Welcome everybody, to the next installment of Fate: OSG!

Disclaimer: Please refer to Chapter 1.

Let's go!


I made camp that night in the ruins what I assumed were an old church that night, one of the many casualties of the great battle for that miracle I spoke of earlier. As of yet, no one on the outside had gone to investigate the carnage, no doubt reasoning that anything of value would still be there in a few days.

By my side, wrapped in blankets I had scavenged from the place, were my two 'companions' from my recent excursion to another dimension, sleeping their lives away as they recovered from their injuries.

I almost laughed. It was almost one day since the end, yet to me it felt as if a lifetime had passed. I had fought and lost to an all-powerful, crazy-as-hell magician, traveled to an entirely different world, saved the lives of two beings who were more than likely not human (I quickly realized upon some observation that the horned helmet on the girl's head was in fact real bone and had been seemingly fused to her very skin!), and now was waiting for them to wake up and hopefully not try and blast me to hell.

"You shouldn't worry so much," said the previously mentioned, all-powerful, crazy-as-hell magician from the other side of the fire I had kindled earlier, warming his hands in front of it. "You'll find that they are rather decent people, though the little one has quite a bit of spunk to her."

I scowled at him. Although I had no true need of it, I decided it would be best to make a fire for my unconscious guests to stay warm. On the other hand, that offer did not extend to this man.

"What the hell are you still doing here, old man?" I asked with an annoyed tone. "Don't you have other lost souls to torment?"

He frowned, almost like a child. "I have a name, you know."

"You never gave it."

His eyes widened as he slapped himself lightly. "Of course, how rude of me! No wonder you're so cross with me, aside from the whole, 'no risk of dying' bit."

"Yeah, I'm a little miffed about that," I replied, gesturing to the sleeping forms beside me. "The only living things I encountered, for a given value of living at the time, were these two right here. Unless you were referring to 'death by falling masonry', I was completely fine."

He sighed. "Well, as to my name, it is Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, one of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, Wizard Marshal and wielder of the Second Magic called Kaleidoscope, the ability to observe and travel between parallel worlds and even to entirely different dimensions. You may refer to me as Zelretch."

"Well then... Zelretch," I began slowly, "Mind telling me exactly why you've taken such an interest in me?"

He looked at me quizzically. "What? I just told you my name, and that I'm a vampire, an extremely powerful magician and capable of traveling to entirely different planes of existence, and all you question is why I'm hanging around with you?"

"Did I stutter?" I answered simply. "I've dealt with all that before, save the vampire bit, and I've faced worse than monsters than that."

His face cleared in realization. "Oh, because you aren't of... ah yes, the Grail provided you with the information..."

A rush of irrational anger hit me when he said 'Grail'. Without hesitating, I drew my sword and pointed it at him. "Don't mention that damned thing again," I muttered darkly.

He looked entirely unfazed by my declaration, probably because he could smash my ass into the ground without trying if I attempted to attack. Still, he nodded. "If you insist."

I lowered my sword. "Back to what I was asking..."

"To the point, are you? All right then..." he began as he shifted his position slightly, probably to get comfortable. "It's quite simple really. By your own admission, you're an existence that shouldn't be here anymore, yet still are. You're an anomaly in this world, and for me, someone who has seen, despite so many changes, so many things play out the same way, even after traveling to dozens upon dozens of different worlds, it's a refreshing change of pace."

"Why?"

"Because you have the potential to change things in such a way that nothing will be the same again in this world," he answered me. "Call me crazy, but I want to see what sort of changes you can bring. I'll even help you get started, if you desire."

I snorted. "Spare me the pleasantries. I don't want to do any of that. I want to die and be with the woman I love."

"Even after everything you've gone through recently? You're not even supposed to be in this world with the loss of the miracle, true, yet here you are. Don't you think that's a sign you're meant to do more with your new lease on life?" He then gestured towards the two sleeping figures next to me. "You're just gonna leave them to there, in a world they have no knowledge of? As you may have guessed, they aren't human, nor anything this world has ever seen: Amalgamations of suffering souls given a single form, able to interact with those who have strong spiritual senses, now given living bodies once more by absorbing the phozon crystals, the very essence of life, into their bodies. They'll die here, or worse, be experimented on by those who want to know what they really are."

"Don't you guilt-trip me," I warned him angrily, "You're the one who sent me to save them in the first place."

"And what about your promise to your wife?" he added seriously, his words smashing into me like a hammer. "She wanted you to live and be happy. How will you face her in the afterlife if you just die like that, without even trying?"

"How the hell did you-"

"I once observed your world, or rather an alternate version, with the Kaleidoscope, and saw you and your wife make a similar pact. I simply guessed that you went through something similar when I first saw you, otherwise you would have stabbed yourself without hesitation." He replied simply. "And here you are, being offered such a chance, a chance to find happiness again, to make a difference, if not for the world, then at least for those two sleeping next to you, and you're refusing to take it? That a betrayal if I ever heard one."

I wanted to say something in return: a rebuttal, an insult, a threat. I wanted to strike at this damned old geezer, to teach him that I didn't give two shits what he thought about me and my decisions. But when I opened my mouth, words refused to take form, and when I tried to move my body, actions refused to be followed.

For the longest of moments, I just sat there and glared at Zeltrech, who stared back with a calm, yet slightly accusatory gaze, completely unfazed at the only action my body would let me throw at him.

In the end, it was I who looked away.

"Goddamnit," I muttered quietly.

Zeltrech's gaze softened slightly. "Now that you're willing to see-"

You know, I sometimes hear about how you should approach a problem with rationality and calmness. Even when everything goes to hell, it never does anyone good to just explode in a rant of anger. As a civilized person, one has the obligation to approach a problem without freaking out, but to look at it with an objective eye. Some call it 'quiet dignity and grace' as I would later learn.

Admittedly, Zeltrech had given me some very good reasons to not kill myself, and I have to say that a lot of my currently churning emotions were really just caused by my own personal anger at being proven wrong by him.

Still, he had just guilt-tripped me, so I used that as my justification for my next action, weak as it may have been.

With all the 'quiet dignity and grace' I could muster, I brought my fist back and moved to sock Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, one of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, Wizard Marshal and wielder of the Second Magic called Kaleidoscope, right in the face.

And I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel pretty damn good in the process.

OSG Headquarters (Lab)

Edgar Silverstein was a hard man to surprise. Having faced down things that would drive most normal beings insane, and doing other things that most would see as insane or impossible, it was rather hard to be surprised by much.

However, faced down with what was currently lying on a hospital bed, he honestly had to say this was a new addition to the amount of times he had been surprised in recent memory.

The thing in question was a human being... at least, that was what the general consensus of whatever the hell they had pulled out of the Void was. It had the appearance of a girl in perhaps her early teens, with slightly sunken eyes (they couldn't tell what color due to them being closed), a tan complexion, and long, light blond hair with an ahoge and tied into a braid held together with, of all things, a large silver blade. She was wearing what appeared to be black and grey-white, futuristic and what he could only describe as sword-themed armor, with some bright yellow highlights here and there, particularly around the upper thighs, shoulders, and the area between the later and the elbows.

However, he could tell whatever she was really was, she was certainly meant for combat, as a closer inspection of her armor would show.

Two black, silver-edged blades were attached to the undersides of her arms, and there was silver armor that completely covered her legs save for a space where she could properly bend her knees in the direction she needed to go, with a thin silver blade completely covering the front of said armor on each leg so that any kick would have devastating effects. Said blade was actually what would really touch the ground as she walked, due to the fact that the armor completely covered her feet, ending as sort of a blunted triangle shape that would drag across the ground and do some serious damage when used on an enemy.

And of course, he certainly couldn't ignore the set of eight black, yellow-edged blades that seemed to attach to her back in sort of a wing-like formation, four on each side. Even with her unconsciousness, said blades were all near her side, four on each side of the bed on the ground.

Honestly, he was beginning to think the consensus should be either 'cyborg' or 'artificial human'.

Earl stood next to him, simply staring at the newcomer's face as the machines hooked up to her occasionally beeped, the only sign she was actually in any way alive.

"...Wow."

Edgar turned to look at Earl. "That's it? The entire English language, and quite a few words in other languages, and all you have to say is 'Wow'?"

Earl didn't turn to look at him. "What else is there to say? We find something floating around in the Void between dimensions, something that's still alive, for a given value of alive, at that, and it looks like it came straight out of some sort of sci-fi show? What else needs to be said?"

"Aren't you curious about anything else? Who she was, where she came from?" Giro interjected, coming up behind them to stare for a few moments as well. "What the hell happened to her?"

"Well, whatever happened to her obviously wasn't pretty," Earl responded. "Don't you remember what we saw?"

All three men collectively flinched. While only Edgar had been there to witness it happen in full, Earl and Giro having arrived with Jeanne and Chryssie near the end, they had all seen the state that the bedridden figure in front of them had been in when she had finally emerged from the portal. Her armor had been cracked several places, all but three of her blades chipped or outright destroyed, and blood had caked a good deal of her body, with her back practically covered in it. That last bit made sense, as Doctor Ciel revealed that she had two deep, practically fatal wounds in that area. Even using several Phozon crystals hadn't been enough to fully heal the injuries, which was why she was currently hooked up to the machines here.

"Still, I'm surprised she hasn't stirred once in all this time," Giro admitted. "I mean, I know whatever happened to her was brutal, but if it wasn't for those machines showing an occasional beep, I would have sworn she was dead. I don't even think she's breathing."

"Me too," Earl agreed. "I mean, aren't those crystals supposed to be like the ultimate healing items? Yet she still looks like she belongs in a morgue rather than here."

Edgar just continued to watch for a few moments. "...Yeah." He then turned to the two of them. "You guys get going to whatever it is you were doing before all this, just like Jeanne and Chryssie. I'm gonna stay here for a little bit."

Earl nodded. "Right then."

Giro looked slightly more reluctant, but nodded as well. "Take care, Edgar."

The two walked away and left the room. Edgar didn't move until he heard the sound of the door shut behind them.

He sighed, then, without looking behind him, simply said, "So Dr. Ciel, mind telling me what you've found from looking at our guest?"

Said person walked up and stood next to him, staring at the comatose figure. In all the time he had come to know her, Edgar respected her knowledge and ability, being the person who ultimately perfected the risky technology and magic of dimensional hopping, as well as being the one who was responsible for allowing Giro to fight at his full strength. She was brilliant in the greatest sense of the word, yet also humble about it: The perfect combination in his eyes.

"Well, I can tell you what we've already confirmed. She's definitely not human. I think the best way to describe her would be what happens when someone creates an artificial human and integrates it with technology. However, there are a few things odd about her."

Edgar looked at Ciel. "What things?"

"It would appear that this particular AH," Ciel began, using the shortened term for 'Artificial Human', "was more or less designed as a prototype, a specimen meant to be studied and experimented upon in order to improve upon the design. My scanners indicate there are some traces of prior experimentation: scarring on several parts of her body and even traces of electrical exposure; however, I can't confirm that, mostly due to the condition of her mental state."

"Tell me more about that."

She nodded. "In due time. However, my studies suggest that she was eventually restored for usage in battle, and if the condition of her body and weapons are any indication, she saw quite a bit before her current state. How she ended up in the Void is beyond me though. Perhaps her opponent threw her into a dimension rift after fatally injuring her, or perhaps she did so herself to stop a threat. I'm not entirely certain, even though she apparently died taking the bullet for someone."

Edgar looked back at the subject of their conversation, in particular at her face. Staring at her young, strangely innocent face, he frowned. "What I want to know is how was she supposed to use those blades by her side," he said, gesturing towards the damaged swords on the ground. "I don't think she was supposed to hold them."

"I believe that she had a form of controlling them by making them float, probably by exerting her power on them, and then manipulating them as necessary," Ciel replied, then gestured at her feet. "She would probably use a similar way of moving, as I can't see her making much progress on walking with that armor on. However, she likely couldn't do so now even if she could wake up."

"Why do you say that?"

"She lacks a power source." Noticing his confused glance, she elaborated. "When I say 'power source', I mean she lacks any sort of ability to actually manipulate her weapons or powers while in that armor. My scanners indicate she had some sort of engine installed in her body at some point, most likely to serve that purpose, but now it's gone. If she took the armor off, she would be able to move around and act as any normal person, but she would be just that, a normal person."

Edgar nodded, then stopped. "Wait... earlier you said that 'even if she could wake up'. What did you mean by that?"

Ciel sighed. "Well, that's where things start getting complicated. I think the best way to start this would be like this: Is that girl even alive?"

Edgar stopped, then looked at her as if she had just grown a second head. "What are you talking about?" He gestured towards the machines. "Of course she's alive, if only barely. I was actually afraid the crystals wouldn't help her the way she was..."

Ciel stopped him. "You're partly right."

"What?"

"Physically? Yes, she is alive, as those machines can attest to and your crystals have successfully done. However, in terms of spiritually? She as dead as a seventy year-old corpse."

"What?" Edgar repeated, not quite understanding what Ciel was saying. "How can she be both dead and alive?"

"She's an empty shell, Edgar," Ciel replied. "She's completely dead inside. Any trace of the person who may have once been this girl is either completely gone or buried under a deep layer of subconscious. For all I can tell, she might have been developed like this. And when I tried to use the mind probe to try and find something, all I got were fractured memories that may or may not even be really hers."

"Did you find anything?"

"All I found out was her name, a few scraps of battles, some recollection of whatever the hell happened to her during that supposed experimentation," as she said that, she shuddered a little, "the person who restored her to fighting capacity, and her last moments before everything else becomes a complete blank. And even of what I mentioned, most of it's jumbled and might even be corrupted."

"Was there anything clear?"

"Aside from her name and last moments? No."

"...What was her name?"

"Lambda," Ciel replied. "Lambda-11."

Unknown to the two of them, a presence, a shadow without anything giving it form, watched the proceedings with something resembling curiosity. However, even if they had known of the shadow's presence, they would have paid it little alarm, as they would both soon forget all about it.

"Essentially, she lacks a soul," Ciel continued on. "She needs one in order to actually get off that bed and not be some sort of vegetable. But even if we found some wayward soul," she then noticed how Edgar seemed to be staring at the comatose girl with some strange new interest, quickly realizing what he was thinking, "and assuming we could convince her to willingly bind her soul to it, I don't know what would happen afterwards. The body might reject it, or the soul might have an overload from absorbing the memories the body's previous host, which I must remind you aren't very pleasant, the great majority of which."

To her worried state of mind, the look of interest only softened slightly. "The risks are great, true, but don't you think this girl, if she truly has suffered as you've said, would jump at the opportunity to be alive and with those who would never do such a thing to her again? And wouldn't said wayward soul be joyous at the chance to be alive again in the flesh as well?"

"It's still a big gamble..." Ciel warned.

"I see opportunity for two suffering beings who could have another shot at happiness." Edgar replied with conviction. "And even if it fails... well, things will not have changed much, will they?"

"Aside from potential insanity... nope." Ciel deadpanned.

"Would it not be the greater crime to sit here and know we did nothing?" Edgar asked her. "That we let an opportunity like this to save a friend slip by?"

She looked at him, then back at the comatose girl, then sighed. "...I guess you're right. I can't just leave her here and do nothing about it." She then looked at Edgar's hopeful face. "But do you even know the proper way to meld a soul with a new body?"

Edgar was silent for a moment, then his face fell.

"Yeah, thought so..." Ciel replied, while brushing a hand through her blond hair. "I guess we'll have to put it off until you do some research on that."

"Yeah, I guess so," Edgar muttered, then he turned around to walk out. "Just keep an eye on her, okay? Maybe she'll wake up without us doing anything."

Ciel just watched him go, then sighed to herself when he shut the door behind himself. "Seriously, you put such effort in making yourself out to be the big and intimidating boss, yet underneath all that you're still a kind person."

She then glanced once more at the comatose girl, then looked down at a small device in her hands that would warn her if anything changed.

"See you later, Lambda."

She then turned around and walked into her inner office that also doubled as her living/sleeping quarters, both to get some sleep and analyze the data she had collected on both her subject and the dimensional portal.

Several Hours Later (That Night)

Silence reigned throughout the lab, only the occasional beep from the machines hooked up to Lambda's form breaking through the quiet.

Not a single living being was inside, and with Ciel asleep in her quarters and the lab doors locked, no one could get inside anyways.

However, just because no one living was inside didn't mean that no one was still there.

The shadow which had watched and listened to Edgar and Ciel's talk finally bothered to glide over to the comatose being on the bed, then simply stared at her, as if trying to come to a decision. A decision that it had been debating to itself for the past hours.

If one was to look at the being floating there from a certain angle, they likely would have seen nothing. If they looked at it from another angle, they would have seen a human-shaped shadow that had no corresponding image. Yet another angle would show a ghostly skeleton, and another a smoky version of said skeleton. But the true form of the shadow, if one at it from just the right angle, at perhaps just slightly before the corner of your peripheral vision, would appear as a young girl of perhaps 13-14 years of age, with short blue hair and similarly matching eyes. Her outfit appeared as a blue and white dress that seemed to be meant for quick moment and flexibility, if the way it lacked any spare 'fruffles', the inclusion of the short skirt, and that she could probably run it easily were any indication. Partially obscuring her form was a white cape that went to her knees, which added an air of heroism to the look. Yet even then, her image would seemingly flicker, as if she couldn't decide whether she wanted to be seen or not.

Now, before one could try and say something, what floated near the bed of Lambda-11 was not some ghost or spirit of the past haunting the world. Rather, it would be more accurate to call it an 'echo', a facsimile of a living being created by magic or intense emotions. Unlike spirits, they do not possess any real memories of their original selves, or rather, what they do remember is jumbled and fragmented. Really, they could just be called existences given physical(?) form by accidents involving magic and very intense emotions such as despair. They lack any true ability to interact with the mortal world, save the most powerful ones, and even being sighted by others only lasts so long, as like echoes, they eventually fade from the memory of any who encounter them, save those who had extremely strong attachments to the 'original self'.

They are not Wraiths, as those are literally the souls of dead humans that have remained due to past grudges or regrets and are, as a rule, generally much stronger than a respective Echo, due to still being the original self. They are also not, though still strikingly similar to, Apparitions, fragments of a departed soul gathered together to form the traditional 'ghost', as they are more whole and self-aware despite being a simple 'copy' of the soul, capable of channeling their powers better as well as greater interaction with others, even capable of some level of higher thought.

However, the existence of an 'echo' is a sad one, which is why so few persist: Many will often fade away due to the process of their creation; if there was a lack of magical energy or intense emotion used, they won't last long. Even those that do survive that eventually choose to dispose of themselves, due to inescapable pressure of loneliness as no one acknowledges or forgets them.

An example of one such 'echo', or rather of a Wraith (as they are similar enough to be used synonymously to a degree) that survived and endured would be the Dead Apostle Ancestor called Stanrobe Calhin, who, even after being destroyed by the Church, still exists in the form of a wraith and retains a majority of his destructive power. He has at least 200 years before he completely and utterly dissipates, but he's a more extreme example than most, due to his creation being slightly different than the norm and sheer power.

This echo, however, persevered for almost 22 years, having been created by a massive flux of both magical energy and intense emotion of her original self. In that time, she had wandered the halls of this place countless times, occasionally interacting with its inhabitants and enjoying both conversations and scares, even knowing that they would eventually forget them. She had even watched with interest when that red-headed boy (Shirou, wasn't it?) first joined and began training, feeling like she should know something about him, though she had never interacted with him due to feeling strange whenever she saw the sword he carried.

However, none of these things could give her the thing she desired: True companionship, real friends. In the end, she was just smoke and shadow; not even a true existence.

And now, she had learned, quite by accident, that this thing in front of her needed a soul, something to give it the ability to move and breath again freely. She had spent the hours prior to this attempting to gather the courage, to rationalize that this was the chance she had been looking for: To finally be her own person.

But doubt held her back: What if it failed? What if something happened to either of them in the process? Would she effectively disappear as a separate existence, finally forgotten? Was it right to do this?

For a brief moment, a half-forgotten memory blossomed in her mind. She knew not to whom the words were addressed to, but she realized the voice was her own (her original self's?).

...If I regret my decision now, the feelings upon which it was based will be for naught.

The shade stopped and thought about those words. Well, perhaps 'thought' was too strong a word. Just like the body, an echo's mind is just as unstable and insubstantial, unable to form completely coherent thoughts, at least, not to a normal person. It didn't so much as think and do as just do, relying on instinct and half-formed memory to guide actions. The very reason she spent so much time waiting that she couldn't decide to act on the instinct to be recognized or the memories of what is right and wrong.

She recalled what she wanted, then what Edgar and Ciel had said. Finally, she remembered how Edgar's face had brightened upon hearing what Ciel had last said, and the realization of who he was implying to be used.

And then she came to her decision.

Looking down at the figure on the bed, she lifted one arm and thrust it into the girl's chest, forcing her way in.


Yeah, I thought about this for awhile, and I finally figured how I was gonna put that phantom mentioned earlier and this together. Now, you might be wondering if any of this has any significance on the plot, and yes, it does... in a sort of roundabout way, but it does connect together.

Hopefully, those answers will be revealed next chapter.

Remember, keep reviewing, faving, and following!