Disclaimer: Two characters are going to be introduced this chapter that I'd originally planned to include in GEGE (yet never got the time to do it). One's identity is going to be blatantly obvious, the other one not so much. I'll leave it to you guys to guess who he is. There's also a brief timeskip involved in between the scene changes. Fingers crossed that it comes across as a natural shift.

Chapter 6- Money for Nothing

I stomp right back up the stairs. Funny, I hadn't even realized there were three sets of them. "You're tearing me apart, Saber!" Unfortunately everything's different now. The entire house is different. I don't know where the hell I am. I'm a fish out of water. My Batcave is gone. In its place is this ridiculously oversized mansion. Yes, mansion. I can't call it anything else besides that.

There are fucking columns. Columns. I walked by them without even realizing they were there. There's one of those goddamn busts of Saber's face too. It's placed on a marble pedestal, just like all the rest of them. Of course I knock it over. The sound it makes when it hits the ground at least alleviates my nerves ever so slightly.

"Saber!"

Since this place is gigantic there's way too many rooms. So I have to go through every single one of them to find her. Every. Single. One. The third floor has eighteen alone. Eighteen. Oh, and there's an attic. I didn't even bother going up there. It's probably just as big as the rest of this place.

"How did she afford this?" Oh. Oh no. She didn't. She couldn't. I fumble around in my pockets. The Pico's there, as well as a cigarette lighter, but not my wallet, nor my phone.

"Wait! I changed clothes!" I rush back to the bedroom I was in. Ok, wait. Hold up. If everything else is new why is my mattress the same? Did she keep the old one just to spite me?! I make it to the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. I hadn't put them away to be washed, instead simply tossing them into a corner of the room.

"Not here." A quick search reveals nothing, save for some lint. "Don't tell me she…." This trail of thought isn't healthy. She couldn't have. She wouldn't. No way. What kind of monster would do this to a man?!

Four more doors slam open. A fifth is kicked open. Finally, behind the sixth I find her. This economic leech. This drain on my resources. This godforsaken woman.

"Oh, Praetor? Did you change your mind on bathing together?" She's naked and bathing in the tub. But it's not the tub I had in my house. No. It's this massive ridiculously lavish tub, completely with gold plated faucets and diamond encrusted valves.

"Y-y-y-youuuuuu!" I'm a sputtering mess. If it were possible, steam would be blowing out from my ears.

Saber innocently points a soapy finger at herself. "Me?" That's it. I can't take this. My head feels like it's about to explode. I'm a live grenade right now.

"You spent my money?!" Spittle flies out of my maw. The warm feeling in my ears tells me that blood is rushing to my head, likely due to the rage I'm in.

Saber smiles. She smiles. Not the smile of a thief pleased with their success, but the smile of a little girl that got what she wanted for Christmas.

"Oh? That I did Praetor." She doesn't even deny my accusations. How can one be so bold as to openly admit such a thing? "Do not worry. I contacted your personal treasurer to confirm you had the proper assets available." 'Personal treasurer'? Does she mean the manager at the local bank? That shit! He let her get away with this?!

"I'll pay him a visit later." Those words seal the man's fate. It isn't going to be pleasant for him. The thought causes me to relax ever so slightly. Imagining turning that fool into a personal punching bag relieves some of the stress I'm currently having to handle.

"How … much?" I hesitate to ask this question.

"Six hundred million yen." Six. Hundred. Million. Million. Million?!

"Praetor, you should close your mouth. It is unbecoming of you."

An odd, guttural death rattle leaves my open jaw. The same sound the creature made last night after I hit it with the RPG. At this point in time I desperately wish I could switch places with it. This is a bombshell even worse.

"M-m-m-i-i-i-l– ?" I can't even get the word out.

"Million? Ah yes, like I said. Six hundred million yen." Don't boast about it?! I make my way out of the room. Simply moonwalking out of her sight. I'm so stunned I've forgotten how to turn around.

Ten seconds later and I'm trying my best at drowning in the toilet. There are five in this fucking place so I have the privilege to choose my preferred suicide method. Seriously. Who installs five toilets when there are only two people in the house?! Five! And Saber doesn't even need to shit! Why do I need five goddamn toilets!

I'm interrupted from my poor man's seppuku by a tap on the shoulder. Dear Pesci, give me strength. Another tap. I know who it is. There's no one else in the household. Just one more minute. There's no longer anymore bubbles. One more min–.

I'm pulled away before I can feel the loving embrace of death. "Praetor!" In my dazed state I can only find one way to respond.

"Million?" A slap. Now I'm seeing stars. The black dots in my gaze disperse, replaced by the concerned face of my 'Heroic' Spirit. "Million." I'm muttering the word repeatedly. My brain is stuck on loop. has stopped working properly.

"Is money that much of a concern?" She beams at me, a motherly smile that's meant to comfort my aching heart. "In that case, I believe you should reconsider your disapproval of bathing together. It saves water after all."

I'm going to choke her. It's impossible. But I'm going to do it. Before I can do so, water rushes from my lungs and I break into a coughing fit. Saber helps me up, swiftly patting me on the back to clear my airways.

"Praetor, I do not think impersonating a canine is a good idea. Perhaps you should avoid doing that in the future?"

"I wasn't drinking from it you goddamn–." Another bout of coughing. Another pat on the back from Saber. "Fuck." Well, that certainly sums up this entire situation quite well. At least in my opinion.

"I was a bit surprised to be honest, learning that someone like you had such a large reserve of funds. Why, you are like a prince living among the paupers!" She gives a chortle after saying this. Almost as if all of this is one big joke. As if making me bankrupt is one damn comedy show. So. This is how it feels to deal with me? Jeez. I owe Kiara an apology.

I can't help it. It's the final straw. I snap. My hands wrap around her slender neck, and I wring the life from her. Well, that's what I wish happened. Instead she barely feels my killing intent.

"Oh, Praetor? Is tickling a display of affection in this era?" I go so far as reinforcing my grip, but of course it's futile. Servants don't technically need to breath. I'd have better luck choking myself to death.

"Only in Chris Brown's mind." I stop, letting go of her as my rage dissipates. "Phone." Normally, I'd assume Saber would ignore me. My command would go completely over her head. However, for some reason she actually listens. Maybe it's my tone. Or maybe it's the serious look on my face. But for whatever reason she does as I ask. I'm not at all surprised to see she stole my phone as well. It's probably how she called the banker. Knew I should have called him something besides "Mr. Moneybags" in my contacts' list.

"Here you go Praetor." She hands it to me, and the large smile on her face makes me ponder the idea of her being some secret sadist. Surely this world isn't cruel enough to create someone so unconceivably ditzy that they'd smile, without a shred of guilt, upon the person they'd robbed blind. She's either a complete moron or unimaginably apathetic towards the idea of deferred consumption. Or both. I'm guessing both.

With a few pushes of the button I've gotten ahold of the banker who allowed this to happen. "Ah, Dante, it's been a while. How have you been do–?"

"Shut the fuck up, you filthy son of a whore." Even Saber gasps in shock as I say this. I can hear the bank manager make a sound quite similar to a bleating sheep. "I've been out for two days and the first thing I learn waking up is that you've allowed my assets to completely dwindle up."

Silence. And then the dog tries to defend himself. "She was very convincing." I glance to the girl he's talking about. Yes, I'll admit she has a certain air of charisma to her, even though she doesn't have the skill. Her personality demands to be the center of attention, and it's that kind of magnetism that makes her perfect at getting what she wants, when she wants it.

"There are many things more convincing." I don't even need to elaborate. He knows what I'm talking about.

"Dante, please. Let us be civil here. I can fix–."

"Do you know what the term 'drawn and quartered' means?" I look straight into Saber's eyes while saying this. I have to make this point. She's just caused me a ton of trouble. She needs to understand.

"Praetor, do not punish the man for–."

"Is that one of your American sayings?" The banker attempts to interject some humor into the conversation. Not the time for it.

"Look it up." I hang up. And immediately I make another call, ignoring the question in Saber's eyes.

"D-d-ante? Is that you?"

"You know that Western bank downtown?"

Silence. He's pondering my question.

"The Bateman?" His words crawl out of his throat, as if he's unwilling to say them.

I clear my throat. "Yeah. I had most of my money there. The bank manager allowed it to be spent without my say involved."

"Ah." From his tone I can tell he's somewhat disappointed. Guess he thought I was merely checking up on him. That's wishful thinking right there.

Saber's squirming in place.

"You know what I'm getting at."

The man coughs into the speaker. "Consider it done." A sigh of exasperation comes from his end of the line. "That's what you call about? Jesus Christ Dante it's been three–."

I interrupt his venting. "I'm also going to immediately need to come out of retirement. Restart the Underground section of the Junkyard. Tell the boys they've got a job again."

A merry round of laughter comes from the background. Apparently he's not alone. "Looks like you got to tell them yourself." Hearing the smugness in his voice, I hang up without so much as a goodbye.

"Praetor?" She looks somewhat worried, I can't imagine it's for her own sake. Nor would it be for the banker, unless I misjudged her benevolence. That means she's worried about me for some reason. Unusual. Why should she …?

I can feel my hands shaking. Why are they shaking?

"Praetor, are you okay?" What gave it away? The goofy comedy act? Or maybe the abrupt shift into somberness? Or are you really telling me pseudo-Parkinson's is the giveaway? I can't tell her. She just doesn't need to know. At least not yet.

"I just need a drink." My hand goes through my hair. An attempt at pushing the wet strands away from my forehead, while also hiding the shaking. "Just a drink."

She nods, slowly, methodically, as if she's trying to process this. I don't blame her. A million things have happened in only a few days. It's getting hard to keep track. "Praetor, what is it that you do?" What kind of question is that?

"What is it that you do Saber?"

She smiles for some reason. A distant look in her eyes. "I am an artist. My job is merely to bring beauty into this world." Oh, so we got a philosopher here. Regular Socrates on our hands.

"Well my job was a bit simpler than that."

"Was?" I start walking out of the bathroom, forgetting about the puddles of toilet water coating the linoleum floor. Someone's probably going to break their neck.

"I'm retired." I sigh. "Or I was. Now you've gone and made me bankrupt. Can't exactly relax when you're penniless." As if fighting in a war between legendary heroes was anybody's idea of relaxation.

Her smile dips ever so slightly. "The banker insisted you had enough." Well I did, but he wasn't accounting for having any money left over after the fact.

"Let's not talk about this anymore." Please, Saber, just let it go. I'm going to dry heave if you remind me.

"Can you not just take it back? Surely they would understand?" Oh sweet swirly porcelain bowl, welcome me in your embrace. For I so desperately want to be anywhere but here. Unfortunately I'm unable to flush myself down the drain like a dead goldfish. Saber once again pulls me back.

"Is that not possible, Praetor?"

My teeth grind against one another. "Something tells me they have a 'no refunds' policy when it comes to mansions." Her expression becomes forlorn, as if a tiny thundercloud was personally raining on her sunny day.

Of course she had done exactly that to me. Saber is in fact my personal thundercloud. I barely know her and I can already tell she's a curse on my good fortune. But perhaps I'm being too harsh. This war in itself is a bringer of bad luck. Saber's merely a contestant in it all. One who happened to spend every penny I had available.

"In that case I suppose the only course of action is to go back to work." She shrugs, showing how little she cares about disturbing my day to day activities. "In fact it might actually be good for you. Judging from your other home, inactivity has made you lazy and unorganized."

I'm going to kill her. I swear, I'm going to kill her. Grail War or not. I'm going to find some way to pay her back for this. Mark my words.

"I could barely contain the contents of my stomach upon witnessing it. Why, Praetor, I'd say you were a slob. But that would be putting things rather lightly."

I blink.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then I breathe.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I won't let her get to me. Think of her like Kiara. She's just trying to rile you up on purpose. Sticks and stones. Sticks and–

"It smelled quite horrid as well. I thought an animal had died and decomposed in your bedroom. In fact, that's precisely why I insist on bathing together." What. "I feel you do not fully comprehend the proper procedure involved in cleanliness. Even now you reek of debauchery. Praetor, you look less like a prince and more like a vagrant. I believe the term of this era is 'hobo'."

I'm going to bash her head in with a stone, and then break her neck with a very large stick.

"Saber? How about we look at this from a different perspective?" She blinks at my sudden tone shift. I actually sound rather calm right now. Which is less impressive than it seems to be. No, I didn't manage to actually calm down. I'm just so angry that I've come full circle. My rage is so great that it's burnt itself out.

"Perspective?"

I walk to the bathroom sink, turn on the faucet, and splash some water on my face. "Yes. Let's think about the other way this is a disaster."

"Other way?" She echoes my words, completely lost in the conversation.

"Not only have you potentially turned me into a pauper. But you've also compromised our position!" She's bought a gigantic mansion in my name. Besides from some of the larger skyscrapers, it's probably the most expensive building in the city. Did she not think this through?!

"You've essentially painted a giant target on our back." I mean we were kind of already screwed. That thing that attacked us was likely tied to a Master. Which means we're already identified as being combatants in this war. I don't know if Kiara tipped them off to set up that ambush, or maybe they'd just waited for any unfortunate schmuck to stumble along after registering at the church.

Either way, at least one other Master knows that I'm in this. Which isn't a good thing. Do you know what's even worse? Saber proclaiming to the other five that I'm in the war!

"I mean, you don't think our enemies will notice such a change? I'm not exactly a ghost in this city, so it's probably going to catch someone's attention." This's putting it lightly. I always stand out in a crowd. But I do so on purpose. Hiding in plain sight, so to speak.

The people of this city expect me to do something eccentric. Like living in a gated concrete bunker in the middle of town. But buying a mansion? That's not my style. I stand out, but not to that degree.

"That is fine, Praetor. Let them come. We shall crush them." She brushes aside my concerns. What a lunatic. This girl actually thinks it's a good idea to lead the enemy to us. Maybe that'd be true if we'd set up any sort of ambush, but that's not the case. Hell, I barely even know where we are. This is far from familiar territory for me.

"If we're going to lead them to us we should be doing it in my house." And we should also at least have an inkling of an idea as to who we were up against. I don't want to lead Hercules or Genghis Khan straight to my front door. At least not without having a hundred and one different contingency plans for how to kill them.

"It is somewhat late for that, Praetor. I have already razed that abomination to the ground."

For some reason this makes my pupils grow to the size of saucer plates. Goddamn I'm so shocked my eyes are dilating. "What." Not a question. No, a statement. One of such clear unadulterated confusion.

"I burnt it down. I do not think your neighbors minded. They were cheering in the streets at the sight." Need to make a phone call. Need to exterminate the cockroaches who I thought to be my neighbors.

"Saber." The chilly tone in which I speak her name gives Saber goosebumps. I see the tiny protuberances on her flesh. "You burned my house down?" I'm giving her this last way out. This final question decides the fate of her life. If she answers incorrectly, why she might as well commit suicide.

"Why of course. It smelled awful."

My eyes narrow dangerously. "Why."

She shrugs.

She fucking shrugs.

"It seemed the best course of action. The house was beyond renovation. The only option was to cleanse it using the purifying attributes of fire."

I pick up the can of air freshener that's situated on top of the toilet. My hand dips into my pocket and fishes out my lighter. "So. You set my house on fire." Saber watches me, unsure of how to proceed. "And don't even feel a shred of remorse."

She huffs. "Honestly Praetor, I cannot see why this is such a big deal."

You spent all my money. And burned my house down. "You don't see why it's a big deal." I speak in a mocking tone. "Well, how would you like to go up in flames?"

She opens her mouth to reply. That was a mistake. I start the lighter, and place it right in front of the air freshener's aim. Then I press the button on the can. A scented stream of chemicals ignites in midair upon contact with the flame. I've created a makeshift flamethrower. And where do all those flames go? Right in Saber's face. With a considerably portion going right in her mouth.

A normal person would have probably suffered some mild to severe burns from this. Possibly going blind if they were unfortunate enough to have their eyes open when the blast went off. Saber did have her eyes open. So it's rather fortunate she's not a normal human being.

She doesn't go blind. But she loses her eyebrows, as well as her eyelashes. Oh and her hair catches on fire. I watch with mild amusement as she smacks herself in the head to smother the flames. She's not in pain, nothing as mundane as this would hurt a Servant. But I've at least mildly irritated her. She's done far worse than that to me.

Yes, this is extremely petty of me. It's a pathetic display of defiance, one brought about by the knowledge that I'm unable to protest her slights against me any other way.

She succeeds at putting the fire out. Boy, I wish I had a camera. Gone is the beauty from before. Well, she's still beautiful. But she looks more like some weird alien humanoid. An attractive alien, but an alien nonetheless. She looks like a non-Blue member of the Blue Man Group.

"Praetor." There's tears in the corners of her eyes. Guess she noticed how she looks in the mirror. "Give me the can."

I look down at the can of aerosol. It's on the floor. Must have slipped from my grasp. "No." If she had eyebrows they would have raised at that. She doesn't, so I instead watch her brow line inch upwards ever so slightly.

"Excuse me?"

I frown at her. "You're excused." My foot slowly inches forward. Just a few more centimeters and I'll be able to reach the can ….

She grabs it.

Quick as a whip she leans down and plucks the can away from me. Her hair is already starting to regrow. A small quantity of prana travels from me to her, and she uses it to repair her damaged appearance. I watch as she grasps the air freshener between her hands, vaguely wondering what she's going to do. The lighter's back in my pocket, I refuse to let her lay hands on that.

"Praetor, I do not find your pranks amusing." She stands up straight, fixing a maniacal grin my way. It doesn't at all fit her face. "Consider this your one and only warning." She crushes the can. The pressure built up inside it is released, and pieces of metal are launched around the room. "Get out."

The tension in the room could be cut by a knife. I ignore her attempt at being scary. A yawn escapes me. "M'kay." I walk up to her, ruffle her newly formed hairdo, and quietly walk away. The look on her face is worth every penny she's cost me.

I dial my cell with one hand, the other placed inconspicuously in my pocket. Holding it up against my ear, I listen to it dial the number.

"Hello?" Good she answered.

"Yo. Do me a favor?"

Silence. "Dante?"

I can't help but smile. "Who else? I'm back in business." A rowdy batch of laughter is my only answer.

Downtown Fuyuki City, Autumn 20XX

Fuyuki's tallest skyscraper is approximately the same height as the Empire State Building. It was built around five years ago, the construction project funded by the lone figure that currently resided in its highest floor. This was his penthouse.

The young man, for he was in his early twenties, looked out the glass windowpanes in front of him. He sat upon a large, velvet chair and gazed upon the city unfolding beneath him. Like a king watching over his subjects. Or Santa Claus keeping a vigilant eye on the world's children.

This man lived a life of affluence. His future was bright, he could not fail.

"Master, the sixth Servant has been summoned."

The young man turned his head to look at the person who'd interrupted his thoughts. "Mmm? Is that so?"

His new guest was a regal looking man, dressed in a fine white suit. He bowed before his Master. He did not kneel like a common servant prostrating themselves before their liege. No, his bow was in a curt style, cut from the same cloth as the old procedures of military etiquette. It was a gesture of solemn acceptance, a polite nod of respect towards the young man he called his Master. It signaled an unfathomable bond of loyalty between them. Comradery of the highest order.

These two men could be mistaken for brothers. They both shared the same blonde locks. Though the bowing man's hair was somewhat curlier, so much so that it could practically be considered wavy. The sitting man's hair was straighter, it was styled almost like a bowl-cut. The hair of someone nearly seventy years out of style. The haircut of the stereotypical nerd, awaiting the moment in which they would be preyed upon by a bully.

This man wasn't prey. He was a predator. A mover and a shaker. If he wished, he could have turned that ridiculous bowl-cut into society's latest trend. In fact, he had done just that albeit indirectly. He was that influential. His legions of adoring fans testified to that. It wasn't at all surprising that blonde wigs and hair dye were both currently out of stock citywide.

"Who is the Master?" The man with a bowl-cut sipped casually from a wineglass, smiling cheerfully at his companion.

"An ex-convict. Julius had already begun establishing a list of the man's feats and flaws."

Another sip from his glass, a slight tapping of his fingers against the arm of his chair. The red tuxedo he wore blended in marvelously with the material, making it look more like a chair with a head and hands, rather than a man seated down.

"His name is Dante di Prinzi."

The glass falls. Landing on its side with a loud crash. It scuffs up the mahogany tile that makes up the floor.

Immediately the man in white rushes to pick up the shards of glass, for he was a dutiful Servant. The seated man places a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from continuing his actions.

"Forgive me, sire. I shouldn't have–"

"There, there, Sir Gawain. Do not blame yourself. It is my own fault for being so clumsy."

The kneeling man now identified as Gawain bolted up in shock. "Nonsense, sire, it is not your–" His protest were in vain, for his voice caught in his throat upon noticing the serene, peaceful look on his Master's face. It brokered no room for arguments. For it would be a crime against nature to argue against such a heavenly creature.

"Allow me to clean this mess. Please inform my brother that I want this Master to be left alone. Observe him for now, avoid confronting him if at all possible."

"Master?" His words laced with concern, Gawain questioned his Master's reasoning. And once he realized that he quickly attempted to apologize. A flurry of words and hand gestures, followed by an abrupt bow before he excused himself. "Once again, you are far too kind of a Master for a mere knight like I."

With that last utterance of flattery he left to follow his Master's orders.

Now all alone, the red tuxedoed man pondered this recent revelation. "How unfortunate that such a man would be involved in this." He sighed, his gaze wandering to the broken wineglass. "I suppose I'll have to deal with him eventually. It would be irresponsible to let someone like that run around with free reign."

His gaze lingered upon the shards of glass before he continued staring out the window. Watching the night life of Fuyuki unravel in front of him in the same manner someone would casually enjoy a good movie.

"I should call a servant to clean up this mess. It'd be unfortunate if someone were to step in it." But he found himself unable to do so, his attention was completely focused on the scene before him. That is how he spent his night, looking over the citizens of Fuyuki as a human would observe a colony of ants. Such was the detached existence this man lived. The man who tried so desperately to be human, but was treated as a god.

"Praetor, why have we returned here?"

I groan at her question. She's been asking me questions like this for the past thirty minutes. It's like dealing with a child. Since my van's trashed, I had to walk here. Of course, Saber had suggested I allow her to carry me. Of course I had told her hell no.

"Please just be quiet Saber. I've got a headache." I'm actually being honest here. The migraine isn't from my annoyance at Saber's antics. No, there's a much simpler reason. The area we've returned to is overwhelming. The abundance of mana in the air threatens to incapacitate me through the sheer quality and quantity of it. This is Ground Zero, and I feel some sort of misplaced empathy towards the first responders that came upon the wreckage in Chernobyl.

If magic registered on a Geiger counter I would have brought one. Had I done this I probably would have a worse headache right now. A constant scratching sound, an indicator that the instrument registered the danger within its proximity, would have drove me insane. It would be like handling the constant chatter of a thousand cicadas. That is something I'm forced to hear as well. Bastard insects must be alarmed at how their habitat has malformed.

I shouldn't be surprised. I had released an overabundance of prana with my attack. But I can't help but feel this isn't a proper representation of just that. We've returned to the scene of the crime. Not more than two nights ago this was our battlefield against that beast. Now it's merely an abandoned wasteland in the middle of an overpopulated urban jungle. There's a massive crater in the ground, courtesy of the RPG. Shrapnel is spread densely throughout. Any curious collector with a metal detector would be overjoyed in finding this place.

Sadly they never will. At least for a while. The boundary field is still in place. I can feel it, despite it being dwarfed in comparison to the charged air itself. Originally this had given Saber and I some pause. There was a tangible threat that creature would still be watching this land. Like some primordial predator keeping a close eye on its territory. This wasn't the case, as we quickly realized something else had come through here after us.

I can safely confirm it wasn't the Assassin of this war. No self-proclaimed killer would be so blatantly obvious. Especially with Presence Concealment, no matter how low the rank may be. There's a foreign presence here. One that belonged not to Saber nor I, nor did it belong to our monstrous combatant the other night.

His/her/it's presence is still plainly obvious. I can map out the thing's movements not just from memory, but from the signature it's left behind in the form of its prana. It feels much the same as it did before. Utterly terrifying. Even now the mere residual energy it's left behind awakens some long thought buried urge to flee. As I mentioned, I also am quite capable of tracing my own actions in the battle. Up until the climax, the blast from that final RPG shot is too chaotic to properly judge.

I have different emotions upon recognizing it. Instead of the fear I feel at the beast's ghostly presence, I feel nothing but exhilaration at identifying the destruction I caused. Saber senses this misplaced pride I've put upon my actions. She incorrectly assumes it to be confidence in her abilities that night.

"Mmm, Praetor? It seems you have recognized my aura from our battle. I suppose I should not be surprised, no Praetor of mine would dare avoid basking in my glory. No matter if that glory was of last night, a week ago, or even a millennia in the past!" She smiles happily at me. I scowl at her idiocy.

We came here to reclaim her catalyst. That broken knife I had stuffed into my pants pocket. I had apparently left it behind in the chaos, for I was unable to find it in my new 'house'. There's of course the chance that Saber stole it from me, just like she stole my wallet. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt here, mainly because I needed to return here anyway.

There's a possibility that we can identify that creature. That's the thought I had in my head while walking here with Saber. (Well, one of the thoughts I'd had. Though the others all focused on how to punish her thievery. They were quite unproductive, so I'll avoid elaborating.) It had to have left some form of clue. No mindless force of nature such as that would have been cunning enough to sweep up the evidence.

Kiara, presumably, hadn't had time to deal with this. Or maybe she was simply waiting for the boundary field to dissipate. That made some sense. After all, even though she's the Overseer that doesn't necessarily mean she's safe. Any wannabe Master that didn't understand the rules might kill her without batting an eye. Even the more traditional Masters would end her if they discovered I was working with her on some minuscule level. I don't necessarily blame them either. I'd do the same to her if I found out she was helping the others substantially.

"Jealous, are we? Praetor, I thought you said there was nothing between you and the nun?" Damn, must have mumbled that aloud. Either that or Saber's been digging into my thoughts. Nosy woman.

"It's a matter of loyalty, Saber. Nothing more. I don't think there's anything wrong with expecting your associates to avoid stabbing you in the back." I bend down to examine the rubble surrounding us. A green speck of rock grabs my attention.

"Hmm, sadly that is not often a luxury that can be had." I turn my head to glance back at her. She's peering over my shoulder, staring at the mineral in my hands with fascination.

"Aye, just look at what happened to Julius Caesar. Even the best of us can fall to treachery." Probably the wisest thing I've said in my life. But I hold that statement within me, for I believe it with the utmost conviction. Even gods can die if they're caught unaware. Which is why I view the Boy Scouts as the most proficient organization in history. As silly as that sounds, I can't help but view such a group with respect when their motto is 'be prepared'. That's wisdom even the finest of spec ops soldiers should heed.

Then again there's things preparation simply can't adapt for. That's why my second favorite quote is "No battle plan survives contact with the enemy." It's ingrained in my very soul. Every fiber of my being is built to follow that simple observation.

"Praetor, what is that stone you are holding?"

"Malachite." A simple analysis spell tells me this. However, it does not tell me why I've currently found such a thing here. I cannot, for the life of me, recall ever hearing mention of malachite being a common element in Japan, let alone Fuyuki.

"There's traces of my magic imbued in it. How … strange." I notice a few more shards of the stone scattered around the area. Its green hue allows it to easily be identified. At first I had illogically assumed it to be Kryptonite. After all, that is the first thought to come to mind upon hearing the description 'green stone'. But I know this not to be the case. Even without my analysis. Kryptonite, to my knowledge, isn't a real mineral. And if it were it would have some form of radiation to it.

That might have explained the odd aura surrounding this area. 'Might' being the key word here. Radiation would have felt much differently. What I feel is something far less describable. I've felt radiation. This is not radiation. Radiation doesn't make you feel warm and tingly. It doesn't make every hair on your body stand up.

"Was that here before, Praetor?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'before'. It could have been buried in the soil." Maybe the blast brought it to the surface? To be honest, I have no idea. It could be a coincidence. It could be tied to the monster we fought. Or it could be related to whatever's making this place feel so … unusual.

I really have to get out of here. I've already found Saber's dagger in the wrecked husk of my van. I've already destroyed any incriminating evidence that could point someone to me. And I've already searched this place with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing is pointing me any closer to figuring out what our assailant was. This little journey's only brought about more questions.

Why's there malachite here? What's this foreign presence in the air? Why is the bounded field still in place?

Those inquiries swim around my mind, yet I have no way of bringing any of their answers to the light. I can only toss around wild speculation and conjure up a hypothesis to explain this. Nothing concrete or grounded in facts.

"Mmm, Praetor … I can tell you are troubled. Fret not, for the answers will come to us in due time. It would be better to return to our domain, and prepare for the upcoming battles we will surely fight." That's a surprisingly insightful piece of advice from Saber. Looks like the old saying is indeed true. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

"Fair point. We're just going to have to stop off at a friend's place real quick."

She tilts her head to the side, the universal gesture of perplexity. "Oh? I am proud of you, Praetor. Despite your hostility you still have the sense to value friendship." Am I being insulted or complimented? The radiant smile on her lips indicates she's trying her hand at flattery. And yet the words that spill forth from those very lips indicate she's in need of some serious practice.

Her visage shifts, abruptly becoming the pout she seems to favor. "Why is it that you have not even told me their name? As your Emperor I should be privy to the identities of your inner circle." My 'Emperor'? Again she speaks of such things. It's to the point where she doesn't even catch herself. She's let such an important clue slip out for any eavesdropper to hear. Either she's forgotten the importance of secrecy or she just doesn't care.

My mind wanders back to that 'dream'. The young woman walking through the streets. Yes, that was Rome wasn't it? And the fire. Those flames that managed to dance between being horrifying and beautiful. What could that have been? The Great Fire of Rome? Nero wasn't supposed to have been there at the time. Even if he had been, it would go against every historical record to say he died there. If Saber was Nero why was she there? Burning in the inferno with me.

Is she just mentally retarded? Some lunatic that thinks she's an emperor? It wouldn't have been the first time that's been the case. Just thinking of the so-called 'Emperor' Norton brings a smile to my face. Could Saber be some similar oddity? That should be impossible. She's a Heroic Spirit after all. Therefore she needed to have been some relatively influential figure, and not just some bumbling idiot off the streets.

Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. Emperor of Rome. Also Emperor of Ridiculously Long Names. He was a man. This much was certain. Of course one could argue the history books were incorrect, but then that would make almost everything reported on the subject obsolete. That possibility is something that could unravel quite a lot of my plans. If Nero's legend is wrong then what of Attila the Hun? Or Frederick the Great? Napoleon? Hannibal? The true identity of any historical individual living in an era prior to the invention of the camera could be up to question. Don't even get me started on fictional individuals. If I can't trust the history books to truthfully inform me how can I trust the more romanticized legends like that of King Arthur or El Cid?

If Saber is indeed Nero then I'm going to have to compensate accordingly. I can't trust in what I know about history and mythology to make a call on how to handle the enemy. Even if I know they're names I'm not going to necessarily be able to judge their strengths and weaknesses. I'll just have to take everything with a grain of salt, and trust in my gut for advice. Good thing I'm quite skilled when it comes to winging it.

Now, there's only one other problem here. Let's say Saber is Nero. That would explain why she avoided identifying herself. Well, the fact that I tackled the Matou in front of her might have been partially responsible for her lack of trust in me. But, if she's Nero than I would imagine she'd feel uncomfortable sharing that piece of information with someone she just met. Just imagine if she had been summoned by a devout Evangelical! Sharing her name would have resulted in her prompt suicide a la Command Spells.

I suppose that's a plus. It means she's at least able of understanding that her history has a negative connotation to it. Now hopefully she sort of understands why that's the case. The last thing I need is a tyrant on my hands. I'm not in the mood for having to stage a coup d'état against my partner in this war.

"Praetor?" Her tone's curious, and I take that as a very good sign. Had she been concerned, or perhaps even nervous (if Saber could even feel such an emotion) it would have told me I'd rambled aloud once more. Her curiosity means she isn't privy to my unease.

A part of me desires to continue this pondering. To continue my inner monologue reflecting on Saber's existence, but I know I cannot do this. Time spent reflecting does little good. It would only make Saber suspicious of my intentions. I'm going to drop this mental tangent. At least if she's the real Nero I'll have an excuse as to why she was compelled to raze my home to the ground and replace it with a ridiculously opulent mansion.

Rulers were apt to commit such illogically acts. Even more so when they completely distanced themselves from the common folk. And if ever there were to be a prize given to the ruler most disillusioned with the plight of the commoner, it would most definitely go to Nero. Or perhaps Caligula, her uncle. Come to think of it, the Romans had a shit ton of tyrants in their history. At least I didn't get Commodus. I'd Russell Crowe that bastard.

Look at me, I'd conceded that I should cease the pointless pondering, and yet I still continued doing so. Saber's curiosity is shaping into worry. I can feel her presence seep into my subconscious, likely her attempt at assuring me she's still there. Or she's just being nosy. Maybe both.

I sigh, finally clearing my cluttered thoughts from my mind. "My apologies, I was lost in thought."

Saber just smiles. Easily accepting the excuse I've provided. "It is a reoccurring tendency of yours, Praetor. Your mind often seems to be filled to the brim with worry." That easygoing smile shifts into a lecherous grin. Oh Pesci, I'm getting flashbacks of Kiara. Has that woman abused me so thoroughly that I've gained PTSD?

"Or … perhaps your thoughts are far less dark. Could it be that the mention of your 'friend' brings back pleasant memories?" She pouts. Which disgusts me slightly. There is no reason another person should t pout while following the line of thought Saber is going along.

"First that nun, and now there is another harlot vying for your hand?" Ok, I got one question. How does she know my 'friend' is a woman? What if they're a fat grease ball with an obnoxious Jersey accent? Would James Gandolfini fit the description of 'harlot'?

That is of course a what-if situation. Saber is correct, my friend is a woman. That's even more terrifying. How the hell did she know? Does she have some odd sixth sense? Perhaps this is a common trait shared among all women? An inner Sherlock Holmes that picks up on the smallest of clues in order to create a grand conspiracy of adultery.

Or … maybe she's just paranoid.

"You should run these sort of things by me first, Praetor. As your Emperor, I should be able to properly vet those who desire to join your harem." Disgusting. Simply deplorable.

"It seems I must also work at strengthening your bond of loyalty to me. I cannot allow another to take my place as your main partner." Now she's the one rambling. Debating with herself over an issue that doesn't even exist.

"I'd hate to burst your bubble." Of course this is a lie. I take great pleasure in ending this ridiculous conspiracy she's concocted in her head. "But my relationship with them is nothing of that sort. " I sigh, the disheartened sound brought about by my exasperation in handling my small statured companion. "I've already spoken on my feelings towards Kiara, if you still doubt my sincerity there's nothing I can say to appease you. And my other friend is more of a business partner. I'm the supplier to their demands." Ok, if the suspicious glare on Saber's face is any indicator, I could have probably worded that better.

"Mmm … is that the truth?" What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Does she honestly think someone would answer 'no' that that question. I mean, I'm not even lying here, but I still can't help but ponder the intelligence that went into her wording.

"I assure you it is."

For some baffling reason, she frowns at this. "Mmm … and are you absolutely sure you want to keep the relationship that way?" What the fuck?

"Why do you sound disappointed?" There's an edge of frustration to my words.

She crosses her arms over her chest. I'm beginning to be annoyed with this conversation. We're in enemy territory, surrounded by an unknown feeling of power, and she's bothering to debate with me whether or not I'd find pleasure in copulating with a deranged nun and my main buyer in this godforsaken city. What is heaven's name is wrong with this woman?

"I am not sure whether I should be disappointed or relieved. Even though it protects our relationship, you are being quite unimaginative, Praetor. It is quite unlike you, and far from the proper mindset of an artist." I wonder if malachite can be turned into a weapon? I mean, it is a rock so I should be able to turn it into something somewhat deadly. After all the Aztecs did turn obsidian into blades as sharp as broken glass. The only question left is whether I should craft such a weapon in order to skewer Saber or end my own wretched existence.

"You're telling me you want to experiment." Not a question, no a statement. One filled with incredulity. I shouldn't be surprised. With that stunt in the bathroom Saber's shown herself to be almost on the same level as Kiara. Almost.

"Well, I would not altogether be against the idea." There are somethings that should never be said on the first date. And this isn't even the first date. We aren't even dating! What the hell is wrong with this woman?! She's sounding like some forty year old swinger! "Of course, I must be the main focus of your adoration. This is to be expected, as the Emperor should always be the most revered."

You know, I don't think my brain can handle any more of this. I walk over to Saber, and place a firm hand on top of her head. Then I ruffle her hair, just like how an elder sibling would to their younger sister. Hear that Saber? You've been friend zoned so much I consider you a sister! Ha! Who's the 'Emperor' now?!

"Let's end this conversation, and forget about it forever." More hair ruffling despite her meek protests. "Besides, I'm not into bestiality."

This causes her to stir slightly underneath my palm. "Your friend is an animal?" That's the question you ask?! Oh Pesci, please tell me she's moral enough to be dissuaded. I don't need to learn she's like Catherine the Great.

I chuckle slightly, despite my inner feelings of turmoil. "Uh … no she's human. But she's got the ferocity of a tiger."

Her head bobs up and down, a signal that she understands. "Very well. I will enjoy meeting her." She shifts her gaze up to meet mine, her chin defiantly pointing upwards despite my hand holding her down. "I believe she will enjoy making my acquaintance even more." Bravo. Way to be humble.

"Let's just get out of here before something shows up." Whether that 'something' is the monster from before or the origin of this strange aura is left up to the imagination to decide.

I pocket the malachite, it rattles around in my pocket lightly tapping against the blade of Saber's catalyst. Thankfully this terrible conversation is over. Now, off to meet the Wicked Witch of the West. Maybe she'll help me escape my financial crisis. Either that or she'll find a way to consume my remaining rations out from under my nose.

AN: Now that I think about it there is another canon character involved in this chapter that wasn't in GEGE. She's going to show up next chapter more, but she won't be a main character or anything like that. Also big thanks to King Kieth as always for giving this thing a look-see before I posted it.

Now time to address you guys' reviews!

Anthem of the Night: First off I'd just like to say I'm a fan of the OC you've used in your own Fate related stories. A nameless crusader that uses dark magic? That just sounds awesome. My one gripe was that his personality seemed to be inconsistent and borderline erratic at times. Maybe that's what you were going for? A sort of unstable Joker like character. But I digress, Interstellar is probably one of the better sci-fi movies to come out in a while, in my opinion. The Martian was a really good film too. Thanks for your kind words! That dream sequence was really hard to write, to be honest. I felt like I just couldn't settle for anything short of perfection on account of it being such an important event in Nero's history. I still feel like it wasn't the best it could have been, but I'm somewhat happy with how it turned out regardless. Well, from Dante's reaction this chapter I would say he had more of a stroke, rather than a panic attack, lol.

Matrience: You're welcome! Thanks for reviewing!

King0fP0wers: You propose an interesting question. How would Dante and Gil get along? That is, if Gil did't execute Dante on the spot after getting insulted by him, lol. If Dante knew what Gil was capable of he'd probably bide his time rather than outright mock him. Sort of like Tokiomi, except he'd be more ballsy about it. I can kind of agree that Gil would see him as a useless court jester who's only talent was cheap entertainment. I can say one thing though, at least Gil couldn't call him a Faker! Unless of course there's prototype firearms in the Gate of Babylon. If I ever end up finishing this story I just might toss Dante into Fate Zero. That way you'd be able to see just how Dante and Iskandar would get along. I think that Dante would see him as a blowhard, but a charming blowhard in his own right. Ozymandias would be much the same, since he's basically a toned down version of Gil. As for Nitocris, well I don't know much about her besides her inclusion in Grand Order. But I don't think Dante would find her too unbearable. Especially if he met her after the events of this story. No one can top Nero in comparison, lol.

Tomster627: I can wholeheartedly agree with this! Which is why this chapter started off strong with a reference to one of the best worst movies ever made.

Emperor Lelouch Lamperouge: All Hail Lelouch! Er ... thanks for the praise! Characterization is the main thing I've been working on as I don't want to improperly portray Nero or any of the others. I'm hoping I can continue meeting your expectations in the future as well!