Her knights are gathered. Today, the Round Table goes to war.

Merlin stands at her side, his expression for once serious. Before them stands a horde of twisted beasts, bearers of the dying curse of Vortigern. It has been years since she slew her uncle's transformed form, putting down the black dragon who sought to drown the world in madness and fire. His corruption seeped into the earth, poisoning the land, and the foes she now faces drew upon it, uncaring of the effect it had on them.

After all, they care for nothing.

They are the cast-off children of the World, the guides and guardians who betrayed their sacred duty to pursue their own debased hungers and lusts. Some of them appear fair, even now, whilst others are monstrous, but they are, all of them, hideous in her eyes.

For she knows them for what they are.

Heartless. Deathless. Soulless.

She sees through their illusive seemings, and they have no place in her kingdom.

This is the purge of Britain's Fae. This is the end of the Fair Folk's predations upon Mankind.

This is the correction of one of Gaia's failures.

Battle is waged, with blessed blades of cold iron against claws and fangs, steel armor against thick hide, and Merlin's spells against Fae sorcery. The air is filled with defiant and bestial screams, the scent of blood and other ichors all-consuming. She rides at the vanguard, wielding sword and spear against the enemies of Man.

By her order, there will be no celebration of this battle, no record left in the annals of her reign. The people need not know that this evil ever existed, in fact they must not, lest it returns. Because while the horde can be struck down here and now, there are many more sealed away in their place of exile. They must be forgotten, lest fools call them back. Looking upon the abominations before her, she finds it difficult to believe anyone would be stupid enough, but she knows better than to underestimate the depths to which humans can sink.

She, herself, bears the cursed blood of Vortigern. The dragon's blood flows through her veins, pulsing from her Dragon Core, while at her hip hangs Avalon, the scabbard crafted for her by the last of the faithful Fae. So few of the Fae remain who did not succumb to this madness, and their grief at the fate of their kind will kill them in time. From them she received her sword and scabbard, that she may carry the light of hope into the future in their stead.

In time, she will join the monsters in exile, and take up the mantle of the Wild Hunt's leader, tasked with tracking down any who escape to the World. Her armor will blacken, and the guise of humanity covering her draconic nature will fade. She will pick up another weapon, having lost all traces of her mortal life – except for her horse, her faithful steed who will follow her even there, his spirit preserved and remade into a great stallion of legend.

This battle is but a prelude of that time, of that duty. The King of Knights will fade, and the King of Storms will rise.

She accepts it. Someone must bear this weight, and there is a simplicity, a purity in fighting against such a foe.

The air shakes. She hears the buzzing of great wings, carrying the stench of rotten flesh, the screams of damned souls and the howling of their tormentors.

Her lips curl in distaste. That hateful bug, that pretender king, is here at last. He has emerged from his lair in the deepest woods and come to lead his followers' final charge. She spits his name, like the curse it is :

"Oberon …"

November 23rd, 2004 AD – Fuyuki City

Fuyuki at night was very different from the towns Rider remembered from her mortal life.

Back when she had been alive, the coming of dusk had been the signal for everyone to huddle inside their homes and wait for the dawn. Only a few settlements had been illuminated by torches, and those had been restricted to the walls and guard posts, where their utility warranted the risk of fire. In between battling invading armies, she had spent years fighting to make the nights of Britain less terrifying for her people, hunting down the monsters that haunted the darkness.

By contrast, Fuyuki was illuminated by thousands of electric lights, though the few shadows that remained looked all the darker by contrast. Rider was impressed : Humanity had come very far since her death. The people of Fuyuki didn't fear for their survival : they could instead focus on living. The buildings around them were suffused with the echoes of thousands of individual lives. In her time, Fuyuki would have been one of the largest cities in the world, yet in the current era, it was only a secondary town to the province capital. Truly, Humanity had prospered since her days as King.

And now, they were being hunted once again, preyed upon by a supernatural being that fed upon them in the night and against whom they had no hope of defending themselves. Knowing she was kind to this predator only increased Rider's displeasure at the notion.

She was in Spirit Form, acting as scout while Saber stayed near the Masters. Her younger self didn't enjoy being separated from her Master, but she was doing her job well, showing her experience as a bodyguard despite her amnesia. It was clear that she understood the tactical necessity of their acting separately, but Rider was convinced she was regularly complaining about it to Shirou over their link – since theirs was a direct one, Rider couldn't listen in on their communication unless they deliberately relayed it to her.

The freedom of movement brought by the transformation into Spirit Form was enjoyable, if a little disconcerting. The limitation of her senses, which was the reason Saber couldn't use it, was certainly severe, but she could still detect supernatural presences, which was what they were hunting for tonight. A Servant in Spirit Form could hide from all mundane perceptions and most supernatural ones, but not from the gaze of another Servant. Unless they had the Presence Concealment Skill, of course, but they were searching for Archer, not Assassin.

Subtle enchantments kept people from noticing the three beautiful teenage girls walking the streets at night – that, at least, was still as much asking for trouble now as it had been in her time.

To her mystical senses, the trio looked like a cluster of blazing stars. Rin looked like a constellation of her own, the jewels her Master carried on her person shining with their own radiance, and she could feel the one filled with Shirou's own od resting against Rin's left wrist. Saber's presence was dimmed, shining through the lingering darkness of the Grail that clung to her, like sunlight through tinted glass. And Sakura was like the sea, tranquil and serene, but with fathomless depths hidden beneath the quiet surface.

They were beautiful, they were dangerous, and they were using themselves as bait. No Servant could possibly fail to recognize them for what they were. It was a dangerous tactic, one no sane Master would have employed in a sane Grail War; but this wasn't a sane Grail War, if such a thing could be said to even exist.

Looking upon Saber's spiritual presence brought to mind her physical appearance. As Shirou had remarked when they had been summoned, Saber looked like a younger version of herself. Apart from the shift in coloration, she was the image of who Rider had been in the memories of her mortal life, with the growth of her body blocked by Avalon until she had lost it upon her joining the Wild Hunt, allowing her to mature to her current form. Her own change of hair and eye color had also happened then, as the dragon blood inside her was brought to the fore by the duties she had inherited then.

She mentally frowned. Of course, that was if it had ever happened. Her Master had been kind enough not to point it out, but Rider had still noticed the inconsistencies at the root of her very existence. If her ties to the Wild Hunt were the result of King Arthur's legend, then what did it mean that she did remember it ? Were those memories real, or constructs of the Throne of Heroes ?

She didn't regret the parts of her life that she remembered. As someone born strong, it had been her duty to fight for a worthy cause, and the defense of Britain had been the highest one she could think of. She had made harsh choices, yes, but such were inevitable in war, and better she bear the weight of them than others, or that more suffer as a consequence of her inaction or hesitation.

But were those the real thoughts of King Arthur, or something conjured into existence to fill the holes in her personality ?

Was she, herself, real, or as real as a Servant could be ? Or was she nothing more than a dream, given form by the corrupt Grail using pieces of the Fourth War's Artoria's memories ?

Those weren't pleasant thoughts. Since her summoning, she had tried her best to avoid them, focusing instead on the threats they faced and needed to deal with. Nothing took one's mind away from existential crises like world-threatening ones, she had found. Regardless of her origins and nature, she had a duty to uphold and people to protect. It had been enough during her life; it would have to be enough now.

And besides, thought a treacherous part of herself, now that she wasn't king anymore, there were other distractions she could pursue. The food certainly was better than anything she had eaten on campaign, and the Masters were far less uptight than her knights.

For now, however, she needed to focus on her mission.

Did you ever do that sort of thing for Kiritsugu, Saber ? asked Rider. Surely you are more familiar with this city than I.

Her counterpart shook her head. "No. I remained at Irisviel's side for most of the War, and we didn't go out looking for enemy Servants to fight." She looked at the buildings around them. "And even if I had, the cityscape has changed a lot since then."

It was only ten years ago, Rider pointed out. It can't be that different.

"Construction is a lot faster nowadays, Rider," said Rin. "Didn't the Grail tell you that ?"

It didn't. I suspect it wouldn't have even if it was working as intended; it's not as if such knowledge is particularly relevant to the War. Tell me, Master, do you expect us to find anything ?

"Not really. For one, Fuyuki is huge and we can't afford to patrol too long, or we'll be tired – and vulnerable – tomorrow. For another, Shirou's group is the one most likely to be attacked."

Ah. So her Master had seen it as well.

What do you mean ? She probed.

Rin sighed. "Shirou expects Archer's Master to try to kill him again. He's betting that now that he knows what to look for, and won't be busy fighting Lancer, he can block the ranged attacks and establish a dialogue with the opposition."

"He's an idiot," said Saber bluntly. "A well-meaning idiot, but an idiot nonetheless."

"Senpai will be fine, Saber," Sakura reassured the Servant of the Sword.

How do you know that ? asked Rider, curious.

"He's with Illya-chan," said Sakura, as if that explained everything. It didn't, at least not to Rider.

I don't understand, she admitted. She felt no shame in it : there were many things about Shirou Emiya she didn't understand.

Rin snorted. "Shirou's at his strongest when he's protecting or helping someone, Rider."

That sounds … naive, Master.

"Oh, I'm not talking about his determination. I mean that literally. When he fights to help, to save, someone, he can draw upon far more of the Dark Angel's power than normally."

Ah, yes. The 'Dark Angel'. Rider's Master had explained what she knew of her lover's nature to her during the last two days, silently talking with her at school while maintaining her image as a perfect student.

"Honestly, it's ridiculous," continued Rin. "Entire lineages of Magi have spent hundreds of years trying to enhance themselves, but I don't know of any of them that have reached the kind of raw power he stumbled into. We don't just need to keep him a secret from the Association because of they would try to capture him, you know : I genuinely think some of them would try to replicate what made him what he is, and more Greater Grails being constructed by amateurs is the last thing we need."

"They would never take Senpai," said Sakura, her tone dead serious. "I won't allow it."

"Obviously," added Saber. "These arrogant fools don't deserve to so much as touch him."

Rin sighed. "Of course you would react like that. Relax. Unless the entire Association decides to enforce it, he could escape a Sealing Designation pretty easily on his own. And even then, I have a feeling the secrecy of the Moonlit World wouldn't survive the fallout. Shirou wouldn't let himself be taken alive, not with the possibility they would try to make more of him."

Shirou really is quite strong, isn't he ?

Rider remembered fighting alongside many of her knights, all of whom had been great warriors, many of whom could've been kings in their own right. She may not have seen Shirou fight with her own eyes, but she had experience judging someone's strength, and becoming the King of Storms had only furthered her insight.

And those instincts told her Shirou wasn't just strong, he was powerful. Yet none of his allies seemed to react to that the same way so many had reacted to her in life.

Tell me, she asked, just to make sure what she already knew, are you afraid of him, Master ?

"Afraid of Shirou ?" Rin shook her head. "No. Obviously not. I know him : he would never do anything to hurt me or Sakura. Afraid for him, though ? Always. No matter how strong he is, Saber's right : he is an idiot. I'm always afraid he'll get hurt if I don't keep an eye on him."

"He's with Illya-chan, Lancer and Berserker," Sakura reassured her sister. "He'll be fine."

… Ah. Shirou really was loved, wasn't he ?

She was a bit jealous.

Illyasviel was enjoying this, thought Lancer. Despite the seriousness of the situation, her Master was treating this night walk through Fuyuki more like some romantic rendezvous than the hunt for a deadly foe.

"Onii-chan," asked Illyasviel while pointing toward one of the closed stores lining up the street they were walking up, "what's that ?"

"That's a kaiten-zushi, a special kind of sushi restaurant," replied the young man. "You sit down around a conveyor belt, give your order to the chefs and they prepare it in front of you before putting it down."

Illyasviel tilted her head to the side. "What's sushi ?"

Lancer smiled as Shirou launched into an explanation of the nature, origins, and variations of sushi. The two Masters were interacting like siblings, just like they had since the previous day. It was both heart-warming and more than a little disturbing. Having seen how starved of affection her Master was, Lancer could understand why Illyasviel was acting the way she was. But Shirou's first encounter with his adoptive sister had been when she had tried to kill him, yet it was obvious he held no grudge, and either he was the best actor she had ever seen or his efforts to be a good brother for her were sincere. He reminded her of Kai, her own adoptive brother, although he had never indulged Artoria as much as Shirou was willing to for Illyasviel.

Since Lancer had already been observed by Archer during the fight at the park, she was staying in her materialized form, guarding Illyasviel while Berserker acted as a scout. Her Master could bear the additional prana cost easily, especially with her recent operation. Already, Illyasviel's body was in much better shape, thanks to the copy of Avalon Shirou had implanted inside her (and the fact that the young man had managed that still amazed Lancer). The half-homonculus was a lot livelier, freed from the pain that had been her constant companion for years. Her smile was no longer bitter and cold, and fit her appearance a lot more.

Lancer would do anything to protect that smile. Regardless of the circumstances with the Grail, she would not allow this second chance she had been granted to go to waste.

They had been walking for over an hour now, and were walking through a commercial district in the eastern part of town. The sun had set, and there were few people around. Those who were out moved quickly, and frequently looked around them with worried expressions.

"Raiga-san was right," said Shirou with a frown as he looked at the deserted streets. "There's something wrong."

"What do you mean ?" asked Illyasviel. Of course, Lancer thought. Her Master had little experience being out in public : she had no point of reference for how things were supposed to be.

"There should be more people around," explained the young man. "Raiga-san told me the level of violence and street crime has been rising for the last few weeks, and it seems the population has caught onto that. A few of these stores should be open even now, yet there isn't a single one doing business – not even someone making inventory."

"I didn't hear anything about that on the T.V.," said Illyasviel. "Just something about the people found unconscious, like Leysritt said."

"Let's just say Fuyuki's police department has a habit of concealing the numbers of mundane crime from the public," said Shirou, his expression darkening. "I think it's a result of Magi heavy-handedly suppressing the evidence of the Grail War for centuries, though it could just be plain laziness and incompetence. People being found unconscious without any visible wound is too weird to hide, though. With the number of witnesses, the citizens would wonder why it didn't make the news."

"Such behavior in peacekeepers is disgraceful," said Lancer.

"I agree. Why do you think I'm working with the Fujimura Group ? They may not know the reason why it's needed, but they have served as protectors of this land for decades."

Illyasviel fell silent. Lancer could feel her considering the impact her family's pursuit of the Grail had had on the people of Fuyuki, beyond the obvious damage such as what had led to her brother being orphaned and possessed by the Dark Angel.

They continued to walk down the street, Illyasviel eventually breaking out of her funk to ask her brother more questions. Suddenly, however, Shirou stopped, gesturing for the others to do the same.

"Wait," he said, frowning. He was looking at the shops lined up to their right. "Something's wrong."

"Onii-chan ?"

"There should be a grocery store there – MOVE !"

Lancer pulled Illyasviel close to her, while out of nowhere, beams of scarlet light suddenly appeared in the air in front of the group and slammed into Shirou, focusing at a single point on his chest. The attack burned through the layers of Reinforced clothing he wore, but was weakened enough doing so that when it stopped, Shirou only sported a small, perfectly circular burn on his plexus.

The injury was still deep enough that Lancer thought she could glimpse the bone under the burned skin, but already Avalon was at work regrowing it and closing the wound. With a grunt, Shirou summoned the sword he had fought Lancer with and swung it in a wide arc in front of him. There was the sound of glass shattering, and suddenly a figure stood in front of them, as well as two more stores on their sides – including a grocery store.

The figure was that of a European man in his late forties, dressed in overly elaborate robes of red and silver marked with thaumaturgic symbols. Most noticeable, however, was the halo of what appeared to be mirror shards hovering around his head.

Despite having been exposed, the man remained utterly still. His face was slack, completely devoid of expression. This wasn't just composure : it was as if something important, something vital, was missing from him.

How shameful to be caught by surprise like this, thought Lancer ruefully. It seemed the loss of the warlord aspects of King Arthur's legend to her Rider counterpart had impacted her skills in this area.

"An enemy Servant ?!" shouted Illyasviel at her side.

"No," said Shirou grimly. "That's not a Servant at all."

Despite the presence of the enemy right in front of them, Lancer couldn't help but steal a glance at Shirou when she heard him speak. His voice was deeper than usual, close to a growl. His hands were tightened into fists, and his jaw was set.

Shirou Emiya was furious. And this time, unlike when he had 'seen' what had been done to Illyasviel, he wasn't trying to hold it back.

"Shirou," asked Lancer, calling Rhongomyniad to her hand in its rapier form. "What is it ?"

"An abomination," spat Shirou before burying his greatsword into the enemy Magus' chest without any hesitation.

At Lancer's side, Illyasviel blinked in surprise.

"Well, so much for talking things out, I suppose," muttered the white-haired Master. Like Lancer, she was a little disturbed by how easily her loving brother had killed another human being – until the true face of their foe was revealed.

With the same sound of glass shattering that had accompanied the destruction of the trap, the outline of Shirou's victim vanished, revealing what Lancer could only describe as an articulated humanoid doll.

"Lancer, stay near Illya !" Shirou shouted before switching to mental communication. Berserker, prepare yourself. There are more around us. Rin, we've been ambushed. What about you ?

We're fine -

No, Master, cut in Rider's voice. There are also enemies approaching our position.

She's right, confirmed Saber. I can sense four presences drawing near.

Don't waste Command Seals, then. Everyone deal with their enemies with the current groups, and we'll reunite after that. Be careful. This was a Magus, or it was before it was made into this. There is no telling what abilities the others possess.

Do you think those are linked with what happened at the Animusphere Castle ? asked Rin.

… No. At the very least, the one I destroyed was too ancient to have been created there. I couldn't read too much of their history, but I saw enough to know that we're dealing with human Magecraft here, no matter how repugnant.

What do you mean ?

This isn't Necromancy as the Association defines it, but the end result is practically undistinguishable. We cannot rescue them, and there is not enough left of who they were to continue if their master is killed. The only thing we can do is put them to rest.

As the conversation continued, Lancer finally saw the other enemies coming out of the side-streets. There were four more, coming from all around them. How had they missed all of them ?! No, the answer was obvious, she realized. They must have used the same Magecraft as the one with the mirror-shard halo to hide. And if they were revealing themselves now, then either their concealed positions hadn't given them a good angle on the group, or their methods of attack were unsuited for range entirely.

She raised Rhongomyniad. No matter what the case may be, she wouldn't let any harm come to Illyasviel.

Rider's blood sang with savage joy as she fought.

Both Saber and she had sensed the attack coming. The ways in which they had reached that conclusion might have been different, due to the different Skills the Grail had bestowed upon them as part of their manifestation as Servants, but they had both reacted appropriately. Without the need to speak, they had fallen into their respective roles, Saber acting as a guardian for the two Masters while Rider went on the offensive, using her superior mobility.

Unlike what had happened to Shirou's group, their attackers didn't try to hide behind magical veils. Instead, they converged on their position from all around them, emerging from shadowed alleys. All around them were buildings higher than the greatest castles of her era, which her Master had described as office buildings. They should be completely empty at this hour, which certainly was convenient.

The closest one was dressed in rags and carried no weapons. It came at them openly, rushing down the street, its body twitching and growing in the last stretch of its run. Finally, with sickening sounds of bone crunching and cloth and skin tearing apart, it erupted into a huge beast, covered in fur and with huge, yellowing fangs and sharp claws.

"A werewolf," said Rin disbelievingly. "Someone actually thought turning themselves into werewolves would get them to reach the Root."

The beast was ten meters from reaching the Masters when Rider materialized directly in front of it and kicked it in the chest with enough strength to send it flying. It crashed into a nearby building, sending cracks along the glass and almost falling inside.

Even in her plate armor, Rider could move faster than any human could dream of. She leapt after the beast before it could recover from the impact and rammed Gungnir into its chest. Blood flowed from the wound, but Rider felt only disgust from her weapon. It had supped on the vitae of countless monsters, but this foe was devoid any spark of true life, an image frozen in time lacking even the magical impetus of typical undead entities. Shirou was right : this wasn't necromancy, for all that it also bound the dead to servitude. Somehow, it was something even more vile.

For all that it bled, the creature was lifeless. Breathless. Fearless.

This, this was what Rider lived for. This was the purpose of her strength, of her very existence.

There was no doubt, no questioning. When she fought monsters, she knew she wasn't one.

The spell anchoring the Doll's unnatural existence finally broke under Gungnir's assault, and Rider was left holding a humanoid figure carved of wood – which promptly erupted in black flames and turned to ash as her Noble Phantasm's energies consumed it.

From the moment she had attacked to the beast's demise, barely five heartbeats had passed. The other Dolls launched their own attacks immediately, not showing the slightest hesitation at the speed and ease with which their cohort had been dispatched.

Back on the ground, Saber plunged her blackened blade into the skull of a woman in a ball gown wielding a device vaguely shaped like a spear. The sight of what the corrupted Grail had made of the Holy Sword made Rider want to retch, even if she couldn't deny her counterpart knew how to use it. That sword was not Excalibur, and she was going to ask pointed questions to Shirou about it as soon as they were back home.

A third enemy, this one made in the shape of a man in a hooded black robe, brandished a wicked dagger and plunged it into his left forearm without any hesitation. Immediately, Rider sensed offensive Magecraft flow from the Doll and toward Saber. It was a curse of some kind, triggered by the pain it had inflicted on itself, using its own body as a proxy for the intended target. She wasn't sure how any sane Magus could have come up with such a technique, but the simple fact she could detect the curse from this distance spoke of its power.

Saber grimaced as the curse hit her. She was of the Servant Class with the highest Magic Resistance, but this has still hurt her, and her movements became slower as she struggled against its effects. With a kick that damaged the windows of the building she had impaled the beast on even more, Rider propelled herself toward the curse-making Doll and plunged Gungnir through its head before it could cast another spell, killing it instantly.

There was only one attacker left, and Rider wondered what spells it had used to be able to walk through town without drawing attention. The gender of the Magus that had been used to make it was impossible to determine, because over half its body was not made of flesh (or the illusion of flesh) but plants, all woven together into the shape of a human body.

It moved a hand made of roots and leaves, and -

"Sakura, watch out !" Saber screamed.

The ground next to the Masters exploded as a two-meters tall carnivorous plant reared over Sakura. The Doll had grown roots under the pavement, closing in on its prey without them noticing. Only Saber's instincts had given them any warning, but it was enough.

Sakura gestured with her hand, and a black ribbon burst out of her shadow to intercept the attack. It wrapped itself around the monstrous plant, and, without a sound, compressed itself back into its two-dimensional form, swallowing the plant into itself.

Rider had no idea where the plant had been sent to, but she doubted it would survive for long. Sakura's Imaginary Element was one of the most arcane branches of Magecraft Rider had encountered, but the girl had managed to turn it into a very effective tool, capable of serving both as defense and offence. By surrounding herself with those ribbons, Sakura was all but immune to attacks without the power or element to bypass her shield, and they could cut through more or less anything that was not specifically warded against her Element. Her Master's younger sister may not have the sheer breadth of skills and spells available to Rin thanks to her being an Average One with an excellent mind, but Rider judged she could be far deadlier on the battlefield.

Which, given her devotion to Shirou, probably was as much the result of Sakura's own efforts as of her thaumaturgic affinity.

With the plant dealt with, Rin moved to attack its controller. She drew one of the gemstones she carried and threw it at the Doll, speaking an aria in a language Rider thought sounded like the Goths' as she did so. The jewel struck the enemy in the chest and detonated into a fireball powerful enough to break the spell and turn the underlying construct to ash, as well as melt the pavement in a three-meters area. Rider whistled in appreciation : that kind of firepower would have solved a lot of problems in her time.

Silence descended on the battlefield as the last enemy was dispatched. It was Rin who broke it first, taking deep breaths as she recovered from her effort :

"That's that dealt with." Her next words were both spoken aloud and through their telepathic link : Shirou, what's your situation ?

We're fine here, Rin, Berserker heard Shirou answer her Master's sister over the link as she tore off the head of the opponent she had been facing with her claws.

With the Magecraft animating it broken, her enemy reverted into a humanoid wooden construct. In life, it had been a wielder of holy magics, using the words of a variety of human scriptures to channel energies that were anathema to the worst of the beasts of the Moonlit World. Berserker had taken care of it in Shirou's stead, not knowing how its Mysteries would affect the young man but knowing her Master wouldn't want him to be hurt.

Good. What the hell was that, anyway ?! These things wielded wildly different branches of Magecraft ! Just who are we dealing with here ?

I don't know. As I said, reading their background was difficult. The accumulated experience is ... warped.

To her right, Shirou was finishing off his own opponent, a figure clad in a suit of magical armor that had ultimately proven no match for his oversized sword. This was Berserker's first time witnessing her Master's lover fighting, and while she could tell he was still holding back, it was still an impressive sight.

Her eyes were still covered by her blindfold, but she could perceive her surroundings in other ways, and Shirou was hard to miss. To her, he was a towering figure wreathed in shadows, with two great wings spreading from his back and a blazing light inside his chest where Avalon's power was concentrated. In his hand, the sword with which he had fought her off right after her summoning was cutting through the magical protections of another puppet, sundering the Magecraft animating it.

Further back, Lancer had stayed near Illyasviel, covering the smaller Master and letting Shirou and Berserker take the fight to the enemy. The enemies had been focused on them anyway, but not a single stray attack had even come close to the half-homonculus, who had used her silvery familiars to aid her brother a few times. Their surroundings bore the marks of the fight, with several front windows shattered and doors broken in by attacks that had missed their target. The shrill sound of several security alarms was hurting her ears – they would need to move quickly, before they were discovered by the police that, no matter Shirou's lacklustre opinion of them, was bound to show up sooner or later.

The battle had been brutal, but its outcome had been decided the moment the initial ambush had failed. Truth be told, she wasn't sure a successful first strike would have been enough to turn the tide, which begged the question of what exactly the puppets' master had sought to accomplish here. She knew her tactical sense wasn't the greatest : even before being afflicted with her now E-ranked Madness Enhancement, the battles she had fought in life had either been one-on-one duels or one-sided slaughters against weaker foes. Yet something still seemed wrong about this entire situation.

That feeling was proved correct mere seconds later, when a beam of energy burst from one of the nearby rooftops, aimed squarely at Shirou's head. But this time, the teen had been prepared for it. Acting on instinct, he had begun moving before the attack had even really started, and placed his sword in its path with milliseconds to spare. With a grunt, he managed to endure what Berserker felt confident was Archer's Noble Phantasm with only being driven back a few centimeters. Relieved he wasn't going to be hurt this time, she turned her head toward the source of the attack -

Berserker saw the enemy Servant, and froze. For several seconds, she remained immobile, her expression masked by her blindfold, her mouth moving silently in shock.

The figure that stood on the rooftop was small, about the same size as Illyasviel, and distinctly feminine. In her hands, she held a bow that radiated power. She was different from when Berserker had last seen her – teeth and claws, thoughts burning, everything consumed by endless HUNGER – but she couldn't possibly mistake that aura, even blinded.

"… elder sister ?" she breathed, trembling under the weight of emotions she didn't understand.

Archer – her sister – turned to look at her, then, without a word, she – her sister – turned her back on the street and leapt away – her sister was going away …

Without thinking, Berserker jumped after her. She heard the voices of her Master and allies, but didn't pay them any attention. Her sister was here. She … she had to follow her. Had to find her. Had to meet with her. She didn't know what she would do then; the Command Seal was still holding up the madness born of her sin, keeping her from understanding her own motivations. All she knew was that she had to find her sister, that she couldn't simply let her get away.

Sakura, Berserker just took off after Archer without a word ! What's happening ?

It's her sister, Senpai. Archer is one of Berserker's sisters, and she won't let her get away ! I could use another Command Seal to call her to me, but with what I'm picking up of her thoughts, she would immediately take off again !

Don't waste it, then. Lancer, take Illya and meet up with the others. I'm following Berserker !

It's obviously a trap, Onii-chan !

Of course it is. Which is why I'm counting on you all to break us out of it when it closes !

You absolute -

Not now, Saber. Stay near Rin and Sakura with Rider and make sure they are safe. Talk to me, Sakura. What do you know about Ber- about Medusa's sisters ?

I saw something through the Dream Cycle, Senpai. I think … I think she killed them. That's why she was in so much pain when I summoned her.

The Gorgon sisters were Divine Spirits, Shirou. I did a bit of research while you and Saber went to meet with Fujimura. Medusa was the youngest of the three, but also the only one who aged. Eventually she turned into a monster, and killed the other two before Perseus slew her.

Do you know what their names were, Rin ?

I think … Euryale and Stheno. I think Stheno was the eldest, and Euryale the middle one ? I'm not sure.

Any intel about their battle capabilities ?

I don't – they shouldn't have any. That's more or less their entire legend : that Medusa had to protect them from men, until she became a monster and killed them. If they were summoned, I would expect something like what Illyasviel told us happened when the Einzbern summoned Angra Mainyu in the Third War : a Servant almost useless in fighting.

Well, they must have gotten some upgrades.

I remember that they were beautiful, Senpai. To the point where men were entranced by their beauty.

And of course she went after the sole male of our group. Whichever of the two sisters we are dealing with, her Master is smart.

It won't save them.

Shirou, we are supposed to convince Archer's Master to stop the War, remember ?

I do remember. I just don't care.

… Alright. I trust you. Try to get Archer's contract once you kill her Master, okay ?

Berserker shook her head, trying to silence the voices in her head. She had to focus. Her sister was here. Her sister … !

By and large, Shirou was not someone given to anger. There were only a handful of times in his life he had lost his temper : when he had confronted Zouken, when he had fought the shikome underneath Kumamoto City, when McRemitz had attacked his friends because she had been ordered to, when he'd seen what had been done to Illya …

… Alright, so maybe he did have something of a temper after all. Something to keep in mind, especially considering what he was capable of. The point was, right now, he was well and truly furious.

The sight of the Dolls – the name had come to him the instant he had seen the first of them, for that was what they were – had already infuriated him enough to abandon diplomacy and go straight on the offensive. Even if it was to keep the Grail from destroying the world, he refused to allow the continued existence of these things. He had seen how their souls were bound to the marionette bodies under the image of their living selves, seen the way they shivered with constant agony at being forced to endure this half-existence, enslaved to the one who had done this to them.

All of the Dolls had been Magi in life. It was unlikely any of them had been good people; Shirou understood that Rin or Lord El-Melloi II were rare exceptions among those who practiced Magecraft. But no one, absolutely no one, deserved such a fate. To be reduced to a puppet dancing on magical strings, all agency stripped away from you … It brought back to mind some of the darkest visions Shirou had received from the Dark Angel's memories, impressions of the time of exile that had followed the final battle of the Heresy that his conscious mind refused to recall with any clarity.

And now this. Using Berserker's sister as bait, playing on the trauma of Sakura's Servant, all for a prize that didn't exist. Unless he got a really good reason to change his mind, Archer's Master would not survive the night.

Despite Berserker's B-ranked Agility and Shirou's best efforts to keep up with her, the two of them were always just a little behind Archer as they leapt from rooftop to rooftop across a good quarter of Fuyuki. The Archer Class was supposed to have a high Agility, but this was ridiculous – they should've either caught up or lost her by now. As the pursuit continued, Shirou saw the reason why : Archer was making use of prepared spells that bent space to allow her to cross great distances instantly, using a branch of Magecraft resembling what had been used to create the Dolls. There were limitations : as far as Shirou could tell, she could only use them to move in straight lines, and the fact she left broken objects behind every time indicated her supply was limited.

But it was still enough to lead them on a merry chase across the eastern half of Fuyuki, with Archer staying too far for him to get a good look at her or her weapon. For a moment, Shirou worried Archer was going to lead them to the Kotomine Church, but she veered southward instead, reaching the city's outskirts. They passed through the residential area at the edge of town, and eventually reached the forest to the south.

There was a house there, at the very edge of the woods. It was built of red bricks and three stories high, and clearly very old and ill-maintained. Shirou had heard stories about that house in school, ghost stories shared by children to scare one another. Apparently, groups of teenagers had broken in every so often on a dare, but Shirou doubted anyone had done it recently.

After all, the entire building was covered in Bounded Fields. Some were standard spells to keep civilians away, but there were others whose purpose Shirou could only guess at.

Without looking back, Archer walked through the door, leaving it open behind her. Within seconds, Berserker burst through, quickly followed by Shirou.

Then, for the first time since the pursuit had started, Berserker stopped moving. There was no sign of Archer anywhere. They stood in a hallway, with stairs leading up and doors leading to the sides. A thick layer of undisturbed dust covered everything, there were spiderwebs in every corner, and the only light source was the starlight making it through the broken windows, though Shirou's Reinforced eyes could see perfectly well, and Berserker was of course unaffected.

It was the very picture of a haunted house. Shirou could understand why children had come here as a test of their courage, even if he couldn't help but think someone would have gotten hurt sooner or later. The isolation of the house also explained why Archer's Master had chosen to use it as his lair.

As if on cue, the door slammed shut behind them. Shirou wasn't some hapless civilian in a horror movie, however. Without missing a beat, he Traced his sword, infusing the blade with power before striking. The door was pulverized, but instead of revealing the outside, it instead showed another hallway, identical to the one Berserker and him were in.

Well.

Interesting.

Omake : Maintaining the Masquerade
or
The Overseer's duties

"… police have blocked access to both streets and haven't made any further comments. We'll continue to inform you as more -"

Kirei sighed and turned off the television. While he was glad that the War was progressing, the actions of his former apprentice and her allies made more work for him. He may have betrayed most of his duties as Overseer, but until the Grail was activated and the Age of Chaos let loose upon this world, he still needed to go through the motions of preserving the Moonlit World's secrecy. Failing to do so might draw the attention of factions with the assets to interfere, after all.

He pulled a thick tome from a nearby bookcase and sat down with pen and paper. The book was titled Preserving the Masquerade for Dummies : A thousand ways to explain away the Supernatural. It had been published a few years ago, disguised as a resource for role-playing enthusiasts, and Kirei personally knew of a dozen individuals in the Church who used it for inspiration.

Quickly consulting the index, he opened the book in the section dealing with supernatural combat in urban settings. A checklist marked the most urgent steps to take before fabricating the story for public consumption. There had been no eye-witnesses to the two fights, but there were still cameras whose records would need scrubbing. A few phone calls to his allies in the police would take care of that.

Now to find an excuse that fit the damage. The chapter had an exhaustive list, each entry describing the type of damage it could be used to justify along with details as to how use it. It was really quite well done. Out of curiosity, Kirei had once tried to find out who had written it, and found the publishing company was indirectly owned by the Mihashira Conglomerate and headed by a Magus family in Europe who had given up the pursuit of the Root in favor of more materialistic goals.

Let's see, for the market street … Ah, yes. Gang warfare. A reliable staple, and the situation across Fuyuki's underworld had grown tense as the Grail's influence over the land grew. He could use that one for the commercial street : one of the sub-categories described how broken windows could be explained as attempts at intimidating the shopkeepers into paying protection money. In his case, that would have to be blamed on oversea criminals recently arrived in the city : the local Yakuza group were too well-known and respected.

It didn't quite work for the broken window on the third floor of an office building and the melted asphalt, though. He would need something else for that. A gas explosion, perhaps ? … No. Nobody would be that stupid.

An artisanal firebomb mixed with exotic chemicals that had gone off prematurely ? Now that might work to explain the damage to the road. He could also combine that with the gang warfare. As for the broken windows on the third floor … there. Improvised catapults. Yes, that would do.

Kirei had the foundation of explanations. Now he needed to write down the details, and then transmit them to the appropriate contacts. He glanced at the clock wistfully – he doubted he would have time to sleep before dawn if he wanted everything to be set up in time for the morning news.

The things he did for his God.

Artoria Pendragon (Alter), King of Storms

Class : Rider

Strength : A
Endurance : A+
Agility : B
Mana : A+
Luck : D

Noble Phantasm : The Wild Hunt
Rank : EX
Type : Anti-Army

Skills :

Riding A+
Mana Burst A+
Magic Resistance B
Charisma E
Leader of the Wild Hunt A

AN : Cliffhanger ! But don't worry. I promise the next chapter will come out soon. Before the end of the month if all goes as planned, as a matter of fact. It will be shorter than this one, and will also be the final one of this stretch I vowed to dedicate to this story. I have to admit I am looking forward to spreading my creative wings beyond this story, so to speak.

As you probably noticed, the introduction vision/flashback of this chapter was formatted differently than the others. After seeing the story on a smaller screen, I realized that the blocky aspect of the other scenes of that type could be annoying. Which of the two do you prefer ? Should I continue as I have done before, or use this format from now on ?

Speaking of that vision ... still more hints that this is not the canon Fate universe, with many more to come. That particular vision was inspired by the latest story arc on the Japanese FGO server, combined with me needing to develop the character of Rider.

To answer Samin01, who asked me to make the Dark Angel inside Shirou "a big shot in WH40K" : to clarify, the Chaos Marine in Shirou hails from the Roboutian Heresy, not mainstream Warhammer 40000. But yes, I already have the name and backstory of that character completed, I intend to reveal it at the appropriate point in the story, and it very much is a big shot.

As usual, I look forward to your reactions, comments and suggestions. Oh, and the omake isn't canon this time. The concept of a reference book to help keep the Masquerade is just something that's been bouncing around in my skull for a few years now, and this seemed as good a place as any to finally write it down.

Well, that's all for now. See you again (hopefully) soon !

Zahariel out.