I forgot the legal stuff. TYPE-MOON, ETC, MOST CHARACTERS HERE ARE THE WORKS OF NASU. I'd also like to personally thank each and every one of my readers and reviewers. As always, if you spot an error or disagree with something, please go ahead and send me a message. I'll be more than happy to discuss it at length.

"I see…"

The King of Heroes paced warily around the throne room.

The basic premise of things, insofar as he could gather from Locke's rapid-fire feed of information is that the world is thrown into chaos because of something that happened during the previous Heaven's Feel. Something about a taint in the mechanism, and an inherent flaw in the design of the Heaven's Feel that's causing all of this to happen.

According to Locke, the Grail is a logical and methodical entity, and incapable of acting illogically. The Grail was not destroyed during the fourth Heaven's Feel, though its physical entity was destroyed because he was still remaining. However, it appeared that the wish Saber and Shirou made was to destroy it completely. Thus, Saber's attempts at destroying it created a paradox that it must prevent.

Its solution was simple. Remove the threat through manipulation of various myths that makes up the basis of the Servant system and seal the Servants that participated in the fifth Heaven's Feel.

Here, however, is where it went wrong. During this process, the Grail someone made an error. Instead of fully sealing away the Servants, it now weakened or partially sealed away all of the legends of humanity that has ever existed. Monsters now walk free on the modern day earth – because its slayer was not present; creatures that only existed in myths or the minds of children appear in broad daylight.

Currently, it is powerless – having expended all of its energy in the process. The damage, however, had been done. Time and space have been distorted, and it was only a matter of time before the world is destroyed by any number of eldritch horrors, crazed demigods or raging monsters.

"…However, we must keep in mind one thing: The Grail itself is evil by nature. In other words, the wishes it grant is through pure power – power generated through destruction. The souls of seven Servants are required to power it completely, though you know in certain other cases destruction also works…"

Gilgamesh listened to the philosopher ramble onward. He had known the Grail to be a tainted object – how could he forget?

"Anyways, I picked you because you knew it for what it is firsthand – you were literally drenched in that stuff! Obviously, you are…"

Ah, yes. Gilgamesh mused. He's been having a lot of flashbacks lately. That did happen once, a long time ago…


"I didn't ask for your opinion, mongrel."

Gilgamesh smirked as he snapped his finger and another sword from the Gate of Babylon flew out. It exploded mere inches away from Saber's face.

He laughed. This was amusing – to a certain extent. All of these "Heroic Spirits" were still incomparable with him.

"Come, let me hear your words. I know what the answer is, but I'm interested in the manner in which you will utter –"

"I REFUSE! I-"

A blade pierced her left leg. He laughed, listening to her gasp in pain. The theatre itself was completely ablaze with an unnatural fire at this point. He wondered where Kotomine was, but the thought quickly pushed itself out of his mind. He will have some fun with this one first.

"Your answer is incorrect. But I'm in a forgiving mood. Let's hear it."

He watched the young woman before him struggle. Her armor in tatters, her spirit almost broken from the previous battle, he found her to fascinating – a worthy new toy to add to his treasury. Breathing heavily, she leaned on her invisible blade. Her furious green eyes glared at him as she spat out her response.

"Never."

"Never say never," Gilgamesh laughed again and turned around, surveying the magnificent array of weapons before him. Which one should he use next? He was not one bit worried about his opponent – she wouldn't dare to try Excalibur on him anyways, with the Holy Grail at his back. The chances of she destroying it was much too high, and oh, how she desperately wanted the Grail! It was funny to watch.

Suddenly, a huge whirlwind buffeted him. Shielding his eyes from the sheer intensity, the King of Heroes turned around as his eyes widened in shock. Saber's sword is glowing, and he could clearly see the writing on the blade. This could only mean one thing…

"Wh-What?! What are you doing?"

Her beautiful features contorted in pain as she lifted Excalibur into an overhand position. It was the first and only time he had ever seen her show any signs of fear. Fear…and something else. Pain of betrayal?

"Not…not my doing!!" She screamed, tears freely streaming down her face. Struggling to keep Excalibur above her head – a fully powered Excalibur that shouldn't be possible in her current condition, unless it was -

The mongrel master!

In that instant, Gilgamesh understood. Yes. He had ignored the presence of Saber's master. Boiling with fury, he directed his entire arsenal at the magus.

Raising his hand high, the Reiju on Kiritsugu's hand glowed fiercely as he mouthed the final words that concluded the Fourth Heaven's Feel.

"By my third and final command. Saber. Eliminate the Holy Grail."

Excalibur erupted with energy as a golden beam of light headed straight for the Holy Grail. Leaping out of the way, Gilgamesh shook his head. Such a terrible waste –

It was then he saw the Grail for what it really was. It was a gaping black hole, a rip in reality itself. Oozing a filthy, black mud, the dark substance cascaded from the hole generated in reality.

"Th-this is?!"

His eyes widened in shock as the mud containing all the sins of the world swept him away.

"Dear Gilgamesh. Are you listening?"

Gilgamesh blinked. An accusatory finger was pointed at him. Locke seemed to be a little annoyed.

"Sorry," the King of Heroes muttered as he sat back down. "I got distracted."

"Just as well," the philosopher sighed and waved his hand dismissively. "Have you any questions?"

"Um…could you go over everything you said again?"

Locke sighed again as he plopped down on a nearby couch, his strange white tablet following him.

"I suppose. We've got all the time in the world. Which part do you need retelling?"

Where was he?

Why was he not dead?

A man picked himself up from the damp floor.

He was pierced by a thousand weapons. She had died trying to shield him, to no avail. He could remember her face, but not her name, or her identity. Who was she?

For that matter, who was he? Why is he still alive?

He looked around the space. Rubble filled the area and trapped him in a stony prison. Broken pillars and giant pieces of marble littered the landscape. Large floor tiles lie all about him, some shattered from the impact of rocks. The only light source in the little cleared part he was in was a strangely shaped dagger that glowed with an iridescent light. Strangely jagged and shaped like a stylized lightning bolt, it glittered, as if beckoning to him. He reached for it, grasping its jeweled hilt in his hands. It was familiar.

Memories began to return to him. Slowly, but surely. His name was Soichirou. Soichirou Kuzuki. This dagger was hers. Its name was…

Rule breaker, she murmured as she caressed his head. A fitting name for a weapon that belonged to someone like her, who broke many rules for the sake of her -

Kuzuki struggled to his feet, ignoring a flash of pain from the rest of his body. He tried to remember something about himself. He was a schoolteacher. He taught …something. Ethics. And History. That was it. History. History of the World. Why was he a teacher?

Memories of his life as an assassin flooded back. So did the events surrounding the Heaven's Feel. The teacher was just a mask for his true purpose. Which was…

Which was what? What was his true purpose?

He had no answer to that.

Kuzuki surveyed the stony ruins that he was in. Regardless of what his purpose in life was, he should probably try to get himself out first. He saw a hole in the ceiling. It had been blocked by what must have been a metric ton of rubble. With all probability, he fell through it – landing in this part of the Ryudo temple. Miraculously surviving the golden Servant's hailstorm of blades, he is now trapped underground.

Walking over to a wall, Kuzuki tapped the stone and listened. Indeed. He was trapped underground, with at least half a mile of solid stone between him and open space. He gripped Rule Breaker and tapped it against the stone. Perhaps it could help him?

It was no good. The ornamental dagger barely scratched the hard surface. Pausing, he walked across to the other side and assessed it. A grim smile appeared on his face. Fate had decided to stick him into the literal center of Mount Enzou.

At least he had plenty of time to think about personal issues. With doom before him, and nothing else to distract him, it is probably better to –

Wait, what was that on the floor?

The former teacher kneeled down near the place where he first picked up Rule Breaker. He noticed faint scratches on the floor. No, not scratches. Writing. It was scratched there by an extremely fine instrument. The writing read:

A thousand bows for a worthy master. Will you pay me the honor and respect I deserve?

Puzzled, Kuzuki tapped the large tile. It gave a faint ringing sound, as if it was hollow.

"A thousand bows," he wondered. Not even the Emperor required that many bows. But the scratches were not coincidental. They were made by human hands. He sat there for a long time thinking about it.

Finally, despite his misgivings, he found himself kneeling before the tile. This is stupid, his mind told him.

It passes the time. Another voice in a mind told him. Plus, imagine you're bowing to her.

The thought of a possible smile on her face, when she hears this story...

"Oh, Soichirou-sama...How silly."

Kuzuki smiled awkwardly. He was unused to display of emotions, but sometimes, it did feel good. He made up his mind.

"Alright, unknown master," he said. "Allow me, Soichirou Kuzuki to pay you the respects you deserve."

Straightening his shirt collar, the schoolteacher coughed as he readied himself.

"One!" he counted out loud as he brought his forehead down, pressing it against the cold, stony floor.

There hath he lain for ages and will lie, battening on huge seaworms in his sleep.

The twisted man drew back his hood, revealing a smooth and seemingly youthful face. A circle of nervous policemen pointed their guns at him, their arms shaking. He can taste their fear.

Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; then once by man and angels seen.

Large eyes darted around on his brownish face, scouring for more – evermore. The Text of Ry'leh shrieked in his hand, its grotesque cover twisting in hunger for more souls.

"In roaring he shall rise, and on the surface die," the Caster of the Fourth Heaven's Feel whispered. A tendril shot out beside him, impaling one of the hapless fools who dared to challenge him.

Sounds of gunshot permeated the morning air. Caster, however, was not fazed. Bullets bounced harmlessly off his shield. He gestured again.

"I am fear."

Another police officer was dragged away screaming by the horrors he had called to life. The circle buckled, and then disintegrated as the rest of the task force fled. Chuckling to himself, Caster gestured once more and another mass of tentacles appeared in front of the fleeing officers, cutting off their escape route.

"True terror evolves constantly," Caster continued peacefully, as if he was wholly insensitive to the blood that has now pooled around his feet. "There is a sort of beauty in bloodshed, you know?"

He advanced upon the cowering men and women before him and grandiosely waved. His eyes were full of unbridled malice as he whispered in an ancient tongue.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

Yes. At Ry'leh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

A few blocks away, the three inside the Emiya residence heard the series of gunshots. It only added to the already tense atmosphere.

"Senpai, did you hear that?" Sakura murmured, her voice full of worry. It didn't sound good.

Shirou nodded, but said nothing. He closed the bag he was packing as Ilya shuffled about in the other room.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's probably just trees exploding in the winter."

"Trees don't make noises like that, onii-chan," Ilya answered, a bit tensely. "Besides, it's summertime now."

"You're right. Let's go. We need to get out of here –"

A crash interrupted Shirou's sentence as something dropped from the roof.

Sakura screamed. The thing was from a nightmare of nightmares. A bundle of sickly green tentacles and with a jagged mouth, it moved with an alien sluggishness. It was worse than the worms, worse than anything she had ever seen. Without warning, its tendrils eagerly snaked forward, ready to feed.

Shirou wasn't fazed. He'd seen worse. Shoving Ilya and Sakura behind him, he lunged forward, Kansho and Bakuya appearing in his hands. The thing gave an unearthly shriek as Shirou sliced off one of its tendrils.

"Sakura, Ilya," He yelled. "Run, I'll hold it off!"

He didn't know what it was, but it was chilling to see. It was definitely something evil, and extraordinary. All the same, he hoped to buy his friends a chance to escape.

"Sakura!" Ilya yelled as she pulled on Sakura's arms. "Come on!"

Sparing himself a glance, he turned around and saw Sakura standing there in the same spot, transfixed in horror. Dodging a tentacle and batting away another that was approaching Sakura, Shirou circled the thing warily. He had never seen anything like it before; though it did remind him of something from a story his father had told him when he was little. Screeching, the thing lashed at him. Shirou rolled out of the way.

At last, Sakura regained her common sense. Willing her legs to move, she followed Ilya out of the living room. She hoped Shirou would be alright – it was no use talking to him when his mind was made up.

With a glass of wine in hand, John Locke mulled over his current dilemma.

He had finally gotten through the King of Heroes' head, and managed to explain to him what was going on. Gilgamesh was convinced, though he still remained a little suspicious. Locke understood the suspicion well; anyone with a functional brain wouldn't trust an individual as powerful as he was, especially since he had just blatantly violated most known laws of physics and continuity.

Of course, he couldn't explain who or what he was either, as revealing that piece of information this early on would be significantly disadvantageous if the rest of the world was to have a fighting chance.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to investigate the Grail by going through time and space, fixing up whatever messes it has caused in the first place, and finding allies as we go along?"

"Correct," the philosopher replied.

"And you're leaving me that blank piece of rock to guide me along?"

"Correct again."

"Two questions."

"Go ahead."

"Locke, if you're so powerful, why don't you do it yourself? For that matter, who are you? No, really. Who are you?"

The tone was not accusatory. Merely curious. Curious with a deadly innocence to it.

Locke tensed. He knew this question was coming. Pursing his lips, he thought for a moment and then he clapped his hands together.

"You know what? Let me show you instead. Perhaps the best way to explain is through action. After all, some people are visual learners." Standing up, his jacket billowed slightly as an aura of power emanated from the core of his being.

"Tabula Rasa, Practicus."

The white tablet's surface immediately blinked to life as it stood upright. Numerous documents and writings appeared and disappeared on its surface, flashing as it goes.

"This, Gilgamesh, is an item that rivals your own treasury. My own Noble Phantasm, if you want to call it that. This is the Tabula Rasa - the blank slate in your language. It is the collective philosophical works and ideas of humankind."

Locke waved his hand as his ponytail bobbed in the air. The Tabula Rasa gave off a series of beeps as more and more writings appeared. Some pages lined themselves with a silvery edge, while some others glowed dull. Still some others burned with an arcane fire, while some glistened with dewlike fragrance. Evermoving, everchanging, the papers danced about.

"I am merely a scholar. I study the various philosophies and use them for the greater good, to further humanity. With the ideals presented here, I can literally do anything anyone has ever imagined – even stopping time, for example, as you have seen.

For every positive theory that someone has invented, however, there is almost always something negative. For example, Hobbes' law of control matches John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism, and the two forces cancel each other out. And thus, I am left with only a handful of my notes that I can use to alter fate and destiny – and to help you and mankind's heroes out." Locke smiled as several pieces of paper fell into his hands. "However, a handful's more than enough - enough to get me to the few key places I need. You understand. I do not seek to interfere normally.

As for your second question, Gilgamesh, you can think of me as a guardian figure. Normally, I laze about in my study, drinking tea and chatting with my maid, only coming out of it once in a blue moon – or when something serious happens, like a direct threat to reality. Do you understand now, Gilgamesh? Why I came and asked you?"

Gilgamesh nodded. He has an inkling of an idea now. Furthermore, he was convinced that the man spoke truth. Although technically it was no longer his business to bother with the rest of the world, he is the King of Heroes. To ignore such a request would make him look bad.

"I understand. And I'll do it."

Seeing the smile on Locke's face reminded him of a smile he had seen many years ago. It was a smile of pure satisfaction, like a proud professor who had just seen a prized pupil solve an exceptionally tough problem."

"Good. I will be off. The time barrier of Uruk will be removed at any time you wish for it to be gone. Good luck, King of Heroes. We will meet again."

The philosopher waved his hand and disappeared with one gesture.

Pocketing the Tabula Rasa, Gilgamesh mentally opened his treasury. The Gates of Babylon was pretty much empty at this point, as almost all of the Noble Phantasms in it had been sealed away. One glittering object, however, caught his attention. Its silvery links clinked as he pulled the Chain of Heavens out. This was all he'll need for now – it would be like the old times, when the world still dared to challenge him.

"My lord," a voice behind him almost made him jump. He had forgotten Inanna was there.

"What is it?" The King of Heroes asked. Her anklets jingled as she took a step towards him and kneeled.

"My lord, you will be mingling with commoners and the like in order to recover your treasures, correct?"

"Mhm."

"Then, my lord, please allow me to come with you," Inanna murmured. "because, if my lord'll allow me to say one thing without raising his hand to his maid-servant…"

"Speak," Gilgamesh waved airily.

"My lord isn't really the best when it comes to blending with the populace. His stature and behaviors are too kingly, and he doesn't exhibit the kind of carefulness that a normal, average human being would show."

With that phrase, Inanna bowed her head. She was sure she had stretched her king's grace a little too far this time.

…

Gilgamesh didn't know how to react to the statement. No one, not even the Gods talked to him like that! How dare she criticize him –

But, then again, Inanna hit the nail on the head. A previous Master in a certain Heaven's Feel once told him that he should consider the title of King of Carelessness as his new nickname.

It was true. He didn't know what caution meant. In his current state, having some amount of cautiousness may be useful. But then that would mean that he had to admit that she was right – that he was wrong. He can't be wrong. A king can't be wrong! To be wrong is to be human. A king is no longer human –

Can the king afford to be human? Can a king admit that he have weaknesses?

Gilgamesh huffed. He wasn't about to have a Lockesque philosophical debate going on in his head.

"Your king has promised to not raise his hand against his servant, Inanna. However, it would do well for you to watch your tongue next time," he declared, a little more icily than he would have liked. "You may come along – come along to see that your king can blend in with the commoners perfectly, and that he is just as capable of being careful as any other human being."

A portal opened up beneath his feet as he wrapped the Chain of Heavens around his right hand.

"Let's go."

"Nine hundred and ninety eight!"

Kuzuki was sure that his forehead must be bleeding or at least severely bruised at this point. Still, a sense of stubbornness filled him. It was part of what little personality he had. If he had set his mind upon a task, he will complete it.

Suddenly, he was reminded of an annoying red-headed student he had in his class.

"Nine hundred and ninety nine!"

Emiya. He wondered what Emiya was doing now. Did he manage to get his wish?

"One thousand."

As his head lightly tapped the tile, it shattered into a hundred pieces. Suddenly, his eyes were flooded with brightness. It temporarily blinded him even though his eyes were closed. Opening his eyes slightly, Kuzuki noticed a powerful glow coming from underneath the tile. Curious, he reached towards it…

…and felt something. Was it cloth – no, it was silk. A bundle of silk rolled up neatly and tied with a crimson ribbon. Removing the silken scroll from its hidden location, he blew on it gently and opened it.

The first section of the scroll only displayed four large kanji characters.

"RYUDO SHINKEN."

God Fist of Ryudo? Curious, Kuzuki read on. He had never heard of such an absurd name.

"Having paid me respect and honor, I have determined that the reader here is worthy of inheriting RYUDO SHINKEN, a deadly martial arts style formed first in ancient times.

This art's power lies in channeling one's energy in a single blow and striking one of the 708 Keiraku Hiko , or Hidden Channeling Points in the human body. Correct application of Ryudo Shinken can heal or kill – depending on how one uses the art. Given its nature as an assassination art, however, its killing power is unmatched. There can only be one successor at any given moment."

Assassination? It reminded him of the Snake technique that he was already a master of. He had no interest in such a thing, but he continued to read.

"…The average human being only uses 30% of their potential strength. A master of Ryudo Shinken, however, will be able to tap into the remaining 70%. By using Toki, or the fighting aura of one's spirit, practioners of Ryudo Shinken will be able to boost their abilities even more..."

Flipping through the rest of the scroll, which was full of martial art techniques, he quickly noticed a particular technique.

"Ganzan Ryouzan Ha – Mountain Splitting Wave.

…Focusing all of the power of the arms into one strike, the user is able to strike with great precision and power, easily cleaving apart even mountains, or any solid substance…"

Well, maybe if he just used that one to get himself out, then he could probably return the Ryudo Shinken scroll to the temple's owners. Hopefully, someone else who was interested would be able to take it and hopefully use it.

Sitting down in the proper position, Kuzuki started to follow the complicated diagram. Luckily, it didn't use any of the complicated pressure point positions, so he was able to grasp it quickly.

"Begin by concentrating intently…"

A few seconds more.

Shirou gritted his teeth in frustration. He was badly battered – after all, a mere human like him was not meant to fight such things. Bloody scratches lined his arms and legs and he struggled to keep moving. He knew, however, that if he stopped, they'd all die here.

Just a few seconds more. The girls were near the exit. Then he could make his getaway.

Hissing, the creature seemed to understand his intent and tried to send tentacles past him at every moment. It seemed that for every one he cut down, two more sprung from the black hole that made out of the creature's mouth. That is not to say that the creature remains unharmed, however. Its movements are slower now, and the twitching bits scattered about the floor showed Shirou that it can be taken apart, and gave him a small spark of hope.

Almost there.

Snarling, he threw Kansho at the monster. To his surprise, it flew neatly, returning to his hand with a perfect arc after making a deep gash in the creature. It reeled back in pain.

Not willing to compromise his momentary advantage, Shirou pressed forward with a flurry of strikes. Ichor stained his white shirt green as he hit something vital within that mass of tendrils. It slinked to the floor.

A scream erupted from the doorway. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as another horror erupted from the ground below, knocking down the woodwork that made up the Emiya residence. By now, it was nearly evening. The setting sun bathed everything in its blood-red rays.

No good.

Suddenly, Ilya ran toward him, her white hair flying wildly.

"Onii-chan! I got separated from –"

A beam fell between him and Ilya as the house began to disintegrate, cutting off her words.

"Ilya!" Shirou shouted as he leapt forward – and tripped. A searing pain shot through him. Turning around, he watched in horror as another creature wrapped one of its tentacles around his foot. He immediately sliced at it with Bakuya, but another shot forward, then another. He was quickly being immobilized.

Struggling helplessly, Shirou could only watch as the creature reeled him in closer, into its gaping maw.

Someone help me.

Backed into a corner and separated from her friends, Sakura Mato bit back a whimper as she faced the thing that appeared before her. It seemed to chuckle as the masses of tentacles inched towards her. Slowly, and deliberately. As if it was playing with its prey.

Was she going to die here, all alone?

A white rose petal fell from a nearby row of roses. The beautiful but fragile flowers was all that stood before her and certain death.

Someone help me.

Help me…help me…help me…

The cry for help echoed endlessly, disturbing a hero's long slumber.

All he wanted in the first place was to fulfill his duty – his duty to his love, his ideals, and finally, to his own word. He was done with rescuing damsels and caring for the world. The world has shown him nothing but pain and betrayal.

Fulfilling his duty to love and honor. That was all he wanted. As a Servant in the Fourth Heaven's Feel, he had no regrets, even when he thought back to his long life of suffering. He wanted to return the love that Grainne showed him, and he also understood his king's fury. All of the misfortunes that he had suffered were merely fate playing a prank, which was all.

There is only one life. He didn't want to deny himself anything. He had no regrets, and he certainly didn't want a second chance.

Help me… Help me…

But, what if a second chance was offered to him? If he could be reborn, as a chivalrous knight, then he would be glad to take it. Maybe, if a second chance was offered to him, he could fulfill his vows of loyalty to a new master. Maybe he could make up for his past mistakes.

For Lancer, he didn't need the Grail. His wish was already half-completed as he stood beside his Master. He wanted a chance to redeem himself. With a heart full of honor and care, he fought for his Master.

The result? Another bitter betrayal.

Lancer closed his eyes as he tried to shake the images of the Heaven's Feel out of his mind.

Help me…

And yet, why did it remind him so much of Grainne?

During the time of their relationship, many thought he was the true victim. He didn't think it was the case. She was the one who was misunderstood, never given a chance to speak her mind or to tell of her own sorrows. No one would listen. Or, rather, no one cared.

Always the second fiddle; always used to further the gains and needs of others. Her loved ones, if she had any, did not understand her. Her secret crush, him, was wholly unaware of her existence until that fateful night in which she disclosed everything to him.

He was touched by her genuineness. Something inside the core of his being resonated as she told him everything. She wanted a knight. She wanted someone that will care for her and love her for who she was. All of her pent up emotions, released in that one cry.

Help me…

Was this cry not the same?

Help me…

No matter what the rest of the world was, like Grainne, she was genuine.

Lancer opened his eyes. He cannot bear to ignore the cry of one so innocent, one so desperately wanting to believe.

Flipping lightly to his feet, he mentally reached out, wondering if there's some way to reach the girl who called out to him. To his surprise, he can sense her almost perfectly – it was as if a summoning channel has already been established.

In the name of loyalty, honor, and all that the Fianna stand for, I will stay by your side.

The petal fell to the concrete as Caster's creature reached for Sakura, its gaping mouth open, ready to feast upon her.

Then, suddenly, the thing's advance slowed, for some strange reason. Then it drew back, and twisted in pain.

"GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

It gave an unearthly shriek as Sakura's eyes widened. A beautifully crafted crimson spear was embedded in the thing's center. Immediately, the creature shattered into a thousand pieces as the enchantments binding it to the material plane were absorbed away by the Crimson Rose.

Some stranger nimbly landed before her. His skintight clothing was made out of some material that can no longer be found in this age. Everything, from his grey boots and armguards to his well-toned muscles reminded Sakura of Lancer, but he was clearly someone different. His green eyes were serious, but they were warm. The stranger lifted his right hand as the crimson spear flew back into his hand. Moving with a leonine grace, he walked over and to her great surprise – knelt! – before her.

"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. You called for help. And I answered. Master, your orders?"

Master?

Sakura looked down at her hand. True enough. A rose-shaped emblem had appeared on her hand. What was going on? She thought Shirou and Saber had put a permanent end to the Heaven's Feels?

"I am not … um. I am …"

Speechless, Sakura blushed. She couldn't help but to stare at him. She knew it was rude, but he was so handsome. Noticing her obvious distress, Diarmuid smiled. He had that effect on women due to his Mystic Face, which was a beauty spot that causes women to fall in love with him.

"There are still enemies around the premise. Shall I go take care of them?" Offering a suggestion, Diarmuid watched with amusement as his new master turned redder.

"Yes," Sakura muttered. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, she continued. "Could you go um, save the others please?"

Diarmuid nodded in affirmation as he leapt atop the cracked roof. He had already sensed the presence of two other humans and three of those creatures that he detested.

Caster. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the Irish hero dispatched another small horror that was wandering about the premises. He'll go after the creep later – as soon as he cleared this house first.

Evening time.

All was quiet and peaceful in the Mount Enzou area. Only the faint swishing of grass and leaves told the world that it was alive. Here was where monks meditated on the meaning of life, among other things.

"Ganzan Ryouzan Ha!!"

Suddenly, a shout broke the peaceful atmosphere. A thunderous crash followed the shout as a part of the mountain was instantly blown away, revealing a pile of rubble and a very bewildered Kuzuki Soichirou.

Blinking in surprise, Kuzuki inched forward. He had no idea that the technique would actually work, and he had no understanding of the true power the book contained.

A lucky gift, perhaps? Kuzuki looked to the newly risen evening sky. The stars winked at him.

Or perhaps it was fate. Yes, that must be it. Fate.

He didn't know what to do at this point. All he knew was that he needed to find someone – he needed to thank her for saving him. Or maybe he just wanted to see her again. He didn't know. He'll have time to sort out his own feelings later

Whatever it may be, the former schoolteacher took a step forward as he headed back to his own residence atop Mount Enzou.

If only he looked up – he would have seen a bright comet streaking past the sky.

"I still don't understand why we're waiting here in the middle of the night," muttered Rin as she quietly followed her mentor.

After Clockwork's almost miraculous intervention, Waver had brought her to a secluded spot near Caerleon, insisting that they wait for the "Spirit of Chivalry" to show up. They've been waiting for nearly six hours now, with nothing to show for their efforts.

"Patience, Tohsaka," Waver answered. He poked the fire before him aimlessly. Neither of them really needed it, but he preferred a natural light source over that of the arcane.

The Clock Tower was in utter disarray. All of the higher ranking mages have either mysteriously disappeared or too busy with their own battles to give him any instructions.

He wondered what Alexander would do.

"Worry not, I shall inspire you by charging blindly on!"

A mental image of Alexander riding forward came to mind. Shaking his head again, he quickly pushed it out. Guts and bravado was one thing, but it was definitely not what he needed at the moment.

"Say, professor, what was that book you were about to hand to me anyways?" Rin queried. She wasn't too convinced about Waver's declaration, but she knew better to interrupt him.

"It's a personal copy of the Iliad."

The student cocked her head and gave him a funny stare.

"Iliad? I didn't know you had such good tastes – the last time I checked you were playing Tokimeki Memorial…"

"Hmph. For your information, Tokimeki Memorial have a significantly complicated plot for its time –" Waver began, but quickly swallowed the rest of his explanation. "Anyways, it's beyond your comprehension. You did fail the last literary exam over the Arthurian Traditions, so –"

"That wasn't my fault! That was due to poor grading. How was I supposed to know you wanted an essay on THE bard, instead of any bard in history-"

The little fire flickered and went out. A ghastly wind weaved around the forest as suddenly, a mist rolled in. This was no natural mist, however – it resembled the fog that hid away a certain magical isle from the prying eyes of mankind. Somewhere in the far distance, a horse neighed. Its long whine pierced the silence.

"He's here," Waver murmured as he stood up. Small twinkling things began to wander into the area, illuminating the forest in their tranquil yet dim light. Rin gasped in wonder as she realized what she was seeing.

"Feylight…?" She whispered out loud as one danced near her, its gentle luminescence shifting from one shade to the next. As she reached out to touch it, it quickly hopped away. Smiling, she withdrew to her teacher's side.

The Master Mage nodded. Feylight, or Faerie Fire was the byproduct given off as patterns of light by certain members of the fey realm when they appear to the humans. Comparable to the Aurora Borealis in the northern lands, its beauty was unmatched – even modern mages have trouble conjuring such illusionary lights. Truly, it belonged to legends.

"I, Waver Velvet, Magus of the Clock Tower and my student, Rin Tohsaka seeks an audience with the Lord of the Errant Realms!" He called out into the mist.

As if answering his call, the mist became heavier, more substantial, engulfing Caerleon forest and its two human visitors within. In the distance, a rhythmic clipping sound, like the hooves of a horse can be heard.

"Who is this spirit that you're calling?" Rin asked, holding her breath.

Waver shook his head. He didn't quite know himself. All he knew was that supposedly, there was a knightly spirit who wandered around the forests of Caerleon.

"It is said that some knights have such strong love and loyalty for their country and ideals that their spirits will remain on this plane. I would assume that one such spirit would reside here, considering that Caerleon was said to be the entrance to Avalon – that other realm," the Master Mage answered. "I guess we'll find out. These are dark times. It is said that these spirits remain in eternal slumber until Britain have need of them once more."

The dim outline of a rider clad in green appeared as it rode out from the mists. Holding the reins of a beautiful silver horse, the apparition patted its steed's head as its gallop slowed to a canter, then a slow trot.

"Hwaet."

The charger stopped before the two mages as the knight gestured, greeting the two before it with an ancient salutation. The fluttering banners atop an obviously enchanted lance matched the deep green tabard he wore over the heavy plate mail; its clovered joint-plates met finely wrought steel in a harmony of balance between sturdiness and weight. Long, dark green braids formed a branchlike plume and fell shoulder-length from the knight's cylindrical full helm. The twin narrow eyeslots were completely devoid of any light, although a faint greenish glow can be seen from the edges of its armor. An intricate ivy pattern was etched on the horse's barding, and runes adorned the horse's segmented manefaire. The charger stamped its powerful leg and snorted as its master looked down and introduced himself.

"I am Launfal, the Greene Knyght. What busyness haveth ye yn Caerleon?"

"We…" Waver paused. He wasn't sure, but he was going to go ahead and ask anyways. "We seek your guidance."

"What guydyance dost thy seek? Yn whych matters?"

"He meant to ask, 'why is the world screwed up?'" Rin interjected.

The Green Knight paused a little, as if thinking.

"Screw'd up. Quaynt wodes. Yet there be no myschyef in thy query." It replied. "Mayhaps yt be thy method. The kyng ys no more; the fey realmes disrupted; the fate of the land hanges precaryousely. Beyonde thys, I knoweth no more.

The best answere, methynketh lyes wyth the Lady. I am but a humble errant knyght and knoweth lyttle."

"The Lady?"

"The Lady of the Lake," the Green Knight replied as he lightly climbed off his horse. It was then that Waver noticed that the knight carried two weapons on his back – a powerful looking two handed axe and a sword locked away in its black scabbard. Both weapons hummed with power. Turning his face toward the pair of mages, the Green knight paused once more, and then started to speak.

"The Lady ys one wythe grete wysdom. She wyll have answeres for thee, Waver Velvete, Ryn Tohsaka. Yonder lyeth Avalon, the Lady's Domain."

Raising one mailed fist, the Green Knight pointed from behind him. Rin looked around. She saw nothing – nothing but the thick mists around them.

"through thy own meryts ye have found thys place. The Hearte of Avalon openeth only to those who are pure of hearte."

Swinging the axe in a wide arc, the Green Knight commented.

"That's it? No trials? No knightly challenges? You're just going to let us through like that?"

Rin asked. She peeked at enough of Waver's Arthurian Romances to know that this sounded a little too easy.

"Nay, lass. The days of Launfal the knyght-errant art no more," a hint of humor appeared in the knight's voice as he placed his right hand on his axe and drew it. "I challenge mortals no longer."

Instantly, the fog parted, revealing a shimmering moonlit lake.

Author's notes:

The seals Sakura get aren't command seals – they'll be explained in the next installment.

The Green Knight is technically my character, although I have merged him with Sir Launfal's personality, and more of him will be revealed in the next chapter. Launfal himself is straight out of the Breton Lays, a type of medieval romantic narrative. Most of the legends and abilities of the Green Knight comes from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, a classic English work.