[Somewhere in Germany] - [?]

A rumble shook the whole foundation of the white castle.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!"

An echoed roared through the blood-soaked corridor.

Without uttering a word, a male homunculus wielding a halberd crashed into a wall. Another coat of blood painted the wall as his corpse slide down, creating a deeper pool of blood.

Despite seeing the result of fighting against the incoming threat, the army of homunculus didn't bat an eye as they rushed forth, all acting as cannon fodder in order to stall for more time.

They are tools, created to serve. Their expression, whether it be male or female, were all emotionless.

Their weapon harmlessly bounced off the monster blackened skin. Similarly, their magic fizzles to nothingness, with the most powerful only pushed him back a few centimeters. Their head ripped clean off by the giant hands as his ax-sword cleaved the army into mush blood and gore.

Standing behind the scene was a little girl with long white hair, and dressed in a tattered, dirty piece of cloth. It was cold, despite that, she felt nothing as her small, blood-soaked feet slowly followed the blacken giant, careful not to slip on any of the chunks of flesh and organ -which there are many.

She was silent. Her crimson eyes were unblinking as she took in the view. In what feels like a bug on her face, she brought her hand upward in order to swat it, but there was no bug. Instead, she was… smiling.

...

"A Servant… How did she summon it without any instruction, materials for the ritual, or the assistance of the grail?" Muttered a white-bearded old man as he watches them from his workshop.

Jubstaheit von Einzbern, the head of the Einzbern clan for over two hundred years, commanded more homunculus to stall for the completion of his teleportation ritual. He was a golem, created to contain all the knowledge of the long-dead human mages of the Einzbern.

He was the last remaining keeper of knowledge after the attack of Kiritsugu Emiya. He feared that this knowledge would be lost forever.

It was part of his instruction -one which he can't disobey- to never write down the knowledge and only passed down to the next Einzbern head.

Just like his creator, he wishes to obtain the Third Magic, but after multiple defeats, he turned to a better alternative.

Chloe von Einzbern, a true miracle child. From her birth to her current existence, everything about her was a miracle. It wasn't a complete surprise to him that she was able to summon a Servant and a Berserker at that, quite fitting.

A miracle for her and another loss for him.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!"

A dreadful roar from the end of the corridor shattered the glass orb in his hand. As it seems another miracle for her. Without that glass orb, the ritual was ruin. He was unable to escape.

As he accepted his inevitable death, an ax-sword tore through his workshop and crashed into his side, ripping his semi-inorganic body apart and flinging him into a wall.

Without a grunt, he stared at the approaching figure. She was smiling, a rare sight indeed.

It may not be by his hand, but the Third Magic will be claimed by the Einzbern once again. He couldn't help it but inwardly smiles at that prospect. Chantlessly, he passed her the title of the Einzbern head along with the immense knowledge that came with it.

A large weight on his crumbling shoulder was lifted that moment.

"Agh!" Chloe dropped to her knees as she clutched her head in immense pain. "Berserker!" She commanded.

On his normally expressionless face, a faint trace of a smile. For her, it was long sought after freedom after 10 years of suffering from the moment she realized her existence. For him, it was 10 years of interesting experiment with no conclusive result on obtaining the Third Magic.

He applauded her for being capable of maintaining his will, most wouldn't, especially a homunculus. He was undoubtedly evil, but the end justifies the means, especially when it's the only purpose that remains of your creation.

'Chloe von Einzbern. Succeed where I have failed. Obtain the Third Magic,' he telepathically communicated. It would likely be ignored, but his message was clear.

In a split second, an ax-sword crashed in him once again, destroying his body until it was nothing more than stardust.


[Mirrored District 7] - [July 13]

"Let me go you witch!" Dressed as a pink magical girl, Chloe loudly yelled as she pushed against the drooling and nosebleed face of Caster.

"So cute!" Caster gushed as she took multiple shots using her camera, all having Chloe in extremely cute poses -force via her magic, of course.

"You hear me, witch! I will kill you!" Chloe threatened, but differ from her words, she got into the mood and smiled for the camera, even winking at it.

At this sight, Caster collapsed on the ground and fainted, all while muttering "cute is justice" repeatedly and drowning in a small pool of her blood.

Berserker sat across from Souichirou, looked at the scene with a light smile as he took a sip of his tea. The teacup was minuscule in his large hand and the sip barely refreshed his throat, but nevertheless, it was good.

Their smile… Considering what they both have gone through in their life, short and long, he was honestly glad that they were smiling. It was something he must protect at all cost, no matter what.

"Caster, what is the next plan?" Souichirou asked in his emotionless voice.

Berserker turns his gaze toward the man. Even with all his years of experience, he can't see past the emotionless mask that Souichirou projected. Was it even a mask or was it his true self? Perhaps, both were true.

"We'll capture another Servant, Blue Saber preferably," said Caster, slowly lifting herself up from the floor.

At her words, Chloe couldn't help it but inwardly smile as she stood in silence -still stuck in her pose.

"Maintaining three Servant is mana intensive. Are you sure about this?" Souichirou asked, staring directly into her eye.

For unknown reason, Caster blushed intensely before replying, "No worry, I have already tapped into the leyline, maintaining an army wouldn't be a problem."

True to her words, an army of dragon tooth warriors surrounded their base, while most were scattered throughout the city, acting as Caster's eye and ear.

Souichirou only nodded in response before taking a sip of his tea.

Berserker did the same but accidentally shattered his teacup instead.


Shirou had figured it all out.

This grand puzzle of a story involving Kiritsugu, Saber, Chloe and himself.

Kiritsugu was hired by the Einzbern for his skill and ordered to compete in the 24th Holy Grail War the Einzbern place. Since the war chose its competitor at random, the Einzbern must have done something to cheated this and inadvertently corrupted it.

Due to his involvement with the Einzbern, Kiritsugu meets Iri, they fall in love and eventually gave birth to Chloe and Illya. Chloe "died" but through a miracle, she was revived. The Einzbern in their pursuit of this "Third Magic" hide her away in order to experiment on her.

Kiritgusu, Iri, and Maiya entered the war and summoned Saber using Avalon. By the end of the war, Saber was forced to destroy the Grail after Kiritsugu found that it was corrupted. This cause the Fuyuki fire.

At this point, Shirou balled his fist at those suppressed memories. Those screams, all in agony, all calling for help. It was ingrained within the fiber of his memories as he walked past them. They all died, while he gets to live… But all of that was nothing compared to what Chloe had experienced.

Kiritsugu saved him by giving him "Avalon", and in turn, adopted him. Later, he and Iri return to the Einzbern to report on their results. The Einzbern seeing the destruction of the Grail as a sign of betrayal tried to kill them, and in retaliation, Kiritsugu slaughtered them (or something along that line). In the chaotic battle, Kiritsugu shoots Chloe, and from her perspective, it was a sign of betrayal and abandonment.

But that wouldn't make sense, from what he remembered ten years ago, Illya was still an infant at the time. If so, wouldn't Chloe also be an infant at that time?

Homunculus… From what he knew of cloning technology through his time within the Dark Side, it was accelerated growth, magical accelerated growth if he were to guess.

Through circumstances or the corrupted grail manipulation, he was forcefully entered into the 25th Holy Grail War along with his distant twin little sister who hated his gut who escaped from the Einzbern glutched. He may have stabbed her in the heart, but he can still fix all of this. He knows he can… he has to.

Interrupting his thought, something brushed against his bandaged and muscular body.

"Saber, what are you doing?" He asked, lifting the blanket away and revealing Saber's petite figure pressing against his arm.

"Heed me no attention, Shirou. Please, continue your rest," she replied as a tint of red surfaced on her cheeks.

"B-but, you're…" he stammered, his cheek was burning. "You can't Saber, a man and women shouldn't…"

Saber tilted her head, confused at her master reaction. "Avalon works more efficiently if I were closer to it. I apologize for intruding into your personal space."

"B-but…" he tried, but he stopped himself. It was clear that Saber was going out of her comfort in order to help him, especially after seeing how desperate and pathetic he was. When he recovered enough, he'll prepare a meal to die for.

"Thank you, Saber," he let out a relaxed smile.

"You're welcome, Shirou," she muttered in response, averting her eyes as she hid her face and hugged his side.

'Her honor as a knight…' he thought. As a warrior, a knight and a king, she must be feeling extremely shameful at what she is forcing herself to do. He made up his mind, an above average meal wouldn't be enough for him to apologize.

At his conviction, a sharp spike of heat brushed at his side, but he chalked it up to Avalon healing his kidney.

It feels nice, perhaps he should take a nap…

His eyes closed to his desire.


"You know, I don't like the sand. It's coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere," a voice spoke behind him.

He was here again… this endless plain of swords.

"Yet, here I'm… waiting…" the voice spoke again.

For unknown reasons, he doesn't want to turn behind him. Instead, he chose to walk toward a familiar blade.

Muramasa… the blade that he had seen in a historical documentary. His younger self thought it looked cool, so he tried to imagine himself as a blacksmith forging it. Little did he know, his imagination manifested itself into reality and stabbed a few inches into the floor. Sella yelled at him for that. Those were good times…

He clutched the blade, once again, the familiar sensation brushed in his palm as if it belonged to him.

However, this blade was different. It was more real… in a strange, undefined way. Muramasa's katana was rare, but not extremely special. The one he projected countless times before processed the history of being forged by the legendary blacksmith, but nothing else except the skills of another random swordsman who wield it in the past.

This katana was wielded by Sengo Muramasa himself. His skills, his life, everything… he could see it all. But why was it here?

A strange whisper scratched the back of his mind. It wants something, he couldn't make out its word due to its rough voice. Before he was able to listen to it again, the sword slipped from his hand and sank into the sand.

"Our hands will never hold onto anything…" the voice once again spoke his cryptic one-liner.

He doesn't know why, but he doesn't want to listen to it. He wants to reject it even when he doesn't truly understand it.

He decided to walk away from the voice...

For hours on end, he walked… all he saw were sand and swords, but not the golden sword he saw before.

"These swords… they look like graves. Don't they?" the voice suddenly asked.

He only nodded at those words, but never stopped his sluggish footsteps.

"You should rest. Another grave wouldn't make this place any prettier," the voice mocked.

Eventually, he collapsed as his legs gave out. Laying on the sand, he stared at the dusty sky and floating, rusty gears.

"People die when they are killed," the voice seemed rather irritated at those words. "But we… we only suffer."

He was tired, and a simple question crossed his mind.

"Who are you?" He asked. In response to his word, a small sandstorm swirled around him. Lifting his head up, he saw a blurred figure cloaked in red.

"I'm…"

"...the bone of my sword."

At those words, Shirou was impaled by a sword that seemingly came from within his body. His body turn gagged as more started impaling him. His blood ignited in a blaze as it dripped into the sand, turning it into glass.

He became another sword. One that stood perfectly still within this desolate plain. One that eventually rusted away to dust.


Shirou's eyes snapped open as he immediately patted his body. It hurt as he did so, but he was fine.

Another dream, but what does it mean?

When this is all done -if he survives all of this. He might need to go to therapy, he might need it.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned his gaze toward the orange afternoon sky. He had been asleep for a while. How is Judgment doing with him temporarily missing? How is Illya doing? Having a normal life unlike that of his older brother, he hoped. Don't worry, he will reunite their family together. He finds a way, he always does…

Hopefully, this time isn't going to be a lie.

"Shirou, feed me," Saber uttered in her sleep as she chopped down on his arm.

It hurt, but it was cute.

Removing his arm away from her, he projected a plush toy of a lion and lets her hug it instead.

He couldn't fall asleep again, but he felt a lot better than before.

Perhaps he should cook something. Life and its stresses were getting to him.


AN: A bit of a shorter chapter. Also, I got Raikou~. MHXA is still the best Berserker for me. Can't wait for Anastasia in a few years. I feel like I should start on that RWBY x Fate fanfic soon.