DISCLAIMER: I do not take credit from the Fate universe and its characters. The rights and credits go to the original authors.
Read the notes in the first chapter if you haven't done it already.
This is my very first story. I'm confident in my grammar, but if there are any mistakes, then let me know and I'll try to figure out how to fix them as soon as I have time.
Hope you enjoy.
FATE/Oppression
-Arc I-
Chapter 5
Planet: Earth
Date: May 15 2020
Location: Holborn (London - England)
(======)
Artoria stepped out of the car with a determined look.
The streets of London were silent and empty, a big contrast to the immense traffic and the countless number of people that usually occupied the city during daylight. But it wasn't a surprising thing, actually. It was the middle of night. Ordinary people had already gone to bed, and most businesses, stores and shops were closed for the night. They were alone right now; and they didn't have to worry about maintaining spiritual form to not reveal their presence to civilian and those who didn't know about magic. They could act freely for a while.
Artoria went to the center of a large pitch with a firm step, her armor creaking and making metallic sounds with every step that echoed on the asphalt of the street, observing her surroundings with an attentive eye. Her emerald green eyes darted through the silent streets and buildings with morbid caution. Bevidere and Gawain, faithful as ever, followed her close as she moved further and further away from the car that had brought them here, to the great capital of the country that long, long ago she herself had ruled as a King. She decided it was best to not dwell on this thoughts.
Lord El-Melloi II got out of the car after them, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a tired sigh. Rin and Gray popped their heads out of the windows. The black-haired man watched the three Servants with narrowed eyes as they studied the surroundings.
"This is the place," he said, his voice as serious as ever.
The King and her Knights looked around for several seconds. For as much they expanded their senses and their perceptive abilities, they still couldn't perceive any presence around them. However, a trace of prana was still present in the air. Artoria was certain of it. She could feel it, perceive it faintly; near a manhole on the right side of the main street. Her senses were extremely sharp. A dragon Core had this effect on people.
She moved towards the manhole, her eyes narrowed. "I can feel a faint trace of mana coming from here," she enunciated solemnly.
Lord-El Melloi joined her and the Knights with a deep frown. He then sighed slowly as he looked down the sealed manhole. "I see. The Police found several murdered bodies near this area, and the Clock Tower sensed the threat just hours ago. I guess this is it."
"Do you think the person responsible for the murders is hiding in the sewers?" Bedivere asked, looking at his King.
The woman did not answer. With a twist of her wrist, an invisible sword appeared in her hand, and with one swift, precise movement, she sliced through the metal top as if it was nothing but a piece of paper. The metallic cover was cut in two, falling into the sewers with a loud thud.
"I guess we'd better check it out," Gawain said, summoning his long greatsword.
Lord El-Melloi II nodded. "Gray. Rin. You stay here. Make sure no one follows us."
With a nod of understanding from the two girls, the three Servants and the Teacher from the Clock Tower entered the sewers without wasting time, ready to shed some light on the matter and track down their prey. The sewers were clean and empty, much cleaner than what they thought they would find, at least. It was a long series of corridors that unraveled in a dense network of tunnels and underground chambers that stretched across much of the Central City. Finding a rat hiding inside here would have been impossible for any human being.
But luckily for them, the King of Knights and her faithful companions were not human. They were Servants. And Artoria possessed a dragon Core, making her extremely sensitive to trails of energy and the perception of prana in the air. So, the Lord and the Knights decided to trust her istinct and follow her as she led them through the underground tunnels without even batting an eye. Her face was a mask of steeled decision as she walked in silence.
After five minutes, they reached some kind of underground anteroom, connected on either side by two sets of tunnels that thinned out even deeper into the network of tunnels. But there was a very particular detail that everyone noticed immediately: a mist. A strange, dense and white fog that hovered through the corridors and the great antechamber of the sewers. As soon as they reached it, Artoria and the Knights immediately understood what it was. The air and the mist were soaked with prana. This was the work of a Servant.
Lord El-Melloi II began to cough as soon as he inhaled the air, his throat buring. "D-Damn it," he cursed. "Sulfuric acid. This mist is cursed. It is made so that humans won't be able to pass through." His coughing fits were increasing by the second, so he pulled a vial containing a strange yellow liquid out of his pocket, and drank its content quickly. As soon as he was done, his fits of coughing stopped and the man could breathe again with a sigh. "Fortunately I had a potion that prevents the effects of poisonous gas. I always carry a couple of them with me when I'm on mission."
"This is no simple mist," Bedivere stated, looking around the fog with a serious expression. "It's a Bounded Field."
Lord El-Melloi II narrowed his eyes. A shadow lurked behind him. "What do you-"
Artoria widened her eyes. Gawain and Bedivere followed suit.
They reacted immediately. Gawain sprang hilself forward and shoved the man with one arm, knocking him to the ground just a second before a short, strange knife could sever his neck from his back. At the same time, Artoria shot forward like a bolt of light, sending a side sweep with her invisible sword into the air. There was a high-pitched yelp of pain and surprise, along with the sound of blood dripping onto the ground. Lord El-Melloi II rose from the ground with a tense expression as Bedivere stepped in front of him in a defensive position, his sword in hand and his eyes directed to the left.
Artoria readied her sword along with Gawain. "We know you're here," she stated, her voice cold and solemn. "Show yourself."
Ten seconds of absolute silence passed.
Then, slowly, a small figure slipped out of the mist that pervaded the sewers. The King and her Knights watched the new Servant with narrowed eyes while the human Magus clenched his fists in tension.
The figure almost had the appearance of a child. A white-haired girl with green-yellow eyes, with stitched-up scars on her face. Her upper body was that of a adolescent, while her lower body was more mature like that of an adult, creating an odd juxtaposition to her appearance. She donned a black vest, black panties and black stockings with pink shoes. Both her arms were bandaged, but only her left hand wore a glove. She had a purple oval-shaped 'O' on each of her shoulders. At the small of her back she carrieed a large number of sheathes that holded several knives with different shapes. As soon as she showed herself, Artoria and the others took a defensive position, preparing for a fight.
The young girl frowned, looking at the cut on her right arm caused by Artoria's slash from earlier. Her face made a sad grimance as she glanced at the newcomers. "You cut us," she spoke in a childlike voice, similar to that of a little girl. "What an awful thing to do."
Gawain pointed his broadsword at her, leveling a glare on her little body. "Are you the one behind all the murders that took place in the city during the last two days?" he questioned, his voice loud and firm.
The new Servant blinked for a second, her expression blank. She seemed to be deep in thought. Then, her lips parted in a smile that seemed almost... innocent? "Murders? We killed a few women two hours ago. Oh, and yesterday too! Yep, yep. Why?" she asked.
Artoria and the others stiffened. Lord El-Melloi II blanched. Gawain scowled with anger. "How can you admit such a crime without batting an eye?" he demanded, outraged. "Murdering people is wrong!"
The girl tilted her head to the side in confusion. "Is it?" she asked, sounding confused. "But we want to."
"Who's we?" Bedivere asked.
"We!" she exclaimed again, smiling with a large grin and jumping on her legs. "We kill and cut and shred! We want to return to the warm place!"
The King of Knights stared at her with a cold, solemn gaze. She could clearly see that this Servant was way different than normal. She already looked like a lost cause. Then, she pointed her sword at her, her eyes burning with decision. "Enough. You took the lives of countless innocent people," she declared. Her voice was neither angry nor accusatory. It was cold and icy, as if she was simply stating a fact. "Such a crime cannot go unpunished. It goes against the rules of the Holy Grail War. Prepare yourself, Servant, for today is the day your senselss murders will come to an end."
The girl tilted her head. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked. Then, suddenly, her childish behaviour disappeared, and her expression twisted into a cruel and insane grin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and cruelty, and the child threw a series of knives at the female King and the Knights, giggling wildly with a twisted face.
Artoria and the others diverted them with ease. But they quickly realized it had been a diversion. The little girl was gone, hiding herself in the mist as the sound of her gigglings echoed in the air from all directions. Artoria narrowed her eyes, moving close to Gawain and Bedivere and as they encircled Lord El-Melloi II to defend him from any possible attacks. The Magus was watching the fog as well with a careful gaze, his hand outstretched towards a pocket on his pants, serching for something.
"Bedivere, Gawain, protect him. I shall deal with the Servant," the King of Knights ordered.
They didn't like her decision. "B-But, my liege-"
"Worry not, Bedivere. I will deal with her in no time," she promised with a faint smile, her eyes never leaving the mist around them. Then, she jumped in the direction of the source of prana without a second thought, more determined than ever to put the enemy down.
Artoria landed in the middle of the anteroom, gazing around cautiously and paying close attention to the fog that surrounded her. She sensed a shift of air to the right, and moved quickly to block a rain of black scalpels that the enemy had thrown at her like flying projectiles. She used her sword to deflect them all effortlessly.
For a second, the little girl from before appeared behind her, holding four scalpels per hand for a total of eight and throwing them simultaneously. The blonde King didn't even blink, turning around swiftly and parrying them with unprecedented precision. The blades hit the ground with a metallic clang that resounded through the sewers for several seconds.
"Haha! You're pretty good!" the little girl spoke amidst the fog. "This is fun!"
Artoria glanced to her left, then her right. "Come forward and face me directly. Stop fighting like an assassin," she countered without emotion.
She ony laughed louder, even more amused than before. "Huh? How do you know?" she asked her.
"...what?"
The girl appeared to her right. Artoria spun around, sensing the danger, and slashed at her sideways. The white-haired Servant blocked the blow using two butcher's knives, her face twisted into a wide grin and her eyed filled with madness. "We are Assassin!" she declared. "Our name is Jack the Ripper!"
The King of Knights narrowed her eyes. Then, she used more force than before and forced the little girl to distance herself from her with a second slash that nearly severed her leg. The Assassin, Jack the Ripper, did a somersault in the air and landed a couple of meters away on a wall.
"Hey, hey, hey! Can you tell us your name?" she asked, giggling like a madman with her wide eyes and grin. "Tell us! Tell us!"
Artoria charged, delivering a very quick lunge. Jack's eyes widened, leaping out of the way just before the invisible sword could slice her in two. The wall was sliced in half after the blow. The little girl threw yet another series of scalpels, aiming at her face, but Artoria ducked under them and sprinted towards her once again, ready to assault the Servant with a series of thrusts. Jack glared, leaping into the air and hiding in the mist once again.
The blonde womand glared at the fog. "This is useless, Assassin," she stated. "You won't be able to hide forever. Face your end with honor."
"No way," she giggled "Mother doesn't want us to die yet."
From farther away, somewhere amidst the fog, the voice of Lord-El Melloi II made itself heard. "Mother? Who's your mother?"
Jack suddenly jumped on Artoria from a blind spot, trying to stab her from behind. The Saber reacted quickly, pushing her away with a very quick lunge that the Servant could not avoid. Despite her agility, the invisible sword cut Jack on her cheek, causing her to hiss in pain. But she didn't have time to do anything else. Artoria moved her other hand and grabbed her by the arm, throwing her away with precision and a firm motion. The little girl crashed against a wall of the sewers with a yelp of pain, and then she leapt off from another sword lunge that nearly severed her head.
"Why?" she asked, her voice frustrated as she leaped on the walls. "Why are you trying to stop us? Mother asked us. We're doing this for her."
Artoria studied the mist with an intense gaze. Then, as soon as she noticed something, the woman tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. She sprinted forward in a charge, swift as the wind, and accumulated energy in her sword. The spell that pervaded the blade, Invisible Air, began to generate a gust of air around the invisible sword.
"Wind!" she whispered with a burst of prana, and suddenly a gigantic gust of wind came from her sword, enveloping everything with a blast and a deafening noise. The sewers were instantly filled with the wave of blowing air, dispelling the fog thanks to the wind. And soon after that, in less than three seconds, all the mist that had blinded Artoria and her Knights up to that moment disappeared as if it never existed. The air became clean and visible once again.
Her emerald eyes glared at Jack. The small Assassin remained attached to a wall, with eyes wide and a stunned expression on her face. Artoria pointed her sword at her. "Last chance: why are you doing this, and who's your mother?" she asked, solemn and imperious. Her voice carried all her pride and her power, rising through the sewers like a solemn warning.
Jack glared, before breaking into an amused and insane laugh. "Mother is good!" she answered, sprinting on the female King with a speed worthy of her class. He reached for her like an arrow, trying to stab her in the arm. "Mother is strong! She sent us here! She told us killing is good!"
Saber parried her dagger with a decisive movement and an impassive look. "Then I guess you should be re-educated, child," she merely stated, punching her in the belly. Jack hissed in pain, grabbing Artoria's arm and twisting her body so that she could use it to jump away. Then, she leapt in the air and threw a series of throwing knives at her, using them as a distraction. As Artoria deflected them, Jack landed on the sewer ceiling, accumulating energy in her butcher's knives.
"We don't wanna! We're still hungry!" she giggled with a twisted smile, charging again with a quick dash from above.
Invisible sword met the strange-looking knives in a spark of metal, and the weapons clashed again and again. Still, the difference in skill was abysmal. Artoria was a top Servant. She was the proud King of Knights, one of the most renowned and famous figures in the world. One who had garnered legends over centuries and stories. Her power was enormous, as were her skill with a sword. Jack, on the contrary, was a young Heroic Spirit of only one hundred and twenty years. Even with the fame she garnered that gave her the necessary "monstrosity" befitting of a Heroic Spirit of the Assassin class, she couldn't hope to match a legendary Hero like King Arthur with such little history of her own. It was simply impossible.
Artoria parried all her strikes with little effort, and used her sword to fling the little Assassin away from her. Jack screamed as she flew in the air, more in shock than pain, and crashed into a wall with a loud explosion of debris and mana.
The Knights watched the scene with solemn eyes, their minds pervaded by memories of times long past. Times in which they had watched and witnessed many legendary battles of their King. Her fighting style, her power, her resolution. And now, now that they were seeing her power and strenght once more, now that they were witnessing her fighting abilities again with their very own eyes... they felt a small, hopeful smile curl their lips. They simply couldn't help it. It was too much. And a great feeling of hope, nostalgia and happiness began to fill their hearts at the same time. Because this... this was exactly like the old times.
And they had missed those times dearly.
But the battle wasn't over yet. Artoria watched with a solemn gaze as Jack rose slowly from the rubble. Her body was battered and filled with cuts, but she was giggling madly with her head bowed down to the ground. The sound of her giggles echoed through the sewers with an almost unnerving intensity. The Knights and Lord El-Melloi II stared at her in confusion.
"Hahahah! You're strong! You're strong! This is so much fun!" Jack the Ripper giggled, her body shaking in laughter and amusement. "And you're a woman! You're a woman too!"
Artoria narrowed her eyes. This child was completely crazy. What was she talking about now?
Jack snapped her head up and smiled, her face twisted with madness and cruely and rage. "If that's the case, yeah! If that's the case, we can use it! Mother will approve!" she declared, her childish voice more crazed than ever. "Mother will be proud!"
Neither Artoria nor the others had time to ask what she was referring to with that statement. Not even a second later, in fact, Jack readied her butcher's knives once again, bending her legs a little and starting to chant with a solemn gaze.
"This is Hell, Hell starts here," she intoned with a grin. "Let's murder it!"
"We are fire."
"We are rain."
"We are power."
Something happened.
While she was chanting, her blades suddenly started to pulse with energy, and her eyes changed from yellow to red. A strange, dark-red aura of malevolent and creepy prana began to pervade her body, so cold and dense that it was horrible to even stare at it. The mere sight of her was becoming more and more creepy by the second. Artoria had to repress a shiver of repulsion. As soon as she sensed the current of energy of the enemy, she had to fight the instinct to bend down and vomit.
Because she wasn't looking at a single, little girl now.
He was watching a mixture of roaring and creepy souls joined together within her.
"Let the slaughter begin…"
Jack grinned, releasing all of her energy with a sick, twisted grin. "Maria the Ripper!" she hissed, dashing towards the blonde King at top speed and aiming her flaming blades at the neck and abdomen to eviscerate her alive.
Artoria reacted on instinct.
With a sudden dash and unmatched speed, she charged in advance and thrust her sword into the little girl's chest before she could reach her full. Her speed and powers were still superior to her opponent's.
The Assassin stopped abruptly, spitting blood from her lips with a stunned face.
Then, her body exploded into a mass of fog and energy.
Artoria jumped back and stared with wide eyes as an immense mass of glistening and roaring souls began to coagulate on the spot where Jack had been since a moment before, filling the air like bolts of light shooting in all directions. They were screaming and yelling and wailing in rage and sorrow, crying to the heavens an horrifying moan that filled the sewers for several seconds.
The souls stirred, darting wildly in the air and screaming their fury with an horrifying screech. The sound of their screams was so loud that Artoria and the others had to cover their ears, leaping away from them in fear that something terrible could happen.
But then, in just a moment, it was over.
And the souls disappeared like they had never existed.
Silence reigned supreme. Seconds passed, followed by minutes. And yet, nobody dared to move for a long, long time.
Bedivere swallowed, his face relaxing when he realized it was over. "W-What was that?" he asked, sighing in relief as his King moved to join them with furrowed brows, her mind filled with questions.
"Those were undead souls," explained one of them. Artoria and her Knights turned to look at the solemn face of Lord El-Melloi II. He was paler than before, they noticed. "A collection of Wraiths enclosed within the body of a Servant. I... I've never seen something like this before. I saw some Wraiths, sure, but never so many." He sighed all of a sudden, reaching for a cigarette in order to calm down. "That Assassin, Jack the Ripper... she was a collection of resentment and hate that the souls shared among them, forming the shape of a human."
Gawain swallowed, looking around the underground tunnels with attentive eyes. "Is she dead?" he asked, voicing the silent question that still lingered in everyone's mind.
Artoria dissolved her sword, clenching a fist in solemn decision.
"We can't say for sure yet."
Planet: Earth
Date: May 15 2020
Location: Sky – Approximately 11.000m above South Dakota (U.S.A.)
(======)
The ride was going quite smoothly, in his opinion.
Shirou sighed, closing his eyes and trying to relax and sleep in his seat for the umpteenth time. They had been flying for three hours, and still he hadn't been able to fall asleep for the entire duration of the flight. This fact bothered him slightly. He wasn't tired, he didn't really need rest, but he would have appreciated a little nap. The fact that he wasn't able to do so made him think that something was wrong. For some reason, he couldn't relax during the trip. His instincts were telling him to stay awake, and they were rarely wrong. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.
The plane was packed with passengers. There wasn't even a single seat left, as far as he could see around him. The plane was packed from top to bottom, although it was hard to tell since the air was filled with a sheer silence interrupted only by the sound of the flying engine and the loud voices of the air line coming from the speakers connected to the cockpit. But there were dozens of passengers and hostesses who occupied the plane. So many that it was slightly uncomfortable for him to be cooped up inside a flying junk of metal with so many people. But he didn't care that much. What mattered to him was to get to his destination as soon as possible and continue his mission. The rest was inconsequential to him.
His golden-brown eyes glanced to his right. Mordred was asleep in the seat next to him, her expression placed in a bored frown even as she slept in silence. She kept her arms crossed as she slept blissfully, a trickle of drool dripping from her open lips. Shirou smiled faintly. She looked so innocent, so peaceful right now. Almost like a child. She was a child, actually. Homuculus grew much faster than normal humans, but their mental development was almost unchanged from that of a normal person. He knew that all to well. So, yeah... she was a full-grown and developed Knight, with great strength and power, but the mind of a teen. This simple thought made him smile further.
Iskandar and Arjuna sat farther back, a couple of rows seats behind them. The King of Conquerors was staring out the window with a thoughtful face, his boastful behaviour completely gone; while the Indian Demi-God stood in total silence, arms folded and expression devoid of emotions as he watched the people around him with narrowed eyes. Even without seeing them directly, Shirou could sense their tension in the air. They were tense and nervous. Just like him, they couldn't relax for some reason during this flight. Iskandar had never been able to remain so silent without a reason, and the newly added Archer had trained senses that were greatly developed. If they were feeling restless too, then his instinct was right.
Something was wrong.
Immediately after expressing that thought in his mind, something happened.
Shirou felt a tired and resigned sigh come out of his lips.
The entire plane was suddenly shaken by a powerful tremor, and a hollow, screeching sound began to resound in the air soon after. A sound almost similar to a howl. Then, with a deafening blast and a second tremor of the plane, a large explosion was heard coming from the cockpit, shaking the airplane entirely. The people in the seats screamed and yelled in panic, and even the hostesses walking on the corridor of the plane fell to the ground due to the tremors and the explosion. The air outside the plane pulsed with prana and energy all of a sudden.
Mordred woke abruptly from her sleep, blinking furiously with a startled expression. "W-W-What?" she exclaimed, looking frantically around her, her hand outstretched and ready to summon Clarent. "What the hell is going on?"
"It's simple, kid," Shirou replied, slowly rising from his seat with a solemn expression. "Prepare yourself. We are under attack."
The female Knight stared in shock for several seconds, but recovered almost immediately and moved to follow the God of War with a steady pace. Iskandar and Arjuna immediately joined them in the corridor, their expressions calm and collected even in the mist of danger. Around them, people and passengers were shouting in panic and terror, some of them even starting to run towards the bottom of the plane.
"I knew there was something wrong," Arjuna commented casually, undaunted by the chaos around them.
"Indeed. I too began to feel uneasy ever since we departed from the airport," Iskandar agreed with a solemn expression, looking around through the seats of panicked passengers, looking for the cause of the commotion. His red eyes were steeled in decision as they glanced all over the plane.
Mordred looked at them in confusion. "What? I didn't feel anything until now!" she exclaimed with obvious shock.
"Kid, you should really pay more attention to your surroundings," Shirou commented with a shake of his head.
They didn't have time to exchange more words. Suddenly, with a bang and a gruesome sound, the door at the end of the corridor leading to the cockpit was suddenly smashed from the inside, and the screams of the passengers around them began to get louder and louder. Shirou and his companions turned abruptly, observing with narrowed eyes the cause of the commotion. At the same time, for some reason, the plane gradually began to lose altitude. All of them realized instantly what was happening.
They were starting to fall.
But Shirou and his allies didn't panic, unlike the rest of the passengers. The warrior simply looked at the person responsible for this mess with a cold, emotionless gaze. To define it 'person' was wrong, he quickly deduced. The enemy was a giant gray wolf that surpassed over three meters in length, with its teeth bared in a snarl and his fur filled with black shreds of darkness and magic. Above his imposing figure, a man dressed in hunting clothes and a dark cloak that unraveled into several shreds of red sat on his back, holding a pair of twin sabers in his hands. But the most noticeable detail was that the man, strange as it was, was lacking his head. He didn't have a head, literally. He was a man without features and voice, with a headless body that acted alone in a decidedly disturbing appearance. And despite everything, his identity and that of his bestial companion were unmistakable. Shirou and the others could never mistake or confuse that particular signature of prana for anything, and for any reason.
"What the heck?" Mordred narrowed her eyes suspiciously, summoning her broadsword as Arjuna summoned his bow and Iskandar studied the strange man and the gigantic animal in front of them with a calculating gaze. Even she was able to recognize the abomination of nature that was standing before her. "A Phantom Demon Servant?"
"...seems like it," Arjuna agreed.
The Saber watched the beast with a hostile gaze. "How did he come here?" she asked in a low tone of voice. "We didn't feel any presence when when we got on the plane."
"He must have hidden himself inside the plane in spiritual form just before it departed, and then concealed himself from our perception thanks to his Demonic instincts," Shirou deduced seriously, his face a mask of calm. "Now I get it. That's why I was feeling unease this whole time. We had another Servant hiding in the shadows."
The four Servants saw the wolf snarl at them with a feroucious expression. Its eyes were a flaming blue fire as the beast glared at them with bestial fury. The man on its back, instead, didn't move even an inch. He almost seemed completely lifeless, if not for a few twitchs of his fingers.
Seeing the ferocious beast and its rider, the passengers began to panic. Those closest to the giant wolf left their seats and started to run away from there, heading towards the bottom of the plane. The beast ignored them, its eyes fixed always on the other Servants. Shirou and the others ushered the people through in silence, ignoring their terror and only ever watching the giant wolf and the headless man riding it. Trying to calm down the crowds and passengers was futile. All they could do for now was protect them from the enemy. They would think of a way to fix everything later.
Mordred glanced at Shirou, her focus never leaving their opponent. "How is this possible, Ruler?" she asked him with a confused hiss. "That's a Phantom Demon turned into a Servant! I saw a lot of them during my time. How could such a being be summoned? The Grail isn't supposed to allow that to happen!"
Shirou studied the beast and the Phantom riding it with cold eyes. "Those two are a single Servant," he deduced, observing them with attention. His expert eyes were rarely mistaken, if ever. A few seconds passed. "There is no mistake. Both of them are Phantoms, fused with each other in order to manifest as a Rider class Servant. I've already seen something like this before in my life."
"Are you sure, boy?" Iskandar questioned.
He nodded. "Positive. But now it's not the time to mull over this matter," he waved a hand, summoning a katana out of nowhere with a glow of green and red prana. "Whatever they are, those two killed the pilots and revealed their presence to civilians. The plane is losing altitude. At this rate we're going to crash very soon."
"Then we'll just have to kill them and stop the plane!"
Mordred charged, darting down the corridor of the plane with her sword raised and ready to strike. The wolf howled, flooding the plane with its bestial roar as more and more people screamed in terror. Mordred reached him with a roar, unleashing a series of thrusts aimed at the neck to kill the beast as fast as possible. However, to her astonishment, her attacks did not land. The headless man's cloak suddenly flapped as if it had come to life, and countless shreds of red moved in the air and blocked or parried all of the Knight's cuts and thrusts. Mordred gaped in shock at the scene.
The wolf roared and growled, leaping at the girl with jaws open and teeth bared, ready to bite. Fortunately for her, however, Iskandar moved promptly with a bellowing roar, summoning his sword and intercepting the attack before the beast could reach the target. Mordred jumped behind Iskandar to distance herself from the beast. The wolf bit into the Rider's sword with a furious growl, its eyes burning with a blue flame filled with rage and fury. Iskandar merely grinned with an amused expression. "Hmm. This fellow fights more like a Berserker than a Rider," he mused, glaring at the beast and its enormous strenght.
The man on the back of the wolf roused himself to life. In one swift movement, he raised his arms to attack the King of Conquerors with a series of slashes, but he wasn't fast enough. He had to suddenly deflect a series of arrows of light fired by Arjuna, and at the same time force the wolf to jump away from there, evading a side lunge from Clarent that nearly severed his leg. The beast landed on the left side of the plane, on top of several abandoned seats.
Mordred and Iskandar glared at the wolf as they retreated. "Tch. For a gigantic animal, that shitty dog is pretty fast," the Knight commented as she readied her sword.
Shirou appeared before them, his sword in hand and a determined expression on his face. "Iskandar, Mordred, leave the enemy to me," he ordered, his voice cold and determined. "You guys head to the cockpit."
"What? No way! I wanna fight too!" she protested.
The red-haired God glared at her, making her flinch under his gaze. "Do not be foolish, kid. The plane is going to crash any minute now. The King of Conquerors is a Rider, and you said you have a Riding Skill too. You guys are the only ones among us who can fly this plane and prevent a disaster. You must make it land safely as soon as possible," he retorted, as if it was obvious.
Mordred visibly hesitated, gritting her teeth in frustration. Iskandar put a hand on her shoulder. "He's right, Saber. We have another priority now, and only us can do this. We have to do the right thing."
Arjuna fired another set of arrows, forcing the wolf and his Rider to leap away from the corridor as they were about to jump on them again. They landed in the middle of the seats as people ran in panic, trying to get away from that hideous beast. The Indian Archer sighed. "Worry not. Me and Ruler will handle it. You guys go," was all he said, motioning for the passengers close to him to follow his direction, away from the enemy.
Mordred nodded, dissolving her sword as she made her decision. "Damn it. Alright. We'll handle the landing. You guys better kick that dog's ass," she yelled, running to the cockpit with a determined expression.
Iskandar grinned as he followed her promptly. "Play nice, you two!"
As soon as the they were gone, the wolf howled in rage, sprinting to catch up and stop them from rescuing the plane, but it wasn't fast enough. With a yelp of surprise, the immense animal plodded backwards, barely avoiding a lightning-quick horizontal cut from Shirou. The beast shot back, growling in warning and fury at the warrior who casually walked to stand between the corridor and its targets. Shirou wasn't intimidated by the beast's ferocious snarl, standing still with a solemn and cold gaze as he pointed his sword at the wolf. For some reason, the Rider on the wolf's back stiffened even without a head.
"You've threatened the safety of dozens of people by attacking this plane," the Ruler stated. His voice was low, devoid of emotion; but carried a distinct note of anger and solemnity that made the animal's fur raise despite its fury. "I can't stand by and watch as you threaten the lives of so many innocent people. Sorry, cub, but your crazy mission ends here."
The wolf howled in rage, glaring at him. Shirou observed its face with a cold, understanding gaze. In its eyes, Shirou could see a deep, limitless hatred burn like a flaming inferno. A hatred so great, so deep and strong that it was impossible to describe. What stood there before him was a beast that scattered hatred and hatred alone; with no love, no compassion for humanity or any other being. Mutual understanding and the likes were simply impossible.
It was nothing but a beast. A beast that longed for death and destruction.
And if that was the case, he would show it no mercy.
The wolf growled menacingly. Then, it grabbed one of the sabers from the Phantom Rider that rode its back with its fangs, pointing it at Shirou. Then, the beast jumped off the right wall of the plane, using its legs to launch into a spiraling slash. Shirou moved as well with a smirk. The wolf's dark claws and saber and the red-haired God's katana clashed fiercely in midair. Then, they clashed again and again. Shirou's skill kept the wolf's fangs from finding their mark, and the Rider kept him from killing the beast in a single move.
Shirou jumped away from another slash, landing next to Arjuna. "Archer, I cannot fight them here. It's too dangerous," he stated, looking at the beast-phantom pair with an emotionless mask. "I'll lure them out of the plane."
The Indian Demi-God nodded. "Go, then. I'll protect the civilians and keep them safe," he merely said.
Hearing this, Shirou grinned and did something unexpected. With one swift movement, he threw his sword towards the ceiling of the plane, hitting a safety hatch and destroying it completely with a blast. A powerful backwash of air was generated because of this, and the wolf below the newly-formed hole could do nothing but howl in anger as it was sucked away from the plane by the centrifugal force, shooting out of the plane along with his Rider.
Shirou took a step forward. "I'll see you on the land," he said, turning to the stunned face of Arjuna.
Then, with a single jump and without waiting for his response, he exited the plane trough the hole and found himself falling into the air, leaving the plane completely. The sun shone brightly above him, and the wind was blowing madly on his ears. Shirou looked around with a calm face and narrowed eyes as he searched for his target, his mind completely calm even as the wind roared in his face and waved his hair and clothes. He was literally falling from the sky, with no parachute or protection... and he didn't care at all. All he had to do was finding his enemies and kill them. That's all he cared about.
He found them immediately. The wolf and his Rider were falling a dozen meters below him, trashing and shaking furiously as they whirled through the air powerlessly. Shirou smiled, summoning another katana in his right hand and positioning himself in a descent position, shooting towards the targets like a missile.
The wolf rounded on him as soon as it saw him, but it was too late. Shirou crashed onto them like a living arrow, sticking his katana into the headless man's chest as the animal fidgeted and tried to bite him. The Rider trembled in pain, without making a sound, trying to hit him with his own sword despite the wound. But the God of War merely slapped away his saber with one arm like it was nothing, holding on his arm as they both fell into the air.
The Rider tried to react, but Shirou was way faster. There was no need to hold himself back against a mindless beast. So, with a mocking smile, he moved one leg and kicked the Phantom away from him, forcing him to let go of the wolf and freeing the katana from his body with a horrid sound. The headless man was thrown away from them, alone and without his mount, falling to the ground without even being able to scream, his body cut almost in half.
The wolf howled in rage and fury, spinning in the air and wriggling furiously to try to scratch and bite the accursed warrior who was now clinging to his back as he fell through the air with him. Shirou narrowed his eyes and punched the beast in the head, stabbing him in the back with his sharp blade; and the wolf howled in pain and roared his fury to the sky, trashing furiously.
Then, with a grunt of decision, Shirou pinned him with an iron grip and held him under his body, using it as a 'pillow' as they fell closer and closer to the ground. He could already see that they were about to crash on the top of a rocky mountain, but he wasn't scared. He had been through worse in his life. And besides, he wasn't actually in danger right now. In fact, just a few seconds before they could crash together on the land, Shirou used the beast's body as a living trampoline to jump away from the impact, leaping into the air with a backflip and dampening his fall thanks to the force of the jump.
The wolf landed alone with a mighy crash and a roar, while Shirou landed gracefully on his knee, his fall dampened by the jump. An explosion of rock and debris flooded everything, and the air shook for a couple of seconds from the force of the impact. The ground cracked, creating a small crater where the beast had crashed. And then, after ten seconds of silence, when the smoke and debris finally cleared, the view that appeared was quite gruesome.
Shirou raised gracefully on his legs, staring at the sight with a cold, impassive face. The beast laid on a small crater, wheezing and growling in pain in a pool of blood as it furiously tried to raise up again. But all the efforts were in vain. His katana still remained lodged in its back, preventing the wolf from moving. And after that crash, not even a powerful beast like this could remain unharmed. It was simply impossbile.
In a flash, just like that, the struggle was over. All that remained was eerie silence and the stench of blood in the air.
The red-haired warrior sighed, approaching the dying beast with slow steps. The headless Rider was gone, probably dissolved to dust even before he could crash to the ground. But the wolf remained, alive... and if it still lived, then his previous suspicions turned out to be true: the one of them in control was the animal. The wolf was real Servant, not the Rider. And now, it had been defeated.
Shirou kneeled in front of the dying beast. Above their heads, about a hundred feet away, the air hissed and the wind blowed madly as the big plane landed in the middle of a clearing at the base of the mountain, unscathed and without excessive damage.
The ancient God watched the mad beast with a frown. The wolf stared at him as well, its face calm and its eyes cold as he breathed slowly, resigning itself to its fate. Now, as Shirou watched him with a surprised face, he could see that something was different. The eyes. The eyes of the beast were no longer blue and filled with a burning flame filled with hatred… but yellow. They were back to normal. Back to yellow, just like any normal, common wolf's eyes. And when he realized this, the Ruler felt a hint of regret arise inside his chest.
He placed one hand on the wolf's shoulder.
'…you freed me, human.'
Shirou nodded. He could feel the wolf's thoughts inside of his mind.
'…this is the end…'
He nodded again.
The beast exhaled, long and slow.
'…I can see us… in my dreams. Blanca, myself, my cubs… all joyously running across the plains together… how? I though I had forgotten them… how… could I… forget them…'
Shirou narrowed his eyes.
'I… I could never…'
"You were controlled," the man realized. "You forgot your nature, your dream, and someone took control of your body and mind. You were not in control of your actions."
The wolf growled, as if to admit that he was right.
"Who? Who did this to you?" he asked again.
'I… don't know…'
Shirou sighed in acceptance.
'…human… you smell different…'
"I am."
He answered easily, but without adding anything. There was no need.
The wolf stared with tired eyes.
'…is it ok to dream? To chase again that… impossible dream…?'
Shirou watched the dying animal with a sympathetic look. He had been wrong. The wolf was not a thoughtless, mindless beast. It wasn't really him the one who he had fought before. That was a fake, an empty shell. It was a puppet. This was the wolf. He was a Hero. A Hero chasing a dream. An impossible dream, almost foolishly so. A dream that may only serve to make him more miserable, forever.
And yet… even if that dream can never be… there is no reason he cannot wish for it anyway. He lived believing in his dream, died believing in his dream, and fought believing in his dream. That's why he became a Hero and answered the summon. That's why he was recorded in the Throne.
That's why he was used and controlled, forced to act against his own will.
Now, there was only one thing he could say to this fallen comrade.
"It's ok," he whispered with a sad smile. "Close your eyes. You can meet them again... even if it's only just a dream."
The wolf closed his eyes, howling softly at the sky, thinking back to his time in the plains. The path ahead of him was long and winding, but the Wolf King would continue to walk it withouth hesitation.
Shirou patted his fur with a silent prayer.
"Rest well, Lobo, King of Currumpaw."
The wolf's body disappeared into a dust of white.
Shirou stared at the dust with a blank face, his mind filled with thoughts and emotions too too deep to be described. He had defeated a Servant. The very first Servant he was forced to fight in this war, and he was not in control of his acitons. This wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. He had to learn the truth behind this whole mess, as soon as possible.
And as he watched the dust of prana scatter across the sky, the memories of his past conversation with Gaia came to his mind once again.
. . .
"What's going to happen to them?"
The woman turned to watch him with serious eyes.
"Be honest with me, Gaia. What's gonna happen to them? With the Throne gone… what happens to the Heroes when they die?"
She smiled. It was a sad smile.
"They'll disappear forever."
He stared at her with an emotionless mask.
"Their memory will remain, but their presence in the world and in the existential plan shall be recorded no longer. They will be free, no longer recorded and bound to the will of the Planet. And, consequently, it'll be impossible to summon them again," she explained.
"...but will they have peace?" he insisted. "Will they have the peace they deserve?"
Gaia smiled. Another sad smile.
"I wish I knew this, Shirou. I really wish I knew."
. . .
"Ruler!"
Shirou was suddenly roused from his thoughts when he heard a familiar voice calling him from afar. The red-haired warrior turned in the direction of the voice, and his lips curled into a small smile right away. At the foot of the rocky mountain, about five hundred meters below his current position, the plane had landed safely in the middle of a large rocky clearing with no obstacles, without apparent complications. It seemed fine, and he could sense the people inside when he opened his mind. They were fine, despite everything. But he could also see his companions approaching him on Iskandar's chariot, flying through the sky at top speed to reach him. His smile widened as he saw Mordred jump from the chariot as soon as they landed a few meters away.
"Ruler, are you ok?" she asked as she ran to him, eyes wide and searching for the tiniest hint of damage. Arjuna and Iskandar approached him slowly right after her, looking at him with bewildered looks.
He exhaled a little sigh, smiling at the female Knight as soon as she stopped in front of him. "I'm fine," he reassured her, shrugging a little. "I didn't suffer any damage, really. There is no reason for you to worry."
The blonde girl glared at him. "Are you crazy? Jumping out of a flying plane and falling from the sky?" she retorted, sounding bewilderd and incredulous at the same time. "What the hell is going through your head? You could have died!"
He blinked in confusion, surprised by the sincere worry in her tone. She had never showed worry or 'care' for him before. Then, in response, Shirou burst in a little fit of chuckles and reached out a hand, ruffling her hair with a short laugh filled with amusement. Mordred blushed and stuttered in shock and embarrassment, removing furiously his hand from her head and glaring at him with a deep-red face. Iskandar openly smirked at the scene, while Arjuna remained silent.
"Kid, if a simple fall was enough to kill me, I wouldn't have done such a thing. So don't worry, I'm fine," he dismissed her worries with a smile full of mirth.
She stared at his face, fixing her ruffled hair with wide eyes. "Are you kidding me? What kind of Servant could survive a fall from the sky?" she exclaimed, incredulous.
"A very strong one," Arjuna replied, staring at Shirou with calculating eyes. "It's clear that your friend Ruler here is stronger that he lets on."
Iskandar grinned, wide and proud. "I can't help but agree with that statement," he said. His face was a mixture of awe, intrigue and interest as he gazed at the red-haired warrior as if he was a great enigma. "I knew you were stronger than most, boy, but to actually hear that you jumped from a plane flying over ten kilometres into the sky and survived without damage… that's quite the feat. I'm impressed," his smile turned more sly and amused as he narrowed his eyes, stroking his beard with a thoughtful expression. "This Shirou Emiya you claim to be... he must be a great warrior who hides quite a few tricks under his sleeves, is he not?"
He merely closed his eyes, hiding a little smile. "You overestimate me too much, King of Conquerors. I'm no such thing as a great warrior. Not even close."
"Modesty doesn't suit you, Ruler," Arjuna contered, his face a mask of seriousness. "I knew since the very beginning that you're stronger than you look. My instinct is never wrong about this kind of things."
The God sighed, trying to dismiss that discussion before he could grow more irritated. "I'm just a little bit stronger because I still possess my full powers thanks to my Class and my role. It's not something worth of such interest," he reiterated again, sounding almost disinterested. Then, his expression became more serious all of a sudden. "But enough of that. What about the people on the plane, instead? The passengers? Are they-"
"They're fine," Arjuna replied with a sigh. "Don't worry. The pilots are gone, but the others are ok. I just put them to sleep with a magical spell. Thanks to my Class Skill: Divinity, I was able to modify their memories and make them forget everything that happened a while ago. They'll think it was a bad dream when they wake up."
Shirou sighed in relief. Ok, good. That was fine. Great, actually. One less problem for him to pay attention to. The situation was already complicated enough as it was now. They had just been forced to fight a Servant inside a flying airplane, landed in the middle of nowhere, and lost their current chance to reach New York city as soon as possible. He had no intention of dealing with that kind of mess after all of this.
Iskandar looked at him expectantly. "And the Servant?" he questioned, asking for the obvious.
The warrior clenched a fist, turingin his gaze to the small crater on the ground with a solemn gaze. "...he's gone," he replied. He did not fail to notice how everyone's shoulders relaxed instantly after that. "They're gone. I dealt with both of them. I couldn't let them go after putting so many people in danger. I had to. And besides... I learned something very interesting from this encounter."
Mordred narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What is it?"
Shirou looked at all the three of them with a solemn gaze, his face utterly serious. "The wolf. He was being controlled," he answered.
Seconds passed, followed by minutes.
Then, slowly, Iskandar crossed his arms in the eerie silence that followed his statement. "Come again?"
"He was being controlled, Rider," the red-haired God repeated again, both his face and his voice completely serious about this. "He wasn't the one attacking us. Something had taken possession of his body. Something... or someone."
Arjuna narrowed his eyes, his thoughts running wildly. "Are you sure?" he asked him.
Shirou nodded. "I could feel his thoughts after the battle. He told me himself. And I know he wasn't lying either. He had no choice," he explained, completely sincere and serious as before.
"So you're saying that shitty dog attacked a flying plane and threatened all the passengers without really meaning to do it?" Mordred exclaimed, sounding skeptical. "Just because somebody took possession of his body?"
He nodded without batting an eye. "Yes. I'm sure of it."
The Knight sighed, running a hand through her hair. "...that's crazy, Ruler. Too crazy to be true. I find it hard to believe."
"Trust me kid. I too found it hard to believe when you guys told me that the entire Throne of Heroes had been released on Earth. And yet, here we are," he muttered sarcastically, sighing at the memory.
"Hmm... but who could possibly take control of a Servant?" Iskandar mused out loud, stroking his beard as he thought with a frown. "Only an extremely powerful entity could really accomplish such a feat. Or perhaps another Servant, even. Question is: how? And why?"
Shirou nodded. "That's exactly what I intend to find out," he merely said.
Mordred scoffed. "Yeah, easier said than done. We just survived an emergency landing in the middle of nowhere, saved a bunch of people with no memory and no idea of the situation, and lost our only way to New York," she declared, crossing her arms with an irritated expression. "Oh, not to mention that we have no idea of where we are."
The others winced at that. Even Shirou scratched his neck with a lost face.
Mordred stared at the Ruler with a raised eyebrow. "So... now what?"
For once, the ancient God didn't have an answer to the girl's question. And her complaining attitude wasn't helping him concentrate to think of a solution. Shirou just sighed, running a hand through his red hair under the inquisitive gaze of Mordred and Arjuna.
Iskandar, on the other hand, immediately went to his aid by bursting into his trademark laugh. Despite the tense situation in which they had ended up, his confidence and his lightheartedness had not diminished; not even a little. In fact, he seemed more amused and excited than anything.
"Come on, Saber. Don't be like that. It is precisely during the hardships and the most difficult moments that a true King must get up and regain his lost glory! No great feat is achieved without overcoming troubles and obstacles!" he declared loudly, raising his hands to the sky with a bellowing laugh. "We still have my Gordious Wheel, and we can use it to fly to the nearest town and-"
His speech was cut short abruptly as Shirou, Mordred and Arjuna decided to ingore him and turned to the right, their eyes fixed on something distant in the sky. Iskandar blinked in stunned stupor for a couple of seconds, confused by the strange reaction of the others, but when he heard a heavy and repetitive sound starting to echo in the air more and more by the second, he turned as well and gazed in the direction in which the others were looking. And what his eyes found was a pleasant surprise even to him. "Hoh?"
A helicopter was flying in the sky, right under the clouds, slowly descending towards their position. Shirou and the others stared at the flying vehicle with wide eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over them. The pilots of the helicopter had probably noticed the big plane parked in the middle of the mountains, and had decided to check what had happened. It was a good stroke of luck. One that they were not going to miss for any reason.
And yet, as the helicopter approached their position, their relief faded more and more, replaced by something else. At first it was confusion, then realization, and then a growing sense of solemnity and resignation.
Shirou studied the flying vehicle with narrowed eyes as it came lower and lower to the ground, now flying just a few feet above their heads. It was black, with a large red lettering that read 'Atlas' on each side of the helicopter. A heavy blast of wind hit them as it moved closer and closer, generated by the constantly moving propellers. The red-haired God readied himself without a single thought, his mind growing more and more cold and irritated by the second.
"This feeling... this is..." Mordred hissed, clenching a fist in tension.
"Indeed," Shirou merely said.
Arjuna sighed. "...it seems that our luck is the worst today," he merely said, summoning his bow.
"Heh! What are you saying, Archer? This is good!" Iskandar exclaimed, the only one among them who was feeling excited despite everything. His red cape was flapping into the wind with a great force.
Form the big helicopter, two towering figures launched themselves out of the flying machine, landing heavily in front of the four companions with a big crash. The ground shook and trembled under their imposing weight for three full seconds. Nor Shirou nor the others seemed to mind, however, nor they were scared. Their minds were focused on something else entirely.
Because for Shirou and his companions, there was no doubt about what kind of people they were.
Servants.
'This is just great. Two more Servants right after what happened before,' he inwardly cursed with a tired sigh. 'I want to retire…'
Still, his eyes couldn't help but widen slightly when he saw the two Servants who had appeared before them. To say they were strange in appereance was an understatement. Mordred was literally gaping, her jaw almost on the ground. Arjuna was petrified, his face morphed in an expression mixed with silent stupor and cold astonishment, while Iskandar only raised an eyebrow in confusion. Shirou just narrowed his eyes. He had seen far stranger things in his long, long life.
The first was a tall, muscular man with long black hair and a strange complexion. He wore a long leather robe made of animal skin, along with trousers and shoes of the same material. Also, he had white, blue and green tattoos all over his body and arms, but mostly on his face. It was completely covered by it, actually. He wore some kind of of strange crown on his head, with two buffalo horns tied to it, giving him a slightly menacing appearance. He looked, in all respects, like a redskin, a Native American from the old legends.
But it was the second Servant that impressed them the most. He was a tall, extremely tall man, with a muscular and robust body like few others. He was almost similar to Iskandar in proportions and height. He was wearing some kind of red and blue overall suit, with red gloves on his hands and some strange electric generators on his shoulders and chest. But the strangest detail of all – and, frankly, the most blatant one – was his face. He did not have a human face, but the head of a white lion instead, with a long, thick mane and sharp teeth bared in a snarl. No, actually, it wasn't a snarl. It was... It was a grin. He was grinning at them, for some strange reason.
Shirou raised an eyebrow in total confusion. 'What's with me and animals today?'
"What… the heck… is that…?" Mordred muttered, both her voice and face dripping with complete disbelief.
The lion-headed Servant chuckled slowly, gazing with bestial eyes at the group before him. "Fu...fufufu. Surprised, aren't you? As you should. It happens all the time," he then straightened his back, theatrically lifting his arms in the air, in a very similar way to the one Iskandar always used to do during his speeches. "Very well, I shall introduce myself! Servant Caster, Thomas Alva Edison! I am the great King of Inventors! Be proud to be in my presence, fellow Servants!" he roared, grinning in trepidation.
The others blinked. Then, they sweat-dropped with a blank expression. A strange sense of deja vu began to pervade their minds for some reason.
Only Iskandar widened his eyes, an excited glint gleaming in his red pupils. "Hoho? A King? A fellow King like myself?" he mused, sounding more and more like an excited kid staring at a gift than a proud King famous around the whole world.
...oh, no. Not another one like him.
"Are you stupid, Rider? Don't you see his face? He's a freaking lion-man!" Mordred exclaimed with an incredulous stare, her emerald eyes as wide as plates.
The new Servant stomped on the ground, raising his arms even more to the sky. "Do not worry about the face," he replied loudly, his tone unwavering ans he cried to the heavens. "This is America's symbol! That is all!"
Shirou and the others only sweat-dropped more.
The Servant next to the Servant called Edison sighed with a blank face. "Please, Edison. You're scaring them with your behaviour. Can't you see the worried expression on their faces?" he said, his voice soft and gentle, a great contrast to the powerful and menacing appearance he seemed to possess. "We should try to connect with them, make them feel at ease. Please, behave yourself."
"You are too soft, Geronimo! It's in the custom of our Country to do things in a grand way! You should agree with me!"
"It is best to make them feel comfortable before being more direct."
The God of War stared at their interaction with an impassive face, utterly confused.
Mordred was shaking in irritation. "…the heck? Is this a joke? What kind of voice is that?" she muttered, completely flooded by disbelief.
"Hush, Saber. Let them explain," Iskandar told her seriously.
The new Servant, Geronimo, smiled at them with an intimidating face. "Forgive my compainon's brash attidude. We have no intention of causing you harm, and bear no ill will against you, despite the odds and what you may believe because of the War," he reassured them with his soft, gentle voice. "My name is Geronimo, Servant Caster. And we would like to make an offer to you."
Mordred and Arjuna stared. Iskandar grinned with trepidation. Shirou merely arched his other brow. "An offer?" he repeated.
Edison smiled with his lion-shaped head. "Of course!" he roared, before turing to look at the helicopter flying above their head. "Come at once, my dear lady!"
As soon as he finished saying (or rather, roaring) those words in the air, the helicopter lowered further on the ground, until it landed on the bare and rocky soil of the mountain after a full minute. Once there, the propellers began to gradually stop and a person stepped out of the helicopter with grace and a solemn movement. Shirou and his companions observed her with indifferent faces and suspicious looks.
She was a woman – a young girl, actually – who could not have been more than twenty. A human. She had long white hair, crimson eyes and a pale complexion. She wore an elegant black uniform with orange-gold streaks, red stockings on her legs and black heels at her feet. Her expression was cold, and haughty, and solemn at the same time as she walked to stand in the middle of the two new Servants, staring at the four companions with a solemn and determined gaze. She wasn't an imposing person, definitely, but something inside Shirou's mind prompted him to beware of that woman. Even without knowing why, there was something odd about her appearance. Something odd about her in general. And again, his instincts were rarely wrong. But he would give her the benefit of the doubt, for now.
The girl glanced at Shirou and his comrades, then at the plane landed on the base of the mountain, and then smirked a little. "It seems that the sensors were right. The source of prana coming from the sky was indeed caused from a group of Servants," she said, more to herself than her own companions.
"Of course! My inventions are never wrong!" Edison declared with a laugh.
Shirou narrowed his eyes on the human girl. "I don't know who you are, but I'll tell you this: me and those who stand here with me are not resposible for what happened on the plane. It was the work of another Servant. One I've already disposed of," he declared, his voice cold and menacing despite the lack of hostility.
The woman visibly stiffened, staring at him in silence for several seconds. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she closed her eyes for a second and let out a sigh. "I guess that's true. No Servant would waste time landing a plane to safety if his goal was to kill someone aboard it," she admitted with a low tone of voice, crossing her arms. She opened her eyes soon after, staring at them one by one with her crimson pupils. "All the better. It's good that we caught up with you so soon, then. Servants with common sense are extremely rare to find, you see. And we need all the help we can get."
Shirou tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing at her words. "Caught up with us? Help?" he repeated. "I'm sorry, but I'm in a bit of a loss. What do you mean? And more importantly, who are you?"
The young woman simply simled, offering him a little bow of courtesy and placing one hand on her chest in a teatrical manner. "My name is Olga Marie Asmleit Animusphere," she introduced herself with utmost seriousness. "Current head of The Atlas Institute, one of the three major branches of the Mage's Association, also known as the Institute of Aggregation and Analysis."
Mordred raised a brow with indifference. "That's a mouthful," she commented boldly. "You should change it to something more short."
The white-haired woman's smile thinned just a bit. "We're working on it. You can call it Atlas, if you'd like," she merely replied, rising up from the bow. "We are the main branch of the Mage's Association that controls and rules Magecraft here in North America."
Shirou nodded in acceptance. He was already expecting something like this. Gaia had warned him about this kind of things before the summoning. "I see. And what, pray tell, does this Atlas Insitute want with mere Servants like us?"
Olga Marie Animusphere smiled, her face a mask of cold and determined decision as she stared at the four Servants in front of her with a strange glint in her crimson eyes.
"About that… we would like to invite you for a little chat, if we may."
CODEX PLANETAE
[COUNTER FORCE] Database
Taken from the notes of Alaya
Subject: Tyr [-Shirou Emiya-], #1 among the Ancestral Heroes
Alias: God of War, Humanity's Liberator, Grand Hero, God-Slayer, First Hero of Humanity
Description:
Tracking down and recording Shirou's movements when he returned to Earth after the disappearance of his master was not an easy task. However, the [COUNTER FORCE] allowed me to bypass this problem thanks to its connection with my sister. The reason is quite obvious: a God never goes unnoticed in his travels on the Planet. This goes for the present as well. Nature itself can perceive a God's presence: the trees whisper of his passing, his presence beat upon the ground with each of his resounding footsteps, and the animals feel their connection to him as he comes closer. After all, as it is widely known: a God is the very same personification of a natural concept born from the human mind. Hence, it was obvious that Nature itself would react to Shirou's presence, even to this day. He is, in every sense of the word, a living aspect of Nature. That explains why Shirou and the Gods before him were able to control the Planet, or talk to animals, or change Reality itself with their own will.
Attempting to fully chronicle the battles that Shirou Emiya has fought and undertaken after his second appearance in the existential plan is impossible. It was simply impossible to count and remember all the enemies he had to face during his travels; least alone record all those fights with the [COUNTER FORCE]. I'm not just referring to the War against the Gods. Divine Spirits, Demonic Beasts, Elementals, Ancestors... during his journey on Earth, the God of War always fought countless opponents in order to increase his experience, accumulate power, and expand his knowledge. He was a literal machine of War, always fighting non-stop in order to reach his goal. Watching his countless efforts back then, it was truly inspiring. I suspect it was during that time that my more... personal feelings for him began to develop despite my original intentions and my best efforts. It was simply impossible to ignore such an existence. Not even I could look at such an unbeatable warrior capable of facing anything or anyone and remain unaffected. Not when his true side was so kind, so selfless and brave despite his thirst for battle. He was simply too perfect to be true.
Maybe that was the reason why he failed to reach his happiness in life.
Being an Immortal leads one to be drawn to their inner desiers far more than those of a mortal, despite how paradoxical such a thing may seem to outside viewers. Humans usually think that having a limited lifespan on Earth would inspire them to grab hold of their life, to enjoy it to the fullest and have their way while they can. And I cannot deny that, considering numerous occasions and events, this is sometimes the case. But Immortals are different from humans, and Gods far more than any other race.
Shirou was born a God. He was born as the personification of "War". He was destined - destined - to be an entity that strived for battle. He was the personification of humanity's resentment towards the Gods, and as such, he could not escape his Destiny. He had to fight. It could almost be said that the concept of -fighting- was the very same reason he was born. It wove itself through the core of his person. It filled his lungs, pumped his heart, and flooded his veins like an inevitable truth. That's why he was, ans still is, so strong. As long that the concept of "War" still exists in the world and in the thoughts of humans, he will never lose his powers. And the fact that his actions served to give life and inspire so many Heroes after his "death" is the warranty of this. And because of this, he will always remain the strongest among the warriors.
After all, the Heroes that came after him… they're simply a consequence. A shard, a mere fragment of his own legend. The very same concept of "Hero" was born because of Shirou's actions. He became its first personification because of his actions. And nobody, not even the Gods, could ever take this away for him. Not after all that happened. It's impossible. Both the concept of "War" and that of "Hero" are simply too embedded inside his soul to be taken away from him. He's the First Hero, and he shall always remain the strongest. Both me and my sister will always make sure of that.
Every battlefield belongs to him. Every weapon belongs to him. He forged them, created them, with his blood, his life, his endless ambitions and desire for battle. Caledfwlch, Gáe Bulg, Rhongomyniad, Caladbolg, Fragarach, Nægling, Hrunting… all the countless weapons that were forged by him, those that he gave to humanity after his death, those that were designed later in history from the original ones, and even those that the King of Heroes gathered inside his own treasure… they belong to him. He forged them, named them, created them. All of them, his by right. By authority both Divine and Human. He even stole Gungnir and Mjölnir from Odin and Thor once, and he was the one who discovered the legendary Ea hidden in [ERROR – DATA CORRUPTED] and brough it back to the world. It happened during his battle in [ERROR].
His Forging Skill, his Tracing technique and the way in which he created his weapons will never be taken away from him. Just like the true ownership he holds to the weapons he created and that other Heroes found and mastered in their life.
But I shall explain all of this in a future note. I'm digressing too much.
Next chapter is the end of the first Arc.
I couldn't make Shirou visit America and not include some 'local' Servants while we're still here. It's simply something I always wanted to do. Geronimo and Edison are the first example of this. Hessian Lobo too (I changed his Class from Avenger to Rider in my story, don't ask me why.) The presence of Jack the Ripper in London is also another example of this idea that I always had in my mind.
There is a reason behind the location where the Servants are summoned in my story. And also behind the fact that some of them are summoned to their homeland (like Artoria or Jack), and others not (like Mordred and Iskandar). It will be revealed near the end of the story.
Don't ask me if Jack is still alive or not. I cannot answer that.
If there are misspelling and grammatical mistakes in the chapter, please let me know. I wrote it while I had a fever - still do - and when I read it I was exhausted. I may have missed some mistakes because of this. Please, let me know if you can, and I'll fix them as soon as possible.