FateZero Paradox

by Praxus84

The Fourth Holy Grail War of Fuyuki City: Seven Masters, Fourteen Servants- wait, what? Someone's been messing around with the rules, for once not you-know-who. But the stakes are still very real, and the Grail can only belong to one Master and two Servants at maximum... Fate/Zero belongs to Type-Moon, and all foreign characters their respective owners, I own nothing but the plot.

2. Chapter 2: No Teamwork Without We

-268:22:30

Not even two hours after performing the sacred ritual he believed would cement his reputation for all time, Waver was crouching behind a statue of a man in thought, eyes trained on the public library in front. "Where is he?" he whispered. "Do you see him anywhere?"

"Nothing yet," the one next to him replied. Eyes of a dim red scanned every part of the library's walls. "Maybe I should take a closer look."

"N-no! Last thing I need is both of y-"

Then the building's security shutters began to warp as banging noises could be heard from within. Dents appeared within its surface until a fist suddenly broke through it. The fingers then uncurled to grasp the misshapen metal and further bend it aside. Finally, a large enough hole had been formed for the one assaulting it to step through. The steel was further crushed underneath his sandals. For a moment, Waver could only stare in utter amazement at the man.

He was tall and broad, dressed in bronze armor without sleeves that would cover the muscular tanned arms. As dark red cloth lay over the legs, a large red cloak was draped over his shoulders, bright fur decorating its collar, the greaves around the man's forearms, and parts of the sandals. A (comparatively) short sword of Roman design, a spatha, hung by olive green straps with gold linings by his waist. The face seemed to be of chiseled stone, as vibrant red hair sprung out to cover the top and form a circular beard at his chin and edges of the cheek. Eyes of the same color and life shined froward between bushy eyes and a large flat nose.

This was the Heroic Spirit Iskandar, known by many in the world as Alexander the Great, prince of Macedonia long before the days of Christ, King of Conquerors. And currently, Rider-class Servant of Waver Velvet in the Fourth Holy Grail War.

Then Saber X, the other Servant bound to Waver Velvet, muttered, "Oh. There he is," with a deadpan nod towards the ruined shutters.

The unimpressed rasp helped the boy snap out of his awe and comprehend what just happened. "You big idiot!" Waver stormed over through the small bushes, arms thrashing, while his other Servant followed him. "What do you think you're doing, couldn't you just slip out in spirit form like when you went-IAIIEE?!" His tirade was cut short with an undignified yelp. Somehow, the boy had stepped onto a stray branch in such a way that made it catapult into the air and smack him on the nose.

He stumbled backwards, clutching the stung feature, before bumping into someone solid. "Steady, pipsqueak." He looked up to glare at Saber X's upside-down half-smirk, the taller man keeping him upright. The heat from his eyes then shifted towards the chortling other Servant.

Rider held up his hand, a pair of books nestled between the massive fingers. "I cannot carry these in spirit form, boy." He rumbled in reply to his audience of two. "No need to get flustered, you make it seem as though I am some thief."

"You just tore through a library, how does that not make you a thief?!"

Rider closed his eyes as he replied, "The difference ought to be obvious: A cowardly thief would slink away into the night," he flashed a broad grin while looming over Waver, "but the King of Conquerors strides away with loot in hand and a song on his lips!"

Waver's eye twitched. Furiously. Does this guy have any sense of logic in his thick skull?

At least to some tiny relief, he wasn't the only one exasperated with the Rider's antics; the other Servant smacked his palm to his forehead. "Oh, a song, huh?" Saber X drawled in that same rasp. "Well, what kind of musical accompaniment would you prefer, Your Royal Highness? String? Percussion? Maybe somebody banging on a tambourine so the whole city knows of your glorious adventure of booknapping?"

Rider barked a thunderous laugh. "And why should it not? Anything can become a glorious adventure, my friend, so long as one acts with passion! But your jest of music has me think-"

Waver threw up his head and howled something incoherent. "J-just SHUT UP, you idiots!" He swiped the books from Rider's grasp, grumbling, "I'll hold onto these, both of you just disappear right now!"

Rider continued to grin. "Fine with me, I'll let you carry the spoils. Make sure not to drop them." And he faded into a sparkle of golden dust.

Saber X followed suit with a shrug, only he left dark red glimmering in his wake. For a moment, Waver simply stood there in blissful silence.

And then a wail sounded from the building, making him jump at least six feet straight up.

'Huh,' Saber X's voice rang out from seeming thin air. 'I was wondering how he could stomp around that place without triggering any alarms.'

A familiar chuckle. 'Fortune is a fickle thing! The sky may be of the purest blue one moment, but then thunderstorms rage across its surface the next! Ah, but you may wish to pick up your pace, boy. Conquest should not be delayed by the confinements of lesser men! And remember the books.'

Waver ran an exasperated hand through his hair as he tore down the sidewalk, his voice reaching an even higher pitch than the sirens behind him. "WHY THE HELL DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?!"

Was fate punishing him for something? Was it because he had stolen the cloth meant to be the catalyst? Because he had been hypnotizing an elderly couple into believing he was their son so he could stay at their house? He hadn't even hurt them (didn't need that on his conscience…)! Was it because he had struggled to gut those stupid kicking and pecking chickens for the sacrifice? Why?!

The Magic Circle had worked. Too well, from the looks of it. When the light had faded, the student bore witness to the powerful king of old standing proudly in its center, as he had hoped for.

What he hadn't hoped for was that another was standing right behind the big man, his back turned to him.

Both had been initially confused about the situation, the one introducing himself as Saber X showing caution and a little exasperation ("Just my luck," he had grumbled at the time) while Rider had actually tried inviting him to become his follower. They were on the cusp of an argument, maybe even a fight, when they had suddenly stiffened. A couple of seconds later, Waver had been informed of the abnormal two-Servants-per-Master situation for this War. Each Magic Circle had called forth an additional Servant along with the regular one, and these were all from universes alternate from the one they currently found themselves in. Nevertheless, they retained full access to the Grail-provided basic information on the current time and setting. Also, standard requirement of mana was decreased to fifty percent, making it easier for a Master to provide for more than one Servant. Of course, certain abilities would be more costly.

While Saber X seemed to get over his shock for the most part, he still seemed done with the whole thing. Rider for his part had been delighted at the additions, claiming it to be "another spice to the taste of fresh conquest!" Once they had pledged themselves to Waver's service, Saber X with no small amount of snark and Rider's voice booming enthusiasm throughout the area, the latter had demanded books to prepare for the war. Their dumbfounded Master could only direct him to the public library luckily close by, Saber X offered no help for either one, and, well… here he was, trying to avoid getting caught by the police.

Looking back, Waver was still utterly ashamed of himself. He'd been the one to call forth these two, he was their Master, but they'd barely even noticed him, let alone confirmed the contract sealed, and now he was stuck running from Rider's mess!

But it was partially his own fault. He'd allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the Heroic Spirits. A part of him hadn't believed that he could pull it off; even now, as he bolted across a lawn to gain more distance, he kept glancing down at his hands to check that the Command Seals (two pairs now) were still there. He had completely failed to assert himself in front of those two, even when he was supposed to be the Master!

Well, that's gonna change right now! Waver promised himself even while wheezing; he had reached the road leading by Fuyuki Lake, the massive structure of Fuyuki Bridge close and yet far away. The second those two red-eyed familiars pop back up, I'll remind them exactly who's in charge-

But the boy had been so caught up in his plans that he neglected to watch where he was stepping. A loose tile in the road suddenly cracked underneath his step, causing him to trip. Hands still clutching the books tightly to his chest, Waver could only yelp and brace for the oncoming ground.

Then a strong hand caught his left shoulder, steadying him long enough to get his feet back in a solid stance. "You okay?" Still panting like a dog, he looked up at a materialized Saber X holding him. There was something in his eyes, an emotion Waver couldn't make out from all his exertion.

He shrugged himself free of the man's grasp. "I-I'm fine." He tried to keep his voice steady but eventually gave up as the adrenaline wore off. He'd always put more stock in training his mental faculties rather than his muscles, something he regretted at the moment. "Geeze," he wheezed, casting an irritated eye at the spot where he'd stumbled, the cracked clay illuminated by a streetlamp close by, "what did I do wrong?"

"Sometimes, bad things just happen, kid." He glanced towards the otherworldly Servant of the Sword, hands in his pockets, gaze cast towards the large bridge. Saber X then looked down towards his Master. "You still got the big guy's loot?"

Waver peered down at the two books nestled in his arms (old habit): the larger one being a world map, the smaller (but thicker) one being a collection of Homer's works, including the Odyssey. "What's the deal with these, anyway…?" he wondered out loud, Saber X just shrugging in reply.

Then a familiar set of tanned fingers pulled them out of his grip. "As I said," Rider stood in front of them in all his glory, "these are to prepare for the war. No war has ever been waged without maps." He began to flip through the atlas' pages, murmuring to himself. Saber X must've grown curious, because he had stepped closer to his larger "partner". "The world's ends have been discovered… and it has proven to be round… Ah," he gazed in wonder at a double page spread of the entire Earth. "This is then what the sphere looks like on paper."

"Tell me, Saber X," the addressed rose an eyebrow at the inquiry, "you are not from this Earth, yes? What was yours like in comparison to this one?" Rider tapped the page.

Saber X pulled his left hand out of his pocket to scratch at the right side of his chin. "Eh, it wasn't called Earth, for one thing, but Remnant. Round too, though, like an orange. Continents different in shape to the ones there, a lot smaller…" He glanced up towards the moon in thought, the other listening in interest. "Plus this moon isn't busted like ours…" Waver blinked. Busted? The moon? Rider grew more curious as well.

Then Saber X shrugged his free arm, hand rising up and down. "But geography wasn't really my strong suit. Had a couple of other things going on." He then eyed the map again. "Not that I don't agree with your point about maps, but this," he rapped a finger against the book's side, "is a little too broad for what we've got going on. The Grail War's localized in this city, right?" He glanced sharply toward Waver, the boy quickly nodding due in surprise. Back to Rider, he said, "Then there's no point in checking out what the whole world looks like, we already know enough thanks to the Grail. If you're gonna swipe a map, couldn't you have opted for a local, more specific one of this place?"

Rider belted out another laugh. "Ah, my friend," he clapped his free hand against Saber X's back, making him stumble with an "Oof!" "It is true that we currently battle for the Grail here." The hand then swept for the sea. "But I make plans as well for the war to follow."

Waver could only stand there looking between them perplexed. War to… follow? What are either of these two talking about? But Saber X shrugged as if to say, "Don't ask me."

"Boy," the student's mood soured at how Rider addressed him, "where are Macedonia and Persia on this map?"

That reminded Waver of his prior thoughts. He had to remind these two who was in charge. "E-enough of this insolence, both of you!" he pointed a finger between the pair. "Remember, I am your M-"

Rider's eye shifted from the page to him.

Waver Velvet's words caught in his throat. His legs felt weak, making him stumble and his backside hit the ground. He couldn't help it; that one look… it felt so powerful. Like the gap of power between the two was as an ocean.

"I have not forgotten that you are my Master," Rider spoke matter-of-factly, his gaze briefly shifting towards the other Servant. "Have you, Saber X?"

He simply stood there casually as ever, as if Rider's presence didn't even faze him. "Nope."

Rider nodded before returning his steel gaze. "And you remember the contract we forged as well, do you not?" As both Heroic Spirits gazed down at him, Waver closed his own eyes to calm himself and nodded in confirmation. Rider promptly flopped down to sit cross-legged on the ground, tension completely gone now. "My current interests are with where the territories lie that I conquered in life." He glanced down at the world map, then expectantly back to Waver.

Waver stared before coming to his senses again and shuffled across the sidewalk towards the larger person. "Should be here, I think." His right finger pointed at a spot in Europe. Saber X peered down half-curious from the other side.

Rider's brow furrowed for a moment, then he laughed. "Small!" He exclaimed, reaching up with his right hand to snag Saber X's shoulder and pull him down.

"Hey, whaddaya-"

"Look, my friend!" The Servant of the Mount excitedly smacked the page in Saber X's face, then pulled him close to his broad grin. "This was the land I had spent my whole life fighting for, and it is so small compared to the greater world!" His grin somehow grew wider. "Oh, how I cannot wait!"

His "friend" smacked his open hand against Rider's annoyingly close face and shoved, sending him toppling backwards with surprising strength. Waver gaped at how easily the scrawny man had pushed away the big lump of flesh, bone and noise. "Wait for what, the chance to try out this era's toothpaste?" Saber X grumbled, almost making Waver laugh.

Rider for his part did laugh as he pushed himself back into an upright position and flipped his cape away from his face. "Wonderful! To think you could force me back so easily, Saber X! The strength in your limbs may be equal to the sharpness of your tongue!" He then continued before the other could retort. "I had feared that with the mapping of this world, it would mean there are no lands left to discover. But now, I see there are lands waiting for me to be explored!" Rider looked over towards Waver with the excitement of a child. "Boy, where on this map would we be right now?"

Waver dully looked towards the map held before him and pointed again at the continent of Japan. This made Iskandar even more elated. "At the opposite end of the sphere, then…" he grunted. "An abundance of good news." He cupped his chin, further studying the map. "Now I know our objective for the coming battles."

"Our… objective?" Waver repeated carefully, trading a perplexed look with Saber X. Neither really understood where this conversation(?) was heading.

Rider swept his left hand up, making Waver lean away lest he get brained. "First, we march across this side of the world, heading west, straight west. And we shall conquer every land that crosses our path!" His raised hand came down as a fist that struck his bent knee, then it crossed with the other over its owner's broad chest. "Once I return to Macedonia in triumph, all of the people in the land will celebrate my arrival." He chuckled to himself even as Waver's shoulders slumped. One eye opened to glance at his Master and partner. "Exciting, no?"

…What is this guy talking about? Waver's mind just couldn't process this "plan."

And Saber X? He just shook his head while pulling out a metal flask from a shirt pocket, muttered, "I am too sober for this…" as he unscrewed the cap, and brought the now open container to his lips for a long drink.

Not exactly the sword-brandishing hero in shining armor Waver would've pictured. In fact, the best word he could find that described the Servant was "scruffy." He was tall, though about one foot shorter than Rider, and lean, his skin as pale as Waver's. His greying black hair resembled a crazy mass of feathers, and a slight stubble covered every part of his angular jaw, giving him a sort of ruggedly handsome look many of Waver's female classmates (and a few of the male ones) would swoon over. He wore a gray dress shirt with darker additions and an old-fashioned long tail, black pants and black dress shoes. The sleeves were folded back a bit exposing his forearms, while the right hand had a black wristband, two silver rings on the ring finger and a larger one on the index. Like Rider, his outfit came with a cape, but this one only went down to his upper legs and was tattered at the end. A silver cross hung around Saber X's neck, though the string was attached to one of the side ends instead of the top like most models, making it appear as though it constantly hung askew.

The man finally took the flask away to wipe his lips, allowing Waver to notice it sported the exact same symbol as the Command Seals on his left hand: a gear shaped like an eye with a wing overlapping its left side, with a smaller gear inside the main one's north-right corner. Red eyes peered down at him, though these were of a more faded color in comparison to the vibrance of Rider's. "I'm not sharing."

It took another moment to understand the implications. "I-I'm nineteen years old!"

"So? I had my first drink when I was twelve."

"As did I." Rider beamed in recognition. "Now that had been a good day."

"Tell me about it…" For the first time, an actual smile drifted across Saber X's lips.

Waver sputtered in incomprehension, eyes darting furiously between the two daydreaming about being intoxicated, before he shouted, "Do either of you understand what you're supposed to doing here?!" The two snapped out of their reverie. "You're here for the Grail War! The Holy Grail!"

Saber X gave a conceding shrug. "Yeah, yeah, you don't have to yell about it." He spoke to Rider. "He's right, though, Rider. Before you go off on your little crusade," he held up a hand to forestall any additions, "and I never said I'd be joining you. I've got my own business to take care of."

"Awwww."

"…A guy your size should not have puppy-dog eyes." No kidding, Waver agreed silently to Saber X's comment. "Cut it out, my niece used them on me all the time, I've built up a tolerance. Anyways," the Heroic Spirit shifted attention from slightly sulking Rider back to his Master, "we've still got to win the Grail. So, what's the next step here?"

Waver was taken aback. "W-what?"

"You summoned us, right? So, where's our base of operations? What kind of weapons do you have, how are you tracking the other Masters?"

"I, well, um, I have…uh," Waver's words jumbled against each other as Saber X gazed at him.

Those red eyes stared into his dark green ones, then they closed as a Saber X's fingers squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you didn't just overhear a conversation about the Holy Grail War, swipe a relic, take the first ride to this city, and hunker down by some buddy's house so you can do the ritual." Those eyes half-opened with an explosive sigh. "Without making any kind of magical or tactical preparations for the bloodbath this whole thing could turn into."

"O-of course not!" Waver yelled. Then he looked away from that stare, cheeks flushing. "At-at least not completely… how… you described…"

The Servant of the Sword bound to him didn't say anything. He just took another swig from his flask.

Only to spit out a mouthful of the brown liquid when Rider slapped his back again with a laugh. "Oh, come now, Saber X!" The bigger man seemed to ignore the glare shot his way. "Such an impetuous act is impressive in its own way! This boy hears of the battles that await and impulsively decides to join them without hesitance." He chuckled again. "Wonderful! I'm grateful hotheaded youths are still in this world."

"Exactly." Saber X wiped his mouth with a frown. "He's a youth, Rider. A youth whose only real assets in this fight appear to be you and me. You had to steal from a library just to get some books. We're going to be up against twelve of the most revered heroes of this world's history and who knows how many others', plus the Masters themselves, and he's definitely not ready for this. The kid shakes like a leaf every time either of us gives him a look, and we're the Servants he's stuck with." Waver's face flamed at the blunt tone. He wasn't good enough for the drunkard?! How dare-

"No one is truly ready for adventure." Rider's words swept through anything his Master tried to say. "And though he may be underprepared for the enemies ahead, the fact that he saw the opportunity and summoned us to this War proves that there is more to him than we have seen." There was less volume to his speech now, more reverence. Waver could sit and listen in grateful awe at the Heroic Spirit before him.

Even Saber X seemed to lose his skepticism, a little smile playing on his face. He finally sealed up his flask and replied, "Okay then. Let's see how this goes. And kid," Waver straightened at being addressed, "I'll do my best to make sure you come out of this shindig in one piece, but keep your guard up. Things are only gonna get tougher from here."

The third generation of the Velvet family nodded quietly to acknowledge the warning. As much as he'd hated to concede it, he should have made more preparations for the War than just performing the ritual. He'd allowed himself to be swept up by the excitement without considering the practical side. Professor El-Melloi, the pretentious oaf, had no doubt brought along dozens of special tricks to win. Not to mention the other Masters, whom he didn't know anything about, not even their names or whereabouts.

This was going to be an uphill battle for the three sitting there by the water. But then, Waver almost chuckled bitterly, hasn't that always been the story of my life?

Rider suddenly straightened and hummed in thought, thumping his fist into his open palm. "That's right. With all this talk of the Grail, I have been meaning to ask you both." For the first time since he had appeared, the Servant of the Mount sounded serious. His next words were spoken slowly. "What do either of you mean to do with the Grail?"

A chill ran along Waver's spine. He didn't like the intensity of Rider's glare. "What's it to you?" Saber X appeared calm as ever, but there was a certain tension in his body language. Like he was bracing for a fight.

Nevertheless, his retort helped Waver anchor his thoughts. "H-he's right. Why do you care about our plans?"

"I have to be sure that they do not clash with mine. If either of you seek to conquer this world, then that would make us enemies." Waver would've scoffed at the words were it not for Rider's eyes resting on him. There was no trace of the prior humor in them. "The world does not require two rulers. Let alone three."

The other Servant rolled his eyes and replied, "Relax, big guy. Do I look like I'm interested in world conquest?" He gestured to himself, making the other two have another look at his scraggly clothes and demeanor. "There are a couple of things I need to take care of back home, so I've got zero interest in taking over this place." Saber X said no more on the subject, but Rider seemed content with his answer.

As for Waver, he took on a dignified air while looking away and scoffed. "As if I'd care about that! I too have my own goals."

"Oh? Such as…?" Rider sounded curious.

Still avoiding eye contact with them, he mumbled, "I want to be acknowledged." He sat a little straighter and injected some strength in his next words. "The others at the Clock Tower look down on me, and this War is the perfect chance to prove my abilities." He turned to face them again-

THWACK! "Tiny!"

"Agh!" Waver wasn't which made him bowl over the road head over heels, the slap from Rider or the sharp single word. Either way, he slowly tried to push himself up, cradling his bruised cheek.

Rider for his part hadn't put more effort in the backhand than to swat a mosquito. "Tiny! Petty!" He closed his eyes, not in anger, merely disappointment. "And narrowminded! Your enthusiasm is to be praised but your drive? Fighting this battle simply for your reputation?" A sigh escaped his nostrils as he addressed Saber X without looking. "Can you believe this nonsense?"

"Not sure I want to," the leaner Servant grumbled, massaging his nose again. "This is a War for a device that can grant any wish in the world, something that entire nations would kill each other for, and we're hitched to a brat that's just looking for bragging rights?" The flask was already back at his mouth. "Sounds like a bad joke."

"He dares to call himself our Master?" Rider agreed, further stoking the fire that was building inside the "brat". "How pitiful!" He rose to his feet and moved to loom over Waver. "If you truly wish for your peers to admire you…" Waver blinked in surprise as he was slowly lifted into the air.

Rider held him effortlessly by the back of his shirt's collar. "Perhaps you should have the Grail's power make you grow by about thirty centimeters. That would make it easier for you to look down upon others." Rider plopped him on his feet onto a grass-carpeted over-part of the road. He then returned to his seated position, uncaring of Waver's rising indignation.

Saber X snorted as he joined his partner. "You've got it all wrong, Rider." Both looked at him in varying levels of surprise. "The pipsqueak should have the Grail fix his voice. He could grow a hundred centimeters taller and still nobody would take him seriously with him screeching around like a soprano."

A geyser of laughter erupted from Rider, forcing him to drop his book as he held his shaking sides. It proved to be infectious, as soon Saber X almost doubled over, his own raspy snickers melding with the deep chuckles already ringing through the air.

Waver's temper finally reached its upper limit as he glared at the two guffawing men. How dare they?! They're both just Servants, familiars! Their disrespectful words swam around in his mind like sharks, biting away at the dregs of his dignity. Tiny! Narrowminded! Brat! Pipsqueak! Soprano! I DO NOT HAVE A SOPRANO VOICE!

The humiliated Master lifted both of his arms towards his impertinent Servants. Think you can just laugh at me?! I'll show you. The Command Seals on his hands began to glow red as he prepared to use them. By the power of these Command Seals, with the authority bestowed by the Grail, I order Iskandar, King of Conquerors and-

Then he paused in thought. And…? Unlike Rider, Saber X had yet to reveal his True Name. He wasn't a Servant of this world's history, so that ruled out determining his identity by cross-referencing his appearance and abilities to old legends. Who was he, then?

Waver shut his eyes and shook his head as the rage clouding his mind began to disperse. Technically, he didn't need a Servant's True Name to invoke a Command Seal, but even so, the boy only had a set of three for each one. I can't waste the Seals on something like disciplining them every time they insult me. These are my ace in the hole. If I run out, I won't have any way of reining in Rider or Saber X or giving them a boost. He took a breath to calm down, rational thinking cooling the heat within his soul. The arms fell back to his sides, their Seals returning to their usual state. He didn't need them yet.

Waver opened his eyes again to check on his "team;" Rider had recovered from his laughing fit and was pouring over the books, like he had forgotten all about wounding Waver's pride. As for Saber X, he was calmly watching the boy's every move. Waver understood from the look in his eyes: he must've known what was going on inside his head. He must've been bracing himself for whatever command he may've been given.

A flash of worry swept inside Waver when he feared the drunkard might retaliate, but the Servant simply smiled at him. Not in a mocking or cruel way, either.

For a moment, Waver wanted to return the friendly gesture but decided against it. He hadn't forgiven the earlier criticism just yet. Instead, he sat down on the road and crossed his arms, head held high. "So long as you get me the Grail," he spoke in his most resolute (and deepest) tone to the Servants, "I have no complaints. After that, you two go off to Macedonia or this 'Remnant' or the sun for all I ca-"

"Alright, alright," Rider huffed in a bit of a whine, "we'll win you the Grail. All we have to do is beat twelve other Servants to get that thing, yes?" He waved his hand carelessly. "A bit of a chore, but nothing impossible."

"You should really quit saying 'we' for everything you want to do, big guy. Gives people the wrong impression." Despite his words, Saber X's smile had shifted to an eager smirk. "But hey, we've all got a stake in that cup. No way am I letting some other guy run off with it without a fight." His knuckles popped audibly with the tightening of his fingers.

"Haha, that's the spirit!"

Waver raised an eyebrow at their enthusiasm. "You both seem pretty sure of yourselves," he remarked, gaining their attention, "but are you positive you can win?"

Rider grew still, gaze fixed on his Master. "Oh? You wish for us to demonstrate our power?"

Waver flinched a bit at the quiet words and the looks both Servants were now giving him, but he kept to it. "N-naturally! I've heard stories about the King of Conquerors, and they say that the Saber is generally the strongest warrior among the Servants," he managed to let out a skeptical laugh, "but those are just words. How do I know that you are what you claim to be? Where is your mighty sword, Saber X?"

The addressed Servant didn't yell or rage or appear the least bit insulted by the words. Instead, he rose to his full height, smirk still present, and extended his open right hand. "Right here."

A flash of mana, the closing of the hand's fingers, and then something silver stabbed into the ground effortlessly.

Waver jumped to his feet in surprise while Iskandar let out a curious "oh," placing his hand to his chin as his red eyes sparkled. A small chuckle drifted from Saber X's lips as the giant sword that had suddenly appeared was flipped up with just a twitch of his fingers, pieces of the street trailing in its arc, spun around like a conductor's baton through the air, and finally brought to rest on its wielder's right shoulder. It was a single-edged greatsword nearly as long as Saber X was tall, with a very wide blade covered in swirling markings and, at a closer glance, apparently divided into segments. The handle was wrapped in dark red cloth with a pair of metal handguards parallel to each other and some kind of trigger under Saber X's index finger. A large circular space had been built between the blade and the hilt, filled with multiple cogs of varying size and shape, while two long black hexagonal barrels protruded from the circle on either side.

Waver Velvet could only gape in slack-jawed wonder at the magnificent weapon, a thing that no ordinary man could ever hope to hold, let alone so casually as by the one that stood before him. He had never seen anything like the sword before, not in any book or museum. But there it was.

"Wonderful!" Rider clapped his hands in delight, hopping to his feet and circling around his partner to admire every part of the unique tool. "Splendid! A true work of art in its own way! No doubt indeed, this sword alone is proof of your class as Saber, my friend!"

"Gee, thanks." The Servant of the Sword lifted his class's weapon to run his hand along its side. "It's nice to know all the work I put into this thing is appreciated."

"Ah, so you constructed this beautiful blade yourself?!"

Saber X chuckled at the bigger Servant's words. "Yup, the place where I learned how to fight encouraged its students to train with weapons they designed and built themselves. And this bad boy that's stuck by me through thick and thin…" he twirled it again, the mighty edge slicing audibly through the air alongside one or two clockwork sounds, "is Harbinger." Saber X pointed it straight ahead. "The Dusty Old Crow's Tool of The Trade."

"Harbinger…" Waver repeated in reverence, brain still trying to process what he had just heard. Saber X had not only fought with this greatsword all his life but he even built it in the first place?! The boy realized then that this must be what he had read about in the book of the Holy Grail War, the armaments of the Heroic Spirits: the Noble Phantasms. "Crystalized miracles" that embodied the stories and mysteries whispered throughout time of those that resided within the Throne of Heroes. Reading about them was one thing, though. Seeing an actual Noble Phantasm in front of him, the lamp's light reflecting off its sleek surface?

That was something else entirely.

Rider beamed at the blade Saber X displayed once more, then fresh excitement flashed in his eyes. "Right then!" Waver barely registered something flying at him in time to catch the books Rider had tossed over. "Hold onto those, boy!" He commanded, grabbing hold of the spatha by his hip. "If my comrade chooses to prove his worth, it is only fair that I do the same!" Fully drawn, the sword was revealed to have a fine double-edged blade, with an ornate lion decorating its hilt, but rather unimpressive compared to Harbinger in Waver's opinion.

Saber X thought so too. "Mine's bigger," he teased, hefting his own sword.

Rider laughed at the jest, a confident smile for all to see. "Perhaps, but this is not my Noble Phantasm. Behold." He faced away from them and raised his weapon high above his head. "I am Iskandar, King of Conquerors! With the swing of my sword, I claim my supremacy!" He slashed the sword downwards with all his might and a battle cry, cutting through the air.

Clutching the books against his chest again, Waver first noticed how the streetlamp began to flicker until its light died. Then came a crack of thunder, drawing his and Saber X's eyes upward; the clouds had begun to gather into a spiral, winds howling and arcs of lightning crackling around the seemingly calm center of the sky. Rider returned to his full height.

Then a blue lightning bolt shot from the center to strike the ground in front of them, catapulting Waver backwards. Lying on the ground, he tried to peer through the smoke and curling static. As did the other Servant, holding his sword to his side and at the ready.

Their eyes widened as the object grew fully visible.

If Harbinger's introduction had left Waver's jaw slack, what stood before him sent it dropping straight to the ground. It was a massive chariot of ancient times, comprised of finely carved wood and bronze. It had been built with two prows and was pulled by two bulls of size and might equal to that of the transport. Curved sickles lay over the wheels on either side, sharp enough to plow through an entire forest in one charge.

"Just as I once cut through the knot and acquired this gift King Gordius made to Zeus." Rider spoke with a curious mixture of calm and pride as the other gaped at the chariot of dreams. "Now it is likely the source behind my classification as Rider. The Gordius Wheel: "Wheel of Heaven's Authority"." His smile then turned cheeky as he glanced over to the agape Servant, having abandoned his battle stance to just marvel at the chariot. "Well?"

Saber X stared at the Wheel for another few seconds, then a slow chuckle emerged from his shaking head. He finally looked back at his partner. "Touché," was all he said.

Rider barked a short laugh in triumph, "And that is not even truly my Noble Phantasm," before shifting his gaze from the curious Servant of the Sword towards his steed, left arm propped against his side. "Well, boy. I believe we have both proven our worth as Heroic Spirits. If you still seek the Grail, then find us two or three Servants to entertain ourselves with. Until then, these maps are my concern." He cast an amused eye, as did Saber X, towards their dumbstruck Master. "Any objections?"

Waver simply nodded, barely able to tear his gaze from the aberrations of reality before him. On one side, the Gordius Wheel, bulls huffing at the ready. On the other, Harbinger on its master's shoulder, scattering the moonlight with its sleek edge. These were the weapons of the Servants he had called, these heroes from other times and worlds that had formed a contract with him. Both beings looked so powerful now, so assured in their abilities, that he felt like this War was in the palm of his hands.

Rider grinned again and scooped up the dropped books, now flipping through the Odyssey one while Saber X walked over to Waver and stretched out his free left hand. It took another moment for the boy to understand, but he accepted the offer and let himself be pulled to his feet. "So," the dark-haired Servant asked, "where are we staying?"

"H-huh?" Waver's mind, still aflush with thoughts of wonder and imminent victory, failed to process the question.

"The place we're gonna be staying," Saber X repeated. "You're not gonna tell me we'll be sleeping under a bridge, are you?" A rapid shake of the head. "Then where's our 'base of operations?' The spot in this city we don't have to worry that another Servant might blindside us."

"Ah, right." Waver quickly explained to them the Mackenzie residence, where he had hypnotized the elderly couple from Canada into believing he was their grandson. Saber X had been less enthused about his method of acquiring lodging than Rider but accepted it after multiple assurances that the couple would not be harmed in any way. Then right after Waver told him the address and how they ought to reach it from here (good thing I checked the street map of Fuyuki), the sword-carrying man simply turned on his heel and began to walk off.

"H-hey!" A nonplussed Waver called out. "Where are you going?"

"Indeed," Rider thumbed behind himself, the opposite direction of where Saber X was heading. "We came from that route, therefore, our headquarters ought to be that way. And besides, it seems rather early for us to retreat. Let us celebrate our coming to this War!"

"I'll celebrate when there's something to celebrate." Saber X stopped briefly, his right fingers doing something that neither of the others could make out. But the result was Harbinger's blade swiftly retracting into itself. The man then flipped the collapsed weapon around to affix it somehow to the back of his waist before spreading his arms. "And I'm not heading for the house, Kandy Bar."

He paused at Rider's cackling at the informal nickname, Waver as well letting out an undignified snort before he could stop himself. "Ha! No one has ever referred to me as such before!" The Servant of the Mount smiled, patting his also chortling bulls. "Kandy Bar! I can see the resemblance to my name! And I appreciate the symbol of familiarity between us!"

"Eh," Saber X smirked in response, "you seem like a pretty decent guy to watch my back." He then thumbed at the city lights in the distance. "But I figured that this is a good chance to do a little recon of the whole city. If I'm going to be tearing up streets with the other Servants, I at least want to know where I can dump or ditch them. Who knows, maybe I can narrow down where they and their Masters are before the night's up."

"And find one or two establishments where you can refill your flask?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny." They both shared another chuckle. "I'll meet you back at the Mackenzie's." Saber X tapped his right index and middle finger to his forehead as a salute, then walked off in a peculiar manner: both hands shoved in his pockets and his upper body slouching forward. It made him look like some kind of bird.

But Waver was still unconvinced. "What about us?! You can't just go running off on your own in a city you don't know!"

"Which is why I'm checking it out."

The increasingly frustrated boy scampered to try and catch up with his long legs. "Argh, even if you go into spirit form, you still need me to provide you with mana, and I haven't even approved of this-" Waver barely caught himself from tripping over a crack.

Saber X just waved his hand, not even turning to look back. "Relax, pipsqueak, I know how to keep out of sight. And you can see my stats, right?" Waver blinked, then nodded dully. "Then you know I've got Independent Action. I can move about just fine without dragging you along." He was already starting to walk off again, but the other two could still hear his last mutterings, "…Probably better we split up anyways…"

Rider watched after him with a thoughtful expression, but Waver's blood began to boil again at the accusations; was he just a burden in Saber X's eyes? How dare that sarcastic drunken bastard look down on him?!

He was right, though, about the Independent Action Skill. It shimmered brightly in the air around the Servant's body just before he reverted to spirit form. And to be fair, his collective parameters and Skills were for the most part impressive, but from what Waver had read in the book of the Grail War, a Saber wouldn't regularly have that Skill; Independent Action was typically for the Archer class. And that wasn't the only oddity concerning Saber X.

The agitation of Waver's mind gave way to curiosity. What kind of Servant has E- as a rank for Luck?

---

-245:42:34

In a much colder environment, a Master completely different from Waver Velvet was having a more pleasurable time.

"All right!" Ilyasviel von Einzbern cheered, stomping through the snow in her boots as birds chirped around her. "No way I'm losing today!" She was fully dressed up against the chilly air and her vibrant red eyes darted across the many snow-caked trees of the forest.

Kiritsugu Emiya trailed after her, hands in his coat pockets, a small but genuine smile on his face. His own eyes scanned their surroundings, both to keep an eye out for wolf packs that tended to roam close by, and to watch for their current target.

Then they widened with a look up. "Oh, found one!"

Ilya gasped and spun around, bolting back to her father. "No way! Where is it, where? I know I didn't overlook anything!" Her eyes darted everywhere.

Kiritsugu knelt down to her level and pointed up to their left at his prize, nestled among the trees. "There it is: the first chestnut bud." He proudly rose back to his feet with a chuckle. "One point for me. Wouldn't mind keeping the rhythm…"

His sweet little daughter pouted for a moment, then she whirled back to the path. "I-I refuse to lose!" The current champion of finding chestnuts scampered off, searching everywhere she could. Kiritsugu shrugged in good nature and followed after her.

He had needed this. One day had passed since the attempt to summon King Arthur and its insane result. One day of him re-going after every scrap of information he had about the King of Knights, the other Masters of the Grail War, and anything else he deemed relevant in his waking moments. One day of avoiding running into the Heroic Spirits that were now bound to him. One day of doing frankly anything to ignore the turmoil in his mind at how his original plans had been thrown for a loop by the truth of Saber's identity… and Assassin X.

To be blunt, the latter was an enigma. The otherworldly Servant had proven quiet, relaxed, and polite towards anyone he interacted with. He had been seen wandering the halls of the Einzbern castle and keeping to himself, apparently trying to "give Kiritsugu space" in his own words. On one hand, the Mage Killer somewhat appreciated the humor of the Grail acquiescing of his preferences. But on the other, this Servant was from an alternate world, one quite different from the one he currently resided in if his clothes were any indication. Kiritsugu had little to no way of knowing what he was capable of, which frustrated him. He could ask, but there were no guarantees Assassin X's answers would be the truth aside from ordering him with a Command Seal, and those were too precious to waste.

Saber was simpler to understand, but far more frustrating in her own way. So, it had been a girl that had pulled the sword of selection Caliburn from the stone, not a boy. But of course, a medieval Britain would've never accepted a girl as their savior king. So, those who had witnessed it dressed her up as a boy and declared Arthur Pendragon as their king. Forcing all of their plans, all of their hopes on a young girl, telling her that she couldn't be a young girl or even an ordinary human anymore, she had to be the one that cast aside her entire life, all for the sake of the whole kingdom.

And she had gone along with it. The way Saber spoke, walked, held her head high, proved that she had allowed herself to be enraptured by all of the heroic ideals and chivalry of the knights that had surrounded her. She was proud of the burden thrust upon her. The sense of honor and pride that radiated from her sickened him to no end.

Blessed Iri had spent their time together encouraging him to interact with the Servants, assuring him that they would understand his goals and dreams. But as much as he loved her, Kiritsugu couldn't share her optimism. Saber was too noble and Assassin X too obscure.

Besides, he hadn't slept well. His dreams were filled with events and words and people foreign to him. But some of them were one thing he recognized: battlefields. Fields of people either cutting each other down with swords or axes, or breathing fire or sending torrents of water at their enemies with waves of their hands, or bursts of smoke where people appeared or disappeared. It was all so foreign and yet painfully familiar to the alleged mercenary.

Just last night, Iri had woken up at two in the morning to find him scrubbing his hands under the running sink. Kiritsugu himself couldn't really remember why. Only a feeling of guilt.

"There it is!" Ilya's joyful voice shook him free of his musings. The girl was crouching over another chestnut bud, beaming at him in triumph. "I, Ilya, have found one too~!" She sang.

Kiritsugu chuckled deviously to himself. He had not been too caught up in his thoughts that he had neglected their game. "But your daddy already has two." Oh, how his heart melted at the horrified squeak she released.

Ilya rapidly ran over to see his "second" find. "Hey," She frowned as soon as she saw it. "That branch doesn't have any chestnut buds."

"No, Ilya," Kiritsugu explained kneeling next to her, "this here is the bud of a wingnut." He gently tapped the branch. "It's a variety of a chestnut," he patted her on the shoulder, "therefore it counts too."

But Ilya trembled, making him drop the smile, before yelling out, "No fair!" She backed away from him, shaking her head in frustration. "Nofairnofairnofair!" Ilya hopped back to in front of him and started banging her tiny fists against his legs. "You've been cheating all this time, Kiritsugu!"

Had her mother been there, she would've scooped up the little girl to snuggle her from all the cuteness. It was a sentiment her father shared as he tried to shield himself from her assault. "B-but daddy has to bend the rules a bit, otherwise, he'd never win." He attempted to appeal to her logic. "Besides, this is a chance for you to learn, Ilya. See, wingnuts aren't eaten like chestnuts-"

But the white-haired girl turned away from him, crossing her arms and closing those beautiful red eyes as she pouted. "If you can't play fair, I won't play with you."

"Oh dear," Kiritsugu exclaimed in exaggerated horror, raising his right hand in apology, "I'm sorry, really! I apologize."

Ilya peeked open one eye from her pout. "…You promise not to cheat anymore?"

"I promise, no more counting wingnuts as well." But I never said anything about field nuts, hehehe…

Lucky for him, his sweet little girl had yet to learn the finer arts of deception. "Very well, I accept your challenge." Ilya flashed a bright smile as her arms fell back to her sides. Her fists then propped themselves against her hips when she declared, "A champion stands proud against any challenger!" with all the pride of an eight-year-old.

"But of course." Kiritsugu pretended to bow his head before her. "You honor me," his right eye peeked open as he quickly lunged forward, "my princess." Before Ilya could scamper away, he had hoisted her high atop his shoulders and risen to his feet.

Kiritsugu's daughter squealed in delight, waving her hands about. "So high~!" Then she kicked against his chest with her booties. "Mush, horsey!"

Kiritsugu winced a tiny bit on the inside (she tended to underestimate how strong her kicks were) but the pain was quickly swept away as he trotted through the snow, basking in her happy shrieks and laughter. This little thing atop his shoulders, the woman that had brought her into this world, the peace around them…

This was what he was fighting for. A world where everyone could enjoy these moments. And the chance to see that miracle come true was close, so tantalizing close.

I will save this world, Kiritsugu Emiya swore inwardly, regardless of the complications with Saber or Assassin X. No matter what anybody throws my way or what I have to do, I will-

C-CRACK.

The sound snapped Kiritsugu out of his thoughts, eyes darting everywhere. Was a wolf nearby? Or an intruder? Why was the weight on his shoulders… suddenly… off…?

He looked up in horror towards where his daughter should be, only to sigh in relief at those two eyes peering down at him. "You okay, Kiritsugu?"

"Y-yes, I'm fine. Daddy's just fine, Ilya…" That's when he finally noticed someone else standing next to him. Someone with a hand on his little girl. For his next question, the tone of a playful father gave way to the edge of the hardened killer he truly was. "What are you doing?"

"No worries," Assassin X remained calm even under the piercing gaze the man sent him. His appearance hadn't changed since when they had first met in the chamber. He retracted his hand from its spot on Ilya's back. "She's fine, just a little off-balance." The single eye darted upwards glittering with amusement. "That branch was a little too sturdy, huh?"

"I-I could've broken it all off!" Ilya protested, wagging a piece of wood Kiritsugu had failed to notice before. Pieces of snow melted between her fingers. She hadn't had the stick on her when he picked her up.

He gently popped her off his shoulders and knelt to set her gently down. "Ilya, where did you get that?"

She fiddled with the stick in her hands, not meeting her eyes. "W-when we were riding, I saw this funny branch close by and wanted it. So I grabbed it and tried to break it off." Ilya waved the broken piece in disappointment. "But it was tougher than I thought, I only got part of it. And I almost slipped off of you. That's when he," she shook the branch Assassin X's way, "stopped me from falling." Idiot, Kiritsugu cursed himself. She could've been hurt because I wasn't paying attention! I've allowed myself to get too distracted. Sloppy, stupid, useless…

Unaware of his Master's self-scolding, the Servant held up his hands in a peaceful manner. "I was just passing through myself and saw what was about to happen." His gaze turned teasing towards the increasingly flustered girl. "And it seems that you've learned something new today, young lady. Tree branches when wet snap harder than when dry, you see."

"I-I knew that!" A red-cheeked Ilya retorted, wagging the stick in the air. "It was just tougher than I had thought, a-a-and Kiritsugu was moving too fast for me to get a good grip! S-so it's his fault really!"

"Oh, I suppose it is," the father put on a smile and bowed again before his bundle of joy. "Please forgive me, my princess. Your humble steed should have been more watchful of his precious cargo."

Ilya quickly turned her head away from him, but he knew her well enough to tell when a silly grin was spreading across her face. "W-w-well, n-no harm done." She was now curious, sizing up the other man amid the trees. "So, who are you, mister? Haven't seen you before."

The mask covered his mouth, but Assassin X's eye closed in a way that gave one the impression he was smiling. "I'm a new arrival. Kiritsugu invited me here a while ago for something important." Technically true, his Master conceded. But he remained on guard.

"Oh, you're a friend of Kiritsugu's? What's your name?"

"My name? Hmm…" Assassin X scratched his chin and swayed his head to the sides in faux-thought. Then he bent his knees down so they could see eye-to-eye and stage-whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

Ilya enthusiastically nodded her head, earning a chuckle from the silver-haired man. "Alright then," he wiggled his finger at her, beckoning the little girl, "come closer so your daddy can't hear."

Ilya skipped over despite her father's joking protests and leaned as close as she could to the Servant's masked mouth. He whispered something into her ear, then she giggled. "Kakashi? That's a funny name."

Assassin X's eye shot open in mock horror. "You promised you'd keep it a secret!"

"Nope," Ilya smiled at him sweetly, "I just said I can keep a secret. I never said I would keep your name a secret." Daddy's so proud of you, my princess, Kiritsugu patted the top of her furry hat with a smirk. Admittedly, though, he was skeptical too. What kind of parent names their son "Scarecrow?"

Assassin X playfully hung his head in defeat. "…You've got me there." He looked up to her father. "You've raised a clever one." There was respect and kindness in his voice, strong enough that a part of even the cynical hunter of magi knew it to be sincere. …Why?

Ilya for her part puffed her chest in pride. "But of course! The champion must be smart enough to defeat all challengers!" Then her eyes glinted anew with curiosity. "So why do you hide your face?" She gasped. "Is it really ugly? Was it scarred by an enemy? Were you cursed at birth?"

"Ilya," Kiritsugu half-seriously chided her. "It's not polite to call someone ugly or assault them with such personal questions." Now I sound like Iri.

"It's okay," a chuckling Assassin X assured him while waving his hand, "I don't mind. And I personally think that my face is alright. Not too handsome, not too ugly. It's just that masks are terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future."

Ilyasviel giggled at his obvious joke but still stared at his hidden face. "…You really want to know what's behind this mask, don't you?" She nodded her head enthusiastically at the Servant's inquiry. He drummed his fingers against his knees, acting like he was mulling it over, then nodded himself.

"Okay, pay close attention, little one." He waved her over with his fingers, Ilya's red little eyes bright with eagerness. Assassin X's right index and middle finger curled over the tip of the fabric. "Behind this mask…" The girl leaned in ever closer, as did Kiritsugu, much to his own surprise.

Then it was suddenly down, revealing… more fabric?! "Is another mask~!" Assassin X finished triumphantly, his words still a bit muffled by the cloth of a slightly brighter color than the original. "Pretty cool, huh?"

It took every ounce of willpower Kiritsugu had attained over the years to keep his face neutral. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or strangle the Servant. Or both.

Instead, he glanced down at a quivering Ilya. Oh, boy… Finally, his beloved daughter erupted in another temper tantrum. "NO FAIR!" She screeched, wagging her head again and whining like a cute white and pink Chihuahua. "Cheater! I'm surrounded by cheaters!"

Once again, the snuggle urge arose. Unaware of his father's feelings, Ilya began to stomp away with a huff. "You're a friend of Kiritsugu all right, Kakashi, you're both big cheaters!"

"Consider us even for before." Assassin X replied in a sweet tone, pushing the first mask back in place. That comment, jovial though it was, made her sputter all the more in the outrage only a child was capable of. She soon started bickering with Assassin X who took it all in stride with a relaxed humor. And turned the tables on her again before long.

I just had to summon a sneaky trickster that drives my daughter crazy, didn't I?

But to his own shock, Kiritsugu found he couldn't stop smiling at the antics between the two.

And much as she tried to pretend otherwise, Ilya was amused with his goofier moments. After a while, they began to head back towards the house, her father having gracefully conceded defeat to her in the chestnut game. The two walked together holding hands, Assassin X trailing a few steps respectfully behind them. Kiritsugu allowed himself to enjoy these peaceful seconds of her tiny fingers curled around his, gently swinging his arm in the cold air, their steps in tact through the snow. Regardless of his heart telling him he didn't deserve this, not for the things he had done, the things he was going to do, the last of the Emiya bloodline tried to ignore it for the sake of preserving his girl's happiness.

"We'll have to wait for the next round when you're back from Japan, right?" Ilya asked innocently as the house drew closer.

Right… Japan. Fuyuki City. The War to come.

But Kiritsugu kept his smile up. "I'm afraid so." All three stopped just on the outskirt of the forest, a little bit away from the Einzbern residence.

She looked behind them. "Is the work Kiritsugu has to do there why you're here, Kakashi?"

The Servant behind them cast a subtle look of inquiry towards her father, who gave a slight nod in return, hoping the message was clear. He closed the distance and did that eye-smile towards the little girl. "Yes, it's pretty important for both me and your father. Hence why we're heading there to work together."

Ilya nodded before glancing up towards the other man. "Will he be coming back? How long will it be before you and Mama are back anyway?"

"I ought to be back in two weeks or so," Kiritsugu replied; that was the usual length for a Grail War. "And if Kakashi has time, I can invite him to come with me." A lie he told to avoid a potential hissy fit. None of the Servants ever remained after the War ended. Now came an even more painful lie. "But Mama will have to take a little longer, I'm afraid."

Bastard. Can't even tell your daughter that she'll never see her mother again. Can't even tell her that she's going to be a sacrifice for what I hope to accomplish.

But dear precious Ilya continued to talk like nothing was wrong. "Yeah, Mama said that I wouldn't see her again." That simple sentence stole the breath from Kiritsugu's lungs and the strength from his limbs. He stumbled briefly before catching himself, shooting a glance at Assassin X who had taken a step next to him. The Servant's posture indicated he was concerned, but the father didn't want his pity. Not when both his wife and daughter talked so casually about the truth when he could barely accept it himself.

The silver-haired man seemed unsure about what was going on, but instead of prying, he knelt down to Ilya's level. "Well, I'm very sorry to hear that."

But Ilya shook her head with a smile. "I'm not." He blinked in surprise as she continued. "Mama said that even if we don't see each other for a long time, she'll always be right beside me. That's what she told me before bed, and that I shouldn't feel sad. Mama's always going to be with me!" She sounded so sincere, so sure of herself that it took everything for Kiritsugu not to break down, to keep any emotions from showing.

But he couldn't stop himself from pulling Ilya into a tight hug. "Kiritsugu?" She mumbled into his eye.

He just rubbed little circles into her back. "Can you wait for me, Ilya? Will you hold out in the loneliness until I come back?"

"Sure! I'm not going anywhere."

"…Then I promise." Kiritsugu squeezed her a little tighter. "Daddy will come as quickly as possible." It was another burden, another promise he wasn't sure he could keep, but-

Fabric shuffled next to them, making the man look up to see Assassin X watching the two. His face was still mostly covered by that mask and that protector, but somehow, Kiritsugu knew there wasn't a hint of malevolence or feigned empathy in the gray eye. "…You have some impressive parents, Miss Ilya." He finally said, a minute tremor midway through his words. The Master almost missed it.

The red-eyed girl slipped out of the hug to nod towards him. "Thank you, Kakashi! And I'd like to play with you again if you really come back."

Assassin X let out a tiny chuckle. "Well, if your father is okay with it. But at the very least, I can make sure that he gets back to you in time."

"So you'll keep an eye on him, then?" Kiritsugu was touched by the innocent concern in his daughter's request.

"…As many as I can spare." He tapped the metal covering his left eye, making Ilya giggle. "But you'll see each other again. That's my promise to both of you." Why did Kiritsugu feel… reassured? He barely knew this familiar.

The eye-smile appeared again. "And maybe next time, I'll show you for real what my face looks like."

Ilya turned her head away slightly. "What makes you think I even want to see your stupid face anymore?"

Kakashi sighed in slight melodrama. "Well, if you're not interested…"

"I-I never said that! Kiritsugu, stop laughing at me!"

He quickly clapped both hands in apology as his chuckling died down. "Sorry, my princess. No offense meant." She huffed, crossing her arms into another pout. Kiritsugu rose to his feet. "…Do you mind going ahead into the castle before us, Ilya? There are a few things I need to talk about with Kakashi." She peered up in curiosity, but he just smirked. Now for my secret weapon. "There may be a new friend waiting for you in your room."

Ilya's eyes sparkled like red stars; there were few things she liked more than winning and new stuffed animals. She quickly turned and bolted for the nearest entrance, waving in passing to them. "Bye-bye, Kakashi. It was nice meeting you!" Both men waved back.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Kiritsugu exhaled the mirth he had felt with a deep sigh. He'd been a loving father, now it was time to be the Mage Killer. "Kakashi, then? Is that really your name?"

Assassin X leaned in a casual manner against a tree, hands in his pockets. "Well, it said so on my birth certificate and my father called me that all the time when I was little, so…"

"Pardon my skepticism, but it's not what most would consider a name."

He received a look. "This coming from the man whose name consists of two kanji in direct contradiction to one another."

Kiritsugu forced down a snort and was surprised. How long had it been since he had felt this familiar with someone other than Iri or Ilya? Not even Maiya could elicit a feeling of humor like this. "…You can blame my father for that." And a good plenty of other things…

Assassin X chuckled a bit at the retort, then nodded towards the castle. "You and your wife have a wonderful daughter. Five years?"

"Eight." That earned him a sharper look. "We know, she's small for her age. What were you really doing out here?"

Assassin X apparently got the unspoken hint and went with the change. "There's only so far in the castle I'm allowed to go, so I thought I could do with some fresh air. And before you ask, yes, I was also keeping an eye on you. You are my Master after all, whether or not you acknowledge it. And someone might always try to pay a not-so-friendly visit."

"The Einzberns take great pride in their Bounded Field and other wards."

"Doesn't mean that no one can reach this place." Assassin X didn't so much as blink. "But then, you don't strike me as someone who blindly puts faith in others."

"…I'm not." And I haven't been one for a long time. Luckily.

"Which is why you've been keeping your distance from me and Saber." The Servant wasn't asking.

The Master crossed his arms and looked towards a certain window. "Let's just say that I'm not interested in fawning over replicas of heroes from bygone eras. Or alternate worlds." He could almost feel a particular blonde eyeing him.

"Especially when one's strong sense of honor directly contrasts against your way of thinking and the other you can't make heads or tails of?" Kiritsugu's eyes darted back towards the one next to him. He in turn shrugged. "It's not that hard to figure out."

He was perceptive. Kiritsugu still knew next to nothing about Assassin X, but ever since they had first met a day ago, he had a sense that every move made by the additional Servant he had summoned was… calculated. Like he was constantly probing his surroundings with each word, each movement or even when doing nothing at all. It reminded Kiritsugu of how Natalia had instructed him years ago.

Maybe that was why Kiritsugu was so wary around this one: he wouldn't trust himself much, either.

So then why was he simultaneously curious about this person?

With all this in mind, he decided to do a little probing himself. "Saber and I are too different in our mindsets and methods. We would never be able to see eye-to-eye, so there's no point in trying." Simple, logical and blunt. A good combination to draw out a line in the sand.

And Assassin X took the bait. "That's a rather defeatist attitude, especially since neither of you really know the other. You might just end up surprised, Master, if you take a first step."

"An interesting statement coming from the one who introduced himself with the words, and I quote, 'I have no desire to tell you my likes and dislikes right now,' unquote." Kiritsugu's words lacked any humor, though.

"Right now." Assassin X repeated, closing his eye, and sighed. "I was making a joke, trying to lighten the mood. If you want to know more about me, Kiritsugu Emiya, you're welcome to ask."

Yeah, right. He conceals most of his face, his body language is minimal, and his sentences are worded in such a way that he can evade giving personal details. All marks of training in counterinterrogation tactics. And now he tells me that I just need to ask? Is this a trick?

"Asking seems to be of little point, considering whatever you say or have said may be a fabrication." Kiritsugu pointed out before glancing down at the Command Seals on his left hand. "And I'd rather spare these for an actual crisis."

"So, you'd go into battle unaware of what your comrades are capable of rather than take a leap of faith?" Assassin X asked in a neutral manner.

Kiritsugu's eyes narrowed. "Comrades?" That particular word stuck out. Not "subordinates," not "allies," but "comrades." Based on what little intel he had gathered from observing the Servant of Assassination, he knew that he wasn't one to slip up in his word choice. Is he hoping that we all become comrades, then? I wouldn't have guessed that of him.

The Mage Killer felt a pang of disappointment. He was an idealist as well, then. Like Saber. So he decided to finish this little talk. "We're not 'comrades,' Assassin X. Our target, the Holy Grail, is merely the same. As long as neither of you hinder me in any way, I won't give you unnecessary grief. But don't expect me to waste time indulging your ideals."

"Really?" Assassin X pushed himself off the tree but gave no other reaction. "You have the whole situation already figured out?"

"Regardless of their fame or legends, Servants are basically glorified familiars." Kiritsugu paraphrased the same words he had told Iri not long ago. "I see both you and Saber as tools to carry out my mission. Nothing more." That was the truth, but also a test. If he had directed these words towards Saber, she would most likely show outrage, condemn him for insulting her pride. But this one? He had a good grasp of emotions, but there was a hint of honor among his words, like that promise he had made to Ilya. It had been sincere, he was sure of it. How would he react?

"…I see. Well, that's a shame." And Assassin X simply turned towards the entrance and began to walk towards it. His Master watched him go with a neutral expression. Looks like he's given up. He made to head for the same destination. Good. I already have enough to think about without listening to nonsense-

"I hadn't pegged you as a wasteful person."

Kiritsugu paused in mid-step. That wasn't the response he had expected. "…Excuse me?"

Assassin X stopped walking but continued to face the castle. "I can appreciate keeping a professional distance from those working with you. And it is true, both I and Saber were ultimately summoned as tools to serve you. Being Heroic Spirits, we cannot call this current time and world our own, so our judgement may be flawed."

"…I sense a 'but' coming."

"Let's make it a 'still.'" Once again, Kiritsugu had to fight to restrain his humor. "Still, if I were to go into battle, I would at least make sure I knew the extent of my 'tools'' capabilities. Pragmatism is certainly one way to go, but not letting us in on the entire plan or learning what we Servants can do is rather poor management of resources." Assassin X tilted his head back so his one eye peered at the black-suited man. "I know you can see general information about me, but it would be helpful if I went into more detail, right?

He gestured towards the same window Kiritsugu had been eyeing earlier. "The same with Saber. She may have quite the selection of stories about her, but it wouldn't hurt to learn from her herself what exactly the King of Knights can do. You wouldn't have to worry about her lying like you do with me, either." Something resembling amusement slipped into his words. "Saber's an honest one, you can tell just by looking at her."

Kiritsugu couldn't argue with that, it was one of her characteristics that irritated him. And much as he tried to dismiss the Servant's arguments, he couldn't fault the logic they carried. He had learned to prepare as much in advance as possible for a mission to minimize unknown variables. The stats he could read of Assassin X were surely accurate but limited and easy to misinterpret. And it was already plain to see that the stories about King Arthur had mixed up one or two things. He definitely had to revise his intel on their abilities.

Especially with the fact that the number of enemy Servants had doubled. That didn't necessarily mean every Master would have two under their command, but in a way, the alternative was worse. More Servants, potentially more Masters, more chances that someone other than him may acquire the Grail. More chances that he would fail.

He could not fail. He had staked everything for this singular chance, for this miracle.

So, could he accept this? "Are you sure that I'm willing to compromise my plans so easily?" Kiritsugu finally asked his Servant. "For all you know, I might just order you with a Command Seal to keep your trap shut and follow all of my instructions."

Assassin X turned around to face him properly. "From what I gather, you seem to be one who values efficiency over tradition in terms of magic. The other Einzbern family members have had some colorful words for you, Master, the most common one being 'heretic.'" Kiritsugu wasn't bothered; the only Einzberns whose opinions he cared for were his wife and daughter. And other magi had called him worse. Usually just before he killed them.

"So, the way it looks to me, you're more willing to use unorthodox methods than others." Assassin X continued. "And if you wanted me to be obedient, you'd have used the Seal by now. So I'd say my odds aren't that bad."

The Master shook his head with more humor than he'd thought. "You're really dead-set on us working together, aren't you?"

"I seek the Grail, too, Kiritsugu Emiya. But I'm not so arrogant that I can think I can win it without any help or so desperate that I can't consider alternatives. What about you?"

And then he sauntered off towards the entrance, opened and stepped inside the castle without another word, leaving the man alone with his thoughts and a lot more to consider than when he'd first stepped outside.

As he ambled through the ornate halls of the Einzbern family, appreciating the view through the windows, passively noting the many chandeliers, red carpets, portraits (any single feature would've required at least two months' worth of mission salaries for him, plus he'd have to tighten his belt for a good long while), Assassin X released a tired sigh. That talk had gone about as he had expected; he hadn't lied once, not about why he was in the forest, not how he kept that little girl from tumbling off her father, and not during any part of the conversation with said father.

Good thing, too: Kiritsugu Emiya was a sharp man, he could tell that much, and judging from how many of the family here seemed to avoid the man due to more than just him being a "heretic" in their eyes, very dangerous when crossed. Kakashi was lucky he hadn't been ordered via Command Seal to kill himself or something like that while in proximity to Ilya.

The sweet thing's image brought a hidden smile to his face. He could tell that she was something his Master cared for dearly, just like how he always softened by a miniscule fraction when interacting with his wife, and those moments proved there was a heart inside the man. Reaching it was another story, though, especially with those eyes.

Assassin X had seen too many veterans with eyes like that of Kiritsugu Emiya in his life. Hell, he was pretty sure his own eyes had been like that for a while. Definitely in my time in ANBU after Rin.

A tremor went through Assassin X, but he kept walking. Anyone with such empty eyes had seen horror not just once. That kind of emptiness came from repeated clashes with the darkness, where each encounter had sapped away more and more of one's light.

The man couldn't be older than Kakashi when he had died, trapped in rubble, using the last of his energy to save Choji from an attack from behind, but he gave off the impression that he had experienced too much, been broken far too many times. The Servant couldn't help but sympathize on some level with him (besides the fact that Kiritsugu's voice reminded him of his junior and friend Yamato for some reason).

And yet, Irisviel had told him and Saber that her broken, bitter husband's wish for the Grail was to save the world. Curious for a man that appeared so cynical. But he believed them.

Now, Assassin X respected such a wish and could understand an… appreciation for a pragmatic thought process, but he had a hunch that the latter wouldn't sit well at all with Saber. Not with how irritated she had seemed at their Master's dodging any encounter with her this last day. And she hadn't appeared all that eager to spend time with him anyways.

Those two are practically at complete opposite poles of morality, Assassin X mused with a sigh. And normally, I'd say that them not interacting period is the healthiest option. But a war is on the horizon. We're supposed to be on the same side, and they can barely manage to remain in the same room together. If I keep letting this animosity build up between them, it's going to blow up in all of our faces.

His mind flashed through the times with Rin and Obito. All that time spent bickering with him, and look how that had ended. I'd rather avoid a repeat performance.

Well, I had a feeling appealing to Kiritsugu's honor or humanity wouldn't get anywhere. And he's not one of those magic traditionalists the Grail informed me of where pride and sociopathic pursuit of knowledge is everything. He's more like a soldier, dedicated to a single cause. I have to make him think about the tactical benefits of our teamwork. It seemed to have some effect, so… He quietly voiced a hopeful prayer even as his pace slowed.

His destination was just in sight. Alright, one pole reached, maybe. Now let's see if I can't reach its counterpart.

He took a quick look inside the room where he had sensed her presence, reassured himself that she was still there, and knocked one finger against the doorframe.

Saber turned from where she had been gazing out the window and Irisviel looked up from a magazine on the table. "Good day," Assassin X greeted them with a raised hand, the other in his pocket. "May I join you?"

The homunculus smiled at him. "But of course, Assassin X. Please." She gestured towards the empty chair opposite from her. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"Not at the moment, thank you, Miss Irisviel." She giggled a little at that eye-smile he made while approaching the table but remained standing. "Perhaps later."

"Alright, but I'll hold you to it. And no 'miss,' please. It makes me sound older than I really am." Even though I look older than I am actually am, Iri thought in self-conscious humor.

Saber's face remained neutral even as he walked further into the room. Finally, she noted, "It seems you have proven to be a more successful Servant than myself, Assassin X."

A silver eyebrow rose. "How so?"

"You actually managed to trade words with our Master, something I failed to do." A tiny part of her, the remnants of that immature child she had once been, was rankled at this admission. Much as she tried to deny it, Saber had never been one to appreciate coming short of an objective. Or someone achieving where she could not. But that was not befitting a knight.

Assassin X merely shrugged. "Oh, that's simply because I stumbled upon an opportunity and grabbed hold of it with both hands. A little luck and initiative." Irisviel giggled at his words while he noticed a subtle clenching of the blonde's fingers. A bit of a sore loser, are we?

Good thing his mask hid his amusement, otherwise, Assassin X had a feeling he'd be in some hot water.

"Congratulations for both of these qualities," Saber replied after another moment. She noticed his apprising eye and finally asked, "Is there something that troubles you?"

"A few things," Assassin X admitted, "And yes, I do have a few questions concerning you."

"Does my gender bother you that much?" Saber preferred the direct approach for most issues in general, and especially now, she had little patience for beating around the bush. The two Servants hadn't exchanged more than a few words, most of them greetings, between now and their initial meeting. She couldn't be sure whether he was trustworthy or not.

So, it was a bit unexpected when he casually shook his head. "Not really. Even if the legend of King Arthur was obviously slightly mistaken," Iri giggled again along with his chuckle, "I don't doubt your abilities as a swordswoman or a leader. The latest leader of the village I called home was a woman as well."

"Really?" Iri asked for both of them, her curiosity growing alongside Saber's.

"One of the strongest individuals alive, too, and the finest medical expert of our world without question." Assassin X scratched the back of his head with a slight chuckle. "She did have notoriously abysmal luck when it came to gambling, though."

Irisviel's laughter lasted longer than before, but Saber frowned at the revelation. A leader should know better than to gamble when her first focus should be for her people. Pendragon couldn't help but be critical of this, and it wasn't the only thing that stuck out about this man in front of her.

But he wasn't done. "What really concerns me is your age." She stiffened a bit. "You were a king when you were that young? You died and became a Heroic Spirit when you were that young?" Kakashi's words had nothing but compassion; Saber didn't look older than fourteen, an age where many of the youths of the Hidden Leaf Village were still training as genin, some even reaching chunin level. But none of them ever had to be responsible for an entire kingdom.

But to his own surprise, Saber remained standing upright. "As Irisviel and I discussed earlier, this is simply the age of when I drew the Sword of Selection. Once I held it, its magic stopped me from ageing permanently. And though I lost it in a later incident, Avalon," his eye narrowed at that incredible sheathe that the Master had used as a catalyst, "has much of the same properties."

"But still, to have your physical age halted, to have to give up on a normal life and become king…"

Saber's eyes narrowed at the supposed pity shown towards her. "With all due courtesy, Assassin X, I already have our Master judging me and the people of our time for the choice I made. I took on the mantle of King of Britain because it was the only way to save Britain at the time. If I have any regrets, those are for how my people suffered. But I stand by my duties now as I did then."

Assassin X quickly held up his hands in an attempt to placate her. "Please, Saber, forgive me. I meant no offense to you or your people, I promise." And he hadn't; the entire appearance of Saber, even without her armor or that sword he had read about a few hours ago, commanded respect. Despite her size or gender, he carried her chin high, met his gray eye with her own jade without wavering, and stood strong.

She fully believes in the ideals of her time and kingdom. And judging by the passion of her last sentences, Saber deeply cared for her people. Cared… and cares. From what I've read, Camelot fell to a number of circumstances, including some of King Arthur's misjudgments. And yet, she still loves Britain with all her heart, doesn't she?

Kakashi Hatake couldn't remember the last time someone with the apparent age of King Arthur had impressed him this much.

Saber for her part closed her eyes and remembered her discipline. She had overreacted to his inquiries and misinterpreted their meaning. She couldn't let her emotions blind her judgement, she had to be ever the King of Knights. Ever the prefect king her people needed. Once open again, they gazed levelly at her supposed partner. She still didn't understand why the Holy Grail War had suddenly changed to accommodate fourteen Servants, nor could she fathom why the one that shared a Master with her was an Assassin.

"…Your apology is accepted, Assassin X," Saber finally said. "Forgive my heat just now." She made to step for the door; a little time outside and some sword practice could be just the thing to release some tension. "If Irisviel and you would excuse me…" the woman inclined her head.

But Assassin X rose a hand. Not in her way, but palm up. "Actually, I was hoping we could talk a little more. Concerning our teamwork for the battles ahead."

Saber cast a skeptical look his way while Irisviel tilted her head. "No offense," the former started in a cordial tone, "but I would've thought you'd keep your strategies to yourself. As I recall, you did say you didn't want to tell us about yourself."

Assassin X hung his head in exaggerated self-deprecation. "I'm going to have a very hard time with my jokes, I can see it now…" he mumbled.

"Or maybe you just picked the wrong audience," Irisviel offered with a giggle. She looked towards Saber as well, though. "But it might not hurt for you two to get acquainted."

She in turn kept her expression neutral. "Irisviel, I appreciate your kindness and our discussions, but… I do not believe Assassin X and I would find much common ground."

"Because of the class I represent." The statement was simple, without judgement, but direct. Saber focused on Assassin X who stood a little straighter now, like he had put aside the humor for this. "You don't have the highest opinion of assassins, then?"

Saber frowned; if he wished to challenge her, she wouldn't back down. "In my experience, assassins are deceptive beings that strike without mercy or honor. Some would argue that they have value, but I am not one of them. I never once employed any during my reign because I saw no need for their kind." She prepared to summon her armor just in case. "My apologies, Assassin X, but I stand by my beliefs and the way of honor I was taught."

"As do I." Assassin X replied without any indication of offense taken. He had expected this sort of thinking from her. Saber had been trained to confront any situation head-on, as an honorable knight. And moreover, she fully believed in it. That sense of honor gave one strength, but it also tended to blind them in the veteran ninja's experience. She hadn't been the first he'd met that derided shinobi like that.

Alright. Let's see if this works. "It's rather peculiar, though."

Saber blinked; she had expected scorn or derision, but he sounded conversational. "…What is?" she probed carefully.

The Servant of the Shadows shrugged again. "Just that you so casually lay judgement upon me and the things you believe I have done due to my classification," he shifted slightly to eye her from the side, "…while insisting that neither our Master nor I have the right to judge you and the people of your time for dressing up a girl as a boy and naming them king."

The Servant of the Sword stiffened. "That's…" she stammered, trying to maintain her demeanor, "The two… are not the same… We did… what was… necessary…"

As have I," Assassin X countered calmly. "I commend you as a king if you truly managed to rule successfully without resorting to the underhanded tactics that would require an assassin, but in my world, ninja like me are required to protect their villages and maintain peace. And for the record, we don't always slit throats in the night or poison people, though that may be the only options from time to time.

"But that doesn't mean we don't know honor." The silver-haired man continued, any trace of joking long gone. Now he reminded Artoria a bit of the hardened knights she had commanded centuries ago. "I have been trained in the ways of the shinobi since I was five years old. I have both taken lives and saved them, I have covered up terrible secrets for the sake of my village and my comrades. And I have also trained others in our ways so as to ensure our home would always be protected. But I kept my ideals close to my heart then, and I still do now. Please do not assume I don't know honor even if it differs from your own."

"Assassin X, please," Irisviel had risen from her seat and was moving to between them, watching the female Servant with concern, "I'm certain Saber didn't mean any disrespect towards you or your people."

"And I'm not really insulted, Irisviel," the male replied in a gentle voice, "nor did I intend to hurt her in turn. I just wanted to point out a slight hypocrisy in her judgement."

"Well, yes, and I'm sorry that we didn't try asking you about the ways of your home, though I'm not quite sure what 'shinobi' are-"

"…It's alright, Irisviel." The white-haired woman looked behind her. "He made a valid point." Saber eyed the ground in slight shame; much as she would've preferred not to think about it, the other Servant was right to stand up against her accusations. She had simply assumed he was an irresponsible trickster, her judgement not helped by his appearance reminding her of a certain wizard. But like Merlin, Assassin X proved that he could take things seriously. Another similarity was the tone he had spoken in this entire time: not angry, not condescending, but scolding, like a teacher that was disappointed with his pupil.

Someone squeezed her shoulder lightly, prompting the Heroic Spirit to start looking up. "Irisviel, I appreciate your concern, but-" her eyes widened as Assassin X stood next to the homunculus in front of her, his eye doing that soft smile again.

"…I don't think he's holding it against you," Iri commented with a giggle. She had been quite curious about the unknown Servant herself, but this talk had enlightened her to his true nature. Despite her own admitted pure view, Kiritsugu had given his wife plenty of lessons on deception, and she couldn't find any lies in Assassin X's ways. Good-humored, relaxed, but also stalwart in his own beliefs.

Of course, she could be wrong.

Assassin X nodded to her words. "We differ in our view on certain topics. That doesn't mean I hate you, Saber."

"But you seek the Grail as well, don't you?" Puzzled by the sudden question of his Master's beloved, he nodded again. "Then you could just leave," Irisviel pointed out, her slight sharpness surprising both Servants. "Grandfather's wards are powerful, but if you're anywhere as skilled as Saber, you could easily slip away from this castle and find a different Master, one that doesn't give you such grief. I love my husband and believe in his dream with all my heart, but I know he hasn't treated any more fairly than Saber. There's no reason for you to continue enduring us."

Iri may have sounded harsh, but she wanted to see for herself if her assessment of this Heroic Spirit was right. If he was truly insulted, she didn't want to be one of those who barred his departure. But she truly hoped that he would prove her right.

…Heh. She really is Kiritsugu's wife.

But Assassin X shook his head with more sharpness than usual. "Those who abandon the mission are trash." For the first time since her summoning, Saber felt a gaze equal in resolve to her own, all from one single narrowed eye. "And those who abandon their comrades are lower than trash."

Artoria and Irisviel were impressed; not just at the words, but the strength behind them. "Is that the code of the shinobi from where you lived?" The knight asked.

More of a personal creed," Assassin X replied. "It took me a while to understand it, but it's something I believe with all my soul." He drew in another breath, then continued. "Look, regardless of how the War's rules have suddenly changed, Saber and I now serve the same Master. Maybe there's a greater plan behind that fact or maybe not, but even still, I still believe we can accomplish more if we work together. I have a feeling I can trust you, Saber, and I'm willing to work to earn your trust as well. So please consider this a first step:

Assassin X tapped the left side of his chest with his right hand and bowed his head. "I am Kakashi Hatake, jonin-rank shinobi of the Village Hidden in The Leaves. I currently serve as Assassin X in this Holy Grail War." He gave them that eye-smile. "I look forward to our partnership."

For the longest time, Saber simply stared at the man in front of her, then a little smile emerged. "Well, it would be unbecoming of me not to repay your offer in trust." She copied his actions. "I am Artoria Pendragon, king of Britain. I currently serve as Saber in this Holy Grail War. I too hope our partnership is mutually beneficial and acceptable."

Irisviel silently watched their interaction in joy, delighted that her husband had summoned such amazing people and that they had reached this middle ground. It invigorated her hope.

A throat being cleared drew their attention. All three turned to see the Servants' Master standing in the doorway, hands in his coat pockets and an unreadable expression on his face. "Saber, Assassin X," Kiritsugu addressed them. "We need to talk."

Both nodded to acknowledge the request. The human then stepped into the room, eyes briefly darting to his wife before they focused on the female Servant. A flicker of pride went through him as he recalled listening to her test of Assassin X, but he'd give her kudos later.

"To be frank, I still have my reservations about you two," he started. "And I have my doubts that all three of us could ever see eye-to-eye." Saber's eyes narrowed while Assassin X inclined his head. This is going so well. "…But as one of you so eloquently said, we're supposed to be on the same side. And we can be more successful if we all know the plan." Kakashi breathed a mental sigh of relief. Looks like there's hope with this team after all.

Saber on the other hand had not expected this. From what she had perceived, Emiya had seemed completely assured in his own decisions. Why would he suddenly consider any sort of compromise? Unless… A corner of her mouth curled upwards as she eyed her partner. Merlin would have approved of you, Kakashi Hatake.

"With that in mind, I will have to alter somewhat the tactics I had in mind before you were summoned. And for that, I'll need you to elaborate on your capabilities." Kiritsugu's eyes sharpened. "Including your Noble Phantasms."

Saber agreed to this. "Very well." Holding out her right hand, she called forth her weapon for them to see. Or rather, not see; her legendary sword was wreathed in swirling winds, as when she had first been summoned. "This is the first of my Noble Phantasms:" Saber explained, "Invisible Air: "Barrier of The Wind King". Merlin enchanted the winds to ensure my sword would be hidden from enemy view."

"Excalibur is a legendary weapon," Kiritsugu conceded, eyeing the obscured weapon with gears turning. "At least we can let you fight against the other Servants with lesser risk of them figuring who they're up against." He scratched his chin. "Is that its only application?"

"No, Invisible Air is as sharp as any blade, hindering none of my cutting ability with my swings. I can also project it to an extent, allowing it to be wielded as a ranged weapon. However, I admit its simplest use is for Excalibur's concealment."

"And I can certainly see why it needs to be concealed." All three turned towards Assassin X who was looking at the hidden sword. With both eyes; he had pushed up his headband to reveal his left one. A small scar ran vertically over the organ as seen when he blinked, but what truly caught their attention was the eye itself. Unlike its right counterpart, this one was red in color and had three swirling shapes around its iris that Kiritsugu, the only Japanese native, realized were tomoe. An intriguing feature.

The Servant of the Shadows for his part continued to scan the sword with awe. "I've never seen a weapon that could be called its equal. It's… Magnificent." And that wasn't a word that Kakashi used lightly. But here, he wasn't sure even that word was strong enough to do "The Sword of Promised Victory" justice. Nobody who saw it once would be able to forget it.

"You can see my sword?" Saber asked in astonishment.

"Ah, right." Assassin X shook his head to reorient his thoughts. He then closed his right eye and pointed up at his left. "This is my primary Noble Phantasm, Sharingan: "A Gift from a Fallen Brother". It grants me a number of unusual abilities, one of which being that I can see mana and distinguish it by color and source." He pointed at the sword in Saber's hands. "My eye is currently discerning the individual currents of your Invisible Air and seeing the true sword underneath. Other obstructions, like a table or cloth, wouldn't hinder me much either."

"Incredible," Irisviel breathed, her own red eyes darting between the two Servants. She then tilted her head. "Could this… Sharingan be a sort of Mystic Eye?"

"Technically, it is. But I wasn't born with it." Assassin X sighed a bit mournfully. "It was transplanted from its original owner to me just before he died. A final gift. So, coupled with how it's a large part of the stories told about me, this factor is likely the reason why it's a Noble Phantasm and not just a Personal Skill."

Kiritsugu's mind was already considering tactics that could use this Noble Phantasm to its fullest extent. But then he remembered an important detail. "You said that eye gives you abilities. Plural. Mind filling us in on the others?"

"Not at all. The Sharingan also lets me place illusions in others' minds via eye contact, as well as analyze their movements to the point of slight precognition. I can even copy certain techniques by analyzing the use of chakra- sorry, Magical Energy and the accompanying body movements." He flashed a rather cheeky V-sign. "Back on my world, people knew me as the Copy Ninja because I would duplicate the jutsu of others even in the midst of battles."

"Then why would you conceal it with the headband?" An impressed Saber asked. "Is it to obscure your identity as I do with Invisible Air?"

"No, that's because I can't shut it off, and due to not having inherited it through birth, my body lacks the natural stamina for unlimited use of the Sharingan. Even as a Heroic Spirit, I have to keep it closed on a regular basis lest I exhaust my reserves."

Translation: We can't grow dependent on that eye. But credit where credit's due, Kiritsugu conceded, that is a very valuable ability. Even if I had summoned Assassin X alone, I could still think of a couple different ways to dispatch the other Masters just with that. Saber's wind trick is equally valuable considering we'll have to keep our cards close to the chest for as long as we can. But I doubt that's all with either of them.

Next to her husband, Iri's eyes sparkled with interest. "You mentioned something called 'jutsu,' Assassin X. What does that mean?"

"Jutsu are mystical arts we shinobi use, Irisviel, similar to the Thaumaturgy practitioners of magic use on this world. You see, on my world, the ninja can…"

And over the next two days, the four individuals discussed and strategized over each piece of information deemed important for the upcoming battles. But none of them were aware of how their current efforts would affect the course of fate.

---

-222:24:48

A little more blood was spread in a semi-straight line. "Fill, fill, fill'em up, fill…" Ryuunosuke Uryuu mumbled to himself while continuing to paint the weird symbol in the book he held onto the wooden planks of the house he had snuck into. Whoops, he had underdone part of the circle there. This thing was so freakin' complicated. Ah, well, easy fix. He still had plenty of material too.

"Repeat four times- hang on," he caught himself. "When each is filled, break it, or destroy. No, no, that's not right, is it? Four or five?" He checked the book he had found at his parents' house, not far from where he had killed his sister. Scrolling a finger along the seriously old texts, he tried again, counting with the other hand's fingers. "Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Yeah, five times it is!" This had been his fifth time trying to make the cool circle, so maybe it was good luck. Fifth time's the charm, right?

The TV was still on, showing a report of his last visits around. "…strange pentagram was found at all three of the crime scenes, painted with the blood of the victims." A few more images appeared of the different sites, then the story changed. "In other news, there have been so far no developments on the whereabouts of the criminals that robbed Fumihiko Bank last Thursday…"

"Bank robbing? That's kind of last century," Uryuu laughed briefly. "But I might've gone a teensy bit overboard." He admitted as his arms slumped onto the couch, causing the leopard fang around his neck to jangle.

And the head to fall off the dad he had left slumped on the couch.

"Concerning these recent crimes, an expert on criminal psychology we have consulted with said," He moved away from the television, not interested in what boring theories some bookworm might have on his works of art. Speaking of, I've still got half a bucket full of blood from those three I killed and the circle's all done, so I can decorate the walls of this bland old place.

But he hadn't killed all of the house's residents; the last one, a boy looking like he'd be in grade school, was tied up and quietly bawling in the corner. "Yo, kid," Uryuu moved over towards him, "do you think demons exist?" He only shook around on the floor. Well, he had gagged him. "Newspapers and magazines have been calling me a demon, but hey, a fully-loaded Tommy gun going off could kill more people than I could. Faster, too." By now, he was standing close enough to the kid that he could see his blood-splattered leopard shoes. "And wouldn't actual demons be offended if they were real?" Ryuunosuke shrugged. "Eh, who knows?"

"…Hiya!" He suddenly squatted down to the boy, hand raised in greeting. His victim let a muffled scream of terror. "The name's Ryuunosuke Uryuu, and I'm a demon." The "demon" looked up in contemplation. "Not sure that's the right introduction.

"But anyways, I found this old book in my family's stuff." He waved the collection of pages around so the tear-eyed boy could see it. Flipping through its pages, he explained, "I think my ancestors were trying to come up with a way to call up a demon. It took me a couple of tries," he showed the boy a page with the same pentagram-circle-thingy he had drawn on the floor with the blood of the boy's family, "but this looks about right, yeah?

"Anyways, if a demon were to show up," Uryuu sat on a wooden chair and leaned his arms on the backrest, "it'd be really dumb for me to just have a talk without giving him anything in return, right?" He grew giddy at the next part, like during some of his kills that really felt good.

"So, if the demon does pop up here," the man beamed down crazily at his latest victim, "mind if he kills you?"

The completely horrified child kicked and screamed more than ever before, desperate to escape his bindings. Laughter bubbled up from Ryuunosuke at this reaction. "Whew, what do you think it's like, being killed by a demon?" He chuckled at the struggles. "Is it quick or messy? That'll be an experience to remem-Ow!" The child stopped at the sudden sound.

Uryuu almost fell off his chair; it felt like all of his nerves were on fire for a moment, then the pain centered itself to two certain spots. "What the…?" he wondered out loud as weird red symbols slowly emerged on his hands. The one on his right was some swirls that pointed down to him, while the one on his left was a big diamond with a plus sign and a line underneath it. Huh, the killer poked the latter marking, it kinda reminds me of the number- But his thoughts ended when he noticed the light behind him.

Getting off the chair, Ryuunosuke spun around to see energy crackling across the symbol he had drawn on the floor. As the emerald static increased, a burst of smoke erupted from its center, flooding the entire room. A bemused Uryuu could only stare as a great light flashed from its epicenter. Then a heavy pressure descended upon the apartment, some kind of… strength surrounding the man and the tied boy, making them feel like they were suddenly underwater.

Two "demons" had answered his call.

The freshly minted Master's eyes widened as the newcomer facing him spoke. "I ask thee," began the pale man, high-pitched voice like he was some drama buff, tall despite hunching over, wearing robes of purple and crimson red, face looking young and without a single line, slim limbs trembling a bit, "ye that calls me, seeks me, summoning me before ye in the class of Caster, releasing this feeling of power that humbles me…" the dude opened eyes super-big and reminding Uryuu of that of a fish, "who are you?"

Ooookayyyyy… not exactly what you'd expect of a demon. Heck, aside from the weird robes, extra-long fingernails (how long did it take to grow them), fish-eyes Uryuu thought the guy looked like a normal human. But hey, he wasn't a demon expert.

"Huh? Well, I'm Ryuunosuke Uryuu." He scratched his orange hair. "I freelance with small-time jobs, and my hobby is kil-"

"What the fuck is this?" The deep snarl made Uryuu look up. Above the fish-eyed dude. Whoa.

Another man was standing right behind the first one, facing the other way, but then he turned around to look down at the others, bells ringing with the movement. He was even taller, wearing an old-fashioned black kimono and a white sleeveless haori over it, the edges all tattered and little black spots at the bottom. Plus Uryuu thought he saw a symbol in black on his back just like the one on his left hand. White socks under sandals covered his feet while a white belt was tied to hold the pants up. And keep a big-ass sword in place. The thing's handle and sheathe was wrapped up in white bandages, but it looked longer than any katana. The shirt didn't cover all that much of the guy's chest, showing some serious white muscle underneath. Kind of like one of those samurai in mangas.

And the face was sharp. Pronounced cheekbones, no eyebrows, pointed nose and chin, a seriously badass scar running over his left eye past his lip. The right eye was covered up by a black eyepatch with gold outlines, same as the thick collar around his neck. Two straps and one chain held it in place. The dude's long black hair was styled in, like, eleven spikes that pointed out the back of his head. And if he strained his eyes, Uryuu thought he could make out bells attached to all of the points. Weird hairstyle, but hey, he wore leopard-print boxers.

Besides, it was kinda hard for him to laugh at the guy with all that weird pressure weighing down on him. Everybody else in the room seemed to feel it, too, the squirt, that Caster dude, everybody except for…

Uryuu's eyes returned to the bell-spike guy who was just glancing around the room with complete boredom, the only one not looking like a filled-up swimming pool was pressing down on him. Is he doing this…? He asked himself, struggling to concentrate from the sensation. Man, it feels like somebody's got a blade up to my throat. Is this… how my victims felt before I cut 'em?

Cool.

"Hold up, you ain't the kid that beat me…" the dude mumbled in slight disappointment. He sighed. "Hair color's the same and voice sounds a bit like his, but he was stronger. Tch."

"Wh-who are you?" The Caster-guy almost whimpered, backing away from the bigger man. "Wh-what gives you the right to intrude upon m-my summoning?"

"Your summoning?" The other demon scoffed. "All I know is that I end up in this little box of a place with no light, and there's another Servant besides me here, too." The corner of his mouth twitched. "A big-eyed Caster, huh? Shame." His hand closed around the hilt at his side. "I'd have preferred a Saber or Lancer for my first fight." The atmosphere seemed to sharpen as the man's sword began to show. "Do me a favor and don't die too quickly, yeah?"

Caster's arm drifted for something underneath his robe…

"Whoa, cool sword there!" Uryuu's black eyes sparkled despite the tension. He swayed over to the bell-spike guy and eyed the weapon with the appreciation of a killer. "That is one long blade! I use kitchen knives myself, but I wouldn't mind walking around with something like that on my belt! You some kinda Oni?"

"…I've been called that from time to time," the Oni muttered, a perplexed look in his green eye. The pressure eased up slightly. "Oni, demon, monster, animal. Like I give a shit." He shrugged before noticing the markings on Uryuu's hands. "So you're the guy that summoned me, then? But what's with the extra set?"

"Extra set? Whaddaya mean, Mr. Oni?"

"The Command Seals on your arm, dumbass. And it's Berserker X, by the way."

"Oh?" Caster suddenly leaned over Uryuu's shoulder.

"H-hey, easing on the googoo look there, Mr. Demon!"

"My apologies, but I see now. Two separate sets of Command Seals?" Caster hummed in thought, tapping his chin. "Could that mean-" Then he straightened stiff as a board.

Same with the guy that called himself "Berserker X." Ryuunosuke glanced meanwhile between them in total confusion, wondering if he'd missed a step in the book or something. Guess demons and onis don't like playing around with each other. And what are Command Seals? Can I make them do stuff now?

Finally, Mr. Oni snorted. "So, we're supposed to be partners, huh?" He took away his hand from the sword and dug his pinky in his ear. "Eh, least there are more other Servants out there for me to fight."

Mr. Fisheye had also recovered from… whatever the hell they just had. "Indeed. A curious trial laid before us by God. Nevertheless, we shall prevail." He raised a hand towards the bell-spike guy. "You said you are the additional Servant of the Berserker class?" A bored grunt was his answer. The demon guy smiled. "And I am Caster. Quite the pair we make.

"And you," Uryuu blinked as those fisheyes shifted towards him, "are to be our Master?" Fisheyes nodded. "Then the contract is sealed. As I yearn for the Holy Grail, Berserker X does as well, and you as well, Master. The vessel of paradise shall soon be ours."

Mr. Oni rolled his eye. "Drama queen."

"…Holy… what?" Another blink. Right, I think that book might've mentioned something like that. Whatever. The orange-haired Master shrugged. "Eh, we can save all that stuff for later. Either of you up for a sacrifice right now?" He thumbed with a smile behind him. "I got a kid."

The Servants or whatever the demons called themselves moved in to have a closer look at the boy struggling in a futile effort to somehow survive this night. Fresh tears trickled from his already swollen eyes.

"…You shitting with me?" The spiked one replied, a disgusted look in his eye. The pressure from before began to emerge again. The boy felt like he was being slowly pressed against the floor like a fresh fruit.

He could barely make out the other one pulling something from his robe, the man that had slaughtered his family asking if it was human skin, and… something else. Then steps, and the man with big eyes was looming over him. He tried to scream for help through his gag and squirm away, but both were futile efforts. The boy shut his crying eyes as thin hands reached for him, awaiting the inevitable…

Then the sound of tearing made him open them again. "You have nothing to fear, boy," the strange man said in a reassuring tone that didn't fit at all his appearance. But he continued to undo the ropes even as the orange-haired man and the one with spikes on his head frowned.

After the last of the ropes were gone, Caster asked, "Can you stand?" The gag was gone, but he only nodded, voice yet to be recovered. His legs worked fine, though, as he quickly sprang to his feet. The man placed a spindly hand on his shoulder and pointed the other one towards the exit. "Now then, you can leave this place through that door, dear boy. You can go by yourself, yes?"

"…Y-yes…" was all he could at the moment, relief flooding through him. Caster gave another reassuring nod, prompting him to scamper past the other two men for the door.

"Hey, what're you-" the murderer of his family didn't finish the sentence and the boy couldn't care less. As he threw open the door, the hallway light blinded him for a moment. And as his eyes adjusted to the difference, there was the door to the outside, just a few feet away.

A single tear went down his cheek, but it was one of hope. He was safe.

A dark blue tentacle suddenly slipped inside his field of vision, then another, and another. His eyes widened in horror as they circled around him. A glance behind him revealed that the opposite end of the hallway was gone, only a black mass. And something… evil inside the darkness. But there was nowhere left for him to run. They were on him now.

Just before he reached the… thing, the boy shut his eyes for the last time and let out one last scream of despair-

Jingle.

That was drowned out by the sound of something wet being cut in half. And then a screech.

The poor kid stumbled away, free of the tentacles again. Slowly, his eyes turned to the left, then went up, towards the man that had called himself Berserker X and was standing right next to him. His right hand now held the sword he had been carrying at the hip, its blade chipped and worn all along its length.

But judging from the blood covering it and the two clean halves howling in agony like no human could, still serviceable.

Berserker X snapped the sword to the side to flick the blood off and clicked his tongue at the disintegrating creature. "Not even a warmup." He glanced down at the one he had just saved with a neutral expression. "Get a move on, twerp."

The boy blinked in complete shock, worried this was another trick. But the pressure from before… it didn't seem all that heavy for him right now. He could breathe again. And the large man seemed to be growing irritated by his hesitating, as a loud huff told. "Oh, for cryin' out loud," he grumbled, reaching down to snag the boy by the back of his sweater. He froze up again, frightened eyes locked on the sword in the other hand.

But it never touched him. Instead, Berserker X picked up the boy like a doll, strode down the hall and kicked the front door to tiny splinters, shoving him with surprising restraint outside. He stumbled onto the empty sidewalk, mostly unhurt, and glanced back with wide eyes. Hope was starting to spark in him again and look how that had turned out.

All he received was a sharp nod. "Beat it." Some part inside his young brain finally managed to start working again, allowing the kid to pick himself up and run away as fast as he could. Nothing and nobody else came near him again.

Ryuunosuke blinked in incomprehension at the bell-spike oni in the hall, long sword still out. One second, he was standing right behind him, watching that freaky-cool monster Fisheye had cooked up, the next, he was beside the twerp, chopping it (the monster, not the twerp) into sashimi. After another minute or so, the oni glared into the back of the room towards Caster and snarled, "You some kind of sick fuck that feeds kids to cheap-ass monsters?"

And just like that, the weird force from before returned with an extra serving, bringing Uryuu to his hands and knees. Caster himself wobbled about on his legs, clutching the cool book close to his chest. "N-now se-ee h-here, that w-" He couldn't even manage to speak right, such was the level of power inside the building. Power… and murderous intent.

"Like that freak Kurotsuchi wasn't enough of a pain in the ass…" Berserker X grumbled under his breath. "I had to go and get partnered up with a pair of sickos just like him. What a joke." He walked back into the living room, scraping the tip of his sword through the wooden floor.

…A nodachi! That's what that kind of sword was called. Ryuunosuke had been wondering about that…

Oh, right. Pissed-off guy calling himself Berserker X, massive pressure, kid still alive.

"H-hey, Mr. Oni-i, I was just t-trying to do you a favor," Uryuu tried to stress out from the crazy pressure bearing down on him. He instinctively reached for Berserker X with his left hand. "Dial this cool trick of yours do-"

The nodachi flashed again.

A second later, Ryuunosuke stared down at the diagonal stump where his left forearm used to be as it squirted blood like crazy. Wow, it's like some kind of big fountain. And that's… that's my blood, huh? Cooool… Woah. Thoughts're kinda… ffffuzzy…

"A favor, huh?" He could barely make out Bell-spike's irritated words. "Do I look like I'd get my kicks offing some kid scared as hell?" His scowl would've sent most people scrambling to get out of the building, hell out of the country. "There ain't no fun in cutting down someone as weak as that."

"Ffffunnn…?" Uryuu tilted his head quizzically. Or maybe it was due to the blood-loss and that sick trick the big man could do. Hhhhuh, Oni loooks… evn bigg'r… now…

Fisheyes was shaking like crazy now, then he opened his mouth. "Hey dare you! How dare you harm our Master that gave us our chance to lay claim to the blessed Grail, who offered us an innocent child, the opportunity to watch fresh hope become swallowed up by despair, how dare you how DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU!"

But the other monster merely looked more disgusted. "So that's how it is. Well, let me enlighten you, Caster:" the walls seemed to shudder with each word Berserker X said, "breaking a little kid isn't my idea of a good time. If I'm gonna butcher something, then it ought to be something that can butcher me, too. Where's the fun in going after something that can't fight back?"

Caster could only sputter incomprehensively, fingering his Noble Phantasm as this… beast drew closer.

"But…" the frown turned into something that sent a primal feeling of terror even in the crazed murderers before Berserker X: a feral grin stretching to either side of his face. "If you can pull out demons like that on the fly," the wooden floor underneath the big man began to crack, "then you might offer me some entertainment after all." The pressure sharpened.

Eyes far wider than usual, the Servant of Spells flipped through the pages of Prelati's Spellbook as the rictal happy Servant of Madness stepped closer, bloody sword drawn back.

Jingle.

Outside, a small handful of people were casually walking through the neighborhood, chatting with each other, checking their phones for messages, walking dogs. One or two noticed a little boy scamper past them, eyes swollen like he had been crying all day. Dogs started barking, though, and cats leaning on windowsills arched their backs, eyes darting everywhere.

Then every living creature collectively jumped, some even screaming, as the wall of the house that had borne witness to the summoning of the final two Servants for the Fourth Holy Grail War exploded in a shower of rubble. Amidst a chorus of inhuman shrieks.

---

Kariya snapped awake from a brief respite, the Crest Worms inside him writhing around in an even greater frenzy than usual. Beside him in the alley he had chosen to hunker down, Berserker stood snarling in his pitch-black armor, concealed as ever by an aura of darkness. There was also something off about his posture, staring up towards seemingly nothing.

And a part of Kariya felt it, too. His Magic Circuits weren't the best, but still, he could feel something. A tenseness, something of mana. Berserker and the Worms felt it too, this… apprehension.

A hand clapped gently down on his shoulder, causing the crippled man to look up into soft blue eyes amidst grey messy hair. "Master, is something the matter? Well," the Servant in grey robes and an old-fashioned pointy hat asked, clutching his wooden staff in the other hand, "more than usual in your case."

The Matou Master actually cracked a pained smile at the tangible humor even as his gaze travelled upwards. "…I'm fine, Caster X," he reassured perhaps the best thing that had happened to him since making that deal with the devil. "But… something is happening, isn't it?"

"Yes…" The elderly Servant stroked his gray beard. "Two great powers are clashing against one another in this city. Nowhere near us, or Berserker would have already left," they eyed the growling dark knight, "but close enough -and strong enough- that we can sense it."

---

Inside the luxurious room of the Hyatt Hotel, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald had been sipping a delectable red when he felt it as well. A sudden burst of pure mana, somewhere out in the greater city. Is it an attack? The proud scholar pondered, narrowing his eyes. No, or at least, not one targeting here… the defenses I have established throughout the building would've alerted me to any opposing mana that was approaching.

And… He suppressed a light shudder as he processed the reaction from his Magic Circuits. This felt a little too… primal. Like two beasts lunging at each other with great power. Kayneth scoffed to himself. A master magus like him would have no trouble dealing with a mad animal.

But he still grew tense when a Servant materialized next to him. "What the hell was that?" demanded a deep, artificial voice.

Lord El-Melloi breathed through his nose. "Nothing that concerns us. Just two dogs snarling at each other somewhere in this little city." He glanced at the heavy suit of black armor, but not quite that of a medieval knight. It was a little too futuristic in his eyes. And for his taste. "How is my fiancée?"

"Outside window-shopping. Pretty-boy Lancer's keeping an eye on her like you ordered." The armored spirit crossed his arms. "And we both know that crazy mana ripple was from at least one Servant. We should track it down, take it out now-"

"What you should do," Kayneth shot a glare at the orange visor where his Servant's face was, "is remember that you answer to me, familiar. Not the other way around. Now calm down. Whatever that… thing was, it likely tore itself to pieces against whatever it was fighting." He sauntered over to his chair and poured himself another glass, not even gracing the Servant with another look. "You are dismissed."

For a while, nothing happened, making the ninth patriarch of the Archibald family wonder if he would have to waste a Command Seal on disciplining the unexpected addition to his resources.

Then came an artificially deepened, but obviously sarcastic, "You're the boss." And then he felt the Servant disappear into spirit form again.

Kayneth sighed in irritation. "Of all the Servants…" He took another sip to steady himself.

---

An ordinary house that had once been home to a family of four was now half gone. Plaster crumbled from the pulverized ceiling as giant dismembered tentacles writhed in agony before fading away into nothing. Berserker X stood uninjured amidst a field of debris and blood spatter, brushing some dust off his shoulder. He scoffed at the screeching, fragmenting beings that wouldn't have looked out of place in one of those manga books he found one time about stories from some guy named Lickcroft or something.

"Like chewing bland tofu…" The big Servant flicked his sword to get the blood off again before stowing it away in his sheathe, then trudged through the remains of wood and plaster, ignoring what was left of the demons that had fallen far too quickly for his taste. His sandal kicked something meaty in front of him that caused his eye to flicker down.

A second or two passed as he glared at it, then reached down to pick it up. "Sick little bastard. Might've summoned me, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna eat some defenseless brat just so he can snack on popcorn and watch." Berserker X moved on to where the back wall had been. He stared out into the early night. "Definitely nothing like that Ichigo kid…

"And that fish-eyed fucktard sicced his pets on me before scampering off with him." The Heroic Spirit from another realm frowned. "The least he could've done was make those things strong enough to wound me, but all I've got is an earache from all their screechin'." He dug his pinky in his left ear, then sighed.

Even Berserker X knew that without a Master he wouldn't be able to stick around for all that long. And he could hear people yelling and sirens in the distance, meaning that this place was about to be hot news. With no one left to fight, there wasn't any reason for him to stay anyways. And someone would probably look out for the kid.

At least he'd learned one good thing since he'd been summoned: that there were a lot more Servants out there than in a usual Grail War. So Caster had been a total pussy. Shocker. Twelve more for him to choose from, and there ought to be one or two that could give Berserker X a decent challenge. Berserker X licked his lips and smiled at the prospect.

Shifting into spirit form, the Servant of Madness leaped from the ruined building into the night. If I don't get at least one good fight before I'm gone again, I am gonna be pissed.

Berserker X's mana perception abilities weren't the best among Servants, though. So not only would he fail to find another opponent for a while, but he also hadn't realized that Caster hadn't fled that far.

Wheezing in a particularly dark alley, Gilles de Rais braced himself with one arm against the brick wall. His Agility was nothing noteworthy among Servants, but the biggest relief was to be free of that monstrous pressure that the Berserker had radiated.

"Truly… a… Berserker," he wheezed out, a trickle of blood running down the left side of his face. "A… demon … unlistening… to reason." He pushed back some now significantly shorter hair on that side and felt that a chunk of his ear was also gone. "To think… he could… cut down… my Horrors… so… easily. If I had not chosen to flee…" the Servant glanced down at his Master, "our quests would have very well ended there."

Ryuunosuke Uryuu lay barely conscious on the dirty cement, staring up at nothing. What remained of his left arm had been bandaged up to the best of Caster's extent. He was no medic, but it ought to be sufficient to keep the "freeter" alive. Reducing his pain or replenishing the depleted blood, though, was beyond his abilities.

Yet the killer had a bright smile on his face.

Caster looked on in melancholy. "Such a beast would have been a wondrous ally to our journey for the blessed cup. I pity anyone it bares its fangs against. Such bloodlust…" he sighed, taking on a more bitter note. "Alas, the wretched God has twisted the strings of fate so that he opposes us. Ah, but worry not- Ryuunosuke, was it?"

Caster pulled out the haunted grimoire his old associate Francois had painstakingly carved and transcribed. Affable fellow, if a bit mischievous. "I have not lost my drive or loyalty to you, for your precious gift touched this weary old heart of mine. Therefore," he flicked through a certain few pages, darkness beginning to gather inside the alley and what little blood bubbling, "allow me to grant you a gift in turn. To celebrate the birth of our faction."

"C-cool…" Ryuunosuke mumbled, in good spirits despite almost out due to the blood loss. "Hheyyyy… didn't… catch… your name…"

"My name?" Caster cupped his chin even while his Noble Phantasm continued to work its unholy magics. "I believe, in this era…" a squishing and squelching noise began, but he smiled brightly nonetheless. "Yes, you may call me Bluebeard. It's a pleasure."

---

-172:38:15

Kirei Kotomine gazed out over Fuyuki City, his vantage point in Miyama Town providing an excellent view of the entire area. Buildings and streets were illuminated by multiple individual lights. The moonlight glittered across the surface of the lake, a sign that night would soon give way to day.

It should have been a pleasing, beautiful sight. But to Kirei, it meant nothing. "The Church has confirmed our suspicions," he spoke to the hidden pair behind him. "The thirteenth and fourteenth Servants, Caster and Berserker X, arrived in the night before."

"And seemed to have a disagreement." Rider X shimmered into view beside his Master, arms crossed behind his back. "That tremor of mana we all felt… it could have only come from a clash of Servants. Interesting." Something about the tone rankled Kirei a bit; a sense of pleasure that the metallic Servant was exuding. Like this unknown variable… excited him.

A black mist whirled around Assassin as he materialized as well. "Regardless, all of the Servants have now been summoned." He intoned, noticeably looking directly at Kirei and away from his "partner." "Then the time has come?"

"Yes," Kirei answered, pushing aside his unease. "Assassin, head immediately for Tohsaka mansion. Rider X will follow you from the air."

The former silently stepped towards the edge of the cliff, a subtle tremor going through his body as he passed the latter, crimson eyes narrowed at the complex below. "And once I arrive?" he asked; this part of the plan still made little sense to him.

"Regardless of their power, the house's defenses should pose no trouble for you." The priest simply stared down at his supposed target. So, this is how it begins…

Hassan chuckled at the implications. "And you're sure about this? I was under the impression that Tokiomi Tohsaka was our ally." Indeed, the instructions he had received from the empty-eyed man had confused the Servant of the Shadows. More so when the Servant of the Mount had shown no surprise or explanation. "Perhaps Rider X could simply bombard the entire building, taking them all by surprise."

Rider X's sharp teeth curled into a familiar grin, one that always made the Heroic Spirit feel a bead of sweat run alongside his skull mask. "There is a time for heavy artillery and a time for a silent blade in every war. And as you may have noticed, Assassin," he tapped his broad silver breastplate, "I am not suited for stealth."

"Besides," Kotomine interjected to nip any premature argument in the bud, "even if you confront Archer or Lancer X, you needn't have any fear, Assassin."

Assassin now stood on the edge of the cliff, wind gently blowing around him. "I needn't fear two members of the fabled knight classes?" The mission continued to perplex him.

Rider X took a heavy step forward. "I will be watching above you the entire time. Your only concern is following the plan." Steel fingers drummed against his leg. "Unless our Master summoned an Assassin incapable of stealth?"

Assassin tilted his head back. "Are you joking?"

"But of course, Assassin," Rider X sneered as he began to crouch. "On my world, I was famous for my sparkling sense of humor." Then he leaped into the air and activated his Noble Phantasm.

Kirei was still curious about the odd nature of the "X" Heroic Spirit that had answered his call for a number of reasons. As metallic shifting noises rang throughout the air, he gazed with slightly wider eyes at one of them. Most Servants of the Rider class generally had access to some kind of mount or transport. But in Rider X's case, he became the transport.

Gone was the hulking titan and in its place hovered a sleek aircraft of the same size and mass, unlike the build of any modern plane in this world. Silver and violet covered every part of its surface. Wings sharp as any sword protruded from either side while powerful engines rumbled idly, as though they waited for the moment to tear through the skies and beyond. Merely hovering caused the grass and the clothes of his onlookers to ripple from the winds generated. Underneath the spikes at the front lay twin barrels, like a fighter jet's forward guns.

"Now I suggest you get moving, Assassin," Rider X's voice could still be heard with perfect clarity despite his apparent lack of a mouth or speakers, "lest you miss your opportunity. You would then have to determine which wrath is to be feared more. Lancer X's, Archer's," indeed the current form did nothing to diminish the menacing undertone that creeped its way into the message, "or mine."

Hassan-i-Sabbah forced himself not to let his nerves show as the winds picked up with his partner's ascension. Instead of blasting off straight ahead, Rider X simply moved up in the same spot, careful not to make any more noise than necessary. Well, he's not trying to make my mission any harder, the masked Servant thought as the strange craft gradually became a dark spot in the clouded sky. Then he stepped off the cliff and dropped down towards the forest below.

Kirei too had observed the movements of the Servant of the Mount, and with a certain bit of apprehension himself. His knuckles clenched. What was it about him…?

He took a breath and released it to glance towards Assassin. "As he said, the time is now, Assassin. Kill Tokiomi Tohsaka as quickly as you can."

Regardless of the distance between them, Assassin heard the final order as though he was right next to his Master. And regardless of his confusion or uneasiness towards his partner, the Servant would carry out his orders without failure. At least that behemoth is watching my back.

He raced through the trees with a speed even most automobiles would have difficulty matching and a grace they couldn't hope to. A hand reached down to scoop up some pebbles just before he reached the edge of the forest, then once out before the Tohsaka grounds, he leaped high, flipping through the air. Five of the stones he had collected were flicked by his thumb, each one striking a red gem on a pedestal surrounded by flowers. The crystals shattered as though they had been pierced by bullets, each one releasing a burst of mana.

With no magic barrier barring his way now, Hassan landed gracefully and noiselessly inside a flower bush. Petals fluttered about him as he rose (having replenished his supply of ammunition) and stepped towards the large manor in front of him. In front of the house was another pedestal, with a larger ruby under a metallic sphere. A pebble launched bounced harmlessly against an invisible field, red static crackling from the impact.

Adorable, the Servant of the Shadows thought as he walked inside the barrier. The suspended magical shapes that comprised of the defense field couldn't be seen with his own eyes, but he felt every tremor in the air as they moved in certain intervals. He stepped, leaned, ducked, rolled and jumped to avoid any shape that neared him. Sometimes, he needed to perform a handstand or remain still as they passed by, but Hassan-i-Sabbah was a physically thin man; nothing but wind touched him. Onlookers would've likened his performance to a traditional dance.

And as he flicked out more pebbles with his right hand to disrupt the system of the shapes, Assassin felt eyes watching him from beyond the Tohsaka grounds. Like the red ones of a large crow. Familiars of the other Masters, no doubt. Well, let them watch. They surely wouldn't hinder him.

The shapes around him slowed to a crawl, allowing him to stand up. "Child's play," the Servant muttered as he reached for the jewel…

And just barely managed to pull his arm back before something green chopped it in half.

"What-?" Assassin stumbled away, eyes trying to track the spinning weapon. That's when he realized his mistake; a smaller sphere brushed into his back, discharging a large surge of energy that wouldn't kill him but still stung as hell. Assassin was forced to flip out of the way of more constructs, his movements more erratic than before. He was rattled by the unexpected attack, and that had affected his timing. Blood dripping from his arm where it had been cut, the Servant burst out of the multi-structure and landed in a crouch.

A fist surged towards his face that he barely managed to block, but the force of the blow still pushed him back toward the defenses. Assassin desperately crouched low and spun to put some distance between himself and his attacker.

A slim hand reached high to catch the weapon that had thwarted his approach, having been impossibly thrown to evade all of the barrier's revolutions. "You intrude on private grounds," A velvet female voice spoke, moonlight glinting off all three blades of the ornate projectile resting between her fingers. Then she took a step closer, allowing Assassin to see his enemy clearly underneath the moon.

She was tall, dark skin with clear muscle showing through the jade-colored robes she wore. These in turn covered most of her body, certain parts being a darker shade, as boots of the same color reached the upper parts of her legs. Golden pieces of armor that shimmered under the moon were affixed to her forearms, shoulders, underneath her impressive front, by her knees and tips of her boots, and as small claws over her fingertips. Two glowing rods sat in a holster by her right hip. Hazel eyes peered out from underneath an emerald hood and above an ornate mask of green and gold.

This was one of the Servants Tohsaka had summoned then. Her appearance matched the descriptions of his Master and partner. But what they hadn't elaborated on was her abilities. As the female collapsed the tri-blade and stowed it away, taking a pronounced slow step towards him, the Heroic Spirit of Arabian origin shuffled backwards, cradling his arm.

Where did she come from? Was she lying in wait this whole time? Assassin's thoughts raced while he tried to slowly inch towards safety. But I was paying attention the whole time! How could she have slipped past my detect- He stilled as a worrisome possibility surfaced. …Could it be?

Does she have Presence Concealment like me?

Then she was suddenly in front of him and he didn't have any time to think. Assassin sidestepped a punch and redirected a knee meant for his stomach, then his left hand shot for her throat, a knife flashing. But the female easily batted it aside and dislocated the arm with one swift jab.

Grunting in pain, Assassin planted his foot against her and kicked, widening the room between them, only for the enemy Servant to reach by her side. The next second, something green cracked against his ribs and sent him tumbling across the grass.

On all fours, the Servant could see even through a fog of pain his opponent gracefully twirling a long bo staff of radiant jade. She spun it once more and slammed it against the ground, causing a light tremor. This was her Noble Phantasm, then, the symbol of her class. Lancer X.

"Surrender," the Servant of the Spear intoned, "and your death may be a quick one."

"Neither idea appeals to me," Hassan shot back, throwing a spread of pebbles right at her. Even as she spun the staff in front of her, turning it into a circle of green that reduced the projectiles to rock powder, he leaped simultaneously to the right, forcing his left arm back in place while its hand still clutched the knife.

It wasn't enough. Lancer X's whole body whirled clockwise before he could reach her, then the left leg struck his back while the staff smacked his jaw at the exact same time. For a moment, the Servant thought he would snap in half from the dual blows, then the green just below his eyes catapulted his spiraling body right into the barrier he had so deftly maneuvered through. A cry escaped his lips as crimson static seared his back, and he collapsed back on all fours in front of Lancer X. "And now?"

Assassin panted through his cracked Hassan mask. He knew it, he didn't have a prayer of a chance against her in an open battle. She was stronger, tougher, he couldn't even outmaneuver her in speed or flexibility. And he had no clue if that damnable pole had some secret power. Probably, it had to be her Noble Phantasm. The result of the battle had been obvious from the start.

Which was why he shouldn't have had to engage her in battle. Presence Concealment diminished in effectiveness once the Servant using it made for an attack, and neither was even trying to hide their presence anymore. So where are you, Rider X?!

Grumbling to himself about his partner's posturing, Assassin tried to push himself off his hands, but he heard something break the magical construct behind him. About time-

A golden spear ripped through his shoulder and nailed him to the ground. "Do not waste time with this worm, Lancer X," a new voice spoke over Assassin's pained groans. "This bout bores me." He could barely move his head back to see who had thrown the spear. W-wait. I-I thought I w-was fffighting Lancer eh-X already. Sssso who…

"Others are watching, Archer," the female replied evenly as her stance relaxed. "I wished to test his strength and see if a partner would intervene to save his life." She walked to Assassin's side, eyeing his futile struggles. "It seems he came here alone."

N-no! I didn't! Rider X, where are you, didn't you say you'd be watching?! I'm being massacred, and you still don't- Assassin made to scream out his thoughts, but a golden sword slashed his throat, silencing him, and went through his forearm.

"I care not if one or two worms writhe about in the dirt," that voice from before sneered, haughty and merciless. As Assassin tried to look up, weak voices coming from his now useless mouth, more weapons rained down upon him. Swords, spears, halberds, no two of them appeared to be of the same build, but they all tore through his flesh effortlessly. Shockwaves erupted from the ground where those weapons that didn't hit him landed; even Lancer X needed to flip out of range lest she become a casualty.

There was no way… no way to win… no way to survive… not against Lancer X… and certainly not… against… Archer.

"Who gave you pardon to gaze upon me?" The Servant stood arms proudly crossed in front of his chest atop the roof of the mansion where Assassin's target lay. Golden armor adorned every part of his body except for his head while a tailing red cloak hung from the waist. Blonde hair slicked back, piercing crimson eyes that glared imperiously down at him, like he was even less than worm. And behind him, the entire sky blotted out by rows and rows of golden circular portals. Each housing a weapon.

He said… he'd… be… watching… me. Assassin's dying thoughts stoked what was left of his fire. He… said I… needn't… fear. Needn't… fear… THAT?! Had his Master and partner lied to him? His mind cursed them in every tongue he knew-

A jeweled sword went through his head, knocking loose his damaged mask, the symbol of the Old Man of the Mountain.

The dying Servant barely managed to see a faint bow of Lancer X's head, a parting due to her doomed opponent, and Archer's dispassionate words from above. "You lack the right to gaze upon me. "Lowly creatures that they are, worms always face the ground when death comes for them."

A strange sound, like one of those airplanes, rumbled through the night.

…He understood now. Neither had lied to him. Rider X had said that he would watch over Assassin, but never made any mention that he would aid him. And Kirei was right to say that he needn't fear either Lancer X or Archer. The former had beat him down without malice or sadism, a simple act of duty. And then she showed him a final grace upon death. As a fellow Servant, she in turn had his respect.

And the gap between him and the latter was so great that fear was not the appropriate response. Only despair.

And as he barely registered the many eyes of the familiars watching his slaughter, Zayd the Base finally understood his true part in the plan.

---

Aaaand I've managed to carve out in this chapter a scene for every standard "X" Servant summoned in this little story. Booyah! Longest chapter I've ever written to date, though. And, admittedly, some of the intros are considerably shorter than others, but rest assured, I have every intention of giving each one a fair bit of time in the limelight.

Now then, onto the traditional stats for our guests. One "X" Servant per chapter, plus I'll post an additional chapter with all Servants and their full capabilities. Please note that certain Noble Phantasms are deliberately obscured, as they have yet to appear in the story itself.

And those who can guess who the as-yet unnamed "X" Servants are and what they can really do, good work. Have a digital donut on me ;-).

(Special thanks to Lord Mist, author of "Infinite Paths" for inspiring me with this Servant's stats. I've been given permission to use his version including a few personal adjustments to balance the character better. Ergo, it's not an exact copy.)

---

Assassin X-

Class: Assassin

Master: Kiritsugu Emiya

True Name: Kakashi Hatake

Titles: Copy Ninja, Man of One Thousand Techniques

Sex: Male

Source: Naruto

Region: Konohagakure

Alignment: Lawful Good

Strength: C

Endurance: C

Agility: B+

Mana: B

Luck: C

NP: A+

Class Skills-

Presence Concealment: The capacity to hide one's presence as a Servant. It is a common skill to the Assassin class.

A+: Assassin X is extremely difficult, if not impossible to sense. Assassin X has been trained to assassinate people and carry out missions stealthily ever since he was four years old.

Personal Skills-

Jutsu: A Skill which originates from an alternate world, where the shinobi can harness their inner energy (chakra) to perform feats similar to magic spells or curses. Special handsigns are required for more complex abilities, but not mandatory for all.

A: Assassin X is practically a walking library of jutsu. Thanks to Sharingan and his own prodigious mind, he is well-versed in all variations: ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu, nature transformation of all five elements (with a natural affinity for lightning), summoning of a ninja-hound pack he trained since they were pups and formed a special contract with. The only true limitations are those techniques which require specific bloodline traits to perform and his own relatively average Mana reserves which limit the number of high-level jutsu he can perform. Assassin X compensates for the latter drawback with creative and carefully considered use of his resources.

Expert of Many Specializations: Access to and expert use of many Skills.

A+: Assassin X was known as "the Copy Ninja" in his lifetime due to his ability to successfully imitate techniques across a wide variety of styles and forms. He is said to know more than one thousand techniques and is at least a B-rank expert in all forms of combat- physical, ninjutsu, illusions, tracking, trap-making, etc. He is also a first-rate teacher.

For One's Comrades: Rank-up in stats when fighting to save or protect one's comrades.

B: Assassin X's philosophy in life has always been that "those who abandon the mission are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are lower than trash," having learned it from a fallen comrade. Despite slight diminishment of this Skill's rank due to his current Master's mentality, all stats besides Luck increase by one rank whenever Assassin X moves to defend a comrade.

Noble Phantasms-

?: B+ (Anti-Unit)

Sharingan: "A Gift from a Fallen Brother": A (Mystic Eye): Assassin X's left eye has been replaced by the Sharingan, a bloodline limit unique to his closest friend. Assassin X obtained his eye when his friend was on his deathbed on a mission. Among its many boons, it allows Assassin X to predict the movements of his opponents, and to see into the future to a limited extent. It also allows him to copy the physical techniques of his enemies, save for a limited few. Though technically of the Mystic Eye skill, Assassin X was not born with Sharingan. The unique way he obtained it and how it has added to his legend increases its nature to that of a Noble Phantasm. Since he was not born with this optical power, however, Assassin X's body lacks the stamina to use it eternally, hence his covering the eye with his headband to avoid unnecessary mana loss. It holds a second form called Mangekyo Sharingan.

?: A+ (Anti-Unit)