"Master candidate number 49, Samuel Kriegsland, welcome to Chaldea" The intercom rang in a monotone,

Samuel, or Sam, by contrast, growled in annoyance and rubbed his lower eyelids, the 20-year-old was tired and pissed; the damned intercom rang out almost bi-minutely, and only an hour and a half into his introduction, he was irked beyond belief.

"This is for you." He repeated to himself, "This is for you, and only you."

Sam rubbed his eyes again, taking a deep breath and stepping through the automatic door, into the Director's orientation speech room, taking his place among the other Master candidates, cracking his neck and popping his knuckles. By the looks of things, he was gonna be here a while.

"Your first task as Masters," The Director finished her speech, "will be summoning your first Heroic Spirit as a Servant, summoning rooms are designated by room number, I and the higher staff of Chaldea will guide you each to your specific summoning room. I, Olga Marie Animusphere, along with all the staff of Chaldea, humbly welcome you. Good luck."

With that, the woman vacated the stage and set about guiding a group of candidates down one hallway, a man dressed in near all green doing the same. Sam looked around, finding a fluffy-haired redhead man gently clapping his shoulder.

"Hey there, 49, Name's Romani Archaman, I'm head of medical staff at Chaldea, I'll show you to your summoning room."

Slightly taken off guard by the man's fast pace of speech, and his insistence to get to the point, Sam stood stock-still for a fraction, before rushing off to join the rapidly disappearing man.

Once out of eyesight and earshot of the Director, Romani seemed to visibly relax, shoulders slouching slightly as he did so.

"Sorry about the whole fast-talking professional business stuff," The man said, "Call me Roman, rolls off the tongue better, wouldn't you say?"

"It does." Sam plainly retorted, rolling his shoulders to relax the muscles, to which the man made a noise of acknowledgment, slowing his pace.

"Noticed you had trouble keeping up, sorry about that, Sam."

Sam was only slightly surprised the man knew his name, considering his status.

"Apparent bastard, now disowned, child of the wildly famous Kriegsland family, is that right?" Roman continued, spinning a pen in his fingers with the deftness of a pianist playing a particularly long symphony.

"That would be spot on." Sam grimaced in annoyance, "And it's exactly why I don't particularly enjoy talking about it." He continued, Roman seemed to nod, then delved into the history of Chaldea in an attempt to change the topic as they continued the trek.

28, 29, 30, Samuel counted the summoning room numbers as they walked, listening as Roman finished his history lesson.

"-and after the passing of dear Marisbury, a shame it was," Roman commented, sounding almost wistful, "He was a good man, a good friend. As I was saying, After Marisbury passed, his daughter, Olga Marie, took the reins as current Director. Ah! Here we are." Roman's step paused before the final room, the door opening before them, beckoning them into a well-sized chamber.

"The other candidates," Sam finally spoke up, "They all have Magic Circuit, but I've never had any to my knowledge."

"Nonsense," The man opposite him replied, "You wouldn't have been accepted if you had no knowledge of Magecraft, and judging by your former family, you must have some at least."

"Look," Roman continued, pressing a small object into his hand, "Go in there, summon your Servant using the Saint Quartz as a fuel source. If you really don't have magic circuits, the Quartz will act as the summon's fuel source so your Mana doesn't kill itself, and by extension, you. If you do have circuits, the Quartz will boost your chances of getting a particularly powerful Servant."

Sam nodded, both perplexed and intrigued by the strange object, it was almost diamond-like in appearance, shining in various colors, sparkling like stars in the twilight.

"Just crush it as you attempt the summon, the rest will happen on its own." Roman explained, before turning to leave, but not before clapping Sam on the shoulder again. "Good luck, Sam! Show me your Servant when you're done, I wanna see who you get!"

"Alright!" Samuel called back as Roman's form receded down the hallway, "It's a rain check then!"

"So it is!"

Roman raised a hand in a lopsided wave as Samuel turned, entering the summoning room; the door shut behind him as he stepped beyond the threshold, Saint Quartz in hand, into the summoning circle in the center of the room.

Taking a deep breath to allay his apprehension, Samuel Kriegsland glanced at the Saint Quartz in his hand, and with one smooth motion, crushed it in his palm.

The Quartz shattered, light bursting forth in a cornucopia of various colors, said color seeping into his hand, shooting like lightning up his arm and throughout his body as his dormant magical circuits attempted to cope with the strain, as it was, his entire body burned with exhaustion, his hand felt like it was being simultaneously shredded and rebuilt as the Command Seal branded itself onto the back of his left hand. Finally, the colors coalesced, forming a bright shape just across from the new Master. The light slowly ebbed, cooling to a hue just bright enough to illuminate the room.

Slowly, the form of a blonde-haired man, shirtless and covered in various battle scars stepped forth, brandishing twin swords, upon seeing Samuel however, he sheathed both at his hips, a curiously puzzled expression evident on his face.

The man's tone was rough, graveled as he started, "Servant, Berserker, Name's Beowulf, let's go beat up some bad guys Master!"

"S-sure," Samuel grunted, feeling his legs buckle, "Oh shit-" He cursed, slumping against Beowulf as the Servant caught him under the arms, Sam looked up, now seeing concern upon the previously blood lustful face of the Berserker.

"Woah… take it easy, Master, that summoning take a lot out of you?" Beowulf asked, setting him down as Sam fixed him with an annoyed glare.

"My body feels like it's been lit on fire and I've been doused in gasoline." He deadpanned, the Servant only chuckled, sitting next to the Master, "Hehe, don't worry about it, it'll pass in time, I'm sure."

"I hope s-"

Samuel stopped dead as a loud shriek cut off his last word, blood running cold before he slammed through the door, right into the man clothed in green.

"Ah, number 49." The man spoke almost warmly, despite the now blaring alarms and intercom buzzing with automated evacuation commands, "Truly a pleasure, and a shame."

Beowulf lunged, snarling, slamming a punch into the green man as said man landed his own blow on his Master's jaw, sending Samuel into the wall, head cracking against the steel with a loud BANG!

"With that amount of force, your Master will be dead within minutes, Berserker, just like the other candidates. Now, I've business to attend to, I must be going, ta!" The green-dressed man spoke, tipping his hat and disappearing, just as Roman dashed down the hallway.

"Damnit!" The man cursed as Beowulf heaved his Master onto his shoulders, following Roman's dead sprint to the infirmary, where several others had holed up, namely Roman, a candidate named Ires, his Servant Billy the Kid, and a few nurses. Seeing his new friend's condition, Roman set to work, and after an agonizing 2 hours, the procedure was complete, although Samuel was out cold.

"He'll live, if barely." Roman gasped, grabbing a small device, a bag of Saint Quartz, and a note, before thrusting them into Samuel's old denim jacket, before bringing the man over to Beowulf.

"Get him out of Chaldea, go somewhere safe. Far enough away that there won't be any tracking you. Got it? Tell him to read that note when he wakes up too."

Beowulf nodded and slipped out of the room, following a guide on the map given to him by Roman, that led him to a small boat, depositing his Master in, the Berserker read the note left by Roman,

"Pull cord, steer using handle, handle acts as the rudder"

He smirked wryly, glancing down at his Master as Samuel shot up as if struck by lightning, the boat, and by extension, the pair of Servant and Master, were engulfed in a flash of turquoise and, in just a moment, the two were gone.


FUYUKI


Samuel flat out screamed for his life, a shrill, although low pitched sound tearing itself from his vocal cords in absolute, sheer, panic as he fell from the sky.

"Oh FUCK! BEOWULF!" He shouted, just before he felt the man air-tackle him as he skidded, hitting the ground. The Berserker quickly dusted his Master off, setting him down and drawing his blades, looking around, the man sniffed the air, slowly glancing around. Satisfied with no immediate threats to his Master's life, the man's visage dissipated into the air, only notable by what Samuel could describe as the distinct presence a Servant had.

"We should find you shelter, Master. And take this." The specter of the Berserker held out a sword, which Samuel gingerly took.

"It is only a copy, Master, but should I well… die, so to speak, you can use that to resummon me. It is called a Catalyst. Should you recruit more Servants, be sure to request Catalysts from them."

"Will do," Samuel replied, "Let's get going, Beo."

"Beo? Master, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm alright, it's just a nickname is all, like my name is Samuel, but you're okay to call me Sam. It's just easier that way."

"Alright, then Master. Please excuse any discomfort, carrying you is faster."

Samuel's "What?" turned into a bitten down scream of terror as the Berserker hoisted him over one broad shoulder before dashing off at top speed toward the ruins of Fuyuki City, tearing across the wasteland like a bat out of hell.


Somewhere else, an Archer stared, hawk-like at the newcomers' arrivals, This city was supposed to be dead and gone, else Alaya wouldn't have sent him here to guard this place.

So what the hell were a Master and Servant doing here? There wasn't a Grail War occurring here to Archer's knowledge. But he moved forward anyway. He had to deal with these two. And fast.

It was time for the Counter Guardian to do his job.