A/N: Kek. This is the new and improved version of Chapter 1. Thank, Mac, for helping me with it!

I hope it's satisfactory. It goes without saying that all FSN related original characters belong to Type-Moon and that sort of disclaimer stuff. Need to thank Mac and Ted for reading over this and giving me tips. etc. Thanks, guys.

Fate Stay Night: Chapter 1, part I


Fate Stay Night: C2.

A kettle whistled lightly as it boiled. Shirou quickly took it off the stove and poured some hot water into a blue porcelain teapot.

Mm. Nothing like a hot cup of tea in the afternoon.

Shirou stirred his cup of green lemon tea with a small spoon. After the minor fiasco with the fridge (which he did reverse the damage, thankfully) and a rousing game of Twister (which ended up in a mess because Ilya tripped and knocked Rin over, with the result of everyone landing on him), he decided to unwind for the afternoon.

He looked at his tea. Shirou was never a fan of strong alcohol or fizzy sweet drinks, preferring the soothing aroma of his tea. He used to like red, but for some reason he stopped brewing it. Taking a sip of his beverage, Shirou allowed his mind to wander. Not surprisingly, he began to daydream about a certain individual again…

I wonder where she is now… I have always wondered about the choices I made. Should I have done what was needed, or should I have followed my heart? I miss her.

Do you regret what was done?

No. I do not. Looking back, I realize that deep down inside, that was what I had to do. Though I wanted her to stay with me, though I wanted to be selfish, I could not abandon my ideals. I could not ignore what was right!

And besides, alls well that ends well. Even if I have the ability to alter the past, I do not think I would change anything. For then, it would not have been me doing the choosing.

Still, to think if there was any other way-

A loud tap on the front door quickly knocked Shirou out of his reverie. He bounced up from his seat and looked at the door. The tapping continued.

Must be those lousy door-to-door salesmen again…I thought I already told them we're not buying atomic powered pickle-slicer bottle opener toothbrushes or whatever they were selling…

With a grimace, Shirou placed his hand on the doorknob and deftly twisted. The door slowly creaked open. He poked his head out, expecting to see another snazzy dressed, well-mannered but pesky road-warrior hell-bent on cajoling his money out of him.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we're not interested in whatever you're selling. Please go away-"

Shirou did not see a door-to-door salesman. He didn't even see something remotely human. What he did see was a familiar gargantuan ashen axe-club. The weapon was colossal, with the head of the axe being at least two feet long. The gray material appeared to be exceptionally heavy but shone with a dull glow as if it was enchanted.

That looks familiar…

Staring in morbid fascination, Shirou looked at the muscular arm that held the mace. A part of him screamed and told him to run, run as fast as he could, but he remained in the same location, unable to move.

The wielder of the axe-club was no less impressive then the weapon itself. Standing over two and half meters, the adamantine skin gave him a tough appearance. Clad in a plated kilt and heavy greaves, with dark, matted hair, Shirou's visitor would put any bodybuilder to shame. This being was raw brute power incarnate.

"B…B-B..Berserker!" Shirou yowled. He was definitely not expecting this to happen.

What is going on? I thought the Grail war was over!

Berserker snarled and lifted his club, prepared to strike.

Shirou quickly gathered his thoughts and contemplated a path of action. He considered tracing Calibourn. He also considered fainting. As he decided on the first method, he heard the whistle of a large heavy object traveling rapidly through the air.

Jamming his eyes shut, Shirou waited for the end.

It never came; instead, he was met with booming laughter. Confused, Shirou hesitantly opened his eyes again.

Wait a minute. Is Berserker…laughing?

The massive warrior was indeed guffawing as he placed his weapon down. Shirou peered at the giant.

"Ahahaha! I can't believe you fell for that old trick! You should have seen your face there, Oh mighty-hero-of-the-Grail!" chortled a voice behind him. Surprised, Shirou turned around…

…And saw a familiar being sitting on his couch. Wearing a tight sapphire colored suit, silvery pauldron gleaming in the afternoon sun, this second person was nothing like Berserker. With his ultramarine hair (complete with ponytail), azure earrings, and well-shined boots, he resembled not so much the hero of yore but rather a charismatic pop-star that would not have looked out of place in a local concert. However, judging from his agile movements, carefree attitude, and that long spear, with its pattern of blood red ivy and the barbed tip resting comfortably in his lap…there could be only one man in all of time that behaved as such.

"Nice tea you got there, Shirou. Looks nice, and smells nice too! Mind if I help myself?" said Lancer as he stretched, yawned, reached toward the teapot, and poured himself a cup. Popping back down on the couch, Lancer nimbly twisted Gae Bolg and snagged himself a package of cookies from a nearby shelf.

"Uh…" Shirou nodded dumbly, his brain absorbing and analyzing everything that had happened during the past minute. Too much was happening at the same time. He was confused, and just didn't know what was going on.

The sound of a door being opened to his side brought him back to the present.

"Shirou! What happened- HOLY! Lancer? Berserker? Why- How, wha-what is going on here?"

It was the first time Shirou has ever seen a shocked Rin. He'd seen her alarmed, afraid perhaps, but never genuinely surprised. Ilya, who followed along seemed to be just as wordless as he was.

An uncomfortable silence followed, with the magicians gawking and the Epic Spirits staring, neither side making a move.

It was Lancer who broke the silence.

"Cookie?" he offered, with his mouth still full, and thrust the pack at Rin. "They're really pretty good."

Rin regained her composure, thoughtfully took one, and chuckled. Suddenly, the tense atmosphere was broken as everyone laughed or sighed in relief (as in the case of Shirou). Ilya spoke.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"It is a long story." Berserker rumbled in his baritone voice.

"We have time," replied Shirou, who had just now begun to understand the events that had passed.

"Why don't we settle down first? I'm sure we all have something to share."


Berserker sat down on the floor. Compared to his spartan lifestyle, it was comfortable.

Where to begin… he mused. In truth, he did not know. He did not understand everything either, for he was a simple fighter. Berserker cleared his throat.

"Well. Allow me to explain the pieces that I understand. You knew me as Berserker, as well as by my true identity, Hercules. After the Fifth Grail War, I thought my torment was over, that I could finally return to my own time and live among my people. That was not the case."

"Wait. WAIT. Before you start the story, why are you and Lancer here?" asked a puzzled Shirou, who was still attempting to grasp the concept that he was speaking to a (supposedly) mad and powerful giant who a few months ago wanted to bash his head on sight.

Berserker shook his head. He did not know.

"So, you're just as confused as us here?" Ilya beamed. "Great, that means we'll be able to work this out like a detective story."

"But I still don't understand-"

"Hey, I haven't heard this. Leave the poor guy be." retorted Lancer as he popped another cookie in his mouth.

A clouded look came to Berserker's face as he continued his tale.

"One day, those...things came. They were man-like, yet they weren't men. The tainted essence of the Grail was in them. I fought them off time and time again, but I found my strength being drained. Each time I called upon the power of Zeus, and God-hand, my power diminished little by little."

Ilya gulped. She didn't know the powers of a Noble Phantasm were capable of being weakened. "Do you know what is causing this?"

"I… do not know, but I knew that as the power of God-hand decreased, so did my self-control. I lashed out more frequently, became more aggressive. Instead of being protector, I ended up harming others more then I helped. Finally, I had enough. I exiled myself and looked for wisdom. When the Oracle of Delphi instructed me to seek the future, I did, and thus I came using the gem she gave me." Berserker held out his palm. He was holding a small beryl jewel that glittered as the sun's rays touched it. Taking that to be the end of Berserker's tale, Lancer began to speak.

"Just as your God-hand weakened, so did my weapon. Gae Bolg no longer struck its target. Or when it did, it flew in sporadic directions," Lancer thoughtfully commented as he started on his second pack. "You understand, Gae Bolg's not supposed to miss. Wait, did those things you fight resemble some sort of shadowy-oozy-goozy sort of generic evil henchmen shape?"

Berserker nodded.

"Aha. Thought so! That's kinda what I had to kill. Rather mucky, you know? And they seem to come in all shapes and forms. It's easy to clean up though-at least they don't leave a mess!" Lancer cheerfully commented.

"Why look for us though? The Association surely had much more powerful mages then us. Take Ilya and Rin here, I know they're good, but they're nowhere near true Magus," Shirou shouted. He was getting sick and tired of not understanding anything. Can't life be normal for a change?

Both Lancer and Berserker shrugged.

"Hold on," snapped Rin, who had been quiet up until now. "You mentioned that the creatures you fought reminded you of the Grail? How do you know? How can you be here, on your own accord and will? How can you sustain yourself without any source of mana? Lastly, you guys came after us, out of all people, and yet you don't know what you're facing, the problems that you're trying to solve, or even your reasons for being here!"

Silence filled the chamber. Neither Berserker nor Lancer knew what to do or say. Finally, Rin haughtily broke the silence again.

"Typical. Well, let's try to figure things out one at a time, alright?" She smiled. "Berserker. You tell Taiga-san that you are Chou, a cousin of Shirou's from China, and Lancer…"

"Excuse me, guys. May I have a few moments alone? I need to mull this over.", Shirou inquired politely, rising to his feet. Rin paused in her planning, thought for a few seconds, and smiled again.

"I suppose it is safe enough. Still, with what these guys told us, we better be careful. Take care, and don't be too long, alright?"

Shirou nodded and put on his shoes. As he stepped out, he sighed in relief. Today was too hectic for him to take all at once. He needed to think.


Oh? I thought you wanted action. Thought you were bored. Said the other half of his mind as he paced towards the one location he knew could give him peace.

Not at the cost of more innocent lives. What this looks like is another Grail War..

The World could be at stake, you know? Didn't you want to be a hero? What could be so bad about saving the world?

Shirou didn't know what to think at that point, but he arrived at his destination, a familiar temple on the top of a certain mountain. He stopped. A great many things had happened at this location. He sat down in the grass and looked at the world below him.

Look at it this way. This isn't so bad. You'll be able to save the world, right?

Right...but how many lives will be lost in order to save it? For that matter, do I even know what's going on?

No, but isn't it best to look toward the greater good? You didn't know what was going on when you entered the Grail War either, but look what you did. Can you imagine what would have happened if it fell into the hands of Shinji?

...but isn't it better to try to save everyone, and not just the most you can?

You're hopeless. His inner voice told him. But hey, you know what this means, right? If Lancer and Berserker are back, you know the others will be too..

Shirou had no logic to argue against that, and he smiled. It would be nice to see Archer again, he had many things to ask. He could talk to Rider, Caster, or Assassin, as well.

..and I could be with Saber again. He thought. Six months after the event took place, and I can still remember every little detail about her.Man. This must be what love sickness is.

Once again he found himself day-dreaming. Angrily, he brushed the thought aside. He had more important things to be worried about now.

"Thinking about Saber, are you? How tragic. Too bad you will not be thinking of her for long."

Shirou spun around and narrowly missed being impaled on a spear of some sort. Startled, he jumped to the side and landed in a crouch.

"Your agility and reflexes are impressive, though I doubt it is enough to save you."

Shirou stared at his assailant. Fully nine feet tall, this stranger was clad in bear fur. Several amulets made out of bone dangled on his wide leather belt, and the man wore a strange headdress of wolf pelt that resembled a howling winter wolf. He grinned, and beckoned with his long lance, which was shaped like a black dragon's head. Two dark gemstones gleamed on the tip of the weapon, and the tip of the spear appeared to almost be breathing.

"Come now; pull out whatever weapon you choose. Ulfheoinn will not allow his enemies to fight without arms!"

Ulfheoinn? Just who is this guy? No matter. He seems to mean business. Everything's been going crazy lately. First seeing Rin shocked, then a Berserker that was talking, add Lancer and a crazy half-naked wolf-pelt wearing man who is trying to stab me…

Oi. I think I have had all the excitement for one day. Let's see if I can pull through.

Shirou concentrated and decided to materialize a sword. It was the only weapon he had some proficiency in. He grabbed a loose branch and focused.

Trace on.

Basic Composition…Defined.

The branch glowed, and slowly smoothed out. It became metallic, almost silvery.

Material Composition…Defined.

The branch stopped glowing, but it was no longer a branch.

Atomic mass…Defined.

Shirou looked at the weapon that took shape in his hands. It was two feet long with a thick but straight blade. The sturdy weapon had a distinctive S-shaped hilt, and felt good in his hands. The sword gleamed in the afternoon sun.

"A katzbalger? I thought better from the winner of the previous Grail War!" snarled Ulfheoinn as he charged Shirou, spear in hand. Shirou rolled to the side, and held his blade in a two handed grip.

"Why not a Noble Phantasm? Why not Caliburn or Balmung? Do you mock me?" Ulfheoinn spun his weapon and stabbed the ground. A circle of shockwaves rippled from the point and caused Shirou to momentarily lose his balance. Seeing his opponent stumble, Ulfheoinn dashed and viciously stabbed forward.

"I will give you the grace of a quick kill!"

To his surprise, the boy did quite well for himself. Though he was not exceptionally skilled with the weapon, the large, figure-eight shaped hilt offered additional defensive capabilities, which allowed him to block or dodge most of his attacks. Though his parries were clumsy and his retaliation skills were almost nil, the kid isn't half bad. Too bad he won't stay alive long enough to improve. Ulfheoinn grinned, jabbed, and saw his weapon blocked again.

This looks to be fun after all. The Grail was right in promising that this would be interesting.

A panting Shirou brought his sword up once again. He was thoroughly exhausted. Ulfheoinn's blows were powerful and parrying them hadn't been easy. He wondered why he didn't trace a more powerful weapon, but remembered that he would probably would have run out of mana long before now. He had suffered more than a few nicks and scratches, and one of his legs had been pierced and was now bleeding freely. His katzbalger was in no better condition. It was filled with dents and one part of the guard was wholly shaved off by his opponent's spear.

His adversary on the other end was not harmed at all, nor was that surprising. Ulfheoinn wielded the spear like it was an extension of his body, and the sheer reach of his weapon put Shirou at a severe disadvantage. Without hopes of even getting close, there was no possible method in which Shirou could reach his opponent.

Ulfheoinn thrusted his lance at Shirou, who barely managed to bring his sword up to guard position. The impact stung, and dropped him to his knees. Ulfheoinn's face lit up in a wolfish smile as he drew back for another strike.

Concentrate, Shirou. A voice in his head said. You have to live through this. Remember all your friends that you have to live for. Remember Rin, Sakura, Fuji-nee, and all the others.

Blackness threatened to claim him as Shirou staggered back up to face his opponent. Clashes of steel rang out as his sword whined under the pressure of his opponent's blow.

Concentrate, Shirou. You have a part in saving the world. You have to live through this.

Shirou made a weak slash at Ulfheoinn, who deflected his attack with a simple brandish. Ulfheoinn then drew back, quite flamboyantly, and beckoned him on.

"Well, boy? Tired yet? Give up! Fighting is a man's work!"

Concentrate, Shirou. You have to live through this. She will never approve if you died.

You're right. I have to live through this, if only for her…

"No, not yet." Shirou straightened. He knew he looked pathetic at the moment with blood trickling down his face, but he didn't care.

"I'm nowhere near done!"

He dashed forward and lunged. Surprised, Ulfheoinn swiped at him. The swipe came too late, however, as a thin line of blood appeared on the tall warrior. Shirou landed unsteadily on his feet. He didn't know how many more of those were left in him.

"Heh. So you've managed to nick me…"

Ulfheoinn scowled. The look sent a shiver down Shirou's spine. Whereas before something reasonably noble lurked in those icy eyes, now the orbs are feral, almost predatory.

"You will regret ever having blooded Ulfheoinn, the Wolf of the North!"

Ulfheoinn held out his weapon as it began pulsing with power. The black dragon head glowed with a dull brilliance. Ulfheoinn grinned again and hurled the weapon.

"Do you know what this is, boy? This is Nidhogg, the Black Shaft!"

Shirou's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the strike coming; he raised his katzbalger in defense. All the while, his mind searched frantically for something that could save him.

Nidhogg …is the legendary Dragon gnawing at the roots of Yggdrasill.

"Nidhogg! Break him like you will on Ragnarok!"

As the spear flew at him, the dragon head came to life. Howling, the black dragon rushed at him with the force of the earth behind it.

"Meltdown – Shattering Strike!!"

The katzbalger shattered into a thousand fragments as the spear made contact. Shirou screamed out in anguish as the force knocked him back. He reeled, spat out blood, and collapsed in a heap. Every bone in his body felt broken. He was sure that some of them were. All the same, he couldn't do much now. He could not even get up, much less offer resistance. It hurt just to open his eyes.

The grass rustled as a gentle breeze gathered about him.

"Any last words, boy? I thought to give you a swift death, but that won't happen now! I will enjoy crushing your bones!"

Well, I guess this is the end. I'm sorry, Saber…I guess I'll never see you again.

Closing his eyes, Shirou waited for the darkness to claim him.

Dying… I never thought I would actually die. In a sense, I guess this isn't too bad. There's even a pleasant breeze to send me on my way. Maybe I'll see you on the other end, Saber…


Ulfheoinn grinned. It would be easy to smash this kid's head in now. Too bad he's no longer conscious to feel the pain. He thought as he took a step towards the prone form on the ground.

The wind intensified. The gusts hit him with a chill that he was not used to. From his Scandinavian homeland, taking the cold was like breathing. And yet this was nothing that he had experienced before. Snarling, Ulfheoinn took another step forward. A little air wouldn't stop him.

The gale howled at him, its torrents lashing his body. Ulfheoinn was knocked back. Startled, he tried again, and was met with the same result. Trying with all his might, Ulfheoinn could not approach his fallen prey. The wind was simply too powerful.

Frustrated, he shouted at the wind, "What is this witchcraft?! Show yourself, you sniveling coward!"

"You are the coward," replied the wind. From the tempest emerged the speaker. Despite her lithe figure, she was completely unaffected by the storm.

"You dare strike an opponent while they are down?"

Her tone was melodious and regal, yet her was voice firm. Ulfheoinn had to squint to see this new arrival clearly in the wind. She was garbed simply, wearing a cobalt colored dress and a sterling breastplate. The twin ribbons holding her blonde tresses fluttered wildly as she presented her sword in a knight's salute.

Ulfheoinn stared at the sword. The blazing edge almost blinded him as he forced himself to look at the blade. The sword was also simple in design, though the intricate pattern of the hilt told even him that this was no simple weapon. A cross followed by two triangular patterns followed a shield-shaped emblem. The two-handed weapon rested comfortably in his opponent's gauntleted hands. A hallowed aura radiated from the weapon.

"I ask you once, and only once. Leave this place, and return to the darkness where you came from!"

Ulfheoinn growled, and took a step forward.

He was immediately repelled with a force unlike anything he had ever faced before. The sheer power of the wind tore several deep gashes into his skin. Roaring, he charged again

A clang sang out as Nidhogg flew out of his hand and landed some thirty paces away. Ulfheoinn blinked dumbly, and found himself staring at the tip of a bright sword. Viridian eyes aglow, the lady-warrior stared at him.

"Do you yield?"

Ulfheoinn faltered, hesitantly taking a step back.

"No?"

Ulfheoinn jumped, and stumbled back several more steps.

"Then leave my sight, knave."

Ulfheoinn snatched Nidhogg and scurried into the sunset, quickly dematerializing. Soon, he vanished completely.


Light.

There is light somewhere.
The light hurts my eyes.

Am I dead? Dead people aren't supposed to hurt, right? I must be alive still.

Shirou stirred, and immediately wished he hasn't. He hurt all over, and as he became more attuned to his senses, he smelled blood.

Where am I? What time is it?

That's when what happened during that afternoon all came back to him in a rush. He struggled to get back to his feet. He has to warn everyone! There was a mad, dangerous, Epic Spirit afoot! He didn't know why Ulfheoinn didn't kill him, but he wasn't going to stick around. He has to tell his friends!

It's a minor miracle that I'm still in one piece. My head hurts, and I feel sleepy, but I have to try…

Shirou stood up, took a step, and fell over immediately. His legs refused to obey him.

Argh…Perhaps a nap is good after all…

As he closed his eyes, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He painfully opened them again…

…and saw familiar green eyes filled with concern.

"Saber…?" his voice came out in a croak.

"Hush, be still. The threat is gone."

"Saber… Is it really you?"

Saber gently smiled and nodded.

"I can't… I don't… This feels like a dream. This is a dream, isn't it?" despite all his injuries, Shirou felt glorious. Joy, simple and pure, bubbled within him. If he died right now, he would still be content. He closed his eyes and clasped Saber's hand. This moment was one he would remember for all his life. Maybe beyond.

She came. She really came. Saber's alive.

"HEY! YOU! YEAH, YOU. STOP BEING LOVEY-DOVEY AND DON'T GO DYING ON ME AFTER I SPENT ALL THAT TIME BEING YOUR RUNNER-BOY!" huffed Lancer as he rushed towards Shirou with an armload of medical supplies. Behind him, he could hear Rin's light steps and Berserker's heavy footfalls.

Shirou sighed and relaxed. Everything would be fine now.

A/N: Critique is welcome. Thank you for reading.