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# Radiance Without Mercy: Contact Protocol TYPE-SUN
## CHAPTER 1: ANOMALOUS SIGNAL
Director Godfrey Fujimaru massaged his temples as he stared at the holographic projection of solar activity filling Chaldea's command center. Seven days of the Great Leyline Alignment had passed, bringing with them increasingly peculiar readings from their observation systems. The Alignment itself was rare enough—a once-in-ten-millennia event where Earth's magical circuits synchronized with cosmic forces—but this was something else entirely.
"Da Vinci, explain this to me again, but slower this time," he said, voice heavy with exhaustion.
Leonardo Da Vinci—reincarnated into her preferred form through Chaldea's Servant summoning system—manipulated the hologram with delicate fingers. Her usually playful demeanor had vanished over the past three days, replaced by scientific intensity that bordered on religious fervor.
"Look here," she said, expanding a segment of the Sun's core. "This isn't an energy anomaly—it's conceptual mass fluctuation. Something embedded in the Sun's core is... responding to the Alignment. Moving with purpose."
Dr. Sylvia Chen, Chaldea's astrophysicist, shook her head. "That's thermodynamically impossible. Nothing could survive those temperatures, let alone maintain structural integrity."
"And yet..." Da Vinci's voice trailed off as she pulled up another visualization. "Yesterday at 0347 hours, we detected this."
The hologram shifted to display a momentary pulse pattern rippling outward from the anomaly—a clear, deliberate sequence repeating twelve times before ceasing.
Mash Kyrielight, standing quietly near the back of the room, stepped forward. Her lavender hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, her glasses slightly askew from the all-night monitoring session. "That's not random noise," she said softly.
"No," Da Vinci confirmed. "It's not. And at 0613 this morning, we detected... this."
The hologram shifted again. This time, a pattern formed in the solar plasma—geometric, precise, and unmistakably artificial. Within it, a humanoid silhouette hung suspended, unaffected by the nuclear furnace surrounding it.
"Oh god," whispered Chen, her scientific skepticism evaporating.
Director Fujimaru's knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the console. "Tell me this is some kind of projection artifact."
Da Vinci's brilliant eyes met his with unusual gravity. "It's not. And there's something else."
She made a subtle gesture, and a new display appeared—a chaotic, stuttering readout from Chaldea's prognostication systems. Every device in the command center simultaneously experienced power fluctuations as the readout appeared, several monitoring stations shutting down completely from the conceptual interference.
"Solomon's fragmented foresight systems are going haywire. The Throne of Heroes is eerily silent. And any magecraft invoking sun-based systems—Apollo, Ra, Amaterasu—all failing to align." Her voice dropped. "Something fundamental has changed in the universe, Director. Something is looking at us."
Before Fujimaru could respond, an alarm blared throughout the command center. On every screen, bizarre glyphs appeared, burning themselves into the display matrices regardless of input. Da Vinci frantically worked to translate, her expression growing increasingly troubled.
"It's... it's identifying itself," she whispered.
The glyphs rearranged, forming words in every human language simultaneously:
**"ULTIMATE ONE OF THE SUN"**
Then, as abruptly as they appeared, the glyphs vanished—leaving a single message burned into Chaldea's central quartz matrix:
**"YOU HAVE BEEN SEEN."**
The lights throughout the facility flickered, then stabilized. In the sudden silence, Mash's voice seemed impossibly loud.
"Director... I think it just noticed us looking at it."
Several technicians clutched their heads in pain, blood trickling from their noses. The mere conceptual feedback of being noticed by the entity had overwhelmed their neural pathways. Dr. Chen rushed to assist them as medical alerts sounded throughout the facility.
Fujimaru took a deep breath, attempting to maintain his composure despite the growing sense of cosmic dread. "I want all department heads in the briefing room in ten minutes. Mash, get Ritsuka. Da Vinci, prepare everything we know about this... anomaly."
"What do we call it?" Dr. Chen asked, still staring at the now-normal displays while medical staff tended to the affected technicians.
"TYPE: SUN," Da Vinci replied grimly. "Based on ancient magecraft records of similar entities. The Ultimate Ones. Conceptual manifestations of planetary consciousness."
"But the Sun isn't a planet," Chen protested weakly.
"No," Da Vinci agreed, her voice barely audible. "It's much more powerful. Potentially beyond anything we've ever encountered... including the Beasts."
As the command center erupted into organized chaos, Holmes materialized from the corner where he'd been observing, his expression unusually grave.
"Most concerning," he murmured. "The timing of this emergence coinciding with the Great Leyline Alignment suggests causal relationship rather than mere coincidence. I wonder..."
"Holmes, not now," Fujimaru cut him off. "Save your deductions for the briefing."
The detective nodded, unperturbed by the sharp tone. "Of course, Director. Though I would suggest summoning more combat-ready Servants immediately, before our connection to the Throne weakens further."
"Combat-ready?" Fujimaru echoed. "You think we can fight something living in the Sun?"
Holmes's eyes met his with uncharacteristic solemnity. "No, Director. I do not. But having our strongest allies present may provide... options, limited though they may be."
Fujimaru paused, then nodded in agreement. "Good call. Mash, after you find Ritsuka, both of you head to the Summoning Chamber. Bring in whoever you can while we still have the chance."
As personnel dispersed to their tasks, Fujimaru remained alone at the central console, staring at the spot where the message had appeared. In his fifteen years as Director of Chaldea, following in his father's footsteps, he'd faced countless threats to humanity—demon pillars, divine spirits, even fragments of Beasts. But nothing had ever felt like this—like being noticed by something so vast it made human civilization seem like microbes in comparison.
"What do you want?" he whispered to the empty air.
Only silence answered, but somehow, it felt like something was listening with ancient patience—a consciousness that measured time in billions of years, considering whether the brief flame of humanity was worth allowing to continue burning.
## CHAPTER 2: THE QUIET CATASTROPHE
The Summoning Chamber hummed with energy as Ritsuka Fujimaru placed another Saint Quartz into the ritual circle. Beside him, Mash monitored the fluctuating leyline connections, her expression growing increasingly concerned.
"The connection is degrading with each summoning," she reported. "Whatever's happening with the Sun is affecting our link to the Throne of Heroes. It's as if... as if something is overriding the very concept of heroic manifestation."
Ritsuka nodded grimly. "Then we'll use what we have while we still can." He raised his hand, channeling his Command Circuits. "By my authority as Master of Chaldea, I call forth those who would stand with humanity in its hour of need!"
The circle flared with blinding light, then stabilized into a spinning vortex of mana. From within it, a tall figure emerged—regal, divine, with skin like burnished copper and eyes that sparked with lightning.
"I am Karna, Son of the Sun God," the figure announced, his voice quiet yet carrying absolute authority. "My spear answers your call."
The moment Karna materialized fully, he stiffened, his divine senses immediately detecting the cosmic disturbance. The armor bestowed by his father Surya—the Hindu sun deity—flickered with unusual instability, as if responding to some greater solar authority.
"Something is wrong," he stated flatly, his normally impassive features showing rare concern. "My connection to solar divinity feels... subordinated."
Ritsuka bowed slightly. "We're grateful for your presence, Karna. Humanity faces a threat unlike any before."
Karna's piercing gaze studied Ritsuka, then Mash. "I sense disturbance in the solar conceptual matrix. Is this related to your need?"
"Yes," Mash confirmed. "Something has awakened within the Sun. Something that calls itself TYPE: SUN."
A flicker of recognition passed across Karna's features. "The Ultimate One of the Sun. A stellar consciousness." He closed his eyes briefly, his body tensing visibly. "I feel its pressure already upon my divinity. It... it reduces all solar myths to mere echoes. Even my father's authority pales before it."
Before they could question him further, the summoning circle activated again—this time without Ritsuka's input. Golden light filled the chamber as a booming laugh echoed against the walls.
"Behold! The Pharaoh graces you with his divine presence!" A magnificent figure strode from the light, adorned in golden regalia that caught and amplified the chamber's illumination. "I, Ramesses II, the living Horus, the divine Ra incarnate, have deemed your situation worthy of my intervention!"
Yet even as Ozymandias proclaimed his divinity, his expression faltered momentarily. The Pharaoh's connection to Ra—the Egyptian solar deity—suddenly wavered, his divine authority experiencing the same subordination that had affected Karna.
"What is this?" he demanded, golden aura flickering. "What power dares interfere with the Pharaoh's divine connection?"
Karna regarded the Pharaoh with calm assessment. "The sun you claim is but a reflection of the true stellar consciousness that now awakens. All solar divinities are being... realigned."
The Pharaoh turned to Karna, drawing himself to full height. "You dare question my divine authority, Son of Surya? I who commanded Ra's barque?"
"I merely state fact," Karna replied, unintimidated. "Neither your divinity nor mine encompasses the totality of solar existence. What awakens is beyond both our mythological frameworks."
Before the tension could escalate, the summoning circle flared a third time. This time, the light that emerged was blinding white—pure, chivalric radiance that formed into a noble knight with golden hair and an easy smile that belied his tremendous power.
"Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun, answers Chaldea's call," he announced, kneeling briefly before rising. As he stood, however, his smile faltered. His Noble Phantasm, Excalibur Galatine—the sister sword to King Arthur's Excalibur that contained the heat of the Sun—suddenly felt heavy in his hands, its power fluctuating unpredictably.
"Something affects my connection to solar power," he observed, eyes narrowing. "My Galatine responds to a higher authority."
As Gawain straightened, his eyes met Karna's, and a moment of silent recognition passed between the two solar warriors. Ozymandias observed the exchange with narrowed eyes, his divine pride clearly bristling at the presence of other sun-affiliated heroes experiencing the same subordination he felt.
"The gang's all here, I see," came a new voice from the doorway. Xuanzang Sanzang bounded into the room, her energetic presence immediately lightening the atmosphere. "I sensed a disturbance in the Great Wheel! Buddha's wisdom pointed me straight to this crisis!"
Unlike the others, Sanzang showed no signs of power fluctuation—her Buddhist enlightenment operated on different metaphysical principles than direct solar connection. Yet even she paused mid-stride, her normally cheerful expression sobering as she felt the cosmic pressure permeating Chaldea.
"Oh," she said softly, uncharacteristically serious. "This is... this is big. Really, really big."
Ritsuka's expression brightened slightly despite the situation. "Master Sanzang! I didn't realize you were still in Chaldea."
The monk grinned, twirling her staff. "I was meditating in the Eastern Garden. But even in deepest trance, I felt something shift in the heavens." Her expression turned more serious. "Something very big, very powerful, and very, very intrigued by humans."
"Intrigued?" Mash echoed.
Sanzang nodded. "Not hostile, exactly. More... curious. Like how a child might look at ants. Wondering if they're worth keeping alive."
The summoning circle pulsed again, but this time instead of forming properly, the energies sputtered and collapsed. The mana dispersed, leaving only inert stone.
"That's it," Mash observed quietly. "The connection is gone. We can't summon any more Servants."
"The stellar consciousness solidifies its domain," Karna stated grimly. "Solar concepts now answer to it first, all others second. We were fortunate to establish our presence before the realignment completed."
Ozymandias scoffed, though with less confidence than his usual bombast. "No celestial upstart can deny MY divine right! I shall speak with this 'TYPE: SUN' directly, pharaoh to divine entity!"
"That would be unwise," Karna replied, his calm voice carrying unusual urgency. "This is not a being we can challenge through force or authority. It exists beyond the framework of our legends."
"What can we do then?" Gawain asked, ever the practical knight.
Sanzang bounced on her heels, returning to her usual energy. "First, we learn! Great wisdom comes from understanding what we face. Let's go hear what the smart folks have figured out!"
As they made their way through Chaldea's corridors, staff members stopped to stare at the procession of legendary beings. Some looked relieved at the sight of such powerful allies; others seemed to understand that even these mighty heroes might be woefully insufficient against what awaited them.
In the central atrium, they encountered another group of Servants who had gathered instinctively in response to the crisis. Gilgamesh leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his crimson eyes tracking their approach with arrogant amusement. Beside him, Merlin chatted animatedly with a stone-faced King Hassan, whose skull mask revealed nothing of his thoughts. Nearby, Scáthach and Cu Chulainn seemed engaged in serious discussion, while Edmond Dantès lurked in the shadows, observing everything with cynical detachment.
"Ah, the sun-children arrive," Gilgamesh remarked as they approached. "How fitting that you should be present when celestial order asserts itself."
"You know something about this entity?" Ritsuka asked.
The King of Heroes shrugged one shoulder. "I know of all things. The Ultimate Ones were recorded even in my treasury's oldest tablets, though they were mere theoretical existences then. Planetary consciousnesses so vast they barely perceive lesser beings." His smirk widened. "Though I admit, even I never encountered one personally."
"They're beyond even the gods," Merlin added, his usual frivolity subdued. "Conceptual manifestations of cosmic forces. The Greek pantheon called them Protogenoi—primordial deities that predated the Olympians."
"In Celtic myth, we called them Fomorians," Cu Chulainn contributed. "Beings from beneath the sea or beyond the stars. Too ancient for even the Tuatha Dé Danann to fully comprehend."
Scáthach nodded, her ancient eyes reflecting unusual concern. "The Land of Shadows contains scrolls speaking of entities that judge entire worlds. They were old when the universe was young."
"And this one dwells within the Sun itself," King Hassan intoned, his hollow voice resonating from within his skull mask. "The giver of all earthly life now questions whether that gift was warranted."
A heavy silence fell over the assembled Servants—some of the most powerful beings in human myth and legend—as they collectively recognized the unprecedented nature of what they faced. Even Gilgamesh's eternal arrogance seemed tempered by sober assessment.
Ritsuka looked around at the gathering of legendary heroes, feeling both reassured and deeply troubled by their presence. If even they spoke of TYPE: SUN with such reverence and caution...
"We should get to the briefing," he said finally. "Director Fujimaru is waiting."
As they moved toward the briefing room, Edmond Dantès fell into step beside Ritsuka.
"Hope and despair balance on a knife's edge," the Avenger murmured, his voice carrying only to Ritsuka's ears. "But remember this, Master—even cosmic judges must follow some form of law. Every consciousness, no matter how vast, operates by principles. Find those principles, and you may yet find a path forward."
Ritsuka nodded gratefully. Leave it to the Count of Monte Cristo to find methodical calculation even in the face of cosmic authority.
Together, this unprecedented gathering of legends entered the briefing room, where humanity's response to the Ultimate One would begin to take shape.
## CHAPTER 3: THE HELIOGLYPH
The briefing room fell silent as Director Fujimaru surveyed the assembled heroes and staff. The long oval table, designed to accommodate Chaldea's department heads, now hosted an array of legendary figures whose combined power could reshape continents—yet even they seemed subdued in the face of the crisis at hand.
"Thank you all for coming," Fujimaru began, his voice steady despite the strain evident in his features. "As most of you are now aware, we're facing an unprecedented situation. Da Vinci, please begin the briefing."
Leonardo Da Vinci rose, activating the room's holographic display. Above the table, a three-dimensional model of the Sun appeared, with a pulsing anomaly at its core. The moment the visualization manifested, several magical instruments throughout the room cracked, unable to properly process the conceptual density they were attempting to display.
"Seven days ago, the Great Leyline Alignment began—a rare astronomical and thaumaturgical event during which Earth's magical circuits synchronize with cosmic forces," she explained, adjusting the display to reduce the conceptual feedback. "During our routine monitoring, we detected something unexpected within the Sun's core—not an energy anomaly, but a fluctuation in conceptual mass."
The hologram zoomed in on the anomaly, revealing a humanoid silhouette suspended within the nuclear furnace. Even this indirect representation exerted incredible pressure on the room—several staff members developed immediate migraines, while the weaker Servants visibly tensed against the conceptual weight.
"This entity identifies itself as 'Ultimate One of the Sun,' or TYPE: SUN. Based on ancient magecraft records, we believe it represents the awakened consciousness of the Sun itself."
Gilgamesh leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes fixed on the projection. "So the stellar mind has finally achieved self-awareness. Fascinating."
"Is it hostile?" asked Cu Chulainn, ever the pragmatic warrior.
Da Vinci's expression grew troubled. "We don't know. It seems... evaluative. Observational. It's studying us."
"And judging us," added Sherlock Holmes, who stood near the wall, pipe in hand though unlit. "Note the specific phrasing of its communication: 'You have been seen.' Not a threat, but an acknowledgment of observation. The entity has noticed humanity and is now assessing us."
"For what purpose?" Ritsuka asked.
"That," Holmes replied, "is the central question. What criteria does a stellar consciousness use to evaluate lesser beings? What does it want from us?"
Merlin twirled his staff thoughtfully. "Cosmic entities operate on principles beyond human morality or comprehension. Its 'wants' may be utterly alien to us."
"Then we must establish communication," Director Fujimaru stated firmly. "Find a way to understand its intentions before it takes action."
"Action?" Ozymandias questioned. "What action could it take?"
Da Vinci's expression darkened further. "Based on our analysis of its conceptual mass and energetic potential... it could potentially extinguish all life on Earth with a thought. Or worse, rewrite our reality entirely."
A tense silence followed this statement.
"And our options for defense?" asked Scáthach, ever the strategist.
Da Vinci exchanged a glance with Director Fujimaru before responding. "Against an entity of this magnitude? Conventional defense is... not viable. Even combined, the powers in this room would be like candles attempting to extinguish a supernova."
"Then what's left?" Fujimaru demanded.
Mash stepped forward, her quiet voice somehow filling the room. "We talk to it."
All eyes turned to her.
"We initiate contact," she continued, more confident now. "On our terms. We reach out before it decides what we are without our input."
A long moment of silence followed before Da Vinci nodded slowly. "It's audacious... but it might be our only option. Project: CROWN REVERENCE."
"What's that?" asked the Director.
"A theoretical protocol I designed years ago," Da Vinci explained. "For initiating communication with conceptual entities beyond human comprehension. It was never meant to be implemented, but..."
"But now we have no choice," finished Fujimaru grimly. "How does it work?"
The hologram shifted to display complex schemas and magical formulae. Even these theoretical representations of the communication protocol were so conceptually dense that they seemed to warp the air around them.
"The protocol has three key components. First, the Helioglyph—a device that translates human concepts into stellar language. It simulates humility, curiosity, and peaceful intent in a form a cosmic consciousness might comprehend."
"Interesting approach," murmured Holmes. "Not merely linguistic translation, but conceptual transformation. Speaking to it in its native cognitive framework."
"Precisely," Da Vinci confirmed. "Second, we'll need an emotional anchor—something to convey the value of individual consciousness. For this, we'll utilize Dr. Romani's memorial systems."
A momentary hush fell over the room at the mention of their fallen comrade.
"Romani sacrificed himself to save humanity," Da Vinci continued softly. "His echo systems still contain fragments of his compassion, his understanding of human fragility and worth. We'll integrate these emotional matrices into our communication array."
"And the third component?" prompted Fujimaru.
"A contact team," Da Vinci replied. "We need representatives to project their consciousness along the leylines to the outer corona of the Sun—not physically, but as conceptual avatars. This is where our sun-affiliated Servants become crucial."
All eyes turned to Karna, Gawain, Ozymandias, and Xuanzang Sanzang.
"Their spiritual essence makes them more resilient to the conceptual distortions they'll encounter," Da Vinci explained. "They'll form the vanguard of our approach."
"It would be my honor to serve as humanity's emissary," Gawain stated firmly, though those who knew him well could detect the slight tension in his voice.
Karna simply nodded his assent, as always concealing any personal concerns behind his impassive demeanor.
Ozymandias laughed, though it lacked his usual resounding confidence. "Of course the Pharaoh must lead such an important diplomatic mission! Who better to speak with a solar entity than one who commanded Ra's very barque!"
Sanzang clapped her hands together. "I'll bring Buddha's wisdom to this conversation! Sometimes the biggest entities need the simplest truths!"
"We'll need one more component," Da Vinci continued. "An anchor point—someone to serve as the fixed connection between all elements of the contact protocol. Someone whose unique nature bridges the gap between human understanding and heroic spirit."
Her gaze settled on Mash, who straightened under the attention.
"Me?" Mash asked, her voice small but steady.
"Your Demi-Servant nature makes you ideal," Da Vinci confirmed. "Half human, half heroic spirit, carrying Galahad's Noble Phantasm. You exist at the intersection of humanity and legend."
Ritsuka stepped forward. "If Mash is going, then I—"
"Will remain here," Director Fujimaru interrupted firmly. "We can't risk both of you. If something goes wrong, we'll need a Master with your capabilities to implement contingency measures."
Ritsuka opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, recognizing the logic even if he didn't like it.
"This is all fascinating," drawled Gilgamesh, examining his golden gauntlets with affected boredom, "but what happens if this stellar judge finds humanity wanting? What if it decides we're unworthy of continued existence?"
The question hung in the air, giving voice to the fear everyone had been avoiding.
"Then we fight," declared Cu Chulainn, Gae Bolg materializing in his hand.
"Against a stellar consciousness?" Scáthach countered. "Even my dominion over death would mean little against such an entity."
"My Azrael might reach it," King Hassan intoned, "but even the concept of death submits to cosmic law."
"We would find a way," Ritsuka insisted. "We always have."
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that," Director Fujimaru said. "Da Vinci, how soon can Project: CROWN REVERENCE be ready?"
"I'll need twenty-four hours to complete the Helioglyph and integrate Romani's systems. The contact team should use that time to prepare mentally and spiritually for the encounter."
Fujimaru nodded. "Then we move forward. Dismissed, everyone. Mash, contact team—please remain for additional briefing."
As the others filed out, Ritsuka lingered, his gaze locked with Mash's. No words were necessary between them after all they'd been through together. His expression said everything: Be careful. Come back to me. I believe in you.
Mash nodded slightly, drawing strength from his silent support. Then he too departed, leaving the contact team to prepare for humanity's most important first contact.
"Now," Director Fujimaru addressed the remaining group, "let's discuss exactly how we approach a god of thermodynamic law."
---
Workshop C hummed with arcane energy as Da Vinci labored over the Helioglyph. The device resembled a complex crystalline structure suspended within a matrix of golden rings, constantly shifting between solid form and pure light. With each adjustment to its configuration, it emitted pulses of conceptual resonance that made the air shimmer and thoughts momentarily blur.
The workshop itself had been heavily modified for this purpose—the walls reinforced with thaumaturgical barriers, reality anchors positioned at strategic intervals, and emergency conceptual circuit breakers installed throughout the facility. Even with these precautions, the raw potential of what they were attempting created subtle distortions in the surrounding space.
"Hand me the quartz resonator, would you?" Da Vinci requested, not looking up from her work.
Mash, who had been observing quietly from a nearby stool, carefully lifted the delicate crystal instrument and passed it to the genius inventor.
"Thank you," Da Vinci murmured, integrating the resonator into the Helioglyph's framework. The device pulsed in response, harmonics rippling through the workshop. Several small objects on nearby shelves spontaneously rearranged themselves according to some incomprehensible pattern. "Beautiful... the conceptual translation matrix is stabilizing nicely."
"How does it work?" Mash asked, adjusting her glasses as she studied the intricate construction.
Da Vinci smiled, always eager to explain her creations despite the gravity of their situation. "Think of it as a Rosetta Stone for cosmic consciousness. The problem we face is that TYPE: SUN experiences reality in fundamentally different terms than we do. It exists simultaneously as matter and concept. Its thoughts might manifest as fusion reactions; its emotions, as solar flares."
She gestured to the shifting crystal at the Helioglyph's core. "This translates human concepts into stellar language—not just words, but the underlying meaning, the 'shape' of our thoughts. When activated, it will broadcast conceptual patterns that represent humility, curiosity, peaceful intent."
"And it can understand our response?" Mash asked.
"That's where Dr. Romani's systems come in," Da Vinci replied, her expression softening at the mention of their fallen friend. "His emotional matrices encode the value of individual consciousness—the 'language of small beings begging not to burn.' When integrated with the Helioglyph, they'll help translate TYPE: SUN's responses into something we can comprehend."
She paused, laying down her tools and looking directly at Mash. "How are you feeling about tomorrow's mission?"
Mash considered the question carefully. "Nervous," she admitted. "But resolved. Someone needs to do this, and my unique nature makes me suitable. I just hope... I hope I can find the right words."
Da Vinci placed a gentle hand on Mash's shoulder. "Words may be the least important part of this communication. What matters is the concept you embody—humanity's resilience, our capacity for growth, our determination to understand even that which seems incomprehensible." Her normally confident expression faltered slightly. "But Mash... you need to understand the risk. If TYPE: SUN reacts negatively, the feedback through your connection could be... catastrophic."
"You mean it could kill me," Mash stated simply.
Da Vinci didn't sugarcoat it. "Yes. Or worse—it could fundamentally alter your conceptual makeup. Change what you are at an essential level."
Mash nodded, accepting this reality with the quiet courage that had always defined her. "I understand. But someone has to do this. And I'd rather it be me than risk anyone else."
Da Vinci studied her for a moment, then smiled with genuine pride. "You know, sometimes I forget how much you've grown from that shy girl we first found in Chaldea's lower levels. Galahad chose well when he shared his power with you."
Before Mash could respond, the air in the workshop suddenly grew heavy, reality itself seeming to compress around them. Both women tensed as the Helioglyph responded to some external pressure, its crystalline structure vibrating at increasing frequency.
"Da Vinci...?" Mash questioned, shield materializing instinctively on her arm.
"It's detecting something," Da Vinci murmured, checking the instruments. "A conceptual probe—extremely subtle, but immensely powerful."
The pressure continued to build until breathing became difficult, the workshop's thaumaturgical barriers straining against something trying to observe them from outside normal space-time. The Helioglyph's vibrations reached fever pitch, then suddenly stabilized into a resonant hum that somehow felt... harmonious.
"It's calibrating," Da Vinci whispered in awe. "TYPE: SUN is already reaching out, tuning to our frequency before we even initiate contact."
"Is that good or bad?" Mash asked.
"I'm not sure. It suggests genuine interest in communication, but also..." Da Vinci trailed off.
"Also what?"
The genius inventor met Mash's eyes with unusual solemnity. "It suggests we may have less time than we thought. TYPE: SUN isn't waiting for us to reach out—it's already here, already watching, already judging."
As if confirming her assessment, every light in Workshop C briefly dimmed, then returned to normal—but somehow the quality of the illumination had changed, becoming more intense, more aware.
Da Vinci and Mash exchanged a glance of shared understanding. Their preparation time had just become much more urgent.
---
In the Spiritual Cultivation Garden—a section of Chaldea designed to resemble a traditional Japanese zen garden—Karna sat in perfect stillness. His eyes were closed, his legendary armor dismissed in favor of simple white clothing. Golden flames occasionally flickered around his form, but they emitted no heat, merely light.
Gawain approached quietly, respecting the meditation, and settled into a cross-legged position nearby. For several minutes, the two sun-warriors sat in companionable silence, each acknowledging the other's presence without need for words.
Finally, Karna opened his eyes, their piercing blue gaze settling on Gawain. "You are troubled, Knight of the Sun."
It wasn't a question, but Gawain nodded anyway. "I've faced dragons, demons, even gods... but never something like this. A being that embodies the very concept of solar existence."
"It makes you question your connection to the sun," Karna observed.
"Yes," Gawain admitted. "My power waxes with the sun's light—it's the core of my legend, my Noble Phantasm. But what happens when confronted with the ultimate solar entity? Will my abilities even function? Or will they be overwritten by its superior claim to solar dominion?"
Karna considered this thoughtfully. "I too draw power from solar divinity—my father Surya blessed me with his celestial flame. Yet I sense that TYPE: SUN transcends such mythological frameworks. It is not 'a sun god' but the consciousness of stellar existence itself."
As if responding to their discussion, the sunlight streaming through the garden's windows suddenly intensified, becoming almost painfully brilliant. Both warriors tensed, their divine senses detecting the unmistakable attention of something vast focusing momentarily upon them.
"It heard us," Gawain whispered, hand moving instinctively toward where his sword would materialize.
"It is aware of all solar references," Karna replied calmly, though his posture had subtly shifted to readiness. "Our very existence as sun-affiliated heroes draws its notice."
The intense light gradually returned to normal, the moment of scrutiny passing. Both warriors relaxed slightly, though the encounter left them with renewed awareness of what they faced.
"How do we communicate with something so far beyond us?" Gawain asked after a long silence.
"Perhaps that's the wrong question," Karna suggested. "Perhaps that's the wrong question," Karna suggested. "We should not ask how we communicate with it, but rather what we represent to it."
Gawain's brow furrowed. "I don't follow."
"Consider our existence," Karna explained, his measured words carrying the wisdom of divine heritage. "We are fragments of how humanity has understood the Sun throughout history—you through the lens of chivalric tradition, I through Vedic spirituality. We embody humanity's relationship with solar power across cultures and eras."
Understanding dawned in Gawain's eyes. "We're not just communicating with TYPE:SUN—we're demonstrating humanity's long-standing connection to it."
"Precisely. Our legends show that humans have always recognized the Sun's importance, even before understanding its true nature." Karna's normally impassive face showed a hint of contemplation. "Perhaps that recognition has value even to a cosmic consciousness."
As they spoke, the garden's sand began to shift, rearranging itself into geometric patterns without any visible cause. Both warriors observed in silence as perfect concentric circles formed, then transformed into spirals, then into complex mathematical forms neither could fully comprehend.
"It's listening," Karna observed quietly. "And responding in its own way."
Gawain studied the patterns with growing concern. "These formations... they resemble solar magnetic field structures, but impossibly precise."
"A form of communication beyond words," Karna agreed. "It demonstrates patterns we cannot create, while acknowledging those we can perceive."
The sand stilled suddenly, leaving one final pattern—a simplified humanoid figure surrounded by a perfect circle, the universal symbol of the sun across countless human cultures.
"A signal," Gawain murmured. "But of what?"
"Recognition," Karna replied. "It sees our perception of it, reflected back to us."
The sand collapsed back into random distribution, the moment of communication ended as abruptly as it had begun. Both warriors sat in contemplative silence, processing the implications of what they had witnessed.
"Tomorrow's mission," Gawain finally spoke, "may be beyond anything we're prepared for."
Karna nodded once. "Yes. But we must proceed regardless. The alternative is to await judgment without having spoken our piece."
---
In the Great Hall, Ozymandias had commandeered the central space, erecting a miniature version of his temple complex through his Noble Phantasm. Staff members gave the area a wide berth as the Pharaoh conducted his own preparations—a spectacular ritual that involved solar invocations in ancient Egyptian, periodic bursts of divine light, and the manifestation of various sphinxes that patrolled the perimeter.
Nitocris, fellow Egyptian Pharaoh and devoted follower of Ozymandias, assisted with the ceremony, her jackal-headed staff channeling necromantic energies that complemented his solar magic.
"The audacity of this cosmic entity," Ozymandias declared between invocations. "To claim absolute dominion over solar concepts without recognizing the divine authority of the Pharaoh!"
"It's most presumptuous, Great Pharaoh," Nitocris agreed loyally, though uncertainty tinged her voice. "Though perhaps it simply lacks understanding of your magnificence."
"Precisely!" Ozymandias laughed, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "Tomorrow's mission is not merely diplomatic—it is educational! I shall instruct this 'TYPE:SUN' in the proper hierarchical order of divinity!"
The moment these words left his lips, every light in his temple complex simultaneously extinguished, plunging the area into absolute darkness. Before either Egyptian ruler could react, the darkness was replaced by light of impossible purity—not emanating from any visible source, but simply existing, as if illumination itself had decided to manifest in its most fundamental form.
Within this perfect light, Ozymandias found his divine regalia suddenly heavy, his connection to Ra's power strained to its limit. For perhaps the first time in his existence as a Heroic Spirit, the King of Kings felt something he had never experienced before: the unmistakable sensation of being utterly outclassed in his own domain.
The light receded as suddenly as it had appeared, returning the temple to its normal illumination. Ozymandias stood perfectly still, his golden eyes wide with what might have been the closest thing to humility he had ever experienced.
"Great Pharaoh?" Nitocris questioned, concerned by his unusual silence.
Ozymandias raised a hand, his typical bombastic demeanor subdued. "It appears," he said carefully, "that the Pharaoh's approach requires... reconsideration."
From the entrance of the hall, Xuanzang Sanzang had observed the entire exchange with unusual quietude. She approached now, weaving between sphinxes with respectful rather than her usual acrobatic grace.
"Humbling, isn't it?" she said softly as she reached the Egyptian rulers. "Even Buddha spoke of greater cosmic forces beyond enlightenment itself."
Ozymandias turned to regard the monk, his imperial pride momentarily set aside. "You felt it too? This... presence?"
"Not just felt it," Sanzang replied, tapping her temple. "Saw it, in a way. Buddha-nature allows perception of fundamental reality beyond illusion. And what I glimpsed just now..." She shook her head, unable to fully articulate the experience.
"What?" demanded Nitocris. "What did you see?"
Sanzang's normally cheerful face was solemn. "Imagine the difference between a candle and the sun. Now imagine the difference between the sun and... something for which we have no comparison. That's TYPE:SUN compared to our divine connections."
"Impossible," Ozymandias muttered, though without his usual conviction. "No power exceeds divine authority to such degree."
"Not power as we conceptualize it," Sanzang corrected gently. "This is something more fundamental. The Sun doesn't 'have' power—it 'is' power. TYPE:SUN doesn't control solar concepts—it 'is' the original concept from which all solar understanding derives."
Ozymandias was silent for a long moment, his keen mind wrestling with implications that challenged the very foundation of his divinity. Finally, he spoke with unusual thoughtfulness.
"Then how does one approach such an entity? Not as an equal, clearly. Yet submission seems... inappropriate for the Pharaoh."
Sanzang smiled, her natural optimism returning. "With authenticity! That's what Buddha would advise. Be exactly what you are—a magnificent ruler who channeled solar divinity to lead your people. Your connection to solar power may be dwarfed by TYPE:SUN, but your 'experience' of ruling with that power is uniquely valuable."
"My perspective as Pharaoh," Ozymandias mused, considering this angle.
"Exactly!" Sanzang clapped her hands together. "TYPE:SUN has existed for billions of years, but it has never been a Pharaoh! Never ruled a civilization! Never used solar authority to guide humans! Your experience offers something it doesn't have."
Ozymandias straightened, his confidence returning though tempered with new awareness. "The monk speaks wisdom. The Pharaoh shall approach tomorrow's mission not to assert dominance, but to offer the unique perspective of one who has wielded solar authority in service to civilization."
Nitocris looked between them, her ears twitching with confused relief at seeing her beloved Pharaoh regain his composure.
"United in diversity!" Sanzang beamed. "Between your royal sun-god connection, Karna's divine heritage, Gawain's chivalric solar bond, and my enlightenment wisdom, we'll give TYPE:SUN a complete picture of humanity's relationship with the Sun!"
Ozymandias nodded regally. "A diplomatic approach that befits the gravity of our mission. The Pharaoh approves."
As they continued their preparations with this new perspective, none of them noticed how the shadows at the edges of the temple complex had begun moving against the light, forming intricate patterns that mirrored the hieroglyphs on Ozymandias's monuments—as if something were studying their symbolism with ancient, patient interest.
---
In his private quarters, Ritsuka Fujimaru paced restlessly, unable to find peace despite the late hour. Tomorrow's mission weighed heavily on his mind—not because he doubted the plan, but because he wouldn't be part of it. Mash would face this cosmic entity without him at her side, breaking their long-standing partnership for the first time in a truly critical moment.
He paused before the window, gazing out at the Antarctic night. The stars seemed unusually bright, their light somehow more intense than normal—as if the very fabric of space had become more conductive to stellar radiance. He couldn't help but wonder if this too was an effect of TYPE:SUN's awakening—the cosmic consciousness altering fundamental properties of reality simply by becoming self-aware.
A soft knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. When he opened it, he found Edmond Dantès leaning against the corridor wall, arms crossed.
"Your turmoil echoes through the halls, Fujimaru," the Avenger remarked. "Even I cannot ignore such resonant concern."
Ritsuka sighed, stepping back to allow Dantès entry. "Is it that obvious?"
"To those who know how to listen." Dantès entered, his cloak seeming to absorb the room's lighting. "You fear for her."
There was no need to specify who "her" was. "I should be going with them," Ritsuka said, resuming his pacing. "Mash and I have faced everything together since the beginning. My place is at her side."
"And yet fate has decreed otherwise," Dantès observed. "Sometimes the greatest test of partnership is knowing when to stand apart."
"That doesn't make it easier."
"Few worthwhile things are easy, mon ami." Dantès studied him with piercing eyes. "But consider this—perhaps your separation serves a purpose beyond tactical considerations."
Ritsuka paused. "What do you mean?"
"This entity judges humanity's worth. What better demonstration of human growth than showing Mash's evolution from the shy girl who hid behind her Master to a confident representative of humanity who stands on her own strength?"
Ritsuka considered this perspective, finding unexpected comfort in it. "You think her independence might actually strengthen our case?"
"I think," Dantès replied carefully, "that cosmic entities respect development, evolution, growth. Mash exemplifies humanity's capacity for all three." His lips curved in a rare smile. "Besides, she carries you with her always, does she not? In her heart, in her resolve. Your bond transcends physical proximity."
As he spoke, the room's temperature suddenly plummeted, frost crystallizing on the windows despite Chaldea's environmental controls. Both men tensed, immediately alert to the unnatural phenomenon. The frost patterns were not random—they formed precise geometric shapes that resembled mathematical equations of impossible complexity.
"We're being observed," Dantès stated quietly, his posture shifting subtly to defensive readiness.
"TYPE:SUN?" Ritsuka whispered.
"Most likely. It seems our conversation has drawn its attention."
The frost patterns shifted, reconfiguring into a new formation that resembled two human silhouettes connected by a line of light—a simplified representation of the bond between Ritsuka and Mash.
"It's... acknowledging what we were discussing," Ritsuka realized with astonishment. "It understands the concept of human connection."
Dantès studied the pattern with narrowed eyes. "Or it's learning to understand. Cataloging human relationships for its evaluation."
The frost melted as suddenly as it had formed, the room's temperature returning to normal. Both men stood in silence for a moment, processing the implications of what they had witnessed.
"It's everywhere," Ritsuka finally said. "Watching everything, processing every interaction. Our entire existence is under microscopic examination."
"Then we must ensure what it sees demonstrates humanity's worth," Dantès replied. "Starting with how we face this challenge—with courage, intelligence, and unity of purpose."
Ritsuka nodded, finding new resolve in the Avenger's words and the evidence that TYPE:SUN was actively observing their responses to its presence. "You're right. If it's watching, then every action we take becomes part of our case."
"Precisely." Dantès adjusted his hat. "Rest now. Tomorrow may require your strength in ways we cannot yet foresee."
After Dantès departed, Ritsuka finally found himself able to sit, his thoughts less chaotic. The Count was right—Mash had grown tremendously since their first meeting. She would face this challenge with all the courage and wisdom she had developed through their countless battles together.
And if things went wrong... well, he would find a way to reach her, no matter what cosmic forces stood in his way. That was their unspoken promise, after all.
As he prepared for sleep, the stars outside his window pulsed once in unison, as if responding to his determined thought—a reminder that something vast and ancient was watching, waiting, judging humanity's right to exist.
## CHAPTER 4: FIRST CONTACT
The Projection Chamber thrummed with power as final preparations for Project: CROWN REVERENCE reached completion. At the chamber's center, an intricate magic circle pulsed with geometric precision, its design incorporating elements from various solar mythologies—Ra's barque, Apollo's chariot, Amaterasu's mirror—all unified by mathematical principles derived from stellar formation theories.
Reality itself seemed thin within the chamber, the boundaries between conceptual and physical existence blurring as the magical energies reached unprecedented density. Several monitoring instruments had already failed, unable to process the readings they were receiving.
Mash stood at the circle's heart, the newly forged shield strapped to her arm. Unlike her usual Noble Phantasm manifestation, this shield bore unique engravings—solar runes, thermodynamic equations, and fragments of the Round Table fused into a conceptual whole. It felt impossibly heavy, not from physical mass but from the density of meaning it contained.
Surrounding her in perfect square formation, the contact team took their positions. Gawain to the North, his sunlit armor gleaming with righteous purpose; Karna to the East, divine flames dancing across his pale skin; Ozymandias to the South, golden pharaonic regalia radiating imperial authority; and Xuanzang Sanzang to the West, her staff planted firmly as her robes rippled with spiritual energy.
In the control room overlooking the chamber, Da Vinci initiated the final sequence, her fingers dancing across holographic controls as the Helioglyph activated. The crystalline device rose from its housing, suspended in mid-air as it began to pulse with increasing luminosity. Each pulse sent ripples through reality itself, creating momentary echoes that stretched beyond normal perception.
"Helioglyph transmission active," she announced. "Conceptual translation matrices at optimal resonance."
Beside her, Director Fujimaru monitored the leyline connections, his face illuminated by the azure glow of magical circuits displayed on his screens. "Leyline stability at 87% and holding. Romani's emotional frameworks integrated and responsive."
Ritsuka stood at his brother's side, hands clenched at his waist, his gaze fixed on Mash through the observation window. Holmes and Merlin flanked him, the detective analytically observing every detail while the Magus of Flowers maintained an unusually solemn expression.
"Mash, team—final status check," Director Fujimaru's voice echoed through the communication system.
"Ready," Mash replied, her voice steady despite the tension evident in her posture.
"The Sun Knight stands prepared," declared Gawain, Excalibur Galatine humming with subdued power at his side.
"I am aligned," stated Karna simply, his gaze already distant as if looking beyond physical reality.
"The King of Kings grants his divine presence to this endeavor," announced Ozymandias, solar hieroglyphs materializing in the air around him.
"This humble monk will carry Buddha's wisdom into the light," said Sanzang with a determined smile, twirling her staff once before settling into perfect stillness.
Lord El-Melloi II, monitoring the thaumaturgical equations, gave a terse nod. "All parameters within acceptable tolerances. We're as ready as we'll ever be."
Director Fujimaru took a deep breath. "Initiate full projection in three... two... one..."
Da Vinci activated the final sequence, and blinding light erupted from the magic circle as the team's consciousness surged along the leylines, accelerating toward the Sun at the speed of thought. The physical bodies of the contact team remained in place, but their spiritual essence stretched across the 93 million miles between Earth and Sun, guided by the Great Leyline Alignment.
For Mash, the experience was disorienting beyond description. She felt simultaneously present in Chaldea and extending through space, her perception fragmenting and reforming as the projection stabilized. Colors she had no names for washed through her consciousness, and concepts too vast for human minds to grasp flickered at the edges of her awareness.
Then, abruptly, they were *there*—not physically, but as conceptual avatars hovering at the boundary of the solar corona. Before them stretched the unimaginable vastness of the Sun, its surface a churning ocean of plasma and magnetic storms that dwarfed anything Earth could produce.
*"By the Round Table..."* Gawain's voice echoed in their shared consciousness, awe overwhelming even his knightly composure.
*"Even in the Mahabharata, such majesty was not described,"* Karna added, his mental voice uncharacteristically reverent.
*"The Pharaoh is... impressed,"* admitted Ozymandias, the usual bombast tempered by genuine wonder.
Sanzang simply radiated wordless appreciation, her Buddhist perspective uniquely suited to comprehending the sublime scale of cosmic existence.
*"Helioglyph transmission at maximum,"* came Da Vinci's voice, distant yet clear in their shared consciousness. *"We're broadcasting our introduction and peaceful intent on all conceptual frequencies."*
For several tense moments, nothing happened. The Sun continued its eternal processes, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Then, something changed.
The plasma flows began to organize, currents shifting in impossible patterns that defied thermodynamics. A vast shape took form—not physical, but a distortion in the very fabric of solar reality. The sheer conceptual mass of what was manifesting threatened to overwhelm their projected consciousness, the Helioglyph struggling to translate a presence so vast it exceeded its design parameters.
*"It's responding,"* whispered Sanzang, her spiritual perception most attuned to subtle energies.
The shape continued to evolve, becoming more defined, more precise. A massive humanoid figure composed of pure solar essence coalesced before them, dwarfing their avatars like a mountain before ants. Its features were indistinct, constantly shifting in the plasma, but its attention was unmistakably focused on them.
Where a face should be, only radiance too bright to perceive directly. Around its head, a burning nuclear corona shaped like a many-pointed sun, with orbiting star-rings symbolizing stellar mass. From its back extended seven arcs of stellar plasma that resembled melting time itself, each one corresponding to a fundamental law—heat, light, decay, pressure, truth, time, and entropy.
Even as projected consciousness rather than physical bodies, the contact team felt the crushing weight of TYPE:SUN's attention—a force that could have instantly annihilated their actual forms had they been physically present. Only Mash's shield, specifically designed for this encounter, created a buffer zone of conceptual stability that allowed them to maintain coherence in its presence.
*"Projection stable,"* reported El-Melloi's distant voice, though there was a tremor in it now. *"But we're detecting massive conceptual pressure. Shield status?"*
"Holding," Mash replied, though she could feel her shield vibrating with strain as it processed the overwhelming conceptual mass before them. The shield's engravings glowed white-hot as they attempted to translate and distribute the immense pressure of TYPE:SUN's presence.
For another long moment, the solar entity simply observed them, its cosmic attention cataloging every aspect of their existence with dispassionate thoroughness. Then, without warning, it spoke—not in words, but in concepts that burned themselves directly into their consciousness:
**YOU HAVE BEEN SEEN.**
The message carried no detectable emotion, merely factual acknowledgment of their presence. The impact was nonetheless staggering, causing their projected forms to flicker momentarily as the raw conceptual force of direct communication threatened to overwhelm their connection.
*"Maintain focus!"* Ozymandias commanded, his divine authority helping stabilize their connection despite his own evident struggle. *"We stand before greatness, but we do not cower!"*
Mash stepped forward, her avatar raising the shield in a gesture meant to convey both respect and determination.
"We are representatives of humanity," she projected, the Helioglyph translating her thoughts into stellar language. "We seek understanding and peaceful communication with you."
The entity seemed to consider this, its vast form shifting as stellar processes reconfigured in response to their communication. The temperature of the surrounding solar plasma increased by millions of degrees, though their projected forms registered this only as conceptual data rather than physical sensation.
**YOUR SPECIES RADIATES CONTRADICTION. STATE YOUR PURPOSE, OR BURN AS THEORY.**
The terrible simplicity of the ultimatum sent ripples of fear through the contact team. The concept of "burning as theory" translated into their understanding as something far worse than mere physical destruction—the complete erasure of humanity's conceptual existence, as if they had never been more than a passing thought in the cosmic mind.
Ozymandias moved forward, his regal bearing undiminished even in this context, though his projected form visibly strained against the pressure of TYPE:SUN's presence.
*"We are the dominant species of the third planet,"* he declared. *"We have evolved through countless cycles to achieve consciousness and civilization. We create, we destroy, we love, we hate—we exist in complexity."*
**COMPLEXITY IS NOT PURPOSE. CONTRADICTION WITHOUT RESOLUTION IS ENTROPY.**
Karna spoke next, his measured tones carrying the weight of divine wisdom. *"Our contradictions are our strength. Through the tension of opposites, we grow and evolve. Our purpose is to understand the universe—including you."*
The solar entity shifted, its form expanding slightly as if in consideration. Then, without warning, it extended a massive limb composed of plasma and conceptual force. Before anyone could react, it touched Mash's shield.
In an instant, Mash's mind was flooded with images, knowledge, sensations—billions of years of solar existence compressed into a moment of contact. She saw the Sun's birth from cosmic dust, felt its ongoing fusion processes as heartbeats, experienced its gradual evolution and inevitable future death. Most shockingly, she glimpsed the nature of the entity itself—not a god, not an alien, but a manifestation of stellar consciousness that had always existed within the Sun, gradually awakening over eons until the Great Leyline Alignment had finally completed its emergence.
She witnessed its power—immeasurable by conventional standards. She understood suddenly that all other cosmic entities combined would require only a fraction of its true power to be defeated. At full strength, it could erase the solar system and rewrite its physical constants in seconds. Magic itself spontaneously burned away into pure mathematics in its presence. The concepts of life and death held no meaning at its scale—only transformation and the perfect application of thermodynamic law.
As suddenly as it began, the contact ended. Mash staggered backward, her projected form flickering dangerously as her mind struggled to process the information overload. Gawain moved to support her, his knightly instincts transcending even the shock of their situation.
*"Mash! Status report!"* came Fujimaru's urgent voice, distorted by the strain on their connection.
"I'm... I'm alright," she managed, though her consciousness reeled from the information overload. "It was... communicating. Showing me..."
Before she could elaborate, the entity spoke again, the concepts burning even more intensely into their awareness:
**I SEE YOUR NATURE NOW. YOU ARE EPHEMERAL COMPLEXITY. BRIEF FLAMES IN VOID.**
It paused, as if considering the appropriate response, the corona around its head pulsing with calculations beyond human comprehension.
**I WILL JUDGE YOUR RIGHT TO PERSIST.**
With that pronouncement, the entity's form began to dissolve back into the general solar mass. But as it faded, one final message burned itself into their awareness with devastating clarity:
**I WILL COME TO YOU.**
The projection suddenly destabilized, the leyline connection collapsing under some enormous conceptual pressure that shattered the carefully calculated pathways. In a disorienting rush, the contact team found themselves back in Chaldea's Projection Chamber, physically unharmed but mentally shaken to their core.
Ozymandias and Gawain fell to their knees, their divine and chivalric connections to solar power overwhelmed by proximity to the original source. Karna remained standing but visibly strained, golden flames flickering erratically around his form as his divine essence struggled to reestablish equilibrium. Only Sanzang seemed relatively stable, her Buddhist detachment providing some insulation against the conceptual shock.
Alarms blared throughout the facility as monitoring systems registered an unprecedented spike in solar activity. Reality itself seemed to thin around them, the air taking on a strange quality of heightened definition—as if everything had suddenly become more real than reality should allow.
"What's happening?" demanded Director Fujimaru as technicians scrambled to interpret the readings that were causing their instruments to fail in cascading sequence.
Da Vinci's face had gone pale as she stared at the central monitor, which displayed impossible data before cracking down its center. "Director," she said quietly, "something is coming from the Sun. Not plasma or energy, but... conceptual mass. It's on a direct trajectory for Earth."
On the few remaining functional screens, a golden point of light detached itself from the Sun's corona and began moving toward them—faster than light, faster than thought, faster than the conceptual framework of space-time itself.
"How long?" asked Fujimaru, his voice steady despite the terror evident in his eyes.
Da Vinci's answer was barely audible over the alarms. "It's already here."
As if confirming her assessment, daylight visible through Chaldea's observatory dome suddenly shifted quality—not dimming or brightening, but becoming somehow more fundamental, more essential, more aware. Every shadow in the facility simultaneously deepened, gaining impossible definition, while colors intensified to almost painful brilliance.
Reality itself seemed to hold its breath as something vast and ancient turned its full attention to Earth for the first time since the planet's formation.
The trial of humanity had begun.
## CHAPTER 5: THE STELLAR JUDGE
The sky above Chaldea changed.
It wasn't a physical transformation—the blue remained blue, the clouds still white—but something fundamental shifted in the quality of daylight itself. Shadows deepened, gaining impossible definition. Colors intensified to almost painful brilliance. And the sunlight... the sunlight felt aware.
Observatory instruments detected no anomalies in the electromagnetic spectrum, yet every human and Servant in Chaldea felt the change viscerally—a presence watching from above, attention focused like a magnifying glass over ants.
In the command center, chaos reigned as systems responded to phenomena they weren't designed to measure. Several staff members collapsed, blood trickling from their noses and ears as their minds struggled to process the conceptual density suddenly permeating reality.
"Conceptual density in the upper atmosphere is off the charts," reported Dr. Chen, her scientific training straining against the impossibility of her readings. "It's like... like reality is being compressed by observation."
Director Fujimaru turned to Mash, who had just arrived from the infirmary where she'd been examined after the contact attempt. "What did you sense during the connection? What is this thing?"
Mash struggled to translate the vast download of information she'd received into comprehensible terms. "It's... it's like the Sun developed self-awareness," she explained haltingly. "Not overnight, but gradually, over billions of years. The Great Leyline Alignment simply completed its awakening."
"An Ultimate One," murmured Da Vinci. "Like the legendary Types mentioned in ancient texts—conceptual ultimate beings representing planetary consciousness."
"But the Sun isn't a planet," objected El-Melloi.
"No," agreed Da Vinci. "It's much more powerful. It's... it's beyond anything in our conceptual framework. Its mere attention could erase us from existence."
Further discussion was interrupted as every screen in the command center simultaneously went blank, then filled with a single message:
**ATTEND**
The message wasn't in any human language, yet everyone understood it perfectly—not just intellectually, but with bone-deep comprehension that bypassed normal cognitive processes. Several staff members immediately collapsed unconscious, their minds unable to process direct conceptual communication of such magnitude.
"It wants our attention," translated Holmes unnecessarily. "I suggest we comply."
Director Fujimaru nodded grimly. "All personnel to the observation deck. Now."
The observation deck was Chaldea's crown jewel—a vast transparent dome atop the mountain facility, offering an unobstructed view of the Himalayan sky. As staff and Servants gathered beneath it, the daylight continued to intensify, focusing like a spotlight directly above the dome.
Then, without warning or transition, he appeared.
Not a physical manifestation, but a figure walking across the daylight sky—a golden humanoid form of indeterminate gender, proportioned like a classical statue but composed entirely of living light. Where a face should be, only radiance too bright to look at directly. Its movements were simultaneously fluid and precise, as if time itself bent slightly around its form.
Everyone present felt its attention sweep over them—not hostile, but utterly alien in its perspective. Being noticed by it felt like being categorized down to the atomic level, every particle of one's being briefly catalogued and assessed. Several more staff members collapsed from the conceptual pressure, their minds overwhelmed.
Then it spoke—not in sound waves, but in concepts that rewrote themselves directly into memory, bypassing the ears entirely:
**YOU HAVE BEEN SEEN. YOUR SPECIES RADIATES CONTRADICTION. STATE YOUR PURPOSE, OR BURN AS THEORY.**
The message echoed exactly what it had told the contact team, but now delivered with the full weight of its presence. The sheer conceptual density of the communication caused reality to ripple visibly, like heat waves distorting air.
Director Fujimaru stepped forward, looking up at the impossible figure. Despite the terror that must have filled him, his voice remained steady—a testament to years facing existential threats. "I am Director Godfrey Fujimaru of Chaldea. We are representatives of humanity. We seek peaceful coexistence and understanding."
The golden figure tilted its radiant head, as if considering this inadequate response. The movement caused strange afterimages to trail behind it—not visual artifacts, but temporal ones, as if it existed partly outside normal time flow.
**EXISTENCE REQUIRES JUSTIFICATION. COMPLEXITY WITHOUT PURPOSE IS WASTE ENTROPY. YOUR KIND CONSUMES AND CONTRADICTS. WHY SHOULD YOUR FLAME CONTINUE?**
The brutal simplicity of the question silenced everyone. How do you justify humanity's right to exist to a stellar consciousness?
Cu Chulainn, standing near the back with Scáthach, muttered under his breath. "This thing wants us to justify our existence? Who made it judge and jury?"
"Hush," Scáthach warned, her face unnaturally pale. "It hears everything, even thoughts."
As if confirming her warning, the golden figure's attention briefly shifted toward the Celtic heroes, causing them both to stiffen under the weight of its regard. Scáthach—immortal, beyond death, ruler of the Land of Shadows—visibly trembled as the entity's attention brushed against her existence.
**ALL IS SUBJECT TO THERMODYNAMIC LAW. EVEN GODS. EVEN DEATH.**
The declaration wasn't threatening—merely a statement of cosmic fact. Yet its implications sent chills through everyone present. If even the concepts of divinity and mortality were subordinate to this entity's domain, what hope did humanity have of asserting its right to exist?
Unexpectedly, it was Ritsuka who broke the tense silence, moving to stand beside his brother. "We create," he said simply. "We take the raw materials of existence and transform them into meaning. Art, music, literature, science—these are our answers to entropy."
The figure seemed to consider this, its solar corona pulsing with what might have been interest.
**CREATION IS TEMPORARY. ALL RETURNS TO VOID.**
"But the act of creation itself has value," countered Ritsuka. "The process, not just the result."
Mash stepped forward, her shield still strapped to her arm. "May I speak?" she asked, her quiet voice somehow carrying in the hushed silence.
The golden figure's attention focused on her with almost physical force. Reality around Mash warped slightly, light bending toward her as TYPE:SUN concentrated its perception on the one who had served as conduit during first contact.
**YOU WERE THE CONDUIT. SPEAK.**
Mash took a deep breath, then raised her shield—not defensively, but as a visual aid. "This shield contains fragments of humanity's understanding of the Sun throughout our history. First we worshipped you as a god. Then we studied you as a star. Now we encounter you as a consciousness."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. "We are continuously evolving in our understanding. That's our purpose—to comprehend the universe in ever more accurate ways. Our contradictions exist because we are works in progress, constantly revising our models of reality."
The figure descended slightly, its radiance dimming enough that people could look at it without pain. The action wasn't one of submission but of focused attention—like a scientist adjusting a microscope to better examine a specimen.
**EVOLUTION OF UNDERSTANDING IS VALID PURPOSE. BUT YOUR KIND ALSO DESTROYS. CONSUMES. WARS. POLLUTES.**
"Yes," admitted Mash. "We are imperfect. But we strive to be better. That striving itself—that recognition of our flaws and attempt to transcend them—that is uniquely human."
Da Vinci stepped forward to join them, her genius mind perhaps best equipped to communicate with a cosmic intellect. "Consider the mathematical beauty