Fate: Unbalanced Scales

by SomeWritingGuy

Become a Hero of Justice or protect his family? A question one man answered confidently each time it was asked. When the war he had been preparing his entire life for finally arrives, the question changes into a choice: Be the monster everyone believes him to be or watch his family die one by one. [Pre F/Z to post F/SN] (The long-awaited return, thank you for waiting!)

40. First Time for Everything

Hello all. Things have been tough, but I won't bore you with what life has been like. At the end of the day, here's another chapter!

Also, for clarification sake and so I don't have to keep sending it over private messages to reviewers who state the same complaint numerous times: Shirou could not have wished for Sakura back. Illya is a homunculus which is notably different to a human both biologically and spiritually. When she perished, her soul was absorbed into the Grail like Irisviel and all the other vessels before her. Within, it was preserved in a state and area in which it could be moved to a puppet with sufficient knowledge and mana, the latter of which was gifted by the Grail to actualize Shirou's wish. As far as my research and reading takes me, this aligns with canon laws and if y'all aren't happy then I can't explain my reasonings any more.

Unfortunately for Sakura, she is not a homunculus and cannot be brought back in the same manner, despite being the vessel of the Grail as she died. As the victor can only make a single wish, asking for two separate people with two separate processes would be two individual wishes.

Phew. Now that that's off my chest, I can wish y'all some good reading ahead!

---

It wasn't an easy task.

In fact, that was wholly incorrect. It was impossible. From what Touko could relay on Blue's — Aoko's — abilities, he was outgunned, outclassed and entirely ill-equipped to take her down.

The Fifth Magic wasn't even his largest concern, though it did occupy a portion of their talk. He had been able to learn about magic after all, though. After a lengthy discussion with Touko, he discovered without a doubt that she had no clear idea what it truly did or was capable of. Rather reluctantly, she discussed its use as a way to displace time but refused to elaborate on her hypotheses for its true intended use.

The woman seemed to be keen on taking every precaution not to disclose her own thoughts, so perhaps there was a peculiar Schrodinger's cat effect with the magic. If she acknowledged something, was it capable of changing somehow?

What genuinely troubled him was Aoko's alleged abilities outside of her magic. Physical durability and strength nearing that of servants, prowess in magecraft capable of taking even lower ranked Caster-class servants head-on. The barrage Touko used against him had taken the better part of a day to set up. Aoko, however, was capable of seamlessly creating something of similar or greater overwhelming power in seconds. Worse yet, she could support a barrage of that scale for hours. Tack that onto her high physical durability, strength and speed, and she became a powerhouse not only at range but up close as well.

She was, while still being far from Berserker, comparable to a servant and she demanded the precaution that went along with the claim.

Origin Rounds had a chance at working, but Aoko's magic circuits apparently sipped mana like a hummingbird sipping sugar water. Even if it was to land and activate, it would do little without the mana payload necessary to deliver enough damage.

Despite the impossibility of the task given to him, he couldn't refuse.

It wasn't because Touko threatened him with imprisonment or any type of injury. He had only sought her out to get a puppet body for Illya and he wouldn't leave without one. He was more or less forced to accept her task. Surprisingly, she offered the puppet body he needed before he completed the task given to him as an advanced payment.

Evidently aware of how onerous the task she put forth was, in exchange for nothing more than his word, she agreed to create a puppet body as originally asked. He didn't need to provide proof he was working on the assassination or any type of check-in. At the same time, she explicitly warned him that if he neglected their deal or tried to elude her, she would find him.

Specifically, she claimed that she would find him, dismember him, disembowel him and preserve every part individually for experimentation. Then, she'd store every part of him in a room that his would-be jarred eyes could see. Not only that, but she'd deliberately keep his nervous system active, so he'd be forced to feel the phantom pain of his vacant body for the rest of time.

The fact she had been so deliberately detailed made him wonder if she had done something similar to a poor soul in the past. Considering who she was, that notion didn't surprise him even a little.

Even with such an ominous consequence put forth, he still unabashedly accepted the terms. In order to start work on a puppet, she only needed DNA from its intended host, which Shirou just so happened to bring for precisely such a reason. Illya had — following some convincing — reluctantly given up some hair for Shirou's then-untold purposes.

All that was left was to give the woman time and arrange a discreet place to pick up the completed product. Touko claimed that the process to move bodies was simple enough that even a novice could do it. That answer hadn't reassured him. Touko's idea of novice seemed to be well beyond what would actually constitute such a thing. Thankfully, Shirou had Rin who would likely know of, or be able to figure out the procedure.

While he was there, he decided to pick her brain for what he could. She was, after all, an undeniably intelligent woman. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't willing to share that intelligence it seemed. It wasn't that she shut his conversation down and refused to speak at all. Rather, she eloquently avoided directly answering his questions in a way that revealed her own thoughts. Despite not giving anything definite, she carried the conversation in such a way that it flowed naturally. She reminded him of a silver-tongued politician in that way.

Right after beginning to take his leave, he was stopped by the woman and given a pair of sunglasses, mystic eye killers. They weren't of the same design as his old ones, but they were serviceable. She claimed the replacement to be equivalent to the old ones she had broken and a gesture of goodwill to smooth along their agreement.

With all things settled, Shirou set off to leave but found the sea too turbulent for his would-be ride back to the mainland. Returning and explaining such to Touko, the woman gained a malicious gleam in her eye.

"You ever travel by broom, kid?"

… … …

He still felt sick even a day after touching down in Britain. Of all the methods of transportation he had taken, Touko's self-patented method of flight was one he would never willingly use again. She had explained the methodology and it had seemed infallible on paper. Create an anchor point at a destination of choice and create a complementing, rideable object that was attracted to the anchor point. Then, use the attraction between the two items to draw one to the other.

It wasn't until he was straddling a broom, hurtling across the open ocean at a speed beyond that of Saber's motorbike that he declared it the worst form of travel that existed. He could be thankful it had been short. The extreme speed had made sure of that, after all.

Back in the Clock Tower, Shirou returned to find his suspicions correct. Waver had elected to take on the role of detective for the recent murders. Allegedly, from what Rin told him, he had decided to take them in order of occurrence. That meant he'd try to solve Marisbury's disappearance first. It was a logical decision on his part and Shirou was thankful he'd made it. Marisbury had been careful to hide all of his tracks, so the time wasted seeking a thread with no end would make Shirou look better.

If it was determined he had no involvement with Marisbury, he'd be less likely to be scrutinized as hard when it came to Lev. At least, that was Shirou's theory.

He'd also gone over his trip with Rin, who had mixed feelings over it all.

"You almost died, again," she huffed, not bothering to lift her head from her book.

Shirou's expression turned jaded. "That's all you got out of the entire story?"

"And you want to get yourself killed taking on a magician," she murmured, turning a page.

"I don't have a time limit to do it," he argued. "Maybe she'll die of old age and I won't have to do a thing."

Rin looked up from her book, offered a very frustrated look as she seemingly wrestled with words in her mind, then returned to reading. "Is cremation still fine or did you want to be buried?"

Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward over the table. "If you're so against me dying then you could help me out, you know."

"Even if you got help from Saber it'd still be suicide." Flipping another page, the woman leaned closer to examine a specific passage. "Sometimes it's better to deal with the foe you know than the foe you don't."

Shirou mulled her words over for a moment. "Are you saying I should betray Touko after she gives us the puppet body?"

"You've already killed her once," she pointed out nonchalantly. "Her power also requires preparation, according to you. Besides, if she were capable of killing her sister, she wouldn't have asked you in the first place."

Shirou blinked. "Aoko is Touko's sister?"

Rin's head snapped upwards, attention shattered by his words. Rapidly blinking, her features turned to disbelief. "She didn't tell you?"

"No," he shook his head. "I thought-"

"Touko Aozaki, Aoko Aozaki. Their matching family names didn't clue you in?"

"I didn't-"

"Did you even know Touko achieved the ranking of Grand and the colour red during her time at the Clock Tower? If Aoko is stronger than her, I don't think there's a magus in all of Europe that could stand a chance." She paused, thought over something for a moment, then added, "Maybe a magus from The Pit, but good luck getting one of them."

Resuming her reading, Shirou clenched his jaw. Leaving the island he knew the job would be impossible. Hearing a second opinion didn't hurt, however. "What if one of those magi was a servant?"

Rin slammed both hands on the table and glared up at him with unbridled anger. "Emiya, I know you like to throw your life away whenever opportunity comes knocking but this isn't something you even have a chance against. You barely scraped by in the Grail War, but that's a cakewalk compared to a true magician, especially one that can rework time itself. As you are, I can't see any possible way of you succeeding against someone like Aoko." Her words flicked on a light switch inside his brain. Watching her features rapidly shift from anger to concern, he knew she noticed it on his face. "I didn't just give you a stupid idea, did I?"

Her words reminded him of his greatest asset: his sheer versatility. All he needed to do was create a weapon specifically to defeat his given target. If there wasn't one that would work, he needed only to make one that would. "You just reminded me is all."

Gripping her own face, the woman growled loudly. "I swear you're going to break every last nerve I have." Pulling her hand away, she stared at him with unwavering intent. "Do I need to buy a leash for you?"

Shirou lifted up his hands. "Alright, I get it." Breathing in heavily, he let out a defeated huff. "I won't try anything," he acquiesced.

Narrowing her eyes and examining him for a moment, she eventually found whatever she was seeking and softened. "I'm glad, nobody wants to lose you. You've already done enough."

Nodding and standing from the table, Shirou walked to the door. "I'll tell Illya the good news at least. I'll also talk with Gray to see when she wants to make that trip."

He received an affirmative hum in response. Changing his watch into a suit and adorning his sunglasses, he opened the door and left Rin's dorm. As he entered the hall, he couldn't help but notice the soft click of a door closing off to one side. Glancing, he guessed by sound alone that it had originated from Illya's dorm.

Maybe he didn't need to tell her the good news. She'd likely already heard it by eavesdropping through the door. Quietly, he approached the door and knocked a few times. He waited for a few seconds, but he could quite easily hear that nobody had moved toward the door inside. She had waited up against it to make it seem as if she had.

Throwing it open, the woman offered a bright smile and extended her arms for a hug while exclaiming his name. "When did you get back?"

Arms almost wrapping around him, he landed a hand on the top of her head to stop her short. "You need to stop eavesdropping on people."

She made a noise like a strangled cat. "I thought you couldn't trace people," she pouted.

He was unflinching. Her manipulation techniques wouldn't work on him. "I didn't even need to trace to find out. Besides, even though I can't, I can locate people based on the pressure they place on the floor."

Releasing him, she turned and crossed both arms over her chest. She was about to try spinning it around and make it seem like his fault. "Well if I wasn't so worried about you, I wouldn't have to eavesdrop."

Walking past her, he patted the top of her head. "You know that isn't going to work, either." Pulling out a chair for her at the kitchen table, he sat down in another. "So what didn't you hear?"

Glaring at him for a moment, she continued to employ her annoyed crossed-arm look. "I really only heard when Rin yelled at you."

Smirking, he motioned to the chair and waited for her to sit down. "Well then I'll guess I should start with what's most important - I managed to get you another puppet body, one that should last eighty years or more."

She was ecstatic. So much so, she leaped at him, almost topping the chair he was in while asking how. As her own question settled within her, a great deal of her enthusiasm was dashed. Joy and ecstaticism quickly turned to suspicion. "What did you have to do for it?"

"Nothing yet," he admitted. The response did nothing to calm her and, if anything, only deepened her worry. "I made a deal with the puppet maker but it'll all work out."

Moving away from him and standing a short distance away, the pensiveness grew. "This deal isn't going to get you killed, is it?"

"No," he lied reflexively. Illya's face turned to an upset pout. "Probably not," he lied again. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that going against Aoko Aozaki would get him killed. "Maybe," he finally admitted. "But not for some time at least. I could figure something out by then."

The girl grew angry. "I can see why Rin was yelling now!" Clenching both hands into fists at her side, she vibrated as if moments away from exploding like a bomb. "You idiot! That isn't how this is supposed to work, you're just trading your life for mine!"

"I could have done that," he noted aloud, "but there's a chance I can make it out alive by taking this deal instead."

The woman gripped the sides of her own head and glared in exasperation. "I'm not supposed to live in your place."

"Don't you want to live?"

"That isn't the issue," she shot back quickly. "I'm living on borrowed time gifted to me by your wish on the Holy Grail. Even if I wasn't killed, I was never designed to live much longer than this." Removing her hands, she took a step forward and used one to jab a finger against his chest, accenting her words with the same finger as well. "You don't have that sort of restriction. You are supposed to live a full life. You need to stop trying to give away your life to extend the lives of others."

He stood up from the table himself. "Not only did I make a promise, but I want to give you the life you deserve, beyond what the Einzberns designed you for. If it takes a few years of my own to do that, I'll give them away without a second thought." Noting his own words caught him off guard. When had he been so certain that he'd only be giving up a few years if he died soon? Had that slip been influenced by Archer?

Illya's anger only deepened. "You give up your only wish to bring me back from the dead, you forfeit your own life to keep me alive longer. At this point I'd be more surprised if you didn't walk to the ends of the earth for me."

He had made a promise to Kiritsugu and a promise to himself that he'd protect her. He wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt her again. Whatever it took, she'd have the chance to live a happy life. "If that's what it would take," he commented offhand.

"But why?"

The question elicited a twitch. It brought back the memory of Kiritsugu's face the first time they met. Shirou still sought to experience what he had all those years ago. Smiling softly and reaching forward, he patted Illya's head. "Why wouldn't I want to keep my sister alive?"

Reaching up, she gripped his wrist and moved his hand away from her with an icy glare. "Shirou, I've resigned myself to you leaping blindly into danger but you've never done it without a path to success in mind." She sighed and released his hand. "I don't think I need to remind you that people around you are worried and we don't want you to wind up dead." Her expression turned from annoyed to saddened. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

He stayed around for the better part of an hour to catch up on anything he might have missed and to check in on Illya. He discovered she had the desire to learn magecraft oriented for combat. Initially, she asked him to teach her but remembered his training regime mid-sentence and thought against it.

Understanding, Shirou suggested she ask Lectra to teach her. She was the only one capable of making him put in legitimate effort into a spar from the El-Melloi class and only a couple of years ago, she had been a complete novice. Owing some credit to her powerful, unique magecraft, she still had the tactical sense to use it properly.

Illya promised to speak with her when she could and the rest of their conversation was simple small talk about Illya and her studies at the Tower. Finishing their conversation, Shirou moved to leave and after saying his goodbyes, entered the hallway. Before he got far, Illya called him back and quietly said, "Thanks, you big idiot," before closing the door. Continuing with his business, he moved through the Tower to the El-Melloi clubhouse.

Halfway along, the feeling of being watched prickled his instincts and the hairs on the back of his neck. The sensation of being watched was far from anything new, but his instincts reacting definitely was. Deciding to see what type of tail he acquired, he did his best to remain nonchalant and performed a series of turns. Specifically, four right turns down a series of hallways.

He ended up in the same exact spot he started, but the watchful eyes persisted the entire journey. He was undeniably being tracked. Even in the Clock Tower, it seemed he wasn't truly safe.

A perceptive stalker would have noticed the trick and fled before being found out, which meant it was either a novice or someone who didn't care about being discovered. Alternatively, they could have been aware but decided that leaving would bring about the same amount of suspicion. Considering how many enemies he might have, it could have been anyone really. Still, the club room had only one entrance; if it was Svin, he'd likely head there anyway and enter behind.

Continuing the journey, he was followed to the door of the club room. Upon entering, the watchful eyes went away. Inside the room, he found the usual suspects. Gray, reading a book; Svin, trying to appear innocuous as he watched; and Flat, napping on a loveseat with a comic book over his face.

Noting his arrival, Gray closed her book and set it on the table. Svin, on the other hand, soured and began a hateful glare.

The fact he was present was a point of minor concern as it meant his stalker's identity was unknown. Perhaps another person was sent by whoever had paid that one student to attack him.

Offering a greeting, he directed his attention toward Gray. He asked if she was busy, and she wordlessly shook her head. "I wanted to talk about this trip you had in mind." In his periphery, he could see Svin's head snap to look at him. Immediately, a wave of raw, unadulterated rage was directed his way.

He could see the subtle stiffening of Gray's body, but couldn't decipher why she would have acted in such a way. That was until Lectra stood up from behind the oversized chair Gray was seated in.

Eyes wide and body electric like an excited puppy, she seemed ready to bounce off the walls. "You're going on a trip?" she asked, quickly followed by, "Where?"

Shirou ignored her question to ask his own. "What were you doing back there?"

"Reading," she answered seamlessly. "Sometimes reading in a chair gets boring so I sit or lay down on the floor."

The woman in question only peered up from behind her hood to ask, "When are you available? We'd need two days at least."

Lectra draped herself over the back of Gray's chair, startling the girl with her sudden proximity. "Why are you two ignoring me, is this a date or something?"

The angry set of eyes turned outright murderous, Gray shrank into her shoulders and to try and defuse the situation Shirou flared his hands to begin clarifying. "It's not a date, it's just something she's not comfortable talking about openly."

"I wasn't aware you and Gray were such close friends," Svin muttered through gritted teeth.

"If it isn't a date, then I could come along, right?" Beaming up with star-studded eyes, Shirou felt as if it would be too cruel to decline her.

So instead, he passed the responsibility away entirely. "Gray was the one who set this up, so she can decide that one."

Craning her neck to peer at the girl, she sheepishly nodded. "But nobody else," she murmured. The agreement came less out of a desire for more company and more so to avoid disappointing the girl.

Sighing in relief, he gave the other questions a thought. "I'll have to talk with Waver first. I believe he wanted me to stay in London until his investigation is over just in case."

"Sir is in his office, you could see if he isn't busy," she noted.

Taking her advice, Shirou thanked her and moved to Waver's door so he could knock three times. There was a muffled "come in" that came through from within, so he did just so, entering his dimly-lit office filled with the lingering scent of cigar smoke. Strangely enough, for once, it wasn't filled with the stuff at the moment. Once Waver met Shirou's eyes, however, the man opened a drawer and withdrew a cigar.

He had never told the man, so it was unlikely he knew Shirou disliked tobacco smoke. More likely, was that the mere sight of him stressed the man enough to begin smoking. "Emiya, so you've returned. Close the door, please."

Ensuring the door clicked closed, Shirou stepped forward into the room while Waver prepared his cigar. Eventually deciding to sit in one of the club chairs opposite the man, Shirou elected to let him speak first.

The office was unnaturally ominous. While typical to be clogged by bookshelves, open books, loose papers and stationery, it wasn't often the man kept it so dim. Illuminated by the steady hum of a feeble incandescent desk lamp, Shirou could barely make out the man's nose and the glint of the lamp's reflection in his eyes. The hot embers at the end of his cigar cast more light than the lamp itself, revealing a bitter expression. "It seems I lost my bet with Gray after all, then."

"You bet on me fleeing?"

He hummed in the affirmative. "After all, I wouldn't want to be the prime suspect in this case. This isn't an accident during the Mage's Tournament, this is a premeditated assassination of two high-ranking officials within the Clock Tower."

"Are you still accusing me of doing it?"

"I didn't say that," he deflected, taking a drag of his cigar. Shirou allowed the silence to creep in for a few seconds.

"If I ran, I'd be considered guilty so returning is my best chance at proving my innocence."

"Or feigning it," Waver quickly tacked on.

Furrowing his brow, Shirou let some annoyance slip into his actions. "Did you invite me in here to passively accuse me of assassination?"

He was silent for some time, enjoying not one, but two drags upon his cigar. With a plume of smoke ahead, he used the tip of his cigar like a pencil, drawing into the haze. Embers broke off the tip of the cigar, lingering suspended in mid-air and tying together to create an inscription.

Without warning, the smoke expanded, grew dense and shrouded the entire office. The walls and bookshelves were lost behind an opaque grey haze. It was a bounded field, but not one he was familiar with.

"I know you did it," he stated directly.

Repressing a flinch, Shirou doubted he concealed his emotions all that well, if at all. "What-"

"You don't need to bother with lying. I've created a bounded field to prevent any potential eavesdroppers from listening in." Leaning back in his chair, the man threw both legs up onto his desk, knocking over a precariously perched book to the floor. "You don't need to speak. If you're suspicious about me having some type of recording device set up, that is."

Shirou bit his tongue. While he doubted it, after such a direct statement, he didn't want to risk being the victim of reverse psychology.

"I merely wanted to inform you directly, that I know you assassinated Marisbury Animusphere and Professor Lev Lainur." Following a few languid breaths full of tobacco, he withdrew his legs from the desk and leaned forward over it. "The issue is, I lack any definite evidence to prove it. Your magecraft leaves no trace, no discernible trail for another magus to follow. It isn't even known what type of magecraft you possess as the bodyguard of Rin Tohsaka since the link between you and Blade hasn't been made yet." Drawing back, he puffed on the cigar softly. "Ergo, I can't bring the accusation forward without it being entirely speculative."

Shirou clenched his jaw. Waver had likely known prior to their first conversation about the matter. Though the question most prevalent in the boy's mind was why he hadn't come forward to anyone at all and why he was willingly telling him this information in the first place.

"I know my life is safe." The Lord's intuition went beyond murder investigations. "Not only would killing me, the detective, heighten suspicion of you, I've put a contingency in place should an untimely death occur."

Trying to think ahead himself, Shirou agreed with his line of thought. It would make sense to install a safety. He still wasn't certain why-

"As for why I haven't dug deeper and come to the public with my findings, well," he paused, placed his cigar into an ashtray on the desk, and settled both elbows on the desk with his hands interlocked. "Consider it the only favour I'd ever offer you. While I was content being the lapdog of Reines, I can't deny that my current position is far better. All without having to get my own hands dirty."

"I didn't-"

"What happened in the Fifth Grail War is none of my business, much like these two disappearances." Unclasping his hands, he recollected his cigar and took another drag. "Understand?"

Carefully considering his words, he nodded slowly. "You're saying we both stand to gain from my hypothetical actions."

Cigar in mouth, the Lord nodded. "While I'm not entirely comfortable with allowing a murderer to walk free, pressing the issue has a high chance of revealing my own involvement with Blade and the Magus Killer himself."

Essentially, the Lord would be digging his own grave. In order to tie Shirou to the murders, he'd have to explain Shirou's magecraft, an ability thought to be unique to Blade. If people linked those two, they'd want to know the history and the recommendation signed by the Lord himself would come to question. From there, it wouldn't be a leap at all to link the second life of the Magus Killer's son to the Magus Killer himself.

"Mutually assured destruction," Shirou commented offhand.

"At the same time," the Lord interjected. "This is my one and only favour to you. I can not and do not condone assassins or murderers. My only comfort is the assumption that this spree was to achieve a goal of significant importance to you. Marisbury and Lev were both rather close, so there's a potential explanation for their removal."

Shirou remained tight-lipped. As had been said, he wasn't expected to say anything, so he wouldn't. The less he openly admitted, the better. Instead, he'd change the subject entirely. "Gray wants me to accompany her on a trip somewhere west of London. I came to make sure that would be alright."

Taking one final drag of his cigar — which had been hastily half-smoked already — the Lord extinguished it with a wet finger and placed it on the desk. As he did, the thick, vision-clouding haze began to clear up. "I'll try to release my statement to the other Lords before the weekend. You can go once it's finished." Shirou nodded and began to stand. "Only you and Gray?"

"Lectra wanted to come as well."

"Take her with you, that way I don't need to be worried."

Shirou wanted to feel offended, but considering the circumstances, he couldn't be. It was nothing more than a simple precaution on behalf of the Lord. "I'll let her know," was all he replied with. Standing from his chair, the thick fog had rolled away, allowing him to exit the office back into the club room.

Thankful to be free of the thick, choking scent of tobacco, Shirou walked out of the office and in on the strange sight of Lectra half-heartedly tugging on Flat's arm. "If I'm going on a trip then you're coming with me," she declared.

Grumbling, the boy equally as half-heartedly worked to tug his own limb back. "But I just want to sleep here, can't this wait until later?"

"You aren't excused, it was your decision to stay up all night playing that new game."

"Follow the damn train, CJ," the boy murmured as he lulled in and out of exhausted consciousness.

With an exasperated huff, Lectra released his arm and he quickly rolled over on the couch onto his face. "Fine, but don't expect me to bring anything back for you." Noticing Shirou, Lectra offered a grin. "When are we leaving?"

Shaking his head, he moved toward the exit. "You make it sound like we're traveling overseas."

"We're staying in Britain?"

"Yes, though it's rather far," Gray added for him. Truth be told, he hadn't a clue where they were going, so her interruption was welcomed.

"Would packing for three days be enough?" he asked Gray, who nodded wordlessly. "Then have a bag ready, Lectra." If he were honest with himself, her ecstaticism was a little infectious. Perhaps, for once, this trip would be enjoyable.

… … …

With the door closed, he could finally let loose a slow shaky breath. Having a normal conversation with him was difficult enough, let alone blatantly calling him a murderer. The only thing that allowed him to keep his composure was the half-smoked cigar and even then he still couldn't shake away his nerves.

The Magus Killer was dead but Kiritsugu Emiya lived on in his eyes.

The similarity deepened when he was fighting as if the boy's inner Magus Killer subconsciously worked its way to the surface. Against Svin, where he had been annoyed by stubborn inconsolability, his face was the same splitting, icy visage.

Of course, he had a right to be afraid of the man. Not only had Kiritsugu proved his capabilities in the Fourth Grail War before his very eyes, but he had openly admitted that he could have killed him at any given moment throughout the War.

So much thinking about that time brought him back to that red bridge, to the place his king was struck down by that pompous, gilded asshat.

He hadn't seen the end of the War, but he knew the victor would have had to take down golden-boy and that feat alone was terrifying. If Shirou held even greater potential as Kiritsugu had alluded to, there was no telling what he would be capable of.

The trailing remains of fear left restlessness in its wake. Glancing down at the cigar, he instead picked up a pencil and stuck one end in his mouth to act as a distraction while he thought. Tobacco just wasn't the flavour he sought at that moment.

Still, one question lingered.

"Whydunit?"

It was risky to assassinate a single person so high up and so close to the Clock Tower, let alone two in such a short amount of time. Was there significance in the nine-day delay? The targets themselves were known to be colleagues but had no direct ties to one another he could discover. Did the difference in method hold a clue? He hadn't been able to examine Marisbury's body personally and he trusted the Animusphere family no further than he could throw them. To that end, he considered the possibility that Marisbury may have simply disappeared voluntarily. Though, if he followed that hypothesis, why would such an affluent member of the Tower fake their own death unless they were verging on a breakthrough?

He couldn't shake the cold, heartless eyes of the Magus Killer from his mind.

Despite the visual similarity, Gray's report explicitly claimed there was a vast difference between father and son. Until Shirou was pushed too far or something threatened those he was close to. At that point, the son almost grew more vicious than the father.

Perhaps his whydunit lied there. The evidence lined up with a classic deal gone sideways.

He had claimed that he wouldn't publicize his suspicions, but he said nothing about confirming them for himself. Determining Shirou's motive would affect his decision to work with the boy in the future, so it was — in a sense — necessary to solve the greater case. Waver tried his best to avoid being a hypocrite, which meant he couldn't denounce killing another if it were for sound reasoning.

Leaning back in his chair, he carelessly flicked the pencil from his mouth onto the desk. The abrupt decision to travel once again brought potential. If he timed his report appropriately, Shirou would be away from the Tower precisely when he was free from politics and paperwork. Unguarded, he'd be able to interrogate one Illyasviel von Einzbern.

… … …

As per the Lord's request, Shirou scheduled the trip to take place in four days, a Friday. Waver's findings on his case were released as a report to the Lords of the Tower on the evening of the third day.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get any information on the report or its internals so he was left to speculate on what could have been published. He knew that his name was likely to be involved somewhere within, but that was expected. Any known or potential assassin was bound to be listed.

Despite his efforts, he wasn't able to get a copy of the report himself from Waver. The journey to the man's office wasn't wasted, however, as he had visited for such a purpose on the day he was slated to travel with Gray. Turned down, he reaffirmed he was safe to leave and collected the girl on his way out.

Watching as she stood from the loveseat, she brushed down the edges of her outfit and seemingly ran through a checklist in her mind. She had opted for a heavier outfit than usual, dropping the pleated, plaid skirt and zip-up turtleneck for a black skirted dress with neatly tied white strings on the front. Draping her shoulders, was a shorter-than-usual shawl that featured a thicker fur collar in white. It was the same colour as the dress underneath, but a series of intricate Celtic knots stitched in a light grey drew the eye. The shawl itself hid and contained a floor-draping cloak the same colour as the knots. The length of material, combined with heavy boots and stockings, made Shirou wonder if she would have trouble walking without tripping over herself.

Examining her, he couldn't help but ask, "You're not bringing anything?" She hadn't given him a straight answer on where precisely they'd be going, but she had been clear it was distant from civilization. He'd packed for three days as agreed just in case, but Gray was empty-handed. She peered up at him from behind her cloak and nodded firmly without saying anything. "Well, I have snacks and water if you want. And if you get your clothes dirty I can project a new set for you."

Once the words left his mouth, he realized how that might have sounded. Even he had to admit it was a little weird, considering he practically admitted to knowing the exact form of her body. Taking a half step back, he cast his head aside in embarrassment. "That's probably a bad idea, just forget I said anything."

"And she calls me perverted," a muffled voice chuckled.

"Let's get Lectra," Gray deflected while moving to leave with some purpose.

Following behind her, he silently cursed his own lack of thought and hoped that it hadn't upset her too much. The awkwardness of the exchange left the walk to Lectra's dorm silent.

Softly, the girl knocked on the door and patiently waited for it to open. When it didn't for some time, Shirou urged her to knock harder. Rapping against it, he could hear a sudden noise from within and Lectra's hurried claims that she was coming. Wearing his suit, he had no watch to check the time, though it couldn't have been more than half an hour since last he checked when it was eight o'clock.

He'd told her that they'd be leaving early, but maybe she'd simply forgotten. Eventually, the door opened and a half-asleep Lectra lazily rubbed her forehead. "You guys ready to go?"

"Shouldn't we be asking you that question?"

"I got so tired waiting for you that I fell asleep," she huffed. Clearly a lie, he let it slide. Reaching down, she picked up a messenger bag from the floor and slung it onto her shoulder. Affixing it comfortably, she ran a hand through her hair and stepped from her room.

Prepared, the trio set off with Gray in the lead. Considering that the others had slim to no idea where exactly they were going, it made sense. With Lectra's questioning, Gray revealed the route they'd follow. From London, they'd take a train to a city out west called Cardiff. From there, they'd take a five-hour bus ride to finally reach Blackmore. Some time ago, Shirou had originally expected Glastonbury, the alleged burial site of King Arthur. However, after mentioning this to Gray in the past, she had explained that the British King's corpse was in fact buried in her hometown of Blackmore.

Going over the plan in his mind, he concluded they'd arrive, at the earliest, sometime near five in the afternoon. "Do you know people there?" Lectra prodded.

"Yes," Gray agreed shortly.

"Your parents?"

It was barely perceptible through the layers of loose clothing, but Shirou undoubtedly noticed the girl flinch. "Yes," she agreed once more.

"Are we staying with them?"

The response was an immediate "No."

Taken aback, Lectra opened her mouth to ask another question but held herself back. She tried two more times to ask a question but reconsidered it each time before finally going with, "Anyone see any good movies lately?"

Beyond the initial awkward beginning, Lectra eventually worked the group into steady conversation over recent film experiences as they reached the train and entered the car. He hadn't been on many trains, with his first exposure being the London underground. He had expected personalized cabins, but the train they were on used an open design with individual seating, some of which faced one another around a table. Four seats to a table, they were able to sit together without worry. Questioning his prior thoughts aloud, Gray and Lectra both explained that only trains expected to make long journeys featured cabins unless you were willing to pay extra.

Settled in, Lectra drew forth a deck of cards from her bag to help pass the time. "So am I allowed to know why we're going to wherever it is we're going?" Shirou and Gray exchanged a look, then both shook their heads. Shuffling cards, the girl blinked a few times then shrugged. "Gives me time to explore when we get there while you two do your thing, I guess."

"Do you just like traveling that much?" Shirou asked, curious why she would tag along despite not being involved at all.

"The more places I go, the higher my chances are."

Shirou waited for her to finish, but she never did. "Chances for what?"

"Now it's my turn to be mysterious," she chuckled. Shortly after, all humour drained away from her face. "Chances to learn about my dad."

Seldom did Lectra let her face sadden by any degree. It was nearly as rare as her discussing her parents. He'd avoided touching upon the subject, but if he learned more, he might be able to help. "What happened to him?"

The girl shrugged. "He left without much more than a goodbye when I was thirteen. Had to live on my own since then."

"And you still want to find him?"

She nodded, began dealing out seven cards to each of them, then placed the deck within the center of the table. "He wasn't a bad father from what I can remember. Besides, you know how it works as a magus. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions." She flipped the top-most card face-up, a six of spades. "I'd just like to know why."

Shirou moved his hand to collect his own cards but Gray grabbed his wrist before he could. "Using tracing is cheating."

"But any other magecraft isn't?" Lectra asked, something Shirou had been an instant from doing himself.

Gray reconsidered. "Any magecraft is cheating," she settled on.

Lectra agreed, but Shirou couldn't help but stick on the point. Was he so untrustworthy that he had to be explicitly told not to trace the cards? He hadn't even considered it but after being made aware of the possibility, he became rather tempted.

Over the course of two and a half hours, the group played cards, made idle chatter and eventually — with heavy pestering on behalf of Lectra — revealed the reason for their journey. At least, partly. Shirou and Gray were careful to leave out mention of Avalon. The girl had been moderately surprised to learn of King Arthur's true burial site but she easily empathetically understood Gray's reasoning. After all, was explained, she was even more excited to help a friend out.

Additionally, along the way, Shirou was able to learn a few more details on Lectra's father. He knew a total of four different languages but tried to exclusively speak French at all times. Despite that fact, he wasn't born in France, nor from any country that natively spoke it.

Allegedly, they had lived in a small town near the meeting point of Switzerland, France and Italy named Chamonix. She learned ether-based magecraft from her father, and had what could be considered a typical childhood for a magus: taught in the dark confines of a basement for all hours of the night.

It was the most he had heard about the man and her past, but his questions seemingly made her uncomfortable. To spare her discomfort and be content with what he had managed to gather, the two switched to a topic Lectra had been waiting on: combat.

She had come up with a number of new moves and techniques, some of which relied upon or simply updated existing plans they had made back in their time as partners in the Mage's Tournament. Eventually, after a few games of cards and when the plans grew too detailed, Lectra began using cards as markers on the table to act as a pseudo-battle ground.

All in all, her plans and suggested improvements had a decent amount of thought put into them. They'd be effective, if not for one issue. "When are we ever going to use any of these?" he asked as she finished an explanation.

The woman peered at him for a moment, furrowed her brow, then shrugged. "There's bound to be a situation eventually. We can't have something as cool as this go unused."

It felt like a waste of his memory to keep track of all the plans and code words she cooked up. Though saying that aloud would be far too rude. "If you say so," he settled on instead.

"See, you can't deny it," she touted triumphantly. Peering out the nearby window for a moment, she looked to Gray. "I think it will be cool to visit your hometown."

"Why's that?" the woman in question replied monotonously.

"I'm just curious," Lectra defended. "Nobody seems to know about your childhood, so going to the place you grew up is pretty big stuff."

"I can only hope neither one of you learn anything about it," she replied coldly. "I'd never willingly return to this place but I've run out of options."

Lectra made a soft "oh" and the atmosphere grew awkward. "So why did we pack for three days?"

"Just in case we can't leave," she claimed ominously. "That's why I didn't go alone and asked Shirou initially."

He really was just a bodyguard for everyone around him, wasn't he? "I'm not going to have to kill an entire village worth of people, am I?" Turning his head to look at Gray, the woman met his gaze and stared straight back at him unflinchingly. She didn't say a word, but she didn't need to. Her expression gave him all the answers he needed. It verged on desperation, with a peculiar mix of hopefulness that he would deduce her thoughts so she wouldn't need to speak them aloud. "Right. Be prepared but hopefully, it doesn't come to that," he predicted.

He must have been somewhat accurate, as she didn't correct him and instead resumed looking down at the table in front of her once more. "If the people there are angry with you, why don't you modify your appearance with magecraft?" Lectra asked.

"It wouldn't work, they'd be able to see through that."

"What if you were inside one of my clumps? They're hard to detect things through."

"You can do that?" Shirou immediately asked.

"Well, yeah," she spoke as if the conclusion was obvious. "I can tell them to follow whatever input you give them. It'll be like you're piloting a mech suit but everything is cold and squishy."

"What's a mech suit?" Gray asked.

"It's a big robot you sit inside to control," she explained happily. "I'd show you but we're not in the best location." Peering around the train cabin, she looked upon the handful of normal people.

"If you think it will work, there's no harm in trying," Gray relented. "It would make things significantly easier if they weren't aware I was present."

As the girls began to discuss the specifics of Lectra's magecraft, Shirou lost interest and focused his attention on Gray's silent request. Killing an entire village was a little extreme in his mind. He supposed using blunt objects might work, using pain as a deterrent by aiming for non-vitals and extremities. That was assuming things would come to such a point at all. He wasn't sure what to expect once they arrived at Blackmore but Gray made it seem as if they were walking into an enemy stronghold.

Following some more games and idle chatter, the train eventually reached Cardiff. While not as large as London, it was still a sprawling city comparable to Fuyuki. Transferring from train to bus meant their card game and battle planning had come to a definite close. Unlike the train, the bus featured no table and the group completed the second leg of the journey mostly in silence.

It was a long trip with a handful of stops along the way for other passengers to board and leave. Lectra and Gray both decided to catch up on their sleep but Shirou used the time to go over more of his mental armoury. Around halfway, the bus was completely empty spare the three of them seated in the back. With nobody to see, Shirou began projecting some of the smaller weapons from his short list of potentially interesting weapons. At some point, Gray shifted and her head rested up against his shoulder. Doing his best not to disturb the woman slowed him down, but he knew he would be in for a long ride. Eventually, when he had managed to go through every dagger and most of the arrows he wanted to, he decided to follow her example and took a nap himself.

… … …

The alleyway held a number of people wielding small knives, baseball bats and whatever they could hold from the alley itself. Further down, one of them was dragging Illya by the wrist as she called out to him. Including that one, there were nine in total.

He didn't waste time questioning the course of his actions. He projected Riesenarm, planted both feet and swung with all the strength he had at the first man. Colliding, he was taken off his feet by the sheer weight of the weapon. Releasing it as it carried on, the weapon and the man at the end of it collided with the wall. Crashing through, it lodged halfway in the building, stuck against a mangled, crushed corpse.

Focused forward, he assigned each person ahead of him a number to keep track of them all before proceeding. Crouching forward beneath the handle of the hammer, he projected a handful of metal shavings and flung them upwards to strike the eyes of two men, One and Two, ahead of him. The two men cried in pain and began swinging wildly, trying to defend themselves while blinded. Projecting two straight blades, he rose from a half crouch and as one fully formed, he slammed the point through the underside of One's jaw.

Leaving the weapon in its new home and lining up new ones mentally, Shirou used his remaining weapon to slash the throat of Two. A bit off to one side, Three tried to stab into Shirou's shoulder with his dagger. Reacting and outright catching the man by the wrist before he could cause harm, Shirou flipped his remaining weapon upside down and struck Three's elbow with the pommel. A grisly crunch echoed through the alley and precluded the clatter of Three's weapon as his then broken arm released his weapon. Bending the wrong way, the man screamed in pain even after Shirou embedded his blade into his stomach with a simple backhanded thrust.

Pushing Three away against the wall, Shirou armed himself with his next set of swords and caught Four's weapon — a heavy piece of broken concrete on the end of some rebar — in the cross of his own blades. Using his sharpened weapons like a set of scissors, Shirou sheared the rebar and its wielder stumbled to recover as the weight of his weapon changed drastically. Head lowered, Shirou flicked his wrists, reversed his grip on the blades and impaled them both in Four's back.

Finished with another, a searing pain radiated from the right side of his abdomen. Snapping his head in that direction, he found Six had succeeded in jamming a folding knife just below his kidney. Gritting his teeth, more than a dozen bladed projections formed and fired, finding purchase in Six and throwing them back against the wall. A few more projections affixed the man permanently to the stone like a gruesome piece of art.

Five was larger than the others and was quickly upon him midswing with a heavy right hook. Reinforcing his arm and pushing mana through his gloves, Shirou retaliated with a punch of his own. Two forces collided, and an array of cracks and snaps bounced off the alley walls. Five's fist was unable to take the impact and practically exploded from the force. Reeling, the man screamed while staring at his mangled appendage. With his other hand, Shirou threw a heavy left hook. Contacting their face, saliva and blood spewed out alike with the sound of shattered bone and cartilage. Overcome by the blow, they fell over backward and a second crack followed as their skull struck concrete.

Seven and Eight, discouraged and fearful over the rapid death of their comrades, were rooted in place. Nervously moving their arms and fiddling with their weapons in indecision, a baseball bat and pistol respectively, they both seemed to be making a decision in their mind.

Shirou made the decision for them and projected a bow. "Time Alter: Triple Accel," echoed in his mind and the world slowed to a crawl. Eight moved to level his pistol but was far from being a point of concern. Two arrows nocked and drawn, Shirou would deal with the last two in one attack. Releasing the bowstring and modifying the trajectory of each arrow individually, he finalized everything just as the flash and distorted sound of gunfire began. Twisting to one side while simultaneously dropping Time Alter, both arrows flew true and struck the foreheads of Seven and Eight. A snap stung Shirou's ear as both the snap of the bullet's passing and the sound of its firing reached him.

With all dead, he allowed a full breath to leave his chest before walking toward Illya. Extending a hand, he tried to be reassuring with "You're safe now."

The closer he got, the faster he realized the expression on her face was anything but grateful.

Fear, horror, panic. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape as she stared at him with genuinely mortified features. "You're a monster!"

The words stung, far worse than the knife wound in his abdomen. Flinching as if she had punched him square in the face, he peered down at the hand he had just offered her to find it dripping with blood. "I was just-"

He cut himself off. What had he done? Sure he'd rescued her, but all of those people were normal humans. She could have saved herself easily. She'd watched him murder nine separate people right in front of her when she could have hypnotized them all and ended it without bloodshed.

"Now you're learning," a voice spoke to him from the side. Turning, the world blurred and he was standing in his own personal world amidst falling ash. Before him was Kiara, with arms crossed. "When it comes to thick-headedness you win first prize every time, you know that? I haven't been able to manipulate your dreams no matter what I try but as soon as it comes to your sister I can take control like that." Snapping her fingers for emphasis, the world returned to the alleyway with Kiara behind Illya, frozen in time. "She's always been your soft spot, isn't that right?" the woman asked, laying a hand upon his motionless sister.

Shirou blinked a few times, looked down at his hands and confirmed they were clean, then clenched them both into fists. "So you used her to make some sort of point?"

"I wasn't the one who immediately jumped to murder. I wasn't the one who mercilessly slaughtered nine people without so much as a second thought. You thought the same thing yourself, those were just normal humans. They weren't magi, Illya was never really in danger."

"Better to be safe than sorry," he murmured half-heartedly.

"Then think about it a different way," she huffed in frustration. "Every skill you've acquired in your life has only and will only ever be applicable in the eradication of life. You are a killing machine, focused only on eliminating your opponents and targets as effectively as possible."

He shook his head. "That's not right."

"I've seen it." Raising one hand, she poked one finger against the side of her own head. "Keep forgetting I'm stuck in here with you? Every person you meet, your first thought is always about how you can kill them just in case." She accented her point with air quotes. "You honestly think that's healthy?"

"Every magus thinks that way."

"I didn't," she shot back quickly. "I'm forced to now. A side effect of piggybacking on the fringe of your subconscious." She continued holding that over his head every time they spoke. He hadn't intended to trap her in his mind. While he didn't want to throw blame around, it was a fault with her magecraft that ended with her in his head. "The word you're looking for is consequences," she finished, reading his thoughts.

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Off yourself and end this." Huffing and flicking her head to displace hair that had fallen onto her face she pursed her lips. "Though that's just wishful thinking. If you actually cared about preserving our sanity you could start by reigning back this murderous psychopath thing you've been working on."

Before he could make a response, the world around him quivered and his vision rippled like it was a still pond being disturbed by a rock. Ashes from the ground flew upwards, creating a flurry that was difficult to see through. "What's happening?" he asked reflexively.

"Looks like it's time to wake up, I can't hold you here anymore."

"What do you mean hold me here?"

Through the flurry of ashes, Kiara stepped in front of him. "Hold your breath," she directed, much to his confusion, while giving him a sharp shove at the shoulder. The surprise move caught him off guard and he fell backward. Closing his eyes and bracing for the expected impact with the ground, he landed in a pool of icy water that shocked his entire body. Opening them wide reflexively from the unexpected sensation, he found himself jarred back in his seat of the bus, being shaken at the shoulder by Gray. In response to his sudden awakening, her hand snapped back as if he had burned her.

"We're here," she noted with a strange look before slowly turning to leave the bus.

He was still in a daze, struggling to differentiate the line between dream and reality. It wasn't often that he could remember his dreams, but it seemed that one had been cemented in his memories. Placing his forehead in one hand and squeezing his temples, a mental conflict brewed. Was he really becoming some type of monster? He had sworn to do whatever was necessary, but to what end?

On the other hand, if he reigned back and the worst happened, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Kiara had given him something to lament over, which he definitely hadn't asked for.

Rising from his seat and slinging his bag over one shoulder, he stepped out of the bus into a dreary, damp scene. Ahead was a steep, sparsely graveled road that led through a heavily treed area to the top of a mountain. While it wasn't raining at the moment, the water dripping from the ends of leaves on the surrounding foliage revealed earlier precipitation. Off to the side, the sun began to slip beneath the horizon, casting orange light through the trees.

Dismounted, the bus departed, leaving the trio alone in the rays of the setting sun. "It's a decent walk up this hill, but we'll need to go over some rules before we arrive."

Shirou offered a glance to Lectra, who shared his confusion. Out of sync, the two both asked, "Rules?"

"If we don't abide by the rules the gravekeeper will know we're there before we get where we need to be." Turning, the girl began up the path. Lagging behind, Lectra and Shirou shared a look of confusion before the former shrugged and they both followed behind. "Once we're there, we need to stop and pray to the Black Madonna statue, then we can head to the graveyard but you mustn't walk off as you can't be there alone."

Lectra voiced her thoughts. "The entire village has some sort of bounded field that detects if you pray to a statue or walk outside alone?"

"It's more like a contract between the gravekeepers and the village. They can sense when one of the rules are broken."

Shirou thought to ask something important. "Does this gravekeeper not want us there?"

Gray shook her head, something barely detectable through her hood from behind. "It would just make things inconvenient."

"Didn't you say we're allowed to be here?" Lectra asked. "Are we not supposed to be here?"

A muffled voice from underneath Gray's cloak spoke on her behalf. "Technically, she wasn't the one told to never return. Maybe Bersac just hated Lord El-Melloi."

Shirou pinched the bridge of his nose, having put all the pieces together. "So I'm here as backup in case things go wrong."

"Don't forget you're also being used for–" Gray roughly smacked her own hip, cutting the muffled voice off with a cry of pain. "Alright fine, I'll stay quiet!" Shirou had understood what Add had intended to say and was thankful he'd been silenced. After all, the fewer people that knew about Avalon, the lesser his chances of being placed into a jar or hunted by enforcers or really anyone.

At his side, Lectra murmured, "Guess we both overpacked, huh?"

"I'm not too sure," Shirou hummed, looking over his shoulder. "That bus probably doesn't show up regularly. We might be here for a day at the least." While he couldn't really tell, he doubted the bus driver knew of the world of magecraft. Shirou had been sleeping, so he hadn't seen if Gray had spoken to him about an expected return time.

"Could occupy our time with another spar." Her voice held an edge of hopeful enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm that was mercilessly crushed by Shirou's firm "No." Expecting her to plead, he offered an explanation in advance. "I don't want to carry you all the way back to London."

With an annoyed, blurted "Hey!" he received a playful punch to the arm. "It's not my fault that you're the only one strong enough to push my limits. Besides, isn't that how you wound up so strong in the first place?" Shirou opened his mouth to deny the accusation but concluded that she was entirely accurate. Lectra took notice of his pause and finalized the conversation triumphantly with "Exactly."

"If it's that important, I'll make an attempt to spar with you more often, but only once we're back in London." He didn't have to look to see the girl was beaming. It wasn't that he was opposed to the idea of training her, it was that he was worried. Not of losing or anything so petty and vain. He was worried he'd accidentally kill her by having to draw out stronger and stronger weapons to compensate for her growing skill.

There would be a point in the near future when Lectra's abilities would begin to genuinely meet his own and their spars would become reminiscent of full-fledged fights to the death. If their most recent bout was anything to go off of, that point was nearing soon.

Casting a look to the girl in question at his side, an abrupt warning sign flared up in his mind. Stopping and turning to look back down the path, Shirou narrowed his eyes and surveyed the trees.

"What's wrong? Hear something back there?" Lectra asked, going ignored as Shirou focused on trying to spot any movement within the foliage. Eventually, Shirou relaxed and wondered if his instincts had been wrong. While they never had before, there was always a possibility.

"Thought I did, but I guess not," he replied. Turning to face back up the hill, he motioned with his head. "Let's catch up." Further up, Gray neared the top of the path.

Cresting the small hill, the treed pathway opened into a compact village upon a flattish plateau. A short distance away, upon a higher level than the village, loomed an ominous church. Fog trailed along the ground at shin height, originating from the cemetery Shirou could barely make out behind the church. Roiling along, it licked the outside walls of the church and spilled from its raised landing into the main village itself. Unlike the buildings surrounding the house of God, which displayed marked signs of romanesque design and inspiration, the church was significantly more modern, relatively speaking. Built of bricks with an almost scale-like pattern, Shirou placed its pointed arches and sharp gables as gothic. There was a distinct time period difference between construction that wasn't found elsewhere. Had the church been an afterthought?

Gray slowed to a halt ahead, then surveyed the village around her, prompting Shirou to do the same. Besides the fog, nothing stirred in sight. Activating his circuits and running a quick trace, he found a distinct lack of any signs of life. No fires in their places, no strain in the furniture and a moderate amount of unswept, settled dust on all surfaces.

He considered that nobody was present, but understood he hadn't a clue what to expect and decided it best to ask. "Are there supposed to be people here?"

"Yes," Gray replied bluntly. The girl took a small breath and continued onwards. "It doesn't change anything."

Lectra and Shirou exchanged another glance before the former shivered violently. "That was weird," she murmured before both resumed following Gray. "I know this is basically a cliche, but this place feels like death."

Taking a deep breath, he could feel what she meant. Even with the earlier rain, the air still felt dry and stale. "You're right," he huffed, breath just struggling to remain a visible vapour in the cold air. "It is cliche."

The group continued through the village, passing empty, unlit homes with no signs of life. Even with information gleaned by tracing, Shirou struggled to determine a possible cause. Shoes and clothes were still where they should be and the rotten remnants of food sat in various states of consumption on tabletops.

He was concerned, and he wasn't convinced that it was mere paranoia. While they continued to the church, Shirou held out one hand and projected a sword-shaped gem within his grasp. Passing it to Lectra, he asked her to hold onto it, "Just in case," while he queued up weapons for himself.

Climbing a short set of stairs up to the level of the church, Shirou's suspicions only grew. The main door was wide open and deliberately tied back to remain so. While not an expert in religious matters, he was familiar that doing so was a sign of welcoming in the local procession during their day of worship.

But it was Friday.

"Gray, this place isn't right. We either need to get out of here or do what you wanted as quickly as possible." Turning around, Shirou mentally prepared his bow in preparation.

"But the statue-"

Shirou doubled down. "I've traced the village, nobody is here, everyone is gone. On the way up, I had the feeling we were being watched and I can't be certain whoever it was didn't wipe out this village."

There was silence behind him for a moment before the girl softly agreed. "We'll be quick and leave. The bus won't arrive for another two days but there is one that comes daily to another, nearby town a few hours walk away." Moving past him, Gray strode along the outside of the church in the direction of the graveyard.

Keeping close together, Shirou directed Lectra to move ahead of him so he could take the rear. With purpose, the trio traipsed through the graveyard as a more consolidated unit. Passing headstones of various ages and designs, Shirou wondered in passing just how long the village had existed and how many had died over the years.

"I'm the gravekeeper," Gray abruptly murmured, a phrase barely caught in the deathly stillness of the fog. "Someone has entered the graveyard alone," she relayed with more confidence.

"How do you know?" Lectra asked.

"I told you, gravekeepers know if the rules are broken. I can't tell you who or where, but I know that someone, somewhere within the graveyard is alone." Her voice easily betrayed the mixed emotions of fear, confusion and disbelief.

"They're tracking us. Not good," Shirou concluded.

"What are we looking for?" Lectra asked, trying to sound helpful.

"I know where we're going," Gray replied with stiff bitterness.

Continuing through the fog, they eventually reached a large mausoleum showered with half-wilted flowers and straw and stick poppets. Grandiose at one point, age had tarnished its construction despite the attentive maintenance performed upon it. Cracked stone patched with filler and faded engravings were the most prominent sign of the structure's age.

Despite the weathering, however, Shirou recognized the unmistakable image carved into the masonry: Excalibur and Avalon. "Saber–" Lectra shook her head slightly. "I mean, King Arthur's grave. But why is it out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"This village and the graveyard have existed even before her time. It was never famous, but that meant her body could rest without being disturbed." Gray ran one hand along the artwork carved into the mausoleum.

"And we came here specifically to disturb it?" Lectra asked plainly.

Gray offered a cold look from beneath her hood. Wordlessly, without even looking, she used one finger to press inwards a small diamond within the stone's art. A loud clunk resounded from within the mausoleum and the sound of rhythmic churning stirred dust from hidden joints. Parts of the artwork upon the face split apart as the bottom edge lifted upwards like a hatch, revealing a dark staircase into the earth.

"I guess you can't disturb a burial site when it isn't where they're buried," Lectra surmised.

"She'll be at the very end. Since I can use Add as a light, it makes sense for me to be at the back," Gray explained. Receiving a less-than-confident look from Lectra, the girl merely nodded. "I'll guide you."

Cautiously, Lectra peered down the staircase and huffed. "Creepy catacombs aren't going to explore themselves," she declared while taking the first few steps down.

With Lectra on the way down, Gray glanced at him expectantly, waiting for him to enter as well. Looking between the dark hole and the foggy graveyard, Shirou weighed his options quickly. "Go on without me," he settled on.

"But-"

"Take it with you," he instructed. Motioning for her to come closer, out of sight of Lectra, he looked inward and sought out the golden, gleaming light.

"You can't–"

Withdrawing Avalon, the vacancy of its presence in his mind was glaringly apparent. "Keep it close to you, keep it safe," he directed further. "Considering what you've been guarding, this might as well be a children's toy." Hefting the sheath in his hands, he passed its soft, gleaming light to Gray's hesitant hands. Drawing it against her chest and clutching it tight, she stood awkwardly for a moment, as if rationalizing what was happening.

With the refraction of light due to the fog, her pale hair took on Avalon's glow, changing into a pale gold. No longer just a reflection, it was the closest she had ever looked to Saber and the jarring change caught Shirou by surprise.

He was forcibly reminded that she had never seen the end of the War, that he had never expressed his gratitude for her efforts. Thankfully, Gray snapped back to herself and with a soft thanks, she started down the staircase.

Once within, the internal mechanism began churning once more to close the hatch. With a firm grating noise of stone-on-stone, the doorway became undetectable once more. Turning to look out into the graveyard, he squinted to try and spot whoever was following them.

Detecting nothing visually, Shirou carefully laid a hand on the mausoleum wall. Before he could send out a tracing pulse, something bounced on the ground ahead of him and rolled to his feet. Quickly, a spooling whine began from the device and Shirou's first instinct was to leap back as quickly as he could. Feet leaving the ground, he clamped his eyes shut and shielded his face from the anticipated explosion.

A wave of cold air washed over his body, which surprised him enough to reopen his eyes. Instead of the foggy graveyard, he was in an open swamp and instead of crashing into the mausoleum that had been behind him, he instead landed in soft soil that cushioned his fall.

Lifting himself up quickly, his confusion deepened. He could see and hear where he had been just an instant ago. The whirring noise from the device that had been right below him echoed through the air like a ghastly wail.

On his feet, he estimated to be a little over two-hundred feet away from his previous position, stuck in a wet, unkempt swamp that desperately tried to keep him in place in the mud. It would take a concerted effort to walk back to the graveyard and he risked tripping along the way.

Whoever had tailed them was somehow capable of moving people near instantly and they'd managed to place him in the best position for an attack. Speaking to the wind, he decided it best to avoid a fight if he could. "I don't know who you are, but you're making a mistake." Turning on the spot, trying to see through the fog, he listened for a response that didn't come. He hadn't been attacked, but his instincts were alert regardless. "Are you the one who cleared this village?"

Once again, he received nothing. At least, not in the form of words. Something small rebounded off the back of his skull, delivering a stinging pain that was more annoying than debilitating. Twitching from the blow, an acorn landed on the ground, steaming softly in the cool air.

Not only did they have a sense of humour, they had the sense to test their target before making their first move. Was he dealing with an assassin? Separation, lack of communication, testing of his reactions all aligned with such a motive.

If he could get rid of the fog, he might have a better chance of seeing his assailant. Skimming his catalog for weapons that could affect the air, he landed on a very peculiar, unorthodox noble phantasm.

He hadn't considered it as a separate entity, though obviously, Archer had cleverly made the distinction. Crafting it within his mind, the latticed construction forced him to use all his concentration to project.

It was a shame to use so much mana on a one-and-done projection, but if it allowed him to see, he'd be that much better off. Bracing himself, he projected the transparent form of Invisible Air. Unattached to its parent weapon, Excalibur, the air collapsed on itself, then rapidly uncoiled and flung apart. Violently lashing out with belts of powerful wind, the fog was blasted away, nearly taking Shirou with it.

Cleared of visual disruption, he still couldn't see any enemy in his near surroundings. Tracing to locate them wouldn't do him much good. The soil was dynamic enough that finding a biological signal on top would threaten to boil his brain.

Projecting his bow, Shirou carefully turned in place and scanned once more, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Finding nothing, he grew concerned that his assailant was more interested in tracking down Lectra and Gray.

Taking one step forward, every alarm in his entire body rang out. Reacting blindly, he threw his upper body downwards, planting his bow into the ground. A rush of hot air billowed over his head. Planting his other hand, levering his body and twisting his lower half, he spotted skin and bright red moving behind him. Kicking with his legs, and pushing out with his arms, he lashed back at his assailant but was bewildered when they seemingly disappeared, leaving behind a cold breeze.

Body carried by his own momentum, he landed back on his feet and prepared for retaliation. Unmet with attack, he noted his assailant stood some distance away, glaring at him threateningly.

It was a woman, nearing six feet tall. Dark brown hair, equally dark eyes, an olive complexion, and she was smoking, quite literally. Steam poured from the skin exposed to the air and there was quite a lot of it at that. Despite the cold climate, her upper half was practically bare, decency preserved by a thin, tight tube top in red. A jacket of some unknown variety sat tied around her waist, below which she wore black hot pants. On her feet, likely the most practical element of her ensemble were black running shoes he'd expect on someone out for a jog.

Shirou had her motive long before she spoke a single word. "Whoever put you up to this didn't pay you enough," he threatened. He didn't know and had never seen the woman, but her intentions were plain as day. Fighting wasn't his goal. If he revealed his reality marble or any of his powerful projections, he'd be forced to kill her.

"Already fell for the oldest trick in the book, can't be that bad." Shirou blinked and she was gone.

It wasn't that she had moved quickly, she simply just vanished.

Standing bemused as a warm breeze washed over him, he panned his surroundings to relocate her. Mid-turn, his instincts directed his hands and his body moved to block a strike from nothing.

Except, when he felt the impact, she was there when she hadn't been so much as an instant prior. His body moved purely on instinct, moving and twisting his bow to block, parry and narrowly avoid a genuine onslaught of blows. A puff of warm air accompanied each one, steadily fueling Shirou's conclusion.

Arms beginning to ache from the high-speed motions, he was grateful when they stopped and she created distance between them once again. Beyond being noticeably steamier than before, she was unharmed.

"You're fast," they both claimed simultaneously.

Furrowing his brow, Shirou reared up his bow. Projecting a sword arrow as he drew back the bow to keep up an illusion of a mystic code, he fired as soon as he was comfortable.

He didn't blink.

The arrow moved on its own.

He hadn't moved or altered its trajectory. Simply put, one moment it was nearing its target and the very next it slipped by in the direction of the village. It hadn't wobbled nor skewed nor been redirected at all. It looked as if it had been instantaneously shifted.

Drawing and firing twice more only achieved the same outcome, albeit with a marginal — yet detectable — delay.

From their brief exchange and his cursory examination, he'd been able to glean a wealth of information. The movement was her magecraft at work. Somehow, she was capable of shifting both objects and people through the air. It wasn't teleportation, far from it.

Beyond tricks of her magecraft, he gleaned that she wasn't used to her opponents witnessing her skills or surviving this long against them at all. They shared that in common at least. Kiritsugu's book never told of an assassin or freelancer with such an ability, meaning she was either new and unknown or good enough to have never been known in the first place.

Mind racing in the space between her next assault, he cataloged what was known and tried to decipher what she was capable of. Could she move air? Could she move objects? What were the limits of her magecraft? She had been able to move him a considerable distance in an instant, but it seemed to generate an excessive amount of heat in her body. It was expensive, perhaps her weakness lied there?

He was running out of free thinking time. His options were limited considering he wouldn't be fast enough to engage her up close. He'd either need to overwhelm her with numbers or find something she couldn't avoid or move.

The former was his main modus operandi already. Why change what wasn't broken?

Lowering his bow, he queued up a number of simple weapons and began forming them overhead. He couldn't even complete a dozen before she rightly made a move. Hoping it would dissuade her from charging further, he launched his prepped volley into the ground straight ahead to block a forward assault.

Like it had before, his perception shifted in an instant. Instead of being a decent distance away, she was directly ahead of him, just on the other side of a makeshift wall of swords that landed far closer than he planned. Accompanying the shift in distance, was a distinct warm breeze.

Displacement Magecraft.

It was a field his own magecraft related to, though this seemed different. She wasn't substituting one location with another or really substituting something with another at all.

She was compressing and expanding the space between two points that already existed. It's what allowed her to move so fast, to move him and to alter his projectiles. Simple, yet effective in capable hands.

Which was a problem considering she was capable, and such a feat threatened to be a perfect counter to him unless his limits could exceed hers.

The wall of blades offered enough time for Shirou to produce two dozen more, which he used to bombard her location. With a slight hop just enough to get both feet off the ground, she moved away, drawing a cold breeze over his shoulders and allowing his bombardment to miss.

A sharp exhale on her behalf released a near-white plume of breath. She was overheating already and he guessed it was due to the excessive use of her magecraft. It explained her state of dress or lack thereof. Pausing once more, he decided to follow Kiara's advice. "Just walk away right now. I don't know you, and I don't want to kill you."

The woman pursed her lips, furrowed her brow and focused on breathing. Whether she was simply gathering her strength or making a decision, he couldn't tell. He didn't need her to speak to know his offer wasn't all that appealing. She'd likely been paid to kill him, and with her anonymous status even among someone as well-versed as Kiritsugu, this revelation to him spelled the end of either her or her career. It was her version of his reality marble. He simply knew too much.

Tossing aside the bow in his hands, he hoisted the swords from their point in the ground and moved them back to hover overhead. There, they joined another group to increase their numbers further. His best bet was still to overwhelm her with numbers, were such a thing still possible.

He didn't bother with conversation. Her silence was enough of a statement in and of itself. Launching a sequential barrage of weapons, the woman expertly weaved through his attacks. Accelerating his projectiles, shifting them to glide just outside her body, moving forward faster than he could predict.

In less than a second, she was upon him, and Shirou fired a blade straight down to block her strike. Clanging off its surface, a pair of weapons materialized in both hands in mid-motion. Blades that were simultaneously unfamiliar but the most used weapons of his arsenal.

Kanshou and Bakuya, Archer's married blades. They were summoned with purpose, but he needed an opportunity to use them effectively.

Twisting to block the woman's strikes, he found his own movement far faster than he was used to. The fact he was borrowing from Archer's abilities was plain as day.

Not only had his speed been elevated to servant levels, his instincts, and undoubtedly his strength had as well. He wasn't just keeping up with the woman anymore, he was even capable of striking back.

Blocking her fist with the flat of one blade, he thrust out with the other and caught something with the edge.

Blinking was enough time for her to shift backward where she could survey the damage. Looking down, she pressed a hand against a grazing cut an inch above her hip. Glancing back up, she gained an angry expression and muttered, "Malaka." He didn't understand the language but still gathered the sentiment.

Looking down at the weapons in his grasp, he couldn't lie to himself. They were undeniably effective and an outright flat increase to everything he was capable of. Still, he disliked them. Not only because they were weapons wielded by a version of himself he didn't align with that tried to kill him, but because they held no meaning.

His distaste was softened with a self-reminder that they had a purpose in mind. If it worked as intended, he'd be able to end the fight entirely.

Readying the familiar yet foreign weapons, Shirou observed his target as she prepared her next move. Less than subtly, she was sending an occasional peek in the direction of the mausoleum.

She knew he had friends, knew they had left him alone and was undoubtedly assuming they'd be back at some point. The point of concern was what she would do with them if they happened to appear. He needed to end the fight before he had to find out. Holding himself back a moment, he thought over her magecraft and its capabilities once more. If he could determine anything, he'd gain an edge.

Teleporting but not teleporting objects, strange gusts of wind at different temperatures. Considering he hadn't been moved and she always hopped or jumped before moving herself, he could assume the object being moved needed to be surrounded by air on all sides.

Lining up all three knowns, he came to a sudden, abrupt conclusion.

Displacement Magecraft.

It was a field his own magecraft related to, though this iteration seemed different. She wasn't substituting one location with another or really substituting something with another at all.

She was compressing and expanding the space between two points that already existed. It's what allowed her to move so fast, to move him and to alter the path of his projectiles. Simple, yet effective in capable hands.

Which was a problem considering she was capable, and such a feat threatened to be a perfect counter to him unless his limits could exceed hers. The steam sizzling off her shoulders and midriff was an indication that she was nearing hers.

Projecting an array of weapons overhead, he took a step forward through the wet muck beneath him. Firing only a couple, he slowly walked, repeating the process as his opponent avoided or redirected his blades.

There wasn't any way he'd be able to reach her in a timely manner, but his intention was entirely to provoke her into making a move, which she did as the third set of weapons were fired.

Appearing directly ahead, he watched as her fist reared back. Twisting his arms to block the incoming strike, his arms almost moved on their own, being propelled far further than he intended and outright twisting himself up. Being so displaced, he was unable to block the incoming strike and took the woman's punch in the side of his arm.

Pain exploded from the site and he was immediately reminded of Bazett. Though, this punch felt far different, like her fist had tripled in size before contact. The blow was enough to entirely offset his balance in the wet muck, tipping him back as he scrambled to simultaneously prevent himself from falling and defend against the next attack. Not only that, but the shock reflexively forced his hand open, allowing his blade to drop to the mud.

Rather than project a new one in its place, he created another set of Archer's blades and fired them both behind the woman harmlessly. With the last weapon in his grasp, he tucked his arm against his body and handled the follow-up strike at the last moment.

The third punch he couldn't manage. Coming low, his tucked arm meant he'd need to flip his entire arm, something that wasn't possible with the speed of her attacks. Landing solidly in his midsection, it felt as if her fist had blown straight through him, forcibly ejecting the air from his body and forcing his diaphragm into shock.

The impact lifted him off his feet and his already unsteady balance left him falling onto his back in the cold, wet mossy mud below.

Struggling to catch his breath, the woman loomed over him and took a step forward wordlessly. It was clear she intended to end things quickly before he could somehow gain the upper hand again.

So did he. Holding his last weapon over his face in what must have looked like desperation, he wheezed "I'm sorry," out in a gasp.

It wasn't so much as a direct input on his behalf. He merely thought of the two blades being together and their effect had actualized. Hearing them before he could see them, the married blades returned to their destined pair from behind and lodged themselves directly in the woman's back.

With a cry of pain, she locked up and arched backward reflexively. She remained standing, but the pain seemed to paralyze her in place, offering Shirou enough time to shuffle along his back and stand up.

"Alright," the woman strained to get out. "You win."

Examining what had been done, it was clear she had been delivered a mortal wound. If she moved too much, the blade risked severing her spine and even if he dematerialized it, she would bleed out.

Taking a couple of steps back for safety, Shirou bent over to stabilize his breathing. "I hate getting winded," he huffed.

"Ain't much better over here," she replied through gritted teeth.

Standing straight and taking a deep breath, Shirou looked at his former assassin with more care. At some point, she had fallen forward onto her knees. "I know what you came here for, but what's your name?" Her eyes betrayed her intentions of fleeing as quickly as she could, but even she understood moving placed her less than stable condition in jeopardy. "If you try to run, that sword will disappear and you'll bleed out in minutes," Shirou menaced for good measure.

Clenching her fists and wincing softly, she settled with her fate. "Amber," she spat out.

Shirou eyed her suspiciously. It definitely wasn't a very common name. His history lessons and his research into servants granted him knowledge of ancient cities. One such ancient city in Greece was named Ambercarnassus. If he placed her features as Greek, the name was either fitting of her heritage or a coverup for her real name. "My name is Shirou Emiya," he introduced. She likely already knew his name, but he decided to offer it in full out of courtesy. "Who hired you?"

She coughed out a bitter laugh, sucked in a pained breath and did her best impression of a statue to keep the pain down. "Can't do that," she passed off. From behind, the faint shouting of his name reached his ears. "Time's up," she continued smugly.

Rather than move his eyes from her, Shirou projected and fired a sword attached to a thin chain in the direction of the mausoleum. After a few seconds, he heard the noise of surprise and the sound of metal on stone as it reached its target. Holding one hand out, he pulled the chain taught and waited for them to follow his guide.

The act seemed to disappoint his former assassin. Undoubtedly, she had expected him to do something that would give her an opportunity. Within a few minutes, Shirou could hear Gray and Lectra as they struggled to traipse the marsh, using the chain as a guide wire through the fog.

Coming into view of the scene, Lectra immediately asked if he was alright. "I'm fine," he called back without shifting his gaze. "Did you two find what you needed?"

There was an uncomfortable period of silence broken only by the occasional wet footstep. Eventually, Lectra huffed an uncertain, "We don't know."

It was unfortunate and he felt sympathy over Gray's position. She had been dead sure this would solve her problem but it seemed for naught. Thinking of the girl in question, she came into view, struggling with the uncertain ground and the wet mud that was accumulating on the bottom of her cloak. She spared him a look he could only define as pain.

"Isn't a bikini a little cold in this weather?" Stepping between the two, Lectra approached the assassin to gather a better view. "Or was your plan to seduce Shirou before killing him?"

Dropping the chain but leaving his guide back to the cemetery projected, Shirou and his assassin both looked at each other in confusion.

"Do either of you have a way to heal her?" he asked to move toward a different topic. "If I remove that blade she'll bleed to death and I need to ask her more questions but she's in too much pain."

Gray shook her head, while Lectra merely adopted a thoughtful pose. "I have something that might work in theory."

Shirou blinked, then asked what she meant.

"Well I've never had a wound this bad to try it out, but I think my ether can occupy the space and seal everything up. It also doubles as a natural painkiller since contact numbs the nerves."

"Is that how you can take so much abuse when you're covered in the stuff?"

Twisting, the girl beamed and extended one hand to allow a blob of purplish black to stretch out of her sleeve. "The trick is to always be covered so that you can't feel anything."

"Doesn't that mean it works in practice, not theory?" Gray asked, practically on behalf of Shirou.

Lectra merely shook her head. "I've never had to do internal stuff, just external on the surface. For all I know, the ether will become self-sufficient, absorb the blood, travel through her veins and take over her body."

Shirou and Amber both shuddered. "Maybe we should figure something else out."

The sound of snapping branches precluded a soft, "Ah, there you are." Turning on one foot and projecting a set of his emerald blades, Shirou spotted a figure as it half walked, half waded through the marsh toward him.

The man immediately put Shirou on edge. A sharp face and features with closed eyes framed by a curtain of bright blond shoulder-length hair. He wore a flowing red coat draped by a two-tone shawl intricately embroidered with golden thread at its edges. Covering his hands and extending from the sleeves were ruffles and gloves of white. A shade of stark, pristine white that perfectly matched the man's face. The lack of colour on his face due to the chilled air, something visible on the others of the group, was what initially rubbed Shirou wrong.

Tracing the man with his eyes, Shirou regrettably confirmed his suspicions. There was no pulse and his entire body was as cold as the air around him.

He was dead and if he was still walking around, there was only one conclusion.

"Zepia Atlasia," Gray murmured in shock.

"The very same," the man confirmed with a half bow. "This is a most unusual script to be sure, however, I'm far from averse to something fresh."

"Should I know this guy?" Shirou asked without moving his eyes from the newcomer.

A punch struck his shoulder before the same hand moved to the back of his neck to force his head into a bow. "That's the director of Atlas, you idiot," Lectra murmured with some panic.

Shirou, following her forced movement, whispered back, "He's-"

"A Dead Apostle, now shut up before he kills us."

Doing as asked, Shirou lifted his head once Lectra released him to see the man, Zepia, had closed half the distance while he wasn't looking. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "What are you doing here?"

The man appeared genuinely confused for a moment. "Examining one of many outcomes." The already odd grin on the man's face stretched a mote further. "Though, this may be something of a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Why do I recognize that voice?" The muffled question from behind attracted Zepia's attention immediately.

Eyes landing on Gray, the smile on his face grew wider still. Absently, Shirou wondered if the man's face was made of putty. "I see, so you're the caretaker for the replica. I'd been curious as to its location."

Shirou felt in over his head. Amber shared his sentiment as she interrupted. "I'll just sit over here and die slowly."

Zepia's face seemed to alight. "Ah, of course. Allow me to skip ahead a bit." The man reached into his coat and Shirou couldn't help but tense. His experience with vampires was practically nonexistent, he had no idea what the man was capable of. Thankfully, he only withdrew a small corked vial filled with an off-yellow fluid that swirled with suspended filaments. "I have here a solution that can repair the injury delivered to that woman there."

Shirou waited, expecting a "but" that never came. Recalling what Rin had taught him, he took a small breath. "If you're a magus, you probably want something in exchange."

The man looked at the vial, then puffed some air through his nose. "I hadn't even thought of that, though you raise a good point." Mentally, Shirou cursed Rin. "Since I have nothing that needs doing as of present, would the simple exchange of favours suffice?"

"We take the vial and you receive a favour from us in the future?" Shirou asked for clarification-sake. The man nodded once. "If you're going to save a life then the equivalent favour would be for me to take one."

Zepia's smile remained. "I suppose that would work out nicely."

"Then I refuse," Shirou declared.

"I don't," the woman chimed in behind him. "I already kill whoever I'm paid to," she groaned.

"That would work. A favour is a favour and I care not from whom it is owed." Twiddling the vial in his fingers, the man strode forward, careless of Shirou's weapons. Lectra moved away from Shirou's side, but the boy held his ground between the two.

"She'll attack me again and I'll be forced to kill her," he threatened.

Zepia stopped abruptly, glaring daggers through closed eyes. As if sensing the shift in emotion, a breeze howled through the nearby trees. "Then perhaps you should resolve that issue."

Shirou couldn't repress a chill that wormed through his back as the words reached him. How was he supposed to prevent her from fulfilling her contract? Unfortunately, he didn't have a geas, and producing a sheet of vellum was beyond the realm of possibility.

"Does anyone besides me know any blood magecraft?" Lectra asked.

"You know blood magecraft?" Shirou asked out of reflex.

"I know enough to get me in trouble," she admitted with a half-shrug. "That's why I asked if anyone else knew but thinking it over, witchcraft and curses aren't really something condoned or taught in the Clock Tower."

Shirou glanced in her direction with uncertainty. "This sounds like a bad idea."

Lectra shook her head and adorned a smile. "No, it'll be great I promise."

Worry growing by the moment, Shirou's attention gradually shifted from Zepia to Lectra as the woman approached. An orb of ether slid out of her sleeve, snaked around her fingers and molded itself to her hand like a glove. "What if you make a mistake and I turn into her slave or something."

Lectra scoffed. "Relax, will you? I'm just going to use a quick binding spell to keep her from killing you for now."

"Can't that be dispelled?" Gray contributed.

"Well, yeah, but that'll be later when it isn't our problem."

Sparing a look toward Zepia, Shirou noted he had once again moved closer when he wasn't looking. Vowing to keep his eyes on the man so he didn't progress further beyond the ten feet he already advanced into, Shirou begrudgingly extended his hand and created a scalpel held by the blade in his fingertips for Lectra to use. "Just get it over with."

Watching Zepia, the man tilted his head slowly as if examining a display. He remained where he was under Shirou's watch as Lectra gently took the blade and wrapped a hand around his wrist.

Feeling the scalpel as it pierced his skin was expected. Uncomfortable as it was, it was far from the worst pain he'd been through. In short order, Lectra collected his blood within her pseudo-gloved hand. Dropping the scalpel into the marsh with a soft thump, the woman moved behind him toward the still-injured woman.

He couldn't see what transpired with his eyes locked onto the vampire. What he knew for certain was that a lengthy period of time was spent with nothing but quiet movements before she began chanting softly in french. While speaking, something cold that tingled his skin wrapped around his wrist and tugged him backward. Stumbling initially, he walked along with the motion, trying to keep one eye on Zepia and another on where he was going.

With enough guidance, he accomplished both and placed his hand on something warm. A sharp flash of red light appeared behind him and a cry of agony accompanied it. Shirou himself felt no different, but by Lectra's proud statement of "there, all done," whatever she had planned, had worked.

"What did you do to her?" he asked, hoping he'd get more specifics.

"A blood curse, duh."

Huffing in frustration, Shirou decided to get things over with. "Alright, you can complete your deal," he directed Zepia.

The vampire nodded respectfully and moved forward toward the injured woman. Giving a wide berth, he examined the blade lodged in her for a moment. "Gradation air given a tangible form, curious," he remarked. "Is this limited to objects with a bladed edge or are you capable of more?" Twisting his head like an owl, the man stared through closed eyes at Shirou.

Repressing a shiver from the man's cold demeanor, Shirou merely replied, "It would be foolish to reveal my magecraft to other magi."

Zepia hummed, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it to rethink. "Please dispel this blade," he instructed.

As asked, the blade dematerialized to leave behind a considerable vacancy in the woman's body. No longer supported by its intrusion, pieces began to shift and her pain became obvious. Seamlessly, the cork of the yellowed vial was popped with one finger and the contents were liberally splashed upon the site of the wound, producing rolling steam and an audible sizzle.

Shirou was no stranger to the screams of those being burned alive and the woman's noises were notably comparable. Noting Lectra's grimace as she covered both ears, Shirou watched on as her flesh knit itself together from the inside. Stitching parts and pieces together and sealing the wound, the replacement skin and flesh looked perfectly normal, if not a little more reddish-pink than its surroundings.

Ordeal over, the woman slumped forward onto her forearms, breathing heavily as the pain abated and her body composed itself.

"Oh good, you're not a puddle."

Skipping over the fact that such a thing was apparently a possibility, the woman merely released a bitter groan through gritted teeth. He leaned down toward Lectra. "What did that blood curse do?"

Leaning her own head toward him, she whispered, "It's a surprise."

"Is nobody going to ask this guy what the hell he's doing here?" The muffled voice from Gray's hip did nothing to hide his anger.

"Merely to observe," the guy in question replied seamlessly.

Jostling beneath her cloak, Gray eventually withdrew the golden cage and held it aloft. Clattering against the edge of its cage, Add seemed ready to fly out and attack. "Bullshit. You think I don't know the guy who made me? That stuck me in this damned cube?"

Zepia snorted, cast a glance at the pained woman still recovering before resuming his staring match with a cage. With a pause, the man's smile widened until it was truly grim. "Then you know exactly why I'm here." Slowly spreading out both arms, he flared both hands. "The entire universe down to the last detail is calculable using nothing more than mathematics. To that end, this and every future alongside it can be determined to the millisecond if the appropriate amount of processing power can be obtained."

"Blah blah blah. Math this and algebra that but you still haven't explained a damned thing," the cube rattled.

The man's smile twitched and Shirou felt a palpable sensation wash over him like a shockwave. By the flinch of the two girls, he knew they had felt the same. He spoke slowly, a threat that dared the cube to interrupt again. "I wasn't finished," he menaced, before lowering both arms and coughing into his fist. "Very well. In summary, I've come to observe an improbability firsthand."

Amber had managed to stand as the vampire finished speaking. Glaring at Shirou, she raised her fists while huffing heavily. Reinforcing his own body in preparation, he watched as her eyes locked onto something upon her wrist. Examining the spot, she flipped her hand over and Shirou spotted a simple cut. Looking down at his own wrist, he found a matching slice in the exact same spot.

The two came to the same conclusion as both of their stances relaxed. Whatever Lectra had done, had tied their injuries to one another. Considering he hadn't felt so much as an itch from her previous lamenting, he imagined it was only one-way. The woman released a frustrated huff and dropped her shoulders as her entire body deflated. "You've really screwed things up, you know that?"

"Good, since if I hadn't, I'd be dead."

With a sharp "tsk," the woman turned partly and took a step away.

"What are you being paid?"

The question stopped her immediately and incited the woman to look Shirou up and down. "More than you can afford."

"Who hired you?" Not bothering to dwell on questions she intended on avoiding, he moved to the next. She was moments away from leaving and he knew he'd be incapable of keeping up.

"Nope," she passed off.

"How long have you been following me?"

"Three days."

"Where were you born?"

There was a slight pause and twitch of her face as the questions went in a different direction than expected. Humming in thought a moment, she concluded with "Greece."

"What's your real name?"

"Hah-" She stopped herself, shook her head. "I'm leaving." Turning, she took a step but her leg failed to lift. The shift in weight and the lack of lower body control sent her falling onto her hands and knees once again. Looking down, Shirou could see the binds of ether rooting her feet to the ground.

Wasting no time, the ether coiled around her legs and cemented her to the marsh. "What the hell is this shit?" Amber asked, trying to claw it away.

"Something to keep you from running away before we're finished asking questions," Lectra explained. Allowing ether to flow from her sleeves and trail along the ground, a collection of a half dozen figures formed around the woman while her binds grew stronger.

While this happened, Zepia adorned an array of emotions that quickly shifted from surprised to curious to confused before finally landing on amused. "Now this is precisely why I elected to see out this script on my own." Shirou felt a sense of unease as the vampire looked directly at Lectra. "It isn't every day you see the wielder of the First Magic, after all."

---

Finally, this cat is out of the bag. A long foreshadowed secret hinted by Waver himself first. To those of you who already put the pieces together, bravo. This one was almost as subtle as the Origin Round of Ryuudou Temple being the catalyst to summon servant Kiritsugu.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things seem to be taking longer and longer and I can't tell if it's my busy life or my failing brain.

As per usual, please follow, favourite and leave a review thanking Talndir if you're so kind.