A/N: DISCLAIMER!
This story is inspired by the following:
"Infinite Paths", penned by our Lord Mist.
"Fate: Zero Sense", penned by the Infamous Man.
I humbly bow to their madness, for their insanity exceeds mine.
Happy Holidays!
Thought some of you might like to see the project I've been working on for the better part of this year.
Gasp! A story not involving Naruto?! Is such a thing possible?! Is the world coming to an end?! Is the apocalypse nigh?
Yes, I deliberately CHOSE to keep Naruto out of this story. What? I CAN write stories without him! If I'm going to be writing my own novel-still in the processing and publishing stages, that-then I've got to branch out and try things out of my comfort zone. In this case? No Naruto. Furthermore, all lines, characters, and other aspects belong to their respective media.
I!
Own!
NOTHING!
Now this story is serious of course, but it will have its own moments of brief levity and such. Romance isn't really a thing in this story, so I apologize for those wanting it. Another version of this story involving other characters may well be written down the line depending on the reception that this one receives.
One last thing, some minor liberties are taken in regards to a certain character. Really, I don't think anyone will complain.
So, then...
...away we go!
Calling All Heroes sounded about right, what can I say?
"Never piss off the Grail. It always ends...poorly."
~?
Calling All Heroes
The Grail was feeling...whimsical.
Catalysts be damned, it wanted to have some fun. To stray from the tried and true dogma that had dominated its existence in the last few wars. Stained as it was with All the Worlds Evil it sought pain above all else, to bring the world under its thrall and watch it wither. Those already selected were fine heroes to be sure, and in turn, each would make a worthy offering...but how many times had this conflict repeated itself?
A deranged Caster?
Boring.
An oh-so-noble Lancer?
Boring.
A drooling, mindless idiot for Berserker?
Boring.
The King of Heroes, nigh invincible in any battle?
Boring, boring, BORING!
It wanted spice! Life! Variety! If there were to be sacrifices then they must suffer! Struggle! Scream! No war could be complete without these three essential ingredients! To give one hope, only to snatch it away! To watch Masters and Servants alike-even the strongest of them!-plunge into despair from which their could be no escape!
But the world did not lack for heroes.
Or Anti-Heroes.
Nor Villains.
So be it then; it would intervene.
They would change.
All save Saber.
Screw Saber.
(...0o0o0...)
Kirei blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He dashed his eyes with the back of a marked hand, stubbornly scrubbing at them until he was absolutely certain that he wasn't seeing things. Finally, when he became entirely certain that his eyes weren't betraying him, then and only then did he dare to gaze back at the Servant he'd summoned.
She was still there.
Aghast, he stumbled back half a step.
Though the smoke cleared and the figure before him awaited his command, a tendril of confusion still threaded its way through his thoughts as he gazed out into the night, gazed upon the form of his Servant. She gazed back. Therein lie the problem. A muscle jumped in his jaw, pounding alongside a thick vein throbbing in his temple. For once in his life, Kirei Kotomine actually felt some stray semblance of emotion.
Frustration.
Why must the universe confound him so?
As instructed, he'd attempted to summon Assassin a month before the war; only to fail spectacularly. It should've been simple. This was the task given him by Tokiomi, his goal in the war to come. Yet he'd failed time and time again. For all his attempts the Grail had stubbornly thwarted him, besting his every effort. Only here, on the eve before the battle was to take place, had he succeeded.
He almost wished he hadn't.
Eyes the color of bloody rubies regarded him from a pale face sheathed by ebony hair. The blade at her side almost made him wonder if he'd summoned Saber by mistake, but...no. This could not be a Saber. Unlike like her sheathed blade the girl's gaze was a naked razor, cold and hard, sharp and jagged. Clad in black crimson, she certainly looked the part, even given the...indecency of her skirt.
Was this a fluke?
A mistake of some sort?
He must ask. He had to know:
"Who...are you?"
A moment's hesitation, the girl rose slowly from her pointed crouch.
"Servant. Assassin. True name...Akame." those dull red eyes found his as she spoke in a low monotone, gazing at him with quiet curiosity. "Are you my Master?"
Her?
This little slip of a girl was Assassin? She looked...empty. Hollow. As though someone had reached deep inside her and scooped out all thought, all emotion-all semblance of self-leaving nothing behind. All that remained was a blade, and the cold vessel holding it. For one who was also "empty" there could be no crueler fate. Spirits, she looked worse than him.
In the end, only four words came to mind:
...what have I done?"
He wasn't alone.
(...0o0o0...)
"I...you...but the catalyst!"
The crimson servant laughed in Tokiomi's face.
"Hmm? Catalyst? Thought that thing was an ash-tray."
Tokiomi Tohsaka knew his blunder from the moment the smoke cleared in his study; no sooner had he set his sights upon his Servant than he knew the truth of his failure. The Grail had made a fool of him as well. Despite his catalyst, despite his meticulous preparations, despite spending a small fortune to assure their victory, all his efforts had been for naught. But more than that...
"Well, well, well!" again that deep, resonant voice throbbed through his ears. "This is...new."
A storm of bats burst into existence with that lone declaration, resolving into the shape of a man. No. Not a man.
...this monster before him couldn't possible be the legendary Gilgamesh. No. Even that great king paled before this being.
Sheathed in a crimson coat over strange black attire the man was tall, almost ghastly in his height. A pair of strange sunglasses shielded his eyes from view, now removed with a flourish of gloved fingers. That hideous hat followed suit a moment later, vanishing into...could flames be black? He feared they were. Yet the eyes were worse. Far worse. Cruel and slitted, framed by flowing locks the color of midnight, and brimming with manic glee. Once more tha mouth parted, exposing far too many teeth, fangs meant only to rip and tear and little else.
...I don't suppose you're the King of Heroes by any chance?"
Laughter burst of the man in a dark, exultant peal.
"Oh, that's rich!"
"W-Who are you, then?! Identify yourself!"
"Fine, fine, take all the fun out of it why don't you? I'm...Archer?" the man cocked his head aside as he stepped out of the shadows, considering. "Hmm? Guess I'm an Archer. Doesn't matter."
"And your true name?"
Archer laughed at him outright.
"You'll figure it out soon enough." he relented, still chuckling. "Lemme guess, you're the schmuck keeping me in this world, right?"
Stroking his goatee out of habit, Tohsaka refused to be baited further.
"Yes." he willed steel into his voice as much as his spine. "I am your Master."
Another bout of laughter immediately followed this declaration, louder than the last.
"Well, you're certainly no Integra," the Servant purred, "But you'll do...for now. You see, There's something I want."
That pale, toothy visage dominated his entire field of view.
"And you're going to help me get it."
Terror.
The newcomer's voice instilled dread on an almost primal level; the instinctive urge to escape from the towering abomination looming over him. It was only an effort of supreme will on his part that he managed to stand in the face of their hidden gaze at all. Even then the act of doing so threatened to unman him in more ways than one. The man's sheer presence threatened to devour him on the spot; render him little more than a gibbering wreck. By rights, he should've been thrilled. He'd drawn a night unbeatable card in the war to come.
Yet he felt only fear.
"But before all that...
Growling, the newcomer stabbed both hands in his pockets, leaned forward and...
"I require long walks at night. And a seventy-inch plasma screen TV. With Netflix."
(...0o0o0...)
"I AM HERE!"
Kariya involuntarily flinched as a mighty shout rocked the catacombs to their core. It was strength. Power. Will made manifest. Despite his best efforts to maintain a strong front in the face of that strength his body gave out and betrayed him, flinging up an arm in the face of the smoke, desperately shielding his battered visage from an attack that never came. Tendrils of blue smoke wafted across his feet, causing the worms within him to crawl in quiet confusion. He'd expected a catastrophic drain on his reserves, yet instead he felt only the slightest drain upon his circuits.
He was here.
What madness was this?
Reluctantly, he dared to look up. To gaze upon the Berserker-Class Servant he had brought into this world.
The man was a mountain; there could be no other word for it.
Dear lord this man was absolutely jacked.
'You could grind meat on those things!'
As though a hero had stepped out of the pages of a comic book, so too did this man stand tall. His short blond hair was cropped up in two distinct bangs jutting up above his head. That very hair cast a dark shadow over his face, hiding all but his deep, piercing blue eyes. His outfit was so absurd that any hope of description went far beyond Kariya's beleaguered mental state. Gold and blue and red and white, he was the shining epitome of strength, a crystallized legend given flesh. Peace. Hope. Determination.
A large hand descended with ease, plucking him off the ground and helping the stunned magus to his feet.
"Servant! All Might!" Again that cheery grin flashed out at him. "At your service, young Master!"
Kariya gulped.
...are you sure you're Berserker?"
To his dismay, the hero offered a sheepish chuckle and scratched at the back of his tan head. It was such a stark contrast to the boisterous boldness he'd displayed before that the young Matou momentarily found himself at a loss for words.
"Erm," All Might coughed into a clenched fist, "There were some...extenuating circumstances during my Summoning, so I'm not quite sure of my class...
"Well done, Kariya." the sullen rasp of Zouken's voice chose that moment to remind him of where they were. "It would seem you summoned an interesting...Servant."
At the reminder of his less-than-paternal sire, Kariya's mouth twisted into a bleak scowl. He'd nearly forgotten he was there to begin with; it was only the bitter reminder of his tainted presence that served as a less-than-pleasant recollection. With an effort he pushed such thoughts aside and willed himself to face this stooped creature masquerading as a man.
"I'll make you keep your promise."
The ghastly creature merely sneered back at him.
"We shall see."
He swore it. He would save Sakura. Even if the world despised him for it. Even if he were to lose everything. Even if it meant his death. For her sake he would gladly risk all. So long as this broken body of his held out, he would fight to his last breath. In that regard, a month was more than enough.
"Ho?" Berserker bristled. "And who is this?
A raspy cackle answered his challenge.
"Pay me no mind, Servant. Obey your Master and the Grail's wish will be yours."
All Might didn't respond, no, not at first.
In an instant Berserker's countenance inexplicably changed. A slight shift to those present, an arching of the back, a brief tightening of his fists. Little more. Kariya felt it instantly. For better or worse, All Might's focus had shifted from him to the ancient magus...and his good mood all but evaporated. That once noticeable tug upon his prana briefly intensified tenfold, sending him reeling before it abated just as mysteriously. What was that just now?
"A wish, you say...?"
Perhaps All Might sensed Zouken's true nature. Perhaps something in the old man's remark had set him off just. Perhaps he simply distrusted him for some reason or another. Regardless of the fact, a rare expression of something dangerously akin to anger flitted across the hero's stoic visage. Yet that smile remained and it made him all the more terrifying for it. When he moved the earth trembled underfoot.
A single step brought him about to face the Matou patriarch.
"You mistake me, villain." his voice emerged as a thunderous growl as he loomed large over Zouken. "I did not answer young Kariya's call out of any desire for a wish on my part. I was called forth by his noble desire to protect those he holds dear...one you do not seem to share.
The faux-vampire shrank back half of a step.
"If you slay me, then you'll ruin your Master." Was that a note of fear in the old man's voice, or was he imagining things? "I have but to wish it and she will die."
It was exactly the wrong thing to say.
"She?"
Kariya swore softly.
"Zouken! Don't you dare!"
Emboldened by his fear the nigh-immortal magus snorted, heedless of his own peril. "My adorable niece, of course. Your Master's fighting for her life. A worthless desire to be sure, but I suppose some men don't wish for greatness or glory-
All at once, Berserker's smile vanished.
"We shall see, fiend!"
Then he moved.
Clenched knuckles descended upon Zouken's skull and obliterated him instantly, annihilating his physical being-and many of the worms that composed him-on a near molecular level. The ancient magus offered no defense against this assault. All that emerged from the ghastly creature was a shrill, animistic laugh. There was no time for any thought or action on his part; no chance for him to send any commands to his familiars, much less those he'd left connected to Sakura. Nay, well beyond that. An attack of such magnitude single blow should've obliterated every trace of the ancient Matou in an instant.
In that moment, Kariya almost dared to hope.
"What manner of quirk is this?!"
It was only a fool's hope.
Without their master's corporeal form the writhing worms that remained possessed no more than the meanest intelligence. Realizing their peril they immediately scurried away, wriggling through the cracks in the battered catacombs to escape from the enraged Servant. Battered as they were, they should've been wholly incapable of inflicting the pain their master had promised. Still the incessant chattering of mad insects continued, rattling endlessly on in the halls above, until finally, it took on some human semblance once more:
"Ha! An admirable effort, Servant." the abomination's laughter rattled out at them, reverberating from every corner of the room in prideful scorn. "But ultimately fruitless. Brute force alone can never kill me. Now...try your best, Kariya. I'll be expecting good results."
Dejected, the magus finally slumped over.
"Enough. We're leaving, Berserker."
Victory was his only escape.
(...0o0o0...)
Kayneth coughed harshly.
"Blast it all!"
Thick white smoke pervaded his vision from every angle, rending his vision to little more than glimpses in the fog. What had gone wrong? His measurements had been precise, the circle flawless. The amount of mana far beyond what was required. Nothing had been left to chance. He should have pulled the best Lancer for this war. Yet instead he had nearly burned out his reserves merely bringing this Servant into the world. Even now his circuits burned uncomfortably hot from the summoning, mitigated only by the presence of his wife-to-be, Sola-Ui.
"Where are you, Servant?!" He snarled into the smoke. "Reveal yourself!"
"Gurararara!" An earth-shaking laugh rattled the room from top to bottom, flinging the proud magus onto his arse. "You're a bold one! To think I'd be brought back into this world again!"
A towering figure unlike any other emerged from the smoke, so broad that his head more than brushed the ceiling. An entity of pure fame and power, if not necessarily wealth in the physical sense. The Servant had all but stoop to even exist in the room itself and even then he eclipsed them both. Kayneth felt like an ant compared to him. One that might be crushed at the slightest provocation.
Yet in spite of his fear, he felt the connection between them.
A long face only just beginning to bear wrinkles, that curling white mustache, those countless scars etched into his muscled chest...
This could not be Diarmuid.
"I...you...who are you?!"
The hulking weapon draped across his lap could only be described as a heavy polearm; a massive bisento without peer. Merely gazing upon it filled Kayneth with a strange, nameless dread. He knew at glance that this man must be Lancer. No other title could possibly give breadth to the majesty of that weapon.
...this was a warrior without peer.
The giant-for he could think of nothing less to call this absolute behemoth of a man-bore a black bandanna around his head and light, loose pants tucked inside equally large black boots. A dark sash lay wrapped around his broad waist. Then there was that long, flowing coat draped across his bare, broad shoulders. Upon that pristine white surface lay a strange symbol that could only be identified as a Jolly Roger. Was this a pirate then? How in blazes had he summoned a bloody pirate?!
Golden eyes like those of a great beast regarded him keenly.
"So, you saucy brat...seems...you're the one who summoned me...unless its the wench over there?" His voice was like two giant boulders crashing down a rugged mountainside, the very voice of the earth itself and with that inquiry the stark weight of that immense gaze settled on her. "What say you, lass? Are you the one who brought me back into this world?"
Sola squeaked.
"N-No! I did no such thing!"
...pity." Lancer rumbled. "You're easier on the eyes."
As entertaining as it was to see his wife-to-be put in her place, Kayneth had grown weary of this dialogue. It wouldn't do for the Servant to believe they held the power here. Drawing himself up to his full height-which was still utterly insignificant compared to that of Lancer-he willed himself to meet the gaze of the world's strongest man. For his part, the man scarcely acknowledged him.
"Yes," he preened, puffing out his chest and brandishing his marked hand. "I am Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald. Your Master. You are Lancer, I trust?"
...don't really like the sound of that title, but it'll do." Lancer rumbled, craning his thick neck. "Now, then. I'm thirsty. Bring me your strongest rum."
Archibald absolutely sputtered. "I beg your pardon?!"
"I'm thirsty." the man retorted simply. "Can't fight with a dry throat."
Sola-Ui chuckled softly, but as fate would have it, Lancer hadn't finished his demands.
"This wish that this "grail" of yours grants," he stooped further forward, bringing his towering visage face to face with that of Kayenth. "I'll be taking it; to revive one of my dear sons. I trust you have no qualms with that, little Master?"
It would've been easy to lie, to simply deceive Lancer. He had no way of knowing he and the others were but sacrifices meant to power the Grail. But Kayneth's pride would not brook such an insult. The very notion that a man-that this mere familiar!-would so willingly order him about, or worse, defy him, stirred the embers of his pride to an almost feverish degree. This Servant dared to challenge him? To usurp his authority? This could not stand-NO! It would not stand!
"You will do no such thing! I will-
That mighty gaze narrowed upon him.
"I trust you have no qualms with that?"
"Well...that is to say...perhaps I might have misspoken?"
Something in him instinctively yielded to that overwhelming willpower.
The hours that followed would determine the very course of Kayneth's life.
(...0o0o0...)
Waver wanted to cry.
Everything had been perfect. The catalyst. The summoning. The blood. Everything! He'd conducted the ritual at the precise moment when his prana would be at its peak. He'd gone to great pangs to conduct it outside of the city proper of Fuyuki itself, solely to avoid attention. He'd hoped to use
Instead he found himself face to face with...
...a girl.
"Ho?" a small smile plucked at full lips as the smoke cleared. "This is unusual. Didn't think I could be summoned like this."
Though she bore a fair complexion and slight frame, she still stood nearly a head taller than him. Long, waist-length pink hair draped down her back. Straight bangs covered her pale forehead, doing nothing to conceal the pair of crimson horns jutting out between her headband among those silken strands. Her full attire consisted of a military uniform of sorts, composed of a white military cap with a matching overcoat and boots. Beneath it he glimpsed red garments he didn't recognize, coupled with black tights and white boots.
A strange ensemble to be sure, but not his concern.
What truly concerned Waver Velvet was the complete and utter lack of prana he felt from his Servant. Were it not for their contract he would've doubted her to be his ally at all; as it stood he felt only the slightest twinge upon his circuits, barely even noticeable at that. A passing glance informed him that here stats weren't merely low, they were downright abysmal. C's and D's across the board. Really, he couldn't rightly be blamed for feeling as though he'd failed.
"Why did I summon such a weakling?!"
In hindsight, he might've leaped to conclusions.
"You think I'm weak?" a pale brow rose in bemusement. "That's cute."
The air seemed to shimmer behind her at these words, as though concealing a great entity from view. Something large. Cloaked perhaps? Whatever it was, he felt the weight of its regard regardless; like an iron poker thrust through the back of his mind. That only slightly assuaged his dismay, but only just.
"I give up." he groaned. "Who are you?"
Those sharp, cyan eyes swivelled to regard him.
"Servant, Rider." the pinkette chirruped happily. "True name, Zero Two. Are you my Darling?"
Well. That settled it then. Utterly without hope, the young magus could only bury his head in his hands.
A/N: Would you believe we almost had Tywin Lannister as Rider? Or Anakin Skywalker? Perhaps even Geralt of Rivia?
We might yet!
Ha! Let that idea stew for a moment!
Now, I'm sorry if I dissapointed some of you. This is merely an ANIME X-over, so the choices were limited. I also wanted to AVOID using the characters chosen by the Infamous Man and thereby keep this story as its own. I deliberately limited myself from going full crossover because I wanted to test the waters a bit. As unconventional as that sounds, I think I'll hold onto that idea for another story. In theory Rider was also a tossup, but in the end I decided to go with the votes I received. I might try something related to shows/movies a bit later after my surgeries.
So here's the roster in case anyone's confused:
Saber = Artoria.
Rider = Zero Two.
Assassin = Akame.
Berserker = All Might.
Lancer = Whitebeard.
Archer = (TFS and pre-Schrodinger) Alucard.
Caster = (Not yet Summoned)
And one extra, though their identity will remain a mystery for now~!
Their stats-skills-Noble Phantasms-may be listed in the next chapter, if anyone wants to see them?
You'll get a hint of course to the two mystery servants. A BIG one.
Clearly we've got a lot of heavyweights going at it here. Don't think Zero Two and Akame are? Then you haven't seen the end of their series. Those two might be the deadliest of the bunch. Of course some are a poor matchup for others; while others might be almost even. Clearly I intend to do a Fate Stay Night version of this down the line, but that's a ways off. I won't list the entire roster yet, but I've got a good idea of it.
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly?
Aaand enjoy the madness!
You also get an Omake!
Including previews!
Who is Caster?
(OMAKE)
"Enough of this!" Kayneth blustered. "Lancer! Tell me your true name."
Again came that deep rumbling laugh.
"So you do have a spine after all. Very well!" Drawing himself up as much as the limited space would allow, the Servant he'd summoned turned to regard him. "I am Edward Newgate! Also known as Whitebeard!"
Kayneth blinked. "Whitebeard? What nonsense. I see no beard."
Newgate twitched quietly. "By all means, say that again."
"I'll say it as many times as necessary! I see no-
WHAM!
A moment later he found himself split in two.
"Well, lass, looks like you're it."
(Previews!)
Saber snarled.
"There you are, Archer!"
The door shattered behind him.
"Nevermind! We're back in business!"
"Heathen! Why can't you take this seriously?!"
Archer laughed at her; it was a deep, throaty sound that had no business coming from a human throat. Then again, he was far from human, wasn't he?"
"Because that's what you want." he cackled, brandishing twin pistols at her." And I'm not going to give it to you."
"My, my, my. Trying to subvert the Grail, are we? Someone's been naughty~!"
"Another Servant?! That shouldn't be possible! Who are you-ACK?!"
Avenger tilted their head, eyes flashing like wildfire.
"Wouldn't you like to know, dear...
Brandishing their bloodied halberd as though it were naught but a weightless feather, they advanced. She was darkness. Death. War incarnate.
And she was coming for him.
"A hero always finds a way through!"
"Master? You?"
Caster scowled fiercely.
"No. Absolutely unacceptable."
They were the last words Ryuunosuke ever heard.
Moments later his world erupted into light and fire and AGONY.
R&R~!