2 Master Candidate?

Romani sat across from Nichloas and massaged his forehead, "You punched him and... that happened." He pointed at the pointy eared man cleanly embedded in metal. The doctor looked to the staff outside, "Please try to get him out of there... and somebody inform the Director."

"Yeah, I punched him and that happened." The unruly teenager mimicked his tone, "I don't know what the norm here is but where I come from, you just don't caress a man's face. And I don't think interrogators are allowed to act like two dime who-... Nevermind." He crossed his arms and raised his head to stare directly at Romani with curious purple eyes.

Romani sighed, "I see." He then turned to look at the staff who were still idly standing around, "What are you waiting for? Please remove Beryl from the wall."


The collective hesitation made the doctor sigh again, he got it, he really did but they had jobs to do. Nobody wanted to touch human trash but they'd signed up for it themselves.

"I say let him stick there for a while, so we can see where his confidence comes from." The one who spoke was Nicholas.

Romani couldn't stop sighing if he tried, "He's... not meant to be here in the first place."

But well, when you lived in a world where sick fucks who tortured and killed for shits and giggles, and children were prime material for experimentation, you developed a certain resistance to all sorts of bullshit.

So it didn't take long for Romani Archaman to let go of his surprise and turn to look at the intruder in all seriousness, "I'm Romani Archaman, you can call me Roman." He politely introduced himself, "Now, do you know why you're here?"

Chaldea's Headquarters were based at the centre of Antarctica, people didn't just 'pop' out of nowhere without knowing about them.

Nicholas stopped at his words, looked at the two people trying to pry Beryl off the wall, and then with unexpectedly grave seriousness, he started eyeballing the doctor.


"It's cause I'm black."

"I see..." Romani nodded but realised something was wrong and tilted his head in genuine confusion, "Wait what? No, you're n-... What?" The doctor facepalmed, he'd never met someone like this before.

Cause you know, theirs was an organisation with the fate of the world riding on them.

"Can you please be serious?"

Nicholas chuckled and straightened himself, sitting like a proper human being. He then spoke one word, one word to explain everything, one word to bare all truths, one to rule them al-*ehem*


Romani straightened his back at the name, "The Wizard Marshall?"

And it did explain everything.

The fact that the weather had been disturbed by a hole in the clouds, the snow had been cleared, the sheer eccentricity of the individual before him.

Nicholas nodded, slightly smirking when he noticed the Doctor's dilemma, "You can ask him if you want."

"Ah..." One did not just 'ask' the Wizard Marshall, and in doing so risk disturbing someone known for messing around with complete disregard for rules, claiming rules were made to be broken when he was one of the people who made them, "I see."

"You people seem to see a lot." Nicholas narrowed his eyes, all these people were saying that a little too often.

"...Then I guess you must be our last Master candidate?" Romani asked hopefully, the quote would be met then and they could stop their search. Also because he hoped this action of Zelretch's was a straightforward one.

The teenager shook his head more furiously than the doctor thought possible, "No, no, no, no. I think there's one more."

"But with you we would have all we need."

"You sure about that?" Nicholas gestured to the unresponsive Beryl, still stuck in the wall, "You really sure about that?"


Olga Marie Animusphere was the Director of the Chaldea Security Organisation, taking the position after the predecessor, her own father, had... regrettably lost his life.

She'd been in her office, working away like she was most of the time, being the diligent woman she was, when Doctor Roman had notified her that a possible Master Candidate had been dropped off at Chaldea.

She brushed aside a bang of her olive hair as she walked hastily to the medical ward.

As Director, she had a duty to the people that worked under her and a Master, who'd be fighting on the frontlines soon, deserved that she at least met them once, to greet them.

They had the right.

It definitely wasn't because her staff had kicked her out of the staff on the totally unbased claims that she was overworking herself.

Of course those thoughts went right out the window when she reached the clinic and the metal door slid away, revealing a sight she... She honestly didn't know how to react to.

"Get that goddamn syringe away from me, you monster!"

"It's just one prick, it doesn't even hurt! Please let me take a blood sample!"

"I always thought it was a joke but not anymore, you gingers have no souls! I'm gonna punch you if you don't get away from me!"

A pale haired teenager was hanging in one of the corners of the room like a...spider, elevating himself by pushing against the ceiling and walls with his hands and feet... How had he...

"How did... he even manage that?" The words left her lips before she could notice.

"D...Director!" Romani Archaman straightened up immediately, afraid of her alleged harshness, "That is Nicholas Martel." He pointed at the teenager who winked at her, "He's put Beryl Gut in a coma, on account of brain dama-"

"Screw him, he deserves it. Didn't his mother teach him anything?"

"His file says he killed his mother after she raised him." Romani stared at his boss with a look that said he wasn't sorry at all.

Nicholas deadpanned at him, "How am I the bad guy here?"

"...Most of the staff is praising your actions, but I don't like how nonchalant you are about this. He was a member of A-team." Olga answered his question sternly, maintaining a professional visage even if she personally didn't want to rebuke him.

Beryl Gut was human trash.

"I'm so sorry for putting a serial killer and would be rapist in a coma."

Well, it was just how unbothered he wa-

"I should've killed him."

...Olga was left speechless.

"Actually doc, where's he at?" Nicholas looked at Romani, who hesitantly looked at Olga.

"Do not answer that question."

"Lady, I'mma give you a warning cause you're smoking hot and trying to be professional but, I'm not above punching the shit out of you."

"W...What?" Olga Marie Animusphere was a woman who spent all her time at work, was given no recognition for her work as she grew up, and thought of as underperforming by her peers, they compared her to her father's star pupil, claiming she should be disinherited.

In the face of such blatant and vulgarly honest praise, the fair-skinned woman flushed prominently, momentarily short-circuiting.

"...Hey doc, does she have daddy issues?"

Romani Archaman slowly, very carefully nodded his head in affirmation.

"I-I do not!"

The Director slammed the door in their faces and ran away with wet eyes.

"I-I think that's that first time someone's managed to drive away the Director before she blows her top." One of the passing staff commented with wide eyes, looking at the newest Master candidate with newfound admiration, "Gotta tell the others!"

"Wai-" The man bolted away before Romani could speak further and the doctor sighed, "There goes my attempt at preserving her dignity."

 "I... feel kinda bad." Nicholas rubbed the back of his head, and Romani took the opportunity to withdraw a sample of blood for testing, "Did you jus-... Oh you son of a bi-"

"Think of it as punishment for making Chaldea's beloved Director cry. Besides, it didn't hurt, d-did it?" Romani smiled sheepishly, walking backwards as Nicholas walked forward, his fist pulled back. The doctor rushed to a machine and put in the blood sample, "T-There! Great! You're compatible!"

Romani shrunk backwards, "Please don't hurt me, I still want to watch more Magi Mari."

"...What's that?"

"It's this really cute streamer idol! She's really interesting to watch." The doctor spoke with passion, momentarily forgetting his situation but then noticed Nicholas' eyes, "W...Why are you looking at me like I'm human trash?"


Writing this is therapeutic.

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