"Why do you need a sample from Celeste?" I ask, honestly curious, "The SUV resisted her powers just fine. Just use the same process."

"Not possible." The Voice demurs, "The SUV blocks the servant's powers through brute force, being directly connected to my place of power. An Incarnate, no matter how powerful, is nothing compared to the strength of a god. I cannot duplicate the same process in the creation of a more portable form of protection. A more precise countermeasure is what is required."

I regretfully tap the side of the SUV. Why can't anything be easy in this world?

"What kind of sample are we talking about here?" I query as I walk towards the edge of the road facing the sea.

The Voice rasps, "Something personal to the servant. Such objects are generally marked with the spirituality of their owner. Procure such a sample for me and I can extract the essence of Fate's mark on the Incarnate."

I consider the request as the sea breeze lashes my face. Getting such a sample would be incredibly risky. As I toss The Voice's request about in my head, I extend my arms to the side, forming a cross in mockery of a famous film involving sinking ships.

"And you're confident that with this sample, you can do your magic?" I say, allowing the words to be carried away with the wind.

"Of course." The Voice scoffs, "This is not the first time I will be reverse engineering a legacy of the precursor civilization."

Not the first time? Then what was The Voice's previous attempt at copying Fate's tools? My features scrunch up in concentration while I maintain my balance against the incoming wind.

The Voice laughs, "I can tell that you are curious. Go on, take your best guess. The answer is more obvious than you would think."

Its something obvious, meaning I should already know the answer. I can think of only two precursor legacies that are still around and kicking. The Incarnates and the Codex. And the codex is to the best of my admittedly limited knowledge, a truly one of a kind item, impossible for the science of this world to replicate.

Would Fate itself count as a precursor legacy? If The Voice was telling the truth about Fate's origins, the goddess managed to ascend using methodologies developed by the precursor civilization. But Fate is no longer part of this world. Like The Voice, it hides itself away in a divine realm and acts through proxies. Scratch Fate from the list then.

The wheels in my head turn as the pieces fall into place one by one. Of course. Its so obvious now that The Voice is literally all but admitting to it.

"The Idol." I respond, "She can hypnotize crowds by directly manipulating the soul. A power that is very similar to what the servant does."

"Go on." The Voice rumbles, pleased at my conclusion.

I close my eyes and let my brain make the final connections, "If anything, the Idol's power is a pale imitation of what the servant can do. The Idol can just perform a mass stun through her singing. The servant can outright brainwash her targets, even to the point of commanding them to self-harm."

Like what this Celeste did to Delinquent. I shudder at the memory of him thrashing about in that brain destroying fit of his. Could the servant command me to the same when I confront her? Get me to annihilate my own mind?

I put that thought aside and keep pulling at the thread The Voice had laid out, "Then there's Magic Police Girl. You once told me that her power is inhuman stamina and resilience. That's a watered down version of Castiel's invincibility right there. Both of them even fight using the same weapon. A saber."

A grunt of approval from The Voice, urging me to continue.

"Then that must mean Brocon is an off-brand copy of Chance." I conclude, "High magical aptitude with an affinity for offensive spells is Brocon's specialty, if I remember correctly. But Brocon has no access to legendary spells like the Fire of Perdition. And her physical stats are much worse compared to Chance."

"Full marks, Transmigrator." The Voice confirms, "The Heroines are copies of the Incarnates. I developed the enhancements the Heroines are outfitted with from fragments of Incarnate data that had been procured over the years."

"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement of your skills at design." I point out, "The Heroines are all much weaker than their inspirations. You have no direct control over them either, unlike Fate and the Incarnates."

"On the contrary." The Voice disputes, "Using incomplete, purloined data, I had managed to create approximations of Fate's greatest weapons. That in itself is no mean achievement. And don't forget, there can only be three Incarnates per generation. I on the other hand, can mass produce Heroines as long as I am willing to put in the resources to do so."

"You can do that?" I start in surprise at this revelation, "Then why haven't you started cranking them out?"

"What good would that do?" The Voice rumbles, "Any new Heroines would need time to biologically mature, making them useless for the current conflict. Not to mention the immense cost such a venture would put me through."

I snort, "Meaning the so-called advantage of the Heroines is completely irrelevant and not an advantage at all. Really not feeling much confidence here, boss man."

"The point being," The Voice fires back waspishly, "I can do a good enough job working with stolen data that acquiring the sample I'm requesting will yield the desired results."

"A good enough job." I repeat the term, completely deadpan, "When you can't complete the countermeasure despite having enough information to create a watered down clone of the servant."

"Yes." The Voice grumbles, "Which part of incomplete data and imperfect understanding don't you understand? Now will you stop assuming that standing posture you are currently in? It makes you look ridiculous."

"Fine. Whatever you say." I smirk at The Voice's obvious discomfort, dropping the stance, "So what exactly are you thinking of when you say that you need something personal to the servant?"

The Voice clarifies, "Biological matter would be preferable. Something like blood would yield a treasure trove of data."

"Are you nuts?" I gasp in disbelief while heading back to the SUV, "That's out of the question. I would almost certainly be caught and shut down. Hard."

"A substantial biological sample would certainly be the best," The Voice admits, "but I recognize the fact that obtaining such a sample from the servant would be nigh impossible."

No shit, I whisper underneath my breath.

"Thankfully for you, I have worked in far less promising circumstances." The Voice crows triumphantly, "I can extract the servant's essence from other inanimate objects closely associated with her. Like her clothes for instance."

I crawl into the SUV and slam the door shut, keeping out the winter chill. The Voice obligingly turns on the vehicle's heater as I rub my hands with slow, deliberate movements.

"Cool." I nod, "Stealing some clothes should be a snap. Except there's one problem. I don't actually know where Celeste stays. I can't burglarize her home if I can't find it in the first place."

The Voice rasps, "Mr Matsui left us a clue before he collapsed. He said something about a Petition. The only Petition Mr Matsui was involved in was the Petition inviting the Host into Six Trees. He made a big show of his opposition to it during the material time."

I lie down on the sleeping bag and begin working my tired mind once more. Celeste was and probably still is a resident of Six Trees. She would not have been allowed to sign the Petition otherwise.

"You still have the ORPO ID that you spawned for me a while back?" I inquire, "I can use that to get the info we need from whichever authority handles residency information in The City."

The Voice considers my suggestion, "The District Registry. The clerks there have no reason to oppose a request from an ORPO officer. I approve of this plan and will bring out the ORPO uniform and identification for your use once more."

"Great. We set off in the morning." I affirm while stretching out, preparing myself for some sleep. A sudden thought comes to me.

"Does Gallant dream while I sleep?" I throw that question out into the darkness.

"Indeed he does." The Voice answers offhandedly, "Why the question though?"

"Just curious." I yawn, "Its nothing."

Silence. Just as I think The Voice has turned its attention to other things, I receive a rather strange reply.

"Mr Gallant not only dreams when you sleep," The Voice rasps, "he lives those dreams to the fullest. He will never wake up, not willingly at least."

"Remember that."