To say the magus was confused would be an understatement of monumental proportions. He had certainly expected many strange things when summoning his servant, especially in the berserker class. He'd heard the stories of the black knight, super nurse, and a small woman in a wedding dress. But he still hadn't been prepared for the man in front of him.

Part of that had to do with his expectations of a heroic spirit looking imposing or otherworldly in their stature. But he had somehow summoned this slightly taller than average man in a blue work shirt, jeans, work boots, and a prosthetic hand. It wasn't even a young man, it was some sixty year old person. In fact he couldn't even see a weapon aside from what looked like some sort of shotgun. His scanning and increasing disappointment were interrupted by the servant speaking up, " Names Ash and I'm guessing your pencil-neck is my master."

The magus raise a hand to his throat in a mix of confusion and indignation. 'My neck is an average size, if anything it's slightly thicker.' The servant seemed to pick up on his masters distress and openly chuckled, well openly laughed. The master briefly considered whether it would be worth it to burn one of the precious command seals in order to gain some respect. A glance at the slightly overweight servant laughing at his perfectly average neck size confirmed his resolve. He started to channel energy into the seal when the servant spoke up again. "Whoa, Whoa, Whoa there. Slow down a minute there hombre, there's no reason to burn something like that. I'll just stop poking at your neckline….or lack thereof."

The mage forced himself to take a deep breath and lowered his arm, despite his servants…...aggravating tendencies. "So you got any liquor here, I'm a bit thirsty." the servant commented, throwing open a cabinet and searching through it.

Never mind, his servant was an asshole. It wasn't like he expected to win this war, but he at least hoped to better his family name. Sadly with a berserker like this nothing like that was going to happen. He guessed this is what he got for trying to go without a catalyst. Hopefully he could just worm his way farther into the war by playing a cowardly game, so basically just what he did to move up in the clocktower.

Two days. They had made it two days without alerting or attracting any other servants attention. It had taken a great deal of patience and will power, not to mention the drugs, beer, and cheap food he bought to keep his servant occupied. Seeing it all go away because he had to the post office pissed him off a little. At least he had figured out what two of the servants are; Assassin was Hundred Face Hassan, and the lancer was a jailbait version of Elizabeth Bathory.

….Oh god, he just used the word jailbait. His servant was rubbing off on him, and in the worst possible way. He should have used a command seal to make his servant shut up, or not do drugs, or not want the shittiest fast food possible.

But his complaints, endless as they were, could wait until his life wasn't directly in danger. He swept his eyes over trying to get an idea of the servant they were fighting. It actually wasn't that hard, given that there were roughly a hundred people in black combat gear. Now maybe there was a chance that they cou-"So why exactly are you bunch of groupies ganging up on us."

The master couldn't help but run a hand down his face. His informant in the Clocktower had told him some information, and he was easily able to remember that insulting them was a bad option. Now if he could smooth this over there was a chance they may get some sort of parlay or chance to escape. One of the figures spoke up, " We are Assassin class servant Hassan of the Hundred faces, and-"

"Wait, did you just refer to yourself as 'We'-"

The group was thrown off by berserkers' confusion, though the master wasn't surprised, just disappointed. Hassan answered," Yes, we represent the multiple identities of Hassan-"

"Oh good, just wanted to make sure you weren't like legion or something, But what's with the getup. Don't exactly remind me of assassins, more like some of the girls I pa…..wooed at the strip club."

The master could feel the palpable hatred in the air, but he couldn't help but role his eyes in exasperation. Berserker really couldn't keep their thoughts to themselves, though it was somewhat of a good point. The relevance probably came from a history he didn't know. But the failure of his history education was now the least of his issues as the assassins swarmed down on them.

He had a good run, and maybe reincarnation was a thing and he could get another chance at life. But sadly with this failure of a servant at his side there was no way he survived. It was a sad last thought to have in his head, but as the assassin descended there was no time.

With the cracking sound of a gun and garbled sounds of pain, he quickly realized that he was still thinking. He opened his eyes and caught sight of the rest of the assassins pausing for a second as berserker chuckled. He turned around and caught the trailing smoke of the gun barrel, but his eyes quickly locked on to the sudden absence of the prosthetic hand. Rather the replacement of it with a chainsaw. This was really the point the master gave up, but the next words certainly didn't help his mental state. "Alright you screwheads...this here is my boomstick and you are about to get very intimate with her if you all don't back up."

There was an arrogant smirk on the berserker's face, and his posture was still incredibly relaxed. While the master found it interesting, the assassins found it instigating enough to descend again.

And somehow the master found himself staring in awe as his servant turned this battle into something closer to a meat grinder. The gun flashed again and again with startling precision, the erratic and athletic movements of the assassins were being read and countered. It seemed like he was at ease dealing with quick movements and even multiple opponents at once, especially as he ducked out of the way of an attack from the side and slammed the butt of the gun into the attackers head before throwing him into another opponent.

Also surprisingly effective, in the most brutal sense, was the chainsaw arm. It made it dangerous for any of the assassins to get to close lest the risk being bisected, or in the case of one unlikely assassin trisected. It gave the master some small glimmer of hope, but it was quickly dashed as one of the newly impaled assassins, a rather large one, clasped it's hands around the stalling blade and pinned the berserker in place.

Several of the assassins leapt forward, but it turns out hope wasn't lost. Berserker proved it was somewhat intelligent and detached the chainsaw from it's arm leaving just the stump, but also empty air for the assassins to hit. The master was also now able to see a plethora of open wounds covering his servants body, but none of them seemed to slow him down. Though as soon as that thought crossed his mind, a blade was driven into his shoulder.

Berserker deftly blew the face off the servant, before spinning the gun and using it like a club to stun the servant who still held the revving chainsaw in it's chest. That assassin fell to the ground and berserker slammed his work boot down hard onto the servant's face. A deep crunch sounded before the berserker retrieved his chainsaw.

He turned to face the remaining assassins and with a face covered with blood,more wounds than originally seen by the master, and this arrogant violent smile said," Hail To the King, Baby."

'I have no idea how, but here we are.' Somehow they were part of the last four servants standing, not that they did a whole lot of work. They dealt with assassin but apparently the caster had dealt with rider, and the saber had removed archer...along with half an apartment complex. Knowing that, he was certainly a little worried when it came to sheer power difference. Though berserker didn't seem so worried since he was halfway through his second bottle of cheap whiskey, it also helped that he had fully healed up.

There was a brief flare up of magical energy which got both the attention of berserker and the master. Berserker meandered over to the edge and peered out over the city, "Seems like the witch is going to town over there."

The master couldn't help but nod and peer through his binoculars as he tried to get an idea of who was fighting. Turns out that his eyesight wasn't that good, and he knew he servant wouldn't care that much so there was no real way to find out. Given the magic output it was a solid guess that it was a caster, but with how servants worked it could be some sort of noble phantasm. His attention was snapped away when berserker spoke up out of the blue,"Not to alarm you, but this is kinda an issue."

"What do you mean, what could be a bigger issue-"

The master trailed off as he made it over to his servant and was able to see the approaching issue. Namely two servants and their masters marching into their tower, and given the subtlety of his servant….they weren't getting away without a fight. In that moment the master felt his age advance as berserker just picked his bottle up and took a swig. Berserker suddenly spoke up," So….mister master, you got any real plan cause I am not looking to die again today."

The master felt his eye twitch, but schooled his expression," Well given the sheer power that the saber servant possesses, and the fact that they seem to have an alliance with lancer, our best bet is to use the environment to our advantage. So we need to get off the roof, now please."

"Could I not just use my Noble Phantasm or whatever?"

The master spun to face him with confusion evident on his face. Normally you can guess the phantasm, but given how he had no idea who this servant really was that was pointless. He also had assumed that the noble phantasm had something to do with the chainsaw hand. Especially with how berserker had….you know….gone all Texas Chainsaw on the Hassans. He snapped out of his annoyed state when his phone buzzed with an alert telling him that the servants were already moving up the building. "Is it going to bring the building down with us on top?"

"It shouldn't," Berserker rescinded non-committedly, but he continued when he saw his master's annoyed glare," It's effects are kinda up in the air, but the longer it lasts the worse it'll get."

"S-Sure," The master responded, honestly confused as to what phantasm would get worse the longer it lasted. Even more so that a berserker would have a phantasm like that.

His confusion only grew as a book solidified out of thin air and fell into berserkers hand. The servant let out a heavy sigh as he turned to book over, "Is there anyway we don't have to use this exactly, now that I think-"

The servant was cut off as a surge in magical presence appeared about five floors below them. A stare from his master told him to get on with it, and so he did. His working hand flipped the book open and he began the all too familiar process of reading from the book.

As he read the master would have to admit that even he felt a little scared with the dark pressure that suddenly appeared over the tower. It only intensified as berserker continued to read, and it didn't go away when the servant closed the book. "What-What was that?"

"That is the book of the dead, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, and a constant pain in my ass."

The master was beyond confused. Both at the fact a HEROIC servant had such malicious artifact, and secondly that a berserker had this magical artifact. His confusion didn't wane as there was an explosion of glass echoed from roughly half the windows of the building. The feeling of being watched appeared and he suddenly felt trapped. On the other hand, berserker was chugging the rest of the bottle with an annoyed expression.

Really made the master wonder how this Noble phantasm would affect the war.

Saber didn't know what had happened. Their master had managed to parlay a treaty with lancer and their master, and both had agreed to go after berserker. It was less of any sort of grudge or dislike, and more so just the fact they were the one servant they knew nothing about. Obviously it was strong enough to handle assassin, but they weren't able to figure out who it was. So the best option was to remove the piece they didn't know, and they had conveniently trapped themselves on top of the building. After they had worked their way up with literally no resistance it was suddenly all going wrong.

Suddenly a dark feeling had settled over the area, intense enough to make even them worried. The worries proved reasonable when the glass of the building exploded and something slammed into saber with ungodly speed. It slammed them through one door, and another, and another, before finally being stopped by a wall. The servant managed to quickly get it's blade around and dispatch it quickly, but the cries of the childish lancer told him it wasn't over.

He rushed back and saw that both of their masters were being beset by these strange creatures. They were almost like undeads but they seemed to be much more aggressive and judging by how one of them was attacking without a head. Wait...suddenly saber was tackled from behind by the creature who was missing roughly half their body.

The noble phantasm may be an option but it would likely damage the skyscraper. More interestingly was the question of why a berserker had a noble phantasm that summoned this horde of undead.

The master couldn't help but be impressed. He had finally bothered to ask the history of his servant, outside of their combat history of course. Part of him didn't believe any of the story, but given he could here the whispers of the 'deadites' as well as there cries of pain. He would consider himself convinced. He still wasn't at ease though since berserker had been forced to kill a few of them that rushed from the stairwell. The masters confusion was broken a little when berserker stood up and said," Probably a good time to get this thing to shut up."

The master remained quiet but let servant open the book and continue talking, "If I leave it any longer we might have to deal with the tree's….ugh."

With that Berserker went quiet and began flipping through the book before stopping at a specific page, "Alright then, With these words I end the power of the book or something like that: KLAATU BARADA NI-nickel, no….nicodemus...oh, NIKTO."

With that word there was a sound of a whirlwind and screaming souls, an incredibly disconcerting mess, but the pages of the book spun before the book slammed itself shut. Berserker calmly picked it back up and the book faded away into the ether. The servant looked rather proud of themselves, but that quickly ended when the saber servant exploded through the open door. They were bellowing something fierce about dishonor and unholy abominations, but that all quickly ended with a sound from the shotgun.

Saber was forced to dodge but it left him vulnerable for an attack from the chainsaw. It was blocked but Berserker put its power to use and knocked the saber off balance. Then he feinted with the chainsaw making the saber prepare for a high strike, when in fact the attack was a work boot to the groin. The master normally would be disappointed that his 'heroic' spirit fought like this, but he was more just surprised that an attack like that worked.

Saber stumbled back, but berserker gave him no room to breath by firing the shotgun at the helmet. The armor seemed to block most of it, but it stunned him even more, letting berserker push him even more off balance. A panicked cry alerted the master to the presence of sabers, though it's master was covered in scratches and wounds. He turned back just in time to see sabers leg take a shell to the thigh, getting the new master to yell and begin saying something with an arm raised. He vaguely recognized the motion and with pure instinct he grabbed the nearest object and pitched across the roof into the opposing master stunning them. It helps that the item was one of the empty liquor bottles berserker had been drinking so it had a bit of heft. Though the master was suddenly stricken by confusion, why hadn't they just cast a spell to interrupt. And then it hit him that berserker was having far too much influence on him.

He turned back to the fight to notice the final move being executed, and out of habit he turned away. He'd had enough nightmares for one week.

Somehow, by the grace of fate itself they were part of the last two servants standing. And even more crazy was that his failure of a summon was directly responsible for two servants being eliminated. He wanted to say three, but those deadites had...devoured lancers master removing her from the war. It was not something he wanted to think about, and asking berserker for details just made him create some flimsy excuse followed by him entering spirit form.

Now the duo was heading towards the area that was literally pulsating energy. Mostly based on the assumption that the caster servant was still around. He shivered a little just thinking about facing off against that servant. They may have been responsible for three servants getting eliminated, but the assassin elimination was based on the lack of info assassin had about berserker. The elimination of lancer and even saber had been due to a combination of location and one hell of a noble phantasm, mostly cause it didn't let saber activate their noble phantasm. That had been partially planned and partially luck, but at this point he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Though it was worrying that they don't have any of those advantages in this next fight.

This meant it would come down to which servant was stronger, and while he didn't doubt his servants strength the prestige of the caster class made him worried. Even more so because the servant eliminated another in straight one-on-one combat.

He snapped out of his reverie as berserker solidified next to him outside the leyline. There was a tense silence before berserker spoke up," Whatever goes on...I wanna say it's been groovy."

The master nodded, agreeing with the sentiment despite the wording. Berserker had turned out to be one hell of a servant, and his advancement in the clocktower is all but assured. A small part of him regretted the deaths of the other masters, but really that was what one signed up for. They proceeded into the area and were immediately met with a heavy dose of magic permeating the air.

Thankfully caster made themselves known very quickly. A bug eyed man with a collar that was far too big, it looked like it was swallowing him up. The sudden noise of a chainsaw revving to life caught his attention, and then he noticed the sharp glint in berserkers eyes. It was something that hadn't been there in any of the previous fights. Normally it was this playful arrogance but never outright seriousness. It was admittedly a little worrying.

"That's a nifty book ya got there bug eye," Berserker spoke up.

Caster just laughed before saying," A pretty little thing, quite similar to yours~"

A growl came from berserker as it spun the shotgun with what could only be described as malicious intent. Caster was still babbling on, but it was very clear that berserker was not in the mood. It also showed the full extent of the mad enhancement, which had previously been relatively tame. Aside from when he was fighting, then it was on full display.

The master snapped back to reality when the shotgun roared to life, forcing caster to narrowly dodge. Of course then it all went to hell.

Strange creatures began to crawl from the shadows as caster merely let loose a laugh full of insanity. Berserker however seemed to be at home in this chaos with the chainsaw tearing through the servants with what was essentially practiced ease. Issue was that berserker was still amassing damage, while caster sat back and began to weave his magecraft.

The master decided that this was the time, and sent a surge of energy into the seals. It wasn't much but it should power him up a bit.

Berserker visibly surged with strength, and put it to use by by bisecting two of the creatures and getting an opportunity to fire a shot at the caster. It was dodged again but it broke the servants concentration. Berserker also managed to charge forward tanking a few hits, but closing the gap by a few more feet.

Then it all went wrong, a secondary flood of the shadow creatures poured out overwhelming berserker. Then caster surged with power and flew towards the master. To his credit he remained calm and through down a small spell generating a cloud of dust. All that did was buy him some time, but hopefully he could use it.

He kept dodging, but he was quickly being maneuvered towards the shadow creatures. There was nothing he could do besides keep dodging and be thankful that berserker was keeping the creatures busy.

That thought immediately ended when a spell tore into his calf robbing him of his movement and sending him to the ground. It wasn't lethal by itself but the looming psychopathic caster made him think this was the end. He wasn't too upset about it, hell after the initial summoning he expected it. But some small part of him still hoped something crazy would come out to-

Caster screamed as a a familiar chainsaw tore through the chest of caster. It lifted him off the ground and continued to tear towards his head. He turned his head, still not use to the gore.

After the revving stopped he looked up and was greeted with the sight of a one armed berserker. The missing one seemingly lopped off at the shoulder with the chainsaw. And out of nowhere, covered head to toe in blood, berserker smiled and said, "Groovy."

And the master couldn't help but laugh.

Berserker Class Servant- Ashley "Ash" Joanna Williams

Noble Phantasm: Fear The Deadites, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis

-Summons the deadites into the world letting them rage and attack all things in a mile radius around the book. Ash has no control over the deadites and they are actually hostile to him, but it's nothing new for him. The phantasm ends when Ash says the words "Klaatu Barada Nikto"...assuming he remembers the phrase.