The False servant

Swoosh…

The sea breeze blew gently, caressing my face with its familiar coolness. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the salty air of the ocean fill my lungs. Though the sky was still tinged with the orange hues of the rising sun, the water's surface shimmered like a sea of gemstones.

When I opened my eyes again, the sight before me was the wooden deck of a large ship, now completely under my control. The remnants of battle were still evident—broken swords, snapped ropes, and barrels toppled over from the fierce fight. At the center of the ship, a group of ragged men with faces covered in cuts and bruises sat slumped against the main mast, their bodies tightly bound by ropes I had secured myself.

These pirates had thought they could defeat me just because I was alone. Unfortunately for them, reality did not align with their expectations.

I slowly flexed my fingers, feeling the lingering sensation in my muscles after the fight. The movements I had just executed… they weren't entirely my own. I was merely imitating what I had done before when mimicking Artoria and Jack the Ripper.

Jack's high-speed footwork, used to vanish from sight?

I mimicked it to dodge attacks and strike back with precision.

Artoria's sharp and decisive sword swings?

I used that technique to cut down my enemies' weapons and disable them in an instant.

None of them could match my speed. Every attack they launched, every attempt they made to defend themselves—it was all in vain. Their swords struck only empty air, while I was already behind them before they even realized it.

I stared at my right hand, which was still trembling slightly from the brief battle. Even after countless fights, there was something undeniably thrilling about using The Act of Imitating—my Noble Phantasm. The sensation of becoming someone else, of feeling their movements and skills flow through me, was something I couldn't put into words.

Suddenly, the sound of taut ropes creaking snapped me back to reality. One of the tied-up pirates dared to speak, though his voice was laced with fear.

"W-Who… who are you… really?"

I gazed at him for a moment before giving a faint smile.

"Just someone passing through."

The pirate swallowed hard, still visibly shaken by what had just transpired. I turned my gaze toward the open sea. The waves rolled gently, as if they too were witnesses to this event.

Now, only one question remained…

What should I do with this ship?

Ah, but before that… Should I explain how I ended up on this pirate vessel?

Alright, I suppose now is a good time to rewind the events.

~~~

Throne of Heroes.

I stared at that throne with a bored expression. I had lost count of how many times I had looked at that empty seat.

In this place—the Throne of Heroes—time meant nothing. It was an endless space filled with the existence of Heroic Spirits, all waiting for their turn to be summoned into the human world.

I was used to this situation. As a Servant without a contracted Master, all I could do was wait until the world needed my presence again.

And yet… I couldn't help but keep staring at that throne.

If only I had a physical body, I would've already sat there in a cool, regal pose—like a king observing his kingdom. Even though the throne looked a bit dusty, its form remained majestic and dignified.

I even started imagining myself sitting there—one hand propping up my chin, legs crossed with confidence.

"Heh, not bad."

But just as I was indulging in my ridiculous fantasy, something happened.

Bzzzttt…!!!

Suddenly, a blue magic circle appeared, surrounding me. I only needed a single glance to understand what was happening.

It's was a summoning Circle.

It seemed Alaya had prepared a new task for me.

I smirked slightly.

Whatever kind of Singularity I would be facing this time, I was ready.

Within seconds, the blue light began spinning faster. Its glow became so bright that the entire world around me was swallowed by a blinding white radiance.

And when the light finally faded…

The first thing I saw was an endless stretch of water.

The ocean.

Vast, deep, and infinite. As if this world consisted of nothing but water and an endless sky.

The sea breeze blew softly, causing my hair to sway slightly. The air around me carried the distinct salty aroma of the ocean, mixed with a dampness that clung to my skin.

I lowered my gaze and realized something strange.

I was… standing on a small rowboat.

The boat looked quite old, made of slightly worn-out wood, but still sturdy enough to float. However, there were no signs of life here. No fishing rods, no nets—completely empty except for a pair of oars lying on the boat's floor.

I looked around, searching for any clues.

No land. No islands.

I was truly in the middle of the open sea… completely alone.

But just as I thought that, my eyes caught something in the distance.

A large ship with a skull flag fluttering atop its main mast.

…Pirates.

I let out a quiet chuckle.

So, this was the Singularity I had to deal with this time?

I picked up both oars and began rowing. Though this wasn't my first time handling an oar, the sensation still felt somewhat unfamiliar. A Servant's body was strong, but even so, rowing in the middle of the vast ocean like this felt like a futile effort.

But it didn't matter.

I just needed to reach that ship and assess the situation.

The water rippled around me as the small boat started moving forward—slowly but surely. The waves weren't too high, making it easier for me to steer the boat in the right direction.

The closer I got to the ship, the clearer its details became.

Sturdy dark wood, massive sails billowing in the wind, and the noisy chatter from the deck—the loud voices of pirates laughing and talking boisterously.

I took a deep breath.

Alright.

Let's begin the game.

So, in short, after that, I took down those unfortunate pirates one by one, defeating them before they even had the chance to fight back. Their swords struck only empty air, their bullets missed their mark, and before they even realized what had happened, they were already sprawled out on the deck, completely helpless.

And now—this ship belonged to me.

~~~

Back to the Present.

I stared at the pirates still tied to the main mast. Their faces were pale, their bodies trembled, and most of them didn't even dare to look me in the eye.

"…You all look like you've just seen a ghost."

No one answered.

They only hung their heads, perhaps still unable to accept the reality that their ship had been taken over by a single person—and worse, they couldn't do anything to stop it.

I leaned against the ship's railing, gazing at the horizon. The sea stretched vast and endless, the wind carrying the familiar salty scent. The only sounds were the waves crashing against the ship's hull and the sails fluttering in the wind.

So, what now?

I had a few choices.

The first: throw them into the sea.

But… I wasn't the type to be that cruel.

The second: abandon them on a deserted island.

But that would be too easy for them. I wanted something more… interesting.

I crossed my arms and thought deeper.

Honestly, being a pirate seemed pretty cool.

Life at sea, boundless freedom, unpredictable adventures—there was something fascinating about it.

But…

I didn't like the idea of killing innocent people or raiding ships without reason. If I had to become a pirate, then I wanted to be a pirate with my own rules.

I sighed, then turned toward the pirates still kneeling in fear.

"Alright, I've made my decision."

They stiffened, waiting for their sentence.

I stepped forward, looking at them one by one.

The pirates exchanged uneasy glances, their bodies still tense as they awaited my verdict. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the distant crash of waves against the hull.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I've made my decision."

They braced themselves.

"I'm not taking any of you."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the pirates looked as if they hadn't heard me correctly. Their expressions twisted with confusion, a few blinking in disbelief.

"You'll leave this ship," I continued, my voice firm. "Take the small boat I arrived in and get out of here. I don't care where you go, but this ship belongs to me now."

A murmur rippled through them, but none dared to argue. Whether it was fear, shock, or begrudging acceptance, I didn't care.

"You should be grateful," I added, crossing my arms. "I could've thrown you overboard. Or worse."

They hesitated for only a moment longer before scrambling to their feet, stumbling toward the deck. Some looked back at me, perhaps wondering why I spared them, but I gave them no further explanation.

One by one, they climbed into the small boat. The former captain, his face tight with something between anger and relief, was the last to step in. He lingered for a moment, gripping the edge of the boat as if debating saying something, but in the end, he simply cast one final glance at the ship before pushing off.

I watched them drift away, the ocean swallowing their presence as the waves carried them toward the unknown.

Now, standing alone on the deck of my newly claimed ship, I took a slow, deep breath and gazed at the endless horizon before me. The scent of salt filled my lungs, the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the hull echoed in my ears, and the morning sun cast a golden glow upon the vast ocean stretching as far as the eye could see.

No crew. No chains of the past. No obligations.

Just me, the sea, and the adventure ahead.

A slow grin crept onto my face. This was a rare kind of freedom. No war to be fought—at least, not yet. No urgent mission pushing me forward. At this moment, the only thing that mattered was deciding my next move.

And considering my situation, there was no better time to use my Noble Phantasm than now.

The Act of Imitating.

With this ability, I could mimic the combat skills and techniques of legendary figures, wielding their power as if they were my own. But the real question was… who should I imitate today?

I leaned against the ship's wooden railing, letting my thoughts drift like the waves below.

Since I was at sea, my first instinct was to take on the skills of a pirate. They were masters of maritime combat, unpredictable and ruthless. People like Blackbeard, Francis Drake, or Anne Bonny all came to mind. Each had their own unique approach—raw strength, strategic cunning, or agile swordplay.

But something about that choice didn't sit right with me.

Pirates thrived in chaos. They fought with reckless abandon, relying on sheer force, quick reflexes, and dirty tricks. While that could be useful, it didn't exactly match my style. I preferred precision. Control. A clear direction.

Pirates ruled the waves with fear.

But the ones who commanded the sea? They were the ones who truly conquered it.

"…A marine might be a better choice."

The thought struck me as I stared out at the water. A pirate might know how to fight at sea, but a true marine—someone who had spent their life navigating, strategizing, and commanding a fleet—would be even better.

And when it came to legendary mariners, there was one name that stood out above all.

Captain Nemo.

The genius commander of the Nautilus, a man who ruled the ocean with both technological brilliance and tactical supremacy. Unlike pirates who relied on instinct and brutality, Nemo was methodical. He understood the sea like it was an extension of himself, using it as both a weapon and a shield.

A smirk played at my lips.

"If I'm going to take control of this singularity, I might as well do it like a true captain."

With that decision made, I let out a slow breath and activated my Noble Phantasm.

A surge of energy coursed through me, and in an instant, the knowledge and skills of Nemo flowed into my mind. My posture straightened, my breathing steadied, and my instincts sharpened.

As the rush of my Noble Phantasm settled, I could feel the transformation take hold. My body shifted—my clothing tightening and reforming, taking on a more refined, commanding presence. Gone were the simple, travel-worn garments I had before. Instead, a naval officer's uniform now adorned me, the deep blue fabric lined with gold accents, exuding authority.

I held out a hand, flexing my fingers as I took in the change. My gloves were now smooth, well-fitted, and designed for precise movements, much like a true commander's would be. My boots—sturdy, built for standing firm even on the most unstable decks—thudded lightly against the ship's wooden planks as I shifted my weight.

And then there was the real change.

I caught my reflection in the polished brass of a nearby lantern hanging from the ship's mast. My once familiar features had altered slightly, mirroring the form of the legendary Captain Nemo.

My hair, once free-flowing, now had a neat, commanding style, slightly swept back yet still maintaining a faint wildness fitting of the sea. My eyes—sharp, cool, filled with a captain's unwavering determination—carried the gaze of one who knew the ocean as a second home.

I grinned.

"Alright then," I murmured to myself, voice steady, carrying the same weight of authority that Nemo himself would have.

With a sweeping gesture, I turned toward the ship's wheel, feeling a newfound sense of belonging to this vessel.

"This is my ship now. And as its captain..."

I gripped the wheel with newfound certainty.

"...I decide where we go next."

With that, I turned the helm, guiding the ship toward the unknown, toward adventure—toward whatever lay ahead in this Singularities' turbulent sea.

...