Prologue: Let it start

The sound of crackling flames woke him up.

Lord El-Melloi II, Waver Velvet, opened his eyes. Bright and raging fire burned everywhere. Was he in hell? With the great amount of pain he was in, it wouldn't be a surprised. His body ached. A dry cough escaped his mouth, it tore through his throat, he slump forward, blood tickled down his dry lips. He righted himself, leaned against the broken column behind him, he gasped as pain soared up from his back. He almost blacked out, eyes closed as he tried to let the pain pass.

Haggard breaths escaped him, with burning lungs and a raw throat. Blurry eyes watch the flames that encircle him, trapping him in, burning the large lobby.

"G-G-God…t-this is bad…" He said with difficulty. Burnt injuries rack his body. His favorite clothing was a mess, torn and burnt. He clenched his right hand, a hiss slipped through his teeth as his finger had dug into tender burn flesh. He raised his right arm carefully, the effort proved troublesome. He looked at his hand and saw the injuries, he let the limb drop onto his lap.

He was alive. He had somehow survived. A soft snort escaped him, already he regretted having survived. The pain he was in was the worst he had ever experienced. He knew he couldn't move. His legs muscles were far to injured to allow movement. More importantly, he had used the last of his energy to make it to this spot, where he had collapsed. Moments before he had slid down against the column, he had thought that he would die there, along with the rest.

Tired eyes survey the burning lobby, he looked pass the flames. Bodies, numbered by the dozens filled the floor.

Bodies burnt from the raging fire.

Bodies crushed under fallen rubble.

Bodies slashed with their pieces scattered.

Bodies smashed leaving nothing but a stained.

Bodies mauled by savaged familiars.

This was the fate that the members of the Clock Tower, home of the Mage Association had suffered.

The Clock Tower had been attacked. He did not know how long ago it had happened, or was it better to say that he did not care for the time for when it had occurred? He only remembered that it had happened late at night.

He was aware to how the attacked had happened.

There were traitorous magi among their ranks. Agents that worked with the enemy of the Association, the Boundary Fields that should've alerted the Association of any attack, it had been undermine by these traitors. This act had allowed for their enemy to strike at the Clock Tower with critical precision.

Men and women had poured into the tower, magi with connection to the Association, to the lesser magus families, or freelancers.

Their numbers had surprised them.

Their strength had staggered them.

Their ferocity was like that of a raging hurricane.

He had been on his office, unaware that the attack had started. It was when a magus crashed into his office, a young or old, student or professor, commoner or noble, at that moment it did not matter as he was scorched.

He had been quite startled.

The cause of death for this person had been a woman. She wore tight suit, a Mystic Code, white and black, two black belts strapped on her chest. A rather impressive and well-made suit, its purposed was clear to be meant for battle. Yet compare to the rest of the gear, it was like comparing heaven and earth.

A white hooded and elegant cape, it was made with the finest fabrics, it reached down to the waist, and on the collar were two blue crosses with strings tie in a knot. It would've been obvious to anyone, that these fabrics held power, a mystery that had been lost to the modern times.

The woman also wore armor gauntlets and greaves. Both were black, trimmed with golden décor, green circular crystals set on the armor. Great magical energy swirled from these green bits. It allowed them to perform great feats that even exceeded what a magus was capable of.

Yes, it was quite obvious that these were the creation of a Servant.

It made sense after Waver thought about, the Fifth Holy Grail War was about to begin. If the reports were to be believed, only one more Servant had been yet to be summon.

His keen eyes had analyzed these powerful constructs and could tell that something was off. But he didn't pay mind to it for long, he ran, he evaded. A miracle had occurred and he had managed to escaped his office, injured, bloodied, limping. Fire then had burst, it had consumed everything on its path, burned him, killed many. Then there was his collapse.

Another cough tore through his throat, it left him without air. More coughs tore through him. His coughs seized, his chest heaved, blood poured out of his mouth. He may had have survived, but it wouldn't be enough.

He was going to die.

His opened wounds would kill him, as blood poured out of him.

Or maybe he would die by burning, the flames kept on raging, it would only be a matter of time before the fire reached him.

Or maybe he would die by suffocation, there 'was' smoke, it had been nothing short of a miracle that he could even breath.

"Ah…j-j-just let the r-roof fall…a quick death…a quick death…" He croaked out, eyes closed, letting the mind wander. The roof could fall or the column behind him could crush him. In the end he would be happy just to get this over with.

He wasn't suicidal. In fact, he had enjoyed living. He had done a great of many things, met many type of people and he had enjoyed his time has a professor. It wasn't all perfect, nothing ever was, but he had enjoyed it. He had simply given up. He's body had reached its limit and he was fine with no pushing further.

Not that he would. If there was one thing that Waver Velvet hated was exercise and him dying because he pushed a little too much? Death by flames had seemed preferable.

So he closed his eyes, cleared his mind. He prepared to go into his own little world, to ignore everything around him. If tried hard enough, he could've died without noticing, it was grim, but he was a realist.

A soft snort escaped him.

"You're still alive?" A woman's voice asked, she sounded surprise, yet there was a hint of relief clear on her voice. Waver eyes opened, startled at the sudden voice. How long ago was since he heard the voice of another person? Seconds, minutes, hours?

The sound flames was the only thing that had occupied his hearing, its burning heat as a constant reminder of the impending doom, the pain in his body as proof that he was indeed alive. But to hear another's person voice was almost comforting, no matter how irritated he could get by he's students constant babble's, being so close to death made him sentimental.

Still he found some odd sense of comfort that he would not die alone, even if it meant dying in front of an enemy.

Unfocused eyes focus on the woman, her body shadowed by the flames behind her, a tight suit, the same Mystic Code that the other attackers wore but with different colors, orange, white and black, an armor gauntlet on her left arm, the magical white cape, with half her face obscured by the capes hood.

'Different colors huh? This woman must be the leader or maybe someone of importance.' Waver thought, his mind analyzed the person in front of him, his unfocused eyes focused as the woman moved towards him. Sour sarcasms rose up from his throat. "S-Sorry to disappoint…"

The woman stopped walking in front of him, looked down at him, she smiled at his sarcasm.

"Disappointed you say? No, no, you got it all wrong Lord El-Melloi II. What I feel at the sight of you here and now is not disappointment, but utmost happiness." The woman said, her voiced colored with sincerity, relieved and happiness were clear in her words. Her smiled turned bitter. "I have to wonder to just how many people had to die here tonight…from young adults with inspiration for greatness, to older ones with just wishing to see the fruits of their labor…it's quite tragic is it not? To end someone's Dreams and Hopes for the future…but you being alive will make all, of this, worth it."

The woman's words were filled with regret, a manic desperation, a need for justification.

Lord El-Melloi II looked at her with scrutinizing eyes, he did not move, just continued his stared toward the woman. His lips parted.

"Y-Y-You are…insane…"

The woman smiled at his words, a bitter and broken smiled, and she knelt beside him. His eyes followed her, eyes like hawks, shoulder tensed. She was so near that he saw her face features much more clearly, golden-brown eyes, copper color hair. The woman's lips parted, ready to say something, but stopped when the flames behind her died down.

"What a most inconvenience place to be. Being so near this fire and smoke will be quite detrimental. Your lungs will filled up with smoke, which in turn will cause your health to decline and make for the cause that your fighting for be ever that much more difficult. You have to remember that for magi, their breathing is quite important. Less you wish to fail with your spells."

A man's voice rambled, as he explained facts that were obvious to magi. Yet each word carried their own wisdom, advice that should not be ignored, no matter how obvious the fact. Waver could not see the man who spoke, but he could feel his presence, even in his injured state. It was more than obvious what the man was, a being that held power that only lived in their imagination, the ultimate familiar.

The Servant had arrived.

The woman looked back, as her face had changed from bitter and broken to one full of genuine happiness. She stood up, jumped and hugged him. The Servant stumbled backward a little, his robed arms wrapped around the woman's body awkwardly.

'So she's the Master then.' Waver thought, the Servant was obscured by the woman, but he could tell that his robes were similar to the ones that the attackers cape. He eyed the spectacle before him, the sight made him frown in disgust, the show of affection on the lobby filled with corpses made quite for a dissonance scene.

"You're right, you're always right." The woman said, her tone laced with affection, her tightening her hug. "It's been a while since I last saw you. I was worry you wouldn't come."

Those words froze Waver's mind. 'A while', that didn't make sense. A Servant, the ultimate familiar that could be summoned in the event of a new Holy Grail War, a constant companion toward their Master. A Servant would've never allowed for a Master to risk their lives, especially after such a massive attack.

"It was more than obvious that I would come. I may not look like it, but I am a man of my word. I did tell you I would see things until the end. And I do intend to keep my word, if not for you, then at the very least for her." The Servant said calmly, his voice held tenderness, as he put a hand on the woman's shoulder reassuringly.

"Yes, I should've not doubted you for even a second. But there are exceptions correct?" The woman's voiced held the same amount of tenderness that the Servant had demonstrated.

"Correct, 'Director'." The Servant said with a hint of a smile on his voice, his voice then turned serious. "The Fifth Holy Grail will begin very shortly and thus your plans, determination and devotion to the cause will be tested. But like I told you earlier, I will not fight her. Do not presume to pressure me into going into combat against her. Other than that, I shall stand by you. Until we've reached the end of this journey, you will have me as your ally."

The woman, the 'Director', sighed at the words, not out of frustration or disappointment, but one filled with relieved. She turned toward Waver, her relieved smiled turned sad.

Waver's lips twitched in annoyance at that.

"…he's one of the Seven Pillars. Please prepare it. I want to finish things here quickly." The Director's voiced was firm, a clear command, an order for her Servant. The Servant moved, he put his hands up in front, as a blue magical circle appeared on them. Waver shifted, caution blared on his head.

The Director walked towards Waver, knelt in front of him, cupped his face with her hands. She gave him a look of pity.

"Everything is going along well. If thing keep going like this, then no more have to die pointlessly. With our goals accomplish, we can stop 'it' from and we can save humanity from their fate." The woman said those words in a wishful manner, her hands tightened on his cheeks, she sighed. A light appeared behind her, a golden light, brighter than what any flames could accomplished. "You have been chosen, Lord El-Melloi II. Rejoice, as thanks to you…humanity shall accomplished and surpassed fate thanks to you and the others efforts. Humanities Dreams and Hopes shall become a reality."

The woman's words held conviction, a belief that was fanatical, desperation for the success of their objective.

The Director let go of his face, she stepped back, moved away. The bright light, the Servant stepped forward with the lights on his hands, it blinded him. There was nothing but silence, Waver looked at the light, his eyes barely made a figure inside the light, a shadow of a cup.

The Servant shoved the light into his chest.

It was then, that Waver Velvet, knew no more.

Authors Note:

Here you go, a prologue for a new story. Had this idea for quite a while now and was having a bit of trouble implemented it out in written form. I do hope it got out well and that you enjoy it.

Please leave a review once you finished. I would love to hear what you think about this.

Until next time.