Apologies for the delay! I wanted to take some time to revamp the first chapter, which pushed this back a bit.
As always: enjoy.
"Nnnnnnnghhh—!"
"Haaaaaaa—!"
Day number...
...
He'd lost count.
Day number whatever day it was of Artoria and Arthur's never ending competition to... to... shit, what was the reward this time?
Ah, yes. 'To move one's sleeping bag closer to Shirou's!'
His heart wept. He wanted to weep in general, too, but doing so would focus their attention on his woes, rather than their exceedingly outlandish arguing, and he vastly preferred the latter to the former.
And, much like their locked arms - which hadn't moved an inch for the past two minutes - every single bout they engaged in resulted in...
Wait for it.
...a tie.
...
"This time... this time... the king will fall!"
"Rebellion... shan't be... tolerated...!"
Someone please make it stop.
"Psst! Saber! Psst!" Artoria whispered, much in the same way a small child would pass gossip.
"Yes, Artoria?"
"Arthur is cheating!"
Oh come o—
"I am right here," Arthur drawled.
The volume of Artoria's voice didn't change an octave.
"She is cheating, Saber! She uses prana!"
A bit of red dusted Arthur's cheeks.
"I-I would never, Shirou! It is beneath the king to cheat!"
It wasn't, actually, and it very much was Arthur's modus operandi to use everything at her disposal. He and Saber had many a conversation about that little topic.
That being said.
"Aren't you using prana too, Artoria?"
Her back stiffened with a jolt.
"M-Me? Cheat? Why, Saber! I am offended you would suggest such a foul notion!"
She said as more prana entered her hand.
Arthur's eyes flashed. "'Tis resulting from an unfortunate lack of discipline!"
She said as the tree trunk cracked beneath her elbow.
"You lambaste my effort? Do you realize he is a crackling fire in the winter chill?"
"Thy bedding is warm enough, child."
"Need I remind you of who the adult is, oh noblest of lieges?"
"Ngh—!"
Not since the Second Chaldean War for Dessert had Shirou seen two Pendragons so overtly hostile to one another. Oh the humanity.
"Why don't you each take a side?" he suggested. "One on the left, one on the right."
Pause. Then:
"Share? With her?"
"Share? With her?"
Alright, that was cool.
"Can it be called sharing if you are technically the same person? And besides, we've done it before. Back when Tohsaka—"
"Th-That was different, Shirou!"
Oh, so she did have access to that life. No wonder she lost her cool so easily. She was about... a quarter of the way through her 'Artoriazation', then, if he used his Saber as a measurement metric. Asking questions, having doubts, but unwilling to seek the answers.
"Different how, Saber?"
He had advantages, this time around. As a fragment he stumbled around in the dark and managed to get through to her via a combination of logic, emotional pleas, empathy and downright 'hero of justice'-tier recklessness.
He knew how she thought, now. Knew her problems and how to approach them. Hopefully he could expedite the process - without triggering Avalon.
Maybe. Unlikely. But maybe!
"She... Rin earned it! Deserved it! She knew of thy ailments, and... and..."
"And she gave me the same goal Saber did, just through a different method. All three did. Saber, Tohsaka, Sakura... they grounded me. Gave me something to live for."
Poke at the edges, turn her logic back around. She would try to reason through it. Artoria Pendragon was a logical, empathetic girl; she excelled at identifying issues in others, but struggled with self-reflection.
"Rin knew you since childhood, Shirou. You needed someone there for you, someone present and not burdened by responsibility."
Like that. Per usual, she sold herself short and disparaged her ability to accomplish multiple things at once. He wouldn't risk approaching that topic, not yet, so instead Shirou approached from a different angle.
"Then why is it that every time I summon someone, Saber, it's always you?"
Immediately, she would say—
"Avalon links us, Shirou. Its power is great, but it cannot substitute the support of another."
It was true that the scabbard provided the chain by which they were bound. Without a catalyst, the Throne summoned Servants based on matching personalities. What little information he had access to told him that in his case, that Servant was the Saber side of the Roman gladiator Spartacus.
Strange, then, how Shirou Emiya and Artoria Pendragon still managed to run into each other without Avalon's influence.
"Who was the first Servant Fujimaru summoned into Chaldea? Excluding Kyrielight, of course."
...
Her peeved look told him she knew where this was going.
"It was Archer, Shirou."
"Who was the second?"
"Myself."
"What Servants responded to Hakuno's call for help?"
"Archer, the fox, the franchisee, and King Insufferable, Shirou."
"And who did we eventually run into, Saber?"
"...Myself. Among others!"
She added the last part almost as an afterthought. Artoria's head twisted from him to her and back again; she seemed more amused than anything else.
"I'm not sure if you're aware, Saber, but in a certain timeline, Servants manifest as something called class cards. That world's Illya, at one point, used Archer's. Guess who she fought?"
Her brow twitched with annoyance. He grinned.
"Why yes, Saber, it was Saber Alter. Funny how that works. In a world parallel to that one, one of my shards used that same Archer class card. Guess who he eventually fought?"
The twitching intensified.
"Why yes, Saber, it was someone using your class card."
He'd made his point, but to make it unforgettable:
"The Avalon I hold is my Saber's, yet I was summoned to Artoria, who in this reality would never receive the scabbard to begin with. And then the Counter Force brought both you and Alter here after us. So if it's just Avalon linking us, Saber, why is it that across countless timelines, in who knows how many different places, we always end up directly or indirectly next to each other?"
Arthur's mouth opened and closed, fishing for answers.
"We are each other's support," he finished. "In the end, it's always us. Thousands and thousands of heroes in the Throne, and somehow King Arthur and a nameless Archer wind up together. Every. Single. Time."
...
"That's so romantiiiic!" Artoria squealed. "'Just some boy' she said! Ha! I knew it! In thy face, Medraut!"
Arthur wouldn't make eye contact.
"Wh-What is thy p-point, Shirou?"
"You say Tohsaka earned it more than you did, but I don't see her skipping across worlds with me, arm in arm like a pair of multidimensional newlyweds."
...
Full disclosure.
"N-N-N-N—"
He really enjoyed teasing her.
"Truthfully, Saber, I admire everything you've accomplished. You've sacrificed yourself time and time again just so someone else could smile. I did that for both Saber and Sakura. But Tohsaka... one day, she sat me down and said, 'I want you to smile, too'. Being kind to others, helping others... I've learned that's what makes me happy. You can't always be selfless. Sometimes you need to be selfish, Saber."
"...I have power others do not. 'Tis irresponsible."
"The greatest power of all is the ability to walk away."
Wide eyes snapped up. Shirou pressed his advantage.
"I never freed her, Saber. And she never freed me. We freed ourselves. We recognized that we were powerless. 'Someday, someone will appear who will free you.' I was talking about you, Saber, not me. I only helped Artoria reach her own conclusions. And what she's doing now, all this? The scabbard? Bargaining with the Counter Force?"
Yes, he enjoyed teasing her.
But more than that: everything he'd ever done had come from a place of greed. A place of desire. It was just as he told himself, all that time ago: his ideals were fake. He wanted to help others because he associated the act with one man's tear-stained smile.
And that was okay.
As long as he recognized the truth beneath the facsimile, as long as he understood the mirror was cracked and the goals fake, he could press forward. Because what he cared about now was not Britain or whatever mission Alaya hid from him.
Shirou had the once in a lifetime opportunity to save the one girl - the one friend - he'd never helped.
That wasn't to say he wouldn't save as many as he could. The dream was beautiful; the dream was impossible.
But his goal? His personal mission to see Saber again?
"Everything she's doing now comes from a place of greed, Saber," he explained. "That's who she is. She tried to save her kingdom. She did her best, and that's all that matters. With that behind her, she's indulging in what she wants. She's being selfish."
That was no longer impossible, and Shirou wanted to jump for joy.
...
"But... but even if all that is true, Shirou..."
Arthur balled her fists in her lap. Her cheeks puffed up.
"Rin... Rin is still prettier than I am!"
...
"Saber?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Would you like to know a secret?"
"A secret?"
"When you weren't around, Tohsaka sometimes called you Baeber."
...
Was that steam? Could ears do that?
Artoria cupped her chin, nodding to herself.
"Oh, that's good. That is very good."
Planet: Earth
Year: 20XX
Location: Classified
Chaldea Security Organization
"Know this: you cannot fight them."
The Wizard Marshall's voice blared over the base's intercom. Ritsuka rubbed his bicep - the injection site, the medicine he'd received that was, supposedly, necessary for survival in that strange place.
In the Land of Steel.
"The TYPEs, the Aristoteles, do not operate on Gaian logic. They do not - will not - make sense. Their actions will seem impossible. And though they are your enemy, they are not your target. Your weapons will not injure them. Your Noble Phantasms cannot destroy them."
Six hundred Servants, one hundred teams, stood ready to deploy all across Chaldea. It was beyond the system's maximum capacity, but somehow they'd done it. Various team leaders watched whatever display in range; all were linked to Zelretch's speech.
"Still no Bedivere?" Fujimaru questioned.
Da Vinci frowned. "The Throne denied his summoning. His Heroic Spirit is quarantined."
"It can do that?"
"Under extraordinary circumstances, yes, but this is the first time I've ever seen it done."
Merlin hummed a happy tune.
"'Twas necessary, 'twas necessary! Think nothing of it, dear Fujimaru!"
"Your mission is simple: protect your Master while he attempts to contact this man."
A grainy image filled the screens. An armor-clad man stood against an orange sky; in his right hand was held some sort of exotic weapon, something no Servant had ever seen.
"His name is Ado Edem. He is sought not for any perceived strength, but rather the knowledge locked away in his mind. He is the only known being to have vanquished an Aristotele. He holds the greatest secret in the world. The key to our survival."
More pixelated frames, frozen in time, of a world destroyed and an apocalypse fought. Mechanized war machines dueled with eldritch monstrosities. Thick, smokey particles hung heavy in the air and on the ground. Blood red skies tinted the dead land shades of orange and brown. Abandoned weapons and shredded bodies replaced long-faded flora and fauna.
"In this world, you will be at your weakest. There are no legends here. The people do not remember you. Gaia is dead. The mana is gone. Have faith in yourselves and each other. That alone will be your strongest asset in this world."
The line went dead. Zelretch turned to Fujimaru.
"The floor is yours, young Master. I will transport the army at your command."
He swallowed his nerves and grabbed the microphone.
"You've all received your assignments. For this operation, Noble Phantasm usage will be unrestricted. You are to use your abilities at your discretion, for whatever reason you see fit. Team leaders are to stay in contact with each other and myself at all times. I will not babysit you - I have full confidence in all your abilities. This is a preventative operation. We deploy now not to correct a disparity, but to stop one before it occurs. The situation warrants it. We wouldn't have need of you all if it didn't."
He took a breath. Mash squeezed his hand.
"I thank each and every one of you for assisting Chaldea in this manner. We rayshift in ten seconds."
The Knights of the Round formed up around him. The Babylonians and Egyptians would oversee the army; his focus needed to be on their strange contact.
...
Once more into the breach.
"Keep in touch, da Vinci."
She flashed him a calming grin. "Of course, Master."
Zelretch tapped his staff on the floor.
Ritsuka Fujimaru blinked.
They hurdled through the smog-filled air.
g̴̡͝x̶̧͑ģ̵̈l̵̥͝s̶̪̈́k̷̲̿f̷̟̌b̵̰͊g̸͓͌m̴͔̚ả̷͇ḳ̴̏d̵̞̒u̴̖̚f̶̹̊k̸͕͊e̸̢͛m̶͜͝ś̴͜l̶̨̔d̴̻͌j̸̱͠f̴͍̾f̸̻̑h̴̯̅s̵̬͌k̵̳̂
What—
"SHIELDER!"
Mash grabbed him, rolled, lifted the shield.
s̵͍̻̓ḿ̴̪̪g̸̰̞͊i̷̞̪̊h̸̬̓ͅr̵̬͌͛͜a̴̦̘͝l̴̰̃̕s̵̖͎̍̈j̴̘͉̏̕f̶̱̮̋g̴͍͗̈́j̷̳̲̐̚s̷̢̹͌͋i̵̦̋̒e̵̪͌̈́k̵͓̪̂f̷͎͉̍n̶̩͋f̶̭̥̕h̴̭̄f̵̘̲́̉i̷͎̹̐͠ă̸̛͕̠l̸͍̝̎͆ẃ̶̼͕̽m̴̙̾̀ṛ̴̏j̶̢͈͗g̵̯̾u̶̪̥̚ś̴̢k̵̪̣̃̇s̷͇͌h̶̫̾̎f̸̰̼̆u̸̼̩͗͘
"LORD CAMELOT!"
A black beam swept the sky.
His ears rang, his vision blurred, something heavy clogged his lungs.
j̵͇̳̙̋̈́̎O̶̗̘͂̽͐ȩ̸̺̼̏͝j̵̙̗̘̐̂f̷͇͇̌̀̏n̴̙͈͓͂D̶̮̋h̶͉̆̿̈́f̸̹͗͗͝l̷̤̭̋̈́J̷̘͌͌ḛ̵̞̓ÿ̶̯̯́̀ͅK̷̳̺̅͐͒a̵̛̲̗̤̓̚n̷̯͍̻̎͘g̴̼̥̥̕b̴̢̟͘͠ͅȞ̴͕̪̃a̷͔̺͍̕o̴̜͇̠̽̃͒r̷̞̻̈́ḧ̷̞̪g̶̛͇b̵̭̖̖̒͒a̵̙̰͆̑͜͝l̶̠͂͆̏Ì̷͇̲ḟ̶̓͜b̶̢̗͖̎̔ŕ̸̻h̵͒ͅe̷̤̋̚i̸͔̬͒̕â̶ͅl
Half the Servant army - vaporized.
ḡ̴̗̚h̵̟͑r̵̭͌ũ̶̻s̵̠͓̋͂l̵͙͐̔ä̶̯́͘k̷̭̯̚f̶̫̌n̸̛̝̎g̷̫̥̒̚g̴̣͘b̸̘̆͝ê̵̘͘h̶͉̃s̵̾͜ó̸̭̋à̶̯̙͊l̴͙͗z̴̡̊ņ̵̧͒f̷̢͓́͝b̷͓̖̍͛ǵ̶̥s̶̛͚͉j̵̨̝̏̉ẓ̸͚̂͛h̸̝͙͌f̵̜͆̎n̵̦̔ŝ̵̨
In the distance, a lone shout.
"EA!"
A crimson spiral. Howling wind. Muffled shouts, world spinning—
k̵̲͊͌f̴̪͈̉̄i̸͙̽ŕ̸̥̓l̸͚̃w̶̛̩l̷̠̾̓Z̸̩̹̑h̶͍͛̐f̷̢̯́̚n̵̙̱̓͝D̴́̏͜h̴̙̥̒f̴̗̏̋k̸̹̽̈́r̷͖͑l̵̪̇̉G̴̪͇̈́̀b̷͜͝t̸͍̱̉͠ủ̵̩̳M̷̘̾g̷̬͑ľ̵͍̄r̴̜̮̎͂j̴̙͌ͅA̸̠̗̕m̴̯̃̒͜e̸̟͐͜k̸̜̳͋̀ǧ̷̛̗ĵ̷̡̰̄A̶͓̖͑̓ĺ̵̘̩ë̴͉k̶͉̰͂g̴̼̳̏̒j̴̖̖͝f̸̝́ǰ̵̙ą̴̭͂l̴̺̖̀̕f̴̩̍̕j̵̟̥͗͘g̵̬͗
"THERE! THE CASTLE! WITH HASTE, QUICKLY!"
"Clarent Blood Arthur!"
"Excalibur Galatine!"
G̸̡̓͠n̴̮͘U̷̯͜͝͝f̴̘̈́ò̴̺̝t̷̩̓͠l̵̞̾ȁ̸̤ļ̶̩̌K̴̜̖͌́z̴̰̋̕f̸̟͊̔K̶̜͇̊̀Ȁ̶̳͆͜B̵̳̘̀̌F̴͍͑Ṉ̸͊̀e̷̤̩͆j̵̡̄̍f̸͍̘̄̃g̷̮̟͋̎j̶͓͐d̴̢̤͋͠G̴̝̲̎̓H̴͎̀E̴͈̅U̸̦̗͛Ě̴̺H̸͚̱̍H̶̨̦̃͂F̶̝̩̏̕
The Cross.
Ģ̴̨͕͕̤͍̭̖̌H̷͍̮̾̏̃̉͛̀R̷̡̗͈̱̈̾̓̾K̴͎̗̰̯̔͌̿̓̾̌̚͜Ȅ̸͈͙͓͓̅̈́̂̆ͅO̷̗͆Ā̷̡̪̎L̸͙̞̄́̂̒̑͑͛̐F̶̪͚̩͇̖̀̅̏M̷͔̖̫̫̣͎̣̿̐̇͒͑͒̓G̶̫̏̈́̀͊̓̈́̚G̴̰̺͕̀͂̏̅̍́̍͠Ĝ̵̗͛̔̑͘̚͝͝G̸̟̤͔̥͍̔̅͒̀̈́̾͝I̵̞͙̼̙͚̩̮͂̀̈̽̉ͅF̶̡͎̻̼̲̽H̸͍̖͛̌́̀̀͝G̵̺̘̬̱͍͈̺͐̅̕͜͝L̵̡̛͚͉̣͔͔̬͙̽̎̕̚Ä̶̧̲̤́̓̉̔̎Ļ̵̯͚̬̯̜͛̀́̿͜Ả̸̡̨̝͕͔̪̰̍͗̅̍̐͋I̸̻̺͍̭̹͙̣͕̓͝G̴̡̨͕͖̥̍̋̈́̀̚̕G̵̡̛͍̖̲̞͎͍̈́̿̄H̶̰̭̪͚͔̻̄͆͌͗Ş̸͈͇͍̑͆̽̄N̶̬̖̟̔̈́̎̂̄͊̊Ģ̶̻̻͚̘̇̓̈́̉B̶̢͈̬̘̼̰̈̃̉̊͗̕S̴̙͓͓̣̳͇̲͊͒̎̋̚͝͝͝J̸̨̡̠̺̟̫͐—̵̮͍̯͔̖̘̥̐̇̏
Theoretically, the plan was simple: find the Lady of the Lake; inquire about Avalon, the Excalibur-Caliburn hybrid, and the changed Reality Marble; perhaps stay for snacks; resume the journey to the Tower.
"I've the keenest sense of deja vu, Saber."
But there's an old saying that goes 'no plan survives first contact with the extraterrestrial eldritch horror'.
Or something.
"By the gods," Arthur hissed. "What is that?"
"Another scout," Shirou drawled. "Pain in the ass, to say the least. Wish I knew where they came from. Would make our lives a bit easier."
"A scout of what, Shirou?"
"An invader. Probably the reason I'm the way I am currently. Take the Grail, ramp up the stupidity by a factor of a thousand. Called an Aristotele, I believe. Heard it referenced during some of my Guardian deployments, but this life's the first time I've had to actually deal with it."
"Oh, marvelous. Just what we needed. How do we vanquish it?"
"Excalibur."
...
Yeeeeaaaah... he expected that look.
"I'm serious, Saber. From what I understand, the thing is alien. That's why your sword exists, correct?"
"You mean to tell me the one time I might fulfill the sword's original design, I do not have it? Have I offended Gaia in some way? Am I no longer with her grace?"
"I wouldn't go that far. I could try projecting it again."
"'Tis a Divine Construct!" she sputtered.
Artoria shrugged. "He did it the first time we fought the Crystal."
"That wasn't her sword, though," Shirou grunted. "Think it was Arthur's. Male Arthur's."
She tilted her head. "Is there a difference, Saber?"
He shrugged. "Hell if I know. Seemed to work well enough."
"Excalibur's function should not change, no matter its appearance or the timeline," Arthur noted. "If you were able to project it back then, Shirou, you should be able to do it again... provided your Reality Marble does not cause an issue."
He felt fine. Had access to all the materials recorded, detected no issues with any of the copying or projection mechanisms. Only issue was...
"That's the thing - last time I projected it, I had Merlin helping me. She fed me the image. I can still see it in my mind's eye, though, so I think I can manage. Where's Vivian, Saber?"
"Beyond the crystalline forest. I fear for her safety, Shirou."
"...You mean she's within the Crystal's territory right now."
"Aye."
Shirou muttered a string of curses.
"Who is this Vivian, pray tell?" Artoria asked. "She must be of some import if the silly Crystal harasses her so."
Arthur scowled.
"She is one of the Fae, and Excalibur's guardian. Vivian watches and guards the sword in its periods of disuse. No one aside Merlin should know her location, technically, though I know due to it being my history."
The helmet muffled Shirou's sigh.
"From what I understand, these Aristoteles aren't intelligent. They act on instinct alone. Still, it would be unwise to assume its presence here is a coincidence. We've seen it only at the locations related to the swords; either it's drawn to their magical signatures, perhaps out of some sense of hunger, or it considers them a threat to be eliminated. We'll need to deal with it regardless."
Artoria saw his plan, plain as day. She glared.
"I shan't let you be bait again, Saber!"
"It worked last time, did it not?"
"If by 'worked' you mean 'worked to make Artoria's heart falter', then aye!"
He ignored her rebuttal and instead turned to Arthur.
"Could you watch her for me, Saber?"
She crossed her arms, huffing. "You are infuriating, Shirou."
...
"H-Huh?"
"I am your Saber. You are supposed to let me fight in thy stead."
"You... do know I'm a Grand at the moment, correct? Stuff like this is why I exist in the first place."
Never approach an emotional argument from a place of logic. Arthur looked away, petulant.
"Hmph!"
His attention shifted to Artoria. She'd mirrored Arthur's pose. Arms crossed, eyes closed, chin tilted.
"Hmph!"
...
"I'll be careful?"
"Hmph!"
"Hmph!"
Why did no one ever trust him to handle things alone? He didn't understand. He had a good track record!
Shirou counted off on his fingers.
"I'll be careful. I'll do my best to avoid injury. At the first sign of trouble, I'll regroup at your positions. I'll provide regular updates. To be safe, I won't use the blade works."
...
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
Finally. What kind of Grand-class Servant needed approval to do his jo—
He grabbed Artoria and bounded. Arthur moved with him; a massive crystalline stalagmite ruptured the ground they stood on a mere second ago. Shirou clucked his tongue.
"Tch. Guess it got tired of waiting for us."
Caliburn appeared next to Arthur. She blinked, took it with a small grin. Kanshou and Bakuya greeted Artoria with flashes of magical lightning.
"Artoria, Saber, find Vivian. I'll buy you time."
His Master poked him in the side.
"No bones of thy swords, mister!"
His eye roll went unseen.
"Understood, Master!"
The party separated; the Crystal focused Shirou, not the Pendragons, and it gave the two women time to move and strategize.
"We must find the lake promptly," Arthur urged. "Vivian would have submerged herself if she sensed danger. Gaia protects her, but I still fear for her safety. She is a guardian, not a combatant."
Artoria frowned.
"You said she holds Excalibur, aye? Could she not use it to defend herself?"
"She is far too committed to her role to do such a thing. Vivian is an agent of Gaia's will. Her singular purpose is to declare a potential wielder worthy or unworthy. As far as I know, it has chosen us and no one else."
"Not even Saber?"
Magical conflict assaulted their ears. Explosions toppled trees and shredded underbrush. A Merodach copy clashed with a shimmering harpoon; a Gae Bolg volley parted the clouds with their explosive payloads.
"Divine Constructs should be beyond his ability to project. As Archer he once told me he could summon a copy of Excalibur at the cost of his own life. At the time I thought him bluffing, though now I am unsure. His bond to Avalon may deem it possible, though I hesitate to say he could wield the true original. 'Tis one of my many questions."
They ducked, jumped and weaved through the forest, haste in their steps, though it appeared unneeded. Not a single crystal attacked them; the entity's attention was directed utterly at Shirou.
That little tidbit did not go unnoticed. Arthur sighed away her misgivings, even as they barreled into the grove.
"Why does it let us pass? Is it not after the Lady? 'Tis awfully strange."
Artoria chewed on her lip.
"'Twas like that before, as well. When we approached the Sword in the Stone, the Crystal devoted its time to battling Saber. It let me run without so much a scratch."
Something burst from the lake. A woman halfway between mortal and divine gasped and coughed, clawed her way to the water's edge. She clutched a sheathed sword as though her life depended on it.
"You should not be here, thy grace! I implore thee: depart at once!"
Arthur's shoulders slumped with relief. She sprinted to the Lady of the Lake.
"Milady! You recognize me?!"
"Gaia's domain extends far beyond the simple boundaries of this realm, child! But... nay, we've no time for idle talk! You act the fool, my king! You know not what you do!"
The King of Knights recoiled, as if slapped.
"Wh-What do you mean? Have I caused offense in some way?"
Vivian's jaw dropped. Sheer terror cut deep stress lines through her impossibly picturesque features.
"You... you truly do not know, do you?" Her free hand traversed long locks. The Fae looked ready to break down. "Oh heavens, oh heavens..."
Her visceral reaction twisted Arthur's stomach a hundred times over. Never before had she seen the Lady of the Lake so overcome.
"Milady," she pleaded. "I must know what ails thee. We've come to help."
Vivian shook her head back and forth, near hysterics.
"You stumble into fate's trap, King Arthur! All of this, everything that has happened - Merlin taking Arthur, Alaya's attempts to divert the Grand Saber's course - all of it is the World's attempt to stall the inevitable! It fears for its life! We are not supposed to be here! No one is supposed to be here! This timeline is not supposed to exist! The World avoids its formation at all costs!"
Artoria dropped to her knees next to them.
"What do you mean? We need details, Lady Vivian. Please!"
The Fae clutched Excalibur tight against her chest.
"Heed me, for there is much you do not know. The Grand Saber is deployed twice in the Greater History. The first time fragments reality into the multiverse. The second converges it! The Spider ignores us all because it must! It is an animal backed into a corner, and the Grand Saber is its hunter! It knows what approaches! It knows the events before they come to pass! It is trying to ambush him!"
Artoria leaned closer. "Why does it fear him?"
"Because that is their fate! Time is a closed loop, child! It has happened once! It shall happen again! All is as it is foreseen to be! The Spider's demise is not how his legend ends!"
That world's Avalon and Excalibur visibly shivered in Vivian's grasp, as if they expected something yet to come.
As if they answered a call.
Horror descended onto Arthur. She whirled in Shirou's direction.
The Crystal and Grand Saber fought their calamitous war high above the treeline. Tendrils shattered. Blades broke. There they dueled, two titans far beyond the mortal realm.
Avalon's light burned through his helmet's visor. Vivian's whisper seared her mind.
"It is how it begins!"
Planet: ?
Year: ?
Location: ?
Alert:
No data available.
"Senpai? Senpai?!"
"I'm—ngh!—okay! I'm okay! Knights!"
The world shook.
"Gawain lives!"
"Lancelot lives!"
"Tristan lives."
"Mordred stiiiiill kickin', woo yeah!"
Ritsuka stumbled to his feet, dazed.
"Merlin is here, too. Anyone? Anyone? No? Very well!"
The entourage lived. They'd made it inside the castle prison.
"Where's the army?"
Gawain scowled. "Dead or scattered, Master. I daresay we've been routed."
He clutched at his head, both to stop the spinning and to focus on one of his many Master-Servant connections.
"King Gilgamesh? Are you there?"
...
No response.
"It shan't work," Merlin sighed. "Mana is foreign to this world. The signal cannot traverse. We've only our prana, it seems."
"Then we'll have to manage. Stick together, let's find this guy and get out. Da Vinci, do you have us?"
"I'm still here, Ritsuka, but the signal is choppy. Whatever's in the air on your end is interfering with the spiritrons."
A small blessing. They'd make due.
"Can you guide us?"
"I can try. The castle is complex. SHEBA can't make heads or tails of the thing, but it's detecting a powerful signature of some sort coming from deeper within. It's not prana. Head out your room and take a... a right, I believe."
They followed her directions, to be met by the clang and thud of boots to crystal. Muffled voices followed; Ritsuka ducked behind a wall and directed prana to his ears.
"The sky, you say?!"
"The thirteenth prophecy! Word for word, I swear! An army from beyond!"
"Do the Seats rally? Do they know?!"
"The Cross holds their attention! We must alert them at once! The Exodus awaits, just as the High Spark said!"
"Go to Edem! Quickly! I'll find Galat - he's yet to leave!"
"Aye!"
Their footfalls grew distant; Ritsuka released the breath he held.
"Da Vinci, did you get all that? The one who mentioned the target - can you track him?"
"I did, but I can't pinpoint his signature. It's... gods above, what are these readings? Ritsuka, be on your guard. Those men you heard - their signatures behave almost like a... a blackening of sorts, but far more distorted."
"Wonderful," he muttered. Then, to the knights: "Weapons up! Be ready for a confrontation, we may have to fight our way out of this!"
Per da Vinci's directions they maneuvered their way down cramped hallways and militaristic corridors. No decorations or signs of leisure greeted them; everything lining the crystalline walls held murderous purpose, whether it be an informational terminal to better facilitate the act, or some strange, futuristic weapon to carry it out.
These were a warlike peoples.
"Da Vinci, who are those soldiers?"
"I can't tell you, Ritsuka. We have absolutely no information on wherever it is you are. The file is blank. Not even a name or date."
"You misunderstand," Merlin interrupted. "SHEBA pulls its analysis from beyond time and space, but the 'beyond' no longer has access to this reality. The World maintains no presence here. Gaia is dead. One human remains, and through him Alaya survives. That single human was our entry point. He is the only entry point."
It hit Ritsuka like a truck.
"So the Wizard Marshall is...?"
"Aye. He is attempting a rescue, so we might secure our threshold here."
Lancelot frowned.
"You said 'one human', wizard. Then who were those voices we heard?"
"They are the Liners - monstrous beings who have transcended their former humanity through science, biological engineering and dangerous amounts of zealotry."
"Zealotry?"
"Words cannot describe it. Thou shalt see soon enough."
The castle trembled beneath the weight of some unseen force, a foreign apocalypse against which all things suffered. Sirens blared. Metallic groans and shrieks echoed from the upper floors, wherever they may be. Ritsuka saw no stairs, elevators or anything of the sort. The hallway seemingly twisted into infinity. Nothing here made sense.
No logic. No emotion. Just madness, and the death of all things.
More voices from the corners.
"It assails the World Trees! The Second Seat is evacuating the citizenry as we speak! They require air support!"
"We're on it! Tell them the Fifth is pursuing the otherworlders - Galat will see it done personally!"
"Understood, be safe!"
"'Otherworlders'?" Tristan muttered.
Gawain's grip tightened around his sword's hilt. "They've heard of us, methinks."
"If this place is so thoroughly cut from the Greater History, that cannot be."
"Aye. Something foul is afoot here."
Something pungent and rotten wafted from around the next turn. Ritsuka gagged.
"Ritsuka! Don't move! This... this reading—!"
"Da Vinci?"
"It's the size of a man, but... but the intensity - it rivals a nuclear weapon! Whoever it is, they're a walking bomb!"
Only the most severe of Noble Phantasms could match that output, and their owners were always Grands or something more sinister - daemons, Beasts, and the like. For them to encounter such a signature so soon...
Merlin readied his staff, his expression steeled, and Ritsuka's heart fell to his stomach. The wizard muttered two words.
"Ether Liner."
The party gathered their focus and rounded the corner. A solid crystal door, the first of seventy-eight, obstructed their path forward. A scuffed armored warrior of soot and olive stood guard there, reading a well-used leather bound tome. Dozens of bookmarks denoted passages of interest; if it was a personal copy, the figure clearly favored it.
Everything about the man screamed 'disrepair', as if he had neither the time nor energy to maintain his person or belongings. His armor, a strange collision of past and future: cracked and dented. His book: scuffed and dirtied, frayed at its edges. He stood like a man uncaring, a man broken, and what little energy he seemed able to muster he directed to the frenzied eagerness with which his finger traced the book's words.
They saw no visible skin, no hints of any former or present humanity. Some sort of futuristic knight, belonging to two ages long separated.
And the Knights of Round Table despised him immediately, for one simple reason.
"State thy name!" Gawain snarled.
This Ether Liner's armor, coloring excluded, looked just like the Knight of the Sun's.
The man glanced from his book. Their numbers recorded, potential identifies profiled, a strategy devised.
"You face Tine Galat, First Knight of the Fifth Seat, loyal servant of the High Spark's will."
The fifth seat of the Round Table. Sir Gawain's place.
Tine Galat, Galatine.
The original thudded to the front, every nerve ablaze.
"How do you know of us and our organization?"
The doppelganger flipped to a passage well studied. He cleared his throat.
"As stated, starting at the seventh line of the Angel's thirteenth prophecy! 'And if despite your best efforts hope at last leaves you, look to the skies and utter a prayer. Against all odds, Alaya may send to you an army from outside time and space, from an organization called Chaldea.'"
...
The man straightened his posture.
"'If this day finally comes, you are to seek a young man of black hair and blue eyes, whose name is Ritsuka Fujimaru. He will have a red tattoo upon his right hand.'"
The black helmet shifted. Ritsuka backed away, covered by Mash.
"'He will be protected by the woman Mash Kyrielight, the Shielder, noted by her pink hair and purple eyes.'"
Merlin took a slow breath.
"And so it at last begins..."
"'They will come with the Servants, heroes from across the alternate ages, in which our people and our hope still draw breath. The young Master Fujimaru will know of a magical technique called 'rayshifting', through which we might have a chance at survival. I urge you all to do what you must to live on and outlast this calamity. May reason and compassion guide your path.'"
He snapped the tome shut, placed it with religious reverence into a pouch strapped to his thigh.
Tine Galat, sixty-sixth inheritor of the Cornish knight Gawain's seat at the Round Table, took a single, titanic step forward.
"It is my glorious honor to, on this day, begin the Exodus of our people!"
His feet spread, his knees crouched, his armored hands came together at his right hip.
And the Ether Liner began to chant.
...
...
...
...
"I am..."
Every hero has a legend.
"...the bone of my sword!"
Fate/ess
"Steel is my body! Grain is my blood!"
This rule has no exceptions.
"I have created this blade..."
An alien energy.
A path again followed.
As he instructed, so very long ago.
"...over a thousand times!"
Hardbreach - 3
"Unaware of loss!"
From the armor's chinks and gaps: the Grain.
The ruined Spider's maleficence.
The poison with which they fought.
"Nor aware of gain!"
The Grand Saber's myth spans one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine years.
From AD 506 to AD 2505.
"Have withstood pain to follow the Angel's Notes!"
It is the tale of one man's failure, and of the generations of survivors he taught and inspired.
"I have no regrets!"
It coalesced.
Merged.
And took shape.
"This is the only path!"
The one legend disallowed from the Throne's records, it is an acknowledgment of annihilation, futility, extinction... but also beauty, perseverance, hope.
They who refuse to give up. They who stand in spite of their imminent destruction.
They, whose bodies are made of swords.
They, whose minds are made of steel.
"So!"
Only with the power of a TYPE.
Only with its blood.
Guided by reinforcement and alteration.
Dented gauntlets separated.
Between them a blade.
A demonic sword.
"As I pray!"
To honor their guardian angel, his Liners would survive.
The Grand Saber's legend is called the Overcount.
Inescapable, inevitable, it holds special prominence to the Counter Force, for the events therein are synonymous with entropy.
It cannot be defeated.
It cannot be avoided.
Death always comes.
Everything converges here, in the period at the end of the multiversal sentence.
The World turns to ash.
The blades litter the wasteland.
The humans become monsters.
His Reality Marble made real.
The Land of Steel.
The warrior Tine Galat, so ordinary among his cohorts, drew from nothingness his Knight Arm.
In his hands:
A bastardized, dysfunctional replica of Excalibur Galatine.
"I am the High Spark's..."
The Ether Liner charged the Chaldean line missile-like, ORT's blood his fuel.
SPARKS LINER HIGH
"...GREATEST WORK!"