Kiritsugu POV
The night was young in Fuyuki City. Party goers and drunkards roamed the streets as they enjoyed the night. On a street corner was a small family-run ramen shop. The establishment was void of customers, though not on the faults of the owner. The shop was closing for the night and the family was cleaning their wares. Any respectable person would notice the hints and respect the rules of the establishment by finding other places to party.
The tables were empty, say for one man. The individual had barely touched his noodles and had gone through half his pack of cigarettes before entering the shop. That person was none other than Kiritsugu Emiya. After the events of the docks, he upped his defenses and redoubled his efforts.
Even so, his efforts fell short when the master of Lancer (Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi) and Kirei Kotomine were nonetheless able to infiltrate Einzbern's castle. He was relieved that Maiya and Irisviel came out alive and troubled for not killing the Lancer's master, only crippling him.
The overseer of the Third Holy Grail War also released the statement of suspending the war until Caster was eliminated. The task was an improvement towards his circumstances. In the time of the ceasefire, he could remove Lancer from the war. Kayneth was highly vulnerable due to the damage inflicted by the Contender pistol. It wouldn't take much to finish the man off; another bullet to the chest could do the trick.
He was supposed to be on his way to chase down Kayneth and finish the deed. Yet, he took a short breather to reassess a more problematic subject…The existence of the mysterious black knight servant.
Every servant, including Caster, was accounted for. The knight he conversed with was not in the bounds of the Holy Grail War, unless it was identified as a class he was unaware of. He was aware of the Einzberns' attempt to summon an eighth servant in the previous Grail War-the avenger. The spirit was potentially within that category.
He recalled his encounter with the knight on the docks to Irisviel. She revealed that no one seemed to notice the knight during the entire skirmish. The ability to almost perfectly hide itself was a fearful power that made the spirit harder to track and defeat using indirect methods.
Irisviel hypothesized the knight as a defensive measure by the Holy Grail or a participating master trying to get an upperhand by summoning an extra servant. Both theories were daunting prospects that upsetted his stomach.
He also revealed to her the proposed alliance presented by the knight. She left the decision to him as she would follow whatever road he chose to take. Her reply was comforting, yet left him hesitant on how to proceed.
Kiritsugu gazed at his bowl to take his mind off of his paranoia. The toppings were colorful meats-a specialty of this shop-that neatly settled on the noodles like a bed of flowers. His food was presented two hours ago. The broth had gone cold; the taste became stale.
Eating ramen with a pack of cigarettes on hand was a nostalgic pastime for the man, but there was too much to ponder on for him to enjoy the moment. He stared at his bowl, never to savor the taste of the noodles.
The owner of the shop, an elderly man, gave uneasy peeks at Kiritsugu. The assassin noted the chef walking towards him to conceivably confront him about the food.
The next moment, the chef passed him. Kiritsugu curiously followed the chef's line of sight to see an abnormally tall foreigner entering the restaurant.
"Got room for one more?" She energetically asked the chef.
"Well, if it isn't the new talk in the block. Here to eat me out of business like what you did to the place a few blocks from here?" The chef sarcastically jokes.
"I'll definitely pay." The blond foreigner reassured, smiling at the elderly man.
The chef scratched his head, unsure if he should allow another customer to enter past his closing hours. Then he noticed Kiritsugu occupying a table and shrugged. "Come on in. I think I still got some leftover broth and ingredients."
"Thank you." The blonde woman took a seat to his right side.
Kiritsugu was not amused by this sudden development. He didn't feel any murderous intent from her, but his instincts screamed of danger. If he wasn't the magus killer, he wouldn't have noticed the immense mana bottled inside the foreigner.
A dense dome of mana leaked from her temple. Was this her intimidation attempt? (AN: No, Alter doesn't know how to stop mana from leaking out of her body without the help of her armor.)
Her presence suffocated his lungs as chills drilled into his spine. Kiritsugu was not about to stay any longer to uncover the stranger's prowess. His instincts cried for him to nonchalantly escape as it was his best chance of survival. One of which he agreed was the best choice.
Silently, he reached into his jacket where one finger went for his wallet and another for his gun.
"What's your answer to our little pact, master of Saber?" The foreigner divided a pair of wooden chopsticks and twirled them in her hands. She kept her eyes on the chef, but her query was definitely directed towards him.
In a blink of an eye, Kiritsugu connected the dots. The woman, however improbable as it was, was the mysterious black knight. The height wasn't far off and her characteristics spoke of a well trained warrior of European descent. Even her parts matched the criteria of the armor worn by the servant he had encountered on the docks. For it to be female was shocking, similar to his reaction when Saber was also revealed to be a female.
Her wish to resume their previous conversation was of great concern. Slowly, he removed his hand from his jacket, carrying nothing in his grasp and placed it on the tabletop.
When he thought back to their exchange of words, his thoughts landed on a single phrase.
Are you not satisfied as things are now?
The statement bothered him to no end. Kiritsugu reasoned that he knew the answer, but having it asked by another person caused doubt to arise.
No, he was not satisfied with the current state of the world. That was why he participated in the Holy Grail War to have his wish granted. For the death of others and even to sacrifice himself, he would make the world he promised to Irisviel a reality.
To a degree, he was content to have a loving family. His wife, daughter, and assistant…They were everything to him.
"Why?" He asked the servant. "Why did you go to me?"
The servant raised an eyebrow at his query. She lightly pursed her lips before giving her answer. "Will you believe me if I say a voice in my head led me here?"
He frowned and gave no verbal cue.
"Thought so." She took a sip of her water to wash down her noodles. "Let's leave it as a coincidence."
Kiritsugu drank from his own glass-the noodles were too cold to be enjoyable and was pushed aside-and said his own piece. "Do you genuinely believe I am desperate enough to trust you for such an obscure reason?"
Alter brought the bowl to her lips and drank some broth. A resounding thud echoed across the establishment when she had her fill. "What will?"
He glanced at the kitchen and saw the chef leaving for the restroom. Right on cue, he lit a cigarette to take a couple of puffs.
"Give me a why and a who." A white whiff of smoke exhaled from his lips. The chemicals in his cigarette calmed his nerves, enough for him to not stutter in his words. There was an advantage inkling its way towards him. The spirit seemed to desperately want to finalize the deal, a weakness he could exploit for exclusive information. "Then, we will see."
The knight took another bite of noodles, debating on whether to accept Kiritsugu's request.
"I, as well, am not anguishing over the futility of our private talks." She shrugged her arms and swallowed some noodles. "Though it makes no difference to me…Sure, I'll tell you."
"If I have to say, then it's to change the future through my own two hands." She grinned. "To divert its original path of devastation and to have it progress anew."
"Hmm…I suppose a crucial piece for that future is my cooperation?" Kiritsugu confidently theorized.
"You guessed correctly." She applauded, chopsticks still grasped between her fingers.
"What's in it for me?" He narrowed his eyes, hoping to squeeze out any advantage he could get. "All I see is a parasitic relationship."
"I prefer mutual since I have no need for the Holy Grail." Kiritsugu sought to question her further, but she waved him off. "What more can you ask for?"
"The secrets you hide under your half-truths and pleasantries, what are they?" Those words slipped past his lips. The prospect of a servant forfeiting the grail was peculiar. The sole aspiration fighting in the war was to obtain a miracle. Why give it up?
"So needy, aren't cha." She finished her bowl of ramen and set aside the utensils. "Let me ask you in return, why do you seek out the grail?"
On the docks, Kiritsugu told the knight it was for "change", a response he knew would not satisfy the mysterious servant. Though it was unlike his typical mannerism, he would humor her request. Perhaps Saber's overabundance of chivalry was rubbing off on him.
"I want to change the world." He quietly iterated. "To make it the ideal, where humanity finds peace and salvation. Only the grail can turn this illusion into a paradise."
"That will be wonderful…A place where suffering is nothing but a myth." She rested her back on her wooden chair and blankly stared at the ceiling. "We are not so different after all. In the end, we both seek a happy ending."
"Happy ending?" Kiritsugu gave a light chuckle at the vague answer.
A happy ending could be anything. The grail was the ultimate wish-making vessel, whoever got their hands on it would surely get their 'happy ending'. It would grant Kiritsugu a miracle. Yet, did happiness equate to satisfaction of achieving his greatest goal? Was the sacrifice of both strangers and those he cherished a necessary hurdle to reach that goal?
…
…
Yes, he had come this far believing it as such. Deep down in his heart, Kiritsugu knew the answer but it was impossible for him to say it outright. For if he did, he might regret it and hesitate in enacting the necessary sacrifices to achieve victory-no matter how iniquitous it might be.
In a way, he too was striving for his own happy ending.
"Huh. I guess we are." He took another inhale of cigarette smoke.
"As like minded individuals, I have a request." The shaky comfort they constructed was shattered by the sudden demand. "I have come to believe the grail to be faulty-corrupted really. The moment you see the grail, can you give it up as well?"
Kiritsugu closely listened to her request, understanding her motives and morals. There was a twisted form of chivalry in her befitting of a Medieval knight. A characteristic that was too bold for a trickster and too prideful for an assassin.
"Trust me when I say the grail has been corrupted in the previous wars and will bring devastation as a price for a wish." Her unblinking eyes dug into his soul. "Knowing this, please give it up."
Kiritsugu's life was always a crossroad between two lesser evils. For a sacrifice of a few hundred to save a few thousand rather than vice versa, he would immediately choose the former. The numbers mean nothing unless the people saved outweighed the deaths caused by the act.
"Sadly no, I will not." Kiritsugu rejected the alliance. His life goal and years of planning led to his participation in this war. It was impossible to just discard his dreams from a couple of statements-be it true or not-from a stranger.
"A pity." She stood up to her full height, towering over Kiritsugu's slouched form. She turned away and left the shop.
Kiritsugu exhaled a large quantity of cigarette smoke to calm his nerves. Everything was a mess.
Yet, a war with eight servants instead of seven did not change his objective. The war could only have one winner; the new servant was just another hurdle to overcome.
Alter POV
How does a heroic spirit sustain their existence-to anchor themselves to the timeline?
The answer is simple…Mana.
How does a spirit acquire the necessary amounts of magical energy without a master and getting intimate? One solution is far easier if morals were not a concern.
"GAHHHH!"
"Shhhh…You are ruining my inner monologue." I brought a finger to my lips, showing my displeasure. A black tendril wrapped itself around the red-head's mouth, silencing his screams but allowing every other feature of his face to express the hellish pain I was inflicting on him.
The red-haired child killer was restrained on the stomach walls of the Lovecraftian monstrosity created by Caster. Sickly black tendrils protruding from my left arm impaled the man's limbs and at multiple points on his chest, sucking away his life force. In other words, I was eating his insides slowly to prolong his suffering and acquire mana. The sociopath deserved every last bit of it.
Am I mentally insane for inflicting this cruel punishment? Perhaps. Well, not like he could refuse my generous offer.
Next to him was Caster, suffering the same fate. Instead of screaming in pain, he was rambling about his love for Jeanne d'Arc and cursing my name to God.
There was also how I got inside the belly of the beast. That part wasn't important. What I would do to it and its summoner were. If the world would not allow me to change the course of events, then I would find a weapon that could.
Killing Caster in accordance with the plot was the first step. Eating food was a tedious source for mana, not much exists in a normal serving of food. However, switching food to humans and servants, the task becomes incredibly immoral and effective. Caster, his book, and his monster were the expired wagyu beef in Fuyuki City: outdated, rotten to the core, and very fatty in mana.
"God must witness this atrocity to grace us in his life." Caster crazily demanded. "He must see my love; my dedication; my Jeanne d'Arc-"
"You succeeded." A tendril dug deeper into his chest, forcing agonized cry from his lungs.
"You finally got my attention. Here is your reward." I raised my right arm and allowed the demon god inside me to take over the limb.
.
'Gonna need some mouthwash after this.'
'Devour!'
.
The arm squirmed and expanded in volume as the entity within hungered for mana. In an eruption of black tendrils, a mass of flesh crashed into the belly's ceiling and dug into the beast's flesh like parasitic worms. The violet tissue of the beast was quickly engulfed in black veins. The pulsating body decayed into gray dead meats as I drained the creature of its mana to fill my own reservoir.
Was I cruel? Yes, because it was justified.
"Stop!" Caster screamed, eyes boggling and trails of blood dripping from his sockets.
"Stay quiet and be the obedient failure that you are." Sensing my displeasure, the tendrils increased their absorption rate. Caster and his master's skin sunk to their bones, clearly outlining their skeleton. They were barely conscious, feeling every bit of their life sucked out.
Revenge was addicting, more so than drugs and sugar.
Soon, enough of the beast's flesh rotted and fell apart to allow outside air flow inward; I could see the artificial lights of the lamps and the smell of river water. Among the foreign light was a pillar of golden energy-the power of Excalibur.
"Time for my leave." My tendrils dislodged themselves from the withering but alive beast and its creators. A single demon god eye sprouted on a tentacle and fired a red beam, opening a sizable hole for my escape.
I safely escaped before Saber released her noble phantasm.
The power of Excalibur was no joke. The monstrosity-weakened as it was-was still a creature of immense size and strength. To erase it completely, not leaving a spec of dust on the pavement, was indeed a feat akin to miracles.
'If only it worked as Kiritsugu intended in the original plot.'
'...'
Agreed, thoughts of mine.
Phase two of my plans took a bit of patience.
Reality itself was against my interference, so as to not go against it, I would obtain the ingredients for my genius schemes in accordance to its rules.
Through the accumulated knowledge of the two voices inside of me, they formed procedures to aid my quest. They were not confident of its effectiveness, but it was our only chance to get what we desired most. Following their advice, I would strike when the core events of Fate/Zero have passed. It was the tactic of least interference by the world.
Hiding my presence using my armor, I stalked Archer and Rider as they battled upon the red bridge that connected the two halves of Fuyuki City together. The duel played out similar to a theater, the howls of a desperate charge (Rider) and the cries of a loyal retainer (Waver).
Only when Archer executed Rider with his prized weapon, Enuma Elish, did I make my move. Archer, succumbing to his ego and striving for entertainment, was showing mercy to the Waver, the master of Rider. He didn't noticed my presence until I was within arm's reach from his neck.
Waver was the first to react in terror. His petrified reaction was unwarranted since I had never wronged him…Strange.
On the other hand, Archer turned around too late to see his new opponent. With a sickening sound of cracking armor, Clarent tasted Archer's blood.
"How dare you, mongrel!" He angrily spat. His Gate of Babylon activated, summoning dozens of golden portals to strike me down.
In the next instant, cracks formed on the portals like those of a broken glass window. Milliseconds later, we were surrounded by broken bits of fading light.
"What did you DO!? You filthy abomination!" Desperation leaked into his arrogance when his Noble Phantasm failed to properly function (due to my own Noble Phantasm).
Archer raised Enuma Elish-the only blade he had on hand during his previous battle-to attack.
"Pathetic." I taunted the proclaimed King of Kings. Archer, or Gilgamesh, was not a warrior. He was a king who possessed treasures that hold unimaginable power. Take those treasures away, he would become the same mongols he mocked.
*Slash*
*Dropping Sound*
Therefore, my strike was faster-dissecting Archer's arm and releasing his hold on his prized weapon. Following my swing, my foot struck his chest, sending the golden man flying into the steel beams of the bridge and knocking him unconscious. I would not kill him yet; he was needed alive.
I picked up the dismembered limb with Enuma Elish tightly held in its grip. This weapon was central to my plans. What else to defy reality then an anti-world weapon. All that was left was the final piece; the key to unlock Enuma Elish's power for my own use.
"Oh, the kid." I surveyed the area to find Waver, scared shitless. I removed my helmet and motioned him to leave with my hand. "You should leave, things are about to get ugly."
Waver quickly picked himself up and left the scene, never looking back.
"Very ugly." I said to no one in particular.
Saber POV
Disbelief…
Distress…
Overwhelming emotions of dread choked my lung when I saw Berserker's true identity.
"Sir Lancelot." I exclaimed. "Why, my friend? You were esteemed as the greatest of the Knights of the Round Table! Why, then? How could you fall so low as to become Berserker-"
"ARTHURR!" Lancelot roared and wildly swung his sword. I blocked his swings, feeling each blow chip away at my consciousness. Every action he took radiated madness and hatred.
'Why did it come to this?' I questioned myself.
I remembered Rider's words. "You saved them, but you never led them. Enraptured by a false idol of the king who serves others…Only a little girl."
And understood the failings of my role as king. "Because I never led them…My ideals…My kingship…Did they drive you to this?!"
"ARTHUR!" Lancelot's screams were proof of my failures.
His rage was unquenchable as our blades clashed and his cries for death resounded across our battleground. A powerful thrust from his blade violently pushed me into a pillar.
'Did you hate me?...Did you hate me so much?'
I moved aside from his kick and pushed him away.
'The depth of your madness…Is that my fault, as well?'
This unyielding sorrow that carved out my heart will never stop unless I resolve my past. Even if my actions have caused you to go into madness…I must win.
"I will win the Holy Grail." I raised Excalibur and planted my feet firmly on the pavement.
*Shing*
A black sword flew from the shadows and protruded from Lancelot's chest. Our eyes widen by the sudden intrusion of a third party and the wound it caused.
A distant clapping and footsteps of a knight emerged into the light of the burning battlefield.
Blonde hair, green eyes, and a face covered in scars.
"You…" The woman I met in the mall stood there in full black metal armor. Everything deduced her to someone I knew.
"Me?" She sarcastically iterated and pulled her sword out of Lancelot's fallen body. With a raised leg, she kicked him aside. "What about me?"
Her voice…That sword…It can't be.
"Mordred?" I gritted my teeth, conflicted by anger and disbelief. Was she too changed because of me? "How did it come to this? Why did you strike down your fellow knight?!"
"Finally recognizing me, King Arthur?" She lightheartedly mocked. "I'll be sad if you forgot your dear old son."
"I have no child." I hissed. "I will never recognize you."
Mordred sighed and ruffled her hair. "What a shame…You were doing so well in seeing the error of your ways. Can't you tell what was wrong about our relationship?"
"I have wronged Lancelot in his days of life." I readied Excalibur for battle. "However, I see no wrong done to you, but my inability to perceive your deceit."
Mordred took her own stance. "Here I was hoping you uncovered my intentions for the rebellion…Guess not."
In a flash, Mordred shot forward. Our blades connected in a fiery of sparks, neither side showing restraint. The hesitation I showed in my duel with Lancelot had long dissipated; I returned her attacks in full force.
"You are a creation of Morgan, not my own." I solidified my intent.
"On that I am inclined to agree. Morgan was not the best role model, but she was still someone that raised me." Mordred laughed it off, accepting it…It was not the reaction I came to know. The emotions that led to our conflict for kingship over Britain was nonexistent.
"You have changed." I unconsciously commented. "No matter, I must win the grail."
Mordred raised Clarent for an overhand swing. I saw my chance and placed everything in an upward diagonal strike to deflect her blade to stun her on impact. Our blades met, and as predicted, Clarent was repelled and dislodged from her grip.
I had succeeded in executing my attack. However, the impact felt wrong; the resistance I expected was not there. It was as if-
"Got you." Mordred smiled, showing her teeth. She released her grip off Clarent at the moment of impact, expecting me to deflect it. I was open to her counterattack. In my moment of weakness, she extended her right hand towards my face. Swiftly, I redirected Excalibur and cleaningly sliced off her hand. That didn't stop her as the hand immediately reattached itself to her arm. My body was lifted off the ground and slammed back down. The concrete cracked from the impact and I could feel the blood rushing out of my skull.
"I gotta say, in all the King Arthurs I have met, you are by far the weakest in your resolve. Perhaps it was broken by Lancelot or was it Kiritsugu." She continued her ridicule and turned away.
"Stop!" I tried to bring myself back to my feet, using Excalibur to support my weight. "This is not over! It can't be over!"
"You can't win." She confidently exclaimed. "I got around four Arthurs under my belt."
"It is my duty as king to resolve the sins I have committed to my nation." I screamed at her retreating figure. "Something you will never understand."
*Slam*
A red beam slammed against my body, pushing me through a support pillar. I could taste the blood seeping out of my lungs.
"You picked up your sword and entered a war for your own self pity. And you say I don't understand!?" Mordred repeated, anger emerging on her face. She clenched her jaws and sounds of grinding teeth could be heard. "That I have not suffered?!"
Mordred raised me into the air by the collar of my armor.
"You know nothing of what I did!...Of what I endured." There was pain in her voice-of deep sorrow mixed within that rage.
"What happened to you?" I slowly coughed out.
"Nothing you will remember or understand." She dropped me like a ragdoll and went to Lancelot's fallen body.
"What did I not know? What was it that I forgot?!" I desperately called out.
"No one will ever remember." She sorrowfully confirmed and proceeded to rip Lancelot's arm off.
"What was it!?" I screamed.
Alter POV
The mana from Caster to empower myself and keep Archer and Berserker alive until my plan was complete; The noble phantasm of Archer to reshape reality; The arm of Berserker to invoke the power of Enuma Elish.
Those were the three steps formulated by the voices. With these ingredients, I could destroy the corrupted grail and allow this timeline to diverge from the Fuyuki City fire.
It was a hastily made plan, but it was all I had.
I walked into a large space where two individuals were dueling for the Holy Grail: Kirei Kotomine and Kiritsugu Emiya
Their battle was temporarily halted by my entrance. Kirei stood on guard, while Kiritsugu immediately recognized me.
"Will you give up the grail?" I asked again.
Kiritsugu tightened his grip on his pistol, never taking his eyes off of Kirei.
"I suppose not." I acknowledged his sentiment. I dematerialized Clarent and forcibly ripped off one of my limbs. By their surprised stares, my action caught them both off guard.
From behind me, a tendril brought out Lancelot's arm and Archer's arm that wielded Enuma Elish. I could see panic in Kirei's eyes when he noticed the golden armored limb of Archer.
Forcefully, the tendrils from my open wound drilled into Lancelot's arm, gaining control of my new appendage. The process was tortuous, like the fangs of wolves ripping out my eyes and tearing out every strand of my nervous system.
I endured the pain and grabbed hold of Enuma Elish using Lancelot's hand and watched as the weapon began to activate under Berserker's influence. The pain was amplified by a hundred fold and I endured.
"I will not ask for forgiveness, but know that this is for your own good." I faced the two humans and prepared to unleash Enuma Elish's power. At the same time, the black mud of the corrupted Holy Grail burst through the ceiling.
