Taking Responsibility.

[wordsmithery]

Despite the lack of a body, despite the fact that you've initiated the investigation today of your own volition rather than due to some sense of formality and obligation (to the dead, to the rules, to the session), it seems that the Wordsmith is aware of your activities regardless; as such, when you finally leave that hidden area on the seventh floor and move back toward the stairs, you'll find that the elevator is already waiting for you. Perhaps it's unsettling, in its own way; perhaps it'll only serve to make you more determined. Either way, the ride up is swift and smooth as always; when the door opens, however, it becomes immediately obvious that the courtroom itself has changed. The podium circle is still standing in its spot toward the front of the room; three more have joined the ranks of the deceased since you were last here - Mikazuki, Watanuki, and Bruce Wayne's portraits have been set up on their podiums; however, theirs aren't the only ones that have been covered - all thirty podiums have been draped in black, the fabric spilling down over the wood, almost to the point of reaching the floor. That isn't the only difference, either - Kageshirou is far more visibly present today, in a way that's impossible to ignore. The walls in here appear cracked, much like the one in the foyer, dark silt and shadow spilling down to pool on the floor like contaminated water, like blood. A fair amount of it seems to be emanating from the lectern high above, the one place in this room that doesn't seem to have taken damage like the walls have; regardless, the darkness of the shadow entity spills down heavily from there, constantly pouring down like some sort of waterfall, thick and ugly and thankfully dissipating into the floor before it can touch the circle where you'll be standing. The circle is one of the few places in this room that's clear of it, actually. As repulsive as this all may be, however, the lectern remains empty, standing cold and unaffected by any of this; once everyone has found their place in the circle, the Wordsmith's voice can be heard addressing everyone, as always. "Welcome, Apprentices—I thought it likely you would want to find yourselves here today, and we have now gathered for what I am sure you need not be told may be one final time. Is there perhaps something you wished to discuss?" There are only eight of you left, and it seems you've reached the end of the line. There isn't much else to do but try to win, in any way you can. Best of luck to you.

ACCOUNTABILITY.

[blackmass]

[The sound of footsteps is slow, but deliberate and without hesitation. And as they echo through the room he walks into view lacking fear, lacking hesitance, lacking...much of anything at all.]

[He's tall--perhaps taller than his profile had implied--wide-shouldered and built like an unbreakable fortress wall, wearing the solid black of a priest; the light catches a gold cross around his neck to confirm the fact. And as he steps forward, his long coat (the deep purple of poisons and nightshade itself) trails behind him before coming to a stop as he does.]

[A smile cut across his gaunt and pale face, but it was far from a pleasant one. It was the enigmatic smile of someone witnessing a joke only they found humorous, and yet it did not reach the dark and emotionless eyes that scanned the room briefly as though the priest was carefully calculating what course of action to take.]

At last we meet face to face, my Apprentices.

[The voice that leaves him is recognizable as the same one that was heard only moments before, but clearer in person. Now it seems to ring like the largest, deepest bells of Notre Dame itself, no louder than an ordinary speaking tone--the result sounds more like distant thunder heralding an oncoming hurricane.]

[The real difference lies not in how he speaks, but what he says. The short, impersonal sentences of the weeks prior are at last discarded, and the man before them speaks as a true preacher--a true wordsmith--would address his congregation.]

Rejoice and be proud of your accomplishments. Each and every last one of your number, dead or alive, has truly exceeded all expectations I had for this group. And now you have clawed and scratched your way here, on the backs of your fallen friends' struggles and failures. You have proven that their own accomplishments would not be in vain simply by standing here before me--I do not doubt that your success is the wish most of them held in their hearts, at the very end of their lives.

[He places a hand over his own heart, taking on a tone that nearly sounds genuinely proud...until a patronizing current begins to run through each syllable like a deadly undertow.]

Do you perhaps feel satisfied? You would be right to, for making it so far. Your sorrow, desperation, joy, determination...all of it has been a magnificent thing to behold as you fought to reach this point in time. Each second of it has served its purpose, and served it very well. I am one who believes such struggling and effort deserves to be rewarded, and so this alongside my own endless gratitude is what I will grant you in return for all that you have done for me.

My name is Kirei Kotomine.

[He holds his arms out slightly to his sides, a gesture that would almost seem welcoming if 'Kageshirou' did not react and coil--completely harmlessly--around his arms like a black serpent. The smile he wore turned to a razor-edged smirk, the challenge set before the remaining Apprentices clear even without his next words:]

And now that we have properly met, tell me: shall we continue our discussion?

Initiative.

[trustwellness]

With your course of study officially completed, for better or worse, there isn't much left for you in the courtroom itself; the elevator will take you back down to the first floor, where you'll be left off – it won't take you any lower than that. But then again, perhaps it doesn't need to. Take some time to reorient yourself, to be grateful that you didn't die, to do whatever it is you need to do – however, if you return to the main part of the building, away from the dorms... Well. There's something waiting for you in the foyer.

RESTART.

[blackmass]

[Reluctantly and in his own maddeningly unhelpful way, Kirei Kotomine directs the Apprentices out of Chronos University. It's an upward journey; the floors they have inhabited for so long are well below ground. When they do reach ground level, they emerge in a building that is either a cathedral or some kind of archaic school; wide hallways, high ceilings, massive windows revealing the night sky outside (luckily for Elda.)]

[He indicates the front doors, unlocked and pushed open easily enough...to a modern city in worn down ruins, as though some kind of disaster swept through it years before and no one was left to organize efforts to rebuild. It seems completely uninhabited.]

[The building you have emerged from is large as it seemed from the inside, with a long-stopped clock high overhead.]

Welcome to the Clock Tower.

[He held his arms out slightly again, in that same not-entirely-welcoming gesture.]

With that sword, Hanyuu Furude should be able to reopen the walls between worlds and return you all to the places from which you originated. Say farewell to the university, Apprentices...and presumably to each other.