which is connecting us. Rise up my Shadow Warrior, and let’s escape this prison for we don’t belong on this place!

Let it be declared now. Your flesh shall serve under me... and my fate shall be with you...❞

The strongest warriors often rise on the toughest battles.

❝Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth, my beloved warrior...❞

SO LONG SINCE THE LAST TIME he's got any reminders about the anniversary of his birth. He's mentioned it to Faker only once in a passing conversation, therefore he had no idea she was going to remember. It was Faker, though, she used to keep even the slightest details in her memories.

❝Faker... why thank you?❞ He laughed, a sincere laughter. Then his head turned and instead of a kiss on the cheek, it became into a peck on the lips.

       There’s  NOTHING  a  mere  ( copy ),  a  shadow  can  ever  do  but  accept  the  tangibility  within  the  astral  plane  she’s  been  inserted  in  has  NEVER  belonged  to  her—  yet  to  the  creature  she  has  been  created  to  represent,  in  a  sense.  Even  though,  when  the  gloved  hand  in  front  of  her  traced  touches  over  what  she  was  supposed  to  be,  something  awakened. Slowly,  that  silhouette  left  walls,  ground,  structures  surrounding  to  take  a  form  which  moved  in  her  OWN.

   With  the  fragments  of  history  they  have  collected  from  the  then  alive  counterparts,  they  have  managed  to  create  a  distorted,  yet  dazzling  collage.  There  were  pieces  of  glass  scattered  through  all  their  bodies,  caught  by  her  heart  &  saved  deep  within  its  core.  Although  every  beat  made  this  experience  to  be  painful,  there  was  nothing  she  aimed  the  most.

   …until  the  gentle  touch  of  his  lips  made  her  heart  to  smash  against  her  ribcage,  making  it  COLLAPSE.  Her  whole  body  shook  as  if  the  whole  army  which  has  once  marched  along  her  would  step  over  her  skin,  muscles,  bones,  turning  her  complete  structure  into  ( dust ).

   And  then…  her  consciousness  started  to  wane  until  her  sight  has  numbed  by  the  depths  of  the        void.

THE SHIVER SHE EMITTED TRAVELED TO HIS BODY LIKE AN ELECTRIFYING CURRENT. His face heated up, a reaction he believed to having ended pages ago with the name Kurou. His emotions clad in surprise kept him distracted of what was going to come next. Abruptly, their lips separated and he caught her on both of his arms. 

❝Wait... no, no, Faker!! Faker!! Answer me!!❞

Heartless pleaded, uselessly shaking her body to bring her back to consciousness. Heroic Spirits weren’t known for fall this suddenly and he knew a kiss on the lips wasn’t the root cause of her reaction. He knew her days were counted until she could find a Master. Exactly that thought soothed him.

║🍇║↬ ——❝…❞

║🍇║↬ ——❝Here.❞  

   Gives  him  a  spoon  full  with  cake  dough.  Now  let  the  gf  cook.

He’s a happy bf, pressing his chin over her shoulder as he’s trying the cake dough. She’s so good at cooking. He’s not got a birthday cake in ages. That was only back when he was a kid.

     Salt  &  rust  scratched  the  outer  layers  of  her  visage—  words  composed  by  her  lips  escaped  from  the  barriers  of  ( realization )  &.  self  control.  Unaware  of  how  would  this  symphony  affect  him,  she  has  fixed  herself  even  more  into  his  figure,  as  if  the  image  of  having  their  paths  divided  by  the  CRUDE  fate  of  decimation  would  appear  vivid  after  her  eyes,  representing  a  ghost  of  a  yet  unborn  future.

    His  words  brushing  underneath  his  throat  with  such  delicacy  makes  her  separate  her  sight  from  the  void  for  a  fraction  of  moment,  catching  his  chin  moving  as  more  sentences  reached  the  atmosphere.  There  was  no  selfishness  in  the  immense  love  they  had  for  each  other,  regardless  of  Heartless’  viewpoint.  It  was  he  himself  who  gave  Faker  the  closest  concept  of  a  name,  millennia  of  prayers,  &.  to  have  saved  her  before  her  magic  circuits  could  have  disintegrated  back  then  in  the  Spiritual  Tomb  of  Albion.  She  felt  his  pain  as  if  it  would  be  her  ( own ).

                                     …it  has  always  been  this  way  with  him.

      ║🍇║↬ ——❝Too  sad.  I  know  no  better  person  than  you,  Master.❞  She  called  with  a  light  tease,  even  if  that  role  of  his  has  reached  an  end  an  apparent  far  long  ago.

║🍇║↬ ——❝…we  will  find  a  way,  beloved.  There  is  always  one.  We  will  go  beyond  the  limits  of  this  ocean  of  uncertainty.❞  She’s  separated  a  little  from  him,  cupping  his  face.  A  weakened  smile  curved  her  lips  spilled  by  her  own  tears.  

THE CURSE OF SELFISHNESS CHASED THEM FOR ETERNITY, in the disguise of self indulgence and the aim to protect each other from what was unknown. Though for this time, the basic achievements of this new Magus were clear: she was moving mountains of ambition and magic to divide them, a team with a bond so strong that it felt like it was formed by a single person. 

Faker returning at the use of that word to define what made them be this single person has made more and bolder tears roll down through his cheeks, crawl through her fingers and stain her gloves. Even so, the redhead found shelter in that smile of hers which caused him to smile in return. Possibly, a dark hue would give his skin a characteristic tone if there would be blood in his veins. Nonetheless, he was functioning because of a weak current of magecraft.

Something in her heterochromatic eyes sparkled. It could be an echo of his youthful days, or the last whimper of his heart before fairies tore it apart from him. The beauty in that gaze was as impactful as the power of her Mystic Eyes of Compulsion, even if they weren’t emitting that strong orange light.

Face of his moved to approach hers, lips drinking the salty drops of pain bursting from the corners of her eyes daintily. 

     Now  that  distance  was  shorter,  the  former  Magus  could  see  this  creature  clearly.  They  were  clad  in  a  long,  white  dress,  barely  torn  in  the  edges  —giving  the  impression  the  child  has  gone  lost  around  a  day  or  two  from  their  familial  environment.  Wavy  hairs  ignited  in  tones  of  light  blue  &  cyan,  adorning  a  lavender  tinted  face  which  was  stained  by  darker  dots,  as  if  a  stellar  cluster  would  project  on  it.  The  toddler  appeared  to  be  embodied  in  a  little  humanoid  girl.  Even  though  —clearly  was–  that  'she’  was  not.  ‘She’  was  warm,  had  unusual  colors  for  a  regular  human,  &.  she  emitted  light.

  To  'her’,  he  was  owner  of   a  ( soothing )  voice  besides  an  interesting  look.  Even  though  the  ebony  haired  female  was—  in  the  other  hand,  rather  terrifying.  She  squished  his  cheeks  a  little  as  he  spoke,  mouth  barely  open,  showing  awestruck.  As  soon  as  the  warrior  approached,  she’s  wrapped  both  arms  around  the  man’s  face,  cheek  brushing  over  his.  Eyes  opened  wide,  which  also  emitted  a  stronger  light.  This  reaction  followed  by  a  trembling  humming  which  could  resemble  complaint  or  fear.

  Faker  couldn’t  help  but  letting  a  loud  laugh  go  as  response.  The  image  of  Heartless  holding  a  tiny  girl  on  arms  who  also  found  on  him  a  shelter  was  adorable.

║🍇║↬ ——❝Hahaha ! So  we  have  a  tiny  girl  with  us,  haven’t  we ?~  Y'know ?  I  think  she’s  more  scared  of  us  than…  well,  she’s  clearly  scared  of  me—  since  she  also  seems  to  have  adopted  you. 

      So,  what  do  we  do  with  her ?❞  She’s  kept  a  safe  distance  so  the  child  could  examine  her  &  hopefully  basic  body  language  could  let  her  know  she  was  safe  with  them.  

CURIOSITY MIRRORED IN EACH OTHER’S BEHAVIOR. Holding eye contact, he permitted the young one to discover this world and everything which lived within; this obviously included himself. He has never had the opportunity to become a father, thence he’s got caught by surprise when the seemingly little girl has chosen him over Faker.

Not a person knew the Servant like he did, and he could tell she had a warm heart under that façade of the tough woman. He was hopeful that the toddler could see on her the same gentleness he saw on her. Even though this child was strange. Starting from her appearance to a sneak peak of her personality.

❝Hey, don’t be that rude with Faker. She’s a friend.❞ That voice of his was unusual, it was tuned softly to not scare the kid even more. All of this said with a kind smile. 

❝Faker will you let me try the cake dough?❞

║🍇║↬ ——❝Sire  you  don’t  need  a  tuxedo  to  look  fabulous-–❞  

           Also  I’m  the  tuxedo  guy  you’re  supposed  to  be  the  Magical  Girl

❝I do need to put on a good outfit if I’m going to propose to my radiant magical girl.❞