AN- well, things are heating up.

Now it's time for something completely different.

Oh yes- in other news, kudo's to DarkLord98, who has been making Command Seal images for me. (Alas, only for folks on SB or SV. No interlinking allowed for , after all)

Red Team Interlude

The woman barely looked up as her butler entered the room. She paid him no mind, and only continued her vigorous workout against the punching bag. Luvia enjoyed the exercise, and relished the chance to practice. Then, with a Reinforced kick she broke the bag- hitting it with enough force to rupture it and shatter the chain that kept it suspended.

The butler approached with his tray, and Luvia took the offered towel without a word of thanks. It was the typical way her training ended, after all, and her payment was enough thanks.

"Reginald, have you confirmed the validity of our suspicions?" Luvia asked the greying man, eventually.

"Yes ma'am. Your feelers in the Clock Tower have reported back, and we believe that this is not a hoax."

"It's true then? The Holy Grail War really is here?"

He nodded. "More than likely. It sounds like this War is abnormal in both its earliness and in its roster, but a War never the less. And you are a competitor, as the Command Seals prove."

"Ohoh! Excellent!" Luvia smiled triumphantly, looking down to her hand for a moment- as if checking that the Seals were still there. They were. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up, but if the Fuyuki Grail War truly had selected her as a competitor…

"Are you certain you wish to participate, ma'am? No offense intended, but the Edelfelt family did not fare well during the Third War."

Luvia flinched, despite herself. She didn't much like thinking about the fallout of the Third War in her family. There had been a reason her grandmother had left Japan and vowed never to return there again. "Well, I shall do far better than my ancestors did! Besides which, this is a perfect opportunity to get back at those damned Tohsakas! They are always picked, are they not?"

"Indeed, ma'am." The butler had given his warnings- he was obligated to do no more than that.

"Excellent! We must begin preparations at once! For one thing, the War has already begun, and I must summon my Servant! But I shall accept only the best! I believe I shall have to speak to my contacts, see what I can find!"

"And whom would you wish to Summon?"

She pondered for a moment. "I would love to have Saber. I think I shall try for a Knight. Didn't Malke of the Archaeological faculty brag that his division had gotten their grubby little mits upon a shard of the Round Table? Who knows? Perhaps I could even snag King Arthur, ohohoh!"

Luvia would summon the strongest Servant she could, and then she would go to Fuyuki City and repay the loss of face her family had been dealt during the Third War.

XXXXXXXXXX

Waver Velvet, now known as the Lord El Melloi II, had thought he had been dreaming when he first noticed the red pattern that adorned the back of his hand- the shapes different, and yet oh so similar. The last time he had seen such a sight was ten years ago, after all, in a time of his life he had thought he had left behind long ago.

And yet, here they were. Command Seals. It was a simple truth that couldn't be denied, even if Waver wanted to.

The Holy Grail War was back, and it had arrived fifty years early.

Waver had heard rumours on the grape vine- whispers of the Einzberns seeking new catalysts and of a braggart who had claimed to possess a Heroic Spirit before disappearing from the eyes of the Clock Tower altogether. He'd taken those rumours with a pinch of salt- but now, he wasn't so sure.

And when he found that the woman who was truly the head of the Archibald family also had a set of Command Seals…

Well, he knew that it was time for him to prepare.

Luckily, he didn't need to track down an artefact to use to summon a strong Servant. He still kept his first catalyst, sealed inside a box within his desk.

He couldn't be blamed for trying to bring back his old friend, one last time, could he? Waver knew that the Servant he summoned wouldn't be his Rider- not the idiot that laughed and joked with him, and taught him to pursue his dreams.

But- it would be close enough.

"Servant Rider, I am your Master… and also your humble follower." Waver spoke, formally, his head bowed before his newly summoned Servant. In a way, despite all these years he'd spent advancing as a Magus, Waver was still the same boy he had been back in the Fourth War. And… he was almost scared to see his Rider look at him without comprehension in his eyes. "You will likely not remember me, but I just want to say that it's an honour to have you here, and together we WILL win the Grail."

"Heh. Raise your head, Waver Velvet." The gruff voice spoke, saying the words that Waver had dreamed of but never truly expected. "Did you really think I'd forget about you? About one who had fought by my side, and pledged to stand beside me in Ionioi Hetairoi!?"

"R-rider?" Waver asked, looking up to the smiling man. He in turn offered out a beefy, muscular hand to his Master.

"Aye. It's me. You can stop gawking already." Then, with a massive tug he pulled the Magus to his feet- who could only beam happily at the Conqueror.

"It's only been a minute, and already I feel the years draining away." Admitted Waver.

"You look different." Isklander commented. "Why, I think you've gotten taller!"

"Idiot!" Waver yelled, whacking his Servant in a familiar display of affection. "I… I did it though. What we agreed. I told your story, and I became an excellent Magus."

The Conqueror hadn't doubted that he would, and said as much.

"Hmmph." A third voice cut through the conversation. Standing at the door to the workshop was another Magus, stern and blonde, with a blue coat and a dark hat. "So, this is your Rider from the Fourth War? He doesn't look like much."

"Oh, and who's this, Waver?" Rider asked, teasingly.

Waver rolled his eyes at his Servants antics. "This is Reines El Melloi Archisorte. I suppose you could call her both my student and my younger step-sister. I agreed to take responsibility for her family's collapse due to my own role in it."

"Ah! She looks like that Master we once fought! That arrogant fop who had a vendetta against you!" Triumphantly exclaimed the Servant. "What was his name?"

"Kayneth El Melloi Archibald." Reines answered sharply.

"Anyway, Waver, can I assume that she is to be a Master in this war too?"

Waver nodded his head, while Reines displayed the back of her hand as her own proof. "She has a Command Seal too. We have agreed to work together."

"That works with me! Any student of Waver is as good as a friend to me too!" And then he boisterously laughed.

"You really are a brute, aren't you?" She cut down his attempts at friendliness with the cold temperament of ice. "I do hope that the attitude of my own Servant is far superior."

Waver shared a private smile with his Servant. "Oh, I don't know. Servants have a way of surprising their Masters. Speaking of which, when are you Summoning?"

"Tomorrow. The delivery is scheduled to arrive then." Truly, it had been inconvenient trying to get a catalyst at short notice. It had been quite lucky that the Archibald's still had contacts in Greece, and it was even luckier the man in question claimed he could get it at short notice.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I have news. From the Moderator of the War." Reines reached into her pocket and retrieved a wrapped scroll, which she handed to her fellow Master. He took it and wordlessly read it, before spluttering in surprise at the contents. He then obeyed the wordless cue and handed it off to his muscular Servant.

"Ohoh? This Grail War is to be a team based event? How interesting! Perhaps I might even find some worthy allies in my quest to conquer the world!" Islkander laughed. "Truly, this is going to be enjoyable! I look forward to meeting the rest of this 'Red Team'."

XXXXXXXXXX

The meeting room was dark and ornate, much as the majority of the Clock Tower was. The meeting had been called at extremely short notice, but it had been deemed necessary once the news had been delivered by the moderator of Fuyuki. It was just luck that so many of them had been in London at the time of the summons, and so were in a position to attend.

This would be the first meeting of the Red Team.

Four people would be attending in total, and the first had arrived an hour prematurely. He felt it prudent to ensure he arrived first- if only so he could better slip into the role of 'leader'. He had already looked into the other Masters and was certain that he was the most senior member of the Clock Tower attending. Surely, he had the best qualifications to lead them on their expedition for the Holy Grail, and more importantly, a route to the Root?

He had truly thought pursuing the Root to be a fruitless endeavour, but now that a potential route was so close… how could he not try for it?

"Cornelius Alba." The second person called out, upon entering the room. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too, Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri." Alba replied with a cruel smirk. "Last time I saw you, weren't you still crying your eyes out because your precious sister and brother in law had died?"

Bram narrowed his eyes at the elder Magus. "How about yourself? Are you still sulking over your ineptness in comparison to a certain Puppetmaker?"

Outwardly, Alba did not react. However, were one to look closer, they would have seen his eyebrow twitch, ever so slightly, while the index finger on his right hand tapped anxiously against his leg. Bram noticed. "I am fine. In fact, I am joyous. Are we not close to a Miracle?"

"Indeed. This Heavens Feel… I look forwards to crushing the opposition." Bram offered his own cruel smile. Normally, the redhead was amiable, and tended to act like the prettyboy that he looked like, but he was still a Magus. One couldn't rise as high in the Mages Association as he had, without a willingness to push his rivals under the metaphorical bus.

"Oh my, are we arguing already?" came the sweet voice of a woman. Bram turned back, to see that the third Master of the Red Team had arrived. A pretty, young blonde in a blue dress (Though very different in temperament to another Master of the Red Team); she curtsied politely and gestured for Bram to move out the way. He narrowed his eyes but complied. He took a seat at the table, much as Alba already was.

"Haruhi Borzak, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

The Witch giggled demurely, her hand placed against her face so as to display her Seals and took her own place at the table. "Save your flirtations, Alba. We are here on business, are we not?"

"Indeed. I believe we should start this meeting, since the allocated time has passed, and I refuse to wait for latecomers." Alba smiled charmingly.

"Who says that you're leading the meeting?" Bram countered, with a pointed finger from his Sealed hand. "Is it not true that you are the only one of the three of us who has yet to Summon a Servant?"

It galled Alba to admit it, but Bram was not wrong. Alba was still awaiting his catalyst, whereas Haruhi had chosen to roll the dice and summon a Servant based on compatibility alone. Meanwhile, Bram took great pleasure in reminding everyone how quickly he had been able to scavenge his own regent. Alba did have to concede that it was a momentously difficult thing to obtain at short notice- the knife used to murder Julius Caesar himself.

"In terms of experience as a Magi, I am the most senior." Alba sneered.

"But in terms of combat, I believe I am superior, am I not?" a new voice interrupted. The three turned to the door- where the fourth Master appeared. Forte- an Enforcer of the Mage's Association, and a rising star at that. Both a strong combatant and a potent researcher, she was one of the few Mages to be trusted by the Enforcers, yet also one of the few Enforcers respected by the Magi. She walked the thin line between them, and she walked it well.

Rumours suggested she was being groomed for the position of Head Enforcer. Alba took little notice of rumours- especially since he was pretty sure Forte had started half of them herself.

"How nice of you to join us. Though, you are a little late." Haruhi noted.

"My apologies. My flight from France was late." With her crimson emblazoned hand, she gestured to the briefcase she was carrying. "I had to obtain my catalyst, you see?"

"And just who will you be summoning? I doubt they will nearly as impressive as my own Servant." Bragged Bram.

"Perhaps not as famous as him, but I believe my own will be far more capable of killing. Between the two of us, I know who will be claiming more kills in this war." Then, Forte opened the case, to reveal a long shard of metal.

"And where does that come from?"

"A guillotine." She replied.

"You seek an Assassin Class Servant, and not even that of a Hassan?" Alba scoffed. "I suppose it fits an uncultured savage, such as yourself."

"I assume that a Caster would be the only Class worthy of fighting for you, then?" She drawled.

Alba said nothing- but she had hit the nail on the head.

Haruhi cleared her throat. "As much as I love to see you fight amongst each other, perhaps we should get on with it? If we wish to win the Grail, then we cannot spend it all squabbling."

"You have a point." Bram muttered. "As much as I dislike it, we must work together if we hope to get our Wish."

Forte reluctantly agreed. "If only the other three were here too. It's difficult to talk strategy without knowing all our cards."

"The Archibald's are getting ahead of themselves if they believe they can afford to skip this." Alba snorted, eager to pin blame. In truth, the head of the El Melloi and the one appointed as her proxy until she came of age had been called away due to complications in sending the catalyst, and so had gone in person to retrieve the package and Summon the Servant in the place where they would be strongest.

Cornelius Alba was unwilling to share this information, however. It made it easier to sow division amidst his 'allies'.

"Now, I believe we should start discussion. And I would like to begin. Because I already have a plan." Alba interlinked his fingers and put them before his face to mask the smirk he was blatantly showing. "I think you are going to like it."