I don't own Fate/Zero, or any of the other series mentioned in this fic. I don't even own the idea; that was inspired by The Infamous Man/TIM. Anyways, enjoy.
Many will argue over the exact effect the presence of Angra Mainyu, the Zoroastrian deity of evil and darkness, and the physical embodiment of All Evils of the World, had on the Holy Grail. Some claim that the former Avenger allowed for the summoning of beings that did not necessarily fit their class, and were instead shoehorned into the position because of personality matches. Others claim that the corruption allowed those who were far from the definition of heroes to be summoned. And while both credible theories, neither could be true: with enough twisting of context, most heroes can be forced to occupy another role, and if the presence of Angra Mainyu was the only factor allowing impure and less traditionally heroic summonings, how was Servant Avenger summoned to the Third Holy Grail War in the first place?
No, the effects of the Holy Grail's creeping miasma were far subtler, yet at the same time much further reaching. The system for the War came about due to the cooperation of three families: the Einzbern, the one family who knew more of Heaven's Feel than any other. The Makiri, whose expertise in the arts of summoning and binding stood unmatched. And the Tohsaka, who served as Second Owners of the most spiritually rich land that could be furtively used. But most importantly, the Tohsaka were the favored apprentice pool of one Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. It was through his influence that the Greater Grail could access the Throne of Heroes.
And it was this influence that Servant Avenger found, and twisted.
Zelretch the Kaleidoscope, Angra Mainyu found, was surprisingly boring. Why limit the Throne of Heroes to those that could only exist in this sole reality's plane? Why not take that power, and expand it infinitely? The Kaleidoscope could pierce the walls of dimensions, traipse across the boundaries of space and time, make possible the impossible, and yet Schweinorg was limiting the wonderful nature of such an ability? Oh no no no, Angra Mainyu wouldn't have that. Such a thing was to be savored, used, exploited as best it could! All it took was a small little twist, a twitch, and voila, the Holy Grail would reach further than ever before. The results would speak for themselves.
And lo and behold!
It seems that the first Servant was being summoned. The spirit of Servant Avenger curled up within his metaphysical prison, and were he capable, he would have smiled.
Let the Null Requiem begin.
Kotomine Kirei had set up this warehouse as a simple workshop, a temporary one, lasting as long as his inquests into the various disciplines of magic and magecraft. It would work for as long as it needed to, for as long as the vessel needed to be filled, and then it would be abandoned. This was how Kirei learned over the time leading up to the Holy Grail War: following a discipline to the point of mastery, then leaving it behind at the very pinnacle of completion.
And so he followed the same principle with this pseudo-workshop. It was exactly what he needed it for, but once he'd finished the summoning, naught would remain to indicate his presence. No trace, no residue, nothing. Not even his former colleagues in the Burial Agency would be able to find anything.
"Silver and iron to the origin," Kirei began to chant after placing the simple catalyst in the center, a piece of paper simply written with 'Assassin', "gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone…"
But it was at this point that Angra Mainyu intervened. There were so many ways to consider the profession of an assassin: a dealer of death, but in this case, the incarnation of evil knew what definition it would change. For what is the deepest-cutting knife but the subtlest? And what is the subtlest knife, if not the one that is willing to wait the longest, endure the most failure, and bide its time as contingency upon contingency activates?
"… arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"
The summoning circle illuminated with blinding light, filling Kirei's vision before replacing itself with smoke. The Executor didn't even blink, patiently waiting for the smoke to clear, and the only sign of his surprise was a subtle widening of the eyes.
This… was not Hassan-i-Sabbah.
He wore a black three-piece suit, a skinny black tie that cut off early around his neck, more fitting of a bowtie really. The jacket of his suit extended slightly longer than the rest, ending at his knees; the single vent in the back spoke of British tailoring, but one could not always be sure when dealing with the Throne of Heroes. A pair of belts wound themselves across his waist, one holding up his suit pants, the other holding a pair of holsters, though for what was still in question. Instead of dress shoes, he wore what appeared to be steel-toed work boots, at odds with the rest of his apparel.
And on top of his squinted eyes and unruly green mop, he wore a fedora.
"Servant Assassin, at your service!" The newly identified Servant doffed his hat and gave a bow. Kirei couldn't help but feel that he was being mocked. "I would ask if you're my Master, but since you're the only one here, I'll save us both the time."
If Kirei could feel emotion more deeply than he currently held the capacity for, he would have sighed. Something told him that this would be a long Grail War.
"I'm still amazed Grandfather managed to find it. Where did he say it was?"
The pale, white-haired homunculus turned to face her husband, hands still resting on the blue and gold scabbard she had placed within their platinum and mercury summoning circle. With a slight sigh of reluctance, Irisviel lifted her fingers from the holy vessel, and returned to her husband's side.
"Cornwall." Kiritsugu took a final drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the floor of the Einzbern's church, putting it out with his heel. "How Camlann became Cornwall is beyond me. Everything about the British is." The uselessness of a Walther PPK as opposed to a Glock still had the Japan-born magus unable to stomach some of their fiction. But the fact of the matter was that despite his aversion to most things British, there was truly no hero more powerful, more capable than King Arthur.
"Well?" Irisviel looked to Kiritsugu, an expectant expression set upon her delicate features. "Are you going to summon him?"
He steeled his features and turned towards the summoning circle. His magic circuits hummed within his soul, the small fragment of the Emiya crest implanted within him itching and burning to life.
"Ye first, oh silver, oh iron," he intoned, and drew the attentions of the Holy Grail.
Unbeknownst to Kiritsugu, King Arthur was not the only one with a connection to Avalon. For Avalon was more than just the King's ideal and goal, Arthur's utopia: it was a location, the one place in all of Faerie where no hostilities could exist, and harmony reigned supreme. And while Avalon could enshrine the Once and Future King of England within the realm, Avalon had played host to far more than simply King Arthur.
Servant Avenger hummed and pondered to itself, seeing the summoning was intended to bring forth a Saber. Oh, how he despised the Saber class, still holding the grudge that brought his demise in the Third War. Perhaps it would be best to reach a little further than usual and tweak the choice? Yes, yes, that would do, that one would do perfectly!
As the smoke died down Irisviel could not hold back her gasp of surprise and dismay. Kiritsugu merely wished he hadn't put out that cigarette.
The man standing in front of them was as much a Saber as Jubstacheit von Einzbern was a humanitarian. He wore a leather duster that came down to just past his knees, and given his prodigious height—above six feet easily—that was truly saying something. Upon his head he wore a wide-brim hat, not quite a Stetson, but something similar, and upon his lower half was simple work clothing. From his wrist jangled a small trinket of sorts, a bracelet with a pentacle, a ruby enshrined in the center. And in his hand lay a wooden staff, carved and inscribed with more runes than either present could decipher, save for a small set of six near the top: the katakana transliteration of "matrix".
"Servant Caster," the man spoke, a powerful and impatient voice, "by your summons I have come. I ask of you, are you my master?"
"Why did the summoning not work!?" The man's childish tantrum claimed yet another firmament of the hotel's presidential suite, his female companion sighing as she added the Ming Dynasty vase to the list of items that she must fix up. "Where is Diarmuid? What have you done with him!?"
"Kayneth!" Sola-ui Nuada-re Sophia-ri rebuked her fiancé, and despite himself the man backed down slightly, though his anger still simmered near the surface.
"I apologize for my fiancé's behavior; he is simply very frustrated. A former student stole his previous catalyst, and when this one didn't work as intended, well…" A swing of her hand directed the Servant's attention to the mess that the man had made, and if Lancer was to be honest with herself, it was quite the debacle.
"He's still a jerk," she said, crossing her right leg over the left and folding her arms over her chest, leaning back into the couch. She was a slight girl, not more than five feet, wearing a red overcoat with white diamond designs on the sleeves, and a short pencil skirt that stopped several inches above her knees. Her feet were clad in below-knee white boots, a slight heel on them, and her hands were covered with equally white gloves. Her long hair flowed freely, save for two small plaits on the side. "How can you stand being engaged to that prick?"
"It was a political marriage," Sola responded. And in Lancer's mind, that made all the difference. But in truth, Kayneth's rage was fully justified, expected even. For how was he to know that the Holy Grail's taint had selected a different Lancer, yet one whose tale also included betrayal from the same source as a loved one?
Tohsaka Tokiomi had spared no expense for the Fourth Holy Grail War. He had recruited a fellow participant, one with no known wish of his own and in doing so forged an alliance with the Moderator of the Holy Grail War. The hunt for his artifact had nearly bankrupted the Tohsaka's coffers and forced them to live as paupers were it not for the timely discovery, but it had been worth it. After all, the first shed skin of a snake could only tie to one legend, and even if through some strange occurrence it summoned the other associated with the tale, their power would still be greater than any other. For what could defeat the Original Legend in strength, when Servants grew in power based on age?
But Angra Mainyu had other ideas. For where it saw the sloughed-off skin of a snake, it searched for one who could slip free of their current form, much like a snake did when growing in size and strength. And when it stumbled upon a pair of perfect matches, it selected the one most fitting for this particular individual.
As the smoke cleared, Tokiomi, Risei, Kirei, and even the hidden Assassin knew one thing for certain: this was most certainly not Gilgamesh of Uruk, or even Enkidu.
A long blue coat of unknown cloth fell all the way to his ankles, the embroidery and design intricate in nature; the double-breasted jacket was fastened fully, polite and proper as should be. A silver pocket-watch chain fell from his pinstripe pants, attached to which fell the scabbard of a Japanese katana. Upon his feet he wore shoes of an eerily similar make to Tokiomi's own, and his features…
As for his features, well… the less said the better, and it made the Tohsaka head even happier that he had already vacated Aoi and Rin to a more suitable location.
"I am Servant Saber," the man said, eyes flashing to where Assassin's astral form lay concealed, even through the class's skill. "I ask of you, which of you is my Master?"
Despite his disappointment, Tokiomi could not help but feel the swell of pride in his chest. For even though he had not summoned the intended Servant, he had indeed acquired one who would act in a manner befitting the nobility of the Tohsaka family. And if that were not enough, he had summoned a Saber, the strongest of the Servant classes. While it was not the same as having summoned the Original Hero, the first of his kind to exist, it was a decent consolation. Yes, this almost made up for not receiving the King of Heroes, as his costly catalyst should have entailed.
Almost.
"Eugh! Come on Waver, you've come this far, a little blood shouldn't be enough to stop you now!"
After all, stealing his former teacher's artifact, his catalyst for the summoning, was enough that Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi could have called in enough favors to drop a Sealing Designation upon Waver's head, had he willed it. It was truly through some form of providence that he hadn't befallen such a fate, though it could also have something to do with the ludicrous nature of the situation. Him, Waver Velvet, the dyed-in-the-wool, yellow-bellied coward, daring to go so far as to steal from a powerful, respected Lord of the Clock Tower? Preposterous!
"Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill…"
And yet here he was, performing the summoning with his ill-begotten artifact, a rough circle hastily-drawn out in chicken's blood, at the most easily accessible point with two intersecting ley lines in Fuyuki City. The red cloak fragment, still retaining its color despite all the years, sat in the middle, not floating away despite the strong wind that the summoning had picked up.
Angra Mainyu looked upon this summoning with a fair measure of interest. A conqueror, but also a man who had united so many disparate groups under a single banner, with a single, arguably selfish goal in mind for the massive group he had assembled. Yes, there were many which could fit this description, but Avenger knew exactly which one would make things the most interesting…
As the smoke faded away, Waver feasted his eyes upon the Servant he had summoned. Black and red body armor covered his form, practically molded to his body, a matte coating preventing the light from glaring off of it. His hair was worn in a buzz cut, a small bit of growth visible on his face, but most noticeable was the faint scarring: a small spattering of glowing, orange-red lines upon his left cheek and above the eye, barely visible.
"I'm Servant Rider. I guess you're my master, huh? Come on then, we have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to waste."
The newly identified Rider surged forward, gripping Waver by the shoulder and steering him off in another direction.
"H-huh?" Waver dumbly protested. "Hey, wait a moment!"
"It figures you would never amount to anything, Kariya." The old mummy, his body practically falling apart with every word and every step, let out a terrible, rasping chuckle. There was a strange sort of humor in his words, one that only he seemed to understand, and didn't seem to care for anyone else's lack of understanding.
"I give you a simple task, a perfect catalyst, and yet you fail to summon Lancelot of the Lake. I should have known that the black sheep of the Matou would fail me once again. But don't think this changes our deal: remember, Sakura only goes free when I hold the grail in my hands, Kariya. Do not forget that your life is in my hands."
The white-haired man, his left eye blinded and his right leg lamed, could only grit his teeth in anger and hatred as the decrepit monster hobbled away, the chilling echoes of his laughter and the hollow clack of his cane fading away. The figure leaning next to him, the slightly-clad girl of obviously inhuman nature, shuddered slightly. Her wings shifted and her tail gnashed along the ground, a silent conversation playing out before she turned to her Master.
"Something is, is… wrong with that man."
"I know, Berserker," Kariya answered, pushing himself up to one knee. "Believe me, if there was any other way, I know."
"Fill, fill, fill'er up, fill, repeat four times," Uryuu Ryuunosuke hummed, his bloodied finger trailing across the floor. "Or was it five times?" He paused in his drawings, added another doohickey here, a thingamabob there, a curlicue on that side, then sat back and hummed to himself. It was an intricate design, and it was just so cool!
"Um, destroy each when filled…"
He wiped the blood off on the cushion of his chair, then paged through the book again, eyes darting back and forth furiously as he looked into this crazy thing he found. His gramps was definitely a cooky old codger, but damn if he didn't just have so much cool shit!
"Hm, let's see," he muttered, holding a hand up, "fill, fill, fill, fill, fill, yup! Exactly five times! Okay then!~"
The dim glow of the television gave the darkened room a slight off-white hue, and the story on the news repeated itself once more. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryuunosuke saw that those boring people were covering him. Again. Maaan, don't they ever find anything else to do? He knew he was cool and all, but sometimes he got tired of seeing all of his worst art on the TV!
A muffled whimper drew his attention back to the one remaining from his current project: a child, hog-tied in the corner with a bandana tied tight around his head and stuffed in his mouth. His eyes were wide in horror; oh, the things he had seen! If only Uryuu Ryuunosuke had seen them himself as a child, how envious he was!
"Do you think demons exist, boya?" he called to the kid, walking over to lean over him. The boy tried to scoot away in fright, but found his back against the wall. "The news keeps on calling me a demon, but don't you think that's a little rude to do if demons actually do exist?" The evil smile on his face grew wider and wider, and yet his disappointment in the little guy only grew. Couldn't he see just how cool this whole thing was!? He got to see art in the making! Ryuunosuke would have killed for that when he was younger! Ah well. Maybe the kid would get better in a bit.
"Yo! I'm Uryuu Ryuunosuke, and I'm a demon!" He stood back up, away from the kid. "Somehow I don't think I should be introducing myself like that." He crossed back over to his chair, and sat backwards on it, chin slouched forward on the backrest. The child could only sigh in relief, before starting again when the self-proclaimed artist spoke once more.
"You know, I found this old book," he held the said item aloft, pages still opened to the previous location, "while digging around my old storage space! It kinda looks like my ancestors tried summoning demons or other. So I was like, I gotta try that, see if demons actually do exist!" The gag in the kid's mouth couldn't drown out the sounds of his sniffling and crying, and damn if the kid wasn't being a pain about it. Didn't he know that shit would ruin the art if it got anywhere too close!?
"Hehehehahaha!" The kid squirmed and thrashed, hands doing their best to reach the knots in back, but Ryuunosuke knew it was a futile effort. "I gotta wonder though, what'd it be like to summon a real demon!? I bet it'd be pretty coo—ow, shit!" A fire raced through his right hand, and when he looked down, he saw a unique design: a gun and a sword splayed over a jester's hat. But he didn't get to ponder the significance long, for the bloodied circle in the corner came alight with a crackle of electricity.
Angra Mainyu hadn't had a catalyst to work with this time around, only a personality, but it definitely didn't have to look far for that one. A bored killer, determined to find something cool and fun, something to liven up his otherwise dreadful existence… why, that was just a gimme, wasn't it?
"Yo!"
As the light died down and vision returned to Ryuunosuke, he found the source of the noise: a messy-haired man in a suit, a police badge on his waist.
"S-shit, you're the poli—"
"So I guess you're the one who summoned me here, huh… I'm Archer, by the way, or that's what I'm being called right now. You got a name?"
Relief flooded the orange-haired killer's veins. This wasn't a cop… not really, anyways.
"Uh… I'm Uryuu Ryuunosuke. Unemployed, though I like killing women and children, and I'll kill the husbands if they're there." He pointed at the kid in the corner. "Hey, you wanna do anything with him? I was kinda expecting a demon or something, but… whatever you like, I guess."
The mousy-haired detective, or Archer as it were, put a hand on his chin and nodded a few times.
"Alright, I guess that works. Wanna go outside? Trust me, it'll be so much better if you only hear this one. You'll get to let your imagination go to work!"
Ryuunosuke didn't need telling twice, and skipped outside the door without so much as a second's thought. As the child's screams filled the room with lovely, lovely music, he knew that he'd made the right choice: that was just so damn cool!
"It seems all the Servants have been summoned," the priest spoke to himself, alone in his church. It wouldn't be much longer now before the plan was to go into effect; thankfully the strange summonings hadn't thrown overly much off. Assassin's death could still be faked, and then used fo—
PAIN PAIN RIGHT ARM WHAT WAS THAT PAIN IT HURT THE BLOOD IT HUR—
"By Gaia's will, I have been asked to govern this 'game'. As such, there remains no more need for you," a sultry female voice announced, piercing through the horrible sensations jamming their way into Kotomine Risei's brain. "Begone, heretical mongrel."
As the seven blades skewered Kotomine Risei and wiped his existence from the world, the spare Command Seals, left over from previous wars, faded from his arm and onto the right arm of the golden-haired woman standing over his corpse, which too disappeared in short order. In his place, a sweeping change fell upon the church: where once had been austere and Spartan, wooden pews and dank stone, indeed, where once sat a church was now a grand, luxurious palace fit for a king of kings. Gilded columns held up a lavishly painted ceiling, works of the most famous artists of the Renaissance, and all periods of history adorned the structure. The Sistine Chapel's ceiling, marble columns from Greek temples gilded in gold leaf, Gothic buttresses and pointed towers. All of the world's most beautiful structures had found their way into one location… and while the outside still resembled a church, the floor itself was just as lavish as the deceptive architecture.
A thin layer of water, perhaps one and a half inches deep, covered the entirety of the floor. Flower petals of all colors, pink and purple and crimson and blue, floated along the surface. Hidden underneath the rippling mirror lay a mosaic of truly intricate beauty, salvaged from Pompeii mere seconds before Mount Vesuvius buried its magnificence under tons upon tons of ash and dust. Truly, this woman appreciated beauty and treasures in a way no mortal could.
"There is no more need for a moderator," she announced to the empty church, "especially one so insipid and corrupt. Servant Ruler will reign over this Holy Grail War."
The identified Servant Ruler sat down upon her golden throne, one leg crossed over the other.
"All of the Servants have been brought into the world. Now, let us see what unfolds, shall we… Enkidu?"
And so ends the first chapter of Fate: Zero Requiem. Below you'll find the Servant stat sheets, which will be updated as more information comes to light. For now, they'll only have class-specific skills, and even then not all of them (Caster and Berserker) will have them present.
If you can guess the identities of the Servants, and you guys shouldn't have overly much difficulty with some of them, you get a cookie. A freshly-baked chocolate chip cookie, which is delicious. Trust me, they're one of the few things I can cook without burning or undercooking it. That and steak. Mmm…
Anyway, onto the Servant's stat sheets!
IDENTITY
Servant: Saber
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: B
Endurance: A
Agility: A+
Mana: D
Luck: D
Noble Phantasm: A++
SKILLS
Magic Resistance: A
In life, Saber was fairly resistant to magical attacks, capable of combatting them his own way. As a Servant, this ability translates to an incredibly high resistance to arcane assault. Only magic from a Caster-class Servant or a magic-based Noble Phantasms of equal or higher rank can overcome his Magic Resistance, and he can even temporarily resist the power of a Command Spell at this level.
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Archer
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: D
Endurance: B
Agility: B
Mana: C
Luck: A
Noble Phantasm: A
SKILLS
Independent Action: A
Independent Action allows Archer to act independently of his Master for a period of time, and exist in the world without a Master for a period depending on their rank. At this level, Archer can even choose to interpret a Command Spell how he wishes, according to the spirit or letter, and can last two weeks without a Master, two days if he chooses to use his Noble Phantasms or enter combat.
Magic Resistance: B
As one of the Knight Classes, Archer has innate Magic Resistance. Resistances from life have carried over, however, and boosted this skill a little more than most Archers would have.
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Lancer
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: C
Endurance: A
Agility: A
Mana: A
Luck: E-
Noble Phantasm: A+++
SKILLS
Magic Resistance: C
Due to circumstances from her lifetime, Lancer's innate Magic Resistance is boosted a level from the norm of a Lancer.
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Caster
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: C
Endurance: B
Agility: C
Mana: EX
Luck: A
Noble Phantasm: A++
SKILLS
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Rider
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: A
Endurance: EX
Agility: D
Mana: E
Luck: C
Noble Phantasm: EX*
*Lowered from Unquantifiable to EX to fit the restrictions of the Grail War
SKILLS
Riding: A
All creatures but those of Divine Beast and Phantasmal Beast can be used as a mount, and any vehicle can be piloted with the ease of a lifetime of use.
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Berserker
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: B (A)
Endurance: A (A+)
Agility: B (B+)
Mana: EX
Luck: D
Noble Phantasm: A++
SKILLS
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Assassin
True Name: ?
Series/Origin: ?
Strength: C
Endurance: C
Agility: A+
Mana: ? (Due to unknown circumstances, cannot be quantified)
Luck: EX
Noble Phantasm: EX
SKILLS
Presence Concealment: A++
Presence Concealment allows Assassin-class Servants to hide themselves and erase all traces of their existence from the world, making them impossible to detect. At this level, Assassin is all but impossible to perceive, and can even unleash a surprise attack before his presence is noticed. However, he can only unleash one surprise attack in each Servant's presence before they will be able to notice his being there before he can release his attack.
Independent Action: EX
For reasons unknown, Assassin possesses the skill of Independent Action, allowing him to act without permission from his Master, and persist in the world without a Master. At this rank, Assassin can persist indefinitely, without needing a Master, and use any and all of his abilities with reckless abandon without worry of disappearing. In addition, he can outright ignore vague Command Spells, only having to comply with specifically-worded requests. Demands such as "withdraw" can be ignored, because he can just 'withdraw a weapon from his sleeve' to fulfill the request, or even postpone the 'withdrawal' to a later time. However, he cannot ignore "withdraw from your current battle immediately and return to base" due to the specificity of the order.
NOBLE PHANTASMS
IDENTITY
Servant: Ruler
True Name: Gilgamesh
Series/Origin: Fate/protoreplica, The Epic of Gilgamesh
Strength: B (A+)
Endurance: C (A)
Agility: C (A)
Mana: B (EX)
Luck: A (EX)
Noble Phantasm: EX
SKILLS
Independent Action: EX
Independent Action allows Servants to act without permission from their Master, and persist in this world without the presence of a Master. Having been summoned by the Holy Grail itself, Gilgamesh requires no Master, and she can exist indefinitely without a Master to support her.
Magic Resistance: EX
At this rank, magic-based abilities cannot harm Gilgamesh at all, and she is impervious to the effects of Command Spells.
Charisma: EX
Charisma is the natural talent to command an army. At this level, simply listening to Gilgamesh is enough to be swayed by her words. This skill allows her to alter the rules of the Grail War should such a thing become necessary.
NOBLE PHANTASMS