Fate is the creation and intellectual property of Nasu Kinoko and Type-Moon.

All other franchises and characters mentioned within this story are the intellectual properties of their respective copyright and trademark holders.

FATE: Realta Nua of 2814.

Based on the original by Shadow Crystal Mage.

"…!"

Shirou woke up with a burning pain in his chest, feeling like he'd just had an ominous dream again. He was sweating, which in all fairness was not all that strange with a humid summer approaching, and he was breathing hard.

"…What… my chest, hurts," he said to himself, and paused. He sighed. "All right, at least this time there wasn't anyone around to hear. Last thing I need is them telling me I repeat every little thing that's automatically self-evident, when do I ever do that? What I really need is to put a lock on my mouth. I'm talking to myself."

His heart felt hot. No, it was more like it was having heat forcibly driven into his heart from outside.

Wait…

From outside?

Shirou leaped out of bed. He'd barely opened his bedroom door when there was a cry, and Illya stepped out of her room in her light pink pajamas. "Oniichan! Kuro's gone, and Berserker won't tell me where she's gone!"

Shirou paused, then turned to Saber's bedroom across from his, what used to be the guest room, and flung open the door.

It was empty.

"Saber's gone too," he said. "I think they're in trouble." He sighed and called out. "Dad! There's trouble!"

Their parents' bedroom door was kicked open, and Irisviel stumbled out, completely naked other than a sleep mask, and brandishing her AA-12 shotgun. "Say hello to my little friend!" she cried.

Illya screamed at the possibility of getting shot.

Shirou screamed at seeing his mother naked.

There was a click. Nothing happened.

"Oh dear. I keep forgetting about that safety!"

"MOM!" Illya cried. "Put some clothes on! Oniichan can see you!"

"Well, what is so horrible about that? This is the vagina he came out o- Never mind. Sometimes I forget."

Actually, Shirou was trying to bang his brains out using a handy wall, but the point had been made.

Kiritsugu stepped out, thankfully with a blanket wrapped around him, which he proceeded to also wrap around Iri, who was finally taking off her sleep mask. "Dear, what did I say about guns in the house?"

"Aw!"

"Mom, Dad, Kuro and Saber are gone!" Illya cried.

Kiritsugu facepalmed. The blanket slipped. Illya screamed and joined Shirou in trying to bash her brains out.

"Oh, sorry," Kiritsugu said.

Negi's Saber opened her eyes and tensed up. "Master!" she said, sitting upright from her position next to Negi's futon. "Master, I feel another Servant coming!"

Since there was no response, she seethed furiously and took hold of the futon, shaking it. "Master...! React right now, will you...?!"

Then she realized the futon was empty, and that she was just clutching a bunch of crumbled bedsheets. Sweating a large cartoony drop, her eyes wandered over to the bunks of Chisame and Satomi, and sure enough, Negi was sleeping next to Chisame, his head nestled between the teenager's breasts.

A moment later, Saber was standing on Chisame's bunk, punting Negi to the floor while Hasegawa gasped in alert, looking wildly in all directions. Under them, Hakase kept on sleeping soundly.

"You lazy brat, we are under attack right now!" the Servant roared.

"Wha, wah, wah, wha, whassap?!" Chisame babbled, still half asleep and blinking profusely. "Wha' happened?! How many dead?!"

Saber manifested her armor around herself and stomped over to the kitchen, finding Rider sitting at the kitchen table, snoring facefirst against several bottles of Ebisu beer. The shorter Servant grabbed her by the hair and began rattling her up and down. "Rider, you useless whore, what kind of Servant are you?! Wake up at once, and protect your Master!"

In the next room, Negi was pulling a coat over his pajamas, Chisame rubbing her eyes as she also threw a jacket on herself and retrieved her Pactio card from the drawer. Hakase hiccuped in dreams and turned on the bed, scratching herself in the stomach.

"Maybe it's Emiya-san, he promised to contact me soon," Negi said, putting on his glasses and grabbing his bandaged battle staff. "I'd have to admonish him, though, he knows men aren't allowed in these dormitories."

"These aren't hours for a social visit!" Saber told him, rushing past them with a yawning Rider in tow, the busty redhead pulling her flintlocks out. "Just stand back and we'll handle these intruders! They are right outside as we speak!"

Chisame flinched, now fully awake. "Like... right now?! Oh, crap! Quick, Sensei, we can get out through the back window! HAKASE! Wake up, do you want to die?!"

"I... I can't abandon Saber like that!" Negi told Chisame while she propped the still mostly unconscious Satomi up, shaking the smaller girl a bit for good measure. "You do that, I'll sumon Setsuna-san if we need more backup!"

Saber grabbed the handle of the door. "I can't believe it, what kind of complete idiot would try such an obvious attack?!" she growled, desperately trying to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her she recognized that presence, while sounding a lot like fucking Merlin of all people. "Well, they'll regret their folly in no-!"

She was saying this even as she yanked the door open, but then the words died in her mouth as she found herself face to face with the other Saber, standing on their doorstep.

For a moment the whole universe fell into a chilling silence, except for Satomi, who was mumbling, "Is breakfast done yet...?" while smacking her lips together.

Then Saber spoke, with a choked, distraught ghost of a voice. "You!"

"You!" Saber answered, with a suddenly renewed streak of angry vitriol in her voice.

Rider looked back and forth between them, then smiled widely. "Ooohhh, I see! Well, isn't this a happy coinc-"

She was then blown back against a wall by the sheer force of the collision, as both Sabers rammed against each other with crazed screams of bloody murder.

Kuro von Einzbern was not a Heroic Spirit. I mean, what do you all think this is, a gacha game?

That obvious fact, naturally, implies that even at full power it would be extremely difficult for her to actually kill an actual Servant. I mean, she isn't Shiki, is she?

So, the Assassin was not dead just yet. Greatly inconvenienced and spent on mana, since he had been slotted into one of the weakest Classes through an irregular summon, but he still held enough presence of body and mind to sit wheezing on the grass, by the humongous roots, guarded closely by Lancer as they watched the man clad in red and black and the small brown girl.

"I feel I must protest," Assassin said, watching Archer support the extremely drained Kuro against the Tree, keeping her at arm's length. "You have just covered her mouth with duct tape! Isn't that child abuse, even for the likes of us?"

"No," Archer said curtly, thinking of Kuro's method of recharging her energy. "No, it is not. Not at all."

No wonder Saber had departed just as quickly as Assassin was defeated, with the excuse of dropping by surprise on this mysterious boy teacher. After all, the little devil would always aim for girls first.

Archer sighed deeply and turned back to face Assassin. "Now, let's talk about your Master," he told him. "And I'd better like what I hear, or else..."

Assassin closed his eyes and chuckled softly. "Would that be before or after you question the other intruder?"

Archer blinked. "There's another? Where?"

Lancer, with the aloof calm of a good hunter, glanced aside and sniffed the air towards the forest. "That way. Should it be any surprise? The girl basically deployed the magic equivalent of a mini nuke, she just painted a bullseye on all of us."

"They're carrying metal on them, one can hear the clanging from here," Assassin added, just as collected and analytical. "A fair amount of metal. They're trying to keep it quiet, however."

"Rider," Lancer said. "That's not a Caster's style, and everyone else's accounted for."

Archer shoved Kuro at the proto-Irishman. "I'll take care of it," he said, rushing into the woods. There soon came the sounds of metal on metal. There was a sudden indistinct cry.

Then silence.

A few minutes later, Archer stepped back onto the stairs from considerably lower than before, holding an extremely long sword, a nodachi. "Lost her," he said, twirling the blade easily in his hands before making it disappear. "A woman, there's no mistaking that. Definitely a Rider-type."

"What was she riding?" Lancer asked.

"Nothing, but you said it yourself, what else could she be?" Archer shrugged.

Lancer twitched, glaring at the other two men. "You know, you people really piss me off! You're an Assassin and Archer using swords, and now we have a Rider who doesn't ride?! Did everyone but me and Saber forget what class they were supposed to be!?"

"What about Berserker?" Archer asked back.

"Well, after that first temper tantrum, he doesn't rage a whole lot anymore, does he?" the spearman argued. "Not that I'm complaining, mind..."

Kuro pulled off the duct tape, wincing. "I could have died of mana depletion! Assholes!" Then, after a pause, "My sister has Berserker pussywhipped, that's all. She does have that effect on people."

"I'm starting to believe my Master might just be the least of all evils in this War, after all," Assassin commented, mildly amused.

Archer glared down at him. "Yes, well, thank you for steering the conversation back there," the white haired man said. "To start with my questions, I need to know something about your Master, and if I suspect you are lying on the subject, I'll kill you on the spot."

"And that would be…?" Assassin asked cautiously.

"Is your Master an idiot, a moron, a child or a Tsundere? Because I made a bet with these people regarding this War's Master Candidacy requirements."

"Well, I suppose that you could say she is somewhat of a 'Tsundere', indeed," Assassin revealed.

"HAH! I KNEW IT!"

The blindfolded Rider ran through the woods, leaves and twigs brushing but not actually tangling in her hair. One of her lesser known, non-stated abilities. Nature leaves her hair alone.

The same can't be said of swords.

Her fingers rose up to feel it. Three hairs, exactly. That red Servant, who was apparently an Archer, had taken off three hairs, exactly.

Her body moved in automatic as she retraced the path back to the apartment building, replaying her recent encounter in her mind…

What, she thought, kind of Archer fights with a sword?

This was only a passing cogitation as she used her weapons to deflect the large sword he wielded. Damn the weakling holding her on a leash. As if he wasn't objectionable enough, why must he handicap her so? This paltry semblance of her own potential was aggravating, compared to the power she'd had in life, the power to annihilate whole platoons of soldiers, the power to crush demigods, the...

No. No, no, she couldn't and shouldn't possibly revel on those memories now.

Because invariably, they only led to far more painful memories.

"Slow… weak… clumsy, even. When have you been clumsy?" Archer said. "Who is holding your leash this time, I wonder? Perseus the Redux, maybe?"

Rider stumbled, an eyebrow rising behind her blindfold. Archer was smiling knowingly.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh, so it's not him?" he mused. "That only muddles the waters further then... Let's see, you obviously aren't with Sakura either, but despite everything, you seem motivated, no matter how badly equiped you are. You are... afraid. Not for yourself, obviously, but for that person, whoever they are…"

Rider hated what was in his eyes. Pity.

"You should have been the hero of that story," he said quietly. "Not the go-to girl anyone with pretensions of Greece uses as a villain."

"Shut UP!" she cried, not realizing how upset, to put it mildly, she'd become as she'd fought on automatic, listening with heart-twisting fascination. "Shut up!"

"Well, now's a good time to end this fight," he said. "This is the sword Yuunagi. It has always been wielded by a certain kind of hero: the kind who tends to have problems with naked women and can't seem to spit out that they love someone. Shinmei-ryu secret technique! Zanmaken Ni-no-Tachi! In Celebration Of Sakurazaki Setsuna's First Kiss With Her Konoka Ojou-Sama Strike!"

She'd felt the attack strike her, felt it pass through her. The shock of it had made her stop and look down, to see three long hairs on the ground.

"Go back home, little goddess," the red-clad Servant had told her. "This isn't the time for us to be killing each other."

She jerked in surprise. What could a Grail War be, if not a time to spill others' blood? "You're letting me go?"

He waved a negligent hand. "Get a move on before the others think I need help and come snooping. Shoo!"

She turned, confused, but paused. "Why?"

He shrugged, and turned partly, still keeping her in sight, but obviously preparing to leave. "A Hero of Justice saves everyone. Especially troubled little girls…"

Well, one thing was for sure: that Servant, and possibly the others as well, knew who she was. He knew too many details, things she hadn't revealed to anyone in this life, not even the Master. That meant that they were being watched somehow, perhaps magically, and her Master had no way whatsoever to counter that. She had to go and warn him. It was her duty and- more than that now, as well.

Master, please, hang on there for me… Medusa thought.

She ran faster.

Archer and Lancer walked home slowly. Archer was carrying a woozy Kuro on her back. She still hadn't recovered from her 'Unlimited Blade Works' attack, which had taken a lot out of her. She was barely keeping conscious, constantly asking for Saber to return and 'recharge her'. Archer had threatened more duct tape. This hadn't really worked so far.

"Prana… Prana!" Kuro moaned.

"Yes, yes," Archer said. "We're heading home already, so if you can just keep you moving, you'll soon be able to orally molest your sister."

"Illya… Illya…!" Kuro moaned.

"We really should have killed him off," Lancer opined at last. "That would send Caster a better message."

"Lancer, use your head just for once," Archer clenched his teeth. "You watched the woman's movie as well. Cursed Grail, remember? Which forced Kiritsugu to force Saber into trying to destroy it?"

"What does that have to do with killing Assassin or not?"

"Do you really want to summon a damned Grail that would destroy the world?!" Archer shouted. "And we've just been told there's a second Saber, which should be impossible. This Caster could summon a Servant of her own. And the manager is a creepy sinister pervert. Nothing about this is going as it should! So until we figure out what's going on, what if we don't do anything to keep reforming this flawed Grail, like killing more Servants for its sake?!"

Lancer snorted. "Why don't we just kill all of them, reform the Grail, and then destroy it ourselves? There, problem solved! I know I can succeed where Saber failed!"

"You're an idiot," Archer decided.

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

They walked on in silence some more.

Eventually, they ran into a disheveled, badly battered and clearly low in mana Saber, standing on their way with a grim, almost haunted face.

"Oh, so you finally deigned to show up," Lancer said. "Had fun picking on a little kid and her Servant?"

"No," Saber said very bluntly. "And there are two of them. The other Saber, and Rider."

"The other Rider, you mean," Archer said.

Saber paled a bit. "... there's even more of us?" she said after a moment, struggling to remain controlled.

"This War is the gift that keeps on giving," Lancer said. "Why the long face, anyway? Did they team up on you? Did you kill them?"

"Yes, and... no," she said, growling each word intensely. "But I agreed to... manage a temporary truce with them, since it wouldn't do to fight within a student residence, and... there is greater foul play behind all of this, after all."

Archer nodded. "Exactly my point to this moron. Oh, and talking about foul things..."

From a side street, a Mercedes SL 300 Gullwing came roaring out, skidded on the road, spun a couple of times, and smashed its rear against a tree, making Saber briefly shriek from suppressed ill memories. Then, a sudden silence as the engine cooled, and it was deafening.

The rear passenger doors burst open, and Shirou, Illya, Rin, Luvia and Miyu all fell out, all in various sleepwear and shades of green.

"GROUND, SWEET GROUND!" Illya cried, kissing the dirt. "I missed you so much!"

"I thought I was going to die!" Rin agreed, as she crawled as far from the car as possible.

"INFERNAL MACHINE!" Luvia swore.

"I'm going to get killed…" Shirou moaned. "I'm going to get killed, then I'm going to die…"

Miyu merely picked herself off and stood. Then she turned and kicked the car.

"Dear, what did I tell you about the brakes again?" Kiritsugu said as he came out of the death seat, looking only a little pale.

"That's the one to the left, right?" Iri said as she stepped out of the passenger seat.

Kuro stumbled forward, slipping out of Archer's grasp and kneeling to where Illya was still shaking on the ground. She helped Illya up, smiling beatifically. "Illya…"

Illya looked up. "Kuro! Where did you guys go!? We were all so worried, and Rin and Luvia showed up, and we looked for you, and Mom drove, and we saw God and the Devil, and–!"

Kuro leaned forward and clamped her mouth onto Illya's.

KISS! WITH TONGUE! PRACTICALLY MOUTH RAPE!

"KURO!" Illya cried, uppercutting her sister.

Kuro flew through the air, flipped and landed lightly on her feet. "All right! Kuro-chan's back at 100th percent max power!" she cried, giving a thumbs up despite the big bruise on her face. "Thanks, Sis!"

Illya glared at her sister in apoplectic rage. Miyu glared as well, tapping a foot down and ignoring the faint squeal coming out of Sapphire as she unknowingly squeezed it.

"Hey," Kuro chirped. "Guess what we found out!"

Kotomine Kirei yawned, and thought, not for the first time, that it was difficult being a conscientious evil bastard.

Other evil bastards could afford to be negligent, putting up appearances only when there were people around to sucker into their act. He, unfortunately, wasn't made like that. Sure, he was an evil, murderous, mindscrewing monster who found purpose and pleasure only in the physical and mental suffering of others, most especially if he was administering it, but unlike, say, literal American clowns who like to ask why you were so serious, he annoyingly had a fully-functional conscience.

It meant that when there was no one around to make suffer and no way to set someone up for impending suffering, he still kept up the nice-guy act, in a paper-thin, purely habitual attempt to be a functional human being. He did little nice things like fix a coworker's chair if it was uncomfortable or damaged, stopped Sister Shakti from brutalizing Misora-kun after a prank, cleaned around the church, set out food for stray cats– he was a jerk against the human race, after all. No need to bring cats into it– and, in this case, attended to church calls as befit his role as the official arbiter and overseer of Heaven's Feel, no matter how late at night.

When there are no actual human beings involved in the equation, but the simple fulfilling of a civic or professional duty, Kotomine Kirei could be a relatively nice guy.

He was still a complete monster of an evil bastard who literally had a heart made from the physically congealed evils of all humanity beating in his chest, but hey, no one's perfect.

Before him stood now a petite young woman with cold golden eyes and long, wavy silver hair, who for some reason wasn't wearing anything below the waist other than tiny gray shorts and stockings. And next to her...

"The first thing you should know about me," growled the tall, almost sickeningly pale woman standing by Sister Caren Ortensia, "is I don't like the Church."

Her partner nodded quietly. "Yes. I had to waste one Command Seal just to stop her from killing me upon summoning."

They stood at the middle of one of several large underground chambers in the basements of the Mahora Mary Magdalene Cathedral, facing the local congregation, headed by Sister Yolanda, a portly old woman of unspecified foreign origins, missing an eye covered by a black cloth patch, and who sat behind a wide black desk with her fingers folded together.

Around said desk stood Sister Eda, chewing on her nicotine bubblegum nervously; Sister Yukariko, holding her white hands together and looking deeply concerned; the naturally tanned Shakti, aloof and stoic as ever; Father Garterbelt, a scowling mountain of muscle of Afroamerican ethnicity; the diminutive Sister Cocone, just as inexpressive as ever; and the always twitchy and uneasy Sister Misora, barely more than a child herself. And of course, arms folded behind his wide back while nodding at Caren's words, Kotomine himself.

"I see," he gravelly said, meeting the unending vitriol burning into the Servant's eyes with his ever serene and unflinching stare. "However, as a Heroic Spirit you should have a wish for the Blessed Cup. Those interests would be greatly hampered should you strike at your Master, for a suitable replacement would be difficult to find."

"She and I have reached... an agreement of sorts," admitted the woman with hair that was so lightly blonde, it was nearly snow white. Her irises were tinted in a disturbing yellow, and her shapely, athletic body clad in form fitting black from toe to neck. Pieces of armor covered her shoulder pads and torso, but her legs were allowed more mobility by a long black skirt with tall slits at each side. In a hand she held a sharp standard with a black flag at its top; and a thin black sword hung from her waist. Her high heels made her look even taller than she was, towering over all other women present, including the fairly tall Eda and Shakti. "Be aware, however, I am Avenger, a spirit of resentment and hatred. Should it be left to my choice, I would be burning all of this damned building while your bodies are impaled upon your altars."

Sister Misora whimpered pitifully and shrunk back, trying to discreetly hide between the still apathetic Cocone. Avenger flashed a little, perfidious grin at them then, and Misora only lowered her head and whispered a desperate prayer.

"Should you be truly evil, my body would be reacting badly to your presence, Avenger," Caren said, taking a moment to examine her own fingernails and lightly blow on them. "I won't restrain you from thinking otherwise, but please, as long as you act as my partner, restrain yourself from threatening my colleagues. You will make me look badly."

Avenger rolled her eyes in a frustrated fashion. "Of course that would be the thing worrying you the most right now! Honestly, out of the whole lot of you, there's only one with enough common sense to know how screwed up you are..."

"Th-Tha-Thank you very much, Ma'am," Misora nodded shakily.

"You're welcome," Avenger nodded, actually more politely than she would have liked to. She slammed the standard down on the floor, making Misora yelp, and shouted, raising an arm in a grandiose sweep, "You fools! This time, I shall raise this flag, for this country's—-no, this world's fall into the abyss of war. Order has gone up in flames, and so much purpose has been lost. Your future vanished in but a second, without you even realizing!"

"Listen to my words, self appointed vermin gathered here, legion of subhumans, unworthy of brave heroic spirits! No matter if you were my sworn enemies or no matter how far your time period apart from mine, now you must entrust your backs to me! My true name is Jeanne d'Arc. In the name of my despise and my rage, I shall stand as your battering ram!"

"This struggle is one that has long endured through the sands of human history. But there is no need for concern, even as untold fateful encounters await you. Though your entire world of petty privileges and pampered lives has become the battlefield of the Holy Grail War, though that world has been brought to ruin, though countless formidable foes block our path, the end has still yet to be determined by anyone. Now, let us begin our fight, Master!"

Shakti blinked. "What... What was that?!" she demanded. "Was it a declaration of war against us, or an intent to protect...?!"

Avenger smiled proudly, quite pleased with the effect she had just caused.

"Base simpleton! Isn't it obvious? Both! Rest assured, should you stand in the middle of my campaigns you will be annihilated without a second thought but that of the joy I will derive from your deaths. But I can see you are not the Church of my age, and corrupt as they were you have fallen further into feeble degeneration. So, after all, even as it disgusts me, it also pleases me to join forces with this mockery of a church! Ah ha ha ha!" She took her head back and cackled, in a way that was so deranged it fell all the other way into being hard to be taken seriously by anyone but the cowering Misora. "Or at least," she said, regaining some posture and cold dignity, "that is what I tell myself to suppress the vomit at the idea of working for you. Shatter that perception at your own peril."

Sister Yolanda only shook her head faintly, smiling like a placid crocodile. "Quite an amusing twist! Nobody thought of this when we secured the relics of the Saint of Orleans..."

"What were you expecting after sentencing me to death by fire?" Avenger huffed. "Did you seriously believe hailing me a saint afterwards would make up for that? The betrayal I should have been spared through life will not be placated by your hypocrisy. That noble fool was killed by you, and in her stead rose this presence of vengeance and most unfair retribution! Just be glad there are others who will pose more of a challenge to focus my rage onto, and that aiding the likes of you counts as a greater blasphemy than smiting you as I should!"

"Drama queen," Caren muttered disapprovingly under her breath.

"I heard that, Master!"

"Ooo-kay, then," Father Garterbelt said after a moment of awkward silence from both parties. "I think the best will be if we give you and Sister Ortensia a room of your own away from us... I mean, from this most impartial church you cannot be affiliated with through the duration of your stint as contestants for Heaven's Feel..."

"Indeed," Kirei nodded, handing Caren a set of keys. "Just remember, you are not to involve third parties into the Grail War, but if you absolutely need to, make sure of disposing of them properly right afterwards."

"That's not the Christian way of doing things!" Shakti snapped.

Caren nodded at this man she would not call Father. "The War's secrecy will be kept no matter what Avenger's destructive tendencies may be. If she destroys, I will make sure she destroys everything and everyone in sight..."

"No, no, that's evil, though!" Shakti insisted. "You should be ripping yourself apart from the inside just by saying that!"

But the long dead heart of Kotomine Kirei felt right then, for the first time, something vaguely resembling paternal pride.

The night eventually ended, and the next morning arrived, and before long, that morning once again gave way to a quiet, uneventful afternoon.

Taking aim, then shooting. It was easy enough, even when she wasn't feeling at her best. Sakura didn't let her personal feelings disrupt her concentration while shooting at the club's archery range after classes. Instead, like Rin had advised her to so long ago, she used them to gain a better focus, sharpening her resolve and senses.

Right now, for instance, she wasn't letting her mind aimlessly wander to what this Saber-san Oneesama had told her about might be doing with Senpai at the time, or what Rin could be doing with Archer-san, that was pointless and would only stress her further. Instead, she used her current turmoil to her advantage, to shift her mind's eye as to imagine the red target at the other end of the training hall replaced by something more suitable, like, perhaps...

"Bullseye!" Taiga-sensei clapped as Sakura's clubmates cheered, the arrow having found its way directly into the center as soon as it had flown through the air. "Way to go, Sakura-chan! You'll make it to this year's regionals for sure!"

"You're too kind, Sensei," Sakura smiled warmly at her, pushing all thoughts of heads with golden ahoges, which Oneesama had described with so much loving luxury of details, out of her mind. "I'll keep trying my best, but, um..."

Fujimura Taiga frowned a little as she saw her descending into a troubled silence. "Something wrong, Sakura-chan?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, nothing, it's just... um, how many days would I have to spend out of the city for... for...?"

Taiga laughed again, patting Sakura's shoulder. "Oh, that! Don't worry about that yet, we'll decide after the School Festival! Your sister is a big girl already, isn't she? I'm sure she can take care of herself for a few days while you're away!"

Sakura lowered her head and nodded. "Yes... I suppose..."

That wasn't the problem at all, though.

If anything, the problem was Archer-san was a much better cook and homemaker than even Sakura herself.

Inside, the worm kept turning and gnawing. Once again, the darkness grew just a little.

Morgan Le Fay smiled pleasantly to herself, enjoying the rather vapid movie being shown in her flight to Japan.

The two gentlemen working at the digs all those years ago had needed some hard convincing as they had been rather stubborn on their ways, but after being made just a little older, they had seen the errors of their manners, thankfully before turning to dust, otherwise Morgan could have been left back at Square Zero.

Now she knew everything she needed to know for the time being. Apparently, her sister's relics had been given to a Japanese mercenary during the last few years of her sleep, so the only logical course of action was flying to Japan and looking for Artoria there. Of course, Morgan expected to find some resistance there as well, but that was okay. Before departing, the two gentlemen had made up for their rudeness by giving her a souvenir from the old days, which surely would come handy during this 'Heaven's Feel' ritual unfolding right now.

Morgan giggled, stroking the gigantic old shield placed by her side, protected by a spell that made everyone else in the plane fail completely to notice it, despite its huge size.

Galahad had never been one of her favorite knights, but that was okay. That would just make it all that much sweeter.

To be Continued.