Howdy all, again. The second-year anniversary is coming up and with this chapter, we're almost certain to reach two hundred thousand views!

It's quite a milestone, and I'm thankful for you all for helping me reach this point. Hopefully we'll also be able to hit 1000 followers, but that seems far too ambitious considering how slow they've been trickling in.

I doubt those readers will see this, but those in the reviews who considered Reines' death "tasteless" or for pure "shock value" seem to misunderstand what Fate and the Holy Grail War really are. No life in a Grail War is sacred and that scene reinforced just how easy it is for life to slip away when unprepared or outmatched - heh heh heh.

Remember to thank Talndir again for providing quality beta work, I hope you enjoy :)


Smoke, stone dust and the scent of smouldering wood filled her lungs and brought on a coughing fit. The haze of various gases was too much to see through but she knew well enough that the church was destroyed.

Berserker had unleashed some powerful beam from his blade toward the front entrance. The bounded field she established within the church meant he could sense the servants' approach but they couldn't sense him. He wanted to end the battle before it even began, but one of them was fast enough to sense the danger as the doors opened.

She knew he was powerful, she knew he was likely to be the strongest servant in the entire War. She didn't know he had access to an anti-fortress noble phantasm.

The blade he wielded was blatantly powerful, she had assumed that it was his phantasm and that there was some sort of innate ability held within that offered demonic strength.

She had been absolutely wrong. The sword offered him no passive benefit. It was merely a conduit for his true power, the noble phantasm locked within.

It was a struggle to rise to her feet. The days of malnutrition, immobility and dehydration had weakened her to start. The unbreathable gases taking oxygen's place in her lungs were only exacerbating the effect to enfeeble her.

It was pitiful, truly. At one point she had been a martial artist and while not the top of her class, she could easily take down men three or four times her size. Now, she would be lucky to fend off an attack from a chihuahua, if even that.

Stumbling down the center aisle toward the gaping hole that was the front of the church. Using pews to support herself, it was a long limping struggle until she could start breathing fresh air.

Landing on her knees outside the rubble of the church, she took deep lungfuls of fresh clean air and recovered a marginal amount of energy, enough to stand on her own power.

On her feet, she could witness the one-sided battle taking place within her own sanctuary. There were five people and her own servant. Being the mediator of the War meant she was familiar with the appearances of the servants and masters both. She had an unfair advantage in terms of outright knowledge.

Two of the attackers were servants, Caster and Rider. The remaining three were masters, but she could only see one, Caster's master, clearly and she could hardly believe what she was seeing. She was taking Berserker on head-to-head with her hands.

Was she stupid or suicidal? Both? A mere human going up against such a monster would need to be one or the other at least. Either that, or they were a monster themselves. Trying to watch the battle, the only thing her eyes could see were blurs of crimson and bright flashes at the weapon met opposing magecraft.

Caster's master wasn't directly blocking or countering Berserker's attacks, she was deflecting and altering the trajectory with brutish strikes against its flat surface. How she had the reactions or speed to even accomplish such a feat was astonishing and a testament to her experience in battle.

While Caren carefully maneuvered herself down the steps closer to the battle, Rider darted in to flank Berserker. Fighting a servant and an experienced master on either side, he was forced to relinquish one hand on his blade. Even without using his weapon, he was able to deflect and counter Rider's blows with the armour plating of his outfit.

More impressive was his ability to do such a thing without even looking at the foe behind him. Surveying the battle as a spectator, Caren wondered why Caster had taken a spectator role matching her own. He wasn't firing off any attacks; he was moving around the sidelines seemingly with no intention of fighting. It was curious, why did he seem to be moving around in a circle?

It didn't make sense. Why would masters accompany their servants into battle so foolishly? Putting themselves, the most vulnerable pawn, at the front lines would result in a rapid demise unless they intended, and could, fight a servant themselves.

Realizing she was a weak pawn herself, the girl took a low position behind the top half of the front door statue. What was the reason to have so many people if they weren't going to fight?

As the question arose, deep violet figures began shifting at the edges of her vision. They had come out of nowhere, at least she thought at first. Looking closer, she could see they were forming from puddles sporadically placed on the ground. Rising from these inconspicuous blotches were humanoid figures of various shapes and sizes. Some wielded a multitude of weaponry, some had appendages designed to be used as weapons, all of them crackled as if charged with electricity.

Several of the figures even arose from around her hiding place but none seemed to pay her mind, even when they were blatantly staring at her. They had a single goal in mind and with reckless abandon, they charged the insane servant with weapons primed.

More than a dozen humanoid combatants encircled Berseker and with no sense of tactics or combat prowess, they swung weapons haphazardly in an attempt at making contact.

Rider took a leap back and her space was filled by three figures. Re-evaluating the situation, Berserker made a wild swing at Caster's master, forcing her to leap backwards out of range. Halfway through, the man directed his blade into the cobblestone path and grabbed onto the lowest part of the handle with his free hand.

A twist of the wrist unlatched the pommel which happened to be another blade. Wielding a weapon in each hand, the servant became an untraceable blur. Caren's eyes couldn't even comprehend how he was moving, but the darkened figures that had once been swarming him were being chopped to pieces like wheat to a scythe. None of the assailants even managed to make a single swing before perishing.

When the last of the figures collapsed to the cold stone ground with an electric crackle, the servant stopped and stood upright. Releasing a slow, audible breath, a cloud of steam billowed from the front of his mask.

He was a dragon in all senses of the word, truly. The power, the ferocity, the aura. It was demoralizing even for her and she was his master. Mastery of Berserker was nothing more than a formality. She was an enemy to him as much as those he was attacking. Viewing the battle as an enemy, it made her wonder why her servant had taken the time to kill the faceless figures at all. If he was certain the figures couldn't damage him, he wouldn't have wasted the energy. If she were in control, the waves of magic figures wouldn't have ended so quickly.

With a huff, Rider extended her hands outward. "It looks like I'll have to borrow some firepower from one of my lovers. Come now, My Dear Rainbow Sword!" With a splash of rainbow light, a green, drill-like weapon formed within her hands. It was easily the servant's own height in length and it appeared impossibly heavy, especially for a girl her size.

As if cementing its place in reality, the drill-sword span wildly while the girl executed a clumsy flourish. Caren couldn't say she knew anything about swordplay, but she could clearly tell that Rider was a novice with such a weapon.

The mad servant made a small huff and looked over his shoulder at the servant now wielding a sword. "Your parlour tricks won't work when the victim knows the technique." His left arm, the one holding the pommel-dagger shot straight out. A streak of crimson split the night to strike Caster in the knee, producing a bone-crunching noise as it passed straight through into the ground below.

Caster made a sharp, singular cry in pain and his body drifted to the weak side. Using his staff he remained upright, but it was obvious his movement was destroyed. Berserker had made such an accurate throw without even looking, did he know Caster's position while he circled the entire time?

"You might know of one technique but that doesn't mean you know them all!" The voice was unfamiliar, but still, Caren recognized it from somewhere. Berserker faced forward and something glimmering in the night caught his eye.

With unnatural dexterity, the servant reared his sword up to slash the projectile out of the air in an upward slash. From such a distance in the dark Caren couldn't see what it was, but as his blade passed through a flash brighter than daylight stabbed at her eyes. Delayed by a mere instant was a wave of sound and pressure that sent an intense ringing in her ears and blew her hair back.

Blinking and rubbing at her eyes frantically to clear the daze, her vision returned to find her servant doing the same. Rider took a step forward to attack but Berserker neglected to panic long enough for her to make it any further.

Spinning around to face her perfectly, the mad servant rushed forward with the speed of a demented beast. Slamming into the unprepared girl shoulder first, one of the metal protrusions pierced a part on her body and sent her off her feet.

Caren couldn't watch any longer. Not because she was scared or disturbed, but because he was coming straight toward her hiding spot and had no intention of stopping. With a smidge of panic, the girl rose and quickly ran back toward the church as the entwined pair slammed into the toppled statue.

Halfway up the stairs a female voice clearly made it above the clamour. "Over there, that must be his master!"

Fear edged its way into her mind. The enemy had spotted her and after seeing how powerful Berserker was, they were likely looking for an easier option. What they didn't know was that Berserker was totally independent of her. He was powering himself and she was nothing more than a formality.

Would she be able to convince them of that? Would they believe something so unbelievable? The chances weren't good.

Stumbling over the rubble of the front entrance, she forged a path deeper into the church on memory alone, aiming to enter the basement where there were several hiding places she could disappear into.

It was a mad scramble through the desecrated church and with her life on the line Caren couldn't waste time being cautious. Nearly tripping twice in the dim light and smokey conditions, Caren found the stairs leading to the lower level and practically threw herself down them. Stumbling at the bottom step, she tripped and landed on her stomach on the floor of the basement. Forcing herself up off her face, something caught her by the collar and hoisted her off the ground entirely. In a dizzying, weightless spin she was thrown like a toy across the basement only to slam back-first into a wall.

Thankfully nothing was broken, but the wind had been knocked out of her from the impact. Gasping for air, she tried to identify her attacker.

It was a woman, one she did, in fact, recognize: Rider's master, Luviagelita Edelfelt. There was a brief moment where Caren wondered how such a slim-looking woman could pick her up and throw her across the room but her mind shifted to focus on preserving her own life.

Lifting her hands in surrender and coughing out a weak attempt at slowing the woman down, Caren tried to gather enough oxygen to talk properly. "It won't — work!"

With all the grace of a silverback gorilla, the blonde hoisted her up off the ground, threw her against the wall and forced her to sit on the floor. "What won't work? Severing the contract between servant and master will finish this fight before one of us gets hurt."

Caren shook her head, both to deny the woman's claim and clear the blurriness from her eyes. Taking a sharp, deep breath to realign her diaphragm, her voice also returned to her. "Berserker is out of my— no, he's out of anyone's control."

Lifting her right arm, she drew back the sleeve of her robe to show the sleeve of command seals gifted to her by her departed grandfather. Three of those which were closest to her wrist were patchy and incomplete, showcasing their use. "I knew you were coming, I tried to stop him."

She hadn't done anything of the sort, but a white lie to save her own life could be forgiven. As if smelling the deceit, Luviagelita's nose and brow furrowed in suspicion. "Why would you try to stop him from killing us if you're a master?"

"I didn't want to damage my home," the priestess huffed. Showing an ounce of belief, the Edelfelt released her grip, letting Caren sit on the floor.

"Prove it, command your servant to stop fighting and let us kill him." Hesitantly, Caren nodded softly and pulled her robe back further. She had dozens of command seals from masters passed. Even if she didn't die before the next Grail War, she would never be able to use them all. Sparing one for her life was a pittance.

Calling to the crystallized magic, crimson light bathed the room from every symbol. "I order you, Berserker, stand still and allow yourself to be defeated by Rider and Caster's hands."

A flash of light, a high pitched noise, the order was made. Caren was stuck waiting, hoping Rider's master would show some mercy. If she were skilled with offensive magecraft or in any sort of fighting shape she might have tried forcing her way out of the situation. Alas, she was neither which left her at the mercy of another.

Seconds passed in crushing silence before the blonde hummed. "He didn't even twitch. Come to think of it, he didn't even seem to care that I was chasing after you." Scoffing in a mix of frustration and disappointment, the blonde turned to leave. "There's no point in killing you, it'd just be a waste of my energy."

The blonde walked away while Caren released a shaking breath. Connecting to that blacked spot in her mind, her own annoyance came flooding forth. "So you won't even protect me from the enemy?"

The response was immediate. Wasn't he supposed to be in battle? "I was confident you could handle it and you did, good work." A pang of intense agony struck her chest. It was so sharp, so sudden that her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if she might choke.

Just as soon as it had arrived, it vanished, leaving behind a lingering sense of weakness above the already famished state of her body. Had that been a sample of the mana he required to conduct battle? Had it been a warning? Berserker telling her directly not to continue pestering him or else he would shift the load onto her? Clutching her heart, the priestess took a moment to recover.

Why had God cursed her with such a demon?

Was it divine punishment for her desire and affections?

… … …

Nothing was working. Their attacks, their tactics, nothing could even get close to breaking Berserker's ridiculous defence. Caster struggled to complete the last of their attack. Before his leg had been destroyed, he had managed to create fourteen out of the eighteen runes necessary for his noble phantasm. After the damage, he only managed two more and they were rapidly running out of time.

Rider had a sword capable of handling Berserker's, but she had no experience in using it. If he could make an accurate comparison, the girl and that sword were like a fish and a bicycle. Each time she barely managed to defend a strike, her entire body quivered from the force and she was forced to step out of range.

Her agility still couldn't compare to Berserker's, so she was always on the edge of taking a fatal strike. Caster had helped where he could, using ranged magecraft but every attack he mounted simply bounced off Berserker due to his magic resistance. Nothing beneath A-rank attacks made it through and even they weren't that effective.

Such attacks might have been able to penetrate his resistance, but he was able to deflect or outright absorb the spells with his blade. If only he had been summoned as Lancer, if only he had access to a more manageable noble phantasm, then they might have been faring better.

He had access to more powerful phantasms as a Caster, but that power came with great tedium. Limping to the next position, Caster scrawled upon the cobblestone to form another symbol from the runic alphabet.

"There's nothing I can do to help using magecraft. His resistance is too high for anything I have to be a real threat without endangering both you and Rider." Symbol complete, the servant deliberated on whether to take time and heal his demolished leg or continue hobbling to the next position. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle the pain, it was negligible after all his battles in life. It was more a matter of overall speed to complete his attack.

"That's fine, the enchantment on my gloves has worn off, there's no way I'd be able to handle him. I'm going to collect my trump card just in case Berserker gets any ideas."

Nodding to nobody but himself, the servant stopped and bent down to heal his destroyed limb. Not only would it speed up the completion of his noble phantasm, but if Berserker decided to switch targets — which was entirely likely — he'd have an advantage in direct combat.

There was a clang louder than the others that caught his attention. Peering upwards, he saw Rider and Berserker distanced from one another. From what he could see, Rider was about to fall apart. Her chest was heaving, but as he expected she was far too dignified to resort to panting. At the very least she had broken a sweat and beads of such had formed on her forehead.

"This farce of a fight grows tiresome. Your luck has kept you safe this far but even that has its limits." Berserker gripped his blade in two hands and shot forward faster than Rider could even react. With a loud grunt and both hands, Berserker landed a devastating overhead strike that rocketed the spiral sword from Rider's hands into the ground. Her combat ability might have been bolstered using a blade from her past lover, but even with such a weapon, it was nothing compared to Berserker.

Hell, even Fergus would have a hard time; that servant was a true monster through and through. Weaponless, the damned pink devil could only jump back to avoid being skewered.

But that wasn't enough. Berserker was ludicrously fast and it seemed as if he had only grown faster after supposedly getting serious. It was difficult for Caster himself to track the servant and even a small sprint forward created an echoing boom that unbalanced Rider.

With a thrust of the blade, the woman was lifted off her feet as the weapon pierced her body. With a cry of pain, she was discarded from the weapon like a ragdoll. Landing and rolling on the ground, she struggled to keep her upper half off the ground as blood poured freely from the gaping wound.

Finishing the repair of his own knee, Caster leapt to complete the second-last sigil as fast as he could. Putting the finishing touch, his eyes locked on the last open space just a few yards away. All he needed was one more, but he wasn't entirely sure whether Rider would make it. Then again, was that entirely a bad thing? Getting rid of that vile woman would be a load off his mind and she would distract Berserker long enough for him to activate his noble phantasm.

Rider would die, then Berserker would follow. It was a win-win in his eyes. Though, there was always the chance that even his strongest noble phantasm wouldn't be enough and then they'd be in hot water and absolutely defenceless.

Growling in frustration, Caster watched as Berserker approached Rider's grounded form. He was going to execute her if something wasn't done. He could prepare and fire off an attack in time that might distract Berserker but he would have to move closer. The last sigil was behind Caster himself in the opposite direction of the confrontation. Caught in the dilemma, something bitter and electrifying hinted at the inside of his nose; the scent of battery acid.

It was as if a dam had burst and a great flood had washed across the ground. Crackling violet fluid rushed around his body in the direction of Rider, coalescing and shooting out like webs from a spinneret. Strings wrapped around Berserker's entire body, constricting and yanking on every joint to freeze Berserker in place. As more mass was directed to hold him, the fluid surrounding Caster receded.

Deeming the solution as handled, Caster returned to finishing the last of his sigils but he held a close watch on the two other servants regardless.

Rather than just stringy webbing to hold the servant back, humanoid figures began to spawn forth from the ooze. Two of them even grabbed hold of Rider to drag her back while a large bulbous mass grew ahead of Berserker to separate the two.

"Is it ready?"

The pressing question spurred him onward and focused his mind on the only task he was responsible for. Coming to a sliding halt at the last position, the druid inscribed most of the final rune onto the cobblestone below. "It's ready, but I don't know how this is going to work. It's supposed to wipe out encampments a hundred yards wide; I've never used it on a single person before."

A voice shouted out above the breezy night. "If that's how you're going to fight then I won't even leave your corpse behind!" Looking upward, a flash of sickly blue light spawned from Berserker's crimson sword. The light rapidly grew in intensity until the entire blade took on the same unsightly shade. Arcs of energy flowing from the weapon sporadically lashed out at the bindings constricting Berserker. Like an overloaded conduit, the strings of violet erupted, dropped to the floor and smoked in utter defeat.

Both hands came to land on the handle of his weapon but it was drawn backwards behind his body as if to slash outwards. "It's too late to try and fix it or work out something else." He could hear the edge of fear in his master's voice but there was more than enough determination to quash it. "This has to be his strongest attack, but if we're going to win you need to listen to me carefully. After his attack is unleashed, there will be a sudden shift and it will all disappear. It's at that moment that you need to activate your phantasm."

Keeping his staff in the same place, a few inches from completing the final rune, Caster nodded to himself and locked eyes on the glowing — now greenish — servant. The power radiating from him was nearly suffocating even for Caster and a visible sphere of energy was coalescing around the mad servant.

The shifting blob, twice the height of Berserker, suddenly sprouted two club-like appendages that were brought down into a crushing blow. As soon as it struck the sphere of energy, the arms abruptly stopped dead and cracks of green rapidly spread through the entire being. Like an insect on a live wire, the creature erupted into a colossal spray of blackish goo that was quickly absorbed into the dry rock.

It was his noble phantasm, the power brought no doubt to Caster's mind. What did Bazett have planned? In a few moments, Rider and everything behind her would be wiped out.

Something burgundy shifted behind the servant of pink. It was easy to catch with his keen eyes but it wasn't something he wanted to see. Why was his master approaching Berserker like she could take him on? She passed Rider and the two figures which continued to pull her away. The servant spoke but Caster was too far to hear it clearly.

Hovering above Bazett's right hand was a strange ball of metal. Runic and symbology even he didn't recognize swirled around the ball, becoming a spinning band that distorted the sphere's shape. Like fluid, a razor-thick bade protruded from the top and what remained of the orb had become a crystal mass.

He wanted to warn her of the danger, to let her know what she was going up against, but there was no time. Berserker was already swinging his weapon and from the tip spewed a blinding wave of hot energy that scorched Caster's skin even from a distance.

He barely caught the last instant of time before the wave struck his master while she threw a punch at the floating sphere. She was engulfed in the wave of energy and likely perished instantly. He felt depressed but more than anything he was disappointed. He and Bazett were rather similar and he would have liked to see her wish realized by the Grail.

He blinked, and his entire sense of balance lurched in uncertainty. Opening his eyes, the entire scene from before had shifted vastly. Berserker was still there, but the energy surrounding him had vanished and she was holding his chest where blood poured freely from an open wound.

Spotting his master, a wave of relief threw the depression of failure away. Standing just behind a steaming, red-hot ball of metal, she looked in his direction and her voice filled his mind.

"Activate your noble phantasm, do it now!"

"Another one of your damned tricks," the mad servant spat, removing his hand to regrip his blade. "You'll need more than a pin-hole to break the heart of a dragon!" Knowing full well what was needed of her, Bazett turned on her heels and ran away towards Rider.

A stroke of his staff finalized the last rune and each one forming the perimeter erupted in orange light. With a sharp whistle and point of the staff in Berserker's direction, Caster began chanting. "I beseech you, God of Wisdom, bestow a fragment of your power unto me to defeat my enemy." The symbols flashed ominously and Berserker keenly made node of his position within the established circle. "With the originals in place, the space is set. With the enemy within, the target is made." Pillars of thin orange light shot into the sky like beacons and walls quickly trapped Caster and Berserker inside. "Strike now, Matrix Wodan!"

The druid closed his eyes in preparation for what was next though his ears were left unprotected to the deafening roar that assailed them. He was eternally grateful that the attack didn't affect the caster otherwise he would be meeting the same fate as Berserker; if it was even enough to take him down.

A dozen seconds of constant droning noise pressed his eardrums until it abruptly stopped just as suddenly as it started. Opening his eyes, the landscape returned though much different than before. As if it were assaulted with small explosives, countless small pits had been drilled into — and through — the cobblestone. There was a clear edge to this destruction which followed the former perimeter he had established with the runes.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, the fatigue of his drained energy gradually settled in. Just when he wanted to relax, Caster realized there were still two servant signals nearby.

Berserker was still alive.

After having his heart speared and facing the power of a Norse god, he was still alive.

How was such a thing even possible? Still reeling, Caster could only gape as his eyes landed on a pebble-covered, armour-clad figure lying face down in the cobblestone.

"It worked, right? Tell me it worked. I still can't see after whatever that attack was." Her voice was desperate, but he didn't have the heart to tell her the answer. It came to her regardless of his actions by way of a scraping noise as the servant's weapon was jammed into the ground to aid in standing.

Albeit shaky, Berserker stood fully upright and brandished his weapon with Caster on the receiving end. The man didn't speak a word but an angered huff of steam from the front of his mask spoke volumes.

"Son of a bitch." He could share some sympathies with his master in that.

At least they could say they gave it their best shot.

… … …

… … …

Hail.

The forecast for the next two days was intermittent showers of hail brought on by a northern cold front that surpassed the warm air brought from the south. It might have been early morning but the air outside was a dreary, depressing gray. The light of the dawning sun, blurred by cloud coverage, created a lingering, humid fog.

There were rumours of a total climate turnaround that would shift Fuyuki from a balmy winter to a frigid one. Supposedly they would get more than six inches of snow in the following week and temperatures would hover around the negatives for the rest of the season. While the weather wasn't predicted to be as bad as it had been a few years ago when blizzards occurred regularly, Rin was concerned.

Poor weather meant people would stay indoors. People staying indoors and poor visibility meant daytime attacks by enemy servants appeared more lucrative. There were no formal rules against attacks during the day. The only stipulation was that no witnesses could see the battle. With the fog and hail, no witnesses would be present. No chance of detection meant all servants and masters were free to do as they pleased.

Sighing softly, the Tohsaka placed a hand against the window while cold rain pattered against the other side. Between Berserker and Assassin, she didn't know who to be more afraid of. Assassin had numbers, expertise and tactics while Berserker had pure impossible strength and speed. If it came down to an ultimatum, she would rather take Berserker. At least she knew what to expect with him.

There was a chance her problems had solved themselves though. In the middle of the night, she had been stirred from a brief nap by a quake in the ground and a wave of magical energy. According to Archer, it had originated from the direction of Fuyuki Church. From Shirou, she learned Berserker's master to be Caren Hortensia, which meant there had been a battle between Berserker and another servant.

Obviously it wasn't Assassin, otherwise she would have heard about it from Saber. Rider and Caster were the only remaining possibilities, but she didn't know if they were capable of handling the mad servant even if they were working together. If they weren't, she had two fewer servants to worry about - admittedly a good thing.

A call of her name from a familiar voice sent her turning around. Settling a silver tray holding china on the coffee table, Archer straightened and placed one hand on his hip. "I've made tea and if you're hungry, I have snacks."

Thanking her servant, the woman settled into a seat upon the loveseat to warm herself with the offered drink. After taking a short temperature-testing sip, the girl peered up at him. "You made snacks?"

He seemed to twitch nervously, but she was uncertain. "Saber gets irritable if she's not fed. If she's to be kept hospitable, it's best to administer snacks every three hours." The man paused and scratched the back of his neck. "It's actually a little embarrassing now that I think about it."

Rin couldn't help but smile. "It's actually a little cute."

"What is?" A commanding voice asked from behind. Twisting her head to see who it was, blonde hair and cool emerald eyes stared back at her. Saber had entered the room and was looking between the two of them with suspicion. When nobody answered, the girl's lips pursed ever so slightly. "I'd like to see as well."

Rin briefly contemplated outing her servant and his odd fascination with her but decided against it. A poorly conceived lie wasn't likely to deceive the King of Knights, so her best bet was with a distraction.

"It's nothing, how did your conversation with Gray go?" It was an innocent enough comment, and based on Saber's expression shift it was good enough to skew her attention.

"We certainly know much more about one another. I've offered some advice where I could and I believe she could be an effective asset in our attack on Assassin." Saber leaned forward a touch and placed a hand on the back of the sofa.

"Is that so? She must be quite powerful." Refocusing on her tea, Rin couldn't see Saber shake her head.

"Not exactly. Gray isn't as powerful as myself, Archer or even Shirou. However, she has a weapon designed specifically to destroy spirits and as you're well aware, servants are spirits."

"Another asset, though it's unlikely to turn the tide completely." Archer's cold, analyzing remark did little to inspire hope.

The blonde servant didn't take it as well. "Why is it that you continue to be so pessimistic?"

"I'm only considering things from the most realistic perspective. Being honest, I would say you're being too idealistic." The man narrowed his eyes and an immediate tension filled the room.

Saber barely uttered a single syllable before Rin spoke over the both of them. "Archer, how well do you know the cave Shirou is in?"

He softened but only partly. "Rather well, unfortunately."

"Do you believe you could draw a map so that we could strategize?"

He paused for a moment but eventually shrugged half-heartedly. "I suppose I can. I assume you have writing supplies?"

"I do, and while I gather them you can offer Saber and our other guests some of the food you've prepared."

Setting down her tea and standing upright, Rin could see Saber quickly shift from annoyed to confused before finally landing on something she could only guess was excitement. Maybe she had realized that Archer, being Shirou, could cook extremely well. "An excellent idea, Rin."

While the two servants left to gather others and gorge themselves, Rin collected some drawing supplies for Archer to make maps of the cave with.

Unlike Shirou, she didn't have a whiteboard on wheels she could haul out specifically for planning. In fact, she didn't even know where one could buy such a thing. Had he stolen it from school or something? Then again, there was always a chance it was Kiritsugu's. He was the sort of man to have a whiteboard on wheels and steal it from a school both.

She wasn't hoping for much. It was a cave, there was likely only one cramped path to wherever he was being held. How much planning could she really do with options so limited?

What Rin hadn't expected was a sprawling labyrinth of tunnels and hidden pathways either flooded or at the end of stray pathways. Archer had made a rather good assumption that Assassin was holding Shirou in the large central cavern which also happened to be the deepest point. A multitude of paths to that destination played into their favour, but nearly as many were written off as being impassable for various reasons.

Everyone in the house worked together to define their possible positions within the operation while the hail from the morning weather report began to patter against the roof and windows. Rin rapidly realized how useful Saber and Lancer were especially for planning the assault on the cavern. Both were skilled veterans when it came to war which meant they could easily define roles for each person and create plans for several possible situations. Over a few hours intermittently broken up with breaks and light snacking, a rather definitive plan regarding Shirou's rescue was established.

When it was over Rin actually had a glimmer of hope that their prison break could go off without casualties. Whether that would be the reality or not depended entirely on everything going without a hitch, and there were far too many possible hitches for that to be likely.

They just needed to wait until nightfall now.

A prodding against her hand popped the bubble of concentration in her mind. Turning to her right, Rin saw chilled green eyes and silver hair peering back at her. Breaking into a soft smile, the other girl seemed to shift backwards in uncertainty. "What did you need?"

"King- Saber told me you could explain why Archer and Shirou look so similar." Her eyes were passive but far from dull. They sparkled with an inner sense of longing for knowledge. In fact, they reminded Rin of herself when she was younger. They were the eyes of a scholar.

The smile on her face grew genuine as the image of her wearing glasses tutoring a frame magus in gemcraft appeared in her mind. It was interesting how a single question could amuse her so much. Maybe the stress of the War was cracking her composure but who was to say? "I guess I should start from the beginning so you understand everything."

… … …

… … …

It was wrong.

Seven masters, seven servants, each one was supposed to slaughter the other for their vain attempt at a wish.

But it was wrong.

Seven masters - seven servants - four teams - groups of three. None of it was how it was supposed to be.

There was a contingency, sure, but the requirements for it were not met yet. Fighting and conflict were still brewing but nothing came of it and after an entire week still not a single servant had died.

The Fourth War had been better. A master and servant had died within the first day and several more had quickly followed. Things were better when they went quickly, it was more exciting.

Quickly or not, something had to be said about the raw despair oozing from every one of the masters. Each one poured bitter anguish and dread every waking moment and all of them suffered deliciously.

In that sense, it was almost worth the wait.

Still, it needed to be spurred along. Servants needed to die, the suffering needed to climax and a wish of ultimate calamity needed to be offered.

But what tool was available?

The False Grail was still too docile to be activated and without the energy of a servant it was far too dormant to jumpstart through brute force.

In fact, without a single servant's energy, there were practically no options.

But.

There might have been one.

The Fourth War ended with an incomplete ritual. The energy was never expended which meant there was a surplus available for just such an occasion.

Another servant could be summoned but a catalyst was required from somewhere. As if locating a usable, discarded catalyst wasn't enough, the servant it linked to couldn't be one which guzzled energy unscrupulously, it had to be a servant capable of persisting on the most minimal upkeep.

It took an instant for the multitude of eyes across Fuyuki to locate catalysts but the pickings were few and far between.

One choice, however.

One choice was something of pure genius.

It was only a paltry twenty-six years old. Ryuudou Temple, just before the staircase, forgotten in a fray and buried under dirt, sand and time. For being so recent it had a remarkable tie to a very specific servant that worked perfectly for the situation at hand.

To summon a servant without formalcraft established by a master meant there would be massive instability. The threat of both memory and personality loss was high but for the purposes it would be used in, neither were a problem.

As if the servant that would be summoned would even have notable memories.

The Grail had no physical body, but it was smiling all the same in anticipation.

… … …

All his life Shirou had never enjoyed waiting. Maybe it was his personality or maybe it had been Kiritsugu's persistent nagging and urging but the boy despised being idle unless it was for a specific reason.

There were also only so many things one could do while trapped in a dark cave with a woman and he wasn't interested in a large portion of them. Last night had been enough for him; at least for a while. Sakura, on the other hand, was almost more fervent in her efforts.

With bedroom activities off the table, he had to do something to occupy himself. When he wasn't checking in with Saber, taking a walk with Sakura around the cave or going through Archer's list of noble phantasms, he was just checking and making sure Sakura was doing alright.

She claimed she was, but her face held a guarded look of concern. Considering the cause, Shirou did note that the cave held fewer copies of Assassin than the night he arrived.

Copies, that was the right word for them. He had caught glimpses of these copies and heard them speak but none had the composure and casualness of the one who spoke directly to Sakura in the middle of the night. The discovery brought on questions and hypotheses. Was Assassin some sort of hivemind with a singular copied personality or were they all different? Zabaniya, obviously a noble phantasm, but was that all they had at their disposal or did each individual copy have something different?

He wasn't familiar with many historical legends. Before the War began he had come to the conclusion that trying to memorize the legend of every single possible servant was too tedious and useless when he could spend time training. Besides, his servant would supposedly have that knowledge.

He had asked Saber, but she was unfamiliar. It was only after speaking with Archer that Assassin was confirmed to be one of the Hashshashin, though even he had no idea which it was. According to him, they were never able to use multiple types of Zabaniya, yet this one did.

Spontaneously, a fierce itch spawned and spread throughout his back from between his shoulder blades. Like a thousand bugs crawling on him, the sensation rapidly became unbearable. Struggling to reach behind himself and scratch, he eventually broke down and asked Sakura to help.

Laying a hand on him, the girl recoiled and exclaimed in pain. "You're burning up, Senpai. Can't you feel how hot you are?"

It wasn't like Sakura to lie, but he didn't believe her all the same. Furrowing his brow to portray his disbelief, he shook his head. "If you didn't want to scratch my back you could just say so."

The Matou pouted heavily. "I'm not lying. Take off your shirt so I can see." Producing an audible breath with his nose, he followed her orders and disrobed. Shirt off, she made a strange noise that further confused him.

In the middle of asking, "what's wrong?" he looked down to see familiar lines of blue on his chest.

"How can you not notice that your circuits are active?" She laid a hand on him, now expecting and unafraid of the warmth. He honestly couldn't feel his circuits heating his body, but her hand definitely felt unnaturally cool.

Shirou was confused himself. It wasn't as if he was using any magecraft so there was no need for his circuits to be active. His circuits had been stuck on twice before, but each time were for specific reasons and he had always noticed they were active in one way or another.

Stranger still, he could still activate his circuits and his mana storage wasn't being affected. It was less like they were on and more as if they were reacting with something. He couldn't even begin to guess what was at work.

Replacing his projected shirt on his body, he decided not to worry about it for the moment. It hadn't held him back, so he didn't see a need to fix anything yet.

"Shirou, how are you doing?"

The unprompted question from Saber admittedly caught him off guard but he failed to react outwardly. "All things considered I'm doing alright. Have you guys finalized your plan?"

He gripped Sakura's hand and began tracing his steps back toward the room within the center. "We have, but you won't hear of the details in case you are somehow interrogated."

He repressed a sigh. He hated feeling useless. "That's fine, I leave all the decisions to you."

"I appreciate the gesture. We shall speak later." A squeeze against his hand brought him back to reality and a turn of the head let him look at Sakura's conflicted face.

Seeing straight through him, she murmured, "You were speaking to Saber again, weren't you?"

He nodded and cracked his neck to one side in embarrassment. "You can tell that easily, can you?"

She looked forward. "Senpai's eyes get cloudy and his jaw tightens when he talks in his mind." Why was she speaking about him as if describing what he did to someone else? It was like she was reiterating information given to her by another person. If it was anyone, it was Assassin.

"Sorry, it's hard to ignore someone when they're speaking inside your head." The two continued walking toward the room. After a few steps, Sakura mumbled something under her breath.

When he asked what she said, the girl grew sheepish, offered a fake bright smile and an equally forced excuse.

He wasn't certain, but he could have sworn she said, "I know what you mean."

… … …

"It's impossible. There's no goddamn way a servant could survive both of those attacks." With a crunch, the tree nearest Bazett was reduced to toothpicks with a mere punch.

"I don't mean to sound rude, especially after watching you destroy a tree with your bare hands, but if it were truly impossible then it wouldn't have happened." Lectra's analysis did little to calm the Irish woman. Rather than crack the girl's skull, however, Bazett cracked her neck to both sides.

"Thanks, kid. Your observation of the obvious really calmed me down and made things so much better." Staring at her with the most venomous glare she could manage, she was halted from doing anything rash by Caster who threw one arm around the woman's shoulder.

"Relax, it's not all that bad so go easy on the kid. We all made it out with our hides intact."

Lectra threw both arms down in anger. "I'm twenty-three years old, can you stop calling me a kid?"

"Sorry, little lady. There's not much problem with staying young and pretty-looking though, is there?" The servant let loose a sly grin that sent the hoodie-wearing girl into an embarrassed blush.

Luvia growled in frustration and stomped past all three through the wood. "Did you forget Rider nearly died against that freak?" Of all three masters, it was clear she was the most upset. "And that I used the last dazzling crystal I had?"

Caster shut one eye and scratched his cheekbone with his free hand. "Not going to lie, I don't see a problem with that first part though I will admit it was good timing with that gem."

Bazett shrugged the man off her and rolled her eyes as she followed Luvia. "We were all nearly killed. Even using all we had we couldn't put so much as a dent in him."

"Now hold on," the druid began with some more authority. "We've definitely put a dent in him." Luvia and Bazett both turned to face him now; equally confused as to what it was he meant. "The noble phantasm I used has an after-effect for any servant strong enough to survive."

The Irish woman seemed intrigued but Luvia's anger only grew. "Why didn't you tell us that before we left? We might have been able to finish him off!"

The man lifted both hands and clasped them behind his head. "I wanted to keep a little secret just in case," he admitted honestly. "Among other effects that have likely passed by now, he'll be weakened for about a week."

"If it's not a substantial decrease then I doubt it will even do much to Berserker," the blonde scoffed.

The man shimmied his head in uncertainty. "You're a master, you should know what his parameters are. Either way, they'll all be lowered by one whole rank for a week or so."

Bazett paused to think about the results before huffing indignantly. "That still doesn't help us much. Even weakened three of his parameters will be A-plus."

"Hold on a moment," Luvia interrupted. "Are his abilities weakened as well as his parameters?" The servant nodded and the blonde paused for a moment with a blank stare. A few seconds passed before it seemed as if she snapped back into her body. "We might just have another chance at killing that monster. Rider claims one of her noble phantasms was blocked the last time she tried it on him. If all of his stats are decreased, it might be enough for her to get through."

"Now wait just a minute," Caster began. Moving his arms from behind his head to cross them in front of his chest. "I can't sit here and let her go through with that plan. She'll take over Berserker and then everyone in this War will have to eat out of her hand."

Bazett offered an uncertain glare that snapped from Luvia back to her own servant several times. "What do you mean?"

"She's got a noble phantasm that controls the hearts of men. If she takes over Berserker she'll use him against us!"

Luvia scoffed and appeared highly insulted. "I would never renounce our deal. Killing Berserker was always my intention."

"That might be your idea, missy, but I can guarantee you things will change once your servant gets her greedy little claws in someone that powerful." Caster's words were filled with raw anger. It was well known he despised her but his hatred was bubbling forth in full at the prospect of betrayal. "I know how she works better than any of you."

"So you're backing out of our agreement then?" It was Luvia's turn to cross her arms.

The druid narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't going that far, but I think it would be a gesture of good faith if you used one of your command seals to stop her from manipulating Berserker."

"Is this really the time or place to be discussing this, guys?" Lectra had tried to get both parties to focus on the matter at hand — getting back to safety — but her words fell on deaf ears.

"I think it's preposterous that you expect me to waste a command seal on such a ridiculous request." Luvia closed her eyes, lifted her nose and in the snobbiest way possible, formed a grimace on her face.

"Oh yeah?" Caster's staff formed in a hand that shot out in front of his body. "If you think it's so ridiculous then-!"

Bazett clamped one hand on his mouth and used the other to skew his weapon in the other direction. "Shut up you hot-headed idiot!" Assured he would remain silent after her berating, she turned to face Luvia who hadn't even stirred from her pompous position. "Listen, we've all had a long night and we could use some rest. Let's get some sleep and then tomorrow- or tonight I guess, we can finish what we started. After that our servants don't have to force themselves to work together, alright?"

Luvia opened one eye. "Believe it or not Rider seemed to enjoy working with Caster."

"That's because she's a stupid bi-" An elbow to the stomach roughly silenced the druid as he doubled over breathlessly.

Bazett leveled a cool look at Luvia. "Let's agree to disagree. One more night and this arrangement is over." After a moment of thought, the blonde nodded softly.

While the two true masters finished arguing, Lectra couldn't help but peer around the trees. "Guys, I have this weird feeling that I'm being watched."

"You've said that since the War started, you're only being paranoid," Luvia passed off in the midst of a turn to carry onward.

"It's different this time, normally I only feel like that in the night when the other servants and masters are out but it's day." It wasn't as if it was too dark to see clearly. The sun had risen an hour or more prior meaning enough daylight clearly lit up the entire forest. It was as if something was hiding in plain sight. She stared at multiple points in her surroundings, trying to see if something would move but nothing ever did.

She was so transfixed with finding the source that she neglected to realize the rest of her party had gone off ahead. Hesitantly, she produced a handful of mice-sized ether clumps to scout the area on her behalf.

Unwilling to stick around any longer without backup, she turned to rejoin Bazett and Luvia. Keeping an eye on her familiars and their signatures, she grew increasingly terrified as they disappeared one by one.

… … …

… … …

Peering through the crack of her door, Kiritsugu could watch his little girl gnaw at her fingernails like an addict. She had never been one to hold the habit, but after leaving Shirou to fight in Fuyuki she had chewed her nails to stubs and beyond. When one finger began to bleed and scab over, she moved to the next and so on until the process repeated in an endless cycle of self-injury.

As a parent, he was concerned for her but at the same time, he understood her reasoning. He also knew that people needed vices to cope with stress and if nail-biting was Illya's method he wasn't one to complain.

She was watching through Lancer's eyes as she always did, checking up on Shirou the best she could. From what the man could gather through their brief conversations, Shirou had been abducted by Assassin. Thankfully the servant seemed to be against harming him but it was a worrying situation regardless.

Subconsciously he reached into his inner breast pocket, thankful that it was empty. A long time ago he had chosen cigarettes. Almost as long ago he had given them up for her.

Withdrawing from the crack in the door he moved toward the small living room which housed Missy and himself. Their secondary operations hub wasn't designed to be lived in but it had been reorganized to accommodate them for the remainder of the War.

It was a small single bedroom home tucked away in a small village just outside of Fuyuki. It had been condemned by the bank and the windows had been replaced with boards but that suited him rather well. Eyesore as it was, so long as the bank and his neighbours were given money to stay silent, everyone was content.

Entering the living room, Missy offered an attentive look from her position beside the main window. "Were you going out for a night walk again?"

He nodded shortly and continued toward the door. "Keep watch on Illya for me."

The man stepped outside without waiting for an answer, confident Missy would follow his orders. Even though it was raining and on the verge of snowing, he needed a walk to think and clear his mind.

Stuffing both hands into his coat to draw the two sides together, the man walked from the door to the sidewalk toward a small convenience store that had vending machines positioned outside. Illya could use a treat and so could he.

Closing his eyes as he moved on autopilot, he considered the state of the War and his position within it all. What purpose did he serve? Was he really just limited to a background support role? Was he missing something in Caster's words?

He passed through a streetlight into a darkened patch of the street. His eyes snapped wide and with a sharp twist of the body, his left fist was sent head-level at whoever it was that had crept behind him.

With a soft thwack, his hand landed squarely in the palm of something cold and unyielding. Letting out a slow breath, he allowed his body to relax. A half-skull mask loomed behind him. Unlike the last encounter, where the servant had been a woman, this one was a large man whose hand could easily crush his entire skull.

How? How and why had Assassin tracked him down again? What purpose was there in following him so far out of the city when he wasn't even a master? He had gone so far to avoid being confronted like this, and even that measure had done nothing.

The servant cocked their head to one side slowly while releasing Kiritsugu's fist. Yanking his arm back, the man watched the servant stand motionless for some time. The rain that touched their body sizzled as if instantly boiling but no steam emanated from their form. "We meet again, ancient warrior."

So it knew of their last encounter? No that wasn't quite right. It spoke as if they were familiar. Were they the same entity? "What do you want this time?" He wasn't dead, so they were likely interested in conversation rather than killing. He wanted to ask what they planned on doing, holding his son prisoner, but held himself back. Stepping out of line against a servant spelled his death.

"The situation has changed, roles revised. You have become necessary in the prevention effort."

The man narrowed his eyes cautiously. "What prevention effort?" Did the servant know more than he did? How important was this prevention effort if they were willing to ask for help from an enemy team? The only way it possibly made sense is if he were the only one able to stop whatever it was that had them so uneasy, or it was so impossible to defeat alone that working together was the last option.

The servant shook their head rapidly. "Explanation is futile, you will understand your mission when faced with your adversary."

He wasn't about to be ordered by an enemy servant. Threat or not, to follow their guidance blindly would be idiotic. "I'm not your errand boy, find someone else."

The servant slowly tilted their head sideways and the blue flame of their eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Salvation requires your presence. Our methods are cordial." The voice darkened several orders of magnitude. "We can motivate you if you so choose."

The servant's arm extended to point one clawed digit in the direction of the safehouse. Gritting his teeth, the man realized that Assasin hadn't made a request for a favour but an order: Help them defeat some foe or his family died. Fury welled up within, trying to convince him that using his Contender was a good idea.

Whether he attacked Assassin to stop them from getting to Illya or worked with them to stop whatever their threat was, he was likely to die.

Pausing to weigh the options, the man clenched both hands into fists. "I'll help you, but I need more information."

Kiritsugu didn't know how, but he felt that Assassin had smiled. "In time. We will bring you to the disturbance once you return to the city. You will understand your role then." Without another word, the servant vanished into the very shadows surrounding the rim of the streetlight.

After a deep breath, the Magus Killer resumed his journey toward the vending machines just a block away. He would need to leave for Fuyuki, alone. Before he left he could speak with Illya and Missy and let the latter know of her responsibilities in his stead. She would have to protect Illya alone and while he wasn't comfortable with the thought, there was no better person beyond Shirou to fill that role.

Reaching the machine, he fiddled in his pocket for a handful of coins. Buying a collection of varied sweets, he made the short walk back.

Stepping into the door, he offered Missy a nod as a greeting and let her know they would need to talk later.

Knocking on the door to Illya's room before nudging it open, the girl stated up at him with unfamiliarity. She blinked several times as if recovering from staring at a screen then offered a weak smile. "They're heading to Mount Enzou now. Hopefully, in a few hours, they'll have Shirou."

Landing a hand on top of her head, he let out a soft, "I'm sure they will." Withdrawing his hand from her head he pulled out and offered the purchased treats. "I know Shirou wouldn't be very happy that you're eating this stuff but I can't cook as well as he can."

Taking his offerings with a thanks and a hug, he explained that he would need to leave for Fuyuki once again. She was rightfully upset and the complaints about his sudden departure came by the truckload.

She might have been able to sway his decisions in the past, but he wasn't about to yield to her this time. Assassin had already made a threat on Illya's life and he wasn't about to put her in jeopardy when he could throw away his own life instead. The servant had a plan; they wouldn't have spared him or Shirou if they didn't. If he was involved, it was expected that he would need to kill.

In any case, the Magus Killer was active once again. He wouldn't have to sit on his hands and wait for others to finish what he had indirectly started. Maybe the sudden development was a good thing in that regard.

With all the preparatory steps made, the man entered his car parked on the street and began driving within a short moment.

Before he could really set out to complete whatever task it was Assassin had, he would need to equip himself and prepare what he could. As he finished a turn into a barren late-night highway, the man rubbed at his eyes in fatigue. His next stop was the secure bunker that housed most of his gear. He didn't know what to expect, but it was in his best interest to be prepared.

For the briefest moment, he wondered just how many times he would come in and out of retirement. In the same thought, he wondered if he would even retire again. It was the Grail War, after all.

… … …

… … …

The entrance to the underbelly of Mount Enzou was heavily shrouded behind trees and brush. Despite the fact it was well known to be Assassin's hideout, a servant composed of dozens of bodies, there was little sign of traffic. In fact, Archer could only detect a single set of footprints and movements. Even then, they were days old and their signs were imperceptible to the less observant among their group.

Sliding through the cold, rain-soaked foliage, Rin shivered and shook herself off once within the equally chilled embrace of the dark cavern. Peering further within, she could barely see beyond a few feet though a consistent, low earthly hum surrounded her ears like a haze.

Archer stepped past her and outstretched his right hand. Seamlessly, a pre-lit torch appeared in his grasp. A smirk befell her lips. Shirou had always been on the cutting edge of technology as long as she had ever known him. Whether it was a new cell phone or entertainment system for the living room, he followed his father's footsteps in modernity.

Rin, on the other hand, had always been obstinate against technology though her mother had gradually settled into the normal modern human life. It was because of her mother's change that Rin had access to a flashlight which was the main source of her amusement.

The shoe was on the other foot for once. She was modern and chic while Shirou was ancient and outdated. Pressing the button on the side of its plastic casing, a bright light bathed the back of Archer and reflected off the thin weapon in his left hand.

It was a silver rapier with an elaborate, flowery handguard. At the weapon's tip, as if responding to the light, a bright white dot bloomed and pulsed as if alive.

She actually knew the weapon and its abilities, but she didn't know the name and had forgotten about it entirely. When Shirou returned from the Mage's Association, he had shown her several mystic codes he had copied from his competitors. One such competitor had used a rapier that fired beams of light with each thrust.

When Saber had let him know of their plan, he had instructed her to tell Archer about the weapon. She wondered how it was possible for the servant to have weapons known only to the person before remembering an ancient article in one of her father's tomes. There was documentation of magi recovering spells from past lives so it would only make sense that Shirou and Archer could transmit their magecraft between one another.

Peering behind herself, the gleaming gold blade of Excalibur forced her to squint lest she go blind. Behind her was Gray, holding the caged cube outwards ahead of her like some sort of lantern and taking up the rear was Lancer.

Their positioning was deliberate: Set humans between servants to mitigate the risk of Assassin making an effective sneak attack. It wasn't great, as they were all vulnerable to attacks from the side and above, but it was the best option they had.

Rin turned to continue following her servant though as she did so a drop of moisture landed square on her nose, splashing most of her face with minute amounts of cold water. Blinkink in surprise, she gave her head a soft shake and sped up to maintain her position behind Archer.

"I know it's not saying much, but all of you should remember to keep your eyes, ears and nose open for anything out of the ordinary."

Keeping the flashlight forward to illuminate what she could, Rin got close to Archer and worked on scanning the area as best she could. Being human, she could only do so much and that was shockingly little in the abyss-like cave. "Do you think this plan will work?"

In a low murmur marred with concentration, Archer responded while shifting his head around the area. "It depends entirely on what, when and where we're attacked. If I had to make an educated guess, I'd put our chances right now at around ten percent."

Their odds weren't good, but she had known that coming in. Peering back, Rin motioned for the rest of the group to close in. If they were separated, their chance would plummet from a measly ten percent to zero.

The group steadily moved deeper into the cave in silence, keeping themselves on high alert all the while. Five minutes in, Rin was growing increasingly nervous. Reaching into her mind for Archer, she stated her concern. "This is going too smoothly, why hasn't Assassin attacked yet?"

"It's not as if they don't know we're here. They undoubtedly sensed us before we even entered." Slowing his pace, the man threw his dying torch carelessly ahead. With a clattering echo, it slid along the ground and came to rest in a part which opened up considerably. "They might be organizing themselves at a choke point. We should use our second plan to throw them off."

Nodding to herself, Rin turned her head over her shoulder and flashed Saber two fingers. The woman nodded and repeated the action down the line. Facing forward, she watched as Archer quickly shifted toward the side so he could run his hands along the walls of the cave. As if such contact told him where to go, the man sped up and faced a slight depression in the wall. Examining it for a moment, he paused to swap the rapier in his hand for a peculiar looking hammer. With a sharp swing, the stalagmites and stalactites covering a tunnel were shattered to offer a pathway.

The man ducked into the shaft wordlessly, expecting the rest to follow. It was far more of a struggle of dexterity for Rin to get herself through the small hole he made but she managed regardless. Within, the walls and ceiling of the cave had constricted greatly until they nearly felt choking. She was thankful she wasn't claustrophobic, but it was still concerning. Archer claimed to know the pathways of this cave, but what if his memories were different and they got trapped?

As Saber entered, the light from her blade grew more focused. Rin could actually see beyond Archer for some distance instead of just his backside.

Continuing their journey in silence, the tunnel walls grew closer and closer. At the start, she might have been able to do a jumping jack comfortably. Deeper in, there were parts where she had to twist sideways just to slip through a tight squeeze where the walls bowed outward.

There was an advantage to being in a place so constricting, she supposed. Assassin's greatest advantage was numbers and in the tight confines, they would have to attack in single file.

They wouldn't be able to win against Archer or Lancer individually, so their movement was essentially worry-free. "I don't mean to alarm anyone, but we're being followed."

Almost worry-free, at least. Lancer's voice echoed against the unyielding stone all the way to Archer, who cast a half-glance over his shoulder. Following his lead, Rin looked back and moved her head to see beyond the three following her. Clearly visible through the darkness were two hovering balls of blue flame.

"Just play your cards carefully," was all Archer commented before pressing forward. In her mind, his voice relayed more sensitive information. "This tunnel leads to an open space just before the main chamber where Shirou is being held. The Assassins behind us are leading us into an ambush. Whoever leaves first will get swarmed and they'll try to force us all out to disjoint our formation."

Twisting sideways, Rin struggled to shrink herself an extra inch to squeeze through a sharp bend in the tunnel. "Do you have a plan?"

"Assassin still doesn't know what we're capable of, but they're not stupid. Once one of us uses these rapiers, they'll adjust their strategy."

Rin let out a firm breath. Most sane people would call her stupid for the things she did for her boyfriend. Only when she was pressed up against a slimy, dark cave wall surrounded by servants that wanted to remove her head from her shoulders did she start to believe them.

Thoughts of situational ridiculousness aside, the Tohsaka pressed onward. She would be there for Shirou, however she could be.

Their journey of confined spaces carried on for four long minutes until Archer stopped at another wall. Using the same hammer from before to make a passage, the light from Saber's weapon dispersed on the other side into a smothering black haze. Pressing his hand against the nearest wall, Archer spoke in her mind. "I can't sense any of them. If there had been dirt, I might have been able to sense pressure but stone doesn't give me any information."

A cranky voice grunted and asked, "What's the hold up now?"

Ignoring it for the moment, Rin squinted in a vain attempt at breaching the darkness ahead. Fumbling into her pockets, she retrieved a handful of sharp, sword-like gems. "I can flash the other side if you shift into spirit form. That might give us enough time to get out and prepare for an attack."

The man nodded, something she could only notice by the movement of his white hair. As if he never existed at all, he vanished from sight in a splash of blue sparks. As quickly as she could, the Tohsaka wrenched the hand full of gems from her pocket.

Cocking back, the incantation — licht — spilled from her mouth just like the gems from her hand.

Sparkling as they left the passage, they seemed to vanish a short distance outside. Closing her eyes to avoid the flash, she urged her servant to make his move while darting forward herself.

… … …

Saber was close. She was just a short distance away within another wide chamber of the cave. Not nearly as large as the one he and Sakura were in, but wide enough to play right into Assassin's hands.

She had assured him that Rin and Archer seemed to know what they were doing, but he wasn't satisfied. "If you run straight through into this cavern, you'll be able to use your noble phantasm. Just don't use it at full power or else you might bring down Ryuudou Temple on top of us."

Using her noble phantasm was a delicate matter. Too much or too little power and everyone was bound to suffer. He was confident in her decision making though. There was a large pop and a flash of light directed his head to one side of the cave.

While the light subsided, Shirou gathered a rather composed picture. There was a sharp bend into another area where the light originated, and between the corner and himself, there were over a dozen blackened figures split between looking at him and moving toward the light itself.

A soft, warm hand slipped along the back of his neck but a saddened murmur reached his ears. "I'm sorry Senpai."

Looking at Sakura for clarification, he could see her closed eyes trying to contain tears even in the darkness. "What are you sorry for?"

The girl shook her head, sniffed and wiped the corners of her eyes. "I can't help but be selfish," she managed out. "Everyone is trying so hard to rescue you, but I can't help but hope they fail."

He would have asked what she meant had it not been so glaringly obvious. She wanted Saber and the others to fail because she wanted him to stay in the cave with her. Maybe if there wasn't so much on the line, maybe if Illya and Rin hadn't been in danger at the hands of Assassin, he might have considered agreeing.

But his entire life as Kiritsugu's son had been purposefully cultivated so that he could stop the Grail War and put an end to the needless suffering.

He couldn't do it, and he shook his head miserably. Shrugging off the girl's hands, he took a step forward away from her. There was no point in sitting idle while everyone else fought, the least he could do was aid with his own two hands.

Another flash of light, far smaller than the initial bloomed from around the corner. It was followed by rapid bright flashing like machine gun fire. On occasion, beams of light flew in from out of sight only to smack into and disperse against the cave wall harmlessly.

So they were using the rapier he suggested. Were they effective? If they were still being used, they had to be, right?

Filtering through his mind's catalogue, he recovered the weapon and formed the blueprint in his mind. He had never really expected it to be useful but everything had its place after all.

In the middle of committing the memory to reality, something gripped at his hand and sent a chilling tingle through his entire arm. Snapping his head down and tugging on his own hand, he spotted Assassin holding him with a tight grip.

"We have been instructed not to cause harm however if you continue your belligerence we will be forced." The whisper seemed to come from the darkness itself. Even with enhanced eyes and the occasional sporadic flash of light from the other side of the cavern, Shirou couldn't trace the hand holding him to a body.

Tearing his arm away, his senses blurred all at once. As they returned, a full-body pain pulsed with every heartbeat and movement.

It was a familiar sensation, one he had grown accustomed to over the years of using it. It was the effects of activating Time Alter. Looking toward the flashing light ahead, he could tell by the speed the light faded that the world was moving slower than normal.

But he had never activated it, so why was he under its effects?

Just as spontaneously as it had arrived, the effect ended and he lurched back into normal time. Looking down at himself as if ensuring he was alright, he wondered what the cause might have been for the strange occurrence.

Curiously, he activated Time Alter himself on purpose just for a short moment. Entering and exiting on cue, nothing was out of the ordinary.

Maybe he was still experiencing the side effects from his crest binding with his body, but he hadn't experienced something like that for a year since the creepy old man fixed him. If not that, what else could have caused it?

The last thing he needed was for double stagnate to slow him down in the middle of a fight; chances are that would be the cause of his death if nothing else.

Without an answer or a solution, the best decision was to just move on so that's what he did. Giving a passing glance to Sakura and the skull mask, which stared daggers back, the boy gave one more look toward the flashing lights. "I'm coming to help."

"We cannot move into the large cavern, there are too many for us to force our way through."

"Then I'll cause a distraction. If I split their attention, you can wedge your way into the cracks."

"Is that what you believe?" The voice came from directly behind him and an icy chill crept along his shoulders and neck.

As he turned to look, his senses blurred once again and the world plunged into half speed. Behind him, one of the Assassin masks had both arms raised to grab hold but the decreased speed let Shirou slip back out of the way.

Not looking to squander the unexpected situation, Shirou turned and bolted toward the flashing light, reinforcing his legs to clear half the distance before Time Alter deactivated and it did so jarringly.

Stumbling over his own legs as one side moved far faster than the other, Shirou only barely remained standing. Another step forward and a chilled hand clamped down over his mouth. He wasn't able to scream, let alone react as his body was wrapped up in an empty chill that dragged him at breakneck speed in a direction he couldn't even determine.

A dozen separate voices shouted at him from all around, including above and below.

"What are you doing?"

"Where are you going?"

"That is the wrong direction!"

"Obey!"

"Their guidance has been lost."

"Traitor!"

"It is the chameleon, attack!"

"Do not harm the champion!"

A loud screech of grinding metal echoed through both his ears and the cave. In the time it took to blink, the only black figure that had been holding him disappeared. In its place, still dragging him along, was Lancer.

Hand leaving his mouth to grip his shoulder, Shirou quickly pieced together the plan and brought forward the rapier from his mind. Entering his hand with a flicker of blue-gold sparks, he thrust the weapon forward in a random direction and channelled mana through his arm. As if on command, a beam of light shot forward from the tip of the weapon into the darkness. He wasn't looking to attack or cause any harm, just to get a flash of vision of what was going on.

The flashing light illuminated a rather frightening scene straight out of a horror film. Dozens of hands and masks were in various states of reaching out to grab him. Some were far too close for comfort and the boy began firing at the memories of them but each time he did, their positioning changed sporadically as if predicting each one of his attacks.

Something gripped and pulled at his arm and a flash of light bathed the figure of an Assassin almost directly in his face. Directing his weapon and firing again, the hand left but not without leaving behind four jagged cuts through his clothing.

Looking back up, another flash revealed nearly a dozen masks less than a foot away through the fingers of many outstretched hands.

Before he could even react, he was thrown entirely off his feet through the darkness away from the masks. At one point, light began bathing his body and shortly after he collided with the ground, sliding up against someone's feet.

Another hand gripped him by the collar and hoisted him up onto his feet. He felt like a ragdoll being tossed from hand to hand but in all reality who was he to complain if he was being rescued in the end.

They were surrounded at all angles by paired orbs of blue flame but as Shirou stood upright, each one abruptly retracted, slipping away into the gloom. Offering a look back just to see who he had been thrown to, Saber's determined, rather exhausted face, shot a look back at him. "The situation changed, we altered our plan to accommodate."

With a spark-producing skid, Lancer stood ahead of Shirou with a light-firing rapier primed and ready. Archer quickly stood beside him, keeping his right side covered and further developing the shield around Shirou against Assassin.

Their defensive shell might have been made, but it seemed as if there were no attacks to meet it.

Assassin had practically disappeared, leaving the cave eerily silent and empty. It came as no surprise when everyone present for the rescue began to voice their unease.

Archer was on high alert, rapidly scanning the cave in all directions and Shirou knew exactly why. His own senses, likely similar to Archer's, were screaming at him of the potential danger. It was greater than any previous sensation he had ever felt. It wasn't as if there was someone behind him with the intent of killing him, it was as if a thousand people had their blades pressed against all of his organs and arteries simultaneously.

Looking toward the way out, flickers of iridescent light flashed back at him like a thousand spiders in the middle of the night. Their exit was blocked but they weren't being attacked.

The light that came from behind flickered and seemed to compress. Peering back, he found Gray and Rin. The latter held a torch which, although it produced a bright illuminating flame, seemed to be smothered by the darkness.

Gray, however, was holding something incomprehensible.

The warnings plaguing his mind seemed superfluous in comparison to the weapon. It was the divine construct to end divine constructs, there was no mistaking it. It was none other than King Arthur's own holy lance, Rhongomyniad. While it appeared more as a scythe than a lance, its history was impossible to replicate — much like his own ability to trace it. Even the barest delve into its construction sent a searing pulse of pain straight to the base of his brain.

He couldn't let himself linger on the artifact though, there were more important matters. Namely, the sphere of light-enveloping darkness that seemed to press ever forward.

Saber stepped past him and the two servants ahead retreated behind Rin and Gray, encasing the humans between servants for better protection.

"Keep close, some odd magic is at play here," Saber directed. Gripping her radiant weapon and concentrating to increase the light it produced, she made a soft gasp.

Unlike before, where Excalibur's radiance easily illuminated a large portion of the cave, the light produced seemed to almost be devoured by the encroaching darkness that pressed inwards.

The sphere continued to compress until it began squeezing the group together where it abruptly stopped. Before, Shirou could hear the dripping of moisture or the hollow spatial noise of the cave itself. Now, his ears had popped from the pressure made by an unnatural deafening silence.

Just to make sure he hadn't spontaneously gone deaf, he whispered an idle comment about their situation to himself. His own voice was audible at the least which meant he hadn't lost one of his senses.

Archer shook his head. "We're trapped now, right where-"

Another voice finished for him. "-we want you, correct." From the edge of the darkness ahead of the boy, a large shape stepped through the darkness as if emerging from nothingness. Two burning balls of flame ignited as their ivory mask came into view.

It was the odd one out, unlike all the others. They were bulky, as if wearing a cloak and their arms seemed to be spontaneously created and split from their amorphous body when needed. Extending one of these oddly fabricated protrusions, Saber raised her weapon and was strangely scolded by the Assassin. "Is there any need to continue hostilities despite knowing your defeat is so imminent?"

The woman made a disbelieving tsk. "You are quite bold to assume victory already."

The thing chuckled and the orbs of flame in its eyes seemed to flicker in amusement. "You can put that toy of yours away. Unless you plan on using it and burying us all beneath the cave. If that is the case, by all means."

Rather than let the potential insult stick, the blonde moved on and asked, "Who are you?"

"We are who you believe us to be. The servant Assassin, the dredge hidden in the dark awaiting the slip that spells your downfall. The threat on your life at every twist and tu-"

"Just stop the riddles and attack or kill us already," Archer nearly groaned. "I didn't come here to listen to the subliminal rants of a killer-for-hire."

For a moment, Shirou thought he saw Assassin twitch. "No need for conversation then, so be it. Zabaniya: Febrile Inspiration."

Clattering metal echoed through the cave as Saber darted forward and swung her blade. As it contacted, the impact and the sound of cracking glass made Shirou blink. As his vision returned, the incomprehensible sight of Assassin standing motionless with Excalibur half-buried in his right arm almost made Shirou gape.

A servant with her strength being unable to slice through his bare limb? How was such a thing even possible? "Zabaniya: Raving Shadow Flash, Zabaniya: Unfeeling Patrolling Spirits."

The shadows surrounding them seemed to pulse in response to his words. As if on command, the darkness bulged and produced dozens of animal shapes of every type. Some were natural; bats, wolves, rats, badgers, while some were unnatural shapes impossible to link to animals Shirou knew of.

Regardless, they all swarmed forward with gnashing teeth and sharpened claws, though they seemed to deliberately avoid Saber as they emerged from the darkness. At the very least, everyone had been prepared to deal with a threat, so none were caught empty-handed. Shirou pulled back his arm to thrust the rapier into the nearest shadow animal racing toward him but as his hand drew back, it snagged and stopped instantly as if caught by thread.

Judging on the noises produced by the others, it seemed as if they had been plagued with the same problem. The cries only grew louder as wet, fleshy noises of chewing and tearing began.

Being locked in place was no major problem. Shirou had already begun projecting and firing weapons at whatever targets he could see. The issue lied in the fact that there were far too many enemies for him to effectively kill them all. That, and the fact that he was unable to turn his head to see what was going on with Rin, Lancer, Saber and Gray behind him let alone help.

Dozens of animals slipped past Saber and him as the two struggled to keep the worst of the waves down. He could see glimpses of her face as she fought versions of Assassin and shadow creatures and he could tell she was pushed to her limit. Scratches that leaked blood had been scattered across her skin and the heaving if her breath showed only exhaustion.

Just as he imagined Saber was, he wasn't thankful that the creatures seemed to ignore him either. Each one that passed by him would attack another behind him. They would suffer on his behalf because he wasn't able to protect them.

The mere thought brought a pit of fire to his stomach, but that anger could go nowhere. Even with so much going on, Shirou could hear clearly above everything else the sentence that resonated so much within him. It came from behind in a struggling tone from a voice similar to his own. "I am the bone of my sword."

"Zabaniya: Ichor of Reverie" The response was quiet, but only a deaf person would miss it.

In an instant, Shirou wished he had gone deaf. The noise within the cave shifted from deadly silent to ear-piercingly high pitched. As if explosions had gone off right beside his ears, every single mote of sound had been converted to a penetrating screech that made his vision fuzzy and seemed to scramble his entire mind.

Thinking about anything but the noise was impossible but just as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared along with the bindings holding his joints.

Three bodies simultaneously collapsed onto the ground and Shirou finally managed to give a look at what lay behind him. The servants were on their feet, though they seemed to be only barely. Each one had dozens of lacerations and blemishes to their armour and the tips of their weapons quivered in fatigue. Just like Saber, they were both nearing their limit as well.

Even with the servant's in such a state, he couldn't tear his eyes off of Rin and Gray, who were motionless and bloodied upon the cold cave floor.

It was stupid, forgetting the opponent to care for the wounded, but his mind couldn't focus on anything else. The boy pulled himself up and scrambled across the ground, almost slipping as he came to her side. Examining their injuries was difficult. There was so much blood and not enough light to get a good idea beyond the fact that there were a lot of bites and scratches.

Clashes of steel erupted around him but they seemed dulled as he laid a hand on the girl's shoulder and traced her body to get some vital signs.

Rin was breathing and had a stable heartbeat. She was alive, a great weight off his shoulders. In terms of injury, most of both legs had suffered dozens of lacerations and bites in various lengths and depths. The same sort of injuries covered her hands and wrists, likely suffered while she tried to defend herself. The rest of her body had some injuries and there was even a bike in her neck which bled freely.

There wasn't much he could do for her without any materials or equipment. Less in the middle of a dark cave surrounded by servants but he could apply pressure to the neck wound at least. A quick look at Gray told him she would have similar injuries to Rin. They were alive, but they were dying and would die without treatment soon

Simply, they had been outplayed and overpowered. The attacks had come so fast, so unpredictably. Was Zabaniya some sort of blanket noble phantasm or was this servant using multiple phantasms by the handful?

There was a loud head-splitting grinding noise as something hot prickled the back of his neck. Recoiling, Archer stood guard over his back with his traditional weapons instead of the light-firing rapiers. Offering a parting glance at the boy as he deflected thrown weapons and killed shadow-animals, Archer grunted. "If you had the option, I'd tell you to take those two girls and get the hell out of here but I don't think any of us are making it out alive now."

"Light weapons were working but are no longer effective. We've lost the advantage." Saber's voice was rushed and on the edge of panic. She didn't say it outright, but he could hear the silent, "we're all about to die."

Shirou started to lift himself off the ground but a firm hand pressed him back onto his knees. "If you move away from Rin they'll kill her." The guidance from his future self was curt and concise but it spoke volumes.

He was the only thing keeping Rin alive. Because Sakura had ordered her servant not to harm him, they couldn't get to Rin without causing him direct harm. With Archer and Lancer protecting Gray, he could defend Rin with his body. Saber was left to handle everything at the front on her own

Shirou also understood why Saber sounded so shaken now.

She was the only one keeping the rest of them alive. She was holding most of the Assassin's back and keeping a large part of the shadow creatures from getting through. It also meant she knew exactly what their odds were.

Unable to help in combat and unable to aid medically, Shirou felt absolutely useless. The best thing he could do was protect Rin by staying put over her, but then how long would they last? Archer was wounded and unable to use his reality marble, Lancer had no weapon of his own, Saber couldn't use her noble phantasm without killing everyone and none of them could escape easily.

Something slammed into his back and forced his entire body down on top of the Tohsaka. Using his hands, he hovered his weight above her and used his head to peer back up at Archer.

Watching the servant fight, he could see the sluggish struggle he was going through. It was obvious he was in pain and barely able to fight, but he was doing his best regardless.

A copy of Assassin darted from the darkness into striking range and with masterful dexterity the servant of the bow parried a knife-slash and buried one weapon in the servant's stomach. Reaching behind them, they stabbed the same servant in the spine with their remaining blade.

A whisper, a barely audible ghastly taunt murmured from the female Assassin's lips. "Zabaniya: Delusional Poison Body."

Archer inhaled sharply and his eyes latched onto the body held within his arms. It was already far too late as the corpse practically exploded into a smog of violet which enveloped the servant's body.

A lick of violet gas spread toward Shirou and caught his leg. Searing, acid-like heat spawned instantly from the barest contact that it made. The pain scorched every nerve it touched into unbearable agony, he couldn't imagine what it felt like to inhale such a poison, even if they were a servant.

The volume of poison hadn't been that plentiful and it hadn't been all that long lived either. Within a few seconds, nothing remained.

Neither the servant, nor the poison. Only the pain and the bubbled, chemically burnt skin of his leg persisted.

Remaining as still as he could to continue protecting Rin, he looked over at her hand and watched as the bright crimson markings flashed and seemed to burn away from sight.

If it wasn't assured Archer had died after such an attack, the command seals certified it without a doubt.

Shouting seemed to erupt from around him, but Shirou couldn't hear the words being spoken. Shutting his eyes tight and clenching his fists, the weight of everything doubled.

Assassin wasn't even trying all that hard and they were falling like flies. They couldn't do a single thing to fight back and even when they succeeded against one, it could use an ability that turned them into a poisonous bomb. What could he even do? Even if he stood and fought back, his far more experienced version just died from a hidden ace Assassin held. How many more aces were hidden?

It was hopeless.

They would all die.

And it was because of him.

Because he had been captured, because they had come to rescue him, they had all walked willingly into their demise.

It was his fault, it was all his fault.

A noise of grinding steel merged into the sound of chopping flesh. The cry of "Saber!" rang out from Lancer, who mustered his strength with a yell that was cut short into a grunt of pain.

What could he do?

He had nothing, it was impossible. He was too weak and there was nothing he could do against an enemy like Assassin, not unless he sacrificed Rin.

He was so useless.

They would all die in this cave.

A heat bloomed from somewhere within his mind which quickly spread through his body. The clanging of forging metal resonated with his increasing heartbeat and the scent of smoke and rust prickled his nose.

There was no edge to fall off of, no wall to break through. Before, pressed on the edge like this, it had been as if the shackles holding him back were finally broken and something was released. This time, it was a gentle slip as if he were relaxing into a chair and letting that other person take control.

The words formed in his mind. It was almost as if they had always been there, but he only just uncovered them from the earth. They were redolent and intimate; an expression of his soul.

"I am the bone of my sword."

Something- no, someone, told him to stop but their voice was too distant to mean anything. Another voice from within told him to press onward and to release the reality he had chained within for so long.

"Show them the monster I witnessed, show them the creature you really are but refuse to accept. We both know what you're capable of, why don't you finally grow some balls and do something rather than rely on the strength of others."

"Steel is my body and fire is my heart."

The voice that exited his throat wasn't familiar. Almost as if he were being possessed, the voice held more ire, more confidence and more rage than anything Shirou had ever heard from himself.

He stood upright and turned at Rin's feet. Thrown weapons headed toward her body, but swords projected from his mind intercepted them. He could see Saber, forced to kneel by the knife buried in her shoulder. Ahead of her loomed the condescending facemask of the original Assassin.

"You watched heartlessly as the life drained from my eyes. I was terrified, not because I was dying, but because something like you existed. This world has been my home for two years now, it's time for others to experience this lonely hell."

Kiara's voice echoed hollowly in his mind. He couldn't feel the pain of her words, the anguish such a potential future might have brought. All that touched him was the bubbling anger and the growing heat that spread through his entire body as mana coursed through his body like blood.

He had been keeping a close eye on the sword-flesh in his brain since he first noticed it. He could see the consumption had accelerated even without injury and in such little time after activating this stage of his reality marble. Even that didn't seem to faze him as much as he would have expected. The odd complacency might have been harrowing earlier, but in the moment, being the only one standing among his dying friends, it seemed inconsequential.

"To protect the ones I love."

He needed power, the only possible chance they had was with him activating his full reality marble and wiping out every copy of Assassin.

The original Assassin held out one hand toward another copy of itself. Whatever the message was, the copy shifted back into the shadows. Were they purposefully letting him speak?

"I'll throw myself away."

He was nothing but a tool. He had been trained and developed for years to accomplish two goals. Beyond that, he was worthless. The best he could do was devote his life to saving others and protecting his friends.

"And disregard the cost."

Whether the sword flesh in his brain remained or not didn't matter. If he could save Rin, Saber, Gray and Lancer with his memories or his emotions it was worth it.

"With hands stained red and mind stained black, I'll tie our fates together."

Assassin threw out a hand violently and the shifting shapes at the edges of his vision disappeared much like the darkness of the cave itself.

"And save them all with…"

Blinking, he was somewhere new. Not a cave but outside facing a lonely doorway without a home to support it. Looking around, a deathly still field of grass surrounded him on all sides for an infinite distance in a sunless, bright-lit world. There was no anger there. In fact, he couldn't feel anything in the strange land.

A crackling noise from his front made him look down at his hands. Starting at the fingertips, his trembling hands were being steadily converted into sword-flesh. Clenching one hand into a fist, the sharpened digits produced blood as they contacted his palm. As the drops hit the grass below, they became a crystalline mass of steel.

A voice, far softer than the condemning one that spoke to him prior offered him words of wisdom. "You're entering a world of suffering." The voice was his own, a calm and guiding hand. "If you pass through that door, you'll never be the same person you were before. Nobody will ever be able to understand you and you'll force them away out of fear."

The majority of his hands were formed with steel. Unlike before, it seemed as if he could still move them despite the joints being metal. "Why would I force them away?"

"You'll grow tired of never being able to be understood. Few can comprehend what it is to be a weapon." The man paused and the marching crackle of swords was the only sound for some time. "Besides, you wouldn't want to hurt them. We're swords by nature through and through. Weapons like us only hurt more the closer others try to get."

"Is that why you pushed Rin away in your life?" The memories of the man named Archer were as real as his own and the sting which remained as he recalled the final parting conversation with Rin was practically fresh.

His wiser counterpart didn't answer immediately and the silence in his absence was damning. Shirou watched as the sword flesh consumed his entire hand and moved on to rapidly take over half of his forearm. Regardless of his decision, he would change permanently, that much was clear. It was an ultimatum, did he trade his body for power, or his mind and sanity? The swords consumed his arms to the elbow as he considered both options in silence.

Archer had been killed, Saber was likely to be next as she struggled against an unyielding frontline and then only Lancer would be the sole protector of Gray.

Shirou could protect Rin with his body, but there was no guarantee Assassin wouldn't just tear him off and kill her.

He needed power.

He had to save them.

He didn't care what happened to himself to make it happen, even if they never accepted him after it was done.

His left hand gripped the handle of the door and twisted. A soft click seemed to echo in an odd muffled way as if underwater and the way opened without him having to push or pull. On the other side was a barren wasteland, a certifiable sun-soaked plain of death.

With the door wide open, the heat and infertility began to invade the grassland he stood within, converting what he stood upon into the world of death on the other side of the door. Hand still outstretched, the boy watched as the sword-flesh receded and was replaced with normal skin.

In the next blink, he was back in the chilled cave staring down Assassin's flaming eyes. The rage returned with newfound doubled strength and the final line left his mouth."

"Unlimited Blade Works."


Allow me to let you in on a little secret. At the start of each chapter in the edit notes, the first word (or two or three) have been building the aria Shirou would use. If someone happened to re-read the chapters or has read it since they were edited, they might have noticed it and to those of you who have; good job. (Sorry AO3 readers, you didn't get the easter egg hunt.)

But it's finally happened. There is no balancing on the edge anymore, the commitment has been made.

Also, remember what I said about how easy life slips away when unprepared? Archer sure found out :

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the next one might be late (this one was delayed by two-ish weeks because of beta things.) because I've been spending most of my time writing a huge homebrew campaign for DnD, which I've recently found myself sunk into. Regardless, I'll keep chipping away and hope to give you something in a reasonable time.

As always, remember to follow, favourite and leave a review, every word means something :)