Disclaimer: This story was created by a fan, for fans of the Fate series. The universe in which the story unfolds and some characters belong to Type Moon and Kinoko Nasu.


Invocation.

'I ask you. Are you my Master?'


Day 0.

The light entered in the prison through the slits of the steel door. The damp, moldy walls, deteriorated by the passage of time, were the sign that his adventure inside the fortress of Shinto was over.

A screeching sound of metal crawling on the concrete floor rumbled in the prison. Tatsuma looked toward the door and saw an old man hobbled as he walked, carrying a wheelbarrow with charcoal and an iron club inside burning on the embers.

He looked up at the ceiling, observing at the organization's logo of Shinto. The logo was a circle with variants, different angles and shapes, with a star in the center. The people of the town considered it as one of the many eccentricities that the leader of the fortress had.

'It doesn't matter whether you look or not, the pain will be unchanged,' the old man said, holding the club iron as he pulled him closer and closer to Tatsuma's arm.

Tatsuma looked down, exposed of his clothes, chained hands and feet, he could not escape or avoid the blows.

'Let's make a deal. I was told that i could choose the method of torture and intensity, I can hit you once with this, and it will all be over. You just have to look at me.'

Without hesitation, he fixed his gaze on the man with the hope that torture would be quick.

And the old man looked at him with a sly grin. In one swift movement, it hit in his abdomen. The heat of the iron club was felt on his skin and he couldn't avoid a wince of pain. He swallowed, and in his desperation, he made a sudden movement, grinding the chains that held him.

'I lied to you!' the old man said, and began to laugh.

He gripped the iron club hard, pulled it back, and with the impulse hit him in the abdomen. Tatsuma swallowed and clenched his teeth tightly, the scent of burned flesh impregnated in the prison as he writhed in pain. The chains screeching because of the movement of his arms, Tatsuma's muscles contracted and dilated due to intense pains.

The old man kept laughing. He retracted the iron club and pushed it harder to hit Tatsuma's right leg, the pain shot up again, tried to hold cry, uttered a moan but bit his lips not to prolong the success of the torturer.

It was not long before the third blow near his shoulder made him react, part of the blow came in the face burning Tatsuma's left cheek, and he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, enduring a pain he had never felt in all his lifetime. The old man kept the iron club, sinking it into charcoal while spraying it with oil to stir the flames

'It's interesting to see how you try to not shout, many prisoners at this point would be begging for mercy, crying like babies you know. But this day is a special day; I was assigned a job that has nothing to do with the real torture. You have luck; the guys who don't scream are the ones that make me enjoy this job. I torture them in different ways until they break, make them cry like babies and take away the little dignity they have left.'

The old man took the iron club out of the coal.

'I was commissioned to dress you for your execution. And don't misunderstand me, when I say dress you, I mean destroy the most visible parts of your body, no matter if you feel pain or not, or if torture is eternal or fast, that doesn't matter. My intention is that the people who seeing you at the execution know what they expect if they try to steal in our city. So I will be brief and quick, since I cannot let you die either.'

Tatsuma stayed in silent; it was no use talking to him. He had experiences in the small town where he lived. In a world in which there is no regulation or clear rules, it only remains to obey what the strongest demand, and those who refused that, suffered the consequences. If the small town did not fulfill, they untied what they called as the day of hell. But he was tired of all that.

For villages surround the fortresses, asking for help from the Japanese military government was not an option, they were engaged in the civil war that was taking place in the capital and had no interest in protecting the dweller outside the cities.

The beating continued for about an hour. Somehow, the old man managed not to cause serious bleeding or injury; anyway, Tatsuma's body was reaching its limit. Despite keeping his eyes open, the darkness began to surround him and little by little, he was losing all his senses.

The prison was dark. Just moving some limb caused him pain. His legs had become numb and even a slight breeze in an affected area caused him discomfort. He closed his eyes, thinking of the consequences of his failure rather than himself.

The pain waned slowly, and exhaustion seized him. He closed his eyes and noticed how the pain alternated between one zone and another, the intensity was irregular, until he found a position that cushioned the pain of his body.

Day 1.

The loud squeaking of the door woke him; the torturer entered the prison with a bundle of chains and a garment that forced to use those who were to be executed in the fortress. He opened the chains that imprisoned him.

Tatsuma had surrendered to his destiny and didn't resist. They were chaining him of hands and feet, gritting his teeth, and letting out a growl of pain as the chains touched part of his torn skin.

He thought the guards would mock him, or intimidate, it was what Tatsuma expected, but it was all silent, as if they had experience in bringing the tortured to public execution. He began to tremble and couldn't take the next step.

'Get moving!' shouted one of the guards and pushed him hard forward causing him to fall. The other of the guards grabbed him by the arm and pushed him up. Despite the terror he began to feel, he continued to advance just as the guard had demanded.

They took him to the place of execution, a mass of people waited anxiously for the spectacle. They took Tatsuma to show it to the public and was tied with a leash to assimilated it to dog. Soon, a small group of people expressed their displeasure, but most applauded the act, minimizing that small manifestation.

He observed another of the logos of Shinto fortress on the floor, caused him repulsion, the logos were painted largely on the fortress, on the walls, on buildings, as if it were a representation of the strength possessed by the political ties of the fort, capable of such an extravagance, although for him, this display of power was ridiculous.

They gripped his hair firmly, and forced him to look at the steel blade that held the top of guillotine.

'Sorry kid, but you were chosen as an example of what will happen to the thieves in our fortress.' Executioner whispered. 'Many people steal because their hunger, but we are all going through the same thing.'

The guard pushed him to the guillotine; his head was next to a red-stained basket with stinking odor. He stared, knew his head would end there. He closed his eyes, began to sweat, nerves seized him and his false calm disappeared.

'We are gathered here to witness the execution of this scum of society. We all know how difficult the coexistence between us today.' Say the executioner, directing the speech to the public.

Tatsuma looked at the people, seeking help from someone, in anyone who took pity on him. But no one was in the execution place to help him; everyone expected his head to fall into the basket. That was what they had come to see.

Tatsuma closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for the end.

A small red light began to glow in the center of the organization's logo. That light took on density and shape.

The executioner approached the guillotine and removed the bolt that held the metal blade. Tatsuma closed his eyes, waiting for his death. He heard the screams and the murmur of the public and despite having their eyes closed; he could perceive an intense light. The blade went directly to him accompanied by the whistle produced when the wind is cut.

He felt as if someone or something had pushed him firmly to one side, destroying the guillotine. The pain shot through his body from the pieces of the guillotine that struck him, but he still felt his body, his legs, and his arms.

He opened his eyes; Tatsuma heard the murmur of the people and saw the executioner in panic. He realized that he had not been beheaded, he was still alive.

'I ask you. Are you my master?' said a soft voice.