"I'll see you tomorrow, Fujimaru-kun," Sajyou Ayaka waved good night to Shirou before crossing the street and entering her family's residence. The crows nestling all around the old house had been restless of late, as if afraid, and tonight was no exception; the little girl could hear them rustling together uneasily in the trees of their wide garden surrounded by tall walls. She tried to ignore the strange sensation of subtle dread while pushing the front door open. "Dad, Oneechan, I'm home…"

"Oh, good evening, Ayaka-chan. Father is in his study and doesn't wish to be disturbed," her dear big sister musically said while arranging the table for both of them, lovingly setting a delicious dinner. "I'm afraid it'll be just the two of us again."

"I see…" Ayaka said in her little docile voice, nodding as her blonde, beautiful sister, nearly ethereal and pale like a fairy of radiant light, took her own seat across the table, always smiling angelically at her. "Thank you, Manaka-Oneechan."

"Now, before we bless this meal," Sajyou Manaka said, clear blue eyes sparkling in happiness, "I want you to understand, Father is not upset at us, Ayaka-chan dearest."

"I know that, Oneechan."

"But you don't know at what he is upset, do you?" Manaka gently asked, and Ayaka had to shake her head silently. Manaka reached over, lovingly caressed her cheek and whispered oh so sweetly, "Father is just disappointed our family missed a chance he had been waiting for his whole life. He worked very hard to achieve a miracle, and he still can't understand how he could have failed. But that's okay. We'll achieve that miracle for him."

Now little Ayaka looked worried. "Oneechan. Have you been skipping your medication again?"

Manaka giggled and lowered the front of her pretty pink dress just a bit, revealing white skin stained by wide, pitch black marks shaped like a sinister set of wings, right above her small, perky breasts. "I think they should have been red, they appeared a bit late, and they should've been on my hand, but it's okay, other than that it's all right. It doesn't matter anyway… I'm going to meet my charming prince, Ayaka-chan. And we're going to live happily ever after!"

Nasu Kinoko and Type-Moon created and own Fate/Stay Night, Fate Prototype, Fate Zero, Fate EXTRA, Fate Extella, Fate Apocrypha, Fate/Strange Fake, Fate Kaleid Liner Prisma Illya, and Fate Grand Order.

All other characters and franchises are the intellectual properties of their respective copyright holders.

Fields of Fate.

Chapter Four: Countdown to Zero.

A very young girl with light brown hair, dressed in the traditional clothes of a kendo trainee, practiced her swings and whacks on a training dummy in her father's backyard, when she heard something that sounded like a very big chicken being strangled coming from above. She looked up, and a huge white blur flew by over her, coming from the nocturnal distance and disappearing back into it just as soon.

"What th-!" this girl gasped, doubting for a moment before running back into the house. "Dad, Grandpa, boys!" she called out to a mature man and an even older one sitting at a table playing shogi, with three men in black suits respectfully standing guard by the door. "You won't believe this! I just saw a, some kinda beast THIS huge flying by!" she widened her arms open, gesturing frantically. "It was, like a winged horse, wow! Giorgio Tsoukalos-weird, guys! I swear it!"

The girl's father, the youngest of the two sitting men, sighed deeply. "And here we go again…"

The old man chuckled. "Let her be! I'd rather have her hyperactive imagination than all the rotten, half baked lies you made up at her age just to justify your sneaking out!"

"I wasn't imagining anything!" the girl roared. "I know what I saw! White wings, THIS wide! It was flying straight to the sea! You believe me, right, boys?" she asked the stoically silent trio, two of whom shuffled awkwardly on their feet oh so briefly.

Fujimura Raiga reached over and fondly patted his granddaughter's head. "Must've been an albatross, Taiga-chan. Sometimes they get lost while traveling all around the world and stray into seaside cities. That's all."

"What kind of albatross has four freaking legs?!" Taiga demanded. "And I could swear there was someone on it, screaming in panic, too! I think it was some chick, but it flew so fast, I—"

"It flew so fast your eyes tricked you," her father tiredly said. "You've been training too hard lately, why don't you give it a rest and head to bed already?"

Old Raiga nodded sagely, all the while cursing inwardly. He'd heard earlier that day Emiya Kiritsugu was back in the city, and weird crap like this always happened whenever he wandered in. Raiga only could hope, whatever it was about this time, it wouldn't be too destructive…

Meanwhile, the white flying figure rocketing across the night sky stuck to mostly solitary streets and avenues, always flying high enough as to avoid photographic detection. Rider moved expertly, finely honed instincts guiding her as she mostly ignored the desperate cries of the young man who dearly clung for life to her back.

"Aaaiiieeee!" Waver shrieked once more. "Y-You'll lose the War if I, if I die, you know! N-No offense, but not many would make a contract with a horse…! W-Why won't you just slow down alreadyyyyy!"

"I'm sorry, Master," she said, slowing down at last upon arriving to the seashore district, "but lives might be in the balance. Speed was of the essence."

"Of course lives were in the b-buh-balance! Starting with mine!" Waver babbled as Rider landed safely on a communications tower overlooking the whole area. "Wh-Where are those Servants anyway? I don't see them! M-Maybe they already left, or they killed each other, that'd be good, I—"

"There they are," Rider said, pointing her horn a couple of blocks down and away, where a musclebound gray giant wearing nothing but purple pants had just crashed down before two female Servants, growling aggressively at them.

"… I hate my life," Waver decided, then pulled out a set of magical glasses from his breast pocket, analyzing the enemies with more detail. Being raised by magi among other magi, he didn't recognize the towering man the way Maiya had, although he still looked somehow familiar; but he still could deduce a few facts from his appearance alone. "Berserker! That's got to be Berserker!"

"Are you sure?" Rider asked. "It's always awful judging others just because of their appearances. Who knows, he might be a Caster who works out a lot, after all, a healthy mind belongs into a healthy body…"

Then the male Servant roared bestially and charged at the other two like an out of control train, sending them flying several feet back instantly, in a blink of an eye.

"—nah, it's Berserker," Waver clucked his tongue with a twist of his eyebrows. "I'm fairly sure I'm not profiling him for the simple sake of it…"

Sajyou Residence:

"This.. this is…" Ayaka gasped as Manaka led her into the family's attic. Ayaka had been there before, but not often; Father would perform rituals there, but while he'd often say someday Ayaka would fully devote herself to the family's craft, so far he only actively trained Manaka, his firstborn. The prodigy.

"Yes! I have been working on it, isn't it wonderful?" Manaka smiled, spinning like a ballerina around the wide domed room, painted in complex patterns all over, walls and ceilings and floor alike, with the blood of twelve beheaded white pigeons, their bodies arrayed in a circle Manaka used now to pirouette over, finally stopping at its middle with a grand gesture. "With this, I shall call forth the prince."

Ayaka shuddered. "Does… Does Father know about this?"

"Of course not, he's not been here since he lost his faith, one week ago," Manaka hummed, crouching down to touch one of the lines of blood on the floor with a delicate fingertip. "Excellent, it's dry now. I can begin."

Ayaka felt her fear increasing greatly. "Your… Your medicine…"

"I've been flushing it down the toilet. I don't need it!" her sister favored her with a charming smile. "Calm down, Ayaka-chan. I'm not going to hurt you. That would disrupt the balance. After all, how would a little girl go along with twelve pigeons? A successful summon demands for a harmonic catalyst…"

Ayaka, while still about to break into sobbing, nodded as best as she could. "Thanks… Thank you, Oneechan… but… shouldn't the blood, shouldn't it be fresh? Father said—"

"Father failed, I will succeed," Manaka said, standing up with a strange look in her eyes. "The prince can't be a Saber, an Archer, a Lancer, a Rider, a Caster, or even a Berserker or Assassin anymore. It's a shame, I really really wanted a Saber, but Father wasted too long with methods that didn't work. That's life!" she shrugged with the resigned smile of a good sport. "That's fine though, I just need to summon him in another Class. Maybe it's better that way. We'll play with our own set of rules."

Ayaka trembled, hoping Manaka wouldn't make the mental connection maybe 'Not following the old rules anymore' could also mean 'Maybe I could mix Imouto's blood with the pigeons' after all!' So she restrained herself from pointing out there were supposed to be only seven Classes and that even she knew that much. But apparently that wasn't crossing her sister's mind as she kicked her bare feet around and began strutting rhythmically around the circle, chanting to the tune of a melody that only existed in her own head.

"O Guardian of Equilibrium! He who holds the balances. He who tips the scales of Justice. With all the evils of Hades, with all the virtues of Elysium, I cover myself, and call forth the one who died, not for our sins, but to become our sins!"

Ayaka wasn't sure that would work, even for someone as talented as Manaka. She remembered their father chanting something vaguely familiar after locking himself up in that very same attic over several straight days weeks ago, but that didn't follow the same phrasing, and obviously, from his later frustration, it hadn't worked then either anyway. Then again, maybe Manaka had somehow hit the correct spell, although right now it sounded like she was making it up on the fly.

Manaka swung her hips in place playfully. "Break the chains foolishly binding you to the abyss! Rise, and usher on a new era where we will write our own laws! We shall summon the dead! We shall shatter the barriers! We shall fight the elements! He who should not be there, he who must appear to rattle the world! In your name and mine, in the name of Vengeance!"

And then there was a huge explosion of light that toppled little Ayaka down on her butt, making her cry. She backed away against the wall, shakily hugging her legs against herself. Manaka laughed in triumph, a terrible crystal clear laugh that Ayaka had never heard before, standing tall and proud, while her prince rose from the floor to face her, looking at her with passive, beautiful golden eyes on a boyishly handsome pale face.

He was very short, even shorter than Manaka. A child, but there was nothing childish or innocent about his curt, dry expression. He wore a plain, militaristic, buttoned up gray uniform, with shiny golden cuffs on his long sleeves, and his hair was short and white.

"I am Servant Avenger," he told Manaka, his voice just as calm and lifeless as his face. "Would you happen to be my Master?"

By a twist of Fate, Manaka had just found her Prince.

The Boulevard:

Saber rolled around with the impact, never falling on her back, but spinning around as to fall on her feet, boots screeching to a halt on the pavement. She cracked a satisfied smile as she ran a hand over her mouth, wiping out a single thin trail of red while the other hand spun her Invisible Air in place, calculating the next strike.

Lancer, as per the custom of her Class, was not as fortunate, dropping like a rock for a moment, but she sprang back to her feet almost as soon. The female Servants exchanged a quick glance, as if silently agreeing to a short truce against the disproportionate beast standing before them, crunching his hands together.

"Berserker," Saber seethed the word, trying to gauge how much of a degree of actual reasoning he still held onto. The answer was a short grunt filled with contempt.

"That'd be me, yeah. Any last words? Any Noble Phantasms you'd like to waste?"

Saber and Lancer considered that in a grim silence. On one hand, Berserkers were, as a general rule, nearly impossible to defeat through conventional means. That was the whole point of applying Mad Enhancement, otherwise a major disadvantage, upon them. On the other, once a Noble Phantasm is activated, especially before any other Servants or familiars that might be spying on the procedures, the Servant loses the surprise element of their greatest trump card, an extra edge that never can be regained. Lancer seemed especially reluctant, almost afraid, to invoke hers.

"Master?" she softly asked, just enough as to qualify as out aloud.

Let Einzbern's Servant use hers first, Kayneth's voice answered in her mind. It's still too early into the War. For all we know this could be a setup for us to show our hand; you are not to be the first to reveal yourself, Lancer!

She nodded calmly, then raised the staff and waved it, trying another variety of attack instead. "Glaive Surprise!" she shouted, and a large pulse of pristine white was projected forward, hitting the giant squarely on his wide bare chest, pushing him several feet back but never dropping him on his back. He roared in anger more than pain, and when the light receded, his chest was bleeding copiously; but just as quickly, the wounds were closing themselves, to Saber and Lancer's awestruck eyes and Irisviel's muted gasp of shock.

"Is that all? Good," he snarled, then swinging his arms before himself, with an incredible speed for someone that big. Saber and Lancer ducked under the swing, aided by their small sizes, and each seized one side of him, thrusting their respective weapons into a set of ribs. Saber's invisible blade sank in, drawing out a thick splurt of blood, but Lancer's only made a superficial cut, as she was kicked in the chest and shoved back roughly, forcing her to acrobatically rotate to a stop, panting while struggling to remain on her feet, clutching her chest.

"RRRRRRR!" Berserker growled while Saber twisted Invisible Air into the wound, deepening and widening it, causing him further pain that only maddened him even moreso. He tugged back, as Saber's hands seemed to slip and lose their grasp on the unseen weapon. Immediately after, however, she gestured with her right hand, which was thrust forward, and if the small smile she made after was any indication, she had just regained possession of the sword. "You… HURT ME…!"

Drooling savagely, he advanced like a crazed ape, smashing his feet and fists alike against the pavement and sending large chunks of it flying around in all directions. "Smash you! Crush you! LEAVE YOU FLAT! I'm SICK OF YOU!"

Lancer maneuvered aside, out of the immediate range of his rampage, while Saber, who had been closer to him, took on the full brunt of it. The swordswoman swung her blade before herself repeatedly, parrying and blocking the impact of his blows and sending rippling shockwaves through the air, each collision resulting in a cracking explosion like that of a small bomb.

After several of these accelerated exchanges, which Iri's eyes barely could follow on, it seemed Berserker was gaining the figurative and literal upper hand, his fists coming closer and closer to Saber's skull each time, the blonde being pushed back closer to Irisviel and Shielder. And so, just as the behemoth pulled an arm back and readied his strongest blow yet, something came in as a blur between him and Saber. When the fist descended again, it clashed against an even bigger shield, the echo of it sounding all across the area in a succession of hollow, haunting echoes.

Berserker raised an eyebrow at the shield bearer who had managed, somehow, to block one of his demented attacks. "Oh?"

"I'm Shielder, Servant of Absolute Defense," the new warrior opposing him said clear and honestly. "And as long as I can stand, my Lord will not fall to anyone!"

"I never wanted to be a damn dogcatcher…" Matou Byakuya muttered bitterly, pushing another large crate full with barking or whining, all anxious dogs into Matou Manor. Kariya's older brother, he was even less apt at magic than he was, not that Byakuya cared. He hated all of that overcomplicated magical nonsense, and only his apathy and incompetence at succeeding on his own had prevented him from fleeing Zouken's shadow like Kariya had done until the old patriarch had claimed Sakura for the family.

He wheeled the latest crate into the basement, where that creepy weird witch had set shop up with his uncle. As usual, he avoided eye contact with the little girl half submerged into worms, partially out of pity but mostly out of disgust. "Are we done for tonight?" he asked, rolling the sleeves of his black shirt up to reveal several scratches and bite marks all over his arms. "I'm going to need vaccination, you know! Why don't you just use magic to lure all these critters here anyway?!"

"Hold your tongue, damned fool!" Zouken hissed at him. "Caster needs to save her prana for more important tasks. Be happy you get to be useful for once in your life!"

"Leave them over there, thank you very much, Errand Boy," Caster coldly said, not deigning Byakuya with a look as she worked on a prior batch of stray cats and dogs delivered to her. She had installed some sort of primitive laboratory of horrors, full of bubbling black cauldrons and sharp metallic tools, where she ran several blasphemous experiments at once. Caster currently stood by a row of unfortunate animals that were slow and painfully mutating to stand on both hind legs, the other two clawing and slashing in a torturous process of change into arms. "Human resources would yield better results, but these goons will suffice for the time being."

Byakuya nodded, rubbing himself on an arm. "Then, will I be needed for something else tonight, or—"

"Three more rounds," Caster commanded. "The night is still young, boy. Are you tired already?"

"Listen, ma'am, this isn't an easy job," Byakuya groaned. "The cops make it difficult, what if one should catch me? What if one of them caught me and asked what am I doing with this van full of strays in the dead of the night? It's not like I can hypnotize people!"

"Then bring that policeman here and I will be glad to give him his answers… and Caster will have the captain of her troops," Zouken sneered. "Unless you wish to hold that honor yourself, lad."

Byakuya backed away instantly, panicking. Another glance at the caged animals that were being turned into 'goons' and those already changed, sitting at the corners scratching fleas off themselves with toothy grins and brutal guffaws, was terrifying enough; the idea of being turned himself into one of those imps and gnomes scared him out of his mind. "I, I will see what can I do!"

Caster nodded. "I'm so glad to hear that. So, Master, about your intelligence on further current developments…"

"My familiars have detected Kariya's Servant engaging in combat with two Servants at once, near the waterfront," the head of the house said while Byakuya hastily excused himself out. "The Saber and the Lancer. Against my expectations, Berserker appears to have the advantage. It would seem his initial appearances were deceiving indeed…" he smiled wickedly.

"Saber," Caster pondered, stopping briefly in her dark arts. With their Magic Resistance, their privileged position at the top of the Servant chain, and their legends' proclivity to link them to the slaying of sorcerers, Sabers were the primary source of concern for most Casters upon revival. "Let your familiars show Diablo the way, Master. I wish to have first hand information on that battle, if you don't mind."

"Gladly," Zouken agreed, gesturing and making several buzzing insects swarm around Caster's winged pet, leading it out of the basement. It already felt like the old times again. Setting out for the Root with a Servant to match his own heart; but this time around, the Tohsaka representative was nothing but a conceited fool, and Acht was senile and had sent a naïve child in his stead. Zouken was sure all outsiders would be a non factor, dolts out of their depth in the power struggle between the three great families. And best of all, this time that accursed Darnic had missed the deadline, unable to meddle either. Surely, the Grail was his for the taking this time, at last, after so long…

The Boulevard:

Berserker stared down at this small girl who had just intercepted his mighty fist. "Shielder? That's a new one," he growled. "Debut and farewell, then!" With that, he brought both fists down on this time, hammering mercilessly on the shield that the comparatively tiny Servant held over her head, stubbornly enduring the thundering and relentless assault.

With matching battle cries of renewed anger, Saber and Lancer struck at him from the sides again, and this time both drew blood, although once again Berserker swatted them aside. "So this is how it's gonna be, huh?! Three on one?! Fine with me! I'm used to those odds and worse! Bring on all Servants, for all I care…!"

High above, Rider flinched at this latest challenging roar. "This is very bad!"

"Wh-What are you saying? It's great!" Waver gulped. "If he takes three Servants out all at once, that's much less left for us to do later—Oh! You mean… it's bad he's so powerful, right? Do you… Don't you think you can take him on?"

"It's not that," Rider said. "All this brutality, this senseless massacre… This shouldn't go this way. Hold on firmly, Master," she then swooped down with Waver still on her back, much to his displeasure and horror.

"Wha-What are you doooooooiiiing?! Oh, no, Rider, don't do this, what are you thinkiiiiiiiing….!"

Berserker kept on pummeling with his fists in all directions, spitting and howling like a possessed beast, with Lancer, Saber and Shielder running in apparently wild and erratic circles meant to confuse all around him, attacking him from all directions, further destroying more of the boulevard with each blast of eldritch magical energy, burst of compressed wind, or whack of table-shield.

"Oh my…" a fascinated Irisviel said from the sidelines. "So this is what being a superhero is about… Massive destruction of public property!"

It was actually exciting for someone who only had seen private property while growing up and didn't quite understand the value of communitarian belongings just yet.

"You shouldn't have interfered!" Saber was telling Shielder while dodging the latest stomp of a massive foot. "Now you have left your post open!"

"I was told to assist you in the event a second enemy appeared!" Shielder reminded her, deflecting a lamppost Berserker had just singlehandedly ripped off and tossed at them. "But even if I hadn't, you know I'll always protect your back as long as there's breath in this body of mine!"

"That won't be much longer!" Berserker promised,. Lunging at her before being blasted back by a ray from above, hitting him directly in the face. The gray goliath rolled across the broken sidewalk while a majestic figure floated down from the sky, on gigantically wide white wings spread open, with a much less imposing and much smaller figure desperately clinging to its back in a rather less dignified manner.

Shielder blinked. "This, this is…?"

"Helios?!" Lancer gasped, mistaking the newcomer for a memory of her own past. Just what she needed right now, that creepy stalker who had tried to woo Chibi-Usa-chan away…

"It is…" Saber said, mouth wide open and eyes suddenly sparkling, before, much to Iri's surprise, adding the very same thing the homunculus herself was thinking "… beautiful!"

Was Saber blushing now? No, Irisviel told herself, surely that couldn't be it, she had to be imagining things…

Berserker got back to his feet, wiping blood off his nose. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

The four legged creature landed gently before them, speaking in a clear, firm and regal tone. "Good evening, all of you. I am Servant Rider, and this is my Master. Honored to meet you, brave warriors from this world's past. I hope you will listen to what I have to say before looking at us as enemies, for there are matters in the balance that demand us to act as the heroes we are, not as the killers we are expected to be…"

From his vantage point, Kiritsugu sighed in exasperation. "God help me, I can't help but agree with the gorilla. What the flaming hell…?"

Berserker himself was hardly amused either. "I can't believe this! So who's next, Howard the Duck?!"

Lancer, at the very least, seemed relieved now she got a better look at Rider. Oh, good, it isn't that freaky Casanova Pegasus after all…!

Once upon a time, there had been a perfect, peaceful land where a superior race lived secluded from the rest of a chaotic universe. These beings had achieved a status of enlightenment where all countries in their planet had erased the concept of borders and embraced each other as a whole. All men and women viewed each other as beloved brothers and sisters and lived accordingly, working together to eradicate concepts as pollution, famine or war. They created an utopia of clean streets, pure air, and harmony with nature. It was a truly happy and self realized world.

Then one day, a baby boy was born.

The child was, physically, no different from any other in that paradise, perhaps just slightly bigger than the average, but not really bigger than some others, either. But while all prior newborns of his species had, during recorded history, been well behaved and quiet, this one ripped and tore his way out of the womb, savagely cutting his own mother from the inside in the delivery room. Then, just as soon as he emerged with a feisty burp, he jumped for the throat of the doctor and claimed his second ever victim. This respected physician was fortunate, since for him, it was over quickly. The grinning little white creature took his time with the confused nurses.

That first outburst sated, the child's father somewhat managed to rein him back for the next few years. The utopia had abandoned and forgotten the notions of punishment and imprisonment eras ago, and so the wild child was allowed to walk among the perfected society, more or less quietly at first, the occasional maimed nanny or podiatrist aside. But then a momentous time came, and the child entered school.

Tribb was the first one to recognize him for what he truly was, to accuse him on it, to warn others, just to be ignored by her peers and superiors. This respected educator was the child's first and longest lasting tutor, and her keen mind recognized the signs of something different in him. In turn, he seemed to spur on the worst of other children, who abandoned their own steadfast principles of civility to gang up and bully on him. This proved being a grave mistake, for not only this little reprobate was even meaner, but also stronger, faster and smarter, and soon he was the only one to show up for Miss Tribb's morning lesson, smiling and bathed on blood.

Tribb broke the taboo and left the planet in terror, foreseeing the tragedy to come. This spared her from the genocide, even though years later her former student would find and frag her regardless, truly becoming the last of his species. But this was still far ahead into the future. For now, the child was growing up into teenagehood, letting his hair grow as wild as his rebellious strike, stumbling from one academy to the next, showing a blatant lack of interest on the conventional education but forging his own brand of self-formation. He somehow found a way to gather communication signals from other planets, mostly to listen to disruptive, obscene and brutal lyrics of alleged music he would call 'heavy metal'. He learned the ways of the most feared and cruel empires of the galaxy, the Khunds, the Dominators, the hordes of Apokolips, from their spacefaring transmissions. He called them 'kewl, man!'

He also began dabbling into chemistry and mechanics.

And one day, without any warning, he unleashed the lethal airborne black plague on a planet that had not known of serious illness through millennia. He sat back, listening to his rock 'n roll, as he watched his compatriots roll over and die in long drawn agony, their own healing factors overcome by a disease he had just injected himself with the only batch of cure ever. He chuckled, then laughed, for days as the grotesque show of neighbors and strangers alike turning around from inside, vomiting their entrails all over the streets, until the once pristine Eden was quiet once again, this time with the calm of the dead spreading everywhere.

Then the young man finished his beer, tossed the can back over his shoulder, belched, and growled a pleased, "Well… time ta hit th' road, then! 'Twas fun, folks!" He jumped into a vehicle of his own design that Kirei already knew well, turned it on, and fearlessly blasted out into space with a lengthy perverse laugh…

"- Kirei! Kirei, please, wake up!" his father was begging him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Good Lord, boy, I was worried! You weren't waking up no matter what!"

"I… I wasn't?" Kirei blinked, sitting up straighter on his church office chair, rubbing his sweaty forehead. That dream… that powerful feeling of raw evil and carnage only for their own sake… "Sorry, I believe I dozed off, that's all… What is it, father? What is the urgency?"

Kotomine Risei sighed. "It's Tokiomi. He has just called. He wants, no, demands to know where Assassin is right now…"

The Boulevard:

Saber kept on staring at Rider in mild fascination for a few seconds before forcing herself to blink back into her usual business-like attitude. Invisible sword steadily in hand, she told the quadruped Servant, "Now, be honest, Rider, is that is who you really are! What is the true meaning of this interruption? What is the point of disrupting a proper joust between champions?"

Shielder blinked. "Are you some sort of thrillseeker looking to fight us all at once?"

"I stand by what I have just said," Rider coolly said. "Is this violence really necessary? Must we, as Heroic Spirits, descend into this savagery without discussing matters first?"

"What are you saying, Rider?!" Waver shrieked from her back. "This is a Grail War! War! A-As in violence, fights! Th-That is what you are here for in the f-first place!"

Berserker grunted. "The lady's right, Gladys. Anyway, if you're telling that to a Berserker, you're neighin' up the wrong tree!"

"I'm a man!" Waver protested.

"Sure, and so is she!" Berserker huffed Saber's way.

"I am where it matters the most!" Saber proclaimed.

"Just because we are supposed to do something, that's no reason to do it without questioning it at all, especially if it is a morally dubious course of action," Rider argued, undeterred. "If you ascended to the Throne of Heroes, you must be individuals who did far more than just following orders mindlessly! Ask yourselves if whatever you wish may be, it is worth wasting your gifts on destroying each other, when we could be joining forces for this world's good!"

"Great, Pegasus turned out an idealist," Kiritsugu mumbled.

Meanwhile, Berserker ran a a hand down his face. "I'm not listening to this horsecrap from a literal horse! You finished, Wings?" He have a strong stomp ahead, towards her. "'Cause ready or not, now I'm going to SMASH you!"

Rider did not even blink at the threat, only squinting with a disapproving scowl; but Waver shrieked and pulled back, until a cold, incorporeal laugh came from the shadows, making everyone pause again. "So, Waver Velvet!" it said. "I must admit being surprised you were stupid and brave enough as to actually come here, with a beast for a Servant, no less! Is this the best you could obtain from your shameless plunder?!"

"L-Lord El Melloi!" Waver's teeth chattered.

"Archibald!" Kiritsugu hissed. Had he underestimated him? Surely he had some sort of new, unknown cloaking now, shielding him from detection…?

"I see my lessons, for once, fell short!" the disembodied voice taunted. "What you still lack is experience to make you see the kind of born underachiever you are. Yes, you will have the honor of being taught from me, firsthand, on the way magi murder each other! You will experience that agony in every fine detail!"

Rider slammed a hoof down. "Enough! This young man is under my protection! Threats to his wellbeing will not be tolerated! You, if you would have a problem with that, also have the courage and dignity of stepping out of hiding to tell us in our faces! Otherwise, we have no time to heed the words of a coward!"

"R-R-Rider!" Waver stammered. "D-Don't provoke him, he's the Master of Berserker after all…!"

"Uh… no," Berserker bluntly said. "First time I hear this idiot's voice."

"…" Waver said. Then he looked at the other Servants, one by one, perplexed. "Whuh…? Then… Then who…?"

Lancer raised a hand very blandly.

Waver blinked many times in quick succession, then waved a fist at the darkness. "Wha, wha, what the hell! You have the freaking guts to mock me on summoning a Pegasus after you summon a kid?! Wh-Where do you get your catalysts, boutiques for little girls?!"

The unseen master was briefly heard uneasily shuffling around wherever he was. "… that doesn't have anything to do with what we were just discussing!"

"… a kid…" Lancer quietly said, a small vein bulging fleetingly on her forehead.

"That wasn't very friendly, Waver," Rider sighed. "And from what I gather, you stole that man's catalyst? It's no worse than what you did to the chickens, but stealing is not nice…"

Berserker raised an eyebrow. "You did what to chickens, now?"

"I, I, I just killed them for a ritual sacrifice!" Waver said. "Th-That was all! S-Sheesh, who has ever heard of a Berserker who cracks wise at people?"

Then another, even more callous and pompous loud laughter broke the night.

"Bwa ha ha ha! Inferior excuses for Servants, you all! Is this the rabble opposing me in this so-called war?! What a waste of my time!"

And then everyone looked up, and they first saw the glorious golden figure standing high above them, on a nearby two story jewelry store's roof, his silhouette stark against the silver disc of the moon, arms folded and a wide cruel smirk on his face. The Archer.

Elsewhere in Fuyuki, along the south borders of the city, as close to the forest of the mountains and away from the sea as possible, there were several small castles set by European magi centuries to decades ago, in a series of more or less successful attempts to keep surveillance on the leylines of an area otherwise deemed backwater and irrelevant. This relative lack of interest had caused most of those castles to be abandoned for a long time now, like the Einzberns', leaving the Tohsakas in undisputed control of the city's magicraft after the slow degradation of the Makiris.

There was activity that night in one of those decrepit castles, however. Its owner had last been in the country sixty years ago, but he barely looked past his early thirties, standing tall, lean and vital, with a full head of healthy blackish blue hair on top of handsome, not too rugged or delicate features. His clothing style, however, at least at the time being, was definitely old fashioned, even militaristic, with a classic martial uniform of pure white jacket and large, shiny golden buttons more fitting a war hero than anyone else. This man crouched by the circle he was drawing on the stone floor of a secret chamber, using the blood of freshly sacrificed deer.

"It will better work, Professor," he warned, standing back from his work. "Waiting for your delivery, I missed on all seven Classes, and I'm still not sure anything else can be summoned by now."

"You still keep the Command Seals, don't you?" asked the only other person in the dark room only lit by a few candles, a man with thick, bushy sideburns who pointed at the back of the aristocrat's right hand. "Rest at ease, our organization has made sure personally. Extra Classes can now be summoned without the same disastrous results the Einzberns got then. They just happened to select the wrong Servant."

"I sure hope so, for both our sakes," frowned the well dressed man, rubbing his seals uneasily. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it was, in more than one sense. He had been so close, that time. If not for Makiri's incompetent meddling, access to the Root would have been his, but now, Makiri had grown as senile as Acht if not moreso, and the current head of the Tohsakas was a far cry from his ancestors, not in talent, but in acumen. If there ever was a time when an outsider like him could pounce on a chance left by a power vacuum, this was it. He took in a deep breath. "Let get us started."

As he stood in place and began chanting slowly, the man waiting behind him tensed, a beep coming from one of many pockets in his thick long coat. Discreetly, he pulled away from the distracted magus with his back turned on him, stepping into the next room and pulling his cellphone out. Much like the man calling him over, he did not share the usual magus' despise for modern technology. "You chose a bad moment," he whispered to his caller.

The male voice of his true partner in this enterprise did not sound worried. "I had to call. We just got intelligence there's been another spike in leyline activity elsewhere in the city, meaning someone has summoned another Servant. At the same time at least four others are engaging in an all out melee by the shore. Aren't you and Prestone done yet?"

The tall man with the top hat glimpsed again into the next chamber, where several beams of light were erupting from the floor. It was… black light, however, but given the nature of the summoner and his choice of catalyst that hardly was a surprise. "I believe he's succeeding. Listen, I—"

"Then everything's fine. I'll contact you again tomorrow."

Just like that, the call was cut short, and the man of the top hat heaved a sigh. It couldn't be helped, he guessed. Men of true genius like that person always were eccentrics at best and deranged threats to everybody at worst. And speaking of that…

The Professor walked back into the summon chamber as Darnic Prestone laughed, arms spread in victory. "We have done it, Professor Lainur! Behold, the crystallization of the miracle!"

Lev Lainur smiled benevolently. "I told you so, Lord Prestone. And I couldn't be any happier."

A huge flock of black bats flew up from the summoning circle, gathering around the voluptuous, naked female form stepping out of the black light. They molded around her body, tightening around her flesh, turning into a skintight dark suit that accented her long, strong legs wrapped in leggings ornate with bat silhouette motifs, and her abundant cleavage. Sensually, she licked all over her full ruby lips. She tossed around her long, light green hair and struck a confident pose. Two large black bat wings sprouted from her back, a much smaller pair resting on her head, one at each side of it. When she spoke, it was with a heavy foreign accent, provocative and alluring, even though both men standing before her were long dead inside and could not care less about mere concerns of lust. Even if they recognized her forceful appeal for the valuable weapon it was.

"Good evening, boyas…" she purred, large lazy eyes half closed and shining mischievously. " I am Servant Temptress, owner of men's hearts; now, which one of you would be my fortunate Master…?"

Back to the boulevard:

"What do I see below me?" the golden Servant asked, spreading his wide arms open. "Rats fighting each other, vermin flashing their tiny teeth! I expected for a true gathering of the greatest heroes, and what do I find? Children, a ridiculous horse, and a nude primate! What a laugh! Is there nobody worthy in this contest? Have I wasted my time coming here?"

"Don't look now, but Mr. Congeniality has just arrived," Lancer deadpanned, in a tone surprisingly sarcastic from such a small and cold girl. In all truth, she had experience dealing with this type of personalities before, they were the most frequent bombastic kind of adversary she and her comrades would face back in life, but she knew the unspoken rules when dealing with such foes. Just like they respected the transformation sequences, it was fair play to respect their cornball speeches.

Berserker, far less respectful of ceremony, stared up, slamming a foot downwards defiantly. "Well, but if it's the party's loudmouth, here at last! Why don't you come down here and tell me that on my face, Dandy Boy?"

"You wish I would stoop myself to touch your filthy bodies," the blond smiled evilly, gesturing as a large hole opened above him, tons of sharp weapons, mostly swords and spears, flowing out of it to hover threateningly over the other Servants. "When one kills flies, one swats them, not with one's hands, but through more proper means!"

And then the weapons rained down, in a veritable storm of projectiles pulverizing everything under the radiant Archer. Had Shielder not raised her barrier before herself, Saber and Irisviel, they would have been tagged at least twice each; something not necessarily lethal for the armored warriors, but certainly so for the all too vulnerable homunculus. Rider flew back with his screaming Master on her, surprisingly fast, moving out of the way right in time. Lancer set her own forcefield with her staff, managing to protect herself remarkably well. Berserker, however…

Berserker had only stood his ground, roaring as prana-loaded, sizzling blades bombarded him, a target all too large. He was pierced time after time while Gilgamesh allowed himself an elegant smile, his arsenal cutting and stabbing relentlessly. But then something happened that made Archer grimace instead, as Berserker, horribly sliced and slashed as he was, simply began laughing, a brutish, booming horrible laughter even as Noble Phantasms from all of history kept on striking him. Gilgamesh was reminded of his earlier fight with Assassin, but surely, unlike him, this beast could not survive—

"You're PUNY!" Berserker bellowed, raising his arms and slamming his gigantic hands together, with a single clap that was an explosion and a thunder at once. The female Servants, Irisviel and Waver were all tossed back further away from Berserker and Archer, while the unthinkable force of the clap was shot upwards towards Archer, sending his own cutting treasures that had been on their way down flying back to him instead.

"Guh…!" Archer gurgled, trying to cover his face with his arms, but too late; while all of the weapons colliding against his body simply bounced harmlessly off his armor, a few of those flying higher slashed and cut at his perfect face, and a second later, when he stopped the Gate of Babylon, he took a shaking hand to his features, only to find it covered in blood. "Why you, miserable cur…!"

Berserker grinned wickedly, pulling a large dagger out of his own mangled face, even as his body began quickly healing back. "What a cryin' shame," he snarked. "Did I smash your ladykiller looks? My bad! Maybe you can put on a metal mask, it worked for another pompous blowhard I knew!"

Kariya's voice in his head was jubilant. That was wonderful, Berserker! That's it! Kill Tohsaka's Servant! Pulverize him! Destroy him right now!

"You will pay, dastardly animal, villainous scum!" Archer swore in a paroxysm of rage. "To turn your Lord's fabled vault against him! To shatter his perfection, at the hands of one as vile as yourself! To-!"

"Aw, is it ruined forever already?" taunted another odious voice from behind him, startling and disgusting Gilgamesh. "Then ya won't mind if I do this, righto?!"

And a second later, a sizzling cigar was pressed deep into his damaged face by a dirty hand in a fingerless black leather glove. Gilgamesh screamed in pain, and, a moment later, as Shielder peeked up from behind Lord Camelot, she saw Archer punching Assassin out of his flying motorcycle, sending the strange white skinned Servant flying down like a rocket, until he crashed at the other end of the boulevard, opening a titanic burning crater.

"Well, wua it ruined or not, then?!" protested a furious voice from the bottom of the crater. "Make yer damn mind already! So what if yer ugly now, I swear I'll keep hatin' ya the same anyway!"

Rider sighed. "I truly miss Discord now."

"W-Who?" Waver babbled.

"Report, please," Kirei asked as he rushed into Tokiomi's choice for a control room of sorts, one of the largest halls in his mansion. Behind the young priest, Risei struggled to keep up with the pace of his son. The elder Tohsaka was fuming angrily, arms crossed behind his back, as Rin, still in pajamas and rubbing her sleepy eyes, sat at a corner, hugging her Neco Arc plushie. This made Kirei instantly realize the direness of the situation. For Tokiomi to bring his daughter, Archer's Master, there, he obviously foresaw a need for a Command Seal on the troublesome King of Uruk.

"Archer and Assassin have just both joined the melee," Tokiomi humorlessly said. "But I'm sure you already knew about Assassin's presence there, at least."

"Sorry, sir, I'm afraid I… I fell asleep for some reason…" Kirei apologized. "Must be the exhaustion from the preparations… Assassin consumes a lot of mana, as well."

"So does Archer, and I'm feeling just fine," Rin observed. Sometimes Kirei felt that child simply hated him for some reason he couldn't fathom and knew exactly what to say to make him look worse at any given time; not that he really cared one way or another.

"This threatens to expose our alliance," Tokiomi grumbled, "unless we use this chance to vanquish all enemies present at once. Lancer, Saber, Berserker, Rider and someone called a 'Shielder' are all there. If we dispose of them right now, that will leave Caster as the sole obstacle. Whoever they are, they should be no match for the combined power of Archer and Assassin."

"Well, yes, about that…" Risei coughed. "I received news on our way here. It seems two more Servants have just been summoned. We got calls from the Sajyou house and from Darnic Prestone registering Servants of their own."

"Seriously?!" Rin asked, vivaciously curious.

Tokiomi's eyebrows were raised almost impossibly. "What are you saying?! I know the Sajyous, they are nothing but local underachievers… and Prestone? Is that ghoul still alive?"

Risei nodded. "Furthermore, the Sajyou representative was quite proud of declaring her Servant to be… Avenger."

"I see," Tokiomi hummed. "Well, if it's as pathetic as the Avenger of the Einzberns in the Third War, this changes nothing. A miserable Servant for a miserable house." He clutched his gem-topped cane and smiled almost demonically, boiling with determination. "Our Servants' hubris will play in our favor. They will not allow their opponents leave that battlefield alive!"

Assassin climbed out of the crater, then shot a stare at the indignant Archer. "Yo, Gillian! Just gotta word from Altar Boy, an' I gotta admit he's gotta good point! I know ya wanna frag me… again… an' I sure as nuts wanna frag ya, but what if we waste these losers first?! C'mon, it won't take more t'n a few minnits!"

Archer sneered proudly. "Buffoon, I don't have to follow instructions from you or anyone! You were supposed to be—"

"Dead?" Assassin chuckled grisly, playing with the huge hook now in his hand, eyeing the other Servants sadistically. "Whatsa matter, Dollface, all bark an' no bite? If we burst these bozos right here 'n now, we only gotta frag Caster next, and it's a Caster, feetal's gizz! A milk run!"

Waver tightened his grip on Rider even further, gulping loudly.

Archer looked at everyone with icy contempt. "They must die since their mere existence offends me, true, but I refuse to mingle with the rabble on their own level…"

"What, afraid of comin' down from your perch to start boasting on my face, Chuckles?" Berserker grunted. "Not like tossing your junk at me from above worked at all, right?!"

Archer seethed venomously at the almost fully recovered giant, grabbing two of his longest swords and leaping down to the rubble. "All of you will perish at my hands, unsightly vermin! I shall have to bathe for days to wash your stench off me, but it will be worth it!"

Rider frowned. "You are insane."

"… mother!" Waver eeped.

"Haw haw! Dat's better, Goldie!" Assassin stepped over to stand beside Archer. "Tell ya what, let's make it a game! Whoever snuffs the most dweebs wins! I'll even let ya pick who ya wanna try first!"

"I want the mad dog, you handle whoever you want," Gilgamesh glacially replied. "But be warned, you too shall be annihilated after they fall. I am saving the worst for last."

"Woo, I'm shakin'!" Lobo laughed, then stuck his tongue out to Berserker. "Sorry, Big Boy, but you gotta dance with Blondie first! Solomon Grundy, right? A honor, dude! Any enemy o' Superman is okay in th' Main Man's book!"

"Solomon Grundy? Like the nursery rhyme?" Berserker snorted. "Sorry, but you got the wrong man. And anyway, I'm sick of all this stupid talking!" he roared, charging ahead at Gilgamesh while all hell broke loose again.

"Yee-haw!" Lobo took aim and began shooting at the other Servants, with Saber and Lancer managing to block some of his pulse blasts with their weapons, and Shielder managing to stop the rest. "You gals are lucky, tonight's a special Ladies' Night at the Lobo Lounge! All chicks get extra discounts on their fraggin'! Th' horsefucker pays in full, tho'!"

"Have some respect!" Rider demanded, shooting a blast from her horn and literally vaporizing the gun off a surprised Assassin's hand. Meanwhile, Berserker's insane fury had quickly pushed Archer back and into the defensive, but the smaller Servant had quickly reopened his Gate of Babylon, dropping even more treasures and tools, now most of them of the heavy and blunt varieties, on the gray giant to stall him. Being much closer now, Berserker could not use the thunderclap trick again without first giving an opening to Archer.

The golden warrior aimed true and skillfully, sinking one of his blades, swung upwards, into the monster's throat, then twisting it around in attempt to behead him. Berserker, in more pain now than before, lashed out before Archer could finish cutting his neck all the way, punting the King away from him and into a wall. The man beast then doubled on himself, unable to speak, coughing up huge splotches of dark blood all over the shattered pavement instead.

At the same time, Lobo produced his hook and chain out again, swinging them around with a feral guffaw. "'Kay, I liked that, Horsie! I'm almost gonna regret turnin' ya into glue wit' dis instead…"

Then, however, Shielder swept herself, ducking under the spinning hook, and bashed him in the face with Lord Camelot. "One!" she shouted.

Assassin blinked, briefly stunned by the direct hit. "One? One o' what?!"

"Two!" Shielder said next, slamming the shield down on his head.

Lobo gurgled, eyes popping out comically. "… oh! One, two, I get it now! An' what's—"

"THREE!" Shielder cried then, ramming the massive thing straight against Assassin's crotch, eliciting a long pitched whine from him just as he flew over to get imbedded into the same wall as Archer.

"… I think I'm in love now," Lobo then quietly told his fellow Servant. "You?"

"Oh, just—SHUT! UP!" Archer literally exploded himself out of the wall with a huge golden flash, sending pieces of it flying everywhere. One of them clonked Waver in the head and instantly knocked him out, as he splayed himself all over Rider's back. Another almost hit a gasping Irisviel, but Saber reduced it to dust with a swing of her invisible blade before it could even graze the homunculus.

"Master!" Rider gasped. "Oh dear, Master, are you okay?!"

Archer flexed a hand in and off, staring murderously at everyone present. "Do you really think you may make a mockery out of the greatest of all kings and live?! Mongrels! No, worse than mongrels! Slime! Sacks of protoplasm! Fetid blobs of excrement! You now shall face the ultimate power of-!"

Before he could invoke Ea and end most of the War right then and there, however, Berserker simply kicked him high into the sky.

"This isn't going to work," Kirei predicted.

"It has to work," Tokiomi disagreed with an intense, fiery stare in his eyes. "We are gambling too much on it."

"And thus, it is much that we could lose," the young priest observed evenly. "Archer has let himself be drawn into a disadvantageous position. Fighting in close range like that, he is no match for Berserker, and he and Assassin simply refuse to work together."

"We could force them," Tokiomi squeezed his right fist into his left hand, almost trembling with rage.

"Respectfully, sir," his disciple said, "I must point out you cannot enforce the ability to work well with others, even through a Command Seal. We can certainly force them to try… but their true natures will not allow it regardless. Assassin might survive this only because of his healing factor, but Archer…"

Tokiomi bubbled inside with a powerful mix of conflicting emotions, but then he gazed over at Rin and forced himself to calm down. "Very well," he told the younger Kotomine. "You might be correct after all."

"… wow," Lancer said quietly, her gaze following the Archer's trajectory until he was another golden ping among the stars. "I must say, that was impressive."

"Guy talks way too much," Berserker grouched. "Oh, come on now, doesn't he ever tire?!"

For, just as quickly, Archer was zooming back down, to land back right where he'd been moments ago, gorgeous armor battered but not cracked yet, face strained but still fully energetic. "You… despicable… You…!" he trembled in fury, readying another sword already.

Archer, that'll be enough, sounded the small voice of his Master in his mind. Just get back already, will you?

"No!" he shouted. "Just be quiet, child! I will not rest until these abominations are all dead! They have insulted me for the last time!"

"Yeah, what he said, Padre!" Assassin growled to his own Master's voice, rising from the rubble Archer had buried him into when he destroyed the wall. "A guy's gotta pride to look after, right?! Mebbe someday ya'll understand, when ya become a man yerself!"

Kirei's voice sighed tiredly. How much do I have to pay you to come back to me right now?

One second later, after a brief, faint sound that reminded one of a cashing machine going off from his head, Lobo vanished in a flash, with a wide greedy grin on.

"Well now," Berserker said, cracking his huge knuckles together, "looks like Biker Boy left ya to hang dry, didn't he…?"

Gilgamesh squinted indignantly and, much to Berserker's own surprise, somehow managed to move fast enough as to actually grab him by the throat, and actually make him feel his squeeze. "You got a reprieve only tonight, animal. Next time, you die!" he swore, before disappearing in silence as well.

Berserker blinked, then scowled. "… well. Now that was a dud. Waste of our time, Master!" he chuckled disturbingly after that, disappearing too much to the others' confusion.

But after a moment, Rider sighed. "Of course. Berserkers waste so much prana, his Master must have commanded him to retreat. What about you? Do you still desire to continue this wanton foolishness?"

"There is no foolishness in a War fought for a noble cause, Rider," Saber sternly said. "I appreciate pacifism, but there are instances where it is sadly out of place."

"I know," Rider said, starting to ascend with her unconscious, spiral-eyed Master secured on top of her. "I only hoped this wouldn't be one of such cases. Farewell, Saber. I do pray we don't have to meet again as enemies."

"So do I, actually," Saber calmly said as they watched her fly off.

"Master will be disappointed," Lancer sadly mused while starting to disappear, too. "Saber, I would have liked it better had we been able to battle one on one…"

And then she was gone as well.

"Ah!" Irisviel said at last, following several moments of silent awkwardness. "That was anticlimactic, wasn't it? I mean, I'm glad no one died, but…"

"It's only a matter of time," Saber stated grimly. "Tonight, we only were gauging each other." She looked at the hilt of her sword, the only currently visible part of it. "Next time, I will have to pronounce your True Name, old friend…"

Statistics:

Class: Archer.

True Name: Gilgamesh of Uruk.

Other Names and Aliases: King of Heroes, Mankind's Oldest Hero, First of Heroes, Golden Hero, Gil, Gil-Gil.

Alignment: Chaotic Good.

Origin: The Epic of Gilgamesh (Summeria),

Strength: B.

Endurance: C.

Agility: C.

Mana: B.

Luck. A.

Noble Phantasm: EX.

Class Skills:

Independent Action: A+.

Gilgamesh has an incredible capacity for spending little prana despite a very liberal use of his abilities, thanks to his semi divine status. A carefree, stubborn and independent person with little tolerance for others' suggestions or controls, he will try and stray away from a Master's influence as soon as possible, and has the means to do so, although he's known to stick around individuals he will consider 'interesting' on a whim.

Charisma: A+.

A born leader, Gilgamesh's strong personality overcomes those around him. Through pure personal charm, strength of word, and pure relentless verbiage, most will soon feel willing to overlook his character flaws and follow him because of a combination of fear, respect and actual admiration. Those who are of divine or royal blood and gifted with the Charisma or Mind Pollution skills can avoid the effects of this personal buff, however.

Personal Skills:

Divinity: B.

Gilgamesh is, by birth, three quarters god and one quarter human, so this Skill should be ranked A+; however, as he grew up to hate the gods, his own despise for the divine lowered this level in his Saint Graph. Gilgamesh will, by default, tend to question any being he perceives as godlike, and he will rebel against them at the first sign of what he perceives as injustice.

Magic Resistance: E.

A special case. Gilgamesh has a very low level of this Skill in his body (again, one that would be greatly increased if he embraced his divine heritage), but for practical purposes, the staggering amount of anti-magic charms, seals and wards he has collected (see next Skill) has augmented his imperviousness to magic to an A. He can plow through the attacks of most Casters, even those from the Age o Gods, with ease.

Collector: EX.

Through his life, Gilgamesh gathered all riches the world had to offer in his time, and as first of Kings, he considers himself entitled to possession of anything created through human history. He owns weapons, tools, and assorted objects from all points of mankind's development, which he stores in the Gate of Babylon; however, this doesn't mean he knows how to use them all. He is, regardless, a decent swordsman, rider and driver, and even spellcaster, although nowhere in the level of true specialists. It is important to note Gilgamesh has no access to items exclusive to alien societies or civilizations of gods or demons.

Golden Rule: A.

A paragon of physical fitness and male beauty, Gilgamesh's body is naturally athletic and doesn't deteriorate with age or his luxurious, hedonistic lifestyle, thanks to a combination of an active outlook and divine ascendance. His attractiveness adds to the charm effect he has on people, other than those with extremely high willpower or unusual tastes concerning beauty. And yes, even if you're a man you'll go gay for him.

Noble Phantasms:

Gate of Babylon: E- A++.

A special storage where Gilgamesh keeps his vast treasure. In battle, it manifests as a barrage of weaponry discharged from the King's vault, a massive onslaught of lethal instruments relentlessly raining on the adversary at a fast pace. As Gilgamesh has no fine control over exactly which weapons will drop at a given time, the effect of the Noble Phantasms flung may vary greatly, but eventually, the sheer size of the barrage will mean something will connect to the desire effect unless the Phantasm is interrupted. Once this Gate is stopped by Gilgamesh, all used weapons will immediately return to his arks.

Enuma Elish: Star of Genesis Separating Heaven and Earth: A++.

Ea, Gilgamesh's ultimate Noble Phantasm, the embodiment of the first sword, drilling from above and cutting through material space. Used without caution, it might pierce across Earth and destroy it.

Enkidu: The Chains of Heaven: A+.

Powerful chains that are said to bind even gods, named after Gilgamesh's close comrade and sole true friend. It has been stated breaking free from them would require EX ranked strength, a miracle as no human being can achieve that level, not even a demigod. With them, Gilgamesh can crush an enemy or simply hold them in place for another kind of finisher.

Summon: "Mwaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Mongrel! You must have used all your luck, just to be able to catch my attention!"

Likes: "Naturally, I love treasures more than anything else. The achievements of humanity are for their King to collect and appreciate with proper wisdom, after all!"

Dislikes:"Another easy answer! Mediocrity, the unwillingness to live your existence to its fullest, offends my sense of achievement! I hate all lives that will not exploit their true potential! Keep that in mind, mongrel!"

Holy Grail: "If it truly is a great treasure, then it's already mine. It is just a matter of walking to it and grabbing it. As for a wish, what could I receive that I could not achieve on my own?"

Birthday: "Today? The day of your birth?" Fool! You should have told me one week in advance! Even the smallest celebration must be prepared properly!"

Event: "Oh? Another festival for the masses? Very well. You have my permission to attend, mongrel."

Extra Dialogue:

"King of Knights: Hah! I suppose it is an apt description. But even a King of Knights answers to a King of Kings. In due time, so she shall submit to me." (When you have Saber Artoria).

"A mad dog is always fun to see run around, chasing his own shadow. But at the end, they still have to be put down." (When you have Assassin Lobo).

The Adventures of Tohsaka Aoi, Homemaker!

"Truly, a meager abode you have, mongrel," the King of Heroes sneered, languidly reclining on Tokiomi's favorite couch while sipping a glass of his best wine. "The whole of it would have fit into one of my chambers in Uruk! How much has mankind declined in my absence!"

"I'm sorry my humble home isn't up to your standards, Your Majesty," Tokiomi mousily replied, lowering his head.

"And your wine! So watery and insipid!" Gilgamesh arrogantly tossed some of it on the room's floor with a flick of his wrist. "I would say my tastebuds are offended… had they only tasted anything in the first place!"

"I, I had them brought from your homeland especially in your honor, O Wise King," Tokiomi stammered.

"Then even the once rich Babylon has gone to seed as well!" Archer lamented melodramatically. "Will I have to raze this world to ashes so a better one may be born? Or is such a hopeless task unworthy of my efforts…?"

"Excuse me, My Lord," Tokiomi's wife saintly said, approaching Gilgamesh with a mop and bucket. "But you have just left a stain on my floor…"

The haughty blond snorted. "So what? Woman, I couldn't care any less about this mongrel's cheap floors! In my opinion, the whole lot of them are already a stain on my sensibility!"

She kept on that angelic smile of hers. "I'm terribly sorry, Lord Archer, Sir, but I'm afraid I didn't speak loud enough as to be understood. I shall correct that for Your Majesty's sake. I never said this was my beloved husband's floor… I SAID IT WAS MY FLOOR," she finished with a booming demonic voice as the air blackened around her.

Gilgamesh blinked, sat up very straight, and wordlessly extended a hand aside to accept the mop and bucket from the once again beatifically smiling Aoi. "Our most honest thanks for your infinite kindness, O Highest of Kings," she sweetly told him while Tokiomi did his best to mesh back against the wall.

The Servant rasped arrogantly while mopping, Aoi walking out to the tune of her blessed whistling.. "Of course, I do this only because it came to me, in a sacred royal whim! Gilgamesh has done everything under the sun, from the most sublime to the most mundane, as to experience all a human being can live through! Mopping included because, what kind of royal life is not lived to its fullest? No activity is strange to Gilgamesh's boundless experience! No skill is above his absolute control! Not even the lowest ones! They are all tried and mastered at least once, just for novelty's sake! Oh, damnation, I think some of it spilled on the carpet, too…!"

Assassin relaxed under the sun, sitting on a floater at the middle of the Tohsaka Pool, with a can of beer in a hand and sunglasses on his grinning face. "Yeah, man, t'is the good life!" he laughed to himself. "Who woulda thought it, Japan ain't that bad after all! Babes are a bit too flat f'r my tastes, but other than dat, I could get used ta visit dis dump every once in a while!"

Aoi approached the edge of the pool. "Excuse me please, Assassin-sama, sir… but, would you terribly mind putting on some shorts, or at the very least swimming trunks, while enjoying our pool? We have a child in this house, after all…"

"Yeah? An' how izzat my fault?" Assassin growled. "Not my blamed responsibility if ya heartless parents didn't move yer kid away 'fore this whole bloody brouhaha started! Honestly, th' nerve of s'me people… Keepin' their brats around during them dangerous times, an' then whinin' when they get their spines ripped off, or get an eyeful of good ol' Main Man Meat… Typical fraggin' soccer mom! Good thing I offed mine 'fore kindergarten!"

Aoi's face twitched a little. "You know, Assassin-sama, I do think you might be right to some degree, and I apologize to you… INDEED, I THINK WE MIGHT HAVE TO REMOVE SOME 'LITTLE FRIENDS' FROM HERE RIGHT NOW!" she howled madly to make a Berserker proud, pulling massive chainsaw out and swinging it dangerously towards Assassin's crotch while turning it on.

He yelped, then began paddling away in the opposite direction. "'Kay, 'kay, got th' message! Feetal's gizz! I'll go fer some Speedos or sumthin' already, lady! Damn! Wuz startin' ta catch some cold on th' family jewels already, anyway…!"

In the depressing darkness of his motel room, Matou Kariya turned off the signal coming to him from one of his spy bugs and sighed deeply. "Damn you, Tokiomi…! Why did you have to be the luckiest of all men in this world…?"

Banner blinked, wondering exactly what his Master, poor twisted pathetic stalking creep he was, had seen this figured out this 'Aoi' had to be some sort of angel like his Betty, the way Kariya worshipped her…