?

Berserker dwelled in a world of inky swirls, a fever dream of terror. Even in what seemed like a void, he felt the pressure of the black pushing against his armor. He looked forward to see his Master, Matou Kariya, clad in nothing but his own skin, his head lulled to the side as if barely conscious.

"What is this place?" he groaned weakly, not directly at Berserker. "Who are you?"

The Mad Dog found his anger boiling again, the void stirred with his rage, like a brewing storm. Beneath him, the darkness rumbled and the area around him grew hot.

"I am…" he growled out, remembering few words from his past life. "I am…"

He stepped forward, struggling against the pressure of the violent space of his own mad mind.

"I am...the alienated…the ridiculed...the despised."

Skulls and bones floated along in the black, as if bobbing down an inky black river around him. His burning red eyes bore into Kariya's deformed face.

"No need...to praise my name," Berserker continued, finding his voice, old and unused. "No need to envy my body. I am the shadow under the radiance of Heroic Spirits...Birthed of the darkness of a glorious legend…"

Kariya looked terrified. Good. The manifestations of Berserker's hatred slithered along like black snakes, coiling around his Master's body. Berserker reached out with his clawed gauntlet, holding back the urge to crush his Master's throat out of sheer instinct. Not his Master.

"And so," he growled, "I hate. I resent, nourished by the sighs of people precipitated within the darkness. Those who curse the light…" His gauntlet closed around Kariya's throat; he couldn't help it. "This is my disgrace, Master. Because of her unsullied glory, her filthy facade and treachery. I must forever be belittled. Cursed!"

He heard the sickening crack from his helmet.

"You are the sacrifice…"

Kariya screamed in agony as the Black Knight's claws dug into his throat, drawing blood. It trickled over his armor, filling in the intricate engravings, seeping up his hand.

"Give me more!" Berserker roared. "More of your blood, your flesh, your life. Ignite my hatred!"

Even with Berserker's hand around his throat, his Master still managed to cry out one weak order.

"STOP!"

Uruk

Arturia leaned on the balcony that led from Gilgamesh's chambers. The city below echoed with music, but all of it somber, sad. Occasionally, she would make out an individual crying. She looked out onto the bright yellows and oranges, all the warm colors of this land, yet they contrasted with such cold emotion. It bothered her.

"Why is everyone grieving?" she said with a slight frown, looking to where Gilgamesh filled his cup with wine beside the bed. The Babylonian king glanced at her as he raised the cup to his lips.

"They're…" He winced. "They're not grieving per say. The first, second, and third day of Akitu are always the somber ones." He picked up a second cup and joined her at the balcony. "The priests of Ésagila," he pointed down towards one particular temple where the music was particularly loud. "They lead these sad prayers for fear of the unknown."

Arturia's brow furrowed down at the temple. Even from afar, it was grand in scale, decorated with gold and red ornaments and fabrics. A strong smell of incense wafted in the air.

"Do they not have faith in…" She trailed off, glancing at him for help. He grinned gently at her and handed her a filled cup of wine.

"Marduk is the god they pray to now," he said, and then took a sip from his cup. "Akitu is dedicated entirely to his victory over Tiamat, the goddess of the oceans." He glanced at her. "Both beautiful and chaotic."

"What is...Marduk's domain?"

"He is Babylon's patron deity," said Gilgamesh, leaning against the balcony. "The high priests beg for Marduk's forgiveness, begging him to once again favor the city."

He looked out over his city, his eyes scanning far. Arturia watched him carefully, noting his demeanor, his stance. He was relaxed, not tall or proud.

"The first time I heard your 'Lord's Prayer', it reminded me much of 'The Secret of Ésagila," he continued, his tone shifting to that of a recitation. ""Lord without peer in thy wrath, Lord, gracious king, lord of the lands, Who made salvation for the great gods…"

Arturia listened quietly, mesmerized as he recited the prayer. She watched his crimson eyes stare off into the distance, hooded in remembrance of this prayer, no doubt ingrained into his memory. Arturia was certain it was a prayer he probably held no earnest feelings towards, but still she listened.

"...Lord, who throwest down the strong by his glance, Lord of kings, light of men, who dost apportion destinies, O Lord, Babylon is thy seat, Borsippa thy crown The wide heavens are thy body…" He paused and looked at her, drawn from his trance like state. "...what?"

She felt her cheeks burn with color. She'd been staring.

"Don't stop," she said, feeling flustered. "I want to hear the rest."

Gilgamesh's lips cracked into a grin at her, and instead of facing the city, he turned and leaned his arm against the balcony, giving her his full attention.

"Within thine arms thou takest the strong... Within thy glance thou grantest them grace, Makest them see light so that they proclaim thy power. Lord of the lands, light of the Igigi, who pronnouncest blessings; Who would not proclaim thy, yea, thy power? Would not speak of thy majesty, praise thy dominion?"

Arturia felt hypnotized by this strange pagan religion. So long ago, she'd have turned up her nose to it and damned it. But after all she'd seen even in her own land, she knew there had to be more to it. There had to be something about the strange religion that she never noticed, something she overlooked. While she remained loyal to her Lord and Savior, her curiosity got the better of her. She watched the Babylonian king's lips move, taking in every movement, every sound.

"Lord of the lands, who livest in Eudul, who takest the fallen by the hand; Have pity upon thy city, Babylon Turn thy face towards Ésagila, thy temple Give freedom to them that dwell in Babylon, thy wards…" He trailed off and looked into his empty cup. "You'll be hearing these somber songs and woeful prayers for one more day." He looked back out onto the city, a soft smile on his face. "Though I never met Marduk, I never felt as if he needed our prayers. If we deserved his forgiveness and protection, we would receive it. And thus far, we have." He reached for the pitcher to refill his cup.

Arturia drank her wine and closed her eyes to listen to the music below. It was beautiful and heartbreaking, much like the hymns that rang from the monasteries back in Britannia. They weren't so different after all, both people begging forgiveness and praising their god's mercy and love.

As she kept her eyes closed, she felt a gentle touch under her chin that tilted her face upward. She opened her eyes to see Gilgamesh had closed the distance between them, holding her gaze to his.

"Will you let me show you the city?" he said, his expression returning to one of pride. But it was a different form of pride.

"Your request is unlike you, Gilgamesh," said Arturia, watching his eyes as they flickered down to her lips. He grinned and moved his hand away.

"I simply want to display my wealth," he smirked, gesturing to the golden city. "My legacy."

Arturia gave him a look. She usually saw a king's legacy as it reflected in his heir, something she realized that had never occurred to her about Gilgamesh. He was not married, yet had bedded many women. Surely there were children, illegitimate as they were.

Arturia shook the thought from her mind and placed the cup on the balcony.

"Then I would love to see it," she said, matching his confidence. Gilgamesh smiled down at her and then moved from the balcony, taking her hand. He pulled her out of the view of the city and back into the privacy of his own chambers, drawing her close. One hand snaked further down her back as the other held her wrist firmly. She raised a brow at him.

"Surely you don't mean to show me your bed again," she challenged. Gilgamesh's grin grew rather wicked, and before she could react, he hefted her up and tossed her onto the pile of pillows and blankets. She tried not to shout, a rather unbecoming squeal staunched in the back of her throat that came out as little more than a hiccup. Gilgamesh laughed and crawled over her.

"But isn't it one of my greatest conquests?" he said, leaning down and breathing against her neck. Arturia sighed and leaned her head back.

"I'm afraid I have little to compare it to," she said, running a hand through his hair. "I feel the judgment is unfairly balanced."

Gilgamesh pulled back with a smirk. He dramatically sighed and sat up, though still straddling her.

"Oh very well," he said oh-so-woefully. "If you've grown tired of me already, I suppose there's plenty of brothels-ow!"

He grimaced as Arturia reached up and tugged on his hair, pulling him down and to her side, effectively escaping him. She turned the tables, throwing one leg over him and pressing her hands to his chest. Gilgamesh stared wide-eyed up at her, still surprised at her ferocity. Arturia leaned down and grazed her lips to his before her next words came out with barely a whisper.

"Show me the city."

Tohsaka Mansion

Archer watched in silence as his Master interacted with his child, his first born, a girl of fiery disposition, Rin Tohsaka. In a way, the Servant admired her for her restless heart. She was by no means an elegant girl, but she held her head high, emulating her father's tall posture. Tokiomi looked down at his daughter before she went off to bed, marking the time in which battle plans could be made without fear of interruptions. Were Rin to awaken, she would go to her mother.

Gilgamesh's gaze lingered on the small girl with a strangeness, his eyes stuck on the space she disappeared from up the stairs. This still look did not go unnoticed by his Master.

"Something about my daughter strike you, Archer?" he asked, closing the doors to his study. Gilgamesh blinked and returned his gaze to his Master.

"Hm...not particularly," he lied. "Just observing the actions of the child imitate the parent's."

Tokiomi perked a brow.

"The greatest form of admiration, some say." He went behind his desk and set his cane at the head of it. "It's hard to understand if you've never had a child."

Gilgamesh visibly winced, but before Tokiomi could question that, a surge of mana in the area of the Mansion crawled across his skin like a sixth sense.

"A Servant is here." He stood up straight, his golden armor materializing in an elegant bright mist that curled across his body; he stood up straight. "It's...I think it's Saber."

Tokiomi narrowed his void eyes at his Servant.

"Do you sense her Master?"

"...No." Gilgamesh winced again, but disappeared in a flash, appearing atop the roof. He looked down onto the gates that opened onto the road.

She seemed to give off her own light, a glow that needed no lanterns or torches. Blue, yet warm. And...sad. He watched with his supernatural gaze, all the muscles of her face twitch in conflict, confusion, and perhaps...desperation? Saber looked up at him and held her invisible blade aloft, but horizontal, as if offering it to him. What was this?

"Archer!" she called out, her voice breaking ever so slightly. His heart nearly broke just from that hint of suffering, but he listened in silence, keeping his proud stance, not yielding, in case she was using his feelings against him. She continued, "I demand a truce!"

Her armor shattered into a thousand silver lights and Excalibur's windy outlined disappeared. There was no hiding Gilgamesh's surprise. He vanished from the roof, reappearing just a few steps away from her, clad in his simple white shirt and snakeskin pants. Gold jewelry still rang as he moved.

"You what?" he said. Saber made a face.

"Are you daft?" she said, her voice shaking. "I said I want a truce, a stalemate. A ceasefire-"

"Yes, yes I understand that," Gilgamesh stared at her hard. "Why?"

Saber stared at him hard. "The number of Servants remaining is dwindling. Caster is dead. Lancer is dead."

"What?"
"Lancer is dead!" Saber snapped, as if saying it louder would make more sense. Gilgamesh wasn't entirely surprised, considering the loss of the golden spear was practically the poor Servant's death sentence. But so soon?

"All that are left," Saber continued, "are the Three Families of the Beginning and Rider with his Master. We are at a pivotal point in this war." She clenched her fists at her sides. "And the closer we get, the more my headaches behind my eyes with dreams and visions of a life I don't remember living, of people I don't remember meeting." She paused, giving him a pointed look. "And yet you claim to remember it all."

Gilgamesh crossed his arms and stared hard at her.

"So you come to me to alleviate the frustration?" he couldn't help but laugh. "I certainly hope you're getting a sense of deja vu, my little king."

Saber winced and held her head. "And that, you say things, do things…" She stepped back. "Who was I to you?"

Gilgamesh was silent, letting her wallow in anticipation. He was going through hell, enduring the woman he loved look at him like the scum of the earth.

"The greatest treasure I never had," he said lowly, watching her eyes flash and then squeeze shut. She looked down.

"Archer!" Tokiomi called from a balcony. Gilgamesh cursed and turned back to face his Master. Tokiomi wouldn't dare challenge his actions, but he could certainly question them. He still had Command Seals, he could make him kill Saber then and there.

"She's called a truce," Gilgamesh called. "Her Master calls for a meeting at the Fuyuki Church under the circumstances of those left in the war." He paused. "Lancer is dead."

Tokiomi narrowed his eyes, albeit briefly, at Gilgamesh.

"So few left," the Master said so quietly, it's likely Saber might not have heard him, but Archer did.

"I imagine Kotomine Kirei is now the mediator since Father Risei's passing." Gilgamesh cocked his head ever so slightly upward at his Master. "Perhaps it would be beneficial to honor this truce and discuss the elimination of the Servant that does not belong to one of the Three Families."

Tokiomi was quiet, and then said, "Very well, rouse Kirei. If the Einzberns want a meeting, they shall have it tonight."

Gilgamesh looked back down to Arturia, his expression softening. "As they discuss their Masters' conflict, we shall discuss ours. Does that sound civil to you, lioness?"

To his surprise, Arturia visually relaxed, yet still bore a look of pain. "Yes."