Disclaimer: I still have no claim to the licenses of the characters, or settings used in this story.
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The wind blew a soft breeze through the foliage surrounding the broken form of the Tohsaka Estate. The night seemingly quiet as the moon shined down its luminescence at those below.
With this brightness in the night, if one would carefully, they would see lights dancing around the darkness of the thickets. If one were to listen carefully, they would hear the rapid fire of gunshots, flying dirt, and splintering wood.
On this night of peace, a battle raged; a battle between a Hero and a Demon.
The both of them were powerful in their own right, skilled in their use of weapons and abilities.
The Demon was fast, with strength beyond measure of any normal man. It was armed with an array of weapons vastly more abundant than the resources under the Hero's disposal.
The Hero though was older than the Demon, he was wiser as well; and though the Demon could end the Hero's life with only the slightest bit of effort, it was not to be so.
The Hero was crafty. Always one step ahead of the Demon always at the exact place at the right time in order to counter the menacing magic under the Demon's control. For both Hero and Demon both drew their power from the same source.
The Demon moved with speed almost incomparable, her attacks were sent from all directions, her traps laid for the Hero to receive. Yet, the Hero was always one step ahead for that was what he did best.
He read the flow of the battle, made the right decisions and movement at the best possible moment.
But if anything, the Demon shared a relentless attitude on par with the Hero and it was here that kept them on even footing.
But the status quo had to break.
For time never stood still, and always delivered us to an end.
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Whoever had attacked him was good, very good. It was just that he was better.
Already in his mind he could tell that he was fighting something more than human, but the one known as the Magus Killer was not one to balk at such an adversity. In fact, you could say that he thrived on it.
Using the properties of his innate thaumaturgy he had been able to speed up his body in order to dodge a bullet that would have lodged itself in his head, a rather large caliber bullet.
Removing himself from his previous position, Kiritsugu made his way towards the surrounding forestry. Once more, his instincts screamed and without any further provocation, he ducked down. Again, he heard the roar of a firearm as well as the graze of the bullet he had barely manage to dodge.
Again, his gut shouted for him to move, and fast.
"Time Alter: Double Accel."
Re-activating his innate control on time within his body Kiritsugu made a beeline towards the trees. With each step he took, he had been able to leave behind a trail of bullets, each one trying to spray his blood onto the soil, each one just missing its mark as he managed to take a step forward before it would hit.
Kiritsugu ran straight towards the trunk of a rather robust tree and just as he was about to ram into the mighty wood, he pivoted on his forward foot, turning to reverse his facing, fired a short burst into the darkness behind him from his Calico, before turning towards his original facing and ducked to the side, disappearing from view.
Stepping into view into the briefest spotlights of lunar luminescence, a young girl with purple eyes observed the silence of the scenery. Her clothes slightly cut in some areas where she had managed to move out of the way from mage's parting shot.
The shadows covered her form with the passing of the clouds overhead from the wind. And when the light returned, she was gone.
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It was now a game of cat and mouse, albeit the mouse was just as much the predator as the cat was just as much the prey.
She had lost track of the rugged man as he made his exit into the forest. Both the shadows and the moonlight giving him the much needed cover he sought.
There was stillness all around her; even the nocturnal fauna was silent. As if they knew that on this night something dangerous was about.
The question was if it was her, or the man she was chasing.
Then the slight sound of movement, grass being brushed aside came from her left, but she did not move. She kept herself hidden behind the body of a large tree, making sure to keep the frame of her body small to reduce any potential targets on her person as she continued to listen.
Again, blades of grass being pushed were heard followed by the soft touch of wind that breezed by. With a decision firm in hand, she activated her power. Everything around was now drained of all color as the concept of time listened to her whims.
Darting out from the behind her encampment she followed the source of what she had heard. Seeing a dark shape ahead, and confirming her target, she brought her arm to bear, a US .45. Shots were fired, but due to the nature of her powers the projectiles slowed until they hung in midair. Though that status didn't last long as she cancelled her hold on time and the projectiles flew straight and true.
There was no rending of flesh, no cry of pain, just the sound of wood caving under pressure. That wasn't good, she had been had. Despite her advantages over the magus it still proved that there were things she could still learn.
What she thought was her opponent had been his black trench coat carefully hung on a small branch of a tree. No doubt a small and simple application of thaumaturgy had been able to fool her senses enough to make such an error.
A burst of gunfire, and she barely activated her ability yet again as a bullet sliced through her clothes and arm and another five were about to be buried into her chest. Two of which were already in the process of breaking through her skin.
Moving out of the way she repositioned herself. Once more seeing her target a fair distance to her right she fired another burst and hid once more out of sight before the color of the world seeped back into place.
Once there was no sign that her attack had reached its mark. Only the whizzing of bullets, both her own and her target's, were heard.
Something was not right.
Her opponent was actively predicting her movements and actions in some way. If not her for her power and her superior physicality and her own broad experience she would have lost long ago. It was a testament to the skill and wisdom the man-in-black possessed.
Still, such a setback was nothing in comparison what she had to go through before. Even now her goal hasn't changed, and nothing will deter her in completing it. Not with this golden opportunity in front of her.
A roar crashed through the darkness and she had been able to duck down just in time for a portion of the tree she was hiding behind let loose a small cloud of wood chips. A large caliber bullet had bitten through its husk.
Quickly slipping into her world of distorted time, she had emptied the rest of the ammo she had left in her clip before bounding away through the use of the tree branches overhead. She needed to think, this man was more than ordinary and more than what she had fought before despite her own vast combat experience, albeit said experiences were only against beings not entirely human in their own right anymore.
As she allowed time to continue once again, her power was able to twist the laws of the word regardless of its whims. It was a testament of the ability she still wielded despite her current state. It wasn't her best due to current limitations but for what she had to do, it would be enough.
Still, she was getting off-track; the task at hand needed her full attention. How was this magus able to keep up with her?
As she sat daintily on one of the upper portions of a slightly taller than average tree she pondered on what to do.
She replayed what she had seen during the brief skirmish.
Her opponent had used minor thaumaturgy to fool her senses. The black trench coat he had left hanging was given darker and more obscured features. And with the cover of night, as well as the unexpectedly timed gentle gust, it gave the impression that it was her target she had found and not just an article of clothing.
Also, it also seemed that her position was always compromised even before she knew it. So her target was probably utilizing a form of magecraft to pinpoint her location even with her movement being aided by her powers.
Fighting in the forest any longer was out of the question. This man was way beyond normal even for one such as herself. She had wanted to keep the subtlety of the situation alive for as much as possible even with the nearby wards of the land that kept those uninvolved from prying still in effect.
Well, that choice was taken out of her hands completely.
A small smirk appeared ever so slightly on her lips before she departed. A small part of her began feeling a little nostalgic at what she had decided to do.
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A strange chill went down his spine as he finished reloading his contender. Things were turning in his favor as he kept his opponent on the defensive. That ominous sign that his body produced was extremely foreboding.
He lost track of his target, already having recognized the girl he had seen previously during Caster's raid. He was also thankful that the girl, despite her powers of rapid reaction and movement, was still within the realm of susceptibility.
A quick application of alchemy he had picked up whilst with the Einzberns as well as an innovative use of Gradation Air and he had been able to set up a makeshift radar for himself to keep track of the girl's movements. This was in reminiscent of a spider's web. The immediate destruction of his projected wires allowed him to determine where his target was in the immediate vicinity.
Though, that didn't help him when she had forced him to use Double Accel once again when she had retaliated from his first strike. Now, she had disappeared from his senses after he had failed to hit her a second time once his wires detected her movement.
He had decided to move out and relocate to determine the next course of action. That was until a tree just a few feet away from his current position burst into flame. The heat seared into his body. The accompanying shockwave knocked him down and temporarily deafened his ears.
Already, past experiences and knowledge came to him, and immediately he reiterated his words to activate his thaumaturgy.
"Time Alter: Double Accel"
There was no time to waste, he had to move. Staying in the forest was out of the question and going out into the open was not an option he would take while potential sniper fire was waiting for him.
The best option was to retreat further into the forest, and farther away from the Tohsaka manor.
Perfect.
He would try again another time when the opportunity to do so would be available. For now though, it was time to beat quick feet and find his partner.
As he left the conflagration that was beginning to spread and after nearly stumbling from the usage of his magecraft, Kiritsugu couldn't help but try to piece together the mystery of that girl.
He had seen her once during Caster's raid, and at that time it was to aid him and El-Melloi. Now here she was defending the Tohsaka manor.
Things were not what as they seemed. Something was amiss, his gut was telling him that, and over the years he had learned to trust it.
Was she a gun-for-hire? No, it couldn't be. There were a handful of mages dedicated to using thaumaturgy in combat. There were even less than that that used the craft like he did.
There was also the fact that she looked too young to be a certified magus of any type. Not only that, but something disturbed him as he observed the brunette.
She moved and handled herself with experience, something that could not be replicated or taught, only earned. Then the last thing he noticed was her eyes.
It was something he had had seen in her orbs that he only saw when he looked into a mirror when he began his journey to try and save as many lives as he could in his pursuit of justice.
It was the eyes of resolution and determination; a will to see a goal done, no matter the cost.
Could it be that the girl was somewhat related to a Servant?
As Kiritsugu recovered from the blast that started his escape things were beginning to click into place. As the Magus Killer found his partner and started to bring her back to their base of operations to recover, a bigger picture was forming in his mind.
That girl was undoubtedly related to a Servant, and with almost all of their identities revealed, that only left the logical conclusion that she was related to the mysterious Archer in some way, as the pink-haired Servant was the one of the few Servants present during the attack on the Einzbern manor.
However, why would Archer protect the Tohsaka manor?
There was nothing to be gained as well, not with her Master accompanying her into a dangerous situation where her full strength would have been required to keep him safe.
No, there must be something, something important at the Tohsaka estate that would force Archer against all sense to cull her strength in order to protect.
The only thing would come to mind was her Master. If that was the case then Kotomine Kirei wasn't Archer's true Master. It was someone else, and that boiled down either Matou Kariya or Tohsaka Tokiomi; and he had a fair idea of who it was.
The operation wasn't a total waste, now the question was how to turn this information into an advantage he could use.
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Lancer could not help but once again glance to his side as he and his ally trudge through the enshrouding mists. The crimson stain on Archer's clothes was a painful reminder of his demons getting the better of him.
The wound had been bandaged with strips of cloth torn from Archer's own dress. The only thing that remained from the incident aside from the obvious was the fatigue from the pain Archer would occasionally show.
"It's not your fault Lancer." Archer said as she continued her steady steps with the Irish hero. Her eyes and ears were alert for any signs of movement.
Lancer himself couldn't help but sigh at the attempt of placation. "Be that as it may, it is still my hand that had injured you Archer." The weight of his weapons, Gae Dearg in particular,seemed to have increased.
"That's true." Archer opined and Lancer could not help but wince at the direct admission. "Still, was it your intention to harm me in the first place?" She then asked, her face still looking ahead.
"No." Lancer professed. "I only wanted to push back the illusion. It was never my objective to do you harm."
"See?" Archer then said a little jovially a little pride seeping as well. "You said it yourself. You never wanted to hurt me in the first place, so this was nothing more than an accident, of a sort."
Lancer noticed that Archer stopped walking and turned to look at him her expression softening in forgiveness and understanding. "You should stop shouldering the blame for things that were not fully in your control. You just acted in the situation you had found yourself in to the best of your abilities and judgment. So anything that had happened happened beyond your expectations. You already apologized so there is no need to torment yourself further."
Lancer sighed once again at the light sermon -if one would call it that- he received before smiling slightly in response. "Thank-you, Archer, for your words."
Archer returned his gesture but the atmosphere around quickly shifted as shadows shifted within the dense fog. A bestial screech and the sound of crunching stone heralded a being from the depths of a nightmare.
A giant demon, made of bone stalked out from the smoke. Its green eyes glowed menacingly as rows of canines in its wide mouth opened to release a foul breath. Despite its skeletal appearance, the two digitrade legs it stood on and the long and large arms that ended in massive claws gave it a powerful stance. It also looked fairly human differences aside.
Strangely there was a bulbous sack of flesh that was cradled in the creature's pelvis. Where it lacked a rib-cage, interlocking ivory curved gently around the sack in a protective embrace. No doubt that the sack was the creature's weak point.
The skeletal giant gave a roar as it pounced on the Servants with a speed that belied its size. Its left hand came down on both Lancer and Archer in a swipe. Thankfully they both were able to remove themselves from its immediate reach. Archer leapt back while Lancer surged forward with the intent of slaying the beast.
The Knight of Fianna used his speed and agility dodging the surprisingly fast attacks that came his way. To the left he stepped to dodge a fist that came crashing down above, to the right he slid in order to flow around a stomp that followed, and a quick hop over another swipe from the side and Lancer reached his target. Gae Dearg went straight and true and the tip of his lance reached its target in an upward thrust; only for his attack to shear against the bones of the beast; its toughness higher than he anticipated.
Yet, through the gash in the bone he made, blood began to flow and giant roared in apparent pain. This spurred the creature on as it moved even faster than what its size should have allowed.
A fist came down again, and again Lancer evaded. Yet, this attack was given far more force than the previous one. Thus, the green ground cracked beneath the knight's feet. Tremors surged and dust flew into the air, bringing visibility to an even lesser degree.
Then not even a moment had passed and Lancer had been dealt a wound as a large appendage smacked him from behind. This sent the Servant from where he stood to the ground.
This was not good, the creature had intelligence and it had started to use tactics in its movements now. He stood up, trying to gauge the position of the creature was when a voice called out through the dust cloud.
"Kyouko, get rid of the dust and mist. We can't see a thing."
He could clearly hear Archer's voice, but who was this Kyouko she called out to.
"You got it." A chipper voice replied and the dust kicked up as a torrent of wind began to circulate in the immediate area.
Already, he could see the beast, backing away in caution just a few feet from his position. From his side, he espied Archer, but with her were three other girls around her age; each of them sporting a different color and clothes, and each one sporting a weapon of choice next to the wounded Servant of the bow.
The one in read was sporting a spear, the one blue held a pair of sabers in her hand, while the one in yellow held what appeared to be a musket, at least from he could tell from the information that been given to him when he was summoned.
"Lancer." Archer turned to him. "I'll try to support you as much as I can, but be careful. Something isn't right."
He nodded, his trust in the hands of pink haired Servant. That and he couldn't help but wonder if Archer was already unleashing her Noble Phantasm already that took the shape of the three girls with her.
Once again turning towards the skeletal golem the beast's green eyes glowed as its mouth opened and it raised its head and it gave a roar louder than it had ever screeched. It was powerful enough, and long enough that parts of the ground the beast stood on began to crack.
And after it ended, Lancer could faintly hear the sound of footsteps beginning.
There were many footsteps.
They were loud footsteps.
And they were all heading towards their current position this very moment.
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This was bad.
This was really, really bad.
"Just where is everyone?" He couldn't but help but ask rhetorically as he shifted the weight of the Einzbern woman so that he could move a little faster.
Wherever it was they had found themselves was undoubtedly some form of bounded field, or which seemed to wreak havoc on one's senses. Unfortunately he hadn't had the time to properly speculate as he started running into strange creatures.
"Waver-kun." The woman, Irisviel as she had introduced herself to him when she regained consciousness, started a little weak. "They moved again, they're getting closer."
Inside his mind he couldn't help but curse at the situation. Ever since the two of them had separated from Kirei they had wandered into an area that seemed to be filled with ruined structures, as well as the occasional statues.
He thought they could finally get some rest and their bearing to properly plan their next action but instead they ended being chased by these strange things.
They took on the appearance angels, their faces covered as if they were weeping. However, it was due to luck that the two of them began to notice that the statues started to move whenever they looked away. One had gotten so close for the two magi to glance upon the hidden visage behind the hands.
They were horrifying and nothing like the one would associate with such an angelic presence.
Now Waver, with his rather short stature and rather underdeveloped physical prowess, was forced to give the Einzbern woman a piggyback ride, with her facing the back so as to make sure these statues wouldn't move.
Problem was, every time they blinked, no matter how short it was, the creatures were able to continuously close the distance.
As his breathing started to become labored and his eyes began to water from dryness, he resisted to urge to blink as he spotted more statues popping into his peripheral.
He had to come up with something and he had to come up with it fast.
He, Waver Velvet, did not go through all this trouble to die in this godforsaken location. And he did not want to die just because he had to blink.
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Once more he let the bullets of his new weapon fly as more mockery of knights kept surging from the mist. He made sure to protect their flanks as they proceeded onward, Saber, Arturia, slicing down more and more of this monstrosities with a conviction that he was starting to find disturbing.
He had yet to say anything to his King ever since his Master had worded a carefully phrased command to bring back his sanity. No longer did he drown himself in the madness of despair. He was now forced to face the reality before him.
Yet, at this moment, it was a reality he didn't want to face. Just what could he say to the King he had betrayed, to the King that understood his reasons despite his broken vows and oath, to the King that would always forgive him?
Yet, the King before him was changing. When found Saber about to be cleaved by these monsters he found her clutching her head as if a tormented. She was shouting to mockeries she could only hear; and slowly it seemed to be affecting her as time and distance wore on and on. They had been trudging through this maze without walls for some time now after all.
It was subtle but he could notice the changes in his King. Her attacks started to lose the fine control she exhibited and he had known she possessed. Now, she was striking her enemies with a cold and merciless fury.
Something was happening to his King, and yet, he could nothing. Perhaps if he revealed himself he could ease her pain and torment, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to do so, and this was hardly the time and place after all.
Footsteps from behind reached his ears, too close for comfort. Whirling around to deal with whatever it was that had snuck from behind he was surprised when he saw what was behind him.
Her golden, wavy locks framed the side of her face perfectly as her reached just above her bosom. Her elegant face was with a smile and her eyes danced with delight.
"Hello my love, 'tis good to see once more."
It was Guinevere, his love.
It took a moment for Berserker, Lancelot du Lac, to realize that he was no longer clad in his unidentifiable black armor but the armor he wore proudly whilst under the service of his King.
"Betrayer!"
A familiar voice came from behind him. It was a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. A voice that was full of fury and hate, both were well placed when he turned once more to see who it was. The vision of his love fading the moment he began to do so.
It was his sworn brother knight Bedivere. He pointed his sword straight with persecution in his eyes.
"You sullied your oath as a knight Lancelot." He growled. "You betrayed us; you betrayed our country, our King." Bedivere took a step forward. "Their blood is on your hands traitor!"
And just like Guinevere, Bedivere faded away. Now in his place stepped forth from the mist was knight clad in black, and despite knowing the absurdity and knowing it wasn't real. Lancelot could not help but step back as he gazed into the pale face and golden eyes of his King. Now clad in black, the holy sword in her hand now stained with shadows and lines of red, he couldn't help but feel the weight the visage bore against him.
Then without warning Arturia attacked and despite his yearning for this punishment in the past, battle-honed reflexes in such a hostile environment took over, and he drew his blade. Arondight shone brightly in his hands and his blade clashed with the now blackened Excalibur.
His King did not show any visible response to his defense. Only the surging strikes that came afterward were her response. Again he defended himself his thoughts in turmoil as old demons and sins came back to haunt him yet again.
His defenses began to wear down.
Wasn't this what he wanted?
He was losing ground.
Didn't he want to atone for his crimes?
He was knocked down to his knees, his blade clattering to his side just out of reach.
Could he finally let his conscious be clear and forgive himself?
He looked into the golden eyes of his King once more as she raised her blackened blade high for the finishing blow. And as her blade descended his mind became blessed with an acuity that can only be achieved as one begins to witness something that may cause their death.
He was being a fool.
Berserker rolled in time to avoid the blade and fluidity in his dodge he picked up his blade and came back to his feet.
Insanity? Death? He was taking the coward's way out. How long was it before he realized how low he had sank?
He countered a slash aimed at his neck pushed the phantom of his King away.
He would find his atonement, but not like this. Enough was enough; he was tired of running away. It was time to face his past but first, he had to find his King. To do that though, he had a fight to win.
And in his hands his sword did not seem as heavy as it had been since the day he fell in love with Guinevere.
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Things were not boding well, not at all.
How long was it since the fight began against these monstrosities?
How many of their identity did they lose as they fought beside Rider in this fight?
The answer is many, and many more were joining the ranks of the dead as the battle waged on. The situation became dire enough that Iskander had been forced to use his greatest treasure, or so he claimed.
Ionian Hetairoi: The Golden Army of the King.
It was reality marble that allowed Iskander to summon his army to fight by his side once more. It had been a long time in their shared existence where they able to see such splendor and loyalty to a single man.
Yet, despite the reinforcement, the creatures would not die. No matter what damage they inflicted, these creatures would somehow recover. Vaporized limbs would re-grow, holes in their bodies would mend, and even decapitated their bodies would eventually return to their original states.
It seemed this was a battle not even Servants would be able to pull off a victory with strength. Yet, Rider kept on charging ahead with his men. His determination never faltering as he shouted his infamous war cry to the heavens above the sandy dessert they were in.
Truly, the man was probably as mad as the legends claimed. But they couldn't help but admire his courage and strength to continue when even some of them stopped attacking due to the overwhelming loss of their numbers and combination of fatigue.
They could see the outcome of this fight already. They were no fool. And given the tactical prowess the self-proclaimed King of Conquerors handled his soldiers and given orders throughout the battle, he doubted that Iskander did not see it as well.
There would be no end where they would emerge victorious. This fight was a fight doomed for failure. However, the main objective could still be achieved. The slaying of Caster was tantamount.
Already, and idea began to form in their minds. They did not share a telepathic link, but they had been once a single entity, a single person, and though different, they each held a part of the original, and it was that part that allowed to all reach the same line of though, and of course, the same conclusion.
Those that remained began to group together while one of them, the only female aspect that made up this Hassan-i-Sabbah, reached the Iskander as he took a moment to recover.
"Rider." She said as he reached the King. Rider turned to her to regard her call. "Call back your troops and release your Noble Phantasm."
Incredulity passed over his pass for but a moment and he wordlessly asked her continue in her elaboration. "Our objective is to slay Caster. It would be wise for one of the strongest of Servants of our team to try and achieve this goal. You need to try and reach the others and defeat Caster. Leave these creatures to us."
Rider stared at her for a few moments. "Do you understand what you are saying?" He asked solemnly. They both knew, there would be no walking away from this. She nodded.
"I do, we all do." She replied. "We will try to buy as much time as we can for you. Try to find the others and defeat Caster. That is the mission."
Iskander nodded. "Such professionalism is something to be admired. I would have gladly offered you a place in my army." He added the last part with a smile.
She chuckled a little. "Perhaps." She said.
Already the dessert began to disperse and the arid heat that they had felt had begun to fade. It was time. The giants were being dropped together as a group a few meters away in front of them.
Stepping off from the platform she had climbed upon earlier she and her others began stood united. A mere twenty left from the formidable group they were before.
Rider turned his chariot in the opposite direction. The bulls were already showing fatigue but following their rider's order without hesitation.
"Good Luck Assassin." Rider said. "I hope we will have a chance to meet each other again, in this life, or the next. I will tell the others of your bravery and your honor."
"There is nothing to tell Rider." One said.
"We are Assassin." A second continued.
"We live in the shadows." A third took over.
"We die in the shadows." A fourth added.
"Our existence silenced." A fifth concluded.
"Then let the silence sing your legend Servant of the Shadows." Rider said, and with a whip of his reigns, and with the braying of his bulls, he left.
The creatures were starting to come closer now. This would be their last act in this war, but they would face it head-on for they never shirked or shied away from the duty. This was undeniable and this was the answer they wanted to give Archer.
They were professionals after all.
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Just who was Kotomine Kirei?
It was a question that would plague his mind from time to time?
Was he a man that felt no emotion at all, a husk of a human being?
Or was he parasite brought to this earth whose only goal was see others in pain?
These thought swirled in his mind now as he looked at the lifeless corpse of his wife, Claudia. On her neck were bruises that had just freshly formed due to the pressure he applied personally.
The apparition of his wife kept approaching him as he moved through the mist; she said she missed him, that she loved him, and that she wanted to be there for him, now more than ever.
The apparition that took his wife's form had moved close enough for him to reach out and choke her. He felt a little satisfied that the annoyance was gone. Oddly though, the rush knew he would have felt before when surprise and terror had adorned the replica's face as she struggled to avoid her demise was nowhere to be felt.
What did that mean?
Sighing at the mystery of his own self he gave a silent prayer to his wife in memory before continued onwards in this mist.
After being attacked by that strange shadow he had found himself in the streets of a deserted Fuyuki. It was no doubt an illusion created by the maniacal Servant of spells. Still he continued forards, his senses alert but his mind once more looking inward to process himself more.
Just what was he becoming now?
So once again, the question was asked, who is Kotomine Kirei?
Kirei soon came to a fork in the street, both paths leading deeper into the mist, into the unknown, the oblivion; both paths looking so similar to each other.
He was no longer a man who found joy a sin.
The scraping of metal on concrete began to sing. The scent of blood and disease began to waft.-
He was no longer a man who wanted to cause sorrow or despair.
The heavy thud of boots, the raspy breathing, the clinking of chains in a steady and rhythmic beat, rose from the depths of the fog.-
He was changing again. He was changing into something different, something unfamiliar, yet distinct from what he once was.
Kirei looked as two large figures walked out from the shadows into the fork he stood in.
The two were both equally tall, taller than him by a large margin. One wore rusty triangle with sharp angles on its head. The strange headwear sat on its shoulder blocked the view of its chest. If anything could be discerned from its muscled arms, there was no doubt this man-creature had extraordinary strength.
It also wore a sleeveless white robe, rubber gloves and boots adorned it appendages with each article of clothing apparently splattered with dried and/or wet spots of red liquid all around. Being dragged behind it seemed to be an enlarged knife, its blade serrated and rusty.
On the other hand, the other large one was obscured in a heavy black rain coat. It's face also hidden by a gas mask. It too wore rubber gloves and boots, but the main differences was the weapon it carried in its hands –a large sledgehammer which looked more like a cinder-block attached to a long pipe-.
The two stood impassively in front of the street they had originated from, and as one they each raised a hand in offering towards Kirei.
The executor looked at both.
Was there ever a choice for him?
Was he ever human in the first place?
Or was he like these monsters meant to destroy or kill?
Was his mind and heart like this mist filled city, alone and empty with no purpose whatsoever?
"Then change yourself."
Words came back from his memory. A time he spent with the strange Archer. And with it he remembered what it was like to question his identity and the answers he sought along the way.
Maybe this was the culmination of everything he wanted to know and understanding. The issue could be danced around any further, his choice was made.
He couldn't help but chuckle a little at the situation he himself would find humorous for reasons that could not be merely understood.
His choice was before him.
He relaxed his body, shifted his stance, took a deep breath and prepared himself. As he did the creatures took back their offered hands, and they now gripped their weapons and readied themselves as well.
Kirei chose neither.
It was time to forge a new path, one that he would follow shouldering all that he was and all that he was going to be. For this was what he wanted and what he decided.
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A/N:
Alright, so I am probably going to catch a lot of flak for the rather sub-par fight I made with Homura and Kiritsugu. I really wracked my brains around what to do there and it was the hardest thing for me to do. I wanted to pay homage to both characters and at the same time, I didn't want it to be a total beat down of one character.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I also want to apologize for the long time between updates but I usually get writer's block, mixed with laziness and real life responsibilities.
You also may have noticed some cameos of certain fictional creations so kudos to those that figure it out. There is one OC monster though, kind of easy to tell which.
The Caster arc may be expanded more than I thought and I already have a couple ideas of the events that will occur after this cluster bomb has passed.
Again, read and review and I will plug away as soon as I can (Now goes to try and chip away at Writer's Boulder).
Dminion signing off…
