Fate Stay Night

Unlimited Boob Works

Chapter 17 – "A Queen's Gambit"

"AHH! SABER – LOOK OUT!"

Shiro heard tires screech and horns blare all around them.

Strictly speaking, Fuyuki City wasn't big enough to have a second rush hour. But as the bars closed and night clubs let out, there were enough cars for the roads to become moderately congested, at least in the downtown area, and as they wove in and out of traffic, Shiro was sure at every moment that they were about to be killed.

Saber, for her part, drove furiously hard, coming up on the back of a tractor trailer until they were so close Shiro was sure he could reach out and put his foot on the bumper, then veering over at the last second, into the next lane, her taillights forming tracers, leaving ghostly after images as they veered around it, then back into the next lane again.

They passed into a tunnel, its yellow lights rushing by overhead, bathing them in a strange glare that was neither day nor night as she took the ramp up and around, then out onto the freeway, where she let the throttle roar, pulling the handlebars back until the front tire rose, coming up into a wheelie which she held for no reason at all other than sheer exuberance as they blazed their way down the open road.

"UWAH!" Shiro yelled as the front wheel came back down, thudding as it made contact with the pavement.

"Oh come on – don't be such a big baby", Saber said, squeezing the throttle, enjoying the way that rolling the handle back made him grip her tightly, clinging to her waist each time the engine roared.

'I won't let anything happen to you. And besides, you're got Avalon, so you'll be fine."

They made their way south, then took another road west, out of the city. As Shiro watched over Saber's shoulder, he could see the red needle on one of the gauges creep up, then slam back down every time she changed gears. He realized its purpose was to tell her when to shift, but Saber never once looked at it, instead doing everything by sound and feel.

It was impressive to watch her, the way she rolled the throttle back, then let go, squeezing the clutch as she kicked up on the transmission, then applied the throttle again, working up through each of the gears in succession, then back down again.

By now the ground around them had begun to grow hilly. As the road rose, he had the disconcerting sensation that they were about to fall backwards, and topple off of it. But Saber eased the front brakes on gently, leaning forward, keeping them glued to the pavement as they crested the hill, then plunged down. Suddenly Shiro's fears turned in the opposite direction, as it seemed the bike was about to run away out from under them, but she stepped down lightly, using her heel on the rear brakes this time, keeping everything perfectly coordinated.

As they came up to a rural stoplight, she brought everything to a gentle halt, flipping on her turn signal, which blinked politely as she took her booted feet off of the pedals and placed them on the ground.

Shiro wasn't sure what he should do. He'd only ridden on a motorbike once, when Miss Taiga had offered to give him a ride up to school, and it was an experience he'd sworn he would never repeat. He wasn't sure if he should also put his feet down, or remain sitting as he was. Perching on the seat felt precarious, so he carefully lowered his legs until his sneakers met the concrete.

Immediately a thrill went through him, his mind suddenly awash with a surge of shared memories. Looking down, instead of handlebars and gauges, he saw the shape of a saddle, with Saber's hands holding the reins, and the proud arch of a horse's neck, its long mane billowing as he felt the sensation of the wind as it teased its breezy fingers through his hair.

" . . . Is this what it was like . . ?" he asked, his voice an awed whisper.

Saber reached down and used her elbows to press his hands firmly against her waist.

"Oh no. That was nothing – compared to this . . ."

The light changed, and they revved off.

By now the sun was coming up. Slowly, colors emerged from the gray haze, the pale yellow of Saber's hair, the pebbled black texture of her leather jacket. Rounding a corner, the sound of the bike's engine, which until then had been so noisy and loud, seemed to grow faint as the world around them lit up, expanding until it could no longer be bothered to take notice of the two small figures on the strange wheeled contraption as they sped along below.

Saber turned off onto a small gravel trail, which she took some ways down until it ended at a grassy field. Here she cut the engine.

Shiro looked around, blinking for the brightness. Try as he might, he could not find a single thing he recognized about the place.

"Has Saber been here before?" he wondered.

Off to the right, a small stand of trees gave a sense of drama, where they seemed to form a stage. It was here that Saber went to park her motorcycle. With a sweep of her leg she kicked out the stand, leaning it over delicately, fussing over it with all the care as if it were a real horse. And then she turned.

"Now, Master, I suppose it's about time we got down to business.

Suddenly she appeared before him in full armor. Shiro was taken aback. There could be no mistaking this was Saber, but this was not the Saber he knew. Instead of shining silver, the plates were all black, veined with red, their edges adorned with sharp flanges and protrusions. Her hands were especially cruel, with spikes over the knuckles, and at every joint of her fingers. Over her face she wore her visor, its vented slits hiding her eyes, for it had been fully restored, and covered both of them.

"I knew it", he thought. "I knew she could have replaced it any time she wanted", he said to himself. Funny that out of everything, this was the one thing he latched onto.

In her hand she held her black sword, the poisoned Excalibur, and she waved it lightly from side to side, making sure that she had his full, undivided attention. For a moment she studied the blade, letting it lean forward, testing the balance.

And then she let out a long sigh.

"Human beings are such frail creatures – " she said, turning the sword over to look at the flat of the blade, then glancing up at the point. "So fragile – so delicate – so utterly unsuited to seek out their own happiness – "

And here she made a broad sweep, bringing the cross guard up beside her face as she looked down along the length of the edge.

" – In the end, they want to be TOLD – told what they want – told what to think – told what to do . . ."

Shiro swallowed hard, not at all liking the sharp tone that had come into her voice.

"Are you afraid of me . . . Master?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Win the war. After all, that's how wars stop, isn't it? When the fighting stops – when there's nobody left. I'll do it your way. I'll only fight the other Servants. I won't kill the other Masters. After all – Servants don't really die – you said so yourself – we just go back to the Throne and sleep. Who knows – maybe we'll see each other again, in another Grail War?

'I promise I won't try to undo everything – I won't repeat my previous mistake. But this time – I will have my wish. I will rule as King – as *I* see fit. You can rule alongside me. After I'm dead, you can do as you like with this body of mine – if we Servants even leave bodies – or relics or artifacts – catalysts – whatever it is that we leave behind. Or if you die first, I'll bury you, in a glorious tomb, and come to visit you every day.

'So what do you say? Will you oppose me – Master?"

Shiro opened his mouth to speak, then paused to consider.

"I don't exactly – oppose you – it's just . . . suppose that I did?"

"Oh, I have ways of securing your cooperation – " she said, touching her hand to her chest. At once the black plates disappeared, leaving her standing in just her silk dress, with all of her armor gone – all of it except for the steel visor, which she still stubbornly clung to, covering her face.

"So long as you agree with me, I promise not to hurt your friends. I'll even let you see them – from time to time. Even Illya. Just – don't get too friendly with your visits . . ."

Shiro took a deep breath.

"So what do you say, Master – do you agree? Will you go along?"

"And if I didn't?"

Saber pointed her black and red sword at him threateningly, then held it up, letting it disappear.

"I already told you – I have ways of making you comply – Master . . ."

As she rushed towards him, she put her hand up beside her face. In a twinkling her visor disappeared. When she leaned in close, he was certain she would tower over him – so overwhelming was her presence. But as she drew near, he remembered that she was shorter than he was, and the sight of her looking up at him with her golden eyes was even more disarming – and more dangerous.

Shiro moved to take a step back, but his heel met with a rock. Unable to move, he pitched backwards.

Saber's golden eyes contracted. She reached for him, but it was no use, he was already falling away from her, so she lunged, falling with him, cradling his head in her arms.

"OOFH!"

The ground thoroughly knocked the wind out of him.

"Are you all right?" he asked weakly.

"Idiot – " she scolded. "I'm fine. But you should be more careful. I won't tolerate anyone damaging my prize – "

Shiro looked up at Saber. She sat astride him, with her legs on either side of his waist. Her breasts were not especially large, but leaning forward like this, with only the thin silk fabric of her dress to restrain them, they hung down, nearly touching him.

Saber leaned forward, lowering herself until her forehead rested against his, their faces nearly touching. At her side, her hand opened, and her fingers flexed.

That was when a blue streak came hurtling in, lodging itself in Shiro's chest.

"UWAUGH!"

Saber whirled furiously.

"ARCHER! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?"

Rin screamed. But Archer's voice was calm, coming in a low hiss.

"If you take it from him now, he'll surely die – "

For a moment Saber glared. Then she leapt off of him, dashing to the side, where she jumped on her motorcycle, revving the engine, and rode away, across the open field, leaving Shiro gasping before them.

"What is WRONG with you!?" Rin demanded, as Archer bent over him. "What the HELL were you thinking!?"

"What was I thinking? I just saved US from losing the WAR", Archer shouted back. "If she'd gotten her hands on Avalon, she'd have been invincible!"

"That doesn't give you ANY right – "

"No – " Shiro protested weakly. "Archer is right – he only did what needed to be done – "

Rin looked at both of them, then stalked away fuming.

"He'll be fine", Archer said as they rode in the car on the way back.

Rin looked at him doubtfully.

"I didn't hit anything vital – "

Shiro was lying in the back seat with his head in Illya's lap. They had bandaged him up as best as they could. Archer did most of the work, wrapping the bandages over his arm and around his chest, with a gauze pad on either side to cover the place where the arrow had gone in and where he had taken it out.

Sakura leaned on the headrest as she looked over the back of her seat, watching Illya smile softly as she ran her pale fingers through Shiro's fiery red hair.

"See? Right as rain", Archer said the next morning as Shiro held his shirt up to examine the wound. Already it had closed, and most of the red was gone, leaving only a slightly sunken divot.

"Feeling better?" Rin asked, after Archer had shut the door. She had been taking turns with Illya and Sakura, each of them watching him in shifts. They had agreed that if anything should happen during the night, whoever's turn it was would tell the others at once, and she fully intended to do so, but secretly it made her glad that Shiro had woken up on her watch, and she decided to let herself gloat about it, if only for a moment.

Shiro sat up, letting the covers fall away, and looked off to the side absent mindedly.

"What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, pausing to gather his thoughts.

"It's just – I've been thinking . . ."

Rin tilted her head to the side questioningly, then moved to sit on the bed.

"Go on . . ."

" – I realized – I've been thinking of Saber as a Servant for so long – I'd forgotten that in her own time, she was a King – she was a brilliant tactician, who fought wars, and led armies. Compared to running a kingdom, I'm sure it's probably nothing to her to run circles around us . . ."

Here he paused. Without thinking, she reached out, putting her hand over his where it lay on top of the covers.

"It's okay . . ."

"She's so strong – I just realized – she could have easily won the Holy Grail War. All this time – I've been holding her back . . ."

"Shiro . . ." Rin said soothingly, tightening her fingers. "I don't think you should see it as you've been holding her back – it's more what you've been holding her back FROM –"

"What do you mean?"

Rin swallowed hard.

"She's become a monster – "

Shiro shook his head.

"Saber was a King of Knights – she doesn't want to negotiate truces or manage alliances. For the first time in a very long time she's doing what SHE wants to do – maybe for the first time ever in her life – certainly for the first time since she pulled that sword out of the stone. I just can't help thinking – maybe it's better this way . . ."

They were interrupted by the sound of the door as it opened with a click.

"What's going on?" Sakura asked suspiciously, peaking around the corner. At the sight of Shiro sitting up, with Rin sitting opposite him, with her hand on his, her eyes went wide.

"You were SUPPOSED to TELL us!" she shouted accusingly as Rin snatched her hand away.

"SHIRO!" Illya shouted, ignoring them both as she ran past Sakura, draping herself across him as she leaned over the bed, leaving Sakura to glare angrily as Rin gave her hand a guilty look.

It was later – much later – when Shiro Emiya stood starting at the doors to Fuyuki chapel on the other side of the fenced churchyard. He looked cautiously to either side, not really certain of what he was looking for. Was it Assassin? He had attacked them once here before.

The howl of a motorcycle called to him as it sped past from somewhere on a distant freeway, and he wondered if it was her. Lately, every time he heard an engine, he thought it sounded like her. His eyes drifted across the yard to the door. And then he sighed.

"I guess we're back here again . . ."

Lately it seemed like the entire space of his life was getting smaller, as though a cord were being drawn taught, confining his whole world to only a few times and places. Fuyuki Church – Emiya House – the Tohsaka Estate – Ryudo Temple – the Matou Residence – Castle Einzbern – the field from the night of the fire . . .

Shiro let out another sigh. The old gate creaked as it opened behind him, and then creaked again as it swung shut.

"I guess there's nothing else for it –"

Carefully he reached up, and knocked on the door.

"Why – Shiro Emiya – " the old priest Kotomine began, his eyes and smile full of warmth. "This is an unexpected surprise – "

"I DON'T trust you – "

Shiro cut him off. Kotomine lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes. For a moment he regarded the young boy who stood looking back at him, with his blue and white jacket over his blue and white shirt.

"Come along – I think it's best you step inside . . ."

"Does Rin know you came to see me?" Kotomine asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Tohsaka – er – Rin – uh – " Shiro said, tripping over his words as Kotomine looked on, clearly enjoying his predicament.

"I didn't tell her . . ."

The old priest sharpened his greedy smile.

"You should be careful. It's dangerous to keep secrets from the woman in your life – "

"It's not like – Rin and I are – we're just – "

Kotomine turned and laughed.

"Well no matter. You came to see me – I take it that means there is something you would like to discuss?"

"Yes . . . it's about the Holy Grail. And Saber . . ."

On the other side of Fuyuki City, a certain shadowy black figure was also out on a clandestine errand. For a moment it examined the rooftop, searching for anything amiss. When it was satisfied that there was nothing stirring besides itself, it slowly dropped down, landing with a quiet thud.

Getting to the roof had not been particularly difficult, but it had to be done carefully and quietly, without anyone's notice. Slowly it made its way past the machinery and the duct work and the exhaust vents, over to the scene of the scuffle from the night before. There was evidence that the site of the battle had not gone unnoticed.

The peeled up tiles had been removed, and neatly stacked to one side, a tarp being spread over the damage they'd left, with several of the spare tiles around the edges to weight it down, serving as a hasty patch until a more secure repair could be made. Some of the overturned bits of junk and old machinery had been righted again, looking just as messy as before, but their positions were slightly altered.

Would it still be here? It was possible it had been found. But that which is unknown often goes unlooked for.

The shadowy figure bent down, reaching in between a series of snaked conduits, whose metal piping slithered towards one of the industrial air conditioning units. Something glimmered.

Reaching out a gloved hand, it took hold of the shining object, which made a scraping sound as it came away from the pebbled roof. For a moment it studied the strangely curving knife, admiring its sinuous blade. And then it tucked it inside its coat, and turned to leave.

" – As you might imagine, as the Overseer of this war for some years now, I've had some time to look into the subject."

Shiro nodded appreciatively, grateful for the cup of coffee that was set before him.

"I can tell you that the Grail, in its earliest sense, was not an especially venerated object. The earliest chroniclers didn't even bother with capitalizing the word – they just wrote it as 'gralle' and left it at that. The original term meant a receptacle or container. It didn't necessarily denote a cup – it could also describe a bowl or basin, or even a dish or platter.

'The Greeks used the word 'krater' with a similar purpose – originally a large vessel for mixing things, typically wine. In the earliest sources this gralle is often listed as part of a collection of similarly mysterious objects, including a silver platter with a severed head, and a lance that drips blood.

'Eventually the concept of the 'San Gralle' or Holy Grail as we call it was introduced. This is the object that we think of when we mean the Cup of Christ. That Cup may very well still exist, and there are a number of sources of reasonable provenance that argue for its current whereabouts.

'Later still, the term 'San Greal' was re-parsed, bastardized into 'Sang Real', and purported to mean a hidden bloodline that traces all the way back to Christ – an interesting theory, to be sure, and the kind of thing likely to be of interest to a group like the Mages' Association, with their obsession over bloodlines and aristocracy. But the earliest sources for this only go back to the Fifteenth Century.

'Whatever the case may be, none of these objects appears to be a candidate for the Holy Grail of Fuyuki City."

Shiro sat back, fighting not to frown at the taste of the bitter, dark liquid.

"What is it then? The Holy Grail of Fuyuki City – wherever did the Mages' Association come up with such a thing?"

Kotomine closed his eyes, then opened one of them, in a manner reminiscent of a fox, making Shiro suddenly question a great deal about Rin, and where she may have gotten some of her other charming mannerisms from.

"Well, the best indication seems to be that they made it up – "

"MADE IT UP!?" Shiro shouted, standing up with such force that he shook the table, and spilled half of his coffee in the process.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, boy – the Grail is real enough – it's a real ritual, with tangible power – frightening power, enough to alter the flow of history and the course of world events in some cases. But that doesn't mean that it had an especially noble beginning –"

"But why on earth would the Mages' Association ever DO such a thing?" Shiro said, soaking up the coffee with a napkin.

"The purported reason is to reach 'The Root', which equates to a kind of Enlightenment or Nirvana. A noble sentiment, but a dangerous one – there are no shortcuts on the stairway to heaven.

'But even if that was the original purpose, it seems to have gotten lost somewhere along the way, at some point in time. Another, more subversive theory is that the whole thing was devised as a way to keep the members of Mages' Association in line. Not an unreasonable assumption – Mages tend to be an unruly lot at best. They're not known for a willingness to answer to authority. Left up to their own devices, their squabbling could quickly devolve into all out war.

'But if they were given a Quest, some common goal to unite them, even if it was to fight against each other, they would be much easier to manage and contain. After all, the Holy Grail war has rules – it has conventions – traditions – and so it may well be that the rulers of the Mages' Association did what clever rulers in many times have done. They gave their people a Crusade.

'Another theory, more subversive still, is that the whole thing was simply a means to derive power. Not very eloquent, but plausible, and not unheard of. Sorcerers frequently look for ways to build and store energy – often in some sort of magic relic or talisman. Traditionally it's something like a ring or wand. It can also be a jewel, such as the Tohsakas prefer, or in this case, a cup. One can argue that the whole system of magic crests is really just a mechanism designed to do the same thing, passing magic circuits down from generation to generation."

"But what does that have to do with what happened to Saber?"

"I mentioned that Sorcerers use talismans. And in legends, those talismans are often cursed. For a time, the ritual of the Holy Grail War ran just fine, and things went more or less smoothly.

'But then, someone summoned something that they shouldn't. Until that time, only good Heroic Spirits had been summoned, and the ritual of the Holy Grail War was supposed to make it impossible for a Servant to be summoned whose alignment was evil.

'But the Einzberns, growing impatient after several losses, decided to tinker with the ritual in an effort to turn things in their favor. The result was that an evil Servant was summoned. And not only were they evil, but they were also outside of the seven normal classes."

"Who was the Servant that the Einzberns summoned?"

"His name was Angra Mainyu."

"Angra – Mainyu? I've never heard of him."

"Most people wouldn't. He's part of Persian folklore, and the Servant the Einzberns summoned wasn't even the real Angra Mainyu, but instead the result of a botched ritual conducted by a group of Zoroastrians. It's ironic, really – one group of fools commits an atrocity in an attempt to circumvent their own guilt by leaning on an arcane mythology, and another, even bigger group of fools summons it as a result.

'More ironic still, the Servant that the Einzberns summoned wasn't especially strong. He was actually quite weak, and was defeated rather easily. But when he was cast into the Grail, he polluted its contents. Since then, the Grail itself and the entire ritual that goes along with it have been corrupt – though one could argue that a ritual based on sacrificing Seven Servants and their Masters was doomed to become corrupt from the start –"

"And you mean the Mages' Association knew all of this and kept the whole thing running anyway!?"

"It would seem that the hierarchs of the Mages' Association fall squarely in the camp of those who prefer to make clean the outside of the cup, and not trouble themselves with how dirty it may be inside. But that is another matter."

"I think I'm starting to understand – but still, how does all that explain what happened to Saber?"

"When Saber was defeated by Assassin and cast into the Grail, all of her regrets and her resentments went with her. Those negative emotions in turn called out to Angra Mainyu."

"Saber's regrets?"

"Yes. To most of us, the legend of King Arthur is remembered as a kind of golden age – the era of chivalry – even if it is only partly historical, and many of the events of Arthur's life are shadowed by myth, and not remembered clearly. But when Arthur died, the kingdom collapsed. And the Dark Ages returned . . ."

"But Saber told me she had given up on trying to change the past?"

"Well, she may have also had other reasons – "

"What reasons?"

"You're her Master – shouldn't you know?"

"Well – I – "

Here Kotomine burst out laughing.

"Bwa – ha – ha – ha !"

"What's so funny!?" Shiro demanded.

"I'm sorry, it's just – your father, Kiritsugu, summoned Saber during the last Grail War, but the two of them didn't get along. They hated each other. They both wanted the same thing, to create a world without unhappiness or suffering, but their methodologies were totally different. They could never agree, and so in the end, they accomplished nothing.

'Then you come along, and summon Saber, but the two of you can't do anything because you're both so terribly alike. It's quite laughable, really – "

"Well I'm glad I could serve as a source of amusement! I'll be going – "

"Wait, my boy. I really am sorry. And I can assure you that I am in no position to judge. In the end, Saber and I are in the same position."

Shiro's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Kotomine turned to the side and gazed up at the stained glass windows, their colors dark without the light of day to illuminate them.

"Do you know how the legend of King Arthur ends?"

"Well, yes . . ." Shiro said. He knew the story, but he didn't like to repeat it, even if it was all centuries ago. "Arthur is betrayed, and dies. And then the kingdom of Camelot falls –"

"Camelot didn't fall because Arthur died – he actually defeated his archenemy Mordred at the Battle of Camlann, though he did receive a mortal wound in the process. Camelot fell because after Arthur died, the remaining nobles set to fighting among themselves in an effort to see who would become king, because Arthur left no heir.

'So you see, Saber's problem is my problem. I inherited the role of the Keeper of the Holy Grail War from my Father . . ."

Shiro looked at the old priest questioningly.

"I had a wife once, and I loved her. But now I don't think I will ever love or marry again.

'The Holy Grail War needs an heir . . ."

"Are you sure you won't let me drive you?"

Kotomine asked as he closed the Church door behind them. All around the sky was dark. The air was cold, but it was a refreshing chill after so much time in the close, old dark building. Overhead, Shiro could make out the shapes of the winter stars.

"No, I wouldn't want to trouble you –"

"It's no trouble – "

"Besides, I prefer to walk. It helps me think."

"And what will you do if you're attacked by one of the other Masters?" Kirei asked, giving him pause

"I hadn't thought of that", Shiro laughed, smiling as he scratched his head. "I guess I'd just have to fight them off!"

"A brave boy. Very foolish. But brave."

"Yeah, I guess . . ."

"And if that Master called their Servant?"

Just then, the night sky exploded in a sea of flame.

Shiro stagger stepped, the force of the blast carrying him forward. He was still reeling when another noise came hurrying after it – a low, guttural growl.

"M – M – M – R – R – R – W – W – R – R – R – A – A – A – R – R – R – R !"

It echoed between the buildings, clearly coming from somewhere far away, yet still carried with it an immediate sense of danger. For a moment Shiro was sure he could feel the damp warmth of the creature's breath on the back of his neck. At a loss he looked to Kotomine, whom he still regarded uneasily.

"I think you'd better let me give you that lift."

"What are you doing with HIM!?"

Rin shouted accusingly. Shiro wasn't sure if her question was directed at him or Kotomine, or if it was prompted out of anger or concern. But there wasn't time to worry about it, as a second explosion rocked the night.

"Damn it! Get him away from that tanker truck!" Caster shouted, holding up her staff. "And hurry! Do you have any idea how much magic energy it takes to make an entire town sleep through something like this!?"

All around them the ground was awash with pools of liquid flames, mixed in with patches of snow, as if the whole world had come to an end and was about to perish in an apocalypse of fire and ice. Looking around, Shiro could see the wreckage of the holding tanks, where the salvage yard drained vehicles of fuel and oil.

Somehow the dragon had inadvertently attacked one of these, setting off a chain reaction as the noxious mixture ignited, turning the shell of the tank into a giant bomb that butterflied when it ruptured, its central body unrolling, folding flat, while hurtling the caps at either end like giant projectiles, flinging one into a nearby building that stood at the edge of the junkyard, totally demolishing it, while it cast the other far out over the water, sinking in the harbor of Fuyuki Bay.

Next it turned its attention to a small tanker truck, evidently perceiving its hose and flammable tank as making it a beast capable of spewing fire, and therefore rival to itself. The truck perished with a bite that ignited a second smaller, though still colossal explosion, which Shiro was sure would kill the dragon instantly, but it absorbed the blast before turning, the flaming oil running down the heavy black scales that shielded its face and neck in burning rivulets, making him shudder at the thought of what combat between dragons must look like. It put its hind foot up on the chassis of the destroyed truck, raking its claws over the frame to scoop out the mechanical guts, and then satisfied that the metal contraption was really and truly dead, turned its attention towards them.

"Hyah!" Rider called, loosing her chain, but the dragon avoided it, batting the sharp spike away before sending a fiery blast down its length, towards its owner.

"No good", she said, dodging to the side as she carried Sakura out of harm. "I think he remembers me."

"Hey! This thing's not bad", Lancer called, twirling his new spear. Issei had gotten him one of the halberds out of the temple's treasury. It was very old, being made after a continental pattern, with a long straight blade that had two edges, and a tuft of fur at its base to catch the blood and keep the handle from becoming slippery. The socket where it joined the shaft took an interesting form, having two arms branching out to either side, with a single emerald set in their midst.

"It's no Gae Bolg, but it actually does have some magic", he said, making several stabs before twirling it behind his back, admiring the green streaks it left in the air.

"Hmph, Ryudo Temple sits on a ley line", Caster admonished. "Even a PAPER CLIP would take on a charge if you left it sitting there long enough, so if you have a magic artifact made by someone with even modest abilities, it's bound to gather energy over time."

"Still, I doubt it's enough to defeat a dragon."

"Hah!" Rin laughed haughtily, eyeing the large jewel. "I could make a terrific explosion with that – just stab it at the base of its neck, and I'll blow its head off!"

"Don't you dare!" Issei shouted. "That spear has been in the Ryudo family for two centuries!"

Caster yawned.

"Barely an antique . . ."

Their argument was interrupted by a blue streak that hurtled overhead, lodging itself firmly between two of the dragon's black scales. Archer had taken up a position on a nearby watchtower that overlooked the salvage yard below. Having learned from his previous experience not to bring a pair of swords to a dragon fight, he'd resorted to using his bow, loosing several volleys, and studying each for effect.

"Hmm, not strong enough", he said, then drew back again, funneling all of his magic energy into a charged shot. The length of the arrow glowed blue as it stretched out behind the bow, while in front the arrowhead grew long, extending out in a wicked spiral, until a vortex formed around it, drawing in all of the latent magic energy from the surrounding area.

With a streak it left the string, whistling through the night, until it lodged firmly in the dragon's neck, provoking a furious roar. Turning, it launched a blast of flame that Archer narrowly avoided, but it burned with such furious heat that it melted the metal girders that held up the tower, so that as he leapt down, the tower came crashing down behind him. That was when a familiar black blur darted in from the right.

"I *knew* it was only a matter of time before SHE showed up", Lancer lamented as the black streak shot past.

"The only question", Archer answered, "is whether she's here to fight the dragon –"

" – or us?"

Ignoring them both, Saber made a beeline towards the beast. Seeing the black and red fang of her sword approaching, the monster roared, which she answered with a battle cry of her own, holding the black Excalibur aloft.

"H – Y – A – A – A – A – H – H !"

Lancer covered his eyes.

"That woman has got to be the only wight stupid enough and stubborn enough that when a dragon roars at her, she roars back!"

The dragon, for its part, took her seriously, spitting an arc of flame that landed at her feet. Seeing her leap back, it smiled a toothy grin, then reared up, spewing a second arc behind her, thinking to trap her between the two burning rings, but instead she vaulted forward, over the fiery moat, and continued her charge.

Suddenly feeling threatened, the beast reared, flaring its wings, but Saber continued undeterred, lowering her sword, intent on ramming it through its stomach. Exasperated, it fell forward, thinking to crush her with its front legs, but at the last moment she dove, coming up underneath, where she wasted no time, but quickly set to, hacking and hewing away at the soft underparts of its arms and belly.

Its tactic thus thwarted, the dragon leapt up, taking flight. It veered to the side, bathing them all in the powerful downdraft of its wings, only to be sprayed by a sudden barrage.

"M – R – R – A – A – H – H !"

It howled angrily as the bullets from Kiritsugu's machine gun flattened against its scales, before falling harmlessly to the earth. Without hesitating, he put it away, and then taking out his Thompson, pointed the big pistol towards the monster, and fired. The sound of its report thundered in the night, but the big slug also flattened harmlessly against its scaly chest.

Defiantly the dragon roared, leaving Kotomine to watch, mesmerized, as Kiritsugu calmly broke the pistol down, removing the octagonal barrel, and replacing it with another, much longer and heavier one.

"He can DO that!?" Archer said in disbelief.

A second blast thundered, the flash from the muzzle illuminating his face. This time the shot cracked one of the thick armor plates, making the beast howl as it dropped to the ground, clutching its shoulder in pain. Angrily it levelled several fiery blasts in his direction, chasing him as he veered around to the right, leading it away from Illya. But before it could perfect its aim, it was beset by a new foe.

"Angel Poem! Elfen Lied!"

At Illya's words, a white silhouette appeared. Fluttering like a bird, it floated up before the dragon's eyes with an ethereal beauty – then discharged a spray of icy daggers, directly into the beast's face.

"M – r – r – a – r – r – r !"

Once again it roared – more annoyed than injured – then reached out and chomped the beautiful apparition right out of existence.

As quickly as it vanished, another appeared, this one hovering in the air, then drawing out into a lance, plunged into the dragon's neck.

"H – U – R – R – K !"

For a moment Illya held her hand aloft, fluttering her fingers, as four of the spectral apparitions whirled and danced, each of them darting and plunging, leaving the dragon at a loss for where to turn or strike next.

Saber glared furiously.

"Over here! *I'm* your opponent", she shouted. Raising her sword, she swatted the air with a kind of lazy, half 'Excalibur!' that sent a red shockwave of magic energy towards the beast's nose, dispelling the spectral white birds, while Shiro looked on, at a loss for what to do.

He glanced over at Illya, uneasy at the way she was standing alone, and the black shadows behind her. Saber's sword flashed, while the muzzles of Kiritsugu's guns flared. Rider loosed her chain, seeking to mount the monster, but it shook its horns, causing her to go rolling over the top, while a blue streak from Archer's bow shot overhead.

Raising her hand, Illya made the four angels form once again. This time they attacked all at once, so that the dragon was beset on all sides. Wildly it swatted at one, then bit at another, dispatching a third with a blast of its breath. Only for the fourth to explode in its face. Dazed, it reared, then stumbled, tottering forward.

"Stork! Ritter!"

At these words, all four angels formed again, this time hovering just over the ground. Thrusting her hand forward, they aligned themselves, end over end, their bodies joined together by a layer of frost and ice to form a long lance, pointed directly at the dragon's heart. Seeing the danger, the beast lurched, seeking to avoid the jagged tip. But it was only partly successful.

Pitching over to one side, it caught the lance under its arm, its own weight driving it through its body, passing out its back, as it fell with a titanic roar.

" H – R – R – A – R – R – K – K !"

Illya straightened her back and shoulders, beaming as she looked over the fallen hulk triumphantly.

And then it raised its scaly arm, and with a single slash, blotted her out of existence.

"N – O – O – O – O – O – O – O – O ! ! ! !"

With a single slash that cut through his very being, Shiro felt his whole world grow blurry around him.

"ILLYA!"

He took a step, only to find himself standing on a sidewalk, somewhere along the way that led from Fuyuki High back to the Emiya estate.

It was the place they'd first met.

"No . . ."

"Better summon yours soon, Big Brother – "

"No – "

She had looked so beautiful, even then, in her dark purple coat, with a white scarf around her neck, and her long, flowing white hair where it emerged from beneath her hat.

" – or else you'll die."

"No!"

Another step, and he found himself sitting beside her on a park bench, watching the way she kicked her booted feet as she munched happily on one of the sweet bean pastries.

"Just because I'm used to the cold – that doesn't mean I like it . . ."

"NO!"

He ran faster. Suddenly they were standing outside Fuyuki Church. She had that same haughty, aristocratic air that she'd always had back then, the long lashes at either side of her eyes made longer by their corners where they hinted ever so slightly upwards.

"Berserker, kill all of them!"

She'd looked so smug, so confident and self satisfied. He remembered being angry, wanting so badly to see something wipe that look off of her face.

"Illya!"

By now she was falling, her body tumbling lifelessly in the snow. It rolled over once – twice – before coming to a stop, her hat lying beside her, her back twisted, while her legs sprawled, gaping indecently.

Why the hell would he think of something like that now?

"Ack! Big Brother, you're – "

She'd felt so soft in his arms, with her back against him while his hands were under her shirt.

"Mmfh – aghh – "

They were kissing in the hallway, in her underground workshop, the heat of their passion made hotter by the cool damp of the stones, as she slid her tongue into his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Big Brother, but this is going to hurt – "
"ILLYA!"

The fireworks exploded behind her, as the tears streamed from her eyes. Carefully she bent over, avoiding the low ceiling of the car of the ferris wheel as she leaned in close to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you – "

By now he was holding her again, her limp body dangling in his arms. Blood gurgled from her mouth, while one arm hung down lifelessly, a jeweled red stream spilling from the cuff of her sleeve.

"TRACE – ON – "

But it was no use. Already her eyes had begun to glaze over, dulling from ruby to a darker crimson, while her white skin turned an ashen grey.

"I – L – L – Y – A !"