Fate: End the Magic Trailer
Author's note: This is a fic where you make your own OC and with it choose a servant in which he or she convinces said servant to destroy the root of magic. Let your imagination burst into your mind, and I will leave you with this example. This for my version takes place as part of a series of one chapter shots which center around the concept of alternate worlds in IS Valkyrie my previous and ongoing work, you guys can use such a layout with maybe the world system giving a person who died in the fire ten years ago a second chance is one example. But this is mine.
I like fate, as Fate gave me a chance to see my favorite legends except for the ones I didn't know until it was released come to life in a way that somehow thought that rule 63ing King Arthur would make it interesting which it did but still…I can't believe I nearly fapped to that like the others when I read the visual novel. Uh…is this public? Well darn it.
Anyways onwards and to the whole story…uh I mean chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fate: Stay Night or anything else, good to see you and may Typemoon come up with more magic than necessary…Deus Sex Machinima guys, keep it up all of the pervs need it.
Fate: Fall of the Prison
He burned. He was burning, set alight in the warmth and searing flames licking away at his skin melting the fat which had held his body's skin together as he screamed out in both pain and anguish gritting his teeth hard as he tried to move his arm which had been pinned under the rubble, his weakened efforts and choking black fumes in the air adding to the suffering already as he felt his throat gasp out for air which seemed so far away.
"H-Help…help *cough*someone! Please get me out of here-*cough* *hack*!"
There was no answer, rather typical if he had anything to say about it…he did warn himself what would happen if he chose to come here, to surrender himself to the hands of those who were killing his brothers and sisters all around him. A battlefield for a country, unable to come to peace for a long time with religions tearing it apart from all sides screaming for blood had no place for idealism, the dream of a united nation accepting of religious practices achieved through beheadings and mass slaughters…he could still hear it now amongst the rubble, screams of terror and burning bodies caused him to cough once more as he heard the clashing of steel. The sound unsettled him, but he knew it to be true: once again the leaders had come to only war with one another not peace extremists holding the heads of Christians, Muslims and Islamists alike in a reign of terror only left thirsty for more blood. He had had enough of this.
He had to do something…but even with his humanity wishing for life, his logical mind already knew the outcome. For once in the man's life, as he found himself trapped under the rubble of stone and flaming wood under the increasing pressure of the fire which was tormenting him through a slow painful death, he felt both fear and an uneasy peace in his heart. The images of his life came at a fast pace as the fires continued to lick and melt his arteries: from people's faces he stared at before he beheaded them publicly to the time he left his religion due to the violence and taking sanctuary in one of the churches to hide away and atone for the acts of violence he himself had committed before he was disillusioned from his beliefs, each and every memory was revealed to him as if he was living through a sequence. The man wincing and shouting in a hoarse voice as he felt his legs slowly overwhelmed by numbness his eyes blinking in between the realm of consciousness, his eyes rolling up to the distant night clouds signaling the storm which brewed.
"Why…"
Why was God letting them all die? Why couldn't these things be solved? Why was there no justice? But then again, the answer for such a world thriving on many vices and allowance of many things such as this had only one solution. There was no why, there was no way people would simply stop if God himself came down to punish those with his heavenly angels...people would cower, they would fear him and resist further against a God who would resort to violence himself, it would be a cycle without end. Without relief. Just like how he was swept in, before he ran away to the Christians to escape the raging battle and find solace in God's sanctuary to think, to reflect...to admit his wrongs and for that reason he was hunted by those he once called brothers and friends, leading to a mass slaughter of the church and finally the fire that would end it entirely.
His story would end, unjustly as it had been lived before his turning. All he could do, was simply wait to die.
"I just want…another chance…to stop something like this."
He never truly received his answer to his own forgiveness nor had he expected the encroaching darkness that shrouded his vision, only to close his eyes in acceptance as the flames continued to eat away at his flesh barely aware of a small whisper which came from his left ear over the cackles of the hungry fires above filling the midnight sky with floating embers, easily mistaking them for fireflies floating aimlessly amongst the rubble field of debris and corpses.
"Fear not, my child…the killings of these innocents will not be forgotten by the world, nor will they be by me. There are worlds that need aid, outside of this place…that is if you accept. There is a war about to reach its peak, and I need someone to be there to stop it before more lives can be lost to it. This place is that of magic, where you could turn water into blood at the dip of your fingers and experiments of ruthless and utter dehumanization of morality are committed without a thought in the world. People whom I gave my gifts to abused such power for their own good, twisting the world into a system where souls can be confined without a thought for more war...that is what I plan, but are you ready to help me fulfill this plan? Will you be willing to live again, to help these children of war and stop a mad war which raged four times?"
I...do...
"With these words, your name shall no longer mean the red in which blood flowed by your hands for the sake of revenge and pain you inflicted on families during your time. You are reborn, I rename you Amos, the bearer of burdens who strode out of the religious war scarred and broken, but held your beliefs steadfastly in leaving that life behind and acknowledged the sins you willingly acted. Your own cry for justice and redemption of past sins made in your past have been answered while so many others do not share the same view...go forth, messenger, and end the Third Magic."
Unknown location
The man felt himself being torn, as if he was being thrown headlong into a waterwheel surprising him as he opened his eyes while two outstretched hands grabbing out blindly into the bright white light opening up like a veil engulfing the man in its wholeness letting out a shocked yelp while his feet tumbled to the floor tripping onto something hard like stone upon exiting the white space. Waving his hands out he noticed that he was staring at long thin iron bars stretching diagonally as he knelt forcefully onto his knees feeling bone hit brick earning a sharp jolt of pain causing him to bit his lower lip while rolling to his side on instinct.
"MMMMMMFFFFFUUUUU-"The man hiss and choked on his own saliva which had been gracious enough to clog itself up in his throat making it jump and hitch when he was about to begin his string of angry shouts and ranting, whatever he was about to speak was lost in the sea of chokes and coughs the man feeling his throat go dry while the trail of saliva began to trail from the corner of his mouth wetting the floor the trail forming into a tiny puddle. Getting to his senses after a countless period of him curling into a small ball all the while nursing his knees which were reverberating vibrations from the impact, the man thought it would be best for him to stay still for the moment spending some time to focus on something else entirely.
"Oh that hurts like a serious, ow…it is painful." The man bit his tongue after his words to alleviate the situation he found himself in as the pain began to subside well enough for the man to feel his legs being able to move, the man stretching his limbs slowly as he only felt soreness remain before he could roll over on his back going into a kneel the man crouching quickly to avoid massaging his own kneecaps against the hard red brick road turning his neck side to side feeling the crack in his bone. Relaxing tense shoulders as he rose up to stand up placing his hands to his knees carefully massaging it, the man breathed a sigh of relief patting his jean legs down muttering to himself while glancing at his surroundings which was modern with a row of lampposts shining orange lights down onto the red brick road lined beside European styled houses, it would have fooled him to think that he had just stumbled out of his house drunk than being teleported right on the other side of the world in the blink of an eye. Patting his pants legs, the man breathed a sigh of wonder at the new environment he just entered from his little swim in the heavenly light he was moving towards feeling a little thrown off balance by what he had witnessed, blinking slightly as the words sounded quietly in his head.
End it…the Third Magic
"Was that…?" The man's thoughts ended in mid-sentence as he wiped his brow which was beginning to sweat a little in the warm night, the man shaking his head as he tried to process the conversation he had. Getting nothing more than the words he was hearing whispering in the back of his mind, the young man bit his tongue releasing it into a click striking against the roof of his mouth cavity as he began to roll his shoulders shifting his neck side to side.
"That was Him, wasn't it?"
There was no answer, not for him anyway as the wind swirled and howled around him suddenly causing him to instinctively grab his collar of his jacket bringing it up to his mouth. Immediately he felt the rough fabric which he had snatched up to cover his mouth, the man looking down in confusion due to his fuzzy memory unable to recall any warm clothing he had taken with him for his trip outside. What he saw fascinated him, the man caressing the fabric in his hand unsure of what he was seeing before a small chuckle escaped him after a few seconds his dull eyes which had once seen death began to acquire its' light, his hand revealing the woolen fabric of a grey scarf wrapped around his throat snugly behind the buttoned hoodie jacket which reached waist length giving him a casual appearance, the hood resting behind his neck nestled for use. Looking at a glance to his feet he could make out the soles of comfortable white with blue streaked sneakers and his pants replacing the jeans with a dirty brown colored baggy pants which did not pool around his soles rather there were elastic bands to clap around his ankle.
"…weird style, but cool nonetheless." He commented after looking into himself a few seconds in criticism over his own dress code before he just shrugged, least the jacket wasn't that formal or it would have ruined the outlook. Then again he couldn't say anything about the style he was given, considering the fact that he had just came face to face with God and was revived for a new path and from hearing what was said to him, there was a small window of opportunity which placed him right in the middle of the fight. A very sad position for him to find himself embroiled in as he got up, wiping the dust from his eyes as he drew a shallow breath noting the lights which flickered in the distance as he heard a distant sound scratching against the brick surface getting closer to him, catching him off guard and causing him to jump slightly.
"Someone's coming, gotta hide for now." He muttered as he dived into a nearby bush despite common sense screaming at him to simply wait it out and approach whoever came into view, however the man felt a shiver in the air as the once peaceful aura was consumed by a distorted yet eerie silence prompting his survival instincts to act instead which in the years he had lived before his untimely death, was something he trusted more than anything else in the world. Anything, even the mistake of waiting out in an abandoned area with no humans present was something that can kill you on the battlefield…he found that out the hard way and that decision cost him his life. Shaking the prickly feeling of something digging into his skin he hardly noticed the thud of metal hitting his back, eyeing three figures walking in the distance towards his direction the man sinking deeper into the bushes ignoring the sudden vision of his hometown coming back to him, back when he remembered a promise of vengeance and his headless father who threw himself right into the arms of their aggressors wild eyed with screams of terror-
"No more, not again…there will be no more slaughter, no more killing. If this…Holy Grail War demands sacrifices, this I will not forgive…not like it again, no likes of it must ever start again if I have a say in it." This he did promise to the God who resurrected him, the only redemption he could do to take away his mind from the things he himself had done and the only way he could put his life on the line to save others preventing such a horrible fate. He will not bow, not to a warped religious teacher, not to a disillusioned leader of blood and violence, and certainly he will not stand by while this Holy Grail ripped asunder an entire city if he could fight to defend those who would be prey.
But he had to wait, there was no way he would throw himself in harm's way so easily and the strangers, particularly one he noticed standing out of the trio through a coat of yellow exuded an unknown energy he wasn't physically prepared for and he knew it…he had to be cautious. The silence and darkness gave him pause as he froze up on the spot noting the footsteps moving past the shrubs where he was hidden in wondering if they did not see him, tensing his muscles as he froze reading the notable power swirling around the figure in the yellow raincoat walking beside a girl in a red coat covering her body unbuttoned revealing a school uniform underneath and black skirt fitting her slim weak form as she was heard talking, if you could call tossing small insults a proper conversation to a boy who stood out as much to the man as the figure hidden in the raincoat sporting a full head of red hair while dressed in his school uniform which consisted of a light brown pants and buttoned up jacket, the boy answering the girl's insults with simple statements and passing comments.
"Who are they?" He muttered, particularly eyeing the hooded compatriot as they headed off into the distance the darkness and the lack of lamps on either side of the brick road overcasting a shadow over them the man waited a few more seconds before he moved out of the shrubs when he was certain they had gone on ahead, standing up to brush the stray leaves that was trapped in his jacket as he felt the thud against his back again his attention shifting to his back. Curiously he reached down his back and felt a wooden stock, the man's eyes widening in some recognition before pulling it over his shoulder carefully the stock had a familiar touch to it, smoothed out petrified wood greeted and teased his fingertips with a warm gentle feeling of smoothness.
"This stock…could it?" He didn't need to answer it aloud as his view was soon occupied by the length of a barrel polished with oil, the sight stunning him momentarily. It was here, here in his hands after a few years of throwing it away into the river…swearing off an old life to usher in the new he had committed it to the waters, and now the weapon had returned ready to be used as the day he first acquired it. He caressed the gun with a nostalgic sigh, his fingers tracing every part and crevice of the double barreled shotgun lying in his hands uncertainty yet the feel of the weapon gave him a sense of security rather than being intimidating or reminiscent of his own past.
"We meet again." He held the gun close towards his chest as if he had met an old friend for the first time in years, feeling no aura of malice emanating from the tool of murder he used to call friend in the jungles or the villages of Southeast Asia, the only one he called family since his loss.
"Let us end this senseless war, Marie. There will be no sacrifices or even more lives lost today."
End
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to comment on it or voice your thoughts.