Disclaimer: This chapter was written by my friend Kat-2V. He'll have some words to say at the end.

Shirou flew away from Saber, his heart hammering in his chest. "We were just-who are you?"

The red haired woman standing in the doorway wasn't Taiga. She was foreign, dressed in a western suit, and was wrinkling her nose as if she'd just smelled something disgusting. "Ach."

Saber's armor shimmered into existence around her as she stepped in front of him, her features flushed from their heavy make-out session. "Behind me, Master!"

"No," He quickly stepped in front of her in turn. "I'm not letting you fight alone!"

"Shirou-"

The foreigner sighed, speaking with a horribly thick accent. "Bloody fuck. I've found the point of divergence, it's a nasty one."

Shirou blinked then shook it off, bringing his hands up. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house!?"

"Watching a classy English bitch molest a minor." The woman drawled. "You should be bloody ashamed of yourself."

Shirou gaped while Saber flushed even more, her voice defensive. "That was not what-"

A hand pulled out a phone from her pocket, flipping it open as she ignored them both. "Hey. Yeah, found it. The Faker was trying to get it on with the Briton bint. Right? Bloody digusting. Really? That far? Fine."

Excalibur flared to life in Saber's hands, wind tearing at their clothing as Saber brought it to a guard position. "Name yourself!"

It was Shirou's turn to flush, summoning up one of Archer's swords and again stepping just in front of his servant. He was the one who should be fighting dammit! "Who are you?"

To his shock the woman looked... excited. Her phone vanished into a pocket, her other hand stretching out as a familiar red spear shimmered into existence. He gaped at it in surprise but the woman spoke before he could.

"Oy! Where's my music!?"

A man's voice called back from just outside. "You dare demand entertainment from me!?"

"You stole all of my bloody pipes!"

"A King cannot steal what is already his!"

Saber shot past him in a blur, sparks flying as spear and blade collided. The woman continued shouting as if she hadn't just narrowly prevented herself from being beheaded. "Play them while I beat this pedophile's arse or it'll be yours next blondie!"

Any reply was cut off as Saber launched a flurry of attacks, none of which got past. Horribly embarrassed at his servant again taking the lead when it was his duty to fight, he raced forwards, ducked past a swing of Excalibur, and brought his weapon down at the woman's arm.

The world went sideways.

Shirou groaned in pain as he sat up, blinking, staring at the several shattered walls he'd just flown through.

"She dares give me orders." Blinking, he managed to turn enough to see a man in a suit just like the woman's standing beside him. One hand rose in a dismissive flick, a thousand golden lights shimmering to life above them in reply. "Tell me, Faker Twelve Hundred and Six, should I be indulgently amused or infuriated beyond reason?"

"...what?"

The man scoffed. "Useless as always. It will be a pleasure to erase this realtiy."

"WHAT?"

Light shimmered as a low hum began to build, his shouts going ignored as objects began to emerge from the golden circles. Shirou stared as ghostly forms carried out... a thousand bagpipes. All of them stamped their feet in unison as the noise grew into a hellish roar.

The sound that followed wasn't music. It shook the ground beneath his feat, made his bones crack, made him clutch at his head and let out a soundless scream.

Somehow he could hear the man laughing beside him, could see him sipping from a goblet as he smiled. "That is what you get for not following the proper flow of history, Faker."

Covering his ears for all the good it did, he managed to stagger to his feet after several false starts. He'd just gotten upright when another person came exploding out of his home, Saber's body striking the ground several times before rolling to a stop.

The unholy torture abruptly cut out, a dismissive wave banishing the demonic musicians.

"Done already, Pendragon?" The man sneered. "Pathetic, but what could I expect from a variant who is so deviant as to lust after a boy less than half her age?"

Saber rose, but he felt himself gape as her weapon shook. "It is not like that! I am not yours!"

He ignored her, "Done already, deathless one?"

"Aye. She's in a pathetic state." The woman looked dissapointed as she stepped outside. "What's wrong Pendragon? Finally got someone between your legs and forgot you're a fuckin' knight?"

Shirou sprinted forewards, sword held high. "Our bond is pure! We're destined! You-"

When he came to, he was on the ground, Saber cradling him as she pressed a hand to his stomach. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? He was the hero of justice! He had Saber, the perfect woman, the perfect servant!

"...finish this. This crap is turning my stomach."

"For once we agree." The man drawled. "Ea!"

He looked away from the mess of his belly as yet another golden light brought forth a rod.

"And yet another Faker dies."

Crimson light was the last thing he saw.

Kat-2V: "Because Pallan tortured me so much with Shirou/Saber trash that I took a break from writing actual novels to bang out this litany of hatred. I'd have gone farther but I finished my drink, and had enough self-control to stop after one glass of pirate-proof rum."

Thanks for reading.