He looked to the sky, greeted by gears, turning in an everlasting loop, swords lined the ground as far as the eye could see into the horizon. The Ashen Swordsman stood, his cloak blowing in the wind as he trudges up a sand dune, staring into the distance before he sits behind, leaning on his Archer's back. Finally, after several moments, EMIYA began to speak.

"You alright, Junko?"

The Archer said his first name with an air of cautious familiarity, not that the man minded, in his eyes, his Servants, and especially so for Archer, were some of his dearest friends, he returned, "Honestly, EMIYA? Not too sure, it's only been a week and yet I can't help but get this terrible feeling, like something bad is coming."

"Master, you concern me with how much you worry." The Archer continued his point, "You really should quit worrying, or at least calm your mind. Do not be afraid of losing yourself, be afraid of not regaining control."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, allow yourself to relax. Winding yourself up like you have been isn't healthy in a usual situation, but yours is even worse. Take a rest. You've been training yourself too hard, and now you're worrying over losing your mind, it just isn't helping. Blow off some steam, take a walk."

"Since when are you a therapist?" The Swordsman snarked back, "You shouldn't have to be…"

"Since I could read your thoughts, Master, we're more connected than most Magi seem to realize. What I saw wasn't good." The Archer stood, his cape flying in the wind. "Now, wake up and I'll cook you breakfast, you seem like you need some food."

"Thank you, Archer." Junko finished simply, standing up as well, leaning into the man's back.

"Of course, it's part of the job, Master." Archer replied, and Junko snapped awake, the form of the Archer appearing at his bedside. Even in his groggy state, the Mage inherently knew a foreign magical signature when he felt one, his sword and armor already on and in his grip as he slipped out the window, hopping off the windowsill like a cat.

"Master?" Beowulf threw a thought his way, "Wherever you're going, count me in."

"Fine, Archer, come with, let's deal with this mage and get back quickly. I need ranged back up."

"Understood, at your back."

Junko relished hunting people down, something about the process just gave him a rush, he scanned the area, spotting a man clearly out of place in such an area, wandering about through the footpath dotted with lamps. As he passed under one, his clothes shone, covered in fresh blood, pausing under the light.

"Not a mage…" he breathed, the man turning to face him with a sadistic smile, rushing at him with inhuman speed, baring scarlet covered fangs before a small, red-handled sword pierced the man's chest, stopping him in his tracks. "A fucking Dead Apostle," he finished, lighting the corpse of the magical vampire as the sun rose, the burning corpse dissolving into ash in the light. Junko turned, looking around for any other threats, confirmed by Archer, "Nothing else is in the area, we're safe for the moment."

Junko nodded, rushing back to his dorm and leaping back up to his window, greeted by the annoyed visage of Noroi, his rainbow irised eyes shimmering in the still low light of the sunrise, clearly frowning even as Junko found him hard to see. He swung up and into the room, his voice grave.

"Spotted a Dead Apostle, went to deal with it."

Noroi's eyebrows rose in surprise, "And did you?"

"Yeah," Junko spoke again, "Black Key through his heart, burned the corpse for good measure."

Black Keys were sacraments of the Holy Church, a sect of "mages" (though they hate to be called such, seeing typical Magecraft as heresy) that hunt down monster and mage alike, oftentimes, the short-handled swords were thrown like knives and especially effective against creatures like the Dead Apostles. Junko summoned one, the silver-black blade shimmering, light reflecting in the room and returning to normal as the sword is dispelled.

"What time is it?" The Watcher of the Holy City asked, to which the Hero of Humanity replied, "Close enough to not sleep, and not quite time for our class yet."

"What class is that?" Junko retorted, yawning tiredly, "Please be an easy one…"

"If you consider sparring easy, which for you, is practically a cakewalk." Jacob yawned, stretching as the second pair rose in preparation for the day. As the others donned their blazers, Junko looked at his, grimacing.

"I have to, don't I?"

"Afraid so, my friend." Ewan placed a hand on Junko's shoulder as the man dissolved his armor and took his blazer into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later, wrapping his cloak around it with a grimace, pulling the hood over his face and following the rest of his team, his expression (or what they could see of it,) obviously souring by the moment. They entered Combat Class, as it was called, sitting down in a mostly deserted corner as Professor Goodwitch called up the first few students; the appointed pair strode up all confidence, as the Crypters knew, even trained fighters were prone to such, and so they watched with hardly any interest, although Jacob shifted, his eyes locking on an auburn haired youth, shoving past others to sit next to Jaune, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing just a bit too much to be friendly.

It was stopped when Goodwitch called the next names.

"Mr. Arc, Mr Winchester? You two come up and spar. Now, would you?"

Both came up, Jaune looking rather nervous, Cardin smirking as he hefted a mace. Jaune drew his sword, gripping it two-handed…

The blonde went down like a sack of rocks for the last time and struggled to stand as the asshole, Winchester stood over him sneering. Jacob stood up and leapt over the seats, climbing on the platform with ease, and helping the blonde back to his seat. As he went to return to his seat, the Professor interrupted him,

"Mr. Landark, while the sentiment of helping your fellow students is appreciated, allow them to return to their own seats."

Jacob barely glanced up responding rather venomously, "Then please allow me to spar with Winchester, Professor." His annoyance with the preceding fight was boiling over and he glared steadily at the mace-wielding bully. Goodwitch narrowed her eyes, "As you wish, Mr. Landark. Be my guest."

Jacob swung up onto the stage once more, vaguely noting the presence of Li Shuwen in the crowd, occupying his seat and keeping his gaze intently on Jacob. Winchester hefted his mace onto his shoulder as the buzzer rang, rushing forward. His mace came down and swung for Jacob's face as the Crypter dropped into a plank, swinging around and sending the heavy-set teen stumbling back with a hard roundhouse. Rising back up, Jacob leapt forward, batting aside another mace swing like it was a particularly annoying fly, sending the mace skittering away. Jacob stepped forward, shifting to the side at the last moment as he slammed a Prana-boosted elbow into the bully's chin, feeling the bone give way from the force of the blow. Cardin flew across the arena as the buzzer sounded again, leaving Jacob to glare at the mace wielder, throwing him back his weapon and promptly returning to his seat.

Goodwitch was slightly shaken as she called, "That would appear to be the match. Mr. Winchester, you cannot simply rely on brute strength in battle. Ending a fight quickly and disregarding defense are two different things. Keep that in mind. Mr. Landark, as much as I understand frustration with Mr. Winchester, you must pull your strikes, this is only a spar." Jacob sighed, murmuring, "That wasn't even a full power strike."

The bell rung and the students were let out for lunch, the Crypters following behind Team JNPR, just in case anything happened, Goodwitch gathered her own things, her thoughts buzzing around her mind,

"What was that technique, nothing they teach within any of the Academies… and that flash of blue, a Semblance?"

She began to walk toward Ozpin's office, she needed answers.

Junko sat by Noroi and began to nurse a cup of coffee, as he took the first sip however, he heard a yelp of pain and turned to see Cardin, obviously healed from earlier, yanking on a literal bunny girl's ears. He stood up, moving closer to CRDL's table. "What exactly is she?" He asked, and the bully turned, "Don't you know, she's an animal, a damned Faunus. And what's with you, with your dirty, ripped sheet on your head?"

Junko grinned under his cloak, allowing Cardin to catch a glimpse of his eye, burning orange with barely restrained rage as the bully felt a grip on his head, his grip slackening from Velvet's ears. Junko's grin widened as he said his next word.

"Jackpot!"

Cardin flew across the room at near neck-breaking speed, going face first into a table, bouncing from the speed and skipping over it like a human-shaped rock, slamming back first into the opposite wall at least a hundred yards off from where he'd been sitting before. Junko just whistled in the absolute dead silence of the room, the form of Lancelot stood at his shoulder, arm still extended from using Cardin as a shot put as he faded away into Spirit Form.

"Who knew? The dickhead can fly." He laughed to himself, nodding to Velvet and returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.

"Do you want to explain why a random armored man threw one of our students 150 yards into a wall?!" Goodwitch raged at the Crypters, face red and murderous fury in her eyes. Ozpin, by contrast was much more calm, if within the same train of thought.

"He pissed me off." Junko replied, his hood back to covering his face, Jacob continued, "And he's been bullying plenty of students, Jaune Arc comes to mind, as well as being racist." He muttered, "You'd think a headmaster would do something about that. We were kings and even we did something."

"I'm sorry?" Ozpin interrupted, "You said you were kings? All of you?"

"At one point in time." Noroi said bluntly, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, this was the first day, the first. Day. The Hero of Humanity sighed in exasperation, "We were kings of our Lostbelts. We ruled them, lived in them, and protected them. As I recall, Junko had a rather violent policy regarding invaders…"

"Despite that, unsanctioned attacks are still unsanctioned, Mr. Kanshu. You'll be required to train Mr. Arc, all of you. From what I am told, his combat skills leave something to be desired."

"I see. As you wish, Headmaster."

So now there they were on the roof, JNPR and RKLN stood in a drawn circle, courtesy of Junko, who maintained that he needed it for later, for what end, none of them really knew. But it came down to him and Jaune within the circle, him unarmed, with Jaune having blade and shield.

"First lesson, a rather simple one. When to block and when to dodge. What should you do if an opponent launches a punch at you?"

"Uhm… block?" Jaune offered helpfully

"Oh how wonderful! You can respond!" Archer called, sitting on the ledge above the door to the roof. "Cool the snark, he's learning!" Jacob retorted.

"Back to the matter at hand, now, if I were to swing my sword at you," he drew the blade at that, "What should you do?"

Jaune readied himself, "I would dodge." "Right. Now, put it into practice," Junko finished.

He lunged forward with an overhead, which Jaune blocked, seemingly from muscle memory, the Crypter paused, stared at Jaune, and waited for him to catch on, his small "oh" was all he managed before receiving a kick to the chest. "Dodge, you say?" He mocked, "Didn't seem like much of a dodge to me."

Jaune growled and lunged forward, right into Junko's knifepoint as he stopped him short.

"Blind anger is only good when you're alone against a force. One on one, and especially so with your team, your rage will endanger you, and your friends. Block light strikes, dodge heavy strikes." He stepped back, allowing Jaune to recover and ready himself.

"When I call a move, you call the retort, Dodge, Block. Got it?"

Jaune nodded.

"Overhead slash!" Junko called, and Jaune returned, "Dodge!"

"Punch!"

"Block!"

The back-and-forth continued for a while, Junko kept coming until Jaune swayed on his feet, pausing as he shook.

"Take a breath, but keep in mind, don't ever get this tired in a duel, you'll end up killed. With that said, I'm turning you over to Jacob over there.

"Alright, kid. Junko's taught you to dodge, time for you to learn your natural weapons. Pass off your sword and shield." Jaune did so, returning to the circle, fists raised. Jacob raised an eyebrow. "What? Already going in for an attack? C'mon then, don't chicken out!" The Forgotten Savior called as the blonde rushed him down with a fierce hook, Jacob sidestepped, allowing the fist to sail over him as Jaune overextended. He would've tumbled to the ground if not for Pyrrha, gently pushing him back up. The blonde rose up, going for another swing toward Jacob's head, which the man caught and twisted back, throwing the boy down. He got up and they continued until the sun began to set over the treeline.

Ewan, the last one to train Jaune for the day, clapped him on the shoulder, "C'mon lad. I'll get you a drink, eh?"

Jaune nodded listlessly, groaning at the soreness in his limbs, PNR following behind, along with Jacob, leaving Junko and Noroi alone.

"Go ahead, I got someone to see, Noroi." He said, dispelling his armor, leaving his cloak to blow in the light wind brushing the rooftop, his friend sighed and muttered, "How many Servants is that, Junko? You're going to kill yourself at this rate."

"Haven't died yet, not gonna die soon either. My Circuits will take it. Go on."

"As you wish." Noroi turned and began to retreat down the stairs, wordlessly passing a crouched and hidden Ruby. He saw her of course, but elected to remain silent. Ruby peeked out as Noroi passed, looking out onto the roof as the circle began to glow, and Junko began to chant.

Ruby watched the members of Team JNPR start to return to their dorm, to be precise, Nora rushing back to the door to open it for Jaune. She zipped past her, reaching the stairs as she peeked at Junko and Noroi, Perplexed, she murmured, "What… is that? The floor is glowing,"

She eeped as her eyes met Noroi's as he descended the stairs. His eyes seemed to say, "Remain wary, Huntress." He said nothing, simply continued to keep her gaze, before he continued down the steps. Rather shaken, she returned to looking out at Junko, as he did… something.

"Let blood and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation." He called, the circle beginning to shimmer and glow, his Command Seal glimmering in the light.

"Let Ash be the color you follow. Let our enemies be razed into nothing but dust. Let the four cardinal gates close." A quartet of pillars burst into life, shining red and humming with energy, a shockwave ruffling the Huntresses cloak, bearing down on her chest as it stole her breath.

"Let the contract be declared here, your flesh shall serve under mine, and my fate will lie with your blade.

Ashes to Ashes, unto my dying breath. I call upon your power, Servant Assassin!"

The pillars of light converged and exploded, flaring gold in the night, before the shining beam faded, replaced by a cloaked man, standing in the middle of the circle, clutching a knife. Ruby surged up the steps, ready to defend the Crypter, but rather than attack him, the man turned to her, lunging forward and slamming her against the wall, his blade raised to her throat, a pair of grey eyes glaring at her as the knife was pressed against her tensed skin.

She thought she was saved when Miss Goodwitch showed up, before her cheer died in her throat as the woman was swiftly kicked in the stomach and held at gunpoint.

"Such a pain… Say the word, and these fools will be on their way to the afterlife with haste, Master."

Junko had fallen to his knees, grimacing as his Magic Circuits, the instrument used by mages to do their work, burned like acid through his body. He felt Archer pull him up and he choked out a vague approximation of the phrase, "Stand down, Assassin."

The man turned, "I'm sorry, you'll have to repeat whatever it is you said, I couldn't make out what it was."

Junko rasped in return, coughing, "Stand down, they aren't going to hurt me, Assassin."

Assassin looked unconvinced, but tossed Ruby to Goodwitch, helping his Master up. "Forgive the strain of my summoning, Master." He murmured, shouldering the Crypter and passing him off to Archer, who heaped him over his shoulders and begins to rush off to his dorm, the Assassin following behind.

Junko lay in bed, the burning in his limbs fading to a dull ache as Archer glared down at him, seething with annoyance and rage. His damnable Master had gone and put more strain on his body and mind, after all he had said!

"Master, do you have an arrow lodged in the part of your brain that allows for critical thinking? Because it certainly seems that way!" He barked, his expression twisted into an angry snarl. "By every god in creation, are you that damned DAFT?! Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Junko grimaced and attempted to push himself up onto his elbows, before EMIYA's dad reflex kicked in and he pushed him back down, placing a hand on his chest and sending a burst of Mana through the extremity, slowly easing his Master's pain. The Archer sat opposite his Master's bed, sighing in relief.

"Master, I wish you would quit your death-defying, it's only a matter of time until it catches up to you." Junko nodded limply, once more trying to rise, only to be gently pushed back down, "Rest." Archer admonished, "You need sleep and food. You aren't leaving the bed until you're rested and fed."

With his rules, Archer disappeared into Spiritron Particles, leaving Junko alone with Assassin. The hooded man regards him with mild concern, as if to say, "You can die later, not now."

"That Archer… seems familiar somehow." He finally said, "It's like I know him, and yet no memory of him exists within my mind…"

"You're Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer." Junko retorted, "He is your son. The Iron-Wrought Hero, Shirou Emiya. That's why."

Assassin nodded and sat by his Master's side. "You know me, then?" He asked, Junko nodded in return, "Vaguely, well enough in any event, you're a legend among Magi, legend or boogeyman, depending on perspective." Assassin nodded slowly and drew back his hood, unwinding the bindings around his face as he next spoke, "I suppose these are not needed then, nor is my hiding my True Name. EMIYA Kiritsugu, at your service, Master."

Archer returned then, a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup held in his hands, he strode to Junko's bedside, propping him up and beginning to spoon the soup into his mouth, Junko attempted to protest, whining, "I can do it myself, Archer!" to which the Servant just deadpanned, "No. You can't do it yourself, you can barely raise your arms."

To prove his point, EMIYA lifted his Master's arm, allowing it to fall to the mattress, unable to rise more than a few inches. Point taken, Junko accepted the soup with mild grumbling, but allowed EMIYA to finish feeding him the soup, gently pushing his head onto the pillow.

"Now sleep. You overwork way too much."

"Tell me a story?" Junko asked drowsily, "What about yours?"

"Perhaps… another time, Master. Allow me to tell you the story of a wonderful king, of course, this doesn't mean she didn't have her flaws-"

Assassin sat listening, his blade sheathed next to his prized Thompson Contender, until eventually, he began to doze as well.

Once Archer finished, he looked up at his Master, and his father from sometime else, and smiled softly, taking Sigurd's offered mantle and laying it over Kiritsugu's shoulders, resuming his position leaning on the wall by his Master's bed as the sun fully faded from the sky, leaving the world cast in a comforting midnight blue. He stared at the sky, gazing over the countless stars of the endless expanse of inky darkness, feeling a shiver run down his back before he faded from view, leaving the room empty in the cool dark.