Singapore-Changi, 25 days until the Fifth Grail War
The bustle of the airport was somewhat suffocating for Ilya - most of her life was spent within Einzbern Castle, with only the clan members as company, and the past few weeks traveling with Sella, Leysritt and Wrex were insufficient to fully prepare her for accepting such chaotic, humongous crowds. The humidity and heat did not help her mood, either - and neither did the looks the three of them were getting. Admittedly, a trio of red-eyed, white-haired women would have stood out pretty much anywhere except at home and maybe at the Clock Tower. Still, an inordinately amount of glances made her feel downright disgusted - sure, people looking at the rather loosely dressed Leysritt was a given (and it's not like the busty homunculus minded, quite the opposite), but Sella also got a surprising amount of those looks … as did Ilya herself.
At least nobody dared to touch or accost them - after the fourth or fifth attempt when the would-be Don Juan felt as if standing before a firing squad of ravenous sharks, people learned the lesson. And the Einzbern Master once again concluded that having Wrex around had surprising but definite benefits.
In a few hours, they would be in Japan, almost within reach of her goal. She would finally face her half-brother and get some answers from her father. Yes, the reckoning was coming close, and she felt rather confident about her chances, never mind whom that boy would summon.
She smiled faintly - to think that in less than a month, she got so used to having an alien as her Servant, instead of the mighty Heracles she originally planned to summon. All in all, it was an even trade in her consideration.
Hongkong, 24 days until the Fifth Grail War
Luvia knelt opposite Caster at the small table, the two of them enjoying the expertly brewed tea, as the two women considered their situation.
"I'm sorry, but the Einzbern did manage to slip by our agents." Liara sipped demurely, a number of screens hovering at her side, various camera feeds, newspaper excerpts, phone logs scrolling across them. "The technological limitations and the insufficient timeframe resulted in the failed attempt. Also, there is the fact that somebody in the clan has at least a halfway decent working brain."
Luvia laughed.
"I assume you mean that someone realized using the tried and true methods might backfire on them." The young noble shrugged, schooling her thick blonde locks. "After they hired the Magus Killer in the previous War, we both knew that it would be a long shot."
Liara nodded, before frowning at something. Her Master narrowed her eyes, as she gazed at the asari immersed in her magic.
"Still, the resources invested in creating and protecting that travelling detail were substantial … and the tactics, the fieldwork familiar. I just cannot place it."
Luvia made a dismissive gesture.
"No sense beating yourself over it." She sipped her tea. "As for the mind behind it all, well, if we are right about the prospective Master and the class of her Servant, it's unlikely that it's someone you know." The human grinned. "Well, at least not personally, considering you both reached the Throne. Unless you remember someone who qualifies as a berserker while being able to plan cover operations amongst aliens."
The cup slipped from Liara's numb fingers, and Luvia could barely catch it before it hit the floor. Her Servant paled (well, went a much lighter shade of blue, but surely that was the same effect), and gulped, shivering.
"Liara? Something I should know?"
"Well, there are a couple of possibilities that come to mind, none of them particularly appealing..."
Matou residence, 21 days until the Fifth Grail War
The girl did not let the constant, maddening susurration of thousands of insects distract her from the ritual forced on her by her grandfather. The old monster personally supervised her work on the summoning circle, pronouncing it adequate for their current purpose. In the dank depths of the immense chamber where she spent so much time in the past decade, there was an unprecedented amount of worm-free surface - even though juvenile Crest Worms swarmed over the lines of the circle, consuming themselves to further power the summoning ritual.
Sakura started to chant the words of power, sparks of life and pleasure flashed in her otherwise dull, dark eyes, as the Crest Worms within her body writhed in eager anticipation, unleashing waves of mind-numbing desire and ecstasy within her mind, driving her to ever greater heights - even threatening her control, which barely happened these days. Shinji, standing behind her, never noticed when her breathing changed ever so slightly, or when her body shivered from the physical feedback. Zouken did - and the old magus smiled, a corpse's rictus grin on his ancient visage.
The tapestry of worms undulated in excited adoration, the writhing chorus of susurration a hymn of eager anticipation as prana flooded the summoning array, boring a way to the Throne, and singing a siren song of yearning for the desired Heroic Spirit. The symbols drawn in worms on the dank stone flashed in a myriad dazzling, dizzying colors simultaneously, the component juvenile worms searing away under the tidal wave of onrushing, ancient power, as the herald from an age long gone stepped forth from the maelstrom of prana to stand in the center of the pentagram.
Despite her outward apathy and self-control, Sakura could not suppress a gasp as she beheld the being that materialized before them. Already at a cursory glance, it was obvious that she failed to summon Medusa, the Gorgon Queen - and she could feel the mocking derision of Shinji behind, while Zouken's disdain and cruel uncaringness cut into her from across. The summoned creature stood tall, clad in a segmented, insectlike samurai armor of royal purple. Four yellow eyes with black, perhaps hourglass-shaped pupils watched her, as the narrow slit of a mouth pulled into a sneer of disdain.
Sakura gasped, swayed as her grandfather's ire at her failure sent the worms within her body into overdrive, the pests flooding her senses with unwanted heat. Her breaths coming in short, quick gasps, her heartbeat a staccato drumming in her ears, she could not understand or even perceive anything outside her own body for a few moments as she fought for control.
"Useless bitch, she could not even perform a ritual after a decade of coaching and direct supervision." Shinji stepped forward, and backhanded Sakura, sending the girl tottering forward - she would have fallen when she tripped over the uneven tiles of the floor, had the summoned creature not steadied her. The Heroic Spirit bowed its head forward, eyes closed for a second as if in contemplation, as Sakura moaned, shivering deliriously.
"In my cycle, worms and talentless parasites alike knew their place." The cold, disdainful voice dripped with the promise of violence. "As I walk amongst mortals again, it is still my cycle. Do I make myself clear?" Greenish-white energy played along the Servant's form before a slight twitch of a hand sent the energy to burn away the wave of worms and insects intent on burying it and its Master. The creature sneered at the silent Zouken who radiated barely restrained fury, then it spared a glance at the swiftly paling Shinji. "Do not try to cause further harm to my Master - unless you would enjoy tasting my vengeance." The sneer sharpened into a bloodthirsty grin, showing teeth, as prana pooled into the Servant's hand, straining to be unleashed. "That is, would you prefer to be boiled or fried?"
With a manly battlecry echoing off the dark, damp walls, Shinji adjourned to his room to contemplate his available courses of actions, along with his suddenly altered future prospects.
Zouken tilted his head to the side, then spoke.
"You answered her call. You are still here. I assume you will assist her in getting the Grail."
"If that's what she wants." The Servant's sneer dripped disdain.
"She wants what I do, familiar. Do not forget that - and keep in mind that I can stop her existence at any moment; which will leave you dead as well." Zouken spared one more glance at his recovering granddaughter, then vanished into the mass of shadows and insects.
Cold, grim laughter echoed in the worm-ridden depths under the Matou residence, and for a moment, a green-white halo played around Sakura's semiconscious body.