Chapter 2 – The Old Man of Chaldea

“What news do you bring, Hundred Personas?” Hassan of the Cursed Arm asked, sitting around the simple table in Hassan of Serenity’s room.
He was curious as to why the multifaceted Hassan had summoned them in such haste.
They weren’t of much use for Chaldea outside of the singularities, or the rare chances they are asked to hunt spillover threats, like those strange beings who resembled the Japanese Warlord who joined Chaldea shortly after that incident.

“Have you being listening to the servants that Master has been interacting with during their current travels?” The many-faced Hassan asked, currently wearing their ‘general’ form of a femme body with purple hair pulled back into a pony tail.
The ability to disappear into the crowd was one of the Hassan’s most feared abilities, and this Hassan specifically was the one credited with that myth, being able to change into a myriad of different body types.
Upon the mention of Servants, a phantom itch manifested itself across the Cursed Arm’s throat, before he dismissed the sensation.

“Not particularly. Unless the Lord Mage or the Doctors’ require my input, I leave them to their own devices.”
What Cursed Arm wasn’t saying, is that he was also acting as an occasional day care worker for the younger servants.
He enjoyed hearing how happy their play made them, especially the young Assassin, and the Lord Mage needed someone they trusted to ensure a certain Rider wasn’t able to get anywhere near them.
That ‘man’ was a stain on Chaldea.

“…….I have.” The quiet flower finally spoke.
She was the jewel of the Hassan’s eye, and since she was still relatively new to Chaldea and to finally having someone who didn’t die due to her touch, the Hassan of Serenity seemingly had a habit of always watching the Lord Mage when on missions.
Cursed Arm knew that Roman actually appreciated the assistance she unintentionally brought, since her rapt attention actually allowed him to rest when the situation permitted.

“Then you have probably guessed the identity of that strange old man that is keeping Master safe from behind the scenes.” Hundred Persona’s stated grimly, a dark look upon their face.
Short of talking to their Lord Mage, the Hassan always wore their skulls masks when out and about.
Only when with the Lord Mage, or in private like now, was their mask allowed to drop.

“…..yes. And I think the Old Man is trying to forge a bond with our Beloved Master, so he can come here.” Serenity whispered, seemingly a little frightened.

“What am I missing, that has you both being careful with your words and titles?” Cursed Arm queried, the phantom itch bugging him again.

Serenity’s eyes widened, realizing her error.
“Forgive me, I forgot that the memories of the Camelot singularity never probably meshed with your own.”

Cursed Arm tilted his head, curious as to what the Camelot singularity had to do with this.
He knew the Three Hassan had been involved, but unlike the other two Hassan, he only had the vaguest idea as to what happened.
Even the reports he had read out of curiosity barely made sense, since certain sections turned to unintelligible lines of text.

“The First plans on coming to Chaldea.” Serenity whispered, so softly that only the ears of a Hassan would hear.
Cursed Arm chuckled. The poisonous flower was working herself up over nothing.
“Child, I am already here.”

Hundred Persona put a hand onto his normal shoulder.
“No, Cursed one. The Original. The origin of the myth that we embody, the first Old Man of the Mountain.”

Upon Hundred Persona saying the title, the phantom itch burned briefly, feeling as if it had burnt clean through his neck.
And then the memories of Camelot finally asserted themselves, and he remembered the fourth Hassan that had been there.

The First Hassan.
The Hassan of Hassans.
The Hassan who executed any Hassan who became a failure.
The one who had declared all three of them failures, and had said he would soon come to claim the debt.
The Grand Assassin who was the true Old Man of the Mountain.

The Angel of Death was apparently deciding to grace Chaldea with his presence, and he suffered no fools.

—————–
“Good work, Ritsuka. This batch looks promising, go get some rest.” Da Vinci patted the last Master of Chaldea on their back, as they headed out.
They were wearing their red haired female form at the moment, a form many of the servants and staff admired, due to how beautiful and lustrous her red locks were.

Suddenly, the readouts on the tablet started glitching out, when the last of the summoning started.
Weird, wonder whats causing it? It seems similar to the effects of when we summoned the Shiki servants. But they were a literal impossibility, whereas this is a one in a million possibility….. Da Vinci’s thoughts stalled, as a hulking figure stood proudly in front of them, the very visage of death personified.

“Where is my Contractor?” The giant figure asked, power and awe carrying his quiet words.

“….they just left. Exit the door and turn right, and you should catch up with them.” Da Vinci informed the former Grand Assassin, doing their best to act like the confident acting Director they definitely weren’t feeling like while staring into the eyes of Death.

The large servant nodded his helmeted head slightly, apparently accepting her word.
“And where art the other Hassan? I am surprised they did not come to welcome me.” the barest hint of anger was noticeable in that last line, without any part of the armored form moving or changing.

“Same door, head left to the dormitories. By the time you get there, they should be waiting for you, or you should be able to sense them.” Da Vinci was surprised at how easily talking to this imposing figure was, once his attention was turned elsewhere. Having the Assassin focus on them was to feel Death itself clutching at your core.

“Ah, a conundrum. Hmm.” King Hassan raised an armored hand to his skull mask, apparently contemplating the choices Da Vinci had given him.

“Contractor would be best. While taking the heads of my Idle Children should be my first course of action, our Master has First Claim on their heads, only just above mine. Thank you, kind Caster.” The large servant slowly lumbered out of summoning room.

After a few minutes of silence, all the staff and Da Vinci let out a long sigh of relief. The former Grand Assassin was……..intense, to put it mildly.

“King Hassan!” Ritsuka’s feminine voice sounded out, followed by a deep reverberation which must have been the Assassin’s laugh.
Only Ritsuka could get away with calling someone like that King, and have it met with amused laughs.