'If violence isn't solving all your problems, you simply aren't using enough of it.' Shitty day at work cause your boss wants you to do overtime? Punch him. Kids giving you problems? Punch 'em. Supernatural entities trying to fuck with you? Punch 'em. Demon Gods trying to destroy to humanity? Punch the ever-living shit out of 'em. Nicholas Martel is the sort of man who can and will solve any and all problems by beating the shit out of them. Young masters and even tsunderes beware, his hands are rated e for absolutely everyone.

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Nicholas walked through one of Chaldea's many corridors, refraining from commenting on the repetitively minimalistic design sense of the previous Director, "...No wonder he killed himself." He'd do it too if he had to live in this place for years on end but he'd probably punch down one of the walls and escape.

He glanced at Romani walking by his side with a clipboard and pursed his lips. There was something he needed to say to the doctor, but whether or not that was the right thing to do was up in the air. He considered the lazing and eccentric head of the medical apartment a friend.

Sure the guy spent most of his time lazing around aside from the Master medical checks which he did himself but, he backed Nicholas up most of the time and talking to him was a good way to pass the time, not to mention the stories that came from the man's travels around the world.

"Hey doc, what was that deal with ...Pepe, knowing where I'm from." Nicholas asked curiously, easing into the conversation he wanted to have, "I'm pretty sure I haven't given any information yet."

Romani tilted his head before understanding flashed in his eyes, "Oh yeah, I ran your blood remember? We do need to make a proper report to the Mage's Association and the UN even if the Wizard Marshall sent you here."

"I guess..." It was times like these that made Nicholas regret not delving deeper into the works that made up TYPE-MOON but was it really his fault?

He was the type to watch and read for passing enjoyment, not to spend hours connecting dots and trying to understand just what the fuck he was looking at. How was he supposed to know he'd end up dropping into the universe after a short nap?

Was this one of those things where a person took over a parallel version of themselves?

Nicholas didn't know, he didn't much care at the moment either.

"By the way, it did help you out a ton, being a cowboy I mean." Romani waved around a metaphorical rope in the air, slightly smiling, "The US is all too happy to have one of their own as a Master. The Clock Tower can't touch you because of the Wizard Marshall... and well, I tampered a bit with the information, your origins don't matter. Chaldea, Humanity needs people like you."

Nicholas scratched the back of his head, "Gotchu, doc... There's something else too."

"Ask away." The Doctor encouraged the teenager, before greeting one of the passing staff members and returning his attention to Nicholas.

"...About Magi Mari..." Nicholas averted his gaze, avoiding Romani's serene smile, "It might be a hot chick. I'm sorry about what happened last time." The guy was helping him out so much, it wasn't in Nicholas' code to be an asshole to him.

"It's fine."


"It's fine, Nicholas. It doesn't matter."

Nicholas took a step away from Romani, staring at him in alarm, "What do you mean, it doesn't matter? It matters more than anything." He didn't know why, but the Doctor's wise and sagely smile was deeply unsettling.

"After spending the night crying about false, banal concepts. I came to see the truth." Romani held up a fist, extremely determined, "It doesn't matter if Magi Mari is a man or a woman. It's Magi Mari to me."

Nicholas looked down at his trembling hands as his eyes slowly lost their light, "W...What have I done?"

"You helped me see the truth..." Romani patted his shoulder, smiling brightly, "Thank you."

That bright smile, those shining eyes... were the most terrifying fucking things Nicholas had seen since his arrival.


Nicholas tapped his fingers on the metal table he was sitting at, trying to push away his encounter with Doctor Roman earlier during the day.

"So why are we here?"

The two people that sat across from him were stark reminders of just why this world was considered so fucked up by many people. The blonde Kirschtaria Wodime, was one of the best magi in the world.

For that, his own father tried to have him killed cause he outdid the useless retard and then his saviour, a stray orphan who nursed him back to health from death's door, died of malnutrition and injury because someone beat the shit out of a kid for stealing a loaf of bread, so that he could give it to the injured Kirschtaria.

The end result was his magic circuits, something that was extremely important for standing as a magus as he'd come to learn, being crippled.

The badass son of a bitch still went on to become one of the greatest magi in the world, all while keeping a gentle and compassionate heart.

Nicholas' gaze then moved to his assistant, Ophelia Phamrsolone.

A girl that was tortured and experimented on by her own parents throughout her own childhood to make her 'better', destroying her confidence and making her a traumatised recluse for fear of being abandoned and hurt again.

Romani had told him all this and Nicholas didn't really doubt the man, he didn't seem like the type to do that.

"Beryl Gut..." Kirschtaria started, disarmingly placing both hands on the table between them, "I had decided I would place my trust in him." He held up a hand to placate Ophelia who'd opened her mouth and Nicholas who'd all but leapt across the table to murk him, "But, his actions with you, his previous history, have made me realise it was merely my foolish wish to trust him as a comrade despite my better judgement, that even he could change."

Nicholas tilted his head, "Shouldn't you be angry with me then?" It didn't take a genius to figure out he was referring to the first part of what the leader of the A-Team had said.

"Logically, yes..." Kirschtaria closed his eyes and inhaled before continuing coolly, "He tried to attack Miss Mash again, perhaps knowing that you would attack him once you learnt of his awakening."

Ophelia nodded her head in silent agreement when the metal creaked and bent under Nicholas' grip, "I can see why no one told me..." He didn't like that, at all. He'd seen the innocent girl going about her day on several occasions.

What the hell had the withdrawn and poor marshmallow done to deserve that?

"He deserved it." Nicholas heard Ophelia speak clearly for the first time, "He was a twisted man with no excuse for his actions."

"Scandnavia Peperoncino has personally attested to your strength. Your rayshift compatibility and personal combat prowess exceeds Beryl's, and I wish to tell you I agree with the Director's decision to assign you to the A-Team." That was what he'd been called here for, "Though many of the nobility will disagree."

It was no secret that most of the Chaldean Masters were nobility from the magus world, it made sense considering one's lineage directly influenced their talent and compatibility but there were always exceptions.

"I will deal with them, as your leader."

"Man, you're way damn cooler than I thought you'd be." Nicholas relaxed back into his chair, "I had you pegged for an upstuck ass."

"You did? Is my behaviour not merely what I must do?" The A-Team Leader asked calmly, displaying no emotion on his face.

Nicholas deadpanned, genuinely wondering whether Kirschtaria was fucking with him, "My last boss was a lazy asshole that just gave his work to us and threatened to fire us if we didn't do it."

"I trust you reported him?"

"I punched him."

"You did? Is that what you're meant to do? Not report?"

"Course you punch the guy that abuses his authority." Nicholas smiled as much as his frozen face allowed him and held up a balled up fist.

"You are? I see."

Ophelia, standing behind Kirschtaria, pursed her lips and forced herself not to facepalm.

"I understand now why you keep punching Professor Lev."

Mostly because she knew Kirschtaria Wodime, the magus genius of the century, was taking all the new master's words at face value.

"Hey, I'm beginning to like you more and more."

Also because she knew full well the new master meant every single one of his words too.

"That is good."

Ophelia Phamrsolone was left at a loss for words at the sheer lack of cunning both men displayed.


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