Fate: Zero Sanity

by X the Reaper

The Fourth Holy Grail War has begun. However, Angra Mainyu has decided to replace some of the Servants with more... interesting characters. Now, Servants, old and new, must battle for the Grail in a war unlike no other. Perhaps, for some, fate can be changed. Inspired by The Infamous Man's Fate: Zero Sense. (Now with its own page on TvTropes!)

26. Recalling Memories & Tying Up Loose Ends

Welcome, my viewers. This is X the Reaper, bringing you the final installment of Fate: Zero Sanity.

Soul: It's been a good run, but we can't get sentimental just yet. Still have a chapter to get out.

You're right. Time for the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night and all series mentioned in this story are the property of their respective owners. Also, thanks to The Infamous Man for inspiring the idea behind the fic, Sentinel07 for inspiring X to write in the first place, and finally, to EVA-Saiyajin for agreeing to help beta some of the chapters. X the Reaper owns nothing.

Avenger: We hope you all enjoy.

Note:

Normal Print means current events

Italics represent past events

---

Fuyuki City, Civic Center Ruins (Daytime)

Two figures, their bodies wrapped in dark coats and hats, walked through the shattered, blacken remains of the location of the Holy Grail, silently observing the carnage. The entire area was but a twisted mockery of what it had been just yesterday, the once beautiful landscape and buildings reduced to rubble and blacken fields.

Apparently, a great fire had sprung up overnight around the area, consuming the district and hundreds of innocent people. Survivors were scarce and the hospitals were filled up mostly with the brave men and women who had rushed to rescue the victims, only to be caught in the blaze themselves.

People were already calling it the worst disaster that had ever plagued Fuyuki since WWII.

Worst of all was the smell that still blanketed the area, even after the smoke had long since vanished. The stench of burning flesh.

"Goddamnit," one of the two muttered, his cigarette unlit in his mouth.

"Don't blasphemy in my presence, Earl," the other muttered in turn, though his heart didn't seem into it. A glint of a metal cross was seen as he shifted slightly. "I'll forgive you this once because it's rather appropriate here."

"Sorry Father," the other replied, then looked out towards the field. "It's just been a long time since I've seen carnage on this level."

The priest nodded, then turned his attention to the very center of the building. "Well, we're almost there. Let's get this over with."

His companion nodded, following after him. After another minute or so, they came upon their destination.

In front of them was a ruined theatre room, the majority of the floor in front of the stage destroyed, collapsed into the basement below them. The stage itself was cut clean in half as if by a giant sword, the halves burned and covered in ash.

The last resting place of the Holy Grail.

"You sniff anything out?" The priest asked. "Any signs of anyone getting out alive?"

"Nothing," Earl grumbled, "It's all jumbled by the smell of burning."

The priest said nothing, then pulled out his cross and knelt, his mouth muttering a prayer for the lost. Earl was respectfully silent, dropping and crushing his cigarette to pieces with his shoe.

After the Father stood up, his prayer done, Earl's cellphone rang, the tune of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame", a clear contrast to their surroundings, playing loudly.

"I hate that ringtone."

"Shut up Anderson." Taking it out, Earl glanced at the caller's name. "Well, you've got good timing, Starrk."

Answering the phone, he waited for his caller to say something, then responded. "Yeah? Nah, couldn't find any trace. Sorry, but the smell is too jumbled here." He was silent for a few moments as he listened to Starrk. "You're sure?" He waited, his eyes narrowing. "Well, I'll get right to it."

Turning, he threw the phone to Anderson, who caught it. "It's for you."

Anderson lifted the phone to his ear. "Yes?" He was silent, his eyes briefly widening in shock, then narrowing dangerously. "Well, in that case, I'll be happy to come with you. You got the location?" He listened for a moment more, then nodded. "Got it. On my way."

He cut off the call, throwing the phone back to Earl. "I've got some business to take care of with Starrk."

"I know," Earl replied as he grabbed the phone. "and I'm heading back to the hospital. Edgar wants me to see one of the survivors, say what I think of him."

"A new recruit?"

Earl turned around and started to walk away. "A future one, I think would be the proper term."

Anderson didn't follow him. Instead, he pulled out a Bible, the pages ripping out and surrounding him with a bright golden light. "Did he give a name?"

Before the pages completely obscured him, he just caught Earl's next words. "Someone named 'Emiya'."

Earl felt a gust of wind behind him, only glancing briefly behind himself to catch sight of a whirling mass of paper heading towards the city. Turning back around, he began a lonely trek back to their car, parked just at the edge of the field.

He sighed to himself. "What the hell could have caused all of this?"

Fuyuki Civic Center (Last Night)

'What could you have learned about me?' Saber thought as her face shifted to quiet acceptance, feeling Soul's blade through her heart as it was pulled back out, her blood falling to cover the front of her dress. 'By issuing those two measly orders?'

Her head turned as she fell to her knees, Excalibur falling from nerveless hands as a wave of gold headed towards her, most likely the backlash from the Grail's destruction. She looked at Berserker's tear-stained face, the Servant's eyes begging for forgiveness as she jumped away. She allowed that image to sear itself into her mind as she shut her own eyes, Berserker's sobs, Soul's yells, and the rumble of the backlash fading from her hearing.

She once again saw herself on top of the hill of swords, covered in the bodies of both her soldier's and Mordred's. She was kneeling at the top, the expression of a shell shocked soldier upon her face and using Excalibur as a support. She saw Mordred's unmasked form lying next to her, the tears and blood still fresh upon her young face. She saw her knights when the Round Table had been at its greatest: Sirs Lancelot, Gawain, Percival, Bedivere and all the others happy while she looked on as the emotionless king.

'I never even knew my own comrades...'

She remembered Rider's words at the banquet, his accusing eyes and those of the other Servants who had looked down at her wish.

'Perhaps this is my punishment for being the King who could not understand others...' Saber felt the heat from the energy, knowing it was but a millisecond from being upon her. Berserker need not have stabbed her in the end after all, she was as good as dead anyways.

However, unlike a million other timelines when she would have accepted her fate with no small amount of regret and grief, she then remembered the promise of Berserker and Soul, and all the times they spent together. In a flash, she recalled all the laughs, as small as they were, the talks, the motorcycle tips, and the comforting they had given her. She once again saw the pleading look in Berserker's eyes as she removed her weapon from its fatal blow, asking for forgiveness.

Most of all, she remembered what they had ultimately decided to call her, and she them.

"We will never abandon you." Soul had said. "I promise."

'...Thank you, my friends.' A single tear, unseen by any of the other occupants of the room, flowed from her right eye. 'I forgive you both. Goodbye...'

The power then hit her, disintegrating her body instantly.

And so Saber, known in life as Arturia Pendragon, King of Britain and leader of the Knights of the Round Table, died in a brilliant flash of light.

"GAH!" Berserker screamed as the section of the floor she had landed on fell into the basement, just barely avoiding a landing on her face and instead on her back, still weak from Kariya's fading strength. Still, she managed to jump back as more and more of the theatre floor started to fall, particularly around the area where Saber had stood...

'Don't think about it,' she thought to herself as she quickly wiped her eyes, then looked at her partner. "Are you alright, Soul?"

"Yeah," his reply was short and somewhat terse. She didn't have to guess why. "What about Kariya?"

Before she could attempt to establish a connection with her Master, she suddenly felt a familiar feeling overtake her, that of her Master reestablishing connections.

'Ber-Berserker,' she just barely heard Kariya whisper, his voice becoming more and more ragged. 'Wh-What... happened?'

'I...I killed Saber,' she responded, doing her best to keep the grief out of the connection. She knew that she would have to kill Saber, but she had wanted it as a fair fight, both fighting on equal ground and at least with the ability to fight back. To have killed her while she had been helpless, unable to move to defend herself from or even just dodge the killing blow, that had struck her deeply. 'But she was still able to destroy the Grail... it's gone, Kariya.'

She expected some form of anger or grief to suddenly flare up over on Kariya's end, some way to gauge his feeling at losing the only chance to save Sakura and himself. Instead, she felt... acceptance?

'I... see,' he panted, his voice somehow growing firmer while getting softer at the same time. 'I guess... this is it for us... isn't it?'

'Kariya, I'm-I'm so sorry. We failed you and-'

'No,' she heard him cut her off. 'You haven't failed, not yet... Sakura still has a chance...'

'What are you-!' Berserker stopped when she felt a familiar sense of power filling her, a Command Seal.

Kariya's last Command Seal.

'...It's too late for me...' Kariya muttered, '...but you both can still make a difference. Promise me... promise me that you'll both survive and save her... not as a Servant... but as a friend...'

Berserker and Soul were silent, then nodded their (Soul mentally) heads mutely. 'We will,' they said as one. 'We promise.'

They almost felt Kariya smile from his end of the link. 'Then... by the power of my final Command Seal, I order you, Berserker, to survive this War,... no matter what.'

Once more, power surged through Berserker's form, the weakness in her limbs leaving her, replaced with strength.

'Goodbye... Maka, Soul...' And with that, Kariya cut off their connection.

'Master? Master!'

...

Kariya watched as his last Command Seal faded away, his hand falling limply to his side as he did so. He was honestly surprised with himself. He had summoned one of the strongest Servant classes, remained strong through all of Berserker's power-ups, even when she had gone insane, fought to keep consciousness and alive while having a heart attack brought about by overexerting himself, and now was the only Master left with a Servant.

Well, 'about to be Masterless Servant' would be the soon-proper term. It looked like he had used up his remaining time all in this one fight.

"Heh," he muttered quietly to himself, "so much for being a 'failure', huh Zouken?"

The sound of an unlocking door distracted him. Turning his head, his good eye widened as he caught sight of Sakura, standing in the entrance to his room, just staring at him with eyes widening in horror, then returning to their usual sad, dead look. "Uncle Kariya..." she muttered, her voice as dead as before Berserker had brought some light into her world.

'Damn you, Zouken...' he thought angrily, 'You planned this, didn't you?'

Of course he had. No doubt this was Zouken's own cruel way of trying to show Sakura what would happen to those who went up against him, to break her even further and crush what glimmers of hope still remained in her soul.

Well, he was dying, that much was certain, but Kariya would be damned to deepest pit in Hell if he would let Zouken use him like that.

Summoning a strength he didn't even know he had, Kariya pushed himself onto his hands and knees, for standing up was beyond him, and crawled over to where Sakura just stood watching him. Then he did something he hadn't done in a long time.

Using all of his remaining and quickly fading strength, he wrapped Sakura in the tightest hug he could manage, feeling her stiffen under his grip.

"Stay strong, Sakura," he muttered quietly yet firmly into her ear, stroking her hair in a kindly fashion as he did so. "You will be happy someday, and I'm so sorry I wasn't the one who could give it to you..."

He felt rather than saw her eyes change, her expression growing from dead to confused, and he knew he had her attention.

"Don't hate Maka or Soul; they will help free you of this nightmare soon. And don't hate Rin, who knows nothing about this. Try to still see her as a sister, no matter what..." Kariya continued, speaking faster as he grew weaker, struggling to say all that needed to be said, "Tell Aoi-san, if you see her, that Kariya-Ojisan loved her very much..." He then slowly released his hug and smiled at her, putting as much warmth in it as possible. "...And I loved you, like the daughter I never had..."

Kariya's eyes then closed, and as his body fell to the floor, the last thing he saw was Sakura's face, no longer wearing that emotionless expression, but rather that of a strong young girl holding back tears.

'...And I'm so sorry for making you cry...'

And so Kariya Matou, former Master of Berserker, died.

From his watching place, Zouken's eyes narrowed in anger, gripping his cane tightly. "You're a fool Kariya," he spat. "No one is coming to help her."

...

While this was going on, Kiritsugu looked down with an annoyed expression. Even with the Grail's destruction, Berserker was still in this world, though for how long was anyone's guess. He knew he wouldn't be able to reach Kariya, so his only option was to simply get away and team up with Maiya...

Suddenly, a sense of dread overcame his entire body, almost forcing him to his knees with its intensity. A sudden urge of emotions erupted within him: Anger, fear, sadness, hatred, and a million other negative feelings passed through his mind, all almost hauntingly familiar...

Slowly, he looked upwards, a shocked gasp of fear escaping him. In the sky overhead was what looked like the moon, except pitch black and letting off red steam. "I-Impossible...!" Kiritsugu muttered in denial and shock as he gazed upon the 'heavenly body'. "S-Saber destroyed the Grail, your vessel, so how can you still exist Angra Mainyu!?"

To his horror, a familiar voice, tinged with amusement and anger, filled his mind.

You refused my offer to save the world, now reap your punishment.

Berserker and Soul stared in horror at the 'moon' above them, their hearing just barely allowing them to hear Kiritsugu's fearful declaration. "That's what I felt... in the Grail?" Berserker whispered in shock, unable to remove her eyes from the sight, feeling all of the negative emotions from before, only now unrestrained and uncovered.

"Maka!" Soul yelled, his voice breaking slightly as he felt what she did, but also understanding they couldn't stay here. "We need to go!"

Suddenly, the black 'moon' erupted, making red and black rain rain onto the Civic Center. Before the Servant of Madness could react, both she and Soul were already ankle-deep in the mud.

"MAKA!" Soul yelled, finally forcing her out of her stupor. "Go! NOW!"

That's exactly what she tried to do, but when she tried to raise her legs, they felt like they were submerged in wet cement. As she struggled, the mud level continued to rise, coming up to her knees in seven seconds and only rising even faster.

"Soul, I need you to go!" she yelled desperately, prepared to throw him onto a piece of rubble some distance away. To her shock, he suddenly felt like he weighed a ton.

"I'm not leaving you here!" he yelled back, his 'eye' swerving around to look at her. "We promised to save Sakura together, and that's what we're gonna do!"

She was about to argue, but abandoned it for two reasons. One, Soul had adopted that tone he only reserved for when he had absolutely no intentions of changing his mind. Not even a Maka Chop or five to the head would persuade him otherwise.

Two, the mud was now up to her elbows and would have made it incredibly awkward to throw him even if he hadn't decided to weigh a ton to enforce his point.

"Fine!" she yelled as the mud started rising even faster, reaching her armpits in about two seconds, "Let's do it!"

"Got it!"

Just before her head went under, she managed to get out her next (potentially final) words.

"SOUL RESONANCE!"

...

"T-This can't be happening!" Kiritsugu shouted as he raced out of the Civic Center, the mud slowly leaking out and spilling into the woods surrounding it. Luckily for him, he was able to get out of the building while the mud was still restricted to the basement. However, the volume of the mud was increasing dramatically, forcing its way through doors and windows with its weight, spreading like a wildfire and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Kirei Kotomine's words came back to him. 'To think that everything we sacrificed was for nothing... It really shows what fools we are.'

'And I was the greatest fool of all,' Kiritsugu thought bitterly. 'Was all our fighting only to just lead to this?' he wondered as he ran up a hill to get a better view of the damage done by the Grail's contents...

...only to see Fuyuki in flames, smoke rising into the air.

Kiritsugu stared like a man who has just seen the deepest horrors of his soul thrust upon him, only now a hundred-fold, feeling tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Like a man possessed, he rushed down towards the city, desperate to save someone, anyone from this hell of his doing.

If he didn't, then he had no idea what would happen to his soul.

Fuyuki Hospital (Sometime Earlier)

Waver Velvet and Sola-Ui sat outside the hospital room, the former's hands crossed in front of him and nervously fidgeting in his seat, while the later kept a strong poker face, only the slightest twitches to her hands showing her anxiety. Waver's head was down, his eyes unable to meet the person who sat across from him. Said person sighed and then spoke again, his voice calm, but just barely tinted with impatience.

"Look, I can understand that you're worried for your friends," the figure said again, "and I sympathize with you. But I also need you to be honest with me as to where you both were last night."

Waver finally gathered the courage to look the figure across from him in the eye, his own young brown eyes meet green and golden-brown ones as the two young men stared at each other. Waver was unnerved despite himself by the other's gaze. It was like staring into the eyes of someone who had seen Death itself.

Sola-Ui, however, was more experienced with such looks, and managed to respond, though slowly.

"I... I don't know what we can say, Mr. Silverstein..." she finally admitted. "What we and our friends were involved in can't exactly be talked about in public..."

"I am well aware of the War, Mr. Velvet, Ms. Sophia-Ri." The black-suited man responded, ignoring the later's look of surprise and the former's renewed fear. "And I promise you that no one else here does, unless they themselves were involved or came with me, or will. My assistant has made sure of it."

"I've placed a silencing spell on the entire hallway," a new voice spoke up from near them, sending a brief chill down two of the three occupant's spines. "And I've convinced anyone coming this way that they don't need to... for now."

The one who had spoke was a woman, a very beautiful one at that. She was tall with a very voluptuous figure, which showed even through her clothing, which consisted of a dark grey, two-piece business suit with a dark green necktie, black gloves and shoes. Her hair was a dark cerulean, which fell down to her waist unbound with any ties, and her skin was a light-brown.

It was her features that set her apart though. Her face had a sort of mischief and smugness to it, as if she was constantly trying to figure out the best way to beat you... or maybe seduce you too, depending on how you interpreted it. Her vibrant green eyes shone with trickery and craftiness, seeming to shift depending on her mood, along with something distinctly... unhuman.

For some reason, Waver thought of insects when he looked into them.

"Good work, Chryssie," Silverstein nodded to the woman, seemingly unaffected. "Keep an eye out regardless though."

She flashed him a smile, showing off teeth which seemed a little too sharp for normal people, then suddenly exploded into green flames. Waver and Sola-Ui watched in amazement as her body seemed to change shapes within the flames, her clothes morphing into something different.

When the flames died down, the admittedly sexy woman was gone, replaced by an older-looking glasses-wearing doctor in his forties wearing the typical hospital garb and carrying a clipboard. Still, Sola-Ui could see that behind the eyewear that the eyes, now a stormy blue, had the same look in them as before.

Silverstein sighed like this was an everyday occurrence. "Did you really have to scare the boy?"

He (She?) chuckled, the voice now that of a world-weary man's. "Sorry." With a wink, the transformed figure opened the door and walked back out.

Waver turned back to Silverstein, his mouth unashamedly open in shock. "Wha... How?"

"We're not normal people, my friends," the white-haired man responded calmly as he sat back in his seat. "But trust me when I say that we are not the enemy. Do you?"

They had just seen a magic-using shapeshifter and was now facing the person who was apparently her boss. Sola-Ui, quite honestly, didn't trust him. The way he had just arrived here and asked for them, greeting them like they were old acquaintances and was now essentially holding them hostage? It didn't exactly leave her very open to talking about a secret war.

Still, she had to concede that the fact that he hadn't attempted to force them to give him the information was proof that he wasn't totally a bad guy, or at least out to purposely harm them. He hadn't been overbearing, in fact, quite the opposite. He had been an absolute gentleman, offering a drink to both of them and waiting for them to check on... their friends before asking questions.

Plus, the fact he already knew about the War meant that he was obviously connected to the Association and Church in some way, likely as a investigation for what had happened. It wouldn't do to anger him.

As for Waver, part of him wanted to flat-out say that no, he didn't, but, like Sola-Ui, he also understood that if Silverstein had wanted to, he could have forced them to tell him what he wanted to know, by either his own hand or the woman(?) just outside. They had already silenced the hallway, they had them at their mercy. That they had done no such thing was proof that they were making a rather obvious effort to gain his and Sola-Ui's trust.

The two looked at each other, understanding what the other was thinking. Sola-Ui nodded.

Waver sighed softly. Well, trust was a two-way street, after all. Both sides had to willing for any progress to be made.

"We don't," he admitted, "but we're willing to try."

Mr. Silverstein smiled, and it wasn't an intimidating one either. "Well, in that case, let's start with my full name. My name is Edgar Silverstein. You may refer to me, for now, as Edgar." He then held out a hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Waver,Ms. Sola-Ui."

Waver slowly shook the other's hand, Sola-Ui following suit. "Still... I don't know where to start our tale..."

Edgar sat back in his seat, crossing his legs. "Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

Last Night (Waver and Sola-Ui)

"W-What is this..." Waver muttered to himself in horror as he, along with Sola-Ui, looked towards the burning buildings. He had just finished consoling the grieving woman, letting her slowly let go of him, when a bright flash of light had blinded both of them. When they had recovered, they saw a black moon in the sky before it let down some sort of liquid. Next thing either of them knew, Fuyuki was on fire.

Sola-Ui just stared numbly in shock. "I-I don't know," she mumbled softly, fear gripping her heart. "But it looks like it came from the Civic Center..."

Waver turned to her. "But... Berserker couldn't have made that, and neither could Saber!" he argued, at first worried she was trying to place the blame on either of his former allies. "They would never use something like that!"

"I know, but that's not what I meant..." she responded, still watching the flames. "Something else must have done it."

Waver was about to ask her what, but was interrupted by the distant sounds of ambulances and fire trucks coming. Turning his head in the direction of the sounds, he looked back to the quickly spreading flames, noticing how they were getting closer to their location.

He was torn. Part of him wanted to help them, but he was also scared. What if he died trying to save someone? What had Rider said?

As king, it is my duty to inspire others to dream. And as my retainer, it is your sacred duty to ensure that see my dream to the end and share it with future generations.

That was what Rider had said. He needed to carry on his King's words, to share them with the next generation. He couldn't do that if he was dead.

But then again, how could he carry on his king's dream to the next generation if he couldn't prove himself to the current? How could he call himself worthy to carry it if he couldn't save someone in need? He would be a hypocrite, even worse off than being dead.

Yes, Waver was morally and mentally obligated to do something about it, but... 'No,' he thought to himself, shaking his doubts away. 'I have to try and help. It's what Rider would have done.'

"We have to help them," Waver said to Sola-Ui, who turned towards him. "We need to save someone."

She stared for a moment in surprise, trying to see where all this extra confidence had come from, then nodded mutely. Like him, she could tell that she had an obligation to help, and, despite her fear, help she would.

'It's what Caster would have done, after all,' she thought suddenly, then realized something. Caster WOULD have done so, and likely would have been the first on the scene. Once more, she felt sadness at her Servant's death come to her, but she pushed it aside. He wouldn't have wanted her to break down like that a second time. She had to keep going.

With those thoughts, both of them quickly raced towards a burning street, instantly feeling the heat as it swamped them. Still, they pressed on, their clothing sticking to their bodies with sweat only to dry as it evaporated. Reaching the first building, both tried not to gag at the smell of burning flesh.

Waver rammed against the door, only to see it stand still. Both looked at each, then, nodding, they rammed it together once, twice, thrice, four times before it gave way with a crash. To their horror, they beheld only the sight of multiple corpses, their bodies blacken by fire, their limbs twisted into various angles of agony.

Overcome with nausea, both at the sight and smell, they raced out of the building, unashamedly barfing up their last meal all over the ground.

"Oh God..." Waver muttered as he wiped his mouth, then grimaced as he grabbed his arm, feeling something warm and sticky through the sweater's fabric. Looking down, he saw his clothes were torn, a long cut down his arm and bleeding. "Must have been from the door..." he muttered darkly.

"Hold on!" Sola-Ui said quickly, holding her hands out towards him. "I may not have much in terms of magic, but I do know some healing spells..."

Waver was silent as she worked, watching as her hands glowed a bright green before the cut started to heal. He breathed in slowly. "Thanks."

Sola-Ui sighed in relief. "You're welcome." A very brief smile appeared on her beautiful face as she looked at him.

Wait, beautiful? 'Focus Waver!' he shouted in his mind, 'You have other things to worry about right now!'

Quickly, they both moved on towards the other houses, always trying to find some survivors. However, they were without luck. Each house they forced open was only filled with dead people: Men, women and children all nothing but blacken corpses. Worse, several times Waver and Sola-Ui were injured, either from breaking in or from the flames, forcing the later to use her magic to heal the injuries, which started to take its toll.

"Damn it," Waver muttered helplessly as he looked into another house, seeing the same sight he had grown accustomed to at least a dozen times before. "Isn't there anyone left alive?"

Sola-Ui stood alongside him, hands on her knees as she panted, then looked towards the Civic Center randomly. She stopped, turning her head back towards it and placing a hand over her eyes, trying to get a better look. She tugged on Waver's sleeve, getting his attention.

"Waver..." she panted slowly, "Do you see... that?"

Waver turned in the direction she was pointing, squinting his eyes. All he saw was a burning street with rubble and smoke everywhere, with two people stumbling along... wait...

Waver's eyes widened as he looked again, willing his vision to show him the truth, not some desperate hope of his mind being projected in front of him.

No change. The stumbling figures were as real as when he had first glimpsed them. Feeling hope rise in his heart, he grabbed Sola-Ui by the arm. "C'mon, let's go!"

Both of them moved as quickly as they tired bodies could through the smoke, forcing themselves to move even faster when they saw the smaller of the figures fall to the ground, its companion stopping to try and pick it up before collapsing alongside. Waver skidded to a stop by the fallen people, taking in the image as he did, and gasped, Sola-Ui following his example.

It was two teens, male and female. The slightly larger of the two, the male, was completely naked, his white skin burned and marked by both the flames and the hot ash that had fallen. The female was in a similar state of undress, her modesty and majority of her skin preserved thankfully by the black coat that she was wearing... which looked strangely familiar.

That wasn't what shocked them though. It was the fact that both of them were familiar faces to the former Masters.

Faces that, if the War was truly over and the Grail gone, shouldn't even be here.

"Berserker?" Waver whispered in disbelief, "Soul? What are you two doing here?"

Other questions were burning in his mind, like why on Earth they were stumbling around in physical form when they could astralized, why they did they look so weak as if they were about to keel over and die, why they appeared to be suffering from both burns and smoke inhalation, despite the fact they shouldn't have been being Servants, why were they naked...

"Waver!" Sola-Ui snapped quickly, jarring him back to the task at hand. "We can worry about those things later! Right now, they need help!" Not even waiting for an answer, she once again started using her healing magic, her face becoming paler as she put more magic into healing the worst of the burns on both of them.

Waver, putting aside his questions for now, nodded his head and moved to help, removing his sweater and putting it on Soul, deciding it would be less awkward for the Weapon if he was at least partially clothed. He looked at Sola-Ui as she finished healing the worst of the burns, realizing that she had used up too much energy, if the way her face was even paler and that her body was slightly shaking even while kneeling was any indication.

He put a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. "Come on," he said tiredly, "We need to get these guys to safety."

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to protest, but then glanced at the collapsing buildings nearby, watching as flames consumed them even faster. She nodded sadly in reply.

Waver hefted the Weapon up onto his shoulder, holding one of his arms to make sure he wouldn't fall off and began to slowly walk towards the sirens seemed closest. Sola-Ui took Berserker in a similar fashion, though she was moving slower despite her passenger's lighter weight. Waver actually had to go back and partially support Berserker's other side with his free arm, the strain on his body feeling like it was about to start killing him. He didn't voice his body's disgruntlement though.

Luckily for the weary rescuers and unconscious rescued, they didn't stumble far before they came upon one such emergency squad, whose members were busy grimly zipping up morgue body bags. It would appear that they weren't having any better luck than they had.

"Hey!" Waver called out, catching their attentions. "Help us, please! We have survivors!"

"Holy shit, they're some live ones!" One shouted, making the others stop and some gasp in equal parts surprise and relief.

"Then quit gawking, you idiots!" The 'leader' of the group barked out, anger evident in his tone at their behavior. "Help these guys! You aren't fucking bystanders!"

The rest snapped to attention at his words and rush to Waver and Sola-Ui, grabbing Soul and Berserker and putting them on stretchers that looked like they hadn't seen any usage recently. The leader watched as they carefully loaded them onto the ambulance, then turned to the former Masters, his voice taking a calmer and more grateful tone. "Thank God that you two were here, whoever you are," he admitted, "I was worried that we were too late to save anyone."

He then took a good look at their conditions, noticing their burned clothing, ash-covered skin, and pale looks, then glanced back the way they had come, noticing some of the doors they had broken open. His face then took a more sympathetic look. "You people should come with us too. You've both probably ingested way too much smoke, and you don't look like you're gonna get much further either."

A part of Waver wanted to protest, but a brief glance at Sola-Ui's now obviously trembling form shattered any form of doing so. As much as he wanted to try and save some more people, maybe even find out what caused this fire, he wouldn't make it far like this, and he wasn't about to leave Sola-Ui alone.

He nodded his head numbly alongside her, and the next thing he knew he was inside the ambulance with Sola-Ui and the Servant-Weapon pair, the later of whom were hooked up to some breathing apparatus. He felt Sola-Ui wrap her arms around his form, to which he responded with his own, the two just sitting there as they each used the other as a pillow and support of sorts to rest upon, his head upon her chest and her head on his own, both too tired to care.

'Two people,' he thought with increasing haziness, his adrenaline rush giving way to simple fatigue, 'We saved two people out of potentially hundreds. That's got to count for something, right?'

His mind offered no answers as he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

Fuyuki Hospital

"...I see," Edgar simply said as the two Masters finished their tale, his mind replaying everything they had just said and building his own conclusions. "So, you're saying that both Berserker and her Weapon showed signs of smoke inhalation and burns, despite being Servants and therefore immune to the former and especially resistant to the later under normal circumstances?"

"Yes," both of them responded at the same time, their voices brokering no falsehood.

"And you swear that everything you've told me is the truth?"

"Yes."

"And that you're both getting married when this all blows over?"

"Ye-," they started, then sputtered as they realized what he had just said, their faces turning as red as Sola-Ui's hair.

"N-No!" Sola-Ui responded, "Of course not!"

"Y-Yeah! What she said!" Waver added.

Edgar chuckled. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," he replied as he stood up and dusted his pants legs off. "Well, I don't see any reason to doubt your claims. I will have to ask, however, that you stay here for at least another day."

"What? Why?" Sola-Ui asked confused.

"I need to make my report to my superiors, and see what they think about all of this," Edgar replied calmly, "Just because I believe you doesn't mean they will, though my word is very highly sought after. I'd also like to speak with you both again before you leave."

The two didn't seem completely convinced, but they nodded anyways. He shook both of their hands, then began to walk away, hands in his pockets and the picture of calmness.

Mentally though, he was sending all the information, including memories of their actions, he had just seen and heard directly to Chryssie, just outside in the main hallway. 'Well? What do you think?'

'Hmm,' he heard her hummed to herself in compilation, her mental voice missing its rather sultry edge. 'Well, they're certainly not lying. Their actions seem and voice seem to be the real deal, so they at least believe what they're saying, and I see no reason why they would lie about how they found a Servant and her partner.'

'I know, I'm willing to believe their story as well,' Edgar replied in agreement, 'Still, receiving burns and suffering from smoke inhalation? That shouldn't be possible for Servants.'

He opened the doors and saw Chryssie, still in disguise, nearby. Nodding to each other, they began to walk down the halls, still conversing mentally.

'Well...' here, she paused before speaking again, 'the burns are possible, especially if this was a magical-based fire, but the smoke shouldn't have been a problem. I mean, in theory, a Servant could fight underwater with the same level of skill as on land, only slowed due to the water's density and pressure, right?'

Indeed. While Servants could interact with the physical world, even eat and drink like a normal being, in the end, they were still spirits. A Servant, so long as it had sufficient amounts of Prana, could survive in a water-based combat zone, or even potentially a vacuum... assuming that high enough pressures of the former or the explosive decompression of the later didn't kill them, but again, it was a theory.

'That's what bugging me,' Edgar admitted, 'I mean, the only possible way they could have suffered like that would be if they actually had-'

Edgar was cut off when Starrk appeared right next to them with a faint, booming noise. His blue-gray eyes stared into his own, and the intensity of his stare was enough to make Edgar visibly flinch. Still, he quickly composed himself.

"Well?" he asked the gray-clad man, "What did you find out from Berserker and her partner?"

Chryssie's silencing spell had been meant for more than just blocking out anyone from eavesdropping on his conversation with Waver and Sola-Ui. It had also been meant to keep them from hearing the conversation going on between Starrk and the patients next door.

Starrk's gaze didn't waver, a sort of calm anger within his eyes that surprised even Edgar, who had known him longest save Lyn. He rarely showed this level of anger, visible or otherwise, and the fact he was showing it now was proof that whatever he had learned from them was pissing him off.

And it was never good for anything that pissed off Starrk this much. The last thing that had done so, ORT in South America... well, there was a new vacancy on the DAA list after that battle. True, Starrk had every other member of the group backing him, but...

"Everything," was his only reply. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small tape recorder and handed it to his leader. "On that's everything you need to know about their side of things."

"That was quick," Chryssie admitted. "How you'd convince them so fast?"

"I told her about her father," Starrk replied. "Just little things that no one else knew. That graduated to answering questions about their universe, which I did. They finally accepted who we really are after that."

"You told them who we are?" she replied with a raised eyebrow. "You realize we're not supposed to reveal ourselves to the public like that..."

"I'm aware of our rules, changeling," he responded calmly, not even fazed when her body briefly flickered back to its original form, green eyes narrowed angrily at him. "But they're not the public, if you recall. Full trust is the only way to get people like them talking."

Edgar stared at the recorder for a moment, then spoke up, cutting off Chryssie's retort. "You already made an offer?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Accepted on three conditions."

"Three?" Chryssie asked curiously, some of the fire in her voice dying. "And those are?"

"Rescue a damsel in distress, return her and her uncle's body to her family, and kill the son of a bitch who took her."

Edgar didn't even flinch at the steel in his voice. "Was it really necessary?"

"I felt like they've earned it." he replied as he started walking towards the exit.

Edgar had no problems with what Starrk was about to do. He trusted his friend's judgement, and for someone to make Starrk this angry, he had to be someone who deserved what was coming to him. The fact it was Zouken, though he hadn't said a name, was icing on the cake.

Hell, after what Zouken had pulled on them the last time they had met, if he didn't have things to finish up here, he would have gone with him. "You're gonna need backup."

Starrk then pulled out his phone, punching in a number. "Taking Anderson," he said simply. "You need Earl for anything?"

"Actually yeah," Edgar replied. "Tell him it's for a recruiting mission, 'scouting down the line', as it were."

"Name?"

Chryssie handed him a hospital list, which Edgar looked down, staring at two names he had circled upon seeing them. One was a very familiar one, but it was the second that interested him.

"...Emiya."

Elsewhere (Berserker and Soul)

Berserker sighed tiredly as she laid back in her hospital bed, wanting to let the warmth of the coverings take her back to the realm of dreams. Unfortunately, her mind was too occupied with questions to let her do so.

'What happened to us?' she wondered for the dozenth time since waking up, glancing over to the bed next to her. Upon it, Soul, his skin wrapped all over in bandages for his burns, laid still, already in a state of half-sleep. He had only woken once when he had felt that Starrk guy in the room, and upon his leaving, had fallen unconscious once more, his desire to keep her safe from anymore potential harm leaving him.

Thinking of their 'guest' made a small frown crease across her face. When she had awakened only but twenty or so minutes ago, it had been to a nurse checking their vitals. That nurse had kindly explained to her confused self, as Berserker couldn't remember anything after... that, that she and Soul had been rescued from the great fire by Waver and Sola-Ui, who had both also received some hospital care.

She had been surprised and confused, though also grateful, at the news. Grateful at the fact that they had been rescued, but confused at the mention of fire. There hadn't been a fire earlier. She was surprised at the fact that, assuming the former was true, both former Masters had gone straight to the Civic Center to rescue them, right in the center of where the fire was. She didn't think that their self-preservation instincts would allow them that deeply in.

She got her first big shock when the nurse responded to that last point with the fact they had been rescued off a street some ways from the Center, not inside of it, collapsed on the ground.

'What?' she had wondered to herself, 'That can't be right...'

Her confusion only grew when the nurse told her that apparently neither her nor Soul had been wearing a shred of clothing when they were found, save for a black coat on herself and a green sweater on the later. It reached near critical levels when she got a good look at said clothing, recognizing the sweater as Waver's, but for the life her unable to know the coat owner's identity.

Before she could ask anymore questions though, the nurse had already left, leaving her and her unconscious partner alone.

That was for all of ten seconds before Starrk had appeared. As in literally popping into existence in front of their beds with a faint hiss of static and a booming noise.

That was also when Soul had woken up. Seeing a strange man standing in front of their beds with his hands in his pockets as if he was about to pull something out, he had reacted on instinct, trying to jump out of bed and swing a scythe blade towards Starrk's head. He almost fainted because he barely had the strength to simply sit up, much less jump out and transform.

Starrk simply raised his hands out of his pockets sheepishly, showing he had nothing to hide. "Whoa, hey..." he said embarrassingly. "Sorry 'bout that. I was hoping to get in here while you were still sleeping-"

"You were hoping to what!?" she had yelled in an admittedly high-pitched voice, but she was still under a lot of stress and confused at the time.

Luckily, Starrk managed to get things straightened out. He told them his name and then the name of the group he worked for, briefly explaining what they did, what they had been called here to do, and that he had been ordered to specifically speak to survivors.

They, of course, had been rather skeptical at first.

"I don't believe you." Soul said rather bluntly.

Starrk raised an eyebrow. "Ouch, that's harsh."

"Sorry," she had said apologetically, "but I have to agree with my friend. What you've just told us isn't exactly easy to swallow. Traveling across dimensions? Being from another dimension yourself? Sorry if we're a little skeptical."

"I assure you, I'm telling the truth, Servant Berserker, or rather Maka Albarn."

She stiffened at that. Not once did she ever mention her class or name, especially not her last name. "How did you-?"

He smiled slightly. "I knew your father Spirit at one point. Good kid, if a little too skirt-crazy." He then sat down in a chair nearby, staring into their faces. "Though I'd say you take more after your mother. Blond suits you better than red would." He seemed to grin at their widening eyes. "Do I have your attention now?"

"Who are you, really?" Soul asked with narrowed eyes. "You know way too much for someone we've just met."

He shrugged. "Would you like to test my knowledge?"

They did just that, grilling him about anything they could think about, from Lord Death to Kishins, to DWMA to the faculty, the identity of every Death Scythe and their current status, to even what was the name of their cat roommate.

Everything he replied with was, to their knowledge, correct.

"Impossible," she had said when she finished that last question. "You can't really be a dimensional traveller."

"Was anything I just told you about them wrong?"

"...No," she admitted.

"Then be willing to give me the benefit of the doubt when I tell you about what I do." He replied simply. "But now it's my turn. I need to know exactly what happened during the War, from your summoning, to your Master and his motivations, to how it all went down in the end."

Noticing their reluctant looks, he then added as an afterthought. "If you agree, I might be willing to help you with those problems, especially if they involve a certain old worm by the name of Matou..."

Maka would have been lying if she said that she didn't immediately start to look at him with a renewed interest, remembering Kariya's last request. It seemed almost too good to be true, like he was some sort of angel from heaven that heard her Master's final plead.

Still, the way he said 'worm' indicated that he knew who Zouken was, or at least had an inkling.

"In fact," he added, "If you also want to know more about what I do, I'll even throw in three conditions you can impose upon before joining."

"You're really gonna bribe us like that?" Soul asked suspiciously. "Something tells me this isn't your standard recruiting plan."

"You guys aren't our standard recruits," Starrk countered. "I happen to know your parents, so that makes me at least partially lenient towards you. Plus, two kids like you deserve a break after what you've gone through.

Maka looked at Soul, who nodded slowly, his message clear. I'll back your play.

"...Alright then," she finally responded, "We'll tell you."

So they told him everything, from their summoning to the last request by Kariya, skimming over their more personal moments with Saber and only saying the important parts of their time with their Master and their allies. Still, she noticed that as they got to the part with Sakura's 'training', Starrk's eyes got narrower and narrower, smouldering with anger and disgust as they described, once again skimming over the more disgusting parts, the sight of Sakura in the worm pit. From the way his jaw was set though, he was easily filling in the blanks in the description.

When they finally concluded with being swamped by the black mud, unable to remember anything until they had awakened in the hospital, Starrk stood up, nodding his head. The anger at what he had heard was still fresh in his eyes, but he seemed to have it under control.

"Thank you for that," he replied good-naturedly, at odds with the expression in his eyes. "I hope you consider the offer while you rest too."

"Do you know why we're still physically here anymore, despite the Grail's destruction?" Maka asked him. "I know we received a Command Seal from our Master to survive, but I don't feel its pull on me anymore."

"Don't know," Starrk admitted, "Perhaps the black sludge gave you both physical bodies, allowing you to survive without a Master. Would certainly explain why you were hurt in the fire, plus why you were naked, if it only turned your flesh real, and why you can't go spirit form anymore."

Maka quickly tried just that, and to her surprise, she couldn't. Her body was as solid as before.

"Starrk tipped his hat to both of them. "Well, got to get going. See ya."

"Wait...if it's not too much of a bother," Maka said as he made as if to leave through the door, "Could we possibly use those conditions right now?"

"And they are?" he asked curiously, holding out one hand.

"First, we want you to rescue Sakura," she said. "You know where it is from what we've told you anyways."

Starrk held out one finger.

"You need to bring her and her uncle's..." here, she paused for a moment, "body to their family, the Tohsaka's."

Starrk held out a second one.

"And make sure Zouken can never get his hands on her again." Soul finished for her.

Starrk held out his third finger, then looked at them quizzically. "Seriously? Using them all on this same little girl?"

"Gladly," Maka replied. "There's really nothing else we need anyways... aside for some real clothes," she muttered at the end.

Starrk chuckled slightly. "Pretty and clever. Just like your mother..." he muttered, then looked at them. "Fine. Don't worry about the ones you've made, especially not that last one," he said, "I'll make certain that Zouken never bothers her again."

He then turned to Soul, smiling slightly. "You should really propose to her kid. Girls like that aren't very common around here." Within a second he was gone, the familiar static and booming noise the only sign of his passing.

After a brief period of disbelief/embarrassment at those words, Soul had fallen back to sleep, too tired to stay up after all of that, leaving Maka to ponder Starrk's words and now officially back in the present.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'll make certain that Zouken never bothers her again."

Her frown had come because of the way he had said that. It had sounded so... final.

She almost felt pity for the old man. Almost.

Zouken's Hideout

Zouken smirked as he fed the crest worm the fragments of the destroyed Grail he had recovered from the Civic Center, glancing behind him to notice Sakura once again in the worm pit, undergoing her training. He then spared a glance to his left, noticing his nephew's body, currently being devoured by the Worms as a fuel source.

Once again, he had to give his failure child credit. He honestly never would have thought that Kariya would get within an inch of obtaining the Grail, and he was about to win it too! If only that damned Emiya hadn't destroyed it...

He shook his head and chuckled. Kariya may have ultimately failed him, but Sakura most certainly wouldn't. No more would he rely on other's efforts and failings to achieve his goals. He was about to take his own personal stake into the next War, making Sakura the secret second host of the Lesser Grail. No matter who won in the end, Sakura would serve him and only him for the Fifth War, and she would be the secret to his success at finally gaining his wish.

Curiously though, there were fewer pieces of the Grail than he would have expected, even if they had been struck with an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm...

Zouken's eyes widened as a sword suddenly passed through his neck, severing his head from his body. Turning even as he fell, they only got wider when he realized that Sakura was no longer in the pit. His surprise quickly turned to a scowl as he dissolved into his worm form and reassembled himself, spreading his senses to his worms to find out just where the intruders had go-

"Damn, that's just disgusting."

Never mind then.

Turning, he beheld the sight of Sakura, unconscious, in the arms of Father Anderson, cradling her form as if she was glass. Beside him, wiping the blood-covered blade in his hands on a white towel, Starrk stood with a stoic expression. "I always knew you were a sick fuck, Zouken, but this just takes the disgusting cake, piss filling and shit icing included."

Zouken's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Raymond Starrk, Edgar Silverstein's lapdog," he spat venomously. "I never thought you were show your face around here again. What's the occasion?"

"Simple. It's the classic story where the brave knight and his trusted companion rescue the princess from the ugly sorcerer," Starrk replied without missing a beat. "We all remember how that one goes, right?"

"Yes," the old man replied. "It's one of my favorites, particularly where the princess is watching as her knight is being ripped to pieces by the sorcerer-turned-dragon's talons."

Anderson placed Sakura down as the two spoke, then stabbed six bayonets around her form. Suddenly, several Bible pages flew out his book, filling the space between the blades and completely covering her body. "No need for children to see us adults and monsters fight," he muttered silently.

"How noble of you, Father," Zouken mockingly replied, mentally sending several of his worm familiars away in case he needed to regenerate far from here. To his surprise, they stopped when they came in contact with an invisible wall of force, literally burning to death when the over-eager touched it.

"You won't be escaping this time, Zouken," the priest told him as he drew two bayonets from his cloak, their holy inscriptions shining briefly. "I placed a barrier around this whole area. All your worms are contained." He smiled, white teeth bared like a killer's, "It's not fading 'till one of our sides is dead."

Zouken allowed his body to transform into its individual worms, losing all trace of humanity as it joined with the swarm rising from the pit. "You two are fools," he muttered, his voice sounding disjointed as the mouths of his worms seemed to carry it with them. "I'll finish you both just as I should have done years ago, just like I did with that bratty girl."

Anderson's smiled faded, and Starrk's eyes narrowed dangerously. The later dropped the towel he had been carrying onto the ground, and the former simply readjusted his weapon grip.

"You got away because we were weak from that fight and didn't understand just what you were capable of," Starrk replied. "This time, it's different."

Zouken didn't resemble anything partially human anymore, even his face breaking apart to join the remainder of his familiars, forming a massive grey-black snake creature. "How so?" it rumbled, voice lacking anymore humanity than his appearance.

Anderson's glasses flashed briefly. "Because we don't have to hold back anymore."

Zouken struck first, a powerful curse manifesting as a black ball of energy released from the entity's 'mouth'. It rocketed directly towards the brown-haired man, who stood there waiting. Just before it would have struck him dead on, Starrk simply held his sword out in a ready stance.

"Limiter release."

The curse literally parted around the blade like a ship cutting through the water, dispelling into nothingness. Zouken's many eyes widened in shock as magical energy began to expand from Starrk's form like a massive bubble, literally manifesting into a blue aura surrounding his entire body.

"I'm ending this now," he simply said, then called out an unfamiliar word. "Cero (Hollow Flash)."

A beam of energy, the same color as his magical aura, shot straight out from his chest, crossing the distance to Zouken in an instant. The top half of his worm form disappeared within the blast, completely incinerated. The giant worm immediately divided itself, rushing towards them like a black wave.

Starrk disappeared in a flash of speed to avoid it, while Anderson performed a more original approach. He threw his bayonets, plus three extras, directly into the center of worm swarm, rushing right in after them. As the blades pierced the wave, they burned away the worms that touched them, the holy blessings destroying the foul creatures and creating several holes in the black mass.

They then promptly exploded, the bombs stored inside widening and combining the holes made by the initial strikes. Anderson dove through them before they could fill back up, hurling several more while he was at it. The worms buzzed in anger as they were dealt more damage, and got even larger as Starrk reappeared overhead and fired several smaller, red blasts through it.

"You think I'll die that easily!?" The giant worm roared as it reformed and opened its main mouth, releasing dozens of Bladed Wing Worms at both of them. As Starrk blew his swarm to ashes while Anderson sliced them up, the worm released another magic blast, striking Starrk as his own attack finished and sending him into the wall, cracking it. It then swung its tail at Anderson, smashing him into the ground. "You fools are nothing to me!"

He was so busy roaring though, that he completely missed what Anderson was whispering.

"I kill, I give life. I injure, I heal. There are none who escape from my hands. There are none who escape from my eyes.
May it be so that you are shattered..."

Starrk fired several more red energy blasts, which Zouken countered with his worms. Concentrating, he summoned even more of his familiars from their hiding places, ordering them to attack the flying opponent. Starrk's eyes widened as he was swarmed by the flyers, obscured from sight as they struck at him.

"I welcome the defeated, the aged. Surrender to me, learn from me, obey me.
May you be at rest..."

Zouken turned back to Anderson, only briefly feeling the pain of the priest slicing off his tail's end with another bayonet. His multiple eyes narrowed at hearing his whispering, then widened when they realized there was only one chant it could be.

"Do not forget the song, do not forget the prayer, do not forget me .I relieve you of all burdens.
May it be so that there is no deception..."

"No!" He roared as he sent his worms at Anderson, who sliced them to pieces, his chant not once breaking.

"Retaliation unto forgiveness, betrayal unto belief, despair unto hope, darkness unto light, death unto life..."

Growing more desperate, he forced his familiars to attack from below, attempting to consume the priest before he could finish. Anderson's eyes widened as the ground beneath him exploded outward, dozens of worms attempting to rip him to pieces. He continued to chant however, even as several worms, despite his efforts to jump away, managed to latch onto his legs and start biting into his skin, ripping through clothing to reach the red blood beneath.

"May you rest in my hands. Let there be mark of your sins. Eternal life is found only in death..."

Zouken charged another blast of magic, firing it directly at Anderson with all the force and focus he could muster. In doing so, however, he turned his back on Starrk.

In an instant, his magic attack disappeared in a flash of blue light. In the next one, he found himself blasted to the ground, Starrk, clothes torn but skin just fine, over him with his hand outstretched with blue light once more forming. Anderson, on the other hand, was charging straight towards him, fist clenched with a golden light.

"Forgiveness is before you, and so my incarnation vows..."

"It's over," Starrk stated calmly.

"Never!" Zouken roared with the polar opposite emotion, his body dividing to try and avoid the coming strike.

Too slow.

"May God have mercy of this soul (Lord, have mercy)"!"

With that, Anderson swung his fist directly into the largest center mass of the giant worm, light exploding outwards and into the foul creature.

"AMEN!"

Zouken screamed as his body literally disintegrated, his form dissolving into smoke as the holy magic ripped through his form. It was a different sort of pain than the usual one though. His soul itself literally felt like it was on fire, tearing apart as easily as the worms that made up his body. To his growing horror, even the worms not connected to his main body were burning away, their screeches of pain and agony echoing his own and rebounding off the walls of the cavern.

This was the Baptism Rite, the sole magical miracle permitted to be learned by the members of the Church. It's a ritual that has little effect on the physical body, but almost absolute against the spiritual one, especially if the soul happens to be corrupt.

Against someone like Zouken, who was essentially a specter who uses worms to tamper with the world, it was practically a one-hit kill.

"NO!" He screamed as his felt his consciousness fading, every worm that was a part of his being dying and unable to do anything to save him. "I can't die like this! It's not my time!"

Starrk stared without pity at his writhing form. "Your time was up over a century ago, worm," he muttered quietly. "This is for everyone who ever suffered because of you: Kariya, Sakura, all of the Matous, and every innocent life you took in your mad and selfish ambition for immortality."

Desperately, Zouken tried to reach for the worms he stored within Sakura, only to realize with growing horror he could no longer sense them. 'What!? How!?'

Anderson seemed to guess his surprise. "Forgot to mention, that barrier," he jerked a thumb towards Sakura's protection, "also has purifying properties. It's been systematically killing every worm in her body, starting from her heart to her less important areas. Not even your shadow will haunt her ever again."

"Damn you!" Zouken screamed fruitlessly as he continued to vanish, his roar turning to a mere buzzing as more and more familiars died off. His worms were literally only prolonging his suffering, as he wouldn't die until every worm had completely faded away or his soul did. "I curse you both! Curse your leader and his interfering ways! May you both die horrible deaths and may everything you hold dear die with you!"

Yet despite the destruction of both body and soul, Zouken Matou refused to give in. His ruined formed dragged itself across the ground by sheer willpower, ancient memories of happier days passing by him as he sought uselessly to bring ruin upon his opponents. He remembered the promise he had made to the one woman he loved and the man he called best friend; how they had desired to create and bring about a miracle, and so formed what would become the Holy Grail War.

Yet it had been for naught. Even when the woman he loved gave up her physical form to craft the Grail, and his friend ultimately passed on, the miracle they had dreamed of did not come to pass. And so the man called Zouken Makiri endured, eventually resorting to more desperate and desperate methods of prolonging his life until he became the being called Zouken Matou, less than a mere shadow of his old self both physically and morally, forgetting even the original reason he had sought the Grail in order to obtain immortality.

Yet again, the desire was there, and so great was it that even in the face of destruction and agony he refused to abandon it. And so he dragged on, his mind and body fragmenting even as he clutched at the dream which had sustained him for so long, attempting to reach those who would take it from him.

The two members of OSG were silent, both remembering an old friend as they watched Zouken writhe and thrash about on the ground as he tried to reach them. Images of a cutlass-wielding girl, no more than perhaps 14 or so, slicing through Dead Apostles and saving innocent lives, proclaiming herself proudly to be a hero of justice as she did so, flashed through their minds, her determination to save others over herself shining in her eyes. She had been brave to a fault, selfless to the extreme, and she never once regretted it.

And then, the memory came, as it always did. The shattering of a jewel, the rise of the Mermaid Knight, and the chaotic battle that followed, only ended when she laid on the ground, her body broken and her mind almost shattered as badly as that jewel. They remembered Edgar, one arm almost torn to shreds, and her former partner, his chest covered in a massive scar, carrying her to a safe place where she had remained for the past 15 years, still attempting to recover.

All caused because of one man, a man who desired to understand and have the immortality she possessed. The one in front of them.

By this point, Zouken's consciousness had more or less faded away completely, leaving only a gibbering insulting wreck without any true sense of purpose, yet still guided by the barest instincts. "Curseyoucurseyoucurseyoucurseyoucurseyoudamnyoudamnyoudamnyoutheaasdghstslafjalshdgsadfjsjkdjsljisodhosih..."

Starrk simply allowed his energy to gather into his palm once more. "Cero."

With that final blast, Starrk silenced the mindless sludge that was once Zouken Matou, one of the original founders of the Holy Grail War.

However, unknown to either of them and uncaring if they had, as the ruined body of Zouken gazed upon the blue light about to consume him, he saw, just for a moment, a young woman with silver hair and red eyes staring at him, clad in beautiful robe and hat of red and white. Just like that, all of his rage and mindless hatred within that putrid form vanished to be replaced with amazement and wonder, his mind clearing in a single moment of pure clarity.

And how couldn't he? Despite having never seen her in over two centuries, he could never forget that face.

'...Justeaze...' he thought like a young man head over heels in love, which he at one time had been, nonexistent tears leaking from unseeing eyes.

The phantom simply gave him a light smile before holding out its hand, as if waiting for him to take it.

And perhaps it was an illusion within illusion, but as Zouken lifted what might had at one point been his old body's hand, he saw not the old decrepit hand that had plagued him for countless years, but rather 'his' hand that he was born with, the hand he had used to fulfill a dream long past.

It was the hand of Zouken Makiri the magus and not the hand of Zouken Matou the monster.

Then the blue light consumed him, and he knew no more.

...

After the deed was done, Anderson turned to Starrk with some concern. "Feel any better?"

Starrk sighed. "Not really, but I suppose that's good in its own way."

His companion nodded. "Revenge is never something you should feel good about Starrk. I'm glad to see you're not yet walking that path."

Starrk turned around and dropped back to the floor, leaning down and picking up the body of Kariya, ignoring the fact it was half-eaten by the damned worms. "Sayaka wouldn't want me doing that either, you know. 'A true hero would never stoop to such levels!' she would have said."

Anderson was wisely silent. It was still a sore subject, even after all these years, to talk about their resident blue-haired, cape-wearing Magical Girl. Shaking his head, he walked over to where Sakura was, releasing the barrier he had placed around her. Looking down at her, he noticed that her unconscious expression, once emotionless, was now peaceful. "The purging worked," he called to Starrk after a moment. "There aren't any worms inside her anymore."

"Good," Starrk replied as he wrapped Kariya's form in his grey coat, covering the worst of the injuries and thanking God that the worms hadn't started to eat his head before they got here. Looking down, he noticed Anderson's bloody legs. "Shouldn't you fix that?"

Anderson glanced down. "What, the pants? I needed a new pair anyways."

The lower parts of his pants were completely ruined, but strangely, the flesh itself seemed completely unmarked, despite the evidence of blood both on the legs themselves and the ripped pants.

Starrk paid it no mind, seeing as it was standard for Anderson anyways. "Let's go then. We have a family to return to."

With that, the two members of OSG left the final legacy of Zouken Matou where it laid, the sludge all that was left of once one of the greatest Magi in existence.

And unknown to them, the fragments of the Holy Grail laid within that sludge, twisted and warped beyond any usage, their corrupted taint a threat no more.

Fuyuki Hospital

Kiritsugu Emiya sat in a chair inside a hospital room silently, staring at the wall while the doctors behind him worked.

He looked horrible. His face looked as if it had aged thirty years in a single night, streaked with tears that hadn't stopped until recently. His clothing was frayed and covered with ash and burn marks, and he stunk like smoke. His hands were covered in cut marks and blacken where he had pushed aside stone and wood, covered in ash and occasionally still burning hot from the fire's heat, looking for any survivors of this apocalypse of his own making.

He had found one.

Thankfully, the doctors weren't bothering him, and until he chose to break the hypnotism he placed on them to ignore him, they wouldn't. They were busy taking the boy off his medical equipment, deeming him recovered enough to risk removing it for more injured people. They had called it a miracle that he had come out without any injuries, not even burns to mark his skin.

Kiritsugu would have called it well-timed chance.

...

Kiritsugu felt the black rain go down all around, but ignored it as he dug feverishly through the remains of an apartment building, trying to find someone, anyone who had survived. This scene had already repeated itself thrice before, and each time, it had ended the same way. No survivors, all blacken corpses.

The fact tore at his very heart and soul. The Holy Grail, the very thing he desired to bring world peace, was nothing but a lie. All this war had been was nothing but a fool's errand for a worthless piece of scrap. All those who had died in this war, innocent and guilty, Master and Servant, had died for nothing.

Iri had died for nothing.

Tears flowed from his eyes just as easily as the black rain flowed from the sky. Not even in his efforts to save the world from an unborn evil, forcing Saber to destroy her hopes to save her people, brought him any joy. He had only unleashed a vengeful evil's curse that had lead to a loss of life that he was unwilling to accept, and now he could never see his daughter Illyasviel again, as no doubt the Einzberns would do everything they could to stop him from reaching her.

The final cherry on top of this ice-cream of damnation? He would die soon even if he did survive today. The Grail's final curse flowed through his veins, its punishment for his spurring of its offer. It condemned him to a slow and painful death, all to slowly come to terms with the fact that everything he had ever done, all the sacrificing he made in the name of the greater good, was for nothing.

His entire life was all nothing but-

A sudden sharp cough interrupted him. Feeling as if someone just injected him with a concentrated syringe of adrenaline, Kiritsugu turned in the direction of the sound, seeing its source. A young red-haired boy was crawling out of the rubble, his body covered in burns and cuts, even coughing up some blood.

Quickly and desperately, he hurried towards the boy, checking him over when he stopped beside him. His heart sank. The boy was too far gone, already on his last legs and giving out far too fast. He should just move on and...

"No."

For a moment, Kiritsugu didn't even realize it had been himself that had spoken, the single word startling him. Then his mind caught up with what that word meant.

No.

A protest, a plead, a decision. He felt new resolve fill himself.

He quickly willed Avalon to appear, watching as the scabbard exited his body and pulled it out the rest of the way. He knew that by doing so he probably cut the number of years he had left down by half. But he didn't care. What mattered was saving the boy.

"Not this time," he muttered. "No matter how many others have died already and will eventually, I won't let you join them."

Taking the sacred Noble Phantasm with both hands, he slowly made it enter the child's body, watching as it vanished with a golden light as he did so. Avalon completely vanished, and then Kiritsugu waited.

One second, two seconds, three sec-

His eyes widened as the boy twitched, then slowly opened his eyes. Yellowish orbs stared blankly in confusion at Kiritsugu, and the Magus Killer felt joy the likes of which he never thought he would feel again.

"You alive..." he whispered, then grabbed the boy's hand, feeling for a pulse frantically. It was there. The whispering became filled with joy as tears fell anew from the eyes, though now of happiness than any sense of sadness. "You're alive!"

The boy just stared at him in confusion as the Magus Killer composed himself somewhat. "Thank you," he whispered, glad he had been able to save one life today. "What's your name?"

The boy was silent, his mind a blank as he tried to remember. Finally, he spoke, a soft, cough-filled voice filling Kiritsugu ears, though to him it might as well been an angel. "S-Shir-ou..."

The newly christened Shirou then fell unconscious, the image of his rescuer burning itself forever in his mind as his first memory.

...

"I understand what you're going through."

Kiritsugu turned towards the man sitting in the seat next to him, his eyes shut and expression calm. "I know how it feels when everything you hold dear comes crashing down around you. However, there's always the choice to get back up and do something about it."

"Edgar, I don't want to hear another lecture from you." Kiritsugu growled, but his voice lacked much venom. Partly due to how they both went back quite a bit, but mostly because he too tired to try.

"Are you still sore because I had sex with your teacher Natalia?" He asked amusedly. "You know, she might have been only part succubus, but she still needed that extra boost of Prana, and we had been drinking quite a bit beforehand..."

Kiritsugu simply looked away, refusing to let his companion get to him.

"Or are you still mad about what happened to your partner?" Edgar asked, this time his voice serious and sadder. "How long will you blame me for what happened to her? I knew no more than you did."

At the mention of his partner, the Magus Killer briefly felt a surge of anger towards the seated man, but didn't lash out. He knew how dangerous his companion could be when pushed, even in a place filled with witnesses. In addition, he felt that Edgar was purposely trying to get a rise out of him, most likely to get him out of his depression. He settled for a verbal response.

"I don't want to talk about it Edgar, nor do I want to talk about her." He replied in a tone that brokered no argument. "Why are you still here anyways? I've already told you everything you needed to know, about both the Grail and what really happened."

"Everything I needed to know," Edgar repeated, "but not everything I want to know."

Kiritsugu stared at him closely. Even after knowing each other for perhaps five years, before parting on admittedly less than pleasant circumstances, he had never been able to figure out what had the leader of OSG tick. "What do you mean?"

"What do you plan to do with the boy?"

Kiritsugu stopped at that, his response stopped at those simple words. Edgar continued.

"Do you plan to leaving him with the orphanage, or do you intend to take him under your wing?"

"I intend to adopt him." Was the reply.

"To make the loss of Illya a little easier for yourself?"

The Magus Killer's eyes narrowed.

"Or perhaps you want to do it because you've grown attached to the kid." Edgar added quickly.

Kiritsugu's expression relaxed and he nodded. "My turn for questions now, Edgar. Why are you so curious? You've no doubt talked to both Waver Velvet and Sola-Ui, and even with Berserker and Soul by this point, and they're all far more trustworthy than me."

Edgar's eyebrows rose.

"Don't give me that look," Kiritsugu added, "I know you talked to them first. You would never question me without having every other involved person's word first." He jerked his head towards the door. "Besides, I know they're only just down the hall, I checked the visitor sheet. I don't think you would have passed such valuable info sources by to talk to the most untrustworthy one first."

True, he himself had been surprised when he saw the visitor sheet and saw Soul's name scribbled on it, but then again, he hadn't seen the two once since the fire. Anything could have happened, though why they would need medical treatment was beyond him...

Edgar sighed. "Can't get anything by you, can I?" He then looked directly at Kiritsugu. "Want to know why? It's because I know you, Emiya. I understand how you think and work, and I knew the moment I saw you were visiting the same room with an orphan survivor, something had gone wrong. You never would have done so at another point in time; you would have just left like a mysterious sceptre, unknown and forgotten, from anyone you managed to save."

Kiritsugu was silent. Edgar continued.

"So when I saw your name next to the kid's, I knew there was something special about him to you. And now you've told me you implanted Avalon itself within his body, its magic healing all of his injuries, and are now going to adopt him despite the fact you'll be dying in a few years by that last curse."

"I'm surprised you believed it all so readily."

"It makes sense when you have eyewitness accounts and are experienced with this sort of thing," Edgar replied, "but that's not the point. What is the point is that I want to know what you'll do when you're gone and he's all alone, a kid with one of the most powerful artifacts on Earth in his possession."

"He'll have Maiya."

"You really think she'll be able to look after him forever or protect him from everything?" Edgar asked. "You can't just implant something like that inside of someone and believe they won't end up involved in something bigger. For all we know, he could be involved in the next War, if the Grail truly hates you as much as you claim and decides to choose him to die. And, by Grail War or something else, he will die if he doesn't know how to fight."

"You want him for to join your group." It was a statement, not a question.

"Indeed."

"All for this work for a simple scabbard?"

"I don't want him for a relic. I want him because he has the look," Edgar corrected him. "The look of someone who wants to prove himself, to show that his survival of this tragedy wasn't just some fluke. I've seen these things before, Kerry."

Kiritsugu tensed at the usage of his nickname. No one had called him that in years, not since Shirley and his old partner...

"He has a tremendous case of survivor's guilt, even if he himself doesn't realize it yet. I could help him focus that, channel it into something worthwhile," Edgar continued, with such conviction in his voice that Kiritsugu himself was surprised, Edgar had changed since the last time he saw him. He knew his former comrade could get rather passionate about helping others, but this was a whole new level. "He could be a hero, someone who can be proud of himself and say that all those lives lost on this day were not in vain, that he carries on their will within himself."

Kiritsugu flinched. Edgar was starting to sound like his old partner too, going on about heroes and the proper way to be one...

Even so, he had struck a chord. Would it not be right for a survivor of this devastation to want to help others, to try and subconsciously prove that it wasn't a mistake of fate that spared him? He didn't doubt that Shirou might very well try to grow up into such a person, and probably wind up dead because he didn't have the training necessary to ensure his survival, but that didn't mean he was just going to hand him over to Edgar when he himself was dead in the ground.

"To be fair to you, Edgar, you're not exactly the best at sniffing out new recruits to your cause, having a bad habit of glossing over their flaws and all," Kiritsugu responded finally, going with a safer option than flat-out rejection or acceptance. "You don't even know if he's capable."

Edgar nodded. "True, some of my personal choices have been... less than stellar-"

"Like me."

Edgar rolled his eyes and continued. "And that's why-" He was interrupted again, but this time by the door opening. Both turned, though the doctors did not, still hypnotized to finish what they were doing. In the middle of the doorway, Earl Harbinger stood with his hands in his pockets and hat off his head.

"Howdy, Kerry." he greeted Kiritsugu, "Haven't seen you since you punched Ed in the face." He then waved to Shirou, who awkwardly waved back from his position on the bed.

"...I brought someone who is able." Edgar finished.

Kiritsugu sighed. "You're really want him to join, don't you?"

Some Time Later

Maiya walked towards Fuyuki Hospital at a hurried pace, ignoring the dozens of concerned people around. Her clothes and skin were covered in smudges of ash, and part of her pants leg had been burned off, but she paid it all no mind. Only one thing was worrying her right now: Kiritsugu.

When she had left the Civic Center as per his orders, moving as fast as she could, she had only gotten perhaps a block away before the giant 'moon' had appeared and started the fire. She had been one of the lucky ones. As the black sludge moved towards her, the fire starting behind it, she had managed to take shelter in a nearby subway before it got too bad, getting on a leaving train (as in jumping on the end and holding on with a death grip) away from the area.

She had only recently made it back, having received a call from Kiritsugu only a few hours ago that he needed her. She would have come back sooner, but he had ordered her to leave, and leave she had until she got the order to come back. She had been forced to make her way on foot, and she drew plenty of stares with her condition to say in the least.

To her though, that didn't matter. What mattered was getting to Kiritsugu.

'At least he's alive,' she thought to herself as she entered the hospital, which was filled with patients and people with injuries requiring treatment. The patients were from the edge of the fire, as no one save for a few children and adults survived the initial blaze. The people with injuries were mostly those who had risked their lives trying to saved those patients, burns being the most common wounds among them.

'But if that was all due to Servants, does that mean Kiritsugu won the Grail?' she wondered as she signed the visitor's sheet held by gray-haired doctor with glasses for one child's name 'Shirou', just as Kiritsugu instructed her before going upstairs, not noticing how the man's face briefly shifted to one of pity, eyes flickering green behind the glasses.

'Yes, it's impossible that anyone else but Kiritsugu could have won the Grail by that point. After all, he wouldn't still be alive if he hadn't...' When she reached the second hallway, she began to walk down it, glancing to the side for a moment and stopping. In front of her, the door slightly ajar, she could see both Waver Velvet and Sola-Ui talking to two other people in hushed voices, too softly for her to hear, though the tone indicated they were arguing. 'So, they're both still alive as well...'

She didn't bother to stop and eavesdrop. No doubt they were speaking to survivors they might have rescued, so she continued onwards, finally spotting Kiritsugu at the very edge of the hallway, having just exited with the air of someone who just lost an argument. She quickened her pace towards him. "I'm here, Kiri-"

"The boy is almost fully healed, Maiya," he suddenly said as she drew near, interrupting her. "I'm going to adopt him when he's done talking to the doctors."

"Kiritsugu?" She questioned worriedly as he turned to her, and she got a good look at his condition. She stifled a gasp at his face, which looked so similar to how it had been the last time she had seen her, but now multiplied by a factor of ten.

"I know the truth, Maiya," he whispered quietly, "About the Grail, and about everything else."

And so he told her, in a whisper, of what the Grail truly was: How it was corrupted, what had happened, and finally how he had found the boy.

"He remembers nothing save his name is Shirou, and no one has come to pick him up," Kiritsugu concluded. "He's an orphan right now, and so I will adopt him as my son. I hypnotized most of the hospital staff so that they'll let us go without much trouble." He looked down with a small smile. "It's what Iri would have done..."

Maiya placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the man she loved and nodded. Indeed, the kind woman who had his been his wife would have done the same thing. She then watched as three doctors exited the room, talking about informing the orphanage to 'take another' before Kiritsugu entered the room. Following him, she was surprised to see an older, sandy-blond man, in his forties, talking with gusto to a young boy of about six or seven years with red hair, who was listening with rapt attention. In the corner, a white-haired man watched the proceedings with a small smile, not filled with any malice whatsoever.

Even so, her hand went unconsciously for her gun before Kiritsugu placed his own on it, stopping her. The gesture was clear: These men weren't a threat.

"Well?" Kiritsugu called out, the occupants of the room looking at him, "Are you quite done?"

The sandy-blond simply nodded as he stood up, rubbing the boy's head playfully as he did so. "Sorry kid. Maybe I'll tell you that story next time." he said as he walked out, nodding respectfully and without arrogance to the newcomers before leaving. The boy's face fell at his leave, as if he was desperate to hear whatever it was he had promised.

The white-haired man followed, giving a smile to the boy that seemed to brighten his mood, and then stopped next to Kiritsugu.

"Remember Kiritsugu," he whispered softly, the words meant for his ears, though Maiya still heard. "This boy's, though it's barely visible, got what it takes, even Earl admitted it. Don't waste what time you have with him."

"As long as you keep your end..." he whispered back. The next words were too soft for even Maiya to hear though.

"I'm a man of my word. I will protect him. Already know who I'm gonna choose. You know both of them, after all."

With that, he nodded to Maiya herself before exiting the room. Maiya glanced behind herself to notice that he had stopped in front of the room to where Waver and Sola-Ui had gone in, opening the door and shutting it behind himself.

'What did he mean by that?' she wondered to herself.

Turning back to Kiritsugu, who had put on a smile, she looked again at the boy in front of her, who had turned his yellowish eyes inquisitively at them.

Kiritsugu took a deep breath. "Hey, you are Shiro-kun, right?" The boy nodded in response, no fear in his eyes as he did so. It would appear that he at least remembered Kiritsugu as his savior. "My name is Emiya Kiritsugu, and this is," he continued, placing a hand on Maiya's shoulder, "is Hisau Maiya."

She gave the boy a small nod, to which he responded with a polite one of his own. So far so good.

"I'll be frank with you," Kiritsugu stated. "Do you want to be taken in by a shady couple like us, watched over from afar by people from entirely different dimensions looking to recruit you in the future, or live a normal life in an orphanage?"

Maiya gave him a strange look at those words, particularly at the dimension part, but for the boy, it didn't seem that hard of a decision to make, as his face was practically beaming as he rushed behind a curtain to change his clothes before running back towards Kiritsugu. The former Magus Killer smiled as he took one of his hands into his own, before all three began the walk down the hallway in silence.

"By the way, I should mention this to you now while you have the chance to back out," Kiritsugu added as he looked down into the boy's smiling face. "I'm a Magus."

The boy's face just twisted briefly into confusion, then to what could best be described as admiration. He squeezed Kiritsugu's hand tighter, which had the Magus Killer fighting back a laugh. "Guess I just sealed the deal, huh?"

He knew that the future wasn't going to be sunshine and rainbows, far from it, in fact. His wife was dead, his dream in tatters, and his daughter forever barred from him. He was dying slowly even now, and if what Edgar had said was true, the boy who he had taken on as his own might someday be targeted by an otherworldly entity simply because it couldn't let go of a grudge.

But he ignored those thoughts, pushing them to the back of his mind. Instead, he concentrated on smiling for the child holding his hand, the life he had saved out of hundreds. Briefly, an old saying came to him, one he had long ago dismissed as foolishness.

'Sometimes, a simple act of kindness or mercy can change the world.'

For the first time in what seemed like centuries, Kiritsugu Emiya felt hope rise in his chest.

---

And so, that's another chapter down... Until the epilogue!

Yes, I know this could be considered a trolling moment, but this chapter was nearing 20K before I realized that the epilogue would be best suited as its own chapter. So, just a little longer, my viewers! It's going to cover everything that happens in the following month and years down the road.

As for anyone wondering, yes Kiritsugu and Edgar know each other. Old Kerry was a former member of OSG for a time, starting from about two years before Natalia, his mentor, died and continuing on for a time afterwards. They eventually parted under less than perfect circumstances, after an incident involving Kiritsugu's partner (who may or may not be the person mentioned with Starrk and Anderson). Points to anyone who can figure out who it is!

And for anyone wondering where a certain priest is in all of this, well, just wait and see!

'Till next time!