Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following characters, materials or plot, only the creative arrangement of the aformentioned.
The plot and characters of Fate as well as those of any other series referenced here are the property of their respective owners.
The corrupted grail, in its greed, begins to siphon power from other dimensions to sustain itself, even going so far as to summon the spirits of seven heroic spirits from their own realities. But the corruption of Angra Mainyu continues to worsen, and it's not just heroes that are fair game, but anyone with an existence strong enough to feed the ritual. In an event with infinite parallel paths, this time the chaos will be absolute.
Nth Degree : Fateless
Time to escape
The clutches of a name
No this is not a game
It's just a new beginning
I don't believe in fate
But the bottom line it's time to pay
You know you've got it coming
This Is War
[30 Seconds to Mars - Escape]
Prologue
This is it.
The guy's spear is pointed directly at my heart.
I know this…
This is the smell of death I felt just a few hours ago.
"…I don't get it. You're sharp, but you seem to suck at magic. You may have talent, but it's too late to make anything of it now."
My mind is focused only on the weapon in front of me.
It's only natural.
Because I'll die when that thing is thrust.
So everything else is gone from my mind. What else can I think about now that things have ended up like this?
"It's odd, but maybe you were meant to be the seventh. Well, it's better for you this way if that's the case."
The guy's arm moves.
The movement I couldn't even see before looks like it's in slow-motion now.
…This is bullshit. I can't accept this. I can't just die here meaninglessly.
I was saved. Saved! I can't die so easily!
I have to live and fulfill my obligations. If I die, I can't do that.
It pisses me off.
It's ridiculous to kill someone that easily.
It's ridiculous for me to die so easily.
Dying twice in one day, that's ridiculous as well.
Damn, everything is so screwed up that I can't contain it all and…
"DAMN IT-!" I shout out.
A blinding light erupts from behind me. The man falters and steps back.
"What the-?"
Despite my situation, I turn and look. My mind stops.
The figure who appeared is a girl.
Sparks fly twice as in a flurry of motion the spearman is forced to deflect heavy blows from the newcomer.
The guy back-peddles away, a blur of steel swiping through the air where he had been an instant before.
"Gah!"
He must have realized he is at a disadvantage, as he jumps out of the shed with his unnatural speed.
While keeping her a guard up against the spearman with the blade in her hand, she turns to me.
The clouds drift apart overhead and the moon appears for a brief moment.
The silver light that shines into the shed lights up the girl in knightly form. Silver armour glinted brightly, overlaying a blue skirt.
Hair hung down to her back and heavily to one side of her fringe, blood red, its significance lost on me but striking nevertheless.
"…"
I'm speechless.
Not because I'm confused by the sudden turn of events.
I'm at a loss for words because of this girl's heavy presence, and overwhelming beauty.
The girl stares at me with bright brown eyes, then smiles lightly. I completely freeze up.
"I ask of you. Are you my Master?" She asks in a valiant voice.
Earlier that day...
Rin's heart was in her mouth as she approached the wreckage of her living room.
She didn't understand what had gone wrong. She had waited until the optimal time, the peak of her power, performed the ritual flawlessly, had used an unaffiliated catalyst... maybe that was it actually.
Maybe heroic spirits weren't meant to be summoned without an appropriate catalyst.
Groaning as she saw the mess that had been made of the room from her spell running amok, she almost turned away to fetch a room to tidy up, face burning with shame at her failure.
Then he appeared. Clambering out of the wreckage, brushing himself off, was a man.
"A-are you my servant..?" Rin asked cautiously.
The man didn't answer, standing up straight, adjusting rectangular rimmed glasses on his face and walking over quietly.
He wore a coat of white, decorated with blue crosses, and his black blue tinged hair lay flat on his head, with two long bangs framing his stern face.
"You must be my master then," he finally spoke. His tone told her he was less than impressed.
"Tch." He frowned back at the debris of the once orderly living room.
Rin's hackles went up. "Hey, it's not my fault! I did everything by the book, look!" She shows him the command seals on the back of her hand. "I summoned you, didn't I?"
The frown didn't leave his face as he turned his direct attention to her again.
"Yes. I can feel the link all right, but I'm fairly sure summonings aren't usually this... destructive.
Rin could feel her blood boiling. Clearly he could see this, as he shrugged it off.
"Nevertheless, I am servant Archer, at your disposal." He gave a slight bow and flourish, clearly meaning to make a good impression.
He was probably less than enthused by her startled reaction.
"A-a-archer?" She stammered. No! Even after this disaster, she still didn't get the servant she was hoping for.
He sighed. "Yes, master. Am I not what you were expecting?" He asked, more than a little bit put out.
"Well, no, but..."
Archer waved it off. "No matter. Even if you planned for someone else, we can work around that. Besides, I'm sure I'll surprise you." He smirked slightly. "After all, I'm no pushover either."
Rin found that hard to believe. After all, servants summoned for the holy grail war are nothing less than monsters. Heroes of their time they may be, but amplified by their legends and summoned as spirits they're entities with power rivaling that of miracles. To summon not only a weaker servant but one with a combat style so utterly opposed to her expectations is to invite an early death.
She had, after all, been hoping for a Saber, the knight of the sword who would be practically unmatched in close combat, with resistance magecraft to boot.
Still, Archer is one of the knight classes. Maybe he'll surprise her. He'd better surprise her.
Or we're both dead, she thought darkly.
Oblivious to the thoughts whirling around in my head, Archer speaks up again.
"First things first."
She perks up. Does he mean to start already?
"Let's get this mess cleaned up."
Half an hour later, Rin's sitting at her kitchen table sipping tea, Archer sitting at the other side calmly, his white coat now spotless.
Despite being a servant, he proved to be a surprisingly eager helper, and though it wouldn't have been the first thing on her mind they had already pretty much completed the repairs to the living room.
And he didn't make a bad cup of tea either.
Of course, she was now down several lesser gems she really rather she hadn't used... but Archer had the chance to witness her magecraft first hand, so now he has a good idea of what he's working with.
It was going to take a while for Rin to get used to the notion of having an Archer as a servant, but she expected it would stay awkward until their first combat where she could see what he could do. So best get that out of the way soon, but cautiously.
"Master, I can't help but notice the way you cast your spells," he tentatively spoke, stirring his own untouched tea with a small smile on his face as though he found something funny but wasn't willing to share it.
"Oh? Is there something wrong with my skill?" Rin asked sarcasticly, but genuinely curious to what he was getting at.
"They're in german."
She blinks. That's not the response she was expecting.
"Yeah, your point?"
"Well it's not quite so surprising to me now that you summoned me. My ancestry is after all German. Though I'm still not sure that parallel is fair to draw."
She sits up straight. Is he going to reveal his identity? A heroic spirit's real name is a source of both power and weakness for them, as it could help her better understand and efficiently co-operate with her servant just as easily as it could provide the knowledge of a weakness from their legend that the enemy could exploit.
Now is perhaps the best time to learn it. Throwing caution to the wind, she pre-empts him.
"Archer, what's your real name."
He frowns slightly. He seems to be thinking.
"I... there's not really much point in telling you."
"What? Why?" She demands. She's suddenly very aware of the command seals on her hand.
Patience Rin, only a rank amateur would waste a command seal on something so small so quickly.
Archer groans and puts a hand to his head.
"Master, as a servant I receive relevant information from the grail upon my summoning. But there's a number of issues here I should probably address now."
He makes direct eye contact, all traces of whatever hidden humor he had before now gone behind a serious front.
"First is that I am not at all familiar with this country. In fact, I'm not really familiar with this world as a whole. There are several glaring differences, but I'm not going to get into that now.
The important part is that this is not the world I lived in. Giving you my name now would prove no advantage, but I'm still not sure there would be no downside."
"Hang on, are you saying you're from a different world? That can't be right!"
He arches an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"Th grail summons servants from straight out of legends, you're suggesting it's reaching into other worlds, other dimensions instead?"
"It's supposedly an omnipotent device that summons seven different divine spirits for a gladitorial contest where the winner gets any wish they want granted and you're questioning it messing with reality?" He sounded amused.
Rin pouts slightly. When he puts it like that, it's not quite so ridiculous after all.
"Wait, just what do you mean 'supposedly'..."
"...I've learned the hard way to never take things at face value. Just because some ancient beings would have you believe something, doesn't make it true." He said darkly.
"Then there's the other problem. The grail is supposed to summon seven servants for seven masters, giving each a shot at the grail in order to have their wish granted. But it's meant to select people who need it the most.
...I have no wish."
Rin's eyes widen. "What?"
"So master, I must ask you now. What is your wish?"
"I... I don't have one." She frowned.
Rin wanted to win the grail for the sake of winning it. For her family, not for herself. She never had a wish to begin with. Archer's words were making eerie sense.
Archer stood up. "That's enough to be thinking about for now. If you will allow, I think it best to familiarize myself with the area before this war really gets underway. Who knows, I may get the chance to show you my skills tonight. It's easier to understand if you see it with your own eyes." He smiled wryly.
Shaking her confusion off, she stood too. "Ah. I was just about to suggest the same thing."
Walking to the door, she glanced back at him.
"We'll do some reconnaissance tonight. No heavy fighting. If things get messy, we'll pull out."
Astralizing behind her as she walked out the door, Archer answered, "Agreed."
A week before that...
Kirei Kotomine frowned. He was not upset by the pool of blood at his feet, anymore than he was upset by the severed arm in his hand, the dying woman sprawled across the floor, or even the feeble whimpers she was making as she slowly suffered away.
No. The fake priest was more concerned by the servant standing ten feet away, the one who had literally just been summoned by the same woman who was now missing a limb.
Brown hair and deep blue eyes, the servant was a boy who couldn't have been yet out of his teens. He wore what looked like the bare bones of a school uniform, a white shirt and black trousers, and overall looked as plain and unassuming as could be possible.
Two things betrayed that. The first was his reaction, or lack thereof, to his master's death. Granted, he had not yet even had the chance to solidify a contract with the woman, but his withdrawn expression and arm folded across his chest and clutching his side suggested that he was much more introverted and concerned for himself.
But his eyes belied even that. They were filled with such a deep and profound sorrow even before Kotomine had struck at his master. What was one more drop of pain in an ocean of suffering?
Deny it as he might, Kotomine enjoyed every second of it. This boy's mere presence was enough to satiate even the fake priest's blasphemous desire for the pain of others. However, the servant himself was an anomaly, and Kotomine had not caused that pain himself.
The fact that his malicious act had barely registered against whatever it was that had caused this suffering was something that was annoying Kotomine on a fundamental level. And this was not the hound of ulster.
Bazett Fraga McRemitz, an enforcer from the mages association and the summoner of this servant, she had meant to summon her idol. Kotomine knew this, and while it was far from impossible that she'd fail to do so, he could not help but feel surprised by this outcome. Moreover, he could not understand how this could be a heroic spirit.
Stoically transferring the command seals from the severed appendage to his left hand with the incantation learned from his father ten years ago, Kirei addressed the spirit in front of him.
"Your summoner is no longer a master. What will you do? Will you form a new contract with me as your master?" Kotomine entoned quietly.
The servant said nothing, standing there quietly.
"Or will you fade away?"
The boy remained still, but Kotomine could see him flinch in his eyes, something striking home.
"..."
A strange servant indeed.
Two days before...
The man smiled. His summoning had been successful, and the grail had provided him with a servant. He was somewhat dissapointed though, as he had been hoping for a woman. The chance to dominate the will of a powerful woman was something he would have jumped at, but his chances at winning the grail were surely greater with a man. After all, he could always wish for such upon obtaining the grail...
His name was Wendell Lowe, a lesser magus from the clocktower. Although the association had been wary about this war, what with it begin fifty years too early and considering the clusterfuck the previous war had been, and had sent an enforcer this time with the intent to moderate it more closely before making any decisions, Wendell had decided to jump ship and try his hand at it anyway.
He was used to being ignored, but sick of the way his associated treated him just because his magic was so limited. He'd show them. He'd show them all.
Smiling widely, he lifted his arm to show his command seals to the servant before him.
"Hear me servant! I am your master!"
The man before him, shrouded in dust from the dissipating maelstrom of the summoning ceremony, lifted his head. Black blue hair tied in a ponytail swayed ominously, the man clad in a camo patterned shirt, a green jacket and cargo pants, black boots and gloves, made eye contact with his master.
Despite himself, Wendell shivered. One eye a cold blue, tilted slightly in his chilling smile that suggested he found something deeply humorous about this situation, held his attention for only an instant. It was his right eye, blood red with what looked like the kanji for the number six instead of a pupil, that had him unnerved.
The man loosed a bizarre chuckle, lifting a hand to his brow.
"Oh? Is that so? Well then, what is your intention, my master?" He drawled. Wendell missed the intonation of the word "master" at the end.
"I intend," Wendell spoke when he could finally unstick his jaw, "to win the grail."
Regaining his confidence, he spoke louder. "And you, my servant, will claim it for me. What is your name?"
That chuckle again. "That is hardly of consequence. My class, however, is that of Caster."
Wendell frowned at the disrespect but shrugged it of in favor of a stinging comment.
"Caster? A shame, to have summoned the weakest of the classes."
Caster's eyes flashed dangerously, but Wendell paid no heed.
"Very well. This can be worked around. Here me, servant! My command is law, you will do as I say and we will annihilate the other masters, then leave their servants to fade away with no source of power. You will wait in the shadows and let them pick each other off, then strike when they are at their weakest and leave none alive."
By now, Wendell was practically frothing at the mouth from excitement. Only absently did he notice the soft glow of a ring on Caster's finger.
"Ah, well, there is a slight flaw in your plan, master."
Wendell faltered. "And what is that?"
That chuckle again...
Searing pain filled his senses. In agony, Wendell craned his neck to see the weapon embedded in his back, three prongs piercing his flesh.
In front of him, the image of Caster that had stood there slowly faded away, while the servant was now clearly standing behind him, having impaled him with what appeared to be a trident.
"It isn't I who will be doing the fighting you see." Caster spoke, no longer able to contain the mirth and venom from leaking out in his tone in equal measure.
Caster's red eye glowed ominously, the kanji holding Wendell's gaze.
In horror he could only stare as control was wrenched away from him.
"It's you."
Hours before...
Shirou couldn't help but feel a little guilty walking home this late. Even if he himself wasn't particularly concerned, both his underclassman and close friend Sakura and his homeroom teacher Fujimura Taiga had warned him about being out after dark.
Over the past few days numerous reports on the news of strange deaths and even stranger attacks in the Fuyuki area were making people nervous. Granted none of them had been particularly close to his home, but he could understand the concern.
Groups of people were being found passed out in their homes, alive but nonetheless completely unconscious. The reporters were blaming gas leaks, but some people were being found in a similar state out on the street, just passed out on the pavement. The circumstances were different but the result was the same.
Weirder still were the deaths.
A lot of people were suddenly dropping dead of seemingly natural causes or bizarre accidents, and not just in Fuyuki either.
What was weird was that no matter how many pictures he saw of the latest victims, he couldn't seem to empathize with them. For Shirou, someone who thoroughly believed in the righteous path of a hero that he'd inherited from his foster father, it felt weird that he didn't feel sorry for these victims.
The obvious reason would be that they all seemed to be bad people, but surely even they didn't deserve to be dealt such a cruel hand by fate so suddenly... right? Moreover, this was all assuming there was something in common between them, when they were clearly unrelated. In fact, the only thing that linked all these deaths was how there were so many happening in such typical ways.
Between the supposed gas, the random deaths and the general panic they were causing, people were being advised to stay off the streets at night and lock up their homes. Yet here Shirou was, walking home in the dark, because he'd stubbornly gone to his part time job. He didn't even particularly need the money, it just felt good to help out. He felt a little guilty for indulging his own desire to help people over following his friend's advice. After all, they were just worried about him.
Passing the back of his school, he heard a loud crashing sound, pausing in surprise, he glanced in the direction it came from. Nothing was there but the empty schoolyard, so he shrugged it off and made to continue on his way until there was another crashing sound. Then another. Then a cacophony of clanging sounds. Pausing again, before he could consider what he'd heard there was a blur of motion over the school roof.
It was several minutes before Shirou's mind could process what exactly he was seeing.
From over the roof came bounding a man in a white coat, a bright blue spiderweb shaped construct of light in his hand, the other held back as if drawing a bow. Following after him came a shorter person, a boy in somewhat normal clothes but with an enormous crimson two pronged spear in his hands, angled low and threatening.
The white one sharply pulled his back hand, bringing with it a trail of blue, and a burst of light shot from the front at high speed at the spearman. Dodging nimbly, he continued to advance. Unperturbed, the white one loosed several more glowing projectiles, which shattered tiles as they flew past their target whose agility rendered the attacks futile.
The white man scoffed, then as the spearman got close he vanished, reappearing startlingly much closer to Shirou in the yard on the ground, bow aimed high. Drawing his arm back again, this time he loosed a stream of projectiles, too many to count and much faster than before. The spearman spun his weapon, bobbed and weaved around the spectral arrows, deflecting those that got too close, and surging down the side of the building. The moment he touched the ground, he erupted forward in startling display of speed spear thrusting forward.
Unconcerned, the white man grabbed a metallic tube from his belt with his free hand and swung it to meet the thrust. With a hiss, a blade of blue light burst forth from the end of the tube, and clashed with the center of the pronged spear, holding it back.
The spearman glared and began to force the weapon back, when suddenly the white man vanished again as before, this time reappearing on the roof behind him, where another person had appeared. From where he stood, Shirou could not make out the third figure other than the fact that they looked familiar. It briefly occurred to him that he should probably run before they noticed him. If those two were anything to go by, these people meant serious business, and they were willing to kill. What's more, from how they fought they could be magi, and if they discovered him he'd be in serious shit.
That moment of hesitation where he tried to discern the third figure cost him dearly.
From his place on the roof next to his master, Archer surveyed his opponent. The last exchange had made their relative strengths clear. While this his opponent was physically stronger than him up close, as well as much more agile, Archer was overall faster thanks to his speed technique. He was also more than capable of fending off an attack up close long enough to widen the gap once more.
Their respective noble phantasms, however... while Archer was confident he could nail the servant faster than he could react if he upped the ante, that red spear was still an unknown element. And if his suspicion was correct, no amount of research would yield any information about it either.
It was probably wisest to withdraw now and call it a night. His master had seen what he could do, they'd encountered another servant and seen him fight, he'd memorized the feel of his prana so he could find him again at any time with his superior sensing ability and revealing any more tonight would be foolish. They never knew who might be watching.
Speaking of which, while still engaged in his staring contest with the non too conversational servant below, Archer briefly checked the immediate area with his spiritual senses. He could notice another servant before they were close enough to notice him, of that he was sure, and in this way he could prevent conflict with another servant if he didn't have to.
If Assassin was around he wasn't confident he would detect him, but he would definitely notice if said servant went on the attack as his presence concealment dropped. However, it wouldn't do to let any other servants get the drop on them. Familiars he would mostly ignore, since he wasn't giving much away, and if he detected any masters from their link with their servant he would have to notify Rin and act accordingly.
Sensing neither masters nor other servants, he returned to the matter at hand. Well, he would have, if something hadn't seemed off. Tentatively, he checked again, and froze. Glancing slightly up, he spotted him. On the far side of the yard, by the gates stood a boy. Possibly a magus, by the feel of him, but definitely no master. A civilian. And he had seen them. His gaping expression confirmed that much.
Unfortunately, the other servant noticed his gaze, and glanced back.
"Ah." The servant finally spoke. "this is a problem."
The boy bolted, sprinting down the street.
The servant shot after him.
"Archer!" Rin shouted.
"I know." Archer grabbed his master by the waist and leapt to the ground in pursuit. He dared not go too fast while carrying her for fear of harming his comparably fragile master. People weren't built to withstand that kind of force, magus or not.
Archer grit his teeth.
This was a grievous oversight on his part and he knew it.
"Crap crap crap crap crap-" Shirou sped down the road in a panic. No-one was around, no-one could see him and a madman with a weapon was chasing him.
Before his frantic mind could even properly catch up with his situation enough to decide what to do next short of running away as fast as he could, the spearman was in front of him once again, having leapt an unnatural distance over him smoothly.
Shirou ground to a halt, freezing up in fear. This just isn't fair...
"Sorry," the spearman murmured quietly, "but my master made it very clear. No witnesses."
A twisted look on his face, he leveled the spear... And ran him through.
"Agh!" Shirou sat bolt upright, hyperventilating. He was sprawled on the street, no sign of anyone else around.
"Wha... how?" Reflexively checking his chest he confirmed that was was indeed missing the additional pair of ventilation shafts to his lungs that he had been expecting. However, his shirt was torn where those prongs had surely been.
"...The... hell?"
Standing shakily to his feet, he noticed something lying on the ground. Stooping to pick it up, he held it out in front of himself.
"A pendant?" He asked no-one in particular.
Suddenly very aware of how exposed he still was, he pocketed the item and began jogging quickly back to his home.
"...Master..?"
"Don't talk to me!"
Rin paced around her kitchen in frustration. Not only had that idiot shown up at the worst possible time, but he'd gone and nearly got himself killed! Worse, she had wasted years worth of stored energy in the gem of a priceless family heirloom to revive him, and then in her embarrassed rush to get home while trying to ignore the inevitable scolding from her servant she had gone and left it behind by mistake!
"...Master..."
"I said don't!"
Archer was going to reprimand her for not only saving a witness, but also failing to modify his memory, something that was strictly against the rules of the war.
But what was she supposed to do damn it? If he didn't remember that his idiocy had nearly made him bite the big one, then when he got up again he'd simply return to casually wandering around at night like that!
Rin was close to pulling out her hair and Archer was getting annoyed.
"MASTER."
"WHAT?" She shouted.
"Exactly what do you think Lancer will do when he discovers the witness he tried to dispose of has survived?"
Silence.
Rin shot back out the door.
Rolling his eyes, Archer followed his whimsical master.
Shirou had finally reached the safety of his home in relief, when not even ten feet down the path to his front door the bounded field triggered a warning in his head.
This bounded field, set up by his adopted father long ago, was only meant to detect one thing.
When someone with harmful intentions had entered.
"You should be dead."
Breathing heavily, Rin ran straight towards where she knew the idiot lived. But even if she could keep this pace up, it would be ten minutes at best before she got there. He could be dead by then, heck he could be dead by now!
Yelping in an undignified manner, Rin was scooped up by her servant who took to the rooftops.
"Some warning would be nice!"
"My apologies master, but I was under the impression that time is of the essence."
Rin blinked owlishly, then turned her head away, red faced.
"Yeah. Just hurry. It would be a shame to have wasted that effort for nothing."
Shirou flew bodily into his workshop, the worn doors giving way under the force and dust flying everywhere. Skidding to a halt over a faded old circle on the floor, Shirou groaned, looking at the metal poster in his hand - the only thing tough enough he could find to reinforce in a vain attempt to stave off certain death.
It was shorn off at the middle. It had offered little to no resistance against that distorted spear.
Dropping the remains of the useless weapon, he frantically swept his gaze over the other things in the shed, looking for something, anything, that could help.
It was far too late for that. The spearman advanced through the frame, standing on the broken wooden remains of what used to be a door.
"I don't get it."
He leveled his weapon.
Blinding light.
"I ask of you. Are you my master?"
