tvk | ⚔ 010; [video; dated to mid-Dark Hour]

[The video shows what appears to be Lancer in his hotel room, face mostly obscured by a book and wearing a suit he's never been seen in before. Behind the chair he sat in, a pair of lances leaned against the wall--a long crimson one and a shorter one in vivid yellow.]

'Hate'.

[Lancer's calm and collected voice had an extra layer to it today, an almost demonic echo that turned gentle tones into mocking amusement.]

'Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live'.

[He lowered the book slightly; his eyes were the same yellow-gold as ever, but today they were ice cold and glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. Instead of his commonly seen casual smile, he wore a condescending and cruel smirk.]

Such an interesting volume to have in my small collection.

Because oh, do I hold within myself such hatred. Such spite and rage, I truly am a worthless knight. But why should I do anything but hate? Being kind and generous has gained me nothing but pain. I don't understand, I don't understand, I don't understand...! Why does it hurt so much? Tell me why everything I do only causes me pain!

'Please, allow me to help you.' 'What can I do for you?' 'How can I assist you?' I never asked for anything in return, I never even asked to be thanked for my efforts. If I'm not helping people, then what is the point of my existence? Have I been placed here only to feel pain in my failures?

Kayneth wished to summon a King of Conquerors--he never even wanted me. And why should he have? I am hardly a hero at all, next to people like Iskander or Ireland's precious hound. I am but a man who stole Fionn mac Cumhaill's betrothed and ran like a coward.

I have neither purpose nor right to live. My hatred is the only thing strong about me. I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the man who cursed and corrupted the Holy Grail itself!

[There was a quiet sound of movement off-camera, directing Lancer to look at the floor with a cruel smirk.]

You're wrong...

[The voice offscreen was strained and shaky, but unmistakably Diarmuid's--without the demonic layer this one had. The first Lancer's smirk only grew wider at that.]

...Do you know what I hate most of all, Prospero?

[He reached off-camera, picking up the original Diarmuid by his shirt collar--slightly bruised and scratched up, wincing in obvious pain. The second one with the cruel smirk on his face calmly took off Diarmuid's glasses and put them on himself, expression not changing in the slightest.]

More than Kayneth and Kiritsugu, more than my own disgusting need to make people happy?

Arturia, please help me--

[He choked that much out in a rushed, almost desperate voice; for the first time, Diarmuid was afraid. Not of death, no, but of the fact that his other self's words seemed to ring true in a dark corner of his heart.]

[He was afraid, and he wanted her at his side.]

More than anything...I hate myself.

[The video cut out suddenly, without another word.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Enlighten me how my friend somehow fails to count as a person!

I am a hero. The reason we are preserved as spirits is because so few ever reach the status of a true hero. An individual who sacrifices everything for the sake of others, and grows famous doing so.

I am a walking concept. I am more than human. More than a weapon. I am a Servant, and thus I am my Master's puppet.

I hope you know that that's a really stupid idea. It sounds pretty, but in practice it will never work because you are a person.

I'm a knight. I can't afford to be anything else.

And even if I did, I wouldn't know how. That is all my existence is meant for.

Then I'll teach you, because no one should have to live just as that.

I already have. I lived and died as that, twice.

You can't save me. Either of me.

I'm going to. You just watch.

...Diarmuid, please hold on a little longer.

I hope you don't think I'm playing games.

[There was the sound of a blade stabbing against the floor, accompanied by a sudden cry of pain in a more familiar voice.]

Ah, I missed...

Stop!

Heh...now, now, I only struck his arm. Although with a cursed lance, I can't say if that'll be fatal or not... Hm. I suppose we'll see.

[Forget that. Hanging up, to find Saber or to come over there himself, or to do something instead of just talking while Diarmuid was in danger.]

[Due to the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey ball so commonly invoked in these situations, we'll say he arrived to an injured Lancer scowling and bandaging up a nasty cut on his arm.]

Diarmuid, here- let me help you.

[Thankfully Issei knows a little of this.]

Issei--...thanks.

[Good, because his hands are shaking too badly to be of much use right now.]

[Issei bandages the wound intently, not saying anything for the moment.]

I don't...I don't know what that was.

[Diarmuid was visibly shaken, hand lingering around faint bruises forming on his throat before going to his head.]

Everything he said, I...

Shhh. You need to rest. You can think about that later.

I'm fine. I have to find him and stop him before he kills someone. He has both my Noble Phantasms, gods only know the kind of damage he could do if he has anything else--

[Lancer stood up, immediately cursing how slow and fragile this human body was; within two seconds of standing he'd stumbled and pressed his back to the wall. Clearly the fight-that-wasn't took more out of him than he thought. Bruised throat, lacerated arm, possibly cracked ribs and definitely a couple strikes to the head.]

[What a mess this was.]

You are in no shape to stop him. If it's a concern then I'll go after him, I'm much less injured than you are. Get in bed or I will make you.

Issei, please--

[That faint note of desperation was in his voice again--if he was afraid now, it wasn't for himself.]

He fights with the skill and ability of a Servant. I'm not even certain I can defeat him alone--he'd kill you.

I'll find Saber. Cu Chulainn. Someone. You are not to leave that bed until I say so.

...

[He suddenly had a hold on Issei's wrist, staring at the ground. Diarmuid didn't know if he could convince him to stay--he didn't even know why his duplicate frightened him so badly.]

[All he knew for sure was that he didn't want Issei fighting him.

...Diarmuid?

[Issei doesn't know what's going through his head, either.]

...don't fight him. Please. If you were hurt it would surely be my fault.

It would be his fault for being awful to you.

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